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the law of attraction

jongho x fem!reader

summary: Jongho was everything you weren’t: ambitious, diligent, promising—all in all the perfect law school student. Naturally, your chaos didn’t fit into his prearranged life. Not for long, anyway. Your silly little relationship was never meant to last. So how come you couldn't seem to move on? Of course, being grouped together for a semester-long assignment didn't exactly help your case.

tags: exes2lovers, law student!au, hurt/comfort, y/n lowkey has an inferiority complex, jongho is slightly possessive, best friends woosan (bc i love making them y/n's besties), some side characters from tbz/skz; warnings: alcohol consumption, throwing up

wc: 9.2k

a/n: this is my fic for the live alive collab hosted by @sungbeam! honestly i'm just so glad to have made it (or, well it's half past midnight in my time zone but i tried my best i swear t-t) i was really hoping my time management would be better for this, but honestly life wasn't really having it. either way, i hope you enjoy this story & pls check out the other fics for this collab!!

and also @ beam - thanks for letting me be part of this sweet collab. i'm glad to have had a good reason to write (and actually finish!!) something. love you lots<3

masterlist | collab masterlist

So maybe you'd overestimated what a two month break could do. You’d thought you'd use all that free time really well, to eat healthy and exercise and read more books. You’d also thought you'd be well ahead of all the assignments due during the break. And most of all you’d thought you'd come back after the break as a changed woman who is definitely not still hung up on her boyfriend that she broke up with right before the semester ended.

Reality however looked quite different: You'd eaten too much pizza, barely left the house, binge watched not only one but two TV shows, barely finished your assignments on time and spent an embarrassing amount of time crying over your boyfriend. Needless to say, you were most definitely still hung up on him.

Consequently, going back to school left you with mixed feelings. It all came down to a simple list of pros and cons, and you weren’t sure which side was weighing heavier.

Pros:

Getting away from your nagging parents.

Seeing your friends again.

Spending a fun last summer with them.

Cons:

Seeing Jongho.

Your friends are his friends too.

Whatever fun activities are planned, he’ll inevitably be there too.

It wasn’t that you suddenly hated him (surely, life would be easier if you could). But just the mere thought of facing him again ripped your heart in two. His words were still ringing in your head like he’d said them just yesterday. ‘Might as well end it now.’ As if it barely even concerned him. And just like that, it’d been over.

While it felt suffocating to be at home, you wanted to prolong your return as much as possible. For one to avoid Jongho for as long as you could. And then also to avoid your friends, most importantly your best friends. Because you hadn’t told them about the break up. You’d just pretended everything was fine right up until you sat in your train home. And then, the moment it had left the station you’d crumbled pathetically, sobbing so hard that a woman sitting in the seat before you handed you some tissues.

Of course you knew you couldn’t keep the break up a secret forever, but somehow talking about it was scary. Talking about it would make it real. Talking about it would maybe prompt your friends to tell you that you’d been stupid and that it was your fault, and you weren’t quite ready to hear that yet. Still, you couldn’t just postpone it all indefinitely and take the semester off, so you arrived back at the dorm one day before the lectures were starting again. Your room looked the way you’d left it. You hadn’t bothered taking any of your personal bits down while you were away, just packed what you needed and left—but when you set foot inside now, you were starting to regret that. You’d never noticed how much space Jongho had taken up in your room. There were pictures of him and you and your friends all over your pin board, along with tickets from when you’d been to the theater together. On your desk was a clover he’d given you before one of your exams (three leaves, not four, despite his best efforts to find one), that you’d pressed and safely displayed in a tiny picture frame. And then of course, on your bed, right next to your pillow was that teddy with its tiny head and broad shoulders that he’d gifted you for your last birthday and that you’d always joked looked exactly like him.

You wanted to throw it all away just so you didn’t have to look at it anymore. Instead, you curled up in bed, jeans and all, and cuddled that teddy close to your chest. You buried your nose in the soft material, pretending you could still smell him on it, when really it only smelled like you.

You must have fallen asleep at some point, because you woke up in the middle of the night, still in the clothes you’d worn all day, and with a terrible headache that kept you from falling asleep again. Since it seemed you weren’t going to catch much more sleep anyway, you stepped outside. The halls of the dormitory had been noisy and bustling earlier, everyone eagerly greeting each other and catching up after the long break. But now it was eerily quiet. Maybe everyone had suddenly come to respect the curfew, or maybe they’d decided to take it easy tonight since lectures would start tomorrow, and there’d be a huge party to kick off the semester on Friday anyway.

As you wandered the corridor, it took you back to the last day before the break. You’d aimlessly wandered back then too, unable to sleep after your conversation with Jongho, but not able to cry either. Not yet, anyway, because it hadn’t sunken in yet. It’d felt surreal at the time, like you half expected Jongho to show up at your dorm the next day to inform you that the break up was of course not actually happening. You could picture it so well, him standing there first thing in the morning, early enough to still catch the 9 AM train to his family home, making sure to tell you that you’re still dating, so you wouldn’t have stupid thoughts while on break. Jongho was like that, preferring clarity over leaving you guessing. That day though, he hadn’t shown up, and maybe that was a way of making things clear, too. You’d watched the clock ticking away, 9 AM passing you by, but you’d still held onto some hope until the afternoon, when it was time for your own departure. And even then, a delusional part of you was thinking maybe he’d show up at the platform to apologize and he’d hold you so close and you’d hug him right back, and he’d tell you to let go because you’d miss your train, but you wouldn’t even care because all that mattered was that Jongho still loved you.

It was only when the train had started departing and the people at the platform started blurring behind the window as you passed them by, that it finally sunk in. Jongho hadn’t come. He’d let you leave just like that, with a two month break ahead of you to cement the fact that you’d broken up. He was no longer your boyfriend. And with that realization came the tears, and it seemed they hadn’t really stopped since then.

By the time you wandered back to your room, it was already getting light outside, the sunrise dying the sky in shades of pink and purple that were too beautiful to match your mood. You closed the blinds to shut them out and sunk back into your bed.

It seemed sleep had eventually found you again. In fact, you slept so deeply that you didn’t hear any of your three alarms and completely missed your first lecture. Luckily, you had a really good friend, and he wasn’t shy to remind you when you met him at the cafeteria in between classes.

“You’d be so doomed without me,” he said instead of a greeting, “but of course, your best friend in the world made sure to answer roll call for you and even signed you up for the group project.”

“Thanks, Wooyoung,” you set down a cup of coffee in front of him as a means of compensation, “I owe you my life.”

“You really do. That prof is no joke, you know?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you sighed, taking a sip of your own cup.

“What’s been up with you anyway? We’ve barely heard of you all break. San was this,” he made a pinching motion with his fingers, “close to borrowing his mom’s car and driving over there to make sure you’re still alive.”

“That’d be a 10 hour ride.”

“That’s how much we love you.” Wooyoung rested his chin on his hand and eyed you intensely, “So, will you tell me what’s up?”

“I’ve been stressed out over the assignments?” You already knew it was a poor excuse before he called you out for it.

“I know that’s not it. Just tell me. I promise it will be okay.”

All his silly jokes and teasing aside, Wooyoung was a good friend and a good listener. But it still felt hard to put the words out there. It made you fell as if you were sitting in that train all over again, watching the people and the platform disappear, and your relationship with them.

“We broke up,” you finally said, immediately taking another sip of your coffee hoping it could wash down the taste of heartbreak lingering on your tongue.

“You—what?” Wooyoung looked flabbergasted. “When?”

“On the last day of the semester.”

“Are you—this isn’t some weird joke, is it?”

You raised an eyebrow at him, “Who would joke about something like that?”

He shrugged, “You’ve become pretty unpredictable, so who knows?”

“Oh, yes, I’m an enigma.” You rolled your eyes and the little banter helped you shove your actual feelings aside, pretending it all didn’t phase you as much as it really did. Wooyoung looked at you for another moment, clearly seeing right through you, but not commenting on it.

“But, uhm, if it’s true, then I have some sort of bad news for you,” he admitted reluctantly, his expression sheepish.

“Spill.”

“So, uh, remember how I said I signed you up for the group project?”

“No.”

“It’s supposed to be groups of four—”

“No, Wooyoung, please.”

“And San and I didn’t know—remember? You kept this incredibly relevant information from us, your best friends in the world—and we had to make a decision—”

“No, no, no—”

“It just made sense to group up.”

Great. Amazing. Splendid. You were stuck working on an assignment with your ex-boyfriend. all. semester.

“How is this my life?” You dropped your head in your hands, “And how come he didn’t protest either?”

“Ah, right,” Wooyoung seemed to only realize now that you were lacking this information, “Jongho wasn’t present either. Saved his ass during roll call, too, but I guess that’s not really of much interest to you.”

“No, Jung Wooyoung, it is not of much interest to me in the face of this whole group project disaster.” Though, you did have to admit that it was highly unusual for Jongho, ambitious, diligent Jongho, to miss a class unexcused.

“Understandable,” he nodded, “But maybe we can still switch groups?”

“Who would even switch with me? I don’t have other friends.”

He grinned. “But I do. Changbin is in that class too, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind taking your place. And he’s grouped up with Felix, you know Felix, right?”

You do know Felix. You like him too, though you wouldn’t go as far as to call him a friend. Still, being grouped with sweet, kind Felix would be much better than having to spend the whole semester working with Jongho.

“Would you ask him?”

“Anything for my bestie,” Wooyoung looked at you with an encouraging smile, “I’m sure it will work out just fine.”

Maybe switching groups wasn’t all that big of a deal, or maybe Changbin just liked Wooyoung enough to agree easily—either way, just two days later your friend assured you that the groups were changed without any issues, and Felix had even notified the professor of the changes already. He generally seemed to have taken up some kind of leading role, because you received a message from him that same day, informing you that the group had agreed to meet up the next Tuesday to make a plan for the semester, and asked if you could make it as well. Tuesday was fine with you, and honestly, even if it weren’t you would’ve tried your best to adjust your schedule to them out of gratitude for taking you in. According to Wooyoung, aside from Felix it was Eric and Sanha in that group, and because they were close to Jongho, you’d already talked to them quite a few times back when you’d still been dating. You remembered them as being pretty friendly and fun to be around and you just hoped their friendship with your ex-boyfriend didn’t make things awkward. Though, even then, it seemed like a much better choice to work with his friends instead of the man himself.

Maybe it was that silly optimism of yours that jinxed your demise. Because surely enough, when you stepped into the café across campus on Tuesday, the guy sitting next to Eric at the table Felix had reserved looked uncomfortably familiar: It was Jongho. Even from a distance and a slightly awkward angle, you recognized him right away. His dark brown hair, the black frames of his glasses, the neatly ironed collar of his shirt. It didn’t make sense. Why would Jongho bother showing up to the meeting of your project group? Even if he was friends with Eric and Sanha—shouldn’t he have the tactfulness to stay away after you went as far as to switch groups (something you were safe to assume wasn’t only in your interest, but his as well)?

You wanted to turn around and leave, maybe send a message that you’d suddenly started to feel unwell, or at least come back with a little delay in hopes Jongho would’ve left by then, but before you could do any of that, someone called your name.

“Hey there!” Felix greeted you with a bright smile, looking genuinely happy to see you again. He had a tray in his hands, four cups you noted, which meant either they’d already ordered for you as well, or a certain guest was planning to stick around for at least one coffee. You hadn’t seen Sanha around yet either, which filled your stomach with a feeling of unease.

“Hey,” you nodded awkwardly, “do you need help carrying that?”

“Nah, don’t worry. Just follow me, the rest is already there,” he naturally leads the way towards the dreaded table, “I hope you don’t mind we ordered for you,” he added, “Matcha with oat milk.”

“Oh.” Your gaze lingered on the cup you assumed to be yours, “Thank you.” Jongho must’ve told him your usual order. How else would Felix, or Eric for that matter, know? And despite the anger you still felt about Jongho being there in the first place, knowing he cared enough to order for you, knowing he cared enough to remember, awakened something else in the depth of your stomach. You quickly pushed it aside. It was just routine, it didn’t mean anything. Felix must’ve asked him if he knew your order, and he must’ve replied automatically, without giving it much thought or care. (But didn’t that have its own value too? Didn’t it feel inherently meaningful that your habits have become so ingrained in his very being, that he could recite them without thinking?)

“Y/n!” Eric pulled you out of your thoughts as you approached the table, a wide grin on his face, “Man, it’s been ages since I’ve seen you last, how have you been?” He got up and hugged you so naturally and friendly, it made you wonder if he even knew about the break up. You didn’t dare to ask though, didn’t want to bring up that awful topic so you just hugged him back, told him you’d been great and left it at that. You sat down across from him, next to Felix and at the biggest possible distance from Jongho. You’d wanted to glare at him, ask him why the fuck he was here, but now that you were actually close enough to talk to him for the first time since the end of last semester, it suddenly felt hard to even look at him. So, you focused on your matcha instead that Felix had placed in front of you, appreciating the latte art that fittingly almost looked like a clover.

“When’s Sanha joining us?” You asked, trying to come off as casual and relaxed and driving home that air of nonchalance by taking a sip of your drink.

“Oh, you didn’t know?” Eric sounded surprised. “Him and Jongho switched groups.”

You choked so badly on your matcha you almost spat it in his face, and gratefully accepted the tissue that was handed to you, before even realizing it was Jongho who handed it to you.

“It’s a good thing though,” Eric easily continued, “I love Sanha, but I think with Jongho in our group we have a pretty good chance of getting an A+, don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” you were still barely able to breathe, “Right.”

You tried your best to keep it together while Eric and Felix were there, focusing on the project and assigning tasks for everyone until the next meet up. The moment they left though, and it was just you, who’d purposely lingered, and Jongho who, for some reason, had stayed behind as well, you exploded.

“What the fuck?!” You hissed, quiet enough not to make a scene, but not holding back any of the anger seeping into your voice.

“Someone’s angry, huh?”

You wanted to spit in his annoyingly composed face. How could he remain this calm? Did seeing you again not phase him at all?

“Of course I’m angry! Why did you change groups?!”

He shrugged, “I could ask you the same, no?”

“You could’ve at least said something! Then I wouldn’t have bothered switching!”

“You didn’t say anything either,” A grin slipped onto his features, “And considering these are my friends, couldn’t you have anticipated this to happen? Did you maybe want to work with me?”

Maybe you hadn’t thought this through. Why hadn’t this occurred to you? But then why didn’t he tell anyone? If not you, why not at least Wooyoung and San? After all, it concerned them, too! You shoved the last of your notes into your bag, not caring at all about the way the paper crinkled beneath your fingers.

“Whatever, guess I’ll just have to change back.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure the professor will love that. He already seemed mildly annoyed about switching the groups once, I’m sure doing it again will leave a great impression,” he handed you your ballpoint pen that you hadn’t realized was still laying on the table, “We’ve already distributed tasks anyway, just roll with it. Switching now will just make more work for everyone.”

He was right. Of course, he was right. Perfect, smart Jongho tended to be right about everything. Guess you were stuck with Jongho in your project group, again.

“Don’t kill me for saying this, and I do feel so sorry—but this situation is also kind of hilarious,” Wooyoung looked at you with mirth in his eyes, while San next to him was slurping up his ramyeon without much care.

“No, I absolutely will kill you, how is this hilarious?!”

“I mean—both of you switching groups to avoid each other and then ending up in the same group again? That must be some crazy fate.”

“Yeah, right, fate, or maybe a certain someone,” you stared him down extra hard, “isn’t as close to his friends as he thinks he is, or else I’m sure Changbin would’ve told you about this and we could’ve avoided the whole mess.”

“Honestly,” San intervened, mouth still full, “even Changbin seemed surprised when Sanha showed up to the group meet up. Jongho must’ve just given him the time and place and left it at that.”

Huh. “That’s—weird.” Jongho was usually a bit more…organized? Than that? Normally, he would’ve at least given someone in his group a heads up, wouldn’t he?

“Hm,” Wooyoung hummed, a small encouraging smile on his face, “I suppose he’s struggling with the break up just as much as you are.”

That thought honestly made you feel a little better. You weren’t the only one having a hard time. Jongho was struggling too. Why else would he have bothered to switch groups in the first place?

“To be honest though—I’m still confused about the break up. I get if you don’t want to talk about it, but it feels so sudden. Weren’t you still all over each other at the end of the semester? What happened?”

“Yeah,” San echoed as he finished the last of his noodles, “What happened?”

You chewed on your lower lip, unsure what to say, “It’s just…. He’s an ass?”

“Oh, god,” Wooyoung’s jaw tensed, “if he cheated on you I’ll literally kill him.”

“No!” You sighed. “He didn’t cheat.”

“Thank god, I’m not ready to defend someone in court,” San let out a breath of relief, “Especially not for murder. Because, legally, this wouldn’t even be manslaughter.”

“It’d definitely be manslaughter. It’d be all the heat of the moment, a non-malicious crime of passion. Not that I’d be dumb enough to get caught.”

“It would not be manslaughter,” you agreed with San, “but there’s no killing happening anyway. As I said, he didn’t cheat.”

Wooyoung didn’t seem really convinced as he eyed you critically. “Then why? What happened?”

“It just wasn’t meant to be,” you shrugged, unable to meet his gaze, in fear he’d see right through you and the fact that the break up was all your fault. “Why are you so surprised? You didn’t even like him when we first started dating.”

“I didn’t not like him!”

“You called him a stuck up prick.”

“A silver spoon snob, too,” San added.

“Why are y’all ganging up on me?” He huffed in offense, “And that was all just because I thought I needed to protect you! Before I knew how cute he actually is behind that serious face.”

“You date him then.”

“Nah, my bestie’s ex is off limits.”

“Right,” you rolled your eyes at him, “If that’s all that’s stopping you, then you have my blessings.”

Wooyoung grinned, “Don’t regret that later when you’ll inevitably want him back.”

“I won’t.” What a stupid lie, when you’d never wanted to break up in the first place. But what right did you even have to want him back?

“Besides,” Wooyoung added, “until I hear a proper reason for the break up, I doubt the legal validity of it. In my books you’re still married until proven otherwise.”

“Isn’t the fact that we both wanted to avoid each other so bad we switched groups proof enough that we’re over for good?”

“Nice try, mittens. You switched groups precisely because you’re not over at all.”

Working in a group with Jongho was exhausting. Eric had a point—chances of getting an A+ with Jongho wasn’t unlikely, after all he was a perfectionist. Unfortunately though, he made that everyone’s business. As you analyzed the case your group was given for the assignment, he nitpicked every little detail, to make sure you weren’t missing anything. And maybe, under different circumstances, you could’ve appreciated it. Jongho wasn’t usually rude or harsh about his criticism, just honest. But with everything that had happened between the two of you, it felt hard not to take every little comment personally. Even when you knew his criticism was valid, you couldn’t stop yourself from feeling like he was judging your work more harshly than anyone else’s out of the grudge he held for you. So, you argued back, pathetically defended your stance as if it was a client you knew all too well was guilty and yet pleaded innocent.

“The buildings shared a wall, Neighbour B should’ve informed Neighbour A before tearing it down,” Jongho calmly stated and you knew he had a point. You knew, and yet—

“It was B’s property, why would they have to inform anyone about a decision that only concerns their building?” you shot back, less calm, less collected, less fit to be a good lawyer.

“It does concern the other party, though. They suffered damages,” Jongho frowned, and you could tell by the expression on Felix’ and Eric’s faces that they felt uncomfortable, but you couldn’t bring yourself to back down.

“It’s not like A would’ve had any right to stop them, so why make a big deal out of it before anything even happened? It wouldn’t have changed anything!”

“Right,” he huffed, “Why bother talking about things, when the decision was already made, huh?” Something flashed through Jongho’s eyes, bitter, hurt, angry.

Felix cleared his throat, “Uhm, guys, are we still talking about the case?”

The mask of indifference returned to Jongho’s face, “Obviously.”

“What else would we be talking about,” you added, but your voice was barely convincing. Truthfully, you didn’t know. It didn’t feel like it.

Once the group session was concluded you hurried to pack up your things, this time not at all interested in staying back with Jongho again, but it seemed you weren’t getting much of a choice. The second you’d stuffed everything into your back, you bid them farewell and rushed out of the café, but Jongho easily caught up to you.

“Let’s talk.”

“I don’t have anything to talk about,” you replied with a dry voice, starting to make your way towards the campus.

“Well, then just listen. Because I have something to talk about.”

You rolled your eyes but still stopped and turned around to look at him. “Let’s hear it then.”

“I know we broke up,” he started and it felt like the worst way to start a conversation, honestly, “But that doesn’t mean you can sabotage the group.”

“I’m not sabotaging anything.”

“You get snippy whenever I criticize anything.”

You want to kill him. For a brief moment you feel like maybe, breaking up was the right choice. “Maybe your criticism isn’t all that great, Jongho, ever considered that? Maybe you are not actually smarter than everyone else.”

You didn’t truly believe what you were saying but he was stunned for a moment and then, to your surprise, shrugged. “Fair enough. Still, I’d prefer not to have arguments in the group that feel so personal.”

“Well, I’m sorry for having feelings. Not surprising that you can’t relate to that though.”

His face hardened ever so slightly, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that just because you can pretend the break up didn’t happen and are completely fine, the same doesn’t have to apply to me.”

“Well, just because I’m not dealing with it the same way as you doesn’t mean I don’t care at all!” His face was gleaming with an anger so intense, it might’ve scared you under different circumstances. But right now you felt smug about finally breaking his mask of calm indifference. It was satisfying. Maybe you couldn’t make him love you, but you at least still mattered enough to make him angry.

“And besides,” he continued, “Y/n, you broke up with me! You don’t get to talk to me like that.”

And he was right. It was you who'd said the words first. But you'd never meant them, not really. You'd just felt so inadequate, like a stain on Jongho's perfect life. He'd always been just a little bit too perfect to be a real person; prestigous family, flawless CV, perfect grades, and despite all that somehow still a loveable personality. You on the other hand were lacking both brains and ambition, only studying law to somehow satisfy your parents despite knowing they would never be satisfied anyway. And then, when Jongho had gotten a job offer at a renown law firm at the end of last semester while you struggled to even get internships, you'd felt you'd lost your place next to him once and for all. So you'd asked him to break up, not because that was what you'd wanted, but because you'd hoped he would stop you and assure you of your right to remain by his side. But instead, when you'd spit your stupid lies about how we'd never last in the real world anyway, he'd just huffed a laugh. Sure, he'd said, Might as well end it now.

You swallowed around the lump clogging your throat. “Maybe I broke up, but you sure had no qualms agreeing to it."

"What?” He let out a sarcastic laugh, “Should I have begged for you to stay?"

"Yes! Yes, you should have!" A timid ‘why didn’t you?’ hung in the air, unspoken.

There was defeat in his voice when he finally spoke up again, "You didn't want me, y/n."

He couldn’t be further from the truth. "I always wanted you." You’d just needed assurance, needed to know he wanted you enough to fight for you. But he didn’t.

In your peripheral vision, you spotted Felix and Eric coming out of the café as well. Felix headed down the street, but Eric was coming your way. Jongho must’ve spotted him too, by the way his demeanor seemed to change at the blink of an eye. It was a subtle shift, maybe not even noticeable to anyone else. But you noticed in the way he let go of the tension in his jaw, in the way the anger disappeared from his eyes.

"Then you shouldn’t have broken up with me," was all he said, calm, definite, the end of a conversation. And of course he was right, as he always was: you shouldn’t have. But why didn’t he call you out on it? Why didn’t he say you don’t mean that, so you could’ve said you’re right, you always are. But maybe the fact you wanted him to take responsibility for your behavior, wanted him to make up for the mistake you made, was one of the reasons he’d decided to go along with it instead.Because who would want to date a person like that?

"All good?" You heard Eric ask as he approached the two of you.

"Yeah, no worries." Jongho’s response barely reached you, like the tears welling up in your eyes were clogging your ears, too.

Right. You trailed behind them, not particularly caring about joining their conversation and rather focusing on keeping yourself from crying. No worries. The words rang in your head like they were mocking you. As if all of this meant nothing, was nothing to worry about. But maybe those were his true feelings. Might as well end it now, right?

When you got out of your last lecture of the day, still sorta out of it, you were suddenly met with a bubbly Eric jogging up next to you.

He grinned, “Did you enjoy the lecture as much as I did?”

“Uh, yeah, totally.”

“I especially loved the part where he talked about penguins.”

Why would your criminal law professor talk about penguins? “To be honest I was only physically there,” you admitted sheepishly and Eric laughed.

“Yeah, I could tell. I was sitting like, right behind you. You didn’t even notice.”

“Sorry,” you scrunched up your face in apology.

“Nah, it’s fine,” he naturally fell into step with you, “Are you headed home?”

“Yeah, you?”

“Got another lecture.”

“I see.”

For a moment it was quiet between the two of you, before Eric picked the conversation back up, “What are you doing Thursday?”

You raised an eyebrow, “Am I supposed to be doing something on Thursday?”

“My roomie and I are hosting a party, you should come.”

“I—uh,” your brain was already coming up with an excuse, but Eric wasn’t done talking yet,

“It seemed like you could use some distraction? And Jongho already said he wouldn’t be there, don’t worry—you know how he isn’t one to go out on a weekday.”

Neither am I, you wanted to argue, but Eric was right, wasn’t he? Maybe you could use some distraction. You yearned for a night of dancing and laughing and partying and not thinking about your ex.

“I’ll think about it?”

“Nice!” He grinned widely, “I’ll text you the address. Oh, and you should bring your friends along too—Wooyoung and San, right?”

“I just said I—” but he suddenly seemed to be in a rush to get to his lecture,

“I’ll see you there!” he said as if it was already a sure fact, and perhaps it was.

“Yeah, sure,” you sighed and watched him disappear, before you fished out your phone and opened the group chat.

Party on thursday @ eric’s you texted and it didn’t even take a minute before the replies came in

woo: noice

san: pregame at our place?

woo: U can come by at 6 y/nnie

The party was nice. The music was good and the people were friendly enough that it felt easy to mingle. Felix was there, too, as well as Changbin who immediately roped Wooyoung into a round of beer pong. They played against some of his friends that you didn’t know at first, before you were convinced to go up against them together with Eric’s roommate, Juyeon, in the next round.

Unfortunately you weren’t gifted at all and Juyeon wasn’t gifted enough to balance it out. You let out a sigh as your ball once again bounced off the rim of a cup before ultimately falling onto the table.

“We’ll get the next one,” Juyeon assured, but you both knew there wouldn’t be a next one, unless Wooyoung missed his shot too. He and Changbin already had you down to the last cup, and you could already feel the slight dizziness of the alcohol in your body.

“Hope you’re still thirsty,” Wooyoung teased with a grin as he lifted his hand to aim. You wanted to say something back, but right then someone walked through the door behind him. Jongho. What was he doing here? It was so unlike him to go out during the week. Why would he suddenly change things up?

His gaze flitted over the people in the room.

Wooyoung made his toss. The ball hit the rim of the cup, circling it once, twice.

Jongho’s eyes landed on you.

The ball dropped into the cup.

Juyeon said something consoling. Wooyoung and Changbin celebrated with a loud cheer and a tight hug. You felt like throwing up.

The winning team slid their remaining cups to your side of the table, while Jongho averted his gaze and made his way over to the kitchen area. You grabbed the first cup and downed it, hoping to swallow the sick feeling along with it, then the next and the next until there wasn’t a single one left. There was cheering and hollering, but you didn’t listen, nor did you care, because all that mattered was that Jongho was here.

“I could’ve emptied some too, you know? You didn’t have to drink by yourself,” Juyeon looked at you with a mixture of surprise and worry.

“I was just so thirsty?” You forced and laugh and wanted to playfully nudge his side, but the movement made you lose your balance that you only regained by grabbing onto the edge of the table, “Oh, oops,” you tried not to slur your speech, but you suddenly realized how drunk you were. It made you feel pathetic and embarrassed.

“Are you okay?” Juyeon’s hand hovered over your back, not quite touching you but ready to steady you if needed.

“I—uhm,” you still felt so sick, probably more so than before, because, unsurprisingly, beer wasn’t the best medicine for an upset stomach. You blinked, slowly. The world was spinning.

“I think you could use some fresh air,” Juyeon concluded and you just nodded stupidly. He led you towards one of the closed doors in the apartment, a bedroom, you realized, and then towards the full height window, that turned out to be a balcony door as you got closer.

You let out a marvelling “Oooh” as he opened the door and maneuvered you onto the bench outside.

“Wait here, I’ll get you a glass of water, alright?”

You nodded and somewhat registered him leaving, but your eyes were fixed onto the blinking lights of the city that laid before you like a carpet of stars. It was really beautiful. There was a flowerpot in the corner. Maybe you had to puke.

Jongho was on his way home when Sanha called him. He already figured it would be about Eric’s party before he even picked up—he’d seen the messages in their 00z group chat. He picked up with a sigh.

“Why are you even bothering? You know I won’t come,” he said instead of a greeting. Jongho didn’t like going out during the week, especially if he had an early lecture the next day like he did tomorrow.

Sanha huffed and Jongho could see his grin before his inner eye.

“What?”

“Well, I’m pretty sure I’ll be able to change your mind,” his friend replied. Jongho could hear music and voices in the background, Sanha must’ve already arrived at Eric’s.

“How so?” He doubted there was anything Sanha could say now to make him come running, but he couldn’t deny that his curiosity was piqued, if only ever so slightly.

“Y/n is here.”

Jongho stopped in his tracks. That couldn’t be. Why would you be at Eric’s party? When he asked Sanha that exact question, the other seemed a lot less irritated by the fact.

“I suppose she was invited?”

“But why?! And why would she come?!”

“She probably accurately assumed that you wouldn’t come.”

No, fuck that. Jongho was definitely going. He had to. He turned around on the spot and walked back towards the bus station with quick steps. He wouldn’t make the next bus, but the one after it should work. “I’ll be there in 15, maybe 20 minutes.”

Sanha let out a laugh at the other end of the line, “I knew you’d say that. After all you even made me switch groups just to be on the s—”

“Shut up,” Jongho interrupted him, “Don’t talk about that when you and the whole world are at Eric’s right now. I don’t really need anyone to know.”

“Mhm,” Sanha hummed, “Just remember you still owe me that coffee.”

“Yeah, sure,” Jongho rolled his eyes. He’d reached the main street now and he could see the earlier bus at the intersection. As expected, he wasn’t going to make that one unless he ran.

“By the way, when did y/n get so chummy with Juyeon? Did they know each other?”

Jongho felt the breath being knocked out of his lungs, “What?”

“They’ve been talking for quite a while now, and she’s been laughing a lot. Since when is Juyeon funny?”

“He’s not.” Jongho hastened his steps, eyes fixed on the bus getting closer. Actually, he could probably still make that one.

“Right? Anyway it seems they’ve teamed up at beer pong.”

You sucked at beer pong. You’d probably get drunk. Or Juyeon could play the gentleman and drink for you and make you fall for his stupidly pretty face and tall frame. Yeah, no.

Jongho fell into a jog before he straight up started running while the bus was rolling into the stop. He made it just in time before the doors closed.

“You good?” Sanha asked when he heard his heavy breathing through the line.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be there in ten.”

“Ten suddenly?”

“Caught a bus earlier than expected.”

Sanha laughed. “Someone’s desperate.”

“Just shut up and have a drink ready for me.”

“Of course. See you in ten.” There was still amusement in his voice. Sanha seemed to be having a lot of fun at his expense.

When he arrived he marched right into a game of beer pong—Wooyoung and Changbin against you and Juyeon. Sanha was right, the two of you seemed chummy. Why? Since when? Did you get to know each other during the break? Your eyes met his for a brief moment. You seemed shocked, as if you truly hadn’t expected Jongho to be here, and if he was being truthful that hurt a little. A part of him had entertained this secret fantasy that maybe, possibly, you came tonight hoping to see him. After all, Eric was his friend. It made sense for Jongho to be here, more sense for him than for you. But you looked truly caught off guard with your wide eyes. And also a little drunk; Jongho could tell from the slight redness on your cheeks and forehead. It was cute—

He tore his gaze away. He needed a drink. And so did you it seemed, because he could see you emptying one cup after the other from his peripheral vision. He hadn’t wanted Juyeon to be your shining knight, hadn’t wanted you to have a chance to witness Juyeon’s cool side. But now, seeing you drink them all by yourself made him angry too. You were clearly drunk already, why was no one drinking for you?

Sanha pulled him out of his thoughts as he held a cup under Jongho’s nose.

“Your drink, as promised.”

Jongho took a huge swig of whatever was in there, “Yeah, thanks.” It left a slight burn in his throat.

“You just arrived and you already look ready to go home.”

“Well, I didn’t expect to walk straight into that.” He nodded towards the beer pong table. Juyeon’s hand was at the small of your back. The plastic cup crinkled under Jongho’s tightening grip.

“Easy, cowboy, you know you’re not y/n’s boyfriend anymore, right?”

Jongho shot him a death glare, “You know as well as I do that that whole break-up was bullshit.”

“I don’t think I’m equipped to have an opinion here,” Sanha replied vaguely, taking a sip of his own drink, “but whatever the case, you’re not back together.”

“Yet,” Jongho corrected. His eyes followed you as Juyeon led you away and Jongho had been at this apartment often enough to know the room you were just entering was Juyeon’s bedroom. His cup got crushed further beneath his fingers. That asshole. You were clearly way too drunk to consent.

“Hold this for a second,” he shoved his mangled cup at Sanha and then took big strides through the crowd of the party guests towards the door you just disappeared behind. Before he reached it though, it swung open again and Juyeon came out, almost stumbling into him. “Oh, sorry,” He looked slightly startled but seemed to catch up on Jongho having purposely followed him when the latter didn’t budge.

“Y/n is quite drunk,” Juyeon said as if it was a good explanation.

“I saw that,” His response was unnecessarily harsh, something he was aware of, but didn’t care to change.

“She’s out on the balcony. I was gonna get her some wa—”

“I’ll take care of it,” Jongho interrupted.

Juyeon seemed unsure for a moment, probably figuring out in his head if Jongho, the ex-boyfriend, could be trusted to take care of you, but ultimately nodded, perhaps driven by the insight that he himself, an almost stranger to you, was definitely a lesser choice. “Let me know if you need something e—”

“I won’t, thanks.” Jongho was already on his way back to the kitchen area to get a glass of water for you.

“Maybe take a bucket with you as well—”

“I can handle it.” Jongho didn’t know himself to be this snippy. But alas.

A few minutes later, he stepped out onto the balcony, glass of water in one hand and a big mixing bowl in the other (how was he supposed to know where they kept their buckets? And Eric was god-knows where and he definitely wasn’t going to ask Juyeon, because despite having been wrong about him taking advantage of your drunk state, he still felt somewhat upset just looking at the guy).

You were sitting on the bench, hugging one of the seat cushions to your chest as you stared into the night sky. You didn’t immediately turn your head to look at him, and even when you finally did it seemed to take you a moment to register that it was him. You blinked slowly, your gaze dropping to the glass in his hands and then back up to his face.

“Juyeon will bring me water,” you said and even though Jongho knew it was probably just because you were drunk, he was surprised by the softness in your voice. It’d been a while since you spoke to him without any underlying anger. Not that he’d been much better, though.

“I told him I’d do it.”

“Why would you?” Your speech was slightly slurred.

“Why wouldn’t I?” He handed you the glass and took it without letting go of the cushion, which made it look quite cumbersome. Still you managed to take a sip before trying to hand it back to him.

“Have some more,” Jongho suggested and you did so without complaints. He sat down on the bench next to you, on the side without a cushion, and wondered what he was doing here.

“Are you disappointed? That I showed up instead?”

You didn’t look up from the empty glass as you carefully placed it on the ground in front of your feet, only for Jongho to put it on the window sill instead to make sure you wouldn’t accidentally break it.

“No,” you finally replied.

Relief washed over him, as well as a sense of reason. If you didn’t mind him being here, if you didn’t prefer someone else taking care of you, then there was nothing wrong with him doing so.

“I puked into the flower pot,” you admitted out of nowhere, in between tiny sips of water, and Jongho was so caught off guard he let out a laugh. In a petty bout of jealousy he thought that Juyeon deserved the vomit in his flower pot.

“I missed that.”

He raised his eyebrow, “Missed what?”

“Your laugh.”

His chest hurt. “You don’t have to miss it.” You can have as much of it as you want. I’ll laugh all the time if that makes you come back.

“No, I do,” you closed your eyes and leaned back against the bench, “I can’t help myself.”

He wanted to hug you but he knew he couldn’t, so he just remained silent and looked at you.

Your eyelids fluttered before you opened them again, an odd determination in your eyes. You shoved the pillow aside and it fell to the floor. “Can you take me home?”

“Of course.”

He took your hand and helped you up from the bench and when he realized how wobbly you were on your feet, he wrapped one arm around your waist to steady you. He grabbed his things and your jacket on the way out, and then you were already in the elevator down. You didn’t run into anyone of interest (aside from Sanha who met his gaze with a raised eyebrow) and he was glad for that. He didn’t want to explain to anyone why he was here, why he was taking you home, and what he wanted even less was to hand you over to Wooyoung or San, who would surely think it was better for them to take you home. And maybe it was, but Jongho didn’t want to hand you over to anyone, didn’t want to give up this fragile moment of peace between the two of you.

When you stepped outside the building you took a deep breath, as if you hadn’t breathed fresh air in ages, as if you hadn’t just been on the balcony.

“This is nice.”

“Mhm,” he hummed.

“I’m gonna be sick,” and without warning you hunched over and puked in between the trash cans. He tried his best to keep your hair out of your face and slowly rubbed your back until you were done. It was gross, obviously, but a part of him felt nostalgic. It made him feel like your boyfriend again. Like a few semesters back, when you hadn’t quite figured out your tolerance yet and ended parties like this more often than not. And he would take care of you until you felt stable enough to walk home, and when you didn’t he’d carry you on his back and you’d whisper silly little I love you’s into his ear. As he rubbed your back, he wondered when you’d said it last, and if he’d hear it again.

He wiped your mouth with a tissue and gave you the bottle of water he’d still had in his backpack to let you rinse your mouth.

“Better?”

You nodded, “Better.”

“Can you walk?”

You seemed to consider for a moment, as if you were contemplating the correct answer, before you finally shook your head. He huffed a laugh. “Fine then.”

Jongho crouched down in front of you, the way he’d always done, making it easier for you to get on his back. His chest felt tight when you wrapped your arms around him.

And then he started walking, carrying you home because it wasn’t terribly far from here, and because that was what he’d always done. He felt you snuggle into him, tucking your face into his neck, and it was such a small gesture, something he’d considered so normal that he’d barely even noticed it, but now it felt like the world.

“Why didn’t you beg?” You mumble into the collar of his hoodie.

“What?”

“Why didn’t you say no? You could’ve—you could’ve just said no.”

“Hadn’t you already made up your mind? Weren’t you going to tear down the building either way?”

You shook your head, he assumed, and the movement of your hair felt ticklish against his skin. “I just—I wanted you to want me.”

“What kind of nonsense is that?” He looks straight ahead at the streetlights cutting through the darkness. “You know I wanted you.”

“But that’s different. You wanted me in a college way, not in a future wife way.”

It sounded so ridiculous he wanted to laugh, but he couldn’t, because this was about you and about his relationship and it was too important to laugh, no matter how ridiculous. “What does that mean?”

“It means you would’ve always left me, so I did it first.”

“Are you serious right now?”

“Yeah,” you snuggled further into his neck as if your words weren’t even contradicting that display of affection in the slightest. Though, in your drunk and tired eyes it was probably more about being comfortable and less about showing any kind of affection. “You have your whole life ahead of you after all.”

“Y/n, we’re the same age.”

“But your future is worth more than mine.” You said it so matter of factly, like a truth you’d always known and secretly held onto, and maybe that was the most shocking part. Jongho stopped walking. He even almost dropped you, but remembered to hold on just in time.

“That’s bullshit,” he replied, but he already knew you’d disagree. You’d disagree and then explain to him the ways in which you were right, give arguments that had never even occurred to him. He’d never even considered the value of his life or future, nor had he ever thought to weigh it up against yours. And by what measure, anyway? What made a future more valuable? Who decided that?

You, apparently.

“It’s not. You’ll have your fancy,” you were interrupted by a hiccup, “job and drive a fancy,” another hiccup, “car and I will just,” another, “be me.” The last word slipped from your lips like an insult. “You would’ve left me anyway.”

“I wouldn’t have,” he insisted, “There is no just you. There is you. And I like you.”

“You used to love me, though.”

He did let out a small, huffed laugh now. “And I would say that I still do, if I thought you wanted to hear it.”

“I want to hear it.” Your breathing sounded really calm now, as if you were on the brink of falling asleep.

“I love you.”

He heard the sleepy smile in your voice as you replied, “Me too.”

The first thing you noticed when you woke up was the excruciating headache that only got worsened by the shrill sound of your alarm. You groaned and aimlessly fumbled with your phone until it finally stopped. This was why you didn’t like going out on weekdays.

After another ten minutes of drifting back to sleep, you tapped your phone screen to check the time. Almost 9. Fuck. You were going to miss the lecture. When you closed your eyes once more, hazy memories came back to you. Playing beer pong. Puking into Juyeon’s flower pot. Someone giving you water. Someone holding your hair. Someone carrying you on his back. Someone saying he loves you.

Jongho? You suddenly felt awake. Did that actually happen? Did you just dream it?

A message popped up on your phone screen.

Jongho: we need to talk

Double fuck.

You didn’t want to, but you forced yourself out of bed and into your shower. There’d been painkillers on the nightstand that you’d swallowed down with a big gulp of water and you thought they were already helping. When you finally got dressed and ready to go, your lecture was already halfway over. But you weren’t driving to campus for that lecture anyway.

You sat down on some stairs and waited for Jongho to come out. You needed this talk, as much as he did, probably. But you dreaded it too, confused by your own patchy memories and scared of that small hope inside of you getting crushed again. Still, you waited.

He didn’t smile when he spotted you, but he didn’t look upset either. It was something else, like insecurity and openness, feelings Jongho didn’t tend to wear on his sleeve.

“How are you feeling?” he asked when he plopped down beside you.

“Hungover.”

He chuckled, “I can imagine.”

“Scared, also.”

He frowned, “Of what?”

That you didn’t mean what you said yesterday. Or worse, that it was just a dream. But you couldn’t bring yourself to say that. Not even now, so you shrugged instead.

He nodded slowly, his gaze fixed on his own hands. Speaking didn’t seem to come easy to him either, and it made you feel closer to him, reminded you that he wasn’t this perfect entity but rather also just a person.

“Did you mean what you said yesterday?” he finally asked.

You didn’t remember half the things you said. “Which part?”

“All of them. That you wanted me to stop you. That you thought I’d be leaving you anyway,” he took a small breath, “That you love me.”

It felt like a now or never type of situation. If you weren’t going to be honest now, when would you? So you nodded. “Yes.”

“All of them?”

“...Yes.”

Jongho turned to look at you and there was so much hurt and vulnerability and desperation in his eyes, it almost made you feel sick to look at him because you knew this was your fault.

“I wasn’t going to leave,” he said and you think he said something like that yesterday too.

“I’m sorry,” you replied because it was the only thing you could come up with, “I’m sorry for not trusting you.”

“And I won’t leave now, either, if you don’t want me to.”

Your eyes widened, unable to quite grasp the meaning of his words.

“But you can’t break up with me again. Not unless you mean it.”

Tears were welling up in your eyes, and you knew you were still on campus and it wasn’t the best place to get emotional, but you didn’t care. “I’m sorry,” you whispered again with a wobbly voice.

“That’s not an answer.”

You sniffed, “I won’t. I won’t break up with you again.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

He let out a breath, as if he’d been holding onto it for a long time.

“Good.” He took your hand and intertwined your fingers and it felt so good, so reassuring, so much like home to be connected to him like that again. He stared at your hands long and hard and it made you think he was probably thinking about the same thing. But then he said “You know your future isn’t actually less valuable than mine, right?”

You almost felt ashamed. Like a child that’d messed up. You knew the answer would be Yes but it would also be a lie, so you stayed silent.

“And to be honest, I’d much prefer to think of it as our future anyway.”

Ours. That sounded pretty nice. It sounded like a shared apartment and getting groceries and taking vacations together. It sounded like building a home. It sounded like being together.

“I’d like that.”

A smile spread on his lips before he connected them with yours. “Good,” he said again.

“Good,” you repeated.

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