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iyoonjh · 13 days ago

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Beyond Plus Ultra! – The anatomy of falling in love

Chapter 20: Wait, Did I Just Trigger a Flag? (Oh No.)

wc: 3141 words

It felt like the whole week had passed in less than two days.

Time had slipped through their fingers like seawater, soft and golden and gone before anyone was ready. Soobin couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed this much. Or maybe—he realized—he never had. Everything about the beach trip felt like a vivid dream: the salt on his skin, the sticky-sweet taste of canned cocktails, the late mornings and later nights, and the way Y/N smiled at him when they thought no one else was looking.

She’d had just as much fun as he did. They all had.

Somehow, over these days spent barefoot and sun-drenched—cooking together, napping in mismatched hammocks, getting drunk on fruit juice and cheap vodka, sprinting into the ocean at dusk or doing absolutely nothing on the porch—their chaotic group had become something real. The kind of real that felt unshakable. The kind of real that sneaks up on you and makes a home.

Jake had unexpectedly bonded with Heeseung and Beomgyu in what could only be described as a high-energy disaster trio. Even though the two were the absolute opposite of “athletic,” they had something that matched Jake’s tempo: wild imagination and relentless chaos. Instead of laps, they offered obscure anime references and dramatic replays of RPG campaign drama. And Jake—being Jake—met all of that with unfiltered enthusiasm. They were now apparently planning a cross-campus LARP night–Jake had no idea what LARP was; he never questioned it.

Ni-ki, deep into his druid-core identity, had formed a spiritual alliance with Leehan—a pairing that had taken everyone by surprise. Leehan, who had previously existed in everyone’s minds as “the guy with fish facts,” turned out to be weirdly magnetic. Quiet but confident, like he knew exactly who he was. People started gravitating toward him. Giselle in particular had taken to bombarding him with a daily stream of oceanic inquiries—roughly fifteen per day—ranging from “Can a jellyfish fall in love?” to “If mermaids existed, would they be cold-blooded?” Leehan answered them all with the patience of a monk, even when Giselle clearly retained none of the information.

Sunoo, Yunjin, and Hueningkai had become their own unit. At first glance, they seemed like an unlikely trio—but the longer they spent together, the more they operated like they shared one collective brain cell. They spent hours huddled around the kitchen island baking “experimental cookies” (rumor had it Jake had supplied the secret ingredient—don’t ask what), laying on the floor listening to throwback K-pop, and dissecting campus drama like it was an Olympic sport. By the end of the trip, they’d already scheduled a weekly dinner once they got back to the city in a group chat named “Neurodivergent and Still Hot.”

Jungwon had become quietly obsessed with Taehyun—not in a weird way, but with a fascination that bordered on anthropological. He’d known Taehyun from the soccer team, sure, but that version of him had been quiet, hardworking, and terrifyingly good at headers. This version? The one pulling cards from his sleeve and doing sleight-of-hand at the breakfast table? Jungwon had not seen him coming.

“I thought he was lying,” Jungwon whispered to Karina at one point.

“He’s not,” Karina replied, crossing her arms. “And I’m going to figure out how he does it.”

She followed Taehyun around like a shadow, demanding repeat performances of every trick and staring at his hands like a hawk. She had yet to catch the illusion. Her frustration only grew.

Meanwhile, Jay, Y/N, and Sunghoon had found their rhythm too. The three of them often stayed up long after everyone else had gone to bed, bundled in hoodies and lying under throw blankets on the porch, whispering about horror films and rating haunted houses. Soobin joined them often—especially when Y/N patted the space beside her with that quiet smile that said she’d been waiting.

And even Yeonjun, who had previously declared himself Jay’s rival in what could only be described as a one-man drama arc, had let it go. He still rolled his eyes every time Jay spoke—but now he did it while sitting next to him, passing him the bag of chips. Progress.

Now, the beach house was too quiet.

Not actually quiet—there were still footsteps creaking across the floorboards upstairs, the sound of zippers and someone shouting about missing flip-flops, and Jake’s voice echoing from the porch as he sang something vaguely ABBA—but in Soobin’s chest? Silence.

That cold, echoing kind of silence that only comes when something good is ending.

He stood alone in the hallway, suitcase half-packed behind him, staring out through the narrow window at the stretch of sand beyond the porch. It was golden outside—sun-drenched and perfect. Like nothing could go wrong in a place like this.

Which, of course, made it worse.

Soobin felt it. That weight in his stomach. The coil of unease tightening in his ribs.

This week had been the best week of his life. Objectively. It was full of the kind of laughter you didn’t plan, the kind of chaos you told stories about years later. It was full of soft mornings with Y/N in the same bed. Her fingers tracing the inside of his wrist. Her voice whispering his name in the dark. Her telling him things that made his body shiver.

He should’ve been happy. Floating. He should’ve been basking in whatever this was turning into.

But instead?

He was spiraling.

Because he didn’t know how to keep something like this. He didn’t even know how to trust that it was real. And the more perfect it felt, the more convinced he was that he’d imagined all of it.

That she would go home and return to her real life.

That she’d wake up and remember she was Y/N—the girl who lit up every room she walked into—and he was still Soobin.

Just Soobin.

He pressed his palms into the windowsill, heart in his throat.

“She kissed you,” he whispered to himself. “She chose you.”

But his brain was already firing back. Yeah, for now. But what happens when she remembers she could have anyone?

He squeezed his eyes shut.

Footsteps behind him.

“Soobin?”

Yeonjun.

He turned. “Hey.”

Yeonjun leaned against the wall. “You look like you’re five seconds from passing out.”

“I’m fine,” Soobin said too fast.

Yeonjun raised an eyebrow.

And then—like a dam breaking—Soobin exhaled.

“No, actually, I’m not fine,” he muttered, dragging a hand through his hair. “I feel like I’m about to mess everything up.”

Yeonjun straightened. “Talk to me.”

Soobin crossed his arms, eyes flicking back toward the window. “It’s Y/N. I—I don’t know what we are. Or what she wants. Or what I’m doing.”

“I thought things were good.”

“They are good,” Soobin said anxiously. “They’re too good. That’s the problem.”

Yeonjun tilted his head. “Walk me through that.”

Soobin laughed, short and humorless. “It’s like—I keep thinking it’s a dream. Like any second now I’m going to wake up and she’s gonna be gone. And the worst part? I wouldn’t even blame her.”

“Why would she leave?”

Soobin swallowed. “Because I’m not enough for her.”

Behind them, a hallway creaked.

Neither noticed.

“Come on,” Yeonjun said.

“No, think about it,” Soobin continued, his voice rising a little. “She’s this incredible, terrifyingly cool person who knows who she is. And I’m—what? Some awkward nerd who doesn’t even know how to deal with this level of affection without spiraling.”

Yeonjun opened his mouth, but Soobin was already on a roll.

“She’s gonna wake up one day and realize she could be with someone better. Someone who actually knows what they’re doing. Jake, probably. Or Jay. Or literally any other guy.”

His voice cracked, and he didn’t care.

“Those nights? That was probably just something in the air. The beach. The moon. Whatever. It didn’t mean anything. Not really. She was just being kind.”

From behind the corner of the hallway, Y/N went still.

She hadn’t meant to hear anything. She was just looking for her book—the one she left on the upstairs shelf. But now she stood there, completely frozen, her blood gone cold.

And her heart?

It cracked just a little, just enough to hollow her chest.

Inside the room, Soobin let out a shaky breath.

“I mean, yeah. She kissed me. She slept next to me. We, you know, did things. But she probably does that with guys all the time. That doesn’t mean she wants me. She’s way too good at this.”

Yeonjun flinched. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do,” Soobin snapped. “She’s so good at this. At everything. What if I’m just the next placeholder in her life until someone better comes along? Because let's be honest, I don't bring much to the table”

A silence fell.

Y/N backed away, quietly, like her shadow might give her away.

She didn’t hear what Yeonjun said next.

She didn’t care.

She was already walking down the stairs, heart thudding loud in her ears. Her fingers curled tight around the railing, holding herself steady like the floor might give out beneath her–or worse, like she would cry.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂

Later that morning, the bags lined the front hall like abandoned memories. Flip-flops slapped quietly against the tile as people made their final rounds—grabbing chargers, checking under beds for earrings and earbuds, stuffing beach towels into overstuffed totes.

Sunoo hummed absently to himself while folding his hoodie with surgical precision. Karina had her sunglasses on indoors, as if to shield her from the weight of goodbye. Jake was muttering instructions about how to Tetris the luggage into the trunk, while Beomgyu insisted on carrying a pool noodle in the back seat–he said it was for self defense.

Leehan taped a note to the fridge that read WE LOVED YOU. NEVER CHANGE. PLEASE WATER THE SEAWEED SHRINE.

Even that earned only a few tired laughs.

Outside, the sun was blindingly bright—but no one rushed to step into it. They lingered. Drifted between rooms. Pretended to double-check bags they’d already zipped.

And beneath it all, a quiet tension hummed like static.

Soobin stood near the doorway of his room, half in the light, backpack slung over one shoulder and his phone clenched too tightly in his hand. He hadn’t seen her all morning. Not really. She hadn’t come down for breakfast, hadn’t said good morning, hadn’t even looked at him when she passed in the hallway earlier.

It was a hollow kind of quiet. The kind that builds in your chest and stretches, aching, while the world moves on like nothing happened.

He tried to tell himself it was fine. That she just needed space. That everything would be okay.

Then she walked into the room.

Her face was unreadable.

Soobin’s chest clenched.

She didn’t say anything at first. Just stood there, arms crossed, gaze sharp in that way that didn’t need volume to cut him open. She looked like a kicked puppy, but fierce at the same time.

And when she finally spoke—

“I heard everything.”

Soobin’s heart sank so fast it made him nauseous.

She took a careful step closer. “You really think that little of me?”

He blinked. “What? No, I—Y/N, that’s not—”

“You think I kissed you because it was the vibe?” Her voice cracked on the word. “Because I was caught up in the moonlight? Do you hear how that sounds?”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he said quickly. “I was spiraling—”

“I know you were spiraling, Soobin. That’s the whole point.” Her voice dropped, hurt blooming underneath every syllable. “You spiral and you don’t tell me. You doubt everything good that happens and you don’t think I notice?”

Soobin flinched.

“I opened myself up to you,” she said, quieter now. “I let you in, I trusted you with parts of myself I never thought I could share with someone. I trusted that you saw me. That you wanted me the way I wanted you.”

“I do,” he whispered, throat tight. “God, I do.”

“Then why would you say those things?” she asked, voice shaking now, a pool of tears forming in her eyes. “Why would you throw my feelings away like that behind a closed door?”

“I didn’t mean to,” he said. “I was scared. I’ve never had anything like this. I didn’t think I deserved it.”

She blinked hard, once. Twice. “It hurts that you don’t see what I see in you.”

“I don’t know how,” Soobin admitted, voice breaking. “I look at you and I see everything. And then I look at myself and I feel like a joke.”

“You’re not a joke,” she said, fierce now. “You’re funny and kind and thoughtful and stupidly handsome and smarter than you think and—God—so careful with people it makes me want to scream. But you talk so low about yourself, that I don't know how I can help you.”

He opened his mouth. Nothing came out.

“I thought we were building something,” she whispered. “And maybe that was stupid of me.”

“No—Y/N, please.” Soobin stepped forward, desperation blooming behind his eyes. “It wasn’t stupid, God, Y/N, it was never stupid. I was the stupid one.”

“I believed you when you said I mattered to you.”

“You do.”

“Then act like it,” she snapped.

Silence.

They stood there, surrounded by half-packed bags and fading sunlight and the weight of things said too late.

Soobin reached for her hand, but she pulled away—gently, like it hurt to do it. Like it hurt seeing him.

“I need some time,” she said. “I need to figure out what parts of this were real.”

Soobin stood there, heart splintering like glass underfoot.

“Y/N…”

She shook her head. “Don’t.”

And then she walked away.

No slammed doors. No dramatics.

Just the soft click of the front door and the quiet that followed.

Soobin didn’t move.

Didn’t breathe, he had no idea how to.

He stood there, surrounded by the pieces of something beautiful he didn’t know how to hold.

And for the first time all week, the house felt cold.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂

He hadn’t said goodbye.

The thought kept repeating like a pulse in Soobin’s head, dull and aching, as the road unfurled in front of them. Grey sky, green blur. Rain threatening the edges of the clouds but never quite falling—just like the words he should have said.

He sat in the backseat of Yeonjun’s car, crushed between a duffel bag and his own self-loathing, while Heeseung and Hueningkai argued halfheartedly over what playlist fit the mood. Yeonjun drove like they were headed toward something brighter, something easier, but Soobin knew better.

There was no playlist that fit this feeling.

No song for you broke the best thing you ever had because you were too scared to believe it was yours.

His hoodie still smelled like her shampoo. His skin still burned with the ghost of her fingertips. His lips—his whole mouth—still remembered how she kissed when she trusted him.

And he’d ruined it.

He didn’t even know what he’d been trying to say to Yeonjun. It had started out as fear. A whimper. A confession. But somewhere in his panic, he’d let it twist into something cruel. He’d let his voice carry doubt when it should have carried faith. And of course, of course the universe would let her hear the worst of it.

It wasn’t her he didn’t trust. It was himself. But how could she know that now?

Soobin stared out the window like it could save him. The glass was cool against his temple. His reflection looked unfamiliar. Pale. Tired. Small.

How could he have looked at her—at someone who had chosen him again and again with such gentle certainty—and still believed it was temporary?

She had kissed him like it meant something.

She had held him like she wasn’t afraid.

And he had turned that into a reason to doubt her.

“I’m sorry,” he thought, again and again. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

But it was too late.

The car bumped along the highway, and he sank further into his seat, feeling like the smallest version of himself. The Soobin who had panicked and said too much. The Soobin who was still trying to figure out how to believe he was worthy of the love that had already been given.

He should’ve told her the truth.

That he hadn’t been afraid because she made him feel small.

He was afraid because she made him feel seen.

And he didn’t know what to do with that kind of light.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂

The road blurred past her window like watercolors bleeding together—soft greens, greys, sky-blue sadness.

Y/N sat in the back seat of Jungwon’s car, knees pulled to her chest, arms wrapped around them like a barrier she didn’t know how to lower anymore. The music was too low to fill the silence, and no one dared turn it up. Giselle scrolled absently on her phone beside her. Jungwon drove with one hand on the wheel and the other tapping the beat of nothing.

But Y/N didn’t hear any of it.

She heard Soobin.

“She probably does that with guys all the time.”

The words looped, cruel and sharp, like a record scratching against her ribs.

It wasn’t even what he said—it was what it meant. That he saw her heart and assumed it was borrowed. That he received her affection and thought it was disposable. That somewhere, deep down, he didn’t believe she was real. That they were real.

She’d never opened up like this before. Not with anyone. She’d let herself be soft with him, let him see the parts she kept buried under quick jokes and confident smiles. She’d let him in.

And he’d treated her feelings like they were a dream he would soon wake up from.

A summer fling.

A passing moment.

Not something true.

She squeezed her arms tighter around herself.

The part that hurt the most wasn’t the doubt—it was that she’d seen this exact fear in him. She knew he struggled. Knew he overthought. And she had chosen him anyway. Carefully. Deliberately.

And he hadn’t trusted her enough to believe in it.

She turned her face toward the window, letting the cold glass press into her cheek. Her chest felt too full, like she’d swallowed a goodbye that hadn’t been said out loud. She hadn’t even looked at him when she left. Couldn’t. Because if she had, she would’ve broken.

And he hadn’t stopped her.

No calling her name. No chase. Not even a whisper of apology.

So she sat there, small and quiet, in the backseat of a car heading back to a world where she didn’t know what they were anymore.

Where maybe they had never been anything at all.

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profiles: d&d saturday mass group | bling bling losers

author's note: hey..... hey.... how y'all doin?

i love you all and i'm sorry but it had to be done. soobin needs to learn how to trust himself. i felt so sad writing this bc tbh i had my doubts about this chapter, however, it needed to be done.

let me know what you all think!! thank you so much as always <3

taglist: @heejamas @mingyustar @wintereals @mimimiloomeelomi @wonderstrucktae @delirioastral @gomdoleemyson @i03jae @irishspringing @bunniwords @kirbrary @sirenla @saladgirl @beomieeeeeeeeeeees @uvyuri @imlonelydontsendhelp @haechology @sanriwoozzz @stormy1408 @soobinieswife @ijustwannareadstuff20 @soobskz @jkeydiary @imnotsureokay @nyanzzn @lostgirlysstuff @lilbrorufr @beomgyusluver@lveegsoi@pagesoobinie @catpjimin @t-102@sh0dor1@i-am-not-dal @bbeomgyucafe @damn-u-min-yoongi@https-yeonjun@booksxandxlace @kookssecret@jellyyjn@soobinz-wife@dazeymazey11 @jellyyjn @urfavsgf @snoopyispunk

#iyoonjh

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iyoonjh · 14 days ago

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WHOS HUENIMKAI HAD ME DYING

see you at the movies: 12. sweet home alabama

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author's note: the werecorgi was a real question tho

taglist: @jayparked @rairaiblog @nqdirr @iyoonjh @jakesimfromstatefarm @kirbrary @sunoosput4 @somuchdard @nijisanjigenshin @zoemeltigloos @the-belching-toe @usuallyunlikelyfox @lveegsoi @blvengene @5oyongdori @kittympirty @jeongingf1 @kukkurookkoo @dazzlingjaeyun @haechology @tbyangel @jaeminchiaa @v1shwa-xo @manuosorioh @s0shroe @jiyeons-closet @dollechan @luceyyy2 @bambi-lia @dazeymazey11 @mey-archive @ikeulove @delirioastral @xoenhalover @honeyedfate @reikaxslvr @i-peachesandstrawberries @luhvletters @strayy-kidz @lovenha7 @wonuziex @strayy-kidz @yuuuraaa @saeris-world @stylishcaprisuns @solonenova @dolluvsyun @hunnyuwu @rikchic @trsrworld @sucrosxi @lys2hee

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iyoonjh · 14 days ago

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just read chp 20!!!!!

(beautiful job oh my god I loved it hurt me more)

I’M SO SORRY!!! i know it was heartbreaking and evil of me to do it, but i had to be done

i promise the next tears are going to be happy ones 🫡🫡🫡

#iyoonjh #nimoots ฅ^>⩊<^ ฅ

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iyoonjh · 14 days ago

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NOOOOO! i just borrowed your soul real quick, i promise i’ll give it back to you very soon 😭😭😭😭

Beyond Plus Ultra! – The anatomy of falling in love

Chapter 20: Wait, Did I Just Trigger a Flag? (Oh No.)

wc: 3141 words

It felt like the whole week had passed in less than two days.

She’d had just as much fun as he did. They all had.

“I thought he was lying,” Jungwon whispered to Karina at one point.

“He’s not,” Karina replied, crossing her arms. “And I’m going to figure out how he does it.”

She followed Taehyun around like a shadow, demanding repeat performances of every trick and staring at his hands like a hawk. She had yet to catch the illusion. Her frustration only grew.

Now, the beach house was too quiet.

That cold, echoing kind of silence that only comes when something good is ending.

Which, of course, made it worse.

Soobin felt it. That weight in his stomach. The coil of unease tightening in his ribs.

He should’ve been happy. Floating. He should’ve been basking in whatever this was turning into.

But instead?

He was spiraling.

Because he didn’t know how to keep something like this. He didn’t even know how to trust that it was real. And the more perfect it felt, the more convinced he was that he’d imagined all of it.

That she would go home and return to her real life.

That she’d wake up and remember she was Y/N—the girl who lit up every room she walked into—and he was still Soobin.

Just Soobin.

He pressed his palms into the windowsill, heart in his throat.

“She kissed you,” he whispered to himself. “She chose you.”

But his brain was already firing back. Yeah, for now. But what happens when she remembers she could have anyone?

He squeezed his eyes shut.

Footsteps behind him.

“Soobin?”

Yeonjun.

He turned. “Hey.”

Yeonjun leaned against the wall. “You look like you’re five seconds from passing out.”

“I’m fine,” Soobin said too fast.

Yeonjun raised an eyebrow.

And then—like a dam breaking—Soobin exhaled.

“No, actually, I’m not fine,” he muttered, dragging a hand through his hair. “I feel like I’m about to mess everything up.”

Yeonjun straightened. “Talk to me.”

Soobin crossed his arms, eyes flicking back toward the window. “It’s Y/N. I—I don’t know what we are. Or what she wants. Or what I’m doing.”

“I thought things were good.”

“They are good,” Soobin said anxiously. “They’re too good. That’s the problem.”

Yeonjun tilted his head. “Walk me through that.”

“Why would she leave?”

Soobin swallowed. “Because I’m not enough for her.”

Behind them, a hallway creaked.

Neither noticed.

“Come on,” Yeonjun said.

Yeonjun opened his mouth, but Soobin was already on a roll.

“She’s gonna wake up one day and realize she could be with someone better. Someone who actually knows what they’re doing. Jake, probably. Or Jay. Or literally any other guy.”

His voice cracked, and he didn’t care.

“Those nights? That was probably just something in the air. The beach. The moon. Whatever. It didn’t mean anything. Not really. She was just being kind.”

From behind the corner of the hallway, Y/N went still.

She hadn’t meant to hear anything. She was just looking for her book—the one she left on the upstairs shelf. But now she stood there, completely frozen, her blood gone cold.

And her heart?

It cracked just a little, just enough to hollow her chest.

Inside the room, Soobin let out a shaky breath.

“I mean, yeah. She kissed me. She slept next to me. We, you know, did things. But she probably does that with guys all the time. That doesn’t mean she wants me. She’s way too good at this.”

Yeonjun flinched. “You don’t mean that.”

A silence fell.

Y/N backed away, quietly, like her shadow might give her away.

She didn’t hear what Yeonjun said next.

She didn’t care.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂

Leehan taped a note to the fridge that read WE LOVED YOU. NEVER CHANGE. PLEASE WATER THE SEAWEED SHRINE.

Even that earned only a few tired laughs.

Outside, the sun was blindingly bright—but no one rushed to step into it. They lingered. Drifted between rooms. Pretended to double-check bags they’d already zipped.

And beneath it all, a quiet tension hummed like static.

It was a hollow kind of quiet. The kind that builds in your chest and stretches, aching, while the world moves on like nothing happened.

He tried to tell himself it was fine. That she just needed space. That everything would be okay.

Then she walked into the room.

Her face was unreadable.

Soobin’s chest clenched.

She didn’t say anything at first. Just stood there, arms crossed, gaze sharp in that way that didn’t need volume to cut him open. She looked like a kicked puppy, but fierce at the same time.

And when she finally spoke—

“I heard everything.”

Soobin’s heart sank so fast it made him nauseous.

She took a careful step closer. “You really think that little of me?”

He blinked. “What? No, I—Y/N, that’s not—”

“You think I kissed you because it was the vibe?” Her voice cracked on the word. “Because I was caught up in the moonlight? Do you hear how that sounds?”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he said quickly. “I was spiraling—”

Soobin flinched.

“I do,” he whispered, throat tight. “God, I do.”

“Then why would you say those things?” she asked, voice shaking now, a pool of tears forming in her eyes. “Why would you throw my feelings away like that behind a closed door?”

“I didn’t mean to,” he said. “I was scared. I’ve never had anything like this. I didn’t think I deserved it.”

She blinked hard, once. Twice. “It hurts that you don’t see what I see in you.”

“I don’t know how,” Soobin admitted, voice breaking. “I look at you and I see everything. And then I look at myself and I feel like a joke.”

He opened his mouth. Nothing came out.

“I thought we were building something,” she whispered. “And maybe that was stupid of me.”

“No—Y/N, please.” Soobin stepped forward, desperation blooming behind his eyes. “It wasn’t stupid, God, Y/N, it was never stupid. I was the stupid one.”

“I believed you when you said I mattered to you.”

“You do.”

“Then act like it,” she snapped.

Silence.

They stood there, surrounded by half-packed bags and fading sunlight and the weight of things said too late.

Soobin reached for her hand, but she pulled away—gently, like it hurt to do it. Like it hurt seeing him.

“I need some time,” she said. “I need to figure out what parts of this were real.”

Soobin stood there, heart splintering like glass underfoot.

“Y/N…”

She shook her head. “Don’t.”

And then she walked away.

No slammed doors. No dramatics.

Just the soft click of the front door and the quiet that followed.

Soobin didn’t move.

Didn’t breathe, he had no idea how to.

He stood there, surrounded by the pieces of something beautiful he didn’t know how to hold.

And for the first time all week, the house felt cold.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂

He hadn’t said goodbye.

There was no playlist that fit this feeling.

No song for you broke the best thing you ever had because you were too scared to believe it was yours.

His hoodie still smelled like her shampoo. His skin still burned with the ghost of her fingertips. His lips—his whole mouth—still remembered how she kissed when she trusted him.

And he’d ruined it.

It wasn’t her he didn’t trust. It was himself. But how could she know that now?

Soobin stared out the window like it could save him. The glass was cool against his temple. His reflection looked unfamiliar. Pale. Tired. Small.

How could he have looked at her—at someone who had chosen him again and again with such gentle certainty—and still believed it was temporary?

She had kissed him like it meant something.

She had held him like she wasn’t afraid.

And he had turned that into a reason to doubt her.

“I’m sorry,” he thought, again and again. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

But it was too late.

He should’ve told her the truth.

That he hadn’t been afraid because she made him feel small.

He was afraid because she made him feel seen.

And he didn’t know what to do with that kind of light.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂

The road blurred past her window like watercolors bleeding together—soft greens, greys, sky-blue sadness.

But Y/N didn’t hear any of it.

She heard Soobin.

“She probably does that with guys all the time.”

The words looped, cruel and sharp, like a record scratching against her ribs.

She’d never opened up like this before. Not with anyone. She’d let herself be soft with him, let him see the parts she kept buried under quick jokes and confident smiles. She’d let him in.

And he’d treated her feelings like they were a dream he would soon wake up from.

A summer fling.

A passing moment.

Not something true.

She squeezed her arms tighter around herself.

The part that hurt the most wasn’t the doubt—it was that she’d seen this exact fear in him. She knew he struggled. Knew he overthought. And she had chosen him anyway. Carefully. Deliberately.

And he hadn’t trusted her enough to believe in it.

And he hadn’t stopped her.

No calling her name. No chase. Not even a whisper of apology.

So she sat there, small and quiet, in the backseat of a car heading back to a world where she didn’t know what they were anymore.

Where maybe they had never been anything at all.

prev | masterlist | next

profiles: d&d saturday mass group | bling bling losers

author's note: hey..... hey.... how y'all doin?

i love you all and i'm sorry but it had to be done. soobin needs to learn how to trust himself. i felt so sad writing this bc tbh i had my doubts about this chapter, however, it needed to be done.

let me know what you all think!! thank you so much as always <3

#iyoonjhfeedbacks ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

155 notes · View notes

iyoonjh · 14 days ago

Text

of course you’re the fish person (but irl you’re my bird person)

thank you so much for your support as always, you’re my best friend in the whole world 🫶🫶

Beyond Plus Ultra! – The anatomy of falling in love

Chapter 20: Wait, Did I Just Trigger a Flag? (Oh No.)

wc: 3141 words

It felt like the whole week had passed in less than two days.

She’d had just as much fun as he did. They all had.

“I thought he was lying,” Jungwon whispered to Karina at one point.

“He’s not,” Karina replied, crossing her arms. “And I’m going to figure out how he does it.”

She followed Taehyun around like a shadow, demanding repeat performances of every trick and staring at his hands like a hawk. She had yet to catch the illusion. Her frustration only grew.

Now, the beach house was too quiet.

That cold, echoing kind of silence that only comes when something good is ending.

Which, of course, made it worse.

Soobin felt it. That weight in his stomach. The coil of unease tightening in his ribs.

He should’ve been happy. Floating. He should’ve been basking in whatever this was turning into.

But instead?

He was spiraling.

Because he didn’t know how to keep something like this. He didn’t even know how to trust that it was real. And the more perfect it felt, the more convinced he was that he’d imagined all of it.

That she would go home and return to her real life.

That she’d wake up and remember she was Y/N—the girl who lit up every room she walked into—and he was still Soobin.

Just Soobin.

He pressed his palms into the windowsill, heart in his throat.

“She kissed you,” he whispered to himself. “She chose you.”

But his brain was already firing back. Yeah, for now. But what happens when she remembers she could have anyone?

He squeezed his eyes shut.

Footsteps behind him.

“Soobin?”

Yeonjun.

He turned. “Hey.”

Yeonjun leaned against the wall. “You look like you’re five seconds from passing out.”

“I’m fine,” Soobin said too fast.

Yeonjun raised an eyebrow.

And then—like a dam breaking—Soobin exhaled.

“No, actually, I’m not fine,” he muttered, dragging a hand through his hair. “I feel like I’m about to mess everything up.”

Yeonjun straightened. “Talk to me.”

Soobin crossed his arms, eyes flicking back toward the window. “It’s Y/N. I—I don’t know what we are. Or what she wants. Or what I’m doing.”

“I thought things were good.”

“They are good,” Soobin said anxiously. “They’re too good. That’s the problem.”

Yeonjun tilted his head. “Walk me through that.”

“Why would she leave?”

Soobin swallowed. “Because I’m not enough for her.”

Behind them, a hallway creaked.

Neither noticed.

“Come on,” Yeonjun said.

Yeonjun opened his mouth, but Soobin was already on a roll.

“She’s gonna wake up one day and realize she could be with someone better. Someone who actually knows what they’re doing. Jake, probably. Or Jay. Or literally any other guy.”

His voice cracked, and he didn’t care.

“Those nights? That was probably just something in the air. The beach. The moon. Whatever. It didn’t mean anything. Not really. She was just being kind.”

From behind the corner of the hallway, Y/N went still.

She hadn’t meant to hear anything. She was just looking for her book—the one she left on the upstairs shelf. But now she stood there, completely frozen, her blood gone cold.

And her heart?

It cracked just a little, just enough to hollow her chest.

Inside the room, Soobin let out a shaky breath.

“I mean, yeah. She kissed me. She slept next to me. We, you know, did things. But she probably does that with guys all the time. That doesn’t mean she wants me. She’s way too good at this.”

Yeonjun flinched. “You don’t mean that.”

A silence fell.

Y/N backed away, quietly, like her shadow might give her away.

She didn’t hear what Yeonjun said next.

She didn’t care.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂

Leehan taped a note to the fridge that read WE LOVED YOU. NEVER CHANGE. PLEASE WATER THE SEAWEED SHRINE.

Even that earned only a few tired laughs.

Outside, the sun was blindingly bright—but no one rushed to step into it. They lingered. Drifted between rooms. Pretended to double-check bags they’d already zipped.

And beneath it all, a quiet tension hummed like static.

It was a hollow kind of quiet. The kind that builds in your chest and stretches, aching, while the world moves on like nothing happened.

He tried to tell himself it was fine. That she just needed space. That everything would be okay.

Then she walked into the room.

Her face was unreadable.

Soobin’s chest clenched.

She didn’t say anything at first. Just stood there, arms crossed, gaze sharp in that way that didn’t need volume to cut him open. She looked like a kicked puppy, but fierce at the same time.

And when she finally spoke—

“I heard everything.”

Soobin’s heart sank so fast it made him nauseous.

She took a careful step closer. “You really think that little of me?”

He blinked. “What? No, I—Y/N, that’s not—”

“You think I kissed you because it was the vibe?” Her voice cracked on the word. “Because I was caught up in the moonlight? Do you hear how that sounds?”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he said quickly. “I was spiraling—”

Soobin flinched.

“I do,” he whispered, throat tight. “God, I do.”

“Then why would you say those things?” she asked, voice shaking now, a pool of tears forming in her eyes. “Why would you throw my feelings away like that behind a closed door?”

“I didn’t mean to,” he said. “I was scared. I’ve never had anything like this. I didn’t think I deserved it.”

She blinked hard, once. Twice. “It hurts that you don’t see what I see in you.”

“I don’t know how,” Soobin admitted, voice breaking. “I look at you and I see everything. And then I look at myself and I feel like a joke.”

He opened his mouth. Nothing came out.

“I thought we were building something,” she whispered. “And maybe that was stupid of me.”

“No—Y/N, please.” Soobin stepped forward, desperation blooming behind his eyes. “It wasn’t stupid, God, Y/N, it was never stupid. I was the stupid one.”

“I believed you when you said I mattered to you.”

“You do.”

“Then act like it,” she snapped.

Silence.

They stood there, surrounded by half-packed bags and fading sunlight and the weight of things said too late.

Soobin reached for her hand, but she pulled away—gently, like it hurt to do it. Like it hurt seeing him.

“I need some time,” she said. “I need to figure out what parts of this were real.”

Soobin stood there, heart splintering like glass underfoot.

“Y/N…”

She shook her head. “Don’t.”

And then she walked away.

No slammed doors. No dramatics.

Just the soft click of the front door and the quiet that followed.

Soobin didn’t move.

Didn’t breathe, he had no idea how to.

He stood there, surrounded by the pieces of something beautiful he didn’t know how to hold.

And for the first time all week, the house felt cold.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂

He hadn’t said goodbye.

There was no playlist that fit this feeling.

No song for you broke the best thing you ever had because you were too scared to believe it was yours.

His hoodie still smelled like her shampoo. His skin still burned with the ghost of her fingertips. His lips—his whole mouth—still remembered how she kissed when she trusted him.

And he’d ruined it.

It wasn’t her he didn’t trust. It was himself. But how could she know that now?

Soobin stared out the window like it could save him. The glass was cool against his temple. His reflection looked unfamiliar. Pale. Tired. Small.

How could he have looked at her—at someone who had chosen him again and again with such gentle certainty—and still believed it was temporary?

She had kissed him like it meant something.

She had held him like she wasn’t afraid.

And he had turned that into a reason to doubt her.

“I’m sorry,” he thought, again and again. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

But it was too late.

He should’ve told her the truth.

That he hadn’t been afraid because she made him feel small.

He was afraid because she made him feel seen.

And he didn’t know what to do with that kind of light.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂

The road blurred past her window like watercolors bleeding together—soft greens, greys, sky-blue sadness.

But Y/N didn’t hear any of it.

She heard Soobin.

“She probably does that with guys all the time.”

The words looped, cruel and sharp, like a record scratching against her ribs.

She’d never opened up like this before. Not with anyone. She’d let herself be soft with him, let him see the parts she kept buried under quick jokes and confident smiles. She’d let him in.

And he’d treated her feelings like they were a dream he would soon wake up from.

A summer fling.

A passing moment.

Not something true.

She squeezed her arms tighter around herself.

The part that hurt the most wasn’t the doubt—it was that she’d seen this exact fear in him. She knew he struggled. Knew he overthought. And she had chosen him anyway. Carefully. Deliberately.

And he hadn’t trusted her enough to believe in it.

And he hadn’t stopped her.

No calling her name. No chase. Not even a whisper of apology.

So she sat there, small and quiet, in the backseat of a car heading back to a world where she didn’t know what they were anymore.

Where maybe they had never been anything at all.

prev | masterlist | next

profiles: d&d saturday mass group | bling bling losers

author's note: hey..... hey.... how y'all doin?

i love you all and i'm sorry but it had to be done. soobin needs to learn how to trust himself. i felt so sad writing this bc tbh i had my doubts about this chapter, however, it needed to be done.

let me know what you all think!! thank you so much as always <3

#iyoonjhfeedbacks ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

155 notes · View notes

iyoonjh · 14 days ago

Text

i’ so sorry 😭😭😭

i promise this is the only chapter you will be crying sad tears!! they will be happy i promise hehe

Beyond Plus Ultra! – The anatomy of falling in love

Chapter 20: Wait, Did I Just Trigger a Flag? (Oh No.)

wc: 3141 words

It felt like the whole week had passed in less than two days.

She’d had just as much fun as he did. They all had.

“I thought he was lying,” Jungwon whispered to Karina at one point.

“He’s not,” Karina replied, crossing her arms. “And I’m going to figure out how he does it.”

She followed Taehyun around like a shadow, demanding repeat performances of every trick and staring at his hands like a hawk. She had yet to catch the illusion. Her frustration only grew.

Now, the beach house was too quiet.

That cold, echoing kind of silence that only comes when something good is ending.

Which, of course, made it worse.

Soobin felt it. That weight in his stomach. The coil of unease tightening in his ribs.

He should’ve been happy. Floating. He should’ve been basking in whatever this was turning into.

But instead?

He was spiraling.

Because he didn’t know how to keep something like this. He didn’t even know how to trust that it was real. And the more perfect it felt, the more convinced he was that he’d imagined all of it.

That she would go home and return to her real life.

That she’d wake up and remember she was Y/N—the girl who lit up every room she walked into—and he was still Soobin.

Just Soobin.

He pressed his palms into the windowsill, heart in his throat.

“She kissed you,” he whispered to himself. “She chose you.”

But his brain was already firing back. Yeah, for now. But what happens when she remembers she could have anyone?

He squeezed his eyes shut.

Footsteps behind him.

“Soobin?”

Yeonjun.

He turned. “Hey.”

Yeonjun leaned against the wall. “You look like you’re five seconds from passing out.”

“I’m fine,” Soobin said too fast.

Yeonjun raised an eyebrow.

And then—like a dam breaking—Soobin exhaled.

“No, actually, I’m not fine,” he muttered, dragging a hand through his hair. “I feel like I’m about to mess everything up.”

Yeonjun straightened. “Talk to me.”

Soobin crossed his arms, eyes flicking back toward the window. “It’s Y/N. I—I don’t know what we are. Or what she wants. Or what I’m doing.”

“I thought things were good.”

“They are good,” Soobin said anxiously. “They’re too good. That’s the problem.”

Yeonjun tilted his head. “Walk me through that.”

“Why would she leave?”

Soobin swallowed. “Because I’m not enough for her.”

Behind them, a hallway creaked.

Neither noticed.

“Come on,” Yeonjun said.

Yeonjun opened his mouth, but Soobin was already on a roll.

“She’s gonna wake up one day and realize she could be with someone better. Someone who actually knows what they’re doing. Jake, probably. Or Jay. Or literally any other guy.”

His voice cracked, and he didn’t care.

“Those nights? That was probably just something in the air. The beach. The moon. Whatever. It didn’t mean anything. Not really. She was just being kind.”

From behind the corner of the hallway, Y/N went still.

She hadn’t meant to hear anything. She was just looking for her book—the one she left on the upstairs shelf. But now she stood there, completely frozen, her blood gone cold.

And her heart?

It cracked just a little, just enough to hollow her chest.

Inside the room, Soobin let out a shaky breath.

“I mean, yeah. She kissed me. She slept next to me. We, you know, did things. But she probably does that with guys all the time. That doesn’t mean she wants me. She’s way too good at this.”

Yeonjun flinched. “You don’t mean that.”

A silence fell.

Y/N backed away, quietly, like her shadow might give her away.

She didn’t hear what Yeonjun said next.

She didn’t care.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂

Leehan taped a note to the fridge that read WE LOVED YOU. NEVER CHANGE. PLEASE WATER THE SEAWEED SHRINE.

Even that earned only a few tired laughs.

Outside, the sun was blindingly bright—but no one rushed to step into it. They lingered. Drifted between rooms. Pretended to double-check bags they’d already zipped.

And beneath it all, a quiet tension hummed like static.

It was a hollow kind of quiet. The kind that builds in your chest and stretches, aching, while the world moves on like nothing happened.

He tried to tell himself it was fine. That she just needed space. That everything would be okay.

Then she walked into the room.

Her face was unreadable.

Soobin’s chest clenched.

She didn’t say anything at first. Just stood there, arms crossed, gaze sharp in that way that didn’t need volume to cut him open. She looked like a kicked puppy, but fierce at the same time.

And when she finally spoke—

“I heard everything.”

Soobin’s heart sank so fast it made him nauseous.

She took a careful step closer. “You really think that little of me?”

He blinked. “What? No, I—Y/N, that’s not—”

“You think I kissed you because it was the vibe?” Her voice cracked on the word. “Because I was caught up in the moonlight? Do you hear how that sounds?”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he said quickly. “I was spiraling—”

Soobin flinched.

“I do,” he whispered, throat tight. “God, I do.”

“Then why would you say those things?” she asked, voice shaking now, a pool of tears forming in her eyes. “Why would you throw my feelings away like that behind a closed door?”

“I didn’t mean to,” he said. “I was scared. I’ve never had anything like this. I didn’t think I deserved it.”

She blinked hard, once. Twice. “It hurts that you don’t see what I see in you.”

“I don’t know how,” Soobin admitted, voice breaking. “I look at you and I see everything. And then I look at myself and I feel like a joke.”

He opened his mouth. Nothing came out.

“I thought we were building something,” she whispered. “And maybe that was stupid of me.”

“No—Y/N, please.” Soobin stepped forward, desperation blooming behind his eyes. “It wasn’t stupid, God, Y/N, it was never stupid. I was the stupid one.”

“I believed you when you said I mattered to you.”

“You do.”

“Then act like it,” she snapped.

Silence.

They stood there, surrounded by half-packed bags and fading sunlight and the weight of things said too late.

Soobin reached for her hand, but she pulled away—gently, like it hurt to do it. Like it hurt seeing him.

“I need some time,” she said. “I need to figure out what parts of this were real.”

Soobin stood there, heart splintering like glass underfoot.

“Y/N…”

She shook her head. “Don’t.”

And then she walked away.

No slammed doors. No dramatics.

Just the soft click of the front door and the quiet that followed.

Soobin didn’t move.

Didn’t breathe, he had no idea how to.

He stood there, surrounded by the pieces of something beautiful he didn’t know how to hold.

And for the first time all week, the house felt cold.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂

He hadn’t said goodbye.

There was no playlist that fit this feeling.

No song for you broke the best thing you ever had because you were too scared to believe it was yours.

His hoodie still smelled like her shampoo. His skin still burned with the ghost of her fingertips. His lips—his whole mouth—still remembered how she kissed when she trusted him.

And he’d ruined it.

It wasn’t her he didn’t trust. It was himself. But how could she know that now?

Soobin stared out the window like it could save him. The glass was cool against his temple. His reflection looked unfamiliar. Pale. Tired. Small.

How could he have looked at her—at someone who had chosen him again and again with such gentle certainty—and still believed it was temporary?

She had kissed him like it meant something.

She had held him like she wasn’t afraid.

And he had turned that into a reason to doubt her.

“I’m sorry,” he thought, again and again. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

But it was too late.

He should’ve told her the truth.

That he hadn’t been afraid because she made him feel small.

He was afraid because she made him feel seen.

And he didn’t know what to do with that kind of light.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂

The road blurred past her window like watercolors bleeding together—soft greens, greys, sky-blue sadness.

But Y/N didn’t hear any of it.

She heard Soobin.

“She probably does that with guys all the time.”

The words looped, cruel and sharp, like a record scratching against her ribs.

She’d never opened up like this before. Not with anyone. She’d let herself be soft with him, let him see the parts she kept buried under quick jokes and confident smiles. She’d let him in.

And he’d treated her feelings like they were a dream he would soon wake up from.

A summer fling.

A passing moment.

Not something true.

She squeezed her arms tighter around herself.

The part that hurt the most wasn’t the doubt—it was that she’d seen this exact fear in him. She knew he struggled. Knew he overthought. And she had chosen him anyway. Carefully. Deliberately.

And he hadn’t trusted her enough to believe in it.

And he hadn’t stopped her.

No calling her name. No chase. Not even a whisper of apology.

So she sat there, small and quiet, in the backseat of a car heading back to a world where she didn’t know what they were anymore.

Where maybe they had never been anything at all.

prev | masterlist | next

profiles: d&d saturday mass group | bling bling losers

author's note: hey..... hey.... how y'all doin?

i love you all and i'm sorry but it had to be done. soobin needs to learn how to trust himself. i felt so sad writing this bc tbh i had my doubts about this chapter, however, it needed to be done.

let me know what you all think!! thank you so much as always <3

155 notes · View notes

iyoonjh · 15 days ago

Text

Beyond Plus Ultra! – The anatomy of falling in love

Chapter 20: Wait, Did I Just Trigger a Flag? (Oh No.)

wc: 3141 words

It felt like the whole week had passed in less than two days.

She’d had just as much fun as he did. They all had.

“I thought he was lying,” Jungwon whispered to Karina at one point.

“He’s not,” Karina replied, crossing her arms. “And I’m going to figure out how he does it.”

She followed Taehyun around like a shadow, demanding repeat performances of every trick and staring at his hands like a hawk. She had yet to catch the illusion. Her frustration only grew.

Now, the beach house was too quiet.

That cold, echoing kind of silence that only comes when something good is ending.

Which, of course, made it worse.

Soobin felt it. That weight in his stomach. The coil of unease tightening in his ribs.

He should’ve been happy. Floating. He should’ve been basking in whatever this was turning into.

But instead?

He was spiraling.

Because he didn’t know how to keep something like this. He didn’t even know how to trust that it was real. And the more perfect it felt, the more convinced he was that he’d imagined all of it.

That she would go home and return to her real life.

That she’d wake up and remember she was Y/N—the girl who lit up every room she walked into—and he was still Soobin.

Just Soobin.

He pressed his palms into the windowsill, heart in his throat.

“She kissed you,” he whispered to himself. “She chose you.”

But his brain was already firing back. Yeah, for now. But what happens when she remembers she could have anyone?

He squeezed his eyes shut.

Footsteps behind him.

“Soobin?”

Yeonjun.

He turned. “Hey.”

Yeonjun leaned against the wall. “You look like you’re five seconds from passing out.”

“I’m fine,” Soobin said too fast.

Yeonjun raised an eyebrow.

And then—like a dam breaking—Soobin exhaled.

“No, actually, I’m not fine,” he muttered, dragging a hand through his hair. “I feel like I’m about to mess everything up.”

Yeonjun straightened. “Talk to me.”

Soobin crossed his arms, eyes flicking back toward the window. “It’s Y/N. I—I don’t know what we are. Or what she wants. Or what I’m doing.”

“I thought things were good.”

“They are good,” Soobin said anxiously. “They’re too good. That’s the problem.”

Yeonjun tilted his head. “Walk me through that.”

“Why would she leave?”

Soobin swallowed. “Because I’m not enough for her.”

Behind them, a hallway creaked.

Neither noticed.

“Come on,” Yeonjun said.

Yeonjun opened his mouth, but Soobin was already on a roll.

“She’s gonna wake up one day and realize she could be with someone better. Someone who actually knows what they’re doing. Jake, probably. Or Jay. Or literally any other guy.”

His voice cracked, and he didn’t care.

“Those nights? That was probably just something in the air. The beach. The moon. Whatever. It didn’t mean anything. Not really. She was just being kind.”

From behind the corner of the hallway, Y/N went still.

She hadn’t meant to hear anything. She was just looking for her book—the one she left on the upstairs shelf. But now she stood there, completely frozen, her blood gone cold.

And her heart?

It cracked just a little, just enough to hollow her chest.

Inside the room, Soobin let out a shaky breath.

“I mean, yeah. She kissed me. She slept next to me. We, you know, did things. But she probably does that with guys all the time. That doesn’t mean she wants me. She’s way too good at this.”

Yeonjun flinched. “You don’t mean that.”

A silence fell.

Y/N backed away, quietly, like her shadow might give her away.

She didn’t hear what Yeonjun said next.

She didn’t care.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂

Leehan taped a note to the fridge that read WE LOVED YOU. NEVER CHANGE. PLEASE WATER THE SEAWEED SHRINE.

Even that earned only a few tired laughs.

Outside, the sun was blindingly bright—but no one rushed to step into it. They lingered. Drifted between rooms. Pretended to double-check bags they’d already zipped.

And beneath it all, a quiet tension hummed like static.

It was a hollow kind of quiet. The kind that builds in your chest and stretches, aching, while the world moves on like nothing happened.

He tried to tell himself it was fine. That she just needed space. That everything would be okay.

Then she walked into the room.

Her face was unreadable.

Soobin’s chest clenched.

She didn’t say anything at first. Just stood there, arms crossed, gaze sharp in that way that didn’t need volume to cut him open. She looked like a kicked puppy, but fierce at the same time.

And when she finally spoke—

“I heard everything.”

Soobin’s heart sank so fast it made him nauseous.

She took a careful step closer. “You really think that little of me?”

He blinked. “What? No, I—Y/N, that’s not—”

“You think I kissed you because it was the vibe?” Her voice cracked on the word. “Because I was caught up in the moonlight? Do you hear how that sounds?”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he said quickly. “I was spiraling—”

Soobin flinched.

“I do,” he whispered, throat tight. “God, I do.”

“Then why would you say those things?” she asked, voice shaking now, a pool of tears forming in her eyes. “Why would you throw my feelings away like that behind a closed door?”

“I didn’t mean to,” he said. “I was scared. I’ve never had anything like this. I didn’t think I deserved it.”

She blinked hard, once. Twice. “It hurts that you don’t see what I see in you.”

“I don’t know how,” Soobin admitted, voice breaking. “I look at you and I see everything. And then I look at myself and I feel like a joke.”

He opened his mouth. Nothing came out.

“I thought we were building something,” she whispered. “And maybe that was stupid of me.”

“No—Y/N, please.” Soobin stepped forward, desperation blooming behind his eyes. “It wasn’t stupid, God, Y/N, it was never stupid. I was the stupid one.”

“I believed you when you said I mattered to you.”

“You do.”

“Then act like it,” she snapped.

Silence.

They stood there, surrounded by half-packed bags and fading sunlight and the weight of things said too late.

Soobin reached for her hand, but she pulled away—gently, like it hurt to do it. Like it hurt seeing him.

“I need some time,” she said. “I need to figure out what parts of this were real.”

Soobin stood there, heart splintering like glass underfoot.

“Y/N…”

She shook her head. “Don’t.”

And then she walked away.

No slammed doors. No dramatics.

Just the soft click of the front door and the quiet that followed.

Soobin didn’t move.

Didn’t breathe, he had no idea how to.

He stood there, surrounded by the pieces of something beautiful he didn’t know how to hold.

And for the first time all week, the house felt cold.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂

He hadn’t said goodbye.

There was no playlist that fit this feeling.

No song for you broke the best thing you ever had because you were too scared to believe it was yours.

His hoodie still smelled like her shampoo. His skin still burned with the ghost of her fingertips. His lips—his whole mouth—still remembered how she kissed when she trusted him.

And he’d ruined it.

It wasn’t her he didn’t trust. It was himself. But how could she know that now?

Soobin stared out the window like it could save him. The glass was cool against his temple. His reflection looked unfamiliar. Pale. Tired. Small.

How could he have looked at her—at someone who had chosen him again and again with such gentle certainty—and still believed it was temporary?

She had kissed him like it meant something.

She had held him like she wasn’t afraid.

And he had turned that into a reason to doubt her.

“I’m sorry,” he thought, again and again. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

But it was too late.

He should’ve told her the truth.

That he hadn’t been afraid because she made him feel small.

He was afraid because she made him feel seen.

And he didn’t know what to do with that kind of light.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂

The road blurred past her window like watercolors bleeding together—soft greens, greys, sky-blue sadness.

But Y/N didn’t hear any of it.

She heard Soobin.

“She probably does that with guys all the time.”

The words looped, cruel and sharp, like a record scratching against her ribs.

She’d never opened up like this before. Not with anyone. She’d let herself be soft with him, let him see the parts she kept buried under quick jokes and confident smiles. She’d let him in.

And he’d treated her feelings like they were a dream he would soon wake up from.

A summer fling.

A passing moment.

Not something true.

She squeezed her arms tighter around herself.

The part that hurt the most wasn’t the doubt—it was that she’d seen this exact fear in him. She knew he struggled. Knew he overthought. And she had chosen him anyway. Carefully. Deliberately.

And he hadn’t trusted her enough to believe in it.

And he hadn’t stopped her.

No calling her name. No chase. Not even a whisper of apology.

So she sat there, small and quiet, in the backseat of a car heading back to a world where she didn’t know what they were anymore.

Where maybe they had never been anything at all.

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author's note: hey..... hey.... how y'all doin?

i love you all and i'm sorry but it had to be done. soobin needs to learn how to trust himself. i felt so sad writing this bc tbh i had my doubts about this chapter, however, it needed to be done.

let me know what you all think!! thank you so much as always <3

#txt au #txt #txt fluff #txt x reader #soobin #choi soobin #txt x female reader #txt smau #soobin smau #soobin x reader #soobin x you #txt fake texts #txt imagines #soobin imagines

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