Synopsys: When Jeongin comes home from a long day, he doesn’t expect to find a rooftop transformed into a glowing nest of fairy lights, pizza, and love. With nothing but the stars above and each other below, the night becomes one you’ll never forget
The rooftop was magic.
It wasn’t extravagant or Pinterest-perfect, but it felt like something out of a dream. A quiet little world you’d built just for the two of you.
You’d spent the last hour fussing over every single detail, more than once rearranging the same blanket pile before undoing and redoing it again. The fairy lights you’d strung up twinkled softly now, their warm yellow glow casting gentle shadows against the makeshift canopy of cushions and throws. A few strands blinked a little too enthusiastically, no matter how many times you tried to adjust them, but somehow… It worked.
There were mismatched bowls filled with snacks like popcorn, chocolate-covered almonds, sour gummies, and those honey-dipped pretzels Jeongin always devoured like a squirrel hoarding food for winter. Two paper plates sat on a wooden tray beside a large pizza box, still warm. And next to that, two oversized mugs of hot chocolate that were practically overflowing with mini marshmallows, the kind that slowly melted into sweet clouds.
A single candle flickered beside it all, not for light but for vibe. Low, golden, and soft enough to make your heart flutter.
It was casual, but not. Chill, but not.
This was something you'd imagined a dozen times. Lying under the stars with him, no real plan except being close. You’d just never thought you'd actually do it. But tonight, something inside you had whispered, why not?
And now it was real.
You checked everything one last time, brushing invisible lint from the blanket, turning the candle a few degrees, fluffing one last pillow. Then you gave yourself a tiny, ridiculous fist pump and padded downstairs to wait for him.
You sat on the couch and tried to act normal with your phone in hand, scrolling through nonsense, but not reading a word. Your fingers were jittery, your heartbeat quick. Every sound outside made you perk up. And when the door finally opened, your head snapped up so fast you almost dropped your phone.
“Jeongin!” you called out, a little too fast, jumping to your feet before he could even step inside fully.
He stepped in with a gust of autumn air behind him, cheeks rosy from the cold, wind-tousled hair falling into his eyes, the strap of his bag sliding off his shoulder in that loose, careless way he always wore it. He froze in the entryway for a beat, blinking at you, and then broke into a wide grin.
That grin. The one that took over his whole face, made his eyes crinkle and his dimples show. The kind of smile that made your knees feel like they forgot how to work.
“Why do you look like you’re about to pull a rabbit out of a hat?” he teased, cocking an eyebrow and kicking off his shoes.
You didn’t answer. You just crossed the room and wrapped your arms around his neck, rising up on your toes as you kissed him. His hair smelled faintly like baby powder. A soft and familiar smell as it tickled your cheek when he leaned down.
He kissed you back slowly, his hands finding your waist with practiced ease, drawing you in as if you hadn’t seen each other in days instead of hours. His touch was warm, anchoring. Steady in a way your nerves weren’t.
When you pulled away, just enough to meet his eyes, his smile lingered. “Not that I’m complaining,” he murmured, brushing his nose against yours, “but what’s going on? Did I miss an anniversary or something?”
Your stomach flipped… again. “Nope,” you said, trying to keep your voice light despite the flutter in your chest. “But... I have a surprise for you.”
“A surprise?” His brows lifted, lips twitching.
You nodded, reaching down to take his hand. “You just have to trust me.”
He let you pull him toward the stairs, his fingers sliding easily into yours, warm and familiar and just the right amount of grounding.
“Wait…is it food?” he asked, squeezing your hand playfully. “Because I can smell pizza and now I’m emotionally invested.”
You didn’t answer, just kept walking. You could feel his smile behind you even without turning around.
“…WAIT, are we eloping?” he added dramatically. “Because I really think I should’ve worn something nicer if we’re going to get married on the roof.”
You turned and shot him a look over your shoulder. “Shut up and go with it.”
He laughed. That hearty gaspy laugh he always did when he knew he was getting under your skin on purpose. But his grip didn’t loosen. If anything, he tugged you a little closer, his thumb brushing across your knuckles like he couldn’t help it.
As you reached the rooftop door, you paused for a moment, the nerves fluttering back in your chest. But when you looked back at him, he was already watching you. His eyes warm, smile wide, like you’d just given him the world and he didn’t even know what was coming next.
“You’re smiling like an idiot,” you muttered.
He shrugged. “Can’t help it. You look like a rom-com lead about to change my life.”
You rolled your eyes. “Stupid.”
“You like it.”
You did.
You really, really did.
And as you opened the door, your heart skipped again, though not because you were nervous about what he’d think, but because you already knew this was going to be one of those nights. The kind you’d replay over and over again for years.
The rooftop door creaked open as you pushed it gently, the cold air brushing against your skin in a hush of anticipation. You stepped aside, heart fluttering in your chest like it hadn’t quite decided whether to be excited or terrified, and nodded for him to go first.
Jeongin gave your hand one last curious squeeze before stepping out into the quiet night.
He didn’t say anything at first.
His footsteps slowed the second he crossed the threshold. His hand stayed wrapped around yours, like he needed that anchor as his gaze swept across the space.
The fairy lights glowed softly, casting warm golden halos over everything they touched. Their reflections danced faintly in his dark eyes as he took in the blanket nest you had made, layered and crumpled like something out of a sleepy daydream. The pillows you had fluffed and re-fluffed now looked perfectly, effortlessly undone. The flickering candlelight spilled across the snacks and pizza, the steam still rising faintly from the mugs of hot chocolate nearby. Over all of it, the night sky stretched wide and impossibly deep, stars scattered across the navy expanse like glitter someone had thrown from heaven.
The music you had queued up drifted in softly from your speaker, humming just beneath the stillness. It was mellow and slow, the kind of sound that tugged at the heart even when no one was speaking.
You stood a little behind him, watching his face more than the scene. Noticing the way his eyebrows twitched just slightly as his eyes moved from the lights to the food to the soft, glowy mess of everything. How his lips parted, like he meant to say something but forgot how words worked.
His grip on your hand tightened slightly.
And then he turned to look at you, really look at you, and his whole expression softened like something inside him had melted.
“Wait…” he said quietly, his voice just above a whisper. “Did you… did you do all this yourself?”
You ducked your head a little, suddenly aware of every breath, every sound. You felt his eyes on you like sunlight through a window, warm, gentle, and a little overwhelming.
“Yeah…” you murmured, glancing toward the lights, then back at him. “Do you… like it?”
There was a beat where he didn’t answer. His eyes stayed on you, unreadable at first. You wondered if you’d done too much, or not enough, or if it was weird, or if you should have gone with your original idea of just baking cookies and calling it a night.
But then that look appeared.
That look that only he gave you.
His smile bloomed slowly, tugging at one corner of his mouth before spreading into something wide and dazzling, all dimples and crinkled eyes and a kind of quiet wonder.
“I don’t like it,” he said, his voice steady and warm. “I love it.”
And just like that, your heart turned into soft butter. Everything in you let go at once. The nerves, the overthinking, the little panicked voices that had whispered maybe this was too much was now gone.
Because now he was smiling like you’d hung the stars yourself.
Without hesitation, he dropped his bag beside the pillow pile and turned back to you, eyes still bright. “You’re kind of unbelievable, you know that?”
You tried to shrug casually, but your smile gave you away. “It only took me, like… five Pinterest boards.”
He laughed, the sound low and boyish, and pulled you in by the hand, wrapping his arms around your waist with easy affection. “Worth every pin.”
You felt yourself exhale, and not because you were tired, but because there was something so indescribably peaceful about this moment. Like you had done something bold and brave and he had met it with nothing but love.
Just the two of you.
Under the stars.
No plan but each other.
“Come here,” Jeongin said, already flopping back into the blanket nest with a dramatic sigh like he was starring in his own indie film. “I need warmth. And snacks. And love. In that exact order.”
You laughed, the sound carried off a little by the breeze as you carefully stepped over a bowl of chips and dropped down beside him.
“You’re so needy.”
“Mmhm,” he hummed, eyes closed like he was absolutely spent from the trials of his day. Then, without warning, he reached out and tugged you closer by the arm, until you were tucked firmly against his side, your head brushing against his shoulder. “You built a literal fairyland on a rooftop. You can’t just not cuddle me. That’s emotional sabotage.”
You rolled your eyes. “You’re such a drama queen.”
“And yet,” he said with a smug grin, reaching into the snack bowl and dramatically selecting a gummy bear, “you’re still very clearly obsessed with me.” Then, with the confidence of someone who had done this before, he pressed the gummy bear to your lips.
You took the gummy into your mouth, chewing slowly, trying not to smile (and failing). Jeongin turned his attention to the snack spread like it was a battlefield to conquer, eyes scanning over the selection like a seasoned professional.
“Okay, let’s see. Popcorn. Cookies. Chips. Gummy bears. Are those honey pretzels? You are spoiling me.” Then his eyes caught something behind the candlelight. He gasped. Actually gasped. “Wait. Is that pizza?”
You smirked. “Obviously. I know where your loyalty lies.”
He turned toward you with mock awe, hands clasped together like he was about to cry. “You really do love me.”
“I literally built you a rooftop picnic under the stars. The pizza is just bonus points.”
He reached for the box with the reverence of someone unearthing ancient treasure. His face lit up as he opened it. “Oh my god, it’s the good kind. The cheesy one with the weird crust I love.”
“Of course it is,” you said, your voice soft but smug.
He pulled out a slice and held it up like a prized possession. “You know I could eat this entire slice in one bite.”
You blinked. “That’s not something to brag about.”
“Don’t believe me?” He raised an eyebrow, mischief radiating off him like heat from the pizza itself.
“Jeongin.”
“Watch me,” he said, folding the slice slightly in his hands like he was preparing a sacred ritual.
“Jeongin, no.”
“Yes.”
“Jeongin, seriously, no-”
But it was too late. With a devilish grin, he shoved the entire slice into his mouth in one go, somehow managing to bite it down with zero hesitation and maximum confidence. He chewed slowly and dramatically, eyebrows raised like he’d just won a gold medal in Olympic pizza consumption.
You smacked his arm, still breathless from laughing. “You are so gross.”
“Gross?” he gasped, feigning genuine offense like you’d just insulted his entire lineage. “Excuse me, that was a survival technique. I grew up with two brothers, remember? If you didn’t eat fast, you didn’t eat at all. It was war.”
“Oh no,” you said, hand flying to your chest in exaggerated concern. “Pizza trauma. The worst kind.”
He nodded solemnly. “I once reached for my last dumpling, my last dumpling, and it was already gone.”
You blinked. “No...”
He held up a hand, eyes dramatic and haunted. “Swear. My older brother didn’t even blink. Just stared me dead in the eyes while he chewed it. Didn’t break eye contact. That moment changed me.”
You gasped like he’d just revealed a deep, painful family secret. “A dumpling thief in your own home?”
“Gone,” he whispered, looking to the heavens like he was still grieving it. “Just vanished. I can still feel the betrayal.”
You giggled, resting your chin on his shoulder, the material of his hoodie soft under your skin. “Well, lucky for you, you don’t have to fight for food anymore. I made you a literal rooftop buffet. All for you.”
“And yet,” he said, turning to you with the gleam of mischief in his eye, “the only thing I want to devour is-”
“Jeongin,” you warned.
“...your heart,” he finished innocently, pressing a hand to his chest like a knight pledging his love.
You gave him a sharp look before grabbing a gummy bear and flicking it at his face.
Without missing a beat, he caught it in his mouth like some kind of pet, then threw his hands in the air in victory. “Talent.”
You rolled your eyes but flopped beside him, letting your shoulder press against his, your knee brushing his. The laughter faded into a soft, comfortable quiet, the kind that only happens when the silence feels safe.
It was warm under the blankets, but it was a different kind of warmth. It was one that came from being next to him. From feeling the steady rhythm of his breathing. From the slight weight of his pinky hooking around yours. The lights of the city glittered far below, distant and dreamy, while the stars above looked close enough to touch.
You tilted your head and watched him for a moment, the way the fairy lights caught in the soft strands of his hair, the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the way his lips were parted just slightly like he was still catching his breath from laughing.
“Y’know,” he said, his voice a little quieter now, a little slower, “this is gonna be one of those core memory nights.”
You turned your head toward him, still smiling. “Oh yeah?”
He nodded, eyes on the sky like he was trying to memorize the exact shade of it. “It’s just… you. And this. It’s honestly perfect.”
Your heart flipped in your chest, soft and full. You didn’t say anything right away though, you just let yourself take all of him in. The curve of his nose. The line of his jaw. The way his thumb gently stroked over your hand without even thinking.
“I’ve had a lot of loud days lately,” he said after a pause, his voice thoughtful now. “Schedules. Noise. Rehearsals. Managers yelling. Hyunjin hyung eating all the snacks before anyone else even sees them…”
You let out a quiet snort.
He glanced at you, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “But this? Just being up here with you? It’s like… I don’t know. Everything stops for a second.”
You turned fully to face him now, your cheek brushing against his shoulder. “You’re being soft.”
“I know,” he groaned, covering his face with one hand. “I’m gonna sound so cheesy.”
“You literally unhinged your jaw for a slice of pizza ten minutes ago. I think the line’s already been crossed.”
He peeked at you through his fingers and laughed, his voice low and warm. “Okay, okay. Then I’m saying it.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Saying what?”
“I love you,” he said, and this time there was no hesitation, no cheeky tone, just softness and certainty. “Like… a lot.”
Your breath caught, but in the best way. Like the world had narrowed to just this moment. The lights, the sky, the boy beside you.
“Yeah?” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Yeah,” he replied, tugging gently at the sleeve of your sweater, eyes locking with yours. “You’re the best part of my day. Even when you bully me for eating pizza like a menace.”
You leaned in, your noses brushing, lips close enough to feel the warmth of his breath. “I love you too, Pizza Goblin.”
He made a wounded noise. “Wow. So romantic.”
But he was smiling so big now, so bright and beautiful, and a little shy around the edges. His cheeks were pink from the cold or maybe from your words. And in that moment, you were absolutely sure, this was the happiest you’d ever seen him.
And maybe the happiest you’d ever been too.
As he looked at you, his hands came up to cup your face. His fingers were warm as they brushed against your cheek, gentle and steady, like he was memorizing the shape of your face. His touch didn’t rush or demand, it simply asked, quietly, if this was okay. His eyes flicked between yours, wide and searching, like he was trying to read your mind or make sure this wasn’t some dream he’d accidentally wandered into.
There was a beat, a breath, where everything paused.
And then, slowly, like he didn’t want to miss a single second of it, he leaned in.
His lips ghosted over yours, a whisper of contact, so soft it almost didn’t count, almost. It was a question more than a kiss, a quiet, are you with me? spoken without words. His breath mingled with yours, warm and a little shaky, and you could feel the way his fingertips curled slightly at your jaw, like he was grounding himself.
You didn’t hesitate.
You leaned into him, your lips pressing back, answering that silent question with a yes that bloomed between you like light. And just like that, the world faded, it all blurred into background noise. All you felt was him.
His kiss deepened, slow and purposeful, like he wanted to make this moment last forever. His hand cradled your face with such care it made your heart ache, while his other arm slid around your waist and tugged you flush against him. Your body curved instinctively toward his, fitting together like puzzle pieces that had always belonged.
And when he finally pulled back, he didn’t go far. His forehead rested against yours, the tips of your noses brushing, breaths coming in tandem like you’d synced without even trying. His chest rose and fell quickly, and you could feel the beat of his heart through his clothes. It was fast and wild, but steady.
You stayed there in the hush between heartbeats, in the quiet intimacy of knowing someone down to their soul. His hand slid up to the nape of your neck, fingers threading into your hair, while his thumb grazed your cheekbone in slow, tender strokes. His gaze was fixed on you, soft and reverent, like he was still trying to believe you were real.
“I love you,” he said, barely more than a breath, but it was the kind of sentence that hit like a wave. There was no teasing in it. No playful undertone. Just truth. “You have no idea how much you mean to me.”
You opened your mouth to speak, but he kept going, the words spilling out like he couldn’t hold them in anymore.
“I…” He paused, blinking quickly like he was searching for the exact words, like anything less than perfect wouldn’t be enough. “I could never love anyone the way I love you. Not even close. You’re everything. And I didn’t know love could feel like this… like my chest is too full, like I’m going to explode if I don’t tell you. It’s like… you’re my home.”
Your breath caught.
Because no one had ever said something like that to you, definetly not like that. Not with their whole heart in every syllable.
You reached up, your hands cupping his face, your thumbs brushing the soft curve of his cheekbones. His skin was warm beneath your touch, his lashes fluttering slightly as he leaned into your palms like he never wanted you to let go.
“I love you too,” you whispered, your voice thick with feeling. “More than I ever thought I could. More than I knew I could.”
His smile bloomed slowly, no smirk, no mischief, instead just something tender, something grateful. He looked like someone who’d finally found what he’d been searching for. Like maybe that something had been you all along.
He pressed a kiss to your forehead, soft and sure, then one to your nose that made you smile. And finally, his lips brushed yours again, this time even softer than the first, like a promise.
Then he stayed there, his head resting gently against yours, arms wrapped around you like he had no intention of letting go. And you didn’t want him to.
Not now. Not ever.
The air around you seemed to hum with something more. Not just love, not just comfort. Something unspoken but understood, something that wrapped itself around both of you like the blankets, like the stars, like fate.
Because in that quiet, glowing space between the rooftop and the sky, it wasn’t just a kiss. It wasn’t just a night.It was the beginning of everything.
aurkayyyy i struggled w this. I cant even lie LMAO. when I got the idea for this story i knew that I wanted it to be Jeongin but it was actually so hard for me to make it sound like him and stuff 😭 and when I did include stuff abt him it just felt so like cliche to him like the baby power or the pizza but oh well 😛 also not proofread so if u find any mistakes pls let me know!!!
Honestly, im not sure 😭 I have thought about it quite a bit but I genuinely don't know how to do it I don't think its possible for them to make up or anything since yn is already gone, so if I was to do a part two it would have to be like a prequel or something BUT IDKKKK. If you guys want a part 2 and have any ideas for it pls lmk and ill definitely take them into consideration if I do make a part two!
Synopsis: After a fight that left the air between you thick with silence, Minho returns, not with answers, but with open hands and a heart still learning how to stay.
The apartment was quiet, too quiet, except for the sharp clatter of silverware being shoved into drawers with a little too much force. The clink of metal against metal echoed like tension manifesting physically. Your back was to the kitchen entryway, shoulders rigid as you jammed a spoon into the wrong slot, then yanked it out to fix it with a huff.
Minho strolled in, leaning against the kitchen countertop with the same grin he always wore like armour. “You know, for someone so particular about where the forks go, you're being awfully violent with them.”
You didn’t respond.
Minho tilted his head, still grinning. “Everything okay? Or did the forks insult your family?”
You closed the drawer a little too hard, turned, and gave him a look. “Do you ever stop joking?”
He blinked, then raised an eyebrow. “Uh… usually when things stop being absurd. So, never?”
You crossed your arms. “Right. Of course. Because that’s your answer to everything, isn’t it? Just crack a joke, dodge the real stuff.”
Minho straightened slightly. “Whoa, what is this?”
“It’s me being tired, Minho,” you snapped. “Tired of talking to someone who clearly doesn’t give a damn unless it’s entertaining.”
His grin dropped. “That’s not fair.”
“No, what’s not fair is being in a relationship with someone who acts like none of it matters. Like I don’t matter.”
Minho stepped forward, jaw tensing. “Okay, that’s not what I’m doing-”
“But it is! You laugh when I’m upset. You make light of everything. And when I try to bring up something serious, you change the subject or make a joke so I end up feeling like an idiot for even trying.”
“I’m not trying to make you feel like an idiot!” he barked. “God, y/n, maybe I’m just trying not to make everything a damn crisis.”
“And maybe you’d rather hide behind jokes than actually admit you feel anything!” you shouted, eyes blazing. “Because that would mean you’d have to actually show up and be vulnerable for once in your life!”
His mouth opened, then snapped shut, and for a second, you thought he might back down. But instead, he scoffed, shaking his head like he was disgusted.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said bitterly. “I didn’t realize this relationship was some kind of emotional interrogation. You don’t like how I talk? Fine. Maybe I don’t like how you turn everything into a goddamn meltdown the second it’s not going your way!”
“You are so full of it!” you shouted. “You twist everything around so I look like the bad guy, like I’m too sensitive or too serious-”
“Because you are!” he yelled, stepping in close. “You act like everything I do is some personal attack when all I’m trying to do is keep us from going completely off the rails!”
You two were inches apart now, shouting over each other, breath sharp and furious, hands clenched at your sides. The apartment felt too small, the air too thick, the distance between you both nonexistent and yet impossibly vast.
“God, Minho, you don’t even see me—”
“And you don’t hear me! All you ever do is come for me!”
You stood there, chest to chest, the heat between you boiling hot and freezing cold all at once.
“I come at you like that because you never fight for me!” You shouted, voice shaking. “You just make jokes until I’m too tired to care anymore!”
Minho stared at you, breathing hard, eyes dark with frustration. “Maybe I don’t fight because I’m tired of being treated like I’m never fucking enough.”
You froze. “What?”
He stepped forward, voice rising. “Yeah, Y/n! I'm tired of being the punching bag every time you decide I’m not fucking good enough! Tired of pretending I don’t see that look on your face when I don’t say the perfect thing. You want me raw? Fine! Sometimes I wish you'd just shut the hell up and stop trying to fix me like I’m some broken fucking project you picked up to feel good about yourself!”
Your breath hitched, face crumpling, but Minho kept going. “Sometimes it feels like loving you is just waiting to get punished for it! You act like you’re some goddamn saint for sticking around, but all you do is hover and judge and fucking nag until I can't even hear myself think. You don’t want to understand me. You just want to fix me so you don’t have to deal with your own pathetic shit!”
The slap cracked through the room like lightning.
Minho’s head whipped to the side, the sting instant and unmistakable. He froze, stunned, one hand slowly lifting to his cheek. You were already backing away, shaking, tears running freely, your voice gutted and trembling. “Go to hell, Minho.”
You then turned and bolted down the hallway, each step louder than the last, before the bedroom door shook its frame. Minho stood there, motionless, jaw tight, the echo of your hand still ringing in the air.
You had slammed the bedroom door, but it didn’t make you feel better. Nothing did. Not the sound, not the distance, not the silence that swallowed everything after. Your hands were shaking. You stared at them like they didn’t belong to you, like maybe they belonged to someone stronger. The tears wouldn’t stop. They spilled hot and fast as you slid down the door, chest heaving like you couldn’t breathe right.
“Pathetic?” you whispered, voice hoarse. “Fucking pathetic?” You had given him everything. You tried. Every day, you tried. You listened, you waited, you stayed even when he pushed, even when he shut down. You stayed through the silence, through the sarcasm, through the ache of being with someone who couldn’t, or wouldn’t, let you in.
And still… still it wasn’t enough.
You buried your face in your hands and sobbed harder.
Minho hadn’t moved. The sting on his cheek barely registered anymore. The room was dead quiet, but his head was loud, words crashing around like debris. That look on your face. The sound of the slap. Your voice when you said it “Go to hell.”
He swallowed hard, throat dry. “Fuck…”
He hadn’t meant it. Or maybe he had. That was the worst part, he wasn’t sure. He’d been angry, cornered, and every word that flew out of his mouth was meant to wound. And god, had he succeeded.
His hands were still clenched at his sides, white-knuckled. He stared at the floor like it might give him answers, like it might undo what just happened if he stood still long enough.
You had never hit him before. You weren't like that. And he’d never pushed you that far. Until now.
Minho let out a breath, low and shaky, and leaned back against the counter like his knees might give out. You don’t come back from that kind of look, he thought. Not easily. Not without bleeding for it.
It had been hours. The kind of hours that dragged. No TV. No phone. Just the faint tick of the wall clock and the ache behind your dry eyes from crying too long.
The blanket had slipped down your shoulder, but you didn’t move. Your body felt heavy, like it had absorbed every word, every second of that fight and didn’t know how to carry any more.
Outside the window, the streetlights buzzed, casting pale shadows on the wall. It must’ve been close to 3 a.m. You hadn’t heard him. No footsteps, not a knock, not even the distant creak of floorboards. Maybe he’d gone to sleep. Maybe he’d left. Maybe he didn’t care.
Your heart burned again. You hated that you were still listening for him.
Minho sat in the hallway, the light from his phone long gone, screen black in his hand. He didn’t know what time it was anymore. His back ached from the floor. His legs had gone numb. But he hadn’t moved, not since he’d sat down outside your door an hour ago.
He thought you might come out. Maybe yell again. Maybe just glare at him like you wanted to set him on fire. He deserved that. But you hadn’t made a sound. No crying. No pacing. No nothing. That scared him more than anything.
He rested his head back against the wall and shut his eyes, just for a second.
And whispered into the dark, barely audible even to himself, “Fuck… what did I do?”
The morning light came in soft and grey, filtered through thin curtains and heavy clouds. It crept down the hallway, brushing against the hardwood like it didn’t want to wake the house. Minho woke to the soft morning light and the dull ache in his spine from sleeping against a wall. His mouth was dry. His legs stiff. But he didn’t move.
The door beside him was still shut. He looked at it as if he was waiting for it to breathe. He didn’t knock. Didn’t speak. He just sat there, back against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, head leaned gently to the side, listening for any sound from the other side.
Nothing.
The minutes crawled by. Then the hours. The world outside had started moving. Cars in the street, a dog barking down the road, someone slamming a dumpster lid, but here, everything stayed still. Closed.
Minho rubbed his eyes with the palm of his hands. His stomach growled. His brain throbbed under the weight of everything he’d said the night before.
“Sometimes it feels like loving you is just waiting to get punished for it.” He winced at the memory. He could still feel the sting of your palm on his face, the sharpness of your gasp when it landed. He’d deserved that. More, probably. But he didn’t leave. Even when his legs went numb again. Even when his throat begged for water and his body told him to get up, to shower, to move on.
He waited.
Because somewhere on the other side of that door, You were still there. And he didn’t want to miss the moment you weren't angry anymore, just hurt. The moment you might be willing to hear him, even if it wasn’t with words.
Minho sat there for what felt like forever. When he finally heard you stir, a faint rustle of sheets, the soft creak of floorboards, his breath caught.
You were awake.
So he waited… And waited… And waited…
Nothing.
The lock didn’t turn. The door didn’t move. You knew he was out here. And you were choosing to keep him out. Minho's stomach twisted. He stood slowly, limbs aching from staying curled up so long. His body felt like it belonged to someone else. Tight, wrong, heavy. He hovered for a second longer by the door, listening… hoping. Still nothing. So he turned away.
In the bathroom, the mirror was brutal. He looked like hell. Red-rimmed eyes. A fading handprint on his cheek. His shirt fully wrinkled from sleeping in it. He turned the shower on way too hot and stepped in before it could cool down, hoping the scald might burn the tension out of his shoulders. It didn’t.
He tried brushing his teeth. Couldn’t focus.
Tried making coffee. Left it untouched on the counter.
Tried scrolling his phone. Couldn’t even unlock it.
Every sound from down the hall made his head snap up. Every creak of the floor, every breeze against the door, Minho imagined it was you. Coming out. Saying something. Nothing. Until…
Click.
The unmistakable sound of the bedroom door unlocking. It was soft. Hesitant. But it rang through the apartment like a fire alarm. He froze. Then bolted. His feet hit the floor fast, slipping as he rounded the corner. The door was slightly ajar now. He didn’t even hesitate. He ran to it like you might change your mind and close it again.
When he reached the door, he didn’t hesitate this time. His hand hovered for only a second before he pushed it open. The room was dim. Curtains still drawn. The air heavy, thick with last night’s ghosts. A sheet draped over the lamp cast everything in a soft, amber hush, like the whole space was holding its breath.
And there you were. Sitting on the edge of the bed. Wrapped in the same blanket, legs folded under you, hands clutching the fabric like an anchor. Your face was blank. Too blank. Like the tears had already run their course, and now you were just... waiting. Not for him. Not exactly. Just for what he would do next.
Minho froze in the doorway, one hand still clutching the knob like it might hold him up.
His throat tightened painfully, working around something sharp. “Hey.”
You didn't move. Didn't flinch. Didn't even blink.
He stepped inside like the ground might shatter under his feet. The door clicked shut behind him, soft but final. Still, silence. It stretched between you like a wire, pulled taut, humming with everything he hadn’t said.
He raked a trembling hand through his hair. “I didn’t sleep.” You said nothing.
“I sat outside your door all night.” He swallowed. “I know that doesn’t fix anything. I just… I didn’t know where else to go. I didn’t want to go anywhere else.”
Still no reaction. Your eyes on him, unreadable. He exhaled, shaky, words spilling from somewhere raw. “I said things I didn’t mean. And some of it- okay, yeah -some of it came from a place I don’t understand yet. I panicked. I got scared. But that doesn’t excuse any of it. Not with you...” He paused, breath catching.
“I was cruel. I twisted things. I made you feel small, and I hate that. I hate that I did that to you.”
You still didn’t speak. But something in your stare tightened, just slightly.
Minho’s voice cracked at the edges. “That’s not who I am. At least… I don’t want it to be. Especially not with you.”
Nothing. No words. No movement. Nothing from you. He stood there, hands clenched at his sides like he didn’t trust himself with them.
“You didn’t deserve any of it,” he whispered. “You never do.” He took a hesitant step forward. Like the space between you was holy ground he didn’t have the right to walk on.
“I’m not asking for forgiveness. I’m not even hoping for it. I just… I needed you to hear me. Even if you never say anything back.” The silence roared in his ears. Deafening.
“I’ll go if you want me to,” he added quietly. “If that’s what you need… I’ll leave.”
Still nothing. He nodded slowly, eyes burning. Already starting to turn.
Then you blinked. Once. And your voice, soft, broken, a thread unraveling, sliced through the quiet: “Why do you always do that?”
He stopped cold. Confusion flickering through the pain on his face. You stared at him, still blank, still wrapped in your silence, but your voice sharpened, a blade in the dark.
“Act like it’s your job to leave. Like you’re halfway out the door the second it gets hard.”
He looked at you like you’d just reached in and found the one part of him he couldn’t hide.
And you let the words hang there, daring him to deny it, daring him to prove them wrong.
Minho didn’t answer right away. The question settled over him like a weight he couldn’t shake.
“Why do you always do that?”
He stood frozen in the middle of the room, your words echoing louder than anything he’d said.
“Like it’s your job to leave.”“Like you’re halfway out the door the second it gets hard.”
He looked down, jaw clenched, chest rising and falling too fast. Because you were right. And there was no excuse he could give that wouldn’t sound like another exit strategy. His voice, when it came, was barely more than a breath. “Because it’s easier than being told to.”
Silence again. Not cruel, just... there. Solid. Unforgiving.
“I don’t know how to stay when I feel like I’ve already messed it up,” he said, softer now. “So I assume I’m not wanted. I tell myself it’s better if I leave before you ask me to.” He stepped closer. One foot, then the other, like the space between you was a chasm he was finally willing to cross. “But I want to stay. God y/n, I want to stay.”
Still, you didn’t move. You didn’t open up. You let him come closer, but not in. Not yet. He knelt in front of you, hands trembling slightly where they hovered near your knees but didn’t touch. His eyes searched your face, raw, pleading, full of unshed apologies. “I don’t want to be that person anymore. The one who runs. Who lashes out. Who breaks things and then calls it inevitable.”
You blinked again, but your expression still didn't soften.
“I know I don’t get to ask you for anything,” he whispered. “But I just… I’m here. I’m still here.”
Your hands clenched tighter around the blanket. You didn’t pull away. But you didn’t reach for him either. So he stayed there, kneeling next to you, his voice nearly gone.
“I’m sorry.”
The silence pressed in again, heavier now. Like a wall he couldn’t climb. Minho stayed there on his knees, eyes locked on yours, waiting for something, anything, and getting nothing. And that was what finally broke him.
His face crumpled. Not dramatic, not loud, just sudden and quiet and helpless. Like something inside him had finally snapped under the weight of everything he hadn’t said soon enough. His shoulders shook as the first sob slipped out, rough and involuntary. He dragged a hand across his face like he could hide it, like he could hold himself together for a little longer, but he couldn’t.
“I know,” he choked. “I know you don’t owe me anything. I know that.” More tears followed, harder now. His voice cracked under the pressure of it all. “You don’t have to say anything. I hurt you. I get it. I don’t get to ask you for comfort just because I’m falling apart now.”
He laughed, not because it was funny, but because it hurt too much not to. “I mean, look at me. Crying like this. Like I’m the one who needs saving.”
And for the first time, your expression shifted, just slightly.
Your eyes widened.
Your face softened.
You’d never seen him like this. Not Minho. Not the boy who always had something to say, always held his ground, always knew when to leave before the storm hit.
But now he was in the middle of it.
And he wasn’t running.
He ran both hands down his face, like he could scrub the guilt off his skin. His breath hitched. “I just, I don’t know what to do,” he said. “I don’t know how to fix this. I’d do anything. But maybe there’s nothing left to do. Maybe I ruined it. Maybe I ruined you.” His words tumbled out, messy and fast, cracked wide open.
He could barely get the words out through his sobs. “I should’ve known better. I should’ve been better. I wanted to be better. But I keep screwing it up, and you keep sitting there like I don’t even deserve your anger anymore, like you’re just… done. And I don’t blame you.”
He leaned forward a little, head bowed, forehead nearly brushing your knee. His voice dropped to a whisper, barely a thread:
“I’m sorry.”
Minho stayed there, trembling, his breath stuttering against the weight of everything he couldn’t take back. He didn’t look up. More like he couldn’t look up. He just kept crying, not loud, not pleading, just breaking in real time. A quiet, exhausted kind of grief that had no drama left in it. Only truth.
You watched him.
And something in you pulled tight. Not in anger this time. Not even fear.
Just… ache.
Because you’d never seen him like this.Not exposed like this. Not small. He’d always been sharp edges and quick exits, not this quiet wreck of a person, folded in on himself like he was afraid he’d disappear.
You didn’t move at first. Didn’t trust the part of you that wanted to, but your hand, without permission, twitched slightly, still tangled in the blanket. And then, slowly… carefully… it lifted. You didn’t say a word. Didn’t reach to pull him up. Didn’t forgive him. But you let your fingers settle gently into his hair. Barely there. Just enough for him to feel it. A touch. A tether. A whisper of something that hadn’t completely died.
Minho froze.
Then crumpled harder, shoulders shaking as he pressed his forehead to your knee like he couldn’t bear it, like that one, small mercy hurt more than anything else. Because it meant you hadn’t turned away. Not fully. Not yet. And that alone was enough to make him fall apart all over again.
You didn’t mean to speak. You hadn’t planned on it. But the words slipped out anyway, quiet and sharp, rough at the edges. “...What are you gonna do if I say I don’t know how to let you back in?”
Minho stilled.
Slowly, he lifted his head, tear-streaked and red-eyed, like he wasn’t sure he’d heard you right. But he had. Your hand dropped from his hair before he could lean into it, like you were punishing yourself for the comfort you’d given him. Like you couldn’t trust what your body wanted anymore.
You stared at him, your voice trembling, but steady enough to hurt.
“Because I don’t. I don’t know how.”
He opened his mouth to answer, but you kept going, not loud, not cold, just… aching.
“I want to. Minho, I want to so bad I feel sick. But I’m scared. I’m angry. At you, at myself. For still caring. For hoping. For letting you sit out there all night like that instead of making you leave.” You swallowed hard, breath shaky.
“I hate that it still matters. That you still matter. After everything you said.”
Minho didn’t interrupt. He didn’t dare. You looked down at your hands, fists twisting in the blanket again like they needed something to hold or destroy.
“I didn’t sleep either,” you said, quieter now. “I just kept thinking about whether you'd actually come in. And what I’d do if you did.”
A pause.
Then, softer still, “I don’t know if I can trust you not to run again. And I don’t know if I can take being wrong about you twice.”
Minho looked up at you like you’d just cracked open the center of the earth. And he didn’t move. Didn’t rush to close the gap. Didn’t beg. He just sat there. His breath still uneven from crying, but he listened. Like maybe this time, he’d finally learned how. Then, finally, quietly, he spoke. “I don’t know how to fix this.”
His voice cracked around the words, like even saying them cost him something. “I don’t have some perfect answer. I don’t know what to say that’ll make you trust me again. I don’t even know if you should.” He looked up at you, and for once, there was no defense in his eyes. No mask. Just Minho, raw and wrecked and trying.
“But if there’s a way to fix it… I’ll find it. I’ll try. Every day. Even if you never look at me the same. Even if all I can do is sit outside your door again.” He reached out, slowly, and opened his hand between you. Not grabbing. Not demanding. Just offering.
You stared at it for a second. Then slipped your fingers into his. You felt his breath hitch, although just barely. When he leaned in, it wasn’t confident. It wasn’t smooth. It was careful. Soft.
He gave you all the room to turn away, but you didn’t. How could you? How could you when he looked at you like you were the last thing in the world that still made sense? Like he didn’t deserve to be this close, but couldn’t stay away any longer. How could you when some desperate, stubborn part of you still wanted to believe him, even now, even after everything? How could you when every centimetre of space between you was already breaking your heart? How could you when he touched you like a question he didn’t expect to be answered? How could you when you still remembered what it felt like to be safe in his arms?
He kissed you like he didn’t know if he had the right, like the moment might shatter if he breathed too loud. It was slow, trembling, nothing like before but somehow deeper, and when your lips met his, it wasn’t forgiveness, wasn’t certainty. It was need. Quiet and aching and real.
When you pulled back, your fingers were still tangled in his. Your voice barely made it out. “That doesn’t make this okay.”
Minho nodded. “I know.”
You sat there like that, forehead to forehead, the worst still between you, but not untouched. Not unspoken, and for now, that was enough.
It wasn’t forgiveness. It wasn’t healing.
But it was a beginning. And that had to count for something.
Howdy everyone! Im back after like 6 months lol. Sorry for disappearing like that 😀 life just got busy and stuff. BUT im back and ive been writing 😏 Hopefully ill post more than just 3 fics before dipping again but who knows LMAO. ANYWAYS i hope you guys enjoy this and if there are any mistakes please let me know! (i somewhat proofread this at 2am soooooo)
Synopsis: Hyunjin, a photographer, finds solace and inspiration in a picturesque village that soon becomes the heart of his world. Back in Seoul, unsettling discoveries make him question the reality of what he experienced.
Hyunjin hadn’t touched his camera in weeks. It sat at the edge of his desk, a thin layer of dust settling over its worn leather strap and gleaming glass lens. He used to not be able to go a full day without taking a photo, but now, every attempt felt flat and uninspired. Frustration gnawed at him. He couldn’t understand why this fog of creative emptiness had descended on him, and the lack of answers only deepened his unease.
Determined to break free of it, Hyunjin tore through his room, rummaging through old photo albums and drawers, hunting for a spark or some long lost reminder of the passion he used to feel. Among the clutter, he stumbled upon a small photograph. Its edges had yellowed, and the colours had faded with time, but he recognised it instantly. It had been a gift from an elderly photographer he’d met at a gallery a couple years ago when Hyunjin was still fresh-faced and hungry for experience. Back then, the man had told him, “Whenever you get lost or need to feel free again, go here. This place has a tendency to make people feel found.’
Hyunjin held the photo up to the light, studying it. The picture was of a quaint town nestled away from the world, its cobbled streets winding between colourful houses with flowers spilling from every windowsill. The town looked quiet, untouched by time, like it had secrets only a few had ever learned. Just looking at it stirred something inside him, a faint echo of the thrill he used to feel when he picked up his camera. He knew he couldn't ignore it. If he didn’t act now, he feared he would lose his love for photography forever.
Impulsively, he packed a small bag, tossing in essentials alongside his once beloved camera. Within hours, he was on a plane, his heart pounded with a nervous excitement he hadn’t felt in years. The flight was long, but he didn't mind. He gazed out of the window, watching clouds drift by as he imagined what awaited him in that town. It wasn’t just a place he was flying to; it was a glimmer of hope.
When he landed, he took a winding bus ride through rolling hills and forests, the road twisting and turning until he could finally see the town appearing below in the soft glow of dusk. By the time he reached the tiny motel, the sun had set, and the town was bathed in the warm, golden light of street lamps and shop signs. Exhausted but content, he checked in and fell asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. The promise of a new beginning easing him into a dream.
The next morning, he woke up with the sun streaming through the thin blinds, filling his room with a gentle warmth. After a quick breakfast at a small cafe nearby, he slung his camera over his shoulder and set off to explore. The town was just as enchanting as the photo had promised. Narrow streets wound through rows of brightly painted houses, flower boxes bursting with colour at every turn. Market stalls lined the main square, selling fresh produce, handmade crafts, and little trinkets that caught the light.
Hyunjin didn’t reach for his camera right away. Instead, he let himself get lost in the rhythm of the town, feeling the cobblestone beneath his feet and inhaling the scents of blooming flowers and fresh bread. He stopped to chat with the locals, even sharing a laugh with an old man who teased him about his tourist’s curiosity. As the day wore on, he took a few photos. Portraits of shopkeepers, a child chasing a cat down an alley, the vibrant colours of the market stalls, but the inspiration he sought still eluded him.
Returning to his motel that evening, Hyunjin felt a strange sense of peace. While he hadn’t yet rekindled his creative fire, he felt lighter and more hopeful than he had in weeks. He fell asleep wondering what tomorrow would bring, feeling closer to rediscovering himself with every step he took in this little town that seemed to wait patiently for him to find his way back to his art.
On his third day in town, Hyunjin decided to explore the outskirts, hoping the untouched landscape might stir the inspiration he’d been searching for. He spent a couple of hours wandering narrow trails that led through groves of trees and open meadows, his camera swinging idly by his side, waiting for the right moment. Still, no shot felt right. Nothing seemed to spark the connection he craved.
Then, as he walked along the shaded path, he came upon a willow tree standing beside a large, serene pond. Its long, wispy branches cascaded towards the water, swaying gently in the breeze. It was peaceful, a place seemingly untouched by time, and Hyunjin decided it would be a perfect spot to take a break. As he approached the tree, he noticed he was not alone.
You were seated beneath the large tree on a neatly laid blanket, your figure partially hidden by the hanging branches. You looked deep in thought, your gaze fixed on the still waters of the pond, your hair flowing in soft waves, being lifted slightly by the breeze. There was a quiet grace about you, an unspoken depth that intrigued him. Hyunjin felt his breath catch. There was something so captivating about your solitude – the way you seemed to blend with the landscape as if you belonged there more than any human ever could.
Without much thought, he lifted his camera, adjusting the focus to capture your presence within the tranquil setting. But just as he pressed the shutter, the sound of the camera echoed louder than expected. Your head turned sharply in his direction, your eyes wide with surprise.
Hyunjin quickly lowered his camera, his face flushing as he stammered, “I'm so sorry… I didn't mean to startle you. I just… couldn't miss the perfect shot.”
A small smile played on your lips, the surprise fading from your expression. “It’s okay,” you replied, glancing back towards the water with a soft chuckle. “I guess I was just lost in thought.”
He couldn't help but notice the way you spoke, your voice gentle but clear, each word carrying a quiet warmth. For a moment, Hyunjin found himself lost again, this time in your calm presence. He felt an urge to know you, to understand the stories behind your serene expression.
“Im Hyunjin,” his voice was hesitant yet hopeful, as if fearing he might break the delicate spell between you.
You turned back to him, your voice widening slightly. “Nice to meet you, Hyunjin.” Your tone was light but kind, and there was a spark in your gaze that made his heart race unexpectedly.
For a moment, silence settled between you, filled only by the whisper of a breeze rustling the willow leaves. Trying to fill the space, he asked, “So, what brings you out here all alone?”
You looked back at the water, a hint of something reflective in your eyes. “I just needed a little air,” you said softly. “It’s peaceful here… gives me room to think.”
You paused, then glanced at the empty spot beside you. “Would you like to sit?” a slight curiosity in your tone.
Hyunjin nodded quickly, perhaps a bit too eagerly, and sat down beside you, careful not to disturb the tranquillity of your small space. He could still feel the lingering embarrassment from earlier but was relieved that you didn’t seem bothered. You turned to him, the warmth of your smile easing his nerves.
“So what brings you to this town?” you asked, your eyes alight with genuine interest.
Hyunjin hesitated for a moment before sharing the story of his recent struggle with his art, the way he’d felt lost and disconnected until he’d found the photograph that had brought him here. You listened intently, nodding at each turn, your expression one of understanding that made him feel oddly comforted.
When he finished, he asked, “And what about you? Do you come here often?”
“I grew up here,” you said with a fondness lacing your words. “This place is part of me. It’s home, even when I need to step away from it. I guess you could say it keeps me floating.”
You both continued to talk as the minutes slipped by, sharing small pieces of your lives. With each word, Hyunjin felt himself becoming more and more captivated by you. It wasn’t just your words but the way you held yourself, the quiet strength and calmness that seemed to radiate from you.
Eventually, you glanced at the sky, a reluctant look crossing your face. “I should probably head off now,” you said, standing up and dusting off your blanket.
Hyunjin felt a strange pang as you packed up your things, an emptiness he hadn’t anticipated. He realised he didn’t even know your name, yet he felt as if he’d known you for far longer than these few minutes. He wanted to ask you to stay, or to at least meet again, but the words caught in his throat.
With one last smile, you looked at him. “It was nice meeting you, Hyunjin,” you said softly before turning to walk away, leaving him under the willow tree with only the photo of you and the quiet ripples of the pond.
As he watched you go, Hyunjin felt something inside him shift. This peaceful place had reignited something he thought he’d lost. For the first time in a long while, he lifted his camera again, capturing the scene as if to hold onto the moment forever.
Hyunjin returned to the town that evening, trying to take more photos of the colourful marketplace and the winding streets. Yet no matter how hard he tried to concentrate on his surroundings, he couldn't get you out of his mind. The memory of your gentle smile or your thoughtful gaze on the pond–you lingered in his thoughts like a haunting melody. As the evening shadows stretched off the cobbled paths, Hyunjin resigned himself to the quiet of his motel room, though sleep came slowly, the image of you at the willow tree etched vividly in his mind.
The next day, he rose early and wandered the town again, hoping to recapture the inspiration he felt slipping through his fingers. As he meandered through the bustling plaza, weaving between vendors setting up their vibrant wares, he saw you. You were strolling near the far edge of the square, a woven basket hanging from your arms. Before he could even think, his legs carried him forward. Your eyes widened with surprise when you saw him, followed by a delighted smile.
“You again,” you teased, your eyes crinkling with amusement.
“Yeah, I… well, I couldn’t leave without another photo,” he replied, his voice uncertain but sincere. You laughed, and he felt the last traces of his nervousness melt away.
“Well then, come on,” you said, gesturing for him to walk with you. You left the bustling plaza and wandered into the countryside beyond the town, a quiet path that opened up to a vast expanse of wildflower fields stretching out in every direction. The flowers were in full bloom, petals painting the landscape in rich hues of lavender, gold, and crimson. Hyunjin could smell their faint, sweet perfume in the air. The trail found its way through the field, and soon you arrived at a gentle stream where wild grasses leaned over the water’s edge.
“Spring is special here,” you murmured, motioning to the lively stream, where tiny fish darted beneath the surface and dragonflies skimmed over the water. “It wakes everything up.”
Hyunjin nodded, taking in every word, though he found himself more captivated by your voice than the scene you were describing. You pointed out small animals hidden among the reeds, such as a small family of ducks waddling near the shore, or the heron standing gracefully on one leg. He just studied you, noticing the way your face lit up with each new sight.
“Do you know much about them?” you asked suddenly, your question breaking him out of his trance.
Hyunjin realised he’d barely listened, too lost in watching you. You tilted your head, giving him a curious look, and he felt his face flush. He quickly nodded, managing a quiet “Mhm…”
A knowing smile tugged at the corners of your mouth, but you let it slide, continuing your stories of the stream’s wildlife as you walked. You seemed to know every detail of the land, from the tiniest insects to the habits of the foxes that visited at dusk. Hyunjin listened, caught between fascination with your words and the growing warmth he felt in your presence.
After a while, his stomach growled softly, causing him to laugh in embarrassment. “I guess I should've packed a lunch.”
You gave him a playful look before opening your basket and pulling out two neatly wrapped sandwiches, handing one to him with a smile. “Lucky for you, I came prepared.”
You found a low tree with sturdy branches, and quickly climbed onto one with ease, patting the spot beside you. Hyunjin joined you, unwrapping the sandwich as you sat there, legs swinging like carefree children. You ate in a comfortable silence, surrounded by the soft murmur of the stream and the hum of distant wildlife.
Once you had finished eating, you lingered on the branch, talking about the town and sharing stories and memories of your lives. He learnt that you spent most afternoons in the fields, seeking out little pockets of peace away from the noise of the town. You described how the landscape transformed with each season, your eyes lighting up with each memory you shared. As you spoke, he felt himself drawn more and more into your world, sensing the way you saw beauty in the smallest things.
The hours slipped by until, eventually, you both realised you should head back. You hopped off the branch, brushing loose bark from your pants, and he followed you down the winding paths leading towards town. You walked slowly, the conversation more thoughtful now, until you finally reached the familiar streets.
As you parted ways, Hyunjin felt a sense of reluctance, wishing he had a reason to keep walking with you, just a bit longer. But with one last wave and a smile, you disappeared into the busy street, leaving him with a strange ache in his chest and a new kind of inspiration stirring within him.
For the first time in a while, Hyunjin felt the urge to capture more than just a photograph; he wanted to capture a feeling, a memory that would linger long after he’d left this place.
The next morning, Hyunjin was up early, determined to find you again. He wandered through the village’s winding streets, scanning each corner and side street, hoping for a glimpse of your familiar figure. He checked the plaza, the cafe, even the quiet paths by the outskirts, but you were nowhere to be found. The entire day passed in a blur as he thought of little else, his mind replaying every word and expression, every smile and laugh that you had shared. That night he lay awake, formulating a plan — a way to spend more time with you — to capture this rare, exhilarating feeling and keep it alive as long as he could.
That night, sleep was elusive. His mind was a storm of excitement, anticipation, and a nervous energy that kept him awake well into the early hours. By the time he finally drifted off, the sky was already beginning to show its rosy hues.
The next morning, he woke up in a panic, immediately glancing at the clock. He’d overslept, and by the time he left his room, the village was already alive with activity. He strolled through the narrow streets, feeling disappointed and convinced he might have missed his chance. But as he wandered past the plaza, a familiar figure caught his eye. You were sitting by the fountain in the middle of the square, your head bowed slightly as you stared at the water, lost in thought.
A smile broke across his face as he watched you, your figure bathed in the soft glow of midday sun, and he couldn’t resist capturing the moment. Without a second thought, he lifted his camera, capturing your profile as you sat quietly, unaware of his presence. There was something in your stillness, an elegance that he couldn’t quite put into words but felt compelled to preserve in the frame. After a few shots, he put the camera down and made his way over, tapping your shoulder gently.
“Mind if I sit here?” he asked, feigning a casual air as though he were a stranger passing by.
You looked up, surprised but pleased, your smile warm as you gestured to the spot beside you. “Of course,” you said, shifting slightly to make room for him. You sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments, each lost in your own thoughts. The sounds of the town filled the air. Children laughing, merchants calling out their wares, the soft splash of the fountain’s water.
Eventually, you broke the silence, your voice thoughtful. “It’s funny, isn't it? How the town feels so alice in spring, but in winter, it almost seems… frozen in time.”
Hyunjin nodded, sensing there was more you wanted to share. Your eyes lingered on the fountain, and there was a wistfulness to your gaze.
“I love it here,” you continued. “It’s my home, and it always will be. But sometimes… I wonder what else is out there.” Your words hung in the air, and Hyunjin could hear the faintest edge of sadness to your tone. “You're lucky,” you added, glancing at him. “You get to see so much of the world. I’m…well, I'm just here.”
Your honesty surprised him. He had assumed you were content with your quiet life, rooted in this picturesque town. But there you were, longing for places you had never seen, paths you had never walked. He tried to reassure you, saying “It’s not too late. You could leave, too.”
You shook your head slowly, a bittersweet smile spreading across your lips. “No, I couldn’t. This is where I belong. I don't think I know how to leave, even if I wanted to.”
Hearing the resignation in your voice stirred something in Hyunjin. You seemed bound to this place, your roots deep in the soil of your home, yet your heart ached for something more. He sensed a longing to share with you a glimpse of the beauty he had seen in the world. Impulsively, he reached for your hand, his fingers curling gently around yours. Your gaze lifted in surprise, but you didn’t pull away; your eyes filled with a mix of curiosity and trust.
“Come with me,” he said, a newfound confidence lending strength to his words. Without another word, he guided you away from the plaza, through the narrow streets and out towards the edge of town.
You walked in a companionable silence along a hidden trail he’d discovered through a conversation with a local. He led you up a small incline, past dense trees and flowering shrubs, your hand warm in his as you journeyed through the soft underbrush. After a short but winding trek, you emerged into a secluded clearing. Before you laid a waterfall, cascading down smooth rocks into a clear pool below, its waters glinting in the afternoon sunlight.
Your eyes widened as you took in the sight, a breathless smile spreading across your face. “I’ve lived here my whole life,” you murmured, “But I had no idea this was here.”
Hyunjin watched you, captivated by your awe. You seemed to radiate with the same beauty as the scene around you, and for a moment, he felt as if he were seeing you for the first time. The sun casted a golden glow over you, illuminating the spark in your eyes and the subtle curve of your lips as you looked around in wonder. To him, you were the most beautiful part of the entire landscape.
You wandered closer to the water’s edge, laughing softly as you spotted a group of butterflies fluttering nearby. You crouched down, extending your hand as one of them landed gently on your fingertip. Hyunjin had no choice but to lift his camera, capturing your delicate smile and the sunlit waterfall shimmering behind you. He couldn’t help but take a few more photos, capturing your wonder and delight. Each slot felt like a small treasure, a memory he wanted to keep alive forever.
You wandered around the waterfall, watching the small creatures that made their homes there— a white rabbit sprinting into the bushes, a red squirrel darting up a tree, tiny birds fluttering their wings between branches. But Hyunjin could hardly focus on any of it. His gaze kept drifting back to you.
Finally, you sat by the water’s edge, side by side, your shoulders nearly touching. The sound of the rushing water filled the air, but between you, there was a comfortable silence. You turned to him, a grateful smile on your lips, and he felt the weight of your gaze like a warmth that reached straight to his heart.
“Thank you.” You said softly, your voice filled with an emotion he couldn't quite place.
As the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting a warm shine over the clearing, you made your way back to the town. Hand in hand, you walked together, Hyunjin feeling a sense of peace he hadn’t experienced in a long time. As you reached the village, he realised that this little corner of the world held something far greater than he'd ever expected.
The evening air was tinged with the faint aroma of blooming flowers as you both lingered, just for a moment, beneath the soft glow of the streetlamp. You looked at him, your gaze steady and warm. “Meet me at the stream tomorrow around 11,” you said with a small smile, your voice carrying a hint of mystery. With one last glance, you turned to walk down the cobblestone road, leaving Hyunjin standing there, heart fluttering in his chest.
That night, sleep evaded him. He lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, replaying the way you looked at him, the softness of your voice, the invitation in your words. Every thought of you filled his chest in a quiet happiness, and by the time he finally drifted off, his mind was full with dreams of the stream and the promise of seeing you again.
He woke up at dawn, hours too early, unable to keep himself from the thrill of the day ahead. He got dressed slowly, choosing his clothes with great care, and ate a small breakfast to settle his nerves. Finally, as the clock ticked closer to 11, he set off, feeling the warm rays of sun on his back as he walked through the wildflower fields towards the stream.
When he reached the water’s edge, his heart sank. The gentle trickle of the stream was the only sound to be heard, and you were nowhere to be seen. He kept glancing around, his excitement quickly fading into disappointment. Just as he was about to turn around, he noticed a figure across the stream, lying on a soft patch of grass, gazing up at the pearly white clouds.
It was you.
You laid sprawled out on the grass, one arm behind your head and the other resting across your stomach. Your eyes were closed and your face was relaxed, your expression almost serene. The sunlight cast a golden glow across your skin, and you looked as if you were part of the landscape itself, a piece of this quiet paradise. Hyunjin’s hand rushed to his camera, lifting it to his eye, capturing you from afar, framing the curve of your face, the peacefulness in your expression, the way the soft light danced around you. He took a few quiet shots, smiling as he lowered the camera, unable to tear his eyes away from you.
There was something about you… a presence, a quiet strength, a beauty that felt otherworldly. Each day you spent together drew him further into your orbit, and he found himself marvelling at how effortlessly you seemed to capture his every thought.
Realising he’d have to cross the stream to join you, he looked down at the wide body of water separating them, assessing his options. The rocks looked slippery, and the stream was deceptively deep in some parts. He considered looking for a branch or some sort of makeshift bridge, half-laughing at the lengths he was willing to go just to avoid wet feet.
He was mid-search, crouched over a pile of sticks when he heard a soft laugh. Looking up, he saw you gazing back at him from across the stream, a curious smile tugging at your lips.
“Need some help there?” you called out, amusement clear in your voice. A blush crept across his cheeks as he straightened, giving you an embarrassed smile.
“Just… planning my route,” he replied, sheepish.
You stood up, brushing bits of grass from your legs and waded into the stream without hesitation. The water lapped at your bare ankles as you moved towards him, your shorts rolled up just above your knees, your steps sure and graceful. The sound of the water splashing softly around you filled the air, and Hyunjin watched, momentarily mesmerised as you approached him.
“Scared to get wet?” you teased, stopping just a few feet away, your eyes twinkling with mischief.
He chuckled, quickly recovering. “No, just trying to protect the camera,” he said, lifting it slightly as though to defend his excuse. “Can't risk it getting wet.”
You raised an eyebrow, stepping even closer, until your face was mere centimetres from his, your gaze looked onto his. Hyunjin felt his heart stutter, his pulse racing as he met your eyes. Your face was so close, he could feel your breath, warm against his skin, your expression full of intent.
In one swift motion, you reached out, snatching the camera from his hands, and darted back across the stream, genuine laughter spilling from your lips. Hyunjin stood frozen in surprise, watching as you reached the other side, grinning triumphantly as you held the camera aloft.
“Hey!” he called, his voice tinged with laughter. You flashed him a mischievous smile, the sun catching the glint of your eyes.
“Should’ve just worn shorts like me!” you shouted back, waving the camera. Your laughter was harmonious, and Hyunjin couldn’t help but smile, feeling his heart swell with affection.
With a sigh of playful defeat, he set his shoes and socks aside, rolling up the bottom of his jeans to his knees. Tentatively, he stepped into the stream, the water frigid yet refreshing against his skin. You watched him from your side of the bank, your laughter softening as he made his way across.
He took slow, tentative steps into the stream, eyes focused on the rocks beneath him as he playfully navigated the water, each step cautious to avoid slipping. The cool stream tickled his ankles, and he winced as the water seeped higher, inching towards the rolled-up hem of his jeans. You watched him with a smile, setting his camera safely on a dry patch of grass away from the water before coming to his side.
“It's really not that cold,” you said, giving him an encouraging smile as you knelt down to scoop up a handful of water, letting it trickle through your fingers.
He nodded, trying to play it cool. “Yeah, it's nothing,” he replied, though the water’s chill was starting to make him shiver slightly.
You looked at him with a delinquent glint in your eye. “What's that?” you asked, your gaze fixed on something just over his shoulder.
He glanced back instinctively, only to feel a sudden splash of icy water against his back. The shock jolted him, and he straightened with a gasp, feeling the cold seep through his shirt as a gasp escaped your lips. Slowly, he turned back to face you, and there you were, grinning widely, your eyes dancing with pure mischief.
He genuinely felt like his heart might burst as he looked at you, the playful glint in your eyes making him smile despite the chill running down his spine. You didn’t waste a second before gathering another handful of water, tossing it at him with a delighted laugh.
“Oh, it's on.” He laughed as he kicked his leg, sending a wide spray of water your way, drenching you in a sudden wave. You shrieked, laughing as the water splashed over you, soaking the front of your shirt and sending your hair tumbling in wet waves over your head. Hyunjin couldn’t help but laugh, the sound of your delighted squeals filling the air around you.
You weren’t about to let him with that easily, though. Bracing yourself, you used your foot to send another splash in his direction, water arching towards him as he lifted his hands in mock defence. Before you could gather more water, he lunged forward, closing the distance between the two of you in an instant. Wrapping his arms around your waist, he lifted you off the ground, spinning playfully as you smiled, your laughter ringing out in joyous peals that echoed across the stream.
He carried you into the middle of the stream, your laughter mixing with the bubbling of the water and the gentle rustling of leaves overhead. You kicked playfully, your arms wrapping around his neck as he finally set you down, your faces close as you both struggled to catch your breath between giggles.
Just as he let you go, your foot slipped on a wet rock, and with a yelp, you fell back, splashing down into the shallow water, your arms flailing as you tried — and failed — to steady yourself. You landed with a splash, your clothes soaked, and for a split second, the laughter stopped. Hyunjin froze, watching you with wide eyes, worry etched across his face.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his hand immediately extended towards you, concern evident in his eyes.
A wicked smile spread across your face as you took his hand, your grip firm as you tugged him down towards you with surprising strength. Before he could react, he was tumbling forward, splashing down beside you in the cool water. For a moment, he was stunned, the cold soaking through his clothes as you burst in laughter, your face alight with pure joy. He joined in, the laughter ringing through the clearing as you began splashing each other with abandon, the water flying as you playfully fought your way across the shallow stream.
Minutes passed, all the laughter echoing in quiet solitude around you. Eventually, as your energy waned, you waded back to the grassy patch near the water's edge, both of you soaked to the skin, hair dripping as you flopped down onto the sunlit grass, lying side by side, gazing up at the sky.
The warm sun beat down on you, drying your clothes slowly as you lay there, side by side, watching the fluffy clouds drift lazily across the sky. You exchanged stories, small secrets, and laughter as the sun climbed higher, casting its warmth over you. Together, you spoke of dreams and favourite memories, of fears and the quiet hopes you held close to your heart. You told him about growing up in the village, the little joys and the familiar rhythm of life there, while he shared stories of his travels, the places he’d been to and the adventures he’d had.
As the afternoon sun reached its peak, Hyunjin felt an overwhelming sense of peace settle over him. Lying there on the grass, side by side, with no rush and no expectations, you simply enjoyed each other’s presence, as though the world beyond the stream had faded away, leaving only the two of you and this perfect, sunlit moment.
The sun dipped below the horizon, casting the sky in an array of deep purples and warm oranges that stretched like watercolour strokes across the landscape. Hyunjin’s camera clicked rhythmically, capturing the last golden rays as you two bathed the town in a soft, dreamlike glow. He paused for a moment, turning his lens towards you as you stood by the edge of the path, your hair catching the evening breeze. You looked beautiful, framed by the colours of twilight, and he couldn’t resist reserving that fleeting beauty.
As you made your way back into town, the gentle hum of the evening settled around you two. Streetlights began to flicker to life, their warm glow casting dancing shadows across the rocky streets. The town bustled with soft laughter and the chanter of people heading home, mingling with the faint melodies of a street musician strumming an old guitar.
Hyunjin glanced at you, an unspoken question shimmering in his eyes. He took a deep breath, trying to sound casual. “Would you stay with me tonight? We could watch the stars together and talk until morning.”
You paused, your gaze softening as you looked at him. A hint of regret flickered across your expression, and you gave him a gentle smile. “I can’t tonight, Hyunjin,” you said softly, your voice tinged with a quiet sadness.
A brief pang of disappointment bloomed in Hyunjin’s chest, but he quickly swallowed it down, curving his lips into an understanding smile. “That's okay,” he replied, his tone light. “Maybe another time.”
You walked side by side through the town, the comfortable conversation between you being punctuated by the distant hoot of an owl and the rustling of leaves. Hyunjin’s heart ached a little; the desire to be closer, to cross that invisible line between friendship and something more was gnawing at him. Yet he pushed that feeling aside, content to be simply near you.
The following days passed in a blue of laughter and shared moments that felt suspended in time. Together, you explored every nook and cranny of the village, from the bustling market where you sampled sweet pastries and admired handcrafted trinkets to the quiet meadow behind the old church where life bloomed in a riot of colour. The air between you cracked with a subtle electronic tension — each accidental touch and shared glance heavy with meaning.
One afternoon, you tugged at his sleeve, a playful grin lighting up your face. “Come with me,” you said, excitement sparkling in your eyes. You led him through narrow, winding roads to a small, stone fronted bakery tucked between two larger shops. The scent of fresh bread and sugar wafted out to greet you, warm and inviting.
“This is where I work,” you said, your voice brimming with pride. Hyunjin’s eyes widened in surprise as you pushed open the wooden door, ushering him inside. The bakery was cosy, large shelves lined with golden loaves, pastries glazed with sugar, and cakes that looked almost too beautiful to eat.
“Choose anything you like,” you said, slipping behind the counter, grabbing tongs before staring back at him. His heart swelled at the sight of you, framed by the warm glow of the bakery, the soft light catching in your eyes.
He pointed to a delicate looking pastry, making you chuckle. “Good choice,” you said, handing it to him with a wink. You sat at a small table in the corner, sharing bites and trading sentences as the afternoon filtered through the windows, casting golden patches across your faces.
The moment felt perfect — simple, sweet, and filled with an unspoken connection that made Hyunjin’s pulse quicker. As you laughed and talked, surrounded by the comforting scent of baked goods, he felt the romantic tension between the two of you deepen, like a song waiting for its crescendo.
Every evening, as the sun dipped low and painted the village in warm hues, Hyunjin would pull out his camera, capturing the moments that made up these perfect days. But no photograph could capture the way his chest tightened when you laughed or the quiet longing that settled between you as you walked through the lit streets.
Your days were filled with joy, yet the feelings hung between you like an unsaid promise, waiting for the right moment to be spoken aloud.
Hyunjin could feel the weight of impending departure pressing on his chest, a dull ache that grew with each passing hour. The small town, once just a place on a map, had become a part of him, woven with memories that, at this moment, felt bittersweet. It wasn’t just the winding streets or the sun kissed fields that made leaving so hard — it was you. The one who had turned his days into something extraordinary. He wished, with silent desperation, that time would stop, but no amount of hoping could change the inevitably of his departure.
The morning of his last day arrived, a cruel uncertainty settling over him like a shadow. He kept the knowledge buried deep, unwilling to burden you with the same weight that made his heart heavy. He moved through the hours as if in a dream, visiting familiar places and capturing their essence through the lens of his camera, but none of it brought him the comfort it once did.
As the sun began its leisurely descent, casting the sky in the hues of amber that rose that he had gotten to know so well, Hyunjin made his way to the bakery. The bell above the door chimed as he stepped inside, and there you were, apron dusted with flour, a smudge on your cheek that made him smile despite the lump forming in his throat. You looked up, your eyes brightening as they found him, unaware of the storm brewing behind his steady gaze.
“Ready to go?” you asked, untying your apron and setting it aside. The warmth in your voice and the way you looked at him as if he belonged there — it made everything harder.
“Yeah,” he managed, his voice softer than usual. He reached for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours as you walked out into the golden light of the evening.
You wandered down the familiar path that led to the willow tree, the leaves rustling in the soft breeze as if whispering their secrets. The pond mirrored the warm colours of the sky, it’s surface glistening with a gentle shimmer. It was where you had first met, where the story between you had begun, and now it seemed it would be where it came full circle.
You settled into the roots of the tree, the quietness between you not uncomfortable but thick with meaning. The sun dipped lower, casting a halo of light that danced across the water. You leaned back, your eyes tracing the leaves as they drifted lazily, unaware of the truth he was about to speak.
Hyunjin looked at you, the words tangled in his chest, each one sharp and aching. Finally, he let out a breath and said, “This is my last day here.”
The silence that followed was different, sharp and brittle. You turned towards him, disbelief shadowing your expression. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” your voice trembled.
He swallowed hard, searching your eyes and finding a mixture of hurt and confusion. “I didn’t want it to be real,” he said, his voice cracking with the weight of it. “I thought maybe if I didn’t say it out loud, it wouldn’t come true.”
A tear slipped down your cheek, but you brushed it away with an angry hand. “That’s not fair, Hyunjin,” you said, a sharp edge to your tone. “I deserved to know.”
“I know,” he whispered, guilt lacing through him. He reached for your hand, but you pulled away, the movement breaking something inside him. “I'm sorry. I didn't want to hurt you.
“Well, you did,” the rawness in your voice matching the ache in your chest. The willow’s leaves swayed around you, casting dappled shadows that seemed to echo the heaviness of your conversation.
A tear welled up in his eye, blurring his vision as he looked at you. “I don't want it to end like this. I care about you more than anything, and it’s tearing me apart to leave.”
You stood up, the movement abrupt, your eyes blazing with a mixture of heartbreak and frustration. For a moment, Hyunjin feared you were going to walk away without another word. But then, you turned back to him, your chest rising and falling with uneven breaths, eyes glistening as you asked “Are you sure you care about me?”
The question struck him like a physical blow. “Of course I care about you,” he replied, his voice low but urgent, filled with concern and confusion. “How could you even think–”
“Then why didn’t you tell me sooner?” you interrupted, tears brimming your eyes, threatening to spill over. “Why did you keep this from me if I meant anything to you?”
“Because I was scared,” he admitted, the words tumbling out, raw and exposed. “I didn’t want to see that look on your face! The one you're giving me now.”
You laughed, a bitter and broken sound, and the tears finally escaped down your cheek. “And yet here we are,” you said, wiping your now wet face with a shaky hand. Your gaze dropped for a moment before coming back up, piercing him with its intensity. “You never even asked for my name, Hyunjin.”
His heart clenched, guilt twisting through him like a knife. “It’s not that I didnt care enough to ask,” he expressed, taking a step forward, trying to close the space between you. “It’s just… I felt like I already knew you. Like your name wasn’t just a word but something I already carried here.” He pressed his hand to his chest, eyes pleading with yours. “I was too afraid that asking would make it feel real, that acknowledging it would make me fall even harder, and then this —” he gestured helplessly between you two, the air crackling with unspoken words,”–- would hurt even more.”
You turned, taking a few uneasy steps away from him, and he felt his chest tighten with panic. He reached out, grabbing your hand before you could move any further. The touch froze you in place, and though you didn’t turn, he could see your shoulders shaking as more tears fell.
“Wait!” his voice cracked with emotion. “Please, just listen.” He drew in a breath, his throat tight, his heart pounding with a mix of desperation and raw honesty. “You have to know how much I care about you. I know the sound of your laugh, how it changes when something really makes you happy, and how you tilt your head just a bit when you’re really listening to someone. I know how your eyes catch the sunlight when you talk about your dreams and how your smile softens when you’re lost in thought.”
He took a shaky breath, trying to keep the surge of emotion in check. “I remember every time you tucked that stray piece of hair behind your ear, not knowing how much it made my heart race. I know the way your voice wavers when you’re about to admit something close to your heart, and the way you hold back tears even when you don’t need to be strong. I noticed the scent of freshly baked cookies that lingers on you from the bakery, the way your fingertips are dusted with flour when you’re in a rush.”
Tears welled up in his own eyes as he spoke, each word a step deeper into his vulnerable heart. “I know the way you pause to watch the sky as if you’re searching for something beyond the clouds and how your entire face lights up when you’re caught up in a story or memory. I know all these little things because every second with you, I’ve been memorising them, afraid I’d have to leave and forget even one.”
You stood frozen, tears now streaming down your cheeks as you absorbed the weight of his confession. He stepped closer, his voice trembling but resolute. “Leaving now feels like tearing away from everything that's made me feel alive for the first time in so long. I never asked for your name because I was terrified that knowing it would make it impossible to let go.”
Your eyes softened, the wall of hurt between them crumbling under the weight of his words. Without saying a word, you took another step closer, searching his face for any trace of insincerity. All you could find was the unguarded truth, etched in every line of his expression.
With a suddenness that made his heart stutter, you leaned in, pressing your lips to his. The first touch was tentative, almost hesitant, as if testing the fragile connection between you. Hyunjin’s breath caught in his throat, and the world seemed to still, holding its breath around you. The taste of you was both familiar and sweet, a mix of warmth and the faintest hint of cinnamon from the bakery.
As the initial shock melted away, he responded by deepening the kiss with a slow, careful intensity that spoke of every unspoken word and unfulfilled wish. His hands found your waist, fingers brushing against the fabric of your shirt as though it was the most delicate thing he’d ever touched. You leaned into him, your own hands trembling as they came to rest on his shoulders, holding on as if to anchor yourself in the moment.
Time felt irrelevant; the cool breeze rustling the leaves above and the golden hues became a backdrop to the raw emotion between you. The kiss shifted from hesitant to certain, your lips moving together in a dance that spoke of longing, desperation, and a promise that defied the reality of your impending parting. It was a kiss filled with everything you hadn’t said, a final bridge between two hearts that had found each other by chance and were now bound by something neither could quite explain.
When you finally broke apart, your faces lingered close, breaths mingling in the space between. Hyunjin’s eyes searched yours, finding them still wet with tears but now shining with a new depth of understanding. He reached up and gently wiped away a tear with the pad of his thumb, his touch lingering on your skin.
“You have no idea how much this moment means to me,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. You closed your eyes, letting the warmth of his words seep into your heart before opening them again, your gaze tender but filled with the bittersweet truth that this moment, however perfect, might be your last for a long while.
As your breath steadied and the weight of the moment settled, you leaned forward, wrapping your arms around him in an embrace that felt like it could seal the cracks of your heart. Hyunjin hugged you back, pulling you close as if he could imprint the memory of your warmth into his very being. You stood there for what felt like an eternity, the world around you fading into the background — the rustling of the leaves, the distant hum of the town — all a mere whisper compared to the quiet thrum of your shared heartbeat.
When you finally pulled apart, it was with an unspoken understanding that the night was yours. Hyunjin gently took your hand, guiding you down to the soft grass beneath the willow tree. The moon had risen higher, casting the world in a dusky glow that seemed to embrace you in its shallow light. You lay side by side, your fingers brushing against each other as you stared up at the sky through the leaves, which now began to shimmer with its first hints of stars.
A gentle breeze played with his hair, helping you smile softly when a strand ticked his nose. He turned his head to look at you, memorising the way your eyes crinkled at the corners and how the curve of your smile seemed to brighten even the coming night.
“Remember when you tricked me into thinking there was a festival happening in the square, and it turned out to be just you with your basket full of pastries?” he asked, his tone light and the memory evoking a shared laugh. You nodded, eyes glistening with amusement.
“You fell for it so easily! But it was worth it when you kept guessing what kind of pastries I'd brought,” you replied, the mirth in your voice softening as you continued, “I’d never seen anyone so happy over cinnamon rolls.”
You talked about more moments like these — you showing him secret corners of the town where the wildflowers grow in vibrant clusters, or your afternoons spent by the stream tossing stones and sharing stories, and the impromptu dance in the rain that had left you soaked and laughing under the stormy sky. Each memory unfolded between you like chapters in a book, your voices mingling with the chirp of crickets as the sky turned from twilight to deep indigo, scattered with stars.
“Why do these memories feel so big, so… heavy?” you asked, your voice barely above a winter as you turned to him.
Hyunjin reached for your hand, your fingers intertwining as he looked at you with a tender smile. “Because they mean everything,” he said. “Every moment, no matter how small, it all matters.”
Silence fell between you again, comfortable and profound. You laid there, hands clasped, eyes drifting from the sky above to the features of each other’s faces, illuminated by the soft starlight. The night air cooled, but neither of you rushed to go inside; you were content to stay, to hold on to every second of this final night, filling it with whispers, stolen glances, and the unspoken wish that time could somehow stand still.
Hyunjin shifted slightly so that he could draw you even closer to him. The night air whispered through the leaves of the willow tree, but in each other's arms, you felt only warmth. You nestled into his chest, draping one leg over his, as if to anchor yourself to this moment that neither of you wanted to let slip away. Your bodies fit together naturally, the rise and fall of your chests synchronising like a silent conversation spoken only in heartbeats.
With one arm wrapped securely under your head, Hyunjin lifted his other hand to gently trace the line of your jaw. His touch was gentle, reverent, as if committing each contour to memory. He tilted your face upward, your eyes meeting in a gaze that held everything. The stars above seemed to watch over you; their light pale in comparison to the spark that flickered between you.
Slowly, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was soft yet full of the intensity of leaving. It lingered, carrying the weight of the promises you wished you could make, the longing that neither voice. When you broke apart, he kept his eyes closed for a moment, savouring the feel of you so close, the taste of a dreadful goodbye.
With a soft smile, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, letting his lips linger as if to imprint the gesture into the space between them. You sighed contentedly, nuzzling further into his chest; the sound was like music to his ears — a melody he'd keep long after this night.
You both settled back into the embrace, limbs entwined, and your bodies bolded together as if you were two halves of the same whole. The surrounding sounds faded into the gentle rustle of the leaves and the rhythmic murmur of your breathing. Your fingers traced light patterns on his chest as your eyelids grow heavy, the exhaustion of the day finally overtaking you.
Hyunjin felt your body relax, and he smiled as sleep began to claim him too. The last conscious thought he had was of the way you felt against him — safe, cherished, and heartbreakingly fleeting. He tightened his hold just slightly, as if to keep the dawn from stealing you away too soon, and then, with your hearts beating as one, together you drifted off into a sleep that felt both peaceful and poignant.
The first rays of dawn filtered through the thin, whispering branches of the willow tree, casting a dappled golden glow across the ground. Hyunjin stirred, his eyes fluttering open as the memory of the night before settled like a bittersweet weight in his chest. The warmth that had cradled him as he slept was gone, replaced by the cool, empty space where you had been.
He sat up quickly, scanning the small clearing. The dew-damp grass was undisturbed, and there was no trace of you — not even the soft indentation where you had laid. A pang of loss shot through him, sharp and sudden, catching him off guard. His breath hitched as the realisation sank in: you had left.
The silence around him was deafening. The soft rustle of the leaves seemed almost mocking, a gentle reminder that the world moved on, indifferent to the ache that now gnawed at his heart. Hyunjin ran a hand through his tousled hair, the gesture rougher than intended, as if trying to shake the emptiness away. He wanted to believe that you’d left to spare you both the agony of goodbye, but it didn’t lessen the sting. If anything, it made it sharper, more personal.
Pushing himself to his feet, he glanced back at the willow tree, its long tendrils swaying gently as if bidding him farewell. The place that had held so much joy and hope now felt hollow, like an echo of what had been. He swallowed hard, a bitter taste in his mouth, before turning away and walking back toward the town.
The streets were already beginning to stir with early risers. The bakery was opening, the familiar scent wafting into the crisp morning air, but it brought no comfort as you weren’t there. Each step felt heavier as he approached the small motel where he’d been staying. It all seemed so mundane now, so void of the magic that had filled his days with you.
Packing his belongings was mechanical. The room that had once felt like a safe haven now felt suffocating. He stuffed his camera into his bag, careful not to let the precious film be jostled, each roll holding memories that were already starting to feel like dreams. His eyes stung, and he blinked quickly, unwilling to let the tears fall.
With his bag slung over his shoulder, Hyunjin took one last look at the village, the place that had changed him in ways he hadn’t expected. Then, without a word, he walked to the bus stop, the weight of departure pressing down on him.
The journey back to Korea was a blur, punctuated only by the steady thrum of the plane’s engines and the hollow ache that seemed to grow with each passing mile. When he arrived home, the familiar sights of Seoul did little to lift his spirits. The bustling city, with its endless energy and noise, felt strangely detached from him. It was as if he were walking through a film, present but not truly there.
Hyunjin dropped his bags in the corner of his apartment, pausing to glance at the framed photos on the wall. Images of friends and family stared back at him, but they failed to spark any joy. He sighed, leaning against the wall and closing his eyes. The echo of your laughter, the way you looked at him when you thought he wasn’t paying attention — it all replayed in his mind like a haunting symphony.
The emptiness settled deeper, and for the first time, he realised just how much you had become a part of him. And now, without you, Seoul — the place he had always called home — felt strangely foreign.
Days in Seoul blurred into each other like a monotonous painting. The once-vibrant city, alive with lights and the hum of possibility, felt devoid of colour. Hyunjin walked through the bustling streets, surrounded by people yet feeling utterly alone. The familiar sights of cafes, street vendors, and neon signs barely registered in his mind. The laughter of friends and the clatter of car horns seemed muted, as if the world were moving at a distance, separated from him by an invisible barrier.
A week passed in this haze of emptiness, the weight of memories pressing down on him like an anchor. He avoided looking at his photos, afraid that seeing you would unravel him completely. But one night, when sleep refused to come and the silence of his apartment became suffocating, he gave in. Pulling out the small stack of printed photos, his fingers trembled as he sifted through them.
His heart thudded as he glanced through the images, expecting your smile to leap from the film or the sparkle in your eyes to cut through the gloom that had wrapped around him. But as he flipped through one photo after another, confusion began to cloud his mind. The meadow with its sea of wildflowers, the sun-dappled stream, the towering willow tree—they were all there, captured in their vivid beauty. But you weren't.
Hyunjin’s breath caught in his throat as he went through the photos again, this time slower, more deliberately. The bakery where you’d shared secret smiles and laughter was absent. The quaint cobblestone streets of the village, the small square with its fountain—none of it was there. His photos were filled only with sweeping landscapes, untouched by any sign of human presence.
He sat back, the photos slipping from his hands and scattering across the table. A chill ran down his spine, and he pressed a palm to his forehead as if trying to steady the storm in his mind. How could you not be there? How could the town, as real as the warmth of your touch, not exist in any frame?
The unanswered questions gnawed at him, pushing him to action. The next morning, with barely a moment’s hesitation, he found himself in the public library, searching for maps and old records. The smell of aged paper and ink surrounded him as he pored over books, their yellowed pages filled with histories and lists of places he had known since childhood.
He traced his finger over the worn map of the countryside, finding familiar town names, but there was no mention of the town where he had spent those unforgettable weeks. No quaint bakery, no vibrant market. It was as if the place had been swallowed by the earth, erased from existence.
A feeling of dread unfurled in his chest, cold and insidious, snaking through his veins until it gripped his heart in a vice. It spread to his stomach, coiling and twisting until nausea surged within him, threatening to pull him under. His mind raced with questions, each more unsettling than the last. Had he imagined it all? The doubt whispered like a traitorous voice, chilling him to his core. Were you nothing more than a figment of his longing, a cruel trick played by his own desperate heart? The notion made his skin prickle with an icy sweat, and the room seemed to shrink around him, the air suddenly too thick to breathe.
Hyunjin's hands trembled as he pressed his fingers against his temples, trying to still the storm of confusion and fear that buzzed in his head like a swarm of angry bees. He felt lightheaded, as though the ground beneath him were shifting, pulling him further away from any sense of reality he could hold on to. The world around him blurred, the distant sounds of pages turning and the soft murmur of voices dissolving into a muffled hum.
His chest tightened, each breath a battle as doubt gnawed at him, insidious and relentless. It left him feeling hollow, as if the foundation of everything he had believed had suddenly been yanked away, leaving him suspended in a void of uncertainty. The pounding of his heart was loud in his ears, a frantic, dissonant drumbeat that matched the frantic thoughts tearing through his mind.
But deep down, buried beneath the avalanche of fear and questions, where logic could not reach, he clung to the unwavering truth that you were real. Your laughter—bright and free, wrapping around him like a warm embrace—had touched a place in him that no illusion ever could. The way your eyes, with their depth and unspoken secrets, could convey a thousand stories in a single glance was not something his imagination could conjure. Those moments were etched into his soul with a permanence that no doubt could erase, as vivid as if they had happened just moments before.
He swallowed hard, the sick feeling still churning in his stomach, but determination began to glimmer through the haze of dread. Whatever this meant, whatever reality had slipped between the cracks, he needed answers. He wouldn’t let you become a ghost, a beautiful and tormenting figment lost to the shadows of memory.
He had to go back. The need was so overwhelming, it left no room for second-guessing. With a heart pounding hard enough to echo in his ears, he booked a flight for the very same day, every passing moment stretching unbearably thin. The hours in the air were a blur of anxiety and hope tangled together, each heartbeat a whispered plea that this time, reality wouldn’t betray him.
When Hyunjin finally stepped off the plane and onto the familiar soil, he felt a pulse of something close to relief, though it was soon replaced by a gnawing unease. He hurried to the bus station, breathless, as he approached the driver and gave the name of the village. The driver looked at him with a furrowed brow, confusion darkening his features.
“I’m sorry, where?” the driver asked, his tone laced with doubt.
Hyunjin’s stomach dropped, but he forced his voice to stay steady as he repeated the name, this time adding details and directions etched in his memory like the lines of a map. The driver’s expression softened with reluctant understanding, and after a moment’s hesitation, he nodded. “Alright, I’ll take you as far as I can.”
The ride was steeped in silence, the bus rattling over the winding road as the landscape turned from bustling streets to rolling fields and dense woods. With each mile, Hyunjin’s chest tightened, the unease blooming into full-blown dread. Every bend in the road seemed to taunt him with the question: What if it was never there?
Finally, the bus halted. The driver gave him a cautious look, as if unsure whether to leave him alone in a place that seemed to exist only in the past or imagination. Hyunjin muttered his thanks, his legs unsteady as he stepped off and felt the crunch of gravel beneath his feet.
Hyunjin’s eyes swept frantically across the landscape, searching for the familiar details that had once filled his world with warmth and belonging. He looked for the narrow paths that twisted between stone cottages, the soft glow of lanterns hung from doorways, the flower boxes brimming with wild blooms. But instead, an expanse of untouched green stretched before him, an endless sea of grass swaying gently under the afternoon light, mocking him with its emptiness. Not a single trace of the village remained.
The silence was suffocating, pressing into his ears until all he could hear was the thundering of his own heartbeat. Panic bubbled up from deep within, sharp and wild, clawing its way up his chest. His breath came in shallow gasps, each one feeling like an attempt to swallow shards of glass. The air thickened, heavy with disbelief and a dread that threatened to choke him.
He stumbled forward, feet tripping over themselves as if they could outrun the reality taking shape before him. With each step, the ache in his chest tightened, coiling around his ribs and squeezing until pain radiated through every nerve. He was running now, the world around him blurring into a smudge of green and gold, desperation urging him forward despite the screaming in his mind: It’s gone. It’s all gone.
Suddenly, he stopped, heart still pounding as his vision cleared. There, rising like a guardian from the past, stood the old willow tree. Its sweeping branches dipped toward the earth, the leaves dancing with the same gentle grace he remembered. It swayed as if greeting him, as if acknowledging his return. A shiver raced down his spine, cold and electric, and for a moment, he could barely breathe. The tree was the only remnant left of what had once been so alive, so tangible.
Confusion flooded him, crashing over the fear and heartbreak like a storm surge. He pressed a hand to his chest as if trying to hold the pieces of himself together. How could this be real? How could everything else be gone, as if it had been nothing more than a dream, an illusion spun by his longing heart?
His legs buckled under the weight of it all, and he sank to his knees beneath the tree’s canopy, his hands gripping the grass as if it were the only thing tethering him to reality. The ache in his chest erupted, raw and uncontrollable, and a guttural cry tore from his throat, echoing into the silence around him. His pain spilt out in waves, a sound filled with loss and longing, shaking his entire body.
He stayed there, unmoving, his head bowed as tears traced hot, stinging paths down his face. The world around him seemed to hold its breath, time frozen in a painful stasis. The whispering of the willow's branches brushed against the silence, a sound so soft it almost felt like your voice, gentle and familiar. Each rustle seemed to echo with laughter, the kind that had once filled this very space when you had spun around in carefree circles, hair catching the sunlight like spun gold.
The memories clawed at him, vivid and relentless. He could see you leaning against the tree, eyes bright with mischief as you teased him, daring him to catch you in a game only you understood. He could feel the warmth of your fingers entwining with his when you sat together, your touch grounding him in a way nothing else ever had. The way you would tilt your head, eyes searching his face as if he were the only thing in your world, made his heart ache with both joy and loss.
He remembered the mornings by the stream, where the sun would paint your features in gold, your laughter bouncing off the water as you splashed him and ran. The scent of wildflowers that clung to your hair, the soft hum of your voice as you sang under your breath while tending to your work at the bakery. Each memory pressed into him, sharp and bittersweet, until the weight of them made it impossible to move.
Time stretched endlessly, each second punctuated by the ragged sound of his breathing, each breath feeling like a battle to reclaim air. The quiet closed in, oppressive and suffocating, pressing against his chest until it felt as if it might shatter. The wind swept through the willow’s leaves, carrying the final notes of his broken cry into the void, leaving him in a silence so deep it threatened to consume him.
The minutes ticked by, or perhaps it was hours. He couldn’t tell; the line between past and present blurred in the flood of memories. His vision swam with the ghostly images of your smile, the light in your eyes, the way you would say his name, drawing out the syllables as if savouring them.
He stayed there, head bowed, the pain carving deep, unrelenting lines through his soul. The world remained unmoving, frozen with him, until the stillness itself seemed to breathe, waiting for something neither of them could name.
And then, cutting through the suffocating stillness, came a sound that made his breath catch.
“Hyunjin?”
quite a long one :3 i actually wrote this story a while ago and then deleted the whole the thing and restarted 😀 this version is actually so much better tho it just took me foreverrrrrr 🥲 BUT ANYWAYSSSSS I hope you guys enjoy it and please tell me what you think :) OH and pls let me know if u find a mistake somewhere!
Summary: You and Felix have been together for three years, so he decides to take you on a date that revisits your past.
It was Felix’s idea, and he’d been planning it for weeks, adding small, thoughtful touches to make the night unforgettable. On a warm, breezy Friday evening, he parked outside your office just as the sun was beginning to dip in the sky, casting a golden glow over the street. As he waited, he ran a hand nervously over his shirt, making sure everything was just right.
Finally, he saw you step out of the building, your face lighting up as you spotted him. You walked over with that effortless grace he loved, your hair catching the light and framing your face in soft waves. As you approached, he reached over to the passenger seat and lifted a bouquet of your favourite flowers toward you. They were wrapped in pale pink tissue paper with a small satin ribbon tied around the stems, just the way you liked them.
Your eyes widened in surprise as you opened the car door. “Felix, what’s all this?” you asked, your voice full of delight as you climbed into the car and settled into the seat. You took the bouquet gently, lifting it to your face to breathe in the soft, sweet scent.
Felix grinned, his eyes warm as he watched your reaction. “Just a little something for the person I love,” he said with a playful smile, reaching over to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “And... I was thinking we could go back to where it all began.”
Your lips curled into a knowing smile. You leaned back in your seat, twirling one of the peonies between your fingers as you looked at him with a mix of affection and curiosity. “You mean the coffee shop on Rose Street?” you asked, your voice soft and filled with memories, as if you could already see yourselves sitting there, just as you did three years ago.
“Exactly,” Felix replied, reaching over to squeeze your hand gently. He felt a familiar thrill at the touch, a warmth that hadn’t faded even after three years together. He shifted the car into gear and pulled out onto the road, your fingers still entwined.
As he drove, you began to reminisce, laughter and warmth filling the car like a cocoon around you. Felix brought up the first moments of that evening, how he’d stood outside the café for a good ten minutes before working up the courage to walk in, rehearsing his opening line in his head.
You laughed, shaking your head in disbelief. “Really? You seemed so calm and collected,” you teased, squeezing his hand. “I never would’ve guessed.”
He let out a sheepish laugh, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your hand. “Trust me, I was far from calm. I was so distracted I could barely focus on my coffee. I kept thinking I’d mess it up somehow, like maybe I’d say the wrong thing, or you’d think I was boring. But then…you started telling me that story about the stray beagle you tried to adopt when you were seven, and all my nerves just melted away. I knew right then that we’d get along.”
Your cheeks flushed, and you chuckled, covering your mouth as you recalled the story you had shared with him that night. “Oh, you mean the one where I tried to sneak a neighbour’s dog into the house and pretended he was a stray so my parents would let me keep him?”
Felix laughed too, shaking his head. “Yes, exactly. That’s when I knew you were something special—this mix of sweet and bold and just the right amount of mischievous. I could’ve listened to you talk all night.”
You looked down at your entwined hands, your smile softening. “And you…you had this quiet way about you, like you were listening to every single word. You looked at me like I was the only person in the world.” He paused, glancing at you with a tender smile. “You still do.”
You felt your heart swell, and he lifted your hand to his lips, brushing a light kiss across your knuckles. “That’s because you are, Felix.”
The rest of the drive was filled with the warmth of shared memories and soft laughter, each story making you feel as if you were falling in love all over again.
When you reached the café, Felix parked the car and quickly stepped around to your side to open the door, his hand outstretched as if he were holding something fragile and priceless. You took his hand, feeling the familiar warmth of his grip as he helped you out. For a moment, you stood there, side by side, taking in the sight of the little coffee shop on Rose Street, its windows softly glowing in the early evening light.
Felix looked over at you, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Ready to go back in time?”
You smiled back, and you walked toward the entrance, hand in hand. Stepping inside, you were immediately enveloped by the warm, rich scent of freshly ground coffee, mingled with the faint aroma of vanilla and cinnamon from the pastries in the display case. The coffee shop hadn’t changed at all in three years—the same wooden tables, mismatched chairs, and bookshelves lined the walls. The hum of conversation from other patrons filled the cosy space.
Felix led you to the corner booth near the window, the same one you had shared on your first date. It was a small, intimate spot with just enough space for two people to sit close, overlooking the street outside. As you slid into your old seats, Felix’s grin grew wider, his eyes twinkling as if he were holding onto a delicious secret.
You looked around, taking in the nostalgic setting, your heart fluttering with memories. “This place…it feels exactly the same,” you murmured, tracing your fingers along the edge of the table. “Do you remember how nervous we were? I could barely keep my hands from shaking.”
Felix chuckled, reaching over to place his hand over yours. “Oh, I remember,” he said, squeezing your hand gently. “But look at us now. Three years later, and I’m still sitting here wondering how I got lucky enough to find you.”
Your eyes met, and for a moment, you both fell silent, wrapped in a feeling that needed no words. The waitress arrived, breaking the spell, and without even glancing at the menu, Felix ordered your old drinks: a hot chocolate for himself and a chamomile tea for you, just as it had been that first night.
As you waited for your drinks, Felix slipped a hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small, folded note. “Remember this?” he asked, his voice soft but tinged with excitement.
Curious, You reached for the note, unfolding it slowly. Your eyes widened, and you let out a soft gasp as you took in the small, hand-drawn cartoon of a floppy-eared beagle, a familiar detail from the kidnapped beagle story. Underneath, in Felix’s handwriting, were the words “Our First Memory,” with a tiny, delicate heart drawn just above the dog’s head.
“You kept this?” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. You looked up at him, your eyes glistening. “All this time?”
Felix’s expression softened, and he nodded, his gaze steady and warm. “I’ve kept everything,” he said quietly, his fingers tracing yours on the table. “Every note, every ticket stub, every little memory. I want to remember every little thing about us. I never want to forget even a single moment.”
You felt your heart swell, overwhelmed by the tenderness in his words. You looked back down at the drawing, your fingers brushing over the lines of the little beagle, drawn with such care and love. This wasn’t just a reminder of your first date—it was a symbol of everything Felix had come to mean to you.
Your drinks arrived, and as you lifted your cups in a small toast to each other, you couldn’t help but think of how far you'd come, from the nervous excitement of that first date to the deep, steady love you shared now. Felix took a slow sip of his hot chocolate, his eyes never leaving your face, and you felt a little flutter in your chest, just as you had three years ago. You could feel the weight of his gaze and gave him a playful smile over the rim of your cup. you knew at that moment that no matter how many years passed, this memory—and every other memory you'd built together—would be cherished for a lifetime.
You lingered over your drinks, letting your conversation drift naturally between reminiscing and laughter. Felix brought up little details you had forgotten, moments you hadn’t realised he’d noticed. “Do you remember how I nearly spilled my coffee?” he said, grinning sheepishly. “I was so distracted that night, trying to focus on what you were saying, but all I could think about was how I’d never met anyone like you.”
You laughed, covering your mouth as you remembered. “Oh, yes! You were gripping that mug like it was a lifeline!” you teased. “I actually thought you didn’t like me, you were so quiet.” you paused, your eyes dancing as you looked back at him. “And yet here we are.”
Felix reached across the table, taking your free hand in his. His thumb brushed gently over your knuckles, a simple touch that made your heart skip. “I was nervous because I liked you so much. And then…” He chuckled, leaning back a little, “you started laughing, and I was done for. I still remember your laugh from that night—how you tried to hide it with your hand, like you were embarrassed.”
You rolled your eyes, blushing. “I was! But then I saw the look on your face, like you were seeing something amazing. I don’t think anyone had ever looked at me like that before.” You glanced down, feeling the warmth spread through your body, then looked back up at him with a soft smile. “I think that’s when I started to fall for you.”
You continued talking about that night, each detail unfolding like pages in a cherished storybook. Felix told you how he’d noticed the way your eyes sparkled when you laughed, how your voice softened when you talked about things that mattered to you, and how when you left the café that night, he’d already known he wanted to hold your hand, even though he was too shy to make the first move.
As you finished your drinks, Felix leaned in, his voice low and sincere. “That night…I knew it was only the beginning. And now, every time I’m with you, I feel the same way.”
You squeezed his hand, your heart full. “I feel it too.”
You sat in quiet contentment for a moment, watching the café come to life around you, the other customers and clinking glasses a comforting backdrop. Finally, Felix took your hand again, helping you up, and together you left the café, stepping out into the evening light.
The sky was painted in soft hues of pink and gold as you began your walk to the park just a few blocks away. You walked in a companionable silence, hand in hand, as the sun dipped lower, casting a warm glow over the trees that lined the path. The air was crisp and tinged with the faint scent of autumn leaves. As you strolled along the winding trails, Felix pulled you a little closer, wrapping his arm around your shoulders.
You meandered down paths you had walked three years ago, paths where you’d once laughed nervously, unsure of where things would lead. But now, you walked with an ease and familiarity that only time and love could bring, each step feeling as natural as breathing.
As you reached a clearing where the last light of day settled over the lake, Felix stopped and turned to you, a warm, tender smile on his face. He brushed a stray hair from your cheek, his fingers lingering just a moment longer than usual.
“Three years ago, I didn’t know what life would be like with you,” he murmured, his voice soft. “But now…I can’t imagine my life without you.”
You looked into his eyes, your own heart full as you leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. “Neither can I,” you whispered.
You continued your walk as the last rays of sunlight faded, your hands entwined as naturally as if you had been made to fit together.
As you strolled along the path, the world around you grew quiet, the soft rustling of leaves and the gentle hum of crickets filling the air. The evening light faded to dusk, casting a peaceful glow over the park. Eventually, you approached a secluded spot where a small pond lay nestled among trees. The water was still, reflecting the fading colours of the sky above, and a faint mist rose from its surface, lending an ethereal beauty to the scene.
Felix slowed, glancing over at you as if gauging the perfect moment. He gently squeezed your hand, bringing you to a stop beside the pond’s edge. The serene quiet seemed to stretch between you, amplifying the sound of your heartbeat, and for a moment, you simply stood there, wrapped in the warmth of each other’s presence.
Finally, Felix turned to face you, his expression tender and serious. “I have one more memory for us to make tonight,” he said, his voice soft but carrying a depth of emotion that made your heart skip a beat.
Your breath caught, your pulse quickening as you saw him reach into his jacket pocket, your mind racing with the possibilities of what this moment could hold. Your eyes widened as his hand emerged, holding a small velvet box—a box that, even before it opened, seemed to hold a thousand promises. You could feel your heart flutter wildly, your gaze locked on his face as he took a deep, steadying breath and with a graceful certainty, dropped down onto one knee.
The world around you faded, leaving only the two of you together. His gaze fixed on yours with such love and vulnerability that your eyes filled with tears. In the soft glow of dusk, Felix looked up at you, his expression a beautiful blend of hope and devotion, but you could see the flicker of nerves in his eyes, a touch of uncertainty that made him all the more endearing.
“Y/n,” he began, his voice steady but thick with feeling, “for three years, you’ve filled my life with laughter, love, and more happiness than I could ever hope for.” His hand, still holding the box, trembled slightly as he spoke, his gaze never leaving yours. “You’ve made me feel more understood, more whole, and more alive than I ever knew I could be. I want to keep walking this path with you—for as many years as you’ll have me.”
He opened the small box, revealing a delicate, shimmering ring nestled inside—a perfect symbol of the life he wanted to share with you. The diamond caught the fading light, casting a small glimmer between you, but you barely saw it; all you could focus on was Felix, his face filled with so much love and hope.
“Will you marry me?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, each word carrying the weight of his love for you.
Your heart overflowed, your hand flying to your mouth as you took in the depth of his words, the sincerity in his gaze. Your vision blurred with tears, and you nodded, a joyful, choked laugh escaping you as you found your voice. “Yes,” you whispered, your voice full of emotion, then, louder, “Yes, Felix. Yes, I’ll marry you!”
A radiant smile spread across his face as he rose to his feet, and you threw your arms around him, holding him tightly as he slipped the ring onto your finger. You stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, feeling as if the world had stopped just for you, as if time itself wanted to savour this perfect moment.
In that quiet spot by the pond, as the first stars appeared in the sky above, you shared a gentle, lingering kiss—a kiss that promised a lifetime of memories still to be made, side by side.
As you sat down, wrapping your arms around each other, time seemed to slow, as if the whole universe was holding its breath to honour the moment you had just shared. The soft glow of the fading sunset bathed everything around you in warm, golden light, casting long shadows across the ground. The trees whispered in the breeze, their leaves rustling gently, as though nature itself was quietly celebrating their love.
Felix held you close, his cheek resting against the top of your head, the warmth of your body pressed against his. You sat in peaceful silence, the air between you filled with unspoken words. There was something so right, so completely perfect about this moment. It was as if you had circled back to where it all began—this very path where you’d walked together three years ago, sharing tentative smiles, shy glances, and stories of your lives. Now, you sat side by side in the stillness, your hearts beating together, knowing you had just created something even more special.
You leaned back slightly, your fingers gently tracing the edge of the ring on your finger, still overwhelmed by the beauty of what had just happened. You looked up at Felix, your eyes soft and filled with emotion. He gazed back at you with the same tenderness, the same love that had been there from the very beginning. There was no rush, no need to say anything else. In that quiet, sacred moment, you understood that you had just created another memory on this path—a memory to join all the others that had led you here, to this place where you had chosen to build your future together.
It was as if the entire evening had been a beautiful thread, weaving together your past, your present, and your future. The setting sun, now sinking below the horizon, cast its last rays over you, and you realised that this memory would too be one you carried in your hearts forever. Just like all the others—your first date, your first kiss, the moments of joy and challenges you had faced together—it would stay with you, a constant reminder of how far you had come and how deeply you loved each other.
Hi hiiii, 2nd fic kinda nervous. This wasn't the one I thought I was gonna post but I felt like the other one was taking too long to finish so I decided to just post this one for now :3 This one actually has a happy ending since I managed to break all your hearts last time 🥲 I hope you guys enjoy it!
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