summary: the pastor’s son fucks you in the back room of the church, promising god’s forgiveness while ruining your last shred of purity.
pairing: mark lee x fem!reader
genre: smut, religious corruption, dark romance.
warnings: explicit sexual content, anal virginity, church setting, religious guilt, oral (m receiving), squirting, degradation, sacreligious language, coercion under trust, creampie, overstimulation, power imbalance, aftercare (light), public risk, no vaginal penetration.
part. ii - part. iii
MDNI 🔞
you had always been the image of virtue. ever since you were little, your life had revolved around the church—every sunday service, every youth retreat, every choir practice and prayer circle. your mother made sure you were dressed modestly, always with your bible tucked in your bag and your heart turned toward god. everyone in town knew your name, whispered it in admiration—such a good girl, they said. so devoted. so pure.
and mark lee... well, he was supposed to be the same. the pastor's son, golden and clean, always sitting in the front pew with his father’s bible open on his lap, eyes closed in pretend prayer. he smiled with soft dimples and spoke in warm, respectful tones that made your mother adore him instantly. she liked to say god had placed him in your path for a reason. and maybe that was true. maybe god had placed him there—to test you.
you hadn’t meant for anything to happen. it started so small, just conversations after service, long looks shared across the chapel, the brush of fingers when you passed him a hymnal. he was gentle at first, careful not to cross a line, but each moment alone with him felt like gravity pulling you closer. and when he kissed you the first time—behind the fellowship hall after bible study—you felt like the world stopped. his lips were warm and soft and sinful.
when you first started sneaking around with mark, things were softer. more innocent. you’d meet behind the church after evening mass, hiding between the tall hedges where no one could see you. he’d press gentle kisses to your lips, hold your hand tightly, whisper sweet nothings against your ear as if you were the most precious thing in the world.
he never rushed you—not at first. he’d just touch you over your clothes, his hands resting respectfully on your waist, sliding up under your blouse only when you let him. and each time you let him go a little further, his praise would melt you. you’re so good for me, baby. so sweet. so perfect.
the first time he touched you under your skirt, you thought your heart would stop. his fingers were warm, slow, exploring the damp heat between your thighs through your panties while he kissed your neck. you were shaking the whole time, clutching his shoulders like a lifeline as he whispered filth in your ear in that low, reverent voice of his.
god made this body just for me, didn’t he? you were meant to be mine.
the day you got on your knees for him was the day something shifted between you.
it was in the church parking lot, late at night, both of you hidden behind the youth ministry van. you’d been making out for too long, your thighs pressed together from the ache building inside you. his cock was hard against his jeans, and when he asked do you wanna try something new, baby?, you nodded without thinking.
he guided your hands to his zipper, helped you pull him out—long, thick, flushed at the tip. your breath caught when you saw it, your mouth already watering.
“just lick it for me,” he said softly, brushing your hair behind your ears. “just a little. just the tip.”
but it wasn’t just a little. not when you saw how much he wanted it, how his jaw clenched and his hands trembled when your lips wrapped around the head of his cock. you took him deeper, his praises growing filthier with every inch you swallowed. the taste of him was salt and skin, musky and intimate, and you moaned around him without meaning to.
he came down your throat that night, holding your head with both hands, whispering you’re so fucking perfect while you swallowed every drop. and afterward, he kissed you so gently you almost cried.
but still—you never let him go all the way.
you’d told him you were saving yourself for your husband. that you’d only give yourself completely after standing before god, in white, with a ring on your finger.
mark didn’t push. not exactly. but his hands got more confident, his touches more persuasive. and every time he left you trembling, wet, begging quietly into his mouth—he’d whisper:
“god will forgive you. he made you to want me”
now you were here, months later, hidden away in the church’s back room. it was where the choir robes were stored, a little room behind the altar with old wooden shelves and a dusty piano no one used anymore. you weren’t supposed to be here, not alone with a boy, not with him. but your hands were already shaking as he kissed down your neck, one of his palms pressed to the small of your back, keeping you pinned to the edge of the table.
“you’re so beautiful,” he whispered, lips brushing against your ear, “so perfect, baby. you know how crazy you make me?”
you whimpered, fingers curling in the sleeves of his shirt. “mark... we shouldn’t. not here... not like this.”
his hands slid lower, gripping your hips. “why not? no one’s gonna find us. besides... god will forgive us. he always forgives. he sees love in our hearts. don’t you love me?”
you bit your lip, your whole body trembling with guilt and want. “i do... but i want to wait until we’re married. i want to give myself to my husband. i want god to bless it.”
his eyes darkened, not with anger but with something deeper—desire. temptation. “then marry me. i swear i will. you’re the only girl i want. but i want you now... please. just let me have a little more.”
“mark, i can’t...” your voice cracked, shame pooling in your chest. “it’s a sin.”
“he’ll cleanse us,” he whispered, kissing along your jaw, “he knows your heart. you’re doing this out of love. and he knows you’re still pure... if we don’t—if i don’t take you like that.”
you blinked at him, confused. “like what?”
he leaned in, his lips ghosting over yours. “i’ll still leave your virginity intact,” he murmured, hand slipping down between your thighs, pressing over your clothes, “you’ll still be untouched. we won’t do it the usual way. i’ll just take you here—” he kissed your cheek, “from behind.”
your breath caught.
“it won’t count,” he whispered, voice sweet like a prayer, “you’ll still be a virgin. still god’s perfect girl.”
you hesitated. the weight of every sermon you’d ever heard sat heavy on your shoulders. but his hands were on your body, and his mouth was on your throat, and your skin was burning. and deep down, there was something dark inside you that wanted it. something that pulsed every time he touched you, something that made your knees weak and your mind hazy.
“promise me,” you whispered, voice barely audible. “promise me you’ll marry me.”
he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes. “i promise. i’ll take you to the altar myself.”
and that was all it took.
your heart was pounding in your chest as he turned you around gently, his hands never leaving your body. the room was dim, lit only by the soft amber light that spilled through the stained glass near the door. you could hear your own breathing, shallow and fast, as mark guided you to lean over the wooden table. the old surface creaked under your weight, the air cool against your thighs as he slowly lifted the hem of your white sunday dress.
“look at you,” he murmured, voice husky now, more raw, more real. “so innocent. so ready to sin for me.”
his fingers trailed up the back of your thighs, calloused and warm, until he reached the soft curve of your ass. your panties were white, lace-trimmed—modest, sweet, something your mother had bought for you. but they were soaked through, and mark saw it right away.
“jesus,” he breathed, a smirk forming on his lips. “you’re dripping already, baby.”
you whimpered as he tugged them down, the delicate fabric catching around your knees before sliding all the way to your ankles. your cheeks burned with shame and arousal, both twisting deep in your belly as you felt the cool air kiss your now-bare skin.
“bend down for me,” he whispered, pressing between your shoulders until you were fully bent over the table, your elbows resting on the worn wood, your ass presented to him like an offering.
you felt him drop to his knees behind you, felt his hands spread you open, exposing every trembling inch. he kissed along the inside of your thighs, soft and slow, his tongue flicking dangerously close to where you ached. you gasped when you felt him spit between your cheeks, fingers guiding the wetness to your tight entrance.
“it’ll hurt a little,” he murmured, voice lower now, more dangerous. “but you can take it. you’re a good girl, right? you want to make me feel good?”
you nodded, your eyes closing, your hands gripping the edge of the table so hard your knuckles went white. “yes… i want to be good.”
“then stay just like that for me.”
he stood again, one hand gripping your waist as you heard the rustle of his belt, the soft clink of the buckle as he undid his pants. then his cock was pressing against you, thick and hot, the head teasing at your tightest spot.
you tensed.
“nghh—ahhh, too much—!”
“shh,” he said softly, kissing your shoulder. “relax for me, baby. let me in.”
he pushed slowly at first, and your breath caught in your throat as the stretch began—hot and burning, unfamiliar and intense. tears pricked the corners of your eyes, and you whimpered, body trembling as he pushed further, inch by inch.
“m-mark—! it hurts—”
“shh, quiet, baby. you don’t want anyone hearing how much of a filthy little thing you are, do you?” once he was buried inside, he paused, letting you adjust, his fingers caressing your hips, your waist, whispering soft praises against your ear.
you could barely breathe as you felt every inch of him inside you, thick and pulsing, stretching you open in a way that made your entire body tense. your hands gripped the edge of the table so tightly that your wrists ached, your forehead pressed against the wood as your mouth hung open, panting through the pressure, through the sting. his hands were firm on your hips, thumbs digging into your skin as he stayed buried inside you, letting you feel the full weight of what you’d just done.
“fuck,” he whispered, voice reverent, almost in awe. “you’re squeezing me so tight. you feel like fucking heaven.”
you whimpered, a mix of pain and pleasure blooming in your belly like a wildfire. his hips rolled just slightly, testing how much you could take, and the slow friction made your knees shake. it wasn’t like anything you’d imagined. it wasn’t sweet or soft—it was raw and thick and full. your body fought to accommodate him, fluttering around the intrusion as he began to move in earnest.
“this is what you wanted. i’m just giving you what that virgin pussy of yours was too scared to handle.”
“mmph—! nghh—ahh—!”
“what was that? you like being stuffed full of my cock? like being my dirty little church whore?”
each thrust came a little deeper, a little harder, his pace increasing as the tightness began to melt into something warmer, wetter. you bit down on your lip, trying to stay quiet, but the sounds spilling from you betrayed how good it started to feel. shame pooled hot in your stomach, because it wasn’t supposed to feel like this. you weren’t supposed to like it.
“look at you,” he groaned, slamming into you harder now, one hand sliding up your back to grab a fistful of your hair. “moaning like a little slut while i fuck your virgin ass. does it feel good, baby? you gonna come for me like this?”
your mouth opened in a raw scream, half agony, half ecstasy, unable to hold back the flood of sound escaping you.
“oh my god, oh my god, it’s stretching me too much—!”
“jesus, you’re so fucking loud—shut up, baby, shut up.” he shoved your face down against the table, hand over your mouth again, his hips snapping harder.
“if anyone hears you, they’ll know how desperate you are to get fucked like this.”
you cried out as he pulled your head back, forcing your spine into a deep arch, making you feel every brutal thrust more sharply. the pain burned, yes, but under it was something more intense—your body trembling as a deep heat began to coil between your legs. your thighs were slick, your clit aching from how empty it felt, untouched but throbbing.
his balls slapped against you with each thrust, obscene sounds echoing in the small, sacred space of the church storage room. the smell of sweat and sex filled the air, mixing with the faint trace of incense that lingered on the choir robes stacked beside you. it was filthy. wrong. holy.
he let go of your hair and reached between your thighs, fingers finding your clit without hesitation. you sobbed as he rubbed fast, circles tight and relentless, and your hips started to jerk back against him on instinct, chasing something you didn’t fully understand.
“you’re gonna come,” he grunted, almost laughing, breath hot against your ear. “you’re gonna come like this, with my cock in your ass, right here in god’s house. fuck, baby... you’re perfect.”
“m-mark—i… i feel like i’m gonna pee—”
your vision blurred as your body locked up, tension snapping all at once in a flash of heat and shame and unbearable pleasure. your orgasm ripped through you like lightning, a violent gush exploding between your legs, spraying down your thighs and onto the floor with a loud, wet sound that shocked even you.
“jesus fucking christ—” he gasped, faltering for the first time as your body clenched around him like a vice, milking him deeper.
mark’s hips stuttered the moment he felt the rush of wetness pour out of you, his breath catching in his throat like he couldn’t believe what just happened. your body was shaking beneath him, trembling and spasming uncontrollably as your release coated your thighs, dripping messily down onto the floor. he pulled back just slightly to look, to see the way you squirted for him, your slick glistening under the dim church light.
“fuck, baby…” he groaned, sounding half-wrecked, half-awestruck. “you just—fuck—i made you do that?”
he grabbed your hips tighter, almost possessively, and slammed back into you, still deep in the grip of his own rising climax. your body was so sensitive now, every thrust making you jolt forward, your muscles twitching from the overstimulation. but he didn’t stop—not yet. he was chasing something now, something hot and desperate.
“you came so fucking hard,” he growled against your neck, his thrusts getting sloppier, deeper. “your little virgin body just squirted all over my cock… and you were so scared of sinning.”
you moaned weakly, your voice raw and broken, drool slipping from your lips as your cheek pressed flat against the table. your body felt like it was floating, skin hot and damp with sweat, your hole still stretched tight around him, sucking him in greedily every time he pulled back.
“mine,” he whispered like a prayer, fucking into you with final, brutal thrusts. “you’re mine. god can’t have you anymore. you belong to me.”
and then he came.
with a deep, guttural moan, mark buried himself inside you one last time and spilled everything into your ass—hot and thick, ropes of cum filling you until you could feel it dripping back out around his cock. his hips jerked as he emptied himself, one hand sliding up to hold your waist while the other rubbed your lower back in shaky, soothing circles.
he stayed inside you for a moment, breathing hard, chest rising and falling against your back, sweat clinging to both your skins. the room was quiet except for the sound of your combined breaths and the faint ticking of an old wall clock above the door.
you blinked slowly, still dazed, still trembling. and for a brief second, you felt completely hollow and completely full at the same time—ruined, marked, and claimed.
he pulled out slowly, and you whimpered at the emptiness, at the sticky warmth leaking down the back of your thighs. your body sagged against the table, weak and used, your legs barely holding you up. you could feel his release slipping from your hole, thick and hot, a constant reminder of what you’d let him do—what you’d begged him to do.
“stay still,” he murmured softly, voice gentler now, almost sweet. he reached for a folded choir robe from the shelf beside him, one of the ones no one ever used, and knelt behind you again. with quiet, careful hands, he cleaned the mess dripping down your thighs, the backs of your knees, and finally between your cheeks. he wiped away the cum from your entrance, his touch slow and reverent, like he was cleaning something sacred.
you flinched slightly, still too sensitive, and he pressed a kiss to your lower back. “i’ve got you,” he whispered. “you were perfect for me.”
when he was done, he helped you step back into your panties, tugging them up gently over your sore, sticky skin. he straightened your dress, smoothing out the wrinkles like he was tucking you back into your illusion of purity. then he kissed your cheek, your temple, your lips—slow and soft and careful, like he hadn’t just broken something inside you.
you both stood in silence for a moment, breathing slowly, the air still thick with the scent of sin and sweat.
and then he reached for his bible.
he tucked it under one arm and held out his other hand to you. you took it, fingers lacing with his, still trembling slightly. and together, you walked out of that little storage room, out into the bright white hallway of the church.
the front doors were open. sunlight poured in. a breeze moved through the sanctuary like nothing had happened.
as you stepped into the entryway, mark dipped his fingers into the small bowl of holy water near the door. he touched his forehead, chest, and shoulders, murmuring the sign of the cross with practiced grace. you followed suit, mimicking the motion, your fingers wet and cool against your burning skin.
no one would ever know.
you were still god’s children, still his favorites.
your actions, emotions and sometimes words lead to everyone thinking you may be in love with mark even though you refuse to cross the line between friendship and something more.
pairing ! nonidol!mark x fem!reader.
genre ! angst, fluff, a bit suggestive, mention of alcohol, mention of reader getting drunk, mention of cheating (not them), reader wears glasses.
wc ! 4.2k
note ! HAPPY BDAY BOY, YOU THOUGH I WAS GONNA FORGET. i wrote this in like one day, probably many errors,,, but well i WANTED to post it so yea, another one soon (dont act believe me) !! anyway happy mark day, is almost ending but well, i love my boy so here is my gift to y’all bc why aren’t more mark fics on his day?? HATE CRIME.
a few feet away from you, the sight of him was clouding every single one of your senses.
you don’t even dare to look away, every time you tried to, was like the room had a dark twisted fog surrounding it and he was the only clear body in sight. the pout adorning your lips becomes more prominent when his twinkled gaze finds you, it was just a mere glance, not even a second, nor even noticing your flustered state, as he doesn’t waste time to go back to the conversation he was having.
blinking twice, you are not able to take your eyes off the scene unfolding in the approximately next four seconds. the girl stepped closer to him, bringing her hand to softly brush his hair away, acting as if it was getting in his eyes. you knew that move, you have used it before.
it leaves a strange taste in your mouth, so you bring the red cup to your lips, not even sure what it had in it anymore. you take a small sip, using the fruitiness savor just to make the bittersweet feeling go away — but it doesn’t work, you don’t even feel the watery-like liquid going down your throat the moment you see him lean down to be able to hear her better.
you feel your stomach drop as your hand crushes the plastic cup slightly, he shouldn’t be that close to her.
from where you were standing it looked like one wrong move and they would kiss, and just with that thought appearing in your mind you felt like puking, watching as his fingers held her wrist, letting her hand rest on top of his chest. you couldn’t actually hear them but mark’s laugh was a sound etched in your head, so you did know how he sounded as he threw his head back with a smile on his face while she was giggling.
is not like you are bothered looking at him flirting with someone else, honestly for you he’s just a friend and who he flirts with it’s the least of your worries, the thing is that she is not just ‘someone else’. of all his exes, you would argue she’s the worst — “are you going to stare at them all night?” your friend’s voice makes you, finally, look away.
blinking a few times, you look at her with a frown taking over your features, “i am not staring.”
you put the cup down on the furniture behind you, trying to stop your eyes from going to where he was again, “yeah, sure,” your friend giselle says, a knowing smile on her lips.
“i just— don’t like her, that’s all.”
and it was true, how could you like someone who shamelessly flirted with a stranger in front of him? she may have not cheated and he may have forgiven her, but you are his friend, it is your duty to hate her for the rest of your life. and that’s why you are a little bothered by it, nothing else, just a friend being protective of a friend, that’s it.
jeno nudges your side, “umm. . . ‘cause she’s getting his attention and you are not.”
you open your mouth, ready to say something even though no matter what you say, is going to sound like a lame excuse to them. “don’t think is that, she’s wearing his jacket,” giselle points out at what you were wearing, making a small pause, “she came hand in hand with him and-.”
jaemin’s voice calling jeno to play beer ping pong can be heard, and on top of it, an scoff from you, quickly naming all the reasons they have heard before:
“it fits me!” you motion with your hands, “also, it gives a nice touch to the outfit, you know it.” you watch the boy nodding before patting your head, not wanting to hear you anymore as he walks to the table a few steps away from you.
you hold two fingers up, “and he picked me up on his way, it was convenient!”
she bites a laugh, nodding her head slowly, “okay. . . that doesn’t mean you have to hold hands.”
“that’s- that’s no-” you take a deep breath as you found yourself stuttering, knowing it doesn’t help your case , “he- you know, he’s always holding everyone’s hands,” you shake your head, tired of explaining the same things every time.
ning chimes in, “yeah, because that’s what friends always do.”
you can sense the sarcastic tone in her voice, making you frown as you turn to look at her, “yes.” you say and then, a hiccup leaves your mouth, a clear sign of your alcoholized state, “whatever, this is dumb,” you push yourself off the wall, stumbling a bit as you try to walk away, “i’m getting another drink.”
two steps you had taken when you heard your friend say, “girl, you are already bad.”
you feel her hand around your wrist, making you stop for a second, “i-” you stopped yourself, watching as she seems about to scold you by the expression on her face, “no alcohol, water, water.”
pushing her hand off your wrist, you motion for her to calm down with your hands. before making your way towards the kitchen, you needed a minute to shut your mind, needing to get away from the room before you get more frustrated about having to repeat the same things you have told your friends, one, two, three times even: you are just friends, there’s nothing between you and mark, you are not in love with him.
-
if i slip and somehow say it, you should know in advance i’m wasted.
for you, this was the most boring party of the year.
ning had decided to join the ping pong beer table, where she was having the time of her life beating everyone’s ass. giselle was easy to spot, in the centre of the room, swaying her body to the rhythm coming from the speakers. jeno was dragged to, probably, some other game by jaemin, and mark, you are not quite sure anymore.
you on the other side, you had taken a bottle of water from the fridge because giselle was right — and so, you decided to lower the alcohol in your system. the cold air of the night touched your face, making you bring your hand up and cover your cheeks for a second, before sitting down on the balcony. you wanted so badly to go home, change your clothes for some of mark’s oversized shirts and just lay in bed until you fall asleep.
but you can’t leave the party, you came to the party with him and you are leaving with him, it was an unspoken agreement and even when he hasn’t been by your side since the moment you let go of his hand to hug your friends, you were going to wait for him.
putting the water bottle down by your side, you bring your legs to your chest, resting your cheeks on top of your knees, hugging yourself trying to keep the cold away. your eyes wandered to the party going inside the apartment, being able to locate your friends easily, even mark who was now with the boys except you aren’t able to make him look at you, so you turn away, noticing how the stars were the only source of light outside.
it was a bit frustrating, how you can’t seem to ignore that feeling tonight, how every inch of your body wanted him to be with you instead of whatever he was doing, even when you have told him repeatedly that you are just friends which was more of a poor excuse for you to. . . — “there you are.”
your line of thought is interrupted by his voice, it was soft, like it was meant to be heard only by you. turning to the sound of his voice, you blink a couple times to push the tiredness away, squinting your eyes as you look at him squatting down in front of you.
his hair was a bit messy, probably from running his hands through it — or her hands. one of his sweet smiles was adorning his face, making you feel a bit at ease for a moment, his shining big eyes looking at you intensely, like he was trying to study you.
“there you are,” you say, scrunching your nose at him, not moving from your comfortable position, “you have been. . . busy all night, haven’t you?”
he shakes his head, one of his hands going to poke your cheek, “yeah, looking for you.”
you roll your eyes, words leaving your mouth before you could process it, “liar.” it was barely a whisper and he was able to hear it because of how close he was, “you were by her side all night.”
a frown appears on his face, “her side?” he sounds confused while his eyes dart around, as if he was thinking, “who’s her, baby?”
“don’t call me baby,” you whine, making him bite a laugh, not wanting to make you mad when you were clearly a bit drunk and sleepy. “not when you were all touchy with her.”
“can you say her name?”
mark was trying to understand what was going inside your mind because he knows you, and your drunk sleepy version tends to be a bit dramatic —he loves it though, you get all pouty, your cheeks adorned by a light pink flush and you babble nonsense, you are just cute.
you shake your head, “no, i don’t want to.” he hums, his hand brushing your cheek softly, “you know i don’t like her,” you pause, making a puking sound to show how disgusted your are, “you,” you finally turn your head up, “you,” pointing at him, “please, don’t get back together.”
that’s when he gets what you were talking about, shaking his head quickly while both his hands go to hold yours, “baby, that’s no- i’m never getting back with her, no.”
he starts to explain, talking fast, wanting nothing more than for you to know there was nothing to worry about. “i was waiting for her friends to be back! she was really drunk and- and- really i didn’t think it was okay to leave her alone like that- i, baby, i was trying to- i even held her wrist to push her hand away and. . . sorry baby, it won’t happen again, i swear.”
“whatever. . . she sucks,” you say, ”and you deserve better,” putting your hands on top of his, your eyes closed and a pout on your lips, “just- don’t want the boy i love get his heart broken again,” he feels his heart skip a beat, hearing you say those words for the first time.
-
every friend of mine, i told them the same: no, i’m not in love.
your nostrils were filled with the smell of smoke, and with it a small drop of eggs, bread and strawberry, making you jolt awake. you sat up on the bed, not opening your eyes yet, as you feel a slightly pulsating pressing around your head, and now you regret drinking that much the night before.
opening your eyes slowly, you blink a couple times to adjust them to the light, rubbing your eyelids softly before you physically freeze.
memories of the night before appearing in your mind, it was fragments, short moments, ending quickly. your friends, you, mark. the sounds you were hearing didn’t exactly belong to the moments you were watching. it was like a movie edit, the scenes, voice-over, random song in the background, and the words, more specifically that word. love. the boy i love.
you shake your head, pushing the blanket off your body with your hands and feet, standing up quickly, your feet almost getting stuck in the blanket, almost making you fall.
those memories have to be your own mind messing with you, yes, you are doing that, there was no way you had said that word to him, the only explanation could be your drunken state. your feet seem to be acting on its own, making you walk from one side of the room to the other, pacing while your fingers fidget with the ends of the shirt you were wearing — his shirt.
you feel a shiver going down your spine, standing still in the middle of the room — his room. is not the first time you have slept in that room, hell, you have even shared the same bed before but this time was different. very different. you take your phone from the nightstand and waste no time in quickly unlocking it, your hands trembling as you do so, you stop walking for a second while staring at the screen.
‘who could you call’ that was the question in bold capital letters. you stare at giselle contact, shaking your head no as you realise she’s probably sleeping and would kill you if you wake her up. then jaemin, he would be really helpful if he actually picked up the phone. and so you decide the only person who could help you was ning.
you press the call button while your feet take you to the bathroom, locking the door as soon as you step in the place. one ring, you could feel your heart about to jump out your chest. two rings, running your hand throughout your face. three rings, you are seriously considering jumping out the window. four rings and if she doesn’t pick u-. . . “i have only said ‘i love you’ twice in my entire life.”
those are the first words that leave your mouth; the second she picks up. is a whisper, scared someone else may hear you. “. . .okay?”
“and this doesn’t count, right?” a breathy laugh escapes your lips, “i was wasted so I didn't mean it.”
you were trying to convince yourself that whatever happened wasn’t important and you knew it, you have been doing that for the last two months. you hear ning’s voice on the other side of the line “what did you do?”
“. . . ummn,” you hesitate because for you, the second you allow yourself to say it out loud is when everything becomes real. “you know i was pretty drunk last night. . .”
you were whispering while pronouncing every word slowly, and you could picture ning rolling her eyes and taking a deep breath, “umm. . . more like tipsy but yes, i can recall that, and?”
closing your eyes, you give yourself a pat on the back, ready to say the next words: “i told mark something along the lines of ‘i love you’.”
this time, you talked really fast, still a whisper but fast, you hear a gasp on the other like, “you did what? oh my-. . .” she pauses, and you hear movement, before she adds: “and what happened after?”
opening your mouth to answer, you stop yourself, eyes squinted as you look at the wall trying to remember. blinking once, you turn your attention to the phone call, “don’t know!” she could hear the frustration in your voice, except that she was wrong about the reason why, “and don’t care, ning, are you hearing what i’m saying?”
“yes, you said ‘i love you’ to mark.”
you close your eyes, shaking your head as you hear what she said, a mix of a crying noise and a whine leaving your mouth, “that’s not possible, you know."
your friend takes a deep breath, and this time you can hear it, “it is, you love him.”
“i’m not in love with him, we are just friends,” you quickly say, like you were programmed to say those words, “ning, i only have said ‘i love you’ to two men in my entire life,” you say, holding a finger up as you talk, “to park jinyoung when i met him like three years ago,” she hums, remembering clearly that moment, “and my ex, who i dated just because he looked like park jinyoung!” your hand quickly covers your mouth as you noticed you raised your voice saying that.
“and now, mark.” ning adds, humming slowly, as if she was pointing something helpful.
you gasp as an idea crosses your mind, pointing at yourself in the mirror, “i wasn’t wearing glasses. . . he probably looked like jinyoung to me!”
you hear ning let out a laugh, a really loud one, “be for real, mark looks nothing like him.” and she was right, you knew it, but you also knew that you needed a real explanation, “my friend, i love you but you are annoying.” you are about to refute her words but she keeps talking:
“mark has been having heart eyes for you, who knows for how long, don’t you feel guilty knowing you are constantly playing with his feelings?” that did hurt. “i know you are not, like, doing it on purpose, but girl, don’t just come here and say you said those words because you were thinking about your celebrity crush, we all know is not true.” and she was right. “we all have been seeing the way you act and even feel around him, i know it is the first time you have felt this way and it is probably scary but you are in love with him.“
-
i’m not in love, no, why would you think that?
your hand was holding the door handle, one twist and it would open, closing your eyes, you take a deep breath, calming yourself before putting a fake smile on your lips. no, you shouldn’t be smiling. you frown, the typical expression you tend to have every time you wake up.
you are met up with a lovely sight, if that’s what you would call the not fully cooked eggs, a slightly burnout toast and some strawberry juice. you try to bite a laugh, unsuccessfully doing so, and that sound makes mark turn around, his eyes darting from the food on the table to you, a nervous smile adorning his lips while one his hands scratches the back of his neck.
walking towards the table you make eye contact for a second, before gluing your eyes to the food plate, “not that good of a morning, huh?”
he shakes his head, pointing to the pan behind him, “i’m making more.”
motioning with your hand, you take a seat, grabbing a slice of bread and looking at it closely before putting it down, “don’t you have cereal?”
“i-. . . yes.” he stumbles across his small kitchen, grabbing the milk from the fridge, “how are you feeling?” he asks as he sets the milk in front of you, his eyes trying to find yours, failing as you refuse to look at him.
“ummn. . . my head hurts a bit,” you say, taking a sip from the strawberry juice, “don’t remember much from last night.”
and then a hiccup leaves your body. giving you away to him.
he squints his eyes, “right,” you grab the box of cereal off his hands, “do you remember saying. . .” he makes a pause, looking at you intensely, observing your movements. and you tensed, fearing his next words, “that you would give me 300 if you weren’t able to do a split?”
that makes you look at him, a frown taking over your features, because no amount of alcohol in your system would make you say something about doing a split,“that didn’t happen.”
squinting your eyes, you don’t look away as he keeps his eyes on yours, “it did happen.”
“no, it didn’t."
a smirk tries to appear on his lips but he keeps a blank expression, taking a few steps forward, “how could you know,” he points at you before crossing his arms over his chest, ”you don’t remember.”
you stop yourself from pouring milk onto the cereal, looking around the apartment you know really well, “i do remember things.”
your voice was small, as if you didn’t want him to hear you but he does, going around the table and standing by your side. “oh,” he bends down, wanting to be at your eye level, “so you do remember, don’t you?”
“i- yes- i mean, no.” a hiccup, again, making you curse under your breath. you were searching in the deepest parts of your brain for a reasonable excuse, visibly panicking when you didn’t, “i tell that to everyone, it’s nothing special!” you raised your voice, standing up quickly, trying to make some space between the two of you.
he throws his head back, closing his eyes as if your words had physically hurt him, “oh i would really hope you don’t. oh god.” stepping forwards, he closes the space between the two of you, standing close enough to touch you but he doesn't, instead he just keeps his hands on his side, itching to do something.
“so you just-. . .” he pauses, shaking his head, “i thought i was very clear about how i feel about you, and you just,” he points at you, then runs his hand through his face, taking a deep breath, “just keep playing with me,” there it was that word again, making you bite the inside of your cheek, stopping yourself from interrupting him. “you said ‘the boy i love’ and asked me to not get back with my ex —not that i wanted to, and bab- yn. . . i’m willing to wait for you, because that’s all i have been doing for the past two years, i want you even if you act like we are just friends in front of everyone, like you don’t feel the same way i do, like me talking to an ex doesn’t bother you, because i. . .”
the way that even when he was clearly upset, he tried to reassure you, made you heart skip a bit, your lungs stop working for a mili-second, your brain malfunctioned. and so, you stepped forward, your hand reaching for his and interlacing your fingers, “i love you.” he says, the three words leaving his lips like the air has left his lungs, his eyes wide and shining.
“you know. . . i,” you hesitate, squeezing his hand softly, while staring at your interlaced fingers, “if i say it,” you voice is barely a whisper, not because you feel nervous, it was more an overwhelmed feeling making you wonder how could you deserve such a good boy, “it would be the first time, i, say those three words to someone who doesn’t look like park jinyoung.”
a laugh escapes your lips, shaking your head as you turn to face him, wanting to look him in the eye before saying the rest of the things that were on your mind. when you look at him, you aren’t able to stop the smile threatening to appear on your lips, his eyes wide and sparkling while he stares at you as if you hold the stars, his cheeks adorned with a light pink flush, and a big smile, the biggest you have seen on him.
his other hand goes to your face, softly brushing your cheek, “mark,” he hums in response, “i’m so sorry,” that makes him take his hand away, thinking that maybe he got everything wrong but you squeeze his hand again, bringing it to your eye level. “that it took me so long to finally say it and i will make it up to you because i love you.”
it takes him a second to react, giggling, covering his face with his hand as he turns his face away, and then he doesn’t wait anymore, his mouth coming down on yours, fast and soft.
his kiss tasted like mint toothpaste, and even when his lips were moving softly, it was strong as if he was trying to show you how much he yearned for you, wanting nothing more than to memorise every movement of your lips.
you pull away before the kiss could get more intense, his lips following after yours with a pout on them, whining, “bab-”
interrupting him, you bop his nose, “baby,” you say, making him open his eyes while you guide him to the table, “you made breakfast, let’s-. . . ”
as you were taking a seat where you were previously sitting, he quickly rushes to the other side and drags the chair to sit next to you, “you wanted cereal.” he talks with a frown on his face, taking one toast and bringing it to his lips, “also. . . your kissing skills are terrible,” he takes a small bite while you gasp at his words, “my lips hurts”.
putting the spoonful of cereal down, you squint your eyes at him, “didn’t you wante-. . .”
he turns to look at you, not letting you finish talking as he quickly says, “need to practice more,” and kisses you. fast. his hand going to your neck and holding you firmly, not wanting you to pull away this time.
you kiss him back, of course, you do. letting him take your breath away as his tongue enters your mouth. you bring your hands up to cup his face the moment you feel him pull you closer by the small of your back, feeling him moaning into the kiss.
it doesn’t take him long before his hands are pulling you onto his lap, his mouth leaving yours for a second, “do you want to stop?” he asks, slightly out of breath, lips swollen, pupils blown.
synopsis mark spent six months ranting to his best friend about his ex, never noticing she was in love with him the whole time. When he finally moves on and admits he likes her, it feels like the moment she’s been waiting for—yet all the nights of pain and unspoken feelings make it hard for her to accept so easily.
genre — mild angst, fluff, bestfriends to lovers, smut
pairing — idol/bestfriend!mark lee x non-idol! f.reader
warning — swearing, slight angst (if u squint), mentions of alcohol, mark is insufferable, smut, dom!mark, p in v, no protection, pussy eating
note — ayeee part 2 is here, i put my blood sweat tears in this, i tried to put more angst but like who could reject mark...?
playlist — pour up by dean, temperature by psychic fever, love by dean (ft syd), baby dont like it by nct 127, house of cards by bts, aftertaste by anderson paak and dean, heaven by red velvet - irene&seulgi
₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚
mark had been leaning lazily against the kitchen counter, phone in hand while half-listening to whatever story chenle was loudly telling from the couch. but the second his eyes met yours, the entire room seemed to blur out around him. his posture straightened slightly. you looked tired, visible dark circles around your eyes. signs of no sleep, only because of him.
not the usual “i stayed up too late” kind of tired. the kind that sat behind your eyes and dragged your shoulders down no matter how hard you tried to hide it behind that small smile and somehow, that was the first thing he noticed.
not your clothes.
not your messy hair.
not the fact that you looked like you’d rushed over without thinking twice...
just you
your presence relieves him to ease
his expression softened almost instantly.
“hey,” mark says quietly, voice gentler compared to the chaos around him, you suddenly become hyperaware of yourself under his gaze. the oversized hoodie you threw on in five seconds. the lack of makeup. the exhaustion practically written across your face, and meanwhile he looked unfairly good without even trying, so annoying
your fingers tightened around the strap of your bag as you forced out an awkward laugh. “sorry, i look kinda horrible right now..." the second the words leave your mouth, mark’s brows pull together “what?” he says immediately, almost offended by the statement itself, haechan snorts from somewhere behind you. “oh brother, here he goes.”
mark ignores him completely, eyes still fixed on you,“you don’t look horrible." the sincerity in his voice makes your stomach twist unexpectedly. “you look tired,” he corrects softly. “there’s a difference, exams must've drained you out... right?"
for a moment, nobody says anything, then chenle groans dramatically from the couch. “god, this is actually painful to watch..." “shut up,” mark mutters without even looking away from you, earning loud gasps from the room, and somehow, despite the exhaustion weighing you all day, the tightness in your chest eases just a little.
you nodded at him, with a slight smile, looking down, getting used to the chaos, "how have you been..?" you said, exhaling.
not how have promotions been.
not how’s the solo stuff going.
just him.
mark’s smile falters slightly, only for a second but you notice it because he understood exactly what you meant. the air between you suddenly feels heavier, filled with all the things neither of you had properly talked about since that happened. the distance. the silence. the awkward drifting apart neither of you seemed to know how to fix.
mark exhales quietly, glancing down before nodding once. “i’ve been…” he pauses, lips pressing together briefly. “busy, i guess.”you give a small nod, though both of you know that wasn’t really an answer, haechan, surprisingly, notices the shift immediately.
his playful expression softens as he exchanges a quick look with chenle before loudly clapping his hands together. “anyway!,” he announces dramatically, standing up from the couch. “chenle, help me order food, let's go, let's go!"
“why do i have to help”
“because i said so.”
“that’s literally dictatorship"
their bickering grows distant as they drag the others toward the kitchen, leaving you and mark standing awkwardly near the hallway, the silence that follows isn’t uncomfortable, it's just careful. careful of how things are going to turn out.
mark finally looks back at you fully, eyes softer now, “how about you?” he asks quietly. “you disappeared for a while.." your throat tightens a little at that, because disappearing sounded a lot nicer than admitting you just didn’t know how to be around him anymore after the sudden distance between you.
you hesitate for a moment before finally forcing the words out, “…could we talk somewhere quiet?” your voice is soft, nearly drowned out by the music blasting in every corner of the house but mark hears every syllable clearly and then you look at him.
really look at him.
there’s something in your expression that makes his stomach twist painfully tight, nervousness or exhaustion, maybe even hurt and suddenly all he can think about is how easily he’d give you anything if you just asked.
his jaw tightens slightly before he nods. “yeah,” he says immediately, quieter now. “of course.” he doesn’t even hesitate, mark gestures for you to follow him, slipping past the chaos of the living room while the others are too distracted arguing over food to notice much. though as you pass by, haechan definitely notices the tension between you two, his eyes narrow towards you two suspiciously, a smear smirk appears, maybe tonight. he'll forget about rina.
the stairs creak softly beneath your footsteps as you follow mark upstairs, farther away from the noise, the laughter, the bright lights downstairs. the air feels different up here, calmer. heavier, more dangerous somehow.
mark leads you toward the small balcony connected to the hallway, sliding the glass door open carefully before stepping aside for you first, cold night air immediately brushes against your skin, goosebumps rise.
for a second, neither of you speak.
mark leans lightly against the railing beside you, hands shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants as he watches you carefully from the corner of his eye, he hesitantly speaks, "so, what’s up..? kinda scaring me there hah.." his awful attempt at lightening the mood, attempting a small smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes and somehow, that only makes this harder.
“that day…”
the second those words leave your mouth, mark’s posture changes instantly, subtly but you noticed it. his shoulders straighten, fingers curling tighter against the railing beside him while his gaze drifts away from yours toward the city lights in the distance.
you swallow nervously, staring down at your shoes instead, “i wasn’t in the right mind,” you continue carefully, voice quieter now. “i mentioned her and…i messed things up between us, right?” the memory still made your stomach twist unpleasantly.
you risk a glance at him for barely a second before looking away again, “i’m sorry,” you murmur. “i crossed the line.”your fingers fidget anxiously with the sleeve covering your hands.
“…but a part of that wasn’t a mistake.”
silence.
cold air brushes past the balcony, but it suddenly feels hard to breathe, mark slowly turns his head toward you. his brows are furrowed deeply now. no, he wasn't angry, which would be more understandable and easier instead, he looks frustrated. conflicted.
his jaw clenches slightly as he watches you stand there apologizing to him like you’d committed some unforgivable crime, it irritates him instantly because why would you apologize to him like this? why were you looking at the floor like you were waiting for him to confirm your worst fears? mark exhales sharply through his nose before speaking.
“stop doing that.”
your head lifts slightly. “what?”
“acting like everything was your fault.”
his voice is low now, controlled, but there’s clear irritation underneath it, he pushes himself off the railing, taking a step closer. “yeah, mentioning her hurt,” he admits honestly, eyes fixed on you. “but you know what pissed me off more?”you blink up at him quietly.
“the fact, you're not wrong.
his expression tightens, and he leans back against the railing once more, fingers rubbing tiredly over his jaw as if admitting this out loud physically exhausted him.
“it’s me,” he says with a bitter laugh. “i’m the stuck-up idiot who couldn’t move on from my ex.” his words come slower now. more honest “and i tormented you because of it.” your brows pull together immediately. “mark—”, “no,” he cuts in softly, shaking his head. “let me say it.”
the city lights reflect faintly in his eyes as he looks away again, visibly frustrated with himself “i kept comparing everything to the past without realizing it.” he swallows harshly. “and you were the one who had to deal with that version of me.” the guilt in his voice makes your chest ache
“those things you said to me that night…” he pauses. “they pissed me off because they were true" you stared at him silently. “i hated hearing it,” he admits. “but after you left, i kept thinking about it over and over again.”
the wind blows softly through his hair, but neither of you move. mark finally looks at you again then, expression calmer now. vulnerable in a way you rarely ever saw from him, “you know what the worst part is?” he asks quietly.
your throat tightens. “what?”
his gaze lingers on you for a second too long before he answers. “i didn’t even realize how important you are to me until you stopped being around.
your eyes widened after those words left mark's mouth, and you let out an exhale, throat dry as a desert. "i don't understand what you're trying to say ..." you narrow your eyes at him. mark musters up courage, to look you in the eyes, seeing the reflection in your eyes of himself, made him realize what he was about to do was pretty shameless. he hesitantly speaks, "y/n, i like you."
your throat tightening, realizing the weight of his words. they relentlessly repeat in your head as mark waves his hand in front of your eyes, "y/n? are you uncomfortable? i'm truly sorry. i- uh, this wasn't supposed to happen—" you cut him off, "no! mark, what? what are you saying...?" you frowned at him, feeling this strange emotion between the line of happiness and unfairness.
mark's expression falls immediately at the confusion on your face, his hand drops back to his side awkwardly, trying to figure out if he ruined everything in the span of ten seconds.
"I—, uh let's forget this happened.." he exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair, frustration bleeding into his voice now. you let out an emotionless laugh, more like a huff. Your brows are furrowed tightly as you stare him, emotions visibly fighting behind your eyes.
"you're so unfair. you're so selfish mark. you know, every time you would start talking about rina, how'd I feel? i would feel like shit, like every word of yours would feel like stepping on shreds of broken glass.
your throat tightens painfully, and silence crashes between you. mark can’t even interrupt because deep down, he knows you’re right. you finally look back at him, eyes glossy under the balcony lights. “for the longest time,” you admit quietly, “i thought these feelings of mine were completely one-sided.”
the confession knocks the breath out of him. his lips part slightly, but nothing comes out because while you were sitting alone convincing yourself you never stood a chance, he was too busy being stuck in the past to even recognize what was right in front of him.
“y/n…” his voice comes out rougher than before. you immediately wipe at your face in frustration, embarrassed by the tears threatening to form. mark’s chest aches so sharply it almost feels unbearable. you laugh weakly at yourself, shaking your head.
“this makes me even more pathetic.”
“don’t,” he says immediately.
his voice is firm this time, he steps closer before stopping himself halfway, like he’s scared touching you right now would only make things worse. his eyes are locked onto yours now, filled with guilt and something heavier.
before you can step away again, mark’s hands gently grip your sides, careful but desperate at the same time. the sudden closeness makes your breath hitch. his eyes search yours frantically, and seeing you like this hurt because of him, crying because of him feels like something physically crushing down on his chest.
“y/n, i’m sorry…”
his voice breaks completely, and your expression falters instantly because mark rarely cries. but now tears are slipping down his face faster than he can stop them, his grip on you tightening slightly like he’s terrified you’ll disappear if he loosens it even a little “i know,” he chokes out shakily. “i know i was selfish.”
he laughs bitterly through the tears, shaking his head at himself.
“i’m such a goddamn fucking loser.”
“mark—”
“but i don’t wanna lose you,” he says quickly, voice cracking again. “please.”
the desperation in his voice hurts more than it should and then, almost cruelly timed, faint music drifts up from downstairs — some sad love song. you stare at him for a second before a hollow laugh escapes your lips at the sheer irony of it all
mark lets out a watery laugh too, forehead dropping briefly against your shoulder as if the emotional weight of the night is finally catching up to him. “perfect timing,” you mutter weakly.
A shaky laugh leaves him despite everything and somehow that tiny sound seems to break you even more. he pulls back just enough to look at you again, eyes red, cheeks damp.
“i know i don’t deserve this,” he says quietly. “i know i probably confused you and hurt you more than anyone should.” his thumb brushes lightly against your sleeve near your waist, hesitant. “but if there’s even a small chance…” he swallows hard. “i wanna do this properly.”
you stare at him silently.
the cold night air, the distant music, the city lights below everything suddenly feels strangely blurry compared to the way he’s looking at you right now, like you’re the only thing he can focus on.
"so..?" you sniff, wiping the residue tears under your eyes as you let out a small laugh, "so when are you asking me to become your girlfriend?"
silence
mark blinks once, then twice.
"what?" he breathes out, staring at you in disbelief. "what." you laugh again, this time more real, your cheeks burn immediately under his gaze. "don't make me repeat myself twice..." suddenly embarrassed, "it's embarrassing.."
his mouth opens slightly before closing again, and the realization then hits him fully. his eyes widened so fast, it made you laugh. "oh my god." he mumbles to himself.
"uhm, okay wait– let me start thid again -" he rushes, hands trembling like he genuinely couldn't believe this is real. he wipes quickly at his face with the sleeve of his hoodie, still looking emotional and overwhelmed at once.
"uh– so, would you let me be your boyfriend..?" he looks at you with hearts in his eyes, you wanted to devour him right there and then. he nodded, way eagerly then you expected, as tears escaped your eyes.another tear slips down your cheek as you laugh softly at his reaction, overwhelmed by everything all at once
before you can say anything else, he pulls you into him suddenly, arms wrapping tightly around your waist while yours instinctively circle around his shoulders. mark laughs shakily against your hair, holding you like he’s scared this moment will disappear if he loosens his grip. and honestly, you did the same. The tension between you both, building walls between you two, is cracking apart.
mark's forehead dropping against yours, he keeps looking at you with that same disbelieving expression, like he still can’t understand how this ended with you in his arms instead of walking away from him.
then, after a moment, his ears turn faintly red “…can i kiss you?” he asks softly and somehow, after everything tonight, that shy question is what finally makes your heart completely melt.
you don't say yes.
you don't waste a single second with words because words have kept you apart for far too long. you instantly go in. how could you reject him when this exact moment is what you have been craving for months, losing sleep over, and dreaming about. you lean in, sliding your hands up his chest to grip the fabric of his hoodie, and close the gap between your lips.
mark lets out a sharp, muffled breath against your mouth, a tiny sound of pure shock, but the hesitation lasts for less than a second. The moment your lips meet his, his grip on your waist tightens, pulling you flush against him as he catches his balance. the shy, desperate boy disappears, replaced entirely by the boy who has been wanting you just as desperately.
the kiss is warm, deep, and heavy with months of unspoken longing. his lips are soft but demanding, parting slightly as he tilts his head to kiss you deeper, his thumb smoothing over the fabric of your shirt, anchoring you to him.
when you finally pull back just enough to breathe, your foreheads resting together, mark’s eyes are still closed, a breathless, dazed smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. His ears are redder than ever, but he doesn't look disbelieving anymore. he feels relieved.
mark narrows his eyes on your shirt, and he opens his mouth before closing it again. you understood what he meant as you pulled your shirt off with no hesitation. mark's eyes widened at your bold action. he was memorised at your almost bare state. his breath hitched in his throat, the words he had been trying to form dying instantly. his mind completely short-circuiting as his gaze locks onto you.
"y/n," he breathes out, his voice dropping an octave, rough and completely stripped of his usual hesitation. the crimson flush on his ears spreads down his neck, but the shy restraint from moments ago vanishes entirely, replaced by a dark, intense focus.
"you're going to drive me crazy," he murmurs, you sat there, bare-chested save for a lace bra that struggled to contain the swell of your breasts. mark's eyes widened. he looked as if he had been struck. his gaze travelled slowly, hungrily, over the curve of your waist and the pale slope of your chest. he eyefucked you with a raw, undisguised intensity that made your stomach flip.
he reached out, his hand trembling slightly. he didn't touch your skin at first; his fingers hovered just an inch away from your shoulder. then, he slid his hand around to your back. you leaned forward, granting him access. you felt the tips of his fingers fumbling with the hook of your bra. there was a sharp click, and the tension of the lace snapped.
the bra loosened, and you let it slide down your arms. You were completely bare from the waist up, your nipples peaking in the chill of the room. mark let out a low, guttural sound, a moan that started deep in his chest. he reached out and gave you a look of approval and cupped your breast, his palm warm and heavy. he squeezed, his thumb brushing over the hardened tip of your nipple.
"you are so beautiful," mark murmured.
"you're way more beautiful," you whispered.
mark lunged forward, his mouth crashing against hers. the kiss was not gentle. it was a collision of weeks of repressed desire. he tasted of mint and desperation. his tongue pushed into your mouth, seeking you with an aggressive hunger. You both exchanged saliva in a messy, wet slurry, breaths mingling in frantic gasps. mark's hand moved from your breast to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair to pull her closer, deepening the kiss until you felt lightheaded.
you let out a whimper into his mouth, your hands sliding down his chest to the waistband of his jeans. you could feel the hard ridge of his cock pressing against the soft cotton, a thick, insistent weight. you tugged at the waistband, the cotton tensing under the pressure.
"are you sure?" mark gasped, breaking the kiss for a second to breathe. you nodded almost instantly,
mark didn't argue. he pushed you back onto the sofa, his body following yours. He hovered over you, his eyes scanning your naked torso once more. he lowered his head, his lips trailing down your neck to the valley between your breasts. He licked a path of fire toward your left nipple, his tongue swirling around the areola before he took the peak into his mouth.
you arched your back, a loud moan escaping you. the sensation of his warm, wet tongue suctioning your nipple sent a jolt of electricity straight to your crotch. you felt a sudden, heavy gush of wetness between your thighs, your pussy aching for him.
"mark, please," you whimpered. mark moved lower, his hands sliding under your pants, pushing the fabric down to your ankles. he found the thin lace of your panties and ripped them to the side with a sudden, violent motion. he didn't remove them he simply pushed them aside to expose your dripping folds.
he leaned down, his face inches from your heat. he inhaled deeply, the scent of your arousal filling his nostrils. "oh my god," Mark whispered, mouth open in awe, he pressed his tongue against your clit, a sharp, direct stroke that made you scream. he began to lap at you, his tongue moving in fast, rhythmic circles. He used his fingers to spread your lips wide, exposing the pink, swollen walls of your vagina.
he pushed two fingers deep inside you, feeling the tight, hot squeeze of your muscles.
the sound of it filled the quiet room—a wet, squelching noise as his fingers slid in and out of your soaking wet walls. your hips bucked uncontrollably, your hands gripping the velvet of the sofa, your knuckles white.
"i can't... i can't take it," you gasped, your voice breaking, mark looked up at you, his lips glistening with your juices. he quickly stood up and shed his clothes, his sweatpants and boxers falling in a heap. when he stood before you, his cock was fully erect, a thick, veiny pillar of flesh that pulsed with every heartbeat. beads of clear pre-cum leaked from the tip, glistening in the dim light.
you reached out, your fingers wrapping around the shaft. he was hot, the skin stretched tight. you slid your hand up and down, feeling the ridge of his tip. mark groaned, his head snapping back.
you shifted, sliding your legs around his waist and pulling him toward you. you guided the head of his cock to your entrance, the wetness of your pussy acting as a lubricant.
you lowered yourself slowly, the thick head of his penis stretching you open. you felt a moment of resistance, a fullness that bordered on pain, before you slid down completely, taking all of him in one deep, sliding motion.
a, wet squelch echoed as your bodies connected. you let out a long, shuddering breath, your eyes fluttering shut. he filled you completely, hitting your cervix with a dull thud that made your toes curl. "baby, fuck..." Mark groaned, his voice sounding strangled. "god, you feel incredible."
he gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your skin, and began to thrust upward. the motion was slow at first, a steady grind that focused on the friction of your pelvic bones rubbing together. then, the pace quickened.
the sound of your bodies became a rhythmic percussion, lewd sounds of skin slapping on each other, the slap of his balls against the lower curve of your pelvic, the wet shlicking of his cock sliding through your cream. with every thrust, air was pushed out of your pussy, creating small, popping sounds that added to the raw intensity of the act.
"harder!," you urged, your voice a ragged whisper.
mark obeyed. he flipped you over, pinning you face-down into the pillows. he entered you from behind, his cock sliding back into you with a loud, wet plunge. the angle allowed him to go deeper, his length burying itself into you until there was no space left between you.
he hammered into you, his movements becoming frantic and erratic. the vigor of his thrusts caused his cock to slip out almost entirely, the head glancing off your outer lips before slamming back inside with a heavy thud.
the friction was intense, the heat building in both of you until it felt like you were melting together.
your breasts bounced and jiggled with every impact, your nipples rubbing against the fabric of the sofa. you could hear the sounds of your passion heavy, synchronized panting, the wet slapping of skin on skin, the way mark's breath hitched every time he hit your sweet spot.
"i'm going to... i'm almost..." mark gasped, his voice trembling.
his hand reached down, his hand finding your clit, squeezing and circling it in a deliciously slow manner. the action pushed you over the edge. you let out a whimper, body stiffening as he continued the double pleasure, your head felt light, toes curling. muffled moans escaped your mouth, as he violated your hole relentlessly.
the knot in your stomach loosening second by second, feeling insane ecstasy, your hips stiffened as you come undone, releasing your juices all over his thighs and the bed sheet, making a mess, mark rode out your orgasm, continuing the frantic thrusts which were getting sloppier by the second, chasing his own orgasm.
he delivered one final, deep thrust. he buried himself to the hilt, his cock pulsing inside you as he erupted. you felt the hot jets of his semen hitting your cervix, wave after wave of thick, warm fluid filling you up. your internal muscles clamped down on him, milking him for every last drop.
you both stayed like that for a long time, locked together, your chests heaving in unison. the only sound in the room was the rhythm of the faint music and the wet, sliding sound as mark slowly pulled out of you.
a mixture of pre-cum, saliva, and semen leaked from your opening, trailing down your thigh in a sticky, white streak. he flopped down next to you, anchoring his arm around your waist.
"i'm sorry, and i love you, y/n." mark whispered.
you laughed, a small, breathless sound. you leaned against his him, feeling the steady beat of his heart.
"i love you way more," you replied.
the heavy silence of the room returns, broken only by the sound of your shared, uneven breathing. both of you are completely tired, with chests heaving and breathing shuddered, completely consumed by the sudden rush of adrenaline and the warmth of each other's embrace.
and unknowingly, you both didn't notice, eyes peeking from the unclosed creaking door, it was haechan and chenle, peeking in, grinning ear to ear. they had their heads stacked one over the other in the tiny crack of the doorframe, witnessing the absolute chaos they had probably been rooting for weeks.
"finally, they did it!" haechan whispered, turning his head towards chenle with a triumphant grin. he adjusted his stance, leaning back slightly while keeping his voice to a low, muffled murmur. "do you think they noticed the songs I put from my go-to sex playlist?"
chenle furrowed his eyebrows, his amused grin instantly dropping into pure annoyance. he looked at him deadpan. "just shut up, dude..."
warnings: mdni, angst, bit of smut but very little detail, daddy kink, family breakdown, childhood trauma, neglect, emotional abuse and neglect, mummy issues, daddy issues, no contact, found family, softdom!127, mentions of sex and penetration, age gap, poly!127 x maknae!reader, fem reader, no use of yn, mentions of puberty
summary: poly!127 x maknae!reader recording the lost boys documentary and how they react
requested!
johnny:
• when he watches the documentary back he can’t help but cry at your episode, you talk so freely about your struggles you’ve faced since becoming an idol, and before. you talk about your bad relationship with both your parents, emotionally neglected and pressured to financially support your family with very little in return.
• you talk about how nct and 127 are the first and only real family you have known, and state that you feel guilty being so dependant on them and that you promised to grow up well and that you were only able to do that with their help.
• you tell the camera about the stigma of being the only girl in a boy group, there is not a lot of co-ed groups, especially not at the time of the documentary, you go into detail about how nct’s concept is already unconventional as a kpop group, but debuting with only one girl was tough, navigating puberty alone, with the pressure of the media and netizens
• you also talk about how the members have each saved you from quitting before, saying that your life and careers is always in debt to them, but specifically johnny and doyoung, both of them extremely emotionally intelligent and providing the emotional comfort and support you lacked in childhood, that their advice is what made you stay and decide to go all in.
• when he sees you after it airs, he’s bringing you into a long deep hug, kissing your head and face, telling you how proud he is of you, tells you that you are the most special girl in the world, couldn’t imagine his life without you. you know it’s true cause during his episode he went into great detail about how important you are not just to their lives as people but you are an integral part of what makes nct.
taeyong:
• although he’s in a relationship with you now, he still remembers how maternal he was towards you when you first debuted, so young and naive, a little broken, just wanting to succeed, wanting your family’s approval more than anything. he leads you really well, being a great mentor, and helping you with everything you need as you guide yourself through aging and puberty.
• you talk about how as you got older and your relationship with your parents got more and more fractured, you were determined to prove them wrong
• in his episode he talks about when he sees something shift in you after cutting ties with your family, a fire lights inside you, doing this solely for yourself and no one else and you are working 10 times harder, and it brought in a lot of new fans. he says that nct couldn’t be a group without you.
• the older you get the more you depend on them, being an idol means very little space or time to date, they all know you have needs and they do too, and then you all come to this arrangement all of them providing you with everything you need, in and out of the bedroom.
• taeyong loves you and promises to always protect you, he knows you call johnny and jaehyun daddy, a kink you all mutually share, but with him it’s not something you usually do, but when you’re really fucked out and in subspace, tears flowing and he’s taking care of you so good you’ll sometimes slip up and call taeyong daddy, he doesn’t bring it up, doesn’t tell you not to, he knows you have daddy issues and he doesn’t want to press too much when his dick is inside you.
• when you calm down and are shyly apologising for using that name he tells you it’s okay, tells you you can call him whatever you need whenever you need.
yuta:
• he knew about your relationship with your parents, has witnessed it first hand, but after the documentary airs oh he is their number one haters. in the ep there is a recording of a phone call you had had with your parents after your first ever win back in 2016, telling them how excited you were and hope they were happy, and as your mum speaks he can see your face drop like it did when it first happened. “that’s good, not like you cured cancer or anything though”
• yuta has always been one of your biggest supporters, in public and in private, whenever you guys are filming a mv reaction video, he’s always cooing and praising you whenever you’re on screen.
• yuta always gives you the validation you lacked as a child, anything you accomplish he is boasting about it. you didn’t finish school, never having graduated, so whenever you get a big opportunity to do something career wise, whether it be a solo or an mc gig he is always showing up or posting about it and telling fans to anticipate your promotions.
• during his episode he talks about how frequently everyone’s parents would show up to performances on tour, but your parents have never showed face, even before you had cut them off. he talks about how he saw how small and sad you looked while greeting everyone else’s family, just wishing yours cared enough to show up.
• is extremely proud of you when you finally cut them off, he felt so sad for you, 19 years old, and after a lifetime of neglect and abandonment you had finally snapped and cut all ties and went no contact, no longer sending them money. in his episode he talks about how hard it was for you, but states that he will always admire your bravery and resilience. tells the camera that he thinks you are a lot stronger than the men on your team, that none of them would be able to do this without all the support that they’ve got back home, knowing there’s families waiting for them, so doing this single handedly is something only you could conquer.
doyoung:
• his heart swells with pride as you talk about him on your episode. detailing all the times he was a key factor to you staying. he knew you loved and appreciated him, but in this setting you were able to say things that you wouldn’t be able to say to his face without breaking down in tears.
• so glad he can be such a support for you. he wants you to be unlimited in everything you want to do so is constantly encouraging you. but he also is a voice of reason, if he thinks you’re biting off more than you can chew he’s talking to you seriously and with a very level head, you’re young and have all this ambition and drive, but idol burn out is very real and very scary. he makes you see some sense and you agree to plan more instead of jumping in head first to too many projects.
• in his episode he reveals that you are also a huge part of his continued involvement, saying there was times when he wanted to quit, but you were always there to take some of the weight, carrying so much on your shoulders to ensure everyone is able to carry on. he is another one who sings your praises to the camera, saying how talented you are and you bring so much to 127.
• he talks about all the fun he has with you despite you sometimes driving him crazy with all your antics and pranks on him.
• when he’s having sex with you he’s always so sweet and soft with you, maybe not when you’ve been acting up and giving him all kinds of attitude, but for the most part he is showering you in affection and attention. he needs you to always know how much he loves and appreciates you, a huge part of his life that he couldn’t live without.
jaehyun:
• in his episode he’s talking about how much fun he has with you and how their lucky that they have you in their group. goes on and on about how funny you are and that you really are the biggest mood maker
• tells the camera that doing this job and working so tirelessly every day would be a lot harder if you weren’t there, keeping everyone in good spirits.
• when he watches your ep, you are also talking about how you manage to pull through all the stress and long nights and back to back tours, and you say it’s all down to your members, that you are a jokester and they all receive your jokes and pranks well, all your teasing and play fighting lifts the mood whenever you’re travelling for hours and hours. you say that jaehyun is your favourite to have fun with, both of you having similar humours.
• the screen plays a video that no one has seen before, just you and the members, in a hotel room laying on the bed is you jaehyun and doyoung, doyoung in his pjs with a sleep mask on his forehead and he’s on his phone obviously trying to ignore you both, you and jaehyun are whispering and laughing to each other and while recording yourselves. you suddenly move and pull doyoungs sleep mask from his forehead, pulling it back and and letting go, both you and jaehyun laughing as it slaps over his eyes. it’s clear it’s not the first time you’ve annoyed him like this as he throws his phone down and pulls you into a fake headlock, you and jaehyun both tearing up laughing as the older man gets annoyed. the video stops and you talk about how you always share great memories with the members like that
• jaehyun is laughing as he watches, remembering the hour long prank session where both of you were trying everything you could to annoy doyoung. he texts you asking if you still have the video and you send him it so he can keep.
jungwoo:
• he mentions on his episode that despite being older, he had debuted two years after you and you always showed him so much love and support, he thanks you for always being so kind to him when he first started.
• he also talks about how your energy and playfulness is what really brought him out his shell and made him the mood maker he is today.
• when he watches your episode he listens to you talk and watches you cry as you admit you don’t feel as strong or confident as you look, you are always reminding yourself that you are at a disadvantage, being so young and also being the only girl. you feel like no one in the industry takes you seriously, still sees you as the 15 year old who debuted.
• his heart breaks and he tells you that’s not true. that so many idols look to you when they need inspiration, or motivation. and he’s right, many of the new gen idols are constantly praising you and calling you their favourite idol or bias, even some of your own peers commenting on you publicly stating how incredible you are at what you do.
• jungwoo loves you so much and he tells the camera that you are the centre peice of the team, and he truly means it. when you watch it you’re getting emotional, all of you admitting feelings you’re all too shy to admit face to face.
• he takes your health very seriously and is always telling you to look after yourself and to stop worrying about himself and the members so much and to focus on yourself first before anyone else.
• fans have always loved your dynamic and after the documentary there are edits of you both flooding the fyp.
mark:
• he really can relate to being away from home, he really tries to comfort you in the beginning when you’re still in contact with your parents, but he knows your situation is different, his parents begging to have him around more often, and yours couldn’t care less about you.
• when the documentary airs and he watches your episode and you talk about growing up in ways you haven’t spoken about before, he can tell it has always effected you worse than you let on. talking about how desperate you were for their approval, just wishing they could have the emotional integrity to be good parents.
• during mark’s episode he talks about how despite always being surrounded by his teams he often feels alone, having moved around as a kid and now as an adult he felt like he never had a permanent place in the world so he can relate when you said you felt like you were helplessly reaching for someone or something that was never there and never will be.
• you continue to say that the members have filled a void in your soul, not fully replacing the hole that your family left, but filling out with something bigger and stronger. the love they all have and show for you is really your driving force behind you’re strength to keep going.
• when you next see mark after the series drops you spend a lot of time talking about your plans for the future, he asks you about if you would ever have your own children, you answer that right now, with your age and your job, you know you’re unable to give a child stability, and you refuse to repeat the same pattern, damning yourself if you let history repeat.
haechan:
• he has always made sure include you in his plans with his family, his parents are coming to visit? he’s bringing you to dinner with them, he’s going home for a few days? he’s inviting you along. you are really close with haechans family and you bring them up in your episode, expressing how grateful you are for always extending their support and love for you as well as their own son.
• haechan talks about his mum on his episode and thanks her for everything she sacrificed for him to do this, and for always accepting you as her own. he says that without his mum not only would he not be able to do this, but you wouldn’t either and you agree.
• during mother’s day or father’s day you always make sure to greet all the members parents on their day, celebrating them and thanking them for their support, but haechan can see that you still long for your own parents, wanting to reach out and have them accept you for the first time, but you never do and he commends you on your disciplined no contact.
• after the episodes air again fans are all over tiktok and twitter, recounting old memories of you and haechan travelling to his home together, or when you call his mum to celebrate any of your success, hearing her sound genuinely thrilled for you.
• he loves spending time with you weather that’s under the sheets or just on the couch drinking in your presence. he loves having you near him and you are one of his anchors
ot8:
• when the documentary is out and everyone has watched in private, everyone meets up and you talk about what was discussed through some laughs and tears.
• during sex you have called all of them daddy at least one time, always cringing and apologising whenever you calm down and are redressed, the only ones who you really have established that with long term being johnny and jaehyun, who already had a daddy kink whether you had daddy issues or not.
• all of them tell you to not be embarrassed, they don’t mind or care what you call them when you’re in that headspace.
• you tell them you’re embarrassed by the way your eyes fill with tears whenever they praise you or tell you they’re proud of you in or out the bedroom, finally getting the validation you have been chasing for a lifetime, and when they’re being so gentle and caring with you in bed, the name just slips out.
• of them all extremely understanding and none of them have or will ever judge you for it.
• you wipe your tears and sniff, trying to break the ice, laughing, telling doyoung you’re sorry for accidentally calling him mum when he was helping you with your stage outfit fussing over your short skirt ans crop top, all of them laughing with you.
► toxic dreamies, some sad scenes, jeno being a meanie per usual
►a/n pleasee enjoy. i'm not the best at writing for the other members so I'm sorry if some are better than the other. let me know if you enjoy 😜
MARK is the busiest man you know. As his girlfriend, you were perfectly aware of his failure to properly manage all his activities. To him what mattered was staying afloat. Even though your time together was limited due to his schedule, you didn’t mind waiting for him to come home at the end of the day. He had made a huge effort to carve out time from his hectic lifestyle to make space for you and this was the most you could ask for. Because of this, time with Mark is valuable. Every second spent with him is thought out with love.
Your birthday is the most overloaded season regarding Mark’s schedule. With the demand for new music, constant touring, and endless practices, you didn’t expect much for him to surprise you. All that you wished for was at least some time to be spent with your loving boyfriend. But as you sat on the couch the whole day – ignoring requests to hang out with your friends in hopes Mark would pull through, expecting him to come home with a surprise straight from practice – the time was ticking closer to midnight and he was still nowhere to be seen.
He was out of the house before he could even wish you a happy birthday. No note was left, breakfast wasn’t made, and all the chores were still left unfinished. As far as you knew, Mark hadn’t even come home from the previous night. As you sit on the sofa, envious of his bandmates who got to spend the fleeting days with him, you begin to regret waiting for you to matter enough to him. You could’ve spent the whole day catching up with friends, instead, you waited for your boyfriend who didn’t even care to send a simple “happy birthday” text.
Waiting got tiring and you only became more pissed. Just as you were about to reach your bed with your tears flowing down your face, you hear Mark enter, sounding exhausted from the day’s workload.
“Baby, I’m home,” he called across the apartment, only loud enough to hear from the room you were in.
A sliver of you still had hope that he would surprise you with some form of greeting, but as his footsteps clicked closer to your shared bedroom and he had nothing in hand, all the hope had left your body.
He sighed as he approached your tired figure, “Falling asleep already?”
It was obvious he didn’t even remember what was so special about today. A part of you wanted to slice at his throat for forgetting such an important date. Instead, you opted for peace, already feeling more tears threatened to spill.
“Yeah, had a long day.” you uttered, trying not to sound heartbroken. You couldn’t gain the courage to confront Mark. All you could do was tuck yourself under the covers and cry yourself to sleep while your loved one went about clueless.
RENJUN wasn’t one to open up to others about his feelings. You were the only one that he felt was worthy of sharing his deepest thoughts with. One of his being the fact he always felt distant from his friends. When he moved away from home he had broken a lot of his relationships and had difficulty rebuilding them. When Renjun told you he would be going out this weekend with his friends, you didn’t think much of it – other than the fact it was your birthday.
You knew not to become too hopeful when it came to surprises. You weren’t a little kid and you were aware that you’ll most likely get what you want by just asking. Although you knew this, you still thought that Renjun might possibly surprise you. However, you should’ve known better.
When Renjun arrived home with nothing in his hands but shopping bags and a filled stomach, you knew he had forgotten a date that was so important to you. “Renjun, how was it?” you asked him excitedly, to the best of your abilities.
He smiled as he walked over to your spot on the couch, setting down his bags beside you on the coffee table. “We had a lot of fun. Had to catch up on lots though, who would’ve known how much my boys have grown.”
You knew it was wrong to ruin his joy, but you had to get straight to the point. “Did you get anything while you were there?” You didn’t acknowledge his rambling about his friends, instead wanted to know if the bags held something for you to make up for his actions.
“Yeah, just some new clothes for the summer. They said they wanted to match-”
Before he could even finish his sentence you walked yourself to your room. Getting mad at him would only make matters worse so you did what your best at and removed yourself from the situation.
“Where are you going?” he asked as he tried to see what you were doing.
You continued to change and gather your belongings, clear what your intentions were. “Going out. Not wasting my special day waiting for you.” Before he could even process your words, you slammed the door in his face. Renjun knew he fucked up.
JENO is your homebody boyfriend – he loves spending time with you and cozying up in bed. It is rare he got to do so, though, as a lot of hours are filled with his idol lifestyle. He was expected to stay on top of his numerous schedules and manage time with his girlfriend. This is a lot of responsibility for a man like Jeno.
You quite honestly didn’t expect much from him considering how busy he would be on your birthday. The date happened to fall on a Saturday when they were holding a concert. You were aware he would be extremely tired and might even not have time to hang out with you afterward. The least you expected with for him to send you a birthday greeting but you had received nothing and the concert had already begun.
Being the loving girlfriend you were, you had arrived at the concert to support your boyfriend. When the other boys saw you they even made the effort to wish you a happy birthday. All of them but your own boyfriend, the reason you were even hear right now.
The stadium was filled to the brim with adolescent teens to elderly couples. This was most definitely not your scene but you wanted to spend your birthday with the one you loved. You had brought your friends along as they also wanted to hang out. Even though you had so many people around you celebrating your life, you couldn’t help but feel worthless for not meaning anything to the one you loved most.
When the concert ended you had excused yourself from your friends for the night to meet up with Jeno. Pushing yourself backstage was a difficult task after trying to scooch past all the fans and security. As soon as you had managed to locate Jeno backstage, you were told to wait outside by his managers, Jeno making no effort to halt their actions.
You waited hours for him to finally exit the dressing room but to no avail, he never came out.
“Y/n, what are you doing out here?” Jaemin saw you sitting on the bench you had positioned yourself on for the time being.
It was silly he was asking such a question, he had to of known why you were here in the first place. “Just waiting for Jeno. Is he almost done?”
Jaemin had a shift of energy as if something had clicked in his mind upon your words. “He left a while out the back. I can go find him, he probably is still in here. I’m sorry he didn’t come to see you he probably forgot.”
“It’s okay, don’t worry about it Nana. Thanks for telling me.” You quickly gathered your belongings before he could even have a chance to comfort you. There was a time and a place for everything and crying in front of him on your birthday was definitely not something you had wished for.
You refused to wait for Jeno any longer, he obviously never did the same for you. As you left the stadium all your emotions exited your body. How could someone you love break your heart so terribly?
HAECHAN is a family man at heart. He never failed to mention his siblings in a conversation and made sure to keep up with them when time allowed. This was something that drew you towards your boyfriend. Seeing his love for domesticity made you feel like you had found the man who would lead you in the future.
Funny enough, you had managed to be birthed the same day as his sister he loved so dearly. Obviously, it wasn't a coincidence that he would constantly mention his sister’s birthday and what he was planning on gifting her. What you did begin to question was his lack of mention of your own special date.
It wasn’t uncommon for couples to not do much on each other’s birthdays, but your relationship was Haechan was not typical dating. He cared for you deeply, at least to the extent you thought. Each date was carved to cater to your liking and surprise you each time. You knew your birthday would be an even more special day for him which is why you weren’t surprised when you came home on the date with party streamers covering the house and an entourage of his family.
“Baby your home,” Haechan noticed your entrance and shocked face.
You smiled as you embraced him into a tight hug, “Thanks for doing this all for me. I love you.”
He laughed at your response, slight confusing you. “It’s my sister’s birthday, you know how much these days mean to us.”
Even though you were confused by Haechan's response, you did know you were happy he didn’t let you down in the end. He never wished you a happy birthday but you were sure a surprise party would make up for it.
As the party ensued and time for cake came, the lights were turned off and Haechan appeared out of the corridor with the candle lit sweet. You were standing next to his sister as you were greeting her a happy birthday. As he approached you with the cake you couldn’t help but notice your name was spelt wrong on the cake. Oh wait. It wasn’t even your name at all. He had never even remembered your birthday to begin with.
JAEMIN had mentioned your birthday to you on numerous occasions. He loved planning time with you and never failed to make sure each date was tailored to your liking. When he had asked you where you had wanted to dine in on your birthday, you weren’t surprised in the slightest by his actions to make sure the day was perfect for you. He had even made sure to pick an outfit for you to match and he already knew what gifts you wanted without asking.
As the days ticked down to the date, Jaemin didn’t seem to get any more excited. Typically, he would be all over you explaining the details of how excited he was to spend time with his loving girlfriend. When the day finally turned to be your birthday, you noticed he still was not making an effort to mention your planned date.
“Good morning my love,” Jaemin had greeted as soon as your eyes fluttered awake.
You smiled, awaiting the day ahead of you, “What have you got on your mind today?” You knew Jaemin would have the whole day planned and wouldn’t be able to contain his joy.
“Just happy I get to spend time at home with my love this morning. I got to go to practice later, though,” he replied as he pulled you closer under the covers.
You knew Jaemin had mentioned going out so you were surprised by his words. Jaemin wasn’t the type to cancel all your plans for work, he was adamant about making time for you. The last thing you had expected was for him to postpone your birthday for something so small.
“Can’t you just miss practice today?” You questioned slightly agitated. As much as you know work is important to him, it felt right to at least be somewhat selfish of your time with him.
“No can do. You know these are a non-negotiable.”
You could tell he was taken aback by your response. He had just wanted to make the most of his day with you before he had gone to practice, and who were you to avoid wishes. You could accept his business for at least an effort to make time for you.
As you spent the fleeting moments with Jaemin, you couldn’t help but notice nothing about your day was going as planned. No presents were awaiting you at the table, not a single of your favorite meals was dished up by your favorite chef, and no greeting was uttered out of his mouth.
The day had continued on as normal until he left for practice. Maybe he would bring you the gifts and dinner when he got back? Much to your dismay, he arrived home in the same state he was in before, just much more tired.
As he tucked himself into bed next to you, you couldn’t help but feel the need to ask him about the change in his attitude. But before you could even question him, he gave you the answer you were searching for. “I feel like I forgot about something today.”
Damn right, you had forgotten something Na Jaemin.
CHENLE was never one to back down from an argument. He always made sure he was right even if it meant hurting others along the way, including his own girlfriend. Because of his ungodly ego, you two got into numerous fights. It was a red flag but he always managed to earn your forgiveness. His love language was gift giving and he never failed to surprise you with the most extravagant items.
Most of your fights would end within a few hours, but this was different. You two had been arguing about his lack of care regarding setting aside time for you. He was busy, but so was everyone else in the world – he is perfectly capable of putting in the extra effort yet he lacks to do so.
With your birthday on the rise, you had expected him to forgive you relatively quickly. Instead, you two had still not spoken a word since the day of your fight into your birthday. You were aware Chenle was stubborn, but you couldn’t believe he was this difficult.
You should’ve taken the warning from others about your toxic habits. Even though time was running out you still felt like Chenle would end up pulling through. He always refused to bite the bullet and message you first, so this time you wanted to see how long it would take him to come crawling back. When it took multiple days, you knew he wouldn’t be speaking to you anytime soon.
Y/n: what the fuck is your problem
Y/n: do you even know what today is?
Chenle: was waiting for you to finally apologize
Chenle: what’s so special about today
Y/n: it’s my birthday
You couldn’t believe that Chenle would be so adamant about his stance he would even forget your own birthday. When you saw the bubbles appear indicating him typing his response, you didn’t pay any mind to it. Protecting your peace, you powered off your phone and chose silence to celebrate the remaining of your day.
When you heard a knock on your door no longer than 30 minutes after texting Chenle, you knew it had to be him. But you had no room left in you to listen to his excuses. If he wanted to prove himself, he should’ve done so before.
JISUNG was never the type to put his best friend over you. He always ensured you were his number one priority and his numerous date nights made you guarantee this. His best friend since childhood happened to be extremely possessive of him. Her intentions were clear, but your boyfriend was always too oblivious to notice.
There were multiple occasions where she had uttered the most absurd comments to your face. Time and time again, Jisung had never stood up for you. You should have taken this as a red flag but you knew your boyfriend loved you dearly – who were you to let a random girl get in your way?
Your birthday was around the corner and Jisung had not yet mentioned any plans regarding the day. He had mentioned a couple of things in the past but nothing that stuck out recently. When the day of your birthday arrived, the atmosphere remained the same.
You had mentioned to him you were going to spend the day out with your friends and he didn’t question it. Before you could leave the house, he was already out for the day, not giving you a chance to even greet him good morning. It was odd for him to be out so early but you knew better than to think so deeply into it.
When you arrived home you had noticed another car in the driveway – his best friend’s car. You were never one to be selfish but spending time with her on your birthday was the last thing you would ever wish for.
You had still not received any messages from Jisung and you were starting to grow more concerned. Before you could enter your shared apartment, you were immediately greeted by the girl you wished to avoid.
“About time you showed up,” she eyed you head to toe, shutting the door behind you.
Her attitude never failed to surprise you. Nevertheless, you still played into her tricks, “I’m just getting back from the mall. You know, celebrating my birthday.”
She laughed at your comment, “Oh, poor Jisung must have forgotten. He hasn’t mentioned you all day.” She didn’t even offer any explanation as she pushed past you to exit the building, smirking on her way out.
You were aware she was a snarky bitch but you couldn’t believe she had the courage to make up such a lie. A part of you wanted to push past the door and confront your boyfriend and the other wanted to go after her like she was your prey.
Even though anger fumed your vision, you couldn’t confront Jisung in such a way. Instead, you left and opted to spend a girl's night out. Little did you know Jisung was waiting on the other side of the door with your cake in hand.
the door clicked shut softly behind you as you waited for the hallway lights to flicker above you automatically. it only took you 5 seconds of standing in darkness and silence to realise the bulb needed a change.
great. just great. you looked down at your feet, barely making out the silhouette of your heels that were a size too small and the discolouration around your toes where your heels suffocated the skin, much like how life felt right now.
you bit your bottom lip to hold back a sob as a lump formed in your throat and squeezed at your chest, the pressure begging to be released. before you knew it, the dam of your lashline was broken and tears streamed down like falling ribbons.
you dropped your purse to the floor and stood rooted on the spot, heels still digging painfully into your feet as you buried your face in your palms as if anyone could see you through the darkness of midnight, letting the tears collect in your palms like a well as you tried to muffle your sobs, painfully aware that your lover was likely fast asleep in your shared bedroom.
"baby, you're home."
a voice croaked from the living room couch as your head snapped up at the voice. against the moonlight was the silhouette of the person you needed the most.
"mark."
the tremor in your voice propelled him off the coach and in an instant, he was by your side, squinting through the darkness and the sleep still in his eyes as he cupped your cheeks in his warm hands. you were just, so tired.
"what's wrong, baby?"
you sniffled, resting your heavy mind in his warm hands, "tired."
he nodded knowingly, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. he squatted down to help you out of your heels, his thumb gently massaging each foot as he removed them from their heel, instantly relieving the soreness. standing back up, he took your hand and pulled you into his embrace, holding you in his firm and protective grasp as he swayed back and forth in a graceful rhythm with you resting against his shoulder.
"why were you on the couch?"
you mumbled into the air.
"I was waiting for you, love. it was getting late and you didn't reply to my texts." mark placed a soft kiss on the top of your head.
"sorry, must've been busy out of my mind." you gave a half-hearted chuckle as your hand came up to wipe away a few stray tears.
"it's alright darling. you're home now. everything will be okay."
and even though you knew tomorrow would be another day of hell, another day of unreasonable bosses and standing in suffocating heels, in that moment, you believed him. because you were with mark. because home somehow made the cruelties of life seem a little more okay.
you fell into a dreamless sleep that night, with your head rested on mark's chest and his heartbeat lulling you to sleep.
a/n: written on impulse so no word count and not edited! inspired by some recent experiences that made me tired of life and wish I had a mark to tide me through but I'm feeling better now <3
“you picture your emotions through words, while I try to voice out my own feelings with photos”
PAIRING: college student!jaemin x college student!reader (female!reader) x college student!mark
GENRE: fluff, angst, strangers to friends to lovers au, lovers to exes au, college au, 90s au, love triangle au, best friend!jisung, best friend!yeri, suggestive (if you squint)
WARNINGS: mentions of food, reader is shorter than both jaemin and mark, pet names, explicit language, lots of miscommunication, pretentious dialogues (sorry), ambiguous ending
WC: 32,6k
‣[PLAYLIST]: margaret by lana del rey (ft. bleachers), frozen by sabrina claudio, bonfire by wave to earth, yosemite by lana del rey, blue by troye sivan (ft. alex hope), naked by sabrina claudio, let the light in by lana del rey (ft. father john misty)
SUMMARY: winter to spring to fall — seasons change all the time, and life takes turns you never saw coming. as you’re trying to figure out your true love in your career path, you’re also trapped between the hearts of two boys who try to teach you how to find your real colors, by teaching you how to love.
A/N: took me too long to post this but it's finally here! my longest baby so far, please show it the love it needs <3
read on wattpad/ao3
Thursday, October 9th, 1997
Τhere is a fine line between love and passion. It is easy to confuse one for the other, and sometimes the boundaries become so blurry that love merges into passion and passion merges into love. Passion is a state of being — it resembles a phase of complete ecstasy that you wish would last forever. It fills you with a sudden burst of happiness that is so strong, it needs to become temporary, otherwise its effect weakens.
Love is more of a state of living — it draws you in, it roams around you like the strong scent of cologne, it captivates you in an invisible way, almost as if it does not exist and no matter what your state of mind or being is, it will always find you in the form of solace. This is exactly what gives it longevity in its effect.
You tried to keep a mental note of these thoughts for the time being until you could write them down, before you completely forgot about them and they ceased to exist.
You were standing outside your favorite café in Seoul, patting your hair and brushing your fingers through thick strands to untangle them. Fall was your favorite season when you could hear the crunchy sound of leaves under your shoes or the patter of raindrops on your umbrella, but one thing you were certainly sure of was that you were not particularly very fond of the wind.
With a firm push on the door, you stepped inside the place you liked to call your second home and, almost in a cartoon-like way, you rushed towards the front counter, drawn in by the magical, mythical, delicious scent of caramel.
The boy behind the counter was busy placing pastries in a paper box and didn’t immediately notice your presence, even though you thought that he could sense how much you were craving that cup of hot caramel latte you were dreaming about all morning.
“Jisung,” you raised your voice as you spoke, and the boy jolted up in the air at the sound of somebody calling his name. You liked to mess with him in this way because of his sensitivity towards abrupt loud noises. You didn’t want to, but it always spread your lips into a smiley smirk when he would jump around and drop whatever he was holding. Exactly what happened right now.
“Oh my God, Y/n,” he said breathlessly, pressing one hand on his chest to calm his heartbeat. You let out a soft giggle at his reaction and he narrowed his eyes at you. “I just like to tease you, Ji,” you said as he bent down to pick up the box and the now dirty pastries. He threw away the pastries in a trash can under the counter and placed the box aside in the counter behind him. He rolled his shoulders backwards as he came towards the cash register and swayed his head left and right to move his bangs out of his face. “Alright, alright,” he whispered to himself and he cleared his throat, straightening his back even further. He flashed a wide smile towards you and spoke in a voice that seemed loud to him, but to your ears it still sounded like his usual velvety soft tone. “Welcome to ‘'Caramel Craze’, what can I get you?”
“Just my regular, Ji,” you said and he kept a note of your order on a small scratch pad, even though he knew your order by heart. “I’ll go sit down at our table, you can come join me when your shift ends. Also, just so you know, Yerim is coming too so be more alert. You know I go easy on you with the jumpscares but she doesn’t,” you said and he laughed at the mention of your friend Yerim, who liked to tease him just a little bit more.
“Okay, you go sit and I’ll be back with your order,” Jisung said and you stretched your arm to ruffle his hair playfully.
You always sat at the table furthest back in the shop right next to the wall-length window. Whatever the season, you enjoyed the access to viewing the outside world through the perspective of the glass that separated you from the people on the other side of it. Today, the atmosphere was covered by dark clouds of gloom that seemed harmless, with no intention of rain. You hadn’t realized how angry the wind was until you looked at the way the branches of the trees moved back and forth to the wind’s direction and the people struggling to walk through the windy force. Behind the glass window, it was peaceful and quiet.
You sat down at your and your friends’ designated table and took out your sketchbook and pencils. Looking around the small coffee shop, you noticed a girl standing, waiting in line to order her drink and possibly a little sweet treat to go along with it. She was wearing a long plaid skirt, falling down to her ankles, paired with a short jean jacket that ended right at the start of her waist. What if she added a leather corset? The length of the skirt kinda throws me off. Maybe a shorter skirt, chunkier shoes, different texture on the jacket-
You picked up your pencil and quickly drew lines that resembled a female human figure. Eyes darting from the girl to your sketchbook, back at the girl and your sketchbook again, you started gaining inspiration for new clothing designs. That’s why you decided to study fashion design; the possibilities of mixing and matching colors, patterns and textures were endless, and your creative mind couldn’t help but be fascinated by the art of fashion.
You were drawing quick rough sketches of clothes, making small changes here and there, trying to find a new, innovative, interesting design to present in class. For the last couple weeks, you were completely stuck and couldn’t create anything. The scholarship abroad wouldn’t be yours if you presented some boring, mediocre stuff.
Lately, you found yourself deprived of inspiration. You couldn’t pinpoint the exact reason why this was the case, but anytime you picked up your pencil to draw new patterns of clothes, your hand automatically moved away from your sketchbook and gravitated towards the pocket-sized notebook you kept on the side of your desk, and all you could do with your pencil was to write words.
the flowers inside my mind wither and fall;
dark fog covers the sky that hangs above my consciousness
i hate to see you wilt —
perhaps a new seed will grow on the ground
and replace the void with color
regeneration mirrors the art of becoming again
Setting your sketchbook and pencil on the side, you moved to take out the small notebook from the front pocket of your bag, flipping the pages to find a blank one and quickly writing down the words that came to your mind at that moment. This is what you always did when you felt stuck. You could never voice the thoughts occupying your mind, so you wrote them down instead. It was always easier to put them in place this way.
A loud bang resonated in the small café and you jolted up in surprise, dropping your pencil on the table. This is probably how Jisung feels, I get it now. You lifted your head to see your friend Yerim setting her bag and extra books on the table as she sat down on the chair across from yours.
“You scared me, Yerimie,” you said in a shaky voice and her lips lifted up to a smirk. “And I thought Jisung was the fun one to tease,” she said.
You scoffed at her comment and dismissed it. Yerim’s eyes dropped to the sketchbook and pencils scattered everywhere around the table, peeking at your trembling designs and the black smudges all over the pages that covered the designs you didn’t like.
“Still on designer’s block?” Yerim asked and you shook your head lightly. “I actually made some progress today,” you smiled, “I might have some ideas about what to make. These are pretty much the very first draft of it. If you can call it a draft,” you said pointing at your sketchbook.
Yerim hummed in understanding, but her eyes betrayed her true thoughts. Doubt? Hope? Simply processing what you said? You couldn't tell.
“Hey, listen, I have an extra class right now so I won’t stay, wanna meet me later in the library? I know you prefer studying here but I just came to pick up my coffee,” Yerim said. As if they communicated telepathically, Jisung approached your table holding two plastic cups with your beloved coffee shop’s logo on them. The intensely sweet scent of caramel betrayed what the liquid inside the cups was and you felt dizzy even at the thought of finally tasting the drink you were so desperately craving.
“Here you are, girls,” it felt almost as if Jisung mouthed the words by how softly he spoke. With shaky hands, he placed the cups on the table and smiled at himself for successfully bringing them all the way there without dropping them and spilling the hot coffee all over the shop’s floor.
“Are you coming too, Ji? To the library,” Yerim turned to him and Jisung nodded eagerly. “Of course! I’ll be there after my shift ends. Sorry Y/n, I can’t stay at the café all day, it's getting boring and it reminds me of work,” Jisung apologized to you and frowned.
“Don’t worry, guys, I’ll join you. Besides, apparently I also need to find this book for my project. You can go and I’ll meet you there later,” you said and you were going to keep your promise.
Yerim grabbed her things and leaned over the table to give you a hug. She winked at you and waved at both you and Jisung on her way out the coffee shop. Jisung smiled and shook his head at Yerim’s sassy attitude and you couldn’t help but smile too at how adorable he was.
“You’d better get back to work Ji, or else someone out there is gonna rob all the money you keep in the cash register,” you reminded him and his posture stiffened, smile dropping and eyes widening when he remembered that his shift, in fact, hadn’t ended yet.
“Oh, you’re right. But wait,” he said, putting his hand inside the pocket of his apron, only to take out a soft caramel cookie wrapped in sealed plastic packaging. He slid it into your hand under the table and offered you a shy smile. “It’s on the house. You need some energy,” he said softly as he walked away towards the back of the café.
You looked at the cookie and quickly put it inside your bag. You were sitting alone once again, blocking your surroundings as you stared outside the window to take a look at the outside world. The wind had calmed down significantly.
The flapping of pages one after the other echoed in the deafening silence of the spacious room. A few careful steps on the thick wool of the carpeted floors and the rhythmic clicking of fingers on keyboards filled in each quiet seconds that passed. The library was great for studying, but deadly boring.
Yerim was squinting her eyes at the screen of one of the library’s old desktops, scrolling and scheming through an article that she found important. Jisung, sitting next to her, fell asleep in the midst of keeping notes, head falling with a thud on the hardcover encyclopedia he was supposed to be reading. A soft snore escaped him, which earned a frown from Yerim. “Poor boy, he works and studies so hard,” she whispered.
You hummed under your breath in agreement as you sat up. “I’m gonna go look for the book I want. Care to join?” you asked Yerim but she shook her head instead. “I have to finish my work in 20 minutes, another girl needs to use the computer and all the others are occupied,” she answered and you encouraged her to keep on working.
You left your two friends to carry on with studying – or at least one of them – and slowly walked towards the massive corridors filled with shelves full of books. It was so intimidating. Tall bookshelves packed with books, aligned in continuous rows, leading you to the dead-ends of each corridor, almost in a maze-like effect. For a place that is supposed to be calm and quiet, it was safe to say that it rather filled you with anxiety.
You held your post-it note in your hand, looking at the name and serial number of the book you wanted to find. Despite the careful organizing of each shelf, you never seemed to find what you were looking for.
Eyes trailing along the shelves, you spent what felt like hours reading every single title on the spines of the books in hopes of finding what you wanted. Tracing your fingers along the shelves, moving your eyes up and down following the alignment of the books, you were trying your hardest to spot the title you needed before you got dizzy from the overwhelming sensation.
And bingo. The book was right there. Except, it was placed on the very top shelf.
You left an integral groan, trying to remain calm. You can do this, Y/n. Taking a deep breath and then exhaling, you gathered all your strength to stretch out your legs and arms in an attempt to reach the top shelf. Wiggling and pushing yourself on your tiptoes, you tried to hold on to the shelf with your one hand and grab the book with the other.
This plan could really work, yet instead of grabbing the book, you pushed it further into the shelf. There was a stepladder around here the last time, where the fuck is it now?
Sighing in frustration, your feet touched the ground again. Asking for help isn’t an option; you would rather lock yourself up in a room to hide the embarrassment of showing such a weakness. And it wasn't even a weakness, just your pure stupidity.
Looking around the corridors in hopes of finding that stepladder you needed, a shadow came upon you, reaching out a hand over your head.
“You were looking for this?” a low voice asked, barely upon a whisper. You turned around to see a boy your age standing in front of you, very close to you, stretching out his hand to you. And he was holding the book you wanted.
You blinked a few times, moving your gaze from him to the book and back to him. With swift movements, you took the book from his hands. “Yeah, thanks,” you whispered, looking down at your feet.
The boy didn’t move. He was standing still in front of you and you had no idea why. You could feel his burning gaze on you, traveling up and down your body to take in your full figure, his soft breathing as the only sound that could be distinguished in such an awkward silence.
“So,” he trailed off, with a prominent vocal fry in the way he spoke. He cleared his throat and you lifted your head to meet his eyes. “Introduction to Fashion Design, huh?” he asked.
His eyes were colored brown, so dark that they almost looked like an abyss you could get lost in. His nose was sharp, placed right in the center of his face, balancing every single one of his other features. His completely non-bumpy nose bridge led down to his lips, not thin but not full, stretched in an unreadable, Mona Lisa-like smirk that you couldn’t interpret. His jawline was forming a perfect triangular symmetry, connecting all his characteristics together in harmonious ways. You looked back into his eyes to finally notice the thick, expressive eyebrows framing every single detail on his face, slightly lifted due to the question he asked you seconds ago. His hair was short and bleached to a whitish platinum blonde color, neatly styled in a way that his bangs were parted to the sides of his forehead, split in an almost mathematical manner. You tried to find a flaw, something that didn’t fit with the rest of his facial features, but your attempts were in vain. He was perfect.
He was in fact gorgeous. Where the hell was he hidden all this time? Maybe you should have been coming to the library more often when Yerim and Jisung asked you to.
You realized you were now staring at him, because he chuckled, smirk lifting upwards to show his ironic and teasing intention hidden behind it, eyes glimmering and brows going even higher. You also failed to notice that he was now leaning towards you, as he rested his arm on the shelf behind you, the one right above your head. “Staring much, kitten?” the teasing tone now obvious in his voice.
You gulped and dragged your eyes along his body, fully taking a look of his entire figure. He was taller than you, and he seemed quite buff under the hoodie and sweatpants he was wearing. The broadness of his shoulders and sturdiness of his stance betrayed his athletic physique. You tried to keep eye contact with him, smiling in an attempt to return the teasing attitude he had. “Are you flirting, Mr. buff guy?” you provoked him, laughing at the intentional choice of the teasing nickname. And you had no idea how you could master to give off such an attitude when you had such a good-looking guy standing inches away from you.
He scoffed and rolled his eyes playfully at your witty comment, looking right into your eyes, The fooling smirk he had plastered across his lips earlier was now replaced by a smile, a genuine one that hinted some interest. “You’re fun, I like you,” he said.
“Do you mean fun or funny?” you kept toying with him as he seemed to like it. “So you’re amusing, too” he said, but his voice implied that this comment wasn’t addressed to you, rather it was an observation he voiced out loud.
“Well, you seem amused so I won’t deny it,” you said and he laughed out of embarrassment. His laugh probably came out louder than what he intended, because someone from the corridor behind you shushed him, reminding him of what this place was. So he wasn’t that hard to read, after all. “Why do you need this huge ass book, anyway?” he changed the subject, tossing the conversation to you.
“Well, as you can see I study fashion design,” you said, “and I am currently suffering from a severe designer’s block so maybe this book will help me”.
“I’ve written some articles on fashion,” he said nonchalantly. “I can send you some of them, if you want. You might get some inspiration,” he added.
“You? Articles? About fashion?” you asked him in disbelief and he responded with one of his annoying chuckles he gave you earlier. “I study journalism, kitten. Writing magazine articles is part of the job, so I was assigned some fashion bits at some point,” he said.
“Now I’m amused,” you confessed honestly, raising your eyebrows. This was the last thing you expected from a guy that looked like that, whatever that would mean. He suddenly wasn't just a handsome, flirty boy but he actually became quite interesting.
“Yeah, maybe you’ve read some of them already. Well, I hope you haven’t because this way I have an excuse to contact you. I’m Na Jaemin,” he introduced himself, stretching out his hand initiating a handshake.
You accepted his handshake and introduced yourself too. “I’m Y/n,” you said, smirking at him due to his smooth flirtatious tactics that you hated to admit that they had you swept under his feet so easily.
“You can send the articles to my email address, do you happen to have a pen on you?” you asked him and he rolled his eyes once again. After all this time you were talking so close to one another, he took a step further back to search through the pockets of his sweatpants. He took out a scratch pad from his right pocket and a pen from his left. He moved the objects in the air triumphantly, raising his eyebrows at you. “I study journalism, remember?” he pouted and you chuckled.
He handed you the pen and notebook and you scribbled your email address on a random blank page you found as you flipped it open. You gave it back to him and he took it, looking at what you wrote down with drawn eyebrows, as if he tried to memorize it. “I was actually expecting you to write your phone number too, but it’s cool,” he said with a fake sadness in his flirty tone.
You giggled. “You can’t send me articles through my phone number, you know?”
He lifted his head and smirked at you, but in a way he hadn’t done so already. You could sense some excitement. “We’ll be in touch, kitten,” he said before turning on his heels, leaving you standing on the empty library corridor, burning like a rising flame.
hot lava builds up inside me,
upon a single glance of yours
scorching hot, scalding,
sizzling, roasting, boiling,
one more look from your fiery eyes,
and my volcano will erupt — without any warning.
Friday, October 10th, 1997
“So you’re telling me that you carried out this full conversation while whispering?” Yerim asked confused, sipping from her caramel flavored hot chocolate.
“Basically, yeah. I mean, we were at the library. That’s how people are supposed to talk there,” you answered and she glared at you. “People aren’t supposed to talk at all in the library, Y/n,” Yerim deadpanned and you scoffed.
“That’s not the issue now, Yerim, focus,” you told her, averting her attention to what you had to say. “The thing is, I’ve never seen him before. And now he suddenly comes, looking as if he were sculpted by the gods, and he flirts with me!” you exclaimed.
Yerim opened her mouth to speak but she was cut off by Jisung, who rushed to your table with a coffee cup in his hand, slipping into one of the empty chairs. “Who haven’t you seen before?” he asked.
Last night, after your encounter with this guy, Jaemin, you couldn’t concentrate anymore. Your mind was occupied with the image of him, the way he looked into your eyes so attentively, the amusing tone of his words and the bulky physique that you could already remember in detail because of how much you stared at him.
So you took your things and left the library because you felt shy. The confidence that had completely engulfed you while you were talking with him vanished abruptly and you immediately came back to your regular, shy self. You couldn’t admit to anyone, not even yourself, how flustered he left you after your brief first meeting with him, so you couldn’t face your friends after this, because your shyness would turn into embarrassment.
Jaemin sent you the fashion articles he had written, indeed, but that was it. You simply sent him back a ‘thank you’ email and that was the end of the conversation. Since neither of the two tried to continue it, you decided to just leave him be for the moment. You wouldn’t be able to say, or rather email him, anything proper after how bashful he left you. You actually took the time to read his articles instead, but they weren’t as helpful as you hoped they would be. At least you were thankful he kept his word and put in some effort.
You didn’t know Jaemin. But during the few minutes that you met him, the only thing you could read about him was that he was unreadable. Or, at least, difficult to read. The sharpness in his soft features, the softness of his tough body, and the deep brown eyes that were imprinted inside your mind hid things you couldn’t decipher.
His external appearance definitely lured you in, but the mysterious nature of his mind was what kept you intrigued.
So the next morning, you asked Yerim and Jisung to hang out at ‘Caramel Craze’. Jisung had a morning shift, so during his lunch break, he would have time to catch up with everything you had to say about Jaemin.
Jisung’s eyes traveled between you and Yerim, waiting for one of you to answer his question. You turned to him and hit him back with another question instead of answering his. “Ji, do you happen to know any Na Jaemin?”
His eyes lit up in realization. “Yeah, I do. He comes here quite often,” he said. In a matter of milliseconds, he narrowed his eyes at your confused ones. “Why, what about him?” he asked.
You blinked a few times. “You know him? And he comes here? Here, as in ‘Caramel Craze’? How have I never seen him?” you fired him with all your thoughts that you voiced out into questions and he stayed still, looking at you as if you were a madwoman.
“Yeah,” he trailed off, “I mean, how could you see him when you always look out the window? And then you constantly write on your notebook?” Jisung said and Yerim laughed.
“Don’t do her like that, Ji,” Yerim said. “She met him last night in the library. And apparently she developed a crush on him overnight,” she said and you slapped her shoulder. She let out a yelp and rubbed her shoulder right where you hit her, obviously in a dramatic manner.
“I don’t have a crush on him,” you said. But you do have a crush on him. Maybe it wasn’t a crush, but it was a great interest. You couldn't stop thinking about him, and the most frustrating thing was that you didn’t know what was so charming about him that he had you acting like this. You were too ashamed to admit to any growing feelings towards him, because you didn’t even know him. And even if you did have feelings, you would never voice them out; the words were stuck in your throat and could only be released through your silly little poems.
You repeated everything you told Yerim earlier so that Jisung knew about what happened at the library. Jisung listened closely, sipping from his coffee cup, nodding and humming at each of your sentences. When you finished, he placed his coffee cup on the table and leaned back into his chair, shrugging. “Why don’t you ask him to hang out?” he suggested.
Your eyes widened and your cheeks blazed with heat. “Are you serious?” you asked him.
“I might have to agree with him, Y/n,” Yerim pouted while fiddling with her fingers.
“I didn’t tell you to ask him out,” Jisung started, resting his elbows on his knees as he leaned towards the table, “I told you to ask him to hang out. There’s a difference. You want to get to know him better, so you need to spend time with him” he said.
You realized that Jisung was right. He didn’t tell you anything you didn’t already know, but hearing it out put some sense into you and prompted you to act beyond your thoughts. You were too shy to approach him, though. It still amazed you how well you handled his flirting and you were afraid that your actual reserved personality would put him off.
You didn’t even know why you were so curious about his idea of you. Were you that interested in him? You didn’t particularly mean to impress him, you just wanted to meet his expectations, whatever they might be. Your way of thinking was unknown to you, which made you believe you were starting to sound kind of desperate. And you absolutely hated that a boy had you acting so unsure of yourself.
Monday, October 13th, 1997
“So, what did you think about my articles? Were they any help?” Jaemin asked you curiously as he slowly propped himself up, resting on his elbows that were touching the moist grass.
You had just finished your morning classes and were heading to your dorm when you bumped into none other than Na Jaemin himself. You preferred the fact that you met him this way, on a random day on campus. It saved you from all your embarrassment and second thoughts you had about sending him an email. Who even sends an email for such a silly reason? It was times like this that you wished he had given you his phone number. So it was better this way. He seemed quite thrilled to see you, so you couldn’t bring yourself to refuse his offer of an impromptu picnic on the campus’ hill.
The weather wasn’t very ideal for a picnic, though. Spring needed to wait for her turn to come, so for now fall was in charge of setting the mood. The soft gray clouds were playing hide and seek with the sun and, if the sun cheated, the clouds would drop a couple of tears here and there out of annoyance. The freshly-cut grass beneath you was clearly affected by the clouds’ behavior, so you laid your jacket down and sat on it in order to prevent the dampness from wetting your pants.
You sat down on your jacket, knees drawn to your chest. You were looking ahead of you, eyes scanning around the open campus thinking of where all these people were going. Faces kept on coming and going, mouths talking and laughing and screaming, brains occupied with thoughts and stress and concerns. You could spend an entire fortune if it meant that you could have access to every little thing all these people were thinking about. But you were mostly interested in the thoughts and concerns that occupied the brain of the boy who was laying right beside you.
“Thank you for sending the articles, really. I honestly didn’t expect you to do it, but thanks. The thing is, though, they didn’t help me that much. But still, I appreciate it,” you answered with more honesty than what you intended. You didn’t have the heart to tell Jaemin that his articles were almost useless for what you wanted, so you tried to say it to him as carefully as possible. It wasn’t even his fault, there were good articles and this surprised you pleasantly, it was too bad they didn’t work for the topic of your assignment.
Jaemin frowned at your response. “Damn, were they that bad?” he voiced out his thoughts with a tone that hinted at some sadness, and you immediately turned to look at him. You lifted your hand to use it as a shield, as a sunray peeked through the clouds and fell right on your eyes.
“What? No, what are you talking about? Your articles were great, just not what I needed,” you reassured him but he shook his head, lost in worry. The sunray moved and rested on Jaemin’s face, which earned a frowning look from him, squinting his eyes at the violence of the light.
“I don’t know,” he started, not looking directly at you, “sometimes I feel like I suck at what I do. I am probably a shit journalist.”
You fully turned your body to look at him directly and you couldn’t explain why you felt the sudden urge to slap some sense into him. The last thing you expected from a guy like him was to be insecure of himself and his capabilities.
“What are you even talking about?” you said, and he turned to look up at you, waiting for what you had to say next. “Those articles were great; your writing was precise, the content was informative and it was crystal clear that you worked your ass off to do this type of research. Look, I’ve only known you for like, what, five days? And we haven’t even talked during half of them, but you seem like a really good journalist. Never underestimate yourself again,” you encouraged him but the frown never left his beautiful face.
Jaemin scoffed and looked down on his lap, swaying his feet so the tips of his shoes touched each other. “I don’t know, it’s just,” he started again, pausing a little to think. He lifted his head and looked at you with his deep brown eyes, that hid a slight sign of dissatisfaction. “Everything is so much easier with photos,” he said.
You visibly blinked a couple of times at the ambiguity of his words and he took it as a sign to elaborate. “You know, sometimes I just wish I could abandon everything, grab my camera and just…just take pictures of things,” he said.
You stared at him. His words went right into you. You resonated with what he said, you related to his concern and just stayed still, eyes focused on the grass, reflecting on his worries.
Sometimes you felt like this too. Sometimes, you just wanted to leave everything and everyone behind, lock yourself in the comfort of your room and get lost in words. You wanted to block everything, focus on your notebook and just start pouring out your entire inner self onto the paper.
“I think,” you whispered, “I think I understand how you feel,” you said and Jaemin nodded his head. It wasn’t a nod of agreement, nor a nod of understanding, but rather a nod of feeling heard.
You were taken aback by the way Jaemin opened up to you so easily. Behind the façade of the flirty, witty, handsome boy hid a boy full of concern, worry and insecurity. His mindset intrigued you even more, and you were captivated with the way he expressed himself to you with such firmness. It felt as if you just turned over the hardcover of a huge book, eagerly but hesitantly brushing your finger against the front page.
my journey to the vastness of your intellect began —
let me travel all over it, walk along your roads,
skip around the corners of your parks,
run through the sand of your beaches,
jump on the train to your heart.
i just took the first snapshot of your mind;
i would love to stay in this place.
Something light and wet fell on top of your head, landing right on the middle part of your hair. You winced at the sudden sensation, lifting your head upwards instinctively. Jaemin did the same, and a droplet of rain fell on his cheek. The clouds lost another round of hide and seek to the sun, and their anger started becoming obvious as more and more droplets fell on your faces and down to the already damp grass.
You exchanged a quick look with Jaemin and quickly got up from the grass, picking up your jackets. The back of your jacket was damp and a lot of tiny green specs were stuck all over it. You made a vain attempt to shake them off, but the droplets fell quicker with a sharper manner and soon enough the water seeped through your clothes.
You shivered a little but remained still, not moving the slightest. Jaemin was standing still too, looking at you attentively with one of those expressions you could never read. Was he smirking? Smiling? Grinning? His face started becoming a bit blurry due to a couple of rain droplets that fell in your eyes.
You rubbed the droplets off your eyes and looked at Jaemin with a clearer eyesight. Now he was indeed smiling. You didn’t know why he was smiling, and you didn’t realize how contagious his smile was because now you were smiling at him too. And as more droplets fell on your bodies, your smiles turned into laughter.
You and Jaemin were laughing, for no particular reason. Your clothes clung to your body due to the rain, and your hair was almost soaking wet. Despite the shivers running down your body from the abrupt change of the weather, your heart was filled with comfortable warmth and you didn’t bother to move until Jaemin spoke in between his laughter. “Quick, we’re gonna get wet!”
He held his jacket above his head to create a makeshift umbrella and you followed by doing the same, even though both of you were practically soaked. Without any warning, he grabbed your hand with his firm one and started running. You followed him, turning your fast walking into a quick run in order to match his pace. You let him lead you, smiles never leaving your faces, running towards an undefined destination.
Later during the day, when the sun was slowly moving further down the horizon, you found yourself laying in the comfort of your bedsheets, feeling surprisingly calm despite the almost aggressive pattering of raindrops on your window. You could say that this sound was rather the reason for keeping your mind at ease, because if it weren’t for this distraction, you would be going insane.
After you ran away from the campus park with Jaemin due to the sudden heavy rainfall, the two of you found yourselves drawn to the closest and coziest place that would keep you covered from the rain; and that is ‘Caramel Craze’. With Jaemin leading you by a couple steps, he barged into the coffee shop, practically passing through the glass door and entering the caramel-scented atmosphere that blocked away the threatening water force that soaked you entirely. Thankfully, the shop was relatively empty, and thankfully, Jisung was working there at that moment.
At the abrupt sound of you and Jaemin violently entering the coffee shop, Jisung knocked over a plastic coffee cup on the counter, right before he was about to hand it to the customer who just ordered it. Luckily, he had sealed the top part of the cup very well, so there was no sign of the liquid container spilled. Jisung apologized to the customer numerous times, panting and bowing nervously. The customer spared him a lopsided smile and left the shop, leaving Jisung behind, who was still apologizing under his breath.
He didn’t blame you or Jaemin for scaring him; he always blamed himself for being so sensitive to sounds, even though both you and Yerim had told him multiple times that it wasn’t his fault either.
Jisung then noticed that you and Jaemin were wet everywhere from the very top of your head down to your toes, water droplets falling from your hair down to the tiled floor and mud smeared from your shoes on the same tiled floor with every hesitant step you took. He quickly walked over the counter and came closer to you, offering you some hand towels he kept in his apron to help you dry yourselves as much as possible.
He then gave you his umbrella and asked both of you to go home. You, then, told him to keep his umbrella because he would need it, but he denied, saying something along the lines of ‘you guys will get a cold’ and ‘Yerim will pick me up’.
So you left ‘Caramel Craze’ with Jaemin, shortly after you patted your clothes somewhat dry and caught your breath from your previous marathon in the rain. Jaemin insisted on walking you home first to make sure that you wouldn’t get struck by lightning on your way, and then he would go to his dorm too. He kept his word and only left when he saw you enter the front door of your dorm building, keeping Jisung’s umbrella with him, as the rain didn’t seem to get any calmer at all.
And now, after you took a warm shower, you stayed in your room, hugging your pillows while lying in bed, trying to keep your thoughts away from the one thing that keeps on occupying your mind.
And that is Jaemin.
Only a week before today, you had no idea that this guy even existed. You had never seen him around, or even heard of him, and now, after one brief encounter you had with him at the library, he has become the only thing you’ve been thinking about. And the fact that you keep on having more and more encounters with him doesn’t help at all.
You didn't know Jaemin very well. In fact, you barely knew him. The only times you talked with him were when you first met, then a couple of emails you exchanged, and finally today with your eventful hangout.
You didn’t know him for a long time, definitely, and all these brief encounters with him weren’t enough for you to know him better. But even from this little time that you had spent with him, you knew for sure that he was a person worth getting to know better.
Jaemin was flirty, funny, smooth with his words, wrapping you around his finger in an instant and hooking you with just a smile that lights up his entire face. He is willing to help, he is curious and careful. But Jaemin is also just a regular college student, just like you, and he shares the same anxieties as you do. You were surprised by his openness and honesty earlier today, and, even though you were a little shy around him before, now you feel like you grew significantly closer to him.
All these traits you found in him made you realize how much you respected Jaemin as a friend. Although you couldn’t call him a friend yet, you knew well enough that you wanted to keep him as one. And the more he kept on occupying your mind and you kept on thinking not only of his personality but also his insanely good looks, you started to wonder if you wanted to develop a relationship with him that went beyond what you called friendship.
It was too soon to admit that you were slowly developing a crush on him. You were even more embarrassed to admit it when you thought about how fast you were falling for him and how the most trivial of things made you swoon over him. Instead, you kept on denying any feelings that were building up inside your heart because you knew that, if you let them free, you wouldn’t be able to focus on anything else.
You tried to distract yourself by focusing on the repeating pattering sound of the rain when your eyes fell on the books and notes scattered everywhere on top of your desk. Your focus shifted to your studies, using them as an excuse to keep your mind from constantly thinking about the platinum blond-haired boy with the wide smile and the broad shoulders.
It was already mid fall. You were supposed to deliver your assignment by the end of the winter semester if you wanted to earn that scholarship abroad. With every leaf that crunched under your shoe, every droplet of rain that fell, every branch of the trees that moved along the wind, you were getting closer and closer to what you wanted the most; to pursue your studies in a foreign country, meet a different culture and broaden your horizons, just like every young fashion designer should do.
Yet, you were afraid. You were afraid of all the new things that awaited you, all the troubles that you may encounter, all the people that might judge you.
The rain kept on hitting the double-glass window of your dorm room and you sank deeper and deeper into your mattress. You hugged your pillows as tight as you could, bringing them closer to your body and letting your head fall back, closing your eyes softly, inviting sleep to bring you comfort. You wished you had one of those delicious caramel lattes that you always drank at ‘Caramel Craze’. And most importantly, you wished you had a pair of broad shoulders wrapped around your body and a platinum blond head resting on the crook of your neck.
Tuesday, October 14th, 1997
The next morning, the sun and the clouds seemed to have made up from their last night’s aggressive fight, as the sun spread his sunrays all over the place, hitting your window and dancing all over your room. Their intensity of light sat violently on top of your eyes, forcing them open in an instant.
The sun wasn’t the only reason for your waking up, though. You felt an intense heaviness in your lungs, your throat was dry and your nose was so stuffy that the breathing air could hardly pass through your nostrils.
Fucking rain. You had a cold.
With weak movements, you managed to get out of bed and tried to find something that would ease your cold. You grabbed a spare hoodie you had on your desk chair and put it on, as a sudden shiver ran through your body. Your dorm wasn’t that cold, but your body sure was.
Searching through your bathroom’s cabinets, you managed to find a thermometer that was barely working. I hope it still does the job. Indeed, it didn’t take too long before it beeped and the temperature written on the tiny screen was enough evidence to know that you also had a fever. Great.
Your body felt heavy and weak, you found it hard and exhausting to breathe and the atmosphere around the closed space was inexplicably cold. Jisung warned you not to catch a cold, but it turns out that it was an inevitable outcome concerning last night’s weather.
With long, dragging steps, you managed to take a painkiller and make yourself some hot green tea. With frail fingers, you turned on your desktop to check today’s news. While you were waiting for the computer to load, you noticed the tiny screen of your Nokia flashing, indicating that you had voicemails. You opened your phone to listen to them as you logged into your email account.
You have six voicemails from: Jisung
You smiled at the notification and pressed play. Jisung’s deep anxious voice resonated in the small dorm room and you couldn't help but giggle at how worried he sounded about your well-being. You made a mental note to call him later and assure him that you were fine, even though you were burning in fever.
When you turned your attention back to your computer, you found one unread email from Jaemin. You weren’t sure if you expected it or not, but it made you curious when you saw the time the email was delivered. 20 minutes ago.
He could just leave a voicemail or send a short SMS like normal people. Why does he have to be so dramatic? Oh, yeah. He still doesn’t have my number.
You quickly opened the email and read through it very carefully. Apparently, he was feeling the same way as you did. His throat was sore, his body was aching and when he tried to talk, the soreness of his throat led him to a coughing mess.
Unfortunately, you weren’t quick enough to avoid getting soaked in the rain, and the fact that you took it even further by running into this mess of a weather wasn’t the brightest idea. But you can’t say that you regretted it, not even the slightest; the memory of you and the boy that piqued your interest to the fullest, running, laughing and holding hands in the rain may be recent, but it is definitely engraved in your mind. And it certainly awoke feelings that you hadn’t felt for another human being before.
After drinking half of your cup of tea, your body felt a bit stronger than it was earlier, signifying that the painkiller started to work. You quickly sent Jaemin an email asking him for his phone number. It would be so much easier this way. You were bold about it and the shame hadn’t kicked in yet. You couldn't keep on communicating with him solely through emails. You needed something quicker and more direct than that.
Jaemin was quick to respond with his phone number, accompanied with a smiley emoticon. You smirked at that and slowly and carefully pressed the number he sent you on the tiny device. Gathering all your courage, you cleared your throat and waited for him to pick up at each beeping sound that passed.
You almost didn’t want him to pick up, though. The fast beating of your heart and the sharp breaths you took revealed your nervousness. No matter how comfortable you felt in his presence, any initiation of contact between the two of you from your part still made you nervous. You didn’t know how to approach him without feeling like you’re embarrassing yourself and this made your relationship with him awkward in theory.
“Hello?” his voice, deep and hoarse, echoed in your ear and your fingers trembled at the sound, finding it difficult to properly hold the phone in place. “Hey, Jaemin,” you cleared your throat but your voice still sounded quite husky, “how are you?” you asked.
You heard Jaemin sigh from the other side of the phone before he quickly cleared his throat. “Not very well,kitten,” he coughed, “I think you can probably tell”.
You let out a breathy laugh, completely ignoring the familiar nickname he liked to use. Your voice was giving up already and this was the loudest it would come out. “Likewise, I feel awful” you said and it was his turn to laugh now.
“Listen,” he groaned and immediately coughed a few times to open up his voice, “our little hangout session didn’t end well, so,” he trailed off, “do you wanna come over later? At my dorm?” he asked.
Your eyes widened in surprise and you felt your fever rising again at his straightforwardness.
“B-but,” you stuttered, “we both have a cold. Do you think it’s a good idea?” you asked, trying to avoid seeing him in this situation.
“Exactly! We’re both cold, so what’s the matter? I j-just wanted to s-see you,” he stuttered his words due to his dry coughing.
He was right. You both already had a cold, so there was no risk of spreading any viruses between you. And it would be a huge lie if you said you didn’t want to see him. As much as he made you nervous, there was no denying the fact that he offered you great comfort. His presence felt warm and homely like an embrace and the quietness of his thoughts left room for conversations to unfold. You were grateful he was the one who asked you to hang out, because, as much as you liked him and his company, his intimidating aura and your slowly-developing crush on him were enough excuses for you to avoid initiating any contact.
You finally sighed and smirked at Jaemin’s tone, which was far from persuasive but whiny enough for you to fold. “Make sure to drink something warm. I’ll be coming over later,” you said and you smiled brightly at the childish exclamation of happiness from the other side of the phone.
“Your room is cleaner than I thought,” you said as you sat down on the edge of Jaemin’s bed in the middle of his dorm room. Jaemin scoffed and put a hand over his heart, as a way of expressing hurt and betrayal. “Now I feel offended,” he said, but his voice cracked due to his cold which sent both of you in a laughing outburst.
His room was indeed very neat and put-together. Upon entering, you could clearly tell that it belonged to a boy strictly from the boyish scent that engulfed the atmosphere inside those four walls. With minimal furniture and decoration, the room felt almost plain, as if he didn’t actually live there. The only sign of personality inside the room were the pictures hanging on the walls, as well as the journalism books scattered on top of the desk. On the right side of the bed, the short wooden bedside table had collected some specs of dust around the reading lamp. On the left side, closer to the wall, Jaemin had positioned his camera on a tripod.
“Would you like some tea? I had boiled some water earlier and I think there’s still some of it left. It must be enough for two cups,” Jaemin suggested and you nodded, accepting his kind offer.
You didn’t have to speak a word in order for Jaemin to understand you. For some reason, a short and simple up and down movement of your head was the only sign he needed to grasp the positive answer you expressed at his offer. He was quick to turn his heel and go to the single kitchen counter of the dorm to grab two tea cups, placing one chamomile tea bag on each of the cups and slowly pouring the boiled water from a kettle in the cups.
You could see his actions unfolding with the corner of your eye. His dorm room was just a little smaller than yours; there was one big room that functioned both as a living room and a kitchen, a bathroom big enough to fit just one person and a bedroom which included a bed, a tall and narrow double wardrobe, a nightstand and a desk. You found yourself staring at Jaemin, watching him carefully as he filled the cups with the flavored warm liquid, his movements slow and weakened due to his ill state. He would halt his movements sometimes to cough on the inside of his elbow and then go back to what he was doing. His broad back and shoulders hunched as he slightly bent his body downwards to reach the short countertop, and you imagined how his toned back muscles would flex under his hoodie with his every movement.
You couldn’t see the entirety of his face, just a glimpse of his side profile every time he moved around the so-called kitchen area of the room. His defined features darkened due to the shadow that casted upon his face, created by the yellow light that illuminated the tiny space. You weren’t sure why but you felt incredibly attracted to him at that moment. Even with the dark circles under his eyes, indicating his lack of sleep due to his cold, his puffy red nose and swollen lips, he still looked beautiful.
You’ve never called him beautiful. Your attraction towards him was clear, but the fact that you still find him presentable in such a state ringed a bell inside your head and you didn’t really like the sound of it.
Jaemin placed the kettle back on the counter and picked up the now full tea cups, clearing his throat in order to suppress a cough. You quickly teared your gaze away from him, fixing it on the pictures hanging on his walls. Your eyes landed upon a picture of the open sea.
“What are you looking at?” Jaemin asked as he handed you one of the teacups, his voice rough. He coughed a few times, giving you time to think of an answer. He placed his own teacup on his bedside table and then climbed on his bed, sitting cross-legged with his back pressed against the headboard.
I was looking at you thinking about how beautiful you look and how amazed I am by your aura and how I am afraid I am falling in love with you but I don’t want to admit it because it’s stupid, I’ve only known you for a week. You obviously couldn't say that.
You mimicked his position and crossed your legs on the bed too, still holding your cup. “These pictures are beautiful,” you said in a breathy voice, probably due to your cold and not due to your sudden nervousness.
Jaemin suppressed a smile, biting down on his lower lip and quickly shooting a look at the picture-covered wall and then looking back at you. “Thank you,” he said with a rasp, yet it sounded genuine.
You brought the cup to your lips, taking a few sips of the hot chamomile tea, swallowing it carefully as you let it glide down your throat, opening up your vocal chords. “How did you even take a picture of the open sea? Can you fly or something?” you asked him, voice coming out a lot clearer and now Jaemin let out a throaty laugh.
“No, silly. I was at the beach. I took it using this,” he said gesturing towards the tripod on the side of the bed, “It’s called a tripod. With the right angle and zooming in, you get this kind of result,” he finished and you stared at the picture once again.
The sea had a slight movement to it, little waves rising and falling as the bright blue color of the sky reflected a darkness on the water. You couldn’t understand how a photo, a still image of something could contain so many kinetic elements, and the more you focused on it, the more you could see your own eyes appearing through the sea waters because of the reflection caused by the light of Jaemin’s bedroom.
“What’s in that pretty little head of yours, kitten?” Jaemin asked in a whisper, protecting his voice. Without taking your eyes off the photo, you spoke up as loud as you could. “The sea looks so…” you trailed off, “sad,” you found the word you were looking for. This simple small word made Jaemin tilt his head to the side, squinting his eyes in thought. “Why do you say that?” he asked you.
You pouted your lips. “I don’t know”.
His silence prompted you to think further and voice out your thoughts, to make sense of the feeling this image created inside you. At that moment, you wished you had your notebook in hand so that you could write down everything that was inside your head instead of voicing it out. It would be so much easier. But doing that would make the silence awkward rather than comforting, so you gathered all your strength and tried to put into words the emotions you were feeling.
“There’s something about the sea, its blue color and the unexplored depth that evokes such melancholy,” you started, “I just feel empty looking at it. Like there’s a hole inside me as deep as the open sea and it’s so hollow that it oozes with gloom and somberness,” you finished and Jaemin let out a stifled laugh, hinting at an ironic tone.
You turned to face him for the first time after you entered his dorm and your expression must have looked as if you were misunderstood, so Jaemin stopped his laugh abruptly and his features molded to a serious face. “I mean, you poets are so desperate to read so much into things. Not everything has to be depressing or sad. I look at this image as something that gives me calmness, serenity. The blue color fills me with peace and imagination. Why is blue considered a color that represents sadness when it brings such tranquility? I didn’t mean to offend you,” Jaemin said and you cracked a smile at his final comment.
“I’m not offended, I just never thought of it that way,” you whispered and you sipped some of your tea to ease your throat which had become hoarse again. “And I’m not a poet,” you deadpanned.
Jaemin couldn’t help but smile widely, his full teeth on display. You could swear that you had never seen such a perfect set of teeth before, or just a beautiful smile per se, and you mentally slapped yourself for finding someone’s teeth attractive.
“But you are, I’ve seen that notebook you have. That day at the library. You didn’t notice me but after you went back to study I followed you and saw you writing on it. I couldn’t make out what you were writing, but the format of it looked like a poem,” Jaemin said and your mouth dropped open. You never wanted him to find out about this. These little ‘poems’ were everything you were feeling, it was just between you and yourself. Only Yerim and Jisung knew about it and they had never landed a hand on it. Only you were allowed to see what was inside of it.
“I will not comment on the fact that you followed me, stalker,” you emphasized the last word and Jaemin managed to smile even wider, “but in a sense, yeah, I am a poet. But it’s not what you think it is,” you said, drifting your gaze to somewhere, anywhere, away from his eyes.
“Then what is it?” he asked, waiting for you to elaborate.
You didn’t know Jaemin for a long time. That was for sure. But what you definitely knew very well was the urge to open up to him, to finally be able to say everything you felt, everything you thought about without any inhibitions or any fear of judgment. You’ve never clicked like this with anyone before. Jaemin was indeed calmness personified; you knew that he would listen to you whenever you just wanted to vent. He had his way of bringing out your true self, he radiated such security and you just couldn’t help but let your inner self loose, stripping your inner consciousness naked and allowing him to access your bare mind.
“The reason I use this notebook is because it helps me express myself,” you began and Jaemin’s eyes softened. “I-I struggle with this sometimes, you know, saying what I want or what I feel,” you said and gulped in an attempt to ease your sore throat, the teacup in your hands long forgotten. “So I use this to write down all of my thoughts. This way I can let it all out without feeling any pressure from others to talk about things,” you finished off and Jaemin stood still, searching for your eyes which now landed on his compassionate gaze.
“This is so beautiful,” he said with a squeaky raspy voice and the both of you struggled not to laugh at the sound. “I totally understand you, I’m not the best at expressing myself either,” he said and looked around his room, gesturing at the walls. “That’s why I take these,” he mumbled, moving his eyes around to look at the hanging photos, “photography helps me put some boundaries inside my head and kinda gives my feelings substance, like they become tangible, you know?” he said and you nodded in understanding.
“I guess we’re not that different after all,” you smiled and Jaemin giggled at your observation. “You know, when we first met at the library you seemed so cocky, so confident, as if you owned the place. You made me feel shy, but it turns out you’re as much of a hopeless romantic as I am. It’s a shame, it ruins your buff aesthetic,” you said and Jaemin burst into laughter.
He coughed a couple times because laughing caused damage to his already sick vocal cords and regained his composure. “Maybe we’re both too emotionally intelligent and seek ways to express ourselves artistically. The difference is that you picture your emotions through words, while I try to voice out my own feelings with photos,” he said.
You liked what he said because it was true. Your poems were your way of conversing with yourself and the means to communicate what you wanted. Jaemin probably felt the same way about his photos and it seemed to you that maybe you could gain access to his mind through them, speaking to each other through a code of communication that only you and him shared.
“Now who’s the actual poet?” you joked and Jaemin threw his bunny plushie at you. The two of you were laughing, and this simple action just felt so intimate with Jaemin. If every time you spent time with him was like this, then you surely wanted to spend a big part of your life with him.
You brought the teacup to your lips but Jaemin’s sudden movement made your hands wiggle, causing a few droplets of tea to fly up and down your shirt. “Hey, now I have tea stains!” you squealed and you immediately regretted having this reaction as you physically felt your throat ache.
“Oh shut up,” Jaemin said playfully, moving towards the camera resting on the tripod. He took the camera in his hands and sat back down on the bed, right at the place he was sitting earlier. With a few clicks on some buttons, he brought the camera close to his face. He lifted one knee and rested the elbow of the hand holding the camera for support. Jaemin squinted his eye and with a quick push of a button, a soft click was heard in the quiet room.
You stood there still, looking at Jaemin with a confused look as he set his camera aside and grabbed his teacup instead, tilting his head backwards to gulp down all the liquid content left inside the cup. He gulped loudly as he finished and placed the cup on his nightstand with a thud.
“Um, what did you do, exactly?” you asked him and he shrugged. “I took a picture of you. Too bad you can’t see it now. I have to print it first,” he said and you froze.
“Are you an idiot? Why would you do that? I probably look awful! I mean, you didn’t even warn me,” you whined and Jaemin rolled his eyes.
“You’re so dramatic, Y/n. It was just a picture. You know, to remember our little sick hang out session. You’re gonna look back at it in a few months and laugh at our pathetic condition. Also, don’t yell, kitten, you’ll damage your voice,” Jaemin said and you frowned, you hated that he was right.
“And if you want my honest opinion,” he continued, “you didn’t look awful. Y-You actually looked very beautiful,” he whispered the last part of his sentence and focused on the bunny plushie you threw at you earlier, suddenly finding it interesting.
You suppressed a smile and muttered a small ‘thanks’ under your breath. You didn’t know if he heard it or not. If he did, he acted as if he didn’t hear it. Jaemin thinks I’m beautiful.
“Can I ask you something, Y/n?” Jaemin said after a few awkward seconds and you looked into his eyes expectantly, waiting for his question. “Do you know what a ‘blue person’ is?” he asked and you made a confused face which earned a giggle from him.
“Well,” he started, “it’s a person who comes into your life when you need them the most. A person who inspires stability and loyalty, who makes you change your perspective in life for the better, someone who has a soothing effect on you,” he said and took a moment to process this.
You’ve never thought about it before, but in that moment, sitting on Jaemin’s bed talking about things that are serious yet make no sense at all, drinking warm tea and laughing at your sick condition which was caused by your silliness and carelessness, you brought a particular face in your mind, coming to the sudden realization that you knew exactly who your blue person was.
Saturday, November 15th, 1997
“Do you smell that?” Jaemin asked as he sniffed, his nose scrunching at the apparent unpleasant scent he could sense. “No?” you responded confused, sniffing in an attempt to smell whatever he was smelling.
“How can you not? This place is 20 square meters big. I swear something is burning,” he said and kept on scrunching his nose, as he took his yellow highlighter and went back to underlining things he found important on the newspaper spread across his lap.
Your eyes widened in surprise when you finally remembered the cinnamon rolls you put earlier in the microwave. “Oh no,” you muttered and stood up from your chair abruptly, going towards the built-in kitchen counters of your dorm. Without even turning off the microwave, you opened the microwave door and pulled out the plate with the two cinnamon rolls, hissing at the touch of your fingers on the hot glass plate. You placed the plate on the empty space of the kitchen counter, looking at the brown-colored cinnamon rolls with almost teary eyes.
“Is everything okay?” Jaemin asked as he walked towards you, resting a hand on your shoulder. “Yeah, everything’s fine,” you turned your head to look at him, “I hope you don’t mind eating a slightly burnt cinnamon roll,” you said and shook his hand off your shoulder, opening the small fridge under the counter to grab a bowl. “I mean, once I put the glaze on top you won’t even be able to taste the burn,” you laughed awkwardly.
Jaemin grabbed your hand and turned your body around fully so that you were entirely facing him. He squeezed your hand slightly and with his free hand and moved a strand of hair that fell on your face behind your ear. “It’s okay, we don’t have to eat them, don’t stress about it. I’ll go grab some fresh ones down at ‘Caramel Craze’. My treat,” he said soothingly, rubbing his thumb unconsciously over the palm of your hand that he was holding.
“No, no, it’s fine,” you let go of his hold and turned back around, grabbing a spoon and dipping it into the bowl with the glaze, scooping some of the glaze with the spoon and spilling it over the cinnamon rolls. “Ugh, I’m so dumb! I can’t even make microwavable pastries!” you cried out and dropped the bowl on the counter as your shaky hands couldn’t hold it anymore. You run both your hands through your hair, inhaling and exhaling deeply. Jaemin moved closer to you and started rubbing your back in circles, as you hunched over the kitchen counter.
“You’re not dumb, don’t make me listen to bullshit. It was just a little mishap, no big deal. In fact,” Jaemin trailed off and let go of your back to grab a cinnamon roll from the plate. You pouted at the sudden lack of his touch, but he didn’t notice. Jaemin took a big bite of the cinnamon roll, chewed a few times and looked at you. “With the glaze on top, you can’t even taste the burn,” he said with a smile and winked at you as he went back inside your bedroom, sitting down at your bed to continue reading the newspaper.
You had known Jaemin for about a month now. And you spent almost every single day with him. Yerim and Jisung whined at you, saying that you don’t make enough time for them anymore and that they’re not your favorite friends now that you’ve met Jaemin. This was not true, but it definitely rubbed them the wrong way when they wouldn’t see you every day, like they used to, because Jaemin would make plans for you and him on the spot.
During this period, you and Jaemin grew significantly closer. You could confidently walk around and say that the two of you were friends, despite the underlying flirty attitude on both sides, and the looks people gave you upon hearing this statement were priceless.
Nobody could understand how a girl like you, shy, introverted, soft-spoken, could hang out with a guy like Jaemin, popular, friendly, outgoing. The two of you might seem the complete opposite of one another, but in reality, you had so many more things in common than people could imagine. They just didn’t wanna see past a person’s external appearance and initial vibe. That’s why your friendship with Jaemin seemed weird and unexpected to them, but to you, it was just right.
You would be fooling yourself though if you said that you only wanted him as your friend. It was undeniable that every time your hands brushed against each other, every time he hugged you, every time he would play with your hair or pinch your cheeks, you wished you could call him more than a friend. Skinship with Jaemin felt so natural, nothing he or you did was forced and there were always genuine intentions behind each touch. You had already laid out your inner self to him, both of you had opened up to each other about different thoughts and worries you had. Expressing your feelings vocally gradually became easier, the words slipping out of your tongue every time Jaemin would ask you what was wrong, and you just melted at the sincere concern in his voice and the curious eyes he looked at you with. So being more comfortable with each others’ bodies was bound to happen at some point.
He made you feel listened to. You didn’t remember when the last time you wrote poems in your notebook was. You didn’t have to. But, to be honest, you also didn’t have the time to write anything. School became hectic and the pressure of deadlines was enough to make you stressed about the assignment that was supposed to earn you the scholarship abroad.
You stood still, taking deep breaths to help yourself calm down. Picking up the plate with the remaining cinnamon roll, you straightened your back and headed towards your desk. You sat down at the chair, turning to face your messy sketchbook filled with semi-colored designs. Your project was progressing a lot and you were kinda proud of it, but not entirely. You kept having doubts about it and the pressure to succeed messed with your entire mentality.
You made a move to pick up your pencil to add a couple of details on a jacket you just designed but you decided otherwise. You hesitated for a second but mastered all your courage instead. Turning your chair around, you looked at Jaemin. He was wearing a concentrated expression on his face, eyebrows drawn together as he was seemingly reading something he found important.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered and immediately cleared your throat. You didn’t expect your voice to come out so small.
At the faint sound of your voice, Jaemin averted his gaze from the newspaper to your eyes. “About what?” he asked, his furrowed eyebrows carrying confusion now.
“About whatever that was earlier. I don’t know what’s got to me, I feel stupid for behaving like this. I’m sorry,” you said and lowered your head to look at your lap. You felt weak under Jaemin’s concerned eyes, and holding eye contact with him at that moment felt like an extreme sport.
Jaemin put down the newspaper and turned his full attention to you. “Aw kitten,” he murmured and your head jolted up at the sound of the nickname he had given you. “It’s okay. You don’t need to apologize about anything,” he reassured you and you felt your lips lift upwards into a grimace that you hoped resembled a smile. “I know you’re stressed about the assignment, I would be too if I were in your shoes. Forget about it already, will you?” he said and you nodded.
Jaemin went to grab his highlighter when your voice halted his movements. “How can you always stay so positive?” you asked him out of pure interest. You were a bit jealous of him, of his way of viewing the world. Even in the worst of moments, when there is no sign of light, he would still find a tiny glimpse of hope to hold on to. You wished you could do that too.
Jaemin offered you a tight lipped smile. “Kitten,” he started, “if people didn’t stay positive about life, we wouldn’t be able to move forward in anything”.
His honesty caught you off guard. He didn’t notice your tangled face as he immediately refocused on his school work. You decided not to push him any further, moving what he said to the very back of your mind. When he felt ready, he would open up to me.
You turned your chair and started working on your assignment too. For a few minutes, both of you remained silent. The room was filled with sounds of pages turning and pencils scratching on paper. Your mind was entirely focused on your project, completely forgetting about the boy who was in the room with you.
Jaemin was keeping notes on the side of a newspaper article when he spoke up, addressing you. “Remind me again, where is that scholarship supposed to be?”
“Canada,” you answered his question without losing your concentration on what you were doing.
Jaemin lost focus and his mind went blank, forming different thoughts inside it. “Damn, that’s,” he mumbled, “that’s a bit far away,” he said with an awkward laugh.
“Yeah,” you smiled nervously, not being able to hide your disbelief. You couldn’t believe an opportunity like that was offered to you, so you had to give your all into that silly project.
“At least you have something planned. You know, something to look forward to, for your career,” he said casually. “Unlike me. I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing, let alone what I wanna do in the future,” he continued.
“Well,” you started, picking up a red-colored pencil to paint the inside of a coat, “I haven’t got the scholarship yet. If I do, then we’ll talk about it”. You switched the red pencil for a blue black. “And you still have lots of time to think about your career, no need to stress about it now”.
“Whatever. The point is, you will get the scholarship, I know you will. I’ve seen your designs and if these don’t deserve a scholarship abroad, then I don’t know what does,” Jaemin said and you giggled at his encouraging words.
“Thank you Jaem,” you said and you couldn't see him, but his eyes lit up with love at the sound of the nickname you gave him on the spot. The beating of his heart quickened abruptly and the pen he was holding slipped from his fingers as his hands became sweaty. He swore his hands weren’t sweaty a few seconds ago.
Before he resumed with his homework, he spared a last glance at you and gulped. He knew that he shouldn’t be feeling whatever it was that he was feeling at that moment.
Friday, December 19th, 1997
Shades of blue, red and yellow reflected on the thick glass of the wall-length window, trapping the little specks of light inside it in such a way it made them look like colorful halos. The fun and playful nature of Christmas lights gave the dull and moody winter atmosphere a hopeful tone, the kind that was in complete contrast with the darkness of this cold season. Feathery flakes of snow in the color of purity were falling rhythmically on the already snow-covered ground, making a little dance in the air due to the chilly breeze in the sky. It was already late afternoon; people were roaming in the streets of Seoul, walking quickly with their heads hanging low in an attempt to prevent the crispiness of the cold from hitting their face. Whether they had finished their night classes or their corporate jobs, all of them were walking towards one specific purpose, the warmth and comfort of their own homes.
You were an exception to this rule, though. Well, not just you. ‘Caramel Craze’ would still be open for about an hour. Students were still sitting at the shop’s tables with their books scattered across the wooden surfaces and their warm coffees accompanying them in plastic cups. Looking at them, you could sympathize with them. Their dark circles under their eyes were prominent and the strong and sweet scent of caramel-flavored coffee made them more sleepy than they already were.
Sitting at your favorite table, you wrapped your fingers around your plastic cup to help transfer some of the liquid’s temperature to your freezing fingers. Winter offers itself for plenty of layering and experimentation in fashion, but the cold weather it comes with is unbearable.
“Hey, girl,” Yerim’s voice shook you out of your thoughts and you greeted her back as she unwrapped the scarf from her neck and folded it at the back of her chair. She sat down, dusting the front of her coat to shake off some snowflakes that had landed on its woolen material and eventually took it off too.
You and Yerim started chit-chatting about your day. She started filling you in with all the details about some guys yelling at each other on campus, but the context of the reason behind their argument was unknown.
Your conversation was interrupted by the screeching of the chair on the tiled floor to your right. You winced at the sound and turned to look at the culprit. Jisung pressed his lips together apologetically and greeted you and Yerim softly. He sat down carefully and lifted the chair as he dragged it closer to the table, shutting his eyes closed as if this would help him avoid any more screeching.
“So, what did you want to tell us Y/n? Come on, I can’t wait anymore,” Jisung complained and you ruffled his hair playfully. “Just wait a bit more, please? Jaemin is not here yet,” you said and he nodded in understanding.
“Oh yeah, we’re still waiting for you boyfriend,” Yerim commented and Jisung snorted, covering his mouth with his fist to prevent his laughing.
“How many times do I have to tell you? He is not my boyfriend,” you reminded them but your defensive tone didn’t seem very convincing to them. Jisung raised his eyebrows and Yerim rolled her eyes, but you couldn’t really do anything about it.
The truth is, you didn’t know what your relationship with Jaemin could be labeled as. He was a very good friend, indeed. But at the same time, he didn’t act like just a friend. During the past month, you and Jaemin practically became attached to the hip; wherever he went you went and wherever you went he went too. He grew closer with Yerim and Jisung too, and the four of you started hanging out together quite often. Jaemin liked your friends a lot and they liked him back too, even though Yerim was a little skeptical about him at first, saying that a popular guy like him couldn’t possibly be that nice. Jisung always disagreed, saying that he found him easy-going and fun to talk to, but he always muttered this under his breath to prevent Yerim from getting angry.
The four of you made a really good team. But there was no denying that Jaemin treated you differently from the other two. At first, you thought that it was maybe because he was more comfortable with you and that it would take him some time to warm up to the others. Time passed, and you were finally able to see the Jaemin you knew with Yerim and Jisung too. But he never found excuses to touch them, or hold deep eye contact with them, or buy them coffees or ask them to hangout without you. He only did all those things with you.
Yerim found this suspicious, but you kept telling her that she was delusional and none of all of this was true. She was just trying to make you feel better about your huge crush on him by feeding into your own delusions, but her tactics made things even worse because every time Jaemin did something remotely romantic, you would overthink about it for days.
It’s not like you couldn’t open up to him about your feelings. The two of you had already gone past that stage. You could talk to Jaemin freely about anything that bothered you and you knew that he would listen, just like you would do. Expressing yourself wasn’t so hard anymore. Jaemin made everything easier. But these were not just any feelings. These were your feelings about him. No matter how bad you wanted to let it all out, the words were stuck in your throat and, even worse, you found it difficult to even write them on paper. So all you could do was ignore them.
A cool gust of wind entered the cozy café when the front door opened, revealing the boy you have been dying to see all day long. Jaemin took a couple of glances around the room to spot where you were sitting, although he knew you would probably be sitting at your favorite table, unless some other people went there first.
His eyes landed on yours, staring at him and waiting eagerly for him to come towards you. With dragging steps, he made his way towards your table and sat down on the chair to your left, his deep brown eyes never leaving yours. “I’m not too late, am I?” he asked, addressing Yerim and Jisung too this time.
“It’s fine, man. I just came too,” Jisung replied to him casually and you didn’t miss the way Yerim smiled at the volume of Jisung’s voice, which was noticeably louder than his usual speaking tone.
“Don’t you have a shift, Jisung?” Jaemin asked as he made himself comfortable on the chair, refusing to take off his puffer jacket. By looking at his shifting posture, you could tell he was feeling a bit uncomfortable in it.
“No, I was working in the morning. Chenle is covering the afternoon shift,” Jisung said and Jaemin nodded, muttering a soft ‘cool’ under his breath.
“Okay, so,” you began speaking to grab their attention. It was becoming harder and harder to keep the secret from them any longer. You just wanted to get it done and over with.
“Let me guess,” Yerim interrupted you, lifting her finger, “you have already booked tickets for our Christmas holiday vacation,” she said and you stared blankly at her.
“Oh I knew it!” Jisung exclaimed, eyes widening. “It’s Jeju, isn’t it?” he asked with great anticipation. Jaemin remained suspiciously calm.
“Jeju in winter? Are you serious?” Yerim cut off Jisung’s enthusiasm in a second, his eyes dropping and lips forming into a soft frown.
“No, actually I’m going back home for the Christmas holidays this year. I’m spending time with my family,” you said but Yerim shrugged upon hearing this statement.
“So? I bet you booked it for after the Christmas holidays then,” he said and turned to Jisung. “But it can’t be Jeju, right?” Yerim asked but the question was mostly directed at Jisung who just sighed in annoyance.
“Actually, guys,” you started, leaning more towards the table to feel physically closer to them. Jaemin mimicked your stance, but the other two remained still in their positions. “I’m not gonna come back to Seoul after the holidays,” you said and they froze.
“What?” Yerim whispered, looking at you with confusion spread across her face.
“Well,” you said, suppressing the smile that was creeping up your lips, “I won’t be back because I got the scholarship. I’m going to Canada!” you said and this time you couldn’t help the wide smile that appeared on your lips.
All three of them looked at you with wide eyes, swarming you with a bunch of exclamations that sounded like a mix of ‘congratulations!’ and ‘I knew you could do it!’ and ‘you deserve this so much’. Yerim even got up from her seat and came to sit next to you in the booth, hugging you so tightly you found it difficult to breathe.
Your eyes were searching your friends’ bright ones filled with excitement for you. They were proud of you. It was obvious. You have been constantly talking about the scholarship and now that you actually got it, it seemed unreal.
Yerim let go of you but still remained seated beside you. “I’m so happy for you, I can’t even think about how much I’m gonna miss you! How did I forget about it completely? What a shitty friend, I was too busy studying for my exams. I gotta tell my friend Mark about it, he’s gonna be so excited!” she said, clapping her hands together.
“Who’s Mark?” Jaemin asked, his voice as cold as the temperature outside. “He’s the coolest! I’ve only met him once but he’s so nice, man,” Jisung said with more excitement than he intended to show.
Yerim turned to Jaemin, reaching for his puffer jacket to remove a platinum blonde hair that fell from his head. “He is a friend of mine. He moved to Canada when we were in elementary school. I had told him about Y/n’s interest in this scholarship and he promised to help her with anything she needed if she got it. And now she did! I’m so excited for you, you can’t imagine!” Yerim addressed her last sentence to you and the smile plastered across your face could not die down at all.
“Don’t bother him too much, Yerim. He’ll probably think I’m completely clueless. Trust me, I can handle myself in a foreign country,” you reassured her but she waved her hands at you, going into a full rambling mode. Jisung would butt in the conversation from time to time to add his own comments, but mostly to agree with Yerim on whatever it was she was saying. Jaemin remained silent, eyes fixed on the wooden table in front of him.
You were fully immersed in the conversation you were having with Yerim and Jisung, which mostly revolved around tips about what to do abroad and warnings about creepy strangers. A loud screeching of a chair echoed in the room, following the rustling of clothes and the decisive thumping of footsteps. You turned your head to see that Jaemin had got up from his chair and was heading towards the café’s front door, opening it and letting it shut close behind him.
You exchanged a weird look with your friends before you got up and followed suit after him. You went outside the crisp atmosphere, your skin meeting the frosty environment. You felt your eyes water at the sudden cold sensation, so you pulled your coat closer to your body. Damn, I left my scarf inside.
Among the huge crowd of people, you managed to spot a certain platinum-haired boy walking towards somewhere you didn’t know. You called out his name, skipping and pushing through the people walking towards the opposite direction, not having the time to apologize to them for your rude behavior.
“Jaemin!” you finally called once you were closer to him and he heard you, turning around to search for the source of the voice calling his name.
Once he spotted you, he sighed and slowly turned his heel to continue walking away. You were quick enough to tug at his jacket before he could make more steps ahead. “Jaemin, listen to me,” you said, your chest heaving up and down.
“What happened? Why did you leave like that?” you asked him, raising your tone of voice thinking that he wouldn’t be able to hear you in the midst of the busy street.
“What was I supposed to do? Sit there and listen to your friends planning out your life abroad? About that random guy you’re supposed to meet there? No, I don’t wanna listen to any of these,” he said with a hint of anger, making a move to turn around again.
You were still holding onto him. You pulled him again and he turned around, sighing deeply. “B-But I thought you were proud of me, I thought you were supporting me on this,” you said. Your vision became blurry, thick clear liquid forming at your lower lash line. It wasn’t the cold that caused this.
“Of course I support you and of course I’m happy for you, you have no idea how proud of you I am. But-”
“But what? What, Jaemin?” you interrupted him.
He shook his head, gulping thickly before he opened his mouth to speak. “I don’t want you to go. I’m not ready for this, okay? For the past two months, I have been living my best life with you around me. I-I can’t just sit here and watch you leave. You’re leaving, Y/n. You’re leaving me,” he said, his voice breaking at his last sentence.
You stared at him in disbelief. He can’t be serious right now.
“I’m gonna miss you too, Jaemin. I really am. But what you’re saying is irrational. It’s only gonna be one semester! I’ll be back before you even notice it. And we’ll always be in touch!” you said, your throat itchy from the shouting, and the tears you were holding in.
“You will forget about me,” he said, lowering his gaze.
“I will not-”
“Yes you will. Y-You know what, Y/n? I was really rooting for you. And I still am. And maybe I’m saying this because I don’t feel ready to let you go, but you don’t really want to pursue this career. Deep inside, you know this too,” Jaemin said and walked away, leaving you in the middle of the pavement, tears streaming down your face uncontrollably, frozen in place like a centuries old iceberg.
thick as ice, my heart
burning from the cold inside it,
throbbing and shaking like a weeping child;
your knife, freshly sharpened at the edges
points and cuts through me
crack! — shatters fly up
and I am bleeding
as you melt away,
far away
Sunday, January 11th, 1998
As soon as you stepped your foot out of the plane, your body immediately reacted to the winter breeze of the atmosphere. Although you knew that the temperatures in Canada weren’t that different from the ones in Korea, the air in Vancouver felt much fresher and cleaner than the urbanity it carries in Seoul. But as you were standing outside the airport for nearly half an hour with two heavy suitcases in both hands, the cold air became a lot crispier and your clothes weren’t warm enough to keep you from practically freezing.
Yerim promised you that she would send her friend Mark to come pick you up from the airport as soon as you landed. You insisted that he didn’t have to, you were capable enough of finding a taxi and your English was almost at the level of fluency, so arriving safely at your new dorm wouldn’t be a hard task. But you also knew better than to argue with Yerim, so you just let her do her thing. The problem was, you didn’t know what Mark looked like and the fact that you were waiting for so long wasn’t a good sign.
You looked at the watch on your wrist and sighed. He must be in some kind of trouble, it’s been 40 minutes now. You had no means to contact this guy and even if you did, you weren’t sure if your Korean phone number could work in a foreign country. You promised yourself you wouldn’t panic if things don’t go the way you wanted, but at that moment, the fact that you were far away from home started to fully kick in. You were standing outside an airport of a foreign country, in the midst of thousands of strangers passing by you, with no familiar faces in your peripheral vision. The idea of studying abroad was fun in theory, but in practice it actually was scarier than you imagined.
But you had to manage somehow. Winter offered itself for coziness, hot drinks and movie nights; the situation you were currently in reminded you of the exact opposite side of the cold season. You let out a deep sigh, visible like cigarette smoke in the crisp air. You noticed a line of taxis on the other side of the airport entrance and decided that it was the best thing you could do to avoid your fingers and toes from going completely numb. Gathering your luggage, you turned your heel towards the lined-up taxis and made a mental note to explain everything to Yerim later.
“Um, excuse me?” you heard a voice behind you and halted as you recognized that this person was speaking Korean. You turned around and noticed a guy your age with flustered cheeks, wide eyes and heavy breathing staring at you. You understood that he was speaking to you and the gears in your head turned upon realizing who he might be.
“You must be Y/n, am I right?” he asked and you moved closer to him, flashing him a smile. “And you must be the guy who was supposed to pick me up. Mark, I guess?” you asked him back and he offered you a boyish grin. That was cute.
He walked towards you and lifted one of your suitcases. He went to grab the other one too but you stopped him, taking it yourself. “Look, I’m so sorry for keeping you waiting. I know I have no excuse but trust me, when I tell you the traffic in Vancouver is a mess, I really mean it,” he apologized as he began walking towards the airport’s parking lot. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/n,” he said in English, his tone revealing the sincerity of the words he uttered.
“Don’t apologize, I’m the one who should be sorry,” you followed him, trying to match his pace but you realized that he was walking quite fast and with the suitcase weighing you down, you had difficulty catching up with him. “I told Yerim I could manage on my own, but she was so persistent. I didn't want to be a burden,” you apologized. “It’s nice to meet you, too,” you said in English too, just like he did earlier. Mark turned to catch a glimpse of you, smiling at the sound of you switching to the country’s language. His smile didn’t last long; it was replaced by his widening his eyes when he saw how far behind him you actually were.
He stopped to wait for you and when you finally caught up, he stretched his free hand to take your other suitcase from your hand, muttering ‘Give me that, I got this’ under his breath.
Mark sighed as he resumed walking. “I guess you can’t really argue with Yerim, huh?” he asked in English but this didn’t take you by surprise. You decided to start using your English more from now on, since you’ll be needing it more often now.
As soon as you reached the parking lot, Mark stopped at a gray Audi 100 and put your suitcases on the ground as he searched inside his jacket pockets to find the keys. “You own a car?” you asked him in English and he took a double take at you before smiling. “It’s actually my brother’s,” he said as he opened the car trunk, putting your suitcases inside. “I asked him to borrow it, he said no, but I took it anyway,” he said, closing the trunk and you laughed at his nonchalance.
Mark walked towards the driver’s door to unlock the car and quickly stepped inside, unlocking the door at the passenger’s seat from inside so you could get in. He carried such an easy-going and comfortable aura around him, cracking jokes and making you feel welcome even though you only knew him for a few minutes. He was talkative, extroverted and seemed nice. Right away, you knew that reading into him wouldn’t be that difficult, his facial expressions betrayed every single emotion he carried in his heart and you only got that from one simple conversation. He was the exact opposite of Jaemin. But you didn’t know why you felt the sudden urge to specifically compare these two boys with each other.
After your last encounter with Jaemin before Christmas holidays, you didn’t see him or speak to him again. You did not go back to Seoul, but neither you or him made an attempt to contact each other and you weren’t sure why. You didn’t like the way your last encounter with him ended. At that moment, you thought that he was being utterly selfish for speaking to you like that. But looking back at it now, you can see how it must have looked like from his point of view. A person you grew so close with leaving you for a semi-long period of time. It must be as hard for Jaemin as it is for you, even though he is the one who stayed behind. Yerim and Jisung also noticed that Jaemin was distancing himself from them, but they did their best to cheer him up as much as they could.
You missed him. And you missed your friends too. But you missed Jaemin differently because he was more than just a friend. And things became even more complicated because he was less than a lover. This confusing situation between the two of you was becoming a mess, and since neither of you would open up to each other, you thought that maybe taking some distance from one another would be for the best. It was times like this when Jaemin became unreadable, and no matter how close you two were, his deepest thoughts still remained unexplored and far away from the surface.
The sound of a car honk shook you out of your reverie and you were reminded of your surroundings and the person waiting for you inside the car. You skipped towards the right sight of the car and opened the door to the passenger’s seat, stepping inside.
“Everything okay out there?” Mark asked you as he revved up the engine. “Yes,” you responded, wearing your seatbelt, “it’s just that it just hit me that I’m in a foreign country, away from my family and stuff, you know?” you said and Mark nodded, turning on the air conditioning of the car as he reversed the car to drive off the parking lot. The car engine made a loud noise as Mark pressed on the gas, and you guessed that it might be due to the weight it carried and the high temperature of the air condition. The car wasn’t in its best condition anyway.
“That’s how I first felt when I came here,” Mark shrugged, looking at his rear view mirror, “it’s hard at first, but you get used to it. When you’ll have to go back, you won’t even want to leave,” he told you and you smirked, thinking that this scenario is highly likely to happen.
“Yerim forgot to mention what your field of studies is,” Mark initiated the conversation and you realized that comfortable silence wasn’t something he enjoyed.
“I study fashion design,” you said and his mouth dropped open, eyes never leaving the road ahead of him. “No shit!” he exclaimed and you giggled at the sight of his surprised expression, his cartoon-like eyes so wide you thought they would fall off his face any second now. “Damn, I should have worn something better then,” Mark said as he briefly eyed his outfit and you burst into a fit of laughter. “Don’t worry, I don’t dress my kind either,” you said and he giggled playfully, the sound making you take a better look at him.
You could only see his side profile now but you managed to take a quick good look at his face earlier. His eyes had a bambi shape and were a deep shade of brown, carrying a youthful spark in them almost resembling a starry night. His features were sharp, cheekbones popping out and jawline clean-cut as a knife. His small nose had a faintly red undertone to it due to him previously being in the cold for a long time. His thin lips were slightly parted as he stirred the wheel on a crossroad, revealing a set of small teeth that looked a bit crooked from the side, even though you noticed earlier that they are not. His hair was a natural dark brown-black shade, his wavy bangs falling into his eyes in a bowl-cut shape, even though you could see the clean-shaved undercut from the side. As he turned his head to speak to you, you also noticed the uneven shape of his eyes, which added some uniqueness and personality in his looks. Even though he didn’t look like the type of guy you usually found attractive, this particular combination of features in his visuals made him look interestingly adorable.
“That’s true, those fashion majors are kinda loud with their outfit choices. I wouldn’t guess you majored in fashion because, no offense to those crazy-dressed people, you dress normally,” Mark said and you narrowed your eyes at him, sparing him a soft chuckle.
“You didn’t mention what you are studying,” you said, eager to know more about him as his sense of humor and witty responses piqued your interest to the fullest.
“I study literature,” he said and he didn’t miss your surprised expression because he turned his head again, grinning at you with confused eyes. “Wh-What’s wrong with that?” his question sounded genuine, but also hinted at a nervous undertone.
“This is so cool!” you exclaimed and you saw him visibly relax. Just when you thought he was just a fun guy to hang around with, he became one of the coolest people you know with this simple statement.
Mark giggled nervously, eyes back on the road. “Not gonna lie, you had me there for a second. I thought you would find me weird or something,” he said and you rolled your eyes at his response.
“Are you kidding me? I love literature! It’s so cool that you major in it. I actually write small poems from time to time,” you confessed and it was Mark’s turn to widen his eyes and open his mouth in surprise. Again.
Indeed you loved literature and you did write poems, that was true. Those little things you called poems were just all your emotions poured into words in a piece of paper. When Jaemin called you a poet, you immediately denied this title but you knew better than everyone that he was kinda right. Yet your poems were just for you and not many people knew about them. You couldn’t pinpoint what exactly it was that made you open up to Mark so much already, but you just felt safe with him. Similarly to how Jaemin made you feel. You revealed to Mark a part of yourself with so much ease, yet it took you longer to talk to Jaemin about your silly notebook.
Why do I keep comparing Mark to Jaemin?
“Damn, you write poems? Dude, you gotta show me someday. I’m more of a novelist but that’s just too pretentious to admit,” Mark was laughing away both his nervousness and excitement, code-switching between English and Korean. The glimmer in his eyes couldn’t go unnoticed either and you just found his speaking habits cuter and cuter.
I can’t show you my poems, but I like your enthusiasm, you wanted to tell him but you couldn’t. You just nodded instead.
Mark slowed down his driving speed, swerving into a parking lot outside a tall building with plenty of small windows, which you assumed were the dorms. “Well, you know what? I’m actually mad at Yerim now, she didn’t mention that you were so cool,” Mark said and you felt your cheeks burning at his comment.
“I’m mad at her too because how could she forget such an important detail?” you said and Mark parked the car just before he burst into a shrieking laughter, the loud volume of which made you wince. What a weirdly charming guy.
Mark turned off the engine of the car. Pulling up the hoodie of his jacket, he opened the door to step outside, immediately moving to the back of the car to open the trunk and take out your suitcases. You got out of the car too, closing the door carefully behind you. The door made a soft clicking noise and you stared at it confused. “It needs a little more pressure to close properly, here,” Mark said when he noticed your baffled face and stepped closer to you, stretching out his arm to grab the door handle. You took a step back,distancing yourself from him. The sudden proximity of his body to yours made your cheeks blush. Despite the freezing atmosphere, Mark radiated a comfortable warmth that couldn’t explain. Pulling the handle, Mark slammed the car door shut with a loud thud. You shut your eyes momentarily at the sound and Mark turned to you with a sly grin across his face. “That’s how it’s done. You could say she likes it a little rough,” he joked and your face was boiling hot at how explicit he was with his jokes. Maybe it’s a cultural thing.
Closing the trunk shut, Mark handed you your suitcases and gestured at the tall building behind you. “So here’s where you’ll be staying. My dorms are down the street, just a five-minute walk from here. If you ever need anything, you will find me at the 7th building, room 200. So,” he trailed off, “we’ll be in touch?” he offered you a tight lipped smile and you nodded.
“We’ll be in touch” you confirmed. Lifting your suitcases, you turned on your heel towards the entrance to your new experiences of your student life. “Will you be okay with these? I can help!” Mark shouted and you turned your head while still walking. “I’m fine! Go get some rest Mark, you deserve it. Thanks a lot for today!” you said and you turned your head back quickly, missing the wide smile that spread across Mark’s face and the sparkle that lit up inside his eyes.
Upon entering the 15 square meter room that was supposed to be your home for the next five months, you dropped your suitcases on the floor, putting off unpacking for later. Shuffling through your backpack, you pulled out a pen and the small notebook, a couple of its pages creased. You searched for a blank page, sitting cross-legged on the carpet of the tiled floor, lifting up your knee as a supporting surface to place your notebook. Taking off the cap of the pen with a pulling of your teeth, you scribbled on the page to warm up the ink of the pen, before you started pouring out your thoughts.
have you ever noticed how all snowflakes are different?
shape, size, design, even color,
intricate is their form, sculpted in detail and care,
you will find not one that looks like another —
their beauty lies in their uniqueness.
“what’s the strangest snowflake you’ve ever seen?”
“one that delicately landed suddenly on my cheek;
its texture unusual, its form not as elaborate as the others,
yet once i picked it up with the softest brushing of my finger,
i realized that it was the most beautiful snowflake of all”
Sunday, January 11th, 1998
The first snow of winter had already fallen in Seoul weeks ago. The white season was already in the midst of it, crossing its deepest parts with the temperatures dropping to the lowest degrees of the latest days. Jaemin found this coldness excessively present, as his heart has been frozen ever since Christmas.
Jaemin hadn’t talked to you since your last encounter before Christmas holidays, which ended in an emotional argument. Ever since that day, he kept feeling guilty of the way he spoke to you; he wished he could turn back time to relive that moment with you, filter his words better and tell you all the things he couldn’t bring himself to say that day. All because he was scared.
The sentences he spoke that day kept on pondering all over his brain, over and over again. No matter what he did to distract his thoughts, everything came back to that painful day. ‘You will forget about me’. ‘You don’t really want to pursue this career’. Even though he truly felt everything he said, he deeply regretted every time he recalled in his memory your tear-stained face and the thought that he had hurt you.
Jaemin was scared of losing you. Despite being popular and hanging out with large groups of people, he had difficulty getting substantially closer to other people, opening up to them and allowing them to see his true self, allowing them to discover his inner world and feeling like he didn’t have to hide things or pretend to be someone that he’s not. All it took from you was a look of sincerity from your bright eyes, a genuine smile promising him that everything is going to be alright and a touch of your tender hand to know how much you loved him.
Jaemin was sure of it. You didn’t have to say anything; he could sense it all. He viewed people as pictures; people are just moving images, they don’t have to make a single sound to express what they want. A careful look at their body language was all it took to reveal a plethora of things that words could never describe.
You didn’t have to say anything for him to know how you felt about him. Or maybe he was trying to excuse himself and justify his delusions, because his feelings for you were probably even stronger. He was sure that somewhere in that little notebook you carried, scribbled with messy letters on a random page you flipped open, was where your feelings for him were laying. He once tried to take a peek at it, in hopes of finding what he wanted. Fortunately, he soon realized that what he was about to do was a violation of your privacy.
He regretted how he handled the announcement of your departure. He wished he could express his happiness more, he wished he had told you all his worries in a more intimate way, he wished he didn’t storm off like that, he wished his anxiety didn’t realize as anger but as love, he wished he could tell you how much you meant to him. Whatever he did, the result would be the same; you would still leave. He just wished you didn’t leave thinking he was mad at you for doing so.
It wasn’t too late to make things up. Looking at the clock on his nightstand, Jaemin realized that you would have probably already landed in Canada. He was counting down the hours, keeping notes of the different time zones. He refused to go to sleep without knowing you had arrived safe and sound. He hated the fact that you were so far away from him. Just when he had you so close to him, he lost you in a slip of time. His growing fear of people leaving him behind kept on becoming reality with every single encounter he had in his life. No matter what you promised him, and no matter that he knew you would always keep that promise, a part of him creeping up like a little devil on his shoulder knew that eventually you would get tired of him and leave.
Pulling the drawer of his nightstand, Jaemin took out a picture and studied it, a precious smile appearing on his solemn face. The picture he took of you that day the both of you were sick. There was so much movement and color in this photo; your nose looked exactly like Rudolf’s, your eyes were puffy from your lack of sleep due to your difficulty to breathe properly, your mouth opened in a weird way because he snapped the picture while you were talking. A normal person would find you completely appalling, yet Jaemin treasured this photo in his heart because through the lens of his own eyes, you were the most beautiful person he had ever seen.
This is exactly how he felt. If anyone would ask him how he felt about you, he would show them this exact picture. All his emotions were captured perfectly in this random snapshot of your life with him. A single moment in time hiding an entire relationship only available to the two of you. No one else would understand. No one but you and him.
Jaemin hated himself for keeping distance from you. The physical distance was hard enough to deal with on its own, but the mental distance was what killed him the most. He wished you knew how much he loved you, how much he appreciated you and how much he hoped that one day he could say all of this without fear of rejection. Your actions were enough for him to understand that the same feelings he had for you were reciprocated, yet the constant fear of misunderstanding held him back from acting on his emotions.
He needed to take small steps at a time. With you being in Canada and Jaemin being in Korea, he wanted to, at least, get you to start talking to him again. Jaemin realized that he was in the wrong, it was his responsibility to make things right. He thought his reactions were justified then, but now he had no excuse for excluding you from his life before you even did anything to leave from it.
I don’t have my way with words, but I will try, he thought, keeping mental notes of what he would say to you first thing tomorrow morning in his attempt to compose a readable email. Jaemin drifted away to a lovely, peaceful sleep, one he hadn’t had in weeks, dreaming of you and only you.
Saturday, February 21st, 1998
Mark’s lips were softly pressing on yours, moving rhythmically in a slow yet passionate motion, his hand gently cupping your cheek. You played with his hair, tangling your fingers between short strands falling at the back of his head and scratching the nape of his neck in between. You had been kissing nonstop for over 20 minutes now, and the temperature of his room started feeling warmer than before.
Pulling away from Mark’s lips with a last loud smooch, you let your head fall slightly back, breathing heavily through your mouth. Mark opened his eyes in surprise, his bottom lip, swollen and pink, falling into a nervous frown. “Everything okay, love?” he asked in a raspy tone, his hand falling from your face and dropping to his side.
You smiled. “I got kinda tired there, Mark. I felt like I was suffocating,” you said, fanning yourself with your hands to create some air.
Mark’s expression turned into a smug one. “I really took your breath there, huh? Sorry, love,” he smirked and leaned closer to you, pressing a soft peck on your temple before wrapping his arm around the small of your back. The familiarity of his touch spread warmth all over your body, the scent of his freshly washed clothes calming the storm inside your mind as you let yourself melt into his embrace. The old bed inside his dorm squeaked at the sudden movement of your body.
You and Mark had been dating for a week. He asked you to be his girlfriend on Valentine’s Day, cliché. But you found this action extremely adorable and that was purely because it was Mark Lee the one who did it.
The two of you had gone out initially as friends, to comfort each other for being single on the day of love. For the past month you were in Vancouver, Mark was the only person you came this close with. While you were hanging around large groups of exchange students from all over the world, none of them stuck with you the way Mark did. He was there for you all the time, helping you adjust to the new place at first, introducing you to his friends and keeping you company during lunch and dinner so that you wouldn’t have to sit and eat alone. He was always there.
You hadn’t realized your growing feelings for him until the moment he blurted out the question. “Y/n, will you be my girlfriend?” That’s all he said. He didn’t have to say anything more. It was something in the way his bambi eyes glimmered under the streetlamp that illuminated the sharp features of his adorable face, his crispy delicate voice asking you with so much tenderness hiding in his tone, the snow falling and landing in tiny snowflakes on his damp wavy bangs. Mark looked at you as if he treasured you in his eyes and heart; he waited patiently for your response, taking in your appearance as if he was taking a picture with his eyes. For the very first time in a month, it was the only day you didn’t think about Jaemin at all.
You said yes in an instant. Mark scooped you up in his arms, laughing awkwardly at the disbelief of what had just happened. He spun you around in the snow, holding you tight in his arms and wishing you would never let go. He was beaming with happiness and his radiant energy transferred to you, smiling so wide your cheeks went numb. The moment your lips touched, you were sure that this day was the warmest day of winter.
That night, Mark took you back to your dorm, not being able to let you go until you closed the door to your apartment. That very same night, you filled your notebook with poems. You stayed up all night, pouring yourself on the paper, the pen in your hands running fast across the lines of the pages, filling the blank space with nothing but emotions. All the things you kept bottled up inside your heart finally resonated in your mind. The realization hit you like a snowstorm, there was a tornado of emotions building up inside you all along, and it took one simply phrased question from Mark to let it all out.
The last time you were standing on a snowy street was back in December in Seoul, when Jaemin left you alone with the coldest heart and stalactite tears. This painful memory, although very recent, was luckily replaced by one of the happiest experiences you’ve ever had, when Mark confessed his feelings for you on the snowy streets of Vancouver.
You didn’t like to compare Mark to Jaemin. But at the same time, the comparison was unavoidable. Everything Mark was, Jaemin wasn’t. The two of them were comically the opposite of the other and you couldn’t help but notice the different versions of yourself that each one of them brought out. While Jaemin was steadily trying to open you up to the best version of yourself, Mark was highlighting the already existing good version.
You hated how much alike you and Jaemin were, you only realized this once you warmed up to Mark. When you first met Jaemin, you were instantly attracted to him because of how different from you he seemed. The confident aura around him, the smugness he carried himself with, his flirty nature were all characteristics you would never have. Once you got close to him, though, you realized that he was so much more than what he presented himself to be. And the fact that both of you had issues communicating with other people made you so similar in character that everything else didn’t matter.
You shared the same mindset with Jaemin, but your views of the world were different. He offered you his own perspective of things, and you offered him yours. You would spend hours bickering about your different opinions which most of the time resulted in Jaemin convincing you to view things from the brighter side. Yet your beliefs originated from the same place; an overly romanticized view of the world.
You and Jaemin were polar opposite when it came to everything else but the emotional aspect of your personalities. Both of your inability to communicate in a healthy way was probably the reason why you couldn’t understand each other, even after you became so comfortable around each other’s presence. Perhaps your expressing of your emotions wasn’t as transparent as you thought it was.
Maybe this was the reason why you found such comfort in Mark now. You hadn’t heard of Jaemin in months. The only updates you had of him were through Yerim and Jisung, who claimed that Jaemin was hanging out less with them now and that he became suspiciously introverted. They also told you that Jaemin asked about you a lot, but they couldn’t figure out why he didn’t ask you directly about your wellbeing.
That’s why Mark was a big emotional support for you. You weren’t as open with him as you were with Jaemin, but part of it was probably because Mark was so expressive and open to talk about everything he thought or felt. He made communication so much easier this way, so you were content with keeping things to yourself, like you always have, and the only one who had access to your emotional state was you and the silly poem-filled notebook.
Mark was slowly dragging his fingers down your hair, as you rested your head on his shoulder. “What’s on your mind, love?” Mark said, his eyes searching your thoughtful ones.
“Nothing,” you replied nonchalantly, eyes vacant staring at nothing in particular.
Mark leaned his head to meet your face, seeing your empty expression. “Alright, there’s clearly something bothering you, so tell me, talk to me,” Mark said, gently lifting your head to meet him at eye level.
“You know I’m not good with that stuff, Mark,” you said and he huffed. “I know, but please. There’s nothing to be afraid of, I’ll listen,” Mark encouraged you and you found him cute for trying to help you speak your mind, even though his attempts were completely useless.
You remained silent for a few seconds. Sighing, opening and closing your mouth, Mark noticed your discomfort and the struggle to speak. Cupping your face with the palms of his flimsy hands, he turned your face towards him. “I know this is hard for you, so let’s play a game. I like to call this game, ‘what color is your emotion’,” he said and you giggled loudly.
Mark scrunched his nose as a tight-lipped smile appeared on his face. He let go of your face and grabbed your hands, resting them on top of his lap as he drew circles around the back of your hands with his thumb. “So, tell me,” he started, “what color is your emotion?” he asked, the smile still evident in his small face.
You thought hard about it. Searching all over Mark’s room, you tried to find the color that best described your state of emotions at that moment. Mark’s room was full of personality, unlike Jaemin’s. He had painted the walls himself a shade of light beige, adorned with posters of his favorite superheroes along with quotes he cut out from his literature books. The chair of his desk was piled up with worn clothes he didn’t have the time to wash and his shoes were all lined in the small empty space between his desk and the moldy wall. The bookshelves hanging above the desk were filled with books and comics, which he had organized so neatly it reminded you of a library. Beside the creaky bed covered in a plaid blanket, he kept his beloved acoustic guitar. The building was old, but Mark had managed to bring out some freshness through his personal touches.
“My emotion right now is blue,” you said after a while and Mark gulped, his previously smiley face turning stone cold.
“B-But I thought you were having fun,” he trailed off, moving his hands away from yours. “Did I do anything wrong?” he asked, worried.
You smiled and shook your head, taking his hands in your again. “No, silly. I don’t mean blue as sad. Although I think there’s some melancholy in how I’m feeling. I miss home sometimes. But I meant blue as in calm. Did you know that blue can also symbolize calmness and serenity?” you said and Mark looked at you completely baffled.
“Yeah, I knew that, but that’s not the first thing that came to mind,” Mark said. “I’m glad you feel calm with me, and I’m sorry you miss home”.
“You know,” you said after a couple of seconds, “I never saw blue as a happy color. It always carried so much sadness for me. A friend of mine told me it can mean calmness too. He says it’s supposed to bring you peace and tranquility,” you said and Mark smirked.
“He? You didn’t mention any friends other than Yerim and Jising,” he said and you smiled. “Well, yeah, it just wasn’t brought up. His name is Jaemin. Although we haven’t talked in months so things are a bit weird between us,” you said and Mark got up from the bed, moving to sit at his desk chair, throwing a pair of pants on the floor to make room for him to sit.
“So…Nothing happened between you and him? Like, romantically,” Mark asked, crossing his arms in defense. You laughed awkwardly, putting a strand of hair behind your ear. This question was more complicated to answer than what he thought.
“No” you said sternly, a tone you used more to convince yourself rather than Mark. “He’s just a friend. Nothing else,” you said. Liar.
Mark’s shoulders visibly relaxed, but something in his eyes betrayed his true thoughts. It was the first time you had ever mentioned Jaemin to Mark, but you didn’t think he would feel threatened by another guy. His eyes were filled with flames.
“It’s my turn now,” you said with a sigh, grabbing the spider pillow on Mark’s bed and throwing it playfully at him. Mark’s reflections were fast, catching it in the air with one hand. “What color is your emotion?” you asked, voice hinting a glimpse of fear.
He placed the pillow on his lap and looked at you with the same perplexed eyes he had earlier, gritting his teeth, before speaking with the raspiest tone.
“Dark green”.
Tuesday, March 17th, 1998
“What’s with all this gloominess, lover boy?” Yerim asked Jaemin, flicking her finger at his forehead to grab his attention. Jisung, although busy and occupied with doodling random things on the page margins of the book he was trying to read, winced at the sharp tapping sound.
“Nothing really to smile about,” Jaemin said, shrugging, his eyes focused on nothing in particular, void of any sign of emotion.
Yerim started laughing hysterically, hitting Jaemin’s shoulder during her laughing outburst. Jisung hesitantly looked up from his book, smiling awkwardly in an attempt to catch up with what was going on between his other two friends, muttering a soft ‘what happened’ with a breathy voice.
Jaemin didn’t flinch at all with Yerim’s reaction. He started twiddling his thumbs, lowering his sorrowful gaze at his lap, trying to avoid the confrontation that was about to come.
Ever since Jaemin found out about your relationship with Mark, he’s had a hard time enjoying himself in life. As dramatic as it sounded, when he found out that Mark wasn’t just a friend but he was your boyfriend, he realized that whatever it was he was feeling for you ran deeper than he thought. He tried to capture this feeling with pictures. Carrying his camera with him everywhere he went, he took pictures of whatever he felt like was mirroring his current emotional state, even if it was the most random object or place or person or food or clothes. Looking back at his collection of photos, all his recent ones captured, in one way or another, the exact same feeling; heartbreak.
Jaemin was punishing himself for feeling heartbroken. He tried to convince himself he didn’t have the right to feel this way. He never had you in the first place. He blamed himself for not making good use of all the time he had with you to express himself more clearly. He hated himself for being so selfless back then, and he hated himself for being so selfish now.
Jaemin never sent you that email he wrote. He was afraid of you feeling repulsed by him. He didn’t have any excuse for his behavior, and by sending you a crappy email of him trying to apologize he thought it made him seem desperate and insincere. He kept putting it off, saying that one day he’ll find the courage to do it. He missed you more than he wished to admit, and it was killing him that he couldn’t have you near him either physically or mentally. Once Yerim broke the news of you having a boyfriend in Canada, it was a complete dealbreaker.
He didn’t have to voice out his feelings for you. His reactions to things betrayed everything. Yerim very easily caught on to how Jaemin was feeling for you, although she was a bit ignorant about it at first. After Yerim confronted Jaemin about it, he started hanging out with her and Jisung again, and even grew much closer with them too. They liked Jaemin. They realized he was actually very good company, like you had said, and started to see the side of him you always talked to them about. Even Jisung became comfortable around Jaemin to the point they had no problem teasing each other about nonsense.
Yet your absence was sensed deeply. Yerim, although very close with Jisung and slowly becoming close with Jaemin, missed the feeling of having her girl best friend around. Jisung missed his friend who acted like his good older sister who counterbalanced the evil big sister nature that Yerim radiated. Jaemin, most of all, missed the person who highlighted the best of him and the person he fell madly in love with.
The group of friends was having a picnic at the campus’ hill. Yerim said that the first sunny day of spring needed to be celebrated. March graced himself with the usual weather instability, with the cold nights and rainy mornings which mostly resembled autumn rather than spring. Every single day of March it had been raining non stop, the rain drops falling from dark clouds covering the vastness of blue placidity that usually describes the sky, transforming the atmosphere into an abyssal calamity that could only be stopped by the sun’s miraculous appearance. Jaemin thought about how much the weather inspired you and smiled bitterly to himself thinking about the connotations you would make when you related the weather with your feelings. It’s a habit he adopted too when he considered the pictures he took.
Jaemin cleared his throat, interrupting Yerim’s laughing outburst. “Don’t laugh, Yerim. You know how much I miss her. She’s probably hanging out with this Mark guy now, and he’s probably telling her jokes which she pretends to find funny. And if we take into account that it’s night time in Canada now, I don’t even wanna think about what they could be doing,” he said, his monotonous voice making Yerim laugh even harder. Jisung brought his fist to mouth, covering a stifled laugh that threatened to come out.
“People can do the thing you think about even during the day, virgin. Even Jisung knows this,” Yerim told Jaemin in between her laughs and Jaemin glared at her. “I’m not a virgin, you know,” he said but Yerim dismissed him. Yerim earned a surprised glare from Jisung too, who was called out without even saying a single word.
Yerim sighed, reaching over to Jaemin to rub his back gently. He visibly relaxed at the touch of comfort, taking a deep breath and raising his head to look up at the gloomy sky mirroring his feelings, batting his long eyelashes to prevent his own downpour falling from his cloudy eyes. “I miss her too, you know,” Yerim said and Jaemin nodded.
“I was the one who convinced to go follow her dreams and now I’m complaining about her being on the other side of the world,” Jaemin said in a low voice after a few beats, and the two friends nodded. “Why am I sad now? I should be happy for her, this is all so selfish. I keep thinking about everything I told her before she left and I just wish I could take it all back, I was being mean because I was scared of losing her,” he continued his confession and Yerim leaned her head on his shoulder, pouting.
“You know what, Jaem,” Yerim started, raising her head to look at her friend, “fuck the past. You keep thinking about the past like it’s something you can erase and rewrite. But you can’t, so let it go. You said things you didn’t mean and it was all a projection of your fears. So instead of whining about it, think about ways to make it up to her,” she said and Jisung hummed, widening his eyes in surprise at the girl’s unexpected wise piece of advice.
“What if she stays with that other guy? What if he treats her better and she loves him more?” Jaemin’s jealousy made him insecure, his eyes burning with anger and the threatening falling of tears.
“Dude, if she loves you, she’ll come around. I’m sure she will,” Jisung said with confidence that even took himself aback and everyone else nodded in agreement.
Tuesday, April 21st, 1998
“Let us go then, you and I, / When the evening is spread out against the sky / Like a patient etherized upon a table;” the middle-aged woman started reciting and you let yourself get lost in the words.
Despite the weather being deep into spring, the only thing resembling the blossoming season was the sun peaking through the freshly cleaned window, hitting Mark’s concentrated face in a way it turned his eyes into pools of honey. His hair, grown out of the boyish undercut he had when you first met him, was longer now, brushing the nape of neck.
You were sitting next to each other cross-legged with your big plaid scarf spread above your legs. The temperatures were significantly higher than they were in winter, yet the Canadian mountain climate was sensed even inside the back room of the cozy café. It wasn’t as good as ‘Caramel Craze’, but it was the one that came closest to the feeling your comfort place back in Seoul gave you.
You and Mark decided to join a book club three weeks ago. At the end of each week, the book club would meet at different spots around Vancouver and every member would read a poem or a passage from a book, give recommendations and start discussions around different literary pieces. Even though this wasn’t related to your field of studies, being surrounded by people who valued literature and its craft as much as you did filled you with happiness and content you couldn’t find in anything else, not even in fashion design.
“That was ‘The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock’, hope you enjoyed it,” the middle-aged woman finished reciting her poem of choice and everybody clapped as she sat down on the floor.
“Did you know this poem?” Mark whispered towards you, pushing his glasses further into his face because they had slid down his nose. You shook your head and he couldn’t help but crack a smile at your wowed expression. The poem was beautiful.
As soon as the applause came to an end, you raised your hand to ask permission to speak. The coordinator of the book club was a girl only a few years older than you. As you waited for her to notice you, you carefully scanned her outfit which was particularly creative today, keeping mental notes of it so that you could draw something similar later.
“I find the message behind this poem devastatingly beautiful,” you started after you were given permission. A few people hummed positively, urging you to continue. Mark’s warm gaze was fully attended to you, crossing his arms in anticipation of what you were about to say.
“All of the speaker’s anxieties and preoccupations of his inner life, his romantic hesitations and regrets, everything was voiced out so beautifully to the point it becomes devastating. Hence my description,” you said, averting your gaze to your lap. “I loved the line ‘Do I dare / Disturb the universe? / In a minute there is time / For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse’, I think it perfectly captures fate and our inability to change it because everything can have a different outcome depending on what time brings and what time cannot take back. I don’t know, I think it’s perfectly worded,” you said and noticed a few approving looks at the other book club members’ faces.
Turning towards Mark, you noticed a ridiculously wide smile plastered across his small face, to the point you didn’t think a person could smile this wide. “Wow,” he breathed out, “you’re becoming even better than me. Are you sure you don’t wanna pursue this thing professionally?” he joked and you giggled, yet something in your heart sank for a moment.
“I just expressed what the poem made me feel,” you said. And it was true. You and Mark were spending so much time together to the point you were inseparable. You were surprised how neither of you had grown sick of one another at this point. Most of the time, you would spend hours cramped up inside either of your dorm rooms, reading and writing poems and songs for hours in between hot makeout sessions and other things. You grew so close to him to the point neither of you hid anything from each other. Ever since you talked to him about your confessional poetry notebook and your struggle with expressing yourself, Mark has made the impossible things possible to help you be at peace with your emotional world and be open with what you feel.
Part of the reason why he suggested that the two of you joined a book club was to see your progress become tangible. You had become profoundly open with him, and his encouraging words kept you wanting to keep on trying more and more. Mark thought that being in a safe space, where you felt the most comfortable in, you would manage to overcome this suppressing state. Once again, like in many other things, he was right.
A man with his little son started reading a passage from a children’s book and his soothing tone made your eyelids flutter as you stifled a yawn. Mark gently wrapped his arm around your waist, bringing you a bit closer to him. You nuzzled your nose against the fuzzy fabric of his sweater, which smelled like a mix of detergent, Mark’s cologne and a slight scent of his skin. He noticed that you started getting sleepy, something that was always betrayed by your clinginess, and he moved his arm to stroke your hair and your back as you rested your head on his chest. An old lady noticed your affectionate state and flashed a warm smile at Mark. He returned the kind gesture before leaning to plant a soft kiss on your forehead.
Mark’s attention was back at the man reading the book, trying his best to make sense of what the story was about based on the context. As you were laying on his chest, the faint sound of his steady heartbeat acted as a lullaby, becoming the background music for the thoughts that occupied your tired brain. As much as the warmth of Mark’s body calmed you down and eased your consciousness, it brought your senses into reality at the same time. No matter how much you wanted to freeze frame this moment and forever stay in his arms, you knew that sooner or later this moment would come to an end and eventually cease to exist. You would have to go back home.
Defining home has become difficult for you now. Your whole life, your home was Seoul. Home was your family back in Korea, your best friends for life Yerim and Jisung, Jaemin. You remember how hard it was for you to let them go, but you knew that your leaving was only temporary and you would soon go back to them, go back home.
Yet home took a different face now. Home was engulfed in Mark’s face, who stood by you throughout the journey of finding yourself in the premises of an unknown land. You grew to love Canada, you became used to the habits of Vancouver’s local residents, you met people from all over the world who shared their experiences with you, your horizons broadened in ways you didn’t even imagine they could when you were limited to the restricted views of the place you grew up in. You had grown so used to everything new around you that even the thought of having to go back to Korea at the beginning of summer saddened you.
Your thoughts momentarily fleeted to the face of a boy you held dearly in your heart. You hadn’t spoken to Jaemin in months. Neither of you made any attempt to initiate any type of conversation, so the air between you two remained foggy like a Halloween night. The opaque veil of grey clouds that rested upon you spread all the way across the ocean, reaching the heart of a boy who bore heartbreak without you even knowing.
You hated that Jaemin still had a place in your mind and heart when you knew you loved Mark a lot. You didn’t dare to admit it, you were scared that at times you wished it was Jaemin who kissed you instead of Mark, you wished it was Jaemin the one who you would come home to after your classes and talk about your day, you wished everything that Mark did it was Jaemin in his place. A part of you felt guilty for even thinking this, let alone wanting this, and you despised yourself for betraying Mark’s love and trust like this. Jaemin probably didn’t want to do anything with you after you left things hanging this way, so why even bother with him?
But you had come to terms with the fact that everything you did in Canada would be temporary. The initial fireworks of excitement died down after a couple of months, and reality kept reminding you that all good things come to an end. It would realistically be difficult to maintain a long-distance relationship with a boy on the other side of the globe. You loved Mark but you slowly had to learn how to unlove him. This way leaving would hurt you a bit less.
Mark’s soft caressing of your hair shot waves of safety over your body, the man’s voice reading the book was simply a bedtime story to your ears. Before you slowly drifted away to a peaceful sleep, behind your eyes flashed the image of a certain platinum-haired boy, wishing that it was him holding you to sleep at that moment.
oh how much i love you seoul!
even though i left you
oh how much i miss you!
walking on every filthy pavement in hongdae,
crossing every busy itaewon street,
wandering around every beautiful night in gangnam —
but you left me too.
oh! how many days and nights will i spend without you
so that we can meet again?
your presence is always mirrored
in every place that i see
Friday, May 8th, 1998
The chopsticks he was holding cluttered against each other as he reached down his bowl to grab a bite-sized portion of rice, bringing it hastily to his mouth. He chewed the food obnoxiously, not caring about looking polite or well-behaved, his ears ringing for a reason unknown to him. The girl sitting across from him on the restaurant table hadn’t touched her food yet. She was too busy running her mouth nonstop ever since they arrived at the cozy traditional place.
“So, what do you think about all that, Bun Bun?” the girl asked, batting her eyelashes in anticipation. Jaemin stared at her but his eyes weren’t looking at her. His ears weren’t listening to her. His mind wasn’t present at the moment. He continued chewing his rice, swallowing with a loud gulp. He reached for the glass of water on his left, chugging the cool liquid down his dry throat. With a thud, Jaemin placed the glass on the table, licking his teeth in an attempt to clean them from any remaining food that could be stuck in between. With a click of his tongue, he addressed the girl in front of him for the first time since the food arrived at their table.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Minjeong. You see, I was busy eating. Something you didn’t do because you talk all the damn time,” Jaemin said and the girl rolled her eyes.
“Oh for God’s sake, Bun Bun, I told you about this last week too. Remember my friend Soyeon who was dating that guy from Chemistry whose name I cannot remember now but he wears glasses and his hair is like dyed blonde with a side part and he…” Minjeong started and Jaemin’s ears started ringing again.
For about a month now, Jaemin has been going on dates with a girl from his journalism classes, Minjeong. The girl has been eyeing him for quite some time now, but Jaemin never paid her any attention, neither during classes nor after that. When she found the courage to go up to him and ask him out, both she and Jaemin himself were surprised he actually said yes.
Even more surprised were none other than Yerim and Jisung, whose eyeballs practically fell out of their faces when Jaemin came into ‘Caramel Craze’ holding Minjeong’s hand. Jisung was very curious about how everything happened, but he never cared to ask Jaemin about it, not because he feared his reaction but because it made Jisung himself uncomfortable. He didn’t want to pressure Jaemin to talk about it because he knew that whatever Jaemin’s reason behind this was, he would talk about it once he felt ready. Yerim’s nosy nature, however, urged her to learn as much as she possibly could. One warm spring evening, right before ‘Caramel Craze’ got rid of all its customers at the dusk of day, Yerim yanked Jaemin down a table and began interrogating him.
“What’s up with you?” she snarled, eyes darting him up and down. Jaemin sighed deeply and ran a hand through his hair, preparing himself for Yerim’s upcoming rant.
“Look, I’ll break up with her, okay? Not that we’re actually dating but…” Jaemin trailed off and Yerim’s eyes softened, holding herself back from screaming at him like an overprotective mother once she saw his hands tremble on the table.
“It’s just that I will never have a chance with Y/n. She’s coming back next month but at what cost? I never apologized to her because I’m a coward, and now I can’t bring myself to face her. She has moved on anyway, so I must do the same,” he said and Yerim reached across the table to grab Jaemin’s hands, rubbing soft circles to ease his trembling.
“I’m sorry, Jaem,” she started, “it’s that, I-” Yerim struggled to form her thoughts. She inhaled with her eyes closed and opened them slowly once she exhaled, looking at her friend with a sadness filled with sympathy. “I don’t know if that’s good for you. Of course you can’t wait for Y/n all your life but-” Yerim pressed her lips shut.
“But what?” Jaemin whispered, removing his hands from Yerim’s grip.
“I want both of you to be happy. If you choose to move on, then I won’t stop you. I support both of you and you’d better apologize when Y/n comes back, I can’t stand seeing two of my best friends act like total strangers,” Yerim said and Jaemin flashed her one of his widest and brightest smiles which hid a malicious smirk behind it.
“You think I’m your friend?” he asked her, earning an eye-roll from Yerim as she stood up to leave.
“Jisung has to close up the place, we’d better go. And if you want to move on, at least pick a girl who’s not that annoying,” she said and Jaemin laughed at this remark.
He didn’t really think through Yerim’s advice, dismissing it at the time saying that Minjeong wasn’t that bad. But he started to realize that Yerim was, as always, right after all, and he couldn’t pinpoint what it was exactly that drew him towards Minjeong. He kept regretting asking her out time and time again for dinner when he couldn’t bear listening to her talk. After giving it some thought, Jaemin came to the conclusion that Minjeong was just the only available option for him at the moment.
Jaemin didn’t like the fact that he was leading the girl on. Minjeong was clearly into him and his behavior towards her was inexplicably awful. On the outside, he seemed like the perfect guy any girl could potentially call her boyfriend; he took her out on the regular, he waited for her to finish her classes, held her hand in public and caressed her hair on the weirdly windy days of May to prevent it from getting tangled. On paper, and on image, he was perfect. In fact, however, behind all the nosy eyes running their mouths, Jaemin was trapped in a relationship he forced himself to be in. He was so bored of Minjeong to the point he dreaded spending time alone with her. He had to pretend to be the popular campus crush that everyone else around him always knew him as, and all this acting had him exhausted by the end of the day.
It was very pretentious of him to say this but he became a different person once he met you. It was a blessing and a curse for him. Sometimes he wishes he had never picked up that book for you in the library and sometimes he keeps thinking of the possible turns his life would have taken if he had paid you no mind at all that very same day.
The thought of you tortured him. It pained him that he couldn’t have you anymore, yet he didn’t have the right to think like this because he was the one who messed things up. Now all he could do to make himself feel at least slightly better was to find someone else.
Minjeong was the first person that came to him. Jaemin saw the chance and he took it, wasting no time to ponder over whether he liked her enough or not or if they would be a good match together. None of these things mattered to him; he would learn how to like it, he would eventually grow feelings for her and they would find ways to fit their personalities and interests like pieces of a puzzle and at some point his attraction for Minjeong would grow and grow until his feelings for you became so suppressed and then completely vanished.
This was his plan. But everything Minjeong did, Jaemin would always find a way to compare her to you.
Minjeong kept on rambling about whatever drama she was interested in. She made short pauses to eat a little, although her bites were so small it would take her hours to finish her meal. Jaemin nodded or hummed from time to time in an attempt to show her a little interest, to make her feel that he was present.
Jaemin’s attention shifted for a moment to the world outside, his mind void of any preoccupations, eyes resting on the cherry blossom trees and the people walking around them aimlessly, admiring the beauty of nature. The season of love was at its peak; the flowers were blooming in every corner of Seoul and for a fleeting moment Jaemin wondered how the scenery in front of him would look like through your eyes, through your own lens, through the ink of your pen.
“Bun Bun, can you take some pictures of me?” Minjeong shook Jaemin out of his daydreaming state and he blinked.
With a deep sigh, Jaemin pinched the bridge of his nose, offering Minjeong a sad smile. “Ugh, um- sorry love I don’t bring my camera. I forgot,” he apologized and winced at the use of the pet name he used.
“You never bring it when I ask you to! I swear it’s like you forget it on purpose,” Minjeong whined and Jaemin pressed his lips in a tight smile. “I know, sorry. Promise I’ll bring it next time, okay?” he said, hinting at a hopeful undertone in his voice. He looked at Minjeong tentatively, searching for an answer in her eyes. She held eye contact with Jaemin for a few seconds, her expression stoic and still like a museum painting. Jaemin pouted softly at her and Minjeong rolled her eyes at him for the second time tonight.
“Whatever,” she muttered under her breath and reached for her purse to pull out her lip gloss. Jaemin leaned back to his chair, sighing in frustration at his actions. His gaze rested briefly at his backpack spread next to his lap, the round camera lens staring back at him.
She wouldn’t look as pretty, anyway.
Sunday, May 31st, 1998
“I think we should break up,” you said sharply, exhaling deeply in an attempt to calm the rapid beating of your heart.
Mark’s eyes widened in surprise, and you swore you saw them turn glassy under the artificial lighting of your dorm room. “What?” his voice trembled, searching for your wavering gaze which you averted anywhere you could but his eyes.
“I said we should break up,” you repeated, clearing your throat. You never had to have a talk as hard as this one and you definitely weren’t very happy with the news you had to break into the boy you devoted your whole heart to for the past four months.
“I-I don’t get it,” Mark started, his voice uneasy. “I mean, technology has advanced, like, we can keep in touch even when you’re away, right? I don’t get it,” Mark ran his hands through his hair, pacing around the tiny room which felt to him extremely smaller than he thought it actually was.
“I know,” you started, taking a step closer to him, reaching for his hand. Your fingers felt his touch only for part of a second as they brushed, Mark was too quick to yank his arm back creating distance between the two of you.
His reaction was perfectly reasonable and you expected him to respond the exact way he did; knowing Mark all these months and spending the majority of your time with him, it was safe to say that you knew him like the back of your hand. You were sure he would try to find a solution to the problem, brainstorming even the dumbest ideas just to make things work, just to keep you by his side.
Both of you knew that one day you’d have to go back to Korea and Mark wouldn’t be able to follow along. What he didn’t count for was how soon that day would come.
“Listen, Mark, I know you’re frustrated-”
“You’re still in love with that other guy, aren’t you?” Mark scoffed, giggling out of nervousness.
“Where does that even come from?” you asked, eyebrows drawn.
“I’m not dumb, Y/n, I mean, come on. I’ve seen how your face literally lights up when you talk about him. It doesn’t really take a genius to know,” Mark spared you a glance before he turned around to look outside the window.
It was ironic; in a few hours, May would finish his yearly duties and give his place to June, who would initiate the beginning of summer. The sun wouldn’t set until the early evening, the breeze would be welcoming enough for strolls around the fully bloomed parks and everyone would be carefree, looking forward to a few months of rest and relaxation before the start of the new semester of the academic year. If you didn’t have to leave in two days, you would rather spend your time walking hand in hand with Mark, talking about nonsense. Instead, you called him up to the old dorm room to break things off with him.
You didn’t blame him for reacting this way, you expected it. But you never thought that he would bring up Jaemin. There was no reason for him to do so, but he did anyway and suddenly everything made sense.
Mark was jealous of Jaemin. And it made him feel insecure knowing that you had feelings for both of them.
Which was true. You don’t know how Mark figured it out but he actually knew you better than you knew yourself. He could read through you just as easily as you could read through him. You just weren’t aware of how strong your feelings for Jaemin remained still, that Mark became insecure of your feelings for him. No wonder he thought of Jaemin as the reason you wanted to break up with him.
You couldn’t even lie to Mark about this either. After you mentioned Jaemin once, you found it easier to bring his name up in conversation along with Yerim and Jisung. He was one of your friends after all. Although you doubted he still liked you as a friend, let alone romantically.
You grew to love Mark a lot all these months. It was very hard for you to separate from him too, you didn’t want to break things off but realistically a long-distance relationship wouldn’t work and you were afraid that with Jaemin in your presence back in Seoul, things would be even harder for you to handle. You didn’t want to deceive Mark when clearly your heart was split in two.
You lowered your gaze to your feet, raising them up to your tip toes and back down. You huffed, turning to face Mark’s slouchy figure. Your eyes rested on his shoulders, contemplating whether you should go rub them in comfort or whether this act of affection would stir more hate in him for you.
“I love you too much Mark, it’s best if I let you go,” you said and heat spread all over your reddened face. Mark whipped his head back at the sudden sound of your upright confession. “It’s not the time to admit something like this Y/n, you’re breaking me,” he whispered in a breath.
You noticed a stain on his cheek, like a shadow of a running river with crystal clear waters. You didn’t realise that he was crying. You took a hesitant step towards him, lifting your arm to touch him, feel him any way you could, but you were quick to keep it to yourself.
You softly cleared your throat. Mark wasn’t speaking. “We both knew this wouldn’t last forever, and I hate that it has to be this way because you taught me things about myself. You taught me how to express myself, communicate my feelings, live life without any concerns, follow my dreams and do what makes me happy. I don’t have the words to thank you enough for all of that,” you said and Mark nodded softly, a lingering question falling from his lips.
“So what changed?” was all he said with a desperate sigh.
You didn’t have any good answer to his question. Anything you could come up with at that moment sounded like a lazy excuse. You used distance as the most reasonable one, when in fact the thought of seeing Jaemin again and having all your past feelings for him resurface was what pushed to end things with Mark, even though you were unsure of Jaemin’s feelings for you.
You were willing to take the risk. You were thankful for Mark, you were beyond thankful for everything he taught you about yourself. You learned how to handle your feelings without fear of expressing them and you learned that being loved can be as easy as loving someone, all because of Mark. It was completely and utterly wrong of you to use all of this experience you had with Mark to learn how to love Jaemin easier. You despised yourself for that, having to fully devote your heart to one person when you were confused about who you wanted to devote your heart to.
“I’m so confused, Mark. Honestly. I don’t want you to think I used you because this is not true at all. I'm trying very hard to be optimistic but unfortunately I’m thinking reasonably this time. It’s best if we part ways,” you trailed off the last words.
Mark shook his head, nipping at his bottom lip. Running a hand through his hair, he started pacing in circles around himself. “No, Y/n, I think you’re thinking with your heart right now, because reason would urge you to stay with me. Your heart tells you it belongs to someone else, and this doesn’t happen to be me,” he said, stopping to finally look you in your eyes.
You stood still, frozen in place, keeping your eyes locked with his. In an alternative scenario, Mark would describe you as a newly blossomed flower that didn’t know which way to lean to look at the sun yet. In this scenario, you looked like a stone plaque standing in his way of moving forward.
You opened your mouth to speak but Mark was ahead of you. “I love you, Y/n. And I always will. You taught me things about myself too. For the past five months I’ve known you, I found myself smiling more, looking forward to the new beginnings every morning because I knew I would share all my happiness and sadness with you. We understand each other, Y/n. And because we do, I understand that you are conflicted right now. I respect your decision so that’s why I won’t fight you, I know you won’t change your mind,” he said and you both giggled.
Mark nodded his head a couple of times as if he was having an inner monologue. “I’ll miss you, you know? Promise we won’t be those exes who never speak to each other again. I would hate that. I’d be delighted to hear your news, to know that you are doing well, to know that you are still following your dreams, ” he said and your eyes stung, blurring your vision.
“I promise, Mark. You’re too precious for me to lose you entirely,” you said and he hesitantly took a few steps closer to you. In your current heartbroken state, you believed you would actually manage to keep this promise. But time would eventually heal this wound and you couldn’t bring yourself to say this to Mark.
the prettiest snowflake
melted into the river;
winter into spring
“C-Can I, um, can I at least kiss you, once? One last time,” Mark pleaded you with his eyes and you threw yourself at him, beating him to it by pressing your lips onto his.
Mark responded to your touch in an instant, cupping your face with both of his hands, kissing you back with so much passion it made the kiss look desperate. For a fleeting moment, the entire time you spent with him flashed before your eyes and you felt luckier than ever that you had met a person like him.
You parted your lips for his, breathing heavily into each other’s mouths. You looked at him in his glimmering eyes, before giving him one last peck. “Take care, Mark. I love you,” you whispered, softly caressing his cheek.
Mark nodded and took a step back, grabbing his things to leave. As he approached the door, he stopped in his tracks. “Will he love you like I do?” he asked, locking his eyes with your teary ones.
You thought for a second. “I hope he does. At least I know I love him like I love you,” you said and felt your heart mend, as if the broken pieces found their way back to each other.
Mark smiled softly, reaching the doorknob. “If this is what you truly want, if this is what your heart really aches for and desires, then I won’t dare disturb the universe”.
Wednesday, June 3rd, 1998
The atmosphere around you hung heavy as you walked past the busy crowd of Seoul, making regular breathing feel like exhausting exercise. The humidity of summertime in Korea left a feeling of a thick lump resting on top of your lungs, paired with your baby hairs sticking everywhere around your sweaty face and neck. This type of weather was the thing you were looking forward to the least on your flight back home, but you kept on trying to convince yourself that summer in the city wasn’t as bad as you remembered. The effort, however, wasn’t very successful, as you immediately started reminiscing about the Vancouver frostiness.
The change of environment was sudden; one day you were at the other side of the globe, watching the flowers bloom in a city that thrives in between snowflakes and icy pavements, and the next day you were back to your core roots, sweat accumulating around every hollow place in your body, in a city that thrives in crunchy orange leaves and soft breezes. You came to understand that in life, you always want what you cannot have.
Through the thick atmosphere hanging above you, you tried to trace with your nostrils the scent that lead you to your inner calmness. It had been six whole months that felt like agonizing eternity since you tasted the specific caramel lattes on your tongue, the enjoyable sweetness of the complementary glucose mixed with the comfortable bitterness of the main ingredient of the drink that couldn’t be compared to any other similar recipes in any coffee shop in the world other than ‘Caramel Craze’. Tracing this beloved scent was particularly harder while walking through a sweaty crowd in one of the busiest streets in Seoul.
Since you stepped foot onto Korean ground, it was like everything you experienced in Canada was wiped off your brain storage. On your entire flight back, you read through the notes you kept about everything that happened so that you could fill in both Yerim and Jisung about all the things you saw there without leaving any details out. Reading back your notes helped you refresh your memory, but your brain at that moment only had room for the memories of two boys, split in half.
You had broken off things with Mark only a couple days before your departure. The decision you made was definite, no matter how much it hurt you and the boy whom you devoted your whole mind and soul to for the past five months. You came back home with the sole purpose of reuniting with the person you loved the most, although you had no idea how to approach the situation.
Fate works in mysterious ways. Walking with your head tilted towards the ground, you swayed your ponytail to the side to fan the back of your neck with your palm. Keeping your eyes glued to your feet, careful with your steps, you bumped into a shoulder, sturdy and equally as sweaty as yours. Lifting your head to apologize, you’re met with the eyes that took up the other half of your brain.
You froze in your place as Jaemin stood in front of you, mouth slightly agape due to his surprise upon seeing you, or because of his fast breathing caused by his rapid steps. You couldn’t tell which one it was. Your heart beat anxiously, sweat turning colder at the sight of the boy you were dreading to meet yet looking forward to meeting.
Jaemin looked good, but different. His hair had faded into its natural dark brown color, his skin looked slightly tanner than it did in the winter and his shoulders and chest indicated that he particularly worked on building his muscles even more. The black tank top he was wearing was hugging his torso tightly, arms glistening in sweat under the burning sun. Even though he didn’t look exactly the way you remembered him, the way his eyes shined and the smile he tried to suppress once he took in your figure showed you that he still was the same boy you were in love with.
Jaemin lifted his arms in an open gesture, as if he wanted to pull you into his embrace, but he halted his actions by scoffing, finally breaking into a wide but hesitant smile. “You’re back,” he breathed out.
The sound of his voice immediately helped calm down your rapid heartbeat. You missed him. You missed him more than you could imagine, and it took seeing him in person to realise it. Your eyes creased as the corners of your lips lifted up, greeting him back. “I’m back,” you giggled.
Both of you stayed there. Standing still in the midst of the walking crowd, a scene that gave you déjà vu, reminiscent of the moment you parted ways in winter only to recreate it again when the two of you came back for each other. Jaemin lowered his gaze and you started twiddling your thumbs, thinking of what to do or what to say.
“Liste-” Jaemin started.
“So-” you said at the same time. Both of you stopped your sentences abruptly, giggling at the incident.
Jaemin, with a wave of his arm, gestured towards you. “You can go first,” he said.
“Why didn’t you contact me while I was abroad?” you didn’t waste any second, firing him with the question you always wanted to ask him ever since you stepped foot in your homeland.
Jaemin opened and closed his mouth, sucking in his bottom lip while thinking of what answer to form. An old man passing by yelled something about you blocking the way for those in a hurry, but you didn’t pay him any mind. All you wanted was to hear an answer, any answer that would justify Jaemin’s actions.
“I could say that I was busy with school or that the time zones were weird but that would be the lamest excuse ever and I don’t wanna lie to you. I wasted too much time being a coward that it took me losing you to another guy to realise how much I love you,” Jaemin said in a breath, and you took a small step back, blinking at his blunt and forward confession.
“What are you talking about?” you asked softly, genuinely confused, waiting for an elaborate explanation.
“I’m in love with you, Y/n. I didn’t want you to find out this way but this is exactly the reason I never reached out to you,” he said, wiping the sweat off his forehead.
“T-This d-doesn’t make any sense! At all! You’re confusing me, Jaemin, I…” you trailed off, your turn now to wipe off the sweat caused by your confusion, the humid heatiness of the weather long forgotten.
Jaemin gulped, moving a step forward to close in the gap between your bodies. “The day I invited you over to my dorm room, after we caught a cold because of the heavy rainfall, that’s when I knew. I had fallen in love with you. But I was cherishing your friendship so much I didn’t want to push you away and ruin things if I said anything about it, I was so unsure of your feelings,” he said, taking a deep, shaky breath.
Licking his lips, he continued. “You were so happy when you got the scholarship, it was all you had been thinking about before getting it. And I was rooting for you so much, I always told you how much you deserved it, that you would get it no matter what. But even though I was completely sure you would get it, I hadn’t thought very thoroughly about what I would do once you left,” he said.
Jaemin paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. Looking into your softening eyes, he continued his confession. “That’s why I was such a jerk when you announced it to us, that day in the snow. I-I didn’t know what to do, you were slipping away from me and I was completely losing it. It’s such a selfish thing to say and I only realised how awfully I spoke to you until after you were gone,” he ran his fingers through his hair, composing himself.
“And then,” he let out a big sigh, “I learnt that you had a boyfriend. I tried to be happy for you but, to be honest, I was so fucking jealous. I regretted all the time I wasted not talking to you about my feelings but I knew that it was too late to change anything because you didn’t feel the same, and if you did, you had clearly moved on. I even tried dating other people hoping I would forget about you but it didn’t work. In fact, I just broke up with the girl I was seeing. She was boring as fuck, it took me too long to do it because I wanted to keep trying, I was pushing myself to convince my heart and mind to move on, but the truth is, no else can compare to you Y/n. You’re the one I want. I only had the courage to break things off with that girl today because, in the back of my mind, there was a glimmer of hope that when I see you again and explain everything, you might want to try giving me a chance to make up for things and let me treat you like I’m your actual boyfriend,” Jaemin said, breathing heavily after letting out all the thoughts he kept suppressed all this time.
You waited a moment to fully grasp everything. Jaemin loved you. He had always been in love with you. It took him blatantly confessing to you to realise how much in love with him you were too. You thought that whatever it was you were feeling with Mark was love. You loved Mark too, but the feeling of that love was different than what you're feeling right now about Jaemin. So this, this is what love was supposed to feel like. You just knew.
Sighing with a soft smile, you completely closed the gap between you and Jaemin by grabbing the hem at the collar of his tank top, pushing your lips against his. Jaemin reacted in a millisecond, melting into your touch, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you even closer, as close as it was physically possible. Your arms moved to rest on his shoulders, sliding down to his chest. Your lips moved rhythmically, finally tasting the love he had for you. The high temperature in the atmosphere could not be compared to the heat of the moment the two of you shared.
Pulling away to take a few breaths, you looked at Jaemin’s swollen lips and loving gaze. “You finally talked to me about your feelings,” you said and placed a soft peck on his lips before you lifted your toes up and wrapped your arms around him, resting your head on top of his shoulder. “And you finally showed me yours,” Jaemin said.
You stayed there, closing your eyes to take in his familiar scent, fully grasping the moment. You were finally able to fully open up your mind and soul to the person you felt the closest to. Your heartbeat had calmed down, your breathing was steady and your mind was at ease. You turn to speak into Jaemin’s ear, sending a shiver down his spine due to the proximity of your bodies. Public display of affection was the last thing on your mind at that moment.
“You know, I broke up with Mark thinking I would come back to you. I was hoping you would accept my feelings even though we had drifted apart these months. We’re such huge idiots, huh?” you said and you felt Jaemin’s chest vibrating as he laughed.
“Remember when you asked me if I knew what a ‘blue person’ was?” you asked him and Jaemin furrowed his eyebrows, although you couldn’t see, but you knew. You came back down on your feet to look at him, keeping your arms around his neck. You gave him a bright smile filled with love, a contagious one, as he pressed his own lips into a tight smile. “I didn’t know what it meant, but when you told me, I knew exactly that you were my blue person, Jaemin,” you said and now it was his turn to respond by locking your lips with his.
You were both smiling while pressing small soft kisses onto each other’s mouths. You pulled just a little bit back, enough to meet his loving eyes. “I love you, Jaemin,” you confessed, three words that took all of your strength to come out. Jaemin’s eyes lit up, pressing his nose onto yours. “I know that now,” he said.
Jaemin released himself from you and you whined at the sudden lack of his touch. He noticed and immediately grabbed your sweaty palm, intertwining his fingers with yours. “Come on,” he led the way towards ‘Caramel Craze’, “you have to fill us in with all the details about your studies abroad. Yerim and Jisung will be thrilled,” he said and you leaned into his side, walking together as if not a single day had passed.
you splashed color onto the confused abyss of mine
you shed light onto the maze of my soul
and you let me see the progress of you doing it —
the summer to my winter,
the picture of my thoughts,
the answer to my question
Saturday, September 12th, 1998
September was your favorite month of the year. September usually signaled fresh beginnings and change, blended the warmth of summer and the chill of fall, and was the month during which drinking caramel lattes became the most acceptable.
You were holding a paper cup of hot caramel latte on your hand as you walked with slow steps looking at the different photos displayed around the small exhibition hall, with Yerim and Jisung tailing right behind you, each holding a cup of their own drink of choice.
Today was Jaemin’s first ever photo exhibition. Jisung made sure to have the day off from work so that he and Yerim could attend the opening. Still, the three of you stopped by your beloved coffee shop before heading to the exhibition to equip yourselves with your favorite warm drink.
Summer was slowly fading into fall, yet it still left some remnants of the hot and bright moments you shared with Jaemin. You had been officially dating for three months now, and neither of you intended to back out from this relationship anytime soon. Or ever. It became easier to understand each other now; the initial hesitation of speaking your mind or expressing your emotions which engulfed you in the beginning of your friendship had completely vanished the moment Jaemin broke it with his confession back in June. Both of you still struggled with communication, but as soon as you felt Jaemin’s reassuring hand on your timid one, it was as if your heart was released from the shuckles surrounding it and your tongue spoke the words you always wanted to say.
You showed Jaemin your poems. You opened up your most vulnerable self to him and he let you in, embraced you and held you firmly in his arms, all of you. You made sure to equally act as a safe space for him too, letting him in too and keeping him there, too scared to let go and too much in love to hurt him. You were each other’s person.
Yerim and Jisung’s reaction to your relationship was nonexistent; it’s like they were waiting for the moment you and Jaemin finally admitted to your feelings and let your egos aside just for a moment so that your hearts get what they deserve. You swear you saw Yerim wipe a tear when you announced it to them, but she convinced you that the summer wind brought a grit to her eye.
Over the course of summertime, Jaemin expressed his want to quit journalism and pursue photography as his career. He was so confident in taking this decision. He claimed that something inside him clicked, he just knew what was right for him in every aspect of his life. Journalism was what he thought was his passion, what he would love to do for a living, the career path that was guaranteed to make him happy. But when he held the camera in his hands, looked at the world through the camera lens, through his own eyes, he felt as if he could transform the world into anything he wanted. And this is what made him truly happy.
His rebellious spirit went into your own head and you started contemplating whether fashion design was the career for you. After showing Jaemin your poems, he wouldn’t stop saying how talented you are and how much potential these little drabbles of your thoughts have. You weren’t ready to leave school and everything you had worked so hard for behind, so you convinced yourself to push through college and graduate, even if life has other plans laid out for you later on.
So when Jaemin told you he would host his own photography exhibition, you couldn’t help but feel the happiness he radiated at the sound of this announcement. It was a huge step for him, and he could only do it with your help. “I want you to write the captions to my photos. You are the only one who can capture the essence of an image into such few words,” he told you with glistening eyes and the bright smile you fell in love with. You would never decline this offer.
You were standing in the middle of the exhibition hall, where Jaemin had placed the main photo of his collection. An image very familiar to you; you spent hours arguing about whether it was a good idea to include such an intimate picture in a collection for the whole world to see, but Jaemin insisted. “It’s the world seen through my lens. It needs to be included,” he said holding both of your hands dearly, his voice trembling in nervousness.
So here was hanging on the big white wall a collage of two images; a cutout of your sitting figure, teacup in hand accompanied with a puffy face, red nose, mouth open mid-sentence glued on the background of the dark open sea. The caption you chose for this picture was placed underneath it, carved in small italic letters on a glass engraving:
shades of blue; the color of you
You hated this picture. But it was so special to Jaemin. He kept saying how beautiful you looked in it, over and over again. It was raw, unfiltered, it captured reality; it represented the very moment he realised he was in love with you.
You stood in front of the image, taking it in. This was the result of your and Jaemin’s combined love for art and everything it expressed. It was an indicator of the love you two shared. Yerim and Jisung stood on either of your sides, looking at the image with as much appreciation.
“You look a little funny,” Jisung muttered and Yerim didn’t let this comment slip, giving him a light slap at the back of his head.
You giggled at the interaction between your two friends. They still hadn’t seen their own picture, a still image of them bickering about nonsense, with Yerim threatening to throw a huge encyclopedia on Jisung’s head, and Jisung raising up his arms as a shield. They have no idea that Jaemin was quick enough to capture this endearing moment.
“Have you guys seen Jaemin, by any chance?” you asked and Yerim pointed towards the space behind the main exhibit. “He’s over there, with these fancy looking guys,” she said and you nodded, heading towards him.
You approached Jaemin as he shook hands with the two middle-aged men, bidding them goodbye. You slipped your arm around his neck and pulled his free hand, bringing his body closer to yours to peck his lips. His arms easily rested at the small of your back, tracing circles with his thumb.
“Everything is so beautiful, Jaem. I’m so proud of you,” you said softly, feeling his cheeks heat up at the sound of your compliment. “It was all possible because of you, my love. Thank you,” he said, locking his lips with yours once again.
Pulling apart, you grabbed his hand and motioned him to walk around the exhibition hall. “Who were those men, by the way?” you asked out of curiosity and Jaemin’s eyes beamed. “Those were the director of the exhibition and another photographer. He’s professional. They came to congratulate me and I can tell they liked my collection a lot. I don’t want to brag or get ahead of myself but I’m sensing a job offer of some sort,” he said and you stopped in your tracks to squeeze him into a tight hug.
“That’s so amazing! You deserve this so much, baby,” your voice was muffled as your mouth was blocked by his shoulder, but Jaemin still managed to hear you, chuckling at your excitement. “Thank you, kitten, but nothing is for sure yet. So far, everything is running smoothly, though,” he said.
After about two hours, the exhibition officially came to an end. It would be open to the general audience again tomorrow, and then again for two more weekends ahead. The first day was crowned a success; Jaemin received a lot of positive feedback on his work and people seemed to genuinely enjoy their time there.
As the hall closed, your friend group gathered at the entrance, escorting the last remaining people out, thanking them for their attendance. Once the four of you were the only ones who remained, Jisung spoke up. “I have an idea. I know it’s late but that’s the fun part. I have the keys to the coffee shop. ‘Caramel Craze’. I know we should be out celebrating with alcohol but none of us likes that stuff. So what do you say? We sneak in and celebrate there. No one will notice,” he said and this offer sounded particularly delicious at the moment.
Entering the coffee shop, the cozy familiar place seemed a lot different in the dark. Jisung didn’t lift up the blinds nor turned the lights on. Instead, he grabbed a torch light from behind the register counter and headed towards your favorite table, setting the torch in the middle to light up the space around the four of you. Going to the back, in the little café’s kitchen, Jisung quickly heated up some frozen cinnamon rolls which were meant to be displayed and sold in the morning. When he came back, the four of you sat in a comfortable silence eating the warm pastries.
As Yerim was about to speak, she was interrupted by the coffee shop’s phone ringing. Jisung stood up mid bite, yelling with his mouth full. “What the hell? Who’s calling this late, we’re closed!” he said, running to the phone. As he picked it up, he whispered to himself, ‘please don’t let it be the boss’.
He brings the phone to his ear with a soft ‘hello’ and he remains still and expressionless for a few seconds before he tilts his head towards the table you were sitting at. “Y/n, they say it’s for you,” he yelled and you blinked in confusion, Jaemin and Yerim giving you the same expression.
You stand up, grabbing the phone from Jisung’s hand with hesitation. You nodded to him and he turned his heel towards your friends.
Sighing, you place the phone to your ear. “Hello?”
“Sorry if I’m disturbing your universe,” the familiar raspy voice reverberated through your ear, your back straightening at the sound of the boy you once loved.
Turning you back to your friends, you greeted the boy back. “Hey, Mark,” you said in a whisper, although your friends were too busy chatting to pay attention to you.
“I saw an article online about your friend’s – um, your boyfriend’s photo exhibition. It was today, right? I-I mean, the time zones are a bit weird, a-and I wanted to congratulate you both on the project. I didn’t expect anyone to pick up though, I j-just made a guess to call the coffee shop since you always said you spend all your time there, a-and I didn’t want to disturb you on your own phone and an email seemed too impersonal-”
“Mark, you’re rambling,” you chuckled and he sighed with a soft giggle. “Sorry. I’m a little nervous. If you can tell,” he said.
“Yeah, Mark, I can tell. Relax, it’s just me,” you said and the silence from the other line dragged on for longer than what you would’ve liked.
Finally, Mark broke the silence by sighing again. “Listen, Y/n, I just wanted to say congratulations. I’m so glad you decided to follow your dreams, with slow steps at a time,” he said, the smile evident in his tone of voice.
Your lips stretched upwards too, though you tried to suppress the smile. “Thank you, Mark. It’s such an honor hearing that from you”.
Another pause. You began to speak, you needed an excuse to hang up the phone now, you were missing from your friend group for quite some time now.
“Liste-,” you and Mark said at the same time, but you stopped, giving him permission to speak.
“Listen,” he cleared his throat, “I just want to know that you’re happy. That’s all that matters to me. Are you happy?” Mark asked and your eyes dropped to your feet.
Were you happy? How could you answer this question so easily? You tried to think, swaying in your place, running your mind through places to find an answer. Turning your head to the sound of Yerim’s loud laugh, you saw your friends throwing small chunks of food at each other, Jisung running around the table in an attempt to avoid Jaemin’s attacks, his lovable bright smile on full display.
You smiled to yourself. “Yes, I am happy,” you said and you could feel Mark nodding from the other side of the line. “Good, good. That’s great, that’s all I needed to hear. Congratulations again, Y/n, you deserve it,” he said.
“Thank you, Mark. You too. Stay happy and take care,” you whispered and slowly hung up the phone, without waiting for him to say anything else, if he wanted to that is.
You stood there, unable to move. Jaemin’s lovely voice brought your conscience back to reality. “Who was that, my love?” he asked, Yerim and Jisung stopping their food fight to look at you, waiting for your answer.
You pressed your lips and shook your head, shoulders lifting upwards. You looked Jaemin in his eyes, which looked glossy under the light of the torch. You flashed him one of your brightest smiles, as you walked towards his open arms.
