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Across From You

©doomgurlfics .ೃ࿐

Synopsis: A holiday-obsessed editor and her reserved neighbor keep running into each other in the most inconvenient, and charming, ways. From awkward collisions in the elevator to icy mishaps and unexpected favors, their growing connection proves that sometimes the best gifts are waiting just across the hall.

Pairing: Non-Idol Eunwoo x Reader

Word Count: 11,201

Content: Slow burn, Holiday romance, Boy next door, Found comfort, Mutual pining, Shy MMC

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, Cursing, coarse language

A/N: Hi beautiful people! ୧ ‧₊˚ 🍵 ⋅ Merry Christmas!! I’m dropping Christmas gift early because I couldn’t wait! I hope you guys enjoy because I had a lot of fun writing it! Love y’all 💗💗🫶🏽

Winter is your favorite season.

While many complain that everything dies during this time of year. That the days are shorter, the nights colder, and the critters more determined to sneak inside your house. You don’t mind any of it.

You revel in the chance to layer up, indulge in every holiday treat imaginable, and dive headfirst into the most whimsical time of all.

Christmas.

Your absolute favorite holiday. From decorating to baking to gift giving, Christmas has always held a special place in your heart. And this year is no different.

Well… maybe you’ve gone a tiny bit overboard.

The massive shopping bag cutting into your palms, stuffed to the brim with wrapping paper, ornaments, table toppers, lights, and at least three impulse buys, makes it nearly impossible to see anything in front of you.

When the elevator doors slide open, you step out with the excitement of someone ready to turn their apartment into a winter wonderland.

But unfortunately, your impaired vision betrays you. Immediately.

You walk straight into something, more like someone, as solid as a wall.

“Oof,” you blurt, stumbling back as your balance wavers. Strong arms shooting out to catch you before you topple backward.

Reorienting yourself, you lower the bag just enough to finally see who you crashed into, and your stomach drops.

Before you stands your mystery neighbor. The fine one.

Shit.

“Oh! Hey, uh—” you stutter, brain scrambling because you still don’t know his name. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize someone was standing at the entrance. I hope you’re not hurt.”

The elevator doors try to close but his broad frame keeps the sensors triggered.

He just… stares. Thick brows drawn, expression unreadable, like he’s been stunned or trying to figure out what exactly hit him.

Reality seems to bring him back and he steps to the side, giving you room to actually leave the elevator. “No worries… do you need help?” He asks.

His voice is deep, yet soft, the kind of voice that makes the tiny hairs under your scarf stand at attention.

You shake your head quickly. “No, I think I can manage. Thank you.”

He nods once and steps fully into the elevator, allowing the doors to slide shut.

You stand there dumbfounded, pouting at your own reflection in the metal. Why do you have to make a fool of yourself every time you run into him?

Mystery Neighbor lived across the hall in Apartment 1705. Tall, handsome, and criminally quiet. He’d never said more than five words to you in a single exchange, which is exactly why, after five months, you still had no clue what his name was.

He was impossible to read, and even more impossible to catch, so moments like these were rare.

And you always managed to screw them up.

With a sigh, you adjust your overflowing bags and wrestle with your keys, struggling to unlock your apartment.

Better luck next time… if the universe decides to give you one.

⋆꙳•❅*°⋆❆.ೃ࿔*:･*❆ ₊⋆

Your living room looks like the North Pole threw up on it. Discarded ornaments everywhere, abandoned lights sprawled across the rug, garland draped messily over the couch.

You’ve been hard at work decorating your Christmas tree. Or, you would be, if you could figure out why the hell the lights won’t turn on.

You paid over fifty dollars for these incandescent lights. Fifty. Dollars.

So these suckers are turning on one way or another.

All week you’ve been itching to get this tree up, delayed Amazon packages and your overloaded work schedule tag-teaming to push it off. Now that you finally have the time, these tiny little bulbs want to cop out on you.

“Damn it!” you whine, tossing the lights away in defeated frustration.

Cashew, your long-haired dachshund, gives you a tilted-head stare like you’ve personally offended him with your incompetence.

You huff out a breath. You need a break before you commit a crime against holiday décor.

“Wanna go for a walk?” you ask your pup, crouching down to ruffle his fur.

His tail immediately goes wild, and you take that as a yes.

Laughing softly, you gather his leash and the tiny sweater you bought on impulse. The one that reads Santa’s #1 Helper. You can’t help yourself; you take a thousand photos of Cashew posing like a reluctant Christmas model before finally slipping into your own coat.

“Okay, let’s go!”

The two of you make your way down to your apartment’s dog park, one of your favorite amenities mostly because it’s residents-only and usually quiet.

Spotting just one owner and their dog inside, you deem it safe enough to bring Cashew in. He’s practically dragging you forward, as soon as you open the gate, eager to run free.

“Hold on, buddy, let me close the gate,” you laugh, fumbling behind as he strains against the leash.

The other dog is slightly bigger than Cashew, a fluffy white Bichon Frisé trotting circles at her owner’s feet.

Not sure yet if she’s friendly, you keep Cashew tethered while he sniffs around like an investigative journalist.

You pull out your phone, googling the brand of lights you bought, praying someone has a resolution to your issue.

You’re so engrossed in reviews that you don’t even notice the other dog approaching until she’s weaving between your legs with Cashew darting after her, tangling the leash around your ankles.

You yelp as you pitch forward, mentally preparing to faceplant directly into dog shit, when strong arms wrap around you, breaking your fall just in time.

What is up with you and falling this week?

“I’m so sorry,” a deep, very familiar, voice rushes out. He steadies you, making sure you’re upright before letting go.

Of course. Mystery Neighbor saves you from public humiliation. Again.

And for whatever reason, you burst out laughing.

His worried expression shifts into mild confusion as you fold over, laughing so hard you wheeze.

“I’m sorry,” you manage between breaths. “I just… I can’t stop imagining how pissed I’d be if I fell face-first into a pile of shit.”

The mental image sets you off again, tears prickling your eyes. It’s hilarious now. It would’ve been tragic if it actually happened.

“Are you alright?” he asks slowly, like he’s not fully convinced.

His attire today is the same thing you usually catch him in, a heavy-duty work uniform that fits him way too well. His wavy dark hair framing his face beautifully. Your heart flutters at the sight.

You almost forget he asked you a question.

Snapping out of it, you smile… weirdly.“Yes! I’m a-okay. Or maybe not. All this almost-falling might be knocking a few screws loose,” you say with an awkward laugh.

He doesn’t join in.

Great. Now you kind of wish you’d fallen in dog shit.

“Anyways… thank you for breaking my fall. Once again, neighbor. Though I never happened to catch your name.”

He glances toward the dogs, who are now fully invested in sniffing each other’s butts.

“It’s Eunwoo.”

Your face heats up immediately. You know you’ll embarrass yourself if you try to pronounce it. And you couldn’t dig a deeper grave of embarrassment, or worse, offend him.

Sensing the internal struggle written all over your expression, he steps in.

“Eun-woo,” he says slowly, breaking it down.

You repeat it back to him, relieved when he nods in approval.

“Sorry,” you say softly. “I’m sure you get that a lot living in the States. I just didn’t want to butcher it.”

His expression doesn’t change much, but something in his eyes soften.

“I’m [+],” you add with a warm smile. “Nice to meet you.”

He nods once, eyes drifting back toward the dogs.

You return to your phone, still desperately searching for a solution to your light problem. But every forum, review, and troubleshooting guide basically says the same unhelpful thing.

And considering you tore the box to shreds in a blind fit of holiday excitement…

Yeah. There was no returning that.

You sigh dramatically, rubbing your forehead before sneaking a glance at Eunwoo. Your eyes drift down over his uniform again.

Heavy-duty work gear. Sturdy boots. Hands that look like they know their way around tools.

He might know something about lights. Or fuses. Or electricity. Or literally anything more than you do.

You clear your throat. “Excuse me, uh—”

His head lifts, gaze settling on you with that unreadable calm he always seems to wear.

“I was wondering if you knew anything about Christmas lights?”

He just… stares. Not rude. Just waiting.

So you keep going.

“Um, I bought some from the store recently but I can’t get them to turn on. At all.” You hold your fingers a millimeter apart. “Not even a flicker.”

“What kind?” he asks, eyes dropping to your phone.

You quickly turn the screen toward him, angling it so he can see the product page.

He leans in to look, and being this close, you catch a faint waft of his cologne. Warm, clean, distinctly masculine.

You inhale without meaning to. Great. Now you’re sniffing him.

“There’s most likely a short somewhere,” he says, his accent curling softly around the words. “But… I could check them out, if you want?”

Your eyes widen immediately. “Really? Oh my gosh, that would be great!”

Taken aback by your excitement, he steps back a little, nodding in that quiet, awkward way of his.

Okay. You definitely need to play it cool.

Calling over your pups, the four of you head back inside and up to your floor. When you reach your apartment door, you unlock it and hold it open for Eunwoo to step in.

He doesn’t.

Your face heats instantly. “I’m sorry! Please don’t mind the mess. I promise it won’t look like this tomorrow,” you rush out, scratching the back of your neck like that’s going to help.

“No, it’s fine,” he says quickly. “It’s just, uh… my uniform’s dirty. I wouldn’t want to mess up anything.”

You shake your head firmly.

“It’s fine,” you insist. “Seriously. Cashew tracks in more dirt than any uniform ever could. You’re not gonna mess anything up.”

He hesitates, eyes flicking from your face to the chaotic array of decor behind you.

Widening the door, you give him your most reassuring smile, and he caves, shoulders dropping as he steps inside.

He slips off his shoes, and you take his coat, hanging it up before leading him toward the faulty lights beside your tree.

Eunwoo wastes no time. The second he crouches down, he’s already focused, hands moving confidently as he checks each bulb.

You stand there watching him like a total creep, eyes glued to the way he works.

Should you offer him a drink? A snack? Maybe a—

The lights flick on.

“There you go,” he says as he stands.

You gasp.

“That was absurdly quick. Now I feel kind of silly. What did you do?”

“Just twisted a few bulbs,” he shrugs, giving a quick whistle for his pup. She trots over, and he scoops her up effortlessly before heading toward the door, already sliding back into his boots.

Shit, you have to move fast.

“Uh, well, thanks. I’ll have to repay you, Eunwoo. Do you like cookies? I bake a mean chocolate chip!” you ask, scurrying after him.

He shakes his head. “No need, Y/N. Have a good night.”

And before you can protest, he’s slipping out of your apartment, leaving you standing in your entryway dumbfounded.

No one turns down your cookies.

⋆꙳•❅*°⋆❆.ೃ࿔*:･*❆ ₊⋆

You cannot believe yourself.

After spending hours in the grocery store, fighting for your life against stir-crazy people preparing for the holidays, you still managed to forget a bag of sugar.

Fuck.

Normally, it wouldn’t be that big of a deal. But right now, you’re knee-deep in making three twelve-dozen batches of chocolate chip cookies for your job’s holiday potluck. Which is tomorrow.

You’d already wasted most of your weekend binging Hallmark movies instead of attending to the task at hand, and now you’re paying for it.

You glance at the DoorDash rates and let out a long sigh. With snow expected in the next few hours, delivery fees have tripled. And now they’re trying to charge you three times the price for a single bag of sugar.

Absolutely not.

You groan, staring down at your dry ingredients, already knowing the sad little scoop of cane sugar left in your pantry won’t even come close to cutting it.

You’ll have to improvise. Throwing on a hoodie and grabbing your house keys, you slip into the hall, shaking your head at yourself as you go door to door, asking neighbors for a bag of cane sugar.

You feel like you’re canvassing for votes, each polite shake of the head chipping away at your confidence. Some neighbors don’t even bother opening the door. It was the holidays and not many can come up off of the amount of sugar you need. Especially after ten o’clock at night.

By the time you reach your last door, 1705, your shoulders slump. There’s a hesitation in your knock, your pride still hurting from how quickly he’d turned down your cookies last time.

But you need this sugar. So, summoning every ounce of courage, you knock again.

Nothing.

You gulp and try again. “Hey, Eunwoo, it’s [+]… from across the hall.”

A little shuffling comes from inside, followed by the pitter-patter of his pup’s feet.

You brace yourself as the door opens, though nothing could have prepared you for what’s on the other side.

Eunwoo stands there in a muscle T and pajama bottoms that sit dangerously low on his hips. His face puffy from sleep, eyes half-lidded as he stares at you.

Instantly, you feel terrible.

“Oh! I’m so sorry! I should’ve expected you to be asleep. It’s kind of late… I’m so sorry for waking you! Please, go back to bed, don’t worry about me!” You stumble backward, waving your hands like a maniac, heart pounding.

“It’s okay,” he croaks, voice raw and deep as he scoops up his dog. You cannot ignore the way it makes your insides tingle. “Is something wrong?”

You wince, feeling instantly silly. “Uh…kinda. B-but it sounds dumb now. Please, just go back to bed!

“What is it, [+]?” His tone is firm, almost stern, but there’s no hostility.

You straighten, taking a deep breath and cutting to the chase. “I have to bake three dozen cookies for my winter potluck tomorrow, and I ran out of sugar… I was wondering if I could borrow some from you.” You rush the words out in one hurried breath.

He stares at you for a long moment, eyes hiding whatever thoughts flicker across his face. Then he says, simply:

“Wait right here.”

He disappears back into his apartment for a moment, the soft shuffle of cabinets echoing through the quiet hallway. A few seconds later, he returns, holding a large sack of sugar.

Your eyes widen, and a small puff of air escapes you as he gently sets it in your arms. You fumble slightly, trying to get a good grip on the hefty bag.

“You got it?” he asks, his gaze holding yours.

You nod meekly, ignoring the strain in your arms, heart doing a little flip at the intensity in his eyes.

“All good, thank you,” you reply, praying there’s no strain in your voice. “I can return it to your tomorrow?”

He shakes his head, “don’t worry about it [+]. Have a good night.”

Your mouth parts at his generosity.

“Oh, okay! Thank you so much! And… you too! Sweet dreams!”

The tiniest tilt of a smirk graces his lips as he tips his head at you and closes the door.

You stand there for a moment, grinning like a fool, until it hits you. His door has a peephole.

Scurrying back into your apartment, you get to work baking the cookies. The process moves twice as fast now that you have all the ingredients. Baking was like a second nature.

When you finish, you arrange the cookies neatly on a festive Christmas tray, wrapping the leftovers on a separate plate.

Morning arrives in a frantic blur, and you run around your apartment like a chicken with its head cut off, hurriedly getting ready. You overslept, again.

But even amidst the chaos, you don’t forget to return Eunwoo’s sugar. Leaving the sack at his door, along with the extra cookies you wrapped and a small thank-you note.

Later, when you return home, you’re pleased, and a little smug,

to see the cookies are gone.

Just as you said, no one can resist your chocolate chip cookies.

⋆꙳•❅*°⋆❆.ೃ࿔*:･*❆ ₊⋆

Resting your forehead against the steering wheel, you let out a long, exasperated sigh.

“Shit. Shit. Shit.”

You twist the key again. Nothing.

The engine sputters weakly before going completely silent. You’ve been at this for fifteen minutes now, desperately trying to beat the eight o’clock traffic, but that hope is officially dead.

You should’ve taken the weatherman more seriously when they said the snow was expected to pick up, with temperatures dropping low enough to freeze engines.

But that has never happened to you before. Plus you parked in the sheltered parking garage, so expected to be a-okay.

Man were you wrong.

Resting your forehead against the steering wheel, you let out a long, exasperated sigh.

Now you’re going to have to call in late to work, pray AAA or someone can get here fast enough, and hope they don’t charge you an arm and a l-

A sudden tap on the driver-side window scares you shitless, making you jump so hard you hit the horn.

Heart racing, you look out the glass, and freeze.

Eunwoo is standing there, gloved hands resting lightly against the glass, his breath fogging the window as he peers in, dark eyes filled with…concern?

“[+]? Are you okay?”

You smile weakly, rolling down the frosty window.

“Not really. My car won’t start and I don’t know why exactly,” you groan glancing at the clock. “And I have a feeling I may have to call out of work.”

He crouches down slightly, one large hand braced against the door as he studies you through the open window. He’s in his work uniform again, lunch bag slung over his shoulder, clearly on his way out.

“It’s probably the weather,” he says calmly. “Do you want me to take a look?”

You shake your head instinctively, lying through your teeth. “No, no. I already called a car service. They’re on the way.”

He hums, clearly unconvinced.

“With this snow, they won’t get here until the afternoon.” He meets your eyes. “I don’t mind checking it for you.”

You bite your lip, pride warring with desperation, before finally sighing. “…Okay.”

The moment you step out of the car, the cold bites straight through your coat, making you shiver.

“Here.” He his keys into your palm.

You stare at him confusingly.

“You can go sit in my car. Warm up. Hopefully this won’t take long.” His voice is light, friendly despite his neutral face.

You’re taken back by his hospitality but you don’t refute, knowing that will on prolong the process further.

“Th-thank you.”

You walk the short distance to his car across the lot, a rather expensive Mercedes that takes you an embarrassing long minute to operate.

Eunwoo didn’t seem the type to be flashy, but still somehow this car fits his vibe. A sleek black sedan with all the latest whistles and gadgets.

The leather interior is warm, the seat heater kicking in almost immediately. You sink back with a sigh, calling your job to explain the situation.

Fifteen minutes later, the driver’s door opens.

Eunwoo slides into the seat, placing both of your lunch bags in the back.

You don’t miss the action, eyes raising as you turn toward him. “So… were you not able to figure out what’s wrong with it?”

He nods once, fastening his seatbelt. “No, I did. It’s the engine. The damage isn’t permanent, but your car won’t be moving until the temperature rises.”

You stare at him confused, so he continues.

“Sometimes when the weather drops, the oil thickens,” he explains calmly. “It makes it harder for the engine to turn over, while also reducing the battery’s power.”

“Oh,” you say dumbly, lips pursing as you absorb the information. Well… what the hell are you supposed to do now?

He glances at you, throat bobbing before he speaks. “I can give you a ride. To work. If you want.”

You shake your head quickly.

“No, I can’t ask that of you. I don’t want you to be late.”

“It’s no problem,” he says, already handing you his phone. “Just put the address in. I’ll get you there.”

You smile softly as you take it, warmth blooming in your chest at his easy insistence. His willingness surprises you, especially given how reserved he usually is, but you won’t complain.

Eunwoo intrigues you.

And this feels like the perfect chance to learn a little more.

You plug in the address and he takes off, one hand stirring as rests the other in his lap, tapping his thigh to the soft music in the background.

You gnaw at your lip, unsure how to break the silence. “Thank you again for the sugar the other night. I promise I won’t come knocking for anything else at ten p.m.,” you say.

He nods, “Oh, it’s no big deal. Glad I could help.”

“Did you like the cookies?” You ask, trying to remain casual, though you’re dying to know.

The ghost of smile graces his face again. “I did actually, thank you.”

“Yes!” You should animatedly. I knew you would, no one with good taste buds dislikes my cookies.” You shimmy in your seat, peeking a glance at him to see a full smirk on his face.

And man, Eunwoo is attractive already, but when he smiles. You feel like an anime character with heart eyes as you swoon.

He glances away quickly, back to the road much to your disappointed.

A comfortable silence settles between you, and you can tell Eunwoo seems more at ease now, shoulders relaxed, grip on the wheel loose.

“So… you’re pretty handy,” you say, glancing over at him. “You know stuff about Christmas lights and cars. Are you a mechanic? Or an engineer or something?”

He exhales softly, almost like he’s deciding how much to say.

“I’ve done both.”

Your brows lift in interest.

“I bounced around a lot,” he adds, eyes staying on the road. “Construction, auto shops, electrical work. Whatever paid and kept me busy.”

That tracks. Somehow, it really does.

“Now?” you prompt gently.

A pause. “Now I run my own company,” he says. “Small. Mostly maintenance and repairs. Residential, commercial. Stuff like this.”

You smile, impressed. “That’s… actually really cool.”

He shrugs, but there’s the faintest hint of pride there. “It keeps the lights on.”

And apparently fixes them, too.

His thumbs drum lightly against the steering wheel, his expression thoughtful. “What about you?” he asks. “What do you do?”

You brighten instantly, a little too excited that he’s asking. “I’m an editor for a publishing company.”

“Like… books?” he asks, glancing over at you.

“Yep! Romance, fantasy, thriller, you name it. I basically get paid to read all day and make grammatical edits.”

“You sound like you enjoy it,” he says.

“I do!” you reply easily. “I love literature, so it’s kind of a dream job. Plus, my coworkers are nice and the benefits are great.”

“That’s good,” he says simply.

You nod, smiling to yourself.

Talking to Eunwoo is nice, surprisingly so, even if it is just small talk. His voice is soothing, deep but comforting, slowly unraveling a feeling you really shouldn’t be developing for your neighbor.

The car slows much sooner than you’d like, and you struggle to hide your disappointment as he pulls up in front of your building.

“Thank you so much Eunwoo for giving me a ride, and checking out my car. I hope I didn’t make you too late.”

He shakes his head. “You’re fine, the guys can get started without me. He stares at you for a long moment. “…What time do you get off work.”

“Four-thirty,” you answer. “Though I’ll probably stay an extra hour to make up the time. Why?”

“I’ll be here.”

Your eyes widen comically.

“Oh,no! You’ve already done enough! I can get an Uber—”

“I’ll be here, Y/N,” he says gently but firmly. “Have a good day at work.”

He drives off, leaving you standing there, gaping like a fish out of water.

You watch his car disappear down the street.

What are you going to do about Eunwoo?

⋆꙳•❅*°⋆❆.ೃ࿔*:･*❆ ₊⋆

“Girl, why do you keep picking these cheesy ass holiday movies with the same three terrible actors.” Mahogany your best friend complains, crunching on a candy cane as she glares at the credits.

She’s been plucking them straight off your Christmas tree since she arrived, and by the looks of it, there won’t be a single one left by the end of the night.

Kam laughs, flicking her lightly on the forehead. “Stop complaining, Mo. You know this is her favorite time of year. Let her have her moment.”

Mahogany pouts, rubbing her forehead as Kam leans in to kiss it, rolling his eyes dramatically. You can’t help but smile at their antics.

The two of them have been pining after each other since high school. You playing full-time Cupid and professional third wheeler, dragging their scared asses together.

And despite how aggressively single they make you feel sometimes, you’re genuinely happy they found their way to each other. Their story a living proof that true love actually exists.

You sigh softly, scratching Cashew behind the ears. Your time will come. Eventually.

“Fine,” you say, tossing Mahogany the remote, far away from her baby bump. “You can pick the next movie. Just, please let it be Christmas related.”

She sighs dramatically, like you’ve personally wronged her.

You head toward the kitchen, ready to refill your hot chocolate, when a knock sounds at the door.

That must be the food delivery.

You hurry over, stomach growling as you swinging the door open, completely unprepared for who’s standing on the other side.

Eunwoo.

He’s dressed in workout clothes, a fitted compression top that leaves very little to the imagination. His hair is damp, strands slightly disheveled signaling he just finished up, and he’s holding your food out toward you.

For a moment, you forget how to speak.

“Hey,” he says, glancing briefly past you at the guests settled on your couch. “Sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt. I saw this sitting at your door and figured I’d give it to you. I’m not sure how long it was left out here.”

He nudges the bag of takeout, pulling you out of your unholy thoughts as you take the bag from him.

“Oh, thank you!” You say, voice higher than necessary. A small pause settles between you, awkward but not unpleasant. You shift your weight, nerves buzzing.

“Um… I’m just watching some Christmas movies with friends, if you want to join. We ordered a shit ton of food, so there’s more than enough if you’re hungry.”

You immediately feel like you’re rambling, but it’s out there now.

He shakes his head, and your heart sinks.

“No, I wouldn’t want to intrude,” he says, already stepping back. “Plus, I’m all sweaty and stuff.”

“Oh.” You try to keep your voice light despite the disappointment curling in your chest. “I mean, you wouldn’t be intruding, but I get it. Have a good night.”

He nods, lips pressed into a thin line, and you close the door.

You carry the food back into the living room, forcing yourself to shake off the rejection. It was silly to think you and Eunwoo had grown close enough to hang out. Sure, he’d driven you to work a few times, but that was all.

“About time!” Mahogany says, immediately reaching for the bags. “This baby has me starving.”

You laugh, setting everything out and sliding a plate toward her. Leave it to Mo to lift your mood without even trying.

An hour passes with the three of you sharing dishes and half-watching The Best Man Holiday. Mo never misses an opportunity to tease you about your love for cheesy Christmas movies, yet here she is, reciting almost every line like from memory.

Kam jumps up during the Can You Stand The Rain scene, dancing along dramatically as you and Mo burst out laughing.

“Kam, I’ll be glad when you finally find the beat,” you tease.

“I dance to my own beat, thank you,” he rebuttals, gyrating his hips with full confidence.

A knock sounds at the door, almost drowned out by Mahogany’s loud laughter.

“Ooo, you bringing someone else to the party?” Kam teases, rolling his chest dramatically as Mo lets out a whistle.

“You guys are some fools,” you mutter, shaking your head as you stand. “No, I don’t know who would be knocking at this time of night.”

You head for the door anyway, peeking through the peephole.

Eunwoo stands on the other side, shifting on his feet. He’s changed now, in comfortable looking sweatsuits, fluffy blow dried hair falling against the frames of his glasses.

Your breath stutters. What is he doing back here?

You open the door, and his eyes immediately find yours.

“Sorry, were we too loud?” you ask, glancing back over your shoulder as you wave at the cackling couple to quiet down.

Eunwoo shakes his head quickly. “No, no. It’s not that.” He scratches the back of his neck, gaze drifting away for a moment before returning to you. “I was just… wondering if the offer was still open. For me to join you all.”

You can’t help the smile that grows on your face. Over the moon he changed his mind.

God, you’re so easy.

You step aside, opening the door wider and gesturing him in.

“Of course. Come on in, I’ll introduce you to my friends.”

He nods, slipping off his shoes as he follows you deeper into your apartment.

“Guys, this is Eunwoo, my neighbor from across the hall,” you announce. “He’s joining us for our Christmas movie marathon.”

You pointedly ignore Mahogany’s knowing smile and Kam’s aggressively wiggling eyebrows as they introduce themselves. You are definitely hearing about this later.

“Nice to meet you,” Eunwoo says, offering a small, polite smile.

You shift on the couch, making room for him beside you. Though once he sits, it feels as if the couch shrinks, appearing comically small compared to his larger frame.

You swallow pretending not to notice.

The movie ends somewhere between shared laughs and Mahogany’s random reenactments. Another starting right after, playing softly in the background as conversation drifts in and out. Kam asking Eunwoo any and everything about his company.

Of course Eunwoo’s still pretty shy, answers short and polite. But you don’t blame him as Kam can be a talker.

By the time the credits roll again, Mahogany lets out a wide yawn, stretching her arms over her head. “Okay, I’m officially movied out for the night,” she announces.

Kam chuckles, already standing. “That’s our cue.”

You walk them to the door amid hugs and gentle rubs to Mahogany’s belly, promising to do this again soon. When the door finally closes behind them, the apartment grows noticeably quieter.

Just you. And Eunwoo.

“You can pick the next movie,” you call from the kitchen as you prepare him a drink.

He doesn’t answer, but the Netflix previews change, confirming he heard you. You smile to yourself, happy he decided to stay.

When you return, you hand him a mug of hot chocolate, dusted with cinnamon and cocoa.

“Oh, thank you,” he says, accepting it with a small smile.

You watch as he takes a sip, warmth blooming in your chest when he goes back for another. “Good?” you ask, already knowing the answer.

“Really good, [+]. Thank you,” he replies, that familiar shy smile making another appearance.

You nod, turning your attention to the TV just as recognition sparks. “How the Grinch Stole Christmas? A classic. I wasn’t expecting you to pick this out of everything up there.”

“It was one of my favorite American Christmas movies as a kid,” he shrugs, ducking behind his mug like it might shield him.

You laugh softly. When Eunwoo isn’t being the sexy, mysterious neighbor, he’s… cute. The duality is almost unfair.

A comfortable silence settles as the movie plays, the glow from the screen washing over the room. It doesn’t last long before curiosity gets the better of you.

“What made you decide to come back?” you ask.

He glances over. “Come back?”

“Yeah,” you say, meeting his eyes. “You turned me down earlier… then changed your mind. Why?”

He sets his almost-empty mug on the coffee table, clearing his throat.

“I… don’t really do stuff like this,” he admits, eyes fixed on the TV though the scene has long faded into background noise. “Dropping in on people. Being social.”

You stay quiet, letting him have the space.

“But when I got back to my apartment,” he continues, fingers lacing together, “it was too quiet. And I kept thinking about how you looked when I said no.”

Your breath catches.

“Not upset,” he adds quickly. “Just… disappointed.” He finally looks at you then, something open and sincere in his gaze. “I didn’t like being the reason for that.”

“So,” he exhales softly, shoulders lifting in a small shrug, “I figured I’d stop over. If the offer was still there.”

You nod slowly, not expecting his blunt sincerity. “Well, I’m glad you changed your mind. I enjoy your company Eunwoo.”

His eyes soften at that, something fond passing through them.

“I appreciate that [+], I-I enjoy yours as well.”

The admission hangs between you, fragile but warm. You unable to stop yourself from laughing at his shy demeanor.

He shifts slightly on the couch, long legs adjusting until his knee brushes yours. Accidentally of course, but neither of you moves away.

Something shifts between you tonight. The harsh platonic line of “just neighbors” starting to blur.

⋆꙳•❅*°⋆❆.ೃ࿔*:･*❆ ₊⋆

You and Eunwoo start running into each other more often after that night. Almost too often to be coincidence.

In the mornings, it’s in the hallway as you’re fumbling with your keys and he’s locking up, coffee already in hand. In the evenings, it’s by the elevators, gift bags cutting into your fingers while he wordlessly takes half the weight from you. Sometimes it’s in the parking garage, sometimes by the mailboxes, sometimes just outside your doors like the universe is nudging you together.

And Eunwoo doesn’t shy away either.

He lingers now. Asking about your day or if you’ve eaten. Remembering small details about your routine, your coworkers, and your unreasonable hatred for early mornings.

He tells you small things too. About a client running late, a project taking longer than expected, how his dog, Dongdongie, refuses to sleep anywhere but his side of the bed.

It was during one of your spontaneous conversations that Eunwoo admitted how he’d never been ice skating.

You’d been rambling about how the local rink finally opened for the season, how you couldn’t wait to break in your new skates, when he slips it in quietly, almost as an afterthought.

“I’ve… never gone,” he says.

You stop mid-sentence. “What? Wait—no. Absolutely not. Now we have to go. I need to break your ice-skating virginity,” you blurt, voice echoing a little too loudly down the hall.

His ears turn pink immediately as he looks away, embarrassed but smiling. “I mean… I’m down,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just don’t know how good I’ll be.”

“Perfect! It’s a date—” you pause, eyes widening. “I mean, not a date date. Just like… an outing. A friendly outing.”

You laugh nervously, waving your hands as if that somehow fixes it.

Eunwoo watches you, the corners of his mouth lifts. “An outing,” he repeats, amused.

“Exactly. An outing,” you nod quickly, relief washing over you.

He chuckles under his breath, a soft sound. “Okay,” he says. “An outing sounds good.”

So that’s how you end up here, standing in the middle of your walk-in closet, irritated as fuck because you can’t figure out what to wear for your “outing.”

You don’t want to look as casual as you usually do, but you also don’t want to try too hard. You want something memorable. This is the first time you and Eunwoo are hanging out outside of your apartment complex, which means it matters, even if you keep telling yourself it doesn’t.

It has to be perfect.

At least your hair is cooperating. Your twist-out came out flawless, juicy curls bouncing at your shoulders every time you move. Your soft glam is on point too, the new blush you picked up complementing your skin beautifully.

Now if only your outfit would get the memo.

You try on six different outfits before finally settling on skinny jeans that hug your curves just right, a cream sweater, matching leg warmers, and your winter boots. A quick shrug into your pea coat, a scarf tossed around your neck, and you’re rushing out the door.

Eunwoo leans casually against the wall across the hall, hands tucked into his pockets like he’s been waiting, because he has.

It looks like he decided to dress up too. A blue cable-knit sweater and dark jeans sit neatly beneath his puffer coat. While he’d looked hot in his work uniform, there’s something about seeing him like this, relaxed, intentional, that makes him even more handsome.

Your heart gives an embarrassing little flip.

“Sorry I’m late, I uh, couldn’t find my other boot,” you lie giving him an apologetic smile.

He shakes his head smiling. “It’s all good, I didn’t wait too long.” You nod at that, the two of you heading to the parking garage.

When you reach Eunwoo’s car he opens the passenger seat for you. “Aw, thank you,” you murmur shyly, slipping inside.

He closes the door carefully before circling the car, settling into the driver’s seat a moment later. The engine hums to life, warmth slowly filling the cabin as he adjusts the heat.

“So,” he says after a beat, glancing over at you briefly, “you skate often?”

“Every winter,” you grin. “I’m not Olympic-level or anything, but I can stay upright most of the time. That’s a win in my book.”

He lets out a quiet chuckle, shoulders relaxing. “Good. Falling in front of you now feels a little less…embarrassing.”

“Oh don’t worry,” you tease, buckling your seatbelt. “I fall all the time. It builds character.”

He shakes his head, smiling to himself as he pulls out of the garage.

Snow lines the streets. Streetlights glowing softly against the white as the city passes by in a calm blur. There’s something comforting about riding in Eunwoo’s car. No rushed movements, no loud music, just the steady rhythm of the road and his intoxicating signature scent.

You steal a glance at him.

His hands are relaxed on the steering wheel, sleeves of his sweater pushed up just enough to reveal his wrists. You gulp at the faint veins tracing along his skin, forcing yourself to look away.

Eunwoo is your type on paper, and being around him more only continues to confirm it.

But this isn’t your average dating situation. This is your neighbor. From across the hall. Which means you can’t let things get awkward or sticky. You have to play it safe.

Thankfully, the drive to the rink is short, giving you a much-needed break from your spiraling thoughts.

The cold bites the moment you step out of the car, and you tug your scarf tighter around your neck. Your gaze drifts to the rink, a slow smirk curves your lips.

Practically empty. Perfect.

You and Eunwoo sit side by side as you lace up your skates, your fingers fumbling with the knot thanks to the thick gloves crowding your fingertips.

Noticing your struggle, Eunwoo shifts closer, then drops to a knee in front of you. Your breath catches as he gently takes the lace from your fingers, working it tight with practiced ease.

“Tight enough?” he asks, glancing up at you.

You can only nod, not quite trusting your voice.

He straightens and offers you a hand, steadying you as you stand. Together, the two of you hobble toward the ice, skates scraping awkwardly against the concrete.

You step on first, confidence slowly returning as muscle memory kicks in. The ice feels familiar beneath your blades, solid and smooth as you test your balance.

Eunwoo hesitates behind you, one hand gripping the railing like a lifeline.

“Are you okay?” you giggle, earning a stiff nod from Eunwoo just as a little girl skates past him with effortless ease.

He watches her glide by, wonder filling his eyes.

“Do you mind if I do a quick lap?” you ask lightly. “Just to break the rust off.”

He gives you a soft glare, lips pressing together cutely. “Don’t forget about me,” he says hoarsely, nose tinged pink from the cold.

You laugh, skating backward for a moment. “How could I?”

You push off, blades cutting into the ice. It’s shaky at first, legs wobbling until muscle memory kicks in halfway through the lap, confidence blooming in your chest as you circle the rink.

Eunwoo stays glued to the railing, wobbling as he watches you with cautious eyes.

When you glide back to his side, you slow to a stop. “Okay! Ready to learn how to skate?”

He gulps, fingers tightening around the rail as he tries to stay upright. “As ready as I’ll ever be,” he says, entirely unconvincing.

It’s the first time you’ve seen him so completely out of his element, and you almost feel bad for how much you’re enjoying it. He looks like a baby deer learning how to stand.

Patiently, you demonstrate how to angle your feet, apply pressure as you push off, and engage your core to maintain balance.

He mirrors you from the safety of the railing, moving cautiously while you skate alongside him.

“Exactly! Just like that!” you beam as he starts to find his footing.

“Now let go of the railing and try it on your own.”

He shoots you a playful glare, the very idea throwing him off balance.

“Absolutely not.”

You laugh, holding out your gloved hand.“Come on, Eunwoo. I’ve got you..”

He stares at it for a long moment, clearly weighing his options. Then, slowly, he reaches out and laces his larger hand with yours, grip tight as he finally lets go of the railing.

“Move slowly,” he murmurs. “Please.”

You laugh softly, pushing off just enough to guide him forward. You move slowly at first, your grip firm but gentle as you skate, eyes locked on his face.

“That’s it,” you encourage. “Small steps. You’re doing great.”

His shoulders loosen little by little, tension melting as he starts to trust his balance, trust you. His grip on your hand eases, no longer a lifeline but something steady.

“See?” you grin. “You’re a natural.”

He scoffs softly, a hint of pride creeping into his expression. “I don’t know about that, but… I think I’m getting it.”

And then, emboldened by the success, he pushes off just a little harder.

“Eunwoo—” you warn.

His skate catches awkwardly, confidence turning into panic in an instant. His eyes widen as his balance slips completely.

He reaches for you on instinct.

You barely have time to yelp before he’s pulling you with him, the world tilting as the ice rushes up to meet you.

You land with a soft thud, breath knocked from your lungs, but not painfully. Eunwoo hits the ice first, arms reflexively wrapping around you to cushion the fall.

Sprawled on top of him, you brace your palms against his chest, faces far closer than they should be.

For a second, neither of you moves.

The rink noise fades, replaced by the sound of his breathing beneath you. l. Your own heart hammers as you register the solid warmth of him under your gloves, the way his hands are still holding you, protective even now.

“I—” he exhales. “Are you okay?”

You blink, then bust out laughing, unable to help yourself as nod, tears in your eyes.

His lips twitch, holding his own laugh as he smiles at you. “I guess I got a little too bold,” he admits bashfully, causing you to wheeze harder.

You should move. You know you should.

But for just a moment longer, you don’t.

You stay there, tangled together on the ice, staring into each other’s eyes as you both try to catch your breath.

Eventually, you scramble up, brushing snow from your knees. Eunwoo follows far less gracefully, grumbling under his breath as he pushes himself upright.

It takes some convincing, and a lot of reassurance, but he agrees to keep skating. Slowly, carefully, until his confidence returns.

The two of you stay until the rink finally closes, determined not to let the fall be the end of it.

By the time you make it back to the apartment complex, you’re both exhausted, legs sore from skating, faces aching from smiling too much.

“We should do that again,” you say casually, leaning against your doorframe with your skates slung over your shoulder.

Eunwoo lifts a playful brow. “I think I’m all skated out for the year,” he says, then hesitates. “But… if you think of anything else, you can text me.”

He looks away immediately, ears turning pink.

“Smooth,” you tease, grinning as you fold your arms across your chest. “But how exactly am I supposed to do that without your number?”

He freezes. Then, quietly, he reaches for his phone.

A beat passes before he holds it out to you, wordlessly giving you permission. You take it, fingers brushing his as you enter your number and send yourself a text.

When you hand it back, he smiles softly down at the screen. “I had fun tonight, [+].”

Elated to hear that, warmth blooms in your chest, heat spreading through you. “Me too, Eunwoo.”

Unsure who should turn in first, you bow out gracefully, wishing him a good night before slipping back into your apartment. You rest your head against the door, letting out a slow breath.

Oh you are so screwed.

⋆꙳•❅*°⋆❆.ೃ࿔*:･*❆ ₊⋆

You giggle a little too loudly at your phone, earning a curious look from your nosy work neighbor, Jake, who peeks over the top of his cubicle.

You mouth a quick sorry before grabbing your phone and slipping out onto the balcony, thumbs tapping furiously against the screen as the cold air bites at your cheeks.

Ever since exchanging numbers with Eunwoo, you’ve discovered another endearing trait about him.

He’s unintentionally funny.

Not in a try-hard, dad-jokes kind of way. But in a dry, perfectly timed, says-the-most-unexpected-thing way. The kind that catches you off guard and pulls laughs out of you when you least expect it.

The two of you have been texting more and more. Awkward at first, stilted replies, polite emojis, but slowly, the ice cracked. Each conversation revealing more of him. His humor. His thoughtfulness. The parts he didn’t show at first.

Before you even realized it, texting Eunwoo had become part of your routine. You looked forward to his messages when you woke up, during lunch breaks, and again when you got off work.

You felt ridiculous. Giddy. Like a schoolgirl waiting for a notification from her crush.

The thought sobers you slightly.

You straighten up, exhaling as you pocket your phone, forcing yourself to reel it in before it drifts any further.

You had to get a grip.

You make a promise to yourself not to reply to Eunwoo until you’re back in the security of your apartment, where no one but your four walls can witness your random outbursts.

Though, of course, upon returning home, you run into the very cause of your manic laughter. Lugging a Christmas tree into his apartment.

“You’re a little late putting your Christmas tree up, don’t you think?” you tease, catching his attention. “Need some help?”

“Could you get the door for me?” he asks, voice strained as he tosses you his keys.

The moment the door opens, Dongdongie sprints out, nails clicking against the floor as she barks at your feet.

You laugh, holding the door open while Eunwoo maneuvers the tree inside, your gaze drifting.

His apartment mirrors yours in layout, just inverted, dark furniture, clean lines, everything meticulously in its place. The faint scent of his cologne lingers in the air, warm and grounding.

You watch as he uprights the Christmas tree in the corner of living room. You would help, but he didn’t really invite you into his apartment, so you deem the safest option is to hang awkwardly by the entrance.

Once the tree is positioned to his liking, Eunwoo rests his hands on his hips, looking at you. “How does it look?”

“Great,” you say honestly, tilting your head. “Though it could be fluffed a little.”

He scratches the back of his neck, a touch sheepish. “I’m not really good at that… if you aren’t busy, could you help me?”

“Sure!” You answer immediately, slipping out of your work flats and setting your purse on the counter.

You probably should feel a little embarrassed about how quickly you jump at the chance to stay longer with Eunwoo.

You don’t.

The two of you fall into an easy rhythm, fluffing branches and adjusting gaps while trading small details about your day. Somewhere between fixing bent needles and stepping back to assess your progress, Eunwoo mentions that he doesn’t usually decorate for Christmas.

“But this year,” he adds quietly, glancing at you, “I had a change of heart.”

Curiosity stirs, your face warming as you turn the words over in your head.

Was he talking about you?

You shove the thought aside before it can take root. “So,” you say lightly, clapping your hands once, “what’s next? Are you actually going to decorate the tree?”

“I was thinking we let it replicate its natural state,” he says in faux seriousness.

You squint at him. “You didn’t buy ornaments, did you?”

He shakes his head, sheepish. “No…”

You laugh. “Wait right here.”

Darting across the hall, you grabbing the box of leftover ornaments from your apartment before returning to Eunwoo’s. Setting it down on his coffee table with a soft thud.

“Wow, [+],” he says, eyes widening. “That’s a lot. I couldn’t possibly take all of these.”

“Of course you can. My tree doesn’t need them,” you say with a reassuring smile. “And it’s better they get put to use than collect dust.”

You inch toward the door, already picturing his tree in your head. “Just send me pictures of how it turns out, okay?”

“You’re not going to help me?” he asks, brows lifting. “I mean, if you’re busy, I understand, but I figured there’s no one better to decorate a Christmas tree than the Christmas connoisseur herself.”

There it is. The smirk.

You fight your own smile, attempting to act nonchalant. “I mean, I guess I can spare you a couple more minutes of my time.”

He laughs, warm and genuine, and you find yourself joining in. Decorating becomes effortless, the two of you settling into a shared focus that feels strangely domestic. Eunwoo pauses often, holding up an ornament for your approval.

“Here?” he asks.

“Lower. Balance it out,” you instruct, stepping closer to fix it yourself.

Before you know it, the tree is glowing. Soft lights reflecting off the ornaments, filling the room with a quiet warmth. You step back, hands on your hips, admiring your work.

“All that’s left is the star,” you announce.

Eunwoo looks up at the top of the tree… then down at you. Then around his apartment.

“I don’t think I have a stool,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Well,” You pause, gauging his height. “You’re probably tall enough to reach.”

He grimaces, “Yeah but I don’t have a nack for placement like you do.”

There’s a beat. Then Eunwoo exhales softly, almost like he’s bracing himself.

“I can lift you,” he offers, voice careful. “If that’s okay.”

Your heart flips inside your chest, but you nod before you can overthink it. “Yeah. Okay.”

He steps closer, tentative at first. “Just tell me where to put my hands.”

“Uh… my waist is fine.” You breathe out.

His palms settle there, warm and firm even through the fabric of your sweater. “Ready?”

“Ready,” you say, gripping the star.

He lifts you with surprising ease, and suddenly you’re eye level with the top of the tree. Your breath catching as you realize just how close you are to him. Your knees brush his chest, his hands firm and steady, grounding you.

“Take your time,” he murmurs.

You reach up, carefully placing the star into position, adjusting it until it sits just right.

“Got it,” you whisper and Eunwoo lowers you back to the ground, but his hands linger. Still firm at your waist, anchoring you there. Eyes locked on yours, dark and unreadable.

Everything else seems to fade. The lights. The tree. The quiet hum of his apartment. His stare almost invasive, yet you don’t pull away.

Your eyes trace the arch of his brows, the bridge of his nose, the dip of his cupids bow, the curve to his lips. Everything about Eunwoo is mesmerizing, to the point where you don’t even realize you’re leaning in.

But then Dongdongie barks.

The sound snaps you both out of it. Eunwoo’s hands drop immediately, like he’s been burned, and you take a step back, heart racing.

“Shit! Cashew is probably pawing at the door right now,” you blurt, heading to the entrance, grabbing your purse. “It’s time for his walk.”

You’re talking too fast. Moving too fast. You need space before you do something you can’t undo.

“Yeah,” Eunwoo says, voice rough as he looks away. “Thank you for your help, [+]. I’ll… see you.”

You pause at the door, glancing back at him once more before nodding. “Anytime.”

And then you’re gone, leaving behind a perfectly decorated tree, and a moment that hangs in the air long after the door clicks shut.

⋆꙳•❅*°⋆❆.ೃ࿔*:･*❆ ₊⋆

“Wait, so you almost kissed him after decorating a Christmas tree?” Mahogany snorts, tossing snacks into the cart. “Who knew tree toppers were your kink. I know you’re a Christmas freak, but I didn’t expect it to manifest like this.”

“Stop,” you groan, pushing the cart forward. “This isn’t funny.”

It very much is, judging by her grin.

The two of you weave through the crowded aisles, grabbing last-minute supplies for your annual Christmas Eve party while you unload the latest drama of your life.

Your very inconvenient crush on Eunwoo.

“He hasn’t texted me since then,” you admit, voice dropping. “And I swear he’s been dodging me in person. I think I might’ve messed everything up.”

Mahogany stops the cart dead and fixes you with a look.

“[+], stop being dramatic,” she says flatly. “The man is shy. You two almost kissed in his living room. He’s probably still replaying it in his head on a loop.”

She tosses a bag of pretzels into the cart like punctuation. “That, or he’s just as confused as you are. I mean, you did flee the scene before you could talk about it.”

You sigh, shoulders slumping as you start walking again. “I was scared ok, I didn’t want to make things worse, or make a fool of myself. I just hate not knowing where I stand.”

“I know,” she says more gently, bumping the cart into your hip. “But if you really want clarity, send him an invite to your party. At least then you can talk to him in a space where there’s no pressure.”

You mull over her words, knowing she’s right. You can’t keep spiraling through mixed signals and unresolved tension.

Exhaling slowly, you pull out your phone and send him an invite, heart thudding as you hit send.

Christmas Eve arrives, and you’re a jittery mess.

You dart around your apartment, hanging last-minute decorations, adding garnish to appetizers, fluffing pillows that don’t need fluffing. Anything to keep your hands busy.

Anything to distract you from the conversation you know is coming.

Eunwoo agreed to swing by your party tonight, and your stomach has been in knots ever since. You don’t know if his yes means friendly, polite… or something else entirely.

But either way, you needed this conversation to happen.

Once everything is set up to your liking, you retreat to your room to get ready. You take your time at your vanity, perfecting your makeup, unraveling your freshly done silk press, and slipping into your deep V-cut sweater dress.

By the time you step back into the living room, fully glammed and glowing, guests are already trickling in.

Kam and Mo arrive first, of course. Loud, laughing, and already making themselves at home. They’re followed by some of your coworkers, workout buddies, and friends from college. Your apartment slowly filling with chatter, music, and the warmth of the season.

Like a switch, you flip into hosting mode, determined to make sure everyone is having a good time. Popping champagne, tagging in on karaoke, and keeping Kam far away from the buzzed eggnog.

You try to stay present, you really do, but your eyes keep drifting back to the door, half-expecting it to open at any second.

“Relax,” Mo says, waddling up beside you as she steals a cracker from the charcuterie board you’re fussing over. “He’ll come. He literally lives across the hall. He literally can’t miss it.”

You pout. “Exactly. He lives across the hall. He only has to take, like, two steps—”

The door opens.

Your words dying in your throat as Eunwoo peeks his head inside, scanning the room until his gaze lands on you. When it does, his expression softens, and he steps in fully, closing the door behind him.

You inhale sharply.

Eunwoo looks… really good.

His hair is slicked back neatly, a crisp button-down tucked into slacks. In one hand, he holds a bottle of wine; in the other, a small gift bag.

“See,” Mo murmurs smugly, snatching the tray from your hands before waddling off again.

He walks toward you slowly, an apologetic smile tugging at his lips. “Sorry I’m late,” he says. “I couldn’t figure out what kind of wine you’d like.” He holds the bottle out to you.

You take it with a soft smile. “Thank you, Eunwoo. You really didn’t have to bring anything.”

He shrugs, bashful, and the two of you just stand there, hovering in that familiar, awkward limbo.

“So—” you both start at the same time.

You laugh softly, Eunwoo chuckling along, the tension easing just a bit.

“You go first,” he insists, and you take a deep breath.

“Okay… I just wanted to clear the air about last week. I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable when I—uh—tried to kiss you. I know it was sudden, and I’m really sorry if it caught you off guard.”

You search his eyes for a hint of his thoughts, but he just stares at you, which only spikes your anxiety. “I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you this Christmas, and I hope I didn’t screw anything up with my actions, or read things the wrong way.”

He takes a careful step forward, and you instinctively step back, mouth snapping shut as your back press against the counter. “Here,” he says, holding out the gift bag to you.

You take the bag, fingers brushing his as you tug it closer. “You didn’t have to get me a gift Eunwoo.”

He glances away, throat clearing as he speaks. “I saw this and thought you’d like it since you enjoy drinks like hot chocolate and stuff.”

Curious, you ruffle through the bag, pulling out a porcelain mug. Printed on it is a candid photo of the two of you at the ice rink, mid-laugh, skating hand in hand on the ice.

“How … how do you get this?” you ask, astonished, holding it up.

He shifts his weight slightly, hands tucking into his pockets, voice calm. “When you went to the bathroom that day, one of the rink photographers came by and asked if I wanted to see the pictures he took of us. I thought they looked nice, so I bought one and got it printed on a mug.”

You stare at the mug in awe, cheeks hurting from how hard you’re smiling.

“Do you like it?” He asks, staring at you intensely.

You meet his gaze, nodding as your heartbeat quickens. “I love it…but what does it mean?”

Eunwoo exhales softly, a small, deliberate smile tugging at his lips. “It means that you have nothing to worry about, [+]. I feel the same way about you.”

He sets the mug on the counter and slides his hand into yours, his thumb brushing lightly across your palm. “I’ll admit, I’ve been a little distant the past few days, trying to work things out in my head. I was scared to mess things up too.”

Your heartbeat quickens.

“From every little interaction we shared, I could feel my feelings growing for you. And that kind of freaked me out, especially since I didn’t know where your head was at.”

You nod, encouraging him to continue. “But when you almost kissed me that day,” he continues, voice steady, “I realized I didn’t want to keep guessing. I just needed a minute to be brave enough to meet you where you were.”

Your throat tightens.

“I was scared,” he admits, glancing away for a brief moment before looking back at you. “Not of you—of how much I like you. How easy it feels. I didn’t want to rush it and ruin what we have building between us.”

Your chest blooms with warmth, emotion pressing behind your ribs.

“I thought you were pulling away,” you whisper. “I didn’t know if I imagined everything.”

“You didn’t,” he says immediately. “Not for a second.”

Smiling, you pull him into a hug. His arms wrap around you without hesitation, warm and sure. With your head against his chest, you can feel how fast his heart is beating. Matching your own.

A camera shutter snaps, yanking you back to reality.

“Aww, look at the Christmas miracle unfolding before us,” Mahogany snickers as Kam snaps another photo.

“Guys,” you start, turning to glare at them, but Eunwoo only laughs, one hand rubbing soothing circles into your back.

“What?” Kam shrugs. “We’re just preserving memories. Your kids are gonna want to see these.”

Your face heats instantly. “Oh my god—”

They scatter before you can finish, laughter echoing in the living room.

“I’m so sorry about them,” you mutter, mortified. “They always have to be weird and ruin a good moment.”

Eunwoo’s hand lifts, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face. He shakes his head, eyes soft. “The moment isn’t ruined,” he says gently. “I want you, [+]. And everything that comes with you. Even your crazy friends.”

“We heard that!” Mahogany shouts.

You both laugh.

“Should we… get back to the party?” you ask.

He nods, fingers threading through yours.

The rest of the night unfolds easier than you expected.

Eunwoo stays close, your fingers brushing more than once as you move through the apartment together. You introduce him to everyone. And though he’s still reserved, he warms up quickly. Polite smiles turn into quiet laughter, short answers turn into thoughtful conversation.

Kam takes an immediate liking to him, looping him into a debate about the best Christmas movie soundtrack. Mahogany corners him at one point, nodding approvingly like she’s conducting a silent background check. Whatever she sees must pass, because she gives you a subtle thumbs-up from across the room.

You catch Eunwoo watching you when he thinks you’re not looking. The way you laugh too loud. The way you move through the room like you belong everywhere at once. And when your eyes meet, he doesn’t look away this time.

At some point, someone gasps near the window.

“Wait! Oh my god, it’s snowing.”

That gets everyone moving.

Coats are grabbed, shoes hastily slipped on, champagne flutes abandoned on the counter as the party spills outside in a mess of laughter and excitement. Snow drifts down slow and soft, dusting hair and shoulders, turning the night quiet in that magical way only snowfall can.

You step out beside Eunwoo, breath fogging in the cold. He tilts his head up slightly, watching the snow fall, something thoughtful settling over his expression.

“I know it’s not the first snow of the season,” he says, almost sheepish. “But back home, people say the first snow you share with someone is a sign of good fortune and lasting love.

Your heart skips. “Is that so?”

He nods, turning to you, eyes steady and sincere. Snow gathers in his hair, lashes dusted white.

“Well then I hope the tradition rings true.” You say, stepping closer.

The words land slowly, deliberately.

Eunwoo’s gloved hand lifts, hesitating just long enough to give you time to pull away. But you don’t. Instead, you lean in, closing the space between you.

His breath mingles with yours, warm against the cold, and when his lips finally meet yours it’s gentle. Testing. Like he’s asking a question with the press of his mouth.

You answer by kissing him back.

The second kiss is deeper, surer. His hands settle at your waist, pulling you tighter as snowflakes melt between you. You rest your hands against his chest, feeling his heartbeat thrum beneath your palms.

Kissing Eunwoo is better than everything you imagined. Unhurried, warm, the faint sweetness of peppermint lingering on his tongue as it brushes against yours. The cold around you fades, leaving only the warmth of him, the snow, and this perfect moment suspended in time.

When you finally pull back just enough to breathe, your foreheads rest together, breaths mingling. His gaze meets yours, soft and steady.

“I’m so glad I ran into you that day on the elevator,” he murmurs, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I didn’t know it then, but that was the start of something I’ve wanted for a long time.”

You smile, heart full. “Me too.”

He takes your hand, fingers intertwining with yours, and gives a gentle squeeze. “Here’s to our first snow… and to many more.”

As the snow continues to fall around you, quiet and soft, you can’t help but think how unexpected life can be. Who knew the best gift you could ask for had been across from you this whole time?

A/N: Thank you all so much for reading! Always feel free to share your thoughts in the comments🫶🏽 Wishing everyone a happy holidays and New Years!