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naoristerling · 2 months ago

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THE LAST SAFE PLACE

pairing: idol!beomgyu x fem!soldier reader click here for moodboard

Summary: The world didn’t end with a bang. It ended with a whisper, a deadly virus creeping through the streets, turning the living into something… monstrous.

It was supposed to be a mission. Get in. Get out. Rescue the five a-list boys holed up deep in the city of Seoul. But nothing in this new, broken world is simple anymore.

The dead don’t scare you as much as his starry eyes do—deep brown eyes that make you question if you’re the one who needs saving, after all.

warnings!: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. apocalypse!, survival!, blood!, character!deaths, zombies!, descriptions of!killing, gore!, attempted!sa, menace!reader, anxiety!attacks, signs of!pstd, cursing!, side oc characters, reader has her own last name, pov being switched from reader to beomgyu, mini timeskips, drunk-in-love beomgyu, emotional-baggage, let me know if I missed any! (not proofread, first fic.) smut!warnings: fingering!, oral!fem receiving, missionary, unprotected, slightbody!worship.

wordcount: 30k

notes: Whenever I saw writers call their fic their "baby," I used to wonder what that really felt like. Now here I am, sharing my first-ever fic—my baby—with all of you. It’s far from perfect; I know that. But isn’t that the beauty of writing? I believe we all have room to grow, and so do I.

This fic is inspired by two things I hold dear; Beomgyu (and TXT as a whole) and the idea of finding love in the middle of an apocalypse. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed creating it.

taglist: I just want to say I love you. thank you for giving this story a chance. @beomiracles @agustdiv1ne @binluvsu @saejinniestar @haowonbins @vampzity @usuallyunlikelyfox @gyu-tori @xodidarks @tubasmiracle @hyunelixbun @woncheecks @lovingbeomgyudayone @beomsdoll @baekberrie @parkweylyn @lun4mizuka @lilbrorufr @no1likemybbgcharlie

Saying the military "protects the nation" always felt like a hollow statement to you—something neat and rehearsed, meant for recruitment ads or patriotic speeches, you came to understand it all too well after years of service. Life is fragile, easily dismissed with a single command, and the concept of disobedience isn’t even an option.

You follow orders, make decisions, and carry out tasks already mapped out for you and your team. The oath you swore binds you to honour whatever higher-ups deem necessary for the greater good, no matter the cost. It matters not, even if it costs your life. That’s how it is.

You've lived like that for as long as you can remember, and sometimes you wonder if it’s that very belief—an unwavering fool—that drove you to become the soldier you are. You know by now that it will also be the very reason for your end someday.

The sound of banging at the door jerks you awake. Your eyes strain in the pitch-black darkness of the barracks. You think you might’ve slept, but it doesn’t feel like it—not really. More like you were just drifting in and out of consciousness, never quite at rest.

"Park. Roll Call." You blinked, scrunching your face. The pounding on the door didn't let up, insistent as ever, making it clear there was no chance of them stopping.

"I'm up." You shouted. The cool floor met your bare feet, and you groggily reached for your shoes tucked neatly underneath. Your eyes flicked briefly to the small bottle of sleeping pills on the bedside table. It sat there like an accusation, a stark reminder of the restless hours you spent last night. The tossing, the turning, the damp sheets sticking to your skin as you wrestled with the silence that refused to grant you peace.

You exhaled, rubbing a hand over your face. The pills—felt like the only option. You stared at the bottle, before grabbing it and slipping it into your bag.

Opening the door, you found yourself face to face with a smirking Do-hyun. "Good morning," he said, tone laced with sarcasm. "Except it’s 2:30 a.m. and we’ve got urgent business. Captain’s called us. Did not say anything about it."

"Must be top secret," you muttered, wincing as the harsh overhead light hit your face. You tried to tame your hair, pulling it into a sloppy ponytail. "C'mon."

You fell into step beside Do-Hyun, the sound of your boots hitting the floor echoing down the empty hallways of the garrison. Your shoulders brushed as you walked, the quiet around you almost unsettling. It was way too early—or maybe too late—for anyone to be this awake.

Seeing a few other soldiers from different units, you saw the same thing: them stumbling into their shoes, eyes half-closed, still caught somewhere between sleep and whatever had pulled them out of bed.

Your boots thudded against the floor with each step. Everyone knows the drill—soon enough, you'd find out what the mission was. Probably something you weren’t supposed to ask too many questions about. Face set in a hard, businesslike expression, you could feel another one coming. Another duty. Another unknown.

"This must be a big one," you muttered, scanning the growing crowd of fighters being herded into place. It was rare to see… this many called out at once. "How many teams are they assembling?"

"I don’t know," Do-Hyun replied with a tired sigh, clearly irritated. "I should be asleep, dreaming about anything other than this, but here we are." Early-morning chaos is the only thing that can get under his skin.

You followed him as he turned left down another corridor. People started staring as you passed—from other squads, lingering on the two of you. They knew. They knew who you were.

Black berets. Special Commands Unit. Infamous. You didn’t need to say it aloud; everyone already knows. The reputation of efficiency, precision, and something else—something darker. Your team never, ever failed. Your team didn’t just complete missions. You annihilated them.

That reputation followed you everywhere. You could still feel the weight of their gazes—some filled with admiration, others with something harder to read, maybe even a little fear. It wasn’t new. You’d felt it for years, people looked at you like you were a hero or a big, bad warning.

You were used to it by now.

When you finally enter into the room where your team usually gathers, the moment your eyes land on the team commander, you and Do-yun both instinctively, snap to attention, "Captain Joon. Park Y/N and Jung Do-yun, reporting."

"At ease. Sit down," Captain Joon responds, tone as calm as ever, looking at you directly as if assessing your state. You lower your salute, glancing around at the rest of your teammates already seated. Looks like you’re the last to arrive.

You make your way to an empty seat, crossing your legs as you also folded your arms, leaning back for comfort. You catch the faintest glance from another one of your teammates, Eun-woo, who raises an eyebrow at you but says nothing.

Captain Joon stands at the front, pacing back and forth, usual self missing. He opens his mouth, then stops, words not coming. He closes it again, staring ahead. It’s strange to see him hesitate like this—it’s not like him at all.

"Alright," he starts, avoiding anyone for eye contact. "We’ve got a new mission. It’s… a lot different than what we usually have." You uncross your arms and lean forward without thinking, drawn on the word "different." There’s something about it—his tone, his hesitation, maybe—that makes your stomach clench.

He continues, "This one’s high-risk. We don’t know exactly what we’re walking to. We’ve got intel, but it’s shaky at best; All I know is there’s a virus spreading. Not like Corona. No, it’s not like that. This one… it turns people into something, not human. They become—" He stops, words hanging in the air. "—they kill.. They attack. And they spread it to others. It’s not confirmed yet, but it will be. Soon."

He doesn’t wait for any further response. "We move out in an hour or two. We will be assigned to a specific mission in the middle of this. Get your gear ready. Dismissed." Six pairs of eyes follow him as he exits, leaving a heavy silence in the room. It's cold. It almost feels unreal—like something out of a movie.

You’d been to other countries, thrown into the thick of it—dealing with terrorists, and a hundred other ways to die. After all the things you’d seen, all the wars you’d fought, the idea of a virus outbreak was not the kind of fight you were used to.

"So, a virus? Like zombies?" Seo-jun’s voice breaks the stillness. He stands up, eyes wide with disbelief.

"It's medically impossible." Beom-seok replied, shaking his head, "Or at least… it should be." he added, almost to himself.

"If it's a virus—then what? How are we, supposed to stop that? A plan on how? Is there going to be a… vaccine? Some cure?"

You stand up, movement so subtle yet enough to make the others still, their attention turning to you. "We’ll figure it out," you say, voice firm. You lean back against the table, crossing your arms, "We always do. Whatever it is, we’ll handle it."

Do-hyun shoots you a look, then nods, his expression unreadable. "Right," he says. "We’ll deal with it."

The words hang in the air, and the newly shut door swings open with a loud noise, making everyone turn. A figure stands in the doorway, breathless. "Did you guys see the news?"

"Did you see the news?"

Yeonjun’s hands were trembling as he shoved his phone into Taehyun’s hands, practically forcing him to look. On the screen was a livestream—a news broadcast, but not the usual kind.

Taehyun blinked, his half-asleep face confused as his eyes adjusted to the screen. He stared, his breath catching when he realized what he was watching. He’d never been a fan of gore or horror, and this felt like both—worse, even. The video was chaos: people running, screaming, blood everywhere. Limbs tangled and barely escaping the streets. The sounds of panic—raw, animalistic—clawed at his nerves. He shivered, his voice coming out barely above a whisper. "Is this… a new movie or something?"

Yeonjun swallowed hard, his grip tightening on the phone as he snatched it back, his fingers quickly tapping away at the screen. "No," he said, voice low, "It’s from.. SBS."

"A drama from SBS?" Taehyun asked, still trying to make sense of what he had just seen.

"No," Yeonjun shook his head quickly. "News live stream. It's been trending. Saw it a couple of minutes ago." Panic flared across his face as he started typing furiously, sending messages to his mom. Where are you? Are you safe? Please reply. His heart pounded with every second of silence that followed.

As the phone screen glowed with his continuous text, the sound of a door creaking open interrupted. Soobin stepped out of the bathroom, checking the two of them that seemed frozen in place. "What happened?" he asked, voice laced with concern.

The question was left unanswered when Yeonjun’s phone suddenly rang. A small spark of relief flaring up in his chest—only for it to fade just as quickly.

It wasn’t from his mom. It's their manager, "Hello?"

Taehyun got up to get his own phone, his movements stiff. Soobin stayed by Yeonjun’s side, eyes flicking between the phone in Yeonjun's hand and his face—filled with anxious expression.

"He’ll speak to you. He wants to," Yeonjun said, meeting Soobin's gaze. His voice was uncertain. Yeonjun did not want to miss out on anything, but the manager had already requested for their leader. Soobin nodded, catching the worry in the latter's eyes. He offered a soft tone, "You can put it on speaker."

"Okay, listen up. I don’t know what’s really happening, but it’s dangerous, very dangerous out there. It’s… people eating people. Do not let anyone leave the house. All five of you. You've just had your groceries dropped, right?"

"Yeah, but what’s—" Yeonjun’s voice cracked, but the manager cut him off.

"Again, I don’t know much. None of us do. We heard the president’s about to announce martial law over this. The military’s locking down the city. You can’t go anywhere. All you need to do is stay inside. Help will come. When they get there, they’ll say my name. You’ll know it’s them." Hands trembled slightly as he held the phone, fighting the urge to hang up and try calling his mom again. Soobin saw it, his own anxiety spiking so he stepped closer, placing a steady hand on Yeonjun’s shoulder then taking the phone from his shaky grip.

"How long do we have to stay here?" Soobin whispered. "What about our families? They’re out there too."

"I don’t know," came the reply, the voice on the other end. "This started in Seoul, based on the news. The military’s setting up safe zones in every city around you. They’ll be protected. But no one can get in or out until things settle. Just… stay inside. I’ll keep you updated when I can-" The line went dead. They stared at the phone, signal bar disappearing completely.

"What are we going to do now?" They heard Kai mutter. He’d stepped out of his room after hearing the commotion. "Hiyyih is out here in Seoul too."

"I don’t have a signal now either," Soobin said, glancing at his own phone, face tightening as soon as he saw missed calls from his dad, his mom, and his sister, brother. He has missed their calls. With a frustrated sigh, he grabbed the TV remote and switched it on, only to be met with a busy signal. The screen flickered, in bold letters, the message appeared:

STAY INDOORS. ANY SIGNS OF WOUNDS, FEVER, OR VIOLENT BEHAVIOR—ISOLATE IMMEDIATELY.

He started flipping through the channels, to see something different. But each station showed the same warning. Taehyun returned, his face heavy with worry. "I got through to my mom, but she was crying too much to say anything. Just told me to stay safe."

Yeonjun was silent. He didn't know what to do, unsure if this was some elaborate prank. Looking around the room, suddenly realised something. "And where the hell is Beomgyu?"

"Sleeping."

A scream pierced the air outside the dorm room, making all of them jump in shock. Kai was the first to react, quickly moving toward the door and peering through the peephole. For a brief moment, there was nothing—just eerie silence. Then, a thump echoed, followed by continuous pounding on the steel door.

"Help!" The voice outside cried, voice hoarse. Shuffling was heard.

"Kai, get here!" Soobin hissed, Kai moved back, frozen in place, gaze still fixed on the door. Slowly, he crossed the room, his footsteps making no sound, cautious as he approached the youngest. He then grabbed his shoulders and pulled him back, away from the door. "Stay away from the door,"

Four men stood paralyzed, eyes wide and locked on the door, afraid that it might open, every muscle tense. The door vibrated with each pound from the other side, and the sound of another scream sent a chill down their spines.

Waiting in terrified silence, hoping whatever was outside would stop.

Yeah. They definitely shouldn’t go outside.

It had been seventy-two hours since the government declared the state of emergency.

Seventy-two hours, since the virus outbreak hit the public, and almost everything began to spiral out of control. Your team had been pushed from one task to the next—helping transport, fortifying armoury barricades, trying to keep the city standing. You feel like you couldn't even have time to blink.

Nothing seemed to stand a chance against the speed of the virus.

The radio crackled to life, its voice cutting through the tense silence. "It’s reported that some cases have been found outside of Seoul too."

You swallowed, the water in your canteen suddenly feeling too heavy in your mouth. Your rifle was strapped to your back—knives tucked into your pockets pulled at your clothes, a grim necessity. Your backpack packed with supplies, pulled at your shoulders.

The blood on the streets made your face contort. It wasn’t just the sight of it—it was the knowledge that innocent people, civilians, were the ones who’d ended up here. It was their blood staining the ground, their lives cut short. In just seventy-two hours, this outbreak had become a full-blown mad nightmare. It was real, right here—heavy, like the world had already started to fall apart around you.

"How long?" you asked, trying to shake the unease gnawing at your stomach.

"The report came in an hour ago," came the response. An hour. Sixty minutes. That’s all it took for the virus to spread. An hour, it was no longer just the city.

"There’s still some armory left in this area," Captain Joon says, brushing off the latest intel your team just received. "We need to clear this out, then head back to camp for the next mission."

You slip the water bottle back into the side pocket of your backpack and tilt your head back, stretching out any stiffness. It's been almost twenty-four hours since you last slept.

"Ju-won will come with us."

"The newbie?" Ji-ho raises an eyebrow.

But the thing is, he’s not really a newbie. The military doesn’t just let anyone into the special command unit—you have to be overqualified to even get a chance. People are reacting this way because it’s been years since anyone new has joined. They’re not used to it. The whole thing feels a little odd.

The boy walks forward. You glance at him, and it’s clear right away. The way his body stiffens when he sees seven seasoned soldiers in front of him—he can’t be more than twenty. But, something about the way he carries himself catches your attention. His eyes don’t drop, not even for a second. There’s no sign of hesitation or backing down, even as the rest of you appraise him, silently evaluating his physical presence. It’s almost as if he expects to be here, like he belongs.

He's got guts.

"Captain," he saluted, "Min Ju-won. Sent from Unit Two to provide additional assistance. Engineering."

Captain Joon gave a quick nod, his eyes briefly shifting to you. "Stick with Y/N." Ju-won lowered his salute and jogged over to where you stood.

"We leave in 10 minutes,"

Seo-jun let out a low whistle, looking over Ju-won with a grin. "Well, look what we got here. A kid at the end of the world. What a nice day it is." The sarcasm in his voice hung in the air as he effortlessly adjusted his M4.

"Ignore him. He's a twat," you muttered, clicking your tongue and feigning an attempt to kick Seo-jun's leg for his comment.

Ju-won, just smiled and waved it off, his eyes still locked on you with an almost admiration. "It's alright," he said quickly. "Y/N… then I must be looking at the black beret's most skilled team engineer and sharp-shooter."

"Damn right, she is," Do-Hyun chimed in, grinning as he playfully ruffled your hair. You slapped his hand away, the motion half-hearted but familiar.

The wind howled as the cargo truck went down the rugged road, the engine's hum barely audible over the gusts. Beom-Seok was at the wheel, while Captain Joon sat in the passenger seat, checking the horizon. The other six of you were crammed in the back, weapons ready.

You could feel that someone was watching you. You turned your head to the right, and sure enough, there he was—Ju-won, looking at you with an expression that was oddly calm for a day like this. You chewed absently on the sweet gum in your mouth.

"I’ve always heard your name, even when I was still training," he said almost embarrassed, but there was a hint of respect in his words, "A lot of us admire your skills. We even know your schedule—like when you will drop off at the headquarters."

"Yeah?" You raised an eyebrow, curious but not particularly moved. "What am I supposed to do with that?"

Ju-won grinned, unfazed. "And, of course, your temper is well-known too."

You snorted at that. Of course, it was. You'd made more than one higher-up nearly pass out with your snark and disregard.

Most of them acted like you were supposed to kiss their feet, even though they barely had the skills to back it up—just a good last name and a father in a high place. Lucky bastards. They got used to it—eventually.

Ju-won seemed to pause, thinking for a moment. "I want to be like you."

It caught you off, staring at him, no response from your lips. Who would want to be as miserable? Who in the right mind would? No one should have to carry this kind of burden, no one but you.

"You don’t know anything," you said, right after seconds of silence. "Trust me, you don’t."

Ju-won didn’t seem discouraged by your bluntness. Instead, he leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand, "Then maybe I can ask questions to get to know you better?"

"No." You're unsure of where he was going with this.

"Just one then? And if I do well on this mission, I can ask for another one after?" He pumped his fist after your silence, the small gesture that made you want to roll your eyes again.

"How old were you when you joined the military?" His voice was gentle, but his curiosity was clear.

It wasn’t a question people often asked, at least not in the way he asked it. Most were interested in your skills, the missions you’d completed, or the stories you could tell. No one, ever cared much about who you were before all that.

"About seventeen, officially," you replied, the words feeling strange in your mouth. Had it really been that long?

"Woah," Ju-won exclaimed, his eyes wide with surprise. "And how long have you been in service?"

You glanced out at the passing landscape, your thoughts briefly drifting to the years that had passed. "Seven years. Counting."

"You're so cool." His gaze flicked to you a few more times, but he didn’t press further.

The only sound in the pitch-black courtyard was the soft shuffle of footsteps against gravel, your team moved cautiously toward the overrun military outpost. It had been more than twenty-four hours since anyone radioed in, and in your line of work, that could only mean one thing.

Defeat. Death. They’re dead.

You gripped the AR-15 in your hands, its weight and feel as familiar as your own skin. Your eyes stayed locked ahead, scanning the shadows, the captain just a few steps in front of you. You could feel Ju-won’s breath on your back.

"Hold." The captain's voice barely rose above a whisper, but you caught it—sharp and commanding. His hand went up in a familiar gesture, signaling. Eun-woo and Ji-ho moved, splitting off to cover the blind spots—each one wary of possible exits or hidden threats.

The minutes stretched on, almost suffocating. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears, when faintly, a soft whistle.

A go signal. Finally.

The captain’s eyes flicked to you. Without words, he surged forward, and you followed, close, moving deeper into where the map was marked.

With Eun-woo and Ji-ho still posted at the entrance of the courtyard, and Beom-seok at the Cargo Truck to secure on the road, the remaining five of you moved carefully toward the building’s entrance.

Seo-jun reached for the rail handle and pulled it. It was a split-second decision, but he made the mistake of opening it too wide, too fast. The sound was deafening in the silence—a loud scrape of metal against metal. It was the darkness. Or maybe it was the way no one had heard anything.

The infected—so many of them—started to emerge from the inside, their eyes hungry, limbs jerking unnaturally as they snarled and gnawed at the space where you stood.

"Shut it off!" was yelled, but it was too late. Seo-jun tried desperately to pull the door, but the dead were already pushing their way through, toppling the door with brutal force. No stopping them now.

The growls, their gurgling moans, flooded. You took a step back, when you noticed the next wave of infected closing in from both sides—right and left. The courtyard was becoming a death trap.

“Guns!” Captain Joon barked, voice sharp and urgent. He raised his rifle, opening fire on the approaching dead, and you followed. You didn’t think, didn’t hesitate. You aimed at the nearest infected, firing with the precision you’d drilled into your muscle memory. Beside you, you felt Ju-won moving, his shots echoing through the chaos.

You kicked one of the infected coming too close toward you—hard. The sickening crack of its skull as it spun from the impact of your boots almost drowned out the growls, relief was fleeting—another wave was already pushing through.

"Move!" you shouted to Ju-won, grabbing him by the shoulder and shoving him to the right side, where it seemed there was a slight gap in the swarm. You followed, not letting up on your fire. Each shot to the head was methodical, each kill necessary for survival.

You kept repeating it in your head—headshots. Headshots, or they don’t die.

Through the haze of gunfire and screams, you spotted Do-hyun on the opposite side, surrounded but still fighting, his rifle a blur as he tried to hold the line.

"Captain!" you shouted, your voice rising over, as you saw the widening gap between your team. You continued firing, shots ringing out, each one a desperate attempt to keep the tide of the dead at bay. You grabbed the arm of an infected that crept up from behind, pulling it sidewards with all your strength. The thing flailed, but you kicked its legs out from under it, slamming its head down with a close shot. Blood splattering on your track pants.

Another bullet whizzed past you, too close, and you turned to meet Ju-won’s eyes. There was no time for words. He’d just taken down one of the infected that had come up behind you.

Minutes passed, but it felt like hours. The gunfire echoed in your ears, drowning out everything else. Then, you heard it—Seo-jun’s voice cutting through the noise.

"Captain. Orders!"

It was a soldier’s instinct, that need for direction even in the face of death. It was what you were trained to do, what you had to do.

"Fall back." His command came. The words you’d been waiting for. You began to step back, scanning the darkened courtyard. And then, just as you thought it couldn’t get worse, you saw it—a wave of infected flooding out from the building. Your eyes locked on one of them, a child, no more than twelve, wearing a middle school uniform.

No. No time to mourn, no time to think. You shake it off, turn your attention back to Ju-won, who was already falling back as well.

You ran, but it was a futile attempt. The middle part of the courtyard, the one that had been empty moments ago, was now swarming with infected.

“Go forward!” Captain Joon’s shouted again.

The sound of gunfire, the screams, the snarls—they were all blending together now. You saw Eun-woo and Ji-ho still at the entrance of the courtyard, firing relentlessly. But there were too many. It had to be the sound of all the gunfire—had to be why they were flooding in from the other buildings now.

You couldn’t run without firing. The infected were, too close for comfort.

“Ahhh!”

Ju-won’s scream tore through the noise, and you whipped your head to the side. You saw him—surrounded by four, maybe five infected. Their gnarled hands reaching for him.

You sprinted forward, the gun dropped in an instant. You reached the closest infected, grabbing its hair and yanking its head back with force. The knife you’d pulled was a flash of silver in the darkness, and you slashed it across its throat, the blade biting into the flesh with a wet sound.

You couldn’t fire. Not with Ju-won so close to them.

You felt Do-hyun and Seo-jun near you now, forming a small circle, keeping the infected at bay while you worked to free Ju-won. One by one, you killed the infected around him within seconds. But when the last one finally dropped, you froze for the first time tonight.

There's a wound. The bite. A deep, angry stash on Ju-won’s neck, blood spilling down his chest, soaking through and colouring his shirt. Your heart stopped.

"Y/N…" His voice was weak. Too weak.

"Come on," you said, trying to drag him to his feet. The others were silent, at the sight.

"Help me!" you shouted, the panic finally breaking through as the infected kept coming. "What the fuck are you staring at? Help me!"

Do-hyun snapped out of his thoughts and rushed to help. He moved to slide his arm under the left side, but before he could get a firm grip, Ju-won's hand shot out, pushing him away.

"Leave me."

"No. Come on."

“Just leave me, Y/N.” he whispered again, "I know I can't be helped."

“I’m not having this conversation—”

“It hurts!” Ju-won suddenly shouted, pain in his voice. His lips were turning blue, face pale, eyes glassy with tears. “It hurts so much. I—I want this to just end. End it. Please. I'm begging you.”

Your breath caught in your throat. He started crying, Min Ju-won.

“Y/N?” Do-hyun’s voice broke through, gunshots ringing, “Decide now.” Seo-jun’s voice was distant, more gunfire ringing out, words clear. He was asking you to make a choice.

"Shh, It’s going to be okay," you murmured, wiping his tears away, "Everything’s going to be okay." You pushed the sweat-damp strands of hair from his forehead, fingers brushing against his cold skin. “You’ll be alright.”

Min Ju-won.

“That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” You leaned in close, feeling his weak attempt to smile on your neck, breath coming out in ragged gasps when he felt you pressed your knife to the back of his head. “It’s okay, Ju-won.”

Making sure to do it quickly, you didn’t want him to suffer—not even for a second. He stilled, and then there was a quiet exhale against your skin. His last breath.

Arms went limp in your embrace.

Min Ju-won.

You stare at your hands, blood too much, not yours, too obvious to wipe away. The vehicle lurches forward, but nothing about this mission feels like it’s worth it. No weapons recovered. And one less soldier with you.

You ignore the stares of your teammates, the silent questions they’re too scared to ask. Even when your captain demands what happened, you can’t find the words.

Death isn’t new to you.

You’ve seen it, lived with it, had to pull the trigger more times than you care to admit. Had to deal with it more times than you'd care to count. But this… this is different. There’s a heaviness in your throat that won’t lift—can still feel him, still hear his laboured breath as you hold him in your arms.

The dog tags in your hand are cold against your palm. They’re not yours. There were too many of them. The infected.

No one could even bring his body back.

"We're here," Eun-woo says, the vehicle finally pulls to a stop at your temporary camp. He'd been staring out the window for the entire ride, lost in thought, barely noticing the road or time. You don’t wait for anyone to open get out. You push yourself out, body stiff and eyes burning, but you do your best not to let anyone see. You try to blink away the moisture, to keep it together. You can’t. You won’t.

“Y/N, I—” Seo-jun starts, his voice hesitant, reaching for you.

"Save it." you snap, harshly, not letting him finish his sentence. He falters at your glare, watching turn and walk straight for the barracks, not even sparing a second glance in his direction.

Your body, with blood, not yours, and the dog tag around your hands swaying with every step.

"Give her space. She did it herself. Again." Do-hyun’s voice is softer, almost reluctant, as he watches you retreat. His eyes follow you, lost in thought.

Maybe it’s because you’re a woman and they’re all men, or maybe because you’ve always been the youngest, they've known you since you were much younger. Or maybe it’s the fact that they’ve never seen you crack, never once seen you break down when they all have at one point or another. After all these years, when they themselves had crumbled, you always seemed to keep it together. You always did. First... they admired how strong you were—physically, emotionally, mentally—and even envied it at times but as time went on, they started to realise something.

The empty look in your eyes—it's haunting. They all knew what you did for them, what you'd sacrificed.

Ji-ho pats Seo-jun’s shoulder, his face mixed with understanding and exhaustion. He points his head toward the door, a silent suggestion to let you have your space.

You stepped inside the massive military tent, the hum of conversations halting as everyone’s gaze turned toward you. You noticed someone even take a hesitant step back, eyes widening.

"I'm not fucking bitten," You didn't pause to explain further. You couldn’t. Instead, you kept walking, ignoring the stares, the whispers that you could practically feel on your skin. You didn't care, walking past the soldiers, the stares heavy on your back. You made your way to your assigned makeshift door, pulling it open and stepping inside.

The small room felt like the only place you could breathe. The bathroom was the next thing you could think of.

Once inside, you slumped onto the cold, unforgiving floor. Your face landed near the toilet, and before you brace yourself, your stomach churned. The contents from your day—what little you had managed to eat—came up violently. It kept going, feeling your body betray you as your throat burned, as your muscles contracted in spasms. The bile, bitter taste, nausea kept pushing until your stomach was empty and you felt nothing but raw, aching emptiness.

You dry your mouth with the back of your filthy hand, smell of blood still lingering in your nostrils. The memory of it—of what you'd seen, what you just did—threatened to send you over the edge again. You fought the urge to gag.

You knew it wasn’t something Seo-jun should be explaining for. He called you earlier, sounding like he wanted to apologize, wanted to make sure you were okay. But you didn’t want to tell him everything was fine. Because it wasn’t. It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t know what was waiting for you inside that damned place. He didn’t know the hundreds of the dead you'd have to face. He tried his best too, just like you did. But none of that mattered.

Killing is easy. You had convinced yourself that—it was something you could do without blinking now. Maybe you could even kill with the same ease as walking a dog in the park, that it could become second nature.

You killed someone who had just started to make you wonder—what question they would be asking you after the mission. Something small, something so... human. With your own hands. No real reason. No justification. For the sake of getting equipment. You killed him.

It wasn’t supposed to feel like this.

With effort, you flushed the toilet, then let your body slide back to the nearest wall. Once it was done, you let yourself slump back against the nearest wall, Your fingers digging into your face as if you could erase the last few hours just by pressing hard enough. Sweat, cold and clammy, trickled down your forehead.

"Y/N," came a voice from outside the door.

Captain Joon. You didn't respond. You didn’t even move. "Rest," he said, his voice softer than usual, "You're needed for another mission after a couple of hours. Rest, fix yourself, and take a bath."

"Did you just take a bath?" Taehyun asked, seeing Beomgyu’s damp hair, towel draped around his neck, few droplets of water still clinging to his skin.

Beomgyu nodded, not even looking up from the crackers he was munching on.

"Again?"

"You got a problem with that?" Beomgyu’s house slipper flew through the air toward Taehyun’s. It was effortlesly dodged.

"Why are you taking a bath three times a day?"

Beomgyu shrugged, gaze finally lifting to meet Taehyun's. "There's nothing else to do,"

Taehyun paused, small ache in his chest upon the words. Being an idol, he knew well the activities—packed schedules, comebacks, fan events, concerts. It never stopped. Hell, he could not even remember the last time he’d celebrated his birthday with his family.

Beomgyu exhaled sharply, "It's been four days… You think our families are okay out there?"

Every day now was a reminder—waking up to the reality of the virus outbreak, everything at a stop.

"They should be," Taehyun replied, though he didn’t feel as sure as he sounded. "We're the ones stuck here."

Beomgyu didn’t answer, instead shuffling his trash away. Just then, Kai appeared from the bathroom, face slack with disappointment.

"Guys, the water’s stopped."

Yeonjun jumped from his seat, rushing to check the sinks, only to find no water coming out. "Shit."

Beomgyu bit his lip, frustration bubbling inside him. Just when things couldn’t seem to get worse. The isolation, the fear—it was all becoming too much now. It's growing every day. He stood up, ignoring Soobin’s frantic voice as he tried to save whatever little water they had left.

He shut himself in his room, the door clicking softly behind him. His eyes wandered to the small house model his family had made for him—a little reminder of home, something he would look at whenever he needed to feel close to them. He collapsed onto his unmade bed, staring blankly at the white ceiling, his thoughts made up mix of thoughts and scenarios. Maybe there was a miracle out there—something, anything, to change this.

Minutes passed in silence before Beomgyu’s voice broke the stillness. "I hope there’s an angel out there. Someone who’ll come get us… get me. Out here, to a safe place." His heart thudded painfully in his chest—he knew no one would ever hear those words, but he couldn’t help but hope.

You slowly make your way toward the apartment complex, the team had decided to move under the cover of darkness again—it drew fewer infected and lowered the chances of running into trouble. At least that’s what your team hoped for.

The freshly laundered combat uniform felt like it was made for you. The black fabric, almost matte, clung to your body, moving with you as if it were a second skin. Your boots, worn but sturdy, held you grounded. Each step was sure. They gave you that solid grip. On your hips, the twin knives sat, steel blades catching the light with a faint, almost imperceptible gleam. Your hair was pulled back, tight in a high knot. Not a strand is out of place.

The mission was clear: rescue the five A-list boys trapped in this building, ever since the outbreak began.

Hybe, was the one who went to the military for help. They couldn’t exactly say no to them—so here you are, walking into a situation you can’t quite predict.

Six of you, without Beom-seok to secure the vehicle on the road as usual—all armed and ready, step closer to the entrance of the block—though you spot a few infected lingering around, they’re silently dealt with. A knife to the head, no noise, no struggle—just clean and quick.

Your captain’s biggest worry is the location. The middle of the city. So many people in such a small space can only mean one thing—too many infected. It’s a risk, but it’s the job. That is exactly why these people are stuck here in the first place. No help has been able to get through until your team was sent in.

"It's here," Eun-woo says, pointing toward the stairs in the corner. He folds the marked map and tucks it away. Captain Joon nods, "One by one. Be aware of your surroundings."

Everyone gives a tight nod, moving quickly to follow his instructions. You scanned every corner, every shadow. You don’t miss a thing. There are a few infected nearby, but they have not noticed you. So long as they don’t see or hear, and you’re far enough, you’ll be fine.

Earlier, it was also clear that most of the infected in this area are concentrated in the outer courtyard. It looks like the people who lived here panicked, tried to escape out there, drawing all the infected away from the apartment complex itself. It’s eerily quiet now, almost too quiet.

You reach the door to apartment 304, and the rest of your team spreads out, covering all sides of the hallway. You catch your breath, scanning both directions again, alert to any movement. Someone begins to knock on the door. Minutes tick by, but there’s no answer.

"Are they fucking asleep?" Ji-ho whispers, his voice sharp with impatience.

"What do you expect?" you snap,"You think they’re awake at this hour, just waiting for us to show up?" The words feel bitter, but you don’t care. "Move,"

Before you can even make a move toward the door, a voice breaks the silence. It's soft, hesitant, almost as if the person speaking is scared to even let the words out.

"Who’re you?"

Kai had been just about to head to the bathroom for a quick piss when he heard it—an soft rattle against the door.

It’s been days, days, since there was any sound from the other side. Complete silence. So hearing something now, especially in the dead of night, made his blood run cold.

Someone’s trying to break in?

He freezes, mind racing. Slowly, he walks towards the door, arms out in front of him, keeping a little distance like it might somehow help. His breath is shallow as he inches closer to the small peephole in the door, just enough to get a glimpse.

Soobin made him promise not to go near the door, but he won’t know. He’s asleep, anyway.

There are people out there. No, not just people—soldiers? At least three men and a woman, he's not really sure, but they're standing and staring straight at their door. He can’t make out their words, sound too muffled, but he can tell they’re muttering something under their breath, heads tilted as if they’re listening too.

Woah. She’s… really pretty.

Kai immediately shakes his head. Focus. Now is not the time to be thinking about how pretty she is. She’s out there, trying to break the door down. Or… is she?

What if they’re the ones sent to rescue us?

He squints through the crack in the door again, taking in the soldiers’ uniforms. They’re military. That has to mean something—and waking the others would take too long. He swallows hard, asking the question.

"Who’re you?"

"Open the door," Captain Joon says, his voice firm and immediate. "We've come to help you." There’s no reply from the other side.

"Manager Jisoo. Hybe."

There’s a sound of the lock turning, and the door creaks open just a crack. It’s dim inside. The air inside hits you. Smells faintly of candles—probably because there’s no electricity to rely on anymore. One by one, everyone got ready to move inside. You turned your head slightly, trying to catch a glimpse of the person who had opened it.

He looked young—his skin pale and features sharp, with a foreign look. His bangs messily hung over his eyes, longer than he probably intended. Your eyes met his, and just as quickly, he looked away. Great. You all must have really scared him—heavily armed, arriving at his dorm in the dead of night.

"We're all coming in, Son," Captain Joon said, gaze flicking to the boy’s face, silently asking for permission—though he did not really need it. You were here to rescue them, to bring everyone back. Whether they were ready or not, you were going in. "What's your name?"

He nodded and opened the door wider. "Heuningkai. Kai is fine."

"How many of you are still in here?"

"Five. Uh, I’ll need to wake everyone up first."

"Go on." You took in the space they had been holed up in. Everything screamed lived in. Floors wooden tiles. It was clean, considering men were living in this place. Some sweaters were carelessly tossed over the couch, an Uno card sat beside it, random orange peels and a few glass mugs were scattered across the table. But aside from that, everything seemed… orderly. Something about this space made you feel out of place.

"Could you please wait here?" Kai stopped after taking a few steps away from your team. The front door shut behind. You glanced at him as he spoke, and you saw it—his face.

It was almost like he was afraid that if he turned around, everyone would just... leave.

He didn’t give anyone a chance to respond. Without another word, he turned and headed for the nearest door. You took in the hallway—six doors in total. One of them was probably the bathroom, and the rest, you guessed, must be their rooms.

Kai walks in, still feeling the embarrassment creeping up his neck. He did not mean to pout or sound so desperate in front of everyone—it just kind of happened.

The whole outbreak had him on edge all the time. It wasn’t like him at all. But now, for the first time in a while, he's starting to see hope. And with that came a fear he hadn’t expected.

He shuts the door behind him, eyes flick to Soobin, who’s sprawled out on the bed in his usual weird sleeping position. One arm thrown over his face, legs tangled in the sheets like he’s trying to escape them.

If anything, it’s comforting to see Soobin still so… Soobin.

"Wake up," Kai says, giving Soobin’s arm a little shake. There’s no response. "Soobin,"

He just mumbles something unintelligible and stays still. With a sigh, Kai slaps the flesh of Soobin's thigh—a trick he’s learned always works when he's in deep sleep.

"Shi—Kai?" The latter groans, blinking his eyes open. He winces slightly, almost about to curse, but then he notices the younger one standing there, looking a little shaken, and his protective instinct kicks in. "What happened? Are you okay?"

"They’re here. They—the help. They’re outside. I let them in." The older man shot up, his mind struggling to shake off the remnants of sleep. For days, he'd been waiting for this moment, but now that it was here, he could hardly believe it.

Soobin looked at Kai’s face, searching for any sign of bluffness. None.

"Wake everyone up, Kai. I’ll, I'll talk to them. Good job," he said, his voice thick with a mix of urgency and something else—nervousness, maybe. He ran a hand through his messy hair, trying to steady his racing heart.

The younger gave a quick nod, already rising to carry out the task.

Soobin hesitated for a moment, then followed, his feet heavier than usual. When he stepped out of his room, the sight hit him. Soldiers.

All dressed in black, standing almost stiffly in the cramped living room, as if they did not know where to place themselves, presence filling every corner. They looked out of place—one man was sitting, looking collected. He was much older—maybe in his late 40s—and when he saw Soobin, he stood up too, moving with authority.

"Hello," Soobin said, bowing deeply. He wished his voice to be normal, but it cracked. His eyes stung, and he blinked, trying to hold back the tears likely to spill. These people—they look so capable.

How desperately he’d needed them.

"I know it's late, but we need to move now. It’ll make things easier for us," Captain Joon started.

Everyone had gathered in the living room now—eleven people, all listening. A large map was spread out on the table in front of them, marked with lines and notes. "We’ve got a cargo truck on standby, and someone guarding it. Waiting for us,"

You leaned against the wall at the back, trying to stay out of the way. Your long gun resting to your right side. You crossed your arms, observing them all, taking in the scene. These five—when they first arrived, you’d seen it clearly: that fleeting, unguarded emotion that flashed across their faces. Relief? Fear?

Your thoughts drifted for a moment, the hum of voices fading, when suddenly you caught something. One of them was looking at you. You met his gaze, and for a second, neither of you moved. His eyes were a soft brown, almost warm, framed by dark hair that was swept back but still fell messily across his forehead. His jaw was sharp, yet there was something almost delicate about it. Something… soft.

You raised an eyebrow at him, just a slight challenge, and he blinked, startled. He bowed his head in your direction awkwardly—before you could return it, his eyes darted away quickly. Followed by a deep shade of red that crept into the tips of his ears.

He didn’t look back at you again—as though he couldn’t look at you a second longer.

Little did you know, when you weren’t paying attention, his eyes would steal a few more glances in your direction, each one shorter, but no less curious.

"We'll travel this way, and you all will be dropped off here at this camp, as requested. Understand?"

"And, we can just bring a backpack each?" Soobin asks, looking around the group. He’d introduced himself as the leader earlier.

"That doesn't mean you can just throw anything in there," you replied, finally speaking up, giving your first words tonight. "Keep it light. Only pack what you really need." Captain Joon gave a slight nod, acknowledging your point.

"Got it,"

"While we're at it," Captain Joon continued, “since we’ll be traveling together, it’s probably best you get to know the people you’ll be with. Just in case something goes wrong.” The mention of anything happening seemed to linger in the air. The five of them had never seen an infected before. You all know that can cause problems.

"As you probably already know, I'm the Captain of this team," Joon said, he shot a quick glance at you before going on.

"Park Y/N," he nodded in your direction, "our engineer sergeant. She’s the one who builds stuff, blows stuff up—whatever needs doing, really. She's my second-in-command."

Beomgyu has a valid reason to look at you now. And when he thought he never be more mesmerized, somehow, he was.

Earlier, when he first stumbled out of bed and woken by Kai, he wandered into the living room, still half-dazed. He was caught off guard on how… beautiful you were. He’d seen soldiers, sure, but you? You were different. You looked like you belonged on a magazine cover—not out here, in the middle of a hellscape.

How are you, not a celebrity? he wonders, half-wanting to slap himself. How are you so beautiful, standing here, in the middle of this nightmare? The strangest thing, though, was the pull in his chest—even though he’d only just learned your name. Even your name—sounds pretty.

"Do-hyun," Joon said, pointing to a man near you, "he's in charge of our comms—makes sure we stay connected. Keeps the radios running, that sort of thing." Do-hyun gave a lazy salute, a smirk playing on his lips.

"That’s Eun-woo and Ji-ho," Joon went on, pointing to two others standing with confidence. "They’re our weapons experts—know every damn thing about fixing, maintaining, and using all our weapons. They also take inventory, make sure we’re stocked up when we need to move out."

"And then there's Seo-jun," Joon said, nodding toward a tall, figure standing slightly apart from the rest like you. "Does the planning, the strategizing. And last but not least, Beom-seok. He’s the one left behind—our medic.”

"You can pack now. We'll wait here. We’ve got food rations on the truck, so you can eat there." Captain Joon finally ends the conversation.

The five of them stand up and start making their way to their rooms.

Beomgyu exhales a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding. The air feels lighter as he steps into his room. They're finally getting out here.

He stands in front of his closet for a few seconds, unsure of what to grab first. He picks up his backpack and starts shuffling through his things—some clothes, and his hygiene kit that Taehyun had already packed for him. He opens his drawer and realizes he’ll need to change out of his pajamas. A plain shirt, some cargo pants, his jacket… and where the hell are his boots? Before he can finish, he hears the door creak open.

"Beomgyu," Yeonjun’s says. "That chick’s really cute."

Beomgyu freezes, his hand mid-reach for his shoes. He blinks and turns to face Yeonjun. "Have you packed your stuff, or do you think we’ve got all the time in the world?"

Yeonjun raises an eyebrow, looking slightly taken aback. "Geez, chill. Why are you being so mad?"

Beomgyu hesitates. He doesn’t really know. It could be the way Yeonjun had interrupted his packing, or maybe… maybe it’s because Yeonjun’s casually saying something like that. Beomgyu feels something twist in his stomach.

Yeonjun thinks you’re pretty. He doesn’t know how to deal with that.

"'M sorry,"

Yeonjun watches him closely. "Was it because of what I said—"

"No."

A knock sounds on the door. Both of them turn toward it. Eun-woo peeks his head inside, his expression casual. "We're just waiting for the two of you, and then we're off."

"Let's go,"

The only sound is the steady rhythm of feet against the ground. Your team is spread out, moving in a loose pattern. Captain Joon, Seo-jun, and Ji-ho take the lead, scanning the surroundings. Soobin and Kai walk close behind, hand in hand. Taehyun and Beomgyu follow next, then Yeonjun.

You, along with Do-hyun and Eun-woo, bring up the rear. It’s all going smoothly. You’re alert, watching the others, everything seems calm—until you notice Yeonjun. He’s suddenly still, his body frozen in place. You glance over and follow his line of sight.

In the open space ahead, a small group of infected wander aimlessly. Movements are jerky, unnatural, and the growls that escape their throats are low and guttural. One of them is lying on the ground, its torso half severed, intestine out, but its arms are still twitching, dragging itself forward in a grotesque imitation of life.

Yeonjun’s breathing stops entirely, his chest barely rising and falling. He’s staring at them, wide-eyed, body tense. You step up and place a hand on his shoulder. The touch makes him flinch.

"Shhh," you whisper, barely audible. The last thing you need right now is anyone making noise. One sound, one slip-up, and the infected will be on you. "Move. Eyes front—Don't… do not look at them."

He does not respond at first, you’re not even sure if he’s even hearing you. His eyes check the infected again, then back to the ground. He swallows. Finally, he nods, voice tight, "Yeah."

You give him a push on the back, enough to get him moving. It was a relief to see Yeonjun walking. You exhaled slowly, locking eyes with Do-hyun. He'd seen it all. That look between you two was enough to say it all: they weren’t ready for this. They hadn’t been told nearly enough.

Everyone kept walking, the building’s echoing silence wrapping around you as you neared the first level. It wasn’t far now—just out the main door, across the block, and then Beom-seok would be waiting for you on the road. The end was in sight.

"Shit!" Soobin’s voice is loud, his hands pressed against his chest in surprise. He hadn’t expected it. A woman, infected, eyes wide open, slumped lifelessly in a chair in the lobby. Her body was barely recognizable, rotting, the decay setting in.

No one moved. You spun around, doubt kicking in, scanning the lobby for any movement. Kai gripped Soobin’s hand tighter, his fingers digging in just enough. Soobin looked at him—a silent apology, a promise to do better.

It was only a minute, before Captain Joon finally moved. You stepped out of the building, the fresh air hitting you in a way that almost felt too good. The five newcomers, still adjusting to the chaos, kept their gazes fixed ahead, careful not to glance at the herd gathering in the open space nearby.

Then you saw him—Beom-seok. Leaning against the tires on the road, his eyes sweeping the distance, waiting. "Took you long enough," Beom-seok mutters, his eyes looking at you as he watches you approach.

One by one, everyone began climbing into the truck. Ji-ho caught your eye, giving you a quick signal to get in.

"Yeah? Are you bored or something?" Seo-jun shoots back, his tone teasing.

You gripped Ji-ho's hand, pulling yourself up the tall cargo bed. You paused, glancing down at Taehyun and offering your hand. He grasped it firmly, and with one smooth pull, you helped him up. He meets your gaze and gives a nod, a thank you.

Beomgyu was next, and Ji-ho was beside you, helping Yeonjun up. Kai and Soobin were already settled inside chatting quietly, and the truck was starting to feel a little more like a secure place.

You let your hand fall, but it only took a second for Beomgyu to extend his own.

Soft. Warm. It feels different somehow.

Beomgyu feels your hand—still shielded by your tactical gloves, but with the fingertips exposed. Even through the fabric, he can feel the warmth of your skin. It’s subtle, and for some reason, it’s enough to make his heart beat a little faster. You gripped his hand, pulling him up with the same ease as you did with Taehyun.

He’s finally out—the one they’d been stuck in, waiting, starving. Water was running low, food was practically gone and no electricity. It’s been days. Time blurred together in there. He’d tried his hardest not to let his emotions spill over, even when his mind kept replaying all the times he’d imagined getting out. All the moments he’d prayed for this. And now, it’s real.

He's here.

"Thank you," Beomgyu whispers, he hopes that somehow, those two words are enough for you to know.

"Sure,"

Beomgyu smiles wider as the fresh scent of grass hits his face. It’s a smell he never thought he’d miss, now it feels like a luxury—something he never realized how much he took for granted until now.

He turns his head to look at you, he feels his heart settle. Your head slightly leaned back against the rail, eyes closed in peaceful sleep. He fights the urge to nudge the soldier sitting next to you and tell him to move so you can rest your head somewhere more comfortable. He notices a shift in your face. Your brows furrow—a small frown begins to start on your forehead. Beomgyu's smile fade. The sight of you looking troubled, unsettles him for some reason.

Then, with no warning, the vehicle comes to a sudden halt, throwing everyone forward. It awakes you, and your eyes snap open, hands reaching for your gun.

"What now?" Eun-woo asks, stepping toward the window that connects to the driver's area, his voice tight with concern. You follow his gaze and your stomach drops. A fire. A huge fire, raging up ahead. And it looks like it's right where your team was supposed to drop off.

Yeonjun holds his nose at the smell of burning, smoke.

"Didn’t you radio them, Do-hyun?"

"I did, before we started heading back, Captain," You start mentally counting the minutes—five people eating, the time it took to pack up, and the drive back. It couldn’t have been more than two hours.

Two hours, and the fire’s already this big. "What happens now?" You hear Kai ask himself.

You don't have to look for long to spot them. Infected. They’re coming toward your truck—more than you can count. A mass of tumbling bodies, moving fast.

"Captain!" you shout, your voice sharp. "They are coming. Too many of them." Your words startle everyone in the truck.

Beom-seok’s hands twitch on the steering wheel, nerves on edge as he maneuvers the truck. His mind races, unsure of the next move. Where the hell should we go?

"Head for the nearest camp," Captain Joon orders, "Do-hyun, can you get through to them?"

"I'm trying," Do-hyun responds, fingers moving over the radio—silence greets him in return. The truck moves, and all of you watch the infected, filling the road behind.

Beomgyu watches the infected, slow, stumbling figures moving toward the vehicle. He knows they wont catch up—he knows they cant outrun it—still, his stomach churns.

"Are you okay?" Soobin asks, voice soft. He saw Beomgyu’s face when he locked eyes with the dead. "Try not to look at them," he suggests. It’s what Soobin does—keep his eyes away.

Beomgyu gives a shrug. "Isn’t avoiding them just going to make it worse?" he says, eyes still glued to the decaying figures. "I mean, I would like to be able to look at them without feeling like I’m about to throw up."

Soobin sighs, "We are getting out of here. Hybe did not let these people get us just to leave us hanging. There’s gotta be a place somewhere. Maybe we’ll even be able to go home, see our families again."

Beomgyu’s throat tightens at the mention of family, he swallows the feeling down. "What if we don’t, though?" he murmurs, "You saw the fire at the camp we were supposed to be at. Do you really think we’d have made it out? If we got there earlier…. do your really think we would have survived?"

Soobin’s heart clench at the question, he can't bring himself to answer. He does not want to think about it, but he knows Beomgyu’s right. Everything had seemed okay—until that overrun camp. The silence stretches, loud with unspoken fears.

Beomgyu’s hand starts picking at his nails, his gaze unfocused. "What if there’s no safe place left?" His voice cracks,trying his hardest not to think about his family.

"Stop." It’s you. You had been close enough to hear their whispers. "I’ll let you know if there’s no place anymore. Until I do, don’t think about it."

Beomgyu looks up at you, meeting your eyes for a moment. And just like that, the heaviness inside him lifts—just a little.

The vehicle comes to a halt by the side of the road, dust kicking up as the engine sputters off. Captain Joon looks ahead, eyes narrowing at the said camp he has in mind. It’s about a ten-minute walk from here.

"Still no response, Captain," Do-hyun reports, his fingers pressing anxiously on the radio. "Should I try reaching out to other units? They're farther out, but I can give it a shot."

Captain Joon does not look at him, eyes fixed ahead. "You can do that later. For now, we need to check this site first." He pauses, "It’s not wise for all of us to go. These five civilians stay here with a couple of you, the rest of us will move out."

Beomgyu catches the glint of your fingers as you reach for your gun, checking the magazine, clicking it back and then tightening your boot laces. There's no need for more words. The message is clear. You're going out, you're checking the place. You’re not going to sit around and wait.

"Y/N," Captain Joon calls out as you start climbing down from the cargo bed.

“I’m going with you,” you say, already strapping your gun across your shoulder. Without waiting for a response, you take a few long strides,, scanning the fields around you. The tall grass sways gently in the breeze. A few of the soldiers start following suit—Eun-woo, Ji-ho, and you catch the sound of their boots as they move behind you.

Captain Joon strides past, and you follow him, your boots crunching against the dry earth.

Beomgyu watches, his eyes never leaving your form as you move further into the distance. He can hear Yeonjun’s sigh beside him, but it did not make him look away. Instead, he counts under his breath, doing everything he can to keep you in sight until you’re too far to see.

The truck was quiet, the minutes stretching on as the remaining soldiers outside paced back and forth, keeping watch.

“I’m worried about Hiyyih,” Kai said suddenly, breaking the silence. His words drew the attention of the older guys around him, all seated close by.

“Do you think she got rescued too?” Kai asked, voice quieter now. “Or maybe…she made it out to Seoul when everything went like this?”

Taehyun reached over, giving the youngest's head a soft pat. “She is okay, Kai,” he said, “Once we get to the camp, we can ask the Captain,”

“Yeah,”

“Stop stressing about it, though,” Yeonjun chimed in, “We will figure it out soon enough.” Soobin stayed quiet, gaze fixed on some distant thought.

“They’re back,” Beomgyu said, his gaze darting between the road and the distant figures coming into view. He kept watching, squinting to make out their shapes as they got closer. Minutes passed, and the faces became clear: Captain Joon, two other soldiers… and you.

“They’re fewer than we expected,” Captain Joon announced as he reached the group, his voice steady but grim. “The camp’s still standing. We’ll spend the night there and wait for further instructions.” His words weighed heavy in the air. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to stay composed.

When you entered the place, the sight was sobering. Just over half a dozen soldiers were left. The others, you were told, had been sent out on missions—and none of their teams had returned. You shook the thoughts away, chalking it up to exhaustion. Fatigue was setting in, and all you wanted was a shower and some sleep. For now, this camp would have to do.

Adjusting the straps of your backpack, you glanced around and saw everyone gathering their belongings. You opened your gun case and checked the magazines, counting each one carefully. “We’ll need to do inventory soon,” you muttered, mostly to yourself.

Beomgyu caught your words and looked over, his eyes flicking from your face to the black case cradling the weapons.

Arriving at the camp on foot felt like walking into a ghost town. The only sign of life was… the small group of soldiers waiting, their tired eyes, makes the place feel even emptier. Captain Joon started barking orders, assigning tents to everyone. Your mind was fixed on one thing: rest.

“I’m going to shower and sleep. Wake me if I’m needed,” you told the captain, walking past him as he gave you a quick nod.

You headed to your tent, overhearing the arrangements for the five civilians. They’d be taking turns in the showers, then each also having a small tent of their own. Your own shelter was small, just as you’d expected. You set your things down, pulling out what you needed for the shower.

The shower area was sectioned off with a heavy curtain, its edges swaying slightly in the breeze. You pushed it aside and stepped in, letting the cool water wash over you. The sensation of the water running down your back. After finishing your routine, you reached for a towel and your robe. Once you’d changed into a clean military shirt and loose pants, you stepped outside, your hair still damp.

The camp was quiet, save for the crackle of a small fire in the center. A few soldiers sat around it—Yeonjun was eating, with Beomgyu and Taehyun seated beside him. Soobin, walking toward them, caught your gaze and gave you a respectful bow. Kai was likely in the showers, taking his turn.

Back at your tent, you dried your hair—hitting the makeshift pillow, your eyes drifted shut. It was harder to sleep that night.

Beomgyu jolted awake to the sharp crack of a gunshot. His chest tightened as he gasped, sitting up abruptly in the darkness.

BANG.

Another shot echoed through the camp, louder this time. He instinctively covered his ears, his heart pounding in his chest. The sound was close—too close. A flurry of gunfire followed, chaotic and all over the place. He froze as a shadow darted past the thin walls of his tent. His hands trembled as he forced himself to stand.

He fumbled for his pants, pulling them on as another scream tore through the night, quickly silenced by another gunshot. His mind raced. Should he go outside? Should he stay hidden?

Soobin. Yeonjun. Taehyun. Kai.

You.

The names rang in his head snapped him. He peeked through a small gap in the tent’s fabric, his breath hitching at the sight outside. Strangers—men he hadn’t seen earlier—moved through the camp. One of them hefted a sack of supplies over his shoulder, while others fired wildly at the soldiers.

Bandits?

The realization hit hard. These men were fighting the soldiers stationed at the camp, gunfire exchanged in rapid bursts. Beomgyu swallowed hard. His tent was further out than the others, which gave him a sliver of cover, but he knew he had to move. As he stepped out of his tent, a bullet zipped past him, close enough to feel the air shift against his cheek. He flinched, his heart hammering in his chest.

“What the—”

A scream drew his attention. A bandit, snarling and swinging his weapon, was overwhelmed by an infected lunging at him from the side. The sight froze Beomgyu in place, fear rooting him to the spot.

A hand clamped over his mouth, silencing the scream that threatened to escape. He turned sharply, eyes wide, only to see you staring back at him.

“We’re leaving. Or we’re dead,” you whispered, your voice urgent but low. Beomgyu hesitated, glancing toward the other tents. He wanted to go to the others, to check if they were okay, but you tightened your grip on his wrist, stopping him.

“They will see you,” you hissed. Behind you, the infected were starting to swarm the camp, drawn by the gunfire. Beomgyu felt a lump rise in his throat. Your hand dropped from his mouth, and you tugged on his wrist, shoving him back toward his tent. “Grab your things. Be fast.”

Beomgyu stumbled inside, adrenaline coursing through him as he grabbed his backpack. He hadn’t even unpacked yet, telling himself earlier he’d do it in the morning. Now, it didn’t matter. There wasn’t going to be a morning if he stayed.

When he stepped back out, you were watching the bandits, your jaw clenched. He noticed your backpack already slung over your shoulder. The white shirt you’d worn earlier was still visible beneath a hastily thrown-on jacket, paired with cargo pants and sturdy boots.

“Come on,” You started moving, weaving through the shadows with practiced steps. Beomgyu followed—heart heavy and torn as he glanced back toward the other tents.

His four brothers weren’t with him.

Beomgyu’s feet ached with every step. He had been trailing behind you for what felt like hours, though it couldn’t have been more than fifty minutes. Your strides were quick, far faster than he could have imagined for someone with shorter legs than his. He had no idea where you were leading him, and the darkness of the woods only made it worse.

Shadows stretched long between the trees, and every crackle of leaves underfoot made his heart jump. But then you turned back to look at him, your face briefly influenced by the moon's light—it was just a quick check to make sure he was still behind—and somehow that was enough to keep him moving.

Finally, you stopped in front of a towering tree. Its trunk was wide and strong, the kind that seemed to have stood for centuries. You tilted your head up to inspect it, then turned back to him. “This will do. We’ll climb up here,”

Beomgyu blinked, his gaze sweeping nervously between you and the tree. Climbing? He had never climbed a tree before—not even as a kid. But the alternative—staying on the ground, exposed to the infected, or people that might be lurking—was far worse.

“O-okay,” The two of you did not know where you were going—or how far you still had to go—but at least up here, you could catch your breath. He watched as you point toward the bark, signaling for him to go first.

“Here,” you said, tapping a sturdy-looking notch just above your reach. “Put your foot here.”

“You sure it’ll hold?”

“It will, trust me.”

Beomgyu swallowed hard and placed his foot on the notch. It felt solid, but the uneven texture of the bark made him wobble slightly. He grabbed the trunk for balance, his fingers scraping against the rough surface. “Here, grab this branch,” you guided him, pointing to a solid-looking limb.

The bark was rough, but he held on, his muscles trembling. The tree swayed just a little under his weight, the rustling leaves made him think that the whole thing might give way. But it didn’t. With a grunt, he hoisted himself, settling into a spot that felt stable enough to hold him. The height gave him an odd sense of relief—He looked down at you, his fear replaced by a grin.

“This is so cool,” The horrors of the night melted away. You smirked, shaking your head as you reached for the first branch, beginning your own ascent. Beomgyu’s gaze stayed on you, his hands hovering slightly as if wanting to help but unsure how.

When you were nearly at his level, reaching for a branch to pull yourself up, the wood suddenly gave way with a sharp crack. Making you slip. “Shit!” Beomgyu lunged toward you, his hands finding your elbow just in time. “I-I—What do I do?!”

“Can you not panic like you’re the one about to fall?” you snapped, though your voice lacked real bite.

“Right!” he stammered, his grip tightening. You grasped his other outstretched arm, and with one strong pull, he managed to haul you up. The force of it sent you toppling forward, landing squarely against him. For a second, everything went still. Beomgyu’s breath hitched as he looked up at you, your face inches from his.

You could feel the warmth of his body against your chest, see the subtle freckles and barely-there moles on his skin that you hadn’t noticed before. His gaze flickered to your lips.

In a swift motion, you pushed yourself off him—brushing the dust and bits of bark from your clothes, you avoided his eyes. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak just yet.

An hour had passed since the two of you settled. Your back leaned towards the tree and for a brief moment, you let your eyes close, though your mind raced.

Plans. Risks. Next steps.

“What’s the next plan?”

You opened your eyes, exhaling softly. “I’m planning to check back at the camp once the sun’s up,” you said after a moment. “From a distance. The infected were drawn to the gunfire, so I doubt they’ll stay there. But I need to see what’s left.”

Beomgyu nodded, “We should see if there’s anyone still there. Maybe stuck or hiding.”

You glanced at him and adjusted the rifle slung across your chest. The weight of the handgun in your pocket and the knives strapped to your thighs felt heavier.

“We’ll try to track them too,” you said, then added quietly, “Or you could stay here and wait for me.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“Okay.”

Silence fell between you again, interrupted only by the faint rustle of leaves. Beomgyu broke it with a sudden thought. “I can’t believe people can kill each other just like that,” he said, voice with disbelief.

The words made you pause. Your eyes, previously shut, opened fully, and you turned your head slightly toward him. But you said nothing. “Why did they do that?” Beomgyu asked, his tone softer now.

You didn’t respond. Instead, you looked away, avoiding his gaze. His eyes—they were too brown, too soft for a world like this. When the silence stretched too long, he shifted uncomfortably, his ears flushing red. “I… I wanna thank you. For bringing me with you,” he said, shyly. “Thank you, Y/N.”

“Sleep,” you said, brushing his gratitude aside. “I’ll keep watch.”

“I do think I can,” he admitted, rubbing his neck. "I swear I can still hear the gunshots in my ears.” You sighed. Sleep wasn’t an option for you either.

Beomgyu hesitated before speaking again. “Can I ask you something?”

“You already did,”

His face flushed deeper. “I mean… another question.”

When you didn’t respond, he continued, “Why are you the only woman in your team?”

Your eyes flicked to him, one brow raising slightly. “Are you implying there shouldn’t be one?”

“No! God, no,” he said quickly, his hands flailing slightly as he stumbled over his words. “I mean, it’s just—wow. It’s amazing.”

“That a woman can do a man’s job?”

“No—yes—no!” Beomgyu groaned, burying his face in his hands. “I just mean, like… it’s impressive. Especially since women aren’t even required to go through military service. But here you are, and you’re killing it—uh, not literally—well, maybe literally, but—”

You studied his flustered face for a moment before cutting him off, “I get it,” you said, watching as relief washed over him. “I think I was just… born for this. I can’t imagine myself doing anything else.”

“That’s… cool,” he murmured, nodding slowly. You hummed, leaning your head back against the tree.

“I don’t think I can imagine myself doing anything else either,” Beomgyu said, thoughtful. He stared at his hands, a small smile tugging at his lips. You watched him for a second longer than you meant to.

“That’s cool,” you echoed his words, earning a laugh from him. His smile widened, his laugh soft but real, and it lit up the darkness around you. Even his laugh—

It made you look away, your chest tightening. His smile—it was dangerous.

Beomgyu turned his gaze to you, studying your profile. The way your lashes caught the faint moonlight. Beautiful, he thought.

“How old were you when you joined the military?” he asked, randomly. Your expression froze, startled by the question.

“What?”

“I mean, if it’s okay to ask,” he said, tilting his head slightly, his tone careful. “You don’t have to—”

You swallowed hard, a lump forming in your throat. That question—it wasn’t one you wanted to answer again. Not now. Not ever.

“Close your eyes and rest,” you said flatly, “We’re done talking. The dead might hear us.”

The other one's face fell.

The sunlight was warm against Beomgyu's face, pulling him from his sleep. He blinked a few times, squinting at the brightness, trying to shake off his muzzy state.

"Hey, sleeping beauty." You say, "If you want to come, we need to go. Now."

He turned to see you already packing up, tossing a protein bar his way without looking. He barely caught it, fumbling it in his hands before managing a weak, “Thanks.”

"Let's go." You unscrewed your water bottle and took a quick drink before slinging your gear over your shoulder. Without waiting for him to respond, you started climbing down from the tree. Beomgyu followed, the descent easier than the nerve-wracking climb up last night, his legs still felt stiff from the awkward position he’d slept in. His feet hit the forest floor, and he took a deep breath. The woods in daylight were almost beautiful painting everything in shades of green.

He yawned, unwrapping his protein bar as he fell into step behind you. The two of you walked in silence, his eyes wandering over the scenery. It was hard to reconcile how peaceful the forest looked with the gnawing fear in his gut. About twenty minutes in, you suddenly stopped, your hand shooting up in a signal. Beomgyu, distracted, nearly walked into you.

“Infected,”

He followed your line of sight and spotted it—a man-shaped figure stumbling through the trees, its feet dragging awkwardly. The distance between you and it was still considerable.

Beomgyu glanced at you, his eyes wide. “How did you even see that?” he whispered. “I wouldn’t have noticed it until it was right in front of us.”

You ignored the question, “You haven't done this yet, so now’s the time to learn.”

Now, the words struck him awake. He’d known this was coming—he wasn’t naive—but he hadn’t expected it to be now. “Are you sure? Shouldn’t we find, I don’t know, somewhere more open for this?” He couldn’t help the nervous edge in his voice. Just weeks ago, his biggest challenge was memorizing their group's choreography.

“This is the perfect place to practice,” you said, not bothering to look at him.

He hesitated, shifting on his feet. “I mean, I’m not scared or anything, but—”

“Scared?” you interrupted, finally turning to him with a raised eyebrow.

“No. Let’s just get it over with.”

You nodded, pulling a knife from your belt and handing it to him. The weight of it in his hand felt foreign. He stared at the blade, the black handle smooth, well maintained. His eyes caught the faint etching of your name on it.

“Grip it like this,” you said, adjusting his grip. Your hands were firm, guiding his fingers into place. “Keep your thumb here for control. When you strike, aim for the head and use enough force so you don’t have to do it twice.”

He nodded, his throat dry. "Go in when I say.”

The infected was closer now, its groans louder, its movements jerky and unnatural. You gestured for him to move to the left, opposite of where you were going. He obeyed, his steps hesitant.

You moved quickly, drawing its attention. Beomgyu couldn’t take his eyes off you as you circled it without second thoughts or any fear.With a sharp kick, you knocked its legs out from under it. The infected collapsed to its knees, and you pressed your boot into its back, holding it in place. “Come here,”

Beomgyu swallowed hard, the knife trembling in his hand as he approached.

“Kill it,” you instructed, tilting the infected’s head to expose its temple.

His heart pounded as he raised the knife. He brought it down, but his strike lacked strength, and blade only sank halfway in. The infected howled, its hands clawing weakly at the air. “Y/N, I—what do I—”

“Again,” you cut him off, grabbing his other hand and placing it on the knife. “Use both hands if you have to. Pull it out and try again. Harder this time.”

He did as you said, the knife coming free with a sickening squelch. Blood splattered onto his hands, warm and sticky, and he nearly gagged. Clenching his teeth, he raised the blade again and drove it down with all his strength. The groaning stopped, the infected falling silent.

You let the body slump to the ground, standing up as Beomgyu stumbled away, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. He made it to the nearest tree before doubling over, the contents of his stomach spilling onto the forest floor.

Tears pricked at his eyes as he wiped his mouth. That infected—it wasn’t just a monster. It had been a person once, a living, breathing human being. Maybe they had a family waiting for them, a home filled with memories, or a life they’d worked hard to build. Maybe they’d been on a vacation or rushing to work the day the world fell apart.

Beomgyu’s breath hitched—he was the one who ended them, the one who took what little remained of their existence. He never imagined his life would come to this—how could he? Just a month ago, his world had been with roaring crowds, and music that echoed through stadiums. He’d been smiling at cameras, shooting music videos, and waving to fans who looked at him like he was untouchable, someone larger than life.

You crouched next to him, holding out a piece of cloth. He stared at your hand for a moment before taking it —your hands looked smaller than his, fragile—he wipes the blood on his trembling fingers.

How? How could you—manage to do all of this?

“You ended its suffering,” you said quietly, hesitant. “That’s how I try to think of it.”

“Does it get easier?”

“Never.”

It was just a single word, but somehow, it felt like a glimpse—Beomgyu feels closer. It felt like he knew you just a little bit better.

The two of you continued toward the overrun camp, the knife you’d lent Beomgyu still in his hands. For all the danger the weapon symbolized, it seemed to bring him a strange kind of comfort, his grip on it much more familiar.

Another walker crossed your path, Beomgyu stepped forward, more sure of himself this time. With just a little guidance from you, he managed to take it down.

Familiarity.

When you reached the backside of the camp, low growls echoed from ahead. Slowly, you leaned out to peek, careful not to make a sound. About a dozen infected, just as you expected.

And just as you'd predicted, the bandits had left too, leaving nothing behind but destruction. You moved, glancing over your shoulder to check on Beomgyu. He was scanning the area, his movements mirroring yours. That small action made your chest swell with pride.

He's learning. He's trying. And most of all, he's here—for his friends.

Together, you began checking the tents, moving smoothly and silently. Nothing. No survivors. But you found a few supplies—military rations, protein bars, ammo and some guns. Grabbing a duffel bag, you started packing up. Beomgyu helped in without hesitation.

Halfway through the camp, Beomgyu froze. His eyes locked on something ahead. That’s when you saw it too.

BEOMGYU, KAI, WE GOT OUT. WITH THE OTHERS. WE’RE HEADING TO THE JEONJU CAMP. STAY SAFE. SB, YJ, AND TH.

“They got out,” Beomgyu said, his voice breaking the silence. Relief washed over him, lifting some of the weight he’d been carrying. Kai wasn’t with them yet, but this was hope. He would find Kai too. He’d see this message too. “I knew it!”

He spun around to face you, a grin breaking across his face. He pumped his fist in the air, silently cheering as if he’d just hit the jackpot. That boyish smile, dimples and all, made him look so much younger.

And then, he saw it—a faint, fleeting curve of your lips.

His laugh bubbled out, soft and genuine, as he ran toward you, nearly tripping over his own feet in excitement. You're perfect, he thinks, the thought hitting him as naturally as breathing. You try to step back, caught off guard, but it’s too late.

It’s already too late.

“I freaking knew it,” he said, his arms around you warm, his chin resting on the top of your head. You stood frozen, your hands awkwardly at your sides, nodding stiffly.

“I told you,” he whispered. When he finally steps back, his eyes search your face, the smile he’d seen just moments ago is already gone. You look away, avoiding his gaze, and the sudden absence of it—leaves an ache in his chest.

He wants to see it again.

“Let’s wrap this up and circle outside the camp,” you say, pulling the zipper closed on the duffel bag you’d packed full. “We need to check if Kai’s lingering nearby. And we’ll need to secure a vehicle too. We’re in Daejeon—its a long way to Jeonju.”

“Thank you.” Beomgyu’s voice is quiet, and his cheeks flush red as he remembers his earlier outburst—the way he’d hugged you without thinking. Maybe it was the relief from the message, or maybe it was just seeing you smile at him for the first time.

“Why do you think they’re in Jeonju?”

“Probably got a radio response,”

He nods, falling in step behind you as you heft the duffel bag over your shoulder. Beomgyu quickens his pace, catching up to you. He tugs the bag from your hands. “Let me take this,”

The two of you stepped out of the tent, the silence heavy between you. You were nearing the camp’s edge when Beomgyu noticed you slowing down, your steps faltering.

Seo-jun.

His movements were slow, his hands trembling as he stumbled forward. He's looking at you. Seo-jun’s blood-soaked uniform and gaping bite on his neck entered your vision. Gunshot wounds riddled his chest—a soldier’s final stand. He had fought. Hard. For his team. For everyone.

"Y/N?" Beomgyu’s voice broke through the haze, soft but urgent. He noticed that you had stopped, your gaze fixed on the infected figure ahead. He squinted, and his heart sank when he realized it was someone from your team.

Seven years. You had known Seo-jun for seven years. You had planned to make things right with him, to talk, to reconcile. But how could you now? How could you fix things when he was already lost? You tried to blink away the moisture from your eyes.

“Am I ever getting a break?” you muttered to yourself, the words bitter. "Even here, you find a way to mock me, Seo-jun."

Beomgyu could hear the shakiness in your voice, the rawness in the way you spoke. He listens.

You couldn’t leave him like this. Alone in his lifeless form, wandering endlessly. He deserved more than that. “Come on, you shit,” you muttered, your throat tightening as you stepped forward, reaching for your knife. But you froze.

Around his neck, alongside his dog tags, hung another set. Min Ju-won’s. Even at the end, Seo-jun had carried that burden, blaming himself for something you both knew wasn’t his fault. He hadn’t let it go, not even in death.

Beomgyu moved before he could think. He didn't know if it was the look in your eyes or the way your hand trembled, but he knew one thing: he couldn’t let you do this. While Seo-jun was distracted by your figure, Beomgyu raised his weapon. Just as you had taught him hours ago, he aimed for the head.

Seo-jun’s body crumpled to the ground. Beomgyu guided him down gently, almost reverently. From his backpack, Beomgyu pulled an extra jacket. Without a word, he draped it over Seo-jun’s face. It wasn’t much, but it was the only dignity he could offer.

When he stood, his eyes met yours, raw and glistening with emotion.

“Why—” Your voice cracked, unable to finish the question.

“He was your friend,” he said quietly. “I'm not going to let you do that. Not while I’m here.”

Friend.

That single word shattered whatever fragile wall you’d been holding up. A tear slipped down your cheek before you could stop it, and you quickly wiped it away with your hand.

“He’s not suffering anymore,” Beomgyu added softly, his hand gently brushing the top of your head—you avoided his eyes, yet again. “He’s not suffering,”

He bent down to grab the duffel bag he’d dropped earlier, slinging it over one shoulder. Then, he reached out, his hand wrapping around your wrist.

“Let's get out of here.” He pulled you forward.

Beomgyu's hand didn’t leave yours until the two of you were far beyond the camp.

"Hey," you called out to Beomgyu, who was busy checking a nearby car. "This looks fresh—like it hasn’t been here long." He made his way over, and you held out—a baseball, cap.

"Wait," Beomgyu said, eyes widening as he took it. Turning it over in his hands, he inspected it closely. "This… this is Kai’s,"

When you looked at him, a small smile was already spreading across his face, lighting up his features like it always did.

Beomgyu… he was so easily moved by the smallest things. It didn’t take much to make him smile. Or maybe it wasn’t that simple. Maybe it was because he loved his brothers, that even the smallest sign of them was enough to give him something to hold onto.

You dropped your gaze when his eyes met yours and moved toward the next car, pretending. But your thoughts refused to stay put. Here you were again, thinking about him—about his silly antics.

In the past twelve hours, it felt like he’d done nothing but occupy your mind. Every small moment with him clung to you. The way his voice softened when he spoke—The way he’d quietly ask, “You okay?” as if you were the one who needed saving.

After Seo-jun—he hadn’t said a word about it. No awkward condolences, no probing questions. Just silence—the kind you needed. Like he just… knew. No one had ever been like this—this careful, this kind. No one had ever looked at you the way he did, with eyes that were too brown and too full of something you didn’t want to name.

You didn’t like it.

You didn’t like it at all.

“I think Kai’s already ahead of us,” you bit into the bland military ration that was handed to you. “Heading towards Jeonju, if those tracks are anything to go by. He’s smart.”

“He is,” Beomgyu agreed, a small smile at his lips as he stirred the contents of his disposable pack. “He’s the calmest one too.”

“Then I guess we will see him there,” you said with a shrug. “Now all we need to do is find a working car.”

“A manual,”

“Hm.”

“That has gas in it.”

“Figures,” you muttered. “But that’ll be the easier part.”

Silence settled over the two of you again, it had become strangely common. You both ate, focused on the food. Every so often, you’d catch Beomgyu glancing your way, and flashes you his small, boyish grin on his face.

You tossed the empty pack toward a nearby car and wiped your hands on your pants. “It’s getting dark soon,” you said. “We should camp nearby and head out at first light.” Moving at night was usually the smarter option, especially with a vehicle and a full team. But here, now? Just the two of you, on foot, with no guarantee of shelter or backup—it wasn’t worth the risk.

Sticking to the woods was safer. The fewer infected—or people—you encountered, the better. You only ventured onto the road when there was a car worth checking.

In the fading light, a barn came into view. Its doors were wide open, silhouetted against the trees. You signaled Beomgyu to wait outside while you moved to secure the area. Inside, it was clear the owner had left in a hurry, taking most of what mattered. It was empty, save for a few odds and ends no one had cared to take—its enough for a temporary shelter.

“Looks good enough,” you murmured as you stepped back outside. Beomgyu nodded, already starting to unload your supplies. The discovery of a small lake nearby was an unexpected bonus.

“I’m going to wash up,” you said, gathering what you needed and slinging your gun over your shoulder. Beomgyu gave a slight nod, his eyes lingering on you as you walked away.

The water was cold, scouring away the dirt and sweat. You were quick, not wanting to leave Beomgyu alone for long. When you returned, your damp hair clung to your neck, and your skin was clean and slightly chilled.

“Your turn,” He glanced up, eyes flitting over your freshly washed face. His heart thudded hard in his chest. Cute, he thought, forcing himself to look away. Beomgyu nodded, grabbing his things and heading out to the lake. He came back just as fast, hair dripping but visibly refreshed.

You sat side by side on the makeshift bedding, neither of you saying much. Beomgyu’s soft breathing enters your ears—hand rested close enough that you could almost feel its warmth against your skin.

You found your eyes beginning to close with peace you hadn’t realized you were still capable of feeling.

Beomgyu woke up, immediately turning to his left. There you were, curled up on your side, the rise and fall of your chest visible in the dim space. He stared, mesmerized—it was the first time he’d ever seen you asleep. You looked… soft. A side of you he never thought he’d witness.

He shifted. The urge to pee was becoming unbearable. Careful not to wake you, Beomgyu slipped off and crept toward the barn door. The cold air hit him as he stepped outside, wrapping his arms tightly around himself for warmth. He scanned the area just like you’d taught him—ears tuned to every sound. Nothing.

He let out a breath of relief and headed to a nearby tree. Unzipping his pants, he took care of business quickly, the chill urging him to hurry. After he finished and zipped back up, a faint rustling behind him made him stop. Before he could turn, a large, rough hand clamped over his mouth, oppressing his scream. Another arm locked around his neck, pulling him back against a solid chest.

“Shut up if you value your life,” a low, gravelly voice growled against his ear. The man holding him inhaled deeply near his hair, a disgusting, exaggerated sniff. “Freshly washed. You’ve got a place nearby, don’t you?”

Beomgyu’s eyes darted ahead, and his stomach dropped when three more men stepped into view. Each held a weapon—a bat, a knife, and worst, a pistol. The man restraining him gives a rough shake, his breath hot and foul. “Don’t make me ask again. Where’s your camp?”

Beomgyu shook his head violently, panic blooming in his chest. He couldn't—he wouldn't—lead them back to you. The thought of them finding you, sleeping and unaware—this was his fault. He should have been more careful.

The man growled in frustration. “Y' think this is a joke?” he spat, hardening his chokehold. Beomgyu’s throat made a strangled sound as he gasped for air. The man with the knife stepped forward, expression predatory. “Maybe this will help him remember,” he said, pressing the blade against Beomgyu’s cheek. The sharp metal bit into his skin, not enough to draw blood, but enough to make him wince.

“There’s a barn ahead,” the one with the baseball bat said,“Think that’s it?” Beomgyu’s reaction betrayed him—his wide eyes and the flash of fear gave them all the confirmation they needed.

“Yeah,” the man holding him laughed darkly, “that’s it.”

Before Beomgyu could resist, they forced his hands behind his back and bound them tightly, shoving a cloth into his mouth to stifle any protest. He struggled, but it was no use—they yanked him forward, dragging him roughly toward the barn. And he knew exactly where they were taking him. To you.

“Fucking hell,” the man holding Beomgyu growled, his gaze shifting to your sleeping figure inside the barn. A dark grin tugged at his lips. “Is this what you’re so scared of? Afraid we’ll take her away from you?”

Beomgyu thrashed, desperate to scream, to warn you, but the cloth bound tight in his mouth smothered any sound. The group moved closer, one of them stepping forward to push the barn door open. The large, old door creaked. It wasn’t loud, but it was enough to wake you.

Your eyes snapped open, adjusting to the figures looming at the entrance, shadows that didn’t belong. Your hand reached for the gun nearby. The glint of their weapons caught your eye as they aimed at you in return.

“Sweetheart,” the tallest man drawled, stepping forward. His tone was mocking, dangerous. He shoved someone in front of him—Beomgyu. Your breath hitched as your eyes locked onto his. His face was pale, streaked with dirt and tears, and a raw red mark marred his cheek. His wide, terrified eyes pleaded with you.

Red.

“What the fuck do you want, asshole?” You cocked your gun, the sharp metallic click echoing. One of them flinched. Good.

The leader sneered, shoving Beomgyu roughly to the side. He tied him to a post like he was nothing more than an animal. Your jaw tightened as you watched the way they manhandled him, your fists clenching around the gun. When he was done, the leader turned back to you, whistling low at the deadly glare you levelled at him. His cocky smirk only deepened.

“You look loaded,” he said, his eyes flicking to the bags by the wall. “And since you asked so nicely, we’d also like to take turns with you, sweetheart.”

Beomgyu shook his head violently from where he was tied, his muffled cries useless against their laughter. His chest heaved, panic consuming him as the men began to advance on you.

“We’re lucky you’re here,” the leader continued, leering. “If we didn’t have a choice, we’d take the boy instead. He’s got such a pretty face, after all.”

Red.

All you saw was red.

Your vision blurred as rage consumed you. You let one of them grab your gun without resistance. It didn’t matter.

You'll kill them all.

The leader was close now, grabbing a fistful of your hair to tilt your head back. His face was inches from yours, his smirk as disgusting as the words spilling from his mouth. “What’s the matter, sweetheart? No fight left in you?”

You smirked—just a little. It was enough to confuse him, before he could react, your teeth sank into his throat. Hard.

It was a spot right where you knew it would hurt most. A pressure point. His scream ripped through while he stumbled back, clutching at the gaping wound with blood pouring through his fingers. The bitter, metallic taste flooded your mouth, but you didn't stop. You grabbed the gun he dropped as he fell and turned, firing without hesitation.

BANG.

The man who had taken your gun didn’t even have time to aim before he hit the ground.

“Fuck—” one of them snarled, charging at you. Before he could get too close, your foot sweeped his legs out from under him. He hit the ground with a grunt.

BANG.

You aim your gun and pulled the trigger on his face. The man with the bat.

Pain exploded in your shoulder, a gunshot tearing through your flesh, but you didn’t flinch. His mistake wasn’t pulling the trigger; it was not aiming for your head like you aimed for his.

BANG.

The leader gurgled, blood bubbling up from his lips as he stared at you in disbelief. “Monster—” he chokes on the floor, his hands futilely gripping his shredded throat. His blood pooled beneath him as he sputtered his last, trying and failing to form a single word. “You—”

BANG.

You stared at the four lifeless bodies beneath you, the gun in your hand began to feel impossibly heavy. Blood clung to your shirt like a second skin, still warm, sticky. Your mouth tasted metallic, your hair a disheveled mess from the earlier struggle.

Behind you, Beomgyu sat slumped against the post, trembling. He’d watched everything—every deafening shot, every life you’d taken to protect. His body flinched with each pull of the trigger. Now, his tears streamed freely, but not out of fear. No, this wasn’t fear.

He was crying because you had to do this.

Sobbing around the cloth still gagging him, his muffled cries echoing in the now-silent barn. You moved, steps distant, as if someone else controlled them. You crouched down and began untying the ropes binding Beomgyu to the post. His breath hitched as your fingers worked the knots, your hands stained with blood that was not yours. The ropes fell loose. Beomgyu searched your face, desperate for some sign of emotion—but your eyes were blank, lost.

Before he could speak, you stood, bolting toward the barn door. Beomgyu panicked. He hiccuped, scrambling to his feet, his legs weak from being tied up for so long. “Y/N!” he tried to call, but his voice cracked. His head spinning.

You were gone. Were you leaving him? He looked around frantically, his feet faltering as the barn opened into the cool night. He couldn’t lose you. Not now.

Beomgyu finds you at the small lake nearby, kneeling in the water. The cold ripples lapped at your clothes, soaking them, but you didnt seem to notice. Your hands scrubbed furiously at your arms, over and over, like you were trying to erase your own skin. “Y/N,”

“Y-You were shot,” he said, voice cracking. His eyes darted to your shoulder, blood had begun to seep through your shirt.

You gasped for air, your chest squeezing with every shallow breath. No matter how hard you tried, it felt like the air couldn't reach your lungs. Your hands clutched your face as if you could physically hold yourself together—thoughts raced through your mind, loud and suffocating. The world around you blurred and warped, slipping further and further from your grasp.

You killed them.

“Y/N—” Beomgyu’s voice broke through. “Breathe—”

You barely registered him.

“Can you—”

“Look at me!” he shouted, louder this time. Hands cupping your face, trembling as much as yours. “Baby, look at me.” Your eyes darted up, locking onto his. Your tears spilled down your face.

“That’s it,” he said, his voice softening, “Just keep looking at me, brave girl.” You leaned into him, your weight heavy against his chest. His soft voice leads you.

“Okay,” he said, his forehead brushing yours gently. “I need you to help me out. Can you do that?” You nodded weakly in his arms.

“Good. Start with five things you can see. Anything, okay? Just tell me five things.” Your gaze darted, focusing on anything you could name. “The tree,” you whispered shakily. “The grass. The water. Your tears. And…you.”

“That’s it,” he said, “Now, four things you can touch. What are they?”

“Your hands,” you murmured, your fingers twitching against his. “The water. My hair. And…stones.”

“Perfect,” he said, his thumbs now against your cheeks. “What about three things you can hear?” You breathed deeply this time, the cloud in your head beginning to lift. “The wind. The water. And you.” His lips curved into the smallest, most fragile smile. “Two things you can smell?”

You hesitated. “The blood,” you admitted, voice cracking. “And…the trees.”

“One thing you can taste.”

You swallowed hard, finally meeting his eyes fully. “Metal,” you whispered, voice barely audible.

"You did it." Beomgyu’s voice trembled, his hands cradling your face with a gentleness that only made the tears come faster. He does his best to brush them away. "Thank fuck."

“Beomgyu,” his name on your lips slips out barely more than a whisper. Forehead pressed against his shoulder, your arms wrapping around him slowly, shakily, until they found their place on his back.

There's a soft press of lips against your temple, warm and fleeting.

He helped you wash the blood off your body, his hands careful, never lingering longer than necessary. His gaze flicked to yours every few seconds, searching for some sign of permission—or maybe for you to tell him to stop. But you didn't. You can't, not when his eyes held that pleading look, soft and desperate, as if this was the only way he could help you carry the weight of what had happened.

When it came time to clean your face, you stopped him with a slight shake of your head. He didn’t argue.

Later, he examined the gunshot wound on your shoulder, gently turning you to check for an exit wound. Relief flickered across his face when he found one. “It’s nothing I can’t handle, had this more than I can keep track of.” you replied. His head snapped up, disbelief written all over his features.

The two of you walked back to the barn in silence, clothes damp from the lake. Your hands swung loosely at your sides, brushing his once, then twice, until Beomgyu hesitantly reached out and took your hand in his. You didn’t pull away.

“You can wait here,” he said softly when the barn came into view. “I’ll grab our things. We need to leave—someone might’ve heard.” You nodded, understanding without him saying it: he didn’t want you to see the bodies again.

Within minutes, he returned with your bags. You rummaged through yours, finding fresh pants and underwear but no shirt. “Do you have a shirt?”

“I do,” He's already handing it to you.

“Thanks.”

Slipping it over your head, you caught the faint scent of him—musky, with a subtle sweetness. It suited him.

The two of you moved to a nearby tree, settling under its shadow. The world was still dark, the night stretching on endlessly. You sat beside him, his shoulders side by side with yours.“Can you say it again?”

“What?”

“My name,” he said, clearing his throat awkwardly. You noticed the tips of his ears reddening. “Like you did earlier.”

“No,”

He chuckled, his gaze falling to where your hands rested in your lap. “As I expected.” When you did not respond, he ventured another question. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“What about it?”

“Was that your first t—”

“It wasn’t,” you cut him off, your eyes fixed ahead. You didn’t know why, but the words kept coming. “I’ve killed before. Being a soldier in the war… it wasn’t a choice. Sometimes I even had to kill my own teammates.” You paused,“But this… it’s different. They were civilians.”

“You had to kill your teammates too?”

You turned to him, studying the calm expression on his face. His eyes—the same ones that had anchored you earlier—held no trace of distrust, even after your confession. “Why aren’t you freaked out by this?”

“Because I want to know you,” he said with a small shrug. “Believe it or not, I’ve always been a good judge of character—or at least, that’s what my mom used to say. Soobin, too.” He paused, his lashes casting faint shadows on his cheeks. “Ever since I met you, there hasn’t been a single thing you’ve done that I couldn’t understand.” The answer caught you off guard, made something in you falter.

"I had to kill them because they asked me to,"

“Then you're the strongest person I’ve ever met.” You didn’t know how to respond—you dont trust your voice not to break. How could he look at you like that after everything he’d seen? After all you’d done?

Minutes passed, when you felt him shift beside you, his arm lifting as he gently guided your head to rest on his shoulder. The warmth of him made it easier to close your eyes.

"You can rest now,"

“This one doesn’t work either,” Beomgyu called out from up ahead. You were still busy checking the car you’d been inspecting—never mind. It didn’t work, either.

“Should we just go on foot?” he asked, exasperation into his voice. It had been over a day of wandering and hoping to find a working vehicle. There’d been a few infected here and there, but sticking to the backroads had kept you from running into anything worse than a small group.

“It’s dangerous,” you replied without looking up.

Silence.

Beomgyu never let a comment slide without a retort, you know that by now. Heart thumping, you stepped out of the car and scanned the area, instincts on high alert.

“BAH!” He jumped out in front of you, doubling over with laughter so intense it sounded like he might choke. “You should’ve seen your face!” he managed between gasps. “It was so cute.”

“Are you done?”

Clearing his throat, Beomgyu grinned. It was just another one of his attempts to get on your nerves. He pulled something from his pocket—a dusty Polaroid camera he had found in one of the trucks. He flipped it open and checked the film. Two shots left. Without missing a beat, he raised it to his face and clicked the button.

You blinked, unimpressed. “Are you even checking the cars, or are you just running around pretending to be Dora the Explorer?”

Beomgyu smirked as the film began developing. “You watch Dora?”

“No.”

“You just mentioned her.”

“She’s famous.”

“So am I,” he shot back. “But you didn’t know me before this.”

“Are you seriously going to bring that up again?”

“Heh.” Beomgyu’s grin only widened. He could almost see it—the tiniest twitch at the corner of your lips before you turned away. Almost. It made his heart flutter in that stupid, uncontrollable way he hated admitting to himself.

As the photo developed, he glanced down at it. The image of you slowly came into view—you, standing in the middle of the road, hair pulled into a loose ponytail, staring at something out of frame with a faintly confused look on your face. “Beautiful,” he exhales.

If you looked this good now, how stunning would you be on a normal day?

If this were a normal day, Beomgyu would be all over you.He’d give you flowers every single day, just to make you smile. He’d buy you anything you wanted—or even things you didn’t know you needed. Love is effort. It's what his parents taught him. — And he’d give it, all of it. He’d take photos of you, even beg if he had to, make playlists for you, play games with you, anything.

He wondered if you’d be any good at FPS games. You were already a menace with a gun in real life, so you’d probably be terrifying in a match.

Maybe, if the world ever allowed it, he’d convince you to visit Daegu, his hometown with him. His parents would love you. His brother, too, though Beomgyu would definitely have to bribe him to keep his mouth shut about the massive crush he’d been harboring on you. Would you like… Toto?

Beomgyu stared at the camera in his hands. Who knows if he’ll ever get another moment like this—another chance—in a world as unpredictable as this one? The idea settles in his mind, and he doesn’t let himself hesitate. “Let’s take a picture together.”

You stopped in your tracks, turning to give him that deadpan, unamused stare—the one that always made Beomgyu bite back a grin. Another idea sparked his mind, “Okay, listen. After this, I promise not to mess around anymore,” He jutted his lower lip out just slightly, eyes pleading like a puppy who’d been caught chewing on a shoe.

“You promise.”

“Cross my heart,” he said quickly, nodding like his life depended on it. When you didn’t immediately reply, he skipped towards you. He knew this silence, too—your subtle little “yes” that didn’t require any words. He’d been observing you to pick up on your signals, even the smallest ones.

Without giving you time to change your mind, Beomgyu lifted the camera, stepped close, and pressed his cheek against yours. The faint warmth of your skin against his made his stomach flip, but he ignored it, snapping the picture before you could pull away.

You jerked back, shaking your head.

As the photo developed, Beomgyu stared at it, the edges curling faintly as the image sharpened. There it was—your face, with that same unamused look, your lips slightly pressed together like a daughter forced into posing for an overly enthusiastic mom. Beside you was him, the complete opposite—grinning like an idiot, dimples on full display, both your faces so close, touching.

Something about the contrast, about the way your expressions came together on that tiny square, made his heart do that stupid fluttering thing again. He tucked the photo into his pocket, alongside the other one.

He kept his promise and moved to the next car with you.

After three more hours of searching, you finally found a working car. Beomgyu let out an excited cheer, breaking into his little happy dance again. You tried not to smile, tried not to let his enthusiasm rub off on you—but, honestly, it was getting harder and harder to resist.

"Catch," you called, tossing the last bag to him. He caught it easily, stashing it in the backseat. Sliding into the driver’s seat, you glanced over as he settled into the passenger side. He looked so at ease there, sprawling out and fiddling with something on the dash. A passenger princess. Or was it prince? Either way, you could get used to him being there, looking peaceful for once.

You started the engine and pulled out onto the road, the car’s windows down to let in the cool breeze. As you drove, Beomgyu’s gaze drifted to your hair, your loose ponytail starting to come undone from the wind.

“Let me fix this for you,” he said, leaning over.

You felt his hands gently brush against your hair as he worked, careful not to distract you too much while you focused on the road. In the rearview mirror, you caught sight of his face—his brow furrowed in concentration, lips slightly parted. His fingers brushed against your neck as he gathered your hair, the touch light and deliberate. You could feel the care in the way he worked, securing the ponytail more tightly this time. "There."

When he finished, he leaned back, his hands falling to his lap as he took a moment to admire his work—admiring you. His gaze lingered, drinking in the curve of your face, the way your hands gripped the steering wheel just tight enough. He never felt safer than he did here, by your side. Somehow, in the middle of all this, he’d found his safe place.

His safe place.

“Try to get some sleep while I drive,” Beomgyu's unable to look away—you were right there in front of him, so effortlessly beautiful it made his heart ache. The soft curve of your cheeks, the faint flush that he couldn’t stop staring at—he wanted to reach out, to brush his lips against them, to trace the tip of your nose with his own.

In the short time he’d been alone with you—just forty-eight hours—it felt like he’d known you a lifetime. Like you’d been waiting there all along, someone he was meant to find. He wants to know more.

“Yeah, sleep. Sure.” He replies, words catching in his throat.

You’ve been driving for a while now. Beside you, Beomgyu was fast asleep, his soft snores fill your ears. A faint smile tugged at your lips as you glanced over, his head resting against the window, one hand tucked beneath it like a pillow.

The camp was close, maybe 15 minutes away. Just 15 more minutes before you’d be separated from him. The thought twisted something deep in your chest. Selfish. You knew it was selfish to feel this way. You barely knew him, and yet…

You glanced at him again, his face soft and unguarded in sleep. Everything else seemed to fade—the road ahead, the weight of your responsibilities, even the constant buzz of survival.

Survival.

Being with him didn’t feel like you were just trying to survive.

Him—who had no choice but to end up with you. You were about to leave that camp. You're already far. But when you saw him at that overrun camp, darting between tents with nothing but desperation and bad luck to shield him from the bandits, something inside you shifted. You just moved. Your feet carried you forward before your mind could catch up, before the voice of reason could stop you.

You didn’t know then that the next two days with him would chip away at the walls you’d built.

It was the little things, mostly. The way he insisted you eat first, even when food was scarce. The way he handed you the best parts of the military rations. How he seemed to know when the weight of the barn still lingered in your mind, distracting you with his terrible jokes or a question just long enough to pull you out of it. Or how he’d ask if you’d slept okay, like it mattered in a world where nothing really did.

And that smile he gives you—so easy, so genuine, even when there was no reason for it. Like he just couldn’t help himself. But now, it was ending. It had to end. You have to end it.

You tightened your grip on the wheel, staring hard at the road ahead. This was the right thing to do, the smart thing. You’d get him to safety, to people who could take care of him better than you ever could.

He didn’t belong out here with you, and you didn’t belong anywhere.

Survival.

There's nothing more that terrified you.

You spot the camp—Jeonju. It’s much bigger, with sturdy railings circling the perimeter to keep the infected out. The car rolls closer, the guards stationed on top of the walls notice you. A blinding floodlight clicks on. You know what that means: get out and identify yourselves.

“Beomgyu,” you say, shaking him awake. “We’re here. Wake up, dumbass.”

“Huh? Oh,” he mutters, the light strike his face. “Got it.”

“We’ll leave our stuff in the car for now. We just need to head up there and check in.” He nods, following your lead as you climb out. You raise both hands in the air, palms open. Beomgyu mimics you.

“State your business!” one of the guards calls down from the wall.

Before you can answer, you notice movement out of the corner of your eye. An infected, shambling closer—too close to Beomgyu. You’re already moving, boots hitting the dirt as you drive your foot into its chest and plunge your knife into its skull.

You step back into position, brushing some blood off your sleeve. “Park Y/N!” you shout up at the guard. “I report directly to Captain Joon. I’ve got Choi Beomgyu with me—a rescued civilian.”

You waited for ten minutes, at most.

The gates creak open, the panels sliding apart to reveal three soldiers stepping out, their rifles at the ready. One of them freezes, his eyes going wide. “That’s really Y/N from the Black Berets. Idiot.”

You ignore his outburst, your gaze cool as it shifts to his badge. “Can we go in now, Ji-min?”

The soldiers straighten instantly, snapping salutes in your direction. Two of them move toward the car, offering to grab your supplies. You give them a curt nod before turning to Beomgyu, only to find him already looking at you—his eyes, questioning.

“Is my team here?” you ask the soldier who stayed behind.

“Yes,” You glance back at Beomgyu. His stare now answered. Without another word, you both start to walk toward the gate.

Beomgyu’s eyes widened, his breath unstable after he spotted the four figures waiting inside. They were here. They were really here.

Before he could fully process it, Soobin’s tall frame sprinted toward him, Yeonjun and Taehyun close behind. He barely noticed you stepping aside to give them space, his entire focus locked on his brothers. The first embrace hit him like a floodgate bursting. Strong arms pulled him in, and the dam he’d tried so hard to hold together crumbled. He buried his face into the familiar comfort of Soobin’s shoulder, trying desperately not to sob. He had missed them. They had never left his mind—not once.

“Choi Beomgyu,” Soobin said, pulling back just enough to look at him. “Are you okay?”

Yeonjun’s hand came up to gently ruffle his hair, a comforting gesture that made the lump in Beomgyu’s throat harder to swallow. “You’re not hurt, right?”

Beomgyu shook his head, sniffling as he wiped at his face.

“You took your time,” Taehyun teased with a small smile. “Sorry we couldn't wait for you back there. It's impossible to get to you, but we really tried.”

“It does not matter,” Beomgyu replied quickly, “Wait—where’s Kai?”

“He’s not here yet,” Soobin admitted, voice pained. “But one of the soldiers saw him escaping with someone else—a soldier. They said he made it out.”

“That ambush was insane,” Beomgyu nodded, even his heart ached. He had to hold onto hope. Kai was strong—he’d make it. Maybe tomorrow, or the day after, Kai would walk through those gates too.

A sudden panic shot through him, his head snapping to the side. “What’s wrong?”

Beomgyu eyes scanned the cluster of soldiers nearby. Where are you? He finally spotted you, standing with Captain Joon. The older man looked serious, but there was a warmth in his demeanor as he clapped a hand on your shoulder. You said something to him, your expression calm. Captain Joon’s face softened, and for a moment, it looked like he wanted to pull you into an embrace.

“She’s been with you this whole time?” Yeonjun asked, surprised.

“Since the start,”

Soobin doesn’t wait. He steps forward, taking Beomgyu by the arm as Yeonjun and Taehyun fall in beside them. Together, the four approach you. You don't have time to register what’s happening before Soobin wraps his arms around you in a unexpected hug.

“Thank you,” he said, voice thick with emotion. “Thank you for bringing him back to us.”

You glance over Soobin’s shoulder, catching Beomgyu’s gaze. He’s watching you, his eyes soft and full of something unspoken—a warmth that makes your chest tighten. You manage a small smile in return, the corners of your lips curving just enough to acknowledge him. He gives back a grin, that makes his dimple appear.

Gently patting Soobin on the back, you step away. “How are you holding up?” you ask,“I heard Kai’s not here yet. But with Ji-ho looking out for him, I know he’ll make it. He’s capable.”

Your words seem to ease the tension in the group. Soobin nods, his shoulders relaxing slightly. Yeonjun offers a faint smile, and even Taehyun pats your shoulder.

“We’re managing,” Soobin says. “Just waiting to hear what Hybe’s next steps are.”

Captain Joon appeared beside you, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder. “You’ve done enough for today,” he says. “Go wash up. Dinner will be ready soon.”

Beomgyu trails behind the other three, footsteps slower, reluctant. He looks back over his shoulder, at the direction you went—away from him, toward your own assigned space. This camp is massive, lined with rows of tents in all shapes and sizes, yet somehow, even with so many people around, Beomgyu feels unmoored without you nearby.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. You’ll need to change the bandage on your shoulder soon. He knows that, just like he knows you probably won’t bother unless someone reminds you. It’s always him who keeps track, who insists on helping you replace the worn-out wraps.

“Here’s your room,” Taehyun points to the tent ahead. Beomgyu steps inside, placing his things near the bed. It’s small but better—an actual mattress and even a tiny bathroom. He crouches by his bag, pulling out a fresh set of clothes for after his shower.

He tugs off his shirt, fingers brushed against the knife strapped to his belt. Slowly, he unhooks it, focuses on the small engraving on the handle—your name, etched deep into the worn metal. Would you want it back? Probably. The thought makes his pout, because he doesn’t want to let it go. Not yet.

He crosses the room and sets the knife carefully on the small table, almost tenderly, like it's an object meant for something more delicate than killing.

He showers with his heart feeling impossibly heavy.

Your hair was still damp from the shower, clinging to your neck as you ran a towel through it. Tugging a fresh pair of cargo pants up your hips, you reached for your shirt.

“You should always keep it wrapped as long as it’s not healed yet.” His voice echoed in your mind, unbidden.

“Fucking Choi Beomgyu,” you muttered, shaking your head as you grabbed the roll of bandages from the small supply pile nearby. “Always so annoying.”

Your fingers worked quickly, wrapping the fresh bandage around your shoulder. The wound looked much better now. Once you were satisfied it was comfortable, you pulled your shirt over your head and stepped out of your tent.

Your stomach growled in response with the smeel of cooking. A warm meal—finally. “Y/N!”

You turned at the sound of Yeonjun’s voice. He waved you over, seated with their small group near one of the campfires. Several other campfires are on the open space with large pots of food simmered over flames. “Sit down here,” Yeonjun offered, patting the spot on the log beside him.

You took the seat, extending your hands toward the warmth of the fire. Across, your eyes met Beomgyu’s. He was seated opposite you, quiet for once, his gaze flickering away as soon as it met yours.

Yeonjun handed you a steaming bowl of soup, carefully scooped from the pot. “Fill up. It’s good,” he said with a grin.

“Thanks,” you murmured, taking the bowl into your hands. You reached for a spoon, Soobin beat you to it, holding one out.

“We’ve been waiting for you,” he said, his tone matter-of-fact. “Let me know if you need seconds.”

You cleared your throat, a little thrown off by the casual care they offered. It wasn’t something you were used to.

The conversation around the fire swirled, voices rising and falling as they swapped stories. You ate in silence, letting the warmth of the meal soothe you. It had been so long since you’d had something like this. But one person wasn’t talking much. Beomgyu.

You coughed—ate a little too fast, the food catching in your throat. It has only been a second when a water bottle was offered.

“Drink up,” Beomgyu said, already twisting the cap off for you. He reached for your bowl, holding it steady so you could take the bottle from his hand. You took a sip, the cool water easing the discomfort. “Thanks,” you muttered.

“That’s right, Beomgyu,” Taehyun teased, smirking. “Take care of her. I’m sure she had to drag your sorry ass out there.”

“She did not!” Beomgyu blurted, his ears turning red.

“Oh, I bet she carried you on her back,” Yeonjun chimed in, clearly enjoying himself. “What? No way!”

“You probably teased her the whole time,” Taehyun added, grinning.

“I didn’t—”

“What a baby,” Soobin finished with a dramatic shake of his head.

Their teasing bounced around the fire, growing louder. Mixed with exaggerated groans as playful shoves sent shoulders bumping on the log seats. Beomgyu, red-faced and clearly at his limit, stomped his foot on the ground in mock frustration.

You couldn’t help it; a laugh escaped you, small at first but growing. You quickly covered your mouth with the back of your hand, your shoulders shaking as you tried to stifle it.

Beomgyu's wide eyes locked on you. You laughed. You finally fucking laughed. He feels his heart about to burst at the sweet sound.

“Oh-ho, look at her!” Soobin exclaimed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “The stress must’ve caught up with her. This is your fault, Choi Beomgyu!”

"Choi Soobin, you shi—," Beomgyu sputtered in protest, and more laughter joined with you.

It had been a week since that night by the fire. A week since Beomgyu arrived at the camp with you—and a week since he last saw you laugh like that. He could still picture it—your face by the warm glow of the fire, the soft orange light making you look almost ethereal. Did you know how exquisite you look when your eyes crinkle with joy? “Did you cut the vegetables, Beomgyu?” Yeonjun asked him as he pointed at the makeshift kitchen in the camp. “Yeah, I did,” he replied, tossing the emptied cans into the trash. He’d offered to handle it, trying to distract himself. Hybe still hadn’t contacted the military about their group, so they’d started helping around. The soldiers were reluctant at first, but Soobin had talked them into it. Now, they pitched in with small domestic tasks—delivering freshly laundered clothes from the women who washed them, cutting vegetables for the large communal meals, anything to stay useful. Beomgyu learned there were about forty-five people at the camp: nine civilians like them, eleven workers, and twenty-five soldiers. It had been a week since you’d spoken to him. A week since you’d even looked at him. Beomgyu tried. He really did. He’d tried to reach out. He started waking up early—a feat for him, someone who once detested mornings—he’d wait by the path, knowing it was your routine to jog at first light. But the moment he saw you, stretching with Do-hyun under the rising sun, his courage crumbled. Feet rooted to the spot, unable to move closer. He tried during meals too, sweeping his eyes on the tables, hoping to sit with you—but every time their group arrived, you were already standing, tray in hand, heading somewhere he could not follow. He even lingered around the grounds, pretending to have something to do. Sometimes, he felt a pair of eyes on him—heart leaping at the possibility it was you—but when he looked up, the space was empty. Eventually, he’d retreat to his tent, his shoulders heavy with defeat. It felt like you were avoiding him. Ignoring him. Do you hate him? Did he do something wrong? He lay awake most nights, staring at the canvas ceiling of his tent, replaying your moments together over and over. He could still feel the warmth of your hands. The memory of you in his arms—how perfectly you fit in it. Were you okay? Was your shoulder healing as it should? Were you eating enough? Sleeping well? Had he already become invisible to you? What is he to you anyway? A friend? Do you even consider him as one?

“You’ve been out of it these past days, Beomgyu.” Yeonjun’s voice broke into his thoughts, accompanied by a firm hand on his shoulder. His eyes searched Beomgyu’s face, concern evident. “What’s troubling you?”

“Nothing, I…” Beomgyu’s voice cracked as he tried to answer. He swallowed hard, looking away. “I guess I’m just… more tired than usual.”

“If you need to talk, let me know, okay?”

"When are you going to talk to him?" Do-hyun asked, breathless, as you pulled him to his feet after knocking him down for what felt like the hundredth time tonight. The moon guides your makeshift sparring circle. You hadn’t planned to spar with him; it just happened. Restless, you’d found yourself outside his tent, knocking like a ghost haunting its own grave.

You released his hand abruptly, stepping back at his words. “Let’s go again,” you said, more to yourself than to him.

Without waiting for a reply, you charged, throwing a closed fist at his right side. He dodged it easily, his laughter breaking the tense silence.

“You know, you’re way less terrifying when you’re distracted,” he teased, grinning at the glare you shot him. “Seriously, Y/N? How long are you gonna keep ignoring the boy? The guy’s trying so hard it’s starting to make me feel bad. If it were me, I’d have fumbled already—”

Before he could finish, you grabbed him by the neck, locking him in a chokehold. “I t-tap out! Fuck! You're going to kill me.” he wheezed, coughing as you let him go. He stumbled back, rubbing his neck. “Shit, I forgot how strong your grip is. For real, how are you not a man?” You didn’t respond. Instead, you wiped the sweat from your forehead, glancing at the clock. It was nearing 11 p.m.

“Reject the kid already, will you? Do him a favor so he can move on.” Do-hyun muttered, reaching for his water bottle. “You cold-ass woman.”

“He’s not a kid,” you said finally, your voice low but firm. Grabbing a towel, you wiped the sweat from your face. “He’s almost my age.”

“Sure,” Do-hyun replied, watching you closely as you drank from your water bottle, to the bags under your eyes. “Not sleeping again?”

You shook your head, capping the bottle and tossing it aside. “It’s harder these days.”

“I know,” he said, softer now. “But you’ve gotta try. I need to head out anyway—errands tomorrow. And honestly, I can’t take more knockouts from you. Have mercy.”

“Idiot,” you muttered, smirking despite yourself.

“You’re the idiot for ignoring—” You didn’t let him finish, rolling your eyes as you turned and headed for your tent. A quick shower later, you were lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. The camp quiet, your mind was anything but. Frowning, you closed your eyes, waiting for sleep to come.

It never did.

Beomgyu tossed onto his right side again, the thin mattress beneath him groaning in protest. He lost count of how many times he'd shifted since lying down, each movement more restless than the last.

His chest felt tight, like his heart was pounding against some invisible weight. He sat up, running a hand through his messy hair in frustration. His gaze wandered aimlessly, landing on the small table by his bedside. He froze.

Polaroids.

The universe must be mocking him for missing you this much. Did he really need more reminders?

He inhaled deeply, the sound sharp in the quiet of his tent. Standing abruptly, he began pacing, his feet brushing against the worn canvas floor as a single question churned in his mind: Should I see her? His eyes flicked to the clock—11:28 p.m. Were you even awake?

But then, what difference did it make? Another night of lying there, drowning in this ache, wasn’t an option. He just needed something—your face, your voice, anything.

That’s what he told himself as he stopped pacing, turning toward the small mirror propped against the tent’s corner. His reflection stared back, dishevelled and vulnerable in a way he hadn’t let himself feel in years. He raked his hands through his hair, trying to smooth it out, What the hell are you doing? he thought bitterly. You’re an idol for god’s sake.

But then again, you were… a goddess. And right now, none of the titles, pressure, his previous job or self-doubt mattered. It doesn't matter if you'll kick him out as soon as you see him.

What mattered was seeing you.

He stopped just short of your tent, staring at the outline of it. His breath hitched, and his body betrayed him as he turned away, a cowardly retreat already forming in his mind. But he only made it three steps before he falter, his fists clenching at his sides. No. Not tonight.

He turned back, counting the seconds in his head. He rehearsed the words he’d been forming for days now, words that felt too small for what he really wanted to say but would have to do. This had to count. It had to—

“I can see you out there, you know. What do you want?” The sound of your voice sent a panic through him. You sounded tired, a little annoyed. The shadows must have given him away—his pacing back and forth casting restless shapes against the thin fabric of your tent. “Do-hyun?”

“It’s… Beomgyu,” He countered quickly, the way you said another man’s name at this hour unsettling him more than it should. Silence. He braced himself for rejection, for the possibility that you’d tell him to go, that he's insane to be here at this hour, or that you didn’t want to see him.

But the truth is, your eyes are wide inside. He’s insane. What is he doing here? Why now? You stand up slowly, your fingers brushing the edge of your blanket. You can’t turn him away now. It’s too obvious. “Come in.”

Beomgyu that stood outside your tent, hand unstable when he finally pushed the flap aside. The sudden rush of light revealed you, standing there, your eyes locking onto his. For a minute, he forgot how to breathe. His eyes on your face like he was trying to memorize every line, every shadow. “Hi,” he said, it wasn’t how he had planned to start, but it was all he could manage.

You instinctively stepped behind, folding your arms across your chest as a barrier. “What is it?” You looked away, unable to meet his eyes. They were too much—too deep, too brown.

"Are you mad at me?" Beomgyu's voice wavers, cracking slightly as the words spill out. All those rehearsed lines, the ones he'd turned over in his head a thousand times, crumble into this raw, unpolished question.

"I-I— you’ve been ignoring me, Y/N. Don’t even try to deny it." His voice rises, “I called— I even called you out there twice, and I know you heard me.” He pauses, the lump in his throat refuses to go away. "Did I… do something? Something that made you mad at me?" The words are choked, his voice barely above a whisper now.

His eyes—glassy, rimmed red—look at you—he’s holding back tears; you can tell by the way his lips tremble slightly, the way he bites down hard on the inside of his cheek. But despite it all, he doesn’t look away. He can’t.

Not when he’s missed you this much.

"Beomgyu, whatever you think is between us," you let your arms fall limply to your sides, "it's nothing. This… this is just a mission. Soon, everything will go back to where it belongs." You pause, your words deliberate, heavy. "And we’ll never see each other again."

His eyebrows knit, disbelief etched his face. "Who decides that? Who says that?"

You exhale sharply, the weight of your own words pressing down on your chest. "It’s just how it is. That’s how it’s always been. You should surround yourself with people like you."

"I—" he starts, but you cut him off before he can unravel any further.

"Stop this." Your tone hardens, more defensive than you intend, but it’s the only way to protect yourself. "Don’t talk to me again, Beomgyu. Don’t seek me out. If you’re just… grateful for what happened, fine. I’ll accept that. And if you feel guilty about it?" Your voice cracks slightly, but you push through, "Then maybe… maybe you can pay me back someday. In the future."

Beomgyu’s lips trembled as he fought for his next words, his hands shaking. “Then tell me. Tell me, straight to my face, looking in my eyes, that you didn’t feel anything. That you don’t feel anything for me. That you’ll never like me, no matter what I do. Even if I…” His voice broke, a tear slipping down his cheek. “Even if I die trying.”

Everything you’ve held back finally spill over, and your voice comes out in a shaky whisper. "Dumbass."

“You can’t,” he said softly, eyes tracing the fall of your tears.

“What are—”

"I think I'm in love with you," he says, voice breaking on his confession. "I'm in love with you that I wonder how the hell I lived without you all these years. I’m so glad I met you, did you know that? If I’d known, I’d have counted down the days—even marked my calendar stupidly—just to know you were waiting for me at the end of it. And if I had a choice to go back in time, to stop this apocalypse before it happened, I wouldn’t do a damn thing. Because I’d lose the chance to meet you. Here. As insane as it sounds," His voice shakes, but he pushes on, "I won’t—I won’t force you…. to like me. That’s not what I want. But would it be selfish of me to ask you to stop acting like I'm not here? Like you don’t know me? I can’t…" He hiccups, shoulders shaking. "I just want to be part of your life, Y/N."

His words made you take a step forward, your hands trembling as you cup his tear-streaked face. He flinches at first, but then he melts into your touch, his breathing uneven. “I’m afraid,” you admitted, your voice breaking, freckles on his face evident with his face bare. “I’ll ruin you. I’ll ruin your life. I'm a fucking ruined person. Can’t you see that?”

"I see you more than you see yourself," His hands come up to cover yours, gripping them tightly as though letting go would mean losing you. "You're a fucking angel."

You sobbed at his words. Angel. The word echoed in your head, a word so unfamiliar. How could someone as shattered as you ever be called that? How could Beomgyu see anything but the cracks, the mess? How could someone this real—this kind—exist? Is he even real? A dream? Or is he just a figment of your imagination, conjured up in your darkest moments to give you false hope?

Your tears fall faster, and Beomgyu panics, own heart breaking at the sight of you crying. Gently, he lets go of your hands and slides his up your arms, his touch featherlight—moves slowly, as though afraid he might hurt you, tracing his way to your shoulders, then your neck, until his fingers cradle your face.

“Who would’ve guessed that you’re a crybaby too?” he whispered, his voice uneven but with affection. He steps closer, wrapping you in his arms, pulling your unstable form against his chest. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, your sobs muffled against his warmth.

You feel it—all the longing, all the sleepless nights spent thinking about him. The ache of holding yourself back every time you see him from afar—waiting for you, searching for you. He holds you.

He holds you like you’re the most precious thing in the world. One hand caresses the back of your head, his fingers threading through your hair, while the other keeps you pressed against him. He presses soft, baby kisses to the side of your head, whispering. "Y/N,"

You stepped back slightly from his embrace, but Beomgyu’s hands stayed on your face, his thumbs softly brushing against your skin. He smiled—how could a single expression hold so much, and somehow, make everything hurt a little less? You swallowed the lump in your throat. Maybe, just maybe, you could have this. Even if it was only for tonight.

You rose onto your tiptoes, and leaned in. Closing your eyes, you pressed your lips to his—a fleeting, tentative kiss that barely lasted a second. It was quick, and when you pulled back, you were met with his wide eyes staring down at you, stunned. He hadn’t even had time to close them.

For a moment, neither of you moved. His eyes half-closed, his hands tightened slightly on your face, and before you could say anything, he leaned down, pulling you back in.

This time, he kissed you. He tilted his head just enough to fit against you perfectly, his lips moving against yours with a tenderness that made your knees weak. His grip on your face was firm, his tounge grazing your lips—a soft plea—asking for entrance. You let him in, letting him taste you as you tasted him.

Both of you pull back, breaths heavy. A delicate string of saliva still connects your lips, breaking as Beomgyu takes a step forward more, his eyes locked on yours, "I want you."

You nod, reaching for him, your fingers curling around his arm to pull him back into you. "We have to be quiet."

His hands find your waist, fingers dip beneath the hem of your shirt. He lifts it, the fabric brushing over your skin, exposing the softness and heat of your bare waist to his touch. His palms glide over your skin.

You found yourself on your back, on the softness of your mattress, his weight settled on top of you. Delicate and warm. His hand grasps your thigh and he hoist it up his waist. “Please kiss me.” He murmurs into your mouth.

Your tongue brushes his, and he squeezes your thigh. He returns it, seeking your bottom lip to lightly suck on it. Your hands are up his shirt and he starts tugging down your loose pants. He shakily runs a finger between your legs and you inhale sharply. He rubs you, the feel of you soft, so good. He spreads you apart and gently caresses your clit. And you’re so fucking wet. He can't help but give a light sensual pinch. "Beomgyu," you moan on his lips. Made his heart flutter.

Your breathing is harsher and he looks at your pretty face as he shoves his middle finger in you—touching you is enough for him. He looks at you—wanting to see every expression you make. He’s going to fuck you until you cum all over his dick and then he’ll do it again. Until you don't doubt whatever this is. Until you won't be able to think about leaving him anymore.

He fumbles with your remaining clothes, taking his time as if savouring every second. It’s slower than you expected—partly because he keeps grabbing your face, pulling you into deep, heated kisses that leave you breathless.

Your hands help him get out of his shirt, pulls it over his head—hair falling over his forehead prettily. He leans down and kisses you—hands grab your hair and roam your body, his mouth does the same. Your face, your neck, your shoulder blades. "You're beautiful,"

He kisses down your chest and you run your fingers through his now much longer hair. He licks your nipple and your breath hitched. He bites gently, then bites harder and your back arches—he suckles, then lick. He does it again and again, to your left and right, giving them enough attention. He hears you moan—smirks at your skin—and he keeps wanting to hear it.

He goes down further—kisses down and the smell of you is divine. His face hovers and with his fingers he spreads you apart. He swallows—salivating. He sticks his tongue out, lightly licking your clit. He buries his face in, tongue inside, hands on your hips. "Shit, you taste so sweet, could eat this all day," He groans, lapping up, sucks the arousal out of you. He moves up, nose bumping on your clit then he suckles. His dick is throbbing at the way you taste. Your hands pull his hair, and he feels you down on his chin. He was leaving no parts untouched by his warm mouth.

Going back to you, looking at your face, he bows his head. “Kiss me.”

You pull his head down and kiss him, he slides right in and you cry out. "Fuck, you're so tight," He kisses you while he trusts in and out, your moans muffled on his mouth. "You feel so good," Your nails on his back scrape and he thrusts, hard, and keeps himself all the way in and you squirm under him, feeling you coming close.

"More, gyu." You whine out, legs gripping his warm waist as you pull him closer. He did, trust becoming faster, hitting the spot that made you moan out his name. He repositions himself deeper inside you, pressing you into the mattress, his free hand reaching for your clit, rubs lightly. "M'close," Then you felt it, the warm fuzzy feeling—the rush, almost blinding—the warmth of his arms and the softness of his whispered name on your lips that brought tears to your eyes. His own cum mixing with yours.

He smiled down at you, his lips quirking in a soft, almost shy grin as he took in your fucked-out expression. “I love you,” he whispered. He can't help himself.

The faint sound of running water filled the room as he disappeared for a second, and you assumed he was cleaning himself up. When he returned, his pants sit low on his hips, his chest still bare, and in his hand, he holds a warm, damp cloth.

Your eyes follow him as he approaches, his eyes filled with so much love it made your chest ache. He kneels beside you, his touch was careful as he ran the cloth over your skin, wiping away, cleaning you up. He worked slowly, keeping one of his hand holding your own, focus entirely on you.

When he was done, he looked up at you with that same soft smile, his eyes searching yours. You feel your own lips curve in response, reaching out to touch his flushed cheeks, your fingers brushing against his warm skin. The simple touch makes his smile widen into a boyish grin. His grin burned into the back of your mind. He holds you. He holds your heart too.

I love you too.

The warm rays of the morning sun seeped through the thin walls of the tent, casting a golden glow over the room. Dust motes floated in the light, drifting toward the tangled mess of blankets wrapped around your body.

It was the best sleep you’d had in a long time. You didn’t even remember falling asleep. A yawn slipped past your lips as you stretched your arms, rolling over to the other side.

You weren't alone.

Beomgyu.

He looked so peaceful when he slept, his features soft and unguarded. The sunlight kissed his skin, giving it a honeyed glow, and his hair fell messily over his forehead, looking impossibly touchable. The blanket on his side was pushed low, revealing that he wasn’t wearing a shirt. His pale chest and neck were scattered with faint love bites—marks you had left there. His lips were slightly parted, and he looked so utterly…. serene, it made your chest swell.

You reached out, your fingers gently comb his hair. “Beomgyu,” you murmured softly.

"Hm?" He hummed.

You smiled, and he returned it—his smile lazy, but somehow brighter than the sunlight spilling into the room. “Hi, baby,” he greeted,

"It's morning,"

He groaned lightly, shifting closer to you. “I think… we should stay here,” he mumbled, his voice raspy and slow, as though speaking was too much effort. He moved until he was pressed against you, his head resting on your bare chest as he planted soft, sleepy kisses against your skin.

“I have things to do, you know,” you protested lightly, though you made no move to stop him. Instead, you let your arms encircle him, cradling his head. His hand slid beneath the blanket, settling on the small of your back, familiar against your bare skin.

“Wake up,” you poked his cheek with your finger.

He parted his lips and let out an exaggerated, snore that startled a laugh out of you. “Idiot,” you said, shaking your head, though the fondness in your tone betrayed you. “I’ll give you an hour. After that, Captain Joon is going to start looking for me.”

"Let him look," Beomgyu groaned, burying his face deeper into your chest like a stubborn child. “But why is he always looking for you?”

“Because he’s my captain, you twat,” you replied, pinching his cheeks. “And, oh yeah, he’s my father.”

“What!?” Beomgyu shot up, his eyes now wide open and his sleepiness completely forgotten.

“Well, my adoptive father," Beomgyu’s eyes softened instantly at the word adoptive. He didn’t press, but his silence, the slight tilt of his head, was an invitation to continue if you were ready.

“Yeah, so, uh…” You swallowed hard, your fingers fidgeting slightly. “My parents were both special forces soldiers. When they were on a mission—a spy operation—they… they didn’t make it back. I was five.”Hi hand found yours, his fingers squeezing gently.

“I was sent to an orphanage after that,” you continued, your voice steadier now. "I was there for a few years. Then, when I was ten, Captain Joon showed up out of nowhere. Turns out, he was my dad’s best friend. He adopted me. Took me in like I was his own.”

Beomgyu nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. “How did you end up being a soldier?” he asked softly.

A bittersweet smile tugged at your lips. “I guess it was always in me,” you admitted. “Even as a kid. Captain Joon saw that too. I was… kind of wild. Always getting into trouble at school—detentions, fights. I couldn’t stand bullies, even when they weren’t targeting me. I’d step in, no matter the cost.” You paused, letting out a quiet laugh. “It got worse when I got older. One time, I was walking home, and this group of older boys jumped me. They were bigger, stronger… I didn’t stand a chance. Captain Joon saw what happened, and after that, he decided to put me somewhere I couldn’t get hurt like that anymore. He took me with him—in a military camp.”

Your fingers brushed the hem of the blanket, your voice growing quieter. “I officially became a soldier when I was seventeen. Got into the Black Berets a year later.”

Beomgyu traced the line of your jaw with his fingers, his gentle touch made the words come easier.

“The time you asked me how old I was when I started…” You hesitated, but his intertwined hands with yours encouraged you to continue. “I got rude because… that question was asked of me once before. By someone. He was bitten by the infected, and I—” Your voice cracked, “I ended up killing him.”

You couldn’t meet his eyes, couldn’t bear the thought of seeing judgment—or worse, pity—staring back at you, but Beomgyu didn’t let you hide. His hands cupped your face, tilting it up until your eyes met his.

“Thank you for telling me,” he said, “He’s not suffering anymore.”

Your eyes shimmered with unshed tears as you nodded. He wrapped his arms around you, guiding your head to rest against his chest. No words were spoken. For minutes, you stayed like that, listening to the thump of his heart against yours, a language of its own.

"I should probably be more careful around Captain Joon,” Beomgyu said out of nowhere, trying to lighten the mood.

You laughed, arms around you holding you closer. When he noticed you staring at him, he tilted his head slightly, his expression playful. “What? Too handsome?”

“Pfft,” you snorted. “Androgynous.” He whined dramatically, leaning in to pepper your face with kisses. You tried to push him away, laughing as he chased your retreating lips.

“Who would’ve thought,” he murmured, “that I’d fall in love with the prettiest girl at the end of the world?”

The words brought heat to your cheeks, and you turned your face away to hide the blush. “Okay, that’s enough,” you said, slipping out of his hold and reaching for the first shirt you could find—it was his.

He sat up too, watching you pull his shirt over your body. The hem brushed your thighs, and he couldn’t help but smile at the sight. He gathers your hair that had gotten caught under the shirt, his fingers brushing against your neck. "I need to shower, Beomgyu."

"Can I join you? You know, to save water," He immediately quips. You smirk, your eyes meeting his before you give him a subtle nod. That tiny gesture is all it takes for his heart to race, he’s sure you can hear it.

In fact, there was barely any washing done.

Beomgyu finally steps out of your tent, though it took more convincing from you than it probably should have.

You’re still inside, safe from the prying eyes. The sun is higher now, casting everything in a harsh light. He squints, adjusting to the brightness, and immediately spots a few soldiers milling about nearby.

His stomach drops. If any of them so much as glance his way, they’ll know exactly where he just came from. Your tent. The only woman’s tent in a unit of 25 soldiers.

He keeps his head down, heat creeping up his neck and to his ears as he feels the unseen stares. The scenario playing out like an idol dating scandal—and dispatch is about to break the story of his life.

Choi Beomgyu, caught sneaking out of her tent at sunrise, he imagines the headline, biting back a groan. He quickens his pace, muttering to himself, "I’m so dead."

"Hold up."

A firm hand clamped down on Beomgyu's shoulder, halting his little walk of shame. His eyes widened as he turned, meeting the sharp gaze of Do-hyun. The older soldier’s eyes flicked back toward your tent—just six steps behind him—then back to Beomgyu’s freshly washed hair.

"And here I was, starting to feel sorry for you," Do-hyun said with a smirk. Beomgyu barely had time to stammer out a response before the tent flap rustled, and you stepped out.

"Do-hyun," Beomgyu glanced at you briefly, but you didn't meet his eyes, locked on Do-hyun instead. "Let’s go, yeah?" you asked, a pointed glare following the words.

Do-hyun chuckled, lifting his hands in mock surrender as he stepped back, releasing Beomgyu. "Sure, sure," he said, his smirk softening into something less smug.

The two of you walked off, leaving Beomgyu standing there, you glance back at him, catching a glimpse of his warm, flustered expression. Do-hyun caught it, muttering, "You’ve got him wrapped around your… finger,"

You didn’t even break stride, your foot shot out, connecting with his shin. Do-hyun yelped, doubling over, he clutched his leg. "Ow! Damn it, I was kidding!"

Beomgyu finally exhales when his tent comes into view, relief flooding his chest. He thought he was in the clear—until he steps inside and sees his three brothers waiting for him.

"Where the fuck were you?" Beomgyu knows he’s not getting out of this easily. This is going to be a long talk.

Beomgyu tells them. Everything. He leaves out the more private details—of course, he does. Some things are just for him to know. He starts from the beginning, telling them, that he just… fell in love with you.

The room goes quiet for a beat before Soobin steps forward, wrapping him in a hug, his voice soft. "Our little Beomgyu’s growing up," he says, sniffing dramatically.

Taehyun follows with a few firms pats on Beomgyu’s back, his smile warm. Yeonjun, leaning casually against the tent post, grins and shakes his head. "You lucky bastard," he teases, but there’s nothing but happiness in his voice.

The four of them embrace, there's a gap in their circle—a place reserved for someone who isn’t there yet but will be soon.

The day passed with a warmth in your chest, fueled by stealing stares and fleeting touches from Beomgyu.

Lunch was a lively affair, shared with Do-hyun, Eun-woo, Beom-seok, Yeonjun, Soobin, and Taehyun. The meal was filled with teasing banter, laughter cutting through the usual hum of camp life. Eun-woo’s soft pats on Beomgyu’s back and Beom-seok’s subtle nods didn’t go unnoticed—they were quiet acknowledgments.

Now, you walk toward the largest tent with your three teammates by your side. Beomgyu’s heated kiss still burns on your lips, the warmth of it fresh, even though it happened only an hour ago. — Captain Joon has called an unexpected night meeting, one that made Beomgyu pout as he agrees to wait at your tent.

The four of you step inside and salute, standing at attention until the captain’s familiar command: "Sit down."

The scene is one you’ve known many times before. Yet, there are absences that can't be ignored. Ji-ho, reporting in via radio, assures that he’ll be here soon with Huening Kai. — And Seo-jun.

“A brand-new mission for us,” Captain Joon announces, his eyes with a glimmer of hope rarely seen these days. “Word is there’s a doctor working on the possibility of a cure. And since Jeonju camp is the most stable for now, he’ll need assistance. This is the most critical priority, and we’ll be the ones handling it.”

Murmurs ripple through the group, surprised with cautious optimism. A cure—it sounds almost too good to be true. You let out a slow breath of relief, the faintest ember of hope flickering in your chest. Maybe, just maybe, humanity has a chance this time.

“We’re leaving in a few,” Captain Joon continues, his voice firm. “No time to waste.”

When you reach your tent, Beomgyu is already seated, and waiting. The moment he sees you, he stands, and you stride toward him without wasting any second, pressing your lips to his in a kiss he immediately melts into, “Are you okay?” he asks softly when you pull away, hands finding your waist.

“Hmm.” You nod, leaning into his embrace, arms wrapping around him. He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “We’re leaving now. Mission came in.”

Beomgyu stiffens. “Right now?"

“Yes.”

“O-okay.” His voice falters, and he swallows hard.

“It might take a while,” you admit, your hands sliding up to cup his face as you look into his wide, searching eyes. “It’s pretty far out, and I—”

“Come back to me safely,” he interrupts, his hands cradle your face. His thumbs gently brush your cheeks. “You don’t have a choice.”

A small smile tugs at your lips. You nod, "I promise.” Reaching up, you unclasp your dog tag, holding it carefully in your hands before slipping it around his neck. His eyes never leave yours, he watches you secure the chain.

“I’ll see you soon,”

He holds you.

It’s been two days since you left, and Beomgyu sits at the table, pushing his food around more than eating it. His mind keeps drifting back to you. The weight of your necklace around his neck is comforting—but it reminds him you’re not here. He sighs.

“There's a car coming!” someone shouts from the outer courtyard. Beomgyu’s head snaps up, his heart skipping a beat. He’s out of his chair in an instant, sprinting toward the commotion, the rest of his members right on his heels. His breath comes fast, uneven, as he skids to a stop outside. His eyes widen, and for the first time in days, relief crashes over him.

“KAI!”

The four of them swarm the youngest member, nearly knocking him off his feet in their excitement. Kai’s laughter echoes through the courtyard as Soobin immediately bursts into tears, clinging to him like a lifeline. Beomgyu hugs him tightly, burying his face in his shoulder, while Yeonjun ruffles his hair affectionately. Taehyun, ever practical, starts inspecting Kai’s arms and legs for injuries.

Everything feels right. They’re together, whole. Now, he just needs you to get back here.

They fussed over Kai like he was the most fragile thing in the world, each of them trying to make up for lost time. Kai explained what happened—they had been trapped, which was why it took weeks to get here. But Ji-ho, just as you’d assured them before, had been capable. He’d taken care of Kai and somehow managed to get him back to them safely.

Later that night, Beomgyu was shuffling on his bed while Kai lounged comfortably nearby. It wasn’t long before the others would join them; Kai had pleaded for a sleepover with his brothers, saying he missed them too much to sleep alone. Of course, none of them could resist.

“Woah.” Kai says, and Beomgyu turned, pillow in hand, to see what had caught his attention. The younger was staring at the two Polaroids on Beomgyu’s bedside table, face lit with curiosity. “Is this real?”

“What, you think I Photoshopped them or something?” Beomgyu laughed, a little sheepishly. He paused, before adding, “I took those with her… on the way here.”

Kai’s eyes flicked back to him, curious. “You’re together?”

“Yeah.” Beomgyu’s lips tugged into a shy smile. “She’s my girlfriend now.”

Kai’s grin was blinding, his low ponytail framed his face as he leaned closer to get another look at the photos. “She’s pretty. I’m really happy for you, Beomgyu.”

You step through the gates of Jeonju camp, your body aching. It’s been a month since you last saw this place—since you last saw him.

Your clothes are filthy, smeared with dirt and the blood of infected, but none of that matters now. The Doctor is alive, the cure is nearly complete, and your mission is done. You made it.

And then you see him.

Beomgyu is already running toward you, his eyes wide and filled with something that looks like disbelief, like awe, love. You can’t stop the smile that breaks across your face, even as your legs wobble beneath you. You start running too, stumbling at first, but your body pushes through the pain, the rest of the world blurring into nothing.

When you reach him, he doesn’t hesitate. His arms wrap around you tightly, lifting you off the ground. He holds you close. You cling to him, shaking from exhaustion and adrenaline and the overwhelming relief of being home—of being with him.

Everyone stops to watch. In a world so cruel, so damned, there’s something warm in the way two lovers find each other again.

A reminder to believe there’s still something worth fighting for.

"See you soon, and take care of yourself," Soobin leans in and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. You nod, offering a small smile. "You too."

His lips curve into that familiar, reassuring smile as he hoists his backpack over his shoulder. "Y/N, stay safe," Taehyun says, stepping in to wrap you in a firm hug. You nod on his shoulders.

"Let’s have ramyeon soon, yeah?" Yeonjun chimes in, his usual playful grin lighting up his face. Without waiting for a reply, he grabs your face in his hands and plants a kiss on your forehead, mirroring Soobin. "I’ll cook for you," he adds confidently, pulling back but keeping his hands on your cheeks.

You can’t help but laugh, rolling your eyes. "Okay, Mr. Married to Ramyeon." He laughs too, giving your cheeks a playful pat before turning to follow Soobin and Taehyun onto the bus.

For a moment, you just stand there, watching the three of them board.

You turn to see Kai looking down at you, his expression shy. He pulls you into a hug, his arms wrapping around you with surprising strength. "I’ll miss you," he sings softly.

It’s been three months since the doctor arrived at Jeonju camp with you. A month later he was in, and the cure was complete. Those who received the shot stopped being targeted by the infected—it was as if the vaccine turned them invisible. No more running, no more hiding.

After countless tests and trial runs, the results were undeniable: 100% effective. The world is still far from healed. There’s so much to rebuild, so much left to do. But this vaccine—it’s a start.

And now, Hybe is taking them back. Back to the world they belong to. Back to the life they’d almost forgotten was possible.

A warm hand slips into yours, and you glance up to meet Beomgyu’s glassy stare. Your eyes flicker to his neck—your dog tags still hang there, glinting in the light. He holds your hands and lifts them to his lips, pressing a warm kiss to your palms without breaking eye contact.

“I promise to come back to you as soon as I can, okay?” he whispers, "I promise."

You know the truth. You’ll never see him again. This is it.

You already have your orders—a mission overseas to distribute the cure, to spread it where it’s needed most. You don’t know when you’ll be back. Or if you’ll be back. The world finally has a chance, but your worlds were never meant to stay intertwined.

“Okay,” you say softly, forcing a small smile onto your lips. You’ll never wake up to the sound of his soft breaths against your skin again. You’ll never walk through the Daegu home he often described with so much warmth, never see the place where his happiest memories were made. A place he wants to go with you.

He’s an idol—a star shining too brightly for someone like you. A celebrity adored by millions. And you’re a soldier, bound by duty to serve your country. He deserves someone gentle, maybe an idol like him, or someone who fits seamlessly into his world. Someone who isn’t constantly called away to fight battles in far-off places.

It made you happy while it lasted.

This dream—this borrowed time you had.

“I love you,” he says suddenly,, and then he’s kissing you. Once, twice—then a third time, slower. He kisses the tip of your nose, and you smile through the tears that blur your vision. You stare at him, taking in everything—the curve of his lips, the softness in his eyes, the way his hair falls... across his forehead. You try to commit it all to memory. “I love you so much,” he says, voice trembling as he cups your face.

“I love you too,”

YEAR 2030

You find yourself in the kitchen, humming softly as the news plays in the background. The aroma of spices and fresh herbs fills the space. You chop vegetables for tonight’s dinner, the rhythm of the task bringing you peace. You always find yourself great with knives, you suppose.

A smile spreads across your face as you feel it—a pair of hands, warm, gently caressing your stomach. A body presses against your back, and a soft breath grazes the curve of your neck. The scent of him surrounds you, and you don’t need to turn around to know who it is.

When you do turn, you’re met with his smile—the one that lights up his entire face, even as exhaustion lingers in his eyes. He looks like he just got home, probably rushing straight from practice, his hair still slightly damp from the shower. Without a word, he drops to one knee, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his cheek against your growing belly.

“I missed the both of you,” he whispers, voice soft and full of love.

You laugh, your hand moving to his hair, your fingers combing through the soft freshly bleached blonde strands. “I don’t think they can hear you yet, Gyu,” you tease gently, your smile tender. “I’m only five months along.”

He tilts his head up to look at you, his lips forming a playful pout that makes you giggle like you’re both still teenagers. Standing, he cups your face with both hands, thumbs brushing your cheeks, wedding band catches the light, whispering of the life you’ve built together. The life you thought was impossible. But he made it—he made it possible.

If he wanted to—he would.

“I don’t care,” he says softly, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. Then your nose. And finally, your lips. His scent, his warmth, the way his heart beats against yours—he's home.

He holds you.

The only sound is the exchanged kisses and the faint murmur of the news on the television.

Following the record-breaking success of TOMORROW X TOGETHER’s latest comeback, member Beomgyu has surprised fans worldwide by releasing his first solo album, The Last Safe Place. The album, deeply supported by MOAs, has already sparked widespread buzz—not only for its musical brilliance but also for the heartfelt inspiration behind it: Beomgyu’s recent marriage.

“This album is a love letter, a reflection of the most meaningful chapter in my life,” Beomgyu shared. “It’s inspired by the warmth, comfort, and love I’ve found in my marriage. I wanted to capture the feeling of having someone to come home to—a place where your heart feels at peace, no matter what chaos the world throws at you.”

THE END.

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naoristerling · 2 months ago

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crossing your orbit

⭐ starring: minghao (the8) feat. vernon & jun

🌙 preview: year after year, minghao’s dreams remain the same. floating aimlessly through the starry night sky, he orbits around a girl he cannot place a name to. his fingers, nails painted black and adorned with silver stars, moved swiftly across the keyboard. He was searching for answers. what does it mean when you have recurring dreams about the same person? what does it mean when that person you dream of is a stranger? what does it mean to wake up floating in a galaxy?

The internet whirred and came back with no solid answer.

tw/cw: starcrossed lovers, playing around with fate, soulmates, hints of mcd, angst, longing, deja vu, abstract storytelling

☁️ masterlist & a/n: hellooo! dropping a minghao fic inspired by both the mvs for orbit and hai cheng.

(⭐)

It was December yet again and Minghao was still dreaming of her.

She was someone nameless, someone that haunted his dreams each night without fail, so close yet always just out of reach. It both excited him and filled him with rage.

“Who are you?” He’d ask each time they met, reaching out to touch her face.

She’d always take a step back before he could reach her.

“Who are you?”

It was the only question she refused to ever answer.

The nameless girl came to him surrounded by stars, spanning further than his eyes could see, as they both floated aimlessly through what looked to be a long forgotten galaxy. The first time he had awoken there, his arms and legs had flailed for solid ground. She had giggled at the sight of him panicking, a soft, tinkling sound that had graced his eardrums and settled into his mind. Her laugh was the only thing that followed him out of the dream and back into reality. He’d find himself twisting around to locate the sound, startling his bandmates in the middle of practice. It probably looked to them like he had lost his mind. Minghao was beginning to think he had.

She was sitting in the center, legs crossed with an expectant smile on her face, as if she had known he’d be there. He wondered faintly if she even existed outside of his mind.

“I feel like I know you.”

She hummed at his comment, flipping gracefully through the air further away from him.

“Do I?” He persisted, flapping his arms clumsily to chase after her.

It frustrated him how little she spoke each time they met. It was always like this, the girl dancing circles around him, spinning gracefully through the air as if it were only water. And Minghao would follow, his movements clumsy and uncoordinated for the first time in his life. He prided himself to be a dancer - yet here he was, floating uselessly as he watched her move like the current.

It pained him that he could never reach her.

(⭐⭐)

It was December yet again and Minghao was still dreaming of her.

It had snowed for the first time last night, as he stayed up late, his face illuminated by the light of his computer. A snoring Vernon accompanied him, the only sound he could hear through his intense concentration.

His fingers, nails painted black and adorned with silver stars, moved swiftly across the keyboard. He was searching for answers.

What does it mean when you have recurring dreams about the same person?

What does it mean when that person you dream of is a stranger?

What does it mean to wake up floating in a galaxy?

The internet whirred and came back with no solid answer.

(⭐⭐⭐)

“Who are you?”

He was back again, floating belly up, drifting through the darkness illuminated only by the flecks of starlight.

She circled him, her hair floating around her face, framing it like a halo. Her white dress flowed and tickled his sides as she swam around him.

“You know who I am.”

He sat up, not having expected her to actually answer. Her voice was melodic, calm and distorted, as if she was speaking through a recording.

“I don’t. I don’t know who you are. Tell me, please. What is your name?”

She merely gave him a melancholic twinge of a smile. “You know who I am, Hao. Or at least, you did.”

There was something about the way she said his name that made him shiver. It sounded so foreign, yet… it brought back a reminiscent flavour he couldn’t quite place his finger on.

“Why do you think we’re always floating in space, Hao?”

He frowned. “Isn’t this where you live?” He had always assumed she had brought him here, transported his mind to find her everytime he drifted to sleep.

She laughed, and the sound warmed his insides. He found himself selfishly wishing to never awaken, if it meant he could hear it again. “Quite the opposite, actually. You live here.”

His confusion must have been evident on his face, for she swam a bit closer, her hair brushing his shoulder. She smelled distinctly of the beach.

“Your mind lives here, Hao. And because you are here, I am here as well.” Her lips twitched, as if something about it had amused her. “I wasn’t always this good at navigating with no gravity.” She told him, and it surprised him to hear. “I was like a fish out of water the first few days.”

She grabbed his hand and pulled him towards a speck of light, one of thousands surrounding them. It hit Minghao that this was the first time she’d let them touch - her hand sending shockwaves up his arm and down his spine. He grasped her hand tightly as she swam them both over, afraid she might let go and be out of reach once again.

“Look.”

He followed her finger, his gaze landing on the spot she pointed to.

“You sleep like a dead man.” She tilted her head up to look at him, eyes twinkling. “And your roommate snores like an engine.”

Minghao stared, wide eyed at himself, sleeping peacefully in bed, his hair tousled and his arm hanging off the frame.

“How is that possible?” He whispered, reaching a tentative hand down to touch. A pool of silver water deflected his fingertips, and the image of himself sleeping evaporated into the starry sky around them.

“Let me show you.”

Her hands left his, and Minghao frantically tried to grab them, terrified she’d abandon him again.

Again. There was something strange about that sentence. Abandon him. Again.

“Let me show you.”

Her hands returned to touch him, her fingertips grazing over his temples, pushing back his blonde and black hair.

(⭐⭐⭐⭐)

The first thing he felt was sand against his bare feet, the heat a startling contrast from the winter snow.

He spun around, searching for the girl. She was gone.

Staring out into the open and vast ocean, he had the unsettling feeling that he’d been here before. Racking his brain, he tried pulling out memories of this place. The mountains in the distance, the blue-green of the water, the cascading waves, the golden brown sand beneath him.

“Xu Minghao!”

He turned, and arms wrapped around his waist.

“I told you not to call me that.” The words felt foreign in his mouth and so did the teasing tone. He couldn’t remember what prompted them.

She looked up and he could feel his heart putter to a stop.

“It’s you.” She was back. But she looked different - younger, her hair short and wearing a thick jacket with a scarf around her neck. He looked down and realized he wore the same thing - his pajamas long forgotten. They looked so ordinarily normal.

Her nose scrunched, a dazzling smile across her face as she looked at him, eyes full of everlasting love. “Of course it’s me, Hao. Who else would hug you so brazenly?”

Who are you?

“Why do you look so sad?” She questioned, pulling away from his arms slightly to get a better look at his face.

He blinked out of his thoughts. “What?”

Her hand pressed against his cheek. “Are you not feeling well?” Her eyebrows furrowed with worry. “Your face is a little warm.”

He shook his head. “I’m fine.”

Who are you?

And why do I feel like I’ve loved you for more than a lifetime?

“Dance with me, Hao.”

His footsteps moved without thought, as if he had done it before, his muscles picking up on a memory his mind could not.

He focused on her, the stunningly bright and magical girl before him, basking in her laughter and relishing the feeling of having her in his arms.

They danced until neither one could dance any longer.

“I’m glad you brought me to your hometown, Hao.” She whispered, her back against his chest as he looped his arms around her, staring out into the glittering ocean. “Hai Cheng is beautiful.”

“You’re beautiful.” Who are you?

She turned in his arms, laughing. “You’re cheesy.”

“You love me.” The words spilled from his mouth with no control, as if it had been a predetermined choice of someone that wasn’t him.

She hummed. “I do love you.”

Who are you?

“Promise me you won’t forget me once I’m gone.”

He blinked.

“I know we’re both still young, but,” She turned in his arms to face him, pulling him closer by wrapping her arms around his neck. The sleeves of her coat brushed against his skin and he shuddered, feeling her cold hands press against his nape. “Is it selfish of me to want you to not forget about me?”

He shook his head. “Of course not, love.” The pet name rolled off his tongue like second nature, although Minghao couldn’t remember the last time he’d ever called someone love.

“I’m scared.”

He looked into her eyes, watching as they roamed his face, searching. His own eyes felt wet with sudden tears.

“I’m scared, Hao. What if there really is nothing after death?”

He gently wiped a lone tear away from her face.

“Don’t be scared.” He whispered, and the memories came rushing back through him, consuming his every being and overwhelming his mind. I know who you are now. “You’ll be in everything I ever do.”

(⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐)

It was December yet again and Minghao was still dreaming of her.

He relished each meeting, looking forward to each time the sun set and being lulled gently to sleep.

He’d long mastered the art of swimming through space, spending his time doing lazy backflips and chasing her through streams of planets and stars. It was no longer a frustrating, confusing prison in his mind, but a second home to him now.

He could remember everything now. Every piece of their time together on Earth and every moment off of it.

He could remember the first meeting, the first kiss, each secret coffee date, each dance under the dim kitchen lights. The first time he’d taken her to meet his family, how he’d cried in Jun’s arms upon reading the doctor’s report. The last kiss, the last coffee date, the last dance under the bright kitchen lights. The funeral, the aftermath. Minghao could remember all of it.

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naoristerling · 2 months ago

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in what FUCKING world is this okay

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naoristerling · 2 months ago

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✨️ WINTER HEPTAGON ✨️

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naoristerling · 2 months ago

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ᴄᴏᴍᴇʙᴀᴄᴋ: ʙᴀᴍʙᴀᴍ

bamesis

reblog if you save

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

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naoristerling · 2 months ago

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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 BamBam icons !

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 like or reblog if you save.

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naoristerling · 5 months ago

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I'm The One

prince!hongjoong x reader

genre: fluff, angst, suggestive

word count: ~24k

synopsis: In the Kingdom of Wonderland, Prince Hongjoong is holding a Selection: 30 eligible candidates from the kingdom competing against each other, one of which would be his wife and the future princess. You, however, aren't one of the candidates, you're only translator to your best friend Arin, which means you get to talk to the prince directly. In an effort to remain in the shadows and pass unseen, Hongjoong only seems to notice you, and he can't help but think you're the one.

You never imagined that you'd one day get to step inside the Palace itself, let alone live in there and get to interact with the Prince, the King and the Queen.

As your friend Arin shook you back and forth with disbelief and excitement in her eyes, it took you a moment to comprehend the situation, and soon you were responding with equal enthusiasm, jumping up and down in circles as Arin yelled loudly about how if this was a dream, she never wanted to wake up.

You laughed, finally hugging her, so happy for your friend. "It's not a dream. Want me to slap you and confirm it?"

"Hell yes!" Arin grinned, her mother shushing her, telling her to act 'ladylike' because she'd be needing that now that she was one of the candidates for the future Princess and Queen of Wonderland.

The Kingdom of Wonderland was in dire need of a distraction- with the unison of two kingdoms into one- Wonderland and Utopia- just a decade ago, the initial happiness and celebrations had long since died down, the people beginning to question the wisdom of the decision, the previous residents of Utopia feeling less favoured since the kingdom was still called Wonderland, rebels growing because there was still discrimination between the Utopians and Wonderers.

Though the King and Queen had long struggled for equality among the residents of the two kingdoms, there had of course been discrimination from both the sides- bound to happen at one point, but the people were now frustrated and rebelling against the royals, because who better to blame?

So the King and Queen had decided to distract the people- to give them something to look forward to, a possible strengthening of the residents of the previously divided kingdoms- the distraction being holding a Selection- an opportunity for random girls to be selected if they met the requirements, which were basic enough (mostly age and specialties)- through which they would stay at the palace and compete for the heart of Prince Hongjoong.

And you were happy for Arin- she was selected to be one of those candidates for Prince Hongjoong along with 29 other girls, which meant that she had a good chance at becoming the future Princess of Wonderland. The only reason you were going to be tagging along was because Arin was bad at Korean- having been raised in an English household, so you were going to be her translator as she learned Korean. This was a drawback, and when Arin finally let you go to hug her parents, you wondered why she was selected- the King and Queen or the Prince, or whoever it was that sorted through the thousands of the girls to select 30 must have seen something special in Arin despite this very large language barrier.

Which meant Arin was special, and you, as her translator and teacher, were going to make sure she would have no problem and would learn Korean soon, for her sake and the Prince's.

Arin's parents told you to stay for dinner to celebrate, and you could barely hold in your smile through the hour, the phone ringing nonstop as Arin's relatives and friends congratulated the lucky girl and her parents, the neighbours stopping by to join the celebration as well, and you kindly excused yourself, saying you needed to prepare everything since you'd be leaving for the capital soon.

"I'm glad you'll be with me- I can trust you with anything," Arin told you as she hugged you.

"Thank you, Arin. I'm just glad for you, truly," you smiled earnestly at her.

Arin and you had met a few months ago when they had moved from Mist Island to the countryside. You were her neighbour, and when Arin realized you spoke fluent English, she immediately announced you her friend, and you had no objection to it- Arin was as sweet as one could be. She looked and felt like literal sunshine, her light blonde hair just adding to her bright personality. You smiled to yourself- she would truly make a great Princess, and you hoped it would happen.

Arin called you as soon as you stepped inside your house, informing you that the people from the Palace would come in two days time to inform Arin about all the rules and regulations that followed this process, as well as process your own application as Arin's personal translator who would be accompanying her basically everywhere she went along with the Prince- unless she wouldn't need you anymore or the Prince dismissed you.

You supposed that would happen sometime too, but you couldn't help but feel awkward about all of this- you would have to tread very, very carefully. You were going to appear nothing more than a shadow, only stepping in when you were needed, and pretending to be the walls or the trees whenever you were following Arin. No one could notice you.

As you picked the books out of the shelf, a picture slipped in from one of your books, and you bent down to pick it up, smiling when you saw that it was the only photo of the Prince that you had, in which he must have been around 10, where your parents had made you stand with the Prince as they clicked the photo, both of you with scowls on your faces.

Prince Hongjoong... He was an interesting character. He had great leadership skills, was great with speeches, didn't seem stiff. He was a natural, and people admired him for that. Girls swooned over his charisma and boys wished they were him. The fact that you would be seeing the Prince in a week... it meant so much to you, since the fact that your parents had served in the castle and had been on good terms with the Queen and the Prince, and had always wanted you to meet the Prince- properly. Not when you two were sticking out tongues at each other from afar.

You wished your parents were alive to witness this- you, finally meeting the Prince, though you laughed at the thought that if your mother was alive, she would have made you enter the Selection itself, just like any other mother of a daughter in this kingdom. You looked at the side, at the frame that contained the family picture, and picked it, slipping it inside the bag, then hesitating before slipping the photo of Hongjoong inside too.

One week. Your life would change.

You fell asleep wondering what the Palace was like and what the Prince was like.

---------------------

"Do I look horrible?" Arin asked you for the 15th time.

"If you ask me again, I'm going to say yes, and then you can start crying," you were pinching the bridge of your nose now, "For the hundredth time, Arin, you look beautiful. Happy?"

Arin grinned, making you grin back- you couldn't help it. She really did look beautiful in her cream coloured gown, diamantes at the neckline, her blue eyes brighter than ever. She had never looked better- the ladies at the parlour had polished and enhanced her natural beauty, not overdoing the makeup and keeping everything simple and elegant, just like Arin wanted.

"Alright, get your sleep- you look like you're gonna faint."

"I will," you pouted, closing your eyes shut.

It had been one hell of a week- two days from when Arin was selected, an official had visited, explaining the guidelines- you, as the translator, had explained everything- the guidelines being a set of rules she had to follow.

"You are now considered the property of Wonderland. You must take care of your body. You have to fill the several forms explaining the guidelines- any failure to comply on your part will result in your immediate removal from the Selection"

It started with you explaining the long list of rules, the official translator present making sure you were doing a good job, rules that informed her that the Selection could stretch as much as years but considering that it was Prince Hongjoong, it would last a few months only, that Arin could not leave the palace of her own accord once she arrives, that she would have to be dismissed by the Prince herself, not even the king or queen could force her out, though they could tell the prince that they did not approve of you, that the prince himself would arrange for her meetings and not her, that she could not stress or steal from other candidates, that romantic relationship with anyone else from now until the end of the Selection would be considered treason and would be punishable by death.

Though you were feeling weirded out by the set of strict rules, it looked like it made absolute sense to Arin seeing how her eyes were set and gleaming as she fiercely nodded along. You contained the urge to squeeze her cheeks at that. You just hoped she understood that it wouldn't be too easy.

You had three hours session with Arin each day- but they weren't very fruitful, especially when Arin was as excited as you'd ever seen someone ever, and you both couldn't help but forget all about teaching and learning Korean and instead memorizing the names of all the other participants and guessing who'd be nice, who'd had a chance, who'd get eliminated first, and having a good giggle over it. You supposed Arin needed these giggling sessions more, considering how stressed she must be because the weight of this was huge as well.

Today, the two of you had been accompanied to the airport after a teary goodbye to Arin's parents and annoying little brother who was just glad he had 'one more room to himself'. After reaching the capital where Arin greeted the crowd and even stopped to sign some autographs and take photos, you both were taken to the parlour first where even you were scrubbed and polished- literally. You told them it made no sense that you had to go through this torture as well, but the ladies just hushed you, saying that you had to look 'refined' since you would be making appearances literally everywhere too, and you realized it did make sense.

You were dressed in a comfortable deep blue suit, thanking heavens because they told you no dresses for you (unless the occasion called for it) to differentiate between the candidates and you, and you couldn't be happier. You wanted to feel sorry for Arin who would be wearing dresses and heels from now, but she looked so beautiful and happy that you realized she didn't need your pity at all- she was living her best life.

"You're smiling," Arin whispered in your ear and you opened one eye to glare at her.

"I'm smiling because I'm not the one in a dress and high heels right now," you told her.

The other two girls that were in your limo on your way to the palace were watching you both interact in English silently- not many in this kingdom spoke the language. But you had, in the beginning when you all sat inside the car, introduced Arin to them, and they had asked you if it would be tough for Arin to communicate with the Prince and if you though that could cause the elimination sooner, and you assured them that Arin was a quick learner and would be able to communicate without your help soon, which wiped the growing smirks on their faces.

You supposed it was going to be competitive- very, in fact. Some fought for the crown, and some fought for the Prince. Arin would be one of the few who genuinely liked the Prince. You hoped the Prince wasn't foolish enough to not notice that.

When you arrived inside the palace, you couldn't help but wow, the surprise echoed from the other girls in the car. The palace was a beautiful structure of coloured glass windows and deep brown rock, a vintage vibe to it even if it was built to be modern. The gardens with the greenest grass you'd ever seen was adorned with flowers of various colours and fountains every few feet.

As you got off the car, you were accompanied inside to the waiting room, the other girls already there, and Arin nervously fidgeted with her hands, biting her lips.

"You'll ruin your lipstick," you patted her shoulders, "You're probably not meeting the Prince right away, so relax."

"Doesn't make me less nervous," Arin laughed a bit, and you smiled hoping it would assure her.

The doors opened and an aged woman entered, glancing at each one of the candidates, and you stepped a bit behind Arin, the woman nodding at you and acknowledging you.

"My name is Sophie, and I will be your guide, watching over your progress and your lessons as you spend time in the palace. Please accompany me to the dining hall- I'm sure you all are famished. We can have a chat over tea, after dinner."

The girls erupted in satisfied sighs, you quickly summing up what Sophie had just said to Arin, and she smiled, the two of you moving along with the rest of the selected to the hall.

The dining hall was one generous hall, with food of every kind and desserts of every shape, making your stomach swoop. You had to remind yourself that you were only here because of Arin, smiling to yourself because you had to thank Arin. After all, when could you have had this opportunity to have so much food to select from!

"I know we're thinking the same thing," Arin laughed as she told you to sit beside her, and you did, figuring it would be easier to keep up with the conversation and translating it for Arin.

The girl next to Arin- Byeol, you recalled from the list of selected you had memorized- said hello, and Arin said hello back, asking how she was. The girl peeked forward to say hello to you too.

"Where are you from?" She asked Arin.

"From Mist Island. My mother... English. My Korean not good right now."

You patted Arin's back in encouragement- she had done well.

"Isn't it hard to be here? How will you even interact with the Prince?"

"It won't be too hard," you butted in with a polite smile, "Arin is able to understand better than she can speak, and I'm sure she'll catch up in no time. She's a quick learner."

"I hope so," Byeol let out a nervous laugh, "I mean, the competition's tough as it is. Wouldn't want her out because of language barrier."

"There are worst reasons to be kicked out," you smiled, hoping she'd get your point. You quickly summed what happened to Arin, who nodded in agreement, and Byeol only shook her head and smiled, as if she had the upper hand here.

Though Arin, being the epitome of kindness, didn't mind anyone's attitude one bit, you wanted to smear the chocolate pastry Byeol was eating all over her face. How dare she think she had the upper hand just because she was a native speaker!

You decided to do the observing as well as you ate, taking in the girls. It was so easy to figure them out, except the few that looked mysterious. You knew that as soon as they would get the first look at the prince, you'd realize if they were here for the prince or the crown.

After the dinner where you definitely did not hold back, Sophie got up from the main seat, clearing her throat and going in a speech of why the girls who were selected all possessed a worthy quality that had the king and queen vouching for them, and that they were to prove themselves in more ways now that they were here, and learn the ways of a lady who one day might bear the crown.

After the very long speech which you translated as she spoke, the girls clicked their glasses and had a drink, after which they left for the night. One guard stationed to accompany each girl stood and you bowed to your guard in greeting. He escorted you two to Arin's room, where three maids waited to attend to Arin, and the guard told you that your room was right next to Arin's, so she could call you whenever she needed. You thanked him, going into Arin's room first.

You helped her settle in with the maids- Sana, Momo and Mina, all very cute young girls, gushing about how they were so happy that they were assigned to Arin since she seemed like she was the sweetest of them all, and you assured them that Arin definitely was. They told you that language wouldn't be much barrier here since Mina knew basic English thanks to her lineage, and you sighed in relief, excusing yourself when Arin threatened to kick you out because 'I have this under control, go rest! We have a big day tomorrow!'

You took a deep breath as you entered your room- as big as Arin's but pretty much empty. Your bag was already placed at the edge of the bed and as you walked to it, you realized you didn't even have the energy to change anymore. You washed your face after taking off your coat, suddenly feeling overwhelmed.

Your parents had spent most of their life in the palace, you raised by your grandmother who lived in the town near. You'd visited the palace as a kid quite a few times, playing with the other children, but you'd never seen the Prince close enough. You, as a kid, wondered just why he couldn't simply play with kids his age.

As you sat on the bed, you suddenly missed your parents immensely. If they were alive, you would have been in their room in the palace right now. Feeling an ache in your chest that was only growing, you got up, drinking a glass of water, but when that ache didn't settle, you decided to get some air.

There was a guard stationed between the distance of your and Arin's room, closer to Arin's, and you informed him that you were going to the gardens to get some air. Since you weren't one of the selected, you had the freedom to roam around the castle (as much as a visitor could) and go outside whenever you wanted, as long as the guards allowed it.

You almost rushed outside, sighing in relief when you breathed in the fresh air- the air truly was different here. You walked around, recognizing the familiar fountains from your childhood, recalling that you used to mark the fountains as a kid as a 'proof' that you had been here.

Smiling to yourself, you bent down and looked under the basin, spotting the scratches- an eight pointed star. You went to the next fountain, and the next, your smile growing bigger as you found all those stars.

"Looking for something?"

You were glad your reflex action wasn't a scream like Arin's, just a jerk, and you immediately straightened to look at the source of the sound-

You struggled to keep your scream in.

It was none other than the Prince standing in front of you.

"Your Highness," you immediately bowed, cursing internally at your state- one too many buttons undone casually, sleeves rolled up, your feet in pink slippers.

"And you are? I'm sorry, I can't recall all the names of the girls right now-"

"Oh no, I'm not one of the Selected," you said and the prince raised his brow, "I'm one of the girls' translator- if you recall."

"Oh," Prince Hongjoong nodded, smiling, "I hope you find the palace comfortable."

"Of course," you smiled, standing awkwardly, not knowing what to do, taking a moment to scan him- his silver hair shining with a slight pink tint, his posture good and straight and you mirrored it automatically, and it looked like he was still in his uniform.

"So, what were you looking for?" Prince Hongjoong smiled.

"Nothing- it's... embarrassing," you laughed a bit.

"I once lost my father's ring in the garden and spent the whole night looking for it myself, telling the guards to warn me if he came. Nothing could be worse than that."

You couldn't help but laugh at that- the Prince wasn't as uptight as he had seemed to you- he was joking around so freely. You supposed he had a similar nature as Arin's.

"I used to visit the palace when I was young, my parents served here," you admitted, "The kids and I played around here, so I'd leave some marks on the fountains every time I visited."

"Oh," Prince Hongjoong's eyes flashed for a brief moment, "And where are your parents now? I'm sure I've met them."

"You have," you nodded, smiling sadly as you looked at the moon- a half-moon, "They passed away in the rebel attack 2 years ago."

The Prince's face fell, and he took a deep breath, "We lost many loyal subjects that night. I'm sure they're in a better place now, and are watching over you and are proud."

"Thank you for your kind words," you smiled.

"So what's the mark?"

"The mark? Oh-" you realized, bending down again and pointing, "Eight-pointed star."

"Eight-pointed star?" Prince Hongjoong bent down as well, examining the scratch, "And you marked most of the fountains?"

"Uh, I may just be realizing that I damaged the king's property..."

Prince Hongjoong threw his head back and laughed, "Kids do most of that, though we'd have to look into it if we catch you scratching another star on one of the fountains," he winked at you.

Once again, silence fell as the two of you stood side by side, watching the water in the fountain. It was you who decided to break the silence.

"If you don't mind me asking... how do you feel about meeting 30 potential candidates tomorrow?"

"I'm very stressed, actually, which is why I came here to take a breather," Hongjoong admitted.

"Oh, I should leave then-"

"No, no, I didn't mean it like that. I'm glad to talk to someone who is not my mother or father right now," he laughed awkwardly, "Actually, it's pretty intimidating. The girls will be expecting something from me during their course of stay, but I'm not sure I can give them anything."

"You realize you are not required to, right?"

"I know," he nodded, "I would just feel bad if they leave broken hearted. I'd feel like an ass."

You let out a short laugh, the Prince joining. "Well, the girls... they're new to this too. They're all pretty excited. You don't have to figure them all out right away. Take your time, roll along... you'll find yourself used to it soon, I hope."

"Thank you," Prince Hongjoong smiled at you, "And what about the girl you'll be translating for?"

"I'm probably biased when I say this but Arin is the sweetest of them all," you smiled, "I've known her for long now. She's the kindest soul, wouldn't hurt an ant if she could manage it, but she's also very strong. She knows where she stands. I'll do my best with the language barrier, but... I feel like you'll click with her well."

"You look like you admire her," he said, and you nodded, "I guess if I click with her, language wouldn't feel like a barrier anymore."

"Exactly what I mean," you grinned at him, forgetting for a moment that he was the Prince and not your friend, until you found him scanning your face.

"I should go," you said, "I just needed some air, and the guards were kind enough to allow it."

"You can come here whenever you like, I'll let the guards know," the Prince said, and your heart swelled in gratitude.

"Good luck for tomorrow," you smiled, "Whatever your decision, I hope you'll end up being happy."

"Thank you, truly," the Prince nodded in acknowledgement when you bowed before beginning to leave.

"I never got your name!"

You turned, laughing a bit at how he'd shouted this after you were a good few feet gone. You told him your name, waving at him before leaving with a smile plastered on your face.

-------------------

You told Arin all about how you accidentally met Prince Hongjoong before any of the girls, and Arin was all squeals and laughter, the maids struggling to make her stay in place as they did her hair.

"How is he like? Is he as handsome as he looks in the pictures? Does the new hair suit him?"

You rolled your eyes- Arin was literally the Prince's fangirl. It truly was a dream come true for her to even be in the proximity of the Prince, let alone be a candidate for his future wife. "I guess the hair suits him- it sort of looks pink with the light."

"Every hair colour suits him," Mina sighed happily, "But I'd personally love it if he goes back to his natural hair colour."

You nodded- the Prince was blessed in that department.

"So? Is he more handsome or more pretty?"

"I don't know," you shifted, looking in the mirror as you fixed your tie, "He seems to be both? I don't know how he manages that. But Arin, please remember what I told you before we came here, okay?"

Arin saluted, smiling. You'd had a nice talk with Arin the night before you'd arrive here, where you'd make sure that Arin understood that being a fan of the Prince was a separate matter, that she had to be completely unbiased now that she was here. Her responsibility would be that of a crown and a princess, and she had to keep in mind that.

"But what if I don't... like him like that?" Arin had asked you.

"I think not everyone is gonna like him like that in the first place," you had assured her, "And I'm sure the Prince would know that. I think you should tell the Prince if you think you won't be happy with him."

"All done!" Mina announced, and Arin got up from her chair, twirling in the deep blue gown that made her eyes look the brightest blue, her curls pinned with pearls and falling like a waterfall down her back.

The guard knocked on the door, announcing that it was time to go, and Arin squeezed your hand once before the two of you went outside, waving goodbye and thanking the maids, who wished Arin best luck. You were led to the Women's Room, where one by one the girls entered, all dressed in beautiful gowns that they couldn't stop touching nervously, and as you stood back and watched them, you realized that though they knew they were each other's competition, they also felt a kind of sisterhood, especially when they tucked someone's stray hair behind or wiped smudged makeup off each other-

"Ugh, why am I the only one wearing pink here?" One of the girls- Nara, who had to be the visually most attractive one present here, huffed as she looked at the other girls' dresses.

Of course there were girls like her too here. You smiled inside- she would get used to it soon, you hoped.

The room immediately quietened when Prince Hongjoong entered, all regal with his slicked back hair and navy blue suit, the girls all curtsying while he smiled, Sophie standing right beside him.

"Good morning, ladies."

The air immediately felt different, the girls now straightening and arranging themselves. The Prince smiled, "I'd like to introduce myself to you all, so if you don't mind, one at a time I will be calling you. I won't take much of your time- do forgive me if I'm a little slow with names."

As he said that, he surveyed the room once, his eyes landing on you and his smile getting wider- you weren't expecting that so you just smiled back, hoping no one else had noticed.

The girls giggled and grinned, waiting by the couch on Sophie's instructions, one by one moving to the Prince who stood by the window with a drink, what seemed like casual conversation flowing between them. It only lasted for a few minutes each with the girls returning with nervous smiles.

"I wonder what he's asking," Arin fidgeted.

"Maybe he's just wondering what's your favourite food," you scoffed, making her laugh a bit.

Before you knew it, it was Arin's turn, and she squeezed your hand before the two of you went to where he stood, Arin saying hello with a smile, you doing the same and standing beside Arin.

"Arin? You look lovely today."

You knew Arin understood that, and she bowed a bit, replying with a thanks. Prince Hongjoong smiled, "I heard you're English. I know a bit of it."

You translated that to Arin, and she replied in Korean, "Really?"

The Prince nodded, "Where are you from?"

"Mist Island, my parents had an English lineage, we moved to this kingdom before I was born."

The Prince looked at you and you translated that for him as he nodded, "Mist Island is beautiful. I've only been there once when I was little, but I hope to visit again. Maybe you could show me around."

Arin noticed the flirtatious smile on his lips as you translated that, and she beamed, "It would be an honour to show you around my home town."

"But you live in the countryside now, right?"

As you translated that for Arin and she nodded, you realized the Prince had done his own research as well- probably on every girl.

"Well, it's been a pleasure meeting you, Arin. I hope we can get along well despite this obstacle."

Arin got that, bowing to the Prince and you did the same, finding his eyes beaming as he looked at you. "You're doing a good job. I hope you find the palace comfortable."

"I do," you assured him with a thanks.

"I didn't get to say this last night, but," Hongjoong sighed as he ran a hand through his hair, "If you wish to visit your parents' room or anything like that, you can talk to Sophie. I've already talked to her."

You were surprised- was the Prince this generous or was this an exception? You shook the thoughts off, thanking him for his kindness and he told you both to join the girls in the dining hall after he announces what's next.

As you both went back, you told Arin what he had just said, who only sighed happily, saying something about how generous he was and how he was a born Prince. You shook your head, smiling as you reached the others, Arin immediately surrounded by the girls who asked what they talked about, and Arin told them in broken Korean, the girls laughing and correcting her mistakes.

Prince Hongjoong walked to the center of the room, clearing his throat, "If I have asked you to move to the dining hall, please follow Sophie out, the rest of you can stay here."

The girls looked at each other in nervousness, most of them following Sophie out, you and Arin along with them, and as you entered the hall, the King and Queen greeted the girls, everyone including you curtsying before taking their seats and digging into the food.

"I wonder why he asked some of them to stay," the girl beside you, Nayoung, said, "Did they do something good? Maybe he wants extra time with them."

"No idea," you muttered, "He wouldn't eliminate someone so soon, would he?"

Nayoung looked at you, "I doubt he would."

But he did. Just like that, 22 girls remained out of 30. And you wondered if Arin really had caught his attention or if he was just giving her a second chance because of the language barrier.

The next morning at breakfast table, everyone thought so as well. Why Arin was kept, why girls like Nora or Nayeon were eliminated, who clearly looked like they had potential. The girls ate nervously, all except Arin, and you had to keep yourself from laughing as Arin moaned after each bite of chicken. Prince Hongjoong sat at the end of the table, watching Arin with amusement in his eyes.

"Lady Arin? Enjoying the food?"

Arin almost dropped her fork, looking at you and you translated.

"Food delicious, but cake-" Arin waved at the dozens of pastries and sweets, "I make better."

The table erupted into laughter and Prince Hongjoong straightened. "Really? Is that a challenge?"

You laughed as you translated, and Arin nodded enthusiastically, the Prince looking at you as if to ask you if Arin was joking or not.

"Arin is an exceptional baker," you were beaming proudly as you announced, "And she accepts the challenge."

"Well," Prince Hongjoong, "I guess I'll have to arrange for a date in the kitchens- mother would be the most happy to learn I'll be stepping in there!"

Everyone looked at Arin in awe for securing her first date with the Prince, and as you conveyed that, Arin smiled and bowed her head a bit in acknowledgement. You felt proud at that moment- a very sisterly pride as you grinned at Arin. She had done it!

The Prince told you both after the breakfast that he would arrange for a suitable time and let you know, and by the time he left, you and Arin were practically jumping up and down, in a very unladylike manner- for Arin. Sophie let you both have your moment before she cleared her throat and told all the girls to write letters home and let them know how you were holding up. The girls sighed collectively in relief, rushing back to their rooms and while Arin went back, you decided to take that moment and ask Sophie about your parents.

"Ah, so it's you," Sophie's face changed as she smiled, "I remember the lot of you. It was always troublesome when the kids gather. Hongjoong would always be at one of these windows watching you all play enviously."

Now that was news. You always thought as a kid that the Prince was a stuck up snob who wouldn't bother to play with kids like you- but apparently all this time he wanted to join?

"You remember me?"

"Not much, but just the few kids playing in the gardens- it has been a memory I look back to sometimes. I was the one who'd always tell you all to keep your voices down, if you remember."

You gasped- it was her! Sophie laughed as you put a hand over your mouth in disbelief, bowing once in recognition as Sophie waved you off. "I remember you!"

"Of course you do," Sophie smiled, "I'll let one of the guards accompany you to your parent's room-"

"Not today," you hesitated, and Sophie looked confused, "I... I need some time. Can I visit once I'm ready?"

Sophie seemed like she understood, "Of course, dear. If you need anything, do let me know. Your mother was the most kind to me. The Queen misses her dearly."

"The Queen does?" You frowned.

"Don't you know? She was one of the queen's personal maids."

"Oh... They kept their work very private," you smiled. Of course she was. There was a reason she sometimes looked guilty when she slipped something about work- or the Queen- in front of you.

"Good to hear that," Sophie said.

"I'll take my leave now," you thanked her and left the room, feeling overwhelmed by the information and the weight of all this.

----------------

The next morning, all the girls including you were having breakfast with the royal family, casual conversation flowing between everyone, the girls around Arin asking her if she had her date yet, Arin shaking her head no repeatedly with a smile.

You were just on your third chocolate cookie when you were interrupted by the sudden opening of the doors, the guards shouting 'rebels!' and the room erupted in chaos.

"To the back of the room, ladies, now!" Prince Hongjoong got up, all except two guards leaving while the two shut and bolted the door from inside, the King putting a protective arm on his wife leading her to a corner, a few girls following them on instinct, and you immediately grabbed Arin's hand, telling her that rebels were inside the palace.

Arin was positively scared and you shushed her, telling her that now was the time to maintain her calm if she wanted to get Prince Hongjoong's attention, and she straightened her back a bit as she followed the girls to the back of the hall. Some of them were quietly sobbing, while some were shaking. It looked like not many had experienced such a situation.

You saw Prince Hongjoong pull down the shutters of the windows one by one and instead of following the girls, you decided to do the same, going to the other end of the room and drawing the shutters down, until there were two windows between you and the Prince, and at that moment you caught a flying object in your direction-

"Prince Hongjoong, duck, now!"

You only had time to say that as you drew your arms in front of you and crouched down, a sigh of relief escaping you when you saw the Prince follow your lead, the sound of a crash following soon after, the shards of broken glass spraying around you.

You heard Arin's scream, glad when you saw one of the girls hold her back protectively, and you got up, waving to her to indicate you were alright. The Prince got up, shutting the remaining two shutters- the window right next to you was broken.

"Are you hurt?" Prince Hongjoong grabbed you by the shoulders as he scanned you.

"Are you hurt?" You scanned him, and he shook his head, looking at the broken shards of glass.

"You're hurt," he noticed a shard of glass buried in your palm, blood trickling down your hand. He took out his handkerchief, and before he could pull the shard out, you stopped him, taking it out yourself and wincing slightly- it was a few inches big. You let the prince tie the handkerchief.

"You should have been careful, I thought I told all of you to get back to the room."

"The girls did," you replied, "I had to do something."

"I clearly addressed 'ladies'," Prince Hongjoong smiled at you, "You fall there too."

"Sorry," you held back a grin but the Prince noticed.

"Get there, please. I need to make sure the situation is okay before I get to the girls," he looked back once at the huddled girls, beckoning you to join them before going to the guards and speaking to them.

You joined Arin who hugged you, "I thought you were hurt badly!"

"Nothing much," you shook her off, "You know my instincts are good- I saw it coming, literally."

Arin rolled her eyes and you smiled- good. She was relaxed now. "You holding up okay?"

"Yeah, I just never expected something like this, I guess," Arin bit her lips, looking at the girl next to her, "Should we comfort them?"

"You should," you smiled, "I'll... see. I should too, I guess."

Arin looked at you knowingly and you gave in- she knew exactly what was going through your head, that some of the girls were sobbing more than they needed so maybe the Prince could come and console them.

And he did, patting every girl's back, telling them it was okay, that they were safe. Some girls even dared put their heads on his chest as they sobbed, and you noticed that the Prince was clearly nervous as he comforted the girls. When he reached Arin, you were proud that she didn't cry and he smiled at you both.

"You should go to the hospital wing after all of this is over," the Prince said, "You might be needing stitches."

"It's just a small cut," you said, but Prince Hongjoong narrowed his eyes at you.

"It's an order."

You couldn't resist rolling your eyes this time and he laughed at that, you internally slapping yourself because how dare you roll your eyes at the Prince? But he didn't mind, telling you both to take care of yourselves as he went to the next girl and the next.

You did go to the hospital wing after everything settled, the nurses cleaning the wound and bandaging it saying it wouldn't need stitches, and you went to Arin's room after that. The girls were going to have dinners in their room since they were a bit shaken after the events of today, and you decided to have dinner with Arin.

"Do you think the rebels come here often?" Arin asked.

"I remember dad told me that they came at least three times a year on average," you said, "Some people aren't happy with the Selection, thinking the royals are neglecting the problems of the people, so I guess this was bound to happen."

"I hope it doesn't happen again," Arin shivered, "I'd hate anyone to get hurt."

"I hope so too," you suddenly weren't hungry anymore.

You decided to go for a walk before sleeping, just to clear your head, dressed in your deep purple silk pyjamas. The guard were now recognizing you and let you out without question, and you walked along the rows of flowers, your head blank, until you noticed a figure strolling casually as well.

"I guess you needed to clear your head too?"

It was the Prince.

You nodded, bowing once, "Are you... alright?"

"I am, thank you for asking," he said, and now that he was closer, you noticed that he was still in the same clothes, the coat off now and sleeves rolled, hair a beautiful mess. "How's your wound?"

"Oh, it's okay," you showed your bandaged palm, "It was a small cut after all."

"I've been meaning to ask you," he shifted, "How did you know to click the shutters close? Not everyone gets that on first try."

"Ah," you nodded, "It's my dad- he taught me how to when I visited the palace once, in case rebels came when I was present."

The Prince nodded, "When I told Sophie about you, she told me who your parents were- I was trained by your dad, in fact."

"You were?" Your jaw fell open- now that was news.

"I was, I knew your dad well," he smiled, "And your mother too. They were very close to us. I'm surprised you didn't tell me earlier."

"I... I didn't know," you admitted, "They always kept their work a secret from everyone, just said they served in the palace. I guess they didn't want anyone asking for favours or something, not even their own daughter."

The Prince noticed how confused you looked, "There must have been a good reason for that. They always talked about you. They were immensely proud of you- your dad was always comparing me to you as well."

"And how exactly? I don't think I can compete with you, Prince."

"Call me Hongjoong," he said, putting his hands in his pockets, "He said you were a better learner than I was. He said, and I quote, 'my daughter could flip you as if you weighed nothing but a sack of potatoes- an empty one at that'."

You couldn't help it, you laughed out loud at that. "I cannot! I mean, I could, but I'm not that good. I'm sure he only said that to get you to learn quicker."

"It worked," Hongjoong laughed, "So he trained you too?"

"Just a bit, mostly defense," you told him.

"Have you visited their room yet? Did Sophie update you?"

"She did, but I... I can't go visit their room right away."

Hongjoong paused a bit before continuing to walk. "Is there a reason?"

"I... I just need some time. Now that I'm here, it feels like they're still running around, mom nowhere in sight like always, dad with the guards while I wait for them to finish their work so we can go home. Plus, with all the new information about their jobs..."

"I understand," Hongjoong assured you, "Take your time. It must be hard for you."

"Thank you," you passed a smile, "Will the rebels be back anytime soon?"

Hongjoong realized you must know a great deal about rebels, "They might come back sooner than we expect. They're not happy with what's going on these days. It'll take some time to calm them down."

You nodded, suddenly aware of the time you'd taken. "I'm sorry- I'm always interrupting your alone time-"

"No, it's perfectly fine, I appreciate this," Hongjoong said, and you narrowed your eyes at him, making him laugh.

"I truly do. I like it when I have someone to talk to, to sort my thoughts out, but there's not many I can talk to. If you'd like... can we be... friends? Can we talk like this sometimes? No pressure though, don't feel obliged to accept just because I'm, well, the Prince."

You shut your mouth before your jaw could drop- did he really ask you to be his friend?

"You don't have many friends, do you?"

Hongjoong put his hands up in surrender, and you pretended to consider. "I guess we can. If you were friends with my dad... you should know I'm very much like him."

"Bad humour and no regard for authority? Can I take my offer back?"

"Too late, Prince," you grinned.

Hongjoong sighed dramatically, asking you if you wanted to take a seat with him and you nodded, sitting on the bench and watching the sky. "Can I ask you why you're holding this Selection in the first place?"

Hongjoong looked at you once before sighing and looking back, "I didn't want to, actually. The thought of 30 girls with their futures depending on my decision is more intimidating than I thought. But it was a tough time for everyone, and the Selection was killing two birds with one stone- providing a distraction and hope to the kingdom, while hoping I find someone who can stand me here."

You looked at him, "You think those girls can't stand you?"

"I know most of them will be changing their minds once they get to know me and this lifestyle more. It's more appealing from a far, as you must know."

"You do have a point," you nodded, "It must be tough. I'm..."

"Don't say you're sorry, I know that if you're like your dad, you're enjoying my misery."

You passed him a guilty look as you both laughed, and you shook your head, "I really hope you find someone you'll like in there. Someone who can actually stand you, the Prince and... Hongjoong. Both."

Hongjoong nodded at that, a little surprised, "Not many people know how I am really like."

"If you want, I can tell the girls you're the type to become jealous really quick."

Hongjoong frowned, and you grinned, "Sophie might have told me how you used to watch us kids play outside with a little scowl on your face-"

"I was a kid!" Hongjoong laughed out loud, "Of course I wanted to join you all!"

"You didn't tell me this the night I told you I was one of those kids," you looked at him pointedly.

"Should I really have told you that I was the one you called 'stuck-up brat'?"

You gasped at that, Hongjoong silly dancing victoriously while you looked away, ashamed. "It's okay, we were kids. I was envious, and you thought I was, well, a stuck-up brat."

"You're not denying it."

"You think I'm a stuck-up brat?"

"I don't know, are you?" You raised a brow, and Hongjoong grinned mischievously.

"I guess you'll find out soon."

The two of you stared at each other, not even realizing until you heard one of the guards walk past, the two of you suddenly drawing out of your trance, and you both got up, suddenly feeling aware.

"I should go," Hongjoong laughed awkwardly, "It's been nice talking to you."

"Same," you told him, brushing your clothes, saying bye and beginning to go back, pausing when you felt a hand stop you by the arm.

"Sorry, I just wanted to say... don't tell about our... interactions, to anyone- not even Arin. I don't want the other girls to give you a hard time because they'll think you're competition or something like that."

"Of course," you said, "I'm only a shadow here, don't worry."

You thought there was something sad about Hongjoong's smile as he said bye and went back.

-----------------

Hongjoong remained busy handling kingdom affairs while you were busy with Arin as you gave her language lessons, kept her up to date with everything, sat with her through the etiquettes lesson and guided her along. Everyone was getting used to conversing through you, and you were glad that no one could hate Arin- she was always so bright, always smiling and happy and clearly meant no harm, but you also understood that part of the reason was because the girls clearly thought Hongjoong would let go of Arin sooner or later.

But everyone sure was envious of Arin's date, scheduled in the evening before dinner. Arin sat in her room in pants and a blouse, wondering which recipes she should try.

"Tell me you'll help me too," Arin narrowed her eyes at you.

"Oh, I wouldn't want to interfere in your date," you grinned slyly.

"You witch!" Arin laughed, "You know we work better together."

It was true- Arin had taught you quite a few recipes and she was usually instructing you to do the menial tasks while she worked on the main ones to save time.

"Will you bring some for us?" Sana sighed dreamily, "It's been forever since I tried food that was not from the palace."

"I know right," Momo slumped in the couch, "I really want to go out and taste something new."

"Maybe you all should come and help us too," Arin said nervously.

"No, never," Mina scolded Arin, "Stop being nervous! The Prince will be here any second."

As if on cue, a knock sounded, and the maids immediately got up in a flurry, gushing over how Arin looked one last time before opening the door, letting Hongjoong in while they left, grinning.

"Ah, so you're prepared," Hongjoong scanned Arin- it was his first time seeing Arin so casual, yet she still looked elegant enough.

"Prince Hongjoong," Arin curtsied.

"Please skip the formalities and call me Hongjoong when we're alone," he smiled at the two of you.

"You're going in the kitchen in that?" Arin asked, and you kept in your laughter as you told Hongjoong what she had said.

"Now what's wrong with this-" Hongjoong looked down at his very polished black jacket, his prince attire- his usual attire.

"Do you think you're just going to be sitting back and watching her cook?" You asked Hongjoong, "You're helping."

Hongjoong's jaw dropped and as you told Arin what you'd said, she grinned, giving you a thumbs up, and Arin went ahead, snaking her arm in his and saying, "Lead the way."

"If I had known I was going to be the one doing the work," Hongjoong looked at you, "I would have maybe changed the location of the date and accepted Arin as a better chef."

"Which is why this was a surprise, but you should have figured it out," Arin said with a wink, making him laugh.

He led you both to the kitchens, where the staff greeted the Prince, Arin and you, saying this was a first time someone would have a date in the kitchen.

Arin asked for aprons, helping tie Hongjoong's and you smiled at how comfortable they looked with each other. Arin asked for the chef and looked at you as she said, "We're making brownies and scones. Should I leave the brownie batter to you?"

"Of course," you nodded, "I'll stay close by- you and Hongjoong can work on the scones."

You translated that to everyone and the chefs went to get the ingredients, Arin following them as she picked some of her own while you rolled your sleeves.

"You should roll your sleeves too," you said to Hongjoong who was watching you, "And do keep your arms tucked in as you work."

"Alright, ma'am," Hongjoong saluted, following your lead.

"So have you never baked before?"

"I have never cooked or baked," Hongjoong said, "I was always too busy."

"Well, first time for everything," you smiled, "Don't worry, Arin is a sweetheart. Even if you do something wrong, she'll tell you you did excellent with a smile."

And sure enough- Hongjoong was supposed to be following Arin but he was way too clumsy, which earned a good laugh from everyone, but Arin kept encouraging him- in Korean, thanks to the last lesson you'd given her where she'd specifically worked on phrases she'd probably need. It was cute to watch Hongjoong struggle with English while Arin struggled with Korean.

You were standing beside Hongjoong, not too far so you could help if they mistranslated anything, and the few cooks were following your lead, asking you about how Arin knew so much about baking- which you told them was thanks to her aunts being professional bakers.

"That looks way better than mine," Hongjoong looked at your batter as you dropped the chocolate chunks in the bowl, "can I have the chocolate?"

"No," you continued pouring the rest of the chocolate in, but Hongjoong slipped a hand in and picked a chunk, grinning in victory.

"Focus on your batter, Prince," you scoffed, "You don't wanna embarrass yourself on your first date, do you?"

"I'm afraid it's too late to worry," Hongjoong sulked as he fiddled with the spoon.

"Now we bake," Arin announced, smiling at you two and wriggling her brows at you, and you told her you just needed 5 more minutes to be done. Arin helped Hongjoong with the rest of his batter, and Hongjoong finally sat and watched as she set the tray and put it in the oven.

"Good riddance," Hongjoong muttered, and you kicked his leg from under the table before going to pour your own batter and tossing it in the ovens.

There were enough scones and brownies for everyone in the kitchen- a few people only, which meant you could take some back to the maids too. The three of you sat side by side as you watched the scones and brownies rise dreamily.

"I love this smell," Hongjoong muttered, "Maybe I should come in the kitchen when I want to relax."

You were sitting beside Arin so you quickly told her what he'd just said, and she smiled, "I used to do that. The smell alone made half my worries disappear."

"I can see that," Hongjoong smiled.

"The kitchens are open to you lot whenever you want to come," the head chef announced, "Especially you, Arin. I already know these are going to taste amazing. We could learn a thing or two from you."

Arin grinned, "Maybe I could learn from you all too- the food is amazing here. Thank you."

Hongjoong noticed how everyone was looking at Arin with admiration- she truly was humble and kind.

One by one the bells started to ding and Arin and the chefs picked out the trays from the oven, setting it on the tables to cool down, Arin swatting Hongjoong's hand away when he tried to pick one, scolding him because it was hot and 'a Prince should be patient' at which Hongjoong rolled his eyes and slumped down as he glared at the scones and brownies.

"Come on," you teased, "you're sulking way too much."

"Just because I'm a prince doesn't mean I can't," his sulk went deeper, making everyone around laugh.

Arin fanned one of the trays, making Hongjoong's face lift in hope, and when she finally touched the food to make sure it wasn't burning hot, she picked a scone and a brownie, setting it on a plate and adding a few toppings before handing it to Hongjoong.

"Go ahead and try," she smiled.

Hongjoong looked at you for confirmation and you nodded, and he finally picked the fork and took a bite of the scone, then a bite of the brownie, Arin eagerly waiting for him to react.

Hongjoong looked at the chef first, who raised his brows, then at Arin, then at you, and then slid his plate away.

"This is too good to eat."

Arin's face fell but you laughed, telling her what he had just said, and she almost cried, scolding Hongjoong for making it look like he hated it, at which he laughed, digging into his sweets again, everyone else passing scones and brownies too, compliments flowing for Arin and you didn't need to translate any of that- their faces said enough.

"For the maids," Arin picked some scones and brownies and asked for a box, and Hongjoong smiled.

"Maybe we should make these again for dinner one day. I'm sure the king and queen would love these too."

Arin gasped in surprise, but when Hongjoong nodded to assure her, she smiled, "Maybe."

"I should compliment you too, after all, you made the brownies," Hongjoong looked at you.

"This was Arin's recipe, I only followed the instructions," you told him.

"You know, my mother says that nothing tastes the same when made by different people even when the instructions followed remain perfectly same- the taste of one's hand- or heart," Hongjoong smiled, "you got that too."

You rolled your eyes but you were clearly pleased, "Thanks. I guess I do."

After eating until you all felt like you would throw up if you ate any more, Hongjoong thanked Arin for this experience, saying he'd never forget it and he promised to come to the kitchen more. Arin told him he didn't need to, but he could come if he wanted to relax. He walked her to the room, leaving with a kiss to her cheek that had her jumping up and down after he left, and you laughed at how she was going on about her 'fantasies fulfilled'. Entering, the maids waiting, you waved the boxes in front of them and they thanked Arin graciously before eating and moaning because these were too good.

The news of Arin's date got to the girls too, and you heard them talk about it the next morning, asking Arin how the Prince was like, if he was too uptight or if he was funny, etc. Arin truly felt like a star.

You sat through the history lesson, learning things yourself as you conveyed everything to Arin. It was the history about how the kingdoms of Wonderland and Utopia had united, how they always used to be at war for one reason or another, until about 49 years ago when the two had been united by the king, peace settling for a few decades, but the people growing restless with every passing year as discrimination grew.

Sophie asked how the rebels could be handled, and the girls had interesting answers to give- ranging from getting rid of the rebels altogether to actually finding a solution, such as a hearing from the rebels where they talk about the problems with the royal family and figure something out together.

Two days passed by, Hongjoong spending time with all the girls whenever he could, the girls who hadn't had a date yet getting insecure and nervous about it, until it was finally the day for the report- the first time the girls would have a live talk and reveal themselves to the public after getting in the palace.

Sophie had done you a favour and let you in on the script for Arin's questions, so she could prepare her English accordingly, and you were glad for it. Though you would be present and guiding her along, it would really help if Arin already knew what could be asked.

The maids insisted on getting you in a dress, but you strongly rejected- you really did not want to steal Arin's spotlight. You would only distract the public if you appeared the same as Arin. And even though Arin pouted and asked you (something you couldn't usually refuse), you had to shake your head no this time.

"Just dress me in the best suit," you winked at the maids, "I'll be good with that."

So while Arin had dressed in a deep red gown with lots of frill and pearls, her hair half tied with curls framing her face, you had dressed to match in a deep red three-piece suit. You absolutely loved it and thanked the maids for coming up with this- the pearls near the neckline were cherry on top. Your hair was slicked back, pearl earring in your ears the only jewellery you had along with a watch. You had matching heels to finish your outfit.

"We look more like a couple than I could ever look with Hongjoong," Arin grinned.

It was true. You grinned back, "We'll get Hongjoong to match with you one day and see who makes the better couple."

Arin slapped your arm playfully, and then you were escorted by the guards to the room where the broadcast would be conducted, and you had to blink your eyes a few time to adjust to the lights and the colours of the selected girls seated in the front. You both went inside, sitting side by side in the second row, Byeol next to you.

"Arin looks gorgeous, but you? Holy hell, woman."

"Is it too much?" You frowned- you hadn't expected to grab attention.

"I'm just saying you look great- if you weren't in a different dress, you could easily pass as one of the selected," she smiled, focusing her attention back on the crowd.

You thought about it- would people think the same after seeing you on television? Probably not. You were only a translator, you'd be sitting in the shadows as you translated everything to Arin- and you hoped she wouldn't need you.

The girls were pretty nervous, one even having to rush to the toilet because she felt like she was going to throw up. You looked at Arin- she seemed excited but the way she was unconsciously cracking her knuckles gave her away.

"If you crack your knuckles while you sit there I'll break your fingers," you warned.

Arin laughed, "You're such a mother. But if I do, feel free to poke me. I'll do the breaking myself."

You chuckled, the lights getting dimmer, and the host Kang Yeosang entered, his hair in a blonde mullet, and looking as beautiful as ever.

If there was one man you thought looked perfect, it was Yeosang. He looked too perfect to be real, and you were probably more nervous about getting to meet your favourite celebrity and host of variety shows or talk shows than the interview itself.

"I think I'm gonna have to shake you one or two times during the interview," Arin said as she closed your mouth shut with a finger, laughing at how star-struck you were after seeing Yeosang, and as you glared at her, you pointed to the girls- you weren't the only one with a hanging jaw.

"Good evening, Wonderland!" Yeosang announced, looking as much a prince as the Prince himself in his deep purple suit, "Tonight, we'll be getting an inside scoop from these young ladies I know you're all dying to meet. We'll learn how things are going with Prince Hongjoong, we're just going to ask! Let's welcome... Miss Kim Kahi from Utopia City!"

Kahi moved elegantly from the first row to the stage, greeting Yeosang with a curtsy before settling down. She was composed and did well, so did the others, but it was pretty predictable. Some girls were acting shy on purpose- you'd never seen them like this and you knew because you were usually the one sitting back and watching everyone objectively. Some were clearly nervous but Yeosang joked a bit, which helped them calm down.

Arin was called when there were two girls remaining- the two of you got up, you immediately rushing to the backstage from where you would seat yourself as Arin would walk to the stage and greet Yeosang. You stood waiting until Arin was ready to sit, which was when Yeosang shook your hand too, and you prayed your hand wasn't sweaty as you smiled.

"Miss Arin from Mist Island, a unique case here because of the language barrier- I hope you're holding up well?"

Arin looked at you in confirmation and you nodded, and she smiled as she looked at Yeosang, "I'm doing well, thank you for asking."

"Ah, you sound good! Do we have your translator to thank for that, Miss...?"

You told him your name, "Arin is a quick and eager learner, I'm sure she'll get the hang of this is no time."

"Definitely! So, Arin, tell us, have you had a date with the Prince yet?"

"I have, we made cake in the kitchen," Arin was gleaming, making Yeosang chuckle.

"Now that's something unheard of! So tell us- is our Prince as good at baking as he is at running the kingdom or does he need practice?"

Arin looked at you with confusion this time, and you quickly told her what he'd said, "He's very good! Pro!"

As she said that, she looked at Hongjoong sitting in the front row who was laughing and shaking his head, making the crowd laugh as well as the cameras panned back and forth.

"I think the Prince disagrees, now which one of you is lying?" Yeosang narrowed his eyes dramatically, and you told Arin, Arin instead asking you to explain.

"She says she would never lie about this," you tried to stop the grin appearing on your face.

"Let's hear from the Prince," Yeosang looked at Hongjoong, who picked up his mic.

"Arin refuses to admit I'm a bad chef, but I did exceptionally well thanks to Arin's instructions. She's an excellent guide and baker!"

"Ah, that's great to hear," Yeosang smiled, "So Miss Arin, how do you feel about the Selection?"

Now Arin got the question, and she spoke confidently, "I'm honoured to be a part of it, no matter the outcome. Whoever he marries will be a lucky person. And..."

Arin turned to you as she spoke, and you cleared your throat, "Arin says that Prince Hongjoong is an amazing person, and she hopes he finds a good partner through this process, no matter who that is."

Yeosang smiled warmly at the two of you, "Thank you, Miss Arin. We hope to see you again in the next report, good luck!"

With that, you and Arin took off, you going backstage while Arin stood for a few pictures before leaving the stage. As you made your way back, the girls grinned at you. "You two were amazing. Arin did such a good job, I feel happy for her."

"Thank you Byeol, Nayoung," you smiled.

After the interviews, you all were led to have dinner in the hall, where Hongjoong joined, applauding everyone for doing a good job with the interviews. He was going from one girl to the other to have small talk after dinner, and then he finally reached the two of you.

"Good job, Arin!" Hongjoong smiled and Arin thanked him, "You did better than I expected."

"You should thank her," Arin said, but the two of you shook your head.

"It was all you, Arin," you said, and Hongjoong nodded.

"A little bit of her too, but all you," he laughed.

Arin smiled, and Hongjoong looked at you, "Are we walking in the garden tonight?"

"Are we?" You cocked your head- was that an invitation? Hongjoong only smiled.

"I'm not supposed to tell you already, but there's an assignment coming up where Arin would have to present something verbally. Just dropping a hint- foreign visit taking place soon."

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that," you zipped your lips, squeezing Arin's hand as in 'wait'.

"I'll be taking my leave then, have a good night, Arin."

"Good night," Arin smiled and Hongjoong took her hand and kissed it before taking his leave, leaving Arin watching him dreamily.

"Snap out of it, woman, we have work to do," you clicked your fingers in front of her, "Assignment. Foreign visitors, you'll have to present something. Don't tell anyone- he only told us."

"Why did he only tell us though?" Arin frowned.

"He probably wants you to do a good job," you put a hand on your hip, "Which means you might be one of his favourites right now."

"Wow... that's good to hear," she let out a breathy laugh.

"Also... I should tell you this, but Hongjoong knows me from our childhood too- not much," you sighed, "Remember how I told you I used to visit the palace often? He's seen me around."

"Ah, that's so cool!" Arin gushed, "I wish he'd known me too."

"That's not cool in any way," you muttered, flashbacks of your dark past- especially the fact that he knew you used to call him a stuck-up brat flowing in your head, and you shook the thoughts away.

"I'll tell you more later- I found out that my mother was the queen's maid and father was Hongjoong's personal trainer- tell no one, okay?"

"Who would I tell, you're my only friend," Arin rolled her eyes, "But how come you did not know this? They didn't tell you?"

"That's what I keep asking," you bit your lips, "Why am I the last person who knows this?"

----------------

You tried to ignore the excitement you felt simply because Hongjoong had very casually invited you for a walk. You supposed that now that you were 'friends', you'd be hanging out more. Plus, it really looked like he needed someone like you right now- someone who could understand Hongjoong but understand the selected girls too, help him sort his thoughts out.

What you did not know was the thoughts that ran through Hongjoong's mind when he saw you at the broadcast room.

Hongjoong knew it was somewhat wrong, seeing how there were literally 22 girls who all dressed up for him, in absolutely beautiful gowns- and they did look beautiful. However, when you had walked in with your slicked back hair dressed in a suit... he couldn't take his eyes off of you.

He would never say it out loud- there was a goddamned Selection going on just for him. But you were stunning, you were funny, you knew more about how the palace and this country ran than any of the girls here, and Hongjoong had one question in his mind that he wanted to ask you tonight.

Now that part was tricky. He would have to remain as casual as possible, and he knew you were very clever and would realize if something was off too.

Hongjoong thought it was crazy- you two hadn't known each other for two long, but the way you clicked... he supposed you were just one of those people who he'd felt like he'd known forever. And even if you were going to be just friends, he really appreciated that.

He arrived in the garden first- or so he thought, until he saw you playing with a flower in a corner and he took in your appearance- you were still in your dress, only your heels changed.

Hongjoong had to shake his head- this was downright cruel. He was sure you didn't realize the effect you had on him tonight but maybe the deities did and they were punishing him for having these thoughts when 22 girls were waiting for him.

As if you'd notice him watching you, you turned to him, smiling and waving at him, unknown to the fact that he had been here and thinking about you. Hongjoong neared, taking a deep breath.

"Long night," he sighed, "You didn't change."

"Neither did you," you pointed out, and he looked down as if he hadn't realized.

"I was busy," he laughed, and you raised a brow.

"I was busy too."

"With what?"

"Just this and that," you sighed, "Helping Arin calm down after all the excitement, playing a game of cards with the maids. I didn't realize it was so late until I went to my room, and I wouldn't want to keep our busy prince waiting now, would I?"

"I love how you always find a way to mock me with my title," Hongjoong shook his head.

"So," you turned to him, beckoning him to walk and he did alongside you, "Is there a reason you called me for a walk?"

"Can't friends do that?" Hongjoong pouted.

"True," you shrugged, "How was tonight then? Like anyone?

"Well," Hongjoong took a long time to think, "Arin certainly did a great job. Kahi was a natural. The people love Nayoung. Byeol is well educated."

"I asked about who you liked," you gave him a pointed look, and laughed at how torn he looked, "Too early to ask?"

"Yes," Hongjoong sighed, running a hand through his hair, "I don't know if I like any of them like that. I don't feel a spark with anyone- maybe there's no such thing as a spark."

"There is," you assured him, and he raised a brow.

"Have you felt it?"

"I felt it, tonight," you smirked, watching his expressions change into confusion.

"Who, exactly, are you talking about?"

"Well, who do you think? Come on, it's easy. Who looked like a Prince tonight?"

"Me?" Hongjoong pointed at himself, and you laughed.

"I said looked like a Prince. It was Yeosang, of course. I can't believe how handsome he is! The camera really doesn't do justice to his beauty, and that's crazy because he looks so beautiful even on tv."

Hongjoong groaned, "Come on! Yeosang?"

"And why not?" You put your hands on your hips, "Can't a girl dream?"

"Sure. Dream along, I won't stop you," Hongjoong waved a hand in dismissal, "For a moment I thought there was a special someone back home."

"Nah," you smiled, shaking your head, "Never has been, and at this rate, never will be."

"Why? I think you're pretty fun to be around."

"You think that because you have no one to talk to and I'm your best option."

"Not at all," Hongjoong shook his head, "I know a lot of people. I'm not lying."

"Okay, let's accept that I'm fun and likable. I never liked anyone. Well, maybe if Yeosang would give me a chance..."

"I'll banish him if he looks at you funny," Hongjoong mumbled, making you snort in a very unladylike manner, "But I was wondering... did you enter the Selection?"

"Me?" You looked at him, and he nodded, "No, I didn't."

"Why?" Hongjoong asked, and you scanned his face.

"A number of reasons, but the main one being the lack of self confidence I have. The probability of getting picked, and then getting picked after the Selection... it's too little and too stressful. Why would I do that to myself? Also, I don't think I'm princess material."

"Well," Hongjoong began, "I can understand that you thought you didn't stand a chance, but I think... I think you would have done well."

"Oh, come on," you slapped his arm lightly, "Stop making fun of me."

Hongjoong grinned, and you shook your head. You'd just never fantasized about Hongjoong or being a princess. You were glad for Arin though, who had. Hongjoong was staring at you and you caught him.

"Would you have liked me to enter?" You wriggled your brows, and Hongjoong pretended to throw up, making you mutter a few curse words under your breath.

"Anyways," Hongjoong exhaled, "I'm thinking of announcing an elimination tomorrow. I've talked to every one of the girls. I don't want to keep hanging this matter."

"Ah, do take your time. It's your future, after all."

"Of course," he sighed, "Wife. Friend. Partner. I don't know what I'm looking for, but I hope to find it soon."

"Don't worry about the sparks, by the way," you said, "you should really get to know the girls. Sparks will come if you click with them and begin to like them."

"I suppose so," Hongjoong said.

"Can I ask you something?" You said after a moment, and he nodded, "Will I be going home tomorrow, with Arin?"

"Isn't this cheating?" Hongjoong asked, and you rolled your eyes.

"I'm not telling Arin. Come on, as a friend, I should know if I should sleep after packing my bags or not."

"Well, you're not going. I like Arin more than most of the girls there- she's easy to be with. Plus, I think I'll keep her anyway if it means I get to eat those scones and brownies anytime-"

"Prince Hongjoong, are you out of your mind-"

"I'm kidding!" Hongjoong laughed, "About the brownie part. Though I certainly wouldn't mind- I'm just saying that I'll keep Arin for now. And don't worry, if I decide to send her home, I'll let you know beforehand."

"Can you promise me one thing?" You said, and Hongjoong stopped as he looked at you. "Promise me that if you don't like Arin, you won't keep her hanging in here. You'll let her go. She's my best friend, and I don't want her to live here longer if she would be living in false hope."

"Does she really like me?" Hongjoong asked, and you shrugged.

"I'm still trying to figure that out- if she's still in her fantasy phase or if she genuinely likes you. But can you please consider her, despite the language barrier?"

"Of course, I am already," Hongjoong assured you.

"Thank you," you gave him a nod, "I know I shouldn't be asking this of you- you're the Prince, for heck's sake-"

"I'm just Hongjoong when I'm with you, so... you can ask anything."

You looked at him in gratitude, trying to ignore the way your heart flipped when you heard that. "Thank you. Should we go now? It's pretty late."

"We should," Hongjoong said, and his face twisted into surprise when you tucked the little flower you had been playing with in his hair over his ear.

"You look pretty," you laughed, beginning to walk back.

"Hey," Hongjoong said, and you turned, "I don't think I told you... but you looked really beautiful tonight."

"Me?" You pointed at yourself, making him laugh a bit as he nodded.

"Yes, you. I like this look on you. I mean it."

You made an impressed face as you playfully ran your hands over your hair as if to slick them back, making him laugh before saying bye and taking off.

As you lay in bed, you tried to ignore the fact that he'd call everyone pretty in the hall just a few hours ago, but-

He'd called you beautiful. And he had said that he meant it.

You wondered what life would have been like if you had entered the Selection, and wondered if you were better off like this.

------------------

The next few days were the busiest days you'd all seen so far- with the royal family of Halaland visiting Wonderland, it was all hustle and bustle in the palace, and you'd think the palace had months to prepare as they set the tents, as decoration was done and champagne of the highest quality was brought out from the cellars.

You'd all learn that the royals of Halaland were easy to offend, so the selected girls especially had to be super careful with their etiquettes and manners, but they were no boomers as well and loved to enjoy so you had to charm them. Natural charmers like Kahi and a few other girls were pretty relaxed compared to girls like Sohee and Wonyoung who were naturally shy and reserved.

As for Arin... she was both nervous but also confident now that everyone including Hongjoong had praised her for her natural charms, and you were glad she finally understood that she just needed to be herself.

This time, you had to give up wearing the suit, since it was a very formal event, and your maids came up with the brilliant idea combining the elegance of a suit with a dress- a sheath surplice neck asymmetrical dress with sleeves that reached a bit below your elbows, the length of it just above your knees. You felt strangely exposed after wearing suits and pants for so long, but you couldn't deny you felt good- the pale mauve colour of it seeming more purple when you shifted in the light- you couldn't help but admire the dress.

"You guys always outdo yourselves," you breathed as you looked at yourself in the mirror, paired with heels of the same colour, "How did you even come up with this colour? It's so nice!"

"Wait till you see Arin," Momo smiled, "She'll look different tonight- we've had enough of her innocent looks."

"Ooh," you raised a brow, "I'm looking forward to that."

"Come on, let me do your hair," Mina made you sit, tying your hair in a loose bun with messy curls falling, pearls in your hair, a pearl bracelet the only accessory you would be wearing tonight apart from your usual diamond studs.

"Dressing you up feels like you're one of the Selected too," Sana smiled as she patted your arm.

"Even I start to feel like it- you guys do too much to me, it's really unnecessary."

"Please, where's the fun if you hang beside Arin looking as plain as a mouse? Everyone deserves to look stylish."

You shook your head, the maids taking you to Arin's room who was already done getting ready before you, and you audibly gasped when you saw her in the midnight black off-shoulder dress with a silver belt on the waist, shimmery stars growing more as you looked down, her hair left straight and open, pinned at one side, her eyes bold and smokey.

"Now, now," you scanned her up and down, "Who is this? I don't think I recognize this sexy lady."

"Shut up," Arin laughed, "Is it too much?"

"I think it's perfect. Hongjoong won't be able to look away from you after this. And if he does, I'll assume he's blind."

Arin smiled half-heartedly, and you assumed she was nervous, asking her if she was feeling okay.

"Let's just go, I need to go over the things with the girls too," Arin said.

You reached the great hall where some of the girls were already there, and the way they gasped when Arin came, hugging her and complimenting her, you felt a little teary eyed. After every elimination, the remaining girls seemed to get closer too despite the growing competition, and now that Hongjoong had eliminated 6 more girls, they were down to 16.

"You look wonderful too, I'm glad I'm seeing you in something that is not a suit," Nayoung scoffed, and you scoffed back playfully.

"Ladies!" Sophie came hurriedly, dragging all the girls to the entrance so they could receive the guests, "Remember- chins up, backs straight, and don't forget to smile."

The girls stood in two rows, in front of each other. The sounds of laughter and chatter grew stronger with every passing minute, and you stood on your tiptoes to peek at the guests, noticing Arin doing the same, and you poked her from the back.

"Stand straight, miss," you ordered, and she gave you a guilty smile.

The ladies and the gents started to enter, all in the most elegant dresses you'd ever seen, mostly shades of blue and blacks, the girls all greeting with hugs and kisses, getting compliments with a smile. It seemed that the royal family of Halaland was very interested in the Selection.

As the guests dispersed, greeting the queen who looked regal in her own black gown, the king and Hongjoong were at the farthest corner of the hall, and the girls all dispersed around him, hoping to catch Hongjoong's eye.

You and Arin stood by the table, you sipping on the champagne which tasted as expensive as it must be, while Arin was looking around nervously.

"Go ahead," you told her, "I think you're good enough in Korean to have a basic conversation. Or should I tag along?"

"You should, just in case. I don't wanna embarrass myself," Arin pouted.

"Arin, honey, you're adorably sexy today and if you fumble a bit with words, that would only add to your charm tonight. I'll tag along, lead the way, wherever you wanna go."

Arin grinned as she led the way, the two of you walking around until one of the younger guests, who you assumed was the Princess of Halaland approached Arin.

"It's so good to see you in person," she said in English and took Arin's hand, "You're my pick, just so you know."

Arin gasped, "Really? Thank you!"

"You're cute," she grinned, looking at you, "And you're definitely doing a great job since she's still here."

"Thank you, your Highness," you bowed.

"Call me Miyeon," she said to the two of you, "Should I put in a good word for you with Hongjoong?"

"Thank you, but I think Hongjoong should like me without anyone telling him to," Arin smiled.

"That's wise," Miyeon grinned, "Do you like Hongjoong?"

"I was more of a fan before the Selection, but I'm trying to really get to know him and how the palace works."

"See?" Miyeon looked at you, "I had a reason I picked her."

You gleamed at Arin, "See? You're doing great, Arin."

Arin laughed, and Miyeon told you she could take it from here, that she wanted to get to know Arin and would introduce her to the royal family. You thanked her, and though Arin looked nervous, you told her it was a great opportunity to interact with everyone with you not by her side, and Arin reluctantly but happily went with Miyeon.

You watched the two of them go away like a proud mother, going back to sipping your champagne, watching the girls interact with Hongjoong one by one too, Hongjoong all polite smiles.

"Penny for your thoughts?" A deep voice sounded, and you looked at the source- a tall boy around your age with a sharp face and even sharper eyes.

"Just observing," you said, "And you are?"

"Prince San of Halaland," he bowed, and you gasped, curtsying and apologizing for not recognizing him.

"I'm not one of the Selected girls, by the way, in case you want to interact with them."

"Oh no, why would I want to interact with the ladies who are only interested in Prince Hongjoong?" Prince San grinned, making you shrug as you smiled, "I saw you on the TV, you know. With Miss Arin. My sister Miyeon is crazy about her, and with the amount of times she watched her clips in front of me..."

"Ah, is that so?" You couldn't help but grin at that as you looked at Miyeon and Arin talking like long lost best friends, "They do look like they have been apart for too long now."

"Indeed," San huffed as he put his pockets and shook his head at the way his sister was chatting with Arin, all laughs and giggles, "How's job as a translator?"

"I'm actually Arin's best friend before translator, so I'm good," you told him, offering him a glass which he took, "And what brings the Prince to a measly translator?"

"Well," Prince San looked at you as he drank, "This mere old Prince wanted a break from girls in frills."

You scoffed, "I could have been in frills tonight too."

"And I still would have approached you," his gaze was... flirty. You raised a brow, and he laughed.

"I'm saying I could use good company," Prince San said as he scanned you up and down, and you suddenly felt uncomfortable-

"Prince San," a familiar voice sounded and you almost sighed in relief when you saw Hongjoong, "Long time."

"Long time," Prince San hugged him, "How's the Selection treating you?"

"I don't even know how it's treating me," Hongjoong said, finally looking at you and smiling, "You're alone."

"Arin was snatched by my sister," Prince San put a hand up as in surrender, "She's a bit of a fan of hers."

"Ah, I forgot you both were fluent in English. It's good for her to hang out without a translator for once," Hongjoong looked at you.

"Definitely, I had to push her, but she really needed this," you smiled.

"Well, you've got eyes, Prince San," Hongjoong pointed to a group of older ladies calling him over, and he rolled his eyes, muttering a bye before taking off.

"What did he want?" Hongjoong asked you, and you raised a brow at his tone.

"Nothing, he was just talking."

"Be careful of him- he loves to talk to people and then use them for 'distraction'," Hongjoong sighed, and you nodded- you'd got that vibe from him too, "Anyways, I never thought I'd see you in a dress."

You rolled your eyes, "It had to happen one day."

"I'm not complaining, you look as beautiful as always," Hongjoong said.

"Well, thanks, I guess. It's definitely a change I needed tonight- I think it would have been odd wearing a suit tonight, no one's wearing one."

"Exactly," Hongjoong nodded, "Can we see you in a skirt next time?"

"Stop teasing me," you almost slapped his arm, remembering you were very much in public, "Don't you have other girls to go to and tell them they look beautiful or something?"

"No," Hongjoong smiled distantly, and you frowned.

"Hello, you're still in the Selection. Go. The girls are literally waiting for you to notice them, and do compliment everyone at least. They all probably spent the whole day dressing up for you."

"Ugh, it's so pressurizing!" Hongjoong waved dramatically, and this time, you did push him forward, sending him laughing as he walked away to the nearest girl, who eagerly snaked her arm in his.

The rest of the event was mostly boring for you, making small talk with anyone who came to greet you, trying to avoid Prince San, and running into Hongjoong again, who said he needed to charge himself for at least two days after this event. Food was served and you finally sat with Arin and Miyeon as you ate, mostly listening to their conversation, adding a joke or two in between.

The night was still young, and you needed to take a breather. Telling Arin you'd be back, you went to freshen up a bit, deciding to go outside and take a breath of that chilly fresh air. You took a turn and nearly bumped into someone-

That someone being Hongjoong, your faces incredibly close as you both took ahold of your footing, finally breathing when you stepped away.

"Careful when you walk, we could have crashed rather painfully."

"What's got you in a rush?" You asked as you tried to calm your beating heart.

"Nothing, just coming back after taking a breather," he ran a hand through his hair, "I guess you're in need of one too."

"Absolutely," you said, "See you around, Prince."

With that, you took off into the night, leaving Hongjoong staring at your back for a good minute before he shook his head and walked back inside.

The rest of the night was as uneventful as it could be, Arin and Miyeon engaged in a heated conversation and you couldn't help but smile at the two- good for Arin. She had little to no conversation with the selected girls and you really liked that she was talking to someone finally.

As for Prince San, he kept coming back to you after every half an hour, apologizing for making you feel uncomfortable, saying he just wanted good company since he would be here for three days. So you accepted, the two of you finding yourself talking about anything and everything, from childhood stories to habits.

"Don't tell anyone, but I really adore cats," he smiled.

"That's surprising, but nothing to be ashamed of. You should tell everyone this, in fact. Don't you have pet cats? If I were you I would have opened my palace gates for all cats."

"Miyeon's allergic, so I can't do that," he sighed, looking at Miyeon and smiling warmly.

"You two seem close."

"We're practically best friends. We tell each other everything."

"That's sweet," you smiled, "What do you do other than performing your princely duties though?"

"Well, I like working out. I like to play with my cats- stray cats, in the garden. I also like to sing in the shower."

"You should hold a shower concert sometime, your cats could be your audience," you said, and he laughed out loud, putting his hand over his face- a habit of his. "Also, I have a question- I'm curious about something."

"Ask away."

"Do you and Miyeon have as much responsibility as Hongjoong, or is it less of a burden to you?"

"It's definitely less, my elder sister is in line for the throne. In fact, don't tell anyone, but we were considering their marriage before the Selection."

You gasped, "Really? Did they know each other or like each other?"

"They know each other, but not really- they've only met twice or thrice. But considering how things are in this kingdom, we decided against the unison of our kingdoms."

"Ah, so it just happened."

"I think it's sad," San shook his head, "I can't imagine marrying someone I don't know or like. I can't imagine having a Selection either- I don't know how he's handling it."

"I know. I think it's sad that he doesn't have the freedom to date and explore. What if he doesn't like any one of them?"

"Let's pray he does," San said.

-----------------

The next day was chaotic, to put it lightly.

Kahi had basically announced that she and Hongjoong had kissed last night. Nayoung admitted that she had kissed him a few days ago too.

The reactions ranged from jealousy to anger to curiosity- what was it like? Who kissed first? How did it feel?

You supposed it was bound to happen sooner or later, though you were a bit disappointed in the obvious choices- Nayoung being the palace star and Kahi being people's favourite.

However, you were more surprised when you conveyed all of this to Arin and she showed little reaction.

"Did you already know?" You asked.

"I didn't," she admitted, saying nothing, but you didn't spot disappointment on her face either, so you shrugged it off.

Arin told you that she would be spending more time with Miyeon since she was here for only two more days, offering you to join but you turned it down. You didn't want to be the third-wheel and you really wanted her to talk to someone else as well. You were glad that she had a friend now.

You went to Arin's room, chatting with Momo, Mina and Sana, catching up with palace gossip such as what the selected were up to, who was whose favourite, etc. After a game of cards, you went to your room and slumped on your bed, wondering if it was time to finally visit your parent's room.

You were still conflicted, but you decided to go to the kitchen and steal something while you would decide.

However, you were surprised with the sight of Hongjoong sitting by himself in a corner, watching the brownies in the oven bake, the rest of the kitchen busy with their own work, paying no heed to the Prince.

"How long has he been coming over?" You asked a woman you knew was the assistant chef.

"Every other day, basically. Sometimes he eats, sometimes he just watches us, poor thing," she waved her hand in a motherly nature.

As if Hongjoong had felt your stare, he turned, his face lighting at the sight of you as he patted the spot next to him.

"What are you doing here? Don't you have a kingdom to run or girls to kiss?"

You cringed a bit, wondering if you sounded jealous, but he just put his face in his hands, clearly ashamed. "I guess everyone knows now."

"Well, it was bound to happen," you shrugged.

"I didn't mean to. With Nayoung... she kissed me at our date. And Kahi... I was really frustrated and- ugh, I feel ashamed."

You grinned, "No need to. You can kiss whoever you like."

Hongjoong clapped when the oven went off, and you got up to take the brownies out, placing them on the table you sat.

"Enough about that, why are you here?"

You sighed, "I was wondering if I had grown the balls to visit my parent's room."

Hongjoong choked on his brownie, muttering 'language'. "Do you want me to come with you?"

You looked at him, wondering if that was what you needed. Someone to be with you. Someone who knew.

"I don't know... I don't know if I am ready."

"Well, if you're here, you're ready," he told you, "Let's go after eating."

You watched him eat his brownie as he gazed at the rest dreamily. You wondered how you two had become so comfortable with each other- to the point you'd forget he was the Prince. Hongjoong caught you staring.

"What are you looking at?"

"You, obviously," you scoffed, shrugging awkwardly as you took a bite, "Just wondering how we got... here."

"I know," Hongjoong smiled, "I didn't expect a friend out of the Selection."

After eating another brownie, Hongjoong told you to wait while he got the keys from Sophie, and you sat trying to muster up your courage.

You were finally going to go to their room and not find them there, only their belongings left. You didn't know what to expect.

Hongjoong led you to the other side of the palace, stopping in front of a room you assumed was your parents. "If you really feel like not going in, I understand."

You shook your head, "Rather go in then turn around from here."

He smiled, putting in the key and turning, opening the door.

The first thing you noticed was the sunlight illuminating the white sheets on the bed, and it looked like someone had packed their belongings. You stepped in, Hongjoong behind you, turning once.

"This doesn't feel like their room anymore- everything's packed."

"Your mom's friend packed the stuff. Do you want me to leave while you look at it?"

"No- you can stay," you told him, and he took a seat, you bringing a box to the seat next to his, opening it to find your dad's clothes.

One by one, you opened the boxes- clothes, personal belongings, a few of their favourite books, and then you found a few pictures- pictures of you, pictures you had never seen. You didn't even remember half of the moments.

"You were cuter when you were little," Hongjoong laughed as he saw one of your pre-teen years.

"I admit that I was," you smiled, finding a photo album and flipping through it, Hongjoong bringing his seat closer.

You didn't realize you were crying until your tears fell on the album, and you hastily wiped your eyes, holding back a sob but failing when Hongjoong put a comforting hand on your back.

"It just... feels real, now that I'm in their room alone without them. They'd never let me come here alone," you smiled sadly.

"It's okay, let it out," Hongjoong rubbed your back as you sniffed, bursting in a sob and holding your face in your hands, Hongjoong's arm wrapping around you as he held you.

You really felt their absence now. You'd grown up away from your parents, but this was the one place you'd always be with your parents, with your dad's funny face as he cracked jokes while your mom would scold you both for being too loud.

Hongjoong handed you his handkerchief and you wiped your eyes and nose, apologizing for being a mess.

"It's okay, really," he said, "I know it's hitting now that you're here."

You nodded, another stream of tear escaping your eyes, and Hongjoong's heart ached- he had always seen you with a smile or a smirk on your face. He couldn't bear to see your eyes full of tears, pain evident on your face. He didn't realize what he was doing- he brought his hand to your face, cupping it as he wiped your tears, kissing your cheek once, drawing back rather slowly and you looked at him.

It was as if time stilled- his hand remained on your face, fingers unmoving, while the two of you stared at each other. You were the first to draw away from your trance, muttering a sorry, looking away awkwardly, staring at the distance as you wiped your face.

"Do you want to take some of these to your room?" He asked, getting up, "We can make a box and you can take that."

"That's actually a good idea," you got up, putting all the pictures and photo albums in a separate box, some of your mom's jewellery, your dad's favourite books, and then you were done. You noticed Hongjoong smiling at a picture.

"What are you looking at?"

"I think this is the most recent one," he waved it at you- he was right. It was from the time they visited your home, a candid picture of you where you were out in the sun with a hand in front of your face to block the light. Your mom was always clicking such random pictures of you. "I'm keeping this."

"You are not," you glared at him, coming forward to snatch it away from him but he only stepped back, holding it in the air, smirking playfully.

"I'm gonna frame it and keep it in my room, caption it, 'the only time she looked normal'- hey!"

Hongjoong was startled when you jumped, holding on his shoulder for support, but he took another step back, which was a mistake, and he ended up loosing his footing, his free arm automatically going around your waist for support, but he ended up falling back- thankfully on the bed-

And you on top of him.

You groaned loudly, getting up a bit and laughing loudly when you snatched the picture from him, waving it in front of his face in victory.

But he wasn't having any of that- and he really wanted to wipe the smirk off your face. He brought you closer- dangerously close- and you realized only then the position that you were in, your eyes going wide.

"You're giving me that photo back," his voice was hoarse, expressions smug.

You shook your head, putting your hand behind you, only one hand holding you up for support.

Hongjoong shook his head, muttering 'you're gonna make me regret this' as he pushed himself up and caught your lips in his, kissing you rather furiously, swallowing your surprised moan, his hand tightening around your waist as one hand snaked up your face.

He wasn't even giving you time to think or breathe as he moved his lips along yours, and you didn't realize you were responding to the kiss until you heard his own satisfied moan, your hand on his shoulder now squeezing it unconsciously, because this was wrong, this shouldn't be happening, but you didn't care in that moment, those thoughts being pushed out and out-

Hongjoong snatched the photo from you, and you thought he'd stop, but his hand went to the back of your head, guiding you along better, pushing into you until you both had switched position, your back arched very low.

You had to break apart for breath, your foreheads still joined as you both tried to catch your breath and you couldn't help but sigh at how out of breath you both were. His arms stayed around you as he drew apart, out of words as you stared at each other.

You shook your head, "All this for one photo?"

"I'm definitely framing it," he muttered.

You exhaled, licking your lips as your gaze fell on his, and you finally came to your senses, getting up and away from his warm embrace, suddenly feeling cold.

Hongjoong cleared his throat as he straightened himself, and you picked the box, awkwardly standing in the middle of the room.

"This was definitely only because you wanted to distract me and snatch the photo, right? Because you're in a goddamn Selection, Prince Hongjoong, and Arin is my best friend and I could never do this to her."

He felt his heart twist, but he nodded, "Definitely."

The two of you knew you weren't being honest. But you decided to ignore it for now. "Let's go then. I'll be taking this to my room."

"Alright," he said, motioning you to go forward, locking the room back. As he walked you to the chamber where the girls and you were staying, he told you he was gonna go to his room.

"Can I ask you something?"

"What?"

"That was... just how many girls have you kissed?"

Hongjoong realized you basically meant he was a pro, and he threw his head back as he laughed, making you laugh as well, the ice breaking for now. "I'm not that experienced!"

You made a face that said that you were not having any of it. "Liar."

"Believe it or not, before the Selection, I've only kissed twice," he admitted, and you gasped.

"I guess you're a natural. Let's forget about this, okay? Stay focused, Prince! 16 girls waiting for your response, and I'm not one of them."

Hongjoong saluted, going back to his room- once he was inside, he slumped down with his face in his hands.

He was glad you were cool and things hadn't messed up indefinitely, but...

One thing he was sure of was that he'd never felt anything like this in his life before- and he wanted more. He wasn't sure if he could forget this.

------------------

You knew you were never going to look at Hongjoong the same way again.

Something had inevitably changed between the two of you, and though you were trying not to think of it, you were now aware of him, more than ever. And though Hongjoong was an excellent actor, you could see that he was a bit awkward too.

But maybe you two only needed time to forget that.

What you did not know was that Hongjoong was trying to forget about it, he really was. And he was busying himself in more work than usual, trying to interact with the Selected girls more, another broadcast taking place as well.

With Arin hanging out with Miyeon, you didn't have anyone to talk to- but you were scared to face Arin after that. If Arin really liked Hongjoong and was serious about it (of course she did, there were no ifs!), you had messed up. Your friendship with Arin was worth so much to you and you couldn't ruin it.

With Hongjoong busy, you spent most of the time in your room or with San- who was surprisingly very easy to talk to. You two had a lot in common, in fact, which created a very comfortable bond between you two.

You sat with San near the pond, the two of you glum as you tossed pebbles in the pond. If anyone would see you two, they'd think you'd lost a war- the amount of sighs you two were breathing were too much.

"What's got you so down?" You finally asked, "I thought you were enjoying your stay."

"I was, and I'm not ready to go back to my normal life. I need a break so bad," San sighed, looking up at the sky wistfully.

"Ah... I can't imagine going back to my normal life either now," you could relate to him- even though it had been only three days for him, he must have been needing this breather.

"I'm sure Miyeon must be crying right now, in Arin's arms," he grinned.

"You wanna cry too? I'll join," you laughed, and San shook his head.

"Why do you wanna cry?" San looked at you, and you pursed your lips.

"You ever do something that you regret?" You asked, and he scoffed.

"If there was one thing-"

"No, like," you turned to him, "It wasn't your fault. But somehow... you got involved. And it was a bad decision- there is too much at stake. And you regret that- nothing's damaged yet, but you can't forget it either."

San narrowed his eyes at you, "Is this what I think it is?"

"I don't know what you think it is, but it's not that, and no, I don't even want to hear what you think it is-"

San burst out laughing, shaking his head as he looked at you, clicking his tongue at you. "Does this involve Hongjoong?"

You opened your mouth to say no, but his eyes said he had you, and you shut your mouth. "Why do you think this involves Hongjoong?"

"I've seen the way he looks at you- and don't tell me I'm wrong. I know a man's gaze and what it means."

You bit your lip, turning your face away from him. What was going on? Was San right about this?

"Something happened between you two?"

"I'd rather not talk about it," you muttered, and San patted your back.

"There are some things in life we cannot change. But... I think we should be able to make our decisions without caring about someone else. You know what I mean? Sometimes we should put ourselves first, if the risk is worth it."

"I really don't understand what you're saying, and this... sober talking doesn't suit you at all, San."

San slapped your arm, "One day my words are gonna make sense to you. 'til then... Let's forget about this, eh?"

You glared at him, nodding as he smiled, pinching your cheek. "You're cute. I'm gonna miss you when I go back. You should visit Halaland with Arin soon- promise me."

"No promises," you huffed, and San started whining, making you cringe away and laugh as you promised.

"I don't understand what's so Princely about you. If anyone saw you whining like a little- can I curse?" San nodded and you did, "They'd strip you of your title."

"Come on, just because I'm a Prince doesn't mean I can be a little brat- and yes, I'm censoring it. You're too harsh."

"I'm stating facts-"

You heard a rustle, and the two of you frowned as you looked at the source of the sound.

It was Miyeon and Arin, hand in hand as they giggled in low voices, walking along the footpath. You almost got up to say hi, but San held you by your arm, putting a finger to his mouth as he shook his head, and you frowned, not understanding why-

You looked at Arin and Miyeon- they were too close. Miyeon was rubbing Arin's hand almost lovingly, but-

"They like each other- or so Miyeon says."

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you looked at San, then at the disappearing figure of the two, then back at San.

"Like each other? As in?"

"You know what I'm saying," San looked grim, "They like each other... and they kissed. I told her to be careful- if Arin gets caught now... she'd have to face a serious punishment."

You felt as if you were drowning as the words from the set of rules rang in your head: if any of the Selected are caught in a romantic relationship with someone else during that period, it would be considered treason and be punishable by death.

"But... they only met 3 days ago!" You frowned- it didn't make sense.

"3 days is enough to fall in love," San's tone was serious, "And you know how they clicked right away. Don't tell me you didn't know about Arin's preferences."

"She never talked to me about that," you put a hand on your head, trying to make sense of everything, "I don't know why, but... San, she was serious about this Selection. She was practically in love with Hongjoong."

"She only knew Hongjoong from afar, she was a fan. Her heart could have changed with or without Miyeon being here."

"But... this doesn't make sense, I need a minute to think," you stared at the pond as you thought about it- how Arin hadn't been too excited these days. How she hadn't seem disappointed when she had discovered that Hongjoong had kissed the other girls. How she wasn't even waiting for a date anymore, too busy since Miyeon came.

"I know it must be hard to digest- I was surprised too. This is a first for Miyeon too."

"Really?" You looked at him and he nodded, "I guess... whatever makes them happy. That means Arin would have to get dismissed from the Selection without anyone knowing what was going on. Shouldn't they be more careful?"

"It's not like they're doing anything right now," San chuckled, "It's just them finding themselves right now. They decided to wait- Arin is gonna go on with the Selection and see what she really wants. Miyeon would spend time away from her- maybe everything will change. Maybe it's just the heat of the moment. We should give them time and space to think."

"I'm kinda hurt that Arin hasn't told me anything yet," you admitted, "Miyeon told you everything?"

"She really wanted to think this through. So much could go wrong, even for her. She's a Princess. There's much to consider."

You shook your head, "Everything is so messed up."

"But it's beautifully messed up," San smiled.

And two days later, it was time for an elimination.

You wondered if Hongjoong would dismiss Arin- he had gone on another date with her last night, but not much had happened- the two had walked, you following beside, and he'd just asked Arin about her hobbies, her life before Selection, getting to know her.

If Arin was dismissed today, you'd be going home along with her. There were more girls who were confident that they'd stay today than girls who weren't.

Hongjoong entered after breakfast, scanning the girls once, his eyes falling on you for a second longer before he drew away. "Ladies, I hoped you slept well last night. Today is the inevitable elimination- only 8 of you will be staying."

The girls gasped- they hadn't expected it to cut to half already. "I'll be announcing those who are staying now."

He started calling the names- and Arin squeezed your hand out of nervousness, you squeezing back as you heard the satisfied gasps and the sobs that rang through the room.

The last name he called was Arin's- and you looked at him in surprise, finding him looking at you instead of Arin. Arin only sighed, slumping in her seat.

"I'm sorry to all those who were dismissed- I hope you live a happier, healthier life from this point on. If you have anything you want to say or ask, you can meet me in the Men's Room."

With that, he took off, leaving the 8 eliminated girls sobbing, and you couldn't help but sigh in relief- wondering what your sigh meant. Were you happy for Arin or relieved that you weren't going home?

That night, you went to the garden, not surprised when Hongjoong arrived an hour later, sighing when he saw you, sitting down with you on the bench.

"You've been busy," you smiled.

"I really wanted to talk to all of them once more before the elimination, just to be sure," he said.

"And? Feeling any sparks yet?"

"Not really," he looked down, the silver tendrils of his hair falling down on his forehead, and you admired his side profile- he really had the most unique nose you'd seen on a person- "I don't know what to do anymore."

"What do you mean?" You frowned as he looked at you, his eyes full of worry.

"In the next elimination I'm supposed to cut this down to 3. I don't think I like anyone more than the others- I really don't feel anything for them. This Selection was a bad idea- the rebels won't calm down just because I get married. They've tried attacking again, two days ago, but they couldn't enter. I don't want to end up choosing someone because she's someone's favourite- the king's, or the queen's, or the people's. I don't want to live with someone I don't love."

"I understand, Hongjoong," you put a hand on his back, "It's hard, I get it. But... I don't think you can back out of this now. You're a Prince, Hongjoong. There are so many people looking forward to this, waiting for your decision-"

"I didn't expect you to say that- you really don't understand," Hongjoong shook his head in frustration, "I think... I don't think I like any of the Selected. I like you. I want you, not them. They don't know me like you do- and I don't feel comfortable with them like I do with you."

You almost sobbed- your heart absolutely ached at his words. "Hongjoong, this isn't about us, please. I shouldn't even have been here. If I wasn't here, you would have proceeded normally with the Selection and found someone you actually liked- you probably only like me because I'm not one of them-"

"No. I like you because you're you. If you were in the Selection, I would have chosen you. If you were one of the Selected... I would have ended it today."

"Hongjoong, think again- you're the Prince. You can't be selfish-"

"Just tell me- tell me you like me too. If you do, nothing else matters," he locked his eyes with you, pain evident in them as he waited expectantly for an answer, his hand on top of yours squeezing it unconsciously.

You wanted nothing more than to lose yourself in the moment, but you had to be rational, "Hongjoong, this really isn't about you and me. This is about the future Princess, who one day will be Queen. Who'll share the burden of your kingdom. I can only be your friend- I don't think I can be more."

Hongjoong's face fell, and he sighed as he looked at the sky, his hand still on yours. "Would it have been different if you had entered the Selection? Or if... if I wasn't the Prince?"

"I don't know. But Hongjoong... we've only kissed once. Please forget about that and focus on what's important. It was just in the heat of the moment, okay? You're confused- all this pressure with the Selection is making you look at me. Maybe we shouldn't even hang out anymore-"

"No- that would make it worse, I know that," he finally took his hand off yours, "Just tell me one thing. Promise me you won't lie."

You narrowed your eyes at him but his eyes were firm- he was serious. "Okay."

"No lies. Just a plain answer. A yes or no. I promise to go back to the Selection, I'll properly think this through, I promise, just don't lie."

"Okay," you laughed nervously, "What is it?"

"When we kissed... you felt something, didn't you? You still do, and you did before we kissed. Is that right?"

You scanned his face- his eyes were holding your gaze as if he could tell if you would lie. You pursed your lips, wondering how you should say it-

"Your silence says enough," a slow smile creeped up his face, "You don't need to say it. It's plain as day on your face."

"You could be imagining it, you know. You could be wrong."

Hongjoong looked at you, tucking your hair behind your ear as he patted your cheek. "I don't think I'm wrong about this, dear."

-----------------

As promised, Hongjoong spent more time with the girls, going on dates and actually talking to them and getting to know the 8. Arin had another date where the two played table tennis, and you only sat back and watched, because god, you sucked at table tennis and you'd only make a scene if you tried.

After that date, Arin told you she wanted to sleep in your room tonight, and you internally smirked, wondering if she was finally going to tell you everything.

"I really don't like Hongjoong that way," she finally admitted, "And I'm sure Hongjoong doesn't like me either."

You pursed your lips, and she narrowed her eyes, "Did you suspect that already?"

"Of course I did, I'm your best friend, Arin. I saw how your interest in him kept going downfall."

"I don't even know why he decided to keep me. Perhaps he wanted to give me a chance because of the language barrier. Anyways, I'm not wife material- I can't do this. I'll just wait for the next elimination."

"Is your heart somewhere else, Miss?" You tested the waters, watching Arin's cheeks go red- it always gave her away.

"Actually, it is," she admitted, and you gasped dramatically, putting a hand over your mouth, "I'll tell you once I'm out- I want to properly introduce her to you."

"Her?" You wriggled your brows, and it was her turn to gasp, "You know?"

"San may have told me."

"San?" Arin wriggled her brows, but you laughed and shook it off, "Nothing as juicy as your story, Arin. It's best we don't talk about it here. Let's just wait to go home."

"Should I, I don't know, disappoint Hongjoong and speed it up?"

"No!" You slapped Arin's arm, "Poor guy already has it tough!"

The two of you burst into giggles, but almost screamed when the door opened loudly and a guard stepped inside.

"Rebels are inside- please follow me," he went to the right corner of the room, clicking behind a frame and opening a doorway, "Inside, now. Follow the tunnel and you'll find yourself in the room with the King and Queen and the rest of the girls."

You felt your heart sink, wondering if Hongjoong was safe, and you and Arin made your way down the dark tunnel, you leading the way, one hand in Arin's and the other feeling the tunnel out, following the dim light until it grew and you were in the large hall with the Queen huddled beside the King, only 3 girls inside so far, trembling with fear, and Arin joined them, comforting them as best as she could.

You asked one of the guards about the Prince's whereabouts and he told you he was making sure the girls were coming here before he would join, and you felt your heart fill with pride- he was really out there making sure everyone of them was safe.

It took another very long 15 minutes until one by one the girls came, Hongjoong coming in last. Some of the girls were shaken so bad that they seemed numb. Hongjoong stood beside you, staring at them as he caught his breath.

"It was an ugly fight out there- these girls witnessed it. They want to go home as soon as this is over."

"Oh," you bit your lip, "What do the rebels want, Hongjoong?"

"They probably want to overthrow us, like every other rebel in every other country. They are not ready to accept that Wonderers and Utopians could be one."

The Queen called Hongjoong over, and Hongjoong looked at you, "Come over- I should introduce you to mom and dad."

"Now?"

"Yes, now. Now is the time they miss them the most."

He took you to them, and you awkwardly stood and bowed as Hongjoong told them whose daughter you were. The King smiled, saying the resemblance was uncanny, and the Queen smiled warmly at you as well, "I miss Mira the most these days. She would have had so much fun with the Selection."

"It's an honour to me that you remember my parents," you said, and they laughed as they shook a hand in dismissal.

"Your father was a fine man," the King smiled, "His sacrifice means a lot to us. We miss the two dearly, and you... You are welcome in this Palace anytime. I heard how you and my son are friends now."

You looked at Hongjoong and he grinned, "Mom was making fun of me, saying I finally made the friend that I should have made some 20 years ago."

You laughed, shaking your head as you went back to where Arin was sitting, and she put her hands on her hips.

"You, miss, have something going on with Hongjoong."

"I have nothing," you said, but she wasn't having any of it.

"Have you seen the way he looks at you? He's never looked at one of us this way," she said, referring to the Selected, "I say you've won his heart."

"Shut up, Arin, he's the Prince. I'm no one. I'm only his friend, that's it."

"Whatever you say, I can't hear this bullshit. You're both either blind as hell or stupid as fuck."

"Arin!" You widened your eyes at her language, "Etiquettes!"

She only grinned, silly dancing and you wished you could wipe that smug look off her face. But she had caught you red-handed. and you couldn't deny it now, it was too late.

You watched Hongjoong comfort the girls one by one. He really was better off with one of them, not you. You weren't princess material. You were only... you. Simple you who was only good at translating and being a friend. You couldn't allow yourself to hope, you couldn't mess everything- the whole kingdom was hanging on the Selection and who the future princess would be. You didn't want to create a mess.

You couldn't allow yourself the luxury of thinking that you could be Hongjoong's, because really, before anything else... He was too good for you. You didn't deserve him.

By the next night, 4 girls had gone home, leaving only 4- Arin, Kahi, Nayoung and Sohee. Sophie had announced that Hongjoong would make his decision and propose his choice on the live broadcast in a week from now, and now that the end was real, you found yourself more anxious than ever, and as you were making your way back to your room, you almost bumped into Hongjoong.

"Whoa, careful there," he looked at you, frowning when he saw your face etched with worry, "Something wrong?"

"No, just tired," you shrugged it off, and Hongjoong scanned your face.

"You wanna hang out tonight? Help the poor Prince relieve some stress?"

"Sure, poor Prince," you grinned, going to your room.

Before you could go down to the garden though, you heard a knock. You were still in your navy blue suit, your tie a bit loose, and you thought it was Arin coming to ask you something, but when you opened the door-

It was Hongjoong.

He scanned your figure rather slowly, taking in the loose messy hair and tie, and god, he would never get tired of seeing you in suits.

"What are you doing here?" You asked, your heart sinking at the way he was looking at you.

"I just thought I'd come by and surprise you," he laughed, "and you're very surprised."

"I am," you laughed a little, allowing him to enter, "What's up?"

"I just had a meeting with everyone regarding the Selection, he slumped on your couch and you sat beside him, shifting so you faced him, "They think Kahi might be the better choice."

"Thought so," you muttered, and he laughed at the annoyance in your tone, "She's the obvious choice. Do you like her?"

"Honestly? She's okay. Tolerable. She just goes along with whatever I say. She doesn't fight back, just accepts whatever I say or give. I think she just wants to end up with me because of her strong family connection and because she could be a 'Princess'."

"Ah, here for the title, and to please you while she bathes in the royal treasure," you giggled, "Somehow, I can picture that."

"Right! I can too," he scoffed.

"But that's what everyone thinks- what do you think?"

Hongjoong bit his lips, folding his hands, "I... I don't know. Not Kahi. Not Nayooung. Not Sohee and not Arin either. I mean, I could pick anyone, but I don't think I'll ever truly be myself with them."

"That's... maybe you will, Hongjoong. It might take some time, but eventually, you'll be comfortable with them. You'll find the happiness you deserve, Hongjoong."

"I think I don't deserve happiness," he sighed, turning to look at you, "Maybe I'm damned. I don't know why I'm going through this- mom and dad had a chance and they fell in love. They didn't need a damned Selection. Why am I going through this?"

You frowned, "What's really bothering you, Hongjoong?"

Hongjoong gazed at you for a few seconds before turning as if he was in pain, "It's useless to say it out loud."

You sighed, figuring you'd give him some time to sort his thoughts out, getting up and opening your drawer, smiling at the photo before you sat back down. "You might wanna see this."

Hongjoong scooted nearer, taking the photo and frowning before bursting out in a fit of laughter, "I look like a wimp, and you look worse!"

You laughed, "I definitely look better than you. This might be the most un-princely photo of you that exists- we should frame it and hang it in the Great Hall."

"I remember this," Hongjoong smiled at the photo, "Your dad actually slapped my head and told me to act like a Prince because he wanted me to impress you- but we both ended up like this. You got an earful from your mom too, didn't you?"

"She made me do this, I didn't want to," you scoffed.

"I miss being little," Hongjoong sighed, "When I had nothing to worry about. My only worry was not being caught staring at you kids from the windows."

"You should have joined," your smile was sad as you two looked at each other.

"Don't you think we were meant to meet each other and be friends, sit here together like this?" Hongjoong's voice was low as he scanned your face, "When I'm here, with you, I feel... like Hongjoong. Not the Prince that has to put up and act."

"Should I be honoured?" You teased, but he only smiled, holding your hand.

"I'm only myself when I'm with you," he caressed your hand and you felt your stomach swoop, "I really wish I could call you mine."

You wanted to take your hand away- that was what had to be the rational thing to do, but the way he was gazing at your joined hands with his eyes full of sadness... it made you pause. He looked at you, "Have you ever wanted something or someone so much that you felt like you were nothing without it? That if you didn't get it, you'd just be an empty shell for the rest of your life?"

"Chocolate?" You shrugged, Hongjoong almost wheezing as he laughed, shaking his head, mumbling something about how you ruined the moment, but you squeezed his hand.

"I don't know, Hongjoong, but I... I think it'll be too late before I realize that I let go of the thing I wanted."

His eyes flickered with hope, "It doesn't have to be that way. If you have a chance, don't you think you should take it?"

"You know... I thought about it, Hongjoong. I wondered what it would be like to be with you," you said, making his heart sink as you looked at your joined hands, caressing his hand, "I wondered if I could really do this. If I could call you mine and sit with you like this every night," you looked at him, taking your hand away only to caress his face, "If we could talk like friends yet... be more. But Hongjoong, I'm not one of the Selected, and you can only select one of them. It's for the better."

"How is it better for me," he leaned in to your touch, "if I won't ever have something like this with someone else?"

Your smile was sad and unconvincing, and Hongjoong leaned closer, already out of breath by you words, "I'd break the rules for you. I'd accept any sort of punishment. I'd lose my title if it meant that I'd get to be with you- with you, who I love with all of my heart, because you're the one that I want."

You cupped Hongjoong's face in your hands, "I know. I know you'd do that for me. I know you love me, Hongjoong, and I... I love you too." You gave yourself a moment to scan Hongjoong's face who couldn't have looked more relieved, "But you're a Prince. You have a whole kingdom to look after. Every subject of yours is waiting for an opportunity for you to slip, to make a mistake, so they can use that excuse and destroy your kingdom. You understand that, don't you?"

Hongjoong hesitated before nodding, taking your hands away from his face, holding them as he looked down and thought about it. "It's cruel that you told me you love me only to let me go."

"I'm sorry for that," your eyes teared, "We're not meant to be."

When Hongjoong leaned in to kiss you, you didn't stop him, tears rolling down your cheeks as he kissed you softly, his hands holding your face as if it was fragile, and when he drew back, his own eyes were glazed as he wiped your eyes.

"I only have one week," he began, "please don't let me be alone for this week. I don't want to let go of you without knowing what it could be like if you were mine."

You shook your head but he squeezed your hand as if telling you that it was alright, "One week, that's all I ask. Forget about everything else, forget about the stupid Selection and the fact that I'm a Prince. Just be mine for this week, please."

"And you'll let me go? After one week?" You looked at him, and he nodded.

"If that's what you want."

You leaned in to hug him- your answer. You sat in his arms for a few minutes, holding him as if someone would snatch him away from you if you let him go. "One condition."

"What?" He was caressing your hair.

"Please don't contact me after the Selection is over. I won't want you to be unfaithful to your wife because of me. And... I'd need time but I'll move on too. But please... don't contact me, Hongjoong."

He held you tighter, his heart screaming against this but he nodded, and you sighed.

Tonight was all about sweet lies anyway.

He held you for a few minutes longer, then kissed your forehead and told you that he'd be back tomorrow, that he'd be wasting no moment from now on and that he'd like it if the two of you weren't so sad every time you met, and you laughed, promising him and yourself that you'd make the most of this one week.

But tonight, you'd cry. You didn't know how long you sat on your couch and cried silently until Arin slipped inside your room, gasping in surprise and sitting beside you asking what was wrong and you cried your heart out for the first time in Arin's arms, and she shushed you as she held you and comforted you.

"You should tell me what happened before I pass away out of worry," she frowned.

You told her then. You told her that you hadn't meant for this to happen, that you two were just friends- until you two were so comfortable with each other and realized it must be love. Though Arin was listening somberly at first, she was nearly laughing by the end of this.

"I fucking knew it!" She clapped, and you resisted the urge to choke her, "I knew the way Hongjoong looked at you was different! He's smitten by you, and you were blind!"

"Arin, I'm trying hard not to cry again, you're making this worse," you said but ended up laughing because she was too excited.

"I say fuck the Selection! Fuck this kingdom! He should choose you-" Arin was interrupted by you putting a hand over her mouth and telling her to tone it down before anyone heard and got you two kicked out.

"I'm serious, though," Arin insisted, "Hongjoong like you, you like him. Simple. Who cares about the Selection? He should marry you. He should put himself first. What has this Kingdom given him anyway? A damned burden! If the people really cared about their Prince, they'd let him marry whoever he wants."

"It's too complicated, Arin, you don't understand," you said, shaking your head, "If it was as easy, I wouldn't have been sitting here crying."

Arin bit her lip, thinking. She really wanted to lift your spirits, which was why she kept joking around, knowing you always gave in after a while of wanting to kill her. "Well, at least I'm able to joke because I'm not involved in this. Can't you see? It was meant to be. Me meeting Miyeon, deciding Hongjoong wasn't for me- I know if that hadn't happened, you wouldn't have even looked at Hongjoong that way- or allowed this."

"Maybe Miyeon shouldn't have come. You would be getting selected next week then."

"Come on, that's not the point," Arin waved a hand, "Just... forget about everything else and make most of this week. We'll figure something out."

"There's no figuring this out," you sighed, "I've just prepared myself for the biggest heartbreak of my life."

------------------

It was both painful and lovely to be with Hongjoong- a brush of your hands as you bumped into each other in the hallway, stolen kisses in secret, winks sent across the room- really, you two were making it obvious. But since Arin was with you most of the times, the remaining girls thought it was Arin who was getting this special treatment, and they were upset because of that.

But you couldn't care less. You had one week, and you wouldn't let anyone come in between that.

In the days, Hongjoong was mostly busy, making sure he spent some time with the girls too so that no one would suspect. Each night, Hongjoong and you would walk in the gardens, hands brushing playfully as you talked just like usual. And two nights later, Hongjoong led you to a secret room in the palace through the tunnels.

"I'm pretty sure no one knows of this room," he told you as he lit the candles, "I used to explore the secret passages, leave a string of thread along."

"Hongjoong!" You gasped, "You could have gotten lost! How careless could you be? Imagine if someone found your bones here after years of searching-"

"Well, I'm here," he blew the matchstick away, turning to you, "And I need you to shut up for a bit."

You rolled your eyes as he wrapped his arms around your waist and brought you in for a lazy kiss, your arms automatically going to his chest.

"I could never get tired of this," Hongjoong mumbled, tracing his nose along your cheeks as he breathed, "I could do this all day and all night."

"Shut up," you slapped his chest lightly, suddenly feeling shy and Hongjoong grinned at that, kissing your cheek and trailing his lips down to your neck, and you gladly let him take control. He was taking his sweet time, rocking you back and forth as he played with your neck. When he drew up, he smiled as he scanned your face. "What are you thinking?"

"Nothing," you shrugged, but he brought you closer, tucking your hair behind your ears as he whined, making you roll your eyes, "Thinking about how it started."

"Hmm," Hongjoong brought you to the couch, making you sit in his lap as he played with your hair, "Totally unexpected?"

"Totally," you laughed, "I was... so happy for Arin. She really, really was in love with you, Hongjoong- or so she thought."

"I think her situation is more surprising than ours," Hongjoong shook his head, "But I have to thank her for not being in love with me."

You laughed at that, "It would have been a mess if she was still in the game." You had told Hongjoong about Arin's situation, and he had suggested that she wait until the Selection was over and lay low for a good few months before going to Miyeon or anyone else for that matter since all eyes would be on the last few candidates for a good while. "But you know what? I think I would have fallen for you anyway. I think it wasn't because of Arin being involved or not."

"Ah," Hongjoong grinned, "Is that so?"

"I really wanted to meet you, you know. And when you caught me the first night in the gardens- I think that's how everything changed, no?"

Hongjoong's smile was sad this time, and you kissed him, "We promised not to be sad anymore."

"I can't help it," he cupped your face, "How will I be able to let you go after this? How will I ever be okay after knowing what it feels like to be in love and letting it go? What kind of a prince I am if I can't even choose my princess?"

You ran your hand through his hair lovingly, caressing his cheekbone, "I feel like this is enough- if I ask for more, I'll be selfish. The fact that we are here now... that's a blessing in itself. I can't be selfish with you, Hongjoong."

The two of you stared at each other for the longest time as if memorizing each other, tracing each other's face, and you spent hours just talking about this or that or kissing each other or teasing- it was just so natural. And throughout the night, Hongjoong held you close, making you lose your mind as he kissed you like it was his last time- and it very well might have been. Each passing night of this short week had you two getting more desperate to be with each other and feel each other, skin on skin had nothing on you.

And each passing day made you weaker inside- you really had grown used to the palace and everyday life here and most importantly, Hongjoong. You promised not to be sad in front of Hongjoong but whenever you were alone (mostly Arin there to hold you), you were crying. Sometimes it was silent tears rolling down your face, sometimes hysteric crying- even Momo, Mina and Sana were worried for you, though they were kind enough not to intrude on your privacy and ask.

It was your last night here- the last time you'd be in Hongjoong's arms. Everything was going to change tomorrow.

You sat waiting for Hongjoong in your room, staring at the moon through the window, barely holding it all in. You were afraid you were gonna break down when you saw Hongjoong.

But when the knock sounded, you immediately knew it was not Hongjoong. And when you opened the door, your jaw almost dropped as you bowed.

"Your Majesty- you could have called for me."

The Queen patted your cheek- she was in a very casual attire, as if she had just decided to come to your room. You had a billion thoughts in your head but only one question- what the hell was going on?

"Please, do sit and be comfortable," the Queen said, "I wanted to see you and have a little talk."

You scanned her face- she was smiling as if she knew something. She laughed at your expressions and began, "I know you must be confused. But I had to see the reason why my son was waking up with puffy eyes these days."

She knew.

"Your Majesty- I... I'm sorry-"

"Oh no," the Queen waved a hand in dismissal, "I'm not here to scold you, dear. Hongjoong doesn't know of this, neither did he say anything, but he's my dear son, and I could see something was weighing him down. It looked like he had lost a war."

You bit your lips, "How did you know then?"

The Queen laughed, "I knew you were friends, dear. But I also saw the way he looked at you- and the way you looked at him. Now what kind of a mother would I be if I couldn't recognize the look in my son's eyes? Your King looks at me the same."

You smiled at that, "So... I don't know what to do, I... I told Hongjoong to go on with the Selection. I told him that his kingdom is more important and that he has to consider his subjects before he makes a hasty decision. And he'll go on with this decision. I'll be here no more tomorrow."

"I'm sorry, dear," the Queen's face was sad, "if it were anyone else, maybe I wouldn't have understood. But since it's you... I can see why Hongjoong loves you, dear. Your mother and father were great people. They've taken our secrets to the graves. But they were also our friends, and me and my husband had love for them as a friend would. They cherished you, their only child. I'm sure they would be so proud of you if they were alive today."

You wiped your eyes and the Queen got up, putting a hand on your shoulder, giving you a reassuring squeeze. "Sometimes, the future has things stored for us that we do not expect. Do not be sad. You are my pick, honey. And tomorrow... stay, until the announcement. I have to give you something."

You nodded, surprised at her words but also confused at how cryptic she was being. She patted your cheek and left the room, and only a few minutes had passed, you still thinking about the Queen when Hongjoong knocked and entered, and you instantly knew that he had no knowledge of the Queen's visit.

You got up, going to his arms and silently hugging him. There were no tears left to cry now. It was only silence- comfortable sad silence surrounding you two as you hugged for the longest time.

"Can I hold you tonight?" Hongjoong drew back a bit, caressing your face, and you saw it then- his eyes, as puffy and red as yours. Anyone would have known, really.

You nodded and he led you to the bed, taking his jacket off and sliding inside the covers, spreading them over you both as you lay half seated in each other's arms, your head on his chest hearing his heart in sync with yours, his arm around you as he played with your hair- a habit of his.

"You're quiet today," you muttered, looking up at him- laughing a bit when you saw him pouting.

"I don't feel like talking tonight," he pouted again, "I'll listen tonight if you want to do the talking."

"Hmm," you shifted, "not even silly retorts or dad jokes?"

"I'll try to hold them back," he finally laughed, and you kissed him slowly, smiling into it.

"Let's not be sad tonight, Hongjoong," you kissed his cheek, "I don't want the last thing I remember of you to be your swollen eyes."

"I think that's quite a pretty sight to remember," he grinned and you shook your head, kissing him when he nodded, his hand going behind your neck as the kisses got more desperate and picked speed, losing all composure and calm because really, you were kissing like this because it was your last time.

You let Hongjoong cry as he kissed you, and you only realized your face was wet with your own tears when he wiped them away, never breaking apart. You both were smiling into the kiss anyway. And when Hongjoong and you lay in each other's arms, Hongjoong muttered something in your ear repeatedly that had you smiling like a kid.

"Can you stop calling me your princess?" You cringed back, his breath making you tickle and laugh way too hard, "It's getting annoying!"

"But you are the queen of my heart," Hongjoong mumbled it in your ear on purpose, making you giggle and slap his bare shoulders. "Ah, you're getting naughty."

"I'm not! You're making me- hey!" You were interrupted as he turned so he was on top of you, his eyes now dark and changed, making your stomach flutter dangerously.

"You wanna do that again?" He challenged, smirking.

"Do what- this?" You slapped his arm, acting innocent, and he laughed out loud at your antics, pinching your cheek because you were being way too cute, and then kissing you.

"You don't let me breathe, woman," he muttered, falling back on bed and bringing you closer.

You trailed your finger down his chest suggestively, "Don't you like this? Should I let you breathe once in a while?"

He shook his head- he'd had enough of you. He held your face as he muttered something in your ear that made you go red and your knees go weak. And then he acted upon it, making love to you, the two of you trying to push the thought that this was your last night together but it leaked in to your actions as he kissed you desperately, as you ran your hands all over his body like you were deprived of his touch, as you held each other throughout the night.

------------------

The two of you slept in each other's arms, though when you woke up, his absence hit you so hard that you were screaming into your pillow. You had never felt so alone.

Gathering yourself for an act for the last time, you washed your face and let the girls do your makeup, Arin watching you sadly. You put on the deep red suit that Hongjoong loved so much, wondering if you would ever be able to wear suits again since it would be a constant reminder of your short time here.

You only drank coffee to keep you going, waiting in the Women's Room for the staff to call you to the broadcasting room where Hongjoong would announce his wife- the future princess of Wonderland. You suddenly felt nauseous- you couldn't watch that.

You wouldn't be able to.

You told Arin, and she understood, hugging you once, nice and good, but when she drew back, she was smiling.

"I am so proud of you," she patted your cheeks, "You'll get through this."

The ladies were escorted to the broadcast room, and you stayed behind, surprised beyond anything again when the Queen arrived, this time with Hongjoong.

"I told you I'd be back with something," the Queen smiled, and you looked at Hongjoong- even he was confused. She took off her wedding ring and handed it to Hongjoong- "Your decision, my son. It's time you think for yourself, as Hongjoong. Leave the kingdom to us."

You gaped at them, Hongjoong equally surprised, "But- father-"

"Your father is okay with this and he would have been here with me but he's handling the broadcast right now," she patted his back, "Go on, we don't have all day. If she is your happiness, then choose her. I don't want you to have regrets, son, and I don't want you to hate your parents who made you go with this Selection when they themselves didn't."

Hongjoong looked at you, then back at his mother, then finally smiled the most happy smile you'd seen on him so far, "You know, I had a ring of my own today. You beat me to it, mother."

You had to look away as you laughed and pinched your nose because Hongjoong pulled out his own ring, "I was going to go on with this anyway- I was going to tell you before you dragged me here, mother, you nearly gave me a heart attack! You should have warned me!"

"You should have warned me!" The Queen laughed, "Can you imagine the chaos if I hadn't made the connection and taken care of everything beforehand!"

"Unbelievable," you muttered, laughing through your tears, "Your Majesty... are you sure I deserve this?"

"My dear, you deserve to be Hongjoong's wife. The Princess thing- anyone can learn that, but I think the only person who could ever truly make him happy is you. Look at him smiling like an idiot- I have never seen him smile like that, and I am his mother!"

You nearly fell with relief, shaking your head in disbelief as Hongjoong stood in front of you, the Queen leaving you two. "So... can we stop crying and start being happy now?"

You laughed, shaking your head again as Hongjoong hugged you, sighing into it, "I told you last night. That you are meant to be my princess."

"Did you already have this planned out?" You looked at him, and he shook his head.

"All I did the whole week during my spare time was research over the past Selection laws, find a loophole, anything. But then mother came today and said that some laws needed to change anyway, so I better not disappoint her with my choice- you know you are her pick after all."

"I suddenly feel like I was one of the Selected all along," you groaned, "What about the girls?"

"Mom will break it to them. But enough about them-" Hongjoong drew back, taking out the two rings, "Which one are you gonna choose, Princess?"

You rolled your eyes, pretending to consider before putting both hands in the air, and Hongjoong slid his mother's ring on your right hand and his own in your left hand, kissing your knuckles before looking at you, and holding your face, kissing your lips so gently it felt like it was your first kiss, not quite able to draw back right away.

You only had a moment to yourself before Arin, not so ceremoniously, ran inside, squealing excitedly and hugging you and Hongjoong altogether, crying from happiness, saying she had 'too much of your sad ass' and scolding Hongjoong for not coming up with this earlier, which, even though you did not translate, he understood very well, apologizing as he laughed.

The staff called Hongjoong for the official announcement and he squeezed your hand, nudging you to come along. Arin took off her diamond studded hairpin, clipping it to your hair.

"Go show them who's the real queen."

You put your arm in Hongjoong's, walking proudly for the first time in your life.

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naoristerling · 5 months ago

Text

stairs & life, up / down (oneshot)

✧ gn!reader x kim hongjoong ✧ genre: non idol, slice of life, strangers to love interest, comfort, soft emotional ✧ word count: 10,4k ✧ warnings: adult language, smoking (don’t do it!), loneliness, end of friendships, moving on from a relationship, getting over heartbreaks, facing challenges in life, crying

The ripping sound of paper, the clicking of a mechanical keyboard. Loneliness sounds & feels different to everyone but somehow, Hongjoong feels like you understand his. Yet, you confuse him. Why was your first encounter so bold when he hears you crying at night when you think nobody is listening? The fire escape of the old building suddenly becomes a place of comfort he didn’t expect to find in the loneliest city, filled with millions of people but now, there is you.

a/n: when i think of summer, i think of spending long nights outdoors because it's still warm and you just talk for hours without worrying about whatever happens tomorrow. hongjoong & mc both went through some hardships with different types of relationships but they are where they want to move on, all they needed was a hand to grab them and help them going forward. thanks for reading 🤎

The sound of paper being torn apart was often how Hongjoong would describe what his own heartbeak felt like and maybe, if it wasn’t already in pieces, it would be now. Fifty hours of passion, sleepless nights, and love torn apart, a woman with an unpleasant face hissing when she dropped his art like it was a random document.

“There was no reason to destroy it just because you did not like it,” he finally stated and received glares for daring to speak up. “It was garbage, what exactly did you plan to do with it? In fact, every artwork you have shown me in the past few months has been just that. What was the point in hiring you when your social media works were all fake?!”

Hongjoong wanted to wince but somehow managed to keep it together, being called deceitful as an artist who had given up so much for his art was hard.

“My style is exactly the same as the work you saw when you contacted me and I work the exact same way,” he bit his lip when she stood up and seemed more interested in answering her phone which was constantly buzzing in her overpriced pouch. People of her rank often held no passion at all, they only faked it for the smiles and the press.

”You have another month, if you cannot come up with the proper concept, you are out and of course, we cut your payment in half again. After all, since you came here five months ago, you did not deliver anything we could work with. That’s all.”

Hongjoong was about to demonstrate but the director of the publishing agency just left him standing there.

He never wanted to come to New York, he could not care less about the city everyone wanted to live in but there had been nothing left for him back home. When he found the girl he loved and dated since high school being with another, the one he had given his whole heart to so foolishly, telling him it was a pity that kept them together for so long because just like so many other people around him, she judged him for his passion and his income rather than his values and happiness. Sure, he could survive from what he was doing but in their eyes, it was not worth to be called living. She dreamt of a house with a pool, a nice car, and an expensive beach vacation, rather than a cozy apartment, taking the bus and weekend trips.

On that day, when he was crying and walking through his hometown without direction, his parents said that it was time to finally grow up and work for a mindless ad agency that would gladly take somebody with his talent rather than chase his dreams of being permitted to illustrate an entire children's book, one with a deeper meaning unlike all the projects he was part of so far, where he often designed characters but based on guidelines rather than freely.

The invitation of a publisher seemed to be a wink of fate but now, Hongjoong simply found himself trapped in a city of millions, yet never having been more alone.

Maybe he always had been, considering how blind love made him, believing to hold the love of a woman who cheated on him for who knows how long, likely even making use of his nights of working and being home late.

He had been such a fool.

The small ringing of a bell announced his arrival as he entered the familiar small grocery store which always was the destination at the end of days like today.

One benefit in all of his misery, Hongjoong was used to managing his life with little money, he could live from the shortened salary with some tricking and ignoring cravings. There also had been savings for emergencies, put aside for better times.

“How do you even manage to survive when this is all you eat?” San frowned, pointing at the selection of instant noodles and a few cans as he scanned each one. The store belonged to his family and the student helped out frequently.

Hongjoong offered him a playful little grin: “Magic, Sannie. Now…”

He bit his cheek and the man knew, frowning: “Another package? You said you meant to quit smoking for good… you rather should get dinner rather than spend it on this shit.”

Painted nails brushed through dark wavy hair as he shrugged: “I’m an artist, we need to have some kind of weakness, yes? Unless I suddenly find a muse and that one makes me go insane.”

He knew the other meant well as he sighed but added a package into the plastic bag, handing it to him. “Just look out for yourself.”

Hongjoong smiled at the younger: “I always do. See ya.” The guy did not need to know what he was going through, maybe Hongjoong himself was still trying to understand just that.

It was easy to smile for everyone, he had become an expert in that field. Maybe he should join those TikTokers who made seminars out of canvas pages about something that barely was a secret but called it ‘Guide to Happiness’.

At least, he was about to be home, his haven. Hongjoong had been thrilled when he found the under-the-roof apartment because there was no AC and the building was rundown, the rent was cheap but he loved it because he easily managed to access the roof, there was nothing more beautiful than allowing himself to sulk in loneliness while watching the never sleeping city.

It was almost poetic, wasn’t it?

There also used to be the benefit of being the only one who did not put some shutters on the window which was the entrance to the fire stairs. The view was ugly, but it was handy to simply take the stairs and get right up.

Well, it used to be because the new tenant who moved into the apartment right underneath him did not seem to share the sentiment of the others, the window was always wide open and it would be creepy if he would rush past it.

He lurked up but Hongjoong noticed immediately how it was open again and he sighed, muttering to himself as he made the way up to the longer stairs. Too many. He dodged a few abandoned shoes of children in front of one, a growling dog at the third, and survived!

“I am home.”

When he unlocked the door, silence greeted him. There no longer was anyone who rushed over to smile and welcome him back but now, he was not even sure if that ever happened or merely being an imagination, an altered memory.

His apartment was small but that was okay, he didn’t need a living room and only having a tiny shower made being short less tragic.

While Hongjoong lived up to the cliche of being a poor artist, at least he did not need too much space.

His gaze went over the sketches still scattered over the kitchen table, picking one up: “Guess, you aren’t it either, sorry.” Unlike that awful woman, he carefully formed a small pile and put it in a paper tray for all his rejected designs, so far it had been every single one he offered to them.

Maybe it was time to give up…

No, this was not the time to cry and get sad! Urgh, hard enough to admit he had been such a crybaby when moving here, the way how his heart ached and he was lost among strangers. It was when he started smoking again, something he stopped years ago but now.

There was nobody who would complain about the smell.

Hongjoong slipped into the shower, running water always helped to wash away thoughts, he just imagined it as he carefully cleaned every inch before enjoying the feeling of a fresh pair of clothes and ruffling his hair with a towel.

“Attempt number seven it is,” he sat down, pulling over his tablet when a loud ringing sound interrupted the early hours of the night, enough to make him jump.

“The fuck?!” Hongjoong blinked, looking around but he was sure he didn’t even own an old-fashioned alarm clock. As the sound wouldn’t stop, he rushed to the window, lurking out only to realize it must be coming from your place. Why would you have an alarm clock going off at nine?!

Nobody else seemed to be interrupted by it but Hongjoong and he was working best at night. As nothing happened, he figured you probably just forgot to turn it off before leaving, how reckless to leave your window open in New York!

There was clear hesitation before he climbed out of his window, taking down the stairs: “Screw this…”

Your window was wide open, the curtains softly floating outside, all lights on. Your place was just a little bigger than his but you surely put more effort in! The walls were painted in a comfortable olive green, plants matched perfectly with the white furniture and there was a large gaming setup he did not really expect but then, what did he know about you? The bed was covered with far too many pillows but there it was, the one causing so much trouble.

The alarm clock had the shape of a flower, it was cute and he wondered how somebody who liked such a style would move to this part of the city…

“What do I do?” Hongjoong looked around. He counted to one hundred. There was nobody in sight, the sound drove him insane and he did not want you to get back home just to find your expensive equipment stolen. The world was an asshole to him but he intended to be better.

He swallowed and slipped inside your home, quick steps leading to the damn noisy item to turn it off. At that moment, the bathroom door opened and you walked inside, holding likely a few bottles of soap you just switched out, your gazes met and he could see how your face turned red, just like his own, and the next second, there was a small scream and you started to throw shampoo bottles at him.

Hongjoong tried to dodge them, dropping the alarm clock in the attempt and grabbed one of your pillows to protect himself.

“Hold on! Stop throwing things at me”, he called out but now you seemed angry.

“Why would I do this?! You just broke into my apartment! A thief? Gosh, you are one of those perverts, aren’t you?” You were one burst of energy, he had to give you that. Hongjoong was about to say something when he fell backward over another pillow.

His hands lifted up into the air, praying you’d not murder him with hair conditioner: “Hold on, hold on. I live above you! Your alarm wouldn’t stop and I thought you left so I meant to close the window, lots of robberies in this neighborhood!”

While your face remained distrustful, you held your movement in the middle of the air, frowning, doubting.

“Which neighbor breaks into a place to turn off an alarm bell?” you questioned and that was a good question. Who would have done that?

“Well, I actually work at night, I need a little bit of silence but how am I supposed to do this with that noise?” he pointed at the alarm once more and this time, you considered his words.

“Fine, let’s say it is the truth. It’s still weird, you could have used the staircase and just knocked on the door like any other angry neighbor would.”

That was… a very good point.

“I should have done that,” he admitted and slowly stood again. You were looking at him, maybe considering how he barely looked like a threat, considering he was wearing pajama pants and a hoodie with a washed-out brand name.

“Alright, I will forget about it. Now get out!” you pointed towards the window and Hongjoong found himself blushing in embarrassment. he clapped his hands, bowing slightly: “I promise to knock next time.”

As you hurried over, you wondered if he had seen right and there was a small smile on your lips as he carefully slipped out. As he turned around on the fire escape, you closed the window, and your gazes met for a moment, he was giving you a tiny wave before you rolled your eyes and closed your curtains.

Hongjoong stood there, blinking for a moment until he sighed and made his way upstairs, just to be greeted with the wind likely having shut his own, forcing him to go all the way down like that and up to his apartment. Thankfully he didn’t lock the door yet when he came home earlier.

“Tch, such a reckless neighbor,” he smiled.

“Oh? Oh! This is new!” Wooyoung fished the box with flower-shaped chocolate out of the paper bag. Hongjoong made a face, trying to snatch it but the younger grinned, holding it up.

“They are also kind of expensive, do you have a crush?” It took some effort but eventually, he stole his box bag and gave it to San who was scanning them.

“I am not in love, I just kind of pissed off one of my neighbors and now I intend to make it up somehow since they live in the apartment right underneath me,” he put quite a bit of effort in leaving out as many details as possible because Wooyoung would be curious enough to just knock on your window to see himself.

“Right, you said somebody moved into the empty apartment? Took some time, you mentioned that it was already without a tenant when you moved in.”

He appreciated the cashier was offering some distraction to his best friend’s consideration of just going with Hongjoong, he did not need to say it out loud for the older to guess as much.

“Ah yeah, the landlord was surprised when he offered that one but I asked about the rooftop apartment instead. I just like the peace and quiet, nobody above me, all that,” he mumbled, rubbing a hand over his neck.

“The Lone artist above the rooftops of New York City, romantic if you asked me,” Wooyoung winked and grabbed his backpack. “Anyway, time for training, call you later San!” He waved and rushed off, the other just smiled before handing the grocery bag to Hongjoong.

“I am sure the person knows to appreciate it, this is the first time I have seen you try and … well, mention to interact with anyone outside of this store.”

Hongjoong tried his best not to swallow hard. While San only was having a casual conversation, he called out something that the artist had tried to avoid admitting: he had dodged everyone and everything ever since coming here.

The hurt was still too deep, the way the person closest to him, he smiled at and kissed every day, threw him away like trash and everyone else saying he should understand how it certainly wasn’t an easy life rather than taking his side

or just offer comfort.

He could have used a hug.

Now, it was hard to let anyone in. San and Wooyoung were nice but they just were two guys working at a grocery store that was conveniently close to his apartment, as kind as they seemed.

“I just really like living here, sure, the neighborhood’s a bit … tense at times but otherwise, the rent is really cheap and the place is great to work at, not much noise considering we are in a city of this size.”

San was looking at you, it was hard to tell if he took it or simply decided to keep his thoughts to himself but he smiled: “Well, just make sure to also enjoy the city, not only busy yourself with work. I know, artists are said to do that but yeah.”

It was as if he wanted to say more but Hongjoong already waved in tiny, grabbing his bag: “Speaking of that, I have a deadline so I better be going. Thanks again.”

Hongjoong was out the moment after, he could not hear San’s deep sigh when the bell rang once more.

He spent a good amount of time drawing a little doodle that looked like your alarm clock, looking upset and cursing about that weird guy in a little thought bubble. Next to it, Hongjoong wrote, "Sorry for having broken into your place, heard this chocolate is great." He was pleased with the result and carefully stepped outside his window, placing the little delivery right by your window, knocking against the glass, and he rushed upstairs, jumping into his own home as he waited for the noise of you opening.

His heart was beating loudly when he lurked around the corner, hearing you sigh but in a pleasant way. He did not dare to fully look, biting your lip but after a very long minute, he could hear your voice: "Just knock next time you want to say hello."

Your laugh was so soft and cute.

He grinned when the window was shut a moment later and the chocolate was gone.

Hongjoong had a talent for forgetting about time when he was working and it was less about the deadline and more so about his passion. He always loved to draw, it had been his escape from a young age and he pushed through it, no matter the concerns of everyone around him. He never wanted to be rich, just do what he loved and make enough to be able to live from it.

In a way he did, his old apartment was small but nice with a lovely view and enough space for two. Looking back, he had been a fool how he thought that his ex would enjoy it, that she liked they took their time and both added to a dream of a larger home. The series he illustrated with a few other artists for a children's magazine was doing well then, he knew it was one of the favorites in consideration of being further produced with another spin-off when it happened, Hongjoong quit.

Just like most, he also worked digitally but when he was in the early stages, he often liked to reach out for old-fashioned paper, getting a few sketches done. It was when his pencil rolled from the table that he pulled the chunky headphones from his ears to pick it up when he heard it for the first time.

It was a quiet sob, the kind where you hated yourself and just wanted to stop but your body was boycotting you, ignoring your quiet pleas for it to stop. Hongjoong had done the same for a while after coming to New York but somehow, yours hit him more than he expected. The way you faced him when he came in, the conversation after.

He should know better than assuming you were a confident person just doing your thing.

His slim figure pressed against the wall next to the open window when he listened to how you cried.

It was strange, when the heart ached, even a city like this could fall in utter silence, making one feel even more alone. He bit his lip, it was hard to listen to it and when he finally convinced himself that checking on you was more important than his fear of interrupting, the small clicking sound to pull his window fully open seemed to be enough to chase you inside like a bird fleeing from busy human steps.

All Hongjoong managed to see was the way how your lights turned off and for a moment, he wondered if you maybe prayed that he did not come down to see, that the weird guy above you just opened his window to let him some refreshing air in at the end of Summer.

He was trying to recall all of those nights after you moved in, where he kept his window open and so did you. What did he hear then? There had been that clicking sound, he could hear it any time he ended up sneaking up to the roof to smoke a cigarette. He never put much thought into it but now, you always seemed to be typing on your keyboard and you were home all the time, just like he was.

When he returned from groceries, your lights were on, and when he lurked outside in the morning, the window open.

In a movie, he probably would have thought more about it and told himself to see if it would happen again. Maybe you just had a bad day. Maybe you were just going through a hard breakup.

Just.

Maybe, if anyone had been more gentle with Hongjoong, he'd not have felt the need to move far away in a desperate attempt of moving on.

No, things would have been different if people would have acted and wasted less time guessing.

"Screw this," he cursed and walked over to the mirror. He was trying to fix his hair but it was a mess so he grabbed a hoodie and put on some summer shorts, cigarettes shoved inside of his pockets, two bottles of soda in each hand.

If you thought he was insane after this, he could live with it, really. He preferred it above having to regret wondering what happened tonight.

Hongjoong took two stairs at once until he was in front of your windows, curtains closed and while it was dark, he could see a small gleam of light, likely from your phone. He took a deep breath before knocking again.

"Hi there, it's me. Again... Uh I am Hongjoong! I know I am probably starting to get annoying, and if you decide to not answer, please just do not call the police.... I was just thinking, maybe you want to have a soda with me? I can't slepe either, I tend to work through the night.

He rambled because this was how he found comfort, he did not need to hear specific words, just little affirmation, a gesture of love. It could be something silly.

When you did not answer, he bit his lip and looked around: "Uh, I will sit down here and smoke one cigarette. If you decide not to come when it's done, I promise I go back up. I'll leave you one bottle there."

He called, placed it down carefully, and moved over to the stairs, taking a few up before sitting down, opening his own drink before lightening the cigarette.

He was exhaling only for the first time when the window opened: "You know, smoking is super unhealthy?"

Your voice did not indicate that you were crying but he could see your eyes still being red and puffy. Hongjoong looked at you like you were amazing just like that.

"You are right, I admit, I only picked the habit up recently again."

He blinked surprised when you grabbed the bottle and sat down by his side, just to take the cigarette away and inhale the smoke. He was blushing, not having expected such a bold move after you cried.

"Guess, we can make it a bad habit just for tonight then," you breathed and used the stairs to open the bottle, drinking it more like it was a party drink rather than ordinary soda, offering the cigarette back.

Hongjoong was in awe, he did not assume you would be so outgoing, although he had no doubt you were brave considering the way you two encountered face to face for the first time. The thought let him grin a little: "Sounds good to me."

His gaze wandered back over the not-that-pretty view: "The sight from the roof is pretty amazing, not sure if you maybe want to have a look another night. I can show you how to get up there."

You laughed, relaxing back: "Why am I not surprised you went up there?"

The man looked innocently: "Well, I have a lot of time to think when I am settling for a design."

The word seemed to gain your interest and you leaned in: "You work at night and that doodle was really cute. Is it something artistic you are doing for a living?" The question was fair and straightforward, leading him to shrug just a little. Most people were disappointed about the answer, somehow it did not seem to be a popular idea when it came to art.

"I work as an illustrator for children's books or that is the preferred one, I also do magazines or commercial designs for such. As for books, I do both, the traditional ones for young kids where the images carry most of the story but I also occasionally take scenes from books for older audiences, you know, mainly those right before young adults where you find little images between the chapters? Mh, I dream to make one exactly in the design I want but for now, I am stuck to work with criteria set by the publishers."

Hongjoong learned to explain what he was doing right away because when it came to illustrations, people often thought about the really expensive artworks connected to infamous titles. You did not really seem to bother with the clichés, instead, your face was so bright and excited, that he was feeling shy.

"That's so cool? I only got into reading because of those kinds of books. I mean, I get it, you are supposed to go wild with your imagination when it comes to reading but I always preferred those pages that told me what to expect but that makes sense, I'm a number person. I like facts."

Numbers, huh.

"This is the very infamous part where I offer to you that if you ever want to see something, knock on my window any time or well, I guess. You have all the right to just walk in through my window. I am awful and my phone is my alarm clock tho," he teased with a more confident grin and you returned it gladly.

"I will keep it in mind, Hongjoong." You stretched.

"It's getting late and you wasted your cigarette, I will take that as a sign to withdraw," you smiled and picked up your bottle, standing. The artist was a little disappointed but it was fair, he knew it had been far after midnight when he heard you crying but now, he was happy to see you relaxed.

"Maybe I will come back to your offer," you hummed and walked down to your window. "Oh, by the way, I am __ and don't be too disappointed, I am a software engineer. That is also why I am home all the time, the bliss of being able to dodge offices but I feel, that you know well."

As you slipped inside, you were about to close the window before lurking out again: "The chocolate was tasty, thank you."

As the window shut, Hongjoong stood there, smiling to himself.

He didn't remember ever having felt as tense in the past when handing in drafts. His old publisher had been a guy in his early 60s and even in the early stages of Hongjoong's 'career', supporting them to test their own ideas within the limits of the work. Something about getting a poor payment but at least, being able to do their thing.

There was yet a small voice of hope, one that told him this piece of paper would not be torn apart because the woman was looking at it far longer than she had at any other of his earlier designs. After hanging out with you, Hongjoong had worked nonstop, a new adrenaline rush that helped him get done with it.

Finally, he exhaled when she leaned back, placing it on the desk: "Finally, something we can work at. I approve of the cats, I expect a more detailed version at the end of the week. The dogs are too ... basic. There is just nothing memorable about them, I want two pairs of options for them. That would be all, Mister Kim."

Hongjoong could live with that! The cats were the story's main protagonists about a pair of cat siblings moving with their owners to a new city and dealing with all of the changes. Yeah, maybe it did not seem like a deep story, just another book to offer comfort to kids moving but the name on both, the writer and label were big... opening doors. What else did he have left than his career and maybe, the nagging desire to show everyone how he could do it?

I would rather be happy tho, and loved.

He only gave her a quick nod as she seemed busy again, slipping out of the office. "Why is this such a pain...." he mumbled and checked his phone. Would it be weird or too early to ask you for your number? Hongjoong hadn't given it to anyone, well except San because he got permission to use the convenience store as a secondary address, should packages fail to be delivered to his door.

Hongjoong could not deny that he was tempted to look you up online but he did not log into any of his accounts since coming to New York. If anything... he did not even tell anyone. He just sold everything, quit his job, and moved. The only person who knew was his older brother, who had been supportive unlike the rest of the family but accepted his wish to remain hidden for some time.

"Honjgoong!"

Hearing his name out in the open made him wince and he blushed when he noticed it was you who called out for him. You were smiling, waving confidently, ignoring gazes. Maybe you really just had a tough day last night. It was so hard to imagine you being somebody who cried a lot.

"Seeing you out in the wild, I am scared," he teased with a grin, walking to your side. You pointed at the heavy bags with groceries, making him realize what you wanted.

"I see how it is, somebody asking me to make the stairs my workout," he chuckled as you looked innocently. "How about, we call it quits then, for good? And in return, you can use the fire escape as often as you want, no worries. You did start to avoid doing that because of me, didn't you?"

He was surprised by the question: "Uh... how do you know about that?"

You laughed and it was sweet, he preferred seeing you happy: "Well, when I signed the contract, the owner told me the guy above likes to take them so he advised me to put something in front of the window but then, nobody ever came."

It was your way to tell him you appreciated he tried to think of your comfort, wasn't it?

"If you are sure, I rather like walking them. I got one of those window locks, I found them on a website and they are really handy. I just prefer it because the dog from the lady on the third floor, he hates me," he admitted.

It seemed to amuse you: "Not surprised, you remind me of a cat or maybe more of a fox? Mh, I love them equally, pick the one you prefer." You rushed ahead while he took the bags, rubbing a hand over his face. Ah, it was a talent of yours, wasn't it? Making him blush.

Thankfully, it wasn't too far from the building and Hongjoong got up all the bags in no time.

"Do you want to come in?" your offer showed a hint of hesitation and Hongjoong was overworrying again. Would it be strange to accept it? Was he too keen on showing how he really would like it?

"Sure, I have some time until nightfall. I have to update some of the designs, they finally accepted two of them," he made sure not to stare, not only to be polite but he already had seen your apartment when he broke in last time.

You opened the fridge and offered him a bottle of cool water, one he gladly accepted. "You said, you do like computer things... Don't mind me, I do not know a whole lot about it. I admit, when I was here last time, I thought you might be a gamer."

His Ex used to watch Twitch streams, something about finding them relaxing.

He regretted the question the instant he asked because of how your expressions slipped.

"Ah, you could say I used to enjoy gaming? It was something I did with a ... former friend." The way you reacted hinted likely it must have been a really good friend, or why else would you look so hurt about saying such a thing` Friendships ended so often, yet this one must have meant a lot to you.

Hongjoong tried not to read too much into your expressions, he did not know you well enough to have a right of doing so, likely just misreading it.

"I am sorry to hear. My friends and family weren't always so keen on my obsession with working for book illustrations either. I would not say they meant to tell me to instead work a proper job but they thought, I should just work for some big company that needs them for ads and such but that is just so soulless, you know?"

His confession was too honest but he felt comfortable with you, sharing it. Maybe it really was because you were strangers and you did not know him or his past, you wouldn't judge him based on that.

He prayed you'd not. You seemed to think about it before saying with the kindest smile: "Following your dreams is important, Hongjoong. I get that, families always mean well but sometimes, we have to figure things out on our own."

He was too nervous to offer a good answer.

"Anyway!" the quick smile was forced but he accepted it. "You said, you know how to get up on the roof? I was thinking, we could do it tonight? It sounds silly but there will be a star shower... I do not think we can see it in a city like this but we can pretend to! I shopped for some snacks, we can make it our own little event."

Hongjoong blinked, eyes big when you invited him: "Oh! Sure! I can make some time, just knock on my window!" He did not have the time based on the deadline... but he would get it done for you! Sounded like time to fight the habit of sleeping in and work during sunlight hours for a change.

"Awesome, I'm excited then!"

There was not too much else to be said it seemed, your thoughts clearly elsewhere, and Hongjoong could only guess it was because of your friend.

The illustrator spent an hour trying to pick an outfit. Tanktop, skinny jeans, some jewelry, he even picked a barret he hadn't worn in ages but it seemed the best way to deal with his hair, even his nails were repainted before he climbed up and prepared a small cozy corner, a blanket, two pillows and a few LED candles.

By the time you knocked on his window, he was almost terrified he made it look too much like a date but then, he looked at you and it seemed, you had a similar mindset. You looked stunning, and the backpack hinted you got more than a few snacks.

"You look amazing," Hongjoong complimented, he liked your style. "Sush, you sure you aren't a model and just failed to tell me?" You brought up the cliche line but it made him laugh: "Well, I tried."

As he joined you, he led you up the stairs which ended abruptly. "If you pull here, there is actually a hidden ladder," he explained and showed it to you. "Very handy, and you can simply pull it up from up there so nobody sees it."

You seemed amazed just how simple it was and carefully climbed up first.

"Oh Hongjoong, this is so pretty!" you gasped, looking at his little setup. The sun vanished just a little while ago and the candles created a nice atmosphere.

"Well, how often does one get invited to star gazing at my age? I thought it would be nice," he explained, chewing his lip as he helped you take off the backpack.

"Well, I guess it is good then I brought an entire picnic!" Indeed, you did but it wasn't just snacks, you prepared the meal obviously yourself and it made him wonder. Did anyone other than his mother ever do this for him?

"This looks delicious!" he clapped his hands together, looking over it.

"Mh, I cannot promise the taste can live up to the looks because it has been a while since I made most of these dishes," you admitted and offered him a pair of chopsticks but he shook his head: "It already smells great, and nothing can betray that."

You seemed to enjoy how expressive Hongjoong was in showing just how much he loved your cooking. His face did not manage to hide it but it was to no surprise, not only because it was tasty but because he had been living off ramyun for the past couple of months due to his cut salary.

"This is so good, I will vote for you as home cook of the year," he mumbled between trying to chew and swallowing.

"Hongjoong, are you sure you ate in the past month or two? You are eating like you were about to starve," you smiled but there was a little concern in your voice as you ate slowly.

The artist carefully placed his chopsticks aside, contemplating if it was okay to be so honest but since he already shared quite a bit with you, it seemed fair.

"To be honest, I came here a little unplanned. I got this really amazing deal or it sounded like that but the publisher CEO lady has rejected all of my designs of the past few months and they cut my salary in half every time. I get around with some savings but food wasn't on top of my priority list."

Now you did seem concerned and sighed: "You know what? She is stupid! I looked up your work and it's so cute? I mean it! I know nothing about that business branch but I like it, they are cute and as a kid, I'd have loved them but also... I used to share a place with somebody and I have a hard time getting rid of the habit of cooking more than I need. How about you come over here and then, and pick up the rest? I hate to throw away so much."

Did you look him up? Oh, that was unexpected. Hongjoong was just looking at you in awe and you seemed a little confused by it.

"You do not have to, of course!" It seemed you both were good at misreading.

He hurried to wave his hands: "Oh no! I'd love that! I just... was a little shy when you looked it up. I appreciate it. If you ever need a doodle or like ... anything drawn, let me know. I like doing it for people."

As he looked at you somehow, it felt like you two were the same. Something happened which brought you here, leaving behind a very different life but now that you sat in front of him like that, Hongjoong was so grateful and he tried to place the meaning of his heart beating just a little too enthusiastically right now.

"You know, when I was in high school, I was befriended with this really amazing guy, Hwa. He moved away with his parents before graduation but after exams, when we both knew we screwed up really badly. He would drag me up to the rooftop of our school and play silly songs from the early 2000s we danced to. I know that sounds insane but how about... we do that?"

Hongjoong didn't think about Seonghwa in a long time. He tried to find him online a few years ago but it seemed the older did not think too much about social media either.

"You want to dance?" you chuckled and checked your phone: "Well, I'd say we have another hour until the promised star shower so let's do it. You will have to provide the music tho, I forgot to close my Spotify on my computer."

Hongjoong grinned: "No worries, I got us."

It was funny but he remembered the song and there was an entire playlist dedicated to the vibe he wanted to go for. Relaxed and soft, a little silly but not embarrassing. He ensured the volume wouldn't cause too much attention but you did not seem to care at all.

When the melody and the lyrics began you just let go. Hongjoong swallowed as he watched you and for the first time in a long time, suddenly he was feeling... excited? It was different from a grand job offer or moving, it was more like that telling himself life would go on actually was real. That good things still would happen if he just kept on going.

"What are you waiting for? Don't tell me you are getting shy now," you moved closer to him, taking his hands without hesitation before starting to dance together. The shuffle was doing a good job because it went from energetic, leading to the two of you just silly jumping and vibing to something a little slower and before he knew it, his arms were curled around your figure and you rested your head against his shoulder as you moved with the music.

"This is nice," you whispered, your gaze seemed to be far off in the distance. "I forgot how nice it can be just like that." You sighed deeply without saying anything else but Hongjoong quietly agreed as his hug tightened a little. "It really is."

It was only when your phone started to ring and you withdrew that he was a little disappointed. "Okay, time for the stars!" you smiled, looking around before glancing back at the blanket. "Let's do it like we are in the countryside!"

Without hesitation, you grabbed a pillow and laid down, looking up to the sky which was just dark, the light of electricity stealing the beauty of the night. Hongjoong laid down next to you, looking up.

"Isn't this the most beautiful night sky you have ever seen?" you gasped, pointing towards nothing: "There they are! Okay, time to make your wish but remember, you can't tell anyone!"

You were so bright and outgoing, Hongjoong envied you but also quietly was thankful how you tickled this out of him again. Even before his breakup, he had been so busy struggling with work and expectations, when did he act so carefree for the last time?

"Working on the wish," he whispered and closed his eyes.

His wish for life never changed: be happy, together with people who truly loved and cherished him and he'd do the same for them.

He winced when he felt your cool hand reaching out, squeezing him and his head turned around, the beret slipped from his hair as your gazes locked. There was another moment of hesitation but you rolled onto your side, your eyes saying what words did not manage but they did not need to as you slowly closed them. Hongjoong's hand was placed on your cheek and you met in the middle into a tender kiss.

It was nothing breathtaking like in the movies, much more a kiss between students who never kissed before but yet, were so lost in the moment that they didn't worry. It only lasted for a little before your lips parted: "Guess, my wish already came true just now."

Hongjoong blushed, he wanted to say more but there was a small quacking sound. The two of you sat up immediately.

"Did you hear that?" you whispered. Hongjoong nodded: "Nobody ever comes up here and I come here almost every day since I moved in." You exchanged a few gazes before carefully standing up, following him closely, hiding behind the chimney.

Suddenly, a large figure dressed all in black jumped up like a ninja in a movie. You gasped but Hongjoong just blinked.

"Wooyoung?!"

"Wooyoung?"

"Wooyoung!"

San's figure showed up right behind his best friend, who was tugging on his jacket, clearly catching his breath. "I told you not to do this!" The younger man was just grinning: "But I had to make sure I left an impression!"

You chuckled as Hongjoong pointed to you that it was okay.

"I take it those are your friends?"

The word made Hongjoong blink. He saw these two idiots almost on a daily base now, he talked to them and while he never shared any personal details, they never treated him like other customers or a stranger.

He really did a great job on distancing, didn't he? Considering he claimed to have nobody but just made friends without realizing it.

"Something like that," Hongjoong said with a quick smile but Wooyoung already pulled him closer, pressing his cheek against his. "Sh, he is just shy! We are the best buddies!"

Hongjoong yelped and now was sparring with Wooyoung while San rubbed a hand over the back of his neck: "Sorry, we didn't mean to interrupt your date. Wooyoung has a hard time keeping his curiosity in check."

You hummed, knowing Hongjoong didn't hear it. Maybe it was for the better.

"That's okay. Actually, that's what I like about him. He's chaotic, just like me."

You clasped your hands together, cheering. "So Wooyoung! We got some food left, are you hungry?"

The younger stopped, grinning: "Always!"

Hongjoong groaned when he was woken up by loud noises coming from the staircase. He rolled onto his side, face lit up by his phone screen. It wasn't even seven but for some reason, it seemed neighbors decided to make a fuss. There was screaming, he was sure about that.

He grabbed a pair of sneakers, not caring too much about all else and decided to have a look because it seemed a little too loud considering you and an elderly woman lived the floor underneath.

The moment he recognized your voice, Hongjoong stopped all logical thinking, he took two stairs at once to face a very upstyled woman around his age. Expensive brands and overdone makeup, there was an envelope open, torn paper on the ground, and you were all in tears.

"What's going on?!" Hongjoong rushed to your side but you barely seemed to recognize him.

"How did you even find out where I live?! I won't sign this just go!" you yelled and it seemed to make the woman just more angry.

"___, stop being so stubborn! Just sign the damn rights! You are not part of the team anymore, you have no use for the brand name! Just sign it and we never have to meet again!"

By now, more neighbors had come and the least Hongjoong wanted for you was to deal with the police.

"Hey, get in. I will take care of it," he whispered to you, both of his hands on your cheeks to force you to look at him through teary eyes. It was when you finally realized you weren't alone, you swallowed hard, nodded but carefully withdrew. When the woman tried to get in, Hongjoong pushed her back.

"If you do not leave now, we will call the police! If you have any needs, use a lawyer!" he remembered how his mother watched those shows when he was little, they always just yelled about lawyers.

"Who are you? Loverboy? God, how can one person fall so low? Living in this shithole and now this?" she hissed, spitting on the ground before leaving. Hongjoong waited to ensure she'd not get back up before he slipped inside, closing your door.

You had curled up on your bed and he was a little overwhelmed but it did not matter. Hongjoong called out your name gently as he sat down on the edge of the bed, wanting to make sure you knew he was there, maybe his way of asking for permission.

When you did not move, he curled his arms around you to pull you tight like back on the rooftop, hand gently patting over your back. He wasn't going to tell you it would be okay or ask you to stop crying because he knew that sometimes, mind or body did not want to, couldn't.

All one needed sometimes, was a hug and somebody there with you.

It was hard to say just how much time passed when you turned around slowly. Hongjoong loosened the hug a little without moving back and you looked at him.

"You do not have to tell me anything," he assured in his soft voice but you shook your head slowly. "I want to... it just... it's embarrassing."

This time, it was he who shook his head: "Nothing that makes you feel sad ever is embarrassing, ___. Your feelings matter, you know?"

He was relieved to see it brought a little smile to your lips.

"You know, that also is true for you. If you are sad... it's okay. I understand it. Please don't feel like you have to hide it."

So you did look right through him after all: "You got me there... It is hard to admit weakness... I guess, for me at least. I was hurt by the people I cared for the most. Now, it is hard, like how to let them in again, how to trust?"

Your fingers gently reached out, brushing over his cheeks and he held still like if he moved, you might vanish into thin air.

"I get that," you admitted. "You see, that woman used to be my best friend since middle school. A few years ago, we started to stream together for fun. I made good money with my job, so I bought the equipment and I really was okay playing more of a background role. We worked on it together but she was the star, I didn't mind she also streamed a lot without me but then, numbers rose and there was a sponsorship she did not tell me about. One day, I got home from my office, and all the equipment was gone, together with my best friend. I was locked out of the accounts, the savings I kept at home for emergencies were stolen, and well. She spread some nasty rumors about how I was jealous and things got ugly... So I moved here. It is hard, your best friend is usually the person you rely on for comfort when something awful happens but now, there was nobody and I am stupid, the type of person that fully believes in a friendship."

It was sad, to think how money always ruined everything, love and friendship. Hongjoong watched you as you spoke, going more into the details and he made sure to listen well, to show you that he didn't only do it because you two kissed or because of you crying. He really cared about you and wanted to understand you better so he did not have to fear again, that imagine of you alone on the fire escape.

"There is nothing awkward or embarrassing about your feelings. You trusted and lost her. You tried your best to start over, leave it behind but she cannot let it be for selfish reasons," Hongjoong concluded and you finally relaxed.

"Thank you for listening.... that really helped," you whispered. "I... if you ever want to..."

Hongjoong wondered for a moment. Did he want to talk about it?

Yes, but...

"Honestly, I am not sure if I am really ready yet to talk about it but one day... I will," he promised and placed a gentle kiss on top of your head.

"How about I make you some tea?" he offered with a smile as you looked at him, you nodded and you two slowly sat up. Hongjoong was very determined to wrap you properly in a blanket burrito, ruffling your hair gently before moving over to your kitchen. He could feel your eyes on him as he moved but he did not mind it.

A few minutes later, he handed you a cup of yasmin tea and you hugged it carefully, sipping on it.

"You make a very cute blanket cat," he teased, hoping to cheer you up. "Maybe one day, you will let me draw you like that." And finally, there it was, your beautiful laugh. "I will think about it."

Hongjoong sat down by your side, he turned on the TV and you relaxed against him as you watched a random show just to get your mind off and sipped your tea. It wasn't until there was a more gentle knock on the door and the familiar voice of the elderly lady.

"I will get it," he offered and rushed over. She seemed a little concerned: "My, so much noise in the early morning. Such an unpleasant woman. I wanted to see if everything is alright but I also noted, that your door is wide open Mister Kim."

His cheeks flushed as he realized, he rushed out earlier without bringing his key or closing it. "OH! Yes, thank you so much," he bowed and it made her chuckle: "You are very welcome. Fear not, Mister Corner on the second floor left his dog outside, I have no doubt nobody will dare to make the way upstairs today."

As she wiggled away, Hongjoong turned around but you smiled. "It is okay, I am feeling better. Thank you for looking out for me. I will see you later?"

He did not want to go but it likely was a good idea to give you some space. "Count on it."

As much as he hated it, he needed to put some time into work if he intended to finish everything within the deadline but now that Hongjoong had a reason to work extra hard, he was doing it no problem and within a few hours, he finished a few sketches. Those would do for angry CEO and he could dedicate his evening toward you.

He was taking his phone from his charger when he noticed a small notification. Hongjoong turned off such with the exception of receiving one when somebody new followed him. To his surprise, the name of his latest follower was 'Hwastar' and there was only one person who would use something like that.

It took him a few minutes to remember his password, he ignored all other messages other than the one of the follow and he followed back. Within a few minutes, a message popped up. It really was Seonghwa and to Hongjoong's surprise, the man was in New York, asking to meet.

When Hongjoong knocked on your door and you did not answer, he guessed you were asleep and he decided to go for it. Seonghwa had picked a cute coffee shop, something that suited him. While he looked the same, he was yet a whole new man. Tall, well-built and stylish, the long hair suited him well but the smile was as gentle as when they saw each other for the last time. "Joong! It's been too long!"

There was a quick hug before they sat down, he was sipping on a drink. "You look good, Joongie!" Hongjoong glanced down, he barely could say he wore anything unique but then, he just really had gotten used to his style. "Not like you who seems to go to fashion week."

Seonghwa blushed a little before waving his hand: "Nah, I work for a small publisher." Hongjoong wasn't surprised to hear it. Seonghwa always loved to read and was great with all kinds of people "That's great! I am glad it worked out for you."

His old friend smiled before to the younger's surprise, he pulled out one of the children's books Hongjoong worked on as part of a team.

"I only recently moved to New York because we moved our office here. When I walked through some bookstores, I came across this one. I am glad to see you still do art... When I went home last time, my mom said you left and nobody really knew where you went."

So he did hear about it, huh?

"Breakups can be ugly, I guess I wanted to start over." Hongjoong finally said what he had not to anyone until now. It was hard to say it out loud because that way, there was no chance to deny it, to hide the truth about the why, and how it had come to this. Maybe because there was this old trust he had for Hwa that made him say it out loud now but it was impossible to hide the bitterness in his voice.

Seonghwa had an understanding, sad smile on his lips: "I know you loved her. You two already dated back then... but Hongjoong... I am also proud you are moving on, and didn't stop."

It really was difficult to let negative emotions take over when Seonghwa looked at him like that. He pulled out his business card: "I know you are currently working with a bigger name but we actually finally expanded to books that require some illustrations and my boss would love to meet you. Why don't you think about it? The offer is there, no expiration, whenever you want."

Hongjoong accepted it with surprise, looking at the cursive font he was sure was inspired by his friend's handwriting.

How did things finally fall in line? Was it because he was ready to let them?

Hongjoong looked up and smiled: "I will definitely call."

When he came back, it had gotten dark. As Hongjoong took the fire escape up, your window was wide open and you sat on the stairs, the wind playing with your hair and you seemed lost in thoughts but the moment you saw him, the way you smiled, he knew.

His heart finally exhaled, it held its breath for so long, scared of what would happen if it let go of all that was and no longer would be.

Now it knew it was okay. Breathing would hurt for a little while but eventually, the beat would fall back in line as it should. Painful memories remained but it would keep beating.

The wisdom wasn't wrong, life went on.

Hongjoong smiled back as you made space for him and he got comfortable, his gaze wandering over the cityscape of New York or the bit you managed to get from here.

"it really is ugly, isn't it? I mean, all we get to see are the lower side of those giant ass buildings;" you joked and he laughed, shaking his head: "No, we do not but we have the rooftop. Not that I mind this."

He closed his eyes: "It really is a great escape, I would say, we need those stairs everywhere in the world."

You hummed: "I agree. Just that we need little stickers on the windows, one that tells us that if the alarm won't go off and the windows open, just throw a shoe or something."

Hongjoong smiled innocently at you: "But how do I get my shoe back then?"

You grinned: "Well, by knocking, of course. Then, I have an excuse to invite you in."

You did not need an excuse, he gladly would come and visit you. As you looked at each other, a certain silence spread, and Hongjoong played with one of his bracelets.

"I got my heart broken very badly," he admitted. "I guess, I was blind? Maybe I just was so in a habit of having it that way, that I did not think it could change? It hurt a lot and I ran like a coward but now, maybe this is just how I am. Sometimes, I do stupid things that turn out to be good but I am also blind like needing forever to realize how I made friends just by being myself or that I can feel again."

As he looked at you, turning around, you suddenly hugged him tightly. "It is okay, you do not have to tell me everything, ever or just take your time. I will be here, whenever you are ready," you whispered and Hongjoong was surprised.

Argh, he hated how tears started to dwell up at the corners of his eyes. This was all he wanted for so long but now, here you were and you were so much more than comfort, the promise of a future where his heart was beating not only to live but love. Again.

"I really like you," he admitted, voice soft and husky. "I like you too," you repeated and for a moment, you just held each other.

Hongjoong looked at you before he swallowed: "I'd like to see where it goes... but I might... need a bit of time before I am ready to go all ..."

You placed an index finger on his lips and smiled: "It's okay. We have all the time in the world. Summer is not over yet, many nights on the rooftops. Then, when autumn comes, we go chase leaves in Central Park, and in Winter, we can wear big fluffy coats and share a scarf. Then Spring, we plant flowers on the rooftop, and when Summer comes again. We will be here, together. Close or as friends, I will be here, count on it."

You really were so dreamy, it made sense now why your room looked the way it did.

And he loved how you were bold and silly and this.

"I cannot promise not to be spontaneous, and I might would like us to be more than friends," he admitted and you smirked: "I love random and wild."

You squeezed his hand and Hongjoong was looking forward to all seasons. In this lonely city full of people but now he had friends, old and new but most of all, you.

As you leaned in to kiss him, your alarm was going off. Hongjoong groaned but you tugged on his jacket.

"Sh, you can throw shampoo at it later," you promised and Hongjoong laughed.

"This alarm, it drives me insane," he whispered, your lips so close.

"So do you."

In the best way possible.

207 notes · View notes

naoristerling · 5 months ago

Text

the way we were before | oneshot

pairing: choi beomgyu x you

summary: you've been in love with beomgyu for as long as you've known him. deep down, you've always thought that he loved you, too; so when he tells you that he's engaged to another woman, you decide to break it all off after a nasty fight in which he shows you just how little you mean to him. a life-ending accident seems to put your feelings to rest, for good. just when you think it's all over, however, you awaken to a time before everything fell apart; and you're determined not to repeat the same mistakes. it's just that beomgyu can't seem to let you go.

genre: ANGST (literally so much angst it's not even funny), romance, second chancelau, rebirthlau, she falls first but he falls harder, possessive!beomgyu

warnings: mcd (and rebirth), somewhat graphic depictions of death/a corpse, suicidal thoughts, you can interpret a scene at the end as somewhat suggestive but not really

word count: 12.7k

notes: this work contains a lot of angst... and that's coming from ME. this might be too sad to the point of being corny but luckily i was born on the cob. don't be mean to me tho i'm going thru it rn. feedback also means the world 2 me <3

some things are a matter of course. for example, when you were initially paired with beomgyu for a project in your senior year of college, it was a matter of course to fall in love with him. supporting him morally and emotionally while he struggled throughout the rest of the year and well into his adult career? well, that was a matter of course, too. being with him every day, spending every spare second you had with the intention to make him happy, and giving up any concept of self-preservation in exchange for even a morsel of his affection? the answer doesn’t even need to be said. through it all, you’ve suspected that all of the intimacy that you’ve nurtured will inevitably end up with you two being together, of course.

you haven’t done any of it for the outcome. truly, you haven't. you make him happy simply because it makes you happy just to see him shine. he’s always been such a bright, sunny boy, and it’s always been enough just to be the one who helps maintain his true personality. it absolutely kills you to see him hurting, so it isn’t unusual to drop everything, be it work or social events, just to give him advice, give him comfort, or even just give him company. while he certainly doesn't show his affection towards you as profusely as you do to him, you know he cares about you. you can see it in the way he notices the little things about you, and in the way he listens to you with full attentiveness, even when you have nothing particularly interesting to tell him. when everyone talks over you, he tells you that he wants to hear what you have to say. and that’s enough.

with all of this in mind, you jump at his invitation to hang out at his apartment. he’s been a little distracted lately, cancelling plans together for reasons unknown. it’s been odd, to be sure, but you know he’ll tell you whatever’s been bothering him soon enough. he always does. you greet him with takeout from his favorite restaurant in tow as a surprise, and he takes it with that smile you love so damn much. he looks a little nervous, but happy, mostly, and you don’t have to wait for very long before he clears his throat and announces that he has something important to tell you.

you try not to get your hopes up, but who can blame you for feeling a hint of anticipation? maybe he’ll finally confess his feelings to you. maybe that’s why he’s been a little weird. naturally, since your mind is racing so much with romantic hypotheticals, of course it comes as a shock to you that he simply says, “i’m getting married.”

beomgyu, notorious for never even having the time nor interest to date around, is not only dating, but engaged. your jaw drops when he tells you that it all happened so quickly, he doesn’t even know how it unfolded. all he knows is that once he met her, a whirlwind romance swept him up, and just a few months have been more than enough for him to know that she’s the one. in fact, as he so fondly declares, he knew it from the very first moment he saw her at the dinner between the company you two work for and her own. the one where you were his “date”. you knew that it wasn’t a real proclamation of love or affection for him to ask you to accompany him, but you can’t say that you weren’t beaming with pride and validation at you being his natural choice. when you arrived at the dinner, you remember some of your coworkers jokingly whispering to you to just make it official already. you spent the night mostly by his side, looking up at him in admiration and love. as it turns out, the time you spent fawning over him was equally spent with him falling in love at first sight with another woman. you weren’t even apart for very long, but apparently he met her when you two broke apart to mingle.

it’s a kick in the chest, to put it bluntly. you feel the wind being knocked out of your lungs, and you’re struggling to breathe. the first time you caught a glimpse of him, you knew that any attempts to stop yourself from falling in love with him were hopeless. his smile, his charm, his playfulness immediately had you enraptured. you’ve always, always known that he didn't have a similar experience with you, but you just assumed that he simply isn’t the type to be caught up in such childish romanticism. you've always loved him outwardly and persistently, and you've shown him that in every single way you possibly know how. you dared to hope that maybe he was just the type to quietly reciprocate. obviously, with how emphatically he’s professing his love for another woman, you were very, very wrong.

“what's the matter? aren't you happy for me?” you struggle to answer, but he continues as if he doesn’t notice. “you know, i was thinking you could be, like, my best man. i've seen people do it these days—you'd pretty much be my best woman. i really want you to do it. there's no one else i can think of to—well, actually, there's soobin, but you’re my—”

“beomgyu,” you sharply interrupt, wetness pooling in your waterlines. beomgyu may be a little emotionally slow, but he’s not stupid. you know he knows that you've had feelings for him since forever ago. while it hurts, the fact of them being unrequited isn't what really gets you; it’s the fact that he doesn’t have the decency to just tell the truth. he took advantage of your love for him, always calling for you when he needed you, without ever really doing the same for you. “what… what about us?”

“what about us? you’re my best friend, and i want you to be part of my wedding,” he says smoothly, but you level him with a watery stare. as if realization finally dawns on him, he replies in a way you sincerely did not anticipate.

“c’mon, you know i don’t see you like that,” he chuckles with a wave of his hand, and you really would’ve rathered him say literally anything else. you’d prefer it if he had just punched you in the stomach, actually, because that would feel considerably better than this… this humiliation. you’re silent for a moment before you feel the tears you’ve been struggling to keep in cascade down your face. to his credit, he has the decency to look uncomfortable, and his playful smile drops. before he can reply, however, you speak again.

“you knew how i felt about you this whole fucking time, you were just too much of a coward to be honest with me,“ you declare. “if… if you had just told me, i would’ve understood. i-i would've—you didn't have to do it this way.”

“listen, i’m sorry that you’re hurt, but i really didn’t mean—”

“are you really sorry that i’m hurt, or are you sorry that i showed you i’m hurt?” you cut in. “beomgyu, you don’t care about how i feel, just as long as you don’t have to be the one to deal with it.”

“i’m—you're being unfair. i didn't want to hurt your feelings, i just wanted us to stay friends. what's so bad about that? don't you want that?” he seems genuinely puzzled, as if he can't wrap his head around why you'd ever be indignant at the fact that he stayed friends with you mainly for his own comfort.

“jesus christ, beomgyu! a real friend would never do this. you kept me around so i’d keep helping you with work, with life, with what the fuck ever. why can't you just be honest, after all this time? just don’t lie,” you spit.

“i'm not lying! you've helped me a lot, and i'm grateful for that, but you can't expect me to just owe you my feelings,” he snaps.

“that's not what this is about, and you know it,” you tremblingly reply, dignity cut right to the bone.

“seriously? that's exactly what this is about. you're the altruistic angel who does nothing wrong, and i'm just a fucking scumbag who takes advantage of you, right? well, i'm sorry, but it's not my fault that you're acting so goddamn crazy over something so stupid.” your eyes burn with an intensity so great, it feels like they're being seared out of your skull. in this moment, you realize that he will never, ever respect you enough to consider you worthy of being leveled with. he doesn't think you're even worth the time. you're his silly, lovesick best friend who's absolutely delusional to the point of being laughable for suggesting that he actually take you seriously, for once. and that revelation breaks you like nothing else.

you won’t do this anymore. you couldn’t even if you wanted to, and you don’t.

“i never want to see you again,” you sob, and while it may seem juvenile to say, you truly mean it. before you can hear beomgyu reply, you dash out of the building and to your car.

everything is a blur when you peel out of the parking lot and onto the road. your eyes are pouring out thick, hot tears, and you try your best to swipe them away as soon as they come, but it’s difficult when they’re seemingly endless. you don’t even attempt to hold in your sobs—they’re far too deep and frequent for that. if someone were to glance at you through their window, they’d think you were absolutely insane. and maybe you are, you don’t know. maybe you’re insane for thinking that things could’ve ever been any different. maybe you were just imagining everything that seemed like confirmation that he loved you back. maybe it was all a delusion because you wanted it so fucking badly. and maybe that’s your fault.

but did he really have to crush you like this? he knew you were in in love with him. he knew you were waiting for him. he knew what he meant to you. why couldn’t he have just been honest instead of stringing you along? to ask for him to return your feelings would’ve been too much, you've always understood that to be the case; but even to the bitter end, he’ll call you crazy before he tells you the truth.

you try to keep yourself focused, but everything’s a blur with your eyes bleary with a film of tears. you have half a mind to just pull over and have a meltdown on the side of the road, but before you can do that, you hear your phone ringing. you pick it up in a frenzy, silently hoping that it’s beomgyu with an apology, but the number is unknown. you don’t even have time to feel disappointed before you look up and see that you’re barrelling past a red light. in a panic, you realize that you’re about to crash headfirst into another car. you swerve your steering wheel as hard as you can, seemingly avoiding danger, but the sight of a tree coming closer and closer into your vision paralyzes you with fear. you try to brake, but you’re going too quickly for it to be of any use.

the collision is bone-shattering in the literal sense. you’d think you’d feel adrenaline alone in such a situation, but you can feel pain bursting out of every cell of your body as you still after being thrown back and forth in your seat. every organ, every bone, feels like it’s just been crushed, and not for the first time today, you’re struggling to breathe.

as you slip out of consciousness, one immovable thought resounds in your head: i wish i'd never met him.

the sound of your alarm ringing pulls you out of the darkness. your eyes shoot open and you sit straight up in pure shock. while you pant—just trying to catch your breath—you grab your chest, clutching at your shirt as you feel your heart drumming erratically. did you survive? you scramble out of your bed and look in the mirror. there’s nothing on your face. no fresh wounds, bruises, no scars from what just happened. that can’t be right. you know you were torn up from the collision, and there’s no earthly way you came out of it unscathed. was it a dream? it can’t be; you can still feel the phantom of pain on every inch of you, even when there’s no indication of any material harm. you remember every second you spent before and after wrapping yourself around that tree. does that mean you’re dead? are you in the afterlife?

that doesn’t seem right, either. you don’t know much about what the afterlife is supposed to be like, if there’s even one at all, but this feels too real and familiar. you reach for your phone, with its alarm still blaring, and as you hit snooze, you notice the date. it’s just a few months before… before everything happened. did you go back in time? is that even possible? you try to reconcile yourself with that fact for a long, long time. so long, in fact, that you don't even realize you're supposed to be heading to work until it's five minutes after you're supposed to be there.

as if on cue, your phone rings with your boss’ contact displayed on the screen.

“hello,” he says as casually as anyone ever can. this just solidifies the idea that your accident must never have happened, because if it had, he certainly wouldn’t be greeting you as if it’s just another day.

“h-hey,” you attempt to reply, and your voice is so choked and thick with emotion, he can hear how badly you’re struggling to speak at all.

“is everything alright?” he asks, concern laced in his tone. that’s enough to make you break, and before you can stop it, you’re outright sobbing into the phone.

“i’m—i just—i don’t think i can come in today.” you fumble for an excuse, but it’s difficult to think straight as you feel your mind breaking down. “i, um, i—”

“hey, it’s okay. you can take the day off, alright? don’t worry about anything, just focus on feeling better.” his words, so comforting in nature, do nothing but make you cry even harder. it feels nice to be cared for like this. if you had the coherence to think so, you’d wonder how baffled he must be at your behavior. luckily, you’re far too gone to care. you think you end up stammering out something similar to a thank you, but you’re not quite sure. either way, the call ends, and you collapse onto your bed. you curl yourself up and tuck your knees to your chest as you grip yourself as tightly as you can. this is real. you’ve gone back. thank god, you’ve gone back.

you cry and cry until no more tears will come out, and while you try to keep yourself awake as the hours pass by, the relief you feel coalesces with the enticing nature of your soft bed, so you can't help but drift off. it’s different from the way you drifted off mere hours ago. it’s a lot warmer and kinder, and you're so, so fucking tired, you don’t even want to fight it anymore.

a knock on your door wakes you from your sleep. it’s a good thing, too, because you were having a nightmare. rejection, devastation, primal fear, mind-numbing pain, then total darkness repeated incessantly in your head for hours on end. you swipe away your tears, but they continue to flow as you practically drag yourself to your door. you’re so disoriented, you don’t even think to check to see who it is before opening it. what a mistake that turns out to be.

“hey! whoa—are you okay?” he asks, and who else could it be besides beomgyu? your heart pounds in your chest, and even more tears stream down your face as you let out a sob. his mouth contorts into a frown. his face, previously so endearing to you, makes you feel absolutely repulsed. you lost everything for the figure standing before you, and he has the nerve to ask you if you’re okay. a fire is ignited in your stomach, and you feel yourself on the precipice of carnal rage. while you’re trying to suppress that feeling, he speaks again.

“i heard you called in, so i thought i’d check on you. do you have a fever?” he questions, reaching out his hand to check your forehead for abnormal warmth. without even thinking about it, you smack his hand away.

“don’t touch me,” you all but growl, but beomgyu is undeterred.

“what’s the matter? i don’t care if you get me sick; i could use the time off,” he teases with a grin, but your face remains twisted up in pure anger.

“get out,” you mumble between clenched teeth.

“what?” he asks, and it's unclear if that's because he's confused, or because he simply didn't hear you. either way, you don't care.

“get out,” you repeat, louder this time, but not lacking any of the previous anger. your erratic behavior is enough to finally irritate beomgyu.

“fine, whatever. forget i even bothered,” he scoffs as he stalks out of the door. you slam it behind him before falling to the floor. this is your chance. you came back too late to avoid ever meeting him again, but it’s still good enough for you. from now on, you two will live completely separate lives spent being nothing to each other. owing nothing to each other. again, you find yourself sobbing in relief.

when you return to work the next day, the first thing you do is head to your boss’ office. he looks relieved to see you for a moment before he notices the envelope in your hand. with the way his smile drops, you know he immediately knows what it is.

“what’s that?” he asks, though the tension in the air is more than enough confirmation that he has no doubts about what the letter reads.

“my resignation,” you tell him.

“may i ask what this is about?” he probes. no, he can’t, because even if you told him, he’d never believe you.

“i just don’t think this position is right for me,” you deadpan, and the look on his face shows that he doesn’t really buy it.

“you’ve worked so hard for so long, and you want to give up now?” he has a point. your company is on the brink of a major deal with another company, which will result in a financial breakthrough like none other, if successful. as fate would have it, said company is the one in which beomgyu’s future wife works, and the dinner where the two of them met is the celebratory party for such success. you’d laugh at the circumstances if you could. “whatever the issue is, we can work it out. just don’t leave before we do this. we need you, and even if you want to leave after we close the deal, you’ll still be rewarded for everything you’ve done. don’t you want to see that happen?” you do. you really, really do. you’ve given so much of yourself for this opportunity, and you really want to see it work out. you guess, in a way, you already have seen it; but if you leave now, that’ll never happen. this particular project needs you to get off of its feet.

but can you really stand to see beomgyu for a second longer? have his mere presence fuck with your head? is it even worth it? you’re about to declare that it most certainly is not, but you stop yourself. the money will be good for you to start a new life. maybe you’ll move buildings, maybe even to a new city, maybe across the country, who knows? you’ll be more than comfortable with this potential payout, and then you can start a new life somewhere where you know nobody, and nobody knows you.

“i want a new partner, at least,” you counter, and his face morphs into a grimace. he’s undoubtedly confused at your sudden aversion towards beomgyu, but he doesn't mention it to you.

“that’ll be difficult. i need you both for this to work.” you’re about to flatout deny him, but he continues. “if you can just make it through this, i promise that you can go wherever you want to go, and i’ll even give you a bonus for your trouble. deal?” you purse your lips as you mull it over. if you can suffer through being partners with beomgyu, your move will be considerably easier. still, you’re undecided before you have an epiphany: in just a few months, beomgyu will meet his future wife and fall head over heels in love with her. all you have to do is ignore him until then, and he’ll inevitably leave you alone once he meets her. so what if beomgyu’s here? you don’t want to care about him anymore. and once everything’s settled, you’ll pack your life away and start somewhere without the bad memories.

“okay,” you reply, and his face breaks out into a grin.

beomgyu is very visibly ruffled today, which you would immediately notice if you just spared him a glance, but you do no such thing. your lack of attention towards him serves to only rile him up even further. he wants to be stubborn—act out until you apologize to him, but once he realizes you have no intention of doing so, he finally relents and approaches you.

“hey,” he says coolly, still a little annoyed, but prepared to forgive you. you look up at him blankly, and he’s unsettled by just how empty your eyes look, so he nervously asks you, “are you… are you feeling better?” you look at him as if he just spouted the most asinine question of all time, and for the first time ever, he feels small under your gaze. he shifts awkwardly on his feet before you break the silence.

“i’m fine,” you tell him. he waits for you to ask him how he is, but the words never come. in fact, you turn away and bury your nose in your work as if he’s not standing there, waiting dumbly for you to respond as you usually would. well, whatever. you’ll have to talk to him, eventually. especially since you two are working on such a big project.

you don’t really talk to him, though, aside from what’s absolutely necessary. for most of the day, you silently slide papers over to him without even deigning to look at him while you do it. when you do have to speak to him, your words are cold and detached, as if even speaking to him is a chore. it’s like you’re looking past him, almost. like you don’t even really see him, and he’s never felt as unsettled by a gaze in his life.

at lunch, you quietly remain at your desk instead of joining beomgyu like you usually would, and you can't quite bring yourself to eat. you just feel sick by this entire situation, and while you know you need food to survive, you’re sure you’ll vomit if you try to eat anything.

beomgyu, on his part, leaves you alone, though he desperately wants to try to get you to eat with him. he won’t admit it, but he’s actually afraid that you’ll reject him again. he doesn't know why, but the thought of you doing so slashes at his heart. this is a mystery to him. he shouldn’t really care if you reject him or not, since he’s been quietly rejecting you for years, but he can’t help it. still, as he watches you space out at your desk, he tries to will himself to bear the brunt of a possible denial before a coworker he recognizes approaches you.

you don’t even notice mingi walking up to you, so you jump in surprise when he greets you. you’re pretty familiar with him, but you’re not particularly close, so you’re a bit surprised by his arrival.

“can i sit with you?” he asks, grinning as he asks it. you nod in response, and he grins even wider before he pulls up a chair and seats himself in front of you.

“are you going to eat?” he questions, and you shake your head.

“not hungry,” you reply. he frowns.

“you still need to eat. you need energy, especially since you’re working so hard.” you’re actually a little sheepish because of his words. so he’s noticed how hard you’ve been working? it feels nice to be appreciated. is he worried about you?

“i’ll eat later,” you lie. he seems a bit reluctant, but he eventually nods.

“make sure you eat, okay? i’ll—i’ll text you and make sure you have. is that alright?” you’re stunned for a few seconds before agreeing, and he ends up sliding you his phone so you can put your number in it.

beomgyu watches it all from his desk, and he feels a sense of loss. is it because you’re directing your attention elsewhere? that has to be it, right? it can't be any deeper than that, but somewhere nearly unreachable inside of him, he feels an unfamiliar sensation scratching at his heart, begging him to acknowledge it. but he shakes away the thought. you’re acting really weird, but that’s okay. you love him, and you’ll get back to normal really soon.

that’s what he tells himself, but you remain as cold as ever throughout the rest of the week. you don’t look at him with those adoring eyes, and you don’t even crack a smile at his attempted jokes. he feels like he's going insane, as if he's on the brink of understanding something really important, but he can't quite make it there.

it all comes to a head when beomgyu shows up late back from grabbing lunch. he's done this a million times before, and he's always been greeted by your insistence that his tardiness isn't a big deal. in spite of the tension between you two, he still assumes that you'll be as forgiving as ever.

“hey, sorry i'm late. i got caught up with eating and didn't realize how late it was getting,” he says casually. he searches your face for any traces of leniency, for the indulgence you used to give him, but there is none. only anger, and maybe even something like regret, though he can't quite understand the latter.

“don't be late again. we don't have time for this,” you say coldly before sticking your nose back into your computer, effectively ignoring anything else beomgyu could say to placate you.

you two work late into the night. beomgyu gets so caught up in his work, too afraid to draw your ire again, but when he realizes he hasn't heard any noise coming from you in a while, he peers over to see you staring blankly at the wall. your face seems expressionless, but your eyes are what horrifies him. dead, empty, hopeless. “a-are you okay?”

the sound of his voice does nothing to break you out of your trance, however. in fact, it seems to have triggered something in you, decimated a dam that was already leaking. your eyes still look blank as tears begin to leak out of your eyes. they fall slowly at first, then incessantly. it's hard to reconcile the steady stream with the way your face remains completely devoid of emotion.

tentatively, he places a hand on your shoulder. suddenly, you're jolted awake, eyes now looking as composed and indifferent as ever.

“are you okay? w-what's wrong?” he asks anxiously,

you hurriedly wipe away your tears before you say, “nothing. just thinking about something.” you redirect your attention to your work, just trying to fully shake the way you were just locked into the memory of you dying alone.

“what could you possibly be thinking about to make you look like that?” he asks concernedly, his voice unintentionally rising in frustration. your eyes harden before you turn to him.

“none of your business,” you say firmly. before he can say anything, you're packing up your things. “i'm going to call it a night and go home.”

“wait! talk to me! what's been bothering you so much lately? you've been weird for a while now, so just tell me what's going on with you. i'm here. i'm listening,” he says as gently as he can.

“you're here? you're listening?” you sneer. “i'm so honored that you finally give a fuck about how i'm feeling,” you say sarcastically. he frowns at your words.

“what are you talking about? i'm always here for you,” he says, and he looks so genuine, it makes you even angrier. he sincerely thinks he's telling the truth. so fucking clueless and selfish.

“are you? do you think offering up your ear once in a blue moon makes you an altruistic angel or something?” you know he can't understand that you're throwing his own words back in his face, because he can't even remember saying them, but you don't care. it just feels too damn vindicating to stop yourself. “beomgyu, you're only as available to me as is convenient to you. you'd never put yourself out of your way to comfort me. meanwhile, i've always been ‘here’ and ‘listening’ at your will. i don't need your pity, and i certainly don't want it.” he's stunned into silence. you're absolutely correct, he realizes with a sinking feeling. before he can formulate the words to defend himself, you pack up your things and leave the office.

in the following weeks, you realize that mingi is… nice. really, really nice. you’re not used to prospective romantic partners actually seeming to like you, so the feeling is foreign, but not unwelcome. do you have feelings for him outside of appreciation? well, not really. in the back of your mind, you honestly doubt that you’re even capable of having feelings for other people anymore, but you try not to think about it too much. if you seriously search for an answer, you fear you won’t like what you find.

mingi is diligent, though, and you like that about him. now that you’ve made it clear that you’re not involved with beomgyu (and never want to be), he’s pulling out all the stops to charm you. lunches you would previously spend with beomgyu are now spent laughing with mingi. in the same way, downtime at work, which would normally entail catching up with beomgyu and maybe helping with a few of his assignments, are now reserved for chats with mingi. as beomgyu watches you two giggle with your heads together, he wonders what you two could possibly be talking about to ever be that funny. his jaw ticks in irritation at the scene. most notably, though, is the fact that instead of spending your off days with him, you flatout reject him with no explanation. not even with a perfunctory “sorry”. he doesn't have to wonder what you’ve been doing when he hears your coworkers gossiping about how you're always hanging out with mingi.

beomgyu feels you slipping away, and it brings a sense of panic he’s never known before. but why? he shouldn't care about your romantic endeavors. granted, you haven’t had one during the entire time that you've known him, but it’s only natural that he supports you as your best friend. best friend. does that term even apply to him anymore? he wants to insist that it does, but as the weeks turn into months, your disgust for him becomes clearer and clearer. as he sits across from you and mingi at an after-work dinner with your department, he watches as mingi flirtatiously whispers into your ear. when some of your coworkers tease the two of you about it, he realizes with sickening certainty that he doesn't just want to be your best friend, he wants to be the one who sits next to you. he wants to be the one your coworkers joke about being your boyfriend, and he wants them to be right about it. the time you two have spent apart has shown him that he can't imagine anyone else occupying the space beside you. with an overwhelming sense of clarity, beomgyu realizes that this feeling, so deep and all-consuming, is love.

how could he not love you? regardless of everything you've done for him, you're still so perfect to him, for him. he finds himself appreciating things he previously took for granted. you're beautiful, caring, funny, and smart. he loves your smile, your laugh, your company. he loves the way you look when you're focused, the way you look so innocent when you sleep. you're the first person he wants to tell any time something happens, good or bad. you're the face he wants to wake up to in the morning. you're the only person he trusts to be his partner for the rest of his life. and now, it's clear that he can't just let you go without a fight.

as everyone begins to leave the restaurant one by one, he follows you out into the parking lot, determined to make his feelings known. even if you don't reciprocate them anymore, he's willing to put in the effort to make you love him again. and even if you don't… even if you can't… the desire to simply be next to you supersedes the need to be loved back.

you don't realize that beomgyu is trailing after you until you get to your car. he calls out your name as you're about to pull the door handle. with a sigh, you turn around.

“what is it?” you ask flatly.

“are you serious about mingi?” he asks firmly, but he already knows that you are not. the way you look at mingi is laughable compared to the way you looked at beomgyu before your sudden change in behavior.

“yep,” you say.

“no, you're not. i can tell,” he argues with conviction.

“oh, and you know me so fucking well, huh?” you snark.

“i do,” he tells you, stepping closer. “i know you, and i know you don't really like him. not really.” damn. he caught you.

“just because i don’t like him now, doesn't mean i can’t like him later,” you insist.

“so what? you’re just going to string him along while hoping you’ll like him someday? are you just going to spend the rest of your life never really caring about anyone? you can't live like that.” his words leave no room for argument, but you’ll be damned before you don't at least try.

“you’re right, i shouldn’t lead him on, but what’s it matter to you? even if it doesn't work out with him, maybe i’ll meet somebody who i can tolerate, and who can tolerate me. i don’t think i need anything more than that.” beomgyu flinches at your bizarre words, but he's already reconciled with the idea that even if you don't want him anymore, he'll still take whatever you want to give him with a smile on his face.

“then what about me? i… i can be that person.” he's so nervous, you can tell that it took all of his courage to say that. but who cares?

“you can’t,” you argue.

“why not?”

“that would mean i’d have to be able to tolerate you, and i don’t want to do that.” not anymore.

“why are you acting like this? you’re acting like i’m so fucking horrible, but you used to lo—” he stops himself, but you both know he was going to bring up the love you had for him. “i just want to know what changed.”

“i did. i changed.”

“but why? i mean, i didn’t realize it before, and i know i wasn’t always the best, but i’ve always had feelings for y—”

“don’t even bother finishing that sentence. you don't like me at all,” you sneer, “you just don’t like seeing me move on.” this makes him pause, and even you don’t have the heart to pretend like you can’t see the hurt in his eyes.

“why can’t you ever just believe me?” he asks quietly. “i’m telling you i love you, but you don’t even care. i’m saying that it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way, but you’re acting like… like i'm disgusting to you.” he looks like he's about to cry, and it makes you all the more frustrated.

“you don’t understand,” you reply in between clenched teeth.

“then help me understand. i just want to know why. i just want to know how to fix it. how can i bring you back?”

“you can't. look, i’m—” and you’re about to apologize, but you just can’t make yourself do it. “you’ll get it really, really soon. you won’t even remember feeling this way, i can promise you that, and you’ll forget all about me.”

“what are you talking about?” he says exasperatedly. beomgyu may not have always been the best of friends towards you, but he can recognize when you’re holding yourself back. “what aren't you telling me?” you purse your lips in response.

“nothing. there's no point in saying anything, because you wouldn't understand even if you tried. you wouldn't remember—fuck, never mind. just let it go, beomgyu. i have.” but he can't just let it go. this whole fucking thing as an enigma to him. but your words are… odd. what do you mean he wouldn't remember? there's nothing to remember, no matter how much he tries. before he can respond, you get into your car and drive away.

“c’mon, you know i don’t see you like that,” beomgyu tells you, forcing an awkward laugh. your expression immediately crumbles, and he begins to shift uncomfortably when he realizes that he must’ve said the wrong thing. your silence is deafening, ringing in his ears, but he still tries to maintain a smile. maybe you’ll lighten up. maybe you’ll go back to the way you were before. maybe you’ll even crack at smile at this ridiculous situation when you realize that he’s right in his assumption that you’re just being emotional. your feelings for him can only go so deep, right? you can go back to being friends after this, just the way he likes it.

his smile is wiped clean off of his face when your eyes redden and well up in pure, unadulterated hurt. hurt he’s never seen before. he fumbles for the right words, but before he can find them, you break the suffocating silence.

“you knew how i felt about you this whole fucking time, you were just too much of a coward to be honest with me. if… if you had just told me, i would’ve understood. i-i would've—you didn't have to do it this way.” any delusions beomgyu has that you’ll just let this go are promptly flushed away at your biting tone. jesus christ. you’re right, and he knows it. he flounders for a response, but nothing he can possibly say could really be enough.

he spends the duration of the argument mainly trying to defend himself. honestly? he doesn't want to remember everything you two say, but he knows he's being nasty in an effort to keep himself from reconciling with the fact that he is, indeed, a coward. he knows he’s never been the greatest friend to you, though he’s always justified it by recalling the times where he did do thoughtful things for you. when you tell him that your resentment isn’t about the fact that he doesn't feel the same way, but because of the fact that he won’t own up to his actions, he feels a stab to his pride. before he can stop himself, he lashes out.

“i never want to see you again,” you choke out between sobs, and he feels a piercing pain shoot through his body, all the way down to his bones. you don’t mean that. there’s no way you mean that. you care about him. you love him, and even if he doesn't feel quite the same way, he loves you, too. but one look at your resolute face is enough to tell him that you mean it. he wills himself to say something—anything—but you rush out of the door before he can quite muster up the courage to speak.

he stands in a stunned silence for longer than he could ever rightfully justify, but a call from an unfamiliar number eventually pulls him out of his daze. usually, he’d reject it and chalk it up to spam, but something tells him that he should—needs to—answer it. with shaky hands, he accepts the call.

“h-hello?”

the response mostly sounds rather clinical in nature, really. there’s a perfunctory greeting before the monotone voice detachedly states that there’s been an accident, and he will need to come to the coroner’s office to accurately identify the corpse, which had been declared deceased at the scene. as it turns out, he was your first emergency contact.

“we are deeply, deeply sorry.” the final words are the only ones that seem to hold any hint of an emotion in them, but beomgyu is too preoccupied to hear it. in a daze, he gets in his car and makes his way to the coroner’s office. hoping, praying, needing for this to be a bad dream. as he comes to find out, it is not.

beomgyu’s head whips up in horror, and he’s panting like mad in between whimpers. tears incessantly pour out of his eyes, wetting his flushed cheeks. was it all a dream? there’s no way; it was too real to be a dream. he was there—he lived it. no, no, no…

“beomgyu?” a voice says, somewhat breaking him out of his panic. his bleary eyes snap up to the doorway to see you standing there, your eyebrows knit with concern and confusion. you two have been working late again, awkwardly alone together once more after his confession. you saw that he had fallen asleep, but he looked so tired, you couldn't bring yourself to wake him up. “are… are you okay?” he's absolutely frozen as you tentatively approach him, pausing a bit uncertainly before approaching him to get a closer look. he grabs you and tugs you towards him, wrapping his arms around you in an almost bruising grip. he nuzzles his wet face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your familiar scent in between shudders.

“beomgyu, are you sick? did you have a bad dream?” you ask. his heart would flutter at your concern, concern you haven’t shown him for so long, in any other context; but as it is, he’s far too distraught to appreciate it.

“i… i remember,” he croaks, trying to get even closer to you, as if doing so is the only way to keep you safe. you’d like to break out of his embrace, but he’s so distraught while you’re so off-guard, you don’t do it just yet.

“remember what? something about the project? we can—”

“no. i’m—i remember… i remember losing you.” he can’t quite bring himself to be any clearer, but you seem to understand him, anyway. you stiffen in his arms before prying him off of you. he fumbles for you, just to touch you again, but you push him away. you exert very little force, but it’s firm and unrelenting.

“oh,” you reply, looking a little lost, but mostly just cold. he's basically wailing now, but he tries his best to answer.

“i’m so, so fucking sorry. i didn’t—”

“what, you didn’t mean to? you’re sorry? maybe so, but does it matter?” you cut in, almost snarling. now that he remembers, all of the feelings, all of the resentment you’ve kept bottled up come tumbling out of your mouth. “what's the point in telling me this now, after everything? you’re not sorry, beomgyu. you only care because i’m—because i was gone. i don’t want to hear about your regrets; they’re worthless to me.” he recoils as if you just punched him. his eyes turn even redder than they were before, too, and he’s silent at your words.

he wants to tell you that you’re wrong, because he really is sorry, but can he truthfully say that he’d realize his feelings if you didn’t… go? he can’t. for all he knows, he’d have rejected you forever. he's so ashamed, he'd rather die than feel this way. even so, he wants to attempt to explain himself; you deserve that much. before he can reply, however, you rise and stalk towards the doorway. it’s reminiscent of the way you left when everything happened, and he desperately tries to follow you, grabbing your arm before you can make it out the door.

“don’t touch me. don’t you ever touch me,” you seethe, ripping yourself out of his grip as if the mere feeling of his hands on you burns through your skin, and he staggers backwards. he keeps his arm somewhat outstretched, though. just in case you change your mind.

“don’t leave like this. i-i don’t want you to get hurt.” not again.

“what’s it matter to you?” you sneer. “you didn’t care before, so i won’t waste my life on you ever again.” his eyes widen in terror, and tears fall even more profusely than they already were. you begin to leave, but to your regret—and to his anguish, the angriest part of you forces you to turn around and face him again.

“do you want to know what my last thought was?” you ask, face mostly blank besides the slight traces of disdain in your eyes, and he’s too terrified to move or even speak at all. he knows whatever you say will be something that breaks him, so he tries to shrink himself to be as small as possible; subconsciously praying that doing so will make him disappear in the face of your anger. still, your eyes remain locked on his face—narrowing in on him regardless of his efforts. “it was of you, actually. i was wishing i’d never met you.” he visibly flinches as he gasps sharply, feeling like you just knocked the air out of his lungs. he feels like he can’t breathe. it would have felt better if you had just ripped his heart out of his chest, because as it is, it’s aching so badly, he wishes you had.

his lips tremble, and he looks like he’s just heard the worst news of his life. and he has. you hate him that much? you regret all of the time you had together to the point of wishing it had never happened? he’s never, ever regretted a moment he’s spent with you, but he guesses your company has always been better than his. how could it not be? you’ve always given him more than he could ever reasonably ask for, and even if you hadn’t, you’re still a much better person than he is. better to the extent of making him realize just how unworthy he is.

he lets you leave, but his anxiety makes him frantically pace about the room. he tugs at his hair, willing himself to calm down, but he just can’t. after a few minutes, he texts you and asks if you made it home. to his relief, it says that you’ve read the message, so he knows you must be okay. still, you don’t respond.

the deal is tied up exceptionally smoothly; you’ve done it before, after all, so that comes as no surprise. on the night of the celebratory dinner, you take mingi as your date. you’ve already told him that you don’t see things panning out, but he actually takes it really well. maybe telling him that you’re planning on moving helped smooth things over. still, he insists that you accompany him to the dinner, just as friends. you oblige.

it’s mostly the same as you remember. you spend the night mixing with your coworkers for the last time, and it’s bittersweet. they don’t know that this will be the last time you see them, as your two weeks before resignation have already passed in secret, and you’ll spend the next few weeks just packing and finding a new place to stay far, far away from here. it’s freeing, in a way.

at some point, your manager announces that he’ll be making a toast, and the room quiets as everyone’s attention is placed on him.

“firstly, i’d like to celebrate the success of this collaboration. everyone has worked hard to make everything come to fruition. secondly, i’d like to recognize two of the people who made this possible.” he specially thanks you and beomgyu, which is normal, but the unexpected happens when he voices his regret that you’ll be resigning.

your coworkers look at you in shock, but one person in particular is especially stunned. beomgyu. your manager probably thanks employees of the other company, too, but he doesn’t hear it. other voices, other people, are drowned out by the buzzing in his ears. you’re leaving, and it's all because of him.

he tries to drown his feelings in alcohol, stomach burning with every round, but the regret never seems to numb. the room seems to be spinning, and he looks visibly ill. eventually, a familiar figure takes a seat next to him. ah. his previous fiancée.

“hey,” she says, somewhat coyly. he doesn't respond. “wow, are you okay? you look a little green. how are you getting home?” again, he doesn't respond. she actually appears to be embarrassed, but she tries one more time.

“i actually—i came over here because you're really… cute. if you don't have a way home, i can take you. i won't try anything on you, but i can't just let you go home alone. and maybe, you know, when you're sober, we can—”

“beat it,” he snaps. he knows it’s not her fault, and that she hasn’t done anything, but he still can’t help his resentment, even when it should all be directed towards himself. but his recognition of his unfairness isn’t enough for him to care. she blinks in surprise and embarrassment, rising from her seat in defeat.

beomgyu continues to drink until he’s on the verge of passing out, putting his face in his hands. he draws attention from everyone, but he doesn’t have the mind to care. people try to approach him, but he flatly rejects everyone who attempts to offer their help in order to ensure that he gets home safely.

“should you… should you take him home?” mingi asks. it’s obvious who he’s referring to.

“it’s not my problem,” you reply, a bit more curtly than you intended.

“you’re right, it’s not. but you’re the only one he’ll listen to, and i think you know that.” mingi argues. you sigh. he’s right. as much as you want to blame beomgyu for everything, you’ve come to realize that after the conversation—more like confrontation—you two had, you’re not angry anymore. it was hard to see in the moment, but you’ve begun to question your merciless stance towards him. isn’t it partially your fault that things turned out the way they did? he didn't make you check your phone that day, so isn’t it unfair to completely blame him for everything?

with this in mind, you approach him. he initially bats you away, assuming you’re just another one of his coworkers, but your voice pulls him out of his drunken stupor.

“c’mon. i’ll take you home.” his head whips up in surprise, and he almost thinks you’re joking, but your face is completely serious.

“o-okay,” he replies, sounding extremely docile. you don’t respond, but you begin to walk ahead of him as you head to the exit. he’s having a hard time even following you as he clumsily staggers through the crowd, following you like a lost puppy. hesitantly, he reaches out for your hand, though the fear of you telling him not to touch you remains. you turn back to see his fingers hesitantly outstretched to your hand, and with a look of resignation, you let him grab it as you lead him out.

the ride to his home is a silent one. beomgyu rests his head upon the cold window as he stares at the scenery outside. he doesn’t really take anything in, far too dazed to appreciate the view, but he looks, anyway.

when you enter his apartment, begrudgingly letting him lean on you for support, you take him to his bedroom. he plops down onto his bed in an unnaturally clumsy manner.

“th-thanks for taking me home,” he says meekly.

“mm,” you reply, no inflection of emotion in your tone, getting ready to leave and head to your apartment.

“w-wait! can you… can you stay here tonight?” you look at him doubtfully, but before you can resolutely deny him, he begins to retch. with widened eyes, you pull him up and drag him to his bathroom. he hunches over the toilet and lets everything go. he’s trembling after he’s finished, and you clean him up as best as you can. he melts into your touch as you gently wipe his face. you’re not soothing him with your words like you would’ve a few months ago, but your care, no matter how unwilling you seem to give it, is something he revels in. he brushes his teeth, but he keeps his eyes on your pensive reflection in the mirror. after he's finished, you speak.

“i’ll stay,” you tell him.

“w-what?” he questions, eyes watery.

“i’ll stay for tonight. i’ll take the couch. i just don’t want to leave you when you’re feeling like this. it’s dangerous.”

“n-no! you can stay in the guest room.”

“i need to be able to hear you if something happens,” you argue.

“th-then i’ll sleep on the couch. i don’t want you to—”

“beomgyu, you need to properly rest. if you don’t sleep in your room, i’ll leave.” his face crumbles before he acquiesces with a strained nod.

“good,” you say with a ghost of a smile at his blind obedience, but he's too drunk to notice it. if he had, he would’ve clung to it like a man drowning.

“thank you,” he solemnly whispers.

“goodnight, beomgyu.”

“goodnight,” he says, and you rifle through his drawer for some clothes before heading to his living room and changing. you pull out spare blankets from his linen closet before sliding onto his couch.

you sleep rather peacefully, but beomgyu has no such luck. instead, he's pulled into a dream—one he comes to realize is a memory.

when beomgyu arrives at the coroner’s office, there is a moment, albeit brief, that he sickly hopes that it’s literally anyone else in the world, but when he sees you—body mangled nearly beyond recognition—he realizes that there is no such mercy. apparently, you didn't even die on impact, but by the time somebody reached you, you were already gone. he doesn't want to imagine how you must've felt, being alone in your last moments, but he feels like he should. against the warnings of the coroner and surrounding police officers, he demands for your face to be uncovered. he can surely identify you based on frame and clothing alone, but for reasons he doesn’t dare to dwell on, he feels like he just has to see. he just has to be sure. he just has to know what he did to you.

and he does come to know it. to his eternal regret, he begins to know it at that moment, and consequently, every moment after. as it turns out, they suspect that you were looking at your phone before you swerved off of the road. he doesn’t know how, but he’s instinctively sure that it’s because you were waiting on his call. one resounding thought thrums incessantly in his head: it’s all his fault, all his fault, all his fault.

your face is bloody, barely even showing any of the underlying skin, and marred from shattered glass. he swallows thickly as he reaches out to touch you, running his hands over the gashes on your face as softly as he can as to avoid hurting you, and he can’t help but wonder if it’s at all possible for him to tend to your wounds. he would go over single one, softly patching you up back to normal; but you're already cold to the touch, and though you definitely can’t feel anything, his mind imagines how much it must hurt to have him caress the gaping wounds on your face. he snatches back his hand, as if his touch is poison to you.

“s-sorry, i’m really sorry!” he panickedly exclaims. “i-i won’t—i didn’t mean to hurt you.” he’s unsure if he means that in the current physical or the previous emotional sense, but does that really matter? he already has. besides, you can’t feel anything anymore. all of your muscles are relaxed, leaving you devoid of any expression as your eyes hollowly stare up at the ceiling. for a moment, he wishes the hurt he saw in them a mere hour ago was still there. anything would be better than the current blankness of your features.

the blankness remains, however, even after all of the makeup and superficial repairs done to make you look like you’re only peacefully asleep. to him, you just look dead, no matter how badly he wishes the former were the case. as much as he wants to speak at your funeral, he does not. he doesn't deserve the dignity to speak, much less to properly mourn you. not after what he said to you. not when everything that's happened is all his fault.

the breakup with his girlfriend—or fiancée—is more bothersome than he can handle. in between her pleas and attempts to reason, all he can do is coolly recite the constant refrain: “i’m sorry, i just don’t want to be with you.” she tells him he’s just grieving, that he’ll get over it with time, and she wants to support him while he does it; but he montonously repeats his words as if they're the only ones he knows. in her anger and desperation, she tells him he’s making a mistake, and that he’s just feeling guilty because of your unrequited love, which ultimately proves itself to be the categorically worst thing to say. he finally explodes, telling her that she was the mistake, that he doesn't know what he ever saw in her that even closely compares to you, and he'd take every moment with her back if he could. she's the biggest regret of his life, which previously felt like it had only just begun, but now feels like it stretches far beyond what he can tolerate.

in the days, weeks, months that follow, he struggles to understand how something so unjust could occur. it doesn't make sense. really, it just doesn't make sense. eventually, even his initially patient friends grow weary of his neurotic harping upon how unfair it is, how sudden and wrong it all is. he should be punished. you shouldn’t have had to be the one to suffer, but you were. what kind of justice is that? what kind of universe allows something so cruel to happen right under its nose?

when everyone finally tells him that it’s time to move on and let go, he resorts to speaking to the only person who can’t argue back. you. he visits you every day, bringing you gifts on christmas and your birthday, and even just when he sees something he think you'd like. in a way, they’re almost like sacrifices to you to atone for what he did. his contrition. he spends many of his visits by raving like a man gone mad at a stone slab. he likes to think that you’re agreeing with him, that you see the unfairness for what it is. he’s realized that he loves you, has always loved you, but he was too self-absorbed to notice. as hypocritical as it is, he’s only noticed after you… left, and he’s more disgusted by himself than he ever thought possible. still, he thinks you deserve to know. you deserve for him to be brave and tell the truth, but who cares? what’s the use of only recognizing it after everything he’s done?

he apologizes to you while crying about how much he misses you. he tries to tell you about other things, too. about the things he thinks you would’ve liked to hear. about current events he decides you’d find funny or interesting, about life updates on your friends that you’d want to know, about how a new album has been released by an artist you really liked, and that he can't quite bring himself to listen to it yet. he’ll definitely listen, though, someday. he’ll give you his opinions after describing each track in great detail, once he’s able to bear it, that is. you always look(ed) forward to their releases, so it’s the least he can do to repay his debt to you.

but if you owe someone a debt as deep as their life, how can you repay that debt when they’re no longer here to collect it? if he really thinks about it, there are a lot of things he owes you. he owes you the years you spent caring about him when he couldn’t be bothered to reciprocate a fraction of the same courtesy. he owes you every thoughtful action, every encouraging word you wasted on him. he owes you the time you dedicated to make sure he always felt seen, felt understood, felt loved. yes, he owes you a lot of things—too many to properly account for, actually. and now, he even owes you your life. his debt is so heavy, he crumbles under it every day, squirming pathetically beneath the crushing weight of it all like an insect. the worst part is: he owes you more than you ever asked him for. all you wanted in return was honesty, but it appears that even that was too much to ask from him.

he wishes you were here to punish him, to scorn him for being such a fucking bastard. yell at him, hit him, kill him. anything would be fine—he’d tolerate it all—just as long as you were still here. he’d be perfectly content with your hatred, he’d revel in it, even; but he supposes that he doesn’t even deserve that much. as it is, your silence is the most punishment he can receive, but that doesn't feel like it's even close to enough. he finds himself praying for mercy, for some bizarre, cosmic event to put him out of his misery once and for all. he indulges in the idea that if he plays his cards right, if he begs and pleads enough, he’ll find you again. such a notion is initially enough to placate him, but it is to his horror when he realizes that he’s more afraid of that than anything else. what if he finds you, and you tell him, “i never want to see you again,” just like before? such a terrifying outcome is enough to keep him from snuffing out his own light with his own two hands for good. he’d rather live as if he were dead than hear those words again.

so he does. he lives like that for years, decades, until death mercifully takes him. he lives quietly and utterly alone. no wife, no children, and hardly any friends. if your life was robbed from you by his actions, then it’s only right that he lives as if his own were robbed from him, too. it’s the least he can do to atone for what he’s done. what keeps him up at night, though, is the possibility that it’s just not enough. if you do meet him again, what will you say? will you still tell him that you don't want to see him? that the lifetime he spent regretting everything he's ever done pales in comparison to the price you paid for caring about him? as the darkness overcomes him, however, he realizes that you deigning to say anything at all to him is better than your unbearable silence. his final thought before he's swallowed whole is: please, just let me see you one more time.

beomgyu awakens in a cold sweat, panting heavily as he struggles to understand where he is. is he still alive? that can’t be right—he clearly felt himself slipping away. but what if he can’t die? what if that’s his punishment? the thought alone is enough to elicit a guttural, “no, no, no!” out of him as he realizes that his nightmare is not yet over, and may very well never be. tears pour down his face as he wails like a child.

“beomgyu?” you say as you walk through the doorway, looking somewhat sleepy and disheveled in clothes he subconsciously registers as his own. when he looks at you, he's relieved, but the regret he feels is what overwhelms him.

“oh, god. i'm—it's all my fault.”

“what?” you ask, still a bit disoriented from just waking up, seeing as how it's still the middle of the night.

“it's all my fault. it's all my fucking fault. i did that to you.” suddenly, you realize what he’s saying, and your heart clenches at his words.

“beomgyu, no. i was distracted. i didn’t see—”

“you were distracted because of me. you thought i was calling you, i just know it. you were there because of me. because i’m a fucking coward who couldn't just tell you the truth.” you don’t know what to say. did he really blame himself for everything? even after all of this time? before you can answer, he speaks again.

“i saw—you just looked so small. i've never—i didn't even think anyone could bleed that much. you were so cold, a-and your face was—”

“hey, hey, hey, stop it,” you say firmly, but gently, “you're not—”

“they said you died at the scene, all… all alone. and i know i was the one who did that. if i had just listened to you, if i had just been honest with you, you would've been alright. but i called you crazy. i said you were being stupid. w-why did i say that? what did i do it for?”

“look at me,” you say firmly, which makes his unfocused eyes zero in on you. “listen, listen to me. it's not your fault, okay? i used to feel like it was, but now i understand that you were scared. i know you couldn't control how you felt about her, and you were right about you not owing me your feelings. you could've been honest, but that doesn't mean you killed me.”

“no, i did it. i did it. i did that to you. if i had just—”

“gyu,” you sigh, and his heart can’t help but stutter at the nickname you haven’t called him in months. “i’m telling you it’s not your fault. i used to blame it all on you, and i was wrong for doing that. but you get it now, right? you're supposed to be with her. you love her.”

“no, no, no! i don't. i really don't,” he desperately exclaims, trying to convince you in the only way he knows how.

“maybe not yet,” you concede, “but you will. once you get to know her, you'll want to spend the rest of your life with her. that's how it's supposed to be, just like before.”

“there is no before,” he cuts in pleadingly. “i lived and died alone, just like i deserved. i just—i love you so much, i couldn't stand to let you go.” you frown at his words—they make you actually feel guilty. even so, you guess that it's time to let the purgatory you find yourselves in go. besides, maybe he needs an apology to finally put it all to rest.

“i'm sorry that—” his heart drops to his stomach. please don’t say it. he’s begging you not to say it. not to someone as unworthy and filthy as him.

“don't. please, please, don't apologize to m—”

“—i made you feel that way. even when i hated you, i never wanted you to live like that; but you can't mistake guilt for… something else. maybe this is another chance to get it right. you can be with her guilt-free, and i can live without regrets.”

“no, i-i didn’t break up with her because of guilt! i did it because i realized that if it’s not you, i don’t want it to be anyone else. it can’t be anyone else.”

“you don’t know that,” you sigh. “you think you feel that way, but you’re just sad that things ended how they did.”

“you’re wrong!” he exclaims. “i didn’t realize it—i was too stupid to realize it. and i know it’s disgusting of me, but i only… i only understood it after i lost you. i-i’m sorry i didn’t realize it before, but please don’t tell me how i feel. i spent every day wishing i would just fucking die so i could see you again. i just couldn’t stand living without you. that’s not normal—that’s not how friends feel, no matter how guilty they are. i just wanted to die.” you purse your lips at his words as you feel dread pooling in your stomach. at least when you died, you didn’t suffer for long, but he suffered for the rest of his life. in the same way, you didn’t want him to hurt himself, no matter how angry you were.

beomgyu has begun to hyperventilate, but he doesn’t take his eyes off of you—too afraid that you’ll disappear if he does. he’s probably having a panic attack as tears stream down his face, and he ruthlessly tugs at his hair in pure distress. all he can do is repeat that it's all his fault and how sorry he is, and any lingering resentment you may feel dissipates like smoke at his absolutely shattered state. it seems like he really can't live without you, so are you sure you can abandon him like this? you don't think so. although it may not be right, you still think that it's worth a shot. you don't think he has the capacity to hurt you ever again, and you realize that even after everything, you don't think you can love somebody the way that you love him. so, you're willing to let him try again.

“hey, hey. stop it,” you coax, seating yourself on his bed. but he can’t stop it, he physically can’t. he’s whimpering now, like a wild beast with a mortal wound. you don’t hesitate to take him into your arms, holding him tightly as you shush him. “shh, it’s okay, i’m here. don’t cry. i’m here, and i won’t leave again. i promise. just breathe, in… then out. that’s it, just like that. good job.”

eventually, his breath begins to even out, though his body is still racked with shudders. you’re here. you’re okay. you promised that you won’t leave him, and you always keep your word when it comes to him. he finally feels like he can breathe, and even though he’s in so much pain, he still wishes this moment will never end. he wishes he could stay in your arms forever, never letting you leave his side. always staying where he can reach you.

“better?” you ask, pulling away to get a good look at him, but he shakily grips your sleeve in sheer desperation. he just has to be touching you, somehow. he forces himself to nod.

“good,” you say, eyes soft and lips slightly upturned in relief. he almost loses it again at the sight of your smile, no matter how small. he never thought he’d see it directed towards him again in this life or the next. “do you want to start over?”

“s-start over?” he asks. he doesn't dare to let himself hope that you mean what he thinks you mean.

“start over,” you nod. “we can try again, okay?”

“oh, p-please,” he begs. he’s so pathetic. he doesn’t deserve your mercy, but he supposes he’s too selfish to reject it. you look at him for a long, long time with soft eyes. you’re not angry anymore—he’s suffered more than enough, and you finally believe that he loves you just as much as you love him, and maybe even a little more than that.

“you promise you won't hurt me again?”

“i promise. i swear to god—”

without a second thought, you gently cup his face in your hands, which makes his words catch in his throat. his eyes widen as you lean in while pulling him towards you. when your lips meet, he’s electrified to his bones. he melts into the kiss, whimpering slightly at the feeling of your lips against his. when you break apart, you rest his forehead on his own, closing your eyes as he stares at you before he does the same. he clutches the hand you have on his face and grazes his thumb over it as he lets out a contented sigh. nobody has ever made him feel this way before, and if he could go back to the first day he met you, he’d tie you to him immediately.

“thank you, thank you so much,” he whispers. with a smile, you press your lips against his again. he falls into the feeling just as easily as the first time, and you push him down before continuing to go even deeper. before completely giving in.

you spend the night loving and being loved in a way that you never thought you could. you feel cherished to a degree you previously considered impossible. beomgyu reveres you as if you’re his god, and he shows you as much with how loving and gentle he is. when you’re finished, panting heavily against each other, he holds his hand against your cheek as he stares at you in awe.

“i missed you so much. i love you so much. i promise that nobody will ever love you as much as i do. i promise that nobody will ever treat you as well as i will. just don’t leave me, okay?” and when the time comes, even if you do leave first, he’ll be sure to follow you. he won't let you be alone ever again. but he definitely can’t tell you that, or else you’d yell at him for not caring about his life enough.

“okay,” you tell him with a sleepy smile, and he beams before kissing your forehead and letting you drift off. he stares at your peaceful face, resolving to always give you what you want, no matter what it costs him. even if it kills him, he'll gladly do whatever it takes to ensure that you're happier with him than you could ever be with anyone else. he'll prove to you how much he loves you, and he'll pay back the debt he owes you a million times over. you'll see. he’ll marry you, start a new life with you, and chain himself to you forever; which may sound selfish, but he’ll make up for his willfulness by being everything you could ever want and need. and finally, before he joins you to sleep, he thanks the universe for having mercy on him—for letting him see you again.

notes pt. 2: ... so? LMAOOOOO i hope this was worth the wait bc this work was so hard for me to get through it was making me so sad to write it. anyway, love yew. please don't be mean to me tho like if u don't like it just close your eyes n scroll 🙏

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naoristerling · 6 months ago

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yeahh .. okayy

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naoristerling · 6 months ago

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Doujinshi Vegeta x Bulma

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naoristerling · 6 months ago

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wildfire (cs) | nine.

—spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: assistant professor in bioengineering, incredibly attractive, lonely and divorced; that’s how most people describe san. but despite the events that have happened in his life, san has a lot going for himself. he’s a successful, sought out professor due to his brilliant contributions to science at just an early age of 32. he worked hard to get where he was now; head deep into his research, his publications, building his lab and creating a name for himself. everything was good and smooth sailing— until it wasn’t. because when he meets you, a bioengineering grad student interested in rotating in his lab, he finds himself ready to risk all the blood, sweat and tears he put in throughout the years just to keep you close— his need for you spiraling out of control like a wildfire.

—pairing: asst. professor!choi san x grad student!f. reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, grad school au | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 9.7k

—chapter content/warnings: cussing, mature language/sexually implied content, phone sex / mutual masturbation, lots of kissing and making out per usual lol, these two are off to another conference but together-together, alcohol consumption and intoxication, bar scene, dancing, fingering on the balcony, finger sucking, oral (f. receiving), a sprinkle of spitting, a sprinkle of nipple play, a lazy handjob lol, unprotected sex from behind oop, some dirty talk, some hair pulling, multiple orgasms, reverse cowgorrrrl, implied shower sex, lots of talk and speculation, hohoho the end 🤭

Your friends weren't really surprised when you said you'd be leaving for another conference. They did wonder why it was last minute, but you don't think they dwelled on it much. Not like Jiung, at least. Outside of Jiung, maybe Yunho, too. But luckily, Yunho didn't make it a big deal since you weren't scheduled to TA his class this week [hands-on lab week with his postdoc]. He reassured you by saying it was a good conference to attend, though. That he wasn't giving a talk this year, but he was still thinking about popping in for a second.

You hope not.

You'd be with San and you'd finally get to be away with him, alone. You hoped no one else would be around and try to disrupt that [selfishly]. San had just traveled overseas for another lecture post-NAS conference, leaving you behind to sulk away while you missed his company.

—FLASHBACK

San settles into his empty hotel suite after a long day of being in attendance for a board meeting and conference. He loosens his tie and unclips his cuffs, letting out a hefty sigh when he turns on the shower. He musters the last of his strength to shed off his clothes and step under the piping hot water. He's still feeling a little groggy and gross from being in a timezone that's 5 hours behind from home. Over the years, he's slowly gotten used to traveling this way; flying to the other side of the world for 1-2 days before heading back. It used to wear on his body a ton until he's gotten better about taking care of it and his health. Still, even after these years, it doesn't get any easier.

Especially now that San has you— he just always feels like he's missing something. All he wants is to be with you, occupy his time with you.

When San steps out of the shower and finishes getting ready for bed, he slips under the sheets in nothing but his boxer briefs. He rests against the headboard, flipping through channels while he waits for you to text him back. He flips through some of your photos, some of the nudes you sent that he tucked away in his hidden folder. He feels himself getting worked up, missing you even more; missing your touch, your kisses, the way you feel. You promise you'd stay up and wait for him even though San begged you to sleep, so he wouldn't be surprised if you had fallen asleep.

You couldn't though, not without talking to him.

you: sorry sannie, was cleaning up a bit. can i call you now? 🥺

san: yeah of course baby, as long as you aren't tired.

It's not less than 20 seconds that you end up calling him after that text, settling into your sheets to try and get comfortable.

"Hey sweetheart."

"Hi." You smile to yourself hearing San's voice, though he sounds tired and worn out. "You okay? You sound really tired." He chuckles.

"Ah, do I? I kinda am though. Mentally exhausted from the meeting and conference today."

"I'm sorry, Sannie. You should rest."

"I am, love." He sinks a bit further into the sheets. "I miss you."

"I miss you, too."

"What have you been up to today?"

"I caught up on some assignments and worked on a few things with Belle. How was the board meeting and conference?"

"Cool, but exhausting."

"I bet. Have you gone around the city?"

"A bit, but I don't really plan to do most of it until the second to last day here." You hum on the other line. "Wish you were here with me, baby." His voice is low, husky. Enough for you to bite your lip and sink into your own covers to try and distract yourself from the butterflies in your tummy.

"I wish I was, too. I'm sure it's beautiful there."

"Mmyeah." He feels himself getting incredibly worked up at this point, missing you terribly and wishing he had you all to himself here. Imaging the things he could do with you, to you, is enough to turn him on.

Replaying past events and hearing those pretty little noises you make for him.

God, he wishes he could have you.

"You lying down?" He breaks the silence and asks.

"Mhm."

"Wish I could have you right now, sweetheart." You can hear it in his voice, the small pauses and breaths he takes in between. "All I want."

"I wish you could too, Sannie."

"Baby." He breathes out. "I'm so hard for you." He lets out a small groan just as you dip your fingers beneath the waistband of your shorts and panties.

"Can you come home already?" You whine.

"Soon, love." He whips his cock out and slowly strokes himself, releasing a shaky breath in the process just as he tilts his head back against the headboard— thumb spreading his pre-cum across his tip. "Fuck—Can you touch yourself for me?"

"Yes." You let out, rubbing at your clit in slow circular motions, digit dipping between your folds before gently slipping inside. A small whimper leaves your lips that shoots straight to San's cock, causing him to grip his member a little harder— stroke it a little quicker.

"Feels good, angel? How wet are you?"

"Mhm." You moan. "So wet, babe."

"Good girl. Keep doing that for me, yeah?" You fail to respond, too focused on finger-fucking yourself as you slip in two digits and work at a hungry pace. You too, think about San and how well he takes care of you; how well he fucks you and makes you cum over, and over again. "Wish I could fuck you so good right now." He moans a little louder this time and it has you reeling— hips subtly working with your hand as you come back up to your clit and spread your slickness around. "Hear you make those pretty noises for me and me only."

"Sannie." You breathily whine, rubbing at a faster pace.

"Mhm?" His voice is deep. "You want that, baby?" He lets another moan slip from his lips as he chases after his high, hand working quick on his length. "You like it when I handle you? Do you need that right now?"

"Yes, Sannie. Need it so badly."

"Mm." His hum is close to growl. "Shit." He hisses, breathing becoming irregular just as yours is. The more you listen to San on the other line while rubbing at your core, the more you feel yourself ready to snap. "I'm close. Can you let go for me, hm? When I get back—" He pauses briefly. "I'll make sure to take care of you. Fuck you so good— show you how much I missed you."

"Fuck— San." You cry. "Mm'coming—" You continue to moan and say his name as your orgasm washes over you, trembling at every touch as you milk it out and ride out your high. Hearing the way you unravel has San spiraling, causing him to release shortly afterwards— strings of white painting his stomach and abdomen as he moans deeply; the euphoria crashing down on him instantly. You lie there, eyes shut as the exhaustion kicks in, a small smile on your face when San huffs out a quick 'fuck.' "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, just made a mess." You giggle.

"Too bad I'm not there."

"Don't say things like that or I'll get hard again." You snort, also getting up to clean up and snuggle back into the covers. "Can't wait to get home to you."

"I can't either, babe. Just take it easy, okay? You'll be home soon."

"Soon isn't enough."

—END

He was there for a week before he came back jet-lagged and super tired. He still managed to cater to you despite the things he needed to catch up on, but you honestly felt bad intruding in his space when you're sure he just needed time for himself. With that being said, you didn't see him as much over the following week— allowing him to get back on track before yet another trip and another conference.

You needed him to yourself, and that's all you were asking for.

And you got that; hopefully, with no issues, repercussions or interruptions to come.

"Baby." You turn from the window to face San, his hand giving your thigh a squeeze.

"Hm?" You hum, pulling yourself out of your daze while watching the ocean pass you by.

"You okay?" He smiles a bit, driving with one hand down to the grocery store.

"Mmyeah, sorry. Was just watching the water." He nods, licking his lips as he leans onto the middle console after stopping at a light.

"No worries. Can I just steal a quick kiss?" You giggle, leaning forward to kiss him on the lips. You pull away for a second, only to kiss him again. And again.

And again.

Beep!

"Fucking relax." San says, looking through the rear view mirror. He hits the gas, smirking when he hears you laughing in your seat.

"Woops."

"Gonna get me in trouble."

"Pay attention, Professor Choi." You tease, lacing your hand with his. His hand is soft, his hand is warm. You give it a soft squeeze, thumb caressing the surface.

"Can't help it when my lady's in the front seat." He smiles. "Anyway, got a good list of groceries in mind already?"

"Just a couple of things." He nods.

"What do you wanna do tonight? Take a walk near the beach? Party? Explore?"

"Party?" You snort. "You party?"

"I'm really not that old, for your information." You laugh.

"You know, exploring sounds kinda fun."

"Yeah?" He kisses your knuckles just as he pulls into the parking lot of the plaza, finding a spot near the entrance of the grocery store. "Well, we can explore."

"Stumble into some bars, walk down the lively nightlife streets." He chuckles and slides his hand into yours when the both of you hop out the car and head into the store.

"That does sound fun." He squeezes your hand before grabbing a basket. "So, what did you have in mind?"

"Lots of good snacks." You giggle, leading him towards the snack aisle. "But, I was thinking we could make something for dinner together tomorrow night."

"Yeah, we should. What's on the menu?" You shrug, throwing your favorite chips into his basket, along with your favorite waffle cone snacks.

"Curry, maybe?"

"That sounds really good, baby. Let's do it." You smile up at San before tippy-toeing to give him a kiss on the lips. You continue to roam around the store, throwing in some ingredients into the basket with San, along with some soju. After the two of you have made an entire round around the store and are satisfied, San heads to the cashier to pay. You beg for him to let you cover half and he shakes his head, kissing you on the side of the head for the attempt. You catch his arm flex when he raises the basket onto the belt, causing you to shift your attention to the floor to try and distract yourself. San catches on though, and he chuckles while tapping his card to the reader. You shy behind him, hand loosely in his while he grabs the bags with his other.

In the car, you pull up a few potential spots to visit tonight. You find that most of the fancy restaurants and fun bars are along the same street, which is pretty close to the hotel and beach. You suggest walking down and around, and San agrees— as long as you're comfortable. You look at him and nod, watching as he drives down to the hotel 15 minutes away; chewing at his gum with his hat strapped on backwards. San is in a casual white tee and black pants, while you've got on an oversized graphic tee and cargos. San booked a hotel that's on the opposite end from the venue, more than willing to do a 45 min drive around to get there just to avoid running into familiar faces and colleagues. It wasn't a huge conference, though. Not a lot of people he knew would be showing up. Still— didn't mean others weren't aware of who he was and he couldn't risk that. He just needed to be with you, in private; away from anything that could ruin it or make you uncomfortable.

When you get to the hotel, San checks in with a breeze before taking your hand and leading the way to the room. He's carrying both of your bags— a duffle slung on each of his shoulders. He taps the keycard on his phone against the reader, pulling the handle down to reveal the suite. You've seen pictures but pictures don't do justice to capture just how beautiful it is in person. It's a small suite, perfect for you two. There's a small living room, a kitchen next to it. There's beautiful barn doors separating the room. The room has a Queen's bed, beautiful white curtains that hide the balcony with the ocean view. The bathroom has a his and hers sink, a stand-in shower just like the one San has at home and a tub next to it. San sets your bags down to the side of the room while you set the ingredients and soju in the fridge, snacks laid out on the counter. San lets out a small sigh as he comes to you, tossing his hat onto the counter before wrapping his arms around you from behind and placing a kiss against your head.

"So, baby." He says lowly from behind, giving you the opportunity to relax in his hold. "Wanna get ready and head back out?"

"You sure you aren't tired?" He smiles when you turn to face him and wrap your arms around his neck.

"No. We can do whatever you want." His hands squeeze at your sides. You tippy-toe to peck him on the lips, hands gently tugging on the ends of his hair sitting on the nape of his neck. He kisses you back for awhile, deepening the kiss just enough to have you to two indulging in each other against the kitchen counter. He lets out a soft, content sigh in between, hand coming up your shirt.

"Maybe we should—" Kiss. "Get ready." Kiss.

"We should. But, it's not fair now that you've got me all worked up." He whines a bit, causing you to giggle.

"I'm sorry, Sannie." You kiss him one last time. "We can take care of it later, hm?" You smile, pulling out of his grip to head into the bedroom. He watches you walk off, hips swaying as you make your way to your bag before strutting into the bathroom. He does a little head tilt, still in disbelief at how he's got you right here— with him.

He feels lucky. Genuinely happy.

At some point, you and San are both getting ready in the bathroom— you've dressed yourself in a mini cami dress while San has his all white attire on. You're brushing the mascara wand through your lashes, dabbing some blush to your cheeks, swiping the lip gloss across your lips. San is ruffling his hair next to you, trying to style it to his wants until he's satisfied. You look over and peep the silver dog tag necklace hanging from his neck, tan chest exposed through the deep-cut shirt he's wearing.

"What?" He smiles, slightly confused at the way you're staring at him.

"Just looking at your necklace."

"You sure that's it?"

"I mean I could say other things, but I won't start right now." He laughs.

"Chris gave it to me for my birthday."

"It's nice. Looks good on you."

"You think so?" You nod, setting your makeup bag aside. "Doesn't look nearly as good as this dress does on you." He comes behind you, hand gripping your ass.

"Choi San."

"What?" He chuckles. "I mean it." He presses a kiss to your temple. "Ready to go, pretty?" You nod, turning to face him.

"I am."

"Can I have a kiss before we go?"

"My lip gloss." He shrugs.

"I don't care." He gently grips your jaw and tugs you closer. "C'mere." You kiss him, smiling as you pull away and tug on his shirt.

"Let's go." You gently wipe off the excess gloss from the edge of his lips, being the first to pull away and grab your things.

"Yesma'am." San bites onto his lip, following after you.

And it ultimately leads to one of the best nights you've ever experienced.

San pulls up to a Peruvian restaurant, taking your hand and carefully navigating through the groups of people waiting for a table. He puts his name on the waitlist, telling you it'll be about a 25 minute wait. You respond with a 'no biggie,' leading him up the street to look at the gift shops while waiting. You and San poke around at the shirts, sweaters, magnets and other souvenirs, playfully trying on fun, festive hats and headbands before purchasing a few items for your mom and friends. You move onto the next store, in hopes of killing the last 10 minutes of the wait in there. It's a cute and quaint jewelry shop, one owned by a sweet middle-aged lady who sits on a high stool behind the counter. She greets you and San, her eyes twinkling when she sees you both stroll in happily into her store. You slowly browse along the glass containers, your eyes instantly fall onto a dainty, silver layered butterfly necklace sitting in the far corner.

"I was hoping you'd look at that one." She says. "I think it'd be perfect on you."

"Wouldn't it be?" San comes from behind. "Is it okay if we take a closer look at it?" She nods, pulling it out of the glass case and onto the surface.

"It's so pretty."

"There's only one other shop that sells this necklace. It's simple, but I think it brings out some joy in people. Butterflies are meaningful." She adds.

"They are. My grandma loved butterflies. We'd always take her to the butterfly garden near her home for her birthday."

"It really would be perfect on you." San whispers as he dips closer to the side of your face. He sees the way your eyes light up, causing his heart to soar. He immediately turns to the lady and flashes his dimpled smile, his arm around your waist. "Do you think I can take it off of your hands?"

"Certainly—"

"San." You pout. "You don't have to—"

"I do." Is all he says, sliding his card over to the sweet lady just as she gently takes it off of its display and lays it down. It's not expensive, but not inexpensive; yet, San doesn't care much for it because all that mattered to him was the way your eyes glowed and the way your smile filled the room.

"I'm assuming you'd like to wear it out?" San nods.

"Yeah, she will." She hands him his receipt to sign off on before handing him his card.

"Enjoy." You smile at her as San slips his card back into his wallet and carefully pries the necklace out of the container. When you get to the front of the store, San stops you to help you get the necklace on.

"Baby, let me put this on."

"Thank you, Sannie." Your eyes sparkle at the necklace in his hand, his smile growing by the minute as he comes behind you to slip it on.

"It's perfect." He gently caresses your chin before he's distracted by his phone buzzing. "Also, perfect timing?" He flashes his phone towards you. "Our table's ready." You simply smile up at him, letting him lead you back down to the restaurant. Once he's checked back in, the host brings you to a table in the dim, far corner of the restaurant— away from the entrance, away from the high traffic. It's a small booth, cozy and intimate enough for you and San.

You begin skimming through the menu, chiming in about certain plates you wanna try. You and San decide on a few main courses to share, along with dessert. He's quick to call the waitress over to place the order, also putting in an order of cocktails for you two to indulge in while waiting. San talks to you about future plans and how things have been going on his end [grants, his progress with Jongho on that new building]. He's trying his best to not talk about school and work but there are things he just feels the need to tell you, knowing you'd support him and cheer him on when he needs it the most. But, at some point, the conversation gets interrupted when a call from Jiung comes flashing through your screen.

"Do you wanna get that, sweetheart?" You shake your head and let the call go to voicemail.

"It's okay. I'll tell him I'll call him back later or something."

"You sure?"

"Positive, San." You give him a reassuring smile. "I can always catch up with him." He nods. "You were saying? About Jongho and Namjoon?"

"Right, yeah." He chuckles a bit. "Namjoon's been talking to the dean and he seems to be onboard with giving us some real estate in the new building to start a program. I think they're still discussing, but it sounds like as long as we do yearly symposiums and update him on the progress of how things are going, it should be good."

"That sounds amazing! I mean, I always knew you and Jongho would be able to push it forward." He does a slight head tilt.

"Well, baby. I don't know if it's us or Namjoon." You laugh.

"Namjoon wouldn't be able to make a valid case if you two weren't doing great work."

"True. I think it'll be able to help bridge a lot of future collaborations, especially in different departments. Like Zara's, Applied Physics." You quietly sip on your cocktail and nod, taking a big gulp to [hopefully] swallow down the question you want to ask, the question you're so curious about. San catches on quick, though. He sips on his cocktail and furrows his brows slightly, trying his best to read you from his seat. "What're you thinking about?"

"Huh? Nothing."

"Angel." He laughs a bit. "I told you you could ask me anything, remember?" You sigh and give him a look before caving.

"So, have your friends been trying to hook you up with her?"

"Zara?" You nod. "Yeah. I'm not gonna lie."

"Hm." You hum.

"But, we're just colleagues, love. Nothing else."

"They think you two make a good pair."

"I don't. We're good as colleagues, and quite frankly, I never really saw her in any other way since the beginning." Silence. "What's on your mind, hm?"

"I just tend to overthink, that's all. She's a professor, too. She's the same age as you, on the same kind of path. Has life figured out and is pretty set. Pretty. What if you realize we aren't a good pair and you two actually are?" He shakes his head.

"Babe— baby. I'm gonna have to stop you right there, okay? That's not gonna happen or else I wouldn't have pursued this if I knew I wasn't set on this. If I had any doubts about us or what was going on between us, I wouldn't have continued. I'm not like that. I would never do that to you." He looks at you and you can't help but give him a tiny, toothless smile; feeling reassured from the way he looks at you alone.

Like you've hung up the stars in the sky.

"I trust you." Is all you manage to say.

"Good." He grabs your hand and places a kiss on your knuckles. "I don't want you to worry. Let's enjoy ourselves tonight." You nod.

As dinner progresses, you and San talk endlessly about life, family and stories from the past. You talk about what your friends have been up to, what your mom has been texting you about, new shows and books you've been trying to get into and San always listens so intently. Dinner lasts for about 2.5 hours before you're two cocktails deep and heading out of the restaurant to the bar just further down the street. This time, you lead for the rest of the night. You take San's hand and follow the loud music, the crowd. You fall into the bar, already bouncing to the beat with San close behind you. You order a few shots from the bartender, San giving you a look as he whispers in your ear about how good you look glowing under the dim light, how good you look happy. San takes the shots with you, ending up on the dance floor with you. Everyone else around you seems too intoxicated to care about their surroundings; too intoxicated, too happy enjoying the moment. And surprisingly, San is, too. He holds you close as the song blasts through the bar, gripping your hips as you work your ass against him. He keeps up with your rhythm well as he dances along, playfully turning you to face him so he could praise you in your ear while he squeezes at your ass.

You're not sure this man lacks in anything, and it's crazy to call him yours.

But, he is.

He is, he is.

You and San spend a good hour at the bar before you walk over to the beach and stumble your way back into the hotel from the back entrance. The both of you are still in good spirits despite the exhaustion slowly creeping up, laughing and joking with each other until you've finally made it back inside the room.

"That was fun." He smiles, pulling you flush against him before cupping your cheeks and kissing you on the lips. "Thank you, baby." He thanks you because he's not sure he's felt this alive in a long, long time. Even though he had his good moments with Iseul, he can say their relationship was never that spontaneous. They kept within routine a lot, did the usual things with their friends a lot. Iseul wouldn't dare take him down the street into a random bar to take shots and dance the night away while out of town.

Everything about you was so good, so different, so good to be true. But, you were all his and he was all yours.

He wishes he could stay here with you, in this moment. With no worries about school, work, the outside world. People.

"No, thank you." You smile sweetly at him, but he can't admire it for long when his phone buzzes in his pocket despite it being on do not disturb.

jongho: can i call you real quick? sorry, kinda urgent but i won't take up much of your time.

san: yeah, sure.

"I'm sorry baby, I have to take this." He flashes the screen, showing Jongho's name come up. "Real quick."

"No worries." You chuckle. "I'll clean up around here." He nods, walking off.

"Yo." San picks up the call while he decides to stand outside on the balcony.

"Aye. Where have you been? I sent you some emails but it's been crickets." Jongho asks.

"My bad. I told you I was going to the Baskin Conference."

"Oh, you actually went? I thought you were still thinking about it."

"No. What's up?"

"Are you alone?"

"Why?"

"Okay." Jongho chuckles. "Anyway, I was just wondering where you were at since I haven't seen you and heard from you. I received a 'just in time' email for the new proposal we worked on. Might be good to start getting our approvals together for it so we can get the grant awarded ASAP." San nods, relaxing when he feels you wrap your arms around him from behind. He turns to face you, one arm coming around you while you look up at him; other hand still occupied with holding the phone to his ear. San watches you carefully as you lay random, soft kisses against his jaw and silently giggle— teasing him in the same manner that drives him crazy.

"That's great news, actually! Kinda been bombing out some of the grants I have right now and have yet to renew some of them." Jongho laughs loudly.

"Yeah, same."

"I'll prioritize it and get it done when I get back."

"Sounds good. I've already looped in the others in that email to get it started."

"Thanks."

"Enjoy yourself down there." Pause. "And San?"

"Yeah?"

"Please be careful with her."

"I'll talk to you when I get back." San hangs up the call and slips his phone into his pocket, smirking when he finally gets to hold you close. "And what do you think you're doing, hm?"

"Just wanted your attention." You pout.

"You always have my attention, angel. There's no doubt about that." You bite your lip and tippy-toe to kiss him, pressing yourself flush against his body while you deepen the kiss. You feel him hardening against you, causing you to moan into his mouth. He briefly pulls back, smiling down at you as his hand travels down and beneath your dress— fingers teasing at the edge of your panties. "Think you can keep quiet for me?" Your breathing hitches when his fingers dip beneath the material and start slowly rubbing at your clit. He keeps his eyes on you the entire time, watching the way you let out silent moans even as he finally slips two fingers inside of you.

"Babe—"

"Shh." He shushes you with a smile. "Don't worry about anyone." He says, expertly hiding your figure in front of his, keeping you at an angle behind the decorative pots and plants sitting on the balcony for aesthetics. "Just let me take care of you." He grazes his lips against yours, indulging in the way you quietly whine against him, indulging in the way your slickness covers his digits.

You're dripping.

He picks up the pace as he tries to quietly [and subtly] finger fuck you on the balcony, enjoying the way your head tilts back in pleasure, giving him access to the surface of your neck for small little kisses, love bites that aren't so obvious to the naked eye.

"So close— so good." You moan softly against his lips, trying to keep yourself as quiet as possible on this balcony, threatening to tip over the edge any second now. "I'm gonna—"

"Mm, I don't think so, love." He teases when he feels you clench around his fingers.

"Wanna cum, San. Please." You beg and San smirks. He removes his digits from inside of you, letting out an evil [and fucked up] chuckle. "Sannie." You whine, feeling needy and so incredibly weak at how he stripped you of your orgasm. You needed him, badly. You craved him, badly. "I need to—"

"And you will. Just not now." He teases. "Open for me." He says, slipping his two digits into your mouth to watch you suck on your own juices— tongue swirling around his pretty fingers. "Taste good, baby?" You nod so innocently. "That's my good girl. I'll make the wait worthwhile, hm?" He grips your jaw as he talks lowly near your ear. He begins to trail kisses from your jawline down to your neck, tongue swiping across the surface before nibbling and sucking ever so gently. As much as he'd love to paint your skin with all those marks, he knows he shouldn't.

"San, please." You beg again, hands tangled in the ends of his hair as he continues to kiss your neck in all the right spots. San is pressed up against you, and you can feel his hard, aching cock against your thigh. Your hand comes down to give it a feel, a quick squeeze, before he's letting out a low, breathy moan against your skin.

"Bed. Now." He demands, letting you lead the way to the bedroom;

A trail of clothes following suit.

Shirt gone. Pants gone. Dress gone.

Boxers off to the side. Panties somewhere in the room.

Balcony door still wide the fuck open.

He gets you situated on the edge of the bed, keeping your legs cocked open for him as he dives right in to get a taste of you. He swipes his tongue up, teasing your clit before sucking gently. He continues to lap away at your heat— expertly tonguing your folds in between and teasing your entrance. At some point, he slips in a digit; finger fucking you while he watches you writhe from his angle. You let out his name a few times, your moaning and begging sounding like pure music to his ears.

"Wanna cum for me?" You nod, eager to unravel and snap in his hold. "You've been good, baby. Go ahead and cum for me."

"Fuck— please." He spits on your pussy and continues to suck away at your clit; allowing you to grip his head with slight force as you keep him in his position and grind against his mouth, his tongue. "Oh shit—" You mewl, yelling his name shortly after as you come undone— body twitching as your orgasm hits you like a wave. San continues to latch on until your body settles, releasing himself from in between your thighs to hover over you and plant a trail of gentle kisses up your stomach;

Chest.

Neck.

Until he meets your lips in a deep, heated kiss. His hand comes up to cup your breast, thumb toying with your nipple while you respond to his touch. You lazily stroke him while he continues to kiss you, letting out low groans in between.

"Turn around for me, sweetheart." He whispers against your lips, gently biting down on your bottom lip and pulling back. You do as you're told, flipping onto your tummy as San presses you down against the mattress— ass up and backed up against him. He runs his hand down your back, pressing feathery kisses against the surface before slowly stroking himself and lining up at your entrance. He eases himself in, the both of you letting out loud moans that fill the room; probably echoing out into the balcony. He buries himself to the hilt before working at a slower pace, hands gripping your hips while he adjusts to the feeling of you wrapped tightly around him. He watches his cock slip in and out of you, your slickness coating his length. He hisses at the sight, head tilting back in pure pleasure as he finally begins to pound into you.

"That's my fucking good girl." He presses you down into the mattress, keeping your ass up against him. You continue to moan loudly, San giving your ass a loud smack as he continues to thrust into you roughly. "Tell me— whose pussy is this?"

"Yours."

"Louder, baby. Tell me whose is it."

"Yours!" You cry, San groaning behind you as he gives your ass another smack.

"Fuck, that's right." He groans. "So perfect, angel. You're all mine." He tugs on your hair and pulls you back towards him slightly, giving him leverage to moan praises in your ear as he continues to fuck into you. "Want you to ride me, can you do that for me, sweetheart?" You nod in between your whines, desperate to do anything for your man—

Desperate to feel him in any way, desperate to tip over the edge and come undone.

Suddenly, San pulls himself out and you feel empty. He lays back on the bed, resting against the headboard as he has you climb ontop and face the balcony doors.

"Yeah, baby. Like that." He moans lowly while you instantly start to work him at a steady pace, eager to fill this ache in your core. "Always know how to ride me— made for me." He praises from behind as you swirl your hips around and bounce on his cock like no tomorrow. The new angle works in your favor deliciously; his perfectly thick cock rubbing against your walls and knocking his tip right at that delicate spot that always has you spiraling. You call his name out like a mantra as your hips work faster, sloppier.

You don't think you can hold on any longer.

"Mm— feels too good—San." Your moans are broken, breathing irregular. San knows you're close. "Can I cum?" You whimper, no longer able to hold back. "Wanna cum for you again." You plead cutely.

"Yes you can, love. Look at you, so pretty riding me." He praises you. "I'm getting there, just—fuck— keep doing that." He watches the way your ass bounces on him, relishing in the way your walls tighten around him. "Doing so well."

He'll snap.

"Sannie—" Everything feels like a blur, like white noise, when your orgasm comes crashing down on you in one swift motion. Your moan bounces off the walls as you still in his grip and ride out your orgasm; San fucking up into you to chase his own high shortly afterwards.

"Oh shit—" San's face contorts in pleasure, brows knitting tightly as he shoots his cum into you. "Shit." He repeats in between low groans, his fingers digging into your flesh as he releases every last drop inside of you. Cum damn near dripping out of your pussy.

"Oh my god." You pant, finally able to come to your senses post-orgasm. You give yourself a minute before carefully climbing off, giggling at San's fucked out look. You kiss him sweetly on the lips, continuing a string of tiny repeated kisses before you gain energy to head to the shower. "Gonna wash up if you wanna join me?" San smirks as he watches you head into the shower and turn the water on. He sighs before hopping off the bed and following suit, slipping into the shower right behind you. At first, it starts off sweet; San carefully taking his time with massaging the shampoo and conditioner in your hair and vice versa in between sharing deep, heated kisses.

His hands roam up your body, sweet touches and gentle moves— just to take you again in the shower; your back pressed against the cold wall, his arm hooked under your leg to prop it up while he fucks up into you harshly, roughly.

His name being called over, and over, and over again; just the way he likes it. Making you cum over, and over, and over again; just the way he likes it.

Because you are his, and he is yours.

The next morning comes, and you're awaken by San's soft hand slowly rubbing up your back along with his soft kisses to your bare shoulder. The sun is beaming through the balcony doors, providing extra warmth as San cuddles close to you.

"Wake up." He whispers in your ear, still continuing his motions on your back.

"I'm so tired." You mumble into the pillow, causing San to chuckle.

"Let's get breakfast before the conference."

"Is it really time already?"

"Mhm." He hums in a sing-song tone, now gently massaging your back.

"Can't we just stay like this?"

"You know I'd want that more than anything." He gives you a kiss to the head before dragging his body out of the sheets and into the bathroom. You stretch and fully wake yourself up, grabbing San's button-up from the nearby chair and slipping it on. You continue with your normal morning routine— the only difference this time is having San around, which makes things feel a little more complete. Once you've both gotten yourselves together, San is in a plain black tee and black jeans, glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose; you're in a simple get-up of a tight, white tee, dark jeans, an oversized blazer and boots. The two of you add finishing touches to hair or makeup before cleaning up around the room and heading downstairs to the next door restaurant for brunch. It's still pretty early, so you and San were sat immediately at a table on the back patio, facing the beach.

"This is pretty." You look out at the view. "It's perfect weather today."

"Yeah, it is." He flips through the menu. "You already know what you want, baby?"

"Mhm." You giggle. "I checked out the menu earlier." He laughs.

"Course."

"You ready to lead one of the panel discussions later?" He smiles.

"Uh, I'd say I'm way more relaxed knowing I don't have to prepare anything in advance." You nod. "What're you gonna do?"

"Listen in. Visit some posters after."

"Good thing my panel discussion is early. I actually don't plan on staying long unless you do."

"No. I only came for you, remember?" You tease. "I'm surprised they still managed to slip you into the conference somehow even though you confirmed last minute. You're so wanted, Professor Choi." He shakes his head. Suddenly, your phone starts blaring off to the side, your eyes darting straight down to the caller ID flashing on the screen.

Jiung.

That's right.

You said you'd call him back.

"You should get that, love." You silently nod, swiping to answer the call.

"Hey."

"Okay, well. At least you're alive."

"Jiung." You whine a bit. "I'm sorry, I forgot."

"Bro." Jiung chuckles a bit, though kinda disappointed he hasn't been able to spend time with his bestfriend or even talk to you like before. You feel busy, but too distant, and Jiung isn't sure how to feel about it. "Where have you been? You're always so busy now. I was lowkey expecting you to call back last night but you didn't even do that when you usually do." You fiddle with the hem of your shirt before letting out a small sigh.

"I'm sorry. I know. It's just been crazy hectic, but I promise I'll do better, okay?" San looks at you from where he's sitting, slight concern crossing his expression.

"It's not that. Sorry— I just miss being able to hang out with you like before. You feel so distant even though you're right there."

—FLASHBACK

"Ayooooo!" Sunwoo says, running into Jiung near the Harvey Center. He gives him a dap and pulls him in for a hug, pausing in his steps to catch up with him for a quick minute. "What's up? Crazy I've barely ran into you all this time."

"Aye." Jiung laughs. "How's everything been?"

"Dude, pretty busy. But, I think Y/N and I have gotten some really good data to work off of for her rotation update and for the upcoming review cycles for the paper."

"That's awesome, I'm glad."

"How're things in Jongho's lab?"

"Constantly moving, you know how it is." He nods in agreement. "But making progress for my own rotation update, too."

"Sick. Proud of you." Sunwoo nods. "When is Y/N coming back from the conference?"

"I'm not sure actually. Probably Monday or Tuesday."

"I feel like I've barely seen her even though we're in the same lab." Jiung cocks his head to the side.

"Don't you guys work on behavior together?"

"Uh, for awhile, she's been working on her own schedule and catches me up later on. We only meet if we need to, like to go over data or if something goes wrong elsewhere."

"But, I thought you guys have been working late nights? She always says she's running off to the lab for the mice or behavior work." Sunwoo shrugs.

"Sorry dude, beats me. She hasn't been in the lab late at night for awhile. Our mice have been fine and we're wrapping up this cohort."

"Huh." Jiung says audibly, even though he meant it for himself.

"Yeah. She left for the Baskin Conference hella quick. I didn't even see her at NAS."

"Wait, really? I thought—" It's Sunwoo's turn to look confused. "Nevermind. I thought she saw you."

"Nah, she said she was busy with you guys all week!"

"So, she didn't sleep at yours or Belle's room?" Sunwoo tilts his head.

"Bruh, what? No." He laughs. "She definitely wasn't with us, so I'm not sure who she was with."

"I see." Jiung nods slowly. "Yeah, I guess it's just been hectic for her."

"I bet. I remember rotation days." He chuckles. "Anyway, gotta run. It was nice catching up for a quick minute." Jiung nods before parting ways. He lets out a breath, running his hand through his hair as he pulls out his phone.

He pauses.

What the fuck was he even gonna ask? How was he even gonna ask? While you're away, too?

What is even going through his mind right now?

"Ugh." Jiung groans, pulling up Felix's number to see if he's around, hoping it'll get his mind off of things until he can cohesively gather his thoughts. Meanwhile, Zara and Jongho are sitting at a table outside, waiting for the rest of the group to trickle in for lunch. Zara is having a fun, light conversation with Jongho about future lab plans just as Jiung crosses over. With Jiung passing the café, Zara suddenly gets triggered to ask the most pressing question she's had since the NAS conference. And Jongho senses it too, because by the time she shifts her attention back to him, he's already cocking a brow up.

"Jongho."

"Yes?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure? I might have an answer."

"San." Jongho smirks a bit as he sips on his iced americano.

"Ew." He laughs in his usual Jongho fashion, causing Zara to giggle shyly at her attempts of hiding her crush on his bestfriend. "Kidding. What about him?"

"Actually, now I'm kinda shy."

"No, you already put it out there so you have to ask now." Jongho chuckles.

"Has he been seeing anyone recently?" He takes a sip and sits back, letting out a sigh.

"You know, to be honest. I can't say for sure, but I think he is." He looks at her and can physically see the hope leaving her body. She's sad, and she has a right to be. Mingi tried his best to set them up and for a split second, it seemed like it could work.

Obviously, it didn't.

"I'm sorry, Zara. I know that's not what you wanna hear, but I have to be honest so that you don't get hurt. I think whatever your gut has been telling you is right."

"Is it too much to ask who? Like are they from here?" He shrugs.

"That asshole hasn't told me much lately." She laughs, and Jongho feels relieved he can at least cheer her up amidst the news.

He knows.

He knows exactly who it is and how long it's been. San didn't have to tell him, but he could have at least let her know he wasn't interested. Fucking Choi San.

"It's fine. It shouldn't matter anyway, he seems to be happy."

"Yeah." Jongho adds. "Yeah, he does."

"And I just hope he's doing the right thing." Jongho looks at her without saying much besides a simple nod.

Maybe, she knows too.

—END

"I know." Silence. "I'll make up for it when I get back."

"All good. I just hadda get it off of my chest."

"We'll plan things like the old days, k?"

"When are you getting back, anyway?"

"Tomorrow evening. Late."

"Hm, okay. Are you enjoying your stay at least?"

"I am, it's really nice here."

"That's good. Enjoy yourself there, but be safe, please."

"I will."

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Are you sure you are?" What he really means to say is 'i know you haven't been telling the truth and i just wanna know why.'

"I am, Jiung. I promise."

"Did you see anyone there, by the way? Any familiar faces? Professors?" You furrow your brows at the random question.

"Hm, no. Not yet, at least. I've been staying at a hotel that's a little farther out."

"Oh. Why? Was it cheaper?"

"Mhm." You respond just to brush off the topic.

"I heard Professor Choi was gonna be there, though!"

"Mm. I think it might've been mentioned by him in passing." Jiung fiddles with the hem of his shirt while he listens to the awkward silence on the other line, trying to figure out what exactly he's trying to hear from you. He remembers Jurin mentioning that she saw you with Professor Choi at the bar and she jokingly teased about it. And Jiung laughed it off. But, now he doesn't think it's a joke anymore. Cause everything within him is pointing to something he thinks is entirely off, entirely wrong. Unreal.

Unacceptable.

But, the pieces to the puzzle are slowly being put together and he swears he can't ignore the feeling in his gut. What exactly is it trying to tell him?

That it's true?

He doesn't want it to be, and for once, he hopes he's fucking wrong.

"Alright, well. I'll let you be." He yawns. "I'm about to go out for a run."

"Be safe."

"Text me when you get home, please?"

"I will."

"Is.. everything okay?" You sigh and set your phone aside.

"Yeah, it's just Jiung. We've always been close and we've always spent a lot of time together so he was just wondering where I've been."

"I'm sorry, baby."

"No, you don't have to say sorry. I just have to be better about my time and spending more time with my friends. Kinda hard when you have a hot bf." He snorts.

"But, you should spend more time with them. I'm not going anywhere so don't worry about me."

"It's on me."

"You think they know who you've been spending time with?" He smirks just as the waitress comes to set down the food. San gives her a quick nod of appreciation before returning his attention to you.

"I don't think so."

"Even Jiung?"

"Doubt it." You start digging into your food.

"Can I ask you one more thing, angel?" You look up at him and nod, chewing your food. "Have you ever thought Jiung liked you as more than a friend?"

"No way." He cocks a brow up as he eats.

"You sure?"

"I'm so sure, Sannie."

"I'm genuinely just curious. He seems to really care about you."

"And I do, too. But, we do as friends."

"Fair enough." Is all San says. He's not entirely bothered by it, but at the same time, he is. Because he knows they'll find out one day. He knows the relationship won't always be a secret to your friends. He's just not sure what that means when it comes to Jiung and how much of a voice he'll be in your ear. Would he try to convince you that San doesn't care about you? Would he try to convince you that all of this was incredibly wrong? Force you to face the facts and wake the hell up?

He brushes the thoughts away when you start talking about your mom and how you plan to see her next weekend. The conversation goes down the rabbit hole— the two of you exchanging more childhood stories and memories.

When breakfast is done, you and San drive over to the venue for the conference. The session for the panel discussion he's participating in starts right after the first talk of the conference. When he pulls up to the venue, he luckily finds a spot at the back end, far corner. It's a bit of a walk to the main entrance, and San is having to walk in first since he needs to check in and head straight to the mic room for audio testing and a quick run down of what to expect. You trail in a few minutes after, checking in as a regular guest and grabbing the agenda on your way into the main conference room where all the talks and poster sessions would be taking place.

You don't see any familiar faces or professors you personally know, which allows you to release a breath of relief. You settle into a seat as the first speaker gets introduced and settled onto the stage, the crew bringing up her presentation on the projector. San is sitting off to the side with two other people— names you are slightly familiar with, but haven't done much research on their work or what they've been up to. Everyone around you is dressed in business casual attire as well, taking notes as she continues to go through her 20 minute presentation. Once the 20 mins breezes on by, the host kicks off the 10 min discussion session that starts off with San highlighting some of her data. It does spark a lively conversation between the panelists and the crowd, a few people raising their hands for quick questions.

After her session finishes, the host introduces the next talk that follows the same format, then the last of the session. It's about a good hour and a half, shy over a few minutes, that they conclude session one and adjourn for a break before session two. You head to the opposite end of the room to see the posters up at this time, pausing at a few and jotting down some notes for Belle and Sunwoo. You know they'd be interested in hearing your findings, and you've already stumbled across some intriguing projects in the 15 minutes you've walked down the aisle. As session two kicks off, you continue to observe the rest of the posters, spotting San in the crowd speaking to a small group of people around him. You watch him for a little, adoring the way he flawlessly pulls people in and charms them with his signature, dimpled smile. He has a hand in his pocket, cup of coffee in the other hand.

It's definitely black coffee and you can't help but wince a little to yourself knowing he's happily sipping that.

And, somehow, he always manages to catch you. Just as you're about to turn and finish up with the posters, he meets your gaze and gives you a tiny smile. His eyes linger on you for a little longer before he returns his attention to the group, causing the heat to rise to your cheeks as you pass through the remaining presenters.

san: wanna head out after session 3?

you: damn already? 🤣

san: baby? lol.

san: i meant it when i said i wasn't trying to stay long. 🥹

san: i just wanna get out of here and spend more time with you before we have to fly back.

you: mkay, lover boy. hahaha

san: come meet me by the ballroom entrance, we can find a seat together once session 2 wraps up.

you: okay, professor!

You do as you're told, meeting San by the entrance. You stick by his side as you wait for session two to wrap up, proceeding to the free seats near the left side of the room. The both of you keep it strictly professional as others settle around you, only really discussing things like your findings from the poster session or his panel discussion.

No one bats an eye.

Meanwhile, Yunho walks into lobby and struts into the conference late. He rushed over from a prior commitment, only deciding to join the conference since he was already in the area. Session 3 is about to end, but Yunho is at the back, greeting those around him quietly before taking a moment to stroll down the posters. He asks a few questions, engages with a few presenters before running into other familiar faces and conversing with them. He follows them over to the finger foods that have been set out for lunch, grabbing some quick bites to nibble on. At some point, he hurries off to the bathroom to release himself and quickly freshen up— already pretty exhausted from his day, and it's barely past lunch time.

When Yunho exits the bathroom, he has to pause in his steps when he does a double-take after hearing the side back door shut and catches you with San. The two of you are leaving the venue— his hand on the small of your back while he hurriedly guides you to the passenger's seat of his car near the back end of the lot. Yunho continues to watch as San slips into the front seat, swallowing the lump in this throat as he pulls out and drives off.

Now, Yunho feels the conflict bubbling within him cause he didn't want to be right.

Yet, he is.

And it can't be good for anybody.

"Hey." Yunho answers the call [coincidentally] coming in from his wife. He sets down the hall, eyes still peering out into the lot as if he can see more of you and San. He clearly doesn't, but it doesn't make the feeling in his stomach settle.

"Hey! How's the conference going?"

"It's going well! Nothing too crazy." Is all he manages to say, which catches Iseul off guard. He's typically one to say more, so him holding back feels weird to her.

"You sure it's going well? You sound pretty quiet."

"Yeah, uh. It's nothing."

"Love." He sighs, silently greeting familiar faces before excusing himself to the corner of the lobby where it's a little quieter.

"I just don't know how to explain what I saw."

"Try?"

"San's here with Y/N, my TA."

"Okay? She's rotating in his lab, right? People meet up with their students all the time, I don't get it?"

"No, baby. Listen. I think he's here.. with her." There's a small pause before Iseul speaks up again.

"Are you sure? Cause that's a pretty bold assumption. You know something like that is serious and can cause a lot of issues."

"I don't know. I can't say, but I'm just feeling weird about it. I did see them together at NAS, too. Saw them getting kinda close with each other, away from the crowd." Yunho just briefly remembers running into you and San on his way out of the bathroom. The two of you had been standing off to the side in a far corner, sipping on some water while talking. San was standing in close proximity to you, smiling down at you almost like—

There was fondness in his eyes, some kind of awe and admiration for you.

Yunho and San haven't talked in years, but he still knows what that look is. He's seen it before.

Starting with the symposium.

"Yunho, why don't you talk to Namjoon?"

"No, no." He shakes his head as he continues to pace around the same corner. "Not gonna do that right now cause what if I'm entirely wrong? I don't have any other concrete facts besides what I saw. What if he's just offering her a ride?"

"I mean, that could mean something or nothing at all. Were they just walking alongside of each other or..?"

"Uh, no." He scratches at his temple. "He had his hand on her back and guided her to the car."

"Okay, so it's something. You should talk to Namjoon." He shakes his head— torn between doing what's right versus what's wrong; aka letting San be happy despite how fucked up all of that is on the surface level.

"I, yeah— Anyway, that's all. Enough about that, I'll figure it out." Iseul sighs. "Conference is good though, seeing more familiar faces than I did at NAS."

"Hm." Iseul hums, now thinking about the idea of San potentially dating a student. She doesn't try to meddle though because both her and Yunho don't have much to work with. And although her and San don't get along, she doesn't wanna cause any more trouble for him. "That's good, honey."

Yet, at the same time, there's no way she can let this be now. Yunho opened that door and they're here.

If she needs to help him figure it out, then that's exactly what she'll do.

—read 9.5 here

—taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @vcutparis @chngbnwf @struggling101 @sanhwalvr @angelqueendom @barbielibra @brown88 @choisansplushie @yunhoswrldddd @hyukssunflower @vickykazuya @lucid-galaxys-world @jaytheatiny @pommelex @thechaotictheoryy @vixensss @santineez @nopension @domfikeluva @in-somnias-world @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @mountiiny @naoristerling

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naoristerling · 6 months ago

Text

If Without You

Wooyoung x reader

best friends to lovers au

word count: 14?k idk

genre and warnings: fluff, angst, suggestive.

synopsis: your childhood best friend wooyoung decides to move in with you in the middle of your college degree, and now you just have to live with him and hide your very romantic feelings for him in the fear it would ruin your friendship.

The problem with your best friend Wooyoung was that his love language was physical touch.

And as someone who was deeply in love with their best friend, you weren't in quite an optimal situation- especially when that said best friend was going to move into your apartment until he found one for himself.

You found yourself irrationally panicking because of a number of reasons. First of all, your two-bedroom apartment was a mess right now. Secondly, there was only one bed, and having been childhood friends with Wooyoung which involved a lot of sleepovers, you knew he was going to get in your bed and make you sleep with him, so you had to somehow avoid that. And third...

You were positive he would notice you being all jumpy around him, and that couldn't end well.

You paused in the middle of cleaning the kitchen counter, wondering how you landed yourself in this shithole of one-sided feelings that you still didn't dare tell anyone about. You had been friends since elementary school with Wooyoung, your families being friends as well, and it was quite natural for the adults that you two got along so well, having sleepovers and what not.

And you could see why. Wooyoung, being the social butterfly that he was, had everyone wrapped around his fingers. Everyone, including you, adored him, and for good reasons. He was a good soul, and the world really needed more people like Wooyoung.

However... it was senior year of high school when you started realizing the feelings you had for Wooyoung might be crossing the boundaries of 'best friends'. It was the way you loathed the idea of Wooyoung going out with a girl that was not you, not because you had other intentions but because you knew none of those girls were good enough for Wooyoung and they would break his heart, and you did not want the light in Wooyoung's eyes and his smile to dim.

It was the way you yourself couldn't stomach the idea of going out with a boy who wasn't Wooyoung- because it was so comfortable with Wooyoung who knew you inside out, whose touch didn't scare you, whose hugs and kisses you never (okay, sometimes) got tired of. You would flinch when someone else touched you. You found your dates very, very boring. And you would always end up comparing the boys to Wooyoung.

And that had been the moment when you caught yourself comparing everyone with Wooyoung that you realized... and you were kinda glad that high school was over and you might part ways for college- only because you needed some time away from him to clear your head because the last thing you wanted was to ruin your friendship with him.

So when you moved out for college to another city, Wooyoung went to another city too, the two of you apart for the first time, which is when you started regretting being away from him because you missed him so much and two years into college but you still didn't have a friend like Wooyoung.

So it was quite a surprise to you when Wooyoung announced that now that he was done with his two years degree, he was moving to your city to pursue further studies and job and that he was moving with you right away so he wouldn't waste his holidays and find himself an apartment and a job.

Though the two of you called often, the last time you met was four months ago when you both were in your hometown, and you had been positive that you had your romantic feelings for Wooyoung under control. But now that you were going to be seeing him everyday...

You were not so sure anymore.

You prayed he had a girlfriend, or a boyfriend, anyone. You prayed he was taken so you would have a reason to not think about him like that. Though your heart hurt at the thought, you knew it was necessary.

Making sure your house was neat, you went to your room to change, taking a shower and drying your hair, wearing a plain black T shirt with ripped jeans so if the two of you went out for dinner, you'd simply have to don a jacket over it. You did find yourself applying light makeup and fret over your hair because, well, you should appear good to someone who was meeting you after a long time.

He shouldn't have to see you in your usual messy state just yet, though he was the person used to seeing you in that state the most.

You heard your phone ring and immediately picked up when you read Wooyoung's name on it.

"I'm downstairs, what's your apartment number?"

You found yourself at the door, waiting for him to come and ring the bell, then ditched the idea and just went outside, waiting for him because gosh, you missed your best friend so much.

And the ding of the elevator was the best sound you'd heard in a while, your face stretching into a big smile when you saw Wooyoung-

He had changed, a lot.

Wooyoung immediately ran to you, you mirroring his actions as he crashed you in a hug, laughing loudly and patting your back, kissing your temple and breaking the hug to look at you.

"You look different! Did you get a hair cut?"

"I did," you smiled, "And you dyed your hair! Why haven't I seen this, Jung Wooyoung?"

"I wanted to surprise you," he laughed, wriggling his brows, and you scanned him- he suddenly felt so much taller and-

"Have you been working out?!"

Wooyoung smirked, taking two steps back and flaunting his muscles, shrugging off his jacket. You wowed, shaking your head.

"I bet the girls were all over you."

"They were," he grinned, and you smiled, motioning him to come inside, taking his small bag, "The rest of my stuff arrives tomorrow."

"Good," you said, "So. What do you wanna eat?"

------------------

"This is so good," Wooyoung mumbled through his stuffed mouth, and you scoffed, putting another piece of meat in his bowl, "This is the place you love, right?"

"You can see why," you dipped your meat in a sauce, "The smell alone makes my knees weak."

"I can tell," Wooyoung grinned, "So, tell me how life has been these past four months."

You told him it had just been the usual- trying to balance studying and working and finding enough time for yourself too- going out and exploring, often alone, sitting in cafes with a book or your laptop, or if you were lucky, a friend.

"You still don't have a good friend?"

"I blame you for that," you eyed Wooyoung, "I forgot how to make friends because I never needed to. And look at you!"

"Ah, you can't exactly blame me," Wooyoung scoffed, "It's all you. You're scared that no one would be as good as me. My only fault is that I am your standard-"

You shut him when your threw your napkin at his face, making him shake his head, but the both of you noticed that you didn't deny it.

And Wooyoung did feel bad- he sometimes felt as if he really had stopped you from getting more exposure and making more friends, and he had often voiced this concern, but you had adamantly shut him down, saying you were an introvert through and through which meant you didn't like social interactions much and Wooyoung was a blessing to you because you would have been completely alone without him.

"What about you, huh? Did you make too many friends? Starting to forget about who really knows you?"

"Ay, come on. I can never," Wooyoung winked, sighing as he thought about how to word it to you, "I was... in a relationship. Didn't go well."

Your heart sank at his words, your brows furrowing in concern when you saw his face fall, "What went wrong?"

Wooyoung sipped on his water, "Well, the girl... she was my classmate. We were friends in the beginning, and she was a good friend, but then she said she wanted to try being more. And I liked her, so I thought it was a good idea. But..."

You instantly knew Wooyoung was going to hide something from you- he would always play with his earlobe when he wasn't being fully honest.

"She didn't like that I was... friends with everyone, friendly with anyone. So I ended it."

You narrowed your eyes at him, wanting to ask more but stopping because you could do that later. "If she can't accept you for who you are..."

"Exactly," Wooyoung smiled, "I know what I'm worth."

"You might think of yourself a tad bit too highly-"

"Ah, my self love has just increased tenfold ever since I broke up with her!" Wooyoung wriggled his shoulders in a silly dance and you waved your hand at him in dismissal, focusing on finishing the food.

"Are you sure you aren't in love with yourself, Wooyoung?"

"I might be," he grinned, and you couldn't help but laugh at how silly he was being.

Finishing up and paying the bill, you and Wooyoung started walking back to your apartment while you told him about the city, the expenses one normally had if they lived in an apartment like yours, which you had been lucky for, the time it took to get from college to home, from home to the main city, etc.

Entering your apartment, you showed him around- one room being your bedroom where you only slept, while the other was set to be your study/workplace, two desks in the corner.

"Are you okay with this room? I practically live in this room, so I don't mind either way."

"Your bed seems comfortable," Wooyoung pouted, and you rolled your eyes at him.

"Of course it does, take that room. I'll just sleep here-"

"Here? On that thing?"

"That thing, Wooyoung, is a futon where I nap occasionally, so I really don't see the problem."

"Oh come on," Wooyoung put an arm around your shoulder, "Think about the good old times, let's sleep together."

Your heart was jumping wildly in your chest and you were positive Wooyoung could hear it. You cleared your throat, sighing. "I'm a night-owl, so you can just sleep in my room. I'll sleep with you if I have the energy to make it to my room by the time I'm done with work."

"I better find you there," Wooyoung pointed a finger at you as he said it, and you twisted his finger, making him squeal in pain.

"You kick a lot while you sleep so I'm not so sure, Wooyoung."

Wooyoung grinned, saying he was going to take a shower, and as soon as he left the room, you slumped on your futon.

Because how long could you avoid sleeping in the same bed as him?

It wasn't like you both cuddled while sleeping- you were used to sleeping at the very corner and Wooyoung would hug a pillow while he slept. But... if you avoided him now, he would surely notice.

Let's think tomorrow, you thought, sitting on your desk and resuming your work from where you left.

---------------------

"You didn't come all night."

Your heart lurched at his words, making you almost choke on your drink, but you rolled your eyes.

"Stop being so dramatic, Wooyoung," you said, watching him stuff a pancake bite and pout, "I was too tired to even make it to the futon."

"Is that so?" He raised his brow, and you raised it back, because what did he mean by that?

He sighed in dismissal, "My stuff arrives today, I'm giving them your address. Should I just check if there's an apartment in your building available for me?"

Your eyes widened and you clapped, "We could be neighbours. Or wait-"

You both looked at each other, a slow grin spreading on each other's faces, "Should we just live together like we used to imagine?"

You thought about it- you and Wooyoung had always, when little, planned to just move out together and live together to save expenses and whatnot. It wasn't a bad idea- your apartment had two rooms. And yet...

It was Wooyoung.

You dismissed the other feelings, thinking from the perspective of the best friend you've known all your life and how this could work. It wasn't going to be a problem at all- in fact, it would relax you two from worrying about half the stuff you would have worried about if you continued living alone.

"But," you groaned, "You're too loud. And you never let me focus on my work-"

"Hey, is that the reason why you'll kick me out!" Wooyoung ran a hand through his hair, clearly disappointed, but you just shrugged.

"See? Too loud: proved."

"Oh come on," Wooyoung practically cried, "We'll split the bills and all, which means we both won't have to worry about working so much anymore, and- I'll even clean the house! I know you hate cleaning! And... I'll get the groceries!"

"No, I'll get the groceries, I actually like shopping alone. And as far as cleaning is concerned... just don't wreck the house."

"Does that mean it's a yes?" Wooyoung leaned forward, his eyes eager for a positive response, and you pretended to think about it.

"If you say no, what is our friendship even worth?"

"If you act like a fucking parasite, Wooyoung, I'll kick you out."

"Yay!" Wooyoung pumped his fist in the air, almost knocking his plate over, making you put your head in your hands.

"I'll make a list of rules and you have to follow them, or else I'm kicking you out."

"I'll do the same," Wooyoung said, grabbing a pen and paper from the nearest table and you gaped at him.

"I'm still the owner, you can't kick me out."

"As a matter of fact, I can, and you'll see that I can," Wooyoung warned, and you regretted ever saying yes, smiling as he handed you a page, the both of you working on your list. You tried peeking at his, but he just hid it from you, and you started listing your own rules:

1. If you're too loud, you're out.

2. If you are too clingy, you're out.

3. If you ever wear that rose scented men's perfume that I abhor, you're out.

4. If you tease me while I'm working, you're out.

5. If you invite friends over without my permission when I'm home, you're out.

6. If you so much as bring a girl home to have xxx in my bed, you're fucking out of my life.

7. If you're loud while I'm asleep, you're out.

"Hey, why are you being so harsh, putting 'you're out' after every sentence?" Wooyoung glared at you but you just folded your arms as he read the list.

"The last time I wore that perfume was when you told me you'd kill me if I wear it again!"

"Just had to make sure," you said, urging him to read the rest.

"Why would I bring a girl here when there's you?"

"I'm sorry, what?" You raised your brow, and Wooyoung stared at you for a moment before realizing how it sounded.

"I mean," he began, "I would never bring a girl home here, I know my limits."

"Thought so, now let me read yours," you said, and Wooyoung gave you his page, titled 'Wooyoung's Rules To Live By' in bold characters, making you scoff, and you started to read it:

1. You make the breakfast, I'll take care of lunch/dinner.

2. When I want to go out with you, you won't say no unless you have work or you're dying of an illness.

"Hey, what's with rule no. 2? If I don't feel like going out, you can't convince me to."

"I can, and I will," Wooyoung simply announced, making you sigh as you continued.

3. Saturday nights are our time, no meeting other people.

4. Good luck tolerating me :D

You snorted as you finished reading that short but meaningful rule list, agreeing to it.

"Was I too harsh with mine?" You wondered.

"You were!"

----------------

"I'm considering kicking you out, Wooyoung, how come you have so much stuff for a single person?"

"Uhh," Wooyoung scratched the back of his neck as he looked around for a place to step in the living room, finding none, "Let's save up and rent a bigger apartment?"

"Where is that one box that said fragile, let me just jump on it real quick-"

"HEY, I'm sorry, we'll figure it out!"

You glared at Wooyoung- he looked incredibly hot in a simple white shirt with jeans, his streaked hair tied in a ponytail. You hadn't seen him look better your whole life.

It had to be the reason why you gave in real quick, wondering where to start unpacking.

"Okay first of all," you said, "Since I practically live in my study room, shouldn't I just move the rest of my stuff there and let you have the room with the bed?"

"You don't need to move anything, I'm already inconveniencing you enough," Wooyoung said, and you raised an eyebrow as if to say 'glad you know'. "Let me put my clothes and stuff in the study room, and I'll set my pc on the desk next to you."

"Sounds good," you agreed, "Are these all... clothes? 5 boxes? Seriously Wooyoung?"

"And what do you know about fashion," he tsk-ed at you, "I'm gonna upgrade your wardrobe as soon as I go shopping."

"I don't buy on impulse like you, Wooyoung, which is why I'm the smarter one here occupying less space and wasting less money on trivial things."

"Whatevs," Wooyoung said haughtily, "Let's begin with the clothes."

Setting up two clothes rack in the corner of what would now be called 'Wooyoung's room', you started hanging his shirts and jackets, folding all of his trousers in one box and putting it beneath the rack to save space. Meanwhile Wooyoung started lining up his shoes and you wowed at his collection.

"That's too much, I'd throw at least 3 of them out."

"I'd throw you out before I throw my babies," Wooyoung cradled his sneakers and you sneered at him.

"Well, that makes half the stuff," you went out, noting how it was now half the boxes that were gone. "We really need a bigger apartment if we're living together, Wooyoung."

Wooyoung stood beside you, thinking. Your apartment wasn't that big, and you knew it was gonna be tough living like this because even you had no space for clothes and shoes which was why they were usually everywhere.

"Should we start looking for a bigger one when I start working? I mean, we can manage it now."

"I don't know about the living together part... I mean, think about it Wooyoung. How long can we live together?"

"Well," Wooyoung folded his arms, "We're studying for two years, right? So let's find a new apartment for two years. We don't know what the future holds. Who knows? Maybe you'll love living with me and won't want to leave me-"

"You won't want to leave me," you corrected, "I don't particularly care about leaving you behind, in case you didn't notice."

"Oh come on," Wooyoung grinned at you, "You know you love me."

"Do I?" You wondered, and Wooyoung put you in a chokehold, making you slap his arm repeatedly until he let you go.

"Rule no. 7: Chokehold me and you're out?"

Wooyoung waved a hand in dismissal, opening the box of his personal belongings, finding more stuff than he thought he'd have. He looked at you.

"Do you think I can just slide this under the bed?"

-----------------

It took another hour before you were done, deciding that yes, you'll both move to a better apartment because you had savings and wanted to keep living in this area, and Wooyoung would live with you for two years then probably move out, depending on the situation then. Since the two of you were worn out, you both were sitting shoulder to shoulder, half lying on the couch in the living room, the television on but both of you too tired to focus, waiting for food to be delivered.

"I think it's all the talking that gets me tired," you said.

"Are you saying I talk too much?"

"I'm saying you make me talk too much, dumbass," you sighed, "I'm so drained."

"Me too," Wooyoung said, sliding further down and resting his head on your shoulder, making you sigh internally.

You needed to get yourself a boyfriend so you'd stop thinking about Wooyoung.

But you weren't sure that would solve the problem, especially when Wooyoung was sitting like this, casually playing with your hands, "I don't think I said it, but thanks for letting me live with you. I was very lonely the past two years- I don't think I can live alone. I was always inviting someone for sleepovers."

You laughed lightly, patting his cheek because he was so adorable. "You really can't, can you?"

He leaned in to your touch, smiling, "This feels like I'm home. My apartment never felt like home, but this... it feels like home."

"I know what you mean," you said, agreeing because sitting here like this with him reminded you of your hometown, which you really missed.

The bell rang and Wooyoung got up, saying he'll get the food, and you cleared the table so he could place the pizza box there. As you both ate, you filled each other on gossip from your hometown, which went something like this:

"I can't believe Yunho and Mingi are finally dating. It was about fucking time."

"I'm just waiting for Seonghwa and Hongjoong to get married to someone else because if they cross 30 they'll just end up marrying each other."

"I think Yeosang has a girlfriend- there's no way he got that glow up for himself."

"San looks more and more like a playboy as he ages, I'm only okay with that because I know he's literal sunshine."

"Jongho and San's mom hang out more than the two now."

"My mom thinks I'll start going out with San only because that one time he dropped me off home when I met him four months ago."

Wooyoung laughed at that, the idea of you going out with San somehow more hilarious to him than it should have been. You eyed him as he laughed his lungs out.

"What?" You eyed him, "Do I not look like someone who would date San?"

"It's not that," he tried calming himself, "I just can't imagine it. Actually, I can't imagine you with anyone for that matter."

"Why? San is a pretty nice guy," you wondered, "And what do you mean by that, Jung Wooyoung? Am I that unattractive?"

"No, that's not what I mean, you're attractive enough," Wooyoung waved a hand at you, "It's just... I don't know what kind of a guy would make you happy, for that matter. I know you haven't had the best experiences in the past as well."

"Ugh," you pinched your nose bridge, "Do not recall the dark times."

"I literally had to drag you home because you wouldn't stop crying when you thought that guy founded you unattractive! Poor guy told me he just thought you weren't interested in him, and I had to give him a pat because he wasn't wrong."

"And what did I do for him to think I wasn't interested? He was kinda hot... what was his name again?" Wooyoung shrugged, and you continued, "Anyways, he was hotter than me definitely, and he wouldn't stop eyeing the girl that sat near us who was also hotter than me, so of course it hurt me. It was my first blind date and it was that time of the month, so don't blame me for being overly emotional."

"The problem with you, dear, is that you don't know how beautiful you are," Wooyoung said, and you looked at him- who gave him the right to say such things out loud and make your heart flutter? "Anyone who knows you knows that you're beautiful inside and out."

You smiled at him, and Wooyoung grinned, "Maybe more outside than inside, but-"

"HEY!" You slapped his arm, making him laugh out loud and apologize profusely.

"I was kidding! You know I love you and think you're beautiful, don't you?"

"I can't tell if you're joking or not anymore," you said, feeling heat creep up to your cheeks-

"Your blush says otherwise."

You gaped at him, slapping his arm again, muttering that you were going to wash up and go to bed, and once you were alone in the shower, you had to stifle the smile that made way to your face.

Wearing your PJs, you went to your room where Wooyoung had already made himself home in your bed, and you sat in front of your vanity, towel wrapped around your hair as you did your measly skincare routine.

"Tired?"

"Very," you answered, "I'm glad I worked before your stuff arrived."

"Aw, thanks for helping me out. Come on, I'll massage your shoulders as a gift."

"You don't need to," you said, but Wooyoung was already on his way, drying your hair with the towel and then massaging your shoulders, making you moan in satisfaction.

"That feel good?"

"Very," you grinned, "Learned it from my mom, didn't you?"

"Yes," he grinned back, "I can give you a back massage too."

"Nah, I'm good," you managed to say, and Wooyoung laughed, dragging you to bed with him, turning off all the lights except the dim night-light.

"This brings back memories," Wooyoung sighed, "Remember when we used to talk all night during sleepovers?"

"You did the talking, I did the listening," you said lazily, "We should do that again when I'm less sleepy."

"We will," Wooyoung promised, "I have so much to tell you."

"Me too," you smiled, welcoming sleep, feeling Wooyoung pull the covers on you.

----------------------

It was a rather busy first week with Wooyoung as a new resident. You had college in the morning, and though your work was mostly online, you still had to visit the office every once in a while. Apart from that, you were also using all the extra time you had to search for apartments, hoping to find a suitable one.

You had two things in mind you had to consider: An apartment you could afford even if you were living alone, and one feasible enough so two people could live in peace, weather it was Wooyoung or someone else.

You found three suitable ones- your favourite one out of the three was definitely one which was at quite a height, giving you a good view from the balcony. It was also the most expensive one out of the three, but nothing you couldn't afford.

You planned to take Wooyoung with you to finalize your apartment by the weekend. Wooyoung had been quite busy all week too, enrolling in college and finding work. Luckily, he had already contacted his workplace before he had arrived here, his friends already working there, so it had been easier for him.

You hadn't seen much of each other the whole week as well, but you figured it would get better once you were both settled in the new apartment. The only time you had for each other anymore was either during breakfast, where you both were too sleepy to talk much, and night where one of you already passed out somewhere before the other got home.

You were looking forward to the weekend, hoping to go out with Wooyoung, and it was definitely not because you remembered his Saturday-is-us rule. You really wanted a break, but figured Wooyoung must want it more, so you wanted to do something special for Wooyoung.

Which was why when you got home on Friday night, you waited until Wooyoung got home and asked if he had dinner, fixing something quick from the fridge so he could eat while you sat in front of him.

"This was one hell of a week and I want to go back to my hometown and sleep in my mom's lap with my little brother in my arms."

"What about your poor dad?"

"He can sleep on the couch," Wooyoung simply said, making you laugh.

"Gosh, you're such a baby. Anyways, are you free tomorrow? You know I have to show you the apartments, do you remember?"

"I do, and I'm free," Wooyoung was eating rather quickly and you told him to slow down.

"Okay, tomorrow is your day. What do you want to do? Let's do whatever you want."

Wooyoung set down his bowl, staring at you as he thought while you made faces at him to check if he was actually watching you or zoning out while he thought about it.

He was zoning out.

You saw his eyes come back to focus and he smiled, "Well, let's check out the apartments in the morning, lunch is on me, roam around in the evening and... do you wanna go clubbing?"

"Wooyoung! You know I hate clubs!"

"We need to have a drinking session and go to a bar or something!" Wooyoung practically shouted, "I don't understand why you don't drink when you're with me!"

"One of us drunk is enough, Wooyoung, two of us drunk would be a disaster," you shook your head.

"But I'm a good drinker," Wooyoung looked confused, "I can handle my drinks. You can't."

"You're a disaster anyway, drunk or not," you said, Wooyoung scoffing.

"Are you embarrassed because of that one time you couldn't stop crying when drunk-"

"That was one time!"

"That was the only time you drank with me!" Wooyoung looked disappointed and you knew why.

But he didn't need to know that the reason you had been a crying mess when drunk in front of Wooyoung was because you wanted to confess to him but held yourself back by crying because you feared it would ruin your friendship.

You didn't want to risk it again.

"Let's... keep the drinking for later," you said, hoping to delay it... two years if you could, "Let's do something else tomorrow."

"Alright," Wooyoung sighed and you breathed in relief, "We'll think of something then."

Which was how you ended up hiking at the night, trying to find a good spot to sit back and relax. 'Healing', Wooyoung called it, though you told him your feet would need actual healing after all the walking they had done today.

It had been an eventful and fun day. Wooyoung liked your choice of the apartment and you both finalized it, deciding to move in next weekend, taking note of all the things you'd need to buy for your new home. You both were pretty stoked about it, and talked about it throughout lunch- deciding to go for street food, trying different things.

You did buy some things for home when you explored the shops with Wooyoung, and decided to drop the stuff at your apartment first and freshen up before going hiking, which was Wooyoung's big plan.

After about 40 minutes of slow hiking, you reached the spot Wooyoung had showed you in pictures- and you had to admit, it was a good spot. The view was spectacular, especially with the full moon shining down on the lit city. The slow breeze caressed your skin and you stretched, Wooyoung taking out snacks from his bag and handing a chocolate to you.

"You better be carrying me on your back when we go down or give my feet a massage," you joked, Wooyoung smacking your thigh.

"Going down is easier, don't be so dramatic."

"It's a nice spot though," you admitted, "I'd say we could drink here but... I won't make it down."

Wooyoung laughed, "You'd wake the animals with all your crying too-"

"I don't cry every time I drink, Wooyoung, it was only one time!"

"Why did you even cry? You never told me," Wooyoung pouted.

"I don't remember," you lied smoothly, "Probably because I wanted to get rid of you?"

Wooyoung scoffed, "As if you could. I'd be the last person in your life when you get rid of everyone, and you'd be stuck with me."

"True," you grinned, "I don't think you can say the same, you unfaithful brat-"

"I'm not! You know you're my number one."

"Ha. You tell that to me when you get a girlfriend."

"You don't believe me, do you?" Wooyoung looked at you, and you noticed the change in his tone, making you raise your brow in confusion.

"Do you know why I broke up with my ex?"

"Because she thought you were too friendly with everyone?"

"Part of the reason. She mainly had a problem with... you."

Your heart sank, eyes surprised as you pointed a finger at yourself. "Me? What did I do?"

"Nothing," Wooyoung assured, "It's just... she saw how I talked to you. I told her you've been my best friend all your life but... somehow she didn't like the idea that you were more important to me than her."

"But, Wooyoung," you turned to face him, "You do realize that once you're in a relationship, you should, I don't know, prioritize your partner more? I'm not going anywhere-"

"No. You're my best friend, she was my girlfriend. It was two different things, and if she thought I'd talk to you less because I had her now... I can't. I can't replace what I have with you, you know? I don't think I'll find what I have with you in a partner."

You scanned his face, suddenly unreadable. There were too many layers to his words, and you didn't know which one to focus on. Wooyoung noticed your confusion, patting your arm.

"What I'm saying is, if anyone thinks I'll break things up with you for them, they can go to hell."

"Ah," you smiled shamelessly, "Sounds good to hear."

Wooyoung grinned, scooting you closer and wrapping his arm around you.

There it was. His love language.

So you didn't fight back, nibbling on your chocolate as the both of you sat in each other's arms, offering him some and almost crying when he bit the whole thing off.

-------------------

"I'm throwing this, you don't need it-"

"NO! That BBQ owner back home gave this to me, it's a memory!"

"You are too attached to useless stuff, Wooyoung, why did you even bring this lamp here? It doesn't even work!"

Wooyoung paused what he was doing, staring from you at the lamp then back, pondering.

"Come on, Wooyoung, it's not a tough decision-"

"Okay, throw it," he groaned, "Throw everything. Throw me out!"

"Gladly," you pretended to kick him, "Stop being so dramatic, the truck's almost here."

The two of you had been arguing back and forth all day long as you packed, and when the truck arrived, you were glad for the break your ears got. Taking one look at your now empty apartment, you said goodbye to the two very uneventful years you had spent here. It felt bittersweet, and that was good.

Arriving at your new apartment and unloading everything first, you and Wooyoung finally sat on the couch, looking at all the boxes and furniture.

"Where do we start."

You laughed internally at how it came out more as a statement- Wooyoung must finally be tired. "Can we sleep right here?"

"Please," he groaned, immediately lying down with his head on your lap, and you unconsciously started running your hands through his hair, realizing only when he said, "Give me a massage while you're at it."

You slapped his forehead instead- lightly, but not light enough to prevent his loud shout, and before your ears could bleed, you shut his mouth with your hand, and his eyes lit mischievously as he took that opportunity to lick your hand, making you scream and wipe it on his clothes while he laughed, trying to push him off of you.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. Just play with my hair, it felt nice."

You gave him a side eye but continued the slow motions through his silky hair and he shut his eyes.

"Don't sleep here, I'll throw you on the floor if you do."

"This is more comfortable than the bed."

"Shut up."

"I'm not lying."

You were glad his eyes were shut because you had to put a hand on your face to calm your wildly beating heart.

"I think we should at least set the bed first," you said, "Let's just deal with the rest later, tomorrow's Sunday anyway."

"Yeah, just two more minutes," Wooyoung fisted your hoodie in his hands as he got comfortable, and you sighed at the sight.

You could get used to this.

"You look like a cat right now," you laughed lightly, caressing his hair at the temples, "Also, you need to eat more. Your cheekbones and jaw are so prominent now."

You weren't sure if Wooyoung was listening or staying silent on purpose, but you found yourself caressing his cheekbone with your thumb, tracing his sharp nose bridge- a very attractive feature on him. You touched the mole beneath his eye like a button, scoffing, then continued playing with the hair, curling it at the nape of his neck-

"You're tickling me now."

You suddenly came out of your trance, taking a second to gather your wits and then slapping his neck, telling him to wake the hell up.

Sleepily, Wooyoung helped you set the bed, making sure everything was right, then set the mattress, and you had to stop him from falling right on top of it, telling him to wait. You went out in the living room, searching for the box labeled 'sheets', quickly tearing it apart and taking the sheets out.

"Good thing we had dinner, you look ready to die, Wooyoung."

"I'm sleepier thanks to you," he said, collapsing unceremoniously on the bed.

"What do you mean?"

"Can you play with my hair again? It felt so good, it will put me to sleep right away."

You audibly exhaled, shaking your head but too tired to argue, getting in bed after turning off the lights, not bothering to change, Wooyoung's eyes lazily watching you the whole time-

He really looked... different, in all the dim lights, on your bed, tired.

Hands on your hips, you were zoned out as you stared at him, wondering what you would do with him. Wooyoung was staring right back, and when he patted the space next to him, you took that place, adjusting yourself so your arm wouldn't fall off as you caressed his head.

He shut his eyes immediately, and you played with his hair, caressing his head until his breathing became regular, which was when you cautiously caressed his face, smiling when he didn't respond.

He must have been really tired to have slept this quickly.

You cupped his face, stroking his cheek with your thumb, overwhelmed by the way your heart ached at the sight.

So near yet so far.

You smiled sadly, suddenly feeling the urge to cry. But you only kissed his forehead lightly, lingering a bit before you drew back.

"I love you so much."

The whisper was lost to the air, and you fell asleep with your hand on his.

You didn't notice his hand caressing yours as you fell asleep.

-----------------

Once again, you were wishing you could throw Wooyoung out of the window.

"You're being... dumb, Wooyoung."

"You don't get my point," Wooyoung was done with you too, "With the both of us having to work from home most of the time, why don't we use one room as an office and one room as a bedroom? Just like in the previous apartment?"

"All this because you can't work alone?"

"Please, I need some company while working or else I'll get bored," he whined, "And you know even if we have separate rooms, I'll end up spending more time in your room anyway, so what's the point?"

"You're sounding very much like the parasite I mentioned will get you kicked out."

"It said nothing about me being a parasite."

"It said 'If you act clingy, you're out."

"But I'm not clingy right now," Wooyoung raised his hands in the air, "I'm a parasite."

"Semantics," you said, biting your lips as you thought about it. "If you're gonna be in my room 24/7 anyway, I guess I shouldn't bother."

"See, that's exactly my point."

You shook your head at the grinning Wooyoung, deciding to share the closet attached to one of the rooms which had ample space, setting the clothes racks Wooyoung had as well, all of your clothes and his now in their rightful place.

"I like this," you stood back and grinned, Wooyoung sharing the grin, "Should I set my vanity here too?"

"Set it in the room, we have enough space there," Wooyoung suggested, and you agreed.

Placing your personal items on the vanity, Wooyoung adding some of his products too, you were finally done with the bedroom, the living room and the kitchen. Only the 'study room/office/get-away-from-wooyoung' room remained.

"Let's place the desks together," Wooyoung suggested.

"You'll never let me work in peace that way."

"That's why I'm doing this in the first place," he grinned, and you groaned, giving in, setting the desks in one corner together, no gap so you could place your stuff without worries, but you made a point to place your chairs as further apart as possible, making Wooyoung laugh.

"The futon goes there," you pointed at the opposite wall, "And all our extra stuff in those boxes, we can pile there."

After you were done, you placed some frames on the desk- a picture of you and Wooyoung on the beach, a picture of you with your family, a picture of Wooyoung with his family. You smiled at the sight, Wooyoung calling you outside for dinner.

Wooyoung had brought two chairs from his apartment that you placed in your balcony, making it your little spot to relax and gossip with Wooyoung. He set the bowls of ramen there, motioning for you to join him, and you did, slurping your noodles.

"We got this apartment set quicker than I expected," Wooyoung checked the time- it was almost midnight, "I thought it would take Monday as well."

"Would have spared more time if you weren't being so petty and you know that."

Wooyoung shrugged, a guilty smile on his face, "I like this. It's really relaxing to sit here like this, feels like home."

"It does," you nodded, gazing at the cloudy night sky.

"I forgot to tell you," Wooyoung began, "San's here visiting his aunt. Should we invite him over?"

"Oh, we should," you cheered up- you had been friends with all of Wooyoung's friends from school, not as close as with Wooyoung of close but enough that you were comfortable.

"I'll tell him to come by when he's free. We can take him out or just relax at home."

"Yeah, whatever we feel like it that day. We should all have a reunion soon, I kinda miss our old school friends."

"Me too," Wooyoung smiled, "Let's go to the reunion this year, we missed last year's."

You nodded- you both had been busy with work at that time so you couldn't make it to your hometown.

"So, San," you began, "If he gets any hotter than the last time I saw him, I'll politely ask him to sleep over-"

Wooyoung threw a pen at you, making you scowl. "You can't do that when I'm here!"

"I'm doing nothing, what's running in your filthy mind, Jung Wooyoung?" You laughed, "I'm only kidding, of course. You know San is not my type."

"What, exactly, is your type?"

You exhaled, looking at Wooyoung.

You.

"Someone who's not as loud, clingy, parasitic as you-"

"Can you stop calling me a parasite, it hurts!" Wooyoung threw his head back, laughing, and you had to wonder how exactly it hurt that he was laughing like this.

"But someone who is as hot as me, if not hotter, right?" Wooyoung wriggled his eyebrows and you pretended to throw up.

"Fine," Wooyoung scoffed, suddenly angry with you, "You'll never find a man, I curse you to never-"

"Oh, come on," you got up, running your fingers under his chin like a cat's- something you did to cheer him up, "I need someone exactly like you. Happy?"

Wooyoung smiled, leaning in to your touch, and you said, "I need someone as loud and clingy as you."

"Again-"

"Listen, dumbass," you slapped his cheek lightly, "I need someone loud and clingy so they can balance me. And I need someone with a heart like yours. Now where would I ever find someone like you?"

"You'll die all alone."

You shook your head, taking Wooyoung's chin in your hand and pulling him up to face you, bringing your own face closer as you said:

"If I can't find someone like you, you'll never find someone as good as me too."

The two of you stared at each other, none of you moving, half grins on your faces as you glared at each other, and when Wooyoung licked his lips (probably unconsciously) you suddenly became aware of the position you were in, dropping your hand and going inside to get water, leaving him staring at you.

Wooyoung sighed-

This wasn't how he had expected things to turn out, but he wasn't complaining.

He hadn't expected to become a wreck inside with you around.

But it felt good.

----------------------

It was the day San was coming over to visit.

You both had decided to invite him to your apartment, relax and catch up, maybe go out for dinner or order something for home if you felt like it. You were both excited- San was one of Wooyoung's closest friends, and naturally yours too.

You were dressed in a navy blue shirt and black denim trousers- simple, but you wanted to look good for a change, which was why you were sitting on your vanity, blow-drying your hair to perfection.

"We should really go out, I'm making all this effort," you muttered to Wooyoung who had been watching you do your hair for the past 10 minutes now, "Also, can you stop looking at me like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like I'm planning the murder of your unborn child," you side-eyed him, "Do I not look good?"

"I just," Wooyoung ran a hand through his messy hair, "Why all the effort? It's only San."

"I'm not doing this for San," you looked at him- was he...

No. He couldn't be.

"I'm doing this for myself, because I want to feel good," you simply said, continuing with your hair, finally done. You applied the little everyday makeup that was your routine for whenever you would go out.

"Come on, I'll do your hair too. I know just how to make it look good."

Wooyoung gladly sat, letting you style his hair-he was getting used to you running your hands through his hair, in fact, he was almost addicted to the feeling because you were always so gentle-

"I can see your eyes roll, are you enjoying this?" You had fisted his hair now, tugging at it a bit harshly, making him laugh.

"And here I was thinking how gentle you were with my hair," Wooyoung let out a disappointed sigh, "This looks good though. Do you think you can be my personal stylist?"

"Only if you pay me," you grinned. You heard the bell ring, and you hurriedly gave the last touches to Wooyoung's hair, running to the door, Wooyoung right behind.

"San!" You gasped- he had changed so much, "What is city life doing to you boys!"

San laughed, hugging you good and long, then handing you a bouquet of white roses which you thanked him for, calling him inside. "How have you been?"

"I'm good," you said, smiling when he spotted Wooyoung and crushed him in a hug, "You both are making it look like you're long lost lovers."

"Shut up," San laughed, dangling a shopping bag in his hands, "I got us drinks."

"Oh no," you took the drinks from him, hiding it from Wooyoung, "We'll keep these for later."

You all settled in the living room, catching up on life, and you had to ask him just what the city life was doing to all the boys- everyone you knew had been working out, no longer looking like boys but looking more like men.

"I love your hair!" you pointed at his ash mullet, "I should do something with my hair too, don't you think? Normal hair is making me look boring now."

"You should, something like mine," San said, "Get ash highlights or something. We could match."

You grinned, but Wooyoung wasn't having any of it.

"Or get some streaks like mine."

"I don't think that would suit me," you pouted.

"Anything would suit you," Wooyoung said casually, offering San some peanuts.

"I'll see," you waved your hand dismissively, "So, San. Is there a special someone back there?"

San laughed at you wriggling your brows at him, putting his hand on his face, "Not yet, not yet."

"Aw," you laughed, he was just so... cute. "What's your plan? Are you gonna settle there or go back home?"

"I don't think I want go back just yet," San said, "I want to experience new things. I want to do so much, and I don't think I can do that in our hometown."

"True," Wooyoung said, "Which was why I moved here. Better opportunities."

"How come you're living together and you," San looked at you, "Are still alive and sane?"

You laughed out loud, "I wonder how."

Wooyoung slapped your arm, "You should ask me how I'm living with her when she's practically a sloth-"

"You're the one who decided to make home here," you interrupted him.

"You're the one who gladly let me!"

"Gladly?" You scoffed, "I would have-"

"Come on, let's not fight," San laughed, pushing you both apart before you were at each other's throats, but he knew it was all jokes. He wasn't unaware of the love you had for each other, "Stop fighting like a married couple. Let's go out."

"As if," you sneered at Wooyoung, who just growled back, making all of you laugh.

You treated San to dinner at the same BBQ place that was basically a second home to Wooyoung now too, and Wooyoung decided to have a drinking session at home, ruining your plan which was to make them forget about the drinks altogether.

"Just call me a taxi before I pass out from drinking too much," San said.

"You can stay here, we have space," you offered.

"Nah, I have to leave for home first thing in the morning," San said, "Maybe some other time."

"Don't let her drink," Wooyoung elbowed San, "She'll start crying-"

"ONE TIME, WOOYOUNG," you pinched your nose bridge.

"She cried?" San narrowed his eyes at you, "That's not how it quite went when she drank with me-"

"When did that happen, excuse me," Wooyoung folded his arms in question.

You sighed, internally cursing San who was grinning, because he was the only person aware of your not-so-platonic feelings for Wooyoung- he wasn't 100% sure, but he had high suspicions and you never denied them.

"You don't need to know," you dismissed him, glaring at San who just tried stifling his own laugh. You brought the drinks and three glasses, "Bottoms up."

Wooyoung was definitely the best drinker in the room, San and you already flushed after one bottle. Wooyoung had an evil grin plastered on his face as he watched you two mirror each other's expressions- head resting on one hand, playing with the glass with the other hand.

"Do you think about how we might not be worth anything to someone?" San began, "I think it's really sad how we might be of zero value to someone."

"I think if someone knows you," you rubbed your eyes, "you value at least a 1 out of 100. That's definitely something."

"Only 1? What am I to you then?"

"Hmm," you thought about it, "A solid... 70?"

"And here I was giving you an 80," San shook his head, "Where did the rest go? Have I done something wrong?"

"No, it's a very good score actually," you said, "The highest is 90, so it's a good score."

"And who's the highest? Your mom?"

"Nope," you faltered, your brain telling you to shut the hell up but your heart not ready.

"Ah.. is it-"

"Of course it's me," Wooyoung patted your back, "You're a 99 to me, don't worry."

"Where it that 1? Do you know how much that 1 matters?"

"And here you told me 1 is something!" San frowned.

Wooyoung laughed at you both, "You're very drunk. San, I'm calling you a taxi, you need to get home."

"Okay," San slumped against you, "Thanks for inviting me."

"Thanks for coming," you slurred lazily, "It was nice to have someone to look at who's not Wooyoung."

Wooyoung shook his head, gathering San's stuff and helping him up, and you lazily got up too, waving your hand at San.

"Text me when you get home," Wooyoung told San and he nodded, leaving you two alone like usual.

"Do you wanna keep drinking or go to bed?"

"Both."

"Come on, let's get you to bed," Wooyoung laughed when you pouted, but you tugged at his sleeves, making him sit with you.

"One more drink, please."

Wooyoung poured the drink for you, filling his own glass as well, and you knew you were going to regret this, but-

"You're a 99 to me too."

Wooyoung smiled- you were too adorable to handle right now. He pinched your cheek, "What's the 1 for?"

"It's because you are not mine," you said, and Wooyoung frowned.

"What do you mean, I am your best friend, of course I am yours-"

"No, you don't understand," you looked at him, "It's because you are not mine."

Wooyoung's heart lurched dangerously in his chest- was he hearing this right?

"You're not mine," you said, "And I feel like I'm gonna cry."

"No, no, don't cry," Wooyoung turned your face to make you look at him, "Don't cry. You know I am yours. Why would you cry?"

A tear escaped your eye and Wooyoung wiped it, hugging you as you muttered the same sentence again, and he knew if you weren't drunk, you'd feel his heart beating so loudly.

Wooyoung made you get in bed with him, pushing your hair out of your face, worried at the look you had in your eyes.

"Do you want me to be yours?"

You weren't sure if you were hearing it right- you were very, very drunk, and you knew that you would have a good reason to cry tomorrow. You were walking on very dangerous lines.

But Wooyoung didn't wait for a verbal answer- he knew now. The look in your eyes was enough. He kissed your forehead, locking eyes with you.

"I'm already yours," he assured you, but you shook your head, and he cupped your face to make you look at him.

"You don't understand. I'm already yours. You just don't know that yet."

You nodded, confused, burying your face in his chest as sleep came like a wave.

-----------------

"Don't touch me."

"It's almost afternoon!" Wooyoung tried snatching the covers from you, "You're wasting our Saturday!"

"Go away!" You practically growled.

There were a number of reasons you didn't want to wake up, and your hangover was the last reason.

You recalled last night perfectly well, and you felt humiliated and confused. And with Wooyoung acting like nothing happened...

You weren't sure what he meant by that:

"You don't understand. I'm already yours. You just don't know that yet."

"I made hangover soup for you," Wooyoung said, sitting beside you, "Come on, don't be a brat and get up."

You sighed- you knew Wooyoung was going to keep pestering you until you were sitting in front of him with the soup in your hands-

Which you now were.

"You're such a light drinker," Wooyoung laughed at you, and you wanted to glare at him but you couldn't meet his eyes right yet, "It's no fun drinking with you guys!"

"I told you it was a bad idea..."

"Ah, it's okay, don't cry again," Wooyoung teased, and now you did glare at him.

"Anyways," Wooyoung waved a hand in dismissal, "What are we doing today?"

So you thought Wooyoung hadn't taken your words seriously, which was how you distracted yourself, planning to do grocery with him and fulfil his wish of going clubbing that night.

"I need to look hot," you said, entering your home with shopping bags in both of your hands, "And so do you. So let's dump this for now and get ready."

You let Wooyoung pick your outfit- a black dress that hugged your figure, paired with heeled boots, and you went that extra measure to wear silver hoops, put on some lipstick and eyeliner, and style your hair-

"Maybe you should change that outfit," Wooyoung said, "You look more hot than should be acceptable."

"Shut up," you said, groaning, because when he casually said these words, it didn't help you. At all.

You styled Wooyoung's hair and he came out after changing, and you scanned him.

"Are you going out like... this?" You asked, pointing at the one too many buttons undone.

"Of course, I have to look sexy," he grinned, and you rolled your eyes, trying not to drool at how well built he was, and you both finally got in the taxi to the club.

"So have you ever been here?"

"Only once with friends," you admitted, "Which is why you won't ditch me until I find a good guy."

"Good luck with that," he said sarcastically, the both of you entering, and you were immediately overwhelmed by all the crowd and loud music, instinctively clinging to Wooyoung's arms.

"It sure is different here," Wooyoung looked around, "What are we doing here again?"

"It was your idea," you glared at him, "So come on. Let's get a drink, then look around, maybe dance, maybe find someone..."

Wooyoung laughed at how your voice became small at the last part, "Don't worry, I'm going home tonight. Unless you don't come home, I'm not going either."

"You don't have to worry about me," you said, though it felt like a stab to your heart, "You can do whatever."

"But I'm yours," Wooyoung whispered in your ear, and you gasped.

He hadn't forgotten, it seemed. And he was going to tease you about it.

"I was drunk," you sneered at him, dragging him to the bar, "You shut up while I get my drink."

"Do you know why you're a 99 to me too?" Wooyoung asked, a devilish smirk on his face, and you put your hands to your ears, having had enough.

He had no idea how you felt, did he?

"It's because you are not mine."

"Jung Wooyoung, you absolute brat-"

You couldn't help but laugh at how he was grinning, your cheeks flushed, "I'm gonna kill you if you mention this again. I was drunk, okay?"

"But what did you mean?"

"What did you mean, huh?" You turned, your eyes full of challenge, and that shut Wooyoung up, "What did you mean, when you said I was already yours but I didn't know it yet?"

"...I-"

"Never mind, I don't want to hear it," you downed another drink, "I'm going to the dance floor. Are you gonna shut up and accompany me?"

"Okay ma'am," Wooyoung shook his head, smiling, "Whatever you say."

"Wait a minute," you said, buttoning one of his one-too-many undone buttons, making him laugh.

"All good."

It wasn't the first time the two of you were dancing with each other in a club- you both would always stick together until someone caught your eye. But this time...

Something was different and none of you could deny it.

It was the way you weren't eyeing other people but absorbed in your own little world, the two of you only looking at each other as you danced, your hands on his shoulders and his at your waist.

"You're quiet today," you finally said.

Wooyoung didn't answer, only continued slowly dancing with you, and you couldn't take it anymore- you couldn't match his strong gaze anymore. You looked around, trying to find someone who was maybe interested in you-

"Let's just dance together," Wooyoung's voice was low, "Let's not meet someone new tonight."

You scanned Wooyoung's face, "Are you feeling alright?"

Wooyoung laughed, "I'm fine. I just don't feel like meeting someone new tonight."

"But it was your idea in the first place-"

"Saturday is all about us, remember?" Wooyoung said, and you shook your head at him.

"As if that would stop you-"

Wooyoung brought you closer, your grip on his shoulder tightening in reflex.

"Just shut up and dance with me tonight," Wooyoung whispered in your ear, and you gulped, not knowing why Wooyoung was suddenly insisting on this, but not complaining either.

You did notice how his eyes never left yours the entire night.

You also noticed how his hands would tighten ever so slightly at your waist.

And when the music changed to something fast, you were relieved that you would no longer be dangerously close to him. Putting your feelings aside, you grinned at Wooyoung as the both of you started to dance along to the beat.

Wooyoung was really good at random dances, and he had always taught you the basics and made you dance with him often, which was why you could match his energy. It was fun to dance freely with him, an occasional twirl, occasional dip, and you really felt light after that.

Making fun of the people who gave up on dancing and watched you both instead, you both finally got home, you immediately ditching your boots and sitting on the couch, rubbing your feet while Wooyoung grabbed water for both of you.

"Fun night," you said, "You didn't have to keep me company the whole time, Wooyoung. I admit I'm bad at instantly connecting with someone, but you wasting your opportunity makes me feel bad."

"If I wanted to, I would have ditched you," Wooyoung simply said, "I really didn't want to. I wanted tonight to be about us."

"If you say so," you drank from your glass, trying not to read too much into whatever he said, getting up to change and telling him you were going to catch up on your work-

Because you really felt overwhelmed by the way Wooyoung had looked at you the whole night, and you needed space.

And Wooyoung knew that too, letting you have some time to clear your head.

-----------------

"That is one hot guy."

Wooyoung immediately slid his chair towards you, peeking at your phone while you zoomed in on the picture your colleague Eunbi had sent, trying to set you up for a blind date.

You really needed a distraction, especially when Wooyoung was this close to you, practically breathing down your neck as he slid one hand to zoom out at the picture and take a look at their face.

"Who's that?"

You slid away from him, pushing his chair back to his desk, "Remember Eunbi? You met her last time? It's her friend, she's been trying to set me up with him for quite a while now. She's always talking about him to me."

"Why doesn't she date him then?" Wooyoung asked casually, shifting his focus back on his screen.

"She's already in a relationship, but she told me he's a great guy. Maybe I should go on a date with him, what do you say?"

"I don't know... maybe just get to know him in a casual sitting- like parties, first, before going alone..."

"It's called a blind date, Woo," you said, "Should I set you up with someone too?"

"Nah, I'm good... for now," he simply said, not taking his eyes off the screen- which, from him, was abnormal behaviour.

"You sure?"

"Yes," he said, and this time you slid your chair closer to him.

"Are you sad that I'll find someone and poor Wooyoung would be all alone-"

"Hey!" Wooyoung cringed back, the two of you laughing, "I don't care, do whatever, just don't tell me the details!"

You shook your head at him, wondering why he was acting so weird at the mention of you going on a date- he was usually making fun of you instead, giving you tips, but this time...

Something had changed.

Should you address it? You wondered as you focused on your work, absently typing, stopping in the middle of it altogether.

You glanced at Wooyoung. He, too, was zoning out.

Quite unlike him.

"Are you okay?" You asked, and Wooyoung came out of his trance, rubbing his face.

"Just tired," he said, and you got up, telling him you'd make some coffee for the both of you.

You came in with the mugs, stopping midway when you saw him slumped back on his chair, rubbing his temples. You pursed your lips, setting the mugs on the table and massaging his temples, his eyes shut.

"I don't like it when you get tired," you said, "You become too quiet. I don't like it when you become quiet."

"Why?"

"I like it better when you're smiling and yapping," you laughed, making him smile as well, "Drink your coffee first, then finish work and get some sleep. Recharge yourself."

"Okay, I will," he promised, and you kissed his forehead, surprising him because you usually weren't the one initiating hugs or kisses. Usually it was Wooyoung randomly surprising you with one.

"I like it though," he said as you sat in your chair, sipping on his coffee, and you looked at him in question.

"I like it when you hug or kiss me first. It recharges me."

"Shut up," you groaned as he smirked, hiding your face because you were positive it was red now.

This side of you- you blushing over something he said or did- it was new to Wooyoung, and he wanted to see more of it.

He really, really did not want you to go on that date.

----------------

"How do I look?"

"Like you're trying too hard."

"Wooyoung, I literally only wore better clothes and combed my hair."

"You're trying too hard."

"Whatever," you shook your head at him, wearing heels, and he raised a brow.

"See? You're wearing heels! You are trying too hard!"

"And why shouldn't I?" You put your hands on your hips, "I'm going on a date, Wooyoung, I have to put some effort."

"Ah, I don't know, just don't make me cringe," he shook his hands in front of you and you ignored him, grabbing your purse.

"See you later."

As you sat in the taxi, you were positive Wooyoung was jealous. And you couldn't help but smile at that- you still weren't sure what he wanted, and you were too afraid to take the first step. So you had to distract yourself.

Because there was still a possibility that Wooyoung was only being himself, that he had no ulterior motive, that his jealousy was simply because he'd be single and you'd rub it in his face- just like he would rub it on your face when he wasn't. It was just how it went between you two.

But... there was a slight chance that Wooyoung was finally looking at you from a new perspective, looking at you as a romantic interest rather than his childhood best friend. And you... just the thought of it made your heart ache and knees go weak, which was why you didn't really want to go there.

So you went on your date and actually had a good time. His name was Yeonjun and you got along with him quite well, just because he was funny and really paid attention when you talked. And he was definitely attractive- not just because of his looks, but because of his personality too.

Which was why Wooyoung was acting quite grumpy as you told him what you talked about, how he treated you (quite a gentleman), how he was hot-

"Can you stop calling him hot every two seconds!"

You laughed out loud- you were, of course, only doing it to rile Wooyoung up.

"Was he as good as I am to you?"

"What?" You looked at Wooyoung.

"If he doesn't treat you like I do, he isn't good enough."

"And by that," you began, "You mean making me pay for your food every chance you get, teasing me 24/7, being a parasite-"

Wooyoung burst out laughing, "I mean... taking care of you. Knowing when you are tired-"

"Do you really know when I'm tired? Because I am quite tired of you-"

"Listen," Wooyoung shifted on the couch, facing you, taking one of your hands and caressing it, "If he doesn't care for you like I do... if he doesn't think you're the most important thing in his life, if he doesn't know you inside out, if he doesn't love you like I do..."

You were holding your breath.

Wooyoung glanced at you- your face was expressionless and Wooyoung, only he knew that it meant that you were confused or nervous.

Was he willing to take the risk now? Was he willing to place bets-

"Why do you need someone else when you have me?"

"Wooyoung," you began, unsure how to respond, "I... I don't understand what you're getting at-"

"Look me in the eyes and tell me you don't know what I'm getting at."

But you couldn't- you were far too overwhelmed. You had never thought there was a possibility that Wooyoung could reciprocate your feelings- you had only imagined, it had only been your wildest dreams. And now-

"I'm gonna get some water," you managed to say, trying to get up but Wooyoung wasn't having it- he didn't release your hand, making you drop back on the couch when you tried getting up, leaning forward and taking your other hand too, making you face him.

"You know. I told you I am yours. I'm only gonna ask this once. Tell me you don't love me the way I do."

"What do you mean?"

Wooyoung leaned in further, making you instinctively pull back, but he let go of your hand only to cup your face, locking your eyes with his.

"Tell me you don't want this."

He was caressing your cheek, all too aware of your wildly beating heart, his eyes falling down to your lips as he licked his, and you were about to fall flat backwards so your hand went to grip his shoulder, and he shifted back so you were half on top of him, tucking stray hair behind.

"You just have to say no, and I'll stop," he whispered, his lips meeting your jaw, planting a seductive kiss and you had to hold back your moan, because-

Was this really happening?

"Tell me you don't like this," he said, his lips trailing down your neck, almost smirking when you shifted to give him a better angle while you tried to think-

But you couldn't think.

You had no control.

"Tell me you're not mine."

You took a deep breath, shutting your eyes close for a second and then almost growling when his nose brushed against yours and you- you took the first step and kissed him.

And it was inexplainable. As soon as your lips met, he was kissing you back, his hands snaking behind your neck, gripping on your hair as he angled you better, your own hands cupping his face, and you had to break apart because you couldn't breathe, not because you were out of breath but because you couldn't believe this was finally, finally happening.

You scanned his face for any sort of surprise but there was none, his eyes were glazed as he tucked your hair behind, holding your face with one hand and bringing you back again.

You were fisting his shirt in your hands as he kissed you, slow and passionate, taking his sweet time and you let him. You let him run his hands down your neck, slide down your arm only to hold your waist and he pushed you back on the couch, now on top of you.

He scanned your face again, for any sign of discomfort, satisfied to see your face flush. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this."

And that sentence made you bite your lip and shut your eyes, trying to stifle your smile but failing, ending up laughing because this was unreal.

Wooyoung kissed your forehead, "You have no idea how much I love you."

Before you could respond, he was kissing you again, and you wanted to tell him that you have probably loved him longer, that you were beyond relieved that he felt the same. You hoped your feelings conveyed as you kissed him back, but he broke the kiss, breathing heavily.

"Say something."

You pursed your lips, breaking eye contact as you smiled because all of this was too much and you were basically speechless. And Wooyoung found it quite amusing.

"Shut up."

Wooyoung laughed out loud, "I didn't even say anything!"

"I can hear your smirk."

Wooyoung groaned, kissing your cheek, "Come on, say something, you're making me anxious."

You sighed, figuring now or never as you got up, sitting in front of him, and the way he was smiling was too endearing.

"Jung Wooyoung, you brat," you shook your head, "How long have you felt like this?"

"Long enough."

"That's not the correct answer."

"Probably when we finally parted ways for college and I missed you like hell and none of the girls I was with made me feel anything because all I could think about was you."

You smirked- you felt like you've won in life. "I... I don't have anything to say, except that... I love you, and you know that. You know that already, don't you?"

"I think I did," Wooyoung played with your hair absently, "I was just... scared that I was wrong."

"And I was scared that I'd ruin what we had, and I still am," you admitted, "Because... I can't lose you. Not even because we get into a relationship and things don't work out. I can't lose you, Wooyoung. So what are we gonna do?"

"I can't lose you either, and I promise you if things... if this stuff doesn't work out, we'll break it up on a good note. We'll still stay friends, like we always had. Maybe it will be difficult, but... I just can't sit still and do nothing while you go ahead and date other people-"

"So you were jealous."

"Very," Wooyoung grinned and you wrapped your arms around him, hugging him, burying your nose in the crook of his neck.

Your safe place.

Wooyoung held you tight, kissing your head. "You wanna take this to bed?"

You slapped his arm and he laughed, getting up and practically throwing you on bed, taking off his upper and crawling in, getting on top of you and kissing you like his life depended on it, his hands all over your body, yours going from cupping his face to running through his hair and back, and when he finally did break the kiss, breathless, he whispered in your ear:

"I'm gonna be kissing you all night tonight. Don't even think about sleeping."

You were positive you were going to die the way your heart lurched at his words.

But you let him. You let him kiss you, tangled in each other's arms, tired and slow kisses on your face, on your lips after the long day you've both had. You fell asleep in his arms, the most comfortable you'd felt in a while.

------------------

"Just because we're... a thing, Jung Wooyoung, doesn't mean you get a free pass at being clingy now."

"Oh, come on," Wooyoung whined, dragging you back in his lap as you used your phone to send an important message about work to your colleagues, trying not to let him distract you.

"Just give me a minute," you basically ignored him nibbling at your ear as you typed, hissing at him once to make him stop, feeling his chest shake with laughter.

"Alright, I'm done," you threw your phone away, "What do you want?"

"You," he whispered, and you pretended to throw up.

"Just because we kissed," you began, wriggling away from him, "doesn't mean you can say stuff like that! It's too sudden."

"Not like you haven't been fantasizing about me all this time-"

You grabbed the nearest thing- a cushion, throwing it at him with all your force, making him practically howl with laughter.

"I could say the same!" You shouted, "Not at you practically begging to live with me so you could... do things to me!"

He laughed louder at that, making you mutter that you were going to work, shutting the door and smiling unconsciously.

It had been three days since your new relationship with Wooyoung began. You'd been a bit shy the first day, but Wooyoung made sure not to get too physical- so you could get used to it.

The second day, you'd been too busy all day, having to go to the office and returning tired, collapsing straight on bed, Wooyoung force-feeding you dinner and letting you sleep.

And today... he was back to being normal.

You were glad nothing had changed between you two- he was still the same Wooyoung, except now extra shameless with his display of affections, but you weren't complaining.

You had just finished your work when he burst in, right on cue. "It's Friday night, let's go out for dinner."

"Where do you wanna go? I'm craving chicken."

"Done," he said, "Come on, let's get ready."

You got up, stretching and following him to your room, Wooyoung going in to change while you applied some makeup, wondering what you should do with your hair.

"Let me," Wooyoung said, grabbing a hair tie and combing your hair gently, tying your hair in a half-ponytail, doing the same with his own hair.

"Now we match."

You rolled your eyes, smiling as you went in to change, going that extra mile and wearing a denim skirt paired with a plain black T shirt with knee length boots, finishing the look with denim jacket. As soon as you came out, Wooyoung had his eyes running all over you, nodding.

"You look great."

"Thank you and stop looking at me like I'm your meal," you said, making him laugh and give you a back hug because 'you were too cute to resist'.

However, Wooyoung was soon regretting taking you out to dinner because Yeonjun, of all the people in this world, was in the same restaurant as you both, with his co-workers.

"It's a small world," you smiled, deciding to introduce Wooyoung to him, "This is Wooyoung, my best friend and... boyfriend?"

"What's with the question!" Wooyoung laughed, "Nice to meet you. We're childhood friends, the other part happened like two days ago."

"Ah," Yeonjun gave you a knowing look, "So this is the guy."

"This is him," you smiled shyly. You had, of course, at the end of your date told Yeonjun that you two really hit it off which was surprising, but you were interested in someone else and you couldn't string him along.

Yeonjun, thankfully, understood, saying they could still be friends because he enjoyed your company, no hard feelings.

However, Wooyoung here was not having any of that, especially when food finally arrived and you noticed that instead of focusing on his food or you, Wooyoung was busy glaring holes at Yeonjun, who thankfully had his back towards the two of you.

"Are you gonna eat?"

"I am," he said, nibbling on his chicken leg.

"Can you stop eye-murdering Yeonjun? And don't tell me that's not what you're doing right now."

Wooyoung smiled at that, sighing. "I just... he might like you still."

"So? I like you. Nothing can change that, you know that, right?"

Satisfied, Wooyoung pinched your nose lovingly, resuming eating like normal, and you stifled your smile because jealous Wooyoung was quite a sight.

He looked hot when jealous.

"What's got you trying not to smile?"

"I'll tell you when we get home," you simply said, and Wooyoung smirked because he was sure he was right about this.

And he was.

Because when you got home and told him you thought that jealous Wooyoung was one hot Wooyoung, he picked you up, making you straddle his waist as he kissed you, dropping you on the couch.

"Gosh, stop being so dramatic," you flushed at the way he was looking at you.

"I'm allowed to be dramatic tonight."

"Why?"

"Look at the time," he said, "It's Saturday."

"And?"

"Saturday is all about us."

You bit your lip, because you had quite some ideas for tonight too.

And Wooyoung was quite surprised when you got up and made him come to bed with you, shrugged off your jacket and took off his, kissing him with a pressure that made him lean back and back until you were on top of him, and you broke the kiss, both of you flushed.

You took your time scanning his face, smirking at the sight of him being a little shy because Wooyoung and shy? Never. You ran your hands livingly through his hair, kissing his temple, peppering kisses all over his face, muttering how much you loved the angles of his face, brushing your thumb across his plump lips and kissing him so slowly that he moaned.

And then you were kissing his jaw, his neck, and you took off his shirt, muttering curse words because he was built so well, and you ran your hands over his chiseled body as you kissed his lips, and he had enough.

He took off your shirt, leaving you in your black bra, taking a few seconds to scan your body with a satisfied smirk, pushing you down and getting on top of you and kissing you like a man deprived, and you weren't sure you would be able to stop tonight, especially when he grinded on you and made you moan quite loudly.

"Never thought I'd hear these sounds from your mouth."

"You..." you laughed, shaking your head and smirking, "My turn."

Wooyoung gladly let you top him, open mouthed kisses exchanged as you grinded on him, and you unhooked his belt, sliding it off, and Wooyoung broke the kiss to look at you.

"We can take it slow if you want."

"Now where would the fun in that be?" You grinned, and Wooyoung put his head back as he sighed, because gosh, he could take you right then and there.

"I mean," you ran a finger down his chest, "We sleep in the same bed, Wooyoung, it's gonna happen eventually."

"You're teasing me, right?"

"Am I?" you smirked, and Wooyoung shook his head, his eyes visibly changing as he changed positions, trailing kisses down your neck, sliding your skirt down in the process, running his hands down your thigh excruciatingly slowly.

"Can you stop that," you groaned, an evil smirk plastered on his face.

"We have all night," Wooyoung breathed against your ear, "And I am going to make the most of it. As far as you allow me."

You wrapped your arms around him, muttering to let him hug you for a minute, and he shifted to a sitting position, letting you hug him, skin to skin, your legs wrapped around his waist.

"I love you so much, Wooyoung," you whispered in his ear, making him shiver, his heart suddenly full, "So much that it makes me cry, because it's overwhelming."

Wooyoung unraveled his arms from around you, making you face him, spotting your tear glazed eyes, smiling at the sight.

"What am I gonna do with you?" He laughed, kissing your forehead, "I love you too, more than you could ever imagine."

You smiled, and he whispered in your ear, "I am yours, and you are mine. You had me from the very beginning, dear."

You sighed, "You had me too. I've been yours all along."

"I want to ruin you," Wooyoung whispered in your ear, "So bad. I want you so bad."

You kissed his neck, still wrapped around him, nibbling on his sweet spot, "We have all night."

Which was how Wooyoung ended up on top of you once again, the plans to ruin you evident in his eyes as he kissed every inch of you, had you writhing in seconds when his hand went between your thighs even with the garment, just the look he gave you after taking it a step further to make sure you were okay had you moaning, and by the time dawn approached, he had you, completely.

"Gosh," you muttered lazily, spent from the amount of times he made you reach your high tonight, "How am I gonna live with you if I have to sleep with you everyday?"

"How am I gonna live with you, when you're such a..."

"Say it."

Wooyoung laughed, clearly tired too, "You're such a slut in bed."

You grinned, satisfied because you had surprised him quite a few times tonight, taking him quite well for a first time, and he had never imagined you'd be this good in bed.

"I'm moving out tomorrow," Wooyoung laughed at the evil smirk you had on your face, "You're gonna be the death of me, woman."

"You know you love it," you said, kissing him softly, "I'll be gentle next time."

"That's what I should be saying to you," he laughed, "Let's be gentle next time."

But the look the two of you shared said enough. And you joined your forehead with his, kissing his nose.

"I'm glad you moved in with me."

"Wasn't I a parasite just a few hours ago?"

"I like it," you grinned, and he wrapped his arms around you tighter, telling you to shut up and sleep, smiles plastered on both of your faces.

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