izzyy-recs - Tumblr blog

izzyy-recs · 2 days ago

Text

I wrote a long reblog and gave my thoughts on certain parts but it got deleted...

So now I'm just here trying to get my thoughts through again. </3

I've been so excited to finally read a fic of Adeline's and ughhh I'm finally here. I absolutely love her and really appreciate the love she shows all authors so I thought she deserves the same, which is why I hate that my reblog got deleted even more.

But if I take it overall: I think the story was really cute. I loved Yeonjun, his character and devotion for reader. The same with beomgyu. I love when there is a best friend so nice and caring, it warms my heart.

"maybe," Yeonjun replied, pulling you closer as the air grew serious. "Just like Perseus fought for Andromeda, I'll fight for you. In every lifetime, I'll slay your metaphorical sea monster, once it means I get to have you." THIS IS THE ONE PART I REMEMBER HIGHLIGHTING AND WANTING TO REACT TO AND UGHH HWBSHSISNSJDGK HE'S SO FUCKING ADORABLE IMMA KISS HIM

Adeline, thank you for writing this. I always appreciated you as a reader, and now I appreciate you as a writer as well. I hope you have lots of fun on your writing journey and I can't wait to read more <3

When The Night Comes || Choi Yeonjun

➛Pairing // Choi Yeonjun x fem! reader

➛Word Count // 18.8k

➛Genre // university au, fluff, angst, slice of life, strangers to friends to friends with benefits to lovers.

➛Warnings // // substance use [cigarettes and weed], mental health issues [not directly stated], past trauma, suggestive language, mentions of past abuse, reader has multiple nicknames [petal, blossom], general pet names [sweetheart, gorgeous, etc]

➛Synopsis // And I hope when the night comes, we stay in limbo together, savouring this moment—ignoring the way I can no longer hold you the same under the morning gaze.

In which Choi Yeonjun finds himself entangled with you. Yearning for a deeper connection, Yeonjun has to navigate his feelings while sharing unforgettable moments with you.

He must confront the question: does love really conquer all or will the shadows of your past prevent him from achieving the happy ending he so desperately seeks?

➛Playlist

adeline's opening ✉ - my first fic ahh >< genuinely can't believe I was able to write something like this. I'd love to thank 3 individuals actually!! @dawngyu for being such a sweetheart to me and was so supportive during the entire process, @yunverie for having the sweetest reactions to the early snippets I gave her and to my wife @just-nc-tea who read it even when it wasn't completed yet :). I love you all so much, thank you <3

I || Whispers of Spring ٠ ࣪⭑ˎˊ˗

The emergence of Spring reminded Yeonjun of you. After Winter made her exit, Spring began to reveal herself—welcoming the warmth of the sun and the vibrant blooms that burst forth in preparation for her lively sister, Summer. To most, Spring signified renewal and the blossoming of new beginnings—yet to Yeonjun, Spring evoked memories of your first interaction. Like the season you possessed a cool demeanour, yet a touch of warmth remained hidden deep within you, waiting to be revealed. To Yeonjun, Spring marked the beginning of his entanglement with you.

Seeing you for the first time felt like a breath of fresh air. It was the first year of college and you were sitting on a bench near the quadrangle nursing a cigarette while you listened to Beomgyu, someone he got acquainted with in one of his earlier classes. Your presence was undeniable—despite your intimidating aura, Yeonjun thought you were gorgeous. The way the sunlight caught your eyes, the slight curve of your lips when Beomgyu said something funny, captivated him—your entire being captivated him, like a magnetic pull, drawing Yeonjun in. He couldn't deny his immediate attraction to you.

Over the years, Yeonjun’s attraction to you blossomed more than he would’ve imagined. Naturally, he and Beomgyu became friends through their shared classes; every mention of you from Beomgyu made his heart leap for joy, his interest in you seemed to deepen with every blurb of information he was told about you. Despite his extroverted nature, Yeonjun always shied away at the idea of talking to you. In a world where everyone wanted to be the Sun, to him, you were the Moon—unreachable, only to be admired from afar.

Your first interaction with Yeonjun remained etched into his being. Amidst the chaos of the party, there you were, clinging to the corner, as if the walls themselves whispered secrets to you. It was the final party of Sophomore year, and despite the drink in your hand, you seemed more sober than tipsy. Even though you appeared nervous, you seemed to maintain a steady conversation with Beomgyu, smiling at his antics.

While all eyes were on him, Yeonjun couldn't help but focus on you. In that moment, the lights reflected on your skin, causing you to illuminate a soft glow almost as if you were the Moon—so close, yet unattainable. Your unapproachable aura always left Yeonjun yearning for more—wanting to explore your secrets, unravel your complexities, yet treat your body as a sacred temple, whispering silent prayers hoping that you might grant him a taste of the salvation you had to offer.

Despite the season, the moment the cold air enveloped you as you stepped onto the balcony, it felt as if Death itself embraced you—a biting cold that seeped into your bones. A cigarette found solace between your lips, dulling Death’s grip on you, allowing you a moment of respite. The first drag was bittersweet—despite the warmth it brought to you, you couldn't help but be reminded of why you hoped to quit in the first place.

The second drag felt tantalizing—tormenting you on the goals you're unable to achieve, reminding you that quitting meant letting go of the only thing that connected you to your past—like a noose around your neck, unable to be free of the comfort the addiction brings you. The third drag was interrupted—Yeonjun, the party’s main guest, enters, glowing, as if he were the Sun itself and you, Icarus, destined to fly too close and be burned.

You’ve seen him around campus before—always surrounded by some form of company, as if he were a flame that drew people in like moths. Known for his charisma and talent, Yeonjun was never a bore—from what Beomgyu told you, he was also a giant sweetheart despite what people may think. In contrast, you found solitude in flowers, the silent messages they conveyed, and the untold stories weaved between their leaves. With each bloom, a message waiting to be relayed.

With a final drag, you crushed the remnants of your cigarette as you turned to face Yeonjun as he approached—his raven-coloured hair cascading along his neck, eyes filled with something akin to wonder, “Is the party too much for you?” he asked.

As you wrapped your arms around yourself, you responded, “Beomgyu drained all the energy out of me.” You paused, glancing away, “I needed to sober up before I decided to leave.”

“But it’s only 12 am! The party has barely started, Pretty,” Yeonjun pouted, his expression playful.

“Unlike you, I have the social battery of a Plum Blossom. Alcohol can only help me so much,” you replied, ignoring the way the nickname made you uneasy.

“A Plum Blossom?” he asked, surprised.

As heat rushed to your cheeks, you clarified, “The flower. They symbolize loneliness, so to an extent, I like being alone.”

Smirking, Yeonjun leaned in slightly, “Then what flower am I?”

“A sunflower,” you said softly as your gaze fell to the ground, “you’re bright, warm and approachable with loads of energy.” As you turned to leave, you felt embarrassed having shared so much about flowers. Despite this, you looked back to give Yeonjun a non-verbal goodbye, only to find him placing his jacket around your shoulders.

Instantly, his scent surrounds you—grapefruit with undertones of incense and jasmine—pleasant, but not overwhelming. The jacket was a touch too big but like his personality, it immediately warmed you—almost as if it were a talisman, warding off Death’s embrace.

Confusion etched across your features as he smiled sweetly, “An excuse for me to see you again. You’re friends with Gyu, right? So, we’re bound to see each other on campus. I hope to see you soon Blossom,” he added before making his way back on the dance floor as if the entire interaction had been a casual exchange.

Embarrassingly, you've avoided seeing Yeonjun for a month. Despite your desire to return his jacket, you've steered clear of places you knew he frequented, only staying within the confines of your safe space—the University's greenhouse. Beomgyu teased you about it, relishing the idea of his two friends interacting—you however dreaded the thought of seeing him again.

It's not that your first interaction with him was terrible: it's just that to you, Yeonjun was the Sun—ethereal and radiant while someone like you, was too broken to be seen with someone like him.

“You know you can't avoid him forever, right?” Beomgyu started one day, leaning against the table as you watered the orchids. “He asked me for you, asking if I'm coming to see you in your little hideout,” he teased.

“It's not a hideout,” you mumbled, focusing on the delicate flowers, “It's just that, he shines so brightly, I don't think I deserve to be in the same space as him, Cookie. He shouldn't waste his time on someone like me.”

Beomgyu sighed, his expression softening, “You're more than worth it, Petal. Don't let your past define you, you're more than that. You shine just as brightly; anyone would be lucky to get to know you.”

You placed the watering can down as tears welled in your eyes. You've known Beomgyu since you both were in elementary school—he's been with you at your worst, from the loss of your brother when you were fifteen to your parents abandoning you at sixteen, leaving you to navigate in a world that moved on too quickly, denying you a chance to grieve. He's witnessed the aftermath of your last relationship, the way that even in his death, your ex haunted you, leaving you shattered.

Giving you a side hug, Beomgyu continued, “I know it's hard, but give him a chance. Yeonjun’s a nice guy. Even if it takes time for you to get close as friends, he'll understand.”

You had really hoped that could be true, but the fear and anxiety wrapped around you, made you hesitate. Deep down, you really wanted to believe things could turn out differently.

Your second interaction made Yeonjun feel alive; nostalgic even—you're with a cigarette again as you sat with Beomgyu, talking. Despite not having seen you in months, Yeonjun couldn't help but think you're even more gorgeous than when he first met you—his feelings resurfacing almost as if it had never truly left. You were glowing—you seem more animated that day; happy in the bubble you're currently in, laughing at the antics Beomgyu is doing—your rosy cheeks contrasting the chilly weather.

With a newfound sense of confidence, Yeonjun decided to approach you both—hoping his presence doesn’t cause this side of your personality to be stored away again.

“Gyu, hey!” Yeonjun said as he made his way over with his gaze fixed on you. He noticed the surprise in your eyes at his presence and he finds it adorable—the way your smile softened, and your nose scrunched at his arrival made him feel as if he were in heaven.

“Hey man,” Beomgyu said as he greeted him with a high-five. “You’ve never met Petal, right? She’s like a sister to me, so this is me formally introducing you.” He smiled as he ruffled your hair.

“Nice to meet you Petal," Yeonjun smirked slightly, “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

With furrowed brows, you gently pushed Beomgyu as you quietly told Yeonjun your name with a shy smile.

After a brief moment of silence, Beomgyu suddenly jumped up, “I just remembered I had to print an assignment for my next class,” Giving your arm a squeeze, he continued, “Later guys! I'll see you for lunch, Petal!” as he ran off towards the library.

As you both waved goodbye to Beomgyu, Yeonjun took a seat next to you, his eyes sparkled with anticipation as you handed him a gift bag.

“Your hoodie,” you stated, “and a pressed sunflower, as an apology for taking so long to get it back to you.”

“You didn't have to get me an apology, Blossom,” Yeonjun replied as he took out the pressed sunflower, admiring it—it's beautiful, he thinks. The pressed sunflowers are carefully confined within a picture frame ensuring its beauty is preserved—recalling your first encounter he thinks it's endearing that you gave him one.

“You did this yourself?” he asked, genuinely impressed.

As you nodded in response, Yeonjun noticed you watching him as he continued to admire your work, sensing the care you put into it.

To others, this may seem like a superficial interaction between two people—but to Yeonjun, this was the beginning of something more. Like a budding flower, this relationship had potential to blossom into something truly beautiful and fulfilling.

Over the next few months, your interactions with Yeonjun became more frequent. He began having lunch with you and Beomgyu more often, even visiting the greenhouse whether Beomgyu was there or not. At first, you were hesitant to open up, your budding relationship destined to remain stunted—with a lack of food it seemed inevitable to fall apart, but Yeonjun's warm smile and genuine interest in your life slowly chipped away at your defences.

At first, it started small—Yeonjun began to join you and Beomgyu in the cafeteria for lunch, a simple action that spoke volumes to you.

“What's your favourite book?” he asked one day. Evident hesitation on your features left you unsure of how to respond, but Beomgyu chimed in, “Oh, Petal absolutely loves mythology and folklore! Especially stories deeply rooted in romance and symbolism.” As Beomgyu ruffled your hair teasingly, Yeonjun looked at you, his eyes lighting up, “Be sure to tell me about them next time, yeah? Especially your favourite.” With a shy smile and heat rising to your cheeks you nodded as the remainder of lunch fell into a quiet, casual conversation between you three.

In the following weeks, Yeonjun’s visits to the greenhouse became a daily occurrence, often bringing you a coffee or a sweet snack you liked. Some days were quiet, others were filled with sweet conversation between you two—you, explaining the nuances of flower language while he listened intently, admiring the way you carefully tended to each flower.

“I brought these for you today,” Yeonjun said as his eyes sparkled while he entered, handing you a small bouquet of beautifully arranged red chrysanthemums and white roses with a tiny bag of freshly baked cookies. “I'm sure you'll understand the message I'm trying to convey.” Your blush deepened as Yeonjun smiled softly at you, “And the cookies were something Soobin and I made earlier. Wanted to give you some. The cookies taste good though! Even though Soobin helped, I made sure everything was edible in the end,” he smiled cutely as he sat next to you on the bench. You felt a flutter in your chest as you accepted the gift, feeling a sense of gratitude towards him.

The times when the greenhouse was filled with you, Beomgyu and Yeonjun, it became livelier—the flowers embracing the energy that surrounded them. Beomgyu watched from the sidelines as the conversation naturally got quieter, he smiled at the way Yeonjun looked at you, with a look of adoration, unmatched. “I'm glad the two of you are getting along,” he commented, his voice filled with warmth. “It's nice to see my two best friends get along.”

In the confines of the greenhouse—amongst the laughter and quieter moments, it became a safe house—a sanctuary where your blossoming friendship with Yeonjun was nurtured into a young seedling full of life and vigour. The way Yeonjun listened, really listened, made you feel valued—it felt nice to be heard, to be seen, to feel as if you were human like everyone else even if your past tried to tell you otherwise.

And with Spring coming to an end, the vibrant colours surrounding you mirrored the warmth of your connection; as the last petals of the season began to fall, you both stood on the precipice of something beautiful—ready to embrace the Summer of your hearts with open arms.

II || A Glimpse of Heaven ٠ ࣪⭑ˎˊ˗

The next time Yeonjun saw you, you were at a party again but this time it's the beginning of Autumn—unlike your first meeting.

After the sweltering heat of Summer, Autumn's crisp air made him feel alive—her leaves, painted in hues of auburn and crimson, dancing gently in the breeze, creating a nostalgic atmosphere that somewhat felt romantic, contrasting the solemnity of Winter that steadily approached.

This time, he saw you on the dance floor, which was surprising considering your withdrawn personality—your body language was comfortable, with relaxed shoulders, you swayed with Beomgyu to the music, surrounded by other attendants of the party. Yeonjun was mesmerized. The way you handled yourself even in this moment felt addicting to him—he couldn’t resist staring at you as you sipped on your drink, giggling at something Beomgyu whispered to you over the music before you made direct eye contact with him.

He couldn't help but feel shy as he felt the way heat rushed to his cheeks, still, he waved at you from across the room. In response, your eyes shone with excitement which Yeonjun assumed was due to the alcohol, but he felt giddy at the idea of you being happy to see him.

Despite the moments you shared over the last few months, Yeonjun still wasn't sure on where the relationship was headed. Still staring, Yeonjun saw you whisper something to Beomgyu as you stepped outside, onto the same balcony where you first talked last Spring—and Yeonjun, he couldn't stop himself from following.

As you placed your joint between your lips, you fished for your lighter in your purse—you don’t smoke weed often, the relaxed feeling you got, usually became too much for you—but in this moment is felt like a reward for overcoming Summer and enjoying yourself even if the anxiety remained in the back of your mind.

Annoyed, you realized you left your lighter home, causing you to cut your celebration short—or so you thought, like last Spring, Yeonjun met you on the balcony again. He had a glow to him, a little different than usual—maybe it's the alcohol, maybe it's something else, but whatever it is that made him look like he had the Moon, made him look even more beautiful to you.

“Do you have a light?” You asked. “It seems like I forgot my lighter home and I wanted to celebrate,” you stated, the pout evident in your voice as you gestured to your joint.

Leaning in, you allowed Yeonjun to light the joint—the proximity between you two allowed you to get a whiff of his cologne, this time it's stronger, instead of the jasmine and incense undertones, it's woodier with undertones of sage and pomegranate—its addicting you think, it made Yeonjun even more captivating to you, spellbinding almost. It made you want to ravish him in ways that you rather not explain—despite forming something akin to a friendship, the little moments you shared made you hope for something more. As the THC began to enter your bloodstream, you passed the joint to Yeonjun as smoke filled the air.

“What’s the cause for celebration, Pretty?” Yeonjun asked as he took up the offer on the joint, allowing its warmth to surround him.

“Just cause,” you stated, as you giggle, the alcohol and weed beginning to take effect, “Anything can be a celebration,” you continued as the joint found its way between your lips again.

The music in the background set the mood for the conversation between you and Yeonjun—in your own bubble you conversed about celebrations and for once, you felt happy without anxiety eating you up inside.

As the night progressed, Yeonjun invited you to continue the celebration at his place, making you feel giddy inside, being cross faded didn't allow you to overthink the situation. Before leaving with Yeonjun, you made sure to let Beomgyu know of your whereabouts. He doesn't let you go before teasing you a bit, his eyes glimmering with mischief at the thought of the two of you being alone together.

After taking an Uber, you and Yeonjun arrived at his place. Nervousness bubbled within you, you didn't expect Yeonjun to invite someone like you to his apartment. Settling on the couch, the two began to sober up as music played in the background, its soft melodies mingling with the ambient lighting within the room, setting the mood.

For the next hour, you conversed about mundane things—you shared stories about the new flower you're tending to while Yeonjun animatedly told you of his love for pottery.

Despite the TV flickering in the background, you couldn't help but notice Yeonjun's gaze lingering on your lips for a moment longer than it should. The way the proximity between you two closed in just slightly, felt electric. Your knees brushing against each other made you feel excited—in your little moment things felt easy, the comfort that surrounded the atmosphere was like no other, wrapping its arms around you, shielding you from the outside world.

“May I kiss you?” Yeonjun whispered, his voice low and filled with longing as he gently twirls a strand of your hair, “It's just that, you’re so addicting; I can't help but want you.” With a mixture of desire and sincerity, his eyes searched for yours—causing your heart to race with excitement and anticipation as the tension thickened.

Not trusting your own voice, you nodded, granting him permission. As his hands found their way on your face, he caressed the apples of your cheeks—glancing at your lips, before locking eyes with you again. With blown-out pupils, he searched for any signs of hesitance from you. Once satisfied, Yeonjun closed the gap—his lips against yours are softer than you expected. The kiss itself was amazing—to you, it felt better than fireworks—it felt as if your souls were intertwined, surrounded by bursts of colours. The way Yeonjun held you sent shivers down your spine—gentle, as if he was scared to break you, yet also scared to lose you.

Running your hands through his hair, you deepened the kiss, feeling more alive than you did before. The moment made you feel giddy, yet anxious, the weed in your systems further amplifying the experience. As you pulled away, laughter bubbled between you, euphoria rushing through your veins. The second kiss is more desperate, as if you were afraid of disappearing from each other's grasp.

Breaking the kiss, your foreheads touched—the only sounds are the TV and music in the background, mixed in with your heavy breathing. “Do you want to continue this upstairs?” Yeonjun asked, his gaze locked onto yours, the unspoken feelings dancing around you.

“I'd love to,” you whispered, almost as if you were afraid of shattering the moment.

“Are you sure?” Concern flickered in his eyes. “We can stop here if you want.”

Leaning in, you pecked his lips softly, smiling as you said, “I've never been more sure about something in my life.”

The morning after was quiet—the early morning light seeped into the room, giving you an undeniable glow. Yeonjun felt as if he’s on top of the world—with you beside him, dressed in his shirt, a gentle reminder of the night you shared. He thought you look beautiful like this, in his clothes—even in your tranquil state, Yeonjun can't help but gaze at you in wonder.

Every aspect of the night before remained in the forefront of his mind. From the moment on the balcony to the conversations in his apartment—Yeonjun couldn't get rid of the grin on his face. The way you smiled at him throughout the night, the way your eyes sparkled with joy as you maintained conversation had him captivated. The moment your lips met, it felt as if the world had faded away—you ignited something within him that Yeonjun didn't know existed, a feeling deep down that made him want to savour every moment with you. He remembered the way your bodies intertwined—the way he lost himself in you, the way he was finally able to worship you. The shared breaths and whispered words, a moment he wished he could inscribe into his very being.

As a cool breeze makes its way into the room, it caused you to unconsciously reach out for him, making his heart leap for joy. With you beside him, Yeonjun believed he could conquer anything. As your body instinctively stayed close to him, he couldn't help but smile, he wondered if you would want more from the relationship—at least, he hoped you did.

Contrary to what people thought on campus, despite his undeniable popularity, Yeonjun was a lover boy at heart. He never indulged in the idea of hookups or meaningless relationships, he always valued something deeper. But when it came to you, Yeonjun felt all logic go out the window—he couldn't help but want to go against his values if it meant he got to stay beside you. He wasn’t sure about your views on relationships, but Yeonjun hoped you’d want something more with him.

Scared that the moment might be ruined, Yeonjun decided to be a bit selfish. Even if it was just for a while, he held you a little closer, fantasizing about the idea of you being together. He wasn't sure what would happen when you woke up, but for now, Yeonjun enjoyed the proximity between you two, the warmth of your skin against his. Without a doubt, he was scared—scared that from this moment on, things wouldn't be the same with you, and his chances of having you might have already slipped away.

Waking up, your nostrils were filled with a pleasant scent of coffee, its rich aroma filling the room. As you gathered your bearings, you rubbed your eyes and sat up. Your body ached pleasantly as you thought of what had occurred between you and Yeonjun the night before—flushing as the memories replayed in your mind. Although you hated to admit it, you had never felt so wanted in your life. You remembered the way Yeonjun’s hands adorned your body—the way he treated you as if you were a sacred item. Even when you told him he could be rougher, Yeonjun couldn't help but be gentle with you, as if you were a gift so delicate it could break—the way he whispered sweet nothings in your ear as he made love to you was something foreign to you, and it scared you.

In the back of your mind, the words of Josh, your ex, plagued you, reminding you that you were nothing more than a body for men to use. The more you thought of Yeonjun, the louder the voice became—as if it was mocking you for the happiness you so selfishly sought. You hated your ex and the power he still held over you despite being six feet under. The way his rough hands made you feel still haunted you, the way it felt to be a puppet while he was the master—the way he treated you like nothing but a doll, the way—

“Hey, you okay?” Yeonjun asked, as he peeked his head into the room. He gazed at you softly with concern, “I made us breakfast. I'll give you a sec to freshen up, and you can meet me downstairs.” He left you alone and suddenly your once festering thoughts retreated—afraid to reveal themselves almost as if Yeonjun were their kryptonite.

Breakfast felt suffocating. Yeonjun sat at the kitchen table, the scent of freshly brewed coffee, kimbap, and kimchi pancakes wafting through the air. He glanced at you, seated across from him—your hair dishevelled from the night before, your eyes weary and still in the process of waking up. The sight made his heart flutter despite the awkwardness that swirled in the air.

For once, Yeonjun didn't know how to begin the conversation—the only thought occupying his mind was you.

“Last night…you were amazing,” he began, his voice shaky. “Every moment we spent together, I enjoyed it. Even before this happened, your presence always captivated me. This just made me feel more connected to you.”

Surprise flickered in your eyes, causing you to momentarily choke on your coffee, “Yeah, it was nice,” clearing your throat, trying to make your tone casual, “I think that was the best night I’ve ever had.” Despite your praise, Yeonjun can't help but feel the tension that lay beneath your words.

Taking a deep breath, Yeonjun tried again, “I really like you, Blossom. Like, really like you.” His heart raced, the words tumbled out before he had a chance to think, “I know we've been talking for a while, but I would love to get to know you on a deeper level, if you'll allow me to.”

The surprise was evident in your eyes as you looked up, then it faded into something more guarded, almost scared. “Yeonjun, I—” you hesitated, causing Yeonjun to visibly deflate, the anxiety creeping in as he braced for your response.

“I can't promise you a relationship,” you continued, causing Yeonjun’s stomach to drop, a lump forming in his throat, “But, if you want, we can keep things simple—a friends with benefits arrangement? I promise not to do any sort of written agreement; it's just right now I'd prefer something with no strings attached. I'm sorry.”

Despite Yeonjun's desire for something more, he considered your suggestion. Even though it completely went against his voice on reason, he rather hold on to the physical connection for now than lose you entirely.

Running his hands through his hair, “I can do that,” he replied, even if the words on his tongue felt like a dagger slowly twisting into his heart. “I am giving you full disclosure that I'm still interested in you, not just…this.”

For a moment, your gaze lingered on him, making Yeonjun’s throat tighten. “I appreciate your honesty, Yeonjun. But for right now, I really don't think I can handle something deeper. I'm sorry.”

Nodding, breakfast resumed as if everything was normal. The tense atmosphere still lingered, but it gradually faded into something different—the unspoken understanding hung in the air, words and lingering glances between you and Yeonjun made him feel as if the arrangement would be more than what he bargained for.

Slowly, you fell into conversation, your small smile brightening as you complimented his cooking, “I didn't know you could cook like this Yeonjun! These kimchi pancakes taste amazing.” The way you giggled as if the prior conversation had never occurred, hurt Yeonjun in a way that he's never felt before. Despite the dull ache in his chest, he couldn't help but gaze at you lovingly, forever captivated by your presence.

For once, Yeonjun is grateful that Soobin wasn't home for the weekend. He'd hate having to explain the current state of affairs—not only the tension in their shared apartment but also in his heart. The thought of Soobin questioning him made him shudder.

As you continued to chat, talking about your plans for the day Yeonjun found himself stuck between two worlds; in one world he's with you, a smile adorning you face as you share breakfast and in another he's in his head, hoping that somehow the gods above would grant him grace, and maybe, just maybe this arrangement could lead to something more.

But as he takes a sip of his coffee, its bitter taste reminded him of his reality—with the boundaries you've set, Yeonjun has to thread carefully, balancing his feelings, even if it hurts him in the end. For now, he decides to savour these moments, even if it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

After breakfast, Yeonjun drove you home, the car was filled with a comfortable silence with the soft hum of the radio. As you found yourself lost in thought, you glanced over at Yeonjun, watching the way his eyes shone as he hummed along to the melody—his fingers tapping against the steering wheel, matching the rhythm. You pondered over this morning's events—Yeonjun making you breakfast, the way he expressed his desire for wanting something more, which both excited and scared you. Even in this moment, Yeonjun radiated a warmth like no other, his presence, even in such a serene moment was immaculate.

As he catched your gaze, he smiled brightly—leaving an unbearable flutter in your chest, reminding you that the arrangement itself is more than you deserve. In the back of your mind, memories of your ex nagged at you—reminding you of the way he belittled you, reducing you to nothing but an object of desire. A relationship built on sand, destined to crumble; he made you feel invisible, your feelings and interests insignificant as it had no bearing on the satisfaction you gave him—leaving you, a hollow shell of your former self.

As Yeonjun pulled into the driveway of your apartment, the engine's soft purr and the tunes from the radio, created a moment of tranquillity. In the passenger seat you watched Yeonjun, drinking in the way the sunlight gave him an undeniable glow. “Thanks for driving me home, Yeonjun, and breakfast. It was amazing,” your voice, feathery, like the air.

Yeonjun turned to face you, his eyes filled with warmth, “It was a pleasure having you, Blossom. I enjoyed having you over,” the softness in his voice spreading warmth throughout your body.

Suddenly, his gaze made you feel shy, a blush creeping up on your cheeks. “I should get going now,” you murmured, fumbling with your seatbelt. “I'm sure Beomgyu is waiting for me.” As you unbuckled, Yeonjun leaned across, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. Your breath hitched at the unexpected intimacy. Before you could fully process what happened Yeonjun leaned in, kissing you tenderly.

Despite your surprise, you welcomed the kiss, relishing in the feeling—his hand cradling your chin, pulling you closer while your hands instinctively gripped his shirt.

Pulling away, a playful grin adorned Yeonjun’s face, “I hope to see you soon, Pretty.”

“See you soon, Yeonjun,” you replied with flushed cheeks as you stepped out of the car, waving goodbye as he drove off.

“Woah, what was that?” A voice called from behind you, pulling you from your thoughts. You turned around, mortified, coming face to face with Beomgyu who leaned casually against your front door, his eyes glimmering with mischief.

“Gyu! When did you get here?” you exclaimed, wishing the ground would swallow you whole.

Beomgyu chuckled, clearly amused, “Sorry to break it to you Petal, but I've been here since Yeonjun drove in. Was wondering when he'd bring you back.” His teasing tone made your cheeks flush even more.

Unable to muster a response, the bag in your hand, once forgotten, suddenly felt heavier. “You know,” Beomgyu teased, leaning in closer, “you can't hide anything from me, right? Especially after that kiss. Let's get you inside,” He said as he took the bag from you, “How about we have some ramyeon and talk about it, yeah?”

Unable to resist ramyeon with Beomgyu, you nodded eagerly. As you made your way next to him, he ruffled your hair, “I can't believe I saw you kissing Choi Yeonjun! Who would've thought?”

You laughed slyly, teasingly pushing Beomgyu as you made your way into the apartment.

Amidst the laughs echoing within the confines of your apartment, you and Beomgyu settled on the floor, slurping your ramyeon as you recalled the time you spent with Yeonjun, sparing him the explicit details. Moments like these allowed you to cherish your friendship—its warmth wraps around you like a swaddling cloth, reminding you of your appreciation for your best friend.

III || Changing Seasons ٠ ࣪⭑ˎˊ˗

Like the season, as Autumn progressed, and the air grew colder in preparation for Winter—so did Yeonjun's relationship with you. The start of your arrangement felt shy, filled with fleeting glances and even shyer touches. It felt ironic that you and Yeonjun were shy with each other despite having explored each other before.

Despite the initial shyness, Yeonjun took you to stargaze one evening—determined to maintain your friendship, even if you have seen each other naked.

Settling on the soft blanket spread across the grass, the world around you felt idyllic—the evening sky coloured an indigo hue, adorned with the sparkles of countless stars. The moment felt protected, almost as if the gods themselves were watching over you, ensuring your moment of peace.

As you both lied down, you snuggled close to Yeonjun, using his arm as a pillow. It made his heart race—the proximity between you two highlighted your scent, with undertones of lilac and cinnamon, Yeonjun couldn’t help but feel his focus falter, lost in the warmth of your presence.

“Look at that,” Yeonjun whispered in your ear, pointing upwards. “That's Pisces, the two fishes are swimming in opposite directions.”

“Yeah?” you replied, looking up at him, your eyes twinkling in the moonlight.

“Yeah,” Yeonjun smiled softly, booping your nose as he looked at you. Your laugh in response was light and melodic, reminding him of a choir of angels.

“And over there,” you pointed out this time. “That's Andromeda, right?”

Yeonjun looked down at you smiling, “Yeah, the princess who was saved by Perseus.” For a moment, he paused, contemplating the weight of his next words, “Do you think they're us?” Yeonjun whispered, his voice laced with curiosity.

“Do you save me from a sea monster?” You joked, eyes glimmering with mischief.

“Maybe,” Yeonjun replied, pulling you closer as the air grew serious. “Just like Perseus fought for Andromeda, I'll fight for you. In every lifetime, I'll slay your metaphorical sea monster, once it means I get to have you.”

Instantly, you sat up, looking back at Yeonjun in shock, “Jjun…” you mumbled, tears forming in your eyes, a mix of disbelief and overwhelming emotions. The sincerity behind his declaration caused your heart to swell, hardly believing his words you wondered, could it be true? In every lifetime? The thought fills you with hope but also a flutter of anxiety at the idea of someone wanting you that badly.

Yeonjun brought you back down, allowing you to face each other. “I mean it,” he whispered, even quieter. “In every lifetime, I'd fight for you.”

The air became thick with unspoken words, the magnetic pull drew you closer together. You felt the warmth radiating from him, the sincerity in his gaze made your heart race. Slowly, you leaned in, your lips brushing against his in a tender, tentative kiss.

You pulled away, breathless, searching his eyes for something more—with a blush adorning your cheeks, you smile shyly, “You really mean that?”

“Every word.” Yeonjun affirmed with confidence and sincerity, “I'd face anything for you.”

Under the twilight sky, it felt as if everything else faded into nothingness and only the two of you remain, lost in each other—the twinkling stars above witness your love, the beginning of a beautiful journey together.

Winter arrived in full force—as she finally settled, claiming her throne, the air felt crisp as she covered the Earth in soft layers of white. As the snowflakes danced with one another in the air, it felt as though they represented the relationship between you and Yeonjun—a transformative moment between you two, where shy touches turned into confident ones.

Snowflakes drifted lazily outside your window, reminding you of the warmth that you yearned for during the season. It was Christmas week, and Beomgyu had been urging you for weeks to come home since his family hadn't seen you for a while. Despite missing them, you decided to spend Christmas alone this year—a solemn feeling settling in as you looked back on the year gone by.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come home this year, Petal?” Beomgyu asked again, his voice glimmering with hope as he got ready to leave. “Mom and dad miss you, even my annoying brother misses seeing your face.” he pouted as he held onto your arm.

Reassuring him you replied, “I’m sure, Cookie. I want you all to enjoy time on your own.” You offered him a small smile, hoping to ease his worries. “I'll be okay. I promise. If it gets too lonely, I'll spend time with Yeonjun.”

Despite his distaste, Beomgyu doesn't push you further—he pulled you into a tight hug, his warmth enveloping you. “I can't believe this is our first Christmas apart. I'll miss you, Petal.”

“I'll miss you too, Cookie. Take care and enjoy Christmas for me,” you said, as you watched him leave.

Closing the door, you thought of ways to decorate the apartment. Even though you didn't feel the Christmas spirit, you began to gather old decorations to get yourself into the holiday mood.

On Christmas Eve, however, Yeonjun messaged you, asking you if he could come over. This year, he decided to spend Christmas on campus, and with Soobin going home this year, he felt a bit lonely. Welcoming the idea of two lonely souls being together for the holidays, Yeonjun was now sitting in your apartment, the two of you cuddling under blankets, watching nostalgic Christmas movies and sipping hot cocoa. The air was thick with the scent of pine and cinnamon creating an atmosphere that almost felt domestic—the way you both eased into each other, as if it has always been that way. As the months went by, your relationship changed, where friends became something deeper, yet neither of you refused to acknowledge the change.

As midnight arrives, Yeonjun goes to the Christmas tree you had decorated days prior and reached for your gift. He turned to you, eyes sparkling with adoration, warmth and a touch of nervousness, “Merry Christmas, Blossom. It isn't much, but I wanted to get you something that reminded me of our time together.

As he handed you the gift, you admired the way it's wrapped—the care radiating from it. With a shy smile, you slowly unwrapped the present, revealing a delicate gold necklace, adorned with a sunflower and blossom pendant. Reminding you of your first interaction together, tears pricked at your eyes. “It's beautiful,” you breathed, touched by Yeonjun’s thoughtfulness as it showed you how much he valued the relationship you had built thus far.

“Put it on for me?” you asked, smiling cutely at Yeonjun with sparkling eyes. As you handed Yeonjun the necklace and turned around, his hand touched you almost teasingly, as he fastened it around your neck—his hands lingered a moment longer than necessary, but you didn't mind the warmth from his fingertips.

As you turned back around, you reached up to him, giving him a tender kiss. Feeling the way his breath hitched in response, sent a thrill through you. Immediately, he responded to you, pulling you closer—the air thick with unspoken feelings. As he deepened the kiss, it became more passionate, more sensual, more urgent. A soft sigh escaped you as Yeonjun, savoured your taste in the moment, your natural bittersweetness mingling with remnants of the hot cocoa from earlier, creating a unique flavour.

Before things could go further, you pulled away, giggling at the way Yeonjun pouted at you. “Wait, let me give you your gift too!” you said excitedly as you made your way to the tree, picking up a medium sized box adorned with a blue and white bow.

“What is it?” Yeonjun asked, his eyes glimmering with curiosity as you handed him the box.

“Open it, silly!” you giggled, playfully slapping his arm, a mix of excitement and nervousness bubbling within you.

As Yeonjun opened the box, his eyes seemed to shine brighter than they ever did before. Pulling out a beautifully knitted sweater and matching scarf—its purple and blue yarn interchanging to form a beautiful blend that brings out his complexion, your love felt in every stitch.

“Wow,” he breathed, slipping the sweater on, “You made this?”

Heat slowly crept onto your cheeks, “Yeah! I wanted to make you something you could use. To keep you warm during the Winter,” you replied shyly.

Yeonjun’s expression softened as he wrapped the scarf around himself, “And it's the perfect fit too. Thank you, Blossom. This is the best gift ever; no one has ever made me something like this before. I love it, really.”

With that, Yeonjun leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead, then on your nose, a kiss for each cheek before finally settling on your lips. Unlike the kiss before, this one felt innocent—full of unconditional love, as if Yeonjun was trying to transfer all his feelings into that one kiss.

He pulled back for a moment, gazing lovingly into your eyes, before holding your face tenderly and kissing you slowly again. As you gripped his sweater, you returned the kiss, hoping your emotions were transferred too.

As the snow began to fall, the two of you continued to kiss in the middle of your apartment, the glow of the Christmas lights adoring both your features. With love filling the air, you shared an unforgettable Christmas—a moment that showed the blossoming of journey together.

Yeonjun made your apartment his home for the next week—relishing in the domestic moments together, from sharing the same bed to cooking meals together, you and Yeonjun enjoyed your time escaping from the world. Instead of attending a New Year’s Eve party, you both decided to spend the night together—savouring the intimacy that formed between you.

As the clock inched closer to midnight, you found yourselves on the balcony outside your room, swaying gently to the soft melody in the background. Holding you close, Yeonjun admired you—with the snowflakes adoring your hair and fairy lights from your room, casting a soft glow on your face, he thought you looked ethereal, almost like an angel.

“You're the best thing that happened to me,” he said, breaking the comfortable silence that formed between you.

Looking up at him, your eyes wide with disbelief, “How so?”

“It's just that…ever since I met you, I've never felt more alive. I feel like I can finally breathe.” Yeonjun paused, looking down at you, gauging your reaction. You seem content in the moment, staying close to him as you continued to sway. “You make me feel alive. Every moment I spend with you, I cherish. Almost as if I'm afraid to lose you,” he admitted embarrassment colouring his cheeks.

You stopped swaying, your gaze locking onto his, your eyes melancholic, “You won’t lose me Jjun. I promise.”

A sad smile tugged at Yeonjun’s lips as he hoped to believe you. Yet, in the back of his mind, a mocking voice reminded him that it was only an arrangement—nothing more, nothing less. Ignoring it, Yeonjun focused on the warmth of the moment, determined to live in the present.

As the countdown played softly from the TV in your room, you and Yeonjun picked up your wine glasses, excitement bubbling between you as you joined the countdown, gazing into each other’s eyes.

“Ten…nine…eight…” With each number, the anticipation grew and once the countdown reached zero, Yeonjun immediately pulled you into a sweet kiss, his glass resting forgotten on the table beside you.

“Happy New Year, Blossom,” he murmured against your lips, voice thick with emotion.

Pulling back slowly, you rest your drink next to him before you shyly pecked his lips, “Happy New Year, Sunflower. Thank you for starting the new year with me.”

Laughing softly, Yeonjun responded, “Of course, there’s no one else I'd rather spend New Year’s with than you.”

In that moment, surrounded by the soft glow of the lights and the gentle snowfall, the weight of the world felt momentarily lifted. No one knew what the future held, but despite the uncertainty, you had each other, and for now, that was enough.

For the remainder of Winter break, Yeonjun was able to encourage you to spend it at his apartment.

Currently, you both were in the kitchen, the soft hum of holiday music filling the air—the countertops were dusted with flour and sugar, a sweet scent of vanilla and orange in the atmosphere, enticing you—a perfect way to end the holiday celebrations.

As you measured the ingredients, putting it in the bowl, Yeonjun ensured he preheated the oven correctly—he glanced at you for a moment, drinking in the way you were, adorned in one of his hoodies and sweatpants, your eyebrows were furrowed in concentration as you glanced between the recipe and the bowl. Your hair was pulled back in a messy bun, a few strands fell delicately in your face as you ensured you were following the correct steps. Even in this moment, something so simple, Yeonjun thought you're the most beautiful being ever.

“How’s little miss baker going?” Yeonjun teased as he hugged you from behind.

“Good!” you replied, as you tried to look up at him, “I just have to mix the batter.”

“Let me help you with that,” Yeonjun said, as he held your hand. Mixing the batter together—the warmth between your bodies merged together, the simple moment, feeling intimate between you both. Once the batter was thoroughly mixed, Yeonjun poured the batter in the pan, deciding to give you a gentle kiss as he placed it in the oven.

Moments like these Yeonjun cherished the most, while he loved the passionate moments when you were under him, the domestic nature of these innocently intimate moments felt like a drug—addicting, with no chances of sobriety.

Once the cake finished baking and cooled, you and Yeonjun moved to the counter to ice it. The scent of the freshly baked good filled the air, as you both prepared to decorate your creation. As you spread a generous layer of frosting, your tongue peeked out in concentration as you focussed intently—grabbing another spatula caused a dollop of icing to land on the corner of your mouth. Yeonjun couldn't help but chuckle. Glancing at you, he pointed playfully. “You have something there, Blossom,” a teasing smile on his lips as he gestured to the corner of your lips . With raised eyebrows, you reached up to wipe it away, but before you could, Yeonjun stepped closer, his gaze locking with yours, “Let me help you with that,” he murmured, his voice low and inviting.

Without waiting for a response, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, tentative kiss, the sweetness of the icing lingering between you, igniting the moment into something more—something passionate. Yeonjun’s hands cupped your face, tilting your head slightly upwards as he deepened the kiss, his tongue brushing against your lips, asking for permission.

With the parting of your lips, you allowed him to slip inside, a rush of warmth and arousal flooded between you—the cake long forgotten as the world around you began to fade away, leaving only the taste of the frosting as you found yourselves lost in each other.

Yeonjun’s heart raced as you leaned into him, feeling the heat radiating from your body—his hands travelled from your face down to your waist, where he pulled you closer as your hands travelled through his hair, slightly tugging. In that moment, nothing else mattered, it was just the two of you, wrapped in a cocoon of sweetness and desire.

“Hey, are you two—” Soobin’s voice trailed off, his eyes widening in surprise as he took in the scene before him. A half-decorated cake sat forgotten on the counter, icing smeared across the table, and the two of you quickly pulled away—cheeks flushed, your lips glistening with remnants of frosting, a sweet testament to the kiss you just shared. You exchanged a glance, filled with a mix of embarrassment and amusement, the moment charged with an undeniable spark that remained lingering in the air.

Soobin blinked, processing the scene before him before bursting into awkward laughter. “Didn't mean to interrupt your, uh…baking session,” he teased. A playful grin spread across his face as he watched your cheeks deepen in colour and Yeonjun with a smug smile on his face.

“Yeah,” Yeonjun grinned, clearing his throat, “We were just, uh, tasting the frosting, you know, quality control.”

Soobin, raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced but amused, “More like tasting each other.”

“Sorry you had to see that, Soobin,” you squeaked out as the embarrassment slowly washes away. “Do you want to help us finish frost the cake? I promise all taste testing is over.”

Yeonjun laughed as Soobin accepted your invitation, grabbing a spare spatula. The earlier embarrassment faded, replaced by the warm laughter of you three as you attempted to decorate the cake.

You don't interact with Soobin much, but in the moments that you do, you cherish the quiet friendship between you both—he reminds you of your departed brother, the way he quietly looked after you, his steady presence bringing comfort to your life.

As you three admired your chaotic masterpiece—a lopsided snowman adoring the top of the cake, an attempt at a winter wonderland—you couldn't help but laugh at the delightful mess you made.

Amidst the chaos, you settled down enjoying your cake while watching nostalgic holiday movies.

“This is definitely the best cake I’ve ever seen,” Soobin joked, earning a playful nudge from Yeonjun.

Surrounded by this chaotic, sweet moment you realized this is exactly what you needed—a reminder that love and friendship can coexist beautifully, having you thankful for your formed friendships—a beautiful end to winter break indeed.

With Spring’s return, you are reminded of your first interaction with Yeonjun—on the balcony of a random party, there you were, two unlikely souls who formed an unseemly connection. Now, life without him seemed dull—like the flower he represents, Yeonjun had brightened your life in ways you never thought possible. Choi Yeonjun became the air you breathe, a deeply engraved part of you. Looking back on your time together you feel alive—like you've never felt before, grateful for the man you've met.

At the start of the season, you decided to take Yeonjun to a flower arrangement class. Within the flower shop, the scent of fresh blooms delightfully filled the air, everyone in their own world as they received guidance from the instructor. You remembered how you made arrangements for each other—Yeonjun gifting you baby's breath and lilies while you chose carnations and tulips for him. Both arrangements perfectly made to fit the vases you crafted for each other in a previous pottery class. Although they weren't perfect, the vases were filled with character and love, serving as a constant reminder of the time you've shared.

“Hey, are you two dating by chance?” a participant asked you, glancing at the way you and Yeonjun conversed.

Surprised, you quickly glanced at Yeonjun, who was busy fixing his arrangement. “No, just friends!” you replied, perhaps a bit too quickly.

“Well, from the way he looks at you, Sweetheart, that man is totally in love with you. I hope you don't let him go.” As the participant turned back to their arrangement, you looked back at Yeonjun.

“What was that about?” he asks curiously.

“Nothing,” you brushed off casually. “She just said our arrangements were pretty.”

As the class continued that day, you found yourself staring at Yeonjun more than before, wondering of the way he looked at you. But for now, you savoured the moment—enjoying the way his arrangement brightened your apartment in its vase, reminding you of him every time you looked at it.

With the progression of Spring, your birthday dawned, bringing with it a sense of renewal and hope. You stirred awake to the soft sound of singing, fluttering your eyes open, you saw Beomgyu walking in, a big smile on his face as he carried a tray in his hands.

“Happy Birthday, Petal,” Beomgyu sang softly as he rested the tray on your nightstand—the aroma of seaweed soup and the assortment of side dishes, waking you up pleasantly.

As he ruffled your hair playfully, you sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. “Thank you, Cookie,” you replied, giving him a small hug.

Growing up, you hated your birthday, it being a painful reminder of the loss you suffered—a reminder of those who abandoned you, but with Beomgyu by your side, he and his family embraced you as their own, ensuring you enjoyed your birthday regardless. For the remainder of your morning, you and Beomgyu enjoyed breakfast in bed, sharing laughter and reminiscing on the moments you spent together. After a while you video called his parents who, despite being away, wanted to celebrate with you. A familiar warmth filled you as you enjoy the remainder of your morning with your best friend and his family, thankful for the love they gave you.

“Thanks for breakfast, Gyu, and for always celebrating my birthday with me. You mean a lot to me, I hope you know that.” You said sincerely as you both made your way downstairs.

“Of course,” Beomgyu grinned, “I wouldn't have it any other way. I hope you look forward to tonight!” he teased, winking at you.

“Tonight?” you say confused.

Once you make your way down, Beomgyu handed you a flat velvety-black box, mischief glimmering in his eyes, “Open it.” Opening the box, revealed a note, which said,

To my World,

Happy Birthday Blossom!

I hope you love this surprise! I wanted to get you a special outfit for tonight. I think it would look amazing on you, something to make you feel as beautiful and confident as you truly are.

Reservation is at 8. Can't wait to see you tonight!

Love,

Your Sunflower, Yeonjun.

With disbelief in your eyes, you set the note down gently before turning your attention to the box, pulling out the most breathtaking dress ever created by man. The fabric felt luxurious and soft against your fingertips, its silhouette destined to hug your curves in all the right places while cascading gracefully to the floor. Its colour was deep and rich—a beautiful shade that complemented your skin tone beautifully.

“He sure knows how to make a girl feel special, huh?” Beomgyu, commented as he observed your reaction. Wordlessly, you nod, rendered speechless. Then, you reached for the heels nestled beside the dress. Their design was one of a kind, a stunning blend of elegance and allure—sleek and sophisticated, their graceful arch that would elongate your leg just enough while adding an air of confidence to your stride. The shoes were not just an accessory, but a statement piece, elevating the outfit and making you feel empowered.

“You knew about this?” You asked Beomgyu as you looked up, your eyes filled with amazement.

“Maybe,” he teased. “Needed to help him get your perfect size.”

You playfully swatted Beomgyu’s arm, “Gyu, what the fuck? I’m genuinely at a loss for words.”

Ruffling your hair, Beomgyu chuckled, “I hope you enjoy your night, Petal.”

The evening couldn't come soon enough. As you added the final touches to your outfit, you admired yourself in the mirror. The dress adorned your body beautifully, the silhouette hugging your curves perfectly, accentuating your waist as it flowed gracefully to the floor. The neckline’s elegant cut revealed enough skin to feel alluring while leaving the rest to the imagination. The slit that went up to your thigh allowed the heel to peek through, adding a hint of playful sexiness.

Your makeup was perfectly understated, enhancing your features while making you look even more irresistible. Finally, the necklace Yeonjun gave you last Christmas felt like the perfect finishing touch—the way its delicate chain rests against your collarbone, completing the look entirely.

With one final twirl in front the mirror, you applied your perfume—amber and vanilla, swirling together creating an intoxicating scent that lingered. Grabbing your purse, you make your way downstairs, excitedly waiting for Yeonjun's arrival.

“Woah! You look amazing,” Beomgyu commented, his eyes wide with admiration. “Yeonjun will absolutely love it.”

“You think so?” you asked nervously, your heart racing at the thought of Yeonjun seeing you like this. The weight of the evening hung in the air—despite you and Yeonjun being in each other's company for a year, this felt different, and you couldn't help but wonder what tonight might bring.

Before Beomgyu could answer, the doorbell rang, its chime feeling louder than usual, almost as if it was mimicking your nervousness. “That’s him!” Beomgyu grinned as he made his way to the door.

As Yeonjun’s silhouette was revealed, you couldn��t help but gasp softly at his appearance. Adorned in a simple black suit—his hair was styled slicked back, exposing his forehead—an unexpected but striking look for him, different to his usual, everyday style. The slight exposure of his chest housed a simple chain, while various rings and a few bracelets decorated his hands, adding a touch of flair to the entire ordeal.

In one hand, Yeonjun held a bouquet of red roses, an addicting aroma filled the air as their sweet scent mixed with his musky perfume. When he looked at you, the world seemed to stand still. You didn't see it before, but in this moment, you finally recognized the way Yeonjun looked at you—as if his eyes penetrated your very soul. He looked at you as if you're the only woman on Earth—as if no one else existed. Finally, you saw the depth of his feelings, the way he looked at you with so much love both excited and scared you.

“Roses, for the most beautiful girl in the world,” Yeonjun said, as he stepped into the room and handed you the bouquet. “Happy birthday, Gorgeous. You look absolutely divine.”

With a gentle kiss on the forehead, Yeonjun took a step back and looked at you again, his eyes filled with an undeniable admiration. Smiling shyly, you replaced the old flowers in your vase with the newly received roses, their vibrant petals standing out beautifully against the soft glow of the candles. Before you both leave, Beomgyu excitedly brought his camera out, taking out a few pictures to commemorate the memory, encouraging you both to stand close, like a proud dad.

As you made your way to the restaurant, you couldn't help but focus on the way Yeonjun’s hand felt against your thigh, his slightly calloused hands gripped you softly, sending a rush of warmth through you, while the other confidently steered the wheel.

“What are you thinking about?” you asked Yeonjun, your voice unusually shy.

“You.” he says, gripping your thigh a little tighter. His simple admittance rendered you speechless, leaving you aroused. As you pulled into the restaurant's parking lot, the only thing you could focus on was Yeonjun and the way he ignited a desire within you, one that can only be quenched by feeling his body against yours. Thinking of the way he peppered kisses along your skin under the moonlight, the warmth of his breath that sent shivers down your spine—the thought left you unfocused—in anticipation of what the rest of the night might have to offer.

The soft lighting illuminated the restaurant creating an intimate atmosphere, perfect for the occasion. As the night progressed, you both enjoyed a delightful dinner—one filled with laughter and reminiscent stories of the time you spent together, a circumstance you never expected to be in.

When the special birthday dessert was brought out at Yeonjun’s request, he eagerly took his phone to capture the moment. The dessert, a beautiful, deconstructed cheesecake, topped with rose petals and fresh strawberry pieces, looks almost too divine to eat. As you smiled softly, the light from the candle faintly reflected in your eyes, making you look even more alive in the moment.

Reaching into his pocket, Yeonjun pulled out a small, elegantly wrapped box—your heart racing as he placed it in front of you. “Happy birthday again, Darling,” he said, his voice low and sincere.

Unwrapping the gift, you revealed a small framed picture of your time spent under the stars last Autumn and a delicate silver chain. Attached to it was a pendant of Perseus’ constellation—something so simple, yet powerful.

“A reminder of our time,” Yeonjun started, shyly showing you his hand. It's decorated with a matching bracelet with a pendant of Andromeda attached. “I really meant what I said then. I’d face anything for you.

You couldn’t help but feel a wave of love and gratitude wash over you, knowing that this night was one you would cherish forever.

The night ended within the confines of Yeonjun’s bedroom—with your dress on the floor and his hands feverishly exploring your body, tracing over your curves. Each touch sent a wave of electricity coursing through you. Wrapped in each other, you lost track of time—with a touch, gentle and possessive, you arch into Yeonjun, craving more of him. The kisses, nothing short of passionate, ignited that fire within you as you made love to each other.

While the rest of the world slept, you found solace in your intimate space, rediscovering not only each other’s bodies but also the depths of your unspoken feelings that lingered in the air. The warmth of his skin against yours as he held you close, whispering sweet nothings—creating a cocoon of intimacy and love.

Its night of passion, a suitable end to a wonderful birthday, indeed—leaving you both breathless, yearning for more.

The Summer before senior year crashed in like a wave, washing over you with a mixture of excitement and uncertainty—the sunny days and vibrant colours Summer brought with her filled you with anticipation for the season ahead. For the first time in a while, you and Yeonjun were spending some time apart, each returning to your respective homes for a bit. Despite not wanting to be separated, they did say that absence makes the heart grow fonder—the saying filled you with hope, excitement coursing through your veins as you looked forward to being reunited with Yeonjun.

Even though thoughts of Yeonjun plagued your mind, you enjoyed your time back in Daegu with Beomgyu. His parents and brother welcomed you both back in open arms, almost as if you hadn't left in the first place. They ensured you've had your fill of the local cuisine before going back to Seoul in August, showering you in affection and home-cooked meals, reminding you of how much you missed familial warmth.

Beomgyu’s mom fussed over you, exclaiming that you've lost too much weight as she fed you generous plates of food. While his dad pinched your cheek lovingly asking if any boys were bothering you. It takes everything in you to not trample Beomgyu as he quickly mentioned Yeonjun—leaving his dad to lecture you on the importance of being a responsible adult.

Moments like these made you miss home. After they took you in and treated you as their own, you've always been grateful for their presence and the way they treated you as their daughter. Even the moments where Beomgyu and his brother teased you about Yeonjun filled you with joy. It felt oddly nice having two brothers tease you about boys—it allowed you to forget your family history, even for a moment. You don't mind it, as you felt truly happy with your found family.

As you sat in the living room one afternoon, everyone was doing their own thing while basking in each other’s presence. Your phone buzzed with Yeonjun’s name popping up as he video called you, a smile spread across your face as you answered, delighted to see and hear him.

“Hi Blossom!” Yeonjun beamed, his eyes lighting up as he saw you, “I miss you.” His admission left you flustered, “I miss you too, Jjun,” you smiled shyly. “How’s everything with your parents?” you asked, getting comfortable on the couch.

The conversation flowed easily as you shared stories about your time apart. You told him about all the home-cooked meals you had while he told you about the places he visited with his parents.

Suddenly, you heard a voice from off-screen, “Yeonjun, who are you talking to?” His mom said as she appeared on screen, her voice warm and curious. As he said your name, her eyes shine in recognition, “Blossom” she exclaims, smiling softly, “Jjunie, told me so much about you! You’re even prettier than he says!”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, embarrassed, “Thank you Mrs. Choi! I see where Yeonjun gets his looks from.”

Yeonjun’s mum gushed over your response, turning to him with a proud smile. “You've met such a sweet girl, Jjunie!”

As your chat continued, you glanced over at Beomgyu’s parents, who were watching you with knowing smiles. A sense of belonging washed over you, feeling glad to have received the warmth from Yeonjun’s family—it left you looking even more forward to being reunited with him.

Going back to Seoul felt bittersweet—after being under the care of Beomgyu’s family for the last month, it felt nice to let go of the worries of life, if only for a moment.

Even though you were glad to be back as it meant reuniting with Yeonjun, you couldn't help but wish to go on another getaway—somewhere sunny and serene, where you could relax under the sun, with the pleasant sea breeze brushing against your skin.

As you made your way into your apartment, Beomgyu looked at you with excitement.

“What?” you asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

“It's nothing,” he shrugged, resting his luggage down with a grin. “Just excited to see your reaction.”

You gave him a weird look. “To what?”

Beomgyu remained silent, his eyes sparkling with mischief as you headed upstairs. As you stood outside your bedroom door, Beomgyu leaned against the wall looking at you, he seemed to be more excited than before. You couldn't help but feel nervous as you wondered what lied beyond your door. The sight that greeted you left you utterly shocked. There, sitting on your bed, was Yeonjun, a wide smile spread across his features.

“Yeonjun?! What the fuck? I thought you were coming back to campus till next week?” you exclaimed, enveloping him in a tight hug.

Yeonjun laughed, the sound warm and familiar as he embraced you, lifting you off the ground for a moment. “We have plans, Blossom.”

“Plans?” You said as you took a step back, admiring Yeonjun for a moment. Despite the short time away, his hair is a bit longer and he had a glow to him that felt more confident than.

He took a deep breath, “I actually planned a trip for us to Jeju Island. We leave in a few hours.” His voice getting a bit softer, “I know how much you love the Summer and enjoying the beach. And I know you've never been before. I just wanted to have that new experience with you before senior year started. You deserve it.”

His words left you in shock, emotions overwhelmed you. Tears welled up in your eyes, “Oh my God, Yeonjun…” you whispered, your voice trembling. “How did you manage all this?”

Taken aback by your tears, Yeonjun wiped them away slowly, “Don't cry, Pretty.” A sheepish smile formed on his face, “My parents covered the cost actually. They knew how much I wanted to take you somewhere special and actually offered to pay for us. They were really excited for us to have this experience together.”

“Thank you Jjunie,’ you mumbled as you began to cry more, “no one has ever done this for me.”

“Do you like your surprise, Petal?” Beomgyu piped up, smirking.

You turn to him, eyes wide in disbelief. “You knew all this time?”

Beomgyu laughed softly, “I helped plan the trip. You deserve to enjoy yourself.”

A wave of gratitude washed over you—you couldn't help but laugh through your tears. The sheer realization that Yeonjun had put in so much effort to surprise you filled you with warmth, but it also scared you yet you were determined to make long-lasting memories.

And with that, you and Yeonjun embarked on your journey, hearts full of excitement and anticipation for the adventures that awaited you. The moment the plane arrived on Jeju Island; you were overflowing with excitement—overwhelmed with all the possibilities that lied ahead.

When you arrived at your accommodation, you were rendered speechless—it was a quaint little cottage hidden among the lush greenery overlooking one of the island’s many beaches. The warmth in its atmosphere makes it feel like a home away from home—with a beautiful exterior, adorned with wooden beams, the inside is even more breathtaking, leaving you in wonder; the inclusion of a skylight in the bedroom makes the place even more cozy than it did before.

“This place is beautiful,” you said to Yeonjun as you took it all in.

Yeonjun grinned, pleased with your reaction, “I thought you’d like it,” he pulled you close, “let’s rest a bit before we head out again, yeah?”

Your days in Jeju were nothing short of magical, filled with breathtaking views and cherished moments. While Yeonjun ensured to take you to known places such as the Hallasan National Park and the Cheonjiyeon Waterfall, he also ensured you enjoyed the quieter moments—taking a day trip to Biyangdo Island was one of those moments that left you captivated. The small uninhabited island left for a day filled with hiking and exploring, a moment you would never forget.

As the sun began to set on your last day in Jeju, the sky transformed into a breathtaking canvas as if it were painted with orange and red hues, casting a warm glow over the island. Your evening began with a lovely dinner at a local restaurant—as many other moments you've shared together, you and Yeonjun were in your own world, making idle chit chat as you savoured each other’s presence.

Followed by a walk along the beach near your cottage, you both enjoy the feeling of the sand between your toes as the ocean sang quiet hums to you with its waves—the moon, casting a silvery light over the water with the cool breeze creating a romantic atmosphere. Pulling out a pair of wired headphones, Yeonjun handed you one side as soft melodies began to play. As he held you close, you both swayed to its rhythm—losing yourselves in each other as the world melted into nothingness.

With a sweet kiss, your night concluded in the bedroom—as Yeonjun had you under the stars, your body glowed softly in the moonlight, only the melodious sounds of your breaths mingling together were heard. With every kiss, the connection deepened, somehow becoming more intimate than before—your heart full as Yeonjun looked at you in adoration, worshiping your body as if it were his last chance at salvation.

Resting his forehead against yours, Yeonjun confessed softly, “I love you,” his voice thick with emotion. The confession pierced your heart in a way you never felt before—as if all your fears and doubts began to rise to the surface, making it unable to breathe.

“Yeonjun…” you breathed, your voice trembling as tears began to spill over. The intensity of the moment left you overwhelmed, every insecurity you had felt more seen—leaving you exposed.

Cupping your face softly, his thumbs brushed away your tears that fell. “You don’t have to say it back,” he murmured, his eyes understanding. “I just wanted to let you know that I am truly and utterly in love with you.” As Yeonjun kissed you softly, your salty tears mixed in the kiss and you continued to cry, unable to contain your emotions. With each gentle kiss you shared, your heart ached more as the weight of his confession became more real with each passing second.

“Please don’t cry,” he murmured tenderly between kisses. “I’m here, I’ve got you. It’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.” Yeonjun’s thumbs continuously wiped away your tears which only seemed to flow harder.

As your final night in Jeju Island came to an end, time seemed to stand still as the stars above witnessed your love. Unspoken words created a tension that lingered in the air. This transformative moment became a pivotal point in your relationship—both terrifying and exhilarating; only time will tell whether the outcome led to joy or heartbreak. The salt and sweet mingling on your lips as you shared a final kiss that night filled you with unease—the feeling haunted you as you drifted into a restless sleep, shadows of doubt weaving through your dreams.

IV || Love Is Like A Cigarette…Quick To Burn Out ٠ ࣪⭑ˎˊ˗

Autumn felt colder than before—her reappearance felt like a mockery, a reminder of what once was. You found yourselves intertwined beneath the covers each night—his warmth, a bittersweet testimony to the love that still lingered as you slowly felt yourself slipping away. The fragility of each shared breath hung in the air like a whispered secret—an unspoken acknowledgment of the growing distance.

As you lay beside Yeonjun, the shadowy hands of doubt made their return, pleased to reacquaint themselves with you—finding their way back around your neck, tightening their grip, reminding you of why your fears lingered.

“Please. Don’t look at me like you,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“Like what?” he asked softly.

“Like you want to kiss me,” you replied, averting your eyes as tears welled up in your eyes.

Yeonjun reached out, his hand brushing against yours sent shivers down your spine. Hurt flashed across his face as you flinched at his touch. “Please,” you begged, “just…don't kiss me.” As you cried yourself to sleep, Yeonjun held you tenderly—whispering sweet words of reassurance, hoping to alleviate your fears.

Ever since the confession, your dependency on cigarettes seemed to increase tenfold—unable to let go of your source of divine relief. Each inhale felt like a desperate attempt to fill the void inside you while each exhale felt like a mocking reminder of the scars Josh had left behind.

Josh's cycle of abuse was an intricate web of manipulation, woven with such precision that it left you trapped and helpless. It started slow; he first reeled you in with a whirlwind of affection—his words and actions sweet, leaving you feeling intoxicated, invigorated, desperately wanting more. But as he ensnared you in his tapestry of lies, his personality shifted. The once sweet Josh became your worst nightmare; berating you, blaming you for the way your life turned out. His sweet words turned into knives, leaving deep cuts in you that left you questioning your worth.

Every time he claimed you as his own, it felt like a twisted blend of passion and possession—the once intimate moments morphed into something darker. Each caress, a reminder that your body was his, only meant to fuel his desires. The aftermath always left you hollow, like a mere shell of your former self—your body desperately begging to be free.

At those times, he became withdrawn, leaving you to pick up your broken pieces—his warmth replaced by a chilling cold, one that settled in the corners of your mind. Inevitably, he would return, charming as he once was, offering a tender-hearted apology and sweet lies, pulling you back into the same destructive cycle. Each time you forgave him, you hoped for change, only to find yourself more deeply entangled in your ultimate demise.

Despite severing your ties, the cycle continued to haunt the forefront of your mind. As you closed your eyes each night, you relived the haunting memories of your past—sleep becoming a battleground of destruction. As the nightmares faded and reality embraced you—you found Yeonjun lying beside you, his concerned gaze meeting yours as tears fell from your eyes. You sank deeper into him, whispering that you were okay, desperately hoping that would be the case.

Yeonjun didn’t know what to do—he was at a standstill in his life, unable to make his next decision. Ever since you returned from your trip to Jeju Island, things had shifted. It started small, with the way you avoided his gaze, a subtle action that tore his soul apart. Then it transitioned to you avoiding his kisses, something Yeonjun never expected. His breaking point came when he noticed how you flinched at his touch and cried in your sleep—holding onto him as if you were afraid he'd disappear. Yeonjun loved you, but he feared this arrangement was now hurting you both more than it should.

Yeonjun stood outside Soobin’s room, riddled with anxiety as he contemplated the conversation he was about to have. He wanted to ask Beomgyu for advice, but he decided against it, thinking it was unfair to put him in such a position.

Taking a deep breath, he steadied himself before softly knocking in the door. “Hey, Soobin. Can I come in?” he called out.

“Yeah!” Soobin replied, his tone light.

As Yeonjun entered, he saw Soobin sprawled out on his bed, phone in hand.

“Are you okay?” he asked as he sat up, “You look like you have a lot on your mind.”

Smiling sheepishly, Yeonjun rubbed the back of his neck. “It's about Blossom, actually.”

Soobin sat up a bit straighter, his expression shifted to one of concern. “Is everything okay? Did something happen?”

“Remember when we took that trip to Jeju in the Summer?” Yeonjun asked.

Soobin nodded slowly in understanding. “Yeah…you guys had a wonderful time, right?”

Nodding, Yeonjun continued, “Yeah, but I sort of confessed to her?”

A deadpan expression formed on Soobin's face. “You…confessed. Aren't you dating her?”

Yeonjun felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him. “Well…no, we're not.”

Soobin's eyes widened in shock. “Wait, what? You two were kissing in our kitchen last winter and you aren't dating?”

“Yeah,” Yeonjun responded, running his hands through his hair in frustration. “We just had an arrangement. No strings attached.”

Looking more shocked than before Soobin says, “Why don't you explain everything to me? From the beginning.”

Yeonjun recounted to Soobin the story of his entanglement with you, from your first meeting to the night you slept together, detailing every moment that led up to this one.

“Honestly,” Soobin started, “I think it's best you step back. For both your sakes. It's clearly taking a toll on you both and it isn't worth it that you both are hurting in your own way. You love each other, anyone would be stupid enough to think otherwise. I know she hasn't said it, but she looks at you with so much love, Yeonjun.” Clearing his throat he continued, “Just give her the space to work things out on her own. It will hurt, but she'll come back to you once she's gathered her thoughts. She's clearly going through something deeper, so have some patience with her, yeah?”

With a nod, Yeonjun hugged Soobin, grateful for having a friend like him during times like this. This newfound perspective guided Yeonjun on the path he had to take—he didn't want to, but if it meant you slowly got to heal from your unspoken trauma, he would do anything to save you from that.

The cool evening air wrapped around you as you sat on the balcony of your room—with a cigarette in hand you're listening to Beomgyu beside you, his eyes full of worry as he talked to you. You saw his lips moving, eyebrows furrowed yet you couldn't hear him—it was as if you and your body were disconnected.

The world around you felt blurred, the once vibrant colours, fading into a muted palette. It felt as if you were a spectator in your own life, watching the scene unfold, nodding absently to Beomgyu. As you inhaled the last remnants of your cigarette, you felt yourself fading back into reality.

“...And I'm just worried about you, Petal. These days you don't seem like you're present in reality. I just want you to talk to me, please. I just want to help you,” Beomgyu said as he ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “I can't lose my best friend. Not again,” he added softly.

You watched Beomgyu with sad eyes, feeling the weight of his concern. “I'm sorry, Cookie. I…I don't know where to start. I'm sorry.”

“It's okay. Just tell me what happened,” he urged, his voice quivering, “you've been smoking so much more lately. I'm worried.”

“Yeonjun confessed,” you said, biting your lips. “During our last night in Jeju, and it kind of just freaked me out? Ever since Josh happened six years ago, I just don't feel worthy?”

Beomgyu looked at you earnestly, his steady gaze urging you to continue. “It's just that, my mind convinces me that I'm destined to be in a perpetual cycle of abuse and…” Your voice breaks, tears welled in your eyes, “...And I don't think I'm deserving of the love Yeonjun’s willing to give.” Wiping your eyes, you continued, “Ever since the nightmares resurfaced, I keep seeing his face and reliving moments and it scares me. I'm terrified of slipping back into that space.”

Beomgyu’s expression softened, “I get that, Petal. But hanging onto the past isn't going to help you or Yeonjun. You both will get hurt in the end. You need to let it go.”

“I'm scared, Gyu. Not of letting go but facing what comes after.”

Beomgyu rested a reassuring hand on your shoulder, “We’ll be here to support you, you know that, Petal. It'll be okay,” he smiled softly. “Just give yourself some space and gather your thoughts. Then talk to him, shutting him out won't help either of you. He loves you, he'll understand and want to help.”

You sighed softly as the weight of his words settled in your heart. “Okay,” you whispered, “time to let go.”

The weather was overcast, almost as if it mirrored your mood, or was mocking you—either way, you didn't like the feeling. Yeonjun asked to meet you at your apartment that day and it filled you with dread. It wasn't like his usual messages or spontaneous visits—this felt different, as if the air was thick with an impending change.

To ease your nerves while you waited for Yeonjun, you smoked three cigarettes, each one making you feel worse than the last. Nothing seemed to help extinguish the turmoil inside you.

As you contemplated lighting another, the doorbell rang, disrupting your spiralling thoughts. Your heart raced, anticipation and dread coursing through your veins as you prepared yourself to open the door.

Opening it, you found Yeonjun standing there but unlike his usual lively appearance, today, he looked exhausted—the dark circles under slightly bloodshot eyes were evidence that he hadn't been sleeping well—the sight made your heart ache.

Closing the door behind you, you glanced at Yeonjun again with sorrowful eyes. “Yeonjun…are you okay?” you asked, your voice, barely above a whisper, fear knotting in your stomach at the thought of his answer.

“I'm sorry,” he began, his voice heavy with emotion, “I don't think this arrangement can continue. I'm too in love with you and too selfish.” Yeonjun paused, running his hands through his hair in frustration, “I desperately want more, and I don't want to ask you for more than you're willing to give.”

As the rain began to fall softly, each drop mirrored the emotions swirling between you in this very moment. Yeonjun stepped closer, his eyes searching yours, filled with a mix of heartbreak and desperation.

“Just this once,” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the patter of the rain, “I know you've been avoiding kissing me lately, but just this once,” he begged, his voice breaking, “let me kiss you one last time before I end this.”

The desperation in Yeonjun’s voice is evident—it broke you knowing that you're the one that caused him to be like this. Despite your hesitation and racing heart, the weight of his words pulled you in. As he leaned in, the world around you faded into nothingness—the final kiss is sweet and sorrowful, mixed with desperation, the moment feeling suspended in time. As the rain begins to fall harder, your clothes become soaked but the warmth from Yeonjun lips makes the chill forgettable.

The kiss deepened, hot and cold, salty and sweet; mixing with your tears and his—as his hands cradled your face gently, his thumb brushing away your stray tears that mixed with the incoming raindrops.

“Please,” he murmured against your lips, saying your name softly, “just let me have this.”

The urgency in his voice spoke volumes, all his unspoken feelings poured out into this single moment. Pulling you closer, as a final desperate grasp, the world around you seemed to blur further, the rain, swaddling you, shielding you from everything else.

As you both pulled away, tears streamed down your faces—breathless and trembling, the reality of the situation crashed in. The sheer vulnerability in his eyes broke you more than you had hope. It almost felt as if his gaze mirrored your own pain.

“Yeonjun I—”

“Don't,” he interrupted softly, almost begging. He placed his forehead against yours, “Just let me be selfish one last time.”

With a final kiss, Yeonjun wiped your remaining tears, whispered an “I love you” and made his way to his car, where he left you, standing in the rain.

Everything then came crashing down on you as he left. You felt your strength fade away, suddenly you're on the floor—glancing at Yeonjun’s figure became smaller as he drove away. The feeling of his lips haunting you as you began to sob uncontrollably. You knew it was your fault the things turned out this way, unable to give him more. Yeonjun made the decision for you, preventing the inevitable. It shouldn't hurt, since it was something you needed; it shouldn't feel like this—but you couldn't help it since you were so utterly in love with Choi Yeonjun.

Going back into the apartment you felt numb, like a piece of you left with Yeonjun. Part of you knew this was necessary, best for both parties—yet a small part of you hoped to stay in your current arrangement, ignoring the unspoken feelings. Beomgyu looked at you as you entered the living room, shocked at your appearance—soaked, with tears streaming down your face.

“Are you okay? What happened?” He asked as he fetched a towel, gently drying your hair, then wrapping it around you.

“It's Yeonjun,” you mumbled quietly, your tears slowly subsiding. “He ended the arrangement. Which is fine, I just didn't expect it to hurt so much.”

Beomgyu looked at you with empathy, “I know it hurts, but you knew you needed this. It's okay to feel sad about it. You loved him even if you didn't say it out loud.”

“Yeah…I do love him” you admitted quietly, “I think I want to start therapy. I want to get better—not just for myself, but for Yeonjun as well. Once I get through the beginning of that journey, I'll reach out to him again.”

“That's more like it, Petal,” Beomgyu encouraged softly, “Let's get you upstairs and I'll run you a warm bath, yeah?”

Despite the heartbreaking moment, you understood what had to be done. Now, it was time to embark on your journey of letting go—letting go of the past that haunted you and embracing the present. You knew it would be hard initially, but you were determined to be better, determined to reclaim the life you once lost.

For once in his life, Yeonjun absolutely hated himself. He knew he should feel relief—relief that he let you go, not because he wanted to but because he needed to. Yet still, there seemed to be a you-shaped hole in his chest, which had a hollowness more profound than any heartbreak he ever felt. The void reeked of you, memories of your laughter, your warmth, your presence—now replaced by an unbearable silence that was almost deafening.

After what felt like forever, Yeonjun stopped at the park near his apartment—today it was quiet, usually filled with the laughter of innocent children—the air remained still, deadly still. As the sun began to set, the park felt tranquil, almost as if it empathized with him. With the rain finally passing, the orange and red hues adorn the sky and even in this moment, Yeonjun’s first thought was you—he thought you'd love the sight before him, your eyes would light up in delight, wanting to take a picture to savour the moment.

As if his body moved on autopilot, Yeonjun walked to the nearest convenience store. In front of him was a cigarette display with various brands—unconsciously he picked up your favourite brand and a lighter, paying for them and settling on some swings within the park. Yeonjun didn't smoke often, but in this moment, he craved some kind of proximity with you, something to keep him grounded, something to fill the hollow feeling inside.

As Yeonjun lit the cigarette, the flame flickered in the dimming light, taking a drag, the smoke filled his lungs—the warmth contrasting the chill air as the evening came.

Momentarily, the hollowness receded, but as he exhaled, the feeling rushed back in, somehow worse than before. With each drag, Yeonjun felt more reminiscent than before. He recalled the moments during the arrangement, the way you mentioned that you liked having a black coffee, a croissant and a cigarette for breakfast—something about wanting to feel like a girl in Paris. He chuckled sadly at the memory, even though in the moment he was stressed about your lack of a nutritionally balanced breakfast.

He remembered the way your body felt against his, how every intimate moment you shared felt like matching puzzle pieces, your body immediately reacted to him as if you were made for each other. He recalled the way you looked at him, with so much love shining in your eyes, and the way you kissed him as if each one might be your last.

“Why did it have to be this way?” he whispered, the only response being the wind rustling through the leaves. A bitter chuckle escaped him as he took another drag, “God,” he sighed, “I love you so much. I wish I didn't have to do it, but I couldn't just have an arrangement with you anymore.” Yeonjun continued, speaking to the universe, hoping that somehow you could hear him in the confines of your apartment.

With a final drag, the smoke swirled around him, flickering the ash from his cigarette—he watched it fall to the ground, like the remnants of your relationship. Despite the emptiness of the park, memories of your time together lingered in the air, haunting him.

Leaving the pack of cigarettes on the swing, Yeonjun made his way to his car, the weight of your absence more present than before. As he drove back to his apartment, he knew the hole you left would take time to heal, but for right now, he listened to the playlist you made together, living through the moments for one last time as familiar melodies washed over him, each note a bitter reminder of what once was.

Arriving home, Yeonjun felt a lingering sadness. The decision to give you space weighed heavily on his heart. Remembering the way you cried those nights haunted him, the sound of your sobs as you held onto him were heartbreaking. He knew you needed space to sort out the problems you haven't mentioned even if you didn't openly admit it. He loved you and this was the only thing he thought of doing to help you.

“Soobin,” Yeonjun began, his voice low, “I finally let her go.” The admission lifted a weight off his shoulders, but the pain still lingered. “It hurts more than I expected.”

“It's normal to feel that way,” Soobin reassured him. “You love her and giving her the space is best for both of you. She'll come back when she's ready, I know it.”

Yeonjun nodded, consoled by the idea that you would come back, better than you did before.

As quick as Autumn came, so did she leave—leaving behind soon-to-be distant memories, each day served as a reminder of what was lost. With the days getting shorter and the nights growing colder, Yeonjun hoped you were on the path to a better place—like the changing seasons he hoped you were becoming stronger, no longer a slave to your haunting past.

V || Ashes and Second Chances ٠ ࣪⭑ˎˊ˗

The first snow of Winter came quietly in the beginning of December—unlike her previous arrivals, this year her snow quietly blanketed the Earth like a mother nursing her child. You haven't spoken to Yeonjun since your last conversation two months ago but sometimes he sent you messages encouraging you to eat and take care of yourself. You didn't have the heart to respond just yet, but his messages filled you with hope. It felt nice knowing that he still cared even though you weren't on speaking terms—each message a reminder that the bond was still there, despite the distance.

You started therapy the same week Yeonjun left, a daunting but necessary decision. The first few sessions of therapy felt suffocating at first—almost as if you were scared to admit what was wrong. But once you got over that hurdle, things became easier—your therapist encouraged you to confront your past so that you could take a hold of your future.

Within that safe space of the therapy room, you were taught ways to cope with the cycle of manipulation you had gone through without relying on your cigarettes. As the ties to your past slowly became severed, you developed a love for painting. Each brushstroke became a form of expression for the words you were unable to convey.

As winter settled in, you felt a growing pain to properly move on from your past—a persistent discomfort that gnawed at you.

Thus, you found yourself at a gravesite during the harsh Daegu winter, determined to make amends. Your first visit was to your brother—you hadn't visited his grave when you returned to Daegu last summer, so you decided to have a conversation with him, sharing your journey.

The cemetery was serene, the snowflakes danced around you as you walked toward a familiar headstone. Sitting down in front of the grave, you placed a bouquet of blue forget-me-nots.

“Hey, big brother,” you whispered quietly. “I miss you. I'm sorry I didn't visit you last Summer.” You took a breath, feeling the weight of your emotions. “I've been trying to get better. I started therapy and I'm learning to cope with everything,” You smiled sadly and continued, “I broke up with Josh too, I know how much you hated him when we first started dating back then. I'm sorry, I should've listened to you.” You recalled all the memories you spent with Yeonjun, “I met someone new,” you laughed quietly, “you would've loved him. He's special to me but I messed up.” Tears began to fall from your eyes, “I promised myself to quit smoking too. It's been hard going through the withdrawals, but I'm getting better.” You took a moment to collect yourself, wiping the tears that fell, “I promise to be better—not just for myself, but for Yeonjun too. I want to be someone he can be proud of, someone who can love without fear.”

Standing up, you took one last look at the grave, “I miss you so much and I wish you were here. I promise to be better so you can be proud of your little sister, okay? I love you.”

You walked away from your brother's grave feeling a sense of warmth filled you as if a weight had been lifted, but there was one more conversation you had to have—one that had been long overdue.

As you stood in front of Josh's grave you no longer felt anxiety and fear washing over only that of anger. You took a deep breath, allowing the cold air to fill your lungs, “You took so much from me,” you began, voice rising slowly. “You took my sense of self and trust. You made me feel like I was never good enough and I let you. I let you control me for so long even when you're dead and gone and I'm done.”

Gently, you rested a bouquet of black roses at the base of the headstone. “I'm here to say my final goodbye. I'm here to reclaim my life.” You take out your last cigarette from the pack, now, a symbol of your past, placing it on the grave as a final offering. “This is my last one. You loved it when I smoked but I'm no longer letting any aspect of you take control over me.” With a steady voice, you declared, “I'm letting this go and I'm letting you go too. I hope you know how much I hate you.”

As you walked away you felt lighter, relieved that it was over, but also relieved that the shackles of your past no longer had a hold on you. The cold Winter now felt like a moment of transformation—as you made your way back to Seoul, hope filled you as you were ready to embrace the life you were finally reclaiming.

Winter felt colder to Yeonjun this year—the lack of your warm presence beside him became a constant reminder of the void that settled in his heart. Despite the ache, he knew it was for the betterment of your relationship. Occasionally, he sent you a message, a word or two of encouragement—a part of him hoped you would respond. He was thankful that Beomgyu always gave him an update on your wellbeing, letting him know you were getting the help you needed.

During your time apart, Yeonjun found himself visiting places you had been together. One morning he visited the greenhouse before he went to the café, admiring the way you always took care of the flowers there. He saw the sunflowers and plum blossoms next to each other in bloom and stared at them in wonder—recalling the day you decided to place them together, cutely saying, “They're us,” as you smiled softly at him. From that moment on, your relationship blossomed with every waking moment you spent together.

At the café you frequented together, he had a croissant and coffee, another attempt at feeling closer to you. The combination of the bitter coffee and flaky pastry only served to be another painful reminder of the laughs you shared over breakfast—the way you would lean across the table, your eyes bright with excitement as you stole a strawberry from his plate. Yeonjun missed those days dearly.

In the middle of winter, Yeonjun found himself staring at the night sky, watching the constellations of Perseus and Andromeda together. He remembered that night all too well, the way you pointed Andromeda out, the way your eyes filled with wonder as he recalled the story. Yeonjun fell in love with you that night—from that moment on he knew he would fight for you in every lifetime.

He wondered if you were okay—praying to the gods above that your past would no longer haunt you and you could finally take control of your life. The memories, although painful at times, had a comforting warmth that contrasted the stillness of Winter leaving Yeonjun holding onto faith—faith that your relationship would be okay, like the changing seasons, your love had the power to endure and flourish even in the harshest of winters.

Ever since you visited Daegu weeks ago, life has felt brighter—for once you felt like you were able to breathe on your own without any shadows or voices tormenting you.

Sometimes the nightmares still lingered, but they occurred less frequently than they did before—something you were absolutely grateful for. Therapy had been beneficial as well; after understanding how your abuse affected you, the road to recovery wasn't a terrible journey.

Your sobriety journey from nicotine was a different story. Aside from the typical cravings after withdrawals, the increased irritability and insomnia you faced stressed you out. After Mrs. Kim, your therapist recommended Nicotine Anonymous (NicA), things became easier, especially since Beomgyu came with you, providing you with the extra support that you needed. The meetings made you feel seen as people understood your struggles while Beomgyu’s reassuring presence reminded you that you weren't alone.

With the festive season approaching, you felt a growing desire to reach out to Yeonjun—to give him the explanation that he deserved and to apologize for the distance that had grown between you. You decided to get him a special gift—something that signified the moments you shared and what he meant to you.

A chain, adorned with both of your birthstones along with a painting you did of your time together in Jeju. A landscape painting of the day you spent on Biyangdo Island—on top of its peak, both of you smiling as with the surrounding ocean and nearby islands in the background—truly one of your happiest days there.

You knew Yeonjun would've been alone again this Christmas. Not wanting him to spend it alone, you gathered your courage and with a bouquet of apology flowers and his gifts, you made your way to his apartment.

As you stood in front of his apartment you took a deep breath, reminding yourself of the progress you had made. You were no longer living in the past, letting a gripping fear dictate your actions—now you lived in the present, ready to embrace what life had to offer. With the gifts tucked under your arm, you quietly knocked on the door, heart racing, hoping that this would be the beginning of a new chapter for both of you—one filled with promise of brighter days ahead.

As Christmas approached, the world around Yeonjun transformed into a wonderful winter wonderland. Yet, despite the festive atmosphere, a heaviness settled in Yeonjun's heart as he yearned for you, hoping that somehow, he was granted a Christmas miracle, and you would greet him at his door.

Despite not knowing when you would talk again, Yeonjun wrote letters for you, one for each season since you've met, each detailing the different ways he fell deeper in love with you—testament to the memories you shared, little things about you that made you unique.

Alongside the letters, Yeonjun made a homemade scrapbook, each page filled with photos you took together and surprise ones he took just of you—each with a little note highlighting his favourite thing from that memory. He included snapshots of places you had visited, menus from your favourite restaurant and even pressed flowers that reminded him of you. Each page was adorned with quotes and song lyrics that reminded of you—their words encapsulating the love he had for you.

His doorbell rang Christmas morning, his heart raced as he prayed it was you and when he finally opened the door Yeonjun smiled, his heart racing—there you are standing, in all your glory, looking brighter than before.

“Merry Christmas, Yeonjun,” you said as you smiled softly at him, “Can I come inside?”

As you stepped inside, Yeonjun embraced you tightly, “Merry Christmas, Blossom,” he murmured against your hair, his voice thick with emotion, “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too, Yeonjun,” you said lightly as you laughed, hugging him back tightly as the familiar scent of his cologne enveloped you, a scent you missed. “I’m sorry it took me so long to come back.”

Yeonjun pulled away, his expression serious, “You don’t have to apologize, Sweetheart. How has everything been going?”

Taking a deep breath, you gave Yeonjun the apology flowers, feeling the weight of your past for a moment, “It was hard at first. To let go. But therapy helped me confront my past and it no longer haunts me. Now, I've started to understand how it shaped me, and I’ve finally taken control of my life.” As you explained to him the details of your last relationship and how it left you, Yeonjun’s fists tightened, angry at the idea that you've been through something like that.

“I’m proud of you,” he said softly as he cupped your cheek, “It takes a lot of courage to go through that and still face the past. You’re stronger than you think.”

You continued to give him details of your therapy sessions, your new love for painting and even mention how your NicA sessions helped with your sobriety.

“Thank you for being patient with me. For letting me go when you did, it really helped push me towards the right direction.”

“Always,” he promised, his thumb brushing gently against your skin. “I'll always fight for you.”

“I actually got you some presents,” you said with a shy smile, gesturing to the gifts you brought with you.

Yeonjun's eyes lit up, “I got you some presents too! Let me get them then we can exchange gifts.”

As you sat together, Yeonjun slowly unwrapped your presents. His eyes shining as he admired the chain you got him.

“A reminder that we’re always together, even if we are physically apart,” you said, shyly.

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss on your cheek, “I love it, Blossom,” he said with adoration as he put on the chain. “I'll cherish it forever.” As Yeonjun unwrapped your second gift he gasps, looking at you in shock. “You painted this?!” he exclaimed in amazement.

“Yeah!” you say excitedly, matching his energy. “Once I realized my love for painting, I was determined to paint one of my favourite moments.”

“It's beautiful,” Yeonjun said softly, “It’s definitely getting framed and hanging up in my room.”

The atmosphere that surrounded you both was light—the soft glow of the Christmas lights illuminating the room left you feeling excited and nervous as Yeonjun handed you his gifts.

As you pulled out the stack of letters, your heart swelled—each letter adorned with a different seasonal motif. With trembling fingers, you read each letter, tears welled in your eyes—with each season since you've met, Yeonjun highlights the moments in which he fell deeper in love with you. From your laughter in the spring to the warmth of your hand in his during the summer nights—to the cozy moments together in autumn and the quiet times during the winter evenings, each highlighted moment cherishing every little thing about you.

“Yeonjun…” Your voice broke. “I can't believe you wrote all this for me. These are incredible.”

He smiled softly, his eyes shining with warmth, “I wanted you to know how much you mean to me. With every season I felt more hopelessly in love with you.”

As you set the letters aside, you turned your attention to the scrapbook—each page was a beautiful collage of your time together, from photos of you laughing to menus from your favourite restaurant, each page was filled with Yeonjun’s thoughts and even more things we loved about you.

“I didn't even know you took some of these,” you laughed softly as you flipped through the scrapbook.

“I wanted you to see yourself from my eyes.” Yeonjun said softly, wiping the tears that fell from your eyes, “To understand just how beautiful you are, not just on the outside, but also in the way you radiate kindness and strength, lighting up the darkest days. You’re incredible, Blossom.”

The weight of Yeonjun’s words hung in the air, his hands still against your cheeks—gazing at you with unconditional love.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked softly, his voice filled with longing and tenderness.

With a racing heart, you nodded. As he closed the distance between you, the sweet kiss transcends the heavens, filled with all the love and longing that had built up over the time apart—you both savoured the moment, tasting the sweetness of reunion after so much uncertainty.

Your hands find their way to the back of his neck, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss—reality dimming, leaving you two, suspended in a perfect moment. As you pulled away, you're both breathless and smiling. “Yeonjun,” you began, your heart pounding loudly in your ears. “There's something I need to tell you.”

He looked at you, eyes twinkling with curiosity, “What is it?”

“I love you, Yeonjun.” you said proudly, “I’ve loved you for a long time, and I just needed you to know.”

With a radiant smile on his face, Yeonjun laughs softly, “I love you too, Blossom. More than I can express.”

As Yeonjun kissed you, his warmth enveloped you, reminding you that relationships are like the changing seasons—despite the warmth they bring, they often have the coldest winters. Just as flowers bloom in spring after enduring harsh conditions, so does love flourish after facing trials and tribulations, growing stronger and more vibrant with each passing season.

Together, you and Yeonjun would be okay—with each season, you would endure what came, hand in hand, knowing that your love had the power to conquer all storms and shine through even the darkest of days.

Epilogue || Seasons of Us ٠ ࣪⭑ˎˊ˗

It's been a year since that fateful kiss, and as Spring returned, Yeonjun was once again reminded of you. With your past no longer haunting you, he had watched you blossom to your full potential, radiating like a Plum Blossom in full bloom—your vibrant spirit surrounding the atmosphere in all its glory. He marvels at the way you've fully embraced life, proud that you have surpassed your struggles.

The seasons, once a memory of Yeonjun’s entanglement with you, has now transformed into cherished memories of your time together. Now, he's able to hold you the same under the morning gaze—no longer stuck in limbo, Yeonjun is now able to live the rest of his life with you. The last year has been transformative for you both—having graduated and moved in together, you and Yeonjun were now ready to embark on another part of your journey.

Together, you stepped into the world, eager to embrace every moment, every season and every challenge that came your way. Together, you would continue to bloom.

Taglist.ᐟ – @yunverie, @filmnings, @yeonjunnnielover, @just-nc-tea, @iluvjjunie, @fancypeacepersona, @usuallyunlikelyfox, @bunniwords, @lostgirlyystuff, @beomgyusluver, @beaabz

adeline's closing ✉ - if you've made it to the end, I thank you for reading!! I'd also love to know which moment was your favourite, I'd love to hear your thoughts :] mine was the kiss in the rain!

#izzy reblogs ✶⋆.˚

287 notes · View notes

izzyy-recs · 4 days ago

Text

rating my ex boyfriends smau | Ni-kis ver

niki x !r ( ≧ᗜ≦) crack, tweets ──────✿ ❕ ex Niki , this is verymuch unserious, little bit of fluff but mostly goofy asf nainai’s regular library nainais texts library

THEIR RESPONSES

an: the is the end of this little miniseries guys, hope you guys enjoyed this silly little smau

SERIES TAGLIST : @hollxe1 @amatariki @minfolio @luv-rizzimura @doririsstuff @arimmortel @lovenha7 @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @iichuuo @yunjiiin @enhagenes @enhawonnie @1-itsneverthatserious-1

PERM TAGLIST: (entire taglist is updated, to be readded to the permanent taglist please fill out this form) @kimuranirisi @bbangbies @nishimura-mimura @deaddcrow @annybah @iarainha @sol3chu @addictedtohobi @heartheejake @gweoriz @wonzzziezzzz @dazeymazey11

#izzy reblogs ✶⋆.˚

697 notes · View notes

izzyy-recs · 4 days ago

Text

my bfffff

rating my ex boyfriends smau | Jakes ver

Jake x !r ( ≧ᗜ≦) crack, tweets ──────✿ ❕ ex jake , this is verymuch unserious, little bit of fluff but mostly goofy asf nainai’s regular library nainais texts library

THEIR RESPONSES

SERIES TAGLIST : @hollxe1 @amatariki @minfolio @luv-rizzimura @doririsstuff @arimmortel @lovenha7 @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @iichuuo @yunjiiin @enhagenes @enhawonnie @1-itsneverthatserious-1

#izzy reblogs ✶⋆.˚

590 notes · View notes

izzyy-recs · 4 days ago

Text

rating my ex boyfriends smau | Heeseungs ver

Heeseung x !r ( ≧ᗜ≦) fcrack, tweets ──────✿ ❕ ex heeseung, this is verymuch unserious, little bit of fluff but mostly goofy asf nainai’s regular library. nainais texts library

a/n: typo on slide 7 was meant to say “food” not “good” sorry besties . Anyways other members dropping maybe tomorrow??

PERM TAGLIST: (entire taglist is updated, to be readded to the permanent taglist please fill out this form) @butterflywonz @sol3chu @nithxhoon @iichuuo @letmein2urheart @hollxe1 @tinyteezer @jkslvsnella @i03jae @sunooqvrlsx @addictedtohobi @firstclassjaylee @riribelle @ivyvioletcarson @academiq @bubblytaetae @pkjay @papichulomacy @50-husbands @heartheejake @gweoriz @annybah @iarainha @nishimura-mimura

#izzy reblogs ✶⋆.˚

787 notes · View notes

izzyy-recs · 4 days ago

Note

dude this is no joke, im obsessed with down bad loser jake adgaldgk

not sure if you’re taking requests !! but if you are, on my knees 🧎🏻‍♀️and here to kindly request a drunk no doubt! Jake who is a PEAK LOVEY DOVEY DRUNK when he gets home (or refuses to leave unless yn is picking his ass up lol) 🫶🏼

HIII ugh one of my og jakeyn lovers i appreciate u so so so much & all ur comments & love ALWAYS <3333 and YES OH MY GOD i can totally imagine it rn DRUNK JAKE WOULD BE SO CLINGY AND SO CHEESY AND LOVEY DOVEY IM GONNA BE SICK. also this one ended up being longer than my usual requested drabbles WHOOPS SORRY I JUST LOVE SIMP JAKE UGH 😫

──── MY ANGEL, MY UBER, MY EVERYTHING.🍸🍋🌿 ↳ requested // part of the no doubt series !

You hear it first before your eyes even open.

A loud buzz, obnoxiously close to your head. You groan, your arm flailing out from under the comforter to mute your phone off and go back to sleep.

And not even three seconds later—

Buzz. Buzz.

You groan into your pillow.

One eye cracks open just enough to glance at the screen:

jungwon👯

Yeah.

This can't be good.

You answer with a sleepy grumble, "What."

"Heyyyy Y/N," Jungwon says, way too chipper and lively for your liking at this hour. "Sooo...you might wanna come pick up your boyfriend."

You blink slowly, brain still foggy with sleep.

"Huh."

"Jake's, um. Very drunk. And refusing to leave unless it's with you."

You stare at the ceiling above, deadpan, "You're joking."

"I wish," Jungwon sighs, sounding both amused and exasperated at the same time. "We tried everythin—"

A crash. A muffled ow. Some rustling. Then—

"WAIT—ARE YOU TALKING TO Y/N?"

Jungwon groans. "Jake—no, don't—hey, Jake, that's my—dude, give me my ph—JAKE—"

"BABY."

Jake's voice explodes through the speaker.

"BABY I NEED YOU. PLEASE."

You blink at your phone, now fully awake. And fully amused.

"Jake—"

"They're trying to make me go home to the dorm," he slurs dramatically. "Like—to my own room. Alone. WITHOUT YOU."

"Jake, you live with me," you giggle, already climbing out of bed and reaching for your hoodie. "You'll be fine."

"NO. I won't. I wanna be in our bed. With my girl. Smelling like your vanilla shampoo and on your comfy silk sheets. Please. It's a basic human right."

You're full-on giggling now, navigating through your dark room for your keys, because—

Unfortunately, you're in love with him and will do anything for this poor guy.

"I'm coming, I'm coming. Just hang tight and give Jungwon his phone back okay?"

Twenty minutes later, you're outside the bar Jungwon texted you the address to.

And then you see him.

Slumped against the wall, tie crooked, shirt loosened, hair falling over his forehead. His eyes are glassy and pink-tinted, cheeks flushed, ears red.

Sunghoon stands next to him, one arm outstretched to keep Jake upright, while Jay's trying to press a water bottle into his lips.

Then—

Jake looks up.

"BABY!!!"

He launches off the wall. Slightly pushes Sunghoon and Jay off. Trips over his own feet. Nearly collapses straight into you.

"Oh my god, Jake," you're giggling, catching him as he immediately melts into you, burying his face into your shoulder.

He smells like beer and cologne and Jake—his entire body warm and heavy as he wraps himself around you.

"You're here," he mumbles into your hoodie, relieved. "I told them. I told them you'd be here. Said my girl's gonna come for me. She always comes for me."

You glance over his shoulder. Sunghoon looks three seconds away from joining Heeseung, slumped on the sidewalk. Jay's already walking away.

"What happened to this being a wholesome group dinner outing?" you ask dryly, lifting a brow as you still try to stay balanced under Jake's full body weight wrapped around you.

"Don't blame me," Jungwon shrugs, wide-eyed. "Not my fault your boyfriend's a lightweight."

And you can't even argue with that.

Given your current position.

You're convinced Jake fell asleep like this. Standing up. Hugging you.

"Okay, okay. Let's get you home," you say, amused as you wave bye to the rest of the guys and steer your mess of a boyfriend towards your car.

The drive back isn't any better.

Jake refuses to let go to you.

One hand wrapped around your arm. The other holding your hand that isn't on the wheel. Body stretched over the console. Head on your shoulder, a sleepy smile playing at his lips as the smell of alcohol still lingers on him.

"You're so pretty," he murmurs, nose brushing your neck. "Like, so pretty. That's why I call you my pretty. You're the prettiest thing I've ever seen. I'm gonna marry you."

You keep your eyes on the road, but you laugh softly, trying to keep up with his mumbled words, "You say that every time you're drunk, Jakey."

"And I mean it ever time I'm drunk," he pulls back just enough to look at you with a serious look, but it's more like a pout. "And sober. Drunk me. Sober me. Future me. Past me. I love you. Love you so much. You're my angel. My Uber. My everything. My—my forever girl."

You burst out in giggles, "Your Uber?"

"Yeah," he nods, grinning at your reaction. "You picked me up. Best Uber ever. And your car always smells good. Like peaches. Five stars. Infinite stars."

By the time you drag him into the apartment and finally in bed, he's still clinging onto you, professing his love endlessly between hiccups and yawns.

"Pretty," he whispers, his nose nuzzling into your hair, breath warm against your skin. "M'gonna marry you. You know that right? You know I love you? So perfect. My girl."

And you're a goner. Completely wrecked.

"I know, Jakey," you smile, stroking his hair as his breathing slows. "I know."

And you do.

Because drunk or not—Sim Jaeyun is the realest thing you've ever known.

And he means every word.

no doubt m. list

tag list! pt. 1 (open)

@bluxjun @ki2rins @why-did-i-just-do-this @favoritten @lovialymisc @xylatox @vivimura @leehsngs @puma-riki @lezzleeferguson-120 @enhaprettystars @laurradoesloveu @sievenderz @somuchdard @kristynaah @hinryh @ltfirecracker @lov4hoon @taeheexx @niyzu @chunkzdeluluwife @jakeflvrz @fangirl125reader @0429jw @dreamy-carat @yuons @thestarinstarbucks @miszes @llearlert @ppeachyttae @hoomin10 @teddybeartaetae @tanisha2060 @therealmrsbahng @beomgyu-bears @ikeulove @jiyeons-closet @youngheejay @wxnderingthoughts @fuevrois @soobundle1009 @isoobie @enhypenova @zoemeltigloos @lizdevorak @deluluscenarios @bloomiize @hasuyv @ijustwannareadstuff20 @veilstqr @dreamiestay @jakeyyyjakexoxo

#izzy reblogs ✶⋆.˚

322 notes · View notes

izzyy-recs · 4 days ago

Text

✧When an Enhypen member catches another jerking off to you ✦༺

𓂃✧This writing is my own; no copies, adaptations, or translations are allowed. I hope you like it. ✦ 3.7K words * Masterlist˚ Taglist₊‧ ✦𓂃

enhypen x reader ⚠️ CW : NSFW / +18 — rough sex, jealousy, voyeurism, possessive & dominant behavior, light choking, wall sex, public risk, filming, dirty talk, eye contact, light humiliation, masturbation (caught), third-party presence, intense kissing. Minors DNI. Read responsibly.

✧ Heeseung ----------

Heeseung walked toward Sunghoon’s room with total calm, like any other day. He just wanted to tell him to hurry up—it was time to leave. But before he could even knock on the door, he stopped.

A deep, rough, wet sound. Staggered breaths. Soft thumps against the mattress.

And he knew.

His first instinct was to laugh. The second, disgust. But what he didn’t expect… was rage.

Heeseung swung the door open.

Sunghoon straightened on the bed, startled. His phone slipped from his hand—and that hand, still wrapped around his cock, froze.

The silence was brutal. Until Heeseung looked down at the screen.. And saw it. A photo of you. Your body. Your face. Yours.

His jaw tightened. He grabbed the phone, the screen still glowing with the image Sunghoon had been using. Without a word, he deleted it. His finger trembled with fury.

He slowly turned toward him.

“Honestly? I feel like breaking your fucking face.”

Sunghoon didn’t speak. Didn’t move. He knew he’d fucked up.

But Heeseung didn’t lunge at him. Not yet. He walked over, slowly, phone still in hand, until he was standing right in front of him. His stare burned.

“You jerk off to my girl… and don’t even have the decency to hide it?”

“You’re that desperate you need to get off to her face right here?”

Sunghoon swallowed hard, still naked under the sheets.

“It wasn’t serious... just a picture—”

“Shut the fuck up.”

Heeseung leaned in and grabbed him by the collar, dragging him closer.

“Wanna know what she does when she cums? What she moans, what she begs for, what she swallows when she’s on her knees for me?”

He let go with a shove, knocking Sunghoon back onto the bed.

“You’ve got a picture. I’ve got her body screaming my name. And I’m not letting some bastard like you jerk off to that.”

Heeseung turned to leave, but paused at the door.

“Next time I catch you looking at her like that… I won’t delete the picture. I’ll smash your fucking face into the wall.”

And with trembling fingers, he slammed the door behind him.

…

Later that day, on his way to your place, a dark idea crossed Heeseung’s mind. When you opened the door, his face was already flushed with something dangerous. He stepped in, gently but with purpose, and lifted you into his arms, drawing a gasp from your lips.

“You’ve got a mission today, baby,” he growled with a wicked smile. “You’re gonna moan my name, real loud,for me.”

He set you down on the kitchen counter and pulled out his phone.

“Alright, sweetheart?”

He placed the phone to the side, voice memo already recording—right into Sunghoon’s chat.

Before you could react, his lips crashed onto yours, his hands roaming down your sides until they reached your panties. He yanked them off and tossed them somewhere across the kitchen.

He was rough, but not cruel—his fingers slid into you without warning, finding a steady rhythm. Moans poured out of you, his name echoing with each breathless cry. A satisfied smile curled on Heeseung’s lips.

“That’s my fucking good girl.”

His fingers moved faster, hitting spots you didn’t even know existed. By the time you came undone in his hand, the message had already been sent—Heeseung eager to picture the shame and fury on Sunghoon’s face.

But it took less than a minute to get a reply. And it broke Heeseung.

“Damn, Heeseung, our girl sounds so good. Thanks for the audio. I’ll put it to good use tonight.”

Heeseung nearly exploded.

“OUR girl? That motherfucker!”

His face flushed red with rage. You didn’t know how this would end, but one thing was clear: these two were either going to kill each other… or fuck.

And honestly, the second one sounded a whole lot more likely.

✧ Jay ----------

Your legs were still trembling on the bed, your whole body sensitive from what Jay had just done to you. He placed a soft kiss on your forehead while his hand gently caressed your thigh.

“I’m going to grab a towel to clean you up. Don’t move.”

You nodded silently, still breathless, your chest rising and falling in uneven waves. Jay walked calmly out of the room, but as he passed a half-open door in the hallway, he stopped.

There was a sound. Panting. And your name.

The voice was unmistakable. Jungwon was inside, gasping hard, your name slipping from his lips in broken sighs.

Jay froze. For a second, he couldn't believe it—but that was all the time he needed to understand. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and returned to the room without saying a word.

You looked at him, puzzled when he came back empty-handed.

“Everything okay?” you asked, sensing something in his expression.

Jay didn’t answer. Instead, he walked straight to the bed and took your legs in his hands, spreading them apart without warning. You shivered.

“No. Everything’s not okay.”

He leaned over you, his eyes burning with something fierce.

“You wanna know what I heard in the hallway?”

“Jungwon. Saying your name. While he jerked himself off.”

Your face went blank. You didn’t say anything, you couldn’t. But Jay didn’t seem to care.

“I’m going to make sure he hears this loud and fucking clear.”

He lowered himself between your thighs, not bothering with tenderness this time. His tongue was fierce—fast, focused, relentless. A loud moan escaped your lips before you could stop it.

Jay glanced up and muttered:

“That. That’s the sound I want.”

He climbed over you, flipped you onto your stomach with swift hands, and raised your hips until you were on all fours.

“You’re going to scream my name. So loud he’ll never dare think of you again.”

Without warning, he thrust into you hard, drawing a sharp cry from your lips. His rhythm was fast, intense, merciless.

“Say it. I want to hear it.”

“Jay… fuck, Jay…!”

“Louder.”

“JAY! It’s you, only you!”

He let out a low growl of satisfaction and drove into you harder, gripping your waist tight as the sound of skin against skin filled the room.

“That’s it. Let him hear it. Let him know who you belong to.”

His hands ran up your back, then tangled in your hair, pulling you slightly back.

“Are you still thinking about him?”

“Do you like that he’s listening?”

You couldn’t answer. The pleasure was overwhelming. Your body trembled with every thrust until you finally came undone with a choked cry, and Jay felt it—your walls tightening around him.

He held you tighter, his breathing ragged.

“I’m going to brand this into your skin.”

And he did.

He came deep inside you with a strained groan, resting his forehead on your back, still for a moment, letting his breath cool on your skin.

Then, without letting go, he whispered:

“He better not touch himself thinking about you again. Because next time…”“…I’ll leave the door wide open. So he doesn’t just hear it. He sees it.”

✧ Jake ----------

You were on a video call with Jake, sitting on your bed, wearing one of his oversized shirts that barely reached mid-thigh. Your hair was a bit messy, your expression soft and playful. He watched you from his room, smiling as you talked about your day—silly things, random thoughts—laughing, making cute gestures, absentmindedly playing with the hem of the shirt.

What you didn’t know… was that someone else was in the room with him.

Ni-ki.

He was sitting on the other side of the desk, wearing headphones, supposedly watching a video. But Jake noticed something was off. He saw how Ni-ki subtly glanced at the screen… and how his hand disappeared beneath the desk.

Jake froze.

He looked back at the screen. You were still smiling, crossing your legs innocently.

Then he heard it. A soft gasp. From Ni-ki.

And just like that, something snapped inside him.

Without a word, Jake closed his laptop. He stood up, stormed across the room, and yanked the headphones off Ni-ki. With one swift motion, he shoved his chair back.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?”

Ni-ki didn’t answer. He just lowered his head, ashamed, but not apologizing.

Jake’s jaw clenched. He slammed the door shut, hard. Then walked back, reopened his laptop, and your face reappeared on the screen.

“Jake? What happened? Are you okay?”

He sat down in front of the camera, his gaze locked on you.

“Nothing. I just… I can’t stop thinking about how fucking good you look in my shirt.”

You laughed nervously. Jake smiled too, but something had shifted. His eyes were darker. Hungry.

“Can you do something for me, baby?”

“Slide the shirt off one shoulder. Just a little.”

You blinked in surprise, but obeyed. You let the fabric fall, baring your shoulder.

Jake exhaled sharply. He knew Ni-ki was still in the room, silent, stuck, knowing he couldn’t leave.

“That’s it. Stay like that. Now show me a little more.”

You bit your lip, hesitating.

“Why are you being like this…?”

“Because someone was watching you the way they shouldn’t. And now I need to remind him who you belong to.”

You looked down, shy, but there was something in your eyes. A spark. Jake saw it. And that was all he needed.

“I’m going to make sure you hear exactly what I’d do to you if you were here…”

And without warning, he pulled his sweatpants down, his hand wrapping around himself slowly, deliberately.

Your eyes widened. Your breath quickened.

Jake licked his lips and smirked, knowing Ni-ki was still frozen in the corner, watching it all unfold.

“This is for you. And if anyone else dares to look again… I’ll break their fucking hands.”

He didn’t take his eyes off the camera as his hand began to move with more rhythm. Your cheeks flushed. You couldn’t look away.

Your thighs instinctively pressed together, and Jake noticed instantly.

“Are you squeezing your legs?”

“Open them.”

Your breath hitched. You did as he said, slowly, trembling.

“Just like that. Let me see.”

Then his tone dropped, deep and cutting, as he tilted his head slightly.

“And you, the one in the back… listen well.”

“This face. These moans. They’re mine. And all you’ll ever get… is the sound of me fucking her until she can’t even speak.”

His eyes returned to you, darker now, his hand pumping faster.

“Touch yourself.”

“I want to see you soaking wet, knowing someone else is dying to be me… but never will.”

Your hand slipped under the shirt. A soft whimper escaped your lips, and Jake groaned in response.

“That’s it, baby. Give it all to me. I want you to come for me, right now… while he sits there, not even able to breathe without hating himself for wanting you.”

✧ Sunghoon ----------

Sunghoon hadn’t expected to walk in on that.

He was just heading up to grab a hoodie he’d lent Heeseung, but as he passed by the slightly open door… he heard it.

Moans. Your name. And it wasn’t his own voice saying it. He peeked in, curious… and saw.

Heeseung was leaning against the headboard, body tense, his hand moving steadily between his legs. But what truly froze him in place was what Heeseung was holding in the other hand: A photo of you. That photo of you at the beach. The one only Sunghoon had. He stared for a few seconds in silence, not moving. Until Heeseung opened his eyes… and saw him.

“Shit…” he muttered, instantly pulling his hand away. The photo dropped to the floor.

Sunghoon didn’t say anything at first. He glanced down, picked up the picture calmly, slid it into the back pocket of his jeans… then looked up with a raised brow.

“Are you seriously jerking off to my girl?”

Heeseung opened his mouth, but nothing coherent came out.

Sunghoon just watched him. No yelling. No anger.

“Wanna really see her?”

Heeseung frowned, confused.

“Then come with me.”

…

Minutes later, Heeseung was sitting in the corner armchair of Sunghoon’s bedroom. From there, he had the perfect view.

You were on the bed, wearing a loose shirt that barely covered you. You didn’t know anyone else was there. You were smiling at Sunghoon, that smile that always drove him insane.

He leaned in, kissed you softly, and gently pushed the fabric up to expose your hips.

“Can I have you now, baby?”

“Always, Hoon…” you whispered, hands gliding up to his neck.

He laid you down carefully, settling between your thighs, trailing kisses down your skin like he had all the time in the world.

“You look so fucking beautiful like this…”

From the chair, Heeseung watched, breath shallow, heart racing.

Sunghoon leaned down, lips brushing yours as he whispered:

“Do me a favor…”

“What kind…?”

“Moan for me. Loud this time I want someone else to hear what he’ll never have.”

And then he pushed into you, deep and smooth. Your moan was soft at first, but it rose with each thrust.

The pace wasn’t rushed—it was intense, focused, like Sunghoon was trying to claim every inch of you.

On the chair, Heeseung was already falling apart. His hand slid down. Slowly at first.

He couldn’t look away. Your body. Your lips. The way you arched beneath Sunghoon…

And then your eyes found his. You looked straight at him. Held his gaze. And smiled. A soft, teasing, breathless smile full of heat.

While Sunghoon gripped your hips and thrust harder, you never broke eye contact with Heeseung. You bit your lip. Raised your hips. Took him deeper.

And then you moaned. Loud. Shameless. For him. Looking right at him.

And Heeseung?

He completely lost it.

✧ Sunoo ----------

The house was completely silent when you got up to look for Sunoo. You’d woken in the middle of the night, missing the warmth of his body next to yours.

Barefoot, and wearing nothing but one of your oversized shirts, you walked quietly down the hallway. A faint light shone beneath one of the doors—you assumed he was there.

You didn’t knock. You just opened the door softly…

And froze. Jake was sitting on the bed, shirtless, his face tense, his hand between his legs. But that wasn’t the worst part. It was what he was holding in his arms. Your shirt. The one you swore you’d tossed in the dirty laundry.

And his voice…

“Fuck, Y/n…”

Then he looked up—and saw you.

His whole face shifted, panic crashing into him all at once. He sat up fast, still breathless, guilt painted across his expression.

“Y/n… I didn’t—”

But he never got to finish. The door behind you flew open. Sunoo.

He grabbed your arm without saying a word, slammed the door shut behind you both, and pulled you down the hallway toward his room.

You didn’t resist. You couldn’t speak. His face was unreadable—but in his eyes, there was something new.

Rage. Wounded pride. And desire.

Once inside, he closed the door behind you. Still holding your wrist, his eyes swept over you slowly.

“Are you okay?” he asked, voice low and restrained. You nodded, still in shock at what you'd just walked in on.

Sunoo took a deep breath. Stepped closer. Then again.

Until your back hit the door. His hand rose to your face, his thumb brushing your cheek, but his gaze never softened.

“Don’t go walking into rooms that aren’t mine again.”

His tone wasn’t gentle. It was firm. Dominant. And that version of him turned you on instantly.

“You’re mine.”

Then, without warning, he kissed you. Hard. No hesitation.

His tongue claimed your mouth like he owned it, and his hands slid down your waist, pushing you toward the bed. He pulled your shirt off in one swift move, then laid you down—careful, but relentless. He climbed over you, his skin warm against yours, his expression unreadable but intense.

“Did he touch you?”

You shook your head.

“Did he speak to you?”

“Only my name…” you whispered.

Sunoo leaned in, mouth brushing your ear.

“Then you’re going to moan it loud enough that he never dares say it again.”

His hands slid to your hips, then his mouth followed—trailing down your belly, slow and sure.

He wasn’t in a rush. He was claiming you.

Every kiss, every lick, every soft whimper he pulled from your lips was his way of branding you—reminding you, and anyone else listening, exactly who you belonged to.

And as you melted beneath his touch, something became painfully clear:

Sweet, perfect Sunoo… also knew exactly how to be ruthlessly yours.

✧ Jungwon ----------

Jungwon had only planned to grab a hoodie. That was it. Nothing more, nothing weird.

But as he passed by the slightly open door to Sunoo’s room… he heard something.Fast breathing. Soft, muffled moans.

He paused. Stepped closer—quietly. And then he saw it.

Sunoo, sitting at the edge of the bed, panting, one hand gripping a wrinkled shirt, the other working between his legs. But the worst part?

What was right in front of him. A photo of you.

One that only you and Jungwon should have. One of those private ones you’d taken after a shower, late one night.

Jungwon didn’t make a sound. He just shut the door—quietly—before Sunoo could even realize he’d been seen.

Then he turned and went straight back to his room, where you were sitting on the bed, scrolling through your phone, wearing one of his shirts and absolutely nothing underneath.

He looked at you for a long second. Then walked over and gently took the phone from your hands.

“Come here. Lie down.”

“What’s going on?”

“We’re going to film something together.”

“Wait… what?”

“Sunoo’s jerking off to a photo of you. So let’s give him something better.”

Your eyes widened completely. But you didn’t speak. Because Jungwon was already setting up his phone, placing it on the shelf across from the bed—angled perfectly.

Then he turned to you, undressing quickly, every movement calm, controlled, intense. He crawled between your legs, eyes burning.

“You ready?”

“Y-Yeah…”

He kissed you. Not softly. It was deep, consuming—needy.

His hands moved over your body, lifting the shirt, exposing your skin, and in seconds, you were completely naked beneath him, lying back as he spread you open with his fingers.

“Look me in the eyes. I want that bastard to see everything.”

Then he pushed inside you in one smooth, hard motion.

You gasped—his name tearing from your lips without warning.

Jungwon started to move. Fast. But deliberate. Every thrust purposeful. Every sound, every angle, timed and measured. His hips snapped against you with force. His hands gripped your waist tight.

“This… is what it looks like when I really have you.”“When you’re wet for me. When you moan my name. When you come just for me.”

He reached up, wrapping a hand around your throat—not tight, just to hold you close, keep your eyes locked to his.

“I want you to come while looking at me.”“Knowing someone else is going to be watching this with his hand down his pants.”

His voice—those words—broke something inside you. The pleasure surged. You came hard, screaming his name, trembling underneath him.

Jungwon growled against your mouth, feeling you tighten around him—and followed right after, spilling inside you with a low, shaky moan. He stayed there for a moment, panting, forehead resting against yours.

Then he looked toward the camera. Got up, picked up the phone, and typed:

“Here’s some better material to jerk off to 😏🔥”

And hit send.

✧ Ni-ki ----------

You’d gotten up quickly—barefoot, half-asleep—just wanting to use the bathroom before crawling back into bed.

You opened the door without thinking… And froze. Jay was there. Standing in front of the mirror, shirt lifted, pants low, his hand wrapped tightly around his erection.

But that wasn’t what knocked the air out of your lungs. It was the phone, resting on the sink edge. The photo on the screen. You.

The one you’d taken at the beach—from the back, in that tiny bikini. The one only Ni-ki was supposed to have.

Jay met your eyes. And didn’t stop. His hand kept moving—slower now, but firmer. He didn’t look ashamed. Or guilty. Just hungry.

“Now that you’re here…”“You gonna stay—or just stand there and watch?”

You had no idea what to say. You stammered something you couldn’t even remember, took a step back, and shut the door with your heart hammering in your throat. You ran back to the room.

Ni-ki was lying on the bed, phone in hand.

“Niki…” you whispered.

He looked up.

“What’s wrong?”

“I saw Jay… in the bathroom… he was— He was touching himself… to my photo.”

Ni-ki went silent. He didn’t say a word. He got up slowly. Walked out the door. Closed it behind him.

You were left there, sitting on the bed, breath caught in your chest, not knowing what was about to happen. You didn’t know how much time passed before he returned. But when he did—he didn’t give you a chance to think.

The door swung open hard. Ni-ki stepped in, slammed it shut, and grabbed your arm with a firm grip you’d never felt from him before. He pressed you back against the door, his body against yours, eyes dark and locked on you.

“That photo?” —he said, voice low and sharp— “Only I was supposed to see it.”

Then he kissed you—hard. Fierce. Uncontrolled.

His hands slipped down to your thighs, lifting you easily, forcing your legs around his waist. Your back hit the door. His mouth moved down your neck.

“I’m gonna fuck you right here.”“Where anyone can hear it. Just so it’s clear who really owns you.”

He yanked your underwear down, let his pants fall, and entered you in one swift, deep thrust. No waiting. No words.

The door creaked under the pressure of every thrust. His hands gripped your hips tightly, his moans hot against your skin.

“He touched himself thinking about you?”“Then let him hear you moaning for me.”

Your body arched against him, legs shaking from the intensity. Each thrust was fast, firm, perfectly placed.

You were completely his. The way he filled you—so deep, so full—you couldn’t even breathe.

“Say it. Tell me who you belong to.”

“You! I’m yours, Ni-ki! Only yours!”

“Louder. Let them all fucking hear it.”

And you did.

You screamed his name when you came, clutching his back, trembling against him. He followed just seconds later—buried inside you, body shaking, forehead pressed to yours as he whispered:

“No one else. Ever.”

✧A/n: Do you know what I’m obsessed with? Sunghoon and Heeseung fighting over the reader — like aaaah!!, I need to write more about them like this!!! I hope you liked it! Comments, likes, and reblog are really appreciated!! Mwah!Mwha! ilysm

✧Taglis: @lezleeferguson-120 @nuki-riki @ijustwannareadstuff20 @vvenusoncasual @miellette @enhacolor @xxkatsusjinsux @somieverse @ourshin @han-to-my-minho @douqhnxtss @nuggets4lifers @mitmit01 @highway-143 @ddeonuswife

#oh shit #izzy reblogs ✶⋆.˚

932 notes · View notes

izzyy-recs · 6 days ago

Text

Yes yes yes yes, I love how Mae writes

𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝙱𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚂𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚜

𝙵𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝙵𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚢!𝙱𝚎𝚘𝚖𝚐𝚢𝚞 𝚡 𝙵𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝙵𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚢!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚕𝚢 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝙳𝚒𝚜𝚗𝚎𝚢'𝚜 𝙿𝚒𝚡𝚒𝚎 𝙷𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠: 𝚂𝚎𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚆𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚢, 𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎, 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏, 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 5,500 𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆, 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝚍𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝, 𝚏𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛, 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎!𝚝𝚡𝚝 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚜, 𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚡, 𝚞𝚗𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚡, 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢, 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚓𝚘𝚋, 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚟𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚖, 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚐𝚑 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚙 𝚒𝚗 𝚟, 𝚌𝚞𝚍𝚍𝚕𝚎𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙵𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚢 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛: 𝙴𝚅𝙴𝙽𝚃 𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃

The whistling wind runs down the spine of the arctic forest. Dusting of snow swirls up, dancing amongst its thick blanket below. Tall pine trees that hold few life forms, every once in a while, shake off the powder as if exhausted from the sky's recent downfall. Here, lonely frost fairies live miles away from each other, hibernating, waiting until Jack Frost calls them to the human world. To do their duty and welcome the months of chilly gloom for humankind to endure.

Along a snowy trail, the trees become scattered as they get closer to the divide—a small stone bridge, perfect for a singular fairy to be able to cross beyond the winter realm. Where the snow-covered ground turns into fresh dirt, and the unique snowflakes melt into raindrops best to water the plants.

“The Seasonal Divide” is what the fairies called it. Where one side held the cold and quiet fairies, and the other side had evergreen trees, covering the bustling of many busy fairies, constantly providing little things, such as painted butterfly wings, fertile plants, or lost keys for humans to find.

Sunlight bouncing off a rushing river, melted from the winter realm you call home, where snow fairies, ice fairies, and frost fairies like you dwell. The sudden glint pierces your vision, sharp and startling, a definite way to wake you up from a winter’s nap. You shake the frost that builds up in your white hair during your slumber, then stretch your crystallized body. In a snow-covered pine tree close to the border between the warm seasonal realm and the winter realm, there was a burrow where you lived. It was dark yet warm inside, with little wooden furniture, ice-stained glass windows, and an eye-catching icicle chandelier proudly made by you. A quaint living space, however, the best part of your home in the burrow was that it was a few flaps of your wings to the seasonal divide. You never dare step foot past the line that separates the warm fairies from the cold ones, yet you live close to fairy-watch.

All fairies are born the same, it's just how the magical wind takes their baby pappus, which chooses your destined type of fairy to become. A lot land in the thick forest, creating many woodland fairies. Some fall into rivers or lakes, creating water fairies. Very few land in fire or on the winter side, making those fairies rare, different.

Cold fairies' personalities mimic their nature, being reserved, detached, and unreadable. It is an isolated community; only one season is used for humans, so the population is staggered. You couldn’t deny that stereotype as it is true. Leaving the family at an early age, living alone, and having no neighbors for miles. This is why you liked being next to the divide, watching the change of culture of diverse fairies, judging their weird ways of soaking in the sun, making plants grow instead of wilt, and using materials that aren’t ice to build things.

There was one fairy in particular that you found brought the most value to your boring life. A male fairy of light, always seen bathed in the soft gold of the sun, with a signature halo glow of the rare fire fairies. His earthy brown hair is long and tousled, falling in soft layers that catch streaks of light, giving it a windswept, ethereal quality. His deep hazel eyes are large and expressive, always carrying a distant gaze, and long lashes that bat on his sunburnt cheeks.

You often see this fairy with his friends, quickly learning that his name is Beomgyu. Chatterboxes are always calling for his attention or yelling at him for some mischievous thing he has done. At first, you thought he was a nuisance, that is, until you found the fire fairy away from the town closest to the divide, alone without a group; it was just him at the shore of the running river that divided the two seasons.

For the first time, you saw Beomgyu quiet and peaceful, sitting on the pebbles that would be considered tiny for humans, his feet so close to the river’s water. Yellow pollen drifts gently around him, some crumbs nestled in his hair, others clinging to the silk of his sweater. His expression is almost dreamy—eyes distant, lips slightly parted as if lost in thought or drawn toward something unseen. The tranquility of it all felt familiar to you, something you’ve experienced on your side of the stream. You never wanted to step foot past the line that separates the warm fairies from the cold ones, until that very moment.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♡⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

The blazing sun cast its heat down over the meadow, pouring out like liquid fire. Even in the winter realm, the sun was affecting it as the layers of snow became thinner, melting into the dirt below. Icicles that hung above your burrow dripped onto your head as you looked outside, noticing the change of weather. Looking beyond the divide, past the tall grass into the village, you watch as the tinkering fairies and the ones with technology specialties make-shift leaf fans. Blowing a soft breeze onto the glowing skin and glinting sweat-kissed wings of fairies. What was once a bustling town now turned languid, its fluttering slowed by the weight of the heat.

The air felt thick with sun, and some sought shade beneath curling shards of grass or dipped into cool flower basins. A flutter of fairies floats close to the divide, their laughter softer, more breathless. That’s when you notice Beomgyu within the group, you quickly fly behind a tree close to the change of season. To no surprise, you could tell the fire fairy basked in the summer’s sun; he looked more confident, alive, and burning bright.

“We should go across.” A fairy said with the slightest smug undertone. “I bet we’d cool down immediately.” The same fairy continues.

Others laughed, some hummed in amusement. However, Beomgyu, with big eyes, looked out into the winter realm, as if he were distracted. The quietness interrupted by drops of water from the trees allured him so much that he didn’t pay attention to half of his friend group trying to cross. You watch one nature fairy barely stepping a foot into the snow before screeching at the cold burn, and then a music fairy brought their full body into the snow, watching as their tan skin quickly turned pale and wings frosting at the tips. The fairies' clumsy attempts at being frost fairies made you giggle, but it abruptly stops when you see Beomgyu take his turn.

The sunlight seems to glow brighter as he takes a deep breath, with a mischievous grin, Beomgyu steps through. The chill breeze nipped at his nose, instantly causing him to shiver. He held out his hand, palm out facing the sun, as small golden sparks engulfed into a small flame. A chuckle comes from deep in his chest, prideful of his creation, and that the cold didn’t seem to bother him.

“See?” he called out to his friends behind him, his voice cracking in the cold. “Told you I could handle it.”

But instead of cheers, their faces twisted into horror—eyes wide, mouths parted. Confused, Beomgyu’s grin faltered.

“What?” he laughed, tilting his head, the flame dancing brighter.

Then he felt it.

A quiet shift in the air, as light flurries of snow dance along his shoulders. He turned, and there you were. A frost fairy, something Beomgyu or any other fairy has never seen before. Still as the ice, eyes like quiet winter storms. Your lips parted as if to speak, but no words came.

Beomgyu froze, his big brown eyes flitted up, down—capturing the curl of your white hair, the icy shimmer of your wings, the soft glow around you like moonlight on snow. His flame dimmed, his chest tightened as feelings erupted, feelings he felt couldn’t be shared.

A step back, then another. Behind him, his friends began to flee, their panic breaking the silence like cracking ice. Beomgyu hesitated for one heartbeat longer—eyes locked with yours—then turned sharply and flew after them, the cold chasing his warmth, leaving you alone beneath the hot summer’s sun.

You sat in the snow long after the others had gone; the divide felt even more apparent after what had happened. The snow kept its silent watch while the warmer side’s grass swayed golden and green beneath the touch of the setting sun.

The sun buried itself lower as the sky went from amber to dark. You were just about to retreat into the silver trees when a flicker of orange glinted through the tall grass across the divide.

Then came a voice, “Hey…”

You looked up.

Beomgyu stood there, a soft flame circling in his palms like a nervous habit. “I’m sorry for running away earlier,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I realized that was… rude.”

You stared at him, face unmoving. “It was,” you said coolly, your voice crisp.

He winced—visibly—and pouted. “Okay, yeah. I deserve that.” He took a careful step closer but stayed on his side, right at the edge of the invisible line. “We just… we’ve always heard things about the ice fairies.”

You raised a brow. “Yeah, yeah, that we’re cold-hearted, rude, intolerable creatures,” you snapped, voice sharper than you'd meant it to be. Then you caught yourself, lips pressing into a thin line, realizing you'd just proven the rumors.

Beomgyu’s eyes softened, his fire dimming a little. “But none of us stop and get to know you better,” he said gently.

The wind carried a hush over the field between you. Your heart thudded once in your chest, the snow beneath you softening. You always knew that the fire fairy was different, but this was especially unique. You were dizzy from the thought that he was willing to get to know you. A small smile creeps onto your face as you nod.

Beomgyu cautiously settles across from you at the edge of the divide—still on his side, but close enough that the glow of his flame illuminates onto you. His wings flutter as he fully digests the beauty that you are. The two of you talk, first shy, then with surprising ease. He jokes clumsily; you roll your eyes, but the corner of your mouth curls, giving away your fondness for his jokes.

You ask about his fire, and he asks about your snow. You both admit the rumors you've heard, but also how little either side truly knows the other. His laugh is warm, yours soft like snowfall, and slowly, the distance between you feels less like a boundary and more like a bridge.

As stars begin to blink overhead, there's a quiet moment between words. You glance up and catch him already watching you, something in his eyes flickers with unspoken thoughts. Neither of you says it, but in the hush of that night, it’s clear: a friendship is forming—fragile and new—carrying with it the faintest promise of something deeper, something quietly blooming like warmth beneath frost.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♡⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

Days passed, and every few nights, you met Beomgyu at the divide. Sometimes you'd talk. Sometimes you'd sit in silence, your fingers nearly brushing but never quite daring. The border between snow and sun had become your hidden world.

Then one evening, as you wait for another secret meeting with the fire fairy, you notice a change in the sky. The warm seasonal realm dimmed beneath a rolling cloud of rain. You hesitated as droplets trickled closer to you, tapping against the icy trees behind you. Rain, rare in your realm, was heavy on the warm side now, cool and silvery. Across the way, Beomgyu stood alone, his sunny halo around him was dim; it was intriguing to see the raindrops turn into steam as they bounced on his shoulders.

“What’s this all about?” you asked, stunned.

“Well, I’ve always wanted you to cross over,” he looks around, admiring the thick fog turning mauve as the sun sets behind it, “So I got my buddy, Yeonjun, to make it as cold as possible this side.”

You stepped closer to the edge, eyeing the water with suspicion. “Doesn’t rain weaken your wings?”

Beomgyu shrugs, “Yeah… I’m fine walking, and everyone’s inside, no one will see you.”

The bare stone bridge stretched before you, and the damp scent engulfed the air. You looked at it, then at him—his hand half-extended, his usual confidence flickering like a nervous flame. You reached for him instinctively, but he faltered.

“I—I shouldn’t,” he muttered, pulling back slightly. “I might… burn you.”

You blinked, accepting his personal space, and with that, you stepped onto the bridge.

Raindrops landed on your cheeks like faint kisses. They were warmer than snow, strange and soft. Your wings drooped slightly, getting used to the weight of the rain, different from snow flurries. Only water and frost fairies’ wings can withstand this type of weather.

You turned to him, “This feels like like a dream.”

Beomgyu brightened as he laughed. “Wait till you see the village!”

As you followed him past the tall grass that usually hid the rest of the realm from the divide, your breath caught. The village was mystically gloomy in the rain—glowing fireflies sat along mossy stones lining narrow footpaths, mushroom houses wedged between shopping outlets built into giant tree trunks with wildflowers blooming from the bark.

You walked slowly, taking in the colors, the movement, the hidden warmth in everything. Even though the village was quiet from the rain, it was more lively than your everyday winter realm. You notice a few fairies walking without a care in the rain, going from one building to the other. Then your eye catches a familiar fae across the muddy path.

“Is that the girl who always flirts with you?” you said quietly, nodding toward a soft-looking fairy arranging petals beneath an awning.

Beomgyu glanced at her, then at you. “Yeah. She’s great. But she’s not…” He trailed off, not finishing the sentence. You didn’t notice his gaze lingering or the frustrated sigh he let out.

Suddenly, a handsome fairy, dark hair slick from the rain, covered in water lily clothing, swoops down towards you.

“Who’s that?” You gasp.

“Yeonjun, what’s wrong?” Beomgyu asks, noticing the worrisome look on the water fairy.

Yeonjun’s wings flutter rapidly, keeping him from staying in one place. “Sorry, I gotta help someone across the river, apparently someone ruined a beaver dam–this should hold a while longer!” he said, gesturing lazily to the sky before zooming away.

But within moments, the clouds above began to break. You blinked up, the cool raindrops fading as the air increasingly became warm and humid. Your wings twitched in alarm—he’d left too soon.

“Gyu—” you sigh, wings too weak to keep your body afloat.

He was already reaching for you. “Hold on,” he said quickly, voice sharper now. “We have to go.”

He grabbed your hand, this time with no hesitation, and pulled you gently but urgently through the tall grass, back toward the divide. As the clouds separate and the last bit of sun breaks through, Beomgyu’s internal fire sparked to life, causing it to burn you as you stumbled back into the winter realm. You wince, holding your arm, breath sharp in your lungs, wings quivering.

Beomgyu gasps, lips quivering, realizing what he had done to you. He stood away from you on his side of the divide. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, breathless. “I think… I like it there.”

He smiled again, slower this time, something deeper behind his eyes. “So do I,” he said. “Especially when you’re in it.”

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♡⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

After that night, something shifts between you and Beomgyu. You begin to find traces of him near the divide—dried sunflowers pressed into burnt leaves, smooth stones that somehow still hold a whisper of warmth, and folded bits of bark scrawled with his clumsy doodles: two stick-fairies dancing under stars, wings bigger than their bodies.

One day, you catch him in the act. He's crouched near the log bridge, trying to wedge a little copper charm between the roots.

“You’re terrible at sneaking,” you say, arms crossed.

Beomgyu’s wings straighten, startled, then he grins sheepishly. “I was hoping you'd think it just magically appeared.”

You roll your eyes—but your smile lingers. You both stay at the divide, talking, watching the clouds form various shapes.

Beomgyu’s voice cuts through the peaceful silence, “Hey, if you ever need warmth,” he says, “you can do this.”

You watch him zoom in the air, gathering dried grass and twigs within the dirt. Coming back with arms full, he steps into the snow with no hesitation.

“Uh- what do you think you’re doing?” You ask, eyes widen, instantly watching his body to see if the change of climate would affect him, like it did to you, but there’s no change.

“I’m going to teach you how to build a fire!” He says with pure excitement.

He shows you how to rub sticks together in quick, circular motions, until smoke forms. It takes a few tries, but soon a soft warmth flickers at your fingertips—just enough to ignite the dried grass and melt a patch of snow.

Your eyes widen. “That’s… kind of amazing.”

“I’m kind of amazing,” he says, smug.

You hit him lightly on the arm.

Another day comes around, Beomgyu gathers tea leaves from the vendors of the summer realm’s village and brings them to your frost-bound clearing. You pick up fallen sticks from the heavy snow-covered trees and prepare a small fire like how Beomgyu taught you.

Shape a small hollow of ice with your hands, fill it with water, and chill it with a snap of your fingers.

You sit on a thick blanket woven from frostmoss and fire-fluff—some strange hybrid of your two worlds. Filling an acorn cupule with snow, which instantly melts from the fire. Beomgyu hovers close, adding the fragrant leaves. His warm aura seeping onto you, looking up at his cheeks flushed but smiling. Both of you watch with fascination as the leaves swirl, changing the clear water into a purple liquid.

Creating ice cups from your palm, then scooping the drink into it, “iced tea,” you say proudly.

Beomgyu’s eyes are big and bright, glowing wings flutter in delight, instantly grabbing a cup. He sips it with approval. “I’ve never had anything this good.”

You raise a brow. “You say that every time I make something.”

“Yeah, and I mean it every time.”

Sipping your drinks, sitting in your respective realms, yet close enough that your little fingertips touch at the divide. A normal occurrence for both of you, a slight relief stems from Beomgyu knowing he didn’t have to be his fiery, outgoing self the way he was with the other fairies; instead, he felt calm and relaxed with you.

“Have you ever…” Beomgyu hesitates, swirling the tea in his cup, “Been to the human world?”

You nod, “During the winter months. Jack Frost calls for us, and we go. I’ve flown through cities, dusting snow on roofs, creating icicles, icing their roads.”

Beomgyu places his cup down, his hands distracted by the texture of the blanket. “I’ve heard a few stories about the human world. I’ve never gone, fire fairies cause too many fires there, so I’m needed here.”

You frown, knowing how curious the fairy is, “What have you heard?”

“Taehyun, he’s a technology fairy, said they have handheld boxes that tell them so much about their world. Kai, a music fairy, has mentioned that they like music just as much as we do.”

“It’s true,” you add, your mind starts to think as you admire the soft fairy in front of you, “they have this thing. It's a way to show affection. I think you’d like it.”

He tilts his head. “Show me.”

You hesitate, leaning your head to cross the divide, then gently press your lips to his cheek.

He blinks. “That’s it?”

You shake your head with a small smile. “There’s another way. More… intimate.”

He watches you closely, eyes darker now, curious.

You lean in again, slower this time, your hand brushing his cheek, and press your lips to his—warm meeting cool. His breath catches. The sun hits you as you melt into him, then he kisses you back.

Tentatively at first, then deeper, like he’s trying to memorize the shape of you through every motion. Your pale lips turn pink as they burn from his heated embrace. It was getting too hot to handle, so you pulled away, much to the fire fairy’s dismay.

Beomgyu's chest rises and falls quickly, as if he had flown miles. His long hair was a mess, lips were still puckered. “That was…” he breathes, his eyes half-lidded. “That was good.”

You laugh, and he grins, dazed.

“Show me again?”

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♡⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

The next day, it was decided by you two that it was Beomgyu's turn to explore the winter realm.

He steps into the realm for the first time without hesitation. Frost twinkles along the edges of his hair, his boots crunch softly against the snow-covered moss, and the trees—tall, silent, crystal-laced—stand like ancient guardians watching him pass.

You trail beside him, glancing over in awe. “I still can’t believe you’re able to withstand the cold.”

He shrugs casually, but the way he keeps glancing at your face says he’s enjoying your surprise. “Maybe I’m built different,” he says with a grin. “Or maybe you’re worth freezing for.”

Your face warms, which in your realm is saying something. “No other fire fairy has ever even tried to explore this deep. Most of them wouldn’t last a minute.”

“I know,” he says, quieter now. “That’s why I wanted to.”

The words settle between you like snowfall—gentle, quiet, but deeply felt.

Then he turns to you, smiling a little wider, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Touch me.”

Your eyebrow lifts, your cheeks suddenly pink. “Beomgyu—”

He smiles, innocent, unknowing. Still flustered, you reach out and take his hand.

You gasp. “They’re… warm but not burning.”

“Controlled fire,” he says proudly, wiggling his fingers in yours. “I’ve been practicing since the accident. For you.”

You don’t know what to say to that, so you just hold his hand tighter. The two of you walk in silence through the white-blanketed forest. Snow falls in slow, quiet spirals around you. Now and then, Beomgyu stops to admire the way the ice clings to branches like spun sugar. Eventually, you arrive at your home along the river next to the stone bridge of the divide. An old, hollowed-out tree shaped by time now resembles you.

He steps inside, eyes wide. “Whoa… this is like a snow globe made a home and filled it with weird, beautiful trinkets.”

You smile, watching him as he runs his fingers over a shelf of ice-glass animals, dried crystal-blue leaves, and moonstones. His eyes follow medullary rays of the wood until he finds your bed. A pile of pansy petals lies like a comforter crumpled over arctic fur. Everything smells faintly of lavender and fresh snow.

Without even asking, Beomgyu flutters up above the cushion and free-falls onto it with a soft thud. “This is nice.”

You roll your eyes, kicking off your slippers before crawling in beside him. He immediately wraps himself around you like a lazy flame curling into the cold. He lies behind you, his chest pressed against your back, one arm draped gently around your waist. His hand rests just beneath your ribs, fingers splayed in a protective hold, fingers drawing soft shapes against your belly.

But slowly, you feel his warmth start to dim.

“Gyu?” you whisper.

He exhales through a trembling laugh. “Okay, yeah… I think the cold’s catching up to me.”

You sit up slightly. “Do you need to go?”

He shakes his head and pulls you closer. “No. I just… need your help warming up.”

You can feel his core flame flickering low, but still alive. He shifts beneath the comforter, pressing closer to yours. His warmth pressed against every part of you, his legs tangling with yours, skin hot against your cool thigh. You gasp when his slightest shift grinds against your ass.

Lying there, heart racing, “Gyu, what are you doing?”

“I don’t know, but it seems like it's helping.” The fire fairy’s hands grip your waist tightly, holding you still, as he moves against you.

Holding back whimpers, you shove your face into your pillow. You feel hotter again, something the environment cannot control. Then Beomgyu’s hand cups your face, having it turn towards him, pursuing a passionate kiss.

“You know– humans do this thing other than kissing, I’ve seen it while frosting window panes.”

“Is it like kissing?” Beomgyu asks desperately, loving this new act.

“Much more intimate–”

Beomgyu furrows his eyebrows, “H-how?” His face always had a pink blush dusted on his tan skin, but knowing there were ways to get closer had him turning red.

You twist your torso, keeping his body close to your backside. Your freezing hand runs down where his silk shirt crops above his pants.

“Can I touch all of you, in intimate ways?”

“Yes,” Beomgyu says breathlessly.

You smirk at him, his bangs covering his eyes and face, yet you can still see the desperation in his complexion. Slipping under his pants, your hands feel him up. It was different for you, there’s so much you can creep on humans doing the act while doing work. You’ve saw little of what a dick looks like since it was usually stuff into someone else.

You’ve dreamt of what dick would feel like, touching it with your hands and the sensation of having it stuffing you. Sex is not well known in fairy culture, as they do not reproduce by the act. But now that you’re laying by the fairy of your dreams, and having the honor to stroke his cock, you were in paradise.

Fat, veiny, throbbing in your hands. He was extremely warm under your touch, but you didn’t care if it burned. Beomgyu sang out beautiful moans into your ears, twitching and thrusting from the feeling of ice pleasuring him. You notice every time you twist your palm on his tip, his small wings flutter fast, telling you that it was enjoyable.

“Are you warming up, Gyu?” You giggle, already knowing what this is doing to him.

He bites his plush lip, nodding his head, giving a pathetic, “uh-huh.”

The fairy breathing picks up, his dick twitches in your hand. A whine pulls out of him, his head landing on your shoulder, lips grazing your neck. Cum spirts out coating his pants then dripping on your hand.

The heat radiating off of him was becoming too much to bear for you. You decide it's best to shimmy your dress off, trying to let the winter air cool you down. Pulling back the pansey petals, you notice his hand close to your cunt.

“What–” Beomgyu catches his breath, “What just happened to me?”

“I don’t know, but did it feel good? You seem warm again.”

“Yeah,” He whispers into your ear, leaning onto you, getting back to your spooning position. Your wings flat against you, tickling his chest.

Beomgyu’s body heat is close to scorching, and he starts to notice your breathless body squirming. It wasn’t long before his erection came back, causing a whimper to slip through his puffy pink lips. Grinding against your little red bum, he then feels a pool of wetness between your legs.

It was cold, just as if ice was melting under a hot sun. In this case, you were melting from your very own sun. Beomgyu’s dick slips in between the plush of your legs which equally feels as immaculate as your hands. Thrusting his cock against you, hitting a spot that had a moan drawn out from you.

A pleasurable button between your legs was repeatedly pushing you off the edge. Getting a taste of what the fairy behind you must be feeling. Even though choked moans filled the dusty burrow, both of you were becoming more desperate.

“Gyu-ah,” Breathlessly calling the fairy’s name. “W-why don’t you put it in?”

Beomgyu slows his movements, a little stutter in his thrust tells you that he was confused by what you said. You stretch your neck to look at him, the fairy has this euphoric glow, his long brown hair stuck to his sweaty skin. Reaching out to tuck a piece of his hair behind his cherry red pointed ears.

His wings flutter at the attention, picking up a little confidence to ask, “Put it in where?”

You hum, realizing that the fairy has never seen the things you’ve seen. All the times of flying by windows during the dead of night, fascinated by all the things humans can do with their anatomy. In the dead of night in the winter realm at the very spot you’re at right now, you’ve curiously explored yourself to see what you could do with yourself. Eventually becoming experienced enough to know where exactly his dick should go.

Your little hand finds the fairy’s firey red dick again. He groans in your ear as your chilled flesh makes him shiver. Slowly, you guide him through your seeping hole.

A loud whimper hits your ears, and he winces, feeling your tightness clamp onto him. Looking at the beautiful creature behind you, you see Beomgyu’s mouth wide open and eyes scrunched together in pure ecstasy. Steam evaporating from your body, getting hotter and hotter.

Once you two get used to the sweet feeling of sex, you feel his fingers start to trace delicate paths on your frost-kissed skin, saying, “Am I burning you?”

You smile, shaking your head no. He sighs into your touch, placing a small kiss on your bare shoulder. His hands start to explore as his hips move, gripping the swell of your ass trailing fire along your spine.

Then his hand splayed flat against your stomach, fingertips searing and slow. Holding you close as he sped up his movements. You shivered—not from cold, but from the way he held you like something fragile. Like touching you too much would ruin you, yet not touching you at all would ruin him.

Engulfed in Beomgyu’s warmth, you try to move your hips, chasing your climax. His warm lips kiss along your neck, down to your back, lightly pecking your wings. Each time he did so was a drastic temperature change on your skin, from cool to hot. The sensation of slick heat increases your sensitivity, cutely gasping as you milk his dick. The air felt heavy and hard to breathe in, especially when Beomgyu rams into you hard, knocking your breath away. He begins to hit that sweet spot, tying the knot in your stomach tighter.

Suddenly, you feel a burn against your jaw, soon realizing it was the fairy’s hand turning your head towards him. Hot breath fanning over your freezing face, you kiss as you both release. His cum was warm and filled you to the brim, completely satisfying both of your fantasies.

Outside, the frost trees sparkled under a moon-silvered sky, snowflakes drifting lazily like drowsy stars. Inside, the burrow was quiet but full—of warmth, of breath, of the slow, steady thrum of something sacred.

Beomgyu lay beside you, still catching his breath, the fire in his skin dimmed to a low, golden ember. “I think… I like it here.” His hand rested over your heart, fingers gently brushing your skin in slow, grounding circles.

You smiled, gripping his hand tightly. “So do I,” you say. “Especially when you’re in it.”

Your wings, still damp and glittering with melted frost, twitched sleepily behind you. His eyes were soft now, too—drooped with exhaustion but fluttering just slightly when you leaned in to kiss his forehead.

He shifted to tuck your head beneath his chin, wrapping the pansy quilt around you both. You felt the hum of his magic—warm, steady, like a candle lit just for you. He smelled faintly of pine ash and melted honey.

“I’ll keep it low,” he murmured. “Just enough to keep you warm, not enough to melt your walls.”

You chuckled softly, fingertips tracing the outline of his ribs. “You’re not melting anything. I let you stay.”

“Oh, I know,” he grinned, eyes fluttering closed. “Still… thank you.”

You reached behind you, fumbling for a small crystal vial on your nightstand. Unscrewing the cork, you let a few drops of moonpetal oil fall onto your palm—cool, calming, and lightly shimmering. You rubbed your hands together, then began gently massaging his shoulders, letting your frost soothe where tiny flames abruted during sex, and burned his soft skin.

Beomgyu groaned softly, melting under your touch. “You’re too good to me,” he murmured, eyes heavy with sleep and wonder.

“I’m balancing the elements,” you whispered, a playful glint in your eye.

He pulled you close again, burying his face in your neck, breath warm and even.

You stayed like that for a long time—wrapped in soft fur, surrounded by the hush of snow and magic, with fire and frost gently tangled beneath the covers.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♡⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Taglist: @i-am-not-dal, @usuallyunlikelyfox, @lovesickchoi

@silvergyus, @taegimood, @napofamoon, @hyukalyptus

#izzy reblogs ✶⋆.˚#mae <3

90 notes · View notes

izzyy-recs · 8 days ago

Text

"ongg fate 🥰😝😝😝❤️❤️🤞🤞🤞"

Yes Jake baby we are so fated

TWO .ᐟ ── j0b. that's a slur...

SYNOPSIS: another casual grueling day at your job lands you to reunite with jake sim—your hallway crush who moved away in high school. not wanting to hope for more from the chance encounter, you end up being paired with jake for a semester-long project. knowing deep down things will never happen, your only goal is to be friends with jake. while on the other hand, you haven't left jake's mind since he moved away.

prev | m.list | next

evie's note: okay wait... 100+ notes on chapter 1 is a wittle bit crazy ngl (>.<) !! im so glad everyone is enjoying OOML so far :D !! also thank you to my angel pie ronnie for some quick help :3

out of my league taglist ... ( if interested leave a reply ! )

perm tag: @ikeulove @leehsngs @ijustwannareadstuff20 @enhanextdoor @zaycie @dylanobr1ens @miraeluv @ancnymcnzjy @lvvrikss @treasureteez @delirioastral @izzyy-stuff

@rairaiblog @izzyy-stuff @thing89 @cinnamqnki @viagumi @zyvlxqht @wonzzziezzzz @manuosorioh @hizhu @soobundle1009 @right-person-wrong-time @vvenusoncasual @letwiiparkjay @jayhoonvroom @djikeu @aineest4r @wenomakiluvr @jaysguitarstring @heejamas @haechology @kukkurookkoo @ilovhoonie @trsrworld @ilovewonyo @luhvletters @wonuziex @p1hbrook @qtke @remgeolli @hunnyuwu

©myjjongie 2025

#izzy reblogs ✶⋆.˚

131 notes · View notes

izzyy-recs · 8 days ago

Text

mhmm I love beomgyu, let me in I'll be his gf that laughs at his jokes and sucks his dick 🙏🙏

ONE .ᐟ ── SYBAU

prev | m.list | next

evie's note: YIPPEE YIPPEE chapter one is here !!! sorry if its a little short, trying to map it out more thoroughly for what i have planned for upcoming chapters :3

out of my league taglist ... ( if interested leave a reply ! )

perm tag: @ikeulove @leehsngs @ijustwannareadstuff20 @enhanextdoor @zaycie @dylanobr1ens @miraeluv @ancnymcnzjy @lvvrikss @treasureteez @delirioastral @izzyy-stuff

©myjjongie 2025

#izzy reblogs ✶⋆.˚#Ily #Let's kiss

151 notes · View notes

izzyy-recs · 8 days ago

Text

PROFILES .ᐟ ── nonchalant mfs

» JAKE: second year at decelis college, just recently came back from being abroad in australia for a violin scholarship. used to be classmates with yn in high school as well, remembers her as if he met her yesterday. would prefer building legos over practicing the violin in all honesty.

» JAY: second year at decelis college, majoring in music production. jay has been childhood friends with sunghoon and jake since they were kids. is usually seen around campus carrying his guitar.

» SUNGHOON: second year at decelis college, focusing on general studies in the mean time. apart of the ice skating club as well as a consistent gold winner. sunghoon pushes a nonchalant image (and gets away with it) but he's genuinely a loser.

» JISUNG: second year at decelis college, majoring in computer science. jisung was friends with jay and sunghoon prior to jake coming back from australia. jisung tries to push the nonchalant façade but fails in the end (contrast to sunghoon).

» CHENLE: third year at decelis college, is under a basketball scholarship. met stephen curry one time and has not shut up about it since... is a rich kid alongside jay, but lacks money awareness. majority of his time is spent on the basketball court, unironically.

prev | m.list | next

evie's note: i have chapter one being mapped out, IM SO BACK CHAT. also IGNORE the bleow 5% battery. i was LOCKED tf in making the profiles LOL

out of my league taglist ... ( if interested leave a reply ! )

perm tag: @ikeulove @leehsngs @ijustwannareadstuff20 @enhanextdoor @zaycie @dylanobr1ens @miraeluv @ancnymcnzjy @lvvrikss @treasureteez @delirioastral @izzyy-stuff

©myjjongie 2025

#izzy reblogs ✶⋆.˚

63 notes · View notes

izzyy-recs · 8 days ago

Text

finally starting this

PROFILES .ᐟ ── beomgyu unc fr !!!

» YN: second year at decelis college. hasn’t picked out her major yet—getting through her general studies in the mean time. used to be old class mates with jake in high school as well as taehyun. yn has a tendency to spend money on gacha games. hence her devoted love for elysia from honkai impact 3rd.

» GISELLE: second year at decelis college, majoring in fashion. giselle has been yn’s best friend since their last year of high school. knows all about the lore of yn crushing on jake. love to bicker and pick on the guys, tho it’s mostly targeted at beomgyu.

» LIZ: first year at decelis college, majoring in music. liz met yn at a shared part time job—though liz ended up leaving said job. yn wanting to keep a friendship with liz introduced her to everyone. from then on yn cherishs liz deeply.

» BEOMGYU: second year at decelis college, only focusing on general studies for the mean time. even though beomgyu is a year older, he ended up starting college a year late. due to being the older one, he tends to be referred to as a fossil. he also always finds a way to bicker with giselle. beomgyu and taehyun share an apartment together.

» TAEHYUN: second year at decelis college, majoring in psychology. taehyun knew yn in high school, didn’t truly befriend her until their senior year. taehyun wishes to get a cat, but beomgyu is very unaccepting of it. taehyun believes he can convince beomgyu one day.

prev | m.list | next

evie's note: i’m finally starting to cook up stuff for this smau. hopefully by next week wednesday i’ll have the first chapter posted (no promises guys >.<) also projected my elysia love onto yn :3

out of my league taglist ... ( if interested leave a reply ! )

perm tag: @ikeulove @leehsngs @ijustwannareadstuff20 @enhanextdoor @zaycie @dylanobr1ens @miraeluv @ancnymcnzjy @lvvrikss @treasureteez @delirioastral @izzyy-stuff

@rairaiblog @izzyy-stuff @thing89 @cinnamqnki @viagumi @zyvlxqht @wonzzziezzzz @manuosorioh @hizhu @soobundle1009 @right-person-wrong-time @vvenusoncasual @letwiiparkjay @jayhoonvroom @djikeu

©myjjongie 2025

#izzy reblogs ✶⋆.˚

47 notes · View notes

izzyy-recs · 8 days ago

Text

PROFILES .ᐟ ── beomgyu unc fr !!!

prev | m.list | next

out of my league taglist ... ( if interested leave a reply ! )

perm tag: @ikeulove @leehsngs @ijustwannareadstuff20 @enhanextdoor @zaycie @dylanobr1ens @miraeluv @ancnymcnzjy @lvvrikss @treasureteez @delirioastral @izzyy-stuff

@rairaiblog @izzyy-stuff @thing89 @cinnamqnki @viagumi @zyvlxqht @wonzzziezzzz @manuosorioh @hizhu @soobundle1009 @right-person-wrong-time @vvenusoncasual @letwiiparkjay @jayhoonvroom @djikeu

©myjjongie 2025

47 notes · View notes

izzyy-recs · 15 days ago

Text

Crave || Choi Beomgyu

Craving the touch you hadn’t given all day, Beomgyu slipped a strawberry candy past your lips—hoping you'd start craving him instead.

Choi Beomgyu x afab!reader

⊹₊⟡⋆ 1.4k

warning: suggestive, kissing, foodplay (?) passing of candies from mouth to mouth lol, dry humping, [probably missed some i'm sleep deprived]

i actually despise strawberry candies mannn :// Reblogging/feedbacks will be much appreciated!

Beomgyu was an unpredictable man.

Even after years of being in this relationship, he still managed to surprise you—sometimes with his words, often with his thoughtfulness, and most times with the way he touched you like he hadn’t memorized you already. And honestly, you liked this part of him. The spontaneity. The refusal to ever let things settle into anything close to boring.

You placed the last piece of silverware on the table and stepped away, rubbing your palm with a napkin as you turned back toward the kitchen. The counter was cluttered with serving platters and utensils from the dinner preparations, and you focused on organizing them. Tonight was a dinner party you were hosting for your friends.

You were so focused on your work that you didn’t hear the soft padding of footsteps behind you, didn’t register his presence until two arms slipped around your waist from behind and pulled you back into a firm chest.

His mouth was on your shoulder before you could even say his name, warm and full and pressing into the curve of your skin. You felt him exhale, the sound brushing your ear as his nose nudged at the base of your neck.

“I couldn’t get you to myself the entire evening,” he muttered, voice muffled as he kissed along the junction between your neck and shoulder. “I missed you, love.”

There was a familiar pout to his tone, that same whine he sometimes used when you were too busy or distracted to focus on him. Beomgyu had always been clingy when it came to you. He never liked being in the same room and not being able to reach you. And you understood this part of him too—how much he craved time with you, how affection made him feel more than any word could.

But whatever thought was formulating earlier in your mind disappeared the moment his lips found the pulse point. He bit down softly before pressing a warm open-mouthed kiss like he meant to taste every inch of skin he could reach without you stopping him. Your head tilted back against his shoulder involuntarily, the movement giving him more access, and he took it without hesitation, his tongue darting out to trace a path up to your ear. His breath was warm, and the soft sounds he made sent a pulse through your entire frame.

Your fingers gripped the counter instinctively, grounding yourself against the marble’s chill, but the rest of you was melting fast.

“Gyu…” you whispered, voice caught between a sigh and a plea. You turned your head slightly, just enough to let him catch a glimpse of the mess he was making of you without even trying.

Beomgyu’s eyes were dark and heady, and it only fueled the fire that was building inside you. His hand wrapped around the side of your jaw, holding your face in place as his lips caught yours. His teeth caught your bottom lip, and when you groaned, soft and muffled, his mind went completely blank except for one thought.

He wants to absolutely devour you.

With a silent curse, he grabbed your waist and spun you to face him as he backed you up against the counter. The marble was cold against your lower back, but it was the heat of his mouth that stole your breath. His lips crashed into yours with a force that knocked every coherent thought from your head. Your eyes flew open when his tongue pressed insistently between your lips, feeling him pushing something solid—a candy into your mouth, slick and sweet as it rolled over your tongue. The sharp taste of strawberry burst across your senses, catching you so off guard that you moaned into him.

“B-Beomgyu, please—” you gasped between breaths, barely able to form the words, but he didn’t let up. One of his hands slid behind your head, cradling it with surprising tenderness even as his kiss grew more intense.

The candy melted from the heat between you, a slow dissolve that mirrored the state inside your chest.

You could barely keep your balance with the way your knees buckled, and Beomgyu—sensing it without needing to look—gripped your hip with one hand and held you up with the sheer steadiness of his body against yours. The kiss turned messier as he sucked on your tongue, drawing a low moan from your throat that vibrated against his mouth.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to let you gulp down some air, and the smirk that lifted one corner of his lips looked downright devious.

In one swift movement, he hooked his arms beneath your thighs and lifted you onto the counter as though you weighed nothing, the force of his desire slipping through the cracks of his restraint. He stood between your legs, palms running along your thighs, guiding you closer to the edge until you were pressed against him.

You wanted to warn him that the guests might be arriving any moment now, but you couldn't find the will nor the strength in you to tell him to stop.

“Missed you, so fucking much,” he murmured against your neck. The low timbre of his voice sent a shiver down your spine as his lips found the sensitive curve beneath your jaw, kissing, nipping, mouthing his way to every place he remembered made you lose your breath. He lingered there, listening to your reactions like they were a melody, pleased every time he found a new sound.

The room had faded around you both. You didn’t even notice when your back met the couch cushions. The lighting from the nearby lamp brushed your skin in soft pools of glow, casting the heat in your cheeks in dusky pinks and golds. Beomgyu hovered above you, one arm braced beside your head, his gaze fixed on you like he couldn’t afford to blink. His fingers dipped beneath your shirt at the waist, resting on your bare skin, his thumb tracing mindless patterns that sent goosebumps everywhere.

Your chest rose and fell unevenly, your lips kiss-swollen and parted, still tasting the remains of strawberry on your tongue. Your mind, fogged and reeling, could only focus on the need curling deep inside your belly.

You wanted more—of his hands, his mouth, the way his touch unraveled every nerve in your body. You don't know how he even thought of the idea to kiss you with a candy, but it did the work and now that you got a taste of it, you simply didn't want to stop.

You reached for him, fingers bunching at the front of his shirt and tugging him down to you. “Please,” you whispered, voice rough and worn from all the breathless moans he’d pulled from you. “I need you.”

Beomgyu froze for a heartbeat, and then something snapped in him. His eyes darkened, the softness in them drowned by a far more visceral kind of want. He didn’t look away as he leaned in, breathing you in as he slid a hand under the small of your back to pull you even closer as if he couldn’t stand even a breath of space between you.

“I’ve got you,” he said lowly, his nose brushing against yours. “Let me take care of you.”

He positioned himself above you, one leg slipping between yours. He pushed forward with his hips, gently nudging your thighs apart until your legs wrapped around him instinctively. He fit there like a puzzle, the lines of his body molding to yours in perfect sync. Your breath hitched, chest brushing his with each inhale, your arms wound around his shoulders.

The slow rolls of his hips against your core sent jolts of pleasure coursing through you. The barrier of your clothes didn’t get in the way, rather the friction only heightened the need to chase the high for both of you.

His lips hovered over yours, nearly touching—

—and then, the doorbell rang.

The sound sliced through the haze like ice water.

No, no, no, this can’t be happening.

Beomgyu stopped mid-motion, his body taut above yours, caught between disbelief and raw, fraying restraint. You almost whimpered, chasing his mouth with yours, head lifting in desperate protest. But he drew back just slightly, and it felt like the world tilted the wrong way.

The sound you let out made him stare down at you, jaw clenched so tightly you could see the flicker of muscle near his ear, his chest heaving against yours. He took a deep breath, tongue prodding the inside of his cheek.

He dipped his head down again and took your hand instead, pressing a kiss to your fingers while a breathless laugh escaped his throat.

“I promise you, I'm going to give you the best time of your life later tonight.”

Taglist; @dawngyu @1-800-jewon @xylatox @hoefororeo @i-like-to-read-at-4am @caratcakemoa @heesmiles @90steele

#izzy reblogs ✶⋆.˚

385 notes · View notes

izzyy-recs · 17 days ago

Text

I've been wanting to read this fic ever since I found out you wrote something like this and ahhh I'm so glad to finally be able to

"Do I need to remind you again?" she said, "I said speak. No hand signs or whatever that is. That is not allowed here on this house. Do you want me to get mad at you again?"

BROTHER EWWWW KYS HO

They shared the same class, while Taehyun, ever the academic overachiever, headed to the advanced one.

love that

“Shi—” Kai started to curse but stopped himself, clapping a hand over his mouth—heart hammered in his chest, not sure if it was your unexpected presence in the room that caused it—or the way your wide, startled eyes locked onto his in this small space.

adkfsadaghdkagd I luv them

He didn’t press for more. “Let’s get out of here.” His hand found yours. All you could do was stare at your entwined fingers. You can feel the tip of your ears go warm. He gave it a gentle squeeze before he stood and pulled you up from the cold, unforgiving floor.

Kaiiii oh my, my baby is so sweet

Kai is honestly the sweetest boy ever tfff I want to hug him

BEOMGYU UGHHH WANT HIM BAD

“She can’t hear you.” Taehyun explains, his tone softening. “She’s deaf, Kai,”

why is this so lkhasdfk UGH I can hear him so well

He doesn’t even know your name. But now, he wants to. More than anything, he wants the honour of knowing you.

RAYA OMG I LOVE YOU???? ADLHASDHADLHFVSLFHKALHFD

How does his laugh sound? Does it sound as pretty as he looks?

ehhhh oh well sometimes it sounds like he's been possesses

If something as small and silly as this could make you look at him like this, if it could bring you even the smallest bit of joy, then he thought to himself—he’d start doing it too.

he makes me feel so single it hurts

Beginners: Sign Language.

*throws myself on the table and screams* just so you know what you're doing to me raya :D

"Hi." His fingers shape the sign, hesitant, uncertain.

BABY UGHHH I LOVE HIM,, does he libe alone and is he o-pen mindeu?

"I like it," you sign.

hate to break it to you but im sure you didn't hear the music

"I need to kiss you right now or I'll go crazy."

this or nothing

pls tell me she runs away from that house to kai this is fucking disgusting

Kai was running.

💳💥💳💥💳💥 A MAN

his mother interrupts warmly, passing him a plate of pancakes and sausages.

pancakes and sausages is such a strange combination... I can see him eating that

Kai. Beomgyu. Taehyun.

THREE BAD BITCHES AT THE SAME DAMN TIME

I want Beomgyu, can I? It's so hot, I can see him pushing people aside just to get there

“Enough!” Beomgyu shouts.

my hot bf 🤭

Huening Kai, who learned to speak your language, so you won't have to spend your lifetime translating your soul.

I love this

THE SCIENTIST

pairing: popular hueningkai x deaf fem!reader

summary: Kai, who thrived in sound. Loud noise, vibrant conversations, the hum of life. And the quiet girl that sits prettily by the window—had begun to haunt his mind—stirring his heart the way only music ever had.

There must be some scientific explanation for this... right?

warnings: deaf reader, set in 1995 timeline, verbal!abuse, physical!abuse, family-trauma, ableism!(hate this word so much). side character!death, purely work of fiction. subtle implications of survivor guilt, high-school setting but everyone is 18 and above. everything written here is not a description of any idols. characters like chae-won, yun-jin etc are used. if any of the warnings above might be triggering for you, please proceed with caution if you decided to read. (let me know if i missed anything.)

smutwarnings: explicit!smut, pull-out method(pls don't),fingering!, missionary!, virginity!loss. MDNI.

wc: 21k

notes: inspired by twinkling watermelon. while I’ve done some research to better understand what it’s like to be deaf, there may still be inaccuracies. I did my best to approach the subject with care and respect. love knows no boundaries, hence I wrote this piece. a big thank you to my beta reader.

You were born with the inability to hear anything.

The world is nothing but a muted place for you. You never heard the birds singing at dawn, the hum of a bustling street, or the warmth in your parents’ voices—even your own. The sun might be painting the sky with its warm hues, but for you, it was just another day of deafening silence.

And then there was that one particular day.

You didn’t hear the crash, the scream of tyres, or the shattering glass. You didn’t hear your mother's voice, soft and trembling, as she held you close. Eyes brimming with tears, searching yours, face pale and streaked with blood.

You tried—desperately—to focus, to read the words forming on her lips. But your head spun, the world blurred, and all you could feel was her cold hands cradling your face. How can you? When you couldn't even hear your own pained whimpers from the glass that cut your skin. Strangers pulled you. They carried you away—away from her, away from her forever.

You’ve convinced yourself it must be punishment—a cruel reckoning from a life before this one.

Why else would your hearing be taken from you? Why else would the universe strip away the one person who truly saw you, who tried to understand you, even in your silence? What crime could have been so unforgivable that it warranted a lifetime of loss?

You stabbed at the food on your plate, pushing it around without taking a bite. Your stomach churned—not from hunger but from being trapped here. The room was filled with people who called themselves your family. Family—nothing more than a coincidence of living in the same house.

A sharp kick to your foot snapped you out of your thoughts. Your eyes met hers—your stepmother. Her perfectly practised smile didn’t reach her cold, calculating eyes.

She had arrived after the accident, ten years ago, when you were just eight. Back then, she was a tutor, brought in to give your father hope—a cruel, empty hope that you could still learn to speak. She had played her role well, and now she sat at the head of this table, the head of this house, ruling with her own. Her daughters—your stepsisters—sat on either side of her, mirroring her expressions, their eyes flickering toward you.

“Is the food not to your liking?” she asked—you read her lips, something you had to do out of necessity. Her stare burned into you.

You knew that look too well. Behave. Know your place.

And, as always, your father sat there, oblivious. His eyes never caught the disdain in hers, never lingered long enough to notice the cracks in the perfect picture she painted. Soon, he'll be back overseas for another business trip.

"Y/N?"

You hesitated, lifting your hand to sign, then you caught her eye—a sharp, pointed look. Your hand faltered, dropping back to your side.

Instead, you let out a hum. It wasn’t much, just a sound—a vibration you couldn’t hear but felt in your throat. She tilted her head slightly, giving a satisfied nod.

Your father pushed back his chair, standing with the same distracted air he always had. He walked over to you, placing a hand on your head, a gesture so routine it barely meant anything anymore. I’m going now. That was what it always meant.

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead briefly, before straightening up. His secretary hovered near the door. You watched his back as he walked out, leaving you staring from the table.

The day your mother left you, you lost... him too.

Seeing the doors close, you rose from your seat, but your stepmother was quicker, blocking your path. She loomed, her face a mask of forced patience. "Do I need to remind you again?" she said, "I said speak. No hand signs or whatever that is. That is not allowed here on this house. Do you want me to get mad at you again?"

Her glare felt like a physical force, pinning you to the spot. Unable to meet her eyes, you nodded weakly, looking at the floor. But she wasn’t done. She stepped closer, grabbing your shoulders in a firm, punishing grip. Her fingers dug into your skin as she shook you, her frustration spilling over.

Everyone watched. They just.. watched. The maids stood frozen in the corner, their expressions carefully blank, devoid of any emotion, too scared to intervene. Your stepsisters whispered to each other, their mocking smiles only adding to the humiliation.

You nodded again, your only escape was to comply. A soft hum escaped your lips, the sound she always, always insisted on, a token of submission that seemed to satisfy her. Her hands drop from your shoulders. The moment her grip released, you ran. Up the stairs, down the hall, into the only place that felt remotely yours—your room.

Once inside, you collapsed at your desk, leaning forward until your forehead pressed against the hard surface. The tears came quickly, spilling from your eyes as sobs racked your chest. They said crying was supposed to help, to lighten the burden somehow. But for you, it only made the weight heavier. You couldn’t even hear yourself cry. The silence made your pain feel endless.

In your despair, your arm knocked into something on the desk. You looked up in alarm, your heart skipping as you saw the mess. Paints, scattered and spilling, teetered dangerously close to the last drawing you had finished the night before.

Frantically, you reached out, your hands moving quickly to fix it. The thought of losing that small piece—felt unbearable. You righted the paints and saved the smudged edges of the paper, tears blurred your vision as you looked at the sketch.

A boy, in your uniform, with bangs that fell over his eyes and the back of his hair just shy of touching his collar, stood smiling softly. In his hands, he held a guitar, fingers resting gently on the strings.

Huening Kai has so much to be delighted for—his mom, his dad, his sweet sisters—but if he’s being frank, what he’s most thankful for is the day he picked up a guitar and found his love for it.

Music has been his refuge during both the small, frustrating setbacks—like failing a math test he poured hours into studying for or losing a manga he cherished so much and never finding it again—and the moments that cut far deeper.

It was there when his parents decided to end their marriage, leaving him struggling at first—to make sense of a family that no longer looked the same. It was there when Lea packed her things and left for college, that he felt the ache of her absence in a much quieter house. It was there when two of his bandmates graduated, their spots in the group left empty, a reminder of how quickly life can change.

Through music, he met people who became his closest friends, his second family—people he couldn’t imagine living without.

It all comes back to one truth: music doesn’t betray you. It’s always there, no matter what. It’s honest, a constant in a world that often feels anything but. It’s there when you need it most, wrapping you in its arms like an old friend who doesn’t need words to understand—even when you can’t find them yourself.

“Huening Kai!” a high-pitched voice calls out. He feels the soft thud of pillows hitting him and a sharp slap against the back of his thigh. Seriously? He had just fallen asleep.

“I’m going to eat all your food if you don’t get up,” the voice threatens. That gets his attention. Groaning, he blinks his eyes open, adjusting to the dim light of his room. Familiar sight of used guitars propped against the wall, the gleam of trophies, and the dark violet hue that wraps around the room.

He blinks. Oh. It’s his sister, Hiyyih.

Hiyyih stands there, a plate in one hand, an annoyed look plastered across her face. Kai can tell she’s been sent by their mom to rouse him, probably against her will. She takes a deliberate bite of scrambled eggs, her eyes narrowing as she gives him a pointed look before turning to leave.

Kai chuckles softly, shaking his head as he rubs his eyes. He stretches, muscles still heavy, and a frown tugs at his lips. Today is the first day of his last year in high school. The final chapter. Soobin and Yeonjun won’t be there anymore. He sighs, swinging his leg off the bed.

He runs a hand to his tousled hair, grabs a hoodie from the back of his chair and pulls it over his head. He heads towards the chatter—smell of eggs, bacon and pancakes makes his stomach growl.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," His mom greets him with a smile. His frame now towering over the kitchen shelves. He catches her watching him, a soft look in her eyes, and it makes him smile back.

"Morning," Kai mumbles, sits down at the table, reaching for a slice of toast.

Hiyyih watches him,"I thought I was going to have to eat all your food," she teases.

Kai rolls his eyes but grins. "You wish."

"Big day, huh? Last first day of school."

"Yeah. It feels… weird. Soobin and Yeonjun aren’t going to be there. Has Lea called yet?"

"She did. She's doing great so far, being a college girl." his mom answers, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sure you'll make even greater memories this year."

Kai smiles, appreciating her words. "Thanks, Mom."

Breakfast was filled with small talk, morning routines wrapping around them. Hiyyih busied herself packing her lunch, their mom helping her with a few finishing touches. Being just a year below Kai, their schedules almost mirrored each other, so they will go to school together.

"Kai, want me to sneak some of these into your lunch?" Hiyyih asked, voice dripping with exaggerated sweetness. He glanced over to see her holding up rice balls shaped like hearts and little animals, clearly proud of her handiwork.

"No, thank you," Kai replied, his tone flat but amused.

"Killjoy," she muttered, giving him a mock glare before returning to her task. He watches as she carefully places a tiny heart-shaped piece of seaweed to form a cat's nose. Something he did not understand.

Why go through all that effort?

The three of them make their way to their mom’s old car, a little worn but still reliable. Kai slips into the passenger seat, and Hiyyih climbs into the back, fussing with her hair even though she just brushed it a minute ago.

“Why don’t you let me drive?” Kai asks as the car starts rolling through the neighborhood. “That way you don’t have to keep going back and forth from school to home.”

His mom glances at him, a smile tugging at her lips. “Son, just because you turned 18 last summer doesn’t mean I’m handing over the keys. Besides,” she adds warmly, “I want to do this for you and Hiyyih.”

Kai leans back in his seat, nodding. She’s right. And anyway, it’s not like they head home together after school. His afternoons are spent in the band room while Hiyyih flits between her own plans, always busy with something or some girlfriends.

The car rolls up to the massive school grounds, Kai glances out the window. The sight of students milling around, the towering building ahead—it’s the same as always. He exhales and starts gathering his things.

He steps out, the crisp air latch on his face. With a quick ruffle of his hair, he pushes his longer bangs away from his eyes, though they fall back almost immediately. The strands at the back have grown out too, brushing the collar of his jacket. Slinging his backpack over his right shoulder and his guitar case over his left, he adjusts the weight and sets off toward the main building. Black—headphones rest around his neck.

He’s barely made it a few steps before he feels it—the stares. The whispers.

“Isn’t he one of the handsome seniors?” “The main guitarist of TXT.” — “He’s so tall. And cute.”

Kai shrugs it off, keeping his focus ahead. He’s used to it. Beside him, Hiyyih is already swept up by one of her friends, her laughter fading into the background after she’s pulled in another direction. His feet carried him down the well-worn hallway, a path he didn’t even have to think about. He could probably make the walk blindfolded. The band room.

When he reached the door, he grasped the doorknob and paused, a small smirk tugging at his lips as the low, bassline thrummed from inside. Peeking inside, the sight was just as he expected—home.

“Yo! Huening Kai!” Beomgyu’s voice rang out, bright and animated, as he set his bass down. His grin widened as he crossed the room in a few quick steps, pulling Kai into a hug before he could dodge. “How was your summer?”

Kai let out a soft laugh, prying Beomgyu’s arms off him. “It was fine. I went shopping with Taehyun a couple of times,” he said, making his way toward his guitar shelf. “Watch it.” he added, shooting Beomgyu a look as the other trailed dangerously close behind.

Beomgyu’s eyes landed on the guitar case Kai was carrying, and his grin turned sly. “What’s this? A new baby?”

“Yeah,” Kai replied, carefully unzipping the case and pulling the guitar out as if it were a fragile treasure. “Dad brought it back from abroad.”

Beomgyu snickered, reaching out to pinch Kai’s cheek. “You’re absolutely smitten, aren’t you?”

“Would you stop?” Kai swatted his hand away, but there was no hiding the small, proud smile tugging at his lips.

Before Beomgyu could tease him further, the door swung open again. Taehyun stepped inside, clipboard in hand, expression calm and no-nonsense as usual. “The new auditionees are here,” he announced, motioning to the two figures who followed him in.

“This is Heeseung,” Taehyun said, gesturing to the taller one. “He’s here to audition for piano. And Jay—he’s trying out for drums.”

Kai glanced at the newcomers, giving them a polite nod as Beomgyu rubbed his hands together, mischievous grin returning. "Alright," Beomgyu said, "let’s see what they’ve got."

The next hour flew by with skills checks, and it didn’t take long for them to see that Heeseung and Jay were solid. They were skilled, sharp, and seemed to fit right into the gaps left by Soobin and Yeonjun. It felt like they could pick up the left space and carry it forward without missing a beat.

Afterwards, Taehyun waved them off, heading to his next class, while Kai and Beomgyu walked in the opposite direction. They shared the same class, while Taehyun, ever the academic overachiever, headed to the advanced one.

“Only the brainiacs go there,” Beomgyu says, nudging Kai with his elbow.

Kai shook his head. Taehyun’s class was famous for being perfectly orderly—a stark contrast to theirs, which was noisy and chaotic on a good day. Their room always felt like the epicentre of the school’s commotion, every day.

The rest of the hours passed in a blur of introductions and meetings with their new advisors. And, of course, Kai’s least favourite math teacher made his return, every bit as strict as before.

Kai slouched in his chair, barely stifling a groan as the teacher droned on about equations and formulas. His mind drifted—Why do he even need this? Is he going to calculate the quadratic formula to buy chips at the grocery store? No.

He glanced down at his hands, the faint calluses on his fingertips from hours of guitar practice catching his eye. He’d much rather spend his time until his hands were sore than trying to decipher problems that made no sense to him.

Beomgyu leaned over, “I think your brain just checked out.”

Kai grinned, giving him a light shove. “Math checked me out first.”

The two of them exchanged quiet laughter, abruptly stopping when the teacher eyed them down.

By the time the last class wrapped up at 4 p.m., Kai found himself right back where he’d started his day: the band room. He and his four bandmates were deep into their after-school practice, bestowed in instruments, time slipped by unnoticed.

“Shoot,” Jay muttered, his gaze snapping to the wall clock. 7:30 p.m. Thirty minutes past the curfew for club rooms.

The realization hit them all at once. If the guards caught them here, it would mean one thing: detention.

“Pack up. Now,” Taehyun said, already slinging his bag over his shoulder. The others scrambled to gather their own gear.

Everyone slipped out into the dark, quiet halls, trying to move as silently as possible. The sound of their footsteps seemed louder.

“Hey! Who’s there?” A booming voice cut through, and suddenly, ta flash of light caught them mid-step.

“Go!” someone hissed, and chaos erupted. The guard started running toward them, and they bolted in every direction. Beomgyu let out a panicked squeal as he sprinted with his bass case clutched in one hand.

Kai didn’t have time to think—he just ran, heart pounded as his legs carried him blindly through the halls. He rounded a corner, only to see another guard up ahead. The group split, scattering.

He can’t get detention on the first day. His lungs burned as he pushed himself further. He kept running, not even sure where he was going, until his body… gave out.

Panting, he slumped near the wall, hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. He glanced over his shoulder and froze. A flashlight beam swept the hallway behind him. His pulse quickened as he realized he was at a dead end.

Frantically, his eyes darted around, then saw a room ahead. Kai’s brow furrowed at the sight of the mop propped against the door handle, clearly used as a makeshift way to keep it shut. Weird.

He hurried over, carefully removing the mop, and slipped inside. The room was pitch dark, save for the faint glow of light spilling in from the high windows. It cast eerie shadows on the walls, but he didn’t care. He just needed to hide.

Kai tried flipping the light switch, but nothing happened. Figures, he thought bitterly. He shut the door as quietly as he could, pressing his back against it to steady his breathing.

“Anyone there?” The sound of footsteps echoed outside. The guard’s flashlight swept across the small window in the door, and Kai instinctively slid to the floor, curling himself. He crawled, akwardly, backwards, toward the corner at the far end of the room, hoping to make himself as invisible as possible.

But something bumped against his foot. He whipped his head around, his breath catching in his throat. Sitting in the corner was someone else.

You.

Your legs were drawn up to your chest, wide eyes staring right back at him.

Chae-won, like you, is in her final year of high school, while Yun-jin is a year below. Your stepsisters.

When they first moved in, your twelve-year-old self had hoped you could be... friends. You had imagined shared secrets, laughter, and maybe even sisterly bonds. But the moment your father’s attention shifted elsewhere, it was clear that your stepmother’s whispers had already planted seeds of resentment in their hearts.

You couldn’t pinpoint exactly when it started. When did it all go wrong? Was it because you were the only biological daughter in the house? Because your father, despite his best intentions, never really connected with them either? Or was it simply because you couldn’t speak?

The inability to communicate fully, to bridge the gap between your world and theirs, seemed to widen the chasm. You often wondered if things would have been different if you could—if words could have built a room where silence had only erected walls.

After years of trying, of reaching out and being met with cold indifference or outright hostility, you gave up. You stopped hoping for understanding, stopped yearning for a connection that seemed impossible. The effort of trying to be part of their society when they wanted nothing to do with yours had only broken your heart.

"Watch where you're going, fucking weirdo," Chae-won sneers, her foot juts out, sending you stumbling. The water bucket you were carrying—filled with the murky grey water of used paintbrushes—tips forward, dousing your chest. You don’t hear the laughter, but you can feel it, buzzing around you in the painting room.

You look up, your gaze darts to Yun-jin. She leans against the counter, arms crossed, her painted red lips curved into a smug smirk. She raises an eyebrow, as if daring you to do something about it.

You’re in your school's art room, surrounded by the faint smell of turpentine and dried paint. Art has always been your peace. But your love for it didn’t go unnoticed by your stepmother.

It wasn’t long before she pushed her daughters into it too. You’re not sure if it was to force some kind of twisted togetherness between you, or if it was her way of ensuring they would always outshine you, in everything—even this.

You push yourself up, your clothes clinging to your body, damp. Your eyes narrow as you stare at Chae-won. You want to tell her off, to demand an apology, to ask why she does this—

"Cat got your tongue?" she taunts, her lips curl into a cruel grin. "Oh, wait. You can’t speak. Poor girl. That’s what you get for being such an attention seeker."

Your breath hitches as your brows knit in fury. You can’t reply with words, but actions—actions—will do just fine.

As she turns to leave, you grab her hair, yanking it back with all the frustration and hurt bottled up. She shrieks, spinning around to claw at you, and soon you’re both tangled in a fierce struggle.

The others jump in.

Someone grabs your arm, wrenching it back. Another slaps you hard across the face, the sting reverberating through your skull. A foot connects with your leg, sending you buckling. You hit the ground again, tasting blood on your lips as they shove you down.

Your things are heartlessly thrown at you—your bag, your books, your sketchpad—hitting you like stones. Footsteps retreating, laughter echoing in their faces. They close the door before you can even blink.

You force yourself to your feet, every movement a struggle against the ache in your body. You stumble to the door, testing the handle. It doesn’t budge. Of course, it doesn’t. They’ve done this before.

Silence.

You sink back down onto the hard floor, your chest heaving as tears spill freely down your cheeks. Trembling hands reach up to the corner of your lips, fingers brushing the split skin. The sting makes you wince.

The clock ticks on, indifferent. 4:50 p.m.

You take a shuddering breath and wipe your tears with unsteady hands. You smooth your hair, trying to tame the mess they made of it. With a quick swipe, you clear the blood from your mouth, leaving behind only the faint metallic taste.

All you can do now is wait. Alone—praying—that someone will come and find you in this empty room.

What you didn’t expect was that someone would come—three hours later, long after the sun had set. You’d been staring at the door for so long that when it finally creaked open, you were already halfway to your feet.

But then you froze.

It’s him.

Of all people, it’s him.

You swallowed the surprise in your throat, pulse-quickening as you watched him slip inside, crouching low, moving backward like he was avoiding something.

He was hiding. From what, you didn’t know—not until a beam of light swept across the windows above, brushing against the walls like a searching hand. Your body stiffened, instinct telling you to stay still.

You weren’t sure you could.

When his gaze finally landed on you, the shock in his expression was unmistakable—and you knew yours mirrored his. Suspended in that shared disbelief.

“Quiet, please,” his lips shaped the words. His hand rose, a single finger pressing against his mouth. The dim light barely reached him, but you caught the faint pink of his lips.

Minutes passed. Neither of you spoke, just staring at each other like you were both trying to figure out something. He shifted, his eyes widening in alarm.

“B-blood,” he stammered, pointing at your forehead.

Your hand shot up instinctively, fingers brushing against the skin there. When you pulled it back, you saw it—smudges of red streaking your fingertips.

He's as startled as you, he tapped his chest, like he was trying to centre himself, and quickly rummaged through his pocket. He pulled out a handkerchief, holding it out to you with a slightly trembling hand.

You didn’t take it. You couldn’t. It must be the ache in your bones, the hunger in your stomach, the blood still fresh on your hands—or maybe... your mind was still catching up to the fact that he was here, standing this close to you.

When you didn’t move, he took another step forward, hesitating only briefly before carefully pressing the cloth to your forehead. His touch was cautious, you could feel the warmth of his hand through the fabric.

From this close, you could smell him. Clean, with a faint trace of musk, and something sweet underneath. You hated how your chest tightened because of it.

“What happened? Why are you here?” he asked, his fingers were steady as he wiped the blood from your skin. His brow furrowed as he inspected the small cut, his concern written plainly on his face. “Did someone lock you in?”

You shook your head, hesitant. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, so you let your gaze fall somewhere—anywhere—but on his eyes.

He didn’t press for more. “Let’s get out of here.”

His hand found yours. All you could do was stare at your entwined fingers. You can feel the tip of your ears go warm. He gave it a gentle squeeze before he stood and pulled you up from the cold, unforgiving floor.

The boy who had only ever been a distant figure to you. The boy you’d sketched on countless pages, the one whose smile crinkled his eyes so perfectly it made your chest ache. The boy you were sure didn’t even know you existed.

He pulls you out of this suffocating room. His tall, sure figure led, guiding you as you ran. Every so often, he glances back, his eyes searching yours and for a fleeting moment, you glance down and see your shadows on the wall—together. His hands never let go of yours until you weren't in the dark anymore.

Huening Kai.

Kai slouches in his seat, letting out another heavy sigh. His body’s in class, sure, but his mind? It’s stuck somewhere else—somewhere back last night.

He can’t stop thinking about you. And he's not sure why.

You both made it out of the school grounds safely, and he even helped you gather your things from your locker. He stood there awkwardly, watching when you downed a bottle of water in one long gulp like your life depended on it. His suspicions were confirmed—someone did lock you in that room.

How long had you waited, sitting there in the dark? His stomach churned at the thought. What if he hadn’t been hiding that way? What if no one had found you? The idea of you spending the entire night in that empty space until a teacher or janitor happened upon you made his heart race. It’s… eating him alive.

But the thing that gets him, the part he can’t stop replaying, is how… quiet you were. No explanations, no complaints—just a nod here and there, avoiding his eyes the whole time. Did he cross a line? Say something wrong? Overstep somehow? Did he offend you without realizing? Or worse—do you just not like him?

He rubs the back of his neck. And yet, despite all that, he also can’t stop thinking about how your eyes seem soft under the moonlight, making them look so—

“Dude.” Beomgyu’s voice cuts, “What’s with the brooding? Bell rang.”

Kai glances around the classroom. Almost empty. “Oh. Right. Nothing,” he mumbles, grabbing his bag.

Beomgyu narrows his eyes. “You’ve been sulking like my dog when I don’t share my snacks.”

Kai remained silent, pouting and followed Beomgyu out of the classroom. It’s lunch now, and as usual, they’re headed to meet Taehyun at the cafeteria. Heeseung and Jay will probably join them too.

Walking through the hall, Kai forces a polite smile at the people who greet him. Beomgyu, on the other hand, is his usual exuberant self, grinning and dapping up every other guy who greets him as they pass.

The two make their way into the cafeteria, people stared. They walk toward their usual spot, a table near the centre of the room. No one ever sits there. Everyone knows—it’s their table. Yeonjun made that mark. It's an unspoken rule.

Kai drops into his seat, setting his bag down and pulling out his packed lunch. The cafeteria food doesn’t really do it, not when his mom’s food is always better.

“What do you have?” Beomgyu asks, leaning over.

“Tempura and some beef,” Kai replies, popping a piece of shrimp into his mouth.

“Give me some,” Beomgyu demands, already reaching for his chopsticks. Kai rolls his eyes but slides the container a little closer, watching as Beomgyu happily steals a piece.

Taehyun walks in, weaving the crowded tables with his usual stride. “You're early,” he greets, his seat across from them. "That's a record."

Kai’s eyes flick toward the entrance, catching sight of you slipping. You moved slowly, clutching your tumbler. You keep your head low, glancing around as if to make sure no one’s watching. Kai stands, pushing his chair back abruptly. He can't miss this chance.

Beomgyu pauses mid-bite, raising an eyebrow. “What’re you doing?”

Taehyun gives him a sideways glance. “Kai?” Kai ignored them. He just heads toward you.

“Hey,” he calls out, but you don’t turn. Hesitating for only a second, he gently taps your shoulder.

You whirl around. Your grip tightens on the water bottle, and your eyes widen slightly when you realise it’s him. Around you, a few people glance over.

“Hey,” he says again, softer this time. “How’s your head?” He tilts his own slightly, trying to catch a glimpse of the bandaid peeking out near your hairline. “That looks better,” he murmurs.

“Would you like to join us for lunch?” He points behind him toward his table when you don't answer, where Beomgyu and Taehyun are undoubtedly watching. As he expected, you shake your head quickly, almost instinctively, avoiding his eyes.

The small rejection stings more than it should. Kai nods, trying to hide his disappointment. “Alright,” he mutters. Then, before he can second-guess himself, he gently takes the tumbler from your hands.

He heads to the water station, fills it to the brim, screws the cap on tightly, and hands it back to you. “Here,” he says simply. It's small. But he wanted to do it for you.

You nod, a small, polite gesture, and turn to leave without a word or a backward glance.

Kai watches you, chest tight. When he trudges back to his table, Beomgyu’s smirk is already waiting for him.

“What was that about?” Taehyun asks, leaning forward.

“I was just checking on her,” Kai mumbles, slumping into his seat. “She never talks to me. I don’t get it.”

Taehyun’s gaze sharpens, and he studies Kai for a moment before letting out a quiet sigh. “She can’t,” he finally says, voice calm but firm.

Kai blinks, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

“She can’t hear you.” Taehyun explains, his tone softening. “She’s deaf, Kai,”

Taehyun filled Kai in, sharing what he knew about you.

Kai was surprised to learn that you were in the same advanced class. As always, you kept everything to yourself. Taehyun admitted he had tried reaching out to you before—once or twice—but even he hadn’t gotten far.

“She’s… just quiet,” Taehyun said with a shrug. “Not just because she’s deaf, either. I’ve tried writing things down for her, you know? Like, in a notebook, to make it easier. But she only ever gives one-word answers. A ‘yes’ here, a ‘no’ there.” He sighed, “It’s hard to get through to her.”

Kai leaned back in his seat, dragging a hand through his hair. Guilt tugged at him. He’d been so quick to assume you were ignoring him, brushing him off on purpose. But now?

Now, he couldn’t stop imagining what it must have been like for you that night. Locked, no way to call for help, no way to know if anyone was coming. Alone. Not even the sounds of footsteps approaching to give you hope.

He swallowed hard, his chest tightening. Would he have been able to handle that? Sitting there for hours, completely cut off from the world? Probably not. He’d have broken down.

That's why Kai finds himself walking in the opposite direction of his classroom, away from Beomgyu’s puzzled stare. He doesn’t look back. His feet carry him toward where Taehyun had gone—toward where he knows you are.

The hallway buzzes with life. Groups of students linger outside classrooms, laughing and chatting, their voices blending into the hour of lunch break. A few glance his way as he passes, curiosity in their eyes.

Kai’s steps slow as he approaches the room. The back entrance gives him a clear view inside. His eyes scan the rows of desks. Someone calls his name. Heads turn, smiles and greetings thrown his way.

But not yours.

You’re sitting in the front row, by the window, farthest from where he stands. The sunlight filters through the glass, casting a soft glow over you. There’s a sketchbook open on your desk, the pages large and blank except for the lines you’re drawing with practised ease. The way your hand moves—purposeful—tells him this is second nature to you.

You’re so focused, so completely lost, that you don’t notice the subtle breeze dancing through the window. It catches your hair, making it sway just enough to draw his attention.

He watches as you pause, tucking the stray strands behind your ear before continuing with your sketch. You look just like him whenever he's with his guitar. Kai feels something tighten in his chest.

You look beautiful.

He doesn’t even know your name. But now, he wants to. More than anything, he wants the honour of knowing you.

It’s free time now, and the history teacher had just left. Most of the class scattered—some heading out to the grounds, others roaming the halls for a little fun. But you stayed. You always stayed.

The thought of running into your stepsisters made your stomach turn. They acted so innocent the night you came home, as if they had nothing to do with your wound. Your stepmother, of course, scolded you for being late, hurling her usual cutting remarks, but she didn’t dig any deeper. Sometimes you wondered if she knew—if she already suspected it was her daughters who had done it and simply chose to stay oblivious.

You sighed, flipping another page of your book, trying to block out the noise in your head.

The sudden sight of a chair being pulled up in front of your desk jolted you. You look up.

Huening Kai.

He was sitting right there, a small, easy smile on his face. His eyes held a kind of softness you weren’t used to. And then, he waved.

Your eyes widened in surprise, and instinctively, you turned your head to check if he was talking to someone else. Surely, this wasn’t for you. But the room was nearly empty. The only other person was fast asleep at the back.

Kai watches as you glance around nervously, he might have thought how beautiful you were from afar, but sitting this close now—you’re breathtaking.

When your eyes meet his again, questioning, he clears his throat and speaks. “Hi.”

You nod, silent—attentive. His voice softens, deliberate as he says the next words slowly, “Can I have your name?”

It takes a moment for the meaning to click, and then you’re reaching for your bag, fingers fumbling slightly as you pull out a notebook—the one you use to communicate.

Kai watches as you flip through the pages, landing on a blank one. You jot something down quickly and then turn it toward him.

Y/N.

He reads it, and a smile breaks across his face, his dimple appearing. You notice for the first time the delicate constellation of beauty marks scattered across his skin. How it suits him.

“Y/N,” he repeats, your name rolling off his tongue like he’s trying it out for the first time. His gaze lifts to meet yours. “That’s a pretty name.”

The compliment catches you off guard, and heat rises to your cheeks. You look away—embarrassed. His fingers tap lightly on your desk, drawing your attention back.

“How are you?” he asks.

You write, I’m okay.

Kai reads it, his brows furrowing slightly. Without hesitation, he leans in, his voice low but insistent. “Does anyone bother you? You know… when I found you that night. That wasn’t an accident, was it?”

You stare at him, lips parting slightly in surprise. Kai thinks for a moment that maybe you didn’t catch what he said. But then, slowly, you lift your pen: Why?

Just as he opens his mouth to explain, you’re already writing again.

Is it because you pity me? You’re looking at him now—directly, unflinchingly.

He doesn't want you to misunderstand anything. So he gently takes the pen from your hand, his fingers brushing yours for a moment. Without saying a word, he leans down and writes his response in your notebook.

Because I want to be your friend...

Your breath catches as you read his words. He adds another line beneath it, the letters a little bolder this time.

And because no one deserves what happened to you.

Kai looks at you then, his expression earnest and open, waiting. The notebook sits between you, and the sound of a new bridge forming in the back of your mind.

When you didn't write anything back, he glances down and picks up the pen again, his handwriting slow and deliberate.

By the way, my name is—

Before he can finish, you reach forward, your hand brushing his ever so slightly making him freeze. You write, finishing it for him.

Kai. Right?

The faintest flicker of surprise crosses his face when he sees what you’ve written. His lips twitch into a small smile, trying his hardest not to let out a wide grin.

You look up, meeting his gaze again, and shrug lightly as if to say, Of course, I know who you are.

Everybody knows you.

The words hang there on the page, Kai blinks, processing your response, and then lets out a soft laugh, his shoulders shaking gently, lips slightly apart.

You watch him, a strange ache tugs at your chest. You wonder, How does his laugh sound? Does it sound as pretty as he looks? Now, you're wishing for something you’ve trained yourself not to want—a window into the world you’ve long been shut out of.

It'll be nice to hear his laugh.

The two of you spent the rest of your free time in that same spot. You talked—or rather, wrote—filling the pages of your notebook with conversation. He was surprisingly talkative, and before you knew it, you'd used up two blank pages. When the conversation naturally faded, you went back to your book, but this time, you pulled another one from your bag and handed it to Kai. He took it with a small smile and began to read as well.

There you were, two students, sitting across from each other, lost in your own worlds yet somehow sharing the same one. The room felt warmer, leaving just the two of you in the bubble. You were aware of the flush in your cheeks, the way it stubbornly lingered, but you didn’t mind.

You snapped out of your thoughts when you noticed classmates filtering back into the room. Their steps slowed as they took in the scene—Kai, the school’s band guitarist, slouched in front of your desk, reading quietly across from you, the school's outcast. The deaf girl. His long legs stretched out under the desk, almost touching yours.

He didn’t bother to look up. He didn’t greet them or acknowledge the weight of their stares. Instead, his eyes stayed on the page, though every now and then, they flickered back to you. Each time, he’d give you that same small, reassuring smile—the one that made your heart flutter.

He snapped out of it when your foot gently nudged his leg. The classroom was full now, with students bustling back to their seats, most kept stealing glances at Kai. Their eyes darted back and forth, curiosity written all over their faces, as if trying to make sense of why he was here with you.

Out of the corner, you saw Taehyun make his way over. You couldn’t catch their conversation—Taehyun’s body was turned slightly away—but it was clear from his expression that he was asking why Kai was here. Kai gave him a brief nod, and after a moment, Taehyun returned to his seat, still throwing occasional glances in your direction.

You glanced at the clock. Five minutes left of free time. Before you could process it, you felt a light tap on your shoulder. Kai stood, waving a quick goodbye. He slid his hands into his pockets, all eyes on him as he walked out.

He had just spent his entire free time here. Here, with you.

You swallowed hard, your heart thudding in your chest. Your gaze drifted down the newly etched words he left in your notebook.

See you later :>

You found yourself smiling at nothing, the memory of your afternoon with Kai playing over and over in your mind. Back home now, the evening settling around you, it felt.. warm.

With a watering can in hand, you moved through the small garden—your mother’s garden. It was one of the few things left untouched by your stepmother, a living memory of the woman who once nurtured it with care. What had started as a modest patch of green had grown into something more of a sanctuary.

Your gaze fell on the cornflowers nearby, their vivid blue seeming to shine a little brighter today. Maybe it was the light, or maybe it was the joy still bubbling in your chest, making everything around you seem more… alive, more beautiful. You crouched, fingers brushing gently against the petals, and it felt like your mother was right there, as if she, too, could sense the happiness blooming inside you.

Your thoughts were abruptly cut off by an icy cascade of water, soaking you from head to toe. The coldness stole your breath, bit into your skin and you let out a shriek, the shock more than you could bear. Spinning around, you found Chae-won standing there, a smug grin plastered on her face, the empty bucket tossed carelessly to the side. Behind her, Yun-jin stood with her arms crossed, her glare sharp.

"Are you a witch now, too?" Chae-won sneered, her voice dripping with mockery. Her eyes locked onto yours, glinting with cruel satisfaction. "For someone who's deaf, you're pretty damn loud."

Before you could react, she grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking you down with a force that sent you stumbling. Your knees hit the ground hard, the sting of the impact mixing with the cold that seeped into your clothes. You trembled, pain and humiliation washing over you.

"Kai? What did you say to him?" Chae-won continued. "What the fuck did you say to make him hang out with trash like you?"

Tears welled up in your eyes. You tried to stand, but Chae-won shoved you back down, making you cry out in frustration. You reached for her, desperate to defend yourself, but Yun-jin stepped in, pulling Chae-won away, smirking and enjoying your helplessness.

Chae-won then dusted off her shirt as if your touch had soiled her, letting out an exaggerated huff. "You better not think about—"

Her threat was cut short by the arrival of your stepmother. "Chae-won," She approached, her eyes sweeping over your sodden form with a detached disapproval. "Her father might come home today."

That was enough to make Chae-won and Yun-jin roll their eyes, angrily retreating into the house, but not before casting you one last withering glare.

Your stepmother's gaze lingered on the garden, then flicked back to you, her expression unreadable. "Fix yourself," she said coldly before turning away, following her daughters inside, as if she just didn't witness them assault you.

You wiped your tears with the back of your hand. The cold water seeped into your skin, its touch biting deep, while the chill of the night’s wind wrapped around you, amplifying the discomfort.

When—when—would they ever stop? When would they finally fail to crush anything close to the hope you dared to feel? You swallowed hard, heart hurt when you saw one of the cornflowers crushed, the delicate blue petals were bent and broken, scattered across the dirt like they didn’t matter.

Just like what they did to you.

Kai thrummed his guitar, his head bobbing in time with the beat as Jay kept pace on the drums. A wide grin spread across his face as he glanced at Jay, impressed. That guy could really play.

The upcoming festival had everyone excited, especially since their band was set to perform. It wasn’t just their idea; the school had practically begged them to be part of the lineup. Naturally, everyone agreed.

As the final song ended, Kai slung his guitar strap off and gave Heeseung and Jay playful pats on the back. “Good session,” he said, voice light. Taehyun had already disappeared for some student council meeting, and Beomgyu crouched near the amp, fiddling with the cables.

As Heeseung and Jay left the practice room, Beomgyu glanced up, a sly smirk tugging at his lips. “So… you caused quite a stir yesterday, huh.”

Kai paused, brow furrowing. “What are you talking about?”

Beomgyu leaned back, his arms crossed over his chest. “Everyone’s talking about you and… the deaf girl. How you were hanging out with her.”

Kai’s hand stilled on his guitar case. “Don’t call her that,” he said sharply, “She has a name.”

Beomgyu blinked, taken aback by the intensity of the glare Kai shot him. He raised his hands in mock surrender, smirk faltering. “Whoa, okay. Chill, man. That was disrespectful of me. I'm sorry.” Kai didn’t respond, his focus shifting back to securing his guitar. The other could tell he was still irritated.

“So,” Beomgyu's tone was now more careful. “What’s her name?”

Kai hesitated, his fingers pausing over the latch of the case. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter, “Y/N.”

Beomgyu caught it—the way Kai’s whole demeanour shifted, softening just at the mention of your name. He grinned knowingly, a teasing glint in his eye.

“Oh, man, you’ve got it bad, huh?” Kai didn’t answer, but the way he bit his lip, was enough. Beomgyu chuckled, shaking his head as he stood. “You’re in deep, dude.”

The two of them walked out of the band room, sunlight streaming across the school grounds as they headed toward their next class. Kai’s guitar hung over his back, his steps light with anticipation. He had a plan for today’s free time—he was going to show it to you.

Then he froze.

“Why’d you stop?” Beomgyu asked, frowning at his friend’s sudden halt.

Kai’s gaze was locked on you. You were walking across the yard, a book clutched in your hand. But something was off. Your steps were uneven, almost shaky, like you were struggling to keep your balance. His chest tightened as he noticed you blink rapidly, expression dazed.

A cold knot of worry tightened in Kai’s chest.

Kai bolted toward you, his long strides eating up the distance between you in moments. The world around him blurred—voices, students, the sun—all of it drowned out by the urgency pounding in his chest. He reached you just as your legs gave up. You fell into his arms.

“Hey, hey,” he murmured, voice shaking. His hand settled on your face, and the heat of your skin sent alarm bells ringing in his mind. Scorching hot. A fever.

Your eyes fluttered closed, forehead creased, and face was pale. Too pale.

“What the hell happened?” Beomgyu’s voice came from somewhere behind him, but Kai barely registered it. "Is she okay?"

Without thinking, Kai shrugged off his guitar, letting it drop carelessly to the ground. “Help me,” he said quickly, his voice tight. He grabbed your arm, trying to shift your weight. Beomgyu caught on immediately, stepping forward to assist.

Together, they managed to lift you onto Kai’s back. His arms hooked under your legs, his grip firm but gentle as he adjusted you. “Hold on,” With you securely on his back, Kai broke into a run, his breath coming in quick.

“Slow down, man! You’re gonna trip!” Beomgyu followed close behind, clutching the guitar Kai had abandoned without a second thought—because of you.

The school nurse moved quickly, her practiced hands checking your temperature and administering care as Kai stepped back, his chest still heaving from the run. He stood there, hands on his hips, watching you, his heart refusing to slow down. Beomgyu excused himself, talks about getting water, leaving Kai alone.

His eyes fell on the notebook you had been clutching, which fell on the floor. He reached for it carelessly—a loose page slipped free, back to the floor. He crouched to pick it up, and the moment he turned it over, his breath caught.

It was a sketch. Of him.

Every detail was there, drawn with painstaking precision—the dusting of freckles on his cheeks, small moles he often forgot about, his jawline, his hair. The lines were sure, as though you had poured hours into capturing him just… right.

His throat tightened as he stared, unable to tear his eyes away. Was this really how you saw him?

Kai swallowed hard, and glanced at the rest of the page. Small sketches of cats bordered the margins, their playful forms lightening the otherwise focused artwork. A soft smile enters his lips when his eyes also land on your pen, its barrel adorned with tiny cat designs. His fingers touch the paper, careful not to smudge your work.

You're perfect, he thought, the words echoing in his head, shouting like a whispered confession. How could someone be so perfect?

Kai had to leave you at the clinic to attend classes.

He hesitated, lingering by the door, his eyes darting back to your still form on the cot. You were fast asleep, but the colour slowly returned to your cheeks. He wanted to stay, to make sure you were okay, but he knew he couldn’t. With a defeated sigh, he left. And you were gone when he returned.

"Someone came to fetch her," the nurse explained when he asked. He's still bothered. You were home now, he told himself, safe and resting. Right?

The next morning came, he sat at the kitchen counter. What he wanted to do first thing, was to see you. "Hiyyih,"

She glanced at him over her shoulder, her brow raised. "Yeah?"

"Can you, uh… can you make my lunch today?" Hiyyih stopped, turning fully to face him. "What? But I always make your lunch."

Kai shifted in his seat, awkwardly. "I mean… could you make it like yours?"

"Like mine? What do you mean, like mine?"

Kai hesitated, the words sticking in his throat. Finally, he blurted out, "The cat rice balls. Can you add those?" There was silence as Hiyyih stared at him, her lips tight. Then, she broke into a slow, knowing smirk. "Cat rice balls, huh?"

Kai felt the heat up his neck, and he quickly averted his stare. "Just—just make them, okay?" He groaned, dropping his head onto the counter.

Hiyyih burst out laughing, her teasing ringing through. Oh, he's sure. This was going to haunt him for days.

Kai spent the day in restless anticipation, his usual self replaced with something far more jittery. Even his friends couldn’t ignore it. He fidgeted during class, zoned out at times, and seemed to barely hear what anyone was saying.

It was all because of you.

When he saw Taehyun at band practice earlier, the first words out of his mouth weren’t about music. “Is she coming today?”

Taehyun had nodded, confirming you were attending class, and Kai had been trying—and failing—to calm his racing thoughts ever since. By lunchtime, the decision was made. He slung his bag over his shoulder, he turned to Beomgyu. "I’m skipping the cafeteria today."

Beomgyu just gave him a knowing look, his smirk light, teasing. "Didn’t think you needed to explain," he points out. "Your face already did."

Kai didn’t even bother denying it. Instead, he took a steadying breath and headed toward the one place he knew he’d find you. Your classroom.

His steps slowed when he spotted you inside, seated at your desk. The heaviness in his chest lifts. You were pulling open a lunch box, carefully arranging everything, your expression calm and focused.

He stepped inside, and when he was almost infront of you, you glanced up, your eyes widening slightly when you saw him.

"Hi," Kai said, a small, nervous smile sitting on his lips. You blinked, surprised, but a faint smile broke through as you set your chopsticks down.

He scratched the back of his neck, suddenly feeling warm under your gaze. "I, uh… I figured I’d check on you. Make sure you’re okay, you know… after the other day."

You nod, reaching for your notebook to write a reply, but Kai gently stopped you with a small shake of his hand. “You should eat first, okay?” he said softly, his lips forming the words carefully for you to read.

Your response was simple—a quick thumbs-up—but it was enough to make a boyish grin spread across his face.

Pulling out a chair, Kai sat across from you, his movements just a little nervous, though he tried to hide it. He set his lunchbox on the table, the bright cat decorations catching your eye. It's hard to really miss how much effort had gone into it—cat-shaped rice balls, tiny details, and colourful accents that screamed effort.

Kai caught your expression. "Hiyyih made it," he admitted. What he didn’t mention was how he’d spent an entire morning persuading her to make it perfect, offering bribes, doing her chores, and enduring her teasing, all just to get her to agree.

He opened the lid and carefully moved a portion of the food into your lunchbox. "Here," he said, nudging it toward you.

You glanced at him in surprise, then back at the food, your lips parting slightly before they curved into a smile—a real smile. Not the polite, hesitant ones you used to give him, but a full, bright smile. It reached your eyes, crinkling them at the corners.

Kai froze for a moment, his breath catching in his throat. You’d smiled at him before, but not... like this.

He had never quite understood why his sister went to such lengths with these little creations—why she got up before sunrise to shape rice into animals or why her mood seemed to brighten whenever someone praised her work. But now, watching the way your face softened, the way your smile seemed to linger longer than usual, it all started to make sense.

If something as small and silly as this could make you look at him like this, if it could bring you even the smallest bit of joy, then he thought to himself—he’d start doing it too.

Swallowing, he picked up his chopsticks, forcing himself to eat even as his appetite felt oddly… irrelevant. He stole glances, and it struck him how happy you looked. The memory of when he’d first met you flashed in his mind, alone, wounded and withdrawn. And yet, here you were now.

His stomach fluttered, suddenly feeling full—not from the meal but from something that only your smile seemed to give.

After lunch, Kai didn’t get the chance to spend his free time with you. Beomgyu practically dragged him to practice, which he didn’t resist—especially since seeing you healthy and smiling had already lifted his spirits. His energy during practice was unmatched, his fingers flying over the guitar strings with a renewed vigour. For once, it felt effortless, like his heart was finally in sync with the music again.

When the day wound down, he found himself waiting by the school gates. A few students greeted him as they passed, and he returned their smiles politely, though his attention remained elsewhere. His heart leapt the moment he spotted you walking toward him, your steps purposeful yet light. His lips curved into a small smirk before he could help it.

"I wanted to see you before you went home," he said softly.

Your smile in response made his chest tighten, and you pulled a small notepad and pen from your pocket. After a brief moment of scribbling, you held it up for him to read:

Thank you for everything, Kai.

The simple words hit him harder than he expected, and a warm smile tugged at his lips. “You waiting for your sisters here?” he asked, but as soon as he mentioned them, your smile faltered slightly, and something shifted in your expression.

He remembered Taehyun mentioning that you had two sisters at school, but nothing beyond that. He didn’t press. All he knew was that you usually arrived and left together in the same car.

You scribbled another note. They went home early. Shopping, I think.

Kai’s brows furrowed slightly. Why didn’t they wait for you? Before he could ask, you were already writing your next reply.

I’ll take the bus today.

“Let me take you home,” he said, leaving no room for argument.

The bus was packed, and you followed Kai closely as he led the way. He glanced back, his eyes searching for something until they landed on an empty window seat. With a small nudge of his shoulder, he gestured for you to take it.

Sliding into the seat, you couldn’t help but notice how his arm brushed against yours as he stood beside you, gripping the rail overhead. He leaned down slightly, reaching for the notepad in your hands. His handwriting was a little crooked, he had written quickly, but his message was clear:

Are you okay?

You nodded and took the pen to write your response. Yes.

Satisfied, he smiled. He reaches out, hooking his pinky finger to yours. It stays there, throughout the ride. One that you wished that didn't have to end.

Kai’s eyes widened when you gestured toward your home.

Sure, his own house was comfortable—his family could provide everything he needed—but this? This was on another level. Massive gates, the sprawling estate beyond them, the kind of place that practically screamed wealth, grand estate that made him feel like he’d stepped onto the set of a drama. His thoughts stumbled over themselves as the realization hit: you were a chaebol.

And yet, the thought lingered in his mind: how could they leave you to manage on your own, just because your sisters decided to go out? The question sat uncomfortably in his chest, though he kept it to himself.

You turned to him, drawing his attention back to you. Standing there, you looked up at him, your figure small against his tall, broad frame. He looked so effortlessly handsome it made your chest ache. You wished, fleetingly, to reach out and run your fingers through those dark locks, to feel their texture beneath your hands. He had done so much for you today—more than you could put into words.

See you later?

Kai read it, his lips quirking into a gentle smile.“Go inside,” he said, tapping your head softly. “See you later.”

As you turned and walked toward the house, he stayed rooted to the spot, watching your retreating figure until you disappeared through the gates. He let out a quiet breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, his heart beating steadily against his ribs.

He could do this every day, he thought. Waiting for you, walking you home, making sure you were safe. He wanted to do this every day, however many days, as long as you’d let him.

After sending you home, Kai steps into a familiar bookstore, and the scent of old paper hits his face.

The owner greets him, casually mentioning the new volume of Slam Dunk just released, but Kai doesn’t even register the words. He’s already moving past, heading toward the back of the store where the shelves are less familiar.

He stops in front of a section—far away from the music books, the theory guides, and mangas. He picks it up.

Beginners: Sign Language.

You closed the door behind you, the weight in your chest heavier than it should’ve been. Dinner was supposed to be a happy time, right? Eating with your family, sharing moments. But it never felt like that for you. Not in this house.

Your eyes caught the sight of the fax machine on the side table, a piece of paper hanging loosely from the tray. You walk over, your steps slow, uncertain. Only two people know your number: your dad, and… Kai. You grabbed the paper, the handwriting unmistakable.

Come out. Will be there in 20 mins. —Kai.

Your breath caught. Dinner had taken longer than that. You scrambled to the window, heart pounding, and there he was—a silhouette against the dim streetlights, a mess of dark hair leaning casually against the gate.

You didn’t hesitate. Grabbing your pen and notepad from the desk, you ran. The startled looks of the housemaids blurred past you, and even the sharp, judgmental gaze of your stepmother from the couch—teacup poised mid-sip—couldn’t stop you. She doesn’t matter right now. Nothing does but getting to him.

You burst through the front gates, your eyes locking with his. His face breaks into a soft, immediate smile when he sees you, the sight of you in your loose shirt and pyjamas makes his heart skip a beat.

You raise your notepad, writing quickly, then holding it up for him to see. What are you doing here?

You reach for your notepad and pen, the confusion evident on your face as you extend them toward him. But instead of taking them, his hands move, and the world around you seems to pause.

"Hi." His fingers shape the sign, hesitant, uncertain. Your heart stumbles as you watch his hand move again, spelling out your name, letter by letter, in sign language. It’s slow, almost clumsy, but every movement is intentional. He’s trying, and it sends your heart racing.

"How was your—" He falters mid-sign, his hands falling to his sides. You watch as he digs into his pocket, pulling out a small book. The title catches your eye, and your chest tightens. He scratches the back of his neck, looking at you with an embarrassed sort of determination as he mouths, Wait.

And then he tries again, repeating the signs, "How was your dinner?" His movements are a little smoother this time. The question lingers in the space between you, and you feel your throat tighten as tears prick at the corners of your eyes. It feels like you can hear—his voice.

Your body moves before you can think. You step forward and wrap your arms around his neck. Your head presses against his chest, and you feel the slight hitch in his breath before his arms slide around your waist, holding you close. His warmth steadies you as a single tear slips free, trailing down your cheek.

No one had ever done this for you before. No one had ever tried to meet you in your silence, to understand the world you lived in. At home, they’d dismissed sign language, rejected it, treating it like some kind of shameful reminder of what they wanted to ignore. They’d made you feel like you were something to be hidden, something that's less.

But here he was—a boy who, just weeks ago, had been a stranger—bridging the gap, pouring himself into learning just to reach you. Crossing the distance to meet you where you were alone.

For the first time, you didn’t feel stranded on an island of your own.

Kai spent the next few minutes basking in the warmth of your presence. When another tear slipped past your eye, he reached out, his thumb brushing it away with the gentleness of someone afraid to break something precious. His attempts at signing sentences were clumsy at best, and your happiness marked your face—something that made his heart do flips.

"Yah, I'm trying, you know," he huffed, feigning indignation as he stomped his foot playfully. His pout only deepened when you smiled at him, and he could feel the heat crawling up his neck to his cheeks. He wanted to tease you back, but the words caught in his throat when you raised your hands.

It was the first time you signed in front of him. The motion was small but deliberate, the flick of your hand touching your chin before extending toward him. Kai’s eyebrows knit together, his mind scrambling to catch up. He flipped the pages of his book, muttering, “Wait, what does that mean?”

You reached for your notepad, scribbling the word: Thank you.

Before he could process the words, you signed again, your hands moving with a fluidity that stopped him in his tracks. The glow of the moon and the faint light from the lamppost illuminated your every move, casting soft dancing shadows across your face. And Kai—he forgot how to breathe.

You looked… different. You were stunning. Not the shy, hesitant version of you he’d grown used to, but confident and sure. Each gesture was almost poetic, and he was utterly mesmerized. The way your fingers moved felt like a song without sound—it suited you in a way words never could. He didn’t even want to blink, because he was afraid he’d miss something.

All he could do was watch, completely captivated by the real you.

"You didn't really have to. But thank you… for learning it for me."

The moment was shattered by the loud creak of the gates swinging open. Kai turned, his gaze meeting a woman’s sharp, glaring eyes. He opened his mouth to bow in greeting, but he quickly realized her scowl wasn’t for him—it was directed squarely at you.

Confused, Kai glanced back at you, his eyes scanning your face. Panic was written all over it. You hastily scribbled on your notepad, the letters uneven and rushed: Step-mother. Go home now, Kai.

He read the words and nodded, even if he didn’t fully grasp the situation. When your eyes met his again, there was something pleading in them. Turning back to the woman, Kai mustered a polite bow. “Good evening,”

She didn’t acknowledge him. “Go inside or we’ll lock you out here all night.”

Kai froze, the words almost too cruel to believe. He remembers you being locked up that night at school. His jaw clenched, but he kept his expression neutral, eyes flicking back to you. You were already scribbling again: Good night. Be safe travelling home.

He noticed something then—why hadn’t you signed it? He’d learned those words, and he knew you knew them too. But he didn’t ask, didn’t want to add to your distress. Instead, he nodded silently, stepping forward to close the distance between you. He bent down and pressed a light, lingering kiss to your hairline. A small gesture to remind you that he was here, even if he had to leave now. "See you later."

When he straightened, he turned to your stepmother, who was staring at him with thinly veiled disdain. Kai met her gaze, nodded politely, and then stepped back.

He didn’t look away until he saw you retreat inside.

The gates slammed shut with a force that rattled him. Your stepmother's tone echoed in his ears, harsh and dripping with contempt. He hated the way she’d spoken to you, the way her eyes had looked at you as though you did something so wrong.

He walked away, fists clenched at his sides. The thought of you living in a house with someone like that left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Kai reunited with you the next day.

He carefully tried to bring up the encounter with your stepmother, but you avoided the topic entirely. He didn’t push, though. Instead, he quietly accepted it when you told him you lived with her, your stepsisters, and that your father was out of town on business. He said he’d wait—that he’d listen when you were ready to open up, when you felt comfortable.

Now, he’s on his way to the band room, arriving half an hour early for practice. His hand is wrapped around yours as he pulls you along. The soft warmth of your fingers in his feels just right. Students pass by, glancing your way, but Kai doesn’t care. Not when you’re here with him.

You agreed to come, though you weren’t sure what to expect. When you step into the room, your eyes widen. Trophies line the shelves, instruments are arranged neatly against the walls, and there’s a large, inviting couch in the corner. There's also a small door that must lead to a private bathroom.

Kai settles you on the couch, his lips curving into a gentle smile as he pulls his guitar out of its case. He tells you he wanted you to see this. He also mentions the upcoming festival in two days—a subtle invitation in his words.

As he strums the first notes, your eyes are drawn to him. The memory of the first time you saw Kai surfaces—your second year of high school. That day, he was being calmed down by Soobin, the band’s previous genius pianist. Even then, he left an impression so strong that you couldn’t forget him, no matter how much time had passed.

Now, sitting here in the band room as he plays his guitar for you, it feels surreal. If someone had told you back then that this would happen, you’d have laughed it off or called it impossible. But here you are, and he glances up, his eyes flickering between the strings and your face.

"I like it," you sign.

Kai’s face lights up. He reaches for something—your eyes are drawn to his hands. There, faint guitar scars run across his fingers, etched into his skin like a map of all the hours he’s poured into his craft.

An idea enters your mind.

Two days later, the school day comes to an end. You quietly pack your belongings, slipping books and papers into your bag as the chatter of students fills the room. The festival is less than an hour away. You’re just about to zip up your bag when movement near the doorway catches your attention.

Choi Beomgyu steps into the classroom, his eyes scanning the room like he’s on a mission. You glance at him curiously as Taehyun notices and stands up, greeting him with a nod then points in your direction. Beomgyu makes his way over with Taehyun trailing behind him. "Hi, Y/N," he signs, the motion catching you completely off guard. Your eyes widen in surprise. Did Kai teach him that? Did he teach both of them?

Before you can even process the thought, Beomgyu hands you a folded shirt. You take it hesitantly, inspecting it as the fabric unfurls in your hands. The moment you see the name Huening Kai printed boldly on the back, your heart skips. It’s his band shirt.

“He’ll love it,” Beomgyu says, a small grin tugging at his lips and winks. He reaches out, lightly tapping your head like it’s the most casual thing in the world. Without another word, he throws an arm around Taehyun’s shoulders, and the two of them leave the classroom together. Some girls in your room look at you with dirty looks. It matters not, you'll have to change your shirt first.

Kai’s eyes catch on your shirt almost instantly, his pace slowing as he closes the distance between you.

Confusion flits across his face, but then realization dawns. His band shirt. His name, his number on your back. His eyes widen in disbelief, and he lets out a laugh.

When you’re close enough, he reaches out, gently turning you around so he can see the full print. His fingers linger lightly on your shoulders. His grin widens, a mix of pride and something softer that you can’t quite name.

“You’ll watch, right?” he asks. His throat feels tight, and it’s not just the sight of you in his shirt—it’s everything it means.

You nod, slowly reaching into your pocket, pulling out a small gift box. You hold it out to him, “For me?” he asks softly, taking it with both hands.

When he opens the box, his breath catches in his throat. Inside are guitar picks, each one smooth and carefully chosen, but what draws his attention is the tiny, handwritten phrase etched onto them. He squints, his eyes narrowing slightly as he tilts the pick closer to the light.

See you later.

The phrase so familiar, a staple in all your goodbyes. It’s what he always waits to hear from you, what he secretly pouts about if you forget to say it. It’s a simple phrase, used by so many people in passing, but between the two of you, it’s different—reassurance that you’ll always find your way back to each other.

His chest tightens, emotion welling up in a way he hadn’t expected. He steps forward, pulls you into a hug, holding you close, his chin resting on your head. "What do I do with you?" He whispers to himself. He finally pulls back, his hands linger at your elbows, eyes searching yours. You lift your hands to sign, your movements slow.

"Good luck, rock star."

Soobin’s hand rested on your back, touch steadying as the crowd began to thicken around the stage. Kai had entrusted you to him and Yeonjun, and though the absence of Kai’s presence made you nervous, Soobin’s calm demeanour offered an unexpected sense of safety.

Yeonjun had gone to grab water, leaving you and Soobin to hold your place by the barricade. The festival was just moments away from starting, with students from your school, other schools, and alumni who had come back for the event. You found yourself gripping the metal tightly, the unfamiliar place… overwhelming. It's your first time to even attend one.

Soobin noticed immediately. He tapped your shoulder gently, “Are you okay?”

You turned to him, his concern reflected in his face. You nodded, returning a small smile. His kindness felt natural. You could see why Kai spoke of him so fondly.

You barely had time to respond before you were pulled into a sudden hug. The embrace was tight, and a sweet floral scent filled your senses. You froze in surprise, but when the person stepped back, the grin on her face was so bright and genuine that you couldn’t help but soften.

“Hi! I’m Hiyyih!” she exclaimed, her face full of excitement, her eyes shining like she’d been waiting forever to meet you. Her name made you pause, recognition flashing through your mind. Your eyes widened slightly, but you smiled back at her, quickly scribbling in your notepad.

Y/N. Nice to meet you, Hiyyih.

She read it, and immediately squealed, her reaction so heartfelt and full of life that it drew laughter from Soobin. “How did my brother pull you, huh?” she teased, shaking her head in disbelief. Then, with mock irritation, she turned to Soobin and added, “Seriously, how?”

Soobin chuckled, clearly amused. “I know. She's too pretty. Magic, maybe,” he offered casually, and Hiyyih groaned dramatically. She hooked her arm through yours, as if you’d known each other for years. You're glad they didn't mention the blush evident on your cheeks.

Yeonjun returned, handing you a cold bottle of water. “You okay?” he asked, his tone just as kind and considerate as Soobin’s had been. You nodded again, clutching the water tightly as you looked between them all—Hiyyih’s bright enthusiasm, Soobin’s quiet reassurance, and Yeonjun’s laid-back charm. It feels nice to be surrounded by people you want to be with.

You could get used to this. Being with people who made you feel like you mattered—more than your own family ever had.

It was dark now, the festival lit only by the vibrant glow of stage lights, casting shifting colours across the crowd. The ground trembled beneath your feet as people jumped and swayed, their cheers blending with the music in an electrifying symphony.

Your eyes scanned the stage, searching—and then you saw him. Kai. There he was, guitar in hand, lost in the music. The way he moved was effortless as if the instrument was an extension of himself. His face was lit up, not just by the stage lights but by a joy that radiated from within. He looked alive. Happy. He belonged there. He owns it.

And then his eyes found yours.

The chaos around you seemed to fade. Slowly, you signed, "You look cool," your hands steady even as your heart raced. You watched as his gaze followed the movement of your hands, his eyes softening with every word you formed. You didn’t need to be close to him. You didn’t need to hear his voice. As long as you could see him—and he could see you.

His lips curved into a smile, and he winked, the playful gesture making you smile back, heart swelling with pride.

The performance was incredible, each member of the band owning their moment, their energy filling the space and igniting the crowd. When the last song ended, the crowd erupted into cheers, and the band bowed together, camaraderie evident even from a distance. But before you could fully take in the scene, Kai was running.

The moment he stepped off the stage, his eyes searched for your face. His shoulders eased as soon as he saw you, surrounded by people he trusts. He loves performing—he truly does. But the thought of returning to you, is louder than any applause. His feet move before his mind can think.

Straight to you.

He reached you in seconds, his chest heaving, adrenaline still coursing through him. "I can't stop looking at you,” he said, his voice low, the words had been waiting to escape all night. His hands cradled your face, calloused by the guitar scars. "I need to kiss you right now or I'll go crazy."

You barely noticed the stares of the crowd or the murmurs of those nearby. All you could see was him. He leaned in, his breath mingling with yours, and his lips brushed against yours in the softest kiss. You’d always known his lips looked soft, but they still managed to surprise you—how perfectly they fit against yours.

When he pulled back, his grin was so wide. His arms wrapped around you tightly, holding you close as if you were the only thing that mattered. Around you, his friends clapped him on the back, their faces proud with congratulations.

“See you later?” Kai signed, his movements fluid, more confident. You nodded with a smile, waving as he stepped back. His grin widened, and he watched you enter the gates of your home.

That smile lingered on your face, carrying you all the way inside. The front doors opened for you, the maids greeting you with quiet bows, and you headed for the staircase, ready to retreat to your room.

But before you could take the first step, a hand seized your wrist and yanked you back. The slap came next, sharp and sudden, leaving a sting that spread across your cheek like fire. Startled, your hand flew to your face, and your wide, disbelieving eyes met the furious glare of your stepmother.

“You skipped your painting lesson,” she hissed, face trembling with anger, “and came home late without even telling me.”

“And what for?” she spat. “To loiter with boys? To parade yourself in public, chatting in sign language for the entire neighbourhood to see? What else do you have left to ruin? Do you have any idea how embarrassing this is for the family?” Her voice grew louder, shriller, her hand resting on her hip as she glared at you like you were something she could barely tolerate.

You noticed your stepsisters standing just out of the line. Equal anger on their faces. It was clear—they had told her. Once, their expressions had the power to make you shrink, to make you doubt yourself. Now you felt nothing but disdain. Family, you thought bitterly, scoffing as you turned your head away.

Your stepmother’s hand shot out, grabbing your chin and jerking your face back toward hers. Her nails bit into your skin as she snarled, “Did you laugh? How dare you laugh at me?”

You shoved her hand away. “Don’t touch me,” you signed, your movements sharp, gaze unwavering. You didn’t care that she couldn’t understand. This was the only way you could speak, and you were tired of swallowing your voice.

Her face twisted with fury. “I said stop using sign language!” she barked.

You didn’t flinch. Instead, you signed again, your hands trembling. “I’m not alone anymore,” you told her, the tears burning at the edges of your vision. “You can be the queen of this house, control everything and everyone under this roof. But there’s a world outside these walls. And out there, I have friends. People who see me. People who care.”

“Talk! Talk like a proper person! I told you to talk!” The slap came hard and fast, snapping your head to the side. Your cheek burned with the impact, but this time, you didn’t freeze. You pushed her. Hard.

The room erupted with a collective gasp.

“Touch me again, and you’ll see your name in the newspaper.” Your glare shifted to Chae-won as she stepped forward, her mouth opening to speak, but you didn’t wait to hear what she had to say.

You bolted up the stairs, your heart hammering in your chest, panic fueling every frantic step.

The space felt thick as you threw yourself into your room, slamming the door shut behind you. You moved toward your desk, your hands shaking as you tore your bag open, yanking out a piece of paper. You didn’t have time to think, only enough to scrawl a desperate message, the words barely legible through the blur of your haste.

The door creaked open behind you. Panic surged. You turned, your pulse pounding as you spotted them—the maids stepping into the room. You bolted to the fax machine, shoving the paper in and frantically typing his number. You had to send it. You had to.

The machine whirred, halfway through sending, when two pairs of hands grabbed you, one on each arm. You thrashed and kicked, trying to wrench free, but their grip was too strong. Your stepmother appeared in the doorway, her smirk was cruel, triumphant, and your stomach churned with dread.

And then you saw it—the glint of metal in her hands. Locks.

"Get her upstairs. Now." Your breath caught in your throat. The room seemed to tilt as a memory surged forward, unbidden and suffocating. The attic. The last time she locked you up, you were fifteen. Your skin crawled at the thought of being trapped there again. You were dragged out, your feet sliding against the floor, your cries echoing down the empty hall. It took three of them—three people to overpower you, until the door loomed.

They shoved you inside, your body hitting the floor with a dull thud. You scrambled to your feet, lunging for the door, but it slammed shut in your face. You pounded on the door, fists aching, tears burning behind your eyes. It was harder for you to breathe.

This was her punishment—her way of crushing you every time you dared to fight back, dared to speak your truth.

She’d leave you here, in the dark, in the suffocating silence, until you broke. Until you admitted she was right. Or until your father’s nearing return forced her to let you out, pretending everything was fine.

You had tried to tell him before. Slipping notes into his pockets, scribbling messages when she wasn’t looking. But her eyes were always there, sharp and watchful, snatching away every chance you had. You can’t help but wonder—if you hadn’t stood up to her, if you hadn’t accepted that small, fleeting chance to feel alive, would you still be here right now? Or would you just be trapped in another kind of prison, shackled to the cycle your stepmother has forced you into?

Dust coated every surface, the faint light that seeped through the cracks wasn’t even enough to pierce the gloom to give you hope. You curled up against the wall, knees pulled to your chest, fingers trembling as they pressed against the cold floor. It was something that you had to endure before.

For years.

Kai was running.

He didn’t care about the stares from strangers or the disapproving grunt as he ran the streets. He didn’t care about his mother’s worried gaze when he bolted out the door or the sting of his lungs from sprinting so fast. None of it mattered. All that mattered was getting to you.

The fax had come just minutes ago. He had been half-asleep when the machine whirred, spitting out a crumpled piece of paper with words that sent a shrill down his spine.

Kai, pick me up. Come get me, please. He knew it was you.

His heart pounded as he reached your gates, the mansion unwelcoming under the grey sky. He rang the door frantically, and when a maid opened the door, her polite greeting barely had time to escape her lips before Kai pushed past her.

“Sir, what are you doing?” she cried, alarmed. But Kai didn’t stop. He pushed through the grand double doors, his eyes scanning the room wildly. His gaze landed on a young woman, about his age—your stepsister, he realized with a flare of anger.

“Where’s Y/N?” he demanded, his voice booming through the space. The room fell silent. The maids froze, glancing at one another nervously, while your stepsister stiffened, her lips tightening into a scowl. “Where is she?” Kai shouted again, taking a step forward. A timid maid finally cracked, her wide eyes darting toward the stairs before quickly looking away. It was all he needed.

Kai took off, his legs carrying him up the staircase two steps at a time. As he neared the top, he heard it—a faint pounding, far but desperate. His blood ran cold as realization struck.

The attic.

Kai’s chest tightened as he reached the door. His fist slammed against the wood, the sound reverberating down the hall. The pounding on the other side grew more. His heart felt like it might tear itself apart.

“Open this door!” he says, spinning to face the maids who had followed him upstairs. “What the hell is wrong with you people? Do you want to go to prison for this? Do you want to be accomplices?” The maid who’d glanced upstairs earlier flinched, her hands shaking as she fumbled with a key.

Finally, the lock clicked, and he shoved the door open. His breath caught as he saw you huddled on the floor, your arms wrapped tightly around your knees, your face streaked with tears. “Y/N,” he breathed, rushing to you.

"You found me." You signed, eyes locking on his. He crouched, his arms wrapping around your trembling frame. He pulled you close, his hand smoothing over your hair as he held you against his chest.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m getting you out of this place.” His eyes darted around the attic, taking in the oppressive walls, scattered drawings—sketches you must’ve made. Some looks old, others newer. They had been locking you up here. Trapping you.

Kai stood, pulling you with him, “Come on,” his hand tightened around yours, and you nodded.

He led you down the stairs, his grip never faltering. At the bottom, your stepmother appeared, her expression twisting into one of fury the moment she saw him.

“Do you even realise what you’re doing right now?” she demanded, her voice sharp and grating. “This is kidnapping. Do you have any idea how much trouble you’re in?”

Kai didn’t flinch. He didn’t hesitate. His voice was steady, cold, and razor-sharp. “Not as serious as imprisonment. Or abuse.”

Her lips curled into a mocking sneer. “I’m disciplining her,” she spat, as if the word justified everything.

Your stepmother’s eyes flicked to you as your hands moved, signing. “You’re hurting me.”

Her face darkened. “How many times do I have to tell you to stop signing?”

Kai froze, his mind reeling at her words. “What?” he said, voice low. His jaw tightened as he stared at her, fury building in his chest. “How do you expect her to communicate if she can’t speak?”

She sneered. “Return her inside while I’m still asking nicely,”

“No,” Kai snapped, he turned to her fully, standing tall and unyielding. “I’m not talking to you. Tell her father, when he finally gets home, to come find me personally if he wants to see his daughter again. And don’t even think about stopping me. My mother knows I’m here.”

Your stepmother opened her mouth to argue, but Kai didn’t give her the chance. He turned away, tugging you along behind him as he strode toward the door. His glare silenced any maids who dared step forward, daring anyone to challenge him.

“If you walk out that door,” your stepmother hissed, “you’ll regret it.”

Kai didn’t stop. He didn’t even look back.

The cool night air hit your skin as he pulled you through the gates and into the street. He didn’t care about her threats. He didn’t care about what came next. The only thing he knew was—he would regret it far more if he didn’t leave with you tonight.

When the two of you arrived at Kai’s home, his mother was already at the door, her face filled with concern. The moment she saw you, her eyes softened, but they couldn’t hide the shock and sadness she felt at your condition. “Oh, sweetheart,” she said gently, ushering you inside with open arms. “Let’s get you settled.”

She led you to a spare room, “This was Lea’s room,” she explained with a small smile. “Kai’s sister. She’s away at college now, so it’s all yours for as long as you need.”

Kai, stepped outside, pacing the front yard. His hands clenched and unclenched, breathing unevenly as he tried to calm himself. “How could they do that to her? As human beings?” he spits, in disbelief. “Even animals wouldn’t treat someone like that.”

His mother followed him out, gently placing a hand on his arm. “Kai, breathe,” she said softly. “She needs space to process everything right now.”

Kai shook his head, “What you did was good,” his mother continued. “Let her stay here for now. She’s safe with us.”

“And what happens when her father comes back?” Kai snapped, “What then? She just gets sent back to that place?”

His mother sighed, her grip on his arm steady. “Kai, it’s obvious he doesn’t know what’s been happening. Do you think any father would knowingly allow this?”

“That man, he lives in the same house as her. How does he not know? He’s either blind or he doesn’t care because all he does is make money and turn ignorant to everything else.”

His mother stepped closer, pulling him into a hug before he could spiral further. “It’s not your place to decide what kind of father he is, or if she should forgive him. That’s up to her. Right now, she needs rest.”

You sat curled up on the edge of the bed, knees pulled tightly to your chest, your back pressed into the corner. Your fingers picked at your nailbeds. Every breath you took felt shaky, like you were on the verge of falling apart.

It was the first time you’d ever stood up to them—to that whole oppressive house. The weight of it settled heavily on your chest, but more than that, you worried about Kai. About his family. Would they be okay with you here? What if they went after Kai or his family for taking you in? Would your presence bring trouble to their door? You felt like a curse, dragging misfortune wherever you went.

The sight of the door sliding open startled you. You looked up to see Kai’s mom stepping in, her form soft in the dim light. She carried a stack of clothes in her hands, a small smile on her face.

“Hiyyih’s already asleep, so I had to grab these for you,” she said, setting it down in front of you. “These are Lea’s—Kai’s sister. I’m not sure if you’ll like them, but I thought these might fit you.”

You nodded silently, your heart pounding as you glanced at her. You could not shake the fear that she might say you’d put Kai in danger, that bringing you here was a mistake. Or how much trouble you might’ve caused him. The guilt plague, making your stomach turn.

She didn’t say anything at first, just sat there, her gaze soft and thoughtful. Then her smile widened, and her eyes crinkled at the corners like Kai does. “Gosh, you’re so pretty,” she said, as if she was stating the most obvious fact in the world. “Look at your eyes—they’re so clear, so bright.” Her words made your breath hitch.

“Not being able to talk must be so hard,” she continued, face replaced with sadness. “You must’ve felt so upset. So frustrated.” She moved closer, her hands reaching for yours. Her touch was warm, and something about it made the tears in your eyes sting even more.

“But you did such a good job, honey,” she said, her voice breaking slightly. “Growing up into such a beautiful, strong young lady.” Her thumb gently brushed the back of your hand, and she smiled again, “I’m proud of you.”

Her words shattered something inside you, breaking through the walls you’d tried so hard to keep up. You bit down on your lip, but it was no use. The tears slipped free, rolling down your cheeks.

“If anyone ever hurts you again, if anyone tries to trap you, you come here,” she said firmly, her tone shifting to one of conviction. “Don’t ever put up with it. Just come back here. Or stay here and live with me." She grinned at the thought, expression animated, like it was the simplest solution in the world.

You couldn’t hold it back anymore. You cried, your shoulders trembling as the sobs punished your body. All the days you had endured in silence. The days they made you feel invisible, like you didn’t matter. The way they looked at you, spoke about you, treated you, as though you were something other, something different. Not belonging. Not normal.

"Don't cry," She pulled you into her arms, holding you tightly as she rubbed your back in soothing circles. You were starting to see it wasn’t true. Starting to believe. And her embrace is so… familiar. It was like holding onto a memory you’d been too afraid to revisit—the one you’d clung to as a lifeline but had started to fade, little by little.

It felt like you were eight again, back in time—cradled in your mother’s warm arms.

Kai stood at your door, it's been an hour when he saw his mother leaving, her eyes red from crying. She had tried to reassure him to give you space, to let you be alone tonight—but Kai's heart couldn’t rest. He knocked softly before slipping inside.

You were facing away from him, the sheets pulled up high against your body. He walked over, unsure of what to expect, and tapped a single finger on your shoulder to check if you were awake. You shifted and glanced back at him, your face still soft with the remnants of tears.

He offered a small smile, his hands signing softly, “Hi.”

You didn’t respond with words instead, you scooted over, making room for him on the bed. He slid in beside you, leaving just enough space between you both. “Are you okay?” he signed, his face filled with concern.

“Yes,” you replied quietly, your fingers moving slowly, tracing the air. “Because you always come whenever I need someone.”

His heart skipped a beat. “Anything for you,” he whispered, gaze never left yours. "I'll do anything for you,"

His fingers slowly lifted to cradle your face, his thumb brushing gently across your cheek. Your eyes fluttered closed at the touch, and Kai could feel your breath hitch. You shifted closer to him, pressing your head to his chest, seeking his intoxicating smell.

He tucked you in carefully, his arm lying beneath your head as his head rested gently on top of yours. His touch was warm and soothing as his hand trailed down your back, the warmth from his skin seeping through the fabric of your clothes. You closed your eyes, feeling the calm settle in your chest, until a small movement in his chest caught your attention.

You pulled back slightly, confusion in your eyes. His face was soft, but his eyes shimmered with tears that hadn't yet fallen. His lips parted, searching for the right words. “How did you put up with all of that?” he whispered, a tear slipping down his right cheek. His chest seemed to tighten with the weight of the question. “What they did to you, it was the worst. I— should've found you sooner. I promise… you will not be alone anymore, okay?”

You nod, tearing up at his words. It was the first time someone made a promise to you that you knew he wouldn't break. A small smile found its way to your lips. His hands moved, fingers gently pressed against your palm as he spelled out.

"You're safe now,"

You wake up slowly, your eyes squinting as they adjust to the soft morning light spilling into the room.

Kai's arms are still wrapped around your waist, his body pressed against yours, his face nestled against your chest. You gently trace the lines of his face with your fingers, captivated by the details you never want to forget—the way his freckles and moles give his features a softness, an angelic quality. He's so beautiful. The light in a world that once felt so dark. In a life that’s often felt like a nightmare, he’s the one thing that pulled you into the almost impossible daylight.

You lean in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. He murmurs in his sleep but doesn’t stir. You smile softly at his innocence, feeling your heart flutter. You try to untangle your legs from his, hesitant to leave the safety of his embrace, but you slowly make your way out of the bed.

As you step into the living room, the smell of breakfast makes your stomach rumble. You find Kai’s mom and Hiyyih already in the kitchen. The latter smiles warmly at you. “Good morning,” she greets, and you return the smile.

Breakfast is simple but comforting. The food amazing, your appetite comes back little by little with every bite.

When you’re finished, Hiyyih looks at you with a bright smile. “Want to help me with the lunch boxes?” she asks, and you nod eagerly. She helps you slip on an apron, her fingers fumbling with the straps as she giggles. It's contagious, and makes you smile.

She pulls her hair back into a ponytail, a few strands fall loose, and you reach for your notepad. You quickly scribble, Let me braid your hair?

Hiyyih’s eyes widen with delight, and she nods. You gather her hair gently, carefully weaving the strands together. A soft smile spread across her face at the comforting touch of your hands.

Kai stretched his arm to your side, but the space was empty.

His eyes snapped open, sleep quickly fading as he registered the absence of your presence. He sat up abruptly, fumbling to slide his feet into his house slippers, the soft padding of his steps barely audible as he hurried out of the room.

Where could you have gone? Has someone come to take you home? His thoughts raced, each one more frantic than the last. He barely noticed the cold air of the hallway as he hurried toward the kitchen—then he stopped, heart halting in his chest.

There you were.

The tension melted away as he took in the scene. You stood at the counter, laughter spilling from your lips as you helped Hiyyih pack three lunch boxes. The soft fabric of an apron hugged your frame, and his mother moved gracefully beside you, pouring cups of steaming chocolate milk, a soft smile gracing her lips as she watched the two of you.

Your eyes found his, and the world seemed to slow. A smile softened your features as you raised a hand, signing a simple "Hi," and motioning for him to come closer.

"Good morning," Kai murmured. His heart swelled at the scene before him—three women who meant the world to him. "Morning, Mom."

The two watched as Kai closed the small distance between you and him. He softly placed his hands on your shoulders, the touch gentle. Then, he leaned down, pressing a light, quick kiss to the top of your head. His small act makes you blush.

"Good morning, Son," his mother interrupts warmly, passing him a plate of pancakes and sausages. "Y/N and Hiyyih have already eaten. Here’s your breakfast."

Kai took his seat, the clatter of cutlery mingling with the soft sounds of your and Hiyyih’s giggles. His mother, ever attentive, placed a notepad on the counter, making sure nothing was lost in translation as she communicated with you.

If you truly want to express something, you’ll find a way. And if you want to say even more, you’ll learn, until your heart speaks louder than words ever could.

It was the first time you were in a car, heading to school, and there was a grin you couldn’t wipe from your face.

Everything felt lighter today—the warmth of Hiyyih’s arm gently looping around yours, and every now and then, Kai’s glance in the rearview mirror caught yours.

Last night seemed to burn away, slipping from your mind like smoke on the breeze. The car pulled up, and you all said your goodbyes to Kai’s mom, her lips warm against your cheek as she kissed you. “What food would you like later?” Her question made you pull her into a tight hug, surprising her with the warmth you hadn’t known you had in you. It's true, that if you surround yourself with better people, you'll be better too.

It felt like everyone in school was watching, but you didn’t mind. Kai’s hand in yours felt so right, and Hiyyih was chatting away beside you, making everything feel like a dream. When the time came for Hiyyih to part ways, she also kissed your cheek with a smile, waving goodbye.

Kai’s eyes were on you, a smirk tugging at his lips as you laughed softly. He loved seeing you so light, so happy. When he walked you to your class, you bumped into Taehyun, who ruffled your hair with a grin and a gentle pat on the head. You felt like he already knew, given that his stare much more concerned than it ever was.

Is this what it feels like to be part of something? What a family is supposed to feel like?

You washed your hands in the sink, the corners of your lips still tugged into a faint smile. But the moment was cut short when a splash of cold water hit you, soaking your uniform. You gasped, the fabric clinging uncomfortably to your skin. You only know two people who find joy in these acts. Turning quickly, you saw Chae-won and Yun-jin standing there, flanked by three other girls whose names you didn’t even know but who were always with them.

“Are you done living your life like a victim?” Chae-won’s voice rang out, sharp and biting. A few other students in the bathroom froze, unsure of what to do, before slipping out the door, desperate to avoid being caught in the middle.

“Go home,” she spat, her glare searing. “I’m not letting my mother deal with trash like you.”

Your chest tightened, but you refused to show it. You held her gaze for a beat longer than you thought you could, then turned to leave. The quicker you got out of their sight, the better. You don't want to waste your energy on dealing with her. But before you could make it to the door, two of them grabbed your arms roughly and shoved you back.

“Go home now,” one of them hissed. “Or I’ll make sure everyone knows just how pathetic you really are.”

Something inside you snapped. The words stung, but your hand moved faster than your thoughts. The slap echoed in the tiled bathroom. Chae-won’s face twisted in shock before anger overtook her features. She lunged, pushing you into a cubicle. Her hands tangled in your hair as you tried to fight back, her nails digging into your arm as you struggled to block her strikes.

They always kept it hidden, their cruelty tucked away in the shadows—behind the closed doors of your home, in the quiet corners of the art room, places where no one else would see. Never here. Never out in the open like this. These were the same people you once looked at with longing, the ones you dreamed would someday call you their friend.

Tears blurred your vision as you struggled to catch your breath. The sharp ache in your scalp subsided when Chae-won was suddenly yanked off you, her grip torn away by a rough hand.

Hiyyih. Your eyes widened as you saw her, fierce and blazing with anger. “Get the fuck away from my sister, bitch!” she screamed, face cracking with rage. Before Chae-won could recover, Hiyyih kicked her hard on her thigh, her fury igniting as she saw the blood smeared across your arms.

Another girl was with her, someone you vaguely recognized, stepping in to help. Suddenly, it was three against five, chaos erupting in the cramped bathroom.

Hiyyih glared daggers at Yun-jin, voice trembling with raw emotion. “You think you can just hurt people? You think you’re strong because you can?”

The bathroom erupted into noise—shouting, scuffling, and the sound of feet scrambling for safety. Students crowded at the doorway, peeking in with wide eyes, while others bolted to find a teacher. You stayed close to Hiyyih, your chest tight with fear. What if they hurt her the way they hurt you?

You felt yourself shoved against the counter in the commotion, your pulse pounding in your ears. And then, cutting through the chaos, you saw them. Three figures pushed their way through the crowd, pushing onlookers, unconcerned that this was a girls’ bathroom.

Kai. Beomgyu. Taehyun.

Everything seemed to blur as Kai desperately reached you, pulling you close against his chest. His arms wrapped around you, steady and protective, shielding you from anyone.

“Enough!” Beomgyu shouts. “This ridiculous cat fight ends now.”

Kai’s hands cupped your face, his touch trembling as he scanned your cuts and bruises. His jaw tightened, his eyes dark with anger and fear. His eyes check his sister, now standing between Beomgyu and Taehyun. He exhaled sharply, pulling you behind him, his body a wall between you and the rest of the room.

“Stop this,” he said coldly, his words directed at Chae-won, who was fixing her hair with a smug expression. "This is your last warning—stay away from her.”

Chae-won sneered, venom dripping from her voice. “Why do you keep protecting that… thing?” she spat. “She’s abnormal. She can’t hear. She made us miserable. She’s selfish, always making everything about her. She plays the victim like it’s a sport.”

Her words made Hiyyih surged forward, ready to strike, but Taehyun held her back with a firm grip.

“Are you fucking serious right now?” Chae-won blinked, startled by the harshness in Kai's tone—a tone so unlike the boy known for his warmth and kindness. “She’s the best person to ever walk these grounds,” Kai adds, eyes locked on Chae-won. “She’s everything you’ll never be.”

You tried to step out from behind him, to meet Chae-won’s glare head-on, but Kai’s arm gently stopped you, keeping you behind him, his body a wall between you and her cruelty.

“If anyone here isn’t normal, it’s you. Never her.”

For the first time, Chae-won’s smirk faltered, her confidence visibly shaken. Her eyes dart between Hiyyih, Beomgyu and Taehyun. They all look at her in disdain.

Her mind raced, her thoughts spiralling back to the words her mother had drilled into her—how you were less, how people would never care about you. But now—these people—they were standing with you, like they would shield you from anything that came your way. It made her gulp. She bolts outside, Yun-jin was hot on her heels, matching her pace. The other girls had already disappeared.

For the first time, she was afraid—of the consequences that might happen if she ever dared to hurt you again.

“You don’t have to forgive them, you know?” Kai says, his shoulder brushes against yours, as you both sit, legs dangling off the edge of the makeshift bench in the yard. The watermelon ice cream in your hand drips slightly, the heat of the sun melting it. His sister and mother are out of the house, shopping for tonight's supper.

“It’s okay to take your time,” he adds, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. “Or never forgive them at all. You can stay here with us for as long as you want. There’s no rush to figure everything out.”

You shift your feet, wiggling your toes against the warm wood beneath you. Both of you are still in the loose, comfortable clothes you threw on after rolling out of bed. No shoes, no plans—It’s a Saturday—your first weekend here.

You look at him, and the light catches his face. A small smile tugs at your lips as you sign, “You know, I’ve never given you a proper nickname.”

Kai pauses mid-bite, blinking at you in surprise at your random words. “Huh?” he mumbles around the end of his ice cream. “What do you mean?”

You let out a soft laugh, your hands moving fluidly as you explain, “Since calling out your name in sign language takes a little more effort, it’s better to give you a nickname. Something simple but special, something that means ‘you.’”

Kai’s heart stutters in his chest. How was it possible that every time he saw you sign, it felt like the first time all over again? "Wha- what would you call me?"

You smile, a little shy. You’d thought of this nickname days ago, waiting for the right moment to share it. “Diamond,” you sign, your hands forming the shape—your thumb and index finger meet to form the letter D, before tracing an elegant upward motion, like a sparkle.

Kai’s breath catches. His chest feels tight, like his heart is swelling too big for the space it’s in. Diamond. The way you did it, the way it looked—it felt intimate. "It’s beautiful."

You smile softly at him, and his entire world shifts. “I can’t hear your voice, but I see it. You shine the brightest when you’re making music. That’s when you look the coolest, like you’re untouchable… like a diamond. But even then, I don’t feel left out when I’m with you. I never felt I don't belong when I'm with you.” Your hands falter slightly, your eyes glassy with unshed tears.

Kai watches every movement, every micro-emotion on your face. He understands every word.

He’s in love with you. Completely, helplessly.

He doesn’t need to be the doctor to diagnose his own symptoms, a teacher to put his feelings into words, or to be the scientist to prove his theory. None of those roles matters because—these things will never speak as loud as his heart. He loves you. And with every moment he spends knowing you, he finds himself falling even deeper.

And now, he can give you his music—something he once thought was beyond him. Loving you has been the easiest thing he’s ever done.

Kai's desperate need consumes him as he grabs your face, his heart racing with aching desire to kiss you. His lips crash onto yours, devouring the sweetness of your watermelon-flavoured mouth. You moan, a little sound that only fuels his need as he leans back. "You're so beautiful. I need you, please." He pulls you closer and kisses you again once you nod, unable to resist his sweet kisses. He breaks away and takes your hand, leading you. Like he always does.

You let him pull you into his room, the scent of him wrapping around you like a quiet embrace. The space feels personal—lived-in. It feels like... him.

Before you can say a word, his arms encircle you from behind, holding you close as his lips brush softly against the side of your head. His hands move slowly, sliding from your waist to your stomach. With a gentle tug, he lifts your shirt just enough to reveal the bare skin beneath. His touch is tender as his fingers graze over you, tracing delicate patterns, and caressing. Kai turns you around.

Kai's mind swirls with uncertainty. He stares into your eyes, and he signs the words that he has been holding back. "I love you." You respond by pulling him close, kissing him fiercely and tangling your fingers in his hair. Your mind is consumed by his confession, and his touches.

He pushes you onto the bed, flooding your senses with his smell. You wrap your legs around him instinctively, surprised at yourself for doing something naturally you haven't done. You're craving his touch.

"I need you," His voice is low, repeating the words. He wants to know. He wants to make sure that you're alright with this. You give a slight nod, granting him permission. He eagerly accepts, his lips crashing against yours in a frenzy of need. His hands roam your body, leaving trails of fire as he hungrily kisses down your neck. He goes down, he bites down on the fabric covering your nipples, eliciting a gasp of pleasure from you.

He gingerly lifted your shirt over your head, revealing your flushed skin. He took one of your hardened nipples into his mouth and gently sucked, watching closely as your face contorted in pleasure and your eyes fluttered shut.

He slides his hand under your silk pyjama top and gently traces the curve of your back with his fingers. He settles himself beside you, leaning as he reaches your waistband. His long fingers slip inside and finds you already wet, he spreads your lips apart and expertly flicks his finger over your clit. He adds another finger and watches your face for any signs of discomfort, peppering kisses along your cheeks as you shake your head in pleasure. Slowly, he inserts them deeper, making you grip his shoulders tightly as he stretches you.

He rolls his knuckles over your sensitive clit. With a swift movement, his hand opens like scissors, his thumb teasing your swollen nub. You let out a gasp and clutch onto his now longer hair, pulling him closer as he continues to pleasure you with his skilled fingers. Your mouths meet in a passionate kiss, his hot tongue brushing yours as he works his fingers in and out of you.

As he pulls out, you can feel his gaze on you, his eyes tracing every inch of your body. Every part of your body is beautiful.

You try to reach for his pants, but he shakes his head with a small smile. "This is all about you." He whispers, and places a kiss on your lips.

He slides into you, causing tears to escape from the corners of your eyes as you feel yourself being stretched and filled. He's so big, hot inside you. "Baby, I got you," He leans in close, his warm breath mingling with yours as he gently wipes away your tears.

Kai searches your eyes and waits for you to signal him to move again, you hummed nodding your head. He presses deeper, and the sensation makes your whole body tingle. With each thrust, he presses you further into the mattress, leaving hot kisses along your skin as his other hand finds its way back to your clit.

His lips found your ears, and he left traces of kisses. The overwhelming pleasure builds and builds until finally, you can't hold back any longer and release with a shudder. But he doesn't stop there; he continues to move inside of you groaning, pulling out before his release, he fists his erection and hot white cum comes undone on his hands. He leans down to give you a quick kiss on your forehead, smirking at your fucked out face.

Kai's touch was careful as he ran the cloth over your skin, wiping away, and cleaning you up. He worked slowly, keeping one of his hands holding your own.

When he was done, he looked up at you with that same soft smile. You feel your lips curve in response, reaching out to touch his flushed cheeks, your fingers brushing against his warm skin. The simple touch makes his smile widen into a boyish grin. You see his mouth open, saying "I love you." The same words he kept repeating over and over again even without you knowing it.

It feels unreal, like a fragile dream stitched together by your desperate mind to escape the torment of your reality. Kai doesn’t seem real—a fleeting fever dream you’re terrified will vanish the moment you wake. Your hands move almost on their own, signing the words your heart refuses to deny. "I love you too."

A floor table is set up in the yard, resting on a wide blanket with soft cushions scattered around it. Plates of food and side dishes fill the table, the space alive with chatter and laughter.

Kai sits beside you, his knee brushing yours beneath the table his hands caressing your back when no one's looking, Hiyyih is in the center, her laughter bright and infectious, while Taehyun and Beomgyu are across from you, locked in their usual back-and-forth.

Or rather, Beomgyu trying to bait Taehyun into bickering, and Taehyun rolling his eyes with amused restraint.

The sliding door opens, and Kai’s mom steps out, balancing a steaming pot in her hands. “Here comes the ramen!” she sings. The broth makes you realise just how hungry you are.

She begins ladling out bowls, and the clinking of utensils signals the start of the meal. As the first bite warms your throat, the cold night seems to retreat, replaced by the simple joy of being here, with them.

You reach out toward the dessert—ripe, glossy strawberries—but your hand freezes as you see Beomgyu grab the last one. He pauses mid-bite when he catches the longing look in your eyes. “Oh,” he says, a smirk tugging at his lips. Slowly, he pulls the fruit away from his mouth, holding it out to you with his chopsticks. “Because I’m a good guy, I’ll let you have it.”

Before you can protest, Kai reaches over with his own chopsticks and snatches the strawberry back. He shoves it into Beomgyu’s mouth, earning a muffled yelp. “You can keep it,” Kai says flatly, shooting a half-hearted glare at his friend.

Taehyun bursts out laughing, pointing at Beomgyu’s shocked expression. “He’s jealous,” he teases, his grin wide.

“I am not,” Kai snaps, cheeks betraying by giving a soft pink hue. “I just don’t want his germs spreading to Y/N.”

Beomgyu, finally swallowing the strawberry, points a dramatic finger at Kai. “You little shi—”

You laugh as Beomgyu leaps to his feet, determined to catch Kai, who’s darting away with that grin that melts your heart every time. Kai—the one who didn’t just save you from your own darkness, but who opened up his world and invited you in, piece by piece.

You sigh, not out of sadness, but happiness—a feeling slowly becoming familiar. It doesn’t feel impossible anymore.

You avoid your father’s gaze, his concerned eyes scanning you with a frown etched deep into his forehead. You shift, positioning yourself behind Kai’s broad back. You can still see your father, but having Kai in front of you makes it all feel bearable—almost safe.

Your father arrived first thing in the morning, dressed sharply in his suit, as though he hadn’t wasted a second to come get you ever since he came back.

He explained everything in a rush—what he’d done back at the house. Your stepmother was gone, and she’d taken your stepsisters with her. Without a marriage binding them, he ended it quickly, as swiftly as he’d once welcomed her into your home, believing she could be a solution, a saviour for you.

The maids who had turned a blind eye or worse—enabled the abuse—were fired on the spot. And now, he was determined to make things right—determined to press charges, to hold accountable anyone who had ever hurt you. His voice cracked when he spoke of it, the guilt etched deep into his expression.

"Would you mind if I speak for a moment?" Kai asks stance proud, and unwavering. Your father looked at him, taking in the way he stood in front of you, protective. It reminded him of the days when he had stood like that for your mother—the only woman he had truly loved.

“My mom doesn’t know any sign language,” Kai begins, “But she still talks to Y/N all the time. They understand each other perfectly.” He pauses, letting the words settle.

“That’s when I realized something,” Kai continues, his gaze unwavering. “You can say anything—anything at all—if it comes from a willing heart.” He pulls out a book. It’s a little worn around the edges, its cover creased from being used so often. It’s the same sign language book he’s been studying with you, the one he’s cherished so much.

He holds it out to your father, “I thought this might help. It’s a good place to start, so you can reach her too.” Your father takes it, his fingers brushing against the cover. His lips part, voice thick with emotion, “Thank you, Kai.” He extends his hand, and Kai shakes it firmly, a quiet understanding passing between them.

Then Kai turns to you, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. His mom and Hiyyih wrap you in tight hugs, their warmth lingering long after they let go. You haven’t even stepped outside the gate yet, but they’re already asking when you’ll come back.

You smile, trying to give them an answer, but the truth catches in your throat. The truth is, you don’t know if you can live your life without them anymore.

The trip back to your house was quiet.

You opened the doors, but no one was inside. No one inside, yet it felt more… welcoming than it ever had. You walk into your room, and are about to reach to close your bedrooms behind you. But before it shuts, your father steps inside.

“I’m sorry,” he starts, “For everything.” All you can do is nod silently, feeling the sting of tears welling in your eyes. You’ve thought about this moment a thousand times—how you would say everything you’ve kept inside, how you’d finally tell him that his silence and distance hurt more than the physical abuse they gave.

You wanted him to know what his absence caused, how it made everything worse. You wanted to shout, to let him feel the anger you’ve carried for so long. But as you hear his apology, you find yourself lacking the heart to do so. Because this moment—it’s the one you’ve been waiting for your entire whole life. For him to finally come back to you.

He takes a hesitant step closer, his hands trembling as they reach up to cup your face. His eyes that screams nothing but regret. “You’re the only one left who matters to me,” he says, “I’m so sorry I didn’t see it sooner. I promise—I’ll make it up to you. Somehow, I’ll make it right.” Before you know it, he pulls you into his arms, holding you as if he’s afraid to let go.

The two of you cry, clinging to each other in the quiet of the house. No other words are spoken. The walls that once held the echoes of your pain now bear witness to something… starting to heal.

The horrors of the past don’t, won't disappear, but they begin to blur, fading as you melt inside your father's arms. You close your eyes as you cry—broken sobs, like a child needing comfort after a big bad nightmare, tasting the salt of your own tears as they fall.

It tastes like forgiveness.

"Do you want to come with me on my next business trip?" your father signs, his hands moving carefully beside you in the car. "New York."

You smile at his effort, the clumsy yet intentional movements making him seem more approachable—so different from the figure you once knew.

"I'd love that, dad." His face lights up with your response, a genuine smile spreading across his lips. He looks relieved, maybe even proud, that he's able to communicate with you more clearly now. Your gaze drifts to the newspaper folded in his lap, the bold numbers marking the year—1996.

The car slows to a stop, signalling that you've arrived. Your father leans over, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. "See you daughter,"

You wave goodbye, stepping out onto the pavement, watching as the car pulls away. You clutch your shoulder bag, a soft smile playing on your lips—one that seems to have taken permanent residence these past few months. Your steps are light, your eyes brighter, and your heart hums a melody only you can hear.

Community for the Gifted: Advanced Sign Language

The words on the board seem almost dreamlike. A reminder that you're here. Everything that happened wasn't just a dream.

Before you can dwell on it, your bag is gently lifted from your hands. You turn, meeting his eyes—warm, full of affection. He dips his head, pressing a sweet, fleeting kiss to your lips, followed by another on your nose, and your brows.

"Hi, pretty girl," He says softly, shifting your bag to his other hand. He reaches for your free hand, fingers intertwining with yours. He squeezes it three times.

I love you.

Together, you step through the doors, hand in hand with the boy who loves you in ways you didn’t think anyone ever could. The boy who simply found you in your silent world. It amazes you—how one person can make life feel so undeniably worth living.

Huening Kai, who learned to speak your language, so you won't have to spend your lifetime translating your soul.

THE END.

taglist: i love you @.beombunni @.hyukascampfire @.yunverie @.gyu-tori @.bamgyuuuri @.saejinniestar @.xylatox @.lovingbeomgyudayone @.virtaideen @.hyunelixbun @.brrytears @.fancypeacepersona @.tyunningstar @.kejingken @.usuallyunlikelyfox @.ode2soob @.beomieeeeeeeeeeees @.lilbrorufr @.vicurious28

#izzy reblogs ✶⋆.˚

2K notes · View notes