nextchae

[nextchae]

between the lines — choi yeonjun

word count: 9.8k

pairing: yeonjun x fem!reader

synopsis: Y/N and Yeonjun, two close friends who live together as roommates in the city, have a close friends with benefits/no-strings-attached relationship. As they navigate their individual careers—Y/N as a songwriter and Yeonjun as a choreographer—they struggle with unspoken feelings that simmer beneath the surface.

genre: friends with benefits to lovers, slight angst, miscommunication trope, light smut

playlist: add me <3

The soft strum of guitar strings fills the dimly lit living room, the melody threading through the quiet apartment like a whisper. You sit on the worn couch, your notebook balanced on your knee, as you search for the right words. The familiar comfort of the space surrounds you—walls decorated with concert posters, a few scattered vinyl records, and the faint scent of coffee lingering in the air. It’s a place you’ve grown to call home, even if it started as just a convenience.

Two years. That’s how long it’s been since you and Yeonjun decided to split the rent on this place. What began as a practical solution—a way to save money while chasing your dreams in the city—soon turned into something more. The late-night talks, the shared meals, and the quiet moments between the rush of your lives somehow blurred the lines. You’re not quite sure when the shift happened, when friendship evolved into something more complicated, something without ties or titles. 

You moved to the city almost three years ago, fresh out of college and full of dreams of making it big as a songwriter. You’d always had a way with words, a knack for turning feelings into lyrics that resonated with people. Growing up, you’d spent hours writing songs in your bedroom, dreaming of the day when someone famous might sing them. But it wasn’t until you landed an internship at a small music label during your last year of college that you realized this could be more than just a dream.

The city was everything you’d hoped for—fast-paced, full of opportunities, and alive with the energy of people chasing their own dreams. You threw yourself into your work, writing day and night, determined to prove yourself. It wasn’t easy, and there were times when you wondered if you’d made the right choice, but you kept pushing forward. Music was your lifeline, your way of making sense of the world, and you couldn’t imagine doing anything else.

You met Yeonjun about a year after moving here. It was during one of those early-morning sessions at the company, both of you exhausted but still driven to keep working. You’d bonded over coffee and shared frustrations, finding comfort in each other’s company in a world that could often feel isolating. He’d been working as a choreographer for a few years by then, having moved to the city not long before you.

Yeonjun’s story is different from yours, but in some ways, it’s the same. He grew up in a small town, the kind where everyone knows each other, and where being different wasn’t always accepted. He’d always been drawn to dance, ever since he was a kid, but it wasn’t until he saw a hip-hop performance on TV that he realized it was something he could actually do. He taught himself at first, practicing in his room for hours until he could mimic the moves perfectly. But it wasn’t just about copying what he saw—he wanted to create something of his own, to express himself in a way that words never could.

After high school, he knew he had to leave if he wanted to pursue dance seriously. The city was the obvious choice, a place where he could be anonymous and free to chase his dreams without the weight of small-town expectations. It was hard at first—finding gigs, making a name for himself—but Yeonjun had always been determined. He took whatever jobs he could get, building a portfolio, until finally, he landed a position as a choreographer at the company where you both now work.

Yeonjun pours himself into his work in a way that’s both admirable and heartbreaking. He’s always been the type to push himself to the brink, to give everything he has to his art, even if it leaves him drained. It’s something you recognize in yourself, that same drive to create, to pour your heart and soul into your work until there’s nothing left. But where you find comfort in words, Yeonjun finds it in movement, in the physicality of dance. It’s his way of processing the world, of dealing with the things he can’t say out loud.

You pause, tapping the pen against your chin, lost in thought. The song you’re working on is different from the others. The lyrics feel too close to home, too revealing. You’ve always been good at keeping things casual, especially with Yeonjun, but this song? It’s like a confession you’re not ready to make.

The front door creaks open, and you look up to see Yeonjun entering, his shoulders slightly slouched, the exhaustion from hours of rehearsal evident in his posture. His hair is tousled, and there’s a light sheen of sweat on his skin, a testament to his dedication. He’s always been passionate about his work, throwing himself into every dance like it’s his last. It’s something you admire about him—his unwavering commitment to his craft, the way he’s able to express emotions through movement that you sometimes struggle to put into words.

“Long day?” you ask, setting the notebook aside as he drops his bag by the door and kicks off his shoes.

“Yeah,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair. “The new routine is killing me. But I think it’s finally coming together.”

You nod, watching him move across the room to the kitchen. He grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and takes a long drink before leaning against the counter, his gaze flickering to your notebook. “Still working on that song?”

“Trying to,” you admit, your voice tinged with frustration. “It’s not coming out the way I want it to.”

He raises an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “Can I hear it?”

You hesitate, your fingers brushing over the pages as if they might burn you. It’s not that you don’t trust Yeonjun; it’s just that this song feels too personal, too risky. But then again, he’s always been the one you could show your rough drafts to, the one who gets it without you having to explain. 

“Maybe later,” you say, offering a small smile to soften the refusal. He doesn’t push, just nods and crosses the room to sit beside you on the couch. The proximity is familiar, comforting in a way that you’ve grown used to but never quite gotten over.

Yeonjun stretches out, his arm resting on the back of the couch behind you, close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from his skin. It’s moments like these, when the world outside fades away, that you remember why this whole thing started. The physical connection, the ease of it—it’s always been so simple with him. No complications, no promises, just an understanding between two people who found something they both needed. 

“How was your day?” he asks, his voice low, as if to match the quiet of the room.

You shrug, leaning back against the cushions. “Just the usual. Worked on some lyrics, played around with a few melodies. Nothing groundbreaking.”

He smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling in that way that makes you wonder if he’s amused or just genuinely happy to be here with you. “You always say that, and then you come up with something amazing.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the small laugh that escapes you. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Choi.”

“Is that so?” His hand slides down from the back of the couch to rest lightly on your shoulder, a touch that’s more familiar than you’d care to admit. It’s not meant to be anything more than a casual gesture, but there’s a weight to it that neither of you acknowledge. 

You turn your head to look at him, your eyes meeting his. For a moment, the room feels smaller, the air thicker. You’ve had moments like this before—moments where you could swear there’s something unspoken between you, something more than just friendship or convenience. But just as quickly as it comes, the moment passes, and you’re left with the same comfortable silence that’s defined your relationship for so long.

“You hungry?” he asks, breaking the tension as he stands up and heads to the kitchen again. “I can make us something to eat.”

“Yeah, sure,” you reply, grateful for the distraction. You watch him move around the kitchen, the easy familiarity of it all reminding you of why this arrangement has worked so well for so long. 

It’s easy to fall into routine with Yeonjun. Easy to keep things as they are, without complicating them with feelings you’re not ready to confront. You’re close, closer than you’ve been with anyone else in a long time, but there’s a line you’ve both drawn that neither of you have dared to cross. At least, not yet.

But as you sit there, your notebook still open beside you, you can’t help but wonder how long you can keep pretending that what you have is enough. That the song you’re writing isn’t about him. That the feelings you’ve buried won’t eventually surface, demanding to be acknowledged.

You glance at Yeonjun, who’s now humming a tune as he chops vegetables, and you feel that familiar pang of uncertainty. He’s your friend, your roommate, your…whatever this is. But more than that, he’s become someone you can’t imagine your life without.

And that’s what scares you the most.

As the scent of food begins to fill the apartment, you pick up your pen and return to the lyrics, hoping that somehow, the right words will find you. But deep down, you know that this song—like everything else between you and Yeonjun—won’t be finished until you’re ready to face what’s really there.

Until then, you’ll keep writing, keep playing, and keep pretending that the notes between the lines don’t mean anything more than they should.

But you know better. And so does he.

Yeonjun's humming fills the small kitchen as he moves with practiced ease, his hands skillfully chopping vegetables while he sways to a beat only he can hear. You watch him from your spot on the couch, momentarily distracted from your lyrics. There's something calming about the way he moves, a rhythm in everything he does that makes you think he was born to dance.

You close your notebook and set it aside, deciding to give up on the song for now. The smell of sizzling garlic and onions begins to fill the air, making your stomach grow in anticipation. Yeonjun always jokes that he's not much of a cook, but you know better. He's not a gourmet chef, but there's something about the way he prepares a simple meal that makes it taste like home.

"Smells good," you say as you walk over to the kitchen, leaning against the counter beside him.

"Thanks," he replies, flashing you a grin.

"It'll be ready in a few minutes."

You nod, letting the silence between you stretch out comfortably. Moments like this are what you've grown to cherish-simple, unassuming, and yet filled with a sense of closeness that you don't often find elsewhere. It's not just about the physical connection; it's the ease of being in each other's company without the need for words.

When the food is ready, you both settle on the couch with plates in hand, the TV on but more for background noise than anything else. The meal is simple stir-fried vegetables with rice, but it's exactly what you need after a long day.

"You know," Yeonjun starts, his voice breaking through the quiet, "we should do this more often."

You glance at him, curious. "Do what?"

"Have dinner together. Talk. Just...hang out without any expectations."

You raise an eyebrow, a teasing smile playing on your lips. "Are you saying our usual arrangement has expectations?"

He chuckles, shaking his head. "You know what I mean. We're always so busy, and when we're not, well..." He trails off, but the implication is clear.

When you're not busy, you're usually in bed together, caught up in something that's more physical than anything else.

"Yeah," you admit softly, picking at your food. "I guess we could use more nights like this."

The conversation lulls after that, but it's not uncomfortable. Instead, it feels like something unspoken has settled between you, something that's been lingering for a while now. You finish eating and place your plate on the coffee table, leaning back against the couch with a contented sigh.

Yeonjun follows suit, setting his plate aside before stretching out beside you.

His arm brushes against yours, and though it's a simple touch, you feel a spark that you're not entirely sure how to ignore. You shift slightly, trying to create some space, but he's already there, his presence warm and familiar.

You've been here before-curled up on this couch, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from his body, the line between friendship and something more always blurred. But tonight, it feels different. There's an awareness in the air, a tension that neither of you seems willing to address.

Yeonjun's arm drapes over the back of the couch, his fingers brushing lightly against your shoulder. It's a touch that could be innocent, but the way your heart speeds up tells you otherwise. You glance at him, and he meets your gaze, his expression unreadable but intense.

"You're tense," he murmurs, his voice low, the words almost lost in the hum of the TV.

You force a smile, trying to downplay the sudden rush of nerves. "Just tired, I guess."

He doesn't reply, but his hand moves, his fingers tracing a light pattern along your shoulder, down your arm. It's such a simple touch, yet it sends a shiver through you, one that you try and fail — to hide. Your body reacts instinctively, leaning into his touch, your breath hitching slightly as his hand moves lower, grazing the side of your waist.

"Yeonjun.." You say his name softly, a warning that's half-hearted at best.

You've been here so many times before, and you know where this is heading, but something about tonight feels different.

There's an undercurrent of something more, something that makes your heart race in a way that it hasn't before.

"Hmm?" His hand pauses, his fingers resting lightly on your side, but he doesn't pull away. Instead, he shifts closer, his knee brushing against yours as he turns to face you. "Is this okay?"

The question hangs in the air, loaded with implications that neither of you dares to voice. It's not like he's never touched you like this before-in fact, you're all too familiar with the way his hands feel against your skin. But tonight, there's a hesitation in his voice, as if he's asking for something more than just permission to touch you.

You swallow, your mouth suddenly dry, as you nod. "Yeah, it's... it's fine."

He takes your word for it, his hand resuming its slow, deliberate path along your side. The sensation is maddeningly gentle, his fingertips barely grazing your skin, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. You feel the tension in your body ratchet up a notch, every nerve ending on high alert as he continues to explore.

Your own hand, almost as if acting on its own, moves to rest on his thigh, your fingers curling into the fabric of his sweatpants. It's a bold move, one that you might not have made if you weren't already teetering on the edge, but there's something about the way he's looking at you, something in his eyes that pulls you in, making it impossible to resist.

His breath hitches slightly at your touch, his eyes darkening as he shifts even closer, his body now pressed against yours. The hand on your waist tightens, pulling you toward him until there's no space left between you, his breath warm against your cheek.

"Y/N..." he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that sends a shiver down your spine. There's a question in the way he says your name, a plea that you're not sure you're ready to answer, but your body responds before your mind can catch up.

You lean into him, your lips brushing against his neck, the barest hint of a kiss, but it's enough to send a jolt of electricity through both of you. His hand slides lower, resting on your hip, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he pulls you onto his lap.

It's a familiar position, one you've found yourselves in more times than you can count, but tonight it feels different.

There's a desperation in the way he holds you, a need that's been simmering just below the surface for too long. You can feel it in the way his hands move over your body, in the way his breath quickens as your lips find their way to his jawline.

"Are we really doing this?" you whisper, your voice trembling with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty. You’re not sure why you even ask, you’ve been here so many times before, but something tonight feels different. Wrong.

He doesn't answer with words. Instead, his hand cups the back of your neck, pulling you in for a kiss that's as intense as it is unexpected. It's not the first time you've kissed him, but it feels like it might be the last time you can pretend this is just about physical need. There's something more behind the kiss, something that makes your heart race and your mind spin.

The kiss deepens, your hands tangling in his hair as you press closer, his body warm and solid beneath yours. His hands roam over your back, your waist, anywhere he can reach, and you find yourself responding in kind, your own hands exploring the familiar terrain of his body.

But as the kiss grows more heated, you realize that you're not just reacting to the physical sensation. There's an emotional undercurrent here, something that's been building for months, maybe even years, and now that it's finally bubbling to the surface, you're not sure how to handle it.

You pull back slightly, your breath coming in short gasps as you look into his eyes. There's a question in his gaze, one that mirrors your own uncertainty.

But there's also something else— something raw and unspoken that makes you want to throw caution to the wind. And for a moment, you're both frozen, caught in the limbo between friendship and something more, unsure of which way to go.

But then he's kissing you again, his lips urgent against yours, as if trying to drown out the uncertainty with the heat of the moment. And for now, you let him, because as much as you hate to admit it, you're not ready to face what this might really mean.

Not yet.

So you lose yourself in him, in the feel of his hands on your skin, in the way your bodies fit together like they were made for this. And you tell yourself that you'll figure it out later, that you can keep pretending a little while longer.

The sound of your footsteps echoes through the long, polished corridors of the company building as you make your way to the songwriting studios. The building is abuzz with activity, a hive of creativity where music is born, and you’ve spent countless hours here, pouring your heart into melodies and lyrics that others will one day sing.

Today, you’re scheduled to work with a team of producers and other songwriters on a new project, a high-profile debut that the company’s placing a lot of faith in. It’s a challenge, but one you’ve grown used to over the years. You’ve always thrived in environments where pressure and creativity intersect—where the need to deliver something extraordinary pushes you to your limits. But this morning, your mind isn’t fully on the task ahead. Instead, it keeps drifting back to last night, to the way Yeonjun’s touch lingered on your skin long after you’d untangled yourselves on the couch.

It’s always like this, the day after. A strange, awkward tension that hangs in the air between you, unspoken but undeniable. You’re close—closer than most friends—but there’s a fragility to your connection that neither of you seems willing to address. Last night’s kiss, the way he held you as if he was afraid you might slip away, only made things more complicated.

But that’s how it’s always been with Yeonjun. Complicated.

As you step into the studio, you push those thoughts aside, focusing on the task at hand. The room is already filled with the low hum of conversation, the team gathered around a table strewn with sheet music, laptops, and half-empty coffee cups. 

“Y/N! Right on time,” one of the producers, Sejin, greets you with a smile. He’s well respected in the industry, someone you’ve worked with before, and his easy-going nature helps put you at ease.

“Morning,” you reply, forcing a smile as you take a seat. “What are we working on today?”

“Just going over the latest drafts for the new group,” Sejin explains, handing you a stack of lyric sheets. “We’ve got a few solid tracks, but we’re still missing that one song to really set them apart.”

You nod, scanning the lyrics quickly before glancing up at the others around the table. They’re all talented in their own right, but you’ve always felt a bit like an outsider in these sessions. You’re used to writing alone, letting the words flow naturally without the constraints of collaboration. It’s not that you can’t work with others—it’s just that your process is different, more introspective, and sometimes that doesn’t mesh well with the fast-paced, team-oriented environment here.

Still, you dive into the work, offering suggestions, tweaking melodies, and trying to find that perfect line that will tie everything together. Hours pass in a blur of creativity, the familiar rush of crafting something new temporarily pushing aside the thoughts of Yeonjun and the tangled mess of feelings you’re trying to sort through.

But as the session winds down, you find yourself distracted once again, your mind wandering back to him. You can’t help but wonder how his day is going, if he’s still working on that new choreography he mentioned last night. You’ve always admired his dedication to his craft, the way he can lose himself in the rhythm, his body moving like it’s an extension of the music itself. It’s something you’ve never quite understood—how he can express so much through movement, while you rely on words to convey your emotions.

“Y/N?” Sejin’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts. “You with us?”

“Yeah, sorry,” you say quickly, shaking your head to clear it. “Just thinking about something.”

He gives you a knowing look but doesn’t press the issue. “Alright, let’s wrap it up for today. We’ll pick this up again tomorrow.”

You nod, gathering your things and heading for the door, but your thoughts are already elsewhere. As you step into the hallway, your feet seem to move on their own, leading you in the direction of the dance studios rather than the exit.

You tell yourself it’s just curiosity—just checking in to see how he’s doing—but deep down, you know it’s more than that. You want to see him, to feel that connection again, even if it’s tinged with the awkwardness that always seems to follow you both the day after.

The closer you get to the dance studios, the more you can hear the faint thump of bass reverberating through the walls, the rhythm quickening your pulse. You pause outside one of the rooms, peering through the small window in the door, and there he is—Yeonjun, completely lost in the music.

He’s dressed in loose sweatpants and a tank top, his skin glistening with sweat as he moves with an intensity that takes your breath away. His movements are sharp, precise, each one flowing into the next with a grace that seems almost effortless. But you know better. You know how hard he works, how much of himself he pours into every step, every beat.

You watch, captivated, as he goes through the routine over and over, his expression focused, his body pushing past the point of exhaustion. It’s mesmerizing, the way he moves—so different from the way you create. While you spend hours hunched over a notebook, searching for the right words, he’s here, expressing everything with the fluidity of his body, the music coursing through him like a second heartbeat.

And yet, for all your differences, there’s something that draws you to him, something that makes you want to understand him better, even if you’re not sure how.

Eventually, he spots you, his movements slowing as he catches his breath. He meets your gaze through the glass, and for a moment, neither of you moves. Then he raises a hand, beckoning you in, his expression softening into something you can’t quite read.

You push open the door and step inside, the sound of the music now louder, vibrating through your chest. The air is thick with the smell of sweat and the faint scent of his cologne, familiar and comforting.

“Hey,” he says, his voice hoarse from exertion. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Just finished up in the studio,” you reply, trying to keep your tone casual. “Thought I’d see how you were doing.”

He nods, grabbing a towel from the floor and wiping the sweat from his face. There’s a moment of silence, the kind that usually doesn’t exist between you, but today it feels heavier, weighted by everything left unsaid.

“How’s the choreography coming along?” you ask, breaking the silence.

He shrugs, a small, self-deprecating smile tugging at his lips. “It’s… getting there. Still needs some work.”

You nod, unsure of what to say next. Things are always a little awkward the day after, like you’re both trying to find your footing again, unsure of where you stand. You’re close, but not in the way most people would define it, and that makes everything more complicated.

“Do you want to see it?” he asks suddenly, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of hope and vulnerability that you’re not used to seeing from him.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” you reply, surprised at how much you mean it.

He nods again, then steps back to the center of the room, his focus shifting as the music starts up again. You move to the side, leaning against the mirrored wall as you watch him begin the routine from the top.

This time, you’re not just watching the choreography. You’re watching him—the way his body moves, the way he expresses emotions without a single word. There’s a passion in his movements, a dedication that you can’t help but admire. It’s so different from the way you create, but in a way, it’s the same. You both pour your hearts into your work, channeling your emotions into something that can be shared with others. 

But while you’ve always been careful to keep a certain distance from the songs you write, Yeonjun dives in headfirst, letting the music consume him. It’s one of the things that draws you to him, even as it scares you. You’re afraid of getting too close, of letting yourself feel too much, but Yeonjun? He’s not afraid of anything. At least, that’s how it seems.

As he finishes the routine, he turns to you, his chest rising and falling with labored breaths, a sheen of sweat making his skin glisten under the fluorescent lights. “What do you think?” he asks, his voice breathless but filled with a quiet intensity.

You take a moment to find your words, still processing everything you’ve just seen. “It’s incredible, Yeonjun. Really. The way you move… it’s like you’re telling a story with your body.”

He laughs softly, wiping his forehead with the towel again. “That’s the idea, I guess. Trying to say something without words.”

You nod, understanding more than you’d like to admit. It’s what you both do, in your own ways—expressing the things that are too difficult to say out loud.

The silence stretches between you again, but this time it’s different. There’s a sense of understanding, a shared recognition of what you’ve both just experienced. And yet, there’s still that underlying awkwardness, the unspoken tension that lingers from the night before.

“Thanks for coming by,” he says after a while, his voice softer, more subdued. “It means a lot.”

“Of course,” you reply, giving him a small smile. “I should probably get going, though. Got more work to do.”

“Yeah, same here,” he agrees, but neither of you moves.

You stand there for a moment longer, caught in the liminal space between what you are and what you could be, before finally turning to leave.

“Y/N,” he calls out just as you reach the door.

You pause, your hand hovering over the handle as you turn back to him. There’s something in his eyes, something vulnerable and raw, that makes your heart ache in a way you’re not sure how to deal with.

“See you tonight?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah,” you say softly, your chest tightening with the weight of what’s left unsaid. “See you tonight.”

The next few weeks pass in a blur of deadlines, rehearsals, and late-night studio sessions. The company is buzzing with the excitement of upcoming debuts, and both you and Yeonjun are caught in the whirlwind. You spend hours hunched over your notebook, scribbling lyrics in the margins of sheet music, tweaking melodies until they’re just right. Meanwhile, Yeonjun is locked in the dance studio, pushing his body to its limits as he fine-tunes his choreography, each movement meticulously crafted to tell the story he’s been envisioning.

You see less and less of him during the day, your schedules barely overlapping. When you do cross paths, it’s usually in the early hours of the morning, when the world is quiet, and the company building is almost empty. You’ll find him in the kitchen, downing a glass of water after a long session, or he’ll find you sprawled on the couch, half-asleep with your notebook balanced precariously on your lap.

But despite the distance growing between you, the nights you do spend together seem to grow more intense. It’s as if the time apart makes the moments you have all the more precious, and when you finally fall into each other’s arms, it’s with a hunger that neither of you can quite explain. You’ll reach for him, or he’ll reach for you, and suddenly, you’re tangled up together, the world outside forgotten.

These nights are different from before. There’s a tenderness in the way he touches you now, a lingering softness that wasn’t there before. He kisses you like he’s trying to memorize every inch of you, his hands tracing patterns on your skin that leave you breathless. You find yourself reaching for him in the dark, needing the reassurance of his presence more than you’d like to admit.

But when the morning comes, the spell is broken. You both slip back into your respective roles, burying yourselves in your work, pretending that nothing has changed. Yet, you can’t shake the feeling that something has—that the lines between what you are and what you could be are beginning to blur.

But no matter how close you get, there’s always a part of you that holds back. You’re afraid to let yourself fall too hard, to risk the friendship you’ve built. And Yeonjun… well, he’s never been one to talk about his feelings. He’s always been the type to show rather than tell, to let his actions speak for him. But there are moments—brief, fleeting moments—when you catch a glimpse of something deeper in his eyes, something that makes your heart skip a beat.

It’s in the way he holds you a little tighter when you’re falling asleep, or the way his gaze lingers on you just a second too long when he thinks you’re not looking. It’s in the small, almost imperceptible shifts in his behavior, the way he’s always there when you need him, even if he doesn’t say much. You’re not sure what it means, or if it even means anything at all, but it’s enough to keep you hoping.

You can’t remember the last time you let yourself relax. Between the relentless grind of work and the complicated emotions swirling around Yeonjun, you’ve been wound so tight it feels like you might snap at any moment. So when Sejin, a fellow songwriter you’ve grown close to over the last few months, suggests a night out, you don’t hesitate.

“We deserve this,” Sejin says with a grin as you and a few others from your team gather at a bar downtown. It’s one of those places that feels both cozy and chaotic, dimly lit with just the right amount of noise to drown out any lingering stress. You order a round of drinks, clinking glasses as laughter and conversation fill the space around you.

At first, it’s easy to fall into the rhythm of the night. You chat with your coworkers, swapping stories about the latest projects, the occasional frustrations, and the little victories that keep you all going. The alcohol helps—loosening your tongue, easing the tension in your shoulders. You’re smiling more than you have in weeks, the weight of your responsibilities slipping away with each sip.

Sejin is by your side most of the night, always quick with a joke or a refill. He’s been a good friend since you started working together, the kind of guy who can make you laugh no matter how rough your day’s been. Tonight, though, there’s something different in the way he’s acting. He’s hovering closer, his touches lingering just a little too long—a hand on your shoulder, an arm around your waist as he pulls you into another laugh.

You try not to think about it too much, telling yourself it’s just the alcohol making you notice things that aren’t really there. Besides, you’re enjoying yourself, and you need this distraction. It’s a welcome reprieve from the complicated mess you and Yeonjun have created, a chance to remember who you are outside of the endless cycle of work and the tension that’s been brewing between you.

But as the night wears on, the drinks keep coming, and before you know it, you’re a lot drunker than you intended to be. The bar is spinning, your words slurring as you lean on Sejin for support. He laughs, though there’s a strange edge to it, and before you can protest, he’s leading you out into the cool night air.

“Let’s get you home, yeah?” he says, his voice sounding both far away and too close at the same time.

You nod, though your mind is hazy. The streets blur together as Sejin hails a cab, his arm still around you as you slide into the back seat. Your head lolls back against the seat, your thoughts drifting to Yeonjun—how you’ve barely seen him this week, how you miss him in a way that’s starting to hurt. You wonder if he’s home, if he’s even noticed you’ve been gone.

The cab ride is a blur, and before you know it, Sejin is helping you up the stairs to your apartment. You fumble with the keys, giggling as they slip through your fingers, and Sejin chuckles, taking them from you to unlock the door. The moment the door swings open, you stumble inside, barely registering the figure sitting on the couch until you hear his voice.

“Y/N?”

Yeonjun’s tone is sharp, cutting through the fog in your mind. You turn to face him, swaying slightly as you take in the sight of him—hair tousled, eyes dark as they flicker between you and Sejin.

“Hey, Yeonjun,” you mumble, your words tumbling out in a slur. “Didn’t know you’d be home.”

Sejin clears his throat, his hand still on your arm. “I, uh, brought her back. She had a little too much to drink.”

“Clearly,” Yeonjun mutters, standing up. There’s something in his expression that you can’t quite place, something that makes your stomach twist in a way that has nothing to do with the alcohol. “You didn’t have to go out of your way.”

Sejin’s grip on your arm tightens ever so slightly. “It’s no trouble. Just wanted to make sure she got home safe.”

Yeonjun takes a step closer, and for a moment, the air between them crackles with something tense and unspoken. You’re too drunk to fully understand what’s going on, but even in your foggy state, you can sense the shift in the atmosphere. 

“I’ll take it from here,” Yeonjun says, his voice firm, leaving no room for argument.

Sejin hesitates, his eyes flicking to you before he finally lets go of your arm. “Alright. Take care, Y/N,” he says, his tone softer as he gives you a final look, something unreadable in his gaze before he nods at Yeonjun and heads out the door.

The silence that follows is heavy, wrapping around you as Yeonjun closes the door behind him. You stumble toward the couch, dropping onto it with a huff. Your head is spinning, and your thoughts are a mess, but even through the haze, you can feel the tension rolling off of Yeonjun in waves.

“You didn’t have to be so rude,” you mumble, your eyes half-lidded as you look up at him. “Sejin was just being nice.”

Yeonjun lets out a humorless laugh, running a hand through his hair. “Nice, huh? Looked like he was being a little too nice.”

You frown, not understanding what he means. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He doesn’t answer right away, his jaw clenching as he looks away, his hands balling into fists at his sides. You’ve never seen him like this before, so tightly wound, like he’s holding back something he doesn’t want to admit.

“It means,” he finally says, his voice low and strained, “that I didn’t like seeing his hands all over you.”

His words hit you like a bucket of cold water, jolting you out of your drunken stupor just enough to understand what he’s saying. You stare at him, your heart pounding in your chest, your mind racing to catch up.

“You’re jealous?” you ask, disbelief coloring your tone.

Yeonjun’s eyes flash with something raw and vulnerable before he looks away, shaking his head. “I don’t know,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. “Maybe I am. I just didn’t like it.”

You blink, trying to process what he’s saying. The Yeonjun you know is always calm, always in control. Seeing him like this, so unguarded and honest, throws you off balance. But there’s a part of you that’s been waiting for something like this, something real and undeniable to break through the wall that’s been growing between you.

You push yourself up from the couch, your legs shaky as you close the distance between you. You reach out, your fingers brushing against his, and he looks down at you, his eyes searching yours for something you’re not sure you can give him.

“I don’t want him, Yeonjun,” you say softly, your voice steadier now. “I don’t want anyone else.”

His breath hitches, and for a moment, you think he might say something, but then he’s pulling you into his arms, holding you close like he’s afraid to let go. You melt into him, the warmth of his body grounding you, the steady beat of his heart in your ear.

The moment is tender, intimate in a way that feels different from all the times before. It’s not about the physical connection this time; it’s about something deeper, something that neither of you has been willing to acknowledge until now.

“You’re drunk,” he murmurs into your hair, his voice soft but laced with something that sounds like regret. “We should talk about this when you’re sober.”

You nod, your head heavy against his chest. “Okay,” you whisper, your eyes fluttering shut as exhaustion finally takes over. “But don’t go.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promises, his voice the last thing you hear as you drift off to sleep, safe in his arms.

The days following that night out are a blur of awkward silences and strained conversations. You’ve decided to keep your distance from Yeonjun, convinced that if you ignore the unresolved tension, it might just go away. It’s not easy—every time you pass him in the apartment or bump into him in the hallway, there’s an unspoken barrier between you that feels impossible to breach.

You’re confused and frustrated by him and what you can remember of that night. Angered by his idea that he has a right to be jealous over you and your own life when he has made it quite painfully clear that you only fit into a certain part of his. 

Deep down, you’re scared too. Scared that finally speaking the unspoken will completely ruin what you have with him right now. At least, some part of him is better than nothing. 

At work, you throw yourself into your projects with renewed fervor. The music studio becomes your refuge, the rhythmic pounding of your work echoing the unspoken rift in your personal life. You throw yourself into your songwriting, pouring all your frustration and confusion into your lyrics, trying to keep your mind off Yeonjun and what happened.

Your interactions with Yeonjun have become sparse and awkward. When you do talk, it’s about mundane things—what’s for dinner, when you’ll be home, or whether the groceries have been restocked. The warmth that once colored your conversations has evaporated, leaving behind a cold, professional distance. Yeonjun seems to sense the shift, though he doesn’t push. He glances at you with a mix of concern and frustration, but you avoid his gaze, determined not to confront what’s clearly between you.

One evening, as you return from a particularly long day at the studio, you find yourself yearning for the comfort of your apartment. But when you step into the kitchen, you’re met with an unexpected sight: Yeonjun is sitting at the table, flipping through your notebook.

Your heart sinks as you realize that the notebook in his hands is the one where you’ve been jotting down lyrics—lyrics that are deeply personal and mirror the turmoil you’ve been feeling. Panic surges through you as you stride over and snatch the notebook from him.

“What- what are you doing!” you demand, your voice trembling despite your attempt to sound composed.

Yeonjun looks up, surprise etched on his face. “I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s not for you to read,” you cut him off, clutching the notebook to your chest. “That’s private.”

He raises his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I saw it on the table and was curious. I didn’t realize it was… personal.”

“It is,” you snap, your frustration boiling over. “It’s personal, and it’s not for you to go through.”

Yeonjun stands up, his posture tense. “I wasn’t trying to invade your privacy. I just saw it and didn’t think. I mean, I thought it was just work…”

“You didn’t think,” you say, your voice rising. “That’s the problem. You never think about boundaries. This is more than just work to me!”

Yeonjun’s expression shifts from surprise to something harder, a mix of hurt and frustration. “I was trying to understand. Things have been off between us, and I thought maybe this would help.”

Your heart pounds as you realize the weight of his words, but you can’t bring yourself to fully acknowledge them. Instead, you feel the sting of his presence and the awkwardness of your failed attempts to keep things from getting complicated.

“You don’t need to understand through my work,” you say, your voice wavering. “If you want to talk, talk. But don’t read my lyrics and think you’ve got it all figured out.”

Yeonjun’s shoulders slump as he looks away, a silent admission of defeat. You feel a pang of guilt, but it’s quickly overshadowed by your own frustration and confusion.

“I need some space,” you say finally, your voice quieter now. “I’m going to stay with a friend tonight.”

Yeonjun’s eyes meet yours, a flicker of something unspoken passing between you. For a moment he looks as if he’s going to reach out and touch you, and in that same moment you realize you would’ve done nothing to stop him. But instead he just nods, but his expression remaining guarded. “Alright,” he says, his tone low. “I’ll be here when you get back.”

You grab a few essentials from your room and head for the door, unwelcome tears burning hot on your cheeks. You hope Yeonjun doesn’t notice as you rush out of your small apartment and down through the lobby into the outside night, the chill of the evening air a welcome distraction from the emotional storm inside you. As you make your way to your friend’s place, the city streets feel both unfamiliar and oddly comforting. The argument has left you feeling exposed, like you’ve revealed more than you intended.

When you arrive at your friend’s apartment, you sink into their couch, trying to push the thoughts of Yeonjun and the argument from your mind. But even as you try to relax, the weight of the unresolved tension between you lingers, a reminder of the delicate balance you’ve been struggling to maintain.

You fear that by distancing yourself, you might be pushing Yeonjun away for good. The thought of losing him entirely—of having to navigate your feelings alone—makes your heart ache. Yet, the walls you’ve built around yourself feel like the only protection you have against the complexity of your emotions and the uncertainty of what comes next.

You and Yeonjun manage to skirt around each other all the next day of work, maintaining a silence that’s louder than words. You work diligently, each interaction with Yeonjun marked by a careful neutrality. The emotional distance between you is palpable, and you both seem to be operating under a new, unspoken rule of non-interference.

As the workday winds down, you grab your things and head out, relieved to be done for the day. Sejin catches up with you as you leave the building. His presence is a welcome distraction, and you engage in casual conversation as you both walk toward the sidewalk.

Sejin has always been friendly, but lately, there’s been an undercurrent of something more. Today, as you both make your way out of the building, he seems unusually nervous. You sense a change in his demeanor as he stumbles over his words, clearly building up to something important.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you,” Sejin begins, his voice filled with a hesitant earnestness. “I’ve really enjoyed working with you, and over the past few months, I’ve developed feelings for you. I’ve been wanting to ask you out for a while now. How would you feel about going to dinner with me sometime?”

The question takes you by surprise. Your heart races as you process Sejin’s confession. You’ve noticed his growing interest, but you didn’t expect him to be so direct. Panic rises within you as you try to formulate a response that will be both honest and gentle.

“Well, Sejin,” you start, searching for the right words, “I appreciate your honesty and I’m flattered. But right now, I’ve–I’ve just got a lot going on, and I don’t think I’m ready to start something new.”

Before Sejin can respond, a shadow falls over the two of you. You glance up and see Yeonjun standing a few feet away, his face a storm of emotions. His eyes dart between you and Sejin, and his body language reveals a barely contained frustration. 

Without a word, Yeonjun brushes past you, his stride forceful and his shoulders tense. He makes a beeline for the exit, leaving you and Sejin standing in the wake of his departure. The tension in the air is palpable, and you watch Yeonjun’s retreating figure with a mixture of confusion and concern.

Sejin glances between you and the direction Yeonjun has gone, his face a mix of disappointment and concern. “Is everything okay?” he asks, his tone gentle.

You nod, trying to mask your unease. “Yeah, I think so. I just need to make sure Yeonjun’s alright. I’m sorry, Sejin. Can we talk about this another time?”

Sejin nods, trying to convey a look of understanding in his eyes. “Sure, yeah. I’ll, uh, I’ll see you tomorrow Y/N.”

With that, you turn and hurry after Yeonjun, your heart pounding in your chest. You navigate through the bustling city streets, your mind racing as you try to catch up with him. You call his name several times, but he’s already a few blocks ahead. 

As you round the corner toward the park where you often walk, you see Yeonjun’s silhouette up ahead, walking briskly. You quicken your pace, calling out to him once more. “Yeonjun! Please, wait!”

He doesn’t turn around, and as you get closer, you can see the tension in his posture. The streetlights cast long shadows, and the cool evening air feels heavy with unspoken words. You reach the park entrance just in time to see Yeonjun disappear around a corner, his figure retreating into the darkness.

Breathless and frustrated, you stop at the park entrance, your hands resting on your knees as you try to catch your breath. The realization hits you like a punch to the gut—Yeonjun’s already gone. The distance between you seems insurmountable, and the weight of the day’s events settles heavily on your shoulders.

You take a moment to compose yourself, your heart aching with a mix of regret and confusion. The conversation you had with Sejin, Yeonjun’s reaction, and the unresolved tension all swirl together in a confusing mess. You can’t shake the feeling that you’ve made a mistake, that you’ve pushed Yeonjun away without fully understanding the consequences.

You hurry back to the apartment, your steps echoing on the pavement as you rush to get home. The anxiety you feel is almost tangible, and your heart pounds in your chest. The tension from the earlier confrontation and the sight of Yeonjun walking away have left you feeling desperate to make things right.

As you fumble with your keys at the apartment door, your hands are shaky, and you finally manage to get it open. You practically burst inside, the cool air of the hallway a sharp contrast to the heat of your emotions. Without thinking, you head straight for Yeonjun’s room, your mind racing with fear and determination.

The door is closed, and you knock on it urgently, your voice trembling as you call out. “Yeonjun! Please, open the door! We need to talk!”

There’s no immediate response, and your anxiety grows. You knock harder, the sound of your fists hitting the wood echoing through the quiet apartment. “Yeonjun! Please, let me in!”

After what feels like an eternity, the door finally creaks open. Yeonjun stands there, his face streaked with tears, and the sight leaves you momentarily stunned. Your own tears well up as you take in his tear-streaked face, the raw emotion evident in his red eyes.

“Yeonjun…” you say softly, reaching up to touch his cheek and gently wipe away the wetness. The gesture feels like a small balm against the intense emotional turbulence between you.

He looks at you with a mix of sadness and frustration, his voice cracking as he speaks. “I heard everything. I’ve been hearing around the company that Sejin’s liked you for a while and was planning to ask you out. And it just… it drove me crazy, thinking that I let someone else get to you before I did.”

He pauses, his breath hitching as he tries to gather his composure. “I don’t know when it started. Maybe from the first time I saw you or the first night we spent together here, I just, just didn’t think I could stand to be apart from you anymore. But I was a coward, hiding behind all that talk of ‘no titles’ until it made myself sick, but not as sick as the thought of losing you. So I just held out, and I was selfish to be jealous of you and Sejin but I just, I just–.”

His words spill out in a jumble, and you can see the pain in his eyes. The fear and regret in his voice cut through you, and you realize the depth of his feelings and the extent of his struggle. It’s a painful revelation, but one that brings clarity to the confusion of the past few weeks.

“Yeonjun,” you say, shaking your head as you interrupt him, “I’m sorry too. My new song,” you begin, throat dry at beginning your confession. “The lyrics, they were about you. And us. I freaked out when I saw you reading them because I didn’t want you to know that’s how I really felt, really feel about you.”

Yeonjun’s eyes widen, and he seems momentarily taken aback. “Your lyrics… they were about me?”

You nod, your voice trembling as you continue. “Yes. I didn’t know how to tell you. I was scared too—scared of how you’d react, scared of losing you if things went wrong. I thought keeping things as they were would be easier, but it only made things worse.”

Yeonjun reaches out, taking your hands in his, his grip firm but gentle. “I never meant to hurt you.”

Tears spill down your cheeks, mingling with his as you both stand there, emotions raw and exposed. The vulnerability in this moment is overwhelming, but it’s also a relief. For the first time, you feel like you’re both truly seen and heard.

“I don’t want to hide anymore,” you say, your voice soft but resolute.

Yeonjun nods, his eyes searching yours. You both stand there in the quiet of Yeonjun’s room, holding each other and allowing the weight of the past to slowly lift.

The quiet of Yeonjun's room wraps around you both, a cocoon of stillness that contrasts sharply with the whirlwind of emotions you're both feeling. 

And then his hands are on you again, for the first time again in what feels like an eternity, but for the first time that it really feels like they should be.

The intensity of the moment lingers as you continue to hold each other, the weight of unspoken feelings finally coming to light.

Yeonjun's eyes search yours with a mixture of vulnerability and longing. His hand, still holding yours, gently rubs the back of your hand with his thumb. The small, tender gesture speaks volumes, and you can feel the tension between you start to shift.

"I've missed this," Yeonjun murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. "I've missed being close to you, in every way."

You take a deep breath, your heart racing as you feel the same pull. The barriers between you have crumbled, leaving only the raw, honest emotions that have been building up for so long.

Without thinking, you lean in, closing the space between you.

Yeonjun's lips meet yours in a kiss that is soft at first, almost tentative, as if he's testing the waters. But as the kiss deepens, the hesitance fades, replaced by a consuming need to connect. His arms wrap around you, pulling you closer, and you respond eagerly, your hands finding their way to his hair and the back of his neck.

The kiss grows more passionate, the intensity of your emotions reflected in every touch and movement. Yeonjun's hands slide down your back, tracing the curves of your body with a reverent touch that sends shivers down your spine. You can feel the heat between you, the longing that has been simmering under the surface, finally being expressed in a physical, tangible way.

As the kiss breaks, both of you are breathless, your foreheads resting against each other. Yeonjun's eyes are filled with a mixture of desire and tenderness. 

And in one swift movement, he pulls you to his bed until you’re pinned underneath him. His hands roam over your body, exploring with a mix of urgency and reverence. Each touch is a declaration, a way of expressing the feelings that words have failed to capture.

His long fingers trail teasingly under your top, feeling their way, as they have done countless times before, until they reach your aching breasts. 

You find yourself lost in the sensation of his hands on your skin, the way he touches you with both confidence and care. The intimacy between you is electric, each caress and kiss further dissolving the barriers that had once kept you apart.

His hands seemed to have acted on their own, ripping your shirt off and taking not much longer to unclasp your bra. You find this an invitation and an opening to pull his own shirt off, your palms roaming eagerly against his now bare and slightly sweaty chest.

A smirk rises to his lips as he moves downwards, lazily pulling at your underwear from under your skirt. Your back arches in response, a whimper escaping your lips.

“Jun… please,” you whine, begging to feel him between your shaking legs.

“So needy,” he teases, eyes dark as he removes the rest of his clothes. You do the same, and he hovers over you instantaneously, an unfamiliar yet pleased smile curved onto his lips. 

And then he’s inside of you and your mind is swimming in a sea of pleasure and blissfulness. You’re tangled in each other and for once you don’t feel bad about it or have the lingering feeling that guilt will begin creeping in anytime soon. You feel right now that you’re exactly where you need to be. 

After a while you both settle onto the bed, the kisses become slower, yet your hands still exploring each other's bodies with a desperate need. Yeonjun's touch is both tender and passionate, his hands moving over you with a sense of awe and longing. You respond in kind, your hands tracing the contours of his body, savoring the feel of him beneath your fingertips.

The world outside melts away, leaving only the connection you share in this moment. The passion and emotion that have been building up between you finally find their release, and the bed becomes a haven where you both can express the depth of your feelings.

As you both finally come to rest, entwined in each other's arms, the room is filled with a quiet sense of peace. The kisses and touches have given way to a gentle, lingering closeness, and the weight of the past seems to lift, leaving only the promise of a new beginning.

Thank you for reading! I had a lot of drafts saved so I’ve been posting them over the past few days!

[nextchae]

* ೃ༄ welcome to nextchae!

(*ੈ✩‧₊˚) — morgan. she/her. 22. beomgyu luvr.

about me masterlist old masterlist ask!

@nextchae | est 2018!

[nextchae]

⋆·˚ ༘ * nextchae’s old masterlist

© nextchae : all rights reserved. any reposting or translation onto other sites is not permitted. thank you.

ateez

reactions ↳ having a supermodel gf ↳ their significant other feeling insecure ↳ another member being your ult bias ↳ having a curvier significant other ↳ someone checking out their significant other

mtl ↳ start a relationship with a fan ↳ easily fall in love ↳ doing cheesy things with their significant other

bts

one shots ↳ yoongi dating

reactions ↳ falling for their language tutor ↳ he's upset

bts as boyfriends ↳ j hope

day6

reactions ↳ having a curvier significant other ↳ confessing to their crush ↳ someone checking out their significant other

mtl ↳ act shy around their crush ↳ doing cheesy things with their significant other

day6 as boyfriends ↳ jae ↳ sungjin ↳ young k ↳ wonpil ↳ dowoon

got7

one shots ↳ mark number 63 arranged love ↳ jaebeom 50 & 52 ↳ jinyoung 16 & 17

reactions ↳ you're drunk

got7 as boyfriends ↳ jaebeom ↳ yugyeom

seventeen

one shots ↳ joshua cat eyes

reactions ↳ seeing their crush doing a kind act - vocal unit ↳ boyfriend wears women's clothes - hip hop unit ↳ you crack your fingers - performance unit ↳ finding out they're going to be a dad ↳ wisdom teeth removed - hip hop unit ↳ you can't sleep ↳ you walk home in the rain

mtl ↳ easily fall in love ↳ dating an artist ↳ dating a poet

seventeen as best friends ↳ s coups ↳ jeonghan ↳ joshua

stray kids

reactions ↳ you're sick

[nextchae]

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© nextchae : all rights reserved. any reposting or translation onto other sites is not permitted. thank you.

last updated: august 25, 2024

enhypen

↳ lee heeseung

— pen and point : 28.9k ↳ Y/N is a dedicated fencing athlete whose life revolves around the sport, school, and her part-time job at a campus coffee shop. When Heeseung, a reserved journalism student with an eye for deeper stories, starts frequenting the shop, Y/N is intrigued but unsure of his intentions.

txt

↳ choi yeonjun

— between the lines : 9.8k ↳ Y/N and Yeonjun, two close friends who live together as roommates in the city, have a close friends with benefits/no-strings-attached relationship. As they navigate their individual careers—Y/N as a songwriter and Yeonjun as a choreographer—they struggle with unspoken feelings that simmer beneath the surface.

↳ choi soobin

— embers : 16.4k ↳ After a devastating breakup in Seoul, Y/N returns to her small hometown, seeking solace in the familiar but finding her past more complicated than she remembered. Amidst the backdrop of small-town life and the warmth of old friendships, Y/N must navigate the pain of her past to discover whether her heart truly belongs in the place she left behind—or in the arms of the person who's always been there, waiting.

[nextchae]

embers – choi soobin

word count: 16.4k

pairing: choi soobin x fem!reader

synopsis: After a devastating breakup in Seoul, Y/N returns to her small hometown, seeking solace in the familiar but finding her past more complicated than she remembered. As she reconnects with her family, twin brother Beomgyu, and her childhood friends Ryujin and Soobin, the unresolved feelings she has for Soobin begin to resurface. Amidst the backdrop of small-town life and the warmth of old friendships, Y/N must navigate the pain of her past to discover whether her heart truly belongs in the place she left behind—or in the arms of the person who's always been there, waiting.

genre: love next door!au, childhood friends to lovers, slowburn, fluff, suggestive themes

playlist: add me <3

The train slows as it nears the station, the rhythmic clatter of the tracks gradually fading. Outside the window, the cityscape of Seoul has long since given way to the rolling hills and open fields of Gwangcheon, the small town you once called home. You haven’t been back in years, not since you left for university and the bright lights of the city. Now, the sight of it fills you with a mixture of anxiety and reluctant nostalgia.

Your reflection in the window stares back at you, eyes still puffy from the sleepless nights that have plagued you since the breakup. Seoul was supposed to be your fresh start, your escape from the confines of small-town life. Instead, it became the place where everything fell apart.

His name was Daehyun. You met during your second year of university, in a café just off campus where you both liked to study. He had a warm smile, the kind that made you feel like you were the only person in the room, and a outgoing personality that drew you in. He was different from anyone you’d ever met—sophisticated, ambitious, and completely in control of his life. Or at least, that’s what you thought.

For a while, everything was perfect. He introduced you to a world you’d only ever dreamed of—fancy restaurants, art galleries, weekend trips to places you’d never been. He made you feel special, important, like you were part of something bigger. But slowly, almost imperceptibly, things began to change. 

He became distant, absorbed in his work and his own life. You told yourself it was just a phase, that he was busy, that he still cared. But the late-night arguments started, his voice cold and cutting as he accused you of being too needy, too demanding. You tried to make it work, to hold onto the relationship that had once made you so happy. But it was like trying to hold water in your hands—the more you tried, the more it slipped away.

The final straw came when you found out he’d been seeing someone else, a girl from his work. The betrayal cut deep, shattering the last remnants of the trust you’d once had in him. You confronted him, hoping for an apology, for some sign that he still cared. But all he said was that he didn’t see a future with you, that it was better to end things now before it got worse.

You left his apartment that night, your heart in pieces, the life you’d built in Seoul suddenly meaningless. You couldn’t stay there, surrounded by memories of him, by the constant reminders of what you’d lost. So you packed your things, bought a train ticket, and left the city behind without a word to anyone.

As the train pulls into the station, you force yourself to take a deep breath. You’re not ready for this, not ready to face your family and the questions you know are coming. But there’s no turning back now. The past few months have been a blur of pain and confusion, and all you can do is hope that coming home will help you find some semblance of peace.

The station is small, just as you remember it, with only a handful of people waiting on the platform. As you step off the train, your suitcase rolling behind you, you spot Beomgyu leaning against the hood of the family car. He hasn’t changed much—your twin brother is tall and lean, with the same mischievous glint in his eyes that’s been there since you were kids. But there’s something else in his expression now, something softer, more understanding.

When he sees you, his face lights up with a smile that makes your heart ache with a bittersweet mix of relief and guilt. He pushes off the car and walks over to you, pulling you into a tight hug before you can say anything.

“Hey, you,” he says, his voice warm and familiar. “You made it.”

You nod, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. “Yeah. I’m here.”

He pulls back, studying your face with a concerned frown. “You okay?”

You manage a shaky smile. “Not really. But I will be.”

He nods, seeming to understand. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

The drive through town is quiet, the silence between you and Beomgyu filled with unspoken words. The streets of Gwangcheon look almost exactly as they did when you left—small shops with faded signs, the old school building, and the park where you and Beomgyu used to play. The familiarity is comforting, but also disorienting, like stepping into a past you’re not sure you belong to anymore.

Beomgyu keeps glancing over at you as he drives, his expression thoughtful. “Mom’s going to be surprised,” he says after a while. “You didn’t give her any warning.”

“I know,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t know how to tell her. Or what to say.”

“She’ll understand,” he says firmly. “She’s just going to be happy you’re home.”

You nod, hoping he’s right. You haven’t told anyone the full story—not your parents, not Beomgyu, not even your closest friends. It’s too raw, too painful to put into words. But you know you can’t avoid it forever. Sooner or later, you’ll have to face the questions, the concern, the inevitable pity.

When you pull up to the house, the familiar sight of it brings a rush of memories. It’s a modest place, with a small garden out front that your mother has always taken pride in. The curtains in the living room window flutter slightly, a sign that someone inside has noticed your arrival.

Beomgyu grabs your suitcase from the trunk and gives you a reassuring smile. “Ready?”

“Not really,” you admit, but you follow him up the path anyway, your heart pounding in your chest.

He opens the door without knocking, calling out, “Mom! We’re here!”

You step into the entryway, the familiar scent of home—lavender and something faintly floral—washing over you. It’s a small comfort, but a comfort nonetheless. You can hear footsteps coming down the hall, and then your mother appears, her face lighting up with surprise and confusion as she sees you standing there.

“Y/N?” she says, her voice filled with disbelief. “What are you doing here?”

You try to smile, but it feels forced. “Surprise?”

For a moment, she just stares at you, as if trying to convince herself that you’re really here. Then she steps forward, pulling you into a tight hug, her arms wrapping around you with a familiarity that brings tears to your eyes. You can feel the tension in her shoulders, the worry she’s trying to hide, but she doesn’t say anything, just holds you like she’s afraid to let go.

After a long moment, she pulls back, her hands still resting on your shoulders as she studies your face. “What happened, sweetheart? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

You swallow hard, trying to find the words. “I…I needed to get away. From Seoul. From everything.”

Her expression softens, and she nods, understanding without you needing to explain further. “You’re home now,” she says gently. “That’s all that matters.”

Beomgyu sets your suitcase down by the stairs and gives you a small smile. “I’ll take your stuff up to your room.”

“Thanks,” you murmur, grateful for his quiet support.

Your mother guides you into the living room, where the afternoon light filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the familiar furniture. You sit down on the sofa, feeling the weight of the past few months pressing down on you. Your mother sits beside you, her hand resting on yours, offering silent comfort.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asks softly, her voice full of concern.

You shake your head, the tears threatening to spill over. “Not yet. I just…I need some time.”

She nods, squeezing your hand gently. “Take all the time you need, sweetheart. We’re here for you.”

The warmth of her words wraps around you like a blanket, easing some of the tension that has been sitting in your chest. You lean back against the sofa, letting out a long breath as you try to relax. The house is quiet, the only sound the distant ticking of the old clock on the mantel.

Beomgyu returns a few minutes later, his footsteps soft on the hardwood floor. “Everything’s in your room,” he says, sitting down on the armchair across from you. “Figured you might want to unpack later.”

You nod, too exhausted to do much more than that. “Thanks, Beomgyu.”

He shrugs, but there’s a softness in his eyes that tells you he’s just as relieved as you are to have you home. “What are brothers for?”

Your mother glances between the two of you, her expression a mixture of relief and concern. “Why don’t we have some tea? I just made a fresh pot.”

You agree, grateful for the distraction. As she heads to the kitchen, Beomgyu gives you a knowing look. “Want to sneak out?”

You laugh, slightly taken aback before shaking your head. You’ve been away so long, too long, and it’s made you momentarily forget how much you missed your brother and all of his mischief.

When your mother returns with the tea, the three of you settle into a comfortable silence, the warmth of the house seeping into your bones. For the first time in weeks, you feel a small flicker of hope, like maybe, just maybe, things will be okay again.

You sit with Beomgyu and your mother, sipping tea in the cozy living room. The warmth of the tea combined with the comforting atmosphere starts to thaw the cold ache in your chest. Your mother chatters about the latest town gossip, the news she knows you haven’t kept up with since moving to Seoul. Beomgyu chimes in now and then, adding his own commentary that makes your mother smile and shake her head in that fond, exasperated way she always does with him.

You’re beginning to feel a sense of normalcy, like maybe you can fit back into this life, even after everything that’s happened. But just as you start to relax, the sound of the front door opening interrupts the moment.

Your father’s voice echoes from the hallway, a familiar deep rumble that always made you feel safe as a child. “Honey, I’m home! You’ll never guess what—” He stops mid-sentence as he steps into the living room, his eyes landing on you. For a second, he just stares, as if trying to process whether or not you’re real. 

“Y/N?” His voice is filled with disbelief, his eyes wide as he looks at you. “Am I dreaming, or is my daughter really sitting on my couch?”

You stand up, feeling a little self-conscious under his gaze. “It’s me, Dad. I’m home.”

He blinks a few times, then a wide grin spreads across his face. “Well, I’ll be! The prodigal daughter returns!” He strides across the room and wraps you in a bear hug, lifting you slightly off the ground like he used to when you were little. You laugh, the sound surprising you with how natural it feels.

When he finally sets you down, he steps back and gives you a once-over, his expression a mix of concern and affection. “What brings you back to our little corner of the world? You didn’t even tell us you were coming!”

Your mother, who had been watching with a fond smile, steps in before you can answer. “She needed a break from the city, that’s all. And we’re just happy to have her back, aren’t we?”

“Happy?” Your dad scoffs playfully. “That’s an understatement! This calls for a celebration!” He claps his hands together, then turns to Beomgyu. “Go grab that cake from the fridge, son. We’ve got something to celebrate now!”

Beomgyu rolls his eyes but grins, heading to the kitchen to fetch the cake. You can’t help but smile at your dad’s enthusiasm. He’s always been the lighthearted one, the one who could turn any situation into something to laugh about. It’s comforting, especially after everything you’ve been through.

As you all settle back into the living room with slices of cake, your dad starts telling stories from work, exaggerating the mundane until you’re all laughing so hard your sides hurt. For a moment, you forget about the heartbreak, the betrayal, and the uncertainty. Here, with your family, things feel almost normal again.

After a while, the conversation turns quieter, the evening settling in around you. You glance out the window, the sky a deep indigo as night takes hold. It’s been a long day, and the emotional toll of coming home is starting to catch up with you.

“I think I’m going to head up to my room,” you say, rising from the sofa. “It’s been a long day.”

Your mother looks up at you, her eyes soft with understanding. “Of course, sweetheart. Get some rest. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

Beomgyu nods, still munching on his cake. “Yeah, you’ll need your energy for Mom’s full interrogation tomorrow.”

You laugh softly, but there’s a sadness in it, too. You wave goodnight and head upstairs, the familiar creak of the wooden steps under your feet. Your room is exactly as you left it—well, almost. There are a few changes, little signs that your mother has kept it clean and cozy even in your absence. The bed is freshly made, and the shelves are dusted, but everything else is just as it was when you left for Seoul.

You set your suitcase down and walk over to the window, looking out at the quiet street. It’s so different from the bustling chaos of Seoul, where everything felt like it was moving too fast, too uncontrollably. Here, everything is still, calm, almost eerily peaceful. You sit on the edge of your bed, the weight of the day finally pressing down on you. The ache in your chest that you’ve been holding at bay all evening starts to grow, and you can feel the tears welling up behind your eyes.

But before you can let yourself break down, there’s a soft tapping at your window.

You freeze, confused, then look over. Your heart skips a beat when you see Ryujin standing outside, a wide grin on her face, her breath fogging up the glass. She waves at you, her smile so familiar it makes you want to cry.

You scramble to open the window, and she immediately climbs inside with the grace and ease of someone who’s done this a hundred times before. As soon as she’s in, she tackles you in a hug, nearly knocking you off the bed.

“I can’t believe you’re actually here!” Ryujin says, her voice a mix of excitement and disbelief. “When my mom said she saw you coming home, I thought she was joking!”

You laugh, the sound choked by the emotion in your throat, and hug her back tightly. “I’m here. I’m really here.”

She pulls back just enough to look at you, her eyes scanning your face with concern. “I knew something was up when I didn’t hear from you for a while, but I didn’t expect this. Are you okay?”

You shake your head, tears finally spilling over. “Not really. But being here…it helps.”

Ryujin’s expression softens, and she wipes away your tears with her thumb. “You’re home now. We’ll figure it out, okay?”

You nod, unable to speak as more tears fall. She pulls you into another hug, her presence a comfort you didn’t realize you needed so badly. The two of you sit there for a long time, just holding each other in the dim light of your room.

Eventually, Ryujin pulls back and flops onto your bed, patting the spot beside her. “Come on, let’s catch up. It’s been way too long since we had one of our late-night talks.”

You smile through your tears and join her, the two of you lying side by side like you used to in high school. The conversation flows easily, like no time has passed at all. She tells you about everything that’s happened in Gwangcheon since you left—who’s dating who, the latest school scandals, and all the little things you’ve missed.

As the night wears on, you find yourself feeling lighter, the burden of your breakup and the move back home easing just a little. 

“So…have you seen Soobin yet?”

You stiffen slightly, the name bringing back a flood of memories you’ve been trying to keep at bay. Soobin, your childhood friend, the boy who lived next door. The boy who was always there, even when you didn’t realize how much you needed him. 

“No,” you say quietly, staring up at the ceiling. “I haven’t seen him yet.”

Ryujin rolls onto her side, propping herself up on her elbow to look at you. “He’s been around, you know. Helping his mom with the garden, hanging out at the old spots. I think he’ll be really happy to see you.”

You nod, feeling a strange mix of anticipation and fear. You’ve kept in touch with Soobin, but it’s been sporadic, the two of you drifting apart as you got older and your lives took different paths. But now that you’re back, there’s a part of you that’s terrified of what seeing him again might mean.

Ryujin seems to sense your hesitation and reaches out to squeeze your hand. “It’ll be okay, Y/N. He’s still Soobin, and you’re still you. Just…talk to him. Like old times.”

You nod again, but the knot in your stomach doesn’t loosen. You know you’ll have to face him eventually, just like you have to face everything else. But for tonight, you’re grateful to have Ryujin by your side, helping you navigate the tangled mess of your emotions.

As the two of you talk late into the night, you feel a little more like yourself, a little more like the girl who used to lie here with her best friend, dreaming about the future and everything it held. 

You wake up to the smell of breakfast cooking downstairs, the scent of your mother’s pancakes filling the air. The sun is just beginning to filter through your curtains, and for a moment, you feel a sense of peace, as if the world outside your window isn’t so complicated. It’s a sharp contrast to the rush and chaos of Seoul mornings, where you barely had time to grab a piece of toast before running out the door. 

You roll over, half expecting to see Ryujin still curled up next to you, but the spot beside you is empty. Her absence pulls you from the cocoon of warmth you’d wrapped yourself in. Your mind flickers with the memory of last night, the way she’d asked about Soobin, and how much his name had unsettled you. You stretch out the tension from your limbs, a part of you grateful that she didn’t push the conversation further.

After quickly changing into something comfortable, you head downstairs, following the sounds of clattering dishes and the hum of conversation. When you reach the kitchen, you find your mother at the stove, flipping pancakes with a practiced ease. Your father is seated at the table, sipping his coffee and reading the morning paper. Beomgyu, ever the night owl, is half-asleep with his head on the table, barely managing to keep his eyes open. 

“Good morning,” you say, sliding into the chair next to Beomgyu. He grunts a sleepy response, still not fully awake.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” your mother replies brightly, turning to give you a warm smile. “I was just about to call you down. Breakfast is almost ready.”

Your dad peers over the top of his newspaper, giving you a nod of greeting. “Morning, kiddo. Sleep well?”

“Yeah,” you say, though the truth is that your sleep was fitful, your mind too busy with thoughts of everything that’s changed. But you don’t want to burden your parents with that, not when they’re so happy to have you home.

Just as you’re about to ask where Ryujin went, the front door swings open with a loud creak, and she bursts into the kitchen, a wide grin on her face. And right behind her is Soobin.

Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him, the memories of last night’s conversation rushing back. He looks almost exactly as you remember—tall, with that familiar mop of dark hair falling into his eyes. There’s something in the way he carries himself that’s different now, though—a quiet confidence that wasn’t there when you were kids.

“Look who I found wandering around outside!” Ryujin announces, her voice full of mischief. She’s practically dragging Soobin by the arm as she pulls him into the kitchen. He gives her an exasperated look, though there’s a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Morning,” Soobin says, his voice warm but slightly hesitant as his eyes meet yours. You can tell he’s unsure, probably wondering how you’re going to react after all this time.

“Morning, Soobin!” your mother says cheerfully, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world for him to be here. “Sit down, I’ll get you a plate. We’ve got plenty of pancakes.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Y/L/N,” Soobin replies, taking a seat at the table. Ryujin plops down next to him, grinning at the both of you like she knows something you don’t. 

You offer Soobin a small smile, still feeling the awkwardness lingering between you, but it’s nothing compared to the warmth of seeing him again. “Hey, Soobin.”

“Hey, Y/N,” he says, returning your smile. His voice is softer than you remember, but there’s a steadiness to it that reassures you. The tension between you begins to ease just a little.

“Finally,” Beomgyu mumbles, pushing himself up from the table, more awake now that the smell of pancakes has fully roused him. “I thought I was the only one getting dragged out of bed this early.”

Ryujin snickers. “Oh, please, Beomgyu. You’re always the last one up. I had to do all the work to get him here.”

Soobin chuckles, shaking his head. “She practically jumped through my window to get me up. I’m still not sure how she got into my house.”

Beomgyu grins, the drowsiness now fully replaced by his usual humor. “That’s just Ryujin for you. No one is safe from her morning raids.”

“Exactly,” Ryujin says, unrepentant. She looks at Soobin, then at you, a glint of something in her eyes. “Anyway, I figured you’d want to see each other. It’s been way too long.”

Your heart skips a beat at her words, but you quickly focus on your breakfast, not wanting to let the moment become too heavy. Still, you can feel Soobin’s gaze on you, and when you glance up, he’s watching you with that same soft, almost nostalgic expression.

“Yeah,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady. “It has been.”

The conversation around the table soon picks up, with your dad jumping in to share some of the ridiculous stories from his job, while Ryujin and Beomgyu start bickering over the last pancake. Soobin joins in, his laugh filling the room and making you remember all the times the three of you hung out here after school, eating snacks your mom prepared while you joked around until your sides hurt.

For a while, the stiffness between you and Soobin fades, and you find yourselves slipping back into the easy childhood friendship you once shared. He teases you about your terrible aim in the old treehouse slingshot wars, and you fire back about his disastrous attempt at baking cookies that one time. Even Beomgyu gets in on it, reminding Soobin of the time he got stuck in the fence trying to sneak into your backyard.

“Oh my god, I thought we agreed never to speak of that again,” Soobin groans, his face turning slightly red as everyone laughs.

“No way, man,” Beomgyu says, grinning. “That’s one of the all-time classics. Right up there with Ryujin breaking the garden gnome.”

“That gnome was creepy anyway,” Ryujin protests, but she’s laughing, too.

You can’t help but laugh along with them, the sound coming easier than it has in weeks. It feels good, like a small piece of the puzzle that is your life is clicking back into place. The breakfast stretches longer than you expected, the food mostly forgotten as the four of you talk and joke like old times.

Eventually, though, the clock on the wall chimes, reminding Soobin that he has to go. He glances at it and sighs, reluctantly pushing his chair back.

“I should head out,” he says, looking a bit regretful. “Work and all that.”

You nod, feeling a pang of disappointment that surprises you. “Yeah, of course. Thanks for coming over.”

Soobin smiles at you, and this time, it reaches his eyes. “Anytime, Y/N. I’m really glad you’re back.”

“Me too,” you say softly, and you mean it.

He says his goodbyes to your parents, who wave him off with promises to invite him over for dinner soon. Ryujin walks him to the door, but not before giving you a knowing look over her shoulder.

Once he’s gone, the house feels a little quieter, a little emptier, though the warmth from breakfast still lingers. Beomgyu leans back in his chair, stretching with a contented sigh.

“Well, that was nice,” he says, then gives you a teasing smile. “You and Soobin seemed to get along pretty well, huh?”

You roll your eyes, though your cheeks flush slightly. “Shut up, Beomgyu.”

“Come on, he’s just teasing,” Ryujin says, returning to the kitchen with a satisfied grin. “It was nice seeing you two together again. Felt like old times.”

You smile, though there’s a lot left unsaid. “Yeah, it did.”

The sun hangs low in the sky as you make your way back home, the weight of the grocery bags in your hands grounding you in the moment. The streets of your hometown are quieter now, bathed in the soft hues of evening, and the familiarity of it all is both comforting and unsettling. You pass by houses you know so well, each one holding memories from a time when life felt simpler.

When you reach your house, you notice a familiar figure standing on a ladder just outside the front door. Soobin is there, fiddling with a light fixture, his tall frame stretched to its limit as he tries to reach the wiring. You pause for a moment, watching him, a mix of amusement and curiosity bubbling up inside you. 

As if sensing your presence, Soobin glances down and catches your eye, a grin spreading across his face. “Back already? I thought I had more time to finish this before you got home.”

“Guess I’m faster than you thought,” you reply, smirking as you walk up to the door. “What are you doing, anyway? Isn’t that light Beomgyu’s job?”

Soobin scoffs, shaking his head as he returns to his work. “Beomgyu can barely change a light bulb without breaking something. Your mom called me over. Said this thing’s been flickering for weeks.”

You chuckle, knowing all too well how disastrous Beomgyu can be with household tasks. “Yeah, that sounds about right. I’m surprised you’re the one she called, though.”

Soobin shrugs, still focused on the light. “She knows I’m good at this stuff. And I guess I can’t say no to her.”

You stand there for a moment, watching as he works. There’s something oddly satisfying about seeing him like this, so at ease with himself, even in the small, mundane task of fixing a light. It’s a stark contrast to the image of him you had in your mind all those years in Seoul, where he was just a memory, something to miss in quiet moments.

Finally, he finishes up, stepping down from the ladder and giving the light a final check. “There. All fixed,” he announces, wiping his hands on his jeans.

“Impressive,” you tease, leaning against the doorframe. “But you missed a spot.”

Soobin’s eyes narrow playfully. “Where?”

You point to a random spot on the light, smirking as he follows your finger. “Right there.”

He rolls his eyes when he realizes you’re messing with him. “Very funny, Y/N.”

You laugh, pushing off the doorframe. “You’re welcome. Now, help me with these groceries.”

He obliges, taking a few of the heavier bags from your hands as you both head inside. The house is warm and cozy, the smells of dinner already wafting through the air. Your mom calls out a greeting from the kitchen, but it’s clear she’s busy with preparations.

You and Soobin head to the living room, where you set the bags down on the coffee table. The room is quiet, save for the occasional clatter of dishes from the kitchen, and it’s strange being alone with him again, after all this time.

“So, how long are you staying?” Soobin asks casually, breaking the silence as he takes a seat on the couch.

You hesitate, knowing that question has been on the tip of everyone’s tongues since you arrived. “I’m not sure yet. I guess it depends.”

“Depends on what?” he asks, genuinely curious.

You shrug, avoiding his gaze. “A lot of things.”

He watches you for a moment, as if he’s trying to figure you out, then changes the subject. “You still remember how to cook, right? Or do I need to take over in the kitchen?”

You scoff, grabbing the bag of vegetables and heading to the kitchen. “Please, I’ve been living on my own for years. I’m pretty sure I know how to chop a few vegetables.”

Soobin follows you, leaning against the counter as you start to unpack the groceries. “Just checking. You never know, city life might’ve turned you into one of those takeout-only types.”

“Not a chance,” you say, setting a cutting board on the counter and grabbing a knife. “But thanks for the concern.”

He smirks, watching as you begin slicing the vegetables with practiced ease. “I’m impressed. Maybe you have changed.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “You’re the one who’s changed, not me. I never would’ve pegged you as the handy type.”

He laughs softly. “People can surprise you.”

The two of you fall into an easy rhythm, exchanging banter as you prepare dinner. It feels almost like old times, the bickering and teasing coming naturally, even after all the years apart. But there’s an underlying tension, a sense that there’s more to say, more to ask.

As you chop up the last of the vegetables, Soobin clears his throat, the casual tone of the conversation shifting slightly. “So, uh… are you still with that guy? Daehyun, or something?” he hesitates when saying his name, like he can’t quite remember it, but it sounds almost as if he can exactly remember.

Your hands freeze for a moment, the knife hovering over the cutting board. You knew this question would come eventually, but you hadn’t expected it so soon, or so directly. You glance at Soobin, who’s watching you with a mix of curiosity and something else you can’t quite place.

“No,” you say quietly, resuming your chopping at a slower pace. “We… broke up.”

Soobin’s brow furrows in concern. “Oh. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay,” you interrupt, forcing a smile as you set the knife down. “It was… a long time coming, I guess.”

He nods slowly, clearly trying to choose his words carefully. “What happened? If you don’t mind me asking.”

You take a deep breath, debating how much to tell him. You haven’t even told your parents the whole truth, not wanting to worry them more than necessary. But with Soobin, it feels different—like maybe you owe him at least some of the truth.

“It just… wasn’t working out,” you say, leaning against the counter and crossing your arms. “We wanted different things. Or rather, he wanted something I couldn’t give him.”

Soobin’s gaze softens, and you can tell he’s piecing it together, but he doesn’t push. “Sounds like he was an idiot.”

You let out a small, humorless laugh. “Maybe. Or maybe I was the idiot for sticking around as long as I did.”

He shakes his head, his expression turning serious. “You’re not an idiot, Y/N. Sometimes things just don’t work out, no matter how much you want them to.”

You meet his eyes, feeling a lump form in your throat. “Yeah. I just wish I’d figured that out sooner.”

The room falls into a comfortable silence, Soobin’s presence a steadying force as you let the weight of your words settle between you. It’s not the whole story, not by a long shot, but it’s more than you’ve told anyone else. And for now, that’s enough.

“Well,” Soobin says after a moment, his tone lighter as he pushes off the counter, “if you ever need someone to talk to, or someone to make fun of, you know where to find me.”

You smile, genuinely this time. “Thanks, Soobin. I appreciate that.”

He grins, that easy, familiar smile that you’ve missed more than you realized. “Anytime, Y/N.”

As you both continue preparing dinner, the conversation shifts back to lighter topics, the tension between you easing into something more comfortable, more familiar. It’s strange how quickly you’ve fallen back into this dynamic, but it’s also comforting in a way you didn’t expect.

And you allow yourself to think for a moment that maybe being back home wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be.

The next couple of weeks pass in a blur of small-town rhythms, a stark contrast to the constant noise and motion of Seoul. You find yourself falling back into old routines, hanging out with Ryujin, spending time with your family, and catching up with Soobin. It’s comforting, in a way, but also unsettling—like you’re living in a strange limbo, where everything is familiar but slightly off-kilter.

Ryujin is a constant presence, as she always was, dragging you out of the house whenever she can. Whether it’s to grab a coffee, take a walk around the neighborhood, or just sit and gossip like you used to in high school, she’s there, her energy relentless. She never pushes you to talk about why you came home, though. She’s content to let you come to her when you’re ready, and for that, you’re grateful.

Your parents, on the other hand, aren’t as subtle. Your mom, especially, hovers more than usual, her concern evident in the way she keeps asking if you’re okay, if you need anything, if there’s something you want to talk about. You deflect with practiced ease, reassuring her that you’re fine, that you just needed a break from the city. She seems to accept it, but you can tell she’s not convinced.

Soobin is around often, whether he’s coming over to help with something around the house or just hanging out with you and Beomgyu. You fall back into an easy friendship with him, the teasing and bickering coming naturally, just like it always did. But there’s something different now, a tension that lingers beneath the surface, something neither of you acknowledges but both of you feel.

It’s on one of these typical days that Soobin invites you out for dinner with some of his coworkers. “It’ll be fun,” he promises as the two of you lounge in the living room, flipping through TV channels. “They’re a good group. Plus, I could use someone to keep me in check.”

You raise an eyebrow, amused. “Since when do you need someone to keep you in check?”

Soobin grins. “Since I started working with these guys. They like to drink. A lot.”

You laugh, but you agree to go. The thought of getting out of the house, doing something different, is appealing. Plus, you’re curious to meet the people Soobin spends his time with these days.

That night, you find yourself in a cozy, bustling restaurant, surrounded by Soobin and his coworkers. They’re a lively bunch, full of jokes and stories, and it doesn’t take long for you to feel at ease with them. The drinks start flowing almost as soon as you sit down, and before long, the whole group is in high spirits.

You find yourself laughing more than you have in weeks, the warmth of the alcohol spreading through your veins as you listen to Soobin’s coworkers tell ridiculous stories about him. Soobin, for his part, takes it all in stride, grinning sheepishly as his friends poke fun at him.

At some point, the conversation turns to confessions—nothing too serious, just silly admissions brought on by the alcohol. One of Soobin’s coworkers, a guy named Jisoo, starts it off, confessing that he once got caught sneaking into his girlfriend’s house by her parents, who thought he was a burglar. The table erupts in laughter, and soon everyone’s sharing their own embarrassing stories.

When it’s Soobin’s turn, he hesitates, glancing at you with a mischievous grin. “Alright, but you can’t judge me too harshly, okay?”

You raise your glass, already giggling. “No promises.”

He rolls his eyes, but there’s a smile tugging at his lips. “Fine. So… back in high school, I had the biggest crush on someone, and I spent an entire year pretending to be terrible at math just so she’d tutor me.”

The table bursts into laughter, but the alcohol and thoughts in your mind start suddenly swirling around rapidly. Didn’t you give him algebra lessons in 10th grade? Maybe he’s talking about someone else…

“Did it work?” someone asks.

Soobin shrugs, feigning nonchalance. “I passed algebra, didn’t I?”

The laughter continues, and you feel a strange warmth in your chest, and his added comment only continues to make your mind race. The night goes on, and the drinks keep coming, until you’re all a little too tipsy, the world spinning just enough to make everything feel surreal. The drinks have taken off the edge about Soobin’s comments, for a little while at least.

At some point, Soobin leans in close, his breath warm against your ear as he whispers, “You know, I really did have a crush on you back then.”

You blink, surprised by the sudden confession, but before you can respond, he pulls back, his eyes a little unfocused as he gives you a lopsided grin. “Too much to drink, huh?”

You smile softly, your heart pounding in your chest. “I guess so,” you breath out, the word increasing its spinning around you but you’re not convinced it’s because of the alcohol anymore.

He chuckles, but there’s a vulnerability in his eyes that you’ve never seen before. “Maybe.”

The moment hangs between you, charged with an intensity that’s almost too much to bear. But before anything else can happen, Soobin’s head lolls to the side, his eyes slipping shut as he mumbles something incoherent.

“Great,” you mutter, half-amused, half-exasperated as you try to shake him awake. “Soobin, come on, don’t pass out on me now.”

But he’s out cold, his breathing steady as he slumps against the table. You sigh, realizing there’s no way you’re getting him home by yourself. With a resigned smile, you pull out your phone and call Beomgyu.

He answers on the second ring, sounding more amused than concerned when you explain the situation. “Of course, he passed out. Why am I not surprised?”

“Just hurry up and get over here,” you say, rolling your eyes. “I can’t carry him by myself.”

Beomgyu arrives a short while later, looking entirely too amused by the situation as he takes in the sight of Soobin slumped over the table. “Wow, he’s really out, huh?”

“Yeah,” you say, trying not to laugh as you stand up. “Think you can handle him?”

Beomgyu snorts. “Do I have a choice?”

With some effort, the two of you manage to get Soobin on his feet, though he’s mostly dead weight, mumbling incoherently as you half-drag, half-carry him out of the restaurant. The fresh air hits you like a shock, clearing your head just enough to realize how ridiculous this all is.

“This is a disaster,” you mutter, struggling to keep Soobin upright as Beomgyu does most of the heavy lifting.

Beomgyu chuckles. “It’s a disaster you walked right into.”

Before long, you realize that even with Beomgyu’s help, getting Soobin all the way back home is going to be nearly impossible. You try to be optimistic, but when Soobin starts to slip from your grasp, you realize you need reinforcements.

“I think we need to call Ryujin,” you admit reluctantly, pulling out your phone again.

Beomgyu groans. “Do we have to?”

You can’t help but laugh, the absurdity of the situation hitting you all at once. “We don’t have a choice, Gyu. I can barely keep him up, and you’re not exactly faring much better.”

Reluctantly, Beomgyu agrees, and you call Ryujin, who answers after a few rings, sounding half-asleep but entirely too eager to hear about your predicament. After a quick explanation, she promises to be there in a few minutes.

When Ryujin arrives, she takes one look at the situation and bursts out laughing. “Oh my God, I knew you two couldn’t handle this on your own.”

“Not helping, Ryujin,” Beomgyu grumbles, though there’s a smile on his face.

Together, the three of you somehow manage to get Soobin back to his place, collapsing into a heap of laughter and exhaustion once he’s safely on his bed. By then, the humor of the situation has fully set in, and you’re all giggling uncontrollably, the night’s events replaying in your minds.

Finally, when the laughter dies down, Ryujin nudges you playfully. “So, what was that about Soobin confessing his high school crush?”

Your cheeks flush, and you try to deflect, but Ryujin is relentless, teasing you mercilessly as Beomgyu joins in. It’s all in good fun, though, and you can’t help but feel a warmth in your chest, a sense of belonging that you’ve missed more than you realized.

Eventually, the night winds down, and you all head home, leaving Soobin to sleep off his hangover. As you climb into bed, you can’t help but replay the night’s events in your mind, the memory of Soobin’s confession lingering in your thoughts.

It’s been a long time since you felt this way, and despite everything that’s happened, you can’t help but wonder what the future might hold.

You wake up to a dull throb in your head, the remnants of last night's drinks still pulsing behind your temples. Your room is far too bright, and you curse yourself for not closing the curtains before collapsing into bed.

You glance at the clock on your nightstand. It’s already late morning, far later than you usually sleep, but considering the amount you drank last night, it’s a miracle you’re awake at all. Groggily, you swing your legs out of bed and stand, feeling the slight wobble in your knees as your body adjusts to being upright.

The house is quiet as you pad downstairs, the wooden steps creaking softly under your weight. The smell of coffee hits you as you enter the kitchen, and you sigh in relief. Your parents must already be up. Sure enough, you find a pot of freshly brewed coffee on the counter, a few mugs stacked neatly beside it. You pour yourself a cup, cradling it between your hands as you savor the warmth seeping into your skin.

After a few sips, you feel more human, the caffeine doing its job. Now that you’re awake and somewhat functional, you start rifling through the fridge and pantry, searching for the ingredients you need. You’ve made hangover soup enough times to know the recipe by heart, and it isn’t long before you have everything laid out on the counter.

As the soup simmers on the stove, filling the kitchen with its comforting aroma, you smile to yourself. Soobin is in for a rude awakening, but you know he’ll appreciate it in the end. With that thought in mind, you grab a spoon and taste the broth, nodding in satisfaction at the flavor.

Once the soup is done, you ladle it into a bowl, then take a deep breath and head to the house across from your own, belonging to the Choi’s. You knock lightly on the door at first, then a bit louder when you don’t hear any response. A moment later, Soobin’s mom opens the door, a surprised smile on her face.

“Y/N! What a lovely surprise,” she says warmly, stepping aside to let you in. “I didn’t expect to see you this early. How are you feeling?”

“Morning, Mrs. Choi,” you greet her with a smile. “I’m okay, just a little hungover. I figured Soobin might need this more than I do, though.”

She glances down at the bowl in your hands and chuckles. “Hangover soup? You’re such a thoughtful girl. He’s still asleep, of course, but I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.”

You step inside, the familiar scent of the house comforting in a way that makes you feel instantly at ease. “I’m going to wake him up now,” you say, feeling a little mischievous. “He’s had enough sleep.”

“Good luck with that,” Mrs. Choi says with a knowing smile. “He can be a bit grumpy in the mornings, especially after a night out.”

You grin. “I’m counting on it.”

Heading upstairs, you push open Soobin’s bedroom door with your hip, balancing the bowl in one hand. The room is dark, the curtains drawn tightly shut, and Soobin is sprawled out on his bed, completely dead to the world. He’s lying on his stomach, one arm dangling off the side of the bed, his hair a tousled mess. 

You set the bowl down on his nightstand, taking a moment to appreciate how peaceful he looks when he’s sleeping. But only a moment. You can’t resist. Reaching out, you grab his pillow and whack him over the head with it—not too hard, but enough to jolt him awake.

He groans, a low sound of protest, but doesn’t move. So you hit him again, a little harder this time, just for good measure.

“Soobin, get up!” you say, your voice tinged with amusement. “I made you breakfast.”

He mumbles something incoherent, burying his face deeper into the pillow. You roll your eyes, leaning down to speak directly into his ear.

“Choi Soobin, if you don’t get up right now, I’m going to eat all this soup myself.”

That seems to do the trick. He slowly lifts his head, squinting at you through bleary eyes. “Y/N? What… what time is it?”

“Time for you to wake up and eat,” you reply, smirking. “Come on, I’ve got hangover soup ready. You need it.”

Soobin groans again but finally drags himself into a sitting position, rubbing his eyes. He looks terrible—pale, with dark circles under his eyes, his hair sticking up in all directions—but you have to admit, there’s something endearing about seeing him like this. Vulnerable, almost.

“Ugh, my head is killing me,” he mutters, wincing as he swings his legs over the side of the bed.

“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you drink like a fish,” you tease, forcing him up and down the stairs. 

Once seated at the table, you pour him a bowl of soup before placing it down in front of him. “Here, this will help.”

He takes the bowl from you, staring down at it like it’s a lifeline. “You’re a lifesaver,” he says, his voice thick with gratitude.

“I know,” you reply with a grin, sitting down in front of him. “Now eat up before it gets cold.”

Soobin takes a tentative sip, then another, his expression softening as the warm broth soothes his hangover. “This is really good,” he mumbles between spoonfuls.

“I’ve had a lot of practice,” you say, your tone light but with an undercurrent of truth. You’ve made this soup more times than you can count, for yourself, for friends… for your ex. But you push that thought away before it can take root, focusing instead on Soobin.

As he eats, you chat idly about nothing in particular, keeping the conversation light. Soobin slowly comes back to life, the soup and your presence working their magic. He’s still a bit pale, but at least he’s awake and functional now.

Just as he’s finishing up, you hear footsteps approaching from the hallway, and a moment later, Soobin’s mom pokes her head into the room.

“How’s our patient?” she asks with a smile, looking between the two of you.

“He’s alive,” you reply, grinning at Soobin’s unamused expression. “Barely.”

Another set of footsteps sound in the hall behind as Soobin’s father suddenly appears, his face a mix of surprise and happiness as he spots his son and yourself seated at the kitchen table. Soobin’s mom has moved into the kitchen behind you now, getting started on breakfast.

“Y/N! I didn’t expect to see you this morning,” he says warmly. “How are you?”

“I’m good, Mr. Choi,” you reply, returning his smile. “Just thought I’d check on Soobin and make sure he was still alive.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Well, it’s a good thing you did. He always overdoes it when he goes out with his coworkers.”

“Morning, Dad,” Soobin mumbles, reaching for a piece of toast as his mother immediately sets the plate down on the table.

“Morning, son,” Mr. Choi replies, his tone amused. “Rough night?”

“You could say that,” Soobin mutters, shooting you a glare when you snicker. “Don’t think it was much for for Y/N either,” he responds, an amused smirk flashing upon his lips as he swiftly avoids your kick from underneath the table.

As you all start eating breakfast, the conversation flows easily, punctuated by laughter and light teasing. You’ve always felt comfortable around Soobin’s parents—they’ve known you since you were a kid, after all—and it feels good to be here, surrounded by the warmth of family, even if it’s not your own.

“So, Y/N,” Mrs. Choi says at one point, turning to you with a curious expression. “How long are you planning to stay in town this time?”

You pause, the question catching you off guard. You haven’t really thought that far ahead, and the uncertainty of your answer weighs heavily on your mind.

“Um, I’m not sure yet,” you reply honestly, forcing a small smile. “I’m just taking things one day at a time.”

Mrs. Choi nods understandingly, reaching out to pat your hand. “That’s perfectly fine, dear. You’re always welcome here, you know that.”

“Thank you,” you say, genuinely touched by her kindness. “That means a lot.”

The conversation shifts after that, and you’re grateful for it. As much as you appreciate the Choi family’s concern, you’re not ready to delve into the reasons behind your return just yet.

As breakfast winds down, Soobin stands up to clear the table, but you’re not about to let him off the hook that easily. When he passes by you with a stack of plates, you subtly stick your foot out, and before he realizes what’s happening, he trips, stumbling forward with a startled yelp.

He catches himself before he falls, but not without glaring at you, his eyes narrowed in mock anger. “Really?”

You flash him an innocent smile. “What? I didn’t do anything.”

His parents watch the exchange with amused smiles, clearly enjoying the banter between the two of you. “Careful, Y/N,” Mr. Choi says with a chuckle. “He might actually get you back for that one.”

You laugh, already stepping out of Soobin’s reach as he finishes clearing the table. “He can try,” you say, still grinning.

Soobin just shakes his head, clearly exasperated, but you can see the fondness in his eyes as he glances at you. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re predictable,” you retort, dodging under his arm as he reaches out to flick your forehead. 

The rest of the morning passes in a haze of laughter and lighthearted teasing. After breakfast, you help Soobin’s mom with the dishes, the two of you chatting about everything and nothing. Soobin joins in occasionally, but mostly, he just listens from his stance half standing and half supporting his weight on the kitchen counter, still recovering from last night’s blackout.

For a while, it feels like nothing has changed, like you’ve slipped back into the easy life you’ve always had with Soobin and his family. It’s a comforting thought, one that brings a sense of peace you haven’t felt in a long time. And one that allows you to forget about what Soobin said last night, for just a moment.

As you finish up the last of the dishes, you glance over at Soobin, who’s lounging on the couch in the living room, his head resting on the back of the couch, eyes closed.

“You okay over there?” you call out, drying your hands on a dish towel.

He cracks one eye open, giving you a lazy smile. “Yeah, just trying to recover from the abuse you put me through this morning.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “You’re such a drama queen.”

He just grins, not even bothering to argue. “Yeah, but you love it.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips. Maybe he’s right—maybe you do love this, being here with him, with his family. Maybe, just maybe, this is exactly what you needed.

The summer sun hangs low in the sky, casting long shadows across the quiet neighborhood. You sit at the kitchen table, absently stirring a cup of tea that’s long since gone cold. The house feels still, too still, as if it’s holding its breath, waiting for something to happen. You’ve managed to avoid any serious conversations with your mom since you returned home, but time has eventually caught up to you. 

Your mom enters the room, wiping her hands on a dish towel. She glances at you, then at the untouched tea, her brow furrowing slightly. “Y/N, are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you lie, offering her a small smile that doesn’t reach your eyes.

She doesn’t buy it. Of course, she doesn’t. She’s your mother, after all. She sighs, crossing the room to sit across from you, her gaze gentle but probing. “You’ve been back for weeks now, and you still haven’t told us what really happened in Seoul. You left so suddenly, without any explanation. Your father and I… we’re worried about you, sweetheart.”

You swallow hard, the knot in your throat tightening. You knew this was coming, but that doesn’t make it any easier. “Mom, I just… I needed a break. Things weren’t going well, and I thought it would be good to come home for a while.”

Her eyes narrow slightly, sensing the evasiveness in your tone. “Not going well? You mean with your job? Or… was it something else?” She pauses, her voice softening further. “Y/N, was it Daehyun?”

The mention of him sends a pang through your chest, but you force yourself to stay composed. “We broke up,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. It’s technically the truth, even if it’s not the whole story.

Your mom’s expression shifts, a mix of concern and confusion crossing her features. “You broke up? Why? I thought you two were serious. You were always talking about him, about how he was the one.”

You look down at your hands, fingers twisting in your lap. “We were serious. But… things change, Mom. We just weren’t right for each other anymore.”

She shakes her head, clearly not satisfied with that answer. “What do you mean, ‘not right for each other’? Did something happen? Did he do something?”

You shake your head quickly, too quickly. “No, it wasn’t like that. We just… grew apart, I guess. It happens.”

Your mom’s eyes narrow further, the doubt clear in her gaze. “Grew apart? That doesn’t sound like a reason to just up and leave everything behind. You quit your job, Y/N. You loved that job. You loved your life in Seoul. And now you’re telling me you threw it all away because of some vague ‘growing apart’?”

“Mom, please,” you plead, your voice shaking. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

But she doesn’t relent. “You can’t just run away from your problems, Y/N. If something happened, you need to face it. You need to tell me what’s really going on.”

“I told you, we broke up!” you snap, your patience wearing thin. “I needed to get away, so I came home. That’s it.”

Your mom’s frustration finally boils over. “That’s it? That’s all you have to say? You broke up, so you threw your entire life away? You’re being ridiculous, Y/N! You had everything going for you—your career, your relationship—and you just walked away without a second thought?”

“I didn’t have a choice!” you yell, the words spilling out before you can stop them. But you can’t take them back now, and the look of shock on your mom’s face only fuels the anger burning inside you. “You don’t understand, Mom. You don’t know what it was like.”

“Then help me understand!” she shouts back, standing up from the table. “You can’t just expect us to sit here and watch you fall apart without knowing why!”

Tears sting your eyes, but you blink them back, refusing to let them fall. “I didn’t fall apart,” you say through gritted teeth. “I’m fine. I’m trying to move on, and you’re not making it any easier.”

“Move on?” she scoffs. “You’re not moving on, Y/N. You’re running away, and you’re dragging us into it with you. You can’t just quit when things get tough. That’s not how life works!”

The dam finally breaks, and the tears spill over, hot and angry. “I was miserable for so long!” you cry, pushing back from the table. “You don’t know what I went through, and you never will because I can’t—” You choke on the words, unable to finish the sentence.

Your mom’s expression softens slightly, but the anger is still there, simmering beneath the surface. “Y/N, whatever it is, you can tell me. I’m your mother. I just want to help you.”

But the anger has taken hold of you now, and you can’t stop the words from tumbling out. “I can’t! You’ll never understand what it’s like to have your whole world ripped apart by someone you thought you could trust!”

Her face pales, the realization dawning on her as she finally grasps the gravity of what you’re saying. “Y/N… what did he do to you?”

You can’t answer. The words are stuck in your throat, choking you as the pain of it all comes rushing back. You can’t tell her the truth, can’t bear to see the look of pity and disappointment in her eyes.

Without another word, you turn and bolt for the door, the need to escape overwhelming. You can hear your mom calling after you, but you don’t stop. You can’t stop. You burst out of the house, tears blurring your vision as you run down the driveway.

And that’s when you run straight into someone, nearly knocking them over. You stumble back, wiping at your eyes to see who it is.

Soobin stands there, his expression a mix of shock and concern. He’s holding a small basket, likely something his mom sent him over with, but he’s clearly forgotten all about it as he stares at you.

“Y/N? What happened?” he asks, his voice soft, like he’s afraid you’ll break if he speaks too loudly.

You shake your head, trying to brush past him, but he gently grabs your arm, stopping you. “Wait, just… slow down. Talk to me.”

You can’t. You can’t talk to him, can’t even look at him without feeling like you’re going to fall apart. But the gentleness in his voice, the warmth in his touch, it’s too much. You can’t hold it in any longer.

You sprint down the street, the sound of your mother’s angry words still echoing in your ears. Your vision blurs with tears as you race toward the park, the one that sits just at the edge of the neighborhood where you spent so many summers playing with Beomgyu, Soobin, and Ryujin. It feels like you’re running from more than just the fight—like you’re running from everything you’ve been trying to hold together since you came back home.

The park is quiet, almost eerily so. The swings sway gently in the evening breeze, the only movement in the otherwise still space. You stumble to a stop by the playground, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you collapse onto the sidewalk, your legs unable to carry you any farther. Hugging your knees to your chest, you finally let the tears fall, your sobs quiet but intense, the weight of everything you’ve been bottling up crashing down on you all at once.

You don’t hear him approaching, but you sense Soobin before you see him, the sound of his hurried footsteps catching your attention. He’s out of breath, clearly having run after you the moment you bolted from the house. He doesn’t say anything at first, just stops a few feet away, his eyes searching your face with a mix of concern and sadness.

“Y/N…” he starts softly, taking a cautious step closer. “Come on… What happened back there?”

You don’t answer right away, too overwhelmed to speak. But Soobin doesn’t push. He just sinks down onto the sidewalk beside you, his presence solid and steady, like a lifeline you didn’t know you needed. The silence between you stretches, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s like he’s giving you the space to find your words, to figure out what to say.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you take a shaky breath and start talking. “I left because of him,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “My boyfriend… my ex. He cheated on me.”

The words hang in the air, heavy with pain and betrayal. You can feel Soobin tense beside you, his hands curling into fists on his knees. But he stays quiet, letting you continue at your own pace.

“I found out a few months ago,” you say, your voice trembling as the memories flood back. “He’d been seeing someone else for weeks, maybe longer. I don’t even know how long it was going on. I just… I couldn’t stay after that. I couldn’t be around him, or our friends, or… or anything that reminded me of him. So, I left.”

The tears come harder now, spilling down your cheeks as you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to block out the images of him with someone else, the lies he told you, the way everything fell apart so quickly. “I quit my job because I couldn’t focus. I couldn’t do anything without thinking about him, about what he did. I felt like I was drowning, and I didn’t know how to keep going. I didn’t sleep or eat for days at a time. I wasn’t taking care of myself and… well it was either this or me going completely under. So, I ran away. I thought if I came back here, if I was with my family, I could start over. But it’s not that simple. It’s never that simple.”

Your voice cracks, the weight of everything you’ve been carrying finally too much to bear. You can’t hold it together anymore. The sobs wrack your body, and you bury your face in your hands, feeling utterly broken.

Soobin doesn’t say anything, but you feel his arm wrap around your shoulders, pulling you close. He holds you tightly, his grip firm and reassuring as he lets you cry into his chest. His other hand rubs soothing circles on your back, his touch gentle but grounding, like he’s trying to anchor you to the present, to keep you from getting lost in the storm of your emotions.

“You didn’t deserve that,” he says quietly, his voice rough with emotion. “None of this is your fault, Y/N. You did what you had to do to survive. Don’t ever feel ashamed of that.”

You want to believe him, want to take comfort in his words, but it’s hard. The pain is still so raw, so overwhelming. But being here with Soobin, feeling his warmth, his steady presence, it helps. It makes the hurt just a little more bearable.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, the words barely making it past your lips.

“What are you sorry for?” Soobin asks, his tone soft and confused.

“For everything,” you say, your voice shaking. “For not telling anyone, for shutting everyone out. For being so weak. I just didn’t want to be looked at like that girl anymore. I don’t think I can take it.”

“Hey,” Soobin says, gently tilting your chin up so you’re forced to meet his gaze. “You’re not weak. You’re one of the strongest people I know. You’ve been through hell, and you’re still standing. That’s not weakness, Y/N. That’s strength.”

His words hit you hard, the sincerity in his eyes making it impossible to dismiss them. He means it—he really believes you’re strong, even when you don’t believe it yourself.

You nod, swallowing hard as you try to calm your breathing, your tears finally slowing. It’s not much, but it’s enough for now. Enough to make you feel a little less alone, a little less like you’re drowning.

“Thank you,” you whisper, leaning into his embrace, letting yourself take comfort in his presence.

Soobin just squeezes you a little tighter, resting his chin on top of your head. “You don’t have to thank me. I’m here, Y/N. I’ll always be here for you, no matter what.”

You stay like that for a while, the two of you sitting on the sidewalk in the quiet park, the world around you fading into the background. For the first time in a long time, you feel like you can breathe again, like the weight on your chest has lifted just a little.

Eventually, you pull back slightly, wiping at your tear-streaked face. Soobin watches you with that familiar mix of concern and fondness, his eyes soft as he takes in your expression.

“Do you want to go back?” he asks gently, nodding toward the direction of your house. “Or we can stay here for a bit longer if you need more time.”

You glance around the park, the memories of your childhood flooding back in a rush of nostalgia. This place has always been a refuge for you, a place where you felt safe. And now, with Soobin by your side, it still feels that way.

“Maybe just a little longer,” you say quietly, your voice steadier now. “I’m not ready to face her yet.”

He nods in understanding, his hand finding yours and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere.”

And with that, the two of you sit in the fading light, side by side, the comforting silence between you speaking more than words ever could.

The weeks that follow your tearful confession in the park pass in a blur of change and acceptance. You finally muster the courage to tell your family the whole story, no longer holding back the pain and betrayal you’d been carrying alone. Your mother, after her initial shock and anger, softens as she listens to the truth of what happened in Seoul. The harsh words you exchanged that night seem distant now, replaced by an understanding that’s long overdue.

Your father, though quiet during your confession, offers you a comforting hug afterward, his voice filled with warmth as he reassures you that you’re home, and that’s what matters. Beomgyu is the easiest to talk to—his playful teasing makes it easier to break the tension, and soon, you find yourself laughing with him like old times.

Telling Ryujin is harder. You’ve always been able to rely on her, but admitting how broken you felt, even to your best friend, is difficult. But Ryujin listens without judgment, her eyes filled with the fierce loyalty you’ve always admired in her. When you finish, she wraps you in a tight hug and tells you that you’re stronger than you think, and that she’s proud of you for coming home.

As the days turn into weeks, you start to accept that Gwangcheon is where you’re going to be for a while. It’s not Seoul, but there’s a comfort in the familiar streets, the warm smiles of the people you’ve known your whole life, and the gentle pace of small-town living.

With Soobin’s help, and through one of his friends, you land a job at a good company nearby. It’s not the high-powered position you left behind in Seoul, but it’s steady work, and you find yourself gradually falling into a new routine. Your days become a mix of work, spending time with your family, and reconnecting with old friends.

The more time you spend with Soobin, Ryujin, and Beomgyu, the more you start to feel like yourself again. You laugh more easily, the pain of your past starting to dull as the present takes over. You’re still cautious, still a little guarded, but the walls you built around yourself are slowly coming down.

As summer draws to a close, Ryujin suggests a trip to a nearby beach town for a late summer getaway. It’s been a while since you’ve done something spontaneous, and the idea of a weekend away with your closest friends is too tempting to resist.

The four of you—Ryujin, Beomgyu, Soobin, and you—pile into Beomgyu’s car early one Saturday morning, the air filled with excitement as you drive toward the coast. The weather is perfect, the sun shining brightly in a cloudless sky, and the anticipation of a carefree weekend ahead makes everything feel lighter.

When you arrive, the small beach town is bustling with tourists, the streets lined with colorful shops and restaurants. You check into a charming seaside inn, your room offering a stunning view of the ocean. The salty breeze and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore immediately put you at ease.

For the first day, you decide to hit the beach. You slip into a light, flowing sundress with thin straps that tie at your shoulders, the fabric swaying gently in the breeze. It’s a pale yellow, the color brightening your complexion.

The four of you spend the day lounging on the sand, swimming in the crystal-clear water, and playing beach volleyball. Beomgyu and Soobin are a hilarious team, their competitive streaks coming out in full force, while you and Ryujin try to keep up, laughing so hard you can barely hit the ball back.

As the sun begins to set, you take a walk along the shoreline with Soobin. The air is cooler now, and you’ve changed into a pair of denim shorts and a loose, sleeveless top that flutters in the breeze. Soobin, in his usual casual style, wears a plain white T-shirt and board shorts. The two of you walk in comfortable silence for a while, the waves gently lapping at your feet.

“I’m glad you came,” Soobin says quietly, breaking the silence. He glances at you, his expression soft in the fading light. “I’ve missed this… missed us hanging out like this.”

“Me too,” you reply, your heart skipping a beat at the sincerity in his voice. “It’s nice to just… be. No pressure, no expectations. Just us.”

There’s a pause, and then you both stop walking, turning to face each other. The tension between you has been growing stronger with each passing day, and it’s undeniable now. You notice the way his eyes linger on you, how his hand brushes against yours as you stand there, the space between you shrinking with every breath.

“Soobin…” you start, but you don’t know how to finish the sentence. You’re not sure what you want to say—what you need to say.

He looks at you, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, with a small smile, he reaches out and gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers grazing your cheek. The touch sends a shiver down your spine, and you feel your heart racing in your chest.

“I’m here, Y/N,” he says softly, his voice steady and sure. “Whenever you’re ready, I’m here.”

The moment is so charged, so full of potential, that it feels like time has stopped. You find yourself leaning into him, drawn to the comfort and warmth he offers, but before anything more can happen, Ryujin’s voice calls out from the distance, breaking the spell.

You both step back, the tension between you still thick in the air, but the moment has passed. You force a smile, trying to shake off the nerves that are buzzing under your skin.

“We should head back,” you say, your voice a little too bright. “They’re probably wondering where we are.”

Soobin nods, and without another word, the two of you start walking back toward the inn. But even as you rejoin Ryujin and Beomgyu, the electricity between you and Soobin doesn’t fade. Instead, it lingers, a constant undercurrent that makes your heart beat just a little faster every time your eyes meet, every time your hands brush against each other.

That night, after a dinner filled with laughter and more teasing from Beomgyu and Ryujin, you find yourself sitting on the inn’s balcony with Soobin. The others have already gone to bed, exhausted from the day’s activities, but neither of you seems ready to end the night.

The stars are bright in the clear sky, and the sound of the waves is soothing as you sit together, wrapped in a shared blanket to ward off the evening chill. You’re wearing a soft, oversized sweater, and Soobin has a hoodie on, the two of you huddled close for warmth.

For a while, you talk about everything and nothing— jobs, childhood memories, the places they’d like to visit one day. But eventually, the conversation drifts to more personal matters.

“So… what’s next for you?” Soobin asks quietly, his gaze fixed on the horizon. “Now that you’re settling in, do you have any plans?”

You hesitate, not because you don’t know the answer, but because you’re afraid to voice it. “I’m not sure,” you admit. “I’ve been thinking about staying in Gwangcheon for a while, maybe longer than I originally planned. It’s… it’s starting to feel like home again.”

Soobin smiles at that, a warmth spreading through you at the sight. “I’m glad,” he says. “It’s good to have you back, Y/N. I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” you reply softly, your heart swelling with emotion. There’s so much more you want to say, but the words get caught in your throat. Instead, you lean your head on his shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath under your cheek.

Soobin’s hand finds yours under the blanket, his fingers lacing with yours in a way that feels both familiar and new. The touch is comforting, grounding you in the moment. You sit like that for a long time, neither of you saying anything, just content to be close.

But as the night wears on, the tension between you becomes harder to ignore. Every time you shift slightly, your legs brushing against his, it feels like a spark of electricity zips through you. The quiet, intimate atmosphere only amplifies the connection that’s been building for weeks, and you can’t help but wonder if he feels it too.

Finally, you turn your head to look up at him, finding him already gazing down at you. The intensity in his eyes takes your breath away, and for a moment, you think he might kiss you. Your heart pounds in your chest, anticipation coiling tight in your stomach as you tilt your face up, waiting…

But just when it feels like something monumental is about to happen, Soobin pulls back slightly, his expression conflicted. He lets out a slow breath, breaking the moment. “We should get some sleep,” he murmurs, his voice husky.

You’re disappointed, but also relieved. You may have felt something for Soobin during your youth, but you had not expected any sort of remaining spark between the two of you upon moving back. It’s a mixture of conflicting feelings: comfort, fear, desire, and enough more to dizzy you.

But even as you part for the night, there’s an unspoken understanding between you— that this moment isn’t an ending but rather just a momentary pause.

The next morning, the four of you wake early to catch the sunrise on the beach. The air is crisp and cool, the sky painted in hues of pink and gold as the sun peeks over the horizon. You feel a sense of peace, standing there with your closest friends, the tension from the night before easing into something more hopeful.

As you pack up and head home later that day, you can’t help but feel like this trip was a turning point. For the first time in a long time, you’re looking forward to the future. And though you don’t know exactly where things with Soobin will go, you feel both compelled and terrified to find out. 

The weeks after your beach getaway with Soobin, Ryujin, and Beomgyu pass in a blur of cozy evenings and lingering touches. The tension between you and Soobin has become almost palpable, an undercurrent that hums beneath every interaction. You find yourself gravitating toward him, seeking out his presence in ways that feel both natural and inevitable.

It starts with late-night talks, the two of you sitting on the porch of your house or his, wrapped in blankets as the night air grows cooler. The conversations are deep, touching on everything from your childhood dreams to the fears that keep you up at night. Soobin listens with a quiet intensity that makes you feel heard in a way you haven’t felt in a long time. Sometimes, when the conversation drifts to a comfortable lull, his hand will find yours, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin, and the simple touch sends shivers down your spine.

As fall begins to creep in, the annual town festival is the talk of Gwangcheon. It’s a tradition that dates back decades, a celebration of the harvest season with food stalls, games, and music that bring the whole town together. Despite Soobin’s protests about it being the “same old thing every year,” you manage to drag him along with you, promising that it will be fun.

“You say that every year,” Soobin grumbles as you walk through the festival grounds, his hand intertwined with yours. The evening air is crisp, carrying the scent of roasted chestnuts and spiced cider. “But it’s just a bunch of food stalls and cheesy games.”

You roll your eyes, nudging him playfully with your shoulder. “You’re such a grouch. Admit it, you secretly love this stuff.”

He huffs, but you catch the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “Maybe I just like watching you get excited about it.”

You smile, your heart warming at the admission. The truth is, you do love the festival, not just for the nostalgia it brings but because it feels like a part of your roots—a reminder of the simpler times before everything got so complicated.

The festival is in full swing by the time you arrive. Strings of warm, twinkling lights hang overhead, and the sound of laughter and music fills the air. You and Soobin wander through the crowded streets, stopping at various stalls to sample local treats and play a few games. You end up with a small plush bear from a ring toss game, a prize that Soobin wins for you after several failed attempts.

“See? Told you this would be fun,” you say, beaming as you hug the bear to your chest.

Soobin just shakes his head, a soft smile playing on his lips as he watches you. “You’re impossible,” he mutters, but there’s no bite in his words.

As the night goes on, you run into Beomgyu and Ryujin near the center of the festival grounds, where a makeshift dance floor has been set up. The four of you spend some time chatting and catching up, reminiscing about past festivals and sharing updates on each other’s lives. The atmosphere is light and joyful, a perfect escape from the weight of everything else.

At one point, Ryujin drags you into a dance, the two of you twirling and laughing while Soobin and Beomgyu look on in amusement. It feels good to let go, to simply enjoy the moment without any worries.

Eventually, you and Soobin find yourselves walking hand in hand again, wandering away from the crowd to a quieter part of the festival. The lights are dimmer here, the sounds of the festivities fading into the background. You can feel the warmth of his hand in yours, the closeness between you more pronounced than ever.

“So… what’s the verdict?” you ask, glancing up at him with a teasing smile. “Still think the festival’s boring?”

He looks down at you, his gaze softening. “Maybe it’s not so bad,” he concedes, his thumb rubbing slow circles on the back of your hand. “But only because you’re here.”

Your heart skips a beat at his words, the tension between you thickening as you come to a stop. The moment feels charged, like something is about to happen, and you find yourself leaning in closer, your breath hitching as his eyes flicker to your lips.

But before either of you can move, a voice interrupts the moment, shattering the intimacy between you.

“Y/N?”

The sound of your name, spoken in that familiar, deep voice, makes you freeze. You turn slowly, your heart dropping into your stomach as you see him—your ex-boyfriend, standing just a few feet away.

He looks almost the same as he did the last time you saw him, tall and handsome with that same confident aura that used to draw you in. But now, all you feel is a cold dread pooling in your chest.

“Daehyun…” you breathe, barely able to get the word out.

His eyes flick from you to Soobin, who is still holding your hand, his expression hardening as he takes in the sight. There’s a tense silence, the air between the three of you crackling with unspoken words and unresolved feelings.

“So, this is why you left Seoul?” Daehyun’s voice is sharp, accusatory, as he steps closer. “To play house in some small town with your high school friend?”

Soobin stiffens beside you, his grip on your hand tightening. “Watch it,” he warns, his voice low and dangerous.

But Daehyun ignores him, his gaze fixed on you. “I thought we were going to work things out, Y/N. But instead, you just… ran away?”

You feel a pang of guilt, the old wounds reopening at his words. But then you remember why you left in the first place—the lies, the betrayal, the hurt he caused you. The memories flood back, and with them, a surge of anger and resolve.

“I didn’t run away, Daehyun,” you say, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside you. “I left because you fucking cheated on me! Last time I checked, you didn’t want me anyway. Why are you even here?”

Daehyun’s expression falters, the confidence slipping for a moment. But then he scoffs, shaking his head and entirely avoiding your question. “You’re really going to throw away everything we had for… this?”

Before you can respond, Soobin steps in front of you, blocking Daehyun’s view. “She doesn’t owe you an explanation,” he says, his tone firm. “So why don’t you leave her alone?”

Before you can respond, Beomgyu and Ryujin arrive, their expressions shifting from carefree to protective in an instant as they assess the situation.

“Is there a problem here?” Beomgyu’s tone is light but laced with an underlying threat as he steps up beside Soobin, crossing his arms over his chest. Ryujin moves to your other side, her presence a comforting shield as she glares at Daehyun.

Daehyun scoffs, turning his attention back to you. “You’re really going to let them speak for you now? Is this what you’ve become?”

“Leave her alone, Daehyun,” Ryujin snaps, her eyes blazing with anger. “You’re not welcome here.”

For a moment, Daehyun looks like he might argue, but the combined glares of Soobin, Beomgyu, and Ryujin seem to weigh on him. He shakes his head, muttering something under his breath, and reluctantly takes a step back. “This isn’t worth it,” he mumbles, his gaze flickering to Soobin. “Have fun Y/N.”

With that, he finally turns and walks away, disappearing into the crowd, leaving a suffocating tension in his wake. 

As soon as Daehyun is out of sight, the energy shifts. The air feels heavy, charged with everything left unsaid between you and Soobin. He stands there, his hand still resting on your shoulder, but the warmth that once comforted you now feels like a burning reminder of the distance that’s crept between you in just a few short moments.

You search his face for some kind of reassurance, something to tell you that everything is okay between you. But all you find is a flicker of something—regret, maybe?—in his eyes before he steps back, dropping his hand to his side.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he says quietly, his voice barely audible above the festival noise. He’s looking anywhere but at you, his usual confidence and ease replaced by a discomfort that twists painfully in your chest.

“Wait, Soobin, you don’t have to—” you start, reaching out to stop him, but he’s already shaking his head, taking another step back.

“I need to go,” he mutters, the words clipped and hurried. “I’ll… I’ll see you around.”

And with that, he turns and walks away, leaving you standing there with your hand half-raised, the words you wanted to say caught in your throat. You watch his retreating figure, your heart pounding in your ears as the reality of what just happened sinks in.

When he disappears from sight, the weight of it all crashes down on you. Your knees feel weak, and you stumble to the nearest bench, dropping onto it as the tears you’ve been holding back finally spill over. You bury your face in your hands, the sobs wracking your body as the emotions you’ve been trying so hard to keep in check burst free.

You’re so caught up in your grief that you don’t notice Ryujin and Beomgyu returning until Ryujin’s voice cuts through the fog of your thoughts.

“Y/N?” Ryujin’s voice is laced with concern as she kneels beside you, her hand rubbing gentle circles on your back.

Beomgyu stands awkwardly to the side, his usual playful demeanor replaced by a worried frown. “Y/N, you don’t have to cry over him,” he says, trying to sound comforting. “Daehyun’s not worth it.”

You shake your head, unable to find the words to correct them. They think you’re crying because of Daehyun, that seeing him brought all the pain of your breakup to the surface. But it’s not Daehyun you’re crying over—it’s Soobin. It’s the way he looked at you like he couldn’t bear to be near you, like something had shifted irreparably between you, and the way he just left without a second glance, leaving you feeling more alone than ever.

But how can you explain that to them when you’re just now understanding it yourself? 

The realization hits you like a truck and you suddenly jump up, slightly unsteadily on your feet. But it’s not really a realization after all. It’s something you’ve known deep down for a while. Forever, it feels like.

The world feels like it’s spinning, your thoughts tangled in a whirlwind of panic and desperation. You can barely hear Ryujin and Beomgyu’s voices through the haze of your own mind, their concerned words just background noise to the single, overwhelming thought that suddenly consumes you.

You need to find Soobin.

The tears are still streaming down your face, but you don’t care. The only thing that matters right now is reaching him, before this suffocating tension between you turns into an unbearable distance.

“Y/N, where are you going?” Ryujin calls after you, but you’re already running, your heart pounding in time with your frantic footsteps. 

You don’t answer her, your feet moving faster than your thoughts. You’re driven by pure instinct, by the gnawing need to fix this before it’s too late. Before you lose him.

His house isn’t far—it never has been—and it’s that familiarity that drives you faster. The image of his retreating back is burned into your mind, propelling you forward through the dimly lit streets of the neighborhood. The sound of your breath is loud in your ears, mingling with the rapid beat of your heart as you round the final corner and see his house come into view.

His house is dark except for the porch light, and a flicker of doubt crosses your mind. What if he doesn’t want to see you? What if he won’t even open the door? But you can’t stop now, not when you’re so close. You run up to the door, and without hesitation, you start banging on it with all your strength.

“Soobin!” Your voice cracks as you call out his name, your fists pounding against the wood, the desperation in your voice echoing through the quiet night. “Soobin, please, open the door!”

For a moment, nothing happens, and your heart sinks with each second that passes. But then, you hear the sound of footsteps inside, followed by the slow creak of the door opening.

When Soobin’s face comes into view, your breath catches in your throat. He looks surprised, his hair slightly disheveled, his expression a mix of concern and confusion. His gaze immediately locks onto your tear-streaked face, and the shock deepens.

“Y/N?” He frowns, his eyes flicking over your smudged makeup and tear-stained cheeks. “What are you—are you okay? Did… did he do something else? I thought he left.”

His voice is soft, laced with worry, and the way he’s looking at you—like you’re fragile, like you might break at any moment—only makes the tears well up in your eyes again. But it’s not because of Daehyun. It’s because of him.

You shake your head, trying to find the words, but they all come out in a frantic rush, jumbled together with your raw emotions. “No, it’s not—it’s not Daehyun, Soobin. It’s you. It’s always been you.”

He blinks, clearly taken aback by your words, but you don’t give him a chance to respond. The words pour out of you, all the things you’ve been holding back for so long, spilling over in your desperation to make him understand.

“I don’t care about Daehyun,” you continue, your voice trembling with the force of your feelings. “I never did, not the way I care about you. I dated him because I was trying to get away from these feelings, because I was scared of how much I liked you, because I thought… I thought maybe if I was with someone else, it would go away. But it didn’t. I just made everything worse.”

Soobin’s expression shifts from confusion to something softer, something that almost breaks your heart all over again. He opens his mouth to say something, but you’re not done yet.

“I thought I could just… run away from it, from you, by moving to Seoul, by throwing myself into a relationship that I didn’t even really want, but it was all a lie. Everything with Daehyun was just a distraction, a way to pretend like I didn’t want to be with you. But I did. I do.” You take a shaky breath, your heart pounding in your chest as you finally say the words that have been eating away at you for so long. “Soobin, I like you. I like you so much it hurts, and I’ve been pretending that I don’t for so long that I almost convinced myself it was true.”

There’s a silence that follows your confession, the kind that feels like it stretches on for an eternity. You can’t bear to look at him, to see the rejection you’re sure is coming, but you can’t look away either. 

Soobin doesn’t speak right away, his eyes searching your face, and you wonder if you’ve made the biggest mistake of your life. The silence between you is thick with tension, every second that passes weighing heavily on your chest.

Finally, he reaches out, his hand hesitating just inches from your cheek. When he finally cups your face, his touch is so gentle that it sends a shiver down your spine. His thumb brushes away a stray tear, and when he speaks, his voice is soft, almost disbelieving. “You… like me?”

You nod, unable to find your voice, your heart beating so loudly that you’re sure he can hear it.

For a moment, he just looks at you, his expression unreadable, and you brace yourself for the worst. But then, slowly, a small, almost tentative smile tugs at the corners of his lips.

“You idiot,” he murmurs, his tone affectionate, even as his words make your breath hitch. “You really thought I wouldn’t feel the same?”

Before you can even process what he’s saying, he’s pulling you inside, the door shutting behind you with a quiet click. The next thing you know, his hands are framing your face, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that makes your heart stutter.

Then, without another word, he’s kissing you, and it’s everything you’ve ever wanted and more. The kiss is desperate, hungry, like he’s been waiting for this moment just as long as you have. His lips move against yours with a fervor that leaves you breathless, his hands tangling in your hair as he pulls you closer, as if he can’t get enough.

You respond with equal intensity, your hands clutching at the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer until there’s no space left between you. Every pent-up emotion, every unspoken word, every lingering touch that you’ve shared over the years is poured into this kiss, and it’s overwhelming in the best way possible.

His hands slide down to your waist, gripping you tightly as he deepens the kiss, his lips and tongue exploring yours with a desperation that mirrors your own. It’s like everything else fades away—Daehyun, the fight with your mom, all the pain and confusion you’ve been carrying with you. All that matters is Soobin, his touch, his warmth, the way he’s holding you like you’re the most important thing in the world.

Soobin doesn't waste any time. His hand finds yours, fingers lacing together as he pulls you deeper into the house, the intensity between you building with every step. His other hand never leaves your waist, his thumb brushing back and forth in a way that sends shivers down your spine.

Your heart pounds in your chest as he leads you through the familiar hallway, your breaths coming faster with each second. The anticipation crackles between you, a living thing that makes your skin tingle and your pulse race. His grip on your hand tightens when you reach his room, and without breaking the kiss, he pushes the door open, guiding you inside.

The moment the door shuts behind you, his lips are on yours again, more desperate this time, as if he can't bear to be apart from you for even a second. He walks you backward toward the bed, his hands sliding from your waist up to your shoulders, then back down to your hips, pulling you closer until you're pressed against him.

Your back hits the edge of the bed, and he nudges you down onto it, his hands cupping your face as he hovers over you. His kiss is relentless, stealing your breath away as he leans in closer, his body pressing against yours with just enough weight to make you feel grounded in this moment.

You respond eagerly, your fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer as you arch up into him. Every touch, every kiss, is like a spark of electricity, igniting something deep within you. His lips trail down to your jaw, then to your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he presses soft, lingering kisses there. Each touch makes you melt further into the bed, your hands roaming over his back, feeling the solid muscle beneath your fingertips.

Soobin's breath hitches as you slide your hands up under his shirt, your fingers tracing the lines of his toned body. He pulls back just enough to pull his shirt over his head, tossing it aside before his lips find yours again, his kiss more heated, more urgent than before. He deepens the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours in a way that makes your toes curl, his hands roaming over your body, exploring every inch of you as if he's been waiting for this moment forever.

You lose yourself in him, in the way he touches you, the way he whispers your name against your lips like a prayer. The world outside his room fades away until it's just the two of you, tangled together in a mess of sheets and emotions. Every touch, every kiss, feels like a confession, an unspoken promise that this is just the beginning of something more.

“No more running,” he murmurs against the crown of your head, breathing in your scent he only could dream of being able to fully take in.

A smile curves its way onto your lips and you smile against his gentle touch, nodding as though there was not a single better thing he could suggest. Because there is nothing you would rather do than stay right here, the very place where a piece of you has always been and where you’ve always belonged.

thank you for reading! <3

[nextchae]

pen and point – lee heeseung

word count: 28.9k

pairing: lee heeseung x fem!reader

synopsis: Y/N is a dedicated fencing athlete whose life revolves around the sport, school, and her part-time job at a campus coffee shop. When Heeseung, a reserved journalism student with an eye for deeper stories, starts frequenting the shop, Y/N is intrigued but unsure of his intentions.

genre: 2521!modern au, slow-burn romance, college!au, fluff

playlist: add me <3

You push open the heavy door to your dorm building, the familiar creak echoing in the dimly lit hallway. It's well past midnight—much later than you meant to be out—but time always seems to slip away when you’re at the gym. Practice had run long tonight. The fencing team had been working on speed drills, refining the quick, explosive movements that define saber. You stayed after, like you usually do, pushing yourself just a little harder, staying just a little longer. 

The sharp scent of sweat still clings to your clothes, mingling with the cool night air as you step inside the lobby. The fluorescent lights hum softly above you, casting harsh shadows that stretch across the worn carpet. The weight of your gear bag pulls on your shoulder, a familiar and comforting burden. Your muscles ache, pleasantly tired from the evening’s exertion, and a small, satisfied smile tugs at the corners of your mouth. 

You reach your room at the end of the hall and fumble for your keys, trying to be as quiet as possible. Chaehyun, your roommate, is likely asleep by now, and you don’t want to wake her. She’s always been an early sleeper, a contrast to your habit of staying up late, either at the gym or cramming for an exam. After a moment of fumbling, the door finally gives, and you slip inside, greeted by the soft glow of fairy lights strung up on Chaehyun’s side of the room. The faint scent of lavender from her diffuser lingers in the air, instantly calming your nerves.

Chaehyun is already in bed, her back turned to you, her breathing slow and even. You’re relieved—no need to explain your late return. You quietly close the door behind you and drop your bag onto the floor by your bed, trying not to disturb the peace of the room. The day’s events replay in your mind as you start to peel off your sweat-soaked clothes, the adrenaline from practice still coursing through your veins.

You head straight for the small bathroom attached to your dorm room, craving the feel of warm water to wash away the grime and tension from your skin. The tiles are cold beneath your bare feet as you step inside, and you quickly strip out of the rest of your gear. The sight of your fencing jacket and mask, now discarded on the floor, makes you pause for a moment. You’ll have to clean and organize your equipment tomorrow; it’s important to keep everything in good condition. But for now, all you can think about is getting clean and finally crawling into bed.

The shower sputters to life, and you step under the stream of water, letting it cascade over your sore muscles. The warmth relaxes you, easing the stiffness in your shoulders and back. As you lather soap over your skin, you notice a faint bruise blossoming on your collarbone, a memento from a particularly hard hit you took during a bout earlier. You smile faintly, the pain a reminder of how far you’ve come since you first picked up a saber. You remember the early days when you could barely keep up, your reflexes too slow, your strikes too hesitant. But now, each mark on your skin feels like a badge of honor, proof of your dedication and growth.

Rinsing off, you let the water soothe you, your thoughts drifting to the upcoming match at the end of the week. It’s your first real test since joining the team—a chance to prove yourself, to show that you deserve your spot. The pressure is immense, but you thrive on it. You know that each practice, each extra hour spent honing your technique, brings you closer to your goal. 

After a few more minutes, you turn off the shower and wrap yourself in a towel, the cool air hitting your damp skin as you step out. You quickly dry off and pull on your pajamas, your body feeling lighter, cleaner, as if the shower washed away more than just the sweat and grime. 

When you re-enter the bedroom, Chaehyun is still fast asleep, her breathing a soft, steady rhythm in the quiet room. You move carefully, not wanting to disturb her as you gather your discarded clothes and gear, setting them aside to deal with in the morning. Sliding under the covers, you finally let yourself relax, sinking into the familiar comfort of your bed.

The room is quiet, save for the gentle hum of the air conditioning and the occasional rustle of Chaehyun shifting in her sleep. You close your eyes, letting the exhaustion of the day finally catch up with you. But your mind is still buzzing, not quite ready to let go of the day’s events. You think about the footwork drills, the intense focus required to outmaneuver your opponent, the satisfaction of a well-executed strike. 

As sleep begins to pull you under, your last thoughts are of the upcoming match. You’ve worked hard for this, sacrificed sleep and social time to be at your best. You tell yourself you’ll be ready, because you have to be. The competition is fierce, and there’s no room for hesitation. But as you drift off, you can’t help but feel a small surge of excitement. This is what you’ve been training for—your moment to shine.

The blaring of your alarm pulls you from the depths of sleep, but instead of waking up fully, you groggily reach out and fumble to turn it off, pulling the blanket over your head in an attempt to steal a few more precious minutes of rest. The warmth of your bed is too inviting, the soreness from last night's practice still lingering in your muscles. You tell yourself you’ll get up in just a moment, but the weight of exhaustion quickly pulls you back under.

A gentle but firm shake at your shoulder jerks you awake. You blink, your vision still blurry, to see Chaehyun hovering over you, her face etched with mild concern. 

“Y/N, it’s already 8:30. You’re going to be late,” she whispers, careful not to startle you too much, but there’s a sense of urgency in her voice.

You bolt upright, the words sinking in like a bucket of cold water. Your first class starts at 9:00, and it’s on the opposite side of campus. Panic sets in as you scramble out of bed, the blanket tangling around your legs, nearly sending you crashing to the floor.

“Why didn’t my alarm go off?” you mumble, though you know the answer—it did, and you ignored it.

“You turned it off,” Chaehyun says, already moving to your closet to help you find something to wear. “You’ve got fifteen minutes to get out the door. Hurry!”

Grabbing the first outfit you see, you throw it on without much thought, barely registering whether it matches. You run a hand through your hair, hoping it looks somewhat presentable, then grab your backpack, still half-packed from last night. 

“Thanks, Chaehyun. I owe you one,” you say breathlessly as you slip on your shoes.

“You owe me more than one at this point,” she teases with a grin, but she’s already pushing you out the door. “Now go! I’ll see you after class.”

You sprint down the hallway, your heart racing not just from the exertion but from the anxiety of being late. The morning air is crisp as you step outside, and you quickly break into a jog, weaving through the throngs of students making their way to class. The campus is already alive with activity, but you barely notice, your mind focused on one thing: getting to class on time.

You make it to the lecture hall just as the clock hits 9:03. The door is slightly ajar, and you carefully push it open, slipping inside as quietly as possible. The professor is already mid-sentence, her back turned to the class as she writes on the board. Relief washes over you when you realize she hasn’t noticed your late entrance. 

Moving swiftly, you make your way to your usual seat in the middle of the room, where Taehyun is already settled. He raises an eyebrow as you slide into the chair next to him, his expression a mix of curiosity and amusement. 

“Late night?” he whispers, leaning over so only you can hear.

“Something like that,” you mutter back, still trying to catch your breath. You pull out your notebook and pen, trying to look as though you’ve been there the whole time. The professor turns around, and you quickly avert your gaze to the front, pretending to be engrossed in her lecture.

Taehyun doesn’t let it go, though. “You’ve got bedhead,” he adds with a smirk, his voice just low enough that only you can hear. 

You resist the urge to groan, running a hand through your hair again in a futile attempt to smooth it down. “I overslept. Chaehyun had to wake me up,” you admit quietly, trying not to draw any attention.

He nods knowingly, but the teasing smile doesn’t leave his face. “You should start setting two alarms. Or three.”

“Noted,” you reply, rolling your eyes at him, though you can’t help but smile a little. It’s just Taehyun’s way—lighthearted teasing that helps take the edge off your morning’s chaos.

The rest of the class passes in a blur. You try to focus on the lecture, taking notes diligently, but your mind keeps drifting back to how close you came to missing it entirely. You’re grateful to have made it, but you know you need to be more careful. You can’t afford to slip up like this, especially with everything on your plate—classes, fencing, and trying to maintain some semblance of a social life.

When the lecture finally ends, you and Taehyun pack up your things and head out into the bustling hallway. The morning rush is in full swing, and you’re swept up in the tide of students moving from one class to the next.

“You heading to the dining hall?” Taehyun asks as you walk side by side.

“Yeah, I need some coffee,” you reply, still feeling the remnants of your rushed morning.

“Good call. Let’s go before it gets too crowded,” he says, steering you towards the main quad. 

As you walk, you mentally make a note to set multiple alarms for tomorrow. You’re not going to risk another close call like that again—especially not with the match coming up. It’s going to take everything you’ve got to stay on top of things, and you’re determined not to let anything slip through the cracks.

The cafeteria at your university in Seoul is bustling with activity as you and Taehyun navigate through the sea of students. The air is thick with the mingling scents of breakfast—steamed rice, kimchi, and a variety of side dishes that make your stomach grumble. Despite the rush, you manage to grab a tray, your eyes immediately seeking out the coffee station. You’re still groggy from your late wake-up call, and you need something strong to shake off the remnants of sleep.

As you pour yourself a cup of coffee, Taehyun leans in, his voice low but tinged with curiosity. “Did you hear about the mess in Professor Kim’s class yesterday?”

You shake your head, more focused on not spilling your drink. “No, what happened?”

“One of the new students—Jisoo, I think—completely froze during her presentation. She just stood there for what felt like forever before she managed to say anything. Everyone was cringing.”

You wince, imagining the awkwardness of the moment. “That’s rough. First-year nerves, I guess.”

“Yeah, but you know how intense Professor Kim can be. She just stared at her until she started talking,” Taehyun says with a slight shrug, clearly unimpressed. “I wouldn’t want to be in her shoes.”

You finally secure your coffee and follow Taehyun toward the seating area. You spot Chaehyun and Kai by a window, already seated with trays full of food. The sunlight filters through the glass, casting a warm glow over the table as you approach. Chaehyun waves you over, a subtle smile on her face, while Kai gives a nod of acknowledgment.

“Saved you a spot,” Chaehyun says as you sit down, her tone casual but welcoming. “How was the sprint across campus?”

“Exhausting,” you reply, setting down your tray and taking a sip of coffee. “Thanks for waking me up, by the way. I would’ve missed class if it weren’t for you.”

Chaehyun shrugs, a hint of amusement in her eyes. “You really should stop staying up so late. You’re not doing yourself any favors.”

“Right,” Kai chimes in, leaning back in his chair. “You’re going to burn out before midterms if you keep this up.”

You roll your eyes, though you know they’re right. Between fencing practice and trying to keep up with your classes, your sleep schedule has been all over the place. “I know, I know. I’ll try to get it together.”

The conversation shifts as you start eating, the atmosphere comfortable and unhurried. You’re only a few weeks into the semester, but already the rhythm of campus life has taken hold. The mix of early mornings, long lectures, and late-night study sessions is starting to feel familiar, even if it’s still a bit overwhelming.

“So, there’s some drama going on in the dorms,” Chaehyun says, her voice lowering slightly as if she’s about to share a secret. “You know Hyewon from our floor? She’s been caught sneaking into the guys’ side after curfew.”

Kai raises an eyebrow, his interest piqued. “For real? What’s she doing over there?”

“Rumor has it she’s been meeting some guy,” Chaehyun continues, her tone casual but clearly enjoying the storytelling. “Apparently, he’s a junior and in the film department. They’ve been trying to keep it quiet, but it’s not exactly a secret anymore.”

Taehyun snorts, shaking his head. “People need to be more careful. The RAs are cracking down this year, and everyone knows it.”

You listen, taking it all in, but you’re not as invested in the gossip as you might have been a few months ago. The newness of it all—new city, new school, new people—has worn off a bit, leaving you more focused on getting through the day-to-day challenges.

After a pause, Kai turns to you. “How’s training going? You’ve got that match coming up soon, right?”

You nod, finishing your coffee before answering. “It’s going well. Tough, but good. I just need to stay focused and not get distracted.”

“Easier said than done,” Chaehyun comments, but there’s no judgment in her tone—just a matter-of-fact acknowledgment of how things are.

“Yeah, but you’ve got this,” Taehyun adds, more sincerely. “Just don’t overthink it.”

You appreciate the support, even if you’re not entirely sure you believe it yourself. The competition here is fierce, and you know you’re going to have to give it everything you’ve got.

As you finish your breakfast, the conversation turns to lighter topics—an upcoming festival on campus, the latest drama on some popular TV show, and plans for the weekend. The weight of the morning’s rush has eased, replaced by the steady rhythm of another day at university.

When you finally leave the cafeteria, the four of you step out into the crisp morning air, the campus already alive with students heading to their next classes. Despite the lingering stress, you feel a small sense of contentment.

The coffee shop’s warm glow spills out onto the quiet street as you lock up your bike and make your way inside. The evening air is cool, and a slight breeze carries the scent of autumn leaves. The shop is tucked away just a block from campus, a cozy retreat where students often gather to study or unwind after a long day. You’ve been working here part-time since the semester started, and while the late shifts can be exhausting, there’s something comforting about the steady hum of the espresso machine and the soft murmur of customers in the background.

As you step behind the counter, your coworker Chaeyoung, a new friend who coincidentally is in the same major as you but one year older, gives you a quick nod before she heads out for the night. “It’s been pretty quiet today,” she says, pulling her jacket on. “Just a few regulars. You should have an easy shift.”

“Thanks, Chaeyoung. See you tomorrow,” you reply, tying your apron around your waist.

The evening crowd is usually a mix of familiar faces—students with their laptops open, working on assignments, and a few locals who stop by for a coffee on their way home. You recognize most of them, but there’s one regular who stands out, not because he’s particularly loud or noticeable, but because of the way he seems to blend into the background. 

He’s young, probably around your age, with dark hair that falls just slightly over his eyes. He always wears the same dark hoodie, the hood often pulled up, and he never lingers in the shop for long. He usually comes in during your late shifts, orders the same drink—a black coffee with a splash of milk—and leaves as soon as it’s ready. He’s yet to properly speak to you, other than the bare minimum required to place his order. 

Tonight, as you wipe down the counter and prepare for the next wave of customers, you hear the door chime softly. You glance up and, sure enough, there he is—standing just inside the entrance, his hands tucked into his hoodie pockets. His eyes flicker over the shop’s interior, as if checking to see how crowded it is, before he approaches the counter.

“Hi, what can I get for you?” you ask, slipping into your usual greeting, though you already know his answer.

“Just the usual,” he says, his voice low, almost inaudible beneath the hum of the shop.

You nod, moving to prepare his order. The shop is quiet tonight, with only a couple of other customers scattered at the tables, absorbed in their own worlds. As you work, you can’t help but wonder about him. He’s become a small mystery to you—a regular presence in your evenings, yet completely unknown.

The coffee machine hisses as you steam the milk, and within moments, his drink is ready. You place the cup on the counter, offering him a small smile as you do. “Here you go—black coffee with a splash of milk.”

He steps forward to take the cup, his fingers brushing yours briefly as he does. For a moment, you think he’s going to say something, but he just nods, murmuring a quick “thanks” before turning to leave.

“Hey,” you call out impulsively, surprising even yourself. He pauses, glancing back at you, his expression unreadable. “I see you in here a lot. Do you go to the university?”

It’s a simple question, but it feels like you’re breaking some kind of unspoken rule. He hesitates, his gaze meeting yours for a brief moment before he looks away. “Yeah,” he replies shortly. “I’m a student.”

There’s something in his tone—cautious, reserved—that makes you think he’s not used to small talk, at least not with strangers. You’re not sure if you should push further or let it go.

“Well, if you ever want to talk about classes or anything… I’m usually here during the late shifts,” you offer, keeping your tone casual, not wanting to pressure him. “It’s always nice to chat with someone who’s going through the same stuff.”

He nods again, more to himself than to you, before muttering, “Maybe next time.”

And with that, he turns and heads out the door, disappearing into the night as quickly as he arrived. You watch him go, the mystery of who he is lingering in your mind.

As the door swings shut behind him, you can’t help but wonder about the stories he carries with him—the ones he keeps locked behind that quiet demeanor. It’s strange, how someone can become a regular part of your day, yet remain so distant. 

The hours stretch on quietly after your regular leaves, with only a few more customers trickling in before the shop grows still. It’s late, and the usual rush of students has dwindled down to nothing, leaving you alone with your thoughts as you go through the motions of closing up. The steady hum of the espresso machine is comforting, almost meditative, as you wipe down the counters, restock supplies, and start counting the till.

Outside, the night has fully settled in, the streets almost deserted save for the occasional car passing by. The soft jazz playing through the speakers blends with the distant sounds of the city, creating a serene atmosphere that helps the time pass. You finish the last of your tasks, grab your bag, and turn off the lights, casting the shop into darkness before locking the door behind you.

As you step outside, the cool night air greets you, a welcome contrast to the warmth of the shop. You pull your jacket tighter around you and start the short walk back to your dorm. The campus is just a block away, and though you’re used to these late-night walks, tonight feels a little different. There’s a tension lingering from your earlier conversation with the regular, a curiosity about who he is and why he always seems so guarded.

When you finally reach your dorm, you enter the code and push open the door, the familiar warmth of the hallway enveloping you. The building is quiet, most students already asleep or buried in their textbooks. As you approach your room, you notice a faint glow seeping from under the door. Chaehyun, your roommate, is usually asleep by now, especially with her early morning classes.

You unlock the door and step inside, surprised to find Chaehyun still awake, sitting on her bed with her knees drawn up to her chest. She’s absentmindedly twirling a strand of hair around her finger, her eyes fixed on the wall as if lost in thought. A textbook lies open beside her, untouched.

“Hey,” you say softly, kicking off your shoes and dropping your bag onto your chair. “Didn’t expect you to still be up.”

Chaehyun glances up, offering a small, distracted smile. “Yeah, I couldn’t sleep.”

You can tell something’s on her mind. It’s not like her to stay awake this late, especially when she has classes in the morning. You grab your towel and some comfortable clothes, heading to the bathroom for a quick shower. The warm water helps wash away the fatigue from your shift, but when you return to the room, you find Chaehyun still in the same spot, her expression pensive.

As you sit down on your bed, drying your hair with the towel, you decide to ask. “What’s up? You look like something’s bothering you.”

Chaehyun sighs, her fingers still fiddling with the strand of hair. “It’s… it’s stupid, really.”

You raise an eyebrow, knowing that whatever it is, it’s clearly not stupid to her. “Doesn’t seem stupid if it’s keeping you up this late.”

She hesitates, biting her lip before finally letting out a deep breath. “It’s Minhee,” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t stop thinking about him.”

You nod, understanding now. Minhee—he’s in your grade, a quiet guy with a gentle smile who seems to have caught Chaehyun’s eye from the very beginning. You’ve noticed the way she looks at him in class, the way her eyes light up whenever he’s around. But Chaehyun has always been a bit reserved when it comes to her feelings, hesitant to make the first move.

“What about him?” you ask gently, knowing there’s more she wants to say.

“It’s just… I don’t know,” she starts, frustration lacing her voice. “Every time I think about talking to him, really talking to him, I just… I freeze. I don’t know what to say or how to act, and I end up avoiding him instead. It’s so frustrating.”

You can see the anxiety written all over her face. Chaehyun, who’s usually so composed and confident, is clearly struggling with this. “Have you tried just… being yourself around him? I mean, he seems like the kind of guy who’d appreciate that.”

Chaehyun lets out a small, humorless laugh. “That’s the problem. I don’t even know how to be myself when I’m around him. I get so nervous, like he’s going to see right through me and realize I’m just… boring.”

“Boring?” you repeat, incredulous. “Chaehyun, you’re anything but boring. You’re smart, funny, and you care about people. If Minhee can’t see that, then he’s the one who’s missing out.”

She looks at you, her expression softening a little, but you can tell she’s still not convinced. “I don’t know… Maybe I’m just overthinking it.”

“Maybe,” you agree, “but that’s okay. It’s normal to feel nervous when you like someone. But you won’t know how he really feels unless you give him a chance to get to know the real you.”

Chaehyun nods slowly, seeming to mull over your words. “I guess you’re right… I just need to figure out how to get past this… fear, I guess.”

“You will,” you assure her. “And when you do, I bet you’ll realize it wasn’t as scary as you thought. Just take it one step at a time.”

She smiles at you, a real smile this time, though still a little uncertain. “Thanks, Y/N. I know I’m probably being silly, but it helps to talk about it.”

“Anytime,” you reply, reaching over to give her hand a reassuring squeeze.

Chaehyun’s smile widens, and she finally seems to relax a little. “I’m just glad I have you to talk to. I’d be lost without you.”

“Same here,” you admit, lying back on your bed. “Let’s both get some sleep now. Who knows what tomorrow will bring?”

“Good night, Y/N,” Chaehyun murmurs, snuggling under her blanket, her earlier anxiety finally starting to fade.

“Good night, Chaehyun,” you reply, turning off the light.

As the room falls into darkness, you close your eyes, hoping that tomorrow will bring some clarity for both of you. The night is still, and for the first time in a while, you feel a sense of peace as sleep begins to pull you under. 

The gymnasium buzzes with energy, the air thick with anticipation as teams from various universities gather for the first fencing match of the season. The metallic clinks of swords being tested, the swish of warm-up jackets, and the low hum of conversation fill the space. You stand with your teammates, Ryujin and Gaeul, your hearts pounding in sync as the day you’ve trained so hard for finally arrives.

You can see Chaehyun, Taehyun, Kai, and the rest of your friends—Jay and Chaeyoung—up in the bleachers, waving when they catch your eye. Chaehyun looks especially excited, a wide grin on her face as she snaps a few photos with her phone, probably to send to you later with some encouraging captions. Taehyun and Kai are shouting something you can’t quite hear, but their support is clear. It’s reassuring to know they’re here, their presence a steady anchor amidst the chaos.

“Ready, Y/N?” Ryujin asks, her eyes sharp and focused, as always.

“Yeah,” you reply, adjusting your mask and gloves. “Let’s do this.”

The team match is up first. It’s a round-robin format, each of you facing off against fencers from the other school. The opposing team looks strong, their stances confident, but you know you and your teammates have been training hard. Ryujin, with her aggressive style, usually takes the lead, while Gaeul’s calm, defensive approach balances things out. Your job is to bring in the points where you can, using your speed and precision to outmaneuver your opponents.

The referee calls you to the piste, and you step forward, saluting your opponent before taking your position. The first bout begins with Ryujin, who scores several quick points, her movements fast and decisive. Gaeul follows, managing to hold her ground and earn a few more points, keeping the score close. Then it’s your turn.

You face off against a tall girl with a strong stance. She lunges first, testing your defenses, but you parry and riposte, landing a clean hit on her shoulder. The match continues, a tense back-and-forth as you try to anticipate her moves while controlling the pace. The sound of your heartbeat fills your ears, the rest of the world fading as you focus solely on the bout.

When the referee calls the match, it’s close, but you’ve managed to secure the final points your team needed to edge out the win. Your teammates cheer, and you exchange high-fives with Ryujin and Gaeul as you step off the piste. There’s a brief moment of relief before you remember that your individual match is still ahead.

You catch your breath and take a swig of water, mentally preparing yourself for what’s next. The individual matches are tougher; there’s no team to back you up, and the pressure is entirely on you. You glance toward the bleachers again, seeing your friends waving and cheering, and it gives you the boost you need.

As you’re about to head to the piste for your individual match, something catches your eye. Off to the side, near where the school journalists are gathered, you spot him—the regular from the coffee shop. He’s standing slightly apart from the others, a notebook in hand, scribbling something down as he watches the matches intently.

For a moment, you’re caught off guard. What’s he doing here? You’ve never seen him at any school events before, let alone at a fencing match. He’s always been a mystery, but seeing him here, in this context, only deepens your curiosity.

You shake off the distraction and refocus on the task at hand. There’s no time to wonder about him now; you have a match to win. But as you walk to the piste, you can’t help but glance in his direction one more time. He’s still taking notes, his eyes darting between the fencers and his notebook, completely absorbed in whatever he’s writing.

The referee calls your name, and you force yourself to push all thoughts of him aside. Your opponent steps up—a girl from another school, her expression serious and focused. You both salute, then take your positions, the tension palpable.

“En garde,” the referee’s voice cuts through the air. “Prêt… Allez!”

The match begins, and you spring into action, your body moving on instinct. Your opponent is quick, her attacks precise, but you match her step for step, finding openings where you can. The bout is intense, each point hard-fought, but you stay calm, remembering your training.

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice the regular glance up from his notebook, watching your match with what seems like more than just passing interest. You block it out, channeling all your focus into the fight.

The final exchange is a blur—a flurry of attacks and parries—until you see an opening and strike, your blade landing cleanly on her torso. The referee raises his hand, signaling the point in your favor. The match is over.

You remove your mask, breathing heavily as the adrenaline starts to fade. Your teammates rush over to congratulate you, their cheers mixing with those of your friends in the stands. You managed to win, both the team match and your individual bout, and the feeling of victory is sweet.

But even as you celebrate with Ryujin and Gaeul, your thoughts drift back to the regular. He’s no longer writing, just watching the scene unfold with an inscrutable expression. Then, almost as if he senses your gaze, he looks up and meets your eyes. There’s a brief moment where neither of you looks away, and then he nods slightly, almost as if in acknowledgment, before turning his attention back to his notebook.

You’re left wondering what that nod meant, if anything. But before you can dwell on it, your friends swarm around you, pulling you into their excitement. There will be time to think about him later. 

The weeks following the first tournament pass in a blur, your life consumed by the relentless demands of school, fencing, and work. Every day feels like a balancing act, trying to keep everything from crashing down as you juggle your commitments. Early morning practices, late-night study sessions, and shifts at the coffee shop—it’s a grind, and there’s little time for anything else.

Fencing practices have become more intense as the team prepares for the upcoming matches. Ryujin and Gaeul push you to your limits, honing your speed and precision with grueling drills. Coach keeps a close eye on everyone, always expecting more, demanding perfection. The victories from the first tournament are already a distant memory, replaced by the constant pressure to improve, to be ready for whatever comes next.

Classes, too, are piling on the pressure. Midterms are fast approaching, and professors seem determined to cram as much information as possible into each lecture. You spend hours poring over textbooks and notes, trying to keep up with the endless stream of assignments and projects. Your mind is a whirlwind of dates, formulas, and theories, each one more complex than the last.

The coffee shop offers little respite. The late-night shifts stretch on endlessly, and by the time you finish cleaning and lock up, it’s often past midnight. The regulars who once filled the shop now seem like a blur of faces, all blending together in your memory. The only person who stands out is the mysterious guy who hasn’t shown up since the tournament. His absence lingers in the back of your mind, a quiet distraction that you can’t quite shake.

Every time you work a shift, you find yourself scanning the shop, half-expecting to see him sitting in his usual spot, notebook in hand. But he never appears. You try to convince yourself that it’s nothing, that he was just a random customer who happened to catch your eye. But the truth is, you’re curious. There was something about him—something intriguing, something you can’t quite put your finger on—that makes you wonder who he is and why he hasn’t come back.

The days blur together, one after the other, as you push through the exhaustion and the mounting pressure. There’s no time to dwell on the regular or on anything else outside the immediate demands of your schedule. Sleep becomes a luxury, something you snatch in brief intervals between studying, practicing, and working. The stress builds, creeping into every corner of your life, until it feels like you’re constantly on the edge, just trying to hold it all together.

As midterms draw closer, the tension reaches a breaking point. Every day feels like a race against the clock, with too much to do and not enough time to do it. The nights grow longer as you stay up late, cramming for exams, only to wake up a few hours later to start all over again. Coffee becomes your lifeline, the only thing keeping you awake during the endless hours of studying and practice.

Despite the chaos, the absence of the regular still nags at you. It’s been weeks since the tournament, and you can’t help but wonder what happened to him. Was he just a one-time visitor? Did he find another coffee shop? Or did something happen that caused him to stop coming? The questions swirl in your mind, surfacing at the most inconvenient times—during class, while practicing, even as you try to sleep.

Chaehyun notices your distraction, but she’s too caught up in her own worries about Minhee to say much. The two of you share a mutual understanding—there’s too much going on, too many demands, to focus on anything else. Still, she tries to cheer you up when she can, dragging you to the campus café for study sessions with Taehyun, Kai, Jay, and Chaeyoung. But even in the midst of your friends, your thoughts drift back to the regular, wondering why he’s disappeared from your life as suddenly as he entered it.

One evening, after an especially grueling practice, you collapse onto your bed, your muscles aching and your mind racing. You know you should be studying, but the textbooks feel like they weigh a ton, and you can’t bring yourself to move. Instead, you lie there, staring up at the ceiling, trying to push the thoughts of the regular out of your mind. But they keep creeping back, slipping past your defenses, until you find yourself wondering if you’ll ever see him again.

Chaehyun glances over at you from her desk, where she’s furiously typing up a report. “You okay?” she asks, her voice tinged with concern.

“Yeah,” you reply, though you’re not entirely sure if it’s true. “Just tired.”

She nods, understanding. “We all are. Just a couple more weeks, and then we can relax. Or, you know, sleep for a week straight.”

You laugh, though it’s more out of exhaustion than humor. “Sounds like a plan.”

But even as you joke, the regular’s absence continues to bother you, a small, nagging feeling that something is off. You try to push it aside, to focus on the here and now—the exams, the practices, the never-ending stream of work. But it’s there, lurking in the back of your mind, a puzzle you can’t quite solve.

As the night wears on, you force yourself to get up and start studying, knowing you can’t afford to fall behind. But the thoughts of the regular linger, a quiet distraction that you can’t shake, no matter how hard you try.

The following week, the routine continues. Early mornings at the gym, afternoons in class, evenings at the coffee shop. The grind is relentless, each day a blur of exhaustion and effort. But you push through, knowing that you can’t afford to let up—not with midterms just around the corner.

The regular still doesn’t show up, and you find yourself growing more and more frustrated. It’s silly, you know, to be so preoccupied with someone you barely know. But there was something about him, something that made you curious, made you want to know more. And now that he’s gone, that curiosity has turned into a nagging itch, a feeling that something is missing.

The days grow shorter as autumn sets in, the air turning crisp and cool. The leaves on the trees outside the dorm begin to change color, painting the campus in shades of red, orange, and yellow. But even the beauty of the season can’t distract you from the growing pressure of midterms, or from the absence of the regular.

As the week wears on, you start to wonder if you’ll ever see him again. Maybe it’s for the best, you tell yourself. You’re too busy to be worrying about some guy you don’t even know. But the thought doesn’t bring you any comfort, and you find yourself hoping, just a little, that he’ll show up one more time.

You try to focus on your studies, on fencing, on work. But the regular’s absence looms large in your mind, a mystery you can’t quite let go of, no matter how hard you try. The routine continues, day after day, but you can’t help but feel like something is missing, something important that you can’t quite put your finger on.

And so, you push forward, determined to get through the next few weeks, to survive the grind and make it through midterms. But even as you do, you can’t shake the feeling that the regular’s absence is more than just a coincidence, that there’s something more going on beneath the surface.

The end of midterms brings a collective sigh of relief that seems to ripple across the entire campus. After weeks of cramming, late-night study sessions, and endless exams, everyone is ready to unwind. The first big party of the semester feels like a long-awaited reward, and the buzz around it is electric. You can feel the excitement in the air as you and Jay walk towards the off-campus house where the party is being held.

Jay is practically bouncing beside you, his usual energy amplified now that the weight of midterms is finally off his shoulders. "This is going to be good," he says, grinning ear to ear. "Everyone’s talking about it.”

You smile, though a part of you is still too tired to fully embrace the idea of a wild night. "I’m just looking forward to a drink and not thinking about school for a bit," you reply.

The house comes into view, its windows glowing with warm light, and the sound of music and laughter spills out onto the street. Groups of people are already gathered on the front lawn, red plastic cups in hand, talking and laughing as if the stress of the past few weeks never existed.

Inside, the house is packed, every room filled with people dancing, talking, and letting loose. The air is thick with the scent of alcohol and the faint sweetness of someone’s attempt at a spiked punch. You and Jay navigate through the crowd, heading toward the kitchen where you expect to find the rest of your friends.

Sure enough, Kai and Taehyun are already there, leaning against the counter, each with a drink in hand. They look more relaxed than you’ve seen them in weeks, their faces flushed from the warmth of alcohol and the relief of having survived midterms.

"Finally!" Kai exclaims when he sees you, raising his cup in greeting. "Thought you’d never get here."

"Had to drag myself off the couch," you admit with a laugh, grabbing a cup and filling it with soju. "But I made it."

Taehyun grins at you over the rim of his cup, his eyes slightly glassy. "You deserve a night off. We all do."

The four of you settle into an easy rhythm, chatting and laughing as the party continues around you. The tension of the past few weeks starts to melt away, replaced by the comfortable camaraderie of friends who’ve all been through the same things. For the first time in a while, you allow yourself to relax, to just enjoy the moment.

As the night goes on, you start to feel the effects of the alcohol—a pleasant warmth spreading through your body, making you feel lighter, more carefree. You drift through the party, talking to people you barely know, losing yourself in the music and the laughter that fills every corner of the house.

After a while, you decide to take a break from the noise and head towards the quieter hallway near the back of the house. The music is more muted here, and you find yourself grateful for the brief reprieve. As you turn a corner, though, you come to an abrupt stop, your eyes widening in surprise.

Chaehyun and Minhee are there, pressed up against the wall, completely absorbed in each other. They’re so caught up in their own world that they don’t even notice you standing there. A flush of embarrassment creeps up your neck as you realize you’ve walked in on them making out.

For a moment, you’re frozen in place, unsure of what to do. You don’t want to interrupt, but you also don’t want to just stand there awkwardly. Eventually, you decide to back away slowly, trying to make as little noise as possible. As you retreat, you can’t help but feel a small pang of amusement. Chaehyun has been crushing on Minhee for so long—it’s about time something happened between them.

As you make your way back to the main part of the house, you spot a familiar figure out of the corner of your eye. You do a double-take, your heart skipping a beat when you realize who it is. Standing near the edge of the living room, engaged in quiet conversation with another guy, is the regular from the coffee shop.

He’s dressed more lively than you’re used to seeing him, as opposed to his dark hoodie, but there’s no mistaking him. The sight of him here, in the middle of the party, is so unexpected that you almost think you’re imagining it. The guy he’s talking to is vaguely familiar as well—it takes you a moment to place him. Sunghoon. Jay’s friend.

You watch them for a moment, your curiosity piqued. The regular seems different in this setting, more relaxed, though still maintaining that air of quiet intensity that caught your attention in the first place. The conversation between him and Sunghoon seems serious, their expressions focused.

Before you can decide whether to approach them or just slip away unnoticed, Jay appears beside you, nudging you with his elbow. "Hey, what’re you staring at?" he asks, his tone light but curious.

You quickly shake off the daze and force a smile. "Just people-watching," you say, trying to sound casual.

Jay raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but he doesn’t press the issue. "Come on," he says, slinging an arm around your shoulders. "Let’s get another drink."

You let him lead you back towards the kitchen, but your thoughts keep drifting back to the regular. What’s he doing here? How does he know Sunghoon? And why does he always seem to show up when you least expect it?

The night wears on, and the drinks keep coming. The atmosphere is infectious, the weight of midterms lifted, and the collective energy of the party propels you further into the evening. Kai and Taehyun are in full party mode, dragging you and Jay into a dance circle in the middle of the living room. The music thumps in your chest, the laughter and shouts of your friends blending into the rhythm, and for a while, you forget everything except the sheer joy of being free from stress.

But as the night deepens and the alcohol warms your veins, your thoughts keep drifting back to the regular. He’s still there, lingering at the edge of the party, talking to Sunghoon. You steal glances at him whenever you can, your curiosity growing stronger with each passing minute. The alcohol dulls your inhibitions, and soon you find yourself wondering why you’re just watching him from afar when you could be talking to him, getting some answers.

It’s a combination of the drinks and the sense of freedom from the night that pushes you over the edge. At some point, you lose count of how many cups of soju you’ve had, but it doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’re feeling bold, more so than you have in weeks, and the next thing you know, you’re making your way across the room towards the guy who’s been occupying your thoughts for far too long.

“Come on, Jay,” you say, trying to sound confident despite the alcohol fuzzing your words. “I want to talk to that guy over there.”

Jay looks at you, a playful smirk on his face. “Oh, you mean Heeseung? Alright, let’s go.”

Heeseung. That’s his name. He looks up as you and Jay approach and there’s a faint hint of recognition in his eyes as he raises an eyebrow, his expression a mix of amusement and curiosity. Sunghoon, catching on to your intention, steps aside with a glance at Jay.

“Hey,” you say, louder than you intended, as you reach them.

Both Heeseung and Sunghoon turn to look at you, surprise flickering across their faces. You suddenly feel a bit self-conscious under their gaze, but you push through it, locking eyes with Heeseung.

“Hi,” Heeseung responds, his voice calm and even. Up close, you notice he has a gentle intensity about him, something that makes your pulse quicken. “Uh, can I help you with something?”

You swallow, suddenly unsure of what to say. What exactly did you plan on saying? You’re not entirely sure, but the alcohol gives you just enough confidence to keep going.

“I… I’ve seen you around,” you begin, your words slurring slightly. “At the coffee shop. You come in a lot.”

Heeseung’s expression softens, and you think you see a hint of a smile. “Yeah, I go there pretty often. You’re the barista, right?”

You nod, relieved that he remembers you. “Yeah, that’s me.”

Sunghoon glances between the two of you, looking slightly amused, before clapping Heeseung on the shoulder. “I’m gonna go find Jake,” he says, excusing himself with a knowing look and taking Jay with him. “See you around.”

Heeseung nods at Sunghoon before turning his attention back to you. “So, what’s up?”

You shift on your feet, the alcohol making you a little bolder but also a little less coherent. “I’ve been wondering about you,” you admit, a bit embarrassed. “You don’t really talk much. You just… come in, get your coffee, and leave. But you’re always writing or taking notes. What’s that about?”

Heeseung chuckles softly, the sound low and a little shy. “I didn’t mean to be mysterious. I’m just… focused, I guess. I’m in the journalism club, and I’m usually working on articles or notes for upcoming interviews.”

“Oh,” you say, nodding as if that explains everything. “That makes sense. But why haven’t you been in the shop lately? I mean… not that I’m keeping track or anything,” you suddenly splutter, face turning even redder than you knew it already was.

Heeseung seems to consider you for a moment, his gaze steady. “I’ve been busy with a project,” he says finally. “But I didn’t mean to stop coming in. Just got caught up in things.”

You hum in understanding, feeling oddly pleased with his answer. “Okay. I guess that makes sense. You… you’re always working, huh?”

“Pretty much,” he admits, his smile widening a fraction. “What about you? I’ve seen you at the shop, but I didn’t know you were on the fencing team. That was you at the tournament. You’re, you’re good. I’m writing a piece about your team in next month’s paper.”

His compliment catches you off guard, and you feel a flush of warmth that has nothing to do with the alcohol. “Thanks,” you say, a bit shy now. “I-I noticed you there. You should’ve said something.”

“I didn’t want to distract you,” he replies, his tone teasing.

You laugh, feeling the last bit of tension slip away. “Well, you could’ve at least waved or something.”

“I’ll keep that in mind for next time,” Heeseung says, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

There’s a brief pause, the noise of the party swirling around you as you stand there, just looking at each other. You’re not sure what to say next, but you don’t want the conversation to end. There’s something about Heeseung that draws you in, something that makes you want to know more about him.

“So… do you always just cover sports?” you ask, tilting your head curiously.

“Not always,” Heeseung replies simply, leaning against a wall. “So,” Heeseung says, leaning against the wall, “do you always get this bold after a few drinks?”

You laugh, feeling the warmth of the alcohol and the ease of the conversation. “No. It’s just… it’s nice to have a break from everything, you know?”

Heeseung nods, a thoughtful look on his face. “I know what you mean.”

You agree, feeling a sense of connection with him that goes beyond the casual small talk. The night has turned into something unexpectedly pleasant, and as you continue to talk, you feel like you’re finally starting to understand the enigmatic Heeseung.

As the party begins to wind down, you notice Jay and Sunghoon making their way back toward you and Heeseung. Jay, still wearing that ever-present smirk, gives you a knowing look.

“Everything good here?” he asks, his tone more genuine than teasing.

Heeseung nods, his expression relaxed but still somewhat reserved. “Yeah, we’ve just been talking.”

Sunghoon gives Heeseung a pat on the back, and there’s a brief exchange of glances between them—something unspoken that you can’t quite decipher. Jay shifts his weight, glancing at you as if he’s debating whether to say something or just let the moment pass. Glancing at his phone, he finally speaks. “We should probably get going.”

“Yeah,” you agree, feeling a mix of reluctance and contentment. “It’s getting late.”

Heeseung gives you a small nod, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “I’ll be back for coffee tomorrow, Y/N.” You glean that he learned your name long before you learned his, from his work in the journalism club.

“See you then,” you reply, feeling the weight of the words. There’s no need to force anything more out of the moment—it feels complete as it is.

As you and Jay walk away, you feel a sense of quiet satisfaction. And heading back to your dorm, you can’t help but wonder about Heeseung and what else you have yet to learn about him. 

As promised, Heeseung returned to the coffee shop the next afternoon. You’d wondered if the conversation at the party was just a fleeting moment, something that would fade by morning. But there he was, standing in line, that familiar reserved expression on his face, though his eyes carried a hint of something playful as he scanned the menu.

You were behind the counter, finishing up an order when you noticed him. A small flutter of nerves caught you off guard, but you quickly masked it with a professional smile. It was just Heeseung, you told yourself—a regular customer, nothing more. Yet the memory of your conversation from the night before lingered, making him feel like more than just another face in the crowd.

When Heeseung reached the front of the line, he gave you a smile that was a bit wider than his usual one. “Hey, Y/N.”

“Hey,” you replied, feeling a bit self-conscious under his gaze. “Back for another round of caffeine?”

He nodded, glancing briefly at the menu before meeting your eyes again. “Yeah, I think I’ll try that cappuccino you mentioned.”

“Straight up or with a flavor?” you asked, already moving to prepare the drink.

“Straight up. I trust your recommendation,” he said, leaning casually on the counter. As you started steaming the milk, he added, with a playful tone, “You seemed pretty confident about it last night, but maybe that was just the drinks talking.”

You felt your face warm, a mix of embarrassment and amusement bubbling up. Admittedly now, you had no recollection of recommending him the cappuccino at all. “Oh, so you’re going to tease me about that now?”

Heeseung chuckled, the sound soft and easy. “Just a little. You were pretty bold last night, but I figured it was the liquid courage.”

“Well, maybe it was,” you admitted, focusing on the cappuccino to avoid his eyes. “But I still stand by my coffee skills, drunk or not.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Heeseung replied, watching as you finished his drink. “You’ve got a good reputation around here.”

You handed him the cup, feeling a bit of pride at the compliment. “So, what’s on your agenda today? More stories to write?” You asked, happy to change the topic from your inebriated state during your last encounter with him.

Heeseung took a sip of his cappuccino, his eyes lighting up at the taste. “This is really good,” he said, before continuing. “Actually, yeah. I’m working on a few pieces. The one about the fencing team that I mentioned.”

Your stomach flipped as you remembered him telling you this last night. You had been so overwhelmed in just actually having a conversation with him that you hadn’t given any more thought to his mention about the story covering the fencing team. “What’s the story going to be about?” you asked genuinely curiously. 

Heeseung leaned in slightly, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. “It’s a feature on student-athletes and how they balance sports with everything else. Your team’s been doing pretty well, and I thought it’d be interesting to dive into what makes you all tick. I was going to reach out to some of your teammates for interviews.”

You couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness at the thought. “That sounds cool. Are you, planning to interview me too?”

Heeseung nodded, his expression thoughtful. “If you’re up for it. I think your perspective would be interesting—especially considering you’ve got work, fencing, and classes all juggled pretty well.”

You shrugged, trying to play it cool despite the flutter in your chest. “I’d be down for that. I mean, if you think I’d have something worth saying.”

Heeseung gave you a look that was both serious and slightly teasing. “Everyone has something worth saying. Besides, I’ve seen how focused you are at practice. There’s a story there, trust me.”

You smiled, feeling a bit more at ease. “Alright, you’ve got me convinced. Let me know when you want to do the interview.”

“Will do,” Heeseung said, taking another sip of his coffee. He paused for a moment, as if debating whether to say something, then added, “You know, you were pretty curious last night. About me, I mean.”

The comment caught you off guard, and you felt a blush creeping up your neck. “Was I that obvious?”

Heeseung grinned, his usual reserve giving way to something more playful. “A little. But I don’t mind. I’m used to asking questions, not answering them, so it was a nice change.”

“Well, I guess I’m just trying to figure out the guy who comes in here, gets his coffee, and disappears without saying much,” you replied, feeling a bit bolder now that the topic was out in the open.

“I’m not that mysterious,” Heeseung said with a soft laugh, though his smile suggested he enjoyed the idea. “I think I became dependent on the coffee from here. Without it at the end of last year, I genuinely don’t think I would’ve survived. But I was used to just running in and out of here.”

You nodded in understanding, gathering more information from his words that he was at least a year older than yourself. “You should try staying sometime. We’ve got other drinks besides just coffee too, you know.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Heeseung replied, his tone lighter now. “Especially if you’re the one making them.”

Before the conversation could go any further, another customer approached the counter, pulling your attention away. Heeseung noticed and gave you a small wave.

“I’ll let you get back to work,” he said, stepping aside. “But thanks for the coffee, Y/N. I’ll be in touch about the story.”

You smiled, waving him away and watching as he left the small café, journal in hand.

On your walk back to the dorm, you replayed his words in your mind, particularly his comment about everyone having something worth saying. It stuck with you, making you wonder if there was more to you—more to your own story—than you’d given yourself credit for.

And then there was the story Heeseung was working on, the one about your fencing team. The thought of being featured in an article made you both excited and nervous. You couldn’t help but think about what he might write, how he might see you through his lens as a journalist.

By the time you reached your dorm, the day’s events had left you with a sense of anticipation. Things were shifting, slowly but surely. Heeseung’s presence in your life, however small it might be right now, felt like the beginning of something new—something you weren’t sure how to define just yet.

But for now, you were content to let it unfold at its own pace, curious to see where it might lead.

The weeks leading into winter passed in a blur, the chill in the air growing sharper with each day. With the end of the semester looming, your schedule became a tightrope act, balancing between academics, fencing, work, and the slow but steady shifts in your social life.

Your literature project with Taehyun was one of the first things to dominate your time. The two of you had been paired up to analyze a complex, multi-layered novel that was both fascinating and exhausting. It required countless hours in the library, pouring over pages and notes, trying to piece together a coherent argument that would satisfy your professor’s exacting standards.

“Honestly, I think I’ve read this chapter five times, and I still don’t get what the author’s trying to say,” Taehyun grumbled one afternoon, his head buried in his hands. You were seated in a quiet corner of the campus library, surrounded by stacks of books and discarded drafts.

You chuckled, though you felt the same frustration. “Maybe that’s the point—ambiguity as a narrative device or something.”

Taehyun lifted his head, a skeptical look on his face. “Or maybe the author just liked to mess with his readers. I wouldn’t put it past him.”

Despite the long hours and occasional confusion, working with Taehyun had its perks. His sense of humor kept things light even when the material felt heavy, and the shared struggle somehow made the project feel less daunting. 

In between study sessions, you found yourself talking to Chaehyun about her new relationship with Minhee. The shift from pining to dating had happened quickly, and you could see how it had brought a new glow to her usually calm demeanor.

“So, how’s it going with Minhee?” you asked one evening, after you both returned from your respective activities. You were sprawled on your bed, exhausted from another grueling fencing practice, while Chaehyun sat at her desk, typing away on her laptop.

Chaehyun paused, a shy smile spreading across her face. “It’s... really good. Better than I expected, actually. He’s so thoughtful, you know? And sweet. It’s nice.”

You couldn’t help but smile at her happiness. “I’m glad. You deserve someone who treats you well.”

“Thanks,” Chaehyun said, turning to face you. “We’re still figuring things out, but I like where it’s going. It’s just... new, you know?”

You nodded, understanding exactly what she meant. “Yeah, new can be both exciting and terrifying.”

Chaehyun laughed softly. “Exactly. But I think it’s more exciting than terrifying right now.”

As Chaehyun’s relationship with Minhee deepened, you found yourself spending more late nights with the fencing team, the team growing stronger as you all pushed yourselves harder in preparation for the upcoming winter tournaments. Ryujin and Gaeul were a constant presence and the three of you formed a tight-knit unit on and off the piste.

“Are we fencing or just trying to survive winter at this point?” Ryujin joked one evening, her breath visible in the frigid air of the training facility.

“Both, probably,” Gaeul replied, stretching her arms.

You smiled at their banter, feeling a sense of belonging that you hadn’t expected when you first joined the team. The late-night practices were grueling, but they were also a refuge—a place where the stress of school and work melted away, leaving only the focus and adrenaline of the sport you loved.

And then, there was Heeseung.

Since that conversation at the party, Heeseung had become a regular fixture in your life, though in subtle ways. He continued to visit the coffee shop, usually in the afternoons when the rush had died down, and you found yourself looking forward to those moments more than you wanted to admit.

Each time he came in, you exchanged a few more words, small talk that gradually grew into something more substantial. He teased you occasionally about your drunken confidence at the party, but it was always in good humor, and you found yourself warming to his quiet, steady presence.

“You should try the caramel macchiato next,” you suggested one day, after he’d ordered his usual cappuccino.

Heeseung raised an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Is this you branching out from straight-up coffee recommendations?”

“Maybe,” you replied, leaning on the counter. “Or maybe I’m just trying to expand your horizons.”

Heeseung chuckled. “Alright, I’ll give it a shot next time. I trust your judgment.”

Outside the coffee shop, you occasionally saw him around campus, usually in the library or at the student center, often with his notebook in hand. He was always absorbed in his work, but he never seemed too busy to stop and chat if you crossed paths. You learned that he was a journalism major, passionate about uncovering stories that others might overlook. His feature on the fencing team was still in the works, and every so often, he’d ask you a question or two about your experiences.

“You mentioned you started fencing in elementary school,” Heeseung said one afternoon as you handed him his coffee. “What got you into it?”

You hesitated for a moment, considering how much to share. “It was kind of random, actually. I saw a demo at a school fair and thought it looked interesting. I liked the idea of a sport that was both physical and strategic, or maybe I just liked the pointy swords back then. But once I started, I just… got hooked.”

Heeseung nodded, jotting something down in his notebook. “It makes sense. Fencing isn’t just about brute strength—it’s about thinking ahead, reading your opponent. It suits you.”

You blinked, taken aback by the insight. “You think so?”

“Yeah,” Heeseung said, glancing up at you with a small smile. “You’ve got that kind of focus—like you’re always considering your next move.”

You didn’t know how to respond, so you just nodded, a bit flustered by the compliment. It wasn’t often that someone saw you that way, and it left you feeling both exposed and strangely validated.

As the weeks wore on, winter crept closer, bringing with it a sense of both urgency and anticipation. The days grew shorter, the cold biting deeper, but there was also a certain excitement in the air—an awareness that something was building, both in your life and in the lives of those around you.

Chaehyun and Minhee’s relationship was growing stronger, the fencing team was gearing up for the winter season, and your literature project with Taehyun was nearing completion, the two of you finally starting to make sense of the novel’s tangled themes.

And Heeseung as present as ever, whose stance in your life continued to grow, even if it was still undefined.

As you stood in the coffee shop one late afternoon, watching the first snowflakes of the season drift down outside, you couldn’t help but wonder where all these pieces would lead. Winter was here, and with it came the promise of change—of challenges and new beginnings, of stories waiting to be written.

The gymnasium buzzed with the collective energy of two rival teams and their supporters. The cold winter air outside contrasted sharply with the warmth inside, where anticipation hung thick. Your breath was steady, your mind focused, but you could still feel the nervous excitement humming through your veins as you tightened the grip on your saber. This was your second big match of the season, and after the hard-earned victory last time, expectations were high.

Your team was up against another strong school, but this time, things felt different. Your preparation had been intense, the extra hours you spent with Ryujin and Gaeul paying off in how smoothly you moved together on the piste. There was no hesitation in your movements, no second-guessing your strategy. Everything you’d worked for was about to be tested again.

The first part of the match was a group event, just like last time. You, Ryujin, and Gaeul faced off against your opponents with a renewed confidence. The cheers from your side of the bleachers spurred you on, each point won driving you to push harder. Chaehyun’s voice was unmistakable, rising above the crowd with her usual enthusiastic support, while you could also make out Taehyun, MInhee, Jay, and Chaeyoung joining in.

By the end of the group match, your team was ahead by a comfortable margin. The final score was a significant improvement from the previous match, a reflection of your team’s growing synergy. As the referee announced your victory, a wave of elation swept through you, a mixture of relief and pride. You and your teammates exchanged high-fives, grinning from ear to ear.

“That was amazing!” Ryujin said, her voice slightly breathless as she unhooked her mask. “We were on fire today!”

Gaeul nodded, her face flushed with the exertion and excitement. “It’s like everything just clicked. We’ll be the same for the individuals.”

You smiled, feeling the truth of their words. The victory felt earned, the product of your collective effort. But there was still the individual match to go.

As the team celebrations began to wind down, you prepared for your own one-on-one bout. This time, you were facing a different opponent—a girl with a reputation for being quick and aggressive on the piste. The kind of challenge you thrived on.

The individual match was intense, every move calculated, every strike measured. But you held your ground, matching her pace, anticipating her next move. You could feel the rhythm of the fight, the give and take, the way you both adapted to each other’s style. And then, in a final, decisive moment, you scored the winning touch.

The crowd erupted into applause as you removed your mask, the rush of victory coursing through you. Your teammates were the first to greet you as you stepped off the piste, their congratulations adding to the euphoria of the moment.

“Yes!” Ryujin exclaimed, clapping you on the back.

“Great job, Y/N!” Gaeul added, her smile wide. Both girls had also won their individual matches making your school shoot up the ranks.

You basked in the team for a moment, letting the energy of the win wash over you. But out of the corner of your eye, you caught sight of Heeseung standing on the sidelines, his notebook in hand, his gaze fixed on you with a mix of interest and something else you couldn’t quite place.

He hadn’t been as close to the action as your friends, but he’d clearly been watching. After a moment, he started making his way toward you, weaving through the small crowd of spectators and teammates.

“Hey,” Heeseung said as he approached, his voice carrying over the noise of the gym. “That was a great match. Congrats, you deserve it.”

“Thanks,” you replied, still catching your breath. “It was intense, but I’m glad it went well.”

Heeseung nodded, his usual reserved smile in place. “If you’ve got a few minutes, I was hoping we could do that interview now—if you’re up for it.”

You hesitated, still riding the high of the win, but you knew this was something you’d been expecting. And honestly, you were curious about what questions he had lined up for you. “Sure, let’s do it.”

Heeseung led you to a quieter corner of the gym, away from the noise of the celebrations. You both settled down on a bench, the sounds of the ongoing matches and distant chatter forming a muted backdrop.

He flipped open his notebook, his pen poised, and gave you a reassuring look. “Don’t worry, this won’t be too formal. Just a few questions about the match and your experience so far.”

You nodded, already feeling more at ease. “Okay, shoot.”

Heeseung, after asking for permission, opened up his phone to record, stating his name and year, “This is Lee Heeseung, sophomore journalism major interviewing freshman L/N F/N, sports sciences major on the fencing team.” His first few questions were straightforward, focusing on the match itself—your thoughts going into it, how you prepared, and how you felt about the win. You answered easily, the details of the match still fresh in your mind.

Then he shifted gears. “So, Y/N, you’ve been balancing fencing with school and work. That’s a lot on your plate. How do you manage it all?”

You thought about it for a moment, considering how to articulate what often felt like a delicate juggling act. “It’s definitely not easy. There are days when it feels like too much, but I guess it’s all about priorities. Fencing is something I’m passionate about, so even when it gets tough, I remind myself why I’m doing it. And with school, it’s about time management. The job is a necessity, but I’ve found a rhythm that works for me.”

Heeseung nodded as he scribbled down your response, his expression thoughtful. “It sounds like you’ve found a balance, even if it’s not perfect. Do you ever feel like you’re missing out on other parts of college life because of it?”

You smiled wryly, recognizing the truth in his question. “Yeah, sometimes. I mean, I don’t get to go to as many parties or hang out as much as some of my friends do. But I’m okay with that. I’ve met some great people through fencing and work, and they make it worth it.”

Heeseung looked up from his notebook, meeting your eyes with a curious gaze. “Do you think fencing has changed you? Like, in terms of how you see yourself or how you handle things?”

The question caught you off guard, making you pause. “Yeah, I think it has,” you said slowly, choosing your words carefully. “Fencing’s taught me a lot about discipline and patience. It’s also made me more resilient. When you’re out there on the piste, it’s just you and your opponent, and you have to trust in your own abilities. That confidence carries over into other areas of my life.”

Heeseung’s pen scratched across the paper as he took down your words, nodding slightly as he wrote. When he finished, he looked back at you with a small, approving smile. “That was great, Y/N. You’re a natural. I might have to steal you for these more often.”

You felt a warmth spread through you at his words, the kind of affirmation that felt both surprising and welcome. “Thanks, Heeseung. I appreciate that.”

He closed his notebook, signaling the end of the interview. “I think I’ve got everything I need for now. I’ll probably follow up with you later, once I start putting the article together.”

“Sure, anytime,” you said, standing up from the bench as he did the same.

As you walked back toward the main area of the gym, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction. The match had gone well, and now you’d gotten through the interview, which, instead of being daunting, had felt more like a conversation with someone who genuinely wanted to understand your perspective.

Before you could say anything more, Heeseung spoke up. “By the way, I’m really looking forward to writing this piece. It’s been my favorite for the semester. I think it’s going to turn out well.”

You smiled, feeling a sense of anticipation mixed with curiosity. “I’m looking forward to reading it.”

With that, Heeseung gave you a small wave and headed off, likely to interview some of your teammates. You watched him go, feeling a strange mix of emotions—pride from the match, a sense of accomplishment from the interview, and something else, something unspoken, that lingered in the air between you.

As the day’s events began to wind down, you rejoined your friends, who were still celebrating the win. But even as you laughed and joked with them, your mind kept drifting back to that quiet corner of the gym, where Heeseung had asked you questions that made you think about yourself in ways you hadn’t before.

Winter was settling in, but for the first time in a while, you felt a warmth that had nothing to do with the temperature outside. It was a warmth born from connection—both with your teammates and, increasingly, with the boy who was slowly becoming a regular part of your world.

The semester drew to a close like the final chapter of a long, exhausting novel. You could practically feel the collective sigh of relief that swept through campus as students completed their last exams and handed in their final projects. The late nights spent pouring over textbooks and notes, the endless hours in the library, and the nerve-wracking presentations were all behind you now. You’d managed to finish your literature project with Taehyun, and the fencing season had temporarily wound down, giving you a much-needed break.

With the academic pressures lifting, you found yourself with some rare free time. But rather than taking it easy, you decided to make the most of the lull by picking up extra shifts at the café. It was a chance to earn some money and keep yourself busy. The rhythm of work was comforting, almost meditative. The familiar sounds of the espresso machine, the chatter of customers, and the scent of freshly brewed coffee became the backdrop to your days.

One afternoon, as the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a warm, golden hue across the café, Heeseung walked in. He had become a more regular presence in your life, not just as the guy who showed up at the café but as someone who seemed to understand the balancing act you were constantly performing. Today, though, there was something different in his expression—a hint of concern.

He approached the counter, a small smile playing on his lips. “Hey, Y/N. How’s it going?”

You returned the smile, wiping your hands on a towel before turning your full attention to him. “Hey, Heeseung. It’s going. The semester’s finally over, so that’s a relief.”

He nodded, his eyes scanning your face as if he was searching for something. “Yeah, I can imagine. But shouldn’t you be relaxing now? You’ve been working pretty hard all semester.”

You shrugged, a light laugh escaping you. “Maybe, but I’d rather keep busy. Plus, I could use the extra cash.”

Heeseung’s brow furrowed slightly as he leaned against the counter. “You know, there’s such a thing as overworking yourself. It’s okay to take a break, especially after everything you’ve been through with school and fencing.”

His words were gentle, but they hit a bit too close to home. You’d been running on adrenaline for so long that the idea of slowing down felt foreign, almost uncomfortable. “I guess,” you said, brushing off the concern with a casual tone. “But I’m fine, really. I’ve got a rhythm, and it works for me.”

Heeseung didn’t push further, but the look in his eyes told you he wasn’t entirely convinced. Still, he let it go, changing the subject to lighter topics. The two of you chatted about the latest campus gossip, upcoming holiday plans, and the unusually mild winter weather. The conversation flowed easily, as it always did with Heeseung.

As the afternoon stretched on, the café began to empty out, leaving just a few lingering customers. You noticed Heeseung glance at his watch a couple of times, and you wondered if he had somewhere else to be. But instead of leaving, he stayed, sipping on his coffee and occasionally jotting something down in his notebook.

Finally, as you were wiping down the counter, he spoke up again, his voice tinged with hesitation. “Hey, Y/N, I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

You looked up, curious. “What’s up?”

Heeseung rubbed the back of his neck, a small, almost shy smile appearing on his face. “So, a few of my friends and I are going out to dinner tomorrow night. Just a small thing to celebrate the end of the semester, and an excuse to drink of course. I was wondering if you’d like to come? I mean, if I can drag you away from this place.”

The question caught you off guard, but in a good way. You hadn’t expected an invitation, especially from someone like Heeseung, who seemed so composed and focused. “Oh,” you said, taking a moment to process. “Who else is going?”

“Sunghoon, Jake, and Jay,” he replied, listing off the names with ease. “You know Jay, right? He mentioned you guys have mutual friends.”

You nodded, recognizing the names. Sunghoon and Jake were familiar faces, mostly through Jay, though you hadn’t spent much time with them. Still, the idea of a night out with them sounded appealing, especially after the stress of the last few weeks.

“I’d love to,” you said, feeling a flutter of excitement mixed with nerves. “Thanks for inviting me.”

Heeseung’s smile widened, the hesitation in his demeanor dissolving into something warmer, more relaxed. “Great. We’re meeting at 7:00, at that new Korean barbecue place near campus. I’ll text you the details.”

“Perfect,” you said, returning his smile. “I’ll see you there.”

As Heeseung gathered his things and left the café, you couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of anticipation. It wasn’t just the idea of dinner with new people; it was the prospect of spending more time with Heeseung, of seeing him outside the usual confines of the café and campus. There was something about him that intrigued you, something that made you want to know more.

Later that evening, as you closed up the café, your mind drifted back to the conversation. For the first time in what felt like forever, you were allowing yourself to look forward to something that wasn’t related to school or fencing. The semester was over, the projects were wrapped up, and for a brief moment, you had a chance to just be.

The evening air was crisp, the winter chill biting gently at your cheeks as you stepped out of your dorm. You wrapped your scarf a little tighter around your neck, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness bubbling up inside you. It wasn’t often that you went out like this, especially with people you didn’t know well, but the prospect of spending time with Heeseung and meeting his friends felt like a welcome change.

You had taken your time getting ready, opting for something that struck a balance between casual and put-together—a simple sweater and jeans, paired with your favorite boots. Nothing too fancy, but enough to make you feel confident. As you walked toward the restaurant, your breath puffing out in small clouds, you couldn’t help but think about how different tonight felt from your usual routine.

The Korean barbecue place was bustling when you arrived, the warm glow of the interior lights spilling out onto the street. You spotted Heeseung immediately; he was waiting just outside the door, hands shoved into the pockets of his coat. When he saw you approaching, a smile spread across his face, but there was something else there too—a hint of nervousness you hadn’t seen before.

“Hey,” he greeted you, his voice warm as he stepped closer. “You made it.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” you replied, smiling back at him. “Are your friends here?”

Heeseung nodded, gesturing toward the door. “Yeah, they’re inside. I wanted to wait for you, though.”

His words made your heart flutter just a little, and you couldn’t help but notice how he held the door open for you, waiting for you to step in before following. It was a small gesture, but one that spoke volumes about his character.

Inside, the restaurant was lively, the sound of sizzling meat and laughter filling the air. The warmth of the room was a welcome contrast to the cold outside, and as you followed Heeseung to the table, you took in the scene around you. Sunghoon, Jake, and Jay were already seated, chatting casually as they waited.

Jay spotted you first, a wide grin spreading across his face. “Y/N, finally! We were starting to think Heeseung got lost on the way.”

You laughed, sliding into the seat next to Heeseung while Jay winked at you from across the table. “Not lost, just taking my time.”

“Good to see you again,” Jake said, his voice sweet and bubbly, as if the weight of the world had never touched him. He raised his glass in greeting. “Welcome to the party.”

Sunghoon, on the other hand, was more reserved. He offered you a polite nod, his expression guarded, though not unfriendly. You noticed that while he wasn’t as outgoing as the others, he had a quiet presence. He seemed content to let the others lead the conversation, though you caught him glancing at you a few times, as if he was trying to gauge what kind of person you were.

The first round of food arrived quickly, and the table was soon filled with the savory aroma of grilling meat and a variety of side dishes. Conversation flowed easily as everyone started eating, with Jay taking the lead, as usual, cracking jokes and keeping the mood light. Jake was quick to join in, his laughter infectious and genuine. Sunghoon remained mostly quiet, focusing on his food, but there was a subtle shift in his demeanor as the evening progressed. The alcohol, as it often did, seemed to loosen him up a bit, and he began to engage more with the group, his responses still measured but less reserved.

“So, Y/N,” Jake said at one point, leaning forward slightly, his eyes bright with curiosity. “Heeseung mentioned you’re on the fencing team. How’s that going?”

You paused, glancing at Heeseung, who was watching you with that same soft smile. “It’s been good. We had a couple of big matches recently, and the team’s been doing well. It’s a lot of work, but I love it.”

Jake nodded enthusiastically. “That’s awesome! I’ve always thought fencing seemed really cool. And tough. I can barely keep up with regular exercise, let alone something like that.”

You laughed, appreciating his genuine interest. “It definitely has its challenges, but it’s worth it. Keeps me busy, that’s for sure.”

As the evening wore on, you found yourself relaxing more, enjoying the company and the atmosphere. Jay and Jake kept the conversation lively, and even Sunghoon began to open up more, sharing a few dry, witty remarks that made everyone laugh. You could tell that he had a different sense of humor, one that was more subtle and quiet, but just as sharp.

Heeseung, meanwhile, seemed a bit more reserved than usual, though he was always attentive to you. He made sure you had enough to eat, refilling your glass when it was low, and asking if you were comfortable. There was a certain gentleness in his actions, a thoughtfulness that didn’t go unnoticed.

At one point, as you were reaching for a piece of meat, your hand brushed against his. Heeseung froze for a second, then quickly pulled back, his cheeks tinged with the faintest hint of pink. You glanced at him, amused by his reaction.

“Are you always this gentlemanly?” you teased, keeping your tone light.

Heeseung chuckled, though his eyes didn’t quite meet yours. “Only when it’s deserved,” he said quietly, his voice sincere.

You felt your heart skip a beat at his words, and for a moment, the noise of the restaurant seemed to fade into the background. There was something about Heeseung that drew you in, something that made you want to know him better, beyond the casual interactions at the café.

The rest of the evening passed in a comfortable blur, the food and conversation blending together in a way that made time slip by unnoticed. By the time you all decided to call it a night, the restaurant had quieted down, the tables around you mostly empty.

As you all stood up to leave, Jay clapped Heeseung on the back, a mischievous grin on his face. “See? I told you she’d fit right in.”

Heeseung rolled his eyes but didn’t argue, his expression softening as he looked at you. “I’m glad you came, Y/N. It was fun.”

“Me too,” you replied, genuinely meaning it. “Thanks for inviting me.”

The group stepped out into the cold night, the breath of winter once again wrapping around you. You shivered slightly, pulling your scarf tighter, and noticed that Heeseung glanced at you, concern flashing briefly in his eyes.

“Do you want to walk back together?” he offered, his voice quiet but sincere.

You smiled, feeling the warmth of his offer chase away the chill. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

And so, as the others went their separate ways, you and Heeseung started the walk back to campus. The streets were quiet, the city settling into its late-night rhythm. The conversation between you was unhurried, comfortable, as you talked about everything and nothing.

When you finally reached your building, you paused at the entrance, turning to face him. Heeseung smiled at you, his hands still tucked into his pockets, and for a moment, you hesitated, not wanting the night to end just yet. The thought of going back to your empty dorm, now that Chaehyun had gone home for break, felt a little too lonely.

“Heeseung,” you started, the words coming out a bit more hesitant than you intended, “would you like to come in? I mean, if you’re not in a rush to go anywhere.”

He blinked, clearly surprised by the offer, but his expression quickly softened into a warm smile. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

You both headed inside, the warmth of the building a welcome contrast to the chill outside. As you made your way up to your floor, the quiet between you shifted slightly, a subtle tension building, though it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was more like the anticipation of something unspoken, something waiting just beneath the surface.

When you reached your door, you fumbled a bit with the keys, your nerves suddenly getting the better of you. But Heeseung was patient, standing close enough that you could feel the heat of him, though he kept a respectful distance.

Finally, you managed to unlock the door and pushed it open, stepping inside. The dorm was just as you’d left it, neat and tidy, but the absence of Chaehyun’s usual clutter made it feel strangely empty. You glanced around, suddenly aware of how quiet it was without your roommate’s presence.

“Make yourself at home,” you said, gesturing for Heeseung to follow you in. He nodded, closing the door behind him as you kicked off your shoes and made your way to the small seating area by the window.

Heeseung settled onto the couch, his movements a bit more cautious than usual, as if he was still getting used to being in this more intimate setting. You sat down next to him, the space between you smaller than it had been at the restaurant. The proximity made your heart beat a little faster, the atmosphere between you charged with something unspoken.

“So,” Heeseung began, his voice softer now that you were indoors, “how does it feel to have the place to yourself?”

You shrugged, trying to keep your tone light. “It’s nice, I guess. But it’s also kind of weird. I’m used to having Chaehyun around, you know?”

Heeseung nodded, his gaze drifting around the room before landing back on you. “I get that. It’s different when it’s just you.”

There was something in the way he said it, an understanding that made you feel less self-conscious about your earlier hesitation. You smiled, appreciating his ability to put you at ease, even in moments like this.

The conversation flowed easily after that, drifting from one topic to another as the night deepened. You talked about the upcoming break, your plans—or lack thereof—and shared stories about school and fencing. Heeseung listened intently, occasionally adding his own thoughts, but mostly, he seemed content to just be there with you.

At some point, without either of you really noticing, the distance between you grew smaller. You were sitting closer now, your legs almost touching, and the subtle brush of his shoulder against yours sent a warmth spreading through you.

The conversation began to slow, words trailing off as the comfortable silence returned. You could feel the tension building again, but this time, it wasn’t just anticipation. It was something more tangible, something that made your heart race and your thoughts scatter.

You turned to look at Heeseung, finding him already watching you. His expression was unreadable, his eyes searching yours as if he was trying to figure out what you were thinking. You swallowed, suddenly nervous, but you didn’t look away. Instead, you leaned in slightly, your gaze flickering to his lips, then back to his eyes.

Heeseung hesitated for a fraction of a second, but then he leaned in too, his breath warm against your skin as he closed the distance. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if both of you were testing the waters. But when you didn’t pull away, Heeseung’s hand gently cupped your face, deepening the kiss just a little, the warmth between you growing.

You kissed him back, your own hand finding its way to his arm, holding on as if to ground yourself in the moment. The feeling of his lips against yours, the closeness of him, sent a rush of emotions through you—nervousness, excitement, something that felt a lot like relief.

When you finally pulled back, you were both breathing a little heavier, the air between you charged with something new. Heeseung’s eyes were bright, a small, slightly bashful smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Sorry,” he murmured, though the apology seemed more out of habit than necessity. “I didn’t mean to...”

“Don’t apologize,” you interrupted, your own smile matching his. “I’m glad you did.”

His smile widened, the tension in his shoulders easing as he relaxed back into the couch. You stayed close, the earlier nervousness fading into a quiet contentment. Neither of you felt the need to fill the silence with more words; the kiss had said enough.

The two of you spent the rest of the evening in the soft glow of the dorm lights, your conversations quieter now, punctuated by the occasional shared glance or gentle touch. It was as if the kiss had opened a door, and now you were both stepping through it, unsure of what lay ahead but willing to find out together.

When it was finally time for Heeseung to leave, he did so reluctantly, his hand lingering on yours for just a moment longer. As he stepped out into the cold night, you stood at the door, watching him go, a warmth spreading through you.

You closed the door behind him, leaning against it for a moment, a smile tugging at your lips. The night had turned out to be something entirely unexpected, something that you hadn’t planned for but were glad had happened.

And as you got ready for bed, the memory of the kiss still fresh in your mind, you couldn’t help but wish he had stayed and was now occupying the empty spot in the bed beside you.

Winter break passed in a blur of quiet days and familiar routines. You spent the first few days at home, the warmth of your family’s company wrapping around you like a comfortable blanket. The weather was cold, snow lightly dusting the streets, but inside, your home was filled with the smell of home-cooked meals, the sound of laughter, and the comforting presence of those you loved.

Your parents were happy to have you back, asking about school, your friends, and the fencing team. They seemed proud of everything you had accomplished so far, though they didn’t press too much about your social life, content with the knowledge that you were managing well on your own. Your siblings, were also a constant source of joy and sometimes annoyance, as they teased you about how serious you seemed whenever they caught you daydreaming.

But no matter how comforting home was, there was a part of you that couldn’t stop thinking about what—or rather, who—you had left behind at school. The memory of the kiss you shared with Heeseung lingered at the edges of your thoughts, no matter how hard you tried to push it away. Every time your mind wandered, it found its way back to that quiet evening in your dorm, the warmth of his hand against your cheek, the softness of his lips.

Heeseung had texted you a few times over the break, nothing serious—just a funny anecdote here, a quick check-in there. His messages were casual, light-hearted, but you could feel the underlying tension in every word. It was as if both of you were tiptoeing around something unspoken, neither of you willing to be the first to bring it up.

The days slipped by in a comfortable rhythm—family dinners, catching up with old friends, cozying up with a book or a movie during the long winter nights. But no matter what you were doing, you couldn’t shake the knowledge that something had shifted, something that would need to be addressed once you returned to campus.

When the break finally came to an end, you packed your bags with a strange mix of excitement and apprehension. As much as you loved being home, there was a part of you that was eager to get back to school, back to your friends, back to the routine you had grown accustomed to. And, of course, back to Heeseung.

The campus felt different when you returned. The cold air was biting, the trees bare, and a layer of snow covered the ground. The holiday decorations were gone, replaced by the stark reality of winter. But there was also a sense of renewal in the air, as students filtered back in, ready for the new semester.

You settled back into your dorm, the familiar space welcoming you with its warmth. Chaehyun, who had returned a day earlier, greeted you with a hug, already bubbling over with stories about her break and her budding relationship with Minhee. The two of you spent the evening catching up, and although it felt good to be back with your roommate, there was still something very large and growing weighing on your mind.

The next day, you returned to your usual yet slightly new routine—classes, work at the café, and practice with the fencing team. Everything seemed the same, yet there was an undercurrent of something different. You saw your friends—Taehyun, Kai, Jay, and Chaeyoung—falling back into the old rhythms as if nothing had changed. Though Jay seemed to somehow knowingly keep asking her if she had seen Heeseung since her return to campus.

You didn’t see him immediately after your return, but you knew it was only a matter of time before your paths crossed. The thought made your stomach twist with a mix of anticipation and nerves. How would he act? Would things be awkward between you now, after what had happened? Or would everything go back to normal, as if that night in your dorm had never occurred?

The first time you saw him again was at the café, during one of your shifts. He walked in, just like he always did, his expression relaxed, though his eyes were searching, scanning the room until they landed on you. The moment your gazes met, something tightened in your chest, and you had to remind yourself to breathe.

“Hey,” Heeseung greeted you when he reached the counter, his voice as calm and collected as ever. But there was something in his eyes, a flicker of uncertainty that mirrored your own feelings.

“Hey,” you replied, managing a smile despite the knot in your stomach. “Back at it, huh?”

“Yeah,” he said, nodding as he glanced around the café. “I guess we all are.”

The exchange was simple, casual, the way it had always been. But beneath the surface, there was something else—an unspoken question that neither of you seemed ready to address.

As you made his usual order, you couldn’t help but wonder how things had gotten so complicated. One kiss, and now everything felt different. But different didn’t necessarily mean bad, and you had to remind yourself of that.

Heeseung took his drink with a small smile, his fingers brushing against yours for just a moment. The contact sent a jolt through you, and you quickly pulled your hand back, your cheeks warming despite the cold weather outside.

“I’ll see you around,” he said, his voice low, almost hesitant.

“Yeah,” you replied, your own voice a little unsteady. “See you.”

He left the café, and you watched him go, your heart beating faster than it should have. The tension between you was thick, and it was clear that the kiss had changed things. But what that change meant, neither of you seemed ready to confront just yet.

The weeks that followed were a blur of activity—catching up on coursework, preparing for the upcoming fencing matches, late nights spent with your friends, and hours at the café. Your days were full, your schedule hectic, but through it all, your thoughts kept returning to Heeseung. You saw him often, both at the café and around campus, and every time, the same tension lingered between you.

There were moments when you almost brought it up, when the words were on the tip of your tongue, but each time, you hesitated, unsure of how to proceed. And Heeseung, for all his calmness, seemed to be in the same boat. The casual texts continued, the friendly exchanges at the café, but the subject of that night was never touched.

Instead, the two of you danced around it, waiting for the right moment to address the elephant in the room. But with each passing day, the tension only grew, the anticipation of what was to come hanging over you like a shadow.

Winter began to disappear, the days becoming longer and warming with the promise of spring around the corner. The campus was quiet, the energy of the new semester giving way to the steady grind of classes, assignments, and practices. You threw yourself into your work, into fencing, into anything that could distract you from the unresolved feelings swirling inside you.

But no matter how busy you kept yourself, the thoughts of Heeseung remained, a constant presence in the back of your mind. And with each encounter, each brief exchange, the tension between you became harder to ignore.

You knew that eventually, something would have to give, that the two of you would need to talk about what had happened. But for now, you kept it at bay, letting the weeks pass by in a blur, holding on to the hope that when the time came, you would both be ready to face whatever it was that lay ahead.

The cafeteria buzzed with the usual lunchtime energy, the clatter of trays and the hum of conversations filling the air as you made your way to the table where Chaeyoung and Jay were already seated. You spotted them easily—Jay’s animated gestures and Chaeyoung’s bright laughter were hard to miss in the crowd.

As you approached, Jay waved you over with a grin. “Y/N, over here!”

You smiled, sliding into the seat across from them. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Not much,” Chaeyoung replied, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Just trying to convince Jay that he can’t live off ramen alone.”

Jay rolled his eyes, dramatically shoving a forkful of salad into his mouth. “You sound like my mom.”

The three of you laughed, the easy banter a welcome break from the usual stress of classes and fencing practice. As you dug into your food, you noticed Jay giving Chaeyoung a subtle nudge, his eyes flicking toward the entrance.

You turned to see what had caught their attention, and your heart skipped a beat when you spotted Heeseung walking toward your table. He was carrying a tray, his expression as casual as ever, but there was a slight uncertainty in his eyes, as if he wasn’t sure if he was intruding.

“Heeseung!” Jay called out, waving him over. “Join us!”

Heeseung’s gaze met yours, and he smiled, the uncertainty in his eyes fading as he approached. “Hey,” he greeted, setting his tray down beside yours. “Mind if I sit here?”

“Not at all,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. “The more, the merrier.”

As Heeseung settled in beside you, Jay and Chaeyoung exchanged a quick glance, their expressions unreadable but not entirely innocent. You had a feeling they were up to something, but before you could question them, Jay spoke up.

“So, Heeseung,” Jay began, leaning forward slightly, “did Y/N tell you about her birthday this weekend?”

Your eyes widened, a mix of surprise and mild horror flashing through you. “Jay!”

“What?” Jay said, feigning innocence, though the glint in his eye betrayed him. “It’s a big deal, you know.”

Heeseung turned to you, his eyebrows raised in surprise. “It’s your birthday this weekend?”

You sighed, shooting Jay a mock glare before nodding. “Yeah, it is. But it’s not a big deal or anything.”

“Not a big deal?” Chaeyoung scoffed, shaking her head. “It’s a huge deal. We’re throwing you a party, whether you like it or not.”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips gave away your true feelings. “Okay, okay, fine. But don’t make it sound like some grand event.”

Jay grinned, clearly pleased with himself. “Too late.”

Heeseung chuckled, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “A party, huh? Sounds like fun.”

There was a moment of hesitation before you spoke, a slight nervousness in your chest as you glanced at him. “You should come. If you’re not busy, I mean.”

Heeseung’s smile widened, the invitation clearly catching him off guard in the best way. “I’d love to. Thanks for inviting me.”

“Great!” Chaeyoung said, clapping her hands together. “It’s going to be so much fun. We’ll have food, drinks, music—the whole shebang.”

Jay leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms with a satisfied grin. “And now that Heeseung’s coming, it’s officially a party.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the earlier tension melting away as the conversation shifted back to more mundane topics. Despite Jay’s “accidental” reveal, you found yourself looking forward to the weekend more than you had expected.

As lunch went on, you noticed how easily Heeseung fit in with your friends. He was still a bit more reserved than Jay and Chaeyoung, but he joined in on the jokes, adding his own dry humor to the mix. And every now and then, you’d catch him glancing at you, a soft smile on his lips that made your heart flutter.

When lunch ended, and you all went your separate ways, Heeseung walked with you toward your next class. The conversation between you was light, but there was an underlying warmth that hadn’t been there before—a new level of comfort that you hadn’t realized you’d reached.

As you parted ways, Heeseung gave you a small wave, his smile lingering as he turned to head to his class. You watched him go, a strange mix of anticipation and nervousness bubbling up inside you. The thought of spending more time with him, of having him at your party, filled you with a sense of excitement you hadn’t expected.

The night of your birthday party at Ryujin’s off-campus apartment started with a mix of excitement and anticipation. Ryujin had outdone herself, turning the place into a cozy, festive spot perfect for a low-key celebration. Streamers hung from the ceiling, and fairy lights twinkled against the walls. The living room buzzed with the energy of your friends, some of whom you saw regularly, while others were more like friendly acquaintances. Everyone was in high spirits, eager to celebrate.

You moved through the room, a drink in hand, exchanging smiles and hugs. Gaeul, your teammate, had handed you a brightly colored drink that tasted suspiciously like it had more alcohol than fruit juice, and she watched with a grin as you took a sip.

"Careful with that one," she warned, winking. "It might knock you out before the night even starts."

You laughed, setting the drink down on a nearby table. "I’ll keep that in mind."

Chaehyun, your roommate, was nearby, introducing you to a couple of her friends from class, Chaeryeong and Yunjin. They were friendly and already deep in conversation with Kai and Minhee. It felt nice to have everyone together, the lines between different friend groups blurring as the night went on.

Jay, who had arrived early to help set up, was making his way through the crowd, chatting up anyone who would listen to his latest story. You caught his eye, and he grinned, making a beeline for you.

"Having fun, birthday girl?" he asked, slinging an arm around your shoulders.

"So far, so good," you replied, smiling up at him. "Thanks for helping with all this."

"Anything for you," Jay said with a wink, though his attention quickly shifted as he spotted someone new entering the room. "Oh, look who finally decided to show up!"

You followed his gaze and felt your heart skip a beat. Heeseung had just walked in, looking slightly flustered as he scanned the room. When his eyes landed on you, a small smile tugged at his lips, and he made his way over.

“Happy birthday, Y/N,” Heeseung said, holding out a small, neatly wrapped gift.

“Thanks, Heeseung,” you said, accepting the gift with a grin. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

He shrugged, his smile easy. “It’s nothing big. Just thought you might like it.”

Before you could respond, Jay interrupted, nudging you both. “We’re about to start a game. You two in?”

“What kind of game?” Heeseung asked, his eyes narrowing with playful suspicion.

Jay’s grin was almost wicked. “Oh, just a little something to spice up the night. ‘Never Have I Ever,’ but with a twist.”

Heeseung looked at you, one eyebrow raised. “What’s the twist?”

“If you’ve done something, you take a shot,” Jay explained, his grin widening. “But if you haven’t, you have to answer a truth question. No dodging, no skipping turns.”

You exchanged a glance with Heeseung, who looked amused but not entirely convinced. “Sure, why not?” you said, giving Jay a challenging look. “This should be fun.”

Heeseung chuckled, shaking his head. “Alright, I’m in.”

Ryujin and the others had already started pulling chairs into a circle, setting out shots of soju. You and Heeseung found seats next to each other, with Jay taking the spot directly across from you, a mischievous glint in his eye.

The game started off relatively tame, with questions about skipping class and sneaking into movies. A few rounds in, and everyone was laughing, swapping stories of their more rebellious moments. You noticed Heeseung hadn’t taken a shot yet, answering truth questions with a cool demeanor that only made you more curious about him.

Then it was Jay’s turn again, and you could practically see the gears turning in his head. “Alright, let’s see… Never have I ever… skipped class to go on a date.”

A murmur of interest went around the circle. You glanced at Heeseung out of the corner of your eye, but to your surprise, he didn’t reach for his drink. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, looking almost smug.

You raised an eyebrow. “Really? Not even once?”

Heeseung shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. “Nope. But feel free to ask your truth question.”

Jay’s eyes lit up. “Oh, I’ve got a good one. What’s the most ridiculous reason you’ve ever skipped class?”

Heeseung thought for a moment, his expression thoughtful. “Well, there was that time I skipped because I was trying to catch this rare Pokémon that only appeared on campus at a certain time.”

The room erupted into laughter, and you couldn’t help but join in. “You’re kidding,” you said, wiping a tear from the corner of your eye. You hadn’t clocked him of being a dork under his cool and mysterious exterior.

Heeseung shrugged, a little sheepish. “Hey, it was a once-in-a-lifetime chance.”

Jay was practically cackling at this point. “And did you catch it?”

Heeseung nodded, deadpan. “Yes, I did. Worth every missed lecture.”

The game continued, with the questions growing more and more outrageous. Chaehyun ended up confessing to a particularly embarrassing childhood crush, while Kai revealed that he’d once tried—and failed—to pull off a heist involving the school cafeteria’s dessert stash.

The night was filled with laughter and teasing, and it wasn’t long before everyone was a little tipsy. At one point, Ryujin suggested they switch to a different game, but you noticed Heeseung was looking a bit out of place, like he wasn’t entirely comfortable with the increasingly bold questions.

Sensing an opportunity, you leaned over and whispered, “Wanna get some fresh air?”

Heeseung looked relieved and nodded. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

You stood up, motioning for Jay to keep things going without you. He gave you a knowing look but didn’t say anything, just raised his glass in a silent toast. You rolled your eyes at him before leading Heeseung out onto the balcony.

The cool night air was a welcome change from the warmth inside. The city lights twinkled in the distance, and the noise of the party was muffled out here, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of relative quiet.

“This is nice,” Heeseung said, leaning against the railing. “Thanks for the escape.”

“Anytime,” you replied, leaning next to him. “I figured you might want a break from Jay’s interrogation.”

Heeseung chuckled. “He’s something else, isn’t he?”

You nodded, looking out at the city. “He means well, though. Just likes to stir the pot.”

There was a comfortable silence for a moment, the kind where neither of you felt the need to fill it with words. You glanced at Heeseung, and he met your gaze, his expression thoughtful.

“You’re good at this,” he said softly, almost like he was thinking out loud.

“At what?” you asked, curious.

“Making people feel comfortable,” Heeseung replied, his voice warm. “It’s… nice.”

You felt a flutter in your chest at his words. “You’re pretty easy to talk to yourself, you know.”

Heeseung smiled, and for a moment, the distance between you seemed to shrink. You could feel the tension, the quiet pull of attraction that had been building over the past few weeks. Heeseung seemed to sense it too, his eyes flickering to your lips before he leaned in slightly, almost instinctively.

Just as you both started to close the distance, the door to the balcony burst open, and Jake stumbled out, laughing loudly at something from inside.

“Oh, sorry!” Jake said, not really sounding sorry at all. “Didn’t mean to interrupt!”

You and Heeseung quickly pulled back, both of you laughing awkwardly. Jake gave you a grin, completely oblivious to the moment he’d just ruined.

“Ryujin’s looking for you, Y/N,” Jake said, pointing a thumb over his shoulder. “Something about a cake?”

“Right, the cake,” you said, nodding. “Thanks, Jake.”

Heeseung gave you a small, understanding smile as you both turned to head back inside. The moment had passed, but the underlying connection was still there, unspoken but undeniable.

As you rejoined the party, Ryujin was indeed waiting for you with a cake in hand, everyone gathering around to sing happy birthday. The rest of the night passed in a blur of laughter, drinks, and good-natured teasing, and though you and Heeseung didn’t get another moment alone, there was a new understanding between you, a shared secret that made the night feel just a little bit more special.

As the party wound down and people started to leave, Heeseung caught your eye one last time, giving you a small smile before he left with Jake and Sunghoon. You watched him go, feeling a mix of frustration and sadness about all of the unspoken and what could’ve been on the balcony just hours prior.

It started with the alarm that didn’t go off. The shrill beeping you depended on had decided to take a day off, and by the time you jolted awake, it was already half an hour later than you needed. Panic set in as you scrambled out of bed, tripping over the tangled mess of your sheets, and hurriedly throwing on whatever clothes you could find. Chaehyun was already gone, leaving you in the quiet chaos of your room, the day off to a rough start.

Fencing practice was the next disaster. You were already flustered by the time you arrived, barely on time, and it showed. Your footwork was sloppy, your attacks lacked precision, and the more frustrated you got, the worse it became. Ryujin noticed, of course—she always did.

“You’re out of sync today,” she said, her tone a mix of concern and criticism as she watched you flounder through another round.

“I know,” you muttered, teeth gritted as you tried to shake off the growing sense of defeat. But it was no use; nothing was going right. You kept messing up drills you’d mastered ages ago, each mistake a sharp sting of embarrassment. By the end of practice, you were practically shaking with frustration, and it took everything in you to hold back tears.

It wasn’t just fencing, though. Your grades, which you’d managed to keep steady despite your packed schedule, were starting to slip. The latest exam, one you thought you’d done reasonably well on, came back with a grade lower than you’d expected. The red ink on the paper felt like a slap in the face, the professor’s comments blurring as you stared at them, trying to make sense of where you went wrong. It was a blow to your confidence, and you felt the cracks in your carefully maintained composure widening.

Midterms loomed, casting a shadow over everything. The stress was building, a constant pressure in the back of your mind. You could feel the weight of it all, the expectation to perform well, to balance everything perfectly. But instead of rising to the challenge, you felt like you were barely holding on, the threads of your routine unraveling bit by bit.

Then came work. You were late, of course—stumbling through the door of the coffee shop a full fifteen minutes past your shift’s start time. Your boss, a stern woman with little patience for tardiness, was waiting for you behind the counter, arms crossed.

“Y/N, this is the third time this month,” she said, her voice clipped. “You can’t keep showing up late like this. We depend on you to be here on time.”

“I’m sorry,” you stammered, trying to keep the wobble out of your voice. “It won’t happen again.”

But she wasn’t in the mood for apologies. “It better not. We need reliability, Y/N. If you can’t manage your time, maybe you need to reconsider your hours.”

You nodded, biting your lip to keep the tears at bay. The scolding was just the cherry on top of an already terrible day, and you could feel yourself breaking down, the weight of everything crashing down on you at once. You threw yourself into your work, trying to distract yourself, but the knot in your chest only tightened as the minutes ticked by.

It was mid-afternoon when Heeseung walked in. He came in as he usually did, with that quiet, unassuming presence that made him easy to overlook—except you never overlooked him. Today, though, you barely registered his entrance. You were wiping down the counter, your eyes stinging with unshed tears, your thoughts a whirl of self-doubt and frustration.

You didn’t notice him until he was standing right in front of you, his usual order on the tip of his tongue. But when you looked up at him, the dam finally broke. The tears you’d been holding back all day spilled over, and you quickly turned away, hoping he hadn’t seen. 

“Y/N?” Heeseung’s voice was soft, concerned. He hesitated before speaking again. “Are you okay?”

It was such a simple question, but it was enough to undo you completely. You tried to brush it off, to muster some kind of excuse, but the words caught in your throat, choked by the sobs you were trying so desperately to suppress.

“Hey, hey,” Heeseung said, his voice full of concern now. “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head, not trusting yourself to speak. But Heeseung wasn’t deterred. He reached out, his hand gently touching your arm. The small gesture of kindness undid you completely.

“I’m just…” You managed to choke out the words between sobs. “It’s just been a really bad day.”

Heeseung’s brow furrowed with worry, and he glanced around the cafe. It was quiet, with only a couple of customers seated far from the counter starting to try and discreetly turn their heads to look at you. He took a deep breath, then leaned in closer.

“Let me take you for a quick walk,” he suggested. “You need a break.”

You hesitated, glancing toward the back room where your boss was probably busy. The thought of getting scolded again made you cringe, but Heeseung was already taking your hand, leading you out from behind the counter.

“Just for a minute,” he insisted, his tone leaving little room for argument.

The fresh air hit you like a slap, but it also helped clear your head a little. Heeseung guided you down the street, keeping a firm but gentle hold on your hand. He didn’t say anything at first, just let you cry, his presence steady and comforting.

When you finally managed to catch your breath, you wiped your eyes with the back of your hand, feeling embarrassed. “I’m sorry. I’m a mess right now,” you muttered.

“Don’t be sorry,” Heeseung replied, his voice soft. “Everyone has bad days.”

You took a shaky breath, feeling the weight of his words. “It’s just… everything’s piling up. Fencing, school, work… I feel like I’m failing at all of it.”

Heeseung frowned, clearly troubled by your words. “You’re not failing. You’re just dealing with a lot right now.”

You tried to smile, but it came out more like a grimace. “I wish I felt that way.”

Heeseung squeezed your hand gently. “You don’t have to do it all on your own, you know. It’s okay to ask for help.”

The sincerity in his voice almost brought fresh tears to your eyes, but you managed to hold them back. You nodded, feeling a little better, though still weighed down by everything.

As you continued walking, the weight on your chest didn’t seem to lift entirely. The day wasn’t just bad because of fencing or school; it was deeper than that, a gnawing homesickness you hadn’t fully acknowledged. Your thoughts drifted to your family, the ache of missing them growing sharper with each step.

“I missed my brother’s birthday,” you confessed, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “He just turned six. I couldn’t even call him because I was too busy with exams and practice. I feel like a terrible sister.”

Heeseung stopped, turning to face you with a look of understanding that made your heart clench. “That doesn’t make you a bad sister. It’s hard being away from family, especially when you’re trying to juggle so much. But I’m sure your brother knows you care about him.”

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I just feel so… disconnected from everything. Like I’m here, but my heart is still back home with them.”

Heeseung’s expression softened, and without a word, he pulled you into a hug. It was the first time he’d hugged you, and the warmth of it took you by surprise. You hesitated for a moment before leaning into him, letting the comfort of his embrace wash over you. It wasn’t just about the bad day anymore; it was about everything you’d been holding in—the homesickness, the loneliness, the pressure to be perfect.

“It’s okay to miss them,” Heeseung murmured, his voice close to your ear. “And it’s okay to feel overwhelmed. But you’re not alone, Y/N. You have people here who care about you, too.”

His words, coupled with the steady beat of his heart against your cheek, made you feel a little less alone, a little more understood. You stayed like that for a few moments longer, until the worst of your tears had dried and you felt like you could breathe again.

You lingered in Heeseung's embrace a moment longer, taking in the warmth and steady reassurance of his hold. But as you began to pull away, the reality of the moment hit you, and suddenly, the air between you felt charged, different. When you looked up at him, you noticed that he seemed just as affected, his usual calm demeanor tinged with a slight awkwardness.

Heeseung's hands slipped from your back, hovering uncertainly at his sides as if he wasn’t quite sure what to do with them. His gaze flickered away from yours, a faint blush creeping up his neck. “Um, yeah,” he stammered, taking a small step back to create some distance. “We should probably get you back inside… before your boss sends out a search party.”

You nodded, feeling a strange mix of comfort and confusion as you noticed his hesitation. There was something unspoken between you, a tension that hadn’t been there before. It made you suddenly hyper-aware of how close you’d been, how natural it had felt to be in his arms, even though it probably shouldn’t have.

“Yeah, right,” you agreed, your voice coming out softer than you intended. You both stood there for a moment longer, the silence between you making it hard to move.

Heeseung cleared his throat, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Let’s, uh… let’s get back in there,” he said, offering a small, almost nervous smile as he gestured toward the cafe door.

You nodded again, trying to shake off the lingering tension. As you walked back inside together, you couldn’t help but feel like something had shifted, something you weren’t quite ready to name yet. And when you returned to your post behind the counter, you found yourself stealing glances at Heeseung as he quietly ordered his usual, both of you a bit more aware of each other than before.

You had known it was a setup from the moment Chaehyun suggested the theme park. She’d brought it up casually during lunch a few days earlier, her tone almost too nonchalant as she insisted it would be “fun to go as a group.” The twinkle in her eye had told you all you needed to know—this was no innocent group outing; this was a double date, carefully orchestrated with Minhee and Heeseung as the leading men.

Saturday came around with clear skies and a cool breeze, perfect weather for a day at the park. You stood in front of your dorm mirror, adjusting the hem of your sweater—a soft and creamy beige that complemented your dark jeans. Your hair was loosely tied back, a few dark strands escaping to frame your face. You’d opted for a casual, comfortable look, but there was an extra layer of care in your appearance today, and you couldn’t help but feel the familiar flutter of nerves as you thought about spending the day with Heeseung.

Chaehyun was already waiting outside, her usual bubbly self. She looked effortlessly cute in a pastel pink hoodie and a pleated skirt, her long hair falling in waves around her shoulders. When she saw you, she beamed, linking her arm through yours.

“You look so pretty!” she gushed, giving you a playful nudge. “Heeseung’s going to love it.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t suppress a small smile. “I’m not dressing up for him,” you lied, though the quickening of your pulse said otherwise.

Chaehyun didn’t buy it for a second, but she let it slide. As the two of you made your way to the entrance of the park, you spotted Heeseung and Minhee waiting near the ticket booth. Heeseung was dressed in a simple black pullover and jeans, his dark hair slightly tousled as if he’d run his fingers through it one too many times. He looked casual but undeniably handsome, and your heart did a little flip when he looked up and met your gaze, a small smile playing on his lips.

Minhee, standing beside him, was as well-dressed as ever. He wore a navy blue jacket over a white t-shirt, his expression relaxed and easygoing. He greeted you with a warm smile as you approached, his hand already intertwined with Chaehyun’s.

“Ready for a fun day?” Minhee asked, his tone light as he gave Chaehyun a quick peck on the cheek.

Chaehyun blushed, giggling as she nudged him playfully. “Yes! I’ve been looking forward to this all week.”

You exchanged a quick glance with Heeseung, who shrugged, a knowing look in his eyes. “Guess we’re in for an interesting day,” he murmured, his voice low enough for only you to hear.

As you all headed into the park, the atmosphere was a mix of excitement and nervous energy. The sounds of laughter and screams from nearby rides filled the air, and the scent of popcorn and cotton candy wafted through the breeze. The four of you stuck together, moving from ride to ride, each one more thrilling than the last.

“So, do you only own black clothes? Is this like some sort of statement?” You poked fun at Heeseung’s typical attire.

“Just for you,” He teased back with a wink.

It wasn’t until you reached the ride with the large circular seating area—a notorious challenge to stay seated in—that things took a more interesting turn. The ride was infamous for its sudden drops and spins, designed to send everyone sliding toward the center, no matter how hard they tried to stay put.

You hesitated for a moment as you looked at the ride, the large circular rimmed seating area intimidating in its simplicity. “This is going to be a disaster,” you muttered under your breath, though you couldn’t deny the thrill of excitement that accompanied the thought.

Chaehyun, already seated with Minhee, shot you a grin. “Come on, Y/N! It’ll be fun!”

Heeseung was right behind you, and as you took your seat next to him, the ever-present tension between you seemed to magnify. The ride started with a slow spin, the deceptively calm beginning lulling you into a false sense of security. But soon, the speed picked up, and before you knew it, you were sliding uncontrollably toward the center.

You tried to brace yourself, but the force was too strong, and you found yourself being pulled off your seat. A yelp of surprise escaped your lips as you lost your balance, but before you could fall completely, Heeseung’s arm shot out, grabbing onto your waist.

The contact sent a jolt through you, the warmth of his hand on your waist grounding you in a way that was both comforting and electrifying. You clung to the edge of your seat, but the ride’s relentless spinning kept pushing you closer to Heeseung. Eventually, you gave up trying to fight it and let yourself lean into him, his arm still securely around your waist. Despite the electricity floating through your body, you couldn’t help but laugh. Throwing your head back, you looked at the boy pressed into your side, his widened eyes taking in your laughter and returning it.

When the ride finally came to a stop, you were breathless, both from the adrenaline and from the proximity to Heeseung. He helped you off the ride, his hand lingering on your waist a moment longer than necessary before he let go, a sheepish smile on his face.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice tinged with amusement.

“Yeah,” you replied, your heart still racing. “Thanks for the save.”

“Anytime,” he said, his tone light, though there was a flicker of something more in his eyes.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of laughter, shared snacks, and playful teasing. Chaehyun and Minhee were in their own world, holding hands and stealing kisses, while you and Heeseung found yourselves caught in a dance of subtle flirtation. There were moments when your hands would brush as you reached for the same snack, or when your eyes would meet across the table, the unspoken tension between you growing with each passing hour.

At one point, as you all gathered around a table to share a meal, Minhee nudged Chaehyun, whispering something in her ear that made her giggle. You shot them a suspicious look, but before you could ask what they were up to, Heeseung leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear.

“I think they’re planning something,” he said, his voice low and teasing.

“Probably,” you replied, rolling your eyes. “They’re not exactly subtle.”

Heeseung chuckled, the sound sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. “Well, whatever it is, I’m sure we can handle it.”

The day stretched into the evening, the sun setting in a blaze of orange and pink. As the park began to quiet down, the four of you decided to take one last ride on the Ferris wheel, the giant structure offering a perfect view of the park illuminated by twinkling lights.

You found yourself seated next to Heeseung in the small carriage, the ride slow and gentle compared to the chaotic one earlier. The height gave you a breathtaking view of the city beyond, but your attention was more focused on the boy sitting next to you, his profile highlighted by the golden glow of the sunset.

Heeseung turned to you, his expression softer than you’d seen all day. “Did you have fun today?”

“Yeah,” you admitted, your voice equally soft. “More than I expected.”

“Good,” he said, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I’m glad we came.”

There was a moment of silence, the air thick with unspoken words. You felt the urge to say something, to break the tension that had been building all day, but before you could, the carriage came to a stop at the top of the Ferris wheel, giving you both a moment of stillness.

Heeseung glanced at you, his gaze lingering on your lips for a fraction of a second before he quickly looked away, the tips of his ears turning pink. The sight made your heart flutter, and you couldn’t help but smile at his sudden shyness.

Just as you were about to say something, the moment was interrupted by Chaehyun’s voice, calling out from the carriage below. “Y/N! Heeseung! What’s taking you so long up there?”

The ride jolted back into motion, slowly lowering you back to the ground. You let out a small laugh, shaking your head at Chaehyun’s timing. When you looked back at Heeseung, he was smiling too, though there was a hint of disappointment in his eyes.

As the four of you made your way out of the park, the night air cool against your skin, you couldn’t help but feel that something had shifted between you and Heeseung. The day had been full of fun and laughter, but there was a deeper connection forming, one that you were both cautiously exploring.

As you parted ways at the entrance, Heeseung caught your hand for a brief moment, his touch gentle but firm. “Let’s do this again sometime,” he spoke softly, his voice sincere.

You nodded, a warm feeling spreading through your chest. “I’d like that.”

With a final smile, Heeseung let go of your hand and turned to walk away in the opposite direction from the one you were heading towards, leaving you to join Minhee and Chaehyun as they headed toward the bus stop. 

The sound of your blade slicing through the air echoes in the nearly empty gym. The rhythmic clang of metal on metal and the soft scuffle of your footwork are the only noises breaking the silence. It’s late, later than usual for practice, but you’ve been putting in extra hours, trying to perfect your technique before the upcoming tournament.

You’ve just finished a set of lunges when the gym door creaks open. You look up, expecting to see one of your teammates, but it’s Heeseung, hovering in the doorway with his usual quiet presence. His camera bag is slung over one shoulder, and he gives you a tentative smile, as if unsure whether he’s intruding.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” you say, catching your breath.

Heeseung steps inside, closing the door behind him. “Thought I’d come by for some last-minute insights for the article,” he says, tapping the side of his bag. “But it looks like you’re flying solo tonight.”

You nod, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face. “Yeah, everyone else is either cramming for exams or getting some rest before the big match. But I needed to clear my head.”

Heeseung watches as you place your saber on the rack, his gaze lingering a little longer than usual. There’s something different in the way he looks at you tonight—more intent, more focused. It makes your heart beat a little faster.

“Wanna see what it’s like?” you ask suddenly, the idea forming as the words leave your mouth.

Heeseung raises an eyebrow, caught off guard. “You mean... fence?”

“Why not?” you challenge, already heading toward the gear closet. “You’re writing about it. Might as well experience it firsthand.”

He hesitates, but there’s a glint of curiosity in his eyes. “I’m not exactly athletic,” he warns, even as he moves to follow you.

You grin, tossing him a chest protector and jacket. “That’s okay. I’ll go easy on you.”

It takes a few minutes to get him suited up—chest protector, jacket, mask—and you have to suppress a laugh at how awkward he looks in the gear. But there’s something endearing about the way he fumbles with the straps, his usual confidence replaced with uncertainty.

“Ready?” you ask, holding out a saber to him.

Heeseung takes it, testing its weight with a cautious swing. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

You both take your positions on the piste, the lines on the floor suddenly feeling much narrower with Heeseung across from you. His stance is stiff, awkward—nothing like the fluidity and precision you’ve honed over years of practice. But you can’t help but admire his willingness to try.

You advance slowly, giving him time to adjust. He attempts a feeble parry, which you easily dodge, your blade tapping his chest protector with a soft thud.

“Point,” you say, grinning under your mask. “But don’t worry, you’ll get the hang of it.”

Heeseung groans, adjusting his grip. “You sure you’re going easy on me?”

You shrug, preparing for another advance. “Maybe just a little.”

You move in again, a bit faster this time, and Heeseung reacts instinctively, swinging his blade up in a wild arc. It’s completely off-target, and in his attempt to recover, he loses his balance, stumbling into you.

Before you can react, you’re both crashing to the ground, Heeseung’s weight knocking you off your feet. You land with a soft thud, your sabers clattering to the floor beside you. For a moment, there’s nothing but the sound of your combined laughter echoing through the empty gym.

You roll onto your back, still laughing, and Heeseung does the same, the awkwardness of earlier forgotten. Lying there on the cold gym floor, you’re suddenly aware of how close he is, his shoulder brushing against yours.

“You’re terrible at this,” you tease, nudging him playfully with your elbow.

Heeseung chuckles, turning his head to look at you. His hair is a mess from the mask, and his cheeks are flushed with exertion. “Guess I should stick to writing.”

You’re both still catching your breath, the amusement lingering between you, when the overhead lights suddenly flicker off, plunging the gym into darkness.

You both freeze, the sudden shift in atmosphere catching you off guard. The only light now comes from the emergency exit signs, casting long shadows across the gym floor. In the quiet, you can hear the faint hum of electricity and your own heartbeat, loud in your ears.

“Guess that’s our cue,” Heeseung says softly, his voice barely more than a whisper in the darkness.

But neither of you moves. The silence stretches, the moment growing heavier, more charged. You can feel the warmth of Heeseung’s arm against yours, the proximity sending a thrill through you that’s hard to ignore.

“Maybe,” you whisper back, turning slightly toward him, though you can barely make out his features in the dim light.

There’s a beat of hesitation, the air between you thick with anticipation, before Heeseung shifts closer, his hand brushing against yours, fingers almost—almost—entwining. But just as quickly, he pulls back, the tension breaking like a snapped thread.

“We should probably get up,” he says, voice low, and there’s a note of something—regret, maybe?—that you can’t quite place.

You sit up, the moment slipping away, but the feeling of his touch lingers, a ghost of what might have been. You help each other to your feet, the earlier playfulness replaced by a quiet, unspoken understanding.

As you strip off the gear and pack everything away, the silence continues, comfortable but charged, both of you aware of what didn’t happen but too uncertain to acknowledge it.

“Thanks for indulging me,” Heeseung finally says as you walk toward the exit, the gym door creaking open to the dimly lit hallway beyond.

“Anytime,” you reply, forcing a smile, though your thoughts are still back on the gym floor, replaying the almost-touch of his hand.

You part ways in the hallway, Heeseung giving you a small wave before disappearing down the corridor. You stand there for a moment, staring after him, before turning to head back to your dorm, the ghost of the evening’s events haunting your steps.

As you walk away, you can’t help but wonder what might have happened if the lights had stayed on just a little longer.

The gymnasium buzzed with energy, the air thick with excitement and tension. It was the third fencing tournament of the semester, and the stakes were high. You stood in the wings, your saber gleaming under the harsh gym lights, heart pounding with a mix of adrenaline and nerves. Your team’s performance today would determine whether you advanced to the finals, and the pressure was almost tangible.

You took a deep breath, focusing on the rhythmic patterns of the bout you were about to face. Ryujin and Gaeul were already competing, their focused expressions and swift movements a testament to their skill and determination. You glanced over at them, offering a reassuring nod. They returned it, their expressions masked by their own concentration.

Heeseung was among the crowd, his usual spot near the fencing area where he could get a clear view of the matches. He had become a familiar presence at these tournaments, his keen eyes always scanning the piste with an almost analytical focus. Today, he was positioned just a few feet from the sidelines, notebook in hand, ready to capture the essence of the day’s action. You caught his eye briefly and offered a small, nervous smile. He responded with a warm, encouraging nod.

The whistle blew, signaling the start of your individual match. Your opponent, a formidable competitor from another school, greeted you with a determined look. The match commenced with a flurry of movement. You engaged with swift, practiced attacks and counters, each move precise and deliberate. The crowd’s murmurs and the rhythmic clang of sabers filled your ears as you focused intently on your strategy.

Minutes ticked by as the match intensified. Your opponent was relentless, pressing you hard, and you found yourself on the defensive. You could feel the strain in your legs and the tension in your shoulders as you fought to maintain your balance and composure. The energy in the gym was electric, and every touch was met with reactions from the audience—gasps, cheers, and murmurs of anticipation.

In a particularly aggressive exchange, you executed a move that you had practiced countless times. Your saber darted out, aiming for a decisive touch, but as you pivoted, your footing faltered. The floor, worn from numerous tournaments, betrayed you. Your right ankle twisted painfully, and before you could react, you stumbled and fell awkwardly. The world seemed to tilt as you hit the ground, a sharp, blinding pain radiating from your ankle.

The referee’s whistle pierced through the haze of pain, and the match was abruptly halted. The crowd’s noise faded into the background as you lay on the floor, clutching your ankle, struggling to steady your breath through the searing agony. Tears welled up in your eyes, the pain mingling with a deep sense of frustration and helplessness.

Heeseung, who had been taking notes at the sidelines, immediately sprang into action. His face was a mask of concern as he pushed through the crowd, his usual calm demeanor giving way to an urgent determination. His strides were quick and purposeful, his eyes locked onto you as he reached your side.

“Y/N!” he called out, his voice a mix of worry and desperation. “Are you okay?”

You could barely manage a nod, the pain overwhelming your ability to speak. Heeseung’s hands were gentle but firm as he examined your injured ankle, his concern evident in every touch. The athletic trainers arrived quickly, their expressions reflecting the seriousness of the situation. They assessed your injury with practiced efficiency, their movements careful as they wrapped your ankle and prepared you for transport.

As they carefully lifted you onto a stretcher and began to move you towards the exit, Heeseung remained by your side, his presence a steadying force amid the chaos. He stayed close, offering words of comfort and reassurance, though his own face betrayed his anxiety.

The drive to the university hospital was a blur of pain and worry. You were transported from the gym to the emergency room, the pain in your ankle throbbing with each bump in the road. The reality of your situation was beginning to sink in, and the frustration of being sidelined from the tournament weighed heavily on you.

Upon arrival at the hospital, you were quickly ushered into an examination room. The medical staff worked efficiently, but the pain was still intense, and your emotions were frayed. The room was filled with the quiet beeps of medical equipment and the murmurs of the staff as they prepared to assess your injury. The medical staff worked efficiently, but the pain and the stress of the situation left you feeling utterly vulnerable. As the minutes ticked by, you couldn’t help but feel isolated in your distress.

Then, through the haze of your own pain, you caught a glimpse of movement in the doorway. Taehyun and Kai appeared, their faces etched with concern and relief as they spotted you. The sight of them, familiar and comforting, was a balm to your frayed nerves.

Their worried expressions immediately softened into empathetic smiles as they hurried over to your side. “Y/N, we saw what happened,” Taehyun said softly, his voice filled with concern. “Are you okay?”

The moment their voices reached you, the dam broke. The tears that had been threatening to spill finally cascaded down your cheeks, the emotional release of seeing your friends overwhelming. You tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat. The pain and frustration of the day, compounded by the sight of your friends, brought a torrent of emotion.

Kai reached out, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Don’t worry,” he said, his voice steady. “It’ll be okay.”

As you tried to compose yourself, you saw Heeseung standing just outside the doorway, his figure barely visible in the hallway. The sight of him only made the tears flow even harder.

Taehyun and Kai stayed by your side, offering comfort and reassurance. Some others arrived within the hour as you waited on the results from the X-Ray, Chaehyun was already near tears before entering the room and Jay attempted to joke with the small group, though there was evident difficulty. Heeseung, however, was nowhere to be found.

The bright lights of the hospital room cast an unyielding glare on your frustration. The pain in your ankle was relentless, a constant reminder of the day’s events. Your friends had been with you, offering their support, but they had left to grab dinner, promising to return soon. The room was quiet, save for the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor and the occasional footfalls in the hallway.

You stared at the ceiling, feeling the weight of the day’s events pressing down on you. The nurse had just delivered the news: a fractured ankle that would require a boot for a few months but no surgery. The immediate relief of not needing surgery was overshadowed by the crushing realization that you would miss the rest of the fencing season. The dreams and aspirations for the semester seemed to crumble in the face of this new reality.

The door to your room opened slowly, and Heeseung slipped inside. His usually calm demeanor was tinged with concern. Seeing you alone and clearly distressed, he approached your bedside with a quiet urgency. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice carrying a note of genuine care. “How are you holding up?”

You tried to muster a smile, but it faltered. “It’s not good. The X-ray showed a fracture. I have to wear a boot for a few months. It means I’m out for the rest of the fencing season.”

Heeseung’s expression softened with empathy. He took a seat beside you, a small weighted sigh leaving his lips. “I’m really sorry to hear that,” he said gently. “I know how much fencing means to you.”

You nodded, feeling a lump rise in your throat. The reality of missing out on the season was hitting hard. “I worked so hard for this. The season was everything to me, and now I’m just… done. It’s like everything I’ve worked for is just slipping away.”

Heeseung reached out, his fingers delicately brushing down the side of your hair as he smoothed away some strands that had been stuck to your face with tears. You involuntarily flinched at his touch, a gesture so sweet but entirely meant for something more than just friends or whatever line you had been dancing on for months.

As you fought to keep your composure, the door opened again, and Taehyun and Kai returned with takeout with Chaehyun and Jay trailing shortly behind. Their faces lit up with relief as they saw Heeseung. They set the bags down and greeted him with nods of recognition.

“Hey, Heeseung,” Taehyun said, his eyes flicking between you and the new arrival. “We didn’t expect to see you here,” he added in a tone that indicated that they had actually wholeheartedly expected him to be here.

Kai pulled up a chair and began unpacking the food, trying to lighten the mood. “We’ve got all your favorites. Maybe it’ll help take your mind off things, at least for a little while.”

The room began to fill with the comforting aroma of food as the group gathered around. The conversation shifted to lighter topics, but the underlying tension about your injury was palpable. Heeseung’s quiet support was a steady presence amidst the chatter.

As the evening wore on, the mood lightened somewhat thanks to Jay’s attempts at humor and the shared closeness. Yet, the reality of your injury and the impact it would have on your fencing career loomed large.

When the food was almost finished and the room was filled with the sounds of friends chatting and laughing, you caught a glimpse of Heeseung standing quietly by the doorway. His gaze met yours, and you could see the concern in his eyes. The sight of him, a reminder of the support and understanding you had around you, made it all the more difficult to keep your emotions in check. Your gazes continued their lock as everything around you, the increasingly serious conversation between Jay and Kai about a new video game and the steady beeping of the hospital machines in the room, faded out leaving only your heartbeat thumping in your ears and a million thoughts swirling around in your head about the boy across the room from you.

Spring had finally settled over the campus, bringing with it warmer days and a sense of renewal. The trees were bursting with blossoms, and the air was filled with the buzz of students eager for the semester to end. For you, the past few weeks had been a blur of classes, physical therapy sessions, and quiet moments spent reflecting on what could have been. The boot on your ankle had become a familiar part of your daily routine, though it was a constant reminder of the season you had lost.

Today, however, you were looking forward to something different—a chance to take a break from the weight of your injury and celebrate the accomplishments of your friends. The journalism club was hosting their end-of-the-year showcase, where they would unveil their final magazine. The event was a big deal on campus, a night where everyone could see the hard work and creativity that had gone into the club’s projects over the semester.

You, Jay, and Jake made your way to the event together. The three of you had been spending more time together lately, and their easygoing personalities made it easier to forget about your troubles, even if just for a little while. Jay walked beside you, his usual relaxed smile on his face, while Jake, as always, was full of energy and chatter.

“You excited to see the magazine?” Jake asked as you approached the auditorium where the showcase was being held.

“Yeah, I am,” you replied, trying to keep up with them despite the boot. “I’ve been curious to see how the article turned out.”

Jay glanced over at you, a teasing grin playing on his lips. “Or maybe you’re more excited to see Heeseung?”

You felt a blush creep up your neck. “He wrote about the fencing team, so I’m definitely curious,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant.

The auditorium was bustling with activity when you arrived. Tables were set up with copies of the magazine and other projects the club had worked on throughout the year. The walls were lined with posters, photographs, and pieces of art that highlighted the creativity of the journalism students. The room buzzed with excitement and pride as people mingled, admiring each other’s work.

As you and your friends entered, you immediately spotted Heeseung standing near one of the display tables, talking with a group of students. He was dressed casually, but there was an air of quiet confidence about him that made him stand out. You watched as he laughed at something one of the students said, the sound warm and genuine. He hadn’t noticed you yet, so you took a moment to observe him from a distance.

“He’s right there,” Jay said, leaning in close. “Go say hi.”

You gave him a playful shove. “I will, just give me a minute.”

Jake grinned. “Come on, let’s go check out the magazine. I want to see how we look in print.”

The three of you made your way over to the display table where the final magazine was laid out. There were stacks of the publication, each one carefully bound and designed. The cover featured a striking image of the campus, with the title in bold letters: “Echoes of the Semester”

You flipped through the pages, searching for Heeseung’s article. When you found it, you couldn’t help but smile. There, on the glossy pages, was the story of your team—the triumphs, the challenges, and everything in between. He had captured the essence of the fencing club with a level of detail and insight that made you feel seen in a way you hadn’t expected.

The presentation started a few moments later, and you found yourself a seat close to the stage. The event had a relaxed, celebratory atmosphere, and you watched with interest as a few students gave brief speeches about their experiences in the club over the past year. The highlight was, of course, the unveiling of the magazine, and you were excited to see how the fencing club had been portrayed.

Heeseung was called to the stage to introduce his article. As he spoke, you couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride for him. He was articulate, confident, and passionate about the story he had written. He spoke about the hard work and dedication of the fencing team, about the perseverance required to compete at such a high level, and about how he had been inspired by their journey.

When he mentioned your name, a flush of warmth spread through you. Heeseung glanced your way, his gaze lingering for just a moment longer than necessary before he continued his speech. The room seemed to hold its breath, captivated by his words, and you found yourself unable to look away.

After the presentation ended, the crowd dispersed to explore the displays, and you were left with a strange mix of emotions—pride, excitement, and something else you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Jay and Jake had wandered off to talk to some friends of theirs, leaving you standing near the stage, still holding a copy of the magazine.

You were about to head over to one of the displays when you felt a presence beside you. Turning, you found Heeseung standing there, his usual easygoing demeanor replaced by something more serious.

“You were great up there,” you said, smiling up at him. “The article is amazing.”

Heeseung returned the smile, but there was a hint of something else in his eyes—something that made your heart skip a beat. “Thanks. I’m glad you liked it. But, actually… there’s something I want to show you.”

Curiosity piqued, you followed him as he led you away from the bustling crowd, down a quiet hallway that led to a small, dimly lit room at the back of the auditorium. Heeseung closed the door behind you, and you suddenly felt very aware of how close the two of you were standing.

“What’s going on?” you asked, your voice tinged with nervousness.

Heeseung didn’t answer right away. Instead, he reached into his bag and pulled out a small, slightly worn notebook. He handed it to you, his fingers brushing against yours as he did. “This… didn’t make it into the magazine,” he said, his voice quiet, almost hesitant.

You opened the notebook, flipping through the pages. It was filled with handwritten notes, sketches, and rough drafts. As you skimmed through it, you realized that the entire notebook was about you—your fencing, your struggles, your thoughts and emotions. It was far more personal and detailed than the article that had been published.

Your breath caught in your throat as you read through the passages. Heeseung had written about moments you hadn’t even realized he had noticed—your determination during practice, the way you pushed through pain, the quiet strength you exuded even when you were at your lowest. He had captured the essence of who you were in a way that was both intimate and raw.

“Why didn’t you include this?” you asked, looking up at him, your voice barely above a whisper.

Heeseung met your gaze, and for a moment, the air between you crackled with tension. “It felt… too personal,” he admitted, his voice soft. “I didn’t want to overstep, but I wanted you to know that I see you—really see you.”

Your hands trembled slightly as you held the notebook, the weight of his words sinking in. There was something deeply vulnerable about this moment, something that made you feel both exposed and understood in a way you hadn’t expected.

“I don’t know what to say,” you murmured, your voice thick with emotion.

Heeseung took a step closer, his gaze never leaving yours. “You don’t have to say anything,” he said softly.

The room seemed to shrink around you, the world narrowing down to just the two of you. Your fingers still rested on the notebook, but you were no longer aware of the paper beneath your hands. All you could focus on was Heeseung—the warmth of his body, the intensity in his eyes, the way his breath brushed against your skin.

Your breath hitched, and your heart pounded in your chest as the tension between you grew, thick and palpable. His eyes flicked to your lips, and you could feel the magnetic pull drawing you closer.

Before you could say anything else, Heeseung reached out and took your hand, gently tugging you closer to him. His fingers brushed over the magazine still clutched in your hands, the touch sending a shiver down your spine.

“I know this might be a little forward,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper, “but… there’s an after-party at my apartment tonight. I’d really like it if you came.”

The words hung in the air between you, and you felt a flutter of excitement mixed with the nervous energy that always seemed to accompany your interactions with him. It wasn’t just an invitation—it was a promise of more time together, of peeling back more layers and discovering what lay beneath the surface of your growing connection.

You smiled softly, the corners of your lips curling up as you looked into his eyes. “I’d love to,” you said, your voice steady despite the butterflies in your stomach.

The tension lingered as you stood there, neither of you moving, neither of you wanting to break the moment. And then, almost as if by instinct, Heeseung leaned in. His lips met yours in a kiss that was both gentle and intense, the kind of kiss that made your heart race and your knees weak.

The notebook slipped from your hands, forgotten as you reached up to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Heeseung’s hands found your waist, and he held you as if you were something precious, something he didn’t want to let go of.

The kiss deepened, and you lost yourself in the sensation, in the way he made you feel—alive, desired, and seen. There was a quiet urgency in the way his lips moved against yours, as if he had been waiting for this moment just as much as you had.

When you finally pulled away, your breath came in ragged gasps, your heart racing in your chest. Heeseung’s eyes were dark, filled with a mixture of emotions that mirrored your own. Neither of you spoke, the silence heavy with the weight of what had just happened.

Heeseung suddenly backed away from you so abruptly that it took you a moment to register what had happened. One second, you were lost in the heat of the moment, and the next, he was stepping back, a mumbled apology slipping from his lips.

"Uh, the after-party..." Heeseung began, his voice barely above a whisper as he avoided your eyes. "I should, um, get ready for it. I’ll see you there?"

Before you could respond, he was already retreating, leaving you standing alone in the small, dimly lit room. The warmth of his touch still lingered on your skin, but the sudden coldness of the distance between you was unmistakable.

You stared at the spot where he had been, trying to process what had just happened. The kiss had been everything you'd imagined—intense, passionate, full of unspoken emotions—but now, it felt like it had been ripped away just as quickly as it had begun. Heeseung was always just out of reach, pulling you in close only to push you away the next moment.

With a frustrated sigh, you picked up the notebook from where it had fallen and clutched it tightly to your chest. You were upset, hurt, feeling like no matter how many moments the two of you shared, they always seemed to slip through your fingers, leaving you with nothing but the fleeting memory of something more.

The walk back to the main room was a blur. You found Jay and Jake talking with a few other students near the exit, their laughter and easy conversation a stark contrast to the storm of emotions brewing inside you.

"Ready to grab some dinner?" Jay asked, catching sight of you as you approached. His usual grin faltered when he saw the look on your face. "You okay?"

You forced a smile, not wanting to worry them. "Yeah, just... a lot on my mind."

Jake, ever the perceptive one, raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further. "Come on, let’s go. Food will help."

The three of you left the auditorium, making your way to a nearby diner that was a favorite among students. The place was busy, filled with the chatter of people winding down after a long day. You slid into a booth, trying to focus on the menu in front of you, but your mind was elsewhere.

Throughout dinner, you found yourself distracted, your thoughts circling back to Heeseung. You barely heard the conversation happening around you, only nodding and offering the occasional comment when prompted. Jay and Jake didn’t seem to notice—or maybe they did, but they chose not to say anything.

You picked at your food, appetite long gone as your thoughts kept returning to the same question: Why was he keeping you at arm’s length? Every time you thought you were getting closer, he would pull away, leaving you more confused and frustrated than before.

By the time you arrived at the after-party, your nerves were frayed, and you felt like you were walking into the lion’s den. Heeseung was there, as expected, greeting everyone as they arrived, his easy smile and calm demeanor masking whatever he was truly feeling.

But when it came to you, he seemed to go out of his way to avoid any meaningful interaction. He was always just a few steps ahead, just out of reach, slipping through the crowd before you could approach him. It was as if that kiss—and everything that had led up to it—hadn’t happened at all.

Jay and Jake didn’t notice your growing frustration as they mingled with the other guests, Sunghoon, Taehyun, and Chaehyun playing some overly complicated drinking game off to the side, but you were a ball of anxiety, barely able to keep up with the small talk and casual conversation. The party was lively, filled with laughter and music, but you felt like you were trapped in a bubble, unable to enjoy any of it.

The hours dragged on, and your patience wore thin. As the party began to wind down and people started to leave, you found yourself more determined than ever to get answers. You couldn’t keep going on like this, caught in this endless push-and-pull with Heeseung. You needed to know where you stood with him—or if you even stood anywhere at all.

Finally, when the crowd had thinned out and most of the guests had left, you spotted Heeseung in the kitchen, cleaning up empty cups and discarded plates. His back was to you, and for a moment, you hesitated. But then, the frustration that had been building all night boiled over, and you found yourself marching over to him, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Heeseung,” you called out, your voice firmer than you expected.

He turned around, surprised to see you standing there. “Oh, hey. I didn’t realize—”

“Why have you been avoiding me all night?” The question came out more accusatory than you intended, but you were too upset to care.

Heeseung blinked, clearly taken aback by your directness. “I wasn’t—”

“Yes, you were,” you interrupted, crossing your arms. “You’ve been avoiding me ever since we kissed. And it’s not just tonight, Heeseung. It’s every time we get close, every time something happens between us, you pull away.”

You barely noticed the last remaining people, Jay and Taehyun, nervously exchanging glances before quickly exiting Heeseung’s apartment.

Heeseung opened his mouth to respond, but you weren’t done. The words came spilling out, a torrent of emotions you’d been holding back for too long.

“I don’t understand what’s going on between us,” you continued, your voice trembling with frustration. “We have all these moments together, these perfect, real moments, and then you just… you just disappear. I feel like I’m always waiting for the other shoe to drop, for you to pull away again, and I can’t keep doing this. I-I feel like I’m going crazy. I mean, what is this? Is this how you are with your friends? I mean you and Jake seem close but-”

“Don’t finish that,” he interrupted with a quiet laugh before looking down, his expression unreadable. You could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands clenched at his sides, but he still didn’t say anything. The silence stretched on, and your heart sank, the fear that you had pushed him too far creeping in.

But then, finally, he looked up at you, and you saw something shift in his eyes—a determination you hadn’t seen before.

“You’re right,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I have been pulling away. And I’m sorry. I’ve been scared… of what this means, of how I feel. But you deserve more than that.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but he stepped closer, cutting you off as he continued. “You deserve someone who isn’t afraid to show you how much you mean to them, someone who isn’t constantly holding back.”

“Heeseung…” you started, but he shook his head.

“No, let me finish,” he said, his voice trembling slightly. “I just, I know how busy you are and I don’t know I thought I was doing this whole selfless act by trying to keep distance, but I… find that hard around you.”

Heeseung took a deep breath, and then, in a voice filled with a mix of fear and determination, he finally confessed, “I like you. More than I’ve liked anyone in a long time. And it terrifies me because I don’t want to mess this up. But I can’t help it, Y/N, I want to be with you.”

The confession hung in the air between you, and for a moment, you were too stunned to speak. All the frustration, the confusion, the uncertainty that had been weighing on you for weeks melted away, leaving behind only the raw, undeniable truth of what you both felt.

Heeseung reached out, gently taking your hand in his. “I’m sorry for making you feel like you were always going to be kept at a distance,” he said softly. “That’s the last thing I want. I want to be close to you, in every way.”

Your heart swelled with emotion, and you squeezed his hand, feeling a warmth spread through you that you hadn’t felt in a long time. “I want that too,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

The tension that had been simmering between you all night reached its breaking point, and before you knew it, you were pulling him closer, closing the distance between you. Heeseung didn’t hesitate this time—his lips found yours in a kiss that was fierce, passionate, and full of all the things that had been left unsaid for too long.

It was a kiss that spoke of longing, of desire, of a connection that had been building for months. Your hands clutched at his shirt, pulling him closer, as if afraid that if you let go, he might slip away again. But Heeseung was there, solid and real, his arms wrapping around you in a way that made you feel safe, wanted.

He bent down, hands roaming through your hair and then down your arms to snake around your waist and pull you onto the counter top in front of him. Your boot knocked clumsily into his knee, but he seemed to pay no attention to it. Grabbing the collar of his shirt, you pulled him closer and heat blazed through your core at the sound of a small giggle that escaped him.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and flushed, you could see the same mix of emotions reflected in his eyes—relief, happiness, and something deeper, something that promised this was just the beginning of something more.

“Stay with me tonight,” Heeseung murmured, his forehead resting against yours.

You nodded, your heart racing as you ran your fingers and palms against his firm forearms, desiring to touch every inch of him you hadn’t been able to until now.

And as you spent the night together, wrapped in each other’s arms, you knew that this was the start of something real, something that you have only been dreaming about for months. The doubts and fears that had plagued you for so long seemed distant now, replaced by a certainty and feeling for the first time that you were exactly where you were meant to be.

thank you for reading!! <3

[nextchae]

Got7 in a Nutshell

YugBam: *breathes*

OT5:

[nextchae]

ateez reaction — having a supermodel girlfriend

Being a supermodel had its benefits but also its drawbacks, as did your boyfriend’s idol career. For the most part, you being a supermodel didn’t affect him at all really. Secretly, or not so secretly sometimes, he was definitely in awe of you and your shoots and such. As for both of your daily lives, though, not much was affected. Except for busy schedules and those few occasions.

seonghwa

Raising an eyebrow at the new look on your boyfriend’s face, you turned to see what he was looking at. One of your most recent photo shoots advertising a makeup brand stood on a large display right in the middle of the store, and coincidentally right behind you. Somehow, you hadn’t noticed it on the way in.

Seonghwa smiled, immediately beckoning you to pose for a picture beside it.

“Why? There’s a whole picture of me right here” you laughed, but complied to his request.

“There could never be enough pictures of you”.

hongjoong

Hongjoong didn’t hear you sneaking up behind him, because if he did he definitely would have hid the magazine of you that was in his hands. Feeling your chin on his shoulder, he nearly jumped a foot in the air.

“I was just, reading” he lied through his teeth, flipping to a random page about some other celebrity rather than yourself.

You couldn’t help but laugh as you slid onto the couch beside him, taking the magazine from his hands and tossing it on the floor.

“You know that you don’t have to read those” you said, but you had to admit that it was sweet of your boyfriend to care about everything you promoted.

yunho

You were in the middle of a shoot when Yunho caught your eye from behind the camera. He hadn’t told you he was coming and usually didn’t have the time to show up to shoots either, so you were quite surprised. Not wanting to waste any time though, you quickly finished up the last shots they were needing before thanking the crew and excitedly hurrying to your boyfriend.

“I had a little extra time today, and you know I’ve been wanting to come see you at work” he explained himself, all smiley and blushy at the sight of you in a body hugging dress and more makeup than usual.

Though you were happy he had came, it was just his presence that made you feel that way. So, you hurried to change and wrap things up so the two of you could leave.

yeosang

Yeosang liked to play it off that he was cool and not at all fazed by seeing your photo shoots or even just hearing about them, but that was all a complete lie. He was so in awe of your job and every once in a while you would catch glimpses of that.

“Y/n” Yeosang started, grabbing your attention by his voice as he suddenly stopped walking by your side.

You stopped as well, noticing that he was looking at a display of some products you had modeled for a few weeks prior. His gaze, however, was focused on the large picture of you posed, instead of the actual product itself.

“Alright, you’ve convinced me. I’m buying all of these”.

san

San would definitely have those moments of him freaking out over your advertisements and showing you off, but generally he liked to act calm and unbothered around you. Which is exactly why you didn’t expect his reaction to your new commercial.

“Y/n!” He exclaimed, eyes huge and mouth agape as he watched you advertise a product on the TV screen.

You jumped in surprise and watched as he sat there speechless for a moment before turning back to you as the commercial ended.

“How are you so good?! That product is going to sell out!”

mingi

“You know she looks really familiar- wait, Y/n? It’s you!” Mingi exclaimed, pointing to a large screen advertisement outside of the shopping complex you two were now in front of.

Seeing as how people had looked over at you two because of your boyfriend’s reaction, you grabbed his arm and pulled him inside. “Could you be any louder?” You asked.

“Yes” he replied without hesitation before asking you question after question about that picture.

wooyoung

“And then he told her- Wooyoung, you there?” You paused your story as you noticed your boyfriend deeply invested into his phone rather than your own conversation.

“Huh? Oh yeah, sorry” his head shot up to face you from across the table as he then placed his phone face down beside him.

Giving him a look of curiosity and confusion, he picked up his phone again to explain what he was looking at.

“Your new pictures are really popular so I was just looking to make sure there were positive responses” he admitted sheepishly, the tops of his cheeks reddening.

jongho

Passing by some of your most recent advertisements, Jongho sighed as he looked at the photos of yourself. “You know how frustrating it is to pass by these and hear people talking about how gorgeous you are? Of course they’re not wrong, but I don’t want to share” he suddenly confessed, the slightest tone of pout in his voice.

Admittedly shocked, you stood there for a moment before laughing at his sudden outburst. “How cute. You know you’re the one dating me, right? These are just pictures”

He smiled as you intertwined your fingers in reassurance. That was all he needed.

[nextchae]

stray kids usa tour is over and somehow my pcd is even worse now than it was after my actual concert a few weeks ago 🤧

[nextchae]

day6 reaction — having a curvier significant other

You and your boyfriend’s relationship was built on trust and love. In fact your boyfriend loved nearly everything about you, and especially your body.

jae

Not to be too cliché, but Jae loved you for your personality and not just for your looks. Those were definitely a plus though.

Even after dating for a while and seeing each other without clothes, Jae would freak every time he walked in on you in anything less than shorts and a tee shirt.

“Oh, my go- Sorry!” He squeaked out, covering his eyes and refusing to move.

“I’m just in my underwear” you laughed looking at the already blushing male. “And, you know, you’re my boyfriend”.

He cleared his throat, removing his hands to finally get a good look at you. Your usual overly confident boyfriend was suddenly nowhere to be found.

“You look... good”.

sungjin

“Where are you going?” Sungjin asked, his tone unintentionally brash yet needy.

“The gym” You answered, though it sounded more like a question too.

“In that?” He continued, now standing from the couch to view your body at a different angle. You watched the way his dark eyes lingered over your exposed bust and down to your hips.

Looking down at your leggings and sports bra, a small smirk came too your lips.

“Jealous?” You asked. One simple word that set him off.

“Me?” He laughed dangerously, quickly shortening the distance between you two. “Why would I be jealous of something that’s all mine?”.

young k

“Wow” your boyfriend whispered from the doorframe, but it was just loud enough to be audible to your own ears.

Whipping around to face him, a wide smile was already spread out on his lips.

“Hmm?” You hummed, curious of his actions.

“You are stunning” he answered shamelessly while running his hands along the fabric of your new dress that perfectly hugged your curves.

Rolling your eyes, but being unable to stop the blush from rising to the surface of your cheeks, you turned and attempted to ignore him.

“Oh, don’t mind me! I’ll just watch you finish getting ready” he spoke, completely unbothered, before hopping onto the bathroom counter.

wonpil

You couldn’t help but notice the way your boyfriend’s eyes were fixed on you as you two sat together on the couch. Because one: he wasn’t paying attention to the movie in the least bit, and two: his breathing would hitch every time you moved. More specifically though, his eyes were fixed on your neck down.

“Wonpil” you whined, playfully hitting at his chest. “I’m literally wearing an oversized hoodie and sweatpants”.

His eyes widened at your confrontation with him and he couldn’t do anything but smile. “I think you always look great, no matter what you’re wearing”

You laughed, though simultaneously cringing at his words.

dowoon

You thought it was sweet the way Dowoon would immediately just stop, stare, and smile at you every time he got a first glance at yourself. He wouldn’t ever say much about your body, but you could tell he noticed your curves.

His hands running along your sides as you laid in bed, Dowoon had believed you were asleep. To his horror, though, you slightly flinched at the touch and turned to face him.

“I was just-”

“I love you” you interrupted, his eyes widening even more in surprise.

“I love you too” he finally responded after a few seconds and soon his arms found themselves around your waist once again.

[nextchae]

ateez reaction — their significant other feeling insecure

Your boyfriend knew you like the back of his hand and so he could sense when you weren’t feeling well. Recently, you had been feeling insecure and he quickly picked up on that as usual. This, however, meant him doing everything in his power to help you start feeling better again.

seonghwa

The way you would frown and shudder every time you saw your reflection broke his heart. He couldn’t make you love yourself, but he could show you just how much he did. The final straw for him, though, was when you would talk badly about yourself. That he just simply could not tolerate.

“Shh, don’t think like that’s. Why don’t we go watch a drama?” He suggested, in attempts to distract you from your own thoughts.

For as long as it would take, Seonghwa would hold and praise you until you finally started to see some of what he did.

hongjoong

Hongjoong knew what it was like to dislike yourself and feel insecure and he knew that just telling you not to wouldn’t help. He was there for you and wanted you to feel comfortable so whether you wanted to rant or cry to him, he would support you. Even if he didn’t believe a word you said.

“I’ll make this short. I tried to cook dinner for you, but that didn’t work so I ordered takeout” your boyfriend explained the mess in your kitchen and the boxes of food on the table.

It was completely worth it to him because of the laughter that finally escaped from your lips.

yunho

Yunho would of course listen to whatever you wanted to say, but his idea of cheering you up was to make you laugh. Even if it didn’t completely fix everything, it would at least distract you for a little bit. Most of the time he would just end up making himself look like an idiot though.

“You know you’re my most favorite person ever?” He suddenly announced, eyes focused on your own.

You couldn’t help but smile at his sudden seriousness and sweet words. He knew he couldn’t always fix everything, but he could and would always try.

yeosang

The longer you two dated, the more comfortable Yeosang got and therefore the less awkward he became. The only situation he froze up in anymore was when you were upset. He really wanted to help, but he was afraid he’d just mess up and somehow make things worse. So, whenever you were upset he’d try to bring something else up.

“Hey” he spoke softly as he entered your dim room, your favorite candies and a new plushie in hand. “These are yours” he admitted sheepishly before sitting them on your bedside.

Showering you in gifts and attempted affection was his other solution.

san

“You can talk about it if you want to, but don’t feel like you have to either. Whatever you need, I’m right here” San spoke seriously, making complete eye contact with you as he spoke.

You would completely crumble under his sweet and caring nature and gush to him everything that had been bothering you. The whole time you spoke San attentively listened, his free hand occasionally rubbing your back in soft circles. He was your rock, but it’d be a lie to say you weren’t his as well.

mingi

Mingi was known to joke around a lot and so it was a complete surprise for you to see him act softly around you when you were feeling upset. To him, though, you were way too important to joke with at times like such.

He would listen to every word you’d say, reacting in small ways like slightly opening his mouth to form an “o” or nodding. When you were finished he’d refuse to leave your side for the rest of the day.

“I need to shower, Mingi. I’ll be okay by myself for a few minutes” you attempted to convince him.

“Actually, I need to shower too anyways”.

wooyoung

Seeing you hurting was probably the worst thing for Wooyoung. If you were crying though, it was infinitely worse. Usually if that were the case he’d end up crying with you and then you’d be the one comforting him.

“Don’t cry too!” You exclaimed, using your thumbs to wipe away his tears.

“No you’re the one that I need to be saying that too!” He sniffled and buried his face in your chest.

Regardless of how you felt, it was always nice to see just how much he cared for you.

jongho

He knew something was off the moment he entered your home. Usually, you’d be quick to happily greet him at the door, but now instead he was the one to find you curled up on your bed in a mountain of blankets.

“Hey! What’s wrong?” He’d immediately drop his things and sneak into the blankets along with you, immediately noticing your swollen eyes.

Even if you didn’t want to talk much that would be okay with Jongho. As long as you wanted him around, he’d do anything to cheer you up.

[nextchae]

[970218 ✧ 980218]

↳ happy birthday to svt’s dokyeom and vernon! 💘

[nextchae]

ateez reaction — another member being your ult bias

Your boyfriend proudly sat back in amusement as he watched your excitement at the reaction of Ateez’s newest music video. It didn’t take him long, however, to see that you were paying attention to one member in particular. That one member not being himself.

seonghwa

“I think you lost where I was. Right there” Seonghwa said, pointing his finger to the spot on the screen where he stood.

“Oh, no. I was looking at Wooyoung” you admitted.

“Who? Wooyoung?!” He exclaimed, nearly chucking the phone through a window.

“Just because you’re my boyfriend doesn’t mean you’re my bias too” you said casually shrugging, to which Seonghwa dramatically gasped.

“Am I at least your bias wrecker?”

hongjoong

“Why do you keep rewinding to San’s part?” Your boyfriend asked curiously.

“Because he’s my bias”

Those words caught Hongjoong off guard. His head snapping to look at you, his mouth was open to even more visibly show his shocked state.

“I feel so, betrayed” he joked (or maybe not), and fell backwards on the couch. Pretending to weakly reach out for you, he shook his head at the sight of his younger member on your screen. “You never expect it from the ones you love the most”.

yunho

“My bias is really so talented” you said to which Yunho proudly beamed.

“Ahh, I’m sitting right here...” he laughed, a cheeky grin across his face.

“You? No, my bias is Seonghwa”

He laughed at first, thinking you were joking, and responding with a “yeah, sure”. When you insisted, however, that Seonghwa was really your bias, you watched your boyfriend’s face completely change.

“We’ll just watch one of my fancams then” Yunho pouted, immediately taking the phone from your hands.

yeosang

He was so busy cringing at the fact that you were watching their music video that he didn’t even notice you paying attention to another member.

“Turn it off I’m going to die Y/n”

“Wait, I need to see Jongho’s part one more time”

His eyes immediately locking on yours, he gave you an even worse look when you admitted Jongho was your bias.

“I’m kind of disappointed. Jongho, really? Mine would be Wooyoung”.

san

“Hey! Why are you only watching Yunho’s parts” San laughed, assuming you had just gotten them mixed up or something.

“You know he’s my bias right?” You quickly answered.

Your boyfriend stared at you in disbelief, the only sign that he was still present being his blinking eyelids.

“Bias? Yeah, right” he pouted, knocking the screen from your hands as he tackled you against the bed.

mingi

You thought your boyfriend was really going to go fight Yeosang when you confessed that he was your bias. Jumping up from the bed, Mingi furrowed his eyebrows at you.

“Yah! Look at this!” He exclaimed, dancing as if his life depended on it.

You nearly lost it when he ended up slipping due to dancing on hardwood with only his socks on.

“I bet you’ve already changed your mind”.

wooyoung

“Your bias is Hong-Hongjoong?” Wooyoung repeated, shuttering at your statement.

“Mhm” you nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips at his reaction. “You’re not jealous, are you?”

“Jealous?” He laughed, a certain look in his eyes suddenly appearing. In one swift motion he pinned you against the bed frame, locking you motionless with his your legs between his own and his arms above your head. “He couldn’t do this, could he?”.

jongho

He hasn’t let up one bit since you informed him that your bias was not himself, but Mingi instead. All day he’d randomly start singing or dancing to show off or even joking about his older member.

“Stop pouting” you finally told him.

“I have a right to pout! You’re dating me!” He exclaimed, of course still pouting.

“Exactly. I’m dating you” you said and sweetly kissed the boy on his cheek. Immediately a small smile returned to his lips instead.

[nextchae]

what even thank you guys so much for 400 🤧🥺

my request box is open at the moment and as always feel free to send me a message if you’d just like to talk! 💓

[nextchae]

ateez reaction — having a curvier significant other

Your boyfriend loved you for you, but he’d be lying if he said your body wasn’t something he cherished.

seonghwa

Observing you change your clothes from his spot in the bed, a whine passed through Seonghwa’s lips. Taking notice of this, you teased him by taking ages to slip on a shirt.

“You think you’re funny, Y/n?” Seonghwa asked, his hands immediately finding your hips as he stood from the bed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” you played innocent.

“Mhm” he mumbled, eyes lingering on your half naked figure for much longer than they should have.

hongjoong

A noticeable amount of blush formed at the surface of Hongjoong’s cheeks at the sight of your cleavage in a low cut tank top.

“You act like you’ve haven’t seen it before” you laughed, snapping your boyfriend out of his trance.

A sheepish smile playing out on his lips, he firmly intertwined your fingers.

“You’re staying very close beside me today” he told you strictly, but it was hard to take the still blushing male seriously.

yunho

Watching your boyfriend fake pass out at the sight of you in your new bathing suit, you rolled your eyes and faintly hit at his chest.

“I’ll go swimming everyday if this is what I get to see” he joked (but honestly it was the truth) pulling you down on the bed beside him.

His hands carefully roamed your sides, running up and down your hourglass figure. It wasn’t long before the look in his eyes darkened.

“You’re just so beautiful”.

yeosang

It didn’t matter how long you two had been dating or how many times Yeosang had seen your body in minimal clothing (or honestly at all), he was always a shy mess when it came to that. Particularly because, well, that was just Yeosang, but also because he adored your body.

“So, what do you want, um, to- to watch?” He stuttered and stumbled all over his words, his eyes darting back and forth from your body beside him and the living room television.

You laughed, throwing your head back and finding a comfortable spot against his chest. “It’s okay to look at me Yeosang. You know, I am your girlfriend”.

san

The sound of your boyfriend spitting out his drink was audible behind you as you reached up into the cabinets. The reason being? Your oversized tee shirt had rode up enough to show your boyfriend a nice glimpse of your only-panties-covered butt.

“Y/n, you’re driving me crazy! Walking around the house with no pants and then showing off like that?!” San exclaimed, his eyes wide and face red.

You couldn’t help but laugh, moving towards him to pinch his red cheeks. It was no secret that your boyfriend liked your body, so why not show some skin?

mingi

Mingi loved everything about you, but especially your thighs. Anytime he was seated next to you was an excuse for his hand to be permanently glued to your thicker thighs.

“Ah, wow” your boyfriend cheered, clapping loudly, as you stepped out of your bedroom, now dressed in a pair of rather short shorts. “Good choice” he continued proudly as you attempted to drag him away from his spot of staring at your body.

wooyoung

You found that Wooyoung often didn’t talk when he watched you doing things like changing clothes and such. His eyes would be attentively locked on your body as he unintentionally stared.

“Hey, you there?” You asked, waving a hand in front of the male’s face as he stood in the doorway of your bedroom.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. You, um, ready?” He suddenly asked, attempting to play it off. However, the look in his eyes and his slightly hitched breathing said otherwise.

jongho

As you entered the living room clad in a fitting tank top and leggings from your gym workout, you could feel your boyfriend’s eyes on you.

“You look good” he stated simply and bluntly, ever vocal about his thoughts and feelings.

“Thanks” you mumbled, unable to keep your own cheeks from burning. This, of course, resulting in a proud smirk from Jongho.

“You should really start working out here”.

[nextchae]

day6 reaction — confessing to their crush

Swirling around the contents of your glass with a straw, you looked across the table at the male in front of you. This was the third time you’ve went out with him, just the two of you, but things were just as unclear as the first. Was it a date? He never specified. It was always the “let’s go grab some lunch/dinner” suggestion. So you didn’t know if the feelings you had started to develop were mutual.

The tension that hung thickly in the air, though, was something new this time. You couldn’t help but notice the way he repeatedly twisted the ring on his finger or how every time you’d catch him sneaking a glance at you he’d quickly look away. Something was up and you were finally going to get to the bottom of it.

jae

It was noticeable that he wasn’t his usual self. Not once did he joke around with the server or make fun of you for your food selections. Most importantly, though, his general radiance of confidence, or rather contentment, was completely wiped clean and replaced with unfamiliar timidness and insecurity.

It wasn’t until the two of you were finished at the restaurant and walking outside did he finally speak up.

“There’s something that I’ve been wanting to get off my chest” Jae said, taking a deep breath as he abruptly ceased walking. “I, see you as more than a friend. I don’t know if I’m moving too quickly or too slowly, but you need to know that I- have feelings for you”

sungjin

Initially, Sungjin wanted to be straightforward about his feelings, but the second he saw you that all just crumbled. Line after line that he had rehearsed mentally, even wrote down at one point, was nowhere to be found in his panicking head. So, him attempting to come up with some backup confession seemed like uninterest and boredom to you.

“Are you okay?” You asked, slightly shifting to be in focus of the male’s eyes.

“Huh?” He asked, jumping slightly at your voice. “Oh yeah, sorry” he mumbled, voice trailing off.

Seeing the confused look on your face, he bit at his lip before heavily sighing. “Okay, there is something on my mind that you deserve to know. I like you and I don’t know if you feel the same, but I can’t keep this bottled up anymore”.

young k

Rather than being quiet and closed off, he was the opposite. He would jump from subject to subject as if he was wanting to focus on something else. You didn’t want to pry, but you were curious to if you had done anything.

“My cat? Yeah, she’s fine. This is probably the third time you’ve asked though” you laughed.

“Oh really? I’m sorry”

Shaking your head to tell him it was okay, he frowned and sat down his fork.

“I was gonna wait until later, but I don’t think that really matters” he started, looking you in the eyes. “I don’t think I’m okay being just friends you, because I want more. I like you Y/n”.

wonpil

Had it not been for the occasional glances he’d give you or his other uncomfortable movements, you wouldn’t have noticed a problem. Normally Wonpil wouldn’t talk much when you were eating, so that was somewhat normal, but he would always sneak in a question about your day and such. Today, however, there was none of that.

Walking beside the male as the two of you began towards the parking lot, you watched as he ran a hand through his hair and suddenly stopped. Before you could even get a word past your mouth, he was already explaining.

“You’re really special to me, Y/n. I want these outings to be significant and something that makes you happy because I have feelings for you”.

dowoon

You could feel his eyes on you without even looking to see. It was a different kind of feeling than usual, though. Almost more, intense. Every time you’d look up, however, he’d quickly look back down and brush it off with a cough.

“Is there something on my face?” You suddenly asked, attempting to see your reflection in the silverware.

“You look really pretty” he immediately blurted, face then contorting into a mixture of embarrassment and fear.

It took him a few moments to regain his composure before finally completing his thoughts. Rather straightforward, but it was better than the awkward tension from before.

“I like you. Do you want to, um, try dating?”

[nextchae]

ateez reaction — someone checking out their significant other

The suggestion of a date by your boyfriend had gotten you very excited, even despite the fact that you two had already been dating for quite some time. Spending time with your boyfriend was always something that you looked forward to, regardless of where or when. The fact that his busy schedule often didn’t make time for these, however, was definitely a contributing factor to your eagerness.

It wasn’t that your boyfriend particularly cared about your outfit choices, but you knew he had a favorite and so that was what you decided to wear. Unfortunately, you didn’t know beforehand that he wasn’t going to be the only one enjoying the sight of you in it.

seonghwa

“Aw, look!” You exclaimed, spotting a super cute plushie on a shelf a few feet away from you and Seonghwa. As you reached up to grab it, your shorts must have rode up a bit resulting in a whistle from someone behind you.

At first you assumed it was just Seonghwa, of course, and rolled your eyes as you turned to show him the stuffed squirrel. Much to your surprise, you were instead greeted by the sight of your angry boyfriend and some stranger.

Lucky for this person, because it really looked as if Seonghwa was going to commit murder, they had the opportunity to run away when he was distracted by you.

He mumbled obscenities under his breath as he took off his jacket and firmly tied it around your waist. For the remainder of the date he refused to let go of your hand or stop insulting the unfamiliar person from earlier.

“This outfit is only for me” he mumbled under his breath.

hongjoong

Flicking your boyfriend on the forehead as he stole a bite of your ice cream, you couldn’t help but laugh. The two of you had stopped for some ice cream and just took the time to joke around and have some fun. In the midst of all this, you or Hongjoong hadn’t even noticed the extra pair of eyes on you.

In fact, you didn’t notice at all until your boyfriend stepped out for a few minutes to take a phone call. Looking around the small ice cream parlor, you uncomfortably offered the stranger a small smile in hopes of them paying attention to something else.

When Hongjoong finally returned, you immediately stood and pulled him in the direction of the exit. You waited until you and him were a little ways away before telling him. Which was probably for the best as you still had to stop him from running back and confronting the person.

“I get that you’re extremely nice to look at and all, but really? The nerve of some people”

yunho

It was nice out, and so the outdoor mall seemed like a good idea. You and Yunho were having the time of your lives just doing simple things like looking around shops and joking with each other. Before you two even noticed, the sun had began to fall as nighttime approached.

“Can I have just one picture? Please?” Your boyfriend pleaded to you with as a small pout formed on his lips. He loved taking pictures of you, literally everywhere, and said that he just had to have one of you at golden hour in front of the center pond.

As you finally agreed and posed for his camera, you easily noticed the stranger who was staring at you from a couple feet behind Yunho. Following your confused gaze, Yunho’s eyes widened as he gave the person a look.

“We’ll go somewhere else” he muttered, taking your hand and quickly getting you out of that person’s sight.

yeosang

“what do you think?” You asked your boyfriend as you stepped out of the dressing room, now in new clothes.

“Looks, nice” he answered quietly, a small sheen of blush rising to the surface of his cheeks.

“You picked it out!” You exclaimed with a laugh, amazed at Yeosang’s slight embarrassment. As you continued to tease him lovingly, someone in the corner of your eye caught your attention.

The person stood against the wall a few feet away, their eyes quite obviously looking you up and down. The small involuntary frown on your lips caused Yeosang to turn and look as well, his eyebrows immediately raising in shock.

As Yeosang attempted to awkwardly hide you behind him, the person quickly left.

“We’re buying this, but you can only wear it when I’m around” he said, making you pinky promise him as well.

san

“I can come too!” You told your boyfriend who claimed that you needed to sit and rest while he went to get you two some drinks.

“Let me be nice to you!” He laughed, squishing your cheeks as you frowned up at him. “Just sit here and rest. I’ll be right back”.

Kicking your shoes around as you waited impatiently, your gaze caught that of someone’s on the opposite bench as you. Nodding to them at first, you didn’t think anything of it. Until they continued to stare at you.

“They didn’t have cherry so I got you-” you cut your boyfriend off by immediately standing as he returned with drinks in his hands.

“Thank you” you spoke rushed, attempting to get away as quickly as possible. San thought you were mad at his drink choice, but once you told him about the person it looked as if he was going to explode.

“You should’ve shown me them! I would’ve... let them know that you’re in a happy relationship”

mingi

“Y/n! Watch this!” Your boyfriend proudly exclaimed, attempting to do a handstand on the top of the hill at the park.

You were scared to death that he was going to fall and roll down the entire thing, but you had to admit it was quite amusing. Plus you loved the way his whole face would light up at the sound of your laughter.

“Be careful!” You yelled back, unable to control your giggles.

The whole time you two had been at the park you had only seen an elderly couple and a few children with their parents, so you definitely hadn’t noticed the random person who only stood a ways back from you. Mingi, however, being at a completely different view point, quickly spotted the stranger who was checking you out and even pulled out their phone to take a picture of you.

“Yah!” He exclaimed, jumping to his feet and racing down the hill. He had scared off the person before you even had a good chance to look, but he claimed that was a good thing.

wooyoung

The last place you expected to be checked out was walking down the street while holding hands with your boyfriend, but in that aspect you were definitely surprised.

You and Wooyoung had just been talking and laughing together when you passed by a couple of people, their gazes drawn to and following you. You quickly brushed it off, but Wooyoung definitely did not.

“What are you looking at? My girlfriend? Well-” he began, immediately walking towards them as you quickly grabbed his arm and pulled him away.

“What was that for!?” He exclaimed, his voice still laced with anger.

“Don’t worry about it” you told him, assuring him that you were completely fine. “What are you gonna do, fight them?” You joked, teasing at him.

“Maybe” he shrugged, attempting to keep a cool look on his face. He always said he was more confident when you were around, and sometimes it really showed. Sometimes.

jongho

The end to your date consisted of going to the grocery store with Jongho to pick up a few things. Definitely not a candlelit dinner or anything, but your relationship was probably not quite textbook either. Not that you would change that for anything, though.

As you tried to stop your boyfriend from breaking a pound of apples in half, someone unfamiliar caught your attention. Not for any reason in particular besides the fact that they were intensely staring at you.

Jongho, apple in hand, quickly looked over to the person who was now attempting to play it off like they were looking for some fruits. Rolling his eyes, your boyfriend protectively slung his arm around your waist and pulled you into a different isle.

“If only they’d seen me break the apple, then they would’ve been scared” he said, shaking his head.