[siyalogue]

enhypen vs your questionable manifestations smau!

• SYNOPSIS: A collection of texts where you send your boyfriend your increasingly absurd manifestations and he questions your sanity but alas! He also loves you too much.

• FEATURING: Heeseung, Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon.

• A/N: this one's short.

[mwaeom]

FUCK THE MAYOR.ᐟ sim jaeyun

PART ONE ─── you run a hate account against mayor!jake, but in real life? you’re his one and only favorite journalist that he has a big fat crush on. he’ll also do anything to get you to interview him again and again (๑°o°๑)

pairing downbad/mayor!jake x manhater/journalist!fem reader: you’re jake’s #1 hater, while jake is your no 1 fan 𔘓 genre romcom crack smau, let’s not idolize politicians, same universe as my hoon smau ✶ warnings profanity, use of y/n, very chaotic lol𓂃˖ ࣪⊹

( ℰ🪽 ) —— after husband!hoon, we have mayor!jake (as i teased in my hoon smau) <3 i had to delete some tweets bcuz the limit is till 30 only arghh T__T users hotgirlssupremacy & angelkisses r reader's acc!

════════════════════════════════════

( ℰ🪽 ) —— no divider again bcuz of the pic limit LMFAOO i didnt realize i went over 30 :'(( so for part 2, i'll add those parts that didnt make the cut ! ALSO after i post this, im making the hoon smau part 3 !

perm taglist / my loves ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～ ♡ @kienhawon @evangelicai @hyuneskkami @mailovesreading @vikeuchu @coergene @ilofflee @bhunlit

© mwaeom. all rights reserved. please do not repost, claim as your own, or copy. thanksies ᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ -

[heevnly]

✧ Thirty Days, One Signature

✧ Pairing: Lee Heeseung x Fem!Reader (Y/N)

✧ Genre: Fake Marriage AU, Reality Show AU, Accidental Marriage, Friends to Lovers, Comedy, Fluff, Slow Burn, Idol AU

✧ Word Count: 8.5k!

✧ Synopsis: Due to a reality show mishap and one very unfortunate contract, you and Heeseung are legally married for thirty days. The annulment should be easy. The feelings are not.

The wedding certificate surfaced at 2:13 a.m.

Not in a courtroom.

Not in a government office.

But on a giant LED screen in the middle of a live broadcast while six cameramen screamed over each other and a producer fainted somewhere behind the set.

Y/N stared at the document projected above the stage, her mouth hanging open.

Beside her, Lee Heeseung looked equally horrified.

“Wait,” Sunghoon said slowly from the sidelines, holding a cue card upside down. “Are you guys… actually married?”

The studio fell into complete silence.

Then Jake burst into laughter so hard he slid off his chair.

───

It had started as a stupid reality show segment.

The producers of Idol House: Chaos Edition thought it would be funny to create fake “marriage missions” where celebrities signed novelty contracts and completed ridiculous couple challenges for points. Cooking together. Matching outfits. Pretending to argue over laundry.

Nothing legally binding.

At least that was the plan.

Unfortunately for everyone involved, one intern accidentally mixed the fake marriage forms with authentic district office paperwork borrowed for “realism.” Nobody noticed because the filming location happened to be an actual event hall licensed for civil ceremonies.

And because the universe apparently enjoyed suffering, both Y/N and Heeseung had signed everything without reading it.

On camera.

With witnesses.

And a legally certified officiant standing three feet away.

The network’s legal team discovered the mistake three weeks after filming wrapped.

By then the marriage had already been registered.

Officially.

Legally.

Catastrophically.

───

“We can annul it, right?” Y/N asked for the fifteenth time.

Three lawyers sat across from her in tense silence.

One finally adjusted his glasses.

“In theory? Yes.”

“In theory?” she repeated weakly.

The lawyer smiled the way people smiled before delivering terrible news.

“The contract has a technical validity period due to the nature of the filing. Until the court reviews the dispute, you are legally recognized as married for thirty days.”

Y/N blinked.

“Thirty—”

“Thirty days,” he confirmed.

Beside her, Heeseung leaned back against the couch and covered his face with both hands.

Jay, who had insisted on attending “for emotional support and possible entertainment,” whispered, “This is the greatest day of my life.”

Y/N threw a cushion at him.

───

The news exploded online within hours.

#HEESEUNGMARRIED trended worldwide.

Then #FREEREADER.

Then, somehow, #DIVORCEPARTY.

Fans thought it was a marketing stunt at first. Then the official statement dropped.

«Due to a procedural issue involving production documentation, artist Lee Heeseung and civilian participant Y/N are currently involved in legal clarification regarding an invalid marital registration.»

That somehow made things worse.

Now reporters camped outside HYBE.

Memes flooded every social media platform.

Someone edited wedding photos of Y/N and Heeseung despite there being no actual wedding photos.

Ni-ki printed one out and framed it.

───

“You don’t have to move in,” Heeseung said carefully two days later.

Y/N stared at him across the company conference room.

The legal advisor cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Actually…”

Both of them turned.

“Due to public scrutiny and concerns over media interference, it may strengthen your annulment case if you demonstrate cooperative domestic behavior instead of apparent fraud avoidance.”

Silence.

Jay burst into laughter again.

Sunoo looked delighted.

Jungwon looked exhausted already.

“You’re saying,” Y/N said slowly, “that we have to live together.”

“For thirty days,” the advisor confirmed.

Heeseung dropped his head onto the table.

───

Moving into Enhypen’s dorm was not part of Y/N’s life plan.

Especially not as someone’s accidental wife.

The members reacted exactly as badly as expected.

Jake greeted her at the door with, “Welcome home, sister-in-law.”

Sunghoon almost choked on water trying not to laugh.

Sunoo immediately dragged her into the kitchen to discuss skincare routines like they’d known each other for years.

Jungwon apologized every ten minutes for the chaos.

Ni-ki asked if he could call her “Mrs. Heeseung” just to annoy him.

“No,” Heeseung said instantly.

“Yes,” Ni-ki answered at the same time.

───

The first week was unbearable.

Not because Heeseung was rude.

That would have been easier.

Instead, he was painfully considerate.

He moved his gaming equipment out of the spare room so she could have privacy. He labeled shelves in the fridge because she mentioned liking organization. He left snacks outside her door after long days because he noticed she skipped meals when stressed.

And somehow that was worse.

Because Y/N had prepared herself to dislike him.

She hadn’t prepared for kindness.

One night she wandered into the kitchen at 1 a.m. unable to sleep and found him sitting on the counter eating cereal straight from the box.

He looked up in surprise.

“You too?”

“Nightmare,” she muttered.

“Same.”

For a moment neither spoke.

Rain tapped softly against the windows.

The dorm lights were dim except for the stove lamp glowing gold across the kitchen.

“You know,” Heeseung said eventually, “if this bothers you too much… I can stay somewhere else.”

Y/N frowned.

“It’s your dorm.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t ask for any of this.”

Neither did he.

That realization hit unexpectedly hard.

For weeks she’d been so consumed by her own humiliation she forgot he was trapped too.

Heeseung rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

“My mom keeps asking if she should send wedding gifts.”

Y/N snorted before she could stop herself.

He stared.

Then laughed too.

It was the first genuine moment between them.

And somehow the beginning of everything.

───

The media only got more aggressive.

Dispatch followed them constantly.

Every accidental interaction became a headline.

HEESEUNG CARRIES WIFE’S SHOPPING BAGS

(He carried one bag.)

MARRIED COUPLE SPOTTED ON SECRET DATE

(It was a pharmacy.)

Fans analyzed every frame of every livestream.

One clip of Heeseung unconsciously fixing Y/N’s hood before she walked outside reached three million views in a day.

“Why are people zooming into my fingers?” he asked in horror.

“Because apparently your pinky touching my sleeve is romantic.”

Jake nearly fell off the couch laughing.

───

Somewhere around day twelve, things changed.

Not dramatically.

Not all at once.

Just quietly.

Like realizing the dorm felt calmer when Heeseung was around.

Like noticing he always saved the last strawberry from dessert because she liked them.

Like how he looked for her first in crowded rooms without realizing it.

One evening the members were filming content in the living room while Y/N worked nearby.

Sunoo suddenly asked, “Who confessed first?”

Y/N nearly inhaled her drink.

“We’re not dating,” she coughed.

“But if you were?” Sunoo pressed.

Heeseung glanced up from his phone.

The eye contact lasted barely a second.

Too long anyway.

Ni-ki gasped dramatically.

“Oh my god.”

“Stop being weird,” Heeseung muttered.

But his ears had turned red.

───

The storm hit on day nineteen.

A tabloid released articles claiming the marriage was fabricated for publicity.

The backlash was immediate and vicious.

People called Y/N manipulative.

Attention-seeking.

A liar.

She stopped checking her phone after the first thousand comments.

That night she sat alone on the dorm rooftop wrapped in a hoodie, trying very hard not to cry.

The door creaked open behind her.

Heeseung walked over quietly holding two cans of soda.

“I figured you’d be here.”

She accepted the drink without looking at him.

“They hate me.”

“No,” he said firmly. “They hate rumors.”

“It’s different.”

“It’s not.”

Y/N laughed bitterly.

“You’re used to this.”

Heeseung was silent for a moment.

Then softer:

“You think it doesn’t still hurt?”

That made her look at him.

For the first time she saw the exhaustion beneath his calm expression. The pressure. The endless scrutiny. The way idols learned to carry pain elegantly because cameras never stopped rolling.

He sat beside her on the concrete ledge.

“When I debuted,” he said quietly, “I thought if I worked hard enough people would only see good things about me.”

“And?”

“And eventually you realize people see whatever they want.”

The city lights reflected in his eyes.

“But the people who matter,” he continued, “they stay.”

Y/N swallowed hard.

“Why are you being nice to me?”

He looked genuinely confused.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

The answer should’ve been simple.

Instead her chest tightened painfully.

───

On day twenty-four, they accidentally went viral again.

This time because Y/N fell asleep during a movie night and unconsciously leaned against Heeseung’s shoulder.

The members noticed immediately.

Jay silently filmed everyone’s reactions while Jake covered his mouth trying not to scream.

Sunghoon whispered, “No way.”

Heeseung, meanwhile, froze entirely.

Y/N slept peacefully against him completely unaware that the room had entered collective cardiac arrest.

Then very carefully—

almost nervously—

he adjusted the blanket around her shoulders.

The clip spread online within hours.

Fans collectively lost their minds.

───

“You know what’s terrifying?” Jungwon said later.

“What?”

“You two act married even when you forget the cameras exist.”

Neither Y/N nor Heeseung had an answer for that.

Because it was true.

Somehow they’d fallen into habits naturally.

Waiting for each other before meals.

Sharing inside jokes.

Texting each other first about stupid things during the day.

It stopped feeling temporary.

And that scared both of them more than the legal paperwork ever had.

───

Day twenty-nine arrived too quickly.

The annulment hearing was scheduled for the next morning.

One signature and everything would disappear.

The marriage.

The scandal.

The last month.

Y/N stood in the kitchen unable to sleep again.

A familiar voice appeared behind her.

“Can’t rest?”

She shook her head.

Heeseung leaned against the doorway quietly.

Neither mentioned what tomorrow meant.

Finally he spoke.

“You know… when this started, I thought thirty days would feel impossible.”

Y/N smiled faintly.

“Same.”

“And now?”

The question lingered heavily between them.

Dangerously.

Y/N looked down at her hands.

“I don’t know.”

Heeseung stepped closer.

Close enough that her heartbeat turned traitorous.

“I do,” he said softly.

Her breath caught.

For once Lee Heeseung looked nervous.

Actually nervous.

Not idol-nervous. Not camera-nervous.

Real nervous.

“I think,” he said carefully, “somewhere between the legal disaster and Sunghoon almost setting the kitchen on fire…”

A laugh escaped her unexpectedly.

His smile appeared too.

“I fell in love with you.”

The world stopped.

No cameras.

No headlines.

No contracts.

Just him.

Waiting.

Terrified.

Honest.

Y/N stared at him for a long moment before whispering:

“This is probably the worst confession timing in history.”

Heeseung groaned dramatically.

“Please don’t reject me legally and emotionally at the same time.”

She laughed so hard tears filled her eyes.

And before she could overthink it—

before fear could interfere—

she reached for him first.

His hands found her waist instantly like instinct.

The kiss felt warm and dizzying and long overdue.

When they finally pulled apart, both breathless, Heeseung rested his forehead against hers.

“So…” he murmured.

“So?”

“Should we still annul the marriage?”

Y/N pretended to think.

“Hm. Maybe we should stop accidentally getting married first.”

He laughed softly against her lips.

Somewhere down the hallway, a door slammed open.

“I KNEW IT—” Jake screamed.

Followed immediately by six other voices losing their minds.

Heeseung closed his eyes.

“We’re never going to know peace again.”

Y/N grinned.

“Probably not, husband.”

And honestly?

Neither of them minded anymore.

—

The problem with confessing your feelings in a dorm full of curious idols was that absolutely nobody respected privacy.

Not a single person.

The second Jake screamed, every door in the hallway flew open.

Sunoo appeared first.

Then Jungwon.

Then Ni-ki.

Then Jay.

Then Sunghoon, who somehow arrived carrying a bag of chips despite having been asleep less than ten seconds earlier.

Y/N and Heeseung jumped apart so fast they nearly tripped over themselves.

Unfortunately, the damage was already done.

The members stared.

Heeseung stared back.

Y/N contemplated climbing out the nearest window.

"No way," Ni-ki whispered dramatically.

"No actual way."

Jake pointed at them like he'd just discovered a new species.

"THEY KISSED."

"We know they kissed," Jay replied.

"How do you know?"

"I have eyes."

Sunoo immediately burst into tears.

Nobody knew why.

Not even Sunoo.

───

The next morning was somehow worse.

Because now they had to attend the annulment hearing.

Together.

After confessing.

After kissing.

After spending half the night being interrogated by six overexcited witnesses.

The drive to the courthouse was painfully quiet.

Y/N sat beside Heeseung in the back seat.

Their hands occasionally brushed.

Neither moved away.

Neither knew what to say.

Finally Heeseung sighed.

"This is weird."

"This is weird."

They spoke simultaneously.

Both laughed.

The tension eased slightly.

"Are you scared?" he asked.

Y/N looked out the window.

The city blurred past.

"A little."

"Me too."

The honesty made her smile.

Because for all the confidence he showed on stage, Heeseung wasn't fearless.

He worried.

Overthought.

Second-guessed.

Just like everyone else.

Maybe that's why being around him felt so easy.

───

The hearing itself lasted less than thirty minutes.

Thirty minutes.

After thirty days of chaos.

Thirty days of headlines.

Thirty days of accidental marriage.

The judge reviewed the documents carefully.

Listened to the network's legal explanation.

Questioned both parties.

Then adjusted his glasses

.

"To summarize," he said.

Everyone nodded.

"You two accidentally entered a legally recognized marriage due to production negligence."

"Correct."

"You did not intend to become married."

"Correct."

The judge looked down at the paperwork.

Then back up.

His expression changed.

Very slightly.

Almost amused.

"And yet according to witness testimony..."

The judge glanced toward the stack of statements.

"...you have been functioning as a married couple for nearly a month."

Y/N wanted the floor to swallow her.

Immediately.

Forever.

Beside her, Heeseung looked equally horrified.

The witness statements had come from the members.

Which was already a terrible sign.

───

The judge cleared his throat.

"One witness claims you cook together."

Sunghoon.

Traitor.

"Another says you wait for each other before eating."

Jake.

Obviously.

"One statement contains six pages regarding emotional compatibility."

Sunoo.

Definitely Sunoo.

Y/N covered her face.

The judge continued.

"Someone also submitted a chart."

"..."

"..."

"A chart."

"That was Jay," Heeseung said instantly.

───

The judge finally set the documents aside.

The room became quiet.

Professional.

Serious again.

"The marriage can absolutely be annulled."

Y/N's stomach dropped unexpectedly.

Because this was what she'd wanted.

Wasn't it?

The whole time.

The annulment.

The freedom.

The end of the mess.

So why did it suddenly feel wrong?

She glanced sideways.

Heeseung was already looking at her.

The same realization seemed to hit both of them simultaneously.

Because neither looked relieved.

At all.

───

The judge noticed.

Unfortunately.

His eyes narrowed.

Then he asked the most dangerous question imaginable.

"Do either of you still wish to proceed?"

Silence.

Absolute silence.

The lawyers froze.

The network representatives froze.

Even the court clerk looked interested now.

Y/N's heartbeat pounded loudly in her ears.

Beside her, Heeseung took a breath.

Then another.

Then stood.

Every head turned toward him.

Including hers.

And before anyone could stop him—

before legal teams could panic—

before common sense could intervene—

Lee Heeseung spoke.

"I don't."

The room erupted.

───

Three hours later, every major entertainment outlet in South Korea had posted updates.

The headlines were catastrophic

HEESEUNG REFUSES ANNULMENT

REAL FEELINGS CONFIRMED

ACCIDENTAL MARRIAGE BECOMES INTENTIONAL

The internet exploded.

Again.

Y/N wasn't even surprised anymore.

She'd become immune.

At this point a meteor could strike the building and she'd simply ask if Dispatch had photographs.

───

"What have we done?" she asked.

They sat on a bench outside the courthouse.

Reporters crowded the street beyond security barriers.

Fans gathered nearby.

The world felt louder than ever.

Heeseung sat beside her.

Close enough that their shoulders touched.

"I think," he said carefully, "I may have ruined our lives."

Y/N laughed.

A genuine laugh.

The first relaxed one she'd had all day.

"Only may have?"

"Okay."

He sighed dramatically.

"I definitely ruined our lives."

"Good."

He blinked.

"Good?"

"If we're ruining our lives, we might as well do it together."

For a second he simply stared.

Then the smile appeared.

That smile.

The one fans loved.

The one that reached his eyes.

The one she secretly liked most.

His fingers found hers.

Intertwining naturally.

Comfortably.

Like they belonged there.

───

The company nearly had a collective breakdown.

Meetings happened.

Then more meetings.

Then emergency meetings about the previous meetings.

Executives panicked.

Managers panicked.

Legal departments panicked.

The members found everything hilarious.

"You rejected freedom for love," Jay said.

"In this economy."

Heeseung threw a pillow at him.

──

A week later the story had spread internationally.

Surprisingly, public reaction softened.

People stopped focusing on the mistake.

Stopped focusing on the scandal.

Instead they focused on something else.

The fact that two people who were never supposed to meet this way had somehow found each other anyway.

The absurdity became almost romantic.

Almost.

There were still memes.

Thousands of memes.

───

Three months later, Y/N stood backstage at one of Enhypen's concerts.

The arena roared with energy.

Lightsticks illuminated the darkness like stars.

Heeseung was preparing for the final stage when he spotted her waiting near the side entrance.

His face immediately brightened.

The reaction happened so naturally he didn't even realize it.

But everyone else did.

Jake nearly collapsed laughing.

Sunghoon rolled his eyes.

Jungwon sighed like a tired parent.

"He does that every time."

"Every time," Jay agreed.

───

After the concert ended, Heeseung found her immediately.

Sweaty.

Exhausted.

Glowing from adrenaline.

"How was it?"

"Amazing."

His grin widened.

"Really?"

"Really."

The crowd was still chanting outside.

The members were running around nearby.

Staff hurried through the corridors.

Yet somehow the moment felt strangely private.

Just theirs.

Heeseung gently brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

A simple gesture.

One he'd done countless times now.

Still capable of making her heart race.

"Hey," he said softly.

"Hm?"

"You know."

"What?"

His smile turned teasing.

"We technically never had a real wedding."

Y/N narrowed her eyes.

"Oh no."

"Oh yes."

The excitement on his face was immediate.

Dangerous.

"I've been thinking."

"That's concerning."

"We should have one."

She groaned instantly.

He laughed.

Then pulled her closer.

"Not a giant one."

"Good."

"Not a televised one."

"Excellent."

"Maybe just family."

Y/N paused.

Because somehow that sounded perfect.

Simple.

Warm.

Real.

Everything their accidental beginning hadn't been.

She smiled.

"I'll think about it."

"You love me."

"I do."

His entire face softened.

Every ounce of teasing disappearing.

Like hearing those words still surprised him.

Still mattered.

Maybe it always would.

"I love you too," he whispered.

And for once there were no cameras.

No contracts.

No legal mistakes.

No headlines.

Just two people whose story had started with an accident—

And continued because they chose each other.

Every single day after.

[siyalogue]

lyric pranking boyfriend enha into utter confusion

↪sending song lyrics to enha and confusing the hell out of them.

↪songs mentioned: if the world was ending (jp saxe), I don't need your love (nct dream), don't say you love me (fifth harmony), bad liar (selena gomez).

[mwaeom]

I’M NOT A PARK ANYMORE, I TOOK MY WIFE’S NAME … ❤︎ park sunghoon

PART 1, PART 2─── bored of your life, you go on tinder and match with a hot guy named park sunghoon, who in his bio, states that he’s “date to marry.” but he offers you a deal: fake a marriage with him to annoy his obnoxious family and he’ll pay you for it.

or you’re in a fake marriage with sunghoon and he takes your last name to piss his relatives off. oh and did i tell you that he’s lowkey obsessed with you? even though he’s just your “fake husband.”

contains husband!sunghoon x wife!reader. smau, romcom, strangers to fake lovers to real lovers. fake marriage au. obsessed!sunghoon. sunghoon is a multi billionaire. use of y/n l/n for the reader's name (+ nicknames like baby, my love, angel, pretty..) opposite of slow burn. feat mayor!jake, grocery store owner!jay (hoon's opps) :D

( 🪽 ) —— this is more chaotic than part 1 lol. hoon is EXTREMELY downbad for reader (and she's in denial), we meet hoon’s mom, & we see their relationship progressing >< despite it being a fast-burn, they’re just fake dating/fake flirting (but actually like eo) #fakedatingbesttrope #sorryforanytypos. anw hope y'all like this one likes, comments, & reblogs r greatly appreciated <3

---------------------------------------------------------

( 🪽 ) —— reached my pic limit so i didnt get to add the divider LMAOOO. but here u guys go! ALSO THX FOR READING! im thankful for everyone who liked the first part! tell me if u guys want angst or js romcom for part 3 hehe >< (i also thought of making sunghoon jealous or smth but ill think abt it) ty to my taglist i love y'all <3 taglist 1: @cokewithcameron @pumrikku @sunnysidesins @hongtyong @taesansnovia @fein4hoon @samvagejkflxhrt @yurilover249 @honeymoonave777 @ohmymelon @run2min @nyfwyeonjun @foreveronez @dina-10s-blog @enhapagluuuuu @iiunique @12e45 @all4moi @sleepymochiiii @mijjinthefridge @vanheee @idkhahaha1234 @mysticalmf @hyunjinslongasslegs @ryukumi @gracesalvatore @somuchdard @megamatt43 @jakeycakeys @enhapocketz @autumnsgr3ysolace @satorus-slut @tamedhoon @sharknadoooo0 @nonchalantkumi @xoalzox @marianaconta123 @itsgigi444 @sarinhaluvskats @yangflavor1009 @heehee67 @sunnotes @gae-ping-boosay @bmbivan @mailovesreading @510-5 @gayterry1000 @nonachoss @isa942572 @mynameistakenfml

[mwaeom]

ty to my taglist i love y'all fr

taglist 2: @nanamioi @hsngx @scoupsonlycherry @lilbieberr @jay-j4y @wvndrls @ikeurelic @fleumurr @luvv1anime @bamgyooooo @sjynlvr @luv4dani @engene12z @aerrdeicall @loveydoveyez @riknywngi @niksri @aengelicalangel @miemiem9 @whothefvckami @lunaryoongie @xowonat @filthxyy @xeiramz @seonghwassss @jenevader @enhypenlovre @firstclassjaylee @yashiehehehe @nanilis @yangw0ni3 @meowza1 @yenienha @vikeuchu @sundus-stuff @jellyilgi @akl3223 @jayhoonsgf @hannahlovesenhypen @wonniiz @won1yoiz @sunnyjayjays @leeymws @ddcyvn @nylahatesithere @me0ooww @kukkurookkoo @norahsturns @chaes-cake @pochaccoyj @pawsytif @mrs-r1zzimura @lingxio @lilllslayswanderwoodsan

[unknowacczzz]

Looking for enhypen fics/au, check out these accounts!!

@eeunoia (fave author!!)

@slutofpsh (eeunoia but 18+)

@nishimmortal (text smau)

@crimswon (text smau)

@goon4hoon

@in-enha-world

@liuhsng

@mssishipi

@simjakedly

@hoonguin

@hee-cloud

[chocoblogs]

💘 SUNGHOON SMAU: roommate!sunghoon simp!femreader

A chaotic 20 year old develops a hopeless crush on her brother Sunoo’s quiet roommate, Park Sunghoon. While Sunghoon acts distant at first and only sees her as Sunoo’s little sister, he slowly finds himself drawn to her, leading to secret late night hangouts and a relationship hidden behind Sunoo’s back.

warnings: crack/humor, cringe fail female lead, profanity, mutual pining (eventually), light stalking, secret relationship, profanity, age gap

song rec: gun show - lil hero

part 1 part 2

a/n: new smau since i’m finishing the jake one soon ! hope yall like it 🫪 btw i know a lot of people wanted the jay smau but ugh 😑 ill see what i can do

taglist: (perm) @norahsturns @wonkiipiilled @dina-10s-blog @lunaryoongie @amivine @jayrassicpaaark

[youngheejay]

ℬ𝒶𝒷𝓎𝑔𝒾𝓇𝓁… 𝐼 𝑔ℴ𝓉𝓉𝒶 𝑔ℴ 𝓉ℴ 𝓈𝓁ℯℯ𝓅

Heeseung as a tired boyfriend is upsetting you more than you realise.

Heeseung x gf!reader — angstish with a lot of comfort because we need it

I got inspired from that one Spotify interview where they played desire or deny and when they were asked about ‘a stroll under the full moon’ Heeseung answered with deny, saying “girls… I gotta go to sleep.” He was so cheeky and cute 😆

⋆.˚✮☽☯︎☾✮˚.⋆ ⋆.˚✮☽☯︎☾✮˚.⋆ ⋆.˚✮☽☯︎☾✮˚.⋆ ⋆.˚✮☽☯︎☾✮˚.⋆ ⋆.˚✮☽☯︎☾✮˚.⋆

“Hee?” you whispered.

Silence.

Only his soft snores alongside the noise from the movie you had been watching together filled the room.

You slightly lifted your head from his chest, careful not to startle him. His hand which was previously buried in your hair and massaged your head had slipped off. “Baby?” You called out for him softly.

His snores continued, chest rising and falling in a rhythmic pattern under your hand. Leaning forward, you placed a soft kiss on his jaw. No response. You tried again by kissing the corner of his jaw, right next to his ear where you knew he was sensitive. He grunted and buried his face in his hoodie, still completely knocked out. You bit your lip to suppress a chuckle, kissing along his neck and jaw. “Baby~” you kissed his cheek, “wake up, my love. You can’t sleep here, baby.” Now you were trailing your kisses to his chin and nose, purposefully missing out on his soft, kissable lips.

His eyes fluttered, he looked at you with a dazed vision. “Hm?” Heavy eyes met yours.

"Baby, you can't sleep here, my love." You rubbed your nose against his. He didn't respond right away. His hand buried in your hair again and pulled you closer to him. You gasped softly, the strenght in your arms giving out. You fell right on his body, now completely sprawled over him. His cheek rubbed on your forehead as he pressed your face into the crook of his neck which was covered by his hoodie.

"You woke me up." He complained with a rough voice, softness seeping through when he wrapped his other arm tighter around your waist.

"I'm sorry, bambi." You kissed his hamster like cheek, the nickname you gave him melted his heart everytime. "I wish I could carry you to bed, but you're too heavy for me." Heeseung chuckled under his breath, eyelids fighting against sleep. "That would be weird...", he murmured, exhaustion never vanishing from his voice.

"I don't like to be woken up," he started lazily, "but if it's you waking me up with kisses like this..." he pulled you further into his embrace, "then it’s okey."

You looked up, cheeks flushed due to warmth of candles and the fireplace breathing through your apartment. His heart fluttered at the sight. Softness bloomed through his veins, his eyes, though still heavy with drowsiness, now shimmered with fondness and affection.

You kissed his chin, "I'm glad you're giving your girlfriend this privilige," you giggled. His eyes softened even more. "Always,” he whispered more to himself than to you.

"Let's go to-" you yelped when Heeseung pulled you back to him as you were about to lift yourself up from his body.

"Hee-" You were cut off by a kiss on your lips. You sighed softly, his hand tilting your head so he could aim your soft lips accurately. Your body melted into his all over again.

“You forgot to kiss me here.” He mumbled against your lips, eyes twinkling mischievously.

The warm glow across your cheeks deepened. “You’re so annoying,” you whispered back, ears getting hot and lips brushing his. “Let’s get ready for bed, silly.”

In bed, your head rested on Heeseung’s chest, now clothed in pyjamas and not his hoodie and sweatpants anymore. The comfortable and warm weight of your body on his soothed him steadily to sleep.

And when it suddenly disappeared, he groggily stirred awake. “Where you goin’?” His hand lazily reached out for you though you already had slipped away from his reach.

“I’m just getting a glass of water, baby,” you whispered, leaning down to press a kiss on the arch of his eyebrow. “Go back to sleep.”

He responded with a gibberish “hurry up” before his consciousness slowly slipped away. Even though he looked dead to the world, his subconscious was still alert to every sound from you. The footsteps tapping down the stairs, the light switch clicking, the cabinet door closing.

But then there was absolute silence.

A frown appeared on Heeseung’s face. He was still way too gone to actually wake up, but his instincts couldn’t ignore your ongoing absence. Unconsciously, he purred into his pillow in distress, his face burying in it as his arm stretched towards your side of the bed.

Suddenly, hurried footsteps echoed through the house. You ripped the door open, but your boyfriend was now fast asleep.

“Oh my god! Heeseung! Wake up! You gotta see this!” You began as you crawled on the bed towards him. You shook him gently by his shoulders.

He grunted, face burying even further into his pillow.

“Baby, baby! Wake up!”

“Hm.”

“Baby, please~” You tried to lift him up, of course it was an unnecessary attempt — he didn’t budge one bit.

“Heeseung! You’re not gonna believe it! It’s snowing outside!”

“Hm?”

“It’s snowing!”

“M-hm.” He grunted in fake acknowledgment.

“Baby, please, you need to see it! It looks so beautiful!” You laid on top of him as you nestled your head next to his. “Please, please, please.”

“Mhmmm…” he grunted again, almost inaudible this time.

“Please~!” Your hands cupped his face. “Baby, please, wake up.” You pouted. Genuine hurt cracked through your voice. How could you enjoy the first snowfall of the year without your boyfriend? “You have to watch it with me…”

A quiet, frustrated whimper elicited from your throat. Defeated, you rested your head on his chest.

He was way too exhausted. He worked so much and so hard. There was no chance he would wake up after the back to back concerts he just had. For some reason, it brought tears to your eyes.

“Stupid boyfriend…” you pouted quietly, childishly, as you rubbed your face into his chest like a cat.

And somehow, his eyes fluttered open. “Hm?”

You were too lost in your tears, wetting his pyjama shirt and softly sniffling that you didn’t notice him stirring awake.

His hand flew up to your head in worry. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying, pretty?” His voice was deep and rough.

You gasped, head shooting up, “you woke up! Oh my god, Heeseung! You won’t believe this! It’s snowing outside!”

He blinked for a moment. Then a low chuckle escaped him, clearly taken by surprise, “yeah? That’s why you’re crying?” He gently pushed your hair behind your ear. His thumb swiped at the corner of your eye. You shook your head, but the stubborn tears managed to fill your eyes yet again.

“Then why is my big girl crying? Hm?”

“I- I don’t know.” You felt so silly. He’d definitely laugh at you if you told him.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just continued to stroke your cheekbone as he gazed at you with the softest eyes.

“You thought I died or something?”

You gasped a wet laugh. “What? No!” You slapped his chest.

A lazy smile spread across his face. Suddenly, he sat up and leaned against the headboard. He pulled you on his lap and cradled your head against his chest. His naked chest was peeking out of his unbuttoned shirt as he wrapped his arms around you trying to shield you from the cold world. Or anything that was making you cry. He pressed a kiss on your forehead and started rocking you slowly as if you were his baby.

“You said it’s snowing?” He asked after a while. He always talked to you very softly and cautiously, but whenever you were crying and vulnerable he became even more gentle. As if he was afraid you would break if he wasn’t careful enough.

You nodded frequently against his chest, doe and shimmery eyes glancing at him.

“Yeah?” He chuckled under his breath. He couldn’t help but find you so cute, so adorable at this moment. His heart squeezed in adoration. His hand cupped your soft cheek, stroking it gently.

For a while, he just gazed at you softly, taking his time to caress you and soak you in. He pressed a kiss on your forehead. Your eyes fluttered at his soft lips loving you, his kiss lingering on your skin even after he separated.

“You wanna watch the snowfall?” His voice was tender, as if he knew what and what not to say when you’re all vulnerable in his arms.

“Oh, yes!! Please, please, please!!” You nodded eagerly and quickly stood up. You took his hand to drag him towards the door and basically pulled him out of the sheets.

You were determined to share the most beautiful sight with the love of your life.

“Wait-“ he halted, tugging you back, his hair messy in the cutest and sleepiest way, “wait. Where are you going? Baby-“ he was so amused by your antics, “we have a window here, pretty.”

“Oh- No! We have to go downstairs, the view from the living room is a lot better!” You pulled him with you without any hesitation. His big and firmer hand wrapped around your smaller, soft one. His heart swelled up. He didn’t dare to protest, you were just the cutest being so he let you lead him to wherever your heart desired.

You gasped dramatically once you stood in front of the window. “Look at the view, Seungie!” You let go of his warm hand and pushed the curtains away to show him more of the view.

“Isn’t it so beautiful??” You awed with bright, sparkling eyes, hands on the cool glass as you watched the snowflakes dancing in the air.

Heeseung leaned against the big window, arms crossed as he hummed. His sleepy, sluggish demeanour was a huge contrast to your excited, giddy one. He sighed heavily, his head resting on the glass as the coolness seeped into his skin.

You whipped your head at him, “it’s so beautiful, isn’t it??” You tried again after he didn’t give an answer. He nodded lazily, barely managing to keep his eyes open. His eyes shifted to you, lingering on your bare arms and the way your body was trembling almost unnoticeably. But never unnoticed by him.

A disappointed, accusatory frown appeared on your face, “you’re not even looking, baby.”

A yawn escaped from his mouth as he lazily stretched his arms. He then pulled you into his embrace. His head rested comfortably on your shoulder as his arms wrapped around around your waist. Your hands automatically rested on his firm forearms. He pressed a soft kiss on your shoulder before rubbing his face against it, his movements were sluggish and lazy.

“ ‘m lookin” he mumbled against the crook of your neck. He looked up and kissed your cheek, arms tightening around you. One hand rubbed your chilled, naked arm, “ ‘s pretty”. He lingered a kiss on your neck. “So pretty,” he repeated before he rested his chin on your shoulder, his face half buried in your hair and neck.

You giggled excitedly, “I know!! The snow is soooo pretty.”

Heeseung chuckled under his breath and pressed himself further against your back, wrapping you even tighter in his arms.

“Really pretty,” he hummed.

He definitely wasn’t talking about the view. Matter of fact, when he had you in his arms like this, he couldn’t care less about some snow.

You let out an existed gasp, an idea striking you. You turned in his embrace. “Babe! Let’s go outside! The snow is still untouched, oh my god- this will be so fun!”

His eyebrows raised in surprised, “huh?”

“Please, please, please! A snowfall during the night is the best thing to experience!! You gotta trust me on this one!” Suddenly, you unwrapped yourself from his arms. You already made up your mind that you were going out with your boyfriend. At midnight. In the cold.

“Wait-“ his hand caught you before you were out of reach. “Baby-“ he chuckled softly, tired eyes flickering with amusement. “We can’t go outside- it’s midnight, baby.” His other hand wrapped around your waist.

“But that’s the point! You have to experience the first snowfall of the year outside. And during night it’s even more beautiful!”

“Baby-“ he pulled you closer to his chest, his hand cupping your cheek. His thumb glided over your cheek as he shook his head subtly, “it’s very late-“

“But that’s the fun part-! Look it’s even full moon-!”

He shook his head yet again, “babygirl… I gotta go to sleep…”

Your shoulders sagged visibly, “oh-“

His tired eyes continued to look at you with the fondest expression. “We gotta sleep, hm? It’s late. I have work tomorrow.” He kissed your forehead, “we can do this another time. Let’s go to bed for now.”

Your heart tightened at that. Another time.

That’s what he always told you.

Always ‘another time’.

Always ‘I have no time’.

Always ‘I’m too tired’.

Your throat tightened painfully. You always have work. The words lingered on your tongue. But you held yourself back.

He is tired. Don’t be selfish. You reminded yourself.

You blinked your eyes repeatedly before he could notice. You merely nodded, feeling already hopeless and defeated.

When you were settled back in your bed, you somehow managed to lie furthest away from him. Usually, you would always have some kind of closeness when falling asleep — hands intertwined, bodies spooning, legs tangled together, his hand on your waist, or your feet nestled between his legs — whatever it was, your bodies were always touching.

At first, he didn’t think much of it — sleep already fogging his mind as soon as his head hit the pillow.

“Love you, pretty. G’night.” He murmured sleepily. Your back was facing him, and you couldn’t bring yourself to answer him because of the painful lump forming in your throat. You couldn’t shift closer to your boyfriend. Not because you were mad at him, of course not — he never gave you a reason to be angry at him. But you couldn’t help but feel hurt. The pain in your heart was just hurting too much. And you knew that as soon as you get in his warm embrace you would start crying.

Suddenly, his strong arm wrapped around your waist and swiftly pulled you across the bed to his chest. He buried his face in your hair, “I said I Iove you, baby.” He repeated in a low tone.

Your lips began to tremble. A single teardrop slid down your temple. He pressed a gentle kiss on your shoulder, “why’re you not answerin’? My princess ‘s already sleepin’?” His hand splayed across your stomach, your back resting warmly against his chest. “Hm?” You shook your head.

“What’s the matter, baby? Are you mad at me?” Your heart ached at his soft tone. It hurt you even more to hear that he thought you were mad at him.

You shook your head again, mumbling a wet, “‘course not.”

“Then tell me what’s wrong. Why’s my pretty princess not answering me?”

And that’s all that it took. You turned around in his embrace and just started sobbing. His warmth and gentle way with you were enough for you to break.

His doe eyes widened, “why, why, why??” His arms tightened immediately in a protective manner as you buried your face in his chest, your shoulders shaking.

“What- baby, baby. What’s wrong?? Why are you crying??” That made you cry even more. Causing his heart to ache even more. “What’s wrong??”

“I- I hate your j-job.” You choked on your tears, he couldn’t even understand it.

“What?” The crease between his eyebrows intensified.

“I hate your job!” You repeated louder, though it was muffled by his chest.

“What-?” He laughed softly, his hand came up to caress your head as the other spread out on your back protectively. “You hate my job? Why?”

“Cause- cause-“ you hesitated, “you’re constantly tired and sleepy!”

His heart melted in real time. “Awww~ baby…” he laid his cheek on your head. “Is this why you were crying earlier too?”

You nodded against his chest, pouting. “I saw the snow and came to tell you because I wanted to watch the snowfall with you, but- but you weren’t waking up no matter how much I tried. And it- it makes me so sad to see you so exhausted, and- and work so hard that- that you’re too tired to do stuff like that with me. We-we already spent so little time together and whenever we’re together you’re just too tired and just sleeping. I- I hate that job of y-yours. I- I hate seeing you so- so tired and exhausted.” You hiccuped, your tears stained his shirt as you clutched onto it tightly.

He caressed your hair, trying to calm you down. He cooed, “I’m sorry, baby.” He kissed your forehead. You snuggled further into him in response. “I’m sorry for not waking up. I didn’t know you loved the snow this much.” You shook your head at that, “no, Heeseung. It’s not about the snow- it’s- it’s about-“ you couldn’t explain any further, not finding the words as you sobbed loudly.

His arms tightened around, wanting to ground your trembling body. “Baby…” he murmured worriedly.

“Shh…” he hushed in your ear, “it’s okey, it’s okey. Let it out, hm?” He patted your back soothingly. His heart ached so painfully seeing you so upset. He had never seen you this distraught, he knew that there must another reason — you were hiding something else from him.

“Baby…” he kissed your temple, mumbling against it, “it’s okey, I’m here. Hm? I’m here.” He didn’t understand why but somehow that made you cry even harder, your tears didn’t seem to have an end. He couldn’t bear to listen to it any longer, his heart was tearing at every sob.

He cupped your cheek to tilt your face to him. “Hey, hey, hey, baby. What’s wrong? Why are you crying so much…? You’re breaking my heart, babygirl.” He kissed your swollen eyelids, one by one. Then your reddish nose, followed by a kiss on your forehead. “Don’t cry… please.” You sniffled softly, slowly calming down due to his gentle kisses and soft tone. He always spoke so gently with you.

“What’s wrong, princess? Did something else happen?” He tried, his hand caressing your cheek as the other held you close to him. You hiccuped under your breath, trying to calm down. You shook your head in denial, but he saw right through you. He tilted his head softly, doe eyes waiting patiently for you. Your lower lip jutted out as the corners of your lips went down.

“Come on, princess. Tell me. You need to tell me what’s making you upset.” He pecked the corner of your sad lips.

You hesitated for a moment. “A few days ago…” you started, he nodded immediately, his bambi eyes encouraging you, “I mean- a few nights ago, I had a dream-“ your eyes filled with tears, “I dreamed that you- that you left- left me.” A sob left your mouth, the tears blurred your vision again. His eyebrows furrowed instantly.

“I dreamed that you left- left me. Out of nowhere. It was so sudden and unexpected. In my dream, I woke up to text messages from you where you said that you had other dreams and that being with me was getting in your way of achieving them.” You hiccuped, the pain resurfaced saying it out loud like that. Your voice became timid: “You told me that our relationship was holding you back from chasing your dreams.”

“Oh princess…” he buried your wet face in his neck. But you continued: “And then you told me that you’re too tired to balance a career and a relationship and that- that you love your career… more than me-“ you sobbed louder towards the end.

He patted your trembling body, “hey… it was just a dream. Hm? Just a dream, my princess. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” His eyes became glassy, he couldn’t bear the imagination of leaving you. Hearing you talk about it ripped his heart apart into million pieces.

He kissed the top of your head as you wetted his neck, sobbing and sobbing. “I’m not leaving you, princess. Never.” His hand smoothed over your trembling back, the other never leaving the back of your head, “it was just a dream...”

“But- but it felt so real.” You sobbed.

“I know. I know.” He murmured against your temple, lips lingering there to soothe you. “But I’m here. You’re in my arms. I’m never leaving you.” He pulled away a little to look at your tear streaked face. “I hate seeing you cry like this.” He spoke as he wiped the tears away. “That Heeseung in your dream? He is stupid, okey? He is not me,” he kissed your forehead, “never will be me. He is just a foolish idiot who doesn’t know how precious you are.” He kissed your flushed cheeks.

“You mean it?” Your small voice trembled. Doubt evident.

“Of course.” He answered firmly. “You’re my beautiful princess, alright? The most precious possession I own. I could never be so stupid and leave you behind, do you understand?” You nodded against his neck. “I love you so much, my angel.” He caressed your hair, “I will never leave you. I promise. You have no idea how much I depend on you. I can’t imagine a life without you. Never.”

His throat tightened, “I know it gets exhausting to date me. I know it’s not easy. I don’t have an ordinary life. But if I tell you you’re all I have, then I’m begging you to believe me. I promise it will get better. Our relationship will not stay like this forever. There are better days ahead. Days where I won’t be as busy anymore. And I’m truly, truly grateful that I have such a patient and understanding partner. I truly am.”

He grasped your hand and kissed your knuckles one after another. He then rested your intertwined hands on his chest, right above his heart.

“And I want you to know one thing: There are many things I want to achieve in life. Many dreams that have yet to be fulfilled. But there is not a single dream of mine that doesn’t have you in it. There’s no future for me without you. A future without you simply doesn’t exist.”

The lump in your throat appeared once again. Your eyes met his though your vision was blurry, yet again.

“Promise?” Your voice was rough from crying so much.

“I promise, angel.” He hook your pinky with his own and pressed a kiss on it. “Pinky promise,” he whispered.

You nodded, blinking your teary eyes as you settled on his chest again, seeking comfort.

“I love you so much, princess. More than you can ever imagine.”

You nodded against his chest, tightening your own arms around his torso, afraid he might disappear.

“I love you too, Heeseungie.” You rapsed, exhaustion now catching up to you.

Heeseung’s heartbeat underneath you lulled you steadily and quickly into sleep, your eyes fluttered shut.

His hand rested on your cheek, thumb drawing circles on it before he pressed a good night kiss on your forehead. After a while of caressing your cheek and patting your back, he spoke again:

“I promise, tomorrow, before I leave for work we will play in the snow, okey? We can build a snowman together.”

Silence answered him.

When he glanced down, he realized that you were already knocked out on his chest. He chuckled under his breath.

“Look at you, princess. Knocked out in under a minute. You were fighting your sleep, hm? My tired baby…”

He pulled the cover over your shoulders, making sure you were snuggled in so that no cold could reach you.

“Sweet dreams, princess.”

It didn’t take long for him to quickly follow you into the world of dreams.

⋆.˚✮☽☯︎☾✮˚.⋆ ⋆.˚✮☽☯︎☾✮˚.⋆ ⋆.˚✮☽☯︎☾✮˚.⋆ ⋆.˚✮☽☯︎☾✮˚.⋆ ⋆.˚✮☽☯︎☾✮˚.⋆

Sooo… i started writing this in September last year after they finished the Walk the line tour. It somehow feels off to post this now because… yk… he’s not that busy anymore with touring/high demanding schedules so it feels kinda off and not suitable anymore. But I’m cleaning up my drafts so I had to force myself to finish this. Tbh I don’t like the ending, it feels forced and unrealistic — what do you guys think? I put some elements from our current situation… ts hurt like hell, but I had this urge to put it in the fic for some reason. I was about to make a sad ending bc I’m not feeling a happy ending with what’s going on irl but idk… I thought maybe this will comfort someone. Perhaps I don’t like this happy ending because irl we will be stuck in this nightmare forever and will never wake up from it and will never be told that this was all a dream, that he never left us, that he’s still in enhypen, and we are still engenes to him… we will never have this kinda happy ending, yeah maybe that’s the reason why I don’t like it 🫠 dang…

Pls comment!! I love reading them

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for this fic: @jjongsiess

All works are copyrighted ©youngheejay 2026.

[courire]

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ 愛 ‎───── ‎NEW LIFE ’

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎🐞。 ‎ ‎𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖻𝗈𝗒 𝖽𝖺𝖽 𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗎𝗇𝗀.

𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗜𝗢 ﹑ 희승 & fem!rea ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎❥ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎fluff, petnames, romance‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎✶ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎𝗥𝗘𝗤𝗦。

[heejamas]

NICEST GUY

pairing: jake x fem!reader x sunghoon synopsis: you decide to go to your first college party after two years, and after having to take care of two different drunk men, your college life changes drastically. genre: social media au (smau), crack, fluff, smut, strangers to lovers, love triangle, college au status: finished! (12/22/2024 - 04/12/2025) playlist: jake's playlist | sunghoon's playlist

warnings: profanity, sexual jokes, little bit polygamic, weed consumption, alcohol consumption, ignore timestamps please!!! it's all crack zero braincells kinda au, reader is jungwon's twin sister, jake and hoon hate each other

teaser 📓

profiles: 1 | 2 | 3

chapters

1. greek god 2. the bro code 3. jungwon's best friend 4. rabbit hole 5. niki from the future 6. she's coming... 7. the aftermath (2.6k words) 8. like a prayer trend 9. werefolf 10. naruto and sasuke are gay 11. thanks sigmund freud 12. bros like to gossip 13. women are dating robots in 2025 14. between two wolves (2k words + 6 screenshots) 15. shawty had them apple bottom jeans 16. the john cena episode 17. TELL ME WHY 18. sigma boy 19. rose bowl 20. hate to mate bowl 21. tom brady and patrick mahomes 22. unspoken desires (5.5 works + 6 screenshots) 23. hungary field trip 24. sunghoon diss track 25. fifa straight male gathering 26. just close the door (1.3k words + 8 screenshots) 27. nikola jokic 28. the super bowl episode (10k words + 10 screenshots 29. tdot 30. travis kelce but he's from japan 31. chateau marmont 32. tax evasion is a victimless crime 33. the premiere (15k words) 34. binding contract with the devil 35. just like tt 36. world war 5 just dropped 37. magnesium the mouse 38. the final chapter (6.7k words + 20 screenshots)

heejama's masterlist 📎

author's note: hey guys! this is my first long smau so i hope you guys like it 🥹 taglist is open, just comment down below or dm me 🤍

© all rights reserved @/heejamas — do not repost, copy, translate, or modify my works without explicit permission. these are works of fiction and are not meant to represent real-life actions, thoughts, or personalities of any public figures

[hoondrop]

ENHYPEN AS GREEK TROPES/ MYTHS

synopsis: enhypen as greek tropes/ tales but with a slight modern twist.

cw: tragedy, romance, major character death, no smut for once

Eros and Psyche - Kim Sunoo

prince sunoo x concubine reader

you live as a nameless shadow in the royal court, bound by the queen's strict decree that you must cover your face whenever you entertain the crown prince. the law is meant to protect sunoo from the vulnerability of affection, but he defies his mother’s cold rules by falling deeply in love with you anyway, captivated solely by your laughter, your voice, and the gentle touch of your hands. he treasures these midnight hours, but the burning desire to truly know the woman who holds his heart becomes too much to bear. one night, as you fall into a deep, exhausted sleep beside him, sunoo lets his curiosity win and delicately lifts the edge of your silk veil. seeing your face for the very first time causes him to fall even harder, completely spellbound by a beauty he is forbidden to possess. he traces your cheek with trembling fingers, terrified of waking you but entirely consumed by a fierce, protective devotion that cements his fate that he will tear down his mother’s entire kingdom before he ever lets them force that mask back onto you.

Orpheus and Eurydice - Lee Heeseung

in witness protection reader x reckless heeseung

you are trapped in the silence of a high-level witness protection program, a living ghost hidden away by the government after uncovering a web of political corruption. to the rest of the world, you have ceased to exist, but heeseung cannot accept a reality where he is completely severed from you. his longing becomes a dangerous obsession, driving him to slip past the federal handlers in the dead of night and risk everything just to see you one last time. a reunion that is cut short by a faint noise on the fire escape. instead of staying hidden, heeseung’s protective instinct betrays him; he turns around completely to pull you into his chest, exposing your position to the moonlight. a sniper’s bullet misses him and strikes you instead. as federal agents swarm the building and drag a screaming heeseung back into the shadows witness, you slip away from him forever, leaving him to realize that his desperate need to look back at you is exactly what cost you your life.

Hades and Persephone - Park Sunghoon

superhero reader x supervillain sunghoon

you are a rising star in a celebrated league of heroes, fighting tirelessly to protect the city from the shadows of its greatest threat, sunghoon. he rules the criminal underworld, an untouchable force who suddenly becomes obsessed with you after watching you during a confrontation. to get what he wants, sunghoon stages a massive high-stakes attack on the city to lure your team in and successfully kidnap you. at first, you fight him fiercely, refusing to lose hope and constantly watching the monitors for any sign of a rescue mission from your team. but sunghoon plays a psychological game, carefully manipulating the live news feeds and security footage to show your group celebrating victories and moving on easily without you. as the painful feeling of being forgotten sinks in, sunghoon steps in showering you with attention, respect and validation you never received from your team. slowly and gradually, your resistance melts away under his devotion until you finally accept your place by his side. completely in love with the villain who orchestrates everything just to have you and feed into his obsession.

Odysseus and Penelope - Park Jongseong

aristocrat reader x lower class jay

you belong to a powerful aristocratic family that bitterly disapproves of your marriage to jay, a man from a broken home with nothing but his loyalty and devotion to you. when jay suddenly vanishes without a trace, your parents immediately seize the opportunity, dragging you back to their estate and parading wealthy suitors before you to force a prestigious marriage. for ten agonizing years, you fiercely resist their pressure and refuse to give in, clinging to the stubborn belief that jay would never willingly abandon you and you are right, as your family secretly paid to have him abducted and thrown somewhere left for dead. during his long absence, you quietly give birth to a son jay never knew existed, raising the boy in defiance of your family's wishes. after years of fighting a brutal war for his freedom, jay finally breaks his chains and tracks you down, stepping out of the shadows for a long-awaited reunion. but the moment he holds you in his arms, his gaze falls upon a ten year old boy with his exact eyes, leaving jay entirely overwhelmed as he realizes he didn't just win back his wife, but a son he is ready to protect against your family's empire.

Dionysus and Ariadne - Yang Jungwon

hero's girl reader x vigilante jungwon

you are the devoted partner of the city's revered golden boy hero, a man who chooses his duty and legacy over your life when a catastrophic crisis forces him to choose between saving the city or saving you. without a second thought the hero leaves you for dead, trading your life for public adoration and the salvation of the masses. but as the world crumbles around you, jungwon the city's most elusive and chaotic person which the world cannot decide is good or bad, and the mastermind behind its most intoxicating hedonistic underground lounges, tears through the wreckage to save you. jungwon thrives on absolute indulgence and zero morality and he mockingly makes it clear to the world that while the hero serves the people, he would gladly watch the entire planet burn before he lets a single hair on your head be harmed. while the city celebrates your ex-partner's noble sacrifice, jungwon sweeps you away to his lavish sanctuary, drowning your sorrow in endless luxury, wild freedom that completely heals your broken heart. as you look out at the city from his velvet throne, you realize you have traded a cold, sacrificial saint for a beautiful and dangerous man who makes you the undisputed queen of his empire.

Hero and Leander - Sim Jaeyun

dirty cop reader x drug dealer jake

you are a highly decorated detective in a corrupt city, secretly acting as the dirty cop and inside informant for jake, a conniving drug dealer ruling the streets. your dangerous alliance is built on a tight high-stakes routine. you monitor the precinct's encrypted radio channels and leave a specific flashing light on your apartment balcony to signal to jake when the coast is clear for him to slip through the alleys and meet you in secret. for months, your midnight hours are an intoxicating escape of whispered secrets and forbidden touch that started of with exchange of drugs for information and warnings, until a task force launches a surprise unannounced raid on jake’s main distribution hub, blocking all communication and cutting the grid to your building. terrified because you know jake is walking right into a lethal ambush at the drop point without your warning, you steal a vehicle and race into the city, desperate to reach him before the feds do. just as a massive shootout erupts in the rain, jake steps out from the shadows of a burning alley, bleeding and exhausted but completely unyielding as he fires back at the tactical teams to clear a path straight to your car, proving that no army of cops or deadly trap can keep him from reaching you.

Pygmalion and Galatea - Nishimura Riki

ostracized socialite x fashion mogul riki

you are a disgraced former prodigy in the cutthroat, elite world of high society, stripped of your title and left entirely ruined after a public scandal orchestrated by your 'friends'. just as you hit rock bottom, you catch the attention of riki, the city's youngest most powerful luxury fashion mogul and a ruthless underworld kingpin who is utterly obsessed with aesthetic perfection and control. seeing the raw potential buried beneath your broken spirit, riki takes you under his wing intending to use you as his ultimate project to humiliate the high society that discarded you. for months, he personally molds every aspect of your new identity, teaching you how to walk with grace, dressing you in breathtaking custom couture and teaching you the cold, calculating mask needed to survive the elite. pouring his infinite wealth and sharp intellect into making you the most captivating woman in the city. but as you step out into the spotlight, completely dazzling the very people who ruined you, riki realizes he has fallen desperately in love with the flawless, powerful person he sculpted, and the thought of anyone else looking at his masterpiece drives him to a dark possessive madness that ensures you will only ever belong on his pedestal, on his runway on his stage.

[mwaeom]

I’M NOT A PARK ANYMORE, I TOOK MY WIFE’S NAME … ❤︎ park sunghoon

PART 1 ─── bored of your life, you go on tinder and match with a hot guy named park sunghoon, who in his bio, states that he’s “date to marry.” but he offers you a deal: fake a marriage with him to annoy his obnoxious family and he’ll pay you for it.

or you’re in a fake marriage with sunghoon and he takes your last name to piss his relatives off. oh and did i tell you that he’s lowkey obsessed with you? even though he’s just your “fake husband.”

contains husband!sunghoon x wife!reader. smau, romcom, strangers to lovers, fake marriage au. obsessed!sunghoon. sunghoon comes from a rich fam. use of y/n. yn is lowk easy. opposite of slowburn but dw their relationship actually progresses

( 🪽 ) —— first enha smau >< hope u guys like it :P likes, comments, & reblogs r appreciated <3 btw i have never used tinder so i js edited shi .. also there's a videocall part that'll take a few seconds to load.. also pls their texts gets funnier, its still pt1!

( 🪽 ) —— TY FOR READING! worked on this baby for a WHILE... finally posting it FAHH. do comment if u wanna be tagged in the next part :P i'll try my best to post the next part asap (as i literally have 3 ongoing smaus rn..)

© mwaeom, all rights reserved. please do not repost, claim as your own, or copy. thanksies ᭝ ᨳଓ

[sjynlvr]

࣪ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ lost in syntax ✶ lhs

synopsis:

The morning sky is orange, the grass is green, snow is white, roses are red, violets are blue, you've liked Lee Heeseung since first year of high school, and that's a fact everyone knows to be true.

Well, except for the man himself.

Heeseung―bless his heart―is passionate about his major, specialising his projects in game development to spread the joy he feels when he plays a well-made game. That's great, admirable, even.

But what's not so admirable is the fact that it's the same passion that renders him blind to everything else other than code and syntax. You left him gifts and letters in your first year of high school, he didn't see them. You dropped hints in your second year of high school, he didn't see them.

Then, from the third year of high school, till the present time―second year of being together in the Computer Sciences department of Decelis University―you've been obvious as one can be.

To everyone but Heeseung, that is.

You're on the verge of giving up on your unrequited love, when your friends propose a last ditch idea―to have one of your mutual friends in the theatre department “confess” to you, and take you out on a few “dates.”

All of a sudden, Heeseung's everywhere, sticking to your side like super glue, arm wrapped around your shoulders, glaring at every other guy who approaches you―and perhaps, not everything was lost in syntax as you'd thought it to be, after all.

pairing: cs major!lee heeseung x cs major!f!reader (ft chem-eng major!riki, film & media major!jay, vet med major!jake, nutriscience major!sunghoon, drama & theater majors!yeonjun & beomgyu, cs major!chaewon, dance major!megan, childhood education major!fuma, interior design major!jo)

genre: obvious x oblivious trope, romance, unrequited love (for a majority of the fic), crack, slow burn

word count: 27.9k

warning(s): hee's as oblivious as a rock i'm so sorry; reader is easily ragebaited; PRE-SCHOOL TEACHER FUMA (yes, he's in training, but yes, he still needs a warning of his own); the gang lowk wants to empty sunghoon's bank account; jayke consider hee's obliviousness to be true & actual ragebait; riki likes making fun of reader for being horrendously down bad for heeseung; yeonjun will do ANYTHING for the love of the game; beomgyu just wants his idiot best friends to get together because he's TIRED of reader being sad and miserable over hee; beomgyu also likes to ragebait hee to make up for all the years he's had to listen to reader yap and wax poetics abt him; sunoo gets mildly violent from time to time, but only out of necessity; sunghoon is just there for the vibes™; jo is a confused sweetheart half the time but he's got the spirit; fumajo need their own label; heeseung becomes kinda possessive but he's hot so we can ignore that; beomgyu, in fact, does sell reader's likes to his fellow theatre majors for a bit of extra cash; heeseung cries a little; yeonjun is a respectful king; banter (LOTS of it); chaewon & megan are mildly evil masterminds LMAO

asher's annotations: wrote this fic with my favourite hee stan @heejamas in mind <3 half of my story notes for this was me mourning ur absence in the blr and having zero motivation to finish this fic BUT WAR IS OVER WE CHEER THANK U FOR COMING BACK TO US!1!11! IN RONNIE HEEJAMAS WE TRUST!1!1!1!1!1! please believe me when i say that i was wrote nearly 17k for this fic in the past few days as soon as i realised that i was, in fact, not hallucinating you making a comeback to enhablr after i sent in those few asks & u actually responded LMAOOO immediately had to change the notes for the fic where i was whining abt missing u for what seemed like an eternity, and i have sm to yap abt to you but i will spare u the pain of having to sit thru all that, so have this fic instead <33

ALSO a huge, huge thank u to @heetaki for being so enthusiastic abt this fic like,,, half of my encouragement to write comes from u ngl 😝 please enjoy both of ur biases in the same fic because i miss yapping to you abt how excited i was to write this fic for just about forever <333 i hope this wasn't too late for me to post it after teasing this fic to u for so long LMFAO imy sm my deer cutie!!

on other notes, writing some parts of this fic felt very, very bittersweet to do so, but ik that i'll always cheer for heeseung & support him on whatever path he chooses to walk. forever my bambi boy, no matter whether he's enhypen's heeseung, or evan the artist 💜 so happy to see enha win aoty recently, and very very excited for hee's upcoming album!

this story is a part of the ot7 EXTRA CREDIT series, and is interconnected to the other stories there, but can also be read as a standalone! also, here's the actual chats that were meant to be added to the cat café scene, if u couldn't get the post from the link in the story, bc i unforch ran out of image limits sigh :(((

hope u enjoy reading this baby—there's no use of y/n anywhere, but if i missed smth, please lmk! and as always perm tl & tl for the series are always open <33 reblogs and feedback are very much appreciated, and ily all cuties! thank u for being so patient despite how long this took to write, & thank u sm for reading xx

ᯤ ACT ONE: THE CIRCULAR SYNTAX OF OBLIVIOUSNESS

You hold the gaze of the chicken looking at you, its empty, soulless eyes staring back into your own.

“Good god,” Beomgyu groans, smacking the back of your head and breaking your moment with the chicken plastered on the ramyeon packaging, “it's just ramyeon. Pick a flavour and get a move on, woman.” You whirl around to face him, kicking him on the back of the knees, which he tries—and fails miserably—to dodge, moaning in pain as the hit lands.

“It's not just any ramyeon, it's Heeseung's ramyeon,” you hiss at him, shoving both the cheese flavour and the spicy one into your basket, “it is imperative that he likes my picks.”

Beomgyu rolls his eyes, throwing in a pack of sour gummies into the basket when you're distracted. “You said that about the flavoured milk at the school cafeteria too,” he walks next to you, adding more snacks to the basket in your arms that's steadily growing heavier by the minute.

“You got him both the strawberry and chocolate flavours, but turns out that he likes the banana one instead.” You glare at him, placing some of the extra packets of crisps back into their places on the shelves. “That was in the first week I knew him, you dunce! It's been five months since then! I'm more aware of what he likes now!”

He lets out a long suffering sigh, pulling out his Ponyo-themed wallet to pay for his share of the snacks. “He likes everything apart from you, apparently,” he mutters under his breath, but you hear it anyways, glaring hotly at him despite the smile you give the cashier.

“Are you that tired of living, Choi Beomgyu?” He makes a face at you, grabbing two of the four bags and heading out of the convenience store. “I'm not tired of living in general, but I sure am tired of living through your bad decisions.”

“I do not make bad decisions!” You huff, falling into step with his stride, elbowing his side. “You chose to fall for a guy whose internal processor—aka his brain—processes everything around him as friendliness and niceties. I'd call that a bad decision.” You grumble under your breath, and he bumps his shoulder into yours for it. “Being friends with you was a bad decision, I'd say.”

“I am a perfectly wonderful friend,” Beomgyu snarks, blowing his bangs away from his face. “You'd still be stuttering and eyeing him from afar if I hadn't become friends with him, you loser.”

You round the corner to Jay's home, hastening your steps as the sky begins to darken with the tell tale signs of an incoming storm. “I didn't ask you to be friends with him for me,” you pull your cardigan closer as a chilly breeze blows past you, “you did that all on your own.”

“I would've made sure he hated me if you'd asked me to be friends with him,” he snorts, adjusting his backpack to sit better on his shoulder. “You're so lucky I tolerate you enough to put in a good word or two for you.” You lunge for him again, and he yelps, skipping ahead. “Watch those hands, woman! This face is precious!”

You grab him by his uniform's collar, and drag him along as the large building that Jay called home comes into view. “I'll show you precious,” you keep a tight grip on him, even as he shrieks and flails around, “when I steal all your Ponyo figurines.”

“You... You monster!” He gasps, standing up straight again when you let go of him to push the gate open. “Not my Ponyo figurines!” You give him an annoyed glance over your shoulder, walking past the pathway leading to the Parks' doorstep. “I'll go after the Calcifer ones next if you keep getting on my nerves.”

Beomgyu immediately shuts up at that, pursing his lips as he stands next to you. Satisfied at his reaction, you huff out a chuckle, before knocking on the large front door.

Rapping your knuckles thrice against the wood, you wait for a grand total of three minutes, before Jay's mother pulls the door open, her face lighting up at the sight of you and Beomgyu.

“My darlings!” She coos, giving both of you hugs as she ushers you in. “I was just about to send Jay to fetch you both. Oh, you came right on time—it's raining!”

The pitter patter of the raindrops against the window panes joins the rustling of plastic bags, as you and Beomgyu organise the snacks for tonight's group study session.

Mrs Park hums, dropping in some of the chocolate you like into the pile, smiling at you. “Heeseung, Chaewon, and Jake are already upstairs with Jay. I'll call you kids down when dinner is done, so come down at once, alright? Don't make me call for you over and over again.”

Nodding, you give the older woman a mock salute. “Yes ma'am, we'll bring everyone down as soon as you call!” She laughs heartily, before shooing away the two of you so that she can work on dinner in peace. You trudge up the stairs leading to Jay's bedroom, as Beomgyu mutters complaints under his breath with every step he climbs.

After what seems like an eternity climbing the staircase, you finally reach the room you've come to know by heart to be Jay's, and kick the door open, not bothering to knock.

“We come bearing metabolic fuel,” you and Beomgyu announce in unison, and Jay groans loudly. “Why can't you just say you've got food like normal people do?”

“Where's the fun in that, Jay-Jay?” Beomgyu points a wafer stick at Jay, though it's more annoying than threatening. “Where's the whimsy in your life?” Jake grins, throwing his arm around your shoulders as he pulls you down to sit next to him on Jay's bed.

“Yeah, Jay,” he snickers, dodging the paperball Jay throws at his head, “where is the whimsy in your life?” Chaewon snorts into her glass of juice, giving Heeseung a grateful glance as he wordlessly hands her a tissue. “Probably flew away with his dreams. Or maybe it never existed in the first place.”

Heeseung snickers softly, sipping his drink, and your heart skips a beat unfairly at the sound. His eyes meet yours from across the room, and his expression softens into a warm smile. Jake and Beomgyu, catching sight of the two of you, nudge each other with knowing smiles.

He shifts to be closer to you, letting Chaewon get closer to Jay, so that she can bother him while he grouches about her ruining his hair. “Hey,” he grins at you, bumping your shoulder with his. “I hope Beomgyu didn't make you get an unnecessary amount of snacks.”

You shake your head, adjusting your uniform's skirt nervously. “Oh, no. Not at all. I put the extra ones back into their places.” Heeseung nods, carefully glancing at the way you shuffle, and pulls off his jacket to rest it on your lap.

Then, like he hadn't just wrecked all five of your senses with his close proximity, he goes back to having normal conversation with everyone again. “Hey, did anyone do the physics homework for Mr Kim's class?”

Chaewon groans at the mention of the homework, flopping onto the floor by Jay's feet. “Jake, let me copy off of you.” Jake throws a pillow at her instead, pulling his bag closer protectively. “Do your own. You'll never learn physics otherwise.”

Beomgyu and Jay lock eyes for a few moments, before turning to Jake and speaking in unison. “We'll buy Layla all the pup cups she wants for the next month if you let us copy it.”

“Deal.” Jake's handing them the binder from his bag before they even finish their entire sentence, a pleased smile plastering on his face as soon as Layla was mentioned. Chaewon stares at him, affronted at the sight in front of her, and you laugh at the look on her face. “So you'll give it to them, but not me?!”

Jake snorts, waving a pen in the air. “Difference is, they asked with a benefit for Layla. You, however, asked with a benefit for only yourself in mind. Of course I wouldn't give it to you.”

Beomgyu waves the binder up in the air like it's a trophy, before shoving it into Chaewon's face. “You gotta work smarter, not harder. Let this be a lesson for you.” He gives Jay a high five, the other boy looking incredibly proud of himself for having secured Jake's handiwork beforehand.

Heeseung shakes his head with a smile, and offers his own work to Chaewon. “Here, Chae. You can have mine instead. Not as accurate as Jake, but I wouldn't say I did terrible on it either.”

“Thank you! Thank you!” Chaewon squeals, clapping her hands as she looks at Heeseung like he'd hung up the moon and stars for her—all over physics homework—before puling out her own papers to copy. “As long as it gets done, I'm fine with how it happens!”

Snickering at the sight of your friends' antics, you pull Heeseung's jacket closer to yourself, and finally get to work on your own schoolwork.

As hard as it is to concentrate when Heeseung's fingers brush against yours when you're writing your reports, or when his thigh brushes against yours whenever he shuffles to get comfortable on the floors of Jay's room, or even when every lungful of breath you take comes laced with the scent of his cologne—something crisp and clean, like a late summer day in the woods—thanks to his jacket that you're wrapped up in, you somehow manage to complete your schoolwork.

The fear of your mother ran deeper than the fear of Heeseung not reciprocating your feelings, after all. Nobody was spared during exam week, hopeless crush or not.

Jake's the first one to break, Beomgyu following him right after. “It's been three hours,” Jake groans as he checks his phone, “I'm absolutely famished. What stuff did you two bring?” Beomgyu lists off the snacks you'd bought together, counting on his fingers.

“Uh... let me see... crisps, some sweet stuff, ice cream, cup noodles, chocolates, and oh yeah, she,” he points to you, “swept off an entire shelf of ramyeon for at least two of every single flavour they had in stock.”

Jake lights up at the mention of ramyeon, and from the corner of your eye, you see Heeseung perk up as well, his attention immediately caught by the mention of ramyeon. “Yes! Anybody up for a ramyeon break?”

Heeseung's already halfway towards the door when Jake finishes his sentence, nodding at Jake. “I'll cook it. Anybody else want some?” You and Chaewon raise your hands in unison, and he takes that into account.

“Jay?” He tilts his head at the younger boy, who's coming to stand next to him. “I'm only coming to make sure that you don't burn down my kitchen,” he says, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Nothing else.”

Heeseung ruffles Jay's hair with a fond smile, before pulling the door open for the rest of you to follow. The pitter patter of your steps down the stairs is quiet despite the excitement over a hot bowl of ramyeon after a long study session, with everyone being careful not to make noise to disturb Jay's parents.

“I call counter stool!” Jake all but launches himself onto one, with Chaewon following after as him as Jay yells at them to be more careful. You take a seat by the front of the counter, watching Heeseung's back as he moves around the kitchen with fluid grace, like he's been doing it for a long time.

Well, he really would've been doing it for a long time, considering the fact that he and Jay were childhood friends, but the sight of him doing something as simple as cooking still sent your heart tumbling and cartwheeling, and he didn't even know the effect he had on you. How unfair life could be sometimes.

Heeseung combs through the packs, before pausing at a particularly large one—and you feel your heart nearly stutter to a stop. It was the one you'd bought specifically for him—a special edition pack, featuring his favourite video game character (and a free figurine of said character), and he holds it up in the air.

“Did you buy this?” He turns to you with a wide grin, his fingers clutching the pack of ramyeon tightly, and your chest tightens just a little bit more at the sight of his wide grin, ears beginning to flush under your hair. “Y-yeah, I had to get it when I saw it, you know—”

“Perfect,” he breathes, unintentionally interrupting you, his hands already beginning to open up the pack, “it's the perfect amount for everyone to have! You've got such a good eye for noticing it!”

Your chest loosens right back up, and the flush dies back down the moment you register his words. Jay gives you a nod of his head from across the counter, and you sigh sufferingly at your crush's obliviousness.

Watching him get all excited over the figurine does makes it a little better, so you huff out a chuckle and nod at him. “Yeah. Perfect amount, isn't it? What figurine did you get?” He laughs brightly, showing it off to you. “Do you mind if I keep it?”

That's the whole reason you brought that brand, but whatever. As long as it makes him happy.

“Yeah,” you pat his arm, “you can keep it. You know more about her than I do, anyways.” He smiles wider, carefully putting the figurine into his pocket. “Thank you,” he breathes, “I'll take good care of it. And my offer still stands, you know?” He tilts his head at you, a lopsided grin tugging at his lips.

“I'm still open to teaching you how to play.” You nod at him, shuffling over to sit in between Chaewon and Jake, who comfortingly rubs your knee.

“During the vacations?” Heeseung chuckles, murmuring an agreement as he turns back to the bubbling water, carefully pouring in the contents of the seasoning packets.

At least the ramyeon would taste good with Heeseung making it for everyone.

The smell of ramyeon permeates the air soon enough, and Jake's stomach grumbles loudly. “Oof,” he groans, laying his head on your shoulder, “I'm so hungry I could eat cement at this point.”

You roll your eyes, pinching his cheek fondly. “It's only five more minutes, Jake. You'll survive.” Chaewon covers her mouth with her hand to muffle her laughter, as Jay quips in response to Jake's dramatics from the other end of the counter, nonchalantly scrolling through his phone for any new updates on the ongoing F1 qualifier. “I sure hope he doesn't.”

Jake lifts his head from your shoulder with a loud, dramatic gasp, looking much akin to a kicked puppy. “Jay! That was uncalled for!” Beomgyu pats his shoulder, a solemn expression on his face. “It's okay, Jake, it's okay,” Jake gives him a grateful look, which only morphs into a look of incredulous offense as Beomgyu continues, “we all know that you're a little sensitive, so we'll make sure to get a coffin from the highest quality wood for you—”

He doesn't get to finish the rest of his sentence, because Jake lunges at him with an offended roar. They chase each other around the kitchen, prompting shrieks of amusement and excitement from you and Chaewon, before Beomgyu pulls Jay away from his seat to use him as a human shield (“You're the one who started this, so you finish it too!”) while a very annoyed Jake swats at them both with a fly swatter, landing hits left and right, even as Chaewon cheers every time he misses his targets.

Wiping your amused tears at their antics, when you turn your head to the side, you find Heeseung looking at the three with some of the softest, fondest smiles you've ever seen on his face, and your traitorous heart ramps up its rhythm again, leaving you breathless at the sight of it.

As if feeling the weight of your stare on him, Heeseung turns to catch your gaze, and gestures to the pot of now-cooked ramyeon next to him. 'Wanna eat before it gets cold?' He mouths at you, and you slide off your seat to come join him in slurping them down.

You're halfway through your second bowl, when Beomgyu finally catches sight of you and Heeseung already eating, and raises an offended huff that gets the other three's attention.

You laugh loudly as Jake and Jay manhandle Heeseung for starting without them, while Beomgyu and Chaewon shake you by your shoulders as “punishment” instead.

Even when things begin to calm down, even with the fights that follow after over who gets to eat the next bowl and who gets to have more of the soup, the smile never leaves your face, as you tuck Heeseung's jacket closer.

He catches your eye again in the midst of the chaos, and gives you a mischievous little smile, like this is supposed to be a secret between the two of you alone, before Beomgyu pulls him into a discussion about Spirited Away.

Your heart seems to have made a rhythm of its own when it came to Heeseung, and you decide that fighting it is a waste of energy, letting the warmth of being with your friends curl up right next to it.

Yeah, you could definitely get used to having more of this around.

Sneaking a letter into the locker of someone who you knew all too well seemed to be a harder task than you anticipated.

It didn't help that Heeseung liked to linger a lot around you—especially since you, Jake, Sunghoon, and Jay were in the same class together—and Heeseung being childhood friends with Jay meant that his close proximity to you was a given, even if you were part of the same friend group.

It also didn't help that you and Heeseung had to take the same route home, and your classes often ended just around the same time, so he'd be by his locker before you could drop the letter in.

If you wanted to do in the morning, it wouldn't work out either, because Heeseung insisted on joining you on the way to school in the mornings too (“Safety in numbers, you know? I know it's just morning, but we'd all be free of worry if one of us came with you—and I live the closest to you, so it works out, yeah?”), and of course you couldn't deny him, especially when he asked you that with that soft, worried voice like he cared for you (even if it was the same voice he used for everybody else in the friend group when he was worried about them too). So mornings were off the table too.

Lunch meant that Jake had everybody show up to eat on time—and not doing so resulted in earning his wrath, which was surprisingly terrifying for someone as sweet as he was—so that went another opportunity.

Doing it between classes was next to impossible because of course Heeseung knew everybody's schedules by heart, like the wonderfully attentive person he was.

That meant that the last option you had was to do it right before the shared PE class on Friday you had with his division, when you knew he wouldn't check on his locker—which meant you could slip it in without drawing suspicions, or running late to class.

Sunghoon and Jay immediately agreed to distract Heeseung for you when you told them the plan on Monday, while Jake said he'd distract the teacher for a bit. Beomgyu and Chaewon were on watch duty, making sure that nobody from Heeseung's fanclub would spot you putting the letter in, because the last thing you needed was someone ratting out your feelings about your friend.

Friday arrives rather fast for your liking, but the way your friends seem to take their duties seriously brings you a little bit of comfort. At least you weren't alone with this.

As soon as class ends, Sunghoon and Jay herd Heeseung to the cafeteria under the guise of being hungry, while Jake flashes you a thumbs up and heads off to distract Mr Han, the PE teacher with nonsensical questions about volleyball that he'd prepared beforehand.

“Come on, come on,” Beomgyu and Chaewon rush you along the hallways, coming to a stop at Heeseung's locker. Beomgyu takes guard by the turn of the corner, while Chaewon accompanies you to the locker.

“Okay, you can do this!” She chirps encouragingly, patting your back, “all you have to do is drop it in. Did you write your name on it?” You shake your head, exhaling softly. “Okay, here goes nothing.... and it's in.”

The envelope sits by his books—not so obscure that he would miss it, but not so obvious that it'd jump out at him either—and you shut the door. Chaewon pats your back, dragging you over to Beomgyu.

“It's done~” She sing-songs, and he relaxes, looping his arm around yours. “Well, I suppose now we wait. Anyways, Jake's annoyed Mr Han enough, so we should head over before he gets told off.”

PE class is rather uneventful—spare the few stray hits and falls—and Heeseung brings the letter with him, joining your group as school ends. “Guys,” he says, holding up the envelope, “I got a letter, I think. But it's anonymous.”

“Oh,” you breathe, fingers flexing by your sides as you try your best to be normal. “Did... Did you read it?” Jake gives you a side eye, glaring at you for asking that question. Sunghoon echoes your question, leaning against Jay's side. “Yeah, Heeseung hyung, did you read it?”

“I did,” he nods, a shy smile on his face, the tips of his ears flushed pink. Beomgyu gives you a smirk at his reaction, while Chaewon teasingly nudges Heeseung's side. “Hey, what's with that reaction? What kind of a letter is it?”

Heeseung clears his throat, before speaking. “A very sweet one. The writer was very nice with what they wrote about me,” he says, before his expression turns thoughtful. “But I did find something interesting.”

“What would that be?” Jay leans in closer, looking awfully interested. “The way the writer wrote the letter seemed quite familiar, you know? Like I.... wait,” Heeseung turns his head towards you. “The writer had the exact same handwriting as you.”

You feel your hands go cold and clammy—of course he'd recognise your handwriting, he'd seen it a hundred times; you should've printed it out, not handwrite it because you wanted to be sincere—as everyone else apart from you and Heeseung tenses up, some better at hiding it than the others.

But the tension doesn't last any longer, as Heeseung himself breaks it, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “Crazy coincidence, right?” He laughs, and your tension dissipates like a deflating balloon, as everyone—you included—heaves a sigh of relief. “That anonymous writer has the same handwriting as my friend—what are the chances of that, truly? I'd love to be friends with them because they seem so sweet and nice.”

“Yeah,” you give him a tight grin, laughing a little too loud. “Absolutely crazy coincidence.” He grins brightly, already pulling you along the route leading to home.

Well, that was a dud. At least you still had other methods to try out.

The staring contest with the soulless chicken seems to continue, as it dangles in your face, almost as if taunting you.

“Why are you glaring at KooKoo like that?” Jay's voice whips you out of your (very much one-sided) staring contest with the plush keychain, as it hangs from Heeseung's bag above your head.

He grunts softly as he places his own bag overhead, before sitting down in the seat in front of you. “What did that poor ramyeon brand mascot chicken do to you?”

You resume your activity of glaring hotly at the chicken, crossing your arms over your chest. “Why does Heeseung like this guy, and not me?” Jay sighs, giving you an annoyed look. “Heeseung hyung does like you.” You raise an eyebrow at him. “As a friend.” He agrees, pursing his lips. “As a friend.”

You stare at him for a beat longer, before groaning out loud, your hands flying to your hair in frustration. “Ugh, Jay! Why's he so damn oblivious?!” Jay pats your head ruefully, sighing just as loud. “If I knew why, would I not have told you? But honestly... It's kind of impressive because every single gift and anonymous letter you gave him last year flew over his head, even if he did point it out himself that the letters had the exact same handwriting as yours.”

“You'd think he would've figured it out by then,” Jake cuts in, dropping into the seat next to Jay, “but he's denser than a black hole, and certainly just as good at swallowing all signs of your crush on him.”

He twists in his seat to offer you an encouraging smile, raising his fist in support. “But, we're second years now—new school year, new you! Maybe you could finally get it into his head that you're hopelessly in love with him this time around!”

“I am not hopelessly in love with him—ow!” You yelp as Chaewon pinches your cheek, while Beomgyu sings mockingly behind her. “Liar, liar, that chicken will set your pants on fire!” The two of them take the seat across the aisle from you, Jake, and Jay, quickly moving so that other students can also board the bus.

“That's the biggest lie to come out of your mouth that I've ever heard till date,” Chaewon lounges in her window seat, as Beomgyu snickers next to her in the aisle seat. “You have heart eyes even if he just walks past you. I bet you'd say 'yes' even if he asked you to marry him as a joke right now.”

You're about to retort in response to Beomgyu, when the words die on your tongue as Heeseung finally returns from wherever he'd run off to and boards the bus.

He and Jay had always been taller than most of your friend group, but whatever he'd been doing on his vacations with his family over the summer had done him a huge favour—he'd grown a good few inches in height, having to duck to enter the aisle.

He had also filled out in places that you knew he inevitably would, but the sight of the lean muscle and the veins crawling up his forearm are hard to look away from, but somehow, you summon all your willpower to raise your gaze and look at his face instead.

Apparently, that happened to be a worse idea.

His dark hair is tucked away under his grey beanie, a few wisps falling onto his face. Dressed in a dark grey tee and jeans—an outfit you do not remember fitting him so snugly—with his jacket slung over his arm, he looks a little too good, and you feel your mouth go dry at the sight of him.

He grins when he sees your group already settled in, eyes twinkling with mischief, the earring dangling from his ear swishing with every tilt and swivel of his head.

Jake reaches out a hand to close your mouth, muttering a soft “Stop staring” meant only for your ears, as he passes you to dap up Heeseung, who enthusiastically returns the greeting.

“Hello, hello,” he sings, handing the bag of snacks to Jake. “Good to see everyone together again.” Chaewon immediately moves to grab a pack of chocolates from the bag, thanking Heeseung with a satisfied groan. He smiles at the sight, ruffling Jake's hair, before finally sitting down.

Right next to you.

“Hi,” he murmurs, tilting his head with a smile. “What were you upto during the vacations? Apart from playing co-op with me, that is.” You blink, still trying to compute the fact that he's sat next to you. Out of every other seat on the bus.

The scent of vanilla, cardamom and musk hits you as soon as you take a breath, much, much different from the usual scent you associate with Heeseung.

“Did you change your cologne?” The question slips out faster than you can stop it, and he stares at you in confusion for a beat, before laughing warmly. “Oh, you noticed? Yeah, I did. It's a gift from my older brother. Is it nice?”

He holds up his wrist for you to smell the scent, and for a moment, you feel like Anthony Bridgerton catching the scent of lilies from Kate Sharma in front of an unamused Lady Danbury—except Lady Danbury happens to be all of your friends, who are staring at you with amused smiles, and your Kate happened to be a 6'0” teenager named Lee Heeseung.

“It's... It smells really good,” you croak out, leaning back in your seat, biting your cheek to stop the words “But only because it's you wearing it” slip out of your mouth. Heeseung gives you a bright smile, shuffling back into the leather of his seat, long legs stretching over in the space in the front to get comfortable. “I'm really glad you liked it,” he admits with the barest of smiles, “I've always thought you had really good taste in perfumes, so to hear you say that was such a relief.”

Then like he didn't just turn your world upside down, he goes back to conversing with Jay and Beomgyu, excitedly discussing about the activities at the forest resort this year's class trip was at.

Chaewon catches your eye, giving you a little encouraging raise of her fist and a look that screams 'Hang in there!' before she too joins the animated conversation as soon as zip lines were mentioned, squealing in joy.

You spend one of the four hours it takes to get to the resort staring out of the window. Jake and Beomgyu are already knocked out in their seats, Jay's reading a book, and Chaewon's watching one of her offline movies.

The passing greenery doesn't do much to bring you out of your daze from your earlier interaction with Heeseung, at least not until a gentle tap on your shoulder brings you back from the boundary of your imagination, even if it's just a little.

When you turn around, Heeseung's holding out an earphone for you to take, the other one already in his ear and plugged into his 3DS, with Pokémon X on the title screen. “Thought you looked a little bored,” he murmurs softly, and you're oh so conscious about the close proximity between the two of again.

“Want to do a playthrough with me?” Swallowing down the dryness in your throat, you reach out to take the earbud from his hand, fingers trembling just the slightest when his own brush against yours.

“Yeah, I'd like that,” you cringe on the inside at the way your voice cracks towards the end, but Heeseung either seems to be oblivious to it altogether, or simply pretends not to notice it for your sake, but either way you're grateful for it.

“Great,” he grins, his voice low so as to not disturb the others on the bus, “c'mon, pick your starter!” You blink at him, mildly flabbergasted. “You're really letting me pick the starter?” He nods, that same soft grin on his face. “Well, yeah. I did say that we were going to be playing together—and I already picked the male protagonist, so it only makes sense that you pick the starter in exchange.”

“... Alright, then.” You pick Froakie, and he nods in agreement with your choice. The both of you play together for the next two hours, building a team with three of his picks and two of yours (since you'd chosen the starter already). “Oh, Riolu's evolving into Lucario!” He exclaims, before lowering his voice as a few heads turn in your direction.

Giving them a sheepish smile, he holds up the 3DS to show you your newly evolved Lucario. “All that time brushing and playing really did work out in the end. He's so cute,” Heeseung giggles, watching the Pokémon enjoy the pets and brushing he gives it.

By the last hour of the journey, you've reached Lumiose City and prepping for the Gym Battle with Clemont, when Jake wakes up. “Is it Pokémon X that both of you are playing?” He asks, peering over his seat.

“Yeah, it is. We're playing together,” Heeseung gives him a small smile, waving a hand between the two of you, “we're at the fifth Gym in Lumiose City now.”

Jake blinks, nodding his head slowly as he settles back into his seat. “That's... remarkably fast,” he comments, and Heeseung gives him a proud grin, nudging you with his elbow. “Guess we just make a great team together then, don't we?”

“Yeah,” you laugh, bumping your shoulder against his gently, “we definitely do.”

Just... not in the way you wanted to be together.

It's mid afternoon by the time the bus arrives at the resort. Everyone is eager to get off the bus and explore their new surroundings, despite the way the teachers try to herd all the students together for a headcount.

Jay comes to stand next to you, his bag slung over his shoulder and a hand over his eyes to block out the sun. “You looked like you were having fun earlier,” he leans closer to you, “any progress with him?”

You whisper back just as low. “Apart from the one I made on the game? Zero. Still the same old Heeseung, even if he looks too good to be real now.”

Jay huffs out a chuckle, patting your head. “You'll get there... eventually. Hang in there—but I have to warn you, his growth spurt over the summer seems to have made the other girls bolder. Be careful, is all I'm saying.”

You sigh sufferingly, watching the way the other girls in your year giggle and eye Heeseung, shy flushes colouring their skin—not that you'd blame them for doing so—but it's frustrating all the same. Would you have had a chance if you weren't his friend? You're not sure if you want to know the answer to that.

The sound of Mr Han's whistle draws you out of your daze, as Chaewon comes to stand on your other side. “I'll partner with Sakura for the game,” she whispers conspiratorily to you, “so make sure to partner up with Heeseung, okay?”

You stare blankly at her, unsure of what she was talking about. “Uh... Quick question, what game are we talking about?” She facepalms, sighing out loud. “The one that Mr Han announced, and the one you clearly didn't listen to. Just... Just go find Heeseung before someone else does.”

She leaves to find Sakura before you can reply, and you stare the empty space she was occupying moments earlier, before tiredly rubbing your temples.

“I'm not strong enough for this,” you sigh, before trudging over to where Heeseung stood by a tree in the shade. “Hey, Heeseung,” you come to a stop by him, and he looks up from his phone. “Want to partner up for the game?”

“Yeah!” He pockets his phone, stretching all his long limbs, before stepping into the sun. “We'll do great at the scavenger hunt, I'm sure.” Oh, so that was the game.

“Come on,” he holds a hand out for you to take, and for a moment, you're not sure if it's the sun that's brighter, or his smile. “Let's go before we lose our shot at winning.”

You mirror his expression, taking hold of his hand as he walks you over to the table by the teachers, taking the map and the basket with his free hand, before finally heading into the woods together.

Sorry to the others, but there's no way you're letting them win. Especially not since Heeseung happened to be your game partner.

Beomgyu's offended shrieks happen to be absolute music to your ears.

“Who allowed the two of you to be partners in the first place?!” He groans dramatically, pointing at the rather full basket in your arms. “You've got like three quarters of the items in there! This has to be cheating!” He turns to Mr Han, stomping his foot. “This is cheating, right?!”

The older man only sighs, as if already exhausted by everything going on around him. “No, Beomgyu, it's not cheating if they found them fairly.”

“But—but,” Beomgyu sputters, greatly offended. “They had an unfair adavantage, sir!” Mr Han sighs louder. “And what would said unfair advantage be, Beomgyu?”

“They,” he points accusatorily at you and Heeseung, speaking with his entire chest so that everyone can hear, “have an incredibly good chemistry! What are the rest of us supposed to do to beat synergy like that, huh?!”

You roll your eyes as Heeseung snickers softly, while the other students begin to giggle and laugh at Beomgyu's “accusation.” Mr Han tips his head back, pinching his brows for a moment to compose himself, before turning back to your offended friend. “So let me get this straight... Their unfair advantage is that they're good teammates?” Beomgyu nods solemnly. “Incredibly good teammates.”

The teacher stares blankly at him for a beat, before pointing to the pathway rounding the large central garden. “10 laps around the garden for wasting my time, Choi Beomgyu. Don't complain, or I'll double them.”

Beomgyu gapes at him, somehow more offended if possible, before groaning as he heads off to start his laps. “Thanks for making me do exercise on a class trip, you two,” he glares at the two of you and Heeseung pats him on the back as he passes by. “You're welcome. I'll save you some chicken for dinner.”

“You better!” Beomgyu yells over his shoulder, before finally disappearing around the corner. You share a laugh with Heeseung, who shrugs innocently. “Well, he isn't wrong. We do make a good team. It's hard to beat something like what we have.” You sigh, willing your heart to calm down from the fast pace it had set as soon as the last part of his sentence left his mouth.

Get yourself together. That's not what he meant, dumb dumb.

“Mhm,” you hum, walking next to him on the way to the cafeteria. “That's good, isn't it?” He laughs airily, tilting his head, his skin glowing under the incandescent lights of the resort. “Of course it is! Very rarely do I ever find a player two as good as you are.”

Does he ever realise how easy it is to misinterpret his words? You don't think he does. But the compliment has you beaming, and you grin widely at him. “Yeah, where else would you find a player two like me?” You pat your bicep, teasing him. “Nobody else would be willing to carry you the way I do.”

He snorts, holding the door to the dining hall open for you. “Sure, darling, sure. Let's leave it at that.”

You nearly kiss the floor at the endearment, and he reaches a hand out to steady you. “Hey, easy there. Careful—did you get hurt?” You stare up at him, wide eyed and breathless. He looks down at you, his brows furrowed in concern as his eyes rove over you for any injuries. “What happened there? You were walking fine just a moment ago.”

You blink blankly, unable to find your voice for a few seconds, before finally speaking up. “Uh, it... it was the ledge! Didn't see it on my way in.” You point to the ledge in the doorway, and he sighs, before flicking your forehead gently. “You need to be less clumsy, you know? Don't be a liability to yourself like that.”

“Yeah, I.. I'll keep that in mind,” you nod, and he pats your head, his hand large and warm. “Good,” he smiles, eyes lingering on your face for a bit longer, before he turns away. “Now let's go get some of that chicken before it's emptied.”

You follow along, still in a daze as you join the queue. Jake and Sunghoon, who caught the moment earlier, give you surprised but happy grins, with Sunghoon holding up his phone to show you his notes app—a big, bold 'You're doing great!' typed into it. Shaking your head, you laugh and grab yourself a plate.

By the time you arrive at the table your friends are occupying, you find someone already sitting at the place meant for you. Isn't that Yoona from 2-B?

She's sitting next to Jay—who gives her a forced smile—but her attention is clearly on Heeseung, as she twirls a lock of her hair around her finger and laughs softly at something Sunghoon just said. She's pretty in the sense that you can't look away, and for a moment, you fear the worst. Oh, no. Will Heeseung like her?

But as if allaying all your fears, the Heeseung in front of Yoona is still your Heeseung—and it shows in the way he gives Yoona that same bright, friendly smile. “Oh, that's quite interesting!” He say, running a hand through his hair. “Thanks for letting me know. You're such a good friend, Yoona!”

It takes everything you have to not burst out laughing, as the girl freezes up in her place, the hand in her hair going completely still. “... Uh... What?” Heeseung gives her an innocent tilt of his head, blinking in confusion. “Um, did I get that wrong? Are we... not friends?”

His words have Jake biting his fist, while Sunghoon and Jay's shoulders shake with the force of suppressed laughter, even as they look away. Chaewon's staring up at the ceiling, her lips pursed, desperately trying not to laugh at the way Yoona's smile drops at the word 'friend.'

“Yeah, um, sorry,” Yoona says suddenly, giving Heeseung a tight smile, before hurrying off to her friends. Everyone's still trying to keep their laughter in check even as you sit down, while Heeseung looks adorably confused as ever.

“What... What was that about?” He asks, looking around at everyone's faces. Jake, still snickering, pats his back and wraps an arm around his shoulders. “Never change, Heeseung hyung, never change.”

“... Okay...?” Heeseung mutters, reaching for his dinner. Sunghoon and Jay grin at him, even as Chaewon cackles in the seat next to him. “Oh my god! That needs to happen more often!”

Yes, it should. To people apart from you that is.

But dinner finally gets a move on, and the sound of laughter joins the clattering and scraping of utensils against plates and bowls. Sunghoon and Chaewon argue about who gets to eat the last piece of meat, while Jay and Jake are trying to load more food onto your plate.

Despite the day you've had, everything is as normal as it can be. However, a nagging feeling that you've forgotten something still tugs at the back of your mind...

... and it comes to reveal itself in the next few moments.

“You guys promised me you'd save me some chicken!”

Beomgyu's voice rings out loud in the dining hall, and Mr Han yells at him to go run five more laps for being noisy instead.

Ah, so that's what you had forgotten. What an eventful day it was, indeed.

Graduation is a bittersweet thing, you realise, as you stand shoulder-to-shoulder with your classmates for one last class picture.

It's odd, to say the least—while you knew that these people, who you've laughed and cried with for the past three years would eventually part ways with you, it still feels rather odd to experience it happen in real time.

Your gaze drifts down the line, before coming to a stop at the spot where Heeseung stands in the second line. He looks rather radiant in his graduation gown, even if his hair doesn't allow the cap to sit correctly on his head.

Jay and Sunghoon are on either side of him, their faces bright but laced with the slightest amounts of nostalgia. “It's so weird, right?” Jake vocalises your thoughts out loud, and you turn to face him. “I still can't believe it's all coming to an end.”

“Yeah,” you give him a smile, placing your hand in his, as he helps you down from the step ladder. “I knew it was coming, but it all feels unreal. I think I'll still wake up tomorrow morning, panicking that I overslept and ran late for school.”

Jake laughs at that, the sound rich and warm, and he wraps an arm around your shoulders to lead you over to where the rest of your friend group is gathered. “I think I'll be in the same boat,” he chuckles, “but hey, that's why we're friends, right?”

... Just friends. That's how it's still ending.

“Yeah,” you come to a halt, grinning at him. “That's exactly why we're friends.” Jake exhales, looking up at the sky—it's a bright, sunny day. Would it have felt different if it had rained instead?

He turns to you again, and purses his lips as unshed tears shine in his eyes. “I'm gonna miss you. So, so, much.” You chuckle at that—though it slips out more a sob of your own than a laugh.

“Don't say that, you idiot. There's still a chance we could end up at the same university.” If things align, that is. He lets out a watery laugh, wiping his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I know. But it just won't be the same, you know what I mean?”

“I know,” you breathe out, “but you'll still be Jake, and I'll still be me—just that we'll be learning to be new versions of ourselves.” Jake pulls you into a hug, patting your head. “I'll kick Heeseung hyung if he doesn't come to his senses soon, alright?” You roll your eyes in fond annoyance, but hold onto him tighter. “Violence doesn't suit you all that much, Sim Jaeyun.”

He pulls away with a giggle, eyes soft and hands warm. “I'm only letting you go today because it's graduation day, and I don't want you tripping on your gown. You're free game tomorrow.”

Sunghoon's voice draws your attention away, and you look to see him standing at the other end of the ground, waving at the both of you. “Oi! Come over here, you two! Some of us have hugs to give as well!”

Behind him stand Jay and Heeseung, who seem to be taking in the sight of your high school for the last time as students. Your gaze runs over Heeseung, watching the way his smile turns a little wistful, as he speaks in hushed tones to Jay.

When he turns his head, he catches sight of you and Jake, and waves the two of you over just as Sunghooon had done. “Over here!” You share one last look with Jake, before both of you make your way over to the rest.

As soon as you're in arm's reach, Sunghoon pulls you into a bear hug, lifting you off of the ground as you shriek. “Oh, I'm definitely going to miss annoying you,” he sighs, placing you back down.

“Please tell me we'll be in the same university, yeah?” You give him a wry smile, patting his arm. “... Hopefully we will, Hoonie. I'll really miss you too.”

If only your acceptance letter would arrive faster.

Jay's the next one to hug you, squeezing you so tight your breath escapes you. “Heeseung hyung will not hear the end of it from me if he fumbles you,” he mutters into your hair, “that guy better come to his senses, and fast.”

You snicker, bumping your shoulder with his. “Then that wouldn't be our Heeseung anymore, would it?” Jay laughs freely, a twinkle of mirth in his eyes. “No, he wouldn't really be our Heeseung hyung,” Jay grins, before stepping away from you to hug Jake.

Finally, you come face to face with the boy who's occupied your mind 24/7 for the past three years, with his gentle demeanour, slight mischievous streak and attentiveness like no other.

A giggle's already slipping past your lips before you even take the first step towards him, and Heeseung tilts his head, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth as he watches you. “Are you really that happy to see me?”

“Of course,” you beam, wrapping your arms around him. “Who wouldn't miss the Lee Heeseung?” He shakes his head at your reply, but you catch sight of the grin he's trying to hide.

“You're impossible,” he playfully complains, “what will I ever do without you?” You pull back, reaching out to pinch his cheeks as he laughs warmly. “Probably failing at your games because I'm the one carrying you every time.”

He rolls his eyes in faux annoyance, pinching your own cheeks in retaliation. “If that's what helps you sleep better at night, then keep telling yourself that.” You gasp loudly, mildly offended. “Excuse me, Mr Lee?” He snickers, flicking your forehead gently. “Excused. Do you need a permission slip with that?”

You smack his arm, and he laughs louder, before pulling you into an one armed hug. “Okay, okay, I'm sorry. That was too much, wasn't it?” You huff, shaking your head at him. “You're lucky I like you.”

Heeseung's grin softens into something fond, as he adjusts the cap on your head. “Yeah,” he breathes, “that I am. Who else would tolerate me, if not you?”

Ah, it's all so unfair to your poor, poor heart. Why did he have to be so likable?

“Oi! Gather around, you peasants!” Beomgyu's smug yell brings you out of your head, and you turn your head in unison with the others to see him and Chaewon walking over with pleased smiles.

“Says the one who dresses like he's homeless,” Heeseung snickers, an arm still wrapped around your shoulders. Jake and Sunghoon nearly spit out their water, while Jay leans against a tree, thoroughly amused.

“I'm willing to look past that because it's graduation day, Heeseung,” Beomgyu sticks his index finger out in Heeseung's direction, before turning to face everyone with a dramatic flourish of his graduation gown. “But rejoice, my subjects, for I come as the bearer of good news!”

You raise an eyebrow as he suddenly points at you, while Chaewon's already stepping back to start filming with her phone. “You,” Beomgyu snaps his fingers at you, “step forward.”

Suppressing a sigh at your friend's antics, you step forward and into the center of the loose circle your friends have formed. Crossing your arms over your chest, you narrow your eyes at Beomgyu in a suspicious glance. “... What's all this about?”

He pulls out an envelope from his pocket, and presents it to you with an astounding display of grace he doesn't usually have. “For you, my lady.”

Chaewon's still filming as you take the envelope from him, while Jake, Jay, and Sunghoon step closer, their nosy selves clearly wanting to know what's going on.

You flip it over, and find the envelope to be addressed to you, with your name written in elegant cursive, and the sender being a DU. A little spark of anticipation begins to light up in your mind at the letters, and you carefully pull it open, despite the way your fingers are trembling.

It doesn't take you more than a minute to read through the contents, but the tears fall faster than you get them to stop. When you look up, you find Beomgyu looking back at you, a wide grin on his face.

“Well?” He raises an eyebrow, already stepping forward to pull you into a hug. “Care to share the good news with the class, my lady?”

You sob out a laugh, burying your face into his chest. “I got in,” you croak out in between sobs, “I got into Decelis!”

Everything is silent for a moment, your soft sniffles being the only sounds you hear. Then, a pair of arms wrap around both you and Beomgyu, as Heeseung's cologne wraps around you like a hug within a hug.

Chaewon—having stopped filming now—wiggles her way in to hold you close, with Jake following right after. Jay and Sunghoon are the last ones to join the group hug, but their embraces don't feel any less warmer as the others'.

“You did it,” Heeseung laughs, his breath tickling the hair at your nape. “You're coming to Decelis!”

Decelis. You'd be there with everyone. With Jake, Jay, Sunghoon, Beomgyu, and Chaewon.

Most importantly, with Heeseung.

“We're all going to be together at Decelis,” Jake and Sunghoon cheer, “we're all going to Decelis together!” You wipe the tears at the corners of your eyes, grinning breathlessly. “Yeah, we're going together. Told you guys that you wouldn't get rid of me that easily.” Jay gives you a proud smile, as he ruffles your hair. “As if we'd want it any other way, dumbass.”

You turn to Heeseung, holding out the letter for him to see. The words 'ACCEPTANCE INTO THE COMPUTER SCIENCE DEPARTMENT AT DECELIS UNIVERSITY' stand out against the paper, and he barely reads it, before crushing you into another hug, laughing excitedly. “We're going to be classmates?! Oh, I couldn't have asked for a better graduation gift!”

Mrs Park calls all of you over for another group picture, and you stand with everyone, just like earlier. But the grin on your face is brighter, and your laughter happier, as you pose and play around for the picture with your friends.

You truly couldn't have asked for a better graduation gift—seems like sunny days were quite nice, after all.

ᯤ ACT TWO: SYNTAX DISRUPTION IN ACTION

The sound of your forehead meeting the marble counter is rather loud, echoing in the room.

“Ugh,” you groan, turning your head to stare at Jo, who only blinks in mild confusion at your (mildly) drunken ranting. “Jojo, why is life so hard?”

His eyes dart around the place, looking for any sign of Fuma, who'd left to get more post alcohol drinks, before turning back to you. “Hey,” he smiles softly, patting the side of your head. “It'll all get better. Hang in there, hm?”

“Hanging in there is all I've been doing, and I've been doing that upside down,” you sigh, pulling the nearly empty bottle of beer closer to yourself. “If I hang in there any longer, I'm going to get dizzy and fall.”

Jo purses his lips, unsure of what to say to make you feel better, and continues to pat your head instead. “Do you...” He pauses, shifting in his seat for a bit, before continuing. “Do you want to see some videos of Mint playing to cheer up?”

You blink up at him, feeling a mixture of amusement, confusion, and fondness at your friend's offer. Was Jo seriously offering you videos of his cat to cheer you up? Yes, yes, he was.

“You know what,” you sit up, and scoot your seat closer to his. “Show me. Show me the baby, Jo.” Jo, just like any other cat owner when asked about their furbaby, lights up at your answer, and immediately pulls out his phone from his pocket to show you his favourite pictures and videos of Mint.

“Here,” he holds his phone up for you to see better, having found a video after scrolling down the photo album dedicated to Mint for a bit. “This was Mint's first time trying catnip. She almost ran into a door, you know?”

You're giggling over a few more videos, when Fuma comes back, his hands filled with bottles of cold drinks. “Oh!” He exclaims, his eyes softening along with his smile, as he offers you a bottle of cold lemonade.

“Good to see you feeling better. What did Jo over here,” he teasingly nudges Jo with his shoulder, “tell you that brightened you up immediately?” Jo shakes his head shyly, taking his bottle of watermelon juice from Fuma. “Oh, I just showed her some old videos of Mint's, that's all.”

“Oh, Mint. I miss her,” Fuma sighs playfully, “when are you bringing her over again?” Jo gives him a small smile, as he taps his fingers against the counter. “... Maybe this weekend,” he hums thoughtfully. “I still have to take her to her yearly checkup.”

Fuma nods in understanding, leaning back in his seat as he sips on his mocktail. “Let me know when you bring her over—I'll be there right away.” Jo laughs, the sound rich and warm, as he nods his head in agreement.

“Hello, my dear subjects!” Beomgyu's voice echoes loudly behind you, and you turn around to see him grinning deviously at you. “Gyu, I will throw this bottle at your head if you don't stop calling me your subject, I swear.”

He only laughs, sliding into the chair next to you, wrapping an arm around you (while dodging the attempts you make at shoving him off of his seat) and giving fist bumps to Fuma and Jo. “All you do is swear, sweetheart, but you never act on it. I'd never trust you to be a witness, you know? You'd be committing perjury the second they put you on that stand.”

Before you can hit him for that comment, someone else does it for you and Beomgyu yelps loudly as Chaewon comes to stand next to him, her hands on her hips. “I told you to wait for me, you idiot, not leave me behind in the car.”

She hits his arm next, clearly having overheard his comment to you. “And also, she wouldn't be the one most likely committing perjury—that's a title entirely for Fuma, given how easily he lies.”

Jo snorts into his drink, his shoulders shaking with laughter even as he turns away. Fuma, however, merely raises an eyebrow at Chaewon, a teasing smirk already pulling at the corners of his lips. “I do it for the love of the game—and that's something you don't understand.” Chaewon rolls her eyes, kicking his foot lightly. “No, you just like to lie. How are you going to be teaching kindergarteners with that kind of a tongue, huh?”

“Chae, he'll definitely need to be lying in kindergarten,” you snicker, watching as Fuma gives you a surprised look for coming to his defence, “he's going to have to lie to all of them and tell them Santa Claus is real.” Fuma rolls his eyes, smacking your arm gently. “I bring you lemonade, and this is how you repay me? Rude.”

Beomgyu cuts in, shaking a bottle of pineapple juice he'd stolen from Fuma's stash, snorting at his reply. “Toddlers are the most unintentionally rude people you'll ever meet, you know? She's just training you for that.”

You successfully manage to shove him off this time, and he goes down to the floor dramatically. “Traitor! I trusted you, and you turn on me like this?!” You stick your tongue out at him, stealing his seat for Chaewon instead. “That's for indirectly calling me a toddler.”

Chaewon laughs, snapping more pictures of Beomgyu's ungraceful descent to the floor, before sending it to Megan, who immediately makes a video call, solely to laugh at Beomgyu. “He looks like a mangled pretzel!” She cackles, her gleeful voice cutting through the calm music of the lounge. “Oh, now he's a starfish!”

“I'm eating every single pack of Haribo gummies I come across solely because of that.” Beomgyu grumbles, grabbing the phone from Chaewon to glare at Megan's face through the screen.

She only guffaws louder, flipping the camera to show him the box of 37+ bags of Haribo gummies sitting in her room. “I'm already prepared! You're not overtaking me as their number one consumer!”

“Megan,” you pull the phone away from Beomgyu, just as he flips Megan off, “we miss you here!” She laughs, blowing kisses through the phone. “I miss all of you as well—except Beomgyu, that is—but you know I had to give my hundred percent for this upcoming dance competition!”

Fuma leans over your shoulder, grinning mischievously at her. “Since you've missed so many of our hangouts, don't come back unless you win, alright? We're not going to remain friends otherwise.” You roll your eyes, pushing Fuma's face away. “Ignore him,” you huff, “and anyways, the boys were asking when you'd be back from the competition.”

Megan's voice goes out of range, and all you see is the white ceiling of her hotel room for a bit as she shifts places, before her face comes back into focus. “Tell Riki I'll be back soon! I miss dancing with him and Jake! How are Jay, Heeseung and Sunghoon doing without me around?”

Jo laughs softly, waving at her. “Terrible, I'd say. Nobody's got kicked out of MariCafé for staying too long these past few days. Jay's been drinking the healthier stuff, too.”

“I'll change that when I get back,” she grins, raising a can of an overly sweet, highly caffeinated energy drink. “They're not getting away that easily.”

Chaewon giggles, finally taking her phone back after it's been passed around. “Hurry back here, then. Jake and Jay might just turn green instead with the amount of vegetables Sunghoon's been forcing them to eat.”

Megan grins widely, before turning her attention back to you. “So Miss Lovergirl, what plan do you have next to woo your oblivious little darling beau?” You roll your eyes at her question, sighing softly. “Megan...”

Fuma sets his drink down, gulping down whatever of it he had in his mouth as he waves his index finger in the air. “No, she's so right for bringing it up,” he grins mischievously, giving Beomgyu a high five. “I've never seen someone so dedicated to a crush, and I've never seen someone so oblivious either. You're both truly a match made in heaven.”

You sigh even louder at his words. Fuma, Jo, and Megan were recent additions to your friend group, having joined when you started university—but they blended in with all your friends like they'd always been there from the start, even if Jo didn't speak more than four sentences a day (that you'd heard be said out loud, that is—you love the guy, but he could definitely speak up more in your opinion).

Just like the rest of your friends, they'd become rather acutely aware of your very obvious crush on Heeseung, and Heeseung's amazingly annoying ability to be oblivious to every attempt at flirting you make—Fuma especially found great amusement in your troubles, even if he did pretend to be annoyed when helping you plan for whatever new thing you were going to do next.

“Come on, Lovergirl, don't leave me hanging,” Megan's voice crackling through the speakers on Chaewon's phone brings you back out of your daze, and you sigh for what seems like the hundredth time that night. “I don't have any new plans, Megan.” Fuma and Jo blink in sync, sitting up straighter in their seats. Chaewon narrows her eyes at you, and Beomgyu stops speaking altogether.

You shift in your seat, mildly unsettled by the sudden change in your friends' energies. “Wait, hold on. What do you mean by that? What do you mean when you say “I have no plans”? What's going on? Is this a joke?”

Rolling your shoulders, you shake your head. “It's not a joke. I...” You pause, mulling the words over on your tongue. The thought had slowly wormed itself home in your head since the past few months, digging in deeper with every failed attempt. How long could you truly keep this up for? It's already been four years, and nothing has changed.

Sighing deeply once more, you exhale softly and say the thoughts plaguing your head for the last few months out loud. “I... I think I'll give up on pursuing Heeseung.”

There's a momentary pause, where no one—not even Beomgyu, and not many things could get him to shut up like this—speaks out loud, the only sounds you hear being everybody's breathing, and your own heartbeat, pounding loud in your ears.

Then, your friends screech in shocking sync (including Megan on the phone, and you swear this is the loudest you've heard Jo talk since the time you became friends with him), drawing the attention of nearly half of the lounge. “WHAT?!”

You wince at the loud sound, before hissing at them. “Quiet,” you glare at them, rubbing your ears. “Do you want to disturb everyone else?” They give sheepish nods and smiles to the other patrons, before turning back to you, an almost maniacal gleam in their eyes as they whisper over one another.

“What do you mean you're giving up on Heeseung?” “Hey, come on. I didn't raise a quitter!” “Any specific reason as to why you decided to quit now after four years, when you could've done it sooner?” “Babygirl, you're literally our friend group's Romeo, why would you give up on your Juliet like that?!” “Don't you dare quit when I'm already this emotionally invested in this hypothetical romantic relationship!”

Pushing away Fuma and Beomgyu's inquisitive faces, you make breathing room for yourself. “God, one at a time! And I'm tired! That's why I'm quitting!” Jo opens his mouth as if to say something, but closes it right after. “But—but,” Chaewon stammers, rubbing her temples, already beginning to look stressed. “You're still in love with him! Your feelings won't change even if you give up on him.”

Before you can answer her, three more faces appear next to Megan's on the phone screen, as it becomes a group video call instead. You figure someone must've dialed Jake, Jay, and Sunghoon the moment you'd told your friends that you were quitting—you'd be willing to put your bets on Beomgyu and Megan.

“Hey, what's going on?” Jay's voice comes in first, thick with concern. “Are you alright? What lead to this?” Jake's next, his brows furrowed in confusion. “Come on, you gotta talk to us. Tell us how you're feeling—you can't keep it bottled up like and then drop a bomb on us like this!” Sunghoon simply shakes his head, his expression thoughtful. “I honestly didn't think you'd stick it out this long. If I were you, I would've quit a long time ago.”

You make a face at his answer, glaring at him. “Are you trying to comfort me, or you trying to insult me, Sunghoon?” He flashes you a fanged grin, not entirely apologetic about his comments. “Let's say it's 50-50.”

Jay and Fuma cut in, blinking at you. “Are you serious about this?” Fuma starts, as Jay completes for him. “Because you can't go back from whatever you're thinking of doing.” Jake isn't all that helpful either, pointing out the obvious to you. “He'll never know that you like him, and are you really okay with that?”

No, in fact, you were not okay with that fact. But years and years of pining after an oblivious Heeseung had exhausted you more than you thought.

“I refuse!” Beomgyu finally speaks up again, having found his voice. “I did not sit through hours of you rambling about how much you like my best friend back in high school, just for you to give up now! I refuse your refusal to pursue Heeseung! You're closer than you think—and you haven't tried out everything else yet, have you?” Jo reaches out to try and get him to stop, muttering a soft “Beomgyu, wait, stop,” but he refuses to listen, staring up at you instead.

Seemingly emboldened by his declaration, Chaewon throws in her two cents on the matter as well. “He's right! You haven't truly tried everything out, have you? You've never actually confessed to him!”

You scowl at her, shifting to be more defensive. “And I never will! I don't want to make things awkward between us!” Fuma and Sunghoon face palm, groaning out loud. Jake and Jo sigh in exhaustion, shaking their heads, while Megan looks lost in thought.

Jay stares at you for a bit, before nodding his head. “Well, if that's your choice, then we respect it—” Megan's voice crackles in, interrupting him as she speaks. “Wait. Wait. Wait. I have an idea.”

Sunghoon deadpans at her words. “I love you, but I wouldn't trust your ideas even if I were to die the next minute, Megan.” She sticks her tongue out in retaliation, as Jake snickers, before continuing to pitch her idea. “Nobody said you had to be the one to confess, you know?”

You stare at the screen in confusion, blinking at her. “Wha... What do you mean? I don't understand.” Chaewon, however, does seem to understand what Megan meant, clapping her hands in excitement. “Oh my god! That could totally work!”

Megan squeals, nodding animatedly. “I know, right?! We can give this as a last shot!” The rest of you stare at the two of them in confusion, expecting a proper explanation.

“Um...” Fuma glances between the two women, relaxing in his seat again. “So, like, an explanation would be quite nice.” Chaewon clears her throat, before turning back to the rest of you. “Okay, so what we were thinking is that....” Megan joins in towards the end, her expression expectant. “You could have someone confess to you instead!”

“What?!” You exclaim, “why on earth would I do that?!” Megan looks at you like you're a bit slow, shaking her head. “To see if he truly has no feelings for you, duh!” Chaewon grins deviously at you, rubbing her hands in mischief. “Come on, think about it. We've tried all sorts of things—but we've never tried to make him jealous, have we? If someone else confesses to you, we can gauge his true level of interest.”

Jay hums, mulling it over in his head. “... It could work,” he says finally, as Megan and Chaewon cheer now that they have the childhood friend's approval, “we're all aware that the only way Heeseung hyung registers a romantic relationship is if he sees them doing couple stuff in front of him. So.. yeah, it might work.”

“But who would do the confessing?” Jake questions, on board with the idea, but clearly having doubts about it's execution. “If it's one of us, there's no way Heeseung hyung would believe it—and I wouldn't want to be confessing, either. I've never seen you as anything other a mildly annoying sister—confessing would feel like committing incest in theory.” He shudders, and Sunghoon mirrors him.

“You could've just said that you didn't want to confess to me,” you grumble, “there was no need for all those paragraphs.” Jo looks rather uncomfortable at the thought of “confessing” to a close friend as well, when Beomgyu speaks up.

“I know just the person for this,” he breathes out, and you're very much unsettled at the manic look in his eyes. “He'll do anything if it means he can get acting practice in—he'll definitely agree to this!”

Fuma blinks, before letting out a soft 'aah' in recognition. Smirking, he goes back to sipping on his mocktail. “If it's that person whom you're talking about, then I'm sure that it'll be a success. He'll be great at this 'fake boyfriend' thing.”

“No, no, no, no, not boyfriend!” Megan immediately protests, crossing her arms into an 'X' over her chest. “We don't want him to think she's completely off the market and lose any possible interest that he might've had!”

Chaewon agrees, shaking her head. “It's at the most a few dates to gauge his interest! We definitely do not want to be scaring him off instead!” The boys all 'Ooh' and 'Aah' in understanding, nodding their heads. “That can be arranged,” Beomgyu hums, “Yeonjun hyung will agree as long as he can practice his acting.”

“You mean he'll agree because he can be part of something interesting,” Fuma snorts, and Beomgyu grins widely. “Well, that too. Everything he does is for the love of the game.” Everyone turns to you again, their expressions expectant and hopeful. “Soooo....” Chaewon drawls, rubbing your arm. “Wanna give it a shot?”

You stare blankly at all of them, your gaze running from Chaewon to Jo to Fuma, Fuma to Beomgyu, Beomgyu to the phone in Chaewon's hand with Megan, Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon on the screen, and then finally back to Chaewon again, before sighing in exhaustion.

You hate how convincing your friends can be sometimes, but you hate the fact that you're intrigued by their idea even more.

“... Fine,” you huff, rolling your eyes. “I'll give it a shot. But, if it doesn't work out, I'm strangling both Chaewon and Megan.” Your friends cheer like they've won the World Cup at your response. Beomgyu and Fuma even do a little celebratory dance number, as Jake, Jay, and Sunghoon are already beginning to discuss plans with Megan and Chaewon.

Jo's the one who pulls you into a warm, comforting side hug, resting his head on top of yours, wrapping you into his denim jacket. “Thank you for being brave,” he simply says, the words so soft that you almost miss them. “We're all very proud of you.”

You say nothing in response, but the smile tugging at the corner of your lips speaks more than words would do at the moment for him.

He shares your grin, and the two of you settle back on your seats with your drinks to watch the chaos the rest of your friends are already planning to instigate in your love life.

Oh, these idiots truly did love you. Hopefully this idea really did turn out to be the one that works out.

Choi Yeonjun, in the nicest way possible, is the living embodiment of the word “extra.”

You were supposed to meet him at MariCafé on a Friday evening at 6:30 PM, along with Beomgyu (who was friends with Yeonjun, since they were in the same major). Yeonjun showed up at exactly 6:32, flipping his beach blond hair back, and still wearing sunglasses for some reason, despite it being late evening.

Dressed in a white button up, medium wash jeans, and black boots with a brown trench coat, he finishes the look with a red scarf around his neck that matches the red beret on his head.

He lights up when he spots Beomgyu waving him over from your booth in the back, and walks over leisurely, taking his time to greet the staff.

Flashing a charming grin at the barista, he twirls and spins around the café like he's always belonged there. He stops midway to speak with a waitress—an older woman, probably in her 50s—chatting her up briefly, before laughing as she tells him something in return (You only catch the sweetened drawl of “Honey!” she makes towards the end of the conversation, in the same way that all sweet older women do). People pause their conversations to stare at him as he passes them by, and you shrink further into your seat.

Holding onto your iced tea like a shield, you lean in to whisper to Beomgyu. “Is... Is he always like this?” He simply sighs, looking resigned to his fate. “Yes. He's always been this way. He'll actually combust if he doesn't get attention from more than three people at a time.”

You blink, continuing to observe the man who's supposed to play the Romeo to your Juliet for the next few days, watching the way he effortlessly commands and revels in the attention he gets. “... Drama and theatre are perfect for him.”

“Talk about a match made in heaven,” Beomgyu snorts, sipping on his strawberry frappe. “... What's with the sunglasses?” You whisper again, still unable to take your eyes off of Yeonjun. “That's part of his brand.”

“His brand's being the human equivalent of a disco ball?” Beomgyu nearly chokes on his drink, and coughs into his arm, before turning back to you. “His brand's being Yeonjun hyung,” he corrects, like that's supposed to explain anything to you. It does not.

When Yeonjun finally makes his way over to your table, he pushes his glasses up to grin widely at your friend. “Beomgyu-ah! Come here!” He wraps Beomgyu into an affectionate hug, attempting to kiss his cheek, but the younger man stubbornly refuses to accept it, eventually pushing Yeonjun's face away using both hands. “Agh, Yeonjun hyung, no!” Yeonjun laughs mirthfully, finally letting go of Beomgyu to face you next.

“Oh, and you must be the lovely mademoiselle I'm supposed to play the lover of.” He gives you a lopsided grin, settling down next to you. Much in contrast to your flustered countenance, he's completely relaxed and at ease, as he takes your free hand from where it's resting on your lap, and places a dramatic kiss on your knuckles. “The name's Choi Yeonjun. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

You stammer out your name in return, and Yeonjun says it out loud a few times, as if testing the way it sounds on his tongue. “Pretty name for a pretty mademoiselle,” he grins, having found the way he wanted it to sound—and it surely does sound like an actual, affectionate lover speaking to you.

Beomgyu groans out loud, rubbing his temples. “Hyung, you're not French. Please stop flirting with my friend right in front of my precious strawberry frappe.”

“Sorry, sorry. I was trying to test out a few characters to see which would work best.” Yeonjun laughs, letting go of your hand to lean back into his seat. “Soooo... this is all to woo a beau with a chronic case of insufferable obliviousness, huh?”

You sigh, nodding your head. “Sounds about right. A case of chronic obliviousitis.” Yeonjun's smile grows wider at your answer, and he claps his hands in delight. “Oh, I quite like you already! So, how long have you been attempting to woo him, and how long has he remained blissfully ignorant of your efforts?”

“Four years now, right from first year of high school,” Beomgyu answers for you, stealing some of your tiramisu. “Four... Four years?” Yeonjun blinks in shock and surprise, and you feel yourself wanting to become one with either the ground, table or couch the longer his silence lasts. Oh, this was a bad, bad idea! Beomgyu seems rather comfortable, having already eaten half of your tiramisu because you haven't stopped him yet.

“This will not do!” Yeonjun snaps his fingers loudly, causing Beomgyu to choke on his bite of the stolen dessert. Ignoring your friend, the older man turns to you, holding both your hands in his rather tightly.

His eyes blaze with a passion that didn't exist there a few minutes earlier, and the determined set of his jaw tells you that you're not getting out of this predicament your friends have shoved you into rather easily. “I promise you, sweetheart, that I'll make sure to put on a performance that shall match the strength of your passion for this man for the past four years! Fear not, for I will make him open his eyes to all that he has been blind to for so long!”

Beomgyu chokes on his dessert for a second time, snickering loudly. “Oh, you have your work cut out with Heeseung, I promise you.” Yeonjun simply shakes his head, undeterred. “I'll make it work. Efforts and passion such as yours,” he whips his head back to you, his earrings shaking with the force of the action, “shall not go unnoticed, at least not on my watch!”

His dramatics begin to seem more and more ridiculous by the passing minute, but there's a part of you that you can't deny—the one that feels strangely warm at his declaration; he was a complete stranger to you, yet he immediately recognised the effort you've been putting in for the past four years—and a laugh bubbles out of you.

Maybe this could actually work. No harm in trying, right?

“Okay,” you chuckle, tilting your head at him. “I'll put my trust in you, then.” Yeonjun beams, nodding his head. “Thank you! I'll make your time worth it—my title as “Number One” in the department is at stake here!” He exhales loudly, and pulls out a pen and a book from the inside of his coat, ready to take notes. “Tell me more about this Heeseung guy, both of you. Don't leave out a single detail.”

The two of you spend the next hour explaining Heeseung's personality to Yeonjun, who attentively listens, writing down pages upon pages of notes as he does. “So... He's gentle, he's extremely attentive, kind of obsessed with ramyeon, likes cats, and is painfully dense?”

He summarises Heeseung as a person, clicking his pen to close it as he tucks the book back in. “I think I have a few ideas, but I want to listen to your boundaries first.” You nod, tapping your fingers against the wood. “Um, so I don't think I'm comfortable with kissing and stuff...”

When you trail off, unsure, Yeonjun pats your arm as he flashes you an encouraging smile. “Oh, don't worry. With this guy's personality, stuff like kissing in front of him would only have the opposite effect of what we want. We'll stick to hand holding and mild skinship only—we're trying to sell the nervous energy of two people who are trying to figure out if they're a good match, after all, and not an established couple diving head on.”

You sigh in relief, and sip the last of your drink. “Ugh, it's become warm,” you grimace, and Yeonjun takes note. “Shall I buy you another one? You know, as early practice, and as a gift for our partnership?”

Beomgyu rolls his eyes, kicking him underneath the table, but Yeonjun doesn't even notice it, already beginning to ramble away about possible plans that you could use.

You can't help but laugh at his enthusiasm, and Beomgyu leans in to whisper to you, a smug grin on his face. “See?” He raises a brow at you, “told you he was perfect.” You lean in even closer, watching Yeonjun in his element. “He is, and thank you for helping me out here,” you pause, frowning softly. “There's something else that I'm worried about.”

“What's wrong?” Beomgyu sits straighter, now frowning as well. “Just.... one thing,” you sigh ruefully, and he leans in closer, an eyebrow raised in question, hovering just under your chin. “Which is....?” You flash him a sad smile, before whacking him over the head harshly. “Which is.... My tiramisu that you stole with no shame, Beelzebub incarnate!”

He yelps loudly, as Yeonjun finally notices the commotion between the two of you, cackling loudly. “Give it back!” You grip his collar, and Beomgyu glares at you. “I'm never doing anything for you ever again!”

“I don't care, just get me my tiramisu, you shameless pig!”

“Never! You're never getting it back!”

You get your tiramisu, along with a new conspirator for your schemes. Beomgyu now sports a lump the size of your fist on his head, and Yeonjun's promised to put the plan in motion from Monday. Life is surprisingly good sometimes.

ᯤ ACT THREE: SYNTAX IN TRANSITION

On Monday, Fuma arrives to your usual hangout spot at uni covered in stickers from head to toe.

“What happened to you?” Jake blinks, looking him up and down. “Did you somehow manage to swim into a sticker book or something?” From the corner of your eye, you catch Chaewon quickly taking a picture, hiding her phone before Fuma sees it. “No, the kids happened to me,” Fuma sighs, sitting in between Jay and Sunghoon, taking off his glasses to peel off some of the stickers pasted on the lenses. “They were unusually energetic today.”

The sight of the Hello Kitty and Sanrio stickers in his hair makes you smile, and you reach out to swipe a Chococat one. “I'll take this one, thanks,” you grin at him, while he levels a mildly annoyed glare at you. “Hey! My kids gave those to me, you know?!”

Beomgyu shakes his head, rolling his eyes as Jo laughs softly at Fuma's response. “They have parents. I hope you remember that,” Beomgyu deadpans, dodging the balled up napkin Fuma throws at him. “Of course I remember that! But those kindergarteners are like my kids too!”

Jay pats his back, sliding a bottle of water to him. “Yes, yes, we're aware. You don't shut up about what little Jihoon did in class or what little Hana ate from her lunch box—drink this and calm down, please.” Fuma gives him a side eye, but takes the bottle of water anyways. “I am calm,” he grumbles, sipping on his water. Chaewon snorts at that, blowing her bangs out of her face. “Out of all the lies you've ever said, that's the biggest lie I've ever heard you say till date.”

“That's the most truthful thing I've heard all this morning,” Megan giggles, as she slides into the seat next to Chaewon. “You're not fooling anyone, Fuma.” Jo slides a box of baked goods he'd bought to her, and she lights up. “Joooo! Thank you so much!” He gives her a shy smile, rubbing his nape. The sound of loud bickering coming from the hallway draws your attention, and you turn to find an amusing sight—Sunoo has Jungwon and Riki in a headlock, while the two of them claw and flail at his arms to escape. “Sunoo hyung, let go of me, or I will scream bloody murder!”

As your eyes follow them, you spot Heeseung trailing behind them, a fond smile on his face at their antics. Now where was Yeonjun? Gulping softly to push down the bitter taste of dread in your mouth, you turn back to face the table, and Beomgyu catches your eye. He pulls out his phone to text you, with Sunghoon and Fuma reading the messages over his shoulder nosily. He levels both of them a glare, and pulls his phone closer, huffing softly. “I will smack you both if you do that again.”

[Gyudon]: relax omg. i can see u freeze up from here

[Gyudon]: also trust in yeonjun hyung he wont let u down

[Gyudon]: hes probs just waiting for the perfect opportunity rn

[Gyudon]: and dw the fetuses know too they're not ratting u out to heeseung

So Sunoo, Jungwon, and Riki knew too? Absolutely fantastic. That's three other people to embarrass yourself in front of.

Sighing, you nod and put your phone away, sipping on your orange juice instead. Jake wordlessly reaches out to place a calming hand on your bouncing knee, as the younger trio finally reaches your table. “Oh, is that a box of baked goods from Mari's that I see?” Riki finally pushes Sunoo off, shoving himself in between Jo and Jake to grab a sweet treat. “Just as good as I remember!” Jungwon clicks his tongue, returning the hug Megan gives him. “Riki, calm down a little.” Sunoo rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “The day Riki doesn't reach for a baked treat like it's the Holy Grail is the day we all die.” Then he catches your gaze, and a smile lights up his face as he hugs you.

“You can trust Yeonjun,” he whispers into your ear, “I'm sure Beomgyu and Chaewon have already told you that, right?” Sighing, you pat his head. “I know, I know. Just... kinda worried about how he'll take it.” He squeezes you tighter, muttering a soft “It'll be okay,” before stepping away just as Heeseung arrives to prevent any suspicion. “Heeseung!” Beomgyu, Chaewon, and Megan call out at once, all three of them being awfully cheerful.

Heeseung flashes them a grin, as he settles into the only open seat, which happens to be next to you. His shoulders brush against yours as he moves to get comfortable, shuffling around for a bit till he finds the perfect position. You glance at your watch, keeping track of the time. 10:05... Yeonjun said he'll come at 10:10, so that's five more minutes. This was all really happening. “Hey,” Heeseung's voice draws your attention away, and you turn to find him grinning widely at you. “You've been looking at your watch rather intensely. Are you that eager to get rid of us and head to class already?”

“Of course not,” you snort, stealing some of Jake's watermelon cooler. “I'm just trying to recall if I've missed an assignment or not.” He hums, taking an egg tart from the box, and turns his attention to Fuma. “Nice look, by the way,” he grins, “real high fashion right there, isn't it Sunoo?” Sunoo chuckles in agreement. “Yeah, it is. Might I be able to interview the esteemed designers of your look, Mr Murata?”

Fuma scoffs softly, but the grin he's sporting gives him away. Jungwon immediately comments on it, and the rest of the table—Heeseung included—joins in on the banter, teasing him for being such a softie when it came to the kids he's learning to teach. He doesn't even try to defend himself, only making slightly sarcastic comments whenever Jake and Jay point out that he even treats some of you like toddlers sometimes. “You guys behave like kindergarteners sometimes, I can't help myself.” He shrugs, pointing specifically at Beomgyu and Megan. “These two have zero sense of self-preservation—I know for a fact that you'd end up in jail somehow. Someone has to keep you baby chicks in line, so it might as well be me.”

Beomgyu stares at him, absolutely affronted at the declaration that's been made. He opens his mouth to reply, huffing loudly, when someone who isn't a part of the group at your table clears their throat behind you. It was show time. Licking your dry lips, when you turn back to look at your co-conspirator, your jaw nearly drops to the floor at the sight in front of you.

Standing before you is no longer the human equivalent of a disco ball Choi Yeonjun that you'd seen in the café last Friday, but shuffling awkwardly in his place instead is a much softer version of him—hair brushed down, a pastel orange sweater, khaki pants, and a simple pair of glasses sitting on his nose. “Hi,” he grins bashfully, and you swear you hear Sunoo stuff a donut into Beomgyu's mouth to stop him from laughing in the back. “... Hi,” you echo, shifting to face him better—Heeseung glances between you and Yeonjun multiple times, but you try your best to ignore him to concentrate on your performance instead.

For a moment, you're in awe of the way Yeonjun's able to act so effortlessly—he appears nothing like the flamboyant yet passionate person you'd seen at your last meeting, and if you didn't know any better, you really would've believed him to be just a shy, sweet boy in love. But this is all a performance, and the stakes are high (with the rewards being a Lee Heeseung hopefully becoming your boyfriend)—so you try your best to appear normal, and go along with the script he'd seen you on Saturday.

“... Can I help you?” You ask softly, and for the tiniest of moments, you see a flash of pride in Yeonjun's eyes—before it disappears entirely, and is replaced by a nervous, fond look instead. “I've been seeing you around campus for a while,” he says shyly, extending a cup of your favourite coffee order, “and I just think that you're really pretty.” The rest of your friends—to their credit—act like rent is due, with loud gasps and shocked expressions that almost border on too much.

Yeonjun skillfully ignores them, and continues to hold the cup out for you to take. His fingers brush with yours just the slightest as you do, and you pretend to turn it around to inspect it, before gasping in “surprise” at what you see. “How did you know that this was my favourite?” He shrugs, holding the straps of his backpack tighter. “You always order the same thing when you're at the campus café. It's not that hard to not take notice when you see that—that's how I've known it for a while now.” No, he didn't know until you told him exactly forty eight hours ago, but anything for the act, right?

“That's... That's very sweet of you.” Biting down on your lip makes it seem like you're being shy to an outsider, and it works—because you see Heeseung tense up next to you from the corner of your eye, when in fact, it was all to try and muffle your laughter at how ridiculous this entire situation had begun to seem. Megan and Chaewon's squeals of “Oh, don't you think that they'd look good together?!” and “That's such a cute confession!” don't seem to help either, as Heeseung sits up straighter, his brows furrowed in a frown that's only growing prominent with each passing minute.

Yeonjun doesn't break character even for a minute, as he continues to speak. “Ah, it's nothing. I.. So, uh, I was just wondering if I could take you out sometime? Maybe for lunch, if you're okay with that?” You nod, smiling at him. “Yeah. Yeah, I'd like that.” He brightens up, and grins wider. “Oh, really?! I'll see you around, then!” Then, as if he remembers a crucial detail, he clumsily pulls out his phone from his pocket, and hands it to you. “... You wouldn't mind giving me your number, would you?”

You punch in your digits, and much to your relief, your number is neither saved, nor appears in the recents tab, despite the way the two of you have been communicating. “This is me,” you finally hand it back, and he smiles like an idiot at the sight of it. “I'll text you the details, then. Are you free on Thursday?” You nod, and he pockets the device again. “Alright!” he chirps happily, “I'll see you on Thursday, then! I'd love to stay and talk some more, but I've got a class to run to. Take care!” Then he's off, giggling at his phone, and skipping away in a manner that seems awfully real.

The silence for the next few moments is deafening.

Then, as is wired in his DNA, Choi Beomgyu is the first one to break the silence. “Wow,” he says, and you're reminded why he's a theatre major too, but it takes everything you have not to giggle out loud. “Did we all just see the same thing?” Megan promptly kicks him under the table, as Sunoo shoves another donut into his mouth to muffle his pained yelp. Chaewon immediately grabs your hands, and squeals like she's actually excited for your upcoming “date.”

“I'm coming over after classes end!” She holds up your joined hands, a manic gleam in her eyes. “I'll have to pick out some cute outfits for you, and we still need to do a new set of nails for you—”

Heeseung interrupts her (something he never usually does), his brows knitted in confusion. “I'm sorry, but are we just going to ignore the fact the he said that he's been watching you for a while now?”

Beomgyu laughs good naturedly, but you can detect the slightest undertone of mischief in it. “Heeseung, oh, Heeseung. He's one of my seniors at the department—he's a nice guy, I can assure you.”

Heeseung's brows furrow further, and he sits up straighter in his seat before turning to face you. “You...” He says softly, running a hand through his hair (while the rest of your friends (Riki, especially) watch him with an intensity like they're watching a telenovela unfold right before their eyes), “... are you sure you want to go on that date with him? You're not agreeing because he confessed in public, and you feel pressured to accept it?”

Chaewon lightly pinches your side as she sees the wide grin on your face begin to form, and suppressing the urge to glare at her, you shake your head at Heeseung. “It's not a date, Hee. Not yet.” Riki, finally deciding that he wants to be a part of the fun, begins to add fuel to the little spark that's been lit. “But you want it to be one~” He sing-songs, wrapping an arm around Jake's shoulders. “You want to get your Mr. Right~!”

Jungwon extends the bait a little further, cat-like eyes twinkling with suppressed mirth. “I'd say he's a good fit for you,” he sips on his coffee, “he seems quite respectful.” Heeseung turns to glare sharply at him for that. “Respectful doesn't always mean nice, Jungwon. He could be a completely different person when we're not around.”

Megan throws an arm around Heeseung, while Sunoo takes his other side. “Oh, relax, you worrywart,” she rolls her eyes, as the blond flicks Heeseung's forehead. “She's a big girl, she'll be fine. Besides, didn't Beomgyu already vouch for him?” Sunoo almost lands the bait where it needs to, grinning sharply at Heeseung. “While we all know that Beomgyu is not trustable when it comes to food, we're all surely aware that he's very much trustworthy when it comes to people, right? I'm sure Yeonjun hyung will treat her well.”

Jo, who's been quiet till now, is the one who centers it, laying the last of the traps for Heeseung before the net is tightened. Shouldering his bag, he grabs your hand and gently tugs you to your feet. “Drop me off at my classes, please? I kind of pissed off Harua earlier, and now I need witness protection.” Laughing, you grab your own bag, as you wrap an arm around the taller boy's waist. “Sure, Jojo~ C'mon, let's go before you run late!”

“She's just running to hide how excited she is for her date!” Jay and Sunghoon grin, finally tightening the trap. “You don't have to make excuses for her, Jo!”

You flip them off over your shoulder as Jo giggles next to you, but even then, despite how much you try to ignore it, all you can feel is the weight of Heeseung's stare following you, the feeling only disappearing when you round the corner and end up out of his view.

After dropping Jo off at the Interior Design building, you skip off to class, unable to hide the wide grin on your face—the first time in four years that you've ever drawn out such a reaction from Heeseung, and it makes a little seed of hope germinate in your chest, nourished by the care and effort your friends are putting in for you.

Well, skeptical as you were of this plan, if you play your cards right, it might actually work out in your favour. Good thing you've always loved to play a game, yeah?

You tuck yourself into Yeonjun's side to avoid laughing out loud at the scene around you.

Thursday had been a whirlwind by itself, with Chaewon, Sunoo and Megan carefully coordinating your outfit and makeup for the “Big Day” as they called it (much to Heeseung's not so subtle displeasure, given how he shuffled uncomfortably in his seat every time they said it), but the way Yeonjun had shown up at the CS building—with a large bouquet and an even larger teddy bear—to take you out for your not-quite-actually-a-date “date,” surely must've done something, because you'd never seen Heeseung look that unsure about something before.

And while you have no idea what the rest of the idiots you call your friends must've told him to convince him to do this, you're definitely sure that whatever it actually was—whether just a request or straight up blackmail (you wouldn't put it past Riki and Fuma), did, in fact, work. Because there was Lee Heeseung—in a poor disguise of a scarf and beret, holding up a newspaper to hide his face—sitting exactly two rows behind you at the cat café Yeonjun had brought you to, sipping rather awkwardly at his water and not at all being discreet about the fact that he was sent to monitor your “date.”

“He's so bad at this,” you giggle, and Yeonjun takes the opportunity to wrap his arm around your shoulder. You hear Heeseung audibly choke on his water, and a flush creeps up your neck from the effort of holding in your laughter. “Is he still looking?” Yeonjun grins, making a performance out of showing the cats to you. “Yeah,” you whisper, snickering at the way Heeseung stares with laser-focused intensity at you, but pretends to look interested in his dessert the moment you turn around.

Your partner-in-crime smiles mischievously, before clearing his throat. “Hey,” he says loudly, and from your peripheral vision, you see Heeseung's head snap up to attention at the sound of his voice. “What do you think about adopting a cat together if this goes well?”

This time, you hear a spoon clatter to the floor, and your shoulders shake with the effort of not breaking character. “Sure,” you grin, “but we name it Butterscotch.” Yeonjun holds his hand out to you, and you give it a firm handshake. “Deal,” he snickers, “future cat will be named Butterscotch.” The sound of aggressive typing can be heard next, in the same characteristic way that Heeseung types when he's playing a co-op round of League of Legends. The next minute, a screenshot arrives to your phone in the group chat, one that you promptly show to Yeonjun.

[Gyudon]: (screenshot of Heeseung panicking)

[Gyudon]: i say the plan is working fantastically

[Gyudon]: let him suffer, rachel.

Yeonjun chuckles, leaning back in his seat. “Say,” he drawls lazily, despite the shy smile on his face. “What do you think about feeding each other dessert?” You pause, watching the way Heeseung goes still with you. Then, you turn to the theatre major, and lean in, smiling sweetly. “I'd say that's a fantastic idea, partner.”

Your (temporary) Romeo grins, before returning to the character of the shy, sweet loverboy, and holds up a spoonful of tiramisu for you. “Here, say aah~” The moment your lips close around the spoon, you hear dishes clattering to the floor. When both Yeonjun and you whip your head towards the source, you find that Heeseung's stood up in his seat, coffee spilt all over his shirt. You almost felt bad for him there.

Thankfully, he still seems to remember that he's spying (or more like his lack of subtlety in doing so), and he keeps his face covered with the scarf as he apologises to the staff, before heading out of the café—not even petting a cat on his way out. When his broad back finally disappears from view and into the busy street, you turn back to Yeonjun, who simply blinks at you.

For a heartbeat, the two of you simply stare at each other.

Then, the orange cat laying its head in your lap makes a startled jump as Yeonjun gives you a high-five that echoes in the small space of your booth. “We're getting under his skin!” He cheers, kissing all over a tortie's face in celebration, while the feline simply stares at him in disbelief. “A few more outings, and he'll definitely realise what he's actually feeling.”

Sighing, you go back to eating your tiramisu while petting the orange cat—named Butterscotch, according to his collar—who's purring and laying his head in your lap again, already beginning to fall asleep on your thigh. “Hopefully he does.”

“Don't worry, he will,” Yeonjun winks, holding the tortie up in the air to coo at her. “I've played a lot of characters, and the way he's behaving is very, very consistent with the behaviour I had to study for the role of a man beginning to realise he's in love.”

“I'll trust your word on that, Choi,” you brandish your fork at him, and he places his hand on his chest, finally letting go of the tortie who immediately jumps to the floor with an indignant meow. “My honour, mademoiselle. You shall find my words coming true very soon.”

He grins at you, and you find yourself mirroring it, before laughing as Yeonjun yells “Here, kitties!” as he dives for the cats by the table.

For now, you'll allow yourself to believe in Choi Yeonjun and his theatrical analyses. Anything else can be taken care of after that.

If murder was legal, you're pretty sure Riki would've been dead thirty times over by now. All by your hand, of course.

The six foot and two inches tall menace stands next to you, grinning widely as he acts out the scene of an imaginary (hopefully only for now) confession, awfully far too cheerful for a Wednesday morning. “Oh, Heeseung~! How long I have waited for you to realise that I've been the one for you all along!”

He doesn't falter at the glare you level him, but doubles down instead, raising his arm to rest on his forehead dramatically. “And then Heeseungie hyung goes “Oh, I've been such an idiot to have been so blind, that I have not seen thee all this time!” before he pulls you onto his white horse and rides off into the sunset with for a happily ever after, while the rest of us watch with popcorn and 3D glasses.”

“Okay, Shakespeare,” Jay pats Riki on the shoulder, as he comes to stand across you. “Leave some literary prowess for the rest of us too.” Riki grins at him, bounding over to tuck himself into the older boy's side. “Not my fault she's so pathetic about him that I have to wax poetics about it,” he ducks, his lanky limbs splaying comically all over the hallway's floors to avoid the book that you throw at him. “Oi! Violence is forbidden in these esteemed and prestigious hallways, missy!”

You throw another book at him, but the sly bastard dodges it again, and your book ends up coming to a rest next to a pair of black sneakers. Sunoo crouches down to pick up your book, and dusts it off, before whacking Riki over the head with it and returning it back to you. “What did we say about teasing her in places where He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named can hear?”

Riki pouts, rubbing the sore spot on his head indignantly, as Jay snickers next to him. “You kinda deserved that,” he says, and Riki stares at him like he's been personally betrayed by the very notion of Jay taking your side, and not his. “Jay hyung! I thought we had a thing going on! How could you betray me like this?!”

“Yoi, pipe down on the volume, you brat,” Jungwon appeared from behind Riki, gently pinching his side. “You want everyone in this hallway to know how much of a giant baby you are to us?” Riki hisses, glaring at the medicine major, though there's no real heat behind it. “I am not a giant baby!”

“You're saying all the exact things a giant baby would say,” Jake teased, still dressed in his dark green scrubs, with Chaewon, Jo, and Sunghoon in tow behind him. “Denial is only second to acceptance,” Chaewon ruffles Riki's hair, as Jo gives you a small, shy wave. Sunghoon nodded briefly at you, and immediately gets to questioning Jay about the meal plan he'd sent him right after.

Beomgyu and Fuma are the last to arrive, and another round of greeting passes between everyone, before they come to stand in between Sunghoon and Jo. “So,” Beomgyu begins, a mischievous glint in his eyes, as a familiar rhythm of footsteps reached your ears.

His voice grew louder just as Heeseung rounded the corner, and he leaned against Fuma, pretending to be inquisitive about a friend's developing romance. “How have the five dates been so far? Do you think you're at a point where he's going to ask you to be his girlfriend yet?”

You simply pretend to think about his question, when in fact, you were looking back at Heeseung's behaviour these past few “dates.” How your friends had convinced him to do it a second, third, and fourth time again, you're not exactly sure, but he was always there in that ridiculous disguise, watching you and Yeonjun with a quiet intensity that left you buzzing at the prospect of getting closer to your goal.

The second “date” took place two weeks after the first one at the cat café, and had been at the amusement park. He was a bit better at hiding his reactions by then, but Heeseung never strayed more than four feet from you and Yeonjun—and even willingly gotten onto the roller coaster, all so he could keep an eye on you.

Notable reactions of the day: he'd dropped his ice cream when you'd stole some of Yeonjun's, and had coughed rather loudly when on the shuttle bus, which made the people around the three of you maintain their distance for a bit, before he'd slyly slid close enough that you could feel his warmth through his jacket as he came to stand next to you.

The third “date” happened three weeks later at the local natural history museum, and this time he'd shown up with a pair of sunglasses, a large hat, and a false moustache that you're pretty sure that Sunoo made for him. While you were explaining the story and facts behind some of the specimens on display to Yeonjun, Heeseung had been furiously scribbling notes in a brown notebook that you'd never seen before.

Notable reactions of the day: he immediately tried to offer you his jacket when you realised that you didn't bring one and Yeonjun wasn't wearing one, only for your “boyfriend” to pull a hoodie out of his bag, while a sweet old lady took Heeseung's jacket instead. He also tripped over the stairs twice, because he was trying to keep you in his line of sight, and didn't see where he was headed.

The fourth “date” had been at a pottery class, another three weeks after the one at the museum. This time he'd shown up as himself, bringing Soobin (a mutual who was friends with Yeonjun and Chaewon) with him, and had “conveniently” been alloted the same time slot as you and Yeonjun. Soobin, who'd been briefed about the little gig by Yeonjun in advance, simply kept his head down and focused on his pottery, in fear that he'd make eye contact with the older man and give the two of you away.

Heeseung, in the meantime, had begun an one sided competition against Yeonjun, making more and more complex designs (and much to your surprise—and a little bit of that ever-growing attraction to him—he was actually pretty good at them, being praised by the instructor).

Notable reactions of the day: he'd huffed proudly, sending a subtle side eye to Yeonjun when his design was picked by the instructor for the title of “Star Student of the Day,” while the man under hypothetical emotional warfare himself and Soobin were rather busy clutching their bellies in laughter over Soobin's grotesque little creations. He'd also been whispering something to the person who was in charge of firing the ceramics in the kiln and walked away with a satisfied smile, but not before ruffling your hair and pulling you into a tight hug.

The fifth and most recent “date” had been three days ago, at a strawberry farm. Sunoo had been the one to “recommend” the spot, and you'd immediately “proposed” the idea to Yeonjun, who of course, had very enthusiastically “accepted” the offer. Heeseung, seemingly buoyed by his success with the pottery class, had shown up with Sunghoon and Jo, with the iron-clad excuse that the three of them were there to be chaperones for the kids in Fuma's Sunflower Kindergarten class for their trip to the farm.

You weren't quite sure how it happened, but somehow Yeonjun and you were also swept up with the kids and their chaos, which ended up with you playing house with them instead. Heeseung did try to be nonchalant and act like he usually would, but you definitely didn't miss the way he muttered a “Yes!” under his breath in victory, as the kids (probably bribed by Fuma with the promise of being able to paste more stickers on him) decided that he'd be your “husband” for the game.

Yeonjun was, of course, promptly made the dog—and much to his credit, he played the role of the disgruntled but agreeable “boyfriend” rather perfectly, which had Heeseung beaming with a grin he couldn't quite hide. Notable reactions of the day: his arm never quite left your waist, he acted like a proper husband would (much to Sunghoon's delight, who most definitely did not record the entire thing for future blackmail purposes, while Jo tried to stop him half-heartedly), and even kissed your cheek thrice.

Megan, who'd arrived from the other side of the building, was the one who brought you out of your little recollection as she whines to Chaewon about breaking one of her nails during practice for a chore. You finally answer Beomgyu as Heeseung comes to stand next to you, wordlessly picking up your bag that had been resting on the floor by your feet, while his arm wraps around your shoulders. “I think he's getting bold,” you hum, as Heeseung watches you with that same quiet, intense focus—hanging onto every word that you say. “I'd say he's not shying away from being affectionate in public.”

Beomgyu snickers as Heeseung's grip on your shoulder tightens for just the briefest moment—before it relaxes, as if it never happened. “That's good for you,” Fuma grins, stealing some of Jo's rice crackers. “We don't have to listen to you whine about him anymore.”

That last sentence seemed to have switched something in Heeseung, as he turns to you with a frown marring his pretty face. “You actually talk about Yeonjun to them? Why did I not know about any of this? You've never come to me about him.” The air shifts as everybody tenses for a moment—Sunoo stops tying his laces, Jungwon's hand pauses mid-air from where he was trying to steal some of Jake's lemonade, while Jay, Megan and Chaewon glance at you with wide eyes—before you offer Heeseung a small smile, squeezing his arm.

Thank goodness Yeonjun had prepared you for just about any scenario with the strictness of a drill sergeant.

“Sorry about that, Hee,” you murmur, looking up at his doe eyes. “It's just that... you didn't really seem to like him, and you're one of my closest friends, so I wanted to be a hundred percent sure about him, before I brought him up to you.”

He stares back at you, jaw clenching tight for a tenth of a second, before he's relaxing and giving you a slightly stiffer version of his usual smile. “Of course,” he breathes, “of course that's what it was. I'm... I'm really glad that you value my opinion so much.” His phone rings just then, and he steps away from you. “Sorry, I gotta take this call. Be back in a sec, alright? Then we can go to class together.”

Before you can reply, he's already disappeared around the corner, speaking softly to someone on the phone. As soon as he vanishes from view, Jake slaps your back, before shaking you by the shoulders. “Oh my god! Did you see that?! He was totally jealous for a second there!”

Jay nods, giving you a relieved smile. “He's definitely affected. Yeonjun hyung said that the last “date” two weeks from now should get him to confess, and seeing Heeseung hyung's behaviour today, I'd say he wasn't too far off in his observation.” Everyone gives you hushed whispers of ideas for the next and final “date,” but go back to acting normally as soon as Riki signs the signal that Heeseung's coming back.

“Alright, I'm done. Let's go, yeah?” He picks up your bag again, holding out his hand for you to take. You stare at it, and he looks back at you with an expectant raise of his eyebrow. Then your hand slips into his, and he gives you a pleased smile, before leading you to the CS building. “We'll see you guys later!” He calls out over his shoulder to the rest (who stare at him with wide eyes), his fingers lacing with yours as he walks confidently, slowing his pace to stay next to you instead of being ahead of you.

“Did you eat yet?” His question snaps you out of your daze, and you blink at him. “What?”

He huffs in amusement, flicking your forehead gently with his free hand. “I asked if you've eaten yet, you muppet.”

“Not yet,” you shrug, and he clicks his tongue in mild annoyance. “Do I not keep telling you not to be a liability to yourself? You should be taking better care of yourself. C'mon, we've got fifteen minutes before class. I'm sure you can at least eat a sandwich or two in that timeframe.” He immediately steers you in the direction of the on-campus café, a firm hand resting on your nape to keep you from escaping. He quickly navigates the both of you through the crowd of students—at one point, his arm ends up wrapped around your shoulders as he tucks you into his side, shielding you from the sea of people around you.

He makes quiet conversation with you, asking you about your opinions on the designs for the sprites of his latest game project, while one hand types away something on his phone that he doesn't let you see. When the café comes into view, his hand slips back down to hold yours, and he waits for you to pick the table you want to sit at. “That one?” He points to a spot three tables down from where the both of you stood, which was by the window—the sunlight seeped through the stained glass windows in hues of soft cyans and pinks and oranges, gently warming the wood.

His hand still holds onto yours, even as he places your bag on the other end of the seat, and helps you settle in. Heeseung finally lets go of you, smiling softly at you. “Wait here for a few minutes,” he pockets his phone, “they should have your food ready. I'll go get it.”

You blink at him in confusion, still holding the menu in your hands. “But Heeseung, I haven't even ordered anything yet.” He simply chuckles, adjusting the watch on his wrist. “I know,” he pats your head, “I already ordered for you on the way here. It's a Wednesday, so your go-to order is a Greek-style grilled chicken salad and a tall glass of lemonade. You usually skip your usual coffee on Wednesdays because you don't feel like putting yourself through a mid-week caffeine crash. You've been doing that since the second year of high school, when you'd make the salads yourself because, in your own words, you 'couldn't really find a place that made the tzatziki right,' in the way you liked it.”

As if on cue, the employee at the counter calls out your name with a tray in her hands, and Heeseung waves a hand at her. “That's us!” Then he's off, long limbs quickly covering the distance to the counter, while you stare blankly at the empty space he'd left behind.

You'd only made those salads for a grand total of three Wednesdays, before you gave up and stuck to the one from the café by the corner of the street leading to your home.

Even then, it was something you did at home, and had only mentioned it to your friends in passing conversation once.

Did he... did he remember that ever since then?

“What are you so lost in thought about, hm?” The soft noise of the plastic tray against the wood snaps you out of your thoughts, as Heeseung slides into the seat across from you, an amused smile on his face. “You looked like you were trying to figure out one of life's greatest mysteries.”

Yeah, you want to scream at him. You're the mystery I want answers about, because you care too much and too little at the same time.

But you bite your tongue, and grin at him instead. “Just thinking. Did you really remember that little thing all the way from high school?”

He raises a brow at you, eyes studying you in a way you can't quite decipher yet. “Mhm. I wouldn't have ordered it for you otherwise.”

“Okay, Obvious George,” you roll your eyes in faux annoyance, “I'm just saying you didn't have to remember that. I literally mentioned it once in passing and never again.”

“Well,” he sets his iced americano down, never quite breaking eye contact with you. “I remembered because I wanted to.”

You pause for a moment, as the words register in your brain. He remembered. Not because he had to remember something about a friend.

He remembered, because he wanted to remember.

And there was nothing else you'd want to do at the moment than curse your heart from the traitorous way it picks up its pace, the steady pulsing fast enough that you can hear it in your own ears.

“Oh,” you finally croak, cursing yourself for the way your voice cracks towards the end. “That's... Um, that's very thoughtful of you. Thank you.”

He stares at you for a few moments longer, before he reaches a hand over, brushing a stand of hair behind your ear, and your breath hitches at the action.

Then, he promptly flicks your forehead.

“I do things like that to take care of the people I like, so there's no need to thank me, you silly little muppet.”

Hissing at the slight sting of pain blooming across your skin, you place one hand on your forehead, while the other points the fork at him. “You did all of this... because you wanted to take care of me?”

“Yeah,” he shrugs, as if it's the most normal thing in the world to do. “Somebody has to take care of you because you refuse to do it yourself, so it might as well be me.”

Your mouth moves faster than your brain allows it to, and the words slip out of it, landing right between the two of you. “You'll make a great boyfriend someday.”

He freezes for the barest tenths of a second, and you're already scrambling to find an excuse, but then he does something you don't expect him to.

He tips his head back and laughs loudly. Not in a mocking way, no, but in pure, absolute joy. The one that causes his precious heart shaped smile to appear, and your heart resumes its self-imposed marathon, while you stare at him in confusion.

Heeseung wipes the tears forming at the corner of his eyes, and grins at you. Twinkling eyes and heart shaped smile and all.

“Yeah?” He picks up a tissue, and reaches over to wipe some of the tzatziki on your lip. “I'm glad you think so highly of me. Your opinion is one of the few that really matter to me, after all.”

He goes back to lounging in his seat, pulling out his phone to show you something while sipping on his drink.

It's then, that you come to a quiet realisation, as you watch him already beginning to ramble away about the most recent mishaps he's faced in his latest round of coding for his passion project—like he didn't just screw you over, all over again, just like the way he did in high school.

You don't just like Lee Heeseung.

You're also deeply, maddeningly, irrevocably in love with him, too.

Goodness gracious. You're absolutely doomed if this plan doesn't work out in the next two weeks.

Oh, it's absolutely ridiculous, the things love can do to you. All you can say to yourself now is “Good luck, babe!” and pray that the universe and Choi Yeonjun's little plan pull through for you.

ᯤ ACT FOUR: SYNTAX DEBUGGING IN EFFECT

As the current owner of the title of Choi Yeonjun's “not girlfriend but kinda girlfriend,” you'd expected some degree of attention. However, what you didn't know, was that you'd also be facing the strangest week of your life thanks to it too.

Yeonjun was quite a popular guy, after all.

But what you also didn't expect was that the moment Yeonjun disappeared to another city for a theatre show, you'd be bombarded by male attention.

More specifically, with attention from other boys in the theatre department—because apparently spending time with you had given Yeonjun some kind of inspiration that had made his acting even better (he had confessed by the fourth date that this little... operation had given him some ideas for his acting for a few roles, but those were completely different from the part that he was currently playing with you). How those two events were related to each other, you don't know, but what you did know through your sources in the theatre department (read: Choi Beomgyu) was that you were now being dubbed the “Theatre Major's Good Luck Charm.”

Oh, and not to mention the rumour spreading around like wildfire—that any guy from said department who got to go on a date with you would get a lifetime's worth of inspiration.

Which is why, now you're stuck by the entrance of your lecture hall, with a crowd of boys holding up various gifts into the air and professing their love for you in poetics that you nearly believe would put Shakespeare to shame. Now, on a good day, you might've joked around or even played along for a bit, but alas, for the not-so-little crowd, they were blocking your way into class.

On a Monday morning, nonetheless.

“Lovely to see your enthusiasm for acting, guys,” you give the lot a strained smile, spotting Chaewon who snickers at your predicament from where she's comfortably sat inside the room, “but can we clear the way? I've got a class to get to.”

Unfortunately for you, your little crowd of “admirers” seem to have been a little too passionate, and don't listen to a word you say. Instead, they double down, with one of the boys at the front going down on one knee, as he holds up a bouquet as large as your face. “One date is all I ask for, please!” He all but yells, thrusting the flowers into your face. “Be my muse!”

“I don't think I have to be—”

“The only thing anyone here will be is face down on the floor,” a low drawl sounds out behind you, as Heeseung stares down at the crowd, his jaw set in annoyance, “if you don't let her through right now. She's already told you to move once—she shouldn't have to do it a second time.”

The bouquet boy (as you've dubbed him in your head) blinks at him, flabbergasted at Heeseung's appearance. “Who are you? If you want to get your turn, get in line.” The crowd behind him echoes his sentiment, grumbling about maintaining etiquette and waiting for one's turn. Heeseung's eye twitches in annoyance, as he wraps an arm around your shoulders, drawing you close to his side.

“I don't have to wait for anything,” he huffs, using his height to his advantage as he stares the other men down. “I've been here from the start.”

This time, it's your turn to stare at him with wide eyes. But either Heeseung doesn't actually notice, or prefers to pretend not to notice the way you're looking at him, keeping his eyes ahead as he walks through the crowd with you, while they part for him like the sea. It's only when you're both safely inside with the door shut behind you, that Heeseung finally turns to face you.

Instead of the narrowed twist of his brows in annoyance and irritation, his expression by something much, much gentler, as it softens into a look of concern that he poorly tries to hide. “Are you okay?” His thumb brushes comforting circles on your shoulders, before he turns back to glare at the crowd. “What the hell was all of that?”

“That's the Choi Yeonjun effect, people,” Chaewon grins as she joins the two of you, throwing her arms around both you and Heeseung, who gives her an annoyed scrunch of his nose.

“Rumour has it that his acting—which was already good, mind you—improved even more during the five dates he's been with our little friend here,” she gently knocks the side of your head with her knuckles, “so much so that every man in the theatre department apart from Choi Beomgyu is now a firm believer in the notion that she's an actor's ultimate source of inspiration.”

Heeseung snorts, the roll of his eyes giving away his mild vexation with the situation. “There's literally nothing going on with her life that's worth creating all of this ruckus and drama for.” You and Chaewon share a fleeting look at that, quickly looking away from each other to hide the grins growing on your faces.

If only you knew, Lee Heeseung. If only you knew.

Clearing your throat, you pat Heeseung's arm. “Well, thank you for your assistance back there.” He softens up again, giving you a small smile as he ruffles your hair. “Anytime, you muppet. Only God knows how you get yourself into situations as ridiculous as these.”

Oh, you're well aware of how you ended up here. But instead of saying anything else, you simply grin at him, before heading off to your regular seat in the corner by the window. Heeseung takes his seat on your left, while Chaewon takes hers in front of you, just as your teacher arrives.

Old Professor Min's voice is rather adept at droning out any thoughts in your head other than what's on the slides in front of you as the lecture proceeds, even if Heeseung's arm rests protectively around the back of your chair the entire time.

Eventually, he just drops his hoodie into your lap when he feels you shiver from the aircon that's running two degrees lower than it should be, while he works on his own notes for CS 202: Data Structures and Algorithms.

You feel the tension in his shoulders leave when you put it on, and for the first time since you arrived at Decelis U that morning, he actually relaxes. The hoodie, which smells like his fabric softener and that vanilla and spice perfume he's been using since that summer in the second year of high school, becomes a welcome distraction from him for the rest of the lecture.

It serves its purpose well, especially when Heeseung glares at the other boys in the class whenever they look your way, accidental or not.

What a strange, strange Monday this was.

No, seriously. What the hell had you gotten yourself into?

If he ever gets his hands on one Choi Yeonjun, Heeseung's pretty sure that he's gonna do some things that are not meant to be spoken out loud.

Ever since the theatre major had left for a week-long performance with a bunch of other students, things had just kept going wrong. And much to his luck, they all orbited around you—his closest friend and confidante, all the way from high school.

Heeseung's always cherished your presence greatly. You've always been by his side, offering encouragement, solutions and a listening ear when he'd felt particularly frustrated by his studies, and took part in his joy like it was yours. He still remembers rather vividly, the way you'd hugged him when his acceptance letter to Decelis came in.

It had been a rather hot summer day, when the letter came in. You were splayed on Heeseung's bed like a starfish, while he sat on his bedroom floor and mashed the buttons on his controller, trying to beat the 45th level's boss for the sixth time in the past twenty minutes. “Ugh,” he curses, setting the controller down as 'GAME OVER' flashes on his screen again. “Why's he so hard to beat?”

You raise your head from where you'd been lying, and roll over to him, wordlessly extending your hand. He places the device in your palm, picking up his glass of the watermelon juice his mother had so kindly dropped off for the both of you. “What a pain.” You huff in amusement, and he already feels his foul mood begin to lighten, as he watches you land hits after hits on the Minotaur boss. “You just gotta,” you throw a knife at one of the monster's weak spots, “have a good aim. He's got a weak hide under the sapphire armour.”

Heeseung gives you a high-five just as 'LEVEL CLEARED' appears on the screen, and along with it, his older brother in the doorway. “Oi, you've got mail.” He all but throws the stack of envelopes at Heeseung's face, earning himself a glare from the younger boy. Snickering in satisfaction at the reaction he'd elicited from his younger brother, he gives you a sweet smile before sticking out his tongue at Heeseung, and finally shuts the door behind him, narrowly missing being hit by the pillow your best friend threw at him.

“Ugh, he's so annoying,” Heeseung grumbles, sorting through the pile on the floor, as you giggle next to him. “Promotions, flyer, promotions, another flyer, more promotions, and—OH MY GOD!” He sits up straighter, eyes wide as he stares at the envelope addressed to him. His sudden yelp has you sitting up as well, and you gasp softly at the letter in his hands—the one embellished with that elegant 'DU' that belonged to Decelis University. The two of you stare at the letter in silence for a few heartbeats, until he finally breaks it.

“I'm gonna open it,” he declares, and you scramble to get off of the bed and onto the floor next to him. “Okay, okay.” You hold up your hand. “On the count of five?”

Heeseung nods solemnly, and you begin the slow countdown. The moment you reach zero, he quickly tears through the seal, and pulls out the letter inside. “Together,” he says, holding it up to the light. Your eyes rove over the paper, taking in the words written on it, before the two of you turn to stare blankly at each other.

“You got in.”

“I got in.”

For a moment, there's nothing but silence.

Then you're tackling him into a hug, shoulders shaking from the way you're both laughing and crying at the same time, with the shriek of joy that he lets out echoing loud enough that his mother yells at the two of you from downstairs.

Not that he could care much for it at the moment—all that mattered was that letter and you, after all.

Which is why, your absence—although unintentional—from his side thanks to those dates you were on with Yeonjun, stings just a little more than it should.

“.... —seung? Earth to Heeseung?” Chaewon's face snaps him out of his little recollection, and he blinks.

He looks down and sees that your hand's resting on his arm, while both you and Chaewon stare at him in concern and confusion. “You okay?” Your voice is soft, squeezing his arm gently. He lets out a soft sigh, and nods at the both of you. “I'm okay,” he grins. “Professor Min's voice just had me distracted. I was trying not to fall asleep.”

Chaewon seems to buy it, already beginning to whine about how she's absolutely famished. And although the little knit of your eyebrows tells Heeseung that you don't quite believe him, he's grateful that you don't bring it up, and silently walk to the cafeteria next to him instead.

Just when he thinks that the weird incident from this morning was going to be the end of it, he's instantly proved wrong. Another overenthusiastic, overzealous little fellow from that accursed department pops up like a little mole, and God, does he wish he had a little hammer to whack him back in. “Hey!” The other guy chirps, far too cheerful for a Monday afternoon, as he hands you an order of your favourite coffee and a blueberry muffin. “Thought you'd like this!”

First Yeonjun, and now this idiot. Why the fuck did every guy in that department know what coffee you liked? Was someone close to you selling them info about your likes or something?

Heeseung watches with growing vexation as you refuse it at first, and then thank the guy when he insists that you take it. He really, really would've left it at that, but then that idiot just had to go and ask if you'd be willing to go out with him once. Heeseung's hand shoots out before the junior finishes his sentence, and he takes the coffee from your hand, and gulps it down himself instead.

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he glares at the younger man. “She's not going anywhere—and if you had any respect for your senior, you wouldn't be asking the girl he's interested in for an outing while he isn't in town.” When he's not listened to, Heeseung steps forward, hiding your view of the way he glares at the junior. “Leave.”

The other person—now thoroughly intimidated by his height and glare—doesn't need to be told a second time, and immediately books it with a quick “Have a nice day!” that he all but yells at you when he runs past.

“Pfft—!” Chaewon's snickering starts out slow, before it snowballs into loud laughter. “Heeseung, you didn't have to terrify the poor guy like that!”

Heeseung rolls his eyes, aggressively munching on the blueberry muffin. “I'm just looking out for both her and Yeonjun's interests,” he huffs, mouthful of muffin. “It's a valid reaction—you only get people stuff like this,” he pauses to swallow, covering his mouth with his hand, “when you're close to them. He is not close enough to her to be doing this.”

Chaewon gives him an amused raise of her eyebrows, crossing her arms over her chest. “Really? Well, who's one close person who always brought you your favourite food?” Heeseung, without missing a beat, points at you. “All the time since high school.” She blinks in surprise at that, before shrugging. “Good point.”

He flashes you and Chaewon a triumphant grin, finishing off the last of the muffin, completely missing the look the both of you give each other as he walks ahead.

Hopefully, the rest of his day is peaceful with no interruptions from other little moles.

Unfortunately, much to Heeseung's displeasure, the rest of the week continues in the same fashion. The rumour, for some reason no one knew about, had also evolved—it went from having a date with you, to just having a single, romantic moment with you.

Which is why he was here now, sat next to Jay and Jo on a Sunday evening, with his head in his hands as he recollects the most absurd week of both his and your lives with great exasperation (something the campus gossip page had great fun poking fun at).

Tuesday, another junior tried sharing an umbrella with you during a walk back from your classes. While it was sunny outside.

He'd promptly taken the umbrella and chucked it into the nearest bin.

Wednesday, a fourth year senior tried his shot. Pinned you to a wall like the protagonist of a shoujo manga while he quoted Romeo and Juliet.

Heeseung pulled him off by the collar, then grabbed your hand and ran, before the two of you hid in the library from any stragglers for the rest of the day.

Thursday, some second and third years had managed to turn the common lounge into a dance party. Someone must've had a connection in the Music department, he's sure.

He'd never let go of you the entire time, except for when your friends had appeared. Nobody you didn't know by name and history had got to dance with you.

Friday, some guy had tried to “defend” you from a puddle of muddy water after the rain, while his friend was aggressively cycling towards the three of you (Heeseung, you and the nuisance, as he'd dubbed him in his head), throwing himself in front of you while yelling about how your “heavenly visage” could not be muddied.

Heeseung had simply held up his umbrella, covering the both of you, while the other guy got a face full of mud. Then, he'd shook off the mud from his umbrella, before closing it, and walking away with your hand tightly clasped in his.

Saturday, it was the gifts and the anonymous letters. Gifts and letters everywhere. Literally everywhere. Your desk, your bag (how that had happened, he's not sure, but he had a sneaking suspicion that it was related to one Choi Beomgyu and the unusually fat wad of cash he'd taken to carrying in his pocket), the common lounge, your friend group's usual hangout space. Now, thankfully, none of it was edible—it was just a mountain of plushies upon plushies, along with a bunch of... blankets? He didn't know why there were blankets, but they were there too, and simply assumed that it was another strange tradition of the theatre department.

He'd dealt with that in a variety of ways. The letters were dumped straight into recycling. The plushies, by offering some of them to Fuma's kindergarten class, while most of the pile went to a charity that helped kids in orphanages and hospitals. The blankets went to a few animal shelters that Jake had recommended, along with a sizable donation that the dean had asked the theatre department to make in exchange for all the chaos they'd created the past week.

“Hey, hey, something good came out of it,” Jay offers him a sympathetic smile, as he pushes the plate of fried chicken towards Heeseung. “The kids and the animals got a bunch of new stuff, at least.” Heeseung sighs as Jo pats his back, and gives both of the younger ones a tired smile. “Yeah... I'm just glad that the muppet didn't stress herself out with all that chaos and actually found all of it rather funny.”

Jo and Jay share a look, shaking their heads as they recall how delighted you had been for the entire week. They knew the true reason why, but they'd never say it out loud to Heeseung, of course—so they simply settle for laughing quietly instead.

“I mean, you did do all the stressing in her place,” Jay quips, sipping on his soda, “so I'm sure she must've found it hilarious to watch you slowly lose your mind.”

“Well, I'm just glad that at least one of us found joy in that absurdity,” Heeseung leaned back in his seat, stretching his long limbs as a small smile made its way onto his face. “It was absolutely exhausting to watch them behave like teenagers, really. I've never been more glad that Yeonjun came back and immediately put a stop to that nonsense.”

Jo giggles at his answer, and Heeseung's smile grows wider at the sound. While he's known Jay since his childhood, Jo was a recent addition to the group—courtesy of you, Jake and Fuma being friends with each other—and had only joined the circle last year. But despite that, he'd steadily grown fond of the underclassman, finding Jo's shyness rather endearing. “What's so funny, Jo?” He teases, reaching over to ruffle the younger's hair fondly.

“Oh, it's nothing. That entire week just reminded me of something that Sunghoon told me about your time in high school a while back,” Jo smoothes his hair down, “but you're quite close with our dearest “lucky charm,” right?”

Heeseung hums, relaxing again. “Yeah, she's one of my closest friends. Right after this one here,” he teases, pulling Jay into a headlock, while his childhood friend yells at him to let go. “I'm sure that she's never getting rid of that lucky charm title. A silly little title for a silly little muppet.”

Finally letting go of him after Jay had begun to fight back, Heeseung turns to Jo again. “But what did Sunghoon tell you about high school? I sure hope it wasn't about the time we accidentally set off all the smoke detectors because we were trying to sneak snacks into the chemistry lab, and had one of the candy wrappers catch fire.”

“What?” Jo's eyes go wide as saucers, and Heeseung gives him a sheepish grin as Jay groans out loud. “Whoops. I guess it wasn't that, after all.”

“Ah, seriously, Heeseung hyung,” Jay groans, before pulling Jo close to him by wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “Listen carefully, Jo. We were supposed to take that information to our graves—but since you know about it now, you are obligated to do so as well.”

The interior design major, despite his growing grin, mimics zipping up his mouth. Jay stares at him for a moment longer, before letting go of him with another ruffle of his hair. “I'll hold you to that, Jo,” Heeseung threatens in jest, crossing his legs at the ankles, “or we'll be seeing each other a lot more than we need to.”

“Not another soul will know about this,” Jo nods somberly, placing a hand over his heart, before bursting into laughter. “To answer your question, Sunghoon was just telling me a bunch of the sillier stuff you've done. But he did say that a lot of the things the theatre department did last week as “romantic” gestures,” he makes quotes with his fingers when he says the word 'romantic' out loud, “reminded him quite a bit of the stuff you and she would do too—on a much smaller and less ridiculous scale, of course.” Jay snorts into his drink, laughing at the reminder. “Oh my god! I kept wondering why it all felt so familiar, but that was the reason why!”

The two of them chuckle and snicker as they compare the incidents to each other, and how the theatre majors were more dramatic. And really, Heeseung should be joining in with them, making fun of the drama and absurdity of it all, but he finds that he can't.

His brain's too busy being stuck on the last part of Jo's sentence, trying to process it.

The chaos of last week reminded Sunghoon of the things you and him—well, mostly you—used to do. Usually, it would never be a problem, and he'd never give it much thought.

But the theatre department's antics were meant to represent romantic gestures.

Not platonic.

And you'd done so many of them over the past four years that he's known you.

Bringing him his favourite food. Sharing your umbrella with him, not caring about whether the weather was rainy or not. Showing him stuff you found funny and spamming him with memes at 3 AM in the morning because you knew he had trouble falling asleep sometimes. Sharing your food with him. “Protecting” him from puddles. Making him dance with you in the aisles of grocery stores that you'd drag him to when you showed up at his window at 11 in the night because you were bored and hungry. The anonymous letters that always had your handwriting. The gifts that he'd find in his bag, and were always stuff that he liked.

He leans back in his seat, laughing to himself—the sound not out of place with all the jokes that Jay and Jo were making—but it's more out of disbelief than joy, as a number of realisations click into place in his mind.

Well, shit. He's really been a rather blind idiot to it all, hasn't he?

ᯤ EPILOGUE: SYNTAX ERROR NO MORE

It's an odd feeling, really—being able to feel Heeseung's presence, while not being able to see him.

The aquarium is dim, with the blue light from the enclosures being the only source of light around the deep sea exhibit.

The place is calming, really—low, dim lights, people speaking in hushed tones, and the only other sounds being the ones of the animals in the enclosures swimming about—but right now, you're the most nervous you've ever been your entire life, shaking with anxiety because today's the day.

The one where this little performance you'd put on with Yeonjun ends, and you'd get your results.

He had picked it as the destination for your final “date” with him, on a Sunday—the one that would either get you the man you've pined after for four years, or end in catastrophic disaster. With how your luck can be sometimes, you think it might end in the latter, but some part of you keeps faith in the universe to keep things right for once.

“Relax,” Yeonjun's voice is low in your ears, as his arm remains wrapped around your waist while the two of you walk around the exhibit. “We've been through almost every possible scenario. You'll do just fine.”

You look up at him, and instead of finding exasperation at the way you shuffle and sigh every other minute, what you do find in his eyes as they're lit by the light from the bioluminescent jellyfish is sympathy. While his expression is still in the midst of a performance with that soft, lovesick look on his face, his eyes tell you what he really feels. Over the nearly three and a half months that he's been a part of this bizarre little plan with you, Yeonjun has grown to be much more than a simple partner-in-crime—he'd also proven himself to be a close friend, who tried his best to help you.

So, it may have been Choi Yeonjun the actor that you were looking at, but it was Choi Yeonjun the friend that was staring back at you.

That brings you some semblance of comfort—just enough that your shoulders lose the tight wind that had taken root in the muscles there—and you give him a shaky grin. “Yeah,” you exhale softly, “Hopefully it all goes fine.”

Yeonjun's face softens, and he pulls you into a hug, resting his head on top of yours as he rubs comforting circles into your back. “Mhm. We can hope that it'll all be alright. I can't promise you that it's gonna work out in the end, but at least you'll know that you gave it your all for your last shot.”

You stay in his arms for a little longer, despite the feeling of lingering eyes that follow you. Jay did tell you that Heeseung had come to the aquarium at Jake and Megan's request, and you'd caught just a glimpse of his broad shoulders before he'd melded into one with the crowd and disappeared from view. Every now and then, you'd feel the weight of his stare on you, or you would catch the faintest whiff of vanilla and spice, before it vanished like a fleeting breeze on a summer day.

The two of you walk around the exhibit for a while longer, and while some of the exhibits on display do genuinely interest you, the frown subtly growing deeper on Yeonjun's face strips it all away. “What's wrong?” You whisper, as the two of you watch a spider crab move about in its enclosure. “It's just that...” He trails off, as if searching for the right words to say. “It just doesn't feel right to me that he's being this quiet. Normally, he would've shown up at least once by now, or we would've seen him—but apart from that one glimpse you saw of him at the ticket booth, we haven't seen him again. At all.”

His observation had you gnawing on your lip in anxiety, because by all means, he was right—Heeseung was never really this quiet about something, unless he'd thought long and hard about it, then came to a conclusion and had already accepted it. He'd been a bit more silent and introverted for the past week, especially after the week with the chaos caused by the theatre department (something Yeonjun had laughed for hours about, joking about how chaotic his fellow students could be). You'd chalked it up to your plan beginning to work—only now, it seemed more like it had worked opposite of the direction you had wanted it to.

“Alright,” Yeonjun finally comes to a halt a few feet away from the exit of the deep sea exhibit, standing with his back facing it and a determined set to his jaw. “Here's what we'll do.”

He turns to you, and exhales softly. “I remember you said that you weren't comfortable with kissing, so we'll just pretend to do so, just the way it is according to script C, okay?”

Your heart thrums fast enough that you feel it in your throat instead of your chest. For a moment, you want to say no—but you know deep down, that if you didn't do everything you could, regret would swallow you up instead, if the 'what-ifs' didn't get to your head first. So you give him just the barest, slightest of nods, and Yeonjun gives you an encouraging smile.

He doesn't rush you, letting you take your time. When you tap his left arm thrice—a little signal he'd come up with for discreet communication—he finally raises his hands to cup your face. “I'll do it when you're ready to,” he reassures, his hands warm as they rest against your skin. “Take your time.”

Inhale.

The world quietens around you, fading into background noise as the weight of everything—from the past few months of this ruse to the four years before them—comes crashing down on your shoulders.

Exhale.

The wave begins to recede slowly, as Yeonjun leans in, angling his head so that it'd look like a real kiss from a distance, when in reality, it'd be your cheek that he was kissing.

Inhale.

You let your eyes begin to close, fluttering lashes just about to meet each other—when you see him.

Exhale.

Heeseung's standing a few feet away from you and Yeonjun, staring at the two of you blankly. From the distance and the darkness, you can't accurately judge what exactly he's feeling, but the tense set of his frame gives him away a little more than his face does.

Inhale.

His eyes meet yours, and for the first time that evening, you see him smile. But this isn't the wide, heart shaped one you've grown to be fond of over the years—instead, this one looks more like someone's taped up the corners of his lips to resemble a sad excuse of it, flimsy and about to fall off any second.

Exhale.

Then he's turning his back to you, walking away before Yeonjun even finishes leaning in—almost as if he couldn't stand the sight any longer.

Everything is blurry.

“Stop,” you say out loud.

Yeonjun immediately does, pulling back from you. “What's wrong?” He whispers in mild panic, as he wipes away some of the tears on your face.

“Heeseung,” you breathe out, holding onto him tightly. “He was there—he, he saw us. I—our eyes met.” He looks behind him, in the direction you point to, head swiveling around as he tries to find Heeseung. “Where is he?”

“He left.” Yeonjun's head snaps back to you, eyes wide. “What?”

“He left,” you repeat, and his lips draw themselves into a tight, grim line. “He saw us and he left, before you'd even fully leaned in. I didn't know if it was going to be a mistake, but I knew it was too late for anything to happen, why am I so stupid at times—”

“Stop,” Yeonjun interrupts you, hands firm on your shoulders. “It's never too late for some things, and this is one of them. If you weren't sure whether it was a bad idea or not, then run after him. Get to him before he leaves, and find out for yourself what the truth is.”

You stare at him for a few seconds. Then you run.

Shoes slapping against the linoleum, you weave your way through the crowd as you try to find him in the dim lights. Despite circling around the entire exhibit nearly twice, you still don't find Heeseung. Every time you think that you've found him, he slips away like sand through your fingers, and all of it worsens the knot of anxiety in your chest. Was it truly too late? You shake your head to get rid of those thoughts. No, think. Think, think, think, where could he be—

A woman bumps into you, and she apologises softly. You're about to reply to her, brush her off that it's okay, when you catch sight of it—a little sea otter keychain hung from her bag. Sea otters. You straighten up, already spinning on your heel to head in the direction of their enclosure. If he wasn't there, then there was no other place he could be.

Sea otters had always been somewhat darling little creatures to Heeseung—he'd always talked about how much he wanted to see them in person, even all the way back in high school. Their exhibit here had been recently opened, and you knew that he hadn't visited yet. So you force yourself to run just a little faster, despite the way you're tired in more ways than one—and you're thankful for it all, because right by the glass enclosure of the sea otters stands Lee Heeseung, a forlorn look on his face.

“Heeseung!” His head snaps up at the sound of your voice, and he stares at you in confusion. “Hey,” he mumbles, arms already coming up to steady you as you pant in exertion. “Why are you here? Aren't you supposed to be with Yeonjun?”

“No,” you finally huff, “I came here for you.” But Heeseung—dumb idiot that he is—still doesn't understand, and gives you a sad, watery chuckle that you immediately see through. “Oh,” he chuckles, “that's sweet of you, really. But you didn't have to leave your boyfriend to come find me. Congrats, by the way—I'm happy for you. You were right, he does seem like a good guy.”

The sound of it pisses you off. The acceptance in his voice pisses you off. In fact, everything about him pisses you off. The way he still looks so pretty despite the sadness in his eyes that he tries so hard to conceal, despite the way his fingers tremble just the slightest as they hold you, and the way he wishes you well despite the tremors lacing his voice.

It's all so frustrating, really. You didn't sit through four whole years just for him to give up like this.

Nobody said that he had to be the one to confess, right?

“No,” you hiss, breaking away from his hold. “Don't call him my boyfriend, because he's not.”

Heeseung stares at you in confusion, brows furrowed. “Wh—what are you talking about? You've been on dates with him, he likes you, you like him, he was kissing you—”

“Yeonjun is not my boyfriend,” you repeat, stepping forward to glare at Heeseung. “It's all fake. This relationship, those dates we went on, even that “kiss” that didn't actually happen—none of it is real. None of it.”

“What?” Heeseung blinks, staring at you with wide eyes. “What do you mean it was all fake—”

“I mean what I said,” you cross your arms over your chest. “It's all fake.” He gapes, mouth opening and closing as he tries to form a coherent response. “But—but why?”

“Because I'm in love with a dumbass who's oblivious to every form of romantic expression there is!” His expression twists into something between shock and betrayal, but you continue despite it. “And I yearned and yearned for four fucking long years, hoping he'd see through it himself one day because I didn't want to ruin our friendship, but it turned out to be the worst fucking decision of my life, and now here I am, standing before you—”

His expression shifts to something unreadable, something you can't quite make out, but you're far too deep in to stop now.

“—because you're the dumbass that I'm so incorrigibly in love with!”

The silence between the two of you stretches for a long time, the only sounds being the harsh pants you heave out, as the weight of the secret you've carried for so long finally melts away. Heeseung doesn't respond, still staring at you with that blank, dazed look in his eyes.

As your breath finally begins to even out, your heart sinks to the bottom of your chest. So this was what it had come to, huh? At least you'd tried.

“I've said my piece,” you try to swallow the lump forming in your throat, “but you don't have to say anything. I don't expect you to say or do anything, but I just had to let you know because I couldn't fucking keep it in any longer. I... I'll see you tomorrow, then.” Just as you turn around to leave, a hand wraps around your wrist firmly, and before you can process it, Heeseung's already pulled you into a tight, crushing embrace.

“I'm so sorry,” he sobs, burying his face into your neck, while his arms wrap around your middle tight enough that it hurts to breathe. “I'm so, so fucking sorry that I was blind to my own feelings for so long. I'm so, so sorry I made you suffer so much—I really am.”

“Heeseung,” you call, hit his shoulder lightly. “No,” he sobs harder, sniffling against your skin. “Please don't say anything—I... I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if I must, but please don't go.”

“Heeseung,” you try a second time, hitting him just a bit harder. He simply shakes his head, pulling you closer.

“Heeseung!” the third time, it's a whack to his head. “I can't breathe, you idiot!”

“Oh,” he breathes, finally letting go of you just enough that you can breathe normally again. “I'm sorry.”

“Stop apologising,” you glare at him, and he shrinks a little under the weight of it despite his size. “You'll have a lot of things to be sorry about later.”

He winces, nodding his head. “I know,” he admits, “and I want to make it up to you—really, I do. I'll do anything for it.” You raise an inquisitive eyebrow, and this time, it's your turn to stare blankly at him. “Really? Anything?”

He nods his head fervently. You stare at him a bit longer, and he sniffles. “Get rid of that stupid ramyeon mascot you carry around on your bag, for starters.”

He blinks once, twice, before frowning in confusion. “... You mean KooKoo?” You roll your eyes, nodding. “Yeah, I'm tired of competing with that stupid chicken for your love.” Heeseung blinks some more, flabbergasted, before he bursts into loud, free laughter, his shoulders shaking with the force of both it and the relief he feels. The sound of it has your lips quirking up as well, and before long, you're laughing with him too.

“Sure,” he wipes a tear from the corner of his eye, calming down. “What's next?”

You hum, pretending to think. “You take me on a date tomorrow.” He grins brightly. “Done. Next?”

“I'm not done with that date yet.” He tilts his head in that adorably confused way, and you huff out an amused chuckle, before pulling him down by his collar. “You take me to that date as my boyfriend, Mister Lee.”

“Yes to it all,” Heeseung breathes out, his eyes sparkling. “As long as you want me to.”

“Next...” you trail off, and he leans in closer to hear you better. “Kiss me. Properly. You've got four years to make up for, after all.”

His grin grows impossibly wider, before he's cupping your face in both hands—his skin warm against yours—and crushing his mouth against yours.

He kisses you like he's got a thousand things to tell you, but can't bring himself to say them out loud—so he pours it all into the way his lips move against yours and the way he holds you like you're his greatest treasure.

When he finally pulls away to let the two of you breathe, he rests his forehead against yours. “I hope you know that you're not getting rid of me any time soon, especially after that,” he whispers, and you roll your eyes playfully. “Wellll... That's gonna depend on your performance as my boyfriend, Mister Lee.”

Sea otters were a good choice from Heeseung, you'll admit. Not only were they cute, but they also formed pairs for life, and often stayed together as close companions for their entire lives. Something you know deep down, that you've looked forward to, ever since the first time you laid eyes on him in Classroom 1-A, as he slept on his desk, and took your heart with him.

“Well, in that case,” he grins again—with his real, heart-shaped smile this time—and leans in for a second time, capturing your lips in a sweet, gentle move that leaves you reeling, as he pulls away again, murmuring softly. “I'll just have to give you an award-winning performance, won't I?”

All you do to answer is pull him in for another kiss, and he laughs loud enough that you can feel it. One of his arms wraps around your waist, as his other one tangles into your hair, and when he finally reciprocates, everything finally feels right again.

The output you've wanted and waited for four long years appeared to be lost forever, thanks to a little bug that overrode your soulmate's romantic filters, but at the end of the day, there's nothing in a code that you can't fix with enough patience (and a fair bit of meddling from your friends).

Some things are lost in translation. Some in miscommunication, some in fights, and some to time. But luckily for you, you can show said output to the world loud and proud now.

Not everything remains lost in syntax forever, after all.

taglist: @kristynaaah @isa942572 @asa-is-acinggg @yethoughts @hueningsgirl @graythecoffeebean @tinyteezer @bluepains @b1tterestbeachh @neoculturewhat @sievenderz @ateez-atiny380 @jayjw16enxp @dearestdreamies @heeseungdada

[sunishake]

NO WAY BACK NOW ✦ lhs feat. pjs

Heeseung realizes that the moment he started missing the lunchboxes you used to make for him was the moment he lost you completely. There was no way back after that – because by then, your heart had already settled with the one who truly took care of it, while he had done nothing but hurt it, again and again.

pairing ➛ idol!heeseung x y/n x idol!jay

genre ➛ smau , angst , heeseung is a bitch , drama , fluff , romance , lovers to strangers

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐚𝐩𝐬 : I did pretty well for a proper smau debut :3 enjoyed it while it lasted, gonna miss this work sm :(( ... [ library ]

— CHAPTERS :

chapter 01

chapter 02

chapter 03

chapter 04

chapter 05

chapter 06

chapter 07

chapter 08 (final)

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO SUNISHAKE

[sunishake]

DARE me not ──── ✹ sjy

"I dare you to kiss me and keep it in your pants...hah! Get off me loser—"

vol 9 . — Y/n swears no one compares to Park Sunghoon. The campus heartthrob, department topper, and possibly her guardian angel. Her world spins on his orbit. Jake swears he can’t stand Y/n. She’s awkward, invisible, always leaving curly hair in his textbooks. He'd rather share a class with Tora, his flawless senior crush. Amongst the push and pull of unsaid words and obviously said insults they find their life getting tangled in bizarre way.

𖧧 ָ࣪ 𖧵ֹֺֽ໋໋݊ rom-com, angst, coming of age, enemies to lovers, college chaos, one-sided crushes, accidental friendship

note: I LOVE JAKE SM MWAH MWAH MWAHHGHCB

Y/n didn’t ask to fall in love with Park Sunghoon.

He just… kind of glowed. Even under those hideous fluorescent hallway lights, he looked like he walked out of a K-drama with pink aura, flower petals falling on him and was about to change someone's life with a smirk and a backhug. It was criminal, honestly.

She always walked three steps behind him on campus — not literally, but emotionally. Her eyes trailed him like a soft background music she couldn’t turn off. Hands busy to press down the disobedient folds of her unironed clothes, running fingers through her unruly coiled brown hair, trying to pull them to a more simpler straight form, biting her chapped lips and hoping if he ever turns around he would look at her big brown eyes and not the pre pubescent acne scars all over her cheeks.

He laughs and she looks up. He fixes his sleeves and she adjusts her breath. He sneezes once in the cafeteria and she, a devout atheist, thanks God.

Every day, Sunghoon nodded at her when she passed him by the vending machine. She lived for those nods.

“Can you stop staring at him like you’re writing Wattpad chapters in your head?” a voice muttered from her left. She didn’t even flinch it was always him. Jake Sim. The resident campus know it all, emotional cactus, and king of side eyes.

He was currently glaring at her like he’d just set his thesis on fire. Meh whatever.

“I wasn’t staring,” she whispered, straightening in her seat. “I was looking through him. Big difference.”

Jake scoffed. “You were drooling.”

She clutched your notebook, cheeks warm. “That’s just how I breathe.”

He muttered something under his breath, something with the words “hopeless” and “loser” in it. Jake sat diagonally behind her in class, but he made his presence very known. Every time she tripped on a chair or dropped her pen, she could feel his judgy laser beam eyes burning through her skull.

She was pretty sure he hated her. He was the only person who borrowed books from the library before they were assigned. He always had a pen in his hand, three tucked behind his ear, and he once asked the professor to recheck a paper because he got a 97.

Jake Sim was not normal.

But even he wasn't immune.

Because every time Tora walked into the lecture hall, second year, ethereal, angel of a kind. Jake turned into static.

She noticed it the first time Tora waved at someone across the room. Jake, who had been scribbling equations like his life depended on it, dropped his pen and didn’t even pick it up for a full five seconds.

Then, he turned crimson.

Y/n was stunned. Jake Sim, the emotionally unavailable nerd with the personality of a sock... blushed...?!

One day she couldn't keep quiet anymore and asked, “Do you like her or are you just clinically allergic to good looking people?”

Jake gave her a 'are you serious?' Look at her while adjusting his glasses. “I’d rather dissect my own brain with a spoon than explain anything to you.”

Classic.

Still, he had this very specific habit of fixing his hair every time Tora entered the room, so like… okay, sir. You’re not subtle either.

The first time Jake noticed y/n, she was untangling her headphones like it was a life or death situation. It was during one of those 9 AM lectures, where half of the class still smelled like sleep and the other half faked alertness with caffeine and borrowed notes. Jake, of course, sat at his usual spot, second row from the front, near the window, precisely five feet away from the only functioning plug point in the room. He had his laptop open, his glasses fogged from the humidity outside, and a new pimple forming under his jaw. Life was great.

And then there was her.

In the back row, left side. Hair like curly alphabet noodles spilling out of a careless ponytail, wearing a too big hoodie with a fraying cuff she kept picking at. Her face was mostly hidden behind books and the hood she tried to disappear into. Most people wouldn’t notice her.

He did.

Not because he wanted to. He just kept finding her hair.

There was a strand on his desk last week. Another stuck in the Velcro of his pencil pouch. One had somehow landed on his mechanical keyboard. He had theories. Maybe she shed like a cat. Maybe the wind liked her hair more than it liked gravity. Or maybe, just maybe, the universe was playing a cosmic joke on him.

He noticed, to her , Park Sunghoon was a walking sonnet. A poem in a pressed white shirt and neat handwriting.

She was, quite tragically in a coma.

Jake saw all this. The stolen glances. The quick head turns. The pathetic heart eyes she made at Sunghoon when she thought no one was watching. He wasn’t judging her. Okay — maybe a little. She just seemed so... awkward. Always tripping on her own shoes or spilling tea on her sleeves. And then sitting in silence like a background character who wasn’t sure if she had lines.

Jake didn’t dislike her. But he didn’t particularly like her either.

His attention was currently reserved for one person and one person only, Tora Choi.

Tora, the senior with the swanlike grace and poetic presence. She was always seen in floral tops, nude lipstick and blush blindness suited her. She read in the cafeteria. Voluntarily. She walked like the hallway belonged to her. Her voice had that musical lull of someone who probably spoke French at some point in her life.

Jake, who could barely remember to apply sunscreen, was hopelessly smitten. And every time Tora passed by their class, Jake transformed into a crash dummy blinking too much, straightening his hoodie, then immediately regretting straightening his hoodie. He was a wreck. A nerdy, overthinking, emotionally constipated wreck. One time, Tora had smiled in his direction. Jake had to go drink two bottles of cold water and recalibrate his breathing patterns.

So no, Jake did not have time for some hoodie-wearing backbencher who got nervous around her own shadow. And yet, there she was again, trying to open her juice box without spilling it across her notebook. He rolled his eyes so hard, he almost pulled a muscle.

Jake turned his gaze downward. He needed to stop doing this. Acting like a fool every time Tora acknowledged his existence. They’d known each other for years. She lived two houses down. They shared the same school bus in middle school. She once gave him cookies after a bad test. And yet, here he was, fully prepared to faint like a 19th century heroine at the sound of her voice.

“Alright,” Professor Lim said, finally entering the room with his usual stack of unreasonably annotated papers. “Let’s begin.”

Class moved slowly. Something about Plato and false narratives and truth within fiction. Y/N scribbled furiously, her wrist moving like a motor. Jake side eyed her again. It was like watching someone take notes for the entire student body. And it was annoying how she didn’t even blink when the professor cold called her.

“Y/n,” the senior professor drawled, pushing his glasses up. “You look like you’re writing a thesis on this. Tell me, what did Plato mean by the allegory of the cave?”

She froze. The room did not.

She opened her mouth. Closed it. Then stuttered out, “Um, it’s—it’s about like, uh, shadows? And reality not being real?”

Someone snorted in the back. Jake didn’t even need to turn to know it was probably the Huening twins. They always laughed the loudest at things that weren’t funny. Professor Lim smiled. Not kindly.

“How poetic. Truly. Shadows and reality and—what, dreams? Fascinating. For someone who apparently studies fourteen hours a day, I was expecting an actual answer.”

That got a laugh. A ripple across the classroom.

Jake winced.

Y/n ducked her head. Her curls framed her face, hiding the worst of the blow, but her ears were red. Crimson, actually. “Sit down,” the professor said, dismissively. “Sunghoon?”

Park Sunghoon stood up and delivered an articulate, practically textbook-perfect explanation. Of course he did. People clapped, even though no one was supposed to clap in this class. She did not lift her head.

Jake looked away, annoyed.

People like her were always weird about things. Cry in the bathroom, write poems in margins. Talk to pigeons. I bet anything she would write some cringe journal entry about this later with lines like “I bloomed like a wound in a world that hated weeds.”

God.

The period ended, and everyone began to shuffle out. Jake packed his things slowly, even as the class emptied. A part of him expected her to run, awkward girls always ran. But she didn’t. Y/n stayed glued to the chair, head ducked, fingers twitching at the hem of her sleeves. He watched her from the corner of his eye. She looked like a kicked dog.

A pathetic part of him wanted to feel something. Empathy maybe. Guilt. Even annoyance. But the only thing he felt was second hand embarrassment.

It made him want to walk faster just in case someone thought he might talk to her.

So he left.

Y/n looked at her shoes.

She always did. The world was easier to handle when it was reduced to soles and laces. Faces were harder. They held too many judgments, too many half-hidden sneers and raised brows. She didn’t stop walking until she reached the back staircase, the one nobody used much. It always smelled faintly of wet cement and the occasional cigarette. Here, she let her body fold against the wall, backpack slipping off her shoulder. It wasn’t the first time something like this had happened.

It wouldn’t be the last.

But that didn’t make it hurt less.

Y/n didn’t move from the back staircase for a while. The quiet was comfortable here, the hum of distant footsteps, the faint scent of damp concrete, the occasional echo from the hallway above. She could almost convince herself the rest of the world didn’t exist.

Almost.

When she finally pushed herself up and started toward the courtyard, voices drifted to her before she saw anyone. Laughter, high and light, like sunlight through a glass of water. She turned the corner and there they were. Tora stood in the middle of a loose circle of classmates, her shoulders slightly hunched in that modest way that somehow made her seem even softer. The light caught on her hair, turning it into strands of gold, and her lips shone with a faint, warm pink gloss. The color looked effortless, as if it had been made for her, the way flowers are made for spring.

Tora laughed at something one of the boys said, tilting her head, her voice carrying like a breeze.

She slowed her steps without meaning to. For a few moments, the noise around her faded, and she let herself slip into the kind of daydream she usually kept for late at night. If she had Tora’s gloss...that exact shade of dreamy pink would it make any difference? Would people look at her differently? Would they stop seeing her as the awkward, clumsy thing that tripped over her own sentences? She pressed her lips together lightly, then touched them with the tips of her fingers, as if testing the thought.

It was silly. Lip gloss couldn’t change bone structure or erase the history of every humiliation she’d collected. But still…

The sound of Tora’s laugh broke her trance, and she turned quickly, heading in the opposite direction before anyone could notice her lingering.

Exams crept closer like a slow moving storm, and with them came the strange transformation of the library. It became the campus’ unofficial capital. Every table claimed, books, matcha drinks , colorful highlighters scattered, every chair dragged into formation, the air heavy with the scent of paper and stress. Jake spent most of his days here now, his textbooks spread out like battle plans. He wasn’t the kind of student to normally invite company, but exam season brought a shift. People came to him for notes, for summaries, for diagrams, for the condensed wisdom of someone who actually paid attention in lectures. It stroked something in him, that small spark of pride. He liked the way they leaned over his notes, the way they asked questions in hushed voices, the way they looked at him like he was the difference between passing and failing.

He didn’t like, however, that Y/n was here too.

Every day, without fail, she sat at the table directly across from him.

It wasn’t like she was copying him or trying to talk. She never even looked up. But the fact that she stayed there, head bent over her books like she had any hope of understanding them, grated at him in some small, inexplicable way.

Jake figured that if anyone in this building needed notes, it would be her. She seemed like the type of student who’d take one look at an exam paper and forget everything she’d studied. And yet, she never asked. Not once.

It was almost offensive.

Did she think she didn’t need his help? Or was she just too awkward to ask? Either way, it didn’t make her look smarter. In Jake’s mind, it made her even more clueless than he’d thought.

By late afternoon, the library began to empty. People packed up their things in waves, leaving behind a faint, dusty silence. By five o’clock, only a handful of students remained. Jake was deep in his notes when he realized it had gotten too quiet. He glanced up and immediately paused. Y/n had slumped forward, her cheek resting against the crook of her arm, the edges of her notebook pressed beneath her. Her mouth hung slightly open, a tiny smudge of drool glistening in the corner.

Jake’s lips twitched before he could stop himself. A quiet snicker slipped out.

He leaned back in his chair, studying her. In sleep, the tension she carried like armor had fallen away. The curls that had been tied back this morning were now coming undone, framing her face in messy spirals. The late afternoon sun streamed through the tall windows, casting a golden light across her skin. It softened her, made her glow in a way he hadn’t noticed before. His eyes lingered on her cheeks, rounder than he’d realized, dusted faintly pink. For some absurd reason, he felt the urge to pinch them. He stopped fidgeting is pencil and caught off guard by the thought.

Before he could decide whether to act on it, she stirred. Maybe it was the weight of his stare or the faint scrape of his chair, but her eyelids fluttered open.

Her eyes met his.

Jake froze.

Up close, they weren’t the dull brown he’d lazily assumed from across the table. They were deep, warm, flecked with something lighter a kind of amber that caught the sunlight like liquid. For a split second, the air between them shifted, like someone had pulled a string taut.

Her expression flickered from confusion to alarm. She sat up abruptly, wiping at her mouth with the back of her sleeve. “I—sorry,” she said, voice low, as if she’d done something wrong by existing in his line of sight.

Before Jake could think of anything to say, she was already stuffing her notes into her bag. Her movements were quick, jerky, like she couldn’t get away fast enough.

He watched her walk out, the library door swinging shut behind her.

For a moment, he just sat there, staring at the spot she’d left empty. Then he realized his heartbeat was the only thing he could hear now.

Y/n rarely went to the mall.

The polished floors, air-conditioned coolness, and distant hum of chatter felt oddly comforting. But malls were for people who knew what they were doing, who walked with purpose, who knew which store sold the best lip gloss or where to find the perfect shade of blush. And she was definitely not one of those people. Still, here she was, standing in front of the largest display of lip products she’d ever seen in her life. Rows upon rows of tubes glistened under the warm studio lights pinks, reds, browns, corals, sheens, mattes, shimmers. Each one looked like it had been made for someone else, someone who knew how to choose.

Her fingers hovered over a pale peach shade before she quickly withdrew them. She didn’t even know what “undertones” meant. It wasn’t like she hated makeup, or was too lazy to try, she just…. never had anyone to guide her. Tutorials online always felt like they were in another language.

She was so caught up in the silent war between her curiosity and insecurity that she didn’t notice the tall figure walking toward her until she bumped into him.

“Oh— sorry—” she mumbled, stepping back.

“Y/n?”

Her head snapped up. Park Sunghoon stood there, holding a small gift bag. His sharp features softened into a polite smile, and just like that, her brain promptly stopped working. “S–Sunghoon… hi,” she stammered, her voice a pitch too high.

Before she could recover, another voice cut in. “Oh, it’s you.”

Jang Wonyoung appeared from behind him, glossy hair cascading over her shoulders like she’d stepped straight out of a commercial. She wasn’t smiling exactly, her lips were curved, but it was the kind of sweetness that stung.

“What’s a nerd like you doing here?” Wonyoung’s tone was light, teasing, but the edge was sharp enough to draw blood. “Finally thinking about a glow-up?”

Y/n felt her face burn. She gave a small, awkward laugh, trying to shrink into herself. But then… an idea.

Maybe this was her chance “Um… actually, I was looking for a lip gloss,” she admitted, fidgeting with the strap of her bag. “Do you think… you could help me pick one?”

Wonyoung blinked, clearly not expecting her to ask. Her gaze slid briefly to Sunghoon, who was distracted, scanning a rack of accessories nearby. With a faint shrug, she pointed lazily toward a tube on the far end of the shelf , a bright, almost blinding shade of fuchsia.

“This one,” she said absently, already turning away.

Y/n didn’t know much about makeup, but she knew that shade probably wasn’t for her. Still, the idea that Wonyoung, tall, radiant, effortlessly beautiful Wonyoung had chosen it made her chest swell with something close to pride. “I’ll take it,” she murmured, clutching the tube like it was a secret key to some prettier, better version of herself.

Sunghoon turned back then, a small box now in his hand. “Birthday gift for my sister,” he explained casually to Y/n, his voice warm. It made her throat tighten.

“that’s so nice,” she replied, and she meant it. But Wonyoung was already stepping forward, looping her arm through his. “We should get going,” she announced, her tone lighter now. “Don’t want to be late.”

Late for what? Y/n wondered. A date? The thought made her stomach twist, even though she knew Sunghoon was probably just being polite. Before she could say anything else, Wonyoung gave her one last honeyed smile the kind that didn’t reach her eyes and steered Sunghoon away.

She stood there for a moment, staring at the empty space they’d left behind. Then, with the kind of fragile happiness that blooms from the smallest scraps, she walked to the counter and bought the gloss Wonyoung had chosen.

She imagined herself wearing it tomorrow, maybe catching Sunghoon’s attention in the hallway. Maybe he’d notice. Maybe he’d smile. Clutching the tiny shopping bag like it held something far more precious than a tube of lip gloss, she made her way home, her heart just a little lighter than when she’d left.

Jake lay sprawled across his bed, one arm flung over his eyes, the other holding his phone loosely. The room was quiet except for the low hum of the AC, but his mind wouldn’t shut up.

It was her again. Stupid curls, boring acne scared chubby cheeks. Dumb Y/n.

Those big brown eyes of hers, wide, unguarded, that seemed to hold onto everything and nothing at once had been stuck in his head ever since that afternoon in the library. And it wasn’t the first time she was terrorising his consciousness.

He remembered the first time he’d noticed her, though he would never admit it to anyone. It was months ago, when he’d opened his physics textbook and found a few stray strands of curly hair tangled between the pages. She had been sitting at the desk before him that day, and somehow, that tiny trace of her had followed him home. He’d tossed the hair away, but the image stuck.

Then there were the stupid games his classmates played. Heeseung and Jay once teased each other over a lost bet, saying the punishment would be kissing Y/n. The way they laughed, loud, careless had made something in Jake twist uncomfortably, though he’d masked it with a smirk. He never knew why he was always there when she was getting clowned on. Always in the background, watching like a default backgroundcharacter. Like the universe was making sure he saw it every time.

Y/n was… ridiculous. Clumsy, socially awkward, stuck in her head more than the real world. Stupid. Dumb. Weird. He told himself that a lot, like a shield. Because why would she have a crush on someone like Park Sunghoon?

Jake knew for a fact Sunghoon didn’t care about her. The guy barely looked at her in the hallways. And yet, every time Jake caught Y/n gazing at Sunghoon with that soft, almost stupid smile that said she was somewhere far away in her head, something hot and ugly flared in his chest. It made him want to shake her and yell, No one cares. He doesn’t care. Stop looking at him like that.

But that would mean admitting he cared.

And somewhere, deep under all the annoyance, he understood her. Because Jake was a nobody too. He only admitted it when he was alone, but it was the truth. He wasn’t the guy girls like Tora noticed. She was too far out of his reach, and he knew it. That’s why he’d always turn around before entering the same room as her, easier to avoid the humiliation than face it.

So maybe that’s why Y/n bothered him so much. There was something reckless in the way she still dared to dream about someone like Sunghoon. Something he couldn’t do. And every time he saw her try even silently, even just with her eyes — it reminded him of how much of a coward he was.

His fragile ego hated that. So he did what he was best at, he cursed her in his head, turned her into a joke. It made him feel like he was the one in control.

Except now, lying in the dim glow of his bedroom, he wasn’t so sure he had control over anything.

Because why the hell was he thinking about her again? Why was it her face replaying in his mind and not Tora’s?

A thought crept in, uninvited, unsteady. Do I… like her?

Jake sat up abruptly, as if that would make the thought fall out of his head. He grabbed the AC remote and dropped the temperature from twenty four to sixteen, the cold air hitting him sharp and fast. Still, his skin felt warm. Too warm. He reached for his phone, fingers tapping before he could think about it

' can you like 2 girls at once '

The search results were instant, a flood of half baked answers and random forum threads. Some were serious long paragraphs about “emotional compatibility” and “differentiating infatuation from genuine affection.” Others were… not.

One comment caught his eye

' kiss one of them and find out lol, good luck bro '

He scoffed under his breath but for some reason, the words didn’t leave his head. Instead, his mind supplied an image he hadn’t asked for: leaning in toward Y/n, close enough to see the flecks of gold in her eyes, close enough to—

Jake froze.

It was like his brain had defaulted to her, skipping past Tora entirely. The image was so clear, so vivid, that his chest tightened and heat crept up the back of his neck.

What the hell?

His body felt suddenly restless, energy sparking through his limbs. He shoved his face into his pillow and let out a muffled, frustrated groan. The cold air from the AC blasted over him, but it didn’t matter. His skin still burned. He pulled the pillow away, staring up at the ceiling like it might give him an answer.

“What the fuck am I doing?”

The next morning, Y/n walked into campus with a thin layer of glossy pink shimmering on her lips. At least, it was supposed to be pink on her, it looked a little off. Too pale, almost like she’d just eaten something greasy and forgot to wipe her mouth. A couple of girls near the gates noticed instantly. They leaned toward each other, trying to stifle their laughter, their voices pitched low but not low enough.

“Is she serious?”

“It’s… not her shade.”

“Poor thing.”

They weren’t being cruel exactly, if anything, their tone carried a hint of pity but Y/n still felt the sting. She walked past them with her usual downward gaze, eyes fixed on the ground, hands gripping the strap of her bag.

Still, she kept the gloss on.

She even timed her route to pass the bench where Sunghoon usually sat before first lecture. Sure enough, there he was, leaning back casually, scrolling through his phone. Her heart rate picked up, her fingers twitching at her sides. She tilted her chin just enough for the light to catch on her lips, waiting for him to glance up.

He didn’t.

Not even a flicker of his gaze in her direction.

Her chest tightened. She kept walking.

It wasn’t until she reached the corridor that someone else’s attention caught her off guard.

Jake.

He was leaning against the wall near the library entrance, arms crossed, his gaze flicking toward her as she passed. For a moment, she thought she’d imagined it but no, he was looking right at her mouth. Her lips to be exact...

That looks so ugly, Jake grimaced, the words sharp in his head.

But even as he told himself that, his eyes lingered longer than they should. He didn’t know why. Something about it — about her looked different. Wrong shade or not, it was still a change. And not in a bad way.

By the time Y/n sat down in the library later that day, she’d mostly forgotten about him noticing. It was the same as every other afternoon she took the seat across from Jake, opened her books, and they didn’t speak. They never spoke. Until he cleared his throat.

She looked up, startled, her brows knitting slightly. “That shade looks hideous on you,” Jake said flatly, not bothering to soften the words.

There was no flicker of offense in her face. No glare, no muttered insult in return. Instead, Y/n’s eyes softened into something almost apologetic, big, round, and too trusting. Without saying a word, she dug into her bag, pulled out a tissue, and began wiping the gloss off.

Jake blinked in disbelief.

“You’re just… gonna take it off?” he asked, almost incredulous. She gave a small sheepish shrug. “I knew it didn’t look good. I just… wanted Sunghoon to notice.”

Her voice was quiet, matter of fact. Not even embarrassed, just… honest. Jake leaned back in his chair, staring at her for a moment. Was she actually this dense? Or just that straightforward? Either way, it made his chest feel weird. He exhaled through his nose, dragging a hand down his face. “I know someone who can help you. With makeup, I mean.”

Y/n’s head lifted instantly. “Really?”

The change in her was almost blinding, her whole expression lit up, like someone had just turned on a light inside her. Jake felt something in his chest jolt. His palms were suddenly warm.

“Yeah,” he muttered, forcing his gaze back to his notebook. “My high school friend, Sunoo. He’s doing a makeup course now.”

He scribbled a number on a sticky note and slid it across the table. She took it delicately, as if it were something valuable. “Thank you,” she said, her voice so genuinely grateful it made his ears burn. “You’re… so kind and helpful.” Before he could respond, she reached into her bag again and placed something small on his desk, a strawberry lollipop, still wrapped in shiny pink plastic.

“For you,” she said simply, before saving Sunoo’s number in her phone.

Jake stared at the candy for a second too long. It wasn’t anything special. But the fact that it came from her the fact that she’d felt the need to give him something in return made warmth creep up his neck. The rest of the study session passed without another word between them, but when Jake left the library, the lollipop was in his pocket. He didn’t even like strawberry flavor, but he couldn’t bring himself to throw it away.

Walking home, he realized he was smiling. It curled slowly at the corners of his mouth and stayed there, refusing to fade.

She had called him kind. She had thanked him.

And for some stupid reason, that meant more to him than it should have.

It was a breezy Saturday afternoon when Y/n finally met Sunoo in person. They’d exchanged a few texts since Jake gave her his number, but now, standing in the bustling makeup aisle of sephora, she realized how different he was from anyone she’d ever met. Sunoo radiated energy that could light up a dead room in seconds. His hands moved almost as fast as his mouth, pointing at palettes, testing swatches on the back of his hand, tapping his chin dramatically when something didn’t meet his standards.

Y/n, in contrast, followed him quietly, clutching a small basket. Every now and then, he’d glance over and beam at her as if they’d known each other for years.

“You,” Sunoo said, holding up a lip tint like it was a rare jewel, “need this. Perfect undertone, won’t wash you out, and—” He leaned forward conspiratorially. “—it’ll make you look expensive.”

She blinked. “Expensive?”

“Like you drink overpriced coffee and ghost people after two dates,” he teased.

Y/n stifled a laugh. “I… don’t think I could pull that off.”

“Yes, you can. Leave it to me.”

Over the next hour, Sunoo guided her through every essential, the right foundation shade, a soft blush that wouldn’t make her look sunburnt, mascara that lengthened but didn’t clump, and, most importantly, glosses that didn’t resemble cooking oil. He didn’t oversell. He didn’t overwhelm. It was just the right products, the right shades, in the right amounts.

When they finally stepped out of the store, Y/n’s bag was neatly packed with her small but perfect starter kit.

“I’ll make a demo video for you,” Sunoo said as they strolled down the sidewalk. “My classes are insane right now no break except weekends but I’ll send it online. And if you’re lost or stuck, video call me anytime. Even if I’m in the middle of dinner.” Her chest warmed. “Thank you… seriously, thank you so much.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he said with a playful smirk. “Wait until people start staring at you in the cafeteria.”

They ducked into a cozy café afterward, settling into a booth by the window. The air smelled faintly of cinnamon and espresso, and Sunoo wasted no time launching into his stories. He told her about college, the good professors, the terrible ones, the one classmate who ate pickles during lectures. Then he spiraled into his high school years, his brief but dramatic dating history, and somewhere between a rant about cafeteria food and a tangent about a professor’s bad haircut, a familiar name slipped into the conversation.

Jake.

Y/n perked up instantly. “You know Jake from high school?” “Know him? We were in the same class for three years,” Sunoo said, stirring his iced latte lazily. “Jake was always… well, Jake. Smart, yes. But unnecessarily cold and introverted. Like he thought speaking to people would take years off his life.”

She tried to picture him that way. Cold, yes. Introverted, yes. But smart? Somehow, that made sense.

“Don’t tell him I said that,” Sunoo grinned wickedly.

Y/n giggled, and Sunoo, seeing her reaction, leaned back in his seat like he’d accomplished something. “But to be fair, he’s always been the kind of person who helps quietly. Never flashy, never asking for anything in return.”

She tilted her head, curious.

“There was this time in high school,” Sunoo went on, his tone softening, “when I used to get bullied by some senior boys. You know, for being ‘too feminine’ for a guy. Jake… he didn’t say much, but he always showed up. Sat next to me, walked me to class, made sure they backed off. He’s probably the reason I didn’t lose my mind that year.” The words sat heavy in Y/n’s mind. Her fingers curled around her cup as she remembered the library, Jake sliding Sunoo’s number toward her.

Jake was… actually cute. Not in the obvious, polished way Sunghoon was of course...

Sunoo, however, wasn’t done. “Has Jake ever said anything that hurt your feelings?” he asked suddenly, raising an eyebrow.

Her lips twitched into a pout before she could stop herself. “He… probably hates me. The way he looks at me sometimes—” She scrunched her nose, mimicking his signature disgusted expression. “It’s like I’m a bug on his desk.” Sunoo threw his head back and laughed. “Oh no, that’s not hate.”

“It’s not?”

“That’s his coping mechanism.”

She blinked. “…Coping for what?”

“For existing near people without combusting, obviously,” Sunoo smirked.

Y/n tilted her head, unconvinced. Sunoo leaned forward across the table, his eyes glinting like he was about to share a state secret. “Next time he says or does something annoying…” He paused for dramatic effect.

“…look him dead in the eye and say...........”

Her eyes went wide before a burst of laughter escaped her, so sudden she had to cover her mouth. Sunoo grinned triumphantly. “Oh, I like that laugh. Keep it. Use it on him, too — it’ll drive him insane.”

She wiped at the corner of her eyes, still chuckling. “You’re evil.”

“I’m effective,” he corrected with a wink.

The next week, Y/n followed Sunoo’s advice down to the smallest detail.

No glitter, no mismatched tones, just a light sweep of blush, a touch of mascara, and soft nude pink gloss that caught light in a way that looked effortless. It was the first time in a long while she walked into the building without feeling the need to check her reflection twice. Most people didn’t seem to notice. Her classmates breezed past her as usual, heads down, mid conversation about weekend plans or exam dates.

But Jake noticed.

He noticed from the second she stepped into the lecture hall. His eyes followed the curve of her cheek when she turned her head, the subtle shine on her lips, the faint curl in her hair.

And he hated himself for noticing.

Because then he noticed something else, the way her eyes, big and almost shy, sought out one person in particular.

Sunghoon.

Jake had seen that look before. Soft. Hopeful. Like she was waiting for something she never got. And when Sunghoon didn’t even bother to look her way, Jake’s jaw clenched so hard it ached. By the time the class ended, his frustration had reached a low, simmering boil. He wasn’t even sure if it was aimed at her for looking at Sunghoon like that… or at Sunghoon for not looking back. He left the lecture hall without waiting for anyone, cutting through the east wing toward his next class, Modern Literature. The one he shared with Tora.

His mind was a mess.

He didn’t know what he felt anymore.

Maybe this was it. Maybe he needed to talk to Tora, clear the air, tell her exactly how he felt so he could stop spiraling like this. Stop whatever this was with Y/n. When he pushed open the classroom door, it looked empty at first. He stepped inside, adjusting the strap of his bag and froze.

Tora wasn’t alone.

She was against the far wall, kissing a guy Jake vaguely recognized from class...Jay? His arm was braced above her head, her hand resting lightly on his chest like they’d done this before. The sound in Jake’s head went sharp and white, like static. He didn’t move. Didn’t say anything. Just stood there long enough for his stomach to twist into something unrecognizable before turning on his heel. His breath was uneven as he slipped out into the hallway, shutting the door as quietly as if he’d never been there. He didn’t want them to know. Didn’t want her to know.

He walked without thinking until his feet carried him to the one place on campus where no one usually went the back staircase.

Except someone was already there.

Y/n stood leaning against the far wall, her bag still slung over her shoulder, fingers fidgeting with the strap. Her posture was awkward, like she hadn’t decided whether she wanted to leave or stay. Jake stopped halfway down the steps. “…Seriously?”

She looked up.

“This is my spot,” he said flatly, moving down the last few steps. “I’ve been coming here for years.”

She huffed. “Your spot? Pretty sure the building belongs to the university, not Jake Sim.”

“Well, you’re in it,” he shot back.

She crossed her arms. “So what, I should just leave because you said so?”

“Yeah. Exactly that.”

They stared at each other, the silence thickening in the narrow stairwell. He could see it now, her eyes slightly puffy like she’d been holding back something all day, the way her mouth pressed into a thin line. “What happened to you?” he asked, before he could stop himself.

Her gaze flickered away. “Nothing.”

It wasn’t nothing. Not with the way her voice dipped at the end.

Truth was, she tried her best to get Sunghoon’s attention today, same as always. But instead of meeting her halfway, he hadn’t spared her a glance. And to make things worse, Wonyoung had said something cutting loud enough for a few people to hear, sharp enough to make them laugh. Sunghoon had been there. He had laughed too. Not cruelly, maybe, but enough to sting.

She came here to shake it off. To hide where no one could see her face and apparently, Jake didn’t count as “no one.”

“Look,” she muttered, “I’m not moving. You’re not moving. Let’s just… not talk.”

Fine.

Jake didn’t feel like talking either.

They both sank into their usual defensive positions. Her leaning against the wall, him dropping onto the last step, elbows braced on his knees. For a while, it stayed quiet. Just the distant echo of voices from the hall, the hum of pipes in the wall.

But Jake’s gaze wandered despite himself.

He noticed the way her curls framed her face today, soft and light. The faint sheen on her nose when the sunlight caught it. The way her lashes, longer than he’d realized, brushed her cheek when she blinked. And her lips —

He looked away fast, swallowing. It hit him all at once, the hollow in his chest wasn’t from Tora kissing someone else. That hadn’t hurt the way he’d expected it to. What hurt was this. Sitting here, looking at Y/n, and feeling something twist tight in his gut without knowing what the hell to call it. And maybe that’s why the words slipped out, sharper than he meant.

“Stop creeping out Sunghoon like you want to kiss him every time he looks at you. Maybe that’s when he’ll finally notice you.”

Her head snapped toward him. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

She let out a long, slow sigh that carried exhaustion more than anger. “It’s none of your business who I kiss or not.” He leaned back, crossing his arms. “Who would kiss you anyway?”

The jab landed and she turned at him properly “I dare you to kiss me,” she said, voice steady. “And keep it in your pants… hah! Get off, loser” tone carrying out exactly how Sunoo taught her.

Jake was star struck.

Her tone wasn’t flirty. It wasn’t shy. It was daring that prickled under his skin, made his pulse trip. His eyes flicked to her lips again, unbidden. She was still looking at him like she knew exactly what she’d just done — and maybe she did. Neither of them moved closer, but the air felt heavier now, charged.

His throat was dry, and his chest felt too tight, and for once, he didn’t have a quick retort. Somewhere above them, footsteps echoed in the stairwell. The spell broke.

She looked away first, brushing a curl behind her ear like nothing had happened. “Thought so.” Jake forced a scoff, though it came out weaker than he wanted. “You wish.” But when he left the staircase a few minutes later, his ears were burning. And for the first time, he wasn’t sure who had actually won.

Over the next two weeks, it became a pattern. He bumped into her in any way possible. It was almost like someone set a love trap for them in every corner of the university.

Vending machine. Library staircase. The cramped little photocopying room. He’d turn a corner and she’d be there, half-flinching like she’d been caught somewhere she wasn’t supposed to be. It was never intentional.

At first, Jake chalked it up to campus being small.

Then… he started wondering if it was something else. By the time exams were over, Jake had a strange, simmering awareness of her. He told himself it was just because she was everywhere, like an inconvenient shadow. But there were moments, fleeting, uninvited where he caught himself watching the way she brushed curls out of her face, or how she always chewed her lip before answering a professor’s question.

He liked it.

He liked the feeling of noticing her, the way it made something unfamiliar twist inside him. It was addictive almost.

Yeonjun’s parties were legendary. Not as wild in the way movies liked to exaggerate though there was always a flood of alcohol and at least one person crying in the bathroom and everyone wanted to be there. He was rich, charming, and the type of host who remembered your drink preference even if you’d only mentioned it once in passing.

So when his “End of Semester Blowout” invite dropped into the group chats, the campus might as well have been issued a mandatory attendance order. Jake didn’t care much for big gatherings, but Heeseung convinced him.

“You need to loosen up,” he said. “Besides, everyone’s gonna be there. You don’t want people thinking you’re hiding.” That last part was bait, and Jake knew it but he went anyway. The house was glowing when they arrived. Lights looped across the fence and up the porch railing, music thumped low from somewhere inside, and the smell of something sugary and alcoholic hit Jake as soon as they stepped through the door.

There were clusters of people on couches, leaning against kitchen counters, spilling onto the backyard deck.

Laughter and music blended into a dizzying haze.

Jake spotted her almost immediately.

Y/n was standing near the living room’s edge, a drink in hand, talking to a girl from their department.

She looked… different.

Her usual boring hoodie was replaced with something softer, still pastel, but the fabric caught the light in a way that made her seem almost luminous. Glossed lips, loose curls falling over her shoulder and yet, she still stood with her weight shifted back, as though ready to retreat at the first sign of trouble. He told himself he was just observing.

Noticing, because noticing was unavoidable in a place this crowded.

And yet, every time he moved through the room, his gaze found her again.

The spin the bottle game started in the den. It was Nicholas’s idea, which meant it was guaranteed to be just cruel enough to keep people entertained. Jake didn’t sit down to play. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching the circle form on the rug. Bottles were always dangerous things in rooms full of bored college students.

It started harmlessly.

Two people kissed, everyone whooped, someone took a shot.

Then the bottle spun and landed on Y/n and Sunghoon. Her name rippled through the group like a lit fuse.

Someone giggled.

“Lucky draw, Sunghoon!” another voice teased.

Jake’s eyes narrowed. Sunghoon’s brows shot up. “What?” “She’s a virgin, right?” someone else chimed in. “Careful, man.”

The laughter that followed was sharp edged, the kind that made Jake’s stomach knot. Y/n’s cheeks were already pink, but she smiled, that tiny, brittle smile she wore when she wanted to pretend words didn’t sting.

Sunghoon didn’t lean in.

He shook his head, still smiling like it was a joke, and said, “Nah. I’ll pass.”

The room erupted laughter, mock groans, a couple of “Oooooh, burn!”s.

Jake didn’t join in. Neither did Y/n. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. It should’ve ended there.

But Nicholas, grinning like a cat who’d cornered something small and trembling, said, “Hey, I’ve got an idea. Why don’t she kiss Jake? Both losers. Perfect match, right?” The laughter this time was louder. A chorus of ooohs and do it, do it! filled the room.

Jake’s jaw tightened. It wasn’t just the whole setting.It was the way they said it, the glee in watching someone flinch.

Y/n didn’t even try to laugh it off this time. Her throat bobbed, and her eyes darted to the floor.Then she stood too quickly and slipped through the crowd.

Jake pushed off the wall before he’d even decided what he was doing.The air outside was cooler, but she wasn’t slowing down. He followed the sound of her footsteps down the street until she stopped under a flickering streetlamp.

“Y/n,” he called.

She didn’t turn.

Only when he caught up and gently grabbed her wrist did she look at him. Her head jerked back toward him, eyes wide, but not startled.

More… tired.

Tiredness from carrying the weight of other people’s words for too long.

“Y/n—”

“Let go.”

Her voice wasn’t sharp, just flat.

Jake didn’t.

Instead, he stepped around her so she had to stop. The streetlamp above them flickered once, buzzing faintly, casting light and shadow across her face in unsteady intervals. He didn’t have a speech prepared. Didn’t know why his chest felt too tight, or why the thought of her walking away made him feel like he was missing something crucial.

“I’m… sorry,” he said, and the words felt strange in his mouth. Her brows pulled together, just slightly, before she forced a small, practiced smile.

“Why are you saying sorry?”

He opened his mouth and closed it again. Because what was he supposed to say?

Sorry that people are assholes? Sorry I didn’t stop them sooner? Sorry I didn’t punch Nicholas in the throat? Sorry that I… noticed you tonight more than I’ve noticed anyone else?

Instead, he just stood there. And in the space between them, he noticed the tremor in her hand where his fingers still rested. She was shaking, he felt it when he shifted his grip, thumb brushing her knuckles.

“Hey,” he said quietly, tugging her closer. Not enough to close all the distance, but enough that she had to tilt her head up to look at him.

Her eyes were glassy in the half-light.

And for a moment, he thought she was going to laugh on herself, that deflective humor she always used when things got too real.

Instead, she whispered, “Do you think I’m… that ugly?” It hit him like a sucker punch.

He blinked, certain he’d misheard. But she was still looking at him, searching his face like she expected him to confirm it “listen I—”

“I know I look ugly, okay?” she cut in, voice starting to wobble.

“I know I’m a loser, and no amount of makeup can fix me, but....I wanna be loved too.”

She didn’t say it with drama.

She breathed out the word that had been stuck in her throat as a lump for so long, her voice worn thin at the edges. And Jake who had always had something to say, some sharp remark or savage comment couldn’t find anything. Nothing that wouldn’t sound pathetic or wrong.

“Y/n, stop… please.” His voice cracked halfway through, and he hated that she might’ve heard it.

She took a shaky step back, pulling against his grip, but he didn’t let go. “Go away, Jake. You were right, I was infact creeping him out...for someone who knows how to embarrass myself in every moment I don’t deserve Sunghoon, I don't deserve you. I’m not stupid — I know you don’t like me, so you don’t have to pity me—”

Her words died when he closed the space between them in one step. He pulled her in gently, movements slow, deliberate, that gave her every chance to push him away. One hand slid to her hip, fingers curling loosely against the fabric there. The other still held her wrist, and now, with careful pressure, he guided it upward until her palm rested flat against his chest. She felt it immediately

the heat under his shirt, the quick, uneven rhythm of his heartbeat.

Her breathing stuttered.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew she could’ve pulled away. But her fingers stayed splayed against him, feeling the thud of his pulse. Jake’s eyes were locked on hers. Not scanning, not drifting, just there, unwavering, like he had finally decided to stop looking anywhere else. When he leaned in, it wasn’t to kiss her.

Not yet.

He pressed his forehead to hers, and she felt the faint brush of his breath against her lips. His voice was low, almost a restraint whisper.

“Don’t dare me to kiss you so hard ” he murmured, “that you fall on your knees right here.”

What the fuck.

Her mind was a blur, throat painfully dry, chest tight, and pulse pounded so loudly in ears it nearly drowned out the silence around them. The street was still, the flickering lamplight catching on the faint glimmer of her teary eyes. She absolutely swore that throwing herself into Jake’s arms and kissing him until the world stopped spinning was the only solution that made sense right now. The air between them was loaded, fragile. No words, just the sound of their breathing, soft, uneven, a little hesitant. Somewhere between that and the erratic rhythm of their hearts, something unspoken was pulling them closer.

Jake could feel it too. The weight of her hand still pressed against his chest, the warmth of her body just inches from his. His brain was screaming at him to move, to say something, to do anything, but his mouth was frozen. The only thought looping through his head was ' I’m done for. '

But he didn’t regret a single word he had said. Not one. If anything, he wished he’d said more. Her shoulders, which had been trembling moments before, softened under his hold. The tension slowly bled out of her body, and before Jake could register what was happening, she tilted her chin up ever so slightly.

Her lips brushed his in a fleeting, tentative touch, a peck. It lasted less than a second.

But to Jake, it might as well have been an eternity. His stomach twisted, a strange cocktail of adrenaline and warmth shooting through him so violently he swore he heard fireworks in the distance. His knees felt weak, almost gelatinous, and his chest… God, his chest was a mess of chaotic thumping that felt both unbearable and addicting. She pulled back instantly, her face flaming red. “I—sorry, Jake, I—” She stammered over the words, her voice shaking. “You’re—I couldn’t stop myself—”

Her eyes darted downward, avoiding his entirely as she stared at the tips of her shoes, biting her lip like she was about to spiral into a full blown panic. The night air nipped at her cheeks, but she was too flustered to notice.

thump

Her head shot up.

Jake was no longer standing in front of her instead he was on the ground, sprawled out on the cold pavement, the faintest dazed look on his face as if the kiss had knocked the last coherent thought straight out of his skull. “Jake?!” Her voice pitched higher, panic flooding her veins. She dropped to her knees beside him, gripping his shoulder.

He blinked once. Twice. Then a slow, lazy smile tugged at his lips. “fucking finally,” he mumbled, almost dreamily, before letting his head fall back again.

Y/n’s jaw dropped, her heart doing flips she didn’t know were possible.

Her nemesis, apparently, had just passed out from a kiss.

“Oh my GOD. OH. MY. GOD. Did you kill him? ”

The moment she answered, her eardrums were assaulted by Sunoo’s high pitched voice and she held the phone an inch away from her ear.

"About that....well..." she blushed, a small giggle escaping her lips.

“You KISSED him and the man collapsed like a Victorian widow! This is literally better than any drama I’ve watched!” Y/n groaned, dragging her hand down her face. “It wasn’t—stop making it sound like—ugh—it was just a peck!”

“That’s the point!” Sunoo howled through the line. “A peck did that to him! What’s he gonna do when you—” He cut himself off, letting out a scandalized gasp. “No, actually, don’t tell me. I’m pure.” She rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the laugh that slipped out. “You’re the farthest thing from pure.”

“True,” Sunoo admitted without shame. “But please, you have to tell me if he passes out again. I’ll start bringing smelling salts to campus.” She hung up before he could escalate further, tossing her phone onto the bed while letting out a scream mixed somewhere between highschool girls finally kissing their crashes and a breakdown.

Somehow, despite the chaos of that night, she and Jake slipped back into their usual dynamic.

If you could call it “usual” anymore. The insults were still there. He still called her a loser every other day, and she still found new, creative ways to tell him he looked like a dog when he stared at her pretending to look at the white board. But there was something different in the way their banter lingered now like their words were a thin veil over something neither of them wanted to name just yet. Sometimes she’d catch him staring at her from across the cafeteria. Not the hostile, “I’m trying to figure out if I hate you” staring from before, this was softer, distracted, like he’d forgotten anyone else existed.

And sometimes, when they were alone between classes, their arguments didn’t end with just throwing insults. They ended with him backing her into the wall, his mouth on hers, five whole minutes of kissing like the world was going to end before the next lecture.

“You’re still annoying,” Jake mumbled between kisses, his hand sliding to the back of her neck.

“You’re still a loser,” she shot back, breathless, not moving away.

“Yeah?” he smirked, brushing his lips against hers again. “Guess we’re perfect for each other then.”

It was ridiculous. It was stupid. And yet… they didn’t hate it.

Sunghoon and Tora were… well, they were still there, somewhere on campus. But to Y/N and Jake, they had become distant memories. They were still losers, by most social standards. Jake still made enemies with professors for making them check his answer sheets 5 times. Y/n still found new ways to trip over her own shoelaces in public. But being losers together somehow made college feel less like a battlefield.

Sometimes they wondered when exactly things had shifted between them. Was it that night on the street? The moment his forehead pressed to hers? Or maybe even before that when they were still pretending to dont know each other but kept finding themselves in the same places anyway. None of them didn’t seem too interested in figuring it out either. He just kept showing up sometimes with coffee, sometimes with sarcastic remarks, sometimes with both.

One morning, as they walked to class together, she bumped his shoulder.

“You know, if anyone saw us, they might think we actually like each other.”

He smirked. “Let’s not ruin my reputation like that.”

She snorted. “Your reputation’s already trash.”

“Yeah,” he said, glancing at her with that infuriating softness in his eyes. “But it’s our trash.”

And for the first time since she’d set foot on campus, Y/N realized she wasn’t counting the days until the semester ended.

College was still exhausting. People still made snide comments sometimes. But now, she had someone to sit with during boring lectures, someone to sneak off with for five stolen minutes, someone to laugh with when they both inevitably embarrassed themselves in front of the entire class.

They weren’t perfect. Far from it. But they were in this together.

Two losers, making it work.

THE END

©sunishake

[sunishake]

BAD REPUTATION ✦ sjy

After your best friend is left heartbroken by the infamous campus legend Jake Sim, you make it your mission to teach him a lesson — the one he won’t forget until he’s practically begging for forgiveness. What starts as a simple plan quickly spirals into chaos, pulling you into a web of complications you never saw coming. Lines begin to blur, intentions get messy, and you realize things aren’t as black and white as they seemed. After all, a bad reputation is a heavy burden to carry on both ends, isn’t it?

content tags: tooth rotting miscommunication, enemies to enemies, y/n is the bitch we all aspire to be, angst, mid ass slow burn, college au, emotional turmoil, long ass fic, crack, blonde jake, campus romance (?), fake relationship, heejake if you squint.

# 1 shots

You and Chaerin had been inseparable for as long as you could remember, or at least that was the version of the story you held onto.

Same neighborhood which turned into same classrooms, same whispered gossip during lectures, same shared lunches when neither of you liked what your mothers packed. High school came and went with the same confidence that you would always orbit each other, and even now, in college, despite being in different courses, you still found your way back to the samecramped dorm room at the end of the day.

Sisters, practically. That's what everyone said, and for a long time, you believed it too. Which was why the shift felt so wrong when you finally discovered it.

"Chae, I told you..." Your voice faltered, as you stared at the two green glass bottles sitting on your desk like unwelcome guests. "I jus-no. Stop."

The room smelled faintly of graphite and eraser shavings, your half-finished architecture sheets spread across the desk in uneven layers. Lines and measurements blurred together demanding your attention in a way alcohol never could.

Behind you, Chaerin let out a soft, impatient sigh.

“Come on,” she groaned, dragging the word out as if coaxing a child. "It's just soju. You're acting like I brought poison."

You pressed your pencil down harder than necessary, it's tip snapping against the paper. The small, sharp sound echoed louder than your unsaid thoughts and hesitation "That's not the point," you muttered, not turning around. "I have to finish this. It's due tomorrow, Chae."

"And you will," she replied too easily. "After you relax a little."

You finally looked at her. She was sprawled across your bed, one leg dangling off the edge, her hair falling messily around her shoulders. There was a dullness to her eyes that hadn't been there before, a restless kind of energy, like she was always chasing something just out of reach.It unsettled you.

"I don't need to relax," you said, softer this time.

Chaerin clicked her tongue, sitting up with a suddenness that made you flinch. She grabbed one of the bottles, twisting the cap open with practiced ease "that's exactly your problem," she said, pouring the clear liquid into two mismatched cups. "always stuck in your head. Always working, always worrying...touche"

"I'm not-"

"You are."

You fell quiet.

For a second, neither of you spoke. The air shifted, subtle but heavy enough to feel. She held out one of the cups toward you. "Just one, please?" she said, her voice softening again, almost pleading now. "Drink with me."

You stared at the cup, then at her.

And that was the problem, wasn't it?

Chaerin wasn't just anyone. She wasn't a classmate you could brush off or a senior you could politely refuse. She was the person who knew exactly what your regular orders were, who could read your mood from the way you shut a door, who used to pull you out of crowds the moment you looked overwhelmed.

She knew you.

Which was why this — this insistence felt SO wrong.

"You know I don't like it," you said quietly. Her hand faltered for the briefest moment. Then she laughed, light and dismissive, "You've barely even tried," she said. "How would you know?" Your fingers curled slightly against your palm."I have," you insisted. "That one time, remember? With the seniors? I didn't even want to be there."

"Yeah, and you survived," she shot back. "See? Not a big deal."

"It was a big deal to me." The words slipped out before you could soften them. Chaerin's expression flickered as something unreadable passing through her eyes, but it was gone just as quickly. She leaned back again, taking a sip from her own cup instead "You're overthinking it," she murmured.

Maybe you were. Or maybe you weren't. Because this wasn't just about the soju. It hadn't been for months after that party. You could still remember the way she had bounced into your room that evening, excitement practically spilling out of her. Some rich kids from college were throwing it.

One of those infamous monthly parties everyone seemed to talk about in hushed, intrigued tones. You did warn her, just enough to let her know it wasn't your scene. Those places weren't as harmless as people made them out to be. That free flowing alcohol and dim lights and strangers with too much money and too little consequence rarely led to anything good.She had laughed it off

"chill y/n," she had said back then too.

She had wanted you to come with her. And you hadn't. You lied about going home for the weekend, packing a bag just to make it believable. You remembered the way she had pouted and tried to convince you one last time before leaving.

And you remembered the feeling of relief when the door finally closed behind her.

You weren't trying to control a grown girl like her and act like some strict parental figure. But something about that party had felt off. And when she came back, something about her felt off too. At first, it was small things. A new tone in her voice, certain impatience that hadn't been there before. Late nights that turned into early mornings. New people, new habits, new laughter that didn't quite sound like hers. You tried to ignore it.

Until ignoring it wasn't enough anymore. Now, sitting in your dorm room with unfinished assignments and a cup of soju being pushed into your hand, you couldn't pretend you didn't see the change or worse feel it.

"Chae," you said again, more carefully this time. "Why are you pushing this so much?"

She didn't answer immediately, instead, she took another sip, her gaze drifting somewhere past you, like she was looking at something you couldn't.

"It's just a drink," she said finally. But it didn't feel like just a drink.

Not when she looked at you like that....like—like she needed you to say yes. Not when it felt like saying no was slowly putting a distance between you that you didn't know how tocross anymore.

Your eyes dropped to the cup in her hand, then to the bottle on your desk, for a fleeting moment, a bitter thought crossed your mind.

You were tired of blaming the booze and over the top drunk horny adults for Chaerin's change, because certainty you knew Jake Sim deserved the full blame.

Okay hold on, rewind.

Whoooooo the hell was Jake Sim?

God, how badly you wished life worked in a way where you could just ask that one question and move on without facing any consequences. But nothing about Jake Sim was ever that simple. See he was well a reputation if you had to define him in the most brutally honest way possible. He was your typical upper class, introverted disaster with an ego that reached places even his money probably couldn't. The kind of guy people either obsessively adored or instinctively avoided and you had always been very comfortable being inthe second category.

A "community dick," was the most accurate description you could come up with after overhearing your classmates gush about his toenails and ball hair for what felt like the fiftieth time in one week.

bizarrely enough you never understood the obsession when you occasionally spotted him in the canteen, surrounded by his loud, obnoxious friends who seemed allergic to basic etiquette. Their laughter carried across the room, sharp and intrusive, making you instinctively shrink into your seat.

You had always silently thanked whatever higher power was looking out for you that Jake Sim was nowhere near your academic orbit. Different major, building and thankfully different world.

Perfect.

Except life, apparently, had a twisted sense of humor because while he stayed far away from you, he didn't stay away from Chaerin. Same department. Same classes. Same daily proximity. Bad news.

What confused you more was how Chaerin herself used to talk shit about him, ranting about his attitude, his arrogance, the way people bent over backwards for him like he was something divine energy. She gave you every unnecessary detail about him, every petty observation, every eye roll translated into words.

And then–It just... stopped.

Or worse, it flipped. Somewhere along the way, the same Chaerin who couldn't stand him started orbiting him instead. Watching his friend group like he had become something important and something she couldn't afford to lose sight of.

"Ah, fuck this shit."

The frustration finally spilled over and before you could second guess yourself, you grabbed the bottle from the desk and tilted it back, the sharp, burning liquid sliding down your throat in one reckless gulp. It burned god, it burned so good but you didn't stop until the bottle was nearly half empty.

"Girl-slow *hiccup* down-" Chaerin's words slurred together, as she tried to sit up straighter. Too late.

You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, blinking away the sting in your eyes. The room felt warmer now, heavier, like the air itself had thickened."See..." Chaerin muttered, her words dragging, uneven. "I know *hiccup* you might hate me... for this one..."You frowned, irritation flaring instantly "Oh my god, just say it already," your adrenaline snapped. "You've said that line like fifteen times today." Your patience was hanging by a thread. At this point, smashing the bottle on her head felt like a reasonable option.

"Okay... wait..." she mumbled, blinking slowly as if trying to catch her thoughts mid-air. "Uh... where was I...? Right... right... so, I know you–*hiccup* no, fuck–I know you will-"

Your grip tightened around the bottle.

This was it.

Whatever it was, you were done waiting.

"Jaaay*hiccup*ke—kissed me..." she slurred, the name stumbling out of her mouth, "... then... uh... we kinda had sex."

Your hand froze mid-air and so did everything else, your thoughts, your breath, the room itself felt suffocating.

"What?" you repeated, the word coming out flat,almost disbelieving. Then, because your brain refused to process it any other way, you let out a sharp, incredulous laugh "Oh, you mean you got drunk and slipped on his dick?" your tone dripping with disbelief. Chaerin shot upright, offended despite her state. "No-wait-I-I did ride him *hiccup* how di-OWH!" Her words were cut off by a loud crash.

The bottle left your hand before you even realized it, flying straight out the open window. The sound of it shattering echoed faintly from below."Y/n, bitch!" Chaerin scrambled toward the window, panic cutting through her haze as she leaned out, trying to see if you had just accidentally committed manslaughter.

"What the fuck-Y/n!"

You clicked your tongue, leaning back against the desk like nothing had happened "I know there's more to your story," you said coldly. "Go on."

Her eyes widened.

Gotcha! Did she really think she could drop something like that and leave it half-finished? Not to you. Never to you.

"Chae," you added, your voice quieter but sharper, "don't make me smash the second bottle on your head."

She swallowed. "Okay... so..." she began, fidgeting with her fingers. "We did it... and then... when I woke up *hiccup* I texted him..." Her voice wavered. And just like that, something in your chest tightened.

The bottle slipped from your fingers, forgotten. Oh no. You knew that tone. You knew those pauses. Before she could say another word, you crossed the room in seconds, stepping over scattered cushions and pulling her into your arms. She broke instantly, her body collapsing against yours as sobs wracked through her.

"Y/n..." she choked out. "He-he said he doesn't want to keep any connection with me anymore... it was just a one-time thing..."

Her words shattered between hiccups and tears, each one hitting harder than the last. You closed your eyes, exhaling slowly as you held her tighter, your hand coming up to cradle the back of her head. Of course it was this. You guided her gently toward the bed, sitting her down as you wiped her tears with your thumb, your movements careful. "Hey... hey..." you murmured softly. "easy..."

She clung to you like a coala.

"Is this why you've been drowning yourself in all these weird drinks?" you asked, your voice quieter now, softer. She nodded barely but it was enough. Enough for everything to click into place.

God.

A part of you wanted to scream and to say

'I told you so'

To remind her of every warning, every concern she had brushed off. To curse Jake Sim and every rumor that followed his name, because clearly none of it had been exaggerated. But you didn't. Because right now, she wasn't the girl who ignored your warnings, She was just your Chaerin hurting, and crying in your arms. And that mattered more than that stupid shit assed Jake with bad reputation.

The following week passed as you giving nastiest side eyes to jake while chaerin ignored both you and that group of monkeys like plague. You did not insist her to have forced conversations because poor girl needed time to re-collect her thoughts.

You carried it with you everywhere, through lecture halls, crowded corridors, even the quiet corners of the campus where you usually found peace. It sat heavy in your chest, simmering just beneath the surface, most evident in the way your eyes instinctively narrowed every time you spotted him. Jake Sim.

If looks could kill, he would have been long gone.

Chaerin, slipped in and out of spaces quietly, conversations cut short, laughter nonexistent. You didn't push her. As much as it irritated you watching her shrink into herself like that youunderstood. She needed time. Time to think, to process, to gather whatever pieces of herself had been shaken loose But that didn't mean you let him off easy.

Because while Chaerin withdrew, you sharpened. Jake, continued living like nothing had changed. His routine, as far as you could gather from Chaerin's previous backbitching sagas, overheard conversations and casual observations, was almost annoyingly consistent.

Jake's life was simple. Wake up late. Ignore half the messages in his group chat and the other half from girls he had probably promised something to. Drag himself to classes and somehow still remain the topper of the entire engineering department. Afternoons were reserved for his friends, loud and carefree in the canteen or on the basketball court. Evenings drifted between the library, the gym, and video calls with his brother Riki, except now there was one small disruption in that perfectly curated routine.

Your sharp unrelenting gaze burning holes through his thick ass head.

"Yo, she totally wants you."

Sunghoon snickered laced with amusement as he passed the basketball to Sunoo. The two of them moved with practiced ease, laughter slipping between them, just another joke. "Everyone wants him," Jay muttered under his breath, wiping sweat from his forehead as he tried and failed to snatch the ball from Jungwon. "What's so surprising about that?"

Sunghoon scoffed, clicking his tongue. "Ugh, this time it's different—Sunoo here!"

Jake barely reacted. He sat on the edge of the court, phone in hand, scrolling lazily through pictures of layla, his dog that riki spammed that morning.

"Bro, I think you should ask her–oh shit..." The ball slipped from Sunghoon's hand with a loud thud. The rhythm of the game faltered because the sharp, unmistakable click of your heels had cut through the court like a warning. The air shifted as you approached, the boys' chatter dying down into something uncertain. You stopped right in front of him. "Mr. Park is asking for Sim Jake."

Your voice was calm but your eyes, however, never left his face.

"Why?" Jake asked, not even bothering to look up from his phone. Your lips pressed into a thin line "well, I didn't feel like entertaining your nonsense," you shrugged "So I skipped the part where I ask him Why"

Jay let out an irritated huff from behind you. "You're not even from our department. What the hell?"

Ignoring him completely you repeated "Mr. Park Soohyun is expecting Sim Jake in the sports office," tone blunt now. That got his attention.

Jake finally stood, slipping his phone into his pocket. He still didn't look at you, not even once, as if your presence alone wasn't worth the effort. "I'll be back," he said, tossing the ball toward Sunghoon. Then he walked past you.

And you followed. Not a word exchanged, just the sound of your footsteps trailing behind him.

The hallway should have been crowded at this hour. Between lectures and practice sessions, it was usually filled with noise — But today, it felt... off. A few students lingered here and there, one slumped against the wall, scrolling endlessly on their phone, another sprawled across the bleachers with a book covering their face, half- asleep. The rest of the corridor stretched ahead, unusually empty. And in the middle of it you followed a few steps behind Jake.

Your eyes, almost against your will, traced the line of his broad shoulders, then drifted upward to the messy blond strands of his hair. Then lower, the thin fabric of his shirt clung to his back, damp with sweat, outlining the flex of muscle beneath it with every step he took. Your felt your throat drying as your gaze lingered a second too long.

What the fuck.

You blinked hard, snapping yourself out of it.

Have you actually just lost it?

Absolutely not. You dragged your eyes away, jaw tightening. This was not the time to notice things like that. You had a purpose. A very important, very justified purpose. And it definitely did not involve... whatever the fuck was that.

The sports office came into view at the far end of the hallway, tucked into a corner, door standing plain and unassuming, but you knew better. Mr. Park usually kept it locked ever since that incident with the stolen baseball bats. No one really talked about it much anymore, but the habit stuck. Except today It wasn't locked. Jake slowed down slightly, stopping just short of the door. You watched him inhale, before he pushed it open and stepped inside.

For a split second, it almost looked like he forgot you were there.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Park..." His voice echoed faintly from inside.Silence answered.

"Mr. Park?" he tried again, a little louder this time. "....is there anyone–"

Click.

The sound was small, almost insignificant. But Jake froze.

His head snapped toward the door just as it shut completely, the lock sliding into place with a finality that made your chest tighten with something dangerously close to satisfaction.

"What the fuck?!" His voice sharpened instantly, his fist hitting the door hard. "Hey-open this!"

Outside, you leaned back slightly, your breath uneven, adrenaline rushing through you in waves. A bead of sweat slid down your neck, but you barely noticed. Because you were smiling. "Stay there and think about what you did asshole!" you called out, your voice carrying just enough to reach him through the door.

There was a brief pause, then the banging got louder. "Are you fucking serious right now?!" Jake's voice came through, muffled but furious as he shoved against the door, trying the handle again. "Open the damn door!" You bit back a laugh. He pushed harder, kicked once, then again, frustration bleeding into every movement. The rattling of the handle, the dull thud of his shoulder against the wood, it all blended into a chaotic rhythm behind you.And then your laughter slipped out anyway. You turned on your heel, the sharp click-clack of your shoes cutting through the hallway as you walked away, each step lighter than the last.Behind you, the banging continued.Jake Sim wasn't in control anymore and oh— He was soooo pissed.

"Students, it is unfortunate to note that the sports equipment robbery is still ongoing..."

Mr. Park's voice echoed across the cafeteria, cutting through the usual lunchtime chatter. You barely reacted, too focused on finishing the last piece of chicken nugget on your plate, chewing slowly taking your sweet time.

"People really have nothing better to do than rob sports equipment?" Chisa huffed, clearly annoyed, as she stretched her hand toward Jurin for her compact powder. "I mean... maybe that's what fills their bank accounts," Chaerin muttered absentmindedly. You glanced at her. She still seemed distant, less than before, but not quite herself yet. There was a softness to her voice now, like she was slowly returning but hadn't fully found her footing. Still, it was progress. And that was enough to make you smile, even if only faintly.

"Speaking of which," Jurin chimed in, pointing her chopsticks toward a certain table across the cafeteria, "I've only ever seen that group use the equipment anyway."

You didn't turn. You didn't need to.

Your heart, however, betrayed you — pounding just a little faster, as if it already knew exactly which group she was referring to. You kept your gaze steady, deliberately choosing not to look back. Instead, your eyes drifted toward Chaerin again. And just as you expected she was already looking at them. At him.

Her eyes lingered, slightly glossy, emotions flickering across her face in a way that made your jaw tighten.

You bit the inside of your lip. No.

You weren't letting this go. Not yet.

Not until Jake Sim was on his knees begging, apologizing, breaking the way he made her break. Only then would you consider letting it rest.

"Uh... earth to Jake Sim?" Jake's train of thought snapped abruptly, his brows furrowing as the overly high-pitched voice cut through his focus.

"Can you stop ignoring Evelyn?" the girl snapped, crossing her arms. "You were the one who promised to take her to the museum!"

Jake huffed, clearly caught off guard. Now who the hell had he promised that to?

Sunghoon cackled beside him, the sound only worsening the dull throb forming in Jake's head "Jake and a museum?" he slapped his thighs, laughter still rolling out "tell Evelyn to just print a cardboard cutout of him if that helps!"

The girl let out an irritated noise, clearly unimpressed, before turning on her heel and storming away.

Jake sighed, dragging a hand down his face as a string of curses slipped under his breath. Why was Decelis filled with such abnormal examples of humanity?

The rest of the week dragged on painfully slow as Jake buried himself in his studies, preparing for the upcoming midterms with an intensity that left little room for anything else. Notes, lectures, assignments, he drowned in them all, using the workload as a distraction. Occasionally, his phone would buzz with messages from Sunghoon and Jay usually something about clubs recruiting volunteers for their so called "public service"week.

Apparently, it offered extra credits. Not that Jake cared. His grades had always been flawless, consistent enough that he never had to worry about bonus points. Weekends, for him, were sacred and reserved for uninterrupted sleep and the occasional gaming session. And as far as he was concerned, this weekend would be no different.

Or at least, that's what he thought.

Until his phone started going off. One call. Then another. Then another. Followed by a flood of messages.

Jake frowned, pulling his phone from his pocket. He usually kept it on silent, but for some reason he hadn't that day. And now, past 1 p.m, his screen was filled with an absurd number of missed calls. All from Sunghoon.

"What the hell...?" He finally answered, voice hoarse and clearly irritated.

"Bro, what the fuck?!" Sunghoon's horrified voice exploded through the speaker, loud enough to make Jake pull the phone slightly away from his ear. "Check the college website right now!" Jake blinked, still trying to process the urgency.

"What are you talking about-"

"The volunteering list is out!" Sunghoon cut him off, his tone bordering on hysteria. "And someone signed you up for the National Museum!"

Silence.

Jake stared at his phone then at the wall and then back at his phone

"...You've got to be kidding me."

Welp. There went his perfect weekend.

"Good morning! Welcome to the registration offic—oh... it's you." Sadie's voice dropped the moment she recognized you, her expression twisting into poorly concealed annoyance. Still, she quickly recovered, forcing on a sickeningly sweet smile.

"Uhm, how can I help you, Miss Y/n Y/l/n?" she asked, tone dripping with fake politeness.

You physically cringed at the way she said your name, clearing your throat before speaking. "Uh... Sadie, I noticed you were talking with Jake today”

"Ugh, don't even start about that asshole," she cut in immediately, emphasizing the last word while grinding her teeth.

She clicked her tongue in irritation before narrowing her eyes at you. "Also, why are you suddenly so interested in Jake Sim? Even that day, I noticed you giving him heart eyes like you wanted to unzip his chain and give the cafeteria a real volunteering show—"

You slapped your hand over her mouth before she could finish, head whipping in every direction to check if anyone had heard that. "Are you insane?" you hissed under your breath. Sadie smacked your hand away almost instantly "ew, what the hell?"

You swallowed hard, staring at her in disbelief. Can she just... disappear? Why was she this insufferable?

"Look, Sadie," you said, taking a steadying breath, trying very hard not to knock out her barely five foot frame, "I'm here as a peacemaker."

She raised a brow, clearly unconvinced.

"See, I know Jake ditched Evelyn for that museum date..." you continued carefully, choosing your words. "But he's regretting it now. He told me to register him for the volunteer program at the National Museum." Sadie gave you a blank face then she slowly looked you up and down, her lips curling into a mocking smile "Why the fuck would he tell a nobody like you what he's feeling?" she scoffed. "Since when are you sooo close to Jake?"

You bit the inside of your lip. Right. You expected that. Still, you didn't hesitate.

"I overheard him talking to his friends on the phone," you replied smoothly. "He said he really regrets what he did to Evelyn... and how he ignored you in the cafeteria."

That did it. You immediately saw the shift.Sadie stilled and there it was. That flicker behind her eyes. Hungry of Interest and validation she thrived on. If there was one thing you knew about Sadie, it was that she would drop all logic the moment attention came into the picture, especially if it involved someone like Jake.

And now? Now she was hooked.

You kept your expression neutral, though internally, you knew you had her exactly where you wanted. You gave a small shrug. "That's what I heard....and as someone who who admire Evelyn and you as my senior...I just wanted to help you all"

You noticed Sadie's smile getting bigger.

Then, slowly, she nodded to herself, as if piecing things together in her head "Uh... okay," she said finally, her tone shifting. "I'll set Jake and Evelyn in the same segment at the National Museum."

There it was. The opening you needed. And just like that your plan moved one step forward.

# 2 clickbait

Jake swore he was going to pass out at any moment if another child approached him with same ridiculous bullshit like why historical figures had small dicks. He dragged a tired hand down his face, exhaling sharply as he stared at the museum walls, silently praying for the worst possible downfall of whoever had put him in this situation. And somehow he knew EXACTLY who was behind it.

Evelyn's soft voice pulled him out of his spiraling thoughts.

"U-uhm... thank you, Jake," she said, her tone hesitant as she tried to tuck strands of her hair behind her ears, clearly attempting to hide how red they had become. "For... reconsidering our date. You really are a man of your word. I don't know why people make such weird assumptions about you, but—but I just wanted to let you know... I don't care about your bad reputa—"

Jake yawned blatantly.

See Evelyn was....fine. More than fine, actually. Pretty, soft-spoken, most people would easily fall for. He had noticed her before, maybe once or twice during calculus lectures, when boredom got the best of him. But that was it. Nothing more. He had known from the very beginning that the "date" she once asked him about, eyes hopeful, voice slightly trembling was never going to happen. Yet somehow, he had still said yes. Because Jake Sim never really thought twice before making promises.

And now here he was. Stuck babysitting a group of overly curious children in a museum, listening to questions that made his head hurt, while standing next to a girl who clearly thought this meant something more than it actually did. He suppressed a groan.

Is this my karma for not clearly rejecting people? The thought lingered, bitter and annoyingly accurate. But then another thought cut through.

You.

His jaw tightened instantly. The memory of the locked sports office, your voice, your laughter echoing down the hallway, it all came rushing back, sharp and irritating.

Who the hell—No What the fuck was your problem?

Because this? This had your name written all over it.

The soft pitter patter of rain against the glass window stirred Chaerin awake. She blinked slowly, adjusting her slightly fogged glasses as she lifted her head from the table. For a moment, everything felt hazy, her thoughts, her surroundings, even the time. How long had she been sleeping in the library? A dull ache settled behind her eyes as she straightened up, wincing slightly.

The table was cluttered with open books, scattered notes, and uncapped highlighters. Somewhere between all that mess. She fumbled around for her phone, finally finding it beneath a stack of questionnaires. Outside, the rain poured heavily, blurring everything beyond the glass into indistinct shapes. The rhythmic sound felt almostsoothing.

Lately, she hadn't been sleeping much in her dorm. For some reason, the library felt quieter and safer. More peaceful than her own room.

Did Y/n already go back to the dorm?

she wondered, pushing her chair back as she stood up.

Chaerin grabbed her umbrella, clutching it tightly in her left hand as she made her way out of the main building. The hallway was nearly empty. Most students had gathered near the entrance, waiting for the rain to ease before heading out. A few leaned against walls, some scrolling through their phones, others simply watching the downpour. Chaerin slowed down as she approached the gate.

And then she froze.

Her breath hitched.Leaning casually against a pillar stood a figure she knew all too well.

He looked... the same. Something about the moment felt different and almost like a miracle or as if sensing her presence, he looked up. Their eyes met and neither of them moved.

Not for longer than a second and then he adjusted his cap, pulling it lower to cover his face before pushing himself off the pillar. Without a word, without another glance he walked straight out into the rain.

"Wait! Ja—fuck!"

Chaerin stumbled forward, her umbrella slipping from her grip as it knocked into a nearby plant pot, sending it clattering to the ground.

"You look miserable as ever." Sunghoon's voice cut through the room as he glanced up, eyeing Jake from head to toe who stood there, completely drenched, water dripping from his hair, his clothes clinging uncomfortably to his body. Jungwon giggled from the side. "His life has been nothing but a shitshow ever since his secret admirer showed up—"

He stopped mid-sentence. Jake's glare was enough "...Okay, I'll shut up," Jungwon muttered, raising his hands in surrender.

"She stole my umbrella," Jake said flatly.

There was a fake attempt to look for words of consolation as Sunghoon turned away covering his mouth, not wanting to spit the gum at Jake's face while having a crashout level laughing. And then, unfortunately, to picture it Jake searching for his ridiculous Spongebob umbrella and someone actually stealing it was not helping him to stay sane at all.

"...What the fuck happened to you?" Jungwon groaned as the door burst open again.

Another drenched figure stepped in. Water pooled on the floor as he walked in, completely soaked. "I had a bathroom emergency," Jay announced casually, pulling off his wet t-shirt and tossing his cap toward Sunoo.

Jake, Jungwon, and Sunghoon exchanged a long, tired look.

"Man, we've been friends for as long as I can remember," Jungwon started, narrowing his eyes. "Stop lyi-"

The sharp sound of Jay's room's door slamming shut cut him off and eventually silence followed.

Jungwon sighed "...Yeah, okay. Not asking."

"H–he won't even stop to talk to me... and would rather walk out in the rain... wahhhhhh y/nnnnn"

You let out a deep sigh, passing another tissue to Chaerin. She was sprawled across your bed again, her head hanging slightly off the edge, hair cascading down as she continued rambling between sniffles. Meanwhile, you sat on the floor beside her, your back resting against the wooden frame of the bed, your head tilted up as you stared at the ceiling. Her cries didn't stop.

You had genuinely thought things were getting better. Slowly but still, better. Chaerin had started showing signs of herself again, enough to make you hopeful. And you? You were doing your part, making Jake regret every second of his existence. Or at least, that's what you had thought. Your eyes shifted toward the corner of the room. The stupid Spongebob umbrella sat there, slightly tilted, almost mocking you. You had taken it earlier that day from his bag while he was too busy fooling around with his equally stupid friends on the basketball court.

A small victory.

But clearly not enough.

You clicked your tongue softly. Nah.

This wasn't working. You needed something bigger. Something that would actually hit him where it mattered, something embarrassing enough to make him crawl back and apologize to Chaerin. Something that would make him think twice before ever ignoring her again.

"Don't worry, Chae..." you murmured quietly, "everything will end soon."

Chaerin sniffled again, barely processing your words.

But you weren't really talking to her anymore. Because at that exact moment an idea formed.

A little unhinged maybe.

A faint smile tugged at your lips. Oh, Jake....you were so dead.

Getting Evelyn's number hadn't been difficult. Sadie practically handed it over without much effort. The two of them were always glued together anyway, so it barely took any convincing on your part. What was difficult was Evelyn herself. Convincing her that Jake was playing with her turned out to be far more complicated than you had anticipated. If anything, things had gotten worse. After setting them up to volunteer together at the museum, Evelyn seemed to have grown even more attached to him.

And that was a problem. Because no matter how obvious it seemed to you, she just refused to see it.

You exhaled slowly, leaning your head back against the bed.

So if she wouldn't see it you would have to make her see it. Your fingers tapped absently against the floor as your thoughts began to align, one by one.

There was only one way to do this. Jake's reputation.

That was your key. Every rumor, every story, every whisper that followed his name around campus it all existed for a reason. And now? You were going to use it.

Carefully and strategically you were going to play your cards right.

You scrunched your nose in irritation as you stared at the engineering major's schedule in front of you. Jake was — unfortunately far more studious than you had expected. It made no sense. How could someone juggle being a complete menace when it came to relationships and still manage to maintain such an academically perfect life? You clicked your tongue, zooming in further on the neatly organized routine that had been sent to you by his class representative, someone you had somehow managed to charm (or manipulate) into sharing the information. Honestly, even you were impressed with yourself.

"Monday no chance...Tuesday....three calculus classes oh my god...Thursday... no free period..." you muttered under your breath, scanning the list. "And who the hell attends classes on Saturdays—oh wait."

Your posture straightened slightly as your eyes caught something. There it was. A gap. Right after his electrical engineering class. Your lips slowly curled into a smirk.

Okay this was your chance "I need to corner him that day," you whispered to yourself, already reaching for your phone. Your fingers hovered over the screen for a moment before you began typing, carefully constructing the message in your head. Every word had to be precise and believable.

You typed

Hi Evelyn, I got your number from Sadie! Just wanted to let you know Jake wanted to meet you near the second floor staircase this Saturday. He can't contact you since his phone is broken. Thanks.

You reread it once. Twice.

Perfect.

You hit send and a small, a satisfied breath left your lips as you leaned back slightly. You had enough information about jake to conclude the fact he barely checked his messages unless they were from his useless group of friends. Half the time, he didn't respond at all which meant there was almost no chance of him ruining your plan by accidentally answering Evelyn's question about his phone. Another advantage.

Everything was falling into place. You looked down at the screen again, your eyes immediately catching the small line beneath your message.

Read at 8:40 PM.

Your breath hitched slightly "Oh—" A quiet gasp slipped past your lips. That was quicker than expected and that worked in your favor too.

Jay rummaged through his desk, irritation evident in the way his fingers knocked against scattered items. His body felt like it was running on five blood cells like after nearly seven hours of continuous practice. His muscles ached, each movement reminding him just how far he had pushed himself. Jungwon’s voice from earlier still echoed faintly in his head— “What are you training so hard for?”

Good question.

He had never been this serious about basketball. He picked it up casually in his first year, mostly because of Jake and Sunghoon. It wasn’t like Decelis offered scholarships or financial support for sports anyway. So what exactly was he trying to prove?

He pulled open the second drawer of his cabinet, finally spotting the strip of painkillers tucked away beneath a mess of random trinkets and bills. Calloused fingers fumbled through them, pushing aside blister packs until he found the one he needed. And then his fingers touched something else.

A pair of hoop earrings.

He froze for a second, and just stared at them, unmoving.

The memory of that night crept in before he could stop it, the earrings...they kept getting caught in his shirt. He remembered how he had carelessly reached over, almost like an instinct and taken them off her while she was too lost in the afterglow.

Shit.

He didn’t even remember putting them or keeping them here. Jay's grip tightened slightly before he swallowed hard and pushed the drawer shut. He didn’t need them....did he?

His body fell back onto his bed, exhaustion finally catching up to him as he sank into the mattress.

“I hope you know how hard it was for Dad to pay your college tuition fees…”

Jongseong's voice echoed throughout his frontal lobe.

Of course. Park fucking Jongseong — the perfect twin. The ace. He always won, always succeeded, always made the right choices and was the only one their parents proudly spoke about. And Jay?Jay was just… Jay.

Average and impossibly stubborn. Never quite enough.

Getting into Decelis had been the only thing he had done right and now, even that felt heavy.

“Don’t do anything stupid that will tarnish our family name. I know you attract the wrong kind of people—”

“Ugh, enough,”

Jay muttered under his breath, head already hurting as he squeezed his eyes shut. He had always resented that brat. Jongseong's quiet superiority and that constant need to act like he knew better, like he was better, pissed him off on supersonic level.

People his age drank, partied, smoked, hooked up — Oh.

Right.

Jay exhaled shakily, dragging a hand over his face. No matter how much he wanted to forget it, he couldn’t. The memory of Jongseong's disappointed bitch face tangled with the image of his parent's inevitable hopeful expectations, clung to his bone like some kind of inherited disorder.

He really fell into the trap....didn't he?

“No way she followed you here.” Sunghoon’s voice dropped into a half-whisper as he nudged Jake’s arm, trying to pull his half assed attention away from the lecture. “What a crazy bitch,” he added under his breath. Jake didn’t respond immediately, instead his gaze shifted lazily toward where Sunghoon was pointing. Surprisingly he didn’t need to see your face to recognize you anymore. The small Kuromi charm hanging from your bag gave you away instantly, something he had noticed a few days ago when your presence had still felt…..coincidental?

Ugh. Nothing about you was never a coincidence to start with. You really were a bad omen for him.

Now? What is she trying to pull this time?

The rest of the class passed in a blur or maybe it just dragged, Jake couldn’t even tell anymore. His focus came and went, interrupted every now and then by the thought of you standing right outside.

Sunghoon, on the other hand, didn’t shut up and went on eating his eardrums, rambling about some stalking incident that ended up in murder few blocks away. Jake barely registered his words.

Murder? Uh oh...He didn’t think you had murder in your eyes. Whatever you were up to was far worse. Probably something that involved trapping him, torturing him, and dissolving his body afterward.

He shivered.

Outside, your patience was wearing thin.

“What the hell is he doing in there for so long?” you muttered, stomping your foot lightly against the ground as you tried to swat away a mosquitoes. You pressed your lips together and chewed on the inside of your cheek, irritation building with every passing second.

You had been waiting for this for an entire week. Planning, adjusting, calculating every move. There was no way you were letting this opportunity slip now.

The classroom door finally opened as students began spilling out one by one, voices overlapping, footsteps echoing down the corridor. And then Jake walked out last, his expression as blank and unbothered as ever, limbs moving in an excruciatingly painful speed. Sunghoon slipped away the moment he saw you, muttering something “I’m not getting involved in this mess.”

Before Jake could follow Sunghoon, you stepped forward. Blocking his path.

“Hi, Jake.”

He stopped, eyes flickering over your shoulder, then behind him, pretending to check if you were talking to someone else. Finally, he pointed at himself.

Ugh. Can he just die? His stupidly handsome — wait no, 'questionable' face remained unreadable as you crossed your arms, trying your best not to let your inner thoughts show “Evelyn wants to meet you.”

Jake stared at you for a second then let out a sharp breath, “do you think I’m some airhead running on low brain cells? At least come up with something new. How am I supposed to believe you after you fucking trapped me inside the sports room?”

You inhaled slowly “It’s okay if you don’t want to believe me,” you said, voice deliberately calm. “But she really did ask me to tell you she’ll be near the second-floor staircase.” You shrugged lightly, and then continued again “I mean…..you can ignore it. Totally up to you, just don’t get mad when Sadie starts her usual whining about you ditching Evelyn again.”

Jake exhaled, dragging a hand through his hair as he looked away. You weren’t entirely wrong. Sadie had been relentless ever since the museum incident, spamming him and trying to set him up with Evelyn for another date. And if what you were saying was true....he might need to shove a pencil up his ear, infact he could already hear her high pitched endless nagging.

God, no.

His gaze shifted back slow to you as he looked you over — braided hair, down to your hands… nails painted brown, slightly chipped at the edges.

His eyes moving shamelessly up and down your body made you flustered as you took a small step back, suddenly aware of just how openly he was checking you out. Jake clicked his tongue then, without another word said “let’s go.”

Bingo! You have him exactly where you wanted.

The walk to the second floor staircase was the most dreadful thing you experienced beside that one time in high school when you snuck out to meet your ex boyfriend at 2 am.

You took slow, steady breaths, trying to calm yourself. It’s okay… I am not the one getting into trouble today. Yet, despite telling yourself that, your eyes kept drifting back to Jake. Again and again. You didn’t want to look — fuck — but you couldn’t stop. He walked beside you with that same stoic expression, completely unaffected.

Wasn’t he even a little excited about meeting Evelyn?

Then again… why would he be? This was Jake, the guy who changed girls like onion skins. You clicked your tongue internally, forcing your gaze forward.

The staircase finally came into view, the stage where everything was supposed to unfold. It was tucked away, hidden from the usual corridor crowd, a place most students didn’t even notice.

Perfect....it won't be even that big of a drama —

Or at least...thats what you prayed for.

Before you or Jake could even step closer a figure came running out of nowhere. You barely had time to react before you were shoved aside, stumbling back as the person launched himself straight at Jake.

“Baby, I missed you so much!”

Your eyes widened.

Students lingering nearby turned instantly, attention snapping toward the scene unfolding in front of them.

Wait what? What the fuck?

Your brain scrambled to process what you were seeing. What is he doing here?! He wasn’t supposed to do this yet!

Jake, clearly caught off guard, stiffened as the almost 6ft figure clung to him.

“Okay what in the flying fuc—man, who are you?!” he snapped, trying to push him away, his voice filled with confusion and irritation. You stood there, frozen, mentally clutching your nonexistent pearls.

Oh no.

No, no, no.

This was going to go so wrong.

You had known Lee Heeseung since your very first day at Decelis. He had been…well kinda impossible to miss. You still remembered walking into your first lecture, only to see him sitting there all bruised and battered, yet completely unbothered. You could hell he was an anomaly. It didn’t take long for you to learn that Heeseung was a scholarship student — and a very highly respected one, personally recommended by his high school principal.

Professors seemed to favor him, though he never abused that advantage. Well… not openly, at least. Then there was his boxing gig which explained the occasional bruises, the late entries into class, and being absent for weeks.

But what truly stood out was how helpful he was. The projector stopped working? Heeseung would fix it. Someone's grandma died and they missed classes? Heeseung would send them notes without being asked. Breakups, academic stress, random life crises, he was always there, somehow involved in solving everyone’s problems like random side quests.

So when the idea of taking Jake Sim down first crossed your mind mid semester, there was only one person you could think of being part of your crazy plan...Lee Heeseung. The only problem? He was barely ever in class. And even when he was, he left the moment lectures ended, unless someone stopped him first.

But luck, for once, was on your side.

The day after you texted Evelyn, you spotted him in class sitting in the back. Focused on his Nintendo Switch.

You hesitated for a moment before approaching him “I… have a little favor to ask…”

Your voice came out softer than intended, almost swallowed by the quiet hum of the room. Heeseung looked up slowly, his face half-hidden behind a mask and hoodie. Only his large, curious eyes were visible as they settled on you.

You realized he was waiting for you to continue so you stepped closer.

And explained everything. EVERYTHING.

By the time you finished, he had put his switch aside, sitting up straighter.

“So…” you hesitated, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. “Will you help me?”

Heeseung studied your face for a moment, then a quiet, breathy laugh escaped him “sure,” he said casually. “But what do I get?”

You gaped.

What exactly could you offer someone like him?

You scratched your head, genuinely thinking and then your face lit up. Rummaging through your bag, you pulled something out before holding it toward him with a hopeful expression.

A strawberry band-Aid set.

“This could help a lot,” you said earnestly. For a second Heeseung just stared at it. Then he laughed again, this time louder. He gave you a thumbs up.

“Consider your work done, baby.”

# 3 payback

“How can you be so heartless? Oh my god…” Heeseung’s doe eyes and exaggerated pout would have been almost comedic if not for the absolute horror etched across Jake’s face. You glanced around nervously. People were gathering. Of course they were!

A few curious students had already slowed down, whispers spreading as more heads turned toward the scene. Within seconds, a small crowd had formed, drawn in by the tension like moths to a flame.

“Me?! Heartless?” Jake groaned, finally managing to shove Heeseung away. “I don’t even know you!” Heeseung staggered back slightly before casually running a hand through his hair, “Really?” he scoffed, tilting his head. “Then why were you ignoring my texts?”

Holy shit. You stared at him, stunned. Lee Heeseung had exceeded your expectations. Was he secretly a theatre kid or something? Why was he so good at this?

Before you could even process it, Heeseung’s head snapped in your direction, his expression shifting dramatically “was it her?!” he accused, pointing straight at you “you’ve been ignoring me for her?!”

You had to bite down hard on the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing but then you followed his gaze and turned back.

Oh shit.

Evelyn stood there, right behind you. Her expression a mix of disbelief, and something dangerously close to heartbreak.

“What?!” Jake’s voice rose again, panic slipping into it now. “I don’t even check texts from people I know!” He took a breath, trying to steady himself “look, I think you’ve got the wrong guy—”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Heeseung cut in smoothly, his tone suddenly serious “after you told me you were still confused about us… that you wanted to experience a few more ‘dates’ before settling down?” The final blow.

A sharp, collective gasp rippled through the crowd. Somewhere behind you Sadie shrieked. Your eyes darted back to Evelyn, her face had gone pale.

Oh my god.

Jake let out a disbelieving scoff “first of all, get your script right—I don’t even swing that way!”

Heeseung stepped closer again, gripping his shoulder lightly “you weren’t saying that last week after you came back from your museum event and told me how boring it wa—”

Smack.

The sound echoed through the corridor. Evelyn’s hand had already fallen back to her side, her chest rising and falling rapidly as Jake stood frozen, a red handprint blooming across his cheek.

For a moment everything went silent. Then Heeseung let out a small yelp, stepping back immediately. “Oh wow… I’m dipping,” he muttered, already retreating into the crowd. He threw you a quick wink before disappearing completely.

Wait—What?! Just like that?

“You could have told me if you didn’t like me in the first place!” Evelyn’s voice cracked, rising higher with every word. Jake blinked, still processing. “Look, Evelyn, I—”

She stepped back, shaking her head.

“Ahhhhh, so the campus fuckboy is actually a closeted gay who refuses to commit to any woman so he can keep his secret male concubines” Sadie, of course pushed her way to the front, her voice loud enough for everyone to hear “Guys!” she called out to the crowd still waiting for another climax “have you ever seen Jake Sim publicly showing affection to anyone?!”

Whispers spread instantly.

Agreement, disagreeing, mixed up speculation with judgment of course.

Jake stood there, jaw tightening as he took a slow, controlled breath. He was done. So fucking done.

All he had wanted was a quiet break. Maybe grab something to eat. Maybe scroll through Riki’s messages and laugh at whatever tung tung tung sahur nonsense his brother was up to.

Evelyn’s quiet sniffles broke through the noise “I should’ve known…” she whispered, her voice trembling “There were other people… how did I not see this coming…?” Sadie immediately jumped back in “Exactly, Evelyn! How many more wom—oops, actually, how many more people are there, Jake? Huh? Your reputation exists for a rea—”

Enough.

Something in him snapped.

Your body reacted before your mind could catch up. Legs told you to move, to leave, to get the fuck away and disappear before this spiraled even further out of control. But you couldn't.

Jake’s eyes found yours and something about the way he looked at you made your stomach churn. Wait…Why was he looking at you like that? Before you could think, he started walking toward you. Fast and long strides.

Oh no no no no — You turned, trying to slip into the crowd, but you couldn’t make it more than a step as his hand caught your forearm firnly. You yelped as he pulled you back, turning you to face him.

“I am not gay,” he said sharply, looking at Evelyn and Sadie “And I don’t know whatever the fuck that was.”

Your brain scrambled to catch up.

“But I sure as hell have something going on with her.”

“What—wait—”

You didn’t even get the chance to protest because in the next second, He pulled you in close. His frame towering over yours, overwhelming and leaving you no space to think, no space to breathe and then — His lips pressed against yours.

The bulb above your mind short circuited.

Gasps rippled through the crowd as Evelyn and Sadie screamed at the same time. Your legs felt like jelly. Mind completely blank. All you could register was the warmth of Jake’s lips against yours, and the way everything around you seemed to blur into nothing.

Wahhh....is that....the pearly gates of heaven—

And just as suddenly as it began he pulled away. There was a faint, almost smug smile playing on his lips.

A look of victory it is.

He got you at last.

“You bitch!” Sadie’s voice cut through the moment. She stormed toward you, her hand already raised, ready to strike, but Jake was way faster. He stood between you and Sadie, body shielding your figure as his hand shot out gripping her wrist mid air before it could make contact.

“Be careful.”

His voice was cold. Not raised. Enough to make Sadie freeze. Then she yanked her hand back, jaw clenched tightly, eyes burning with fury. Without another word, she grabbed Evelyn’s hand “Let’s go, Eve. Both of them are shit faced.”

Evelyn didn’t argue or look back. The two of them disappeared into the thinning crowd, whispers trailing behind them as people slowly lost interest and drifted away.

And then the inevitable silence fell. Just you, Jake and your trembling lips. Your heart was racing so fast it hurt. You barely noticed the way he turned toward you again until you instinctively stepped back. Once....twice until your back hit the cold railing behind you.

No escape zone.

Your breath hitched as Jake stepped closer. Too close.

Before you could react, his hand came up, gripping your jaw firmly, forcing you to look at him. Your breath stuttered and for a second, everything slowed.

His face was right there. His eyes—Wait. Had his eyes always looked like that? So… attractive —Shit, the HELL were you thinking?

“I hope you enjoyed that kiss,” he said, voice mocking you.

Your chest tightened slowly “And now,” he continued, his grip loosening just slightly but not enough to let you pull away, “you’re going to do everything I tell you.” Your stomach dropped.

“Otherwise…” He paused and that smirk returned.

“…the cctv footage of you locking me in the sports office won’t take long to reach your dean.”

Your eyes widened. Fuck. What ?!

Before you could even process it, he let go. Just like that and adjusted his bag over his shoulder, completely unbothered, then walked past you without a second glance.

Leaving you there, utterly screwed.

“Can we talk?”

Jay’s hand paused, his pen hovering over the notebook as he looked up, eyes widening slightly when he saw Chaerin standing in front of him, her expression unreadable. The library was packed, students hunched over books and laptops, trying to squeeze in whatever they could before finals.

He inhaled slowly. So this was it.

After weeks of avoiding her, ducking calls, changing routes, pretending not to notice, he had finally been cornered.

“i guess,” he muttered, though it sounded more like surrender than agreement.

Chaerin pulled out the chair across from him and sat down. For a moment, she said nothing, her fingers resting on the edge of the table as if she was trying to steady herself “see…” she began, “I wasn’t aware of your… fuck and leave rule”

Jay’s jaw tightened slightly.

“And I know I’m probably being annoying as hell,” she continued, fidgeting with her fingers, “but….I thought—I thought maybe...we had something. You talked about your family… your brother—I mean I'm not complaining!—it's just–”

“I do that with everyone” his voice cut through her words, firm and unwavering. Chaerin stilled.

“And you weren’t the first girl to sympathize with me,” he added, not looking away. “Everyone I’ve had ‘something’ with had the same reaction.”

Something.

So that’s what she was to him. Just another 'something'.

“Jay, I—” she hesitated, adjusting her glasses again as they slipped down her nose. “I like you. A lot. And it’s okay if you don’t feel the same. I don’t want to force anything…” The slight tremble in her voice was audible, “...I was just wondering… why did you stop talking to me? We were fine before that party, right?”

“I fuck and leave. Just as you said” his words landed bluntly.

Chaerin went quiet. An “oh” escaped her mouth sounding barely above a whisper.

“So… all this time…” she murmured, her gaze dropping to the table, “you just wanted to leave? Even before we…?”Jay’s fingers twitched under the desk. He opened his mouth but nothing came out. Did he want to leave? His thoughts betrayed him — memories flickering through his mind. The lectures where she sat beside him, talking endlessly, distracting him in ways he never admitted he liked. The days she made him laugh when he felt suffocated by everything at home.

His silence stretched too long as Chaerin took it as her answer.

She stood up abruptly, the chair scraping softly against the floor “s–sorry for wasting your time, I guess…”

Move. Say something. Don’t just sit there stubbornly. His brother’s voice echoed in his head, mocking him.

But Jay couldn't move. His body felt heavy, rooted in place. Chaerin inhaled shakily “I really liked you, Jay,” she said, her voice steadier now, even if her hands weren’t “I’m sorry I was so blinded by it… I forgot to ask what you felt about me”

Liked. Did she not like him anymore? Was he really that easy to walk away from?

Chaerin didn’t wait for an answer this time before turning around and walking out of his sight.

You bit your nails relentlessly, eyes scanning the same line in your book for what felt like the hundredth time and yet not a single word registered. Everything was slipping out of your brain. What the hell had just happened? Why would Jake do that? And worse — What was going to happen now?!

You groaned, grabbing your pillow and pressing your face into it before letting out a loud, muffled scream “It’s my fault—it’s my fault, ughhhhh! Why didn’t I think about the cctv?!” you whined into the fabric, your voice coming out distorted. This had gone so utterly out of control. Nothing—nothing—had gone according to plan and on top of that, Heeseung’s useless entrance at the worst possible time, followed by his equally useless disappearance, had left you even more irritated.

You flopped onto your back, staring at the ceiling before your eyes drifted toward your phone lying lifeless beside you. Switched off.

You hadn’t dared to turn it on since morning knowing notifications would be flooded, messages, missed calls, blah blah and at least half of them would be from Sadie, probably cursing you, your ancestors, and your entire bloodline and perform some sacrificial ritual.

You groaned again, throwing an arm over your eyes.

A sudden knock on your door snapped you upright.

Your heart jumped into your throat. Oh shit.

Did Sadie come to kill you? No, no, no—this is too early—another knock came, louder this time. Fuck. She’s going to murder you.

Your palms grew sweaty as you slowly got off the bed, taking cautious steps toward the door. Each step felt heavier than the last. The knocking grew impatient. You gasped softly, grip tightening around the doorknob. Okay. This is it. You twisted the lock and pulled the door open —

Chaerin!

Relief flooded through you so fast your knees almost gave out.

“Ooouf—thank god…”

You stood there for a moment, just staring at her, trying to gather the right words.

“Jake kissed me.”

“I finally talked to Jay—wait, WHAT??”

crickets....

Your eyes widened as Chaerin stepped inside, quickly locking the door behind her “what the fuck do you mean Jake kissed you?!” she gripped her hair, pacing the room. “I’m going to commit arson on that bitch oh my god!”

Your mind went completely blank as you tried to process everything at once.

Wait....why was Chaerin so furious at Jake? Wasn’t she… heartbroken over him? And — Why did she say she talked to Ja..…y.

Oh.

Oh.

Wait.....wait a damn second.

“y/n, answer me!” Chaerin shoved you lightly, her eyes blazing. “What in the world happened?!”

You swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry “C-Chae…” you stammered, “who was the person you said you slept with at last month’s party…?” Chaerin groaned in frustration “Ugh, I told you—it was Jay! But that’s not important right now, first of all—”

Her voice started fading into the background as your slow ass brain finally caught up. You felt your legs giving up as you sank onto the mattress, hands coming up to clutch your head.

Jay. Not Jake.

Chaerin was hung up on Jay, not Jake.

Your dumbahh confused both the J’s and in the process you had created an absolute disaster. A soft gasp escaped your lips as the realization hit you fully. Oh my god. All this time…Everything you planned…every move you made, instead of helping Chaerin you were just embarrassing yourself.

“Helloooo??? Earth to y/n? Are you even listening?” Chaerin’s voice cut through your spiraling thoughts, laced with concern. You looked up at her slowly, your expression somewhere between horror and disbelief “Chae…” you said weakly, running a hand through your hair

“I think I might’ve done some irreversible damage…”

Getting into Decelis was something you had always been proud of. Being a scholarship student, getting the chance to major in architecture, the one thing you had dreamed of throughout your teenage years was more than enough. It was everything you had worked for and yet now you found yourself counting down the days to graduation. Or worse. To drop out without telling anyone. More importantly There was no one to blame but yourself.

You knew that.

You had spent the entire afternoon explaining Chaerin the absolute mess you had created, while looking up “painless kms methods” on your browser, only to slam your laptop shut seconds later.

“Y/n… I fear even I can’t get you out of this situation…”

Chaerin’s helpless voice echoed in your mind, and your chest tightened as another wave of emotion hit you. You let out a broken cry what, the fifth time today? You had lost count.

Now, sitting in front of your laptop again as the screen glowed harshly in the dim room, feeling less like a device and more like some kind of execution platform, your eyes remained fixed on a single message that came just a few seconds ago from an unknown number. Or at least you pretended it was unknown and you definietly didn’t recognize who it could be.

Anything to convince yourself this wasn’t real.

— Boys’ dormitory, third floor, room number 15. Come within five minutes.

Your gaze slowly shifted toward the digital clock on the wall.

1:00 a.m.

A dry laugh escaped your lips. Right.....What business could someone from the boys’ dorm possibly have with you at this hour? Hahaha…Such a silly prank.…ha.…ha....ha....

The silence that followed felt unbearable. You exhaled shakily, dragging a hand down your face. Yeah no.

This wasn’t a prank anymore. Which meant you had no choice but to go. Because if you didn’t — The next message you might receive would be directly from the dean’s office.

The trip to the boys’ dormitory felt like you were willingly walking straight into hell. Surprisingly, getting past the guards wasn’t difficult as they were sound asleep, completely unaware of your existence. Soon enough you found yourself standing in front of the door, with a metal batch of the number '15' on it.

You rubbed your sweaty palms against your jeans and lifted your hand, about to knock.

The door swung open.

Jake stood there, fresh out of the shower, his hair still wet, blonde strands clinging to his forehead. You could practically see the faint steam rising from his skin. The scent of his shampoo or body wash hit you instantly, clean and sharp, making your head feel oddly light.

“Oh?” he raised a brow. “Right on time. I was just about to notify your dean.”

The smugness in his voice made you want to turn back and leave. Before you could respond, his eyes flicked left and right down the hallway. Without any warning he grabbed your elbow and yanked you inside.

The door shut behind you with a click.

Your brain immediately fogged. Is he going to kill me? Or not? Every alarm bell in your head went off as you stood frozen for a second before forcing yourself to follow him further inside.

You had never been inside the boys’ dormitory before. Well—obviously you had never had a reason to. But everything you had heard was true. The space was bigger, more open compared to the girls’ dorms. Instead of separate rooms, a few boys shared one large living area with individual bedrooms branching off. You followed Jake through the common space, your eyes scanning everything instinctively. Unwashed dishes piled up in the sink. A gaming controller lay abandoned on the floor “Shit—” you muttered under your breath, almost tripping over it, catching your balance just in time.

You passed by three other closed doors, assuming they belonged to his friends, before finally reaching his room. Jake stepped in first, then you. And the door shut behind you again.

This is it. He’s going to kill you and put up your kidneys for friday sale. You stood awkwardly near the entrance as he nudged a gaming chair toward you with his foot. The wheels rolled softly until they bumped against your legs.

“Sit.”

You couldn't.

Meanwhile, Jake casually dropped onto his bed, completely at ease, “sooo…” he dragged out, resting back on his hands. “What should we do with you, miss...?”

"y/n..." you answered then swallowed, fingers fidgeting nervously as your gaze wandered everywhere except his face. His room was annoyingly spotless.

“okayy let’s start from the beginning,” his tone shifted slightly. “and clear our bad blood.”

You could feel his eyes on you, waiting. You took a deep breath. Whatever happens, happens. “See… I’m sorry,” you began “I mistook you for someone else and—and I didn’t realize it until I—”

He huffed, cutting you off “I’m not an idiot, y/n...I knew you mistook me for someone else the moment you locked me in the sports office,” Jake clicked his tongue, leaning back on one elbow. His gaze dragged over you again in that same shameless way.

“I just didn’t realize you’d be bold enough to drag it out this long.”

You wanted to disappear. This was so humiliating that you briefly considered jumping out of the third floor window.

“Now that the damage is done,” he continued casually, “let’s discuss what happens next.”

Your head snapped up. “Next?”

There’s a next?!

Jake stood up and walked towards you. Your body instinctively stepped back until your legs hit the gaming chair behind you, causing you to fall right into it with a soft thud.

“You,” he pointed at you, “are going to act like my girlfriend.”

Your brain stopped functioning.

“As long as I say,” he added. “And we—yes, WE—are going to make Evelyn jealous until she comes back to me.”

Your head spun. This can't be real.

“And everything in this relationship, will go according to my rules. My conditions.”

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out.

“Unless,” he added smoothly, “you decide you don’t want to do this and also don’t want to graduate with a proper degree.” Your stomach dropped “I can always send that footage to the dean—”

“No!” you blurted out, shooting up from the chair. “I—I’ll do it!”

Silence followed. Jake studied your face carefully, his eyes scanning for hesitation, doubt, anything that suggested you might back out. After a moment, a satisfied smile spread across his face.

“Good—savor the moment while it lasts”

Lying on your bed, you traced random patterns over your bedsheet, fingers moving absentmindedly as your mind refused to settle. Sleep was nowhere to be found. Your brain felt heavy as hell as your eyes flickered toward the digital clock.

4:00 a.m.

Another sleepless night. Another hellish week. And, of course — another hellish fake boyfriend who made sure you regretted every second of taking admission in Decelis. It had been almost two weeks since Jake “proposed”– no, forced this whole pretend relationship onto you, all for the sake of making his darling jealous. At this point, you were convinced it wasn’t even about her anymore. It felt personal grudge against your entire bloodline.

You groaned, rolling onto your side. Well, technically...it was personal.

Going to college had turned into a daily humiliation ritual. No matter where you went, lecture halls, corridors, cafeteria, Jake was there, reminding you of what an absolute joke your life had become. And the college? Oh, they were having the time of their lives. The forum buzzed nonstop with rumors about you being Jake’s new babe. Your classmates flocked around you like flies, throwing questions left and right from how does Jake wipe his ass to what the hell did he even see in you?

Disrespectful as fuck.

You had been avoiding the engineering building entirely, convinced Sadie might have already hired an assassin to take you out. You shivered, fingers brushing over a spot on your neck absentmindedly.

“Girl… I think you need to see a doctor,” Jurin sighed, grabbing your hand in concern.

“This could be an early symptom of cancer, who knows,” Chisa added still munching on a drumstick, earning dead glares from both Chaerin and Jurin. You huffed.

Honestly, being hospitalized didn’t sound that bad right now. At least Jake wouldn’t be able to drag you around.

“…So,” Chisa spoke again, completely unfazed, “how is Jake as a boyfriend?”

You groaned loudly, dropping your head back. The worst. Absolutely the worst.

He would call you at the most ungodly hours, 3 p.m., 3 a.m., it didn’t matter, interrupting whatever you were doing just to summon you to his room. For what? To turn on his computer. To clean his desk. Which, by the way, was already clean most of the time. Being Jake’s girlfriend—no, fake girlfriend felt like a full time ragebait experiment. And yet you thought, would he treat you better if you were his actual girlfriend?

What the fuck? No. Absolutely not.

Why were you even thinking that? Who in their right mind would want to be his girlfriend?

He was just an asshole with a good face. That’s it.…Okay, fine. Maybe a very good face.

You squeezed your eyes shut, annoyed at yourself and your eyes which unfortunately worked. Which meant you noticed stuffs. Like the way he looked on the basketball court, focused, sharp, effortlessly attractive.

Or the times you’d find him in his room, sitting casually and completely absorbed in his phone as you sneaked glances while cleaning his basketball tournament trophies.

Or the way he walked just ahead of you in the corridor, his tall frame practically swallowing your smaller one.

You exhaled deeply. This was getting bad. Very bad.

“Oh my god… she’s lost in the exclusive Jake sauce,” Chisa whispered and Chaerin smacked her arm instantly.

# 4 fatal trouble

“Are you purposely ignoring me or what?” Jake’s annoyed voice snapped you back to reality. You crossed your arms, already irritated by the heat and by him. His furrowed brows weren’t helping either. Why the fuck does he looks so attractive with an ugly expression like that the FUCK????

He had called you multiple times until you were forced to pick up in the middle of a lecture, no less which earned you a scolding from Professor Min in front of the entire class.

“I’m not,” you replied shortly, your tone flat. You knew if you said anything more, you might actually punch him. Jake didn’t bother arguing, instead, he tossed his bag at you. Which you caught it out of reflex, immediately sliding it over your shoulder.

God....did he carry bricks in this thing?

“Let’s go,” he said, already turning away. “We have somewhere to be.”

Which is how you found yourself stuck in some godforsaken café, whose interior design alone announced that they sold tasteless stuffs at horrible overpriced rates. Girls sat all around, looking as pretty as ever in their cute tank tops, skirts, jeans, and frilly bow clips, honestly, the only thing making the place somewhat bearable even though, you were still judging hard the questionable boyfriends they had brought along.

Evelyn and Sadie were seated near the window, surrounded by their friend group. Yunjin...ahyeon...daniel...You recognized a few familiar faces from the mechanical engineering department.

You weren’t sure if they had noticed you yet — or were just choosing to ignore you, but Evelyn had definitely noticed Jake who was sitting right across from you. His back faced her, hiding you perfectly from their line of sight.

Jake slid the menu toward you and you shook your head

“not hungry.”

He rolled his eyes “then pretend you are. Don’t embarrass me anymore in public, don’t you think once was enough?”

You screamed internally and flipped open the menu anyway.

What the fuck. 23 dollars for a frappuccino???You immediately snapped the menu shut.

that amount of money could feed you for days... there was no way you were ordering—

“uhhhh, two frappuccinos....and extra whipped cream on both.”

You froze.

Jake had already placed the order, completely uncaring of your internal crisis as you stared at him, mouth slightly open.

Is this it? Is this the part of fake dating where they pay for your food? I mean… not that you were complaining—

“Close your mouth, dimwit. You really do love attention,” he muttered causing your cheeks to hit up as you quickly looked away “whatever”

this was nothing like what you had imagined?? First of all, how the hell was sipping overpriced coffee with Jake supposed to make Evelyn jealous? Did he even have a plan? At this rate, you’d be fifty by the time anything happened, probably with heart problems from stress.

You hummed a random tune under your breath, absentmindedly playing with your straw, trying to distract yourself.

Your eyes drifted toward Jake out of habit. He was scrolling through his phone, as usual, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

You swallowed, the sweetness of the frappuccino did nothing to calm the sudden goosebumps on your skin. Why did he kiss me that day? Ugh… it’s his fault I can’t fucking look away from his lips the FUCK?

At the table beside you, some guy was making weird faces and feeding his girlfriend, and you couldn’t help but cringe. Wasn’t Jake supposed to be doing stuff like that to make Evelyn jealous? Whatever. Not your problem anyway—

You gasped slightly as Jake suddenly stood up and dragged his chair right beside yours, drawing a bit of attention,

including from Evelyn’s table.

You kept your head down, pretending to focus on your drink. Should you say something? Do something? This was so confusing. Minutes passed and you sensed Evelyn and her group getting closer, the clique clack of their heels on the hard wood floor, echoing through, you relaxed when she didn’t even spare you a glance and started heading toward the exit. Thank go—

Suddenly Jake’s hand moved from his cup to your left thigh, gripping it without hesitation. He squeezed lightly, too close to the hem of your skirt, his fingers brushing dangerously near your inner thigh.

“Eek!” you yelped, startled.

The sound drew immediate attention including Evelyn who turned and her eyes locked onto your flustered expression then they slowly travelled to Jake’s arm resting casually under the table, and his hand still wrapped around your thigh.

Shit shit shit.

Sadie wasted no time and grabbed her arm, pulling her away to the exit. The rest of the girls threw you strange, judging looks before following her out. Silence fell over your table. You could hear your own heart pounding violently in your chest.

The warmth around your thigh was gone the moment Evelyn walked out of sight. You sat there, heartbeat in your throat, and sweating crazy underneath the air conditioning machine. “Bill, please,” Jake called casually, handing his card to the waiter. “For one frappuccino.” Wait—what? You grabbed his shoulder, eyes wide. “What about me?!” He glanced at you, dragging his gaze up and down before shrugging. “I don’t know. I asked what you wanted—you couldn’t decide, so I ordered the same for both of us. Doesn’t mean I’m paying for both.”

You stared at him in disbelief. This was getting SO ridiculous. You quickly fumbled through your bag looking for your purse and shoved some crumpled notes into his hand before standing up and storming out.

God you just wanted to die.

Jake had officially pushed you to the point where you discovered strands of grey hairs growing from your roots. “Ouch!” you winced as Chaerin tugged at one absentmindedly. “Girl… trust me, no one cares. Damn, this one’s stubborn.” You bit your lower lip, trying to ignore the sting. “I care! What if people think I’m some kind of weirdo grandma going after a college guy?!”

Chaerin rolled her eyes. “You trapped yourself, at the end of the day.” You shot her a glare “I did everything for you, and this is how you repay me?!”

All she did was sigh “my dumb, pretty y/n… maybe if you had listened to me carefully NONE OF THIS WOULD’VE HAPPENED!”

You pouted. “Yeah, yeah. Everyone hates me, I get it.”

Between Jake and your coursework, the pressure of getting bullied by both was becoming unbearable. You let out what felt like your hundredth groan of the week. “Can this just end, god…”

Thud!

A basketball smacked straight into your head. “Ow!” you yelped looking up instantly, Jake stood there, amusement written all over his face “stop thinking so hard, dimwit. Take life easy,” he said, giggled and you swore you wanted to break his face.

Grabbing the ball, you threw it back at him with full force. “Suck it, Jackass.”

He caught it effortlessly, raising a brow. “Oh? Making progress, huh?” You stood up, brushing dirt off your jeans. Enough. It had already been over two hours. Jake had dragged you here because apparently Evelyn was supposed to watch the practice for new cheerleading recruits, but neither she nor any cheerleaders had shown up. Instead, you had been stuck watching him practice alone and getting harassed relentlessly.

He tossed the ball at you again but this time you caught it cleanly. And somehow that turned into a full blown game back and forth. Again and again. You hadn’t played basketball seriously since high school, but with Jake, everything felt different. Competitive and definitely Intense. No way you were leting him get out of the court without smashing his nuts with that ball–wait that's sounds weird but anyways.

It went on until both of you were completely out of breath. Jake finally dropped to the floor, legs stretched out, chest rising and falling rapidly. You laughed breathlessly. “Wha....t? Tired already?” He rolled his eyes “look at yourself first”

You both fell into a quiet pause, just staring at each other. And suddenly that same awkward, flustered feeling crept back in. “M-my dorm has a curfew today… I need to go,” you muttered, mostly to yourself, but loud enough for him to hear and started stomping towards the exit ready to leave. But before you could your foot caught on his stretched out legs.

“Ah—!” gravity pulled you down without giving you the chance to realise what just happened as a pair of strong arms caught you perfectly, landing right on top of him.

Your brain short circuited. From this close, he looked… unfair. His eyes slightly hooded, face flushed from exertion, and breath warm against your skin. You didn’t even notice the sweat trailing down your neck, hair just a mess and fingers tightly clutching his shirt. All you could focus on was him. Fuck, fuck, fuck. His gaze locked onto yours then slowly dropped to your lips. Your felt your heart skipping a beat. And before you could think you leaned in. Just a little closer, just this one time, jusssstt this once — Jake’s hand shot up, gripping your jaw, stopping you instantly.

Oh.

The doors burst opened and instantly gasps and low whistles filled the court.

Reality doubled down back into you. You scrambled off him immediately, heart racing, refusing to meet his eyes. Your gaze landed on the group that had just walked in.

The cheerleading team.

And right in the center — Evelyn.

Her glare was unpleasant. Great....just great. Sunghoon and Jay, who had come along, ran up to Jake, laughing about something you couldn’t even process. Jake, however, stayed seated, his expression unreadable. You didn’t wait another second. Grabbing your bag, you turned and stormed out.

“Oh my god… oh my god, fuckkkkkk fuckkkkk what was I thinking?” You smacked your cheeks repeatedly, staring at your reflection in the bathroom mirror. The girl staring back looked just as frustrated and flustered. Cupping your face you tried to sum up what the fuck was going on “y/n, get it together ugh!”

There were levels to your breakdown, and you were currently crossing every single one of them.

The image of jake being breathless and his warm breath against your face replayed again. His half lidded eyes drifting from yours to your lips.

Nope.

You turned the shower on. This couldn’t be happening rn. What the hell was his problem?No, more importantly, why did you lean in to kiss—“No! The fuck—never!” you shouted, trying to convince yourself as your fingers brushed over your lips, you nearly cried in frustration. Embarrassment seeped into your veins as you remembered his grip on your jaw, the only thing that had stopped you from completely humiliating yourself.

“Am I a slut?” you whispered, then let out a loud laugh. “Hell nah. How am I a slut for wanting to kiss my boy…friend…”

You trailed off. Oh... Right.

“Soooo… what was that?” Sunghoon grabbed Jake’s jaw, puckering his lips in an exaggerated kissy face “getting all lovey-dovey with your girl, aww—Fuck—AH!” he yelped when Jake kicked him under the table. “Can I eat my damn dinner in peace?” Jay muttered, already irritated by their dogfight since they returned. Sunghoon laughed, wiping the corners of his eyes. “Man… why are you even wasting your time on her?” He paused, then leaned forward “…no way. Don’t tell me you like her.”

Jake scoffed immediately “she isn’t even my type, the fuck? And how can I just let her walk away after the shit she pulled on me last month?” He crossed his arms, gaze drifting past Sunghoon toward the depressing white walls of their dorm “she pisses me off,” he added after a moment “in a good way. And I’m not letting her walk out until I get my satisfaction.”

Sunghoon leaned back, raising his hands in surrender. “Alrighttt. Do whatever you want—just don’t break the poor girl’s heart.” Jake ignored him, focusing back on his food.

Your next meeting with Jake wasn’t awkward for him. But for you? Oh you were a mess. You kept stammering, stumbling over your words, avoiding eye contact so obviously that even Jake noticed. “Are you sick?” he asked, casually licking his popsicle. You stared straight ahead, your mind screaming 'whatever you do, do not look at him'.

Your own popsicle had started melting in your hand within minutes.

Why was it suddenly so hot? And why did Jake even buy me one? He wasn’t that generous....was he?? Is he making fun of me rn? Oh god, he definitely is. I should just dig a hole and bury myself.

Jake sighed, clearly losing patience. He scooted closer, the bleacher suddenly feeling way too small as his thigh brushed against yours.

“N-no! I’m fine! I’m not sick!” you blurted out, forcing an overly bright smile. He grimaced “ew… what is that expression? I don’t believe you at all” before you could react, he leaned closer. His arms rested on the back of the bleacher, caging you in “hey…” he frowned slightly.

“Are you planning something behind my back again?”

His eyes locked onto yours, and you swore they were going to swallow you whole. You shook your head quickly. “…No.”

“No…?”

“No—”

Jake suddenly lifted his popsicle toward your mouth “lick.”

Your brain went blank. “What—no! I have my own—”

He pushed it closer anyway, smearing a bit of that melted cream at the corner of your lips. You froze instantly as his smug expression only made it worse. “Oops,” he muttered, mockingly. “So sorry, baby.” You felt your stomach flipping as a thumb came up, brushing against your lip to wipe the cream away — his rough fingertip lingered just a second too long. And then he brought that same thumb to his mouth. Licking it clean.

You heard faint shrieks from nearby girls, but they barely registered because your eyes had already caught something else.

Evelyn.

She was standing near a pillar, trying to hide, but her unmistakable stare gave it away.

Shit.

“I—I have class,” you rushed out, scrambling to your feet. “Evelyn saw us, I think my job here is done—” You backed away quickly when Jake tried to grab your wrist

“What—?” He turned, trying to spot Evelyn.

But by the time he looked back you were already gone.

What was happening? Why were you suddenly so nervous around Jake? He had always been the center of your rants and main topic of shit talking sessions between you and Chaerin. You had cursed him out more times than you could ever count. It wasn’t supposed to end up like this… right?

So what if he wasn’t the one who caused Chaerin’s breakdown? He was still an asshole for using you like this.

But then again… what you did to him wasn’t exactly justified either.

“Ugh…” you groaned softly, pressing your fingers to your temple. Everything was making your head spin.

“Good morning to Miss y/n? I hope you’re alright back there.” Professor Min’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. You blinked, suddenly aware of the classroom and the number of students who had turned around to look at you.

“…what? Did Jake dump her already?”

Your jaw clenched. I can hear you, assholes.

As exam week approached, you prayed to every god you could think of that Jake would at least spare you. And surprisingly he did. He left you alone for the most part. There was no tortures except the occasional insulting text or sarcastic remark, nothing that actually disrupted your study schedule. There were only a few days left before your first exam, and Jake had practically gone MIA. By now, you knew he took his GPA seriously.

Not like you were missing him or anything.

“Why does the syllabus look longer now…? I swear it wasn’t this big before…” you muttered, flipping through your notes that looked like new discovery when you were so damn confident about your preparation.

“Whoa, easy, princess. You’re going to rip the book apart.”

You froze. That voice—You looked up and gasped “wha— It’s you!”

A few heads turned in annoyance, reminding you instantly that you were in the library. Oops. You mouthed a quick sorry before lowering your voice, eyes narrowing at the person who had just taken a seat beside you “Lee fucking Heeseung, what the hell…” you whispered. He covered his mouth, trying to suppress a laugh. “Why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?”

“Well, that’s because you literally disappeared after that incident!” you whisper yelled, making him sigh. He casually rolled up his sleeves and started taking out his books. “I had stuff to do.”

He shot you a wink, and annoyingly you couldn’t help but find it a little cute. Okay, fine. It was hard to stay mad at him.

“Want me to help you out?” he asked, glancing at your open notebook. “I know this chapter.” Relief washed over you instantly. “Yes, please.”

“Wahhhh, that was so easy!” You stretched, letting out a satisfied yawn. Heeseung nodded “I told you it wasn’t that hard.”

You started packing your bag while he slowly gathered his things as well. Then you paused. “Wait… aren’t you going to study? All you did was explain everything to my slow brain.”

He shrugged casually. “I studied too—in the process.” You nodded, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “Then… see you, I guess. Good luck!” you said, giving him a thumbs up. But before you could walk away, he grabbed your bag strap, stopping you in your tracks “and what do I get for tutoring you?”

You chuckled, already reaching into your pocket, pulling out the same strawberry designed band-aid, you held it out to him. “Here. Restock your supplies.”

Heeseung burst into laughter as he took it from your hand. “Sure thing.”

Jake wasn’t replying to your texts. You stared at the last message you had sent him two days ago still sitting there, untouched. You scoffed. It wasn’t like you were worried or anything. Or maybe… you were. You sighed and started typing again.

You okay?|

ew that sounded way too concerned.

You quickly erased it and tried again.

Is our deal off?|

no...what if he sees that and decides to pull something even weirder during exam week?

You groaned softly, deleting the message once more before turning your phone off entirely. This felt…weird. Just a few days ago Jake’s texts felt like notifications of doom and despair. You hated them. So why did his silence feel worse?

You stared down at your nails. The half chipped nail polish you had been nervously chewing off looked as awful as ever. Should I get a manicure? But… Chaerin wasn’t free. Chisa and Jurin were probably busy too. So what? You could go alone. Why were you waiting for anyone?

Yeah a small reward. Maybe motivation for your exams.

The nail salon wasn’t too far from your dorm. The sharp smell of nail polish and acetone hit you the moment you pushed the glass door open and stepped inside. After explaining the design you wanted, you sank into the padded chair, finally allowing yourself to relax. For once, things felt calm and peaceful. But that peace didn’t last long because the moment you turned your head slightly — your stomach dropped. Fuck. Sadie.

She was sitting right next to you, getting her nails done, laughing at something her nail artist had said. And just as if fate wanted to ruin your day further her eyes landed on you. You cursed under your breath.“H-hi…” you forced out, offering a tight lipped smile. Her response was a scowl and the nastiest glare you had ever received.

Okayyyy. Let’s just pretend that never happen.

You turned your head away, sitting as stiff as possible for the rest of the session, painfully aware of her gaze burning into the side of your face. You were in the middle of getting your cuticles pushed back, trying to ignore everything, when suddenly her figure appeared behind your nail artist. Before you could react she shoved your nail artist, who stumbled forward. The metal tool scraped against your skin in a flash.

“Ouch!” you hissed, flinching as a sharp sting shot through your fingers.

“I’m so sorry! Oh my god, are you okay?” your nail artist immediately stepped back, panicked, turning toward the source of everything that just went down. Saddie shrugged. “Sorry, I didn’t see you.”

What a bitch.

“I-it’s okay,” you managed, even though the skin around your nail was already starting to bleed. So much for a peaceful evening.

Jake stared at his answer for a solid fifteen minutes, eyes wide and watery as he tried to figure out what the hell he had just written. With a frustrated sigh, he deleted the entire paragraph. A tissue was stuffed into one of his nostrils as he struggled to stay sane and not sneeze again. Running a fever while preparing for darn sem finals felt like a survival show.

A soft knock broke his concentration.

He let out an annoyed sound. “Sunghoon, I told you stop bothering me”

The door creaked open slightly and Sunghoon peeked in, his expression unusually concerned. “I swear the dean will forgive you for one bad paper,”

Jake huffed. “I don’t care.”

Sunghoon hesitated for a moment before adding, “Uh… someone’s here for you” and Jake frowned. “Who?”

Instead of answering, Sunghoon pushed the door open wider, revealing you. You were standing there, glancing around the living room while trying to process the caveman level lifestyle these boys were living in. Jake’s eyes widened and he shot up immediately, only for his legs to wobble as pain shot through his joints. You rushed forward instinctively, grabbing his arm just as Sunghoon stepped in to help. The two of you guided him back to the bed.

Sunghoon looked between you both, then shrugged. “I’ll leave you guys to it,” he muttered before walking out.

You finally turned your full attention to Jake.“Damn. You look like you’re dying.”

He chuckled weakly, blowing his nose. “Yeah? You’re not invited to the funeral, by the way. The food’s gonna be great.” You rolled your eyes. Even sick, he is unbearable ugh.

“Sooo…” he leaned back, a lazy, teasing smile forming on his lips. “Did you miss me?”

God, you regretted coming here.

You swallowed. “No?”

“That came out way too fast. That means you did miss me—ouch!” he winced when you kicked his foot. “Have some mercy on a sick man, damn.” You huffed and tossed the plastic bag you were holding onto his lap. Jake blinked, confused, before peeking inside.

“…Oranges?!”

You tried not to smile too proudly at the way his entire demeanor shifted. He had clearly been craving them. Well It’s not like you spent a whole night stalked his old Instagram highlights from 2017 and saw a 13 years old Jake in his post basketball tournament, holding a trophie and a big box of fresh oranges from his hometown in Brisbane.

You cleared your throat. “Uh… consider it payment for the p-popsicle.”

A faint blush crept onto your cheeks. Jake set the bag aside and began peeling one, his eyes never leaving yours “sure”

You couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Even sick, he looked annoyingly good. His flushed face, slightly watery eyes, and glossed lips from constantly licking them.

“Speaking of which…” he suddenly stood up making you instinctively stepped back. “Why did you run away like that...that day?”

“I did not!” you protested, flailing your hands, only for him to catch your arms mid motion. “Right…?” he tilted his head, a grin forming. “are you shy?” He laughed softly, and you immediately cursed yourself for stepping inside the lion's den.“I am not!” you snapped, your voice rising. His grip shifted from your forearms to your wrists, holding you in place as your back bumped against the edge of his study desk.

I need to run. I need to run RIGHT NOW.

Your screamed in your head but your body stayed rooted while jake continued with his snarky remarks. Suddenly the sharp edge of the desk pressed against your injured finger.

“Ow!” you yelped. Jake paused immediately letting your wrist go. “shit are you okay?”

You rubbed the spot, shaking your head. “Y-yeah, I’m fine don’t worry!”

But he had already grabbed your hand. His eyes dropped to the cut, still slightly bleeding even under the bandage.

“Jake, you don’t have to do this—I should go—stop—ouch! slowly asshole!”

Your protests faded as he ignored you completely, carefully applying medicine to the wound. You watched him quietly, his brows furrowed in concentration, his touch surprisingly gentle. And slowly… your chest warmed. Maybe…he wasn’t that bad. You bit your lip, trying to make sense of your thoughts. You would’ve done the same if he showed up hurt at your door, right? But then again, why would he ever come to you? He had plenty of other places to go.

He’d probably run back to Evelyn.

Your body stiffened. Why did that thought bother you? Wasn’t this the whole point from the beginning? There was nothing to feel upset about.

Jake Sim was just living up to his reputation. Your thoughts were cut short when he suddenly shoved a piece of orange into your mouth.

“Stop thinking too much.”

You blinked, chewing slowly. Your finger was now neatly cleaned and re-bandaged. Your gaze drifted back to Jake who had already settled comfortably on his bed, munching on the remaining slices of orange. Stomach doing that weird twists again. You stood up slowly. “It’s late… I should go.”

This was bad.

He didn’t even look up and just hummed in response.

This was so bad.

You turned toward the door. Wouldn’t he say something? Anything?

You paused, waiting. But nothing came.

This was so fucking bad.

“Goodnight, Jake,” you muttered under your breath, hoping he wouldn’t hear it from under his duvet.

“Yeah… this is pretty bad,” Jake muttered, zooming in on the picture of you and Heeseung laughing over scattered notes on the table. He clicked his tongue, though his expression remained unreadable. It wasn’t like he cared anyway, at least, that’s what he told himself. He turned his phone off and rolled onto his side, facing the wall. Whatever.

“I believe this is not the first time you all are giving a test… still, I will do the final courtesy of reminding you that cheating is absolutely prohibited. Anyone caught cheating will be penalised according to Decelis rulebook…”

Professor Min’s voice felt unusually overwhelming today. You checked the clock, then your laptop screen. Is Jake feeling better now? It had been exactly one week since you last spoke. The bandage he had carefully wrapped around your finger had long been replaced by Chaerin, but somehow, the warmth of his fingertips still lingered. You shook your head. Focus. You forced your attention back to the test paper in front of you.

“Are you fucking kidding me? The test just ended and you’re telling me 50% of our grade still depends on this dumbass assignment?!” Sunghoon groaned, shoving his phone in front of Jay, who looked like he was about to pass out. “How the fuck are you so chill about it?” Jungwon leaned over to peek at Jake’s laptop screen, where he had already started gathering materials for the assignment.

“Party at Soobin’s who’s in?” Sunoo chimed in, instantly grabbing everyone’s attention.“Let’s fucking go. I’m so sick of these exams and assignments,” Sunghoon wailed dramatically, only to fall silent when Jake spoke.“Not coming.”

He scoffed. “Yeah, suit yourself.”

“Exam is overrrr, finally!” Chisa sang, doing a little celebratory dance. “Oh my God, guys! I just got an invitation from Soobin to attend his dope party...and....he even said I could bring whoever I want!” Jurin squealed, joining her.

“No.”

The word left both you and Chaerin at the same time. “Every single bad thing happens there,” you muttered, earning an “exactly!” from Chaerin who nodded her head in agreement. Chisa whined. “Oh, come onnn, Chae—you did have fun at that senior party. And Y/n! don’t act like you won’t be cozying up with your boyfriend.”

You flushed instantly. “N-no?! We’re not even dating like that!”

“Yeah… not yet,” Jurin added with a grin.

“Not happening everrr,” you made a fake throwing up sound.

.…Well. You did say that before.

But now, sitting in Jake’s room with blankets bunched around your legs, a bowl of popcorn resting on your lap, and an iPad screen still loading movie details, you wondered if the universe was playing some twisted joke on you. After ghosting you for two weeks, he had suddenly texted. And here you were. “Why the hell are you sitting so far away?” Jake muttered, grabbing your arm and pulling you closer. You yelped. “No—no! I’m fine!”

He gave you a weird look before pressing play. You barely registered what the movie was about. Spaceships and dinosaurs blurred together as your thoughts spiraled uncontrollably. Right, he said he was stressed because of assignments and needed someone to be his popcorn holder. What a hell of an excuse.

You dared to steal a glance at Jake who was at this point completely immersed in the movie, eyes focused, expression calm. Damn he is such a science freak. I mean not like I was complaining anyway.

Actually, you were. You missed the comfort of your bed and jake's touch—No. Stop.

You shook your head violently. What the hell were you even thinking?Jake suddenly paused the movie and turned to you. “You okay?” You nodded quickly. “Uh huh! Completely!” He stared at you for a solid five seconds before sighing. “Okay. I’m bored. Feed me popcorn while I work on my assignment.”

You blinked.

He raised his eyebrows “you got any problem?”

“But what about the movie??”

“I’ve watched it five times.”

You stared at him, dumbfounded “then why the fuck did you even turn it on, idiot?”

“Because I wanted to, dimwit,” he laughed, already opening his laptop and scooting even closer to you. The rest of the night passed in a blur of bickering and chaos. Your phone buzzed nonstop with texts from Chisa and Jurin sending funny pictures of a drunk Chaerin.

You looked down at your fingers. The sticky feeling of caramel and alongside Jake's tongue brushing against them was lingering there. Your toes curled under the blanket. You swallowed hard, staring blankly ahead.

You didn’t want to admit it yet.

“After having an extensive conversation with the principal, we’ve decided to resume our yearly academic gala after four years of discontinuation.”

The vice chancellor’s announcement echoed through the auditorium, immediately followed by gasps, whispers, and rising excitement. “Why did they discontinue it again…?” Chaerin whispered beside you, still half-asleep as it was unusual for students to be summoned this early. “Some seniors got into a fight,” a random girl nearby replied “ and one of them even ended up with a head concussion.”

You made a weird face. Who the hell does that elementary level nonsense?

Anyways, you had greater problems to worry about than this gala which was about to take place months from now on. Not like you were interested to participate anyways. There was like hundreds of unspoken rule about participation by seniors which included having a mandatory 'attractive' date and wearing limited edition shits. So where does the middle class ugly kid goes? Nowhere silly! They stayed in their dorm while the rich kids drowned themselves in expensive alcohol and drugs.

“Need help?”

You flinched at the sudden voice cutting through your thoughts, then relaxed when you saw Heeseung’s familiar smile peeking out from under his hoodie. “Nahhh, I can reach it—see?” you said, stretching your arm to grab the design book you’d been eyeing. He laughed “no, dumbo. I meant…” He stepped closer and lightly tapped your forehead with his index finger. “There’s a lot going on in here.”

You rolled your eyes “Being a second year architecture major is not for the weak.” He chuckled, then crouched slightly to match your height. “Mhm… I don’t think this is about architecture at all, baby. There’s gotta be a mole.”

You shook your head and raised your hand to flick his forehead. “That’s not it—”

But before your fingers could reach him, another hand shot in and grabbed your wrist. Startled, both you and heeseung turned — and there he was.

Jake.

His expression was sharper than usual, a pair of bold black framed glasses rested on his nose, his uncombed hair falling messily over his forehead.

“You really should stop getting into people’s business,” he said coldly looking into Heeseung's eyes who let out a quiet sigh. “Yeah, my bad. Didn’t realise my boyfriend was into my girlfriend.”

Your tried your best to stay calm as Jake’s grip on your wrist tightened. “Fuck off,” he snapped.

Heeseung simply winked at you, mouthing 'got the mole', before slinging his bag over his shoulder and walking away. The moment he disappeared, you yanked your hand free and rubbed your wrist. “Stop showing up like that.”

Jake crossed his arms, scoffing. “Don’t you think you’re getting a little too comfortable with our deal?” You frowned. “It’s still on. What the hell did I even do wrong?”

He glanced around briefly, checking for anyone nearby, then leaned in slightly. “Getting all cozy with that guy is enough to ruin everything. Evelyn wouldn't even take me seriously at this rate.”

You ignored him, flipping open the book in your hands. “I think you just want to annoy me. This whole ‘making Evelyn jealous’ thing feels like an excuse. Why would a guy with a disgusting reputation like yours even try this hard for someone? You could literally just sleep with anyone and get whoever you want—”

You stopped abruptly, realising how harsh that sounded.

Slowly, you looked up at him. Jake’s expression remained stoic but his grip on the strap of his bag had tightened.

“And what makes you think I’m not fucking other girls while pretending to be in this ‘thing’ with you?” he asked flatly.

A lump formed in your throat and you tried to step closer instinctively. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean it like tha—”

“You know what your problem is?” he cut in, his voice sharp. “Girls like you think you’re superior than others just because you don’t go out, don’t have fun, don’t have any social life outside your stupid syllabus and assignments. When in reality, nobody ever actually chooses you.”

Something inside you cracked. Before you could respond, he stormed past you, his shoulder colliding with yours hard enough to push you back against the bookshelf.

Empty vessels make the loudest noise. Yes that was it. Of course Jake had no right to feel anything when he himself had built that image around him. But who were you even trying to convince? You weren’t supposed to feel like shit. And yet, you felt the worst.

“I can’t find my hoop earrings, what the hell…” Chaerin muttered, rummaging through your drawer and scattering everything in the process which you barely paid attention to. You really weren’t in the fucking mood.

Should I apologise? You bit your nails. But I was trying to...he didn’t even give me a chance.Your head was a mess, thoughts clashing into each other until they turned into an ugly emotion you couldn’t even name anymore.

“You’ve been sighing for the past half an hour. Just spit it out already,” Chaerin said absentmindedly, still searching for her jewellery. You rolled onto your bed, facing her. “I think I messed up.”

“Again???”

The silence that followed felt heavy. Slowly, Chaerin stopped moving.“What’s wrong?”

“I messed up.”

“No shit. About what?” She scooted closer. You bit your lips, trying to organise your thoughts before they spilled out in a word vomit. “Y/n, what are you thinking…” she nudged you lightly. That was enough to make you sit up abruptly, words tumbling out before you could manage them. “I think I have some…ehhh for Jake and I kind of pissed him off and he misunderstood me and—”

“Hold on.” Chaerin grabbed your shoulders. “You have what for Jake?”

You stared at her blankly. “ehhh”

“I swear I’m going to slap the shit out of you if you don’t get to the point,” she shook you violently and you gave up, instantly collapsing back onto the bed and pulling the duvet over your head. “Don’f hate mhme, Chaerin… I—I don’t know hoow it happenfed…”

She sighed, shaking her head, then peeked under the covers, only to find your face wet with tears and snots. “ew, gross” she muttered, covering you again. The room fell silent except for your quiet sobs. After a moment, you felt her hand gently resting on your head. “hey...It’s okay to like someone you know. And why are you crying, idiot? Get up,” she let out a small laugh. You slowly lowered the duvet, eyes red, nose sniffly as you grabbed a tissue “I hurt him, Chae…”

She shrugged. “Apologise. Problem solved.” You blowed your nose out, reaching for another tissue. “I don’t think he’s going to talk to me anymore…” Chaerin paused, thinking “then you accept it and move on. You can’t stay stuck like this forever, baby.”

Your chest tightened. Fresh tears welled up again, as you laid back down.

“I didn’t mean it like that… I didn’t…”

She laid down beside you, wrapping her arms around your torso. “If he feels the same, he’ll accept your apology.”

“you saying?”

“mmh hmm”

# 5 look back

The next time you saw Jake, almost after one week, he was in the library working on his assignments, attention full focused and absorbed in his laptop. You hesitated at the entrance. Even after Chaerin’s reassurance, your courage wavered. Well at this point it's now or never.

You walked in, your Kuromi keychain swinging with each step, and sat down in the empty chair beside him. You knew he felt your presence right away because the moment you turned towards him, he subtly shifted away. Oh. So that’s how it was. Fine, you weren’t backing out either. “Okay, listen… I’ll keep it short,” you whispered, leaning in just enough that your voice brushed against his ear. You could smell his familiar woody scent mixed with something musky.

“I’m sorr—”

Jake stood up. The chair scraped loudly against the floor, drawing a few annoyed glances from nearby students. Without saying a word, he packed his laptop and bag and started walking away. “Jake, wait—” You stood up to follow, but before you could take another step, three figures blocked your path.

Not now oh my god.

“Hi Y/n!” one of them chirped with a smile that didn’t quite reach their eyes. “Mind having a little talk?”

Your legs forgot their purpose as your pupils darted between the familiar faces standing in front of you. Yunjin casually threw an arm around your shoulder, steering you away from the library entrance, with Daniella and Ahyeon following close behind. “So… I heard you designed last year’s college carnival banner?” Ahyeon asked, twirling a strand of her perfectly curled hair.

“I—uh… yeah…” you stammered. “Great!” Daniella clapped excitedly, but immediately stopped when Yunjin shot her a sharp glare. The poor girl cleared her throat and turned to you with an stiff smile. “We’re having a small introduction party for our new cheerleading recruits. Mind designing a banner for us?” Your brain scrambled, trying to calculate what would happen if you refused, but it came up blank.

“Uh… sure. When do you need it?” you asked hesitantly.

“By tomorrow!” Daniella replied, a little too enthusiastically.

You sighed internally. Tomorrow meant Professor Min’s mandatory lecture, so the banner had to be done today. “But I don’t have any materials right now–” Before you could finish, Ahyeon and Yunjin grabbed your arms from either side. “Don’t worry,” Ahyeon chimed. “We already got permission from the art department to use their supplies!”

You didn’t get a chance to decline as the three of them dragged you across Decelis campus toward the art department, away from the library. Usually, the art students were extremely protective of their materials, so you were surprised and even relieved to find the main room was completely empty.

Daniella gave a squeeze on your shoulder. “We’ll wait for you in the library!” And just like that, the three of them disappeared, leaving you alone.

You began gathering supplies, trying to sketch out a rough design in your head. But actually nothing formed since your mind wasn’t empty at all — it was overflowing with jake jake jake and JAKE. Was he really never going to talk to you again? Well if that was it, then fine. It wasn’t like you were going to die if you did not see him.

But it totally felt like you would.

The memory of him ignoring you replayed over and over again, tightening something painful in your chest. You sighed. I need a break. Maybe working on the banner would distract you.

You stood up, suddenly realising you hadn’t asked for any details about the party. You needed them for the design. So you walked toward the door and stopped discovering it closed.

A frown formed on your face. Was it like this when I came in?

You grabbed the handle and pulled. It didn’t budge at all. A sharp wave of panic surged through you and the markers slipped from your hands, clattering loudly onto the floor.

“What the fuck…”You tugged at the handle again. Nothing.

You banged on the door.

“Guys??”

No response came as you knocked harder. “Hello?! Anyone here?!” Silence welcomed you again and this time you slammed your body against the heavy iron door. Again and again, but it didn’t move. Your energy drained quickly, knees weakening, your throat burned from shouting. And after few tries of banging again and calming yourself down, tears slowly welled up and spilled down your cheeks, you bit your lip.

A full circle moment, huh?

The memory hit you like a slap, locking Jake in the sports room just a month ago. Was this karma?

You wiped your tears roughly with the back of your hand, shaking your head. No. You weren’t giving up.

You stepped back, inhaled deeply, and shouted again, louder this time.

“Somebody help me! The door is locked from outside!”

“Okay, so hypothetically, what would you do if I told you Decelis has a ghost?”

Heeseung barely registered a word Beomgyu was saying whose mouth was stuffed with banana chips, crumbs flying everywhere as he talked. Heeseung sighed and closed the book he was reading, then snatched the packet from Beomgyu’s hand. “I mean, that explains why the art department students are always in a bad mood…” Beomgyu continued, leaning closer. “I once stole a roll of art paper—you should’ve seen the way one of them threatened to slit my throat with a craft knife.”

Heeseung finished the remaining chips and tossed the empty packet at Beomgyu’s head “Idiot why would you steal their stuff in the first place? Art paper is expensive.”

Beomgyu rolled his eyes “so??? I heard someone comitted over an argument about art supplies. That’s probably why they hold grudges like that…”

Heeseung checked his watch. Almost 6:30 pm.

He really needed to leave before Beomgyu’s nonsense drained whatever brain cells he had left. “Okay, whatever. Go buy me a drink,” he shoved his shoulder. Beomgyu made a horrified face. “Are you crazy??? The vending machine is literally beside the art department, and it’s the hour of doom. The sun has already set, and look! There are no birds flying back home, and I—”

Heeseung stood up. No this idiot won't stop. “Fine. Suit yourself. I’m going alone.”

“Fuck, what’s wrong with this…” he muttered under his breath when the vending machine failed to process his coins for the second time. “This is it. If it doesn’t work now, I’m getting the hell outta here,” he whispered to himself, trying again for the third time. While waiting, he glanced around, quietly laughing at Beomgyu’s stupidity. With a mechanical clunk, the drink finally dropped into the slot. He relaxed, bending down to pick it up and he paused.

A faint knock came out from the closed art department room. Heeseung froze for a second, a chill creeping up his spine. What the fuck. His eyes scanned around the large iron door. Then he shook his head.

This was Beomgyu’s nonsense getting into his head.

He grabbed his drink and turned to leave. Another knock came louder this time followed by sniffles. He stopped mid step. His grip tightened around the can as he slowly turned back. Something wasn’t right. He walked toward the door in long strides, stopping right in front of it. It was locked from the outside. He cleared his throat. “Is anyone inside?”

The sniffles stopped for a moment, silence filled the space.

Had he imagined it?

And then a voice called out for help. Heeseung didn’t hesitate this time. He quickly unlocked the door and pulled it open. “Y/N?? What are you—” You didn’t let him finish. The moment the door opened, you rushed forward and threw yourself into his arms, clinging to him tightly as your sobs broke out uncontrollably.

Jake stared hard at the pink bouquet, filled with roses, lilies, and a few other flowers he didn’t even know the names of. A frustrated exhale left his mouth as he let out a groan he had been suppressing for a long time. He had bought them hours ago, some of the petals had already started to wither. Now, sitting on the bleachers of the campus, he couldn’t understand what had possessed him to do so.

Jake is plain, he wasn’t a gentleman. Until now, his charm had worked on almost everyone, whether he wanted it to or not. There had never been a reason for him to buy flowers or take someone out on a proper date. At most, he’d share pirated movies with them or let them sit beside him while he played games on his computer. But this? Completely out of his syllabus. So what now? He had bought them so he should have given them to the person he wanted to — but who had he really bought them for?

Fuck. Okay he knows it's for you alright? And he also knows roses and lilies are your favourite flower from that particular shop you always gushed about when their catalogue popped up in your for you page. He knows it, he knows what he's doing but his mind is slowly failing to generate excuses why he would do this.

“shit,” he muttered under his breath, pushing himself up to his feet. He pulled out his phone, which he hadn’t checked since morning. He was scared, scared that he’d see your name in his notifications and run straight to you. His ego was far too fragile for that. And yet, the moment his phone connected to the campus wi fi, the first notification that appeared was from you.

Six hours ago.

I’m in the art department. let me know when you’re free, I want to talk to you.

Please.

His legs moved before his eyes could fully read the message. In seconds, he found himself sprinting towards the art department, on forth floor.

“Hey, shh… what happened?” Heeseung cupped your face gently, his thumb wiping away the tears that wouldn’t stop falling. “I was scared… m-my phone died, and I—I couldn’t reach anyone,” you choked out between sobs, clutching his shirt tightly, as if letting go would make some unknown creature drag you inside the room again. He didn’t ask for details, didn’t need them. All he cared about was calming you down. So he let you hold onto him, let you cry until your breathing steadied, until the panic slowly drained out of your body.

Moments ago, the room had felt like a prison with sealed windows, locked doors, suffocating silence. You had truly thought you might be trapped there forever.

And then through your blurred vision, you noticed a figure standing a few feet away. Panting and watching. Your breath hitched.

Jake.

His glasses were slightly crooked, his chest rising and falling rapidly from the run. All sweaty from skipping the elevator and taking stairs to reach to you fast.

The moment you recognized him, a sharp ringing filled your ears. You let go of Heeseung almost instantly and stepped toward him. “Jake you came...”

Suddenly he stepped back. A hollow, almost bitter laugh escaped him. “Is this why you called me here? To watch your cliché romance?”

Your stomach dropped. What? No no no no no he's getting it all wrong.

“No Jake listen–” You reached out for him, but before your fingers could touch him, he smacked your hand away. “Don’t.”

Behind you, you felt Heeseung step closer. His voice cut through the tension, uncharacteristically serious as the weight of the situation multiplied rapidly “can you stop being a dick for once?”

Jake’s eyes flickered, irritation flashing across his face. “And why should I take advice from a weirdo like you?”

Heeseung’s jaw tightened and he grabbed your arm, gently pulling you aside, placing himself between you and Jake. “Listen, deepshit—if you actually used that thing on your eyes of yours, you’d see the state she’s in—”

"I don't need to" Jake let out a shaky breathe. He refused to look at your way, cuz he knew if he did he would say something which would harder for him to take back later.

“Y/n…” he began,

“our deal is off.” he finished with a stone expression.

“You can fuck around him as much as you want now,” he continued, taking a deep breathe “but I really wish we had met in a different way.”

Before you could respond to him, he turned and and started walking away without looking back.

“Jake wait!” you called out, your voice breaking as you ran after him, ignoring Heeseung’s hand reaching out to stop you.

Down the stairs, through the empty corridor you called out his name but he was simply gone. Disappointed when you walked back your steps slowed as your eyes fell on a nearby trash can, where a bouquet of lilies and roses wrapped in pink was dumped.

Discarded like it meant nothing. Your chest tightened as you stared at it, the pieces falling into place far too late.

NEXT PART. ©sunishake

[i2sunric]

SIREN SOUNDS (l.hs)

PAIRING: f1 racer!heeseung x nurse!reader (f)

SUMMARY: after ferrari’s golden boy crashes in order to save his teammate, he is stuck at the hospital with burns all over his body. between long shifts and the hospital’s desolation, he brings a light in your life that is hard to forget once he’s free to go home.

WARNINGS: feat enhypen RIKI and JAKE. hospital settings, medical terms, mentions of car crashes, blood, burns, mentions of death (brief description, not detailed), mentions of abusive parent, medical conditions, lmk if more. NOT PROOFREAD.

PUBLISHED: 16th February 2026

WC: 11.7k

TAGLIST: (permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @jwnghyuns @bangtancultsposts @shawnyle @jooniesbears-blog @skzenhalove @ro-diaries @onlyhyunjin @xcosmi @heeheeswifey @jakeflvrz @astratlantis @tunafishyfishylike @branchrkive @insommni4 @kirinaa08 @leiclerc @nxzz-skz @beomluvrr @heeshlove @17ericas @riribelle @cloud-lyy @enhamonsterghoul @star-hoon @princesstiti14 @mintchocoddeonut @lostgirlysstuff @firstclassjaylee @jazz7gnab

NOW PLAYING: Siren Sounds (Bonus) by Tate McRae

a/n: i believe this could’ve turned out better but i wanted to publish my babies (i’ve been writing them since this summer) so please lmk your thought and opinions!! 🩷🫶 RIKI’S SEQUEL IS OUT!!

The emergency room had seen chaos before, but tonight felt heavier.

It started with sirens, loud and insistent, even through the thick hospital walls, and a nurse rushing in with wide eyes and a shaking tablet.

“Two criticals inbound, Formula one accident. One with full-body burns and head trauma, the other with a compound leg fracture and suspected internal bleeding.”

You didn’t look up until the gurneys were rolled in. The automatic doors swung open with a hiss, letting in two stretchers, wheeled fast.

The first man on the left stretcher wasn’t moving, blood was matting the dark fringe of his hair, and his face was pale under the running crimson.

His racing suit, at least, what remained of it, was slit down the middle already, soaked through.

The other one was conscious, barely. He was moaning low, his gloved hand clutching at his stomach.

His helmet was off, but there were burn marks curling along the side of his jaw, climbing his neck like vines. His left eye was bloodshot, and blood was crusting near his temple.

Someone called names, the trauma doctor barking orders, nurses scattering.

"Male, in his twenties, suspected third-degree burns, signs of cranial impact, get a scan, now!”

You walked beside them, flipping through the patient file as quickly as it populated.

Blood type, height, weight, nothing else yet. No names. Just codenames and a tag: F1 INCIDENT – NIGHT PRACTICE RUN.

The burn patient was rushed straight into the burn unit. The younger one too, the boy, he looked like a boy, no older than nineteen, with a mess of internal damage. You heard the word “rupture.” Someone else said “splintered bone.”

The moment the doors shut behind the burning team, you exhaled and leaned against the wall.

“Oh my God.” One of the nurses beside you whispered. “That’s Lee Heeseung and Nishimura Riki… holy shit.”

You blinked. “Who?”

The girl stared at you like you had three heads. “Heeseung? He’s like… a living legend in F1. He won Monaco last year blind in one eye… you seriously don’t know?”

You shrugged. “Not really my thing.”

She shook her head. “Well, it’l be now.”

And in fact, two hours later, you were re-assigned.

“Y/N, you’ll be in the burning unit monitoring, in a private suite.” The charge nurse handed you a clipboard. “VIP patient.”

You glanced down at the name, written in capital letters: LEE HEESEUNG

The report was horrifying, with skin grafts that started on both arms and his left shoulder, smoke inhalation damage that would be treated by manually removing it with a tube in the lung.

Followed by a nasty concussion with swelling that had the neurosurgeon double-checking his pupils every ten minutes, and last but not least a multiple rib fractures from the crash impact.

He’d been put in a medically induced coma for the first few hours, and the sedation wouldn’t wear off until sometime tomorrow. You’d be there to monitor vitals, manage the IV, prep for re-evaluation.

His room was on the east wing, he kind of suite reserved for politicians or royalty.

You slipped inside quietly. Heeseung looked worse now that everything was cleaned up.

The bandages made it more real, he gauze that circled half his head, the IVs in both arms, the oxygen line.

You adjusted the chart at the foot of his bed, but there was a whisper of movement behind you that distracted you.

The man that stepped in wasn’t that tall, with tousled hair and hoodie slung half-off his shoulder. There was dried blood on his jeans.

“Are you the nurse assigned to Heeseung?”

You nodded. “Just got here, are you family? Visiting hours are over.”

“I’m the— uh, manager. My name’s Sim Jake.” He extended his hand, but it trembled, so he dropped it. “Sorry, I— fuck, I can’t think. Is he stable?”

You nodded slowly. “He made it through all the check ups without surgery. He’s sedated, but stable. We’ll have to monitor him for the next 24 hours very closely, especially with the head injury.”

Jake exhaled so hard his shoulders dropped. “And Riki?” he asked quietly.

“From what I heard, he’s still in surgery.”

He pressed his palms together, his eyes were red-rimmed, like he’d been crying or lacked sleeping “They said it was gonna be a regular night, y’know? pre-race laps. Heeseung didn’t even wanna go.”

You stayed quiet. You’d seen people talk to cope, and you learned how to let them.

Jake stared at the bed, at Heeseung’s unconscious body, and then sat down heavily in the corner chair.

“There was a malfunction,” he said slowly. “In Riki’s brakes, his car didn’t slow down on the fourth turn. It’s a corner he usually takes at normal speed, but he went full throttle tonight, he really wanted to impress everyone.” he swallowed, “he didn’t know. Couldn’t have, there was no control. He was headed straight for the barricade, and spectators were there… families with kids.”

You frowned slightly, brows pulling.

“Heeseung… he saw it. He was in front Riki but he saw what was about to happen, he heard it from the communications radio,” he sighed “so he— he pulled out of line, he s werved into his path.”

Jake’s voice cracked. “He used his own car to stop Riki’s, took the hit full-on, it exploded on fire on impact.”

Your throat felt tight. You glanced at Heeseung again, this time a little different.

“He sacrificed himself,” Jake said, hands fisting in his lap. “To stop Riki from plowing into the stands.”

You didn’t know what to say. You didn’t know how anyone could choose that kind of pain on purpose.

“He’s gonna live, right?” Jake asked, suddenly boyish. Less like a manager and more like a friend.

You nodded slowly, gaze still on the man lying in the bed. “We’ll do everything we can.”

🏁.

He slipped in and out of consciousness through the long stretch of the night, a haze of morphine clouding over his expression every time he stirred.

Most of it was just moaning, incoherent words under his breath, sometimes Riki’s name.

other times it was just soft whimpers, sharp exhales that caught against his bandaged ribs.

Once, around 3:40 AM, he jolted awake with a short cry and tried to move. His hands jerked upward instinctively, maybe to protect himself… maybe reaching for a steering wheel.

You had to catch his wrist gently and murmur softly until he settled again. “It’s okay,” you whispered, thumb brushing over his knuckles. “You’re safe, you’re not in the car anymore.”

His eyes fluttered beneath bruised lids, and for a second, he stared right through you.

His lips parted, dry and cracked. You held a straw to them and helped him sip water, watched him wince even from that tiny effort, and then he was gone again.

Back into the warmth of sedation, head rolling softly to one side. Morphine dripped slow into his IV. You monitored the levels and checked the rate. You replaced the saline bag when it was almost empty and you didn’t leave the room even when your shift technically ended.

By morning, you were back at your post before the sun had even fully risen.

You weren’t due for another hour, but you couldn't stay home knowing he might wake again confused, aching and… alone.

But when you entered the room, he was already awake. Well, barely, but it was something.

The soft hum of the monitor greeted you first. His vitals were holding steady, but the real sign was the way his eyes, still a bit unfocused, and a little raw, tracked you as you stepped in.

You set your clipboard down quietly and met his gaze. “Hey,” you said softly.

He blinked slowly, then frowned. “Fuck,” he rasped, “I’m not dead?”

His voice was hoarse, painful to hear, but you managed a small smile. “Not yet, sorry.”

A weak huff pushed from his chest, maybe a laugh, or maybe a cough, you couldn’t tell. He shifted, then immediately grimaced, body locking stiff.

“It’ll hurt,” you warned, reaching out to adjust his pillow. “Your ribs are still healing.”

“No shit,” he groaned, swallowing hard. “Why… why can’t I feel my neck? and my chest and arms feel—“ another cough “numb.”

You hesitate, then walked to the bedside. His eyes were clearer now, but clouded with the edge of something worse than fear. The dread of what he didn’t know yet.

“You have third-degree burns on your neck and parts of your chest and arms. The reason you can’t feel them is… because the nerves are gone.” You tried to explain it as easily as possible.

His eyes flicked downward toward his shoulder, then to the heavy gauze wrapping his forearm. He didn’t move, just stared. “Am I—” His voice caught. “How bad does it look?”

You exhaled. “Bad,” you said honestly. “But they did a clean graft. You’ll get function back, most likely. The nerve endings yes… maybe not sensation in some areas. But it’s early, the burn team will know more after the swelling goes down.”

He closed his eyes for a second, jaw clenching.

Silence stretched. Then, his throat worked, voice more broken than before. “Riki?”

You nodded slowly, folding your arms. “He’s alive, though still unconscious. He had internal bleeding, and a compound fracture in his left leg. He’s in post-op recovery now, but he’s stable.”

His entire face tightened, like the weight of it had finally dropped onto his chest. His fingers clenched weakly around the edge of the sheet, and he looked away, toward the window where the morning light was just beginning to creep in through the blinds.

“Good,” he said quietly. “Good. He— he’s just a kid.”

You sat down in the chair beside him, scribbled a note on the chart, and glanced over.

“He’s lucky,” you said softly. “that you were there.”

He didn’t answer.

You knew Jake was still outside. He’d arrived early again, eyes red, pacing the hallway like a ghost. You’d seen him hovering through the glass window earlier, glancing in, debating whether or not to come in.

Now, as Heeseung winced and shifted slightly, you knew he wouldn’t want to deal with him yet.

“You’ve got someone outside,” you said after a pause. “Jake, right? Your manager.”

Heeseung closed his eyes.

“I don’t have the energy for him right now,” he muttered. “He’s just gonna yell.”

“Then he can wait.” you stood, heading toward the door. “You need rest, not a lecture.”

You stepped out quietly and met Jake’s eyes. He stood up instantly. “Is he awake? Can I—?”

“He’s not in the mood to talk,” you said, keeping your voice low but firm. “He’s in pain, and he’s processing. Maybe come back tomorrow?”

Jake’s face fell, but he nodded, rubbing his hand over his mouth, murmured something that resembled a ‘thank you’ before stepping away.

When you returned to the room, Heeseung was still awake, eyes half-closed, the tension in his shoulders loosened by a fraction. “You want me to turn the lights down a bit?”

“Yeah,” he mumbled. “My eyes hurt.”

You moved to the wall, dimmed them until the room was cast in soft amber.

And when you returned to your seat, he glanced over, lips cracked, voice barely above a whisper. “…What’s your name?”

“Y/N.” you replied “I’ll be your nurse for the time you stay here.”

He blinked. “You’re the one who was here last night.”

“Yeah,” you said softly. “You tried to punch me when I held your hand.”

His brows creased. “Did I?”

“You missed.” You shrugged and a ghost of a smile touched his mouth, the first one real enough to settle.

🏁.

When you pushed the door open after your lunch break, it was with the quiet intent of checking Heeseung’s vitals, maybe adjusting his IV line again.

You expected him to still be in pain, perhaps trying to sleep it off. You did not expect what you found.

Three nurses, all hovering around his bed like moths to a dying flame.

One was adjusting his blanket even though it was already neatly draped, another was holding a spoon of soup like it was some kind of sacred ritual, and the last one— oh, she was massaging lotion onto the one patch of unburned skin on his hand with a focus that was frankly excessive.

Heeseung looked… tired. Not just physically, but emotionally drained, like he wasn’t sure what to do with the attention.

His eyes met yours almost instantly as you stepped in, and something like relief washed over his features.

You didn’t smile. “Out,” you just said, sharp but calm.

All three of them froze, as if you’d pulled the fire alarm. One nurse looked like she might argue, but you raised your brow just slightly, and she faltered.

“But we were just—”

“I’m sure you were,” you cut her off smoothly. “He’s under recovery care, not an autograph booth.”

The room grew ten degrees colder.

They scurried out with muttered apologies, not meeting your gaze. One of them left behind the bowl of half-stirred soup and a chocolate pudding cup on the tray.

Heeseung watched you settle the tray on the adjustable table and pull it close to him.

“So,” you said, lifting the spoon from the bowl, “how many fangirls have snuck in while I was gone?”

He grimaced slightly. “Only them, I tjink… one kept calling me ‘hero.’ I tried to play dead but they didn’t leave.”

You smirked faintly, scooping up a small portion of the lukewarm soup “Didn’t your mom ever teach you not to fake injuries for attention?”

He gave a weak chuckle. “Pretty sure I didn’t have to fake anything.”

You lifted the spoon to his lips, watching as he took the soup carefully, his lips parting just slightly, eyes grimacing a little at the taste. His neck muscles twitched, probably from strain, and he exhaled hard after swallowing.

“Jesus,” he muttered. “Is that soup or dishwater?”

“Hospital cuisine,” you said solemnly. “Five-star micheline.”

He took another spoonful, slowly, wincing just from the movement of his jaw.

He still looked rough, his color wasn’t good, skin pale and slightly ashy from the burn meds. His arms were stiff at his sides, bandaged still, and you could tell the hunger was there, but the effort… not so much.

You opened the pudding cup next, gave it a little stir with the plastic spoon. He looked at it like it was the most edible thing he’d seen in weeks.

“Oh thank god,” he said. “I’ve never been so excited for fake chocolate in my life.”

“Open up,” you said, and he did, the sweetness seeming to go down easier than the soup. He sighed, eyes fluttering closed for a moment.

“I thought I’d feel better today,” he murmured. “But I still feel like shit.”

“You’re not even forty-eight hours post the accident yet,” you reminded him. “Your body’s still trying to decide if it wants to forgive you.”

He shifted then, just a little, then a little more. “Careful—”

“I wanna sit up more,” he mumbled, already pressing one arm against the bed, trying to push himself.

You leaned in, firm but calm. “Heeseung, stop.”

“I can’t just lie here—”

“You literally must.”

His eyes flashed with stubbornness, but then he grimaced hard, pain tightening his mouth.

You reached out instinctively, palm flat on his shoulder, not the burned one, holding him still.

“Don’t be stupid,” you said quietly. “Your ribs are still cracked, you won’t win against gravity.”

His jaw clenched. “I hate this.”

“I know.”

He looked away, toward the window. The light outside was gentler now, filtered through the clouds.

His face was drawn, and you could see it in the way he held himself, he wasn’t just sore, he was frustrated

The kind of man who didn’t like stillness. Who probably measured his self-worth by his speed.

“You’re scheduled to remove some of the smoke still in your lungs,” you told him, “It will not be pleasant.”

“Great,” he said sarcastically, “On a scale from one to ten?”

You thought about if for a minute, “I’ve never done it, but I will not lie that I think it will be a solid eight.”

You adjusted the pillow behind his back carefully, angling the bed up a little more for him. He didn’t resist this time, just watched your hands.

“You’re not useless just because you’re healing,” you said, mentioning the previous conversation. “You saved someone. That’s not something your body gets over in a day.”

Heeseung was quiet for a long moment, the sound of the heart monitoring a steady pulse beside you.

“…he’s still not awake, right?” he asked softly.

You nodded. “Still out, but stable.”

He didn’t respond to that. Just stared out at the window again, jaw working.

You finished cleaning up the tray, wiping the corner of his mouth where a little pudding had smeared.

Your fingers brushed along his chin lightly, and for a second, his eyes dropped to your hand.

When you pulled back, he exhaled slowly.

“Thanks,” he said, voice lower now.

You didn’t smile, but your voice was soft. “Stop trying to get up, and I’ll bring you something that actually tastes like food tomorrow.”

He tilted his head slightly, as if considering, then gave a small nod.

“No fangirls,” you added, pointing an accusing finger towards him.

He smiled, just barely. “Only you then?”

You rolled your eyes and stood.

“Don’t push it.”

🏁.

Days blurred together like a long breath you couldn’t quite finish taking.

Outside, the world carried on, traffic, sunrises, clouds rolling over the hospital’s concrete edges, but inside that room, things moved slower.

Jake came every day now, just after lunch, always bringing a different set of sports magazines or articles printed off from the web.

Heeseung barely read them, but he listened when Jake talked about regular things, probably as not to overwhelm him with the fact that races continued wven as he laid on a hospital bed.

A video someone posted of Riki doing stupid tricks in a go-kart. They didn’t say much about the boy himself, not with him still in the ICU, but you could feel the tension crackle in Jake every time he left, like walking out of that room meant abandoning someone else who couldn’t speak for himself yet.

You didn’t press him, and yoou didn’t ask questions.

You were too busy with your own routine.

You came into Heeseung’s room just before the evening shift change.

The light outside had gone pale blue, casting long shadows across the tile floor.

You rolled in a small cart with the supplies, like bandages, ointments, saline and gauze. He was already sitting up a little, watching you.

His face still bore the bruises of the accident, but the swelling had gone down, and his eyes tracked your every movement now, sharp and clear.

“You get a new uniform?” he asked, voice less raspy than before but still colored with something teasing.

You raised an eyebrow. “It’s the same one you bled on two days ago. We just wash them sometimes.”

“Hot,” he murmured, then hissed softly as he tried to adjust his shoulder.

“Don't be cute,” you muttered. “It’s wound cleaning day.”

You started with his head. The bandage there had to be changed slowly, carefully, because the skin underneath was still raw and sensitive.

You gloved up, peeled back the old gauze from his temple, then gently dabbed at the edges of the injury with a saline-soaked pad.

He winced, but didn’t complain. Not like he had the first time. “You’re quieter than usual,” he said.

“You want me to make small talk while I pull the rest of your scabbed flesh off?” You raised a brow at him. He let out a breathy laugh and closed his eyes. “Yeah, I wouldn’t mind the distraction.”

You wrapped the fresh bandage around his head, secure but loose enough not to give him a headache.

Then you moved to his chest. He shifted again, the sheets falling to his lap as you pulled the gown down and exposed the burns that still ran like brutal red streaks from just below his collarbone down to the edge of his ribs, spreading across his right shoulder and part of his upper arm. Some had darkened and some peeled.

But all of it looked painful.

You dipped a gloved finger into the ointment and began carefully applying it over the healing areas.

You didn’t flinch at the way the flesh had hardened in some parts, blistered in others. You’d seen worse.

“You okay?” you asked softly.

“Yeah,” he said through his teeth. “Feels like acid.”

“It’s just medicine.”

“I know, but I like being dramatic.”

You gave a short laugh, smoothing the ointment into the side of his neck, then placed new gauze over it, pressing down gently to secure it.

“I don’t know how you do this every day,” he said after a while “I mean, taking care of people like this…. like me. It can’t be the easiest job.”

You shrugged, taping down the last piece. “I’ve had harder patients.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. There was this guy once who thought flirting through third-degree burns was charming.” you teased.

He chuckled, and you moved to his arms next, slowly peeling back the old dressings.

His skin twitched under the fresh air, his fingers curling instinctively. You worked in silence for a while, glancing up only when you noticed him watching you.

“What?” you asked.

He tilted his head a little. “Nothing, you just never talk about yourself.”

You finished smoothing a patch of ointment along his bicep before answering. “There’s not much to say.”

“Bullshit. You’re in here every day, making sure I don’t die of infection or morphine withdrawal. You clean me, feed me, fight off the occasional fangirl. You’ve gotta have more going on than this.”

You paused. Then looked up at him… you didn’t really have an entertaining life outside the hospital, so you opted for something safe. “I’m also assigned to another patient.”

He blinked. “Yeah?”

You nodded, wrapping his arm now. “A kid about nine years old. He came in with a collapsed lung.”

Heeseung stilled slightly. “Accident?”

“No.” you gulped. “His father beat the shit out of him.”

Something in his face twisted then, slow and ugly. You continued softly. “He’s doing better now. Still needs the oxygen support, but he’s laughing again. Oh, and he loves dinosaurs.”

Heeseung’s voice was low. “Do people like that guy, his father, just get to walk around free?”

“It’s… complicated.” You said, your hands working focused. “He’s on the loose, police are searching for him.”

“Fuck.” He exhaled sharply, then looked away. “I thought I had it bad.”

You finished dressing the last of his wounds, peeling off your gloves with a soft snap and tossing them into the bin.

“You did,” you said quietly. “Pain doesn’t need to compete.”

He looked at you again then, for a long time. You weren’t sure what was in his eyes exactly. Respect, maybe sadness. Something softer, too.

“Thanks,” he said.

You gave him a faint smile, then reached for the blanket again, pulling it over his legs gently. “Don’t move too much tonight.”

“No promises.” Heeseung shrugged.

“I’ll sedate you if I have to.” you threatened.

He smirked. “Wouldn’t be the worst thing you’ve done to me.”

You rolled your eyes, gathered your supplies, and started toward the door. Before you stepped out, you glanced back.

He was still looking at you. Not like a patient looking at a nurse.

Like a man trying to understand someone he suddenly realized he didn’t know at all.

🏁.

Riki woke up the following week.

The update came in quietly, just after sunrise, passed from the ICU nurse on duty to your floor with that same hushed relief you’d felt pressing at the back of your ribs since the accident.

He was conscious, but weak. He was. fading in and out of sleep, but breathing on his own, and whispering broken sentences when someone leaned in close enough to hear.

You didn’t rush to tell Heeseung.

You waited until you finished your morning rounds, changed his bandages, fed him half of his usual breakfast. He didn’t complain today. Not once, and that alone told you his mind was elsewhere.

It wasn’t until you were refilling his IV fluids that you finally told him.

“Riki’s awake,” you said simply, not looking up as you slid the fresh saline bag onto the pole.

The stillness in the room shifted sharply.

Heeseung’s voice was instant, a little breathless. “When?”

“This morning.” You turned to him. “He’s in the trauma unit now. They transferred him just after stabilizing.”

He didn’t say anything for a second. His hands flexed slightly at his sides. “Can I see him?”

You hesitated. “You’re not exactly in any shape to—”

“I can sit,” he cut in quickly. “If I sit in a wheelchair, I can do it. I swear I won’t move. Just— five minutes. Please.”.

He was still so pale. The bruising around his eye had darkened into a dull ochre. The bandages on his neck peeked out from under his gown. His arm was trembling just from lifting the glass of water earlier.

He wasn’t ready. But you also knew he’d never feel ready, and something told you he wouldn’t rest until he saw Riki for himself.

You sighed, pulling your gloves off. “Alright, but you don’t lift a finger. You move wrong and I’ll have you sedated for real this time.”

He smiled weakly. “God, that’s hot.”

You shot him a flat look. “Try me.”

You brought the chair around slowly. He watched every motion as you locked the brakes, looped the IV pole onto the hooks, and adjusted the footrest to keep his legs steady. Then came the hard part.

“Okay,” you said gently, moving to his side. “You’re gonna need to lean forward on three. I’ll brace your back. Use your left arm if you can. The right’s still healing.”

He nodded once, already concentrating “One… two.. three.”

He grunted as he moved, your arm slipping under his to guide his weight forward. It took everything in him not to scream, you could tell.

His ribs were like cracked glass, one wrong shift and he’d shatter. But he bit it back, his jaw clenched, and let you ease him into the wheelchair slowly.

Once he was seated, you adjusted his gown to keep the bandages covered, re-checked the IV tube to make sure it wasn’t pulled, and only when everything was steady did you release a breath.

“You good?” you asked.

He nodded slowly. “Yeah.. fuck. I feel like a grandpa.”

The trauma unit wasn’t far, but you still took it slow. Every bump in the linoleum seemed to jolt through his bones.

You moved carefully, guiding the chair down the hallway, keeping your hand on the bar, and checking on him every few seconds. He didn’t talk, he just stared straight ahead.

When you reached Riki’s room, you paused at the door. “You sure?” you asked.

Heeseung nodded quietly and so you opened the door slowly.

The lights were dimmed inside, soft beeping of monitors the only sound.

Riki was lying still, propped slightly against the incline of the bed. His skin was a mess of bruises, purple and green splotches painting across his arms and cheek. A heavy cast swallowed most of his left leg, raised and elevated on a cushion.

There were faint stitches near his collarbone, and you saw the tremble of his chest with every breath.

But his eyes were open and conscious, staring at the white ceiling.

When he saw Heeseung, something in his expression cracked. His mouth moved first, like he wasn’t sure what to say. “Heeseung…”

Heeseung tried to lean forward but flinched instantly. You stepped in and pressed lightly on his shoulder.

“Careful,” you murmured.

“I thought you were dead,” Riki said, voice hoarse and small.

Heeseung swallowed, eyes shining faintly. “So did I.”

Riki blinked rapidly. “They said you— why the fuck did you stop in front of me like that? That’s not…” He trailed off, voice thick. “That’s not how this is supposed to go.”

Heeseung stared at him for a long moment. “You were headed for the barricade.”

“You should’ve just let me crash.” Riki snapped.

Heeseung’s voice was low, steady. “No, i really shouldn’t have.”

The silence between them settled like a weight. You didn’t speak, nor did you move. You saw how Heeseung’s hands gripped the armrests, how Riki tried to blink away the water in his eyes.

“You look like shit,” Riki finally said, a faint smile twitching at his lips.

Heeseung gave a tired breath of a laugh. “Yeah. So do you.”

You looked between the two of them. “I’ll give you a few minutes… just don’t make him laugh too hard. His ribs won’t survive it.”

🏁.

Two more weeks passed, and the days started blending again, though in a different rhythm now.

Rehab was slower, less frantic than the ER, but harder in other ways.

You watched Heeseung try to curl his fingers around a towel for ten full minutes one morning, sweat beading along his brow while the physical therapist kept encouraging him softly, and he just clenched his jaw and tried again and again, even when the pain clawed up from his shoulder into his teeth.

The nerves in his right arm were slow to wake. Some hadn’t at all.

But he worked through it, every day. There were setbacks and ghost pains and frustration.

A dozen nights when he asked you to help him sleep with medications because the sensation of nothing in his arm felt worse than agony.

You tried your best to support him, to give him the strength he was missing.

He could get a game of cards with you each time he managed to complete an exercise, and though he struggled to hold the cards in hands, he looked forward to it.

He always did, but one day you didn’t arrive at the time you usually did.

You always checked in after the rehab sessions. Always adjusted the pillows, changed his IV port, sometimes brought him sickeningly sweet tea even though it wasn’t officially allowed.

That afternoon, he returned from physical therapy looking exhausted and stiff, arm strapped carefully in the sling again.

You would be waiting for him, and even if he felt tired, he was excited to tell you about his progress.

But when he got in there were no cards and no you.

He was half-dozing when the door finally opened, with but the footsteps weren’t yours. The nurse on duty came in to check his meds, and as she adjusted his meds she told him you were coming but were just running late.

She went away, and when the door opened again some time later, it was you.

You came in fast, too fast and your steps uneven. Your scrubs were wrinkled, your hair pulled back hastily.

You didn’t even glance at him, just went straight to the counter and dropped your bag like your hands didn’t know what to do with anything.

“Hey,” he said, quietly.

“Hey.” You replied hurriedly.

He tried to push himself up further in bed, and that simple movement sent a spasm through his ribs. He hissed but kept watching you.

Your hands were shaking as you reached for the gloves. You put them on hastily and put some morphine drops in his IV line.

Or tried to, because the needle kept missing. You tried again and again.

“Hey.” He murmured, brows furrowing. “Are you okay?”

“Of course,” you gulped, voice shaky, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

But he didn’t buy your lie, so he said more firmly, “Y/N.”

You stopped moving and dropped your hands on the medicine counter. “I lost him.”

The words came out too sharp and too sudden. You hadn’t meant to say them like that. You hadn’t even known what you meant to say until they tore out of your mouth.

He blinked slowly. trying to piece the words together. “The kid?”

You turned slowly toward him, your eyes wide and glassy, and you laughed, a short and broken sound. It caught in your throat. You clutched the edge of the t counter like it could hold you up.

“I— I did everything. Everything I was supposed to. He was smiling yesterday… and… and he even asked me to draw dinosaurs on his oxygen mask. I told him I would after he ate his dinner.”

He didn’t speak, he let you rant, because he knew you needed not to be strong for once. You needed a shoulder to cry on.

You stepped forward, then dropped to your knees before you even realized it. The medical equipment fell from your hands.

“He started coughing and he didn’t stop,” you whispered, voice already breaking. “His lung… it filled with blood. He couldn’t breathe and we couldn’t intubate fast enough. He choked in front of us. In front of me.”

Your hands pressed to your face. “I tried… I tried so fucking hard—”

Your sobs ripped out of you, loud and uncontained, ugly sobs that rocked your body. Heeseung reached out before his body could protest. “Come here.”

“No,” you gasped. “I can’t— I’m not supposed to—”

“Come here.” He repeated firmly.

You crawled toward the bed on your knees, hands shaking too much to reach for anything.

He managed to lower his good arm toward you, fingers trembling as they brushed against your shoulder.

You pressed your face to the side of the bed, arms folded awkwardly under you, and sobbed into the blanket.

He winced, but he kept his hand there on your back. His thumb moved in slow, unsteady circles, his voice hoarse as he whispered, “You did everything you could.”

“I didn’t save him.” You snapped.

“Sometimes… sometimes you can’t.” He tried to reason. “I promised I’d come see him tomorrow.” You whispered brokenly.

Heeseung’s breath hitched, and he closed his eyes like he could carry the weight of that grief for you.

“I keep seeing his face,” you whispered. “He looked so scared.”

“I know that feeling,” he murmured. “I know, I see the fire every night.”

Your fingers curled into the blanket. He moved his hand and brushed your hair back behind your ear. The gentlest touch he could manage.

“You made him forget the horrors he went through,” he said softly. “You were there. That matters more than anything.”

You couldn’t stop crying, couldn’t even pretend to be the composed nurse anymore.

You weren’t her right now. You were just you, kneeling on the floor beside a patient who had become more than just a chart.

You stayed there, head buried into the side of the bed, tears soaking through the sheet, while Heeseung lay still, chest tight, body too raw to offer more than the steady, quiet presence you’d once given him.

Eventually, your sobs softened, worn out. Like the grief had burned through you fast and left only ash behind.

He spoke again, voice slow. “You can sit up here, if you want.”

You shook your head. “I don’t want you to move.” Even in your pain, uou cared more for him.

“I won’t.” He shifted his hand slightly, inviting. “Just stay beside me..”

So you did, because you weren’t really in the right state of mind to list all the reasons why you shouldn’t.

You climbed onto the edge of the bed slowly, not to disturb the tubes or bandages, and leaned gently against the side of his body. His good arm curled around your back.

Just for a moment you let yourself be held.

🏁.

It was quiet between you for a long while. His hand was warm where it rested on your back, too warm for someone who’d spent the last few weeks surrounded by machines and medications and cold gauze.

You were still curled into the side of the bed, your cheek resting just beside the edge of his chest, body limp from the sobbing.

“Hey.” He finally spoke.

You shifted, barely lifting your head. “Mh?.”

He angled his neck enough to glance down at you. “Wheel me downstairs.”

You blinked slowly. “Downstairs where?”

“The cafeteria.”

You pulled back just enough to look at him properly. His face was worn, but his expression was serious.

You stared hard. “You’re not allowed down there yet.”

He shrugged with one shoulder. “Neither was I allowed to have Jake’s candy bars, but I’ve had three Twix and two mini bags of Doritos this week, and I haven’t died.”

Your brows lifted. “You’ve been cheating on your meal plan?” He gave a faint smirk. “Religiously.”

“You sighed, pressing your fingers to your eyes. The last thing you wanted to do right now was escort a stubborn F1 driver out of his room for snacks like he hadn’t nearly burned alive three weeks ago.

But the truth was, your chest still hurt. The grief still sat in your bones, but it was quieter now, and something in his voice had shifted.

“Fine,” you muttered, standing. “But you’re wearing your sling, and your hospital bracelet stays visible. If anyone asks, you’re on a medically supervised movement.”

“Lord,” he murmured. “You make rule-breaking sound so sexy.”

You rolled your eyes, but the ache in your chest had already started to soften.

You helped him into the chair again, slower this time, letting him lean into you more than usual.

His body was getting stronger, but not by much, and even the act of standing made him wince. You adjusted his IV pole and tucked the light blue blanket across his lap before wheeling him carefully out into the corridor.

The hallway was mostly quiet as night shift had already begun. The elevators pinged with soft dings while you descended.

“Did you bring me down here to flirt with the volunteers again?” you asked as the doors opened on the ground floor.

“No,” he said. “They don’t make eye contact anymore. I think you scared them off.”

You snorted. “Good.”

The café was dimly lit, the kind that looked like it was trying very hard to pretend it wasn’t inside a hospital.

You wheeled him to a table tucked in the corner, far from the noise of people or the murmur of the vending machines.

You walked up to the bar and ordered what he’d asked for, a hot chocolate with no whipped cream, and a bottle of water. The cashier rang it up, and just as you reached for your hospital-issued card, a hand beat you to it.

Heeseung had wheeled towards you, alone, and handed over a credit card without a word.

You looked at him sharply. “What the fuck are you—”

“I wanted to.” Ahe said quickly, “And I used the good arm.” He waved it for good measure.

You narrowed your eyes. “I’m on shift. I can’t let patients pay for—”

“I’m a grown man in a wheelchair, who needs your help standing while peeing, I think you deserve this.”

You stared at him for a second longer, but he didn’t waver. So you let it go, you took the tray with the drinks, careful not to spill the hot chocolate, and returned to the table.

When you set it down in front of him, he reached out for the bottle of water. He pushed the hot chocolate toward you.

You blinked, then frowned in confusion. “This is yours.”

“I ordered it for you.” He explained as if it was the most obvious thing.

Your hands hovered for a second. “You asked for it.”

“And then I gave it away.” He met your eyes, gaze soft but unwavering. “You’ve had a shit day, well, week. I figured chocolate was a safer bet than tequila.”

You slowly sat down, wrapping your hands around the warm cup. It steamed against your skin, thick and sweet-smelling.

“You still shouldn’t be paying for me,” you muttered.

“I crashed a million-dollar car. You think I’m worried about six bucks?”

You shook your head, trying to hide the way your lip tugged up just slightly.

He leaned back a little in the chair, the bottle of water resting between his thighs. “You’re allowed to sit here,” he said, voice quiet. “Not just as my nurse but just as you.”

You stared down at the cup. “I don’t think I know how to be just me anymore.”

“You do,” he said softly. “You just haven’t had time to remember.”

You took a slow sip and the warmth bled into your chest. “I think I hate hospitals,” you whispered.

He tilted his head, watching you carefully. “So do I.”

You wheeled him back before the nurse on dinner rounds made it to his floor.

Heeseung didn’t say much on the way up, he just kept his eyes ahead, arm still nestled in the sling, the blanket pooling loosely around his waist.

You stopped the wheelchair in front of his room, and opened the door wide enough for the chair to slip in.

He shifted a little as you rolled him in, wincing when the chair hit a bump in the threshold. “Careful,” he murmured.

“Sorry,” you replied quickly, helping him ease into a comfortable position beside his bed before turning off the wheelchair brakes.

You were efficient again, going through motions you’d done a hundred times, but your fingers still trembled slightly when they brushed his wrist, adjusting the IV.

“Thanks,” he said quietly. “For taking care of me.”

You turned toward him. “It’s literally my job

“It’s more than that,” he said. “You didn’t have to sit with me. You didn’t have to cry where I could see you.”

You swallowed, eyes briefly dropping to his blanket. “Yeah, well, I guess I’m not very professional.”

“You’re too pretty to cry,” he said simply.

You rolled your eyes, stepping toward the cabinet to grab a clean set of saline wipes, trying to cover how your heart stuttered at the way he’d said it— like a fact, not a compliment.

“Don’t start,” you warned. “I’m not starting,” he said. “I’m just saying.”

You turned back to him, arms crossed, and leaned against the cabinet. “Alright, fine. How are you feeling? Really.”

He blinked at you, then tilted his head slightly, making a face. “Sore.”

“Where?” You asked.

He shifted, jaw tightening as he angled his neck. “My neck mostly. Probably the burn. It feels like it’s pulling when I sleep.”

“That’s because you keep turning your head instead of using the pillow support,” you said, walking toward him again.

You reached gently toward his collarbone, pulling back the loose hospital shirt to peek at the gauze that covered the worst of the scarring.

“You should kiss it better,” he said then, voice suddenly low.

You stopped, frozen in place. Your hand froze an inch from his skin, and his eyes flicked to your face, watching you for a reaction, but not pushing.

His lips tugged up, a faint, boyish grin pulling the corner of his mouth.

You stared at him, chest tight, then sighed through your nose and leaned in, fast, before you could think better of it, and pressed a quick kiss to the edge of his cheekbone.

Just enough to feel the warmth of his skin under your lips, to let the tension between you shift into something that made your stomach twist.

His smile widened, the surprise obvious on his face.

“Hey,” he whispered, gaze following you as you straightened and stepped back. “That was nice.”

“Don’t let it get to your head.” You said, holding a threatening finger to his face.

He laughed, low and hoarse. “Too late.”

You grabbed your clipboard, pretending to check his chart so you wouldn’t have to look at him while your face still felt warm.

“I should go,” you muttered, already walking toward the door. “Dinner shift’s starting on the east wing.”

“Wait—”

But you were already pulling the door open, glancing back at him just long enough to catch the way he looked at you now.

You didn’t say anything else. You just stepped out, your heart pounding loud enough you were sure he could hear it, and let the door shut behind you with a soft click.

🏁.

By the third day of your ten-hour shift stretch, you could recognize the tone of the call button chime before the light even blinked above the door.

It was always Lee Heeseung’s, allways at the most inopportune moments— just when you had your gloves snapped on to help with someone else’s chart, or when you were halfway through prepping a new IV bag.

And by now, you didn’t even need to guess what he’d say.

“My pillow fell again.”

“My water’s too warm.”

“I finished the tissue box. I sneezed once and now it’s gone.”

“I think my skin feels itchy, but like, only a little. Is that bad?”

“Do you know where the remote is?”

Six times that day, and it wasn’t even five p.m.

So this time, you walked in before the chime finished echoing down the hall, your hands on your hips, the door swinging shut behind you with a firm thud.

“Okay,” you said, standing just inside the threshold, your brows raised. “I know you’re bored, and I know hospital life isn’t exactly thrilling, but unless you’ve developed a new infection or spontaneously combusted again, I really don’t want to hear another call button chime from this room today.”

Heeseung looked up from the bed, blinking at you with the most unapologetically fake innocent expression you’d ever seen.

“You don’t have to scold me like that,” he said, lifting a hand with mock pain. “It hurts my feelings.”

“It hurts my back,” you snapped, “to walk this hallway six times because you suddenly forgot where your mouth is after wiping it.”

He cracked a smile then, slow and crooked. “That one wasn’t urgent, I just missed you.”

You blinked at him, deadpan.

“I’m serious,” he added quickly. “I’m not trying to be annoying. I mean, I am. But not… only.”

You slowly stepped closer to the bed, your arms crossing over your chest. “Heeseung.”

He lifted both hands in surrender, careful not to stretch his burned arm. “Alright. alright, I’ll stop. I’ll be good.”

You narrowed your eyes. You knew he felt alone, F1 season continued, Jake had meetings with his whole department since both his drivers were out and he was afraid he’d be replaced.

You knew, but it didn’t mean he had to drive you insane too. No pun intended.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, softer this time. “I know I’m being a pain in the ass, that you’re tired, and I know it’s not fair to ask for attention when there are patients who actually need you.”

That startled you a little. His voice was sincere now, not playful.

The kind of honest that didn’t come easy to men like him, the men used to winning races and smiling through sponsors’ press conferences and interviews. But he looked small now, even as he sat upright in the bed, chest tight in the bandages you changed every morning.

“I’m just—” he exhaled, his fingers twitching over the blanket. “I’m scared to leave. That’s the truth.”

You frowned, stepping to his bedside without thinking. “Why would you be scared of leaving a hospital?”

“Because I look like this.” He motioned vaguely to his body, to the sling, the burn that peeked from beneath the hem of his collar. “Because I haven’t seen a mirror in weeks, and I know I’ve looked better. Because my hair’s gross and I’ve lost weight and I smell like antiseptic, and I’ve been stuck in this bed thinking that I’ll never feel like myself again.”

You opened your mouth, but he wasn’t done. “And because I finally got the courage to want something for myself. And that something is you.”

The words landed hard. You felt your arms drop slightly, hands now loose by your sides, the air between you suddenly tighter than before. You blinked your eyes, unsure if you were seeing or hearing his words right.

Heeseung looked up at you again, slower this time, less sure of himself than you’d ever seen him.

“I know you don’t owe me anything. You’ve been taking care of me because it’s your duty, and I’ve probably pushed boundaries I shouldn’t. But…” He swallowed, breath shallow. “I wanted to tell you now. Before I get discharged, because the second I’m out of here, I’m gonna be back in recovery, back in press cycles, and everyone’s going to ask about the crash and Riki and the damn brakes, and I’m not going to get to just sit with you… or make you laugh, ormake you roll your eyes like that.”

You stared at him, speechless, as if your body had finally shut down.

“I just needed you to know,” he said finally. “When I’m back on my feet and when I look like me again… I’m going to ask you out, properly. If you’ll let me.”

Your heart was pounding, because somewhere deep down, maybe you’d known. Known from the moment he reached for the hot chocolate and slid it across the table. Known from the way he watched you like you were the only anchor he had left.

You didn’t know what to say, not yet. Your mouth felt dry and your chest felt tight, but your feet stepped closer anyway, drawn like a magnet.

You didn’t kiss him this time. You didn’t touch him either. You just looked down at him, eyes skimming his face, the new pink of his healing skin, the glint of defiance still in his expression.

“You still can’t press the call button,” you said quietly.

His smile broke again, wider this time. Like sunlight on rained down pavement.

“Alright,” he whispered. “Then I guess I’ll just have to wait for you.”

🏁.

You didn’t see Heeseung for almost three weeks.

He still came to the hospital, that much you knew, rehabilitation was mandatory, even for someone as stubborn as Ferrari’s golden boy.

He was scheduled twice a week for physical therapy, and he visited Riki when he could, sometimes staying an hour or more in the kid’s room.

But your shifts never overlapped. It was strange, how easily someone could vanish into the same building you worked in, the same halls you’d memorized with your eyes closed.

You didn’t try to ask around. You didn’t dig through records or prod the therapists in the staff lounge.

You didn’t let it show on your face that every time the elevator dinged on your floor, your eyes flicked up before you could stop yourself.

He was healing at home now. Taking care of his own burns, which had scabbed and scarred over with that red-purple finish that made your heart twist the last time you saw them.

You imagined him moving stiffly through some fancy condo, with his water always cold, pillows never out of reach, tissues unused because there was no one around to pass them.

However, you saw Riki often. He was in less pain now, and more alert to his surroundings.

Still sour most days, snappy and restless from staying still for so long, but there was a spark there, something sharp behind his eyes when he talked about rehab. He wanted to walk, he wanted to drive again. Even if it was far off for the time being.

“Heeseung comes in all weird,” Riki muttered one afternoon while you adjusted the IV tubing above his bed. “Like, in baseball caps and hoodies. As if people won’t recognize him if he covers half his face and walks with that stupid gait.”

“Maybe he’s trying not to get mobbed,” you murmured, flicking the drip line with your nail. “He had fans even in the hospital.”

“He just doesn’t want people to look at him,” Riki said, a little quieter. “Not until his skin looks normal.”

You didn’t answer that. You just gave him a sip of water and changed the subject, but it stayed with you.

That night, for the first time, you opened Instagram and typed Ferrari into the search bar.

The page was easy to find. It was verified, with the bold logo, all red and gold and glory.

You scrolled past the highlight reels, the merchandise links, the footage of pit crews moving like insects in reverse. You skimmed captions about sponsors, about prep for the next season, about hopeful outlooks. And then you found his name.

Lee Heeseung, back in training. Slowly regaining strength in his right arm, working with team specialists twice a week. Determined to be ready for next season’s opener.

There was a photo. Blurry, and taken from behind. Heeseung bent forward, sweat soaking through a dark training tee, fingers curled over a steering simulator.

His profile was partly visible, bandage still over the side of his neck, his jaw clenched, dark hair longer than it had been in the hospital.

He looked thin and tired. But he looked alive.

You stared at the photo for longer than you should have. Then, against your better judgment, you hit the follow button.

You didn’t expect it to change anything. You didn’t expect him to see it, even, his feed was full of likes and mentions from fans all over the world, probably flooded every minute.

But something about it made you feel closer. Like you’d walked into a corner of his life no one had given you permission to touch.

Like you were choosing to see him now, not as your patient, not as a body in bandages, but as someone aching to be more than that.

You still didn’t see him in ‘real life’, but you started noticing the gap he left in your day.

The way your shift felt a little quieter without his voice drifting out of his VIP room.

How your eyes scanned the hallway out of habit, expecting his lanky frame to come sauntering around the corner with a sarcastic comment ready. How the call button in his old room remained untouched, almost dusty with disuse.

You didn’t let yourself think about it too much. You had other patients. You had other wounds to clean, other charts to fill.

You had boys younger than Riki who didn’t know what comfort felt like, who cried into your sleeves when no one else was looking.

But late at night, when you walked home in silence, something in you still flickered with that unfinished sentence. With that look in his eyes the last time you left his room.

🏁.

Saturdays weren’t yours to work, but the fire from three nights ago had overflowed the ER.

Nurses had been calling out, supplies were low, and patients kept pouring in with second-degree burns and smoke in their lungs, soot in their hair and soot in their blood.

You hadn’t had lunch. You barely remembered what you’d eaten for breakfast.

Your scrubs were wrinkled, your badge strap sticky with someone’s dried medication, your shoes creaked wet from a mop bucket you stepped in by accident. All you wanted was to go home, shower, and sleep for fourteen uninterrupted hours.

So when you stepped out the side exit, your usual escape route to avoid the busier front doors, and found a sleek, glimmering black car parked right in the middle of the access road, you groaned out loud.

“The hell…” you muttered under your breath, narrowing your eyes.

You looked around first, no security in sight and no staff nearby.

The car was expensive, way too shiny to belong to a low waged doctor, but the way it was angled made your jaw clench.

Right in the path of emergency lanes. If an ambulance pulled in, it would have to slow down, stop before it hit it and possibly lose a life.

You stepped toward the driver’s side window without hesitation, rapping your knuckles against the glass firmly.

You didn’t expect it to roll down that fast. And you definitely didn’t expect him.

Heeseung turned toward you slowly, lips twitching up into the smallest smile, his eyes scanning you like you were a familiar song playing again for the first time in weeks.

He had a hat on, but he pulled it off the second he saw your face. His skin had lost the swollen, raw shine, there were still scars on his jawline and neck, but they were faded now, pinked and healing.

“Hi,” he said quietly.

You just blinked, hands mid-air, paused knock on the window. “What— what are you doing here?” you asked.

“I was waiting for you,” he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Your shift ended half an hour ago.”

“I stayed behind because the trauma and burning bay was still full.” You explained, brows furrowed.

“Yeah, I heard about the fire.” His brows dipped a little. “I figured you wouldn’t leave on time.”

You glanced at the car again, then back at him “You’re parked in the middle of the road.”

He shrugged, leaning his elbow against the wheel, lazy and composed and so infuriatingly calm. “You always said I was reckless.”

“That’s not— Heeseung, you can’t park here. What if an ambulance came in?” You nagged.

“Then I would’ve moved.” His smile widened slightly. “I saw you coming out. You were holding your bag like it was about to break.”

You looked down at your satchel, at the way it was sagging from your shoulder, the straps barely stitched. You hadn’t realized he was watching.

“You look exhausted,” he said. “I didn’t mean to scare you or get in the way. I just… I wanted to talk to you.”

You hesitated, swallowing hard. “You could’ve texted.”

“I don’t have your number.” You paused again, jaw tightening. The handsome fucker was right.

He read the hesitation in your expression because his voice softened when he added, “It’s not anything heavy. I just wanted to see you…. talk. If that’s okay.”

“I should go home,” you said, but your voice didn’t sound as sure as it should have.

“I know,” he replied, tone level. “I’m not trying to trap you. I just… thought maybe you’d want to come for a short drive.”

You opened your mouth to protest again, but he must’ve seen it in your face, that flicker, that tiny weakening you always had with him, because he leaned across the passenger seat and pushed the door open.

The smell of his cologne wafted out faintly, clean and unfamiliar. Not the antiseptic you used to associate with him, but something warmer.

“Fifteen minutes,” he said. “And I’ll drive slow.”

You stood there another heartbeat before sighing heavily and slipping in, dropping your bag between your feet. “You can’t park like that again.” you grumbled, pulling your seatbelt on.

“I won’t,” he said, already shifting the gear. “Unless it gets me your attention.”

The car was too smooth, barely a hum beneath your thighs as he pulled onto the road.

He didn’t take the highway. Instead, he drifted toward the north side of the city, where the buildings thinned and the roads turned narrow and winding.

You didn’t say anything for a while, and the radio was off, creating a not so awkward silence.

The windows cracked just enough for the wind to kiss your temples. Heeseung kept one hand on the wheel, the other resting near the gear shift. His fingers tapped to a rhythm only he heard.

You finally asked, “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.” he smirked.

The hill was quiet. Just far enough from town that the lights behind you blurred into a string of distant sparks, like stars upside down.

He pulled up to the edge, beside a lookout you vaguely recognized from photos, some popular spot kids used to park and drink or kiss in late at night.

But now it was just the two of you, and the sun was melting behind the skyline, leaving streaks of orange and dusty violet stretching across the horizon.

He killed the engine as you sat still, unsure. He turned to you. “You’ve been following the Ferrari page.”

You flushed before you could stop it, your eyes darting to the glovebox. “You noticed?”

“You think I wouldn’t?” he asked, tilting his head. “Your username has your badge number and Jake asked me if it was you when he saw the notification. He’s the one who runs the profile.”

You cringed. “I misclicked.”

“I like it that you follow it.” He took a breath, shifting to face you slightly. “I wasn’t lying that day. I know I was half gross with hair oily and calling for tissues every five minutes. But I meant what I said.”

You chewed your bottom lip, hands clasped together on your lap.

“I’ve thought about you every damn day,” he said, voice low. “Every burn I cleaned, every stretch I did to move my arm again… it was all with your voice in my head, lecturing me, cussing under your breath, or humming while you changed my dressings.

He chucked softly, “I’m not trying to romanticize what you did— it was your job, I know that. But you were the only part of that room that didn’t feel like pain.”

Your throat tightened. The silence around you pressed against your chest.

“So,” he said, after a moment. “Now that I’m here, and I don’t look like a half-melted wax figure, I’m going to ask again.”

He leaned in a little, not enough to touch you. Just enough to make the air shiver between your knees.

“Would you go out with me?”

You looked at him, really looked at the scars that would never fully fade, at the honesty stretched across his face. At the way his fingers curled and uncurled on his thigh, nervous.

Not Heeseung-the-racer. Not Heeseung-the-patient. Just the man who held you when you broke down and offered you hot chocolate to cheer you up.

“…You’re still kind of a pain in the ass,” you whispered.

He grinned, soft and warm and so stupidly pretty. “I’m hoping you like that about me.”

You rolled your eyes and looked away. But your voice cracked into something almost smiling as you said, “Okay.”

His inhale was slow, asif he didn’t believe you yet.

“Yeah?” he asked, like he needed to hear it again.

You turned back to him and nodded. “Yeah.”

🏁.

You hadn’t meant for it to happen so naturallyx, but the nights at his place started slipping into your week like a warm spring breeze.

He picked you up after long shifts when you didn’t feel like taking the bus, and you’d slip into his fancy car still in your scrubs, smelling faintly of antiseptic and latex gloves, too tired to talk.

And he never asked you to. He just opened the passenger door, let you rest your head against the window, and drove home in silence, music turned low and hand reaching across the console to hold yours.

His mansion, because there was no way around calling it that, wasn’t what you expected.

You thought it’d be filled with trophies and screaming red logos, but it was just neat and quiet.

His bedroom was painted in soft shades of gray and navy, his kitchen smelled like coffee beans and a hint of vanilla, and the couch was so wide you’d often curl up in the corner with a blanket and not move for hours.

You didn’t have the energy for fancy dates or being out in public. You certainly didn’t want to be photographed, you didn’t ant some journalist writing a two-paragraph caption about how Heeseung’s latest girl was just some tired nurse with eyebags and oversized jackets.

And Heeseung never made you feel small for it. Whatever he chose for his life you didn’t have to force yourself to be a part of.

Most nights were spent curled on the sofa, a Netflix movie you barely registered playing in the background.

You would start the evening upright, knees tucked in, a warm drink in your hands, and end it slouched sideways, your cheek against his shoulder, breath even and shallow as sleep claimed you halfway through the plot.

He’d carry you, sometimes. Tuck you in and kiss your forehead lightly. Other nights, you made it to bed on your own, and he would join you an hour later, warm and silent, pressing himself carefully to your back, still stiff because of his healing skin.

He had noticed your pills early on. The first time, you thought you’d been slick about it, hiding them behind your hand as you opened the bottle near the sink.

But he leaned over and asked, “You okay?”

You nodded, embarrassed, trying to swallow them quickly. “Just for digestion, y’know? My stomach gets weird after long shifts. I don’t always… well, can’t always eat right after I see something.”

His expression softened like you’d pressed a hand over his chest. He didn’t say anything right away, he just took the glass from your hand, poured you another, and passed it back silently.

“You don’t have to explain it,” he said quietly. “I get it.”

You weren’t sure he could get it. He didn’t have to hold broken children or stitch the soft skin of dying women, and he didn’t have to stand still while a monitor flatlined.

But he had burned for someone else. He’d jumped in front of a car going too fast to stop, taken the brunt of it, let himself be crushed and concussed to save a boy who wasn’t ready to die.

So maybe he did understand.

When you came over one Saturday morning, he was more animated than usual.

He was wearing a dark sweater and cargo pants, with hair half-damp from a shower, and his bandage finally gone from his wrist, his body almost healed.

He still couldn’t grip with his right hand properly. He said the nerves were healing slowly, but he’d been trying.

“C’mere,” he grinned, reaching for your bag to drop it by the entrance. “I want to show you something.”

You blinked at him, one eyebrow rising. “Show me what?”

“Just come.” He tugged at your hand and pulled you toward the garage.

You hadn’t really stepped inside the main garage before. The house had two: one for his daily cars, and the other for, well, whatever this was. The second he flipped the lights on, you saw it.

His car. That car.

The one that had been twisted into fire and pain months ago. The one you’d seen on the news, reduced to smoldering steel.

Now it sat before you, with a brand new frame, the same number, and the same paint job, the shine of it almost surreal under the ceiling lights.

“You got it back,” you murmured.

“I got her back, my Scarlet.” he said, voice soft with affection. “It’s not exactly the same frame, and we’ve upgraded a few things. But… yeah. She’s mine again.”

You walked slowly around it, trailing your fingers just barely along the side. “And you’ll drive again.”

“As soon as they let me.”

“And your hand?” He held it up, flexing it in the air. “Still annoying as hell. But I’ve been cooperating with the exercises.”

You smiled, turning to him. “That’s a first.”

He grinned, full of boyish pride. Then he nodded toward the other side of the garage. “There’s someone else I want you to meet officially.”

You followed him without question.

Jake was waiting near the workbench, hands shoved in his pockets, his hair tied back with a cap. He looked better than the last time you’d seen him in a panic outside the hospital room, pacing the hall and begging for updates.

“Jake,” Heeseung said, his voice low but proud, “this is Y/N.”

Jake smiled and extended his hand. “You’re the nurse who yelled at the three others for pampering him with pudding.”

You laughed as you shook it. “They were fangirling and he was still high on morphine. Someone had to keep his ego in check.”

Heeseung groaned behind you. “You’re never going to let that go.”

“Not a chance.”

Jake grinned even wider. “I like her.”

“She’s not just my nurse anymore,” Heeseung said quietly, and when you glanced back at him, he was looking straight at you. “She’s my girl now.”

The words shouldn’t have knocked the air out of your chest the way they did. You weren’t sixteen anymore, you’d had men call you worse and sweeter things in the heat of a moment, but this— this was soft and real.

You didn’t say anything right away. Just smiled, nodded a thank you to Jake, and let Heeseung lead you upstairs again, through the back hallway.

When the door to the garage closed behind you and the silence settled again, you reached for him before he could say anything else.

you pressed your hands to his cheeks gently, careful of the last faint scar that still lingered along the side of his jaw, and kissed him.

He stilled at first, stunned. Then he leaned in, warm and steady, one hand sliding to your hip, the other brushing the back of your neck.

It was the kind of kiss that made time pause. With no rush, no fire behind your teeth. Just slow, deep breaths and the rhythm of his lips against yours, like he’d been waiting too long to ask again.

When you pulled away, you stayed close, your forehead resting against his.

“You are a wonderful person, Lee Heeseung.” You breathed out.

“You make me better.” He murmured.

You smiled, kissed the tip of his nose, and said, “No, that’s all you.”