( 애인 ) 𝒾n which ︵ grief is just love with no place to go. you were the light in their everyday lives, the one who saw them clearly and loved them through the noise, only to be lost in the sharp silence of a single mistake. now, they're left to navigate a world that feels too quiet, holding onto the fading echoes of your voice while learning to live with a love that can no longer reach you.
angst 8O68 major character death guilt accidental death isolation depression suicidal ideation ( jeongin's ) vomiting ( felix's ) panic attacks self-loathing fighting emotional & verbal hurt
oops my finger slipped. also i deadass teared up for some of these now i have a migraine. please don't dox me
⌨️ like&&reblog for a kiss. ── #click4masterlist to see more.
CHAN
it was his fault. it didn't matter how many times people told him otherwise, because he knew the truth.
the words he’d spat at you were still vibrating in the air of the apartment, ghost echoes that refused to fade even though the person they were aimed at was gone.
chan sat on the edge of the bed, his head hanging between his knees, his fingers digging into his scalp until it stung. the silence in the room was physical. it was heavy, pressing against his eardrums like deep water.
he could still see the way your expression had shifted—that split second where your face went from concern to absolute devastation. he’d been awake for forty-eight hours, fueled by nothing but cold brew and the crushing pressure of a comeback deadline.
when you’d walked into the studio with a container of home-cooked food and a gentle plea for him to just come home for an hour, he’d snapped.
"can't you see i'm busy?" he’d barked, his voice raw and ugly. "i don't need a babysitter. i need you to leave me alone so i can actually do my job."
you hadn't shouted back. you never did. you’d just stood there, the plastic bag of food crinkling in your hand, your eyes glassy. you’d apologized—god, why did you apologize?—and turned around.
ten minutes later, the rain had started. twenty minutes later, his phone had buzzed with a call from an unknown number. thirty minutes later, the world had ended.
chan stood up abruptly, his legs feeling like lead. he walked into the kitchen, his eyes landing on the counter where your keys usually sat. they weren't there. they were in an evidence bag at a police station, probably scratched or bent from the impact.
he reached for a glass of water, but his hand shook so violently that he had to set it back down. he looked at the clock. 3:00 am. this was usually the time you’d text him to see if he was heading back, or if he needed a ride. he pulled his phone out of his pocket, his thumb hovering over your name in his contacts.
1 unread message.
he hadn't opened it. he couldn't. it was sent at 11:42 pm, exactly three minutes before the timestamp on the police report. his heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic, painful rhythm. he finally tapped the notification.
i'm sorry for bothering you, channie. i left the food on the table. please eat it when you get a chance. i love you so much. drive safe if you come home later.
chan let out a sound that wasn't a sob—it was more like he’d been punched in the gut and all the air had been forced out of him at once. he sank to the floor, his back sliding against the cold refrigerator.
"i'm sorry," he whispered into the empty kitchen. "i'm so sorry."
the members had tried to come over. changbin had stayed for four hours yesterday, just sitting on the sofa in silence because chan wouldn't speak. minho had brought over a bag of groceries, wordlessly stocking the fridge before leaving with a heavy hand on chan’s shoulder. they wanted to help him carry the weight, but they didn't understand that he deserved to be crushed by it.
if he hadn't been so cruel, you would have stayed. you would have sat on the studio couch and fallen asleep under a blanket while he worked. you wouldn't have been on that bridge. you wouldn't have been in the path of a driver who couldn't see through the torrential rain.
every decision he’d made that night had led to you being gone.
he stood up and walked toward the hallway, his feet dragging. he opened the door to your shared bedroom, the scent of your perfume still clinging to the pillows. it was a soft, floral scent that usually made him feel like he could finally breathe. now, it felt like it was choking him.
he saw your favorite oversized hoodie draped over the back of a chair. he picked it up, burying his face in the soft fabric. he expected to feel a sense of closeness, but all he felt was the stinging reality of your absence. the hoodie was cold.
he went to his desk in the corner of the room, the one he rarely used because he was always at the studio. sitting there was a small stack of mail he’d ignored for days. on top was a postcard you’d bought a week ago, something you were planning to send to your parents.
chan is working so hard, you’d written in your neat, looping script. i'm so proud of him. i hope we can all grab dinner when he’s less busy.
"less busy," he choked out, a bitter laugh escaping him.
he was free now. the comeback was delayed. the schedule was cleared. he had all the time in the world, and none of it mattered. he realized then that he’d spent so much time protecting his time with you, guarding his work, and being the leader that he’d forgotten how to just be your person.
and now, he’d never get the chance to learn again.
the sun started to peek through the blinds, casting long, pale strips of light across the floor. it was a new day, which felt like an insult. how was the sun still rising? how was the world still turning when you weren't in it?
he walked back to the kitchen and saw the container of food you’d left. he hadn't touched it. he opened the lid, the smell of braised short ribs—his favorite—wafting up. you must have spent hours on it.
he took a bite, but he couldn't taste anything. it felt like ash in his mouth. he forced himself to swallow, tears finally spilling over and dripping into the container. he ate the whole thing, shivering in the quiet apartment, every bite a penance, every swallow a reminder of what he’d thrown away for the sake of a song that he now hated with every fiber of his being.
he looked at his reflection in the dark screen of his laptop. he looked like a ghost. his eyes were bloodshot, his skin sallow. he looked exactly how he felt: hollowed out.
he reached for a notepad and a pen. his hands were still shaking, but he pressed the tip to the paper. he didn't know who he was writing to—maybe to you, maybe to the void, maybe to the version of himself that had been so arrogant as to think he had forever.
i’ll never forgive myself, he wrote. the ink bled into the paper where a tear hit it. i spent so much time trying to be everything for everyone else that i broke the only thing that actually mattered. you were my home, and i locked the door on you.
he folded the paper and tucked it into the pocket of your hoodie. he stayed there on the floor long after the sun had fully risen, a leader with no one to lead, a producer with no music left in him, just a man sitting in the wreckage of a life he’d accidentally destroyed with one tired, sharp word.
LEE KNOW
it was the silence that felt like a physical blow. lee minho was a man who understood the nuances of noise—the rhythmic thud of a heavy bass line in a practice room, the demanding meows of three cats, the sharp, teasing banter that had been the foundation of your relationship for years. but this silence was different.
it was a vacuum, sucking the air out of his lungs until his chest ached with the effort of breathing.
he was sitting on the floor of his living room, exactly where he had been three days ago when the two of you had had the fight. the remnants of it were still there, mocking him. a knocked-over stack of dance magazines, a half-empty bottle of water, and the heavy, invisible wall he’d built in the heat of the moment.
he’d been exhausted—beyond the point of rational thought. the choreo for the new title track wasn't clicking, his legs were aching, and when you’d shown up at the dorm with a gentle reminder that he’d missed your anniversary dinner, he’d turned into someone he didn't recognize.
"i'm trying to actually build a career here," he’d snapped, his voice a cold, jagged blade. "i don't have time to worry about a calendar every five minutes. if you’re so lonely, go find someone who doesn't have anything better to do than eat overpriced pasta."
he remembered the way you’d recoiled, as if he’d physically struck you. he remembered the way your lip had trembled for a fraction of a second before you’d pulled your mask of composure back on, like you were trying to make the hurt smaller.
you hadn't yelled. you hadn't even said anything. you’d just set your keys on the counter, looked at him with a hollow kind of disappointment, and walked out into the rain.
"go then!" he’d yelled after you, driven by a toxic mix of pride and fatigue. "don't come back until you realize the world doesn't revolve around your dinner plans!"
and you hadn't.
minho stared at his phone, the screen cracked from when he’d thrown it against the wall after the police officer had left his apartment. he’d been staring at the last text he’d sent you, sent only ten minutes after you’d left, when his heart had finally caught up with his mouth.
i’m an idiot. i’m sorry. come back and i’ll make you the stupid pasta myself.
it was marked as delivered. it would never be read.
a soft weight pressed against his side. soonie bumped his head against minho’s arm, letting out a small, questioning meow. the cat knew. animals always knew when the person who smelled like home was missing. minho reached out, his fingers trembling as he stroked soonie’s ears, but the comfort he usually found in his cats was gone. he felt like a fraud.
how could he take care of them when he’d failed so spectacularly at taking care of you?
he stood up, his joints popping, and walked toward the kitchen. he saw your favorite mug sitting in the sink, a ring of dried coffee at the bottom. he couldn't bring himself to wash it. if he washed it, the last physical evidence of your morning together would be rinsed away, down the drain and into the dark.
he leaned against the counter, his eyes burning. minho didn't cry easily. he was the one who kept his emotions tucked away in neat, categorized boxes. but the box labeled you had burst open, and the contents were suffocating him.
he found himself walking toward the hallway closet. he pulled out your heavy winter coat, the one you’d forgotten because you’d been in such a rush to leave his anger behind. he buried his face in the faux-fur collar, inhaling deeply.
it still smelled like your shampoo—something bright and vanilla—and for a split second, his brain tricked him into thinking you were just in the other room.
"i didn't mean it," he choked out, the words muffled by the fabric. "i didn't mean any of it."
he thought about the "what ifs" until his head throbbed. what if he’d just taken a nap before you arrived? what if he’d just said happy anniversary instead of complaining about the choreo? what if he’d run after you the moment the door clicked shut?
the police told him the driver hadn't seen you through the sheets of rain. they told him it was instantaneous, that you didn't suffer. they meant it to be a kindness, but to minho, it was a horror.
he had been the last thing you’d seen—not a sunset, not a smiling face, but his sneering expression and the sound of his cruel voice.
he wandered back into the living room and saw your keys still sitting on the counter. he picked them up, the metal cold against his palm. dangling from the ring was a small, worn-out keychain he’d given you as a joke a year ago. it was a cat with a grumpy face that you’d insisted looked exactly like him when he woke up.
he gripped the keys so hard the edges bit into his skin. he deserved the pain. he deserved the silence. he deserved the way the apartment felt like a tomb.
minho sat back down on the floor, the darkness of the evening beginning to swallow the room. he didn't turn on the lights. he didn't deserve the light. he just sat there with soonie, doongie, and dori hovering nearby, a man who had spent his whole life learning how to move his body with perfect precision, only to realize he’d stepped on the only thing that had ever truly anchored him.
he closed his eyes, and in the quiet, he could almost hear your laugh—the way it used to cut through his moods like a flashlight in a dark basement. it was the most beautiful sound he’d ever known, and he was the one who had silenced it.
"i'll find you," he whispered into the empty air, a promise that felt more like a plea. "next time, i'll find you and i won't let go. i'll never let go."
but for now, there was only the rain against the window and the crushing, eternal weight of the things he had left unsaid.
CHANGBIN
the gym was empty, the fluorescent lights humming with a clinical, biting edge that made the space feel more like a cage than a sanctuary. changbin was staring at a heavy barbell, the iron plates stacked high, but he couldn't bring himself to reach for it.
his hands were shaking. it wasn't the kind of tremor that came from a heavy set of reps; it was the kind that came when your world had collapsed and you were trying to hold up the ceiling with nothing but your bare skin.
it had started with something so stupid. a misunderstanding about a schedule, a missed call, and a week of built-up pressure that he’d decided to unload on the one person who didn't deserve it.
"you're always just there," he’d groaned, his voice dripping with a frustration he didn't actually feel toward you. "don't you have anything else to do? i'm trying to focus on my life, on the group, and i feel like i have to constantly check in with you like i’m reporting to a boss. it’s exhausting."
the silence that followed had been sharp. he’d watched you slowly set down the bag of laundry you’d brought over—his laundry, that you’d picked up because you knew he was too busy to do it.
you hadn't looked angry. you had just looked tired. a deep, bone-weary kind of tired that he’d been too blind to see.
"i'm sorry i'm such a burden, binnie," you’d said softly. "i'll let you get back to your focus."
you’d walked out of the dorm, and he’d let you. he’d actually sat back down on the sofa and felt a twisted sense of "victory" for finally getting some space. he’d waited an hour, then two, his pride slowly dissolving into a hollow ache.
he’d finally picked up his phone to text you a half-hearted apology, but the screen was already flooded with news alerts.
major accident on the highway. flash floods. multiple casualties.
now, changbin sat on a weight bench, his head in his hands. the smell of iron and sweat—usually the things that made him feel powerful—now made him feel nauseous. he looked at his reflection in the wall-to-wall mirrors. he looked strong. he looked like the powerhouse everyone expected him to be.
but inside, he felt like a house of cards in a hurricane.
he’d spent his whole life building himself up, making himself sturdy so he could be a shield for the people he loved. but what was the point of a shield if you used it to crush the person you were supposed to protect?
he reached into his gym bag and pulled out a small, crumpled receipt he’d found in his pocket earlier. it was for a pair of high-end running shoes you’d bought him two weeks ago because you noticed he was complaining about his arches. you’d spent your own savings on them, joking that you were "investing in his gains."
he’d never even thanked you properly.
"i'm so small," he whispered, his voice cracking in the vastness of the gym. "i'm so pathetic."
he finally stood up, but instead of lifting, he walked over to the corner where he kept his personal locker. inside sat a small, handwritten note you’d tucked into his gym bag months ago: don't overdo it today. your muscles need rest, and i need you in one piece. love you!
he pressed the paper to his lips, his shoulders finally heaving. the tears came then—not the quiet, dignified kind, but a violent, racking sob that tore through his chest. he collapsed back onto the bench, the note clutched in his fist like a lifeline.
he thought about the way you used to wait for him at the door, the way you’d always have a protein shake ready, the way you’d listen to his rough demos and tell him his verses were the heart of the song.
you were the only person who saw seo changbin—not the rapper, not the idol, not the bodybuilder, but the man who was often scared he wasn't enough.
and he had told you that was exhausting. he had told you that you were exhausting.
the guilt was a physical weight, heavier than any plate in the room. it was sitting on his chest, squeezing the air out of him. he realized with a terrifying clarity that he would never be able to out-work this pain. he couldn't sweat it out. he couldn't lift it away.
it was a part of him now, a permanent shadow in his peripheral vision.
he stayed in the gym until the sun started to bleed through the high windows, turning the iron plates into silhouettes. he didn't want to go home. home was where your shoes were still by the door. home was where the laundry you’d dropped off was still sitting on the floor, a monument to his own cruelty.
he finally gathered his things, his movements slow and robotic. as he walked toward the exit, his eyes caught the "maximum capacity" sign on the wall.
"i'm at capacity," he muttered, a bitter, broken laugh escaping him.
he walked out into the cool morning air, the city beginning to wake up around him. people were starting their days, coffee cups in hand, oblivious to the fact that the world was missing its brightest light. changbin pulled his hoodie over his head, hiding his face, and began the long walk back to an apartment that was no longer a home.
he didn't know how to move forward. he didn't know how to be himself anymore. how to exist without you.
but as he walked, he kept his hand in his pocket, his fingers tracing the edges of your note. it was the only thing he had left that wasn't heavy.
HYUNJIN
the studio apartment was bathed in a cruel, mocking gold as the sun dipped below the horizon. it was the kind of light hyunjin usually lived for—the perfect golden hour that he would spend hours trying to replicate with tubes of ochre and zinc white.
but now, the light just felt like an intruder. it crept across the floor, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air and the half-finished sketch still sitting on the easel in the corner.
hyunjin was sitting on the floor, his back against the cold brick wall. his long hair was a tangled mess, falling over his eyes, but he didn't have the energy to push it back. his hands, usually so expressive and nimble, were stained dark with charcoal and dried ink, looking bruised in the twilight.
he couldn't stop looking at the door.
it was the last place he’d seen you. he could still hear the sharp, echoing thud of it closing—a sound that had felt like a period at the end of a sentence he wasn't ready to finish.
they had been working on a new performance, and hyunjin had pushed himself past the breaking point. his muscles were screaming, his mind was a frayed wire, and when you had shown up at the practice room with a gentle suggestion that he was overworking himself, he had lashed out.
it wasn't even about you. it was about the fear of not being perfect, the crushing weight of expectation. but you were the one standing there, and you were the one who caught the edge of his tongue.
"you don't get it," he’d hissed, his voice cold and unfamiliar. "you just sit there and watch. you don't understand the pressure. you’re just annoying me right now. if you’re so worried about my health, go worry about it somewhere else. i don't need you hovering over me like i’m some child."
he remembered the way you’d gone still. the way your eyes, usually so full of warmth and soft encouragement, had shuttered. you hadn't even argued. you’d just nodded once, picked up your bag, and left.
"i'm sorry," you’d whispered. "i won't distract you anymore."
two hours later, the manager had walked into the studio, his face pale, his hands shaking as he held his phone.
now, hyunjin reached out and touched the canvas in front of him. it was a portrait of you he’d started weeks ago. he’d wanted to surprise you for your anniversary. he’d captured the way the light hit the bridge of your nose, the specific curve of your smile that only came out when you were laughing at one of his jokes.
but it was unfinished. your eyes were still just empty outlines, waiting for the depth and color he’d promised to add.
he’d never add it. he couldn't. every time he picked up a brush, he felt like he was suffocating.
"i'm sorry," he whispered, the words sounding thin and pathetic in the empty room. "i'm so sorry, i didn't mean it. i was just tired. please, just come back and tell me i’m an idiot."
he stood up unsteadily and walked to the small table by the window. your coffee mug was still there, half-full of cold, stagnant liquid. beside it sat a small scrap of paper where you’d doodled a little ferret while waiting for him to finish a painting session.
he picked up the paper, his fingers tracing the shaky lines. you weren't an artist, but you always tried for him. you’d draw little things to make him smile, to remind him that life existed outside of the lines and the shades.
he collapsed into the chair, clutching the scrap of paper to his chest. the grief wasn't a sharp pain anymore; it was a dull, constant ache, like a bone that had set wrong.
it was the realization that he had spent his whole life trying to create beauty, trying to capture the essence of the world on a flat surface, while the most beautiful thing he’d ever known had been right beside him, and he’d thrown it away because he was tired.
he looked at his paints. the reds looked too much like the sirens he’d seen in his nightmares. the blues were too cold, like the rain that had been falling that night.
hyunjin grabbed a tube of black paint and a palette knife. in a sudden, violent burst of movement, he smeared the dark pigment over the unfinished portrait. he covered your smile, your hair, the bridge of your nose. he couldn't bear to look at the ghost of what he’d destroyed.
when the canvas was nothing but a void of wet, glistening black, he dropped the knife. it hit the hardwood with a hollow metallic sound.
he sank back onto the floor, the shadows of the room finally swallowing him whole. he’d always been a man of colors, of light, of vibrant expression. but as he sat there in the dark, hyunjin realized he had finally painted his masterpiece. it was a perfect representation of his heart: empty, dark, and utterly silent.
he closed his eyes, praying for a dream where the door would open again, and you’d tell him that the light was perfect for a sketch. but the only thing that met him was the silence, and the knowledge that he was finally alone with his art.
HAN
the noise in the studio was usually a comfort to han jisung—a messy, chaotic layer of synth pads, vocal chops, and the frantic clicking of a mouse. but tonight, the silence was screaming. it was a high-pitched, ringing void that seemed to radiate from the empty swivel chair in the corner of the room.
jisung sat at his desk, his hands hovering over the keyboard, but he couldn't remember a single chord. his brain felt like it had been short-circuited. every time he closed his eyes, he saw the same frame: the harsh, fluorescent light of the hallway reflecting in your eyes as you looked at him with a mixture of shock and pure, unadulterated hurt.
it had been such a small thing. he’d been struggling with a bridge for seven hours, the melody slipping through his fingers like sand. when you’d pushed the door open, balancing a tray of iced coffee and your own laptop, he hadn't seen his best friend. he hadn't seen the love of his life, his everything.
he’d seen another distraction.
"can you just—for once—not be in here?" he’d snapped, the words coming out louder and sharper than he’d intended. "i have actual work to do. i can't be your emotional support animal twenty-four-seven. just go. find someone else to cling to for a night."
you hadn't snapped back. you were used to his moods, his high-strung anxiety, his "genius" tantrums. but this had been different. he’d targeted the one thing you were always self-conscious about: your fear of being a burden.
you’d stood there for a long beat, the ice in the coffee cups rattling against the plastic. "okay, hanji," you’d whispered, blinking tears back, your voice so small it barely carried over the hum of the cooling fans. "i'll go."
you’d turned on your heel and disappeared. and jisung, fueled by a toxic surge of adrenaline and a desperate need to finish the track, had turned back to his monitors. he’d worked for another three hours, convinced himself the song was a masterpiece, and finally reached for his phone to send you a meme as a peace offering.
the notifications were already there.
the police report mentioned the rain-slicked pavement and a driver who hadn't seen the pedestrian in the crosswalk. it mentioned the time: 11:14 p.m.
jisung had sent his stupid meme at 11:16 p.m.
now, he grabbed the edges of his desk, his knuckles turning white. he felt like he was drowning in the air of his own studio. he stood up, his legs shaking, and walked over to the corner chair. on the floor beside it was a small, crumpled-up piece of paper. he picked it up, his breath catching in his throat.
it was a doodle. a little quokka with oversized headphones, holding a heart. you’d probably drawn it while waiting for him to finish his previous session, waiting to show it to him when he finally took a break.
"i'm so sorry," he choked out, the sound echoing off the soundproof foam on the walls. "i'm so sorry, angel. i didn't mean it. i love you. i love you clinging to me. i need you to cling to me."
he sank to his knees, burying his face in the seat of the chair where you always sat. it still smelled like your laundry detergent—something soft and clean. he grabbed the fabric, bunching it in his fists, and finally, the dam broke. jisung was a loud person—he laughed loud, he talked loud, he rapped with a piercing intensity—but his grief was a quiet, jagged thing.
it was a series of broken gasps and muffled sobs that felt like they were tearing his lungs apart.
he thought about all the lyrics he’d written about love, about loss, about the "one that got away." they all felt like a joke now. they were just words, shallow and meaningless compared to the crushing reality of your absence.
he realized he’d spent so much time trying to capture the perfect emotion on a track that he’d failed to protect the real emotion standing right in front of him.
he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. he scrolled through your messages, his thumb trembling over the screen. your last text to him was from that afternoon: don't forget to eat, sunshine. i'm bringing coffee later. see you soon!
"sunshine," he whispered, a bitter, agonizing sob escaping him. "you called me sunshine."
he looked at his monitors—the glowing bars of the song that had cost him everything. he reached out and hit the delete key. then he hit confirm.
he watched as the project file, the work of ten hours, the work he’d prioritized over your life, vanished into nothing. it didn't make him feel better. it didn't bring you back. but it was the only thing he had left to sacrifice.
the sun began to creep through the small window of the studio, a pale, grey light that didn't feel like morning. it felt like the end of the world. jisung stayed on the floor, curled into a ball next to your empty chair, the little quokka drawing pressed against his heart.
he was a songwriter, a storyteller, a man who always had a witty comeback or a clever rhyme. but as the world woke up without you, han jisung found he had finally run out of things to say. the only thing left was the silence, and the ghost of a girl who had once called him her sunshine.
FELIX
the apartment still smelled like the apology brownies he’d pulled out of the oven only an hour before the phone rang. it was a sweet, heavy scent—the kind of smell that usually made felix feel like he was wrapped in a warm blanket. now, it made him want to claw his own throat out.
he was standing in the middle of the kitchen, his hands still dusted with a fine layer of powdered sugar. the bright blue mixing bowl was sitting in the sink, half-filled with soapy water. everything was so incredibly normal, so horrifyingly domestic, that it felt like a sick joke.
it had been his fault. he knew it with a certainty that felt like lead in his veins.
they had been fighting over something so small it didn't even have a name. he’d been coming home later and later, his body aching from the physical toll of a world tour, his mind frayed by the constant need to be "on." when you’d gently suggested he take a break—just one night to be lee felix instead of stray kids' felix—he’d snapped.
"you think it's that easy?" he’d rasped, his voice dropping into that deep, jagged register he only used when he was truly hurt. "you think i can just turn it off? you have no idea what i do for this. you’re just sitting here in this perfect little bubble i built for us, judging me. if you hate how much i work so much, then why are you even here?"
the look on your face had haunted him for the forty-five minutes you’d been gone. it wasn't anger; it was the look of someone who had just realized the person they loved most in the world thought they were a burden.
you hadn't even grabbed a proper coat, just your keys and your shoes, walking out into the freezing slush of a seoul february.
"i'll leave you to your work then," you’d said. as much as you tried to hide it, your tears had slipped down your cheeks. that was the worst part. like you had been trying to hide yourself from him.
the phone call from the hospital had been short. precise. the kind of words that didn't leave room for hope. a patch of black ice, a driver who couldn't stop in time, and a girl who had no business being out in a storm without a coat.
felix felt the first wave hit him then. it wasn't grief—not yet. it was a physical rejection from his own body. he stumbled toward the small bathroom off the hallway, his knees hitting the tile with a bone-jarring thud. he barely made it to the toilet before he was retching, his stomach turning itself inside out.
he puked until there was nothing left but bitter bile and the lingering, nauseating taste of the chocolate he’d sampled earlier. he stayed there on the floor, his forehead pressed against the cold porcelain, shivering so hard his teeth clattered. his blonde hair, which he’d spent so much time styling for your date night at home, was damp with sweat and stuck to his temples.
"please," he gasped into the empty, tiled room. "please, not her. anyone but her. take me. it was me. i said it. please."
he crawled back into the hallway, his movements slow and agonizing. he reached the coat rack and saw your spare scarf hanging there—the soft, pink one with the loose threads at the end. he pulled it down, wrapping it around his hand, pressing it to his face.
it still smelled like the perfume he’d bought you for christmas.
he thought about your hands. he thought about how they were always warm, even when his were like ice. he thought about how you used to trace the freckles on his cheeks like they were stars in a constellation only you could see.
and he thought about how those hands were now cold, sitting in a room with white sheets and bright lights, because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut.
the sunshine of the group.
that’s what everyone called him. he was the one who brought the light, the one who gave the hugs, the one who made sure everyone else was okay. but as he sat on the floor of his dark hallway, felix realized the sun had finally gone out. he had extinguished it himself.
he looked toward the kitchen, where the brownies were still sitting on the cooling rack. they looked perfect. they looked like a "sorry" that would never be heard.
he let out a sound—a high, broken keen that didn't sound like a human voice at all. it was the sound of a boy who had finally realized that all the brownies and heart-shaped notes and grand gestures in the world couldn't fix a broken soul.
he’d wanted to give you the world, but instead, he’d given you the street on a rainy night.
he curled into a ball on the floor, the scarf clutched so tight his fingers went numb. he didn't want to get up. he didn't want to go to the hospital to identify a body that used to be his home. he just wanted to stay here in the dark, in the smell of chocolate and the cold, until the world forgot he ever existed.
"i'm sorry, angel," he whispered, his voice a ghost of itself. "i'm so, so sorry."
the clock on the wall ticked—a rhythmic, heartless sound that reminded him he was still alive, and you weren't. and for lee felix, that was the greatest punishment of all.
SEUNGMIN
the air in seungmin’s apartment was stagnant, heavy with the scent of unwashed coffee mugs and the faint, lingering smell of your favorite citrus perfume. he was sitting at his small dining table, the one where you’d spent countless nights helping him memorize lyrics or just arguing over which convenience store had the best spicy ramen.
in front of him was a notebook, open to a blank page. his pen was held loosely in his hand, the tip resting on the paper until a small, dark blot of ink began to spread, staining the wood beneath. seungmin was known for his precision—for the way he hit every note with surgical accuracy and the way his life was organized into neat, predictable rows.
but precision didn't help when the world stopped making sense.
he’d been the one to start the fight. it was a stupid, prideful thing about timing and careers. he’d been stressed, his voice feeling strained after a long recording session, and when you’d suggested he take a day off to rest, he’d turned that sharp, observational wit of his into a weapon.
"you’re so focused on the now, but i’m trying to build something that lasts," he’d said, his voice quiet but biting. "you don't get it because you don't have to be perfect for anyone. i do. so just stop acting like you know what's best for me. it’s annoying."
he remembered the way you’d blinked, the hurt flashing behind your eyes before you’d masked it with that careful, yet kind, expression you only used when he was being particularly difficult.
"i'm sorry for being annoying, seungmin," you'd said, eyes wet. you hadn't slammed the door. you’d closed it softly, with the same gentleness you’d always shown him.
that was four days ago.
the call had come from the hospital later that night. a driver had run a red light. a pedestrian in the crosswalk. no time to react.
seungmin finally dropped the pen. it clattered against the table, the sound echoing too loudly in the silence. he stood up, his movements stiff, and walked into the kitchen. on the counter sat a small box of herbal tea you’d bought for him because you were worried about his throat.
he hadn't even opened it yet.
he reached out, his fingers tracing the plastic wrap. he’d spent his whole life being the anchor, the one who stayed grounded while everyone else drifted. but without you, there was no ground left to stand on.
he walked toward the window, looking down at the street below. the city was still moving, people were still laughing, and the cars were still rushing through the intersection where everything had ended. it felt like a betrayal.
how could the world be so loud when you were so quiet?
"you didn't deserve that. you're too kind to me. too good," he whispered, his forehead pressing against the cold glass. "too good for me."
he went to his closet and pulled out a hoodie—one you used to steal all the time because it was too big for you. he buried his face in the fabric, desperate for a hint of you, but the scent was fading, replaced by the sterile smell of his own life.
he thought about all the times he’d teased you for your "poor life choices," all the times he’d played the role of the cynical boyfriend while secretly counting down the seconds until he could see you again. he’d been so busy being the person who knew everything that he’d forgotten to be the person who said anything.
he couldn't remember the last time that he told you he loved you. it hadn't been on the last day he'd seen your face. but what about before that?
he tried to retrace the weeks, digging through the mundane conversations about groceries or the weather, looking for the words. it felt like they had just slipped into the background, something assumed rather than said.
maybe he’d muttered it while you were half-asleep, or maybe he’d just thought it so loudly he convinced himself he’d actually spoken it aloud. now, the silence of the room just made the lack of it feel heavy, like a debt he’d forgotten to pay until it was too late to settle up.
what if you'd died doubting that he had? that he did love you?
seungmin sank to the floor, his back against the bed, pulling his knees to his chest. he wasn't a messy person, but his grief was a disaster. it was a jagged, unpolished thing that didn't fit into a four-four time signature.
he closed his eyes and tried to remember the sound of your laugh, but all he could hear was the click of the door closing and the sound of his own cold voice telling you to go.
"i'm an idiot, pup," he choked out, the nickname feeling like a physical weight in his throat. "i'm just an idiot."
he stayed there until the room went dark, the only light coming from the streetlamps outside. he was waiting for the buzzing of his phone, for a message asking for an sos, for a rescue flare that would never come.
the most observant man in the room had missed the only thing that mattered, and now, seungmin was finally left with a silence he couldn't fix.
I.N.
the cold on the rooftop was the only thing that felt honest anymore. it was a sharp, biting wind that cut through the layers of jeongin’s coat, stinging his cheeks and numbing the tips of his fingers. he stood near the edge, his chest heaving as he tried to catch a single, clean breath of air.
but the oxygen felt thin, like it was being filtered through a thick layer of ash.
it had been two weeks since the news. two weeks since you walked out of his apartment, teary-eyed and hurt, because of him. because of his cruelty.
and jeongin felt as though he had been submerged underwater the entire time. the world was a blur of muffled voices, bright stage lights that felt like needles in his eyes, and a relentless, crushing pressure in his lungs.
he didn't think he would ever breathe properly again. the simple act of inhaling felt like a betrayal. how could he fill his lungs when yours had stopped?
he leaned his weight against the cold metal railing, his head dropping into his hands. his body felt heavy, a shell of the person he used to be. every muscle ached with the fatigue of trying to pretend he wasn't hollow.
tucked between his shaking fingers was a small, faded slip of paper—a ticket stub from the very first date the two of you had gone on. it was a movie he hadn't even liked, a poorly paced thriller that you’d spent the entire time whispering critiques about into his ear.
he had kept it in the secret compartment of his wallet, a lucky charm he’d pull out whenever the pressure of being an idol felt like it was too much to carry. it was his anchor. it was proof that he was loved by someone who didn't care about his stage name.
for a split second, the wind whistled through the vents of the building, and jeongin’s heart stopped. it sounded like a hum—the specific, soft melody you used to absentmindedly whistle when you were focused on a task.
"angel?" he breathed, his head snapping up from his hands.
his eyes darted frantically across the rooftop, his pulse racing with a sudden, agonizing burst of hope. for one beautiful, terrifying moment, he expected to see you leaning against the doorway, your hair windswept and a teasing smile on your face, telling him he was being dramatic.
but the roof was empty. the hope died as quickly as it had flared, leaving behind a coldness that was even deeper than before.
he looked down, his gaze drifting toward the street below. across the road, a girl was walking, her laughter carried upward by the wind. she was glowing under the streetlamps, her hand firmly interlaced with a boy’s as they swung their arms between them.
they were young—his age—and happy, and entirely oblivious to the fact that a world had ended just a few stories above them.
in the distraction of the moment, jeongin’s grip on the ticket stub loosened. a stray, aggressive gust of wind caught the corner of the paper, snatching it from his numbed fingertips.
the ticket stub fluttered out of his hand, caught by a stray gust of wind, and he watched as it danced over the edge of the railing, disappearing into the dark abyss of the city below.
"no," he gasped, his body lunging forward, his hands grasping at the empty air where the paper had been a second before. "no, please. wait!"
he gripped the railing so hard the metal dug into his palms, his eyes scanning the darkness for a flash of white. but the street was a sea of moving lights and shadows, and the ticket—the last tangible piece of that first night—was gone.
it wasn't just the ticket. it was the realization that he couldn't hold onto any of it. not the smell of your hair, not the sound of your voice, not the way you looked when you were laughing at his terrible jokes.
it was all leaking away, dissolving into memory, and he was powerless to stop it. soon, he feared, even the memories would start to fray at the edges, and he would be left with nothing but the shape of a person he used to love.
the first sob broke out of him like a physical wound. it was a jagged, raw sound that tore through the quiet of the night. he collapsed onto his knees, his forehead pressing against the cold concrete of the roof. sobs racked his thin frame, violent and unforgiving, shaking him until his vision blurred with tears.
he felt so small. he was supposed to be the one who stayed strong, the one who kept the peace, the one who smiled through the exhaustion. but the smile was gone, replaced by a grief that was too big for his body to contain.
jeongin looked through the gaps in the railing at the drop below. it would be so easy. a single step, a moment of weightlessness, and then the quiet. the noise in his head would finally stop. the constant, agonizing ache in his chest would vanish.
he could follow the path of the ticket to the ground, and maybe, in whatever came next, he would find you waiting there with that same ticket in your hand.
he stood up slowly, his legs feeling like lead. he placed one hand on the top of the railing, looking down at the pavement. the thought of the impact didn't scare him; what scared him was the thought of waking up tomorrow and having to do this all over again.
but as he looked out over the city, he stopped. his hand gripped the metal until his knuckles turned white.
"i don't get to go," he whispered, his voice thick with salt and despair.
he didn't deserve the easy way out. he didn't deserve to escape the pain he felt. if he left now, who would remember the way you looked in the morning? who would remember the specific way you’d tuck your chin when you were embarrassed? if he died, those memories died with him, and he couldn't let you disappear completely.
he had to live with it. he had to carry the weight of your absence until it became a part of his bones, a permanent shadow in his soul. that was his duty to you. to bear the pain, to feel every second of the silence, and to keep your name alive in a world that had already moved on.
jeongin slid back down against the wall, his face hidden in his knees as the wind continued to howl around him. he stayed there long after his tears had dried, long after his skin had turned blue from the cold. he was alone on the roof, a boy who had lost his anchor and his heart, and for the first time in his life, he didn't try to hide the darkness.
he just sat there, breathing in the cold air, waiting for the sun to rise on a world that would never be bright again.
they call you clingy on tour : hyung line ( part two )
➪ pairing : hyung line skz x reader
➪ summary : a continuation to part one. your boyfriend realizes how badly he messed up, now he has to beg you to hear him out, you however are very spiteful.
➪ other notes : i made all of the endings like this on purpose, no part 3 will be made :) maknae line version should be out soon but it’s i still don’t have a specific date yet.
In which you gave them a silent treatment after both of you got into an argument
Hers's my masterlist if you are interested to read more of my work! hihi!!
Maknae Line
Bang Chan
At first, Chan respects your silence.
He thinks you need space. He’s mature so he tells himself that backing off is the right thing. But as the hours pass, the silence settles into the room like a storm cloud, and it weighs on him in ways he doesn’t expect.
He keeps himself busy. Cleans the kitchen. Does the laundry. Organizes the files on his laptop. Anything to distract from the heavy stillness between you.
But your silence cuts deep.
He glances over at you often watching your face when you’re scrolling on your phone or pretending to nap. He knows you’re hurting. And that he caused it.
At night, he lies beside you without touching you, just quietly whispering things like:
“You know… I didn’t mean to make you feel alone.”
The next day, he gives up the waiting. He stands in the doorway, voice raw:
“Baby, please. I can take you yelling at me. I deserve it. But don’t shut me out like I’m a stranger… Not you.”
And when your eyes finally lift to meet his teary, unsure, he walks straight to you and wraps his arms around you tight, whispering apologies against your hair like prayers.
Lee Know (Minho)
Minho doesn’t chase silence.
In fact, when you stop speaking to him, he stops speaking too. Cold glances. Tense air. A dangerous quiet.
He walks past you like he doesn’t care but you see it. The way his eyes linger just a second too long. The way he silently places your slippers by your feet when you forget. The way he keeps the food warm even though you don’t come to eat with him.
He pretends not to be bothered.
But inside, he’s spiraling.
Minho is the type to hurt in silence. And your silence feels like punishment. Like rejection. Like abandonment.
He breaks the distance eventually, catching your hand when you walk past him and holding it just tightly enough to make you stop.
“I know I don’t say sorry well. I know I push too hard. But don’t disappear from me like this.”
He lifts your hand to his cheek, eyes flickering.
“Just tell me what to do. Anything. I’ll do it. Just talk to me again.”
Changbin
Changbin takes your silence personally.
At first, he reacts loudly pacing, muttering, sighing dramatically in hopes you’ll react.
“Okay! Fine! I messed up! I said something stupid! You don’t need to treat me like a ghost.”
But when you still don’t respond, he gets quiet. Really quiet.
He sits on the edge of the bed, hunched over with his elbows on his knees, head in his hands. You can feel the regret radiating off him.
He’ll start doing small things, placing your favorite snacks where you can see them, playing your comfort playlist on low volume, wrapping a blanket around your shoulders when he thinks you’re asleep.
One night, he knocks on the door gently and speaks with a voice barely above a whisper:
“I know you’re angry. And you have every right to be. But… please don’t hate me. Please don’t leave me alone like this.”
He won’t stop trying until you turn to him, until your silence breaks and he’ll apologize ten more times just to make sure you really know how sorry he is.
Hyunjin
Hyunjin is dramatic by nature but when it comes to your silence, it hits different.
At first, he’s confused. Then anxious. Then flat-out emotional.
He tries everything, talking, hugging you from behind, doing over-the-top aegyo just to get you to laugh.
“Are you doing this because I said that dumb thing? I didn’t mean it, you know that, right?”
He writes a poem about it. Then paints something. Then leaves the painting by your bedside without saying anything.
Eventually, he breaks down, not in anger, but in fragile desperation.
“You not talking to me… it makes me feel like I don’t exist in your world anymore.”
He’ll cry quietly in the corner of the room, curled up on the floor like a lost child, until you sit beside him. When you finally speak, even one word, his head shoots up and he wipes his tears, whispering:
“Don’t ever shut me out like that again. I’d rather you scream at me than pretend I don’t matter.”
plot: you get hired as a nanny to watch changbin's daughter and life suddenly turns around for you, but what he doesn't know is that you are actually broke and living in your car. a lifestyle you can't let him know about as you can't lose the one thing good in your life, him and his daughter.
pairing: single dad! changbin x fem! reader
genre: angst, single dad x nanny, hurt/comfort, slightly suggestive (lol what is happening to me)
word count: 5.4k
warnings: mentions of domestic violence in relationship, parents leaving, suggestive (make out),
a/n: I can't believe so many of you loved the first part and for that I'm suuuuper grateful so of course I come with a second part!
masterlist | part one
The weekend was nearing its end on Monday. You had to go back to Changbin’s and face the embarrassment again. On friday you had called in sick and before Changbin could ask any questions about you or the situation you hung up. You felt bad letting Eunyeong down by, for her, randomly not showing up. But even a kid would know that you can’t help being sick. Both you and Changbin did everything in your power to keep Eunyeong away from the negative situation, which meant you had to go back to normal. But how could you? You had stood there face to face with Changbin and told him that you love both of them, at the same time as he had found out that you were living in your car.
You had to change your parking spots as you were afraid Changbin might see you in the supermarket again. A part of you wanted to call in sick again for this upcoming work week, but it wouldn’t be worth it. You knew you weren’t coming in for the money anymore, it was about Eunyeong. If it kept on for too long she would soon understand that you weren’t coming back at all. Changbin never mentioned Eunyeong’s mother and where she was, in the house there were no pictures of her and Eunyeong never talked about her either. But what she did mention was that she wasn’t outside a lot, and if she wasn’t in school she felt really lonely. Something inside of you related to that feeling of hers, she had you and you had her.
Would it really be so bad to go back? Maybe Changbin could look past it, he had tried texting you but you still refused to read any of them. Your mind was filled with messages that didn’t exist, imaginations of what there could be in those messages. Maybe he already fired you over text? Should you really be coming back then? Or was it worth a try to go?
A part of you wanted to approach Changbin about this. Just tell him everything and explain why things had become how they were. You never doubted that he would understand, in fact, he would probably understand better than anyone else right now. But the embarrassment always took over, and with Eunyeong around you just always seemed to forget about the bad stuff for a while. And now that you had also admitted that you loved him along with Eunyeong, then what more could you do? Feeling like this for someone who also was your employer wasn’t at all right, but deep in your memories you remember what he had said as well.
“I shouldn’t be feeling like that for you as you help my daughter every day“
Did he really mean it in the way that you had too? Was all of it real? And what did he think of you now? What if running out ruined everything? There were so many questions and you could have your answers if you went back, but you couldn’t.
Back in his home Changbin felt the same. He didn’t know what to do. His feelings never changed, in fact he longed even more to bring you into his home and make you feel safe. But something right now felt impossible to him. He kept wondering what had happened to you that made you so closed in, who put you in that position?
“I can’t let someone in again, because he put me in that situation”
The sentence replayed in his head multiple times, wh was this “he” that you were talking about?
Monday came too fast, here you were once again parked in the same supermarket parking lot, not ready at all but having to drive over to Eunyeong’s school again to pick her up. If you didn’t start driving soon you would end up being late but both your breathing and shaky hands were difficult to control. It was nothing to be nervous about right now. Eunyeong knows nothing about your situation and you could easily be out before Changbin came home. Or all you would have to do was say hi and then go, as you did in the start.
Or so you thought. The drive with Eunyeong was as it always was, you discussed what she did at school, she showed you a drawing she made and of course asked why you didn’t come see her during Friday even if she knew you were sick. She was mostly curious about how sick you were, but one excuse was done and Eunyeong had already let it pass. When you drove up the familiar driveway your usual spot wasn’t there, because Changbin’s car was already here. Which made Eunyeong ecstatic to see that her dad was home already but you couldn’t move. Your body froze and your ears had closed out Eunyeong’s happy squeals and questions to why you weren’t moving or unlocking the door.
“Huh what?” you said as you snapped out. Looking to your right and seeing Eunyeong’s confused face.
“I think my dad is home! See! It’s his car!” she said while pointing to the black SUV in front of you. “Let’s go inside! He is never home now!” she continued while pulling at the car door.
“Yes… yes Eunyeong we will wait a second” you answered while unbuckling your belt and hers. She was barely out of the seat yet and her first instinct was to open the door and not unbuckle first.
You understood Eunyeong right now, and she was the most important part of this job. If she says go inside you obviously have to go inside. Even if he was in there waiting for the two of you. Because you knew that this wasn’t a coincidence that he was suddenly home from his work on the first day of this week, the first day you are back from the weekend. After not seeing each other for three days now, you knew that he had probably planned this himself. While unlocking the car door Eunyeong basically flew out the door and ran up the driveway. You followed close behind while trying to control your breathing, it would all be fine and you tried your best to convince yourself that he wouldn’t be mad about this. Even if it was difficult, go in there for Eunyeong and Eunyeong only. Yet your heart was telling you it was also for someone else.
Your shaky hands slowly went up to unlock the door and once again Eunyeong was already way past you and inside in an instant. And it was like Changbin appeared at the door as soon as it was unlocked, making your breath hitched at the sight of him again.
“Daaaad!” Eunyeong yelled as she ran inside, shoes and jacket still on, as she jumped into his arms. The sight made your nervous heart disappear, it was warming you a lot that Eunyeong got to see her dad as soon as she came home. Even if it bothered you that he was probably here to talk to you, you couldn’t let your own feelings go over her’s.
“Hi Yeongie, had a good day at school?” he answered while helping her take off her jacket and shoes, not paying any attention to you so far.
“Yes! Today I raised my hand and the answer was right! I’m so smart!” she said, having even more energy than she’s ever had before. You could tell it wasn’t often that she got to see her dad immediately after school and tell him what happened. So all you could do was admire the sight as you undressed as well.
“That you are! Why don’t you run up and wash your hands and then we have a snack in the backyard?” he asked her, making her jump up and down.
“Really?! Y/N! I get to play in the back!” she turned around and ran up to you, making you smile and giggle with her.
“I heard! Go wash up quickly then so we can play more?” she only nodded at you and immediately took off upstairs, almost like she could fly as her tiny body disappeared.
Only silence was left between you and Changbin. You didn’t know where to look as you stood in the narrow hallway with him, it was either looking at him or the roof. So you tried looking at anything but him. But it was also impossible. His eyes were actively searching for yours while yours were doing their best to avoid his. Someone had to say something, but you didn’t know what to start with. You could either address it immediately or pretend like nothing had happened the last time you were here.
Like he hadn’t seen you at your worst and broken down the last time he looked into your eyes.
“Y/N, would you please look at me?” he suddenly said, starling you while you closed your eyes out of frustration.
Your gaze fell down instead as you felt the stress making your eyes water. This was not gonna happen again, you did your best to blink the tears away but nothing could make you look up at him. So instead he had taken the step and walked closer to you. He didn’t do anything, he started by just standing close to you. Then eventually moved his hands up to your shoulders, trying to get you to look at him again.
“Y/N we don’t have to talk about it now, just please let’s get through this day. I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable, so let’s wait until Eunyeong is asleep and we can talk then. But right now you don’t have to think about it. Just see this as a normal work day” he said, his head close to yours but still not looking at each other. His words took you by surprise, making you slowly raise your head. Hands quickly drying the tears stained on your cheeks. “Please?” he said now that you were looking at each other. And with no words you nodded at his question, making him give you that pretty smile he has always had.
“Dad! Y/N! I’m done now, let’s eat!” Eunyeong said while running down the stairs, interrupting the two in the hallway.
Both of them took a deep breath together while moving on with the day as usual. Eunyeong got her snack which consisted of a sandwich and some fruit, yet she seemed more focused on the backyard as she grabbed the snack and immediately ran towards the glass sliding doors at the back of the living room. Nothing in the moment seemed bad between you and Changbin, probably because the moment of Eunyeong being happy took over and it was all the two of you could think about. You could see that this moment meant a lot to Eunyeong, not only because Changbin was home today but because you were here with them. You didn’t know that yourself, but both Changbin and Eunyeong knew that this was more special because you were here with them. And they didn’t wanna change anything about it.
Eunyeong had fallen asleep in your arms, all her energy was drained from playing outside and her dinner definitely played a part in this too since Changbin had made some meatballs and pasta for her, her favorite. Putting her in her pajamas you tucked her in as usual and as always took in the warm feeling of seeing her once again. Slowly closing the door, trying your best to not wake her up. Changbin was waiting downstairs and you knew this conversation would end up happening at some point now. You just wished you could run away from it.
As you reached the bottom of the stairs Changbin was already sitting on the couch with two cups of tea in front of him. You tried making yourself as ready as you could be for this conversation, letting your feet drag you into the living room and join Changbin on the couch. You sat on the one in front of him just like you did during your interview and let the heat from the cup spread between your hands. It was just as quiet as before, but now you felt like you could look at him. Now and then hiding behind the cup as you take a sip of your tea.
“Do you wanna start or should…?” you asked nervously, trying to just get this over with somehow.
“I just…” he starts, not really knowing where and how he should put it. So you just stay quiet until he knows what to say. “I wondered where I went wrong. Did I push you too far or did I make you uncomfortable?”
“No, no why would you say that-”
“Because I felt like I could’ve made you open up more, or maybe if you were more comfortable you would’ve told me…” you could see where this was going, and it wasn’t what you had intended for this to turn into. He was blaming himself. And you understood where he was coming from, because he was never supposed to find out the way that he did.
In the end you had never really planned for him to find out at all, because you never expected for yourself to feel the way you felt about him. His drive to keep you safe, letting you stay here if it was late at night, seeing you as a good nanny for Eunyeong, just seeing you and who you were as a person, everything that he did for you made your heart skip beats that you hadn’t felt before. That the void your ex left in you that led you to being homeless was being filled by someone who wanted to keep you around and never let you go, he happened to be someone who employed you. And now he was blaming himself for what someone else did to you.
“Changbin please… just listen” you said, looking at him with desperate but sad eyes. And with that he kept quiet, fiddling with his hands, now he was just as nervous as you had been before. “You don’t have to blame yourself at all. None of this is on you and I never really planned for this to even get out. I just needed a job and for you to employ me on such short notice I have never been so grateful in my entire life. But you and Eunyeong have been so lovely towards me that this didn’t feel like a job anymore. You both make me forget that I have a miserable lifestyle outside of this that it never really crossed my mind to tell you. But whenever you asked me to stay here I felt nervous because not only is this your home I’m also…” towards the end you wondered if you should bring up the end of your last conversation. But maybe it was too early… “Embarrassed” you answered instead, which wasn’t a lie either.
“You know… Eunyeong doesn’t know that much about her mother. It’s been difficult managing everything because it keeps feeling like I let my daughter down” he starts, making you nervous about what actually happened before you came here. “Eunyeong’s mother decided she couldn’t handle the responsibility so she left a little before Eunyeong had her first birthday. Since then I’ve done everything I can to make sure that she has it well and I never knew what the missing piece was… until you showed up. I never asked for you to be her mother, never would I put that on you. But you became someone who saw her and I’ve never admired someone as much as I admire you Y/N” he continued, your heart skipping a beat at how he never forgot to mention that you were special to him.
You didn’t understand how someone could just leave on them, you weren’t a mother yourself so of course everyone had their reasons. But these two were the best thing that had happened to you and if anything, you only wanted them to stay in your life forever. Yet Changbin wasn’t done, as you didn’t know what to say either, he wasn’t done making sure that you knew how he felt for you.
“Is it so difficult for you to believe that I do wanna keep you safe? Not only as Eunyeong’s nanny but also as someone I’m interested in?” he asked, making your eyes go big from his sudden confession. “Y/N I know that this is probably very unprofessional of me to say, simply because I employed you. But I also wanna be honest and say that I find you so interesting, and I really wanna get to know you more outside of this. I don’t care if you live in your car, because the only thing I see and think about is the person right in front of me now” he continued, making your eyes water a little bit from his sweet words. “You take such good care of Eunyeong and I’m so grateful that I found you. Not only because of this job, also because I see you, I really do. And I want you to know that when I ask you to stay here it’s because I care, not because I feel sorry for you or feel like you’re any less than anyone. I know that you can work hard on your own, but you work so hard that you don’t see the damage you do to yourself. If someone walks past your car they could easily smash your windows and hurt you and I…” he pauses, not wanting to finish his sentence as he thinks of something. “I don’t know what I would do if you got hurt living like that”
Right now you can't keep your emotions inside anymore. To think that someone cared for you so much that even the thought of you getting hurt was hurting him, and to think that someone just wanted you to be safe, what a feeling that was. And right now you could only express it through tears, because you didn’t know where to go at all. Changbin reacted immediately as he saw your panicked tear stained face. He was quickly by your side and taking the cup into his hands to place on the table. He placed his hands on either side of your shoulders and like a perfect puzzle piece he brought you into a much needed hug.
However long you needed he let you cry into his shoulders, tightening his hug around you as he could feel your panicked shaking body. One hand was going up and down your back and he himself wanted to cry as he couldn’t imagine what was going through your head right now. That you must be very overwhelmed and panicked from all of this and all he could do was hug you.
“Y/N you always have a home here okay? I don’t want you to doubt that, okay?” he asked, not expecting an answer. But against his shoulder he could feel a small nod as your hand gripped the side of his shirt. And that was more than enough of an answer for him.
The next day you woke up in a comfortable bed. A bed that certainly wasn’t yours, but you quickly realized that you were still at Changbin’s place. Checking the time it was in the middle of the day, which made you shoot up and fly out the bedroom door. You had to pick Eunyeong up in an hour yet you were still here and not even properly dressed. When the door opened you were immediately met with Changbin sitting on the couch, same as yesterday. Looking to the couch on the right you saw a pillow and a blanket folded, making you realize he slept out here and you had taken the bed.
He must’ve seen you puzzle everything together since he quickly walked up to you and stood in the way of you seeing the living room.
“I know what you’re thinking, and you fell asleep on the couch first. I put you on the bed, it was my decision. So please don’t feel bad about it. I didn’t wanna change your clothes since you were still sleeping but I was gonna start some lunch soon, so feel free to find something of mine to use, okay?” Just like yesterday he ended his sentence with an okay, just to see if you were both okay with the situation but also to not make you doubt his words. He was making sure that you understood that none of this was any pressure and it was all his decision, so nothing was wrong from your side.
“Okay… but what about Eunyeong? I have to pick her up”
“Oh it’s all good, I arranged for her to go home with a friend she has in the neighbourhood. Before I thought about having a nanny for her they used to go home together a lot. But I had to hire a nanny because Eunyeong didn’t really like going to their house. So for her request I changed it up, so now it should be fine since she’s coming straight home”
With everything sorted he explained that you would still be paid for this day, even if money was the least you could think about right now. But he explained that he had to go back to work later in the evening for a few hours so you needed to do your usual routine with Eunyeong.
While in Changbin’s room again you felt bad to use his clothes, but his “okay” method was working as you also would feel bad to keep using your own now. Since you had actually agreed with him. It somehow made you smile, that he had found his way to make you trust him but also be okay with everything that was happening. So you just grabbed a pair of grey sweatpants and a simple black shirt. When you walked back out again the smell of food met your nose and it almost felt like a home should feel like.
As Changbin finished up cooking some lunch he looked around and suddenly saw you. And even if your eyes couldn’t read his, there were a million compliments running through his mind right now. To see you make yourself at home in his house, it made him feel a lot of different feelings and his heart was beating rapidly.
“It smells nice” you said as you leaned against the dinner table.
He answered with his usual cute smile and plated everything up. You could tell that something inside of him was so happy right now that he got you to use his clothes and let you cook for him. The lunch though had become rather quiet, maybe because you took it slow. Nothing had happened between the two of you, but some type of intimacy was growing. None of you were in denial of what you felt for each other, but it was difficult for both of you to take that next step and confess something more. Changbin had already but you didn’t know how to respond to it. You didn’t want him to feel used for his home, you still only had your car.
Then suddenly the door opened and Eunyeong was home from school, bringing you both back to the reality of employer and the employed.
Changbin had promised to be back quickly from work, he still wanted to talk about yesterday’s topics but also explore what you two had even more. Eunyeong had been ecstatic to see that you were already at their house and wanted the two of you to start playing immediately. But just like yesterday she fell asleep as all the playing and jumping was tiring her out a lot. So after a quick dinner Eunyeong was soon in bed, leaving you with a quiet home. Changbin had requested you to start using both the TV and his books more as his shelves collected a lot of dust, so today you thought the TV could be worth a try.
You tried your best to become even more comfortable in his home, but a part of you still stayed scared since you didn’t know how long this could last. You didn’t wanna use it as if you were staying permanently, you were still just working here. But at the same time Changbin seemed upset if you didn’t do that, so you tried as much as you could.
A sudden ring on the doorbell startled you. Looking at the clock, Changbin would not be home until another 10 minutes, he had sent you a previous text saying he was gonna start driving from work soon which wasn’t too far away. But he also wouldn’t ring the bell if it was his own home. So who could be showing up at this hour?
You approached the door slowly, trying to think about who it possibly could be. And when your hands unlocked the door and let it open, it definitely wasn’t who you expected it to be.
“Minsu?!” your ex boyfriend. Not only your ex boyfriend but also the guy who put you in your car from the start.
“Y/N finally, I’ve been trying to contact you” you didn’t know if he actually meant that, as he was blocked on every platform that he could be blocked on, including his phone number.
“But how… why are you here?” you asked, panic rising as Eunyeong was upstairs and this was not even your home, so how did he find you?
“Why are you here? That is my question. You don’t even live here?” and how did he even know that?
“How do you even know I was here then?”
“Oh you think just because you moved out I wouldn’t know? Your car is parked at the supermarket down the road, not difficult to figure out. Also those boxes in your car? You don’t even live here do you?”
All of this was just creeping you out, how could he think that this behaviour was normal? Without answering you closed the door in his face, even with Eunyeong upstairs you thought about how slamming it on him would wake her up. And she would have to see an unfamiliar man at her doorstep. You heard him yell from outside and you never thought this nightmare would come back to you. You didn’t know why he was here or why you would even care. All you cared about was if he left soon.
The door was locked and he kept yelling stuff through the door, you just kept his words outside of your head, hoping to fade away from this soon. And just like a knight in shining armour you heard another familiar voice outside, Changbin’s voice.
“Excuse me, who are you?” you heard Changbin ask Minsu outside the door.
“Minsu. Who are you?”
“I live here, why are you outside of here yelling and bothering my family?”
Family. What a weird word, yet it felt so comforting and nice hearing Changbin call you that. Or maybe he didn’t wanna tell Minsu you were inside even if he already knew that. But it still puts a small smile on your face to think that Changbin included you in that word.
“Family? Her?! Yeah sure that girl has never earned anything-”
“That girl has a name and if you don’t get off of my porch soon I will call the cops on you, so please leave”
And with that there was nothing more to the conversation, indicating that Minsu had left already. As the front door opened, revealing a frustrated Changbin his eyes immediately saw yours peeking out from the kitchen. Making him drop his bag and throw his shoes off to run to you immediately and bring you in for a hug.
“Hey, did he hurt you? How long has he been out there? Who was he?” all of his questions were filling your mind, but all you could do was try your best to feel safe in his arms.
Trying to let the time pass you both made sure Minsu had left before you could sit down and talk. You promised him everything was fine but you had to tell him now why things were like they were, whether it was crushing you or not. You knew that you could trust Changbin with this information. So you sat him down at the dinner table to tell him everything.
“Basically me and Minsu used to date. It was lovely and eventually he moved into my apartment with me. But the longer we lived together the more I saw his bad sides and he eventually decided to…” you started, not really wanting to say it out loud but you had to. Changbin could see it was difficult for you and took your hands into his. “He decided to put his hands on me. And with that he pulled some strings on my work, he somehow got me off my lease to the apartment and with that I had no income and nowhere to live. All because we fought a few times and he had enough, so he hit me. And I had to leave” you said, a single tear leaving your eye.
You weren’t crying because of what happened, it somehow felt good to finally tell someone what happened rather than pushing it away and try to forget about it. The tears came from the relief of finally being able to tell another person what you were going through. And he wasn’t judging you for anything. His thumb was stroking the back of your hand, trying his best to make you feel safe and comforted in his space. And you knew you were, you had not doubted anything at all.
“Y/N I can’t imagine what all of this must’ve felt like for you. But knowing that he is out there and he knows you’re here. Please… stay here. I want you here with me”
With me. Those words meant a lot to you. He wasn’t talking about Eunyeong or the work, he was only talking about the two of you. He stood up from his chair, not letting go of your hand and kneeled down in front of the chair you were sitting in. His hopeful eyes looking into your sad ones, you could see in his eyes that he meant everything he said to you, all he wanted was a yes.
A part of you couldn’t keep your feelings in place anymore, you knew that you wanted to stay here with him. And the ways he wanted you to stay here too only made you even more sure that this was the right decision. But without answering with words you decided to let your feelings guide you instead, so you leaned down and let your lips close the distance between the two of you. He responded immediately, not hesitating to kiss back. Like this was something he had been waiting for forever. Your hands travelled up to the back of his head and his hands fell onto your waist as the two of you stood up, not breaking the kiss.
It felt perfect, the two of you together just like it was meant to be. If he pulled back to catch his breath he closed the distance immediately after that. He never wanted his lips to leave yours, causing him to bring you in more and make it more heated.
When you pulled away to catch your breath again your forehead fell on his, hearing his heavier breathing only made his words sound even more desperate.
“Please Y/N, stay here. Be safe here with me” his hands were still keeping you close to him with a grip on your waist, and your hands brought him closer as they stayed on his neck.
“Okay…” you whispered against his lips.
“Okay?” he whispered back as a smile formed on his lips.
“Yeah, I wanna stay with you” you answered, making him kiss your lips again, and then your cheeks and your entire face, making you giggle.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you to say that. You’re safe here with me” he put his head in the crook of your neck and you could still feel his big smile against your shoulder. “I love you so much”
And just like that you knew that when you went to get your car tomorrow, you didn’t have to go into the backseat to sleep anymore. But to go and pick Eunyeong up from school with Changbin as the three of you became a new family together.
taglist for part 2: @7hiyaawinx7 @pemdasislife @gabimatt @cchapssaltteok @mbioooo0000 @cardtak @minobuusumi @peachluffe @bangchans-girl @ttiraminsuu
thank you lovelies for liking this story so much! <3333
i lowkey may have spent a few hours stalking ur page last night and reading ur fics......
AND UR WRITING IS SO GOOD OHMGOSH.
i was wondering if i could request something angsty... (angst is my favorite genre of all time bro i read angst day and night i love it sm)
could you write a skz x 9th member who's usually pretty active and clingy around them?
and maybe smth has been stressing the group out (maybe like they keep messing up the choreography or vocals), and she tries to cheer them up with something like gift baskets (idk)
but like when she goes to hand them out (maybe when work is over for the day?), they snap because they think she's just trying to be playful and clingy again?
this isn't written out the best. im sorry 😓🙏🏻
IF U CANT WRITE THIS I UNDERSTAND BUT THANK YOU IN ADVANCE IF YOU DO!!! :D
I LOVE UR WRITING SM UGH ANYWAYS HAVE A GREAT DAY/NIGHT AND TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF!! 🫶🏻
OH MY GOSH THANK YOU SO MUCH :( !!! Y'all are all truly the sweetest ever :(
This was literally so much fun to write hehehe I hope you enjoy!!!
You’d felt the tension thick in the air all week, it taut like a string pulled too tight, ready to snap at the slightest tug.
Mistimed choreography during rehearsals. Missed cues in vocal practices. Quiet bickering in the hallways when they thought no one else was listening. You heard it. You saw it. You felt it.
The exhaustion seeped into everything: the way Chan spoke more in sighs than words, the way Minho's patience wore thinner with each passing day, the way even Felix's warm energy had dulled into silence. You could barely recognize your team through the fog.
Even the spaces that once felt familiar- the snack shelf, the dorm kitchen, the group chat- all carried a kind of weight. Replies were slower, more dry. Snappy. Conversations fizzled. Smiles flickered like dying light bulbs. Shared jokes fell flat. Hugs became side pats. Eye contact felt rare.
So you did what you always did when things got bad, when things got stressful: you loved them harder.
They and Stay had always joked that you were the clingiest one in the group- always hanging off someone’s shoulder, always poking someone’s cheek, always chirping some dumb nickname that made the others groan but secretly smile, always wanting to play with someone's hair. You were like a little sibling. The mood-maker. The baby. The constant source of affection.
You didn’t mind the teasing. In fact, you leaned into it. You wore that label proudly. You knew how much your energy meant. You made it your purpose to be a buffer between pressure and burnout. And you couldn't help it because you loved the boys so much. You just had to show it.
But this time, you wanted to show it in a quieter way. Something that said, I see you. I know it’s hard. You’re not alone.
So you made little gift bags. It was a habit you had picked up more recently. When groups would come back from tour they'd receive little gifts from you, tokens of your appreciation and encouragement.
So you thought maybe the boys would like it.
And so you made them.
One for each of them.
Jisung’s had a stress ball shaped like a cowboy emoji, his favorite late-night snack, some new guitar picks, and his favorite cologne.
Chan’s had a calming tea blend, a beanie, and a pocket sized notebook for the lyrics he always forgot to write down. Plus a fancy fountain pen.
Minho’s had tiger balm, a new toy for his cats, and a photo keychain of Soonie, Doongie, and Dori you printed at a machine by the train station. And with such a great price you got another of a silly selfie you two had together.
Felix’s had honey candy, a couple boxes of those star shaped pimple patches you had seen him use, and lavender and eucalyptus diffusing oils to help him sleep. Plus a plushie of a chicken wing you had happened to stumble by.
Changbin’s had his favorite protein bars, some resistance bands, a funny motivational pin you found that said "Cry, then lift" and little book of "IOU" coupons- you figured if he always performed acts of service to show his love than you could for him.
Hyunjin’s had packet of cooling eye patches, a new sketch book, his favorite face wash and a new kneaded eraser.
Jeongin’s had variety box of strawberry, banana, and chocolate milk, a plush keychain shaped like a bread bun, a new case for his headphones and fuzzy socks.
Seungmin’s had a leather bookmark, his favorite gum, a tiny bottle of his favorite fabric freshener for his bedsheets when you guys were on the road, and matching skincare headbands for you and him. (Although he never admitted it his favorite part of touring was your skin care and gossip time).
You knew what made them feel cared for. You knew them.
You spent the whole day sneaking around, tucking the bags behind your back when someone passed, making excuses to duck out during breaks, taping handwritten notes to each one:
"I know it’s been a lot lately. Just wanted to say I love you and I’m proud of you. You’re doing better than you think! Love, Y/N"
You spent an embarrassing amount of time tying ribbons. You even color-coordinated them to match the member’s personalities. You hoped they’d notice.
You didn’t expect much. You didn’t want a big thank-you or dramatic hugs. You just wanted to make them smile. Or ease something. Anything.
When practice finally ended, you waited for the right moment. The room was dimmer now, lights low, bodies slouched in sweaty heaps. Water bottles half-drunk. Shoes untied. Everyone was scattered- exhausted, emotionally frayed, shoulders slumped. But no one was yelling. No one was crying. You figured that was as good a time as any.
So you tiptoed in with your arms full of care and hope and-
“Y/N, not now.”
Chan's voice was sharp. Not as sharp as his movements though. He didn’t even look up. He was wiping sweat from his neck, a towel slung over one shoulder, a boiling frustration visible in every twitch of his body.
You froze.
You hadn’t even spoken yet. Just one step through the door and a few bags still clutched tightly in your hands.
“I- I just thought…”
Jisung groaned, flopping dramatically onto the couch. “God, can you not do the whole hyper-sunshine thing right now?! We’re exhausted.”
Your mouth opened, then closed.
You felt the unmistakable pressure of tears burn behind your eyes.
Felix wouldn’t meet your eyes. Hyunjin took off his cap, dragged a hand through his hair, muttered something like “why now” under his breath.
You shifted your weight from one foot to the other. “I wasn’t trying to be annoying.”
Minho glanced over from where he was tying his shoes. His voice wasn’t cruel, but it was flat. Tired. “It’s not about that. It’s just… timing, Y/N. Seriously. You need to learn to read the room sometimes. It gets a bit much.”
A pause hung between you all, filled with nothing but the sound of someone’s water bottle tipping over and rolling across the floor.
You felt like you were shrinking. Like the walls had taken a step closer.
They were tired. You knew that. You weren’t stupid. You weren’t trying to make things worse.
But now the ribbon in your hands felt childish. The paper bags looked crumpled and dumb and too colorful for a room that felt so gray.
“…Right,” you mumbled, lowering your arms. “Sorry. I’ll just- leave them here..." You're voice trailed off as Hyunjin was the first to exit the room in frustration followed by Changbin to go calm him down.
Changbin, the one who usually was the most in tune to your feelings bumping past you without as much as a second glance.
Jeongin was next, with the rest of the boys in town, Chan closing his laptop rather forcefully before snatching his bag and heading out the room.
"Make sure to hit the lights when you're done."
By the time you regained yourself, trying to blink away your humiliation and breathe through the heaviness in your chest you opted to dump the bags in the trash bin, sending something akin to a prayer as a silent apology to the janitor who had long since emptied the trash bin when he had realized that you guys would be there late into the evening.
You watched the bags until you slammed the lid shut. Immediately feeling a wave of guilt at what you had done, and leaning down to try and collect the bags, but noticed that Chan's fountain pen had somehow busted, leaving the other bags and gifts - as well as your hands - stained a purplish black.
The tears you had tried so hard to stop then poured out, and you felt so helpless in the moment.
All the frustration and tension from the past few weeks you had sponged up from the boys hit you full force like a bullet train, but manifested in the feeling of heartbreak.
You had tried to do something nice but instead you had made everything worse.
You had tried to show your love but it was minimized to you being annoying, clingy, "hyper-sunshine" as Jisung so kindly put it.
You felt like a burden.
One that was obviously too much for the guys to carry.
That night, you didn’t crawl into anyone’s bed to cuddle like usual. You went straight to yours. It seemed the boys hadn't even noticed you're arrival, with everyone tucked away into their own corners.
You shut your door gently. Curled up under your blanket. Didn’t even change out of your practice clothes. Just lay there, hoodie still clinging to your back, the scent of effort and sweat and rejection still thick on your skin.
You thought maybe - just maybe someone would notice. That someone might knock, if only to tell you you were being dramatic.
That someone somehow had went to the studio looking for you, only to open the trash and see the bags, would maybe bring one of them back and joke that the gifts weren't of their interest at all, only for you to tell them they had chosen the wrong one.
They'd laugh.
Everything would be happy again.
But the dorm was silent.
No knocking on Seungmin’s door for a movie. No climbing into Changbin’s lap with a dumb joke. No stealing Minho’s slippers or throwing an orange at Jisung because he refused to drink water.
The dorm felt quieter.
Not because everyone else was being quieter.
But because you were.
Your presence had always been loud. Bright. The soft, persistent hum in the background of their lives. Even when you weren’t speaking, you filled the space- buzzing energy, laughter, the click of your nails on your phone, the shuffle of your socks on the floor.
Now there was just…nothing.
The emptiness stretched longer than it should have. Minute by minute. Until the ache in your chest was a dull pulse. Until even crying felt like effort.
You waited.
And waited.
You stared at the door, hoping to see the light from the hallway spill into the dark. You imagined Felix’s head peeking in. Or Chan sitting by your bed, petting your head the way he did when you couldn’t sleep after a bad day. Or Hyunjin slipping a note under the door with a dumb doodle of you two as penguins.
But it never came.
There was no knock. No text. Not even a group chat ping.
Eventually, your eyes burned too much to stay open.
You rolled over. Pulled the blanket over your head.
Willed yourself to forget how small your love had suddenly started to feel.
Willed yourself to stop hoping.
But the thing about love- real love- is that it lingers. Even when it's quiet. Even when it's bruised.
warning: really angsty, feeling insecure/unworthy, no happy endings. (sorry)
wc: 8708
they call you clingy part 2
bang chan
You and Chan had been together for a while, and things were generally great between you two. You had your own lives, your own routines, but there was always a sense of closeness between you that you both cherished. Lately, though, you’d found yourself tagging along with him more often, especially when he had dinner plans with the members.
At first, he didn’t mind. In fact, he enjoyed having you around, and the other members seemed to appreciate it too. Some of their girlfriends were there as well, so it felt natural, like a group gathering. But after a while, you started coming along more frequently, not wanting to spend evenings apart. You thought it was a way to spend more time with him, but you could tell it was starting to weigh on Chan, though you weren’t sure why.
Chan said nothing at first, but you could tell he became quieter and more distant throughout these dinners. He looked at his phone more frequently, and his smile seemed forced when you spoke with him or the others. Still, you tried to ignore it, telling yourself it was just your imagination. You weren't doing anything wrong by wanting to be with him, right? You had every right to join him on nights when he was with the other members. But you couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.
One evening, as you all gathered for a casual dinner at a restaurant, the atmosphere was different. You were laughing, eating, and talking with some of the other girls when you realized Chan was particularly quiet. He was nibbling at his food and not really participating in the conversation. You leaned over to him, laying your hand on his arm, attempting to draw him into the moment.
"Chan, is everything okay?" You asked, your voice gentle and anxious.
He shuddered slightly at the contact and gave you a fake smile. "Yeah, everything's fine," he said, but the tiredness in his voice was clear. The others didn’t seem to notice, but you did. It felt like he was pushing away from you just a little. Your stomach twisted as you tried to ignore the unease creeping in. Then, the conversation shifted. As the dinner continued, someone brought up how often you came along with Chan to these meals. You didn’t think much of it at first, but you could feel his discomfort growing.
“Honestly, though,” Chan suddenly chimed in, his voice a little more sharp than usual, “it’s getting a bit much. She’s always tagging along. It’s like she can’t ever be away from me. It's kind of suffocating.”
The words hit you like a smack in the face. You froze, your heart sinking to the bottom of your stomach. The table fell silent for a moment, the tension in the air evident. You could feel everyone's gaze on you, and your cheeks reddened with shame. You tried to shrug it off, believing it was a joke, but the expression in Chan's eyes revealed his disinterest. He was not joking. Time seemed to slow down, and you could feel the sting of his words settling deep within you. Without thinking, you excused yourself from the table and went to the restroom, your chest tight and your eyes welling with tears. You locked yourself in a stall and tried to calm your pounding heart, but the words replayed in your mind over and over again. “Clingy,” “suffocating.” You felt small, insignificant, and utterly hurt.
Meanwhile, at the table, the other members exchanged glances, seemingly uneasy about what had just happened. After a minute, Hyunjin spoke up, his tone surprisingly soft. "Chan, that wasn't cool, man. Why would you say anything like that? She isn't clinging at all. She's just trying to spend time with you."
Felix nodded in line, his tone quiet yet forceful. "Yeah, we really like having her around. She makes things more fun, you know? I don't understand why you'd say something like that.”
Chan wasn't sure how to answer. He had meant it as a joke, something to relieve the stress he'd been experiencing lately, but now that he'd heard the other responses from the others, a rush of shame swept over him. He felt he'd crossed a boundary, but it wasn't until they spoke out that he recognized how serious the situation was. "I didn't mean it like that," he whispered, but his apologies seemed hollow even for him.
His thoughts was muddled by remorse, and for the first time in a long time, he felt completely embarrassed. "I think you should go talk to her," Minho said softly. "She is probably really hurt right now. You have to make it right."
Chan’s stomach churned. He didn’t want to think about how badly he’d hurt you. His usual confident self was gone, replaced by a knot of regret.
lee know
It was one of those days. The sort where everything you touched seemed to fall apart, and every corner you turned revealed another disaster ready to happen. The day began with your boss screaming at you for something you didn't even do, his anger pouring out on you as if it were your responsibility that the world was collapsing. You hardly had time to calm yourself before spilling your coffee all over your blouse at lunch. The entire day had been an upsurge of humiliating incidents, missed deadlines, and biting your tongue to resist snapping at everyone who gave you the wrong look.
You were physically and emotionally drained when you arrived home. You just wanted the day to end, to close your eyes and forget everything. However, when you walked through the door, you were welcomed by a familiar, comfortable smell.
Minho was in the kitchen, wearing an apron and humming softly to himself while making something. Your heart lifted a little because he was here, cooking for you. The simple gesture of kindness was a welcome breath of fresh air after a long day of drowning.
You stood by the door, hesitant whether to interrupt, but then he turned toward you with a gentle smile. "Hey, how was your day?"
You forced a smile, despite the weight of the day pressing on you. “It was... fine. I’m just glad to be home.”
He noticed the weariness in your eyes and walked over to you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders in a gentle embrace. It was the kind of comfort you needed, even if you didn’t know it until he offered it. “Relax. I’ve got dinner covered. Why don’t you just sit down and take it easy?”
You nodded, thankful for his concern, but something inside you refused to just sit back and do nothing. It felt awful to be passive while he was so busy. "Let me help," you volunteered, heading near the counter, attempting to gather yourself after a stressful day. Minho gently shook his head, a teasing gleam in his eyes. "There's no need. "Please relax, okay?" You couldn't help but feel a sense of dissatisfaction. He was always so selfless and compassionate, and you didn't want to be someone who just sat by. Instead of disputing, you nodded and gave in to his desire. He was right, after all; you could use a break. “Alright. But give me something small to do.”
Minho paused for a moment to contemplate, then assigned you a tiny task. "Okay, could you please tidy up a little while I finish the soup? Just wipe down the countertops." It seemed simple enough.
You took a rag and followed his instructions while he worked on the soup. The house was peaceful, almost serene, and you hadn't felt that type of peace all day. It was good to be here with him and feel like you weren't confronting the world alone.
But in the middle of cleaning, your eyes darted to the pot of soup on the stove. It smelled incredible like something he had poured his heart into. You felt a surge of gratitude, the kind that made you want to help him, to show him how much you appreciated everything he did for you.
Without thinking, you decided to move the pot, to give him a little more space so he could focus on finishing everything. You gently lifted the heavy pot, but as you tried to shift it, your grip faltered. The edge of the pot slipped from your hand, and in an instant, it tilted, the boiling liquid splashing violently all over the kitchen floor and onto your leg.
You screamed out in shock, the searing heat of the soup burning into your skin, but the pain on your leg was nothing compared to the way everything seemed to shatter around you. The kitchen became chaos. The pot had fallen, splattered everywhere, and the delicious smell was suddenly replaced with the pungent scent of spilled soup. You tried to gather yourself, but the kitchen was now a disaster, and so were you on the verge of tears, overwhelmed, hurt, and defeated.
Minho turned when he heard the accident. His expression shifted from worry to annoyance in an instant. You looked up, and his eyes were filled with anger. The following words he said struck you harder than the burn on your leg. "Why are you always so clingy? I spent hours making that! "If you had just stayed out of the way for once, this could have been avoided!" His voice was harsh and slashed through the air like a razor. You stared at him, frozen in shock.
Was this actually happening?
His words felt like a punch to your chest. They were not what you expected, not from him, not when you were already dealing with the weight of the world. Your mind scrambled to make sense of it. How had it come to this? How had you gone from being the person he always tried to comfort to someone he now seemed to resent?
He stayed there, hands clenched at his sides. "God, I can't believe this," he said quietly, shaking his head. You always do this. You always get in the way. "Why can't you just relax and let me do it?"
You couldn't react because your heart was hammering painfully in your chest. You had spilled more than simply the soup. It was not only the mess. It was the sting of being accused of something you never wanted to do, like being too much. You did not want to be a burden for him. You never intended to make things more difficult, yet everything you did seemed to make things worse.
Minho sighed, looking at the mess with frustration. “Just… go to the room or something,” he snapped, turning away from you.
You stood there, unsure of what to do, feeling smaller than you ever had before. You knew he was angry, but the way he dismissed you, the way he acted like you were just an inconvenience, was something you hadn’t expected from him. He wasn’t usually like this. But right now, it felt like you had done something unforgivable. It felt like everything you had ever tried to do for him had been wrong, every gesture of kindness or help misplaced.
Your legs gave way, and you sank to the floor, trying to steady yourself, but your hands trembled with the weight of his words. Hot tears welled up in your eyes, and you didn’t bother wiping them away. The physical pain in your leg from the burns was nothing compared to the ache in your chest. You had wanted to help, to make things better for him. But now, all you could do was try to tend to your own wounds both physical and emotional alone.
You pulled yourself up slowly, wiping away the tears you hadn’t realized were falling, trying to find the strength to move. Minho was still in the kitchen, silent now, cleaning up the mess you had made, but his anger still hung in the air, thick and suffocating.
You left him there, retreating to your bedroom, feeling more isolated than you had in a long time. The night was quiet, but the silence between you and Minho felt louder than ever. And in that silence, you couldn’t help but wonder how long you could keep trying to be the person he wanted you to be when everything you did seemed to push him further away.
changbin
The evening started out like any other. You and Changbin were going to go to the gym together after a long day. You were excited to spend more time with him, especially since you had been trying to join him at the gym more often recently. At first, it seemed like a fun bonding activity. You'd go to encourage him, attempt to keep up with some of the exercises, and simply enjoy being with him. Changbin had always been a bit of a lone wolf, preferring his own time to recuperate, but he'd been nice enough to let you tag along at first.
You didn’t realize that things had slowly started to change. What had initially felt like an innocent way to spend more time together had started to weigh on him. Maybe it was because you’d started following him around everywhere always just a few steps behind, trying to do what he was doing, lingering around him during his sets. Maybe it was because he didn’t have his usual space anymore. But whatever the reason, Changbin was beginning to feel the pressure, and he didn’t know how to tell you.
You had no idea how much your presence at the gym was bothering him. He wasn't trying to hurt you or make you feel bad about wanting to spend time with him, but tonight was different. He could feel his patience fading and his irritation growing the more you wanted to incorporate yourself into his routine. It was supposed to be his time to escape. He needed the gym to be his sanctuary, a place to unwind and clear his mind. But tonight, as you followed him from machine to machine, everything came to a head.
The air in the gym seemed heavier than usual. Changbin could feel his patience fraying as you followed him for what seemed like the umpteenth time. You weren't doing anything wrong, yet he couldn't shake the overwhelming sense that you were constantly present. His gaze shifted to the clock on the wall; he'd been here for nearly an hour. And it wasn't that you were clingy in an obnoxious way; it was simply that you were always with him, which was enough to frustrate him.
He couldn't concentrate, couldn't clear his mind as he used to. You were always there, following his every move, asking questions about his setups, and attempting to get in the way of his routine. His thoughts were clouded, his mind no longer able to concentrate on the iron and his own movements. He couldn’t unwind. He couldn’t breathe.
When you followed him to the weights area once again, his frustration bubbled over.
“Y/N, can you just stop?” he snapped, his voice harsh and sharp, completely different from the usual warmth you were used to. His words cut through the air like a slap. “Can you just let me have this one thing? The gym isn’t supposed to be some place where you follow me around all the time. I need it to be my own. I need my space. You’re always here, and it’s... it’s too much.”
You froze, a cold shiver of confusion running through your body. Your eyes flickered from his irritated face to the ground, unsure of what to say. You had always been so excited to share things with him, and this was the last place you thought something like this would happen.
“B-Bin... I didn’t—" you started, your voice faltering, but he cut you off, his frustration spilling over.
“You’re always clinging to me, Y/N. And at first, I thought it was cute. But now? It’s just too much. The gym is supposed to be my alone time, somewhere I can relax, somewhere I can focus. But you’re here, and I can’t even do that anymore,” he said, each word feeling like a weight crashing down on you.
Your chest tightened and you found yourself unable to breathe for a little while. It felt as if the world had stopped moving around you, and all you could hear was the flow of blood in your ears. You weren't expecting to hear those words from him. Changbin had always been supportive and loving, even if he was a little protective of his space. What about now? Now it felt like he was pushing you away. And the way he avoided your gaze while he spoke, as if he couldn't stand to witness the pain he was causing, you could feel your heart breaking piece by piece.
You bit your lip, trying to hold back the tears threatening to spill, but it didn’t help. The lump in your throat was too big, and the pain was too overwhelming. You weren’t clingy. You just wanted to be close to him. You didn’t realize that your presence, something you thought was innocent, had been smothering him. But hearing it from him so bluntly… it felt like a punch to the gut.
You said nothing at first. Your body was stiff, your eyes filled with unshed tears. You wanted to say something, but the words would not come out. Instead, you simply turned slowly and began to walk away. "I'll go," you said softly, your voice barely audible. Your steps were wobbly as you approached the exit. Changbin turned around, his heart sinking into his chest. It hit him, followed by the look in your eyes. Your lips quivered. He realized what he had just said. The frustration and fury had been misplaced. He didn't mean to hurt you. He wasn't trying to make you feel unwanted. But it was too late now. The damage was done.
“Y/N—wait!” he called after you, but it was no use. You didn’t even turn around. You just kept walking, your back stiff, your steps hurried.
hyunjin
(a/n: you and hyunjin aren’t a couple here, you’re childhood best friends)
The after-party had been buzzing with energy all night, full of celebration and the kind of chaotic, joyful atmosphere that followed every successful concert. It was supposed to be a moment of relief, a chance to let go of the weight of the stage and just relax with friends. You, however, couldn’t seem to shake off the knot of tension that had been growing inside you for weeks.
It hadn’t been an abrupt change, not really. Hyunjin, your best friend, had slowly started to become distant. At first, it was subtle, a shift in the way he looked at you, the way he barely seemed to notice when you were around. But now, it had become glaringly obvious, especially in moments like this, when you found yourself desperately trying to keep the connection you two had built over the years.
You’d always been there for him, supporting him through everything the highs and the lows. But lately, whenever you tried to lean on him, he pulled away. The distance between you had begun to feel insurmountable, and tonight, surrounded by the group at the after-party, it felt like the final straw.
You felt an odd, uncomfortable pull as soon as you walked inside the party. The sight of Hyunjin laughing with the rest of the group should have made you happy, but instead it made your chest tighten with anxiety. He looked... unusual. His eyes, the way they avoided yours, made it clear that something had changed between you two. You despised the sense of being on the outside, like you didn't belong anymore.
You had tried to give him his space during the last few weeks, respecting the growing distance between you. But tonight, you were determined to be present. To pretend as if everything was still fine.
After all, you were his best friend, right?
You moved over to where he was sitting, talking with Seungmin and Jeongin. When they saw you approaching, Jeongin's face lit up with that warm, welcome smile that always put you at at ease. He gave you a warm nod and motioned for you to join them, which you immediately did, thinking that the familiarity of the situation could help the uneasiness that had begun to settle over you. But once you sat down, Hyunjin's tone changed. His eyes flicked across to you for a quick, unreadable look before returning to the others. You tried not to take it personally, but it hurt. Jeongin was chatting animatedly about something, but you couldn't pay attention. All you could think about was how Hyunjin had practically turned his back on you.
After a few moments, you couldn’t hold it in anymore. You leaned closer to Hyunjin, trying to keep your tone light, as if everything were normal. “Hey, Hyunjin... you good? You’ve seemed off lately.”
He looked at you, his expression suddenly sharp. “I’m fine,” he replied quickly, and there was a coldness to his voice that cut through you like ice.
You didn’t know what to say. You had always been able to talk through things before, but now it seemed like he didn’t even want to acknowledge you. You tried again, your voice trembling just slightly, “I’m just checking in... I’ve noticed you’ve been a little distant.
Hyunjin rolled his eyes, as if he were irritated with you asking. “You’re always around,” he said, his voice laced with annoyance. “I don’t need you following me everywhere. It’s annoying.”
The words hit you like a slap. You froze, the weight of his comment sinking deep into your chest. You had no idea where this was coming from. You had always been there for him, not because you needed to be, but because you cared about him. You wanted to be there. But now, suddenly, it felt like you were an inconvenience.
The room felt suffocating, the noise of the party growing distant as you tried to process what he had just said. You had always been careful not to smother him, always tried to give him space. But now he was telling you that your presence, your very existence, was too much for him.
It was too much.
The lump in your throat grew, but you weren’t going to let him see you falter. You tried to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over, but you couldn’t stop the rush of emotions that came flooding to the surface. You had tried so hard to be understanding, to be patient, but this was too much to handle.
Before you could say anything more, you snapped. “You know what, Hyunjin? I’m not following you around,” your voice trembling with a mix of hurt and frustration. “I’m only here because Felix invited me. As his date.”
The words hung in the air, sharper than you intended, but you didn’t care. You could feel the sting of betrayal, the way Hyunjin had made you feel small, and the anger bubbled up inside you. The room grew quiet for a moment, everyone’s attention now focused on the exchange.
You didn’t look at Hyunjin. You couldn’t. Instead, you turned on your heel, your pulse pounding in your ears, and walked straight to Felix, who was standing nearby. He gave you a surprised glance, but he didn’t ask questions. He simply wrapped an arm around you as you sat next to him, offering you a comforting presence in the midst of your emotional storm.
You didn't speak for a time, your thoughts racing from the argument, but Felix didn't press you to explain. He just let you sit there in peace, his arm resting comfortably on your shoulder. You leaned into him, attempting to center yourself and escape the overpowering pain that threatened to consume you whole. Felix did not deserve to bear the burden of your wounded heart, but in that time, his comfort was the only thing that made sense.
Hyunjin's gaze stayed fixed on you as the party went on. But you refused to look his direction. He'd already made it apparent that your presence no longer mattered to him. He had driven you away with his hurtful words, and as much as it pained you to admit it, you knew deep down that it was too late to fix things.
The rest of the night was a blur. You couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened, about how he had made you feel so small, so insignificant. The person who had once been your best friend, who had always been there for you, was now the one who had cast you aside. And the worst part was that you didn’t even know why.
As the party wound down and everyone began to leave, you stayed close to Felix, not looking back, not wanting to face Hyunjin. You didn’t know what had changed between you two, or why he had suddenly decided that your friendship wasn’t worth his time. All you knew was that the person who had once been your closest confidant, the one who knew all your secrets and fears, had just torn your heart apart.
And you didn’t know how to fix it.
HAN
The evening began like any other, or so it was supposed to be. But Jisung felt as if the world was pushing down on him with every step he made into the apartment. The intensity of the day still clung to him, like a physical weight of frustration, disappointment, and tiredness. He had spent hours in the meeting with the company staff, only to hear criticism for the smallest mistakes and missteps. It wasn't the first time, but it always hurt. This time, however, it seemed different; he couldn't shake the nagging sense of inadequacy.
The door clicked behind him, and the familiar aroma of home didn't bring much comfort. Instead, it was almost smothering. His limbs ached, his mind raced, and all he needed was peace, time to unwind.
But you were there.
You always were.
As soon as he walked through the door, your eyes searched his face, and he could see the concern etched over your features. He could tell you'd sensed something was wrong. He attempted to disguise it when he saw you earlier that day, brushing off your "are you okay?" with a quick "yeah, I'm fine," but now, as you stood there with that sweet look in your eyes, he couldn't help but see it. You could look right through him, like glass.
"Jisung," you said quietly, your voice carrying the gentle tone you always used when you knew he was struggling, "are you sure you're okay? You don’t look okay."
It wasn’t the first time you’d asked. You'd been asking since the moment he came home, like you always did when you saw him worn down, like you always did when he looked like he was holding a little too much in. But no matter how well you meant it, no matter how much you truly cared about him, he just didn’t want to talk about it. Not today. Not tonight.
"I’m fine," he muttered, his tone dismissive, but you could hear the edge in his voice.
You hesitated, eyes scanning him again, sensing the distance between his words and the tension in his body.
"Jisung… I know you’re not fine," you said softly, a frown pulling at your lips. You reached toward him, wanting to bridge the gap that was widening between you, but he stepped back before you could touch him.
"I’m fine," he repeated, louder this time, irritation lacing his voice. "Just stop asking."
Your heart twisted, but you tried to swallow the hurt, not wanting to push him further. But you couldn’t stop yourself from trying again, desperate to get him to open up. "Please, I can tell something’s wrong. If you need to talk, I’m here."
He froze at that, hands clenched at his sides, jaw clenched. His frustration, the irritation that had been building inside him all day, finally cracked open.
"I said I'm fine!" He snapped, his voice sharp, his eyes burning with anger, not at you, but at the world that had worn him down. "Why are you always so clingy? It's annoying. I do not need you hovering over me like this. I don't need you constantly keeping tabs on me!" The words were biting and nasty. You trembled, a flood of hurt smashing over you, but you tried to stay calm.
You couldn't help but feel the sting of dismissal and the weight of his harshness. "I'm just trying to help you," you said softly, your voice quivering slightly. "I just want to make sure that you're okay. Why don't you let me help?"
He glanced at you, the spark of guilt in his eyes swiftly drowned out by the a flood of frustration within him. He opened his mouth and nothing came out. He wanted to apologize. He knew he hurt you. But the words did not come, and he had no idea how to make it right. He didn't know how to ask for what he wanted when everything inside him felt like it was about to come apart.
You did not wait for him to say anything. The anger, bewilderment, and hurt welled up in your chest, and before you could stop yourself, you turned on your heel and marched out, your footsteps loud and strong as you made your way to the bedroom.
The door slammed behind you, and for a moment, there was nothing but silence. You sank onto the bed, feeling the weight of the frustration both his and yours press down on your chest like a suffocating blanket.
You didn’t want to cry. You didn’t want to feel this way. You had only wanted to help him. To be there for him when he was struggling. But all he had done was push you away.
You heard no footsteps, no soft knock on the door. Normally, when something like this happened, he would come after you. He would apologize, his voice soft and regretful, and you’d make up. He’d say something about how it wasn’t you, how he was just having a hard time. But this time, the silence stretched on. The door stayed closed.
It wasn’t long before you realized he wasn’t coming.
The silence felt so loud, so suffocating, and it only made everything hurt more. He wasn’t here to apologize. He wasn’t here to soothe you like he always did.
And maybe this time it wasn't all about him. Maybe it was more than simply his tiredness and irritation. Maybe it was about something deeper, something more than just a bad day at work. Your heart broke at the thought that he might have pushed you away because he didn't know how to accept you. Maybe he'd been hiding his pain for so long because he was frightened to show you the parts of himself he thought were too shattered. Maybe he was just too stressed to recognize that you weren't a burden, but rather someone who wanted to help him shoulder the weight.
But right now, none of that mattered. What mattered was that he had called you clingy, had pushed you away when all you wanted was to hold him close.
You curled up in bed, hugging your knees to your chest, and tried not to cry.
You didn’t hear him come in, but you felt the weight of the bed shift beside you. Jisung’s presence was always so familiar, so warm, but tonight it felt distant. He didn’t touch you. He didn’t say anything. He just sat there, in the darkness, as the minutes dragged on.
And you, as much as it hurt, didn’t know if you could ask him again if he was okay. Not yet. Not until he was ready to admit that he wasn’t.
felix
It had been one of those days where everything seemed strange, as if a thin film of tension had been applied to the edges of everything you did. The kind of day where even the most basic tasks felt significant, and no matter how hard you tried to make things feel normal, you couldn't escape the growing distance. Maybe you chalked it up to stress. Maybe it was just a phase. Everyone goes through a hard stretch, right? But when you woke in the middle of the night, your hand instinctively going for the warm spot beside you, only to find it empty, that emotion became too strong to ignore. Felix had always been the one to stay close, even in sleep. He was always so attentive to your needs, so present. But now, the space between you was cold, and the bed felt too large without him there.
You sat up, the quiet of the room pressing in on you, your heartbeat loud in your ears as you swung your legs off the side of the bed. The soft glow of the TV in the living room flickered across the hallway, casting long shadows.
As you made your way down the hall, you saw him there, slumped on the couch, his eyes fixed on the screen but unseeing, staring at it like it held some answer that he couldn’t quite grasp. You could see the strain in his posture, the weight of something pressing on him, but he didn't acknowledge you as you approached.
You stopped a few feet away, unsure what to say. The silence between you two felt like a wall, immovable and unbreakable. This wasn't the Felix you knew, the one who would always offer a comforting smile or an encouraging word when you needed it. This version of him was remote and frigid, as if he built a fortress and did not plan to let anyone in.
"Felix," you whispered slowly, trying not to shock him, your voice trembling with emotion. "What's wrong?"
He didn’t respond at first, as if he hadn’t heard you, or maybe he just didn’t want to answer. The minutes dragged on, each second feeling like it added more distance between you two. Finally, when he spoke, his voice was low and strained, and it hit you in a way you hadn’t expected.
“Nothing,” he muttered, though it was clear that wasn’t true. His words didn’t match the heaviness in the air, the emptiness that had settled between you two. “Just… leave me alone, okay?”
The words hit you like a punch to the gut. Leave him alone? You didn’t understand. Since when had he ever asked you for space, especially like this? Felix had always been the one to reach out, to comfort you, to be the one you could lean on when things got tough. But now, he was shutting you out, pushing you away.
You stood there, paralyzed, staring at the back of his head as the emptiness in the room seemed to swallow you whole. His posture was stiff, almost defensive, like he was trying to make himself smaller, trying to hide from you, and it hurt more than you ever expected.
"You don't have to be so clingy all the time," he said, his voice more clipped and distant than you'd ever heard. It was as if the words were spoken by someone else, a stranger in the body of the person you loved.
Clingy? The word resonated in your thoughts, sending you reeling. You'd never considered yourself clingy. Have you really gotten so annoying? Was your affection and presence too much for him? You couldn't understand it. The connection, the intimacy that had once been so natural between you two now seemed so far away, as if it were a dream you couldn't fathom.
“I just…” Your voice faltered, and you took a shaky breath, willing yourself not to cry, not to show him just how much his words had wounded you. “I just wanted to know what’s wrong. You’re… you’re not like this, Felix. Not with me.”
You took a tentative step forward, hoping that your proximity would reach him, that your presence would somehow break through the wall he had built around himself. But he didn’t move, didn’t acknowledge you, and that hurt more than anything else. It was the silence, the refusal to face you, that felt like a betrayal.
"Please talk to me," you whispered, your heart breaking as you watched him remain motionless on the couch, his eyes still fixed on the television, as though he could pretend you weren’t even there.
But Felix didn’t respond. Instead, he kept his focus on the screen, the distant expression on his face more painful than any argument. You could feel the distance between you growing, spreading like a chasm, and it felt like you were standing at the edge, about to fall into the void.
It wasn't always this way, you thought, recalling times when simply being in the same room was enough to make you feel connected. It seemed as if you blinked and everything had changed. He wasn't the same Felix who would stay up with you when you were feeling sad, holding you and whispering comfort in the darkness. The man who had once looked at you with warmth and love now seemed so distant, like a stranger you didn't recognize.
Your heart ached; the anguish of losing him, feeling him slide through your fingers, was almost excruciating. You could not tolerate the deafening stillness between you any longer.
With a last, desperate glance at him, you whispered, “I’m here, Felix. I’m always here for you. If you need space, if you need time, I’ll give it to you. But I just… I just need to know you’re okay.”
But he didn't respond and didn't move. His silence hurt worse than words could, and you realized, with a sickening feeling, that you had no idea where you stood in his life. The Felix you knew, the Felix who would always reach out to you, seemed like a memory you could no longer grasp onto. You turned away, your feet feeling heavy as you walked back to the bedroom, the distance between you two becoming more than just physical.
The weight of his disinterest crushed against your chest, smothering you, and you wondered whether things would ever be the same again. Will he come to you eventually? Would he tell you about what was bothering him, or had you already lost him in ways you couldn’t fix?
You climbed back into bed, the sheets cold where he should have been beside you. And as the night stretched on in silence, you tried not to feel the unbearable emptiness that had settled in your heart, wondering if Felix would ever look at you the same way again.
seungmin
The front door creaked open, and you could hear Seungmin's footsteps in the hallway, dragging slightly, indicating how exhausted he must have been after a long day of practice and vocal lessons. You'd been waiting for him, possibly too eagerly, though you tried not to admit it. You had planned to talk, the conversation you'd been putting off for days because the silence had gotten unbearable. The subtle shift in his demeanor, the way he became more distant and engaged in his own world, weighed heavy on your chest.
You knew how busy he was, how much work he put into his training and craft. But it didn't take away the sting of feeling like an afterthought, as if you were no longer a part of his life. You had tried to keep it together, to give him his space when he needed it, but the continual feeling of being neglected was gradually pulling you apart. You needed him to see you. You needed him to care the way he used to, to put forth the same effort that you did.
So, as the door clicked shut and you heard him move toward the kitchen, you braced yourself and entered the hallway to greet him.
"Seungmin," you called softly, but there was no immediate response. He didn’t even look up, didn’t even glance in your direction.
You took a breath, trying to keep the anxiety from choking you. "Can we talk?" Your voice was steady, though you could feel the tremor beneath it. "It feels like we’re not the same anymore."
His footsteps faltered for half a second, and you thought maybe you had caught his attention. But instead of stopping, he just continued walking past you, brushing past your shoulder so closely you could feel the coldness radiating off him. He didn’t even spare you a glance.
"Seungmin," you said again, but this time there was a little crack in your voice, a vulnerability you didn't want to express. You needed him to hear and see you, even if just for a moment. But he did not stop. Finally, he gave a low, exasperated groan that hung between you like a wall. He turned halfway, his eyes flickering to you with an enigmatic expression. "Why do you always make things so dramatic?" His comments were harsh, cutting through the silence and making you flinch. "You're really clingy. Just leave me alone for once."
The words were like a punch to the gut. The force of them knocked the wind out of you, and your heart seemed to stop for just a moment, trapped somewhere in the space between your chest and throat. You hadn’t expected this. You hadn’t expected him to say something so cold, so dismissive. All you had wanted was to talk, to bridge the distance that had formed between you, but now it felt like you were drowning in it.
Your body went still. You opened your mouth to respond, to explain how unfair that was, but no words came. How could you even argue against that? How could you explain that all you wanted was his attention, his care? You weren’t clingy you were hurt.
"Seungmin, I’m not—" The words tumbled out weakly, but they didn’t seem to matter.
"You are," he interrupted, his tone now flat, distant. "I don’t have the energy for this right now."
He turned away from you, heading toward the kitchen without another glance, leaving you standing in the hallway, shattered.
You stood there for a long moment, frozen in the aftermath of his words. Everything you had been holding back, all the frustration, the confusion, the loneliness that had built up over the last few weeks, was suddenly crashing down on you like a wave. Was that it? Was that all you were to him now? Someone who was too much to deal with?
You had never felt so small. So invisible.
You had tried to keep it together. You had told yourself it wasn’t a big deal, that he was just stressed, that he didn’t mean it. But now, standing there in the hallway with nothing but the echo of his dismissal ringing in your ears, you realized that maybe this was the problem the distance. The lack of communication. The feeling that no matter how hard you tried, you could never reach him, never get him to understand what you needed, what you were hurting from.
You wanted to chase after him, to try again, to make him see how much his words had stung. But something inside of you had broken. There was a voice inside you now that said, "It’s too late. You’ve tried. He doesn’t want to listen." And that was more painful than anything else knowing that, deep down, he didn’t even want to meet you halfway anymore.
You had hoped, and even prayed, that things would return to normal, that the love you once shared would reemerge. But standing there, you couldn't help but feel as if you were fighting a losing war. You didn't ask for much: simply his time, presence, and devotion. You never expected this level of coldness in return.
The silence in the home became intolerable, and each second felt like a weight on your chest. You wanted to yell at him and urge him to care, but all you could do was stand there, feeling the barriers between you two grow higher and higher.
You turned away slowly, your legs heavy, your head spinning with everything you had just heard. You didn’t know what hurt more: his words or the fact that he had walked past you like you were nothing.
You needed him to care, but right now, it felt like the person you needed was already gone.
I.N
The evening had been everything you hoped it would be: thrilling, warm, and full of laughing. You'd been dating Jeongin for about a year, and he was finally introducing you to his members. It seemed like an important milestone in your relationship. You'd heard so much about them, and now you'd get to meet the people he cared about the most. The anticipation had you beaming all evening as you helped Jeongin in cooking dinner, your heart filled with delight at the prospect of cooking together and spending time with the people who were such an important part of his life.
The dinner had gone smoothly. The atmosphere was cozy, filled with the sound of happy chatter and the clinking of silverware. The members were friendly, teasing each other and joking around. You could see why Jeongin was so close with them they were like brothers, comfortable and at ease with each other. You had felt so welcomed by them, their laughter contagious, and the food you had helped prepare had been met with praises.
As the night wore on, everyone settled into the living room, enjoying sweet treats and wine. It was the perfect end to a perfect evening, or so you had thought.
But as the evening wore on, you noticed something that made your stomach churn. Jeongin was distant. He had been quieter than normal, with his focus wandering. Normally, he would be the first to steal a kiss from you or press his hand on yours if you were close. But tonight? Tonight, it felt as if he was purposefully keeping distance between the two of you.
You brushed it off at first, believing he was just weary or stressed after introducing you to everyone. After all, meeting his members was a major step, and maybe he was just concerned with making sure things went smoothly.
But it wasn’t just that.
When you leaned in to rest your head on his shoulder, like you had done numerous times before without thinking twice, he pulled away almost immediately. The action was swift and sharp, as if you had done something wrong. You blinked in surprise, a frown tugging on your lips, but before you could ask what was wrong, he mumbled under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear, "Stop being so clingy." The words struck you like a physical punch. You froze, the warmth of your feelings for him vanished, replaced by a frigid knot of perplexity and embarrassment. Did he mean it? You could feel the weight of the members' gazes as you looked around the room, though no one said anything. But you could tell they had heard, the awkward silence that followed making it painfully clear.
You felt heat rising up your cheeks, humiliated. Had you overstepped? You had never been clingy before and had never thought of yourself in that way. But his comments, which were cutting and contemptuous, hurt more than you wanted to acknowledge. The casual tenderness you had always shared seemed like a distant memory today, a bitter reminder of how things had changed without warning.
Jeongin had always been so warm and tactile with you. Kisses on your cheek while cooking, his arm slung over your shoulder while watching TV, all the little things that made you feel safe and cherished. But tonight? Tonight he was a different person.
You tried to ignore it, thinking maybe it was a bad moment. Perhaps he was just tired, or maybe something had happened at work or with the members that was weighing on him. But as the night continued, the distance between you only seemed to grow. When you tried to brush your hand against his, he pulled it away, a small frown on his face. When you tried to rest your head on his shoulder again, he shifted uncomfortably, avoiding your touch with a small sigh.
It was as if you were a stranger to him, someone he couldn’t stand to be close to.
Your heart dropped. It was a feeling you never expected to have with him, the type of coldness that made you question everything, including the entire foundation of your relationship. You had no idea what was going on in his mind, but the way he was treating you now felt so different from the Jeongin you had fell for.
You excused yourself to the restroom, needing a moment to collect your thoughts and prevent yourself from entirely disintegrating. The quiet hum of the talk in the living room followed you as you walked back, the members' voices merging into the background as your thoughts occupied you.
Was he angry with you? Had you done something wrong? Maybe he was embarrassed by you, by your clinginess. Maybe he didn’t want to be seen as the guy who couldn’t control his girlfriend. Maybe you were being too needy, too dependent, and he just couldn’t handle it anymore. Maybe he had changed, and you were the one who had failed to notice.
You stared at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, taking a few deep breaths, trying to calm the tightness in your chest. When you returned to the living room, you tried to smile, to pretend like everything was fine. But the look on Jeongin’s face when you came back made your stomach twist even further. He didn’t smile at you like he usually did. He didn’t reach for you. He just sat there, a distance between you that felt like an ocean.
You sat down again, feeling smaller than you had with him before. You did not want to confront him in front of the other members. Not when things were going so well. You didn't want to ruin the evening or make things uncomfortable for everyone. But the awkwardness was already there. It seemed like a thick cloud suffocating you, and you knew he felt the same way.
Eventually, the evening came to an end. The group began saying their goodbyes, laughing and conversing, although their voices were scarcely audible. You were too consumed by the subtle tension between you and Jeongin, who hadn't spoken anything to you since your previous conversation. You gently grabbed your stuff, not quite meeting his eyes.
When you reached the door, Jeongin still hadn’t moved. He was standing by the couch, talking to one of the members, completely ignoring you. It wasn’t how you thought it would go. This wasn’t how you imagined the night would end.
It wasn’t until you were halfway out the door that he finally spoke, his voice distant, flat. "You okay?" he asked, as if the tension between you hadn’t been there all evening.
You stood frozen, looking back at him, your chest tight. You wanted to say so many things. You wanted to ask why he was acting this way, to demand an explanation, to tell him how hurt you were by the way he had dismissed you. But you didn’t. Instead, you forced a small smile, though it didn’t reach your eyes.
"Yeah," you replied softly, your voice quiet, strained. "I’m fine."
And then you stepped out, leaving the apartment behind, the discomfort and uncertainty lingering in the air like a thick cloud. You had no idea what had happened or what had caused this abrupt change, but you couldn't shake the feeling that something in your relationship had just broken. Something that might not be fixable.
And as the door clicked shut behind you, you weren't sure if Jeongin noticed.
