pairing ⟡ ericsohn x fem!reader
warning ⟡ 18+, mdni, smut, pussy eating, masturbation, explicit content, kind of dumb!eric, dom!eric, needy!eric
word count ⟡ 2.9k
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variety of snacks. chips, biscuits, candy — just a bunch of sweets.
everything seemed dull, the display of treats didn’t look appealing or make him salivate on the spot. the sounds of crunching, crumbling ripple through the air as his hands would rummage within the drawer full of snacks, stomach rumbling out of patience — nothing looked appetizing.
his stomach kept growling louder as he continued his search. a stack of chips, a range of multiple flavours, a candy bar, roasted nuts. on an average day, he would eat it but he wasn’t in the mood for most of these snacks.
except for this one.
it was deep in the drawer, almost as if you were trying to hide it from him. it was packaged with red, valentine themed coloured paper, carefully wrapped in foil with metallic tones peeking through the packaging. “tabs chocolate” whatever that means. it was labeled with gold typography, engraved with bold designs — huh, seems a bit seductive.
eric thoroughly studied every detail, tracing his fingers, slowly and delicately. he could smell incense of the chocolate through the wrapper, leaking with nutty and sweet fragrances. he caught himself salivating at the sight like a puppy who perks up from the sound of treats from across the room, already drooling at the thought. he flips the chocolate over, rustling with each touch of his fingertips sticking to the paper. everything was in cursive, as if he could read it that well. and on top of that his vision wasn’t that great.
squinting, hoping his vision would be more clearer but it didn’t. he cursed to himself, irritated that his vision was failing to clear up. fuck, he wishes he had his glasses on him but they were nowhere to be found, and yet his stomach kept growling, eating him alive.
man fuck it.
he carefully peels off the wrapper, avoiding any obstacles from causing it to tear. he skins off the second layer, the foil loses its perfect form as it creates wrinkles. a whiff of warm, rich tones of spice burst through his nose, weaving through his senses as the chocolate was now uncovered.
the other day, he saw you holding that same chocolate bar when you came back from work, wondering what snacks you’ve brought this time but he never paid attention to it until now.
he breaks off a piece, holding a huge chunk between his fingers — slowly inspecting it like he uncovered a clue to some puzzle. with precision, full concentration on the piece of chocolate.
dark, smooth, velvety to the touch. bits of almonds mixed with the creamy texture. the warmth from his fingers was melting the chocolate, the rich consistency staining as he continued to observe. damn, he’s never been more excited to eat chocolate.
without a thought, he takes a bite, eating an entire chunk, not knowing the consequences of his actions.
oh lord.
☠︎︎
the sound of keys, jingle, as they were bunched together, trying to find the right one as it echoes across the hallway of your apartment building before you crack open the door.
the lock faintly clicks, slowly opening the door. “i’m home!” your voice is alert and attentive. closing the door behind you before you fully grasped yourself, not registering that he wasn’t answering like usual.
the apartment was dead silent, eerie and unnatural. it was so quiet that you could hear the wind from outside, the leaves rustling as they washed away like wisps.
“babe?” your voice, soft with a hint of worriness in your tone. weird.
he was definitely home, no rehearsals, no interviews — his schedule was pretty light today. so why was it so quiet in here?
“eric?” you called again, and was met with silence.
wait.
you hear a distinct sound coming from down the hallway, actually it was coming from the bedroom.
“mmph!” a soft, almost like a moan was heard from the bedroom once again, gradually getting louder with each step you take.
the door was cracked open, slightly, and there he was, what seemed to be pleasuring himself but, you can barely see him with the door covering most of his body. the room was dimly lit, the light from the window illuminating a soft golden glow through the room. you quietly creep towards the door, tippy toeing with the best of your abilities.
“f-fuck — baby I need you so bad..” he whines once again but it was more desperate, more needy.
you hid behind the door quietly as you can. you peeked your head through the crack, not too much but enough to reveal him.
messy jet black hair, all tangled in the sheets. his skin was tinged with a radiant glow — golden with a toasted wash that made him look sun kissed; the bed that was once perfected was now crinkled, creating a ruffled map of his heated session. the grip on his cock was suffocating, so tight, so rigid. his other hand was clutching the sheets so tightly, knuckles buried deep into the mattress as they turned white with frustration. your eyes dart slightly to the bedside table: a bottle of lotion — a small drop of cream, peeking out from the actuator, oozing when he pumped a small dose on his palm. beside it, there was a crumpled mess of some sort of wrapper, a sultry red, foil ripped slightly. it kind of looked like the chocolate bar you bought.
hold on.
your eyes widened with shock, coming to a realization — it was the chocolate bar you bought. he ate the entire thing..?
did he not know that there was aphrodisiac…?
“f-fuck baby, where are you — i miss you.” his voice, gradually getting more desperate with each stroke. soft, agonizing pumps as he kept beating till his dick went lump. if only he knew that you were standing right outside the door hearing the entire thing.
damn, he sounded hot. the way he sounds beneath the sheets, dripping with ecstasy as his thoughts flooded with the memories of you. his lips were parted slightly, shallow breaths escaping him as his muscles were taut. with each stroke — his biceps flex, revealing his toned structure. he was getting more sensitive, trembling even.
scenarios of you resurfaced his mind. whenever you smile, eyes accentuate with a flicker of warmth that makes his heart swell. your presence itself, it was irresistible like a drug, impossible to resist.
he groans, breathy and shaky. sticky, squelching noises bursting as the sounds of his dick were becoming louder and sloppier as his pace was slowly increasing — he was losing it.
you caught yourself biting your lips, thighs clenching tightly as the warmth of your core intensifying with the air thickening under your skin. your thoughts were scrambling in your head, scenarios dispersing with the echoes of his moans bombarding your mind.
you were too lost in your thoughts; you accidentally leaned a little too much, causing the door to slightly move which he quickly notices.
“B-BABE??!!” he immediately shot up, looking at you with embarrassment. he grabs the duvet and shields his body from you. “y-you’re home early. i-i didn’t hear you come in” clears his throat as he tries to break off the awkwardness.
“y-yeah, they sent me home early.” you try to make light of the situation, ignoring the fact you caught him masturbating to the thought of you.
you examined his face. flushed, flustered, anxious. his breath was uneasy, stomach slowly rises and falls, taking in deep breaths with each exhale shuddering. his cheeks tinged with a flush that makes him look drunk, and with pure desire. eyes fluttered as they refused to look at you, feeling remorse for his actions but he wasn’t really ashamed.
yeah, he was embarrassed but the rush of desire was crashing him like a wave, consuming him the more he realized that you were a metre away. fuck, what was in that chocolate bar. his body felt like it was set on a fire — not even a refreshing cold bucket of water could cure him. the heat was immensely rapid but something about this heat felt like it wasn’t from humidity, no, this wasn’t heat at all. this was a craving, an appetite for hunger — sexual desire.
he needed a cure.
you.
“hey, are you okay?” your brows furrow, eyes searching for any signs of flickers, concerns as you say with a worried tone while inching closer to him.
you slowly plop yourself onto the bed, the mattress sinking as your weight crushes the soft foam. you put your palm to his forehead — he was burning, his temperature was fluctuating with your cold hand, it felt like he had a fever.
“omg babe, you’re burning. hold on i’ll ge-”
he grabs your wrist, a grip that said everything but nothing at all once. just before you get up, he pulls you close to his chest. “eric?”
his expression was unreadable, he doesn’t utter a word but instead, just pins you down on the bed with you underneath him. the covers fell gently on eric’s back like it was controlled by air.
his lips crash onto yours. no second thoughts, no doubts, not a hint of hesitation. you’re taken aback by his sudden approach, eyes widened with surprise from the way his body reacts to you but you slowly melted onto his touch. his tongue danced around your mouth with hunger as you tried to keep up but he was ravaging your mouth as if time has shifted with every second counted. you wrap your arm around his neck, pulling him even closer with his hands exploring your frame, clothes riding up with every graze. “nngh — i need you.” he fidgets with the buttons on your shirt, trying to unbutton but his patience was wearing thin so he pried open your collared shirt with irritation, exposing you with only your bra.
by coincidence, you were wearing his favourite pair: a simple cotton black bra with a miniature bow placed on the center gore. though it was simple, it still did a number on his dick. he carefully unclasps your bra, throwing it across the room like it was a piece of scrap. god, you look ethereal under him. the way your hair was already messy from the slightest tension and the way you’re breathing heavily while looking at him with your eyes — a silent plea that spoke of a relief that only he could offer.
“I’m yours.”
“I want you.”
your eyes were his weakness, his entire body buzzed with tension as muscles were tightening before he got to take his time with you. his palm was placed on your tits, massaging as his other hand traces your delicate skin. his touch felt surreal, each symbolized a surge of ache — an addicting feeling you never want to let go.
“i want to taste you, baby.” his voice escaped with a breathy tone, his lips leave yours but only to trail down your body with tenderness. his hands play with your nipples while his lips skims through the outline of your jaw, the valley of your neck and along your collarbone, leaving a lingering path of affection as he kisses you non-stop. until he pauses, slowly unraveling your pants as he gently grips the fabric pulling it down swiftly like he’s practiced this.
till you’re left with only panties.
he removes your undergarments, leaving them on the cold wooden floor.
your pretty pink pussy all laid out, like a five star meal being served all for him. he felt his mouth watering at the sight, pupils dilating with the look of starvation. his pulse was fluttering, the nerves were thrumming out of control like you were the most delicious thing he’s ever seen.
you feel his hot breath, hovering over your pulsating pussy. each breath sends a jolt of electricity through your body, buzzing with intensity. he gazes up at you, giving you a cold, devouring stare. glimmering with pure control, a glance of unwavering dominance, almost as if he was gonna eat you up. literally.
his gaze alone already tells you what you need to know. an appeal plastered on his face has you feeling small and all ready for him. his hands grip the meat of your thighs, feeling like pillows under his hands as he pulls you closer with such possessiveness, nails seeping into your skin with such a deadly grip like he was glued to you.
he pays attention to every curve of your thighs, putting his focus on everything, leaving nothing unattended. he pampers your thighs with small light pecks, gradually getting closer and closer to your hungry pussy.
finally, his face is aligned with your plump pussy lips, the same ones he was dreaming about and the moment he was waiting for, which felt like minutes turned into hours and hours turned into days — now he has you, under him, breathless with unspoken desire. he places a light kiss on your pussy, causing you to flinch in response. he smirks against you, your sudden reaction makes him crave more. light kisses quickly turned into fully making out with your core. sloppy, wet kisses along your pussy lips, teetering between licking a strip of your slick while you were dripping underneath him, aching for more. you were becoming a moaning mess for him which was music to his ears.
he’s been waiting for this moment. he didn’t know how long he could contain himself until he fully broke.
his mouth was sending you to frenzy, a high that you didn’t know you could enter. his tongue was warm, inviting. your body tingles as he drags it all around your pussy, saliva mixing with your juices, making you wetter than before.
his tongue was against your clit which made it unbearable with the pressure making it more intense.
“fuck!” your head was thrown back, fingers clutching the bed sheets so tightly as you whimper. his tongue was pleasuring you expertly — swishing, swirling, curling, sucking every last bit of you like he hasn’t eaten in days. then suddenly, he pushed his tongue into your throbbing entrance, your hand immediately swats to his hair, grabbing a fistful of his soft locks. he hisses, but he was loving every second of it.
your thighs were clamping on him, suffocating as he kept eating you but he didn’t care. his mind was boggled with erotic images of you, the way you taste under his tongue, the way your body fully succumbs to him, obeying every command.
your velvety walls were sucking his tongue in, not letting him go. he groans beneath you, sending a wave of vibration through you as your moans become broken and hoarse every time your lips part. he was digging deeper, tickling all of your sensitive spots like it’s a natural instinct. the sounds of slurping was reverberating around the room, overlapping with your moans. his motions were timed, calculated yet it was sloppy, desperate and aggressive. his desperation fueled his aggression — playing around with your sensitive bud, sucking hard on your clit as he wanted to see you crumble, fall apart.
and your sounds were only fueling his hunger even more.
“fuck baby, you taste so good.” he mumbles, heavy with lust. he sees you trembling. were you getting close?
the grip on his hair was getting tighter, your thighs were clenching so hard around him, he feels like his air supply was about to cut off.
“e-eric, i-i’m getting close.” you shriek, he smirks once again, but this time, it was different. maybe it’s the way your eyes are getting glossy from the overwhelming pleasure but the way he looks right now, made you go hysterical.
he was taking his sweet time, savouring the flavour of your slick like you were a lollipop. teasingly, slow deliberate movements as it coats his tongue, alternating with each flick and stroke. he was not letting you breathe, your thighs were trembling uncontrollably. as much you try to hold yourself stable, you couldn’t — not when this overstimulating heaviness was clouding your entire body. “cum on my tongue baby” he mutters against you, his voice was dark, stern, commanding.
shit.
“m’gonna c-cum!” you moan loudly with eyes clenched shut, holding onto his hair for dear life.
his tongue flicking faster as your body shifts aggressively on the bed. his grip was getting firmer, trying to keep you stable. your muscles are taut, you feel your orgasm slowly approaching, taking over your body. your voice was constrained, it felt like if you uttered another sound — nothing would come out.
you came, pools of your juices were overflowing your hole like they were coming in currents. sweat beading across your forehead, your muscles were strained and your eyes were tearing up, drops streaming down your face from the pleasure.
he catches pools of your slick, flowing on his tongue like syrup. drinking in every last bit, not letting a single drop go to waste. he wipes his mouth with the leftover juice smothered all over his lips with the tip of his tongue licking the corners of his mouth until none was left. he was breathing raggedly like he just won a race of who can chug a bottle of water in one go.
“that chocolate bar you bought, what the hell was in it…” was he serious….? oh my god! he was serious.
“babe…those were aphrodisiac chocolates….” your voice, quiet, almost a whisper while still catching your breath.
he looks at you with a confused expression, his brows furrow together, not a single thought retorts in his mind.
“they were sex chocolates. that’s why you’ve been acting like....that.” you sigh as you gestured to all of him.
“ohhhh….oh.”
maybe you should warn him next time.
“well you up for another round?” his eyes sparkle with glimmer of anticipation while giving you puppy dog eyes.
or maybe you shouldn’t buy the chocolate again.
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lolli's notes ⟡ hi everyone! i wanted to write about eric because why not and i can’t get over this photoshoot. dazed eric….he looks so good. i know tabs chocolate is a real thing and i know it’s not shaped like a chocolate bar but let’s pretend it is. hope y’all enjoyed this one!
lolli: you've completed the objective! what's your plan now?
✧ pairing: sneaky link/situationship idol! juyeon x fem! reader
✦ genre: smut w/ hints of angst n fluff
✧ warnings: 18+ (minors DNI), smut, cowgirl position, riding, unprotected sex (WRAP IT FOLKS), creampie, dirty talk, praising, pet names, cursing, kissing, marking, spanking, fluff, secret relationship, hints of angst, “star-crossed lovers” trope kinda-ish question mark so things are kept on the low under restrictions
✦ word count: 3.6k words
✧ synopsis: you’ve tried various positions with the lee juyeon. will you ever get to be in the position of being his official girlfriend or able to be a normal couple? or is that merely a fantasy?
✦ note: inspired by the weeknd’s song “double fantasy” enjoy! xo <3
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪
“‘Atta girl. You do so good for me every time.” he praises as your naked form sinks down to take his cock. Your hands are holding dearly onto his shoulders while his own are stuck to either side of you.
He ensures you carefully sit over his dick, his head resting against your headboard, sighing wistfully. Taking him inch by inch and hearing those strained and broken, heavenly moans of yours is reminiscent of the last time you guys did it— and the time before that. And the time before that.
Your back arches and chest pumps towards his face, hissing while adjusting to his delectable, girthy length. Your cunt was well-acquainted with his cock, inviting him inside your hole every so often for a while now.
Even though your parts fit together perfectly, your thighs twitch and you have to take a breather. Being stuffed to the brim with his manhood takes a minute to settle into. Your walls tightly encompass his cock, getting him to throb at the awaited sensation.
In between schedules and even during hectic moments, you invaded his mind. You were his relief and breath of fresh air in the midst of his chaotic and bustling life.
Your nude body on top of his reminded him how real he is. That he gets to experience the rawness of molding together with you. Having this intoxicating moment behind closed doors, shielded from the public and cameras.
Right here and right now, only thing that mattered was fucking his special girl.
During this time, you had his attention fully and vice versa. All frustrations and tension from your personal lives and being apart was taken out in the form of erotic skin-on-skin contact.
Once his cock is gladly received and your walls ease up, you start playing with your favorite toy, rocking your hips slowly to get the friction you crave.
Your fingers rake down from his shoulders to his chest, holding onto the guy whose mere presence gets you short-winded.
“Missed me?” he mumbles, hands holding your hips and tracing the curves.
You leaned forward, tits hanging in perfect view for him while you rubbed against his pubic bone. In response to his question, you only moaned softly, overwhelmed with how stuffed you were and the way your clit sparked from the friction.
You also honestly were afraid to admit aloud that you did in fact, missed him. There was no doubt that he knew it was true, but saying it to his face was scary.
It’s silly, but this thing you’ve got going on with Juyeon was mainly physical. Even if you wanted more, you knew that request would be hard to fulfill considering his current career. It’s a miracle he even managed to make time for your hookups and keep this situationship under wraps.
He smirks at your sultry, sweet sounds. Your sounds aren’t a proper answer, but they still speak volumes to him.
“Yeah? Is that right?” he teases you for your needy mewls.
“I missed you and your sexy ass.” he uses one of his massive hands to smack against an ass cheek.
You gasp loudly and practically jolt, turned on by the sting and his confession. Your walls hug him enthusiastically, leaving him to groan and maneuver his hands to your back. He pushes you closer to him to begin kissing up your neck, letting his lips display how much your body did wonders to him.
Your neck angles automatically and his nice kisses turn more ravenous after each one. He’s keen on treasuring your body, pulling your skin slightly between his lips. He cups your skin with his mouth, nipping at it gently.
Your whimpers don’t stop, only encouraging him to keep going and drag his lips towards your chest. Those beautiful lip corners of his raise while he wraps his lips around a mound, suckling and tugging on your erect bud.
His wet, steamy mouth over your tit blows your breath away. The way he sucks and starts gladly licking your nipple inclines you to bring a hand to his hair, fisting his black strands and encouraging his behavior.
He takes a second to look up at you while he stops and moves on to your other breast. You see hunger and desperation through his orbs, communicating to you with his mouth and eyes how insanely crazy you drive him. It’s like it’s his destiny to fuck and worship your body nonstop.
Both of your parts throb against each other, turned on to the max. You whimper as he looks up at you while pulling on your nipple, your body twitching and subtly grinding over him.
Looking at him like this all for you ignites passion within. You’d allow him to do anything he wanted to you if it meant viewing that gaze, him itching with lust for you.
You’re basking in being pampered by Lee Juyeon. His blistering kisses, licks, and starved bites creates a roller coaster of emotions for you. You gleefully surrender yourself to him, and he enjoys the way your body responds to him when he makes all these moves on you.
He doesn’t have to think twice about leaving hickeys behind, leaving traces of him so you’d have something to remind you of him in his absence. The reddish-purple splotches also served with intent of his claim over you.
Yes, under circumstances, he couldn’t publicly flaunt you and show you off. But when you’re left alone for days and sometimes even weeks, his scent and marks lingers over your home and body. It reminds you that he has you hooked and possessed.
What a shame you’re unable to mark him as you please for obvious reasons. It’s too risky. You have to be extra careful with your mouth and nails. It really does suck, but at least you get to have him to an extent at all, and he’s never shy with the physical affection he brings you when you get together, being more than generous.
“Ride me, babydoll. Like the good girl that you are for me.” Juyeon breathes out, giving your tits a few more kisses.
You fucking adore more than you’d like to admit being called his good girl, so you do as told, raising your hands to hold onto your headboard, followed by raising your hips.
You lift yourself carefully, letting some of his length slide out of you before sucking it back in again. Gasps and groans release from both of you at the sensation.
Juyeon’s hands move to your rear, supporting you in your movements. You start repeatedly moving up and down with breasts, thighs, and butt cheeks jiggling and clapping over his body.
A delicious rhythm has begun with his support. His fingers press into your fleshy ass and his hands on your rear, not being able to resist grabbing your precious peach that fills up his hands. His weighty hands also serve as aid for your movements, working with your hips to glide your pussy walls over his cock.
Getting drilled by his cock and hopping like a bunny over it is mind-numbing pleasure for you. And for him, the sensation of his dick getting stroked repeatedly and penetrating you deeply thanks to this position is mouthwatering.
With you riding him, he has close access to every inch of you. He has a front row seat of your beautiful breasts bouncing and face that appears wrecked and out of it with every plunge.
His cock head hits spots that only he can reach and bless, leaving you two in a state of elated bliss.
He’s unable to keep his hands situated in one spot. They roam freely over your hips, tracing your silhouette and entranced by every inch of you. Parts of you that are usually covered are here for him to see, all for himself, admiring the body that you bear.
In every other bounce he smacks your ass, which in turn, riles you up and gets you even more turned on.
“Juyeon! Fuck!” you breathlessly moan, fingers curling hard into the headboard as you moved your hips in all directions. By this point, Juyeon is meeting your movements with upward thrusts into you and helps you bounce with the palm of his hands. Sweat pearls on his forehead and it glistens especially all down your spine from the desperate activity.
The sex only continues to stay intense, especially when Juyeon starts to practically growl. His thrusts become quicker and harder with him now doing most of the work. He’s relentlessly moving, indicating that he’s close to cumming.
Fucking you was such a high. Your gummy walls gripped his cock fittingly, like your pussy was made for him. He was hitting deep into you. Precum dripped down his tip and spread, creating a mess that mixed with your own arousal. Squelching filled the room alongside sounds of skin slapping, moans, and the bed creaking.
Your being provides a rush to Juyeon. He craved intimacy and a body to keep him warm. You were that body, a person who smiled genuinely when you saw him and asked and listened about how his life’s going.
The sex between you two was phenomenal, but your attitude and way you perceive him is the other part of why he keeps coming back to you.
There’s clearly trust and some sort of bond formed between you both. You kept this relationship, situationship— or whatever the hell this was on the low, protective of his idol life and respecting him.
He relies on you to bring him comfort in any way he needs it, and you give it to him willingly, happy to have him however and whenever you can because you may or may not have fallen in love with him. And maybe, just maybe, he has fallen in love with you, too.
It’s complicated really, to be involved with someone in his position. It’d be hard to have a regular relationship and to keep promises, his life being so on-the-go and unpredictable.
But he can’t stray away from you. It would be better if he let you be with someone else with consistency and he just have casual flings to satisfy his needs. But you two can’t let one another go. You make do with what works for now, and pray one another’s heart doesn’t get broken in the process.
When he’s around you, and especially when your bodies are connected like this, he’s reminded how much he has to keep you in his life. His escape from stress and the real world, the person who keeps him grounded and appreciates all sides of him, from all angles.
These emotional feelings towards you and physically getting his length actively stroked and gripped by your cunt swamps him in a warmth that starts at his lower belly and extends between his legs and cock base.
It’s all he can focus on, that red hot intense pulsing that’s begging to be erupted and relieved.
Juyeon’s tongue runs over his teeth, persistently driving his cock into you. Your mewls and cries from his efforts only charge him, leading his muscles to contract.
A blast of semen finally shoots up into you from his bloated head, followed by more throbs and squirts of cum until he’s emptied out. His head leans back from the electrifying bust, heavy-lidded, biting his lower lip with low grunts.
His hips stutter and movements are sloppy as his warm liquid fills you up. His swollen, hard cock pulsing and spewing inside of you has you swaying and squeezing his shaft.
It’s gratifying watching him cum, that you’re the sole reason why. He shudders and groans as he finishes and from you squeezing him due to being so aroused.
Your hands drop from the headboard to his flushed chest, smoothing sensually over it before hooking your arms around his neck and leaning forward.
You start reaching for your high, boning your hips into him, twirling over his dick that’s growing overstimulated and stimulating your puffy clit.
Desperate breaths and broken mewls leave your throat while Juyeon’s hissing from the sensitivity. Though, he encourages you to finish, talking you through it while groping and slapping your ass in between.
“Keep going, fuck.”
“I’ve got you baby, use me all you want.”
“Cum for me, babydoll.”
And then you break, mouth fallen open, releasing stuttered gasps as your pussy pushes against him. Your muscles are spasming and heart rate is reaching the clouds as you cream all over his cock.
The sensational pleasure that comes with climaxing puts you into a trance. He’s fucked you stupid, mind shutting down to anything that isn’t that tingly pressure releasing that makes you feel giddy and satisfied.
“That’s it, mhmm.” Feels good, huh?” A hand of Juyeon’s begins to rub at your back, his calming touch bringing you back down.
Goosebumps spread all over your skin and all you can do is pant, out of breath. You allow yourself to slowly fall on top of him, his cock now softening and still inside you. Your face digs itself into the crook of his neck, and he brings his other hand to the back of your messy hair, petting your head.
Your warm, sweaty bodies hug together, listening to one another’s irregular breaths and heartbeats make effort to go back to normal.
And for a little while, it seems like time stops. Juyeon’s presence and protective hold shields you like a blanket. He allows your mind to stay peaceful and dreamy, purely basking in him holding you in bed, naked bodies still molded together.
Once you’ve had enough time to come down from the clouds and regain clarity, Juyeon gently pulls himself out of you. The sensation makes you slightly shiver and hiss, and he tongues his cheek at the feeling.
It takes so much in him to not wanna shove his dick back in you when your pretty pussy starts leaking you guys’ mixed fluids. The sight makes him have to hold back a growl to not sound like such an animal.
Luckily, the long night ahead leaves room to spend time together however you liked.
You two forget about the outside world for awhile, too busy indulging in each other.
That consisted of showering together, plenty more sex, and sweet, long conversations that involved subjects like how he feels about the latest song he’s recently recorded for, and reminiscing his trips to Paris for fashion week— of which, has his lips curling subconsciously when he says things like “You would die for this one café I went to” and “Damn, I wish you could come with me next time.”
And you shared things about your life, too. Telling him stuff like your latest online purchase, and the tragic tale of dropping the pizza you tried to carefully take out of the oven the other day— that you still ate, of course!
It was all ordinary stories, small victories in your life recently, and silly jokes in between from you.
But Juyeon liked that. He listened attentively just like you did when hearing him speak.
Hearing you talk about what you had for breakfast or the long-awaited update on your silly family drama meant so much to him. You guys were catching up. Regardless of the contrast in activities and lifestyle, he cares to know about what’s going on with you, big or small. He’s just thankful that he gets to be with you.
You might feel insecure about how mundane your life seemed or worried that you’re boring him, but Juyeon is extremely fond of you. Whatever you said was important to him, because all that matters is that you’re conversing freely with him, together at last.
Before you know it, you two have passed out cuddled-up in your bed.
———————————————————————————
You don’t remember when you fell into slumber, or how long you’ve been out for.
It’s only been a few seconds since you’ve woken up, but what you do realize is there’s no body curled up and pressed against you anymore. The loss of Juyeon near you makes you moan tiredly, shifting loosely.
You worry he’s already gone until you adjust your eyes properly, seeing that his form is standing next to bed, torso bare and barely putting on his pants.
Your sounds and movements show that you’re now fully awake, so he turns to you, leaning over the bed to softly brush your hair.
“Hey, baby. Sorry if I woke you up.” he whispers, watching you rub the sleep out from your eyes, lips swollen, chapped, and pouted.
“What time is it?” your voice comes out low.
“Seven. I gotta get going.” despite his words, he fully sits down next to you, still half-dressed.
You adjust yourself to sit upright. Last night, he had told you that he had a jacket shoot early in the morning, followed by a movie premiere in the evening to attend the next day.
The part you dread greatly has come, where you bid goodbye. It was a set-routine at this point, but it never got easier.
It sounds dramatic, but your interactions with Juyeon were limited and not as frequent as you’d like it to be. His life is extremely demanding, and his personal life had to remain private to protect himself and the people he loves.
So, you had to grow accustomed to not hearing much from him for days, not seeing him as much as you’d like, and only being able to hangout within limited places like your house 90 percent of the time.
Having to navigate your relationship this way leaves a sour taste in Juyeon’s mouth and it worries him that he’s hurting your feelings, but you’re willing to make it work. You’ll always be here for him, supporting him and he’s aware of that. Which is why he feels shitty and blue every time he has to leave you.
You can never get yourself to tell him how much you’ll miss him or love him, so instead, you nuzzle your head against his chest, instantly wrapping your arms around him.
His own arms respond immediately, doing the same over your form. You give him a tight hug, and he just holds you in silence for a minute, wallowing in the comfort of each other.
“I’m still wearing your shirt. You need it back?” you speak up as you take note with your cheek pressing against his bare chest. After getting handsy and dirty with each other for a few rounds, he covered you with his shirt to sleep in, as he did most of the time.
Nah, keep it on. I’ll just grab a new one in the closet. You still have my other shirts here, right?”
You can’t resist in smiling at his words, knowing that yes, you did keep a handful of his clothing stored inside your closet.
What can you say, you liked wearing and stealing his clothes. And, Juyeon encourages it, too. He also likes leaving extra clothing behind here because even though he’s not able to be around as much as he’d like to and you don’t live together, this is still his home.
“Always.” you dotted a tiny kiss over his chest and he hums.
The small gesture and that singular word gives him the biggest urge to pull your lips towards his mouth to kiss you, and he does give into it.
He lets his lips do the talking of how his heart and mind feels, kissing you like there’s no tomorrow, profound feelings of attachment and attraction towards you behind the way his lips move with yours.
You cherish the kiss, just like you did any other with him, never seeming to get enough of him.
After unspoken feelings of love and yearn through kisses and glossy eyes, you two had to let go so Juyeon wouldn’t be late.
Reluctantly, you each let go, and he gets off your bed to walk towards your closet. You sat in bed, watching him while your figure and mind feels like it’s in defeat.
You bunched up the bottom of Juyeon’s shirt that you wear in your hands, clutching tightly onto something that belongs to him. Seeing him get ready to leave feels like a pin stabbing at your heart, deflating it until it collapses, left empty until his next return.
Juyeon is filled with guilt and feels like he’s abandoning you, but he hopes you know that there’s a permanent spot reserved for you in his mind. He’s always thinking of you, selfishly hoping you never forget about him, too.
Once he’s properly dressed, he steers back to you. You try to put on your best smile, trying to conceal the fact that you’re bummed that he always has to leave like this.
Juyeon knows you’re trying your best for him. As if to reassure you and make it known that he appreciates your efforts, he taps your chin with his thumb, getting you to look at him with those doll-like eyes of yours.
He tips down to press a kiss over that adorable bed-head of yours, savoring your scent. You melt under his touch one last time.
“I’ll see you soon, cutie. Okay?” he voices, giving you a small nod.
“Okay.” you whispered, eyes locking once more before he leaves your bedroom and finds his own way out.
You’re left alone on your bed that seems massive and lonely without him in it. You stare at nothing in particular, listening to him step out of your house, doors shutting and locking as he does so.
Now, all you can do is attempt to fall back sleep.
At least in your slumber, you can be closer to him inside your dreams.
@yudaies when will I stop writing for you? 사랑, 𝓈𝘰𝘱𝘩
“Which one?” You asked, holding up a silk, black maxi dress that only hugged the top half of your body and another that hugged all of your shape but arguably showed less skin—besides the open back, of course.
It shouldn’t have been a difficult decision, but you were having trouble deciding which one looked best—Afterall, you liked them both. And the heels you wanted to wear didn’t help by being a basic black pair that matched practically everything. You’ve even worn them casually with jeans.
The man behind you, your boyfriend, was eyeing them through the mirror you stood in front of. You’d just finished doing your makeup and hair, actually content with how both turned out; the success was making you excited to be going out.
You hadn’t had the chance to see friends much during the catastrophe you called balancing work and Eric—who was always busy, and when he wasn’t, was always with you. But, you had your best friend, who came over often when your boyfriend was overseas on tour or just plain busy, and occasionally you’d go out for drinks with others who reached out. Truthfully, you wouldn’t have it any other way. It was a simple life, but it was yours.
His eyes landed on your face as he grabbed the one from your left hand: the non-silk maxi.
“This one’s easier for me to take off,” He joked.
“Not funny, Eric.” You side-eyed, scrunching the other in the crevasse of your elbow so it didn’t drag on the floor. “Does it look better on me than the other?”
Throwing the dress over his shoulder, his hands found your waist, “You look good in both, but yeah,” He sighed, bringing his lips down to the skin at the nape of your neck, “It’s the open back, especially when you wear your hair up, drives me insane, you know.”
You giggled, but relished in the way he held you against his defined body. The way he kissed your skin so gently, caressing your waist over the sleep shorts you were getting ready in.
“Is it too…” You smirked, huffing out your nose, knowing what he was going to say before he had the chance to reply, “Modest?”
He laughed, and your eyes rolled, “Nobody needs to know you’re a freak besides me, baby,” Eric voiced, kissing your cheek in between words and playfully looking through the mirror, “Keep up your princess act for everyone else.”
genre. fluff.
warnings. eric's yapping abt furry stuff 😟 reader hates on furries. slight make out. not proofread
pairing. eric x fem!reader.
wc. 951.
request. no.
a/n. @hursheys i hope this fulfills your eric delusions ☝️ i kinda hate the ending but whatever we're gonna roll with it.
net. @deoboyznet
“So then he was like ‘well that’s totally furry behaviour’, and, obviously, I took offense to that. Cause, like, hello that’s absurd! I’m not a furry. I just bark occasionally—”
You were all too familiar with Eric’s chronic insomnia. Much like a toddler, if he didn’t do enough during the day to exhaust his endless energy, he could easily stay up all night with no sense of time or how tired other people (you) were. You closed your eyes, still half-listening to your boyfriend’s rambling, although you had lost the context of it a long time ago. If you were lucky, you might even be able to fall asleep to his yapping…
As if.
“So I was like, ‘dude, I have a girlfriend, why would you even suggest that’!? They went without me— good riddance— and I blocked them too, so there’s no need to worry. Maybe this is what Kevin meant when he warned me to stop hanging out with random people I meet on the streets. But, I met you on the streets too, so I can’t trust anything Kevin says anymore. Imagine if I hadn’t stopped to get your number at the crosswalk? My life would be so boring now!” Eric continued animatedly, drumming his fingers against the pillow that rested in his lap, picking out the rhythm to one of The Boyz’s songs.
“And I might actually be able to get some sleep…” You interjected with a tired whisper, rolling on your side to face your boyfriend. You opened your eyes with a pointed glare, and Eric’s let out a small “oh”.
“Right. Sorry, baby. You should sleep.” He said quickly, plopping down next to you and planting a quick kiss to your forehead. He was quiet for around 3 minutes, before you heard a small whisper close to your face.
“You don’t ever regret taking my number, do you?” You opened one eye to find Eric staring at you, his eyes wide like a puppy’s.
“No, I don’t regret it.” You said truthfully, a yawn coming in at the end of your response. Eric smiled slightly, his brain telling him that he should let you finally sleep, but it seemed his mouth had other ideas.
“What if I was a furry? Would you still date me?” You had to hold back a laugh at the question, assuming that it was a reference to his earlier rambling. Although you couldn’t recall how the full conversation had gone, you were pretty sure that even if you did, it wouldn’t help you understand Eric’s brain.
“Who said you weren’t already?” You asked sarcastically, earning a pout from the boy that was almost impossible to resist kissing.
“What if instead of talking to you I just barked in response?”
You raised an eyebrow at him, silently judging his train of thought that was getting increasingly more unhinged with every minute that went by. You being extremely tired didn’t help with your patience for his incessant questions. You loved your boyfriend, you really did. But sometimes you just wanted him to shut up and let you sleep.
“What if instead of walking—”
Eric thankfully was not able to finish his sentence, which you could only assume had something to do with crawling on all fours or galloping around like a pony, because you had finally given in to your thoughts and shut up his rambling with your lips. He was shocked at first, frozen in place from your sudden movement. But kissing you was as natural as breathing to him, so he quickly found his rhythm, pulling you closer by your waist and kissing you deeply.
“Was that a yes?” Came Eric’s first words when you broke off for air.
“If you mean breaking up if you became a furry, then definitely yes. Now shut your pretty mouth.” You stated clearly before crashing your lips onto his again, giving him no opportunity to protest.
It was surprising how easy it was to get lost in the kiss even when you were exhausted. With Eric eagerly leading, it was simple enough to just let him do most of the work. You tangled your fingers in his blonde hair as he squeezed your waist, letting his tongue slip past your lips gently.
It seemed your kissing idea worked wonders to exhaust your boyfriend’s energy, as when he broke it off and fell back onto the pillow, he wrapped you up in his arms and let his eyes fall close. You could feel his heart racing, your ear resting over his chest. His cheeks were flushed a pretty pink colour and his lips slightly swollen from the prolonged kiss. As his heartbeat slowed to a regular speed, you naturally matched your breathing with it, and the repetition lulled you to sleep quickly.
Eric held you tightly in his arms, listening to your steady breathing. He was tired, but his mind still raced with thoughts. Rather than meaningless questions he loved to throw at you, they all shifted to thoughts of you. He didn’t deserve your patience at the best of times, and was forever thankful that you truly loved him for himself.
He knew he could be overbearing and exhausting at times, but he tried his best to balance it with the soft romantic moments that you and him both loved. You were quite similar to each other, the more Eric thought about. Although you were definitely more subdued, which balanced his exuberant energy quite well.
He sniffed, not having realized until now that his eyes had welled up with tears from his thoughts. He sheepishly blinked them away and held you a little closer in his arms, falling into his dreamland with you.
↳ the boyz taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @blossominghunnie,, @cosmicwintr,, @weird-bookworm,, @haecien,,
➺ Drink - Negroni with a hint of amaretto (acquaintance x breeding)
➺ Summary - Lee Hyunjae was known to be the campus heartthrob and is literally the perfect guy to ever exist. Little did you know that he was hiding something behind that lovable smile of his that you have grown to love and admire.
➺ Word Count - 1,366
➺ Warnings - Smut (18+, minors DNI), frat parties yayzers, cursing, alcohol consumption, unprotected sex, clothed sex, dirty talk, rough sex, petnames (sweetheart, princess), blowjob, cum tasting, hair pulling, Hyunjae is lowkey a little sadist here (don't read if triggering!!)
➺ Author’s note - dedicating this one to the number one mirae @daisyvisions 💗 happiest birthday daisy i'll never forget the day how i went from being one of your biggest fan / reader to mutuals like it's still so bizarre to me and look at us being besties now huhu 🥺 (here's to more chaos & funsies yay!!) ngl yall i struggled a bit with this prompt bcs idk if i executed the scenario well so pls bear with me 😭
You were having second-hand thoughts about agreeing to even step out of your apartment for the night.
The semester had just ended, and your roommates convinced you that it would be best to let loose for the night and attend a frat party hosted by the seniors for the night. As if it wasn’t horrible enough that you weren’t too much of a social butterfly, but hanging out with the guys that were one year ahead of you didn’t sound too comfortable for your liking.
However, your roommates had opinions that contradicted yours—saying that older guys are much better than the ones you have in your classes. They seem to be a lot more mature and are aware of their actions most of the time—often avoiding things that would paint them as immature and get them into trouble.
Reluctantly, you had no choice but to agree as your roommates literally dragged you out of your room and down the block. Immediately, your eyes landed on the scene before you—a house packed with students drinking to their hearts' content and partying like it was nobody’s business.
Slowly, you had to squirm your way into the actual party to get yourself a drink. After all, you were thirsty, and hanging out by the drink station seemed safer than navigating through the house. Just as you expected, your roommates immediately blended into the crowd and were nowhere to be seen. But you couldn’t blame them—they were pretty active on the campus party scene.
Just as you were browsing through the selection of alcohol to satisfy your thirst, you suddenly felt a warm breath on your neck as you turned around abruptly and ready to give whoever it was a lecture.
“Fucking hell! Did your mother never teach you how not to be a creep!?”
Immediately, you started to regret screaming at the top of your lungs when you realised who it was that had gotten your attention. It was Lee Hyunjae—one of the campus heartthrobs that everyone swoons over.
You have always admired his good looks, just like everyone else, but seeing him up close in person immediately gave you butterflies in your stomach—making you think about how this person could be real.
If it weren’t for one of your roommates who just happened to be part of the student council with Hyunjae, you would’ve never got to know who he was. Sure, you have only spared glances and said a few greetings because you would come to pick up your roommate whenever she had to stay a little longer on campus, but that was pretty much it.
That was why you were taken aback when Hyunjae said your name for the first time with his sweet voice. “Y/N, right? Never expected to see you here.”
“Well umm, Savannah dragged me here. I didn’t have a choice,” you bluntly replied.
“Definitely can see her doing that,” he chuckled before he started going through the liquors on the table and pouring different liquids into a glass as he handed it to you. “Care for a drink?”
You hesitated for a bit, but the male reassured you that he had no ill intentions while making it. Slowly, you took in a sip and closed your eyes tightly as the alcohol slowly flowed down your throat. It has been a while since you have had something this strong down your system.
“W-What is this?”
“A good-old Homely Smoke cocktail, definitely fitting for a girl like you,” he winks.
As much as that flirtatious wink of his made you feel a little uncomfortable, you had to admit that you were glad that he made you something sweet instead of a bitter one because you were not ready to puke in front of everyone for the night.
“Damn, is there anything you can’t do? An alcohol connoisseur and part of the student council? A rather deadly combo if you ask me,” you teased before taking another big sip of your drink.
Suddenly, Hyunjae hesitated for a moment before he closed his distance between you both, leaning down to whisper into your ear. “Actually, that’s not all that I’m good at.”
“Oh yeah? Show me what else you are capable of, then.”
“I’m not sure if you can take it, sweetheart.”
You were provoked, and you weren’t going down without a fight. You slowly pushed him up so that you were staring right back at him, responding to his challenge with a smirk.
“Try me.”
Maybe you should’ve been more careful with your words, and provoking the senior himself wasn’t the brightest idea in your books. Because now you find yourself lying on one of the beds in one of the empty bedrooms in the house with your legs placed over Hyunjae’s shoulder as he thrusts his cock within you.
The senior wasted no time crashing his alcohol-filled lips onto yours, kissing you feverishly as he swiftly moved you to one of the nearest bedrooms from the pantry and threw you straight onto the bed. He wasted no time in lifting your skirt and unbuckled his pants before rubbing his tip against your clit for a few moments before pushing his entire length in.
It seemed that he wanted to get to the bottom of this real quick, to the point that he didn’t care if he was sweating through the tight black tank top that he was wearing—he needed to fuck you right now.
“You said you can take me, didn’t you?” He panted as he made that remark against you, enjoying the look that was plastered across your face as you whimpered underneath him.
“H-Hyunjae…I’m sorry…”
“An apology, huh? Maybe I’ll forgive you if you can continue to hold it longer for me,” he growled as he pinned both of your hands above your head before lowering his body slightly to thrust deeper within you.
His cock slowly and roughly reached certain places within you that you never knew existed, eventually hitting your g-spot, making you yelp in agony.
“Hyunjae! I can’t!” You screamed as you balled your hands into fists, trying your best to break apart from his grip, but to no avail.
“Come on, princess. I’m just getting started,” he mocks before picking his pace up. “Tell me, how badly do you want me?”
“Hnngh…d-don’t stop…p-please…keep going…” you begged as you felt tears slowly dripping down from the side of your eyes down your cheeks.
Oh, how badly Hyunjae loved that sight of you.
“You want me? You want me to fill your pussy up with my cum to the point that it oozes out and drips down your thighs?”
“Y-Yes…please…I need it…”
“Louder, princess.”
“Y-YES!! CUM INSIDE HYUNJAE!!”
With those last words, his grip on your wrists and legs tightened to the point you felt his nails digging into your skin as he made his few final thrusts before you both eventually came together. You were feeling a good amount of liquid dripping down your thighs as you came down from your high.
But before you could even process the thought that you had just fucked your senior right here and then, Hyunjae immediately pulled you up and shoved his cock into your mouth—forcing you to clean up every single drip of his cum with your tongue.
“You said you can take me, princess. It’s your job to finish every last drop of what you made me do to you.”
Hyunjae grabbed your hair and pushed you in deeper each second, not giving you any room to take a breather. He made sure you swallowed everything before finally pulling you apart to lean down and give you a little kiss.
Just when you thought it’d all be over, he suddenly flips you around and makes you get down on all fours onto the bed before he adjusts his cock once again on your clit. Before he decided to continue with his little games, he moved forward to whisper again in your ears—making your eyes widen before giving you the biggest challenge you’ve experienced just yet.
“You know, the sudden thought of seeing little miniature versions of us both running around our future apartment doesn’t sound so bad after all.”
genre: pizza boy! eric, very mild childhood friends to acquaintances to friends to lovers au. college au, fluff, the tiniest bit of angst. mutual pining, slowburn, jealous eric, oblivous reader, the whole lot... includes pizza boy! sunwoo and eric's older sister! lisa manoban.
wc: 31k (31.071)
warnings: alcohol consumption, swearing, mention of throwing up, mentions of jealousy, the reader and eric are the same height bc i wrote this for and about myself, talks about the ex-gifted kid burnout syndrome lol.
listen to: so american - olivia rodrigo, love - wave to earth and stuck with u - ariana grande and justin bieber
being a wingman is not always the easiest task - especially not when your roommate's target is best friends with someone taking your attention away from the main goal.
a/n: thank u so much best friend @csenke for beta reading as always and thank u best friend @from-izzy for hyping me up and listening to me ramble hours upon hours about this fic (oh and also for stepping in as the reader's roommate HAHA).
“Come on, we deserve a little pizza for dinner!” your roommate, Izzy, shakes your arm as she clings to you on the sofa the way she always does when she wants you to do something. And although your dear flatmate isn’t usually the one to order in, much preferring to cook meals at home and save the leftovers for another day, you wouldn’t find her desperation for pizza as strange, if it wasn’t for the batting of her eyelashes and her pleading voice.
Surely, she doesn’t need the pizza that much, right?
“I’m not saying we don’t, I’m just saying I have leftover soup from yesterday that I have to eat tonight or else it’s gonna go bad,” you justify your protests, “but you can get one, if you want. I’m not stopping you,” you say, furrowing your eyebrows at the girl in confusion before reaching for the TV remote.
“Oh come oooon, Y/N,” she pressures, pouting at you in disappointment. More weight is put into your body as she clings to you, acting like a child throwing a tantrum. “You deserve to have delicious pizza for dinner today, because you finally bagged that internship! Isn’t that a reason to celebrate?”
“We can just pop the champagne, if you wanna celebrate–”
“Y/N, can we please just get the pizza tonight?” she turns serious for once, the smile disappearing off her face, replaced by a much more stoic expression. And see, that’s a little scary– desperation can make people do bad, bad things. You’d be a fool to turn down your flatmate’s request– you’d have to sleep with one eye open tonight…
“Okay, fine,” you grunt, shaking your head at her ridiculous antics, “from the usual place?”
“NO!” the girl chimes, making you jump in your place on the sofa with the loudness of her voice. If she wants to scream, she should move further away from your ear, goddamn it. After sending her a look full of anger, she offers you an apologetic one before she reaches for her laptop resting on the coffee table in front of you, opening it and pressing in a new Google search. “There’s this place I found with Yizhuo after class one day,” she says, scrolling through the browser and finding the site of the place she wants to order from today, “and they make pretty good pizza. So just choose one and then I’ll put it through the online order.”
“They have online orders?” you hum, interested. “Twenty-first century, this is. Online shopping for pizza…” you snicker, shaking your head in disbelief. Maybe you’re getting old– and it’s not like you don’t enjoy the comfort this gives you, not at all, you just find it a little strange to order food over the internet. What happened to phone calls?
“Yes, grandma,” Izzy sighs, “that’s like, a normal thing, I fear.”
Rolling your eyes at her irony, you scan the menu before deciding on your usual– margherita, extra cheesy. After pointing your finger at the pizza of your choice, your roommate takes it upon herself to add the meal to her cart (while also adding one she likes as well) before she proceeds further with the order. Your eyes stay glued to her, interested in the way this whole thing works– because let’s be real, ordering a pizza without having social interaction is every introvert’s dream– and watch as she hesitantly clicks onto the “add a note to your order” section of the website.
Confusion fills your veins as you stare your roommate down. What more could she possibly need for this order? Does she not just want to eat? Does she need her pizza sliced in a special way, or does she want the pepperoni in the shape of a flower, or something? You really wouldn’t be surprised, with how peculiar Izzy could get sometimes, but still– wasn’t she the one mourning about how hungry she was just a few minutes ago? Surely, she would want her food to get here the fastest it can, with no additional requests that would take up too much time.
“Don’t say anything,” she mumbles as she starts typing, and finally, it all starts to make sense.
The desperation in her voice. The determination. The need to have a pizza tonight, right now. Because after reading out the words she’s written down, you realize that it was never about the pizza itself in the first place. Knowing Izzy, you should’ve known– after the months of sharing an apartment with her, you should’ve been able to predict her antics.
There, proud, black on white, shine five words saying: Send your cutest delivery boy :)
“Izzy what the fuck–”
“I told you not to say anything!” she cuts you off, clicking through the rest of the order hurriedly, as if worried you were going to make her delete her embarrassing request.
“Okay, miss, ‘I don’t chase no man!’, I see that you’re living up to your motto. What? You ate there with Yizhuo last week and saw a cute guy doing deliveries, so you thought you’d drag him to our house instead of asking for his number like a normal person?” you grunt, shaking your head at the lengths your roommate is willing to go to– while also making her own life twice as complicated as it needs to be.
“Well, pretty much, yeah,” she peeps as she closes the laptop after paying for your pizzas– you’re not paying her back, just for the record. Not after she just publicly embarrassed you by making that stupid request with your address attached.
“Are you crazy?” you scoff. “Why didn’t you just talk to him back there?”
“He was busy!” she mourns. “Look, this is me shooting my shot. You’re getting a pizza out of it, so I don’t see the problem here.”
“The problem is you doing all of this when you could’ve literally just walked up to him last week and introduced yourself,” you say, watching your roommate physically crumble under your scolding, but truthful words.
Izzy slides down further into the sofa, as if to shield herself from the attack. She puts her hands over her face, hiding the blush on her cheeks as she mourns into the silent apartment. “Look, I was shy, okay?” she says.
“But not shy enough to be so bold over the internet, huh?” you mock her, feeling your roommate’s hand slap your upper arm in frustration.
“You should’ve seen him, Y/N! There was no way I was going to walk up to him after the whole day I spent at uni. I looked like a dead rat, that’s not how you pull men,” she mutters. “And he looked so perfect, so adorable, it’s… I keep thinking about him and his plump lips and his dark messy hair, and he was so tall and–”
“Okay, okay,” you cut her off, a hint of annoyance tinting your tone. “I’ll see him with my own two eyes in a bit anyway,” you comment, “if he’s really the cutest out of them, as you requested,” you snicker.
“He is! I swear. There is no way he isn’t going to appear on our doorstep in a few minutes, trust me.”
Little did the two of you know that you caused havoc on the other side of the town. It was a slow day in Sohn’s Pizza, leaving the two part-timers on duty scrolling through their phones, awaiting any new customers. It was the middle of the week, 2 hours before their closing, and so the sound of the new online order coming in surprised the two boys, having the owner’s son sit up from his place in the corner of the room and click through the system.
“Dad, it says one extra cheesy margherita and one pepperoni!” Eric yells out into the kitchen, followed by a loud acknowledging hum from the cook himself. Sunwoo looks up from under his chocolate bangs, pausing the game he’s been playing on his phone, licking his lips.
“Do you wanna go?” he asks, obviously too lazy to move from the pizzeria. See, the two part-timers had many responsibilities. One wasn’t just a delivery man or just the server. Because Eric’s father didn’t really trust anyone with his business, he relied only on the people closest to him– which caused this place to operate mostly as a family business. Sunwoo only got the job because he was Eric’s longest friend, and that made the Sohn family consider him as one of them.
That meant the pizzeria was almost always short on staff, though– which was a problem Eric complained to his dad about more often than not, being too busy with deliveries and also wiping down the tables, serving the customers and helping with the sides. The poor boy already learned that his dad won’t do anything about it from the sheer discomfort of having to go through the hiring process with anyone, though, and so after a while, he just stopped trying.
“I dunno,” he shrugs, eyes scanning the order. “It has a note, though.”
“What does it say?” Sunwoo asks, voice barely coated in any interest. Eric would argue that the boy doesn’t really care, but is just asking to seem mentally present.
“Send your cutest delivery boy, smiley face,” Eric hums, snickering to himself. Now, that’s a request he hasn’t gotten before– and the pizzeria has been open for quite some time now.
“Oh, so I’m going,” Sunwoo says, already standing up from his place in the camping chair behind the counter even though the order isn’t ready yet, full confidence flowing through the man’s veins.
“Didn’t you just ask me if I’m going?” Eric jokes, eyes darting towards his coworker.
“Yeah, but that was before I saw the note,” Sunwoo scoffs, “we obviously don’t want our customers to be unhappy, so I’m going to do my job, and as the cutest one, go deliver these pizzas.”
“Where did the confidence come from?” Eric clicks his tongue. “Well, that being said, I am going to deliver these.”
“So you think you’re cuter than me?” Sunwoo looks at his friend with a stern face, and to be honest, it’s kind of funny how serious the matter is for the boys. They would both blame the 8 hour shift getting to their brains, but in reality, it’s clear as day that they both want to win this argument.
“I’d say so,” Eric nods. “Didn’t you say you were more sexy than cute the other day?”
Sunwoo looks at his friend suspiciously. He doesn’t really remember the full context of the conversation, but he does remember stating the fact– and although he’d argue it’s true, he also doesn’t want to lose to Eric. Because look– the job is taking up the majority of the boys’ time, so looking for a girlfriend has gotten severely more difficult.
Why not take the opportunity at work? And besides, everything is more entertaining than sitting around and waiting for the place to close for the day.
“I did,” Sunwoo carefully admits, “but that was more to do with the general attractivity. I’d say those two go hand in hand, and therefore me, as the objectively more desirable one, should go deliver these.”
Eric blinks slowly at his friend, trying to process the self-absorbed words spilling out of the taller one’s mouth. “Are you calling me ugly right now?”
“No–”
“I’m pretty sure you just called me ugly.”
“I would never–”
“I’d say I’m the cuter one,” Eric snaps back, shrugging. “I have this aura around me–”
“Now you’re just being ridiculous. You know the note was obviously for me, so why don’t we stop this and you let me make this delivery? You can always do the next one–”
The argument is growing more heated. Who would’ve thought such a simple note would lead to two men trying to advertise themselves as the cuter one? The room is filled with testosterone, although the objective of the fight was somewhere completely else– the question was who the cuter one was, and if they had to be truthful, they had to go with facts, no?
Small things are cute. Eric is shorter than Sunwoo. Logically, it should be him– but he won’t say this comment out loud in fear of carrying the burden of admitting to his laughable height in front of his spiteful friend’s ears.
“How can you tell it was for you?” Eric scoffs. The arguments were starting to get ridiculous.
“It was the energy, I swear, the note is calling for me–”
“Boys, the pizzas are ready!” the voice of Eric’s dad calls from the kitchen, making both of them snap their heads towards the source and hurry. Never in a thousand years have either of them reacted to an order so quickly– not even in the highest of rushes– when they reach for the two boxes with grabby hands, like it was some sort of a prize.
It felt like everything was on the line. Eric Sohn prides himself in being a fast runner, but when he senses the taller boy breathing down his neck, he breaks all rules of safe workspace and also friendship as he outstretches his leg towards the right, tripping the boy– all to win the title of the cutest delivery boy.
Snatching the pizzas and also the car keys, Eric pays his coworker a victorious smile. Sunwoo glares at him from the ground, breathing heavily, anger roaring inside of his body. Eric finds this as his cue to hurry out before he’s attacked– while he’s a good runner, he was never quite good at combat– and so he jogs out of the pizzeria and unlocks the door to the Honda Civic parked outside, hopping in and typing in the address into the GPS on his phone.
Back over at your place, you try to pass the time by watching the TV. Netflix failed you with its poor selection of things to watch– mainly because you’ve already seen most of the true crime documentaries that you could find– so you just let yourself get pulled into the doom of teleshopping, your brain quickly getting used to the flashing images and over-exaggerated voices advertising the newest sumo slicer. You had a long day at university today– while also finally managing to get the internship with the company you dreamed of working for– and after all of the stress, your brain decided to simply turn off.
You’re only taken out from your trance as the doorbell rings, making you jump slightly at the loud noise. Dinner must be here– your stomach churning at the premise of a good pizza already (you have to give it to Izzy. She was right and you do deserve pizza tonight)– and so you stand up from the sofa in the living room, calling for your roommate.
“Izzy, the pizza’s here! Come get the door if you wanna see the guy!” you yell into the depths of your apartment.
You get no response. Did she fall asleep? “Izzy!” you call again, this time louder.
“Coming!” you hear her reply. You wait a few seconds, standing in the hall, when the doorbell rings again– after not opening the door for at least 2 minutes, you’re starting to get worried that the delivery man will just turn on his heel and take your pizzas away from you.
And you can’t let that happen– not when you were finally persuaded into eating them– all because your roommate is seemingly getting ready to open the door and see the newly found love of her life, probably putting on some cute clothes in her room.
“I’m just gonna get it!” you say, reaching for the door handle.
Opening the door, you are met with the sight of a delivery boy standing on the other side, two boxes in his hands, shifting weight from his heel to the tips of his toes. He sends you a soft smile before he raises his eyebrows at you so high they almost touch the red cap adorning his head, opening his mouth to speak.
“Eric?”
“Y/N?”
Both of you shock the other with the recognition. You haven’t seen Eric Sohn since elementary school– and while you must admit that the son of your parents’ friends grew up to be mildly attractive, you must say he hasn’t changed a bit. Now, this whole interaction grew even more embarrassing for you– you completely forgot about the note.
“Hello?” your roommate calls from behind you, walking up to the door in– you guessed it– her finest clothes. She always wears this outfit out, which makes you roll your eyes at her. She is trying too hard. And for whom? Eric Sohn, of all people?
“Izzy, here’s the cutest delivery boy you asked for,” you awkwardly say, trying to save your face. You won’t allow her to embarrass you like this– yes, you are completely content with throwing her under the bus in this situation. This is the boy you were forced to hang out with the whole entirety of elementary school, after all. You won’t let her humiliate you by making him believe it was you who found him so attractive.
Because let’s face it– he wasn’t. Well…
Maybe he was and you’re lying to yourself. But still– you won’t let him think you’d be so pathetic to shoot your shot by an online order. The boxes in his hands have Sohn’s pizza written all over them– maybe you should’ve paid more attention to the name of the pizzeria you were ordering from.
“Ah,” Izzy hums, and something in her composure shifts. Her shoulders drop and her smile dims– and that’s when you realize Eric is not the delivery boy she was hoping for. You have to laugh at her.
Izzy makes no effort to move or take the pizzas from the boy’s hands, and that’s when you take charge. Sighing at her, you move her out of the way before you send Eric an apologetic smile, freeing him off your order. “Thank you for the pizzas,” you say, watching as the delivery boy nods at you, offering you an awkward smile.
You push the boxes into Izzy’s hands, ordering her with your eyes to take them into the kitchen. As she slowly moves out of the hall and disappears into the apartment, you face the boy again, still standing at your doorstep. You scan him all over– from the top of his red cap that’s hiding his honey blonde locks to the black cargo pants covering his legs– before you nod to yourself, the awkward atmosphere making you tense under his gaze.
“Uhm…” you hum, not really knowing what else to say to diffuse the atmosphere. This is embarrassing. This is humiliating. Why did your dumb roommate do this?
Now she got the poor boy disappointed. Couldn’t Izzy at least act like he’s the one?
“Well, I’ll.. see you around, I guess…?” Eric says, nodding to himself. He scratches the back of his neck as he looks at you– one short glance up and down that doesn’t go unnoticed by you, making you instantly regret getting the door in your sweatpants and the pink socks with hearts and a single hole on the toe on them– before he takes a step back from the doorstep and starts walking away from your apartment.
“Yeah,” you clear your throat, mentally punching yourself with how pathetic you sound, “see you around. And… and thank you again! For the pizzas, I mean…” you hum. Now, you’re mentally kicking yourself. Scratch that, you’re throwing yourself down the stairs. Why are you so awkward? You’re only making it worse.
He flashes you a smile, not oblivious to the shame you feel. If you really think about it, the situation is kind of funny, isn’t it?
“Bye, Y/N,” he says, waving at you as he walks down the stairwell, sending you one last glance over his shoulder.
“Yeah, bye!”
Closing the door behind you, you try to take deep breaths to steady yourself. You will murder your roommate with your own two hands and use her blood as the sauce for your pizza. Slowly walking towards the kitchen, you see Izzy munching on the pepperoni slice, sending you a look full of innocence.
“Well, that didn’t work out,” she says, trying to make light of the situation, ignoring how embarrassing this situation was for both parties involved. Without a word, you sit down at the table, opening the box of your pizza of choice, taking a bite.
“Are you okay? You seem a bit–”
“Shut it.”
“How was it, bubs?” Izzy asks you once you get into the car while simultaneously reaching for the volume button on the radio, turning the music down so she can hear you talk.
“Terrible,” you mourn, sighing as you buckle your seatbelt and watch your roommate back out of the parking lot. She was nice enough to offer to drive you home after your first day of your new mandatory internship, and although you told her over and over how you didn’t need a ride and could just walk home after, you’re actually very grateful for her act of kindness now– for your feet hurt like a bitch and you’re so mentally tired you think you could get lost on your way home, had you not paid enough attention.
“That bad?” she hums, voice full of consideration. Izzy only pays you a short look full of undeniable worry before she gazes back at the road– thankfully, because she is not the best driver and you think her not paying full attention to where she’s going would significantly lower the chances of you getting home safely today– subtly allowing you to vent about the day you had.
A grunt escapes your mouth. “Yeah,” you agree, “it’s just– god. The place is full of morons, my boss is demanding a marketing project from me until the end of my internship, everyone keeps using me as their coffee delivery person because I’m new, and I forgot everyone’s names already…” you complain, furrowing your brows in concern. How are you going to survive going there weekly?
As a business student, you have to go through an internship in order to successfully graduate. Getting one was already hard enough, but the responsibilities that come with doing all the stuff you’re not even educated enough to do yet are only making the weight on your shoulders heavier and heavier to the point where you suddenly start to doubt if you’re even good enough for your major. Hell, you barely have any interest in it in the first place– hence why you lack the enthusiasm your boss would surely love to see from you.
“Can’t they just not make it easier for you?” she shakes her head in disapproval. “You’re a mere student, not the new hire,” Izzy grunts, sympathizing with you.
“Apparently not,” you roll your eyes. “I’m so tired, man…” you sigh, resting your head against the window, letting your eyes close for a bit. “Thanks for giving me a ride, Izz.”
“No worries,” she innocently replies. Almost too innocently, you think– but with the amount of hours you slept last night and the mental overload of new information you had today, you choose to not pay much attention to it. Maybe you’re just making it up…
If the drive was a bit longer, you’re sure you would’ve fallen asleep. The car comes to a halt in a few more minutes, though, and the sudden silence of the vehicle as the engine turns off and the radio goes silent has you opening your eyes, scanning your surroundings.
And you were right. Izzy was almost too nice in giving you a ride home. You should’ve known she always had different motives.
“Why are we here?” you ask, choosing not to face her so you don’t have to look at the dumb smile on her face again, for you think that if she dared to force innocence on herself right now, you’d seriously punch her.
“Oh,” she hums, “I thought we could get pizza for dinner.”
“We had pizza last week,” you deadpan, tone of voice only a bit hostile.
“That’s correct,” she agrees, “however, I am in the mood for some pizza right now. And we don’t really have any groceries at home, so I think this is the best alternative to end your bad day–”
“You’re not dragging me in there after embarrassing us so much last week, Isabelle,” you grunt, pulling out the full name to act more tough and get your point across. “I am never going there again. You simply can’t force me–”
“Oh come on! You’re ruining all fun.”
“That’s because I am not having fun right now,” you note, already too tired after the long day.
“Then let me cheer you up! I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal about it,” Izzy glares at you, sighing. “Besides, the last time I checked, you owe me pizza, and I would like to redeem that now.”
“Since when–”
“Don’t think I forgot that you didn’t pay me back last time,” she cuts you off, sending you a stern look.
If you were closer to home right now, you would’ve left the car and just walked back to your apartment, leaving your dear flatmate to get her pizza alone. You both know you’re not here for the pizza itself anyway– so why does she need you there? As an excuse? It’s already embarrassing enough for the both of you. Why won’t she just drop it?
But since the circumstances are given the way they are– you’re tired, hungry, frustrated and full of worry about your internship– you figure there is really no need to argue with your roommate right now. When she sets her mind on something, she is going to get it, no matter what. You know her well enough.
“Fine,” you sigh, getting out of the car and slamming the passenger door with as much force as you can humanly conjure in yourself after the long day, satisfaction flowing through your veins at the sound that’s loud enough to make your roommate jump in surprise.
You’re going to give her what she wants, but you’re not going to act happy about it. You’re just gonna get the pizza and leave. That’s the plan.
Walking up to the building of Sohn’s Pizza, you push the door open, ears instantly catching the low music coming from speakers situated in the corners of the room. You haven’t been here before, so you take your sweet time looking around– noticing the neat-looking interior, admiring the wooden furniture– before you walk towards the table in the corner of the middle-sized restaurant, sitting down. Izzy follows you like a lost puppy with its tail wagging because she got what she wanted before she sits down opposite of you, offering you a giant smile. She is like a kid under the Christmas tree with the toy she always desired securely in her grasp. Which is weird– the cute delivery boy hasn’t even shown up yet.
After scanning the menu for a bit– since you already know what you’re going to get– a server walks up to your table, a big, welcoming smile on her face. She is short even when wearing heels, hair pulled up into a ponytail, straight-across bangs sitting on her forehead. It’s been years since you last saw her, but the resemblance is undeniable– it’s Eric Sohn’s older sister.
“Hello! What can I get for you today, girls?” she asks as she takes out a notepad. Her eyes land on you for a bit before she gasps, even a bigger smile appearing on her cheeks, if that’s possible. “Oh my god, Y/N?”
“Yeah,” you nod, grinning. “It’s me.”
“How are you?” she asks, beaming. You and Lisa were never really close– since she was so much older than you back when you hung around the Sohn’s house, but she was always really kind to you. You remember her making snacks for you and Eric to eat in afternoons or taking you two out to get ice cream, your heart squeezing at the nostalgic memories.
“I’m good, what about you?” you ask, genuinely interested.
“I’m fine,” she nods. “Well, just rotting in here, if I’m being honest, but other than that, I’ve been good,” she laughs, making you mirror her actions.
“Well, it’s really pretty here, if that makes you feel any better,” you smile.
She shrugs at your compliment. “I did most of the decorating, so it should be,” she snickers before she looks back at you after scanning over the entire room. “What will you get today, then?”
“Just a margherita is fine,” you note, “could I possibly get extra cheese on that?”
“Anything for little Y/N,” she hums, making you roll your eyes at her teasing– yet the grin never leaves your features. “And for your friend?”
“I’ll get pepperoni,” she peeps. It’s unusual for your roommate to be so quiet in a conversation– you guess she was caught off guard at your sudden acquaintanceship with the staff in her new favorite restaurant.
“Coming right up!” Lisa smiles, walking away from your table.
After the server leaves, you are left with a few seconds of silence from your roommate. You raise your brows at her in question, mocking her change in demeanor, waiting for her to get back to her usual, chatty self. “What?”
“You know her?”
“Obviously,” you snicker. “Our families used to be close years ago,” you note, shrugging. “We lived in the same neighborhood.”
“Wow…” she hums. “So you know that guy who dropped our pizzas off last week as well?”
“I do,” you nod. “We are the same age, so our mums forced us to hang out often.”
“Interesting….” Izzy says, lost in thought. If you didn’t know better, you’d suspect she was scheming something up. Actually, you think you know her well enough– just give it a few more minutes.
The door opens again, making you two look around and watch the people coming into the restaurant. Instead of new customers, you are met with two men obviously wearing work uniforms– white shirts with a pizza logo in red on them– the shorter one with a cap on, the taller one with baggy jeans adorning his long legs. You recognise one of them instantly– and even despite the nature of the restaurant, his presence still shocks you and makes you feel alarmed.
You feel something come in contact with your shin as your roommate kicks your leg under the table. “That’s him, that’s him, that’s him–” Izzy chimes, whispering, making you furrow your brows at her in question. Yeah, of course that’s him. Eric’s dad owns the restaurant. Who the other guy by his side is, though, you don’t–
oh.
So that must be the cute delivery boy your roommate has been thirsting over for the last couple of weeks. She has a lot of determination in her, you’ll give her that. If it was you, you would’ve forgotten about a random mediocrily attractive server after a day or two. Not her, though. What a strange woman…
“Y/N!” you hear for the second time today. Your heart skips a beat at the tone this time, making you remember the events of last week, heat instantly creeping up your neck at the memory.
“Hi,” you peep, watching as the two men make a bee-line towards your table.
“Hello,” he greets. He wears a bright smile on his face– one that makes his cheeks look fuller, something in his eyes glimmering (you think it might just be the reflection of the lights). He is wearing a blue cap today, covering his honey locks– which leaves you wondering if he has a fucked haircut, or if he really just likes to wear hats that much– but other than that, his attire is the same as last time. “What’s up?” he asks.
Casual. Friendly. Like nothing happened– like this whole encounter isn’t totally embarrassing.
Or is it not? Are you just being overly-dramatic again? You really don’t know at this point.
Still, you act nonchalant. “Oh, not much,” you hum, “just got off my first day of internship, so we decided to get some pizza to comfort myself.”
“Didn’t go well?” Eric asks, a sympathetic look on his face. Somehow, his concern seems genuine.
“You could say that,” you note, shrugging.
“It will be better next time,” he says lightly, smiling at you all encouragingly. For the first time in the last couple of seconds, you pay attention to your roommate again– seeing her eyes glued to the taller boy. If this was a cartoon, there would be hearts drawn in her sockets and she would be drooling. Izzy seems to be totally enchanted with the delivery boy currently standing to Eric’s right, and you can’t stand the view any longer.
“Oh, this is Sunwoo, by the way,” Eric says, introducing his coworker.
“Nice to meet you,” you smile, shaking the boy’s hand. He sends you a boyish grin, greeting you back, before he moves towards your flatmate, holding her hand in his.
“Izzy,” she introduces herself, tone of voice a few octaves higher than usual. “We’re roommates.”
“I gathered as much,” Eric notes– almost a little awkwardly– making your body electrify with a full body cringe. Why can’t he just pretend last week didn’t happen?
“Yeah,” you hum, nodding and scratching the back of your neck. “She pretty much dragged me here, haha…” you vocalize the laughter as a word, mentally slapping yourself. Haha? What’s so funny? Y/N, you’re only making it worse.
“Well, it’s nice seeing you again,” Eric says. When your eyes meet, he averts his gaze, an awkward cough battling its way out of his throat. “Uhm… we better get back to work, or else my sister’s gonna kill me–”
“Oh, but it’s not busy!” Izzy suddenly utters out, making you snap your head towards her with shock, a look worthy of many words burning a hole into the middle of her forehead. What is she thinking? “Why don’t you sit with us for a while? It seems like you and Y/N have a lot to catch up on,” your roommate sweetly says, throwing the burden onto your shoulders again.
Why are you suddenly forced into the role of a wingman? You really didn’t sign up for this.
“Oh, I–”
“I could use a little break,” Sunwoo grins, not even waiting for his coworker to immediately deny the idea. You swear you can mentally hear your roommate's excited squealing on a telepathic frequency as the dark-haired boy takes a seat right next to her, sprawling his legs wide and resting his back against the chair, seemingly tired. “Come on, Eric. Lisa has a soft spot for me, she won’t eat our heads off.”
Eric meets your gaze. You hope your brains match at frequencies with the boy as well as you send him mental apologies, the atmosphere once again getting too awkward for you to handle. He seems to be the victim of his friend’s terrorizing strategies as much as you are, though, so you think there is silent understandment hanging in the air over the two of you as he reluctantly sits on the chair next to you.
You’re starting to think Izzy has a death wish. You’re also starting to be fairly certain that you will be the one to fulfill it.
The passage of time is weird. It’s a strange construct to you, finding yourself dwelling on it at times when it’s the least suitable to– especially when you have things to do and a workload to get through. See, it’s incredibly bizarre to you how when you’re doing nothing, time is passing by quickly without you even noticing it: a few episodes of your favorite TV show go by and you’re suddenly well into the evening. When you’re working on assignments, though, it seems like time has stopped.
You promised yourself you’re going to stay in the library and work on the project you were assigned in your internship until at least 6PM. You arrived at 3 o’clock– three hours should be easy, right? Not that much time.
Wrong. Because you swear you’ve been aimlessly searching around the internet and writing things down for at least 10 years now, and it’s only been an hour and you still have two more to go. Time is weird like that. It’s fascinating– at least when you hypnotize the numbers in the right corner of your screen, sucked into the doom of your laptop. Maybe you should’ve taken Physics instead. You’d love to learn about this.
(The fact that this has nothing to do with Physics and everything to do with your focus and attention is a completely invalid argument to you at this moment, so you don’t even let yourself think about it.)
Something finally pulls you out of the hyper focused state that you put yourself in while staring at the time on your screen (as if to mentally push the clock to go faster), and that is a figure moving right opposite of you, resting their hand on the back of a chair.
“Hi,” you hear, making you snap your head up and face the intruder, “can I sit here?”
“Hi…?” you mumble, watching the boy in front of you not wait for your answer as he pulls the chair back and settles his body onto it. He empties his pockets in the true manly fashion– putting his wallet, his phone and his keys onto the wooden table– all while letting you absorb his existence for a bit before you have to react to it some more.
You spent years not seeing Eric Sohn. Now, you bump into him at least every other week. Strange.
He is wearing a simple white hoodie, his hair now not covered by a cap. You glance over the honey blonde locks, noting to yourself that he does not have a messed up trim, which means he just must like hats a lot. You feel like you should probably say something– start up a conversation– but the shock of seeing him is still settled deep in your bones, stopping you from every attempt.
Looking around the library, you note that it’s half-empty– meaning that Eric could’ve chosen any seat, any other seat in the whole entire place– yet he chose to sit right opposite of you at one of the long tables in the middle of the room. Nodding to yourself as you absorb the information, you open your mouth to say something– anything– before the boy beats you to it, acting in his true, nonchalant casualty.
“What are you working on?” he asks. “I mean… you seemed quite miserable when I arrived, so I assumed it was for the best to take you out of the frozen state before you go crazy,” he jokes, having you close your mouth and awkwardly smile at him.
“Yeah,” you hum, shrugging. “I was mainly just trying to force the time to go quicker with the sheer power of my gaze, but I think it doesn’t work like that…”
“You set up a timer for yourself?” he asks, laughing.
“Kinda,” you nod. “I knew I had to hold myself accountable and do work, or else I’m going to leave things until the last minute and hate myself even more for not doing anything sooner, so I told myself I’ll work on my assignments until 6, but it’s… easier said than done.”
Eric nods at you, acknowledging your struggle. He takes out his own laptop and presses the power button. As he waits for it to turn on, he looks back at you, his gaze making you nervous.
It’s not that you don’t like Eric– not at all, you have your fair share of fond memories with the boy when you were little– it’s just that you haven’t seen him in ages, haven’t properly talked to him since you were kids. You know nothing about the man he is right now– aside from the fact that his father owns a pizza place now. You don’t even know what he majors in. Hell, you didn’t even know he went to the same university as you up to this point– which makes everything just a little bit too awkward for you.
How to navigate the conversation? What to talk about? Why does he not just… ignore you? It’s not like the two of you were that close in the first place.
“What do you major in?” he asks. You wonder if it’s sheer politeness, or if he really just wants to know.
“Business,” you say, tone of voice hinting that you’re not really satisfied with your own answer. “I’m actually supposed to be working on a project for my mandatory internship right now.”
“Damn… what is it?” he asks.
Scratching the back of your neck, you lick your lips before answering. “It’s like… I have to make a pitch about a new product for them to sell. I work in the sales section for Trust, the insurance company, so I have to do a lot of… market research… and then also marketing… it’s… kind of a lot, actually…” you nervously laugh, trying to diffuse the fact that you’re genuinely scared of the very project you were assigned.
Eric stares at you with interest, a look of acknowledgement settling onto his face. “Wow. That sounds hard.”
“I mean, I don’t know…” you shrug. “Maybe I’m just too stupid for this–”
“No you’re not,” the boy instantly cuts you off, shaking your head. “I’d say they just have high demands from you.”
His words do a bit to soothe you. You avoid asking your classmates about their internships in fear of being the only one that’s finding things hard and being overly-dramatic. Talking to someone who doesn’t really have the same experience as you makes things a bit easier– you can complain and they won’t judge, because there’s no way they know how it feels. Eric won’t judge you for finding your business internship hard, because he doesn’t know what it takes– at least not on his own skin. But if you’d complain to your classmate Yeji, for example, she might find it weird– what if your tasks are the easiest thing to do in her eyes?
“Thanks,” you hum. “What do you major in, though?” you ask him, somehow committing to keeping the conversation going for just a little more time.
“Communications,” he laughs. “I just… write a lot of papers, I guess.”
“Ah,” you nod in acknowledgement.
You feel like you should add something. Maybe you should comment, sympathize, ask more questions, but in the moment, no fitting words reach your mind. After a heartbeat of silence, Eric’s eyes finally leave your figure to focus on his laptop, and the only thing resonating through your brain is the fact that the last two times you met him, it was painfully awkward and maybe a little strange– which leads you to questioning the fact that he still chose to approach you today.
“Look, Eric, we… you don’t have to act like we’re friends now,” you say, refusing to meet his gaze. Somehow, your blank laptop screen is much more interesting. “And I’m sorry about last week,” you note, tone of voice lighthearted– trying to mask how much you actually think about the encounters and how they make you wish they never even happened. Somehow, you worry about how you’re perceived by him. “My roommate just kind of likes your coworker– Sunwoo–” you call him by his name, “so she has been doing all of this to get his attention, and it’s…”
“It’s okay,” Eric laughs, making you glance up from the blank document and finally meet his eyes. There is no stern look on his face, no signs of disappointment or disgust on his features. It helps you calm down a bit. “I’m used to girls being all over Sunwoo, really,” he says, shrugging.
“Yeah…” you sigh. “Sorry for making it all awkward, and stuff. As I said, you don’t have to feel obliged to–”
“I don’t, though,” he hums. The sentiment silences you. You offer him nothing but a nod, suddenly at a loss for words. “Look, we used to be close when we were kids,” he shrugs, “so don’t even worry about it.”
You’re not really sure what his words are meant to imply. Does he mean that you’re friends now again? Does he mean he doesn’t find this whole thing absolutely awkward? Are you supposed to hang out more often now? Do you get his number?
After trying to clarify everything, you’re left even more confused.
If there’s one thing about Eric Sohn that you remember from your childhood, it’s the fact that he’s friendly. And also… pretty fucking competetive. “It’s almost 4:30. Whoever gives up on their assignment first pays for coffee later, yeah?” he challenges you, looking at you with mischief glimmering in his dark orbs.
You guess both of these qualities stayed with him until adulthood, and although you were awkward with him just a few minutes ago, you don’t really have it in you to overthink the interaction any longer.
“Deal,” you nod.
As if this was all the motivation you needed, you get back to working.
“Jokes on you, drinking is not a forfeit for me,” Jake, the underclassmen you see around the campus sometimes says after a round of spin the bottle in which he refuses to make out with the person to his right (that was friend Sunghoon from middle school, just for the record), “I actually enjoy it. So–”
“You should stop drinking, dude…” the said friend nudges him to his shoulder, looking at the boy with a concerned look in his eye. It’s no secret that both of them are light drinkers, but one of them is clearly handling his alcohol worse– and it’s the shorter one of the two.
“Why? You wanna make out with me?”
“I’d rather not carry you home again, that’s all–”
“That sounds a bit sus, Hoon–” Jake snickers before he downs the shot of whatever alcohol is passed to him, “y’know, if you wanted to kiss me, you could’ve just said so…” he slurs, making Sunghoon sigh, closing his eyes for a second to collect himself in time before the frustration in him turns into anger and he swings at his friend.
You can’t help but laugh at the commotion. You don’t really go out to party much– since you and Izzy are introverted, you don’t really search for these types of gatherings– but you figured that doing something other than watching the TV on a Friday evening would be nice. Especially when you were invited by the guy you met in your internship.
It felt rude to deny an invitation to a party by Park Jihoon, given the fact that you wanted to make friends and connections during your stay with the company. He is an intern just like you– maybe a bit more energetic and extroverted, that’s all. Which you welcome with open arms, just for the record. It’s been a while since an extrovert extroverted the way they are supposed to and adopted you– it’s always a pleasant experience.
You’re also not really the one to participate in a game of spin the bottle. You find such games embarrassing and nerve-wrecking. They induce anxiety in you from what you have to do, and it’s not the good kind. The adrenaline in your veins is enough for you to call it quits, but then again, you’re always good at falling for peer pressure and your roommate’s battling eyelashes are ones you don’t find yourself resisting too often.
There’s alcohol running through your system, warming you up. Wearing a cropped top and shorts surprisingly didn’t really help you to cool down as you soothe yourself with alcohol after another week of stressing yourself over your damn internship project (which Jihoon offered to help with, but you’re too much of an individualist to let anyone partake in even just the smallest task of your assignment) and after careful consideration, you realize you haven’t had that much to eat before turning up to the party.
Which is always a mistake. Drinking on an empty stomach is one of the biggest flaws you bring with yourself to social gatherings.
“Maybe I should eat,” you suddenly comment, perking up the attention of Jihoon to your right. He looks at you with considerate eyes and nods.
“There should be pizza coming soon, actually.”
“Really?” you gasp, excitement suddenly flowing through your bones. It’s been at least a month since you last had pizza, and you’re slowly starting to crave it. Did Izzy give up on that cute delivery boy? Maybe you should remind her… the pizza was worth it, you must admit.
“Yeah–”
And as if you wished it into existence, the sound of the doorbell suddenly brings you out of the conversation and has people closest to the door standing up to get it.
It seems like randomly running up to Eric Sohn is your newest hobby. It’s strange how life works– you haven’t seen him in ages, and suddenly, he finds his way to randomly walk back into the plotline of your life casually, as if it was fate. It’s kind of laughable, really.
Because there he is– standing behind the door with boxes of pizza in his hands, accompanied by his friend Sunwoo holding up even more. The amount could feed a whole village, you think, and you’re suddenly glad you aren’t the one paying for the food, since you’re sure it would add up to a big check. The crowd hollers at the two boys at the door, and it takes you a few seconds to realize it’s not because of the feast they just brought into the building.
“Eric! Sunwoo! Come in, you two!” Jihoon suddenly calls from next to you, waving the two over with a motion of his hand. This has the shorter boy look into the spacious living room, eyes scanning the surroundings. His eyes fix on you for a second, offering you a smile, before they move back to the host.
“Can’t, we’re on the clock, actually,” Eric snickers awkwardly, shrugging.
“Oh come on!” Haechan, the boy that was introduced to you today as Jihoon’s best friend, joins. It seems like everyone around knows exactly who Eric Sohn is, and it leaves you wondering just how you managed to unawarely avoid him for all those years. “Just for a bit!”
“Yeah,” Jihoon adds. “Just stay for like 10 minutes, or something. Actually,” the tipsy boy has a million-dollar idea, “I’m not paying y’all until you stay for a bit. How about that?”
“Great, dude,” Sunwoo laughs, shaking his head in disbelief at his friend’s tactics. “Let’s go in, then.”
The two get ridded of the pizzas they brought, walking up into the room. You feel Izzy poking your leg with her pointer finger repeatedly, and when you look at her, she is staring at you with eyes that remind you of someone slowly slipping into a manic state. You think it’s the effect of Kim Sunwoo entering the room with a smirk on his face, but you’re not really sure at this point.
“What are we playing?” Sunwoo asks the obvious as he sits down, dragging his friend with him. Their spot is currently straight across from you. After more careful examination, you realize Eric’s eyes are glued on your figure, making you smile at him and wave silently before he moves to scan your new friend sitting close to your right.
The last time you’ve seen Eric was that day at the library. That was almost 2 weeks ago now, and although you went for a coffee after you declared that you ‘simply can’t do it anymore’ and ‘would rather die than to work on this project any longer’, he insisted on paying for both of your drinks instead of making you do it, as was previously agreed on. You exchanged numbers after chatting and walking around for a bit, and although you waited for him to text you the same week, he never did, and you never tried to make conversation either.
Somehow, you simply didn’t know what to say. Then again– it’s not like the two of you were friends in the first place.
The game proceeds like before even with the new members added. Some of the people hanging out around the living room move to eat the pizzas, but if you’re being completely honest, the idea of eating was long forgotten to you the moment Eric and Sunwoo walked through the front door. Admittedly, maybe you did have a considerate amount to drink this evening, because everything is starting to turn into a bit of a blur from this moment. You watch the game absent-mindedly, not really taking much in, as your eyes sometimes subconsciously move to Eric sitting leisurely on the sofa opposite of you.
After a round where Jihoon is asked to suck on Haechan’s toe and Yizhuo is told to confess the last person she hooked up with (which was a guy to whose name everyone gasped, but left you clueless, since you didn’t really know who it was), your biggest fears are proven to be reality as the bottle lands on you. Heartbeat instantly picking up at speed, making you hear your own blood in your ears, you look up from the cursed item and wait to hear your ordeal.
Who would’ve thought playing spin the bottle would feel like a near-death experience?
“Truth or dare?” Yizhuo asks.
After a second of consideration, you blurt out: “Dare.”
Big mistake. At least you can lie when you pick the truth, goddamn it. What was drunk you even thinking…?
“Okay,” she nods, contemplating for a bit. As the gears in her head start working and the idea comes into her brain, a smug smirk appears on her face, hinting that this whole evening was a bad, bad idea. “I dare you to sit in the lap of the hottest guy here for three rounds.”
The crowd goes crazy.
Girls gasp, guys whistle, and your brain– it completely shuts off. Alcohol should logically make you feel more courageous and daring, no? That’s what they all say.
You’re the one to prove the sentiment wrong as you gulp and contemplate your next decision. Given the fact that you’re one shot away from throwing up, you decide to not drink to protect yourself– making sure you save your image and don’t embarrass yourself by showing the contents of your stomach to everyone on Park Jihoon’s beige rug.
Scanning the circle, you watch the men situated right in front of you in the living room. It resembles window shopping a bit, except you’re feeling really fucking miserable while doing it. You know it’s all fun and games and that if you take the situation with enough nonchalance, everything will turn out fine– hell, some might not even remember this moment in the morning, so it’s really not that big of a deal– but the more you contemplate the object of your dare, the more nervous you’re starting to feel.
Kim Sunwoo is a clear no go. You and Jihoon are close enough where it wouldn’t feel awkward, but somehow, you know you would be lying to yourself if you picked him. Your eyes smoothly drift past Haechan, Jake and Sunghoon, all the way past Renjun and Jeno to Eric sitting right across from you, eyeing you with interest in his dark orbs.
The circle is starting to rush you. Jihoon nudges your side, telling you to ‘just pick one,’, making you briefly glance at him with a stern look in your eyes. After your gaze lands back on Eric– whose eyebrows slightly furrow when he notices you paying attention to your new friend– you come to a downing realization of the fact that somehow, your eyes keep landing on the short boy, not really wanting to look away.
It’s alright. It’s nothing. Eric Sohn is conventionally attractive– you’re sure it’s not that big of a deal.
Standing up from your spot, hearing the crowd pick up the excitement, you walk over to the other side of the circle– while trying not to trip over your own foot and fall over in the process. Eric looks up at you with big eyes glimmering, expecting your final answer, making your palms sweat and voice a little shaky as you awkwardly let out.
“Do you mind…?”
The question is laughable, really. You audibly hear Yeji and Yizhuo squeal in excitement at your action, while Haechan hollers out a laugh from the back. Trying to ignore the reactions, faking nonchalance, you watch as Eric shifts slightly in his spot and moves his hands to his sides, as if to make some space for you, before he shrugs.
“Go ahead.”
Nodding to yourself, you scratch the back of your neck before you turn your back to him and slowly settle yourself onto his lap.
And here you thought the delivery boy incident could simply not be beaten on the scale of awkward and embarrassing moments with Eric Sohn.
It’s now your turn to spin the bottle, you realize– which you try to focus on instead of the fact that you are currently sitting in the lap of the guy you grew up with– making you bend to the ground and proceed with the game. Only three rounds and you can move back to your initial spot, you think. You just have to survive three rounds of this stupid game before you’re free.
Watching the empty wine bottle spin in circles before it stops, your eyes move to the side with the opening, trying to see who it landed on. When you look up, your roommate is staring back at you with a suspicious look on her face, not even waiting for you to ask the question to determine her fate. “Dare,” she spits out.
Her eyes bear into you with such intensity you think she’s trying to tell you something, but right as you try to match her brain frequency and decipher what exactly she wants from you right in this moment, you feel Eric’s hands land lightly onto your sides.
They don’t move, nor do they put any pressure into your skin. They just lay there, fingers on the skin of your bare midriff, sending an electric shock into your brain that completely shuts off your telepathic communication with Izzy, making you blurt out the first thing that comes to your mind.
“Uh… prank call your latest hook up and tell him you want to get together with him,” you say.
She immediately throws darts into your skull, making you regret your decision.
What? Is it not spicy enough? Judging from the reactions of the rest of the players, you’d say you did a good job– which makes you believe she just didn’t want to expose hooking up with Jaemin in front of everyone.
Nonetheless, she moves on with the dare. You don’t really pay much attention to it as a wave of sickness comes over you. You’re genuinely left seeing things twice, which leads you to close your eyes and rest your head in your hands for a second before a low voice lands into your ear.
“How drunk are you on a scale of 1 to 10?” Eric asks.
“Like… 8, I think?” you snicker. “I’m okay, I just need to–”
Before you get a chance to finish your sentence or even barely think of what would help you in this moment, you feel Eric’s hands on your sides lightly tug your body towards him, leaving you to fully glue your figure onto his. Your back meets his front, sprawling out onto the sofa, leaving you to settle your head onto his shoulder.
You can’t say your stomach feels less crazy at the moment, but you also can’t say this isn’t strangely nice. “Better?” he asks.
You think you lost your voice for a second, so you only offer him a nod.
His next actions leave you wondering if he’s always been this touchy and affectionate. While one of his arms sneaks around your waist and holds you to him, his other palm leaves to take its new place on your thigh. The rational side of your brain is telling you that this is just the most comfortable place to let your arms rest when you have someone sitting in your lap, but it’s still enough to have heat rising up your neck, slowly warming up your face.
A few seconds pass before Eric absent-mindedly starts to draw circles onto your quad, your brain hyper-focused onto the feeling of his forearm on your bare midriff. When he laughs at the way Izzy’s prank call is going– to which he earns a warning look from your roommate to keep quiet and not break the facade– you feel his body vibrating under you, making you realize that you’re the only one out of the two that is so affected by this simple gesture.
It leaves you feeling silly. It must be the alcohol, surely– but god,
Eric Sohn surely has hands that make hell seem cold.
You’re woken up in the morning to the sound of your roommate screaming, yelling at you. Not only do you already have a massive headache from the hangover you surely accidentally threw yourself in, now you also feel like there is someone cutting parts of your brain off with a knife. (Which sounds contradicting, because you do know the brain can’t be in pain. Why does it feel like that, then?)
“You had the perfect opportunity to think of something that could make me and Sunwoo closer. You could’ve said anything! But no, you chose to–”
“Why are you screaming?” you ask, voice hoarse and quiet, your throat scratchy as you utter the few words.
“–lay in Eric’s lap like a princess and do nothing–” she continues, making you wince. It’s not that you don’t remember the moment, no– you do. The memory is almost painfully crystal clear in your brain, you just didn’t really mean to think of it the first thing in the morning.
“Isabelle,” you grit your teeth and put your pillow over your eyes to shield them from the sunlight that is only making your headache worse, “I’m gonna need you to shut. the. fuck. up–”
“You’re a terrible, terrible wingwoman, I’ll tell you that,” she accuses you.
Suddenly, the cause for her telling looks and annoyed huffs throughout the last night make total sense. Hell, you’re smarter than this– you shouldn’t need explaining for such a simple task. It was your turn to dare your best friend to do something, and the object of her desire was right there. You will blame the shortcoming on your alcohol-infused brain– in Izzy’s eyes, though, it doesn’t really change the narrative.
“I’m sorry,” you mourn, “I wasn’t thinking properly.”
“Yeah, I could see that,” she grunts, tugging the pillow off your face. “At this rate, me and Sunwoo are never gonna be a thing, and I hope you know it’s completely your fault.”
“How could it be my fault?” you grunt, suddenly frustrated with your roommate. She is the one that isn’t sending him obvious enough hints, and it’s your fault he isn’t catching on? Why are you suddenly blamed for something that is completely out of your control? This is getting a bit ridiculous.
Wanting to sit up on your bed and fight against your roommate, but failing to do so before she escapes your room– sensing that you would throw the pillow onto her as soon as you’d get the chance– you sigh and reach for your phone sitting on your bedside table. There is a notification shining at the top of your screen, and when you unlock your phone and absent-mindedly click on the message, you’re taken off guard by the view in front of you.
Eric Sohn [1:21 AM]: hi, just checking in to see if you got home okay?
You read the message over once, then twice, before you decide to reply. Clearing your throat, as if you were going to record a voice message, you think of the most appropriate answer.
If you’re being honest, you don’t really remember much about how you got home last night– all you know is that after three rounds of spin the bottle, you reluctantly climbed off Eric’s lap, to which him and Sunwoo escaped the party and trailed back to work with excuses of Eric’s sister killing them if they didn’t show up soon. You’re fairly certain that you and Izzy just took a cab home, but since you notice you’re still wearing yesterday’s clothes, you assume you weren’t really with yourself at that moment– which is also the sole reason for you not replying to Eric’s message when you first got it.
You [11:10]: hello!! yes we did :)
You [11:10]: sorry for replying so late, but as you could see last night i wasnt rlly checking my phone haha..
Surely this is good enough to play it off. Not suspicious at all! Eric Sohn will never know you were drunk off your face and hardly made it through the front door of your apartment. (Except he does know, and you’re also painfully aware.)
And all of this for what..? A bad week at your internship? You’re one of the weak ones, for sure.
Switching apps and deciding to scroll through Instagram for a bit before you get up and face the day– which includes making lunch, because you didn’t have any leftovers left in the fridge– your phone buzzes in your hands, showing you a new message.
Eric Sohn [11:15]: good to hear :)
Eric Sohn [11:15]: are u feeling well?
God. You feel like throwing up– surely the cause of the alcohol still in your system.
Well, it’s not like he didn’t know before. And you’re a grown woman! There’s no shame in a bit of a hangover. You’re fairly certain he gets them all the time– you two are in university, after all.
Faking nonchalance, once again, you text back.
You [11:16]: yeah, just a massive headache that’s all ://
You [11:16]: im sure lunch will fix it lol
Eric Sohn [11:16]: speaking of… do u wanna get lunch w me? im sure eating out is a better option for u rn haha
Something inside of you panics at the message. You don’t know what it is, but somehow, you always feel a bit awkward with Eric at first. Maybe it’s the fact that you always remember how you grew up together and then vanished out of each other’s lives– without each other even noticing– or maybe it’s the fact that you always feel like you only embarrass yourself in front of him.
He seems to be casual about things, though. He doesn’t make fun of you for anything– rather, he takes those moments as opportunities to get closer to you and maybe even build back the friendship you were forced into in childhood, but chose in your adulthood.
There is no reason to overthink his words or actions. It’s Eric, after all.
Eric Sohn [11:17]: me and sunwoo that is, btw. u can bring your roommate if she’s down!:D
Oh.
Well, at least you have a way to fix things with your butthurt friend. Clearing your throat before calling into the depths of the apartment– because Izzy left your door open, seemingly hinting that it’s time for you to get up and cook lunch– you slowly start getting out of bed.
“Izzy, do you wanna get lunch with Sunwoo, Eric and I?” you ask, a grin slowly appearing on your face. She rewards you with a few seconds of silence– as if trying to tease you– before she gives you the obvious answer.
“Yeah.”
“Thought so,” you chuckle, sending Eric back a text agreeing to his invitation.
After a few minutes spent showering and making yourself look presentable, you walk out of the building with your roommate by your side (that’s currently smelling a bit like she just poured the whole perfume bottle over her), nearing the building you decided to meet in over text messages. It’s a small Korean place just down the street, making you wonder if it’s the boy’s favorite, or if he just chose something that was nearby for you out of convenience.
When you open the door and walk into the place, you’re immediately hugged by the smell of delicious food making your stomach churn in hunger and the low music playing in the background. It doesn’t take you long to notice the two boys already sitting at one of the tables, chatting to each other. Sunwoo is very passionate about something, waving his arms around, but the moment you two arrive at the table, their conversation dies down a bit, replaced by warm greetings.
“Wow, you look terrible,” Sunwoo lets out when his eyes meet your figure. The comment makes you shrink in yourself– truth be told, you know you don’t look your best right now, given the fact that your headache was still very much present and you didn’t put any makeup on– but still, it isn’t the best experience to hear someone say it out loud.
“Thanks,” you nod, watching as your roommate eagerly takes a seat next to Sunwoo, her body in respectful, yet close proximity to his, “I feel like it too.”
“Auch–” the said boy lets out, glaring at Eric sitting opposite of him. You’re not really sure what happened, but you don’t pay it much mind as you slowly settle yourself in the last spot possible– next to Eric in the little booth.
“Did you order already?” Izzy asks, clearly more joy and cheerfulness in her body than in yours. You don’t really know how or why she’s not currently dying of a hangover like you are, but something is telling you that maybe, just maybe, you were the only one that took the drinking too far last night. (You and Sim Jake, that is. The poor boy had to run to puke only a few minutes after the game of spin the bottle ended, and it was not a fun sight.)
“No,” Eric shakes his head, “we were waiting for you to get here. Wanna check the menu? We already skimmed through it.”
You nod at his preposition, taking the laminated paper into your hand. You’re always indecisive when it comes to ordering food– never really knowing what to get, because everything is either foreign to you or too appealing, nothing in between, leaving you on the fence about what you’d like to eat at the given moment– and the lengthy list of options in this place isn’t really helping you.
A sigh escapes your throat at the sight. Truth be told, you’re not even gonna read the whole thing– so you opt to look at Eric to your right with a begging expression on your face.
“Do you know what you’re getting?” you ask, watching him nod.
“Ramen.”
“Is it good?” you inquire, having the boy nod at you casually, replying to your question.
“Pretty good, yeah,” he answers. “Also, I’d argue that it’s the best for a hangover.”
“Perfect. I’ll have that, then,” you note, putting the menu back to its place on the other side of the table, not really wanting to think about it any longer.
When the waiter comes and asks for your order, you notice Eric taking charge and saying your choice as well, ridding you of the burden. Grateful for his initiative, you turn to smile at him in return, before you choose to rest your head in your hands on the table, still not relaxed enough after the long night you had.
There’s a soothing hand rubbing your back in just a few seconds, pressing comforting circles into the middle of your torso. You think you can’t really blame Sunwoo for making fun of you today– you surely must look like absolute shit.
“Did you two go to the same party?” Sunwoo chuckles, pointing out the obvious difference in your composures. “How come do you not look dead?” he addresses the question to Izzy, curious.
“I can handle my alcohol well,” she hums.
“That’s a lie,” you grunt, eyes still glued to the wooden table, “she just didn’t drink much last night.”
“I think that’s a part of handling my alcohol well–”
“No it’s not,” you squint at her, shaking your head. “Abstinence is not ‘handling alcohol’, you moron.”
“Okay, well, I’m just saying that’s the reason why you look like you have some sort of disease, while I look fresh and beautiful,” she sings in half-seriousness, half-irony, going as far as posing like a flower, offering the whole table her bright smile.
“I mean, you always do,” a low voice echoes around the restaurant, making you snap your head up to gaze at the boy opposite of you that is now refusing to meet anyone’s eye. Eric’s hand freezes on your back, stilling, as a chuckle leaves his throat at his friend’s comment.
Interesting. Sunwoo’s usually cocky demeanor changes as he blushes, scratching the back of his neck. The air gets a little tense as you allow yourself to look your roommate in the eye, a hint of surprise playing with her face. She looks taken aback, but pleased with herself– and you have to give her that. Her magic is finally working.
“So, anyways…” Eric breaks the awkward silence, arm slipping off your back and resting on the table. The absence of the soothing circles on your clothed skin makes you miss it only a little bit, but you won’t really dwell on that any longer or mention it out loud.
The food comes just in time to diffuse the weird atmosphere, making all of you thank the waiter for the meal and get to eating. You can’t say ramen is your favorite meal on the planet, but you must admit that the way they prepared it here really gets your taste buds on Cloud 9. You’re enjoying every bit of it, salvaging the salty taste and chewing on the noodles, looking like a person that’s been starved for five days with the way you’re just inhaling the food like it’s oxygen.
“Feels nice to finally eat somewhere else than at work,” Sunwoo grunts in pleasure, throwing his head back and letting his eyes close, fully enjoying the moment.
Eric nods in agreement, having you furrow your brows at them. “You must work a lot.”
“Yeah,” the boy next to you nods, “I do it to help my dad, but the more I work, the more miserable and absolutely boring it gets.”
“I would imagine it to be kind of fun, I dunno,” you hum sheepishly, noticing the boys eyeing you with a deadpan expression on their faces.
“I mean, everything’s better than a corporate job, in my opinion,” Eric throws a jab at you, a smirk playing with his lips. He’s not wrong.
“Don’t even remind me…”
“Still no progress on that thing?” he asks, genuine interest lacing his tone.
Shaking your head, you sigh. “I mean, I did a bit of market research, but nothing to show my boss, that’s for sure. It’s just been rotting my brain for weeks and I feel like I’m frozen with stress that I can’t actually pick it up, y’know?”
Eric nods in acknowledgement, swallowing the last bits of food in his mouth. “Maybe you just need to think about it less.”
“Yeah,” Izzy joins, “take off some steam. Maybe you just need a little break from it.”
“But if I take a break from it, I might never actually start it–”
“That’s ridiculous,” she cuts you off. “You know you work well under pressure.” You sigh at her comment, shaking your head in disapproval. Procrastination isn’t really your favorite thing under the sun, but it’s something you can’t really control during most projects you pick up. “What do we say we all hang out together when you’re free? To chill, do something fun, get your heads off work…?”
You look around the table with questioning eyes. You’re not really sure if you crawled across the bridge to the friendship side yet, or if Izzy’s efforts are what is going to do just that. Not really knowing where you stand with the boys– because they did invite you to lunch, but you also hadn’t spoken in a long time before that– you don’t push them for an answer. You’re going to go along with whatever they choose.
“I’m down,” Sunwoo nods, “I bet that if we tell Lisa in advance, she can do the deliveries. There’s a new Deadpool movie coming out next week, wanna go see that?”
You’re not really a fan of Marvel movies nor have you seen the first two parts of the series. The same could be said about Izzy, but she grasps at the invitation like a thirsty woman seeing water after 20 days spent on a desert, nodding eagerly at Sunwoo. It’s almost laughable how easily she agrees to everything the boy has to say.
You guess you can’t really blame her, though– he is giving her subtle signs of reciprocation with today’s compliment, isn’t he?
You think about it for a while. Looking to your right, facing Eric, you lock eyes with him, as he was already gazing at you and expecting your answer. The boy shrugs at the eye contact, seemingly down to the offer.
You guess seeing a movie with them isn’t such a bad idea, right?
“Yeah, okay,” you say, “what day is that?”
Foolish. That’s what you are.
Foolish for thinking you could get everything done in time and actually enjoy your time with your friends. Foolish for thinking you could have a day off when you don’t have to think of all the responsibilities that adult life is throwing at you– because as you realize exactly one day before you’re supposed to see the new Deadpool movie in the cinema with Izzy, Sunwoo and Eric, after a discussion with your boss about how he needs some spreadsheets done before the next day, you realize don’t have enough time in your schedule for both.
Frustration, anger and also a bit of sadness fills your bones as you announce to your friends– in person to Izzy and over a text to Eric– that you probably won’t make it. The boy tells you that if you do end up being able to come after all, you should, which makes you only feel worse at the realization that you are now missing out on what could’ve been a chill afternoon.
The frustration only grows in you when you decide to do your work in the library the next day, not even walking back to your apartment after class– because you realize you not only don’t enjoy any minute of your internship, but you also feel like a failure after not being able to finish any simple task with no bigger issues.
After sending one last message to your friends about how you’re stuck in the library for the time being, you try to drown yourself in work– while simultaneously trying to ignore the clock in the corner of your screen telling you the exact minutes you’ve spent missing out on the plans.
You don’t really know how much time passes before a hand lands on your shoulder, making you jump violently in your seat. Your heart starts beating a thousand miles an hour as you turn your head to make out who is the cause of your heart attack, preparing yourself for the screaming match you’re very well mentally ready for.
Up until… you notice who’s standing behind you, offering you a gentle smile.
“Sorry. Did I scare you?” he asks, laughing softly at your shaken composure.
“I almost died, dude!” you scold him, shaking your head at the boy. Something inside of you lights up at the idea of a distraction from your workload, your heart squeezing on itself when you scan your visitor over– from the bottom of his feet cladded in simple Nike pandas to the top of his head covered not only by a beanie, but also the hood of his gray sweater.
“Sorry,” he once again apologizes, eyes glimmering in amusement.
“What are you even doing here?” you ask, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion and checking the time on your laptop. “The movie starts in a few minutes!”
Out of all the people on the whole entire planet, Eric Sohn is the last person you’d expect to appear in the library exactly at this moment. The sheer presence of him right in front of you makes you blink a few times in hopes of figuring out if his existence is not a fata morgana, watching as the boy only shrugs at you in nonchalance.
“Ah, that…” he hums. “I actually brought you a treat, since you said you will be stuck in the library the whole day,” he says, offering you a bag containing something sweet-smelling.
Once you take a better look at what he’s holding in front of you, your stomach churns and your tastebuds yearn for the sugary dough he must have gotten in the bakery at the corner of the campus on his way here– pink glazing and colorful sprinkles, almost bringing tears into your eyes in appreciation. “What? Why?” you ask. “You didn’t have to…”
“I figured there was no use going to the cinema if you’re not going,” he explains– his words making a nervous little bug fly around your stomach. “Since I’m sure Sunwoo and Izzy wanted to go alone anyways, I didn’t wanna be a third-wheel.”
Oh. Right. You forgot about that part.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea to leave them alone together, to be honest,” you say, making Eric chuckle at your comment.
“This might either be the best, or the worst thing on the whole entire planet.”
“Agreed,” you nod.
Eric sends you a prolonged look in which you realize you haven’t accepted his offering yet, making you reach for the bag containing the donut and placing it onto the table, right next to your laptop. “But really, thank you,” you nod, “you didn’t have to. I’m sure you have other things you could be doing…”
“I wanted to make your stay in the library more pleasant,” Eric says, shrugging. His figure is still towering over you– as he’s standing and you’re sitting down– something about the fact making you wish he would take a seat next to you and maybe even stay for a minute. “I imagine it’s gonna be a long day for you…”
“Yeah,” you sigh. “All thanks to my stupid internship and my stupid boss and this stupid assignment…” you ramble, watching as Eric’s lips turn into a soft smile. What he’s smiling at, you’re not really sure– the topic of the conversation is already miserable enough for you without actually doing any of the things you’re complaining about– but you drop it as the boy crouches next to you, putting his arm around your chair.
“What do you need to do?” he asks, interested.
“I just need to finish this spreadsheet,” you hum, “which isn’t that hard, it’s just a lot of tedious work that no one wants to do, so of course it falls on the intern.”
“That’s the beauty of an internship,” Eric jokes.
“Do you even intern?”
“No,” he laughs, shaking his head. “But I’d like to see what it’s like. Want help with that? I can read the numbers out for you so you don’t get lost in all those rows and columns,” he suggests, pointing to the amount of reports waiting at your desk, waiting to be digitized.
“Oh, it’s okay,” you sheepishly say, although touched with the offer. He’s probably only saying it to be nice– but that’s still enough for appreciation to grow in your chest. “You don’t have to stay and do boring things with me just because we were supposed to hang out today. Actually, you should hurry so you can get to the cinema on time–”
In your peripheral vision, you watch as the boy stands up from his crouched position only to pull out a chair from one of the empty seats, placing it next to yours so he has a view of your laptop. Before you get a chance to protest any longer, he’s sat in the seat with one of his legs popped up and resting on the bottom construction of your chair, hands reaching for the papers that you could physically drown in sprawled all over your desk.
“Don’t be silly. I’d rather do anything else than to watch Sunwoo embarrassingly try to flirt with your friend,” he chuckles. “So, which numbers do you need?”
“Eric, really–”
“These ones?” he persists, not even giving you a chance to protest any longer.
Eyes meeting– his big and honest, a warm pool of honey– yours a little tired, but still filled with tender appreciation, he waits for you to answer and explain how he can help you. He patiently awaits your instructions, wanting to make your life a bit easier– and something about that makes your heart leap in your chest.
You guess you’d say you and Eric are friends now. Yeah, you definitely are.
“Look, the sooner you’re done, the sooner you can get out of here and get another donut with me on your way home. Because trust me, I thought I could resist, but the more I look at the one I brought you, the more I kinda want one for myself…”
Laughing, you shake your head at his boyish antics. He looks so casual right now– like someone cut out of your everyday life, like someone you’ve known for years and are destined to know forever.
You show him which row he should read out loud for you. You share the donut with him. It takes a bit longer than you expected and the donut place is closed when he walks with you home, but he assures you it’s okay– you can get one another time.
“Five iced americanos, two lattes, one iced tea– do you want anything?” Jihoon turns to you with raised eyebrows, getting a look of your sulking face.
“No,” you bite back, anger getting the worst out of you.
“Okay, so we’ll also add another americano and a flat white, please,” your coworker slash friend turns back towards the barista, smiling at him and paying with the corporate card.
After the two of you move into the line waiting for drinks, you continue on with your little tangent.
“So they think they can make me do all the dirty work, leave me with no time to do anything and announce tasks at the last second, only to be bitchy and don’t even say thank you when I do everything they tell me to?” you snap, scowling at Jihoon. “And then they decide that oh, maybe I’m not good enough to do all those fucking spreadsheets for them, so I am demoted to a coffee runner?!” you yell out, having the heads of the rest of the customers turn to you with annoyed and concerned looks on their faces.
“Okay, so we are going to calm down–”
“I don’t wanna calm down!”
Jihoon laughs at your little outburst– which only makes you more frustrated– before he puts a finger against your lips to silent you, an amused expression taking over his face. “Don’t scream when we are inside, at least.”
After his finger leaves your lips, you are left staring at him with a sharp look– like a child that is mad because it didn’t get a new toy it liked in the store. You acknowledge that you might be acting a bit overly-dramatic at the moment, but you also still think your feelings and thoughts are justified.
You hate the corporate lifestyle. You despise how you have to be a stuck-up to climb it, and how hard work never truly gets you anywhere if you don’t have connections.
Which is why Liu Yangyang is currently helping your boss with all major tasks, getting the experience he truly needs for his degree, while you and Jihoon were sent to get coffee for the whole office. Amazing, isn’t it? The way you can feel so looked down upon, even though you’re aware this is the place you’re supposed to be in, this is how you’re supposed to be treated.
You’re just an intern, nothing else. But sometimes, the uneven weight of responsibilities you get at work makes you stressed and nervous that one day, you’ll have too much on your shoulders to bear while all the other time, you aren’t even worthy of a normal task.
“I hope each and every one of them burns their tongue on that fucking coffee,” you grunt, making Jihoon only laugh harder.
“At least half of them ordered iced americanos, babe.”
A sigh escapes your throat at that. “Okay, so I hope they all spill the drink onto them,” you refute, making Jihoon grin.
“You’re so petty,” he points out as he stands close to you, suddenly deciding to use you as his own personal armrest. “Besides, I think you should appreciate that you don’t have to do a lot today, don’t you think? It’s nice to get a breather. I know I wouldn’t wanna be in Yangyang’s shoes right now.”
“I guess so,” you sigh, looking up to meet the tall boy’s eyes. “But it makes me feel like they don’t think we’re good enough for anything else.”
“And if that’s my crime, then so be it,” he playfully shrugs. “At least I’ll have the experience on my CV and I can graduate.”
“I’d love to have your mindset,” you muse.
“It’s quite easy, actually,” he nods. “You should get it into that pretty brain of yours,” he says as one of his fingers points to the side of your skull, making you scrunch your nose at him and try to avert the contact.
Jihoon is persistent, though, as he suddenly makes it his quest to ruffle your hair to tease you and make it all disheveled. The two of you get into a play-fight of some sort, consisting of you trying to wrestle the boy off and him trying to make your life a living hell in any way he can, when he abruptly stops and raises his eyebrows at someone behind you, offering them a wave.
“Yo, dude! Hi!” he greets, making you turn your head to see who he is addressing.
There, standing just a few meters in front of you in the line, is Eric Sohn wearing cargo pants and a loose shirt, earphones hanging around the base of his neck. After being greeted by your friend, he moves closer to the two of you, smiling.
“Hi!” he says, paying both of you an up-and-down scan. “What’s up?”
“Nothing much,” Jihoon replies for the both of you, settling to his previous position of resting half his body-weight against your shoulder. You’ve grown used to his nature– playful and friendly, much like an older brother would act– so you don’t really mind the casual touch and teasing from him. “We were sent here to get coffee for the whole building, so we’re just doing that while Y/N here complains about everything–”
“I don’t complain about everything, just the systematic oppression of interns in the workplace–”
“Yeah, whatever you say,” Jihoon cuts you off, snickering. “What about you?”
Eric watches the two of you bickering with furrowed brows before he clears his throat, shrugging. “On my way to class,” he says, “I’m late already, so I figured a few more minutes while I get my coffee won’t hurt me in the long run.”
“Very responsible of you,” you joke, watching as the boy in front of you laughs, paying you a short look.
“Look, I don’t have any big responsibilities like the two of you do, so…”
“Y/N, on the contrary, doesn’t think getting coffee for the corporate people is enough of a responsibility,” Jihoon chimes in, making Eric’s eyes shift towards the taller boy, sending him a look slightly different to the one he gives you.
“She just doesn’t really know how to chill out,” Eric nods.
“Hello?” you snicker. “I’m literally right here.”
The shorter one looks at you with glimmering eyes, shrugging. “It’s something you have to hear,” he notes. “Truth hurts, but it’s better than lying to yourself.”
Just after that, an order is called that makes Eric’s attention perk up, turning around to the barista. “I think that’s me,” he says, taking a step back towards the counter to retrieve his coffee. “I better get going, but it was nice seeing you two,” he nods.
“Us two…” Jihoon whispers next to you, making you look at him with furrowed brows, confused.
“It was nice seeing you too!” you nod instead, smiling.
“I’ll see you around!” Eric says. Before he completely disappears to the top of the line and out of the coffee shop, he turns to you one more time. “Oh and Y/N, we should hang out again sometime… Text me?”
“Oh, sure,” you agree, your stomach fueled with a strange kind of sensation at his words. You know you should’ve had breakfast in the morning– surely it’s just you being hungry. “I’ll- I’ll text you.”
Only after Jihoon waves at him, finally ridding you off the burden of being his personal armrest, do you realize how hot you feel in your cheeks and how you’ve spent the last couple of seconds carefully, intensively watching Eric get his coffee and step out of the building. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, the atmosphere suddenly too quiet to the one there was between the two of you before Eric Sohn arrived, you feel Jihoon elbow you in your side.
“So,” he starts, already hinting that this is going to be a difficult conversation, “what’s up with you and Sohn?”
“Hm?” you snap your head around to face him, almost breaking your neck with the force. “What do you mean, what’s up with me and Eric? There’s nothing up between the two of us.”
“Sure… and he wasn’t staring at me like he wanted to personally kill me with his own two hands just now, correct?” he teases, making you stop in your tracks.
Was Eric looking at him like that? You didn’t even notice.
“Correct,” you agree. “I don’t really think he was…”
“And my name is not Jihoon–”
“Stop being so difficult to talk to all the time, dear god–”
“Okay, miss ‘I find Eric Sohn to be the hottest one in the world’–”
“When have I ever said that?!” you call out again, suddenly feeling a little too hot in your cheeks, ears, and the back of your neck. What’s up with this visceral reaction? You swear you were nonchalant about these things!
“Oh, sorry, let me correct myself. It was the hottest one in the room, actually, but I think that speaks for itself, since Lee Heeseung himself was present–”
“Are you jealous, or something?” you choose to counter attack, leaving Jihoon to laugh at you in amusement.
“As if,” he shakes his head at you. “I just think it’s cute how whenever I see you two interact, he acts like a lost puppy following you and you’re too oblivious to do anything about it.”
“No, he doesn’t,” you furrow your brows at him, the words not even fully registering in your brain. What does he even mean by all of this? You and Eric are friends– that’s all there is to it.
“Sure… stay being like that and end up a bitchless loser forever, then,” he shrugs. You’d react more to his pointless arguments– because let’s be real, he is just making all of this up to stir some drama– but your awfully long order is called right in the moment you open your mouth to come up with a clever comeback, and so you choose to drop the topic, because it’s quite meaningless in your eyes anyway.
Walking back with two cup holders in your hands, fulfilling your one and only task of the day, you turn to Jihoon with a teasing grin. “Wait, did you just call Lee Heeseung sexy?”
“It was purely objective–”
“I really hate this, y’know?” you mutter as you stand in front of the gates of the amusement park, your cheerful roommate standing by your side bouncing on her feet as she waits in excitement.
“Shut up,” she says, a smile never leaving her face despite your gloomy expression, “don’t ruin this for me.”
“Well, it’s either you or me that is going to have their day ruined, and I think that judging by the fact that I’m already here, we know which one is going to turn true,” you say as you aimlessly look around, watching people going in and out of the premises of the park, some with goofy headbands on, some holding balloons– all of them sickly in love.
“It’s not like I invited you to a funeral, y’know,” Izzy grunts, “you could just act happy for me. It wouldn’t hurt you, y’know–”
“I would act happy for you if you didn’t feel the need to drag me to your dates with you–”
“Stop being such a party popper, dude. You’re going to have fun if you just allow yourself to,” she rolls her eyes at you. Yeah, she might be right about some parts of her argument– you got free tickets to the amusement park, which you love, just for the record– and you also have a day off from your internship and classes, which makes any day basically the best day on earth for you, but there is one thing about this whole situation that is making you doubt it just the tiniest bit.
That being the fact that you’re tagging along to a date. And you’re not alone in it– which automatically makes this whole thing seem a little too similar to a double date.
“I just don’t want him to think I see this as a–”
Your argument is quickly shut off as your roommate physically squeals into your ear before running off, feet automatically taking her to her sweetheart. Sunwoo is quick to catch her in his arms when she jumps into his hold, excited to see him despite hanging out with him two days ago, and you’re left walking slowly to the two approaching figures alone.
The moment you see Eric Sohn wearing tan cargo pants and a red windbreaker over his figure, your throat goes dry. His eyes light up a bit when they land on you, which makes the reality of not being able to run away anymore settle deep inside of your bones, and suddenly, you feel strangely nervous in his vicinity.
This hasn’t happened to you yet around him– if you don’t count all the moments where you embarrassed yourself in front of him, feeling painfully awkward. However, the fact that this whole situation is too similar to a double date is making you feel slightly weak in your knees simply because of the fact that you don’t want Eric to think you want this to be a double date. You only went because Izzy promised to wash the dishes for you for two weeks if you did, and that’s an offer nobody should turn down, you think.
The idea of Eric Sohn thinking you want to go on a double date with him makes you feel agonizingly embarrassed. You two are just friends– nothing more, nothing less– and you wouldn’t want him to get the wrong idea. You would never think of yourself as someone Eric would invite over for a date in the first place anyway– you don’t want him to have a feeling that you suddenly have high thoughts about yourself.
“Y/N! Hi!” Your thoughts are quickly cut off when you hear the boy himself greet you cheerfully, walking up to you to envelope you in a short hug.
His arms sneak around you only for a moment, but you feel yourself automatically reciprocating the gesture before it even has a chance to register in your brain. You don’t really know when the two of you passed to the level of friendship where you greet each other with a hug– maybe the few text messages you shared since you last saw him in the coffee shop might have done the work– but you try to not question it when he pulls away, leaving you awkwardly standing around and watching Sunwoo and your roommate gaze romantically into each other’s eyes.
“Today’s gonna be tough,” Eric notes.
Chuckling at his words, knowing he’s referring to the honeymoon stage your friends have somehow ended up in– because you still can’t believe Izzy managed to date the boy after her embarrassing attempts– you just shake your head and move towards the entrance of the amusement park, not really wanting to pay any more attention to the couple than you have to.
“It is,” you agree, “I wouldn’t have agreed to go for this exact reason, but the idea of rides persuaded me,” you hum.
“I only went because this was the only way I could get a day off at work,” Eric mutters, “my stupid sister insisted I come with Sunwoo or else she wouldn’t cover my shift.”
“That’s strange,” you chuckle, furrowing your eyebrows at him. “Why would she care?”
“I dunno,” he shrugs, “said something about ‘enjoying my youth’, or something,” he grins. “I don’t really even like amusement parks, if I’m being honest.”
“You don’t?” you gasp, shaking your head at the boy. “Damn. I would think you’re an adrenaline junkie, if I’m being honest.”
“I am!” he agrees, nodding. “The other day, though, I saw a Tiktok about a ride breaking down somewhere in Japan, and that was the same day Sunwoo invited me here, so I think it might’ve been a sign from the universe to not go on any of these rides, or else I will die.”
Laughing at his words, shaking your head, you lightly slap his arm at the comment. “Don’t say that,” you tell him, “you’re just being a scaredy cat, admit it.”
“No…” he suspiciously shakes his head, very obviously lying.
“Yeah, right…” you snicker. “I mean, it’s okay, dude. I won’t laugh.”
“You’re already laughing, though?” Eric points out, an accusing finger in your face. His actions make you burst into even bigger giggles, eyes meeting his. When your gaze lands onto his face– the upper half shielded by the shade casted off his cap, yet still having his eyes crinkled up and cheeks full as he grins at you wide and warm in the sunlight– your stomach does that weird thing again, completely ruining the moment.
Clearing your throat, trying to keep your composure, you turn your head to search for Izzy and Sunwoo. The moment you catch them in makes your eyes go big and a grunt leave your throat involuntarily– the PDA making you even sicker to your stomach. While Sunwoo is standing in front of your roommate, his arms securely around her middle, she is gazing up into his eyes with a pout decorating her lips. The boy holds her cheeks in his hands for a brief moment before he leans in and gives her a short kiss that makes the girl stand up on her tippy toes, chasing for another one.
“Oh wow,” you let out, making Eric sigh next to you at the sight.
“Now that’s…”
“Yeah,” you nod while you turn back forward, trying your hardest to not look at the two of them any longer than you physically have to. “I knew they would be like that if they started dating. It’s like my worst nightmares came true.”
“Sunwoo can’t stop talking about her either. I’m starting to think I will know more about your roommate than you do, at this rate.”
“You might,” you agree, laughing to yourself. “With how many nights she’s spent at his place, I’m starting to think she’s going to move out soon.”
“Well, that’s only good for you then, no?”
“Yeah,” you agree, joking. “The only reason why I still keep her around is to pay half the rent, if I’m being honest,” you chuckle, having the boy shake his head at your playful antics.
The two of you move forwards slowly while looking around the place, trying to see what you should do. The sun is strangely aggressive today, making it hard for you to see as you squint in the brightness– since the amusement park doesn’t really provide you with much shade– only making you a bit more frustrated with your choice of plans today.
“Should we get some drinks first?” Eric asks, pointing towards a stand that sells coffee, milkshakes and other beverages.
The line is long, but you don’t really see a reason not to wait. You have the whole day in front of you, after all, and since it seems to you that Sunwoo and Izzy have taken it upon themselves to ignore you two completely, acting like this was their own date, you choose to stick to whatever Eric wants to do.
As you move to stand next to him– while also moving out of someone’s way– the back of your hand comes in contact with the boy’s next to you, having a slight wave of electricity run through your spine as you clear your throat and move away from him, wishing he didn’t notice. You take it upon yourself to look around to see what your next choice of plan should be.
After ignoring many couples walking around– since it seems that you chose a day when no other visitors were around, just teenagers holding hands and kissing in front of the rides (much like your friends are doing right now)– you opt to point your eyes at the horizon, looking at the tall constructions and rides. You have to shield your eyes from the sun with your hand to really see them, but the sight of them excites you a bit, so you guess it’s worth it. Squinting at the Pirate ride or the big rollercoaster twisting and turning like a caterpillar in the distance, you make a mental note of all the attractions you want to visit today.
Slowly moving to the top of the line to get coffee with Eric, you continue gazing behind him, blissfully unaware that he’s been watching you the whole time, noticing your little struggle.
“After we get the coffee, I wanna go on that roller coaster there,” you hum, “and I’m bringing you with me, because Sunwoo and Izzy–”
Your words get caught in your throat as the man suddenly moves the hand you’ve been resting against your eyebrows to shield your eyes from the sunlight down, replacing it by taking his cap off and making you wear it. Your heart jumps at the action, eyes finally relaxing now that they’re in shade, making you gulp and stare at Eric.
“You don’t have to–”
“I have my sunglasses with me, so it’s fine,” he says, tugging the peak further down your head in a teasing way, a smile adorning his face.
You forgot what you were even saying in the first place– the idea of Eric’s hat on your head making your brain overheat a little with the added fabric on top of your hair. It’s the same cap you see on him often– his favorite one, you think– and your stupid, silly brian is starting to make connotations around the action that you’re sure are not correct.
You can’t say you’re not happy about wearing it, though. It does help your eyes.
“You were saying?” he asks, making you look back at him with big eyes, trying to think of what you were talking about before.
“Oh,” you hum, while also simultaneously reaching to fix his hair– since he hasn’t bothered to after taking off his hat for you– not even thinking about your actions as you run your fingers through the honey strands, “I was just saying you’re gonna have to go on some rides with me, because the lovebirds are ignoring us and I am not going alone,” you repeat.
When you’re done moving the blonde locks to their supposed place, eyes drifting back to Eric’s– now big and watching your every move, making you falter a little under his gaze and heat creep onto your cheeks– it’s his turn to clear his throat, shrugging.
“You’ll have to hold my hand when I get scared, though,” he says. The casualty of his tone shocks you, having you watch as the boy averts his gaze from you and presses his lips together into a thin line, not even paying a second thought to the implications of his words.
You pay them a second thought, though.
You keep repeating the words in your brain over and over, fingertips buzzing at the preposition, hands sweating at the mental image. Do you mind the thought of it?
Well, no. You don’t.
Not a big deal, after all…
“What did you want again? Flat white?” he asks, completely ignoring the previous conversation. You didn’t even realize you got to the top of the line, too deep in your thoughts, and before you have a chance to take out your wallet to pay for your drink (or maybe even Eric’s, since he paid the last time), he is holding the cup up to you already.
As you take it from him, your fingers touch again. It makes a warm pool of honey glisten in the pit of your stomach, foolishness creeping up your bones.
The boy takes it upon himself to shock you even further as he swings an arm around your shoulders, tugging you close to him. “Let’s go back to the lovebirds before they forget about our existence completely.”
You choose to ignore the fact that you forgot about their existence yourself.
When you get on the ride a few minutes later, Eric holds onto your hand. Your heart beats a thousand miles an hour, but you will write it off to the adrenaline– you do, however, foolishly wish he was scared more often.
Turns out having Park Jihoon as your coworker isn’t as bad as it seems. Sure, he is good at making the atmosphere lighter in the office and also amazing at gossip in the workplace, but he is also surprisingly very good at his job– and with the date of your presentation fastly approaching, you had to get all the help you needed.
Which is why you made the boy sit with you in the park as you went over it again and again, showing him your laptop and rehearsing your speech, taking notes of every little thing Jihoon said you should fix or add into the whole thing. You genuinely appreciate what he’s doing for you, which is why you also remind yourself to get him something after the internship is done– but after at least two hours of working on your laptop with him, he gets tired and his attention span seems to get shorter and shorter– and you don’t really blame him.
Actually, you welcome the distractions he offers with open hands. Even more so, you add on to them and fuel them with more conversation, the laptop opened on your thighs long forgotten as you search through your gallery and show the phone screen to your friend, talking about the cute pillows you found at the store last week.
“See? They’re like… sea foam green, but Izzy says they wouldn’t go with our couch,” you hum, furrowing your brows at him, trying to see a different opinion on your newest choice of furniture for the already overcrowded flat.
“What color is your couch again?” he asks as you keep swiping, showing him all the angles of the pillows.
“Brown.”
“Oh, hell no,” Jihoon shakes his head, “that’s a Perry the platypus type of combo, I’m with Izzy on this one– oop, that doesn’t look like the pillows anymore–”
Swiftly turning the phone towards you again, worried of what picture you accidentally revealed to him (while you don’t have any nudes on your phone, you’re sure any selfie would be just as much embarrassing), you’re left with heat rising to your cheeks and shame drowning your system.
“Well, anyways, so the pillows–”
“We’re not talking about the pillows anymore, girl–”
“We are–”
“No,” he keeps interrupting you, making you grunt and sigh as you rest your head against the trunk of the tree behind you, banging it against it in frustration.
“Shut up,” you mutter. The thing is, you know you won’t escape the teasing now– because Park Jihoon watching you swipe through your gallery to a high-angle selfie of Eric Sohn in his work uniform, pouting, is surely a very incriminating image. “We text on Whatsapp and he sent the pic, so it automatically saved–”
“And you just never deleted it, naturally,” Jihoon hums with a shit-eating grin on his face.
“I forgot–”
“You just didn’t want to–”
“Oh shut the fuck up,” you sigh again, locking your phone and throwing it into the grass.
You and Eric have grown close since the day you spent together in the amusement park. So much to the point where you get lunch together sometimes and he sends you selfies when he’s bored at work, it seems. You don’t mind the subtle shift– hell, you welcome it with open arms– you just wish Park Jihoon (and Izzy, at this point) would stop teasing you about something that was not even vaguely true.
There is nothing going on between you and Eric Sohn.
And nothing ever will be– not a chance.
“I think the denial is being a little embarrassing now,” Jihoon chirps, making you swat his shoulder. You are not in denial– there is nothing to deny.
“You are being a little embarrassing.”
“You know I’m right,” Jihoon shrugs, grinning. Does he not have enough drama in his own life to stick his nose into yours? Not that there is any drama between you and Eric– but you bet Park Jihoon would love to create some.
“You’re never right.”
“Sure,” Jihoon hums. “I’ll mention this on your wedding speech–”
“I’ll kill you before I get married,” you grunt.
“But you didn’t deny the identity of the groom–”
Launching at the boy again, a threatening fist almost landing to his cheek, you watch as he wrestles you away with a loud laugh resonating through the space. Something about how lightly he takes the situation makes your stomach churn in an unknown emotion– you really don’t see why everyone thinks there should be something going on between you and your childhood friend.
“Look, all I’m saying is that if you want this to be a thing, maybe you should finally make a move, since the guy seems to be dull as fuck–”
Interrupting, never letting him finish a sentence when it comes to this topic, you try to finally prove your point. “I don’t want this to be a thing. I don’t even know what you’re talking–”
“I should go before I’m killed,” Jihoon suddenly hurries out, making you furrow your brows at him.
“What?”
“See you on Monday!” the tall male waves, scattering to his feet. He doesn’t give you much explanation as he runs off to the other side of the campus, making you watch him with confused eyes. Where has he gone so quickly? He doesn’t want to be killed?
By whom? Should you be afraid? Should you run as well?
Somebody clears his throat next to you, making you jump as you turn your head to see who is disrupting your peace. The moment your eyes meet the intruder, Jihoon’s comment finally settles in– god, you’ll kill him when you see him again.
“Eric! What are you doing here?” you ask, watching as the boy shrugs, taking a seat next to you on the grass.
“Just got off work,” he says, “and you said you’ll be here, so I thought I’d come and say hi,” he hums, yawning and stretching his arms above his head.
The sentiment makes you mentally coo– the emotion going as far as reaching your face in a form of a gentle pout– as you dwell deeper over his words. You didn’t think that complaining about how you have to do work would make Eric think of visiting you after finishing his own, but something about it makes you all warm from the inside.
“You didn’t have to,” you hum. “You seem tired.”
A gentle smile is sent your way, so illuminizing it makes you look away. “I know, but I wanted to,” he says, “I also brought you leftovers, if you want some. It’s almost dinner time.”
An involuntary gasp leaves your throat as you watch the male take out an aluminum wrap from his backpack and offer it to you alongside his bright grin. You waste no time in taking the pizza slices into your hand and carefully unwrapping them, allured by the smell.
“Why did Jihoon run so fast, by the way?” Eric asks, laughing.
“Oh, he said he was late for something…” you hum. (You’re not even convinced of your own excuse. You don’t know how Eric doesn’t see right through your lies.)
“Ah,” the boy nods in acknowledgement, scooping closer to you so his back is now resting against the tree, his eyes gluing themselves onto your laptop screen. His piney smell fills your nose, making your stomach feel like it’s on water, before his soft, tired voice lands into your ear. “Did you make a lot of progress?”
“Mhm,” you nod, clicking through the slides and showing him. The boy makes an acknowledging sound after each new information you tell him– something that makes you find him immensely endearing– as you simultaneously reach for the pizza and mindlessly offer the slice you’ve already bitten into to him, watching as his straight teeth chew down into the dough, sharing one piece with you.
“Are you done for the day? I’ll walk you home,” he says, tiredness completely seeping through his tone now. You can tell he needs sleep– which makes you feel slightly bad about making him take a detour just to meet you.
“Almost,” you hum apologetically, closing your laptop. “I just need to read a few more articles Jihoon recommended for me and then I should be done,” you say, reaching for your iPad as you put your computer away into your bag.
“Okay,” he nods.
“You can go home, Eric,” you say, “you don’t have to stay for me.”
“No, it’s fine,” he shakes his head, smiling at you.
Watching him, eyes meeting for a heartbeat, you see that he won’t budge no matter how harshly you’d tell him to go– so you figure that quickly getting through the articles and going home is your safest bet in this situation. Tapping on the screen and finding the email Jihoon forwarded to you, you open the first link in the message, subconsciously registering as the boy next to you gets comfortable sitting in the grass with you.
You only get through half of the (lengthy) article before you see Eric’s head lolling forwards, sleep taking over him. The motion wakes him, but not for long as he just can’t keep his eyes open anymore– the combination of a long shift, classes in the morning and finishing up his assignments late in the night getting the worst out of him and making you feel immensely bad for the boy. Not focused on the words in the article anymore, you watch as your friend scooches further down in the grass, acting on instinct as his head suddenly rests against your shoulder, soft hair tickling the side of your neck.
Heart leaping in your chest and whole body freezing– begging the universe to not make the boy wake up from his half-asleep state right now– you try your hardest to pay attention to the business tactics described in the article you’ve been reading for the last couple of minutes. It seems to be the hardest task you’ve ever set your mind on, though, as you notice the screen of your tablet getting dark, mirroring Eric’s relaxed face.
His neck is craned and his eyes are closed shut, making you turn your head to watch the sight first-hand, mentally counting all the eyelashes kissing his cheekbones and his puffed-out lips. Something about his pose doesn’t seem the tiniest bit comfortable, though– although it makes a strange wave of satisfaction run through your veins– and so, like any other decent person, you gently cradle your fingers through his hair, waking him up.
“Hmm?”
“Your neck is gonna be sore,” you quietly say as you put your arm around his shoulder, “just lay down, yeah?” you say, doing your best at adjusting his position.
The male lets you navigate him with half-lidded eyes as you make him scooch even further down into the grass before you pull his upper body towards your lower half, essentially making the boy lay his head into your lap. Eric looks up at you from his new position for just a few seconds, eye contact reminding you of a small, shy puppy you just brought home from the road, making you smile softly and treat him as one when you instinctively reach out and pet his head, running your fingers through his soft strands and gently scratching his scalp.
After a few seconds, the male closes his eyes again, seemingly drifting off into the dreamland. Your actions soothe him and simultaneously bring you into some sort of trance you can’t bring yourself out of– eyes glued to his face, studying it.
The angle of his nose and the slope of his upper lip is much more enjoyable to study and memorize than the sales statistics of your job’s concurrency. You find his long eyelashes to be nothing far from angelic, his light hair like a crown of gold under your touch. Everything about him is soft and gentle in this state– with the golden hour shining down onto his features, making his skin glisten like honey– the view so pretty you’d like to take a picture to remember it forever.
Your head spins and your stomach does that weird thing again. This is not the first time you are acknowledging Eric’s attractiveness– just the first time you are appreciating his beauty, his prettiness to the point where you are enchanted by it, not able to tear your attention away. You can’t deny the fact that it affects you anymore.
You can’t deny the fact you feel around him lately. It makes you feel strange and embarrassed, but not to the point where you’d want to keep away from him.
Your iPad is thrown next to you on the grass, forgotten and abandoned. You’re jealous of the sun– for it’s able to kiss his cheeks without fear, without judgment– the boy turning into a putty under your touch, subconsciously leaning into it when you drag his light bangs away from his forehead.
You admit the fact that you stopped working on your project the moment he arrived, not able to put your attention elsewhere than to his presence. You’re also aware he’d sleep better and more comfortably in his own bed, but for some reason, you selfishly want to keep him there– looking like a painting, something akin to a poem you wish you wrote.
Just for the moment, you let the reality down on you– that maybe Park Jihoon was right and there is no use denying the obvious anymore. Just for the moment, you let the feeling consume you, eat you alive. For now, though, the boy in your lap is all yours to admire. Blissfully unaware and painfully beautiful, soft and gentle all around.
The feeling inside of you is too raw, too real and so much different to anything you’ve ever known before.
When you’re satisfied with the dose of skinship, you wake the boy up and let him walk you home. You pretend for a moment the feeling is reciprocated and not left scared and lonely out in the open as Eric helps you carry your stuff for you and pulls you into a bear hug in front of your doorstep. You don’t tell him that you had the scariest realization while he was soundly asleep in your arms– it’s too scary and too real and you’re not ready to get your heart broken just yet.
You pretend everything’s like before. Normal.
You convince yourself that it will pass.
Once you enter the place, you’re instantly surrounded by the sound of people talking amongst each other, forks and glasses being put down, resonating through the whole place, the phone ringing somewhere in the distance, and a cold shot of liquid coming in contact with your stomach, making you gasp out in surprise.
“Oh shit!” Sunwoo grunts as he registers the mess he just caused, looking up at you with an apologetic look. “I’m sorry!”
Noticing the rush everywhere in the pizzeria and the amount of customers he has to take care of, you can’t really blame him for not watching where he’s going. Still, your face slowly morphs into a subtle frown at the realization that there is now a dark stain on your favorite white T-shirt, your outfit for the evening ruined– meaning half of your confidence disappeared just as fast as the Coca-Cola did from the glass Sunwoo has been holding.
“It’s okay,” you sigh, shaking your head. “It’s nothing–”
“I’ll get you a towel! I’ll be right back,” the boy urgently says as he makes you hold the half-empty glass of the beverage he just spilled all over you, making you shrug and question if you should just drink the rest of it as a price of consolation.
“Dude, this place is packed,” Izzy grunts from next to you, “can’t even blame him for being all over the place, at this point.”
“Yeah,” you absent-mindledly nod, eyes searching in the crowd to find the figure you came here for in the first place. Not that you only want his presence, no– it’s just that Eric was the one who invited you to the festival your university is throwing as a celebration of the end of the semester. Supposedly, he knows the guy that’s playing in the band that’s headlining it, and even though you tried to refute his arguments and invitations with the fact that you have nothing to be celebrating just yet– the final season is surely going to kick your butt and the presentation for your internship is in just two days, which means you should be preparing for it really hard right in this moment, but his pleading voice in your speaker as you talked to him on the phone on your way home from class was strong enough to convince you that maybe you do need some time to wind off before the responsibilities sweep you off your feet again.
Once you find the boy himself walking away from one of the tables in the corner, his eyes find yours– as if knowing you’ve been looking for him, sensing your presence. His face is outstretched into a smile as he practically skips towards you and Izzy, but the grin leaves his features swiftly once he notices the ugly stain on your shirt.
“Damn, what happened?” he asks.
“Sunwoo spilled a drink over me,” you shrug, watching as his coworker rolls his eyes in frustration at the new information. You laugh at his fakely mad expression, shaking your head at him. “It’s fine, he was in a rush.”
“Yeah, we’re kinda behind, so I don’t know if–”
“No, it’s fine!” you hear a female voice call out, making you snap your head towards the direction of the counter behind you, noticing the presence of Lisa, Eric’s older sister. Her face is adorned with a wide grin that gets a teasing hint when her brother sends her a questioning look, making you watch the interaction with interest. “You said you’re leaving at 7, so you’re leaving at 7. I told dad my friends are coming up to help today, so you just go and enjoy your time out!”
“Really?” Eric asks, tone full of disbelief. You think he spends more time at the restaurant than he does in his own bedroom, and suddenly, you’re happy his sister is being so kind towards the poor boy.
“Yeah! You have more important business to take care of anyway, so…” Lisa says, wiggling her eyebrows at Eric. The boy sends her a look full of fear– which might be justified, since you don’t really know what’s going on at the moment– before he clears his throat and turns his attention back towards you.
“Anyways…” he starts, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. “You can change into my shirt, if you want…? I have a spare one in the back in a case of emergency, and this surely looks like one, so–”
“Oh, it’s okay, you don’t have to–”
“I mean, the stain is pretty noticeable, so I was just–” he says.
“It’s fine, Eric, I’ll just wash it in the sink, or something.”
“Or you can take my shirt that does not have a stain on it. I swear it doesn’t smell, I only wore it once! I’ll wear the one I forgot in my locker the other day,” he says, looking at you with wide, expecting eyes. Your heart does a flip in your ribcage.
You have to mentally restrain yourself from freaking out over this. He’s just being nice. He’s offering you his shirt because he probably knows that you want to look good– he is offering you his shirt because he knows the stain on yours is bothering you and that it wouldn’t come out as easily in the sink if you don’t wash the shirt properly with laundry detergent that you don’t have on hand right now– and when you weight all the positives and negatives of the offer (which you find far less pros than cons in, just for the record), you realize you don’t really have a reason to decline his offer.
“I mean, if you’re sure…”
The boy only nods, gently takeing you by your forearm as he leads you towards the back. You’ve never been there before and you also don’t really know where Izzy disappeared to, but you stop worrying about those the same moment Eric opens his locker and hands you his black shirt, a tight-lipped smile adorning his features.
“I’ll give you some privacy.”
“Thanks,” you nod. You wait for the door to close before you quickly drag your sticky T-shirt over your head and discard it off your chest, glad you’re ridded of the nasty feeling of it against your skin, fastly putting on the soft material that Eric draped onto your hold before on your upper body.
The smell of his cologne instantly hits you in the face stronger than a baseball ever could, making your head spin and your stomach feel like it’s floating in the middle of the sea. Taking a quick look at yourself in the mirror on the wall next to you, you admire the way the garment fits you just well– since the height difference between you and Eric is barely existent. It makes you wonder if you could share wardrobes– the mental image of him in your favorite oversized graphic T-shirts making a foolish smile creep onto your cheeks, one that you forcefully wipe off the second you see it in the mirror. You smooth down the fabric before you tuck one side into the waistband of your jeans, satisfied with your new outfit.
Giddy, you walk out of the storage room. It takes you a few moments to find your group of friends standing next to the counter, chatting. You notice that Sunwoo has already changed out of his work uniform into his regular clothes– a black band tee and camo cargo pants– one arm around Izzy’s shoulders.
“Ready?” your roommate asks, watching you nod.
“I’ll just go change and then we can go,” Eric says, swiftly turning on his heel and disappearing into the room you just came out of.
Izzy and Sunwoo talk amongst each other before they turn to you, finally deciding to include you in their conversation. “Excited for tonight? Eric said you need to destress,” Sunwoo raises his eyebrows at you, making you shrug.
“I guess,” you hum, “I think I practiced my presentation so many times I could recite it in my sleep now, but it also strangely feels like I don’t know it enough, y’know?” you say, shaking your head. “It’s driving me crazy.”
“I just think you need to take your mind off things, babe,” Izzy chirps, sending you a comforting smile. “You worked hard enough.”
“Well, we will find out soon if it really was enough,” you snicker, making your roommate glare at you with disapproval. Before she has a chance to ridicule you for your self-deprecating thoughts, you choose to change the topic instead, picking one that’s interesting her enough to forget all about your worries. “I heard from Izzy you wanna go bowling?”
“Yeah!” Sunwoo perks up, excitement swirling in his dark orbs. “I haven’t been in a while, actually. I was thinking us four could go after exams are done? As a celebration?”
You four. You find the fact that this is your new usual strange, but also welcome. How you fit into the group, your presence always counted on. Somewhere along the way, you fell into the causality of the friend group– and you can’t say you hate it as much as you thought you would.
“Yeah, I’m down,” you shrug. “I’ve never played, though.”
“Dude, you and Eric go so well together, then. He’s actually shit at it, so I would even go as far as saying you will be better than him after two tries,” Sunwoo laughs.
You and Eric go so well together– your brain repeats like a mantra. You know he didn’t mean it in that way. You can’t help but wonder– if you’d ask, would he further support his point?
“Speaking of Eric, what’s taking him so long? We’re gonna be late for the concert, at this point,” Izzy hums, checking the time on her phone.
“Should I go tell him to hurry?” you ask, receiving a pair of nods ushering you to go get him.
Taking a few steps towards the staff-only room, not thinking much before you pull the doorknob, you peep inside– regretting it immediately.
You’re met with the image of Eric turning towards the door to see who it is, shirtless. Your eyes can’t help but wander over the angles of his defined arms and stomach, making heat rush into your cheeks faster than you’ve ever felt it before, a broken noise escaping your throat as you pathetically try to both apologize and pretend you didn’t just have a visceral emotion to the sight of his bare body right there, a few meters away from you.
“Shit, sorry, I just–” you say as you turn on your heel, your body moving by itself and on its own accord as your brain flashes a few red exclamation marks right in front of your eyes, “they just– we should hurry, they said,” you mutter out, blanking.
“Coming!” Eric hums, the shuffling of clothes behind you making you believe he is now fully dressed. You won’t test your theory and look over your shoulder, though– you fear the dreams you’d have tonight if you saw him shirtless even for a second longer. You don’t take the initiative to leave the room either, though– feet glued to your spot right behind the door.
You hear the locker slammed shut, the sound of footsteps approaching making you all alert. God, you feel awkward. You feel embarrassingly awkward.
You find comfort in picking at the fabric of his shirt on your body, playing with it in between your fingers. After a moment, you feel his palm come in contact with your shoulder, his arm reaching around your figure as he leads you out of the storage room once again, completely ignoring your flustered state. You’re not sure if he’s uncomfortable or if he truly didn’t mind– but the moment he utters out his next comment, your knees almost buckle, making you breathless at the sight of his cheeks dusted a light pink.
Tugging at the sleeve of his own shirt adorning your body, he admits: “This looks really good on you, by the way.”
When you arrive at the festival, the band isn’t playing yet. You and your friends decide to hang out in the back of the crowd, not really wanting the music to blast straight into your ears from the speakers on the podium, and before you even have a chance to ask Eric who is the friend that’s singing in the band you’re here to see, the male disappears to find the toilets.
Chuckling at the fact that he couldn’t take care of the business before you left the pizzeria, but also suddenly too bored without him (since Izzy and Sunwoo don’t count as proper company when all they pay attention to at this point of their relationship is each other), you decide to get in the line for drinks, announcing your departure to the love birds before you go. You figure you should probably get a drink for Eric too, since he always makes it his quest to pay for yours before you even get a chance to take out your wallet, and you suddenly see his departure as the perfect opportunity to do just that– he won’t have a way to stop you this time.
Standing promptly at the end of the line, you people-watch and listen to conversations of the fellow students hanging around the field. The drink stands are the most occupied out of the whole festival, the crowd of people waiting for a beverage accumulating half the population waiting for the concert, making you almost regret going here alone, since it’s pretty boring to just stand around, doing nothing.
“Damn,” someone hums from behind you, making you turn around to face the stranger, “I’m doomed.”
Instinctively, you raise your brows in question at the male, only prompting him to speak more once you make eye contact.
“I’m playing on stage in a bit, but I wanted to get a beer before we start,” the guy states, chuckling. “At this rate, I’m gonna be late for my own set!”
The fact that one of the band members that are supposed to perform in just a few minutes is currently standing behind you in line for drinks is a little amusing, to be honest. You’d say it’s kind of irresponsible to get to your own gig late, but you guess the boy is living the lifestyle of a punk star already, despite bagging only a mere university concert.
“You should try skipping the line and saying you’re VIP, then,” you joke.
“And get killed? No, thank you,” the boy laughs, shaking his head. “I’ll just see if I can make it in 15 minutes. If I don’t, I’ll just make a run for it.”
Laughing, you nod in acknowledgement at his comment. You don’t really expect the conversation to go any further after that, but the stranger surprises you as he offers you his hand to shake, a lazy smile appearing on his face as he introduces himself.
“I’m Yeonjun, by the way,” he says.
“Oh, nice to meet you. I’m Y/N,” you smile, shaking his outstretched palm.
“How come I’ve never seen you around before?” he hums, making a step towards you as the line moves, making you walk back a step to close the gap in the crowd. Still, he follows you a step further and invades your personal bubble, standing too close for someone you’ve just met.
“Maybe you have,” you shrug, “and you just don’t remember it.”
“I’d remember a pretty face like yours,” Yeonjun comments, making you bite back a laugh.
Is he flirting? Wow. You scan the male up and down, his self-assured stance making you believe that he is very confident in his persona. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s very attractive– plump lips, tall, shoulders broad– or maybe it’s the social status that comes with being in a band. Nonetheless, you can see the act working on many women.
Not you, though.
“Well, I study business, so maybe that’s why.”
The male nods, shrugging. “Maybe I’ll have to hang around the business building more often, then.”
“Maybe,” you nod, chuckling. “There's a bunch of weirdos majoring in Accounting out there, though, so I’d watch my back, if I was you.”
“Well, if it means I get to see your face, I can put that past me,” Yeonjun smirks, making you mentally roll your eyes at the cheesiness of his words.
You don’t really get affected by obvious pick-up lines like these. Not that you hear them often– quite the opposite, really– but you much prefer more natural dynamics. One where conversations feel easy and casual, not forced and with deeper intentions. You can’t deny Yeonjun’s attractiveness, no, but you also can’t really say it’s doing much for you.
Not really knowing what to reply, you awkwardly shrug. “And what do you major in, then?”
“Communications,” the male replies. Something in you clicks– is this the friend Eric was mentioning? You should ask him about Yeonjun after he comes back.
Before you even have a chance to open your mouth and say the words, the male cuts you off after taking a quick glance at his phone. “Look, Y/N, I’d love to get to know you more, but I really have to run now. But if you give me your number, we can get a drink together after my gig is done?”
“Oh–”
“That won’t be needed,” you hear a low voice coming from behind you, making your eyes snap towards the source. Your eyes go wide as you recognise the owner of the voice instantly, your heart hammering in your chest at the close proximity he puts between the two of you. “She’s with me, actually.”
“Eric, dude!” Yeonjun beams– confirming your suspicions. “Sorry dude, I didn’t know that was your girl.”
Your girl. The two words echo in your ears, making your world tilt slightly on its axis. It’s not even true– you’re not together and you’re not Eric’s in any way, shape or form– but something about being called that by other people while wearing his clothes makes you feel like you just shifted realities into one where you’re with him and not so scared of his rejection. One where you’re dating and you get to be called that all the time– one where the words are true.
You’re being foolish again.
You look at Eric in shock, noticing him already staring down at you with a panicked expression on his face. You don’t really know what’s going on in his head behind the shaking orbs of his, a tight-lipped smile offered to his mate as the tips of his ears burn red, a hesitant tone of voice making it known that the possessive words caught him off guard just as much as they did to you. “Well, not exactly…”
The male trails off. Your stomach does that weird thing again. You’d say there’s a soaring hint of hope in your chest, swimming around your intestines, that you want to simultaneously help and also drown in fear of holding on to something that is not even there in the first place, as you look back at Yeonjun. He is now staring the two of you down– shifting his gaze from one of you to the other, a knowing grin appearing on his lips as he processes the situation.
“O-oh… Okay, I see what you mean,” he nods, laughing. “Well, see you two later! I’mma head to the stage,” he pats Eric’s shoulder and waves at you before fully disappearing from the never-ending drink line.
A suffocating silence engulfs the two of you after his departure, making you nervously chew on the inside of your cheek. The thoughts running through your brain almost suffocate you before Eric brings air into your lungs again, making your inner monologue stop as he casually speaks up again, showing you that nothing has changed in your dynamic after this interaction and there is no reason for you to feel awkward with him right now.
You just need to silence your thoughts and feelings more efficiently. These slip-ups can’t keep happening.
“What will you have to drink?” he asks.
“I’m not telling you, because then you’ll get it for me and I decided I’m paying today,” you say, batting your eyelashes innocently at the male.
“I can just pay anyway, you know?” he laughs, making you shake your head.
“You don’t have to do that,” you hum. “Actually, I don’t want you to. You keep getting things for me, so I think this is the time to repay the favor.”
“Damn it,” he sighs. “That was me paying the Y/N subscription, though. How will I manage to make you keep hanging out with me now?” he jokes, shaking his head.
“Stupid,” you giggle, teasingly pushing him out of your way. “What will you get? And don’t say nothing, it’s my time to pay the Eric subscription fee.”
“I actually get paid in hugs and cuddles, so this doesn’t work on me,” the male shrugs, avoiding eye contact with you.
“Damn,” you hiss through your teeth, acting distraught. “That payment is long overdue, then. Wonder if they’ll come and take my house, or something.”
“I heard they won’t if you pay back what you owe,” he states casually.
How can he say such things with a straight face? Does he not realize just how much his sweet words affect you? Does he not know you feel like he has a magnet inside of him at all times that is begging to pull you in and glue you to his side, always and forever? Is he unaware of the effect his arms have on you whenever he puts them around your shoulders in public, or to the way your hands sweat whenever his fingers mindlessly drag themselves along the length of shoulder while doing so?
Or does he know and only wants to drive you crazier, more insane? Does he enjoy your misery?
“Hope it’s not a lot, then,” you joke, watching as the boy finally looks at you, eyes soft and glimmering, shoulders shrugging.
“I’ll hand the accounting over to you,” he says. “I trust that you’ll figure it out.”
Punching him in the shoulder lightly, you shake your head at his antics. “Peach iced tea, then?”
“How did you know?”
“You always get that one when you’re driving,” you say, walking up to the counter.
He lets you pay for the drink this time, eyes glued to your figure. You’re unaware of the way he watches you in the crowd, just as much as he is of the fact that he doesn’t have to fear an older, taller band guy stealing your attention away from him.
You come back to your friends with the drinks in hand just in time for the show to start. You watch the stage and grin at the sight of the frontman you just met having the time of his life during his gig, while the boy next to you watches your face every time a love song appears on the setlist. Neither of you are bold enough to dance together to the slow beats the way Izzy and Sunwoo are, lovingly gazing into each other’s eyes. You share knowing looks instead– growing shy when you hum the lyrics off the well-known songs Yeonjun’s band covers and the words get too intimate.
In the tune of love by wave to earth, though, when your heart skips a beat as Eric’s hand accidentally brushes against yours, you decide they wrote the song about him– not that you’ll ever admit that out loud.
The doorbell rings. Alone in the apartment, but knowing exactly who you’re expecting to see on the other side of the door– well, at least who you’re hoping to see– you shuffle towards the hall in your socked feet, taking your sweet time, your pace slow. There is not much energy stored in your body after today, and even though you wish to just bury yourself under the covers of your bed and sleep until you regain everything that your internship took away from you– until you don’t feel so bad about yourself and so defeated with your efforts– your small, fragile heart yearns for the presence of one person in particular, making you sheepishly order pizza through their website, because you know he has work today and there is no other way for you to see him.
Reaching for the handle, you open the door and reveal your busted appearance to Eric Sohn standing at your doorstep with a box of pizza in his hands, a light pink hoodie covering his figure, eyes big as the moon staring at you all expecting.
“So? How did it go?” he asks, genuinely hopeful. The boy has been suspicious of your mood ever since you got the final presentation on your internship over with and you didn’t instantly text him, telling him how it went– and the look he finds on your face only further proves his suspicions.
Your face morphs into a deep frown, trying to bite back your tears. His cheerful demeanor drops the moment he sees you struggling, not wasting a second as he shifts towards you and makes you back up into your apartment, putting the pizza box onto the coffee table in your hall before throwing his arms around your body, leading your grabby hands to hold on to the fabric of his sweater.
“It was terrible,” you sniffle, feeling the palm of his hand cradle your head into the crook of his shoulder, petting your slightly matted hair. A few tears escape your eyes and roll down your cheeks, making your whole body shake and tremble in his hold.
You don’t usually show how affected you are by disappointment. You feel a bit humiliated, a bit embarrassing for both flunking your presentation and also for showing your weakness in front of Eric, but his gentle nature and the comfort you feel in his sheer presence is enough for you to forget about the hurt. You try to focus on the warmth of his skin instead, on the way his arm soothingly runs down your back, making you ground yourself. There is not much you can tell him in your current position, words getting caught in your throat, but it’s still enough for him to understand.
“I worked so hard on it,” you mumble, “I tried so- I tried so hard, and then they said it w-was bad and–”
“Shh, it’s okay,” he hums, holding you closer to him.
You’re not used to not being instantly good at everything. It’s something you have yet to come to terms with after getting into university. You’re no longer the top of your class and you aren’t the best at all assignments and final exams you take anymore– and it’s a big kick to your ego. It makes you feel useless. It makes you feel stupid.
And that’s world-shattering. The image you once had of yourself is now taken forcefully away from your hands, replaced by disappointment and shame from the fact that you’re only mediocre and everything you thought about yourself up to this point was just a mere lie.
“Y/N, you tried your best. And I know you feel bad now, but I’m still proud of you for working so hard– it’s not your fault your efforts weren’t appreciated,” he says close to your ear, trying his hardest to be the calm after the storm for you.
After a few moments spent breathing in his scent, anchoring yourself to his presence, you force yourself to pull away from his chest. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, averting his gaze– because still, this is all so new to you and you don’t really know how to let yourself feel less foolish for your sudden outburst– you shrug and clear your throat.
“Uhm… thank you,” you mumble, “sorry for…”
“No,” he shakes his head, suddenly moving to take off his shoes. “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”
“You’re… Eric, you have work, you can’t just stay. I don’t want you to get in trouble–”
“They can’t fire me,” he chuckles, trying to make light of the situation. After you watch him with worried, guilty eyes– because even though the logical part of your brain is telling you to throw him out of your apartment and just go eat the pizza you ordered as you bite back your own tears, the emotional side of you really wants him here, it really wants him close. He moves towards you again and ruffles your hair, gentle eyes watching you, preventing you from protesting any further. “It’s okay, Y/N. You need me here more than they do tonight, trust me.”
“I feel bad now,” you mumble.
“I know,” he playfully notes, “that’s why I’m here. Besides, you’re more important than work anyway.”
“That’s a pretty fucked up list of priorities,” you laugh airly, trying to mask the way his words have your heart squeezing on itself, nervous gold swirling in your stomach.
“It works for me,” he shrugs.
The moment you move back towards your room, the realization of the fact that Eric’s never seen it before sinks in fully, suddenly making you nervous about the act. Everything feels strangely natural as he enters the space, though, feet shuffling towards your bed as he takes a seat on the comfy mattress. However, your eyes still nervously scan your room, chewing on your bottom lip as you wonder if the perception of you has changed after seeing the state of you, the state you live in. “I’m sorry, it’s kinda messy–”
“Y/N.”
Looking at him, noticing the encouraging, gentle gaze he offers you, everything around you shifts in its axis– the world stops, giving you a chance to breathe, a chance to exhale, and the weight slowly disappears off your shoulders.
“Relax,” he laughs softly as he reaches for your hand, tugging you towards him. Taking your place in between his legs, towering over the sweet creature in your bed, you feel like you can finally breathe more easily now that he’s here.
It’s okay, you realize. Magically, today no longer feels like the end of the world.
His thumb gently swipes across the back of your palm, making your insides turn into a putty, a soft smile slowly mirroring his appearing on your previously frowning face.
“I’d like to, uh..” you clear your throat, shying away from his gaze, “pay back the missed subscription fees then, if I can.”
Your bold statement has the room fall into an overbearing silence. For a moment, you forget it’s Eric who you’re with– the man that never judges you, the only one that makes you feel safe– as you go into a momentary panic. When you dare to look at him again, though, you notice him eagerly searching for your gaze, a boyish smile playing with his lips showing you that he doesn’t mind you asking– quite the opposite, really. He enjoys the preposition.
The male leans back in your bed and watches you as you climb next to him. For a moment, you don’t really know what to do, being too shy to hold onto him the way you truly want to, but the male wastes no time as he shuffles a bit in your sheets and moves to his side. One of his arms sneaks around your middle, pulling you to him, as his leg carelessly swings over your feet, trapping you in. His whole body weight rests against your figure, but it does nothing to suffocate you or take air out of your lungs– quite the opposite, really.
You feel content in his hold. Your hand instinctively holds onto his forearm, keeping him close. If you could, you’d crawl into his skin, make a home in his chest and stay there, protected from all bad. What you don’t realize is that there’s a little fort in his heart reserved as a house for you already– one he guards and lets no one into– the unspoken, tender words now hanging everywhere around the corners of your room.
“The pizza will get cold, though,” he mumbles, tone of voice low from the close proximity of him next to you, the desire to protect the intimacy showing through the hushed out words.
“I’m not hungry,” you say lazily– exposing him to the fact that it’s not the food you needed tonight when you were ordering. “I kinda feel sleepy, though” you admit, letting your eyes rest a bit. You’ve been restless ever since you came home from work today– you didn’t know all you needed to finally turn off your endless stream of thoughts was Eric’s presence.
“Sleep, then,” he hums. “I’ll heat it up for you when you wake up.”
You let out a disapproving sound.
“You need sleep. And also food,” he scolds you, his other hand somehow sneaking itself under your figure and into your hair again, playing with the strands and scratching at your scalp. “You’ve been stressing out for so long, no wonder you’re so worn out right now.”
You feel like you’ve been laid bare, exposed right in front of his eyes. You feel naked and fully vulnerable, but you make no effort to shield yourself from his gaze, for it’s not prying and unwanted, but gentle and caring– so much to the point you feel like it’s going to consume you. Your head spins and your heart aches with deep yearning– it’s strange.
You already know what that feeling is:
You’re falling, falling, and falling.
All there’s left is to hope he won’t drop you. All there is left is to hope he’ll catch you on your way down.
Your body shifts so it’s facing him, your breathing mixed. Your faces are inches away from each other, making you afraid to open your eyes and study him from up close– for you think he knows how to read you too well by now, and your lingering gaze would tell him too much. Eyes don’t lie, after all– they never do.
“You did well,” he hums.
The shattered pieces of your tender heart spill themselves into his outstretched palms. You watch as he mends them together, sewing them with an invisible, red string. The boy silently leans into your face and his lips press a gentle kiss to your cheek, only further strengthening your decision to stay blind in the moment, not wanting to reveal just how much you’re affected by the tender action.
It’s been a long drop– a slow one, one you could get used to. Still, you’re falling, falling and falling,
And even though you’re unaware, he’s there all this time, waiting at the bottom, his arms open wide.
The idea of celebrating the end of the exam season with Izzy, Eric and Sunwoo by going bowling is quickly and forcefully taken out of your hands when you arrive at Sohn's Pizza to pick the boys up, all dressed up and ready. The place is full of people, there is screaming coming out of the kitchen, and while usually, Eric or Sunwoo would be greeting you by coming out of the back and welcoming you in, there is no one in your sight– which makes you just the tiniest bit suspicious.
Sharing a concerned look with your roommate, the two of you curiously walk through the place and peek behind the counter, being met with emptiness as more screaming resonates through the kitchen. You don’t mean to intrude or listen in on a conversation you’re not exactly invited to, you really don’t– but you just can’t help it as the sound of Eric’s angry, frustrated voice cuts through the space, catching not only your attention, but also everyone else’s in the restaurant.
“I don’t care that dad is too scared to hire someone into our sacred family business!” he huffs. “I don’t give a single flying fuck, because now, our plans are ruined again, all because they decided to go on a surprise holiday and they left us three to deal with the whole place!” Eric ironically sings the words ‘surprise holiday’ as he expresses his frustration, showing how much the whole situation bothers him.
“Eric, calm down, people can hear you–” you hear Lisa muttering, making you chuckle at the interaction between the siblings.
“So if dad wants to go on a holiday ever again, he either hires someone so we don’t have to be here 24/7, or I quit!” he finishes his little rant.
There is a moment of silence behind the thin walls, making you and Izzy stare at each other with a blank look– a look empty, but full of understanding that there is no bowling happening today and there is nothing you can really do about it– before the sound of dishes hitting the floor hits your ears, making you wince. The fall is followed by a pained voice full of misery.
“FUCK!”
Izzy chuckles, opening the door to the kitchen without much hesitance, inviting the two of you into the chaotic situation. Taking a step towards the room behind the staff only sign which you ignore because Izzy thinks she’s basically a part of the family now, you look around a bit anxiously, being met with the sight of Eric picking up bowls and pans from the floor and throwing them back into the sink to wash, Sunwoo adding topics to a pizza with furrowed brows and his bottom lip jolted out (clearly sulking), and Lisa checking up on the food in the oven.
All three pairs of eyes are glued to you the moment the sound of the door opening fills the space, two sets lighting up and the third one looking at you with pure curiosity.
“Need any help around here?” Izzy chuckles, looking around. The place is messy– covered with sauce in some places, flour all over Sunwoo’s apron, soap and water dripping down the cleaning station. It’s clear as hell the three of them aren’t handling the after-exam Friday rush well by themselves, and although you mourn the idea of relaxing in a bowling alley with your friends after the hard weeks of finals, you can’t say you’re too disappointed.
You can’t play bowling, after all, and you still get to see your friends– so it’s no big deal.
“No, you don’t have to–” Eric starts, ever-so considerate.
“It’s okay, we just–” Sunwoo follows, the two boys not wanting to share the responsibility that’s not yours.
After hearing each other interrupting their dismissive words, the two look at each other and chuckle. “I’m afraid we can’t hang out today, though. As you can see, our parents left the place to us and went on a holiday–”
“We heard,” you cut the owner’s son off, a teasing grin on your face shutting the boy up instantly, to which he offers you a shy look as he drowns his hands in the sink again, trying to tackle the dishes.
Walking over to the poor boy reminding you a little of a wet dog now, since his bangs are damp as well, making you believe he’s been running his hands through in frustration mid-washing up– you take a kitchen towel off one of the shelves and decide to dry off the plates he’s done scrubbing, putting them away neatly on one of the trays situated next to the sink and getting them ready for the next customers. You don’t really ask what to help with, since you’re sure Eric and Sunwoo wouldn’t tell you either– feeling bad for making you work with them instead of taking you out like they promised they would– you only tackle what seems to be the most important task in the moment, helping out the best you can.
“Izzy, I’m really sorry for exploiting you,” Lisa starts out, making the whole room laugh out at her joke, “but for a free pizza or maybe even two, would you mind doing the waitressing for a bit? I fear people out there are mad as hell, but maybe if you tell them we are short on staff today–”
“I’m on it!” your roommate nods and salutes to the older girl, disappearing back into the main area of the pizza place. Since she has some experience with waitressing and working in the food service, you doubt there is anything to worry about.
The kitchen quiets down, the only sounds heard being from the sink, an occasional sigh escaping Sunwoo’s throat– he really must have been looking forward to this day– the atmosphere growing less heavy and hectic with two more pairs of hands in the building. You know they don’t want to admit it, but the boys are secretly glad for the help– it makes working so much easier and less nerve-wrecking to the employed youngsters.
“I’m sorry,” falls out of between Eric’s lips after a while, low and sincere. You look at him from your place to the left of his figure, furrowing your brows at him in question.
“Huh?” you voice out, watching him shrug.
“Well, we were supposed to hang out today and now we can’t, so…” the boy trails off, making you chuckle and coo at him, touched with his sincerity.
“That’s not really your fault, so I don’t see why you’re apologizing,” you say, “besides, we are still hanging out now, no? I don’t mind the location change,” you smile, slightly bumping your hip into his, the kitchen towel now getting damper and damper with the amount of dishes you’ve dried off with it in such a small time frame.
The two of you continue on with the task, all while playfully bumping hips from time to time, trying to catch the other one off guard with the contact, grins shared between the two of you. You barely register Izzy coming in and out of the kitchen, telling the cook– Sunwoo– the new orders, Eric and you pulled into your own bubble, attention focused mostly on each other, then at the otherwise domestic act accompanying you in your interaction.
“Exams went well?” Eric asks.
Nodding, you hum in agreement. “Some were harder than others, but I didn’t fail any, so that’s a win. You?”
“About the same,” he grins. “I mean, the grades aren’t great, but I passed all of them, so…”
You laugh at his comment, shaking your head at his attitude. You wish you could take school and all of its responsibilities with as much ease as your friend does– too bad you’re an anxious over-achiever and don’t really know how to relax ever.
“Academic weapon,” you joke.
“Oh, that’s your title,” he says as he finally scrubs off the last plate and turns the tap off, placing it into your hands to dry, “I don’t even try, because I don’t wanna take it away from you,” he jokes.
“So considerate,” you muse, rolling your eyes at him. The boy wipes his hands on the towel hanging off your arm, the two of you sharing a playful look– Eric’s eyes swirling with honey and gold inside, making you all warm and fuzzy. You find it hard to look away.
The noise of someone suddenly clearing their throat catches you off guard and pops the soap bubble you’ve been trapped in with your friend, making you look at the source, curious what his sister has to say. She is looking at the two of you with a teasing smirk on her face that instantly makes your cheeks burn– for you know you were caught staring too much, too long at her younger brother– before she points to the pizza boxes in front of her, towering so much they almost topple over and drown her in the baked dough and cheese.
“I need you two to do the deliveries,” she muses, “if you don’t mind, of course.”
Shaking your head, showing that you’re completely fine with the task, the two of you walk over towards the impressive pizza tower. Eric takes the bigger half into his hands while Lisa puts the car keys onto the box on top of your smaller stack, sending you a knowing look that you try to ignore.
Walking out of the place, noting that one person could very well do the deliveries alone after loading up the car, but also realizing that even though you could be more needed inside, you kinda wanna spend more time with Eric, you wait for him to shut the car door and tell you the next instructions.
“I think the most efficient way to do this is one of us driving and the other one going up to the doors with the orders,” he muses, watching you nod in understanding. “I can drive, if you want?”
Chewing on the inside of your cheek, not really happy with the mental image of talking to so many people tonight, you huff. “I kinda wanna drive, though…?” you peep.
The male stares at you for a few seconds– as if contemplating if you’re safe enough of a driver, or something– before he places the key into your hand and closes your palm, entrusting you with… pretty much his life, if you really think about it. In his defense, it only takes one wrong turn and both of you could be dead– but he seemingly believes in your abilities.
After you get into the driver’s seat and adjust it to your liking, making sure you can see in all of the mirrors, you pull out of the parking lot with ease, turning with Eric’s directions. You see him watching the map on his phone, making sure you know where to go in time to not turn this drive into an amateur redemption of The fast and the furious: Tokyo drift. You drive smoothly, getting to the destination in short time, stopping in front of the targeted house and watching as your friend gets out of the car with a few pizza boxes, jogging up to the front door.
The sight makes you remember how you met him a few months ago. It makes you chuckle, noticing how much has changed– you didn’t even want pizza that night, but today, you’re driving him in his car, watching as he makes the deliveries.
“No strange notes asking for cute delivery boys?” you joke when he gets to the car and tells you to drive straight until he says to turn right, making him chuckle.
“No, not really,” he shakes his head, “but I think it’s funny how Sunwoo didn’t get to go, yet it still landed him a girlfriend.”
“I mean, they were both pretty desperate,” you admit, chuckling. Your foolish brain can’t help but wonder– what if it could land both of them a girlfriend? What if you were bold enough to confess your feelings one day?
“True,” he nods, “they go well together.”
“It’s still miserable to watch them interact sometimes, though,” you joke.
“I’m sorry, I tried my hardest to prevent it,” he muses.
Furrowing your brows, you look at him in confusion only for a second before you focus back on the road. “Huh?”
“I physically fought Sunwoo so I could go deliver those pizzas to your house back then,” he grins. “Back then, it was because I genuinely believed I was the cuter one, but I think that somehow, I kind of felt it, y’know? Like, intuition. It was telling me ‘Eric, don’t let Sunwoo deliver those pizzas, because then your friend will get into a relationship and make every second with him miserable, because he can’t shut up about his new girlfriend–”
You cut him off by laughing, shaking your head at his antics. Eric points towards a street, hinting that you should turn, having you follow his orders.
“I like your confidence,” you say, “but to be fair, seeing you show up at my door was kind of crazy, after all these years.”
“You make it sound as if you disagree with me,” he casually utters out.
Your hands sweat on the steering wheel. Maybe you should swerve off the road and drive into a tree so you can avoid this conversation.
“Maybe I do,” you shrug, thankful that driving makes it easier for you to avert your gaze from him and not make it seem like you’re forcefully avoiding him.
“So we’re just gonna ignore the fact that you called me the hottest–”
“If you don’t shut up, I’m crashing the car–” you threaten, your voice coming out a bit more miserable-sounding than you intended it to, showing just how not casual the whole situation was for you.
“Look, you don’t have to be shy about it, we both know–”
“Okay, passenger princess,” you shut him off, watching as the boy next to you has a visceral reaction to your comment.
“I literally offered to drive!”
“Whatever you say,” you muse as you make the car stop at the next destination and let Eric out to complete another delivery.
After the boy jumps inside of the car again, he ignores the previous topic of the conversation. That fact makes you happy, since you don’t really know if you’re ready to face the problem at hand– the problem being the very obvious and strong, magnetizing feelings you have for the boy– so you only continue to drive, listening to the radio he puts on and his occasional humming that he slides in through the directions he gives you.
He continues to deliver all the pizzas they baked when he announces that you’re approaching the last destination. You can’t say you’re happy about the fact– since you started to quite enjoy the comfort of the drive, but you guess you can’t really prolong the moment any more and force it to last forever, no matter how much you’d like it to.
Eric walks out of the car with the last three boxes in his hands, knocking on the door. The commotion lasts longer than usual, making you suspicious of the interaction he has with the man at the door, before you see the boy shrugging and walking back to the car, one pizza box still in his hands. To say you’re confused would be an understatement.
“What happened? Did we mess up somehow?” you ask, motioning towards the pizza box in his hands.
“I don’t think it was us who messed up,” Eric snickers, “apparently, they only ordered two pizzas, so I think Sunwoo accidentally made three.”
“Oh,” you hum, nodding in acknowledgement.
“But that’s fine, because that means we can have this one for free,” the boy grins at you as he puts on his seatbelt. “Let’s move a few blocks so we don’t just stay in front of this dude’s house, though.”
You furrow your brows at him, but still start the engine nonetheless. “Shouldn’t we head back? I bet we should hurry, from how packed it was, they surely need our help–”
There is a lack of worry in Eric’s face as he shakes his head in disapproval. It seems that neither of you really want to go back to Sohn’s Pizza and work– because it’s not as fun as driving around together, singing along to the radio– but the lack of empathy towards his sister and his friends surprises you. “I’m sure they will survive a few more minutes. Come on, Y/N, the bowling didn’t work out, so let me make it up for you at least this way.”
His pleading voice does enough to persuade you as you drive down the street and then a few more blocks to the left, trying to find a calm place where you could park the car and won’t bother anyone as you eat the remaining pizza, while also trying to forget about Lisa, Izzy and Sunwoo alone in the pizzeria working their asses off. You feel a bit guilty with the idea in your brain, but you try to push it back with the image of spending more time alone with Eric– and suddenly, the previous is almost too easy to ignore.
Little did you know that this was Lisa’s plan all along. While you may be a bad wingman, Eric’s sister surely isn’t.
Stopping in front of one of the houses that seems to be empty, turning the engine off and undoing your seatbelt, you spin around to face Eric as he opens the pizza box and gasps at the sight of the cheesy dough. “I’m pretty sure this was fate, man,” he shakes his head in disbelief. “There’s no way we are left with your favorite. Extra cheesy too, damn...”
“This is unbelievable,” you agree, playfully clasping your hands together in prayer. “Thank you universe for the sign. You were right, we were supposed to stay out longer.”
“I’m always right,” he nods, watching as you eagerly take a triangle off the greasy cardboard and bite down into it, your taste buds cheering in joy as you chew on the treat.
Eric is quick to follow as he takes one for himself as well, the two of you falling into a comfortable silence as you eat. You didn’t even realize you were hungry before– your intentions being to eat at the bowling alley– and so you welcome this idea even more now that your stomach is less upset. Crossing your legs on the seat, not really caring about getting the car dirty– which in retrospect, you should’ve– you hum before you speak up again, already on your second piece.
“If you were a pizza, you’d be this exact pizza right here,” you hum. You don’t really know where that idea came from, but you think you’re speaking the truth– in your mind, it makes total sense.
Eric stares at you like a confused puppy, a slight grin appearing on his face showing you that he’s trying to see where that came from. “Why?” he asks. “Because you love me?”
Here it is again– the heat appearing on your cheeks from the panic, embarrassment filling your veins. You feel like you were caught in the act, like he sees right through you– with how he’s been acting the whole evening, you think he might have some sort of intuition. Still, you won’t admit to your feelings out loud– because there’s no way they’re reciprocated, and you won’t cause such a heartbreak to yourself willingly.
Eric is just social like that. He is sweet, playful. There is no undertone to his actions– it’s just who he is as a person, and there is no way he likes you back.
“No,” you cough out, almost choking on the pizza. “You’d be a margherita, because it’s a safe choice. Everyone likes a margherita! It’s fun, and it’s–”
“Tasty?” he interrupts you, a shit-eating grin already plastered onto his lips. “I taste good too, wanna check?”
You think he might be teasing you just for the fun of it now. He loves to feed on your misery, because he sees right through you, he knows you’re absolutely, incredibly enchanted by him, and it strokes his ego to rile you up and make you flustered. You’re sure of it now. “Oh, shut it!”
Eric laughs out loud before he swallows another bite, shrugging. “If you were a pizza, you’d be hawaiian.”
“Hm? Why?” you ask, busying yourself with chewing on the cheesy dough in your hold.
“Because you are both salty and sweet,” he starts, “and I didn’t expect to be so into it.”
His words make you stop in your tracks. He didn’t expect to be so into it. Does he mean he’s into you, or are you just reading too much into his words? Trying not to seem too affected by his words– trying to play it casual, nonchalant– you clear your throat and avert your gaze from him, continuing to chew. The pizza in your mouth loses all its flavor the longer you focus on it, turning into a mass of nothing to your taste buds. After the last bite, you’re left mortified with the realization that you have nothing to focus your attention to now, if you don’t want to face your friend again and take another slice in between your fingers from the pizza box resting in his lap, and so you just continue to stare ahead, beaten up by the awkward silence.
Play it cool, Y/N. Be normal. He must think you’re weird now, because you wondered even for a second if his joke was serious, and now he won’t want to hang out with you ever again–
“So, uhm, just checking,” Eric awkwardly laughs, something about his tone sounding nervous in your ears. “Are you really still that oblivious, or are you just pretending you didn’t catch that to not hurt my feelings because you don’t like me back…?” he asks.
Your heart does a somersault. Hell, you think you just went into cardiac arrest– your ears are ringing, your stomach is floating on water and your breathing quickens with his words. Having a full visceral reaction does nothing to help you speak back to him, but your body reacts on itself as you snap your head to the side and finally look at him, gazing into his big, honest eyes.
He looks at you in a similar way he did back at that party– expecting, hopeful. You didn’t catch it back then– the eager, desperate look in his orbs, wishing, praying you chose him in a room full of people, picked him in a row of anyone who would like to have you. It leaves you weak, it leaves you feeling like you were just punched in your face with the realization that you’ve been foolish to ever think that this was just how Eric acts and there was nothing more to his acts of care and affection.
“I- uh… I just didn’t expect you to like me back…?” you say, making it sound like a question, still uncertain about the whole situation. “I thought you were just…” you trail off, pupils shaking as you watch the boy’s face morph out of nervousness into a bright, amused smile.
“Look, I’m– I just–” you stutter, not really knowing what else to say, how else to express yourself.
Eric was always much quicker than you, much more clever in social situations. He takes your lack of words as a hint as he holds onto your honest, surprised state and takes it upon himself to solidify the reality for you, to show you what the two of you’ve been missing for the last couple of months. Reaching over the gearstick, he gently glazes your cheek with his palm before he sends a one last look to your eyes, watching out for any sign of discomfort.
His lips lock with yours. You’re convinced the world stopped turning.
Eric Sohn is sweet like cherry cola. He is a taste of familiarness with something more to it, something new and fresh, sugary and addictive. He is gentle, with an exciting aftertaste, leaving you breathless and wanting more. He is like a hint of home, a memory of your childhood, all safe and loving and tender.
The kiss is short. It has you leaning towards him, a handful of his hoodie filling up your fist as you desperately, foolishly drag him to you and press your lips to his again, as if to check if the last kiss was real and you didn’t just make it up in your mind by wishful thinking.
You guess you finally reached the bottom after the long, slow fall. You don’t even feel the landing as his arms hold you up and spin you around instead, showing you that falling in love doesn’t have to be all that scary– if the one you want is caring, if the one you want is nothing short of an angel in your eyes.
After you pull away from him, he rests his forehead against yours and enjoys the proximity which he doesn’t have to hide the need for anymore– now that he’s all yours to keep and you’re all his to hold.
“You really thought I didn’t like you back? Hell, Y/N, you’re all I ever think about,” he scoffs, showing you the ridiculousness of your own beliefs, his ever-so playful tone only further solidifying the sweet aftertaste of his confession. “I like, have butterflies in my stomach and all,” he confides, grinning at you.
Rolling your eyes, finally easing into the new territory, you tease him for his words. “That was extra cheesy.”
“I thought you liked that?”
Gazing into his eyes, feeling your own heartbeat hammering against your chest, you can’t help but chuckle at the subtle irony of it all.
➺ Summary: You befriend your college’s resident fuckboy who’s been eager to get with you since day one. But after a rollercoaster of emotions between your friendship, he wants you more than you could ever imagine.
➺ Word Count: 4k (wow who is she?!)
➺ Warnings: Smut (18+, minors DNI), friends to lovers, mentions of partying, drinking alcohol, fuckboy tendencies (flirting, hookups, ghosting), lying to reader (at first), lots of kissing and making out, dry humping, oral (f! receiving), slight handjob and masturbation, unprotected sex (but he pulls out), aftercare, pet names (sweetheart, baby), a lovesick Juyeon
➺ A/N: I’m officially back from my break! Really wanted to take some time off and focus on things irl, can’t really say if the break helped bcos I was still stressed haha but anyway!This took me a while to finish up, felt incredibly rusty writing again but glad I was still able to do it 😭 Considering this as my late birthday greeting for Juyeon. Hope you enjoy this piece! Proofread once. Let me know if I missed anything!
➺ Network & Tag: @deoboyznet, and my girlies @aimeecarreros @snowflakewhispers @winterchimez
If anyone told you that you’d end up becoming best friends with one of the most sought out guys in your campus (and not to mention resident fuck boy), you would’ve laughed at their face. All your life you’ve tried to avoid befriending guys like Juyeon. A guy like him just generally gave you the ick.
You never understood how or why people would want to be friends with someone whose only objective is to get into girl’s pants and be praised for it. Not only that, but also playing with someone’s feelings and just dropping them at an instant was wrong on so many levels.
But here you are, lending him a helping hand while you two clean out his living room after throwing yet another one of his bi-weekly parties, which was usually code for “Please let me at least make out with someone tonight.”
It’s crazy how you consider him one of your bestest friends. In another world you both knew this friendship would never work out. You were both opposite of each other in so many ways!
So how did you even end up becoming friends with Juyeon?
Transferring to a different university in the middle of the semester was one of the worst things that could've happened to you. Not only did you have to adjust to a new set of lesson plans and navigate your way around campus, but you also had to sit alone during lunch since practically everyone already knew each other from freshman year and had their own set of cliques.
During your first week, you thought you could at least find a table you could sit with just by going up to the group you vibed with the most and ask politely. But you decided to just sit by yourself instead and avoid any embarrassing introductions. You refused to be known as the weird new girl (which you already felt like one to begin with.)
You tried to fight off the tears emerging from the corners of your eyes as you sat quietly in the corner of the cafeteria, slowly poking the food on your tray as you try to drown out the noise around you.
You wish you didn’t have to transfer and leave everything and everyone you knew behind. Yes, you can still call or text your friends, but you knew it was different than actually being with them on campus.
You were convinced you’d be alone for the rest of your years in college. No friends to hang out, laugh, or cry with. No one to go through the same struggles as you. No one to tell you that everything was going to be okay. You were definitely on your own until-
“Hey.” The voice suddenly snapping you out of your self-loathing as you look up and see probably one of the most handsome men you have ever seen in your life.
The way his eyes held so much love, how his smile could light up anyone’s day, and how his aura was something you never felt with anyone before. He was practically radiating sunshine to your already gloomy day. It almost felt too good to be true… Because what the hell was he doing here in front of you?
“…Hi?” You sit up straight as you try to subtly dab off the tears in your eyes.
“I couldn't help but notice you sitting here all alone.” The man gently says.
Great, the first thing he notices about you is how much of a loser you are. But before you could even say anything back he continues on.
“Would you like to come sit with us? We have some space for you at our table.” He slowly smiles at you. You hesitated at first, confused by the whole situation but quickly made up your mind.
“Uh… yeah, sure! If it’s not any trouble.” You shyly respond.
“Of course not! Can’t let a pretty thing like you be all alone on her first week here right?” He holds out his hand to you.
“How did you-”
“I’m Juyeon.” He interrupts you again. You tell him your name, your cheeks slowly warming up as your hand intertwines with his as he looks deeply into your eyes.
“Beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” He smirks. You felt the butterflies raging within your stomach.
“So, let’s go?” He waits for your response, but you shyly nod your head instead as proper words get caught up in your throat. Grabbing his hand as you stand up and follow his lead.
You try not to make a fool out of yourself as you feel Juyeon’s hand rest on your lower back as you guides you through the sea of people. As you two are walking towards his table he leans close to your ear and whispers,
“We’re gonna be best friends, I promise.”
And ever since that day Juyeon really did keep his promise. He helped you catch up with some of the lesson plans you had, guided you around school, and always made sure to leave a space for you beside him during lunch.
You tried to wrap your brain around the idea of how someone like Juyeon just randomly entered your life and swept you off your feet. At first you felt like you were on cloud nine getting the most attention and almost boyfriend-like treatment from him. But as the weeks went by you soon discover that his reputation actually preceded him more than you thought.
You see, it was no secret that Juyeon was somewhat of a playboy. Well, somewhat was an understatement. During the first few weeks since you became friends he would walk you to class almost every time. In those moments you couldn’t understand why people would give you such weird looks or whisper to each other whenever you two would pass by.
Maybe it was because you stuck out like a sore thumb as the new girl? You decided not to mind it for a while, pushing down the thought that you were just overthinking all of this… that is until you accidentally learned about his reputation and the real reason why he approached you that day.
It was an accident. You were never meant to find out anything about Juyeon. But during a party that he brought you to, a certain loosed-lip drunk friend (Eric) decided to spill everything to you, down to every letter and detail imaginable.
To be honest, it didn’t bother you when you found out that Juyeon was indeed a fuck boy. You saw the signs as the weeks passed by.
The way he would flirt with someone while waiting for you to finish class, how the notifications on his phone would show a name of a different girl every week, and even the subtle touches he would leave on you which were definitely not considered friendly but not perverted either. What bothered you the most was finding out the reason why he even wanted to be friends with you.
“He’s been really working up to have his way with you, you know? And I mean who could blame him? Have you seen yourself? You’re so fucking hot-” Eric rambles on to you as he tries to lean his body against the wall to keep himself upright, slowly inching his way closer to you. You felt your blood boil in that moment, completely ignoring Eric’s advances.
How could Juyeon do this to you? Even after everything you shared with him about your life, your struggles, your secrets too? And to think you were starting to feel like he could be a really great friend to you. But this? Hell no. You were not about to let some handsome sleazy guy use you like that. Not in this or any lifetime.
You nearly crush the plastic red cup in your hand before storming out of the house, intentionally pushing past Juyeon’s shoulder in the way as he tries to approach you with the most concerned look you had ever seen on his face.
He ran after you that night. He even dropped on his knees begging for forgiveness in front of a crowd of drunk college people too. Over the top sure, but somehow you knew his apology wasn’t just a one and done thing.
And after the humiliating lecture you gave him as well as the list of promises he had said he will be doing in order to make up for his mistakes, you decided to give him another chance.
In return of accepting his apology, you offered to help him get out of his fuck boy tendencies and be his “guardian angel”. Juyeon was reluctant of the idea at first because it would mean he couldn’t be free to do as he pleased but he eventually gave in. He had to because well… He did owe you a lot for lying to you in the first place.
Somewhere in your mind you knew this could turn out to be a bad idea. Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me, or however the saying goes. But Juyeon was different.
You knew somewhere in that deep conceited mind of his there was a version of him that was actually a good guy. A guy that can actually learn how to not fool around and maybe one day, find someone worth changing for.
You can tell it was a struggle for him at the beginning. But eventually he started to lessen the flirting, the hookups, the ghosting, and more.
Gone were the days where Juyeon had a line of women wrapped around his fingers (because they were too many of them to count). Dating was still a thing for him, but he had said and even showed you that he would take them seriously and not just move onto the next one as easily as he did before.
Eventually you realized over time that Juyeon turning over a new leaf was also becoming a struggle for you especially at parties when he would come up to you nearly drunk out of his mind, his subconscious would revert back to his old habits and he would act them all out on you.
His hands subtly snaking around your hips, your waist, how he would brush the hair off your neck and leave a warm kiss on shoulder. The way he would smile at you like a lovesick fool, never leaving your side as he attempts to drop his corny pickup lines.
Or the way he would jokingly confess how badly he wanted to kiss you. You knew he wasn’t in the right state of mind, that he was just being his old self. But it really did confuse you because sometimes it felt all too real.
Now you understood why someone could fall so easily for Juyeon. It was second nature to him.
You tried so hard not to give into his appetite especially in those moments. But it was becoming difficult each time since you the crush you had on him from the first day you met was screaming to be set free, desperate to overtake your heart and soul and just allow him to do as he pleased, no matter the consequences.
The many “what-if’s” that crossed your mind when you were alone in your room at night had plagued you constantly. Your walls were starting to crack and it was making you lose your self control around him.
“Maybe one little kiss wouldn’t hu-” No. You shouldn’t. The whole point of staying friends with Juyeon was to guide him to being a better person. It wasn’t about you or how you felt at all!
But… how bad could it be to become selfish just one moment in your life?
“Wow, I’m so tired.” Juyeon plops down on the sofa as you finish up collecting all the empty bottles and cups around the room. After the last bottle was thrown inside the trash bag you washed your hands and plopped right next to him.
You instantly close your eyes and let out a huge sigh of relief, showing the same exhaustion as he felt. As you stay silent and enjoy this quiet moment, Juyeon can’t help but just stare at you. He watches how your chest slowly moves up and down and tries to commit to memory the little details of your face.
You look so beautiful right now, he thinks to himself. As you always have since the first time he saw you. But he pushes down the feeling deep within his gut, having given up pursuing you a while back. But it doesn't hurt to look every once in a while right?
As soon as you open your eyes again, you catch him staring at you with a look in his eyes you can’t quite read. You chuckle at how silly he’s being and turn your body slightly to face him.
“What?” You ask.
“I-It’s nothing.” He shakes his head.
“C’mon, what is it? You can tell me.” You semi pout, and how can Juyeon say no to you?
“I was thinking-”
“Oh no he’s thinking.” You fake gasp and giggle as he playfully nudges your shoulder in return.
“It’s just- I still can’t believe how we ended up as friends despite everything, you know?” He smiles gently.
“Me too.” You respond, “To be honest, if I had known about your reputation before we met I would’ve rejected you that day.”
“Yeah?” Juyeon’s eyes grow wider as he scoots closer to you. He places his hand on your knee, making you become nervous all of a sudden. “And why is that?”
“W-well…” you feel a lump forming in your throat, the way his cologne invades your thoughts and has your head slowly spinning. Is it getting hot in here or is that just you?
“Because, guys like you just aren’t my type that’s all. And well-”
“Can I tell you a secret?” Juyeon interrupts you as he looks into your eyes. You nod in response.
“I haven't been with anyone else ever since that night you confronted me about my behavior.” He pauses for a moment. Dead silence filled the air as he waited for your response while you tried to grasp what he was trying to say.
“Huh? What about that girl you were with last week? Or the one you were texting?” You softly ask.
“I... I lied about them.” Juyeon looks away from you, afraid to look at your reaction. He looks up at the ceiling, pushing down any regret he’s feeling at the moment admitting the truth to you.
“But, why?” Your voice laced with concern.
“It felt wrong to be with those girls. To even think about kissing or touching them the way I would've back then, because…” He looks back at you, his hand on your knee now traveling up to your lap.
“…All I ever thought about in those moments was you.”
You felt your heart running a mile a minute. Eyes widening at his sudden confession.
“God you’re so beautiful it kills me inside.” he raises his hand and cups your jaw, thumb slowly stroking your cheek as his gaze turns into something more than just lust.
You subtly catch him quickly looking at your lips, your eyes nearly fluttering shut as he leans in closer. And with your lips just millimeters apart, he suddenly stops.
“But who am I kidding? I know you don’t see me that way-” Juyeon retracts his head, his face expressing a certain kind of sadness you can’t seem to properly label. You can feel your heart pounding in your ears as you watch him slowly slip away from you.
“Juyeon I-”
“It’s alright, I’m probably drunk. Just- forget what I said.” He shakes his head, but before he can attempt to get up from the couch, you grab his wrist. “No.” You sternly say.
Juyeon slowly sits back down on the couch and scoots really close to you, thighs pressing against one another. His eyes don’t leave yours, waiting for what you have to say or do.
“S-show me. Show me you mean it. Every word you just said.”
“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for you to tell me that.” Juyeon lunges forward and wastes no time as he leans in to kiss you. His pillowy lips feeling like heaven as he guides your lips with his, both melting into one another like it was always meant to be.
As your arms start to wrap around his neck Juyeon pulls you in closer, his body slowly falls backwards onto the couch. His hands desperately grabbing your hips to make you straddle his lap.
Juyeon whimpers into your mouth as soon as his straining bulge rubs against your core. His member throbs harder as you begin to roll your hips subconsciously.
He’s fucked way too many times to count but for some reason, grinding yourself onto his crotch makes him feel like an untouched virgin all over again.
He swears he can burst inside his boxers any second now if you keep doing this to him, especially with the soft little moans coming out of your mouth that sound so sweet.
Juyeon pulls away from your lips and starts to kiss your neck, mapping out his kisses until he finds the spot that makes you melt into a puddle. He knows he’s found that spot as your moans become louder and drag on longer.
He starts to wrap his arms around your torso and without warning, he flips you both over, making you squeal as he giggles at your reaction. His eager hands waste no time to unbutton your jeans as he continues to leave marks on your neck. You slightly push him away as you feel him slowly sneaking one hand into your pants.
“Wait-” You grab his wrist before he goes any further.
“Do you want to stop?” He waits for your answer.
“No it’s not that.” Your eyes close for a moment as you catch your breath.
“It’s- well- It’s been a while I've since done this. I- I might not be good for you.” Juyeon senses the worry in your eyes. He leans down to kiss the space between your eyebrows, his free hand caressing your cheek.
“Oh sweetheart… you’ll always be too good for me.” He smiles down at you. “You sure you still want this?” You nod your head instantly.
“Use your words baby, need to hear you say it. Tell me what you want.” His hand travels to your neck and gives it a soft squeeze. The act alone is enough to get you dizzy again.
“Want you- want you to touch me, please.” You look up at him so innocently.
Juyeon leans in to kiss you passionately once more, his tongue immediately intertwining with yours. He helps you out of your pants in the process not wanting to pull his lips away from yours until he tugs the hem of your shift and lifts it off, leaving you wearing nothing but your underwear on.
His kisses start to travel oh so slowly from your lips all the way to your inner thighs. Juyeon can feel himself pre cumming at the deep inhale of your panty covered core. The wet patch luring him in to kiss it and practically mouth your covered folds.
You let out yet another ethereal moan as your fingers weave through his hair. His hands slowly pull the garter of your underwear down, throwing the damp material behind him as he continues on with his ministrations.
Juyeon wastes no time and grabs the back of your thighs and placing them over his shoulder, making sure that his face is locked onto your throbbing core. He kisses your folds before suddenly darting his warm wet tongue between them, reveling in the taste of you before flicking your sensitive bud. He looks up to watch your reactions, which motivate him to keep on going.
“P-please…” You whine as he hums and sucks on your clit. Juyeon doesn’t even need you to tell him what you want, by the sound of your moans and the way your thighs slowly squeeze his head he knows you’re getting closer to the edge.
He nearly lets go himself when you reach your high without warning, the sudden burst of your essence onto his lips as you moan out his name was something he never thought would feel so divine.
He pulls himself up and goes back to kissing you, tasting yourself on his tongue has your core throbbing for him once again. Your hands hastily helping him unbutton his own pants along with his boxers as he pulls them down and kicks them to the side.
Your mouth waters at the sight of his impressive length, your hand instantly wrapping around his member as you stroke him slowly. “Oh s-shit.” He growls into your ear.
“Want you inside me Juyeon, want you to fuck me.” You whisper in his ear. He grabs your wrist to stop, holding his own member as he aligns it with your entrance.
“Don’t want to fuck you-” He mumbles. You pull away from him, confused by his words. His other hand grabs the back of your neck as he pulls your face closer to his.
“-Want to make love to you.” He whispers into your mouth. And before you know it he’s pushing his entire cock inside you, bottoming out instantly. You both moan into each other’s mouths at the stretch. Juyeon moves his hips slowly as he starts to fuck you deeply, making sure you feel all of him going in and out of your pussy.
Juyeon wishes this moment could last forever, but the way your walls grip onto his member like a vice brings him closer to the edge faster than he had hoped. Especially with how you’re moaning into his mouth and wrapping your arms around his neck so tight? He was a goner.
He’s never fucked anyone like this before, and now he can’t imagine doing this with anyone else except you.
With every deep thrust, you feel yourself on the verge of cumming for the second time. Each stroke hitting that sweet spot in you has you reaching for the stars.
“Fuck Juyeon, you’re gonna make me cum again.” You whine as the wet sounds you're both making has you feeling dizzy.
“C’mon sweetheart, cum on my cock. God you can keep cumming on my cock as much as you want I don’t care.” His thrusts start to pick up the pace. “I’m yours forever.”
Those three words were enough to snap the coil within, breathing heavily as your walls flutter around his length. You’re so caught up in your own head you don’t realize Juyeon uttering a string of whimpers until you feel him quickly pull out his cock and blow his load all over your stomach.
The both of you take a moment to calm down from your highs before Juyeon gets up to each for the box of tissue on the coffee table. You watch him gently clean you up before he pulls his boxers back on to find your discarded underwear and also helps you put it back on.
He hovers above you before leaning down to leave small kisses around your face and on your lips. You caress his cheek slowly as he leans into your touch.
“Did you mean it? Everything you said?” You softly ask him.
“Down to every letter.” He responds. “But… I think you broke me.”
“Broke you? How?” You playfully scrunch your eyebrows at him.
“Don’t want to see myself with anyone else now.”
“Oh really?” You raise an eyebrow. “And how should I fix it then?” He smirks and kisses you again,
“Let me take you out on a date and we’ll call it even.”
The familiarity drives you insane, as much as it makes you sane.
synopsis » three years, limited communication. usually you would listen to your mum. but not this time. not when your heart still inevitably belongs to kim sunwoo. it's just that...does he still have space for you in his life?
pairing » the boyz kim sunwoo x fem!reader
trope/au » friends to lovers, slight strangers to lovers, (implied) rich girl x (not so) poor boy, non-idol au, slight high school au (flashbacks), university/college break au (is when the story takes place)
genre » super fluffy, hurt/comfort >>>>>>, SLOW-BURN (just look at the wc...), sunwoo and reader are blind and soooo lovesick for each other that i got really pissed at them both (...and i wrote them-), sunwoo takes care of reader so well, the boy is super in love with you, photographer sunwoo who loves to look at pictures of you (and him)
word count ; estimated reading time » 27,768 ; ...i am so sorry-
warnings (lmk if i missed anything!) » slightly suggestive, toxic family dynamic (reader with mother), mentions of unknown sharing of live locations, kissing, assuming others' feelings/thoughts, reader and sunwoo being unsure of themselves, swearing, insecurities, pet names (bubs), reader implied to be physically shorter and smaller than sunwoo, proofread chapter-by-chapter
navi/masterlist!! 🤍 the boyz masterlist 🤍 part of 'especially to you...'
hmm...honestly, i'm not too sure how to start off with introducing this story 🥀 you're about to read a story that i've had in my drafts for a very long time because 1) i've been scared to write it and 2) i didn't have a lot of energy to write a story that means so much to me.
this story is a very dramatised way of what my life could be like if i followed my heart more. a happy ending...? maybe? we'll never know because we never know where life takes us. my mum is actually one of the biggest supporter in my life so the reader's mother role in this story is like a 'what if my mum wasn't the person she is?' 🥹 i'm super thankful for her, but sometimes i think about what would it be like if i got more support, you know? and sunwoo in this story? he represents everything that i would have chased if i wasn't so easily controlled by the world.
i'll forever be stuck with the 'if only i did it' but maybe-just maybe-i'll learn bit by bit to do what i want to do ❤️🩹 so here i represent you cupid's mistake's sibling and my longest fic by date to be published 🫂
thank you to everyone who listened to me yap about this baby and happy birthday, kim sunwoo 💗
ONE: SHE'S WHAT?!
It's a peaceful morning for Millie who has decided to reward her early mornings by sleeping in for the Sunday. Tomorrow, a new weekday would begin and rest is essential if she wants to deal with energetic primary school children for another week. Habitually, she reaches for her phone on the bedside table, scrolling through less important messages until one immediately rids any tiredness from her system.
"What?!" Her back springs from the mattress, eyes wide on the photo message from you.
Smiling like nothing matters in the world.
With a peace sign beside your face.
Beside you, an oval-like window.
Outside, blue sky and white clouds.
You're on a plane.
And judging by the way you decided to send this to her, Millie can only assume you're on the way here. Back to Korea. Back to your homeland where you haven't set foot for three years. You missed Christmas, your birthday, New Year and even Halloween with your best friend and her high school sweetheart as well as your cousin, Eric Sohn. Sure, care packages were sent and video calls were made despite time and body clock differences, but nothing can beat being in the same place with your loved ones.
Other than the fact that Millie had to borrow her mum's car without much explanation, the only thing she could think about is your unplanned arrival.
"How annoying." She isn't sure if she's talking about you or the traffic piled up nearer to the airport. "And the parking fee, too?! I'm going to make her pay for that..." A fake, somewhat menacing smile makes its way on her face at the double-digit fee at the first hour.
Regardless, you're still her best friend, and even though she has so many ways of scolding you, Millie would be there whenever you needed her. On the way, her mind couldn't help but wonder about the answers to your actions. You're not necessarily the type to do something so unplanned, yet at the same time, maybe she should've expected this with your insistence in coming back.
To come back to breathe Korea's air. To be back to celebrate all those missed occasions. To eat ramen with Eric by the Han River. To go on a shopping spree with her and regret the low figures of your bank account later.
Or to come back because you miss a certain someone.
Millie heaves a sigh, relaxing her shoulders and leaning against her seat. Her eyes drift to the photograph on her dashboard: a group graduation photo. There's a bittersweet feeling for the boy who has his arm wrapped around your lower back. Kim Sunwoo’s smile is not what they should be paying attention to, but his other clenched fist by his side, and the spark gone from his eyes.
"Can't blame him," a sombre smile forming on her lips. "Kim Sunwoo is a coward who has been pining for you for a long time, you know?"
It’s excruciating for everyone to watch you and Sunwoo hopelessly in love for the longest time. She and Eric promised not to involve themselves too much during high school, believing that there was still a lot of time to be spared. As time passed, so did the lingering wish that she at least nudged in some way. Given the external circumstances, though, would anything have changed even with her or Eric’s interference?
"The world isn't fair to you both. It sucks."
The grip on the leathered steering wheel supports Millie’s words. A few seconds later, another thought emerges, and her grip loosens. The fact that you're here, assumingly through your actions, could it be?
That you're trying to at least be fairer to your heart?
TWO: HALF OF THE GROUP REUNITED
It's totally unplanned- well, to a certain extent.
You were fully awake when you booked that plane ticket, fingers dragging across the cold touchpad. You were aware of putting in the dates of your one-way flight, clicking away. You were aware of the last minute packing accompanied by the sunrise, yawning mid-way.
Even on the plane right now, as the flight attendant asks you to put your window cover back up, you're aware of how the letters surrounding you will change. People will speak in Korean, almost foreign to you now. But that's okay. Because you're home. At the very least, with your heart racing like crazy, you've stepped foot into the place you've been longing for.
With that, not only the place but also the people. The ones you've missed dearly. The ones you kept in touch with for your years abroad; the ones that you were on the brink of losing as well.
"Oh," kind of breath taken with the bustling pace of the airport.
The adrenaline has run out as your shaking legs make it hard for you to walk. The shops within the airport have slightly changed, some undergoing renovations so you couldn't even take a peak. You chew on your bottom lip at the unfamiliarity of your homeland, wondering if this anxiety will fade. When your phone is spammed with messages, you know it will soon.
WTFKFJFFJ
HUH?!??? WDYM YOURE JN THE AIR?
BITCH WIPE THAT PRETTYS LIFTLE SMILE OFF YOUR FACR
THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE MY DAY OFF INSIDE THE FUCKIMG HOUSEEWTFFFFF
WE HAVE A LOT TO TALK ABIUT MISSY
"Some things didn't change," you chuckle as you react to Millie's messages. Before you can go through all of them, your screen flashes with your cousin's name, bright and clear with the profile picture you haven't changed since high school.
"You’re in Korea?!" His surprised voice blasts through the speaker. You flinch, distancing your phone away from your ear. "Girl, why didn’t you tell me?! Did you tell Millie?! Or Sunw-”
"Not even a 'hi' or 'hello'?" Grumbling at the lack of greeting. "Millie is picking me up soon, okay? I'm gonna have to listen to her yapping, so spare me the double lecture, Eric Sohn."
"You have no right to use my full name!"
Arguing with Eric over the phone like this, without seeing his wide eyes and flared nose feels weird as you're so used to videos. But you reassure yourself that this is better as you'll be able to see all of that first hand soon anyway.
"Ok, well, surprise? I'm in Korea!"
"No shit, you're in Korea?!" Eric cheers on the other line. "Clear your schedule out today! And tell Millie to pick me up after! Actually, you should come to sleep over at my house today!"
Right...the accommodation problem. There isn't one, especially when Eric is offering. But you also did promise yourself to muster the courage to at least go home, greet your parents first (and maybe get their lectures first and foremost) before going out to clear your head afterwards.
They don't know you're here.
You’ve gathered all your wages for the plane ticket, even upgrading your check-in weight for the one-way ticket. Millie is the first person to know of your arrival, and you only hope that it stops with Eric, but you're beginning to doubt that with his excitement. At this point, his whole neighbourhood would know of your return.
You've been dreading to see them, but you know dragging it out would be worse. You're in trouble for going against their words big time. For all you know, they could send you back without another word. "I have to tell my parents I'm here, Eric."
Your voice is low, head hung down as you stare at your lap. Eric realises the severity of the situation by your tone. Are your parents even going to let you live after showing up like this? Your parents are strict, expecting obedience with no explanation needed. The only difference is that the man isn't always home, and you hope that’s the case this time too so that you'll only deal with one thing at a time.
“You bitch!!” The booming voice attracts bystanders and takes you out of your thoughts. You couldn’t even identify where the voice came from when your back takes the weight of friendship. “You are so dead!”
“Let me live!” Smacking Millie’s hands away.
“You let me live! I’m supposed to be rotting in bed, yet it’s twelve. I haven’t eaten breakfast, you’re here without a warning and-”
“Okay, I’ll buy you food! Just let me go!”
THREE: BELLY FULL, WALLET FULL
You swear that getting free food has been Millie’s plan all along. What made it worse is that you had to pay for your cousin, who you’re also convinced is on a mission to clear your wallet. As the two lovebirds chomp on their food with satisfying hums and thumbs, you know that some things didn’t change. With your three years abroad, Eric did visit you once in a while, and so did Millie last year. Both still stayed pronounced in your life.
“You booked the ticket three days ago?” Eric exclaims with a full mouth. “You’re crazy, you know that?”
“Whatever. I know you’re happy that I’m here.”
But the truth is that you knew that if you left it for too long, you would never have gotten on the plane. The ticket is expensive despite factoring the cheapest date and time. Even so, you know it’s best this way.
“And so? Are you going home, or are you staying over at my place?”
You shrug at the question. “I think I’ll just go home and break the news today. There’s no point dragging it on for longer.”
“Or your mum doesn’t have to know,” Millie suggests.
“Got a tracker app on my phone. It’s not gonna work. Honestly, I'm sure they know that I'm here and waiting for me.”
It’s a grim reminder for the couple who stops chewing on their food, solemn eyes on their half cooked beef. They understand that being abroad, it’s not a bad thing to keep a GPS tracker on your phone. They would understand and agree with that, but in reality, your mum has kept a tracker on you ever since you had a phone.
Throughout high school and twenty-four-seven, she sent messages when they knew you weren’t going to make it home before curfew. As your friends, they try their best to keep their thoughts calm, respecting the set boundaries. Deep down, they’re sick of your controlling parents, and Millie rolling her eyes is an indication of it. Your shoulder bumps into her intentionally, giving her a smile that isn’t quite genuine.
Millie dropped the topic, moving onto one that she had been dying to ask since she picked you up. “Does he know? Did you tell him that you’re here?”
No name has been given, but everyone at the table knows exactly who is being referred to. The table is quiet; only the meat crackling on the stove and the loud ventilation of the overhead vacuum hide your nervousness. Millie spots your fingers playing with the cuffs of your sleeves, finding out the answer herself.
“Why not?”
“I don’t know, Millie,” a blatant lie. “He really did limit his interactions with me for the past three years,” a painful truth following.
“Why are you here then? I know you’re not here just because you miss us. Or Korea. Or that you’re homesick.”
Hesitancy fills you, your voice refusing to come out. “I don’t know,” you repeat your denial.
“I know you know,” Millie called you out. “You know what? This isn’t productive,” she chugs the rest of the water in her cup, distributing the rest of the food between three plates. “Hurry and eat. We’re going somewhere.”
FOUR: A GLIMPSE OF HIM
The streets outside slowly shift from familiar buildings to new ones. At first, you thought that maybe being away from Korea was to blame, but looking at the street name and the GPS on Eric's phone, you're sure that you've never stepped foot in this area. Asking the purpose of why you're at this seemingly random street that has been shut down multiple times, Millie’s “you'll see” becomes the routine answer.
The side of your head leans onto the window, eyes gazing over the new sight. Even though nobody’s telling you anything, you can't help but be mesmerised by the new buildings. The purpose of this ride becomes evident when Eric secures a side road parking directly in front of a camera shop. From the exterior, the paint job is pristine and smooth. Either the weather hasn't eroded the white colour, the owner repaints often or the paint has some tough defense.
Millie peeks through the rearview mirror, your raised eyebrows wanting an explanation. “We're here. Get out of the car.” She and Eric hop off, prompting you to do the same.
The car door shuts in one swing, but your arms flail exhausted next to your body. “I still don't understand why we're here-” It seems like Millie is growing impatient with your lack of analysing your surroundings.
Your best friend holds both your shoulders firmly, aligning your body with the camera shop. At first, your head shakes at your tattered reflection, and your mouth opens to complain until the figure inside the store shifts your attention from yourself to them.
On the opposite side of the glass, Kim Sunwoo kneels to be on the same eye level as a weeping child. His hair is jet black, unlike the brown that you last saw him with. His strands are all over the place, not an unusual sight when it comes to him. Your fingers twitch as your instinct from high school comes, recalling all the times you parted his hair neatly, brushing his bangs out of his view. Sunwoo’s distinct toothy smile calms the child, the parent beside him heaving a sigh of relief. But for you, you stop breathing for a while, breath taken away by the sight that you have missed the most.
“It's actually him…” Your eyes refuse to blink in fear that he might disappear.
Three years seems to be enough to change some things while others stay the same. However, the lingering feelings that you have for the boy just by a flash of his smile resurfaces. Suddenly, you know coming back is the right choice, but seeing Sunwoo right now isn't just yet.
“This store is his,” Millie informs softly beside you. “It’s a small store but never his efforts. Did it all by himself.”
You audibly gasp at the news. You could imagine all the hard work Sunwoo had put into the store, both mentally and physically. The privacy inside the store is partly protected by a cloudy sticker, but shelves of his products peek out, lenses of cameras on display, waiting to capture someone's memories.
As the sunlight reflects off a lens, you let the light guide your feet forward. You let your feet gravitate closer, curiosity piqued at the store before you. The first step is easy, but the second displaces the light from its position.
"I'll come back tomorrow. I'm sure he's tired and doesn't want to see anyon-"
“Go and talk to him,” Eric cuts you off. “Besides, it's his birthday today.”
"We’re gonna go buy a cake really quick. You go on ahead and surprise him," Millie encourages with a slight push on your lower back.
Your eyes flicker to your two best friends, smiles reaching their eyes as their gazes point to the entrance door. They don't spare you a chance to rebut, linking their arms and skipping away. The 'open' sign has just been flipped away by its owner, and even through the clouded glass, the full body stretch that Sunwoo rewarded his tired muscles with relaxes your heartbeat. Your feet slide towards the door, cold fingertips reaching the metal handle. All you need to do is push, and the hinge of the door will welcome the cooler air inside. It would also give you a proper introduction to the boy that you have been missing.
And that's all you want.
You just want to see Kim Sunwoo again properly. So your arm pushes against the curved surface, feet stepping into glossy tiles from gravel. The room is minimalistic, with barely a speck of dust infiltrating the crevices of the shelf. The walls are kept clean and white, seemingly expanding the room. Each shelf is neatly polished, and the names of the products, along with the price written to avoid confusion. Various levels of shelves, ranging from the floor to the ceiling, to fully glassed cabinets for display surround the room’s perimeter. The goods are placed neatly in rows, the label facing the front to greet the customers with no doubt of what they're looking at. The space wafts of musky cologne and new cardboard behind the front desk. Just from a single glance, Millie is right: it's obvious that Sunwoo put his all into this store.
Then the cashier table: slightly less organised, stationery scattered all over the papers that hid the surface of the white table. It brings a nostalgic smile to your face, knowing that Sunwoo is still as messy. The number of times you gulped did nothing to the tears that gathered around the bottom of your eyelids, and you tried your best to stop them from escaping. Behind the desk, the owner sits and clicks away on his computer for a little longer. When he registers the tapping on the floor to not be his impatient ones, he looks away from the big screen.
“Sorry, we're clo-”
The customer service smile that Sunwoo has prepared, the higher pitch and the louder volume vanish at the sight of you. His eyes widen, making sure that he's not hallucinating from the lack of sleep, his lips parting. The hand on his mouse clatters when he stands, feet rooted to the ground as he proceeds to stare and blink at your presence.
“Hi…” are the only words that come out from your lips as you will yourself deeper into the store. Soon enough, you're centimetres away from the other side of the desk Sunwoo stays stuck at. You held onto your bag as tightly as your chest is starting to feel with his stare.
"A-Am I dreaming? Are you real...?” A hand sweeps his hair back. “W-What is going on...?"
Your heart swells at his reaction. At the very least, it's nice to know that he isn't kicking you out. "I came back this morning. Millie picked me up,” shrugging your shoulders away as if it wasn't a big deal.
But to Kim Sunwoo, it is. It's a very big deal.
His eyes scan over your figure, dressed lightly in the coming warmer months. Your fashion style didn't change from memory, and neither did the way your eyes sparkle. Sunwoo steps out from behind the counter, his blue hoodie and long baggy pants coming into full view. He's dressed very casually, contrasting the professionalism of having a job, and that's so Kim Sunwoo of him.
No barrier stands between you and Sunwoo now. You didn't think you would be reaching into your bag today as you had no expectations of seeing him. A box rests on your palm as you extend it towards Sunwoo. The boy averts his gaze to your wonderful wrapping skills.
“Happy Birthday, Sunwoo,” you congratulate him. “Just a little something from me to you.”
He left your arms hanging for a while, his forgetting how to move from his side. Your heart grows wary as he examines your handwriting of his name on the tag, your arms slowly retracting back to yourself. Before you can, Sunwoo mutters his gratitude, finally accepting your gift. You release the tense breath, shoulders loosening with the touch of his skin.
Then, you announce something that would drastically change Sunwoo’s schedules, “I'm home.”
FIVE: (SOMEWHAT) EXPERT ADVICE
Eric and Millie show up with a fully decorated cake with declarative toppers a few moments after. The four of you clutter around the front desk, devouring dessert before the main dinner meal. Conversations are loud, not letting silence take over at the reunion. You and Sunwoo haven't interacted much ever since the other two came, but you're satisfied with the shared moment now. Smearing cream onto each other's faces, photos clicking to capture the tradition, blasting music from Eric's phone as Millie fills the unknown lyrics with gibberish.
It's so nice to be home like this.
You didn't realise the eyes stuck onto you the whole time, stolen glances on top of it as the past two hours flew by. Sunwoo didn’t expect to close the store with a bright smile with sweet remnants on his face from the last few days of exhaustion. Today, though, the only thing exhausted is the storage space of his phone.
“Let's go for a proper dinner!”
“Convenience store dinner?” You add on to Eric’s words, “Just like back in high school.”
“Broke dinner,” Millie agrees with the idea.
Your eyes shift to Sunwoo, waiting for his answer. It's then that you notice him already striding away. “You guys go on ahead. I need to head back first. Thank you for today.”
To say that your heart drops at his answer is an understatement. Did Sunwoo really not want to be near you that much? Did you possibly ruin his day? You automatically occupy your mind with such thoughts, missing the way he turns his back to start walking the opposite way, and the last glance he spares your way. You take notice of his deflated shoulders, hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie, and you had to force yourself to look away to save the rest of your heart.
“Actually, I just remembered that I left something at Sunwoo’s house! You two go on ahead!” Eric attempts to be subtle, but not with how he rushes to blurt out his words.
Millie takes notice of your clenching hands, sympathetic eyes falling onto you. “He's not happy to see me, I guess," a lifeless chuckle followed after.
"Don't be ridiculous," Millie reassures. "He's just shocked, that's all."
"But he looks kind of disturbed with me being here, you know? Maybe he doesn't want to have anything to do with me anymore. He has spent the last three years barely texting me after all…"
Millie has always been the friend to say otherwise to your negative thoughts. She has an almost perfect success rate in making you feel better whenever you feel down, but this time, she's speechless. There’s nothing that she can offer other than an engulfing hug, letting some of your tears fall onto her shoulder while she pats the back of your head. No one knows why Kim Sunwoo decided to cut you off from his life.
And that’s what Eric Sohn wants to know, or at least confront him about.
"Way to go, Sunwoo.” Eric’s remark is snide, a hint of amusement but also expectancy of his treatment towards you.
Sunwoo scowls at his company, "Stop it, Eric."
"Why don't you give her a chance? Your heart a chance?"
“Yeah? Don't you remember what she went through because of me?"
Eric scoffs, disbelief at a past event that Sunwoo has evaluated negatively without hearing your side. He turns to his friend. "What did she go through, Sunwoo? When was there ever a time when she was sad with you?"
His steps pick up, wanting to avoid this conversation for the nth time, "Maybe not with me, but because of me."
"Really?” Her tone rose sharply, "Because as far as I remember, the only time she was sad because of you was when you weren't there to see her off at the airport because you apparently overslept.” A grimace makes its way to Sunwoo’s face. “As if anyone believed you.”
Sunwoo shakes his head, fist wanting to wreck havoc, "It doesn't matter. None of that matters. She's going to leave again, and we’ll be out of touch. It's better that way."
"You're an idiot,” Eric raises both hands in despair. "Give your heart a chance because for the last three years, all I see in your eyes is longing." And you need to see the same thing in her as well, the cousin thought to himself.
“Give it a chance only for it to break?”
His best friend decides to ignore the comment, phone lighting up with a reminder set for tomorrow's events. “The festival is tomorrow,” Eric raises a corner of her lip, plotting something in his head. “You're on pick-up duty.”
“What? No!”
“You can't just wait for the right circumstances to come, you coward.” The two friends arrive at the end of the shared road. Eric waves his exit, leaving a flabbergasted Sunwoo behind, intending to cut the birthday boy some slack. But true friends being true friends, his words still leave him with no mercy after all. “Some are made.”
SIX: TAKE ME AWAY
The last time you attended the mentioned beach festival was four years ago before you left. It was the last year of high school, stakes running high as students buried their noses into teared-up textbook pages. With how harsh each page flip gets with each passing second, it’s a miracle that the page is still intact with the book’s spine.
The memory seemed so distant yet everytime this time came around each year, you couldn’t help but to long for it. For now, academics is for another country and you're not there right now. You occupy the next half an hour on your phone in bed, scrolling through social media when the annual beach post festival reminder pops up on your screen.
“Oh…” Your thumb hovers to the comments section, scrolling through countless usernames tagging their loved ones to inform them of the event. “Should I go…?” But then the no company makes you swipe the app close, “Nevermind.”
Laying on your side, you’re met with your wall, allowing your mind to wander. You recall the time Sunwoo stubbornly got hurt a few years back just so that you could attend the festival, desperately wanting to take you. The dry air transports you back to the time when you surrounded yourself with the glossy finish of your chemistry, psychology and human biology books spread on your massive study table.
“This is so…” You let your sentence trail off, telling your conscious mind to read the next sentence, to just hold on for another page.
The headphones are ripped out from the comfort of the top of your head, now dangling pathetically around your neck as you rest your forehead on the staggering amount of words. Doing this non-stop for three hours without a break is not effective, but you can't bring yourself to rest.
You knew you should’ve gone to the library, but you needed to be able to say the words out loud for memorisation. You knew you should’ve studied in the cafe, but the aroma of chocolate and coffee would empty your wallet. You knew you should—
“Ouch!”
The thudding exclamation came from the left, where your open window is. Judging from the location of your room being on the second floor, you deduced that something (or rather, someone) must have injured themselves. Instinctively, your hand reaches for your phone to inform the guards, but it halts at the familiarity of the voice.
You cautiously approach the window, a pillow in hand as a (not so effective) weapon for whoever is waiting on the other side. Your head takes quick dips in and out of the sight of the outside world, a glimpse of a blank-haired boy sitting on the ground. Deeming it safe, half of your lower body is out of the comfort of your cooler room, the golden hour highlighting your face. Just as you expected, the boy looks defeated at the fact that he can’t reach your window’s apron, his butt glued to the soil and a hand clamped on the side of his head.
Sunwoo hasn’t noticed your presence, mumbling incoherent curses to himself as he continues to massage the pain out of his head after falling for a second time. You chose not to break the self-talk that the innocent boy is doing, now pacing around the area in a small, endless circle to the point that he could leave his trails on the grassed area. A hand slaps over your mouth, keeping the volume of your chuckles as minimal as you can as you hear the adorable self-encouragement.
“Ah, crap! I gotta be quick!”
“Wait, it’s six already?!”
“Okay, okay, okay. I’m getting a grip now! Let’s do this!”
You watch Sunwoo retreat a bit further from the wall of your house, a small smile appearing on your face as you see a similar expression start to take over his face, yet comparatively, it’s different and so much more genuine. If the raised corner of your lips is full of hesitancy, negativity and is fictitious, he holds the meaning of confidence, positivity and perseverance. It’s one of the many things that you love about him, and the rays of heaven shining down on him make you melt into the thought of Kim Sunwoo every time.
Maybe it’s not something that a ‘clueless eighteen-year-old’ should think about, as your mother says, but the heart knows the truth. But all it takes is one person to make you feel the emotions that you can't receive and feel in this household. Your shoulder muscles relax, and the weight in your chest lifts whenever Sunwoo is within reach.
“Kim Sunwoo…” fingers clenching the painted window frame, “when will you ever leave me alone?”
The easy answer to that is never.
Simple and true—just like your love for him and his love for you.
Clouded in your thoughts, you lose track of Sunwoo’s attempts to break in. Another exclamation breaks your daydream, and you feel bad for almost laughing at Sunwoo’s misery.
“What do you think you're doing?” Making your presence known to the boy downstairs.
It’s interesting to see how his smile sprouted more as he craned his neck up so much that you worry about the cramp that will arise later on. The beam plastered on his face takes your breath away.
“This makes my life easier!” Sunwoo jumps around like a child at the sight of you. “Come on! Let's go!”
The slight shake of your head and scoff tells Sunwoo your first thoughts, “You know I can't, Woo,” and it dulls the radiant atmosphere that he has been emitting.
“I’ll bring you back.” No doubt about that, and for some reason, it’s a miracle that your parents have never caught you. “Your parents won't even know,” he reinforces his will of bringing you out.
“It’s funny how you say that when you can't even enter through my very open window.”
“I’m sorry that I haven’t mastered the art of floating,” he sassily remarks with an eye roll. “Come on! Eric and Millie are waiting!”
It's scary to even think about running away with an ominous presence behind you, even though your mum is away for the next few days. With how much you’ve been cooped up between your four walls, you could recite the little scratches on the wall, the same ones that made your mum throw a tantrum to the painters who you believe did their job as best as they could. In the end, those hard-workers end up leaving with no pay, stinging you that you share the same genetics as one of the two figures in your life that you’re supposed to be able to trust and look up to.
“It's okay, Woo…” your mind already reciting the reactants to carboxylic acid, “but thanks for the offer.”
“Just two hours!” Holding up corresponding fingers to you. “Then I'll take you back home! Now jump, and I'll catch you! Promise!”
You know very well that Sunwoo wouldn't let you fall, however the height is crazy for you and his words aren't the most trustworthy. “With what muscles?!”
“Hey! You know I wouldn't dare to drop you!” He retaliated with his two arms up to the sky.
His open arms tempt you to do as he says instead of taking the long way down, even though the difference in time between the two routes is barely different. You find yourself sitting on the ledge of your window and in Sunwoo’s arms seconds later. The warmth of the sun is nothing compared to the hold he has on you, body shaking as he sets you on your feet. Your hand clamps on his t-shirt, eyes welling up at the caring orbs he has for you.
“See? Told you I would catch you.” The loose strands of your hair are tucked behind your ears. Sunwoo exhales at your tears, thumbs wiping them away, “You can cry if you want.”
“Mhm…” You nod whilst still keeping eye contact with him.
“It's okay,” he shakes his head at the threatening waterfall, “cry it out.”
His hand pushes you to his chest, fingers lightly massaging the back of your head. “It's just…I can't…”
“Yes, you can,” he argues. “You're the smartest person I know, and you're going to do well. I promise.”
“You’ve been promising me a lot of things…”
“Because you’re worth all of them.”
You got caught that day as your mum finished her business earlier than expected. Unfortunately, that was also Sunwoo’s first meeting with her. A beautiful day turning into a mess. Needless to say, the restrictions placed upon you increased, and freedom immensely decreased. You could no longer hang out with anyone after school, not even in the library during the weekends. The want to see your friends outside of the school only increases when you knew you were leaving, but your parents stood their ground.
And now, all grown up, sometimes when you're given the ability to do what you want, you simply can't.
Outside your house is a different story. Sunwoo paces around outside your gate, rewriting his text to you for the third time. “Or I could just turn back and go home!”
During his mental breakdown, the text accidentally sends, and the ‘seen’ receipt appears almost straight away. “...WHAT?!”
im outside…?
You've never skipped down the stairs, stumbled over the air and almost embarrassingly face-planted to the ground. The click of the front door opens, revealing the crease between your eyebrows, eyes scanning your front yard for the unexpected visitor. The little wave outside your property catches your attention. Sunwoo is leaning on the hood of his car outside your fence.
With a touch of the button, the front gates creak open, and you usher Sunwoo in as you hurriedly slip on shoes, once again almost stumbling. Sunwoo's head shakes at your invitation, pointing at the ground as he offers you a reassuring smile.
You watch Sunwoo attending his phone, the device against his ear. Your phone rings shortly after, Sunwoo's name on your screen. Your thumb clicks on the green button with no hesitation.
“You look tired.”
It's such a wonder how he's able to catch your expression from far away. But truthfully, he couldn’t. Sunwoo just knows everything about you, including the implications of your slightly draping shoulders.
“My mum chewed me out for coming without notice and, I quote, ‘Running around Korea before heading home first' and also said that I'm ungrateful,” you shrug at last night's lecture. “But what's new? She's kind of always like that.”
Sunwoo hums, “I'm proud of you.” You’re taken aback from the words, not fully understanding them. With your silence, Sunwoo takes it as a cue to explain, “That you came back here because you wanted to. You always obeyed your parents, which to a certain extent is good, but I’m sure you know what’s good and bad for you now.”
“Oh…” your neck hangs low, kicking the small rocks away from the sill of the door. A faint smile grows as you begin to acknowledge your bravery in coming despite being afraid of the “what ifs. “Thank you, Sunwoo.”
Sunwoo nods, a tender gaze overlooking your figure from afar. “You can take a nap in my car if you’re still tired…if you want…”
An eyebrow rises at the question, bringing your head back up see Sunwoo shrugging his shoulders. “Are you asking me out?"
"Maybe," he chuckles, and you see the way he shifts his sitting in slight excitement, eyes fondly setting on you. "The annual beach festival is today. You haven't gone in a while, and I was wondering if you want to go with us again. Eric and Millie are there already."
Your eyes widen, wondering at the perfect timing of it all. If your phone was fragile, it would have shattered underneath your grip. You stand stunned for a minute longer, and there's a beat of the crows cawing in the background. Sunwoo nervously fidgets with his keys as he waits. After a while, he misinterprets the silence, slowly getting up to leave.
“I-I guess you're busy. It's okay-"
"No!" You shout, and Sunwoo hears your echo without his phone. He hears you stuttering an apology and then, "Give me ten minutes…"
The image of the whole complete group in his head makes his heart warm. He nods. "Take as much time as you need. I'll be waiting."
SEVEN: STICKS AND GEMS
"I didn't know you got your license,” you finally address after a song ends. “And a car.”
"There were a lot of places I wanted to go to. It's more convenient to drive.”
Some of those words are true; Sunwoo just left out the part about how he wishes that someday, you’ll be a part of the said drives. You would be in the front seat, helping him with navigation, and he would take pictures of everyone, mostly you. A trip was supposed to happen as a graduation present for the four of you. But with three left, it didn't seem worth it to go anymore.
With how crowded the festival is compared to years ago, it’s a miracle that Sunwoo was able to find parking. You do have to thank the children for being tired earlier, leaving a few bays free. Millie and Eric holler across the street, the girl jumping into your arms after crossing. While you're occupied with Millie’s arm around your neck dragging you into the festival, Sunwoo took a breather with your retreating figure.
“Wasn't so hard now, was it?” Sunwoo rolls his eyes at Eric's grin. “You gonna tell Millie to stop stealing your girlfriend?”
“Wha-” Sunwoo sputters. “She's not my girlfriend.”
“Alright,” Eric shrugs. “Whatever you say.”
Eric’s grin stays on for the rest of the night as the two boys follow you and Millie behind. Sunwoo has his hand tucked into his hoodie pocket from the wind. His hood also shielded his face from the night breeze. Yet, it's not enough to hide his fond eyes and mellow smile if you turned back. Nothing could hold Sunwoo back from showing you that look, so if you did turn back, he would be completely exposed with no proper excuse for why his cheeks were dusted like the sunset’s pink.
Your gasp takes his out of his trance, feet ready to run and take your hand incase of danger. When he follows the object of surprise, he exhales with relief.
“Tornado potatoes!” You run out from Millie’s embrace, joining the long queue of the food truck.
It's a signature food of the core memory between you both. Even without you for the past years, he has never forgotten to grab a stick for himself. Knowing you’re safe, Sunwoo retreats his foot from running.
A couple of nudges to his hip have him turning to the culprit. “Go accompany her in line.” Millie raised an eyebrow knowingly. “Don't be a coward, Sunwoo.”
Sunwoo’s mouth opens, ready to come up with a thousand excuses on why he shouldn't, but he takes all of them back. Because he wants to. He wants to accompany you in line. He wants to be with you, even if it's just for a few seconds. So he nods without complaint, not looking back to the couple.
"Damn," Eric crosses his arms, impressed. "Our boy is still as whipped as before."
"Arguably even more." Millie squints her eyes at the faraway couple, particularly Sunwoo, who has an adoring gaze stuck on you. "He's an idiot."
"They're both idiots," Eric corrects. "I say we leave my lovesick cousin and best friend and have fun ourselves."
Millie is delighted with the suggestion, linking Eric by his arm away from you and Sunwoo. Meanwhile, you’re occupied with the spices, oil and fried goodness in the air when Sunwoo makes his appearance known. You jolt with widened eyes, slowing softening into a pair of crescents.
“Don't go running off like that,” he courageously takes your left hand with his right. “You worry me.”
The physical touch leaves you speechless, warmth rising to your cheeks. You spare him a curt nod before looking away to hide your flustered look.
“Sorry, I haven't eaten this in ages, so I’m excited.”
“Rock, paper, scissors and the loser pays?”
The deal is sealed after three rounds, and Sunwoo’s wallet is closer to zero. As you're distracted with your win, he doesn't miss the opportunity to tighten his hold on you, continuing with light conversation as the line progressively gets shorter. Holding Sunwoo’s hand becomes normal, and you forget how it feels without. You eventually let go for a better grip on the almost empty stock, not leaving a single worth of cent behind.
Now, you're exploring the place with Sunwoo beside you. Your shoulders occasionally bump into each other, knuckles likewise brushing. All this sends Sunwoo's heart reeling, craving your touch even more. Eric and Millie are unreachable, as expected. Sunwoo grumbles curses to your cousin after reading his peace sign emoji text, knowing this is all a set-up. You all agreed to meet up along the shore a few minutes before the fireworks show, but for now, he'll take this opportunity with you.
“Where should we go?”
Sunwoo shakes his head, pocketing his phone to give you his full attention. “Anywhere you want.”
His hand is back into yours, unaware of the effect it has on you. You found it difficult to focus on the stalls and decorations with your being so close to Sunwoo. Your gait is throwing you off-centre, feeling the boy's deep chuckle beside you by his hold.
“Want a piggyback ride?”
“No!” You would have taken it as it would be an opportunity to hide yourself but your heart cannot take any more than right now.
“Someone's excited,” an elderly voice calls out.
"Grandma Lee!" You run over to the stall with the familiar face. "You're still here!"
"Of course! You know that handmade accessories are my life!"
"And I'm so glad it has stayed that way!"
Grandma Lee spares a greeting to Sunwoo, which was reciprocated, bowing to the woman with respect. You were both regulars at her annual stall. Grandma Lee sells handmade hair accessories with fine precision and detail. Her hard work always leads to her supply being out of stock in most festivals she's at, and it's no surprise to either of you. Sunwoo and you always spent the rest of your money here following food, and with the designs in front of you today, it seems like today will follow the trend from previous years.
"I haven't seen you in so long, dear," referring to your absence. "Sunwoo told me you've been studying abroad and are very busy."
You're surprised to hear that. Not because of her caring nature, but because Sunwoo talked about you. "Yes, I’ve been abroad," stealing side glances to Sunwoo as he busied himself with the designs in front of him.
"I'm sure you have been working very hard! Please take one as a gift!"
"Oh no, it's okay-"
"Follow my words, dear. Hard work should always be rewarded. I'm sure you have been working very hard that you haven’t been able to come home.”
You wish you could open your heart to rebut how untrue it was. You were close to doing so until the elderly woman stood from her chair, reaching over to pat your head.
All words blur under her care. "Thank you…” With a satisfied nod from the kind elderly, you begin to search the racks and shelves of handmade accessories.
The contemplation is written all over your face, so Grandma Lee tries to help. "I recommend these because they’re different designs from what Sunwoo has gotten you before.”
The boy next to you freezes, his eyes intentionally looking towards the end of the table closer to his claim. His fingers slip away from yours, lips growing dry as he tries to ignore your stare. You gulp and turn away, eyes running through the designs to distract yourself.
The truth is, whenever you visit this place with Sunwoo, he has never gotten you anything. He wanted to, but you always beat him to the payment first. So Grandma Lee’s words could only really mean one thing.
"You bought me things?" You finally ask with a tender voice, still not looking at him.
Sunwoo’s nod just caught on your peripheral. “I'm sorry if that makes you feel uncomfortable. I wanted to send it over but then always wanted to give it to you face to face, and I know I should have just sent it over because that would have been more special to receive it straight away but-”
"Hey, hey,” your palm blankets the back of his hand, thumbs soothing across his knuckles. You keep your eyes to your hands. “I’m just thinking about how you thought of me…”
His heart breaks at that. Of course, you would think this way. After all, he's the person that would leave you on delivered, sometimes, seen for ages after promising to stay in close touch. The pain on your side isn't truly understood until now when, just by one look, Sunwoo could tell that you're holding your tears back. Your hands shake, breath doing the same.
“I always think of you,” he confessed genuinely. “Always.”
You don't know why you think you had to search his eyes for any lies when you finally lock yours with his. “Me too,” you confess back. “I always think about you too.”
Those simple words mean everything to him and you. Lighthearted laughter fills the atmosphere while Grandma Lee sits away to give you both space. She reminisces her youth and love now far away through the two young adults who have their fingers intertwined fondly. Joint attention is now back on her work. With how much Sunwoo asks you to reconsider your choice, it gets you wondering what he has bought for you, and the knowledge makes your heart flutter.
In the end, Grandma Lee gave you more than just a hair clip, not letting you or Sunwoo spend anything on her priceless work. You’re both left with a pout on your lips when she wouldn’t even accept the offer of buying some warm food to munch on. The woman even joked about calling security if you didn't leave immediately. After giving your hands a light and reassuring squeeze, you promised to visit next year and left. An enveloping hug is the only thing she would accept from you both, but that’s all the woman wants from her most loyal customers.
Sunwoo’s phone is bombarded with texts from Eric telling him that he’s by the shore, readying for the fireworks in around half an hour. “Do you want to grab any quick snacks before meeting up?”
“I should be fine,” occupied by the small bag of goods in your hands.
You’re barely paying attention to your path, and Sunwoo has to distribute his attention to you and the crowd around him. This would surely be a good reason to hold your hand, right? It’s for your safety, and he’s worried about you. After another moment of contemplation, Sunwoo acted on his thoughts, slithering his right arm around your lower back and resting his palm on your waist. He pulls you closer to him, and you almost drop everything.
In this way, walking through the crowd becomes easier, even with shaky legs at the subtle touches on the dip of your waist, similar motions like the one you gave him earlier. Kim Sunwoo is learning from you. Your confidence rubbed onto him, and you relished the way your bodies were close to each other despite making walking a difficult task.
The plastic bag that was near your chest lowers to your thigh as you now pay attention to Sunwoo’s cologne, stealing glances without moving your head too much. He’s busy looking around for Eric and Millie, as you busy yourself with his well-sculpted features. Sunwoo’s touch didn’t do much in terms of making you more aware of your surroundings, but with you in his arms, it’s much safer than before.
“Oh. My.” Millie tugs on Eric’s sleeves, her jaw dropped by you and Sunwoo close together.
Eric blinks at the sight. “Well, that happened.” Millie slaps Eric’s bicep in excitement. “Yes, baby, we’re all excited.” The two quickly rush to make space on the blanket.
Millie pats the space on her left for you, a smirk on her face which makes you mouth her to leave you alone. To Millie, waiting for you to take your shoes off felt like a lifetime. She pulls you down by an arm, a knowing eyebrow rising as you swat your hand in the air.
Sunwoo takes his place next to your left quietly, knees folding to his chest, “So nice to have all four of us here.”
“Well,” the girl beside you starts, “for now.”
“Millie, stop ruining the moment!” You reprimanded.
Sitting down side by side resurfaces memories. It's warming when you think about how you are all connected by this event: Millie meeting Eric here when she was working at one of the stalls and you meeting Sunwoo a year after. It's like everything wanted you all to be together. In the vast view where the waves sing with the birds at sunset, they wanted you all to sit together to admire the changing time.
Sunwoo’s fingers traced along the zipper of his camera bag, contemplating taking it out. The waves sparkle under the golden rays, and it’s breathtaking. However, it’s not breathtaking enough to take his attention away from the person beside him. Your smile makes it harder for him to divert his eyes away. Eric eyes the bag to reassure the boy before redirecting his eyes to you. Sunwoo chuckles instead of cursing at him, finally setting his camera.
Sunwoo first starts with capturing the calmer waves and landscapes. Eric followed, ready with multiple poses, and then he and Millie as per the former’s request. There's a playful scowl on his face when the couple displays their affection in public, but at the back of his head, he can't help but be healthily jealous of the love they share. Satisfied with his work, Sunwoo clicks through his masterpiece, mentally choosing which to print for his photo album.
You lean over to his screen, “You've still got it,” complimenting his skills. “I'm glad to see that you still love photography. It has always been your hidden passion in high school.”
“Couldn't let go of it,” Sunwoo nods. “Hence the store as well.”
He shifts his seating position from you, stopping near the edge of the blanket. The lens reflects your face, Sunwoo clicking multiple times to your random poses. You’ve always been a natural when it comes to taking pictures. For you, the photographer is an important factor in the quality of your picture. There’s no way you could fully relax if you didn’t know the person behind the camera well. Because of that, you haven’t gotten your picture taken by anyone for a long time, yet it feels like second nature when Sunwoo gives you pointers on what he should do as he adjusts his settings. Again, his work never lets you down.
“You should sign up for competitions again like what you did in high school.”
“I did. Four of them.” Sunwoo powers his camera off, spreading his legs out with his hands behind him for support. “I won them all.”
“Sunwoo!” You exclaim, clapping generously for him. “I knew it! You should hang up the certificate or trophies at work! And the pieces you won along with it!”
“N-No, it's embarrassing…”
“No, it's a good idea! You not only have the technical knowledge for cameras but also photography skills. I'm sure a lot of people will love it and be assured that the owner has a clear talent for photography as well!”
Your compliments make Sunwoo retreat his blushing face behind his propped-up arms on his knees. “M-Maybe,” he takes the credits. “Want to see the pieces? I have them here.”
In a heartbeat, you nod at his offer. Sunwoo walks you through the failed photos, telling you the reasons and how he made the next shots better. You’re used to seeing portraits as it was Sunwoo’s specialty. Knowing that his skills have comfortably extended to landscapes makes you immensely proud of the immersed boy in his hobby.
Amid conversations and the dropping temperature, your body searches for warmth, unconsciously resting your head on Sunwoo's shoulder. Beside you, Sunwoo lays the side of his head on top of yours, relaxing at how you paid attention to all his words. The saltiness of the sea is washed out by your perfume and shampoo, and it took everything for him to not turn his head to yours to press a quick kiss.
It’s only when the sky explodes with warm, bright colours that you lean away, allowing his heart to come back to normal rhythm. However, like before, his eyes are stuck on your side profile. His fingers jitters, close to lifting themselves for his lens, but he helps the urge down. He decides to keep this scene for himself.
Sunwoo wants to share your beauty with the world, eyelashes fluttering with regretful blinking at missing a millisecond of the fireworks. He wants to show you off, but he wants to keep this scene to himself.
Humans can be selfish sometimes. And Kim Sunwoo is human.
You’re aware of the eyes falling upon you, so you attend to them to see Sunwoo’s affectionate eyes. Your breath hitches at the sweetness dripping from his orbs, and you pay attention to the colours of the sky painting their way to his honey-like skin.
“You’re really pretty.” Sunwoo’s deep voice resonates in the air. When he realises his words, his cheeks turn a deep red.
“Sunwoo…”
His hand lightly directs your head back to his shoulder, giving him the comfort that he needs. “Stay close to me, please,” his voice weakening with each second. He gulps the bile down his throat. “I’m sorry that I was cold yesterday when you visited the store. I’m sorry…” Sunwoo repeats the apology a few more times, and you lift your head away from him.
Sunwoo bites his bottom lip, unable to face you in shame. Unexpectedly, a palm cups his cheek, tilting his face to you, “I forgive you, Woo.” Your thumb pulls on the skin of his chin to release the bite. “Stay close to me, okay?”
A final nod is all he manages to give. With bodies gravitating towards each other and hearts lighter, you watch the sky bloom with sparks that reflect on your orbs. To you, Kim Sunwoo is in your peripheral view, but to him, you’re at the centre of his.
EIGHT: SEALED DEAL
As per Eric and Millie’s hopes, Sunwoo is the one to drop you home. Millie makes you promise to video call when you settle back home, and you roll your eyes playfully, promising the girl anyway, with whatever she wants to talk about. Now, you’re back in Sunwoo’s passenger seat.
"When did you open the store?"
It's a question that you're curious about and you find that after tonight, starting a conversation with Sunwoo is much easier.
"I worked for a year and a half after graduation and spent all my savings on it.”
He remembers the time of taking transport in the humid summer, missing the bus to bathe in his sweat. In winter, he would bathe in his sweat on the bed, fighting a fever. All of it turns into fond memories during silence in the store, reminiscing his little efforts that went a long way and paid off.
"Eric and Millie helped with the decorating.” Sunwoo was about to stop there. Until, “It would have been better if you were with us.”
It's a mutual feeling. How will you even begin to make up for that lost time? You give him a slow nod, lost in your thoughts. "It was really lonely abroad. I had friends and a lot of company, but something was missing."
The red light halts the car, and the sound of the engine rests for a little while. It's not until now that Sunwoo can finally steal a side glance at you. Your hair frames your face, and even though he's unable to get a proper look because of the night, he can hear your nails clashing anxiously against each other.
"Like?" He dared to continue, and he had to bite his tongue to reprimand himself.
"Millie's mischief, Eric's energy," your fingers stop moving, "and everything about you."
The green light pumps the engine back to life, the buzzing filling the air once more with another layer. You didn't expect an answer from Sunwoo. You're just glad you got your feelings out.
“You’re here now. It’s better now, right?”
Your head whips to his side, and for the first time, Sunwoo’s lips stretch from ear to ear genuinely. “Right,” you answer with a mirroring facial expression.
This is it. This is the Kim Sunwoo that you know.
The rest of the ride is mixed with light singing and swaying. Sunwoo kept the beat by tapping his finger on the wheel and you on your thigh. You tried your best to keep yourself interested in the scenery outside, but with the mellow, higher tone that Sunwoo sings with the love songs on the radio, he eventually becomes your scenery. It's only halfway through one of the songs when Sunwoo gradually turns the volume down, the uninviting tall black gates causing his engine to halt. You stay in your seat, reasoning to stay until the song is over. But two, three and four songs pass after your claim.
Sunwoo had an idea of why you're rooted on the seat of his car. If he could, he would drive you back to his house, somewhere you loved to spend time, for the rest of the night. Yet, the last time he did that was really the last time. He couldn't stop blaming himself for that day he took your freedom away with the introduction of stricter curfews and rules.
"You should go in. It's going to be curfew soon,” he finally managed to say.
"Oh, right..." Your voice trails off with disappointment. Your hands take the latch of his car door to exit, and you're ready to pull until he stops you.
Per his request, you stay seated as Sunwoo exits instead. Your head follows his figure, disappearing when he takes something from the back of the car. Sunwoo comes around your side of the door, opening it for you. Other than the smile that reaches his eyes, his gratefulness for today is conveyed with the bouquet he prepares in his hands. Your lips parted at the colourful petals.
“I was supposed to give this to you before, but I was just so flustered and now they look ugly and destroyed and I'm so sorry and-"
"They're pretty. Thank you, Sunwoo,” you reassure his worried rambles. Sunwoo extends his hands to you, hands brushing at the exchange. "Can you take a picture of me with them?"
Surely his phone has space for one more photo. Don't fail on me now phone! And fail it didn't, as he was able to quickly delete an app for immediate storage. As expected, Sunwoo directs you with poses and angles, snapping the best shots of you and his gift. You're left scrolling at the new pictures sent to your phone, feet tapping on the cement excitedly.
You pocket your phone, taking a moment to appreciate the flowers in front of you. The sweet scent surrounds you, and you push the gift closer to your chest. Some petals fall, withering from time. As much as you want to think you have more time than them, you don't know what the future holds.
So you at least try to control a bit. You want to make up for the lost time somehow.
"Can I come to help you at work tomorrow?” The suggestion is followed by rustling plastic by your hold. “I promise I won't bother and actually help."
It's an interesting request to Sunwoo. If he agrees, then he would be able to see you more. "It's your holiday. You should be relaxing."
"Being with you is relaxing,” you state surely. “I just want to be around you."
"How about I pick you up after work?”
"How about you just let me work with and help you tomorrow?”
Sunwoo chuckles, knowing he won't win against you. Besides, losing to you on this isn't a bad idea. He leans over to you slightly, bending his back to reach eye level and towering over you. "The moment you distract me, you're out."
The way your eyes lit up from his words is a sight that he wants to see all the time. "Deal!"
NINE: TRACED FEELINGS
Despite looking forward to the next day, maybe you were looking forward a bit too intensely, as you couldn’t fall asleep fast. As a result of your overexcitement, you overslept and are indeed running late. Regardless, you still willed your legs to dash to the bus stop and shop to avoid ‘clocking in’ later.
“Morning!”
“You’re late.” Sunwoo tries to be stern, but his facade breaks seconds after with a welcoming smile.
“Now you know how the teachers felt like in high school with you,” the boy concedes, hands up in the air. “What am I helping you with today?”
“It’s getting a bit busier, so I’ll get you on POS, unpack some deliveries and record appointments for photoshoots or any of the sort that anyone needs.”
“Sounds good to me!” You skip your way behind the front desk, setting the space for the day.
Sunwoo being Sunwoo, you're not surprised at the clutter. He manages to keep the rest of the store clean, but how does he even function with all this scattered paperwork? You can't even see the material of the table, and you're convinced the folders below the papers are for decoration.
“Guess I'll start by cleaning and sorting this out then.”
You don't get far with your cleaning, only grabbing a few sheets draped against his stationary cup until a picture frame comes into view. The pictures are sized smaller than usual to make maximal use of the frame. Upon closer inspection, you recognise most of these pictures as the ones on your phone: the late night getaways, the sleepovers, the birthdays and Christmas Eves, the prom and the graduation photos. They're all here.
What really stood out? Most of them were only you and Sunwoo, and not group ones with Eric and Millie.
“I wasn't the only one who kept them…”
For the longest time, you thought so. You thought that you were the only one who cared to swipe through the photos. You're starting to get a clear picture now that Sunwoo didn't truly cut you out of his life despite limited texts. Yet, that only deepens your confusion even more.
Why would he have this if it at least felt like he was trying to avoid you?
You push the thought aside at the approaching customer. You try to be enthusiastic despite the questions in your head, keeping a mental note to ask Sunwoo later. Maybe the universe heard your silent pleas to keep yourself intact from your worries as customers rushed in to keep you busy. Sunwoo himself becomes increasingly busy on the floor, while you support his business with your limited photography knowledge.
Sunwoo exceeded his daily goal; no surprise from the accumulated sweat on his forehead and neck. You slump your body onto the table, cheeks chasing the surface for coolness. Your mouth is desperate for hydration after talking non-stop with the higher pitch that comes with customer service. Just like he's reading your thoughts, he hands you a bottle, which you gladly gulp the contents of.
A satisfactory sigh comes after emptying half the bottle, “That was refreshing.”
“Was busier than I thought. It was a good idea to have you here. You even cleaned up the space.”
“Yeah, well, I couldn't work with it,” he shakes his head fondly at your slightly lecturing tone.
“You should go eat. We didn't manage to have a proper break.”
It's only now that you notice the sunset illuminating the upper half of the store. The emptiness in your stomach makes itself known when it grumbles, and Sunwoo tries to hold his laughter. It's a calming moment as the sunlight sets on his tanned skin, making your heart skip a beat. His smile is radiant, brighter than the sun. His eyes: clear, unlike the past few cloudy days.
“You really didn't forget about me,” you voice out weakly, a smile lifting just the same. Your fingers trace the curves of the frame, gulping silently. “I just thought I was the only one who held on to these memories.”
You expect Sunwoo to change the subject, or at least let the subject die quicker with a fast reply. But instead he fishes for his phone in his pocket, “My laptop and phone wallpaper are us too."
Your eyes shift to his genuine voice. However, you could no longer make out the emotions behind his eyes. Sunwoo reveals his phone’s lock screen, and he minimises apps to show his desktop wallpaper. He observes you next to him, making sure he catches every little detail on your face as you set your eyes upon his personalisation. You’re mesmerised at the number of pictures that he has, some you've never seen before. Your upper body bends over closer to the desktop to observe each shot.
"This is where we first met,” pointing at the familiar beach shore. "My favourite place in the whole world.”
Is it a coincidence that it's yours too?
“Well, second,” Sunwoo takes back. Your eyebrows furrow at the changed ranking. “Wanna know the first?” You nod, expecting more words from him, words mixed with pictures of his number one place.
Instead, you got it all through actions. Sunwoo steps behind your seating form, his arms enclosing you around your waist. The back of your head rests against his broad chest, heartbeat resonating to you while he buries his face into the crook of your neck. Your perfume indulges him into relaxation despite his daring act, but your skin heats up when you grow aware of his hand slightly hovering your clothed stomach.
“This is my first,” he rasps out. “Being in your presence.”
You stutter in your breathing, eyes welling up in the same way that your chest is filled with contentment. The feeling surges throughout every part of your body, and it’s only when you fully give your weight over to him that Sunwoo intertwines his fingers from both hands, pulling you into his embrace closer.
But it’s not enough. For him, it’s not close enough.
He’s forced to let go. The seat you’re on spins around, and you hold onto Sunwoo’s shoulders for support. Sunwoo lowers his body, sweeping you off your feet with an arm supporting the back of your thighs as he now sits on the cushion. Instinctively, your right arm encircles his neck, and in the next second, you’re comfortably taking a seat on Sunwoo’s lap. Sunwoo makes sure you don’t slide off with his right hand supporting your left thigh near his knee. His left arm stays around your back, making sure you won’t fall backward either. His plump lips brush against your jawline delicately, and you notice his breathing smoothing out as he rests against you. Mindlessly, your index finger traces his nape, drawing random shapes on his skin, occasionally massaging his scalp to relax his muscles. It seems like Sunwoo couldn't get enough of your touch, arms pulling your lower body flush against his until he no longer could.
“Is this okay?” With his nod, he allows himself to find solace in your presence, and you eventually slide your hand to ruffle and mess with his hair.
Close contact like these is not unusual. In the past, in a crowd full of people or no one but air, you would dash towards Sunwoo the same way. Your voice would call out for him first, letting your presence known from afar before jumping into his figure. Every morning before school, bear hugs and back hugs are common occurrences. But ever since you told Sunwoo about moving, the skinship was reduced to holding hands and brief hugs. As it became routine, you forgot just how fast your heart could beat just by the two hands on your body. You don’t hate it though, not one bit.
“Sunwoo?”
“Hmm?”
“Can I please see you?” You're worried all of this is a dream.
“Just a little more.” His nose nudges your neck. “I don't want this to end now…”
You feel the same way, playing with the ends of his hair soothingly. Sunwoo almost dozes off at the occasional traces on his skin, heart content with your little hums.
“It’s been years since you’ve held me this close.” Your voice surprisingly didn't waver at your emotions. Tears are brimming along your eyelids, but a blink pushes them back to hide them. “I missed you holding me close like this.”
“I missed it more,” he whispers to your skin.
“We don't have to end the day together now…” You felt his lips stretching against your skin with the suggestion.
“That's true,” his eyes lulling to close once more. You didn’t expect him to agree, pulling your neck away to face his blushing face with widened eyes. “Let’s not end the day together now, hm?”
You agree immediately, fearing that he would take back his words if not. The boy connects his forehead with yours. The proximity makes your fingers shake, eyes jolting to anywhere but his well-defined features. Sunwoo too, knowing that this is the first time in a while that he’s holding you so close, flutters his eyes shut to focus on the lines you’re trailing on his skin, lulling between consciousness and dreamland.
If only he paid attention to the path of your fingers, he would have known the eight letters that you have always kept deeply within, the third and seventh letter replaced with a heart.
TEN: COOLED TEA AND MOMENTS
Sunwoo’s home is quaint, just like how you remembered it. During those times after school when the library overwhelmed you, his bedroom was where he would tuck you in for an afternoon nap. His back leaned against his bedframe on the floor, playing games with no sound. After a well-deserved slumber, Sunwoo will tickle you awake. Sometimes, amid the booming laughter, the boy would get pulled into the mattress, toppling next to you as you use this chance to close your eyes once more on his chest. Occasionally, Eric and Millie would catch his adoring eyes at your smushed cheek. The couple would get a threatening glare, but they knew Sunwoo couldn’t move unless he wanted to wake you up.
His house is nowhere as big as yours, yet the love inside is bigger than any other building you know. Some of the furniture has shifted, some replaced. For you, the feeling of being safe in the place that you’re supposed to call home is unfamiliar.
Here, a step into his house is enough to know that it’s filled with love.
The evidence hung on the walls, capturing fond memories of the family of a nervous boy trailing behind you who quietly observes your reactions. It’s arranged thoughtfully, a framed memory since he was a baby up to now where he poses for a picture behind the till of his shop.
Sunwoo observes your smile growing each time your eyes move to a different part of the house. From the wall where he would blush when you pointed out how sulky he looks with the bucket hat, the dustless sofa, snow white cupboards, to the neatly arranged flower on the centre of the dining table, just enough for his family and one guest. It’s evident that, once again, the owner takes immense care of their home.
It’s so unlike your house, where there would be expensive art pieces placed in what you always thought to be the most inconvenient places—or maybe that’s just because you’re clumsy. Your mother’s glare from the upper levels whenever a person walked in the door would make them cower, having their hands tightly held together in front of their bodies, and a mental note taken not to ruin the house.
You continue inside the house with Sunwoo's guidance, careful of the furniture and making sure that you don’t touch anything that you’re not supposed to. Observing the behaviour of many guests in your house has caused you to exhibit the same behaviour, generalising each household to be the same. It makes Sunwoo giggle when you fold the silhouette of your outfit closer to the centre of your body.
“W-What?” You look back with pursed lips. “I don’t want to accidentally drop anything.”
“You’re not going to,” he comments, making a turn to the kitchen after giving a fond smile. “I don’t have much to drink.”
“It’s okay. Just water is fi—”
“So,” he turns his back to you, opening one of the overhead cabinets to grab some sweet white grains, “you don’t want cooled tea?”
It leaves you warm to hear Sunwoo recite your favourite beverage like that. The little satisfaction smirk he gives when he knows you well, the way he rolls his long sleeves up to his elbows to reveal his defined veins as he fills the kettle for the teabags, all leave you breathless. He isn’t doing anything significant, yet the pounding against your chest is telling you otherwise. As you know, the heart never lies.
You halt in the living room. The black screen of the television dimly reflects your figure; Sunwoo just caught barely on the side. Unknowingly, you stare at his reflection, your eyebrows relaxing and the corners of your lips rising to the music passing his lips. You catch a glimpse of his puckered lips as he whistles; it makes you wonder what he’s thinking about to make such a cheerful timbre.
It makes you wonder if he ever thinks about you as much as you think of him.
“Hey,” the metal spoon stops clinking against the glass, Sunwoo diverting his eyes to you. “Do you mind if I move the coffee table?”
Sunwoo cranes his head to one side at the question, but to your wide grin, who was he to break your interesting desire to move furniture? Besides, he’s curious about your idea as well, especially with the way that frees your hands at his approval, discarding your items onto his couch and dirty carpet.
The new arrangement leaves the space between the couch and the television empty, big enough for you to twirl around freely. Sunwoo arches his eyebrows, still trying to figure out your intentions. Two mugs clink against the moved table, his hands on his waist after. A doting and affectionate gaze falls upon you. The boy sees your arms swing side to side, eyes sparkling brightly at him when you turn around from the moment of freedom.
When was the last time you smiled like this?
“You look happy,” he comments, only to have you take fast, small strides toward him. When his hand is within reach, you take it into yours. “What are you doi—”
It's a bit awkward and very timid. Sunwoo’s shoulder freezes, and he almost faceplants on the wooden floor with the pull you exert unexpectedly. “Dance with me,” you suggested, guiding his open palms on the dips of your waist, “for old time's sake.”
A quick, cloudy flash passes his eyes, contrasting your brighter, clearer ones. For a moment, your smile slips away when he averted his focus as quickly as his protective instincts that balanced him from falling. You didn’t let go of his hand that was loosely on the side of your body, and Sunwoo gulps at the tightening hold.
“Don’t be nervous,” you assure him after the evident gulp travelling down his dry throat. “We’ve danced like this before at our graduation party.”
Sensing the tension in the air, Sunwoo clears his throat. “I-I haven't showered for like two days,” a measly excuse for you to give his yearning heart a moment to breathe. “This is embarrass—”
“Sunwoo, are you happy?”
It comes out a little croaked, a little suffocating on your end. Your heart clenches at the distance he has maintained since you left. It’s nothing like high school when he would search for your eyes amidst crowding hallways and classrooms, looking forward to having you in his arms. It’s nothing like high school because your bodies are still, and there seems to be no sort of longing in his eyes like yours does for hi—
“I am,” a quiet breath drew in from his nose, “very.”
The tears that were about to fall onto your frowning face seem to retreat. Your eyes trail up from his chest, reluctantly meeting his eyes, scared of what emotion he may show you when you get there. However, when you do meet the glimmering orbs that you fell in love with more than three years ago, it does feel like youth washes over you again.
It feels like you never left and that you just finished your graduation a few minutes ago.
Sunwoo nods firmly, his lips slowly but surely showing the same crescent smile that his eyes have. Your chest relaxes, lowering along with your shoulders. It hurts him to know that he may have hurt you. He rakes his head for ideas, wanting more than nothing for you to feel comfort in his presence, in his arms—safe and happy, just like how he wishes that you would always be.
Sunwoo relaxes in your presence, completely letting go of the weight in his mind and heart for the first time in three years. It makes your breath hitch, stopping your inhale mid-way. Though his larger hand is still shaking on your waist, his thumb still manages to give soothing rubs. His left foot takes a step to the side, his right following with the motions, inviting you to start moving too. Sunwoo unclasps your hands behind his neck, taking one of them into his hand.
Your breath stutters once more when he cups the back of your hand, placing your palm to his cheek. It’s a place that you didn’t expect that you could lay your touch on, but Sunwoo guiding it there willingly sends your emotions into a frenzy that only amplifies more when he closes his eyes and lays his lips onto your open palm like it’s nothing. He plants his palm onto his cheek after, and it took everything in you not to collapse.
“Do that again, Sunwoo…”
The boy took a good look at you for a while, searching for any reluctance in your eyes. There’s a flash of longing in his eyes when he pulls your lower body closer to his, your arms bending to bring his face closer to yours. Sunwoo places his forehead to yours, closing his eyes and focusing on the cooler air that he inhales. You follow suit, soon feeling his lips on your forehead. The feeling is too short, and it leaves you wanting more.
“Again…”
Your voice is fragile, and so is your mind as you ask him for another touch. Sunwoo heeds your wants, this time kissing the tip of your nose. He even swipes his nose with yours after, resting his forehead to yours with no intention of pulling away.
“Again…”
This time, nothing happened. Sunwoo’s bangs rub against your skin as he shakes his head, and he catches your downturned lips.
“I can’t do it again.”
“Why not?”
“Because you might regret the next place that I want to kiss you at.”
He leaves his reasoning open-ended, but you’re not up for that. You lean away from Sunwoo, craning your head slightly to match his height. You’re wrong about you being the only one who longs for him between you two. Sunwoo bites his lips, eyeing the way your lips are only centimetres away from him. The only thing he has to do is to dip his head down, and he would claim your soft lips for himself. Sunwoo doesn’t make his staring subtle, and you’re left pulling him closer by his nape to press a peck onto the tip of his nose this time.
It’s all so heart-stopping for you, and it reminds you that Kim Sunwoo has never left your heart. Just a few days back, and he still had the key to your heart.
“I won’t,” you affirm with a voice only louder than the shoes that glaze over the carpet beneath you both.
The little world you built for yourself bursts with the doorbell. The sound clangs him awake, making his eyes widen, almost as if he wasn’t aware of the slow dancing that you two were sharing. He rips himself out of your warmth, and your limbs freeze mid-air where you once held him at the harsh pull.
He looks away, eyes tightly shut as he curses himself in his head. “M-Maybe my dad forgot the key!” Running away from you—as he has always done from the very start.
Peeking through the peephole, it’s obvious from the leather jacket that it’s not the person that he is expecting. The unknown visitor churns his stomach, his instincts telling him that this situation isn’t going to be a good one for him. When he opens the door, Sunwoo is greeted with the smell of money in the form of a bright outfit and gold touches.
“May I help you?”
He manages to greet the stranger after a single gulp, feeling small with the huge sunglasses that cover half of the visitor’s face. Sunwoo didn’t need to see his eyes to feel the intimidating, judging ones directed at him from the lavish man who finally flicks his sunglasses off, a pair of stone-cold eyes behind it.
“Where is she?”
Taken aback by the lack of mannerisms, Sunwoo stutters before his train of thought comes back. The uninvited guest clad himself in a branded suit, mocking Sunwoo’s casual attire. Even so, status is forgotten when his instincts tell him to shut the door alarmingly. A raised eyebrow and a striking peer from the intruder prompt the feeling even more.
“Sorry, but I’m going to ask you to leave.”
An amused scoff, “Excuse me?” Tucking his luxurious eyewear into his blazer’s pocket, “Answer my questi—”
“Sungjin?”
Sunwoo turns his body towards your wavering voice. As soon as his eyes laid on your figure that was approaching the door’s threshold, a part of him just wanted to grab your wrist, praying that you wouldn’t step outside his home. But you did all that for him because you stayed frozen a few centimetres away from the front sill of the building, shock written all over your face and voice.
The finally named man finally shows his bright smile, his shoulders relaxing at the sight of your uninjured state—he, however, did frown at the sight of your casual clothes. “Hey,” greeting you and ignoring Sunwoo’s shaking orbs, “You were unreachable and I was worri—”
“How did you know I was here?”
“I tracked your phone.” Your heart drops at the invasion of privacy. The device around your fingers feels like it could mould to a different shape due to your anger. “You have to understand! You weren't responding to my messages!”
“Sungjin…” you shake your head, your eyes talking for you in this incredible situation, “We're not anything for you to be able to do that.”
“I know, but I promised your parents that I’ll protect you and make you mine.” He trips over his words, his polished shoe even coming into contact with the wooden floor of Sunwoo’s entrance walkway. “Besides that, I'm just worried about you. Let's get out of this dirty place. I'll get you some foo—”
“I'm staying.”
“What?”
Your palm extends out towards him, and the barrier keeps you away from the crestfallen face that he displays. “Please just...” you reach the door, beginning to close it on him, “leave me alone.”
Throughout the whole confrontation, Sunwoo held onto the door for support and his whole being focused on the words exchanged. So, when you’re the one who decides to swing the door with your strength, Sunwoo nearly stumbles and faceplants onto one of the panels of the decorated timber. A silence envelops you both, the boy taking glances at you before quickly averting once more. It’s not until the sound of the tyres drives away from his driveway that Sunwoo decides to replace the sound with something softer than the shouts of the angry engine.
“You have a boyfr—”
“I'm not dating him, Sunwoo,” cutting his words off quickly. “I don't like him even a little bit.”
He does believe you; he really does. But having a taste of your mother’s wrath, he couldn’t help but nod at the ant that casually passed by the tension-filled atmosphere. “L-Let’s get you out of here…” Snatching his jacket on the arms of the hanger to the point that the furniture almost fell out of balance. “I'll take you to a nice restaur—”
“I want to cook,” you declare, stopping his fumbles. “It’s been a while since I’ve eaten food without preservatives.”
“I don't have any ingredients…”
“I'll bake then,” turning your back to the exit and your ‘duties’. Already a step ahead of Sunwoo, you plant your feet in the kitchen where the jar of sugar used earlier still hasn’t been returned. “I'll whip up some of those shortbread cookies that Eric, Millie, and you loved so much back then.”
“You really shouldn't be her—”
“Can I borrow some clothes?” Condensation starts to form on your hands and wraps around the glass jar in your hand. Your voice quietens. “It's too uncomfortable to bake in this.”
You turn your back on Sunwoo completely, afraid of rejection first and foremost. To be more specific, you’re scared of being rejected by Sunwoo. You’re stubborn, he knows that---so you hope that he could also be on the same wavelength as you for once and be stubborn by letting you stay. If you turned back, you could see the happiness in his smile, but inevitably, the hint of worry was reserved just for your tense back.
“Okay,” footsteps receding to his room, a list of his oversized shirts in his head that he could lend to you. “Hold up a second…”
You’re aware that Sunwoo hasn’t been able to see your trembling lips and your massive control to keep your breathing rate consistently normal. When you assume that you’re out of his sight, you let all the tension in your body release, your once-blurred vision clearing as a tear escapes. The room spins slightly, your palm landing firmly onto the stone top in front as droplets start to make themselves evident to his humble home.
And as Sunwoo comes back, whatever thoughts you had are shoved away to live in the moment with him. He leaves you to change and soon his familiar laundry detergent changes from the perfume scent on your body. The classy perfume is no match for the cheap detergent yet your heart easing at being engulfed with Sunwoo’s baggy clothes.
The familiarity drives you insane, as much as it makes you sane.
ELEVEN: HEARTBREAK OR HEART BREAK?
The drive back to your house is quiet and to put it simply: boring and lonely. After a whole day with mischievous Sunwoo, how could you not feel this way?
Sunwoo purposefully hits your elbow when you measure the dry ingredients, continuing to do so even when you throw a handful of flour at his face, some even getting trapped in his long black strands. He returns the favour, laying the same ingredient on his palm before bringing it in line with his lips, blowing it straight to your face without notice.
It was fun, to say the least.
The kitchen cleanup was hell, with dry ingredients all over the crevices between the table, the wall and the floor, but also on both of your powdered faces. Dare you say a quarter of your time spent under his roof was cleaning up the mess that left his dad’s jaw slack open with confusion and surprise after a long day at work. You remember scurrying out of Sunwoo’s arms when a gasp is heard from the entry hallway, but Sunwoo tightens his hold on your waist, gleefully greeting his father despite the hits and shoves on his chest.
Just thinking of it makes the heat rise to your skin once more, both your hands on the top of your steering wheel as you continue your drive into the silent night. The way his father remembers you just by the back of your head, inviting you with open arms for a hug, made you melt into his parental warmth. The man even joined in with the chaotic atmosphere, grabbing the pile of flour on the benchtop that was supposed to be in the bin. Sunwoo’s yelps and complaints play in your head, a deep chuckle from his dad following after as he sticks his tongue out.
It was…different, to say the least.
Because your parents would never treat outsiders like that; they wouldn’t even be like that with you. The scene repeats in your head like a broken recorder, but it's one that you would never throw out. Even when you park perfectly in your designated spot, you sit with arms by your side, head between the crescent headrest, with the radio and its song. You stare blankly at the closing black gate, sealing off the entrance for the rest of the day as you know you’re the last member of the family who arrived home. The warm light flashes as a safety measure in the night, telling everyone to be careful of the moving metal—if only the warmth of the light is as inviting as the building beside you.
You flip the sun visor down, making sure that you leave no traces of baking ingredients for anyone to question your appearance. Sighing after checking, your hands blindly ruffle the inside of your bag for the spray bottle of your usual everyday perfume. Before you can flick the crown of the bottle, the remnants of the laundry detergent that isn’t yours linger between the strands of your hair, reminding you of the joy you felt when Sunwoo bashfully passed you a long oversized shirt to borrow. You remember the tips of his ears flashing red and the enamoured smile that took over your face as your fingers traced the raccoon picture on the front of the shirt.
“Cute,” you snicker, continuing to make fun of him in your head.
The cap of the small decanter clicks close and is shoved back into the darkness of your purse. Your heels finally click on the uneven stone, mentally preparing the excuses in your head as you are five minutes past your curfew. If only you knew there was no need to cook up any excuses because you couldn’t even slip your feet out of the straps of your shoe, your mum blocking the staircase where all the bedrooms of the house would be.
No greetings are said, not from you and most definitely not from your mother.
“Come here,” she commanded, inciting a gulp from you as you tried to steady your disordered mind. You stand within reach in front of her, trying your best to look into her emotionless eyes.
You knew then that she knew what you had been up to.
“Sungjin told me where you were earlier today.” The glare deepens. “Kim Sunwoo.” The name comes out venomously, her arms coming up to the cross, disappointed by the old friend that you spent time with. “Do you wish to be as foolish as that boy?”
The words stir something up in your obedient self. “Is my happiness foolish to you?”
“You're a child, and your definition of happiness has not matured,” she spits out. “Your manners are repulsive. You decide to come to Korea unnoticed, kick Sungjin out and bring shame to the family. You think breaking the rules gives you adrenaline, but in the long run, it's nothing.” You thought it was over until she delivered the final blow, “Especially not with a boy like him.”
“Explain that please, because Sunwoo is not nothing.” You clench on your bag’s strap, the material creaking at the pressure. “He's not just a boy to me.” Your voice grew dangerously louder. “He's held me in his arms, and he wouldn't let go unless I would initiate the first move. He's told me words that make the weight in my chest bearable. He's smiled at me to remind me that the world is not as grim, dark and ugly as I thought it might be. Yes, he’s not perfect, but he’s human, and he’s making an effort to make it better.”
“Foolish,” not a bit of mercy in her tone. “Those are all things that another person can give.”
Your eyelids fall in frustration, shutting them close to rid of the coming headache. Words never worked on your mother, and pairing that with how she hates Sunwoo, you knew nothing would come out of this. “It’ll never be the same,” you mumble under your breath. “Other people will never be him.”
“Thankful for that one,” she heaves an exaggerated relief. “No one should have entered that prestigious high school by kicking a filthy ball.”
"Sunwoo was a star player, mum. He even played for the youth state team. He's more capable than you think, so please stop assuming negative things about him!” You can’t believe that your tone raised, though not dangerously, but it ended sharp enough for a flare to start in her eyes.
The metal around his fingers grazes across the side of your face. “I don’t care what you want from me. You’re going back overseas."
"No,” you stood your ground despite the sting on the side of your face.
“This is your final warning. Go back and never associate yourself with that dog ever again."
"Don't call him that-"
“Hear this then,” you gulp at the sinister smile, her hand lowering away from your face to your hollow chest. “You don’t go back? Fine. But that puny bicycle shop? It's only a couple thousand dollars to buy.” A dark aura reminds you once more of how powerless you are at the bottom of the family hierarchy. The lady of the house made her figure in the house clear when she leans in to your stammering breaths, “Can you handle being the person that crushes his dream?”
TWELVE: FACING THE TRUTH & PROMISES
Your first attempt of telling your friends about moving failed as expected. You couldn’t get your lips to form the right shapes, awkwardly playing it off each time the topic came to mind. The thought of being far away from everyone made your stomach churn, but there was nothing you could do to follow your parents. The storm in your head causes Millie to jolt at the slam of metal against metal, hand over her chest to grasp her rapidly beating heart.
"Whoa," she nervously raises an eyebrow with a stiff smile. "What's going on with you?"
"Nothing," you mumble uninterestedly. Yet your words aren’t uncomfortable when your forehead hits the locker once more. The metal is disgustingly lukewarm; no coolness is provided to your head like you wanted.
"Are you just Sunwoo-deprived?"
You grumble at the teasing tone, "No, I'm not Sunwoo depriv-"
"Because he’s walking down the hallway right now, just so you know."
Your back immediately straightens, head turning everywhere for the messy untucked uniform and loose tie around the neck. To your expectations, some of his hair strands are out of place, and it completes Sunwoo's everyday look. The boy pats his pockets for his phone while you clutch your books against your chest firmly, waiting for him to notice your staring. Usually, you would run up to him, but you're needing assurance from him that it's okay to leap into his arms without any other words.
Millie also stood confused at your still self, turning her head between Sunwoo and you alternatively. She sighs at your fastened foot tapping, deciding to pop on his phone:
someones waiting for you dumbass
look up from your phone
Sunwoo's lips form a circle shape, eyes searching for you as he pockets his phone. At the sight of you, his lips curl up, just like his eyes. But then, his expression falls when he catches the pout on your lips and deflated shoulders a few steps away. It’s only when he extends his arms to his side that your foot stops tapping, and you shove your belongings to Millie.
You hop to Sunwoo's arms, leaping onto his arms. "Whoa there," he twirls you briefly with his arms wrapping around your middle. Sunwoo lands you on your feet safely, "Why'd you just stand there today? You usually just run to me."
Your shrug didn't convince Sunwoo, and the fact that you weren't letting go of the hug to bury your face into his chest only complicates him more. Sunwoo hums for now, threading his fingers between your locks.
"You know you can't lie to me, right?" The grip around his body tightens. "When you're ready, I'll listen. Whatever it is."
You nod to his chest, ears against his calming heartbeat. "Promise?"
It's now that Sunwoo realises whatever is troubling you isn't a simple matter. It won't go away with a good night's sleep and not with a hearty meal. You only ask him to promise you when things weigh you down heavily, and the last time you did this was when you pulled all-nighters for an upcoming test. You made him promise to let you take a nap on his shoulder after it was all over.
Sunwoo stops playing with your hair, tenderly placing his palm on the side of your neck. The touch sends shivers down your spine, and you pull away to meet his kind, gentle eyes. His thumb traces along your jawline as he places a kiss on your forehead. All the voices in your head died down, and your mind could finally rest.
That's Kim Sunwoo's effect on you. And it's powerful, just like his words: "Promise."
The sight when you broke the news wasn’t pretty. Eric found out from his dad, and Millie found out by accidentally eavesdropping on Eric confronting you about hiding it for so long. And Sunwoo? Sunwoo was standing not too far away, body still at the news. Of course, he congratulated you, however, he can’t fully say that he meant it. Following the realisation of his growing feelings, he wants you to stay.
The world weighed on you heavily as you drove to Sunwoo’s store. You feel like such a stalker, observing Sunwoo sharing knowledge about his passion to a customer down the street. Last night flashes back, and you can't help but flinch as if your mother’s hand, clad in golden rings, hits your now-healed cheek. You turn away, refusing to remember Sunwoo's bright smile as he waves at the little kid who jumps excitedly at her fixed camera. The mother thanked him before crouching to calm her child from disturbing other people in the store.
Maybe it’s a sign from the universe because after the satisfied customers leave, Sunwoo feels the attention on him outside. If it was even possible, Sunwoo’s smile expands infinitely at the sight of you. He wouldn’t tell you, but he spent the entirety of last night placing your cookies on his prettiest plate, stacking the perfect circles on the porcelain and shifting icing sugar to make the dish look more photogenic. His camera app dominates his screen time as he takes the physical memory precious time, setting the food as his lock screen and wallpaper- he regrets not taking a photo of you with it.
The muscles under your eyes twitch, feeling a waterfall. Unfortunately, Sunwoo’s eyes aren’t that good at spotting your sadness from across the road, jogging to your car in the empty traffic. You were still drowning in your thoughts that you didn’t realise his approaching presence, eyes dulling then widening slowly with his approaching figure from the corner of your eye. His knuckle taps on the glass to grab your attention, and you roll your window down to face him with slightly quivering lips.
“Are you stalking me?”
His hair strands are a mess, typical with a towel hanging from his neck and the creased button-up shirt. Sunwoo isn’t afraid to show this side of himself to you. Back in high school, he made it a habit to show up like this because you would be the one fixing his uniform and saving him from detention.
You prepared the rehearsed smile, forcibly pushing last night’s events out of your head. “Just wanted to see you working…”
Sunwoo raises one of his eyebrows at the unique reason, the corresponding corner of his lip doing the same. He leans in, an arm resting on the gap where the motorised window would be. His bangs dance due to the air conditioning of the car, the strands flowing freely.
“Kinda creepy, don't you think?”
He’s truly going to make you faint. One wrong move and his lips would probably be touching yours, and usually, Sunwoo would be the one to back away, but he was so entranced by you that the proximity didn’t even cross his mind. And once you turn away, his smirk flattens, lips disappearing between the rows of his teeth.
“Are you busy? Can I come in?” The sentence trails off but doesn't manage to go unnoticed by Sunwoo.
Though heartbroken at how you didn’t spare a glance at him, Sunwoo nods and fixes his once-bending posture. “Of course,” he invites you. “It was delivery day today, so it's very messy. Don’t tell me off! It’s not my fault!”
You give him the benefit of the doubt for now, nodding unconvincingly at him. The boy is prepared to defend himself when the entrance bell rings. You retreat behind the computer, ready to put sales through, while also admiring Sunwoo. The noises surrounding you blur as you keep your eyes on him. Emotions welled up in your throat, your mum’s voice ringing once more. You snap back to the present moment when the customer accidentally drops her film refills.
Sunwoo came standing to your right after. “You alright?”
You nod, but then sigh when you know that you can’t fool Sunwoo into thinking otherwise. “No,” your voice is broken with honesty.
“Let’s talk about it.” He offers, spinning you around to face him. Sunwoo pulls the gas lift on the chair to lower you closer to his eye level when he kneels to you. Your shaky hands on your lap are stabilised with Sunwoo’s blanketing them. “I’m all ears for you, hm?”
“Maybe later, customers might come in and-”
“You’re right. I should flip the sign to ‘closed’-”
“Don’t do that, you lazy raccoon.”
The animal nickname that you gave him slipped out unexpectedly, and Sunwoo is pleasantly surprised hearing the animal that has been associated with him coming from you. His stare on you softens endearingly landing soft on your widened eyes. You lower you head to your thighs, hiding your flustered look.
“Can’t catch a breath whenever I’m with you, bubs.”
Two can play the game when Sunwoo calls you with the nickname that he has specially for you. A deep red blushes across his cheekbones, yet Sunwoo tries to hide his nervousness by clearing his throat. He sucks in a wave of air through his mouth, momentarily chuckling and proud of himself for finally calling you with the familiar name.
His thumb constantly offers soothing swipes on the back of your hand. “I have something for you.” Sunwoo’s other free hand rummages through his things.
A box is what he extends to you. Inside, Grandma Lee’s accessories, keyrings that remind him of you, small plushies from claw machines that he overspent on, and handwritten letters from his yearning heart are what he has packed inside over the years. Every single piece differs yet compliments the other if you were to use all of them at the same time. Wordlessly, Sunwoo takes a clip and slides the bottom part of it across your scalp, adjusting it accordingly on you. The smile he offers is a mix of affection and disbelief that his gifts have finally made it to you. It didn’t end there, as he pulled out three similar-sized photo books from under the table beside him.
“It’s flimsy because I made it, but these are photos that I took when you weren’t here.” Sunwoo lays each book one by one, stacking them up while your one free hand holds onto them dearly.
That’s all it took for the tears to finally fall. You flip through the albums of pictures that he has compiled when you were away. Three thick books, each one for a year each. He documents the shenanigans that you have missed, hoping that you would know how much he thinks of you. He slips in a few scenes of views that you would enjoy, and arbitrary captures such as him accidentally pressing the shutter button. It’s all silly and fun. With Sunwoo’s calming voice and the tears leaving your eyes, there are so many things roaming in your mind.
“I’ve always wanted to give this to you. I didn’t want you to be left out.” Sunwoo takes the books away from you, leaving them on the counter, “But this little one is the most precious thing I have.”
Sunwoo’s voice fades out near the end. You gulp. “What is it?”
The boy almost didn’t want to let go of the final gift that he has for you. Unlike before, Sunwoo is reluctant to open the book, “Pictures of just us. And you. I look at it whenever I miss you. Open it later when you're alone.”
The one small book is filled to the brim, minus the last page. Most of them are candid pictures, some funny but overall mostly ones that made his heart race with just one look. It’s only when Sunwoo lifts you by the chin that you finally have the strength to look up to his eyes.
The pads of your fingers dig into the sides of the small book on your lap, muscles shaking with the force. Sunwoo feels all of this, heart shattering into pieces at your agony. Inside your mind, he knows something is in your mind, but he doesn’t know what it is. However, he does know that you deserve an explanation for all of his questionable past actions. Sunwoo lifts his bottom from the back of his lower limbs, lifting himself closer to you. He kisses your forehead, lingering on your skin before speaking up.
“Three years,” your body freezes at the familiar timeframe, “that’s how long I’ve been a coward for. Truthfully, anyone would argue longer. But for the three years that I’ve barely texted you back, had any contact with you, causing you confusion and pain, I really am sorry for it all, bubs. I want to make it up to you if you’ll let me.”
You shake your head, an incredulous scoff hitting your lips, “Why’d you do it?”
“Because you deserve so much better than me,” his voice low and daggers deep into your heart. “I knew from the very start that your mum hates me, and I get it. I snuck you out and stopped you from studying. But I was selfish and told myself that what your mum thinks isn’t what you think. But then, when we got caught that day and you couldn’t go out anymore…”
His voice fades as the air becomes heavier the more Sunwoo makes his heart lighter. Even so, you appreciate the enlightenment, and you would gladly take his worries, carrying them together. After all, when carrying something alone becomes crushing, another hand is just what is needed.
“I felt guilty for it all, and I guess I didn't know how to handle it. You’ve always loved going out, but after what happened, you couldn’t step one foot outside the house unless it was for school. I took your freedom away. So when I heard you were going, I took it as an opportunity to let you go.” Sunwoo searches for any emotion on your face: anger, sadness- just anything.
But then you bravely lift the corner of your lips, and your touch blankets his jawline. “I loved that day, Sunwoo. You took nothing away from me. You have no idea how glad I felt to be out of that house.”
Sunwoo lived in ‘what ifs’ till now about that event. What if he didn't take you out? What if he just third-wheeled Eric and Millie? What if he turned away after the first failed attempts? With your words, he finally lets all of it go, knowing your side of the situation. His knees give out, and he repositions his body on the floor, now cross-legged with his elbows on his thighs.
Your head shakes, eyesight blurring at Sunwoo’s audibly sniffles below you. When you lean your body to kneel in front of him, you embrace Sunwoo tightly. Your timbre soothes him, sweet nothings naturally sending his heartbeat crazy. Tears soak your collar where Sunwoo homes at, and the familiarity of seeking comfort with one another hits you like a wave.
“I was very happy that day, Sunwoo.” Your hold on his body tightens. “Were you?”
His bangs rustle against your fabric. “Very.”
“I'm glad then.” That's all you needed to hear. “Because the best thing in my life is seeing you happy.”
Sunwoo pulls his body away and clasps your shoulders, “I was happy because I was with you.” A tense gulp before continuing further, “You're the best thing in my life.”
Your eyes sparkle from the brimming tears around your eyes. The flustered boy uses his thumb to wipe them away, apologising for making you cry along with him.
“I love seeing you happy, Sunwoo. So, promise me that you’ll always strive for happiness.”
There it is: A request for a promise. “Did you know that when something is weighing you down, you start to ask me to promise things?” You still at the accuracy of his words, lower lip chewed in denial. “So I’ll promise you that if you promise me something back.”
Sunwoo guides your breathing, eyes trained on your lips only a few centimetres away from him. He tries his best to meet your eyes again, diverting immediately to hide the love hearts in his.
“Okay,” you agree between sniffles.
“Whatever choices you make from now on, you make them for yourself, not others.”
Choices. There are so many of them that we make in life. The easy, rudimentary ones to the life-changing, difficult ones. It's never been your forte as you're used to following what others have chosen for you. You're not used to taking your path, at least not without proper permission to do so.
“And if I fall?”
“I promise I'll be there to catch you.” Sunwoo offers his pinky finger out to you, hoping for you to take it.
You spend the next few seconds staring at it, teardrops passing the tender cheek where your mum’s hand was yesterday. Sunwoo’s hand starts to falter, but just before he uncurls the rest of his fingers, you capture and curl his pinky with yours.
“I promise.”
THIRTEEN: WHEN KARMA STRIKES
A few days have passed since that day. After closing the store, Sunwoo was able to fulfil your wishes for a convenience store dinner with your phone propped up against the window to watch anime. It's a miracle the workers didn't kick you both out with the booming reactions to the show.
If you did get kicked out, would the adrenaline that you and Sunwoo matched crash immediately? Would you notice your subconsciousness linking your arm with his? Would you notice the stolen glances by your side?
Because after that day, you avoid Kim Sunwoo like a plague.
Eric and Millie too were left on delivered for hours on end. It drives Sunwoo crazy to be on the receiving silent end this time, and he feels that karma has rightfully gotten him. He can’t complain; if anything, he should put up with this to understand everything that he put you through thousands of kilometres away.
His day off started with multiple attempts to get a hold of you. The pillow mutes his groans while the mattress mutes his flailing limbs. Apart from the fact that he's bored, he's missing you a lot after expressing his feelings that day at the shop. He curses internally, and he knocks a box that has been sitting on his bedside table.
The thud on his floor is met with a concerned knock on his door. “Are you alright? I thought you were auditioning to be Tarzan.”
The son shrugs at his father, “More like a dinosaur, but I'll take it.”
The man at the door shakes his head at his child, rolling his eyes playfully. His shoulder leans on the doorframe, eyes scanning the messy room. He stills at the photo frame of his full family on his son’s desk.
The elder’s chin nudges towards the photograph, "You definitely got your love for photography from your mum,” approaching Sunwoo’s desk. “She said that pictures made everything last forever, and she always wanted to look at them whenever she misses that particular time.”
The man rarely talks about his wife. Maybe it's his way of coping. Maybe that's his sign of moving on. Either way, Sunwoo knows that his dad holds his wife with strong regard and love as he stares at the photograph. The top part of the frame becomes dust free from his quick sweep across the wood.
“That’s why she loved taking pictures of us. So that when she left, we would never forget all the things we did with her.”
His lips dries at the thought of you. The bedsheet under his palm creates a whirlpool of wrinkles, creasing the fabric. Sunwoo has always loved taking pictures of you from the very start, it wasn’t only because you were leaving. But when he knew you were, he did start to take a lot more.
“But it hurts sometimes.” Now sitting up on the bed, he has a better view of his unopened birthday present from you on the floor. “It hurts to look at pictures of someone that you love.”
Being an active parent even before his wife’s passing, Sunwoo’s dad has the fatherly instinct on the same level as the motherly instinct that is commonly known. Those instincts only became better after being the only parent left for him. And so, just a single look at Sunwoo’s distraught expression, the dad nods as he believes that he has an accurate idea of what’s troubling his son.
“Have you ever told her that you love her?” Sunwoo’s face shoots up to his dad, eyes wide open. The silence is all his dad needs to know. “So you haven’t,” he concludes for himself. “That day when you both were cooking together, I could tell from your eyes. It's how I looked at your mum.”
“There’s no point telling her anyway,” he defends himself fuitely. “I’m not good for her.”
“Now, who dares make my son think that way?” The father ruffled the boy’s hair as Sunwoo grumbled. “The only words that matter in this situation are hers.” No other words are said when he steps closer to the door, giving Sunwoo the room to evaluate his behaviour. "Don't ever look at your pictures with anyone and regret anything, son."
FOURTEEN: TIES BROKEN
You’ve been staring at the cover of the smaller photo album for the last few minutes, trying to will yourself to flip to the first page. Every time your finger brushes the the cover, it retracts as if they’re trying to save you from something: from heartbreak, from the pain, from running back to Sunwoo’s arms and ruining everything in his life because of your selfishness.
“No,” stepping away from your desk and pacing around the room.
Your steps are just as fast as the thoughts ruminating and bouncing in your mind. It’s so disruptive that it overpowers the insistent knocking on your door. The person outside runs out of patience, revealing their furrowed eyebrows.
“Get out of your room,” your mum demands over your thoughts. “All the guests are coming soon. Sungjin is coming soon too and you haven’t done anything but shower. Don’t make others wait because of you.” With that, the door slams, and your body jolts at the resonating sound that you would assume you’re used to by now.
You turn your head away from the door, not yet processing your emotions over the past few days. You didn’t give yourself the space and time because you’ve been scared that you wouldn’t be able to handle it. Back then, if you ever felt the need to break down, you did it in the comfort of someone’s arms. Now, that thought will forever remain a wish. No one can no longer catch you as you break down, and the loneliness in the open room starts to hit you minimally. Before your knees gave out, you crash yourself onto the bed, folding your knees to your chest as you take the next few seconds to deny reality.
“I miss you already, Sunwoo.”
And he misses you dearly too, and he’s acting on it. With this dad’s words motivating him, he manages to throw small pebbles onto your window pane. The constant thuds of familiarity on wood pulls you to directly face the sun despite puffy, sensitive eyes. You squint to adjust to the lighting, looking down to see a certain puffed-out boy outside. His smile widens at the sight of you, beaming brighter than the golden hour setting before your skin. Your eyebrows knit, and it doesn’t take long before his smile slowly flattens at your shaking head. His fist clenches by his side, mustering the courage to stand his ground.
“Front door?” He asked, full of hope. “Please?”
Sunwoo leaves you space to think: to reject or to accept. The former you found excruciating to voice out, but the other option shouldn’t be challenged. All you need to do is to say the word that you said earlier when you’re faced with his photobook, but instead, your head nods, already imagining the relief of Sunwoo holding your figure tightly. You decide that his suggested place to meet is one of the many ways to be in his arms because you learnt from your experiences. You stashed a rope made by tying blankets into your wardrobe for times like these. One end of the rope is tied to one of the bed legs, and the rest of the tail is out of the window. The fabric hits Sunwoo on the head, causing momentary blackness and confusion until he notices the knots leading up to your window.
“Wait, wait, wait-” He flails his hands to you, “Hold on!”
Your feet dangle over the edge of your window, looking down at Sunwoo, who readies himself to catch you. Sunwoo tugs the rope, teaching you how to climb down without hurting yourself. You follow his words, except for the fact that you let go of the rope earlier than he expected, almost tumbling him to the floor. Whilst Sunwoo balances himself and you from the force, you immediately nestled your face into the crook of his neck. Your arms around his neck pull him to you closer, and Sunwoo has no problems with leaning down to make sure you’re more comfortable.
His fingers comb through your hair, goosebumps arising all over you. “You’re crazy, you know that?”
“You said you would always catch me.” Your ragged breath hits his skin. No other words are heard from you as his collar dampens to your tears. “So I have nothing to be afraid of.”
Supple lips meet the crown of your head. “Have you been crying alone?” A little nod from you shatters him, “You should’ve called me so that you weren’t alone.” Calling him might be a stretch, considering that you haven’t even texted him, but it was worth the try of reassurance. “I couldn’t reach you, and I was missing you a lot.”
It’s only now that Sunwoo realises that those words never left his mouth. He has showered you with lots of love and attention ever since you came back, but his words haven’t been the best at showing it. You grip the back of his loose shirt, only continuing to sob quietly in his presence.
His teeth trap his bottom lip, a humourless chuckle hitting the shell of your ears, “Selfish, right? After all that I did.”
You want to agree with him. Maybe it’s possible for the negative connotations of human selfishness to modify when it comes to love because if this is human selfishness, then he should be selfish more often.
Your hug around his neck makes it almost impossible for Sunwoo to see any part of you except the top of your head. He doesn’t push for anything else, understanding that he’s the only shield that you have from the world. Sunwoo waits for your breathing to even out, using the exhalation hitting his skin as an indication. An arm finds homage by circling your lower back, and his free hand massages your scalp with the tips of his fingers. His contact grounds you further from the physical stability he provided.
“What’s going on, hm?” You shake your head, not knowing if it’s in for denial or refusal. You thought he would leave it there, but the hand on your head slides to cup your cheek, pulling you slightly away from him. “Look at me, please.”
You can’t. Not when you have no idea what you would tell him if you did meet the eyes that hold your whole world. From afar, the gates to your house creak open, and the roaring engine swallows your whimpers and Sunwoo’s heartbeat despite the proximity. Gushes of praises at your two-storey house and the flirty tone of the woman churn your stomach as you imagine how she exaggerates her puckering lips loose to greet your mum.
“Where’s my soon-to-be daughter-in-law?”
Sunwoo swears if it wasn’t for you needing him at the moment, he would have popped in from the side of the house and introduced himself despite potentially making the situation worse. He wants to tell the unknown lady that you’re not her daughter-in-law; or at least that’s what he wants. But with no further communication from you two, and how you’re holding onto him like you’re running out of breath, his chest tightens at the sure feeling that something is not right.
“She’ll be out soon!”.
His eyes flare, turning his head to the side where the voices are, and there’s a prominent vein that runs along the side of his neck when you slightly tilt your head towards him. You’ve never seen Sunwoo with such emotion before, and your hold around his neck loosens to bring his attention back to you. Almost immediately, the fire dies, and his gaze softens towards you. His thumb caresses the side of your neck. A battle unfolds between your desires and protecting the boy that your heart belongs to. Your head only becomes increasingly hotter with how he presses his forehead on yours, something that you should be used to but never did. You hope with your chest kissing his, your rapid heartbeat goes unnoticed; because of him, and your emotions threatening to burst.
The slightest movement alarms him. His bangs tickle your forehead as he shakes his head. “Don’t go…”
There’s a lump in your throat, and you keep your eyes on his sneakers. “You know I have to.”
“No, you don’t,” he confirms. “Not unless you want to.”
To Sunwoo, it’s his subtle way of reminding you of the promise you gave him. For you, his words are enough to jumble your thoughts.
“I have to or else your shop-”
“My shop?” If Sunwoo thought he wasn’t understanding you before, he has completely lost you now. “What does my shop have anything to do with this?” You bit your tongue while prying yourself from his grip. Sunwoo did let go, but you couldn’t will yourself to widen the gap by more than two steps. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”
You shake your head, fists clenched beside you. “You have to go, Sunw-”
“Not until you tell me what’s going on.” A layer of moisture forms on his eyes. “Please talk to me.”
How could you? How could you tell him of your mum’s words from a few days ago? How she basically made you choose between being with him or taking away his happiness? How could you possibly make him choose? You know how much the store means to Sunwoo from his and returning customers.
You don’t want to be the one to take everything away from him. Not when nothing was his fault in the first place. Though hesitant, your head inevitably shakes at him, and Sunwoo could crumble and break into pieces.
"I’m so sorry, Sunwoo.”
"For what?"
You hope your shoulder shrug is enough to let this conversation go. Your throat constricts with the way Sunwoo grits his teeth, eyes training into you. You force yourself to make something up. For your voice to let an excuse out. Just anything; anything to let this topic pass.
"For coming back and making you uncomfortable. For hurting you like this and-"
“Stop,” his voice pierces into your words. “You're not making me uncomfortable, and you're not hurting me at all. If anything, that's me to you.” Tears start to well up, threatening to fall with each word that comes from his heavy heart. “I know I haven't been the best person, and I know I haven't made up for that, but I can't do that if I'm going to lose you.”
Lose.
The thought had crossed his mind a lot the past few days, but he never said it aloud for fear of hearing it. The word being spoken only makes the situation real, and you're aware of the clenching in your chest. Your heart beats against your eardrums, and the world slightly shifts, deafening the chirps of the birds soaring freely across the hues of red and orange.
Sunwoo’s palms rest comfortably on your shoulders. “I’m so scared of losing you. Of letting you slip away…”
With his words, anyone could safely assume that he’s the one that needs the comfort more than you. The single drop strikes across his cheek but doesn’t break his courageous smile. Instead, it only pushes the tears behind your eyelids to fall. Your thumb swipes his endless tears. His eyelashes flutter, breath shuddering at how gentle you're treating him. All Sunwoo does is stare at you while you take hold of his face.
“Don't be scared,” your voice breaks halfway. “I came back because I missed you so much. I never blamed you for distancing yourself from me. I'm just so sorry that you felt so guilty because of me, and I don’t want you to feel like that anymore."
Panic paints Sunwoo’s face when your hand flops to your side. You slip past him, walking towards the front of the house. As you passed, Sunwoo caught a glimpse of your wavering lips, orbs shaking towards the mud and soil. His fear prompts his hand to reach your upper arm desperately.
You shake his grip off rather harshly, turning around with streaming tears. "You said you were happy, Sunwoo. Don't take it back now."
"Because you were in my arms! I had everything that I wanted when you asked me that question!” Sunwoo’s voice rasps with each exclamation. Each breath surges with pain at each breath but he forces himself to blink his tears away. “Are you walking away because you want to? You promised that you would act on what you want…”
The reminder is grim, and your smile is all the more fake. The way you shrug your shoulders lifelessly is enough to tell you that you have broken your promise, and Sunwoo is left frozen with nature, blowing his body side to side with it. With his condition, a gust of wind is enough to topple him over.
“Some promises were meant to be broken…”
When you drag your feet across the soil, you’re partially aware that your mum will eventually find the trail of dirt across her marbled floor. You mentally prepare yourself for the questions, unlike your preparation to cut ties with Sunwoo with the words hung in the air.
Each step takes a part of you. Each step makes your body numb to the chilling wind. Each step is a confirmation of leaving him. Each step is full of your love for Sunwoo. Sometimes, letting go could be the answer to everything.
Never once did you turn back to face him and you ignore the urge to glance your eye to the side when you make a turn to the front door. If you did turn, you would have gotten your final glance of your first and last love. But you would see nothing but the way he hides his face from the world behind his palms, tears trailing down his arms.
FIFTEEN: PROTECTOR AND DEFIER
The day before your flight was your graduation party. Everyone knew of your departure by then, and Sunwoo knew when you both danced to the mellow music that he’s deeply in love with you. His realisation and the timing of it all resulted in him being dazed in his thoughts ever since the news of your leaving.
Your body sways with Sunwoo, and with how united you are with him, your departure is momentarily forgotten. Your dance partner being slightly out of the present moment has been a look that you have gotten used to. He knows that it’s not your choice. He knows it's for your best interest, knowing well that studying abroad would give you a great advantage in the job industry. He’s powerless, completely defeated by your parents’ valid reasoning. Running out of time, he finds himself thinking of a future without you rather than savouring the present with you.
Each song passes with no prolonged eye contact from Sunwoo, so your hands cup his nape. Your warmth sent goosebumps up his skin, and he diverted his eyes from the graduation poster behind you to your eyes. A weak smile stretches his lips when he realises the crease between your eyebrows.
“What are you thinking about?”
Would kissing your forehead be too much right now? Would it ease your mind like how his mind would? In the end, Sunwoo only offers a head shake. “How we first met.”
Sunwoo watches his words bring a big stretch from your lips from one ear to the other. You could taste the fried potato from that day, the wind growing stronger as you come closer to admire the waves of the sea, and the saltiness infiltrating your nose. The way that you and Sunwoo met was a little messy, and if it wasn’t for Sunwoo cutely panicking from his actions, you and him would probably be enemies.
That day, Eric and Millie were only starting to date, and you decided to give the new couple some extra space; you were also saving yourself from being a third wheel after being stuck with them for hours. It’s so excruciating to see their flirty remarks and not-so-innocent touches after mutual pining for so long. As the three of you reach the coastline, you slowly slip away from the couple, venturing the area yourself. It was just you and your snack against everyone’s delightful chattering. Everywhere you go, even the ones that are alone like you, content smiles lit the place brighter than the stalls and the colourful decorative lanterns. You wander almost aimlessly, not paying much attention to your surroundings.
When repetitive shutter clicks near you, your shoes plant themselves into the sand. You held the remnants of your snack tightly, ready to use its stick for self-defence. Your body whips to the side, trying to find anyone near you holding a camera. The person holding the camera is still unaware of the panic he accidentally caused. He leisurely clicks through his snapshots, rapidly clicking through the frame-by-frame shots of the beach and its setting sun as the background. He hopes that he can capture even the slightest movement of the sun going to sleep for the day. He did, but he also captured the way your clothes leave after-images as you turn around. Your facial expression is blurry, but that’s not a problem when you approach him soon after, a raised eyebrow suspicious of his work.
Prompt explanation and recognition of being in the same school is the beginning of your friendship. That’s also the first time that he showed his work to anyone else than his dad. It gave him great relief to hear your compliments. Ever since then, you and Sunwoo have seen each other at school more often, and he joins you as a third wheel to Eric and Millie.
“I’ll never forget your face that day,” you chuckle at how wide-eyed Sunwoo was, stuttering and panicked.
You both spent some time recollecting the early events of your friendship. When the memories grow closer to the present time, that’s when Sunwoo refuses to meet his eyes to yours as much as he can. His steps are no longer matching the music, and he holds the side of your body loosely.
Your heart breaks into pieces, knowing that the news of your leaving affected him much more than you thought. “Let’s take a little break.” You pull him away from the crowd.
Sunwoo rests on a chair while you leave for refreshments. The boy hangs his face low, sweating palms clamping onto his knees and fingers tapping hurriedly on his thighs. Shutting his eyes only rid him of the physical world, and he’s already imagining every day without being able to easily see you. The biggest transition after high school was only supposed to be how he wouldn’t see you every day from eight to three.
That’s it. It should’ve been just that.
Should he confess now? Would it burden you? Would it cause his friendship with you to rift apart permanently?
You’re only a few steps away from a deeply distressed Sunwoo. Your grip on the cup could have shattered it, the same way your heart is at the current moment. When you were finally in front of him, you placed the cup on the table next to you, crouching on the floor to look up to Sunwoo. You tried calling his name, but he barely gave a reaction. Your hands soothe over his hand, thumbs running along his skin. No words were exchanged, not when drops of water landed on the back of your hands.
“I’ll miss you…”
You nod, voice starting to betray you. “I’ll miss you more. I’ll text you every day.” Sunwoo dips his forehead to yours. “I promise.”
The hug that he indulges you with after dropping you off is the last one. Sunwoo was absent at the airport the next day, only sending you a quick text minutes before your flight took off. Even though the plane had access to the internet connection, your message to him would be left on delivered for a few more days and left on read for weeks after.
In between the chaoticness of a new life and unfamiliarity, missing Sunwoo had to be one of the hardest challenges that you had to overcome. Sometimes, during calls, Eric or Millie would slip his name nonchalantly, unaware of the situation. The weight of everything crashed down on one call, and the mention of his name was your final straw.
Sunwoo regrets not seeing you off. He let his insecurities beat him. If he was brave enough to confess his feelings, would you have stayed? If he important enough for you to stay?
He has looked for ways to blame staying in his bed and missing sending you off to your external circumstances like your parents. But he knew deep down that your parents wouldn’t stop him despite their hate for him. He wishes you would hate him for only reaching out during special days and practically ignoring you otherwise. But deep down, wishes for the opposite.
Kim Sunwoo has done regrettable things for the past three years.
It’s been a week since he cried for you. Maybe the world is telling him that he’s too late, and he doesn’t blame anyone. The world has given him many chances, and so have you. Maybe this is the time that he would learn to live with his actions. Maybe the world won. Maybe the world wanted him to feel hopeless and lost, the same way that he made you feel for three continuous years.
Sunwoo lets himself off with an extended time of rotting in bed. The ceiling became the medium for his mind to replay his favourite moments with you; and what life might have been with you. The pillow collects his silent cries. It's only when his hand outstretches and knocks a box that he faces reality.
Puffy eyes and fatigue reach for the now slightly dented box. Sunwoo has been avoiding opening your birthday gift but still keeps it by his side when he musters his courage to open your hard work for him. The ribbon shimmers from the evening shine outside, yet it never reflected in his orbs. His finger pulls on one of the long tails, inhaling deeply for the contents inside. A handmade raccoon keychain stares at him with its starstruck eyes and wide smile. If Sunwoo had a mirror every time he laid his eyes on you, he would know that the raccoon is indeed himself. A gulp passes his throat as he shakily lifts his gift closer to him, tender eyes examining the effort that you’ve put in. The slipped note from you congratulated him for his special day, wishing him lifelong happiness and health, as well as an apology if you didn’t do well with his gift.
“Yeah right,” he shakes his head with a smile, holding the raccoon close to his chest. “Lifelong happiness without you,” his palm clenches at the thought, “how am I going to do that?”
Kim Sunwoo loves challenges. He loves doing them too because he knows that you’ll support him on his journey, and waiting for him at the finish line. But if your finish line is his start line, then he would never take on those challenges.
Getting a wink of sleep was a miracle, and his dad would cheer if Sunwoo even left his room. His health declines, and the time he spends flipping through his photos increases. The familiarity of those photos makes him sane, as much as it makes him insane. The past week hits him when his messages are left undelivered even through multiple resends. You left the group chat, and your profile in multiple social media accounts are hidden from Sunwoo’s. You disappeared from his physical and technological world. The only thing he truly has of you now are the time that he spent with you in framed pictures and his memories.
“Fuck,” he humourlessly chuckles. “Is this what I get for being a coward?”
The beeping and ringtone of his phone blares through his room. Sunwoo isn’t fazed by the sound replacing the silence. He swipes his thumb to accept the call without sparing a glance at the caller’s ID.
“Hel-”
“Please tell me she’s with you!”
Beside him, Millie's distant voice is frantic at another person being able to bring good news on the statement Eric shouted to him earlier. Sunwoo’s back straightened, trying to piece together the limited amount of information from the two’s lack of air.
“Eric, what’s going on?”
“She’s not at home, Sunwoo! And we’ve been looking for her for a while now, and Auntie is getting so furious! I have no idea where she is! No one does, and she left her phone here and-”
“Okay, Eric. Take a deep breath,” Sunwoo traps his phone between his ear and shoulder. He stashes his essentials in his hoodie’s pockets. “I’m coming over now. Just hold on.”
Eric couldn’t get a word out when the line cut dead. Sunwoo drives over to your house, probably speeding past the limit numerous times; he decides a fine and demerits points are much better in the current situation. With every turn and adjustment on his stick shift, sweat rolls down the side of his face and forehead. The red lights seem like an eternity, and the green is faster than a blink. Taking a different route probably took longer than if Sunwoo just stayed put and waited a little bit more for the road to clear, but he’s not risking staying seated and watching the sun set with each second that passes.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he impatiently taps on the steering wheel at the road accident adding delay to his journey.
A mix of different coloured cars flooded the front gates of your house, some parked inside. By the door, Eric and Millie stood timidly side by side to an angry woman. The older one jabbed her index finger at Eric’s forehead, and just from his back view, Sunwoo could feel his emotions threatening to burst. It’s only when she directs her attention to Millie that Eric pushes her back behind him.
“Don’t touch her,” Eric warns. “We’re all trying to find her here. Let’s not start another conflict, Auntie.”
“If you had monitored her properly and made sure she hung out with the right people outside the house, we wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place!” Her gaze burns straight to Millie. “People like you and Kim Sunwoo! You’re the reason why she’s gone!”
“Auntie, I’m sor-”
“I’ll find her.” Sunwoo’s calm and determined voice cuts through the booming voice.
Kim Sunwoo takes the stairs with his chin up high, advancing closer to the three. The fourth person behind the door made his presence known, striking Sunwoo’s chest with his arm. No words were exchanged between the two, keeping their lips tight as each other’s existence surges and rages the bloodflow throughout their body.
“Get out, Kim Sunwoo.”
“This isn’t your house,” he spat out venomously, “whoever you are.”
Sungjin is ready to take Sunwoo into his own hands when the older man interrupts them. “How dare you come here?”
His turns away from Sungjin to his friends, relaxing his stern look momentarily before facing the cross-armed woman. There she is in all her glory, with her face decorated with the best products and her body complete with the best brands. It turns out that those are not necessarily what makes a person arrogant, but instead, it’s the way she keeps her chin high to him at the top of the stairs. The way her eyes travel down to him and his baggy, non-branded clothes. It’s the way that her one leg extends to the side, ready to shoot him down. Sunwoo has never been face-to-face with your mum, only hearing stories. Maybe that should’ve made him cower, but for you and him, he’s sick of the world pulling you both apart.
“I never liked you, Kim Sunwoo. You distracted my daughter from her studies. You never even completed university. You don’t even have the money to own a proper vehicle. How dare you come here when you’re the reason why she has been misbehaving throughout the past few years of her life?”
Eric and Millie hopes for Sunwoo to keep his composure. Contrary to their expectations of Sunwoo giving into her words, Sunwoo shuts his eyes, dampening the force of the external world. Just like the past week that he spends thinking about the dear times he has spent with you, he consciously recollects ones that would help him stand his ground.
From the time you made it clear that you still think of him: “You didn't forget about me…I just thought I was the only one who held on to these memories.”
To the times when his actions brought you relief: “You have no idea how glad I felt to be out of that house.”
Or your selfless nature: “I love seeing you happy, Sunwoo. So, promise me that you’ll always strive for happiness.”
To the ones that your ‘selfish’ self wants: “I came back because I missed you so much. I never blamed you for distancing yourself from me.”
To the ones that trust and lean on him: “You said you would always catch me. So I have nothing to be afraid of.”
To the one who cares for him: “I love seeing you happy, Sunwoo. So, promise me that you’ll always strive for happiness.”
And ultimately, to the one question that he finally has the heart to say aloud: “Sunwoo, are you happy?”
“No,” he firmly confirms. “I’m not happy.”
His words didn’t match the question that the woman asked. The blatant way that Sunwoo ignores her question only pushes the woman to break Sunwoo further. “You don’t deserve to be happy after all that you’ve done, Kim Sunwoo.” The woman won when Sunwoo nodded, a smirk slowly forming on her face. A scoff follows her victory, “Then be on your way-”
“Maybe you’re right. I don’t deserve to be happy after all the trouble I caused her. It’s the reason why I always thought that your daughter deserves someone better.”
“Past tense?” An eyebrow raises at his confidence. “You still don’t deserve her, Kim Sunwoo.”
“Maybe,” he reiterates the word. “But I wasn’t the one who made her apologise to me for something that isn’t her fault. I wasn’t the one to make her look over her shoulder every time she followed her heart. I wasn’t the one who made her think that she couldn’t lean on her family.”
Eric had to hold his laughter back at his best friend’s words. His nods to Sunwoo’s words, making the latter spare him a glance. Sunwoo meets the eyes of his best friend carefully walking backwards to the bottom of the stairs. Millie nudges his shoulder, pointing to the keychain hooked around one of his pants’ belt loops and mouthing about how their little boy has grown. It took Kim Sunwoo a few years to say these words out loud. But a win is still a win. Sunwoo reaches the bottom of the stairs, still keeping his body facing Sungjin and your mother. When he has enough space from Sungjin, Sunwoo keeps his arms to his side as he bows to the older one.
“Your daughter made me promise that I’ll be happy for the rest of my life,” he lifts his head steadily leaving the group with newfound determination to keep his words, “so I’ll be on my way to do that.”
Finally, Sunwoo’s back greets her. “You pursue my daughter or even be near her ever again, and I will close your shop.”
That keeps his feet planted to the ground. His shop is way out of context, just like how it was a week before. This time, however, Sunwoo isn’t lost in following the situation. This information must have been something that you’ve carried by yourself, and he comes up with a ton of reasons as to why you would never dare tell him the truth. He knew something was up. He wanted to dig further but never had the chance to. His actions right now are what pulled the trigger, and he steps in the much-needed ‘trap’ that your mother would never want him to know. The elderly man smirks, expecting another bow with pleas and whimpers.
Yet, as the sun is on its way to sleeping for the next few hours, Sunwoo encapsulates its scorching heat just for her as he turns his head. “You can try,” he shrugs. “I’m confident that I can protect everything that I care about from now on.”
SIXTEEN: WHEN THE SEA MEETS THE TEARS
As much as you hate to admit it, roaming out without your phone and jacket isn’t the best way to rebel against your mum. You're shivering in the sunset breeze, and your ankles, deeply buried in the scorching sand, are now numb. The thought of taking your shoes off was good, but you couldn’t find the energy to put them back on despite them being beside you.
Before you, the sun is slowly setting. Your watch tells you that you've been roaming for almost two hours with no hints of boredom. The bird chirps its departure song, and the melody fades across the horizon. The wooden bench underneath your fingertips grounds you with the help of the cooling wind, but you welcome it with closed eyes. Your shirt dances, making you tuck your skirt tight beneath your thighs.
The time when Sunwoo sneaks you out for the festival comes to mind. The act was thrilling, especially after working every single drop of your brain juice and overworking yourself to the bone. You drown yourself in your thoughts, the sun making your forehead unnecessarily warmer. You're afraid to face the place that bought you both together; the waves crashing only push your tears out more.
"Should I go now?" You distantly wonder. "Probably," You answered your question.
You didn't leave just yet, though, staying just a little more before the inevitable lecture when you get back home. For some reason this time, you're not scared. You're not scared of your mum shouting at you, pressuring you to go back overseas and never to step foot in Korea unless she wants you to. You're not scared of getting to the airport and saying goodbye to Eric and Millie until your mum tells you to come back. You're not scared of the work that the new semester will put on you and the stress you'll be under.
You're scared of your mind repeating the scene from last week when a certain boy decides to speak his mind- no, his heart. His words replay in your mind millions of times. The worst thing to see is a distraught Sunwoo, and it kills you that you’re why he is. It took a lot of self-control to walk away without looking back. The weight of your words only sunk during dinner time, and you had to excuse yourself from the table as you ruined your makeup. The girl stares at you blankly in the mirror, with no life or spark; Sunwoo has always been the one who put them there. Sungjin trails behind you and makes it his goal to understand the meaning of your distress. He promises to treat you better, better than Sunwoo could ever do. Yet, getting treated better by Sungjin isn't what you wanted, and it'll never be that.
Kim Sunwoo. Truthfully, if you could say anything, you just want to be with him.
It’s only when your mind convinces your mum’s threat is worth it for the greater future that you finally passed out for the rest of the night. Even so, you wish you could take everything back. You wish you could spare him a glance, maybe mouth the three words you’ve kept away for so long. Kiss him on the forehead, cheek and maybe his jawline. Pull him close and let him rest on your chest. To snuggle against him both when the world is loud or silent; his heartbeat will deafen them anyway. Spoil him with his favourite food and things. Split the workload at his shop; a measly excuse to see him more during the twenty-four hours. Shower him with lots of love and affection until you’ve reached the end.
It seems that heaven has been listening to your yearnings. Silicone slaps the gravel footpath behind you the volume and pace alerting you to turn towards a heaving boy. His neck stops turning at the sight of you and his steps gradually slows. Sunwoo ruffles the bangs stuck to his forehead, wiping any excess sweat and taking in the salty air. The corners of his lips lifts dearly, pumping his fists into the air to celebrate his correct hunch on where you would be.
"Called it," he shrugs after steadying his breath. "Knew you'd be here."
You didn't respond, keeping a straight face towards him before returning to the vast ocean. If you knew heaven was listening, you wouldn't wish for his presence right now. You're tired, speechless and overwhelmed with your audacity of running away from home. Your shoulders comes into contact with cotton, his gentle cologne behind you mixing in with the saltiness of the sea.
"It would suck to get sick.” He adjusted the fit on your figure, tying the sleeves loosely together to keep his jacket from slipping.
He walks towards the front of the bench, and you expect him to take a seat next to you. Sunwoo blocks the calming waves with his chest before kneeling to face you at eye level. As expected, you turn your head any other way than to him, but Sunwoo doesn’t miss the eyes void of emotions. Even with your favourite gummy smile of his, you still wouldn’t catch him a glance. A pout grows on his face when you ignore him, but the boy doesn't give up. His gaze lingers on the familiar photo book on your left. A calming smile overtakes his face, glad that at least you had it close to you like all the times that book was for him.
Sunwoo takes the heel of your foot, dusting leftover grains and dust away before slipping the spare sandals he bought to your feet.
“What are you doing?” You murmur weakly.
“Taking care of you just like how you always do to me.” Sunwoo takes your half-buried sneakers out of the sand, shaking them from any grains before setting them nicely against to watch the scenery. “Done,” satisfied with his work.
Your eyes are dull at the last bit of sunlight that shines over his hair. It prompts you to lean towards him, pressing a chaste kiss on the crown of his head. Despite looking away, you catch Sunwoo admiring your face from the corner of your eye. The pink and orange reflecting on your skin only awes him more, stealing all of his attention to you. Your palms are clenched together on your lap.
His eyes widen, perplexed at your act. “W-What was that for?”
You shake your head, shrugging your shoulders. “Just repaying you for all the times you kissed me.”
Then he chuckles. You wish you could record it so that you could play it whenever you want to. Your fingers push and fidget against each other, catching Sunwoo’s attention. He slips his hands between yours, pushing them away from each other. His fingers link with yours determinely, the same way he lifts his chin to look at you.
“Look at me, bubs.” You did the opposite, neck touching your chest. It leaves him crestfallen.
The only part of Sunwoo that you could see is his lower body, knees deep in the sand. It’s only with the breeze that your gift from him slightly sways, chest and grip tightening at the smiling face.
“Ddeonu…”
It’s a faint word, but Sunwoo caught it. “Is that the name of this little guy?” You spare him a nod. “You made him so cute. Just like me.” Sunwoo’s ability to lift your mood at any given time and place is truly remarkable. It was one of the first qualities that you fell in love with. Maybe it was the playful wink he throws in; maybe it's just him. “Did you flip through everything yet?”
You immediately knew what he was referring to, and you couldn’t bring any good news for him. It’s the truth, and you hope Sunwoo would be so disappointed that he would stand up and walk away. All you need is for him to tell you how much he hates you for not being able to do such a simple task, and you can go on with your life-
“Good.”
That’s the complete opposite reaction that you expected from him. Without a chance to go against him, Sunwoo traps your body between his arms by placing his hands next to your thighs. He pulls his upper body, drawing his face closer to you. It’s not the distance that makes you lean backwards, it’s your final attempt to hide your red and puffy eyes from the loneliness and weight that you’ve been carrying for years. But there he is: the love of your life so close to you that all you need is a few centimetres to claim his lips. Your hands find each other ones more, tightly shutting your eyelids.
“No, please,” his voices out painfully and in desperation. Stray hair is tucked behind your ears and he hushes his wishes, “Look at me, please. Look at me with those eyes that I love the most.”
“You don’t have to take care of me anymore, Sunwoo. I know you said that you would make it up to me, but you really don’t. I understand why you did what you did, and I ge-”
“But you don’t understand how I feel about you. I know that because you haven’t read the last page. Please look at me, bubs.” Midway, your breath gets stuck in your throat when Sunwoo nudges the side of his nose against yours. “Please?” You give in to Sunwoo. Immediately, his eyes glimmer when he meets yours. “Why didn’t you tell me about your mum and my store?”
A crease forms between your eyebrows. “How’d you know about it? Did you…visit my house earlier?” Silence grows louder than noise as affirmation. “Then, you should know what’s best for you.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He repeats. “You should’ve told me.”
“And then what?” You ask exasperately. “What would happen after, Sunwoo? Would you climb the fence and try to break in through my window? Catch me in your arms? Smile at me like the world hates us being together? It's not high school anymore! We're adults with responsibilities, and you wouldn't do th-”
“Yes, I would’ve,” he intently phrases.
Sunwoo clenches his fist, knuckles pushing on wood. He could feel his heartbeat against his ears, thumping as erratically behind his chest. You scoff at his words, and it leaves his shoulders slumping. Yet, that’s all he needs to finally voice out the words that he associates with you.
“I would,” he tucks your strands once more, cradling your jawline and draws you in. He breathes just above nature, confessing his feelings, “because I love you. I've been in love with you for years.”
Sunwoo watches as your eyes widen, lips gaping apart all the same. Tears form, trickles and creeps. Your stuttering feeds on Sunwoo’s fear that he's lost you forever. But as each second passes, he wants you to know explicitly something he has been hiding for years on end. Now, with half-lidded eyes on your lips, Sunwoo patiently awaits for you.
“You're worth the world to me,” he interrupts. “The store won’t close if that’s what you’re worried about. Even if it does, then I can reopen somewhere else. I’m confident that I can protect everything that I love, including you.” The gift from his belt hoop is unhooked, and Sunwoo tilts the soft toy so that its smiling lips land on the corner of your lips. “Ddeonu is confident too.”
He slips his favourite gift into your hands, patting and directing his head kiss your hands. Sunwoo continues to keep you at the centre of his view, brushing your hair through his fingers and bopping your nose lovingly. As soon as you let out the softest laugh between your sniffles, Sunwoo responds with a similar sound that dissipates all your worries. When your head lifts to face him eye-to-eye, Sunwoo is the one who turns his head sideways. A deep shade of pink brushes across his cheekbones, and he traps his lips between the rows of his teeth. The redness only spreads throughout his face and neck when you press a peck on his cheek.
Another one.
And another one.
Until he finally stands and lifts you off the bench with an arm under your knees and the other supporting your back. Along with your satisfying laughter, the pull you have by embracing your arms around his neck is what confirms to Sunwoo that this is reality. Still in his arms, Sunwoo takes a seat, sitting you on his lap. You bask under the remnants of the golden hour close to him. You rest your head on the crook of his neck.
"You're going to get hurt, Sunwoo,” clenching his shirt at the thought. “I don’t want that.”
"Life without you will hurt. I know that much.” You hum, drawing random shapes on his top. "What about you? What does a life without me mean for you?”
Your finger stops, gulping, “Nothing.”
Sunwoo caught a whiff of your shampoo when he craned his face to you. “Why?”
Plump lips kiss the tip of your nose, cheeks rising at the fleeting touch. “Because I love you. I love you so much that it drives me crazy, Sunwoo.”
If you thought Sunwoo couldn’t get any redder than before, he did. His skin heats up, and your body feels the effect your words had on him. It leaves you chuckling instead, teasing him with kisses along his neck as he shivers under your touch. You’re caught up in your act that it caught you off guard when Sunwoo’s arm behind you suddenly pulls away. With the momentum and your surprise, the smirking boy takes this moment to respond to the love you’re showing him.
Sunwoo claims your lips, eyelids closing to focus and savour the shape of your lips. He leads, pulling away slightly to dive back in. The boy pulls you back up, and you adjust to the pace he sets for you. He shudders and groans each time you pull away for air. Your breath is taken away by how the hand behind you wraps around your lower back, and the other guides your face to keep his lips locked with yours. It’s a little messy with occasional nose bumps, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Sunwoo either. Not with the way you intentionally place your hand over his heart, feeling his little heart jump at his affection with you.
When his lips aren’t busy on yours, he presses his lips to your face, whispering sweet nothings. “You’re so beautiful,” he admires before diving back in. “I can’t believe you’re finally mine.”
Kim Sunwoo had years of loving to make up for. He’s ready, but he needs to make sure you are.
"My beautiful girl, are you ready for the endless messages now?"
You fill his ears with an amused giggle, "As long as you send me a picture of yourself every day."
"You bet I will," sending another playful wink. "I'm sure you don't want to miss out on this handsome face."
You roll your eyes playfully, Sunwoo feigning fake offense. The book beside him comes to his mind.
He spares a glance at it before looking back at you. “Want to look through it?”
"Together?" He accepts your request with a kiss.
The sun sleeps for the rest of the night, the moonlight experiencing their love for the first time. It smiles beautifully to the laughter of the couple pointing at the funny pictures taken by the photographer himself. The ones that Eric and Millie took capture all the times that they might’ve been blind; or at least that is what the two believe whenever they see the now-couple together. Sunwoo screenshotted conversations between him and his two best friends reprimanding him about his behaviour towards you. Beside those screenshots, he wrote his reflection, spilling his heart in ink; some faded from his tears.
Before flipping to the long-awaited last page, Sunwoo had his hand over yours while you flipped it. In the end, you understand why Sunwoo is glad that you didn’t see it before he confesses. The three words being said are much powerful than the lettering. But something that words couldn’t convey is how there’s a space for a picture.
The outline is a rough sketch of the dimensions, and inside is written: If you accept my heart…? Hopefully…
The next thing to do is to clear. In selfie mode, you, Sunwoo and Ddeonu pose to the phone’s camera. Sunwoo can’t wait to tell his dad and everyone else whenever he looks back on this snapshot that this is his favourite photo out of all the snapshots of you and him. You too, would claim the say with the addition of the calming waves and the warmth of his body against yours.
Within his frame, both digitally and physically, together with him.
navi/masterlist!! 🤍 the boyz masterlist 🤍 part of 'especially to you...'
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