5secondsoftees - Tumblr blog

5secondsoftees · 3 months ago

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You all like kpop?

Maroon- C.B

Disclaimer: smut, toxic relationship (idk what else to call it), scratches and cuts (nothing too serious).

Word count: 20.1k

Playlist (guys this playlist is the whole core of this story, really 😭)

Note: Happy Beomgyu day!!! Today, 24 years ago, this beautiful soul was born. He makes me smile, he makes me laugh, he even made me choke on water when he came back from vacations. I love everything about him from his physical features to his funny side but also his emotional one. I love him so much 😭 this is my first year celebrating his bday but i hope i can celebrate many more. Enjoy this little silly fic i made for celebrating the day 🫶

Thank you @nanahachi3 for letting me use a little of your drama in my story. The rest of it is basically based on my pathetic love life 👍

The bell rings, loud and persistent, signaling the start of the last first period of the semester. A sea of students moves through the hallways, heading for their classrooms, arms linked with their friends, talking about their summer plans, filled with excitement for the ending of the semester. But you— you remain still, eyes fixed on the two figures in front of you.

On her, leaning against the wall, and on him, with his hand pressed against it just above her head, cornering her.The depth in their gaze, the soft smiles they share, the gentle way his hand holds her chin, drawing her closer— it hurts. Their happiness pierces you, almost cuts you physically.

Your vision blurs, and the rest of the hallway spins, like a faded memory of an old dream, in which you can barely see, barely understand anything. Your skin feels the warmth of tears, rolling down, salty, dripping from your jaw. Your fingers loosen around the strap of your bag, and your feet move in the opposite direction. Fast. Running away, as far as possible from him— Jeon Wonwoo.

As you roam without direction through the almost endless college hallway, you ask yourself why— why you care so much about this? After all, Wonwoo is just a nerd who only cares about two things: his physics book and his stupid band— Seventeen. And well… now, about her too. But who cares, right? You’re more than he deserves. You’re smart, funny, beautiful, the best in class— everyone agrees. You have your own friends, your own projects to take care of, to focus on, things far more important than a boring boy like him. And yet… why does it hurt so much that he chose her and not you?

Apparently, you care.

The tears and the run make your lungs burn, so you stop and lean your hands on your knees, trying to catch your breath. You inhale deeply, telling yourself it's not worth it crying over him, when you realize where your feet have led you— the campus skatepark, the "home" of the skaters. Those long haired boys, with their baggy clothes, attractive faces, and ridiculously stupid minds. You’ve never understood why anyone would do something as dangerous as skateboarding for fun— it doesn’t make sense. You straighten your back and let out a sarcastic chuckle, “Pathetic”. Then, you turn to walk away, but suddenly, everything around you spins again, and you feel your body being pulled back.

Like in a freefall, you’re about to hit the ground, with nothing to do but close your eyes, protect your head, and pray no one sees or records your fall. That’s what you do, closing your eyes and waiting to feel the concrete hit your ass. But then, you feel everything stop. You feel a strong arm wrapped around your waist and a fruity and floral scent of pomegranate with yuzu and peony with magnolia, alluring your senses. You slowly open your eyes to see an angelic face, yet carrying an expression of concern. His long, black hair with highlights sticks to his sweaty forehead, and his brown eyes scan your face, trying to decipher something.

For a moment, you think you’ve died and ended up in paradise, because the man in front of you doesn’t seem real, and even the exact moment he appeared doesn’t seem real, “Are you okay, miss?”. His voice is deep, husky and carries the same concern as his expression. You open your mouth and close it repeatedly, unsure of what to say, “D-did I... die?”. Of course when you manage to say something, it's a silly question. But he doesn’t seem to agree, because he laughs, “No. Don’t worry, you’re still alive”, he says with a playful tone before helping you straighten up, “Not sure if that’s a good thing,” you mutter, “Hum?” “Nothing, never mind”. You straighten your skirt and look around, trying to figure out what happened to make you slip like that, “What happened?”, you ask.

He gulps and rubs the back of his neck, “Well… you kinda... hum, tripped over my skateboard”, his voice fades as he finishes the sentence, “Sorry about that”. Your eyes spot the skateboard under his arm, “Oh. You skateboard?”, there’s disdain in your tone, but he doesn’t seem to care. “Yeah! Want to see some tricks?”, he says excited, like a kid who just got a birthday present, “No, thanks” “Oh, come on! Just a few tricks. As an apology” “I don’t see how that could be an apology…” “Great! Check it out”. He interrupts you, pointing to the skate park, “But I didn’t say that…”, but he’s no longer listening. He walks past you, gives you a tap on the shoulder, and heads to the ramp.

You roll your eyes and cross your arms as you turn to watch him, “What’s up with this guy? Just because he’s ridiculously good looking and caught me like in a movie scene, he thinks I’m gonna stay here watching him show off while he risks cracking his head open and dying?”. He waves at you from a distance, you huff and cross your arms as he places the skateboard on the ground and steps on it, getting ready for the trick.

He kicks off with his right foot, and his body disappears down the bowl, “Well… he’s so wrong”. You prepare to turn around and leave, but just as he reappears— almost flying, with one hand raised to the sky and the other holding the skateboard— your jaw hits the floor immediately. Your arms uncross, hanging loosely by your sides, “Or maybe… not so much”. He repeats the trick, this time extending his arm and making a hang loose sign and giving you a goofy grin. You can’t help but laugh. But when the skateboard hits the ramp again, it slips and the skater boy falls into the bowl. The loud bang echoes through the area.

You gasp, covering your mouth with your hand before rushing to him, calling out, “Oh my god! Hey, are you okay?!”. Reaching the top of the ramp, you find his body sprawled on the bowl with the skateboard beside him and his hands resting on his stomach— laughing. Laughing loudly, like a psycho. “W-what…?”, you say, completely confused, “Are you okay?” “Okay?! I’m great, that was insane!”. You roll your eyes— it's typical of a skater to say something like that, “You’re crazy! I thought you died!”. He laughs even harder, even louder. The guy might be nuts, but seeing him laugh so genuinely like that makes something in your chest stir— a laugh? You don’t know how or why, but his laugh is so contagious that you start laughing as a crackhead, just like him.

He opens his eyes, holding his belly from laughing so much, and watches you laugh— the way your shoulders shakes and your eyes become two flat lines as you smile and laugh so brightly captivates him. “You look beautiful when you laugh like that,” he blurts out, without thinking much. You look at him, remains of laughter still in your throat, “What was that?” “You look beautiful when you laugh like that” “Did the fall mess with your sense of reason, man?” “No. You just are”. You blush. How could a guy like him think something like that about you? You clear your throat and quickly change the subject, “Look! You’re bleeding”, you point to his elbow. He glances at it but doesn’t seem to care, used to it, “It’s just a scratch” ““But it’s an open wound, it can get infected. Let me take care of it… as a thank you for not letting me fall”.

He smiles, not caring about infection, but amused by the fact that you care, “Okay, okay. You can take care of my wound”. You straighten your back, satisfied, then extend your hand to help him up, “Let’s go then…”, he smiles playfully, completely charmed about you, and takes your hand, “Beomgyu. But you can just call me Gyu”.

Beomgyu follows you to your locker like a puppy trailing its owner. He watches you with curious, attentive eyes, as if you were some new creature and he is a researcher studying you while you take a first aid kit out of your locker. He chuckles, "What?" "I can't believe you keep a first aid kit in your locker” "You don’t?", you say nonchalantly, "Of course not" "Well, you should. From what I see, you get hurt often”, your eyes scan his arms, covered in scars, marks, and band-aids. Embarrassed, he quickly covers them with his hands, "Come on, let me see your elbow”, he bends his arm, showing you the wound. You take a sharp breath, "That looks pretty bad” "But you're going to take care of me, aren't you?", he pouts, "If you stay still, I will". He chuckles again, watching as you grab an antiseptic spray and a cotton pad, "This is going to sting," you warn, "That’s fine, I’m tough" "Alright, then". You press the spray lightly, not even releasing anything yet, but he instantly flinches. You raise an eyebrow at him, "Weren’t you tough?" "I am… That was just a reflex” "Sure" "I think I'd feel better if you held my hand," he says, grinning, "Are you serious? You literally flew on that skateboard, and you're scared of antiseptic?" "The skateboard doesn’t sting". You can’t help but laugh, "I promise to stay still if you let me hold your hand” "Promise?", he holds out his pinky finger. You stare at his outstretched finger, "Put that down and stay still, bro. I ain’t gonna hold your hand”, he pouts again, but you couldn't care less. Seeing no other choice, he finally gives in and shows you his injured elbow again.

You finally press the spray and quickly place the cotton underneath to prevent the medicine and blood from running down his entire arm. The antiseptic stings upon contact with his wound, you can tell by the grimace he makes. So you gently blow on it, trying to ease his agony a little. To anyone passing by, you look completely normal, just a girl blowing on a scraped elbow. But to Beomgyu, you’re almost a mirage— no one, besides his mom, has ever cared enough to check on an open wound or offered to clean it for him. Usually, he just washed it in the shower and slapped a bandage on top. But you— you’re right here, applying antiseptic, blowing softly, carefully, like a small, beautiful angel that fell from the sky, that he just happened to break the fall.

And he doesn’t even know your name.

"You haven’t told me your name” "Yn. You can call me that" "Yn”, he repeats, your name echoing down the hallway in his voice, sending a chill down your spine. "What do you study?" "Medicine” "Really?! So you’re literally doctor Yn” "I will be someday” "That explains a lot", he mumbles. You apply the ointment with a cotton swab, thinking about how annoying he is, "Ow!" "Sorry”, you soften your touch. But he doesn’t stop with his annoying questions, "Why aren’t you in class, Yn?" "Why aren’t you in class?", you say without looking up from what you’re doing. He smirks, "Touché", he stays quiet for a few rare seconds, watching as you carefully place a band-aid over his wound. "Is it because of the same reason you were crying?", your eyes snap up to meet his, your face carefully composed, and then— you lie. "I wasn’t crying”, his gaze is sharp, almost as if he could pull the truth straight out of you just by looking. So, you avoid his eyes and focus on organizing your first-aid kit instead. But he doesn't give up, "You were. Your eyes were red and puffy” "It's just… something got in my eye”, he smirks, crossing his arms and leaning against the lockers. "Sure… You failed a test?", you look at him, offended, "I’m a top student. I have a merit scholarship and I’m a member of the cardiology student association. I don’t fail tests”. He laughs, "Oh, my bad. Forget I said anything”. He goes silent for a few more seconds— something rare that doesn't last long, "Did someone say something to you, then?" You roll your eyes, slam your locker shut, and turn to him. "No, Beomgyu! No one said anything." "I told you to call me Gyu." "We’re not friends." "But I want to be." You cross your arms, stepping forward with a challenging look. "Who said I want to be your friend?" He holds your gaze, matching your challenge with even more intensity. "You do. I can see it in your eyes." You try to look away again, but you can’t. Something inexplicable keeps you locked in his stare. "See? I’m irresistible, aren’t I?" "You’re just cocky, that’s what you are." He grins, but something flashes in his eyes— just for a second, before he mumbles, "Yeah... cocky. That’s all I am” "What was that? “Can’t I want a thoughtful, smart, and gorgeous girl around, huh?". You giggle shyly, blushing against your will. He loves to have that power over you, "So? What do you say? Friends?" He extends his hand, and without even knowing why, you take it. Maybe it’s his undeniable charm, or maybe it’s the fact that you won’t have to see him for the next 3 months, "Friends”.

“Rise and shine, you trainwreck!”

The first thing you hear in the morning is Yunah’s, your best friend, voice practically shaking the walls. You groan, sitting up in bed, still groggy with sleep. Your hair is a mess, your face is marked by the pillow. She comes running out of the bathroom, a bikini in one hand and a bottle of sunscreen in the other, "For the love of God, get up!", Yunah practically jumps on your bed, shaking your shoulder like she’s trying to wake you up from a nightmare .

You yawn, still half asleep, "What the hell, Yunah… it's 6 in the morning” "It’s almost 10", she corrects, throwing the bikini in your face, "And today is the day!". You take the piece of fabric off your face and stare at her like she lost her mind, "The day I get suffocated by my own bikini?" "What?! No! I mean… maybe, but no! You need to get ready, we have to go out!" "Go where?" "To the event of the century!". You blink slowly, "Yunah, if this is another hippie bazaar where you force me to buy energy crystal necklaces, I swear…" "It’s not!". She kneels on the bed and raises the sunscreen bottle like a villain about to start a monologue. "Today is the day we enjoy summer, and I am not letting you bury yourself under blankets like a depressed sea turtle!".

You blink. Then blink again. Then yawn and curl back on the bed, "Too late" "But Yn you don’t get it!". She pops the sunscreen bottle open with a little too much enthusiasm, and in an almost cinematic disaster, a jet of white lotion shoots straight to your forehead. Silence fills the room. You close your eyes, feeling the sticky mess slowly sliding down your eyebrow. Yunah’s eyes widen, her mouth opening in slow realization, "It’s fine. I can fix this" "I'm going to kill you," you say, completely serious. She throws herself off the bed before you can grab her, laughing as she yells, "Not before I force you to have fun!".

You and Yunah are on a beach on the east coast, where you’ll be spending the 2 next weeks in a paradisiacal bungalow along with Huening Kai, the missing piece of your 3 pieces puzzle, who is staying for a few days with his sisters. The following weeks will be all about no worries. No studying, no medicine— just sun, the beach, friends, and relaxation. And the best part? No boys.

Yunah is lying on her beach towel, sunglasses on, her body relaxed as she bathes in the sunlight, soaking up vitamin D. You’re beside her, lying on your stomach, reading a new romance novel while enjoying your sunbathing session, until— a volleyball lands right in the middle of your book. She pushes her sunglasses down to her nose and quickly sits up, her mouth parting in indignation, “What the hell is this?! Who do they think we are, huh!? These half assed volleyball players!” “Calm down, Yun. It was probably an accident”, you say, turning to her, “Calm down?! They almost took my bestie’s head off, and you want me to stay calm?! The last thing I’m gonna be is calm!”. You chuckle— she’s a drama queen, but it’s cute that she cares about you.

The sound of footsteps coming from the horizon catches both of your attention. You look in its direction, a tall male figure comes running towards the two of you, his black shoulder length hair, porcelain skin, and toned body give him away immediately— “Yeonjun?!”, you both say in unison, not expecting to see him out of the university hallways. He smiles apologetically, running his fingers through his soft hair, “Hey, girls… Sorry about the ball”. You glance at Yunah, she’s no longer angry as before– Yeonjun has this strange, soothing effect on everyone. All it takes is for him to speak, to glance in a certain way, and everything just calms down, falls into place. As if the way he talks, the way he looks at people, is some kind of calming spell. You know it because you’re just as much a victim of it as Yunah is.

He looks at you and smiles, “Hey, Yn!” “Hi, Yeonjun” “Sorry for interrupting your reading, the serve kinda got out of control”, he scratches the back of his neck, embarrassed. You smile back at him, “It’s fine, Jjunie”, you say, tossing the ball back to him, “No worries”. You and Yeonjun have known each other since the beginning of the year when you had a practical suturing class at the university hospital and, well… he was your first patient. Choi Yeonjun is a fashion student who loves extreme sports, and on that particular day, he almost tore his arm in half while rock climbing with a group. He sat on the stretcher in front of you and told you stories about his adventures, and since then, you two have been friends— though no one really knows just how close you are.

“No problem at all, Yeonjunnie. You look radiant, you must be having a great time playing volleyball, huh?”, Yunah says sweetly, her voice high pitched, giggling in between words— it’s obvious she has a crush on Yeonjun. You scoff, amused, but she ignores you, “Yeah, yeah. The game’s fun, except Beomgyu always makes these wild, uncontrolled serves, like the one just now, and I’m always the one who has to go get the ball”. Your calm expression vanishes as if melting ice in a desert, “B-Beomgyu, you say?”, you mumble, “Yeah. Choi Beomgyu, from fine arts. Do you know him?”. You feel the blood rush to your cheeks, if it weren’t for the sun, they would’ve noticed how red your face just got, “Well… I…” “Oh, she knows him alright”. A deep, firm voice interrupts you— his voice. Beomgyu emerges from the same direction Yeonjun came from, wearing dark green swim trunks and his hair half tied. And on top? Nothing. Completely shirtless. Why does he have to be so ridiculously hot?, you ask yourself. Yeonjun glances at you, then at Beomgyu, as does Yunah, “You guys… know each other?”, he asks, his tone neutral but… surprised. “Oh, we do. My friend doctor Yn took care of me the other day”, Beomgyu says with a teasing tone, and of course, all eyes are now on you.

You gulp and reply timidly, “Well… he fell off his skateboard and had an open wound” “Ah!” Yeonjun laughs, “He always does”, Beomgyu hits his head and for a moment, you see Yeonjun’s patience falter. He takes a deep breath, clearly fighting against himself to avoid punching his friend's exposed ribs. “Anyway, would you guys like to join our game?”, the older guy gestures toward the volleyball net, where Soobin and Taehyun are waiting impatiently for the ball. “We’d love to, but Yn and I are working on our tans now, right?”, Yunah says, and you simply nod, grateful that you don’t have to make that decision yourself. “Ah, what a shame. Guess I’ll see you later then. I wanna check out that tan”, Yeonjun says playfully. “Of course! See you later”, Yunah replies before he waves and walks away.

But he forgets to take Beomgyu with him.

He stares at you with a smirk on his lips. To him, finding you here is like stumbling upon a pot of gold— now, summer’s going to be interesting. “What a convenient surprise”, he murmurs, “Sorry, what?”, Yunah asks, since you can’t seem to form a single word. He giggles, clearly enjoying your misery, “See you around, Yn”, he says, winks, and then jogs toward his friends, leaving you with slightly parted lips and a mind in absolute chaos, yet completely blank at the same time.

Yunah looks at you, her lips parted. You glance at her, indifferent, "What?" "Choi Beomgyu, huh!? How did I not know this, Yn Yln?!" "Because isn’t important?" "It is important! He's hot, talented, the king of the skatepark!”. You roll over on your towel, focusing on your tan, "And should I care?" "You should!", her voice is loud, indignant, "Come on, he's everything!" "I told you, Yun, we're just acquaintances" "Yeah, right. The way he looked at you tells me otherwise". You swallow hard, "W-what do you mean?" "That he look at you like you're the most desirable woman in the world", you laugh, dismissive, "Yeah, sure" "Well, if you don't want to believe it, fine. But I know what I saw". She puts her sunglasses back on and leans back to relax.

But her words have the opposite effect on you, leaving you completely absorbed in your thoughts— thoughts of him, Choi Beomgyu.

"I really don’t wanna go", Yunah pushes your arm, "Come on, Yn!" "Are you seriously going to let me go to a party all by myself?" "I always let you!" "But I need a wingwoman, and that’s you" "Now I want to go even less" "Please, Yn! Do it for your beloved Yun, pretty please?", she pouts. You groan, rolling your eyes, "Ugh, I hate you" "But you’re coming?" "...Yes" "Yay! I love you, I love you!". She kisses your cheek before bouncing to the bathroom to get ready for the party.

The bar is decorated in a tropical luau theme, vibrant decorations of palm leaves and colorful lights creating a lively, almost surreal atmosphere. The low bass of the music vibrates in your chest, the beat pulsing through you with every note. The indistinct chatter of voices mixes with the music rhythm, making everything feel like a blur of sound. The bright, flashing lights dance across the room, projecting chaotic colors on the walls, and you feel your head starting to spin.

This isn’t the kind of place you’re used to. You’re not used to being in a space where the noise and the lights seem to swallow you whole, making you feel both energized and disoriented at the same time. You knew you shouldn't have come to this party. The uneasy feeling tingling in your stomach only confirms it. Yunah notices it too, "Hey, Yn… are you okay?" "Y-yeah. I’m fine" "Are you sure?" "Well, I…" "Yn! Yun!”. Yeonjun's voice cuts through the noise and before you can react, he's already in front of you, arms open, pulling you into a tight hug. "I didn’t expect you to come!", he says against the curve of your neck, his warmth spreading across your skin. "I’m so glad you made it".

You glance at Yunah, who has a guilty smile dancing on her lips. The little brat knew Yeonjun would be here, along with his friends— including Beomgyu. And she knew you wouldn’t have come if you'd known. You shoot her a deadly glare before wrapping your arms around Yeonjun, trying to push the tension aside. How were you supposed to disappoint him after that? So you laugh softly, forcing a smile, "I’m glad to see you too, Jjunie". He lets you go, "Come join us, girls! We’re playing a game" "Which game?" "Seven Minutes in Heaven" "Seriously?! What are we, sixteen?". But before you can go any further, Yunah cuts you off, "We’d love to play!". And just like that, against your will, you find yourself sitting in a circle facing Beomgyu, who has a smirk printed on his lips, while a soju bottle spins between you.

As if you weren’t already unlucky enough, the damn bottle seals your fate, the neck pointing straight at Beomgyu and the base at you.

The murmur of your friends and Beomgyu's penetrating gaze make the air thicken around you, almost suffocating— are you really about to spend seven whole minutes alone in a room with him? The answer is yes. Your body being pushed by Yunah and Yeonjun toward the coat closet, the sound of the door shutting and the click of the lock confirm it. It feels more like a nightmare than anything else.

You freeze, waiting for your eyes to adjust to the darkness of the small space. Even from a distance, you can feel the heat of Beomgyu’s body in the air, his presence weighing down on you, still and silent. His breath and the muffled sound of the music are the only things you can hear. You've been alone with Beomgyu before, but now it's different. Now, you're locked in a tiny coat closet for whole 7 minutes, with no chance of escaping. It feels like the walls are closing in around you, but you're not that lucky— you'll have to face it alive.

“So”, he says, wiggling his eyebrows, leaning his back on the wall and crossing his arms. “I’m all yours for 7 minutes” “So what?” “We can do whatever you want to” “Well, I don’t want to do anything” “Really? Are you sure?”, he leans in, “Cause I have a couple of things I can think of”, you can feel his hot breath brushing against your face. You close your eyes, breathing him in, the scent from before isn't there anymore, you can feel his natural musk now and it's very very attractive— almost torture. “Get off, bro”, he steps back, still smirking, “Are you afraid of intimacy, Yn?” “What?! No! I just think you’re annoying as fuck” “Okay, okay, we can just sit here and talk if you want to”. He says, sitting on the floor in a cross legged position. You look at him suspiciously, “Or you don’t want to talk either?” “Talking is fine” “So, tell me how you got into medicine. And don’t come with that sugar coated story about loving the profession and blah blah blah”.

You sit in front of him, crossing your legs as well, “Helping people. I’m good at it. Even though I usually don’t get anything in return, it’s something I genuinely enjoy doing” “You usually don’t get anything in return?” “Yeah” “And why is that?” “I don’t know. It’s always been like that in my life. I put effort into others, and they just turn their backs to me at the end”. You run your fingers through your hair, “Not that you’d understand” “I do”, you look at him, surprised, “I don’t have many people I can actually rely on in my life. Except for my family, I just have Yeonjun, Soobin and Taehyun” “But… what about the guys from the skatepark?”. He smiles, but there’s no amusement in his act, “We just like to skate together. In our best, we’re all close as a family, but ask for someone’s help, for someone’s support”, he chuckles, bitterly, “During dark times, they all vanish in a second”. He carries bitterness in his voice, as if he himself had experienced it.

You look at him, surprised, "Wow, that was... unexpected", you say, your jaw almost on the floor. He grins, though there’s still a trace of melancholy on his lips, "Why do you think that?" "I just… I didn’t expect someone like you to feel this way" "Someone like me?", there’s curiosity in his voice, "Yeah. Someone who's always surrounded by people, always smiling, someone who… radiates charisma, you know?". He exhales softly, "You know, Yn, deep down, I’m just a guy who feels alone, looking for a place to belong. You say I’m annoying, but maybe I’m just trying to be noticed". There’s vulnerability in his voice— his feelings are raw and real. You know it. You feel it.

You look at him as if you've just made a revolutionary scientific discovery. Choi Beomgyu is actually a lonely guy who annoys people for attention?! Now, that you didn’t see coming. Not at all. "Well, you're doing a great job at that. Anyone can notice you from a mile away”, you say, trying to make him feel better. But he is not in the mood for little white lies, so he lets out a dry chuckle, shaking his head, "People notice me when I make them laugh, when I’m fun. But when I’m not, they just move on”. His voice is light, playful as always. But for some reason, it doesn’t feel like a joke.

You place your hand over his, giving it a light, reassuring squeeze, "Well, you have me now. Besides your friends". He stares at your hand covering his, clearly caught off guard by your gesture, "That doesn’t mean I like you. Or that I find you any less annoying", you add. "What do you mean you don’t like me?! I thought we were friends!", he exclaims dramatically, almost yelling. You laugh, "Oh no, I only said that to get rid of you, silly", but your tone is teasing. He gasps, placing a hand over his chest, pretending he is deeply offended, "Yn, you are hurting me!" "It’s okay, I can take care of you", you reply. He smiles, and you can’t help but smile too, "And, Yn..." "Hum?" “I recognize what you do for me. If that means anything to you”.

Choi Beomgyu is the only guy who can make your palms sweat with just a look, a smile, or even a single sentence.

You nod, pulling your hand back. He looks at the spot, feeling the absence of your warmth but you don’t care, he doesn’t need to know the effect he has on you. Even though you feel, almost know, that he’s already aware of it.

The next day dawned stormy. After you returned to the bungalow from the party, the world dissolved into rain. Throughout the night, thunder and lightning drove everyone away from the sand and sea. By the morning, the rain had ceased, but its effects lingered. The air is more humid and cooler than usual, and piles of sand are scattered along the shore, a result of the strong winds. And the sea is rough. But it isn’t just the sea that is feeling rough— Yunah is part of that club this morning too.

And guess who she drags to the convenience store? Yes, you. And unfortunately, all the hangover medicine is sold out— apparently, a group of young people bought the last ones. She groans, placing a hand on her head as you both walk back to the bungalow, "Ah! Yn, I'm never drinking again", she whines. You laugh sarcastically, "Sure. Do you know how many times I’ve heard that, Noh Yunah?" "No, but this time I'm serious. I'm a mess. If I don't die, I’m never touching alcohol again" "You’ll survive, drama queen”.

Out of nowhere, she stops, grabs your arm, and pulls you behind a palm tree, "Oh my god, Yn! Tell me I’m not hallucinating!" "Huh?! What?" "Aren’t those Soobin and Beomgyu over there?". She points toward a wooden bench a little ahead of where you are— 2 tall men with black hair are sitting with their backs turned to you, staring at the sea, immersed in a conversation. "Uh, yeah, I think it’s them" "Are they drinking Pedialyte?! I’m going over there to ask for some”. She steps out from behind the palm tree, but you pull her back, "No, you're not" "Why not?" "Because if you go, I’ll have to go too" "And?", you swallow hard, your eyes unable to look away from Beomgyu.

Yunah follows your gaze and then looks back at you with a smirk on her lips, "What happened in that closet last night?" "Nothing…" You feel the blood rushing to your cheeks. "We just talked". She grins, "And I don’t find Choi Yeonjun attractive" "I'm serious!". You try to argue, but she clearly doesn’t believe you, "Okay, if nothing happened, then you can come with me and ask for some of their Pedialyte". She turns her back to you and walks toward them. You bury your face in your hands, holding back a scream, then reluctantly follow her.

"This is never going to work", Soobin tells Beomgyu when he catches a glimpse of a figure approaching from the corner of his eye. He looks in the direction where you and Yunah are coming from and grins, "Hey! Isn't that Yunah and Yn?", he says, poking Beomgyu’s arm to get his attention. Beomgyu looks away from whatever he was doing and glances back— Yunah is confidently walking toward them while you clumsily try to catch up to her. He smiles at the scene.

"Yunah! Yn!", Soobin greets you both. Yunah jumps forward like she just won the lottery. Her excitement is so raw, it almost feels contagious. Almost. She twirls a strand of hair around her finger, eyes sparkling as she greets Soobin, “Soobinnie! Gyuuu! Hiii!”, Yunah says, overly excited, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger. "Hey, girls! How are you? Did you enjoy the party last night?" "We looooved it! But, you know… hangovers are a problem. We tried to buy some Pedialyte, but the store was sold out". Soobin chuckles, "I think that’s our fault", he gestures toward a ridiculous number of bottles in a bag on the ground, "Yeonjun and Taehyun are going to need some too", he explains, "But you can take some as well". Yunah grins from ear to ear and bends down to grab a bottle of strawberry flavor like a starving lion that just found a defenseless prey.

You remain standing, watching her, trying to ignore the weight of Beomgyu’s gaze on you. "And you, Yn?", Soobin asks, "She didn’t drink last night", Beomgyu answers for you. You just know he’s smirking without even looking at him, “Right, yn?”. You swallow hard, your gaze meets Beomgyu’s. His eyes catch yours, and you feel your chest tighten, a mix of frustration and something else you can’t name. Your heart skips a beat. Damn him. “Yeah. right”.

You thought that as soon as your friend grabbed her hangover medicine, you would leave. But instead, she decides to start a conversation with Soobin, "Isn’t it a crazy coincidence that we’ve run into each other on vacation 3 times in a row without even planning it?". Soobin takes a sip of the medicine and nods in agreement, "Pretty crazy, isn’t it?" "Yeah. How long are you guys staying here?" "A month" “Oh, wow! That’s a long time", she says, and he nods again, “What about you?” "Just 2 weeks, the bungalow is too expensive for just the two of us to afford alone for too long" "Why don’t you two join us? We’re at my family’s beach house and there’s an extra room. I think it’d be nice for all of us to stay together since we keep running into each other”, he grins, making his dimples appear, “That is, if you don’t mind sharing a room" "Oh my God, of course not! That would be amazing, right, Yn?”.

Sharing a house with Beomgyu?! You’re not mentally strong enough for that. So quickly you come up with an excuse, "What about Huening?", her excitement melts away, "Oh, right… Yeah, we have a friend, Kai, who's joining us tomorrow morning. That makes three of us for one room" "Ah. What a shame, maybe next ti…" "I’ll share my room with him", Beomgyu cuts Soobin off. "Are you serious?!", Yunah says, excited, "Yeah. I’m serious”, he replies to her, but his eyes never leave you, making it clear he’s doing this for you— to keep you close. "Then it’s perfect” "But… shouldn’t we check with Kai first?" "I’m sure Kai won’t mind. He always shared a room with his 2 sisters. What’s one guy around his age?". You look calm on the outside, but on the inside, you're thinking of all the different ways you'll torture Yunah later, “But…” “Look, I have a better idea. Beomgyu comes to my room and Kai can take his”, Soobin decides.

The three of them look at you, waiting to see how you’ll argue this time— except there’s nothing left to argue, "Fine. Whatever”, you finally say. "Great! I’ll go tell the guys we have new guests” "I’m coming with you. I can’t wait to see Yeonjun’s face", Yunah says before following Soobin, once again leaving you alone with Beomgyu.

He watches the two of them disappear, then turns his attention back to what he was doing before you arrived. You glance at his hands— one is holding a bottle of Pedialyte, and the other is gripping a rock, which he’s using to hit the plastic cap. Apparently, he’s trying to open the bottle. With a rock. You furrow your brows and sit beside him on the bench, "You know that’s never going to work, right?". He gives you a sideways glance, "Doesn’t hurt to try". You open your mouth to argue how stupid his idea is, but a burst of wind makes you shiver. Of course Beomgyu notices it.

He sets the rock and the bottle aside, then pulls off the gray hoodie he’s wearing and holds it out to you. You just stare at it, not even considering accepting it, "You’ll get sick, and there won’t be anyone to take care of you, so you better just take it" "Yunah will take care of me if I get sick!" "With her head spinning from all the alcohol she drank last night? I don’t think so". You keep staring at the hoodie— he has a point. "The rest of us can’t even tell the difference between a cold and the flu. You’re our one and only hope, Yn, so please don’t get sick”. You chuckle softly, then take the hoodie from his hands and slip it on. The fabric is warm yet light, like a cloud against your skin. And the best part? It smells like him— not the sweet scent of his perfume or the woody scent of his deodorant, but his natural scent. Indescribable, yet unmistakably his, "Aren’t you going to be cold?" "I can handle it" "Thanks…”

"You seem to love the idea, huh? Of staying with us", he teases, "Yeah, right. Having you as a next door neighbor sounds like a dream", you reply, sarcasm thick in your voice, "Damn, Yn. You’ve been in a bad mood these days. What’s up?" "It’s just…”. You hesitate but end up letting it out, “I’m nervous about my project” "What project?" "I'm going to make a presentation at the cardiology academic league". He chuckles, you’re unbelievable, "You’re thinking about that during vacation?!" "It’s going to be the most important event of the whole fall!" "What’s it about?" "The role of the heart in processing emotions" "Wow, you're really a hopeless romantic, aren't you? If you need to run some experiments, I volunteer to mess with your feelings”, he says, wiggling his eyebrows. Seriously? Don’t say, you think sarcastically, as if he already doesn’t already do that without any purpose. You roll your eyes and mutter, "You don’t understand", he notices your frustration. Nudging your thigh, he catches your attention, "Hey, it’s gonna be fine. You’re dr. Yn, there’s nothing you can’t do" "Yeah… I hope so”, you say, still unconvinced.

He feels your lack of confidence, so he tries to distract you, "Hey, have you ever surfed before?" "Surfing? No, never. Do you surf?" "You bet. I can teach you if you want" "Should I really trust you to teach me how to skate on the water?", he laughs, "Yes, I’m actually pretty good at it" "I don’t know about that" "How about this: I'll go out there, catch some waves, and you can judge for yourself". You bite your lower lip, hesitate, but then nod. He brightens up, a grin growing on his lips, "Great! I’ll go grab my board then” "Okay". He runs off through the sand like a kid, and you can’t help but smile— his energy is contagious.

When Beomgyu returns with a surfboard under his arm and a surf shirt on, you no longer think it's a good idea to go into the sea. The waves are convulsing violently. You look at him, who seems to not care about it, "Beomgyu... I don't think you should go into the water" "Why not?!" "It looks dangerous". He glances at the sea, seemingly unbothered, and then turns back to you with a shrug, "Nah, it's fine. I’ve got this". He takes a step forward in the sand, but you grab his arm— your touch makes him twist inside. "Beomgyu... are you going to be okay?", he smiles, "You're so cute when you're worried about me", he holds you by the shoulders, "I'll be fine, Yn” "Really?" "Relax, you’re not getting rid of me that easily".

With a light pat on your head, he comes into the water. Your heart races. Beomgyu might be annoying, but you don’t want anything bad to happen to him, just the thought of it makes you shiver.

The waves crash violently against the shore, a wild mix of water and foam. Beomgyu is just a small figure in the middle of the enraged ocean, his surfboard cutting through the waves like a knife through the air. Each wave he rides feels like it might be his last, the board dipping and swerving, as if the ocean wants to pull him under. You can barely see through the spray of water, the sky and sea blurring into one. You watch him with your breath caught in your throat, the roar of the water fills your ears, and for a moment, you lose sight of him. You grip the sleeve of his hoodie tightly, eyes shut, anxiety building in.

There’s silence— only the sounds of crashing waves and your own heavy breath fill the space.

And then, you hear it— his voice, a triumphant scream. You snap your eyes open, heart pounding, and there he is, above the waves, balanced perfectly on top of the surfboard, riding the chaos of the sea effortlessly. You can’t help but smile, the relief flooding you, and without thinking, you shout back, a cheer of victory, "Yay! Beomgyu!". The wave finally crashes, sending a spray of water into the air. Beomgyu rides the remnants of the wave, his movements fluid and confident as he paddles toward you, a wide grin spreading across his face— he feels like he has conquered the sea itself.

He walks toward you, water dripping off him, a triumphant glow in his eyes. The smile on his face makes your heart flutter, and for a moment, everything feels perfect.

Until…

Beomgyu screams, loud and painfully, dropping the surfboard, which stays tethered to his ankle. His face twists in pain as he frantically splashes his leg in the water. From afar, you can tell that something is wrong, “What happened?”, you ask, walking toward him, the current making it harder to move. “Shit… I think it was a jellyfish”, he growls through clenched teeth, gripping his leg. Your eyes widen, “You’re kidding, right?” “Do I look like I’m kidding, Yn?”, he groans, his face furrowing, and you can tell he's in pain.

Without thinking twice, you grab his arm and start guiding him back to the shore, “Come on, we need to get out of here”. Beomgyu limps along beside you, the pain evident on his face. As soon as you reach the sand, you make him sit down. He props himself up on his elbows, watching as you unstrap his board and examine the red, irritated mark on his skin, “Yeah, that jellyfish really got you” “AM I GONNA DIE?!”, he yells, loud and dramatic. “What?! No! … At least I hope not”, you mumble, praying he doesn’t listen to the last part. “Do something, Yn. It’s hurting” “There’s a hot spring nearby”, you say, “The water might help ease the pain”. He nods, biting his lip to hold back another groan of pain, “Okay. If it doesn’t work, I’ll let you have my hoodie”. You shrug. “I’ll sell it and use the money to buy a new book. To replace the one you ruined with your degenerate volley serve. A weak chuckle escapes him, “Fair”.

The two of you make your way to the natural spring. The place is almost magical— a small stream that feeds in a little pool of crystal clear water, surrounded by large gray stones with moss on top and cascading ferns swaying gently in the breeze.It really looks healing. Beomgyu sits on one of the rocks and dips his calf into the water, letting out a sigh of relief as the warmth starts to work its magic. “Better?”, you ask, sitting beside him, “Way better”. He murmurs, tilting his head back with a groan of relief. You swallow hard, watching the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he leans back. It makes something pulse deep in your core. You want to tear your clothes off. Shit. “Who would’ve thought I’d survive a jellyfish attack thanks to you”, he says, with amusement in his voice. You roll your eyes, but a smile escapes your lips, “Don’t be dramatic”.

He turns to look at you, his eyes glowing with something different, “I’m serious. You’re always so… lost inside your own head, thinking about everything, but that’s just who you are, isn’t it? You care about everything, even about an idiot who got himself stung by a jellyfish— more than you do about yourself”. You feel warmth spread across your chest. He’s looking at you in a way that makes your stomach flip and your palms sweat, “You’re not an idiot”, you say softly. Beomgyu smiles, small but sincere, “Is that a compliment?”, he teases, “Maybe”. Silence falls between you, but it’s not uncomfortable. On the contrary, there’s something in the air, like magnetism, pulling you closer to him. Something you can’t quite name. Beomgyu leans in a little more, his eyes flickering to your lips for a split second before locking onto yours again. Your heart races.

He wants this too.

You don’t know who moves first, but suddenly your faces are so close. His breath is warm against your skin, as hot as the steam rising from the water around you. Your eyes flutter shut. His lips are just about to brush against yours when you hear a loud splash, followed by a sharp gasp, “Oh my god!”. Beomgyu freezes at the familiar voice, his lips mere centimeters from yours.

Both of you turn your heads around at the same time to find Yeonjun standing there, knee deep in the water, staring at you like he just walked in on a crime scene, “Were you guys about to kiss?!”, he practically shrieks, scandalized. You slap a hand over your mouth, holding back a laugh, while Beomgyu groans in pure frustration, burying his face in his hands as he sincerely mutters, “Dude, I hate my life”. You, on the other hand, can’t hold it in and burst out laughing, the moment between you two dissolving into thin air. “What the hell are you even doing here?” you ask, amused,“I just wanted to relax, but apparently, I just stepped into a drama”, Yeonjun says, looking personally offended.

Beomgyu lifts his head, shooting him a deadly glare, “Can you, I don’t know, just leave?”. Yeonjun crosses his arms, “No need to be rude, lover boy. I’ll leave you two alone… eventually”. You sigh, “Yeonjun…” “Alright, alright, I’m going!”, he raises his hands in surrender, backing away dramatically, “Enjoy your little moment or whatever”. But just when you think you’re finally free of him, he yells over his shoulder, “Use protection!”. Beomgyu tosses a handful of water at him, “Why don’t you trip over a rock and die!?”. Yeonjun takes off running, cackling.

You glance at Beomgyu, biting your lip to hold back another laugh. He looks absolutely defeated,“The universe hates me”, he grumbles. You smile, “Maybe it’s just Yeonjun who hates you”. He sighs, shaking his head, but as you watch him, a thought flickers in the back of your mind:

This isn’t over at least not yet. Deep down, you know it’s only a matter of time.

For the rest of the summer, you and Yunah spent time with the rest of the boys—Yeonjun, Soobin, Taehyun, and Beomgyu. And of course, Kai, who joined you along the way. To your surprise, it turned out to be the funniest summer ever. You guys played games, camped on the beach, and the boys sang songs around the bonfire. Soobin tried to cook for you, but it was a big disaster. Thankfully, Yeonjun and his supply of ramen saved the day. Yunah flirted with everyone, except Kai, who was like an older brother to her, and Beomgyu, who she considered yours, even though you never admitted it. As for Beomgyu… well, he was a complete tease, yet somehow, completely dreamy. Every opportunity to press you against a wall and mutter some provocative words against your lips, but without actually kissing them, he took it.

You told yourself that you hated it, but deep down, you knew you liked it. And now, at the end of your trip, you knew you were going to miss him— his mischievous grin as he splashed water on you while you were sunbathing, the thick tension between you whenever no one else was around, his flirtatious words... But also his calm moments, like when he would pick up a guitar, sit down to draw, or completely focus on his skateboarding or surfing moves. You’re going to miss everything.

Now, the whole group is sitting together in the dining room of the house. The room is lively, filled with the voices of the group scattered around the long table. Taehyun cooked with the help of Huening— an exception for this special night. The scent of freshly prepared food lingers in the air, blending with laughter and the clinking of glasses. You are sitting next to Yunah, trying to focus on your conversation, but your mind is elsewhere. Or rather, on someone else.

Choi Beomgyu.

He is sitting on your right, his leg is brushing lightly against yours under the table. Still, you tell yourself it’s just a coincidence. Then, his elbow brushes against yours, and without warning, he reaches out and places a piece of meat on your plate. You blink, surprised, and lift your gaze to him, “Eat”, he said, not even looking at you. You raise an eyebrow, “I can serve myself, thanks” “I know you can, Yn, but you’re not eating enough”. He lifts his brows, challenging you to argue. You open your mouth to protest, but he simply takes another bite of his food, as if he hadn’t just provoked you.

You shake your head in disbelief and sigh, bringing the piece of meat to your mouth before he decides to feed you himself. Suddenly, you feel a touch— his hand is under the table, resting lightly on your thigh. Your body stiffens immediately, your chopsticks frozen mid air.

You look at him. Beomgyu continues to act as if nothing is happening, chatting with Soobin about something trivial, his expression completely relaxed like his fingers aren’t tracing slow, teasing circles on your skin, just below the cuffed hem of your denim shorts. You narrow your eyes, What the hell is he doing? With a discreet movement, your hand reaches down, grabbing his wrist, fingers tightening in a silent warning for him to stop. Beomgyu finally turns his head toward you, amusement flickering in his gaze, lips curling into that typical smirk of his.

He leans in slightly, his voice barely above a whisper, meant just for you, “What’s the problem, Yn?” “The problem is you”, you muttered just as quietly, irritation dripping from your words. He smiles, running his tongue slowly over his lower lip, “Oh, I know”. Then, he simply turns back to his conversation with Soobin.

The audacity.

So that’s how he wants to play? Feeling personally challenged, you flash a sweet smile before slowly trailing your hand down to his leg. Beomgyu doesn’t react at first, probably thinking you are going to return his touch.

He is so wrong.

Your nails dig into his skin in a firm squeeze. Beomgyu is used to Yeonjun squeezing his thigh, but unlike Yeonjun, your nails are long. As a result, Beomgyu chokes on his own saliva. You keep an angelic expression, sipping your drink while he struggles to compose himself, “You okay?”, Soobin asks, offering a glass of water. Beomgyu gives him a forced smile, accepting the drink, “Yeah. Just… the food’s spicier than I expected”.

He looks at you. You grin, devilishly, and continue to eat, satisfied. But before you can celebrate your victory, he leans in again, murmuring into your ear, “You’re gonna pay for that, babygirl”. And by the mischievous glint in his eyes, you know Beomgyu will keep his promise.

You swallow hard, regret kicking in. For the rest of the dinner, you can’t focus on anything except the revenge awaiting you.

Dinner ended without further incidents, but you know Beomgyu didn’t forget. You could see it in the way he looked at you during dinner. In the way he smiled— slow, unhurried, like he knew something you didn’t.

You feel when he follows you to the bedroom, his presence heavy behind you. When the door closes, a shiver runs down your spine. The soft click of the lock is quiet, but loud enough to make your heart race. You turn around slowly, meeting his gaze,"W-why did you lock the door?", you mumble. The corner of his mouth lifts, and he steps forward, "Because I don’t want to be interrupted”.

Your body reacts before you can even form a response. You step back, but your back meets the wall too soon, and he is already close for you to escape. Too close, with one hand resting on the wall beside your face, shortening the distance between you, "What do you think you’re doing?", you mutter, heat creeping up your face. He tilts his head, the smirk never fading, "Making you pay. You think I forgot?". His voice is low, intimidating.

You widen your eyes, "Beomgyu, I just squeezed your leg" "With sharp nails!", he’s loud again, "It was a reflex!" "A reflex?!", he repeats, eyes sparkling, "Funny... because it seemed pretty intentional to me” "You started it!". He chuckles softly, dark eyes drifting over your face before lowering to your lips. His fingers brush against your waist, slowly, playing with the hem of your shirt. Your body tenses under the teasing touch, a warm shiver running up your spine. You hold your breath, a small whine escaping your lips.

He isn’t just touching— you know he is playing with your mind, messing with your emotions.

"Beomgyu..." "Hum?", you hate the satisfied tone in his voice. You hate how weak your own voice sounded, your breath shortened— he knows exactly what he is doing.

The tip of his fingers trail down, tracing a light, torturous path along your waist until they reach your hips. You squeeze your thighs together, trying to relieve the tension pooling between your legs. The room is silent, except for the sound of heavy breaths. The energy between you is so tangible it is almost suffocating. Your bodies are inches apart, and the tension is quite unbearable. "Are you going to stop me this time?", he murmurs, his lips so close you feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. You slowly lift your gaze, meeting his. His dark eyes are full of something that makes your stomach flip.

You try to open your mouth to answer, but he leans in before you could say anything, his breath now brushing against your jaw, "Answer me, Yn". Your heart pounds against your chest, "Beomgyu...". He smiles, satisfied. You shut your eyes for a second, trying to gather your thoughts, but his hands are already moving again, tracing a tempting path up your body.

Without hesitation, he goes deeper, his touch now bolder, fingers nibbling your collarbone, then trailing lower. Each touch seems to mimic the erratic rhythm of your heartbeat. You try to stay calm, but it is impossible when he has his hands spread across your back, pressing you against him with an intensity that sends your senses into overdrive. Slowly, he moves down again, his fingers brushing along the curve of your chest. You bite your lower lip, trying to suppress the overwhelming sensations he is stirring inside you.

Beomgyu pauses for a moment, looking at you, his eyes shining with a mix of desire and amusement. "You teased me at dinner”, he murmurs, lips dangerously close to your neck, "Now it’s my turn”. You hold your breath when you feel his lips barely brush against your skin, a touch so warm, so slow—- it makes your mind spin. The feeling of his mouth against your sensitive skin, the way his tongue moves, exploring, makes you lose yourself. Every movement leaves you wanting more. His fingers tighten around your hip, pulling you closer. Your body reacts before your mind can even process it, your hips pressing against his, involuntarily. Of course, Beomgyu notices it, "I knew you’d like this", he whispers against your skin, pleased. You open your eyes, pupils blown, your entire body burning and you know that if you don’t do something, he will take this exactly wherever he wants, however he wants.

So, you do what you can. Your nails dig into his back this time— right on his trapezius. Beomgyu lets out a low groan, his eyes shutting for a second. When he opens them again, there is something different there— a dark, dangerous glint. He smiles slowly, "You just made things worse for yourself, Yn". Now, you know you are completely damned.

He moves even closer, pressing his leg between yours, just to tease you. You let out a quiet moan through gritted teeth as the firm muscle of his thigh rubs against your sensitive core, sending electric jolts through your entire body. You feel his bulge pressing against your stomach— so hard, so quickly. When your gazes lock, everything around you seems to vanish.

There are only the two of you.

Beomgyu lifts a hand, cupping your cheek, the gesture delicate but charged with an urgent need. His eyes never left yours, his expression overwhelmed by desire, "You have no idea what you’re doing to me, Yn", he whispers, his voice rough, low, consumed by something greater than the two of you can control. Another shiver runs down your spine— you can’t look away, and you don’t want to. Your skin burns under his touch, and the feeling of being so close, yet not close enough, drives you crazy— you know you are about to give in.

"Yn...", he murmurs, his eyes shining with an intensity you have never seen before. There’s something almost possessive in his aura, as if he wants to claim every piece of you, in a way you can’t say no."I want you”, he whispers, voice dripping with need, "Right now". There is still an invisible line between you two, one that both of you know will soon disappear, "You want me, Yn. You don’t have to hide it", he is right— you want him, you need him. With every part of you.

So, for the first time in a long time, you let yourself relax. In one hurried, needy motion, you pull him close, finally closing the space between you. His lips are like the ocean— gentle at first, but quickly turning into a powerful force, devouring you whole. A muffled moan escapes your lips as you feel the warmth of his tongue against yours, melting deeply into the kiss. His touch is both fierce and soft, like he is devouring you with a deliberate care. You match his intensity, your hands trailing up beneath his shirt, slowly, savoring the warmth of his skin, tracing every ridge of his abdomen, meeting every expectation you have of him.

Just like you, Beomgyu is lost in the moment. His lips travel back to your neck and your body trembles at the heat of his breath against your skin. The pressure, the hunger, everything is building inside you—- like something ready to explode. There are no more words, just the sound of ragged breaths, tangled bodies, and a tension that is about to break. The whole world seems to disappear, and all that remains is the desire to lose themselves in each other.

Suddenly, he pulls away, gasping for air, "Do you think Yunah will be back soon?", his voice is shaky, "I saw her coming into Yeonjun’s room with Taehyun and a few bottles of whiskey". His mouth forms an "o", already thinking about the tea he is going to spill with Soobin the next day, "Looks like we’re not the only ones having fun tonight". You laugh, playing with the hem of his shorts, slowly undoing the knot that holds them in place.

He follows your lead, pulling off his shirt just as you strip him of the rest of his clothes— slowly, teasingly, sending sparks through his entire system, which inevitably transmit to yours. You scan his half naked body, devouring him with your eyes, "Have you done this before?", he asks. You meet his gaze, nodding, "Good", he murmurs. Then, he tugs at the waistband of your shorts, unbuttoning and sliding them off with swift efficiency. His fingers brush against your stomach before moving up, taking your shirt with them. You gasp as the cool night air contrasts with the warmth of his body against yours.

His hands travel down to your ass, gripping tightly before lifting you effortlessly and carrying you to Yunah’s bed. Normally, you’d correct him, tell him it’s the wrong bed and make him take you to the right one, but you're too lost in the moment— too lost in him— to even consider it. The only thought in your mind is for him to throw you onto the bed and make you forget your own name.

As if he could read your thoughts, your back soon meets the soft mattress and his face settles between your still covered breasts. He breathes you in, taking in your sweet natural scent before putting the fabric of the bikini to the side to capture one of your nipples. The circular motions of his tongue against the sensitive point send shivers down your spine, making you arch your back slightly as a moan escapes your lips. Your fingers grip the sheets, seeking relief.

He smirks at your reaction.

His hands return to your hips, untying your bikini bottoms and leaving you bare from the waist down. The sensation of your exposed skin against the fabric of his boxers drives you insane. You try to grind against him, but he pulls away, removing the last piece of clothing between you. You miss his warmth instantly, but soon, he’s crawling back over you, his body hovering above yours.

His fingers slowly slip inside you, testing if you’re ready for him. A soft moan escapes your lips against his neck, "You're perfect for me, babygirl". He sucks on your earlobe, "Please”, you beg. Without hesitation, he aligns himself with your entrance and, torturously slow, pushes inside. A quiet whine slips past your lips, as you feel yourself stretching to take his length, "You're so tight", he groans. "Are you okay?", his voice is muffled against the curve of your neck, his whole body trembling as he holds himself back from tearing you in two with all his strength. "Y- yes. You can…”, you gulp, voice shaky, “... move if you want”. You feel his smirk against your skin.

With your back flat against the bed and your legs wrapped around his torso, your bodies move as one. Balls deep, his thrusts hit the sweet spot inside you, making you see stars. The connection between you is so intense, so intimate, you can barely breathe. Your body is reacting, the momentum building, and when he suddenly pauses, you force yourself to open your eyes.

Beomgyu is watching you, his lips still close to yours, but he doesn’t move, "W-What?", you whisper, your voice trembling from the pleasure, "You're beautiful” "You’ve told me that before” "But you look especially beautiful like this, burning with desire for me". You chuckle, feeling the tightness in your core intensify with every second he doesn’t move inside you. He obviously notices because, without warning, he resumes his thrusts— this time deeper, rougher. His sweat drips down on your chest mixing with your own. You're reaching your edge soon.

The tension in the room reaches its peak, the air between you is on edge, like a wire ready to break. The growing tension in your gut finally snaps, the pleasure hitting you like fireworks lighting up the midnight sky. He comes first, and you follow right after. Beomgyu collapses on top of you, both yours and his breathing completely erratic. You stare at him, both of you fully aware that the line between you has been completely crossed.

The house is bathed into shadows, illuminated only by the moonlight that slips through the windows. The soft sound of the distant waves fills the silence— absolutely peaceful. Still, he couldn't sleep.

The house is cool and refreshing from the cold midnight breeze, but the room where you are sleeping feels warm, completely suffocating. He already has spent too much time lying beside you, feeling your rhythmic breath against the pillow, feeling the warmth of your body curled under his.

And that's a problem.

He needs to get out of there. He needs space to think— or maybe, he just needs to escape.

When he leaves the room and slowly shuts the door, he feels the fresh air against his skin. Beomgyu moves carefully down the hall, his bare feet against the cold floor. But just as he’s about to take another step down the dark hallway, he realizes he’s not alone.

"Yeonjun?"

His friend is leaning against the wall, arms crossed, as if waiting for him. Beomgyu furrows his brow, "What the hell are you doing awake at this hour?", Yeonjun raises an eyebrow, “I should be asking you that". Beomgyu rolls his eyes and steps to the side, trying to pass him, but Yeonjun blocks his way with his arm, "Where are you going?", Beomgyu shrugs, "Outside”. Yeonjun furrows his brow, "Why?", he holds up a joint case, "I can’t sleep. I need to relax". But the older man knows his friend, knows it’s not just about insomnia.

He sighs and crosses his arms again, "What? What’s the problem?", Beomgyu mutters impatiently, "The problem isn’t you smoking. The problem is you leaving her room in the middle of the night like she's a one night stand". Beomgyu forces a low laugh, "It's not like I’m running away. I told you, I just can’t sleep, and I need to relax”. Yeonjun lets out a skeptical, nasal laugh, “Really? Because that sounds exactly like the opposite of what’s happening". Beomgyu opens his mouth to say it’s not like that, but even him doesn't believe those words.

His silence makes that clear to Yeonjun, confirming what he already knew. He grunts, dragging a hand over his face, "Ah! Beomgyu...", he hesitates, choosing his words carefully, "Why do you always do this?". Beomgyu raises an eyebrow, "Do what?", Yeonjun steps forward, closing the gap between them, "You know what I mean”.

Beomgyu lets out a short, humorless laugh, "Are you going to start with this again?" "Yes", Yeonjun replies without hesitation, "Because it’s always the same thing”. Beomgyu turns his face away, his eyes fixed on the darkness of the hall, but Yeonjun continues, "Everytime you like someone you get close. You make them like you back, then, when you realize they feel the same, you run away".

Beomgyu clenches his jaw, his eyes burning with anger in the dim light of the night. The silence grows heavier between them. Beomgyu licks his lips, uncomfortable. He knows where this conversation is going. He knows that Yeonjun always sees right through him, that he always reads him like an open book, "You like her".

Beomgyu doesn’t respond right away. Instead, he swallows hard, searching for an answer in the back of his head, "If I liked her, what would that change?". Yeonjun tilts his head, his eyes fixed on him, "You’d distance yourself from her”. Beomgyu clenches his jaw, shifting his gaze to the joint case, as if that would absolve him of all the guilt. His smile falters, it’s so quick that someone less attentive wouldn’t notice— but Yeonjun notices. And in that moment, he knows something inside Beomgyu cracked just a little— his fortress is starting to crumble.

Finally, he sighs, "Maybe with her, will be different”. Yeonjun lets out a short, humorless laugh,"Then why are you looking for a way to run away?". Beomgyu doesn’t answer, because they both know there’s no need to— the truth is implied in his unspoken words. Yeonjun takes another step closer, his fists clenching at his sides, “But this is Yn, and if you even think about doing this to her, you’ll have to deal with me”.

For a moment, the only sound between them is the distant noise of the ocean. Beomgyu closes his eyes for a second, trying to shake off the uncomfortable feeling settling in his chest.

Then, he grabs his lighter and spins it between his fingers, "Good night, Jjunie”. He gives his friend a light pat on the shoulder and walks past him, heading for the front door with doubt heavy in his chest. Because Yeonjun is right— if he keeps this up, he’s going to end up pushing you away, leaving you completely broken.

And that scares him more than staying.

The last thing you remember was falling asleep with Beomgyu on top of you. You recall watching the slow rise and fall of his chest, the silence of the room filled only by his soft snores and the gentle sound of the ocean in the distance. His hair had cascaded over his shoulders, damp with sweat and clinging to his forehead

You fell asleep to that sight— only to wake up without it.

Your entire body is covered in goosebumps from the cold midnight air sneaking in from the open window. The first thing that crosses your mind as you wake up is the absence of his warmth. Slowly, you sit up, your limbs feeling heavy, your thighs aching from the roughness. Then, you stand, wincing slightly, and walk to the window to close it—only to catch sight of Beomgyu sitting outside with a trail of smoke curled above his head, blending into the night air. He’s on the sand, curled in on himself, staring at the ocean. Silent. Still. You smile softly, then glance around for something to wear, settling on the hoodie he lent you the day he got stung by a jellyfish. The one you, sneakily, never gave back.

The air outside is even colder. You wrap your arms around yourself and make your way toward him, quickening your pace. As you approach, the strong scent of the joint between his fingers reaches your nose, making your head pulse slightly. When he sees you, he grins lazily— still hazy from your scent, your taste, your touch. From you. The fact that he’s smoking is just a detail. “Hey, Yn," he murmurs, his voice even huskier than usual— a mix of sleep and smoke. "Are you smoking weed?!" "Yes. Want some?", he extends the joint to you, "Huh, no. Thank you" "Have you ever tried?" "Pot? No” "Do you want to get high?" "I'm not sure I even know how to smoke" "Want to try?".

You stare at the joint between his fingers. You never do things like this, "I don’t know if this is good for me". He chuckles sarcastically, taking a drag before speaking, "Go ahead, lecture me", you tilt your head, "Hum… lecture you?" "Yeah. Tell me about the harmful effects of smoking and all that shit”. You sit beside him on the sand, the strong scent of weed invading your senses, making you doubt you'd ever want to smoke that, "But it would ruin the mood", you say. He laughs, "You're surreal" "What do you mean?" "No one has ever captivated me as much as you", he says. You chuckle softly, "C’mon. I’m just an uninteresting college student" "No. You’re unique, unusual. I’ve never met someone like you before. Don’t belittle yourself, Yn". You nod, agreeing, trying to ignore how quickly your heart started racing.

"Isn’t this hoodie mine?", he asks, "Well… hum, maybe I… kind of forgot to give it back". He takes a drag, laughing under his breath, "Keep it. It looks better on you" "You think so?" "I know it does". You fidget with your hair, trying to hide the warmth spreading across your cheeks.

That’s when he pulls a folded piece of paper from his pocket and slips it into the front pocket of the hoodie, "Here. Open it when you’re alone” "What is it?” "Something I made for you”. You fight the urge to peek at it right away. Instead, you follow Beomgyu’s gaze toward the horizon, watching the moonlight ripple across the dark ocean. You love these quiet moments with Beomgyu— when he isn’t talking nonstop and you can just enjoy his presence without being teased. But they are rare.

"Hey, I have an idea”, he says, eyes glinting. "What?" "I can get you high without you having to smoke" "How?" "Just watch". He takes a big drag but doesn’t exhale. Instead, he leans in, lips hovering yours. Your heart pounds— how could it not? He is so close, his lips mere inches away, and you feel so tempted to kiss him, as if some supernatural force is drawing your lips closer.

He holds your chin, eyes locked on your lips. You move forward slightly, just a fraction, unable to look away from his mouth either. He pulls your chin down, parting your lips just enough before exhaling the smoke into your mouth. Your lips brush against his lightly, sending a rush of serotonin through your body, intensifying your longing for him. But he pulls away too soon.

"Inhale and exhale slowly", he instructs, and you do as he says. Beomgyu watches you with a smirk, proud, "Now you can get high with me". As if I needed weed to feel high when I’m around you, dork, you think. Soon, your body feels light and relaxed, almost like the waves in front of you.

But Beomgyu looks completely normal, "Gyu", your voice sounds slower, heavier, "Yes?" "How come you’re still so freaking electric?". He laughs, "I’m used to it, I guess". You rest your head on his shoulder, "I like you, you know”. For the way you begged for him under his body hours ago, he probably caught the hint that you like him, "I-I like you too, Yn" "That’s something I wanted to know. Why do you always say my name at the end of your sentences?" "I like your name inside my voice", he shrugs. You chuckle, "That makes two of us”. He grins, "You know, I…" "I'm afraid. Terrified of losing you.", your loose tongue cuts him mid sentence, "What?" "If you ever get hurt, I… I will miss you. I don’t want to lose you. It would break me apart” "Why do you think I would get hurt?"

"Skateboarding"

"Oh!", he suddenly freezes in place. His breath catches in his throat, and his chest tightens as if the air itself has thickened. He pulls his shoulder back, forcing you to lift your head. Your eyes meet, and you tilt your head slightly, "Are you okay?" "Yeah! Yeah, I...". He runs a shaky hand through his hair, trying to steady himself, but the motion feels desperate, as if he's trying to rid himself of the tension building in his body, "I just remembered I haven’t packed my bags yet". He stands, his legs unsteady, like his own body doesn't know what to do with the rush of panic flooding him, "S-sure" "I’ll see you tomorrow. We can... sit together in the car" "Alright…”.

He walks away, each step a struggle as the weight of your words presses on his chest. His mind races, Yeonjun is right. If he leaves, he’ll hurt you. But if he stays... he wouldn't be able to let go of skateboarding— it’s as much a part of him, of who he is, as his own personality, as the heart beating in his chest— and he’ll hurt you even more. No matter what he does, he's going to hurt you.

His breath is shallow, there's a tightness in his chest not just from the panic, but from the realization that he’s cornered, Why does it feel like I’m suffocating, like there’s no way out?

You watch him, hoping he’s okay, hoping your words didn’t push him too far.

The next day, he sits next to Soobin in the car.

If hurting you it’s inevitable, then wouldn’t it just be better... to end it now?

Fall, beginning of the new semester:

The bell rings, loud and persistent, signaling the start of the first period of the semester. A sea of students moves through the hallways, searching for their classrooms, arms linked with their friends, laughing at their summer stories, filled with excitement for the beginning of the semester. But you— you remain still, eyes fixed on the photo you just hang on your locker.

A group photo taken during the summer.

You haven’t heard from Beomgyu in about two months, not even Yeonjun knew about him. Soobin also claimed he didn’t know either, but you’re convinced he lied. The way his voice faltered over the phone, how he quickly changed the subject— it all gave him away.

Still, you like to believe that Beomgyu just needed some time to himself. After all, he’s an introvert who spent the entire summer surrounded by 6 people almost the whole time. Even so, the constant thought that something might have gone wrong haunts you day and night.

You take a deep breath, shutting your locker, trying to focus on your classes. This semester, you’re one step closer to actually becoming a doctor, something that requires your full dedication. You also have an important project in your academic league. There’s no time for distractions like this.

But then, you see something.

Something that makes your confident strides slow until they stop completely. Your eyes sting with unshed tears. The bitter taste of a broken heart rises in your throat, exploding on your tongue. Because standing right in front of you there’s a tall figure with a hair that’s no longer as long as before and no longer black— but now a deep, almost maroon shade of red. And beside him, a girl of average height, who has her hand clasped in his hand while her head rests lightly on his arm. “B- Beomgyu?”.

Are you having a deja vu?

It doesn’t make sense. It makes even less sense than it did with Wonwoo. Maybe they are just friends, you and Yunah also cling to Kai like that. But the confirmation of the inevitable comes when your eyes meet— there's no longer that heat that provoked you throughout almost the entire trip. It’s like there’s nothing left inside of him.

Looking away from you, he grabs the girl’s hips and abruptly presses her against the lockers, sealing his lips to hers just as intensely as he did with you. He’s hurting you on purpose. You know this isn’t just a coincidence, not some sudden impulse— it is calculated, meant for you to see, to feel the pain. And it works cause your instincts kick in, and anxiety spreads through you like wildfire, reaching every last nerve in your body. You turn your face away, knowing that if you keep watching, you’ll collapse right there in the middle of the hallway, and break apart. So, just like at the end of last semester, you let your feet guide you blindly, aimlessly, in a desperate, yet futile, attempt to escape the nightmare you're living. Why is this happening again?, you ask yourself.

The wind crashes against your sobbing face, and that’s when you realize— you’re outside, at the very place where your fate was sealed at the end of last spring: the skatepark. You breathe heavily, watching the skaters rise and fall on the bowl ramps, the clouds shifting with the wind. The sun is light, the sky, maroon, the same color as Beomgyu’s hair. But he won’t save you this time.

You turn to leave but bump into a broad and solid chest, which belongs to a man as tall as a lamppost. “S-Soobin?”, who had witnessed the entire scene, opens his mouth and closes it a few times before finally managing to speak, his voice trembling, consumed by anger, “Yn… can we talk?”. You nod, too drained to say anything other than, “Alright”.

The scent of paint fills the art room as you sit at one of the tables, watching Soobin pace back and forth, struggling to piece together something that both makes sense and doesn’t completely destroy you in just a few words. The sound of his footsteps is already starting to irritate you— you should be in class, not watching him hit his daily step count. Clearing your throat, you hop off the table, “Look, Soobin, I have a lot to do, so if you’re not going to say anything, please just let me go”.

He finally stops walking and blocks the door, “No… please, don’t go. I…”, he runs his fingers through his hair and exhales sharply, “...I lied to you when you asked me about him”. You cross your arms, “I noticed” “I’m sorry. I… I don’t know why I protected that idiot”. His voice is heavy with guilt, “I tried telling him that ignoring you wasn’t a good idea. I tried to understand why he was doing this when all he ever did when we were at the beach was talk about you, think about you, but nothing made sense. Nothing makes sense” “He… talked about me?” “Yes! That day when you and Yunah showed up after the storm, I was teasing him about the closet game”, he says with a small smile, as if recalling how Beomgyu had turned red with anger at the mere thought of his best friend assuming he would ever disrespect you like that.

You swallow hard, forcing the back tears, trying not to ache from how much you miss him, “I asked him if, well, you know…”, Soobin hesitates, rubbing the back of his neck, “And he got so mad at me. He said you deserve more than just a quick fuck in a closet during a drinking game with a guy you barely knew”. He chuckles, lost in the memory, “I don’t think he ever thought that way about anyone else, you know? That’s why, when we came back home and he just disappeared for an entire month, only to show up later and tell me all the shit he was doing…”, Soobin clenches his jaw. His previously pale cheeks are now colored in pink, and the vein in his forehead is prominent, “... I just refused to believe it”.

He takes a deep breath in and rubs his temples before continuing, “I thought he was finally going to settle down with someone, but if I had known he was just going to throw himself into reckless parties and grab the first girl in front of him to put a damn couple ring on her finger, I would’ve warned you”. He walks over and pulls you into a tight hug, crushing you against his chest until you can barely breathe, “I’m sorry, YN”. The warmth of fresh tears slides down your cheeks as you hug him just as tightly, “It’s not your fault, Soobin. I was the one who misread everything”. He pulls back just enough to look at you without letting go, “No, YN. Don’t think that way. You didn’t do anything wrong, he’s the one being an asshole” “I just thought it was mutual. I felt like it was mutual. Or at least, I thought I did”, you sob, “But god… I miss him so much. Why do I have to lose him like this over a stupid misunderstanding?”. Soobin cups your face with his large hand, wiping away your tears, looking at you with pitiful eyes, “You should try talking to him. Maybe you two can at least be friends” “I can’t be his friend. Not when I know he holds someone else the way he held me”. He nods,“That’s okay. You don’t have to be his friend. But… at least try to talk to him. Just to… to be rejected”. You blink at him, stunned, “What?” “I know it sounds ridiculous, but… it’ll be easier for you to move on that way. Promise me you’ll at least consider it”. You hesitate, then nod. “Okay, Soobin. I promise”.

But deep down, you’re not sure you have the courage to let him go.

At least, not yet.

Days passed, and everything you did hurt. From waking up in the morning knowing that Beomgyu was never really yours, to having to watch him making out with his new girlfriend in the college hallways. In class, everything is unbearable— you stare at the professors' slides, but you don’t hear their voices. By the time you realize it, the lecture is already over, and your notebook remains blank. Your body feels heavy as you head home, doing nothing but throwing yourself on your bed and crying. You can’t even remember the last time you attended an academic league meeting.

You drag yourself down the streets, seeing him in every face. The guys with long hair are just reminders of the person he erased by changing his appearance as if he wanted the version of himself that had you to never have existed. But you remember— and you doubt you'll forget anytime soon.

Until one day, you go to meet Huening Kai in the music room and instead, you find him— Choi Beomgyu, pulling a guitar out of its case.

Immediately, you freeze. Your fingers stiffen around the doorknob, your feet know you should turn around and leave before he notices your presence, but the only thing they manage to do is stay rooted to the spot, as if the floor beneath you had turned into quicksand. Inevitably, his gaze lifts and lands on your rigid figure. He tries to mask whatever is going on inside him, but you can see the storm of thoughts flashing across his face, "Yn…", his voice makes you shiver. It feels distant since you haven't heard it in so long, yet at the same time, it's as familiar as your own.

Your eyes land on the shimmering ring around his finger, you feel stabbed. You just want to run and yet, you just want to hold him, to pull him against your chest and never let him go again. You shift your ankle, ready to leave, but then you remember the advice all your friends gave you: Let him reject you and move on.

Taking a deep breath, you step inside the room, letting the door close behind you, "Have you seen Huening Kai?" "Huening? Not here" "What?!”. You grab your phone, the first notification coming from him:

‘Family drama with Lea 🫠’

‘I’ll call you later’

It was delivered an hour ago. You exhale deeply. So this encounter could have been avoided. Great. But you move forward. Sooner or later, this moment was bound to come. Slipping your phone back into your pocket, you say, "I thought you majored in Fine Arts" "I do, but I come here from time to time to play". He lifts the guitar in his hands, pretending he doesn’t know where you’re actually trying to go with this. "I guess I think I know you too well when in reality, I don’t know anything at all".

He watches you for a few seconds before setting the guitar down on its stand and stepping closer, "Look, Yn…". But your voice, thick with unshed tears, cuts him off. You’ve been overwhelmed with emotions for weeks, "I-I don’t understand. Why are you with her?" "Because I love her" "L-love?" "Yeah, Yn. I love her". He says he loves her but he has no emotion in his voice. "But... what about me? What about us?" "We had nothing, Yn. It was just a summer trip between friends". Friends. His words hit you like an arrow right in the middle of your chest, "Friends?! What about the things we did…”, you lower your voice, “.... In the bedroom?” “It was pure physical, Yn. I was just… in the mood”. No fucking way that motherfucker is saying that. “Don’t tell me you didn’t feel it too, Choi Beomgyu! I know you felt it!” “How are you so sure, Yn!? Huh?! Did I say something?”, his voice is loud, angry, “Cause I felt it too…”. Did you really just… confused everything again? Did he actually use you and you weren't even aware of that?!

He buries his face in his hands, letting a frustrated groan out, you are making everything more difficult for him. When he looks at you again he seems tired, his whole energy being drained, "Look, Yn, I’m sorry, but…" "No! Don’t apologize”, you interrupt him, sniffing, “I think it’s time for me to be rejected by you, to move on with my life. But for some reason, I still held on this tiny shred of hope, thinking you'd give me a real explanation or something that actually made sense", you chuckle, bitter, “I’m so stupid” "Yn... I like you. But liking you isn’t enough to make this work” "I never wanted to be ‘enough’, Beomgyu, I just... wanted to be with you".

His gaze burns yours, you know he wants to say something— it’s written in his eyes. But nothing comes out of his mouth, the only sound you hear from him is his heavy breath, “I thought you felt the same way, but I was wrong. I see that now”, you pause again, giving him one last chance to say something, to try to fix things, but you only get his silence. “Goodbye, Beomgyu”, are your last words before walking out the door— without thinking twice or looking back.

The following months were chaotic. You entered focus mode, and your life began to revolve around one thing only— your studies. Well, not entirely. You also spent a lot of time with your friends, both old and new, the ones you made over the summer. They all became your biggest support system. Soobin, who studies computer science, helped you create incredible slides. Yeonjun picked out your outfit. Taehyun prepared an energy packed snack just for you. And as always, Yunah and Kai made sure to drown you in love.

Now, standing on the auditorium stage, with all those people seated, waiting for you to begin your presentation, the nerves don’t feel as overwhelming anymore— thanks to them. And Beomgyu? You still think about him, but you've realized that your life is still a good one, with or without him.

The room is silent, except for the faint sound of chairs shifting as students adjust in their seats. Your heart pounds in your chest— ironically, the very organ you studied for this presentation. You don’t see him, but Beomgyu is there, standing in the back, arms crossed over his chest. He shouldn't be here, but he is.

The lights darken.

You clear your throat and bring the microphone close to your lips, "The heart does more than just pump blood. For centuries, it has been a symbol of human emotions, and modern science confirms that this is more than just a metaphor”. The slide changes, revealing a diagram of the heart and its connections to the nervous system, "The heart is not just a pump that sends blood through the body. It contains a huge network with about 40,000 neurons, allowing it to communicate directly with the brain. This communication happens through the vagus nerve, a neural pathway that carries signals between the brain and vital organs”.

You pause, scanning the room. Beomgyu is there, in the back, eyes locked on you. The last thing you expected was to see him. However, you stand firm, "When we feel intense emotions, the heart reacts before the brain has even fully processed the information. That’s why our heartbeat speeds up before an important moment, or why we feel a tightness in our chest when we’re sad”.

You move to the next slide: a graph showing how heart rate fluctuates in response to different emotions, "Our heart doesn’t just respond to emotions, it can influence them. Studies show that heart rate directly affects brain regions responsible for emotional processing. Breathing techniques that regulate the heartbeats, such as meditation, help reduce stress and anxiety”.

You step slightly to the side, making space for the next slide: an image of a human heart intertwined with brain waves. "The brain releases hormones like oxytocin, the so-called ‘love molecule,’ and adrenaline, which prepares us for intense emotional reactions. The heart doesn’t produce these hormones, but it responds to them, regulating how we experience emotions in our body”.

Finally, the last slide appears: the drawing Beomgyu made for you—a human heart, sketched in graphite on a notepad, rich in detail despite its rough edges. In the corner of the paper, is written:

‘This my heart, I’m giving it to you’.

That's the same drawing that had been hidden in the paper he secretly slipped into the pocket of the hoodie you were wearing. Almost like he was quite literally giving you his heart at that moment.

This time, it’s his heart that races.

"The heart and the brain work together to shape our emotions. Maybe that’s why, when we lose someone or something important, it feels like something inside us has physically broken. Because, in a figurative way, it has”. Your voice wavers on the last sentence, and finally, your eyes find his. For a second, everything else disappears— the classmates, the professor, the slides, it’s just the two of you and the weight of everything left unsaid. You continue, "But the heart also adapts”, you smile, shifting your gaze to your friends in the front row, all of them watching with eyes full of pride. "It can hurt, but it keeps beating. And that means we move forward”.

And then, the lights bright again. The silence lasts only for a moment before the professor starts clapping, followed by everyone else in the room.

But Beomgyu doesn’t move. He stays there, frozen, his eyes fixed on you, as if he were reliving something he tried so hard to forget— yet failed miserably.

And in that moment, you knew your words had reached exactly where they needed to.

The air inside that auditorium feels increasingly rare, Beomgyu needs to get out of there. Heading straight for his locker, he grabs his skateboard and headphones before making his way to the skate park— the only place where his mind goes blank, focusing only on what he is doing.

The late afternoon is cold, the sky moonless, and the faint streetlights create long shadows across the empty park. Beomgyu kicks his skateboard forward, his headphones hanging around his neck, there’s no music playing. The sound of the wheels gliding over the concrete is the only thing filling the silence. He shouldn't have been in that auditorium.

After the presentation ended, he left before anyone could come after him, but his mind is still trapped on that stage— trapped on you. The words echoes in his head:

"But the heart also adapts…

… It can hurt, but it keeps beating. And that means we move forward”.

Have you really moved on? Beomgyu runs his tongue over his lips, feeling a bitter taste in his mouth— the taste of regret. He wants to believe you have. He wants to believe your words weren’t meant for him. But then why does it feel like every single one of them had been constructed specifically to bury him deeper in his own remorse?

He bends his knees, picking up speed, the wind cutting against his face. If he can go faster, maybe he can overtake the suffocating grip on his chest. But no matter how fast he goes, the truth always catches him up. The image of the last slide flashes through his mind: his drawing. You still have it. You still see meaning in it.

His gaze shifts to the flickering park lights, his chest rising and falling in an uneven rhythm. Your words came back like a punch to the gut:

"It feels like something inside us has physically broken. Because, in a figurative way, it has”.

Your heart had broken— because of him. The realization hit harder than any fall he ever took. And then, as if his body had decided to punish him, the skateboard’s wheel get stuck on a crack in the pavement.

The impact comes too fast.

He doesn’t even have time to react before the world starts spinning, his weight pushing him forward, his hands instinctively reaching out to stop the fall. A shock runs through his arm as soon as he hits the ground, his body sliding against the rough concrete. His skateboard rolled away, stopping only when it hit the park’s railing. Beomgyu stays there, immobile, eyes fixed on the ring around his finger— completely meaningless. He doesn’t know what hurt more— the sting of the fresh wound on his skin or the certainty that he lost something he might never get back.

The cold pavement chills him to the bone, still he doesn’t move. His chest rises and falls in short, uneven breaths. The adrenaline masks the pain for a moment, but then it comes back in waves. His arm burns and his shoulder throbs in a way that makes his stomach turn. He closes his eyes shut. Idiot— that’s what he is. An idiot for thinking he could just let you go and feel nothing. An idiot for realizing too late that he will never be able to convince himself that you were just a summer distraction.

He takes a deep breath in, trying to compose himself, but the moment he pushes up on his right arm to get up, a sharp jolt of pain spreads through his shoulder, forcing a low groan from his lips. “Shit…”, he rolls on his side, body tense with pain and lays there for a few more seconds, staring at his skateboard standing a few feet away.

Different from when he fell the day he met you, there’s nothing to laugh about right now.

That’s how one of the guys of the skatepark finds him— sprawled on the ground with a blank expression, like the fall had hurt something beyond just his body, “Dude, are you okay?”. Beomgyu blinks a few times before responding, his throat dry, “I’m great”. The attempt of sarcasm is weak. The guy doesn’t seem convinced but doesn’t push it, tho. Instead, he crouches down, grabs Beomgyu’s skateboard, and offers him a hand.

Beomgyu hesitates before accepting the help, pulling himself up with a grimace. The pain in his right shoulder is unbearable, and he knows something isn’t right, “You should go to the hospital”, the guy suggests, arms crossed. Beomgyu let out a short, humorless laugh, “I don’t need to”. But the moment he takes a step forward, his body wavers, pain spreading through every fiber of his being, “Great”, he mutters. He doesn’t want to admit it, but he needs help.

And that’s exactly why, less than an hour later, he finds himself sitting in one of the hospital’s cold hallways, his arm resting on his lap, the cut on his elbow covered by his flannel shirt. The hospital smells like disinfectant and melancholy. Beomgyu watches the nurses and patients passing by, his head still spinning— but not from the fall. Because of you. Always because of you.

And then, as if the universe decided to make his night even worse, he hears a familiar voice echoing down the corridor— your voice. His heart skips a beat. He looks up at the exact moment you appear at the reception desk, worry written all over your face as you speak to the nurse behind the counter, “Sorry, but what’s the patient’s name?”, she asks.

You are there. And just behind you, Soobin and Taehyun, who exchange tense glances. Beomgyu clenches his jaw, fingers tightening around the chair's armrest. When he called Soobin, he didn’t expect him to bring you along. The last thing he needs is you to see him like this.

But it is already too late, your eyes finally meet his. For a moment, neither of you move. Beomgyu’s heart pounds against his ribs, your words still hammering in his head:

“It can hurt, but it keeps beating. And that means we move forward”.

But he hadn’t moved on. And judging by the pain in your eyes, neither had you.

“Beomgyu?”, your voice comes out as quiet as a whisper, and then you are already walking toward him— with quick, hesitant steps. Soobin and Taehyun follow you, stopping a little behind, without saying anything. When you stand in front of him, your eyes trail over his face, down to the cut on his elbow, and how he grasps his shoulder, “W-what happened?”. Beomgyu opens his mouth to answer but hesitates— he doesn’t want to tell you the truth. Imagine looking into your eyes and saying: I fell because I was thinking about you. Because my mind was stuck on that damn presentation. On your smile. On your voice.

Saying it out loud would only make it all even more real. So he just shrugs, or at least tries to, because the movement sends a sharp pain through his shoulder, making his face twist in discomfort, “It was just a fall”. You narrow your eyes, clearly unconvinced, “Just a fall!? You have a cut on your arm and you’re holding your shoulder like it’s dislocated. That’s not ‘just a fall,’ Beomgyu!”, disbelief is evident in your voice. But he looks away, “It’s not a big deal”.

Without patience and without asking for permission, you kneel beside him, fingers lightly touching the bloodstained fabric of his flannel. He holds his breath. Your touch is gentle, but it makes something twist inside him. Your face is close enough that he can see every detail— the long eyelashes, the curve of the lips he had kissed once, now frowned in worry. And he never wanted something so badly as he wants you to look at him the way you used to.

But then, you break the silence, pulling him from his thoughts, "Why do you always do this?", he blinks, "Do what?" "Get yourself hurt”. Beomgyu clenches his jaw, for a second, he considers answering with a joke, saying it’s because you’re always there to save him. In a dismissive tone, like he always does. But he doesn’t have that right anymore— it’s written in your eyes.

Before he can say anything, the nurse calls his name, "Do you need someone to accompany you, Mr. Choi?". He looks at the three of you, waiting, hoping that even after everything, one of you might volunteer, "Where’s your girlfriend?”, Soobin teases. "I- I didn’t call her”, Beomgyu mumbles, voice low, almost ashamed. "I’ll go with you”, you don’t say it as a suggestion or a question— it’s a statement.

It’s not a good idea to be alone with you. But he doesn’t have the strength to say no. So he just nods. And as you both walk into the examination room, Beomgyu has the strange feeling that, no matter how shattered his body is, there’s another part of him that hurts even more.

The examination room is small, with white walls and bright lighting. Beomgyu sits on the examination table, watching you in silence as the nurse cleans the cut on his arm. You don’t say anything, but your shoulders are tense, arms crossed as if trying to shield yourself from something. The tension is palpable. When the nurse finishes bandaging him up, she lets him know that the doctor will be there soon to examine his shoulder.

As soon as she leaves, you take a step forward, finally breaking the silence. “Are you going to tell me now what really happened?”. Beomgyu exhales sharply and looks away, “I already told you, I just fell” “Beomgyu”, you say his name firmly. He closes his eyes for a moment, trying to ignore the feeling of drowning. When he opens them again, you're still there, waiting. Even when he doesn't deserve it.

He runs his tongue over his dry lips before murmuring, “I was distracted”, you frown, “By what?”. He hesitates but decides to tell the truth before he can stop himself, “You”.

The silence that follows is deafening. You blink, startled, “What?!”. Beomgyu lets out a humorless chuckle, running a hand through his hair, “I was thinking about your presentation”. He lifts his gaze to meet yours, his voice low, almost defeated, “Your words, mainly”. You don’t say anything, but he notices the way your breathing falters. He laughs again, shaking his head, “About how the heart adapts. How it suffers but keeps beating”. He swallows hard, then looks at you as if finally admitting to himself something he had been denying for months, “But mine didn’t”.

The air between you grows heavier.

You part your lips, but no words come out. So he continues, his voice rough now, “I thought forgetting you was the right thing to do. That it would be easier”. He lets out a short, bitter laugh, “But it’s not. If anything, it’s worse”. Your eyes shimmer, and Beomgyu doesn’t know if it’s from the light or something else.

You finally break the silence, your voice soft but steady, “Then why did you do it?”. Beomgyu’s chest tightens, “Because I was scared”, he runs a hand down his face, exhausted— running away from you is exhausting. “I was scared of hurting you. Of not being enough for you and then losing you, Yn”. He laughs at his own stupidity, “I was terrified of you losing you, but in the end, I just ended up hurting both of us, didn’t I?”. You keep looking at him, your gaze piercing through all the walls he tried to build. When you finally speak, your voice is a whisper, “Yes. Yes, you did”.

He opens his mouth to say something, to tell you how sorry he is, when the door opens, and the doctor walks in. And just like that, it ends with words stuck in his throat. Beomgyu closes his mouth, swallowing everything he still wants to say. You take a step back, arms crossing over your chest again.

“So, Choi Beomgyu, right?”, the doctor glances at the papers, “Looks like you got lucky. The shoulder isn’t dislocated, just a bad bruise. I’ll prescribe an anti-inflammatory and recommend some rest for a few days. No skating for the next 2 months”. Beomgyu lets out a small relieved grin, “That’s good”. You remain silent, but he can feel your gaze burning into him. “I’ll ask the nurse to bring your discharge papers”. The doctor gives a brief nod and leaves, once again leaving you two alone.

The silence returns.

Beomgyu looks down at the bandage on his arm, flexing his elbow slowly. He knows he has to say something before it’s too late, “Yn…”, you lift your eyes, “I know that…” “Why did you go?”. Your question catches him off guard. You cross your arms tighter, as if holding yourself together, “To the presentation. You weren’t supposed to be there. But you showed up anyway”. Beomgyu blinks, “I…”, he sighs, running a hand through his hair, “Because I missed you. I needed to see you” “Did you at least get what you wanted?”. The pain and resentment in your voice are so sharp it physically hurts him.

Beomgyu shakes his head, “No. I know it was selfish of me” “You hurt me, Beomgyu, you know that?”. He closes his eyes for a moment, the weight of guilt pressing down on him like a burden too heavy to bear, “I know”. When he opens his eyes again, his voice is raw, honest, “And I hate myself for it”

Your shoulders tremble slightly, but you hold yourself firm. Beomgyu inhales deeply before continuing, “I ran away because I thought it would be easier for you. But watching you move on without me… it’s unbearable. I don’t want to pretend I don’t care anymore. That I don’t…”. He stops, his throat tightening. You wait, knowing that pushing him won’t help. But then Beomgyu forces the words out, even though they hurt, “That I don’t love you”

You don’t move, don’t blink, just stare at him like you’re trying to process what you just heard. Beomgyu exhales, feeling like he just ripped something open inside him, “Because I do”. His voice falters, overflowing with emotions, “And I’m an idiot for only admitting it now”

You blink a few times, trying to push back the tears. What is left to say after a confession like that?

Suddenly the nurse walks in with the discharge papers, and the moment is broken, giving you time to think, “I need you to sign here, please”. Beomgyu takes the pen, his hand trembling slightly as he signs. When he’s done, he looks at you again, waiting— waiting for any reaction. But you only avoid his gaze and murmur, “Let’s go. I’ll take you home”.

Beomgyu nods, swallowing hard. He still didn’t have an answer, but you didn't yell, didn't hit him, or threw anything at him, which had to be a good sign. Or at least, he liked to think so.

And maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance— a chance to get you back.

The silence in the car is heavy, dense— just like it in the hospital. You keep your eyes fixed on the road, hands gripping the steering wheel tightly, while Beomgyu watches you from the corner of his eye, his body aching against the seat. "You drive too fast”, he comments, breaking the silence.

You scoff but don't slow down, "And you skate like you have 9 lives”. Beomgyu smirks, "Maybe I just like the adrenaline" "Or maybe you’re just stupid". He lets out a low chuckle, "Strong possibility". Your grip even tighter on the wheel, "Are you mad at me?". His voice is more serious now.

You bite your lip but don't answer. Beomgyu leans in slightly, ignoring the pain in his shoulder, "If it’s because of what I said in the hospital, I…" "It’s not just about what you said, Beomgyu!”, you cut him off, frustration thick in your voice, "It’s about everything. About how you left. About how you came back. About how...". Your voice fades, your fingers loosening on the wheel.

Beomgyu watches as your throat moves when you swallow hard. This time, he waits for you. Until you exhale slowly and, for the first time, turn your head to look at him, "You can’t just disappear, destroy me, and then come back saying you love me like that’s supposed to fix everything”. Beomgyu’s chest tightened, fear swallowing him whole, "I know". You scoff again, “Do you?” "Yes", he wets his lips, "But I’m still here, trying, ain't I?". He leans in a little more, his face now dangerously close to yours, "And so are you”.

Your jaw clenches, "Don’t test me, Beomgyu”. He smiles, "Why not?" "Because I’m still mad” "I like when you’re mad”, he murmurs, his voice low— almost like he was testing you. "You look sexy like this”. You turn to face him fully, your gazes locking for the first time in what felt like forever. And there it is— the tension that always existed between you, the spark that never went out.

Your eyes flicker down to his lips, and Beomgyu notices. The corner of his mouth lifts slightly, "You miss me”, he taunts, voice slow, provocative. "I don’t”, you lied. Beomgyu lets out a soft laugh, "You’re such a bad liar, babygirl”.

The nickname triggers something in you— the last night of the trip, your first and only time together.

Your fingers abruptly let go of the wheel as you suddenly park the car, hitting the brakes hard. Beomgyu’s body jerks forward slightly, but he barely notices. Because the next thing he sees is you turning to him, breathing heavily, "You wanna know what I feel?", you ask, your eyes burning into him. He doesn't answer, he just holds your gaze, his fingers unconsciously gripping the fabric of his ripped jeans.

You lean in, "I feel anger, I feel frustration", your face is even closer now, "I feel like...". You stop, your lips hovering just a breath away from his.

But Beomgyu doesn't move. Doesn't even breathe. "Like what?", he murmurs, voice almost a whisper. Your gaze flickers to his lips again.

And then, you let out a shaky breath, close your eyes for a second, and... pull back. Beomgyu blinks, surprised, already missing the warmth of your breath.

You turn back to the wheel, start the engine again, and let out a short laugh, like you are mocking yourself, "I’m not falling for this again”, you say more to yourself than to him.

Beomgyu watches you in silence for a moment. Then, he leans back in his seat and smirks, satisfied, "Let’s see how long that lasts".

With Beomgyu, you felt everything:

The euphoria of falling in love for the first time,

the shy giggles,

the tension between your bodies,

the sweaty hands,

the pounding heart,

the constant tingling in your stomach.

One hundred times.

And still, he manages to still make you feel like that over and over again.

The car comes back to the road, but now, the electricity in the air between you is almost asphyxiating.

He glances down at his hands, the moonlight catching the silver ring on his finger. Without a second thought, he grips at it with the little strength he had left and yanks it off, tossing it out the window without looking back.

Your lips parts slightly, disbelief flickering across your face.

And in that moment, you both know.

It isn’t over.

It never has been.

EPILOGUE:

The evening breeze blows softly, rustling the leaves around the skatepark. The sky is painted in shades of orange, and you wonder— not for the first time— how the hell you had let Beomgyu convince you to do this.

You look at the skateboard in front of you, hesitant. Knee pads, elbow pads, helmet— you looked more prepared for battle than for skating. Beomgyu, on the other hand, watches everything with evident amusement, "You look like you're about to face the apocalypse, not just learn how to skate", he teases, leaning casually against the railing, arms crossed, a mischievous smile curving his lips.

"Easy for you to say", you shoot back, eyeing the board suspiciously, "You're not the one who is risking falling and breaking your teeth". He chuckles, pushing off the railing to step closer. The warmth of his presence is almost tangible as he stops behind you, his hands settling gently on your shoulders, "Don't worry, princess", he murmurs, way too close to your ear, sending a shiver down your spine, “If you fall, I'll catch you”.

Before you can say anything, his hands slide down to your waist, delicate yet firm, making your breath hitch for a second. He leans in slightly, lips hovering just near your ear, "Relax. You trust me, don’t you?". You scoff, trying to ignore the heat rising to your face, "You're the first to laugh when I fall. Don’t play the nice guy now”.

Beomgyu smirks, his hands slowly gliding down your arms before gripping them firmly, "Trust me”, he whispers, his voice low and lazy, carrying that usual calm tone that makes your heart pick up speed. "Put one foot on the board… yeah, just like that. Now relax” "Relax?!". You let out a dry laugh as he slides one hand back to your waist, his fingers pressing lightly against your side, "I'm about to eat the pavement, and you want me to relax?".

He dips his head closer to your ear, his smile practically audible, "You'll be fine. I promise". You take a deep breath, trying to ignore the way his touch sends warmth coursing through your chest. His hand still guides yours as he adjusts your posture, positioning you just right before stepping back, his gaze following your every move.

"Now, just push off slowly with your back foot and let the board slide". You follow his instructions, but the second you try to move forward, the skateboard shakes beneath your feet. Your heart skips a beat, and you instinctively grab his arm. Beomgyu laughs, clearly enjoying himself, "Look at that, already holding onto me? We haven’t even started yet" "I swear, if you tease me one more time, I…” "You’ll do what?". He cut in, leaning even closer, his eyes sparkling with challenge, "Knock me over? Because honestly, I think you're the one who's gonna hit the ground first”. You stare at him, your stomach twisting in the most frustrating way possible. Beomgyu has this effect on you— he knows exactly how to push you to the edge. But you aren't going to give him the satisfaction.

So instead of responding, you let go of his arm, fix your posture and, taking a deep breath, push off with your back foot. The skateboard rolls smoothly, and you feel the balance settle into your body.

For a moment, there is silence. Then Beomgyu smiles, walking alongside you, his hands hovering near your sides— not touching, but close enough for you to know that he is there, ready to catch you at any moment. "Look at you, already mastering it", he teases you, his voice carrying amusement. "It's only because you're still holding on”, you shoot back. "Oh, really?”, he raises an eyebrow, the challenge glinting in his brown eye, "Are you telling me to let go?" "No!", you answer way too fast, and he laughs. "So just admit it”, he leans in, his nose almost brushing your cheek, "You like it when I hold you like this”.

Your face burns, and you bump your shoulder into him lightly, "Shut up and teach me properly” "Yes, ma'am!”. He grins, his hands returning to your waist, thumbs subtly brushing over the fabric of your shirt. His laughter is light, effortless— just like everything the two of you had always been.

And between the teasing and laughter, you realize it isn't just about learning how to skate. It is about how, after everything, he is still there. About how his hands find yours at the right moments. About how his laugh is the last thing you hear before falling— and the first thing pulling you back into his arms.

In the end, you never really needed him to hold you.

But still, he did.

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