chenle’s gf @mafiadad5 - Tumblr Blog

Teach me to not love || L. HC (part 2)

𐙚 fuckboy!haechan x fem!reader (ft. best friend jaemin)

𐙚 Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 + bonus epilogue

𐙚 synopsis- Jaemin's out for revenge after Haechan slept with the girl he liked. You're just supposed to be a distraction, something pretty to keep Haechan's mind off of what Jaemin was doing. He's cute, addictive— you should stay away... you really should, but when he touches you like that how are you supposed to remember what's right?

𐙚 genre- college au, smut/ porn with plot (MDNI 18+), angst, slight fluff.

𐙚 warnings- drug use, alcohol use, pool sex, fingering, handjob, car sex, protected and unprotected sex (don’t do), oral (male receiving), degrading, praising, markings, rough sex, hair pulling, choking, sex under the influence, mentions of death.

𐙚 W/c- 17k

Now playing: Do I Wanna Know?- Arctic Monkeys

a/n- thank you all so much for the love on the last part, i appreciate it <3. Here’s part 2, I hope you enjoy it ! Let me know what you think, and if you want to be tagged in the final part! Luv y’all.

tags- @dnylwoo @haeclips @millis-diary @bbhbungee @sooohey @captainchrisstan @chocojiji @imnotrosiee @meatballsub420

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Tuesday — 12:03 PM

The apartment was too quiet.

The kind of quiet that made you hyper aware of every small sound. You sat cross legged on the couch in one of Jaemin's old hoodies, something he'd left months ago and you never returned, not even after Sunday's fallout. It still smelled faintly like his cologne, and you hated that it made your chest ache.

Two days— no texts, no calls, nothing from him, not a single word. And you weren't about to reach out first. Not when he'd called you a slut to your face.

Still, that didn't mean it didn't hurt— it stung deeply. A thousand small wounds under your skin that kept reopening every time you thought about the way he looked at you before slamming your door. Like he didn't recognize you.

You picked at your cuticles and tried not to think about it anymore, tried to redirect your focus, but then your mind went somewhere else you didn't expect.

Haechan.

His name echoed in your head in a way that was more frustrating than comforting. You didn't know why it lingered— why he lingered. You weren't supposed to care about him, you were supposed to have a one night thing and be done with it. That's what people did, right? Hook up and move on?

But you couldn't forget how warm his hands felt, how easy it was to laugh with him, how his voice went all soft and low when he said your name. And yeah, maybe you liked the way he kissed you too much, the way he touched you like he actually wanted you, not just your body. And that sucked because clearly he didn't care.

You chewed your lip, staring at your phone sitting face up on the armrest beside you. He hadn't texted, hadn't followed up, nothing. You weren't dumb, you knew what that meant.

You exhaled slowly and then against your better judgment you tapped his name and hit "call."

It rang... and rang... and rang.

No answer.

You let the silence settle after the last ring before locking your phone and tossing it face down onto the couch beside you. That was it then, whatever little thread you thought existed between you and Haechan had snapped the second he walked out without a second thought. He gotten what he wanted, you were just another girl in the pile.

You leaned back and stared at the ceiling, blinking against the heat behind your eyes.

"Stupid." You mumbled to yourself. "So fucking stupid."

8:04 PM

Your phone buzzed on the coffee table, screen lighting up once, twice, before your heart jolted.

Incoming Call: Haechan

You sat up slowly, phone already in your hand, staring at it like it might vanish. Then you pressed accept before your nerves could get the better of you.

"Hello?"

"Hey." He said, casual as ever. "You alive?"

You frowned, heart pounding. "You're calling me now?"

"What do you mean now? What, was I supposed to set an alarm?" He teased, voice light, and infuriatingly charming.

"You missed my call earlier."

"Did I?" He said, not even trying to sound apologetic. "My bad."

You scoffed a little, but before you could call him out, he continued.

"You wearing anything decent?"

Your mouth parted, caught off guard. "Excuse me?"

"Decent." He repeated. "Like, sexy. I wanna go downtown tonight."

You blinked. "That's the definition of decent?"

"For me, yeah." He said, and you could hear the grin in his voice. "C'mon, you in?"

There was a pause, then quietly: "Yeah."

He didn't miss a second. "Cool. I'll come at ten."

The knock at your door made your heart jump. You checked yourself one last time in the mirror, smoothing your skirt down over your thighs and adjusting the neckline of your top. You looked good, better than you had all week.

You opened the door, and Haechan was standing there, looking way too good for someone who called last minute. Black pants, dark shirt with the top buttons undone, a silver chain around his neck. He gave you a quick once over, eyebrows lifting with clear approval.

"There she is." He said, pulling a cart from his pocket, setting down a brown paper bag with two canned drinks inside. "Pregame?"

You hesitated for only a second before nodding. The drinks were stronger than they looked, and so was the cart. By the time you were calling a car, the tension in your shoulders had dissolved into laughter and warm energy.

The city was alive— neon lights, music spilling out of bars, and people moving in along the sidewalks. You and Haechan moved together, going into bar after bar, sampling drinks, snacks, cheap cocktails for no reason at all.

At one bar, you tried to pay for your fries and drinks, but he didn't let you.

"You know I can pay for my own stuff, right?"

He barely looked at you, handing over his card. "Congratulations, i'm happy for you."

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't help laughing. Everywhere you went, it felt like your own little bubble, Haechan's hand on your lower back, his voice in your ear, the two of you stumbling out of one bar, arm in arm, drunk and giggling.

You ended up in the shadowy corner booth of the last bar, pressed against each other, tasting the cocktails on each other's mouths. His hand was on your thigh, your fingers curled in his shirt, you didn't care who saw.

"Let's go." He murmured against your mouth.

The door slammed shut behind you, but neither of you noticed. You stumbled together through the hallway, laughing into each other's mouths, kissing with the kind of urgency that made you dizzy. Hands fumbled with buttons, tugged at belts, pulling fabric free until your shirts and pants hit the floor in a trail behind you.

He pressed you back onto the bed, his mouth warm on your neck, then your collarbones, then lower. You could feel his smile against your skin, each drag of his tongue making your breath catch.

"You've been driving me crazy all night." He murmured between licks, his voice low. "The way you looked at me across the table like you already knew I'd end up here."

You laughed, fingers curling in his hair. "Maybe I did."

His hands gripped your hips, his mouth exploring the line of your stomach. "You kept crossing your legs like that," He went on, lips brushing just above your waistband, "like you didn't want me to notice, but I noticed."

You gasped softly as he nipped at your skin, his fingers slipping beneath your underwear. "Do you have a condom?" You asked.

He paused for just a second. "I don't." He murmured, mouth still grazing your skin. "Doesn't matter though. I want you so bad, I don't care."

You froze slightly, hand on his shoulder."It does for me." You said softly. "If there's no condom, there's no sex."

He pulled back a little, brows raised. Then he nodded once and sat up, not annoyed, just neutral. "Okay."

You watched as he grabbed his shirt from the floor, sliding it over his head.

"You're leaving?" You asked quietly, still half naked.

He didn't look at you as he reached for his phone. "Yeah, gonna get going."

"You sure you don't wanna stay?" You tried again, a hint of something soft in your voice.

"I'm good." He said simply.

Your stomach twisted a little as he made his way to the door. You thought it was over again— done and dusted, just another night, but then he paused at the doorway, turning back to glance at you.

"You coming to the party Thursday?"

You blinked, caught off guard. "Am I invited?"

He smiled, that same crooked grin. "Always." Then he turned around, tugged the door open, and called over his shoulder: "See you Thursday, Y/n."

The door clicked shut behind him.

══════════════════════════

The music's already echoing down the block when you pull up, muffled bass thudding through the humid night air. You hesitate for a second on the sidewalk, adjusting your shirt. No one's waiting for you, no one knew you were coming except him, and you hate that it feels like you're chasing someone again.

Still, you push forward.

You step inside and it hits you instantly— everyone is half naked.

Swim trunks, bikinis, sun hats and cheap sunglasses. You blinked, trying to process what you'd just walked into.

And then you saw him. Standing near the kitchen with a beer in one hand and his head tilted back in a laugh, his tan skin glowing beneath the party lights. His swim trunks clung low to his hips.

Of course he spotted you... of course he grinned.

He was walking toward you in seconds, weaving through the crowd. You didn't even try to pretend you weren't watching him. You were and so was every other girl in the room.

He stopped in front of you, raking his eyes over your outfit with a smirk.

"Damn." He said. "Didn't get the memo?"

You crossed your arms. "Maybe because the person who invited me didn't mention it was a beach themed party."

He raised an eyebrow. "You blocked me."

You blinked. "What? No I didn't, text me right now."

He pulled his phone out casually, his thumb tapping a message, and seconds later your phone buzzed.

Haechan [11:37 PM]:

"I lied. Let's drink."

You looked up at him, trying not to smile. "You're actually insufferable."

He handed you a red cup anyway. "And yet, you're still here."

You took the drink. "Barely."

He held up a gummy between two fingers. "Edibles?"

You hesitated, then shrugged and opened your palm. "Might as well."

You popped it in your mouth and washed it down with the drink, already feeling yourself loosen. The lights felt a little warmer, the music easier to sink into.

And then without warning he grabbed your hand and pulled. "Come on." He said.

You didn't ask where, you just followed. He led you through the kitchen, past half naked bodies, through the back door and into the yard. The pool shimmered in the dark, glowing from the lights beneath the water. No one else was out here, just you and him.

Then he let go of your hand, took a running start, and leapt into the pool.

The splash was loud, water flying everywhere, and when he surfaced he was grinning like a kid— hair slicked back, skin wet and glistening under the moonlight.

"Get in." He said, laughing.

You stared at him. "I'm literally in clothes."

He shrugged. "So? You've got a place to crash and you can wear my clothes."

You tilted your head, amused. "Do I really?"

His hand shot out of the water, splashing you right in the stomach.

"Oops." He said, with a smile. "And now you're wet."

You blinked at the spot on your shirt, then looked back at him, biting back a smile. "You're an idiot."

"Still waiting."

With a quiet breath, you kicked off your shoes and stripped slowly, just to annoy him, down to your bra and underwear. You walked to the edge of the pool and dove in.

The water was cool and soft against your skin. You came up with a laugh, flipping your hair back, and he was already swimming toward you.

For a while, it was just fun. You laughed, splashed, floated near each other in that slow haze where nothing really mattered.

Eventually, you drifted to the side of the pool and leaned back against the tile, catching your breath.

Then you saw him coming, that look on his face— those eyes.

He glided through the water until he was right in front of you, hands sliding underwater to your waist. You let him pull you closer, your arms slipping up around his neck without even thinking.

He looked at your mouth. His voice came low, barely audible over the hum of the distant music. "Your lips look soft right now."

You laughed. "There's people inside, we might get caught."

He leaned in, mouth ghosting over your jaw. "They know to leave me alone."

That's when his eyes flicked past your shoulder toward the patio door. He paused before smirking.

You turned, confused and then saw him.

Jaemin.

He stood behind the sliding glass door, face unreadable, just staring. You can't tell what he's thinking— his arms crossed, his jaw tense, but his eyes were locked on you like he was burning holes through the glass.

Haechan smirked, head tilting slightly. "An audience already? You were right."

You freeze, caught between the temperature of the water and the sudden chill in your spine, but Haechan's fingers curled under your chin, gently turning your face back to him.

"Focus." He said softly.

Before you could blink he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours softly, but quickly it deepened. His hands slid down your body, his lips leaving yours only to trail lower, pressing open mouthed kisses along your jaw, then your neck. He lingered there, teeth grazing your skin as his breath tickled the sensitive spot beneath your ear. At the same time, his hand slid into your underwear with ease, fingers slipping through the heat and wetness he found there.

He teased you, slow circles that made your hips subtly roll toward him, aching for more. Then he paused, lifting his face from your neck, eyes locking onto yours. Still watching you, he pushed a finger inside. You let out a soft moan, your head falling back slightly as he began to move slowly, steady pumps that had you clinging to his shoulders.

He added a second finger, this time a louder gasp escaped your lips. His pace quickened, fingers curling just right, stroking that sensitive spot that made your vision blur. Pleasure crashes over you in waves, your body tightening around him as his touch brought you closer and closer to the edge.

You don't know what took over you, but your hand slides from the back of his neck, trailing down his torso, fingers slipping beneath the waistband of his swim trunks. You wrapped your hand around him, stroking slowly at first, trying to match the rhythm of his fingers still moving inside you. His jaw tightened, a low groan leaving his throat as you touch him, your bodies locked.

His breathing grows heavier against your neck, the muscles in his arm flexing as his fingers continue their rhythm inside you faster. Your hips grind into his hand instinctively, desperate for more. Every stroke sends heat spiraling through your core, your grip on him tightening.

"Fuck." He muttered against your skin, voice low. His lips brushed your collarbone, then your shoulder before he sunk his teeth gently into your skin. His free hand curled around your waist, pulling you tighter against him as his cock twitched in your palm. You can feel how close he is, how much restraint he's barely clinging to.

"Shit, keep going, just like that." He said, voice thick with lust.

You stroke him a little faster, your thumb brushing over the tip. His fingers grew more urgent inside you, thrusts rougher, curling with every motion until you're clenching around him, moans escaping your lips.

"Fuck, you're gonna make me cum." He muttered, voice rough now, his forehead resting against yours. "So fucking tight around my fingers."

The filthy sweetness of his words, the intensity in his eyes, the pressure building inside you pushed you even closer.

You could barely breathe now, every nerve in your body burning. The tension in your stomach tightened with each thrust of his fingers, each rough stroke of your hand around him.

"Fuck, baby." He panted against your lips, voice wrecked. "You gonna cum for me?"

You nod, unable to form words, only gasps and whimpers as his fingers drive into you fast. He curls them just right again, and your body falls apart, pleasure crashing over you like a wave. Your hips jerk as you tighten around him, your walls pulsing.

Your hand doesn't stop moving on him, if anything, you grip him tighter through the aftershocks of your orgasm, stroking him faster.

"Shit, just like that. Fuck, your hand feels so good— gonna cum baby."

You meet his eyes, dazed but focused, lips parted as you keep stroking. "Then do it." you whisper.

With a low, broken whimper, he presses his forehead to your shoulder, his whole body tensing. "Fuck—" His hips jerk as he spills into your hand, his cock twitching in your grip. You keep stroking him through it slowly as he breathes heavy against you.

For a moment, there's only the sound of your breathing, trying to return to normal. He finally lifts his head, eyes still dark, but softer now, a smile forming on his lips.

He leaned his forehead against yours with a breathless laugh, eyes half lidded.

"C'mon." He murmured. "You're not sleeping in wet underwear."

He grabbed your hand, tugging you out of the pool, water dripping from both of you onto the patio. He doesn't bother drying off before leading you through the back door and up the stairs.

His room is quiet, darker than the rest of the house. The walls were still humming with bass, but it's distant.

He lets go of your hand once you were inside and headed straight to his dresser, pulling out an oversized t-shirt and a pair of shorts.

"Shower's down the hall, second door on the right. There should be towels and wash cloths in there, but if not, yell."

You nodded slowly, taking the clothes from his hand.

Then he paused by the door, rubbing the back of his neck. "I gotta go back down."

You nod again, this time a little quieter. "Ok."

He lingered for a second, like he wanted to say something else, but then he just gave you a faint smile and slipped out.

The shower's quick, you pulled on his clothes afterward. You found your way back to his room, flipping the light off and sliding under the covers. The sheets are cool against your bare legs, and the noise of the party downstairs feels far enough away to pretend you're not still in his house.

But you can't sleep.

You lie there for what feels like an hour, eyes open, staring at the ceiling. Your thoughts spin, circling Jaemin's expression, Haechan's kiss, the way his fingers held your waist like he didn't want to let go. Everything feels like a dream, a really vivid reckless one.

The door creaks open and you sit up a little too fast. "Hey."

He steps inside quietly, running a hand through his hair as he closes the door behind him.

"You're awake?" He asked.

You nod. "Couldn't sleep."

He kicked off his shoes before sitting at the edge of the bed, glancing at you with a little grin. "Too many thoughts?"

You laugh softly. "Something like that."

There's a moment of silence between you, not awkward, just normal. He shifts onto the bed properly, lying beside you on top of the covers, hands behind his head as he stares at the ceiling too.

You glance over at him. "So... that was a scene earlier."

He laughed under his breath. "What, the pool?"

"No, you kissing me in front of that guy like that."

"Oh." He said, before turning his head to look at you, completely unbothered. "Yeah, that."

"You planned that?"

"Nope." He said casually. "But I saw him watching, figured it was the perfect time."

You squinted. "Why?"

He shrugged. "He doesn't know how to leave well enough alone."

You don't ask more, you don't have the energy to unravel anything, not tonight.

He turned towards you slightly. "You should get some rest."

You nod, eyes heavier now. "What about you?"

"I'm gonna shower, then maybe I'll crash."

He slipped out of the room again, and this time, you let your eyes close.

You woke up to sunlight creeping in through the blinds and the feeling of warmth beside you.

You blinked slowly, vision adjusting— and there he is.

Haechan was on his side, breathing steady, hair tousled from sleep, one arm slung casually over the pillow between you, lips parted slightly.

You sat up in a panic. "Shit. Shit— what time is it?" You fumbled for your phone, eyes wide... you missed class.

Haechan groaned beside you, blinking awake. "What's wrong?"

"I missed class. I never miss class— fuck."

He propped himself up on one elbow, rubbing his eyes. "Chill." He muttered. "It's one class, you're fine."

You groaned, falling back against the pillows. "Still, I was supposed to go."

He yawned, then stretches and finally asks: "You hungry?"

You paused, then a small smile broke across your lips. "...Actually, yes."

He reached for the nightstand, grabbing his wallet, flipping it open and pulled out a folded bill.

"Here." He said, holding it out to you.

You blinked at it. "What?"

"Take it, go get food." He sighed, smirking. "There's some good spots on the way back to your place from what I remember."

You finally smiled, taking the cash, folding it slowly between your fingers.

"Thanks." You said quietly.

He moved to the dresser, grabbing your clothes from last night and hands them to you, turning his back to give you privacy as you get dressed.

"What do you have planned today?" You asked, pulling your shirt over your head.

He shrugged, still turned away. "Not much. My brother's coming to visit, so we're just chilling."

"Oh." You say, tying your shoes. "That's nice."

He turned back around once you're ready, watching you with unreadable eyes.

You nod toward the door. "I'll head out then."

He just gave a small nod. "Ok."

And you leave quietly.

══════════════════════════

It was that time again— Thursday, the day you waited for all week. The day that had somewhere along the way become routine, a strange kind of comfort.

You showed up like always, stepping through the door and immediately spotting him across the room. Haechan met you with that familiar smile, only tonight it looked a little worn, like it was more out of habit than genuine ease.

"You ok?" You asked, your hand instinctively rubbing his shoulder. Your fingers pressed lightly against him, like you could ease the tension you already sensed.

"Yeah yeah, I'm just— can I talk to you for a second?" His voice dropped low, like he didn't want to be overheard.

You nodded, brows tugging together slightly. "Yeah, of course."

He led you upstairs, the floorboards creaking beneath your steps while the music from the party thumped under your feet. Once you were in his room, he shut the door behind you with a quiet click and let out a deep sigh. He didn't speak right away, just ran his fingers through his hair, shaking his head like he was trying to scatter his thoughts.

"Is everything okay?" You asked again, your voice a little softer this time.

"Just needed a fucking breather." His words were blunt, but not angry. He turned toward the door, checking that it was locked. When he looked back at you the smile was there again, this time stretched wider than before, too wide.

"If you came with me, they won't bother."

You tilted your head slightly, a playful smirk curling on your lips. "Who are you running from?"

"One of my best friend's brother." He started, pacing a little as he talked. "He's in town for a few days and of course he's gonna be at my parties, he's family, but something about him dude. He practically talked me sober, and that's hard to do— how did he even manage that? I just needed a break."

You giggled, crossing your legs on the edge of his bed. "You distressed over a party? Never thought I'd see the day."

He gave you a look, but it lacked any real irritation. "Would you kick out your best friend's sibling?"

You hesitated, shrugging unsurely.

"Exactly."

"No problem kicking out girls though." You muttered under your breath, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

His head turned toward you, eyebrows raised. "Yeah? You're right. Probably about to do it right now, actually."

"Do it then." You challenged, eyes narrowing.

He paused, his gaze hardening just slightly, a quiet tension rising between you. "Get the fuck out my room."

You blinked, caught a little off guard. "You serious?"

"What do you think?" He asked, eyes still locked on yours, tone unreadable.

Your chest tightened slightly as you stood, hesitating for a beat as you reached for the doorknob. You twisted it slowly, almost dragging out the motion like you were hoping he'd stop you. He didn't, not even a word.

You stepped into the hallway, the party noise rushing in like a wave, voices and music swirling around you.

"Y/n." You heard behind you.

You turned quickly. He was standing there again, keys in hand. "You hungry?"

You blinked, a bit surprised. "No... not really."

"I don't care." He shut the door behind him with one hand, shaking his keys in the other. "You're coming with me."

"Oh— okay." You followed him down the stairs, weaving through bodies.

"Wait at the door, I'll be right back." He said.

You nodded and did as you were told, leaning against the doorframe. Your phone buzzed and you looked down at it, just a meaningless notification, but when you looked up again, your eyes landed on Jaemin. He was walking toward the porch, and your stomach dropped slightly.

Your eyes met. There was a flicker of recognition, of something. His mouth opened slightly like he wanted to say something, but before he could,

Haechan was there sliding in beside you and grabbing your hand. His fingers laced into yours.

"Alright, let's go." His voice was loud enough for Jaemin to hear, and you watched as Jaemin's gaze dropped to your joined hands, then back to your face. He didn't say anything, just walked past with a blank expression.

You looked down at your hand in his. "This is new."

"Relax." Haechan said, lips tugging into a smirk as he let go of your hand once you made it to the car.

You climbed into the passenger seat, adjusting your bag on your lap as he started the car. The engine roared louder than expected, and the ride was... bumpy, literally.

"You're kind of a bad driver, you know?" You teased, pulling out your lip gloss from your pocket.

"It's the road, not me." He shot back, one hand resting lazily on the steering wheel.

"Sounds like something a bad driver would say." You started applying your gloss, only for the car to hit a bump, your hand jerking, smearing the gloss down your chin.

"Shit, Haechan." You turned toward him groaning as he just laughed.

"Do you have napkins in here or something?" You asked, flipping open the glove compartment. Inside, a few napkins... and a box of condoms still sealed.

You paused, taking a deep breath. "Really?" You said, holding the box up.

"Eyes on the road, sweetheart." He said, completely unfazed.

"I'm not the one driving!"

"Ok, you call me a bad driver, but then want me to take my eyes off the road? What kind of sense does that make?"

"Haechan—" You glanced between him and the road. "We're at a red light."

He bit his lip, clearly holding back a laugh as his eyes flicked over to you.

"Yeah, what now?" You said, narrowing your eyes.

"I was in the store and I thought about you, so I decided to pick them up."

You scoffed, dropping the box back into the compartment and slamming it shut. "Wow, how refreshing. You thought about me and instead of, hmm, flowers or something, you bought contraceptives. Is that why you invited me out— you just wanted to fuck?"

"I could do that at home." He said plainly, pulling into the parking lot.

You went quiet, stunned at the bluntness of it. "Whatever."

He pulled into the space and stopped the car, hands still on the wheel.

"Listen." He said, turning slightly. "I actually wanted to go out with you. If you're just gonna bitch and moan about what you think I want, then we can just get into the backseat right now and get it over with. If not, then let's eat— I am starving, impatient, and too fucking sober."

You swallowed. "Ok." You said, quieter this time.

"Ok." He repeated, flipping off the ignition.

You followed him inside, a low lit bar with creaky booths and laminated menus. You slid into a booth together, menus in hand.

"What do you want?" He asked.

"I'm not really hungry." You said with a shrug.

He didn't blink. "What do you want?"

You sighed. "Okay, um... I'll just take whatever you're having."

"I'm getting a burger and fries, it's pretty big— are you sure?"

"I'm taking some from your plate, so I'm sure." You smiled innocently.

"Uh uh. Just get your own."

"Feels better knowing it's yours though. It'll taste better."

"Whatever." He muttered, already flagging the waitress. "Do you actually want my food? I'll get a large basket of fries."

"That would be nice." You said softly, a small smile tugging at your lips.

The order was placed, and for a while, you just sat there in the buzz of low music and clinking glasses.

"So." You broke the silence. "You like flowers?"

His eyes narrowed slightly, like he was trying to figure out where you were going with it.

"You, um— you had a lot in your backyard. And in your room, some plants too."

"You're observant." He said, sipping his drink.

"It doesn't take much effort to just pay attention to someone."

He nodded once, like he didn't disagree. "Yeah, I like flowers. It's been a hobby. Peaceful, nerdy, I guess."

"It's kinda cute." You said in a smile.

He chuckled. "Yeah? What's your favorite flower?"

"I don't know... you should teach me."

"About flowers?" He asked, amused. "That sounds like a setup. Who really doesn't know their favorite flower?"

"Setup to what?"

He didn't answer, just shook his head again.

"I guess I just like all flowers." You continued. "I like the ones in my favorite color, the color matters more to me."

"And what's that?"

"Red, pink too."

"So roses— why didn't you just say that?"

"That's like... the most basic answer. I had to be different."

He shook his head, a smile on his face."You are... surely something else."

"What's your favorite?" You questioned.

"Sunflower." He answered simply.

"Why? Those die fast."

"They only die because people don't take care of them. From what I'm hearing, you're one of those people."

"Hey, don't get mad at me. I asked you to teach me, remember? You said I was setting you up, don't throw a tantrum."

His head tilted, eyes squinting. "Yeah, how'd you know they die fast if you don't know about flowers?"

"I just guessed." You shrugged defensively.

Your food arrived shortly after. He pushed the fries toward you. "Help yourself."

You frowned. "Where's the sauce?"

He blinked. "What sauce?"

"You don't eat sauce with fries?" You questioned.

"No, they're good alone." He said, lips in a thin line.

You raised your eyebrows. "They're basically raw fried potatoes."

"They're fried, that's flavor enough." He said in a shrug.

"You're out of your mind."

"You're out of your mind." He repeated.

You waved down the waitress for sauce, shaking your head in disbelief.

The meal continued and between bites and sarcasm, you found yourself studying him— how his expressions changed, how casually he sat.

"I still can't believe you eat fries raw."

"Everything's better raw." He said, licking salt off his thumb.

You blinked. "Yeah, of course you say that you freak."

He grinned. "I didn't even— I'm just being honest."

Your head tilted with curiosity. "Why are you so into that anyway?"

"I just am. I don't know. I like the feel, the look— it's hot.” He hesitated for a moment. "What about you— what are you into?"

"I don't know." You said honestly. "I've only had sex with you."

"You don't have any fantasies in that pretty head? I didn't put any in there?"

"Nope. You probably took some off my list, honestly."

"Me? I took some off your list?" He leaned in slightly.

"You're not as good as you think, you know." You said.

"I'm not?" He challenged.

"Nope."

"No?" He turned towards the waitress. "Excuse me, can I get the check please?"

"Uh uh." You said, shaking your head.

"Okay." He smirked, tossing his card on the table.

"Okay." You taunted, mirroring his smug tone.

He slid his card back into his wallet, then turned to you. "Let's go."

You stepped out into the warm night air, the echo of your footsteps quiet against the pavement. He followed behind you closely, but not rushing. You stopped at the passenger side of the car, fingers brushing the handle, waiting for that familiar 'click', but it didn't come.

Instead, he brushed past you with that maddening calmness, heading for the backseat. He threw you a sideways glance, the corner of his mouth lifting.

"You started it." He said lowly, before pulling the back door open and slipping inside.

You laughed under your breath, glancing around the nearly empty parking lot, then at the car's tinted windows. With one last glance over your shoulder, you opened the door and climbed in after him, shutting it behind you.

He was already waiting, leaned back against the seat, legs spread just enough to make a point, eyes heavy on you as you crawled into his lap. His hands went to your hips instinctively, but he didn't pull you in yet.

He leaned closer, lips parting, but you pulled back just slightly, a teasing smirk on your face.

"Oh, you're teasing?" He asked, a laugh caught in his throat, eyes flickering to your lips and back.

"Maybe." You answered in a light giggle, fingers sliding up his chest, soft and slow, settling at the side of his neck. You rubbed your thumb along his jaw, letting your lips hover over his without quite touching.

He let out a low, amused breath. "I promise." He said, voice dipping. "I will get the last laugh."

His hands slid down your back, gripping your ass as you finally leaned in, closing the distance between your mouths. The kiss was messy, tongues tangling together. You broke away first, breathless, trailing your mouth down his neck. It started soft, but quickly grew rougher. You sucked harder, kissed deeper, and when you found that spot— the one that made his whole body flinch, you didn't let up.

His breathing grew heavier, his voice catching in his throat as a gasp slipped out. You kept going, grinding slowly in his lap while your mouth worked that sensitive patch of skin, drawing out more moans from deep in his chest. His hips bucked beneath you, hands gripping your waist harder.

"G— get a condom." He gasped out, voice filled with need.

You lifted your head, lips swollen, red marks already blooming along his neck. You nodded wordlessly, turning to reach for the glove compartment. You opened the box, grabbing one before turning back around, but before you could get settled, he moved fast.

In one quick motion, he spun you around, pushing you forward. You let out a startled breath, your confusion turning into a sharp gasp as he tugged down your jeans and underwear in one firm motion, then landed a stinging slap to your ass.

"Wha—?" You started, but he was already pulling you back adjusting your hips, lining himself up behind you. You felt his cock, pressing at your entrance.

"Don't move." He murmured, tearing open the condom behind you. Then his hands gripped your hips tightly as he slid in slowly, filling you inch by inch. A moan escaped your lips at the stretch, the pressure, the feeling of him completely inside you. He groaned right behind you, forehead pressing into your shoulder for a moment.

Your hands found his thighs, trying to stabilize yourself, breath shaky. Then you felt his hand slide up your torso, settling at the base of your neck. Slowly, he wrapped it around your throat.

"Move." He whispered in your ear. "Ride me, show me how bad you want it."

You began to move slowly at first, rolling your hips against him. The stretch still had your legs shaking slightly, but the ache felt good, addictive. His grip on your throat tightened just a little, not enough to hurt, just enough to remind you who was in control.

You pushed yourself up a little, grinding down on him, adjusting your angle. The reaction was instant, his free hand digging into your hip guiding your rhythm, not letting you escape the pace he wanted.

"Fuck." He muttered, eyes locked on where your bodies met. "Look at you— taking all of me like that, feels so fucking good."

You moved faster now, riding him with more purpose, each bounce pulling moans from both of you. His grip on your throat slipped up, fingers tangling into your hair, tugging your head back just enough to expose your neck to him again.

"Think you can tease me, huh?" He growled, lips brushing your ear. "Look at you now—moaning like a slut in the backseat. You love this shit, don't you?"

"Yes." You gasped barely able to speak, each thrust now hitting that perfect spot inside you. Your fingers dug into his thighs, desperate to stay grounded, your body already close to unraveling.

He pulled you flush against his chest, one hand gripping your jaw now as he pounded up into you. "Say it again."

"Yes— fuck, yes I love it." You choked out, your voice cracking on the edge of your orgasm.

Your body tensed, heat exploding in your stomach. Your thighs quivered around him as pleasure overtook you.

"Oh my god." You gasped, voice cracking.

You clenched around him, your body shaking violently as the orgasm rolled through you in powerful waves. You could barely breathe, your nails digging into his thighs, holding on for dear life as you rode out every last pulse.

He groaned loudly, his control completely slipping at the feel of you squeezing him so tightly.

"Shit, I'm gonna—" His hips snapped up, body tensing as he came hard inside the condom, curses spilling against your shoulder. You felt the pulsing throb of him inside you, your bodies jerking together in a final desperate grind.

The sound of your gasping breaths filled the space, sweat slicking your bodies, your thighs trembling as you stayed draped over him.

You both took a moment to collect yourselves before slipping back into the front seat, clothes adjusted, hair smoothed. Your breath hadn't fully settled yet, and your thighs still ached faintly.

He leaned back in the driver's seat, exhaling slowly as he ran a hand through his hair then he glanced over at you.

"Did you drive to my house?" He asked, his voice low and casual.

You shook your head. "No, called a car."

He nodded once, turning the key in the ignition.

"Why?" You asked.

"So I can take you home." He replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Oh." You hesitated. "I'm not going back to your place?"

He turned his head toward you, brows raising slightly. "Do you want to?"

Your lips parted, caught off guard by the way he asked. God you did, not even just for the sex or the comfort of his bed, you just wanted more time with him. Wanted to be near him even in the quiet moments when nothing was happening.

"Um... it's up to you." You said softly, eyes dropping to your lap.

"Uhh..." He paused, his gaze drifting toward the windshield like he needed help finding the right words. "Just go home. You'll probably just be alone if we go back to my place, so... kinda pointless."

"Oh." You nodded, swallowing down the small lump forming in your throat. "Okay."

You tried to smile, tried to keep your expression neutral, but the edges of it faltered before you could stop them, and you looked out the window to hide it.

He turned back to look at you, studying your face for a long second. Then his hand reached out, warm as it cupped your cheek. His thumb brushed lightly along your skin before he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, like he was trying to make up for what he couldn't say.

"Let's get you home baby." He murmured against your lips.

"Okay." You offered a small smile, this time a little more real.

The rest of the ride passed mostly in silence, the kind that wasn't quite comfortable, but not heavy either. You leaned against the window, watching the city blur by in streaks color and lights.

Finally, he pulled up in front of your apartment building, shifting the car into park. "Here we are." He said, glancing over at you.

"Thanks." You said quietly, fingers already curling around the door handle.

You opened the door, the night air rushing in to meet you, cooler than you remembered. You stepped out, shutting it gently behind you. He waited a minute longer before driving off, and you stood there for a second longer than you needed to, watching the taillights disappear down the street.

You didn't really want to go inside, but you did anyway.

══════════════════════════

Life's been... okay.

Not terrible, not amazing either. Just somewhere in that weird middle space that never really feels like enough.

You haven't spoken to Jaemin at all— not since that night, and he hasn't spoken to you either. At first, it felt like a breath of fresh air, not having someone hovering, asking for things, pushing for more, but lately the silence has crept in. You missed him, missed the way he always showed up, even when you didn't ask. How he brought you your favorite food every time you were sick, how he took your side even when you didn't deserve it. He was constant in a way that no one else had been.

You guess that's over now, at least until he decides to grow up and apologize.

You were lying on your bed, eyes on the ceiling, mind wandering as it usually did. The morning sun streamed through your blinds, warm on your skin. Your phone buzzed beside you, you just turned your head lazily.

Haechan... of course.

This was the part of your life that made it "okay." Not boring, at least. It was always the same cycle with him: He'd ignore your calls during the day, always calling back at night asking to hang out, or to just hear your voice because "he missed it." You rarely saw him during the week except Thursdays, when you showed up to whatever party he was hosting.

But you liked him, you liked him more than you wanted to. You didn't know why you were so pulled in, why this routine made your life feel fuller. Maybe it was the way he always felt like a distraction you wanted to get lost in.

You answered the call, putting it on speaker as your phone rested on your stomach.

"Hello." You said.

"Hey, precious. How are you?" His voice had that familiar smoothness, like he was stretched out somewhere with the sun on his skin.

"I'm good. How are you, Haechan?" You replied, voice soft.

"I'm okay."

"You didn't answer my call yesterday." You said.

"Yeah, I was busy. I'm free now though, and I really wanna go watch the sunset at the beach tonight... and get high."

"Then go do that, baby." You said dryly.

"I wanna do it with you. I rented out a beach house for the night."

"I wasn't invited, so have fun." You joked.

"You were invited."

"I didn't hear a 'Y/n, I would love for you to come to the beach with me, please.' Now did I?"

He laughed. "Wow, you want to hear it that bad, huh?"

"Yep."

"Alright, well I guess I'll see you when I get back then."

"Woww." You said dramatically. "I can really tell how much I mean to you. Whatever, what's today?" You swiped your screen. "Friday, 10:34 AM. I have class in like two hours anyway."

"You can miss it."

"I can't keep missing class, Haechan." You said, sighing.

"You're smart, grades are still good from what you told me. So why does it matter?"

"You always do this. I can't keep skipping out just because of you."

"Oh, so now it's my fault?" He said, voice playful.

"Yeah, it is."

"Well then, I take full accountability. And I'm about to take full accountability for doing it again. Please, I want you there with me."

You sighed, staring at your ceiling for a moment. "Okay, fine."

"Yeah?" He asked, you could hear the smile in his voice.

"Only because I want to watch the sunset on the beach."

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be there in thirty. Wear something comfy, we've got a bit of a drive."

You hung up smiling, already rolling off your bed to pack your overnight bag.

The drive was long, but the windows were down, and the music was loud. His hand found your thigh more than once, lazily rubbing circles there when he wasn't steering or rolling the blunt he promised to light later.

By the time you got to the beach house, the sun was out, bright in the blue sky. The place was beautiful, right on the water with a private stretch of sand.

You put on a swimsuit and he changed into his own. Swim trunks hung low on his hips, a silver chain glinting against his sun-warmed chest. It was impossible not to stare.

Soon, you were both down at the beach, waves kissing your ankles as you ran through the shallow water. He chased you, dramatic and loud, lifting you off your feet and tossing you into the water as you screamed. You splashed him back, water dripping down your face as you laughed like a child.

You played for what felt like hours— kicking through the water, jumping into the waves, lying side by side on the wet sand.

As the sun dipped lower, melting into the ocean in shades of purple and orange, he was deeper in the water, you just at the shore sitting on the sand as waves hit your legs.

"Come here." He called.

You nodded, floating towards him. "Yeah?" You questioned.

He pulled you close, wrapping your legs around his waist and gripping the back of your thighs. "Just wanted you near me." He said, smiling.

You smiled, wrapping your hands around his neck. "The sun is setting."

"I know."

"You wanted to smoke." You said, your hand reaching to cup his cheek.

"I know." He said again, chuckling before pulling you into a kiss.

He pulled you out of the water and led you to the towel he'd laid out earlier. You sat down, and he lit the blunt with one hand, passing it to you.

"I like it here." You murmured.

"Me too." He replied, his voice softer now. "It's nice when it's just us."

You didn't say anything, just stared out at the horizon letting yourself think. This felt real. Like maybe, just maybe, whatever you two were building was starting to mean something. You didn't say it of course, but the thought lingered in your mind as the sun finally setting.

"You know." You said through the silence, as you both sat at the towel. The cool ocean breeze chilling your skin, waves sounding in the background as the moon reflected off the water. "I'm terrified of the ocean at night."

"Why is that?" He questioned.

"It's just, it's like a void. You can't see anything, what's beneath." You replied.

"You're scared of the dark?" He asked.

"I never said that." You giggled, hitting his arm playfully. "I'm just, things that seem, terrifyingly repetitive. Something so big that you don't know what's ahead of you."

He nodded.

"What about you— what are you scared of?" You questioned.

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Nothing."

"That can't be true. Everyone's afraid of something."

Everything was quiet for a long moment. He looked up at the moon, eyes reflecting.

"Commitment." He said finally, his voice low.

You paused for a second before turning to him. "Why?"

"Just to put your heart into something, your love, your soul, just to be disappointed and let down. It's terrifying don't you think?" He said, the contact never breaking from the moon.

"It is." You agreed. "But if you spend all your time thinking about how it might go wrong... you'll ruin it before it even begins. That's not protecting yourself, that's self sabotage."

He paused for a second, eyes flicking down. "I don't think I can do it."

"Then what are you doing now?" You asked.

He paused, before he turned to you. He just stared into your eyes, saying nothing— but his eyes spoke a million words. You weren't sure what those words meant, but it was something. Then he looked away again, back toward the sea. You turned back too, looking at the stars as quietness settled again. You leaned your head on his shoulder, your fingers sliding into his as your hands met.

The drive back was full of laughter, music, the two of you playfully arguing about which snacks were superior and what song should play next. It felt good... normal. For a second you let yourself imagine doing this more often. Just... being with him.

But eventually, the ride ended. He pulled up to your apartment, putting the car in park.

You turned to him. "I had a really good time." You said honestly. "Thank you."

He gave a slight nod, lips pressing together. "Yeah."

There was a long pause, the engine still humming. "Just... call me or something." He added.

You hesitated. "You never answer when I do."

He paused, then licked his lips. "Just... take your chances."

You gave a small smile that didn't quite reach your eyes. "Okay."

And then you got out, closing the door behind you.

══════════════════════════

Your days had blurred together, a messy tangle of deadlines and group meetings. It was the busiest you'd ever been, and you hadn't even realized it was Thursday until your phone rang, yanking you out of a half dazed focus as your fingers hovered over your keyboard.

Haechan's name lit up the screen.

Your heart jumped before your brain could catch up. You had taken your chances just like he told you to. Called him on Friday...nothing. Sunday... ignored. Tuesday...same. After that you gave up, told yourself he didn't owe you anything. Still, he hovered in your mind constantly, a weight on your chest even when you were trying to write about something completely unrelated.

You swallowed, pressing the phone to your ear. "Hello?"

"Hey." His voice casual and unbothered. "Where are you?"

"Home." You said a little too flatly.

"Why are you not here?"

You blinked. "Why would I be?"

"To see me." He replied, like that should've been obvious.

"You haven't even been answering my calls." You said, trying not to sound hurt, failing.

"I was busy, what do you want me to do? Didn't know it fucking mattered that much."

You flinched slightly at the way his tone sharpened. "You told me to call and then you just left me hanging." You said quieter.

There was a moment of silence. "Can you just come?"

"No, I'm busy." You replied, firmer this time. "I'm working on a book report right now."

"That can wait."

"No, it can't. If you want to see me that bad, you come here."

"Can't. My friends are already on my ass about ditching my own parties."

You sighed, the irritation in your chest threatening to spill over. "Well, I don't know what you want me to do."

"Come." He repeated, more insistent this time.

"I really need to get this project finished, it's worth fifty percent of my grade, and I'm already slipping in the class."

"When's the due date?"

"In like... a month, but still—"

"Oh my god, Y/n." He let out a laugh, half amused, half exasperated. "You literally have time, just come over."

You bit your lip, hating how easily you crumbled. "Okay... but I'm not getting dressed."

"Fine with me." He said, like he was smiling. "See you in a minute."

You hung up the phone and just stared at the screen. You didn't know why your mind worked this way, why you kept doing this to yourself— shifting your priorities, pushing aside your own needs, just because he called. But you were already grabbing your bag.

The music was loud through the door when you arrived, per usual. Eyes scanning the crowd instinctively until they landed on him standing near the kitchen, drink in hand.

"You made it." He said, lighting up when he saw you.

"Yep." You smiled, letting him pull you into a brief hug.

"Fuck, can you take a shot with me?" He asked, eyes a little glassy. Definitely not his first drink.

"Yeah, sure."

You downed it in one gulp, the burn settling into your chest. The two of you talked like usual, until three guys came over, breaking the moment.

"Yo, what's up." Haechan greeted, dapping them up. "This is Y/n, yeah— you guys know."

You gave them a polite wave and a smile and they did the same, none of them offering names though.

"Dude, have you seen Jaemin?" One of them asked.

Your stomach dropped at the name.

"Nah, he just always fucking disappears." Another chimed in.

"He's here?" Haechan asked, sounding surprised.

"I'm not even sure anymore." The first guy muttered, looking around. "I'm just gonna go look for him and smoke."

"Without me? Shit, I'll come too." Another said, and the two of them disappeared, leaving one guy behind.

Haechan turned away to fix himself another drink.

"So, Y/n, right?" The guy said, leaning in a little closer.

"Yep." You nodded, keeping your voice polite.

"You're seriously really pretty." He said, smiling.

Before you could respond, Haechan turned around, giving him a warning face.

"Thank you." You said softly, trying to defuse it.

"You should spend your time with me tonight instead." The guy laughed.

"Dude, what the fuck?" Haechan snapped, fully turning now.

"It was just a joke Haechan, chill." The guy said, raising his hands.

"Some shit isn't funny, Mark." He muttered, before turning back around.

You touched his shoulder gently. "Baby, relax..."

He turned his head slowly to look at you, his expression unreadable. "Baby? Yeah, right." The words came out low and sharp.

Ouch.

He downed the rest of his drink and walked away without another word, disappearing into the crowd.

You stood there, caught in the awkward silence with Mark, your skin burning.

"I should probably..." You mumbled, gesturing toward the dance floor.

He nodded, and you slipped away. You looked everywhere— through the crowd, up the stairs, even outside in the backyard, nothing.

Finally, your feet brought you back inside, through the hallway, the same one where everything first started with him, and there he was leaning against the wall, head tilted back like he was trying to calm the storm in his head.

"Um... hello?" You said, stepping closer.

He looked over at you slowly. "Hello."

"What, you're embarrassed of me now? What the hell was that out there?"

He pushed himself off the wall, inching toward you. "No. No, I'm not." His voice was quieter now. "Listen, Y/n— baby, I'm just... he's so fucking annoying. Talking to you like that, like you're some kind of slut. You wouldn't do that, right?"

You blinked, taken aback. "Do what?"

"Fuck my friends." He said, his voice filled with distress.

You stared at him. "No, I would never do that."

"I know you wouldn't." He said quickly. "But he keeps bugging me, and I—" He trailed off, jaw clenching.

Before you could say more he reached out, pulling you into him by the waist.

"You need to calm down." You said, your voice soft, eyes searching his.

He didn't respond— at least not with words. Instead, he kissed you, hard and sudden, like kissing you was the only way to shut his thoughts up. Like it was the only thing that made any sense in his fucked up head.

The kiss grew rougher, needier— his hands tangled in your hair, your lips moving in sync. Then without warning he broke the kiss, pulling back just enough to look at you.

His eyes lingered on your face, dark and intense, you could feel your pulse pounding in your ears.

"Can you do something for me?" He asked, his voice low and almost too calm, like he already knew the answer.

You swallowed, your breath shallow. "What is it?"

He didn't answer, instead he gently took your wrists and guided you down, lowering you to your knees in front of him. Your heart thudded in your chest as you looked up at him, your hands resting lightly on his thighs.

"But..." You hesitated, eyes darting nervously. "What if someone sees?"

"No one will." He said firmly, his fingers brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

Your eyes flicked back to his, uncertainty flickering in your expression.

"It's—" You began, your voice quiet, almost unsure. "It's also my first time... doing this."

He looked down at you for a long moment.

"Don't you think we're a little past that?" He said. "You've already had me inside you, you want this."

You stayed quiet, your teeth catching your bottom lip as the weight of his words settled over you. There was truth in them, too much truth. You couldn't deny the heat pooling in your stomach at the way he looked at you now.

Slowly you reached up and began to unbutton his pants. He didn't move, didn't say a word, just watched you. Eyes dark, lips parted, waiting.

"You don't have to be perfect." He murmured, his voice suddenly softer.

You looked up at him again, nervous.

He let out a slow breath, his hand resting lightly at the back of your head, thumb grazing your cheek. "Go on."

You stared at him for a moment longer, lips parted, heart pounding.You leaned in slowly, hesitating for a moment, then pressed a tentative kiss to the tip.

"That's it." He whispered. "Just go slow."

You licked your lips, tasting him, then did it again— longer this time, feeling every twitch, every subtle response in his body. His muscles tensed under your touch. You could tell he was holding back, letting you set the pace.

You opened your mouth and took him in, just the head at first. His reaction was immediate, his hips jerking ever so slightly.

"Fuck... yeah, just like that." He muttered, eyes locked on you. "You're doing so good."

You pulled back, lips wrapping around him tighter, watching his reaction as you went lower again, taking a little more. Your jaw ached slightly, but it was drowned out. You were getting lost in the rhythm, his quiet moans, the way his hand cradled your head now, guiding you but never forcing.

His voice dropped. "Look at you... so pretty."

You started to move with more confidence now, hollowing your cheeks slightly, using your hand to stroke what you couldn't take. You let your eyes flutter shut for a moment, losing yourself, but he gently tugged your hair.

"Eyes on me." He said.

You looked up, mouth still wrapped around him, and the look on his face nearly made you melt, like he was barely holding himself together.

You took him deeper, relaxing your jaw, tongue pressing along the underside of his shaft. His hips jerked slightly, and this time he didn't hold back. His hand fisted in your hair and you could feel the shift in him, the restraint slipping, the patience wearing thin.

He looked down at you, eyes dark, lips parted breathing hard. "So eager now, huh? Acted all shy a minute ago, now you're drooling on my cock."

Your hand worked what your mouth couldn't reach, pace growing rougher.

"Look at you— on your knees. You love this, you love being used."

You whimpered, and he groaned low in his chest, tightening his grip in your hair. "That's it. Take it, fucking take it."

He began thrusting into your mouth with more force now. Your eyes watered, throat flexing around him as he pushed deeper, only to pull back and do it again.

"You feel so fucking good." He groaned. "You gonna let me finish in that pretty little mouth?"

You nodded the best you could, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as spit slicked your chin. He was getting close—you could feel it in the desperate sounds spilling from his lips.

"Keep going— don't stop." He muttered, thrusts erratic now.

Then his grip locked in your hair, his whole body tensed, and with a whimper, he came. You felt the heat of it hit the back of your throat, his hand holding you down just a moment longer as he rode it out, panting hard.

When he finally released you, you pulled back slowly, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

He looked completely wrecked— head thrown back, chest rising and falling fast, shirt pulled up halfway up his torso.

"You good?" He asked, eyes heavy lidded,

voice hoarse as he looked down at you breathless.

"Yeah, yeah." You said, catching your breath and clearing your throat, trying to steady yourself.

"C'mon, let's go upstairs." He mumbled, pulling his pants back up.

You followed him up, still in your oversized tee and shorts. You honestly thought he'd pull you right back into something the second the door shut behind you, but instead he headed straight for his desk, settling into his chair like nothing happened, opening his laptop.

You blinked, taking in the room, on his dresser sat a vase full of vivid red roses.

"These are pretty." You said, walking over to get a closer look, fingertips brushing the soft petals.

He turned just slightly, glancing over his shoulder. "Yeah, they were for you." He said casually, shrugging as he turned back to the screen. "But I thought you were gonna ditch me tonight, so I just put them up."

Your brows raised slightly, caught off guard. "Were they really?" You asked, warmth creeping up your cheeks despite yourself.

"Yeah." He said, a soft chuckle leaving him. "I don't like roses."

Before you could say anything else, he stood from his chair and walked over, motioning to the desk. "Here you go. Sorry if downstairs is a distraction, but I mean it's something, right?"

"What do you mean?" You asked, eyes narrowing in curiosity.

"You can work on your project." He said, motioning lazily to the setup. "It's online, I assumed, so just use my stuff to get what you need done."

"Wait, actually?" You asked, genuinely surprised.

"Yeah, no trouble at all. Do what you need to do. I'll just text you the user and password just in case and yeah, I'll be downstairs."

You watched him move to the door. "So you don't want me to just leave?"

"No." He replied. "Just work here. I might need you later."

"Oh, I see." You muttered with a small smirk.

"Well, I'll be downstairs if you need me." He said, then disappeared into the hallway.

You settled at the desk with a sigh, opening tabs, pulling up sources, your fingers flying over the keyboard as you got to work. Two hours passed before you even looked up again, then the door creaked open.

"Hey." Came a slurred voice behind you.

You turned around, catching Haechan stumbling slightly into the room. His shirt was wrinkled, hair messy, and his hand was wrapped around a red Solo cup.

"Hi." You said, standing instinctively, walking over to him, noticing how he swayed as he walked.

"I brought this for you." He said, holding out the cup proudly.

"Thanks." You replied with a cautious smile, taking it from him. You gave it a sniff and got immediately hit with the sharp burn of straight liquor. "Nothing more I love than a few shots of liquor to help me work."

He let out a loose giggle, clearly noting the sarcasm in your tone. "It stimulates the mind." He slurred.

"How much have you had, Haechan?" You asked, leading him carefully toward the bed.

"I dunno." He answered, grinning up at you with heavy eyes as he sank into the mattress.

"Ok, time to close your eyes and rest for a little." You said gently, brushing his hair back from his forehead.

"No, no, I'm good. I just came to check on you." He insisted, trying to sit up again. "I'm going to go drink."

He stood too fast, stumbling before falling right back into bed with a thud.

"Yeah, okay." You said with a small laugh, returning to the chair and the warm glow of the computer screen.

"Y/n." He called out suddenly from where he laid.

"Yes, Haechan." You replied, still typing.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Go ahead." You said, smiling slightly to yourself, already expecting something ridiculous.

"You don't, like— really like me? Like, actually like me, right?"

You paused, your fingers hovered over the keys.

Your chest tightened, air catching slightly in your throat. Of course you did, you liked him more than you wanted to admit, more than you could justify. And yet he made it so difficult— treating you like an afterthought one second and the only thing that mattered the next.

"Why?" You asked instead, turning slowly in your chair with a small, tired smile that didn't quite reach your eyes.

He sighed. "I dunno. They're all just like... making fun of me. Like, all my friends and stuff."

You frowned, turning back to the computer. "Is that so."

"Yeah, and—" He started, then just laughed quietly. "Can we kiss?"

You turned around again, rising to your feet and walking toward him. You leaned down, placing a soft peck on his lips.

You turned to leave again, but he reached out. "Wait. Can you lay with me, please?"

You paused, heart caught somewhere between affection and fatigue. "Ok, but promise you'll close your eyes and not speak if I do."

"I promise." He mumbled.

You shook your head with a smile, slipping under the covers. He wasted no time pulling you in, chest to chest, his arms wrapping snugly around your waist, his face nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

You ran your fingers slowly through his hair, holding him.

"You know—" He began.

"Haechan, shh." You whispered, eyes still closed.

"Sorry." He mumbled, and after that everything became silent.

His breathing slowed, and he finally drifted off, but you couldn't, not even with your eyes closed.

Your mind was a storm of questions, of feelings, of why he said things like that if he didn't mean them, why he pushed and pulled, how he looked at you like you mattered and then dropped you like you didn't.

You laid there for what felt like hours, the hum of the party now distant, muffled by the door. Then you heard footsteps, voices— a knock.

"Haechan, it's us. We're coming in to make sure you're not dead... stop us at any time if you don't want us to come in."

You were about to speak, about to let them know he was ok, but he was finally asleep and for once he looked peaceful. So you stayed quiet, eyes closed, pretending.

The door opened, laughter spilling in before it abruptly quieted.

"They fucking?" One of them asked, then a pause. "Wait, no. They're asleep."

"Haechan is in here cuddled up, what the fuck." Another voice muttered.

Then there was a second of silence and another voice broke through.

"Dude... he's so in love."

"Something like that." Another chimed in with a giggle.

And though your eyes stayed shut, your chest clenched tightly.

They left soon after, their laughter retreating down the hall, swallowed again by the hum of music and distant shouting from downstairs, but that one sentence didn't leave with them.

"Dude... he's so in love."

You laid still, your body locked in place, his arm still draped over your waist like it belonged there. Like it always belonged there, like he wasn't drunk and asking if you liked him just an hour ago, like he wasn't someone who made you question every other word he said, then undid you completely with a single glance.

Love.

They said it so casually, so easily. Like they knew something you didn't or maybe, something you were too scared to believe.

Your hand still rested in his hair, your fingers curled gently around the strands, and you debated pulling away, getting up, putting distance between your body, but you didn't. Because some part of you wanted to hold onto it, to him, even if it hurt.

Because that's what he always did to you, wasn't it?

He gave you just enough to keep you there. Just enough softness to believe he cared, but never quite enough to settle into.

You tried to tell yourself the alcohol was talking. That none of this was real, that tomorrow he'd wake up and probably tease you for cuddling him or pretend he didn't remember half the things he said.

Maybe he loved you in a way he couldn't say sober, maybe he only knew how to want you in pieces, maybe this was what love looked like to someone like him and maybe it was enough for someone like you.

You let your eyes close, pressing your cheek into the pillow. Not to sleep— your mind wouldn't let you, but just to stay still. To pretend for a second that it didn't matter, that you didn't care so much, but you did.

God, you did.

And somewhere inside you, the truth was slowly blooming like those roses on his dresser.

The room was still dark when your eyes opened. That hazy blue hour just before dawn crept faintly through the window.

Your body ached slightly from how you'd slept— curled against him, one of his arms slung heavy around your waist. You could feel his breath, slow and warm against your shoulder.

It almost made you forget everything... almost.

You shifted slightly, trying not to wake him. Just enough to stretch your legs or maybe find a less tangled position, but he moved almost immediately. His eyes fluttered open in a daze, and then widened slightly when he realized how close you still were.

He pulled back fast.

"Shit." He muttered, untangling his limbs from yours, sitting up and running a hand through his hair, still foggy, but clearly panicked.

"Sorry." You said quietly, sitting up too, pulling the blanket around you a little. "I didn't mean to wake you, I was just trying to stretch. Are you ok? You were really messed up last night."

His eyes flicked to you, but didn't linger. "I want to be alone." He said flatly.

You blinked. "It's really early." You said, voice soft. "I can just go sit at the desk or—"

"I don't care." He snapped, sharper now. "Just go."

It hit harder than you expected, the shift, the chill, the coldness where warmth had been hours ago.

You nodded slowly, swallowing whatever emotion was threatening to rise and stood. "Okay."

You barely made it to the door before his voice called out again."Get the fucking flowers."

You paused, turning slowly. "What?"

"I don't want them here." He said without looking at you.

Your eyes flicked to the dresser, the roses still blooming in the soft light.

"What about the vase?"

He exhaled through his nose, not quite a scoff, but close. "Take it." He said, his voice emotionless. "Just— take it. Get out."

You stared at him for a moment longer, trying to understand what just happened, trying not to let it show on your face, but you just nodded.

You walked back across the room, lifted the vase and left without another word.

The hallway was cold.

You hadn't realized how warm his room had been until you stepped out, vase clutched to your chest. The roses swayed slightly as you walked.

You moved down the stairs where empty cups and crumpled napkins were scattered, your fingers curled tighter around the glass. You didn't know why you took it— why you didn't just leave them there, why you obeyed so easily, like some part of you was still waiting for him to call you back again, but the silence behind you stayed silent.

You stepped outside, the early morning air hit your skin, you took a deep breath, walking to your car, placing the flowers beside you.

He held you like he wanted you, kissed you like he needed you, talked to you like he trusted you, asked you if you liked him, pulled you close and made you believe maybe just for a second it was real.

And then he told you to get out.

You swallowed hard, jaw clenching to keep the sting from reaching your eyes. You hated this part of yourself. The part that showed up every time he called, the part that wanted to believe his words even after his actions said something else, the part that still thought the flowers might mean something— even now, when he couldn't stand the sight of them.

You looked over at them, beautiful and unwanted— just like you.

You blinked away the blur in your vision, taking another slow breath. Then you started your car and drove away. Because what else could you do?

══════════════════════════

He was the only thing flowing through your mind.

You tried not to think about him, tried to focus on your projects for the next week, tried to drown your thoughts in deadlines, but during those quiet blind spots— when your hands paused on the keyboard, when your gaze drifted away from the screen, it was only him.

It didn't matter how hard you tried, he always found a way in.

Your thoughts had gotten the best of you... again. You texted— just a simple 'are you okay?' even after he hurt you, even after everything, but he never answered.

After that, you didn't call, you didn't try. You hadn't even gone to the party and he never called to ask why. It was pretty much over to you and maybe that should've been enough.

You replayed the scene in your head, skimming over every detail you could remember— how he shifted away from you, how his voice went cold, how he didn't even look at you. You tried to fathom what happened, replaying every word, every moment. Was it something you said? Something you did?

You wanted to just leave it. For him, yes, but more for you. For your own dignity, whatever was left of it. You felt embarrassed every time you thought about talking to him again. Embarrassed every time your mind wandered to his touch, his mouth, his company.

It was pathetic... you were pathetic, truly.

You were sitting in your bed, mind floating everywhere except the subject in front of you, while your fingers moved absently across the keyboard, then your phone rang.

You sighed, expecting it to be one of your roommates, maybe a spam caller, but it was him— Haechan, of course it was.

Of course he was calling after kicking you out. After ignoring your message when you were just checking in. Of course it was so easy for him to reach out after all this time. Or... maybe it wasn't. Maybe it was just as hard for him as it was for you. But you weren't the one scared to look like a loser. Either way, it was stupid.

Ignore it. Ignore it. Ignore it.

Your heart said, or maybe your mind. You weren't sure anymore, but you didn't listen.

To yourself, obviously. Not the call.

That— you picked up a little too fast. Like nothing even mattered anymore except him and maybe it was the case, and you hated that. You hated it so bad, but you couldn't change it, no matter how hard you tried, it was like a curse.

"Hello." You said quietly.

"Come over." His voice was hoarse.

You didn't fight it, you didn't ask why he hadn't reached out, didn't beg for an explanation or an apology.

"Like... right now?" You asked, voice catching slightly.

"Yes." That was it.

You looked at the date and time glowing on your computer screen: Saturday, 7:38 PM.

Your eyes flicked up to the file you were working on. Book report, due in three weeks. You had maybe 30 out of 75 pages done and barely the energy to finish another sentence.

You bit your lip in hesitation, then took a deep breath.

"Okay." You said quietly. "I'll be there in a few minutes."

He said nothing back, just hung up.

You got up immediately, grabbing your keys. The drive was quiet, your mind raced, heart even faster. When you got there, you knocked on the door and waited.

After a few seconds, it opened.

There he was, hair messy, eyes dark and unreadable.

"Hey." You said, offering a small smile, but he didn't say anything. He just stepped aside, letting you in, the door shutting behind you with a soft click.

Weird.

He walked to the kitchen without a word, pulling open the fridge and grabbing a drink, not even offering you one. You just stood there awkwardly, while he leaned against the island— probably the cleanest you'd ever seen it, his palms flat on the surface.

"You know..." He started, clearing his throat, still not looking at you. "Someone sent me a photo."

Your brows furrowed, confused. "What was it?"

"You." He finally looked at you then, and the look in his eyes made your stomach twist, like he was holding back something.

"A photo of me?" You asked with a nervous laugh. "Okay... what was it?"

He chuckled, but it was flat, empty. He reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, scrolled, and placed it on the counter without a word.

You moved slowly toward it, his gaze heavy on you as your eyes landed on the screen.

You froze. Your heart dropped straight to your stomach.

"Where— where did you get this?" You stammered, voice shaky.

"I'm assuming this was last year? At your old uni, right?" He said, tone thick with something you couldn't name— disgust, betrayal... maybe both?

"I— how did you get this?" You said again, voice trembling, lip starting to quiver.

"I didn't know you were a hardcore partier like that." He said, smile curling bitterly. "No wonder you can handle liquor like it's water."

He looked back down at the photo. "Did you lie about taking drugs too? Or was it actually your first time smoking weed? Cause... looks like you did other shit."

You stared at him, eyes starting to water.

You never forgot about your past, even though you tried. You thought you got away from it, left it behind, but now it was back. Slapped into your hands by someone who had already hurt you. Who was now throwing it all in your face like you deserved it.

"Who's this?" His voice cut through your spiral.

You didn't even have to look, you already knew who he was pointing at— the guy in the photo. The one with his arm around your waist, the one you were kissing.

"Someone I used to talk to." You said quietly, the most coherent thing you could get out.

"Oh, really?" He said, his voice filled with sarcasm.

"Why do you even care so much?" You blurted out, your voice cracking now, barely holding it together. "You don't even want me."

He paused, looking straight at you. "That's my fucking brother."

Everything in you went still, cold. Your lips parted, but nothing came out.

"Yeah." He said, tilting his head, expression dark. "Nothing to say now, huh? What the fuck is actually wrong with you? Do you even know what you did to him?"

"It was a mistake." You said, voice breaking. "I didn't mean to hurt him, I swear. I didn't do anything on purpose."

"You didn't mean to?" He repeated, louder now. "You didn't do anything on purpose? You took everything from him. Got him addicted to pills, addicted to you, and then what— just left? Like he meant nothing? He had to go to rehab, he almost died and it was just a mistake?"

"I'm— I'm sorry." You whispered, the words trembling out of you.

"Right." He scoffed. "Like that's gonna fix anything. He really liked you, you know. You were all he knew, all he loved and you just left him for dead."

Your throat was dry. You couldn't defend yourself, not really. You'd done things you weren't proud of.. hurt people and now it was all crashing back.

"So what now?" He said. "You thought you could play me too? What, did my sister do something to you, so now it's 'get back at the family one by one'?"

"No. No, I swear." You said quickly, stepping forward. "That's not what this is. I'm not playing with you."

He laughed bitterly. "Then what is this? You're a fucking hypocrite. You preach to me about commitment and what was it— self sabotage? But you can't even follow your own bullshit."

"I can now, I'm not that person anymore. I was just in a dark place, and I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I didn't care who I took down with me because I didn't even care about myself."

You stepped closer, eyes shining, voice shaking. "I'm not lying to you. You've seen it, you've seen how much I care. How much I need you."

"Yeah?" He questioned,voice low.

You were standing in front of him now, your hand reaching up to his cheek, gently touching him like you were scared he'd disappear.

He didn't pull away.

You whispered. "Please."

His breathing changed, slower. Like he was holding something in his chest he didn't know what to do with. His eyes searched yours, the space between the both of you had shrunk. And the way his jaw tensed, the way his hands gripped the edge of the counter like they needed to hold onto something— like they needed to hold onto you.

You could feel it, like the only thing left to do was move closer, or burn from standing still.

Something snapped.

He grabbed you suddenly, dragging you into him by the waist, his mouth crashing onto yours like punishment. It was messy, angry. His hands were already tugging your clothes down, fingers digging in like he wanted to rip right through the fabric. Your underwear was shoved down before you could catch your breath, and his pants were already halfway undone.

You gasped as he turned you around, chest slammed against the counter, your hands barely catching yourself. Before you could fully process it, he kicked your legs open wider with his knee as one hand shot up and wrapped tightly around your throat, fingers digging in just enough to pull your head back against his chest, your spine arching slightly under the pressure.

"If you want a condom, go to my car and get one." He whispered, voice low and rough.

You froze for a second, breath shuddering as his hand tightened slightly. Then, swallowing hard, you shook your head slowly.

"I'm fine." You murmured, voice barely audible.

"Pathetic."

Without warning, he pulled your hips back, lining himself up with your entrance, before pushing in all the way. A loud, sharp cry came from your lips as the sudden stretch overwhelmed you.

He didn't slow down or wait— just started thrusting hard and fast, pounding into you relentlessly, ignoring every sound you made.

He slammed into you harder, his hand tightening around your throat, fingers pressing cruelly against your skin, cutting off your air just enough to make your heart race.

"Look at you." He panted, voice dark. "Pathetic little slut, can't even handle something simple like this."

You gasped, the pressure in your throat making it hard to speak, but the pounding pushed deeper inside, and slowly your body started to adjust to him.

His thrusts grew harder, like he was losing himself in the moment, hips snapping into yours faster and heavier. His grip loosened for a brief second, fingers brushing your skin almost tenderly before tightening again.

You moaned louder, the pain fading as your body started to catch up with him, heat pooling deep inside.

His pace turned harder hips slamming into you with no rhythm now, just need. The hand around your throat suddenly released, only to tangle in your hair and yank your head back hard.

You cried out, not just from the pull but from everything— your body shaking, tears slipping down your cheeks without you even realizing.

He noticed, laughing slightly. "Pathetic. Can't even take it, crying like a little bitch."

His grip in your hair tightened as he drove into you even harder. "But you like it, don't you?" He snarled, voice louder now, strained with how close he was. "This is what you wanted."

"Yes." You gasped, breath hitching around a sob, your body arching into his with every rough thrust.

His breaths grew loud and uneven, voice breaking into low groans and occasional whimpers, like he was falling apart right behind you.

He let go of your hair suddenly, and your upper body collapsed forward, your chest pressing flat against the counter. Both of his hands clamped down hard on your hips, holding you in place as he drove into you deeper.

His fingers dug into your skin as his body started to tense, his thrusts becoming sloppy, the sound of his low whimpers mixing with your own moans.

"You're— fuck, so tight..." He choked out, voice cracking as he buried himself in you again and again.

His pace turned erratic, hips jerking forward like he couldn't stop himself, like his body had taken over.

His grip on your hips bruised, pulling you back into every thrust like he was trying to bury himself as deep as possible. His whole body trembled, his moans turning into whimpers.

You just moaned out softly beneath him as he lost it— hips jerking erratically now, hands clutching you like you'd disappear if he let go.

"Shit." He gasped, voice wrecked. "You feel so— fuck."

His whole body tightened, shuddering as he came hard inside you with a strained whimper.

He stayed still for a second, shaking, breath caught in his throat, still pulsing inside you.

You were right there— right on the edge, body tense and desperate, but then he pulled out suddenly and stepped back.

He laughed, low and cruel, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Aw, were you about to cum?" He said, mocking, breath still heavy. He pulled up his pants, voice cold again. "Too bad." He said before walking up the stairs with heavy steps, no backward glance.

You sat still for a moment, breath shallow, skin still warm from his touch, heart trying to piece together what this meant—if it meant anything at all.

Your eyes wandered, trying to find a single object in the room that would ground you. You stared at everything blankly, waiting. Maybe for him to come back and say something soft, something honest... anything at all.

Eventually, he did come back, but it wasn't what you expected.

His steps were quieter this time. No eye contact, no sigh, no hesitation, just a folded fifty dollar bill that he slipped into your hand like it was a transaction. Like this was something to close out, something to be done with.

"For the plan B." He muttered, eyes flicking to the side, avoiding your expression. "And for you to not say anything else. To just... just go."

You held the cash loosely in your fingers silent. The room blurred for a second, vision not quite focusing, but your body still moved on autopilot. You nodded quietly, not bothering to fix your hair or wipe your face.

You didn't cry, not yet. You didn't ask questions, you didn't fight, you didn't even look back.

You just left, the door clicking shut behind you.

The streets were quieter than usual for a Saturday night or maybe you just weren't really listening. Maybe the noise had dimmed around you, your mind doing that thing where it zooms out, pulls away from everything like it doesn't belong to you.

You drove to your favorite spot. That shitty little corner diner that stayed open late and never judged you for showing up in sweatpants or smeared mascara. You walked in and ordered the usual without thinking.

"Chicken tenders, fries, extra honey mustard." You said, voice small, like you were 12 again and just needed something familiar.

The cashier didn't smile, just nodded and took the crumpled bill from your hand— the same one he gave you.

You sat by the window with your tray, staring out at the parking lot as yellow lights buzzed.

You dipped a fry into the honey mustard, then stared at it before finally taking a bite. You weren't really hungry, not truly, but chewing helped. It gave your mind something else to do besides replaying what happened. What he said, the look on his face when he gave you the money.

You didn't even need the money for a morning after pill. You been on birth control for your periods for months now.

You thought about how it all started. How much you tried to bury the past, how much effort you made to grow, to become someone better. You weren't perfect— god, you knew that, but you were trying. You been trying, you wanted him to see that, you wanted him to see you.

But maybe he never really did.

You sat there for a while, eating slowly, the food growing cold on the tray in front of you.

══════════════════════════

You were sitting at home a few days later, just working, thinking, trying hard not to think.

$60 for a Plan B and for you "not to say anything else and just go" what the fuck.

Your phone buzzed, not a call, just a text.

Haechan [10:39 PM]:

"U home?"

Literally— what the fuck.

You were confused, stuck, you just wanted clarity, something solid, something that would tell you where his mind was, where his heart was. You were too scared to ask, too scared you'd scare him away if you pressed too hard. But this? This was getting ridiculous.

You [10:42 PM]:

"Why?"

You texted back. Okay, yeah. Maybe not the hardest stance you could've taken, but this was your definition of standing on business. Who were you kidding? You couldn't even ignore the text for more than five minutes.

Luckily, he didn't answer. Maybe that was your answer— the real one. Maybe silence told you where you stood with him more than anything else. But then again, his actions said something different. The way he held you, the way he looked at you sometimes. You couldn't help but feel like he did care, like maybe he loved you even just a little.

Or was that just you projecting? Was this your idea of love? Was this what you were settling for— and if it was, did that mean this was what you were worth? Because honestly, it didn't feel like it. But then... sometimes it did.

Right before your thoughts spiraled any further, three shallow knocks hit your door. Your expression twisted slightly, confusion brushing over your face. You stood up from your bed, slowly making your way to the front door, opening it. Of course... there he was.

You just sighed.

"What are you doing here?" You asked, eyes narrowing slightly.

He didn't answer right away, just looked over your shoulder into the room. "Your roommate's home?"

"No, one's gone for the weekend, and the other's out with her boyfriend. Why?"

"Can I come inside?"

"Why? Don't you hate me?"

He just chuckled soft and dryly, then silence. He didn't answer, and neither did you, you just stepped aside and let him in. He moved past you, settling on the couch as you shut the door gently, walking over slowly.

"Tell me everything." He said, turning to look at you. "From your side."

You didn't have to ask what he meant, you already knew.

"Well.." You started, taking a deep breath. "I was doing fine before. I had friends here, I was making straight A's— it was never really hard for me. Then my mom died, and that took a big toll on me."

"Where's your dad?" He asked.

"Hell if I know." You looked up at him. He just nodded in response, saying nothing.

"So, yeah, I was alone. I had people— my best friend since childhood actually, but I still felt so lonely. So I decided to take a break from here and just leave. I went to school in a different state."

You paused, gathering the words that still sat heavy in your chest. "It started off fine, I mean as fine as it was gonna get, but then my best friend started getting distant. He always cared for me, but he started doing his own thing— making new friends and everything. It hurt because I needed him... I loved him."

"You loved him?" Haechan asked, brows slightly furrowed.

"Yeah, a lot. I, um... he came to visit me early on when I moved, and I told him how I felt, but he rejected me— told me he just wanted to mess around with people and not be locked down. And yeah, that hurt... like a lot. I guess I thought he felt the same... he acted like it. And when he started ignoring me after that? That's what really messed me up."

You looked down at your hands as you kept going, your voice quiet, but steady. "So I ended up making new friends. Not great ones. I started partying, trying to fill this empty void in my life. Got addicted to the lifestyle. One party, someone offered me weed, and that was a big no for me because — duh." You let out a small, self deprecating laugh.

"But then they introduced me to pills. That felt different, not the same thing as weed in my head, so I did it. I drank, I did drugs, barely went to class, but when I did..."

You paused, tilting your head back, staring at the ceiling. "It just seemed like he was always waiting for me, like he was the only one who didn't judge."

"My brother." Haechan said quietly.

You nodded. "He was obsessed with me. Like I was the most precious thing in the world— no offense to him." You looked up, waving your hands a bit.

"I was just... confused, confused why. He didn't even know me, but he kept trying, and I was at my lowest.. at a point where I felt like no one else wanted me, not even my best friend— so I gave in. We texted. I wasn't always great at responding, I was always out doing shit, complete opposite of him. He was smart, focused, kind and I was basically nothing. But even then, he still wanted me, so much that he started doing what I was doing and I didn't think anything of it. Just another guy to me. No offense... again."

Haechan chuckled lightly, shaking his head. "Just finish."

"He started partying, harder than I did even. Started drinking like me, taking the pills I took and honestly, it was fun. He made me feel like I wasn't the only one who was falling apart. Like we were nothing together." You shook your head slowly.

"It's so messed up, but I didn't know better. Stuff happened between us. Not sex!" You blurted out. "I'm... well, was saving myself. And yeah, I liked him a bit. He felt like commitment, like the only one I could count on to stay."

You exhaled, the weight of your own memories thick in your throat.

"Then my best friend just... came back. Completely out of nowhere, acting like I was the world to him. Telling me to stop doing drugs. I don't know what changed, maybe he was scared I wouldn't come back for summer. Which, I really wasn't going to. But he asked me to visit at least, just at the beginning of the summer and I agreed."

You kept going, not pausing now, just unraveling it all.

"So I went back home, stayed with him. Then he tried to do some rehabilitation bullshit on me or whatever. Told me he'd help me change, and would 'fix' me. I was hysterical. I felt betrayed. He left me, I got like this, and now he wanted to act like I was a project. Like I was just some druggie or party whore who needed saving, which I guess I was." You laughed softly, sadly.

"I told him I had someone who cared about me— someone who loved me, but he said it wasn't love. That I needed to focus on myself, not a boyfriend, and I believed him. I cried in his arms and I stayed. I got sober, started fresh over for the summer. Then... he begged me to just stay permanently, said he wanted to keep an eye on me, make sure I was okay."

You looked at Haechan then, eyes softer now. "So I did. I told my best friend I needed to explain to your brother what was going on, that I wanted to stay in contact. But he told me to leave the past behind, that he'd just get over it. So I left, no reason, no goodbye, just silence. I had no idea what happened to him after. That he got addicted, that he went to rehab, I just assumed he'd move on too. I tried to reach out again at the beginning of this year, but I was blocked, rightfully so."

You looked at each other, silence.

"Is that why you're still with me?" He asked, voice quiet. "You get treated like shit, but you know I care enough. You feel guilt... so you allow it, right?"

His voice cracked slightly. "Is it guilt?"

You looked away, eyes trailing up toward the ceiling. You bit your lip hard before turning your gaze back to him.

"I really do love you." You said, voice almost a whisper, eyes glossy. "Is that all you wanted to hear?"

He nodded, once. "Yeah." He said softly.

Silence again, but not empty. The moonlight shined through the blinds, his eyes glinting the reflection as you two stared at each other.

Then slowly, he leaned in. His hand reached up, gentle against your cheek, thumb brushing the side of your face like he was afraid you would flinch.

It wasn't rushed, it wasn't desperate, it was soft— slower than either of you expected. You kissed him back, just as slow, just as quiet, your hand curling slightly into the fabric of his shirt.

When he pulled away, he stayed there for a moment. His forehead nearly touching yours, his breath warm, eyes glassy.

He cleared his throat, scooting back slightly. "I should probably get going." He said, voice low.

"Yeah." You nodded.

"Okay, I'm about to leave." He said, not moving an inch.

"Got it." You smiled a little, lips still tingling.

"Right now." He said again, like he needed to convince himself.

You leaned in, giving him one last kiss, just a soft peck, but it lingered.

"Go." You whispered against his lips.

He finally stood, walking to the door, you following behind him.

"If you get the chance, would you tell him to unblock me?" You asked, voice low but sincere as he reached for the doorknob. "I really want the chance to apologize... check on him personally."

He paused, his hand still on the door, then he turned just slightly, glancing back at you over his shoulder.

He gave a small nod. "Yeah." Then after a moment, quieter: "Just... call me or something."

You let out a tired chuckle, shaking your head gently, a half smile tugging at the corner of your mouth.

"Yeah." You whispered, more to yourself than to him.

And then you closed the door behind him, the soft click echoing in the quiet room.

══════════════════════════

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