saph

ballroom extravaganza

[zeawoo]

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐌𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐖𝐍.

Meet me in Amsterdam

— saph, she/they, ‘07

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐒 / 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 / 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐃

in progress!

— LAST FRIDAY NIGHT ! smau, sim jake

recent work!

— [3:02] ! lee heeseung

— [20:34] ! park jongseong [latest]

coming soon!

— tba

networks!

— @enhypenwriters @kflixnet @ficscafe @k-radio

©zeawoo DO NOT copy, translate or repost my stuff onto other platforms.

[zeawoo]

OMG KING THE LAND IN THE JAY TIMESTAMP? when i thought the fic couldn’t get cuter and then you added king the land bro. i love that show

woah i did NOT expect to have someone actually read it

no but srsly it was between king the land and bloodhounds but dude it was way too wholesome for me to not choose ktl 🤧🤧

also thank you for reading!! <3

[zeawoo]

[20:34] ! park jongseong

GENRE ▸ established relationship, fluff

WORDCOUNT ▸ 693

DISCLAIMERS ▸ mentions of food, not really good tbh 💀

TAGS ▸ @soobin-chois @enhacolor @yyunari @ethereal-engene

“God I’m so tired.” You make your presence known as soon as you enter the small apartment as if the beeping from the door and the rustling aren’t a clear enough sign.

“Y/n?” Jay’s head pops out from behind the wall that separates the entrance from the other parts of the house. He sees you struggling with your gym bag thanks to your shaking arms. Out of reflex, he grabs it and waits for you to kick off your shoes.

Jay goes to put the duffle bag away and comes back to find you collapsed not on the couch, or the floor. It’s somewhat a combination of both; your arms dangling off the leather material and your legs sprawled on the ceramic floor. He almost laughs at how ridiculous you look, but he reminds himself that he isn’t any better post-workout, either. So instead, your boyfriend picks your body off the floor up onto the couch and takes a seat on the edge. He takes it upon himself to place your sore legs on his lap. And without even being asked, Jay starts massaging the pain away just like magic.

You’re lucky to have a boyfriend like him. And even though the man is quite literally head over heels for you and folds the moment your eyes meet, you love it when he puts his knowledge to use not necessarily to impress you. Just genuinely out of the kindness of his heart.

“Leg day?” Jay’s voice disrupts the silence in the living room. Your arm that's covering the upper half of your face moves away for you to slightly lift your head to meet his gaze.

“Dude you don’t know how much pain I was in when I was on the stair master.” An exhausted breath overtakes the last part of your sentence, but you’re confident Jay can decipher what you said considering how much you talk about the gym.

At first, you weren’t the type to care about doing exercise or anything of that sort. It only started once your close friend made you take advantage of Jongseong’s premium gym pass when he was off on a schedule. You didn’t necessarily enjoy it, but when you found yourself yearning for that last rep, you knew you were starting to get hooked on this new hyper fixation.

It was almost like a blessing in disguise because, before that, you had lost all your motivation and had hit a point in your life where everything seemed to be boring. Your attention span was horrible, the mood swings were pretty bad and your sleep schedule was even worse.

After going to the gym a couple of times and developing some sort of love for it, though, it seemed like your life was slowly getting more colorful day by day. Of course, you still had bad days but exercising was like a soft cushion that was there to catch you whenever you had a setback.

Your boyfriend caught on quite easily. It was pretty obvious seeing as you suddenly started talking about working out so much. And so like the star boyfriend he is, Jay started looking into workout routines you said you wanted to try and personally trained you. 

Jay won’t say it, but he’s glad that you’ve found something you’re so passionate about.

And so he looks at you endearingly, admiring every part of your face with nothing but love in his dark eyes. “Go shower, I’ll make you something to eat in the meantime.”

“A yogurt parfait?” You suddenly spring up, big eyes blazing with a sudden craving for something sweet.

“With granola, honey, and semi-sweet chocolate chips. The minis 'cause I know you don’t like the original ones.” A smile picks at your boyfriend's lips seeing you lick your lips just thinking about your post-workout meal.

“And then-“

“Yes, we can watch King the Land with your Doraemon plush.”

Your face can’t be any brighter at this point. “And-“

“Yes, I’ll give you a full body massage afterward.”

“Park Jongseong, I love you a ton.” You lean in to kiss his lips, giggling when he mumbles something along the lines of L/n Y/n, I love you 3000.

[zeawoo]

debating if i should write a bnd leehan fic, a zb1 gunwook fic or an enhypen fic for this one specific idea i have in mind

[maiverie]

TRIAGE! ┊ a lee heeseung series — FINALE ♡

you try to teach the nerd how to date.

synopsis: heeseung is not, by any measure, date-able. he’s dorky, he’s nerdy, and he does this weird thing where he snorts loudly every time he laughs. in fact, he loves everything that normal people are allergic to — computer science, collecting rare comic books, and birdwatching on the weekend.

given that you two have obviously nothing in common, you find yourself utterly flabbergasted when you receive a letter in your locker, on which heeseung has written, "hi. will you please teach me how to date?"

MASTERLIST HERE !

kayla’s playlist (@/miiiwaa) ♡ my shitty og playlist . tags : #.*triage .

TAGLIST

@enhyflirt @dreamyenskz @icedcoffeesunwoo @ssolari @skazoo @jjunis @heejake-en @koroktsuya @jeongwins @tinykoi-s @en-boyz @soobin-chois @blessed-sky @jhyunieee @kisswon @vbxrin @cosmicsunghoon @bloomedberry @jungwonielove @miiiwaa @jungwoniee @lhsng @missharubear @deonuism @sarahxy537 @bambisgirl @hrrhmay-primaryblog @yeonzzun @msxflower @sunsunu @jangwonie @sweetjaemss @seungstarss @tokyoflies @solelyenha @softforqiankun @goodforgyu @va1ry @taekbokki @ashxxkook @moon-gyus @jakeified @markleeisdabestdrug @wccycc @viagumi @pisss111 @outrologist @fairfairee @hiqhkey @ctrlemis

chapter five (finale)

word count: 8k | navigation: previous / MASTERLIST warnings: swearing, (verbal) bullying a/n: final chapter; thank you so much for reading this far. sorry this took so long to get to you :(

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎

‘let’s have a little talk, you dweeb.’

heeseung had been backed into a corner.

while he often liked to reserve that idiom for metaphoric effect, he means it quite literally — ryujin and taehyun had literally backed him into a corner of a bedroom with no way out.

it was obvious he had stumbled across something he shouldn’t have. 

ryujin and taehyun kissing? how disturbing.

if it were up to him, he truly wouldn’t have meddled in their business. however, the way they’re sneering at him leads him to believe that they think his actions were intentional. he wants to insist that no part of this was deliberate—that he was honestly just trying to find you—but tense silence circulates the trio and he has no inclination to speak first.

“who the fuck do you think you are?” ryujin punctuates the silence with her malice, making him inwardly wince. her hands find their way to her hips as she openly scowls with disdain. “god, you’re annoying.” 

“i-i should go,” heeseung lowers his head, scratching the nape of his neck. “i didn’t mean to intrude,” he laughs nervously in an attempt to dispel their hostility, “i was just trying to find—”

“no, you should stay.” taehyun suggests, a smirk slithering to his lips. he rolls his head around his neck before sighing contently. “you should stay and play with us.” 

play…?

heeseung physically recoils with horror, stomach twisting with unease. there’s something about taehyun’s predatory stare that flares goosebumps all the way across his arms. he realises that the most wise decision right now is to escape the enclosed space as soon as possible. 

“sorry, i-i don’t want to keep my parents waiting,” he lies, lowering his head. “they’re downstairs.”

the two exchange impish glances.

“well, we won’t be long,” ryujin stifles a laugh before taking a seat on the bed. she folds one leg over the other, leaning back with her arms propped up. “since you were creeping on us, we thought you could exchange the favour and tell us all about your girlfriend.”

“girlfriend?” heeseung blinks. he doesn’t have a girlfr— oh.

miss sunset.

you? his… girlfriend?

as if.

“oh,” heeseung dips his head shyly. “n-no, you’re mistaken. she’s, um… she’s not my girlfriend.”

if he were being honest, he was kind of hoping to change that some day.

“what, so you guys haven’t fucked yet?” ryujin bats her lashes, a playful stare in her eyes.

heeseung’s brows instantly furrow, a frown on his lips. frankly, he was a little bugged by their vulgarity and the tone used to address you. this was the same type of contempt he noticed in other people in his life — like his aunt at her wedding, who pulled him aside and cautioned that ‘girls like that are foxes, heeseung! they’re nothing but trouble.’

it shouldn't matter, because they’re all wrong.

every single one of them. 

they're wrong.

it boggles his mind that people can’t see what he sees.

then again, it can’t be helped that all the best things about you are what can’t be seen. sure, you’re so pretty that sometimes he can’t even meet your eyes properly, but you’re also warmer and kinder than you give yourself credit to be. you must not realise, but he notices the little things you do for him — like the way you clean his glasses when he places them down on the table to sleep; or the way you pretend you’re full so he can finish the rest of your lunch; or the way you scribble encouraging little notes and drawings on his textbooks when you know he has a long night of studying ahead of him. 

it boggles his mind that some people may never have the privilege of peeking behind the curtain to see that you’re warm, and funny, and kind, and caring. you embody everything that his well-fitting nickname suggests. miss sunset — a blaze of colour; an explosion of soft yellows, bright oranges, fierce reds, pearly pinks and vibrant purples. 

you’re a fiery kiss to the sky.

it’s both a shame and an honour that he’s able to keep you to himself. 

“you know she likes you, right?” ryujin smirks, erecting from the bed.

heeseung’s eyes instantly round. “wh-what?”

“yeah,” she slowly slinks toward him. “she told me.”

“r-really?”

“duh. why wouldn’t she? we’re best friends,” ryujin scoffs, arms folded. “and i know her better than anyone. we’ve known each other since we were little kids, you know.” 

heeseung notices that you don’t often talk about your relationship with ryujin and taehyun. you don’t really tell heeseung much about anything from your past, but he would certainly consider your old friendships to be the biggest elephant in the room. he doesn’t doubt that you were all once close friends, but he knows you haven’t been in contact with them for a while now. it’s obvious why, in his opinion — they’re mean-spirited people who enjoy sinking their claws into people and injecting poison.

they’re callous and vicious and hateful. they’re everything that you’re not. 

‘best friends’? he felt insulted for you.

it was like trying to hold a candle to the sun.

“what… what was she like?” heeseung can’t help but ask, his stomach doing a little flip at the thought of you as a child. he knows he should probably leave the room, but the temptation runs too deep — he wants to consume everything about you.

what did your hair look like? what did your laugh sound like? did you prefer playing outside or staying inside? what made you smile during the day and what kept you up at night?

his heart began to thump at the thought of these answers before reluctance settled in.

was it wrong to wonder these many things about you? 

was he allowed to be curious? 

would that truly be okay — given that you were a goddess and he was next to nothing?

“cute,” ryujin replies, head bobbing. “she was cute.” 

aha!

heeseung can’t help but smile profusely. “of course! i knew it,” he mumbles, blushing to himself. of course she was cute; beauty like that must have been obvious even at a young age.

ryujin’s razor-sharp stare remained. she seemed to study heeseung carefully before lowering her gaze. “she was also kind of mean, i guess,” she continued, inspecting her nails nonchalantly. “a bit of a bully.”

taehyun stifled a laugh at this, and they exchanged knowing glances as though they were indulging in an inside joke. “oh, yeah, i remember she once bullied that kid for sitting in her seat.”

bullied?

heeseung frowned, doubtful about their claims. he reminds himself that they’re both the type of people to embellish any story for their own entertainment. “you’re wrong,” he frowns. “she wouldn’t do something like that. sh-she’s not like you. she’s different.”

ryujin’s lips extend into a smile. “how well do you think you know her?”

his frown deepened. “better than you do.” 

the pair instantly burst into cacophonous laughter that seems to poison the air in the room. 

heeseung bites his bottom lip, feeling unease swirling around at the pit of his stomach. 

“really?” ryujin defies him with a raised brow. “you really think you know her that well?”

he nods slowly.

“okay,” she tilts her head, “then where is she right now?”

heeseung’s eyes flicker to the ground. he didn’t know the answer to that question, but that wasn’t indicative of anything. “well, i-i don’t know, but… she’ll be back—”

“obviously, she ditched you. she left you, heeseung, it’s something we used to do a lot. we’d invite two or three suckers to a party, get them drunk as shit, and then make them entertain us for the next few hours.” 

his eyes widened as he fell into momentary silence, forming as many rational justifications as he could. “but… i was the one who asked her to come with me. and… and you just told me that she… she likes me.”

ryujin rolled her eyes. “the only reason yuna invited you was because we thought it’d be funny. plus, don’t get me wrong — i’m sure she likes you, but don’t put any weight on that. it’s like how a person can like a helpless puppy. it’s pity; that’s all it is.”

“th-that doesn’t mean anything.” heeseung felt discomfort sprout inside his chest, branching insidiously in his lungs and up his throat. “that has nothing to do with her! she’s… she’s an angel.”

“really?” ryujin slithered over toward him and placed a hand on his shoulder, clenching it tightly to bring their faces close. “then why’d she tell us about that letter of yours?”

heeseung felt his heart drop to his feet. “wh-what?”

“the letter you left in her locker,” ryujin continued. “what did it say again? something like…” she pretended to brainstorm, tapping her chin with a finger. “oh! right… wasn’t it something like hi, will you please teach me how to date?” ryujin giggled as taehyun joined in snickering from behind.

his breathing quickened. the letter. 

you told him you never told anyone about that. 

did you lie?

maybe they’re bluffing — you wouldn’t do that. and even if you did lie, you would have definitely told heeseung afterward, right?

“the funniest part was the fact that you signed it off like the fucking virgin-loser you are. kind regards, lee heeseu—” they cackled again, this time even louder. they continued to banter with one another by echoing the contents of the letters. 

heeseung felt himself shrink. hot tears burned his eyes as he felt their humiliation pile on and on as though they were determined in hammering him into the ground. 

“oh my god,” ryujin laughed, wiping the tears from her eyes. “gee, thanks for tonight’s entertainment, heeseung,” she chuckles off the rest of her amusement, “i wish i took a photo of the letter or something. so that i could share it around with—”

“no!” heeseung cried as he swallowed the lump in his throat and began to enter a swivet of panic. “d-don’t! i-i—”

“you’re shaking like a leaf!” ryujin pouts, reaching to grab his shoulder before he flinches. “it’s okay. i won’t tell anyone. unlike your girlfriend, i know how to keep secrets,” she whistled. “say, heeseung… i’m keeping a lot of secrets these days, aren’t i?” she brushed his hair with her fingers.

“even yours.”

he stopped dead, chest rising up and down as he attempted to breathe. he tried to clear his tears with rapid blinking, but it only resulted in more tears replacing the previous ones.

“don’t worry. we’ve been nice. we haven’t told her your secret yet,” she winked. 

yet?

“listen,” ryujin’s voice lowers, her finger lifting his chin so that he faces her. “i really don’t want to keep your parents waiting for too long, so i’ll say this: your girlfriend’s not a saint. she’s vicious in her own way. and if you hate us for the things we make you do, then you should hate her, too. why? because she and i are exactly the same — everything we’ve done to you, she’s done to someone else.”

“y-you’re… you’re wrong.” he turned away from her finger.

ryujin hummed once. “well, let’s face the facts.” her lips slowly lifted into a grin. “you’re alone right now, heeseung. she’s not even here. she left you. i saw her get in the car and leave just earlier. go ahead and look outside if you don’t believe me.” 

heeseung’s gaze flickered to the ground.

“but anyway,” ryujin whirls around and exchanges a smile with taehyun. “we gotta go… we wouldn’t want to stay out too late since we have an early morning, right?” she smirks. “we’ll see you tomorrow, heeseung. at the police station.”

“wh-what? why?”

“because someone ratted us out,” taehyun chimes in, eyes rolling. “so we’ll keep your secret so long as you do one more favour for us.”

you can have your puzzle back. i don't want it anymore.

“you can have your puzzle back.” your little sun says, his voice lowering into a register so low that you almost miss it. “i don’t want it anymore.”

the room remained dark as heeseung’s words hung like ghosts in dead silence.

it was deafening, the way his whisper was the softest sound you’d ever heard. you were holding your breath, fearing a reality in which i don’t want it anymore meant something beyond what you could hear at face value.

“i don’t want your stupid gift,” he croaks, burying his face in his hands, stifling a sob. “j-just… please, just leave me alone.”

finding him sitting in the dark room alone and crying made your heart shatter. it was easy to confront the idea that ryujin or taehyun had hurt him, but you weren’t equipped to face the possibility that it might have been you. the distance he was creating between the two of you allowed your inner antagonisms to fester — your chest tightened with unease, exacerbated by the pressure of fear expanding within you.

“h-heeseung,” you blurted in surprise, your throat so parched that it forced you to swallow and brace yourself for what felt like impending heartbreak. “why…”

you were so stunned that it honestly felt as though time had stopped moving for a moment. you allowed space to pour between the two of you — you let a beat pass, then two, then three, then four, and with each one that scurried by, you grew more and more apprehensive that he wasn’t going to retrace his steps. you thought there was a chance he’d backpedal his words and tell you they’d sprung from his chest in the heat of the moment, but instead, he let you soak in abject misery.

your heart sank. above everything, you were terrified — he was slipping away from you like dust between your fingertips. it wasn’t long before tears followed — they blurred your vision, no matter how many times you’d tried to dismiss them with your hands.

“h-heeseung?” you called his name softly and hoped to peel his fingers away from his face, but he flinched at your touch. in every attempt you make in closing the distance, you find that heeseung draws a line between you; each harsher than the last. he recoils at your touch, shrivels at the sound of your voice, and offers you nothing but a view of his back that shields you away. 

he was cowering from you.

it made you feel ill. sick. like the taste of bile was rising to your mouth and leaving an acidic, ghostly burn in your throat. bit by bit, your resolve was crumbling like a house of cards. 

“tell me what’s wrong,” you begged him, crouching before him on the carpet though he curled away from you. “i promise i’ll fix it, okay? i’ll fix everything.” 

“y-you can’t,” he sniffled.

you felt your throat constrict. “why not?”

“because…” heeseung finally lifted his head, and the moment your eyes locked with his bloodshot ones, it felt as though his fear, hurt, and pain ricocheted back to you tenfold and struck you like a stab to the heart. he sniffled again. “because you lied,” you saw his eyes well with tears again, “and i lied, and—” his voice became smaller. “all we do is lie to each other.”

perhaps this was what you’d always feared — that you were going to be the one to break him.

after all, you had a tendency to do precisely that. you can’t even count the number of times you’d accidentally shattered the dishes in the kitchen that your mother adored so dearly. or the number of bones you’d broken during wild dares from late nights. or the countless number of fractured friendships in your life because you never really struggled with breaking — whether they were dishes, or bones, or promises, or hearts.

was he another?

was heeseung just another one of those things you were always bound to break?

“please leave,” his voice was becoming softer, and softer, and softer, further eclipsed by his cries. you could tell he was struggling to make out his words. you could also tell that he was being honest. 

you’ve never had anyone beg you like this before.

“okay,” you whisper, tears littering the carpet. “i’ll leave.” 

unable to look at him any further, you twist on your heels. you do what you do best — you run. you run down the stairs and out the house and run and run and run, ashamed that this story has unfolded the exact way anyone could have predicted.

he hates you, you may love him, and neither of you are puzzle pieces that fit together. 

perhaps heeseung was right; perhaps you truly are sunrises and sunsets, because alike parallel lines, the two never meet. 

perhaps heeseung never taught you to heal after all. perhaps broken bones and hearts can never properly heal, the same way cuts and grazes may leave permanent scars on our bodies. perhaps your body did what it could to fix what broke, but it only took one gust of wind to retrace old scars and re-break what will always remain broken.

you’ve never been very good with your emotions.

you constantly misrepresent them. 

you smile when you’re sad, frown when you’re happy, say things you don’t mean and omit the words that you resonate deepest with. 

after the party, you cried like you have never cried before. it was a foreign, almost out-of-body experience. every emotion exploded and pierced through the thin surface they were bubbling beneath. your scathing tears had soaked everything — your eyes, your cheeks, and your pillow late through the night. the worst of it was the heaviness inside your chest that ceased to subside, one so hefty that it was the reason you felt like you were sinking to the bottom of an ocean.

it was only until the next morning that anger, the emotion you consider to be the easiest to wear, brought you the energy to pay a visit to ryujin. you were going to get the answers to all your questions. 

after all, that was what you’d learned over the years — anger is the only emotion that gets you answers.

which is why you began with ruthlessly banging your fist on her front door.

“open the door, ryujin!” you bellow.

bang! bang! bang! 

what could she have possibly said to heeseung?

bang! bang! bang! 

why? why was it that ryujin was so insistent on butting in your life?

bang! bang! bang! 

was this some form of karmic reparation? was the universe simply rescinding what should have never been yours in the first place?

you didn’t know what you were going to do. or say, for that matter. yet here you were, desperately trying to claw your way up to the surface where the sun kisses the water. to hell you were going to let this heaviness make you sink and give ryujin the satisfaction.

with no response on the other end, you began to kick the door now.

bang! bang! bang! 

“i said, open this fucking d—”

it finally swings open. 

“are you fucking nuts?” ryujin shrieks from the other side, face contorted with outrage and disbelief. she glances at the door before openly gaping at you. “what the hell? you’re going to break the fucking do—”

you waste no time in lunging toward her. you shove her with both hands, thrusting her so far behind that she lurches back and stumbles onto the floor. while sprawled on the ground, ryujin instantly snaps her head up at you and scowls. “what the fuck is wro—”

yet again, you don’t give her much time to react. you step toward her, making her scramble back before her back hits the wall. as the distance between the two of you closes, you crouch in front of her and roughly push the side of her head with a finger.

“what, ryujin?” you smirk vindictively. “did that hurt?”

her chest sharply rises heavily when she meets your icy glower. “get out.”

though she attempts to pick herself up from the floor, you harshly grip her shoulder and force her back down. you reach over and tap her cheek condescendingly, your voice now a lowly whisper. 

“how funny,” you scoff, head tilted. “i thought i told you to stay out of my life.”

she grits her teeth. “i said, get out.”

“why should i? you’re the one who keeps insisting on getting involved in my shit.” 

“you’re batshit.” she gapes at you. “is this about that dweeb?”

“his name is heeseung.” you snap at her, bunching the collar of her shirt in your fist. you yank her toward you, your other fist lifted and curled.

ryujin barks out a dry laugh when her eyes flit to the sight of your fist. “you’re going to punch me?” she snickers again in disbelief. the sight of her grin makes your fist tighten under her shirt. anger. you felt your anger simmer at cautionary temperatures and slowly branch up in your neck to your face. 

“what did you do to him?” you grit your teeth, breathing slowly to control your emotions. 

it was difficult, because you felt as though she relished at the sight of your anger. she must have recognised your most familiar emotion and felt as though you had shifted back into becoming your old self. you saw it in the way her lips curled, and the way her brows had lifted, and most notably, in the way her eyes paraded a small, tiny, starry glint that conveyed her amusement.

it made you wonder if she was doing this all intentionally. 

just to get a reaction out of you.

just to get something.

“it wasn’t exactly what we did to him,” she smirked. “it was what he did to himself, really.”

“where’s taehyun?” you reach over and slowly comb your fingers through her hair, before closing your fist and grasping a bundle of her strands, jerking her head backwards. “i want him to see your face all battered up. you know, before i beat the living shit out of him, too.” 

she sneers at you. “why don’t you ask heeseung? i’m sure he’ll know exactly where taehyun is.”

you narrow your eyes at her. “what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“they’re probably together right now.”

heeseung and taehyun? together?

you scoff. “what?”

she stifles a laugh, and there it is again — that glint. like a tiny star amidst a midnight canvas. you could feel the anger grow like an inferno within you. that glint was pestering you; it was almost begging for you to reach over and extinguish it. you grip her hair harsher, this time yanking her head backward. 

she yelps as you pin her down with a glower. “tell me where.” 

she hisses at the pain of your grip on her hair and narrows her eyes. “police station, obviously,” she spat with a glare.

her eyes met yours, where your confusion must have been evident. those midnight eyes turned with patronising pity. “wow,” she remarked sarcastically. “the idiot still hasn’t told you.”

“ryujin,” you lean toward her and hiss slowly, with the intended effect that each syllable augments your hostility, “say one more thing about him and i’ll bash your skull against the cement.”

“now tell me,” you hiss, “what are they doing at the police station?” though your words appeared to be laced with composed venom, the truth remained that your heart had begun to drum. everything was coming at a surprise — you couldn’t imagine what would ever bring heeseung to a police station, though you could enumerate a thousand reasons for taehyun.

“like i said, heeseung did it to himself.” 

not satisfied with her answer, you yank her hair again and this time she attempts to strike you with her free arm, but you grab her wrist and desist her from doing so. she winces when you pull her hair tighter, prompting her to quickly open her mouth and elaborate. “okay, okay!” she cries. “he was the one who agreed to take the drug test for taehyun!”

your lips drop into a frown. “what?”

“then the police found out, okay?” she seethed. “we needed him to come in and deny everything. happy?”

you stopped in confusion. what the hell was she talking about? as you sifted through the many thoughts that raced in your mind, you finally froze when you began to comprehend the situation.

you remember now. it was that day — the day you’d first met heeseung in the school hallway, when taehyun had set his eyes upon and sunken his claws into his latest victim. 

taehyun was a drug user, and when he was finally caught by the school, he was mandated to perform probationary urine tests. he constantly evaded these tests by intimidating somebody into giving him fake samples. this was common practice, and it just so happened that heeseung was his chosen victim the day you two had first met.

heeseung never told you that.

he never told you that he went through with it.

“i mean, maybe if he’d kept his mouth shut or done a better job at peeing in a fucking cup, things wouldn’t be like this. in saying that, whose fault is it really?” ryujin rambled on, rubbing salt to the wound as your anger multiplied. “it was still fun at least. especially when we got to talk about you.” 

your hand balled into a tighter fist.

“me?” you pin her down with a dark gaze. “what the fuck did you say about me?”

she shrugs smugly. you watched as a sly smile slithered to her lips and her eyes pooled with shiny darkness. “nothing that wasn’t true.”

your heart drops to your feet.

“you know, it’s funny,” ryujin stifles a laugh, “because he denied it at first. said that you were…” she lifts her hands and uses her fingers to show quotation marks, “different.” you felt your anxiety pierce and gush into your stomach. “we laughed in his face. different, my ass. you didn’t tell him, did you? that you’re actually as much of a piece of shit as we are. he even called you an angel, you know that?”

angel.

“so we decided to set the record straight and we told him what he had the right to know.” she giggled. “you didn’t forget, did you?”

you stared.

“the letter,” she reminds you. “he was so embarrassed i think that was when he started to cry.”  

you froze.

the letter.

fuck.

you wanted nothing more than to run to heeseung and clarify the misunderstanding as best that you could. you wanted to talk to him. hold him. apologise and tell him you’d never intentionally hurt him. that it was an accident — that you lied, yes, but you just didn’t want him to feel embarrassed at that time. that it was a lapse in judgement.

but for some reason, something holds you back.

anger.

anger holds you back. 

the thing about anger is that while it may be your most familiar emotion, it is also the most paralysing of them all. and when it’s combined with resentment, it becomes insidious. the reality about anger is that it exists only in the absence of control, a dangerous condition to find yourself in.

nevertheless, you feel that way.

you feel out of control. 

helpless. angry. frustrated.

why? because that glint is still there. the gleaming, ostentatious star in her eyes that flounces around in her own delight. mocking you. 

ryujin is staring at you expectantly, anticipating your reaction.

you know that she’s waiting for you to punch her. to show her you prefer fists over words. to show her you have not changed in the slightest. everything she has done is aimed to get a rise out of you; she doesn’t care about anything else but avenging the fact you had tossed your friendship to the side — that you had tossed her aside. 

in this moment, you realise that no matter how hard you try, you know that ryujin has won. she doesn’t even need to try very hard to show you that you will never be able to change into a better person. your efforts have come to naught. even now, you are held by anger; you want it to control you — even if it means reversing everything heeseung had taught you about not acting upon your impulses; about not fighting fire with fire. 

you wonder how heeseung would react if he found out what you’d done today. that you’d allowed anger to override you and that you had already used your hands on ryujin. 

you pushed her, shoved her to the ground and pulled her hair without a second thought.

after all, you’d proven her right — you are still the same person. 

how would he react? 

these very thoughts loosen your grip on ryujin’s collar.

you slowly retract your hands from her, feeling the heaviness inside your chest gnaw at you. why are you stooping to her level? as you swallow and salvage whatever amount of sense you have left, you shake your head and slowly rise to your feet.

if heeseung saw you now, he’d probably be scared.

he’d probably see them in you.

your sudden withdrawal makes ryujin freeze. she seems taken off guard. she watches you suspiciously as you attempt to compose yourself, noticeably irked by your lack of response. “you’re… not going to hit me?” she hesitates, sitting up slowly. 

“ryujin, you and i are done.” you attempt to stabilise your shaky breaths. for some reason, focusing on heeseung helps your mind from spinning. he’s your anchor and when you use him as your moral compass, he brings the clarity you need. “for real this time.”

“what?” ryujin splutters with disbelief. she pauses, openly gawking. “what the fuck?” she scrambles to her feet and storms over toward you before abruptly shoving you into the door — the impact thunders down your spine and instantly releases a grunt from you, head spinning. 

“hit me!” she taunts you by sneering in your face. “i made your little boy cry. hit me.”

“if he wanted me to, i honestly would,” you spit at her. “you should thank him you’re not bleeding out right now.” 

she yells as you storm away from her house and it occurs to you that there’s really only one person you want to see right now.

you want to tell him that he was right.

you are different from ryujin after all.

and you will do whatever it takes to stray further and further away from being anything remotely similar.

‘you never know.’ ‘you might wake up one day and find that the sun is gone.’ ‘and then it’s like, poof — no more sunsets.’

heeseung was right.

the day you two had first met, you laughed and called him a loser for taking photos of the sunset. after all, he was attempting to immortalise something that was already a cosmic promise. 

honestly, you didn’t get it.

what was the point of taking a photo of something he could see every day?

you realise now that he was right all along – it really was possible to wake up one day and find the sun gone.

everybody just has a different idea of what the sun is to them. for you, yours disappeared when you realised heeseung was doing whatever it took to avoid you over the weekend.

your texts were left unanswered. 

calls were sent to voicemail.

he was shutting you out.

you tried to visit his house on sunday morning, but his mother faced you with a regretful smile and asked you not to come in. you didn’t know what else you could do because he seemed to close down every avenue you pursued.

you were so eager on monday morning to see him at school. you were an hour and a half early as you roamed everywhere, attempting to control your nerves. you didn’t know whether or not you should have waited at the school entrance, or by his locker, or just outside the classroom door. 

it didn't matter, because he was late. 

you were already halfway through the day when you had almost given up, though you got your first glimpse of him in days when he had finally showed up.

he looked almost as horrible as you did.

the darkness under his eyes had grown. his brown hair was fluffy and in plain disarray compared to how he usually styled it. his eyes were so puffy that it looked like he’d been crying all weekend, the same way you had. you tried to catch his eyes, but he didn’t return your gaze and instead slid into his desk quietly with his shoulders slumped.

there was a pang in your chest. his appearance made guilt expand within you. 

did you do the impossible? did you break the sun and make it rain? 

when class finished, you waited outside the door and stopped him when he tried to leave. it was only then that he finally looked back at you and you felt your heart stop. it took you all the strength to not cry, so you snaked a hand around his wrist and led the way to the school’s court garden. 

“heeseung,” you faced him when you both stopped at a quiet place inside the open garden. his gaze was affixed to the grass beneath his shoes, so you took a deep breath and let the words flow from your chest.

“heeseung, i’m so sorry for lying to you about the letter.” 

he didn’t reply.

it stung to hear silence on the other end because you weren’t used to it. you were used to heeseung’s warmth; his smiles, his laughs, and the bright stars in his eyes. instead, he seemed to have retreated back into a shell of dejection.

you gulped and fiddled with your hands. “i-i should have told you the truth. ryujin saw it, yes, but it wasn’t because i showed her. i-i just… she was there when i found it in my locker. that’s it. it’s not an excuse for lying, but i promise i would never intentionally embarrass you.”

you waited for his response and still found silence. this was when panic slowly crept up inside you. 

“i-i really fucked up when i lied to you. i just didn’t want to embarrass you, and the more time that went on, the weirder it felt to bring it up. but i should have told you the truth. i’m sorry, heeseung.”

there was a pause before he finally lifted his head.

“stop apologising,” he whispered so gently you almost missed it. 

“wh-what?”

“it was here,” he tucked his bottom lip between his teeth and roamed the area with his eyes. “i-i think it was here when you told me to stop apologising to people. you said i said sorry too much.” 

god, you felt relief in your chest, it felt nice to hear his voice again. you were worried he might never talk to you again.

as you briefly considered his answer, you glanced around and recognised the bench you two had sat on when he’d tried to confess to lia. he was right — it was exactly here that you two had your first real conversation. your stomach twisted. he always remembers everything.

“i’m really sorry for ignoring you over the weekend.” heeseung finally returned your stare, and once your eyes had met, you felt your heart squeeze at the sight of misery in his pretty eyes. you hate the sight of him like this. this must be one of the worst things you’ve ever done. you wanted nothing more than for the rain to stop and the clouds to pave way for your sunshine.

“i-i just needed some space,” he continued gently. “and actually… mom thought it was a better idea for her to take my phone, so i didn’t see your texts.”

“oh,” you replied, noticing the distant tone in his voice. “it’s okay, heeseung. i understand.”

“but, um… i did a lot of thinking,” he says, smiling weakly.

you smiled back, though trepidation edged along your nerves. “o-okay.”

his eyes diverted to the side. “i… i wasn’t sad over the weekend because of the letter. i—” you saw his eyes flicker upwards toward the sky, as though he was attempting to contain his tears. “i-i think… i was just upset because…” he bit on his lips as you watched him deliberate over his next words. your heart was beating faster and faster at the possibility this may be the last conversation you ever have with him. it was selfish, but you didn’t know if that would be manageable for you. 

because even if he didn’t need you, you needed him.

“because i didn’t tell you about taehyun,” his lips fell into a sad frown. “thing is, i… i was really embarrassed about it. and… well, i-i…” he took a deep, shaky breath.

you knew he was gathering as much courage as he could to speak with you.

“i just really, really, really hate embarrassing myself in front of the person that i like.”

he finally looked up at you and everything in you stopped. blood felt like the crackling of lightning in your veins. every other sound seemed to dull into a deafening silence.

“to clarify, th-that’s you. y-you’re the person that i like. a lot. i like you really a lot— that... doesn’t make sense,” he winced at himself, eyes shut tightly. “i’m sorry, i… i sound so stupid right now.” he slumped his shoulders. 

“heeseung, i—”

“wait. p-please let me continue,” he looked up at you through his glasses and you fell straight into his deer-like eyes.

“okay,” you whispered. “go on.” 

“i… i just want to be good enough for you,” he finally admitted and you felt everything around you crash. him? good enough for you? he already was; he was more than enough. you were the one struggling to catch up with him. “be someone you can depend on. someone you can trust and be proud of.”

“heeseung,” you step toward him and clasp his hands with yours, forcing him to look back at you. “you’re right. you really do sound stupid.”

“h-huh?” he peered up at you as you saw panic flicker like disco lights in his eyes. “i-i’m sorry, i… i just wanted to come clean and not lie to you anymore. i’m really sorry for pressuring you, i—”

“no,” you shook your head, silencing him immediately. “it’s not because of that.” 

you dropped his hands and slid yours in the spaces under his arms where you could wrap around his waist and embrace him into a tight hug. he instantly froze while you allowed yourself to melt into him, your face in his chest.

“fuck,” you mumbled against his uniform, inhaling the scent of his laundry powder. “i missed you like crazy.” 

his heart was hammering inside his chest and you squeezed yourself tighter, finding solace in the synchronicity of your beat with his. 

“two days and i felt like i was going insane,” you gripped his blazer tightly, “i… i thought you hated me.” 

“hate you? n-no way…” 

a stupidly wide smile stretched across your lips. slowly, you noticed heeseung was beginning to return your embrace. his arms slowly found their way to your back, and once they rested on your body, you allowed yourself to take a proper breath, engraving memories associated with his scent.

“i like you too, dummy,” you mumbled against the fabric. “ceaselessly. probably way more than you like me.”

“you—”

“yes, me.”

“y-you… you really like me? for real?”

when you release him, his bewildered expression makes you instantly erupt into a fit of laughter. he seems to take this as an indication that you’re messing him because of the way lips return into a point.

“are you kidding?” you scoffed playfully, grabbing his face and cradling it with both hands, his soft skin against yours. “you make it ridiculously easy to.”

“a-are you serious?” he pointed to himself, lashes batting innocently. “you really like me? me? heeseung? you like lee heeseung? you know i’m heeseung, right?”

you stare, astounded by his reaction. “you’re crazy.”

“no, i just told you i’m heeseung,” he deadpanned.

idiot. “yes, heeseung. you. i like you like crazy. it’s sickening how much i do.”

heeseung watched you expressionless for a moment before you watched his face explode with sunshine. speckles of gold dust returned to his eyes and twinkled like constellations. his smile swept his face and instantly made your heart thump out your ears. 

“you’re not lying, right? you really like me? and it’s definitely because of my bowties, right?”

you almost wanted to groan aloud and slap yourself in the face, but you stifled down this desire and shook your head instead. sickening, you thought to yourself. his sunshine is so sickeningly sweet.

and if there’s one thing about you — it’s that you have a sweet tooth; and heeseung is a taste you have been dying to have.

“yes. it’s definitely the bowties. they’re basically chick magnets,” you remarked, a smirk forming. “do you know what happens to chick magnets?”

heeseung quickly shook his head. 

you smiled. “they get devoured.”

heeseung’s brows slightly furrowed, his head tilted to the side in what appeared to be confusion. he blinked, not quite understanding your implication.

“in other words, i’m going to kiss you.” 

that, he understood. 

heeseung’s eyes instantly rounded like saucers. “h-huh?”

“i know you heard me,” you took a step toward him, circling your arms around the back of his neck to ring him in close. he blushed at the proximity, and if you were being honest, so did you.

frankly, you were more nervous than you’d thought you would be. this was the fastest and hardest you’d ever felt your heart beat; it almost threatened to leap up through your throat. 

perhaps it was because heeseung was an expert at annihilating everything you thought you knew about yourself. he was great at that: showing you that you were much further from who you thought you were, and close to who you thought you could never be. there were no more first, second, third, and fourth experiences anymore. just a life before him and after him.

when you felt his breath nearing and the heat from his chest, you thought your head spun for a moment.  it felt as though the distance between your lips were simultaneously the closest and farthest distances apart. it wasn’t until he sighed – a release of just the faintest, softest breath — that the sound swept through your chest like a hurricane, and you felt everything within you topple over.

your whole body sank forward into his and you kissed him. you shut your eyes and did what you feared most — you opened up your heart to him and let everything you had within you flow out so that he could feel every inch of your warmth and sincerity. you led the movement first, noticing the way he tried to mimic your movements. he was slow and uncertain at first, until he followed through with what felt right. 

when he began to kiss you back, it felt like fireworks shattered within you. you instantly softened when he looped his arms around your waist and hugged you tightly, because there was no safer feeling than being in his arms.

you knew it.

heeseung is good at everything he tries. 

when the kiss deepened, you thought he tasted like he fell from the clouds and the stars. like stardust and eternity and endlessness. you liked the taste of that. all you’ve ever known are temporary people, the leaving and the waiting and the hoping, so it makes all the more sense when you crumble and melt at the taste of forever and focus on carving this memory onto your soul. 

you couldn’t deny it any further — you were falling in love with him. in fact, you’d fallen down a slippery slope that led you into a pit with no way of crawling yourself out. 

when your lips pull away, you’re both panting for a proper breath. it isn’t until your eyes meet that the world stops moving and something warm ignites like a candle. 

you allowed time to pass you by as your eyes raked every feature of his face; drinking in his beauty, indulging in the rare moment you were able to admire him so closely. you felt bewitched by the way the sunlight gently radiated his features; they shone through the sky and struck him like a spotlight, even in broad daylight. being this close to him brought forward all of his prettiest, most finely drawn features – the mole on the left side of his lips, his long, wispy lashes, and the slight scrunch of his brows. 

you should’ve stopped, but you couldn’t, because he was prettier the longer you stared.

time slowed while you were slipping further and further into an enchanting spell.

falling.

you always hated that — the sensation of falling. being out of control; being helpless. but somehow, with heeseung it felt different — you were falling through time and space and the stars and the sky and everything in between. it was really beautiful. 

you’ve been falling for days and weeks and what felt like lifetime across lifetimes. you fell until it no longer felt like falling, but flying.

“heeseung, you’re really bad at kissing, you know that?” 

you felt so bad when his entire face fell and he looked at you with complete horror. “wh-what?” 

you placed a finger on his lips to keep him from talking. “since you’re so bad, i think you need a few more lessons,” you smiled. “let’s ditch school and go to back to mine. you know, for education’s sake.” you winked.

heeseung tucked his bottom lip between his teeth, smiling shyly. “o-okay.”

fin.

a/n: and then they went home and watched Star Wars :) ANYWAYS. guys u do not understand I actually went thru 32842378 cycles of frustration, anger, and giddiness while trying to wrap this series up. I'm not lying when I say I have about 6 different versions of this chapter, but I decided to keep it simple and straight to the point because ultimately that's what I felt triage was all about :) if you came here looking for genuine dating tips& got lost im sorry i can’t help u cos I'm in my healing era (subtext: literally no man wants me). but anyways I hope this series brought you a little bit of joy some way or another. I honestly had the best time writing it ^^ all the best! hope i to see u in my future works too! thanks for reading! love u so much! <3 (also feedback would be vv nice if u have the time!) MWAH

also, i’ll probably write bonus chapters every time i miss this story so lmk if u wanna be tagged in those ^^

back to masterlist.

//

[zeawoo]

mai i think youve just single-handedly reignited my love for fanfiction and enhypen 🥹🥹

[zeawoo]

kamden <3

[zeawoo]

i forgot how much i love my silly little kpop and my silly little kpop men

[zeawoo]

newsflash, reblogs are worth so much more than likes on tumblr. if you’re going to consume the content that writers put out, please do be mindful of how you show your support because likes just doesn’t do it on here. it’s sink or swim, get reblogs or flop. it’s harsh but it’s just how it is.

[zeawoo]

💌 Send this to the twelve nicest people you know or who seem to have a good heart and if you get five back you must be pretty awesome. 💌

SKYYYY :((( tysm ily bae 🫂🫂 ik we don’t interact much but seriously you’re so nice:( 🫶🫶

[zeawoo]

THE HEESEUNG AU IS SO CUTE IM SOBBING 💔 i love your writing heart eyes and i hope you’re having a good day/night

omg i love asks like these :(( i’m abt to cry tysm for reading my work and taking the time to interact with me! i wish you a very good day/night as well! 🫶🫶

[zeawoo]

Send this to the twelve nicest people you know or who seem to have a good heart and if you get five back you must be pretty awesome.

hey hey heyy bae!! hope you're doing well lately ♡

omg mari tysm :((( i love you thank you bae 🫂🫂🫂

[zeawoo]

dyk what happened to luvwonies or hyukaas?

no i don’t— i don’t think i’ve ever heard of luvwonies before,, maybe ive read some of their stuff without knowing them but yeah— as for hyukaas, they wrote dear diary i hate jungwon right? i knew who they were but we never interacted so yeah

[zeawoo]

being in a reading slump AND a writers block right when summer starts is literally the worst thing ever

[zeawoo]

[3:02] ! lee heeseung

GENRE ▸ pure fluff, implied college!au, gn!reader

WORDCOUNT ▸ 492

DISCLAIMERS ▸ none, not proofread

TAGS ▸ @soobin-chois @enhacolor @ethereal-engene @yyunari

“What the hell are you up to now, Y/n?” Heeseung’s groggy voice rings in your ear the moment he picks up the phone. It’s clear that he was fast asleep like he usually is at three in the morning (unless of course, he secretly stays up all night playing League Of Legends), but you don’t care.

“Seung.” You quietly say, almost pressing your phone speaker to your lips to avoid speaking loudly and potentially waking up your parents thanks to the paper-thin walls of your apartment.

“What?” He sounds impatient. You can't really blame him, though, since you literally called him in the middle of the night.

“I need a hug.”

At this, your boyfriend and neighbor snorts at the random statement. “L/n Y/n.”

You gulp at how scary he sounds even when half asleep. “…Yes?”

“Did you seriously feel the need to wake me up just for that?”

“Well, you could’ve just ignored my call.” You admit, almost too proud. Heeseung groans and you hear shuffling through the phone and assume that he’s rolling over in his bed like he usually does when he wakes up in the night.

“Bullshit.” Even with his back turned to the phone, you can hear him and you instantly visualize how his face must look at the moment. He’s definitely rolling his eyes.

But you giggle, letting the grin that was picking at your lips finally take control. You place your phone down on the mattress and adjust yourself so you’re laying on your stomach. Grabbing a stuffed toy to place under folded arms and chin, you mumble. “And who’s fault is it for allowing my calls and texts to go through even on do not disturb mode?”

For a minute, it’s dead silent. You’re wondering if Heeseung fell asleep until a long sigh resonates through your phone. “Y/n.”

“Yes?”

“Just come over.”

“Say no more!” You try to hide your giggle, immediately kicking off your covers and tiptoeing your way out of your apartment to the one down the hall. Once at the door, you hang up the call and punch in the digits to unlock your boyfriend’s apartment.

You don’t even hide your excitement as you run to Heeseung’s room and crawl under the covers and into his embrace. His features are still visible in the dark, and you can tell he’s glaring at you.

“You are such a baby.” He deadpans, but the way he pulls you closer says otherwise.

“Fine, have it your way.” You act mad and kick him away, attempting to turn your back to him but his grip on you tightens. “Tsk.”

“Kidding.” His hand travels to your waist underneath the covers, pulling down your shirt that had ridden up. “Now sleep, you’ve got nine A.M classes.”

“Fine.” You snuggle deeper into Heeseung’s arms, taking in the scent of his freshly washed hair. “Nighty night.”

“Goodnight, Y/n.” He kisses your hair softly.

[maiverie]

triage — ft. lee heeseung (chapter IV)

you try to teach the nerd how to date.

synopsis: heeseung is not, by any measure, date-able. he’s dorky, he’s nerdy, and he does this weird thing where he snorts loudly every time he laughs. in fact, he loves everything that normal people are allergic to — computer science, collecting rare comic books, and birdwatching on the weekend.

given that you two have obviously nothing in common, you find yourself utterly flabbergasted when you receive a letter in your locker, on which heeseung has written, "hi. will you please teach me how to date?"

MASTERLIST HERE !

kayla’s playlist (@/miiiwaa) ♡ my shitty og playlist . tags : #.*triage .

TAGLIST

@enhyflirt @dreamyenskz @icedcoffeesunwoo @ssolari @skazoo @jjunis @heejake-en @koroktsuya @jeongwins @tinykoi-s @en-boyz @soobin-chois @blessed-sky @jhyunieee @kisswon @vbxrin @cosmicsunghoon @bloomedberry @jungwonielove @miiiwaa @jungwoniee @lhsng @missharubear @deonuism @sarahxy537 @bambisgirl @hrrhmay-primaryblog @yeonzzun @msxflower @sunsunu @jangwonie @sweetjaemss @seungstarss @tokyoflies @solelyenha @softforqiankun @goodforgyu @va1ry @taekbokki @ashxxkook @moon-gyus @jakeified @markleeisdabestdrug @wccycc @viagumi @pisss111 @outrologist @fairfairee @hiqhkey @ctrlemis

chapter four

word count: 6.5k | navigation: previous / next / MASTERLIST warnings: swearing, (verbal) bullying

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎

“can i consider this my first real date?”

you feel your stomach twist and your heart begin to race, because while you must have convinced yourself that you were far beyond the stage of craving romance — you’re not.

you want it. you want romance. you want this romance, you want the one with the smiles and the giggles and the clumsy ballroom dancing and ice creams at a park and foam moustaches from nice cafés around town. you desperately want this kind of romance, but you want it with heeseung.

because you’ve realised that while you’re a sunset, heeseung is a sunrise. 

the kind of sunrise that rises during dawn; one that touches everything around it with a golden glow and brightens any room to the standards of heaven.

he makes everything around him glow. 

even you.

he makes even you feel like you can glow.

“you… you want to consider me your first real date?” you mutter, disbelieving of his words.

“well, yeah.” he blushes, eyes cast to the side as he rubs the nape of his neck. “so... so i can brag about you...” 

brag?

the rest of his sentence trickles off, but this is the point where your stomach mangles into a knot.

the thing about glow is that there must be darkness to begin — and if there’s anything your friendship with heeseung has shown you, it’s that you have so much darkness you’ve never been courageous enough to face. 

after all, heeseung is far removed from the life you’re accustomed to. 

brag?

there is nothing about you worth bragging about. 

you’ve spent years indulging in the exhilaration of danger and chaos, mistaking it for fulfilment and happiness. in your darkest days, you found shreds of pleasure in late night parties, cigarettes and blunts, and shallow friendships you always secretly knew deepened the void in your soul.

but heeseung is good. he is pure-hearted, and honest, and sweet, and so, so kind.

so as you sit here in heeseung’s car, faced with the realisation that you are dark and he is light, you can’t help but disintegrate into tears. 

you begin sobbing.

your darkness unravels from its knot — every fissure, every fracture, and every tiny splinter that traces your soul is exposed bare. you reveal your innermost insecurities to heeseung, crying because you feel undeserving of all the kindness he’s shown you.

tonight’s wedding date was one of the best nights of your life. it felt ethereal, like a movie brought to life or your favourite song played live and just for you. it was fun. too fun; the kind that makes it painfully obvious that you must eventually float back to earth and be dragged to reality. you cry and cry, guilt and misery seizing your throat. you don’t deserve him, because while he admires you like a goddess, you are nothing but damaged goods with skeletons and dust in her closet. 

the silence that hangs in the air is paralysing.

this must be a long time coming, because more sobs erupt from you than you thought possible — how long have you been holding in your misery?

or, perhaps you should have seen this coming — after all, there was always a voice that echoed in your subconscious each time you witnessed your shitty friends do shitty things. or when you’d wake up on a sunday morning and stare at the ceiling and contemplate the way you’ve wasted another night mindlessly partying. or when ryujin or taehyun exchanged malicious words about your classmates and you never said a thing until heeseung came along.

he must be terribly stunned by your reaction, but you are so inconsolably wretched that you don’t notice he’s exited the driver’s seat. in fact, heeseung has already dashed around to the other side of the car. he opens the door on your side, instantly wrapping you into an embrace that tucks your face into the crook of his neck.

warm. heeseung is warm. 

“i-i’m so sorry!” he squeaks. you inhale the scent of his soft cologne, while his warmth oozes into you and softens your heart. he doesn’t understand the reason behind your tears, and instead frantically pats your hair in an attempt to comfort you. “a-are you okay? ah, right— no, you’re obviously not okay... i’m… i’m so sorry. was it me? did i make you cry? whatever it is, i’m so, so sorry, okay?” 

you sob harder.

why is he apologising?

and why is he so goddamn warm?

with your proximity, you can feel the pounding inside heeseung’s chest. his heart is hammering. he must be nervous, you think, because you’ve always held yourself with a high chin and a strong resolve.

is he disappointed that you are not as confident and self-assured as you seem?

or has he seen through you all this time?

truthfully, what makes you more miserable is that his warmth and touch are ridiculously comforting. you melt into his arms, wrapping yours around his back to pull him in closer. he’s like a sun that doesn’t burn.

“d-do…” his whisper as unsung as a feather in rain, “…do you want ice cream? or… or cookies? or… um… books? i-i really don’t kno—”

his kind offers only make you sob harder. he truly is the personification of a sunrise, isn’t he? he’s bright, he’s warm, and with his presence, you find a sort of clarity you’ve been seeking all your life. 

“i-i—”

“it’s okay, it’s okay,” he shushes you, noticing the way you choke on your words. he rubs circles on your back, then strokes your hair, then pulls you in close and squeezes his cheek against the side of your head, enchanting you with his comfort and intimacy. seconds and minutes pass as you hug him as tightly as you can, indulging in another one of your selfish desires. 

one more time, you think. 

you could afford to be selfish just one more time. 

you and heeseung never spoke about that night again.

the next time you saw him, you knew by the look in his eyes that he wanted to ask if you were okay. however, hesitant to admit your innermost insecurity about not being good enough for him, you gave him a simple smile and he never pushed any further.

from then, you let yourself enjoy simple pleasures with heeseung, and together, you embraced the aspects of your life you loathed most. you improved. you started studying again after he began tutoring you. you focused in class, read books, slept early, and rid yourself of all the bad influences in your life. you flourished and bloomed and slowly, with each tiny achievement you amassed across a few weeks, became more and more confident that you weren’t so bad after all.

it’s funny, because you’d once promised to teach heeseung how to date, without knowing that he’d teach you how to heal. now, you realise that these two come hand in hand. perhaps the reason you never let yourself settle down with a boy was because you’d never learned to heal first.

and because of this, you fall a little harder and harder for him each day.

you’re not sure it’s even love — but whatever it is, it exists and you feel it vibrate along your bones. and that’s enough for you to know it’s there, even if most of your affections are hidden in shadows. 

you might not deserve him, but you allow yourself to admire him in secrecy. you collect little memories and store them inside precious jars inside your heart. you watch him during the day and think about him during the night. you watch the way he scrunches up his shoulders when he laughs and the way his eyes sparkle when he talks about his mom. like a broken record, you replay every kind deed he does for you and roll around in your bed, giddy and blushing at the memory of every time your hands accidentally touched. you become absorbed in an innocent, pure love you hadn't thought could be possible for you. 

however, you know better than to keep him to yourself. after all, with each step to becoming a better person, you understand he is leaps and bounds out of your league. so, despite the way it makes your heart ache, you continue to teach heeseung.

in the same way he teaches you how to heal, you continue to teach him how to date. you accompany him on fake dates and show him how to approach random strangers with confidence. you teach him how to dress, how to hold a conversation, what to do at the end of the date, how to make a girl swoon, and finally, how to recognise when they’re in love with him. 

despite the fact that it makes your heart uneasy, you teach him the final lesson. 

HOW TO DATE: LESSON 3 — only ever date people that are in your league. otherwise, you’re just setting yourself up for failure. 

unbeknownst to you, this lesson is the very reason why heeseung’s heart is uneasy, too.

because he’s wondering the exact same thing.

is he good enough for you?

“i really think you should go, heeseung.” 

“really?”

“really.”

it’s 5pm on a friday night, and the two of you are inside his bedroom — you, sitting on the edge of his bed with one leg folded over the other, and him nervously pacing around the room. he’s been like this ever since you both had returned from school.

your eyes follow each of his movements, even if that means he goes up and down the room — up and down and up and down and up and do—

“i-i… i don’t know.” he mumbles, gnawing on the nail of his thumb. you watch in amusement as he suddenly halts and huffs his cheeks. “i just… well, i’ve never really been to a party before.”

your eyes almost bulge out their sockets. “wait, really? never?”

he offers you a bashful look, straightening his school uniform. “n-never. is that bad?”

not bad, just surprising, though the more you think about it, not very surprising at all. it’s lee heeseung after all, the boy with his nose stuck so far into books that the tip of it probably has ink stains. “of course not!” you wave your hands, hoping to quell his anxiety. 

heeseung shoots you an uneasy look, so you stand and gently clasp his wrist, dragging him to sit with you on the bed. the two of you land on it with a soft thud and you hold one of his shoulders in reassurance.

“seriously, you should go.” you say with a soft smile. “it’ll be really fun!”

“you think?” he winces.

“yeah!” you nod enthusiastically. “i can help you pick out an outfit and everything. you’ll be the hottest guy there. girls…” you try to bite back the uncomfortable tug at your heart, “... will be all over you. you’ll have, like, four dates to attend the next day.”

“four dates?” he stares at you, puzzled. “that doesn’t seem very time-efficient—”

“it’s a hyperbole, heeseung. shut up.” you cut him off with a roll of the eyes. he giggles from your reaction, softening your expression. “in all seriousness, you should go. you know, my first party was crazy fun, like basically i ended up drinking a little too much and i woke up the next day with this video of me running down the road half-nak—”

he blinks.

“—uh, nauseated. half-nauseated. i was very sick, so i walked all the way home, totally sober and safe and normal! yes. i did just that.”

you turn away and cough awkwardly, forgetting about how unhinged most of your party stories seem to end. regardless, it really is your sincerest hope that heeseung goes — it’ll be good for him to go out and socialise with people that aren’t you; he’s obviously getting better and better at making friends with his classmates if he’s already received his first party invitation. 

“i-i don’t know… i’m not really going to know anybody there…”

“i’ll pick you up afterwards!” you grin, making the edges of his lips tug upward. then, you reach over and stroke his head, lowering yours to coo at him sarcastically. “and make sure you’re safe and all tucked into bed ‘cause you’re being such a baby.”

“b-baby?” his eyes widen while he bites back a smile, blush trickling into his cheeks. his actions make your eyes quickly dart to his lips before you tell yourself to stop thinking about kissing him. “hm…” he taps his chin with a restrained smile, before his eyes brighten and his head snaps up at you. “why don’t you come with me?”

you stare at him like he’s speaking a foreign language. “what? no!”

“why not?” he whines, nudging you with his shoulder. “you said it yourself! parties are fun!”

“well yeah, but, i’m kinda doing this thing where i stop drinking, heeseung!” you laugh, in reference to your recent life deep-cleanse. you’ve cut out your friends and self-sabotaging, which most definitely includes your drinking and partying.

“you don’t have to drink!” heeseung beams. “it’ll be fun. i-i think i’d be a lot more comfortable if you were there…”

shit. 

you feel yourself waver. truthfully speaking, you do miss partying, and you’re certain it’d be a hundred times better with heeseung by your side. perhaps it’d be good for you to keep a look out for heeseung; you know how most of these events tend to go. if they’re anything like the ones your friends used to host, one or two poor suckers almost always walk home with an embarrassing story that gets echoed into the hallways. there was no chance in hell you’d let that happen to your sweet boy.

“but i wasn’t invited.” you frown. ironically, your popularity has taken quite the hit — apparently, having your ex-best friend ryujin spread nasty rumors isn’t painting the nicest picture of you with the rest of the student body. you don’t really care for it, but you would certainly find it weird to show up to a party nobody expects you to attend.

“who cares? if they kick us out, we can hang out afterwards.” heeseung beams, his eyes crinkling with his smile. “late night bike rides?”

you can’t help but grin back, feeling the heavy feeling in your chest lift. late night bike rides — just him, you, and the chilly breeze as his bicycle courses its away down the pave way.

“okay… fine.”

truthfully, a part of you hopes this party doesn’t even happen.

unbeknownst to you, a part of heeseung is hoping the exact same thing.

.

.

.

apparently, picking out an outfit for heeseung is not easy when you disagree on his chosen tee.

“but people love superheroes.” heeseung pouts. “that’s why they’re called super. because they’re super cool.”

“dude, if you say another word, i will literally shove this shirt down your throat.” you growl, yanking the superhero tee out his hands and tossing it across the room. his head follows the direction it flies and he watches it land with a soft thud. “that shirt is an abomination and deserves to be burned.”

“aw,” he slumps. “but… that was iron man.”

“more like, iron letting anybody wear that outside.” you snort from your pun before your smile quickly vanishes. fuck. did you just laugh at your own joke? is heeseung making you… lame? is this who you are now? “okay… anyway.” you shudder at that thought. “i picked this outfit for you. come look!”

heeseung stamps his lips together, waddling closer toward you as he peers into his own closet. you quickly retrieve the white dress-shirt you’ve chosen and the cream white sweater you’re hoping to layer it with. across the sweater are thick black vertical lines and a front print that reads stray souls pray for us, among other ominous words you hope will suffice in creating an edgy aura. “i thought maybe we could pair this with some black jeans, a necklace and chuck on a bunch of fake piercings. you’ll look emo, but at least you won’t look horny for a man made out of metal.”

“hey! that’s so disrespectful to iron man!”

“whatever man,” you shove all the clothes in his hands while shuffling toward the bedroom door so you can leave. “i’m going to get changed in the bathroom. just tell me when you’re finished dressing.”

you place your hand on the door knob before halting. oh, right!

whirling around, you rush for your backpack in the corner.

“by the way,” you grin, unzipping your backpack and reaching into it to retrieve something. heeseung stares at you curiously, only to find himself wide-eyed when you yank out a small box from your bag.

“this is for you.” you excitedly grin. “i saw it the other day in a store and it reminded me of you.”

his eyes instantly round in surprise. “this is for me?”

“yeah,” you smile. “i know i told myself no more shoplifting but i couldn’t resist it.”

he gasps loudly. “wait, y-you stole this?” he shrieks nervously, eyes bouncing between you and the box.

you chuckle easily. “well, yeah. i mean, only ‘cause i forgot my purse.”

“i could’ve paid it for you!”

“but then it wouldn’t have been a gift.” you shake your head. “just take it, heeseung. i’ll, uh… drop off the money to them tomorrow.”

he presses his lips into a line, eventually succumbing to your compromise. now, he finally examines the box in his hands, peeking curiously. “but… what is it?” he asks, slowly peeling the wrapping away.

“a jigsaw puzzle!” you explain excitedly. “i just thought—i don’t know, you once mentioned you and your mother like to do jigsaw puzzles together, and… i thought this picture was really pretty.”

he stares at first before a smile instantly sweeps his features. “wow, thank you so much!” heeseung beams, and the sparkle in his eyes makes you feel unimaginably elated. his smile is so damn pretty but it’s even prettier when you’re the reason for it. “so what’s the picture?”

“just some landscape photo.” you mutter, too embarrassed to admit that it’s a sunset. something about admitting this inside joke is frankly a bit embarrassing — what if he’s long forgotten about it? what if this is entirely one-sided?

heeseung giggles as he opens the box and peers at the jigsaw pieces inside it. “ah! a sunset of course.” he bobs his head. “a sunset from miss sunset.” he smiles affectionately, “i love it so much.”

you smile and nod your head once, desperately containing your excitement. can’t show too much, and all at once.

he then captures your attention by rummaging through the pieces and yanking one of them out of it. “here!” he holds it out for you, causing you to stare in bewilderment.

“what?”

“keep it.” he urges.

“but… then you can’t finish your puzzle.” you blink.

“that’s the point!” he giggles. “so you can have an excuse to meet my mom one day.”

.

.

.

you’re nervously staring at your reflection in the mirror, adjusting the way the clothes sit on your body. you had quickly come home and back to heeseung’s to grab a change of clothes, but now you fear that you’d chosen the wrong ones.

or perhaps there was never a “wrong” outfit to choose because they’re all horribly inappropriate. it’s infuriating dealing with your past self — why the hell are all your skirts so damn short?

perhaps you’ve been too focused on dealing with heeseung’s closet to realise that you need a change of your own. the only party attire you own is everything you used to wear, which is a gaudy collection of mini skirts, cropped tops, distressed denim and tops that borderline lingerie. for fuck’s sake, you curse to yourself, fidgeting with the outfit you’re already embarrassed at the thought of heeseung seeing.

you’ve chosen a black mini skirt and a matching sleeveless halter top that knots at the back of your neck, accentuating your shoulders and drawing attention to the bare expanse of your back. this was always one of your go-to outfits — admittedly, it was a crowd favourite, but only because it flatters all your nicest assets and treads the line between flirty and fun.

dreading how heeseung will react on seeing this, you release your hair so it flows down your back and adjust your makeup, forcing a smile at yourself to see your red-painted lips stretch.

“don’t come in; i look stupid.” heeseung mutters when he hears you just outside his bedroom door, so you peer inside before opening it widely with a big grin. seated on the edge of the bed, he turns toward you at the door and opens his mouth to speak before freezing when he sees you.

“w-woah.”

you feel your entire face burn like metal under the sun, because heeseung continues to stare, eyes rounded and mouth slightly ajar. “sorry,” you blush profusely, brushing your hair so that it conceals as much of your top as possible. “fuck, my, uh, closet isn’t very wholesome and so—”

“n-no!” he cries, waving his hands around frantically. “i-i wasn’t thinking that! i promise!”

you stamp your lips into an awkward smile and trail across the room.

“the jewellery fits you really well, by the way.” you comment, appreciating the way his necklace and earrings elevate the overall badass aura this outfit has given him. the sweater makes his shoulders look wide, while the dress-shirt collar that peeks out from beneath it makes him look fashionable. these jeans would look good with some boots, you think, making a mental note of what already exists in his closet.

“your hair looks kinda dumb though.” you scoff playfully, standing in front of him now. “i’ll fix it.” 

“n-no, it’s oka—”

he gulps, leaning back as you slide between the space between each of his legs and reach over to brush his hair with your fingers. bit by bit, you gently untangle any knots and use small amounts of styling cream to get them in the right place. it causes you to occasionally lean in to reach the ends at the back, so he turns his face to the side in an attempt to avoid contact with your chest. “a-ah… um, m-maybe you should—”

“i think it’ll look really nice like this.” you comment absentmindedly, without realising that you’ve completely enveloped him with your scent.

you’re close.

you’re too close, he thinks, but you don’t seem to realise it —  truthfully, you’re a little too focused to have heard heeseung, nor the way his hand is slowly resting on your waist.

then, you feel his fingers brush against the bare skin of your waist just above your skirt, and your whole body freezes.

he’s touching you. heeseung is touching you.

every inch of your skin that he touches sends shivers down your spine, but before you can begin to process what’s happening, he gently pushes you away by a grip on your hips.

“stop.” he mumbles, head hanging low. “please stop, okay?” you stumble back when he pushes you a little further. you stand, dumbfounded and stunned, his fingers burning every inch of the skin he’s touched like a scathing chisel.

did you do something wrong?

is he uncomfortable with you?

how close is too close?

“i-i can do it myself.” he mumbles, desperately concealing his flushed face before rushing toward his bathroom, so quick that you stare off at the absent space left on his seat on the bed.

.

.

.

for the first time, the car ride is silent. you’d like to have the courage to speak up, but the last time anybody had ever spoken was when you’d thanked him for giving you the handbag you almost forgot to bring along. he’d gotten red, dipped his head and muttered a quiet you’re welcome, and that in itself felt like the death of the conversation.

during the car ride to the party, you fiddle with the hem of your mini skirt, plagued with a re-run of what happened in his bedroom. perhaps you’re getting a little too comfortable with him; or perhaps he just doesn’t need your guidance anymore.

now you just feel a moron.

perhaps you shouldn't have decided to come to this party after all.

“s-sorry.” heeseung finally squeaks, so you whip your head toward the driver’s seat. he seems to be nervously clutching the steering wheel with both eyes drilling the road ahead. “i’m sorry.”

what?

“what do you mean?” you frown, though the tension in your body dissipates now that you’re talking again. 

“i’m really sorry.” heeseung gnaws on his lips, his body tense, and his eyes unable to be peeled away from the road. “i just… y-you’re, like, so pretty and everything about you is just... you make me really nervous, you know? i’m sorry i pushed you away, i just kind of… i— nevermind.” his entire reddens while he huffs his cheeks heftily. “y-you just… you look really, um.. wow. you look really, really incredible. and th-thank you for fixing my hair...” 

incredible?

he thinks you look really, really incredible?

you instantly smile, feeling your heart swell with giddiness. not just incredible, and not just really incredible —  but really, really incredible. you bite back a grin, quickly turning to the passenger window in an attempt to conceal your utter delight. you feel like a giddy middle schooler.

“it’s okay.” you whisper. “i’m just really, really glad we’re talking again.” 

.

.

.

heeseung is many things. a smart boy, a loving son, but above everything else, a horrible, horrible drunk.

it doesn’t help that three hours in, you’re one of the only sober people surrounded by drunk morons. it felt like just a minute ago when the two of you were nervously standing outside yuna’s door, ushered inside and offered various drinks (which you pawned off to heeseung).

you glare at him from your seat halfway on the stairs, watching him through the balusters as he chats up lia. she’s been giggling uncontrollably ever since she found out that heeseung is (thanks to you!) super hot now.

fucking bitch.

she’s been playfully touching heeseung and laughing at all his jokes all night. he’s been blushing and timidly telling her more of his probably dumb as fuck chemistry jokes.

truthfully, you don’t even need the vodka — the burning sensation of jealousy inside your chest is enough to keep you flushed. thing is, you can’t even be mad — after all, you’re the one that taught him all the skills to flirt and you’re the one that even encouraged him to come to this lame ass party anyway.

you want to be able to enjoy this party, you really do, but it’s hard when your mind is going haywire. even a party like this — one inside yuna’s spacious house, decked with bottomless drinks, endless entertainment and rnb music — you can’t seem to take your mind off your favourite boy.

huffing in annoyance, you clench your jaw and take a sip of your stupid, cold ass water. water is such a dumb drink. who even likes drinking water? water is dumb and this party is dumb and heeseung is so fucking dumb.

“you look like you’re going to murder someone.”

you look up over your shoulder, past your mascara-laden lashes. standing a few stairs above you is ryujin, with her brows lifted and her hands on her hips. you instantly scowl and groan, turning back around.

“i’m not in the mood.” you tell your ex-best friend. “get lost.”

“bitch, this is my party and you’re telling me to get lost?”

you snap your head back up to stare at her in confusion, only to then connect the dots. right, you almost forgot — she’s friends with yuna.

she watches in amusement as you make the realisation, trodding down the steps to take the seat beside you. okay, this is officially weird — since when were you and ryujin on talking terms?

“your party’s shit.” you hiss at her, thinking about heeseung and a girl you might very soon rip the limbs off. she’s got her hand on heeseung’s arm and he’s blushing profusely because of it. childishly, you make note of where she’s touched so you know never to touch him there ever again. “it’s so fucking lame.”

“honey, you’ve been staring at that little dweeb all night. as if i’m not going to know the only reason you’re pissy is because you’re jealous.” ryujin snorts.

you glare at her again, making her lift her hands up in defence. “sorry, slip of tongue — not dweeb, just… boy. although whatever experiment you’ve been doing on him seems to be working. he’s like… highkey hot now.” she flashes a humorous smile. you press your lips together, unimpressed, instantly returning your gaze back to heeseung.

what the hell? they’re on the couch now?

“whatever.” you mumble, swirling the straw inside your cup. you’re well-accustomed to lying; it’s something that comes natural to you, but for some reason, you don’t even bother to hide your disdain for heeseung and lia.

she’s not right for him.

“taehyun’s coming to pick me up later if you wanna hang with us. we’re probably just going to chill at his house.” she grins.

“easy pass.” you scoff, thinking about the way she’s treated you. “and can you stop talking to me like we’re friends? we’re not, so get lost.”

ryujin offers you a wounded look. “dude, what’s your fucking issue? why are you always acting like you’re better than us? stop being such a pompous bitch.”

you instantly stand looking back at her with a furious gaze. “i’m leaving. don’t talk to me.”

heeseung doesn’t know love.

he knows many things, like the circumference of various planets and enough digits of pi to bore a whole party to sleep, but he doesn’t know love. after all, he’s never experienced anything remotely close to it.

lately, however, he’s been feeling like he’s inching closer and closer to the real thing.

and it’s all thanks to you.

your dating lessons have clarified a lot of what he always felt unsure about. he’s not the best with people and definitely not with girls, but you bring the clarity he’s always been searching for.

however, engaging in this conversation with lia has thrown out everything he thought he learned about girls.

are conversations always this… boring?

“yeah. isn’t school the worst?” lia giggles.

“haha, yes… i hate school…” heeseung nervously laughs, his smile fading away by the second. how can school be the worst when it’s the best?

he doesn’t mean to be rude, but he’s not having a great time. sitting here on the couch with lia is an experience he’s trying to push himself to have, but frankly the conversation just doesn’t run as smoothly as it does with you. besides, he’s definitely not the only person that’s obviously bored, because every time heeseung opens his mouth to share another fun fact about light bulbs, he can literally see the light in lia’s eyes vanish.

she’s not really having the best time either, yet somehow she’s becoming more touchy by the minute.

it’s contradictory. he doesn’t understand what she’s thinking. and this is not a problem he faced when going on all those fake dates with you.

he’s really, really confused and when he feels this way, there’s only one person that smooths out the mangled mess in his brain — you.

as he quickly tears his eyes away from lia and surveys the area for a glimpse of you, he finds himself more anxious when he can’t. miss sunset, miss sunset, miss sunset… your name repeats in his head like a drum. you’re truly the only thing in the world that makes sense (other than science, of course), and now that the effects of alcohol are beginning to afflict him, he’s finding it more and more hard to be without you.

so he quickly excuses himself from lia and springs to his feet.

“hey! b-but heechul, i thought we could maybe… you know, leave this party together?” she smiles, brows lifted in anticipation.

heeseung blinks. “my name is heeseung.”

her face falls. “oh.”

“i mean, unless my parents are dyslexic and read my birth certificate wrong,” he jokes, snorting at first until he realises she’s not laughing. that’s when his smile instantly vanishes and he dips his head low in shame. maybe he’s only funny to miss sunset. “s-sorry.” he blushes, “i-i really have to go. m-maybe i’ll see you around?”

lia huffs before sighing. “okay, i guess.”

scratching the nape of his neck, he whirls around and begins his search for you.

as he traverses his way through the crowds of people and dodges the spillage of the drinks in their hands, he eventually discovers that he’s making loops around the first storey. ah, he reminds himself, there’s a second storey! he climbs the stairs, taking note of the cups that have been left up along it. there are two — one of which has a familiar lipstick stain he’s pretty sure you’d worn.

he’d know.

after all, he’s been staring at your lips all day.

sparing some time, he neatly stacks the cups together and brings them with him upstairs in search for a garbage container. as he reaches the second storey, he notices a few closed bedroom doors and one which is slightly ajar.

batting his lashes curiously, he hears distant chatter at the bedroom at the very end of the hallway. ignoring it, he walks right across the carpet, locating the bathroom. after discarding the trash, he takes a few minutes of examining his reflection (lia had ruined the hair you made look so pretty) before exiting the bathroom.

then he halts in his feet, because he hears a loud crash.

concerned, he bolts toward the bedroom at the end of the hallway and swings the door open, only to immediately regret his actions afterward.

because he’s just seen something he shouldn’t have.

standing beside the bed, ryujin and taehyun are tangled in each other’s arms. heeseung’s eyes immediately widen as their lips detach and they snap their heads over at him, equally as shocked as him.

oh no.

“oh, for fuck’s sake!” ryujin cries, shoving taehyun away from her as she glares ferociously at heeseung. “what the fuck are you doing here?”

heeseung slowly backs away. “s-sorry.” he raises both his hands, feeling regret and horror trickle inside of him. isn’t taehyun dating his cousin, minjeong? aren’t they both your friends? didn’t you and taehyun have a… thing? his brain hurts.

he continually backs away, before taehyun lunges toward him and yanks him in the bedroom.

“let’s have a little talk, you dweeb.”

.

.

.

“you’re hot. can i have your number?”

“look at me. does it look like i want to give you my number?” you stare at him, boring holes into his eyes until he’s uncomfortable and leaves. you’re not normally this mean when boys try to hit on you, but frankly you’ve had enough of this night.

after your fight with ryujin, you’d driven to a nearby convenience store to grab some snacks for heeseung.

you’d figured he’d be peckish after all that drinking. but now that you’ve returned to the party and the boy is nowhere to be seen (and neither is lia, by the way), you’ve come to a solution that’s driving you crazy.

they’re probably off making out somewhere.

upset, you hold your own pity party in the kitchen by making yourself some iced cola. man, the vodka bottle is looking awfully tempting, but once again you choose to honor your self-development.

however, as two hours pass, you find yourself more and more concerned that heeseung is not off doing what you think he’s doing. you verify this with lia, who states she hasn’t seen him for a while now. the growing concern eventually ruptures inside you and you drop everything to search for heeseung.

“heeseung?” you call as you shove your way through the house. “heeseung?”

you attempt to dial his number but your calls don’t go through. he never turns his phone off.

fuck.

fuck.

fuck.

“heeseung!” you shout as you meticulously scavenge the back and front yard. you become increasingly anxious that you’ve lost the boy — drunk and alone and with people you definitely don’t trust to take care of him. eventually, the time comes for when you decide to search the second storey, though your doubts are high.

when you’re at the foot of the stairs, your heart is hammering inside your chest. is he okay? it’s your one genuine concern, and it makes you furious at yourself for letting your jealousy get ahold of you. why the hell did you leave the party?

this is all your fault.

if anything happens to your boy, it will be all your fault.

climbing the stairs, you notice something odd. where the hell is your cup from before? there’s nobody here you know that would do any sort of cleaning, unless—

you sprint up the stairs and begin slamming open every door you see.

“heeseung?” you continuously echo into every room, finding silence on the receiving end. it’s almost unnerving, because if he’s not here then he’s not anywhere. it makes tears well in your eyes thinking about where he could be or if he’s feeling lost and scared.

that’s when you take notice of the remaining door at the end of the hallway.

“h-heeseung?” you approach the door, opening it.

the room is pitch dark, and at this time of night, the windows offer no shed of light. you see nobody on the bed, and though you almost close the door and leave, you halt at the sound of a soft whimper.

you freeze.

heeseung?

the room falls silent again, so you open the door a little wider. the light from your side now pours inside and you finally make out a figure sitting on the floor.

it’s slumped against the side of the bed, curled up and hugging its legs.

your heart falls into the pit of your stomach.

it’s heeseung.

and he’s crying.

“heeseung? oh my god.” you rush over toward him and fall to your knees, cupping his face in your hands as your chest swells with worry and distress. “are you okay? what happened? what’s wrong?”

your eyes dart everywhere across his features, taking in everything about his expression — his blood-shot eyes, the pink across the tip of his nose and his cheeks, and his tears streaming down his cheeks and now onto your fingers.

heeseung retracts from your touch and hiccups, dropping his face on his knees. at the cursory glance you’d made, you can tell he’s clearly intoxicated. he looks really unwell, but this is certainly not the result of just alcohol — he’s obviously upset about something.

“i-it’s me,” you attempt to placate him, placing a hand on his shoulder to rub his back before he flinches away from you.

“leave me alone.” he chokes out, his soft whisper jagged and broken. you stare in stunned silence, taken aback by his reaction. your head feels like it’s spinning.

“wh-what happened?” you question, mind racing as you attempt to fill in the blanks yourself. did someone hurt him? did someone say something to him? did—

your expression instantly darkens when you recall what had happened earlier. you’d hate to be right. you pray and pray and pray that this is a shot in the dark and your assumption is far too many steps ahead than reality.

“was it… ryujin?” you whisper, feeling your entire body tense.

at the sound of her name, you see him stiffen.

and it’s enough of an answer for you.

you feel fury thrash inside of you and compound in your core. your hands are shaky when you reach out to touch him but he instantly jerks away from you.

“she said something to you?” you whisper, shattered by this realisation.

he pauses before slowly nodding his head.

“just her?”

he shakes his head.

taehyun, that fucking rat bastard.

“i’ll fucking kill them.” you growl, standing up instantly. you’re livid. you can’t even begin to imagine what they’ve done to your boy, but you’re certain you won’t spare mercy. “i’m beat the shit out of them.” you rush to leave, but heeseung grabs your hand before you can go anywhere.

“you can have your puzzle back.” your little sun says. “i don’t want it anymore.”

//

to be continued.

*taglist is open, just comment or send an ask :>

a/n: hahahahahaha im sorry IM SORRY it was gna happen sooner or later but anyways i am once again BEGGING for ur forgiveness for such a late update; since the next chapter is the FINAL chapter, i will try my best ot be rlly quick. within the next 2 weeks hopefully? 3? anyway idek how i feel abt this final product or w/e but ya girl is ~tired~ and she's very excited to finish this series <33 thank you guys SOSOSOSO MUCH for all the love across the few months it took me to write this. can’t believe we have one more chapter left :< triage & triage!hee have a special place in my heart hehe, so thanks for being a part of this journey <333 anyway pls do support me via liking + reblogging if u can !! :>

[zeawoo]

i doubt people are going to remember who i am when school starts again

[zeawoo]

Hi! daily reminder to never ever force yourself to write just to keep your blog active— if you don’t put out stuff that you genuinely are proud of then what’s the point?