Ghost of You | c.sc
pairing ➳ ex!scoups x fem!reader
synopsis ➳ you broke up with him on a storm-soaked night, uttering words you can never take back. five years later, in a foreign country, fate places him in your path again. suddenly, he is a client of your company and you have to work with him. nevermind that he absolutely hates you. nevermind the unsaid things that lay beneath.
genre ➳ e2l, ex high school sweethearts, ANGST, smut.
wc ➳ 11k + 600 (patreon bonus)
warnings ➳ toxic relationship, cheol is an ass, reader is lowkey depressed, a LOT of miscommunication, drinking, bar violence, classism, dysfunctional family, mention of a motorcycle accident, mention of alcoholism, heavy make outs, hate sex, female degradation, marking, unprotected sex, bathroom sex, no aftercare.
a/n: if I fumbled Seungcheol, I'd straight up kms. 😔
A punch comes flying from your left, hitting the creep hard on the nose and sending him to the floor with a loud thud.
“Fuck!” He yells, cupping his nose.
“She clearly said no. Multiple times.” The deep voice booms from behind you, and it feels hauntingly familiar. Your entire body freezes, and you cannot bring yourself to turn around, petrified of the face that awaits you.
You are suddenly more terrified of a mere voice than a drunk stranger forcing you to go home with him. It’s because this voice comes with so many memories; memories that haunt you every day, and you shove them down only for them to spring back up when you are alone in your bed at night.
The man comes to stand next to you, peering at your face in the low lights of the bar. “Are you okay?”
You had a couple of drinks, so in the back of your mind, you were praying that your tipsiness had you mistaken. That hope is crushed when you look up at him, your eyes locking with his. The man’s face changes, recognition setting in, and almost instinctively, he takes a step back.
“Seungcheol.” You whisper, uttering the name you have not dared to whisper in almost five years.
—
5 YEARS AGO
“I think that it is best that we break up.” You announce, your voice louder than usual, so that he can hear you through the pouring rain. Your boyfriend stands in front of you, soaked to his bones, and it takes all of your self-control not to extend the umbrella over his head and usher him inside your shabby little dorm.
No, you need to be cruel tonight.
“I don’t understand,” he pleads, his eyes frantically searching for yours. “What did I do wrong?”
You love me. You love me too much, Seungcheol.
“I don’t like you anymore. You are so...burdensome.” You hiss, trying your level best to keep your voice steady. “You know I am going abroad to get my degree. This won’t work anyway.” You grip the handle of the umbrella tightly with both hands, directing all your energy at the flimsy plastic.
“You are joking, right?” He whispers, but you hear him. You vividly see the desperation in his eyes despite the darkness of the night, and you wish he knew how much worse you feel.
Gathering all your resolve, you take a step back. “Delete my number, Seungcheol. Don’t contact me again. I thought I owed you this much. Goodbye.”
You don’t stop, you don’t look back. You don’t know how he looked as he watched you leave, and you are thankful for that. You could not bear to see him in any more pain. More than that, you are glad he cannot see you, your crumbling facade as big droplets of tears rolled down your cheeks.
—
The bouncer escorts the drunk creep away after Mingyu, Seungcheol’s friend—once upon a time, your friend too—explained the situation.
You and Seungcheol are yet to speak to each other, quietly watching the yelling man get escorted outside.
You should leave.
Your feet are frozen, however, and you are not sure what the best way is to get out of here. Should you just run outside and not look back? Or should you strike up a conversation before leaving?
“Well, look who it is.” Seungcheol decides to speak finally. With every passing second, his lips curve into something sharper than a smile, his eyes laced with venom and delight.
Yeah, this is not going to end well. Then again, what did you expect?
“Hi.” You whisper, looking away. The less you speak, the better.
Seconds pass. He keeps staring at you like a hawk before bursting into a belly laugh of mockery. “Really? Hi? That’s all you have to say after so many years?”
“I think I should leave.” You state, your voice firmer. Avoiding his eyes, you step past him to get your purse from the stool, ready to dash for the door.
“You haven’t changed, have you?” He asks, his voice deep and grave, stopping you in your tracks. “Always the coward. Running away. Go on, run away, little sheep. That's the only thing you can do.”
You turn your head to look at him. His eyes flash with hatred and mischief, his cruel smirk turning into a nasty, predatory grin, laced with tipsiness as he shifts his weight from foot to foot.
He is drunk. He is picking a fight with you. You need to leave.
Mingyu comes at his side, making sure he does not lose his balance. His friend’s eyes meet yours, apologetic, nonverbally telling you to just leave for the better. You turn away with determined steps.
“For fucks sake!” His voice booms, garnering attention from others. You are once again forced to look at him. His droopy stature and the haziness in his eyes tell you he is drunk, and you know drunk Seungcheol very well. That is when he becomes his most stubborn self.
“The least you can do is thank me!” He yells, his body leaning forward as Mingyu struggles to stabilize him. “Hyung, please.” He whispers, getting him to stand upright. From somewhere, a woman comes rushing, immediately putting her hands on Seungcheol to check on him. Blond hair, tall, thin, and pretty—you get the message.
With one last look at Seungcheol, you walk out of the bar.
—
On Monday morning, your supervisor, Daisy, steps into the office a little late, but she has that smile plastered on her face that tells you good news awaits.
Looks like she has finally secured the deal.
Last week, she announced that the company has a chance of taking on a very big client, and judging by the look on her face right now, you can tell that the client is secured. On any other day, you would be brimming with excitement to know who this VIP client is finally, but after the happenings of Saturday night, a perpetual gloom has overtaken you.
You should not have gone for a drink that night.
The memories of Seungcheol still linger, stitched to your skin and carved in your mind, leaving you restless ever since. One thought leads to another, and before you know it, your mind is occupied by the thought of him only. It is a vicious cycle.
It is not fair. Why did you have to bump into him out of all the people in the world? And why did it have to be a bar thousands of miles away from home? What was he even doing there? Should he not be back home in Seoul? He has a business to run after all.
From beside you, Seungkwan, your co-worker pipes up, “What has got you smiling like that this morning, boss?”
Daisy laughs. “Our client is on the way, folks. Meeting room in five minutes.” She points at you, Seungkwan, and Yoona. “You three are on the team with me.”
“I see you are still keeping the suspense.” Yoona pouts.
“You bet,” she winks, sitting down at her desk. You smile, watching your coworker’s reaction as you gather your notebook, pens and other necessary documents before heading to the meeting room.
As Seungkwan sets up the projector, Daisy takes a seat opposite you on the meeting table, keeping the head chair empty.
“What’s wrong with you?” She asks, setting down her tablet, her gaze narrowed at you. “Normally, you would be the most enthusiastic. Is everything okay?”
You sit up straighter and clear your throat. “Yeah…I just did not have a good night’s sleep.” You reply. She does not seem convinced, but decides not to push you further.
Five minutes later, Choi Seungcheol walks into the meeting room.
—
The project is a market expansion campaign.
Choi Industries is now looking to enter the European market, and to get the job done, it seems they found your marketing firm to be the perfect ally. This is your worst nightmare—no, something worse than your worst nightmare. What cruel ploy of fate would lead to this, you and he working together in a foreign land?
The meeting is tedious and painfully slow.
You do your best not to make eye contact with Seungcheol or even look in his direction. Of course, that does not mean you do not feel his eyes on you, and you know for a fact he is plotting ways to get to you. The first blow comes as the meeting rolls to an end. Seungcheol directs the words towards Daisy. “Did you know that Miss ___ and I went to the same high school?”
“Really?” Your boss regards you with surprise. Suddenly, all the eyes in the room are on you. You shift uncomfortably in your seat, your pleading gaze directed at Seungcheol. He continues, “We were really close friends. Really close.”
You feel faint. Under your breath, you mumble, “Not that close, really.”
Daisy is happy. “Well, that makes this project much more fun. I’m sure we will all work together well and make this a successful campaign!”
Seungkwan and Yoona nod, sharing their agreement, while you sit with your head low, praying that this is all just a very, very bad dream. Your boss calls your name, prompting you to snap your head up. “I have another meeting now. Why don’t you see Seungcheol to his car?”
What?
“Me?” You blink, terrified. Your eyes meet his for a brief second, and judging by the look in them, you know he was waiting for an opportunity like this. An opportunity to devour you whole and spit out the bones.
“Yes, you,” Daisy repeats. With a hard swallow, you nod, quietly trailing behind Seungcheol towards the VIP elevator. The moment the doors close and the metal box starts descending, you feel your stomach drop.
He turns to look at you, eyes shining dangerously. “What a coincidence, huh?”
You stand mute, pressed against the elevator wall, trying to put as much distance between the two of you as possible.
“This is going to be so much fun,” he hums, a smirk taking over his lips as he steps closer to you. Slowly. One step after the other. The air thins, and your nostrils fill up with the smell of his cologne. It seems faintly familiar, a mixture of bergamot and citrus. It is distracting and alluring. It becomes increasingly difficult to find your words and then—
A hand snakes around your waist, pulling you tight against his body. Then, his lips are on yours.
The kiss is brutal. It almost feels like a punishment, hard and merciless, but also addictive. His body pressed against yours, his hands in your hair as he devours your mouth like it is his last meal. You give in to the desire, meeting his tongue with yours, equally wanton until your brain finally snaps back to reality, and the logical part of your brain starts to go back online. With a harsh grip on his chest, you push him away, panting for air. “Shit. We…we should not have done that. You—you have a girlfriend.”
You cringe at yourself. Really, that's the first reason you give?
Seungcheol’s thick brows knot into confusion. “I saw the woman that day in the bar. The blonde,” You wipe your lips as you explain. Yep, your lipstick is smudged, and you probably look like a clown.
Seungcheol smirks. “Look at you all worried. She’s a fling. I don’t do girlfriends. Not after what you did to me.” The look in his eyes shifts, and you have to take in a deep, shuddering breath to find your voice back. “Anyway, we are working together now, and that—that was highly unprofessional.”
“Don’t look at me like that.. Like it was only me.” He licks his lips, taking a step closer to you. “You were practically eating me up like a touch-starved whore.” His eyes darken as his lips form a flat, thin line. “It was a one-time thing. Don’t expect that to happen again.”
The elevator doors open with a soft ding, and he marches away without wasting another breath, leaving you absolutely dumbfounded. You stand rooted in your place, infuriated at his audacity but the sear of his kiss leaves behind a maddening tingle on your lips.
—
As the week goes by, the project starts to take its baby steps, and you are thankful that Seungcheol does not drop by again. His secretary shows up throughout the week for updates and monitoring, letting you work in peace with your colleagues.
You cannot imagine seeing him again after kissing him in the elevator. And the audacity of that man! Telling you not to expect it again, as if he did not initiate the kiss, and acting like you were begging him for it!
Ultimately, that kiss has earned Seungcheol a permanent space in your head; thoughts of him following you around all day and all night like a shadow. You find yourself zoned out or daydreaming, every now and then, during lunch or a tea break, earning suspicious looks from your coworkers.
The more excuses you give, the more suspicious they get. You have worked with them for a while, and they know something is up with you. Thankfully, none of them has figured anything out yet. But the way Seungcheol has been behaving, you doubt it will take them long to connect the dots.
—
On Friday, you are the last one to leave the office. As you pack up your belongings, ready to get home, Daisy calls you.
“Hey, I just received your mail for the moodboard. It looks great. I think we can go ahead with it.”
“Lovely,” you stifle a yawn as you sling your bag over your shoulder.
“Are you still in the office? Seungkwan said you would be working late.”
“Yes…why?”
“Please do me a favour and get a copy to Seungcheol right away. Get his approval tonight so that we can get started from next week,” Daisy announces. You still, your fingers tightening around your phone.
“Wait, why do we need his approval?”
“Come on, ___. You have seen how sensitive he is. He has a reputation for being nitpicky; it runs in the family. I’m sure he won’t say no. It’s just a formality. I know it’s late, but he lives nearby. I will give you the address. I would have done it myself, but I am an hour away.”
A dejected sigh escapes your lips as you pinch the bridge of your nose, dreading approaching Seungcheol with the storyboard. “I don’t think I can do this.” You whisper to yourself.
“What’s gotten into you?” Daisy asks from the other end. “Normally, you are so confident in your work, ___. What's going on?"
“I guess I am just tired.”
“You can have a nice, long break after this project,” she assures.
“Right. Thanks.” You mumble.
—
It is almost 9 in the evening when you reach the mansion that Seungcheol is staying at. You don’t know if it is his family property or if he is renting it, but either way, it screams luxury. A butler receives you at the front door, guiding you down the long, warmly lit and polished corridor, tints of gold, brown and cream surrounding the space.
You are led to a small living area next to a library, and as you step in, you find Seungcheol bent over the pool table, his eyes razor sharp as he takes a shot. Next to him stands Mingyu with a cue stick in one hand and a glass of whiskey in another. As the balls scatter across the table, he sighs, “Looks like you are winning this one, Choi.”
Seungcheol smirks, reaching for his own glass of whiskey, gulping it down all at once. You are frozen in your spot, your eyes transfixed on the uninterrupted view of his flexing biceps thanks to the tank top he is wearing.
Suddenly, your throat is dry and you have forgotten what you came here for. Damn it, you should have taken the butler’s offer of having something to drink.
Mingyu is the first one to spot you, snapping you back to reality. “___?” He calls, his voice somewhat confused.
“Hi,” you give him an awkward smile as Seungcheol turns around. His face falls, a frown forming in his brows as his eyes land on you. You continue, worried that you would stumble over your words, “I needed Seungcheol’s approval for the ad storyboard.”
“Great. You guys chat. I’ll get you something to drink. What do you want?”
The strongest of whiskey would not be enough right now. “Tea would be lovely,” you smile at him. With a nod, the taller man steps away, leaving you and Seungcheol alone in the room. Instantly, the place is shrouded with a thick blanket of tension, eerily quiet and suffocating.
Seungcheol gazes at you for a few seconds before going back to his game, ignoring you like you are not standing right there. “I’m busy,” he announces.
Oh god.
“I understand. It’ll only take five minutes.”
He rolls his eyes with a huff, marches over to you to snatch the file out of your hands and roughly flips the pages. Not even ten seconds later, he tosses the file on the coffee table and resumes his game. “Yeah, this won’t work.”
He has to be kidding right now.
“Seungcheol, please. The least you can do is be a tad bit serious about this. It is for your company.” You plead, unamusedly watching him focus on aiming at the cue ball on the pool table. He takes the shot and, after a satisfied hum, says, “I know. And I am very serious about this. Which is why I am telling you, it needs to be redone.”
“No, it does not, Seungcheol. You did not even take a good look at it.”
“Or maybe you are not that good at your job as you think you are.” He hums casually. “I’m sure it is a hard pill for you to swallow, since you are so used to being the best since high school. Best student, best debater—oh, I heard you won the employee of the month last month. Congratulations for that, by the way, but it looks like the same won’t happen this month.”
His words burn. They are like ice picks on your skin and you know he knows. He is deliberately hitting you where it hurts.
You never had much in life. Your academic accomplishments have been your everything, and you have carried that dedicated, hardworking mindset to your workplace. So far, the response has been good, and more than that, you don’t need anyone to tell you how good you are at your job.
You know you are.
“You are being unprofessional, you know?” You decide to be civil, placing the files on the nearby coffee table. “You’re bringing up old things that are not related to this project. I’m afraid I need to remind you to keep your personal and professional life separate.”
His body freezes. You see his jaws clench as he stares at a fixed spot on the wall for a few beats. Then, a moment later, he is standing right in front of you with the pool stick in his hand, his burning gaze set on your face.
He is so close you can smell his cologne, and instinctively you take a step back, only for him to take a step closer. “Listen to me very carefully, ___. I fucking loathe you. I cannot look at you—hell, think about you for a second without remembering what you did to me. So I don’t care if I am being unprofessional right now. In fact, I want to be. When I saw you at the meeting on the first day, you know what the first thought I had was?”
You look away, your heart racing in your chest. It is too much—his proximity, his words, his gaze. Your mind starts short-circuiting, and the air feels too thick to breathe.
“Look at me.” He hisses. “I wanted to kick you out of the team right away. I wanted to make a scene and announce that I would not work with your company if you were on the team. But then, you know what I realized? Keeping you on the team would be so much more fun. I could ruin your life bit by bit and see you suffer.”
Tears of infuriation brim in your eyes.
“Remember how you called me a burden?” he whispers, chuckling menacingly. “I will show you how burdensome I can really be. News flash, ___. I am your client now, not your stupid boyfriend, and you have no choice but to do as I say.”
Dropping the cue stick on the ground with a loud thud that makes you jolt, Seungcheol walks past you. You clutch your chest with one hand, trying to breathe in large gulps of air. It takes a moment for you to notice Mingyu standing at the doorway with a cup of tea in his hand, looking helpless and apologetic.
Blinking back the tears, you force a smile at him. “I will get going now.” Your hands reach for the files on the coffee table, your fingers numb and shaky.
In silence, you head for the front door.
—
In the end, your proposal gets the green light after Daisy approaches Seungcheol the next day. After some minor changes, you get to work with Seungkwan and Yoona, thankful that you don’t have to deal with Seungcheol again.
Later that week, you have a private chat with Daisy, informing her that you and Seungcheol parted in not-so-amicable terms after high school. You try to share as little information as possible, and thankfully, she understands your predicament. She assures that you won’t have to deal with him directly from now on, and you breathe a sigh of relief. That's the end of that.
The month rolls by. The project continues to take shape. You see Seungcheol very few times, and whenever you do, your interaction stays limited to curt greetings and professional politeness. Over time, you have gotten very good at pretending that he does not affect you. Putting the mask on has been easy, and when you are in the office, busy with the project and seeing your work come to life first-hand, your past with him almost seems insignificant.
Because it is the past. You don’t have the luxury to let yourself slip while thinking about the good old days. Seungcheol can do that, but not you. Surviving in a foreign country by yourself has been a challenge, and thankfully, you have managed to remind yourself what truly matters.
Seungcheol will leave once the project is over. You will go back to your life and he to his. That's how it has to be.
—
Seungcheol is treating everyone to dinner tonight, as a celebration for the successful wrap-up of the campaign. You, Daisy, Seungkwan, and Yoona from your firm and Seungcheol’s secretary, and two other employees from his end. At first, you did not want to join them, but when you heard that it is one of the finest restaurants in town with a stellar menu, paid for with his black card, you decided not to go would be a huge loss. After all, you have been working like a dog for this project behind the scenes, with barely any recognition, and this is a perfect opportunity to drain his card, though you doubt it would leave barely a dent in his wealth.
At the long, rectangular dinner table, you make sure to sit as far away from Seungcheol as possible, right at the end, while Daisy and his employees occupy the seats near him. Despite your insistence against it, Seungkwan sits next to you.
“It’s more comfortable here.” He says. “I am not in the mood for socializing. It’s bad enough that we have to pamper his ass all week and now, we have to eat dinner with him.” He grumbles under his breath, making you laugh. “Well, at least he’s paying for the meal.” You reply, taking a sip of water.
“The only reason I am here, can’t say no to a free fancy meal.” Seungkwan huffs. You have come to confide in Seungkwan over the past couple of months. Little by little, you shared your colourful history with him, and he has developed a dislike for Seungcheol as well.
It is fun to have people to gossip with.
Dinner starts smoothly. Despite having some worries on the back of your mind that Seungcheol would strike up a conversation with you and make not-so-subtle remarks on your performance, he leaves you alone. You enjoy your dinner, chatting with Seungkwan about work and future plans, Yoona casually joining your discussion every now and then.
Just before dessert, you get a call and excuse yourself from the table, heading towards the ladies' room with your phone pressed to your ear. The male and the female washrooms sit along the same corridor, and right when you are about to turn left, you see Seungcheol emerge from the men’s room.
Right, he was not at the table when you left.
His eyes lock with yours and your steps falter, slowing down to a stop in front of the door as you hang up the call. The gears in your head start shifting, debating on whether to acknowledge him or go your way.
“Was the food to your liking, Junior Assistant ___?” He addresses you by your title, the sarcasm potent in his tone.
His eyes darken immediately, flashing with venom. “Don’t piss me off, ___.”
He just cannot help himself from picking on you, can he?
You force a smile on your face. “Yes, it was delicious. Thank you for your generosity, Vice President Choi.”
God, help me. “I did not mean to—”
“Stop smiling all the damn time. Stop acting like you are not affected by me.” He hisses, a snark on his lips. He takes one step after another, his shoes making a crisp click sound as he nears you. You look around frantically, worried someone will see you in such proximity to him.
“Stop getting on my nerves,” he breathes, his face hovering inches away from yours. With no room to escape, your back is pressed against the door, “Seungcheol…this is the ladies—”
Ignoring your scandalized gasp, he pushes you inside, stepping into the ladies' room with you. “What the hell are you doing?” You whisper-yell, eyes skimming around to see if anyone is inside. The stalls appear empty, thankfully.
Unaffected, he keeps his blazing eyes on you, backing you towards an empty, open stall. “Stop with the facade. I know you are doing it to push my buttons. You get off torturing me, no? All worked up while you don’t bat an eye, acting like our past does not exist.” You feel his hot breath against your face.
“I do not,” you whisper, trying your best to look away. You are surrounded from all sides by his warmth, his touch and his presence. It is hauntingly familiar, messing with your sensitive, tipsy brain and lowering your guard.
His words undo something inside you. The breakup with him had left you undone and you have carried on like that, a chunk of your heart empty, left behind in front of your dorm in Seoul. The knowledge that you are treading into dangerous territory claws at you, neon red alarm bells going off in your head, yet you are helpless against yourself.
“I think you are drunk, Seungcheol.” You manage.
There is a subtle shift in his gaze. With a scoff, his lips break into a smile, like you are the most amusing creature he has ever laid eyes on. “Ha. I could drink all the booze in this world and still not be drunk enough to forget you. Trust me, I have tried.”
Seungcheol is your weakness, always has been. Maybe your touch-starved soul desires to feel his warmth against your skin, or maybe it is the selfish desire of your teenage self to have his eyes only on you that keeps you rooted to your spot, looking into his eyes. In silence, you drink him in—the slope of his nose, his long, fluttery eyelashes, his moles, and his beautiful eyes that look at you in pure hatred.
Your lips tingle with the memory of the messy, wanton kiss you shared with him not so long ago. You crave to feel it again.
“I hate you,” he breathes after a moment, the look in his eyes shifting from pure venom to hazy with lust. “I hate you so fucking much, ___. I wish I could burn you to the ground. I wish I could destroy you.” His voice grows heavy with each word and you let yourself believe that he does not mean them.
“I know,” comes your meek reply.
The man groans, the sound coming from the deepest part of his chest, resonating through your body as he hastily grabs your shoulder and pushes your face upwards, stealing your lips for a bruising, toe-curling kiss. It is a kiss that makes you forget where you are or what your name is.
“Please, Seungcheol.” You moan, your entire body a flame. You feel his kiss in every nerve, the precision and roughness of it altering your brain chemistry. You are no longer yourself, lost in a space between mind-bogging lust and the memories of old days when he used to be deep inside you like this after sneaking into your dorm late at night.
Seungcheol roughly shoves you against the wall, his body nestled close to yours in the cramped space as his free hand slips underneath your blouse. His kiss is dizzying, like always. Right now, it feels particularly harsh and raw; all other thoughts flying out of your head and making you forget to breathe. His hungry lips trail over your mouth and then your jaw, his body keeping you pressed against the stall wall as he links his fingers with yours before pinning them straight above your head.
“Seungcehol,” You utter his name like a mindless prayer. The man does not acknowledge you, unbothered by your pleas. Instead, he steals another kiss, this one more languid as he takes his sweet time exploring every bit of your mouth with his tongue. With his every movement, your moans grow louder as you feel the wetness between your legs increase. Some part of you knows how depraved this is, making out with your ex—who clearly hates you—in a bathroom stall. Still, the thought dominating your mind is how frustrated you feel, pinned to the wall and unable to touch him, feel his body underneath your fingertips after so long.
You writhe, trying to free your hands from his grip, but it remains futile. “Please,” you whimper between kisses. “Please, Seungcheol.” Looks like that is all you say.
“Keep your mouth shut.” The man grunts. He presses you roughly against the wall with one hand, pushing your body upwards slightly so that he can undo the zipper of your skirt, loosening the material around your waist. Then, his hand goes underneath your skirt and without any warning, his fingers cup your core, roughly, so, feeling you through your panties. “You are soaking through your underwear,” Seungcheol mutters as he feels the wet fabric pressed against your core.
“I need you,” you mewl, letting your head fall to the side to give him better access to your neck. His lips meet your skin with a hum, the sound so deep and throaty you feel it in your core. His lips do not break contact with your skin, kissing and sucking your sensitive flesh until your whole body shakes like leaves in a tree.
“Fuck, I need you, please.” You beg, digging your nails into his shoulder and grinding harder against him, desperate to ease the throbbing ache between your legs. Seungcheol, finally satisfied with the red spot blooming on your neck, lets you go, loosening the grip on your body to let you slide down the wall.
“You are still a temptress, you know? You fucking ruined my life years ago and you’re still ruining it.” Seungcheol hisses between pants, shuffling inside the small space to undo the zipper of his trousers. One of his hands grips the flesh of your ass, letting you lift one leg and wrap it around his waist. Once his hold on you is firm, his eyes lock with yours for a brief moment as he lines himself up with your entrance, before thrusting in deep.
A pathetic, muffled shriek rips from your throat, your head banging against the stall from the impact of the pleasure. All thoughts of subduing your moans go out the window as he starts moving in and out of you, rough and restless, his fingers gripping your flesh in a hold that will leave marks for days to come.
“You like it?” He taunts, his lips curved into a snarl. “You like my cock ruining you? Does it remind you of the old times?”
One particularly hard thrust and your head lulls forward, your hands desperately clutching on to his biceps. “C-Cheol” You shudder, eyes squeezed shut, your mouth hanging half-open.
“That’s right. Only say my name,” Seungcheol pants harshly, his voice strained as he pauses for a moment and remains fully buried inside you, toying with your pleasure. You can feel his grin against your shoulder before he pulls back all the way out and then thrusts back in. The force makes your body jolt but you do not have enough time to recover as he builds a pace, pushing in and out of you in movements so strong, your back arches and your toes curl in your heels. Your brain feels like mush as you fail to utter anything, your mouth simply hanging open to let out breathy pants as you close your eyes and feel every ridge of his cock move in and out of you.
You can feel how much he hates you.
It is an addictive, blissful experience, a high you never want to come out of. “Yess…” you mumble mindlessly, the force of his pace blanking your mind, freeing you from the curse of your own thoughts.
“Are you going to come, little slut?” He hums in your ear. You have lost your voice so your body speaks for you, shaking and nodding at his words. “Of course you will. You are always such a whore for me,” he hums, nibbling the skin of your neck. One of his hands reaches below to touch your clit as he wastes no time rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves with the pads of his finger, all the while continuing to thrust inside you earnestly.
“Seungcheol!” You scream, your entire body jolting.
Your reaction makes Seungcheol smirk as he chases his own high, seconds away from erupting inside you. He places your clit between his thumb and index finger, giving you a particularly harsh rub followed by a pinch.
You are catapulted over the edge.
Your vision goes white, your entire sweat-coated body twitching from the intensity of the pleasure. It only amplifies as you feel Seungcheol spill inside you, his warm release filling you up and dripping lazily out of you.
After a short lived moment of silence, things turn mechanic. Seungcheol untangles himself from you, that mask of indifference and boredom taking over his face once again as he cleans himself up with tissues, quietly handing some to you as well. He refuses to meet your gaze, or even acknowledge your presence, finishing his work in lightening speed and stepping out of the stall. You sit on the toilet lid for a long time, processing what you just did, before fixing your clothes and cleaning up.
By the time you step out after you have managed to gather yourself, both mentally and physically, Seiungcheol is no longer in the restaurant.
—
When your intercom rings on Saturday night, it's almost 10 pm. It is Mingyu, completely taking you by surprise. You open the door and stand unsurely as the taller man regards you with an unreadable gaze.
“I was not expecting…you.” You blink, wondering if all the wine got to your head.
“Were you expecting Seungcheol, then?” He half-jokes but you don’t smile. “May I come in?”
“Sure,” you murmur, fetching a glass for him. As you take a seat on the couch, Mingyu pours himself a drink, saying, “Something happened between you and Cheol yesterday.”
“Of course,” setting aside your confusion, you show him in. “What would you like to drink?”
“I see you are drinking by yourself.” He points at the bottle of red wine and the glass on your coffee table. “I guess I’ll join.”
Oh god.
You don’t look at him, busy taking a sip. Mingyu continues, “He has been weird since last night. Came to my place straight from the dinner, saying he fucked up.”
You offer nothing.
“Ugh, for god’s sake,” Mingyu runs a hand through his hair, his voice laced with frustration. “You guys are so…” his words fail him.
“You guys had sex, didn’t you?”
“I’m still too sober for this.”
“I can’t believe I am talking to you about this but it was hate sex, Mingyu.” You rub your forehead.
“It should not have happened.” You announce. “I was weak and I gave in to temptation. Can we put it past us now?”
“You were not the only weak one, trust me. Seungcheol is acting like a fucking teenager.” Mingyu makes a face, sipping his wine.
“If it was, he should have fucked you out of his system, not come home and whine about it continuously.” He regards you impassively, like he is trying to deduce something from your face.
“What is your point? Why are you here?” You throw him an exasperated look.
“You two need to talk. I am sick and tired of taking his bullshit and walking on eggshells around the two of you.”
“Right.” You roll your eyes and lean back on the couch. “Finish your drink and leave. I want to be alone.”
The man stays silent, quietly but leisurely sipping his wine. Time ticks by slowly as your mind wanders back to Seungcheol. The desire to ask Mingyu what he said about you grows and you know the longer he stays, the stronger your urges will grow.
Did he like it? Does he regret it? Does he miss you?
You bite your lip and finish your drink. Next week is the launch event for the campaign, and you already have your work cut out for you. Mr. Choi, along with the board of directors, will fly in from Seoul for the press conference, which is daunting enough. Right before this very important day, you had sex with Seungcheol, the one person you should not have. That too in a fucking bathroom.
Your whole life seems like a joke to you.
Your train of thought is led back to reality when you hear Mingyu murmur, “He was going to propose to you.”
You still.
The whole world stops. Your hand stills mid-air, failing to reach for the wine glass as you soak up his words. There is a dreadful, sinking feeling in your chest that grows rapidly larger each second, swallowing you whole. With all your being, you pray that you heard him wrong.
“What did you say?” You whisper, your face devoid of colour.
The man sighs, rubbing a frustrated hand over his face. “God,” he huffs, “Seungcheol was going to propose to you that month back in high school. I went with him to choose the ring. Of course, he was not going to marry you right then. He wanted to make a promise to you before you both went to college, and after you got your degree, you would get married. That was his plan.”
You are at a complete loss for words. Mingyu’s words feel absolutely unreal, a haunting mirage of a past that almost feels like a dream but somewhere deep in your heart, it makes perfect sense. It makes sense that he was planning to put a ring on your finger.
You two were madly, hopelessly in love. You dreamt of a future together and made a thousand different plans. You thought of the many, many possibilities, yet not once did you imagine breaking up.
How naive you were.
“After you broke up with him, he went crazy. He was actually batshit insane.” Mingyu shakes his head. “I never saw him like that, ever. He would drink himself to death and get into fights almost every day. He even got into a motorcycle accident and spent a month in the hospital, recovering from multiple surgeries on his knee. His father was livid, and it made things much worse.”
You feel like throwing up. Your heart has shrivelled up, folding back into itself inside your ribcage. The air feels too heavy for you to breathe in, the weight on your chest only growing larger each second.
“It was only after Mrs. Choi’s desperate and relentless begging in the hospital that he got his shit together. As his father wished, he agreed to aim for SNU, get his degree and then take over the company.” Mingyu sighs, a heavy stillness hanging in the air. “I don’t think he ever became normal. He’s just…different now. More reckless about everything. He basically became an asshole.”
Stunned, you stare at the ground. A lone drop of tear strolls down your cheek and you have to take in a few large gulps of air before you can find your voice. “Well, I am glad he is okay now.” You murmur, keeping your voice as neutral and uninterested as possible as you reach for the wine glass and chug the liquid down.
Mingyu frowns, “Don’t be like that. Don’t pretend that you don’t care.”
“I d-don’t!” You yell, but your voice breaks. A sob struggles free from your throat, and you have to bite your lip to keep from bursting into tears. Mingyu looks at you pitifully. “Gosh, ___. You are both miserable.”
“I am fine, Mingyu.” You announce, looking away and wiping your tears. “You should leave now.”
Ignoring your words, Mingyu scrutinizes you. “For old times' sake, can you at least tell me why you broke up with him? The real reason, not some bullshit excuse. I will not tell Seungcheol, I promise. I just need to know for my own peace of mind, because no matter how hard I thought about it, it never made sense.”
You sigh. “I was insecure.”
Mingyu makes a sound of annoyance. “The truth, ___.”
“It is the truth.”
—
5 YEARS AGO
The living room is ornate, decorated tastefully with expensive mahogany furniture. Alongside one wall hang dozens of pictures, mostly family portraits and pictures of Seungcheol’s grandfather when he started the Choi Industries.
Blowing on your tea, you take a sip and watch seconds tick by in the large grandfather clock. Seungcehol’s father called Seungceol away for a moment, stating that they needed to talk privately while his mother went to put dinner in the oven. It has been a while, and they have yet to show up, leaving you feeling awkward in the large, polished space. Until now, silence has been hanging in the air when suddenly, you hear muffled voices that keep rising in pitch. It sounds like someone is having a heated argument.
Half worried and half curious, you leave your spot on the sofa and carry down the hallway and towards what looks like Mr. Choi’s study, the place from where the voices are emerging. The door is not fully closed, leaving a good couple of inches gap that gives you a view of the people inside.
Seungcheol’s father stands behind his large desk, while your boyfriend stands facing him, a burning look in both of their eyes. Seungcheol’s mother stands between with her back towards the door, slightly hampering your view of the two men.
What is going on?
“Do you really have to be like this, father?” Seungcheol fumes, his voice laced with desperation.
“Yes, I have to!” The older man booms. “You have lost your mind. I let you be at first, thinking that you were not serious about her, but what? You want to go abroad to study with her? And not even to a prestigious university, but a basketball program? Are you insane?”
“Father, I don’t want—”
“You know I love basketball!”
“You are too old for that. You need to get serious and study to get into Seoul National University. My son will take over my business, not go abroad and play some stupid sport!”
“She has gotten into your head. She is using you for your money, you idiot!”
“Father, watch how you speak about her.” Seungcheol hisses.
“Enough, both of you. She is still here. We can have this conversation later.”
“Don’t you dare tell me what to do, boy! Did you forget what type of family she comes from? She comes from nothing, for god’s sake! Her father is a deadbeat alcoholic. Her mother lives with her boyfriend! She has no family, no home. How could you date someone like her?”
“Enough, father!” Seungcheol, seethes. His mother rushes to his side, trying to calm him down.
“Get some sense into his head!” Mr. Choi snaps. “He has gone insane. There is a limit to my patience. How could he think of bringing her here? How could he think I would accept her!”
You have heard enough.
With quiet steps, you go back to the living room and sit down at your spot, wringing your hands. Your fingers shake, matching your breathing, giving you a very hard time holding back tears. You fail to do so, and a tear slips down, making you do your utmost best not to break into sobs. Hearing footsteps down the corridor, you quickly wipe your face and reach for the teacup. Seungcheol steps into the living room, followed by his mother. His face gives away nothing when he speaks, “Sorry about the wait. My father got an important business call, so he won’t join us for dinner.”
“No, it’s okay,” you smile, standing up. “Actually, I got a message from my friend. There is a leak in our dorm because of the rain. She needs my help to move stuff. I should get going.”
“I will come with you.”
“Oh, no, you don’t have to.” You rush, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “It’s raining outside. I will take the bus. Goodbye, Mrs. Choi. It was lovely to meet you. Please convey my apologies to Mr. Choi.”
That was the first and the last time you were inside Seungcheol's house.
—
“Deep down, I always knew it would not work. How could it? We were so different. I always found it unbelievable that we were dating. Every day felt like a dream. When I heard them talk, it was like a wakeup call. His dad's words were bitter but they were the truth that I knew deep down. I have always been miserable. It was a sheer stroke of luck that brought Seungcheol into my life. It was a small period of blessing, and I wanted to leave it at that. Simple.” You whisper, your eyes trained outside the window, watching the darkening sky. In the distance, you hear thunder rumble.
Mingyu remains silent.
Minutes tick by. You swallow the hard lump lodged in your throat before looking at him. “What’s done is done. This project will be over next week and then we won’t have to see each other again.”
“Right,” Mingyu nods, his head moving unsuredly. “Don’t you think you owe him an explanation? It still eats him up because he does not know what he did wrong. All his anger towards you is just misplaced hurt.”
“Do you think I don’t know that?” Your voice is a shaky, sorrowful whimper. “It kills me every day when I remember what I did to him. He deserves an explanation, yes, but it hurts to even stand in front of him. Maybe under different circumstances, I would have made an attempt, but now? I think we are past everything.”
Mingyu stares at you for a beat. “At least for your sake, I think you should talk to him. I am looking at you now and it’s clear you are suffering as much as he is. And I know a thing or two about guilt. It eats you alive.”
You remain silent.
“You are barely holding on by a thread, ____. You broke up with him, but he had people around him for support that helped him get back on track somehow. You need to stop suffering by yourself,” he trails off.
“I have always been alone, Mingyu.” You offer him a sad smile.
“You don’t have to be.”
—
The week starts off busy, the hours dragging on and on as you work with Seungkwan and Yoona to perfect everything for the launch event on Thursday. Seungcheol drops by the office on Tuesday for a meeting with Daisy. You thankfully do not have any interactions with him, only catching a glimpse of him as he left her office.
The glimpse itself was heavy enough.
Like a compass always seeking north, his eyes locked with yours for a few seconds, his gaze heavy and almost…guilty. They were not burning with hatred for once, and the somber look on his face was once again a cruel reminder of what happened Friday night.
Work, thankfully, kept you busy and you had no choice but to push Seungcheol to the furthest corner of your mind.
When you see him the next time, it is Thursday morning, in the opening ceremony. You shake hands with him, all polite and business-like, posing for photos, talking to the his guests and his team.
You don’t think of the way how his eyes stay on you a second longer each time. You don’t think of the way how the look in his eyes shifts your gaze finds his, how they burn quietly with heavy, unsaid emotions. You don’t think of the way your eyes search for him in the crowded room, finding solace in having him within your sights, dressed in a stunning three-piece suit, the epitome of perfection, and a glaring reminder of why you would have never worked out.
No, you don’t think of any of those things. You think of doing your job right, staying on top of things and working alongside your team to prepare for Mr. Choi’s arrival.
And when he does, things go smoothly.
He does not recognize you. You honestly did not expect him to. But somewhere deep within you, there was a fear, an irrational one, that he would recognize you from before, and maybe discredit everything your team has been working for so far.
Nothing such happens. It’s just another round of business smiles, another round of introductions and photos. It’s just you amongst a sea of faces.
—
The event wraps up just before noon. As the hall clears out, echos of praise and hums of approval hang in the air. You join Daisy and the CEO of your company for one last small talk with Mr. Choi and his men. In the small group, Seungcheol and you stand opposite each other, sneaking glances when the other person is not looking.
At some point, the group moves on with their conversation, strolling away while you and Seungcheol stay in your place. When you gather the courage to look in his eyes, he appears jittery, nervous, and awkward at the same time, much like how you feel.
“Good work today.” He murmurs, his voice scratchy.
“Thank you.”
Silence. It becomes suffocating as you struggle to find the right things to say. You know your time with him is coming to an end. What is the right way to bring an end to this relationship?
“I am sorry about Friday night.” He finally speaks. You blink and wait, understanding that he has more to say. His eyes remain on the ground, “I am ashamed of the way I behaved. It was very…unprofessional and…I don’t know…I just…lost control and…”
“I understand, Seungcheol.” You offer, giving him a small smile.
“Right.” He blinks.
More silence.
“Seugcheol?” You whisper, realizing this might be the last time you are calling his name. He gazes at you with a somber look.
“I need to tell you something.”
He stays mute for a beat. “Go on.”
For a second, the world slows down. Time stops and creates a space where it is only you and him, and the haunting memories of your love. It is a comfortable, precious, but momentary bubble—one that you wish you could stay in forever. Swallowing the hard lump in your throat, you whisper, “I am sorry. I am sorry for breaking up with you the way I did.”
Silence.
He blinks, staring at you with an unreadable expression, making you wonder if he even heard you.
“A little too late for that, no?” He says with a mock smile, shifting his gaze to look outside the large floor-to-ceiling windows.
“Yes.” You reply. “And I am sorry for being so late as well. I have owed you this apology for a long time, and I wanted to say it out loud to you, even though it is too late.”
He sighs, nodding his head, not looking at you.
“I did not mean the things I said that night. I am sorry.” You repeat, your voice catching at the end. He finally looks back at you and, for a long moment, stares at your face. You see his eyes shine, mirror the turbulent emotions in yours, and for a moment, you get a glimpse of the Seungcheol four years ago. The boy who wore his heart on his sleeve, dreamt big things, and loved you more than anything else. You see the last five years flash by his eyes.
“I am sorry for my behaviour over the past few months,” he says after taking a deep breath. “It was immature of me.”
“It’s okay,” you whisper, voice feather light. For some reason, you feel like crying. “I understand.” Something about this conversation solidifies your idea that this is goodbye. You are not going to see him again.
He nods and gives you a tight-lipped smile that does not reach his eyes. “Well then, good luck.” Sparing one final glance at you, he turns around and marches towards the exit. You watch him leave, committing the view of his back to your memory while holding back a sob. You will not cry until he is out of sight.
A few steps in, he turns around and calls your name. “Can you tell me now why you really broke up with me?”
You could not.
You force a smile, friendly but casual. “It does not matter anymore, right?”
For a brief second, disappointment flickers in his eyes. He remains silent for another second before giving you a smile that mirrors your own—amicable but rehearsed. “Right.” He pauses, “Best of luck, ___.”
He walks away before you can reply.
—
It is going to rain today.
In the empty convention hall, you sit facing the window, the half-empty bottle of wine keeping you company in the silence. Time ticks by slowly as the darker clouds roll in, followed by the pitter-patter of the rain.
The doors open, revealing Seungkwan carrying a plate of dessert and an empty glass. “Heard you were here. I knew you would be moping, so I decided to join you.” He announces, taking a seat next to you.
You smile. “Good choice. The view is lovely here.”
He sits down on the chair next to you, putting the plate of tiramisu between the two of you. “I got this for you. People generally eat ice cream and cry but they did not have any ice cream here.”
With a soft chuckle, you reach for the spoon. “I assume they left.”
Seungkwan knows who you are referring to. “Yeah, Daisy and I saw them out. President Choi was very pleased with us. I think we can expect a good bonus.”
“That’s good to hear,” you murmur, mindlessly sucking your spoon.
Seungkwan pours himself some wine. “Seungcheol's friend—Mingyu, I think, also came. They are all going out for lunch. President Choi is flying out tonight.”
“Mhm,” you hum.
Next to you, your coworker falls silent, watching the rain fall steadily outside. “I don’t think President Choi recognized me.” You mumble, more to yourself.
“That’s a good thing, no?”
“I guess.” You pause, taking a sip of your wine. “But it hurt. It made me feel so insignificant. I knew I was insignificant, which is why I broke up with his son in the first place. But realizing that he did not even remember my face after saying all those things really put everything into perspective.”
Seungkwan remains silent next to you.
“I am a good worker but I would never make a good prospect for his son,” you chuckle, shaking your head at the pathetic situation as you remember him complimenting your hard work.
“Did you tell him why you broke up with him?” He asks. You finish your wine and set the glass down. “No. How could I? I could tell that his relationship with his father is still very strained. Why make it worse? No point in crying over spilt milk.”
“But he will never know the truth.”
“Maybe it is better this way. I apologized to him. That should be enough to move on.”
Your colleague does not say anything. In silence, he finishes his drink while you watch the rain, the sky flashing purple with distant rumbles of thunder.
“Let’s go and stand in the rain.” Seungkwan suddenly announces. You cock an amused brow at him. “What?” He pouts. “This is the perfect mood for that. You are depressed and it’s raining outside. Go and soak in the rain or something. Cry your heart out and then leave him here. It’s about time, don’t you think?”
You reflect upon his words. Yeah, it is about time.
“You’re right, let’s go.” With a resolved sigh, you stand up, followed by Seungkwan, who excitedly trails after you. The large compound in front of the hotel is silent and empty, save for the occasional cars that drive past down the main road. Your steps slow down as you walk past the entrance and stand under the portico, feeling the chill in the air that accompanies the heavy rain.
“On a second thought, maybe getting wet in the rain is not the best idea. It’s quite chilly.” Seungkwan murmurs as you both stand and watch the rain. You hum, looking at the grey sky, “Yeah. I don’t know how they make it look romantic in the movies. This feels depressing as hell.”
“Probably has something to do with your mood.” Your colleague whispers drily. You roll your eyes. “Do you know how long our rooms are booked?” You ask him. “Didn’t Daisy say something about us staying over if we want to?”
“Yeah. We can stay the night.” He affirms.
You sigh a breath of relief, crossing your arms and making yourself smaller. “Good. A warm bath sounds lovely right now. Let’s—”
You are cut off as a sports car pulls into the driveway at rapid speed, way faster than the speed limit. Your breath catches in your throat when you realize whose car it is.
Mingyu’s.
“What in the fucking romcom is going on?” Seungkwan snickers next to you as you hold your breath, expecting to see a familiar face. A second later, Seungcheol gets out from the passenger’s side, his eyes immediately finding yours as he stands in the rain, staring at you. One glance at him and you know he knows. You can tell from the look in his eyes, the way his brow is subtly knotted, and the clenched muscles of his jaw.
Mingyu could never keep a secret.
The driver’s side window rolls down, revealing Mingyu, who looks at you and goes, "Don't fuck it up this time, seriously." Then, he points to Seungkwan, “You, get in. Let's give them a moment.”
“Yep!” The man rushes past you and gets in the car. Mingyu throws a cheeky wink at you before pulling out of the driveway with a loud roar of the engine.
Once again, silence falls, save the constant hum of the rain, as you and Seungcheool stand face to face.
Why is he standing there in the rain? It reminds you awfully of the time you broke up with him.
“Seungcheol—” You take a step closer, feeling the smallest drops of water hit your skin. It’s cold. It’s cold and you don’t know what you want to say or why you called his name.
The man takes slow but determined steps towards you. “I’ll ask you once more. Why did you break up with me?” His voice is steady but loaded with a thickness that you have not heard in a long time.
The raindrops have engulfed him by the time he stands under the portico with you, dripping down his temples to his chiselled jaw, and you swear he has never looked more handsome, drenched in the rain, his breath coming out heavy with an unmistakable look in his eyes—hope.
“Seungcheol,” you breathe, a small smile spreading into your lips. It’s relief. “It does not matter.” You reply, and this time, you mean it. It truly does not matter anymore. Not when he came back. Not when he is standing in front of you.
He exhales a long breath, taking another step closer to you. He stands in front of you, intimately close, so much so that you can count the raindrops on his face.
A lot of things go through your mind. You don’t know how to articulate them, so you bask in this feeling of delight and warmth. You bask in his gaze, tender and warm, just how he used to look at you, years ago.
“You should dry up,” you whisper, still hypnotized by his eyes.
“You should have told me.” He whispers, his voice feather-light, almost drowned out by the sound of the rain. You look at him in confusion.
“You should have just been honest about your feelings. The things my dad said about you that day…they were unforgivable. It kills me to know that you heard them all and here, I have been living hating you, completely oblivious all this time.”
“It was a long time ago. It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me,” His voice sharpens. “To me, it is the present. I would never have found out unless Mingyu told me.” He takes a breath, running a hand through his wet locks, “Gosh, ___. I feel like I failed you. I did not make you feel safe enough to be honest with me.”
“Seungcheol, no. I was insecure—”
“I would have let you go, I swear. If I knew that you had heard all the things my father said, I would have let you go voluntarily because it was just too shameful. I would have given you your space, and then, I would have come to you. I have always wanted to do that. No matter where you went, I was ready to follow.”
Tears sting your eyes.
“I should have been honest with you. I’m sorry.” You murmur, looking at the ground, your head hanging low.
“Fuck,” he hisses and, in the blink of an eye, engulfs you into his arms. “Don’t apologize, please. If anyone should be sorry, it is I. I am sorry for every fucking thing. God, I don’t know how I could ever make it up to you. I keep failing you, ___. I almost did it again. Thank god Mingyu told me everything.”
“He promised me he would not,” you mumble into his chest, a smile blooming on your lips.
Seungcheol gently removes you from his chest, his eyes searching for yours while your smile fades, wondering what is going on in his mind.
Ever so tenderly, he reaches out cup your cheek, his thumb tracing your cheekbone. His eyes remain devoted to you and only you, while his right hand wraps around your waist, pressing your torso to his. You feel like gasoline is running through your veins, ready to ignite at any moment.
“Can I kiss you?” He whispers.
The rain has faded into a drizzle by now and you see the grey starting to fade from the sky.
“Yes.” You reply, closing your eyes.
The fire ignites when his lips meet your tender and soft, slow and passionate, deep and lingering. Both of your hands claw at each other, despite being skin to skin, it is not enough. The empty void you have been trying to mend for all these years has opened with a gaping split, and only he can mend it.
Only he could ever.
The kiss continues. Tears roll down your face. The rain stops and the sun shines again.
“I love you, Seungcheol.” You rest your forehead against his, pouring your heart out. “I love you so much. I never stopped loving you.”
“Me neither,” he breathes. “You never left my mind. Everything reminded me of you. Even when I was hating you, I was in love with you.”
A small, sad smile makes way onto your lips. “Do you think we could go back to what we were?”
“We don’t have to go back.” He replies firmly. “We can be better now. I, for one, don’t want to go back. I was foolish to lose you. I won’t do it again.”
“Things haven’t changed.” You whisper, eyes locked with his.
He makes a sound of amusement. “No, everything has. I know the truth now, so everything has changed.”
“Do you mean it? I don’t think I can survive another heartbreak, Seungcheol. I have enough ghosts already.” You try very hard not to let your voice crack.
His arms tighten around you. He pauses for a moment, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows, his eyes sharpening. “No more ghosts. It’s just you and me, now.”
His lips reconnect with yours, soothing your worries.
After a long, long time, you won’t go to bed haunted by ghosts. Ghosts of him and your past. The thought is a balm to your cracked soul.
“Let’s get you out of those clothes now.” You murmur, taking a look at his soaked clothes. He raises a teasing brow at you, a smirk playing on his lips. You roll your eyes, stepping into the hotel. Seungcheol quickly reaches for your hand, interlocking his fingers with yours.
Smiling ear to ear, you walk inside.
For a bonus epilogue, 1 month into the future, click here or head over to my Patreon!
This work is cross-posted on AO3.
© startlightxsvt 2025 | All Rights Reserved. Do not copy, translate, adapt, or repurpose any of my works.
a/n 2: This was supposed to come out a long time ago but I've been so swamped with a research paper and conferences that I could not make time to finish the minor editing. I also got really sick last week, during my bday, on top of that lol, so I've just been feeling miserable for a while. Anyway, I am glad that I could finish this and put it out for you guys. I don't think I will be able to upload any other fic this year as I have a lot of coursework due. If I am not dead, I hope to return with some bangers next year. I have some abandoned drafts and some interesting ideas in my head, so let's see where the wind takes me.
On a different note, I have recently been wondering/overthinking as to whether my content is substantial, in the sense that I don't want my works to be the same rehashed tropes or just in general unsubstantial pieces (fyi, I am not looking down at any other writers or comparing my works to others). It's a trial and tested pattern here that pwp fics always get more traction, which is not wrong but I think I have always been a writer who is very lore/plot-heavy. I always find smut the hardest to write and even though I like indulging in pwp fics once in a while (like my last dilf cheol fic which did numbers!) I am always looking forward to writing complex/dramatic plots. And in relation to this, I'd just like to add that I am very proud of Scars Leave a Beautiful Trace. I generally always find my work cringy when I reread it, but I think the SLABT universe is very well-crafted. I truly had the most fun time writing it; in my head it was playing like a kdrama lol, and I really appreciate all the love it has got. Please keep showing it more love, y'all!
What I'm trying to say is, I just hope that you guys, as my audience, are happy and find meaning in my work. This community is truly precious to me and I realized that I have taken this appreciation for granted. It truly means a lot to have so much love and support here, in my little corner of the internet. I am grateful to have a space to express myself and get so much love in return. My request would be for you guys to leave any feedback you have on my work and suggestions for any particular type of writing that you would like to see from me in the future. I have recently opened another tumblr account where I post random thought dumps and whatnot and I would have shared the link here, but I realized many people I know irl follow this blog and I don't want them to follow me over there because the writings there are very intimate?? lol, anyway, I'll try to build an audience over there as well from scratch and we'll see how that goes. In future, perhaps I'll share some writings here.
Anyway, thank you for reading till the end. I truly appreciate you! As always, your reblogs and comments mean a lot. My ask box is always open so drop by!
