#Kactor

[astrogazing]

[almostwisegalaxy]

Mama's boy Her boy.

Yeon Sieun x fem!reader

The reader has a shy character in this story

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The following Monday, it was raining.

Not a heavy rain, but that constant drizzle, almost annoying, that makes the air heavy and humid, as if the sky itself was caught in a silence filled with unshed tears. Yeon Si-eun was waiting, his back against the worn wall of the school's annex. He wasn't supposed to be there, but he had volunteered for the tutoring program. Not out of altruism. He had simply thought it would fill the void in a useful way.

Then she entered the room. Y/n. She was wearing an oversized sweatshirt, the sleeves covering her hands, and her bag seemed to almost slide off her shoulder. She didn't say anything, just nodded, her eyes avoiding his. But Si-eun had already noticed the slight tension in her fingers, the careful handling of her notebook, the way she stood between presence and erasure.

That was his way of observing.

The first sessions were silent, almost cold. He explained, she nodded. Sometimes she asked a question, her voice soft but firm, never looking at him for too long. He pretended it didn't bother him, but his mind, usually as orderly as a strategy game, began to fall apart.

He didn't understand. Why, when his eyes met y/n's, did he feel as if he was truly seen for the first time? Not as a smart or distant boy, nor as a tool for knowledge or controlled violence, but simply as a boy. Just a boy.

And that was the beginning of the obsession.

He began to look forward to these sessions like a starving animal. He noted everything: the way y/n paused to think, the way she switched pens while nibbling on the old one, the little smile she allowed herself when she understood something. He even started to hang around the community center where she sometimes came with her younger siblings.

He watched her take care of them with a tenderness almost fierce. They pulled at her arms, climbed on her back, knocked over her bag. And she, instead of getting annoyed, laughed softly. A laugh so discreet, yet so alive, that it took his breath away.

Si-eun, on the other hand, had never been held in loving arms.

Not even by his mother. Especially not by her.

The rare times she was around, she would stand in the kitchen, looking at her phone. She would nod when he spoke, but her eyes were always elsewhere. He remembered, as a child, tugging at his mother's sleeve to get a glance, a word, a gesture. But she was always too busy. Too absent. And eventually, he had stopped asking. What was the point?

So, when y/n occasionally brushed against him without thinking – a light touch of an arm, a hand brushing – it felt like a soft burn, an unbearable warmth he longed to replicate.

And he did.

One day, he pretended to have a headache. He staggered as he sat down. Y/n, concerned, placed her hand on his arm, then gently on his forehead.

He closed his eyes.

He wanted time to stop.

When he opened them, she was looking at him. And there was no fear. No pity. Just sincere concern.

Then, little by little, he allowed himself. One day, he leaned in, testing the waters. Another, he asked if she liked kids, feigning indifference. Then he dared more: he stayed after class longer. He walked her to the bus stop. He got into the habit of waiting for her.

Then, one night, he cracked.

It was raining again. Still that fine rain.

She had offered him an umbrella, and without really knowing why, he stepped closer. Too close. She smelled like soap and wind. And he held her. Against him. Against his chest. Barely, just enough.

He didn't say anything. He couldn't.

But his hands were shaking. He buried his face against her, like a lost child. And she didn't push him away. She even held him tighter.

That night, he cried.

Not loudly. Not sobbing. But those silent tears, almost shameful, that come from too far. From too deep. The ones that never find their way except in a moment when everything breaks just a little.

Y/n didn't say anything. She just kept her arms around him. Like a port. Like a refuge. And Yeon Si-eun thought: is this love?

Or was it simply the desperate need to finally feel loved?

Sometimes, when she laughed, he felt a hole in his chest. As if something wanted to get out, but he didn't know how. He wanted to tell her everything: the loneliness, the silences at home, the lack of attention. But he couldn't. So he just looked at her. With his sad eyes, those that silently said: love me. See me. Welcome me.

And she did.

He became dependent. On her arms. On her presence. He loved lying against her when he could. Once, she had run her fingers through his hair, thinking he was asleep. He wasn't asleep. He carved that moment into him like a promise.

But a persistent fear remained.

What if she left? What if she looked at him one day the way his mother looked at him? Without really seeing him?

So he became a little colder, a little more distant. To protect himself. But she, she didn't give up. She held on. She came back. Again and again. Each time.

And little by little, he thawed. Not like in the movies. Not all at once. But over time. With her.

He loved her. No, he was crazy about her.

It wasn't a loud love. It was a feline, gnawing, vital love. She was everything he had never received. Everything he had never dared ask for.

And every day, he silently prayed: let her stay.

Let her keep looking at him.

Let her keep loving him.

Because in her arms, for the first time, Yeon Si-eun was a loved son, a protected boy, a young man in love.

Finally alive.

---

Si-eun found himself in a place that, once upon a time, would have seemed nonsensical to him. A place that had no place in his cold, controlled world. At y/n's house. He never thought this could happen. Not him, the forgotten child of a constantly absent father, the cold silhouette of a rejected son. But reality was there. In her arms. In her breath against his. In the familiar sounds of the evening, the soft light of the entrance to her home.

He had never wanted to go, but she had invited him, insisting with a tone that allowed no objection. "You deserve to relax. You don’t come enough." And so, he had come, the first time. He stayed. He left. But his mind never left that place.

y/n lived in a house full of children's laughter, hurried footsteps, and voices that never stopped. She had two younger brothers and a sister. Every time he came, they greeted him with raw enthusiasm. He remembered their first glance. They had studied him, this strange boy who seemed so different from their older sister. But they had become attached to him, like children do with a protective figure. He, who had never had that.

y/n’s parents were rarely around. Often gone for work or other obligations, like invisible shadows in y/n's life. This left a void that she filled with her kindness, her patience. Si-eun had once seen her take care of her siblings after a long school day, her hands constantly moving, her gaze always gentle and reassuring. But when she saw him, she became something else, calmer. She didn't need words to express how she felt about him. And him... he no longer needed to pretend.

The first time he had nestled against her, he hadn’t thought. He had simply given into the warmth, this warmth he had never known. She was lying on the couch, her legs curled up, and he had sat next to her, then slowly, like a child seeking protection, he had leaned in until their bodies were almost touching. y/n hadn’t said anything, but her arms had surrounded him. And, suddenly, the world stopped spinning for him. All that mattered was the beat of her heart against his own. This connection, silent but meaningful.

It became a silent ritual. After school, he spent more and more time at her place. Sometimes, he just came to be in the same room as her. Sometimes, he lay beside her, closing his eyes. Their conversations were simple, but so full of unspoken words. Talks about trivial things that, somehow, seemed to resonate with a depth he had never known.

One evening, after playing a game with her siblings, he sat next to y/n on the couch. She was reading a book, but her fingers barely touched the pages. He watched her, his eyes never leaving her face. A slight smile played on her lips. "You have tired eyes." She looked at him, a little surprised, but didn’t say anything. Then she turned toward him. "It's because I worry about you."

Her words struck his mind like a cold wind, piercing the barrier he had built. Why would she worry about him? Her, the light in his life? Her, who knew how to give without asking? Why would she have empathy for him, a boy no one wanted to see?

She felt his silence. "You know, Si-eun, I’m not that naive. I see what you’re hiding. I see that you’re tired, that you carry all of this alone." She placed a light hand on his thigh. "You don’t have to carry it all alone."

It was strange. Her words, simple, hit him with such force that it hurt. She wasn’t rejecting him. She wasn’t fleeing from that dark side of him. She accepted him. She accepted him as he was. For him, it was nothing short of a revolution. No one had ever accepted him. Not even his mother. He looked up at her, his lips trembling slightly. "I... I don’t know how to be... the person you want."

She shook her head gently, her hair swaying slightly. "I don’t want anything from you, Si-eun. I just want you. All of you."

He swallowed. She didn’t understand. Or maybe she understood more than he thought. He pulled back slightly, embarrassed. But she didn’t let him go. She gently pulled him back toward her. And, without a word, she held him in her arms. This time, he didn’t pull away. He nestled against her, tighter, longer. He let her hold him. Her arms around him were a silent promise of protection. He allowed it. He had never had this feeling of being at home, of being truly at home, in someone else’s arms.

She rocked him gently, almost as if she had known him forever. She blew softly in his hair, her hands sliding slowly over his back, soothing. "I’m not going anywhere, Si-eun. You are my home. I’ll always be here."

He felt the warmth of her breath. His heart raced in his chest. He closed his eyes, a weight on his shoulders slowly dissipating. He didn’t need words. This contact, this simple embrace, was more than anything he could have asked for. The fear of abandonment, of rejection, melted into the air. He was no longer afraid. Because y/n was there.

A kiss. Soft, light. But everything changed. Her lips met his, at first timidly, like a question with no immediate answer. Then the kiss became more urgent, more essential, as if they had both been waiting for this moment without ever daring to say it. He gave himself to her, to this warmth that had always been missing in his life.

They stayed there, in that gentle silence, in that refuge. Si-eun had never wanted to be loved. But he had needed it so much. And there, in y/n's arms, he was no longer that cold and distant boy. He was just a man, a man in love, who had found his home.

She stroked the back of his neck, slowly, without haste. He didn’t move, enjoying every second. No need for more. Just to be here, with her. She kissed him again, her lips brushing his. A kiss to tell him he wasn’t alone. A kiss to tell him he was loved.

That night, he slept in her arms. Not out of desire, but to hear her breath, to feel her warmth. He had never wanted to sleep anywhere but here, in this place where he was welcomed, loved. He didn’t have to be anyone else. He could just be himself. And he knew, deep down, that he would always be with her.

At her place. At home. Together.

Forever.

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Requests are open. Enjoy!

[1liv]

LEE JUN-YOUNG as GEUM SEONG-JE in WEAK HERO CLASS 2 - Episode 4

[mjracles]

gong yoo as the salesman in squid game season 2 - invitation video (2024)

(source)

[penny44224]

I need fanfics, smut anything about THIS MAN STAT PLEASE (blame the video of him carrying a mickey plushie😀)

[loserlvrss]

𝐃𝐎N'T N𝗘𝗘D TO 𝙎AY IT ───── weak hero class ꒰ y. sieun xreader # ). was i just a little too late?

newton’s third law: for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction 𓂃. sieun hadn’t forgiven himself for what happened to suho. you could tell, eyes don't lie.

★ slight spoilers for season one , , angst / hurt-comfort ⓘmentions of fighting blood & cuts 🛞 3kish

It’s said that the eyes are the window to the soul—the way you see everything beautiful in the world. But then the opposite would have to reign true too, wouldn’t it? They can be cold or full of warmth and love. They tell you so much about a person. 

A gift given and so easily taken. 

Horrified was an understatement. “What the fuck… did you do?” Disturbed by the sight in front of you; Your best friend, half-dead in a sterilized room, you couldn’t believe your eyes. 

Immediately, the man at the patient's side got to his feet, spinning around to face you in the doorway. He had a sickly look, worse than one from just a stomach ache. His mouth opened and closed, clearly not sure what to say—what would be right to say. His eyes were teary, obviously distraught. But you couldn’t see past the blue-hot rage rushing through you. There was a knife in your hand, and you didn’t care who it was pointed at. 

Just that it hit someone. 

That it made them feel pain like you did—like you couldn’t stand. Call it selfish, but if you were going to feel destroyed, then you’d do the same to everyone else. 

“It’s not fair!” Your voice raised, and so did some walls; ones you thought were lowered enough for the man in front of you to create an understanding strong enough to outweigh the tragedy. To trauma-bond. But, nothing compared to the feeling of losing someone you never thought you would, “I can’t pretend anymore. I can’t see you sit here everyday. I hate this—them. You. I can’t stand to see you, Si-eun, get out of my face!” 

But it was the guilt. The agony. Maybe you should’ve been the one in the hospital bed, you bargained, you should be the one who dies, not him. 

…It wasn’t always like that though. 

You used to be a normal friend group. You used to laugh. You used to joke. You used to hang out at random snack stands. You used to deny your feelings for Si-eun, back when Suho was the only one who knew (you barely even knew). Feel comfortable. You used to call Beom-Seok someone you trusted, someone you liked. You used to be able to look in the mirror and not hate who was staring back at you. You used to be dedicated to studying, focused on the future. But now all you felt was comatose, regretful of a past you felt you hadn’t appreciated enough. A closeness between people you held and let vanish. A gaping hole that you now only had a shovel in. 

“Yeon Si-eun,” Your friend motioned to the shorter boy next to him who was clutching the straps of his backpack, “I saved him, I’m sure you heard.” 

“Actually, I heard you stopped him.” You contradicted, eyeing over the man who was expressionless, even after you imposed his violence, “I heard he would’ve killed those boys.” 

Ice-cold. That’s what Suho described Si-eun as a day ago when he was sitting on your bed, and you could see it. But it seemed like he only disguised himself with that to survive, to not draw attention, to mask a pain that was deep-rooted. 

Or maybe it just took one to know one. 

“It’s nice to meet you… Yeon Si-eun.” You held out your hand to him, “Yn, Suho’s best friend—not girlfriend, he’s definitely not my type.” 

Suho threw his head back, rolling his eyes, “Yeah, whatever, fuck you. I’m everyone’s type, right Si-eun?” 

The familiar beat of a popular song started playing, and you immediately stood up. You grabbed a spoon and an empty Soju bottle from off the table, putting them together as a makeshift microphone for the time being. 

Suho’s eyebrows rose as you joined Beom-Seok in the middle of the small room, iconically singing Mingyu’s opening to HOT by SEVENTEEN. 

Then, he burst out laughing, dragging Si-eun’s body back and forth as he practically spasmed in his seat. But Si-eun had a smile on his face too, arms crossed over his chest—though, not because he was uncomfortable, it was natural looking. Something you could get used to seeing more often. 

He didn’t want to, but he was opening up to your friend, in turn, you and Beom-Seok as well.

“Here,” You glanced up from the mock exam you were bent over at a familiar voice, sights meeting a very calm Si-eun. He had a bruise on his cheekbone that he tried to hide by turning his head, but you saw it. You knew he knew you did too. “Suho got you a snack.” 

“And he didn’t give it to me?” You quizzed, going back to the paper, although setting the pen down, “I thought he was a delivery boy.” 

Si-eun let out a huffed-laugh, and your eyes widened in surprise, hidden by your downturned gaze. He knew how to do that when Suho wasn’t around? 

“Are you two dating?” Suho laughed out, resting further back into the couch cushion behind him, “Because you look good together.” 

“You know he doesn’t have eyes for anyone but you,” 

Suho scoffed, your eyes rolling in return. But you could tell your best friend caught the way you glanced in Si-eun’s direction after, “Besides, I’m too busy to date anyone—especially, one of you guys who keep fighting like a bunch of… well, men. I have standards, you know. And, I’m so close to leaving the country to study abroad. I hate long distance, I don’t think I could do it.”

Si-eun remained silent, looking curiously between you two. He was a man of few words, however, you often could tell his emotion now; through body language, through slight variations in his expressions. Call it intuition. 

Perhaps the opposite reigned true as well though. 

Definitely not a crush. 

“Did you seriously fail again?” You gawked in Suho’s direction, “I gave you the answers this time!” 

Then your hand was flying out to lightly smack the man next to you on the arm. He flinched, grabbing at where you made contact—though you know he’s been hit harder. You’ve even seen it. And, as much as it was terrifying, you had to hand it to him, he had determination. 

“Si-eun! What happened to getting him to pass?” 

His eyes were wide, innocently so, “We were working all night.” 

Beom-Seok, who was next to Suho in the restaurant booth, let out a chuckle, just listening. He knew you’d spare no offense in mocking your friend's lack of educational-dedication. But, you knew Suho had other priorities, you just wished he’d listen to your pleas a little more than he actually did. 

Though, it didn’t stop you from joking, knowing you’d stay up ‘till dawn to help him memorize the periodic table, and algebraic formulas again and again if you had to. “Working… hardly at all, I see.” 

“That’s not funny, yn, I tried my best!” 

“You fell asleep halfway through, the only circles you were drawing was from the drool coming out of your mouth!” 

Laughter sounded in the small space, and you realized that maybe a simple life was better than all the exotic future plans; the adventures you wanted to go on with Suho, the better life you thought you could give Si-eun, the childlike love you had for the three of them. 

Maybe you didn’t want to leave after highschool. Maybe you wanted to stay and grow with them instead—there were plenty of good schools here that could offer you piloting classes. 

“Can I ask you something, Si-eun?” You stumbled into him, grabbing at his arm to steady yourself. You could feel his body tense, but then relax. “Did Suho actually get me that during exam season?” 

Eventually, you came to a stop outside a snack shop, one that sold Tteokbokki and fish cakes, and you squealed—shifting through your purse for some loose cash. In your intoxicated state, you thought that sounded like the most delicious thing you could eat. 

As you were shifting through your bag clumsily, Si-eun had already bought you a platter by the time you looked up with a bill clutched between your fingers. 

He wordlessly handed you a toothpick to stab the rice cakes with, while he held a cup with skewed fish cakes and broth for you later. 

You didn’t know why he offered to walk you home, you lived in the opposite direction of him, but you were glad it was him by your side. You were glad he caught you when you stumbled. You were just glad it was Yeon Si-eun: someone you thought you’d only see from a far. 

Your lip jutted out at the gesture, “Really?” 

He slightly shrugged, “You looked excited.” 

You took a bite, the spiciness hitting the spot. You loved it, it was one of your favorite ways to eat food. 

“I, uh—like you.” You slurred through a mouthful, giggling and then slapping your lips with a gasp, “Wait! Did I just say that? I’m sorry. It’s true but, I mean I didn’t—wasn’t going to say anything—” 

“Yn... I like you too.” 

But then everything came crashing down. Every plan you had crumbled. Every scooter ride with Suho where you would scold him for going too fast or taking a turn too sharp suddenly seemed like a luxury you’d never get back. Every stolen glance between you and Si-eun, every light brush of the hand, every word that went unsaid seemed like it would now remain as a stain on your heart. Every rainbow was monotone, void of color in a world that used to be so vibrant. Every smile and joke, and I trust you and I love you’s were in the past, long-lost to a violent and pain-filled future. 

One you never in a million years would have planned for. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” Si-eun never said much, and when he did it was blunt and to the point. Some might say he was rude, cold, but truthfully, you think he just felt like nobody ever listened if it wasn’t short-winded and sharp enough to cut. “I don’t need your pity.” 

He’d gotten into another fight, God knows when, and somehow ended up at your doorstep. A cold night, maybe reflective of the sorrow in the air. The weight on his shoulders. The crushing guilt. 

He swore he’d stop. 

But It was always a fight. It was always punches and kicks that ruined everything. And eventually, it hit hard enough to break your heart in a million pieces. 

You weren’t exactly close anymore, after what happened to your best friend Ahn Suho last year, but you couldn’t resist opening the door wide enough for the man to make his way in. 

Afterall, you used to be friends, and something in between. You used to know him. 

And there was something alluring about Si-eun. He’s always had it—the way his eyes portray every emotion on his otherwise monotone face. The way he walks around like an aimless vessel. You hadn’t seen him in a while, but it seemed like something had broken inside him since that time, something darker by nature. But something sadder, too, lived simultaneously. 

You reached to the side, grabbing a tube branded by some antibacterial ointment off of the sinks porcelain. 

“I don’t pity you, Si-eun.” You replied, squeezing a glob onto the end of a cotton swab, “Not after what happened.” 

He slumped over a little more at your words, avoiding your gaze by looking at the ground instead, where you stood in front of him. He was sitting on the toilet, after you’d caught a glimpse of the bruises and cuts his skin had, ushering him into the bathroom to play doctor. 

Truthfully, you don’t know why you did it—why you opened the door. Maybe it was the moonlight that glistened over his features, the ones you used to admire all those months back. Maybe it was the clear sense of longing that overtook your body when you’d finally heard a word from him—a broken plea, your name, from his cut up lips. Maybe it was the familiarity of a past life you missed. 

Maybe it was because he was the only thing you had left of Suho… The only memory you could stand to remember. 

Si-eun sighed, hands coming together in his lap. He shifted, almost like he was uncomfortable—but, you can’t remember the last time you’d actually seen him be comfortable; Maybe it was before your shared friend went into a coma, or maybe he never has been. 

However, somewhere deep down you could see the smile on his face that used to brighten up any room. One that would only come out when Suho, Beom-Seok, you and him would hang out. Back before everything ripe turned rotten. Back when it was the four of you against the world. Before the bloodied knuckles and bruised eye sockets. 

Before you told Si-eun you couldn’t stand to see him anymore, that one stupidly contrasting day; sunny and boiling hot, to your harsh and cold tongue. 

You couldn’t will yourself to remember, but you’d never actually forget what everyone at your school seemingly has; the boy in the back of the class who slept so soundly despite the noise, the straight A student who broke and moved schools, and the man who suddenly went missing before the dew on the spring leaves even began to dry.

“I’m sorry,” He whispered out under a breath, “I’m really sorry, yn.” 

And suddenly all you could see behind your eyes was the disheartened look of a man who sat outside your shared lifelines hospital room. Shoulders hunched as he typed messages he feared would never be read. As he held back tears and swallowed down the crushing guilt. 

He’d seen you once, but there was a lifeless look behind his eyes. One that you couldn’t recognize, like he didn’t recognize. A vague sense of displacement, hopelessly devoted, like he couldn’t stand to see himself reflected off of you. 

And that’s when you realized, he never stopped blaming himself. He bent only so far before he broke. You heard about it; Smashing widows and cracking bones. You heard the desperation in his cries. Your heart shattered with him and for him: Everything Si-eun used to be. Everything Si-eun could’ve been. It all came crashing down, and he was still trying to climb out of the rubble. 

And that’s why you distanced yourself from his name. Because it hurt too much to see the what-if’s that never happened… But could’ve. Everything Si-eun should’ve been to you. It hurt too much when people would ask you how Suho was doing (for the first couple of weeks), if he’s progressed or had taken a turn for the worse, so you stopped going to school.

What Si-eun was doing now, so you erased him from your memory, pretending you’d never met. How you were holding up losing everything you had ever wanted, so you tried anything to protect your heart.

You hated them. You despised them. They took everything from you. The choice you never got to make. A version of yourself you were still mourning. The happiness your friends brought you. Suho, Beom-seok… Si-eun. 

“For what?” You laid your palm against his cheek, lifting his head enough to apply the ointment over a rather deep cut. You didn’t think that was the thing pestering him though. Still, he avoided your gaze. And you were going to ignore it until you felt a tear brush past your hand. 

You put the cotton swab down, taking the other side of his face. He unconsciously leaned into the touch. The warmth on his cold skin. The comfort that you would always bring. Suho always said you were the sunlight on a cloudy day, but you’ve never felt more overcast than you do now. 

But then, finally, your eyes met, tears falling slowly over your thumbs as you brushed them away. 

And, for the first time in what felt like forever, you saw it. The scars that were constantly ripped open. The inner-turmoil that was debilitating: Not eating and not sleeping. You saw it. The love he harbored and pushed aside, respecting your wishes to never see his face again. You saw it. 

“It wasn’t your fault.” 

And maybe the beliefs had gotten it wrong, all the stories that said the eyes were the window to the soul, because all you could see was a reflection of the person looking back at you. All you could see in Si-eun’s eyes was you. 

“It’s not your fault, Si-eun.” 

The air was coated in a mutual understanding; It lingered. The pain lingered… He lingered. The memory has seemingly dug its claws deeply into your heart and wouldn’t let up. He knew it, you knew it. There was something so devastatingly romantic about it all—how evil life could be. It took and it gave, and it was never fair. Inflicted wounds that only got infected, but gave you someone who was hurting the same way. Someone who related to the way you couldn’t close your eyes without being haunted. The torment your heart felt. 

But the price tag on codependency was high, and you didn’t seem to have the funds back then—the will to stay. 

You should’ve stayed. You should’ve been his comfort, his friend and something in between. You shouldn’t have been scared to keep him close, afraid you’d lose him as you lost your safety-net. 

“I-I—“ He started, “I haven’t been able to sleep since. I haven’t been able to close my eyes without seeing him. I-I—it’s my fault, yn, he shouldn’t have gotten involved. None of you should’ve. I’m sorry,” 

Suho had never let you get involved in his hobby to learn self-defense skills, and then Si-eun came along and suddenly it was all fists and glory. Guardian-angel this, guardian-angel that. 

Nonetheless, maybe the eyes were insightful. Because you saw it. A play-by-play of every interaction: When Suho introduced you to his new friend who he described as ‘cold as ice’, to two-weeks later when you sang karaoke, and three-months in when you got drunk and confessed your undying love for Si-eun. Then Beom-seok selling you all out because of jealousy, and fight after stupid fucking fight. Crumbling, crushing, shattering. And then nothing. Everyone was suddenly gone, and sometimes that felt longer than them actually being in your life. 

And you blamed him only because you needed someone to blame. But your guilt ate at you. 

As he did too. 

“I forgave you, Si-eun.” You leaned down, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He hesitated before you felt the embrace you longed for—the embrace he longed for. “Forgive yourself.” 

reblogs appreciated ! loserlrvss 2025 rights reserved. @kstrucknet @slytherinshua @gyuwrites @sknyuz

[heavenstars]

Lee Jun Young as Geum Seong Je - Episode 8 (Weak hero class 2)

[suuho]

heavy and hard is the heart of the king, king of iron, king of steel. the heart of the king loves everything, like the hammer loves the nail. but even the hardest of hearts unhardened, suddenly, when he saw her there.

KIM WOO-HYUNG as HADES in HADESTOWN Korea (2021) (insp.)

[kpop-locks]

꒰ ˀˀ ↷ lee dong wook ; simple ”♡ᵎ ꒱

like/reblog | @exolyxions

don’t repost our work or claim it as yours

[kdramaspace]

Cha Eunwoo 차은우 — Elle Korea | February (2025)⠀⠀

[isabelleadjani]

KIM GO-EUN & NOH SANG-HYUN for ELLE Korea, October 2024

[littlescorp1o]

the face card is insane

[almostwisegalaxy]

On my knees In front of you standing for you

Yeon Sieun x Depressed fem!reader

in this story the reader is baku's sister

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The small restaurant, though modest, resonated with a familiar commotion that evening. Hu-min’s laughter, always too loud, drowned out the crackling radio playing an old Korean trot song. Gotak finished his bowl of ramyeon with fervor, and Jun-tae meticulously cut his kimchi, as if it were a surgical operation. Yeon Si-eun, for his part, kept his arms crossed, his eyes skimming the table, pretending to be interested in the texture of the wood.

He wasn't there for the meal. Not really. Since they had entered, he had sensed something—a weight, a draft, an extra heartbeat—something dissonant in that narrow space. He intermittently stared at the slightly torn curtain that led to the back of the restaurant, where Hu-min had disappeared shouting a “Be right back, gotta check something!” too exaggerated not to be a habit.

Then she had appeared.

Not in a beam of light, not with her hair floating in slow motion like in dramas. She was just there, suddenly, standing in the doorway, barefoot, arms hanging loosely. Her eyes were vacant. As if she saw no one, or perhaps everyone at once.

Y/N.

Yeon Si-eun didn't know why his stomach had turned. She wasn't doing anything. She was just there. He felt a cramp at the base of his neck, a strange tension he had only known once before, facing an unpredictable opponent. But there, it wasn't about strategy or threat. It was something else. A subtle panic. A curiosity with fangs.

She had approached her brother silently. Hu-min had turned around, surprised, then immediately smiling. A smile that, Si-eun now realized, was too rushed, too automatic. The kind of smile that says, "Don't fall apart in front of them. Please.”

"Aren't you sleeping?"

She shrugged almost imperceptibly. And in that simple gesture, Yeon Si-eun saw more than he had seen in some of his former enemies. A nameless weariness. A broken mechanism. Someone who wasn't made for words but had too much to say.

"I heard... you were laughing too loudly. I thought... you had fallen."

Her voice was cracked, like a silk thread stretched too tight. Hu-min caught her by the shoulder and massaged the back of her neck as one calms a wounded animal.

"I'm fine, Y/N. I'm just loud, you know that. Go back and rest, huh?"

She didn't answer. Her eyes slid across the room. They met Si-eun's.

It was only a second. But for him, it was enough.

There was nothing romantic about it. No projection, no idealization. Just a look, full of fatigue, shame, stifled anger. A frozen storm. And something, deep inside him, started to scream.

"Why her? Why now?"

He didn't know her story, but he knew that expression. He had seen it on the faces of some comrades before they disappeared. Before they left messages that no one really understood.

While Gotak wrestled with a sauce stain and Jun-tae tried to understand a math memo, Si-eun kept his eyes on her. She wasn't smiling. She wasn't doing anything to be noticed. And yet, every detail of her presence electrified him: the sleeves that were too long, the dark circles under her eyes that shouldn't exist at her age, the way she stood as if breathing was an act that required permission.

Hu-min had gently pushed her back towards the curtain.

"I'll join you in a bit. Promise."

She had turned her head. Another moment. Just long enough for Si-eun to feel his breath catch in his throat.

She wasn't pretty, in the classic sense. Not radiant, nor gentle. She looked absent. Like a photograph too many years old. But that absence, that was precisely what had captured him. That void that called out. That void that screamed.

Since that night, he hadn't been able to shake it off.

He didn't yet know if it was attraction, compassion, or an obsession born of his own loneliness. But Y/N now haunted his silences. His analyses crumbled as soon as he thought of her. He had surprised himself by returning to the restaurant two days later, alone. Pretending he had forgotten something. Then another time. And again.

But she didn't reappear.

He understood that she rarely went out. And only to follow her brother's voice, like a cracked compass.

This made her absence more present than any presence.

He began to observe Hu-min, to dissect the moments when his mask slipped, when his laughter was too high-pitched. He told himself that he had to know. That he saw her suffering. But that he couldn't do anything. Not alone.

It was then that Yeon Si-eun felt the first real shiver of fear in a long time.

Not for himself.

For her.

And something within him stretched, slowly, painfully, like a promise being born in the dark: he would see her again. He would understand her. He had no right to ignore her.

Not her.

---

That day, Y/N rose slowly, as if each movement was a struggle against gravity. The curtain of the small room where she and her brother usually slept was drawn, and light barely filtered through the holes. She knew it had been too long since she had felt Hu-min's presence. It was a sensation she couldn't ignore, a void that wouldn't disappear. Usually, he was there, with his loud laughter and his voice too loud to be ignored. But today, it was as if he had gone silent.

She got up, her legs trembling with the effort, her bare feet softly hitting the cold floor. Each step brought her closer to the door, but she felt as if her body was resisting this movement, as if it didn't want to let her cross that threshold. Yet, she went out. The house felt different when Hu-min wasn't there to fill the space with his noisy presence, his incessant attempts to make her smile.

When she arrived at the school, the boys were in a classroom at the end of the hallway. The place, like everything else, was steeped in a heavy, cold atmosphere. It was where they often gathered, together, away from prying eyes. When Y/N entered the room, she paused for a moment on the threshold, her eyes frantically searching for the three boys.

Jun-tae looked up and, before Si-eun and Gotak had even reacted, he noticed her, his face hardening for an instant. She wasn't supposed to be here. Not now. Not in this state.

"Hu-min…" Her voice, trembling, broke the heavy silence of the room. "Where is he? Where is my brother ?"

The boys exchanged a quick glance. Si-eun didn't need more to understand. He knew this question was coming. He also knew what it implied. He couldn't tell her the truth, at least not bluntly. Not yet.

"He… he went somewhere. But he'll be back soon." Si-eun's answer was measured, almost cold, as if it belonged to a different world than Y/N's. He didn't dare worry her too much, but he felt a heavy truth beneath his words. "Don't worry, he just has some things to take care of."

Y/N looked at him, deep confusion in her eyes. She frowned. Her lips tightened, an expression of vulnerability that didn't suit her. "He promised me we'd go to the aquarium... We were supposed to… he was supposed to come back." She lowered her head, then, suddenly, her gaze fell on Gotak, whose face was graver than ever, and who looked away.

"He'll be back, Y/N. Don't worry," Gotak repeated, trying to sound reassuring, but his tone betrayed a worry that even he couldn't hide.

Y/N didn't answer immediately. She stared at the floor, her mind lost in a thick, distant haze. She wasn't in this room. Her thoughts were elsewhere, further away, towards a place where promises were broken, and where Hu-min was no longer the person she had known.

Sadness, an unbearable weight, slowly seeped into her. She felt like a spectator of her own life. She could no longer connect with others, understand laughter, understand words. She only knew that, without Hu-min, this world became too vast and too cold for her.

Yeon Si-eun finally stood up, his gaze fixed on Y/N with an intensity he hadn't yet dared to show her. He had seen the hidden suffering behind her eyes. He had seen the way she fled from herself, the way she hid in silence, as if she were afraid of everything that was alive. But he couldn't leave her in this state.

"He'll be back," he repeated, but this time, it wasn't a promise, it was a statement. He didn't know exactly what was happening, but he knew it wouldn't be easy for any of them.

Y/N didn't answer. She turned slowly and, without a word, left the room. The sound of her footsteps faded in the hallway, taking with it some of the heavy air in the room.

The boys remained there, not knowing what to say. Jun-tae sighed deeply. Gotak clenched his fists on the table. Si-eun, for his part, found himself once again facing the reality of the situation. He knew Y/N wouldn't see it this way, but he now understood that everything was connected: Hu-min, his laughter, his secrets, and Y/N's invisible suffering. They were caught in a vortex far more complex than they could have imagined.

But for now, they only had one thing to do: protect this fragile balance, protect the facade they were maintaining. Because it was all going to collapse soon.

That night, Y/N went to bed early, as was her habit. Her body was heavy, almost numb. But before closing her eyes, she thought of a promise Hu-min had made her. A promise he hadn't been able to keep.

"I'll be back."

---

FLASHBACK – About ten years ago

Little Y/N was barely five years old at the time. Two big, curious eyes, round cheeks, and that clear laugh that sounded like a jingle bell shaken a little too fast. She was shy, yes—she hid behind her brother when strangers spoke to them—but around him, she transformed.

With Hu-min, she was a sunbeam.

"Oppaaaaaa! You're running too fast!" she cried one day, arms outstretched, struggling to keep up with the two boys who were dashing ahead.

"You're too slow, Y/N! You're a slug!" Baek-jin teased, laughing.

"Am not!" she retorted, puffing out her cheeks. "You're cheating because you have dinosaur legs!"

The three children burst into laughter, collapsing onto the park ground, out of breath. Hu-min had grabbed his little sister and spun her around in the air before setting her down, laughing.

"There's my super flying Y/N! Faster than a hungry pigeon!"

She started laughing so hard that she got the hiccups.

In those days, Y/N thought life was simple: running, laughing, teasing Baek-jin calling him Jin-nie, building forts under the sheets, and eating candy stolen from the cupboard when their father hadn't come home yet.

But the house changed when the sun went down.

And especially, it changed when their father came home.

The sound of the key in the lock froze the air. Silence fell like a contained storm.

Y/N would freeze. Always. Like an animal that hears the predator approaching. Hu-min, on the other hand, would switch to autopilot. He would go get their father's slippers, discreetly remove any bottles from the table, grab Y/N's hand, and take her to their small room.

"Close the door, okay? Don't say a word. Even if you hear shouting."

She would nod, trembling. Her hands were icy.

And the shouting would begin.

Not howls of pain. Not blows. But words that sliced through the air like blades.

"Two parasites. The girl sleeps all day. The boy plays the hero. You're ruining my life."

Y/N would cry silently. Her body curled up under her blanket. Hu-min would come join her, sliding next to her like an invisible barrier between her and the walls of the world.

And then he would start. The little theater.

He would begin to whisper in the dark.

"You know what I saw today? A magpie trying to steal a sandwich! I swear, it looked guilty. Like it was about to be arrested by the police!"

Y/N sniffled.

"Magpies... do they go to prison?"

"Unless they write a ten-line poem to apologize. But yours just said 'caw-caw,' so it was put in a cell with a pigeon with a bad reputation."

A small laugh escaped Y/N's throat. Weak, but sincere.

That was all he wanted. A spark. A tiny ray.

Sometimes, he would make faces in the dark. Other times, he would mime a fight between a sock dragon and a sock knight. He would invent absurd songs that rhymed "kimchi" with "spaghetti" and "rocket" with "holey socks."

He would have given anything for her to keep that laugh.

But every year, he saw her close in on herself a little more. Every insult, every silence that followed the outbursts, chipped away a little more at the light she carried.

And he, Hu-min, fought back. In his own way.

He became louder, more alive. He laughed loudly for two. He rolled his eyes at every criticism, pretending it didn't affect him. But inside, he was slowly collapsing.

Y/N, on the other hand, was fading away.

And he clung to her as to a silent promise. That he would get her out of there. That he would always be there.

Because she was more than just a little sister.

She was the only person who had ever looked at him like a hero.

And he had no right to disappoint her.

Even if she no longer laughed.

Even if she was slowly fading before his eyes.

He would continue.

Until the end.

---

The Next Day

Yeon Si-eun hadn’t slept a wink all night.

He had replayed the scene over and over—Y/N’s figure, frail, worried, standing in the middle of the empty classroom, her voice cracking with fear as she asked, "Where's my brother?"

She had only stayed for a few minutes. But since then, she hadn't left his mind.

He hated himself for it.

This wasn't supposed to happen. Not to him. He had built walls, erected defense strategies more complex than those of any opponent. He had always kept his distance. Observer. Neutral. Cold, some said. Prudent, he corrected.

But with her, there had been a hole in the armor. And through that hole, she had slipped. Not with words or smiles. But with her silence. With that pain suspended in the void of her eyes.

That morning, he had waited for the exact time he knew she would be alone. He had unconsciously memorized Y/N’s schedule. He knew she didn't eat in the morning. That she slept most of the time. But today, he was going to knock on her door.

Not out of altruism.

Not out of kindness.

But because he couldn't bear not seeing her anymore.

**

Hu-min had absentmindedly given him the address of the small apartment above the restaurant. Si-eun went there with a precise, almost military step. His hands were in his pockets, his thoughts hazy, but his heart beating fast. Much too fast. He hated this loss of control.

He knocked twice.

No answer.

He was about to leave, but the door finally opened. Slowly. As if it weighed a ton.

And Y/N was there. Her hair disheveled. Her face still blurred with sleep. She was wearing an oversized sweater, its sleeves falling over her hands. He read in her gaze the effort each step towards that door had cost her.

"Si-eun…?"

She seemed surprised. Almost wary.

He could have said he was passing "by chance." He could have made up an excuse.

But that wasn't his style.

"I wanted to see if you were okay."

She didn't answer. She blinked. Once. Twice.

And then, she stepped aside without a word.

He entered.

**

Silence settled in immediately. Si-eun didn't break it. He observed. The apartment was cramped, almost bare. Two mugs on the table, curtains permanently drawn, a mattress in a corner. And that smell of stale tea, of stagnant sleep.

She sat back down on the bed without looking at him. He remained standing at first. Then sat down on the floor, facing her, at a good distance.

Not a word.

And in that silence… something was born.

It wasn't a game of glances, nor an exchange of confidences. It was something else. A contained tension. A raw intimacy, without justification. A strange calm. He didn't need to understand her, nor to find the right words to soothe her.

She wasn't crying. She wasn't talking.

She was simply there.

And he was there too.

Then, slowly, her shoulders slumped. She rested her head against the wall, her eyelids half-closed. Si-eun didn't move. He watched her for a long time, until he felt her breathing regulate. And suddenly, he understood: she was asleep.

She had fallen asleep.

In his presence.

And it was an insane victory.

A shiver ran through him. Something feverish. Unhealthy perhaps, but irrepressible. She had granted him a trust that no one else had. She had let her guard down. He had become a fixed point in her blurry world.

And in his, she had become an obsession.

**

Since that day, he returned. Every day. At the same time.

He never warned her. But she always opened the door a little before. Sometimes barely conscious, other times already sitting, her eyes vacant. As if her body had sensed him. As if a part of her wanted to see him.

He always brought something. Jasmine tea. Pieces of sweet bread. A novel. A potted plant. Discreet, almost ridiculous things. And yet, every detail had been weighed, considered, chosen for her.

But it wasn't the objects that mattered. It was his presence. Constant.

He didn't ask questions. Didn't force anything.

Sometimes they talked.

About trivialities. The weather. A memory. A dream.

And sometimes not at all.

But he felt that something was changing. Slowly. A crack in the marble.

She was beginning to wait for him.

And he… he no longer thought of anything else.

The outside world had faded. Even his strategies, his fights, his calculations were erased. He no longer recognized himself. He would catch himself looking at his phone, listening to the slightest sound, hoping it was her. He observed the smallest details: the way she pushed up her sleeves, how her fingers absentmindedly twisted a strand of hair, how she stared at the ceiling when she thought he wasn't looking.

He didn't just want her close. He wanted to be everything to her.

Her thought. Her refuge. Her center.

And that thought, although he kept it silent, consumed him.

**

But Y/N was getting increasingly worse.

Some days, she didn't even get up. She would lie there, turned towards the wall, her eyes open without really seeing. Other times, she would talk about herself—rarely, but with a sharp lucidity.

"It's weird," she said one evening, her eyes vacant. "I feel everything. And nothing. As if I'm transparent… and heavy at the same time."

Si-eun didn't answer. He was too afraid that the slightest word would break this moment.

She continued:

"Sometimes, I just want to sleep… for a long time. And for everyone to forget I exist."

His own heart clenched. A dull ache. An icy fear.

And anger. A furious anger at this world that had broken her. At that father, at that indifference, at the weight she carried alone.

He wanted to scream for her. Fight for her. Pull her out of this abyss with the strength of his arms.

But he only did one thing: he placed his hand against hers. And this time, she didn't pull it away.

**

Since then, he woke up every morning with only one thought: to see her again.

He lived for that suspended moment between them, in that narrow room, where nothing hurt anymore. He didn't say it, but he knew: he was falling. And it wasn't pure love. It was deeper. More twisted.

He wanted her to see him.

To need him.

For him to be the only thing standing in her collapsing world.

And without realizing it, Y/N was letting him in a little more each day.

She didn't smile. But she listened to him.

She didn't always speak. But she stayed.

And for Si-eun, that was all it took.

He had promised himself, in silence: he would never leave her alone again.

Even if she didn't love him.

Even if she didn't look at him.

He would stay.

Until she no longer needed anyone but him.

---

POV Hu-min

That night, the air reeked of grease, stale tobacco, and lies.

Hu-min, now called "Baku" in certain circles he should never have approached, watched the purple neon lights of the bowling alley flicker like a warning. Each flash seemed to tell him: "You're no longer who you pretend to be." But he went in anyway. Because he had no choice.

Na Baek-jin was there, of course. Sitting on the worn leatherette bench, surrounded by two guys older than him. One was cleaning a baseball bat with a dirty rag. The other was finishing a bowl of tteokbokki with lazy gestures.

"You're on time. That's new, Baku," Baek-jin said without looking up.

Hu-min didn't answer. He had learned not to.

The game had changed a long time ago. Baek-jin was no longer the kid who ran around the park with him and Y/N. He had become the kind of guy who spoke softly but whose silences killed more than words. Hu-min knew what was hidden behind that calm. Anger. Resentment. A will to dominate that was no longer childish.

And he also knew one thing: Baek-jin was using him. But he also had everything he needed to destroy him.

"We spotted a guy delivering for a rival gang. He goes through the river road around 11 PM. You stop him. You get the bag. And if he resists, you shut him up."

Hu-min clenched his fists. "You mean I have to beat him up."

"You've always been quick to understand. That's what I like about you."

A sneer split Baek-jin's face. He loved this power. This control. And Hu-min felt every fiber of his being scream in despair. He wasn't that kind of guy. He had never been that kind of guy.

But he did it anyway.

Because one day, Baek-jin had come knocking on his door, a smile plastered on his face:

"Your old man owed money. A lot. Now you pay. With your time, your body, your loyalty. And if you try to run... I know guys who know how to make silent girls talk."

He hadn't needed to say her name. Y/N was the ultimate leverage.

Since then, Hu-min had taken it all. The blows, the orders, the shame. He smiled like an idiot at the restaurant. He cracked jokes with his friends. But he lost pieces of himself with every night spent with these guys.

And he had believed that as long as Y/N stayed out of all this, he could keep going. Until he found a way out.

But he hadn't expected her to look for him.

***

Bowling Alley, a few days later

Y/N had had to gather all the energy she had left to go out. A rare thing. But her brother's absence was a dull ache that grew with each passing hour. He hadn't come home for two days. He wasn't answering. He hadn't left any messages.

Something was wrong.

So she had gotten up. She had put on an oversized sweatshirt, her worn sneakers, and gone to where her friends said he sometimes hung out: an old bowling alley near the canal. A den of delinquents. She knew what people whispered. But she didn't care.

She walked through the door into a din of cheesy music and crashing pins. The smell assaulted her immediately, but she held her ground. She scanned the room, her throat tight.

And then she saw him.

Baek-jin.

He hadn't changed. Well, physically maybe. He had grown taller, broader, but his eyes… they were the same. Cold, calculating. And she immediately felt a mixture of annoyance, pain, and memories she wished she could erase.

She walked forward, straight, awkward, but determined. "Where's my brother?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly, but firm.

Baek-jin stared at her slowly. He tilted his head. "Y/N? Is that you? I almost didn't recognize you."

He smiled, but there was nothing kind in that smile. "Your brother is busy. He's doing what he needs to do to protect you, you should be grateful to him."

"Stop your bullshit," she murmured, her eyes shining. "You have no idea what he's sacrificing for you."

And that's when he arrived. Hu-min. Out of breath. Dirty. His jaw clenched.

"Y/N… what the hell are you doing here?!"

She turned to him. Her eyes pleaded. "I'm looking for you. You disappear. You don't come home. You haven't eaten. You don't look at me anymore. What are you doing, Oppa? Huh? What are you doing?!"

Y/N only saw her brother. And what she read in his eyes wasn't anger. It was shame.

And that's what broke her.

"Why are you doing this, Hu-min? Why are you doing this for him?"

"Because I don't have a choice!" he blurted out. "Because if I don't, he'll destroy you. He's pushing our shitty father to the edge. He's offing the guys I care about."

His voice trembled. "So I get dirty. Instead of you. For you. So you can just… sleep. Breathe. Without him taking away what little you have left."

She looked at him for a long time. And it wasn't anger he saw on her face. It was pain.

Naked pain. Raw. Immense.

"But you're destroying yourself," she whispered. "And I can't… I can't lose you too."

He wanted to tell her it was nothing. That he would handle it. But his words died in his throat. He couldn't lie to those eyes. Not to her.

He stepped closer, grabbed her shoulders. "You have to get out of here. Now."

"You think I sleep to forget? I sleep because I already feel dead. But you're not helping me come back. You're leaving."

The silence that followed was heavier than the shouts.

And Baek-jin, behind them, was amused. "Your sister's brave. I like her. She's grown up."

"Shut up," Hu-min growled without turning around.

He turned towards the exit. Spotted a familiar figure. Si-eun.

He waved him over. "Take her home. She shouldn't be here. She's not made for this."

Si-eun hesitated. Y/N struggled a little, her eyes wet, her body tense. But when she met Si-eun's serious gaze, she understood. He wouldn't force her. But he would protect her.

She nodded. Just a small nod. A silent pact.

And she went out.

But as she crossed the threshold, she swore one thing: She would find out everything. She would no longer let her brother sink into the darkness alone.

---

Outside, the air was glacial. A cutting wind. A fierce silence.

Y/N walked ahead, arms crossed, face closed off. Si-eun followed her without a word. He always kept that distance of a step or two, never too close, never too far—as if he were walking a fragile ridge between modesty and instinct.

But tonight, something was different.

Y/N hadn't uttered a word since they left the bowling alley. Her back was stiff, her fists clenched, and her figure seemed to float, as if she were walking without really touching the ground.

Si-eun felt it. A tension too strong. An invisible weight bending her over. And that, he couldn't ignore.

"Do you want to sit down for a moment?" he finally asked, his voice softer than usual.

She didn't answer. But she stopped.

They were in a quiet alley, a little off the road. A wooden bench, under a pale streetlamp, creaked in the wind. She sat down without a word, and he did the same beside her.

Silence settled in again. But this time, it wasn't a comfortable silence. It was a threatening void, filled with echoes.

Y/N hugged her knees to her chest. Her face turned towards the ground. And then:

"I don't recognize him anymore."

Si-eun didn't answer.

She continued, more softly:

"Hu-min. He smiles like everything's fine. But it's not true. I saw him tonight. He's not my brother anymore. He's a ghost. And I didn't see it coming."

She bit her lip, tears welling up in her eyes. Her voice trembled:

"He protected me, Si-eun. I didn't know. I slept while he got dirty to keep me away. I should have fought for him."

He looked at her, his heart aching. His throat tightened. He hated seeing her like this.

"You don't sleep to escape," he said gently. "You sleep to survive."

She turned her eyes to him, surprised.

"You do what you can. Like him. You're the same."

She looked down again. A tear rolled down her cheek.

"I hate myself for it."

Si-eun inhaled slowly. His body tense, but his voice calm:

"Then I'm going to tell you something you often forget. It's not your fault."

Y/N closed her eyes.

"Yes, it is."

"No, Y/N. It's not your fault your father was violent. It's not your fault your brother sacrificed himself. And it's not your fault you care about them so much it hurts."

He turned slightly towards her. She didn't dare move.

"You think you're weak. That you're a burden. But you're still here. You've survived things that would have destroyed other people."

She hugged her arms to herself, and her voice broke:

"And you, aren't you afraid of me? Of what I am?"

He barely shrugged.

"I'm afraid you'll disappear."

That sentence did something to her. She finally turned her head towards him. And what she saw in his eyes wasn't pity. It was deeper. Sharper. A mixture of contained obsession and wild tenderness. Something that said I'm here. And I won't leave.

They stayed like that, looking at each other for a long time. As if the world around them was fading away.

Then Y/N spoke, almost in a whisper:

"When I'm with you… I don't need to pretend. No need to talk. And yet… I feel less alone."

Si-eun lowered his eyes. A part of him wanted to take her in his arms. To hold her so tight she couldn't escape. But he held back. Instead, he murmured:

"It's the same for me."

**

The cold deepened. So they started walking again.

They walked side by side, in silence, their shoulders sometimes brushing against each other. Y/N seemed a little more present. More grounded. But a new fatigue weighed on her. An emotional fatigue, deeper than sleepless nights.

They crossed a small metal bridge, their steps echoing on the rusty plates. The street wasn't very well lit. A pale light filtered through the bare branches.

And then, everything changed.

A dull, brutal roar. An engine rumble that tore through the silence. A sound too fast. Too close.

Si-eun's phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out mechanically, just a glance… and that's when he saw it.

A truck.

A heavy truck, speeding, without headlights, without brakes. Heading straight for Y/N.

His heart exploded in a flash of panic. He yelled:

"Y/N!"

She didn't have time to react.

He lunged. Pure instinct. He threw his phone to the ground. His arm shot out, grabbed Y/N by the waist.

And he pushed her.

But not far enough.

The truck hit them.

A dull thud. A metallic crash. Then silence.

They flew. The world spun, turned upside down, blurred.

And everything stopped.

**

Y/N's body rolled onto the asphalt, inert. Si-eun's, further away, lay at an odd angle, his arm bleeding, his head against a post.

The wind whistled softly.

The neon signs in the distance still flickered, indifferent.

And everything sank into darkness.

---

Seoul University Hospital — Intensive Care Unit

The white ceiling pulsed gently beneath the neon lights, like a heart hesitating between beating and stopping. The sharp smell of antiseptic floated, mixed with the more subtle scent of dried blood, plastic, and anguish.

In room 407, two beds side by side. Two still bodies. Connected to machines that made the muffled sound of survivors being held back.

Y/N.

Si-eun.

Hu-min’s hands had been covered in blood when they found them.

He still remembered it. He was running, his feet slipping on the wet asphalt, his breath catching in his throat. Gotak was shouting behind him, but he wasn’t listening. He had just seen Y/N’s figure, lying in the pale light of a streetlamp. And next to her, a body. Stiff. Blood.

He had screamed.

He hadn’t remembered screaming so loudly since the last time their father had thrown a plate against the wall.

Juntae had called the ambulance. Gotak had crouched down beside Si-eun. But Hu-min hadn’t moved. He was looking at Y/N’s face. His little sister. Silent. Broken.

As if death had finally managed to catch up with her.

And he hadn’t been able to do anything.

Again.

**

He had been at the hospital for two days. He slept little. Barely ate. He spent long hours simply staring at the heart monitors, watching for the slightest sign. He spoke to no one. Even the doctors no longer dared to ask him questions.

He had sat down between the two beds. A metal chair. A wall behind him. His eyes fixed on the ceiling.

When Si-eun opened his eyes, it was first a flutter of eyelids, then a painful grimace on his face.

He moved. Slowly. Like someone returning from a long journey deep within themselves.

"Y/N…?"

His voice was hoarse. Crushed. He tried to sit up, but a groan escaped him.

Hu-min stood up abruptly, his heart pounding.

"Si-eun? You're awake? Damn… you're awake."

But the other barely looked at him. His eyes went from one wall to the other, then settled on the figure in the next bed.

"She… she is…?"

"Still in a coma," Hu-min replied in a grave voice.

Silence fell like a leaden blanket. Si-eun stared at Y/N without blinking. Her face didn't move, but her hands were trembling.

"I tried to push her."

"I know."

"I didn't make it."

"I know."

A breath. Hesitant.

"I should have… been faster."

Hu-min approached. He placed a hand on Si-eun’s shoulder, without saying a word. A simple gesture. But heavy. Full of unspoken gratitude.

Si-eun looked away. His teeth clenched.

"Why was she in the street that night? Why is she like this? Why does she… let herself drift as if she wants to disappear?"

He broke off. He couldn't speak anymore.

And Hu-min understood that this moment was coming. That he could no longer put off the truth.

So he sat down. Slowly. And spoke.

**

"She met a guy a year ago. Someone older. A literature student, I think. He had that charm… you know, the kind who speaks softly, recites poems, makes her feel seen."

"And then?"

"Then he started locking her in her own guilt."

Hu-min closed his eyes. The pain rose, thick, suffocating.

"He would self-harm. He told her it was because of her. That if he wasn't okay, it was because she didn't love him enough. That his suffering was proof of his love. And that if she left him, it would mean she was cruel. A bad person."

Si-eun froze.

"He made her feel guilty… for his own wounds?"

"Yes."

A long silence. The kind of silence that hurts.

"He broke her," Hu-min finally said. "Not with blows. But with words. He turned her insecurities against her. He dug into her weaknesses, gently, until she collapsed."

He inhaled. His fists clenched.

"And I didn't see it coming... I thought she was getting better. She was making an effort. She even smiled. But it was fake. She carried all that inside her… alone. Because she didn't want to worry me."

Si-eun looked at him, his eyes shining. He understood too well what that meant.

"She believed she had to earn love," he said slowly. "That she had to sacrifice herself to be accepted. That she had to fix broken people, even if it destroyed her."

"Yes."

The two young men looked at each other.

Si-eun looked away first. He wanted to scream, to hit something. But all he could do was grip the sheets until his knuckles turned white.

"I love her," he said in a calm, almost strange tone.

Hu-min stared at him.

"I know."

"But it's not a sweet, pretty little thing. It's not a simple love. It's a need. It's… visceral. As if I grew up to find her. As if everything in me had waited for her. Her sadness. Her silences. The way she speaks as if she doesn't want to disturb the air around her."

He began to tremble slightly.

"And it drives me crazy, because I want to save her. But I know I can't do it alone. And I don't want to become like the other one, the one who hurt her. I don't want her to think she owes me anything."

His voice broke.

"I just… want her to live."

**

Hu-min stood up slowly. He looked at Y/N. She didn't move. But her chest rose. Slowly. Weakly.

"Then you've already done more than most," he murmured. "You protected her without demanding anything. You put your body in the way of hers. And she'll remember that. When she comes back, she'll know. That you were there."

Si-eun closed his eyes. A tear rolled down his temple.

"She's going to come back, right?"

Hu-min didn't answer immediately.

Then:

"She's strong. Stronger than me. She holds on. Even in the dark. She'll find her way."

**

And in the blue light of the hospital room, two hearts beat slowly. A brother and a lover, sitting at the bedside of a girl who couldn't hear them.

But who, somewhere, far away in the darkness of her own coma, felt their presence.

And that, perhaps, was already a beginning.

---

Three weeks later

The days had blurred together. A bottomless hourglass, where the light only served to remind of the absence. Y/N had not woken up. But Si-eun had not left her bedside.

Every morning, he arrived with books. Crime novels, poetry collections, manhwas folded in half. He read aloud, even when he was sure she couldn’t hear him. He gently placed his hand on hers, as if trying to transmit a bit of human warmth.

He also talked to her. Not too loudly, just enough for her to know he was there. That she wasn’t alone. He told her about the taste of cold coffee in the cafeteria, Juntae’s nonsense, Gotak’s nervous silences, Hu-min’s dark circles. And sometimes, he shared his own thoughts, unfiltered. The regrets. The memories. The silly dreams. As if he were confiding in her his personal diary.

And even though she didn’t move, even though she didn’t speak, he felt that something was happening. A link. Silent, but real.

Hu-min also visited. Less often, lately. He had said he had "things to take care of." But in his eyes, there was something more. A fire. A decision.

And this morning, it was finally over.

***

It was a pale hour, almost silent. The sun was barely rising over the concrete rooftops. In an abandoned warehouse, somewhere near the port, four of them dragged themselves against the walls. Four bloodied silhouettes, clothes in tatters, muscles burnt out.

Baku.

Si-eun.

Gotak.

Juntae.

They didn’t need to speak. They had held on. They had won. Baek-jin was nothing more than a name to erase, a specter that would no longer have control over them.

Hu-min collapsed against a metal barrier, gasping for breath, his hands covered in blood, his eyes red. He felt as though the world had stopped. That there was nothing left to prove, nothing left to hide.

Then his phone vibrated.

An unknown number. The hospital.

He answered without thinking.

— Hello?

A soft, calm voice.

— Mr. Park Hu-min?

— Yes.

— I’m calling from the University Hospital. Your sister… she woke up.

The world stopped for a moment.

He didn’t respond right away. He couldn’t.

His heart was pounding like an alarm.

— What…?

— She’s still weak. But she woke up. She opened her eyes. She asked… "Is my brother here?"

He let out a laugh. Choked. Halfway between a sob and a sigh of relief.

— Thank you. Thank you. Thank you...

Gotak and Juntae froze. Si-eun straightened up, his face tense.

— What? What happened?

Hu-min lifted his eyes to them. And despite the blood on his face, the bruises, the crushing fatigue, he smiled.

A true smile. Rare.

— She’s awake.

No one spoke.

Then Si-eun sprang to his feet, unsteady. He barely managed to grab the edge of the wall to avoid falling again.

— Y/N?!

Hu-min nodded. His eyes shining.

— She opened her eyes. She’s waiting for us.

Without another word, they all set off.

Broken. Trembling.

But standing.

And alive.

Heading toward her.

---

The soft afternoon light barely pierced through the drawn curtains. The distant hum of machines, almost imperceptible, filled the room. The hospital, like a quiet prison, hung suspended between life and suffering.

Si-eun waited, silent. He had settled in a corner, arms crossed, his eyes fixed on Y/N’s frail figure, lying on her bed, a blanket draped over her legs. Her features had changed, as if everything about her breathed the fragility and gentleness of a return to life. She seemed lighter, closer to the stars, as if the depression that had gnawed at her for so long was, at least momentarily, behind her.

The others, Gotak, Juntae, and even Hu-min, were not far away. But no one wanted to be the first to cross that boundary. The crucial moment, the one where you know you must leave space, breathe, take your time. It was a miracle. But also a moment of absolute fragility.

And then, in an almost imperceptible breath, Y/N’s eyes opened.

She didn't remember the pain. She only remembered the void. Days, weeks where reality was nothing more than a blurry place. But there, suddenly, she could feel the light of the world penetrate her soul.

She blinked, disoriented. Then, she turned her head. She knew. She felt the familiar presence. She felt it before she heard it.

Hu-min.

He hadn't changed. He was still the same, the brother she had always loved. The man who, even in his darkest moments, had stayed there, by her side. And despite the pain that could still be read in his eyes, despite the scars that marked his soul, he was there. He was there for her.

"Y/N!" he cried, with such force that he could have knocked down the walls. A cry of relief, of pure joy. He threw himself on her, without thinking, taking her in his arms.

She smiled, weakly at first. Then a burst of laughter escaped her lips. A sincere laugh. A child's laugh. The one that used to fill their house with happiness. That laugh she had forgotten, but found again like a buried treasure.

"I… I'm here, Y/N. I'm here, don't worry. Oppa is here" he murmured, his eyes shining with tears. He caressed her hair, as he had done when she was little. An infinite tenderness, a raw, sincere, almost selfish love. Because he never wanted to lose her again.

The others were there too. Gotak and Juntae had stepped back, observing the scene with respect and a touch of awkwardness. Si-eun, for his part, couldn't even breathe anymore. His heart was beating faster. Too fast. Emotions overwhelmed him. He had seen Y/N suffer, get lost. He had seen her dark, broken, and there, before him, she was alive again.

She was there. She was breathing. She was smiling.

For him, for Hu-min, for everything he had always wanted. And yet, this scene, more than anything, gave birth in him to a sweet and fierce rage. A rage to want to protect her, to want to be the one who could save her from everything. He wanted to be the man by her side, the man she could lean on, the man who could make her smile forever.

He approached them, despite his pain. He stopped just behind Hu-min, and in an almost timid voice, he said:

"She… is she okay?"

He couldn't look at Y/N. He couldn't. He felt that if his eyes met hers, he wouldn't be able to contain everything he felt. But Hu-min then turned to him, as if inviting him into their bubble. He knew that, in a way, Si-eun was part of their family. He had understood that after everything that had happened. It was the first time he had seen him so vulnerable. Because Si-eun, all that calm, that inner strength he exuded, looked, at that moment, like a lost man. Like a man who had lost himself in a sea of feelings he no longer knew how to control.

"Yes, she's okay," Hu-min replied, with a smile that wasn't quite happy, but was that of a man finding peace again.

Y/N turned her eyes to Si-eun, almost instinctively. She stared at him for a long time. As if she sensed that depth in him, a form of pain he hid, but which she perceived perfectly.

Si-eun, slowly, moved to the bed, and leaned slightly, placing a trembling hand on the edge of the mattress.

She looked at him with an uncertain air, wondering what had driven him to stay. Why him? Why was he there?

Si-eun didn't have the courage to speak. He shook his head, a little lost, but her gaze made all the difference. He wanted to say something. To break the silence. But he couldn't. He didn't have the words.

So, in a surge of uncontrollable emotion, he leaned down slightly and placed a kiss on her forehead. A light kiss, almost like a caress, a kiss that carried all the warmth of his heart. That kiss was a promise. A silent promise. He would be there. No matter the cost.

She closed her eyes under his kiss. And, for a fraction of a second, she felt safe. She felt that presence, that warmth… He didn't need to speak. It was enough for him to be there.

But everything wasn't that simple.

***

Later, after the others had left the room to rest and tend to their wounds, Si-eun stayed. He was there, silent. He couldn't leave. He couldn't leave her.

He got up and went to the shelf. His eyes fell on an old photo of Y/N. She was a child, with round cheeks and a radiant smile. He had never seen such a sincere smile. A smile that wasn't tarnished by pain. A smile that still resembled her, despite the time.

"Was that you?" Si-eun asked, his voice soft.

Y/N joined him gently, her gaze locked on Si-eun's. She nodded.

"Yes, that was me. Before… before all this. Before I forgot everything."

He turned to her, touched. This photo represented the young girl he had always seen in his dreams, the person he had always wanted to protect. His heart ached.

"You still look a little like her," he said, his voice full of tenderness.

For the first time, Y/N felt her heart warm. It was the first time someone had spoken of her like that. Not as a victim. Not as someone broken. But as a person. A real person.

She looked at him, a slight smile on her lips.

"It's the first time anyone's spoken to me like that."

Si-eun approached, his eyes shining with emotion. He leaned down gently and caressed her face, his fingertips brushing the scratch that marked her cheek. He was hurting, but he didn't want to show it.

"Are you okay?" she asked him, her gaze worried.

He laughed softly, but his smile couldn't hide the pain in his eyes.

"Yes, it's nothing. But you… are you okay?"

She placed her hand on his face, feeling the warmth of his skin. It was her, this time, who wanted to take care of him. She gently took a small bandage and placed it on his bruised face. It was a simple gesture, but it had something significant about it. She was healing him, for the first time.

Their eyes met. Then, all of a sudden, he couldn't hold back anymore. He leaned down and, in a gesture filled with passion and affection, placed a kiss on her lips. That kiss… it was more than a declaration of love. It was the fulfillment of a dream he had kept within him for weeks. A tender kiss, almost desperate, but filled with promises.

Y/N closed her eyes under that kiss, and her heart began to beat faster. A shiver ran through her body. She felt, for the first time in a long time, a warmth, an inner peace. Something that made her feel whole, even if everything was still blurry around her.

They barely moved apart, their foreheads touching, their breaths mingling.

"I'll always be here," Si-eun whispered, his voice broken with emotion.

And she, without hesitation, placed her hand over his heart.

"Me too."

And for the first time in so long, she felt at home.

Because yes. Between the scars, there is love.

..................................................................................

New Geum Seongje fanfictions

@mariii-0001

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PARK EUN BIN AND SEOL KYUNG GU FOR ELLE KOREA APRIL 2025 ISSUE

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gong yoo & lee dong wook - sk enmove zic: enmove showdown commercial film (30s) (2025)

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