sypnosis :: IN WHICH, you receive a love note from one of the most popular boys in the school, Eom Seonghyeon. You begin an exchange diary with him, only to discover that the letter was meant for your best friend.
notes :: first time writing a fic, highschool! au, slow burn?, slight angst, written chap, inspired by 'our secret diary' (2023), very slow updates bc of school
01 02 03
You and Hyein met back in middle school.
During that time, Hyein was considered to be one of the top students. She won journalism contests, dominated quiz bees, and achieved high grades in that year. To everyone else, she was that one student to look up to
Even now, she's seen as a perfect student—responsible, diligent, and dependable. She had even been elected as the secretary of the student council, adding it to her never-ending list of accomplishments.
But no one saw what happened that afternoon.
Near the staircase, Hyein was there sitting on one of the steps. Her head hung down low, muffling the quiet sniffles escaping from her lips.
She was crying.
You had only been passing by on your way to your classroom on the second floor. You hadn't meant to intrude.
But seeing Hyein—the school's model student—in such a vulnerable state. You couldn't just walk away and forget you ever saw her sitting there.
Luckily, you were carrying a bottle of apple juice. You had planned on drinking it yourself, but giving it to someone who clearly needed it more didn't seem like a loss.
Slowly approaching her, you say "Um... here.”
You held the bottle out toward her with both hands. "You look like you could use this.”
Startled, Hyein slowly looked up.
Her eyes were red and glossy, traces of tears still clinging to her cheeks. For a second, surprise flashed across her face—as if she hadn't expected anyone to come this way. Realizing she had been seen, she quickly wiped at her eyes, desperately trying to erase any evidence that she'd been crying. “Oh um, I don't need it...”
"Please," you said, gently pushing the bottle a little closer. "I insist.”
Silence settled between the two of you.
After a moment, Hyein carefully accepted the bottle.
"...What's your name?”
“Uhm, it's Yn, Yn Ln…”
"Thank you, Yn." Despite the redness around her eyes, she still managed to give a small, genuine smile. "You didn't have to do this.”
"N-No!" You waved your hands in embarrassment. "I mean... I wanted to.”
She stood up, brushing off her skirt before wiping away the last of her tears. "Sorry for making you see me like that, Yn.”
Walking past you, she heads to the direction you'd just come from. And after taking a few steps, she suddenly stopped.
Turning back with a small smile, she gave you a little wave. "See you."
"Y-Yeah..." You returned the wave, feeling your face warm. "See you too.”
–––
That small encounter should've ended there.
At least, that's what you thought.
But ever since that day, whenever you happen to see each other, she would greet you. It began with simple waves in the hallway, then brief chats before class, and eventually having lunch together whenever your schedule happened to line up with hers.
Years passed and before either of you could realize it, you had become each other's closest friend. Then Ian and Woojin appeared, which then formed the friend group you adore so much.
Now, you're walking beside her, heading to where you would wait for the bus. The letter, still engraved in your mind. You don't know what to think. You always don't.
"Hey Hyein.. Can I ask you something?”
“Sure, what is it?”
You turned towards her, and hesitated for a moment. “So, hypothetically.. if Seonghyeon confessed to you, how would you feel?”
“Huh, me? But didn't he give you a lett–”
“I-it’s just a hypothetical..!” interrupting her, your cheeks flushing.
“Uh huh..” Hyein narrowed her eyes suspiciously before letting out a small laugh, “Well.. hypothetically, I would reject him.”
“Really?” You blinked, surprised by her answer. “Why?”
“I mean, sure, he's good-looking,” Hyein admitted with a shrug. “But, the way he treats girls who confess to him is kind of off-putting.. He always seems so cold about it.”
“Ah.. I see.”
Both of you continued to walk in silence. The silence between the two of you wasn't awkward—it was normal for you. Yet even after returning home and closing the door to your room, your mind refused to settle down.
Hyein is your best friend, you couldn't just hate her because the letter that was placed under the desk, his desk, was meant for her.
No, you weren't that kind of person.
But it hurts. It hurts knowing you let yourself believe that there is actually something going on. Now, all you can think about is how embarrassing it was to be in that situation.
Should you continue responding to his letters? or should you just stop?
I don't know. It's always I don't know.
–––
Today's the day. You walk through the hallways towards the lockers. Nervous, that's what you felt.
You finally reached the row of lockers, took a quiet breath, and tried to steady your trembling hands. His locker was only a few steps away.
And just as you were about to walk over–
You suddenly froze.
There he was.
Seonghyeon stood a short distance away, pacing in front of the lockers. His brows were furrowed as he glanced around the area, as if he was searching for something or maybe someone?
Your heart nearly stopped.
Out of all the times he could be here, why did he have to be here now?
Then, he turned around. His eyes immediately landed on you standing there, hands gripping your bag, they're still trembling from being nervous. Your breath caught on your throat. He saw you.
Processing what's happening, the panic immediately overwhelmed you, you quickly try to walk back, desperate to get away. Why is he here? Why now?
When suddenly– A warm hand grabbed a hold of your wrist, making your body come to an abrupt stop.
It was Seonghyeon's hand. "Wait..!"
You turn around, and was met with his face. You responded meekly "...Yes?"
"You- You're Hyein's friend, right?"
"..I am." You gave a small nod.
"Well uhm..." He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck as if he wasn't sure how to ask. "Have you... heard anything from her lately?"
The uncertainty in his voice caught you off guard. You had never imagined Seonghyeon, the boy you've been crushing on since first year, who always seemed so composed, looking this uneasy.
Oh. So he likes her that much, huh.
After a moment of silence, you offered him a small but reassuring smile. Despite the gnawing feeling in your gut, you didn't want him to be upset, that's what you always are.
"...I'm pretty sure she'll write back."
His eyes lifted to meet yours. For a split second, the worry on his face seemed to ease. The curves of his lips seemed to lift up as he heard those words come out of your mouth.
It was small but it still reached his eyes, softening the anxious look he had held just a moment ago. It was the kind of smile that appeared only when someone was genuinely comforted.
Your breath hitched. He looks so good, just smiling like that.
"...You think so?" he asked, a flicker of hope crossing his face.
"..Yeah." Lies, that's what you told him. You already know that Hyein basically has no interest to be with him.
But seeing him smile like that, you can't help but feel guilty. Perhaps you'll find a way, a way to keep that smile on his face. Even if the person who could keep it out was never going to be you.
You had promised yourself you wouldn't write another letter. Not after that day. Not after learning that every word he had been written on paper was not for you, it was for your best friend.
Before you realize it, by the time you get to your room, you had already written words onto the notebook, the notebook he had meant to give to Hyein.
martin treats you gently in ways that don't draw attention to themselves. he'd quietly move you to the inside of the sidewalk, switch drinks with you if yours didn't taste the way you expected, or pull your sleeves over your hands whenever they slipped up your wrists. by the time you notice, he's already doing something else.
whenever you stop to admire something, he never rushes you. he'd simply wait beside you, hands tucked into his pockets, listening as though your excitement is the most important part of his day.
JAMES
james believes princess treatment means making you laugh before anything else. no matter how stressful the day had been, he'd somehow find a way to pull a smile out of you, insisting that seeing you laugh was worth embarrassing himself for.
he loves taking candid photos of you not the posed ones ⎯ the moments where you're laughing halfway through a sentence or looking at something with that sparkle in your eyes.
JUHOON
juhoon rarely asks if you need help because he's already notices before you'd do. he'd quietly untangle your necklace, refill your water while you're distracted, or remember exactly where you left off whenever you forgot the story you were telling.
he has this habit of handing the nicer looking piece without thinking. the crispier fry, the prettier pastry, the slice with more toppings. only when someone points it out does he realize he's been doing it all along.
SEONGHYEON
seonghyeon has never been shy about loving you. he'd naturally reach for your hand whenever the two of you walked together, pull you into his side whenever you stood close enough, or absentmindedly play with your fingers while the two of you talked. to him affection has never been something worth holding back ⎯ it simply comes out as naturally as breathing.
he'd always find some excuses to have you close. whether it's resting his chin on your shoulder while you scroll through you phone or quietly wrapping an arm around you waist just because he can, he'd smile as if being near you is his favorite place to be.
KEONHO
keonho somehow has the ability to make you forget whatever had been bothering you. he'd drag you into the most random conversations, convince you to stop by a convenience store at midnight or challenge you to weird games until you were laughing so hard you'd forgotten why you were upset in the first place.
he'd act like the biggest kid whenever the two of you were together, yet somehow become surprisingly reliable the moment it mattered. before you even realized you needed help, he'd already be standing beside you with a quiet, "i've got it."
IN WHICH : martin and yn were complete opposites from the start, different personalities, different friend groups, and completely different aesthetics. but you know what they say, opposites do attract.
previous masterlist next
your phone buzzes somewhere between the music and the voices filling jay’s house.
its martin.
where are you?
you squint at the screen, thumbs hovering over the words you want to say but cant seem to let go.
finally you send a message back drinking at jays lol
the typing bubbles appears almost immediately.
jays? that guy’s drinks are like straight jet fuel
you stare at the message for a second before giggling to yourself.
i know, they’re amazing drinks right?
three dots.
disappear.
and come back.
what’s jay’s address?
you don’t answer, instead you shove your phone back into your pocket and walk toward the kitchen, grabbing another one of the shots jay had poured previously, shooting it down your throat feeling the famillar burning sensation.
martin was already half way out the door after you stopped texting him back
he immediately opened his messages with juhoon before typing
whats jay’s address
he walks to his car checking his phone every 5 seconds waiting for juhoon to text back before his phone finally buzzes.
why..?
need to go pick up yin
juhoon didn’t ask questions, he knew what was happening, he had saw the posts on twitter.
ten minutes later martin arrived at jays apartment, he hesitates before finally knocking on the door
jay answered the door with a confused look.
“martin?”
“i’m here for yin.”
Jay glanced over his shoulder toward the kitchen counter where you were laughing at absolutely nothing, drink still in your hand, practically already passed out.
“…yeah that’s probably for the best.”
martin didnt wait to be invited in, he just walked in going straight for you.
“you ready to go fluttershy?”
you looked up, eyes widening before a smile spread across your face.
“you came.”
he doesnt answer but just takes the drink out of your hand, setting it back on the counter.
“you’ve had enough.”
“i was having fun.”
“i know, c’mon im gonna take you home”
you didn’t argue, you just let him guide you outside, your steps unstable as he opened the passenger door.
“so gentlemanly,” you mumbled.
martin rolled his eyes, although the corner of his mouth let through a small smile.
“get in.”
the drive was quiet.
the radio hummed softly while you rested your head against the cold window.
every now and then you looked over at him and sighed
he pretended not to notice, but he did.
when the car stopped outside your complex, martin came around to help you out.
the night air was cool enough to clear your head a little.
you leaned against the car while he made sure you could stand on your own.
he looked at you for a moment before finally asking the question thats been on his mind the whole drive.
“…why’d you drink so much?”
you shrugged.
“i needed the confidence.”
he looked at you, really looked at you.
“…confidence for what?”
“to tell you you’re taking too long.”
he blinked.
“…too long?”
you looked up at him, meeting his eyes despite the alcohol making everything spin.
“to ask me out.”
silence.
martin just stared, maybe he was processing it, or maybe he was embarrassed.
“I think I’ve made it pretty clear that i like you.”
he still didn’t answer.
“and…” you continued quietly, “…and i think you’ve made it pretty clear you like me too.”
his mouth opened slightly before closing again.
for once, martin who always seemed to know exactly what to say over text had absolutely no words.
you let out a small laugh.
“see? you’re taking too long.”
that finally earned the tiniest smile from him.
“…you just confessed to me drunk?”
“yes.” you say standing up straight, almost like you were proud.
“you couldn’t have waited until tomorrow?”
“i would’ve chickened out.”
martin rubbed the back of his neck, looking down at the sidewalk before meeting your eyes again.
“for what it’s worth…”
“i was trying to figure out the right time.”
another beat of silence.
“so…” he said, almost like he was more scared than you
“…would you let me make up for taking too long?”
you tilted your head.
“how?”
he looked away for a second.
“…by asking you out.”
and then suddenly, everything stops spinning, your mind finally clear and not all jumbled together.
“i’d like that.”
a/n: i dont know if i like the writing for this chapter.. also so sorry if some of this isn't accurate, i dont drink lol ( – ⌓ – )
KISS ME THRU THE PHONE ❛ 𝗋𝗈𝗌𝖾𝗌 𝖻𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝗓𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗁𝗈𝗇𝖾 𓈒 ❜
( ◠‿◠ ) 𓈒 on the phone with martin
𝒊────𝟐𝟎𝟖𝟐 🗡️ 𝑏𝑓 ! 𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑖𝑛 잡지 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟
the call started with him smiling before you had even said anything. you could tell he’d been waiting for you to pick up because the second your face appeared on the screen, his expression changed completely. his hair was slightly disheveled, his hoodie pulled up around his neck, and he looked way too pleased with himself.
“finally,” martin said, leaning closer to the camera. “i was starting to think you forgot about me.”
you rolled your eyes, laughing as you adjusted your phone. “it was literally five minutes.”
“five minutes is a long time when i’m waiting for my girlfriend.”
the way he said it made you smile despite yourself. he kept glancing at the screen as if he still couldn’t believe you were there, even though you had video called almost every night since the distance started.
“you look tired,” he said after a moment, his expression softening. “did you sleep enough?”
you shrugged. “maybe.”
“maybe?” he raised an eyebrow. “that’s not an answer.”
you laughed. “are you my boyfriend or my mom?”
“your boyfriend,” he replied. “a boyfriend who cares about you and is unfortunately stuck on the other side of the world.”
you could hear the small hint of frustration in his voice, the kind he tried to hide. long distance wasn’t easy. there were days when he wished he could just show up at your door, steal you away for a few hours, and not have to rely on a screen. tonight was one of those days.
“i miss you,” he admitted, resting his chin against his hand. “i miss doing normal things with you.”
“normal things?”
“yeah,” he said. “getting food together. Walking around the city. annoying you in person instead of through a phone.”
you smiled. “oh, you annoy me plenty through the phone.”
that earns you a huff. “good. at least i’m consistent”
you both laughed, and for a while, the conversation moved naturally from random stories about your days to little details you would usually forget to mention. he told you about something funny that happened earlier, music that he was working on then immediately changed the subject because he wanted to hear about yours instead.
at some point, you had noticed he had been staring at the screen for a little too long.
“what?” you asked.
“nothing.”
“martin.”
he smiled, looking away for a second before looking back. “i’m just looking at you.”
“hmm, that’s weird.”
“no it isn’t,” he grinned. “am i not allowed to look at my girlfriend?”
“you’re acting like you haven’t seen me before.”
“i haven’t seen you in person in forever,” he corrected. “the screen doesn’t count.”
there was something about the way he said it that made your teasing disappear. he wasn’t trying to make you feel guilty; he was just being honest. he missed being close to you. he missed the little moments that couldn’t happen through a call.
as the call got later, neither of you seemed ready to end it. you both knew you had to sleep eventually, but hanging up meant going back to missing each other.
“stay five more minutes,” he said.
“martin, you said that twenty minutes ago. i… am tired.”
the two of you stayed there a little longer, talking about nothing and everything at the same time. even with miles between you, it still felt familiar.
you kept yawning, and of course, martin noticed that you were, actually, tired, and not trying to get off call.
“goodnight,” you finally said.
martin smiled. “goodnight. call me tomorrow?”
“obviously.”
“okay. i just needed to hear you say it.”
you laughed, and before ending the call, he leaned closer to the camera.
synopsis. .Y/N has spent years believing her childhood crush was the one. So when he suddenly comes back into her life, she’s determined to finally get her happy ending. So to get his attention, she team up with the one person she can’t stand, Eom seonghyeon.
pairing. . ! seonghyeon x / f ! reader
warning + info.. au of the book better than the movies,juhoon is her childhood crush,smau, seonghyeon, y/n and juhoon are childhood friends,slight angst, underrage drinking (don’t do that), mention of kiss
౨ৎ𝓃𝒾𝓃𝒾’𝓈 𝓃ℴ𝓉ℯ. this part came late but im actually stuck in my bed cause i have an heatstroke 💔 so im gonna try to post the other parts faster
synopsis . Y/N has spent years believing her childhood crush was the one. So when he suddenly comes back into her life, she’s determined to finally get her happy ending. So to get his attention, she team up with the one person she can’t stand, Eom seonghyeon.
pairing . ! seonghyeon x / f ! reader
warning + info. au of the book better than the movies, smau, seonghyeon, y/n and juhoon are childhood friends,slight angst, underrage drinking (don’t do that), mention of kiss, fake dating. frenemy to lover, stella from h2h as y/n bsf, kms joke
౨ৎ𝓃𝒾𝓃𝒾’𝓈 𝓃ℴ𝓉ℯ. i took a lot of time to post this one srry but im working on a juhoon fic thats whyyy!! anyways im so happy to hear you guys feedback !!
synopsis. Y/N has spent years believing her childhood crush was the one. So when he suddenly comes back into her life, she’s determined to finally get her happy ending. So to get his attention, she team up with the one person she can’t stand, Eom seonghyeon.
pairing. . ! seonghyeon x / f ! reader
warning + info. . au of the book better than the movies, smau, seonghyeon, y/n and juhoon are childhood friends,slight angst, underrage drinking (don’t do that), mention of kiss, fake dating. frenemy to lover, stella from h2h as y/n bsf, kms joke
౨ৎ𝓃𝒾𝓃𝒾’𝓈 𝓃ℴ𝓉ℯ. happy 10 follower day :p !! i started my account yesterday and don’t have cortisblr friend so guys bmf 🥺🥺🥺
synopsis. . Y/N has spent years believing her childhood crush was the one. So when he suddenly comes back into her life, she’s determined to finally get her happy ending. So to get his attention, she team up with the one person she can’t stand, Eom seonghyeon.
pairing. . ! seonghyeon x / f ! reader
warning + info. . au of the book better than the movies, smau, seonghyeon, y/n and juhoon are childhood friends,slight angst, underrage drinking (don’t do that), mention of kiss, fake dating. frenemy to lover, stella from h2h as y/n bsf, kms joke
౨ৎ𝓃𝒾𝓃𝒾’𝓈 𝓃ℴ𝓉ℯ. writing smau takes more time than i thought omg, anyways i hope you guys will like this series hihi
FIRST KISS WITH SEONGHYEON!
the cold air bristled against your cheeks and a shiver ran through you. you sat next to seonghyeon on a wooden park bench, all cute in your outfit that you’re currently wishing you reconsidered.
“cold?” you turned your head to him, nodding profusely. he laughing softly before shrugging his leather jacket off himself & handing it towards you.
“here, you need it more than me y/n.”
you took it graciously and put it around your own shoulders. you both stared into the night sky, gazing at the stars that lit the sky. “pretty.” seonghyeon said, breaking your gaze. “what is seong?” you asked, looking over at him.
“you. and- the stars too! i mean-“ he choked over his words, making you giggle. “thank you.” you accepted the compliment and scooted closer to him, letting your thighs & shoulders touch.
“body heat.” you quickly reasoned, your own face heating up. seonghyeon snaked a arm over you shoulders, “yeah, bodybuilder heat.”
you both looked up at the stars for a couple minutes & shared a couple jokes until a comfortable silence fell over the both of you.
people walked past you both, some others also sitting on other benches. it seemed as if time slowed down around you two.
you both turned towards each other, and this time, no one looked away.
the once comfortable silence turned into a tense one. neither of you could turn away & eventually, you both leaned in and your lips press against each other’s. his hand cupped your cheeks and yours tangled in his hair, you both pulled away and smiled.
“that was perfect seonghyeon, thank you.” you said quietly, resting your head on his shoulder. “you’re welcome y/n.” he smiled, resting his head ontop of yours.
(bonus)
back at the cortis dorm, seonghyeon quietly admitted that you two kissed. and that quiet confession turned into complete chaos.
martin yelled first, “YOU GUYS FINALLY KISSED?!”
then it was james, “MY SEONGHYEON IS ALL GROWN UP, MY Y/N TOO😕!” he had tears, yes. LITERAL TEARS. forming in his eyes.
all seonghyeon could do was sigh and make his way back to his room; still smiling from the feel of your lips on his.
・❥・ 15+ Kissing, Play fighting, Swearing, Enemies to Lovers (Kind of not really), Best friends Brother, Reader is 18,
・❥・ Synopsis- When the one person you despise most picks you up from class, what will you do when the car breaks down unexpectedly… in the middle of nowhere.
・❥・First time writing a kiss scene with someone besides James so i’m a little scared 🫣 but hopefully this ain’t too crazy. Starts off with text message but goes into writing!
Playlist - Single by The NBHD
ִֶָ. ..𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ🪽་༘࿐
You wait at the curb just like he said, arms crossed, heart beating.
He did make you nervous, as much as you’d hate to admit it.
It was same amount of nerves as every other person you weren’t close with.
The car slowly pulled up, the window already down, his eyes immediately meeting yours.
You look down shyly before beginning to walk around the car to the passenger seat.
You open the door, he doesn’t look. A song playing lightly through the speakers, he taps his hands on the steering wheel, he seemed just as nervous.
You climb into the seat, throwing your bag onto the floor buckling the seatbelt before looking straight, waiting for him to start.
No words are exchanged when he undoes the parking break, slowly heading towards the exit.
It’s a left turn, he’s hesitant. He misses multiple opportunities to exit, making you snort slightly.
“Shut up.” He quickly remarks, still watching the road. Your hand gently covers your mouth, trying not to giggle more at his overly careful driving. It could be worse you guess.
Finally he gets on the road, his speed quickening.
He doesn’t go too far above the speed limit, just a steady pace. He would never put you in danger.
“You’re a pretty good driver boy.” You playfully say, looking over at him cutely focusing. His posture is straight, both hands on the wheel.
You were older so you had free reign on teasing.
“Yea i’m sure any driving is impressive to you.”
He was referring to a time when you picked him and your best friend up and maybe… just maybe almost got in an accident.
“Ugh!” You scoff dramatically, looking out the window when he turns toward you, smirking.
You look back meeting his gaze, his smile drops as he looks away facing forward, licking his lips.
Your head turns like a puppy analyzing him. You couldn’t lie, you were mesmerized, not even realizing you were staring.
“What?” He says, snapping you out of your trance.
“What?!” You say defensively, looking back out the window crossing your arms.
Instead of taking a left he takes a right. You know it’s the wrong way, you’ve taken the bus home 50 times already that year, you knew the route.
“Um-“ You sit up, your hands propping you up as you look down the road nervously.
“Relax, I'm going a quicker way.” He reassures you. He watches as you slowly rest back into your seat, a smile curving up his lips.
You don’t say anything, just pull out your phone, trying to distract yourself.
Suddenly he turns on the highway.
You’re way too nervous to say anything, just looking up from your phone, scrolling mindlessly.
Eventually he takes an exit, it was obviously a very rural area. You had no idea where you were.
“You’re not taking me somewhere to kill me right?” You joke nervously.
“Would that be bad?” He stares forward slightly smirking, his mouth still closed, like he was trying not to laugh.
You push his arm, he falls to the side, gasping playfully, pretending it hurts.
“Sean… seriously, where the fuck are we?” You ask slightly hysterically, looking out the window at the treelined streets.
“It’s okay, just wait.”
You sit back in your seat nervously, slipping down deeper and deeper.
Suddenly the car slows down… randomly, nonsensically.
“What the fuck.” He whispers, saying the words almost all in one.
“What’s going on?!” You question, promptly sitting up.
“This stupid-“ He hits the steering wheel.
“This car god!” He says angrily, staring at the speedometer going down slowly.
You turn around to see a car quickly nearing the back of yours, it didn’t seem to be slowing down.
“Sean…” You say looking back terrified, your voice shaking.
“What?” He says slightly annoying, looking over at you.
When he sees you looking back he quickly checks the mirror.
“Oh shit!” He swerves off the street with the little bit of juice left in the car, going straight down a shallow hill.
He slowly breaks, allowing the car to settle in the grass right next to the road.
You sit, your hands on either side, staring in shock.
“I’m so sorry.” He says breathlessly.
You look over at him wide eyed, slightly pissed off, but also still too much shock to get mad.
You see it. You’re holding hands.
Right when you look at it, so does he, you both let go at the same point pulling your hands back.
You lick your lips nervously, slowly turning towards him.
“So… what now?” You smile slightly, quite frankly you were so appalled by how unexpected this evening was going, all you could do is laugh.
He rests his head against the steering wheel, his hands on either side, when he looks over at you. He smiles before flipping his head back, hiding behind his hands in embarrassment, his hair covering his face.
“What?!” You chuckle, leaning forward pushing him gently.
“I guess… call Jordan” (Your friend/His sister) He says, his head still pressed against the steering wheel. At that moment you were reminded he was in fact younger than you. You open your phone immediately noticing, only an SOS symbol.
“I have no service.” You say nervously, your heart dropping, suddenly your anxiety set in.
“Okay I still have one bar, let me call her.” He opened the door, stepping out slamming it behind him. He stood outside, his phone held up against his ear, his other hand hugging his opposing arm. Your mind was racing a mile a minute, you stared blankly not even realizing you were staring at him until he turned around, meeting your eyes.
You didn’t break it, you maintained eye contact.
His mouth started moving, you knew he was talking to her. It didn’t take long before he put the phone down, looking at it confused, his eyebrows furrowed.
He glared out at the road, obviously annoyed before opening the door and slipping back in the seat.
“What happened?” You ask impatiently.
“It died.” He raises his eyebrows, pursing his lips in a way that signified he was giving up.
“What?” You snap back, his nonchalance pissing you off.
“So… is she coming-“
“No, but she knows where we are?”
“What… why are you being so weird.”
“Because I don’t want to be stuck here.” He reached down for the red bull in the drink compartment, taking a sip staring out the window. The whole conversation he didn’t look at you once.
“Whatever.” You cross your arms, turning your whole body towards the window.
You always knew he was an asshole. You never spent more than 5 minutes with him, but every time he managed to piss you off.
He didn’t try to mend the situation, even if he complained more you would’ve liked it better than just sitting in silence.
Both of your phones wifi didn’t work so you just sat, readjusting every few minutes, him taking a sip from his redbud while you checked the clock.
“Okay so what?” You finally sit up smacking the middle storage compartment in anger.
His eyebrows raised as he almost spit up his drink, you catching him mid sip.
“What?” He says confused, glaring at you.
“We’re just gonna sit here… and like what?” Your hands are in the air waving around hysterically as you speak. You felt crazy trying to get through to him. He was SUCH a teenage boy, you couldn’t stand it anymore. You opened the door and stepped out.
You heard him begin to speak but you closed the door cutting him off purposefully.
With your arms crossed you walked down the side of the road, waiting for him to follow you.
You hear the door slam.
“Hey!” He yells, he shuffled towards you running slowly.
“Y/N stop.” He stood in front of you, stopping you from walking any further. You look up at him, your mouth in a pout. You know you were being dramatic but you didn’t care. You wanted him to react, show some sort of urgency, anything.
“She’s coming okay-“ He stepped forward, his hand reaching forward cupping the side of your arm.
You flinched involuntarily, not physically, just your heart, skipping a beat at his touch. You weren’t sure why.
“Okay.” You look down, your feet kicking the dirt below. You didn’t move not wanting to go back into the car, but too exhausted to walk forward.
“Are you okay?” His random display of empathy shocked you. You looked up with doe eyes, blinking gently.
His eyebrows turned in at the sight of you, his eyes darted around nervously, fidgeting, placing his hands in his pockets as he bit his lip innocently. You noticed this. You smiled gently looking towards the road, then back down at your feet.
“Yea.” You reassured him with a gentle purse and your lips.
You now stared at each other, his head leaning back, his eyes looked down at you narrowing suspiciously, his eyebrow raising gently.
You tried to hide your smile but it was impossible. Your eyes trailed down seeing the band of his under.
“Pull up your pants asshole.” You suddenly say, your eyes burning through him.
“Why… does it bother you?” He questioned, smirking gently.
You rolled your eyes and scoffed before turning around.
You could hear him running up to stand next to you.
“So… did you break up with that guy?” Not sure who he was talking about, you look over at him, raising an eyebrow.
“What?”
“Come on, the guy you were at that party with.” Just then it clicked, it was a random guy you had met that night. He kept following around like a lost puppy, and you let him, considering he wasn’t the ugliest person there.
“Sean.” You turn your head staring at him blankly.
“What?” He questioned his voice cracking when he put his hands up.
“I don’t even remember that guy's name.”
You looked down watching your converse soak into the wet grass.
You were lying. You remembered exactly who he was.
“What about you?” You asked, looking forward.
“What? No, I'm single… if that’s what you're asking?” He rambled slightly, making you smile, trying not to laugh at his innocence.
“Yea… I forgot you’re a baby.” You said the words knowing it would piss him off. He was only one year younger than you, but no matter what, he was your little sister's baby brother.
“Ugh.” He stopped suddenly, standing, glaring at you from behind.
You just laughed, your head flying back as you continued to walk towards the car.
You made it back to the car when he quickly ran in front of you reaching for the passenger door.
It didn’t open.
You leaned against the car, arms crossed watching him, judgment covered your face.
He suddenly looked confused, not even embarrassed.
“This shouldn’t be locked.” He asserted, running around to the drivers side.
You watched him through the window trying to open the door. It was locked.
“Sean!” You yell loudly.
“Shit.” He yelled, kicked the door, his hands in his hair as he looked down the road hopelessly. He was too embarrassed to look back at you.
You turned around, still leaning against the car. He walked over slowly, his head hung low in shame.
“I’m sorry.” He said guiltily, his hand pulling back his hair.
“No it’s okay… I shouldn’t have left.” You reassured him.
Before he could respond you felt a drop on your nose. You both looked up to see the clouds painting the sky completely grey.
“I swear to god.” You remark, your hands covering your face.
“It’s okay it’s uh-“ He didn’t know what to say, trying to stay nonchalant when he was obviously nervous.
Before you knew it the rain was pouring. Not just a sprinkle, a complete downpour.
You ran into the forest lining the road, Seonghyeon not far behind you.
You screamed, running deeper and deeper, until you no longer felt the rain hitting you.
Eventually you found a place where it was only a light sprinkle, taking cover under a shallow tree.
He snuggled in right next to you, your arms smushed against each other, both leaning over, extremely uncomfortable.
You hadn’t looked at each other once the whole time, until now.
You made eye contact, your noses inches apart. He looked down at your lips, instinctively you followed, looking down at his. In an instant you both turned away. It wasn’t even a second before your eyes found their way back, he was already watching you, waiting for you. You blinked gently, lost in his hazel irises. His hair was wet, sticking to his forehead.
He panted gently. His eyes moved up and down your face repeatedly at a rapid speed.
You knew he was thinking about it, kissing you.
You meant to lean back only an inch, when you fell back, hard, your behind hitting the mud. You could feel it immediately soaking through your pants.
“Ughhh!” You remarked loudly, pouting with your eyes stapled closed, scared to open them.
He laughed loudly. You glared at him, when he covered his mouth snorting. You don’t know what overcame you, maybe it was out of spite, or just pure anger, but you reach forward, aggressively yanking his shirt towards you.
You weren’t sure what you originally intended by pulling him. Maybe he would faceplant and land on his chest, or fall forward on his hands and knees. But neither of those things ended up happening. He collided with you, falling forward, making you collapse on your back, his hands on either side of you. You laughed uncontrollably, your head flying back. He didn’t laugh, he simply stared, distracted by your neck, watching you turn back towards him.
You stopped laughing almost instantly when you saw him so close.
His hair fell forward, just the ends grazing your forehead, while his necklace dangled, ticking your neck.
He didn’t look like a boy anymore.
His arms shook, as was holding himself up. He was losing strength slowly, propped up on one knee between your legs, while his other leg stayed straight, his converse digging into the mud.
You noticed him losing stability and in fear of him falling on you, you grabbed his shirt flipping him over suddenly.
“Ugggghhhh.” He grunted, his back squishing into the mud. You were both completely covered at this point and there was no point in trying to stay clean.
You laughed again, your legs on either side of his hips, still tightly gripping his shirt.
No longer under the bush, the rain soaked your back instantly, but you didn’t care. In the heat of the summer, the rain was warm, comforting. Once you were fully submerged it was more like a blanket. Your hair fell forward, surrounding his face.
He reached up, his fingers intertwining with the loose strands, tucking them behind your ear. You watched him, how focused he was, how unaware he was of his beauty.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, you kissed him.
It was quick, soft, like two kindergarteners.
You pulled your head back, opening your eyes to see him, his lips pink, his cheeks rosy, his pupils dilated.
Your hand met his cheek rubbing the side with your thumb, you noticed the mud from your hand painting his face, but you didn’t stop.
His hand curved around your neck, and before you could stop him, he kissed you again.
This time, longer, slower.
You couldn’t even try to pull away as he held you in, his grip strong around your neck.
He sat upright. The rain fell between your faces, mixing with your kiss. Your arm wrapped around his neck, your other hand holding his cheek. His lips met yours perfectly, you were completely lost in the kiss, it felt insane to stop now.
Both of his hands went up the back of your shirt, your back arching into his touch, when you finally pulled back. The rain poured down his face, his eyelashes long, the rain running through them, his lips glossed over, his hair stuck to his forehead. He laughed softly, grinning widely looking up at you. He bit his lip playfully before he shook his head quickly, the access water hitting you in the face, you squealed, squinting your eyes. When you opened them he was combing his hair back, slicking it back with the rainwater. You reached forward, pulling his head back as you assisted him in tucking the loose strands away. When you finished you cupped his face, smiling seductively, drunk off of his kiss.
You sat in his lap, every single item of clothing you wore was soaked, glued to your bodies.
The rain poured so loud, you just sat in silence.
He leaned forward, his lips pressed against your ear.
“Still think I'm just a baby?” He said, his deep voice vibrating through your ear.
You bit your lip at his comment, your fingers squeezing his shirt tighter.
He kissed your cheek gently before coming back in front of you.
“Yes.” You say, your hand meeting his face, your thumb rubbing his cheekbone gently.
You then lean forward towards his ear.
“My baby.” You whisper as your hand lightly grips the front of his neck.
You pull back, your hand releasing from his neck, running down his chest, down his abs, now prominent, the rain glueing his shirt to his skin.
You gulp gently as the sight, when his hand meets your face, pulling forward and kissing you one last time.
Just then you hear a honk, you both look towards the road. You see headlights shooting through the forest, it’s Jordan.
You stand up quickly, he reaches his hands up like a child, waiting for you to help him.
You laugh, grabbing them, yanking him upwards until he’s on his feet, towering over you.
You turn around when he grabs your wrist, interlocking his fingers with yours. He walked next to you now, planting a kiss on the side of your forehead.
You reach the end of the forest, you release his hand gently at the sight of her car.
You step out into the street, quickly running to the passenger door, throwing it open.
“Oh my god! Are you okay?! Here grab that towel from the back!” She exclaims loudly pointing to the backseat.
You hear the back door open. You don’t even flinch, not wanting her to notice anything.
She was smart, that’s why she was your best friend, she would figure it out immediately.
“Sean? You okay?” She asked firmly, looking back at him through the rear view mirror.
“Yep.” He said emotionlessly, like it was obvious he wasn’t.
“Okay kids, let’s get you home.” She giggled her shoulders perking up when she looked over at you.
She pulled off the street shoulder, immediately starting the descent back home.
“So what happened?” She asked, staring forward still focused on the street.
“Nothing. We got locked out and then we attempted to take cover in the forest… we failed obviously.” You said, pulling the towel tighter around your body.
“Sean why didn’t you just use the back door? It never locks, it was probably open.” She says looking back at him, her eyebrows in a confused furrow.
“It wasn’t.” He said blankly.
You knew for a fact he didn’t check the back door.
You looked in the side mirror and saw his eyes already on you. You both smiled before looking away instantaneously.
“Do you have any more towels?” You asked.
“Oh yea… Sean… pass her another from the back.”
He shoves the towel between the head rest and side of the car, when you reach back to grab it you touch his hand on accident, he doesn’t pull it back, instead he readjusts, placing his hand on top of yours. You pull yours away quickly, immediately looking at Jordan, she’s completely oblivious, you lay the towel over your legs.
You glare at him in the mirror. He looks back at you, winking, the rest of his face staying stiff. You scoff, shaking your head gently.
“What?” Jordan questions.
“Nothing, just thinking.” You lean back looking at him again, squinting in anger as he smirks, biting his lip mischievously.
“Why were you guys all the way out here anyways?”
You both sat in silence staring forward, waiting for the other to speak.
“It was her idea.” Finally he breaks the silence.
“Yea sure.” You immediately respond, a small smirk escaping.
You didn’t notice but Jordan was now looking. Her eyes darting between the two of you, and just then, it was over, she knew everything.
✿ ───── in which , eom seonghyeon was bet a hundred that he can’t bag a date. unfortunately for you, you became that very date of his, unaware that you were only asked out because of the stupid bet. part one , part two
haii part 2 finally yay!! lwk seems kinda rush my bad for that guys 😭😭 i lit js random lock in for like 15 mins and make my posts bc gen who is bothered for planning
𝗜𝗡 𝗪𝗛𝗜𝗖𝗛 . . . your crush went private on everything, so that just means one thing. start a fake cupcake business to stalk him obviously
• ﹙PRÉCIS﹚, ✿21𝓈 ㅤㅤ ⸻ crush hyeon & 𝒻. rea 𓂃 Ⓢmau ࣪ ˖ reader is plotting 𝄞 ⸝⸝ ⟢ 、blind leading blind 𓏏 >﹏<
💬 𓈒 ℬambi notes : hahaha hi guys Breaking my small little no Posting break lols…….. isn’t my best work but ykw we persevere 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 also peep the new layout yes yes yes anyways oki on everyones life ima b more active hahaha 😅😅👀👀👋👋
i was wondering if you could make hcs of ot5 with introverted!reader?
tysm and take care! <3
cortis x introverted!reader
✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: how cortis members would be with introverted!reader
masterlist
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➺❥ james
loves to just relax with you
doesn’t mind that you’re introverted at all, he actually finds it endearing how you feel comfortable enough to be more extroverted around him compared to other people
he would love for you to meet his family and friends, so would mean the world to him if you came out of shell a little for him
you always light up his day, so every time he sees you his battery starts to recharge
he just knows he can finally relax and not keep up his walls anymore around you
my man is READY to come to your rescue if you become uncomfortable, he just knows when he needs to step in to give you a break
at every outing he will always be the reason as to why you guys leave
even though most of the it’s you wanting to leave he will always be the one to make up an excuse like he’s tired, or he’s hungry so you both have to leave
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➺❥ juhoon
he’s another one that doesn’t mind it at all
i see him as a quality time kind of person, so he would love to just have you guys do your own thing in the presence of each other
finds a lot of comfort in just knowing you’re there and he can always go to you, and you’ll just let him be
so he would never push you out of your comfort zone, even if that means he has to push himself out
likes doing activities with you that don’t involve other people, like a late night at the park when it’s just you two
he likes being the more extroverted one at times, since most of the time he tends to be the more introverted one
he feels like he’s “protecting” or doing his good bf duties
great listener, so loves when you open up to him and talk about literally anything
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➺❥ martin
he thinks you’re the cutest thing
will embarrass himself for you if you ever think there’s too much attention on you, or you get overwhelmed, all just to make you smile and to direct attention back to himself
d1 hype man
he will flaunt and show you off if it’s the last thing he’ll ever do
finds it to be very cute when you get flustered over this
you help him calm down and slow his pace a little bit, cause as we know this man can be a ball of energy sometimes
you guys will be having date nights in the studio, with just the two of you, since he’s literally always there
he likes the fact that you aren’t as shy with him, makes him feel special that you open up to him
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➺❥ seonghyeon
also is big on family and friends, so similar to james it would mean everything if you opened up a little for him
like i said in my cortis bf hc post he tends to be very extroverted around you, so he wouldn’t care if you’re introverted
even though he may not be huge with physical affection, he will always be there to hold your hand to calm you down when you’re overwhelmed
he’s not a big “words of affection” type of person anyways, so doesn’t mind if you’re not either, he thinks action speaks louder than words
very in tune with you, so he’ll just kind of go with whatever you wanna do, so if you wanna leave then guess he’s leaving too
will check up on you periodically when you guys are out, whether it’s a whispered “are you okay?” or a “how you feeling?” text
if someone ever comments on you being shy or not taking he will always step in and say something
knows that when you’re tired you like to be alone and just kind of have your space, so he’ll send a message like “i’m always here when you’re ready, take your time and relax”
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➺❥ keonho
this man is so ready to speak up for you, he’ll do all of the talking
i kid you not like anytime you guys are out he’s going to be ordering for you, paying for you, answering questions for you, just so you don’t have to go out of your comfort zone
yet he also pushes you to get out of your comfort zone sometimes, but he makes it fun, never pushing too much
he likes teasing you so you get shy, genuinely thinks it’s the cutest thing
you guys are a prime example of golden retriever and black cat
d1 hype man pt.2
he is unapologetic about showing you off, it doesn’t matter if you’re with him or not
if you’re not there he is showing off his lock screen and yapping about you, but if you’re with him he’s gonna talk about you like there’s no tomorrow, then finds it cute when you get shy over it
synopsis: keonho being the loudest boyfriend of the quietest girl, and somehow it all just seems to make sense for the two of you.
word count: 7.0k
info+warnings: extroverted!bf!keonho, fluff, established relationship, shy/quiet + bookworm reader, teen romance, profanities, skinship, kissing
On paper, you and Keonho made absolutely no sense.
You were polar opposites to the highest degree. He was the most talkative and outgoing boy you think you've ever met, having lines of people greeting him as he passed in the hallways, whereas you were the girl who could walk through a crowded cafeteria and remain completely invisible, a ghost in a sea of noise. He lived for the spotlight of conversation; you craved the quiet corners of the library. It was a cosmic mismatch, a social experiment doomed to fail. Yet there you were, two years into a relationship that confused everyone except the two of you.
It had all started a few months into your first year of high school. You had been walking home, earbuds in, the entire world muted. Your mind was already halfway through the chapters you needed to read for tomorrow, your fingers tracing the spine of your worn-out library book.
A blur of motion, a flash of dark blue fabric, and a solid thud sent you stumbling sideways. Your earbuds ripped out of your ears, your book flew from your hands, and you were suddenly very, very aware of a warm grip on your elbow keeping you from face-planting into the concrete.
"OH SHIT—I'M SO SORRY—ARE YOU OKAY—"
The voice was a cannon blast to your carefully constructed silence. You blinked, disoriented, and glanced sideways.
Keonho stood beside you, eyes wide with genuine panic as they scanned your face, his school blazer half-falling off one shoulder. His hair was a disaster, like he'd run through a wind tunnel, and his backpack was hanging open, pens and crumpled papers threatening to escape. He was still gripping your elbow like you might evaporate if he let go.
You quickly regained your footing, standing upright. His hand lingered on your elbow for a second longer before he dropped it, flustered.
"I'm so sorry, Seonghyeon was being an idiot and—" his lips moved at a thousand miles a minute as he crouched down, his hands scrambling across the floor to pick up the small pile of scattered books. You bent down beside him, attempting to help though it became impossible when his fingers latched onto each spine just as you reached out, leaving you squatting there awkwardly whilst words continued to pour out of his mouth. "—I really should have been looking where I was going—wait, are you hurt anywhere? Please tell me you aren't injured—hang on… aren't you in my chemistry class?"
To be completely honest, you were unable to process any of the rapidfire comments thrown at you, far too enclosed in your own mind's attempt to make sense of the situation you now found yourself in.
You stood up slowly, deeming it far too awkward for you to remain at eye level with the boy. He was soon to follow, his hands fiddling with the books as he tried to organise them, clearly stalling.
"Uh—here—" He thrust them toward you, his fingers fumbling. "Your books. I think they're all here. I didn't—I hope I didn't bend any pages—"
You took them carefully, clutching them to your chest. "It's fine," you murmured. "They're fine."
"Oh. Good. That's—good." He scratched the back of his neck, his eyes darting everywhere except your face. "I really am sorry. I wasn't looking. Seonghyeon bet me I couldn't make it to the fountain before he counted to ten, and I'm an idiot who takes dumb bets—"
"Keonho."
He stopped and blinked. "Yeah?"
You didn't say anything else. Just gave him a small, almost imperceptible nod of acknowledgment that held a hint of forgiveness, and turned to leave.
You made it three steps before his voice caught up to you.
"Wait—I never got your name."
You paused and glanced back over your shoulder. He was standing there, his fingers fiddling with the ends of his untucked shirt, looking almost nervous.
"Y/N." You told him quietly, then you turned back around and kept walking, tucking your earbuds back in, drowning out the world.
You thought that would be the end of it. An awkward collision that would be instantly forgotten by the likes of someone like Keonho, but the next day in chem class, you felt eyes on you.
You turned to see Keonho sat across the room, chin propped on his palm, head tilted. When your eyes met his, he didn't look away. Instead, his lips curved into a smile: small and almost private, nothing like the loud, performative grins you'd seen him flash at everyone else.
He raised a hand in a tiny wave.
You stared at him for a beat, then turned back to your notes, your face unexpectedly warm.
After that, Keonho couldn't help but notice you at school now, and much worse, he wouldn't stop trying to talk to you.
The next morning, you spotted him in the hallway before he spotted you. He was surrounded by a cluster of friends, laughing at something one of them had said. His head was thrown back, the sound of it carrying easily over the morning chaos, bright and unguarded.
You ducked your head and kept walking, fingers tightening around the spine of your book.
Despite your best efforts he noticed you and ran to catch up to you by the lockers, slightly out of breath. "Hey," he said, falling into step beside you. "You walk fast."
You didn't stop. "I have class."
"I know, me too." He adjusted his bag on his shoulder, his steps slightly uneven as he matched your pace. "I just wanted to say sorry again for yesterday. I felt bad all night."
"You said sorry already."
"Yeah, but I meant it." He shoved his hands in his pockets, his gaze dropping to the floor for a second. "I don't usually—I mean, I'm not usually that clumsy. Well, okay, I am—but I don't usually knock people over. That was a first."
You glanced at him. He was looking at you now, his eyes earnest in a way that caught you off guard.
"You already said sorry," you repeated, softer this time.
"I know but I still feel bad." He kicked at an invisible pebble on the floor, his sneaker scuffing against the tile. "So I was thinking… I owe you a hot chocolate… To make up for it."
"You don't owe me anything."
"I know but I want to."
You didn't respond to that and he didn't push, he just walked beside you in surprising silence, his usual energy dialed down a few notches. It was almost comfortable, as though he already knew you weren't going to fill the space, and he was okay with that.
When you reached your classroom, he stopped at the door. His hand came up, hovering for a second like he wanted to touch your arm, then dropped back to his side. "See you around, Y/N," he said softly.
Then he was gone, swallowed by the flow of students.
The next day, he waved at you from across the cafeteria. You pretended not to see, and in response he only waved harder, nearly smacking the person next to him, and you could feel his eyes on you even through the chaos of the lunch rush.
You gave a tiny nod and turned back to your tray.
Mina followed your gaze, her line of sight slightly blocked by the passing students. "Who's that?"
"No one."
"He's staring at us."
You didn't look up. "He's not."
"He definitely is." Mina leaned forward, her voice dropping. "Wait… Is that Keonho? The Keonho? The one who's literally everywhere and in, like, every club ever and knows everyone?"
You shrugged, pushing rice around your bowl.
Mina's eyes widened. "How do you know him?"
"I don't. He ran into me."
"He ran into you." Mina's voice went flat with disbelief. "And now he won't stop staring at you?"
"It's not—" You glanced up despite yourself. He was still looking, a small smile on his face. When your eyes met his, he tilted his head, like he was checking if you were okay. You looked away quickly. "It's nothing."
"It's definitely something." She let you brood with that comment, choosing not to push you any further.
He found you in the library after school a few days later. Not intentionally—at least, you assumed not. He walked in with a friend and spotted you in your usual corner before you could disappear behind your book.
"Oh hey!" He dropped onto the chair across from you without asking, his bag thudding onto the floor. His friend lingered awkwardly for a moment, clearly not expecting to be ditched, before wandering off toward the fiction section. "Didn't peg you for a library person. Actually, wait, that's exactly what I'd peg you for. That came out wrong."
You closed your book slowly, marking your page. "What are you doing?"
"Studying. Obviously." He pulled out a crumpled worksheet from his bag, its edges soft and worn from being shoved around. "I need help with chem. You're good at chem, right? You look like you're good at chem."
"I'm average."
"Average is better than my 'please don't fail me' energy." He slid the paper across the table, his fingers tapping against it. "One question, that's all I'm asking, then I'll leave you alone."
You stared at the worksheet. The handwriting was messy, loops and squiggles in places where he'd clearly rushed. The first problem was partially solved, the steps correct until they suddenly weren't.
You pulled the paper toward you.
His shoulders relaxed almost imperceptibly, the tension leaving his frame. "Thanks."
It quickly became a routine. He'd show up at the library, always with "one question" that somehow stretched into an hour of him talking about everything except chemistry.
His dog named Cookie who he claimed was smarter than him and had once eaten an entire pizza off the counter. His failed attempt at baking a cake for his sister's birthday that caused the smoke alarm to go off and the fire department to almost show up, and somehow the cake was still raw in the middle. Seonghyeon, who apparently had the worst impulse control of anyone he'd ever met and had once thrown his phone into a tree just to prove he could.
You'd half-listen, half-study, and he never seemed to mind that you barely said two words. Sometimes you'd glance up and catch him watching you, eyes boring into you like he was trying to solve a puzzle he found interesting. His gaze would flick away immediately, but not before you saw the faint flush creep up his neck.
One day, he didn't show up.
You told yourself it was fine, he didn't owe you anything. You weren't friends, and this totally wasn't a thing.
Though you spent the entire hour staring at the same paragraph in your textbook, reading it seven times and even then still had no idea what it said.
By the time you packed up your bag, you were annoyed at yourself for caring as much about that strange boy as you now apparently did.
The next morning, he appeared at your locker before you even had your combination turned.
"Sorry about yesterday," he said, slightly breathless, he'd apparently run the entire way. "Seonghyeon dragged me to some event. His younger sister's band was playing and he made me go. I didn't want to, I wanted to come with you. I swear I didn't ditch you on purpose."
You pulled out your textbooks, keeping your face neutral. "You don't have to come every day."
"I know." He leaned against the lockers, arms crossing loosely. "But I like coming, you're good company."
"I don't talk."
"That's what I like about you." He said it simply, without his usual theatrics. "You don't fill the silence with nonsense. You just sit there and listen. It's nice. Peaceful."
You didn't know what to say to that. No one had ever called your silence peaceful before. Most people found it uncomfortable, a void they needed to fill or else it felt like the ground would swallow them whole from awkwardness.
He held out a granola bar, slightly crushed at the edges. "Here, to make up for yesterday."
You took it slowly, your fingers brushing his though he didn't flinch or pull away. "You don't have to keep making up for things," you said.
"I know." He shrugged, already falling into step beside you as you started walking. "But I want to."
It went on like that for weeks, and somewhere along the way, you started noticing things.
His laugh changed when something genuinely caught him off guard—loud and surprised, all of his usual composure crumbling. His hands moved when he talked, always in motion, sketching shapes in the air. His voice dropped just slightly when he said your name, like it was something delicate he was handling carefully.
But most of all, he never pushed, never asked why you were so quiet, never made you feel like you needed to perform for him.
He just stayed, and you didn't quite know what to do with that.
It was Mina who finally asked, after watching him wave at you across the courtyard for the third time that week.
"So what's the deal with you two?"
"There's no deal."
"He follows you around like a puppy."
"He's just apologetic for running into me." You kept your eyes on your book, even though you'd stopped reading. "He only appears, like, once a day."
"Okay, first of all, it's been weeks since then, he should be over it by now. And second of all, that's literally following." Mina poked your arm. "And you just let him."
You didn't have a response to that because she was right, you did let him. You could've walked away, told him to leave you alone, stayed quiet and distant in the way you did with everyone else.
But when he sat across from you in the library, chattering away about nothing, you found yourself glancing up more often, even listening closer. You didn't mind his noise the way you minded everyone else's.
At some point across the many days Keonho spent in your orbit, your feelings about him began to shift.
It wasn't a single moment. There was no dramatic realisation, no sudden bolt of lightning. It crept in slowly, quietly, the way morning light fills a room before you notice it's no longer dark.
You caught yourself looking for him in the hallways. Your eyes would just wander, scanning the crowd, and when they landed on his familiar mop of messy hair, something in your chest would settle as though you'd been holding your breath without realising it.
You started noticing the small things he was doing for you. The way he always made sure to leave you the last bite of whatever snack he brought, and he'd angle his body toward you when he talked, like you were the only person in the room. He'd also pause mid-sentence when you finally spoke, giving you his full attention like what you had to say mattered more than whatever he'd been saying.
The library became a sacred place for the two of you.
He'd show up after school, drop his bag on the floor, and slide into the seat across from you like he belonged there. Which, you realised, he kind of did now.
Sometimes he studied, though more often he talked.
You never offered much in return, but he never asked for more than you were ready to give.
"I don't even know your favourite color," he said one day, looking up from his worksheet.
You blinked. "Why does that matter?"
"It doesn't, I just want to know." He shrugged. "I want to know everything about you."
You told him it was purple. Deep purple, like the sky right before it goes dark. He smiled because you'd finally, finally, given him something personal. "The color of the sky," he repeated. "That's really pretty."
You felt heat creep up your neck and looked back at your book.
It was on one of these evenings that you realised it had already happened.
He was rambling about something you could no longer remember, and you were pretending to read, but really you were just watching him be his naturally extroverted self.
And you thought, oh.
You liked him. Not just tolerated him, not just got used to him. You genuinely, completely, helplessly liked him.
You didn't know what to do with that. You'd never felt this pull toward someone before, this warmth that spread through your chest when he smiled at you. It was terrifying and exhilarating all at once.
You didn't tell him in that moment because you weren't sure you could.
But he noticed something had changed. Of course he did, he was far too observant of your tells for you to be able to hide something as big as, what you believed to be, unrequited love from him
"You're staring," he said one afternoon, looking up from his phone. "Not that I mind, but you're staring."
You looked away quickly. "I was thinking."
"About what?"
"Nothing."
"You're lying." He leaned forward, a teasing grin on his face. "You're thinking about something. What is it? Are you finally going to admit I'm charming?"
"You're insufferable."
"Keep telling yourself that."
You laughed and his grin softened into something deeper, warmer.
"I like that sound," he said quietly.
"What sound?"
"You laughing." He said it simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I like making you laugh."
Your heart did something complicated in your chest as you quickly moved your gaze downward, hoping he didn’t notice the blush rapidly creeping onto your cheeks.
The weeks blurred together. His presence became a constant in your life, something you'd started to rely on without admitting it to yourself.
He'd find you in the mornings, falling into step beside you with a half-eaten breakfast bar or a coffee he'd grabbed for you. He'd walk you to class, talking the entire way, and you'd listen and nod and pretend you weren't memorising the way his hair fell across his forehead. He'd wave at you across crowded rooms, his grin wide and unashamed, and you'd feel a warmth spread through your chest that had nothing to do with the temperature.
You noticed how he was different with you than with everyone else.
Around his friends, he was loud and performative, always the center of attention, always making people laugh. But around you, he dialed it back. He still talked—he'd never stop talking, you were absolutely sure of that—but it was quieter. More genuine, as though he felt like he didn't need to impress you or perform.
"You're the only one who sees me," he said one evening, his voice soft. "The real me, not the show."
You looked up from your book. He was staring at the table, his fingers tracing the wood grain.
"What do you mean?" You asked, brows furrowing.
"I mean—" He paused, searching for the words. "Everyone expects me to be a certain way. Loud, funny, always on, and I can do that. It's easy. But sometimes it's exhausting pretending to be that version of myself all the time."
He looked up at you. "With you, I don't have to pretend. You don't expect anything from me, you just let me be."
Something in your chest tightened. "I like the real you," you said quietly.
His eyes met yours properly, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence stretched between you, but it wasn't awkward. It felt like something was being shared.
"Yeah?" His voice was barely above a whisper.
"Yeah."
He smiled softly as you both continued what you had been doing before, choosing to ignore the way something in your gut had flipped.
It was late November when the first real change happened.
He'd walked you to the bus stop like usual, but the bus was late. The sky was dark, the air cold, and you were shivering in your thin jacket.
"Here." He shrugged off his hoodie and handed it to you without a second thought.
"You'll be cold."
"I'll survive." He shoved his hands in his pockets, not taking it back. "You need it more than me."
You hesitated, then pulled it on. It was too big, drowning you in fabric, but it was warm and smelled like him: something clean and faintly sweet.
He stared at you for a second longer than necessary, then cleared his throat. "It looks better on you anyway."
You rolled your eyes at his attempt to flirt, but you were smiling.
Then one afternoon following the weather turned. A grey sky that had been threatening rain all day finally opened up, dumping sheets of water across the pavement. You'd left your umbrella at home.
You stood under the overhang of the school entrance, watching the rain come down, mentally calculating your chances of making it to the bus stop without getting soaked. Your jacket was thin. Your books would be ruined. You'd survive, but it wouldn't be pleasant.
"Forgot your umbrella?"
You turned. Keonho was leaning against the doorway, hands in his pockets, a knowing smile on his face.
You sighed. "Don't say it."
"Say what?"
"Whatever you're about to say."
"I was just going to say," he said, stepping beside you, "that I have an extra. Because I'm always prepared. Very responsible, ask anyone."
He pulled out a large umbrella, bright red, and held it out to you.
You stared at it. "You brought an extra just in case?"
"I brought an extra because I know you never carry one."
You blinked. "You’re watching me?"
"Always." He said it so casually, like it was the most normal thing in the world. Then he seemed to realise what he'd said, his ears turning pink. "I mean—I noticed. In passing. I pay attention to things."
You didn't say anything. Just took the umbrella, your fingers brushing his.
"It's too big for one person," you said quietly. "You should share."
He blinked at you, like he hadn't expected that. Then his smile widened, slow and surprised. "Okay," he said, stepping under the umbrella with you. "Okay. Yeah, that works."
You walked to the bus stop together, close enough that your shoulders brushed. The rain pounded against the fabric above you, loud and steady, but underneath it, everything felt strangely quiet.
He didn't say much and neither did you.
The bus arrived just as you arrived, and you moved towards it. He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to touch your wrist.
"Hey." You turned. His face was close, closer than it had ever been. "Can I ask you something?"
You nodded, your heart suddenly loud in your ears.
"Are you ever going to tell me how you feel?" His voice was soft, uncertain. "Because I've been trying to figure it out for weeks, and I think I know, but I don't want to assume, and—"
"Yes."
He stopped, eyebrows raising in surprise. "Yes?"
You swallowed. Your heart was pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it, your palms were sweaty, and you'd never felt more exposed in your entire life. Every instinct screamed at you to look away, to retreat back into the safety of your silence, but you forced yourself to hold his gaze.
"I like you," you said, the words barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean to. It just happened. And I don't know what to do with it, and I don't know if you'd want someone like me when you could have anyone, but—"
You didn't get to finish.
His hand came up to cup your cheek, his palm warm against your skin, and then his lips were on yours.
The kiss was soft at first, his lips brushed against yours gently, giving you every opportunity to pull away if you wanted to. But you didn't want to, you couldn't imagine wanting anything else in that moment.
Your eyes fluttered closed and everything else faded, there was only him, the warmth of his hand on your cheek, the softness of his lips, the faint scent of him that you'd grown so familiar with over the past weeks.
His thumb traced a gentle path along your jaw, and you felt yourself lean into him, your body moving on its own accord. Your free hand came up to grip the front of his shirt, fisting the fabric, needing something to anchor yourself.
When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his eyes still closed and his breath warm and uneven against your skin. When he opened them, they were bright, almost dazed, like he couldn't quite believe what had just happened.
"Sorry," he said, not sounding sorry at all. "I've wanted to do that for weeks. I just needed to know you felt something too. I didn't want to—"
You pulled him back.
This time you kissed him like you meant it, like you'd been holding it in for weeks and finally had permission to let it out.
His hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, threading through your hair. His other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer, and you let him. You let yourself be pulled into his warmth, into the circle of his arms, into this moment that felt both terrifying and right.
When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless. His forehead rested against yours again, his eyes still closed, a smile tugging at his lips.
"Okay," he whispered. "Okay. That was—"
"Yeah," you agreed, your voice coming out shaky.
He laughed, bright and surprised, and pulled you into a proper hug, his arms wrapping around you tightly. You buried your face in his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat against your ear.
His hand came up to stroke your hair, gentle and soothing.
"I've wanted to do that for so long," he murmured into your hair. "You have no idea. Every time you looked at me, every time you laughed, every time you said my name—I just wanted to—"
He broke off, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
"You're really something, you know that?" He said. "You're quiet and you keep to yourself and you never told me how you felt, and somehow you're still the most interesting person I've ever met."
You pulled back to look at him, your face warm. "I'm not interesting."
"You're the most interesting person I know," he insisted. "You have a whole universe inside your head, and you let me see little pieces of it. And I just—" He shook his head, smiling. "I love that. I love you."
Your heart stopped.
He seemed to realise what he'd said, his eyes widening slightly, but he didn't take it back. He just looked at you, vulnerable and hopeful.
"I mean it," he said, his voice softer now. "I know it's fast. I know we haven't even been—but I've felt it for a while. I didn't want to say it too soon, but—"
"Keonho."
He stopped.
You reached up to touch his face, your fingers tracing his jaw the way you'd wanted to for weeks. "I love you too," you said.
His face broke into the most genuine smile you'd ever seen on him: wide and unguarded and full of so much emotion it made your chest ache.
"Yeah?" He whispered.
"Yeah."
He kissed you again, slower this time, pouring everything he couldn't say into it. His lips were warm and soft, his hand gentle on your waist, and you felt like you were floating.
When he pulled back, he was grinning. "So," he said, his voice breathless. "Does this mean I can walk you to the bus stop holding your hand now?"
The days that followed were different. Not in any huge, obvious way—he was still loud, still talkative, still showed up at your locker every morning. But something had shifted between you to the point where there was a new awareness, a new intimacy.
He started holding your hand everywhere: in the hallways, at the library, at the bus stop. He'd lace his fingers through yours like it was the most natural thing in the world, and you'd let him, surprised by how right it felt.
His friends noticed. Seonghyeon had raised an eyebrow the first time he saw you two together. "So this is the quiet girl?" He’d asked, looking you over. "The one you've been obsessed with?"
"I'm not obsessed," Keonho said, his ears turning red. "I just—"
"You literally followed her around for months."
"I didn't follow—"
"You made a spreadsheet of her favourite books."
Keonho groaned. "Seonghyeon, shut up."
You blinked. "You made a spreadsheet?"
"To figure out what you'd like," he mumbled, not meeting your eyes but keeping his hand locked onto yours throughout. "For future gift purposes. It was strategic."
You laughed, bright and surprised, and he looked at you like you'd just handed him the world.
"You're so weird," you said.
"Yeah, but you like me anyway."
You did. You really, really did.
The two years passed in a blur of shared moments.
Winter mornings where he'd show up with two cups of hot chocolate, one for each of you, his nose red from the cold. Spring afternoons where you'd study in the library, his head resting on your shoulder while he pretended to read. Summer evenings where you'd walk home together, the sun setting behind you, his arm slung loosely around your shoulders. Fall days where he'd kick through piles of leaves just to watch you smile.
He was still loud, still talkative, still the boy who knew everyone and was friends with everyone.
But he was yours, and somehow, impossibly, you were his.
Something in Keonho seemed to switch off whenever he was around you.
It was the first thing you'd noticed about him, back when he'd started showing up at the library—how the loud, performative energy that he carried everywhere else would dim the moment he settled into the chair across from you. His shoulders would drop, his voice would soften, and his hands would still.
You'd never said anything about it. You weren't sure he even noticed himself, but it was there, always, a quiet shift that happened the moment he was in your orbit.
Now, two years later, you were sitting on his parents' couch in his living room, your legs tucked beneath you, a book resting open atop the little space remaining on your lap. Keonho was sprawled across the length of the couch, his head resting in your lap, his eyes closed. His hair was a mess—it always was—and his shirt was rumpled from a long day of doing absolutely nothing.
His parents had gone out for dinner, leaving the two of you alone in the house. It wasn't unusual, you'd spent countless evenings here, the two of you sprawled across this same couch, doing nothing and everything.
His hand was resting on your knee, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on the fabric of your jeans. His breathing was slow and even, the tension that always seemed to live in his shoulders completely gone.
"Are you asleep?" You asked quietly.
"Mmm." He didn't open his eyes. "Maybe."
"You can't sleep. You're supposed to be spending time with me."
"I am spending time with you." His lips curved into a lazy smile. "I'm lying on you. That's quality time."
"That's not how quality time works."
"Sure it is." He shifted slightly, nuzzling closer, his hair tickling your bare arm. "I'm touching you, I'm breathing your air, I'm in your presence. This is the most quality time I've had all week."
You shook your head, but you were smiling. "You're such a know it all."
"Yeah, but you love me."
"I do," you said, and the words came easier now than they used to. "Somehow."
He opened one eye, turning to peek up at you. "Somehow?"
"You're very high maintenance."
"I'm not high maintenance." He closed his eye again, nuzzling the side of his face against your thigh. "I'm just... particular."
"You're particular."
"Very particular. About you. I'm particular about you."
Your heart did that thing it always did when he said things like that—that soft flutter that had become so familiar over the past two years.
"You're also very cheesy," you said.
"Cheesy and yours." He grinned, still not opening his eyes. "That's the deal."
You went back to your book, one hand resting on his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing. His hand on your knee had stilled, his fingers loosely curled around your leg.
The house was quiet, the only sounds were the distant hum of the refrigerator and the soft rustle of pages as you turned them. The winter sun was setting outside, casting long shadows across the room, painting everything in shades of gold and amber.
It was peaceful, perfect, and so utterly Keonho and you that you couldn't imagine it any other way.
"Hey," he said, his voice soft, barely above a murmur.
"Hmm?"
"Remember how we met?"
You looked down at him. His eyes were still closed, but his smile had softened into something thoughtful.
"You mean when you tackled me when I was walking home?" You said, raising your eyebrows slightly. "And nearly killed me?"
"I didn't nearly kill you." He opened his eyes, turning and looking up at you with mock offense. "I gently collided with you. Don’t be so dramatic."
"You knocked me over and my books went flying."
"Okay, but I picked them up for you." He grinned. "That was very chivalrous of me."
"You just shoved them in my hands while apologising at a thousand miles an hour."
"I was panicking." He reached up, his fingers brushing against your cheek. "I'd just run into the prettiest girl I'd ever seen. What was I supposed to do? Stay calm?"
You felt your face warm. "You didn't think I was pretty then."
"I did." He said it simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I thought you were pretty the moment I looked up and saw you standing there. I just didn't say it because I was too busy apologising and making a fool of myself."
You blinked. "Really?"
"Really." He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering. "I went home that night and told Seonghyeon I'd met the most beautiful girl in school and I'd nearly murdered her."
You laughed, bright and surprised. "You did not."
"I did." He was grinning now. "He told me I was being dramatic, and I told him he didn't understand. I was very dramatic about it. That's just who I am."
"I know. I've noticed."
"Yeah, but you don't mind." His voice was warm. "That's why you're my favourite person."
Your heart swelled at his words, the feeling of heat creeping up your neck. "You're my favourite person too."
You felt him smile against your leg. "I love you," he said, his voice soft and sure. "I don't say it enough. But I love you."
"You say it plenty."
"I know. But I still don't say it enough." He reached up, his hand cupping your cheek. "I love you, Y/N. I love the way you read books and ignore me. I love the way you laugh when I say something stupid. I love the way you let me be quiet around you, even though I'm not good at being quiet."
"You're good at being quiet around me."
"Because you make it easy." His thumb traced your jaw. "You make everything easy. You make me feel like I don't have to perform all the time. Like I can just... be."
You leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. "You can just be," you whispered against his skin. "That's the whole point."
He closed his eyes, a soft sigh escaping his lips.
You went back to your book, and he went back to tracing patterns on your knee. The sun dipped lower, the room growing dimmer, but neither of you moved to turn on a light, existing in your own, quiet, ecosystem.
Of course, though, Keonho was still Keonho. And that meant he'd still have moments where his usual energy would come roaring back, filling whatever room he was in with noise and chaos. But even those moments—especially those moments—somehow made you love him more.
One Saturday afternoon you were curled up on his couch again, a book in your hands that he had recently gifted you. Keonho was in the kitchen, supposedly making cookies, though you'd been hearing a lot of noises: cabinet doors opening and closing, the clatter of dishes, something that sounded suspiciously like a pan being dropped on the floor.
"Are you okay in there?" You called out, glancing down the hall.
"FINE!" His voice was too loud, too cheerful. "EVERYTHING IS FINE. I AM VERY CAPABLE."
You were about to go back to your book when you heard a crash followed by a rapid string of curses that would've made your grandmother faint.
You sighed, marking your page, and made your way to the kitchen.
Keonho was standing in the middle of what looked like a war zone. Flour dusted the countertops, the floor, his shirt, and somehow even his hair. A bowl was overturned in the sink, and there was something suspiciously charred smoking in a pan on the stove.
He turned to you with a sheepish grin, his face dusted with white powder.
"Hi," he said. "I was making you cookies. It's not going well."
You looked at the chaos around him. "I can see that."
"It's okay. I have a plan." He held up a bag of pre-made cookie dough. "I was going to do it from scratch, but then things happened, so I'm pivoting."
"Things happened."
"Things happened." He gestured vaguely at the mess. "I don't know what things, they just happened."
You bit back a smile. "You set the kitchen on fire."
"It was a small fire! A contained fire! I put it out immediately!" He paused. "Okay, the fire alarm went off, but I handled it."
"How?"
"I waved a towel at it."
You couldn't help it and laughed, bright and surprised, his face lighting up like you'd just given him a gift.
"You're laughing!" He said. "At my pain. You're laughing at my suffering."
"I'm laughing at your baking," you corrected. "Never your pain."
"The baking is the cause of my pain." He grabbed the bag of cookie dough and held it up triumphantly. "But this is my redemption arc. Watch and be amazed."
He tore open the bag with more force than necessary, and a puff of flour exploded in his face, leaving him standing there frozen and blinking.
You clapped a hand over your mouth, trying not to laugh.
"Don't," he warned. "Don't you dare."
You immediately burst out laughing, bending over slightly to catch yourself.
He groaned, but he was smiling. "This is bullying. This is emotional abuse."
"You're the one who decided to bake."
"I was trying to do something nice!"
"I appreciate the effort." You walked over, brushing a smudge of flour off his cheek with your thumb as your palm cupped his jaw. "But next time, maybe just buy cookies."
"Where's the fun in that?" He leaned into your touch, his eyes soft and shining as they looked into your own. "I wanted to do something special for you."
"Keonho, you're special enough."
He dropped the bag of cookie dough and pulled you into his arms, flour and all. His chin rested on top of your head. "You're too good to me," he murmured.
"You're the one who almost burned down your kitchen."
"I would burn down a thousand kitchens for you." He paused and you could practically hear the wheels turning in his brain. "Wait, that's a terrible thing to say. I mean—"
"I know what you mean."
"You do?"
"Mmhm." You pulled back to look at him, his face still covered in flour. "You're ridiculous, but you're my ridiculous."
He grinned, wide and unguarded. "I love you."
"I know." You reached up, wiping a smear of flour from his nose. "I love you too. Even if you can't bake."
"That's offensive. I can bake. I'm an excellent baker in fact. This was just a test run."
"Of what?"
"Of my ability to make cookies." He paused. "I failed, but I'll get there, just give me time. Rome wasn't built in a day."
"Rome didn't have you."
"Exactly. So imagine what I can do."
The sun had fully set by the time you moved to your natural positions on the sofa, the room dark except for the soft glow of the streetlight outside.
"Hey," you said softly.
"Mm?"
"I'm glad you tackled me on my walk home."
He laughed, quiet and warm. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." You leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. "I wouldn't change a thing."
He reached up, his hand cupping your cheek, and pulled you down for a proper kiss. You both melted into it, the pure feeling of love swelling so deeply in your chest you couldn’t focus on anything but him. It was soft and slow and full of everything he couldn't say.
When you pulled back, he was smiling.
"Me neither," he said. "Not a single thing."
On paper, you and Keonho made absolutely no sense.
You were polar opposites. A quiet girl who disappeared into the background and a boy who lit up every room he walked into.
But none of that mattered because somewhere along the way, you'd realised that opposites didn't have to clash. Sometimes, they just fit perfectly and effortlessly.
He was the sun, bright and uncontainable, and you were the moon, steady and still, and you'd learned that the sky was big enough for both. That the most beautiful moments happened when the sun and moon shared the horizon—when the world was painted in shades of gold and silver, light and shadow dancing together in perfect harmony. The sunset wasn't beautiful despite the coexistence of day and night, it was beautiful because of it.
The sun didn't dim for the moon and the moon didn't fade for the sun, they simply existed together, each making the other more breathtaking.
