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[jichanqz]

CARREFOUR • ERIC SOHN

PART 1

PAIRINGS tbz eric x f!oc

WORD COUNT 2.6k+

GENRE fantasy, mythical creature!au, angst, romance, slow burn

which is better, or which is worse? having no power among those who do or having your power used against you?

MASTERLIST | NEXT PART

Most of his time is spent alone in his study, sitting at the intricately carved wooden table, poring over books after books. His eyes dart among lines, between each words and every pages as his hand moves swiftly across the paper, jotting down every single information obtained.

He drowns himself in the waves of books, too deep to notice the perpetual knock on the door. He finally raises his head at the sound of the door creaking open, slightly adjusting the position of his reading glasses that had slid down his nose bridge. "My highest apologies for barging in like this, Your Royal Highness. You were not answering, I was afraid that something might've happened to you."

He waves his hand at the sight of the maid gravely bowing in front of him. "No, there's no need to apologise. Am I needed for anything?" He takes off his glasses and pays full attention to the servant. "It's already time for dinner. The King and Queen are already waiting for you at the dining table.

His eyes scamper to the old, grandfather clock at the corner of his study. He slams his back against the leather chair as he catches sight of the time, burying his face in his hands. A heavy, disgruntled sigh leaves his mouth. He always lose track of time the moment he's indulged in his books.

He then straightens his posture again. "Thank you for reminding me. You may go." His signature smile is returned with a bow from the maid before she disappears behind the door, leaving him all alone again, alone among the piles of books.

Never once he leaves the room untidy, every book is ensured to be arranged at their original place back. He closes the robust door behind him, making his way across the long, dim hallway to the dining hall. Midway through, he stops in his track, his eyes are locked on the massive aged painting hanged on the wall. He scanned every corner of the artwork with cloudy, uninterpreted eyes.

I am almost there.

His eyes are shaky, jaw clenched tight before he drags his feet away from the massive frame, proceeding to the royal dining hall.

He is greeted by a line of elves servants loyally standing at the side of the dining hall, profoundly bowing as he enters the room. The King and Queen are already there, sitting at both ends of the small dining table, facing each other. "My apologies for keeping both of you waiting." His apology receives a nod from both of his parents. He takes a seat right in the middle, and the hall falls silent again, lacking any voice or whisper.

"Eric." His father starts, breaking the excruciating silence. The cheerful fire burning in the hearth at the side of the hall is not enough to chase away the coldness biting at his bone, not able to tame the churning nervous feeling at the pit of his stomach.

Eric had prepared himself mentally to hear the next words coming from his father's mouth. He had long expected that this moment will finally come. Still, he is not yet ready to face it. Will he actually be ready? He himself has no clue.

"The full moon is in less than a week. I hope you are ready." Eric heaves a hefty sigh he doesn't even realise holding as his father finishes his sentence. His parents' silent stare, waiting for his answer is pinning him in his seat, very discomfited to even shift in the seating.

Eric clears his dry throat, flashing a fake confident countenance along with that signature smile of his, before locking eyes with the King and Queen. "I was born ready." Fake it till you make it they said.

The full moon. The moment when magical powers have no limit. Where the energy of the creatures will not be consumed every time they use their power during that period of time.

"Good. I wont be fully convinced that you are actually ready to take the throne until then." Eric gulps the lump in his throat for the umpteenth time.

The throne. Being the only heir is not promising enough that the sovereignty will fall into his grasp that easily. Owing to that, he has been doing everything to stay on his parents good side, obeying every order that is placed on his shoulder. But this very next dictate that is about to be carried out is contravening Eric's morality.

"Eat up, my son." The three of them start eating as the King picks up his cutlery. Again, the room is filled with silence, not even the sound of cutlery clinking can be heard. The still atmosphere is very different with what's going on in Eric's mind; busy and industrious, sorting up each and every thought flooding in.

"And one more thing, Eric." His father adds, his eyes remain glued to the dish. "The blonde root of your hair started showing. Be sure to dye it before you leave this palace." His hair, the most recognisable dissimilarity that makes him stand out among his people, an abomination to his parents.

He never feels disheartened by his unique feature, but he rather appreciate it. He never understands why his parents dislike his hair that much, yet he never questioned anything and just followed his father's demand. "Yes, father." Eric replies rather curtly.

Suddenly, the Queen clacks her wine glass to the table in an exaggerated manner, an action that the servants are keenly aware of its meaning. Before the servants could dash to the dining table to serve the Queen, Eric grabs the tall wine bottle, stopping the servants in their tracks.

"Eric." The Queen utters rather sternly, her eyes piercing through Eric's. The son simply flashes a smile to their servants before pouring the wine into the glass himself. "Here you go mother." The glass is placed in front of the Queen with much delicacy.

"We hired workers in this residence for a reason, Eric Sohn." Hearing the Queen's words, the elves servants keep their mouth shut, heads hanging low.

"Having workers doesn't necessarily mean that we should just sit back and do nothing, mother." Things are always like this and Eric is extremely sick of it.

Growing up, he has encountered tremendous amount of discrimination towards the elves, done by the people of his bloodline; the so-called fairies. He learned that the messed up relationship between both community had rooted since a very long time ago. He was told that the feud was caused by the elves, but nobody wants to expatiate on the matter every time he brought the issue up.

Everybody seemed to be restraining themselves from talking about that incident, and Eric had discerned that there is so much more attributing to the incident. There is definitely an untold veracity that people are desperately trying to keep buried in the pit of their stomach.

He never once agrees with all of the enmity. He believes that antagonism is a choice, a choice made by the impermanents when they can legibly opt for peace. He has long desired on changing the gruesome history between fairies and elves, and create peace among every creatures, which is the reason on why he is yearning to taking the throne.

"Well, at least this excessive kindness of yours will help you on your mission, deceiving and getting along with that elf community." Eric's mouth feels raw at his mother's remark regarding the dictate. Deceiving. No, he is not deceiving anybody. His parents order is indeed merciless, but he had no choice, this is the only path that is leading him to the royal seat, the only path that he has to end the feud between both tribes.

But he is not taking his parents' order mindlessly. He is not walking into the mission with bare hands. He had came up with a plan. Nights had been spent poring over books, absorbing every single knowledge on ensuring that no harm is coming to both tribes. And what's left is for him to execute the plan very carefully.

Brown leaves are decorating the ground, crunching as you drag your feet above them, making your way from house to house. The sky's light purple, tint of orange starts to fade as the ball of rays rises higher over the horizon. The clouds are vague, yet the sparkle is evident and discernible, spreading here and there across the vast empyrean.

A rattan basket in your left hand, while your other hand knocks at the wooden door of a beautiful, small cottage in the middle of the village. You hum along to the melody of nature as you wait for the door to be opened, taking in the well-nurtured house compound around you.

Judging by how the variety of flowers in the pots surrounding the house blooms beautifully and how the green axonopus covering the ground is well trimmed, one wouldn't expect that the owner of this house is an old, retired soldier. A werewolf to be exact.

The teak door behind you creaks open, revealing a face that is way too familiar to you. He flashes the brightest smile, one that is contagious. The crinkles around his eyes become even more visible as his lips grow wider. The sign of ageing that gets even more seeable as the days go by never outshine the calmness held by that facade.

"Aletheia." He is one of the few people who calls you by your full name, which never fails to trigger a certain spot in your heart. They remind you of the exquisite meaning behind that eight letters that define your identity and individuality.

He opens the door fully, revealing his neat interiors and his trig outfit. He never fails to appear highly presentable. He is donning a brown, wool crew neck sweater layered over a button-down plain, white shirt, matched with a cotton trousers in light khaki.

"I am expecting you in your shape-shifted body when I see you today, Uncle Elex." Your response receives a neverending smile from him.

"Shape-shifting requires a big amount of energy, Aletheia. And I am getting weaker day by day. I am afraid that I will not be able to enjoy the warm sun rays the next day if I do shape-shift. Plus, kids being scared with this old, grumpy werewolf is the last thing that I wanted." The words leave his mouth slow and steady, unwavering.

"You do know grumpy is the most unbefitting word to describe yourself, Uncle Elex." You rummage through the basket in hand, grabbing a small sac made of rough linen and a glass vial. "Here's the herbs that you requested, Uncle Elex. A sac of dried ginkgo and a vial of grapeseed extract." Taking the items from your hand, he proceeds to put them aside on a cabinet located near his door frame without checking what's on the inside.

"How much does it costs, Aletheia?" He is a regular at the apothecary which you work at. Yet he always asks for the price every time he purchases something, not that you are complaining, though. Just to be sure, that's what he always said.

"It's the usual, Uncle Elex. 20 Copper Pēidtts." He rummages through his woven pouch and hands you a piece of Silver Pēidtts.

"You always pay more, Uncle Elex. I'll feel bad if I let you do that again this time." You hand him 5 pieces of copper, only to receive that usual smile from him. "No, Aletheia. Just keep it for yourself, I insist." When it comes to Uncle Elex, you know that he'll stick to his words, and nothing can change him.

"Have you succeed? Have you found your power, Aletheia?"

You pull up the usual smile you always wear every time you got that question. In the world that you live in, every creature was born with a power. Every creature except for you. Some of them have the healing ability, while others can defy the law of space, teleporting from one place to another. Well, that doesn't sound quite right. In this world, there's no law.

Everyone can do extraordinary things, you name it. Except for you. You are just ordinary. The ordinary among the extraordinary.

Your condition has forced you to work harder than anyone else. You need to struggle to get something done that others can settle by just snapping their fingers. You have been working real hard, toiling to survive and to prove that you fit in this society. You have been putting your every efforts in proving that you are just the same as the others. You have been grubbing away, trying to regain your 'lost' power back. But until this very day, you are powerless still.

"No, Uncle Elex. I am still the same Aletheia. The ordinary Aletheia." You inhale deeply, taking in every hope suspending in the air.

Uncle Elex walks out of the door to his front yard. "Look at this bunch, Aletheia." He gestures to a bunch of colourful flower planted on the ground. "Do you know what they are?"

You are an expert when it comes to something related to herbs and wild plants, thanks to the years of experience gained from working at the apothecary. But when it comes to flowers, you don't know as much as Uncle Elex. You shake your head, having absolutely no clue.

"This flower is called gladiolus. Do you have an idea on what these flowers represent?" Looking at how clueless you are, Uncle Elex continues. "The gladiolus is very much like you, Aletheia."

"Very much like me? What do you mean, Uncle Elex?" You are utterly perplexed. His calm smile remains on his façade as he continues. "What does the name of this flower remind you to, Aletheia?" You never lied to the middle-aged man before you, and you don’t intend on starting it now so you just shake your head.

"Gladiator, Aletheia. People commonly recognise the glads by their strikingly tall stalks and large, abundant, spiky blooms, which looks almost like a sword, the weaponry in which is used in gladiator fights." Something about Uncle Elex lights up when he speaks about flowers, which is something he likes. But your confusion is still ravelled.

"How is that related to me, Uncle Elex?"

"The spikiness of this sword-like flower was meant to pierce the heart of its recipient with love, Aletheia. A little romantic, yet a little violent. What I am trying to say is that your burning passion and desire on searching for your power is what makes you who you are today.

It is very admirable, Aletheia. Your personality is never not able to pierce the heart of people around you. Yet, it can also be very destructive, violent, to you, and towards people around you."

"The tall, strong stem symbolises the strength of a character. Strength, the biggest trait in which I found ignited in you, Aletheia. Keep the fire ignited, but forget not that the flame can be ruinous if it is getting out of hand." Uncle Elex looks at me in the eyes as he finishes his word.

People said that eyes are the gateway to one's heart, but you definitely are not able to tell what Uncle Elex is feeling or even thinking right now. His grey eyes hold something that you cant decipher, a look that is very calm, yet very turbulent at the same time.

Romantic and violent.

You had probably uttered that out loud, you can’t tell.

"You don't need to put way too much thought on what I just told you, Aletheia. Just continue your journey with faithfulness and sincerity, and you'll be able to construe and arrange your thoughts as you carry on along the way."

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NEXT PART | MASTERLIST

[jichanqz]

we all try, but we lose emotion

໒꒱ personal favourite

☁︎ COMING SOON

☁︎ HAVE WE MET BEFORE ໒꒱

SUMMARY *･゜ﾟ↝ you bump into a stranger and for some reason, you feel drawn towards him

PAIRINGS *･゜ﾟ↝ kevin x f!reader

GENRE *･゜ﾟ↝ soulmate!au , angst

WORD COUNT *･゜ﾟ↝ 8K+

☁︎ CARREFOUR - series

SUMMARY *･゜ﾟ↝ which is better, or which is worse? having no power among those who do or having your power used against you?

PAIRINGS *･゜ﾟ↝ eric x f!oc

GENRE *･゜ﾟ↝ fantasy, romance, fairy!au

WORD COUNT *･゜ﾟ↝ tbc

PARTS *･゜ﾟ↝ one

[jichanqz]

CARREFOUR • ERIC SOHN

MEMBER tbz eric

WORD COUNT 1.1K+

GENRE fairy!au, fantasy, romance

which is better, or which is worse? having no power among those who do or having your power used against you?

PREV PART | NEXT PART

He sets foot into the small town once the tint of orange of the sky fades into those of wisterias, along with the other townspeople starting their busy day.

Ulfora, his journey here last night was smooth, much to his relief. The moon was on his side. The tides seemed to abide by his course, remaining calm and dormant, ensuring his journey underwater to be so waveless it was almost odd, but he believes the protection of the celestial being along with the blessing of the full moon.

Eric opted for a journey by sea to the corner of the kingdom, in his quest of fulfilling the king’s order. He needs his identity to remain a secret, and travelling by land will do least to nothing at keeping his identity under wraps.

He’s the most aware of the temperament of the ocean; the rise and recede of tides along with the people of the water, which makes the ocean by far the safest path for him to trek.

Dressed in plain tunics with a leather satchel latched across his shoulder, Eric succeeds at fitting in among the people of Ulfora, looking like much of a commoner rather than royalty himself.

His first stop is at the small eatery located at the hollowed-out tree trunks. Owned by an elf, Eric assumes. Besides stuffing his stomach, he wants to wend his way across the town to every place that has highly likely been trodden by the person he’s looking for.

Settling by the window, his assumption is made certain as he registers that most of the workers at the eatery are elves, while some of them being the vampires.

The customers entering and exiting the eatery are of all races; there are elves, vampires, and even the werewolves. Everyone is interacting in harmony; smiles could be seen plastered on their faces, they are even sharing tables. And the least that some of them do are minding their own business.

Segregation of races is non-existent. Their relationships are valued beyond their differences. Despite being a small town cloistered far at the edge of the country, the people seem to be much more accepting and unprejudiced towards each other.

Only if the people of the royal town were like this.

“Can I get your order?”

Eric is put out of his trance when a waiter approaches his table. His eyes register the appearance of the waiter before him. Black hair, hazel irises, sienna skin.

Not the one.

The waiter’s wings twitch ever so slightly but don’t go unnoticed by Eric. A sign of uneasiness.

“Mister?”

He cleared his throat as he realised he stared a little bit too long.

Not so courteous, Eric.

“Sorry. Um, may I have buttered toast with avocado and a soft poached egg? And also hot chocolate.”

“That’s all?” The wooden pencil in her grasp dances swiftly across the vellum in her other hand, jotting his order down.

“Yeah, that’s it. Thank you.”

He runs his hand through his brown locks, his shoulders sagging against the hard chair.

Pull yourself together, Eric. You got this.

>>>

He walks in and out of every store in the town, pretending to window shop and asking around for things while his eyes are scanning the faces of every people he stumbled across. He even purchased a few things to avoid suspicions, but he is yet to find the elf he’s been looking for.

He continues his walk, now aimless, but his hopes are still high. It's only his first day here, and he had only been to the town. He has not yet meandered around the housing area. He will surely find the elf, sooner or later.

As he walks past the rows of shops, he notices that the people passing him were staring, and they do little to hide it. The conversation between them comes to a halt as their eyes lay down on him, which is then followed by whispers among them.

He soon registers that a fairy walking around this town is not something common. The fairies are the rare inhabitants of this corner of the kingdom, so his presence is very much easily noticed.

That is when loneliness catches him in its embrace. He has always been on his own in the palace which made him used to the feeling. But now even in the crowds, he’s alone, and the feeling thickens.

He shrugs it off, not wanting the emotion to take control of him.

I came here for a reason. He reminds himself.

He continues walking until the number of shops decreases and the greeneries condensate. He then hears the soft sound of waves crashing upon the shore before the body of salty water comes into his sight.

“Whoa.” He didn’t notice that the sea is that majestic last night that he was there. Now that he is here in broad daylight, Eric is beyond astonished.

It takes a good few minutes of walking to get there, which explains how void the ocean is of any creature. Being alone with the clear sky roofing above his head and warm waves nibbling at his feet, allows him to think, to fully be with nature.

Eric takes his time to really take in the sight before him. The thistle sky blends into alice blue where it kisses the water. He settles into a spot on the seaboard, allowing himself to be engulfed in the warmth of the sand against his skin.

The beach was separated by a layer of lush foliage from the town, making it a perfect spot to escape from the busyness trap of day-to-day life and seek solace.

Welcome back.

Eric is dragged out of his stupor when he heard it, sending his head swivelling to the side. It was too loud to be a whisper yet only loud enough for him to hear it.

He looks around to see no one else but him along the coastline. He is certain that he was not being delirious. The whisper was prominent enough for him to be hallucinating.

Eric rises to his feet, glancing around to see no one else but himself along the stretch of the coast.

Let’s end this.

The calm waves before him suddenly become choppy, the serenity is now gone. The waves are screaming, seeming so turbulent as if it is going to pull everything in their way with them.

Let’s end this. The whisper reverberates within him, and though confusion latches its fingers on his mind, he doesn’t seem to question it. Eric doesn’t move a muscle, as if his feet were nailed down in the coarse sand.

He takes in the chaos before him, but he does nothing, entranced. The nearby trees fail to oppose the course of blowing wind thus tumbling upon each other, and the crashing sound drags Eric back to his senses. Only then, terror strikes.

CONTINUE READING

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PREVIOUS PART | MAIN MASTERLIST | NEXT PART

[jichanqz]

《9:21pm》 - Dad!Sangyeon

“What is it that he can do that I can’t?”

There was a slight tremble in Sangyeon’s voice, a sharp tinge of desperation in his tone as he balled his hands into fists. His dark hair shielded his eyes and his muscular frame was hunched over, making him look so much smaller and vulnerable despite his height towering over you. 

You could hear the chattering over in the living room, their cheeriness standing out in stark contrast to what was happening here. You would give anything to be back there yet you longed to be right here with him.

You felt guilt and shame stab incessantly in your heart and there was a strong urge for you to turn away from him, unable to look him in the eye for fear that if you did, you might make a mistake like you did the last time. Your lips were threatening to bleed with how hard you were biting on them and you took a deep breath as you looked at him with an almost nonchalant expression.

“You’re just not him-”

Before you could finish your sentence, Sangyeon had you caged in between his arms with your back pressed hard against the wall. The close proximity had you catching your breath and your heart pounding harder than it had ever pounded. As you lifted your head in shock, you found yourself staring straight into those dark eyes of his. You had nearly forgotten how intense they were and how they’d always captivated you, so much so that you nearly felt your knees buckle beneath you under his stare.

They were so full of emotions - hurt, anger and confusion. Just looking into them took the wind out of you. His jaw was taut from how he was clenching it and his words came out in a tumble.

“We… Don’t you remember the times we’d spent together?”

You hesitated, the memories threatening to overwhelm you. Of course, you did. Every single one of them. You wanted more than anything for his hands over yours, his fingers lacing in between yours. You longed to feel his strong arms wrap around your waist once more, relishing the way they would make you feel safe and protected. You missed his passionate kisses that left you breathless and hot. You reminisced the way he’d made you feel - the butterflies that you would get in your stomach - whenever he’d look at you with hisa dark, lust-filled gaze that never failed to make you feel things while your fingers were tangled in his hair or when they were grazing his back desperately.

“I…”

“Choose, y/n,” Sangyeon took a step closer, his lips now almost against your ear and his voice holding such a helpless tone, almost like a plea. 

“Me or my son?”

[jichanqz]

if i opened a ko-fi account, would anyone donate/tip?

i'm working towards making kidult a book, and it looks like i'll really need the money to make it happen. i'm losing so much motivation with every passing day, so seeing any kind of support will help me so incredibly much. even if you can't support with money, any ideas, suggestions, and ways to promote the book will be greatly appreciated. i would also love, absolutely love, any ideas on ways to improve kidults storyline (new scenes between mc and male lead, names for the kids)

i want to make this happen, i want to make it a book that people can read with a warm heart and a light chuckle. i would also love to see people describe the characters and give me a better insight on how readers view them

if there are people interested in donating, i will put the money towards promoting, editors, and illustrators

also does anyone have any ideas for a book cover? and should i open a separate tumblr for all this? is kidult even worth turning into a book? i really want to make headline a book, but i figured kidult will be an easier starter

any songs recommended for kidult? any new book titles that would suit kidult?

please send an ask or comment, i'm begging for help to make this dream happen :( also please please please reblog as much as you can to get this to spread

[jichanqz]

Hey guys, I know I don’t post much in this blog anymore and I am not exactly sure who will see this but I’m posting this because today is the Philippine Presidential Elections and, just like what other people here are already saying, we’re fighting for our lives right now.

We are fighting against the return of dictatorship in the country. We are fighting against the continuation of corruption and injustice. We are fighting for a better future. We are fighting, so that we may finally know peace.

Today, multiple issues regarding the elections have come up. Vote-Counting Machines (VCMs) “malfunctioning”, SD cards missing, people getting PAID for voting for the dictator’s son and his party, and more. Even the commission in charge of ENSURING FAIR ELECTIONS is failing to fully understand the grasp said issues, wasting people’s time and votes.

If you do find this post and read it, all I ask is that you share the news about the Philippines. Anything about today (May 9, 2022), about Halalan 2022/PH Elections 2022, about BBM and the Marcos Family, about Leni Robredo, Kiko Pangilinan, Chel Diokno and the rest of Robredo’s senatorial slate (+ Neri Colmenares),

and if this inspires you to learn everything else, then please do.

We are asking for your help, not in votes, but in sharing what is happening here to the rest of the world. Whatever happens, whatever the results are, we want the whole world to see what is going on. (But thank you to the foreign news outlets who have been speaking on this).

All the Filipinos are asking for is a fair government, where lives are recognized and uplifted. We cannot be kept in the dark again, we have had enough.

And if we need to meet in EDSA once again, then so be it.

[jichanqz]

pairing: non-idol! wooyoung x gn! reader genre: fluff, angst, slow burn word count: 12.9k warnings: profanities, brief mention of drugs as a joke. few of sexual innuendoes, any other names except for ateez that are mentioned in here are fictional. shitty ending because this user cannot just put up a good ending. apologies if there were inaccuracies regarding pronouns! ;; repetitive shit from my other works bc user is dumb </3 NOPE not proofread :’) reposted lol bc i had to make some edits </3 notes: this is for the collab event called a lot like love @woahhwa is hosting !! ♡

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

summary: blurred lines. a commonly used expression to reference a situation where things are ambiguous or unclear. this becomes blurry when they suddenly had other people enter the big picture. love, worry, jealousy, tension, yearning, excuses— the both of you think i's normal until it isn’t. you were simply nothing of strangers, neither friends, nor lovers.

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ。 listen now to: spotify. 　ﾟ･｡･ﾟ

“Heads up, stupid!” Wooyoung gives you no time to turn around before he smacks the back of your head, sending you stumbling a few inches away from the front of your flat’s door. “I said heads up,”

“Heads up two seconds before you smack me in the head? You’re a piece of shit. How about— heads up!” And you smack his head harder than he did with you, making him groan.

“Now who’s a piece of shit,” He hisses at you, glaring before he watches you walk ahead to the elevator with a hop, leaving him alone rubbing his head in pain. “Wait for me!”

Pulling your collar, Wooyoung squishes your cheeks with his other hand simply to annoy you.

“It’s so early in the morning and you’re being stupid,” Pushing his hands away, you exercised your jaw after feeling it stiffen. “Why are you such in a good mood? It’s Monday,”

“Your Mondays and mine are completely different. I only have one class and you… five. How saddening is that” Wooyoung’s mocking only makes you click your tongue in annoyance and sigh, growing tired already at the brink of day.

Wooyoung pokes on your patience until you get to your university and you feel the bag under your eyes already getting heavier with it.

“God, I hate you so much,” You mumble before pushing him for the nth time to his building, hearing him shout a ‘see you later!’ before parting ways.

“God, I hate you so much— what a fucking lie,” You already hear another mocking voice from behind you, a chuckle leaving his lips.

“Yeosang, oh my god, not you too,” You rolled your eyes, stopping in your tracks to wait for him to catch up. “Please, not at eight in the morning and with chem as my first class,”

“Okay. I’ll try again at nine,” Yeosang cheekily smiles at you and you can’t do anything more but internally groan and sigh for another time.

“Sometimes I wish I could just punch someone in the face. Legally,” You glare at your friends beside you who took a step back, feigning ignorance. “Can we just get into chem peacefully,”

“Well, if you told Wooyoung how you felt, maybe I would’ve been quiet right now,” Yeosang shrugs, chuckling when he sees you crack your knuckles. “Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed or what?”

“I woke up. Period,” Sighing, you push the big doors of your room as your face contorted in shock, almost all the seats being taken. You don’t see any available seats that are beside each other, making you push Yeosang on the chair closest to where you planned to seat, him being behind you.

“Wooyoung must’ve been up all night for god knows what reason for you to be so grumpy— oh, like always,” You hear Yeosang mumble before he takes his seat, and you only ignore him to not let your annoyance grow bigger. “I mean— I just can’t understand. Why are you letting your anger out on me? I just want what’s best for the both of you…” You hear him mumble a few more words which you just choose to ignore, blocking his words internally as you doodled around your notebook, waiting for the professor who was taking so much time flirting with another professor just outside the doors.

Feeling someone poke your shoulders, you groan internally as your patience is put to test again. Yeosang is so fucking dense sometimes— but he’s always got a point, which always makes you the bad guy. It’s not you’ve never considered confessing, it’s just that there were reasons not to.

Wooyoung having someone to flirt with every week was one of them.

And it’s not like Yeosang doesn’t know that, Yeosang was one of Wooyoung’s closest friends too.

“He—”

“Yeosang, I fucking swear to god— you’re fucking annoy— oh, Hwa,” Your glare softened as you looked apologetically at the man right behind you, who apparently had to switch seats with Yeosang for god knows what reason.

“Sorry, did I bother you?” You turn your gaze to Yeosang beside him momentarily, shooting him a sharp glare as he snickers, embarrassed for you.

“No, sorry. That fuck just pushed me to my limit I thought it was him,” You pull a smile on your face, whispering but audible only for the both of you. “Anyway, did you need anything?”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry,” Seonghwa giggles, looking down his notes, then back to you, as if hesitating to proceed with whatever he was going to ask you, the tip of his ears turning red. Peeking at his notes, you chuckle when you see his torn expression.

“What about chemical bonding did you not understand? I can help you,” You tap his notes, taking his attention away from it.

“Well that’s embarrassing,” He mumbles, tucking his chin in his chest as he scrunches his nose.

“Nothing’s embarrassing when you’re just asking for help.”

“Okay then, since you assured me already… How about everything,” Seonghwa closes his notes to smile at you apologetically, “I can adjust to your schedule, I really just need help with bonds and you’re the closest I know that actually knows something about chem,” You chuckle at his words, nodding before you agree to meet up a few times to cover the topic.

After you turned your back on him since the professor had already stepped inside after half an hour flirting to start the class, Seonghwa blushes as he fans himself, unable to keep the growing smile on his face.

Yeosang doesn’t fail to see this, and the whole interaction.

“It’s not going how I wanted it to….” He mumbles, thinking about his plan and how Seonghwa was ruining his plans.

“What the hell got you thinking that deep you didn’t realize the class is over?” You push his forehead with your index finger, Yeosang zoning out catching your attention after exchanging numbers with Seonghwa. “Are you good?”

“Yeah,” Yeosang gives you his signature teasing smirk, getting his bag to walk with you to your next class. Though he isn’t in it, it became a habit of his to walk you to your next class after having one together. “Just… thoughts being thunk,”

“Oh. You think?” You pull a pun on him, pressing your lips to a thin line to stop yourself from snorting at your own joke.

“Heh, funny,” Yeosang rolled his eyes, and he can’t help overthink how you became brighter after interacting with Seonghwa.

He needs to have some changes in his plans.

“Can you please..” You groan, pushing him out of the sofa after dropping dead in your house last night, “Get the fuck up already!” Successfully pushing him out, he finally opens one eye in irritation, furrowing his brows at you.

“What the fuck, y/n?” He mumbles, yet you just stare at him with a sour expression, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I’d rather absorb all of your glaring— though, I should’ve been getting a thank you, than you sulking for a month and a half because I didn’t wake you up for your class— which, let me emphasize, after you crash in my house,” You snicker, leaving him in his room.

“Wait, what time is it?” He shouts, making you stop on your tracks to peek at his door again with a smirk on your face.

“Nine-fifty. Ten minutes before your first class,” Scrunching your nose teasingly, Wooyoung screeches as he stops midway to flopping back to the sofa, scurrying to your bathroom to wash. You sigh, your feet already dragging you to your closet to get him his clothes that had always been… there.

You simply laugh at him, feeling bad for him to wake up in such an hour because he was unable to get better schedules. The only good thing that has come along with college was your insomniac ass and living under the same roof with you.

“I’ll get going,” You don’t know whether he was already running late, what you wanted was just to take a bite of your sweet, freshly made sandwich... And he just snatched it away. Waving it in front of you with an annoying smile, he leaves the flat but not before leaving a peck on the crown of your head, “Thanks,”

Letting out a sigh, you didn’t even realize you were holding your breath ever since as your eyes stayed on the door that just closed.

Ignoring whatever feeling was settling on your chest, you shrugged it away as you prepared another sandwich, wanting the day to be over with, in such an early hour.

wooyo: late .. but kinda not. sneaked in successfully lol

A chuckle graces your lips, staring a little too much at the selfie that came along with his message. Getting struck by reality with the smell of burnt bread, you slap yourself lightly, cursing at yourself.

“What the fuck am I even on?” You ask yourself, growing conscious of the unpleasantly pleasant feeling on your chest as you munch on your lunch.

“You having drugs?” Your blockmate looks at you weirdly, trying to snatch one of your fries after seeing you zone out. Swatting his hand, he retracts his own hand away.

“Don’t even try, Yeo,” Your eyes shift at him, glaring. “And no, I am not on drugs.” You sigh, propping a fry on your mouth. “I just... Keep on having this unsettling feeling on my chest,” You should’ve known better than to share with Yeosang after he throws random remarks of you getting a check-up, or maybe foreseeing the future, or something like...

“Or you’re in love,” Yeosang cheekily remarks, eyeing you as you choke on the fry that failed to chew.

“Fuck you,” You groan, giving him your middle finger. Karma hitting you fast, you choked on your food as Yeosang just points at you while laughing.

“Hey,” A warm hand pats your back, taking the seat beside you. “You good?”

Your eyes stayed at Wooyoung, pondering why your feelings for the man from when you were still kids had impossibly never left until you’re both clearly grown adults.

“No!” You shout, pointing at Yeosang. “No, I am not.” You watch Yeosang stick out his tongue, raising his brows teasingly when Wooyoung takes the seat beside you.

“Your friend’s got issues,” Yeosang turns to Wooyoung, making you kick his feet under the table. The both of you exchange funny faces for a minute as the man beside you only watches in amusement, a sigh leaving his lips when it didn’t seem to stop soon if he didn’t interfere.

“Now stop,” Wooyoung tugs on your hand, “What are you even talking about anyway?” He curiously raises his brow, taking one of your fries. Yeosang gasps dramatically at the sight of you not stopping Wooyoung, but before you could let him say anything, you push your food in the middle of the table.

“Nothing,” You smile at Wooyoung, gathering your things. “I have a class in ten, I need to go,” Habitually squeezing his hand under the table, you didn’t think much of it as you scurried out of the university cafeteria, desperate to get out of Wooyoung’s radar.

“Yeosang’s got issues,” Mumbling nonsense, you shake your head until you step foot in your room, though you’re half an hour early. “He’s out of his mind. Sometimes I wanna just—” You dropped your notes quite harshly on the table, trying to shake off all of what you’re thinking and wanted to sleep it off.

“y/n, hey, library later—,”

“I said no!” You hiss under gritted teeth, turning to face the man beside you. “Shit, Seonghwa, sorry,” You harshly ran your hands on your face, inhaling and exhaling to try and breathe normally.

“Sorry, did I scare you?” A chuckle leaves Seonghwa’s lips, sitting beside you.

“No, no... Sorry, I was just... Preoccupied. What are you doing here early?” You change the subject, smiling at him.

“Should be asking you that. I’m always early and you’re always a minute before actual class,” He laughs, opening his laptop.

“Oh... Am I?” You laugh it off with him, immediately feeling the atmosphere get lighter. Seonghwa was the first friend you had made on your electives, having no courage to make conversation with the other people in your class except the man who sat beside you, which was him, which also resulted in you having more than a few conversations on other classes you had together.

“Right, chem, I think we need to cram,” Seonghwa starts to apologize for having to cram because he had some varsity training a week before the finals. “Are you really okay with that?” Seonghwa asks once more, an apologetic look on his face.

“Hwa, it’s fine. There’s nothing much to do anyway.” You nod, even winking at him to make him believe you that everything was fine. “So, we start later?”

Stretching your arms as high as you can, a groan leaves your lips as you feel your bones getting put back into their places. A sigh of relief then when you slumped back on your seat, seeing Seonghwa gather your things for you.

“I’m really sorry,” He mumbles, handing you your bag.

“Hey, I thought we were done with that?” You chuckle, getting your things. “You should go back to your training.” Patting his arm as a sign of goodbye.

“No, I can walk you home, I already told coach,” He insists, but you decline. “I can really do that much for you, y/n.”

“Hwa, I can manage. My flat’s literally—,”

“y/n.” A fuming Wooyoung walks to your side, cupping your cheeks to observe whether you’re hurt or not. “Why the fuck is your phone off?”

“Ah,” You reach for your phone in your pocket, smiling sheepishly. “Turned it off because I wanted to focus. Wait here,” You turn to Seonghwa who awkwardly stood there, watching you and Wooyoung being.. Lovey-dovey? “I can really, really manage now, Hwa. Wooyoung, Seonghwa. Seonghwa, Wooyoung. Wooyoung’s been my friend since diaper days, and Woo, Seonghwa’s my friend and I just had to teach him chem so I’m really sorry I didn’t get to your calls,” Your hand squeezes his for a second, just like how you always did when you knew you did something wrong. “You should go now, Hwa. I’ll see you again tomorrow,”

You reflect Seonghwa’s smile as you watch him jog away from the both of you, waving as he runs inside the halls of the university.

“Woo, let’s go?” You ask hesitantly, pressing your lips to a thin line. If Wooyoung was quiet, he was angry. If Wooyoung was sulking, you definitely did something. Wooyoung ignores you and starts walking, still wary of your presence behind him because that’s what he initially came for, anyway.

You sigh, opening your phone to see some of his messages and missed calls.

wooyo: hey !! just realized u stormed off quite early a while ago lol wooyo: did something happen ?? i just got home .. well,, yours wooyo: you’re not here ? wooyo: anyway maybe u just ran some errands wooyo: it’s been an hour since ur last class wtf r u ? wooyo: why tf is ur phone off ? answer my call ? wooyo: i’m cooking dinner. if u’re still not home by then idk what to do wooyo: i’m looking for u

Wooyoung had cooked dinner in your house, and of course, he had to be in yours rather than his. He walks by his own flat, and you hear your door unlocking, a pout forming in your lips as you get welcomed by a sweet scent of homemade food.

“Young..” You whine, using the nickname you always used when appealing to him. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I’m sorry I turned off my phone.” You tailed him all the way to the kitchen, glancing at the food on the table. “Are you really going to do this? Are you really going to ignore me? Are you really just going to let the food go to waste? Are you really going to make me eat by myself? Are you really—,”

“I was worried, y/n.” Wooyoung harshly turns to you and you shrink on your place, looking down. “You never went out after class because you never said you had friends. Not that you don’t have to have friends but— you get what I mean. And no one knew, not even Yeosang, where you were. With your phone turned off, what the hell am I supposed to think of, then?” He sighs, his heart melting at the sight of you frowning.

“I’m sorry, okay? It wouldn’t happen again,” You give him a small smile, waiting for him to accept. He knows he couldn’t get angry at you for more than an hour anyway, so he engulfs you in a hug to show you how much he really was worried, pecking your temple as you swayed side by side lightly.

“I was just really worried, I’m sorry too,” Wooyoung mumbles, staring right at your eyes. “Now, let’s go eat the now-cold food because of your irresponsibility,” He finally ruffles your hair, tugging your hand to the dining room with big smiles on your faces.

You internally sigh— it wasn’t the first time that Wooyoung did this so why the hell were you overthinking it now?

“It’s Yeosang’s fault,” You mumble through gritted teeth before taking a seat in front of Wooyoung, devouring the food he’s made for you.

“You’re still not going to walk home with me today?” It was only the third time. Wooyoung asks with a pout, watching you put your notes in your bag as you bid farewell. “It’s lonely,” Whining, he tugs on your pinky to gain your attention. “I go to sleep without seeing you safely go home, I go to univ then when I look in your house, you’re not in your room anymore,”

“Well, I sense jealousy,” Yeosang mumbles, and you stop for a second to glare at him. Wooyoung acts like he didn’t hear it, continuing to bother you. “What?”

“Woo, you’re overreacting. You go to sleep early because you need to wake up without me having to,” You sigh, shooting him a glance. “And I leave early because Seonghwa’s having a hard time with chem, I need to help a friend, don’t I?”

“That man can teach himself! We have the technology, books, are you kidding me?” He drags, almost like a kid who didn’t get his favorite candies bought.

“You have Yeosang,” Pointing your notebook at Yeosang, he points at himself and even looks behind him.

“Oh, me? No thanks, I’ve had enough of him in my six classes with him,” Despite the innocent smile on his face, Yeosang could be as blunt as he wanted to be, making you chuckle.

“You think you’re the only one? I’ve had enough of you too!” Wooyoung retorts, his voice rising a little bit higher than normal.

“Stop bickering. I need to go now,” Squeezing Wooyoung’s hand and waving at you.

“Aren’t you cold? Who the fuck wears an oversized shirt half to winter?!” Wooyoung asks when you’re jogging away, and you only shrug him off with a wave.

“Give up your coat then,” He hears Yeosang snicker, taking a bite of his burger nonchalantly.

“Why would I? It’s literally y/n’s fault?” Wooyoung hisses, but Yeosang does nothing but mock him.

“Your loss, then,” Wooyoung feigns ignorance at Yeosang’s last remark, snatching his fries to avenge his pride.

wooyo: make sure u order a warm drink ! wooyo: don’t have time nursing u if u get sick wooyo: but i’d rather nurse u than finish my reqs tho wooyo: not saying u should get sick for me to avoid them but

A chuckle leaves your lips as you read the messages, momentarily forgetting about the presence in front of you.

“Wooyoung?” Seonghwa asks, making you jolt and shove the phone in the depths of your pocket.

“Yeah, he’s kinda frantic about everything,”

“Everything about you,” Seonghwa mumbles under his breath, twirling the pen in his hand. “Tell me about him while we have a break?” He suggests, wanting to keep the atmosphere light instead of trying to whack your brains focusing on teaching him.

“Why Wooyoung, though?” Seonghwa thinks you’re cute when you pout, but nevertheless, you feed his curiosity. “Like how I introduced him to you... He’s been with me since diaper days. Our moms were the best-est friends since middle school, so I think it was really a given that their children literally grew up attached to the hip,” Reminiscing your childhood with Wooyoung as you jot down some notes for him, Seonghwa sees a smile leave your lips. “We’ve done everything together. Cutting classes, graduating, applying for college, everything you can think of.” But apparently, that wasn’t what Seonghwa was curious about.

“Have you never liked him?” It was already self-explanatory that you did everything together since you were childhood friends. What he was curious about was your feelings toward the man.

Did you never like him? Have you ever seen Wooyoung as a man? Because if he had been beside you all your life, up ‘til now, why hasn’t something sparked between the both of you?

He totally wasn’t asking this because he was threatened by Wooyoung. Nope, totally not.

“You should’ve asked that instead the first time,” Seonghwa shoots up at your remark, ready to apologize if ever it offended you but you only playfully glare at him, squinting your eyes in suspicion. “Well.. to answer your question..” You ponder about it a lot. If it was just a one-time thing, you would’ve lied through your teeth. But it wasn’t, and you’ve been feeling so much tension around Wooyoung especially after Yeosang has been doting you about it. But you weren’t going to tell Seonghwa that. “I think it’s impossible to not see the only man who you’ve been with since childhood as a man. Of course, there would be times. But I don’t think much of it,” Shrugging, you amazed yourself at how you could tell a somewhat half-truth and half-lie in one sitting.

“Oh,” Seonghwa hides the small smile that has begun to form, looking away shyly. “We should stop here and continue tomorrow. It’s getting late for you,” Biting the insides of his cheek, he starts to gather your things and his. “I should walk you home.”

“Seonghwa, you really don’t have to. My flat’s only five blocks away.”

“And in those five blocks away, you don’t know what could happen.”

“You shouldn’t jinx it then!”

“I’m not pertaining to maniacs! W-What if..” Seonghwa shakes his head for ideas, “What if you trip over some random rock you didn’t see? I’ll feel bad!”

“Hwa,”

“Or a rat passes by you and you squeal and bump your head on the lamppost—,”

“It’s half to winter. You think there’ll be rats around?” You get your bag from him, “I’ll be fine, Hwa. Just get your ass to your training. I’ll text you when I get home so don’t worry,” Starting to walk away, Seonghwa just stares at you helplessly. “I’ll see you tomorrow!”

Inserting the key to your flat, an exhausted smile escapes your lips as you feel the warmth finally hitting you, and a scent of a meal being cooked.

“I’m home,” You whisper to yourself tiredly, dragging your feet to the sofa.

“You’re here! Wait for a sec! This will be done in two,” You hear Wooyoung shout from the kitchen, the first time from the three times he’s here in your flat. You just hum in reply, eyelids resting as you keep them shut. “Hey, hey, hey, eat first before you sleep,” Wooyoung pulls you up, and the sudden pull makes you stand out of balance, only saved by Wooyoung’s hand by your waist.

“Thanks,” You mumble, escaping his grip awkwardly. You were about to walk to the dining table when Wooyoung stopped you, eyeing you from head to toe. “What?”

“Who’s flannel is that?” Wooyoung swears he had never seen the flannel before, because whatever clothes you had, he had already borrowed and or never returned, and vice versa to you.

“Oh,” You gasp, eyeing the flannel Seonghwa let you wear for temporary warmth instead of freezing to death. “Seonghwa let me borrow his. Said he had a coat in his locker anyway. I forgot to give it back,”

Wooyoung watches you eye the flannel, running your hands on its sleeves as you ponder on how to wash the type of clothing. He just observes, and maybe, just maybe, rethinks what Yeosang had said earlier.

“Your loss, then.”

That was the first time Wooyoung saw a glimpse of the line between friends and lovers blurry. Maybe.

“Woo, wake up,” You groggily step into his flat, rubbing your eyes. When you had finally finished a project at such a late hour, it was your body turning against sleep now. “It’s nine and you have class at ten,”

Wooyoung looks comfy. You think, with your one eye open. You’re just going to sit on the corner of the bed to wake him up, nothing more. You were tired last night, but insomnia says no to sleep.

“Woo,” You shake him once more, but lazier. Wooyoung just groans, shifting on his bed to pop one eye open and seeing you so tired, now half-sleeping in the corner of his bed.

Now with both half-asleep people in one secluded room, Wooyoung just tugs on your arm to make you lay beside him as you helplessly fall against his arm, finding comfort in his warmth.

Five minutes, you think. You wouldn’t possibly fall asleep. So you’re giving Wooyoung five minutes, then wake him up again.

But Wooyoung’s arms tighten around you, making you feel cozy and safe and.. Sleepy. The tiny bed does nothing of discomfort when Wooyoung was basically pulling you so close to him, yet so comfortable.

You swore, just five minutes. You swore you were still awake. Well, not until you realized it’s been five hours.

“Woo, what the fuck!” You squeal, swatting his arm away from you. You take another look at his phone from the bedside table, confirming it had already been five hours. ”You missed your class!”

It was the sleep, Wooyoung thinks. It was the haziness from sleeping thinking— who cares when he just had the best sleep of his life?

It wasn’t the first time you both slept on one bed, it was just the first time in a while you both had slept together. He missed the feeling, he missed having you by himself.

“Get up, asshole!” You pinch the little of his skin, making him jump out of bed. “You missed your class!” You repeat, growing anxious.

“Chill, a day won’t possibly hurt?” Wooyoung rubs his arm you just pinched, still a little dazed from the slumber. He chuckles at your bed hair, pointing at it. “Cute,”

Your brows furrow, thinking you misheard it. But then when your hands run through your hair, your ears start to feel hot as you run out of his room to his bathroom.

“I said five minutes. How the fuck did time fly so fast it had been five hours?” Washing your face, you looked at yourself in the mirror. “Did I actually sleep for five hours?”

It was the first time in years you even slept for more than two hours. What magic does Wooyoung’s bed have for you to have fallen asleep for that long?

“Are you going to take a whole year or what? My bladder is going to burst,” You hear Wooyoung groan at the other side of the door, knocking.

Opening the door, Wooyoung bursts in as he pushes you out, but you didn’t lose the chance to poke through his abdomen as your laugh resonated in the whole apartment, along with Wooyoung’s whines.

“Are you going to the sophomore party?” Wooyoung cautiously asks but you fail to see it, focusing on your breakfast after Wooyoung had prepared one after you transferred to your flat.

“Not if you’re not,” You nonchalantly answer, shrugging. You continued to munch on your food, fork twirling on your fingers. “Still can’t believe that they’re throwing that party when we’re halfway through the year. Like—,”

“I got asked out,” Wooyoung blurts out, making you drop the fork noisily to the plate.

“What?” Feeling your heart stop, you try breathing calmly through your nose to not send Wooyoung in worry.

“I said I got asked out,” Wooyoung stares right through your eyes, “Han asked me out last week,” His voice comes out as a whisper, keeping his eyes on you. He’s been keeping it for a week now because he didn’t want to drop the bomb when you were tired and exhausted from university. He thinks he could’ve resolved it alone, but he still wanted to talk it out with you for any reaction he wants out of you.

Of course, it was all him. He didn’t even know what he was expecting, yet there was this feeling in the pit of his stomach he can’t fathom.

He wants you to say something.

“That’s good!” You gasp, even clapping.

Well, that definitely wasn’t the something he wanted to hear.

“Jung Wooyoung— your charm is finally working!”

Then why wasn’t it working on you? Wooyoung thinks, of course, it was just in his mind. He was just curious, that’s all.

“Go on, then!” Wooyoung feels his chest wilting when he hears that from you, yet he didn’t even know why.

Or he didn’t want to acknowledge it.

“Are you sure?” Wooyoung confirms, his voice fading as he picked on his food which was rare.

“Woo,” You take his hand out of habit, “It’s time you get laid,” You joke around, but Wooyoung can’t seem to laugh.

Feeling his chest was too heavy for the atmosphere, he finally stands up and gets his phone, wallet, and bag.

“Maybe I should,” It broke you. The smile on your face says otherwise, though.

With a nod, Wooyoung walks out of the dining room with a small smile. When he did, your smile drops and you continuously deeply breathe, calming your heart as if it made the pain in your chest fade.

“Ah, right,” Wooyoung pops back in and you swore your smile grew back as fast as lightning. “Where are your keys?”

“My keys? In the living room, why?” Wooyoung ignores you and walks to the living room to get it, showing it to you.

“I’m confiscating it,” He raises his eyebrow at you, waving your house key between his fingers. “From now on, you’re walking home with me. No more overtime studying or projects. If you do, or if I do, the other is tagging along. No ifs, no buts,” He winks, hopping out of the flat.

It scared you how Wooyoung made you feel confused and flattered in a span of seconds.

It scares you how you‘re starting to see Wooyoung in another light, nothing new, but oh-so-familiar light.

It scared you how this time around, you realize that there is no exit for your feelings to the man.

You hear a sigh once you closed your door, feeling different now that you aren’t double-checking your things for your keys. When you turn around, the landlady was already standing there with a soft glare, almost as if warning you with something.

“You two,” She points at your door and your neighbor’s door— Wooyoung’s, “Why don’t you just live together?”

“What?” A soft, polite expression leaves your lips, “A man and a woman? Living together? No thanks ma’am,” You chuckle awkwardly, grip tightening on your backpack strap.

“What? You’re together anyway, aren’t you? And you’re always on either flat, just get your things and live with him— or him with you! I could gain another tenant with that idea,” She suggests, and you could only shake your head almost too actively.

“Oh, we aren’t together like that! Definitely, not, no,” You chuckle, and you avoid any further questioning or just the conversation to stop as you try to walk away. “We’re just friends. Childhood friends— yeah that’s what we are,” You bow to end the conversation, but she just keeps on surprising you.

“It’s obvious who holds feelings,” She chuckles lightheartedly, making you turn to her once again with wide eyes. “I mean— I’ve asked him a million times already. Never once did he not consider the idea,” You only look down, embarrassed and a little flushed about what the landlady had just said. “Go before you’re late.”

You don’t know whether she meant with your best friend which is also her tenant, or just literally you rushing off to class— or both. You just bow again to rush to your class with Yeosang, who immediately welcomed you in university with relentless teasing, as if it was any other day.

Wooyoung didn’t know that with that, everything would change. He didn’t know that with wanting to have a reaction out of you, the consequences he had to pay were worse.

“Yeosang, where’s y/n?” He asks, furrowing his eyebrows as he takes his usual seat in the cafeteria, at the table with Yeosang and you.

“You didn’t see y/n? Man, y/n literally just left,” Yeosang interestingly raises his brow back to Wooyoung, craning his neck. “Did you two fight or something?”

“As much as I am informed, no?”

“Why the fuck is your tone like that? You didn’t know if you fought?” Yeosang shakes his head in disgrace, eyeing Wooyoung disgustingly. “You definitely said something.”

“What the hell do you know,” Wooyoung shakes his head at Yeosang, too preoccupied to bicker around as the thought of you avoiding him because of what he said lingers in his head.

It was a good few minutes when he was suddenly kicked in his shin, resulting in him groaning in pain and glaring at the person in question.

“What the fuck, Sang?!” He holds on to dear life as he massages the said part, ignoring Yeosang’s intentional coughs. “The fuck’s your problem?” As he turned back to glare at Yeosang once more, he was surprised to see him innocently smiling and eyeing the person beside him. “Han!” Wooyoung embarrassingly shifts in his place, ignoring the sharp pain in his leg. “What are you doing here?”

“Woo, hi, sorry, I just wanted to ask if.. Uh,” Han bites their bottom lip, shy to ask in front of Yeosang as their eyes trailed to Yeosang.

“Yeo, I forgot my..” Wooyoung hears your voice booming from the back and he immediately spins on his seat to face you, “..wallet.” You stop on your tracks, even exerting an effort to stop breathing at an awfully familiar face beside Wooyoung.

Wooyoung almost shakes his head, runs up to you, and blurts any excuses he could and can to explain what was happening until he sees Seonghwa on your tail, looking at him.

You quietly gasp at the sight as you gulp the forming lump on your throat, playfully winking at Wooyoung.

“Y’know what,” You walk behind Yeosang, smile sweetly sickening, “I’ll just take Yeosang as a whole,” You linked your arms with Yeosang, taking his things and food with him as you nod at Wooyoung. “You’re so bad at reading the atmosphere, Sang,” Wooyoung hears you mumble before you slowly fade from his sight, disregarding the one in front of him.

“Right,” He feels Han uncomfortably shift in their place, waiting for Wooyoung to acknowledge them. “You were saying..?”

“I uh... Wanted to ask whether you’re still up for... You know,” Han shrinks in the seat, growing embarrassed at the overly handsome man.

“Sophomore party?” Wooyoung smiles, almost apologetically. He wanted to decline for reasons being one: you, and two: you again but in another number to add another reason.

Almost.

Wooyoung thinks for a second, a mere second— and sees Seonghwa ruffle your hair from afar.

A scoff leaves his lips, in disbelief of what he just saw. You never liked that. You never liked anyone touching your hair. Not even him. Yet he sees that smile— that one smile he can fathom even miles afar, that smile that he unbelievably finds something he should gatekeep, growing on your lips.

“Of course— Actually, no, are you up for a date?”

He thinks he was doing the right thing.

———

“Yeo, me and Hwa are just going to pass something to the office, you should go now,” Letting Yeosang finish his food before leaving, he snickers. “What?”

“You’re an idiot,” Yeosang sticks his tongue out, your brows furrowed as he scurried away, a chuckle leaving your lips and you hear Seonghwa snort.

“Your friend’s funny,” Seonghwa starts walking as you tail him, glancing back last time to where Yeosang had gone.

“He’s got the most brain cells though,” Your conversation was only full of laughs and jokes, and as thankful as you are for Seonghwa, he made you momentarily forget the small heartbreak you’re going through.

“Should I walk you home?” Seonghwa asks, his eyes squinting at the dark sky. “It looks like it’s going to rain,”

“No need, I need to wait for Wooyoung here. As I said, he’s kinda frantic about everything and we kinda agreed to,” You shake your hands, smiling at him.

He gives you a small smile back, sighing.

What a waste, he liked you. Not that something was wrong with you— it was just dead obvious you held feelings for another.

“You like him,” Seonghwa squints his eyes at you, acting suspiciously. You just widen your eyes, snorting.

“Me? What made you say that, Mr. Know-it-all?” You crane your neck back, waiting for him to say something. Were you that obvious?

“I just know,” He taps your forehead with his index finger lightly, confidently crossing his arms over his chest.

You sigh in defeat, your smile slowly subsiding.

“Maybe I do,” You just mumble, before pushing Seonghwa away for him to start walking. “Go now, smarty ass,” Seonghwa kept his eyes on you for more than a minute while he walked away backward until he almost tripped on a random rock and did only wave at you.

The friendly interaction between you and Seonghwa wasn’t so friendly in another’s eyes.

Wooyoung scoffs once more, walking to you with big strides.

Actually, he just passes by you with a sulking expression. You just failed to see that.

“Hey, Woo! Wait for me,” He didn’t even realize he was getting rained on when you jogged to him with the umbrella in your hand. “Don’t you have one? You always make sure I have mine!” You scold, scooting closer to him to make sure you were both safe under the umbrella.

Wooyoung’s heart skips a beat or two when he feels your arm snake around his shoulder to protect himself from the rain.

“You’re getting rained on, come closer,” You whined, trying to get the both of you under the umbrella. “As much as you don’t want to nurse me, I don’t want to nurse you too,”

“Give me that,” Wooyoung takes the umbrella from you harshly, splashing some of the rain on you. He shrugs your arm off of him, only then doing the same to you to bring you closer. He doesn’t talk until you both got safely inside the warmth of your apartment, making you rather pissed.

“Why are you being so bitchy? Did I do something wrong again?” You ask, a sigh audible even though you try to hide it. Wooyoung doesn’t respond, making his way to the elevator with large steps. “Wooyoung!” Tailing him, you roll your eyes at the sudden outburst of nothingness from him. “Jung Wooyoung!”

“Nothing. You did nothing,” You could’ve stopped him from agreeing to go to the party with Han. “You did nothing,” Wooyoung tries to suppress his anger— because he himself knows that there’s no reason to be angry with you. Yet he feels like it.

“Then did something happen? What’s with the shift of your mood today?” Your voice softens, looking worriedly at him.

Wooyoung hesitates. He smacks his lips together, looking around the hallway in case something could calm him down and give him an answer.

“I plan to take Han to a date,” Wooyoung drops, and you stiffen. The air suddenly gets cold, full of tension as Wooyoung waits for you to respond, a little bit of hope blooming in him that you would stop him, he thinks. He is your best friend. At least grow a bit protective of him.

Lame excuses.

“Nice!” You squeal, clapping as you beamed the brightest smile Wooyoung swore was the first time you gave him. “Jung Wooyoung, you’re finally aging, I can’t believe it...” A pout forms on your lips, caressing his cheek proudly as you faked a cry, forgetting about how he acted up just minutes ago.

Wooyoung sighs internally, thinking maybe you, returning his feelings— that he wasn’t even sure of, was down the drain. He softly pushes your hand away, partly tired and partly... heartbroken.

“I’m going in now. I’m a bit tired,” He excuses himself, only hearing a small sure from you before he entirely closed the door behind him.

Leaving you with nothing but your tears that had their own life when it streamed down your face. You chuckle it away, wiping it with your sleeves with a hopeless smile on your face.

As long as he’s happy.

“I’m going feral,” You mumbled, Seonghwa and Yeosang only staring at you while they hid their laughs. “Are you seriously— okay, wow, I can’t believe the both of you. Why did I even tell anyone?” You scoffed, throwing the crumpled tissue papers you’ve been fiddling with to their faces.

It’s been weeks since Wooyoung had started spending less time with you and more with Han, so you got to spend more time with Seonghwa and Yeosang.

Seeing how down you were, Seonghwa and Yeosang eye each other and sigh, trying to think of any words that can comfort you.

“Okay, let’s try this. What about you talk to Woo—,”

“Weren’t you listening to me? God, Wooyoung is so up to Han— no offense, Han’s ass! Attached to the hip, that is. As if Han has been there Wooyoung’s whole life,” Rolling your eyes, Seonghwa snorts.

“Okay, then, avoid him back—,”

“Are you crazy? We’re best friends, we literally live in the same apartment building. And if I suddenly avoid him? He’s gonna think something’s up! That’s not better than anything!”

“Then I guess take the time without him for gran—,”

“You know what, Seonghwa. Don’t even try anymore.” Yeosang stops Seonghwa, tossing his hand over Seonghwa’s chest. “Never gonna listen,” He shakes his head, pointing his lips toward you.

“Look, whatever it is, whether you want to get rid of those feelings or not,” Seonghwa waves a finger in front of you, “I’m sure it’ll be gone. Just stop pondering about it and go on with your life. You can’t seriously do anything at this point,”

“That made me remember!” You shout, garnering not just Seonghwa and Yeosang’s attention but everybody’s, making you shrink shamefully. “Yeosang, are you free next week Saturday?” You shift on your seat to face Yeosang, who was quietly munching on his chicken.

“Why? I have cramming to do for the next weekends,”

“Even on a holiday?” Slouching defeatedly when he nods, you pouted at Yeosang, then your lips swiftly turned upside down to a smile when you turned to Seonghwa. “You?” With the biggest, and possibly fakest smile on your face, you fluttered your eyes to him and appealed.

“..Me?” Seonghwa looks around, pointing to himself. When he turns to you with your smile unerased, he blinks. Yeosang snorts, knowledgeable about something you didn’t know. “I— well— I don’t know— but..”

“But what?” You leaned closer, growing impatient for his answer. “Come on, it’s just a yes or no question,”

“I can make time for you,” Seonghwa mumbles, Yeosang hears. Sometimes he thinks he has selective hearing.

But you didn’t.

“Say what?” You furrowed your brows, leaning closer than a while ago. “Faster, I have to go home and finish my reqs,”

“I said I’ll see!” Seonghwa utters clearly, chuckling at your smile that just keeps growing.

“Okay! I got your word!” You squeal, preparing to go home as you pack your things.

“What’s with Saturday anyway?” Yeosang asks, curiously raising his eyebrow.

You sigh, lowering your head to hide the drop of your smile.

“It’s a holiday... And it’s just a family occurrence to be home on holiday. And I uh... usually go with Wooyoung,” You pressed your lips to a thin line, taking a seat momentarily to tend to their questions.

“Then what’s the problem? You’re going to take your petty argument to your death? Just go with him!” Yeosang talks in disbelief, pointing at you.

“Okay— first of all, it’s not an argument,” You mocked. “It’s an internal problem with me.” Rolling your eyes, Yeosang does the same as Seonghwa just stares at the both of you bewilderedly. “It’s just that... Our parents always expect us to be more than friends whenever we come by and— well, what would you do if Wooyoung brought Han?”

“Will he bring Han?” Yeosang squints his eyes, chicken pressed in his lips as he waits for your retort.

“I said what if—,”

“And if he doesn’t?” Yeosang chuckles when he sees you glare at him, raising his hands in a yielding manner. His plan was totally going well, well, with the addition of Seonghwa, it was going smoother.

“I should go now,” Your eyes never leave Yeosang, standing up slowly. “Hwa. Don’t forget,” Your eyes instantly light up when you land it on Seonghwa, smiling. “Bye!” You wave at both of them as you hopped your way to the waiting shed.

“You can make time, huh?” Yeosang nudges Seonghwa’s shoulder with a teasing smile, “Just yeet y/n out of Wooyoung, you’ve been liking y/n for quite some time already,” Seonghwa turns to him with a questioning look, “What? I’m very observant. Of course, I’ll know. Wait— scratch that, y/n’s just too... Oblivious. Might I say, dumb, sometimes?” Yeosang chuckles, seeing you hop by the windows as you waved one last time.

A hum leaving your lips as the shed comes into sight, Wooyoung should probably be waiting there right now.

The only problem was, he wasn’t.

“Oh?” You curiously looked around, finding that one familiar top of the head around the university’s waiting shed.

Your back slumps when you fail to see any hints of him, a pout on your lips. Ever since he had told you about taking Han to a date, that day was the last day you had walked home together with him, Wooyoung having always walked home first, leaving you alone and your house already, safely, unlocked with his knowledge it was you walking in.

But this wasn’t the first time you were searching for him before going home. Your heart can’t stop feeling heavier and heavier whenever you leave the university grounds without him.

“He’s probably home,” You nodded at yourself, a tight-lipped smile plastered on your face as you walked home.

Fiddling with your fingers, your mind was occupied by Wooyoung and your feelings. But out of all the questions in your head including that physics question in your last class, one question tops it all, and it just had to be the most cliche of all questions.

Why did it have to be Wooyoung?

It could’ve been Seonghwa or Yeosang for fuck’s sake. It runs in your head all over again, because he has been there all your life. Feelings come and go, how come yours toward him doesn’t? How come all your life, there wasn’t a time your feelings had faded for Wooyoung?

You shake your head in hopes of shaking the questions off with it, stepping out of the elevator with a stretch of your neck.

“The fuck?” Your hands twist and turn the knob, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion as it is still locked. “Wooyoung?” You call out, knocking on his door.

Nothing.

Nothing but radio silence responded to you, making you sigh.

You shouldn’t have let Wooyoung take your keys. Sliding down the wall with a thud, tiredness fills you up as you reach for your phone in your pocket, only for you to heave another sigh when the red battery blinks at you.

“Fine. Waiting wouldn’t hurt.” You huff, taking your assignments out of your bag as you start to answer, growing mindless of the time.

Well, it wasn’t until you finished your ten assignments in one sitting, your thesis paper being the only one left to do on your bag. Stretching your back, your head turns to the small window in the hallway, the moon already beaming at you.

It’s been three hours. Three hours you’ve been waiting, yet no signs of Wooyoung anywhere. You didn’t even know if he’ll come by tonight.

As if your whole body wasn’t exhausted three hours ago, it was rather filled with yet another surge of exhaustion as drowsiness took over your body, hugging your knees to your chest to warm yourself up as you let the sleep overcome you.

Jesus take the wheel.

———

Wooyoung gets off of the elevator with a tired sigh, stretching his neck as his eyes closed in relief, and takes the corner of the hallway, vividly seeing your balled-up form at the farthest of the hallway.

“Shit,” He mumbles and runs to you without hesitation with guiltiness overflowing through his body. “Shit... I’m sorry, I’m sorry..” As if a ritual flowed out of his lips, his hands were busy covering you with his duffle coat

His guilt only worsens when he feels you tremble under his touch.

“Hi.” Your raspy voice makes Wooyoung’s chest feel heavier, your eyes fluttering open with the sudden movement. “You’re finally here,” Your lips, despite being almost frozen, pull up to a small smile at the sight of Wooyoung barely inches away from you, a worried look on his face.

“How long have you been waiting?” Wooyoung doesn’t meet your eyes, busy covering your body with his coat.

“I don’t know...” Your eyes trail to your wristwatch, widening when you realize what time it was. “Six hours?!” You stand abruptly, growing suspicious of the time as you inhaled sharply.

“Six hours and you didn’t think of calling me?” Wooyoung’s voice raises, finally inserting the key to the knob with harsh movements.

“My phone was out,”

“And you also didn’t think of asking for a spare key in the lobby? The fuck are you on?” Stepping into the warmth of your shared apartment, the warmth you felt weeks before

“You know they don’t lend keys unless it’s an emergency for the whole building.” His pissed tone only ticked you off, trying your best not to burst into anger as you were tired. “Why are you the one who’s angry right now? Shouldn’t I be the one who’s riled up right now? Where the fuck have you been for six hours that you didn’t even inform me? So much for confiscating my keys saying from now on, you’re walking home with me.” But you just couldn’t help it. This was the first conversation with Wooyoung you’ve made after weeks, and it was nothing but an argument you couldn’t help putting more pressure on.

Wooyoung stops in his tracks, staring at you with cold eyes yet with hesitance in it. He ponders for a while, tightening his jaw as his grip on the keys tightens, index continuously, anxiously tapping against the cold metals.

“I was with Han,” Four words were enough to shut your mouth. Your eyes fall to the ground in an instant, nodding it off. Your anger melts away replaced with jealousy, but you weren’t going to show him that. Instead, you acted nonchalant about it and walked to your room. “Hey—,” Wooyoung tries to make another conversation, wanting to apologize with his softer voice but decides against it.

He just watches you quietly make your way to your room, his coat dangling off of you.

“Right,” You stop, facing him. Your eyes were no longer holding any emotions, just simply... staring at him.

He hated it.

“About next Saturday,” You start, and it breaks Wooyoung that he can’t hear the same enthusiasm that he’s familiar with in your voice. “Are you going?”

“Of course I am. If you’re going—,”

“I’m going with Seonghwa.” You cut him off, and maybe it was the way you immediately turned your back on him that broke him more. “Just wanted to let you know. Please lock the door when uou leave,” And your door closes.

Wooyoung stands there in the middle of the living room in confusion, his knees weak but he still manages to stand as far as his ego can go.

But rather than feeling replaced with Seonghwa and feeling mad about it, jealousy, envy, and confusion overtake it as he longingly stares at your door, wanting to knock but can’t get himself to do it.

Maybe that was the time Wooyoung thought he should’ve admitted to his feelings for you long before.

“Hwa, I’m so so sorry I got you into this,” You grab into his arm, pleading. “But I really really need you to go with me,”

“Who said I wouldn’t, anyway?” He chuckles, ruffling your hair. He lets you cling onto his arm as you squeal in happiness, walking the hallways of the university to the cafeteria to meet with Yeosang.

“—uh, right. About going with me,” Your happiness subsides as you put on a wary smile, turning to him. “I’ve never brought a man home except he who must not be named,” Craning your neck, Seonghwa momentarily furrows his brows together until he connects the dots.

“Wooyoung?”

“Yeah. He who must not be named,” You nod, pursing your lips. “And uh... they always think he who must not be named is already my boyfriend whenever we come home. Childhood sweethearts, basically.” You continued to explain, but Seonghwa isn’t getting closer to what your point was.

“Just tell me,” He whines, holding you still in place right before the doors of the cafeteria.

“Fine,” You sigh, “I’m asking you to be my boyfriend for that day,” You shyly tuck your chin to your chest, pouting.

Seonghwa’s heart skips a beat, though he knows what he was getting himself into. He promised himself to just love you from afar when he concluded about your feelings to Wooyoung and vice versa, until you confirmed it, yet he couldn’t help himself getting greedier when you said that.

“Fine with me if you don’t want to, Hwa. But I’m still going to need you to come with me,” You push through the glass doors and see Yeosang already eating, waving at him. “Heads up though, it’s going to be very uncomfortable.”

As if it was going to be less uncomfortable if he showed up as your boyfriend.

“Oh shit, sorry,” Bumping into someone unintentionally as you walked backward, Seonghwa’s arms protectively snake in your waist as another pair of hands caught your shoulders, you immediately regained your balance as you looked at the other man, your face falling emotionless.

“y/n, can we talk?” Wooyoung lets go of your shoulders as his eyes drop on Seonghwa’s arms, blinking it off as he waits for you to reply. He isn’t going to mention how his heart wilted at the sight of your face falling right in front of his eyes, so he just diligently waits.

You even look at Seonghwa for confirmation.

“What for?” You ask softly, nodding at Seonghwa to confirm that you’ll be fine if left alone. “Can’t keep the food waiting. Yeosang already finished his,” You take a glance at Yeosang who only winked, a chuckle leaving your lips.

You tried enlightening the atmosphere between the both of you, you really did. Wooyoung just had to bring more tension by not laughing it off which leaves you in an awkward position.

“You know, we’ve been friends since we were kids,” He blurts out, making you flinch.

“Yeah, and?” You suspiciously eyed him from the side, face contorting into confusion.

“Every day of our life we’d been together. Every second, every minute, every hour. Am I overreacting? Maybe, even... holidays.” He sighs, putting his hands together as he fiddles with it under your stare. “I.. we’ve always been going together..” He just needs to say it. Say anything that can stop you from going with Seonghwa, and just go with him like you always do. Like you traditionally do.

Yet when he tries to meet your eyes, looking over inside through the windows, a small smile on your lips as you conversed with who he assumed was Seonghwa for a second through your eyes, his pride steps on him all over again.

“And I’m sorry if I’m going with Han,” He mumbles, a sigh of what you assumed was relief coming out of his lips.

You turned to him with a confused expression, raising your eyebrow.

“Why are you apologizing?” You knew this. You even talked it out with Yeosang and Seonghwa before. You’ve been expecting this. But why, even though you’ve thought about this through and through, does it still hurt you like some fresh wound?

“Because I’m expecting an apology too,” Wooyoung shrugs the heaviness of his chest away, looking over at you with the coldest stare you’ve ever seen from him, “You’re going with Seonghwa. Don’t you feel sorry because you didn’t talk it out with me before asking him to go with you? Because I did,”

You scoff in disbelief, speechless at the sudden shift of his mood as you stared at him, trying to understand what game he was trying to play.

“Wooyoung.” You call, as if you spat venom, “You’ve said it already. We’ve been attached to the hip since we were born up ‘til now.” You can’t help scoffing yet one more time, biting the insides of your cheek to stop yourself from tearing up. “Don’t you think it’s time we make choices and plans on our own? Don’t you think... we should both grow out of it?”

Wooyoung quietly and internally hopes that he didn’t do anything he did today, said anything he said today. Because he knows you best. So when he sees your glimmering eyes starting to form tears, he regrets everything he did since the day he was born.

Because the last thing he wanted to do was to hurt you.

“y/n, I—,”

“Didn’t mean anything you said, didn’t mean what you said, I didn’t get what you said, I totally misunderstood what you said,” You mocked. “Wooyoung, I know you. You’d give every fucking excuse to get yourself out of an apology.” As if you were holding yourself from breathing, a deep sigh leaves your lips as you turn your back on him, wanting to leave him and his logic alone.

“What the fuck am I supposed to apologize for?” He says under gritted teeth, gripping on your wrist to stop you from escaping. It tightens and you could only writhe in pain, but the pain costs much more in your chest as you stare at Wooyoung’s eyes— dark, cold, and guarded.

He wasn’t the Wooyoung you grew up with.

You could only scoff for the nth time. Processing his words in disbelief, you stare at him in hopelessness.

“Sure... Alright,” You nod half-heartedly, “...whatever makes you happy,” Trying to pull a smile, a tear escapes your eyes as you try to wriggle out of his wrist.

“Please let go of her,” Grabbing Wooyoung’s wrist, Seonghwa comes in between your staring contest with Wooyoung as he softly tries to get rid of Wooyoung’s grip. “We’re on campus grounds,”

“Fuck off, Seonghwa,” He mumbles, which only makes Seonghwa stand his guard further. Yeosang appears behind him to calm him down, but it did nothing. “I said fuck off,” Wooyoung desperately shook off Yeosang’s arms off of him, trying his best to fight Seonghwa with his guts.

But under Seonghwa’s soft glare, he can’t do anything. Not when you’re behind Seonghwa, letting yourself be guarded that wasn’t him.

And so he just lets himself get pulled away, away from you.

Maybe he really should’ve just let go.

And you.

“Fake boyfriend, huh,” Seonghwa nudges you as you stare at your lovely home’s doors in annoyance.

“I said boyfriend for a day. Not a fake boyfriend, that shit’s cliche,” You hiss at him, threatening to raise your fist as he exaggeratedly flinches.

“Same thing, same thing,” He mumbles, taking a hold of your hand in one swift move. “Girlfriend,” He scrunches his nose, he urges you to step forward to your porch, caressing the back of your palm when he sees you bite your lip in nervousness.

“Where the hell is Wooyoung and y/n? We’re going to be late at this point!” Wooyoung’s mother comes opening up the door, eyes set on the living room of the house. You and Seonghwa flinch at the sudden movement, gasping. “You’re here, oh my god finally!” She comes and gives you a hug and a kiss on the cheeks, and is almost going to do the same with the man beside you only except he’s.. Taller. “You’re not Wooyoung,” She mumbles, eyeing Seonghwa.

“Oh, auntie. Hello, hi. Uh,” You scratched your head, seeing all of the others, including your family and Wooyoung’s family, head to the front door in curiosity.

“Good day, I’m Seonghwa, y/n’s.. good friend,” Seonghwa smiles, removing the hand that has been holding yours to shake hands with Wooyoung’s mother. You immediately glared at him, but he only chuckled it out.

Feigning ignorance to everybody’s suspicious eyes, they invited the both of you in as they tended to Seonghwa, who was their first time meeting— as a good friend.

“Honey, how about Wooyoung?” Your mom welcomes you with a hug, raising her brows teasingly as you leave Seonghwa momentarily in the living room.

“How would I know? We’re both grown adults living our lives,” You shrugged, heading to the bathroom.

“Did you two fight?” Crossing her arms over her chest, your dad leaned on the wall beside him as he waited for you to answer. “Like both grown adults, go and get over it. We aren’t spending two days of holiday in Jeju with some tension in the air.”

“Jeju?! What the hell?” You turned to them as quickly as possible, craning your neck. “Can we not just go?”

“It was supposed to be a surprise! Not anymore when you walked in without Wooyoung! And no, you cannot not go,” She whisper-shouted, hissing at you. “Now call him and ask where the hell he is because we have a flight to catch on, then talk to your guy right there if he’s going to come along,”

Groaning, you knew you couldn’t fight and win the argument with your mother so you just reached for your phone in your pocket, your fingers hesitating to call the only one on the speed dial.

“I guess there’s no need for that,” Your dad sighs, looking over at the front door. “He’s here… Well, unlike y/n, unaccompanied.” As if your dad knew and caught up on what the two childhood sweethearts were up to, a suspicious smile arose from his lips as he waited for you to react.

“Good, now let me get to Seonghwa. He’s a guest,” Your eyes shifted from everything but your parents’ eyes, avoiding every instance to look at the front door as you walked to the living room.

“You good?” Seonghwa asks, letting you plop on the sofa beside him.

“Not when I asked you to be my boyfriend and suddenly introduce yourself as a good friend, no,” You glared at him, catching a glimpse of Wooyoung entering the dining room to greet your parents.

“Come on, they’ll get an idea along the day. What’s more important is, they wouldn’t think you’re cheating if ever this holiday ends with you and Wooyoung,” He chuckles, sipping on the juice Wooyoung’s mother gave him.

“Right. We’re going to Jeju and staying ‘til tomorrow,” You nonchalantly say, tossing a biscuit in your mouth and completely ignoring what he just said, “Can you?”

Seonghwa chokes on the juice, and you help him get over it by patting his back.

“Jeju? I thought this thing was a home thing?” He rubs his chest, face contorting in confusion.

“It was a surprise so I didn’t know, “ You look at him apologetically, “If you can’t it’s alright, guess I have to just stick up alone,”

“I can but.. Tickets? Clothes? Money?” He asks, looking at himself. Definitely not Jeju-ready.

“Oh, don’t worry. We got accommodation there,” You smile brightly, “And clothes.. Borrow from Wooyoung I guess,” You wink, dancing on your seat as you munch on the biscuits excitedly.

Wooyoung annoyingly clicks his tongue, his eyes trailing away from you then back to his mother.

“Did you two fight?” His mother’s hands fondly caresses his arms, the first time seeing Wooyoung’s defeated and irritated expression after puberty.

“No,” Wooyoung answers timidly. Wooyoung hisses when he feels a slap in his arm, tugging him to the farthest corner of the kitchen.

“What is wrong with you?!” Like how mothers do, she whisper-yelled at Wooyoung as she pinched a little of his arm. “Why did y/n suddenly get someone?!” She continues to push on Wooyoung, glancing back at the dining room where you were, now apparently teaching Seonghwa how to play monopoly.

“I don’t know, ask them?!” Wooyoung answers, dodging his mother’s pincers.

“I brought you to this world, Jung Wooyoung. If you lie to me one more time I will throw you to Jupiter. y/n suddenly bring a friend on a holiday is so not y/n…” His mother glares at him which immediately makes him shrink in place.

“Seonghwa’s.. Only a friend?” A small smile finally makes its way to his face, coughing it off cooly when his mother only grimaces in confusion. “I mean— nothing’s up. Maybe y/n just wants to bring a friend, I guess,” He giggles, finally feeling himself free from all the anger and jealousy he’s been holding.

His mom does nothing but stares at him suspiciously until everyone’s called to the living room, the smile on Wooyoung’s face can’t be erased. He almost sits next to you, but his mother pinches his arm to drag him beside her to avoid awkward tension .

“So..” Your dad awkwardly claps, looking at everyone. “Surprise!” His cheerful greeting was responded with awkward silence, Seonghwa only giving a small clap as he looked around. “It’s nice meeting you, Seonghwa,” And when no one mutters another word, he finally sighs and just states out what they had planned beforehand to everyone. “Car one— Wooyoung’s mom and dad with all of our things. Car two, everyone with me and my wife,”

“Hwa and I— we’ll go with car one. You know. Mr. and Mrs. Jung might get bored with no one in their car,”

Wooyoung frowns at the nickname, glaring at his mom to say something.

“Hun, it’s okay. We’ve planned everything and we’re okay with that! Plus, there are really really lots of things so I bet one couldn’t fit with us,” Wooyoung’s mom glances at Wooyoung who looked satisfied, rubbing his arm. You only nod in surrender, silently praying that avoiding Wooyoung will be a success until the end of the weekend.

“Here,” Throwing Wooyoung his bag that his mom handed you nonchalantly, “Let Hwa borrow some of your clothes, it’s only two days anyway,” Then you leave.

Wooyoung’s brows furrow, looking for Seonghwa as his eyes tailed you.

“He just doesn’t know how to read a room, huh,” He hisses under his breath, and if looks could kill, Seonghwa would’ve disintegrated by now.

“And.. we’re ready!”

“If y/n’s friend chokes on his food, that’s going to be your fault,” Wooyoung’s mom sneaks from behind, scaring him.

“Mom! Stop doing that!” Wooyoung grips on his plate, eyes trailing back to the table full of food to get some for himself as he glances once more at the dining table, you and Seonghwa talking about something that you laughed your ass off.

“Jealous much?” His mom giggles, taking a scoop of rice to place it on her son’s plate. “My childhood sweethearts don’t know they’re sweethearts after all,”

“What are you saying..” Wooyoung mumbles, leaving his mom giggling by herself as he sits between his dad and your dad, as his usual place was currently taken.

It was bad enough that you sat beside Seonghwa the whole plane ride to Jeju, and also in the car to the accommodation. He felt like bursting yet can’t find the courage to do so, with so many people around.

“I’m going to take Hwa to the beach after eating. Would that be okay?” You ask mid-lunch, eyes hovering over everyone except Wooyoung’s.

“Woo, would that be okay?” His mom glances at him, taking a hint.

“Of course,” With no choice left, he avoids eye contact with everyone else after he plays martyr, “..of course.” He so badly wants to look at you, but the shame stops him from doing so.

“Can’t you just get it over with and tell Wooyoung how you feel?” Seonghwa sighs, taking in the fresh scent of the sea in front of him.

It has only been a minute of silence after you’ve taken him out, but for Seonghwa, it was enough for him to think that you’ve gathered your thoughts.

“Hwa.. why didn’t you tell me you liked me?” You ask back, not sparing him a glance. You see him jump on his place, looking at you with panic in his eyes in your peripheral vision.

“What— who told you that?” Seonghwa swallows the lump on his throat, feeling sweat form in his forehead.

“Yeosang did,”

“That motherfucker,”

You chuckle, looking at him. He looks down in shame, playing with the sand. “Don’t blame Yeosang. He was only worried for you. When he found out that you agreed to this trip, he knew it’ll either end up the same, or you get hurt in the end, so he kinda freaked out and blurted it out,” You inhale and heave it out, looking bat at the sea. “So why?”

“Because I already knew from the start that you liked somebody else. Can’t jeopardize anything between us or you and Wooyoung just for my feelings,” Seonghwa thinks there’s nothing more to lose anyway, so he bursts it all out. It was either no one was going to speak, or everything was going to be spoken.

“Exactly.”

“But Wooyoung likes you,”

“..Exactly,” You repeat, facing him. “It’s not just the pre-relationship we’re talking about here. We’re also talking about the future,” You sigh, scrunching your nose at Seonghwa. “I've been thinking about it a lot, Hwa. If we become.. more, let’s say, it can’t be just butterflies and rainbows, Hwa. There’s a lot more you think that’s at stake if we risk our relationship. I may lose him— not only as a boyfriend but also as a best friend. Because even after all these years growing up with him.. I can’t imagine all my memories with him going to a dump.” You explain, finally feeling a lot lighter after telling everything little by little to someone. “Not only that, our parents also— what if they become awkward after us? Can’t risk that when they’re already that old,”

A laugh emits from the both of you, feeling the tension disperse along with the wind.

“But how did you know Wooyoung liked you?” Seonghwa curiously cranes his neck, removing the stray hair on your forehead.

“Kinda figured it out along with Yeosang’s help,” You chuckle, “You know, that man knows a lot more than we think he knows,”

It was light and fun, your time alone with Seonghwa. Though you felt bad that this holiday weekend was supposed to be spent with your families, you really can’t help it when you’ve been avoiding Wooyoung.

“When are you planning to talk to Wooyoung about this?” You glare at Seonghwa, thinking that the conversation is already over. “Last one, I swear,”

“I don’t know, but not soon,”

“It’s okay, hun. We left Wooyoung home, we’re going on a double date!” Your mom beams through the phone, the faint music playing in the background. “Just remember! You’re in room three! Leave Seonghwa in room four!”

You eye Seonghwa weirdly, asking if he had heard what your mom said before hanging up on you.

“As if I’ll do anything to you,” He shrugs, entering the house first. You huff in disbelief, following him. “I’m kinda tired so.. I’ll just see you tomorrow?” He pops his head out of the door, smiling at you.

“Yes master,” You bow playfully, squinting your eyes at Seonghwa as you hear him lock the door.

A sigh leaves your lips as you close your eyes, stretching your neck as you open your room’s door. Plopping on the bed, you groan in relief as you feel your back straighten against the soft bed.

“Enjoyed?”

“Fuck!” You scream, standing up at the speed of light as you glare at Wooyoung, who is chilling on the bed with his phone in hand. “Why are you here? Isn’t this room three?” He nods nonchalantly, shutting his phone off to look at you emotionlessly. “There’s got to be a misunderstanding, then,”

You start to fish for your phone in your pockets, stopping for a second.

This was your chance to talk to him.

No, nope. You weren’t ready.

You shake your head, getting ready to contact your mother to find a solution to the simple problem.

“You act as if we haven’t been sleeping on each other’s bed for years now,” You hear Wooyoung mumble, taking your phone away from you.

Trying to reach for your phone, your effort goes to waste when he buries it in his back pocket. “Fine. I’m going to Seonghwa’s, then,”

“You trust a man you just met a few months ago more than your best friend you’ve been growing up with?” You could sense the pain in his voice, silently looking at you in hopes of finally having time alone with you. “Don’t you think we’ve been dragging this too much already, y/n?”

Silence. Nothing but looking at each other’s eyes, hesitance and desperation seen.

“There’s nothing to talk about, Woo.” You mumble, turning around to leave the heavy tension but Wooyoung wasn’t having it.

It was either you will walk out as his or walk out of his life— literally.

Because he cannot bear anymore the immense yearning he has been feeling for you, trying to bury it deep inside him doing no more effort of hiding his feelings for you.

He wants you and he’s had enough of hiding it. But knowing you all his life, he knew you already knew. And he also knew what was keeping you from addressing it.

“y/n,” He walks until he’s in front of you, crouching to meet your eye level. “Stop dwelling on what’s to happen— I beg,” It wasn’t even something big. It was just something that became big because it was held on for too long, which made everything emotional.

“Wooyoung, there’s too much to risk, I don’t want that,” You mumble, growing tired under his soft hold on your shoulders. “Us. Our parents. Everything. Because what if, in the end, it’s never really us? There’s too much to lose, Wooyoung.”

“But what if it is us?” Wooyoung tries his best in persuading you, “Because we’ll never know if we never try, y/n. We'll be stuck with so many what-ifs— when we can try in the first place,” His soft smile beams at you, trying his best to not let the tears get in the way of seeing your beautiful eyes that shined for him. “And I assure you— whatever happens, I will be here,”

“You don’t know that, Wooyoung.”

“And you’re not me to say that, y/n.”

It takes a few minutes of staring at each other's eyes to think, realize and decide whether taking a step was good or not.

Risky, but you’ll finally be letting your unspoken feelings be spoken. Tons of what-ifs, but just like what Wooyoung said, how would you know if you never try?

“You know, for someone who I’ve spent my whole life with, it doesn’t make sense that I still want to live the rest of it with you,” You mumble, finally letting out a tear or two.

Wooyoung finally sighs in relief, letting his overdue tears spill as he takes you in his warmth. Shifting gently under his touch, you stared at him and his eyes and cried again in happiness that you were able to finally make a decision after years of silently pining on the man before you.

“I love you,” You whispered gently and hugged his warmth more closely in your warmth, closing your eyes as you imagined nothing but a bright future with Wooyoung.

What you weren’t able to see though, was the bright smile that appeared on his face.

“I promise to love you even more than I do, each and every day," And you were finally, definitely home.

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[jichanqz]

HAVE WE MET BEFORE | K.M

SUMMARY *･゜ﾟ↝ you bump into a stranger and for some reason, you feel drawn towards him

PAIRING *･゜ﾟ↝ tbz kevin x f!reader

GENRE *･゜ﾟ↝ angst, soulmate au, slight fluff

WARNINGS *･゜ﾟ↝ profanities

WORD COUNT *･゜ﾟ↝ 8K+

INSPIRED BY :

The ground is sprinkled with snow as you make your way into the book café. The warmness of the café engulfs you whole, chasing away the nagging cold that has been torturing you to the bone.

It really had been a while.

You mutter as the interior of the café greets your eyes, allowing your memories of the past to come gushing into your mind.

The last time you were here was right before you moved out of your old apartment to another city. You really didn’t have a solid reason for moving out, you just felt like you need a change. You felt the urge of leaving something behind and move onwards with life in new surroundings.

But here you are again, coming back in the search of that particular something you thought you’d be able to find when you moved out. Searching for the patches to mend the gaps of your hollow life.

The café remains the same as ever, a minimalistic interior painted in monochromatic tones. The only difference is the additional Christmas decoration adorning the walls and ceiling.

But you can't help but feel empty, to feel that something is missing.

You head to a spot at one corner of the cafe, one that used to be your favourite spot. The sole of your boots clacks slow-paced against the tiles. Your fingers wrap around a cup of coffee, not able to function without the caffeine streaming in your bloodstream.

You like your coffee black, but today you just feel the need for difference and go with a flat white instead.

Your eyes dart out of the picture window, your sight falls on the crystal-like powder vomited by the sky, cladding the ground whole.

You hate this.

You hate that the season that used to be your favourite has now turned into your most loathed.

You hate that the white flurries are now nothing but merely frozen precipitation to you, nothing more than a wintry mix.

You hate that the quietness of the café is not able to comfort you like it used to.

You hate that the soft chattering of the people occupying the café is no longer your favourite sound to listen to.

You hate that the smell of the freshly brewed coffee is not able to set your heart with excitement while it used to be the thing that you always looked forward to after long, tiring days.

You hate it.

How did it all go wrong?

You shut your eyes, fingers fumbling with the ceramic handle of the cup that has long emptied as if doing so could stop you from pondering over your miserable life.

Your fingers wrap around the ceramic cup as if holding onto dear life, emptying your thoughts when a sweet voice dangles in the quietness of the café, blending with the indistinct chattering of the other customer, along with the sound of footsteps that is getting louder as it approaches to where you are sitting. The voice is quiet and soft, yet doesn’t fail to reach your eardrum.

The owner of the voice settles in a seat somewhere near you, which you assume at the opposite corner of the long table you are occupying.

You breathe out a long sigh as you open your eyes, your front still facing the window, your back facing the newcomer.

It is when you decide to get out of your seat to get your free refill that you are stopped dead in your actions, hands clenching involuntarily around the cup as you catch sight of the stranger sitting opposite of you.

You can feel your heart swell as it starts to pick up the pace, ramming against your ribcage with a feeling that you are incapable of describing.

But you know all too well that it is nothing shy of pain.

A messy mixture of pain, dread, and sadness, but laced with a dash of longing.

What is wrong with me?

This is the first time you’ve met the stranger, as far as your memories can stretch. Both you and the stranger don’t know each other. So why are you feeling this way?

Your eyes start to feel hot, warm tears begin to form. Before it could find its way off the brim of your eyes, you promptly take your cup with you to the refilling section, not forgetting to grab a hard-covered novel as you head back to your seat.

The raven-haired stranger settles there comfortably, earphones stuffing both ears with a book in his hand.

Pull yourself together, for goodness sake.

He rushes into the place where he had breathed in more oxygen than he does at his own home. Or house? Does it even deserve to be called home?

He shakes off the snow decorating his hair and his long coat before pushing his way inside through the door. As much as he hates to admit, he knows all too well that he had grown out of love of this café long ago. He hates it.

And as much as he hates the place, he keeps coming back. How can he run away? How can he escape when that very place has become a part of him? How can he run from the fraction of his own self?

The doorbell chimes, notifying his presence. He beelines straight to the counter, getting himself hot matcha, trying his absolute best to reduce his caffeine intake.

He clutches his hand at the side of his coat when his pounding headache suddenly strikes him. He had been having occasional headaches for months now, for an unknown reason. He’s so sure that his caffeine addiction is not the only one to blame for the pain that has been torturing him. He knows it goes beyond that.

He mouths lyrics of a random song that pops in his brain, his foot tapping on the tiles, ignoring the pounding headache like he always did. Ignoring, something that he does best.

Black cup in hand, he heads to his usual spot while humming to the song still. His usual spot at the corner of the café, such a suitable spot for him to shun himself from the others.

He spots a stranger his age sitting at the long table where he always sits, head facing outside. He would usually get uncomfortable and would half-heartedly give up the spot and sit at any other vacant table. But now that he’s seeing the sight, he somehow feels like that usual, boring spot seems completed.

At that very moment, the pain strikes him as scenes flash in his mind for a split second before disappearing along with the ache.

What the hell?

The scene was too faint to even be distinguishable.

This is one of the reasons why he avoids being in his house. The pounding headache. For some weird reasons which remain unknown to him, the headache is the most intense when he’s in his apartment. And that’s why he keeps running away.

But now that it even happens at every other place, where should he run away?

Brushing off the headache, he settles at the end of the table. A constricted sigh leaves his mouth as his hand runs through his ebony hair, hoping the pain would subside.

He rummages his backpack, withdrawing a hard-covered book in the shade of pale yellow.

He plugs in his earphones when the stranger suddenly gets out of her seat. As much he would appreciate that he’s now alone, he can feel his heart drop in his chest at the sight of the stranger leaving.

But he just shrugs it off. After all, he enjoys his own company the most. Or at the very least, he forced himself to believe that that’s the case.

When he thinks that the stranger had left, she comes back with her hands wrapped around a hard-covered book and a cup of coffee. That’s when he catches sight of her face and right there and then the headache thwacks him for the umpteenth time. He can feel his heartbeat peaking.

Random scenes flash at the back of his head again.

The scenes are faint, just like before, but this time he’s able to descry a place very familiar, a place that is very close to him.

The café.

He shakes his head several times, diverting all attention to his book at hand, ignoring the weird occurrence that keeps torturing him.

As hard as he try to discern the words written on the page, it would still appear like a set of blurry lines. He keeps on rereading the same page.

He grabs for his cup of matcha, drawing it to his mouth to take a sip when the pounding headache rams his skull, this time even more intense and agonisingly painful than before.

He doesn’t even try to hold back his groan of agony as he abruptly shoves the cup onto the table, spilling the content all over the varnished wood.

And that action of his has successfully withdrawn the stranger from her tiny world and diverted all her attention to his writhing self as he feels her slowly approaching.

“Are you okay?” Kevin’s head jolts up at hearing your voice, his eyes meeting yours. Worry etches your façade, concern prominent on your features. And once again, random scene dances in front of his eyes.

But this time it was clear.

He can see it clearly. You.

He sees you, your eyes boring into his, forming crescents as your lips shape a smile, your expression is one that mirrors happiness, not one of concern like right now.

And as fast as it had appeared, it is once again gone, sending his hand flying to his head once more, trying to abate the racking pain that follows.

Are you okay?

Is he ever okay?

You quickly lift his book, preventing the spilled matcha from kissing its cover.

“I’m so sorry— I, oh god. Thank you.” Kevin stutters as you place his now empty cup beside his book. You reach your bag, rummaging through it in search of something.

You quickly hand him the small bottle of painkillers that you always carry around with you.

Kevin’s hand wraps around the bottle, his headache somehow may have subsided since he seems to no longer groan in agony as he was before, but his head is still hung low.

“Oh yes! I’m so sorry, hold on.” You rummage through your bag once again as he’s about to mutter something, withdrawing a bottle of mineral water before handing it to him.

“You really don’t need to—.” Kevin is about to refuse but reluctantly grab it from your hand as he looks at your firm expression.

“Thank you. Thank you so much.” Kevin doesn’t usually take medication when his headache strikes. He doesn’t like relying on drugs, not that it does anything in curing his unknown pain anyways. But seeing that this stranger who he barely knows is so keen to help, he doesn’t have the heart to refuse.

You watch as he gulps the painkiller in one go, before blankly eyeing the wooden surface of the table, the pattern seeming weirdly intriguing at times like this.

Silence fills the void between both of you. After good seconds filled with nothing but the sound of people chattering at the back, you raise your head, wanting to break out of the agonising quietness.

“You—“

“What—“

The sentence that you have formed in your mind earlier dissipates into thin air as his own comes to a halt. Silence once again serenades you and him before you both crack into laughter.

“You first.” He said, curt yet friendly.

“Well, umm- what’s your name?” you fight down the stutter that almost left your mouth, trying your utmost best to pacify your quickening heartbeat.

“It’s Kevin. Moon Kevin.”

Kevin.

His name rings a bell in your head, unlocking an invisible lock that had confined a part of your brain thus letting wild voices roam free, serenading your consciousness.

‘Gosh, Moon Kevin!’

You hear a voice, the tone of the voice is one of sheer happiness.

‘What are you doing Kevin?’

Trails of chuckles follow the voice this time.

‘My moonchild.’

And again. It is laced with fondness this time.

“What about you? What’s your name?” His feather-like voice brings you back to reality as fast as you were gone. Thankfully, you catch yourself zoning out before the random flashbacks could get to the best of you.

Flashbacks? Was it a flashback? How could it be a flashback when you can’t even recollect the pieces of memories at the back of your mind? When you can’t even remember creating the memories in the first place?

You mutter your name before reaching out to shake his warm hand that is extended your way, anticipating a response.

The moment when your hand touches his, when your fingers brush over his, you swear you can feel the jolt of electricity shooting through your body. And judging by his expression, you think, you know that he feels it too.

Who is he?

Kevin Moon, a stranger you just met. But feels a lot closer. Your heart clenches in your chest, recalling the traces of this stranger that your brain couldn’t come up with.

You know there’s definitely something, you can feel it. You are able to reach it but couldn’t quite grasp it.

“Are you new here? Haven’t seen you around here before.” He shoots again while maintaining eye contact, his expression soft, successfully blanketing you with a warm feeling, making you feel welcomed. He fumbles with something in between his palms before realising that he has not yet returned the painkiller that you gave earlier. “Oh! I’m sorry, here you go. Again, thank you so much. Really appreciate that.”

“It’s nothing. Glad that I could be some sort of help.” A smile forms on your lips. You exhale the breath you didn’t notice you were holding before continuing.

“Well, yeah um— I’m not from around here. But I casually came here before I moved away back then.”

“Ah, I see. Why did you move? Well, you don’t need to answer it if you’re not comfortable though. I could be snooping my nose in something that I shouldn’t have to sometimes I—..” he starts blabbering, worry etched on his sharp feature, his voice shaky, feeling like he’s encroaching on way too much.

“No Kevin, it’s fine.” You quickly cut him, not wanting him to feel ill at ease. “I just feel the need for change, that is all I guess.” You lightly chuckle at your newly fabricated answer. You yourself don’t know the answer to that.

“That’s great. I’ve been wanting to move away for quite some time too, but..” he heaves a heavy sigh, looking away. You get no chance to know the continuation of his sentence when his attention is diverted to his beeping phone.

He sighs for the umpteenth time before redirecting his gaze back to you. “I’m sorry but I need to go. Well um— is there any way that I could return your favour? Perhaps—..”

“No, there’s no need. Really. It’s nothing. I’m more than glad to be able to help.”

After a few failed persuasions, Kevin finally gives in before hurriedly shoving his things into his backpack. He raises to his feet, nodding a little before finally parting ways with you.

“Hope to see you again soon.” He adds, slow but is able to reach your ear before slowly beelining towards the exit.

“Me too.” You reply after his silhouette can no longer be seen, the utterance is nothing more than for only yourself to hear. You fumble with your fingers, somehow regretting that your little unforeseen rendezvous has come to an end.

That was it.

You mutter as you push down a lump forming in your throat.

He’s nothing more than a stranger merely crossing paths. And it’s going to stay that way.

Stop giving it too much thought.

When you are grabbing your belongings and about to leave, rushed footsteps echo against the tiles of the café towards you, and there he is once again, with a smile plastered on his face and a paper cup of steaming hot coffee in his hand, extended your way.

“Here you go. Just, consider it as a small gift.”

You stare at him, dumbfounded. Words refuse to leave your mouth. Seeing your bewildered expression, he takes your hand in his. His warm palm envelops your cold one, before sheltering the cup of coffee safely in your grip.

“I am really in quite of a hurry, so um— I’ll get going.” He backpedals, his hand gestures towards the exit.

“It was really nice meeting you.”

Nice meeting you.

I wonder whether your impression will still be the same once you get to know me, Kevin.

With shaky breaths, you too make your way out of the café, parting ways.

You lifted your leg, crossing one under the other on the café’s stool. Your hand reached up to brush your hair off your face, before resting against your temple, crease prominent on your forehead. A sharp exhale left your mouth.

“That’s it, I’m fucked up.”

“Language, young lady.”

Once again, you were here, sprinting, exerting your all efforts for the upcoming tests with books cluttered all over the table, but nothing near the clutters in your head.

“This is physically and emotionally exhausting please I don’t wanna do this anymore!” You groaned, your face finding its place in the palms of your hands. At this point, you were literally one trigger away from ripping your head off your body.

“Now now.. Breathe in.. Breathe out..” You followed his words, barely calming yourself down.

“You can do it. You did it successfully last time, and you are going to ace it this time too. Don’t think too much about it, please. Hm?” He spoke, his tone calm, contradicting your current roily state.

You created space between your palm and your face, your eyes meeting his tranquil ones. His aura surely was very contagious. Looking at his calm façade alone had magically soothed your raging anxiety and worry about the upcoming exams.

His hand snaked across the table, interlocking his fingers with yours, while his other hand reached for the book in front of you, flipping through the pages. Your hand gently grasped his bigger one, absorbing all the positivity and serenity he hold, before slowly rocking your intertwined hands side to side.

It fits, you thought. Your hand fits into his perfectly, as if his were made only for you, and yours were uniquely created for him. It fits faultlessly like two puzzle pieces being connected. Like a key fitting into its respective lock.

You averted your gaze from your connected hands, locking gaze with his loving ones. It was silent, a pleasant one. You both don’t even need to do much talking, each other’s presence is more than enough to fill in the vacuity.

He raised your hand before planting a soft peck on your knuckle. “Go on, you can do it. Just do it like how you normally did.” He placed your book in its previous place in front of you.

You wiggled his hand before reluctantly letting go, continuing your revision session.

You flipped through the pages before noticing the colourful label tag being stuck on different pages of your revision books.

“I don’t remember sticking this?” you looked at him, brows slightly raised. “You did this?”

“What?” he blurted, playing dumb.

“No, I don’t get it. These are not even the topics that I need to revise.” You flipped through all the pages with the tag before once again locking gaze with him.

A smile cracked on his face before he quickly shrugged. “Oh, really?” breathy chuckles followed his words.

“Hold on, I think I get it.” You turn towards the pages once again, noticing that the tags were purposely being stuck at different parts of the pages, some nearing the edge, and some slightly towards the middle.

A surge of warmness cladded you whole as you successfully connected the words, forming a sentence.

“Are you.. my sinoatrial node? Because.. you make my heart beat.” You muttered slowly, enough for only him to hear you. Your eyes didn’t fail to notice the small smiley and a small heart being scribbled at the last label tag.

You looked at him, your eyes soft, one that was full of love. Love for the guy sitting in front of you. His own expression mirroring yours.

“Aww, are you really mine, Kevin?” you chuckled, your heart fluttering, giddy in love.

“I’m all yours, love. I love you.” He replied before leaning towards you, his lips meeting yours.

You jolt awake as your dream comes to a halt. Beads of sweat glide down your face as you sit upright on your bunk bed in your room at your parents' house.

You decided to stay the night since you have not even a single ounce of energy left to travel for a good hour and a half back to your rented apartment.

You rake your hands through your hair, slightly tugging at it, desperate to chase away the lingering image of your recent dream.

For fuck’s sake. Get. It. Together.

Your heart rams against your ribcage, hands slightly shaking, breathing heavy.

As hard as you try not to, your head refuses to think of anything but that one stranger you had met earlier. The one and only Moon Kevin. Invading your dream, haunting your mind every single second, messing up your thought for every single breath you take, and this hinting towards anything but good.

And here you are once again, head occupied by merely the thoughts of him as you get out of your bed, making your way to a room in your house, particularly reserved to store books. You hastily push yourself into the room, searching for that one book that had made its appearance in your dream.

Pacing back and forth in the small room, eyes quickly skimming over the spines of books. You look at every single row of each shelf, but only to be met with frustration. You search for it once again, this time more carefully before your eyes land on the thick book, shoved a bit to the back of the shelf.

You hurriedly reach for it. You run your hand over the cover of the book. The colour has somewhat faded, shelf worn damage can be seen on every edge, considering the time it has spent residing on the shelf.

You riffle through the pages before your motion gradually slows down as your eyes start to well with each flip through the book. Every flip you take through the book opens an invisible door to your past memories that the book stores.

The dam of your eyes couldn’t bear the volume of your tears any longer, letting it slide down your cheeks onto one of the pages. You can feel your heart swelling in your chest, too overwhelming for you to handle. Everything is too much to take, despite that it does not yet feel enough. Everything feels so wrong, so incomplete.

A cynical laugh leaves your lips when you can't find the things that you are searching for; the label tags. That is when your feet start failing underneath you, your back slides against the bookshelf before your knees make friends with the cold floor of the room. You then shut the book abruptly, specks of dust dispersing in the air around you.

What were you thinking?

It was all just a dream.

How can a dream turn into a reality?

And why are you so disappointed?

Why are you so frustrated that it was merely a dumb hallucination rather than an actuality?

You bring your lower limbs closer to your chest, your trembling arms snake around your broken figure, preventing yourself from falling apart. You are way too beset with the extremity of it all and have absolutely no power in preventing your sobs from slipping through your lips.

Your fingers fumble with the stone locket dangling from the chain worn around your left wrist as your hand brush against the other, desperately bracing yourself. The black stone glints in the darkness, reflecting the moonlight that washes the room whole through the uncovered window, so subtle for you to notice.

The next day, you find yourself dragging your feet back to the café. You are shameless to admit that you are here in hopes that you are going to meet him once again, even if it is for the very last time.

Your eyes puffy, from the number of tears oozing out of it the previous night. Your hands quiver, you yourself are oblivious whether it is due to the cold or anything else.

Roars of the engine of vehicles cut through the busy road, filling the distance between your standing spot and the location of the café. Your eyes make a quick scan through the glass window, and your eyes spot what, or who they are looking for. There he is, sitting at his favourite spot, or should you say, you both’s favourite spot.

He looks somewhat, bothered? He seems a bit on edge, definitely got a lot on his mind. And that’s when his eyes catch sight of you standing across the street, and you can feel your heart fluttering. Is this what they call butterflies?

As you are about to shoot him a smile, he turns away before standing and hastily grabbing his belongings. As fast as he sent the wave of butterflies circling and serenading your heart, you can feel the butterflies’ wings tearing one by one at his cold gesture.

Is he ignoring you?

You try to push away the thought as you head towards the black and yellow crossing, making an attempt to cross the busy road.

The door of the café shoots open as you reach the pavement, with a not-so-bright-looking Kevin holding the handle. Assuming that your presence earlier went unnoticed by him, you attempt to raise your hand, waving in his direction. He turns his head ever so slightly in your way, before turning to the opposite direction and walking away, multiplying the distance between you both, halting your action before you could even begin.

You could swear that he definitely noticed you.

If his previous action had mercilessly tore the wings of the butterflies, now you can feel the butterflies dissipating into thin air, before the wild gush of your emotion blows it all away. Gone.

Your hand falls limply beside you, clenching around the hem of your sweater. You watch his hurried step before it disappears around the corner of the building.

Your eyes start to sting, a pail of tears finding home in your chest, which you desperately prevent from spilling. The world doesn’t need to see your tears, not today, not for a reason that is even unknown to you.

Why would you even feel sad? Because a stranger takes no notice of you? Because a stranger that you barely know turns a cold shoulder on you?

Why would you waste your tears that way? His action is to be expected, how could a stranger he just met yesterday bring any significance to his life?

Accumulating the remainder of strength you could muster, you make your way into the café. You are already here, and you didn’t plan to leave empty-handed. Be it with or without Kevin, why would that matter to you?

You were initially alone yesterday anyway, before he suddenly appear, taking a seat at the opposite corner of your table, so how can this be any different?

Because he did appear. That’s what makes it different.

The bell above the door dangles, notifying your presence. You get yourself your usual black coffee, with extra pumps of syrup this time, before making your way to the secluded corner of the café.

Your step halts as you take in the empty table in front of you. You picture him sitting at his usual spot, hands flipping through books, ears stuffed with the black wired earphones. And then the scene from your dream washes your brain before you quickly shut it off.

Your back meets with the hard surface of the stool where you were sitting yesterday, your eyes blankly staring at the pitch-black coffee in your hand as you place your bag beside your stool on the floor.

Your eyes scan the interior of the café once again, registering it into your brain, knowing that the vibe and energy will no longer be the same once the season changes.

Your hand rummages through your bag, reaching for your phone, wanting to capture the image of the café before you leave.

Once your cup is emptied, you raise to your feet, about to leave as you find no reason to stay. Your hand firmly grips the sling of the bag hanging on your shoulder.

Your step pauses as the sole of your boot comes into contact with a hard object on the floor.

Realising that it is your chain, you quickly pick it up. You sigh out of relief, knowing full well that you would get into so much trouble if you lose it. You gently wipe some dust off the sooty stone before placing it in the pocket of your sweater, zipping it safe. It must have slipped out of your bag when you place it on the floor earlier.

After making sure that you have carried all of your items with you, you make your way out of the café to the train station, leaving nothing behind.

Or maybe a part of your heart refuses to follow you, choosing to remain in the town which you had once called home.

You rush into the train right before the automated door shut close behind you, your phone in your right hand and a cup of coffee, again, which you purchased seconds before hopping into the train.

Settling into one of the vacant seats, you give space for your heartbeat to calm down a little from that little marathon before start sipping your freshly brewed coffee.

Your shoulders slouch as your back rests against the seating, your eyes taking in the view of the jungle of bricks out of the window as your thoughts run free, trying to regain your composure as well as rearranging all those wild thoughts in their respective places.

You firmly grip your now half-empty cup as your other hand fumbles with the receipt of your coffee purchase, half-heartedly attempting to make origami out of it, which finally turns into a weird-looking scrunched-up square.

With one hand, you reach into your bag, placing your phone in it as well as the crumpled paper. When your hand dips into the small compartment in your bag, your fingers meet a hard, rough-surfaced object. You retrieve it out of your bag before your eyes widen in utter confusion.

‘I don’t remember placing this in my bag.’ Your grip tightens around the chain as you direly reach inside the pocket of your sweater.

You grit your teeth, desperately swallowing down the still-beating heart down your throat as you feel your breathing rate quicken. You pull out the chain which you picked up earlier in the café.

You bring both chains side by side, only now noticing the slightest difference the stones have. The vertices and edges of both stones poke and stretch into completely different sides.

It can’t be.

You bring the two charms closer to each other. The smallest fraction of you hoping that your thoughts were completely wrong, but as desperately as you prevent yourself from admitting, you know all too well that you dreadfully want all your presumptions to be true.

You close the distance between the two stones, and with a soft clack, the surface of both charms meets each other, one fitting perfectly into the other. The edges of your charm impeccably outline the other ones.

You could no longer hold back the sobs from escaping your throat as a wave of epiphany washes you whole. Tears gush off the brim of your eyes, drenching your cheeks, eroding your whole body system.

You couldn’t suppress a shriek when a sudden acute pain rush through the back of your neck, your hand flies to the area, in the hope to chase the pain away, at the same time bringing the two charms closer to the spot.

Your other hand grabs for your seat, your body swaying as it loses balance before nothing but darkness shut you out from the real world, consuming you with streams of past memories, chains of endless and mixed up voices strangling your hearing.

Your body crashed into his full force, channeling a chain of apologies out of your mouth, before his dark orbs met yours, hauling you wholly into it. Never had you met eye to eye with a pair so vast, so boundless that it could hold everything beyond what the universe could ever hold, you swear you could have lost in the immensity of it.

But the darkness that you are seeing now is nothing dreamy like those that are flashing at the back of your mind. It’s rather suffocating, grabbing you right at the neck.

“I’m sorry! I should have looked where I was going.” His tone hurried as he briskly got on his feet, both of his hands holding your side, aiding you to be on your feet, and that’s when you noticed the chain around his neck, dangling down reaching his lower torso. One that is akin to yours, with a greenish stone hanging on its end.

He looked down to where you were eyeing, his hand instinctually reaching the green charm as you did the same, mirroring his action, your hand fumbling with yours.

Your hand clenches the connected stones in your grasp, the only thing that is connecting you with reality.

Your heart thundered violently in your chest, pumping blood through your vein, sending a rush of electricity all over your body, empowering you with a feeling you have never felt before.

Love.

And even you couldn’t hear it, you knew all too well that this man in front of you could feel it too, judging by the looks in his eyes, mirroring those of deep attachment, fondness, and warmth with a glint of disbelief.

“I- I’m sorry I—..” a chuckle bubbled in his throat as he rake his hand through his hair, not even a second before it affected you too, giggles erupted from the both of you at the awkward meet-up but awkwardness was definitely not the one that was enveloping you both at the moment, only pure adoration and comfort.

“I’m Kevin.” His hand was directed towards you. As your skin met his warm one, you could feel a blush creeping up your neck, finding a home at your cheeks, tinting it in a shade of pink, one that is akin to those that were dusting his own cheeks.

You had found your soulmate.

You hunch down on the seat as a groan erupted from your throat, writhing in agony as your left hand holds the other as a wave of pain prods at your right metacarpal as if millions of invisible needles are poking into your skin.

After what felt like an eternity, you both broke the kiss. The kiss was affectionate, soft, one that made you feel safe. And that’s when a stray tear slips past your cheek, a wet spot forming on the page of the revision book in front of you, shaped into a circle of a darker hue.

“Hey hey.. why are you crying?” his hand flew to your face, cupping your cheeks and wiping the teardrop off your skin.

You abruptly shook your head as a chuckle bubbled in your throat, snickering at yourself for crying at almost everything. You wiped your tears away before placing your hand over his, your head hung low, not wanting to meet his eyes.

It was probably due to the stress and pressure the exam brought you. And maybe due to the fact that you have such a loving man in front of you who will always be at your back, your boyfriend, your home, your soulmate, which you think you would never find the reasons that would make you any deserving of him. The messiness of it all pent up and resulted in a wave of tears.

So it was not a dream after all.

“There, look at my crybaby.” He gushed before releasing your cheeks, patting his laps gently. “Come here.” He flailed his arms outwards, expecting a hug. You wiped the remaining tears before making your way to him. He wrapped his arms around your figure, rocking you back and forth, you both somehow manage to fit on the same small café stool.

Your body sways, following the motion of the train. The pain doesn’t subside even the slightest bit, remain torturing you the same, if it doesn’t intensify. You feel your heart numbing, the numbness is almost physical. You are somewhat thankful that you are alone at the back of the coach, the other passengers remain utterly oblivious to what you are battling.

“What do you mean? Kevin talk to me!” your hand tugged at his sleeve, forcing him to look into your eyes.

The tranquilness enveloping the park totally countered the tension between you both. When he called you, telling you to meet him at the park, this was not what you were expecting. You were expecting a cute, wholesome stroll occupied with nothing but fondness, both of you filling each other with your life events, keeping one another updated after days sans interaction; merely text messages and barely any call, let alone meet-ups.

“Come on, you were not like this.” Your grip on his arm loosened as you let your hand fall limply at his words, hanging soullessly on your side.

“I was not like this?” you scoffed, your eyes shooting incredulous daggers of glares his way. “Have you not seen yourself Kevin?” his dim expression flared you up in anger.

Your heart plummeted as each second filled with utter torturous silence passed by.

So this is really ending? This way?

“So you want to put an end to this. That’s what you wanted, right?” you felt a tidal wave crashed upon your heart in your chest, breaking it into pieces at your own words. The pain became even more intense as you literally mouth those words, letting them slip limply past your lips, touching your hearing.

And Kevin was feeling no less pain compared to you, if not worse, judging by his broken expression beside you. Yet no words left his mouth, his eyes still refusing to meet yours.

Because this is what he wanted after all.

“Fine. I’m going to play your game, Moon Kevin.” It took two to tango after all.

“No love, stop!” Kevin plunged towards you, trying to prevent you from going for what you are about to do, knowing all too well what your next step was going to be. But you were faster.

Your grip around the green stone dangling down your chain tightened as you yank at it full force, letting the connected chain break. The chain around your neck fell limply, dangling in your grasp.

And at that very moment, pain stroke you both. You hunched down with your hand wrapping around your neck as he fell on his knees, his fingers tugging at his dark ebony hair. Grunts and groans of agony interlacing each other as both of your charms blackened, the colours draining from both stones, resulting in nothing but pitch blackness.

With the remaining ounce of sentience you could muster, you reach down for the connecting chains, blindly groping the floor of the moving train, couldn’t afford to lose them both, as if your last glint of hope comes together with the black charm.

His hand grabbing for yours was the last thing you could feel, dragging you into his embrace before everything turned into darkness.

That’s when you regain your sight back, the scene interlacing with the real sight in front of you, stinging your two eyes as you gasp desperately for air, like a fish being tossed onto the dry land, as if you were just dunked into a roaring ocean. Sweats that are soaking you whole, gliding down your back just add your conviction to it.

As you are struggling against your own battle, straining to ease the acute pain stringing across your body, the train slowly comes to a halt as the automated announcement echoes throughout the coach, informing the passengers that they are reaching the next station. The station is nothing near your apartment and definitely has gotten quite far from the town that you just left behind minutes ago. But that’s the last thing that accrued your concern at the moment. You are given the chance to make amends, probably the last, and you are not going to waste it.

As the automated door slides open, you bolt out to the platform, your legs all wobbly from the earlier occurrence. Your hand comes into contact with the nearby bench, supporting you from kissing the floor. Your heart is still thundering violently at a speed that is worthy of your concern, but you have an even more important thing to do. You can worry about that once this is all finished.

Thousands of memories are not giving you a break, torturing your benumbed mind like tomorrow doesn’t exist. You tear the opposite direction of the sea of people moving about their day. You wouldn’t dare to waste any more time waiting for another train as you bolt out of the station, hailing an available cab.

After the not-so-long car ride yet somewhat felt like an eternity, you are standing in front of the café once again, the café being the only place that comes to your mind, the only place with the highest possibility of you finding him.

You dash to the counter, bolting for the barista, asking for that one usual’s whereabouts, whether he had visited the café once again today after your short encounter with him earlier.

Pain throbs in your skull, utterly clueless as the words that left the barista’s mouth totally contradict what you are hoping for.

After mouthing a curt thanks, you exit, having absolutely no idea on where you are going, but you put every speck of trust and absentmindedly follow the path your legs are taking you.

You walk about, turning at one corner, dashing down the staircase until sky-reaching apartment buildings come into sight. And then it comes to you, the forgotten memory, dashing into your mind and finding its place to settle in.

You are in front of your old apartment. Your shared apartment with Kevin.

Each and every one of it is already too much for you to take, everything that’s happening making you want to crumble and shut the whole world out, but the fact that there may be more that you have not known, that you have forgotten, is far more torturing than the intensity of it all.

And then you see him, his feet flying about in the lobby out onto the pavement until his eyes catch your figure.

All these years, he had been living here, facing his own demons.

“Not in the slightest bit I would mind losing a coward like you, Kevin.”

Your heart breaks at your own words from a few years back. You couldn’t have imagined how much it has had hurt him at that time.

Maybe you are the coward one after all this time. You are the one who ran away after all, running from your own demons.

His hair is tousled, poking in every direction, both eyes soaked in crimson, the veins on his neck protrudent. The tight set of his jaw shows how much strain he’s under, just as turbulent as you are.

It happened to him too.

He had remembered it too.

The lost, forgotten memories.

If you had felt like you are being destroyed earlier, seeing the embodiment that made up the majority of your past memories being physically present in front of your two eyes is now disfiguring you whole.

Your soulmate.

Your best choice.

And also your worst mistake.

Losing him was a mistake.

A mistake you don’t plan on repeating.

You drag your feet closer to him as you feel the world around you come to a halt, one of your legs stumbles across the other in the process.

Even looking like a wreck, the light that he carries with him never seems to dim. Kevin Moon, he’s blazing so bright, even the angriest storm could never put him out.

You have no remaining confidence to bring yourself closer to him, but the feeling of longing and yearning overcome everything. All you know is that you are not going to run away. Not anymore this time.

The distance between you both shrinks as you stand face to face with him. You withdraw your hand from your pocket, his soulmate chain in your grasp and yours snaking around your wrist.

You take his warm hand in your cold, trembling one, hooking the chain around his wrist as the stones connect. The black colour dims before it glints, swirling with multiples of shades mixing into one before it settles into a tint of green.

That’s when the dam of his eyes breaks, warm tears trickling down his cheeks onto your intertwined hands as you could no longer hold in the sobs.

“I..” you start, you wonder if he could register your cracking voice. “It was all my fault.” You inhale deeply, pushing down the tides that are boiling in your stomach.

I miss you.

Those three words echo in your head, taunting you as you couldn’t find the ability to bring yourself to utter it out loud. You want to cry it out so desperately, wanting to run into his embrace, run to where you belong. To him. Your home.

“I know I am selfish.” You hang your head low, couldn’t look at him in the eyes as tears filled your vision.

“I made a mistake. I am the mistake and you—” Every thought in your mind, each word that you had formed has been erased into nothingness as he shuts you up by connecting his lips with yours. The simple act of affection is too strong, silencing the wild wandering thoughts in you.

Flashes of colour slam into your mind as his soft lips rest against yours. You shut your eyes tight, expelling the remaining tears off the brim of your eyes as you feel like being at the centre of the world, only the two of you as the hands of the clock slows down.

Your legs weaken as he snakes his arm to your sides, preventing you from crumpling to your knees. You hook your arms around his neck, wanting to stay in this moment forever and never let go.

After what feels like forever, you both break the kiss, forehead resting against each other. His stream of tears never seems to end.

“It was never your fault. It is me who should take the blame.” You shake your head as both of his hands rest against your damp skin, cupping your cheeks.

“If only I had chosen to stop running away and actually communicate, none of this would happen.”

The relationship of two people really requires both parties to play their respective roles, with communication being the bridge connecting the two. And you realised that you both have treated your past relationship as something individual, which places you both at fault.

“I hope you can find it in you to forgive me.” His eyes puncture into yours, glinting with nothing but those of sheer love and hope.

“Only if you forgive me.” You both chuckle before you stand on your toes, once again pressing your lips against his, bringing him into a kiss, now no longer filled with heart-rending tears, only love and affection.

“Always a crybaby. My crybaby.” Kevin brush the errant strand of hair off your face, tucking it behind your ears.

“Oh, I think you should look at yourself.” You chortle.

You both are ready to set towards this road, again, together until the end of the line.

[jichanqz]

YEONBIN :: CAT&DOG @ MOA X TOGETHER DAY 1

[jichanqz]

K.SW | SIXTEEN

SYNOPSIS ⋆* soccer player rivals sunwoo and y/n both play for their university's soccer team. competing for the star player position, sunwoo and y/n are constantly at each other's throats, trying to outdo one another to get onto the front page of the school's newspaper

PAIRING ⋆* soccerplayer!sunwoo x gn!reader

GENRE ⋆* crack, angst, mutual pining

WARNINGS ⋆* profanities, verbal fight, mentions of verbal assault

WORD COUNT ⋆* 3k

⋮≡ [ HEADLINE EXCLUSIVE ] @flwrtbz @rindomo @minsikluv @bberryblossom @juhakfeedzz @markistheloveofmylife @illiterateliz @cvlliesstuff @17scheol @yeostars @marsophilia @iovnyu @sofie296 @morauvmi @swooxygen @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @jichanqz @love-svt

≈ HEADLINE M.LIST ˊ˗ ; previous

⋮≡ [ PERMANENT TAGLIST ] @stealanity @yourjaylaks @wooyoung-a @kimaya2209 @armysantiny @changminurheart @moonieric @sunfics @fullsunfluff @lcvekdy @deputyjuyeon @simpforsunwoo @nyujjan @jaekiths @i6swoo @fairycob @karsohn @nilesig @twentysixofmays @changmin-wrlds @mavericsohn @lisori @nanamioo @enhacolor @kyswoo @sunwoahkim @jaerisdiction @yunkiwii @ja4hyvn @choielyssa

Chanhee constantly shuffles in his position on the bleachers, but he finds it difficult to reach a sense of comfort when his partner in crime hasn’t even arrived yet.

He’s impatiently tapping his feet against the grass whilst chewing on the tip of his pen, anxiously searching the surrounding areas for any newcomers. His eyes can’t help but check his phone every second in case Changmin has returned any of his texts, but the only notifications he’s received are from his mom.

With Hyunjae leading, the entire team is on their seventh lap around the soccer field, leaving Chanhee very exhausted at the sheer amount of running within the first five minutes of practice despite only watching the group. His limbs have barely moved an inch, and yet he can already feel himself sweat bullets.

Eventually the pack of soccer players disperse throughout the field to do their individual stretches, and that’s when Chanhee catches you heading for one of the benches. He stands up with pride and tucks his pen behind his ear, believing that now is the perfect time to approach you.

“Y/N!” he calls, grabbing your attention with the wave of his clipboard as he makes his way over to where you’re standing.

“Woah there, Chanhee. You’re not supposed to be on the field,” you playfully scold. You look over both of your shoulders to make sure neither Sangyeon nor Hyunjae caught a glance of your illegal conversation with Chanhee. You put one of your feet up onto the bench and grab at the loose laces, tying them. “What do you want?”

“Where’s your brother?” Chanhee pants after stopping in front of you, aggressively sucking air into his lungs after the short exercise he’s received from jogging a few meters over to you. “It’s the first and only open soccer practice for the next few weeks.”

“Yeah, I know,” you scoff, pulling your laces tight. “He knows.”

“I really need him here, Y/N. How does he expect me to write this article on my own when I don’t know anything about sports, much less soccer? Please tell me he’s coming soon.” Chanhee sticks out his lower lip into a pout, standing jittery in his spot with every passing second.

You can only sigh in response, unprepared to tell Chanhee the unwanted news.

“I talked with him earlier,” you begin, “I tried getting him here I swear, but he really isn’t feeling like it today.”

“But he’s been looking forward to this specific day ever since you were born. I’ve been looking forward to this specific day since you were born!” he exclaims, tossing his hands up in the air. He flails them so hard that his clipboard nearly falls out of his hands, and this action grabs the attention from those around you.

You snort. “Okay, now that’s a stretch.”

“I’m not kidding, Y/N! We both talked about this day for the past two years, and all of a sudden Changmin isn’t feeling it? You’ve got to be kidding me, ri-”

“Choi Chanhee!” a voice interjects.

Both you and Chanhee turn to look at the voice, and the reporter audibly gulps at the sight. He begins to sputter as his clammy hands scrummage into a more professional position, keeping his clipboard over his chest in order to keep his blank sheets of paper away from eyeshot.

“Hello, sir, coach, err-”

“I thought we agreed that interviews would take place after practice,” Sangyeon huffs, pressing his lips into a firm line as he sets his hands on his hips.

“He’s assaulting me, coach,” you nonchalantly blurt, grabbing an unopened water bottle for yourself after popping open the cooler.

“Assaulting?!” Chanhee screams, grabbing plenty of prying eyes as he darts his gaze at you.

“Verbally, I hope,” Sangyeon jests with a raised eyebrow, looking at you for confirmation.

You blankly look at the two of them, shifting your gaze between their two figures before shrugging your shoulders.

“Sure, let’s say that.”

“Y/N!” Chanhee yells, watching you down your water with raised brows. He takes a step back, disgusted from your false implied claims. “I treated you with nothing but respect ever since I’ve known you, and this is how you treat me?”

Sangyeon only laughs and rolls his eyes, subtly shaking his head before turning to look at Chanhee. “What do you want, Choi?”

“Changmin isn’t here,” he whines, bouncing in his spot. “He should be here!”

“I already explained to you why he isn’t here,” you mutter, twisting the cap back onto the bottle before repeating what you said earlier. “He really doesn’t feel like it.”

“I don’t care about how he feels. I wake up every single day asking myself ‘Gosh Chanhee, why, just why, are you still alive?’ but you still see me dragging my ass out of bed and over to interviews with people that spit gum onto my shoes.” Chanhee humphs.

“Okay that’s enough,” Sangyeon says, cutting the conversation short. “Y/N, you need to be stretching right now. You shouldn’t even be here. Water breaks aren’t allowed till after the second round of laps.”

You gape at his words, looking at him with utter shock.

“I’m sorry, a second round? We just ran seven laps around the field!”

“Yeah, I was pretty generous today. I usually have Hyunjae stop around ten before stretches. You have ten more to go in a few minutes, so I recommend you take this time to save your breath for your lungs.” Sangyeon pats your back before giving you a gentle shove, urging you to leave.

“But wait! Y/N!” Chanhee yells as you begin to jog backwards. “Don’t go!”

“I can’t do anything, Chanhee, I’m sorry.” You frown and then turn around, running back to your spot on the field which results in leaving Chanhee alone with your coach.

“I’m sure the article will turn out alright,” Sangyeon says, trying to comfort him.

“By myself? I doubt it,” Chanhee grumbles under his breath, turning on his heels. He’s frustrated, unable to believe that Changmin, his best friend since basically forever, has ditched him on your most important day.

He’s about to sit back down on his spot to start on his notes when his eyes unintentionally roam the bleachers, and through the crowd, he catches the eye of someone who would make a great messenger.

Haknyeon regrets everything that was handed to him in life. He regrets having eyes, and he blames his mother for birthing him with a pair because if it wasn’t for them, he wouldn’t be walking down the hallway to Changmin’s apartment.

If he hadn’t looked at Chanhee, he wouldn’t be here. He wishes he pried his eyes away from him when he went to talk to you, but of course he just had to have watched the entire scene unfold and then have eye contact with him immediately after.

Of course, Haknyeon didn’t go down without a fight, but with Chanhee’s consistent begging, Haknyeon officially became his messenger.

Curse him and his stupid curiosity.

Haknyeon’s feet instinctively lead him to Changmin’s apartment despite not wanting to be there at all, and eventually he works up the courage to knock on the door.

Seconds pass without an ounce of noise from the inside, leaving Haknyeon irritated. His impatience forces him to press in the passcode, giving himself entry to the apartment.

He trails in, and the silence and lack of presence overwhelms him. It’s weird seeing it empty, especially considering how crowded it has been the past few days.

Usually you’d be by his side or Changmin would have company over, like Juyeon or Hyunjae, but there’s not one other person within his range.

It makes him question whether Changmin is truly in the apartment to begin with, but unfortunately the worn out pair of sneakers by the front says otherwise. Not to mention that the door to Changmin’s room is closed, hinting that Changmin remains inside.

Haknyeon quietly drags his feet over to the door, hesitant to knock with the amount of thoughts spiraling in his head. He isn’t sure how to approach this since he didn’t think he’d be facing Changmin this early on after leaving him alone in the rain yesterday. With a sigh, he fights against his fears and taps his knuckles against the door.

To his surprise, the door immediately swings open with a hoarse voice that greets him.

“I told you I’m not-...oh.”

Changmin’s heart falls to his feet and it causes him to immediately look away, not daring to face Haknyeon. His hair is messy and he’s dressed in pajamas from head to toe, leaving Haknyeon to believe that he hasn’t left his bed once.

Haknyeon barely has his eyes focused on Changmin, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans out of discomfort.

“You should be at practice,” he mumbles.

Changmin purses his lips before leaning against the doorframe, sighing.

“I know.”

“Chanhee sent me here,” Haknyeon explains, “and forcibly, may I add, so you should get dressed unless you want to go out like—that.” Haknyeon eyes his outfit pointedly before darting his gaze away once again.

“I’m not going,” Changmin deadpans.

“I know.”

“Great. Tell Chanhee to record it for me,” he mumbles. He’s about to close the door but then Haknyeon chooses to stick out his hand, preventing him from doing so. His hand firmly presses up against the door, and his eyes meet Changmin’s.

“You’re going.”

Changmin stares at him, silent, before letting go of the door. He drops his hand to his side and walks over to sit in his chair.

Haknyeon doesn’t dare to move an inch, watching his every movement as Changmin taps his fingers against his desk. After minutes of not doing anything, Changmin is fed up with the uncomfortableness brought to him, forcing him to speak up about what’s been bothering him.

“Look, Haknyeon,” he starts. “About what happened yesterday-”

“Oh, so now you want to talk,” Haknyeon scoffs, appalled. He enters Changmin’s room and rests his back against one of his walls, crossing his arms tightly over his chest as he continues to stare at him.

“Haknyeon,” Changmin tries again, standing up from his spot as he attempts to speak up. “I really, really-”

“No. Whatever you’re going to say? Forget it,” Haknyeon cuts. “I’m just here to bring you to practice, yeah? Nothing else. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Why can’t we talk about it?” Changmin asks, raising his voice as he takes a step forward.

“Because there’s nothing to talk about!” Haknyeon yells, pushing himself away from the wall to stand merely a foot away from Changmin. “Tell me, Changmin, what is there to talk about because from what I remember, I gave you a chance to talk yesterday, now didn’t I?”

His voice remains stern as he burns his eyes into Changmin. He doesn’t dare to move any close because he knows he’ll break, so he remains in his spot, staring him down as he continues.

“I left a bus and walked through a storm to give you a chance, and you blew it. You blew it, Changmin, so it’s over. Whatever happened, happened, and it’s best that we forget it because oddly enough, I don’t care. I never cared, and yesterday wasn’t any different.”

Haknyeon goes back to leaning against the wall, and his head falls back against it. He closes his eyes as his head tilts heavenward, calming his nerves as the returning silence swallows them both.

Changmin moves to sit on the edge of his bed with his head dropped to his feet, staring at the ground as he remains quiet due to the inability to speak.

After minutes of no words being spoken, Haknyeon decides to speak up once again, his voice coming out softer compared to earlier.

“Your apartment is small, you know,” he murmurs, opening his eyes so he can stare at the ceiling above him. “It’s hard to miss conversations that happen in the next room over. I heard everything…yesterday. I know you didn’t want me to tag along to begin with. I shouldn’t have, and I know that now.” He sucks in a sharp breath. “I regret it.”

Changmin grits his teeth, finding himself emotional at the remembrance of what happened the previous day.

“...Hak-”

“It was stupid of me, wasn’t it? To believe that I could redeem myself in the slightest if I made an extra sandwich for you.” Haknyeon laughs bitterly. “To hold this bit of hope that maybe, just maybe you don’t hate me entirely. I regret it all. These thoughts, my actions, maybe even me choosing this college to begin with. I regret thinking that maybe after two years, everything between us would be okay. We both would have matured, and we would set this childish past behind us. The bickering, the stares, the looking down on each other-”

“Haknyeon,” Changmin utters more firmly, cutting him off. He doesn’t want to hear any more of what he has to say, already emotional with the topic given. Here Changmin is, right in front of the man he’s supposedly hated for years, torn into pieces because of the reality he’s been tossed into. The facade he put up. The realization of why he hated Haknyeon in the first place.

“I regret it because none of this would’ve happened. I wouldn’t have had to walk all the way back to campus through the rain, and you wouldn’t have locked yourself up in your room all day. It’s not like you to shut yourself off like this. You would’ve been at Y/N’s practice right now if it wasn’t for me.” Haknyeon smiles solemnly as he speaks.

I’ve always been a burden to you, haven’t I?

“It’s not your fault,” Changmin tries to argue, but a crack appears in his voice.

It’s never been your fault.

“Whatever,” Haknyeon mumbles, pushing himself away from the wall. “Just- get dressed. I’ll be in the hallway.”

Changmin watches in defeat as Haknyeon doesn’t dare to spare him another glance as he exits.

He wants to break, he wants to scream for not understanding things earlier. For not understanding his feelings from the very start, the ones that have just unveiled themselves to him at this very moment.

And I’m sorry.

“Your passes are shit,” Hyunjae mutters, running a bit to the side as he struggles to stop the ball.

“Give me a break,” Juyeon groans. “I haven’t played all summer, remember?”

“What happened last year doesn’t excuse how the ball isn’t even going in a straight line, mister,” Hyunjae tuts. He kicks the ball back towards Juyeon. “Even Y/N’s doing better than you.”

“Comparing me to a freshman. Great.” Juyeon huffs and kicks the ball up into his hands. He wraps his arms around it and holds it against his abdomen. “Where is Y/N anyway?”

His eyes follow where Hyunjae’s finger is pointed to, and he catches sight of the big smile on your face. You're sharing a ball with two other teammates, continuously passing it around as you all converse.

“I mean it, really,” Yoohyeon says, kicking the ball your way. “I strongly believe that we’ll make it to finals this year! Especially with you on our team.”

“You really believe that?”

“Definitely! Back me up here, Jangjun.”

You almost trip over your feet as you run to stop the ball, Yoohyeon apologizing once again for how poorly she passed it. You kick it back her way, forgiving her with a smile.

“She’s not wrong,” Jangjun shrugs, resting his elbow on her shoulder. He ignores her complaints and continues pressing down onto her shoulder playfully. “We were close to making it last year, but we got cut due to Juyeon’s injury. He and Hyunjae are basically the team’s backbone. The legs, if you will. It’s impossible to run without having one supporting the other.”

“Juyeon got injured?” you ask, surprised at the newfound information. “How?”

“Beats me,” Jangjun shrugs. “But it happened near the end of our game with SNU during the quarterfinals.”

“I just know Kim Younghoon has something to do with it.” Yoohyeon kicks the ball angrily due to the topic before realizing that her kick wasn’t going straight towards you at all.

“Who’s Kim Younghoon?” you ask, jogging over to the direction where the ball was kicked in order to receive it.

“Someone you’d never want to encounter in your life,” a new voice enters, distracting you from trapping the ball under your foot.

You watch as it rolls past you at an incredible speed, and it makes you groan because you hate chasing after soccer balls. Runaway soccer balls truly don’t have a mind of their own, and you hate how you blatantly allowed it to pass you.

Juyeon’s smile drops when he sees how he distracted you, apologizing profusely as you rush after it.

“It’s okay, I got it!” you exclaim, reassuring your teammates.

Your eyes train on the ball as it skips away, but your footsteps come to an immediate halt when the fugitive is stopped by someone’s foot, and it certainly isn’t yours.

You’re about to thank the person for sparing you a jog across the entire soccer field, but you find your words caught up in your throat when you catch a glimpse of who’s standing in front of you.

His thick crimson lips quirk up into a smirk when your eyes land on them. A smug look dances on his face when he kicks your ball up and into his arms.

“Long time no see, don’t you think?”

He takes a few steps forward and then gently shoves the ball into your chest, fingers still latched onto it. The sinister smile that creeps up onto his face disorientates your thoughts, and your attentiveness causes you to catch onto the way he ever so slightly tilts his head to the side and into the crook of your neck.

His breath hits your ear, and he’s so close that you’re afraid he’ll be able to hear the effect he has on you.

His lips part to whisper something ever so delicately in your ear, something so seemingly sweet if it isn’t for the venom that drips casually from his tone.

“It’s about time you have some real competition.”

HEADLINE [ M.LIST | SEVENTEEN ]

NAVIGATION ─ THE BOYZ

© https://hvae.tumblr.com/

[jichanqz]

1 | you have a new voicemail

꒰ synopsis ꒱ seven years of unanswered calls, but hyunjae refuses to give up on leaving voice messages in hopes that they'll be listened to

꒰ pairing ꒱ ex-daycareworker!changmin x student!hyunjae (platonic)

꒰ genre ꒱ angst

꒰ warnings ꒱ references mcd, profanities

꒰ word count ꒱ 0.5k

‘ author's note!! 🍃 — a new series for the kidult collection! contains very slight spoilers for the fic kidult. also this is only the beginning, it gets angstier from here

NAVI | TBZ MASTERLIST | KIDULT COLLECTION

‘ taglist ›› @junglewoos @sonje78 @stealanity @yourjaylaks @wooyoung-a @kimaya2209 @armysantiny @changminurheart @moonieric @sunfics @fullsunfluff @lcvekdy @deputyjuyeon @simpforsunwoo @nyujjan @jaekiths @i6swoo @kyutown @karsohn @nilesig @twentysixofmays @changmin-wrlds @mavericsohn @lisori @nanamioo @enhacolor @kyswoo @sunwoahkim @jaerisdiction @yunkiwii @ja4hyvn @choielyssa

Hello, you've reached Ji Changmin. Thank you for calling, but unfortunately I can't answer your call at the moment, but please do leave a message! I'll try to get back to you as soon as I can.

hey

again

it's hyunjae

well, that's a given

you've been ignoring me for the past seven years, so of course you know it's me

even if i call you with a completely different number, you'd wait for someone to speak before hanging up once you realize it's...me

my voice

[pause]

do you, like, make a mental note of the phone numbers i call you on?

because you never block them

and i know this because i'm still able to call you on the same number i've had since you've left

it kinda makes me wonder

you having my number unblocked

is it a sign that i still mean something to you?

do you even listen to my voicemails?

i hope you do

i know you use this phone number on your website and promotional emails, so i know you're well aware of my calls

i'm very smart, you know

very, very smart

[pause]

clearly not smart enough if i keep calling you like this every month

fuck this is so dumb

mom even says it's stupid

like

why call someone that doesn't care about you anymore?

[pause]

but you still care about me, right?

because

[pause]

because i still care about you

anyway

i don't want to grow up

i'm already in high school

scary shit, i tell you

i probably shouldn't be cursing to the guy that watched over me when i was a kid

[pause]

you know

i think about what if you hadn't saved me

and some days i do wish you hadn't

because maybe

life would've been better that way

okay wow

hyunjae dark era

anyway

change of topic

i, uh....

uhm

i hope you're doing well

i am, if you're wondering

[pause]

i always wish that one day

you'd be so busy that you won't even notice the caller id on your phone

and then you'd pick up

and

i'd get to hear your voice

we're basically strangers now though

we both moved on

but i can't act like you weren't part of my life

i can't act like i don't think about you every once in a while

wondering if you're okay

wondering if you're happy

wondering if you have someone to love

and

and i can't act like you weren't like a father figure to me, okay?

[pause]

i'm sorry

i didn't mean to

snap like that

i swear i moved on from everything

i just

can't act like you're gone because you're not

you're not gone

you're here

you're alive

and i really want you to pick up

i want us to reconcile

to learn the people we've become

but since you refuse to interact with me in every way possible

i still see you as the teacher that held my hand when things got hard

the one that gave me all that courage to be myself back then

the one that i

loved

[pause]

i still think about what you said

about us not being family

but

i still see you as

[pause]

as family

[pause]

i'm sorry

NAVI | TBZ M.LIST | KIDULT COLLECTION

[jichanqz]

Okay guys, I hate to ask this but we've got no choice.

Upon returning from the Ateez concert in Atlanta, my partner and I tested positive for COVID. This means that we have to take five unpaid days off of work because our job does not pay us for quarantine leave. While we knew this was absolutely a possibility, we were not aware of this policy change until recently.

We have a small amount of money put back but not nearly enough to cover what we would both make in a week. I would make about $250 and he would make about $300 in one week, for a total of about $550. Normally one of us being sick wouldn't be an issue since the other can pick up the slack, but this takes away both our income.

So I am asking for any help that you lovely people think you could give. If you can't donate, that's totally fine and I understand! I still love you and I hope that you can reblog this post to get it more visibility. Anything helps. Having a week of no pay is a huge setback, on top of the fact that we were paid little to nothing for the time we took off for the concert due to our PTO hour restrictions.

If you're uncomfortable donating outright, I am also taking commissions on my Ko-Fi so I can provide content in return. I will be taking commissions for GIF sets ($5 each) and drabbles ($10 each).

This is my PayPal for donations.

This is my Ko-Fi for donations and/or commissions.

I also have CashApp and Venmo if those are things you prefer to use, you can DM me for those usernames.

Thank you for reading and please don't worry about our health. My partner is not showing symptoms and I'm only mildly sick.

[jichanqz]

stay ✩ lee hyunjae

dedicated to our official mood maker @wooyoung-a ! i was already planning to dedicate one of my writings to you, so here is the opportunity ! thank you for always bringing joy to my feed, you're a living angel. i love you ♡

song inspiration : stay — justin bieber & the kid laroi

genre : angst

warning : cheating, hyunjae is an asshole

word count : 1.2k >

i do the same thing i told you that i never would

when her lips were on his skin, all hyunjae could think about was you. when her fingernails scratched his back, he thought of you. when she told him that she loved him, he only saw you. you were all over his head when he was fucking another girl, while you waited quietly for him at home, knowing full well what he was doing. hyunjae remembers the first days of your relationship perfectly : your eyes sparkling with happiness every time he looked at you even just a few seconds, your bright and sincere smile when he promised to never betray you, to never cheat on you, to never hurt you. he remembers that delicate way you had to drown yourself in his lies, to hang on to his kisses like a desperate soul, like you have nothing to lose. you were like the color white, so pure and innocent, flawless, making him want to dye your perfect palette with gray. he didn't think about your feelings, even less when he was dancing close-knit with another girl in a nightclub, right in front of your eyes. hyunjae didn't care when your friends told you to let him down, telling you that he was nothing but a beautiful asshole, because he knew he had you between his pianist fingers, playing with you like mozart playing with musical notes.

i told you i'd change, even when i knew i never could

once, twice, three times in a row, hyunjae was taking a new girl to a different hotel room, making all her fantasies come true, letting her scream his name, ricocheting against the walls as thin as paper, with the sole aim of making the women of the adjacent rooms dream of him. four times, five times, six times in a row, you greeted him as if you ignored all that, like nothing ever happened, as if the lipstick marks on his shirt were just hallucinations. you never said anything about his late returns, and even when he apologized for sleeping with another girl, you just stroked his hair, arming yourself with your beaming smile even in the darkest of nights, telling him that you forgive him and not to do it again. seven times, eight times, nine times in a row, hyunjae promised you not to touch a single other woman, making sure to you that being a cheater was over for him. that he loved and wanted only you, that all these girls were just mistakes, stones placed in his path to deviate him from his initial path. who was you from the start. ten times, eleven times, twelve times in a row, you fell into his trap again, engulfing yourself in his beautiful words, his delicate touch and his chocolate eyes. you naively imagined that his nocturnal escapades were only some hanging out with friends, as he busied himself cracking the slats of your best friend's bed.

i know that i can't find nobody as good as you

he didn't know how you put up with his shitty behavior, drying his tears in warm kisses whenever guilt gnawed at him. hyunjae didn't understand how you could let him play with you and your feelings, as if you were his perfect obedient puppet. he no longer counted the times he ran to your shared apartment, his neck immaculate with hickeys and his back covered with scratches. he didn't know how you could stand the scent of other women on his clothes, imagining their hands crawling over his body while you stayed home waiting for him. again and again. and despite knowing that many others climbed to the stars thanks to him, you stayed there, your hand always fitting perfectly in his. when the guilt of leaving you aside — to do his personal business behind your back — got the better of him, throwing himself at your feet in a sorry state, fake tears flowing from his eyes, and bogus excuses all made up, you always picked him up. with your warm smile and your kind eyes, your strong hand and your reassuring words, telling him it was nothing, that you could fix it all, because your relationship was stronger than anything. you were so naive that you pity him, and he loved that side of you as much as he hated it. why did you let him treat you like that? why don't you get mad and hit him like others would? he knew full well that he would never find someone as patient and manipulable as you, because you were so desperate to have his love, that you persuaded yourself that his « i love you » were real.

i need you to stay

he felt a huge heartbreak that day, when he came home one morning after a funny night, finding a mysterious note on the kitchen counter. he didn't expect to find your handwriting engraved on it, salt droplet stained ink. it seemed like you had enough of playing, that you were tired of suffering because of his infidelities without saying anything. he couldn't blame you, but he wondered how you could have lasted so long with him. you endured everything : his infidelities, his harsh words, his absences, his rejections. despite all that, you stayed close to him, like a dog stays close to his master. hyunjae was just playing with your naivety, so why did he suddenly seem lost and disoriented? why did his eyes sting? why were his hands shaking? why did he feel like he was being stabbed in the heart? what did you do to him? he had never felt that, and yet he had known many conquests. he felt bad to read your sorry, noted here and there, on the rough white paper. he felt bad to read that you couldn't stand his behavior anymore. exploring your words, your emotions and how you felt through this sheet of paper, hyunjae recognized the trembling hands, the heart like a crystal glass crashing on the ground, and the salty pearls escaping from the eyes, surging down the cheeks like an avalanche of emotion too hard to hold. his state was similar to yours : completely broken. he wanted to run after you, but he didn't know in which direction to look for you, he didn't know where to find you because he didn't know your favorite places. he didn't know anything about you, because all he cared about was your purity. he felt like a sudden cold envelop him, like he's just wearing a t-shirt in the middle of the north pole. hyunjae felt a lack consuming him little by little, the lack of your hand in his, your kisses on his skin, your body heat engulfing his. feeling his legs grow weak and having trouble breathing, he collapsed on his knees with a crash, tears streaming down his perfect face.

for the first time in his life, hyunjae felt empty. he had lost the one thing he thought he could count on, and it was all his fault. he thought he was learning what it was to love with you, when he only made you hate him. he needed you to stay near him, while you just needed him. you made him believe in love, when he made you hate this feeling.

and now he was completely alone.

tbz main masterlist !

[jichanqz]

- — synopsis ⋆ the transfer student overtakes your position as captain on the swim team right when he's recruited, causing a rivalry to form between the two of you

— - pairing ⋆ swimmer!hyunjae x genderneutral!reader

- — genre ⋆ a little angst

— - warnings ⋆ none for this chapter

- — word count ⋆ 1.9k>

ONE | MASTERLIST | THREE

TAGLIST : @wooyoung-a @twentysixofmays @jichanqz @i6swoo @suzy-rainbow @pinkkyu @sunfics @theboyzeu @super-btstrash-posts @jiminxoxo @angelfqce @sunwoahkim @lilyujin @heojangmi @hyunjaeluv @rdflare51 @swooxygen @moonieric @tbzboba @ilovechanhee @soobins-left-dimple @nyujjan @jaekiths @sknyuz @love-svt @erikyoongs @bubutaeyongie @carolnina55 @minhyunct || fill the form to be included !

CHAPTER WRITTEN BY : stealanity

« can you believe it?! » — your voice, armed with an ounce of anger, ricocheted off the walls of kevin and juyeon's shared room. the poor boys has been listening to you complaining for over an hour, your body full of energy pacing the room. juyeon observed your walk and your big gestures, noticing the little details that showed your displeasure : the way you cracked your fingers, nibbling the inside of your cheeks while constantly frowning, sighing excessively, rolling your eyes like they can reach the back of your head. and kevin.. he seemed a little amused by your reaction, trying to hide his laughter with a jaded look that dominated the thin features of his face.

« how can he think i won't be captain anymore, uh? who does he think he is? » — crossing your arms against your chest, you were really wondering by what right he allowed himself to say that. sighing for the umpteenth time, letting you fall between the two boys, you felt some invisible pressure crush your shoulders. kevin suddenly patted your thigh, in a comforting gesture that made you raised an eyebrow, giving him a question-filled look. « don't pay attention to him, » he started to say, getting up and stretching to his room, « he probably just wanted to tease you. on top of that, we all know you are the best at swimming. » — a slight smile took place on your lips, because deep down you knew you were good at this sport : in fact, you weren't captain of the team since two years for nothing. not giving you time to answer, kevin apologized saying he had some important homework to do, leaving you alone with a juyeon not very talkative today.

feeling the sudden need to find comfort in human warmth, patiently waiting for kevin's door to be nice and well closed, you pivoted towards your friend, coming to snuggle in his arms, wrapping your arm around his slim waist while resting your head against his chest. your lips were in a pout, your upset mind full of questions not seeming ready to calm down. and to top it off, juyeon seemed way too quiet compared to this situation, he who would have been the first to reassure you and make sure that none of this will happen. playing with the edge of his t-shirt nervously, you suddenly felt his fingers caress the frail skin of your arm, before a sigh escaping from the corner of his lips. « juyeon, what do you think? » — your voice was weak, almost uncertain, causing the older one to swallow. you felt a slight tension set in, his body tensing under your fingers as he unwittingly tried to pull away from you, making you frown without understanding his lack of reaction.

« y/n listen.. maybe it wouldn't be a bad thing if you weren't the swim team captain anymore.. » — you were caught between astonishment and disappointment. from the start, juyeon was the one who supported you the most : cheering you on at every opportunity, taking care of your sore muscles, chasing each of your fears and each of your doubts, standing up for you on all occasions. but obviously, not this time. you don't understand what you could have done to lose his support, and you understood even less why he preferred to take sides with a complete stranger rather than you. « what– », he didn't let you finish your sentence as he got up from the sofa, slipping one of his hands into his pocket and the other, nervously around his neck, « look y/n, you could rest more and have less pressure on your shoulders. you could enjoy your life a little more, instead of spending each of your free hours training. » — you were inevitably in shock, not daring to believe a single word that juyeon had just said. obviously, it was not easy : you had more responsibilities, meetings, you had to make more efforts than the others — but that didn't mean you wanted it to stop.

offering a sorry smile to juyeon, trapping your lips in a straight line, you walked to a corner of the room, picking up your bag and phone without saying a word. you were hurt, genuinely hurt, but you weren't going to argue about anything tonight with someone who didn't believe in you. a sadness seized your heart at this precise moment, directing your body with a determined step to the exit door, without being able to reach it. juyeon's strong body blocked your way, one of his hands resting delicately against your cheek. despite the anger and sadness that grew in the pit of your stomach, you did nothing to move him away, staring at an invisible point while listening to him chatter : « i say that for you, y/n, because i care about you. a lot. »

your expressionless face remained unmoved, eventually pushing his fingers away from your face, with the back of your hand. continuing on your way, you pressed the handle, taking one last look at the boy before leaving the room for good : « if you really cared about, me you wouldn't tell me that. cause you know i wanna be the swim team captain more than anything. » — your sentence went unanswered, leaving a remorseful juyeon behind you.

strolling through the crowded streets of your city, you kept muttering in your teeth : your words composed of a mixture of anger, disappointment, sadness, and frustration. everything got on your nerves and you could not wait to end up under your blanket once you get home. the cold gave you sore cheek, and the rain threatened the sky to fall to the ground, encouraging walkers to reach the warmth of their homes very quickly. on your side, you weren't that bothered by the rain — your life was 100% water after all. water was everything to you : the rain droplets delicately falling on your delicate face ; the warm water of your well-deserved shower, relaxing each of your muscles after a long day of training ; bottled water that you swallowed at least hundred times a day to keep you hydrated enough ; and finally, the filtered water of your school swimming pool, which was undoubtedly your safe place.

underwater, you felt safe, almost invincible, nothing ever gave you more joy than swimming. since childhood, swimming has always been a hobby for you, a hobby that has turned into a real passion, pushing you to redouble your efforts to become the best in this field that fulfilled you so much. but now, it was as if everything was falling apart, sweeping away all your efforts in a destroying gust, knocking you off the chess game you were queen on. kicking the air with your foot while sighing, you hurried up to your house, avoiding as many altercations as possible.

when you finally walked through the door of your shared apartment, the place was unsurprisingly deserted. sunwoo was rarely there, your busy schedules did not give you enough free time to spend some moments together at home. you left early in the morning to enjoy the deserted university swimming pool, while he returned late at night after his endless hours of work. nothing was easy right now, your mind was playing a funny trick on you : were you worthy enough to be the captain of the swimming team after all? you suddenly realized that the comfort of his words and the warmth of his delicate hand cuddling yours, were starting to really miss you.

a sigh left your lips, letting your bag crash onto the living room floor, before your weak body just did the same. you found yourself now in the middle of your living room, your hair still wet from your trip to the pool, sitting on the ground watching the small, almost invisible dust particles wandering around in the sunlight. they were like stars in the vast infinite sky, and like you in the blinding vastness of the human world.

as tears of frustration rolled down your cheeks without permission, you started rehashing all kinds of questions that had long been in the back of your mind. this stranger had puppet you for a split second, using that short amount of time to mess up with your head. how could a pair of lips as beautiful as his, could wreak so much havoc with a few wet kisses? you did not know that a man could have so much power in him, and you even less thought to be one of his victims.

you were terribly angry with him for causing this mess in you, you felt awfully confused and suddenly alone, but also angry. you weren't good enough to be a captain? had these years of hard work been wasted? you didn't know what to think anymore. obviously you knew you were good at it, you knew what you were worth, you knew the team members were counting on you. juyeon might have been right about you only living for swimming, but it was the only way for you to feel alive — being under the water was your escape, you felt free. you thought that in the water, nothing could reach you, like a protective shield enveloping you in all its softness. being an overworker has never been easy, especially when you are also a perfectionist. several tears of frustration have already mingled with the chlorinated water of the pool, camouflaged in a corner of the latter, early in the morning or late at night, in a moment of insignificant weakness — which you chased all damage in a victorious smile, despite it being wobbly.

letting the tears run down your cheeks, slaughtering your doll face, you silently observed the ground, his breathing slightly choppy. you were hoping inwardly that sunwoo wasn't going to come back to the apartment, not wanting anyone to witness your moments of weakness : even though you knew his lovely smile could heal any of your ailments. you just wanted people to keep a strong image of you, you wanted to make a good impression. but this hot as hell stranger had succeeded in bending this bold and confident image, making you lose control at the simple sight of his body sparkling with chlorinated pearls. nervously biting your lip with the simple attempt to contain your crying and annoyance, your attention shifted to your phone which vibrated next to you with a simple message that offered a sweet warmth of comfort to your worried heart.

📩 kevin : i overheard your conversation with juyeon : don't think too much about it, he's just worried about you.

📩 kevin : oh and don't forget that we will help changmin to choose his soulmate jewelry soon, it will change your mind !

you knew that tomorrow, you would feel better, because despite the worries that gripped your damaged heart now, life continued to take its course — and you had to do the same. after silently reading kevin's message, you dried off the salty pearls that slid down your cheeks, forgetting the mess this stranger had made in you while praying that he was just a particle of dust in your sunlight.

ONE | MASTERLIST | THREE

fill out this form to be included in the taglist !

© stealanity, hvae

[jichanqz]

- — synopsis ⋆ the transfer student overtakes your position as captain on the swim team right when he's recruited, causing a rivalry to form between the two of you

— - pairing ⋆ swimmer!hyunjae x genderneutral!reader

- — genre ⋆ slice of life, slightly suggestive

— - warnings ⋆ profanities, slightly suggestive

- — word count ⋆ 1.5k

SUFFOCATING M.LIST | TWO

TAGLIST : @wooyoung-a @twentysixofmays @jichanqz @i6swoo @suzy-rainbow @pinkkyu @sunfics @super-btstrash-posts @jiminxoxo || fill out the form to be included

CHAPTER WRITTEN BY : hvae

The click of the door echoes throughout the hallways of the recreational center when it scans the card you’re holding up to the sensor, providing you entry into the swimming facility. The tranquil ripples from the pools greets you, and the glistening blue of the water reflecting off the ceiling becomes the first thing you notice as you walk in. The second thing that catches your attention is the loud splash that fills the room, crashing its way into your eardrums.

Through the dim lights is a figure submerged in one of the bigger pools of the facility, and the stranger easily resurfaces after his dive with a follow-up freestyle stroke, completely unaware of your newly added presence. As his feet kick against the water, your eyes are busy tracing his every movement. You attempt to make your way over to your undesignated bench as discreetly as possible, eyes unable to remove themselves from the stranger in the pool when you toss your towel aside. Your hands begin to rest on your hips as you watch, chin jutted out as you observe the motions of his arms.

As the captain of the swim team, the pressure to be the best has never faltered in the past two years you’ve been in college. This causes you to grow accustomed to entering the swimming facility early in the morning to practice. Five AM, to be exact, so it’s safe to say that you’re slightly startled by the extra presence in the facility. Though, your facial expression shows no sense of being bothered as all you choose to do is examine the way his limbs work to get him across the pool. The stranger is neither wearing goggles nor a swim cap, leading you to believe that he is just like any other student that attended CKU.

Now, would a regular college student enter the swimming facility at this time of day? Most likely not, but you’ve disregarded any logical reasoning as you’re positive that he isn’t on the swimming team; your swimming team. Unfortunately, the way his strokes easily take him across the pool has yourself nearly convinced otherwise.

When he reaches the end of the wall, his hands clutch the edge with a heaving chest. His momentary break has you spotting a glimpse of the features that have been sculpted onto his face, and not so long after, you’re analyzing his attractiveness as well. It surely helps when he glides a hand through his dark locks, exposing his soaked forehead before hoisting his arm over the gutter, pushing himself out of the water.

No words are shared when your eyes meet, and his sharp eyes have you gulping. His towering figure makes the lanyard feel heavier around your neck, and it’s to the point where you feel as if it would grow tangled with the necklace accompanying it. The pendant connected to the chain glows a beige blue—one that signifies tranquillity—as the stranger approaches you, and you’re able to catch sight of his soulmate jewel on a band around his finger. The jewel illuminates the same color as yours, but you don’t think much of it when he stands next to you.

“I wasn’t expecting company,” he comments nonchalantly, grabbing the towel that sat besides yours.

“And neither was I,” you scoff.

He’s looking at you while he blots his face with the material, eyes refusing to move from you. This causes him to easily catch sight of how you’re taken aback by the sudden closeness of his displayed torso in front of you, making a grin waltz its way onto his lips ever so gracefully. He roughly runs his towel through his hair, scrubbing it while the silence returns.

Meanwhile, you have chosen to take off your lanyard, tucking the membership id into your towel before interrogating him.

“I’m assuming it’s your first time here.”

The bold claim has one of his brow’s arching, slowing his movements.

“What makes you say that?”

“Lucky guess,” you blatantly lie—and he catches it instantly—but you couldn’t have cared less.

Instead of rebutting, he watches as you hook your fingers under the hem of your shirt before pulling it over your head. The removal of outer clothes has left him completely flustered, especially when you toss the piece of clothing at his chest. His eyes have visibly grown wider with a sense of confusion on what to do, and you’re having a hard time holding yourself back from laughing.

“First time seeing someone ‘strip’,” you outwardly joke. “Or are you just scared of a swimmer in a swimsuit?”

Your taunt visibly has him allured, the poor stranger frozen in his spot as your lips work up a grin of your own.

“It isn’t, in fact,” he mutters, clearly speaking to reassure himself. He clears his throat right after, tossing both his towel and your shirt aside on the bench. “And for your information, I am not scared of a swimmer in a swimsuit.”

His latter claim has him almost snorting at what he’d just said, left in utter disbelief over the effect you have over him.

“Well, if you don’t mind, I’m going to go for a swim.” You take a few steps backwards as you jab your thumb over to the pool the stranger has just left before diving into the water, not giving him a chance to react.

It takes you a second to open your eyes under the water, adjusting to the blinding lights that illuminated the pool. When you resurface, you somewhat expected the stranger to have left by now, but he resumes to stand in his place, his feet truly rooted to the ground.

You swim up to the edge before bringing your arms over the gutter, and your simple gaze is enough to urge him over.

“Mind if I join you?” he asks, slow footsteps making their way over to you.

“I don’t see why not,” you hum in response. The corners of your lips curl into a wicked grin when he dips his toes in the water, clearly hesitant to join you.

Choosing to be playful, you use your feet to kick away from the wall, pushing yourself away from him as he enters the pool. You laugh when you see his face of shock, and eventually he’s swimming after you.

His sheepish demeanor surely diminishes when he has you against one of the walls, trapping you. He’s breathing heavily as he locks his gaze with yours, but his eyes eventually become solely focused on the smirk lingering on your parted lips.

Your glassy eyes are clearly mirroring his, and the next thing you know, the stranger is leaning forward to capture your lips in his.

You comply almost instantly, tossing your arms over his neck as he hooks an arm around your waist, bringing you closer into his embrace. His other hand is gripping onto the edge of the pool, keeping you anchored to the wall behind you.

And for the mere second your lips are locked, the soulmate pendants you both wear are adorned with a blooming shade of pink that goes completely missed.

When he disconnects his lips from yours in order to briefly draw for air, you firmly clasp your hand over the back of his neck, keeping him close. Your head tilts to the side as if to initiate another kiss, but this time he’s quick to part away, dragging his lips down your neck. Passion intertwines with lust as his saliva glides across your skin, his kisses desperately making their way to your shoulder. You’re playing with the wet strands of hair that stood on his nape, breath hitched in your throat.

“Never took you as the type to hook up with the captain of the swim team,” you murmur, tucking strands of hair behind his ear.

“What type do I seem like?” He pulls away from your skin after giving your lips a peck, looking at you with slight curiosity.

You shrug, keeping your arms on his shoulders as you thought. “I’d take you as the shy type. Timid.”

He smiles, but this time, it seems forced. The stranger then scoffs before pulling away immediately after. The pink on your pendant fades and is replaced with a light shade of red: an introduction to anger.

The same shade falls on his ring when you find yourself mirroring his exact expression, eyebrows furrowed as you watch him leave the pool.

“Are you saying I’m wrong?” you ask after trailing his actions, grabbing your towel from the bench to dry yourself off.

He does the same, tossing your shirt back your way whilst avoiding your question all together.

“It’s just—such a shame,” he sighs, clicking his tongue. His response is rather dry, and he’s not even facing you as he slips on his flip flops.

“Huh? What is?”

You watch as he heads for the door, and you're hesitant on what to do, confused over whether your words had pissed him off.

But then he turns around, and out of all the things he could’ve done, he shoots you his infamous, yet also disingenuous, smile—the one that has your heart fluttering for miles—before being utterly stomped on when his response slip past the lips you kissed. 

“How you’ll no longer be the captain of the swim team.”

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© stealanity, hvae