You flipped the little red ticket between your fingers as you stood in line, listening to the excited chatter of the people around you. You looked up at the large building looming in front of you, the words Haunted House painted in bold blood-red letters across the front. The concrete structure was modest in size, with two levels and a basement. Some of the windows were broken, while others were boarded up, all adding to the eerie atmosphere.
The front door stood slightly ajar, painted black, and the building was covered in graffiti with ominous words like hell and death. The air was filled with the distant screams and eerie sounds of music echoing from within. You could feel the buzz of excitement from the other visitors, each one eager for the thrill inside.
This wasn't your first time at the haunted house, but it was Baekhyun's. His first time ever, in fact. You smiled to yourself, excitement bubbling up inside. You noticed him standing beside you, chewing on his lower lip nervously, glancing up at the building as he fidgeted with his ticket.
"Aww, is someone getting scared?" you teased, nudging him with your elbow. "We can always go to the funhouse instead. It's way less scary."
"No, I'm not scared," Baekhyun replied, his hands on his hips, trying to look confident.
"Mmhmm, sure you're not." You smirked, watching him stomp his foot and stick his tongue out at you in mock defiance.
"I'm not! I'll prove it to you," he said, glancing back at the haunted house, though you could see the apprehension in his eyes. His brave face was cute, but you knew he was nervous.
Your heart warmed at the sight of him, wanting to comfort him, but you stayed still, amused by his stubbornness. The fall air had already started to chill, and the leaves were scattered on the ground, a few still fluttering from the trees. You zipped up your jacket against the cold breeze, shivering a little.
Just then, Baekhyun pulled you close, his arms wrapping tightly around you. The warmth of his embrace made you smile, and you buried your face in his chest, inhaling his sweet scent.
"Why didn't you tell me you were cold?" he asked, his voice soft with concern.
"It wasn't that bad until the wind picked up. I just hope we get inside before it starts raining," you replied, smiling up at him.
"I think we'll make it. And it should be done by the time we come out." He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your cold lips, his hand rubbing your back to keep you warm.
The line started moving, and before you knew it, it was your turn to go inside. You walked hand in hand, your eyes catching Baekhyun's as he put on his brave face again. You gave his hand a gentle squeeze, offering a silent promise that you were with him. He looked down at you, nodding, as you both entered the building, the old wooden stairs creaking beneath your feet as you made your way to the front door.
Inside, it was pitch dark, save for the small red flashlights you were given. The music blasted, muffling the distant screams and adding to the atmosphere. Cobwebs and torn sheets hung from the walls, and dust settled on old furniture, splattered with fake blood. You admired the effort they put into the decorations, the detail making it even creepier.
As you made your way through the corridors and rooms, Baekhyun's grip on your hand tightened with every step. You could feel the tension in his fingers, but you kept your hand in his, even as it started to hurt. Every now and then, you'd hear him gasp or feel him jump beside you, and though it was cute, you couldn't help but feel a little guilty for dragging him into this. Still, you squeezed his hand, encouraging him as you moved on.
At one point, a figure jumped out from behind a wall, making both of you gasp. Baekhyun immediately wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his face into your neck, trembling. Your heart ached for him, knowing he was truly scared, despite his efforts to hide it.
"Baekhyun, it's over," you whispered softly, rubbing his back as you exited the last room.
Once outside, you moved to the side to let the others pass by. Baekhyun pulled away slowly, still holding onto you tightly. His face was pale, and he let out a relieved sigh.
"So much for keeping my cool," he muttered, a sheepish grin forming on his face.
"Hey, it's okay. I was scared too. I shouldn't have made you come here. We could have gone somewhere else and had fun." You gazed up at him, a little apologetic, but Baekhyun shook his head.
"I wanted to. Even though I was scared, I knew you were having fun. And honestly, I was just happy to be with you." He leaned down and kissed you softly, his lips warm and comforting.
You melted into the kiss, your hands finding their way up to his chest, pulling away only when you both needed to breathe. You smiled up at him. "Let's go home."
You turned to leave, but stopped short when you saw it was pouring rain outside. People were running to their cars, trying to avoid getting soaked.
"Oh great. And we don't have hoods or umbrellas," you sighed.
Baekhyun smiled at you. "Well, I guess there's only one thing to do." Without another word, he grabbed your hand and pulled you out into the rain.
You didn't even have time to protest before he was leading you toward the car, both of you running to escape the downpour. The rain hit you both hard, but you finally made it to the car, diving in and slamming the doors shut behind you. Baekhyun burst into laughter, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath.
"That wasn't too bad," he chuckled.
"No, not at all," you replied, grinning back at him.
After a few seconds, you both burst into another fit of laughter. You looked at him, admiring how handsome he looked, even soaked to the bone. Water dripped from his hair, glistening under the streetlamp's light, making him look almost ethereal.
Baekhyun reached up, brushing a few wet strands of hair from your face, tucking them behind your ear with a soft caress that sent tingles down your spine. He leaned over and kissed you again, his lips warm against yours.
You stayed like that for what felt like forever, neither of you wanting to break the moment. Eventually, Baekhyun pulled away, the cold air between you making your lips ache for his touch again.
"I love you," he said, his smile lighting up his face as he started the car and turned on the heat to keep you both from freezing.
"I love you too, Baekhyun," you smiled, placing your hand on his as he pulled out of the parking lot, driving the two of you home.
Mingi let out a relieved sigh as he placed the pencil down beside the small stack of flashcards. He smiled, a sense of pride washing over him. The plan he had been meticulously working on for weeks was finally complete.
For five long years, Mingi had kept his feelings for you hidden—hesitant and unsure of how or when to confess. But now, thanks to Seonghwa’s advice, he had a clear plan in mind: turn his confession into a game.
The game would start with Seonghwa handing you the stack of cards Mingi had spent so much time preparing. Each card, tied together with a string in the top-left corner for convenience, contained a unique task or activity you had to complete in order to discover the identity of the person who had been secretly admiring you for so long.
You and Mingi had been close friends since high school, and now, as second-year college students, your feelings for him had evolved into something much deeper. Every time Mingi flashed that familiar gummy grin, your heart would flutter, and your stomach would fill with butterflies. His every glance made your heart race, and you found yourself wanting something more than the friendship you had built over the years. But you assumed Mingi didn’t feel the same.
He treated you like one of the guys. He would flirt with other girls, date some of them, but those relationships never lasted. A month, maybe two at most, before they fizzled out and he was off looking for someone new.
Mingi was a bit of a player, but not in a harmful way. He was charming and friendly, but his relationships were often short-lived. You’d always been there for him, helping him out with dating advice whenever he asked. You played the role of the supportive friend, even though it pained you more than you let on. No one, not even your closest friends, knew the depth of your feelings for him.
What you didn’t realize, though, was that Mingi felt the same way. He had developed feelings for you too, but just like you, he didn’t know how to express them. Mingi was shy at heart, and his usual bravery when it came to other things seemed to vanish when it came to you. Instead of taking a chance, he kept you as a friend, thinking that was the safest route.
Mingi had also started to realize that you might see him as a player. After all, he didn’t make much of an effort to hide his flirting with other women. He would even ask you for advice on how to handle his relationships—but it wasn’t as innocent as it seemed. In fact, he was hoping to make you jealous. But when you never showed the reaction he expected, he assumed you didn’t feel that way about him.
Both of you, oblivious to each other’s feelings, had continued living in this unspoken tension, neither of you willing to take the risk.
But now, Mingi had finally had enough. He had to confess, even if it meant risking rejection. All he wanted was the chance to be honest with you and, no matter what, remain friends. And deep down, you wanted the same outcome. There had been so many moments when you almost confessed, when you almost told him how you felt—but you always hesitated. Every time you worked up the courage to tell him, you’d see him with another girl, and the pain would hit all over again. You wanted to keep him in your life, even if only as a friend, but you weren’t sure how much longer you could bear the constant ache in your heart.
Now, with the game in place, Mingi was finally taking the step he had been too afraid to make all these years.
Mingi stood up from the table, a satisfied smile on his face, and walked over to Seonghwa. He handed him the stack of flashcards, making sure the string holding them together was secure. “Hyung, you remember the plan, right?”
Seonghwa sighed dramatically, a smile tugging at his lips. He took the cards from Mingi’s hand with a mock groan. “Yes, Mingi, I’ve heard it all a million times. I could probably recite it in my sleep.”
Mingi chuckled at his friend’s teasing, nodding in agreement. He raised his hand in a casual goodbye before Seonghwa spun around and quickly left the room, heading toward the location where the game would begin.
Meanwhile, you collapsed onto your bed, the familiar weight of sadness settling over you once again. Another Valentine’s Day, spent in solitude. Another year of watching Netflix and eating the expensive box of chocolates you’d bought yourself just the day before. You couldn’t help but imagine Mingi, probably out on a date with some new girl. That thought made you sigh deeply.
The two of you had always spent Valentine’s Day together, the single ones in the group, watching cheesy rom-coms and laughing about the absurdity of the holiday. But now that Mingi had started dating, you’d decided it was better to spend the day alone in the comfort of your home, surrounded by your favorite plushies scattered across the bed.
At first, Mingi had protested, not wanting to break the tradition of celebrating the holiday with you. You two had spent almost every holiday together since high school, after all. But after reassuring him multiple times that you were fine and it didn’t bother you, he’d eventually accepted it, though you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted.
As you lay there, lost in your thoughts, your phone suddenly vibrated on the nightstand. You grabbed it, already knowing who it was before even looking at the screen. It was Seonghwa. You opened his message: “Meet me in the park.”
You groaned, already feeling the weight of whatever plan he had in store for you. You quickly replied, letting him know you’d be there in ten minutes. Grabbing your white slip-on shoes, you threw your hair up into a messy bun, slipped into your coat, and left the house. You hadn’t given much thought to your outfit today—just an oversized black band tee and your favorite sweatpants, the ones Mingi had given you years ago when the two of you got caught in the rain. The memory made you smile a little despite everything.
As you made your way to the park, you wondered what Seonghwa was up to this time.
A smile tugged at your lips as you thought back to that rainy day. You and Mingi had been caught off guard by a sudden downpour, sprinting to his place as the sky poured down on you both, soaking you to the bone. Laughter rang through the sound of raindrops hitting the ground as you teased each other about how ridiculous you looked. Once you were safely inside, you both exchanged playful jabs about your drenched appearances. Mingi quickly fetched towels and a change of clothes for you, his easygoing kindness a comfort as always. The next day, when you tried to return the clothes he had lent you, he insisted you keep them. They didn’t fit him anymore, he said, and ever since, that pair of sweatpants and his old band tee became your go-to lazy day outfit.
Shaking off the memory, you zipped your jacket a little higher, trying to shield yourself from the chilly air. The park was honestly the last place you wanted to be right now. Everywhere you looked, couples were wrapped in cozy blankets, sharing heart-shaped plates and red-and-pink snacks. Some were feeding each other chocolate-dipped strawberries, their eyes full of affection. The sight stirred up a familiar ache in your chest, and you couldn’t help but avert your gaze, wishing for the whole scene to fade away.
It didn’t take long to spot Seonghwa in a quieter corner of the park, away from the lovebirds. You hurried toward him, grateful for the break from the heart-shaped chaos around you. When he saw you, he looked up and gave you a knowing look.
“So, what’s this all about? Your message sounded kind of urgent.”
“You’ll see.” Seonghwa’s only reply was a cryptic grin, and he held out a small stack of flashcards, his fingers brushing against the edges.
Confused, you reached for the first card. “Have Seonghwa give you the bouquet of roses,” it read.
You glanced up just as Seonghwa pulled his hand from behind his back, revealing a small bouquet of eleven red roses. You took the flowers from him, bringing them to your nose for a quick sniff, and flipped to the next card.
“Find the 12th rose.”
That was all it said. You studied the card in your hand, noting how the handwriting matched the one on the previous card. But there was something about it — the familiar loop of the letters, the distinct curve of the “M” — that made something stir deep inside you. Where had you seen that handwriting before?
“Is this some kind of joke?” you asked, genuinely puzzled. You weren’t the biggest fan of roses, or of Valentine’s Day for that matter.
Seonghwa shrugged nonchalantly, not saying a word but motioning for you to continue. You groaned, flipping over the card again, and read aloud, “Mission 1: Go to the park bench.”
And just like that, your curiosity piqued, though you had no idea where this game was leading.
This was shaping up to be a long night.
You walked toward the nearest park bench, half-expecting to find one of the other guys sitting there, but as you approached, it became clear you were alone. The bench sat beneath a flickering streetlamp, casting a lonely glow over the surrounding area. You were about to sit down when something caught your eye—just a hint of red paper peeking out from between the slats of the bench. The same shade of crimson as the envelope from before.
Curiosity won out, and you reached under the bench to pull the paper free. Settling yourself on the cold wood, you carefully opened the envelope, the feeling of the paper familiar against your fingers. As you unfolded it, you saw the words:
“October 31, 2018 - We sat on this bench, intoxicated, and talked for hours. You were wearing a cat costume, but an angel would’ve fit you better. I caught you staring at me and immediately wondered if you feel the same way for me like I do towards you.”
The memory didn’t fully come back to you. You recalled the party, sure, but the rest was a blur—too much to drink, too much chaos. You couldn’t remember exactly what had happened, but the words felt almost too familiar. Brushing the confusion aside, you turned the page to the next card, which read:
“Mission 2: Go to the public fire pit.”
You sighed, muttering under your breath, “Good thing I wore my sneakers.” The park was familiar enough, and the fire pit was one of your favorite spots. You followed the cobblestone path, the dim light of the streetlamps barely enough to guide your way. When you reached the fire pit, you didn’t immediately see a red envelope, making your confusion grow. You circled the pit, scanning every inch until you finally spotted the envelope, taped discreetly to the side.
You quickly reached for it, already expecting the usual paper cut. Sure enough, the sealed flap almost caught you, but you managed to tear it open without injury. Inside was another folded piece of paper, longer than the last. You skimmed through it:
“November 22, 2018 - Thanksgiving Day. You invited me and a few others over to your home. I sat and talked to your family—sneaking glances while I watched you cook. Your bottom lip juts out when you concentrate—did you know that? Your uncle asked me if we were dating, and I wanted to tell him, ‘I wish,’ but I refrained from doing so. Later that night, you, me, and the rest of our friends sat outside by a fire pit similar to this one. Amidst conversation, you suddenly rose to your feet and walked to a vacant area. Soft cries began echoing, but before I could rise to follow you, San stood up and went after you. I know eavesdropping is wrong—it’s something you scold me for quite a bit—but I couldn’t help it. I heard you tell him something about it being hard for you to keep being friends with someone.”
Your heart tightened as the memory hit you like a wave.
It had been a cold Thanksgiving night, the fire crackling and casting shadows around your friends. Everyone was laughing, talking, roasting marshmallows, and teasing each other. Then Mingi’s voice had caught your ear—talking about a woman he had been seeing. And there it was again, that familiar ache, sharper this time. You hadn’t been able to stay there, not with him speaking about another girl so casually.
You stood up abruptly, retreating to a quieter spot. Sitting in the grass, you hugged your knees to your chest, burying your face in your arms as you let the tears fall, the pain so overwhelming. You were so sure no one had noticed. You couldn’t let any of them see you like this, especially not Mingi.
But then you heard footsteps approaching. You wiped your face quickly, trying to regain some semblance of composure before looking up. There stood San, his face a mask of concern. He didn’t need to ask what was wrong; it was written all over you. Your red eyes, tear-streaked cheeks, and the way your shoulders trembled gave it all away.
San sat down beside you without a word, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “What’s going on?” he asked softly, his voice laced with understanding. Unable to hold it in any longer, you let the tears flow again, resting your head on his shoulder as you poured out your heart.
San was the only person who knew. He was the only one who knew just how much Mingi had hurt you—how much you wished things could be different. You begged him to keep your secret, to never tell Mingi, and he had kept his word. Not once had San ever spilled a word of your feelings, but you knew he understood. He’d always look at you with that sad, knowing look when Mingi was around, shaking his head in quiet frustration. But you appreciated him for it. You appreciated him for being there when you couldn’t be strong enough on your own.
Shaking the memory from your mind, you flipped to the next card, reading aloud the scribbled text: “Mission 3: Find the swing set.” You made your way toward the nearby playground, spotting the swing set in the distance. As you approached, the cool touch of the metal chains sent a rush of forgotten memories flooding back.
Sitting on the swing, you heard a soft rustling sound, like paper crumpling. Leaning forward, you reached under the swing and felt the familiar texture of the red envelope. Pulling it out, you opened it and unfolded the paper, reading the letter that immediately brought back another vivid memory.
“November 27, 2018 - I asked you to meet me here. You showed up, and I still remember exactly what you were wearing—a white tank top under your favorite denim jacket, black leggings, and the same white slip-ons you had on the first time I realized I was in love with you.
We sat on the swings for hours. At some point, a shooting star passed over us. You told me to hurry and make a wish. I glanced at you as you sat there, hands gripping the chains of the swing, your eyes squeezed shut, and your lips pursed together. My heart skipped a beat. I wished for your happiness.”
Your mind raced. How could someone have gone to so much trouble to plan this? To handwrite all these letters and cards? The thought alone made your head spin, and you tried to push it aside as you moved to the next card: “Mission 4: Find the tallest tree in the park. Hint: It’s towards the middle.”
The middle? Of the park? There were so many places that could be considered the middle. You began retracing your steps, heading back toward the heart of the park, scanning the area until you spotted what seemed to be the tallest tree. A feeling of warmth and familiarity washed over you, though you couldn’t quite place why.
Looking around, you began searching for the red envelope, but it wasn’t where you expected it to be. You ran your hands through the grass, eyes darting in every direction. A sinking feeling crept over you. Was it lost to the wind? Did someone else find it?
Frustration was bubbling inside you when, just as you were about to give up, you noticed a red envelope hanging from a string above your head, taped to the tree. Relief flooded through you, but then you saw how high it was. You jumped, stretching your fingers as far as they could reach, but it was just out of grasp.
Sighing, you looked around for something to help you. There, just outside the park, was a small rock. You dashed toward it, picked it up, and placed it under the tree. Climbing onto the rock, you gave one more jump, this time your fingers brushing the envelope. With a final stretch, you managed to grab it, pulling it down with a victorious smile.
You quickly tore it open and read the new letter aloud:
“December 25, 2018 - We met here on Christmas night and exchanged gifts. I was a little late, and you got upset, thinking I had stood you up for my girlfriend at the time. When I tried to explain, you pouted, holding your hand up, palm out, ignoring me. I joked about leaving, but you immediately frowned and clung to my arm, assuring me you were just teasing. My heart skipped a beat—I had never seen you look so cute before, and that’s saying something.
“You gave me my gift first, then folded your hands behind your back, swaying from side to side as you looked up at me with those puppy-dog eyes, asking where your present was. I pulled the wrapped box from my jacket, and a grin spread across your face—just for a moment. As I held the gift above your head, out of your reach, you immediately pouted and jabbed your fingers into my sides. You yelled at me for a solid minute, and I couldn’t help but laugh. Eventually, I lowered the box and handed it to you, your sweet smile returning almost instantly.
You told me I was as tall as this tree.”
It all started to click.
The significance of each carefully chosen spot, the memories tied to every location, the exact details—now it was making sense. You thought you knew who your secret admirer was, but even so, something didn’t add up. There was no way it could be who you were thinking, right? Mingi had always treated you like one of the boys—except for when he was flirting with other women. And he was always coming to you for dating advice, talking about his girlfriends. If he really felt this way about you, surely he would’ve never done that.
You didn’t want to dwell on it any longer. You shoved the paper into your jacket pocket, alongside the other red slips, and flipped to the next card. The task written on it read: “Mission 5: Return to the swing set and look under the same seat from Mission 3.”
You had to go back there? Seriously?
Your legs were starting to ache, the long walk beginning to take its toll. You hadn’t walked this much since your family’s hiking trips, which were nearly a decade ago, before your grandmother passed away.
Arriving back at the swing set, you crouched down, searching beneath the seat as you had done earlier. Another red envelope was taped to the bottom of the same swing. Your brow furrowed. Had that one been there the whole time? Had you grabbed the wrong one earlier? No... you were sure you only saw one. That meant someone must be nearby, watching you.
Straightening up, you scanned the area, but there was no sign of anyone. It wasn’t fear you felt, but the overwhelming curiosity that had been building in you for so long—it was almost unbearable. Little did you know, San, dressed in all black, was hidden just behind a nearby bush. Mingi had tasked him with replacing the envelope while keeping an eye on you, making sure you stayed safe.
You tore open the new envelope and read aloud:
“January 1, 2019 - New year, same feelings. After a night of partying, you and I came back to this swing set again. We swung for a while and talked. You told me about all your resolutions and then asked if I had any, and what they were. The way your eyes bore into mine made my breath catch in my throat.
How could I tell you that my resolution was to gather the courage to confess my feelings for you?
But I didn’t want to lie to you, so I told you that I hoped to become braver. You laughed and told me I was already the bravest person you knew, so I should pick a 'real' resolution. Before I could say anything, though, fireworks began lighting up the sky. You checked your phone’s digital clock and threw your hands into the air, shouting, ‘Happy New Year!’
That was when I debated whether or not I should finally make my move.”
My heart began to race as my palms grew clammy. You didn’t know this, but I tried to reach over and take your hand. As you gazed up at the fireworks lighting up the night sky, I felt my heartbeat echoing in time with the bursts of color. My fingertips were almost touching yours, but... I stopped. I chickened out. I didn’t have the courage. Instead, I wished you a happy new year, shrugged off my jacket, and draped it around your shoulders. We stood there together, ringing in the new year beneath the exploding sky.
You were the first thought I had for 2019."
At this point, your mind was racing faster than ever. Your heart pounded in your chest as you began to connect all the dots, a deeper realization setting in. It had to be him. It had to be Mingi.
But no, that couldn’t be right—he was just a friend. Besides, he had a girlfriend. There was no way he could be in love with you. It had to be someone else. You tried to shake the thoughts out of your head as you flipped to the final card, nearing the end of your journey.
Butterflies fluttered in your stomach, excitement and nerves building as you neared the moment when you would finally discover who your secret admirer was.
“Final Mission: Go to the pond.”
Your legs felt heavy as you forced yourself to move forward. With each step, exhaustion started to take over, and you arrived at the pond a little later than planned. You immediately began your search, eyes scanning the area for the last red envelope, but you found nothing.
Fatigue, cold, and confusion weighed heavily on you. Was this going to be like the tree incident? You hoped not—the pond wasn’t particularly large, but it was still a decent size to circle around.
In the center of the water stood a granite statue of a man and woman, tightly holding each other in an embrace. The statue sat on a concrete pedestal beneath the surface of the pond. You never knew who had the idea to install it, but it was the only thing about the pond that felt somewhat special. The pond had become a popular spot for couples, and recently, you’d made it a point to avoid it when visiting the park.
But if you were being honest, the pond was beautiful.
The water was perfectly still, reflecting the moon’s light in a mirror-like surface. Lily pads floated gently on the water, their white flowers sitting delicately on top. The soft scent of lilies mixed with the stronger fragrance of the roses still cradled in your arms, the two aromas blending into something intoxicating yet calming.
The croaks of frogs and the chirps of crickets combined in the background, creating the perfect soundtrack of nature. You let yourself relax, feeling a peaceful wave wash over you. But with it came exhaustion, quickly draining the last of your energy.
You sighed and lowered yourself to the grassy edge of the pond. For a moment, you forgot why you were even here. Despite having walked the full length of the pond, the red envelope was nowhere to be found. You had checked every bench, every trash can, every light pole, and every tree in sight—but there was nothing.
At this point, you had no idea where the envelope could be.
Frustration bubbled up inside you, and you let out a groan, dropping your head into your hands. Was this all just some cruel prank? No, it couldn’t be. You flipped through the cards again, reading each mission carefully, checking the backs this time. That’s when you noticed it—on the very last card, in small print:
“This is the last envelope you will find. If you're confused, just trust me.”
Great. That didn’t help at all.
Groaning once more, you tossed the cards onto the bench beside you, exhaustion and frustration overtaking you. Tears stung at the back of your eyes, threatening to fall. But just as you were about to give up entirely, you heard a familiar voice behind you.
You spun around, startled, and froze. Standing before you was none other than Mingi.
Mingi? Song Mingi?
He was dressed in a cozy white knitted sweater with red and blue detailing at the shoulders, a black jacket, and black jeans. His tall frame moved toward you, his presence casting a soft shadow in the moonlight. He took a step closer, the light catching the red rose tucked behind his ear and the pen and paper he held in his hands.
He cleared his throat and began to read aloud:
“February 14, 2019 - You stood in front of the pond wearing the sweatpants I lent you. Hopefully, you enjoyed the little adventure I coordinated for you.”
At the mention of your outfit, he paused and looked up at you, flashing your favorite smile before returning to write and speak.
“All of the envelopes were found in places significant to us. I tried to give you the best clues I could muster without directly revealing myself. Did I do a good job? Regardless, this is the final spot of this little game I created just for you.”
He took a deep breath, stepping a bit closer until the distance between you seemed almost nonexistent. His gaze locked with yours, intense and unflinching. The silence stretched on, and for a moment, it felt as though time had stopped. Then, clearing his throat, he glanced down at his paper and continued, his voice softer now:
“This pond we’re standing before is the same pond where I realized my feelings for you. We found this spot during our freshman year of high school, one day after classes. I watched you lean down and scoop a lily pad into your hands, your smile big and bright.”
He paused, eyes flickering up to meet yours, and you couldn’t help but feel your heart stir. You were mesmerized by his words.
“You told me a story about a beetle who decided to climb one of the lily pads to see what lay beyond the muddy home he lived in. After climbing for what seemed like forever, the beetle grew tired from the effort, but the warmth of the sun felt so good that he allowed himself to fall asleep once he reached the surface. When he woke, he discovered that he had transformed into a dragonfly. The story was a metaphor about taking chances in life. As I listened to you, my heart swelled.”
Mingi’s voice faltered for a moment, his nervousness now becoming apparent. He noticed you hadn’t moved or made a sound, and for a brief second, he feared you had stopped breathing altogether. His own breath caught in his throat as he chewed on his lip, hoping his nerves wouldn’t overwhelm him.
Finally, he took a deep breath and, gathering his courage, finished the final part of his letter:
“It was here, at this pond five years ago, that I realized I’m in love with you.”
He slowly folded the paper into a red envelope, sealing it with care. Then, with a shaky but determined breath, he stepped closer to you. Before you could fully process, he was standing just inches away, his eyes still locked with yours.
With a soft smile, he reached behind his ear and pulled out the red rose, gently extending both the flower and the envelope toward you.
“Congratulations,” he whispered, his voice steady now, “you’ve found the twelfth rose and the final letter.”
Inhaling a shaky breath, you took the rose and envelope from Mingi’s hands, your own trembling from the whirlwind of emotions crashing over you. Had you heard him correctly? Was this some dream, or was it really happening? Opening the envelope, you reread every word he had just spoken aloud, each one aligning perfectly with the letter in your hands. You were stunned. Your mind was spinning.
You had to say something. But what could you say? You were speechless.
“Mingi, I... I don’t know what to say,” you whispered, your voice trembling.
Heat rose to your cheeks, and you could feel tears threatening to spill. You couldn’t cry now, not after everything that had happened. But as the realization finally settled in—Mingi really did have feelings for you—it was like a weight lifting from your chest. Song Mingi, the boy you had known for years, was your secret admirer.
All those moments, all those little clues—it had all been him. And now, here he was, standing before you, confessing his feelings. You didn’t fully understand why he’d acted the way he had, causing you so much pain along the way, especially if he’d felt this way for so long. But none of that mattered now. He loved you. And you loved him.
Tears began to fall, but you didn’t try to stop them. With a shaky breath, you looked up at him, locking eyes. “I don’t know how else to say this, but Mingi... thank you. Thank you for telling me your feelings after all these years.”
Mingi’s eyes flickered with uncertainty, his voice low and tinged with fear. “So, does that mean... you don’t feel the same for me?”
You could hear the pain in his voice, the fear of rejection. Smiling softly, you shook your head, reaching out to take his hand. “What that means is... I feel the same. I, too, have feelings for you.”
Mingi’s eyes lit up like the stars themselves. His signature gummy smile spread across his face, eyes squinting into crescent moons as joy overtook him. Without a second thought, he pulled you into his arms, wrapping them carefully around your waist. You mirrored his movements, your arms wrapping around his frame.
His body was warm against yours, his embrace comforting as the cold night air brushed around you both. You could feel his heartbeat match yours, a rhythm of connection that seemed to settle the chaos in your chest.
Mingi cupped the sides of your face gently, his touch tender as he lowered his head, bringing his lips closer to yours. You rose onto your toes, your breath catching as your lips nearly brushed. The moment felt like it would last forever, a perfect union of everything you had longed for. But just as your lips were about to meet—
A sudden scream interrupted the moment, pulling you both out of your bubble.
You both jerked your heads toward the sound, still in each other's arms, trying to comprehend what was happening.
Seonghwa bolted past the two of you, shouting in a panic, his voice carrying a mix of desperation and confusion. “Who is Sohee? Yah, Park Seonghwa—do you hear me? Who is she? How dare you call me by her name! And on Valentine’s Day! Are you kidding me?”
A petite brunette, her cheeks flushed in anger, was hot on his heels. Her name wasn’t Sohee, though—it was Kang Solmi. The two of them had been together for a year now, and Seonghwa had never once shown any interest in another woman. But there was one thing that always tripped him up—he had a habit of calling Solmi by San’s older sister’s name due to their names sounding similar.
“It’s not what you think! It’s just San’s sister! You can even ask him!” Seonghwa yelled, his voice carrying as he darted past you, running in circles around the pond.
As Seonghwa looped back, he didn’t realize just how close he had gotten to the two of you.
"No way, man, this is too funny!" San called from behind, his laughter clear even from a distance. "I’ll step in when she catches you."
Then, in the blink of an eye, Seonghwa collided with Mingi, knocking him off balance. Since you were still connected to him, you lost your footing too. Instinctively, Mingi pulled you closer, trying to steady both of you. But the momentum was too much. The two of you tumbled into the shallow pond, the cold water splashing around you as you fell.
A few moments later, you both surfaced, gasping for air, completely drenched. Your hearts were still racing from the fall, but now the shock of the situation was setting in. The laughter of your friends echoed around the pond as you both wiped the water from your faces, trying to come to terms with what had just happened.
Inhaling a shaky breath, you took the rose and envelope from Mingi’s hands, your fingers trembling from the overwhelming flood of emotions washing over you. Had you really heard him correctly? Was this a dream, or was it all happening right in front of you? You opened the envelope, your heart racing as you reread the words he had just spoken aloud, each one matching the letter in your hands. It felt surreal. Your mind was spinning.
You needed to say something. But what could you say? You were completely speechless.
“Mingi, I... I don’t know what to say,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion.
The heat in your cheeks burned, and you could feel tears welling up. You couldn’t cry—not after everything that had happened. But as the realization sank in—that Mingi truly had feelings for you—it was like a weight was lifted off your chest. Song Mingi, the boy you had known for so long, was your secret admirer.
All those moments, the clues that never quite made sense—they had all been him. And now, here he was, standing in front of you, confessing his love. You didn’t fully understand why he’d caused you so much pain before if he had been feeling this way all along. But none of that mattered now. What mattered was that he loved you—and you loved him.
Tears began to spill down your cheeks, but you didn’t try to stop them. With a shaky breath, you locked eyes with him. “I don’t know how else to say this, but Mingi... thank you. Thank you for finally telling me your feelings after all these years.”
Mingi’s face faltered with uncertainty, and his voice was barely above a whisper. “So, does that mean... you don’t feel the same for me?”
You could hear the fear in his voice, the anxiety that perhaps he would be rejected. Smiling softly, you shook your head, gently reaching for his hand. “What that means is... I feel the same way. I, too, have feelings for you.”
Mingi’s eyes lit up, as if a light had been switched on inside him. His signature gummy smile spread across his face, eyes squinting into crescent moons as joy overtook him. Without hesitation, he pulled you into his arms, wrapping them carefully around your waist. You mirrored his movements, your arms wrapping around him, holding him close.
His body was warm against yours, his embrace grounding you as the cool night air swirled around you both. The thrum of his heartbeat matched yours, an unspoken connection that calmed the chaos in your chest.
Mingi cupped your face gently, his touch soft as he lowered his head. His lips were so close to yours, and you rose onto your toes, heart racing. The moment felt like it would last forever, the perfect culmination of everything you had both longed for. But just as your lips were about to meet—
A sudden scream shattered the stillness.
Both of you jerked your heads toward the sound, still wrapped in each other’s arms, struggling to understand what was going on.
“Mingi! Are you okay?!” you exclaimed, rushing to sit up, looking him over for any sign of injury. Laughing, Mingi sat up as well, still holding onto you gently. “I’m okay. Are you?”
You nodded quickly, checking yourself over. After a brief moment, the two of you stood up, Mingi stepping out of the water first, then reaching down to help you out. As you both made your way back to the shore, you spotted the roses scattered across the grass, still intact.
Frantically, you reached into your jacket pocket, pulling out the letters. You were shocked to find them mostly dry, with only a small dampness around the edges. You sighed in relief, glancing back up the hill at the scene unfolding.
Seonghwa was being pulled back by the arm, a frantic look in his eyes as he glanced at the boys, who immediately jumped to help him. His girlfriend, though, was glaring at him like she wanted to set him on fire. You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head at the drama unfolding before your eyes.
Mingi and you both did your best to wipe off the pond plants and dirt that clung to your clothes. Despite being soaked, Mingi pulled you back into his arms, wrapping you tightly against him. You mirrored his actions, arms wrapping around his torso, holding him close to you, ignoring the cold and the wetness of your clothes. Your warmth seemed to comfort him, and he pulled you closer, his grip tightening around you.
Your eyes locked, and you both smiled softly, your hearts beating in sync. He placed his hands back on your cheeks, the heat of his palms radiating through your skin. Gently, he leaned down, his lips brushing against yours. You closed your eyes, melting into the kiss, feeling the world fade away around you.
After a long moment, you both pulled away, gazing at each other in sheer bliss. Mingi quickly wrapped you into another tight embrace, ignoring the cheers and clapping from the distance. You knew that soon, you'd be bombarded with questions, but for now, you only cared about him—and he about you.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Mingi whispered softly into your ear, his voice full of warmth and love. You smiled, tightening your arms around him. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”
Mingi laughed softly, pulling away just enough to see your reaction. “Now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”
You laughed and rolled your eyes, leaning up to press your lips against his in answer. His hand caressed your jaw as he returned the kiss, pulling away after a moment. Suddenly, his gaze shifted toward the pond.
You followed his eyes and watched in awe as a dragonfly hovered over one of the lily pads, its delicate wings catching the moonlight. A smile tugged at your lips as you remembered the story from one of the letters. You reached up to poke his cheek with your finger, his head turning to look at you.
“Now it’s your turn to tell me a story about a dragonfly,” you teased, a playful glint in your eyes.
Mingi chuckled softly, pulling you closer. “Allow me to tell you the story of the two that fell in love,” he whispered, his voice full of warmth.
Soft white lights flicker gently under a deep blue sky, their rhythm mirroring the stars above. Delicate white curtains sway in the breeze, carrying the sweet fragrance of soft blue flowers through the air. My beautiful wife, Rayna, stands before me, her tender smile lighting up the moment. Our arms are entwined, our bodies moving slowly in sync with the mellow beat of the music. The world around us fades away, leaving only the two of us in this perfect bubble of time. She rests her head on my shoulder, our closeness as intimate as a single heartbeat. In that serene embrace, I hear her whisper my name, Arin, followed by words as sweet as honey. I silently wish for this moment to stretch into eternity, for this day to never end.
Small feet pitter-pattered through the house, the sound of giggles filling the air as Rayna chased after our child, a towel stretched wide in her hands. She was determined to wrangle her after bath time, though their laughter suggested our daughter had other plans. From the couch, I watched it all unfold, our youngest sleeping peacefully in my arms, blissfully unaware of the commotion.
Moments later, Rayna reappeared, triumphant, our little one bundled up snugly in the towel like a tiny burrito. Her laughter joined the chorus as she carried our child into the room, her hair slipping loose from its messy bun, stray strands brushing softly against her cheeks.
I couldn't help but smile as I looked at her, my heart swelling with love and contentment. She leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to our son's head before lifting her gaze to meet mine. Her smile, warm and radiant, was like the final touch to this perfect moment. In that instant, with my entire world gathered together in one room, I knew life couldn't get any better.
Taking her hand in mine and gently placing it on my arm, I looked down at our daughter. Her tear-filled eyes shimmered as she smiled up at me, her small nod full of both joy and emotion. Together, we walked slowly down the aisle, each step bringing us closer to the man who waited for her with love and anticipation.
When we reached him, I placed her hand in his outstretched one, my fingers lingering for a moment as I cupped their joined hands in my own—hands now worn and weathered by time. Meeting his gaze, I saw the sincerity in his tear-filled eyes and offered him a reassuring smile. With my blessing given, I gently stepped back, my heart full but aching with the bittersweet weight of the moment.
Our children, their spouses, and our grandchild gathered around us in the quiet comfort of our bedroom. Soft sniffling filled the air, mingling with whispered words of love and reassurance. Despite the tears, my wife and I offered gentle smiles, gummy and warm, to soothe their hearts.
Around the room, nestled on walls, shelves, and dressers, were countless photographs and keepsakes, each one a chapter of our story. The glass frames stood like portals to moments long passed, preserving a lifetime of love and memories, as though the room itself were a museum of us.
I held Rayna's fragile, timeworn hand in mine, its warmth still familiar even after all these years. Leaning close, I pressed a soft kiss to her cheek, whispering words of love just as I had on our wedding night. She squeezed my hand gently—a silent signal that the time had come.
With my head resting against hers, we closed our eyes together, breathing our last as one. My heart was full, even in its final beat, for I had lived the greatest gift of all—a life spent with her. I had been the luckiest man in the world.
I opened my eyes to the soft glow of morning light seeping through the small crack in the curtains. The familiar off-white ceiling greeted me as I lay nestled in the comfort of my bed. Rolling onto my side, my gaze fell on the photo resting on the bedside table—a snapshot of me hugging a small-framed woman, her smile as radiant as I remembered. She had been my closest friend, my greatest love, and the one who changed my life forever.
I thought back to the day the picture was taken. We were just about to finish college, caught up in conversations about our future and the dreams we hoped to chase. She wanted to become a writer, to weave worlds with her words. I dreamed of opening a little bookshop with a cozy coffee corner, where her novels would sit proudly on display, the first copies sold from my shelves.
I'd always joke about my backup plan—how if things didn't work out, I'd become an accountant or settle into some "boring" job. She'd roll her eyes at that, laughing in the way only she could, but her belief in me never wavered. She supported my dreams as fiercely as I supported hers.
And in that quiet moment, staring at the photo that captured so much of who we were, I couldn't help but smile—grateful for the dreams we shared, the love we built, and the life we imagined together.
I knew she was the woman I'd spend the rest of my life with. I had every detail planned—the perfect way to propose, the beginning of our forever.
Now, beside the picture of us on my bedside table, slightly tucked under the corner of the frame, lay her obituary. That small, fragile piece of paper marked the last moment I'd shared with her, the final chapter of a story that should have had so many more pages.
A faint smile tugged at my lips as my mind replayed the memories we created together—each one precious, a lifeline I clung to. Slowly, I closed my eyes, letting the weight of those moments settle over me. A single tear slipped down my cheek, soaking the pillow beneath me.
Sleep still lingered, its pull gentle and familiar, and in the quiet of the room, my voice broke softly—barely more than a whisper.
"I'll see you soon."
And with that, I let myself drift back into the darkness.
So I got inspired by @prettyseonghwa and @yeosangkang when we were talking about Yeosang library!AU. I know Ellie wrote one and I honestly can’t compete with her and am not trying to her’s is so good but I chose to write my own rendition of it with how I interpret the picture and how I was inspired by it. I originally didn’t plan to but I really did want to give it a try. So no more rambling, here it is:
The day outside was gray and dreary, the sky blanketed by thick clouds, casting a soft gloom over everything. Rain fell steadily, pattering against the windows, as people hurried by, clutching umbrellas or simply trying to shield themselves with coats and bags. The air was damp and cold, a perfect excuse to retreat into the quiet sanctuary of the library.
Yeosang had worked at the small library in town for just over a year and a half, and it had become more of a second home to him than a workplace. He had always been drawn to libraries, the smell of books, the feeling of the worn spines under his fingers. The soft rustle of pages turning, the scent of tea and coffee from the corner café—these simple comforts filled him with a sense of peace.
There was something magical about the quiet, something that made time slow down, and it was this atmosphere that made the library feel like a haven, a place where Yeosang could lose himself in books and the stories of others.
Even though Yeosang had always found solace in this world of literature, there was a small, unspoken void. A part of him yearned for something more, something that, he believed, would eventually walk through the library doors. And today, it seemed that time had finally arrived.
She entered, as she always did, with a soft chime from the door’s bell. The usual polite smile she gave him didn’t reach her eyes this time, though. Her shoulders slumped slightly, and dark circles edged her tired eyes. She was dressed in a large college hoodie, dark skinny jeans, and worn black Converse, a far cry from her usual bright, carefree presence.
Yeosang watched as she made her way to her usual spot by the window, a small table beside an oversized berry-colored chair. It was her favorite corner of the library, the one with a view of the small garden, where Crimson Pirate Daylilies bloomed in their vibrant reds and yellows. She settled down, placing her bag beside her chair, then pulled out her laptop with a quiet sigh. She looked up at the clock, and for the first time, Yeosang noticed she seemed far more focused than usual. Her attention was fixed on a stack of textbooks, the kind that signified deadlines and stress.
Yeosang, from behind the desk, continued his duties. He would occasionally glance up at her, watching how she seemed lost in her work. Despite the occasional frustrated sigh or groan when things didn’t go her way, there was a quiet determination in her posture. The library was now empty, save for the two of them, and the sound of soft rain tapping against the windows filled the silence between them.
At some point, she leaned back, her gaze drifting out the window. The raindrops racing down the glass caught her attention, and she rested her head on her arms, using them as a pillow. Yeosang smiled softly, noticing how peaceful she looked, the weight of her tiredness giving way to calmness. He couldn’t help but admire the small details—her hair falling slightly over her face, the delicate curve of her lips, and how even in sleep, there was a vulnerability to her that he found endearing.
Realizing she had been asleep for nearly half an hour, Yeosang figured she would wake soon. As if on cue, he rose from his desk and made his way to the café corner, ordering two hot caramel lattes. He returned to his desk, scribbling a quick note on a pink post-it: A little pick-me-up for your late-night study session. Be sure to eat and get plenty of rest. I’m cheering for you! – Your local librarian.
Once the note was attached, he walked quietly over to her, careful not to disturb her as he placed the warm cup of coffee on the table beside her. He returned to his desk, watching her from the corner of his eye, a gentle smile tugging at his lips.
A few minutes later, she stirred, blinking groggily as she rubbed sleep from her eyes. She stretched slowly, her gaze catching the coffee mug first. She looked confused for a moment before noticing the note and the steaming cup. She picked up the mug, the warmth of it a welcome sensation, and inhaled deeply, taking in the comforting caramel scent. A smile curved her lips as she read the note, her eyes scanning the words carefully. Yeosang had erased and rewritten them several times before settling on the final message, and he couldn’t help but feel a flutter in his chest as she read it.
As she finished the drink, she tucked the note into her pocket, a small, quiet smile still lingering on her lips. She packed up her laptop and books, moving to leave, but paused with her hand on the door. Turning back to Yeosang, she nodded in thanks for the latte before heading out into the cool night air.
Yeosang watched her disappear around the corner, his heart warming at the simple exchange. There was something about her that captivated him, something that drew him in even from afar. As he continued with his work, he couldn’t help but hope this was just the beginning of something more—a story that was still unfolding, with him as a quiet part of her world.
And as the door closed softly behind her, Yeosang couldn’t help but think, Perhaps this is how it starts—just like the beginning of a book.
