jannng

[jannng]

cardigan

“when i felt like i was an old cardigan under someone's bed, you put me on and said i was your favorite.”

you met wonyoung in the summer, when the world felt too big and your heart too small to hold all the feelings she made you feel.

she had that kind of magic the kind that didn’t need attention, but got it anyway. you weren’t sure when it happened, but suddenly, you were hers. entirely. quietly. undeniably.

she made you feel seen. like you weren’t something forgotten in the back of a drawer. like you weren’t someone people chose only when it was convenient.

with her, you were wanted.

but time has a way of changing things, even the softest of loves.

sh chased dreams. you stayed behind.

and one day, without warning, you stopped fitting in her world.

the texts slowed. the calls dried up. the warmth faded.

she left without ever really saying goodbye..

now, years later, you see her again on a screen, in someone else’s arms, shining like she always did.

and you wonder if she remembers.

the late night talks. the shared playlists. the hoodie you gave her that she wore like armor. the quiet promises spoken between sleepy kisses.

you wonder if she thinks of you when that song plays. if her heart still tugs at the sound of your name.

because even now, even after all the growing and the letting go.

you still think of her.

like a favorite cardigan you once wore until the threads frayed and the color faded, but you could never quite bring yourself to throw away.

_______________________________________________

for a love that felt warm, even if it didn’t last.

OMG THANKYOU FOR 4 NOTES ON MY LAST STORY THATS DOPE

[jannng]

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived

Wonyoung had dreamt of her wedding since she was nine.

Not the grand ballroom, not the custom white Dior gown her mother commissioned six months in advance, and not even the three million roses imported from five different countries.

No, her dream was simpler.

It was him. Y/N.

The boy she’d followed like a shadow every summer at the family estate in Jeju. The one she wrote her first diary entry about. The boy who never once smiled back at her. Not even once.

Her mother always said, “Boys like Y/N are just quiet. They don’t show affection easily.”

But Wonyoung knew better. Y/N wasn’t shy.

He just didn’t love her.

He despised her.

The eye rolls. The scoffs. The way he’d leave the room the moment she entered. It became routine. A ritual. It never stopped her, though. Because some people love blindly. And Wonyoung was the most willing fool.

So she asked for one thing on her 21st birthday.

"Let me marry Y/N."

It should've been impossible, laughable even. But Wonyoung's father owed Y/N's father a favor. A massive one. The kind that only marriage between heirs could repay in the world of billionaires.

And so here they were.

Standing in front of hundreds of guests, cameras flashing, vows echoing under golden chandeliers.

Wonyoung smiled. Y/N didn’t.

He didn’t look at her once. Not during the ceremony. Not during the kiss. Not even as they drove away in the Rolls Royce Phantom with “JUST MARRIED” plastered on the back.

The suite at the hotel was drenched in champagne and silence. Wonyoung sat in the vanity, removing her earrings slowly. The gown, the makeup, all of it felt like armor now cracking. Y/N stood by the window, jacket off, drink in hand. His first words since the reception cut through the air.

“Are you happy now?”

She turned slowly. “No.”

He scoffed. “You got everything you wanted. Your stupid fairytale wedding. Me.”

“I didn’t want this version of you.”

“Oh really? Which one? The one that begged our parents to cancel it? The one that told you to leave me alone for years?”

“I’m sorry.” Her voice cracked.

“Sorry doesn’t change the fact that you forced this.”

And in a way, he was right.

She wanted him. Enough to push. Enough to manipulate fate and family. But now, sitting in the cold silence of their honeymoon suite, Wonyoung wondered if loving someone this deeply could ever really be pure.

“I thought maybe… you’d give me a chance,” she whispered.

He downed the rest of his drink. “Too late for chances. We’re stuck now.”

He walked past her, slamming the bedroom door behind him.

Wonyoung sat alone. Hair half-tied, tears dripping onto the neckline of a $10,000 gown.

In her dream, she married the love of her life.

In reality, she married a man who couldn’t stand to look at her.

The mansion was massive too massive for two people who barely spoke. Y/N had moved into the east wing the morning after their wedding. He said it was for “space.” Wonyoung didn’t argue. She didn’t want to push again not after hearing the door slam on their first night as husband and wife.

Days turned into weeks, and the silence turned heavier.

They only saw each other during family dinners or public events. The media called them “the perfect golden couple.” Pictures of their stiff smiles flooded social media. But behind the glamour and gold, Wonyoung spent most nights eating alone in the kitchen. Most mornings were greeted with a made bed because he never came home to hers.

She tried.

God, she tried.

She’d make his favorite dishes. She’d leave handwritten notes by his coffee. She even bought him a vintage vinyl set for his birthday one he mentioned liking when they were thirteen.

He didn’t touch any of it.

Instead, he brought home paperwork. Or worse rumors.

 “Y/N Jung seen with mysterious woman outside hotel.”

   “Trouble in billionaire paradise?”

She knew it wasn’t cheating Y/N hated her too much to even fake affection, let alone sleep with someone. But the whispers still hurt.

One night, she found him in the study, tie loosened, sleeves rolled up. He didn’t even glance up when she walked in.

“I made japchae,” she said, softly.

“Not hungry.”

“You haven’t eaten all day.”

“Not your problem.”

Her throat tightened. “Why are you so cruel to me?” That got his attention. He looked up eyes colder than she’d ever seen.

“Because you don’t deserve kindness.”

The words hit harder than she expected. She turned to leave, fingers trembling. But then he added, “You took away my choice. My freedom. I’ll never forgive you for that.” She faced him again. “I know. But I’m not asking for forgiveness. Just... a little respect.” He laughed bitterly. “You think you earn respect by buying your way into someone’s life?”

“I didn't buy it,” she whispered. “I begged for it.”

Neo stood, anger burning in his eyes. “Exactly. You begged for something I never wanted. And now you think cooking or gifts can fix it? You're pathetic.”

Silence filled the room again. But this time, something snapped.

Wonyoung straightened her back.

“I may be pathetic for loving someone who hates me,” she said, voice steady. “But you're even more pathetic for punishing someone just because you don’t know how to deal with being loved.”

Y/N blinked.

She walked out before he could speak.

That night, Wonyoung cried in the guest room. Not from regret but from mourning. She mourned the version of Y/N she imagined the one who’d eventually hold her hand, call her mine, maybe even smile.

But dreams don’t cry back.

Dreams don’t slam doors and throw your feelings back in your face.

And maybe love… wasn’t supposed to hurt this much.

Weeks passed.

Wonyoung stopped trying.

No more notes by the coffee, no more homemade meals, no more quiet knock on his study door.

If Y/N wanted space, she’d give him silence.

And to her surprise he noticed.

One morning, he entered the kitchen to find it empty. No breakfast. No scent of freshly brewed coffee.

Just a single housekeeper wiping the counter.

“Where’s Wonyoung?” he asked before realizing how strange it sounded. “She left early, sir. Said she had meetings.” He nodded, confused by the strange tightness in his chest.

By the fourth morning, it happened again.

No Wonyoung.

And just like that, the stillness of the mansion felt... lonely.

She changed.

Not drastically but Y/N noticed.

She stopped wearing soft pastel dresses, the ones she always wore when trying to impress him. Now it was sharp, elegant black. Power suits. Lipstick darker, gaze colder.

She stopped waiting for him to come home.

And that’s when he started coming home earlier.

It was subtle the shift.

He noticed how she now spoke firmly in meetings with their parents, how the board respected her more than ever.

She wasn’t just his wife anymore.

She was becoming herself again.

The girl who used to run barefoot in Jeju fields was gone. In her place stood a woman who no longer begged for love.

And Y/N hated how that made him curious.

One evening, he found himself lingering outside her bedroom door. He didn’t even know why. Maybe to say something. Maybe to ask if she was okay. Maybe…

He froze when he heard her laugh.

Soft. Genuine.

And then a man’s voice.

“Wonyoung, you’ve changed so much. I almost didn’t recognize you.”

Her old college friend. Jihoon. The one she used to mention.

Y/N didn’t go in.

He returned to the east wing, heart pounding, chest tight.

Why did it bother him?

Why did he care?

That night, he couldn’t sleep.

He lay awake staring at the ceiling, haunted by the memory of her laugh.

He remembered when they were kids how she used to follow him around, how she once scraped her knees running after him.

“I don’t care if you hate me,” she had said, eight years old and bleeding.

“I’ll still marry you one day.” He remembered scoffing.

“You’re so annoying.”

“I like you anyway.”

He never thought those words would stick.

But now, as the woman who once cried for him laughed in someone else’s presence something in him cracked.

The next morning, he came down early.

Wonyoung was already there, sipping tea at the long dining table, dressed in black again, scrolling through her phone.

He sat across from her without a word.

She blinked.

“…Good morning?” she offered, cautious.

Y/N didn’t respond right away. Finally, he said, “You weren’t home last night.”

“I was at the gala. You knew that.”

“With Jihoon?"

A pause. “Yes."

Y/N clenched his jaw. “You didn’t text.”

Wonyoung narrowed her eyes. “Why would I?”

He looked up finally really looked at her. She looked... distant. Confident. Untouchable. For the first time, Y/N realized what it felt like to chase someone who was no longer waiting.

“I just wanted to know,” he said quietly. Wonyoung’s gaze lingered on him for a moment. And then, she stood.

“If you’re worried,” she said, tone cool, “don’t be. I’m not the one who ever walked away.”

She left him alone with cold tea and colder regret.

Y/N had always believed he’d won.

He never wanted this marriage. He never wanted her.

And yet he got everything he asked for. His space. His silence. His freedom.

But when Wonyoung finally gave up?

He felt nothing like a winner.

The first time he saw her with Jihoon again, they were at a charity gala. Y/N arrived late, mostly to avoid her.

Bu there she was laughing under chandeliers, her hand grazing Jihoon’s arm, eyes glowing with a peace that once ached for his validation.

For a second, Y/N forgot how to breathe.

Everyone else saw the perfect couple. They whispered:

   “Did she finally move on?”

   “Neo’s letting her go, huh?”

    “Well, she deserves better.”

He gripped his glass tighter.

When Wonyoung’s eyes met his from across the room, he expected a flicker of pain. Of hope. Of anything.

But she just smiled politely.

And looked away.

Back home, he drank more than he should’ve. When he stumbled past her bedroom door at midnight, he stopped. it was cracked open. The light was still on. He pushed it gently. She was seated by the window, still in her gown, hair tied loosely, makeup barely smudged.

“You look tired,” she said without looking at him.

“You look happy,” he replied, voice low.

A beat of silence.

“I am.”

That hurt more than it should’ve.

He walked in slowly. “Do you love him?”

Wonyoung looked at him then. Not with affection. Not even hate.

Just... indifference.

“I don’t know. But he doesn’t make me feel small.”

Neo felt something twist in his chest. “I never meant to"

“Yes, you did.” She cut him off. Calm. Sharp. “You wanted to break me so I’d stop loving you.”

He sat on the edge of the bed, defeated. “Why did you love me in the first place?”

Wonyoung didn’t answer at first.

Then she whispered, “Because you were the first person who didn’t try to buy my attention. You ignored me. I mistook that for honesty.”

“And now?"

“Now I see you just didn’t know how to be kind.”

Y/N lowered his head.

“I hated you,” he said honestly. “Because I thought you stole my life. But the truth is… I never even tried to live it.”

She turned away. “And that’s not my fault.”

Y/N started changing after that.

Not for her.

At least, that’s what he told himself.

He started coming home early again. He texted her updates. He asked if she ate. He asked if she was warm. If she slept well.

She barely responded.

But she noticed.

Because this time, she wasn’t the one chasing.

One rainy evening, Wonyoung found him waiting in the foyer. He was soaked holding an umbrella in one hand, takeout in the other.

“You weren’t at dinner,” he said. “So I brought yours.”

She looked at the bag, then at him. “I have plans.” “With Jihoon?” “…Yes.” Y/N swallowed, eyes downcast. “I’m sorry,” he said. “For what?” “For every year I wasted pushing you away.”

She didn’t speak.

Instead, she walked past him, grabbing her coat from the hanger. But just before the door, she stopped.

“I used to cry for you, you know,” she whispered. “Now I just cry for the girl who thought she had to earn your love.”

And with that, she left.

Y/N stood there, holding her favorite noodles, hands shaking.

He had everything now.

But for the first time…

He realized he might’ve lost her.

The silence between them wasn't angry anymore.

It was just sad.

Heavy.

Like two people sitting in the wreckage of a home they both destroyed but only one tried to rebuild.

Neo watched her drift further away each day. She no longer avoided him but she didn’t reach for him either. They had conversations now. Small ones. About business. About schedules.

But never about them.

One night, Wonyoung came home later than usual. It was nearing midnight. She looked tired hair wet from rain, coat clinging to her frame.

Y/N was waiting at the kitchen table. A single plate sat in front of her seat. Her favorite ramyeon with egg, the kind she used to make for him when he was sick.

She paused.

“You didn’t have to wait,” she said, setting her bag down.

“I wanted to.” She sat. Quietly. He watched her eat. And then, as her spoon paused halfway, he finally spoke:

“Let’s get a divorce.”

She blinked.

Her lips parted slightly, but no words came out.

He continued. “You deserve a life where you’re loved back. I was so scared of being trapped that I didn’t realize I was the one locking the door.”

Wonyoung set her spoon down. “What changed?”

Y/N looked at her really looked.

“You did.”

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You stopped begging. And I finally saw you.”

She stared at him for a long time.

Then, she stood up and quietly walked away.

The next morning, Y/N woke up to an empty house.

Her clothes were gone.

Her ring was on the table.

And a letter.

He hesitated before opening it.

-Y/N,

You said something I never thought I’d hear. And I want to thank you for it.

Thank you for finally seeing me.

But I can’t stay.

Not because I hate you. But because I finally love myself enough to walk away.

You were the boy I waited for.

But I’m done waiting.

I hope you find peace someday.

-Wonyoung

-TIMESKIP-

Two years later, Y/N walked through a gallery in Paris.

He wasn’t expecting to see her painting on the wall.

It was an abstract of her, pale skin, brown short hair, floral dress, clashing at the center but blending by the edges.

The title read:

“What Love Looks Like When You Let It Go.”

And there she was.

Standing in the crowd, hair shorter now, smile warmer, fingers laced with someone else’s.

He didn’t approach.

He didn’t interrupt.

He just watched, quietly.

And smiled.

Because for once, he finally loved her the right way.

By letting her go.

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finally got the confidence to post this, it has been on my google docs for a LOOOOOONG time. i hope my non existent readers enjoy lololol byeeee

[jannng]

loml

you didnt even look back.

just left the keys on the table,

like i was just a place you stayed at,

not someone you loved.

you were quiet at the end,

not angry, not cruel,

just… quiet

i begged you to say something,

to lie if you had to,

just to make it hurt less.

but you only said,

“its not you. its just not love anymore.”

funny.

i thought our love wouldn't end.

i thought we were different.

our planned future ahead.

house near the beach.

but i guess i thought wrong.

about everything.

and now,

you’re someone i used to know.

someone who knew every inch of me

and still walked away.

you were the love of my life.

and now the lost of my life.

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hope u guys like my first very very veryyyy short story.

please suggest stories and i want to learn more about writing thankyou!!