#This is me in a nutshell. All you need to know. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cbeargyu · 12 days ago

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𝙉𝙀𝙀𝘿 𝙏𝙊 𝙆𝙉𝙊𝙒 ― 𝑗. 𝑗𝑎𝑒ℎ𝑦𝑢𝑛

summary: after you tell a lie, there's no turning back, y/n doesn't know what to do now that she told the whole frat that she slept with the best boxer in college: jung jaehyun.

pairing: college boxer!jaehyun x student afab!reader

genre: strangers to friends w/ benefits to lovers, smut, angst (y/n is such a fool), college life.

wc: 27,4k

warnings: this fic is slightly inspired in manhwa peach sorbet. humor, cursing, breeding kink, fingering, blowjob, kissing, sex scenes in a nutshell💀, smoking, alcohol.

part ii here.

playlist: ✧ need to know ; doja cat ✧ tio ; zayn ✧ entertainer ; zayn ✧ common ; zayn ✧ rear view ; zayn ✧ you wish you knew ; zayn ✧ swim ; chase atlantic

notes: i hope you enjoy it and sorry for my bad english T-T english isn't my first language so pls forgive me if i had some grammar errors bc i'm still learning😁🙏 and yeah i love zayn 😭

“being a virgin in high school isn’t a big deal, y/n” that’s what your friend, kang saeran said, at that moment she was a virgin as well, but once both of you graduated, she slept with her boyfriend. damn liar. you thought because nowadays you were in your sophomore year in college and still nothing of action.

yeah, you had some boyfriends in the past, but never took the next step and had sex, maybe because you were afraid or because you thought that you wanted to be a virgin until you got married to the man you loved… how wrong you were.

none of your childhood friends went to the same college as you. that feels like starting from zero again. as a birthday present, your parents rented a small room for you close to the college, so you can become more independent and have your own space and avoid all the troubles with the roomies at the college sorority.

at some point, you were excited, because you started to imagine all the privacy you would have and that meant one thing; have sex whenever you like. but the sad reality was other, you were always busy with school tasks and barely had time to hang out with friends, also add that you just went on some dates but nothing else. It’s like men weren’t interested in you in a sexual way, even in a romantic way. but, come on! you were pretty, funny, and have great music taste, what the hell is wrong with them then?

“when did you lose your virginity, y/n?” you almost choked with your bubble tea when jinsol asked that without any filter, as if it were anything at all, maybe it was for her, but you… damn, you were a fucking virgin as hell.

“perhaps she’s a virgin” jungeun mutters and giggled, you gave her a dirty look.

“shut up, and nope, i’m not a virgin.” you lied, staring at your friend with confidence in your eyes, you thought your performance was too good because both girls looked at you expectantly for you to continue with your revelation. “was with my ex-boyfriend from high school, we had sex after the graduation party, on the couch at his parents' house” jinsol frowned and jungeun couldn't help but let out a laugh, although she tried to cover her mouth when jinsol nudged her, sorry, she said biting her lips as if she was avoiding at all costs not to laugh at you.

“wow… too much information if i can tell…” it was what jinsol said, on the inside, you were dying of shame, why should you have stuck your tongue out and said that? besides, you were unintentionally exposing how kang saeran lost her virginity. at least they didn't know her, so the ethics can be screwed if they want to.

“well… it’s the first time i've told you this so… i’m sorry if it sounds weird to you”

“it did” jungeun mocked of you once again.

“bitch, you’re starting to piss me off” you pointed your finger at jungeun in a threatening manner, maybe you were getting defensive, but you had to protect your secret from now on. "why don't you tell us how you lost your virginity?"

since then, you and your friends have talked little to nothing about her active sex life at the moment. now and then, jungeun tells them that she will go on a date with some random dude on tinder and won't return to the sorority until the next day. she doesn't care about the sanctions she receives. jinsol is a beauty in the social science department and most of the guys have a huge crush on her, however, she recently started dating qian kun, an exchange boy in the music department, while you, well, you are in good health and doing well in your studies.

summer days are coming and that means summer vacations, you could return to your parent’s house or maybe apply for a job near the college. today was friday and your first class started at 9:30 am, it's still early so you decided to make a little stop at Starbucks on your way to the college. you ordered the usual; iced mocha. you took a seat near the window while checking your instagram feed, behind you were sitting some girls from the same department as you, you recognized one of them as park sooyoung, one of the college goddesses, she was barely wearing makeup and still looked too beautiful, her lips were pigmented in a strong red that stood out with her milky skin. she was laughing with her friends, you didn't avoid paying attention to the other's conversation when you heard the word sex.

“is he really as good as they said? i heard he can last up to five rounds in bed”

“it was spectacular, have you heard that phrase that says “he would makes you see stars”? well, it was like that” sooyoung covered both cheeks realizing the blush that was appearing on her face. the other girls squealed and congratulated her.

“i heard about a rumor going around the frat that said that if you sleep with him, it’s 100% sure you’ll cum within five minutes” they squealed again and sooyoung kept nodding.

what you didn’t understand was, who the fuck are they talking about? thousands of images came to your mind, trying to give shape to the man they were describing, how prominent or spectacular he must be to have such abilities as if he were a god or something.

“i’m telling you girls, having sex with the leader of the boxing club was the best thing i could have done, besides, i would like to go out on a date with him, he’s not only good in bed, he’s also very attractive, at least i want to see him once again” that was what sooyoung said with a smile on her face, everything about her seemed to glow, is that the result of a good fuck?

you thought about the boxing club- you didn’t even know there was a boxing club at the college, to begin with, let alone know who the leader is, but he must be someone good-looking as the rumors said. you didn’t give the matter any more thought and headed to the college, straight to your first class.

but your mind wouldn’t leave you alone and started to imagine all the possible faces and bodies that could be assimilated by someone handsome knows how to fuck and who, undoubtedly, must have a good body because he’s a boxer. you wish for a moment you hadn’t listened to that conversation that had nothing to do with you. oh, you did. in the end, you would regret it, because that night, your friends would invite you to a frat party to celebrate the arrival of summer and when you had too much alcohol in your system, the others decided it was a great idea to play “truth or dare” with an empty soju bottle that was there.

it was the turn of taeyong from the psychology department to turn the bottle, at this point you felt too dizzy, however, you knew how to hide it very well, next to you was jinsol, who was muttering something that you couldn’t understand well, maybe she was saying you to go to sleep or go to the restroom to vomit.

you opened your eyes in surprise when the tip of the bottle pointed at you, taeyong’s corners rose wickedly, and everyone was waiting expectantly for his question, you knew he would say something stupid as was common, something silly to make fun of you. but, even in this state, you weren’t going to allow it.

“who was the last person you had sex with?” that felt like a bucket of cold water on you, everyone laughed at the question, as direct and blatant as lee taeyong.

“what kind of question is that, hyung? we were asking about our kinks” jungwoo tapped taeyong’s shoulder in a friendly manner as if he could feel the tension in the air from the question.

and the thing is, you hadn’t done anything wrong to taeyong to make him dislike you like that, you just refused to go on a date with him because he wasn’t your type and he kept bragging about how he had slept with all the girls in the department.

“what’s wrong? you won’t answer? of course! your only last time must have been when you lost your virginity on your in-laws’ couch, or so jungeun said” taeyong let out a cruel-sounding laugh, everyone was completely silent, he was starting to cross the line.

you quickly looked at jungeun, the only one capable of telling taeyong that, she was choking on her beer when taeyong revealed that. “i swear i didn’t tell him everything!” was her only excuse as she wiped it off the beer with the back of her hand. the feeling of disappointment and humiliation was starting to rise in your chest.

the others tried to defuse the heated moment, taeyong looked at you with victory in his eyes, as if he had achieved his goal. but you were too stubborn to leave it at that, so you firmly answered his question:

“since you are so interested to know, i slept with…” your mind was not thinking clearly, you barely knew how to formulate an understandable sentence, you looked around and felt that long minutes passed, and taeyong staring at you coldly with his jaw clenched and arms crossed over his chest denoting the annoyance.

“a member of the… boxing club” damn you and your damn obsession with using someone else’s testimonials to pass them off as your own.

everyone’s eyes widened, what you had said was unheard of, and the questions of who it is were not long in coming.

your gaze inadvertently fell on jungwoo, who was snacking on some of the fries on his left side. “jung…” you barely mumbled.

“jung?!” minkyung shouted out of nowhere as if she had hit the person you were talking about, but you just were inventing everything, wasn’t it? “you’re talking about jung Jaehyun?! oh my god, that man is so hot! you were keeping that secret well, y/n!” now all the girls were screaming around you, except jungeun and jinsol, who were looking at you dumbfounded. jinsol reacted quickly and congratulated you, although she didn’t know why she was doing it.

jung… who?

“are you… serious?” taeyong asked in a low voice, incredulous at your words. but when you nodded firmly, he licked his lips, thinking about how he could take more advantage of this situation. “well since you are so close to jaehyun, why don’t we invite him?” everyone innocently supported taeyong’s plan, as if they wanted to bring a couple together, but taeyong’s intentions were different. you bit your lips, holding in the anger that this motherfucker was provoking in you.

“do whatever you want, lee” when taeyong started to type jaehyun’s number on his phone, your heart started to race, you began to sweat and you didn’t know if it was the effects of alcohol or if you were just going to pass out from anxiety. taeyong had a nice conversation on the phone, it seemed that jaehyun was training and didn’t want to leave it just for a stupid party, as he said.

“come on, bro! we have a special guest here, i’m sure you want to see her” everyone started cheering. the line was silent until jaehyun said he would be here soon. fuck, he was just making things difficult.

the minutes went on forever and internally you wished he wouldn’t come through, but you could not chicken out, now you had to face thing as it was, also you had to figure out how you would keep your reputation after this, the most difficult thing was that you didn’t know jaehyun’s personality, apparently he is close to taeyong, what if he is just like him? you would certainly be done.

you heard the guests shouting as they announced jaehyun’s arrival, and you barely heard a deep voice complaining about making him come to a party in the middle of the night, you swallowed hard, and suddenly, the descriptions given by the girls at starbucks started to run through your head again.

god damn.

you were in big trouble.

no.

in a huge problem.

you were sitting on the ground when the huge figure of jung jaehyun landed in front of you, he frowned when you looked up to see him, god damn, his face was so beautiful, or maybe you were too drunk, but you looked into his dark eyes and you almost swore you were reflected in them.

his hair was falling over his face, he was wearing a loose sleeveless shirt showing his worked arms, his skin shone a bit, it must be the sweat from the training he was doing, underneath he only had black shorts revealing his strong legs, shit, you began to feel hot on your face from looking at him intensely.

damn, when you said you fucked someone from the boxing club you didn't expect they would bring a real person here just because you threw in a random name.

"hyung! why didn't you tell us that it was you who took away y/n's purity!” lee donghyuck put his arm around jaehyun's neck, but he didn't flinch. he just looked at you out of the corner of his eye, trying to understand what was going on, but without being too obvious.

"shut up haechan! didn't you hear that taeyong said that y/n lost her virginity a long time ago?" donghyuck was pushed by heejin, causing jaehyun to wriggle out of his grasp.

you could only close your eyes and swallow your shame, shit, how you wish you weren't there right now.

"why did you never tell us about this, y/n!" minkyung nudged you, very cheerful in her drunken state, but she only managed to plunge you further into embarrassment. the worst thing was that jaehyun looked annoyed with each passing minute.

"i didn't know you had high standards, y/n, it's amazing to know that jaehyun gave you a chance in his bed" when taeyong said that, something in you snapped, any hope of pride gone.

“h-hey jaehyun, I thought we'd never see each other again…” you said, completely nervous and shaking.

“must be a coincidence, y/n”

jaehyun gave you a smile that managed to send a chill through your whole body, even more so because of the tone he used when he said your name as if he had tasted it from his mouth before letting it out.

without warning, jaehyun wrapped you in his arms in a warm hug and it denoted a lot of confidence, but your body was rigid, you could barely react. the others yelled obscenities like go get to a room, but you only paid attention to what jaehyun whispered in your ear.

"okay, you will ask everyone to excuse you, but you have to leave with me, did you get it?"

as an automatic reaction you nodded, and once jaehyun separated from you his aura changed completely, now he smiled and his eyes turned half moons, two tender dimples appeared on his cheeks and you could look at his face for the first time with a dazzling smile from him.

“okay guys, thanks for inviting me, but i have to go, jaehyun will walk me home-”

"wow, you guys are going to fuck!" minhyung yelled out of nowhere, jinsol gave him a death glare and he gulped, realizing his mistake. "oh, I mean, they'll just walk home, yeah," he cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck.

in an act of trust, you took jahyun's hand and intertwined it with yours, although the boy's body tensed, he hid it quite well, both of you left the building and the walk became awkward, neither of you was able to say anything while you moved away from the gaze of others, but you didn’t let go of each other's hands either. before going out into the dark, you noticed how jaehyun's knuckles were worn, and bruised with recent reddish wounds.

you led the way home without saying a word, the route was usually seven minutes, but this time you felt that your home was ten miles from the fraternity. once in front of the door of your home, you swallowed saliva, preparing yourself mentally and physically for the reverence in search of forgiveness from you and all the next generations.

“did you say that... you and I met and that... we had sex?” the slowness of his words was painful and humiliating, you stopped your walk, but you weren't able to turn to face jaehyun.

“please forgive me, i was too drunk, i know it's not an excuse, but at that moment... i just said the first thing that came to my mind, i didn't expect that there was someone with the name jung in the boxing club. i'm sorry, i got you involved in this lie, but if my friends and the whole frat find out i lied i’m all done, the truth is… i'm still a virgin, i've never slept with anyone and-...” you started talking so fast that jaehyun could barely understand everything you said, he chuckled because your speech was so random jaehyun didn't know how to feel right now, maybe used or just like a idiot that ruined your lie for being called jung and join the boxing club.

jaehyun was silent for a few moments, however, that was not uncomfortable, it was more like he understood your situation, even though you had dragged him into your lies, he listened to you carefully.

“if you want, i’ll say it didn’t happen” jaehyun whispered, bright darkness appeared in his eyes and his lips curved up in a strange smirk, he took a hand out of his pockets and brought it closer to your face, slowly caressing your cheek with his thumb, you didn't know if it was you or him who was burning in the heat. “but where’s the fun in that?”

the softness with which he caressed your cheek was intoxicating, due to the closeness you could smell his cologne and a faint of sweat, but it wasn't a bad thing for you in those moments, it felt so raw and intimate, god, you were in front of a real man. instinctively, you brought your face closer to him, tilting your head to try to reach him and you even stood on your toes, this only made jaehyun giggle, who saw it as something cute of you, there was no doubt that you were completely virgin.

with parted lips you asked for jaehyun to kiss you, so desperate for his touch and wondering what his saliva tastes like, your thoughts were rising as you felt jaehyun's breath on your face. and as if jaehyun read your thoughts, he kissed you slowly, you could only move your head to give him better access, your hands ended up on his chest where they squeezed his shirt hard and jaehyun's other hand landed on your neck, pushing you towards him.

his kiss increased when without warning, jaehyun pushed his tongue into your mouth, first licking your lower lip and then going all the way in, at first you were surprised, but it didn't take long for you to reciprocate and keep up with him. a heat was present in your crotch, and hot gasps left your mouth that was barely silenced by jung jaehyun's wild and intoxicating kisses.

god, you didn't want to stop, but the lack of oxygen was present in both of you, managing to separate for a few moments, jaehyun stared at you and you did too, it was as if his eyes were calling you to keep kissing him and how obedient a girl you were, you pushed your lips to his again, this time leading the rhythm and placing your arms around his neck, stroking with your fingertips the fade of his hair and the tips of his ears.

this time you felt jaehyun's hands slightly climb up your hips until they slipped under your blouse, you gasped at the contact of his cold hands touching your warm skin, at this moment you were letting yourself be carried away by hormones, you were not thinking correctly with your head, but you didn't care, you wanted to rub yourself against jaehyun's body to relieve the burning sensation in your crotch.

suddenly, the sound of a call coming in made you jump. jaehyun patted his front pocket and took his cell phone out, it was none other than lee taeyong, you rolled your eyes without jaehyun seeing you and he took the call.

"we're in front of her house, yah... calm down, i'm about to go back to the frat, we won't do anything tonight..." his words made your heart skip a beat, your cheeks turned redder than you thought they were already after the hot kissing session. jaehyun was going along with your lie and that was so... sneaky.

"i have to go, i don't want to have another penalty for leaving the rooms late" jaehyun took a deep breath and put both hands in his pockets as he watched you slowly search for the keys. you were kind of disappointed that it all ended like this tonight, being interrupted by that motherfucker.

"okay then, see you around...?" he said, with some doubt in his voice, you looked up and noticed a sparkle in his eyes. hope. as if it were a romantic movie, you dropped everything you had in your hands and you kiss his lips, a short and pure kiss, but full of feelings and desire, jaehyun could barely flinch because you quickly separated, when you turned embarrassed, a smile already decorated her reddish lips.

"thank you jaehyun"

"why do you thank me?"

"just because of everything..." you smile shyly, alcohol does have a strong effect on you. "see you later" you assured and that made jaehyun feel safe. your word was everything. soon you would see each other again.

a week later, you hadn't seen jaehyun near the college, even though you didn't want to be so obvious looking around for him, you always kept an eye on the crowd when you were walking around campus.

finally, the only thing you know about him is that he belongs to the boxing club, nothing else.

also, you don't know where the boxing club is.

would it be weird for you to ask for the location?

the uncomfortable questions from the people who attended the party that friday were all around you but ceased on tuesday when that topic was no longer new.

jinsol recommended you not see jaehyun anymore, when you questioned her why she simply said "there are many rumors around him, i don't want that to involve you" even though you tried to understand her, the word rumors, were very ambiguous; what other rumors will exist around Jung Jaehyun besides the ones you heard in the cafeteria?

otherwise, jungeun sent you a lot of messages apologizing to you for telling taeyong about your "closeness" and that she didn't expect you to have fucked jaehyun. well, it was a lie, but only he and you knew that.

you stopped thinking about everything that had happened in the last few days and focused on the strong pain you felt in your neck, it must be the stress, you thought. although the summer vacations were approaching and with it the end of the semester, you felt a bit pressured with the exams and final deliveries, yesterday you did nothing but study and now these were the results. you fondled the painful part and let out a small moan.

taking classes on saturdays, having body pain and the extreme heat was the perfect recipe to alter your mood, even though you were wearing a light button-down shirt and shorts you felt the sticky feeling on your skin beginning to upset you.

you decided to stop at starbuck's to buy something cold, as soon as you arrived at the establishment the air system greeted you, thank heavens the place was not so crowded and there were some empty tables, you thought if it would be a good idea to sit down for a bit to check the essay you were about to submit next week.

"hello welcome, may i take your order?"

"hi, i'd like a venti ice americano, please-"

"two venti ice americano, please."

you were interrupted when someone taller than you, perched on your right. it was none other than jung jaehyun, smiling warmly at the cafe worker with those beautiful dimples, you were dumbfounded, the woman typed the computer and confirmed the order, jaehyun in one brisk movement, pulled out the cash ready to pay for you.

"my treat, okay?" he said, how was it possible that he did everything so naturally? you could barely say anything, you merely mumbled a slight thank you, but he looked so comfortable around you that you didn't know what to do.

when your coffees were delivered, you sat down at a table in the back. strangely, you felt like a girl on her first date of a lifetime, your heart was pounding hard against your chest and your hands were sweating, no matter how hard you tried to wipe them against the fabric of your shorts it wasn't enough.

"thanks for the coffee, jaehyun" was all you managed to say, he squeaked and took a sip of his coffee.

"it's nothing" he shrugged his shoulders downplaying it, he shook his hair and you noticed light beads of sweat, surely he came from training or something. also, you saw that the wounds from his fists were still there, but not only that… the veins on his arm and hands were too marked, that image was so hot. you had never had any fixation with people's hands, but seeing jaehyun's hands made you change your mind and you couldn't think of them touching you, around your neck or on your… "y/n?" you jumped in place when you heard him call out to you. "are you okay? it seems your mind is occupied with something else" he recited as if he could read your thoughts, you swallowed saliva and quickly denied.

"it's not that, it's just… i'm a little stressed from school these days, i've barely been able to rest properly" your hand caressed the back of your neck, massaging it lightly. jaehyun's eyes carefully followed your every move without you noticing.

"i can tell, I've heard that the finance department is very strict and stern, isn't it?" wait a minute, how does he know which department you belong to? hearing that threw you off a bit and you couldn't help but ask him.

"how do you know I'm in the finance department?" jaehyun smiled as if he had been caught.

"well, i've heard a lot about you."

it only took a second for your face to change color. what could he have heard about you? you wanted to ask, but your throat closed up in that moment. you felt your body tremble from the thoughts growing in your mind. why was jaehyun suddenly so interested in you? was it because of the lie, perhaps? jaehyun might have noticed the change in your expression and let out a small laugh. that was all it took for all the embarrassment to drain from your body, making the atmosphere lighter and allowing your muscles to relax. without meaning to, you smiled too.

you realized how easy it was to talk to him. despite his attractive appearance, anyone would think he would be the typical arrogant guy for being part of a sports club and sleeping with many girls, but jung jaehyun was the complete opposite.

you kept bumping into things as your drink slowly dwindled, leaving only the ice cubes in sight. even though the conversation flowed naturally, you both knew you were skirting around the main issue, avoiding the heart of the matter. if only you hadn't been interrupted yesterday—what would have happened? would jaehyun have slept with you? so many questions, and a mix of fear about knowing the answers.

"do you mind if I walk you home? It's getting late" jaehyun suggested, swirling his glass in the air, causing the ice cubes to clink from side to side. you glanced at your own glass, now empty. you had both lost track of time. when jaehyun stood up, a strange feeling hit your stomach, and without thinking, you bit your lip. your house was close by, so you decided to play it cool and go along with whatever random topic he’d start talking about next.

on the way home, you couldn't stop thinking about what to do. would it be too cold to just walk inside and act like nothing’s happening? would it be too much to ask him to come inside with you? would he think you're too easy? you weren’t sure of the answers to the flood of questions swirling in your mind, but one thing was certain—you both felt the sexual tension. even when your shoulders brushed against each other, you could feel electricity shoot through your body with every tiny touch. jaehyun seemed calm, or at least that’s the image he was trying to project.

once you stood in front of your apartment door, jaehyun spoke: "I really enjoyed the conversation. rest well, y/n" jaehyun slipped his hands into his pockets and gave you a small, lopsided smile. "I hope next time we meet, you don’t act like a stranger." you parted your lips, searching for the right words. his face seemed like it was waiting for something more.

are you waiting for something more? you thought. it was hard to say goodbye now, and without hesitating, you said:

"hey, jaehyun, it’s saturday and it’s still early. why don’t you come in?" you rubbed your arm, trying to calm yourself, as your heart raced a mile a minute. the seconds you waited for his response felt like years. jaehyun's smile widened, and he nodded.

you opened the door and felt the warmth of your home welcoming you, while inside, your mind was spinning. I invited him. I actually did it. in reality, it was the first time you had brought a guy over—someone of the opposite sex, someone you were interested in.

and you were interested in him in the most sexual way possible.

"thanks for inviting me" jaehyun said with a grateful smile, showing off his adorable dimples. you weren’t sure if it was the whole situation, but even that innocent gesture sent a wave of heat through your body, especially between your legs. quickly, you took off your hoodie and tied your hair into a ponytail.

"it's been really hot today. do you mind if I take a quick shower?" you asked, waving your hands as if trying to cool yourself down. jaehyun raised an eyebrow, curious.

"go ahead, I’ll wait," he said, sitting down on the small sofa in your living room. you could feel two things pulsing: your heart and your vagina.

suddenly, the mood shifted, as your movements became a bit clumsy—like when you accidentally kicked the edge of the dining table, causing you to curse under your breath. when jaehyun moved closer to help, you quickly pushed his chest away. "I’m fine!" you repeated, not looking him in the eye.

"if it feels awkward, wouldn’t it be better if I leave?" jaehyun's voice was calm, trying to understand you. it was more than obvious that you were feeling uneasy about everything that had happened between the two of you, and he understood why the situation suddenly felt weird.

"n-no!" you quickly said, looking at him with concern. jaehyun stepped a little closer. "you don’t want to... do that?" your cheeks turned pink, and your gaze dropped to your feet, feeling truly embarrassed. jaehyun let out a small chuckle, realizing that, in fact, you were a complete virgin, acting like a high school girl.

"what’s so funny?" your cheeks puffed up, feeling both embarrassed and a little annoyed at the thought that jaehyun might be making fun of you.

"nothing, you’re just really cute,’ he said, lifting your chin to lock eyes with you. you could see the confidence in his gaze while you were a bundle of nerves and anxiety. "you’re really beautiful, y/n" his free hand now took yours, which was smaller than his, and that only turned jaehyun on even more. slowly, he walked back to the sofa and sat down, leaving you standing in front of him, your chest right in his view. "in any case, there’s no need to shower... you’re going to sweat again anyway." your face flushed even more, fully grasping the double meaning of his words, but your body jolted slightly as you felt jaehyun’s warm hands slide under your shirt, moving up to reveal your breasts, pushing your bra out of the way. you had to admit, the sight of jaehyun massaging your breasts was undeniably hot.

you were lost in his soft and exciting touch that you didn't notice when jaehyun caught your left nipple between his lips, the hot and wet sensation of his tongue making you gasp. the man's hands slid over your waist, pulling you closer to him, you were so fucking horny.

a new sensation made you jump as jaehyun grabbed the other nipple with his fingertips, rubbing it. you felt wetter and wetter, weaker and weaker, and if it weren't for jaehyun's strong arm holding you, you might have fallen at any moment.

you don't know how much time passed, but jaehyun switched to your other nipple, and you could see how the left one was shining with saliva and swollen... an image that made you even wetter and feel incredibly hot.

"let's go to bed" in an instant, he pulled your soft flesh out of his mouth, looking at you with lust-filled eyes, his lips swollen and shiny with saliva. though you were a little dizzy with excitement, you hadn’t realized how far things had gone. you were about to head to your bed—then what would happen?

before you knew it, you were already lying on your bed with jaehyun on top of you. you watched as he took off his shirt, revealing his well-toned body, worthy of someone who belonged to the boxing club. he tossed the shirt somewhere in the room and leaned down to kiss your lips with hunger and desire. obscene sounds escaped from his mouth, gasps and moans filling the room.

jaehyun's fingers reached your panties, pulling them aside to finally touch your most intimate place, and you opened your eyes in surprise.

‘it's really wet down here,’ he said with a smile on his face, slowly caressing you. his fingers slid over your flesh, from your clitoris to your labia. why did it feel so good? despite the intense sensation, you felt embarrassed, covering your face with both hands. ‘are you sure you've never done this before?’ jaehyun asked with a grin, as his fingers stroked you up and down."

“I told you that I have never—AGH!’ you couldn’t even finish the sentence because something entered your body. jaehyun had inserted one of his long fingers, which quickly began to move in and out. it was your first time, and the sensation was strange and a little painful; your face contorted and your body stiffened. you were so tight that it hurt, but soon your moans turned into pleasurable groans. was this the power of jung jaehyun that all the girls talked about? the feeling of someone else doing it was truly different; you would never have reached this level of excitement on your own. jaehyun added another finger, and the wet sounds echoed even more in the room. without warning, a knot formed in your stomach, and you knew something was about to happen, so you quickly grabbed jaehyun’s wrist, trying to stop him. “w-wait, ah! I f-feel... I feel something coming...’” as soon as you finished the sentence, a clear stream shot out, soaking the pink sheets of your bed. you let out a sweet moan that made jaehyun doubly hard. you closed your eyes, recovering from the incredible orgasm you had just experienced. when you opened them, you saw jaehyun’s proud expression and a large puddle in your crotch—again, the wet sheets. “but what the—! I just washed them this week!” you almost started crying because washing sheets is the worst. jaehyun just giggled. before you knew it, he was unzipping his pants and...

what he released from between his legs was not something ordinary. come on, you had never seen one in person, but this was nothing like what you had seen in porn pages or the images that strangers sent to your message inbox. this was simply huge in every sense of the word. how was it possible that it could fit inside you? the tip was pink, and veins started from the base of his abdomen, wrapping around it. it looked quite hard, and you could barely appreciate it before he began to roll a condom over it. where had he gotten it? who knows, but you couldn't stop thinking about the size. “what’s wrong, y/n?” obviously, your reaction had thrilled him, feeding his ego. “do you think it won’t fit?” one corner of his lips curled into a sly smile.

"are you challenging me? of course, bring it on!’ you said, feeling confident because y/n wasn't just any girl; you were a competitive girl, and this was nothing. you knew it would hurt at first, yes, but your hunger for sex was stronger, and you were sure that soon you would have that chunk of meat buried deep in your wet pussy.

"I like confident girls" jaehyun said, leaning his face closer to yours and licking his lips with lust as he took your legs, positioning himself between them. once he was nestled between you, he ran his hands over your captivating body. first, he gently took your shoulders, caressing them from top to bottom, then he traced his warm tongue along your neck, sending shivers throughout your body—especially in your swollen pussy. afterward, he massaged your breasts, which weren’t particularly big, and sometimes you felt insecure about that. however, seeing how perfectly they fit in jaehyun's hands made you feel so sexy. did jaehyun think the same?

how was it possible for him to be so good at this? his touch quickly left you weak and dizzy. was it because he had had a lot of sex before? that was clear; he was handsome, had a great body, and above all, he was well-endowed down there. no girl could resist.

"I’m going to put it in" he leaned closer to your face, and you felt his warm breath. that’s when you realized that what was about to enter you was something big, hard, and thick. maybe you shouldn’t have challenged him like that. perhaps just a little, you were starting to fear that the process would be too painful.

you clung to his arms as he slowly slid inside you. he caressed your cheek and whispered, "relax, don’t tense your body too much"

it was easy for him to say that, as he wasn’t the one being penetrated. however, he was incredibly gentle, even when he was fully inside you, your body stiffened. your head tilted back as you breathed quickly, trying to adjust to what had been inserted into you for the first time. "I won’t move until you feel ready, okay?" his nose brushed against yours in a compassionate gesture, and even that filled your heart. small tears gathered at the corners of your eyes, and it was jaehyun who gently wiped them away. "you’re doing so well, y/n."

despite the pain that ran through your body, your mind was focused on the pleasure that the situation was giving you: jaehyun’s naked body on top of you, jaehyun inside you, jaehyun with a blush on his face, jaehyun having sex with you. it was the only thing you could think about, and it only made you wetter. little by little, the pain faded, and suddenly you were begging him in a voice that betrayed your surrender, asking jaehyun to move.

then, the hard and fast thrusts came without hesitation. you could only focus on how your breasts bounced and how barely you could hold back your gasps of pleasure. jaehyun looked satisfied, seeing the sheer thrill on your face. you couldn’t think straight; you could barely keep your eyes open, and you weren’t sure how much longer you’d last, as you were getting wetter with each movement.

‘wow, you’re really soaked,’ jaehyun commented with a grin on his face, almost as if he were mocking your state. you didn’t even care; instead, you pulled him closer, clinging tightly to his body.

suddenly, your phone started ringing—someone was calling you. it was so unexpected, and jaehyun seemed to care about it as he paused and asked, ‘you should probably answer that.’ but before he could even reach for the phone, you grabbed his hand and guided it to your breast, whispering softly, ‘don’t stop, please,’ while biting your lip. you were close, you could feel it, and whoever was calling could go to hell right now.

this made jaehyun even more turned on. for a moment, he didn’t know how to react, but as your legs wrapped around him again, he could only smirk, proud of his bedroom skills, enough to have the ex-virgin begging him not to stop. he knew you were enchanting, but he didn’t know just how much. so, he grabbed your waist, lifting it to penetrate you deeper and faster. this technique made your moans even louder, filled with pure excitement. combined with the sounds of skin slapping, the creak of the bed, and jaehyun’s gasps, it all created a unique melody in the room.

“oh, i'm going to cum...” jaehyun warned as his movements became harder against your body, you felt the pounding hit hard against your hips and how his fingers were marked on your waist painfully, but all this combined only brought you closer to climax too and from one moment to the next you were untying the knot in your stomach through a sweet orgasm, giving a squeal as a result. jaehyun took off the full condom and looked at you on the bed, trying to catch your breath, your legs quivering with pleasure and your nipples still erect. there was no choice but to take another condom. “ready for round two?” he whispered in your ear.

although, you were processing how good your first time having sex had been, you didn't think you were completely ready for a second round, however, you couldn't resist against jaehyun, and without thinking, you ended up sweaty and exhausted after 4 more rounds.

it had been two weeks since that night with jaehyun—two long, chaotic weeks where everything seemed to fall apart piece by piece. a fire had broken out in an apartment two floors above yours, thick smoke swallowing the hallways, alarms screaming through the building. even though your place hadn't been damaged, the inspectors had evacuated everyone to assess the structure. you'd bounced from couch to couch, staying with friends for a night or two at most, but their living situations were tight—shared sorority houses, cramped apartments, boyfriends already occupying the only free space. now, you sat alone on a bench across from the university, phone in hand, scrolling aimlessly through your contacts, desperate for someone, anyone, to call. going back to your mother’s place wasn’t an option—you knew the arguments would start the second you walked through the door. you craved your independence, even if it meant being homeless for a few days. the problem was, you didn’t have the money for a hotel. not even close.

you look at jaehyun's contact for a second, you stop to think if it would be a good idea to call him, I mean, you barely know each other, you slept together once, would that be enough of an excuse for him to let you live with him for a while?

you don’t know what to expect when he answers. you’re clutching your phone like it might slip out of your hand from how fast your pulse is racing. and now, with your apartment unlivable, your options reduced to zero, you’re doing the last thing you wanted—calling him.

it rings. once. twice.

then you hear his voice, smooth and casual like nothing’s changed.

“hey. y/n?”

you swallow thickly, your voice trembling despite how much you try to sound fine.

“hi. i know it’s… late. and random. and maybe you don’t want to hear from me, but i didn’t know who else to call.”

there’s a pause, but it’s not uncomfortable. it’s quiet, like he’s listening closely.

“what’s wrong?”

you sigh, eyes stinging as the reality settles deeper into your chest.

“there was a fire in my building. the apartment above mine is completely destroyed, and the structure’s unsafe. they told me i can’t stay there. i don’t really… have anywhere to go right now.”

another pause. this one longer. you brace yourself for something like damn, that sucks or hope you figure it out.

instead, he says softly, “i’m at the pool hall with a couple of friends. you can come. we’ll talk here.”

you don’t know what to say to that, so you just whisper, “okay. send me the location.”

you arrive about thirty minutes later. the place is half-lit, old wooden floors scuffed from years of dragging chairs and boots, the smell of beer and smoke embedded into the walls. the second you step in, you spot him—jaehyun, in a black t-shirt that clings to his shoulders and jeans that do too much justice to his thighs. he’s bent over a table, lining up a shot, lips parted slightly in concentration. he looks good. too good.

when he notices you, his face relaxes. his body straightens. no hesitation.

he waves you over. “you made it.”

you nod, offering a small smile. “hi.”

“guys, this is y/n,” he says, turning to the two men beside him. “yuta, taeyong.”

they both greet you, yuta with a mischievous glint in his eye and taeyong with something a little softer. polite, but unmistakably curious.

“nice to meet you,” yuta says, and you catch his eyes flicker down your outfit—tight jeans, fitted top, just casual enough to not scream i dressed up for someone, but still enough to make their jaws subtly tighten.

jaehyun sees it. you feel it in the way he stands a little closer to you.

“chill,” he tells them, easy but pointed. “she’s way out of your league.”

they laugh, pretending like they weren’t staring, and jaehyun turns back to you.

“want a beer?”

“sure.”

he brings one for you without asking what kind. cold glass touches your palm, and his fingers brush yours just a second longer than necessary. he doesn’t mention the call again. doesn’t ask you anything serious. just hands you a stick and nods at the table.

“you play?”

“twice. maybe. terribly.”

he grins. “that’s more than most.”

you play a few turns. he’s good. effortlessly good. you’re not, but you’re trying. then your turn comes up again, and you bend over to line up your shot. you don’t realize how far you’re leaning until you feel it—the air shifts. someone’s watching.

you glance sideways. yuta’s not even trying to hide the way he’s looking.

jaehyun clears his throat, sharp.

“dude. seriously?”

yuta looks away like a scolded child, taeyong biting back a smile.

jaehyun’s voice is low now, just for you. “you might want to bend less, unless you want to start a war.”

you raise a brow, playfully. “they’re just looking.”

“yeah, and i don’t like it.”

he walks around the table, stops behind you. “want help?”

you nod, and he steps close. closer than he needs to. his front presses lightly against your back, firm and warm. he leans down, guiding your arms, his chest flush to you, his breath skating along the shell of your ear.

“hit the green. angle it toward the corner pocket. trust me, you’ll nail it.”

but you’re not listening. not really. not when his hand slides just a little too far down your arm, or when his hips nudge forward, enough to feel him. he’s doing it on purpose. there’s no way he isn’t.

you shift, bump your elbow lightly into his ribs. “you’re kind of all over me. i can’t focus like that.”

he chuckles, stepping back with both hands raised. “my bad. force of habit.”

you shoot. the ball sinks clean.

his voice lights up. “see? you are good.”

you smile despite yourself. “maybe you’re not a terrible coach.”

he high-fives you, fingers curling briefly around yours, and for a while, the game continues. laughter. teasing. another round of beers. the weight between you two loosens just a bit—but never disappears.

eventually, it’s time to leave. the guys stretch and yawn, pretending they aren’t already planning their next stop.

“we were thinking of hitting that new bar on third,” yuta says.

“nah,” jaehyun replies instantly, grabbing his jacket. “i’m taking y/n home.”

taeyong raises a brow but doesn’t argue. “alright. catch you later.”

once outside, the air feels cooler. quieter. you walk in silence for a few blocks, your body relaxing more than you expected. and then he says it.

“so… what happened exactly?”

you exhale, the weight returning. “the apartment above mine caught fire. no one got hurt, but they say the building’s not safe. i can’t go back until it’s inspected and fixed. and all my friends live with their boyfriends, or in places too cramped to take someone in.”

he nods slowly, not pushing.

“you can stay with me,” he says after a beat. “just… not tonight.”

you look up at him, confused. “why not?”

he scratches the back of his neck, a little embarrassed.

“my roommate kicked me out for the night. his girlfriend’s coming over, and well… you know.”

you do. you laugh a little, half amused, half exhausted. “so that’s why you were out?”

“yeah. didn’t feel like hearing them fuck through the wall.”

you both fall silent, until he looks to the right. neon lights spill across the sidewalk in pinks and reds. your eyes follow his line of sight.

a motel.

he glances back at you, one brow lifted. “wanna crash there for tonight? i’ll get you a room.”

you don’t even hesitate.

“yes. please.”

he smiles, soft and genuine this time. “come on, then.”

and for the first time that night, you feel like you might actually sleep without everything collapsing around you.

the motel room was small and stuffy, the thick summer air clinging to your skin the moment you stepped inside. the door clicked shut behind you, and jaehyun immediately moved to the wall-mounted control, turning on the air conditioner with a low hum that filled the silence. still, it was warm, your skin damp with sweat and exhaustion. you sat on the edge of the bed, waving a hand lazily in front of your face as you tried to cool off, your other hand pushing your hair away from your neck.

“fuck, it’s hot,” you muttered, fingers fumbling with your hair, searching for a hair tie that wasn’t there.

“here,” jaehyun said, tossing something onto the bed beside you. it was a small plastic bag, printed with the motel’s name in red cursive. you opened it, expecting maybe a water bottle or a towel, but instead found a collection of travel-sized soaps, a tiny bottle of shampoo, a mint, two condoms in gold wrappers… and a hair tie. your fingers brushed over it before you looked up at him with a raised brow.

“you know this place too well.”

he scoffed, smirking as he leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. “maybe you’re just the one who doesn’t know anything.”

his voice held a mocking edge, teasing you like he always did, like he hadn’t fucked you stupid on your own bed two weeks ago and left without so much as a real goodbye.

you reached into the plastic bag and pulled out the small collection of motel goodies, letting your fingers slide over the items until they wrapped around the foil square. it crinkled softly between your fingertips as you held it up, raising your brows as your eyes flicked to him.

“do these even fit you?” you asked, tone playful but low, teasing.

he huffed a quiet laugh, pushing his tongue to the inside of his cheek as he stepped closer, arms still crossed over his chest.

“not really,” he said. “those are standard size. they don’t fit me right.”

you rolled your eyes, even as your cheeks burned with something you didn’t want to name. reaching back, you tied your hair up with the elastic, then stood up to stretch, pretending not to care that he was watching you.

jaehyun checked his phone and sighed. “i should go. the guys are probably already at the next bar.”

your chest tightened, confusion blooming low and sour in your stomach. you blinked. “you’re leaving?”

“wasn’t the plan to crash here just for you?” he teased, but there was something unreadable in his eyes.

you hesitated, lips parting. you didn’t want to ask him to stay. you didn’t want to sound needy. but the thought of him walking out again, of sleeping alone in a motel bed you hadn’t paid for, filled you with a sudden ache.

“it’s hot as hell out there,” you said, stepping closer. “you should shower. you’ll feel better.”

he arched a brow. “i showered before going out.”

“so what?” you shrugged, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt. “i think you should shower again.”

he stared at you for a beat, eyes darkening as the realization clicked into place. “ah,” he murmured, tilting his head. “so that’s what this is.”

your body moved before you could think—crawling up onto the bed, slow and deliberate, your eyes never leaving his. he didn’t move, just watched as you reached him, rising on your knees to press your palms to his chest. his shirt was soft and damp against your fingers. you tilted your face up to his, lips barely brushing his collarbone.

“don’t go,” you whispered. “you’re already here… might as well make it worth it.”

his hand slid to the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair, lips ghosting over your temple as he muttered, low and sinful, “you’re playing a dangerous game, baby.”

your heart skipped a beat. you weren’t even trying to hide the way your gaze dropped to the bulge in his pants. his words shouldn’t have made your thighs press together like that, shouldn’t have sent that deep, pulsing warmth down your spine, but fuck—he was so casual about it, so sure of himself, it made your breath hitch. he was already hard. you could see it now. and he hadn’t even touched you yet.

you let the condom fall onto the bed as your hand drifted slowly to the front of his pants, fingers hovering before you made contact. the heat radiating through the fabric was almost unbearable, and when you finally palmed him through it, his jaw flexed. your voice came out soft, a little shaky, but full of intent.

“can i see it?”

his eyes darkened immediately, and he didn’t say anything for a moment, just watched you with that unreadable expression that made your stomach twist. then he nodded, slow and sure, backing up and letting himself fall onto the bed. he pulled his shirt off in one swift motion and laid back, propping his hands behind his head, the muscles of his arms flexing, chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm that made your mouth go dry.

“go ahead,” he murmured, “since you’re so curious.”

his pants were already unbuttoned, boxers peeking out from the waistband. your gaze dropped to the heavy outline straining against the fabric, your fingers trembling slightly as you reached for him. it was your first time doing this—your first time touching a guy like this—and you felt nervous, eager, clumsy all at once. you tugged his pants lower until they pooled around his thighs, revealing the thick bulge beneath his briefs.

when you finally pushed those down too, your eyes widened slightly. your hand wrapped around him, a little too firm, and you felt him twitch under your touch.

“not so rough,” he said, his voice low, half-laughing, half-breathless. “be gentle.”

you nodded, swallowing hard, adjusting your grip, your thumb brushing along the tip. the weight and warmth of him in your palm was foreign and overwhelming. your head dipped forward and you kissed him there, soft and uncertain. he sucked in a breath, his abs tightening, his hand still behind his head but his knuckles whitening with the way he gripped the pillow.

you let your tongue trace slowly along the underside, tasting him, feeling him throb with every slow movement. then you wrapped your lips around the head and began to take him in, your hand stroking what you couldn’t fit just yet.

he made a sound—a sharp breath, a curse under his breath—and when you looked up, his face was flushed, his eyes half-lidded with something between shock and desperation.

“am i doing it right?” you asked, pulling back slightly, your lips glossy, your voice soft and unsure.

“fuck, yes,” he groaned, his head falling back against the pillow. “you’re gonna kill me if you keep looking at me like that.”

his hips bucked slightly, involuntary, and you took him deeper this time, slowly, carefully, adjusting to the rhythm, feeling the way his thighs tensed beneath your touch. his breathing grew heavier, his abs flexing with every flick of your tongue, every soft suck, every messy, eager movement. he reached down, fingers threading into your hair, not to guide you, just to anchor himself, as if grounding his sanity with the feeling of you.

“shit, baby—” he moaned, his voice rough now, desperate. “just like that. don’t stop.”

you didn’t. you hollowed your cheeks and moved faster, more confident now, loving the way he twitched on your tongue, the way his composure was crumbling second by second. his fingers tightened in your hair and his thighs trembled slightly.

“fuck, i’m close—” he gasped.

you kept going, feeling his release building, tasting the salty pre-come on your tongue, and when he finally came with a low, strangled groan, hips jerking, voice broken and raw—he said your name like a plea.

you swallowed, slow and deliberate, licking your lips as you looked up at him. he looked dazed, ruined, beautiful. his chest was heaving, sweat on his brow, his skin flushed.

“jesus,” he whispered, a half-laugh escaping his lips as he finally let go of your hair. “where the hell did you learn to do that?”

you just smiled, your lips still tingling, proud of yourself, of how undone he looked—like you were the only one who had ever touched him like that.

you crawled back up the bed, breath still shallow from everything you had just done, and started peeling your clothes off one by one. your fingers fumbled slightly from how needy you felt, pulling your shirt over your head, tossing it aside without care, followed by your bra, panties, everything that separated your burning skin from his. his eyes were on you the entire time—hungry, intense, reverent. he didn’t say anything, just licked his lips and let his gaze roam across your body like he was starving for it.

“i want to ride you,” you said, voice low, thick with want.

his mouth parted slightly, surprise flickering in his eyes, before he leaned over to grab something from his wallet on the nightstand. “wait,” he murmured, pulling out a foil wrapper—different from the motel ones. thicker, black, and unmistakably his. “these are the ones that actually fit.”

you watched him tear the wrapper open and roll it on effortlessly, his movements confident but still urgent, like he’d been holding himself back just for you. when he was ready, he laid back again, arms slightly outstretched, his eyes locked on yours.

“come here,” he said. “you can ride me now.”

you bit your lip and moved quickly, like you couldn’t bear to wait another second. and you really couldn’t—you’d been on edge for days. the stress, the instability, not knowing where you’d sleep, all of it had pressed down on you like a weight you couldn’t shake. but when you were with him, everything slowed. everything made sense. and right now, you just needed to feel him, to get lost in him.

you straddled his hips, your knees on either side of his thighs, palms pressing against his firm chest. his hands found your waist, warm and steady, as you guided yourself over him. he was so hard, so thick, and as you slowly lowered yourself onto him, you gasped—half from the stretch, half from the overwhelming feeling of finally, finally being this close. his cock filled you inch by inch, making your walls clench around him involuntarily, your breath hitching as you adjusted.

“fuck, you’re tight,” he groaned, brows furrowed, his fingers digging into your skin like he was barely holding on.

your eyes fluttered shut as you took him deeper, until your hips met his and your thighs were trembling from the intensity. you rested your hands on his abs, taking a moment to breathe through it, to feel him throbbing inside you.

“you okay?” he asked, voice softer now, thumb brushing along your hip.

you nodded, leaning down to kiss him, slow and messy. then you began to move—shallow at first, testing the pace, but soon you were rolling your hips, finding a rhythm that made your body light up with fire. every movement dragged delicious friction along your walls, and the way he filled you, stretched you, made you moan softly, needily.

his hands slid up to your breasts, thumbs circling your nipples until they peaked, sensitive and aching. he cupped them both, lifting himself slightly to suck one into his mouth. his tongue was hot and wet, swirling around the sensitive nub while his other hand played with the other breast, squeezing, pinching gently, making your hips grind harder against him.

“god, you feel so good,” he murmured against your skin, lips still wrapped around your nipple, his voice sending vibrations through your chest.

your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling slightly as you rode him faster now, the slap of your skin meeting his echoing in the cheap motel room. your breath came in short, ragged gasps, your body trembling as the pleasure built. he sucked harder on your breast, then switched to the other, moaning into you like he was addicted to the taste of your skin.

“jaehyun—” you whimpered, grinding down harder, desperate for release. “i’m close…”

“don’t stop,” he said, breathless, one hand sliding down between your bodies to rub tight, fast circles against your clit. “cum for me, baby. let me feel it.”

you cried out, body shaking as the orgasm ripped through you, thighs quivering, cunt pulsing around him in waves that felt endless. he grunted beneath you, lost in the way you clenched around him, hips thrusting up as he chased his own high, until with a deep moan and your name on his lips, he came too—hard, twitching inside you, eyes clenched shut, body taut with release.

you collapsed on top of him, breath tangled with his, both of you sweaty, shaky, completely undone.

after a moment of recovery, limbs tangled and skin damp with sweat, jaehyun pulled you close and pressed a soft kiss against your shoulder.

“we should shower,” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and husky. “it’s hot as hell in here.”

you hummed in agreement, letting him guide you out of the bed. your legs felt like jelly, sore and shaky, but his arm stayed around your waist, grounding you. the bathroom light was harsh, flickering slightly like everything else in that old motel, but the water came out warm and steady. steam quickly filled the small space.

you stepped into the shower first, sighing as the water hit your back, washing away the sweat and lingering stickiness. jaehyun stepped in behind you, his body pressing up against yours, his arms wrapping loosely around your waist. the moment should’ve been calm, domestic, but his hands couldn’t help but wander.

his lips brushed your neck, wet and slow, while his fingers slid up your stomach to cup your breasts again. “couldn’t stop thinking about these,” he whispered, licking a droplet of water from your shoulder.

you tilted your head, letting him kiss you deeper. your back arched instinctively, pressing into him, and you felt his cock hardening against the curve of your ass. “again?” you teased breathlessly.

“you’re too fucking hot not to,” he said, voice rough, before turning you around so your back was against the cold tile. his mouth claimed yours, tongue exploring like he hadn’t just come not long ago. he lifted one of your legs, hooking it over his hip, and the tip of his cock rubbed against your folds, teasing.

you gasped as he slipped inside again—this time slower, deeper, the water pouring down your bodies as he began to move. the shower was tight, cramped, but that only made it hotter. the sound of skin on skin was drowned by the water, but you could hear him panting in your ear, could feel the way his mouth latched onto your nipple again, his thrusts picking up pace.

you held onto him, fingers digging into his shoulders, your moans muffled against his neck. it was messy, rushed, passionate. and when you came again, clenching around him, he followed quickly, holding you tight as he spilled inside the condom once more, both of you trembling under the hot spray.

after the shower, you dried off, still breathless, your legs wobbling every time you moved. you collapsed into bed with a sigh, pulling the thin sheet over your body. jaehyun lay beside you for a few minutes, stroking your hair, until sleep started to pull you under.

when you woke up, sunlight was leaking through the curtains, weak and golden. the bed beside you was empty. you blinked against the brightness, groaning at the soreness in your thighs and hips. everything hurt deliciously. you reached for your phone on the nightstand, and saw a message waiting from jaehyun.

had to leave early. training. don’t worry about time, i extended the checkout. i’ll call you when i’m done and take you to my place. there’s food for you on the table. eat, baby.

you sat up, rubbing your eyes and looking around. on the small glass table near the window sat a paper bag from starbucks. you got up, curious, and opened it to find a warm cheese sandwich and your favorite coffee. it made you smile—something about the quiet thoughtfulness of it, after such a dirty night, made your chest feel warm.

later that day, you were sitting on the grass outside campus with your friends—jungeun, jinsol, and sooyoung. the sun was soft and the air carried the scent of spring. they were all staring at you like a pack of wolves, eyes gleaming with barely-concealed curiosity.

“so…” jungeun started, tilting her head, “are you going to keep avoiding our questions, or are you finally going to spill?”

“you kept your secret very well” jinsol added with a smirk. “you disappeared overnight and came back all smiley and glowing. bitch, don’t lie.”

you looked away, sipping your iced tea and trying to play it cool. “we’ve just been hanging out… it’s nothing serious.”

“nothing serious my ass,” sooyoung said, lying on her back and shielding her eyes from the sun. “ you think we don't remember how you got when he arrived at the party?”

you blushed furiously, heart pounding, but tried to keep your tone steady. “i’m not giving you the details. and definitely not about that.”

jinsol groaned. “come on. we just want to know one thing.”

“is his dick as perfect as we imagine?” jungeun whispered dramatically, making everyone laugh.

you covered your face with your hands. “i’m not talking about his dick.”

“that’s not a no,” sooyoung chimed in.

you tried not to laugh, cheeks burning. “we’ve only gone out a couple times. that’s all.”

jinsol leaned in closer. “i think it’s only a matter of time before you two become official. honestly, he seems like he really likes you.”

but sooyoung shook her head. “nah. not yet. she hasn’t gotten over dong sicheng.”

that name hit you like a soft, invisible bruise. you looked down at your drink, lips pressed together.

“he was just… a phase,” you muttered.

sooyoung arched a brow. “a phase you’ve been stuck on for like a year.”

“he never liked me like that anyway,” you said, trying to keep the bitterness out of your voice. “i was just his art buddy. his therapist. his background character.”

“yeah, well,” jungeun said gently, “maybe jaehyun’s your plot twist.”

you didn’t reply. but for a moment, you let yourself imagine that possibility. and it didn’t feel so far-fetched.

“actually,” jungeun chimed in, casually tossing a piece of grass into the air, “i heard something about sicheng.”

your head snapped in her direction before you could stop yourself. your heart skipped and thumped oddly in your chest.

“yeah?” you tried to sound indifferent, but the way your voice wavered betrayed you.

“mhm,” she said, glancing at the others. “one of the girls from the art department told me he’s coming back this semester. apparently he finally sorted out his exchange paperwork.”

“guess you’ll be bumping into him again,” sooyoung said, nudging your shoulder with a teasing smirk. “don’t go falling all over him again. please use your brain this time.”

“i didn’t—” you started, but then just sighed. “i know.”

jinsol gave you a knowing look. “well, i hope you don’t fuck it up with jaehyun over some old fantasy. like… jaehyun’s not just hot. he’s actually a good guy.”

sooyoung snorted. “a hot guy with a career path and muscle definition that could resurrect me.”

“he’s not just hot,” jungeun added, more serious. “he’s crazy talented. my brother’s obsessed with local sports and he says jaehyun’s a legend around here. three-time regional boxing champ. undefeated.”

you blinked. “wait, really?”

“mmhmm,” she said. “he’s been competing for like three years straight. he’s got insane discipline. trains daily, eats clean, sleeps early unless he’s too busy fucking you apparently—ow!” she laughed when you slapped her thigh in protest.

but your mind was already conjuring images… jaehyun in the ring, sweat dripping from his brow, his jaw set with sharp focus. his body gleaming under the lights—broad shoulders, cut arms, those tight abs tensing as he dodges, lunges, throws a punch. bruises on his ribs, a scratch near his lip, blood maybe on the edge of his gloves. heat rises to your cheeks as the image lingers—his body slightly damaged but so undeniably alive and powerful, all for something he loves.

he wasn’t just hot. he was dedicated. passionate. and god, he looked good doing it.

sooyoung sighed dramatically beside you. “i want a boyfriend like that. good body. good face. and a dick that ruins lives.”

“jesus christ,” jinsol muttered, snorting into her drink.

“what?” sooyoung shrugged. “i’m just saying. it’s the dream.”

you shook your head, cheeks flushed. “he’s not my boyfriend.”

they all stared at you.

“yet,” jungeun said, grinning.

you looked down at your phone, pretending to be unbothered, but the way your stomach flipped said otherwise.

not your boyfriend. not officially.

but the way he touched you. the way he looked at you like you mattered—like he saw more than just sex.

it made you wonder.

what if he could be?

at sunset, you’re waiting just outside the university gym, sitting on the edge of a planter box as the warm, golden light spills across the campus. the air still holds a trace of the day’s heat, but it's softened now, carried gently by the evening breeze. your phone buzzes in your lap, but you ignore it, eyes focused on the gym entrance.

jaehyun walks out a moment later, his presence like gravity pulling your attention. he’s wearing a fitted black t-shirt that clings slightly to his damp skin, khaki shorts that show off his toned legs, and worn white sneakers. his training bag is slung over one shoulder, and droplets of water still trail from the ends of his freshly washed hair. he must’ve taken a quick shower after practice. his smile is soft, those signature dimples showing as he spots you.

“you ready to head to the apartment?” he asks, stopping in front of you. his voice is calm, smooth, like there's no rush.

“yeah, but… before that, i want to take you out to eat,” you say as you stand, brushing your hands over your clothes.

his brows raise slightly in surprise. “why?”

you shift your weight from one foot to the other. “i just… it’s a thank you. for taking me to the motel, for getting me food, for extending the time. and now you’re letting me stay at your place, so…” you trail off, cheeks heating up.

he tilts his head, eyes searching yours. “you don’t have to do that. it wasn’t a big deal.”

you bite your lip and shrug. “well, it is to me. no guy’s ever treated me like that before, so… i thought it’d be important.”

that seems to catch him off guard. he stares at you for a second longer, then nods. “alright. i’ll let you treat me. but don’t expect me to be easy to impress,” he teases, the corners of his mouth lifting.

you smile, relieved. “what’s your favorite food?”

he thinks for a second, then frowns. “i don’t really have one. i’ve been on a strict diet lately since i’ve got more tournaments coming up.”

your jaw drops slightly. “what do you mean you don’t have a favorite food? come on.”

he chuckles. “i’m serious. everything’s been about protein, greens, hydration… it’s been pretty boring.”

“that’s tragic,” you say with mock seriousness. “you’re in your twenties and you’re telling me you don’t even crave ramen or tteokbokki?”

“okay, fine,” he laughs. “i haven’t had kimbap in forever. does that count?”

you grin. “perfect. i know this place that makes really good kimbap.”

a little while later, you’re both seated at a small table in a cozy street-side diner. the kimbap comes out quickly, warm and fresh, and jaehyun’s eyes light up when he takes the first bite.

“this is really good,” he says with a satisfied sigh.

“you look happy,” you tease, watching the way he leans back in his seat, finally relaxed.

he nods, swallowing. “i am. i’ve got a big fight coming up—i’ll be up against a nationally ranked fighter. if i win, i’ll qualify for the majors.”

your eyes widen. “that’s huge! jaehyun, oh my god, congratulations!”

he rubs the back of his neck, clearly flustered by your excitement. “thanks… i’m trying not to jinx it.”

“you’re gonna crush it. you’re so disciplined and talented—seriously, it’s inspiring.” you smile at him, and it’s completely honest.

he goes quiet for a second, then looks down with a tiny smile of his own. he’s blushing. the tough, cocky boxer—blushing.

“you’re really bad at taking compliments, huh?” you say, laughing gently.

“maybe,” he replies with a grin, nudging your foot under the table. “but i don’t mind it when it’s you.”

you finish eating with that warm, playful tension between you, the kind that always seems to build whenever you’re with him.

you're walking beside jaehyun along the crowded sidewalk, the sun already sinking low, casting an orange glow on the buildings around you. he’s telling you something about a professor at the university who never shows up on time, and you’re half-listening, half-distracted by the soft drip of water from his hair. he smells faintly of soap and cologne, clean and warm. you smile at the way his voice hums, deep and casual.

but then, suddenly—

“jaehyun!” a bright, feminine voice cuts through the air.

before you can even turn, there’s a girl jumping on him—literally throwing her arms around his neck. you blink, startled, and take a step back. jaehyun catches her easily, like it’s nothing, one of his hands settling on her waist, holding her with casual familiarity. his smile grows wider, those pretty dimples showing instantly.

“noona, what are you doing here?” he asks, clearly happy to see her.

“i came to visit some friends,” she says sweetly, brushing her shiny, curled hair behind her ear. her eyes flick down his body like she’s assessing him. “you’ve gotten taller… or maybe just your shoulders?” she teases, reaching out to squeeze his bicep without hesitation.

you feel something twist in your chest. it’s hot and petty, and you know it, but still—you don’t like the way she’s touching him. you don’t like how close they are. how… familiar they are.

is she his girlfriend?

the thought hits you like a slap. no. no way. that would be cruel—after what you and jaehyun did… after he held you and kissed you and let you ride him like you were the only girl in the world.

the girl finally looks at you. her face lights up with surprise and a sly sparkle in her eyes. she's polished—makeup flawless, glossed lips, expensive jewelry. everything about her screams elegance. you suddenly feel plain in comparison.

“oh?” she says, eyeing you. “are you jaehyun’s girlfriend?”

your stomach drops. but at the same time, some part of you feels… relieved. so she isn't his girlfriend.

“ah… she’s…” jaehyun starts slowly, glancing at you, voice uncertain. “she’s my friend.”

“nice to meet you!” she chirps, stepping forward and taking both your hands enthusiastically. “i’m miyeon, jaehyun’s childhood friend.”

“a-ah… i’m y/n. nice to meet you too,” you say, barely holding your voice steady.

miyeon turns back to him with a soft pout. “jaehyun, you should bring y/n to our store sometime. you haven’t visited in so long.”

“i will. soon,” he says, his tone easy, but not committed. she beams and clings to his arm again, pressing against him in a way that makes your skin burn.

after a bit more small talk, she waves goodbye, and you and jaehyun continue walking. you’re quiet. so is he.

the train ride is short, but quiet too. you’re still chewing on the jealousy simmering low in your stomach. you don’t say a word until you’re back on the street again, just a few blocks from his apartment.

“jaehyun,” you say suddenly, stopping in your tracks.

he turns to face you, brows lifted.

you stand still for a second, then open your arms slightly—awkwardly. as if you’re asking for a hug.

he doesn’t hesitate.

jaehyun steps into you and wraps his arms around your body, holding you close. you melt into his chest.

“are you copying my noona?” he teases softly against your hair.

you shake your head lightly, but your cheeks are burning.

he leans back just enough to look into your eyes. “now i really can’t wait to get home,” he says with a grin and a very obvious double meaning.

you scoff and push him back a little, pretending to be annoyed—but you’re not. not really.

jaehyun unlocks the front door with one hand, still carrying his gym bag over his shoulder. he nudges the door open with his foot, letting you step in first. the place smells faintly of laundry detergent and cedarwood. it’s clean but lived-in, with a few scattered training wraps on the floor and a row of protein bottles lined up neatly on a shelf.

“make yourself at home,” he says, dropping his bag with a dull thud. “my roommate, junhoe, isn’t here. he’s probably off fucking his girl somewhere.”

you chuckle, still standing in the entryway.

jaehyun walks ahead, opening a side door. “this is the study,” he says, gesturing. it’s a small room, barely wide enough to fit a desk and some shelves, but there’s a window with good light and it smells like old books. “i can clean it up and maybe get a futon or something in here if you’re staying.”

you nod slowly, looking around, but your eyes keep drifting back to him. he’s leaned in the doorway now, watching you with that lazy, unreadable gaze, the same one he used to look at you that night at the motel—right before you climbed into his lap.

“there’s an extra mattress in my room,” he adds casually, but his mouth quirks up in a smirk that gives him away. “wanna see?”

you raise a brow. “you’re so subtle, jaehyun.”

he laughs, voice low and warm, and then turns on his heel. you follow him down the short hallway to his bedroom. the lights are dimmed, his bed already made, a dark gray comforter spread out neatly. he gestures toward the corner, where a folded mattress leans against the wall. “see? told you.”

but you’re not looking at the mattress.

you’re looking at him.

at the way the veins in his arms stretch as he runs a hand through his damp hair. at the way his shirt clings to the firm lines of his torso. at the faint red bruise just below his jaw—probably from sparring, but it looks like something you'd want to kiss.

“do you want to shower first?” he asks, turning back to you.

you shake your head. "i already showered earlier.”

“true,” he says, stepping closer. “but that was to wash off the sweat.”

“and this one would be to…”

he’s right in front of you now. inches away. his voice drops to a whisper.

“to get dirty again.”

you don’t move. you just look at him, look at the slight twitch in his jaw, the way his eyes flick to your lips. then you reach out, grab the hem of his shirt, and lift it over his head in one slow, steady motion.

jaehyun breathes in sharp and deep as your fingers skim his chest. his body is insane—broad shoulders, thick arms, chest hard as stone and wrapped in smooth golden skin. faint bruises pepper his ribs, evidence of training, and you drag your hands over one without thinking.

“you’re really something else,” you murmur.

“so are you,” he says hoarsely, fingers already at the waistband of your jeans.

clothes come off fast after that.

you fall together onto the mattress, his mouth hungry on yours. he kisses you like he’s starving, hands exploring, groping, dragging down your back. he moans against your lips when you grind your hips down on his thigh, searching for friction.

then he flips you over.

pins your wrists above your head with one hand, the other tracing down your stomach, between your legs.

“still wet,” he murmurs. “even though i haven’t touched you in hours.”

“shut up,” you pant, arching your back.

he chuckles and lowers his head. his mouth finds your neck, your collarbone, your breasts—licking, sucking, biting just enough to leave a mark. you cry out when his fingers finally slide between your folds, slick and slow.

“shit, baby,” he whispers. “you feel so fucking good.”

“then stop teasing me,” you groan.

he smirks. “as you wish.”

and then he’s inside you.

thick. hot. stretching you open all over again.

your back bows. his name spills from your lips like a prayer.

he moves slow at first—deep, careful strokes that make you shudder. but then he picks up the pace. harder. faster. his skin slaps against yours, your breath hitching with every thrust. the bed creaks. his grip bruises your hips. and you love it.

“jaehyun—f-fuck—”

“you like that?” he growls, voice wrecked. “you like being fucked like this? like a real good girl?”

you nod, crying out as your orgasm builds.

“i’m close,” you moan, nails digging into his back.

“come for me, baby,” he pants, kissing your lips hard. “i wanna feel you come around me.”

and you do.

it hits you fast, hard, white-hot.

your whole body trembles. he follows right after, gasping your name, burying himself deep inside you with one final thrust.

you lay there for a while, tangled together, sweat cooling on your skin.

his arms wrapped around you.

his lips brushing your forehead.

jaehyun is quiet for a long time after he comes, his chest rising and falling against yours as he tries to steady his breathing.

the room is dim, but you can feel the heat radiating off his body, the way his arms tighten around you, protective and gentle. he nuzzles into your neck, his lips brushing the damp skin there, not in a sexual way this time—more like he's grounding himself in your presence. you lie there, tangled up in sheets and each other, the only sound being the soft hum of the ceiling fan and your hearts calming down in sync.

he eventually pulls away just enough to look at you, eyes hooded but soft, and his fingers trace down the side of your face, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “are you okay?” he whispers, voice a little raspy, a little concerned.

you nod, smiling faintly, and reach up to cup his cheek. “yeah. just... full. in every way.”

his lips quirk into a crooked smile and he kisses your forehead. “good.” he stands, stretching just a bit before grabbing a clean towel from a nearby shelf. he wipes you down carefully, not rushing, not skipping a beat. he doesn’t say much during it, but the way he handles you—like you’re something delicate, like this moment matters—says everything you need to hear. afterward, he throws the towel into a laundry basket, slips on a pair of loose sweatpants, and pulls a t-shirt over his head. he brings you one of his shirts, big and worn and soft, and you slip it on before curling back into his bed. he climbs in beside you and pulls the blanket over both of you, spooning you close, one hand resting low on your belly, thumb tracing circles into your skin.

you're just starting to doze off in his arms when the front door creaks open and you both hear the familiar thump of sneakers being kicked off.

“yo,” comes a male voice from the hall. jaehyun groans softly and pulls back just enough to peek out from under the blanket.

“junhoe,” he mutters.

a few seconds later, a tall guy with sharp eyes and dyed ash-blond hair pops his head into the room. he freezes when he sees you in bed, cheeks flushing slightly, but he raises a hand in greeting anyway.

“ah... so you finally brought someone home. what’s up?” he says with a knowing smirk.

“shut up,” jaehyun groans.

you sit up slowly, pulling the blanket around yourself as you nod politely. “hi…”

“nice to meet you,” junhoe says. “don’t worry, i’m cool with it. just—maybe not when my girlfriend comes over. she gets… ideas.”

“no problem,” jaehyun replies casually. “i already told her about the study room.”

junhoe raises an eyebrow. “you’re letting her stay here?”

jaehyun just shrugs with that same smirk. “i don’t mind.”

junhoe glances between the two of you and chuckles. “cool. well, i'm grabbing some food and crashing. welcome to the apartment.”

he disappears down the hall and jaehyun flops back down next to you, draping his arm over your waist again. “that went better than i expected.”

“he seems nice,” you murmur, cheek resting against his chest.

jaehyun hums in agreement, and the two of you drift off again—safe, warm, and maybe just a little too comfortable in each other’s arms.

a few days later, you’re at campus, carrying a stack of large framed canvases and a bundle of messy supplies balanced precariously in your arms. you’re on your way to return everything to the storage room after a long morning in the art studio, still wearing a paint-stained hoodie and some old jeans. your focus is on not dropping anything when suddenly, someone rounds the corner at the same time as you—and crashes right into you.

“whoa—shit, sorry!” says a familiar voice as the both of you stumble. your brushes clatter to the ground, but strong arms steady you, grabbing your shoulders gently.

you look up—and your breath catches.

dong sicheng.

he’s smiling, wide and bright, and for a second you almost forget how to speak. his hair is longer now, a little shaggier, his features more defined. he’s still beautiful, unfairly so, but the braces he used to have are gone, replaced by a dazzling, smooth smile. he’s wearing a soft beige sweater and dark slacks, looking expensive in that effortless way he always did. he bends down immediately, helping you pick up your supplies.

“y/n?” he says, looking genuinely happy. “wow—it’s really you”.

“i thought you were on a break?” your voice barely left your mouth.

“i was. but i came back early,” he replies, smiling.

you forcing a smile even though something tugs hard at your chest. “and you… you look great, sicheng.”

he blushes a little, brushing some hair behind his ear. “so do you,” he says, kind as ever. “it’s really good to see you.”

you nod, trying not to let your emotions show. because what are you supposed to say? i missed you. i thought about you more than i should’ve. i wondered what might’ve happened if i’d just said something back then.

but you never did.

and now he’s here, standing in front of you with that same kind warmth in his eyes, and you feel it—nostalgia, longing, something bittersweet blooming in your chest.

you chat for a while, catching up on classes and schedules, and he insists on helping you carry the rest of your things to the storage room. you smile and joke like nothing's off. like you’re not thinking about all the things you never said. because what would be the point now?

still, as he walks beside you, close and careful not to bump your paintings again, you can’t help but glance over at him—at the smile, at the way the sun catches the curve of his jaw.

and you wonder if part of your heart still belongs to him. just a little.

after helping you carry the last of your things to the storage room, sicheng stretches his arms with a quiet sigh and then turns to you with that soft little smile you remember all too well. “hey,” he says, voice gentle, “do you have time for a coffee? i don’t have class until later and… it’d be nice to talk more.”

you hesitate only a second before nodding. “sure. i’d like that.”

you end up at a small café just off campus, tucked between an old bookstore and a flower shop. it’s quiet, the kind of place that smells like roasted beans and cinnamon, with soft music playing through slightly scratchy speakers. you sit by the window, sunlight pouring in and making his hair glow like spun gold. he leans forward on the table, hands wrapped around a cup of matcha, listening to you as you ramble a little about your classes, your projects, the endless deadlines. it feels easy. too easy. almost like the last year never happened.

eventually, curiosity gets the best of you. you glance at him between sips of your drink, then lower your cup and ask, trying to sound casual, “have you been seeing anyone lately?”

he blinks, surprised for a moment. then that smile returns—slow, knowing, maybe even a little amused. “no,” he says. “this year’s been… intense. i’ve been at the dance academy full time, and trying to sort out all the paperwork to get back here took everything out of me.” he shrugs, rolling his cup between his palms. “didn’t leave much space for dating.”

you nod, trying to hide how fast your heart is beating.

“besides,” he adds, his gaze locking onto yours, “there was no one in china who really caught my attention.”

his words hit you in the chest, knocking the air out of your lungs in a way that doesn’t hurt but leaves you speechless. it’s not just what he says—it’s the way he says it, the way his eyes hold yours like he’s daring you to admit something, like he’s just waiting for you to fall into the trap he’s carefully set with his smile and his calm.

you clear your throat. “well… me neither,” you say softly. “no dating. i’ve been really focused on school and, i guess… there’s no one who really stands out to me either.”

he raises his eyebrows a little, his lips curling as if to say “really?” but he doesn’t push. instead, he changes the subject with a soft laugh. “i need to cut my hair soon. i’ve been meaning to, but with everything going on i haven’t had time to rest, let alone make an appointment.”

you hum in agreement, letting your eyes drift over his face, the softness in his features, the way his lashes catch the light.

“but i’m really glad we got to catch up today,” he says, brushing a thumb over the rim of his cup. “i missed this. i missed talking to you. i hope we get to take some classes together this term—maybe even work on a project again. like the old days.”

your heart skips. not in a dramatic, crashing way, but in a quiet flutter that you try not to show on your face. you smile instead, nodding, and say, “yeah. me too.”

the walk back to jaehyun’s place is a blur. your body’s moving through the city, but your mind’s still in that café, replaying the way sicheng looked at you, the calm certainty in his voice, the not-so-innocent way he said there was no one who caught his eye. you keep wondering—was he just being nice? was he flirting? was it real? it shouldn’t matter, not after everything with jaehyun, not when you’ve already crossed that line with someone else… but your heart doesn’t care about timing, or logic, or consequences. it only knows the warm ache of “what if.”

you don’t even realize you’ve arrived until you hear jaehyun’s voice calling out from inside the apartment. “y/n? you’re back?”

you step in, taking off your shoes as the door closes behind you, and he appears from the hallway looking a little flushed, a rag in his hand and a faint sheen of sweat on his neck. “i was just cleaning the studio for you,” he says, waving toward the small room down the hall. “it’s not huge, but with the light in there and some organizing, it’ll be perfect.”

you walk in behind him, noticing how he’s already cleared space in the corner, set up a small table for your supplies, even propped one of your canvases against the wall. on the floor, there’s a mattress laid out neatly with a pillow and blanket, and he turns to you a little sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.

“i, uh… i don’t have a bed frame for the extra mattress yet,” he says. “but don’t worry, i’m not gonna make you sleep like that. not when you're my guest.” he gestures toward his bedroom. “so, you’ll sleep with me. i mean—not like with me,” he adds quickly, ears turning red, “just, you know… in my room, you can have the bed if you want. i don’t mind sleeping here.”

you shake your head immediately. “i don’t want to take your space. it’s your room.”

but he just smiles at you, warm and sincere, and steps a little closer. “hey. you’re not taking anything. i want you to be comfortable here. i want you to feel like this is your space too, even if it’s temporary.” he looks at you for a long second, and then adds softly, “having you here… it already makes this place feel a little more like home.”

and just like that, something in your chest tightens—not painfully, but deep. a pull of affection, of something dangerous and familiar. you swallow hard, nodding, and whisper, “thank you, jaehyun.”

he grins, brushing his shoulder lightly against yours before walking off to put away the cleaning supplies, leaving you standing in the doorway of your new studio, heart full of too many things at once.

later that night, after unpacking the essentials and arranging a few of your supplies in the corner, you finally let yourself take a shower. the heat is unbearable—sticky and heavy, like it’s pressing against your skin—and jaehyun’s bathroom fills with steam almost immediately. you linger under the cold stream, letting it cool your body, calm your thoughts, and ease some of the tension still wound tightly in your chest after everything with sicheng.

you dry off and change into the lightest clothes you brought for sleeping: an old, thin cotton shirt and a pair of soft, loose shorts. no bra. it’s too hot, and your skin still feels tender from the shower. you gather your damp hair in a loose bun and step out into the hallway barefoot, following the quiet hum of a fan.

you find jaehyun in the studio—his new temporary bedroom for as long as you're staying. he’s sitting on the floor, legs stretched out in front of him, leaning back on his hands with a small oscillating fan blowing directly at his face. his black sleeveless shirt clings to his chest and shoulders, damp from sweat. the fabric is tight, showing off the sharp lines of his arms and torso, and the light gray sweatpants hanging low on his hips do nothing to distract from the way he looks: hot, flushed, and visibly uncomfortable.

you pause at the doorway, arms folded loosely across your chest, and tilt your head. “you look like you’re suffering.”

he turns to you, blinking slowly, his eyes dragging down your frame. you watch him swallow before giving you a small smile, breathless and sheepish. “yeah, the fan’s not doing much. this room is like an oven.”

you glance toward the hallway, then back at him. “you should sleep in your room. it’s cooler in there, and the a/c works. seriously, jaehyun, this heat could make you sick.”

he shakes his head, lifting a hand to wipe sweat from his neck. “i want you to be comfortable. you’re my guest, and that room’s yours now. i’ll be fine.”

you sigh, stepping further inside and lowering yourself beside him onto the mattress, knees brushing. “you’re being stubborn.”

“maybe,” he says softly, then adds with a smirk, “but you look cozy.”

you shrug, glancing down at your own body without thinking. the thin shirt clings to the curve of your chest, damp in places from residual heat and humidity. when you look back at him, his gaze has dropped—locked onto your chest, pupils darkening as his lips part just slightly.

his hand shifts, subtle and tentative, reaching as if to graze the side of your breast with the back of his fingers.

your reaction is immediate—you swat his hand away with a light slap, not harsh but firm enough to snap him out of it.

“don’t,” you say, voice low, a touch breathless. “they hurt.”

he blinks, confused. “they hurt?”

you nod, rubbing your arms. “since that night. i don’t know why. my nipples have been… sensitive. sore.”

he looks up at you again, something like guilt flickering across his face, mixed with an almost embarrassing curiosity. “shit. i didn’t know. i didn’t mean to—”

“i know,” you interrupt gently. “but i mean it. they’re really sensitive. it’s not just a little sore—it’s like… they get too sensitive to touch. even clothes feel like too much sometimes.”

the fan whirs between you, filling the silence with soft mechanical noise. his shoulder brushes yours as you sit side by side on the mattress, skin still too warm, hearts beating louder than they should.

then, softly, he leans closer. “can we… do it quietly?”

his voice is almost a whisper, barely audible above the fan, like he’s afraid of breaking the tension between you.

you turn to him with wide eyes. “jaehyun…”

he watches your face, eager but trying to be patient. “junhoe’s already asleep. he won’t hear a thing,” he murmurs. “and it’s not like he doesn’t know what we’ve been doing.”

you hesitate, biting your lip. “still, it wouldn’t be… appropriate.”

he smiles a little, tilting his head as he murmurs, “maybe not. but that’s never stopped us before.”

he shifts slightly, and that’s when you see it— the prominent bulge straining against the front of his sweatpants, thick and pressing insistently against the fabric.

your breath catches. your lips part unconsciously, tongue darting out to wet them as you swallow, hard.

your body betrays your logic—heat coils low in your stomach, and your thighs instinctively press together.

“…maybe,” you murmur, glancing away as if that could tame the look in his eyes, “we can be quiet…”

jaehyun doesn’t need more than that.

he leans in, hand cupping the back of your neck as he kisses you deeply, hot and hungry and slow. your mouths move together in perfect rhythm, muffled moans swallowed into each other as his fingers slip beneath the hem of your shirt. his palms are warm—calloused in places—and they glide up your ribs, dragging goosebumps in their wake until his thumbs brush beneath your breasts, avoiding your nipples carefully, remembering your earlier words.

you arch into him, knees parting as he presses you down onto the mattress, his body heavy and hot above yours. his sweatpants are tugged down just enough to free himself, and he groans softly against your neck as you reach down, wrap your hand around his length, guiding him to your entrance.

the stretch is slow, agonizingly deep. your breath hitches, nails curling into his back as your thighs lock around his waist.

“fuck,” he whispers, teeth grazing your ear. “so wet for me already.”

you hush him with a kiss, the angle messy and desperate. each roll of his hips is slow, controlled, but the pressure builds so fast you’re gasping into his mouth, fingers fisting the sheet beside you as you fight to stay quiet. his hand snakes between your bodies, fingers circling your clit with just enough pressure to have your body trembling beneath him.

he fucks you through it—deep, slow thrusts that have you clenching around him as you come, mouth open in a silent moan, your body arching into his until you feel like you're floating.

he follows soon after, muffling his own release into your shoulder, breathing ragged, his arms wrapped tightly around you like he never wants to let go.

afterwards, he doesn't move for a while—just rests his forehead against yours, his weight a comforting pressure, your bodies still joined, slick with heat and sweat and something much more tender.

“still too hot?” you whisper, brushing his damp hair back.

he chuckles softly, kissing your cheek. “worth it.”

the morning sun filters through the soft curtains, warming the kitchen tiles beneath your bare feet. you’re already awake, hair loosely tied, moving about quietly in the oversized shirt you changed out of earlier and a casual, short dress—something comfortable and light for the heat. the apartment is still drowsy, silent except for the sound of the pan sizzling and the gentle clinking of utensils as you prepare breakfast.

jaehyun appears behind you, shirtless, with messy hair and sleep still heavy in his eyes. he blinks, confused for a second, before a small smile pulls at his lips. “you’re already up?”

you glance over your shoulder and smile. “yeah. figured it was the least i could do. i’m taking over your space, after all.” you point to the neatly arranged plates on the counter. “i made something special for you—salmon, asparagus with a bit of lemon zest, egg whites with spinach, and some avocado toast. something clean, for your athlete diet.”

he flushes a little, eyes dropping to the food, then back to you. “you didn’t have to—”

“i wanted to.”

he doesn’t answer. instead, he steps closer, so close you feel the heat of his body behind you. his hands find your waist first, then glide up slowly, until his palms cup your breasts. his touch is careful, slow, fingers massaging softly, like he’s remembering what you told him about how sore they’ve been since you had sex. you exhale sharply, feeling the pull in your belly again.

“jaehyun…” you murmur, shifting slightly. “stop. junhoe could see.”

he leans in, presses a soft kiss to the shell of your ear. “he won’t be up for hours.”

but just then, a loud voice echoes down the hall. junhoe’s speaking—no, arguing—on the phone. you both freeze. his tone is annoyed, sharp, like he’s trying not to yell.

you push jaehyun back quickly, and he moves just in time to avoid suspicion as junhoe enters the kitchen. his expression shifts the moment he sees you—his frown smoothing into a smile.

“damn,” he says, sniffing the air. “you’re really making this place smell like home. i might need to learn your seasoning secrets.”

you laugh lightly, cheeks a bit pink, and he drops into a chair like the argument never happened. jaehyun joins you near the counter, acting casual, though you can still feel the ghost of his touch on your skin, the ache it left behind.

later, you're sitting in your morning class, a warm cup of coffee on the table beside your sketchpad. it’s quiet, the soft hum of discussion and charcoal against paper filling the room. you’re halfway through shading the curve of a collarbone when a familiar presence draws your gaze toward the door.

sicheng steps in.

his hair is shorter now—freshly cut, the soft brown strands falling over his forehead in a boyish fringe that makes him look impossibly youthful. there's no trace of the braces he used to wear, and his smile is just as warm, just as bright, but somehow… more refined. he’s dressed simply—black jeans, white oversized tee, sneakers still a little scuffed from dance practice. a tote bag hangs off his shoulder, half full of sketchbooks and folded dance clothes.

he notices you instantly, that same spark lighting his eyes. he waves, then walks over to take the seat beside yours like no time has passed. you smile back, but there’s something soft and bittersweet curled in your chest.

it’s strange—how seeing him again stirs all the memories like dust floating in sunlight.

jaehyun is like heat. sharp angles, smoldering glances, quiet control and intensity. he walks like the world bends for him, and he touches you like he owns your skin.

but sicheng is something else entirely.

his presence is gentle. like water, like a breeze, always moving around you instead of through you. he’s soft-spoken, thoughtful, and so expressive through movement—dance or drawing, it doesn’t matter. you don’t have to guess with sicheng. he always let you see him.

you find yourself watching him while he sketches beside you, his brow furrowed slightly in concentration, tongue peeking out at the corner of his mouth. you wonder if he meant it—what he said yesterday. that no one caught his eye in china. that he was too busy. that he was happy to be back with you.

and yet... you feel a pull in two directions.

your heart remembers how sicheng made you feel—safe, understood, like you were seen. but your body still aches for jaehyun, for the way he touches you, the way he whispers your name like it’s the only thing that matters.

you stare down at your drawing, your pencil hovering just above the page, and wonder how long you can keep walking this tightrope between nostalgia and desire.

the late afternoon light painted soft gold across the pavement as you and sicheng stepped out of the lecture hall, laughter low and easy between the two of you. your sketchbooks were tucked under your arm, the scent of coffee still lingering on your clothes. he said something about the way your shading had improved, and you smiled—genuinely, openly. it felt warm. safe. like home, if home had a heartbeat.

and then you felt it.

the heat of a gaze that wasn’t his.

jaehyun was across the courtyard, leaning against his car, arms crossed over his chest, black hoodie pulled over his head even in the heat. but his eyes—sharp, unrelenting—were fixed on you. or maybe on the way you looked at sicheng, as if he were something sacred, something carved out of soft marble and light.

your smile faltered for half a second. long enough.

jaehyun's brow furrowed, jaw tightening like it was holding back words he didn’t dare speak in public.

you said goodbye to sicheng shortly after, heart already twisting with the weight of what was coming.

the apartment door hadn’t even closed behind you before the silence turned heavy.

“so that’s him?” jaehyun asked from the kitchen, voice flat, almost too casual.

you paused, setting your bag down slowly. “what are you talking about?”

“the guy you were making heart eyes at all afternoon,” he said, turning around. “looked like you were about to drop to your knees and worship him.”

you rolled your eyes, your tone turning defensive. “don’t start.”

he took a step closer, eyes dark. “you really think i wouldn’t notice the way you looked at him? like he was the only person in the fucking world?”

you scoffed, crossing your arms. “and what if i did look at him like that? it’s not like you and i are anything.”

the silence after that was deafening.

you saw it—how his expression dropped, like you’d just pulled the rug out from under him. his shoulders tensed, breath hitching.

“so that’s all this is to you?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper. “just... physical?”

you swallowed hard. the answer was on your tongue before you could stop it. “yeah. i thought we were just... blowing off steam. relieving stress.”

jaehyun looked at you like you’d just shattered something sacred. his hand dragged through his hair, a humorless chuckle slipping past his lips as he stared at the floor.

“fuck. i was really out here thinking we were building something,” he muttered. “that maybe... maybe this could be real.”

“jaehyun—”

“do you like him?” he interrupted, voice sharp now. “that guy. do you like him?”

you hesitated.

then nodded.

“yeah,” you said, voice soft but steady. “i think i do.”

he exhaled slowly, like he was trying not to explode. “right.”

you took a shaky breath, your own emotions catching up with you, fingers tightening around the hem of your dress. “maybe it’s better if we stop... whatever this is.”

his head snapped up.

“what?”

“i mean it,” you said. “you’re... you’re rough when we do it, jaehyun. even after i told you my breasts were sore, you still—” your voice cracked. “you kept touching them. like you didn’t listen. like you didn’t care.”

his face twisted in something between guilt and regret. “i didn’t mean to hurt you—i thought you liked it rough.”

“that doesn’t mean you can ignore me when i say something hurts,” you whispered.

he nodded, lips pressed into a line. “i’m sorry,” he said, stepping back. “i didn’t... i never wanted to make you feel like that.”

you stayed still as he grabbed his keys and water bottle from the table, slinging his gym bag over his shoulder.

“i’ve got training,” he said, not looking at you.

then, almost too fast to register, the door slammed shut behind him.

the echo of it left a hollow ache in your chest.

you stood there, alone in the quiet apartment, heart caught somewhere between anger and guilt. you hadn’t meant to hurt him, but the truth needed to be said.

still... it didn’t stop the sting that came with seeing him walk away like that.

and even though you’d been the one to draw the line, the silence he left behind wrapped around you like a second skin, suffocating in all the places he used to touch.

the gym was almost empty.

just the steady thump of fists against heavy bags and the distant hum of a playlist echoing through the padded walls. jaehyun stood alone in one of the back corners, shirt already soaked with sweat, jaw clenched so tightly his temples ached.

he'd been there for nearly an hour. hitting. dodging. repeating.

trying to erase the memory of your voice.

"you’re rough... even after i told you it hurt..."

the words played in loops in his head, louder than the music, louder than his own grunts as he threw punch after punch into the worn leather bag in front of him. his knuckles burned, taped up but raw underneath, wrists aching from the impact. but he didn’t stop.

"maybe it’s better if we stop."

he hit harder.

"you’re not listening."

harder.

"you don’t care."

his chest heaved with every breath, muscles tight, adrenaline pumping like poison in his veins.

"fuck," he growled under his breath, sweat dripping down his temple.

what the hell did you mean he didn’t care?

he did. too much, probably. that was the problem. he'd been trying so hard to show you, to express it in the only language he knew—touch, closeness, giving you his bed, making room for you in his world. but it hadn’t been enough. or maybe it had all been wrong.

and the worst part? he knew he wasn’t bad at this.

he’d never been the guy to leave girls unsatisfied. the girls he’d been with before? breathless, sore, obsessed. they texted him days later, months later, wanting more.

but you—you had made him feel like maybe none of that mattered.

maybe it wasn’t about the moves or the technique or how long he could make you scream.

maybe it was him.

his fists collided with the bag again, this time with a loud crack as one of the seams split slightly.

he didn’t even blink. just kept going.

“fuck,” he spat again, this time louder.

why wasn’t he enough?

why did it hurt so much to see you look at that other guy—sicheng—like he was art? like he was peace? like he was something soft and safe and deserving?

he hit again. again.

his mind raced.

did you think sicheng would be better in bed too?

gentler, sweeter, more “attentive”?

did you imagine him when you touched yourself now?

did you even think of jaehyun at all?

his vision blurred for a second, and before he could stop himself, he released a brutal, full-force punch with both hands—

CRACK.

the bag snapped off its chain and slammed into the floor with a dull, heavy thud.

jaehyun stood there, chest rising and falling rapidly, staring down at the busted bag like it was somehow your face, or maybe his own shame.

blood dripped from a busted knuckle. he didn’t feel it.

all he could hear was the echo of your voice, and the unbearable quiet that had come after you said goodbye.

the rain hadn’t stopped all evening.

you sat curled on the couch, blanket over your legs, scrolling aimlessly on your phone but not really seeing anything. you kept glancing at the window, hoping to hear the elevator ding, or footsteps in the hallway. nothing. just the sound of the storm, the wind howling against the glass, the relentless rhythm of the water beating down.

where is he?

you chewed on your lip, guilt twisting inside your stomach. he said he had training... but that was hours ago.

you hated that you still cared. hated that even after everything you said earlier, you were still worried. still thinking about him.

and then—click.

the front door creaked open.

your head snapped up. footsteps. wet ones.

you got up quickly, padding toward the small hallway, and then you heard it—a cough. rough and dry, followed by another one.

you peeked out.

there he was.

jaehyun stood in the entrance, completely drenched. soaked hair dripping over his forehead, shirt clinging to his body like second skin—completely see-through. every line of muscle beneath visible, his chest heaving slightly from the cold. his shorts were stuck to his thighs, sneakers squishing quietly against the tiles. he looked like a fucking painting. tragic. stunning. broken.

you inhaled sharply.

“you’re soaked,” you said, barely above a whisper.

he looked up at you, blinking water from his lashes. his eyes were tired. dark. unreadable.

you rushed to his room and grabbed the first towel you could find, returning quickly and holding it out for him.

he took it silently, rubbing at his hair with a few quick motions. droplets still clung to his jaw, his collarbones, sliding slowly down his neck, disappearing beneath the curve of his chest.

you stood there, frozen, watching him.

watching the muscles shift beneath his wet shirt as he patted himself dry. your eyes couldn’t help it—traveling from the hollow of his throat, down the sculpted lines of his torso, tracing the trail of water that disappeared into his waistband.

his gaze lifted suddenly, sharp and accusing.

why the fuck is she looking at me like that? like she wants to eat me alive... when she’s the one who ended it.

he didn’t say it. but you saw it. written all over his face.

your throat tightened. “oh— you should take a shower... before you catch a cold.”

his jaw ticked. he looked like he wanted to say something, but didn’t.

“yeah,” he muttered. and then, after drying his hands enough not to leave puddles, he walked past you, disappearing into the bathroom.

you stood there, heart racing, the scent of rain and sweat still lingering in the air.

later, when the water had stopped running and you heard his door creak open again, you knocked gently on the wall of his room.

he was sitting on his bed in loose shorts and a hoodie, towel around his neck, hair still damp.

“can we talk?” you asked.

he didn’t look at you, just nodded.

you sat down beside him. the silence stretched long.

“i’m going back the day after tomorrow,” you said softly. “they wrapped up the research earlier than expected.”

he nodded again. “that’s good.”

you felt the ache in your chest grow. heavy and stupid.

“i just wanted to say... thank you,” you continued, voice a little unsteady. “for letting me stay. for everything. i know things got complicated but... you didn’t have to be so generous. and still, you were.”

jaehyun looked at you then, something unreadable in his eyes.

“it was nothing,” he said. then after a pause, added, “i really did enjoy having you here.”

you blinked.

having you here.

did he mean sharing space? or sharing bodies? or something in between?

you didn’t ask. you couldn’t.

because suddenly, the idea of leaving felt like dragging a blade through your own chest.

but you smiled anyway. and nodded.

"me too..."

that night, the apartment was quiet—too quiet, except for the constant hum of the fan coming from the studio. It was the only sign that jaehyun was still there, locked away in that room like he wanted to disappear into the heat and noise.

you stood in the kitchen, stirring the last touches of the dinner you had prepared. the scent of garlic and herbs filled the air, but your appetite was gone. all you could think about was how everything was coming to an end. that in just two days, you’d be gone. back to your place. back to your normal life.

without him.

the thought squeezed your chest.

why did we let it end like this?

but maybe it was for the best. things were getting complicated… you were starting to feel something, and not just for jaehyun. sicheng’s soft smile haunted your thoughts more than it should. and it felt wrong. it felt like you were betraying someone, and you didn’t even know who anymore.

you walked toward the studio and gently knocked on the door.

"jaehyun," you said softly. "dinner’s ready."

a moment passed before you heard his voice, rough but calm. "i’m not eating dinner. i’m cutting it three weeks before the tournament."

you frowned. "three weeks? that’s hardcore."

"it helps me stay in weight class," he answered. "and sharp."

"you’re really impressive," you said honestly. "so disciplined… i don’t think i could sleep on an empty stomach."

you heard the lightest chuckle from inside. it made your lips curve, a warmth blooming in your chest.

"i was thinking," you added. "it’s getting really hot in there. why don’t you sleep in your room tonight?"

silence.

then his voice, slower this time: "i don’t want to make you uncomfortable. not after earlier."

"it doesn’t make me uncomfortable," you admitted, a little too fast. "what makes me feel worse is knowing you're locked in there, sweating your ass off just to keep distance from me."

more silence.

later that night, you watched him drag the extra mattress into the room. he didn’t say much. neither did you. he just placed it gently on the floor and started setting it up like it was the most normal thing in the world.

you crawled into your bed and faced the wall, but you could feel him there. his presence, his breath, his energy.

he was trying to give you space.

and it hurt.

was he doing this because you asked him to? or because he really didn’t want to be close anymore?

you closed your eyes, but sleep didn’t come.

not with your body still remembering the feel of his mouth.

not with your heart aching like this.

the room was still, humid with tension. jaehyun's mattress lay across from your bed, a quiet symbol of the space now between you. you could hear his breathing, steady and calm, and for a moment you wondered if he was already asleep.

you weren’t.

your skin was hot, your thoughts restless. every little thing about the day had only stirred the ache further. the weight of goodbye, the ghost of his mouth on yours, the memory of his body—

"jaehyun?" you whispered.

there was a pause. then, his voice, low and a little raspy: "yeah?"

you hesitated, fingers curling into the bedsheet. "can you… kiss me? just once more?"

a breath caught in his throat. "what?"

"just one last time," you whispered again, barely audible. “before i leave.”

he didn’t answer, not with words. you heard the rustle of his blanket, the shift of his weight. then he stood, walking across the room and sitting beside you. in the dark, you felt his hand brush your cheek. you leaned into it.

his kiss came soft, uncertain at first. lips barely moving. a farewell. a memory in the making.

then it deepened—sweet, aching, slow. his tongue gently parted your lips, as if savoring the moment. like he didn’t want to let it go. you moaned softly against his mouth, hands sliding up his shoulders, fingertips grazing the curve of his neck.

his hands followed the lines of your body, but he didn’t push—just held you, like he wanted to memorize how you felt under his fingertips.

you guided one of his hands downward, over your ribs, across your stomach, lower, until his palm was between your thighs, pressed over your heat.

he froze, breath stalling.

"you're wet," he whispered, stunned. his forehead touched yours. "can i kiss you there?"

your thighs shifted, your core pulsing beneath his touch. and even though the rational part of you screamed don’t, your lips whispered something else— "yes... please."

he didn’t hesitate. slowly, he slid down the bed, pushing the covers aside, placing soft kisses on your inner thighs as his hands gently separated them. your legs trembled as he settled between them, breath ghosting over your already soaked folds. you were burning. aching. breathless with anticipation.

"you’re so fucking sweet," he murmured, lips brushing just above your clit. "i’ll be gentle this time. promise."

his tongue met your heat like he’d been dying for this. slow, deliberate licks, tracing you open, savoring your taste like a man starved. his mouth wrapped around your clit and sucked softly, making your hips jerk against him, a gasp torn from your lips. you slapped a hand over your mouth to stay quiet—junhoe was still in the apartment—but your body refused to obey.

"baby..." he whispered, licking a stripe down your slit. "you said this was the last time... but how am i supposed to let go of this?"

you whimpered as his fingers joined the party, slipping two inside you with sinful precision. they moved in rhythm with his mouth, hitting that sweet spot over and over, your thighs shaking around his head.

you were going to come. embarrassingly fast. "fuck, j-jaehyun—" "i got you," he mumbled, voice deep and thick against your core. "just let go. i want to feel you fall apart for me one last time."

your body obeyed his words before your mind could catch up. the orgasm rolled over you like a wave—deep, warm, toe-curling. you bucked against his mouth, clenching around his fingers, moaning into the pillow to muffle your cries.

when you finally stilled, breath ragged, skin damp with sweat, he kissed your inner thigh again. gentle. reverent.

he crawled back up, resting beside you, lips swollen, eyes dark but soft.

you looked at him. flushed, breathless, wrecked by his mouth, and yet aching for more.

"that wasn’t just a kiss," you whispered.

"no," he said, brushing your hair off your face. "it was me showing you that i fucking meant it. all of it."

the next day, you were in class, sitting beside sicheng. the room smelled like linseed oil and graphite, the mellow scent of the arts building you’d come to love. your hands moved across the canvas, sketching lines with soft, deliberate strokes—though your mind was far from focused.

he leaned over you, reaching for a box of charcoals, and your hands brushed. just a moment. just fingertips. but it sent a shiver up your spine. later, as you both reached for the same jar of solvent, your elbows bumped, and you felt his warm breath near your cheek. again, it seemed like a coincidence, but every little contact made your stomach tighten.

you tried to concentrate, to breathe through the rising heat in your chest, but your thoughts kept pulling you back to last night. to Jaehyun. to the weight of his body. the sound of his voice when he was between your thighs. the way your name left his lips like a prayer and a plea.

you hadn’t even realized you’d been staring into nothing until sicheng turned slightly, studying your expression.

"you're distracted," he said softly, his voice like silk. “you’ve redrawn the same line five times.”

you gave a small, dry laugh and shook your head. “i guess i’m just… tired.”

he tilted his head, that same calm, unreadable smile dancing on his lips. “that’s not the look of someone who’s just tired. that’s the look of someone who keeps thinking about someone else.”

your heart skipped. his gaze was gentle, but piercing. he saw right through you.

you lowered your head, hiding the flush that rose to your cheeks. “i don’t want to talk about it,” you whispered with a sad smile.

he didn’t push. he just nodded. “okay,” he said simply. “but you should come tomorrow night. the dance club has a small showcase. nothing formal. just movement and music. might help you get out of your head for a while.”

you nodded slowly. he lifted a hand and gently placed it on your forehead, checking your temperature.

“no fever,” he murmured. “but something’s definitely burning in there.”

you almost melted from that touch, so full of care. that was sicheng—soft-spoken, graceful, thoughtful. so different from jaehyun, whose touch burned like wildfire and left you gasping.

sicheng’s energy was gentle rain.

jaehyun’s was summer lightning.

when you got back to the apartment, the day had started to fade. you were packing up your things—your sketchbooks, your clothes, the small souvenirs you’d collected during your stay. junhoe was outside, laughing with his girlfriend. jaehyun was still at training. he had warned you it would be intense this week, but told you to call him if you needed anything.

even after everything, he was still… good to you.

you ate alone. showered. and the silence of the apartment began to settle in your bones. it wasn’t just the heat that made your skin feel flushed—it was something deeper. more primal. your thighs rubbed together with a soft friction as you walked around your room, and the sensation only made things worse.

lying in bed, your mind betrayed you. you thought of his voice, his mouth, his hands on you. the way he’d whispered your name while he kissed down your body.

you shouldn't. you shouldn't. but your body ached. your fingers slipped under your shorts, brushing over sensitive skin. your breath caught. then deepened.

you moaned softly, barely biting down the sound. "jaehyun..." you whimpered his name like a secret, hips twitching, your core wet and throbbing from the memory.

you were too far gone to hear the knock at the door. too caught in the heat building between your thighs to register the voice on the other side.

“y/n?” jaehyun’s voice came again, more firm. “i’m coming in.”

you didn’t hear him.

so he opened the door.

and froze.

you were sprawled on the bed, your body arched, your fingers deep inside, glistening with your own need. you were panting, whispering his name in broken sighs, eyes shut tight.

his jaw clenched. his chest rose and fell rapidly as he stood there, rain still dripping from his hair. he hadn't even changed out of his workout clothes yet.

you opened your eyes.

and saw him.

the heat rushed to your face, but your body didn’t stop. not yet.

he stared at you like he couldn’t breathe.

you licked your lips, chest heaving.

“close the door,” you said softly, voice trembling, not from shame—but from desire.

jaehyun stood frozen for a heartbeat, rainwater dripping from his hair onto his shoulders, again, dark patches spreading across his shirt where sweat met humidity. his eyes devoured you—spread open, soaked with need, your fingers still buried in your pussy, slick and glistening under the dim light of your bedside lamp.

he moved.

the door clicked shut behind him.

you watched the muscles in his arms flex as his hand remained on the knob for just a second longer, as if trying to convince himself to stay on that side of the threshold. but it was too late. he had already seen you. already heard the way you moaned his name like a hunger. there was no turning back now.

he took one step, then another, until he was standing at the edge of the bed.

your fingers stilled, but didn’t leave your core. you kept your eyes on him, testing him. daring him.

“i couldn’t stop thinking about you,” you whispered, throat dry. “about your mouth... your hands…”

his breath hitched.

then, as if that snapped the leash he’d been holding all day, he moved. fast.

he dropped to his knees at the edge of the bed, his large hands sliding under your thighs, pulling you to the edge like you weighed nothing. his eyes locked with yours—dark, intense, but still seeking permission.

you nodded.

“say it,” he rasped, his lips barely touching the inside of your thigh. “tell me i can taste you.”

“please,” you breathed. “i need your mouth on me… now.”

he groaned like a starving man given his first taste, and then he was on you.

his tongue swept over your folds in one slow, deliberate lick that made your entire body shudder. his grip on your thighs tightened, spreading you further, anchoring you against the mattress. he licked you again, then again, teasing the edges of your clit before finally sucking it between his lips and giving it the attention you were dying for.

you cried out, your back arching, one hand flying to his hair, gripping it as you rolled your hips into his face. he moaned against you, the vibration shooting up your spine like lightning.

“f-fuck, jae,” you gasped, legs already trembling.

he hummed in response, pulling you closer, burying his face deeper between your thighs. his tongue flicked, circled, then flattened against your clit in slow, rhythmic pressure that made your stomach twist in the best way.

and then—one finger slid inside you. then another.

you clenched around him with a moan that echoed off the walls.

he fucked you with his fingers as his tongue worked your clit like he knew every nerve ending in your body. it was too much. it wasn’t enough. your moans got louder, needier, your hips grinding into his mouth.

you were so close.

“i’m gonna—jaehyun, i—!”

he sucked hard, curling his fingers just right—

and you shattered.

your thighs clamped around his head, your scream muffled by your own palm as your orgasm tore through you like a wave crashing, your body convulsing in pleasure as you rode his mouth, unable to stop the way you trembled.

he held you through it, slow and patient, licking you gently, easing you down with soft kisses and slow fingers until your body finally collapsed against the bed, boneless and buzzing.

when he finally pulled back, his mouth was glistening with you. his chest rose and fell in heavy breaths, his eyes dark and wild.

and then, he leaned up and whispered against your lips—

“your turn to taste me.”

the next morning came quicker than you'd hoped. the sun barely kissed the windows when you were already up, heart still aching with confusion, with memories—tender and hot—that clung to your skin like ghostly hands. you got dressed in something simple, but lovely. not for anyone in particular, or so you told yourself… but deep down, you knew better. for him. maybe.

the chinese classical dance showcase was held in the university’s small theater, adorned with flowing red curtains and warm lighting that gave the place a soft, enchanted glow. there was a hush in the room as people took their seats, the air filled with anticipation and the faint notes of traditional instruments.

and then, when the lights dimmed and the curtain pulled open—he appeared.

sicheng.

draped in silk that flowed with every precise, delicate movement, his presence on stage was otherworldly. ethereal. like he didn’t belong to the same world as the rest of you. he moved with an elegance that stole your breath—arms extended in slow, sinuous arcs, his fingers painting invisible poems in the air. each leap, each spin, was poetry, full of grace and intention. time bent around him. for the minutes he danced, there was no past, no tomorrow. only him.

you were spellbound. your chest tightened with something sweet and dangerous. why does he have this effect on me?

sicheng twirled in the air as if he were defying gravity itself, his silhouette floating with a grace that felt unreal. his hair moved with the rhythm of his body, the folds of his costume danced like soft waves around him. every muscle seemed to flow with pure, clean, almost sacred intention.

your eyes followed him in a trance... but then, a blink—and the image of his body was replaced by another. more solid. more earthly. more raw...

the room was silent, save for the ragged breathing between you. the light was dim, just a small lamp casting a warm glow over the sheets. jaehyun had you pinned against them, his hair still damp, his eyes lit up. he had just made you come with his mouth, his tongue. and now... now he was looking at you with a wicked grin, a drop of sweat trailing down his temple.

“now it’s your turn to taste me,” he said in a low, husky voice, his fingers brushing your cheeks before guiding your face down.

you settled between his legs and took him into your mouth, savoring the heat and weight of his erection, feeling his body tighten with every move of your lips. your fingers traced along his thighs as you let him slide deeper, eager, hungry. he moaned your name, one hand tangled in your hair, the other caressing your neck, your shoulder... his hips trembling beneath your attention.

when he finally came in your mouth, you swallowed it all, never breaking eye contact, as if that moment was a statement. of desire. of surrender. of something you weren't sure was just sex anymore.

a sudden wave of applause jolted you back to the present.

the lights on the stage had changed. sicheng was now bowing, his chest rising and falling gently as he caught his breath, his lips parted in a serene smile. his fellow dancers joined him, their elegant costumes glowing under the soft stage lights, but you couldn’t focus on anyone else. just him. the way a drop of sweat trailed along his jawline, how the fabric of his outfit clung to his body in all the right places. ethereal, beautiful, almost not real.

your cheeks were burning. not just from the warmth of the theater.

you’d just spent the last few minutes with your mind between jaehyun’s thighs.

clapping like the rest, you tried to mask your daze, but your pulse was racing. your lips tingled with memory. and yet… your eyes were on sicheng, on his grace, his soft composure, the quiet elegance that contrasted everything about last night.

he caught your gaze then—just for a second. he smiled. gentle. curious. and maybe, just maybe, a little bashful.

your hands shook a little as you held the floral arrangement you brought of white lilies and soft lavender stems, carefully wrapped in pale gold paper. you hadn't planned to bring flowers. it had been a sudden impulse at a corner stand on your way to the venue. but now, looking at his glowing face and flushed cheeks, it felt like the right choice, not until you saw him step off the stage, cheeks flushed from the exertion, his hair slightly damp with sweat.

you approached, heart hammering, and when you handed him the bouquet, his eyes widened. “for me?” he asked softly, voice like velvet.

you nodded, suddenly shy. “you were… incredible.”

a faint pink spread across his cheeks. around him, a few of his dance friends whistled and nudged each other, muttering playful comments under their breath.

“damn, sicheng. didn’t know you had a secret admirer.”

“who’s this pretty girl, huh?”

he smiled awkwardly and turned to you. “don’t listen to them,” he said quietly, taking the flowers with both hands like they were something fragile. precious. “but… thank you. really.”

you smiled back, heart fluttering wildly. you didn’t know what any of this meant yet. but you knew one thing: for those minutes watching him dance, the only person in your mind was him.

or maybe not...

his friends were still teasing him behind their hands, but in that moment, it felt like you and him were in your own little world.

a quiet pause stretched between you.

then—

“want to go for a walk?” he asked softly. “i still feel like i’m floating. and maybe i need help grounding myself.”

you smiled, heart stuttering in your chest.

“yeah… i think i need that too.”

sicheng walked up to you with his face softly lit by the park’s lanterns, the same ones now catching on the edges of the petals he held between his fingers—the small bouquet you'd given him after the performance. his steps were slow, careful, as if he didn’t want to disturb the fragile stillness between you.

"thanks for coming," he said, his voice quiet, almost like a breath.

you nodded, still caught in the afterglow of watching him move on stage. the way his body floated, controlled yet weightless, like he wasn’t bound by the rules of gravity. you hadn’t expected it to affect you like this. but it had. deeply.

"it was beautiful, sicheng… really. i couldn’t take my eyes off you," you said, almost absentmindedly. your fingers fidgeted with the sleeve of your coat, as if trying to hold on to something more solid than your drifting emotions.

he smiled, just slightly, but didn’t look away.

"you were like a feather in the wind… so light. So fluid. i didn’t know you could move like that."

you kept talking, caught in the spell of the moment. and then, before you realized it, the words slipped out.

"that's why I liked you so much…"

silence.

sicheng blinked, tilting his head like he wasn’t sure he’d heard you right.

"you liked me?"

your breath hitched, panic fluttering in your chest. "i—i mean… i used to. in the past. it was just a little crush," you rushed, trying to backtrack. "it doesn’t matter anymore."

sicheng watched you carefully, his expression unreadable. "so… do you still like me?"

you hesitated. "no!" you said too quickly, too sharply. then softer, almost afraid of the weight your own voice carried. "no..."

but his eyes stayed on yours, gentle but questioning. you sighed.

"maybe. i mean, a little. i think… the feelings are coming back. but i know you don’t feel the same way, and that’s okay. you don’t have to worry or feel pressured or anything like that, sicheng. i just hope this doesn’t change anything between us. i'd hate to make you uncomfortable. and if you want me to stay away, i will. just… please, don’t be upset."

you looked down, cheeks burning, heart pounding in your ears. you’d said too much, or maybe not enough. you couldn’t tell.

sicheng stood there for a moment, as if processing your words. the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze was the only sound between you, a small, peaceful distance that felt so wide in the silence. he stepped a little closer, his eyes soft but intense, and then he spoke, his voice steady and calm, but there was a hint of vulnerability in it.

"don’t worry," he said with a gentle smile, his hand reaching out to lightly touch your arm, offering comfort. "i won’t be upset. i’m not going to ask you to stay away. i'm your friend, and that won’t change because of this."

He paused for a beat, looking at you as if searching for something in your eyes, something more than just the words you’d said. He wanted to make sure you were okay.

"but…" he continued, his voice dropping a bit, "i can't pretend i don't care about you. i think i always have, even if i never said it before. it’s just… it’s complicated now, and i don’t want you to feel pressured either. so, let’s just take it slow, okay? we don’t need to rush anything."

sicheng's expression softened even further, and for a moment, it was like the world around you two disappeared. his smile wasn’t just comforting, it was full of understanding.

you were standing so close to him now, your heart beating loudly in your chest. the air between you was thick with unspoken words, with tension you couldn’t ignore. you hesitated, staring into his eyes, wondering if you were truly ready for what you were about to ask.

“now that you know… can you do me a favor?” the words came out quieter than you intended, the weight of them settling heavily in the air.

sicheng blinked, his eyes narrowing in thought as he processed your request. “a favor? what do you mean?”

your gaze flickered away from his, your voice catching in your throat. you weren’t sure if you could bring yourself to say it aloud. but the urge was too strong, the need inside of you too overwhelming. you exhaled slowly, almost in defeat.

“can i kiss you?”

his eyes widened, the shock registering in the brief silence that followed. for a moment, it felt like the world had stopped. his breath caught in his throat, and you saw the uncertainty flicker across his features.

“you want to... kiss me?” he asked, his voice almost a whisper, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

you nodded, barely able to meet his gaze. "yes... i just... i need to know. i need to know how it feels, how your lips taste. it's... it's been eating at me, this feeling. maybe... maybe it’s just to push this feeling away. i don’t know."

he stood frozen for a moment, his expression a mix of shock and something you couldn’t place. he looked at you for a long, lingering second, his eyes searching yours as if to see if you were being serious. then, he seemed to shake himself from the stupor and scratched the back of his neck, nervous and unsure.

“i… i didn’t think you’d say that,” he muttered, voice a little rough, the words tangled in his throat.

he lowered his gaze for a brief moment, his hand nervously brushing his cheek. “i’m not sure what to think. but…” he trailed off, and when he met your eyes again, there was something unreadable in his gaze. “okay. but… make it quick.”

you felt your heart beat faster at his words, the rush of anticipation and fear flooding through you. you didn’t know if you were making the right choice, but the craving was too strong, and there was no turning back now.

you took a step forward, the movement slow, deliberate. you could feel the tension in your own body, the nervous energy that seemed to hum through the air. his body was stiff, unsure, but he didn’t pull away. he waited.

with shaky hands, you placed them on his shoulders, feeling his muscles tense under your touch. his breath hitched, and you swore you could hear the thumping of your own heart. you leaned in slowly, your lips brushing against his for a split second. It was a soft, tentative touch, like testing the waters. But the moment your lips met, something shifted.

the kiss wasn’t just a kiss. it was a question. it was an answer. you were both asking for something, craving something that neither of you could fully understand.

you pulled back slightly, looking into his eyes, searching for any hint of what he was feeling. but before you could even process his reaction, he leaned in again, his lips meeting yours with more urgency this time. his hand moved to your back, pulling you closer. the kiss deepened, and everything around you seemed to blur, the world fading away except for the heat between you two.

the kiss was no longer short, no longer just a way to silence the burning question. it was desperate, as if you both needed more, as if this was something that had been building for so long that it couldn’t be contained any longer. his hands roamed up your back, fingers digging into your skin, pulling you even closer. you felt the heat rise in you, the growing need to touch, to feel, to be lost in him.

his lips moved against yours with a purpose, his body pressing into yours as if there was no room for anything but the two of you. the kiss continued, each second stretching into eternity, each touch, each brush of skin against skin, sending sparks through your body.

but then, reality hit. you pulled back, gasping for air, your chest rising and falling rapidly. his breathing was heavy as well, his eyes wide, lips still tingling from the kiss. you couldn’t stop the rush of emotions flooding through you—desire, confusion, fear.

“i… i shouldn’t have done that,” you whispered, your voice shaky.

sicheng didn’t say anything immediately. he looked at you, his expression unreadable, like he was trying to piece together everything that had just happened. the silence stretched on, heavy between you. his hand brushed over his mouth, as if he were still feeling the sensation of your lips on his.

you couldn’t look him in the eye, the weight of your actions crashing down on you. the tension between you was unbearable now, and you didn’t know what would come next.

then, in the distance, you heard footsteps. jaehyun. he had finished his workout and was walking out of the gym, just as you and sicheng stood frozen in the aftermath of what had just transpired. jaehyun’s eyes caught yours and sicheng’s, and in that moment, you saw the flash of recognition in his gaze. he froze in place, staring at you both, the confusion and pain clear on his face.

his chest tightened as he processed the sight before him, and in an instant, something inside him seemed to break. all the thoughts, all the moments he had imagined between the two of you seemed to shatter. it was like a cruel slap to the face, reality crashing down on him, and he turned away, the pain settling into his chest, knowing that everything had just changed.

the sound of your footsteps felt heavier than they should have as they echoed through the empty apartment. you were packing your things, moving with mechanical precision, but your mind couldn’t escape the haunting image of last night. the kiss. sicheng. his hands. your heart pounding in your chest like it might explode.

everything about it was vivid. the heat of his body, the intensity in his eyes, the way he touched you... and now, as you stood there, surrounded by your things, you felt lost. something inside you had snapped, and you couldn’t figure out why. you didn’t understand what you had just done.

you had run. you hadn’t even thought about it. you ran from sicheng, from the confusion, from the storm of emotions swirling inside you. you ignored his calls, not because you didn’t care, but because you couldn’t explain something you didn’t even understand yourself. you felt terrible—empty.

you paused, feeling your body shake, your hands trembling. you bent over slightly, resting your hands on your knees, trying to steady yourself. the nausea in your stomach was unbearable, like it was rising from deep within you. it wasn’t the kiss, it wasn’t what had happened between you and sicheng—it was something deeper. something didn’t feel right. It felt wrong. simply wrong.

and then you remembered. the night before. the night you had been with jaehyun. you had been in his arms, lost in him, and it had felt real. sincere. everything about it had been intense, wild, and raw. but now, with sicheng, you felt nothing but emptiness. a hollow sensation that gnawed at you from the inside. why didn’t you feel the same way with jaehyun? why did everything feel so deliriously good with him? why had it felt like it was right, like you belonged there? now, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you had just made a mistake.

you sank down onto the floor, your back against the wall, and buried your face in your hands. the dizziness didn’t fade. the weight of your thoughts was suffocating. you needed to breathe. you needed to calm down.

but how could you calm down when you didn’t know what you were feeling? you had been with jaehyun—everything had felt so right with him, so raw and real. and now… now it all seemed confusing. you had never felt this conflicted before.

you didn’t know if you could trust your feelings anymore.

and then you heard it—the silence, the absence of his presence. jaehyun. he hadn’t come home. you hadn’t heard from him all day. no messages. no calls. nothing.

he had left first. and you hadn’t even had the chance to reach him. you had tried, but it was impossible. the way he looked at you—the hurt in his eyes, the disappointment. you could feel it still. he had seen you, had seen the two of you together, and something in his expression had shattered. he didn’t want to see you anymore. not after what you’d done.

your stomach churned again. the truth was that you didn’t want to be in this mess, but here you were, trapped in a web of confusion, unable to untangle the feelings inside you.

you couldn’t go back. you couldn’t change what had happened with jaehyun or with sicheng.

and yet, here you were. lost in the aftermath.

jaehyun’s footsteps were heavy as he walked down the darkened streets, each step taking him farther from the image that had been seared into his mind. he had tried to push it away, tried to shake off the sting of seeing you and sicheng together, but the moment kept replaying in his head.

he hadn’t returned to the apartment. no, he couldn’t. not after what he had seen. not after the raw, aching pain that twisted in his chest when he saw you, your lips pressed against his. the image of sicheng’s hands on your body, his lips moving with yours, had made his stomach churn with a mix of anger and hurt. he hadn’t expected it—he hadn’t prepared for the jealousy that hit him like a punch to the gut.

his thoughts were scattered as he wandered aimlessly. he ended up at taeyong’s place, needing a distraction, anything to stop the storm of emotions that had overtaken him. he let himself in, muttering a brief greeting before collapsing on the couch. taeyong was there, of course, with a drink in hand, silently observing him. jaehyun didn’t speak at first, just grabbed the glass taeyong offered him and took a long sip, feeling the burn of alcohol slide down his throat. it was the only thing that seemed to calm the fire inside him.

“you look like you’ve seen a ghost,” taeyong remarked, his voice laced with concern.

jaehyun let out a bitter laugh. "no, it's worse. i saw something i wasn’t supposed to see."

taeyong raised an eyebrow but didn’t push him further. jaehyun didn’t need to explain. taeyong always understood. he leaned back into the couch, his mind replaying the scene—your face, the way you kissed sicheng, like you belonged to him. jaehyun felt a tightness in his chest. he didn’t know why it hurt so much. he wasn’t even sure where he stood with you anymore. you had been so distant recently, and yet, seeing you with him, it felt like a betrayal.

it wasn’t that he hadn’t seen this coming—he had. he just hadn’t expected it to hit him this hard. and now, every drink he took seemed to make him forget for a moment, but the feeling always returned. the hurt. the confusion. the jealousy.

jaehyun’s fingers tightened around the glass, his mind swirling with thoughts of you. why didn’t you tell me? his chest ached, but he didn’t want to confront you—not yet. he wasn’t ready to face whatever was happening between you two.

he didn’t know if he was angry, heartbroken, or just lost. all he knew was that he couldn’t shake the image of you and sicheng together, and it felt like something inside him had snapped.

“damn it,” jaehyun muttered under his breath, taking another sip, his gaze distant.

the days passed slowly, like honey sliding down glass—thick, heavy, and impossible to stop.

you left the apartment the very next morning. you didn’t wait for jaehyun to return. maybe you were too ashamed. or maybe… you were afraid of what his silence truly meant. returning to your own place felt like stepping backward into a version of yourself you had outgrown. everything was still the same, but everything felt different.

unpacking was painful. every folded shirt, every book you placed back on the shelf carried the weight of disappointment. guilt clung to you like damp clothes. you had betrayed something you hadn’t even fully understood yet. something tender. something real. something that had bloomed quietly between you and jaehyun… and now was ruined.

yes, you were the one who ended it. you had been the one to say "we shouldn't" back when things got too deep. you told him not to catch feelings. and still—you had let him back in the same way he’d always slipped through the cracks in your walls. and now, after everything, there was nothing.

no calls.

no texts.

no late-night knocks on your door.

even though he knew exactly where you lived.

nothing.

you cried for the first few days. not because he hadn’t come, but because you didn’t know what you wanted him to do anymore. you were angry with yourself—for wanting him despite it all. for needing his arms when you had no right to ask for them. sicheng had kept his distance too. and you? you let him. maybe that was for the best.

your friends tried to distract you—girls’ nights, coffee dates, random gossip and karaoke—but they didn’t know. not really. they assumed you had fallen for sicheng again, that he’d rejected you for good this time. and you didn’t correct them. it wasn’t entirely a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either.

two weeks passed. fourteen days without a word from him. and you were slowly starting to accept it.

until—

it was a thursday afternoon when your paths finally crossed again.

you were at the university gym, dropping off some flyers for the art department's spring showcase. you weren’t expecting to see anyone. especially not him.

but there he was.

inside the training room, under the harsh fluorescent lights, gloves on, sweat clinging to his shirt. jaehyun. focused. sharp. fierce. every punch he threw looked like it carried a piece of the storm inside him. his coach barked something, and jaehyun adjusted his stance, but his movements were tight. frustrated.

you froze outside the glass doors, unsure if you should move or melt into the floor. but then he noticed you.

his eyes caught yours.

and for a moment, everything stopped.

he didn’t look angry. he didn’t look cold. he looked tired.

he stepped out of the ring, pulled off his gloves, and walked toward you slowly, wiping his face with a towel. you swallowed, nerves curling in your stomach like fists.

“hey,” you said, your voice barely audible.

he didn’t answer right away. Just stood there, chest rising and falling, eyes scanning you like he didn’t know whether to breathe you in or let you go again.

“i wasn’t sure i’d ever see you again,” he finally said, his voice low.

“i didn’t think you’d want to,” you replied. you bit your lip. “you didn’t come. or call. i thought that was your answer.”

he looked down, exhaled slowly, then met your gaze again. “i couldn’t.”

his voice cracked just a little. “i tried... every day. but i couldn’t look at you and not remember…”

you stepped forward, just slightly. “I know, i know it was... awful.”

“no,” he interrupted. “you don’t understand. i didn’t stay away because i hate you. i stayed away because i didn’t know how to stop wanting you even after everything.”

silence stretched between you. the hallway suddenly felt too quiet.

“i ruined it,” you whispered.

jaehyun shook his head. “maybe. maybe not.”

another pause.

“i have a fight in three days,” he added, softer. “it’s my biggest match yet. national-level. i’ve been training harder than ever. but… it hasn’t helped.”

you frowned. “why?”

“because you’re still here,” he said, placing his hand over his chest. “and i can’t punch that away.”

tears pricked your eyes, and your breath caught in your throat.

“i’m not asking for anything,” you said quietly. “i just… i missed you.”

his gaze softened. “me too.”

then, slowly, he reached for your hand, curling his fingers around yours like he wasn’t sure if this was a mistake. like touching you might hurt—but not touching you hurt more.

“you coming to watch me fight?” he asked, with the faintest of smirks. “or do i have to win without you in the crowd?”

you let out a soft laugh, choking on emotion. “i’ll be there.”

“good.” he gave your hand a gentle squeeze. “because i want to win with you watching. not for you. just… with you there.”

and for the first time in two weeks, your heart didn’t feel like it was splitting open. it just felt full.

the crowd was louder than you expected. people packed the stands, their voices rising in a chorus of cheers, whistles, and anxious calls. the atmosphere in the arena pulsed with energy, but all you could hear was your own heartbeat.

and jaehyun’s name being called.

you were sitting near the front, just behind his coach, surrounded by other athletes, trainers, and curious fans. the lights dimmed slightly as the announcer’s voice echoed across the arena.

“coming to the ring now… jung jaehyun!”

you stood without realizing, eyes wide as he stepped into the spotlight. his robe slid off his shoulders, revealing the toned body you already knew too well, but now wrapped in determination. his jaw was clenched, his eyes locked forward. he looked powerful, composed—like a storm waiting to be unleashed.

but when his eyes scanned the crowd…

he found you.

for a split second, his expression shifted. just a flicker of softness in the middle of all that steel. and that was just for you.

you felt it deep inside—something warm, something alive again.

the bell rang.

the first round started fast.

his opponent was no amateur—he moved with precision, like a shadow in motion. jaehyun didn’t hesitate. he dodged, countered, landed a jab. then another. you gripped the edge of your seat, body tense with every strike. he was holding his own. no—he was winning.

but then the second round came, and it got messier.

the other boxer caught him hard—right hook to the ribs, then a left jab to the cheek that made jaehyun stumble. gasps filled the room, and your heart dropped into your stomach.

he got back up.

you rose from your seat, whispering his name under your breath like a prayer. come on, jaehyun… come on.

and he did. like a man possessed.

round three was war. each punch carried purpose, rage, and focus. his muscles burned, but he didn’t stop. he pushed through the pain, through the exhaustion, through whatever was still bleeding inside him. because you were watching.

he could feel you watching.

in the final seconds of the round, he landed a brutal uppercut that knocked his opponent clean off his feet. the crowd erupted. the bell rang.

and he won.

you didn’t realize you were crying until someone nudged you, telling you it was over. that he’d done it.

but all you could think was—he’s going to look for me.

and he did.

still breathless, sweat clinging to him like a second skin, jaehyun left the ring and walked straight toward you. no interviews. no press. no team celebration.

just you.

he reached you in two long strides, grabbed your face with both hands, and kissed you so fiercely you forgot how to breathe. the world fell away. no one else mattered.

when he finally pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, he whispered:

“i needed you there. i fought better because of you.”

your voice cracked as you whispered back, “i’ve always been with you.”

and in that moment—under the lights, in front of everyone, after all the silence and all the mistakes—he smiled.

because no matter how broken it had felt…

you were here.

and maybe, just maybe, you were going to be okay.

cbeargyu💭 hey! i’ve been super active here today LMAO. this post feels kinda different from the stuff i’ve been writing lately bc fun fact this was actually the first fic i ever wrote for the platform. BUT i never posted it tho, it’s been sitting in my drafts since 2023 🫣 but i finally decided to upload it today!! it was supposed to be just a one-shot but it turned out way too long, so i’ll be posting part two soon once i go over it and organize it properly :D hope you enjoy it! it’s inspired by a manhwa i absolutely loved called peach sorbet 🩷 totally recommend it btw! <3

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zorange13 · 2 months ago

Text

—he’s such a loser, wtf? pjs

pairing. geek! park jay x afab poc popular! reader

content. acquaintances to lovers, jay is lowkey a loser but not, ft. popular athletes! hyung line, jay’s an asshole like fr, allusions to The Duff by Kody Keplinger (little me loved that book, i’ve read it twice. i still love it idc. don’t talk to me abt the movie tho…sigh), photographer geek! jay, journalism major! psych minor! reader, arson jokes, playfully questioning friend’s sexuality, making out

word count: 30,974 (25,591 in this part) ao3 ver.

synopsis: jay’s been hiding behind his cool, distant demeanor, never letting anyone get too close. when he crosses paths with you, a popular cheerleader, your unlikely connection sparks a series of misunderstandings, awkward encounters, and him trying—and failing—to navigate feelings he’s not used to confronting. With a secret mission to keep his distance while helping her, jay finds himself caught between his own stubbornness and the surprising depth of his feelings.

after well into writing this i realized that a lot of jay’s behaviors display signs of autism spectrum disorder. this was not intentional but if this does offend or put anyone off in any way PLEASE let me know!! (symptoms/signs such as: must follow certain routines, seeming blunt or rude without intention, taking things literally—as in—does not understand figures of speech or sarcasm, prefers to be alone, hyperfixations,) again, not intentional but i didn’t want to put this out without making it clear that i’m not ignorant to what i’m producing. i literally didn’t put this together until my close friend (who is autistic) told me that these were signs. she said this did not offend her, but obviously she doesn't speak for all! this isn't to offend anyone, if this does then please tell me. my dm's are always open for any reason!

Park Jay spent copious amounts of time reading, writing, and taking photos of his poor, unsuspecting classmates.

In a nutshell, Jay was simple. He woke up at 9:00, brushed his teeth, washed his face—no need for a morning shower; he always did that the night before. Then came 9:19, the daily wardrobe deliberation: black t-shirt or…black t-shirt. Oversized black jeans or oversized black sweatpants. Spray his favorite cologne at 9:28.

Eat exactly one cup of Raisin Bran and solve the day’s Wordle. Grab his keys at 9:50. Trudge out of the house and into his car by 9:51.

It was like rinse and repeat, to which none of this necessarily bothered him. Jay enjoyed routine, he loved the idea that he had full control over what had to be done. But a part of him longed for something different. For someone or something to disrespect the regimen that he’s so carefully mapped out.

—

He stood along his university’s track, camera in hand as he inspected the soccer field, trying to get the cheerleaders and other athletes into the frame.

His face is shoved tightly into the camera as he zooms in, eyes narrowing in concentration. The lens clicked repeatedly as he fell into the quiet rhythm of it. Letting himself fall into yet another routine of clicking, adjusting, clicking, adjusting.

It wasn’t even about the subjects, he honestly couldn't care any less about sports or whatever they were doing, just lining up for that perfect shot was more than enough for him to feel that high, that cathartic feeling of expression. He hated the arrogance that came with athletes, but a great artist puts themselves in uncomfortable positions to really show how great they are; wouldn’t you agree?

He takes a couple more shots before his focus drifts back to his camera lens as the team disperses. All of which they lift their shirts to wipe off the sweat that’s gotten in their eyes. Despite him not caring about any of them, he watched as his three idiot friends walked over to him. Laughing, still trying to maintain some sort of positivity after Coach Jeon screamed at them for the last hour and a half.

Sunghoon was the first to approach, his once very serious glare being replaced by a smirk as he relished in the freedom from Coach’s scrutiny. His shirt clung to his chiseled chest from sweat as a small towel hung over his shoulder, but despite these things that would very badly overstimulate someone like Jay, Hoon looked cool as a cucumber. “You still hiding behind that camera?” Sunghoon teased, wiping his forehead with the aforementioned towel. “Don’t you get bored?”

Jay didn’t even look up from his camera as he adjusted the exposure, “Nah, I’m hoping one day you idiots fall and I’ll have the documentation.” He muttered with little expression. “Besides, we can’t have amateurs taking flicks for the yearbook, right?”

Jake and Heeseung walked up next, still catching their breath from the intense scrimmage. Jake flashed Jay a smile, “You really gonna stand there while we’re slaving out here?”

Jay gave a shrug, the corners of his lips quirked up into something of a smile, imperceptibly so. “I’m working hard too, if you count not getting hit in the face with balls as work.”

Heeseung leaned back next to him, the heat radiating off of his body to Jay’s to which he grimaced. “Yeah I know, I took two to the chin last week.”

Before Jay could respond as the others—including him—laughed, a voice interrupted them.

“Are you really going to let these guys gang up on you like that?”

You stood right there as your voice cut through the banter with unexpected clarity. It was bright, strong, and that’s what made the four boys look at you. Standing a few feet away from them in your perky cheer uniform, that could cling to you the only way it knew how after a heavy practice. Sweat glistened from your forehead but your curly hair—that was raised in a pineapple updo, masked it, blending in so that it didn’t look too frizzy and shrink up. But even when you expected to look a mess, you didn’t. You commanded attention, not forcefully—it just happened naturally.

Jay’s gaze flicked up, the grip on his camera loosening, now his attention no longer on the athletes. He looked at you briefly, his stomach doing something way too familiar at this point whenever you were around.

The boys froze up for a second, but Sunghoon’s posture straightened up at the sight of this girl. “Hey Captain,” he smiled, a glint of amusement in his eyes.

You curtly bowed your head to greet them, but before you could speak further, Jake interjected, “We just got chewed up by our coach for 90 minutes straight, can we breathe?”

You laughed, “Yet you still found time to be annoying, very impressive, Jakey, very impressive.”

Jay’s ears perked up at the sound of your laugh, again the feeling in his heart and stomach a reminder of it. He held his camera close to his chest, almost protectively as he avoided looking at you; he had to remember who you were.

You are the captain of their university’s cheer team and in very close proximity to his friends. They ran in the same circle and somehow developed a kinship with you, alongside the other girls and guys on the cheer team during their years at the uni. It seemed to make sense for every one of them but Jay. You bantered with Sunghoon like you were siblings, always kept having to reject Jake, and even managed to coax a few words out of Heeseung every now and again who always seemed to be having some sort of girl problems. It was easy for you to be around them—just as much as it was for Jay; the pseudo-F4 had been friends since they were little kids.

However, the times you would try to interact with Jay, he would keep his responses very minimal. A smile, a curt nod, a wave whenever you see each other. Jay, from your interpretation, seemed very aloof and you didn’t take it personally. It made sense that his only three friends would be people that he was fully comfortable around.

Seeing as his friends doubled as athletes and socialites, Jay always felt like—for lack of a better word—a loser.

There was this book that he read (almost regretfully) in his freshman year of high school—The Duff. He knew that to be the ‘Designated Ugly Fat Friend’ he had to fully identify with it, though, he didn’t quite feel much of a relation to Bianca. She was self-deprecating, bitter, anxious, and impulsive.

Jay had some sort of confidence, he was slightly bitter, only mildly anxious, but was very calculated and attentive. He knew he wasn’t fat, damn sure knew he wasn’t ugly, but sure, he was the designated friend.

The friend that was the designated driver when Jake would be blacked out drunk at parties, all because Jay refused to compromise his liver and kidneys. The friend for whenever Heeseung had girl problems, he was the one to go to. The friend that Sunghoon always called to play Valorant because he knew that Jay was never that busy.

Jay was reliable, trustworthy, and in some ways he felt like he owed his friends. They were the ones that were there for him in the same way. The ones that saved him from that big, bad bully in kindergarten and they’ve been thick as thieves ever since. Not to be confused, he knew that his friends loved him equally. But Jay never had to confide in them because he never needed anything. Nothing exciting ever happened in his life for him to report back to his friends.

He enjoyed his space, being an only child, he spent most of his childhood playing alone. So when he found his friends—or better yet—when they found him, he never changed who he was or what his character consisted of. Jay’s social battery ran out very quickly; so more often than not he would find himself retreating to his apartment and putting his phone on ‘do not disturb.’

Jay liked the quiet moments in his life. The stillness of his apartment, the steady click of his camera, the hyperfixation on really niche topics, the way he could just fade into the background while observing the world through his lens—literally and figuratively. It gave him control—a way to participate in life without being directly in the spotlight.

But you had this uncanny ability to mess with that quiet.

It wasn’t intentional, of course. You didn’t burst into his life demanding attention or energy. You just...existed in a way that made it impossible for Jay to ignore you. Your laugh could cut through the fog of his thoughts, your voice had this cadence that somehow settled and unnerved him at the same time.

He hated that you made him feel exposed, like you could see through the layers of detachment he’d spent years perfecting. The way you tried to pull him into conversations when you clearly had no obligation to, or the times you’d catch him off guard with a teasing comment—those moments lingered, as much as he tried to brush them off.

And it wasn’t that he didn’t like you. That wasn’t the problem at all. If anything, it was the opposite. You were one of those rare people who managed to make everyone around you feel seen without even trying. It was easy to see why Sunghoon treated you like a sibling or why Jake always tried (and failed) to flirt with you.

But Jay? He didn’t know how to categorize what he felt. It wasn’t as simple as admiration or attraction. It was more complicated, more unsettling. You were an unpredictable variable in his otherwise orderly life, and Jay had no idea what to do with that.

So, he kept his distance, retreating to the safety of his camera and the comfort of his predictable friendships. It was easier that way.

At least, that’s what he told himself.

“Jay,” You called out, breaking him from his introspection, your tone teasing but not unkind. “You’re really gonna let these guys clown on you? Thought you had more fight in you.”

Jay looked up, the weight of your attention catching him off guard. He felt his grip on the camera tighten instinctively, as if it could shield him from whatever chaos you were about to unleash.

“Not much to fight about,” he replied, his voice steady but soft. “They’re just proving my point.”

“Which is?” You asked, tilting your head slightly, curiosity sincere.

“That I’m the only one here doing something useful.” His lips quirked up in a faint smirk, and Jake groaned dramatically in response.

“Useful?” Jake cut in, shaking his head. “Bro, taking pictures of me isn’t exactly saving lives.”

“Not everything’s about you, Jake,” Sunghoon quipped, earning a laugh from the rest.

“Right, right,” Jake said, rolling his eyes. “Guess Jay’s just here documenting Sunghoon’s tragic fall from grace.”

“Tragic?” Sunghoon shot back, mock-offended. “Please, I’m the star of his portfolio.”

“More like the blooper reel,” Jay muttered, earning a burst of laughter from those around him.

“Wait, why are you funny?” You admitted, your eyes crinkling at the corners as you covered your mouth to conceal your laughter. “Not you having jokes.”

He felt his face heat up at your attention but shrugged it off, glancing back down at his camera as if the settings had suddenly become the most fascinating thing in the world.

“Only when the material’s this easy,” he said, keeping his tone light.

“You’re full of surprises,” you said, and there was something in your voice—something playful but warm—that made Jay glance up again. He caught your eyes as he adjusted the silver-lined frames that adorned his face, the motion both habitual and telling. Your gaze lingered a moment longer than he expected, your expression unreadable but calm. Jay’s fingers froze briefly against the bridge of his glasses before he dropped his hand, clearing his throat softly.

“You wear those because you actually need them,” you asked, your tone light but genuinely curious, “or is it, like, a whole vibe thing?”

Jay blinked, caught off guard by the question. “Uh…both, I guess?” he replied, a touch of hesitation in his voice. He didn’t know why he said that, his vision was absolutely terrible.

“Cool,” you said simply, your lips curling into a small smile. “They suit you.”

He opened his mouth to respond but quickly decided against it, unsure of what to say to that. His heart did an embarrassing little leap at the compliment, though he managed to keep his expression neutral.

“Didn’t think you’d notice,” he finally said, his voice quieter now, almost like he was speaking more to himself than to you.

You raised a brow, leaning slightly forward as if to catch his words. “What, you think I’m not observant?”

“No, just…” He hesitated, his gaze dropping to his camera again. “Didn’t think it’d matter.”

You studied him for a beat, your smile softening. “Well, it does.”

And just like that, you straightened back up, your attention shifting seamlessly to the others, leaving Jay with the sudden and disarming realization that you were way more perceptive than he gave you credit for.

—

Jay walked into one of the university cafes at his usual time of 12PM right after his 10:30 experimental filmmaking class. As soon as he opened the door, the scent of coffee permeated his senses. Immediately waking him up from the haze that loomed over him from the 90 minutes of hearing information he already knew. Funnily enough, he hated coffee and refused to drink it because he didn’t want to trigger possible acid reflux or gastro-esophageal diseases.

He plopped down at one of the booths as he adjusted himself into the cushion of the seat. He then slid on his earbuds, the clinking of spoons and white noise fading to black. He swiftly pulled out his laptop to edit the photos that he snapped two days ago on the track. Jay’s fingers hovered over the trackpad as he scrolled through the photos. The soccer and cheerleading practices had been a goldmine for candids—athletes mid-sprint, beads of sweat dripping down their bodies and catching the sunlight, and the faint blur of the spectators in the background.

He loved capturing the things that felt alive even in the stillness.

As he adjusted the vibrancy on a particularly striking shot, Jay felt a faint presence nearby. Looking up, only to see the barista delivering a caramel latte to a nearby table. Shaking away his paranoia, he turned back to his work. The rhythm of editing was something easy for him to fall into, but for the first time that day, he felt the tension in his shoulders ease.

Through his peripheral vision, he saw a familiar figure open the door and head to the queue to wait to order. You.

As soon as his eyes laid on your figure, they retreated right back to his laptop; also slouching into the booth so you wouldn’t notice him. Again, it wasn’t that he didn’t like you. Jay just hated discomfort and somehow being around a girl like you, made him squirm and he wasn’t sure if it was a good thing. If the things he felt were anything other than happy, sad, angry, nervous, or scared then he wasn’t a fan. Despite how much the latter part of him yearned for excitement and to really feel, Jay just wanted to skirt by in life.

It was a weird mixture of wanting to be wanted, not having interest because he was afraid of rejection whether socially, or romantically even. He hated the way these insecure, almost unnerving things popped into his head when you were around.

He watched you walk in his general direction with a cold brew in hand and his heart skipped a little, he—again—further ducked into his seat and scooted more toward the window on his right side. But you sat at a nearby table in front of him which made him let out a quiet sigh of relief. How you didn’t notice him let him know that you didn’t have that irrational fear of seeing people you know in public (like him), or just had no sort of spatial awareness.

But then after a while, he started to hear the faint hum of your voice through his headphones. Which overstimulated him beyond belief. Like, hearing old, unreleased Frank Ocean on top of your voice made his head hurt and he didn’t know what to do about it. He wasn’t gonna tell you to shut the fuck up, because that would be mean.

Jay gets that he’s in a public setting but a part of him blames himself for not getting noise-cancelling headphones, his old ones from high school were not cutting it anymore.

Just the fact that he is so hyper-aware of your presence was the problem. The fact that you sat there sipping, almost aggressively (how tired were you?), on your coffee as you scrolled through some app. Smiling haphazardly at something you might’ve found funny or stupid. Then he sees that smile settle into dullness as you swipe across it to put the phone to your ear. “Hey,”

Your voice was soft, almost cutting through Jay’s mind like a knife. His fingers froze mid-edit on the same photo he was editing when you sat down—twenty minutes ago, so longer than usual.

He glanced up briefly, not wanting to seem obvious, but also unable to help himself. He paused his music as he watched you lean further into the table, absentmindedly stirring your cold brew. He saw the condensation gather around the plastic cup and leave a ring around the base of it. Your expression was almost unreadable as he wondered who you were speaking to.

Jay immediately regretted the thought. Why the fuck would he care who you were speaking to? It wasn’t his business and it wasn’t like you were aware of his inner turmoil.

“Yeah, I know,” you said as you sighed into the phone. “Mom, I’m trying. But this class is absolutely impossible! It’s like he says one thing, but he wants another thing. I don’t even know this is stupid.”

Jay blinked, trying to process what you said as his chest tightened for reasons he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Your tone was light, but there was a frustration beneath it as his fingers hovered over the trackpad, but he wasn’t editing anymore. Instead, he was hyper-focused on the way your voice wavered slightly as you vented, the way your hand stopped stirring the now watered down cold brew and was now waving around as you aired out your troubles.

“Yes, I’m asking for help, mom, it’s literally so embarrassing, I got a 40 on my last test.” you continued, your tone softening, though the exasperation lingered. “But it’s not like anyone’s lining up to explain set theory to me, you know?”

Jay’s lips twitched into a faint, involuntary smile. Your words were drenched in sarcasm, but there was something oddly endearing about the way you expressed yourself. Still, he shook his head to force his attention back to his laptop. ‘Just play your music and stop eavesdropping,’ he told himself.

But then again, how could he not? You were just sitting a few feet away from him and again, his headphones were not helping right now. So he quickly pulled out his phone to open his reminder app to buy some noise-cancelling headphones by the end of the week.

“Okay, okay,” you said, never sounding so deflated. “I’ll figure it o—” You stopped talking, being cut off by your mom who was lecturing you it seemed. “I know mom, your money won’t go to waste. Plus if I fail, I’ll ju–” Your voice dropped to a lower, more resigned tone. “No, I didn’t just say the F word,” you smiled solemnly.

“I have a class in 10 minutes, ma. I’ll call you later, okay? I love you.” You said, obviously lying just to stop the barrage of your mother’s words from ruining your day and stressing you out further. Then you go back to your phone as you bounce your leg up and down, trying some way to push the stress somewhere else.

While you’re busy doing this, Jay quickly takes one last glance at you. It’s not that he wants to draw attention, but there’s something about your restlessness, the frustration in your voice, that sticks with him. He could’ve just let it be, but he’d already clicked send.

—

Later on that day, you were seated at one of the tables in the corner in one of the school libraries. Your mind spinning with endless equations and concepts that you understood, but somehow, nothing ever stuck. Turning up the volume on your noise canceling headphones to hopefully drown out the damning thoughts, you didn’t realize how much time had passed until your phone lit up on the table, breaking your focus.

It was a message from the cheer group chat. Wasn’t important, ignore.

But you decided to scroll through your old notifications, just to see what you missed. However, your eyes caught one from three hours ago to your school email:

From: [email protected] at 12:33 PM

To: you

Your print job is ready for pickup at station 3.

You blinked at the message, a little confused. You hadn’t sent anything to print recently or at all, in your years at the school. All of your work was digital. But your curiosity tugged at you, pushing you to check anyway. You get up from your chair, leaving your laptop and tablet there for the taking, these rich kids don’t steal anyways, you thought.

Nonetheless, were you missing something? You pondered what you could’ve possibly sent to print, I mean, your Philosophy and Ethics essay was to be turned in digitally, as was most of the assignments in the school. I mean what loser would even handwrite notes these days?

When you arrived at station 3, there was a semi-thick stack of papers waiting for you. You leaned forward slightly as you grabbed the stapled bundle from the tray. As you flipped over the page with your name on it, you saw it was labeled in a familiar way—finite math.

But these were different from those stupid lecture slides…these were actually good. Detailed, thorough, and almost too clean, each concept broken down in ways that felt more digestible than your professor’s ramblings could ever be.

Lists of formulas, steps on how to do problems, keywords, examples, things to remember.

Oh, this loser had time.

You skimmed through them, and the more you read, the more you couldn’t help but feel a mix of admiration and confusion. Who had gone through the trouble of printing these out for you? Why?

And who—wait, the only person who knew about your math debacle was your mom. You don’t quite remember discussing this matter with anyone else but her because it was simply too embarrassing to admit to anyone that you were in danger of failing anything.

As you felt this pit in your stomach, you glanced around the library. Looking for any sign of who might have been listening but then again, you got here an hour ago. You last opened your mouth about this in the cafe and the email was from…you checked your phone again, noting the timestamp of 12:33 PM.

Around the time you were in the cafe.

No one was even looking at you in the library, everyone that was there resided at their little tables or cubicles with friends; trying to conceal hard laughs even though this was a quiet zone.

You made the trek back to your table. But as you did, your heart thumped a little harder in your chest, unsure of what to make of it. This was fucking weird.

Granted, the notes didn’t feel personal. It was like someone just meticulously planned it out just so they wouldn’t be confused. Fortunately, that was just enough for you to be glad. Anything would help at this point.

As you sat back down at your table, you further inspected the booklet for anything that might’ve been an indicator of…anything. You didn’t recognize the handwriting, no you knew wrote like this. The letters fit perfectly within the lines, almost robotic. The symbols being done perfectly as well, they must’ve tried a few times to get that right, so meticulous.

It was freaky.

But there was nothing to do at this point but use them. I mean someone, whether it be a stalker, eavesdropper, divine entity, who knows, gave them to you for a reason.

With that being said, you pulled out your tablet with your GoodNotes and got to studying.

You passed your next test with a 83.

—

The following weekend, you walked around the university football field as there was a kickback that you were invited to.

To this day, you don’t know why the Dean even put this much trust in your class to not drink on campus. The whole setup was a goldmine for rule-breaking: dim lighting, loud ass music (your heart ached for the residents), and ever-so-convenient lack of supervision. But really there was no point, y’all were adults and well beyond or just now of drinking age.

The field was alive with activity—groups of people were already laughing, life or death games of beer pong, even a few ambitious souls were already drunk. Nonetheless, the pumpkin spice candles were doing their best to smother the scent of alcohol.

At this moment, the friends you came here with were only mildly plastered and dealing with the varying drunk personalities on top of the loud music was entirely too overwhelming for your liking. You didn’t feel comfortable getting drunk at a college party and at most you’d get lightly buzzed. Tonight, you just weren’t in the mood for drinking but a little fun wouldn’t hurt.

The field was lit with warm orange and yellow lanterns as they were strung through and across trees, tables, and posts. Creating a cozy glow against the darkened sky, it looked like half the campus was there and fortunately, the cool weather permitted those to ease into a cute little hoodie and jeans, sweats, just comfy clothing in general.

As you scanned the premises, your eyes caught a lean figure at the edge of the bleachers toward the upper part of the field. Some were scattered around that area to socialize as it was a lot quieter, just to enjoy the music but not be crushed by the drunk and humongous athletes.

Nonetheless, you weren’t shy and knew that talking to said lean figure was a gamble but fuck it.

You squeezed through the tight bubble of inebriated adults and found yourself free and in the small, but secluded area.

Jay, however, had his back turned to the rest of the crowd as he swiped through his phone. As he bided his time in the least stimulating section of the field, he realized that he really could’ve been doing this at home. His heart was fluttering just thinking about it now. He could’ve been watching his shows and reading that book that’s currently annotated to death on his sofa. His plush, soft, gorgeous sofa. But no, he sat on the ice-cold, steel bleachers and his ass was numbing at the lack of warmth.

His friends dragged him out to this function so that he can hopefully feel motivated to talk to people and “get laid.”

Which just sounds idiotic because what did that even mean? Get laid? Lay where? He understood the implication, of course, but the phrasing always bothered him. It was crude. Unnecessary. And more than that—it simply didn’t apply to him. Jay wasn’t interested in the shallow pursuit of meaningless hookups. Many have tried, all have failed.

Regardless of what, he knew what they really brought him for. Jay didn’t drink, if it wasn’t water or apple juice he was not for it. So of course, having him as a designated driver was the safest thing for all of them to get home. He didn’t pull off until everyone had their seatbelts fastened and he always did just the speed limit.

Now that he was stuck, idling looking through his phone trying to find some sort of dopamine hit from a funny video. But then he feels a hand rest on his bicep to capture his attention; to which he was grateful, taps on the shoulder feel funny.

Then, he turned to see a little ole you, water bottle and curly hair in tow—sitting just above your collarbone. “Hey, loner,”

Jay stared at her for a beat as he shifted his phone to his other hand, then his back pocket. “Hi.”

You smiled, tilting your head. “Damn, just a ‘hi?’”

He blinked. “You greeted me, I acknowledged it.”

Clearly amused, you shook your head with a laugh before sitting next to him on the bleachers. Your body heat radiating off of you and onto him, which despite his better judgment he needed a lot more than he would tell you. “What are you even doing out here? I didn’t think this was your scene.”

He sipped the water bottle that he had been sipping since he sat down. At this point it was pretty empty, only one good sip left. “It’s not, my friends used me. DD.”

You nodded knowingly, “Mmm…sounds like them.”

Jay hummed in agreement, rolling the near-empty water bottle between his hands. He could hear the bass of whatever song was playing pounding from the speakers across the field, the occasional drunken cheer rising above it. The whole scene felt like something he was watching from the outside, never quite a part of.

You, however, leaned back, stretching your legs out in front of you like you had no problem settling in. “You know that you could’ve said no.”

He scoffed lightly. “Right. Because that would’ve stopped them.”

“True,” you admitted with a grin. “They can be kinda relentless.”

Jay didn’t respond, but something about the way you said kinda made him side-eye you. Like you didn’t mind the persistence. Like you even liked it. Liked that your friends were all over the place, you thrive on it.

You nudged his knee with yours. “How are classes?”

He sighed. “Fine.”

“How are the friends?”

“Fine.”

You squinted at him. “Are you okay?”

Jay narrowed his eyes. “Are you okay?”

At that, you burst out laughing, throwing your head back. “Oh my God,” you gasped between giggles, shaking your head. “Talking to you is so hard.”

Jay just watched you, his expression unreadable. He wasn’t sure why people kept saying that. He answered every question, didn’t he? It wasn’t his fault the questions weren’t interesting. You exhaled, shaking your head with a lingering smile before standing up. “Alright, well, have fun, Jay. I’ll see you around, yeah?”

Jay nodded once, but you were already walking off, disappearing back into the thick of the crowd.

He stared after you for a second longer than he meant to, then looked down to see the water bottle you left. Completely unopened and sealed left in the space that was between you. He sighed, cracking it open with a small click before downing his first sip.

—

The professor’s voice drifts in and out of focus as you stare at the half-filled page of notes on your laptop. Your mind keeps wandering back to the weekend, to Jay. You’re not sure what it was about the brief conversation you had with him—well, more like the awkward attempt at a conversation—but you can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to him than he lets on.

He’s so…different. Not in a bad way, just in a way you can’t quite put your finger on. And something about the way he responds, or rather, doesn’t respond, to the usual social cues keeps you intrigued. There’s a part of you that wonders if it’s your own curiosity that’s pushing you to know more, but then you think back to how he seemed almost...relieved when you left. Maybe you’re overthinking it, maybe not.

Jay was an enigma, something that you needed to get a grip on to understand. Everything about him was meticulous, not one detail too big, nor one too small. But a part of him almost seemed unnerving.

He was so conscious of everything that he did.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts when the professor announces the new assignment, his voice cutting through the murmur of students’ whispers.

“Write about someone you’re in proximity to but know absolutely nothing about,” he says, making eye contact with a few of the students in the back. “Find the story in someone you haven’t taken the time to understand yet. Write about what’s compelling, what’s mysterious—even if you know nothing about their life.”

A pause. Then, a slow smile creeps onto your face.

This is it.

You almost laugh out loud at the irony. You’ve been trying to figure Jay out for the past forever it seemed like, and now, here’s your chance to put it all to paper. It feels almost too perfect. Divine intervention, maybe? You tap the pen against your notebook, already imagining how you’d approach it. The awkwardness of your previous exchange, the layers to his personality you’ve yet to peel back. He’s not easy to read, but that’s exactly what makes him fascinating.

You’ll have to get closer, though. You don’t even know where to start with someone like him. Still, the challenge excites you. It’s almost like this assignment was meant to be. Jay, the one person who’s always on the edge of your thoughts.

You scampered out of class, in a way better mood than you were when you were in there. This had to be a dream, there’s no way that the universe just put this whole thing on a silver platter for you. Like this had to be a joke.

Wandering out of the liberal arts building, you texted the group chat that you had with Sunghoon, Jake, Jay, and Heeseung. You need to get a hold of at least one of them now.

you: wya?

heeseung <3 : dining hall, we just got here tho

jake <3: slide

you: bet

omw rn

—

“Please,”

“I said no.”

“Please, I swear I won’t be annoying. Like I promise—”

“You’re doing that right now.”

Of course begging this man—or any man—at 10 in the morning wasn’t on your vision board for the semester. But as you sat in this semi-densely packed dining hall, with three other eyes on you, you knew you had to pull this off so you didn’t look stupid. And you hated looking stupid.

“C’mon, Jay.” Heeseung said, grinning as he leaned back into his chair, enjoying the spectacle.

Jay, however, was unimpressed. He barely looked up from his bowl, methodically stirring the remnants of his cereal. “It’s weird,” he muttered.

You groaned, resisting the urge to dramatically collapse onto the table. “It’s not weird! It’s a journalism assignment. Please? I need this for my GPA, this would really help me as long as it’s something good.”

He chewed firmly on his raisin bran, exactly one cup as always. “Your grade point average has nothing to do with me and isn’t my responsibility.”

Jake let out a low whistle. “Ouch.”

You shot him a glare before turning back to Jay, determined not to let this go. “Okay, sure, technically it’s not your responsibility, but think of it as...a good deed. A community service moment.”

Jay shook his head, “You can literally pick anyone else, I cannot be that interesting.”

You smiled as you gestured to him, “That’s exactly what makes you interesting. Just think about it, the assignment is to write about someone I’m close to but know nothing about. I can tell you a whole thing about these fuckers—” You point to the other boys that surrounded you and him; your comment only elicited ‘boo’s’ and balled up napkins being thrown at your head; as expected. “But Jay, I’ve had your phone number, seen you at least 8 times a week for three years, we are in a group chat together. And yet, we’ve never had a conversation that lasted more—this is our longest conversation.” Your eyes bulged as you tried to get through to him. “You are my perfect subject.” You folded your hands together hopefully.

Jay exhaled through his nose, barely reacting to your dramatic plea. He didn’t look convinced, but he also hadn’t shut you down yet, which meant you still had a shot.

But as you sat there, hands folded as you pleaded with him to let him be your subject, he couldn’t help but actually feel bad for you. Funnily enough, he knew you needed this. He knew—given the math situation that you needed all of the help you could get. That at least if you failed math, maybe getting a good grade for this assignment could give you some wiggle room to not flunk and lose your cheer scholarship that you worked your ass off to get.

The look on your face reeked of desperation and a part of him found it funny, also partially attractive that you’re so willing to beg and plead your case as to how much you needed him. But he wouldn’t dare to say that aloud; he had some sort of couth.

But he felt that sickly, disgusting twisty feeling in his stomach at the way you looked at him, like you needed him. The way you said “my perfect subject.” Not just a perfect or the perfect subject. He was your perfect subject.

He hated the way he noticed the detail.

Even more so, he hated the way that the deepest, darkest part of him couldn’t let him say no to you.

“You’re making a weird argument,” he said flatly, stirring his cereal. “The fact that we don’t talk much should mean you don’t pick me.” He opened his mouth, for once—hesitating before speaking. To which you took notice and perked up in excitement, but covered your mouth with your conjoined hands. Afraid of putting him off even further.

Jay sighed, dragging his spoon through his cereal as if stalling. “If I say yes, you’re not gonna make this weird, right?”

You gasped, pressing a hand to your chest. “I would never make this weird.”

Sunghoon scoffed. “You’re literally making it weird right now.”

You shot him a quick glare before turning back to Jay. “I’ll be professional. Completely journalist mode. Objective, unbiased, purely academic.” You held up three fingers like a scout pledge. “You won’t even know I’m there.”

Jay arched his brow. “That’s actually worse.”

“Jay…” You half-whined, half-sighed with resignation.

Oh, and the way you said his name.

“Okay. I’ll do it.” He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling like he was signing his life away.

Your face lit up instantly, your hands slamming against the table in excitement. “Wait, for real?”

“What’s for real?” He looked, with furrowed brows.

The group—sans you—collectively let out a groan. You were too happy to judge him right now. “I mean, are you actually going to help me?”

“I said yes, didn’t I?”

That was more than enough for you.

—

You woke up with a little pep in your step, the sun was shining, birds chirping, and your skin was glowing. Fortunately enough for the sake of your assignment, your other professors gave you the week for your research and observation of Jay. Of course, when you came back you had to catch up but you had to take your wins while you could get them.

As you walked out of your dorm and embraced the crisp air, you put on your headphones to fully dive into the fall weather that you were having. You and Jay both agreed to meet at the cafe but you decided to show up a little earlier to set up your things and whatnot.

You entered the student run cafe and quietly greeted everyone behind the counter as you found a booth in a quiet corner; hopefully something that will make Jay comfortable, some privacy maybe.

Plopping down into the booth with a grunt, you gleefully pull out your laptop to open up a blank document for you to type on right beside one with questions that you’ve prepared. Then you dug in your bag for a folder with some other papers and set them on the table. Resting them on top of the folder as you were afraid of the table not being clean and staining the paper.

Luckily, Jay arrived at the exact time that you agreed upon. Which is just like him, never too early nor late but just on time. “Hello,” he said plainly as he sat down across from you.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Park.” You smiled, leaning your elbows on the table and resting your chin in your hands.

He furrowed his brow, “Since when do you speak to me this way?”

“Since I promised that I would maintain my professionalism to not make you uncomfortable.” You nodded affirmatively, “So if this is what it takes to make you feel as safe as possible then I’ll do what I can.”

Jay gave you a flat look, “That actually makes me more uncomfortable.”

You stifled a laugh, leaning back to neutral position. “Duly noted.”

Leaning back, Jay glanced down at the assortment of papers, your open laptop, and the neatly placed folder. “You’re really taking this seriously, huh?”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “I have to. It’s my grade, and you’re a particularly difficult subject.”

He tilted his head, “How so?”

Sighing, you cross your legs beneath the table. “You don’t talk. But that’s gonna change today.” You say bluntly, picking up a pen.

Jay sighed, shifting in his seat. “Alright, let’s get this over with.”

You sat up a little straighter. “Great. So before we start, let’s go over some ground rules.” You pushed the papers toward him. “I made a rough outline of what this project is going to look like—structured interviews, observational research, some candid moments here and there. Nothing too invasive, but I need you to be honest with me.”

Jay picked up the paper, skimming it with mild interest. “And if I refuse to answer something?”

You shrugged. “You can pass, but you have to give me something to work with.”

“Fine,” he muttered, setting the paper down. “What else?”

“I also want to set some boundaries,” you continued. “If there’s anything you don’t want me to write about or anything that makes you uncomfortable, let me know now so I can adjust.”

Jay tapped his fingers against the table, thinking. “Just…don’t make me sound stupid.”

You blinked at him. “That’s what you’re worried about?”

He shrugged. “Yeah.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Duly noted, again. But please do understand that embarrassing you is not the goal here.” You put your hand on the table, to convey your openness. “The product is really going to be a reflection of me as well and if you were to look stupid then so would I. If that gives you any consolation.”

Jay exhaled through his nose, seemingly satisfied. “Alright, journalist. Fire away.”

You grinned, fingers hovering over your keyboard. “Let’s start with something…a little challenging—”

He groaned, “Already?”

You held your hands up apologetically, “I’m sorry, this one is rough but I promise it’s not that bad.”

He nodded quietly with an—already—distressed sigh.

Looking into his eyes with a gentle smile you say, “What’s your name?”

Surprisingly that did get a little bit of a laugh out of him. Not a loud one, but a small baby laugh. The kind of laugh where he laughs through his nose and he looks down to avoid your crinkled eyes as you doubled over the table. “That was a terrible joke.”

“But it got you to loosen up, no?” You point at him, “Look! I made you smile! Point me!” You wiggle excitedly in your seat which almost made him quirk a smile.

“Whatever,” He mumbled.

The laughter died down and you repeated your question, “Okay no seriously, what’s your name?”

“Park Jongseong, or—as you call me by my English name, Jay.” He nodded affirmatively.

You typed it out, nodding along. “Jay…got it.”

He squinted at you. “You knew that already.”

“Yeah, but I’m trying to make this official,” you said, gesturing to your laptop. “Journalist mode, remember?”

Jay rolled his eyes but didn’t argue.

“Alright,” you continued, tapping your fingers against the keyboard. “Next question—where are you from?”

He leaned back against the booth. “Born in Seattle, raised in Korea.”

You tilted your head. “Do you feel more connected to one place over the other?”

Jay hesitated, his fingers twitching slightly before he crossed his arms. “I guess Korea, since I grew up there. But I don’t really think about it that much.”

You hummed, jotting that down. “Interesting. Alright, let’s do a rapid-fire round to warm you up.”

He eyed you warily. “Define ‘rapid-fire.’”

“Easy stuff,” you assured him. “Favorite color?”

“Purple.”

“Favorite food?”

“Anything that tastes good, but mainly meat dishes.”

“Biggest pet peeve?”

He didn’t even hesitate. “Too many.”

You snorted. “Noted. Dream job?”

Jay opened his mouth, then closed it. His jaw tightened slightly before he shrugged. “Still figuring that out. But when I was a kid I wanted to be a chef.”

You smile endearingly, “That’s so cute, any reason?”

He looks around, almost like he was searching for the answer in the nooks of his brain. “Not really, I love to cook. I love food. I love to eat. So I just thought it would be a fun thing to do. I always loved helping my mom in the kitchen and those memories are nice to hold onto.”

“So, sentimental and personal value?”

He nods, “Yeah, sort of.”

You nod as you rapidly type this into the document, just as you were filling in the last bit of notes he interrupts you. “What about you?”

Your fingers stunt at the question, not expecting for him to actually care, or even ask. “What about me?”

“What did you want to be as a kid?”

You frown, “Don’t laugh.”

“You’re not that funny so I guarantee that won’t happen.” He deadpanned.

You shoot him a glare, lips pressing into a flat line. “Wow. Thanks for that.”

Jay smirks, shrugging. “Just being honest.”

Rolling your eyes, you sigh. “Fine. When I was a kid, I wanted to be a mail carrier.”

The man tilts his head and as promised, does not laugh. “That’s stupid.”

You nodded reluctantly, fully prepared to defend yourself. “Right? But hear me out—I thought it’d be the perfect job. You get to walk around all day, wear a cute little uniform, and people are always happy to see you because you’re delivering their mail.”

Jay blinked, surprised by how sincere you sounded. “That’s…actually kind of sweet.” He fidgeted in his seat, as if he was uncomfortable by the feeling in your stomach.

You raised an eyebrow. “You just called it stupid.”

“I did,” he admitted. “But now it sounds weirdly wholesome. Like, the kind of dream a Pixar protagonist would have.”

You laughed, pointing at him. “See? You get it now.”

“No, I don’t but I see why a kid would like something like that. Very one-dimensional but…endearing so I won’t crucify you.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to suppress a laugh. “Anyway…”

Jay nods, finding himself getting too comfortable. “Yeah, yeah. What’s next?”

You glance at your list of questions, already grinning. “Let’s talk about your daily routine.”

“Okay.” He leaned back in thought. “So…I wake up and am out of bed at exactly 9 AM. From there I do the typical, brush my teeth and wash my face. 9:19, I get dressed…then at 9:28 I—”

And as he rambled on about this rigid routine and you sat there in shock, almost gobsmacked at how much of a stick in the mud this guy was. Like holy fuck, is there any joy in his life?

“Then I spray my cologne at exactly 9:28 because it’s the perfect time to balance out the scent before I head out the door.” Jay continued, completely unaware of the disbelief that was likely written all over your face.

Letting out an incredulous laugh, trying to wrap your mind around this. “Woah, woah, woah…so you’re telling me you have this entire routine mapped down to the exact minute?”

“Is that bad?” Jay looked as if you were stupid or said something ridiculous. You caught yourself quickly, trying to do everything in the world to not make him go back into his shell and retract. “No! It’s not at all just…I didn’t expect for you to have so much discipline.”

He shook his head, “You say that as if everyone doesn’t have a routine.” From the look on his face, it was another moment of him just not being able to wrap his own mind around how you would think something like this is wild.

“Everyone has some sort of routine or regimen, but that? Jay, it’s like you’re in the military or something.” You smiled.

“Are you jealous?” He tilted his head, completely oblivious to how weird that sounded, though you were only slightly taken aback. You weren’t used to his blatant honesty yet but, baby steps.

“Very much so, actually.” You nodded curtly as you turned to your laptop to type some more information on there for your draft. “It takes me like an hour to get out of bed.”

Jay doesn’t reply but just suppresses a smile as he nods, he doesn’t judge you completely but for someone like him, he urgently needs some sort of structure. It simply gives him peace of mind and there’s nothing that makes him feel more secure than following his solid regimen. Sure, others would call him strict, anal-retentive, literally insane but if that’s the case then so be it!

“But for now, the last question.” You smile as you finish typing some more, “What is something that you’ve always wanted to do?”

“Nothing. I’ve done everything that I’ve wanted to do already.” He replies back almost immediately.

“Everything?” You deadpanned, “There’s nothing that you want to do right now?”

He pursed his lips as he slowly shook his head, “Nope. I’ve seen the world, I’m fortunate enough to have given back to people that need it, I’m lucky enough to attend one of the best universities in the country.” He shrugged, “All before I’m 30.”

A part of your stomach flipped, unsure if it was from how attractive he was from the mix of arrogance and humility. But maybe…envy?

Jay, along with many other students at your university, were very wealthy and there was no denying that he lived comfortably. His father was on the Board of Directors of a world-renowned software engineering company and his mother was the Creative Director of a high-end global fashion brand. They had a wonderful marriage and Jay never had to worry about not having anything—he only had to worry about how much he was able to get.

Granted he can’t control who his parents were, Jay knew the privilege that he held and was not ignorant to that fact. He was lucky to have a childhood with minimal trauma, great friends, a happy home, and to be attractive because he knew that privileges came with that too.

As for you, you came from a middle class family and your childhood wasn’t entirely too bad. You were a child of divorce and your parents couldn’t stand the other, you had to share things with your siblings, and when it was time to apply for college you had to work tirelessly to earn scholarships to supplement tuition because your grades just weren’t good enough. But you weren’t stupid, you just had to find a sport to be undeniable in, so by the grace of everything good your parents put you and your younger sister in cheer when you were kids. She found other things and ventured off while you stuck with cheer. Now here you are at Decelis University on a full ride.

But that didn’t come easily. Serious groveling was involved.

So as Jay spoke about how he’s lived a life of travel, charity, and world-class education—you only had the latter in common. And that hurt you more than you’d like to admit.

You so utterly wished you were able to travel, use your means for good, and have parents to brag about.

You swallowed, forcing a polite smile as you tapped your keyboard. “Right. Of course. That makes sense.”

Jay didn’t say anything, but you felt his gaze settle on you. Not sharp, not piercing—but steady. You could practically hear him analyzing your silence.

“And you?” he asked suddenly.

You blinked, surprised he even cared enough to return the question. “Me?”

He nodded once. “What’s something you’ve always wanted to do?”

You hesitated, your fingers pausing mid-gesture on the trackpad. “Honestly? I want to travel. I want to see somewhere far away. Somewhere where no one knows me.” You tried to keep your voice light, casual. “I wanna sit on a train that cuts through foggy mountains, or eat food I can’t pronounce off a plate I don’t recognize. I want to…disappear for a while.” You nodded with something distant in your gaze, as if you were on that train already. Eating that food and trying and failing to make friends with the locals.

Jay’s eyes didn’t move from yours. He didn’t offer sympathy. He didn’t soften. He just regarded you like he was simply encoding the information you were giving him, like he couldn’t relate but he was trying to understand anyway. “That’s not impossible,” he said plainly.

You waved him off but let out a smile right after. “For you? Probably not.”

Jay raised an eyebrow. “You think I didn’t work to get where I am?”

You looked at him, dry. “Did you have to beg the financial aid office for three weeks straight and pray someone lost your paperwork just so you could get more funding?”

He was quiet again. And then, “No.”

You turned back to your laptop. “Exactly.”

Jay didn’t apologize. He didn’t offer a solution. He just leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest.

“Then maybe you should get better at begging.”

You froze.

It wasn’t said with malice. He wasn’t being cruel. But still—it hit like a slap. Cold, clean, and sharp enough to draw blood.

You blinked down at your laptop, suddenly unable to see the screen clearly. Your throat tightened and a piercing rush of fury made haste to your stomach.

“…Right.” You said it lightly. Like it didn’t matter. Like you weren’t already replaying the words in your head on loop, wondering if he meant them as an insult or advice or some strange mixture of both.

Jay shifted slightly in his seat. If he noticed the change in your tone, he didn’t say anything. He just went quiet again—returning to that wall of silence you’d gotten so used to at the beginning.

And just like that, you were reminded exactly why you never talked about stuff like this with people like him.

—

Later that night, Jay along with the guys—sans Heeseung, he was out on a date with his current girlfriend—along with their freshman friend, Jungwon, were playing Fortnite.

As Jay sat in his bedroom, eyeing his PC with his blue-light glasses, he heard muffled swears and screaming through his headphones as one of them was downed. “Yo Jay, revive me, what the fuck!” Jake yelled into the mic as he was downed during a gunfight.

Jay instinctively hit the key combo to crouch and build cover, shielding Jake’s fallen avatar as bullets whizzed past them.

“You’re too far out,” Jay muttered, reviving him anyway. “You always do this. Every time.”

“Bro, just say you love me and go,” Jake huffed.

“He’s not gonna say that,” Sunghoon laughed. “Jay probably hasn’t said ‘I love you’ since he was, like, six.”

“I say it when I mean it,” Jay replied coolly, tone dry as ever.

“Oh, so never,” Jungwon piped in, and the rest of the guys lost it.

Jay rolled his eyes, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “Focus up. We’re top twenty.”

But just as he adjusted in his seat, Jake broke the flow again. “Wait—how’d that interview go earlier? You were with my girl for a minute.”

Jay deadpanned, “She’s not your girl, she doesn’t like you. She’s rejected you multiple times, she will never want you. Ever, in your life.” He concealed a smile, trying not to laugh at his own cruelty.

The call went silent then Sunghoon and Jungwon ended up bursting into their own laughter. Jungwon’s being the loudest of course.

Jake smiled too, trying to seal his laughs as well—though he was defeated. “Shut up! She’ll come around one day.”

Jay adjusted his headset, the smirk still tugging at his lips. “Sure, bro. Just keep telling yourself that.”

“Nah, I’m serious,” Jake said through a laugh. “Girls love the long game. I’m just giving her time to realize I’m the love of her life.”

Sunghoon snorted. “More like time to block your number.”

“Or file a restraining order,” Jungwon chimed in, wheezing.

Jake gasped dramatically. “I would never harass! I’m a gentleman.”

Jay hummed, casually looting a nearby chest. “A gentleman wouldn’t call her ‘my girl’ when she’s clearly not interested.”

Jake exhaled, letting the teasing roll off. “Alright, alright. Point made. How’d it go though? Actually.”

Jay leaned back slightly, eyes narrowing on the screen like he was thinking more about earlier than the game. “It went fine.”

“Just fine? You were with her for hours.” Sunghoon inquired, looting in one of the bunkers they arrived at just in time.

Jungwon followed suit as he axed at some gold, “Wait, what girl are we talking about?”

Jay said your name blankly, eyes still very glued to the screen as he came out of the bunker and got in the car to drive them across the map.

Jungwon’s eyes widened, “The cheerleader? The captain?” He hopped out of the car to shoot other stragglers behind some trees. “Bro, she’s so fine.”

Jake perked up, “I’m telling you! I’ve been saying this for years!” He knocked an opponent and immediately went to shoot at his teammate.

Jay’s eyes, still not leaving the screen as he muttered, “She’s alright.”

Sunghoon laughed, “You’re trippin’, that girl could tell me to bend over and I’d do it yesterday.”

The boy in glasses furrowed his brows, “I’m not tripping over anything. I’m sitting down, what are you talking about? And Hoon, are you alright?”

“You piss me off…” Jungwon sighed. “And yeah, that was crazy. Valid, but crazy.”

Jake laughed, “Trippin’ as in, you’re crazy. Losing your mind. What you said or did doesn’t make sense.”

Jay snorted, adjusting his loadout as he drove past an enemy squad without flinching. “That sounds stupid as fuck. But, okay I get it. I just don’t agree.”

“You’re telling me,” Jake said, incredulous, “that you sat across from her for all that time and didn’t once think she was hot?”

Jay shrugged. “Didn’t say that. I said she’s alright.”

“Oh my God,” Jungwon muttered. “You’re lying through your teeth.”

“I’m not,” Jay insisted, swerving the car expertly through an ambush. “She’s highly intelligent. Thorough. Articulate. Actually listens when you talk. But yeah—sure. The first thing you focus on is that cheer skirt.”

Despite the fact that was in fact lying through his teeth, Jay found you incredibly attractive and there was no denying that. But he wouldn’t dare admit it because then that would make it seem real. He respected you, a whole lot more than one would think. And the fact that he was so quick to defend you in this instance made him cringe at the thought, but satisfied that he stood for something in the name of you.

Jake gasped again. “How dare you reduce me to a stereotype!”

Sunghoon barked a laugh. “You are a stereotype.”

Jake ignored him. “But wait, what was the vibe though? Like, did y’all actually talk or was it just, like, all questions and shit?”

Jay hesitated, the car slowing slightly as the storm closed in around the map’s edges. “She just asked questions about me.” He shrugged, “my life, what I want to do, the things I’ve always wanted to do, et cetera.”

“And…you said?” Jungwon pried.

“I just answered her questions, but it got weird on the last one.”

Jake narrowed his eyes, even though Jay couldn’t see it. “What was the last one?”

Jay scratched the side of his neck, still focused on the screen. “She asked me what I’ve always wanted to do. So I told her the truth. That I’ve done most of it already—travel, service, the academic stuff.”

Sunghoon hummed. “Okay,”

Jay ignored him. “But then I asked her the same question. And she said she wants to disappear.”

“Disappear?” Jungwon echoed, his voice dipping.

“Not in a scary way,” Jay clarified quickly. “Just…like go somewhere far. Somewhere no one knows her. Ride trains. Be unrecognizable for a while. Just be somewhere new.”

Jake went quiet, his fingers pausing over his keys. “That’s…actually pretty cool.”

Jay nodded once. “She meant it too. Said it like she’s been dreaming about it for years.”

“And what’d you say?” Sunghoon asked, a little more gently now.

Jay sighed, his voice getting quieter. “I said that’s not impossible. That if she really wanted it, she could do it.”

Jungwon blinked. “Okay, not the worst response—”

“But then she waved me off and was like ‘for you, probably not.’” He reflected as he leaned back against the back of his chair. “And I took it a little personally and assumed that she thought that I didn’t work for what I have.”

“Oh no…” Sunghoon groaned, already smelling something negative from a mile away. He knew how Jay got at times, he genuinely didn’t—and still doesn’t—know how to talk to people. It’s not like he means to be this way, but it just takes him time to warm up to people. If it’s not his family or his friends—that he’s known for the last twenty years—then he really doesn’t know how to navigate emotional nuance. Jay’s not cruel, not cold, but he’s clinical. Methodical. He speaks in facts and solutions. And sometimes, that means he ends up sounding like a dick when he doesn’t mean to.

“Then she said that wasn’t what she meant but then asked me if I ever had to beg financial aid for more money. I, obviously, said no. But then I told her that she should get better at begging then.” He sighed.

“Oh, you’re shitty.” Sunghoon laughed as he rubbed his eyes, groaning. “Dude, why would you say that?”

“I don’t know!” Jay snapped, a little defensive, but mostly just frustrated with himself. “It came out before I could stop it. I didn’t mean it like that.”

Jake winced. “You told a scholarship student to get better at begging. Like she hasn’t already had to do that a hundred times.”

Jay dragged a hand through his hair, clearly regretting everything. “It was supposed to be a joke—like, a dry one. I thought she’d get that I wasn’t being serious.”

“She’s not one of us, Jay,” Jungwon said, unusually pointed. “She doesn’t know your humor. And even if she did, that’s not funny.”

“Yeah bro, she’s a girl, you can’t talk to her like she’s a fucking man.” Jake said, trying to lighten the mood but still firm. “Like, guys are different, we can take jabs and laughs, but with girls...you can’t just throw shit like that around.”

Jay paused, processing. “What does gender have to do with this?”

Jake leaned back in his chair, exhaling like it was obvious. “It’s just how it is, man. Girls already hate men as is. I curse at you, call you names, sure, but I would never say any of those things to a woman, ever.” He shook his head as he leaned back into his chair. “It’s also a respect thing too.”

Jay frowned, his brow furrowing. “I don’t think that’s about gender. If anything, I’ve known you for years. If I can take shit from you, she should be able to handle a dry comment. You guys joke with her all the time.”

Jake shook his head. “You don’t get it, dude. Like, you see how I curse at you? Call you a dumbass every other minute? I know you don’t take it personally, but if I said some of that stuff to a girl, she’d think I was being an asshole, not just joking around. It’s different.” He perked up, making his final point. “Also, the way you talk to her—when you rarely do—is like you can’t stand her already so how do you think she’d take that?”

Sunghoon chimed in, his voice light but understanding. “Exactly, man. You’ve got this wall of sarcasm, and some people—especially if they don’t know you well—can’t see it as anything but you just being a dickhead. She probably heard that, and it didn’t feel like a joke.”

“I don’t even think it’s that, it’s the fact that she was vulnerable enough to be real with you and you just shit on her.” Jungwon said idly, landing the last shot before winning a victory royale for the squad.

Jay sighed, “Yeah, I don’t feel great about it.”

“Good. You can actually feel something other than disdain and dejection for once.” Sunghoon said as he bit his apple and tapped on his desk.

“Those are big words for Elmo,” Jay muttered, half under his breath as he reached for his water bottle.

Sunghoon rolled his eyes, unimpressed. “You see what I mean? That’s exactly the shit I’m talking about. You deflect everything with sarcasm.”

Jake pointed at his screen. “And that’s cute when we’re roasting each other during a game, but when someone’s opening up to you…”

Jay swirled his water bottle before taking a sip. “I’m not trying to be an asshole. I just…don’t always know what to say.”

“We know,” Jungwon said, cracking his knuckles. “That’s why we’re saying think next time. She wasn’t trying to play you or be dramatic. She was sharing something real, and you basically made a joke out of it.”

Jay was quiet for a second too long. His screen dimmed slightly, signaling how still he’d gotten.

Jake noticed the silence and took the opportunity to cut the tension. “Anyway,” he said, stretching in his chair, “she’s still bad as hell though.”

Sunghoon laughed. “Dude, facts. Like, no offense to your emotional growth or whatever, Jay, but she’s gorgeous.”

“Deadass,” Jungwon chimed in. “When she walks by in that uniform? Everything drops. My jaw, my heart, my stomach, my GPA, my balls—”

Jay interjected, returning to the conversation. “I said she’s alright.”

The call fell silent for a beat.

“…Are you gay?” Jake asked bluntly.

Jay blinked. “What?”

“Like, respectfully,” Jake said, leaning forward. “You just said she’s alright and not, like, ethereal, which is a crazy take.”

“Right,” Sunghoon nodded. “Like, it’s okay if you are. Just tell us now so we stop wasting time setting you up with every fine girl we meet.”

Jay stared at his screen, unamused. “I’m not gay.”

“You sure?” Jungwon teased. “Because saying she’s just ‘alright’ when she looks like that is wild.”

Jay sighed. “I’m just not interested in her like that.”

Jake leaned into the mic, grinning. “So you admit she’s fine, though?”

Jay hesitated, then exhaled sharply. “I acknowledge she is conventionally attractive, sure.”

Sunghoon snorted. “You sound like Siri.”

“I’m just saying,” Jay shrugged, sipping his water again. “I’m not blind. I just don’t base my entire personality around girls I’ve never had a conversation with.”

Jake clutched his chest. “I have had conversations with her—”

“She called you delusional to your face,” Jay deadpanned.

“And I respect her honesty!” Jake defended.

Sunghoon pointed out, “There’s a lot to like, Jay.” He nods affirmatively, “Once you get to know her, she’s so sweet. She’s a great girl.”

Jay deadpanned, “So why don’t you date her then?”

“Because he knows not to play with me.” Jake said passively as he stood up to stretch.

Jungwon rolled his eyes, “Shut the fuck up, bro.”

Jake scoffed as he twisted at the waist, cracking his back. “She wants me and you know it. You’re just mad because I don’t fumble every conversation I have with her.”

Jay didn’t even look up. “You fumble every other one though.”

Sunghoon wheezed. “He’s got you there, man.”

Jake put his hands on his hips, mock offended. “You’re just jealous because when she talks to me, she laughs. You get ‘that’s not what I meant’ and a pity smile.”

Jay blinked slowly. “But she’s also the one that really wants to be my friend so…”

“Okay,” Jungwon interrupted, dragging his chair closer to the screen. “We’re spiraling. Let’s just agree none of us are winning with her right now.”

“I am,” Jake said under his breath.

“Bro, shut the fuck up,” all three of them said in unison.

Jake raised his hands in surrender, a smug grin spreading across his face. “Just saying. Some of us have charm.”

Jay looked dead at his screen, monotone. “You’re wearing a Naruto headband.”

Jake held it up proudly. “And I still get more girls than you.”

Jay smiled, “That’s by choice.” He laughed, “Believe me,”

Jake’s jaw dropped. “Nah, bro, be serious. You haven’t had a proper crush since we were fifteen.”

Jay leaned back, utterly unbothered. “That’s because I have taste. And standards.”

“Oh my God,” Jungwon muttered, rubbing his temples. “Here we go.”

Jake was not letting it go. “What, so every girl I’ve liked is beneath your standards now?”

Jay shrugged. “I didn’t say it. You did.”

Sunghoon laughed, wheezing now. “This man really thinks he’s better than the rest of us just because he’s emotionally constipated.”

“I’m selective,” Jay corrected, folding his arms.

“You’re allergic to joy,” Jungwon said flatly.

Jay pointed. “Selective.”

Jake crossed his arms. “Alright, selective—so what’s the deal with you and her then?”

Jay blinked. “What deal?”

Jake leaned forward, grinning now. “You think she’s pretty?”

Jay paused for a half-second too long. “She’s…alright.”

The silence was deafening.

Sunghoon leaned toward the mic, deadpan. “Do you like men?”

Jay didn’t even flinch. “Only your dad.”

—

So in some weird, fucked up way, after that meeting your life has seemed to spiral even more.

It’s only been two days since, and while you had to return back to class soon—you hadn’t even looked Jay in the eye since. And respectfully so.

But it’s like he just put some weird curse on your life. Your hair has been frizzy, the gel in your wash and go was giving out which resulted in you having to slick it back. Which wasn’t bad, it just meant you had to put extra time into your appearance—which means you have to get up earlier—and gel is not cheap!

You’ve been having cramps because your period has come back with a vengeance, it’s been raining, and to make matters worse…your laptop gave out.

Was the laptop like ten years old? Yes, but that’s not the point as if she couldn’t wait to give out at a better time?

Luckily, all of your files and anything worth keeping were all saved on cloud. But besides your phone and tablet, you had no convenient device to access them on. And it wasn’t like you could just get up and buy a new one. Money was tight at home right now and you weren’t going to have a job until the upcoming summer. Which even then, still wouldn’t give you enough money for another computer.

So as you sat at your desk in your dorm, hands shaking over your laptop keyboard as you eyeballed the blacked out screen—you pondered what the bond for an arson offense would be.

Your chest heaved as your head grew tight, tears threatening to release tears as you quickly grabbed your phone. You needed to let this out.

you: are y’all at the dorm?

sunghoon <3: yeah why?

heeseungie <3: mhm

jakey <3: yes beloved

jay: no, at my place

you: ok well besides jay, everyone evacuate

blowing up this entire campus rn, me included

sunghoon <3: ?????

heeseungie <3: um ???

jakey <3: HELLO ??/1!1!/1/??

you: me included

EVERYBODYS dying bro idc

heeseung <3: what happened kiddo?

you: bro my fkn laptop is GONE

like not working

dead

conked out

DONE-ZO

NIENTE

jakey <3: wasn’t she like rly old tho??

you: that’s not the point

the point is that I NEED HER NOW MORE THAN EVER BRUH LIKE WTF ????

ngl this has not been my week

sunghoon <3: yeah that’s gotta suck omg i’m so sorry

heeseungie <3: no fr like if i had an extra one or something i would seriously give it to you

jakey <3: yes srsly i’m so sorry love

jay: does this mean our sessions are over?

you: yes for now, i have to speak to my professor and ask for an extension or some accommodation for rn

guess ur off the hook for a while, i’ll just let u know

jakey <3: i mean you could always use my laptop when you need to

you: oh thanks jake

jakey <3: you just gotta come over to my dorm to get it tho

you: i am going to put my hands on you

jakey <3: i’d actually really like that

heeseungie <3: you just…

—

It took everything in Jay’s power to not bust a gut in this situation. It was almost pathetic really, like this was laughable. He had to sit there with you and the other guys as you continuously ranted about the minor inconveniences that were throwing off your routine. Your hair, the fuckass weather, him, and now your laptop.

And maybe that’s what made it so funny. That you were actually stressed. Not in the performative, “oh my god my life is ending because I chipped a nail” kind of way, but in the “I’m one inconvenience away from crying in public” kind of way. And Jay could see it in your eyes—even through the screen. The way your hands trembled around your phone. The way your voice cracked mid-rant when you started talking about your files. The way you tried to play it off with drama and threats of arson, but the bags under your eyes said you were just really fucking tired.

It was that—more than the jokes, more than the laptop, more than the insult you texted him directly—that stayed with him.

Jay wasn’t good with feelings. But he knew guilt. He knew it very well.

That night, he stared at his ceiling with one arm flung over his head and the other scrolling through his phone. His Apple store cart sat open, untouched for twenty minutes. The MacBook Air (15”, Midnight, 256GB) hovered near checkout. He added a sleeve. Then deleted it. Then added it again.

Then he opened Amazon against his better judgment, typing ‘macbook air 15 inch case’ into the search bar. So as he perused some of the options, he saw a clear, glittery one that mirrored the one you had on your last computer. Okay, nice. Add to Cart.

Then he caught himself looking at a bunch of stickers, some funny ones, some cute ones, some aesthetic ones, he didn’t care he just added all of them. Add. Add. Add. Then purchased them quickly then switched back to the Apple page and added the extra annual eighty dollars for insurance and pressed buy without a second thought. Labeling both orders as gifts so he could avoid putting his name.

“I’m not doing this because I feel bad,” he muttered to himself. “I’m doing this because…she needs it. That’s it.”

The confirmation email popped into his inbox a few seconds later, notifying him that both orders would be in your P.O. box in two days.

He didn’t say anything to the group the next day. Just went to class like normal. Looked right through you when you walked into lecture, wet hair tied up, hoodie swallowing your shoulders. He watched as you opened your notebook and used your tablet to follow along with the slides on the projector screen.

And the whole time, he said nothing.

—

You didn’t check your P.O. box until late that evening. You only stopped by because the notification wouldn’t stop popping up on your phone and you thought it was maybe a bill or another random spam from that shitty Mediterranean place off campus.

Confusion, the expression on your face as you got two slips for your box and brought two different packages back to your room. You don’t recall ordering anything this size but you just chalked it up to the seller not having small enough boxes to fit your skincare into.

So when your eyes laid on a thin, sleek white box with a fraction of its logo out of it…your stomach dropped. As well as a sleeve.

You scrambled to the other box to open it, seeing a boatload of stickers, a case, and everything else. The air around you shifted, what the fuck.

Tears misted your eyes as you scanned for a note, something, any indicator of this not being a fluke. Fortunately for you, a note was printed in the package with the stickers and case:

first math notes, now a laptop?

whatever happened to hello, my name is…?

well let me start, my name is

— a friend

p.s. the laptop is insured. if anything happens to it, just give it to them under your name.

You didn’t know whether to be creeped out and deeply troubled or appreciative and suddenly in love? For someone who threatened arson and assault on a trusted friend, you weren’t exactly within your right mind and that’s okay!

But despite feeling scared—you were going to worry about that later—your chest convulsed a bit as you sat down at your desk. Tears biting at your eyes and eventually giving way to the oncoming ones.

You wanted to leave the tears to your period, or maybe even the mild seasonal depression. But this was truly surreal, again creepy, but surreal.

This might sound super dramatic—hello, if not then what are we even here for—but you sobbed, hands shaking as you hugged the laptop to your chest. Your forehead resting on your desk as tears pooled onto the surface.

You didn’t know who to thank. The universe? God? Allah? Buddha? Your ancestors? Whoever it was to thank for sending this mystery person into your life that so obviously had the means to help you in such an urgency and dire situation.

Your whole life was this laptop, it had stuck with you through part of middle school, high school, the first two and half years of college and you hadn’t really known how much it had meant to you until you didn’t have it anymore.

For now, you weren’t going to focus on who did it. Just the moment and the gratitude of your problem being solved.

Small—well—Major victories.

—

After time had set in, you had time to rest and recalibrate. Having this time for yourself definitely helped alleviate the stress.

With this, though, you started to make sense of things.

The only person you had even told about your struggles in math were your mother. No one else as you didn’t want anyone to think you were stupid for being in danger of failing. Academic insecurities, they’re never rational. As if you’re the only person in the world to be bad at math.

Then, you had only told your Flower-4 about the laptop situation.

Nothing made sense. There were major discrepancies in this. When you had told your mom about your math quarrel, you were in a public place where anyone could’ve seen or heard you. Okay, whatever. But there is something to note that you definitely do need to scan the places you walked into from now on.

Plus, the laptop thing happened so quickly that you didn’t even have time to complain about it for long before there was a new one in your hands. But clearly this was the same person.

Despite that, you loved your new computer. It was nice, sleek, slim, a lot faster than the last one and that was a major step up. Plus, at least it was insured. You kept open beverages too close to your electronics more than you’d like to admit.

You sat in the courtyard at some random table as you typed away on your new device. The weather had been better the past few days and you decided to take advantage of the cool weather. So here you were, hoodie and sweats in tow, hunched over your laptop as you hurried to catch up on the work you had put off the last two days. The wind blew your coily hair all kinds of ways so you just put it up and out of the way for the time being.

Blasting music in your headphones, you couldn’t hear a thing and that was more than enough reason for you to lock in on your assignments. Until you felt a tap on your shoulder and saw someone plop down at the chair right across from you.

“Good morning, gorgeous.” The annoyingly attractive Jake sat with a smile that shone the light of a thousand suns.

You let out a small laugh as you moved one of your ear pads to the side so you could hear him. “Hi, Jake.”

“How are y—Woah!” He leaned in closer to inspect your shiny new toy. “When did you get this? I thought you were assed out!”

Jake was nothing if not nosy, and as much as you loved him as an older brother—only a few months difference—you could not bring yourself to be real with him right now. Unless he was the culprit, a culprit wouldn’t act as surprised as he was now. He’s such a transparent person that anyone could tell if he was lying, it didn’t take much.

Not to mention, you really didn’t want anyone having eyes and ears on this until you knew for sure what was going on yourself.

“I thought so too. But I just had to dip into my savings.” You sighed as you peered up at him.

“Damn,” Jake said, leaning back with a low whistle. “That’s kind of...wow. This thing’s beautiful. Is that a matte finish?”

You hummed noncommittally, already returning to your screen in an effort to change the subject. “Yeah. It’s...nice.”

But he didn’t drop it. Of course he didn’t.

Jake tilted his head, watching you type with narrowed eyes. “Wait, so you bought this, like, yesterday?”

“Day before.”

“And had it shipped that fast with a custom case and glitter stickers?”

You didn’t answer fast enough.

He blinked. “Yo. That’s...kind of a lot for someone who was mourning her last laptop like a dead relative.”

You shot him a dry look. “What, you want me to carry its ashes around?”

“No, but I do want the truth,” he said, brows raised. “Because this isn’t adding up. You don’t move like that.”

You took a slow breath through your nose. You could feel the words building in your throat, the itch to say I didn’t do this, someone else did, to say it wasn’t me—but I don’t know who to thank, and it’s killing me, but you held back.

Instead, you shrugged. “Maybe I panicked. Retail therapy and all that.”

Jake gave you a long look, then nodded slowly. “Alright. I’ll drop it.”

Jake wasn’t a good liar, I said. Never said he wouldn’t try. But you made peace with the moment you had.

“Still, I’m happy you got this situated. Seeing you mope around all day was killing my fucking vibe.” He smiled as he pulled out his phone.

You kicked him beneath the table, “Shut up,”

Jake winced dramatically, clutching at his shin. “Abuse. Wow. Witnessed and documented.”

“Document this,” you muttered, flipping him off with zero conviction as you refocused on your screen.

He chuckled, shaking his head as he scrolled through something on his phone, but didn’t leave. Jake was like a cat in that way—once he found a sunny spot, he’d stay there until something more interesting came along. You didn’t mind. It was comforting, having him nearby. The silence felt less loud with him in it.

A soft breeze passed through the courtyard, rustling the trees overhead, and you let it wash over you. For the first time in days, the knot in your chest didn’t feel like it was going to strangle you. The world kept turning. You had your laptop. You had your hoodie. You had Jake, annoying and radiant and grounding as ever.

But still, your fingers paused on the keyboard.

Because that didn’t mean you weren’t wondering.

It didn’t mean you weren’t thinking about him.

Not Jake.

The other him. The one you hadn’t dared to name yet.

The one whose voice lingered at the back of your mind whenever things went quiet. The one whose long, steady glances made your stomach flip. The one who you hadn’t told anything to—but somehow already knew everything.

Your eyes flicked up, scanning the courtyard out of pure instinct.

But no one was watching.

Just Jake, kicking his feet under the table and muttering to himself about a sudden scrimmage they had tomorrow morning.

Still, now you were getting paranoid and this was starting to bug you.

—

Eventually, you did have to meet with Jay again.

Regretfully so.

The one class he had got cancelled and he really didn’t feel like driving to campus to meet you. So you had to Uber to his house which was around twenty minutes away by car. You didn’t mind, Jay sent you the money for the ride, apologizing for the inconvenience.

Okay, someone’s probably feeling bad.

You stared down at the payment notification on your phone, thumb hovering over the screen.

It wasn’t that you were suspicious of Jay. Okay, maybe a little. But he was just...weird. Not creepy weird—just closed-off weird. Methodical. Particular. The kind of guy who would vacuum the inside of his car twice in one day because “you can never be too careful.” The kind of guy who would write down your Starbucks order with a diagram to get it right the first time.

The kind of guy who, if he had done something nice for you, would absolutely never admit it.

Still, none of it made sense. Jay was smart, sure. Quiet. Observant, sometimes to the point of unsettling. But you hadn’t told him anything. Not about the laptop, not about the math midterm stress meltdown, and definitely not about the nights you cried yourself into a spiral because everything felt like too much.

So why were you getting this itchy feeling in your chest?

You pulled your hoodie tighter around you and stepped out of the Uber when it rolled to a stop in front of his house. He’d texted the gate code already—because of course he had.

Jay opened it just as you raised your hand to knock.

His expression was blank. Not unfriendly. Just...blank. “Hey.”

“Hi.” You stepped inside, sliding off your shoes and scanning the familiar layout of his living room. “Thanks for the ride.” You placed them onto an empty spot on the rack, hoping this wouldn’t throw him off. But he didn’t seem to mind.

Despite being friend-adjacent to Jay for three years, this was the first time you had been to his home. His very contemporary, modern home. Weirdly enough, it had looked so eco-friendly and smooth on the outside but inside, the architecture and formatting was so homey. It felt like someone actually lived here but…robotically.

All you saw in your view were the meticulous details: a symmetrical shoe rack with each pair facing the same direction, a wall-mounted calendar color-coded to an extreme degree, and a bookshelf that seemed more like a display case than a personal collection. Each book aligned perfectly at the spine. No dust. No clutter.

The couch looked like it had never been sat on. The throw blanket draped over the back was folded into a triangle. Who folds things into triangles?

Jay walked ahead of you, already moving with that same silent efficiency he always did—like a ghost who had a schedule.

You followed him into the kitchen, unable to stop yourself from scanning everything as if there were a clue hidden somewhere. Everything here was so spacious, like this was meant for a family rather than just one person. The lighting was warm, the countertops spotless, and there were two matching mugs on the counter already set out. One for him. One for you.

Okay. Oddly considerate for someone who barely speaks.

He poured water into a kettle like it was muscle memory, and you leaned against the counter, eyeing him.

“You do this for all your guests?” you asked lightly, half-joking, half-curious.

Jay didn’t look at you. “Don’t really have guests.”

He said it like it was a fact. Not sad. Not defensive. Just how things were.

You tilted your head. “So what am I?”

He glanced up at you then—finally—and there was a flicker of something in his expression. Not quite surprise. Not quite amusement. Just the ghost of a smile. “Exception.”

The kettle clicked to life behind him, and the kitchen settled into quiet again.

You blinked.

Okay, what?

You didn’t know what to make of that. You weren’t even sure he meant to say it. Maybe you misheard. But he turned back to the counter, calm as ever, and went back to his tea prep like he hadn’t just said something vaguely intimate and haunting.

Nonetheless, you cleared your throat—just to simmer the tension. “Anywhere you want me to set up?” You said as you toyed with the adjusters on your backpack.

His gaze was still glued to the mugs, but he hummed in thought. “The table right there sounds good, thank you.”

Without a word, you padded over to the kitchen table as you took out your materials needed to start. First, your journal. Then, your pencil case. Your folder, then lastly your computer.

You hadn’t looked at him for a reaction, the same one that Jake had given you. Calm, slightly uncomfortable—not from him. If Jay made you uncomfortable then you wouldn’t be around him nor would you have asked all of this from him. Just nerves, the tension in the air from some weird mix of prior history between you two—not much to go off of as you could swear he hated your guts—and lust.

Jay had always stood out to you. Out of all of his friends, he was the least flamboyant, the quieter one, the one that minded his business and didn’t speak unless spoken to. Something about his blunt, structured, logical ways was so alluring to you. As you are more of an emotional person, a huge part of you had always yearned for more pragmatism in a partner and his maker might have sprinkled a bit much of that in him and you’re not sure if you’re fine with this or not.

Despite the attraction toward his personality, Jay was undeniably sexy. In a very—this word is very overused but it fits—nonchalant way. He didn’t try too hard, he didn’t try nor want to be seen and that made a part of you feel glad that not many people had access to him.

Contrary to Jake, Sunghoon, and Heeseung—even though they’re great people—they’re whores. They have their fun and are not scared to spread all the love they have to give to the world. They either jumped from girl to girl, or they just slept around. And while nothing was wrong with that, that’s not the type of man you wanted.

Something about the lowkey ones always turn you on a whole lot more.

And despite Jay being a major dickhead at times, he wasn’t totally evil and that makes you have even an ounce of respect for his character. He stuck to the same people, no drama, intelligent, well-rounded, charitable, and honest—in more ways than one.

So as he sat at the table with you, mugs in hand, he carefully slid the hot tea in front of you and a little ways from your belongings.

You offered a quiet “Thanks,” watching the way he handled the cup—deliberate, steady, like he thought through every movement before making it. It wasn’t just how he moved, it was how he existed. Controlled. Precise. Like he didn’t have time to waste being clumsy or accidental.

He didn’t say anything, just took a sip of his own tea and settled back against the chair, manspread in one of his forty different pairs of black sweats.

You sipped yours too, still feeling that flicker of heat in your chest from earlier. Exception. God. Who even says that? And so casually. Like it didn’t carry a ridiculous amount of weight for someone who barely let anyone in.

Jay didn’t seem fazed, though. If anything, he looked…blank again. Not closed-off. Just unreadable. Like he was used to people not trying to figure him out. Or giving up halfway through.

But you decided to break the ice, “So last time we spoke, we just did a little questioning so that I could get a feel for your personality. Remember? The basic stuff, then the more fantastical, hypothetical ones?”

He nodded, “I remember, I was there.” He opened a package of cookies and dipped them in his tea, then quietly slid them over to you in offering.

You raised your brow in suspicion but accepted the cookie nonetheless. “Yeah…” You looked down at your notes you took on your computer from last time. You scanned as you sighed, “Okay, well now we’re due for the observational stuff.”

Jay’s brows furrowed in confusion, “Observational? As in—”

“—as in I watch you,” you cut in, tone casual but your eyes sharp. “I observe your behavior in a natural environment. Not scripted. Not prompted. Just…you.”

Jay stilled, cookie halfway to his mouth.

You smiled at his hesitation. “Relax. It’s not like I’m writing your psychological profile for a government file. It’s just for class.”

He looked vaguely unconvinced. “And what does that entail? You sit here and stare at me for an hour while I drink tea?”

“Pretty much.” You shrugged, clicking your pen open. “I’ll ask a few small questions here and there, but I’m mostly just looking at your patterns. How you respond. The language you use. Your microexpressions.”

Jay leaned back in his chair, the ghost of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “So…you’re people-watching. But with a clipboard.”

“Basically.” You jotted something down—nothing major, just a note on his posture, how he sat with one leg crossed, his arms loosely on the table, totally unguarded yet somehow unreadable. “But it’s more than that. I’m trying to understand the link between your expression and your personality. You know—body language, tone, subconscious cues.”

Jay looked thoughtful for a beat. “So if I start acting weird, it’ll ruin your data?”

You being a Psychology minor, it was almost irresistible to incorporate these elements into your work. This is what made you and your works stand out—asking questions work, yes. But seeing how someone moves gives you all the answers you need.

“Jay,” you deadpanned. “This is a journalism project, not the DSM-5.”

He blinked. “Same difference.”

You huffed a laugh, typing something out just to mess with him. “Noted: subject shows signs of paranoia under minimal pressure.”

—

For the next hour, you sat on Jay’s couch in his expansive living room. Watching as he read a book in the complete silence of the house. But before you could even sit on the couch, he made you change into one of his sweats. He didn’t like the grime of outside being on his clean couch. Which…fair enough.

He’d handed you the pants wordlessly, just held them out like it was routine. Like this happens all the time.

“I—what?”

“I don’t like outside clothes on indoor furniture,” he said, already walking away. “The fibers cling.”

“…Okay, Sheldon Cooper.”

But you’d changed anyway, mostly because they were soft as hell and a part of you didn’t mind being in his clothes.

Okay then.

But Jay lived a very simple life, he spent a lot of his time reading, watching animal documentaries, and working on his assignments that are due for weeks in advance. You had noticed that throughout your observation of him, he had hardly touched his phone. It was actually all the way across the room and he had been peacefully going about his afternoon without so much of a thought.

Before, there was jealousy on your end. As in, how could someone be so productive and put together? Jay was so infuriatingly patient, calm, and he had such a knack for making time for everything. He was able to get work done and lounge all within the hour and it made you feel so incompetent. A one hour assignment turns into a three hour assignment because you can’t stop checking your socials and finding the right songs to fit your vibe: 50 Cent or Lana Del Rey? One can never tell.

But he’s been watching some documentary on Ancient Greek Mythology for the last 30 minutes and you’d be lying if you said it was boring.

As your eyes kept flitting from the mounted 75” TV and your notebook, there were flurries in your mind at this point.

I don’t even want to do this right now.

A nap sounds great.

Jay is still an asshole, but he’s disgustingly attractive and I want to kill him for that.

Take a break, you’ve been watching him do nothing all day.

Which, your subconscious was absolutely right. A little break wouldn’t hurt and you can guarantee he’ll still be in the same position, doing the same thing that he’s been doing.

With that, you sigh and place your notebook on the coffee table right in front of you. Plopping back into the plush, almost cloudlike cushions of the couch.

“Tired of me, already?” Jay poked, eyes looking over at you briefly before falling back onto the screen.

You smiled, “Never,” He didn’t respond. Not verbally, at least. But his eyes lingered on you for a second longer this time. Just a flicker of a glance, like he heard more than what you said. Or maybe you imagined that. You shifted, suddenly aware of how his sweatpants pooled a little too comfortably around your thighs. How warm the couch was. How warm he was, just a few feet away.

The documentary droned on in the background, but your thoughts were no longer tracking anything remotely educational. The quiet between you was heavy again—but not awkward. Just…thick. Like honey.You fought the urge to say something else, something stupid or clever, just to fill it. But instead, you closed your eyes. “I’m not gonna fall asleep,” you mumbled, mostly to yourself.

Jay’s voice was low and amused. “You already are.”

You sat up, rubbing your eyes. “You’re just boring.” You pout as you look around. “This big ass house and you don’t even utilize the space, or even—do you even—what do you do here, Jay?”

Jay didn’t answer right away. He reached for the remote, lowering the volume just a touch before setting it back down with precision—like everything he did was measured, controlled. He looked over at you, one brow slightly raised, a lazy half-smile tugging at the edge of his mouth. “I exist.”

You blinked. “That’s it? That’s your whole itinerary?”

He shrugged, leaning back against the couch. “I read. I cook. I clean. I work. I take care of myself. I sleep. I don’t need to fill every second of my day to prove I’m living.”

You narrowed your eyes. “So you’re boring on purpose.”

He chuckled—low and deep. “Or maybe you just don’t know how to sit still.”

Ouch.

You scoffed lightly, crossing your arms. “I can sit still.”

“Mm,” he hummed, clearly not convinced. “Then do it.”

It wasn’t a challenge, not really. Just a simple invitation, like he was offering you the calm he lived in every day. Daring you to match his stillness, to see if you could last. “You’re actually right,” You stood up and plopped right next to him on the sectional part on this massive couch. It was about the size of a queen size bed so both of you could fit there comfortably, but it didn’t take much to close the distance. “Still. I’m being still, still I am.” You cuddled one of the pillows to you as your eyes fell back to the TV and he raised the volume.

Jay didn’t look at you right away, but you saw the tiniest twitch at the corner of his mouth, like he was fighting a grin. He adjusted his leg slightly to give you a bit more room—not that you needed it, but he noticed anyway.

“Wow,” he said dryly. “An achievement. Gold star for staying still for fifteen seconds.” You nudged him with your shoulder, still hugging the pillow to your chest. “Give me a break. These are parts unknown. I don’t know how to…chill.”

He let out a soft breath—half sigh, half laugh. “That’s sad.”

You turned your head to look at him, eyes narrowing. “It’s not sad. I’m just used to chaos. To movement. Noise.”

“I know,” he said simply, eyes still on the screen. “That’s why I’m surprised you even asked to do this project on me.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m the opposite of what you’re used to.”

The room fell into that thick, thoughtful silence again. Not awkward, just…weighty. Like everything between you two was slowly layering, brick by brick. And yet, you stayed exactly where you were. Still. Quiet. Unmoving. Not because you were trying to win, but because it felt strangely okay to be still with him.

You could hear your heartbeat in the silence—and his breath, steady, controlled, like he had nothing to prove and never did.

“I’m a cheerleader, it’s literally my job to have pep.” You smile as you look up at him, humored by him.

Jay finally turned to look at you, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Yeah,” he said slowly, eyes scanning your face like he was seeing something new, “but you don’t have to perform here.”

That made your smile falter for just a second—not because it hurt, but because it hit. Quietly. Truthfully.

You blinked at him, your voice a little softer now. “What makes you think I’m performing?”Jay tilted his head a bit, resting it against the back of the couch. “You fill every room you walk into. It’s not a bad thing. It’s just…I don’t think you’ve ever really had the option not to.”

Your throat tightened just slightly, the way it does when someone clocks something about you that you hadn’t said out loud yet. You stared at the screen for a beat, though the documentary had long since faded into background noise.

“So what,” you said, trying to lighten it even as your voice stayed low. “You see through me now?”

Jay gave a small, amused breath. “No,” he said, almost shyly. “But I’ve been watching.”

He wasn’t teasing. He wasn’t even trying to be intense. He just…was. Honest and low and matter-of-fact in a way that made your chest do something weird and clench-y.

You nudged his shoulder, “Hey,” laughing as you slowly edged closer to him. “That’s my job,” Jay’s lips twitched again, but he didn’t smile all the way. “Mm,” he hummed, eyes flicking back to the screen, though the weight of what he said still lingered in the air. “Guess I’m just trying to understand the person who keeps watching me.”

Usually, your problem is that you find and figure things out too late. But something about the words that he threw your way felt layered. Like they didn’t just mean one thing, something else was resting behind the words.

This was very unusual with someone like Jay. Everything that he had to say was layered with fact and reason rather than allure and mystique. Not to beat a dead horse, but as pragmatic and objective as he is—it’s so weird to hear anything that could be interpreted as more than what it was.

Though who he was made him even more attractive to you: you didn’t have to guess with Jay. He let you know how he felt, if he liked, if he didn’t, if he thought you were irritating him, you would know.

He didn’t waste anyone’s time nor his own. Growing up with two entrepreneurs and businesspeople for parents, he learned at a very young age that time is money. And time—yours or someone else’s—is valuable. So he was very quick to let someone know what was going on. Never was anyone unsure of his stance on them or a situation.

Except for you. One minute he was indifferent, the next he didn’t like you, now y’all are sort of friends. He was already so hot and cold and you could never guess with him.

You didn’t reply to it, just wanted to brush this under the rug. “I have an idea,”

He hummed, eyes still locked on the screen.

“How about we do things my way? Just for the day?”

Jay didn’t look at you right away. He let your question linger, absorbing it while the glow from the TV flickered across his face. “Your way,” he repeated slowly, not skeptical—just curious. “And what exactly does that entail? Glitter? Screaming? Matching outfits?”

You snorted. “Wow, okay, stereotype much?”

He gave a light shrug. “You’re the one with the pep.”

“Well,” you sat up straighter, a little smirk tugging at your lips. “Maybe a little glitter. Maybe a little chaos. Maybe…” You tilted your head, playful but with a flicker of sincerity, “...something simple for now. You won’t even have to leave the house.”

Jay finally turned to look at you, eyes catching yours in that calm, unreadable way he always had—but this time, there was something else there. A flicker of curiosity. Trust, maybe. Or at least the beginnings of it.

“Alright,” he said slowly, the faintest edge of a smile ghosting his lips. “I’ll bite. What’s your definition of simple?”

You grinned. “Let’s build a fort and watch Disney movies.” You shrugged, like it was such a great way to spend your Wednesday evening.

“I’m a grown man, I’m not watching Ariel and—”

You hold up your finger, “DCOMs, we’re watching those. I never said Disney Princess movies.”

He furrowed his brows, “What’s the difference?”

He could laugh again at the look of disgust on your face. “I was more of a Cartoon Network kid, so…”

That threw you even more, “What?! You?! Park Jay?! Park Jongseong?!”

He held up his hand, now mirroring your repulsion, “Ew, don’t call me that.”

You laughed, “Sorry, but that just doesn’t make sense. It’s like,” you sit up to look at him. He was lying down partially and you were sitting up fully. So in some makeshift way, you were sitting above him and looking down at him as you spoke. “What you watched as a kid sort of…shapes you for the rest of your life. That’s because children are very impressionable. So a lot of adults that watched Disney Channel as kids tend to be a little peppier, a little witty in some cases, sometimes a little cynical.” You gestured around your hands as you ranted, Jay looking you in the eye as you did. Never wavering. “Meanwhile Cartoon Network kids grow up to be…class clownish, goofy, weird, but not weird-weird. More like…really niche and weird senses of humor because they grew up watching weird shows.” You smile, “Like Regular Show and Chowder are not for normal people. You kinda give me Disney XD, maybe Nickelodeon on a good day.”

As he watched you ramble he felt this strange thing called his heart soften. The way you went on about something as silly as children’s television made him rethink himself entirely.

Your heart was genuinely so soft and pure.

Despite how cold and rude he’s been to you, you’re still so sympathetic and genuinely kind. Since then and his conversation with the guys, he knows how much of a dickhead he’s been. You had always tried to be his friend and he understood why—not always but—you guys had been in the same circle for years and it’d be weird to not make friends. But now that you had kind of used this project to get to know him…he was more grateful than you would think. Sunghoon was absolutely right, you really are great. Such a sweet girl at heart.

He was rude to you but you let it go, didn’t hold it against him, and still tried to bond with him. At least from his perspective, but the last session was the worst he’s felt about himself in a long time. Which is exactly why he’d been dialing it back. Not as snippy, smiled a little more, he just relaxed and it all wasn’t intentional.

Jay felt indebted to you and the only way he knew to repay you was to be nice. Ease up a bit. Plus, given the math and laptop thing, a huge part of him—the affectionate, good part of him doesn’t want to see anyone struggle if they don’t deserve it.

You sighed, the tiredness setting back in as you dropped onto your back beside him, the pillows cradling your head. “Anyway,”

Jay huffed a laugh through his nose—almost a real laugh. You smiled to yourself, eyes fluttering shut for just a second.

“Alright,” he said after a pause, voice quieter, more honest. “We can build the stupid fort.”

You peeked an eye open at him. “You’re serious?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged like it was no big deal, but there was a softness around his eyes that betrayed him. “Could be worse ways to spend a Wednesday.”

Your smile was slow and bright, spreading across your face without even trying. And for the first time, maybe ever, Jay didn’t feel the instinct to roll his eyes or snap at you for it. He just let it happen—let you happen.

—

You clapped in glee as you eyed the massive, cushion-y fort you and Jay had put together.

It really was a masterpiece.

Layers of couch cushions, pillows, and throw blankets were stacked and draped over chairs and the sectional. A string of fairy lights Jay had begrudgingly dug out from some drawer wound around the makeshift walls, giving everything a soft, magical glow.

Jay stood with his arms crossed, surveying the chaos like he was trying very hard not to look impressed.

You turned to him, hands on your hips, beaming. “Admit it. You’re proud.”

He gave a noncommittal grunt, but his mouth twitched. “It’s…structurally sound. I’ll give you that.”

You gasped, clutching your chest. “High praise from Park Jongseong himself. I’m honored.”

“Stop calling me that,” he groaned, but there was no real bite to it.

Still grinning, you held up your hand signaling for him to wait a second. You scampered to your backpack to grab two adult coloring books, pencils, and markers. You flashed them in his direction in offering.

Jay smiled, “Why do you have coloring books?”

You shrugged, “I don’t know, why not? Ask the girl I was written by.”

Jay huffed a laugh through his nose, shaking his head as he took one of the coloring books from your hand.

“You’re ridiculous,” he said, flipping through the pages with the kind of quiet curiosity he didn’t bother hiding anymore.

“And you’re boring,” you teased lightly, plopping back down into the fort with a dramatic flump. “It’s so relaxing, watching movies and coloring.”

He smirked, low and fleeting, and settled in across from you. The two of you laid on your stomachs, the fairy lights casting soft halos around your heads as you both set to work, the markers squeaking faintly against the pages.

For a long time, it was just that—soft music from the movie, quiet coloring, the occasional bump of your legs when one of you shifted.

Jay found himself glancing over at you more often than he was coloring. The way your face scrunched up in concentration when you picked a color, the way you hummed under your breath when a song you liked came on.

He hadn’t realized how easy it was to be around you until right now—no pressure, no weird tension, just quiet company. Which he could never say no to.

You caught him looking once and made a silly face at him, sticking out your tongue. He rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the small, genuine laugh that escaped.

Somewhere in the middle of coloring a crooked sun in the corner of his page, he heard you yawn—a soft, muffled sound. When he looked over again, you had your head tucked into the crook of your arm, marker still loosely held between your fingers.

You blinked slowly, fighting it, but it was over before it even started. You drifted off, face relaxed and peaceful under the glow of the fairy lights.

Jay set his marker down carefully and just... watched you for a second. It was stupid how something this simple—this innocent—could hit him so hard.

The teen pop music from Starstruck still played in the background, and he almost hated to move, to ruin it.

But then his phone buzzed.

Sunghoon: “warzone?”

Jay groaned quietly to himself, dragging a hand over his face. He should wake you up. He should say something.

But you were so peaceful…your face was smushed against the pillow you leaned on. Your coily hair had fallen in your face as your plump lips stared back at him. How could he move you right now?

Instead...he tucked a throw blanket over you, the movement careful and clumsy all at once. He hesitated for half a second longer, then finally tore himself away.

—

Jay went upstairs to his room, leaving the door ajar subconsciously. He plopped down at his PC to load up with the guys.

“So what y’all been up to today?” Heeseung says in the mic.

Jungwon sighed, “Some fuck ass group project. Tell me how all of my classes got cancelled today and I had a meeting with my group for the project. And I didn’t go because…duh, I had no classes.”

Jay furrowed his brows at the logic but let him talk nonetheless.

“Then I get an email from my professor telling me that I haven’t been doing anything for the project. Like, dickhead I’ve been doing all the work!”

They all laughed at his anger which probably wasn’t something they should’ve been doing. But regardless, none of them cared. It wasn’t like Jungwon cared either.

“I love making you guys feel like shit over your problems.” Jake sighed dreamily as he rushed through the map.

Sunghoon remarked, “I think you’re just a bad person.”

“That too,” Jay said, half-distracted.

“Fuck you guys, anyway, Jay what did you do?” Jungwon smiled with a roll of his eyes.

Jay hadn’t exactly told the guys that you were coming over at all.

He paused, thumb hovering over the “Deploy” button as his teammates waited for his reply. He tapped his mic, clearing his throat. “I—um—she came over for the project. Said she had to observe me and whatnot so we just did that.”

Heeseung smirked, “Observed what exactly?”

He wiped his eyes beneath his glasses as they were itchy. “Just me. We didn’t do much—”

“Much?” Jungwon called out.

“Yeah, I just watched a—”

“Watched?” Sunghoon and Jake chimed in.

Jay burst out, “Bitch stop interrupting me!”

Laughter exploded through his headset, each one of his friends reveling in his rare outburst. Jay closed his eyes briefly, inhaling deeply as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Y’all are so fucking annoying,” he muttered.

“Okay, okay, we’re listening,” Jake said, but Jay could hear the barely contained amusement in his voice. “Continue, Mr. Observed.”

Jay sighed, clicking through his inventory absentmindedly. “We just watched a movie and now she’s just taking a nap.”

Silence. Too much silence.

Then—

“A movie?” Sunghoon drawled, dragging out the word like he was savoring it. “What kind of movie?”

Jay hesitated.

Jake gasped. “Nah. Nahhh. Don’t tell me you let her make you watch—”

“Starstruck,” Sunghoon cut in, deadpan. “You watched Starstruck, didn’t you?”

The silence stretched for a half-second too long.

Jay closed his eyes. “Shut up.”

Chaos erupted.

“No fucking way!” Jake howled. “That’s crazy! You—Park ‘I Only Watch Documentaries and War Films’ Jay—sat through Starstruck?”

“I’m sick,” Sunghoon wheezed. “Like, physically ill.”

“I need a second,” Heeseung said between laughs. “I can’t—”

Jay let them get it out of their system, clicking his tongue as he loaded up another round as he had died. They weren’t even playing together at this point, just playing at the same time. “You guys act like I haven’t done worse things.”

“Yeah, but this is so—random,” Jungwon wheezed. “Like, were you actually paying attention or were you just sitting there?”

Jay opened his mouth, closed it, then frowned. “It wasn’t that bad.”

Another wave of hysteria hit them.

Jake gasped. “Wait. Did you like it?”

“I tolerated it,” Jay corrected.

“No, bro, you liked it,” Sunghoon shot back. “Say it.”

Jay rolled his shoulders, his lips twitching. He wasn’t about to give them the satisfaction. “I’m focusing on the game.”

Heeseung laughed, “No, that girl will fall asleep standing up if you let her.”

Jake wiped fake tears. “I love this timeline. First, you’re buying mystery laptops, now you’re watching childhood rom-coms with her, bruh? What’s next? Matching pajamas?”

Jay froze, “Wait, what?” His hands froze on his keyboard and mouse.

He hadn’t told anyone about his deeds, the notes nor the laptop. Mainly out of fear of judgment, shame because that meant that some part of him liked you. But also because of the guilt of how he treated you and Jay wasn’t necessarily an affectionate person.

He just didn’t want to draw attention to himself, nor scare you off. Even though this situation could be considered stalking or maybe something that could make someone uncomfortable.

But if Jay didn’t know anything, he knew Jake. He knew that Jake was as nosy as a Toucan Sam and once he found something to sink his perfectly aligned teeth into, he wasn’t going to stop until he found out what he needed to.

“Don’t play dumb, I know.” He could practically hear the smirk in Jake’s voice.

Jay’s hands started shaking a bit, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” But of course, he tried to play it cool.

Jake snorted, “Yeah okay, and I’m the President.”

“Bro, for real, what are you talking about?” Jay pressed, voice steady but his knee was bouncing so hard under the desk he thought the floor might give out.

There was a pause—long enough for Jay’s anxiety to spike—then Jake spoke, casual, too casual.

“She told us in our group chat—”

Jungwon perked up, “Y’all have a group chat?!” He gaped at the new information, “Add me please!”

Heeseung brushed him off, “Shut up,”

Jungwon smacked his teeth, “I’ll get her soon, trust.”

Jake rolled his eyes, “No you won’t,”

Jay also laughed to himself, “Aren’t you like sixteen?”

Jungwon groaned in exasperation. “I’m two years younger than you guys, chill. Plus, young guys do it the best.”

Sunghoon sighed, “Jake, you were saying.”

Jake leaned in closer, lips to the mic. “Thank you,” he backed away. “Anyway, in the group chat she literally had a breakdown and threatened arson on Decelis because of her broken laptop. Like two days later, she somehow gets a brand new—better laptop with cute ass accessories? Especially when she was telling us how she couldn’t afford to buy a new one.”

The rest of them, sans Jay, hummed in understanding.

Jay was still refuting all claims, “That doesn’t prove it was me, I didn’t do that shit.”

Jake smacked his teeth, “Bro, we didn’t do it. I damn sure didn’t. Literally I saw her the other day, like a day after she got it and she told me she had to go into her savings to buy a new one. Which I know was a lie.”

Heeseung interjected, “How would you know?”

Sunghoon chimed in, now putting the pieces together. “Because if she had the money she wouldn’t have complained about not being able to afford a new one. Whining about the inconvenience, yeah that makes sense. But she would’ve just replaced it that same or next day.”

Heeseung hummed, “Yeah, that makes sense. She wouldn’t have gone without if she knew she could just get a new one immediately. Her mood was horrible for the entire two days she didn’t have it.”

Jay stayed silent, his throat dry. His friends’ casual deductions were piecing everything together too cleanly, too quickly.

“And not just any laptop, either,” Jake said, practically grinning through the mic. “A fucking Macbook Air with the custom shit, bro. Like, pink keyboard cover, matching case, cute little charms—”

Heeseung cut in, “Wait, charms? Like, keychain charms?”

“No, dumbass,” Jake said, laughing. “Laptop charms. Like a lil’ matching aesthetic.”

Sunghoon whistled. “Yeah, nah. That’s intentional.”

Heeseung agreed, “You don’t accidentally buy that kind of shit unless you’re trying to impress.”

“Or if someone feels guilty…” Jungwon mumbled off-handedly.

Jay’s heart punched against his ribs so hard he almost couldn’t hear the rest of the conversation.

Guilty. That sounded about right.

He flexed his fingers on the mouse, willing his hand to stop shaking. His throat tightened like he’d swallowed a stone.

Heeseung must’ve caught on to the tension because he went, “Damn. It’s that serious?” He wasn’t there for the conversation about what he had said to you during y’alls last session. But Sunghoon had filled him in and needless to say, Jay definitely got another earful from him.

Saying someone should ‘get better at begging’ after talking about economic disparities, wasn’t exactly something that could brag about. And the fact that you were still nice to him after that only added salt to the wound.

If he didn’t feel bad then something was definitely wrong with him, more so than what was already.

But at this point, his pride was entirely too much to admit that some part of him liked you. Even before this, he thought you were out of his league. Intimidating. And the only way he could combat the budding interest in you was by acting uninterested.

So he couldn’t stop now.

The silence on Jay’s end stretched on, suffocating, but he forced out a scoff, light and dismissive. “You guys sound insane.”

Sunghoon snorted, “If we’re insane, it’s because you drove us there with your denial.”

Jake chuckled lowly. “Just admit it, man. It’s not even a bad thing.”

Jay clicked around idly, pretending to load his next weapon loadout, pretending he wasn’t breaking out in a cold sweat. “There’s nothing to admit.”

Heeseung’s voice softened a little, losing some of its usual teasing edge. “You don’t gotta lie to us, bro. You’re allowed to like somebody, you know.”

Jay pressed his tongue against the back of his teeth, swallowing words that felt too heavy to say out loud. Like somebody. That sounded so…simple. Easy.

But it wasn’t. Not for him.

Because liking you came with consequences. With vulnerabilities he wasn’t ready to show. With guilt for every sharp word, every dismissive glance, every time he chose to push you away instead of pulling you closer.

Jungwon piped up again, voice thoughtful. “Honestly, if you did get her the laptop, that’s, like…one of the nicest things I’ve ever seen you do.”

As Jay heard them all politic and conspire around him, anger grew in the pit of his stomach. “I told you I didn’t do it. And I don’t like her like that. You guys spent like twenty minutes badgering me to admit that she’s hot and I told you she was but she’s not my type and I wouldn’t waste money on some peppy, desperate cheerleader.”

The call fell silent and tension grew in the air at Jay’s outburst. Even though they couldn’t see each other, Jake nodded with a defeated sigh. He knew better than to take heed to anything that Jay was saying right now. He was trying more so to convince himself rather than them. So he let it go.

Though unbeknownst to any of them, you were walking up the stairs to find Jay and were made privy to his words.

You froze at the top of the stairs.

You hadn’t meant to eavesdrop—you hadn’t even realized you could hear them until it was already too late. Until the words had already ripped through you.

I wouldn’t waste money on some peppy, desperate cheerleader.

Your fingers tightened around the strap of your bag before you even realized you were moving.

Not running—that would’ve looked desperate.

Not crying—that would’ve given him too much.

Just…packing up. Quiet, mechanical. Like you were never there in the first place.

You could still hear them upstairs, muffled and awkward now, but you tuned it all out, your heart pounding in your ears as you shoved your laptop, charger, coloring books, pencils, markers into your tote. Your jacket slipped on and the sweats he gave you now folded neatly on the couch as yours were already on.

You didn’t have a ride, but you didn’t care. You just needed to get away before you embarrassed yourself further.

The door clicked shut behind you, soft and final.

And then you were walking. Down the driveway, past the cars, past the basketball hoop, past the old street lamps humming in the early evening air. You didn’t even check your phone until you were three blocks away, until you were sure nobody was going to come after you.

Even though, deep down, you already knew he wouldn’t.

—

At first, Jay didn’t notice.

The game restarted. His headset buzzed with chatter. He wiped his palms on his own sweats and leaned back in his chair, trying to shove down the ugly feeling clawing up his throat.

“Whatever,” he muttered under his breath.

He figured you were still downstairs, maybe still napping.

And when Heeseung joked, “Damn, she’s still asleep?”

“Not sure, let me check.” He ripped the headset off without a word and jogged down the stairs, two at a time. Then made a right to the living room.

Empty.

The fort was no more, your stuff was gone, the pants he’d lent you folded beautifully on the couch. You even put their chairs used for the fort back to their original place.

It was like you had erased yourself.

Jay’s heart stuttered.

“No way,” he breathed, turning in a slow circle, like maybe he’d missed you somehow. Like maybe you were hiding. “No, no, no, no—”

He rushed to the window, throwing the curtain aside. Nothing. Street empty. No car. No you.

A cold sweat broke out across his back.

He sprinted to the door, ignoring how loud his stomping was and yanked open the front door, stepping out into the street barefoot. His eyes scanned everywhere, frantic.

But you were gone.

Gone.

And all at once, the weight of what he said—what you heard—crashed over him. The ugly words he had thrown out to save face.

To protect himself.

And he realized, sickly, that protecting himself had cost him the one thing he hadn’t even let himself want until now.

You.

—

As he went back into his house, sullen and gloomy as ever—game long forgotten. Jay went to scan the living room one more time, just hoping that you would appear. Maybe you were just pranking him, that’s something you would do.

He plopped down on the couch, looking around and sighed painfully. Covering his eyes with his hands as it took everything in him to not demolish everything in this room.

But no, he had more self-control than that.

Jay gathered himself, scanned the room one more time and his eyes fell on your journal.

Jay’s eyes flicked back to your journal on the coffee table. It sat innocently there, untouched, a silent witness to everything that had just happened. His heart pounded with an unsettling mixture of guilt, curiosity, and frustration.

He had no right to open it. None at all. But as the minutes passed, the pull to understand you more—to fix this somehow—grew unbearable. His fingers twitched, itching for something to give him the answers he couldn’t seem to find on his own.

What had you been writing in there? Was it about him? Was he the villain in your story now? He sure felt like it.

With a heavy sigh, Jay leaned forward, grabbing the journal. His mind screamed at him to stop, to just put it back where it belonged, but his hands had already opened the first page.

The handwriting was neat, beautiful even, but there was an undeniable rawness to it—words that weren't meant for anyone else to read. He couldn’t stop himself. His eyes skimmed the first few lines, and something heavy settled in his chest.

“He told me I should get better at begging.”

Jay froze. His breath hitched. The words were simple, but the weight of them hit him like a punch to the gut. He didn’t even want to recall that day, but it seemed like it was all he could think of these days.

He kept reading, each line pulling him deeper into your mind. Your pain was written in stark black ink—raw, honest.

“I don’t understand why he keeps pushing me away. Every time I think we’re getting somewhere, he pulls back. But it’s like he doesn’t even care. I just don’t get it. Why does he act like I’m not worth his time? Maybe it’s because I’m used to getting attention that I just don’t know how to act when I’m dismissed?”

The words stung. Jay had never thought of himself as someone who could hurt people. But now, reading this, he realized just how much damage he’d caused without even realizing it. He wasn’t the same person he’d thought he was.

“I miss the days when I didn’t care what people thought of me. Now, it’s like every time I see him, I feel like I’m walking on eggshells, hoping he’ll look at me, talk to me, not act like I’m invisible. Am I too much? Or am I not enough?”

Jay shut his eyes for a moment, the weight of your words crushing him. He felt like he was drowning in all the things he’d never noticed, all the things he’d pushed aside in favor of hiding behind his pride.

The journal seemed endless, each entry within the last few weeks about him or about things he’d never even seen. But one thing was clear: you had been hurting for far longer than he’d ever realized. You weren’t the peppy cheerleader he’d always dismissed. You were someone who had quietly endured every time he pushed you away, every time he made you feel like you weren’t worth his attention.

Beneath the shell, you were just a girl that wanted to be validated.

Beneath the stunning, gorgeous shell of you, there was just a little girl that wasn’t told she was enough. And he hadn’t even cared enough to ask or pay more attention.

He swallowed hard, unable to continue. His fingers were trembling, the journal still open in his hands.

But there was something else, something that caught his eye. A final entry that was left today:

“I’m observing Jay today, and he’s being nice and it’s kinda freaking me out. But he’s being his typical, geeky self and watching some documentary and I’ll say it is interesting. But his home is very beautiful, very him. A part of me feels like I don’t deserve to be here. But I know that he’s been so mean to me for no good reason, but I’ve still tried to be nice. “Being mean doesn’t get you anywhere” daddy always says. So I’ve tried to be respectful, which I think I’ve done a nice job of. As much as this is just one person, I really do want him to like me. Some parts of me want to just say fuck him and that he doesn’t matter. But I also wanna fuck him so it does matter.”

Jay cracks a smile at this, but he decides to keep reading.

“Seriously though, he seems to be a great friend to the other guys. I just wish for one day where he can be good to me.”

Jay felt his breath catch in his throat. This was it. The final blow.

It wasn’t just about the laptop. It was about all the moments he’d let you down, brushed you off, all the ways he’d treated you as disposable. He had been so focused on pushing his feelings down, so convinced that he needed to guard himself, that he’d never noticed how much you were giving just to stay close to him.

And now, as he sat there, holding your journal with the weight of all his mistakes pressing down on him, he realized that he had nothing left to protect. Not anymore.

The journal slipped from his hands, landing softly on the table. Jay ran his hands through his hair, his thoughts spiraling.

Jay sat there, the weight of the journal in his lap. His fingers were still trembling, but now it wasn’t from the act of reading. It was from the shame, the sudden suffocating realization that he had done this to you. That he was the one who had been unkind, who had kept you at arm’s length while you silently endured.

A hollow feeling spread through him, worse than any disappointment or anger he’d ever known. It was the feeling of finally understanding the damage he’d caused, of realizing that he’d been blind to something so painfully obvious. He had dismissed you as just another part of his world to ignore, never once stopping to wonder why you might be so desperate for his attention.

He could still hear your voice in his head. The little things you’d said over the past few weeks, the hints he had brushed off. The way you made the effort to show kindness, even when it wasn’t reciprocated.

“Maybe it’s because I’m used to getting attention that I just don’t know how to act when I’m dismissed?” Those words echoed in his mind, and the guilt twisted harder.

He had always been caught up in his own world, too proud, too distant to even ask you how you were really doing. He was so absorbed in his own insecurities, in his self-imposed walls, that he never bothered to notice yours.

And now...now, it was too late. He had let this slip through his fingers.

The entry about him being “nice” to you hit like a punch to the gut. He could see it—you trying to make the best of a situation where he was cruel. And yet, despite everything, you still wanted him to like you.

He had seen the cracks in you, but had he ever tried to help fill them? No. He had been too wrapped up in his pride, in his need to keep distance.

With a low curse under his breath, Jay ran his hand through his hair again, standing up abruptly. He couldn’t sit here anymore. He needed to do something, anything, to stop this feeling from crushing him entirely.

But what could he do? What could he even say?

The room was too quiet. The silence hung heavy between him and everything he had just discovered. He had been the one pushing you away. He had been the one making you feel invisible.

He looked at the journal one last time. A small part of him wanted to close it, to forget about it, but the rest of him knew that was no longer an option. He couldn’t keep pretending this was someone else’s fault.

The answer was simple, but it felt impossible.

He had to apologize.

—

Jay spent the rest of the night replaying the journal entry in his head. The weight of what he’d read crushed him, but it also woke something up in him—something that had been buried beneath his pride and self-protection. He knew that he needed to change. Not for anyone else, but for you, and for himself.

The next day, he found himself standing outside your 10:30 class. It wasn’t planned. He hadn’t figured out the right words yet. He just...knew he couldn’t stay in the same place anymore. With his heart hammering, he waited for everyone to file out. His mind raced, but luckily he was tall enough to be able to see everyone, then his eyes landed on you and he hurriedly approached you. Stopping in front of you and not caring if he had bumped into other people.

You let out a grunt at the thud that your shoulder had made with his firm chest. But you had quickly gripped your tablet that was in danger of falling, but luckily your reflexes won. You looked up to see a tall man with glasses and dark hair, oh…him. “Jay, what the fuck?” You rubbed your sensitive shoulder. Doing the sport that you do, you’re no stranger to taking a few tumbles. But his chest might as well have been made of steel.

He held up his hands in panic, “Sorry!”

The tension in the air was thick, and Jay immediately regretted the way he’d approached you, but there was no turning back now. He could feel the rush of anxiety in his chest, but he forced himself to stand firm, his gaze locking with yours.

“I didn’t mean to...I just…” He trailed off, unsure how to finish the sentence. The words he had rehearsed a thousand times in his head felt foreign now, his mouth dry, and his heart hammering.

You eyed him suspiciously, still holding your tablet close. He could see the mixture of confusion and frustration in your expression. You were trying to keep your cool, but it was obvious something was off.

“What do you want?” You asked, your voice firm, and Jay felt a pang of guilt deep in his gut. You didn’t trust him anymore—he’d made sure of that.

Jay exhaled sharply, his hands running through his hair in frustration. He could see the way you were holding yourself, trying to keep your distance. And damn it, he deserved it. He knew this wasn’t going to be easy.

“I—um…” He played with the hem of his form-fitting black long-sleeve. Trying to work up the courage to speak, or even look you in the eye.

You sighed, “I can’t do this with you right now, I have a class in fifteen minutes and it’s all the way on the south-end of campus. If you’ll excuse me,” You said as you brushed past him.

Jay watched you step away, the gentle sound of your footsteps against the pavement echoing in his ears. His heart clenched. He had expected this—shit, he deserved it—but that didn’t make it any easier. He watched you for a moment, conflicted, as you began to walk toward the next building.

What if this was it? What if you never gave him a chance to fix anything?

The thought hit him like a punch to the chest.

Before he could stop himself, he was moving again, this time with more urgency in his steps. He hated the way his own hesitation had kept him from being the person he needed to be before. He hated how many times he had let you down.

“Wait!” Jay called out, his voice louder than before, his pulse racing in his throat.

You didn’t stop. But there was a slight pause in your stride. He saw it. He wasn’t sure if it was out of curiosity or frustration, but it was there.

He took it as a sign.

Jay quickened his pace until he was beside you again, walking beside you as you left out of the building, still unsure how to breach the gap he’d created between you two. He swallowed, trying to steady his nerves. “Look, I—I’m sorry.” The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could even stop them. “I know I’ve been a jerk to you. And I know I’ve made everything worse, but I...I just need you to hear me out.”

You stopped walking, but you looked at him with complete disgust. Jay retracted a bit as he saw the look in your eye. He’d never seen you look at anyone like that ever. Unless it was a smile, laugh, or maybe a playful glare at Jake then anything else seemed like foreign terrain. He could feel the weight of your silence pressing on him, but he didn’t back off.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me. I know you don’t even want to talk to me right now,” Jay continued, feeling the frustration and desperation in his words. “But I read something I shouldn’t have. I said something I shouldn’t have. And I’m not here to make excuses. I just...I need you to know that I’m sorry for all of it. For pushing you away. For acting like you didn’t matter when you did. And I hate that I made you feel invisible.”

You didn’t say anything. You didn’t even move.

“I don’t expect anything from you,” he added quickly, his voice cracking slightly. “But I need to be better, for you...and for me. And I get it if you don’t want to talk. I know I don’t deserve it. But I just couldn’t leave without saying this.”

He reached into his backpack, shuffling through it frantically as if he were afraid you’d walk away mid sentence. Eventually, he pulls out your journal and your eyes widen at the fact that he read your own private thoughts.

You snatch it from him, even though the damage had already been done. He read it already, but somehow you felt that holding it to your chest would magically erase the words he’d read.

In any other case Jay would be irritated that someone had snatched something from him. But couldn’t even utter a word, he just stood there—as resigned as he could be. Nonetheless, he gestured to the book. “In case you were wondering…I bought the laptop.”

You already had an inkling, but the fact that you were getting confirmation had made your heart drop to your stomach. A knot forming there and in your throat as you were at a loss for words. You still weren’t able to speak.

“The invoice is in there if you don’t believe me. And I gave you the math notes too.”

Your grip on the journal tightened, but the weight of it felt unbearable in your hands. You were still reeling from the fact that he had read your private thoughts, your most personal reflections, and yet here he was—standing in front of you, holding out a piece of your life like some kind of... offering.

A slow wave of disbelief washed over you, and for a moment, you could only stare at the journal in your hands, as if hoping the pages would disappear. Or that the situation would change—just reverse itself.

Jay didn’t move. He stood there, waiting for your reaction, but the silence between you was suffocating. He had just broken something. He had crossed a line he couldn’t uncross, and you knew, deep down, that it wasn’t just about the journal. It was about everything that had led to this moment. All the little things. The moments he pulled away. The things he didn’t say. The things he didn’t care enough to notice.

You couldn’t even look at him. You didn’t want to. You weren’t sure if you could. The tension in the air was thick, like you were standing at the edge of something you weren’t ready to face yet.

The silence dragged on, and Jay shifted his weight uncomfortably. “I—uh, I wasn’t sure how to tell you all of it, but the invoice...it’s in there,” he said quietly, his voice hesitant, almost unsure. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I just wanted to help.”

Your voice came out, raw and nearly obsolete. “Why?”

He groaned as he put his head in his hands, his rings glimmering in the sunlight. “The notes, it—I’ve always liked you. This feeling I couldn’t explain—just…attraction. And one day, I was in the cafe and I overheard you speaking to your mom about you having trouble with math. I had taken the class before so I just thought giving you my notes would help. I felt bad because I couldn’t not do anything. So I just printed them out and attached your email. That’s it.”

Tears started to mist your eyes, clutching your book and tablet closer to your chest. “The laptop?”

Jay was quick to explain, “After our first session, I had hurt you really badly with that ‘begging’ comment. I still haven’t apologized to you for that and I’m sorry but, you came on the chat and you were really upset. I thought it was just my way to give back to you.” He stepped forward, putting a small distance between you. To which you were nailed right to where you stood. You were too shaken to move.

The air between you two was thick with the weight of his words, the confession, the apology—and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to let go of the journal. It felt like the only thing keeping you tethered to something solid in the storm that had suddenly engulfed you.

You couldn’t speak for a long time, your throat tight, your chest aching with the conflicting emotions that swirled inside you. Jay was still standing there, his body tense, eyes searching your face as if he could find a way to undo everything he’d done.

“I never wanted to hurt you,” he continued softly, his voice breaking just slightly. “I never meant to cross any lines. I thought I could make it right, but I see now... that maybe all I’ve done is make things worse.”

His words felt like a quiet admission of guilt, and for a moment, you just stood there, unable to reconcile what he was saying with the hurt that still lingered inside you. All those moments, all those interactions—you felt as though they were being rewritten in this very instant. Could you forgive him for everything that had built up to this?

You squeezed your eyes shut, taking a deep breath, and when you opened them again, you finally spoke, your voice shaky but filled with the weight of everything you had been holding back.

“Why didn’t you just...talk to me?” you asked quietly, the pain of the question evident in your tone. “Why did you have to hide behind these...gestures? Why did you think giving me things would fix everything?”

Jay flinched at your words, guilt flashing across his face. “I didn’t know how to talk to you. I thought—I thought I could do something to show you I cared without saying it. I’m not good with words. I’m not good at explaining myself, and I’ve always been good at running from things instead of facing them. But I know now that I’ve been running from this, from you. And I can’t do that anymore.”

You smile bitterly, “So you call me perky and desperate to your friends.”

He shook his head, “No, no, no—”

“Don’t try to deny it, I heard you. You said ‘I wouldn’t waste money on some peppy, desperate cheerleader.’ That came out of your mouth, Jay.” You looked away from him.

“I’m not trying to deny it. I did say that—I was—” He sighed, closing his eyes to get a hold of himself. “The guys kept bothering me about the laptop and I just wanted them to st—”

You laughed bitterly, this sent something through you. “So a simple ‘I didn’t do it’ would have sufficed. But no, you always have to go for the jugular don’t you?”

“Please, I didn’t—”

You held up your hand, “No, Jay. If you wanted to keep it a secret then that’s fine, it doesn’t make me a fucking difference. But not at my expense.” You slowly back up, “Since you read my fucking journal, I guess there’s no secrets so I don’t have anything to hide anymore. But I’m so done with getting you to like me. I will not be weighed down by this anymore and it’s not even your fault. It’s me, I won’t hold you accountable for my insecurities but I will be damned if I let any man make me feel like I’m not the baddest bitch walking.” You ball your fist that settled on your journal in your hand. “I’ll finish the project with what I have, I’ll leave you alone. You don’t have to worry about me anymore, Jay.”

The words hit Jay like a punch to the gut. Each one cut deeper than he could have anticipated, and his stomach twisted with regret. He opened his mouth to respond, but every time he tried to speak, his words stuck. There was no defense, no justification that could make this right. He had hurt you, plain and simple.

You were fierce, no denying that. Your words were sharp, but they weren’t meant to tear him apart—no, they were meant to protect yourself. And Jay knew it. He had pushed you to this point.

“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. But even as he said it, he knew it wasn’t enough. It couldn’t undo what he’d done, couldn’t erase the damage.

But you weren’t waiting for his apologies anymore. You were standing there, eyes fierce, jaw set, making it clear that you were done.

“Goodbye, Jay.” Your voice was steady now, cold even, and the finality in it made Jay’s chest tighten with something heavier than guilt.

You turned away from him, the journal still clutched tightly in your hand, and he stood frozen. He wanted to call after you, to beg you not to leave, but he couldn’t find the strength to move. He knew it was over. And he knew that this time, you were walking away for good.

He watched you go, each step you took like a door closing that he would never be able to open again.

And in the silence that followed, Jay realized that the worst part wasn’t the apology he hadn’t given or the damage he had done. It was the fact that he had made you feel so small, so desperate for his attention, that you had to pull away completely just to hold onto yourself.

It was his fault.

For the first time, he understood what it meant to truly lose someone.

part 2

#enhypen #enhypen x reader #kpop x black reader #enhypen fic #kpop #park jay #park jay x reader #jake sim #kpop fics #OMG Z POSTING ?????

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