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haknom · 6 months

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STARS AND RAINDROPS — PARK JAY

꒰ PLAY’S SCRIPT ꒱ ⪩ Park Jay was well aware of the rivalry between his basketball team and the drama club, yet he couldn’t bring himself to hate them. He loved drama, and of course, he couldn’t express that to anyone. Upon hearing about the auditions for their new play, he only felt thrilled. He was good at hiding secrets, so signing up wouldn’t be that hard, right? Well, it wouldn't be if you, the club leader, weren’t practically everywhere.

꒰ CASTING ꒱ ⪩ bball-team-leader!jay x drama-club-leader-fem!reader (ft. k from &team, sohee and seunghan from riize, eric, younghoon, sangyeon, and juyeon from the boyz, danielle from newjeans, kazuha and eunchae from le sserafim, jisung and mark from nct, ricky from zb1, enha’s jungwon, heeseung, jay, and jake, songyee from woo!ah!)

꒰ GENRES ꒱ ⪩ highschool au, performing arts au, sports au, highschool musical inspired, strangers to lovers, love at first sight, fluff, angst, crack, (kinda) self discovery, and nonidol au.

꒰ WARNINGS ꒱ ⪩ profanity, lotsss of arguing, jay has a nightmare, club/team rivalry, lying, k is like really mean, crying, kissing, y/n gets injured for a bit, mentions of possibly being sick, lmk if i missed anything!

꒰ SOUNDTRACK ꒱ ⪩ CLICK HERE!

꒰ PLAY’S DURATION ꒱ ⪩ 23717 words

꒰ AUTHOR NOTE ꒱ ⪩ first fic of the year!! honestly, this fic has existed for the last three years and went through the most craziest revamps in history... So recently I've been rewatching hsm with my older sister and forgot the plot of the old 'mansae' fic so here comes the new and improved mansae fic yall!!! — ps, thank sona for FIGHTING for this fic 😭 and ty to hana for proofreading!!

PERM TAGLIST — @soov @ox1-lovesick @urszn @hanniluvi @dakkisz @dimplewonie @xiaoderrrr @ja4hyvn @mmaplepastries @essmarye @w3bqrl @jennaissantes @yenqa @yeokii @yyunari @wvnkoi @isoobie @strwberrydinosaur @gibbysupremeacyisreal @rikizm @teddywonss @simp4jongseong @100203s @yizhoutv @yuviqik @itsactuallylina @i-yeseo @y6qiso @flwoie @shinrjj @rikibun

ACT ONE.

“So, practice is still on tomorrow?” K asked while throwing his blazer over his shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m down.” Eric said with a smile, wrapping his arm around Jay’s shoulder.

“What about you? I’m sure everyone else is okay with it.” Eric asked the exhausted boy beside him, tightening his arm around Jay’s shoulder.

Jay hummed in response, a yawn breaking through midway. They arrived at K’s locker as he unlocked his own, and Jay pressed his back into the locker beside K’s. Today’s practice was enough for him.

He was ready to fall asleep and wake up the next day, discarding all his assigned work. His eyes fell shut at the sounds of K’s locker interior clashing with his personal belongings.

“Excuse me.” someone said, gaining the attention of the three boys. Jay slightly opened one eye, glancing at the sight before him. Nakamura Kazuha, a member of the drama club, looked annoyed more than ever.

Eric scoffed at the sight, alongside him, Jay pushed himself off the locker he was resting on and moved out of her way. She proceeded to tape up a flyer that promoted their club’s newest attraction—a play.

“Wizard of Oz? Really?” K retorted, shutting his locker at the same time.

“What’s it to you?” Kazuha said with a raised brow.

“Nobody’s going to watch that.”

“It’s optional. Either they watch the live action or the play.” Kazuha said, leaving K confused.

“Aren’t those the same thing?” K asked.

“One needs effort, and one doesn’t. For example, you look identical to an Oompa Loompa, so therefore, no costume will be needed.” She insulted him as K’s brows furrowed.

Eric snorted at the sudden insult, immediately clearing his throat once he felt K’s glare. Jay cracked a smile at her words, his gaze shifting to the poster beside him. His attention was drawn away from the conversation and onto the colourful poster before him. It was quite eye-catching.

Everyone in Decelis was aware of the rivalry between the two groups. It wasn’t anything new and stayed every school year, to the point where even newcomers heard about it.

It all started with a misunderstanding. Back in sophomore year, the drama club had just finished designing one of their new set pieces, only for a group of rowdy boys to ruin it right after. A basketball came flying into the center of their backdrop, breaking it immediately.

Of course, your first instinct would be to confront the basketball team. The basketball had a signature on it. One that anyone could recognize immediately; ‘DECELIS BBALL TEAM’ in bolded letters, slightly smudged from the number of sweaty hands that held the ball in many games.

The gym doors busted open, revealing a group of furious students who caught the team’s attention. “That’s where the ball went!” Sohee exclaimed while jogging towards the group of students.

He reached out for the basketball with a smile.

“Thank you—”

“You guys broke our set,” Danielle said, moving the ball out of his reach.

“What?” Sohee questioned, turning to look at his team members and then back at the students in front of him. His team members were just as confused as him. What did they mean by breaking their set?

“Is this your way of sabotaging us? We understand that your game is on the same day as our play, but that wouldn’t differentiate the number of viewers for both events.” Jungwon explained, leaving the group of boys even more confused.

K approached Sohee’s side with furrowed brows. “Why are you guys accusing us of something we didn’t do?” He asked as Eunchae sighed.

“How are we the ones accusing you when your team’s ball is enough to prove our point?” She said, taking the ball from Danielle’s hold.

“It came flying into our set pieces. Everyone in our school knows about the rules with your team’s ball, which is only reserved for tournament and practice services. Nothing else.” She explained. She wasn’t wrong about that. Definitely not. But still, the basketball team did nothing.

“If you guys don’t want to answer truthfully, then that’s fine. Keep whatever reputation you have to uphold, I guess. Stay away from the drama club room, or we will inform the principal.” Juyeon said, glaring into K’s eyes.

K felt furious. He had a history of bad anger management, and his teammates knew. He lurched at the group of students, but Sohee put an arm in front of him, halting his movements. K looked at Sohee as he shook his head.

“Let them be.” He mumbled as the group of students walked away, dropping the ball on the ground and leaving it to dribble as it rolled toward the two boys.

The changing room doors opened, revealing a confused Jay.

“What was all that commotion?” He asked the boys, taking in the scene before him. All the boys turned around to stare at their captain, including K, who was still mad.

He stormed off into the changing room, pushing past Jay, who blocked the entrance slightly.

“What’s up with him?” He asked, pointing behind him with his thumb.

“The drama club accused us of ruining their set pieces and trying to sabotage their play all because of our missing basketball. I don’t even know how it ended up in the halls in the first place.” Sohee explained while walking over to pick up the ball.

“That’s weird…” Jay mumbled, running his fingers through his hair.

“Whatever, let’s continue with the practice.” He changed the topic as everyone went back to what they were doing.

“Jay, what are you doing?” Eric asked as Jay’s attention shifted away from the poster from earlier.

“What? Oh, nothing…” He mumbled, trying to play it off yet failed completely.

Jay looked around, registering that Kazuha had left to put up more posters around their school hallways a while ago and it was only the three of them together.

“Aren’t you coming?” K asked, leaving Jay unsure of what he was referring to.

“Yeah, of course.” He said, hoping it was the right answer.

“Sweet, let’s go!” Eric cheered as the two walked ahead with Jay trailing behind.

Jay didn’t know if he should regret agreeing or be glad that he agreed. He had no clue where they were and was even more confused once he realized they were standing in front of the doors to the drama club room.

“What are we doing here?” Jay asked nervously.

“You weren’t listening were you…” Eric said with a sigh.

“We’re here to get revenge.” He explained as Jay’s eyes widened.

“Don’t worry, it won’t be bad. Just a little warning.” He teased and reached for the doorknob.

“I’m aware of our so-called hatred for their club but isn’t this too much? I mean, what if we get caught? We can’t be benched for our upcoming game. Plus, the season’s almost done. We can’t risk any silly behaviour.” Jay sternly said as he held onto Eric’s arm.

“You’re worrying too much. There’s no way Coach would bench any of us, we have to be the starters no matter what.” He reassured Jay and removed his hand from his arm.

“Follow through with the plan. If we get caught, one of us goes and tries to drive the person out of the room. I’d say, Eric, you’re a good sweet talker.” K said as Eric nodded.

“Alright…” Jay mumbled, still nervous. He didn’t want to bother the club anymore. Plus, what if this ruined his chances of ever joining one of their plays?

Auditions were in less than a week, he couldn’t blow them now.

They checked the halls before opening the door silently. The coast was clear, it was nearing the end of lunch anyway. Usually, nobody’s in the clubrooms during lunchtime. After a few weeks of observing, it was something Jay realized. He wouldn’t get caught signing up at this rate.

They walked into the club room, closing the door behind them. “What should we take? A camera?” K asked while holding one of their cameras in his hands. He examined the other options, including their lens as well.

“I doubt they’d care, it’s a drama club, not a photography club,” Eric said while approaching their other belongings. Jay’s grip tightened on the coat in his hands and gulped. Although he was sure they wouldn’t get caught, he was still nervous about it.

What if it really did happen? Then what?

“A play script sounds better. I heard they’re handwritten too, then proofread to make more copies.” Eric said with a smirk.

“The Wizard of Oz…what a silly name,” Eric said while thumbing the stapled stack of papers he held.

“I doubt they printed any of this. It looks freshly written.” He said and looked at Jay and K.

“Yeah—” K silenced himself at the sound of footsteps.

They quickly looked around the room, trying to find a place to hide. Eric passed K the script as he quietly walked towards the door. K pulled Jay into a nearby room that stored some of their smaller set pieces, shutting it slowly.

“Shh,” K whispered to Jay as his harsh breathing grew quiet. There was a silence between them as they tried listening to what was happening on the other side of the door.

“Hello?” A voice called, catching their attention. Jay’s brows furrowed as he tried to pinpoint whom the voice belonged to.

“Oh, hi.” Eric turned around, smiling at the person.

“Y/N, I was wondering about something, so I decided to wait for one of you to return.” He lied.

“It’s their club leader,” K whispered to Jay as he nodded. Why did their name sound so familiar if that was their club leader whom he never met?

“What is it?” You asked as Eric tried to think of an excuse.

“I know I’m on the basketball team and whatnot, but that doesn’t mean I’m not interested in drama.” He said, trying to stall more time.

“Here, why don’t we walk outside and talk?” Eric suggested. “I’m feeling a little cramped in here due to the amount of items your club has…” He said while looking around the room.

“Okay…” You said as he smiled and led you two out of the clubroom.

Once the door shut, Jay and K let out a heavy sigh. They opened the storage room door and exited.

“It’s like 50°C in there!” K exclaimed while wiping the sweat that dribbled down his face.

“I know,” Jay mumbled in agreement while trying to catch his breath.

“I’m surprised he managed to convince her to leave. I told you he’s a sweet talker.” K said as the two left the clubroom in silence.

They walked away from the doors as if they weren’t just in there as K held the script under his arm.

“Hopefully, we can last a few days.” He said as they approached his locker. He unlocked his locker as Jay examined the empty halls.

“Wait…” Jay mumbled while pulling out his phone immediately.

“K, we’re late.” He said and looked at the boy in front of him.

“Shit,” K muttered, placing the script in his locker hastily.

“Go, I’ll catch up later. Make a believable excuse for Mrs. Jang. I’m sure she’ll believe you out of all her students.”

Jay nodded and hurried to their English class. It’s true that he’s one of Mrs. Jang’s favourite students and was rarely ever late to class. Of course, she’d believe anything he’d say.

ACT TWO.

P.E. has always been one of Jay’s favourite classes. It was almost like a break from his other boring classes. He loved it and also loved being active.

The voices that cheered his name throughout the gym sounded like distant cries. His only focus was the ball that bounced in front of him and those he was opposing. He caught the ball in his hands as he searched around the gymnasium for his teammate.

“Chenle!” Jay called out, alerting the dark-haired boy. He passed the ball to Chenle who stood only a few meters away from him and ran closer to the net.

“He’s quite good,” your classmate whispered to her friend.

“Who? Chenle?” The friend whispered back with raised brows.

“No, silly! I’m talking about Jay." Her chin rested in her palm as she watched Jay with narrowed eyes.

“It’s not like it’s the first time you’re seeing him play… But I agree, no wonder the team made him their captain.”

You looked away from the two classmates, who continued to converse with each other. The floor everyone sat on was pretty uncomfortable. If it were the bleachers, that would be way better.

It was well-known how serious Jay became once he was on the court with an orange ball in his hands. He was way different from his normal calm aura.

Your eyes trailed over Jay’s figure; his eyes were focused on the ball and the court, sweat droplets visible on his body as his blue hair strands stuck to his damped forehead, and he was breathing heavily. Even with how far you were seated, you could still see quite a lot.

But not the ball that headed your way.

“Look out!” The voices of the boys on the court yelled in unison, scattering all your old thoughts and replacing them with new ones. You prepared yourself to be hit since there was no other spot for you to move, but instead, nothing came your way aside from the tall figure that overshadowed yours.

“Watch your surroundings, if I wasn’t able to catch that you would’ve gotten—hurt…” His harsh tone changed into a shocked one as his voice lowered in volume. His eyes were stuck on you, and he wouldn’t move, despite the number of times his teammates called his name.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Your friend from beside you called out.

“I’m fine,” you reassured her as she glared at the boy in front of you two.

“We get it, you guys hate the drama club but that doesn’t mean you have to injure their club leader too.” She said as both you and Jay stayed silent.

“Jay, dude? We need the ball, focus!” Sangyeon shouted from across the gym but Jay didn’t move.

“Thank you.” You muttered.

“Right, no problem.” He responded awkwardly as his hand hit the basketball again.

He ran back to the court, throwing the ball into play. “My fault, whose ball is it?” He questioned while jogging into place.

“It was ours, idiot!” Sohee exclaimed while chasing after the ball.

“Why’d you even throw it here? There’s nobody there!” He said, standing at the other end of the court.

Jay apologized with an embarrassed smile. “Oh, sorry. That was my fault!”

“Jeez, what’s up with him now?” Sohee mumbled as he picked up the basketball, passing it towards their other teammate, Taehyun.

Instead of focusing on the ball and the match in front of him, his thoughts were clouded with you. So, that’s where he’s heard your name, in his P.E. class.

The only thing is, how come he’s never noticed someone as pretty as you?

Waking up on weekdays felt natural to Jay. It meant he would go through his same old everyday routine; wake up, get dressed, eat breakfast with his family, and then go to school.

But today was different.

His alarm rang like usual, he got out of bed, proceeded with his morning routine, and even made himself a quick breakfast. It was something he did every day, but as said before, today was different.

You wouldn’t leave his mind and it was bothering him.

He ran his fingers through his blue strands as he walked down the halls of Decelis. They had an upcoming game, he couldn’t let you distract him. His schedule for today was busier than usual; he had double basketball practice, a test in English, and a test review first period. It was terrible.

He mentally prepared himself for whatever he was about to go through, hoping that’ll all be over soon.

“Hey,” Jay’s friend greeted.

“Hey, Younghoon.” He’d greet back as Younghoon moved beside him.

“Woah, you look exhausted… Did you sleep at all last night?” Younghoon said, worry laced in his voice.

“I’m fine, I just didn’t get enough as usual,” Jay explained, which wasn’t a lie.

He was bothered by the same constant dream—which was more of a nightmare, to him at least—his arms around you as you stared up at him with eyes filled with adoration. If this wasn’t him going crazy then what was?

“I’m sure you’ll be able to sleep for a bit after the test review in Chem today.”

Jay at his words and nodded with a smile. “Hopefully.” He said, a yawn completing his sentence. He’d stretch out his arms as the two walked to Jay’s locker in a comfortable silence.

His eyes glanced at the freshly taped-up poster that advertised the drama club’s new play. That wasn’t there previously.

“Gross, now they’re using our belongings as canvas space?” A familiar voice said while reaching out for the taped-up paper.

Jay looked behind the door of his locker, eyes slightly widening at the sight before him. K was ripping their poster off of Jay’s locker.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Jay began but was interrupted by another voice who finished his sentence for him. The three boys turned their attention toward the girl before them.

“Great,” K muttered. The drama club’s leader was practically everywhere. He couldn’t get away with anything.

You’d approach K, grabbing the now crumpled-up piece of paper in his hand with an unsatisfied look. “Why are you wrecking the properties of others?” You said, earning a scoff from K.

“Why are you ‘claiming’ the properties of others by taping up useless posters?” He retorted with a raised brow as you furrowed yours.

“Fine then.” You’d say as you moved to the nearest trash can, throwing out the balled-up poster.

“If you don’t want us to put things on your lockers, maybe invest in some name tags. Nobody would want to waste their time and remember every irrelevant member of the basketball team’s locker number anyway.” You walked away from the three boys, leaving Jay and Younghoon stunned. Although Jay was supposed to be offended by your words, he was impressed.

K gritted his teeth in annoyance, knowing he couldn’t do anything to you. He looked at Jay with narrowed eyes. “She’s really annoying.” He muttered in pure annoyance as Jay shut his locker.

As much as he wanted to tell K that he was in the wrong, he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Instead, he looked at the time on his watch and then back at the friends beside him. “Period one starts in 5 minutes. We should get going.” He’d suggest as the two boys nodded in agreement. All Jay had to do was get through his first two periods and then he could rest during lunch practice.

That’s all he had to do.

Yet that didn’t explain the thrilled feeling he was currently experiencing in his seat. Chemistry never had him feeling thrilled—and never will.

“I repeat,” the student’s voice on the PA system said, catching Jay’s attention.

“Auditions for Decelis’ drama club’s The Wizard of Oz play will begin in a week! Please, sign up on the signup sheet near the school’s entrance.” She’d continue.

“For more information, please ask the drama club members if needed!” The mic was handed over to someone else, causing quite a commotion over the PA system.

“You heard them, sign up now before it’s too late!” Another student said before beginning their own set of announcements.

“Eunchae has a real warming voice.” One of Jay’s classmates complimented her.

“I agree. I understand why she’s always on the PA system.” Another said.

The rest of their conversation went through one of Jay’s ears and out the other. He was too distracted in trying to think of ways to sign up for their auditions secretly. He’d never done this before and never planned on doing so, but it was their last year of high school. He needed to have the so-called high school experience.

He already had enough things to worry about. He still had time to continue this after his whole day of school. Delaying his plan-making wouldn’t hurt.

But they sure did become more difficult. Jay cautiously approached the signup sheet that was located near the school’s entrance, acting as casually as possible. He had only 10 minutes to figure out something before he had to be at the gymnasium for practice.

There was a whole crowd that surrounded the signup sheet which made his attempt to approach impossible. He sighed, trying to peek over the crowd of students who rushed to write their names down on the sheet of paper.

“Hey, Jay!” Ricky exclaimed while swinging an arm over his team captain.

“Hey.” He said, startled by his sudden appearance. Ricky looked ahead of him, grimacing at the sight.

“There’s no way this many people actually like drama… It’s so boring! I hated that class last year.” He whispered.

“Anyways, practice begins in five. How come you’re not early like always?” He’d ask, catching Jay off guard.

5 minutes of him struggling had already gone by within a blink of an eye. “Oh, uh, I was trying but the crowd blocked off my shortcut.” Jay lied, mentally scolding himself for how bad it was.

“No worries, I got you covered.” Ricky winked and clicked his tongue while pointing a finger gun at Jay with his free hand.

The two began to walk towards the gymnasium together as Jay felt his soul leaving his body. He definitely wasn’t going to succeed with signing up today. But he had a week to do so, eventually, he should succeed, right?

Maybe?

“Alright, gather around!” Their coach said while clapping his hands together. The 10 sweaty boys made their way towards their coach, all breathing heavily.

“I know you’re tired, but let’s do a quick practice match.” He suggested, earning disappointed sighs from every single one of them.

“Hey, hey. It’ll be beneficial. Your game is in 2 days, don’t forget.” He said, reminding them all. They nodded and proceeded to split themselves into two teams. Both teams sent their tallest members on both sides to the center for the tip–off.

“First team to score 10 wins.” Said their coach. He’d blow his whistle, throwing the ball up in the air as both team members rushed up to grab it, but eventually, the red team had the ball in possession.

“It’s okay, you’ll get it next time!” Jay reassured Ricky as he jogged back out in the open.

The ball dribbling echoed through the quiet gymnasium that only picked up on the sounds of their shoes squeaking against the polished floors and whistle-blowing.

“Get open!” Heeseung said to his team members as they spread out across the court.

He searched for an open teammate, sending the ball straight to Mark’s hands. He’d take this opportunity to dribble the ball, trying to get free from Ricky’s defence but kept failing. His eyes shifted to K’s free figure as he attempted a bouncing ball pass to only be blocked by Ricky.

Ricky caught the ball once Mark threw it to the ground and began to dribble it once more while sprinting to the opposing team’s key.

“Nice one!” Their coach cheered as Ricky passed the ball to Jake immediately who took the opportunity to shoot a 2-pointer, making it in, flawlessly.

Jake smiled in satisfaction while high-fiving his team members.

“Keep it up, Ricky. That was a good steal.” Heeseung said.

“Woah! Isn’t this cross-teaming?” Jisung was quick to address it in a teasing manner as they all laughed and waved it off.

“Okay, 2 points for the blue team! Red team, inbound.” Their coach instructed as they all followed through. They got into their positions, Jay guarding Heeseung, Eric guarding K, Jake guarding Jisung, and Ricky guarding Mark. Sohee stood outside of the out-of-bounds line while figuring out the many outcomes if he inbounded the basketball to a certain team member.

Eventually, the whistle blew as he threw it to Mark who managed to get free from Ricky’s guarding this time. He dribbled the ball to the other side of the court, stopping when needed. He then proceeded to turn without moving his pivot foot in an attempt to see who was free and who wasn’t.

His plan didn’t go as well as he’d thought it would due to the difference in their heights, causing him to sigh in frustration.

“Dude, I can’t see anything. You’re too tall.” He mumbled, making Ricky chuckle at his sudden confession.

“I get that a lot, actually,” Ricky said back as Mark rolled his eyes and passed the ball to his nearest teammate, Heeseung, who managed to run up towards him, leaving Jay behind.

Jay followed through and immediately began guarding Heeseung, there was no way he’d let his opponents get a point like that.

His eyes focused on the ball in Heeseung’s hand, watching its every movement. It kept a constant routine; dribble, hit Heeseung’s hand, and dribble again.

Jay then looked up at Heeseung, making eye contact with him. Heeseung looked away in search of his teammates as Jay followed his eyes. He’d grit his teeth in frustration, realizing that none of his team members were able to get free.

So, instead of passing the ball around, he went in. He’d dribble the ball while sprinting toward the opposing team’s net, performing a layup shot as Jay jumped up in hopes of blocking him and did so with force.

The ball goes dashing down to the ground, alerting the others who rushed to the ball. Ricky caught the ball, running his fastest to the opposite side of the court while Sohee chased after him. The two rose to the top of the net as Ricky reached up to tip the ball into the net but was abruptly interrupted by the sudden stinging of his wrist.

The whistle blew, gaining their attention as the two landed back onto the court, the ball dribbling away from them.

“Sohee, try to avoid fouling, okay?” Their coach said as Sohee nodded. They were all exhausted, breathing heavily as sweat droplets dribbled down their temples. 3 more points were needed.

Only three and the blue team would win. It shouldn’t be that hard, right?

Gladly, it wasn’t. The boys sighed out of exhaustion while taking their seats on the benches of their changing room.

“Nice play, guys. I’m sure we’ll do even better when we’re on the actual court.” Jay reassured them as they all smiled.

He got up from the bench and headed towards his assigned locker. He was ready to go home, especially after his long day of school. In a hurry, he removed the towel that rested around his neck, followed by his sweat-drenched t-shirt.

He then picked up the towel, dapping away at the sweat droplets that trickled from his jawline to his neck and around his collarbone, releasing a relaxed sigh.

“Yo, Jay,” called Mark as Jay looked over at the said boy.

“Hm?” He hummed, looking away afterwards.

“Are you free after school tomorrow?” Mark asked.

“I believe so. Why?” Jay replied while rummaging through his backpack for his necessities.

“I was wondering if you wanted to study together, then go out and play some video games. It's been a while since we last did so.” Mark explained while putting on his shoes.

"Sure, why not—”

“Which one of you did it?"

ACT THREE.

The sudden commotion made all their heads turn to its location. Most of them sighed and rolled their eyes at the sight as Jay stayed quiet. What was going on?

“Don’t you just love barging into our own private spaces?" K teased, approaching the doorway while buttoning up the last few buttons of his undershirt.

“I wonder if you guys also rehearse these moments in your drama meetings,” he started.

“Well, I mean, you are the club’s leader, right? I’m sure you’d know.” He said, but you remained silent and furious.

You never understand why your club members hated the basketball team in the first place. Yes, they were quite rowdy, but the same day your set pieces were broken, they lost their basketball. Which truly meant they couldn’t have been the cause of the incident, right?

Of course, that's what you believed, but the more you searched for the script for your club’s play, the more you doubted yourself. You felt enraged. There wasn’t anyone else who’d try to sabotage your club except for the basketball team. So you went to ask them for yourself.

You were already in a bad mood and didn’t want to put up with any of K’s antics, but he wasn’t helping. You didn’t care that you were currently facing a group of boys; some were shirtless while others sat on the benches, switching shoes or calming themselves down.

“What is it now?” K asked, resting on a row of lockers.

“Our script for our play is missing. Which one of you took it?” You’d ask again as Jay’s eyes slightly widened.

“Why would we take your club’s script? We have better things to focus on.” K said while crossing his arms.

He was a good liar—quite amazing, actually. Jay was surprised that K was able to lie easily without hesitating when it came to you. Maybe that was Jay’s own problem…

Eric minded his own business and continued to pack things into his backpack. He knew he’d slip up if he were to join in the argument, blowing their cover away.

Jay grabbed his tank top, slipping it on before his undershirt in an attempt to distract himself and drown out the conversation nearby. He gulped nervously and slipped his arms through the designated holes of his undershirt, glancing over at the two who argued.

“Once again, we didn’t steal anything. You guys are always accusing us of this.” K sighed, looking over at Jay, who looked away immediately.

“Right, Jay? We didn’t take anything.” K asked, causing Jay to stiffen.

He looked over at the two, making eye contact with you, then K. He signalled a look to Jay, hoping he understood its meaning. Jay was good at lying and could lie without hesitation, but how come he couldn’t do it with you?

“Yeah, we didn’t.” He managed to let out after hesitating many times before. Normally, after he told a lie, he didn’t feel any sort of way. He always found them as a way to save himself in certain situations, but he felt tremendously guilty telling a lie to you.

The two of you only exchanged a few words and a few moments of eye contact with each other, yet he felt like he was committing a crime. It was weird and confusing to him, at least.

“See, even proof from our captain. If that’s all you need, please shoo—or whatever you drama freaks say during your plays.” K said while pushing himself off the lockers and heading towards his backpack. You looked around the changing room, making eye contact with Jay once more, before leaving, still as enraged as when you first arrived.

Once you were out of the gymnasium, Jay rushed over to K with no hesitation.

“Dude? You know you took the script, so why did you lie?” He asked as K looked up at him.

“What do you mean, I took the script? You were with Eric and I, so it wasn’t only my doing.” He said back, making Jay frustrated.

He was so frustrated over nothing.

The other boys in the changing room turned their heads to look at where the voices were coming from.

“I tried to say no, but you guys made me go either way. I knew we’d get caught, yet you both insisted on doing so.” Jay’s words caused K’s eyebrows to rise slightly.

“Why the fuck are you so mad? You’re acting as if this is anything new. Plus, I’m not even the only one who lied, you did too.” He said, still confused as to why Jay was so mad, but began getting a little irritated at Jay’s sudden anger.

“Because you made me! Why would you put me in a spot like that in the first place? Like you said before, it wasn’t just me who was with you. Eric was there too, and still, you only called on me?” Jay asked while pointing at Eric and then at K.

K furrowed his brows. Jay was practically arguing with him for no reason, and it wasn’t making K feel any calmer.

“Bro, did someone piss in your cereal this morning or something? Why are you so mad over a simple incident that happens almost all the time?" K asked, as mad as Jay.

K stared into Jay’s eyes as he remained silent. Ricky took out an earbud, looking up at the sight of his team captain and one of their star players staring at each other in rage. He looked around the room, noticing that nobody said anything as all eyes were on the two from earlier.

“Woah, Jay, what’s up with you today?” Ricky asked while walking over to the two arguing boys. Jay was never one to pick arguments with friends, teammates, opponents, teachers, you name it. So, seeing this was not a regular sight.

Jay ignored Ricky, walked back to his locker to grab his belongings, and left the changing room while pushing past Ricky and K.

“What’s up with him? It’s almost like he’s against us and stands with the drama club.” K said while calming down.

“I doubt it,” Sohee said while tying his laces.

“It probably was pent-up stress from everything he had going on today. His schedule was pretty packed, so…” Heeseung added as the other boys nodded in agreement.

“Probably,” K said under his breath.

Even Jay hoped that was the reason. Ever since he laid eyes on you, he’s seen you practically everywhere; in the halls, the school’s garden, his dreams at night, during the day, and much more. At this rate, he couldn’t escape you at all.

As he made his way to the school entrance, the signup sheet caught his attention. School was out, and there was no one but his team members and you in the school. It wouldn’t hurt to at least attempt signing up before it was too late, right?

He approached the sign-up sheet while looking around the empty halls for any bystanders. There were already names written down on the sheet, and space was almost gone. He picked up the pen, going in to write his name in a tiny font, but was then startled by a distressed scream.

The scream didn’t scare Jay. What scared Jay was the fact that he was almost caught. He backed away from the signup sheet and looked down the hallway, revealing an angry you in the process. You looked up from your shoes, making eye contact with him as you glared.

He looked away, unsure of what to do or say, and speed-walked out of the school doors. There was no way their club leader, who was already mad enough, was going to catch Jay doing the unthinkable.

You rolled your eyes and made your way back to the clubroom to clean up the mess you made in search of the script. What were you going to tell your club members? You were supposed to proofread it today. Everything was planned, but the script suddenly missing ruined it all.

You’d sigh while running your fingers through your hair in frustration. Maybe you misplaced it somewhere, and maybe the basketball team was just misunderstood. It couldn’t be that hard to find.

You pulled out your phone and opened your reminders app. “Make an announcement about the missing script,” you mumbled as you typed away at your phone’s keyboard. You turned off your phone, slipping it back into your blazer’s pocket.

Hopefully, you can sleep this stress away.

Jay woke up in a sweat. His heart was racing as ragged breaths exited his lips. He sat up in an attempt to calm his breathing and racing heart. He’d glance at the bright light his phone emitted due to a new notification. The clock read 6:02 AM, way earlier than he normally wakes up.

He rubbed his eyes, knowing he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep after that ‘dream’ of his. He got out of bed, slipped into his slippers, and approached the door to his bathroom. It was still quite dark outside, which felt off.

Normally, Jay would be awake by 7:40 AM, around the time the sun would rise. He also rarely had nightmares, but last night was weird. He doesn’t know why he even considered this a nightmare. You two weren’t even close, yet seeing you fall for someone else scared him.

He felt jealous even when he had no reason to feel so. The bathroom light was brighter than usual, causing his eyes to have a harder time adjusting to the sudden brightness. He squinted while looking at himself in the mirror.

He sure looked like a mess.

He picked up his toothbrush, followed by his toothpaste, and squeezed a bit onto the rough bristles. He’d place his toothbrush in his mouth with a sigh as he continued to stare at himself through the mirror.

What has gotten into him? Even throughout his crushes at the start of his high school years, he didn’t feel like this at all. He’s only laid eyes on you a few times and barely exchanged words with you to be able to develop a crush. So, what were all these dreams—and nightmares—all about? He spat into the sink, staring at the running faucet as his grip tightened on the edge of the sink.

Maybe shooting some hoops would get his mind off of this, which explains why he was at school an hour earlier than usual.

He slipped off his backpack, placed it beside the net pole, and went to crack open a window to get rid of the humid feeling. He then grabbed the nearest basketball in the process. He made his way towards the free-throw line, dribbling the basketball on his way there.

Once he arrived, he spun the ball in his hands to get a better grip and focused his attention on the net before him. He positioned his arms, getting comfortable with the ball and the distance between him and the basketball hoop.

Suddenly, as he let the ball slip from his fingertips, his thoughts became filled with you. The sound of the basketball ricocheting off of the net’s rim brought him back to reality. For some reason, he couldn’t escape you.

Luckily, the ball made its way back to Jay’s feet, making his job way easier. He picked up the ball, discarding the thoughts from earlier as he prepared to shoot again. This time, he dribbled the ball a few times before letting it slip from his grip.

He watched as the ball bounced off the backboard and back into his hands. Usually, he doesn’t miss his shots like this, even if his mind is filled with many distracting things. Immediately after catching the ball, he let it loose again, missing completely.

Again, he immediately shot the ball after picking it up, but of course, he missed. And again, and again, and again, and again… He even tried doing different types of shots; a layup, a three-pointer, another free throw, a 1-pointer, and missed every single one of them.

He paused, holding the ball in his hands. He was exhausted. Panting from all the previous shots he attempted to only end up missing every 14 throws. He took a seat, sighing in disappointment. He was frustrated, very frustrated.

He pulled out his cell phone from his pocket, checking the time in the process. Only 20 minutes had gone by since he first arrived at the school’s gym meaning he had another 40 minutes to pass.

Well, that would be hard. He might as well try practicing again.

In all honesty, you didn’t mean to arrive at school this early. You woke up, panicking. Your alarm didn’t go off, and the clock on your wall read 8:05 AM. You were late—very late.

Or so you thought.

Once you hopped onto the bus, wondering if it could drive any faster, you pulled out your phone, checking the time once more, only to be disappointed.

It was 7:20 AM, not 8:20 AM. Screw you for not checking your phone when you first woke up.

You sighed and facepalmed in an attempt to contain your frustration. As the bus pulled up to your stop, you mentally scolded yourself while walking off, after thanking the bus driver, of course. In your defence, you were too busy worrying about the missing script for your club, distracting yourself from taking care of your own mind.

The more you thought about the script incident, the more you began to feel bad for your outburst on the basketball team. Your grip tightened on the straps of your backpack as you walked down the school’s halls in silence.

You had no clue where your feet were taking you, but with every step, you finally reached the gym doors. You hesitated. What if they weren’t in there? There could be a possibility that they had a morning practice, but there was a high chance they wouldn’t want to see you even more after yesterday’s incident.

You were ready to walk away, but your feet weren’t. You looked down at your shoes, waiting for one of them to take the first steps, because, for some reason, you couldn’t do it on your own. The sound of a basketball bouncing off the polished wooden floors echoed on your side of the door. You looked over at the blue doors in silence, debating if you should take the chance.

Suddenly, one thing happened and then another, leaving your mind confused. Your mind had no time to register what was happening, leaving your body to move on its own.

The sound of the basketball bouncing off the gym floor came to a stop as you realized what had just happened; you opened the doors to the gym without your knowledge.

You stared at the person who stood in the middle of the court, trying to pinpoint who it was. It was dark in the gymnasium, the only light being the rising sun that slightly seeped through the blocked windows.

ACT FOUR.

Jay looked at the entrance, just as confused as they were. He had no clue who was standing at the entrance and couldn’t see much due to the limited access to lighting.

“I…” You mumbled, removing your hand from the doorknob immediately.

“I, um, I’m sorry if I interrupted something.” You said, looking away.

“No, it’s fine…” Jay replied, clearly out of breath.

You looked back, genuinely curious to find out who it was and why they were alone, unaware that you were approaching the court. Their voice sounded familiar to you. It was as if you heard it quite a lot throughout an average school day.

“Did you need something?” Jay asked, dribbling the ball as they got closer to him.

“Not really,” you said as you began to walk around the court, trying your best to avoid the person before you.

He repositioned the ball in his hold, throwing it into the hoop once more.

“You seem like you do,” Jay said, causing their brows to furrow.

“How? You can’t even see me.” You joked, earning a small laugh from them.

“You know what I meant,” Jay replied, holding a smile while making his way to the rolling basketball. You two became silent; the only sound that filled the gymnasium was their shoes rubbing against the floor with the bouncing basketball noises to back it up.

You fiddled with your fingers as you watched their silhouette run up to the net, letting the ball roll off their fingers as it found its way into the hoop. Although you couldn’t see much, you were still impressed. The sunlight that seeped through the blinds shined on their features, flashing the vibrant blue hair colour and their fit build.

From this observation, you couldn’t hold back the question that slipped through your lips, “Do you play basketball?” You asked as they stopped moving.

“Yeah, I came early to shoot some hoops. I had to get my mind off of things.” Jay replied, dribbling the ball as he approached the three-point line.

He was satisfied with the shot he just took—he finally made it in. After the last 30 minutes he was there for, he finally got one of his many shots in. He smiled as he looked up from the line and turned around.

He faced the net, positioning the ball in his hands, hoping that whatever miracle happened a moment ago would happen again.

You watched from the bleachers, taking in every detail of their movements; they bent their knees and moved their arms as well as the ball in the process, eyes were focused on the net’s backboard, arms pulled back slightly, and suddenly, the ball was in the air.

The ball successfully went inside the hoop another time, and you began to clap in excitement. They turned around with what you hoped was a smile (and was) as you returned it. A sudden breeze from the slightly cracked opened window blew the blinds around, revealing the sunlight that was previously seeping through them as it shined on both of you.

“I’m sorry.” You blurted after realizing who you were speaking to. The leader of the basketball team—the main reason you came here.

The ball rolled to his feet as he stared back at you with wide eyes.

“What?” He asked, confused.

“I’m sorry. That’s what I originally came here for—to apologize.” You explained. You looked around and then checked the time on your phone.

“I have to go prepare for the club today, but I’m sorry for yesterday’s outburst.” You said, grabbing your stuff to leave.

Jay stood in silence, the ball still at his feet, and you were now gone. He was unsure as to what you were apologizing for but didn’t ask many questions. Yesterday’s outburst… That was all he needed to know.

He picked up the basketball, threw it into the hoop, and of course, it didn’t go in.

Why?

Because you still haven’t left his mind.

ACT FIVE.

Jay stared at the locker before him. It read the number 734.

K’s locker.

He gulped nervously, wondering if he’d regret doing this later.

If he got caught, would that continue to ruin the relationship between him and his teammates, or would doing this be beneficial and help him get into The Wizard of Oz?

Maybe the first option.

He looked around the empty halls, double-checking that he was alone. He gripped the hall pass in his left hand as he reached out for the lock with his right. He had to hurry. The excuse of ‘using the bathroom’ wouldn’t work for long until others started to think he had the runs.

Honestly, he didn’t know why he cared so much about your club. Yes, he liked drama, but he never cared for the club, mainly before he found out about their club leader—you.

Jay turned the wheel on the lock, following the same pattern K executed when unlocking his locker; pass 0 three times, then turn the wheel to your first number, 16. Spin counter-clockwise, passing the previous number twice, and arrive at your next number, 34. Lastly, turn the wheel to your final number, 4, and yank on the lock with the hope that you made no mistakes.

The code had all even numbers, and as weird as it was, the code suited K very well. On the court, he was very persistent and strategic, his plans always included all the teammates since all the roles evened out perfectly.

Jay opened the locker, scanning the hallways once more before reaching for in what he came here for, the play script. He shut the locker, and a loud slam echoed through the empty hallways, startling Jay at the same time.

Either he was just really nervous or the locker was truly loud.

He held the script close to his chest, letting his feet take him wherever. His plan only focused on retrieving the script, not what came after. Suddenly, he stood in front of the Drama clubroom, a wave of nostalgia washing over him.

He crouched down, unsure of what he should do next. Should he slip the script from underneath or between the cracks of the door? Jay looked at the thickness of the script and shook his head. There was no way it’d fit in between.

So, he went with plan A, slipping it from underneath the door. He used his index fingers to slip the script in slowly, hoping it wouldn’t disturb anyone on the other side—not that he wanted anyone there. He’d hate that.

He was so focused on being quiet that he didn’t take note of the footsteps behind him.

“Park Jongseong.” The voice was deep and very familiar. A hall monitor—Seungcheol. He was the only person who called Jay by his government name, the one on his student files. Jay froze in panic and slowly turned around.

“Hey…” He greeted, cautiously. Luckily for him, Seungcheol stood quite far from his spot on the ground. Jay rose, hiding the script behind him.

“What are you doing out of class?” He asked, searching his hidden hands for a hall pass.

“I was excused,” Jay began but paused.

“For?” Seungcheol asked, but Jay remained silent. His mouth opened and closed, like a fish out of water, as he thought of his next words. He couldn’t lie and say he was excused to use the bathroom, right? How would that explain why he was currently standing in front of the Drama clubroom anyway?

He stared at Seungcheol as Seungcheol stared back. “Jongseong, what are you doing out of class?” He asked once again, but Jay still didn’t have an answer. How could he lie in a situation like this?

Yes, he was good at lying, but not under pressure.

In silence, Jay’s eyes shifted over to a spot behind Seungcheol.

“What is that?” He asked with genuinely concerned eyes. Seungcheol turned around, worried, while Jay took it as a sign to proceed with his plan.

He let go of the script, letting it fall to the floor and kicked it with his heel, causing it to slide under the door completely from the impact. Perfect.

“What are we looking at?” Seungcheol asked, turning around to face Jay who smiled at him.

“Ah, I must’ve been mistaken.” He apologized, rubbing at the back of his neck sheepishly.

“I’m sorry.” He added, completing the apology. “I should head back to class now, shouldn’t I?” Jay said to a confused Seungcheol.

“See you later.” Jay waved goodbye, walking past the hall monitor and in the opposite direction his class was located.

Seungcheol was suspicious of him, but there wasn’t much he could do. He was aware of Jay’s reputation as the boys’ basketball team leader. But he was also aware of the rivalry between the team and the Drama club.

Maybe he shouldn’t question much of it, right?

Seungcheol sighed and rubbed at his temples in an attempt to soothe away these useless thoughts, which, spoiler alert, did work.

Jay quickly turned into a random corridor in the hallway he walked in, exhaling a heavy breath. One he held in and wasn’t aware of. His hand rested on the wall beside him as his eyes closed. Why was he nervous? He never was when lying.

It was scary knowing how much of an effect you had on him.

“Excuse me.” A voice called. He opened one of his eyes, glancing at the figure before him, and flinched once he recognized them. He straightened up immediately and cleared his throat. He stared into their eyes as they stared back into his eyes in silence.

“You’re in my way…” You said, hoping that would help his clueless self.

“Oh, right.” He blurted and moved out of your way. Before leaving, you gave him an awkward smile, still not over this morning’s incident.

Both of you weren’t. It wasn’t something to worry about too, but for some reason, you both did. It was weird.

Jay’s thoughts were clouded with the conversations from this morning. If only he had known you were the one talking to him, just maybe he would’ve purposely tried harder on his shots. And if you were lucky enough, you could’ve seen his trick shots. But instead, he held back. It was only a warmup, after all.

“Jay,” you called, making his stomach twist and turn. Why did your voice saying his name have such an effect on him? He had no clue either.

“Jay.” You called again, turning around to stare at him.

Either he was dreaming or going crazy, there was no way you’d say his name a second time while staring into his eyes. What was going to happen next? Perhaps something more?

“Could you let go?” You asked, shaking your hand to avert his attention from the movement.

“Oh,” Jay whispered.

Oh.

Jay let go of your hand, looking away while doing so. He was embarrassed. Very embarrassed. He glanced at you for a split moment, catching the same awkward smile you sent him before.

Great, he embarrassed himself badly.

You walked away, continuing your route from before, leaving Jay behind. Once you were out of his sight, he gripped at his scalp, pulling at his blue strands. Why did he do that? He had no clue. He wasn’t even aware of his sudden action.

Was it because of his so-called nightmare from last night? None of this made sense.

Especially the way Jay’s heart raced while butterflies danced in his stomach.

What the hell was happening to him?

“Is he okay?” Sohee asked from the other side of the court.

“I have no clue,” Mark replied, staring at their team captain alongside Sohee.

“Our game is tomorrow, how the hell is he going to play in this condition?” K exclaimed to the two boys.

“Hey, Jay!” K shouted, heading the boy's way. Mark and Sohee’s eyes widened at the sight, already imagining what would go down.

The two argued only a day ago and never made up—or at least that’s what their teammates thought—this would only escalate to something worse than the locker room incident.

Mark and Sohee ran after K in hopes of stopping him, but instead, K pushed them off of him. They failed miserably.

Jay looked up at K in silence. His fingers pinched at the palm of his right hand out of habit. His mind was elsewhere, not focused on the practice he attended.

He missed all his practice shots and game shots, constantly fouled, and played terribly overall. It was hard to watch.

“What’s wrong with you today—fuck that, what’s wrong with you lately?” K asked, staring down at Jay.

“What are you on about?” Jay asked cluelessly.

He knew exactly what K was referring to. But he couldn’t answer because he had no clue himself. His mind was so full of you that he couldn’t even comprehend what their coach was explaining today.

“What am I on about? Dude, you’re missing all your shots, fouling us like crazy, and even tripping over the ball! This is basketball, not soccer!” K explained, his anger slowly getting to him. He was frustrated.

Very frustrated.

“I don’t know either,” Jay said. He wasn’t lying, it was the full truth.

“Well, figure it out and straighten up. Our game is tomorrow, we can’t lose the second last game of the season.” K warned in a stern tone. It was almost as if he was the team leader instead of Jay.

“I’ll try,” Jay mumbled, turning away to the locker room. “You’ll try?” K asked, even more frustrated at his response.

“How are you going to try on the court if you can’t even try at practice?!” K exclaimed.

“I don’t know. I’ll figure it out,” Jay said with a sigh. He was tired, so tired. He went through enough today, and dealing with K’s frustration wasn’t on his to-do list.

He walked away, making his way to the locker room. K’s footsteps approached him from behind. They were harsh and loud. Every single one almost sounded like a full stop in a sentence.

“Hey!” K shouted, forcefully turning Jay around by his shoulder. They stared into each other’s eyes, K searching Jay’s for whatever he yearned for while Jay just stared.

He wasn’t looking for anything, all of K’s emotions were prominent on their own; anger, frustration, and a hint of sadness.

“You’ve been acting weird lately. First, you get all defensive about the script stealing, then you get all mad that we lied to Y/N about stealing the script.” K paused.

“Are you betraying us right now?” He asked, causing Jay’s brows to furrow. At this point, all eyes were on them. Their coach went to grab some cleaning supplies for the basketballs from his office but hasn’t returned since. He always misses arguments.

“Betraying you?” Jay was confused. “What does any of that have to do with me ‘betraying’ you guys?” Jay asked the boy in front of him.

“Why do you care for the Drama club so much? You’re aware of our hatred for them, aren’t you?” K’s words hit like an arrow.

“Jay, be honest, have you ever hated them?” K asked, causing Jay to stiffen. It was obvious he stiffened, even K noticed it. K scoffed at the sight, looking away for a moment.

“You can’t be serious. Those stuck-up brats blamed us for something we didn’t even do, yet you’re fine with them?” K said, and Jay opened his mouth to reply but was silenced by K’s voice.

"Kazuha, that annoying little girl and Y/N’s snotty little attitude—”

“Her attitude isn’t snotty.” Jay sternly interrupted K’s sentence.

“Why should you care if it is or not? She and her minions know how to do nothing but accuse and insult.” K insulted, rolling his eyes at the memories.

“They’re terrible people, especially Jungwon and Y/N—”

Jay’s hand bunched up K’s collar, silencing him immediately. K was shocked by Jay’s sudden movements but regained his composure soon after.

The two stared into each other’s eyes again, Jay’s showcasing his anger as K’s did the same. Eric rushed over before things could escalate, forcing Jay’s hand off of K’s collar.

“You need to chill out. Honestly, I don’t know what has gotten into you or what you’re going through right now, but please, talk it out with someone. Or even better, talk it out with us.” Eric suggested, but Jay ignored him and walked off into the locker room as K fixed his top.

K’s eyes narrowed while his brows furrowed. He hated the look in Jay’s eyes just now. It was something he had never seen before.

Truly, what the hell was wrong with him? Jay still couldn’t answer.

ACT SIX.

The sound of the tap water running echoed throughout Jay’s washroom. He stood there in silence, watching how it pooled up in the sink and then disappeared as his grip tightened on the ledge.

“Mom says if you’re going to use the water, use it. It’s been running for the last 20 minutes. It can’t possibly take you that long to wash up.” A knock and a voice emitted from the doorway, causing Jay to look over, revealing the sight of his younger sister, Songyee.

“Okay,” Jay said, turning off the tap water as Songyee left. He grabbed a towel nearby to dry his drenched face, water droplets dripping down from his chin and onto the marble counters.

The footsteps on the staircase caught his attention as he looked over at the door once more. “Songyee!” He exclaimed, calling her back to the washroom. She sighed and made her way over, resting on the doorframe once she arrived.

“What?” She asked, waiting for Jay to speak.

“Would you do something your friends wouldn’t be happy with?” He asked, hoping she would give a proper answer, but instead, her brows furrowed. She relaxed after a few moments of silence and crossed her arms.

“Depends,” she said, her words slipping out as a sigh. Jay looked at her, confused, waiting for her to elaborate.

Depends? That was not what he wanted to hear.

“I would, of course, tell them. They should be mad after you tell them, instead of them being mad after finding out you kept it a secret.” She emphasized, causing Jay to pause his movements.

He brought the towel away from his face and stared at himself in the mirror. His sister’s words replayed in his head, with a bigger emphasis on the word secret. He was good at keeping secrets. Maybe that was a problem.

“Songyee,” he started as she hummed in response.

“What if I quit the team?” He asked, his words startling her.

“Are you crazy?! Jongseong, this is literally an opportunity for your scholarship. It’s an easier way out than Mom and Dad paying for your tuition fee.” She shouted while Jay hung up the towel again, slightly tensing at the use of his government name.

“There’s two more games and the season’s done. All you have to do is win them both. Why are you thinking about this? What has gotten into you?” She asked, genuinely concerned.

“I don’t know. Okay? I don’t know!” He said in a harsh tone. Songyee was taken aback by his sudden harsh tone. What did she say to trigger something within him?

“Everyone keeps asking me the same question. How am I supposed to answer if I don’t know myself?” He asked with the same harsh tone, looking straight at her.

His eyes stared into her wide ones as he came back to his senses. He cursed under his breath, looking away.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to take it out on you.” He added, running his fingers through his blue strands.

“It’s okay,” Songyee whispered. “Sleep well, okay? Whatever you’re stressing over, don’t think about it too much. Take my advice when you can.” She said, followed by a quiet goodnight, and left the doorway.

Jay was tired. He was tired of how he reacted to K’s words, your presence, and his sister’s question. He had a game tomorrow, that’s truly all he had to focus on.

The second last game of the season. All he had to do was quickly sign up for the play and rush over to the gymnasium to prepare for his game.

Easy, right?

He turned off the bathroom light and headed to his room. He could finalize his plan in the morning because he was too tired to think logically right now. He turned off the lights in his bedroom and made his way to his bed.

His eyes fell shut as he drifted off to dreamland. Hopefully, he can have a good rest.

His alarm woke him up, the bright light read 6:45 AM. He rubbed his eyes while turning it off. You could say he had a somewhat good sleep.

The whole time, while Jay got ready, he recited his plan; arrive at school on time, during lunch he’ll sign up for the play and take note of the audition day, then head to his basketball match after school. Those were only the main points of his day, even if attending class was always included in his plans, it was never mentioned.

He got off the bus after thanking the driver and walked towards the entrance of Decelis.

If he was being honest, there was a slight awkward tension between him and Songyee during breakfast, but he didn’t pay much attention to it as she did the same, focusing on eating their meal.

He adjusted the straps of his backpack, blending in with the many other students who walked into the school. His eyes glanced at the pillar the audition sheet hung on, smiling. His plan would definitely work.

He’d look back in front of him, pausing abruptly. “Oh, sorry,” he apologized at the sudden collision.

“It’s okay,” you replied, causing Jay’s eyes to widen.

“Also, I apologize to your team once again. We found the play script, I guess someone returned it.” You said, smiling at the memory.

“Other than that, good luck on your game today.” Your smile grew as you waved at him and walked away.

To be honest, his heart was racing. He had no clue why. You were just doing the bare minimum, yet he was going crazy. He shook his head, inhaling and exhaling to calm his racing heart.

In the process, he looked down the crowded halls, making eye contact with a familiar boy, K. Usually, they’d be alongside him while walking down the hallways, but their group chat was quiet all evening and morning. They couldn’t plan their daily meetup in this condition.

K rested his back on his locker with his backpack swung over one shoulder—his signature look. Eric’s lips moved while staring at K. He was most likely rambling about an incident in the video game he played the night before. It was something he did often. The morning wouldn’t feel complete if he didn’t.

K rolled his eyes, scoffing, once Jay looked over at the two.

“Let’s go,” K said as Eric nodded, confused, but didn’t think much about it. He continued rambling about the video game as they made their way to class.

Jay sighed, regretting yesterday’s argument. It was obvious K was still mad at him for it. Was Jay really betraying his teammates over a play? He had no clue.

He shrugged it off, making his way to his first-period class that he shared with the two boys. English. Good luck to him, for sure.

Throughout all of his morning classes, Jay anxiously bounced his leg. He was impatient, wanting lunch to arrive faster.

English was quite awkward, mainly due to the seating plans; K sat behind Jay, who sat in the middle, and Eric sat in front of him. It was something they begged their teacher to do so they could talk whenever, but today wasn’t the case.

Eric even got up from his seat, sitting beside K, to chat with him and him alone. There were even moments when K would call Eric’s name from behind Jay, causing them to talk with Jay sitting in the middle.

It was very awkward, but he managed to deal with it for a whole hour and 15 minutes.

He waited until the end of lunch so the hallways could clear up a bit more before cautiously making his way to the signup sheet. He threw on his hood from the hoodie under his blazer, tying the strings to shield his blue hair.

Nobody could notice him at this rate.

He slowly reached out for the pen that hung on a thread, ready to write his name as small as possible in the corner.

“Jay?” Someone called from behind him as he stiffened. Their voice sounded too familiar.

Fuck. This wasn’t supposed to happen. How did they even recognize him with his hood like this?

“Oh, it is you.” Their voice said, their head peeking around his shoulder. Jay looked away, quickly dropping his hand to his side.

“What are you doing here?” They asked, but Jay stayed silent. What the hell was he supposed to say?

“I was just wondering who signed up…” He whispered, still loud enough for them to hear.

“Why? Doesn’t your team hate us?” They asked.

Us?

“Don’t tell me they sent you here to scribble all over the names or something.” Their tone was quite harsh as Jay shook his head. He turned his head to look at the person beside him, regretting his choice immediately.

It was you. No wonder your voice sounded familiar to him.

“Then what are you doing here?” You asked.

“I said I was just wondering who signed up.”

You hummed in response, reaching out your arms to the list of names. Jay backed up slightly, giving you more space.

“Wait, how did you even know it was me?” He asked, words coming out of his mouth without him knowing.

“Your blazer has your initials on it on the back... The whole basketball team has that feature, did you forget?” You said while skimming through the list of names.

Right, he did. He removed his hood, embarrassed.

The disguise was useless. She still could’ve thought he was Jisung, but that wouldn’t have worked. They purposely made Jay’s blazer read ‘PJY’ so they could tell each other apart.

Jay sighed, ruffling his messy hair with his hand. The bell went, catching both of your attention.

“Oh. I gotta go.” You said, waving goodbye at him as he did the same. He walked away from the pillar, heading to his next class.

His plan failed, but there was still another chance after school. Yes, it’ll mess up the plan he made this morning, but it should work.

Hopefully.

It was 2:45 PM. Jay was finally excused from class for his game in the gymnasium, but that’s not where he headed. He rushed over to the pillar upfront, hoping that the signup sheet was still there. It should be.

He watched you place it back before leaving, right? Or was that a hallucination? He couldn’t remember.

Once he arrived, his questions were answered. It was definitely a hallucination because the list of names wasn’t there.

Shit, what should he do? Either he headed to the gymnasium for his warmup and was on time, or he rushed over to the auditorium with the hope he could still participate.

Of course, he went with the second option. The school’s gymnasium was the last place he wanted to be. He rushed over to the auditorium, his duffel bag moving with his rushed footsteps. He pushed open the doors, walking through the hallway.

It was quiet. Too quiet. How late was he?

He caught his breath, scanning the auditorium for any signs.

“What are you doing here?” Jay turned around at the sound of a voice. Nakamura Kazuha, but this time she was disgusted.

“Are you here to sabotage our auditions now? Too bad, you’re too late.” She said, her words hitting Jay like a bullet.

Does he know how that feels? Nope, but it was a good word to use.

“Leave him alone, Zuha.” Another voice spoke, causing the two to face the entrance as you walked in.

“What are you doing here?” You asked Jay in a much nicer tone, a smile making its way to your face.

His face felt warm as the butterflies in his stomach moved to the beat of his heart—fast.

“Are you here to audition?” You asked as Kazuha’s eyes widened.

“Don’t you dare say yes, you fool—"

“Zuha.” You sternly called her name, silencing her.

“Well,” Jay started. This was his only chance, he couldn’t miss out on it. If he chickened out on admitting his true feelings once again, he knew he would regret it the moment he went home.

You never know what could happen after he admitted his true emotions. The words that were normally caught in his throat making it almost impossible to breathe finally escaped his lips.

"Yeah," Jay said, straightening up.

The heavy weight on his shoulders was lifted as Kazuha’s eyes widened, and yours did too, but you regained your composure quickly.

“I mean, there’s nothing wrong with that. But auditions are over.” You explained, searching Jay’s eyes for any change in emotion.

Was he being genuine, or was this a dare from his teammates?

“Oh,” Jay mumbled.

Great. His plan was ruined, and he was going to be late for his game.

Was God ever on his side at this point?

He gave the two girls a slight smile, saying his goodbyes.

"Good luck on your game,” you whispered, and he nodded. He left the auditorium, checking his watch while doing so.

It was 2:55 PM. Their game started at 3:00 PM. His teammates would definitely be mad at him. He rushed over to the gymnasium, out of breath once again. He was lucky the auditorium and gymnasium were near each other, leaving him with 3 minutes to change.

He didn’t even get to warm up.

He rushed into the locker room, being met with his angered teammates, especially K.

“Where were you? Weren’t you excused at 2:45 PM? Why didn’t you come here like everyone else?” K asked, following Jay to his locker.

“I’m sorry,” Jay apologized, placing his duffel bag on the bench in front of his locker. He removed his shirt, throwing it into his locker while rummaging around in his bag for his uniform.

“The fuck is an apology going to do? There’s 2 minutes left until our game starts. Hell, it would’ve been worse if everyone had to wait even longer for you.” K said as Jay slipped on his jersey.

Luckily for him, he wore his shorts underneath his uniform pants, slipping them off in haste.

“Well, I’m here now, aren’t I? Stop complaining,” Jay replied, annoyed at K’s words.

“You’re a terrible leader.” K spat, walking out of the locker room and pushing past the teammates who blocked the doorway, leaving the awkward and intense atmosphere behind.

He made his way to the team’s bench, taking his seat immediately.

“Is Jay here?” Their coach asked K.

“That asshole excuse of a leader? Yeah, he is.” K insulted, eyes still on the court.

“Watch your mouth.” Their coach warned as K rolled his eyes.

Right now, he didn’t care how harsh his words might’ve been. It felt like Jay was neglecting the team even while being their leader. He should be someone the team could rely on, and he was. But recently, he wasn’t. The team was all over the place, it was obvious they weren’t ready for today’s game.

The rest of the team members made their way out of the locker room, joining K on the bench.

“Starters for today’s match are K, Jay, Heeseung, Mark, and Eric.” Their coach explained, flipping through the sheets in his hand.

“You all know your positions, right?”

The group of boys nodded, some stretching in the process.

“Okay, go out there. Play hard.” He said with a smile.

The five boys made their way onto the court, taking their places, with K in the center like always.

“Focus,” K said to everyone, turning his head to Jay, who stood beside him.

“Especially you.” He said, glaring at him.

That was Jay’s line. He usually told the team to focus, then turned his head at one of their teammates, saying those exact words in a teasing manner. But the only difference with K’s words was that he wasn’t teasing Jay.

He was being serious.

As much as Jay wanted to respond to his words, he kept quiet, looking away from K.

“One member from each time, please step forward for tip-off.” One of the referees said, holding a ball with his unstretched arm in the middle of the court. K made his way to the center, meeting the opposing team member who was sent for tip-off as well.

They both glared at each other, getting into their defensive positions. The referee stretched his arm up, catching K and the opponent’s attention as they both looked up. He blew his whistle, throwing up the ball as the two boys jumped up towards it.

K tipped it over towards his teammates as Mark went after the ball. He dribbled, scoping the scenery while his guard made his way over. He’d pass the ball over to Heeseung, who ran across the court to the opposing team’s net.

Heeseung paused after catching the ball, shooting it into the net, and of course, he made it in, erupting cheers from the crowd.

2 down, and many more to go.

ACT SEVEN.

It’s honestly been a while since the match started. Decelis was doing great at the beginning until Jay touched the ball.

As much as it hurt to admit, he was ruining the momentum of the team. He fumbled with his dribbles, making it easier to steal the ball from him, missed his shots terribly, and even threw the ball at the referee.

He was embarrassing himself so badly.

The whistle blew, catching the players' attention. Jay was out of breath, using the bottom of his jersey to dab at the sweat line on his forehead.

“Time,” their coach said, calling the boys over.

“Dude, can you focus?” K said, walking beside Jay.

“I’m focusing,” Jay replied, lying straight through his teeth.

He’s been seeing you too much lately. You two were on proper terms to at least talk with each other, but that was worse for Jay.

Whatever he was feeling only got worse.

“You and I both know you’re not,” K said as they reached the team bench. Jay picked up a clean, folded towel, using it to dab at the rest of his sweat.

“What’s up with you and the Drama club leader?” K asked, wanting an answer.

“Nothing is going on between us,” Jay said, hesitating for a few moments.

“Yeah right,” K scoffed, looking away.

“Stop arguing.” Their coach said as the two stopped talking.

“Jay, I don't think you’re in a good condition to play.” He said, gaining Jay’s attention.

Those on the bench and those around him knew what was coming next, yet they were still shocked. They couldn’t believe their team leader and one of their star players were about to go through this.

“I’m sitting you out for the rest of the match.” He said, causing Jay’s eyes to widen.

“What?” He asked, confused. Genuinely confused.

“You’re messing up the team’s chemistry. We can’t have that happening right now.” Their coach explained and turned to call over the referee.

He explained to the referee that he was subbing out #1, Jay, for #19, Jisung. Switching out one PJ for another PJ.

What a classic move.

If the school’s newspaper club saw this, he only wondered what their headline would be; Decelis boys basketball team leader Park Jay, who’s also known as one of their star players, was benched during the second last game of the season?

He’d take that to his grave.

Jay took his seat on the bench in shame. This may be for the better. Who knows? Hell, he did.

Watching the team play without him was something he hated. And as much as he didn’t want to admit it, they were doing way better with Jisung.

There was no awkward tension between the members, they all got along while smiling if someone stole some points and comforting each other if one of them made a mistake.

Just by the looks of it, this was definitely for the better. Maybe he was right. Maybe the team is better without him.

They don’t need a silly little captain like him to lead them around to do well, it was obvious they were good on their own.

What if his thought from last night was more than a thought? What if it was the truth? Should he really quit the team for the better? They probably all hated him at this point, especially K.

Someone who used to always be by his side hated the thought of having to stand in the same room as him—Jay’s words, not K’s.

His eyes became a light shade of red, he wanted to cry. Could he cry? Of course not, that was too embarrassing, especially with how many people were near him at the moment.

However, he did it. Warm tears fell onto his hand, which rested on his knee. He was good at holding them in for the whole week, so why did he fail to do so just now?

How come something so stupid like this happened to be what triggered his tears? Why didn’t any of the arguments with K do anything either?

It was so obvious that he had no clue. He had too many questions to find answers to, yet he couldn’t.

He couldn’t do anything recently, it was terrible. He couldn’t play basketball properly, he couldn’t sign up for the play, he couldn’t express his feelings, he couldn’t hang out with those he loved most, and he couldn’t understand why he cared so much for you.

He couldn’t understand why you were always on his mind 24/7. He couldn’t understand why his heart raced while the butterflies in his stomach swayed at the sound of your name.

Nothing made sense to him, and he hated that. He raised his hand, wiping at the tears before they became too much for him.

Jay sat at the edge of the team bench, far away from his teammates. Did he even have the right to call them teammates in the first place? Did they see him as a teammate?

He felt as though he didn’t deserve to be in the same room as them at all. He was a terrible person. Someone who was afraid to admit a stupid secret to his friends because he was afraid they’d turn their backs on him.

If he told them at the start that he didn’t hate the Drama Club and actually found them cool, then he wouldn’t have been here. It was his fault for worrying about what people would think of him.

It was his biggest flaw.

He wiped at his tears, now using the towel from earlier, hoping it was enough, and luckily, it was. The thing is, was he really crying over the incident with the team, or was he crying over you?

He still had no clue.

ACT EIGHT.

After yesterday’s game, Jay went straight into the locker room to grab his stuff and leave. He didn’t stay for the celebration portion nor did he congratulate the team.

He just left.

Even during P.E. class, Jay didn’t talk to Sohee. He felt like he had no right to, even if Sohee didn’t hate him. He still felt guilty. They almost lost the first quarter because of him.

Once he arrived in P.E. class, their teacher announced that they would be going on a hike for marks—something about getting a chance to boost your grade if you were failing.

He had a 97 in this class, what was the point of him participating? He shrugged it off, deciding it would be a good way to ease his mind for a bit.

A great distraction.

As he climbed the hill, he thought to himself. Did he really change like everyone said he did? Was he a terrible leader? Did he still have his normal calm aura? Was he still serious when he was on the court? Did he possibly fall in love with you? Were you the cause of his problems?

He exhaled and continued his walk up the hill, wondering if he’d ever find an answer.

“Jay!”

He turned around to the sound of his name, revealing the crowd before him. All his classmates, including Sohee, stood in a circle as their teacher faced Jay’s way.

He motioned for Jay to come over, and he did. His eyes widened at the scene, worry washing over him almost immediately.

“You’re passing the class the most. So, don’t worry about this mark. But, can you take her to a nearby bench?” His teacher asked, signalling at your injured figure.

Jay looked down at you as you looked up, making eye contact with him. Your hands gripped onto your ankle, questioning why it hurt so much.

“Okay.” That was all Jay said before walking through the crowd and crouching down in front of you.

He wondered if he truly had the highest grade in his class. So many other students could’ve done his job, but his teacher picked him.

He was thankful that he did. It gives him more of an excuse to be close to you.

In silence, you got on his back, wrapping your arms loosely around his neck. He stood up, pushing you up to adjust your position on his back.

“Alright, thank you, Jay.” His teacher said as Jay smiled.

“Everyone else, let’s continue.” Their teacher led the other students to the route.

Jay watched them all walk past, making eye contact with Sohee, Jay’s smile faltering. Sohee looked like he wanted to say something, but he remained silent. Sohee looked away, jogging after the group of students, as Jay sighed.

He pushed the scene back in his mind, proceeding with his more important task, bringing you to a nearby bench.

He followed his class, hoping one was ahead because he didn’t want to go downhill.

“You can grip tighter, you know?” He said, hinting at your loose arms.

“I don’t want to choke you or anything.” You replied, refusing to do so.

“You won’t though, don’t worry.” He said while stepping over a tree branch. Is this how you injured yourself?

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

You followed through with his request, tightening your arms a bit more around his neck. You were quite embarrassed to be in a position like this one, hiding your face in his neck.

For some reason, you suddenly forgot about the aching pain in your ankle. All you cared about was the warmth of Jay’s back, how he delicately held onto your legs and the strong but easing scent of his detergent and cologne.

Due to how close you two are currently, you prayed that he couldn’t hear your racing heart. It raced just like that time you saw him in the gymnasium.

You weren’t sure what caught your attention—his blue hair or the way his eyes glistened in the distance due to the sunrise.

Or was the first time you felt this way when you met him on the first day of school in sophomore year? You doubt he would remember your first interaction with each other—just a quick collision that caused you to drop your belongings.

He was with his teammates, K and Eric who sent you glares, but was still nice enough to help you pick up the fallen items. It was the bare minimum, so how come you felt that way?

“We’re here,” Jay said, bringing you out of your thoughts. He turned around, crouching down in front of the bench. You took it as a sign to slip off his back, taking a seat on the wooden park bench behind you.

“What happened?” Jay asked, wondering how you injured yourself. You looked down at him, grip tightening on the edge of the bench. After a questionable amount of silence went by, he looked up at you, questioning your silence.

“Oh,” you said.

“I rolled my ankle on a root in the ground. I couldn’t walk afterwards because it hurt so bad, but I didn’t know why.” You explained, hoping it was enough.

He tapped on your shoe, silently asking for consent as you nodded. He looked back down at your shoe, removing it gently.

“Either you sprained your ankle or you just needed a break.” He said as he put your shoe to the side. He took your covered foot into his hold, slowly moving it around.

“Does this hurt?”

“No.”

“That’s good.” He said, chuckling softly with a smile. Once again, butterflies spawned in your stomach, your face became warm, and your heart began to race.

You could listen to him laugh and watch him smile for days.

“Jay,” you called as he hummed in response. You hesitated to ask your question. He looked up, questioning your silence.

“What’s wrong?” He asked with worried eyes.

“Do you really want to audition? It wasn’t a dare from your teammates, right?” You asked, staring straight into his eyes, searching them for any emotions they might’ve held. Jay’s movements paused on your foot as he stared back at you in silence.

“I do,” Jay began.

“I really do, seriously.” He said, looking back down at your foot.

“I just, can’t bring myself to do so…you know, my team hates you guys and your club hates us. It’ll feel like I’m betraying my team and our bond is already as broken as it is…” He explained, still softly toying with your foot.

You were distracted by his words, unprepared for the sudden shock of pain, causing you to wince quite loudly. Jay abruptly stopped his movements, looking straight at you with worried eyes.

“Did that hurt? I’m sorry.” He said worriedly, removing his hands from your foot and you raised your hand, waving it off immediately.

“It wasn’t your fault. I was just unprepared, sorry.” You apologized in an attempt to calm him down.

“But, what do you mean your bond is already broken as it is?” You quoted him, hoping it wasn’t invading his privacy.

“Oh,” he whispered, placing his hands back on your foot. He didn’t know how he should explain it, a lot happened anyway.

“Well, K and I have been arguing a lot recently… I also feel really guilty about making them almost lose the first quarter of yesterday’s game.” He explained, looking at the dirt on the ground.

“I even thought about leaving the team at some point. Everything is too much for me to handle right now. My mind isn’t in its right state, you know?” He said with a soft chuckle and smile.

You were very much aware of how serious this conversation was, truly. But, god you couldn’t stop looking at the way his dimple appeared once he smiled, the way his soft and gentle hands held your foot as if it was a piece of glass that would break at any sudden movements, the way he softly chuckled, and the sincerity behind all his words.

You knew exactly what he was talking about, you’ve been there before too. Losing a play’s script was something that you feared most. It would prove how irresponsible you were as the club leader—a title you thought you didn’t deserve in that moment.

You were thrilled after finding it once again but still worried for a moment like that to repeat. You had to be prepared, you couldn’t let your guard down.

“Me too.” You said, biting your bottom lip in hesitation. Should you be admitting to one of your most embarrassing flaws right now? Not to mention it was to someone you only spoke with recently.

It was weird.

You felt oddly close to Jay. Even if you had a few—many accidental encounters with each other, they only proceeded to build a bond you didn’t know you two had. You hoped he felt the same.

“I’ve second-guessed myself being the club leader many times. Whenever I was stressed about something and couldn’t get the club’s tasks done on time, couldn’t keep the smiles on my club members bright, and when I lost the play’s script.” You explained, causing Jay to stiffen.

It was almost like hearing the words ‘play’s script’ could flip off a switch in his body, making him malfunction. He knew he wasn’t fully in the wrong for that situation but still felt guilty.

“It was something I feared most. I hate making mistakes and losing the only copy of the play’s script made me realize how unorganized I can be. It was my fault, really, I should’ve kept it somewhere I would remember.” You elaborated.

He nodded, tight-lipped and stiffer than ever. Of course, eventually, he would have to come clean. He didn’t know how you would react to the news though, not wanting to ruin whatever bond you two had built so far. Maybe it was better this way. He was good at keeping secrets anyway, right?

“I think you should be good for a bit. Try and see if you can walk on it now.” He said while slowly slipping on your shoe.

“If it still hurts, don’t worry, I can carry you down the whole way.” He reassured you as you nodded.

Hey, if this was his only chance to be this close to you, of course, he was going to take it and use it to his extent.

Surely, you might’ve been on the same page as him, staggering over your feet after rising from your seat on the bench. Your ankle was perfectly fine, but your heart wasn’t. You didn’t want this moment to end. It was obvious you wouldn’t get another chance like this one, so, why not put up a lie to keep it going?

“I don’t think I can…” You winced, putting your acting skills to use. You weren’t the Drama Club leader for nothing. You ‘attempted’ another step, stumbling over your feet once again. Jay was quick to grab you by your arm before you had the chance to ‘fall’.

“That’s okay,” he said, secretly cheering internally. He guided you back to the bench, letting you take a seat before crouching in front of you, silently signalling for you to hop on. You bit back your smile, also cheering internally.

You were very glad that your acting worked.

You got onto his back, wrapping your arms around him the same as before. The warmth of his back engulfed your slightly cold figure as the comforting tang of detergent and his cologne filled your nostrils. You smiled, placing your chin on Jay’s shoulder. You wanted this moment to last forever and he did too.

“Hey,” you said, gaining his attention. He hummed in response, too focused on climbing the hill to catch up to the rest of your classmates.

“You said you wanted to audition, right? I don’t think you’ll be able to get a major role since it’s quite late. But, I’m sure you can become a substitute in case someone can't make it.” You explained, hoping it wasn’t too much information for him to comprehend.

He nodded, unsure of what you really said. All he could focus on was the bumpy trail ahead of him and how close your voice was to his ear. He felt his face warm up as he cleared his throat, trying to forget about the feeling.

“If you want, we could—I mean, I could help you rehearse before the final play?” You asked. An odd silence fell between you two as you bit your bottom lips out of embarrassment. You weren’t sure whether or not that was the right move.

“Sure,” he began, catching your attention.

“I’d like that.” He smiled as you smiled, fighting back the sigh of relief.

You were glad you didn’t make things awkward between you two. Jay pushed you up, adjusting his hold on you, and continuing the walk in a comfortable silence, both of your hearts beating in sync.

ACT NINE.

Jay constantly stared at his phone all practice. He had given you his number the other day, just so you two could plan out a meetup, but you haven’t texted him at all. He thought maybe you were busy or you were too nervous to do so.

This wouldn’t be the first time he had been told he was unapproachable.

Due to his calm yet serious demeanour, there were many incidents where people told him they were too scared to talk to him—his blue hair did not make it any better—even during class. Many students were afraid to be paired up with him, unaware of how sweet of a person he really was. Once they got to know him better, they stopped fearing him, but that didn’t go for students who hadn’t gotten to know him.

He sighed deeply and grabbed his packed duffle bag. It would be best to leave it alone for now. Maybe yesterday’s interaction was a fluke. He couldn’t get his hopes up in case you never texted.

“Jay,” Sohee called. Jay looked over at the boy who leaned against the pole of a net. He motioned for him to come over as Jay followed through.

“What’s up with you and Y/N?” He asked, crossing his arms in the process.

What did he mean? Nothing was up, judging by how you weren’t texting him like you said you would.

“Nothing, why?” Jay replied, more disappointed than ever. He didn’t want to say those words but had no choice.

“It’s just, that you two were all buddy-buddy with each other for the rest of P.E. class,” Sohee explained. Jay’s mouth opened and closed a few times. No response. It was true that you were pretty close yesterday, but today? Not much.

“Ah, I was just worried, that’s all…” Jay said, regretting his words right after. He was supposed to be nonchalant about it. He couldn’t let his teammates know anything about his little ‘thing’ for you.

Was it even a ‘little thing’ at this point? He didn’t know himself.

“What about her asking about an audition?” Sohee asked, causing Jay to freeze. His arm dropped to his side, grip loosening on his phone but not enough for it to fall out completely.

What did Sohee mean? Did he overhear them? Jay tried so hard to keep this a secret but was still caught in the end.

“Don’t tell me…” Sohee paused. “You were thinking of signing up weren’t you?” He asked still Jay remained silent.

He couldn’t blow his cover. Especially after all how much he tried to keep it a secret, from you, his teammates, your club members. Everyone.

“So, it is true! No wonder you’ve been acting so out of place lately.” Sohee said, pushing himself off the pole as realization hit him. Jay looked around, hoping nobody overheard whatever he was saying.

Luckily, there wasn’t anyone around—or so he thought there wasn’t.

K emerged from the storage room, making his way over to the two boys. Jay looked over, eyes slightly widening. K was the last person that Jay wanted to overhear this conversation.

“You’ve been ditching us, giving us cold shoulders, and everything for that club of freaks?” K asked, baffled.

“Fair play, leader. So much for being there for us 24/7.” He said, rolling his eyes and scoffing.

Jay gulped. Although he was mad, he was unsure of what right words to use at this moment.

“They aren’t that bad,” Jay said, hoping those words were okay.

“Yeah, because they’re terrible! Did they brainwash you or something?” K’s eyes narrowed. Jay couldn’t hold back anymore. He didn’t want things to get physical, but they could’ve.

“See, this is why I didn’t tell you guys anything. Of course, I felt terrible for taking an interest in it. I didn’t want to ‘betray’ you guys, and K only made those thoughts worse.” Jay blamed, staring at K whose jaw dropped while he pointed at himself in disbelief.

“Me?” K asked, walking towards Jay.

“I’m the one who made your thoughts worse? I was just telling you the truth and how I felt about everything.” He admitted, but his words meant nothing to Jay.

“Exactly why I couldn’t tell you guys anything, especially you, K. I’m aware I haven’t been in the right state of mind, but do I know why? Not at all.” Jay said, adjusting his backpack.

“Nothing is making sense to me anymore, do I know why? Nope. I’m just as confused as you two.” Jay’s tone was quite harsh and irritating. He was frustrated and annoyed at what K had to say, causing his own words to flow out with no hesitation.

“Whatever. Go ahead, spread the word for all I care.” Jay said with an eye roll that was mainly directed at K.

K swore he felt his eye twitch as Jay turned around, walking away. How could he end his sentence that way?

“K, loosen up,” Sohee said, placing his hand on his shoulder.

“If Jay wants to do something he can, you don’t have any say in it. You have to calm down, you’re so controlling over him. No wonder he couldn’t tell us about it.” Sohee ranted and K stood still.

He was shocked that even Sohee took Jay’s side. Of course, they were all mad at him and how he distanced himself away from the team, especially K.

Still, was he really in the wrong? K sighed, letting out a deep breath he didn’t know he had in him.

Jay walked through the school’s courtyard, eyes focused on his phone. There was still no message or call from you. Normally, you were everywhere around the school. He always managed to run into you, but today, you were nowhere to be found.

He had no clue where to look either.

He sighed, looking up from his phone, eyes meeting a sight he didn’t expect—your back facing him. He put his phone into his pocket, jogging towards you. He couldn’t lose you. It took him almost the whole day to find you anyway.

“Y/N.” Jay called, hand reaching out to yours. You stiffened at the familiar voice, pausing in your tracks. The soft gentle hold on your hand made you turn around, being met with a face you didn’t want to see.

Well, you would’ve if you didn’t find out about the news earlier.

“Finally, I found you. Is the plan from yesterday still up?” He asked, a slight smile making its way to his features. You couldn’t fall for it, especially with the way his dimple slowly appeared, you couldn’t fall for it.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, brows furrowing. You stared at Jay’s face, he seemed worried. As if he had a reason to be, he was the cause of it all. You reached for the hand that held onto yours, removing it yourself, making his furrowed brows deepen.

You turned away, taking your leave in his silence. As you walked away, the distance between you and Jay didn’t change. His constant footsteps that increased in sound as he chased after you was all that you needed to stop.

“What?” You asked, abruptly stopping and turning around, causing him to stumble over his feet.

“What do you mean, what? What’s wrong with you?” He asked, confused. Why were you suddenly giving him attitude after ignoring his concerns and leaving him hanging? Shouldn’t it be the other way around?

You stayed silent. As much as you didn’t want to face him right now, he wasn’t giving you a choice not to. So, you might as well pop the question.

“Did you really do it?”

ACT TEN.

Jay’s pencil tapped against the surface of his desk as he stared out the window. He sneezed, attracting all the attention to him.

“Bless you,” Mrs. Jang said as he sent her a sheepish smile. He whispered a soft thanks before returning his attention to the notes in front of him. He couldn’t come down with a cold, not before the team’s next game. The sudden downpour yesterday must’ve caused his little sneeze attacks. Although it was a bad rainstorm, it wasn’t as bad as his argument with you.

“Did you do it?” You asked, grip tightening on the straps of your backpack.

“Do what?” He asked, becoming more confused. You bit your bottom lips, hesitating. You didn’t want to believe whatever you were told before, but it would still be best to hear it directly from him.

“Did you take the play’s script?” You asked, looking at your shoes and then at him. He stiffened at the question. This wasn’t the first time it happened. He also stiffened during the time you mentioned your fear of losing the play script on the park bench.

The sun that shined on the two of you before, disappeared behind dark grey clouds. It was almost as if this conversation took place in a play due to the perfect timing of the rain. Jay’s eyes were wide. The thing he was afraid of most happened. He knew he should’ve told you sooner.

“So, you did? Wow—”

“I didn’t.” He interrupted you, his words coming out so suddenly. “Well, I was there, but I tried to stop them.” He explained, brows raising slightly.

“You were still part of it,” you started, brows furrowing. “Weren’t you?” You asked as he gulped.

“What’s next? Did you purposely get close to me with the hope that I wouldn’t find out about this? And if I did, did you think I would have mercy on you?” You asked, hurt at the thought.

“To be honest, I trusted you and told you about how I would feel if the play’s script ever went missing, yet you didn’t bother to speak up during that moment.” You explained, now looking at him. His mouth opened and closed constantly, but nothing came out.

“Y/N,” Jay called, softly. It was almost like he was trying to swoon you over instead of addressing your accusations. If the situation was different, it might’ve worked.

“Listen, I was going to tell you, but I couldn’t.” He said, searching your eyes for any change of emotion.

“Why didn’t you?” You asked, raising a brow at him.

“Because I didn’t want you to hate me.” Jay began.

“Plus, I already felt bad enough when you told me about the fear and stuff, I didn’t want to make anything worse.”

“You didn’t want me to hate you?” You asked, scoffing.

“You made me doubt myself as a leader for a moment, Jay. As childish as it might be, losing the script made me feel terrible. And you knew about it but didn’t bother to tell me? Do you know what spot you put yourself in?” You ranted, leaving Jay no time to answer any questions.

“Y/N,” Jay paused. He didn’t know if the words he would say next would make matters worse or better.

“I don’t know what’s happening to me. Truly, I never really cared about the Drama club or took in my team’s hatred for them. They were just… there. But once you came along, I swear my life did a whole 180.” He said, hands clenching into fists at his sides.

“Do you want me to pity you?” You asked and he shook his head fervently.

“Of course not. I’m just saying you’re always on my mind for whatever reason and I can’t even function because of that. As we grew ‘closer’ I always wanted to admit that incident, but I knew what the possible outcomes were. I never felt this way about anything, but ruining whatever we had between us made me feel as if the world was ending.” He continued as you listened.

“So, instead of speaking up. I returned the script in silence. Remember the day we ran into each other in the corridor? Yeah, I was running from Seungcheol. I know that was the wrong move and I should’ve told you instead of keeping quiet, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.” As Jay finished his sentence, droplets of rain began falling down from the grey clouds.

You stayed quiet, remembering back to the time you ran into Jay in the corridor. The way he held your hand made your heart race. You couldn’t bear with the increase in speed, so, you asked him to let go.

You knew if he didn’t, your face would’ve definitely changed shades, making your supposed crush on him quite obvious.

“Still not a smart choice.” You said before walking away as the rain became more heavier. Jay stood there in silence, staring at your back, his blue strands sticking onto his skin.

He breathed in and out, eyes slowly opening and closing as he watched you leave. He couldn’t do anything about this. It was as if everything he took an interest in or did, ruined the relationships between him and those he was close to, including you and his teammates.

You held your hand up to your chest, unsure if the racing in your heart was caused by Jay’s words or how fast you walked down the steps. You were mad at him, that was for sure, but he seemed genuine with his words and due to being the weak person you were, you would be lying if you said you didn’t fall for him even more.

Jay stood up, eyes wide, and his hands on his desk. Once again, all the attention was on him, including their teacher’s. His chair scraping on the floor was definitely the cause of that.

“Are you okay, Jay?” Mrs. Jang asked, catching him off guard.

“Huh? Oh, yeah…” He mumbled while taking his seat.

He couldn’t believe he uttered those words yesterday. He practically confessed to you and you made no reaction. Great, he embarrassed himself. Why was he so in love with you to the point where he couldn’t function straight?

“Jay,” a voice called gaining his attention. He looked up, noticing the many students who packed up their belongings and the two boys in front of him.

“Are you coming?” Eric asked, gesturing behind him with his thumb. Jay raised a brow at him, genuinely confused as to what he meant.

“...For lunch? We always eat together on the day of our games. Remember?” He elaborated, causing Jay to ‘ah’ in realization. It would be a lie if said he didn’t forget about today’s game. It was the last one of the season. He couldn’t play as sloppily as before.

He began to pack up his belongings, glancing at the two boys while doing so.

K stood beside Eric, a scowl present on his features. Clearly, he was forced to face him. The intense tension engulfed Jay as he cleared his throat, hoping it would clear the tension too. Sadly, it didn’t, but it did gain Eric’s attention.

“You’re done?” He asked and Jay nodded while swinging his backpack over a shoulder.

“Do you think Coach will let you play today?” Eric asked Jay as the three walked down the halls.

“Probably not. But, we will have to see.” Jay said with his words coming out as a sigh. K tensed beside him, quieter than ever. Usually, he would chat with them, but it was too awkward to do so.

Did he feel awkward because of yesterday’s chat? What if Jay and Sohee’s words really got to him?

“K!” Eric shouted, startling K out of his thoughts. K turned around, noticing he missed the whole entrance to the cafeteria due to his distracted thoughts.

“My bad,” he mumbled, making his way back to the two boys and then into the cafeteria without giving them another glance. Eric and Jay looked at each other and then shrugged, but before walking in, Jay spoke up.

“Wait,” he began, causing Eric to pause. “I thought you hated me? Why are you talking to me as if nothing happened?” He asked.

“Not sure, but I never hated you. Yeah, there was a moment of disappointment, but we can’t decide your choices.” Eric flashed Jay a smile before walking into the cafeteria and making his way to the team’s table. The one Jay picked out back in freshman year. Although most were mad at him, at least they didn’t switch tables.

Jay caught up with Eric as they both took their seats at the filled table. The mood wasn’t as bad as Jay intended it to be. At practice, it was awkward and heavy, but right now, it was light and comforting. Truly, he missed days like these and his best friends, especially K.

But clearly, it would take at least 1 light-year to build their previous bond again.

“So, Jay,” Sohee called, causing Jay’s eyes to shift over to the male. Jay wasn’t even aware that he was staring at K who sat opposite Jay at the table. Sohee took a bite of his food before continuing his sentence.

“Did things escalate with Y/N?” He asked. Jay’s gaze briefly shifted over to K, his tensing figure not going unnoticed by the blue-haired boy. “What do you mean?” Jay asked, his eyes now on Sohee.

“I heard she found out about the script issue…” He explained as everyone at the table looked at the two, excluding K.

“Shit, really?” Mark asked while stabbing his fork into today’s meal—pork chops. Sohee nodded at Mark’s question as K abruptly stood up, silencing Jay before he had the chance to reply. He grabbed his belongings and his untouched tray of food.

“I’m not hungry. See you guys at the game.” He said before leaving them behind. Jay watched as K walked away, not sparing a glance at the team as he exited the cafeteria.

“Ignore him. He’s been like that ever since we all found out about you and Y/N.” Heeseung reassured Jay, causing him to look back in front of him. Jay nodded, smiling awkwardly before taking another bite of his bowl of rice.

The atmosphere became quite awkward as Jay tried to avoid the question as much as possible by staying silent. It worked but ruined the comforting mood that was present earlier.

He wondered if you were still mad at him. Of course, he messed up, but he tried to stop them and still returned the script in the end. Although it took him a week to do so, he understood he should’ve confronted you about it once you two became close.

But for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He hated confrontation.

His last period wasn’t anything fun. It was just as boring as his other classes. Many classmates wished him good luck on his game while teachers excused him from their homework assignments.

“Land a big one on them!” Mr. Lee exclaimed as Jay laughed awkwardly. He left his classroom at the same time as before—2:45 PM—and made his way to his locker. He promised his teammates he wouldn’t be late this time. There was nothing to distract him from doing so too. You were absent today.

Or so he thought.

Right when he shut his locker, he saw your figure a few meters away from his. His eyes widened as you rummaged through your locker. If that was your locker, how come he’s never seen you there?

“Y/N?” Jay called, biting his lip right after. He didn’t mean for it to slip out.

You froze at the voice, pausing your movements as well. You then hurriedly grabbed your books and shut your locker while swiftly slipping on your lock before rushing away. You were avoiding him for a reason, so, why did you see him in the most unnecessary spot possible?

“Wait!” Jay exclaimed, jogging after you. You must be a fool if you thought you could escape an athlete like him. You stopped running and turned around, exhausted while Jay looked as if he didn’t move an inch.

Wow, he was lucky.

“What?” You asked in a bitter tone. Jay looked at his phone, the clock reading 2:47 PM.

“I have three minutes to do this, so please don’t interrupt me” He pleaded as you stared at him. Although you showcased that you were unamused, you secretly were.

“I’m sorry.” Jay began with a sigh.

“I understand what I’ve done wrong. Even if I tried to stop them and returned the script, it can’t excuse my mistake, okay? I’m sorry if you felt as if I was taking advantage of you. I swear I wasn’t.” He explained as every word that escaped his mouth lingered with sympathy.

“I believe you’re an amazing leader and that you should never doubt yourself, especially over a mistake like that one. It happens to the best of us.”

“Don’t forgive me, it’s fine. We can restart whenever you’re ready.” He finished off with a slight smile, checking his phone once more. There was only a minute left to hear your response.

“So, what do you say?” He asked, a little panicky. You sighed while shaking your head.

“You make it really hard to stay mad at you, you know? Why do your words have to be so heartfelt and picked out oh so carefully?” You said as a smile made its way to his face again.

“I forgive you, but that doesn’t mean I won’t hold that mistake against you. One more mistake and whatever this is will end.” You warned while motioning between you both. He nodded and chuckled.

You were well aware of his feelings for you. Yesterday’s argument was enough to confirm that he supposedly felt the same way you did. The only difference was, he didn’t know you felt the same way. Hopefully, he could find out before another mistake was made.

“You’re going to be late, go to your match. You need to at least warm up.” You ushered him down the hallway towards the gymnasium and waved him goodbye as he did the same.

Now that everything was cleared up between you two, he would definitely do better in this match.

ACT ELEVEN.

“Starters for today, Ricky, Mark, Sohee, Jisung, and Jake.” Their coach said, causing the team to gasp.

“What about K, Jay, and Eric?” Asked Jisung. He looked at the three who sat on the bench quieter than ever. This was the first time their coach had ever done this, of course, everyone was shocked.

“You guys will be fine. Today’s team isn’t that difficult, so let’s preserve their energy until it is needed.” He explained while marking something off on his clipboard.

“Jay, are you in proper condition to play today?” He asked while making his way over to the boy. Jay looked up from his shoes and nodded at their coach's words. Their coach smiled, checking something off once again.

“Perfect,” he began.

“Okay, go out there and play well.” He said to the teammates who were said to play first. They followed through with his instructions and made their way to the court. Although there wasn’t any backup with their three-star players, they still had hope they could win.

Chemistry was all their team needed to win. So, K and Jay better make up before they had to step foot on the court.

Jay held out his fist that hid a wrapped-up peppermint in front of K’s view. K looked up from the ground at Jay’s hand and then his eyes shifted over to Jay who sat beside him. Jay opened his hand, revealing the peppermint to K.

“What?” K asked, staring at the sweet confused. Jay ushered him to take it as he followed through.

“Good, now eat it,” Jay ordered as K’s brows furrowed. “Did you poison it or something? I wouldn’t be shocked if you did, I’ve been an ass lately.” K said while hesitating to unravel the sweet.

Jay chuckled while looking at the players on the court getting into position. “At least you’re self-aware, but I have been one too. Still, I wouldn’t poison anything.” He said, rubbing his hands together.

“Listen, when we go on the court, we need to at least work together,” Jay explained, gaining K’s attention.

“Just because we had multiple arguments and not the best friendship lately doesn’t mean we can let our team lose, and that doesn’t mean I fully forgive you.”

“I would take your advice for yourself if I were you,” K said, referring to the last time Jay played on the court. Jay sent him a glare.

“I’m in a good mood right now, do not blow it,” Jay warned while pointing at him which only made K burst out laughing.

“Anyways, I wouldn’t dare to let our team lose. Glad, you’re finally acting like the team’s captain.” K teased as Jay softly punched him in the gut. K winced in pain as Jay playfully rolled his eyes and continued watching the game.

Jisung had the ball, tossing it up in the air as it made its way into the net. An easy 3-pointer only a minute into the game was all they needed to kickstart their desire to win.

Perfect.

Eventually, Jay, K, and Eric were subbed in for the last two quarters. The new lineup included the three boys and Mark who seemed to be in great shape even after 24 minutes of playing.

His stamina was insane.

“Focus,” Jay said from his spot in the key, turning his head to Mark across from him.

“Don’t beat yourself up if you’re tired. Just ask Coach to sub you off, okay?” He reassured the boy as Mark nodded.

The referee blew his whistle, passing the ball to the opposing team’s side. It was their ball when the second quarter ended anyway.

Decelis’ boys were now spaced out on the court, guarding their opponents. The points were at a good distance with Jay’s team being at 36 and the other team being at 24. Still, there was no knowing when they’d catch up.

It could happen at any time.

The referee blew his whistle again as the opposing team inbounded their ball. Mark failed to block his opponent as they ran down the court to their goal, it was obvious he was soon going to reach his limit.

Mark’s opponent passed the ball toward the player K was guarding—a rookie mistake. Never pass the ball if K was around.

With that said, K caught the ball, shocking the opponent behind him. He dribbled the ball, dashing to the other side of the court as his teammates followed behind him.

He paused at the three-point line, looking around for an open teammate. Mark was busy trying to get free from his defender and Jay did the same.

Eric sprinted towards K’s spot with his blocker trailing behind him. Once Eric was practically beside K, they did a quick handoff, leaving Eric with no other option but to dribble toward the net and perform a neat lay-up.

“Nice!” K exclaimed, high-fiving Eric as they both jogged towards the half point of the court. The boys were all beaming with satisfaction as all of their eyes held an intense desire to win.

A few points into the third quarter, Mark asked their coach to sub him out for Heeseung. It was obvious how exhausted he was, but nobody blamed him.

He played amazingly anyway.

The current score read 54-40. Clearly, they were catching up, but Decelis was still far ahead.

“I can’t believe you managed to convince me to come watch,” Kazuha said with her arm interlocked with yours as you guys walked through the bleachers.

“It’ll be fun. Maybe you’ll learn not to hate them as much.” You explained as you both took a seat in front.

“I hate being surrounded by basketball fans. They’re all sweaty and smelly, especially that one.” Kazuha said while pointing at K. You swatted at her hand, forcing her to lower it from the impact as K sent you guys a glare. Kazuha raised her fist and mouthed a curse word at his angry face as you laughed.

Was she really loud or was his hearing just really good?

Your eyes attentively watched Jay who wiped at the sweat that dribbled down his jawline. The gaze he held was the same gaze from the day you two finally spoke after two years. You will never forget that P.E. class.

He was very different than how he was off the court. Off the court, he’s a cold guy who is really clumsy while on the court, he seems unapproachable. It would be like having a death wish if you wanted to talk to him.

“Y/N,” Kazuha started while watching your eyes beam at the sight of Jay playing.

“You like him, don’t you?”

“What?” You asked, chuckling nervously.

“Do you like their team captain? You won’t take your eyes off of him even while talking to me.” Kazuha explained as you turned to look at her.

“Here, I’m looking.” You said as she smirked and pointed at you. “You’re blushing. You do like him!” She exclaimed as your eyes widened. You covered your cheeks with your hands while swatting at her teasing finger.

“Enough!” You whisper-shouted not wanting to attract any more attention to you two, but failed. Jay’s eyes were already on you as a silly smile made its way to his face.

The sight he saw answered all his questions. It was an obvious one, yet he denied it continuously. There was only one reason why you were always on his mind.

He was definitely in love with you.

The next day, the game was all everyone spoke about. The winning shot performed by K and Jay would definitely go down in Decelis's history. Jay threw the ball into the air as K came out of nowhere, dunking it into the hoop, the buzzer going off right after.

Everyone including their opposing team was shocked. No wonder they were part of the ‘star-players lineup’.

Slowly, K and Jay’s friendship began to be restored. Even if they were becoming friends again, the incidents from before weren’t forgotten, and K was very aware of that. It’ll take quite a while to make up for the things he has said and done.

“Wow, they weren’t playing,” Eric joked while eyeing K’s decorated locker.

“Ours must be worse…” Eric mumbled internally filled with excitement. He wondered what his locker looked like.

“They got you too,” K said pointing at Jay’s locker down the hall, “And Jisung.” K chuckled.

Their school must love them a lot to take time out of their day to decorate. It did make sense to do so, they won the whole season.

Eric boasted about a game he played when they got home yesterday. Even after the exhausting match, he still had enough energy to check out his favourite game’s new update.

To Jay, it felt nice to be included in things like this again. There were no more nasty glares being sent his way as he watched from afar. Things were slowly starting to go back to normal.

“Jay, your phone’s ringing,” Eric said, pausing his conversation topic. Jay looked at the boy confused then down at his vibrating pocket.

He removed his phone from his pocket, eyeing the contact name with wide eyes. “I’ll be back,” Jay said before walking away from his friends and picking up the phone.

He stood in front of his locker, leaning against the decorations.

“Hey.” Jay greeted, waiting for a response back. He slowly became anxious at the quietness. Did you

“Hey.” You greeted on the other line, causing Jay’s heart to flutter. He mentally cursed at his heart, hoping the beating would slow, but it didn’t.

“So… I was wondering if that deal was still up?”

“Yeah, of course,” he said, “I mean, as long as you’re free!” Jay exclaimed. He didn’t want his words to sound forceful.

You smiled at his words, writing down some words in your notebook. “Anything is fine with me. I’m free tomorrow… How about 12 PM?” You asked while clicking your pen shut.

It was a Saturday after all. What plans did Jay really have on a Saturday?

He hummed in agreement, turning around to unlock his locker with a smile. K and Eric grimaced at the sight as K shut his locker closed.

“Who has him smiling like a dork…?” K asked, brows furrowing. He’s never seen their captain like this before.

“I wonder…” Eric muttered, mirroring the exact expression as K.

They both paused, looking over at each other with slightly wide eyes, “Y/N.”

ACT TWELVE.

Jay rocked back and forth on the soles of his feet anxiously. The clock read 11:55 AM, 5 minutes before the two were supposed to meet. He was a punctual person, of course, he wasn’t early on purpose…

“Jay!” Your voice brought him out of his thoughts as his eyes looked in your direction quickly. You were smiling at him.

At him.

“Wow, you look happy.” He teased while making his way towards you. You were smiling from ear to ear because you were finally able to hang out with him, of course, you were happy.

“I received great news.” You cheered, clasping your hands together. He stared at you a slight smile on his own features with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his sweater as he teasingly raised a brow.

“Which is?” He asked.

“I was chosen to be this year’s valedictorian!” You said, your smile growing even more. Jay’s eyes widened in shock.

That was truly great news.

“Really? That’s great, Y/N.” He smiled with that dimple you hated oh so much showing. You hated how it made your face warm and butterflies in your stomach swarm.

But wait… Valedictorian?

“Wait, graduation is in a month, right?” He asked, the thought of this being his final year completely forgotten. You nodded at his question, confused yourself.

“Did you forget?”

“...Yeah.” He mumbled in embarrassment. You laughed at his sheepishness, waving your hand in the air.

“That’s fine. It happens, honestly. Anyway, our play is in a week. Everyone has been practicing like crazy, I don’t think anyone won’t be able to make it, but we can still practice if you want.” You said, playing with the felt of your clothes.

Jay nodded. Anything was fine with him. Although he really wanted to participate in your club’s play previously, due to all the commotion that happened within these two months, he wasn’t sure if he felt the same way.

He was still glad he met you at least.

You two strolled through the garden you suggested as the meeting place. This was a good way to clear your mind and prepare yourselves for the script reading.

The garden was a very pretty sight. You pulled out your phone, positioning your camera in front of any pretty flower you crouched before.

“It’s pretty, right?” You asked, eyeing the pink flower in front of you.

A Hibiscus.

“Yes, it’s very pretty,” Jay replied, crouching behind you, “Just like you.” He whispered, startling you.

Immediately, you turned around, flinching and falling backwards due to how close he was. His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you back up before you could fall into the field of flowers.

You both stared into each other’s eyes as the wind rustled through the pedals on every flower in the field. You cleared your throat as Jay’s arm unravelled from your waist, but you caught your balance before you could fall over.

“My bad, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He apologized while standing up. You shook your head, trying to shake away the butterflies as well.

“It’s okay.” You muttered, eyes going back to your phone. The photo you took by accident was blurry and was most likely taken when you were falling. You couldn’t recognize anything aside from the vibrant pink blur.

You swiped backwards, satisfied with this photo instead. It showed the flowers, picking up the different shades of pink and the fading droplets of water. Jay looked around in an attempt to distract himself from the encounter from earlier.

It was a mistake, he swore it was, yet part of him wanted it to happen again.

“Do you want to get something to eat? I’m pretty sure there’s a cafe nearby. We can read over the script there.” You suggested, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“Ah, sure, why not.” He said, giving you an awkward smile. You stood up, dusting off your pants as Jay did the same. He stuffed his hands back in his pockets and followed you out of the field of flowers.

The walkout was silent. A little too silent for Jay’s liking.

“To be honest,” he started, gaining your attention. You hummed in response, eyes examining any flowers in your sight.

“You’re as beautiful as an orange flower,” he said, “If you were in a garden, I would definitely choose you first.”

You laughed at his words, thinking they were silly even if they made you flustered.

“I’m serious.”

You paused and turned around to face him, causing him to stop in his tracks.

“Why an orange flower? What about blue flowers?” You asked, genuinely curious. Was orange his favourite colour or something? If it was… wouldn’t he have dyed his hair orange instead of blue?

“Because,” he began, “It’s scientifically proven that orange is an eye-catching colour. To prove my point, you caught my eye that same day in P.E. class.”

Your eyes slightly widened at his sudden confession, but you then regained your composure. A sly smile made its way onto your features as you looked at Jay with narrowed eyes.

“Are you confessing to me again?” You asked and he nodded. Without hesitation, he nodded.

“You didn’t say anything to the first one…” He explained as you shook your head. It’s not that you didn’t say anything. You just didn’t know how to formulate words at that exact moment. You grabbed his hand, interlocking it with yours and dragged him towards the entrance at a faster pace.

“Let’s make a deal.” You said once you reached the arched entry. “Can you wait an extra month?” You asked as his brows furrowed.

“A month? What for?” He asked, leaving your question unanswered.

“Yes or no?” You asked, this time leaving his question unanswered.

Jay hesitated. He didn’t want to choose the wrong answer. This only reminded him of the time K and Eric dragged him to the club room—the start of everything. Back then, he regretted agreeing with the boys and he worried if that would happen with you. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to take a risk, right?

“Yes.” He said as you smiled in return.

“Good.”

ACT THIRTEEN.

The final month of being a senior went by faster than Jay expected. Ever since that day you and Jay hung out, you never brought up your question. He still had no clue what you meant by waiting a month, but he did it anyway.

There were many moments where he uttered the words ‘I love you’ or complimented you numerous times. He didn’t have anything to hide anymore, right? You knew he loved you and he made sure you did almost every single day.

That didn’t mean you said the three words back to him. You never did. Although it bothered him a little bit and caused him to doubt if what he was doing was right, you always managed to make him fall head over heels for you all over again.

Here he was, standing on stage with his coach and principal who presented him with the scholarship he waited his whole life for. He didn’t start playing basketball at the age of 7 for nothing.

As he listened to the principal speak, he was reminded of his freshman days. It felt like he was filling out that scholarship form just yesterday. It was still shocking that this was his last day in Decelis.

“Thank you,” he said while bowing and smiling at his principal as he took the envelope in hand. He then turned to look at his coach who seemed more emotional than ever, leaving Jay baffled.

“Shouldn’t I be the emotional one?” Jay asked while walking off the stage with his coach.

“There’s just something in my eye.” He said.

What a lie. Nobody would believe that one.

Jay scoffed and shook his head as he made his way back to his seat. He was congratulated by a few classmates on his way there, stopping a few times to high-five some of them. There was a bright smile on his face, feeling satisfied that he finally accomplished his dream.

Younghoon gave Jay a proud pat on the back from his seat behind Jay, feeling like a proud dad. It was something he always did when he felt proud of Jay.

“Now, please welcome this year’s valedictorian, L/N Y/N.” The school’s principal announced through the mic as you rose from your seat, making your way to the stage.

As you walked past Jay’s seat, you glanced over at him flashing him a smile as he did the same.

You adjusted the mic, levelling it to your desire, and turning it on in the process. You flipped through the script on the podium, finding your speech that you’ve practiced a ton of times.

“Good evening, staff, my fellow seniors, and most importantly, family members.” You began, gripping the sides of the podium as a smile made its way to your face.

“I’m L/N Y/N, your valedictorian for this ceremony. First, I want to start by congratulating this year’s graduating class. Time flew by faster than we all expected, right? To me, it still feels like I was preparing for my first day as a freshman in Decelis just yesterday, worrying about what I should wear even if this is a uniform school.” You joked, making a few students hum in agreement and laugh at your words as Jay watched with an adoring smile.

“I know how much it may hurt to say goodbye to those you adored, but take this as an opportunity to branch out and explore new things. I had an amazing time with this school’s Drama Club and enjoyed being the leader. It taught me a lot more than I intended to learn.” You said, gaze shifting to Jay.

“It taught me how fun taking risks and stepping out of your comfort zone can be. How fun exploring the personalities of others can be even while going against the established yet unconfirmed rule that says you must hate each other.”

It was obvious that you were referring to the Drama club and Basketball team rivalry and the unsaid person was obviously Jay. Who else broke that unconfirmed rule with you?

“The events that occurred this year really brought me an enjoyable and exciting final year of high school, so I’m very grateful for it.” You finished off your speech with a closing sentence that thanked everyone for coming and wished all the graduating students the best of luck for their future.

Soon after your speech, all students received their diplomas and medals, meaning they were no longer high school students.

You and Jay were no longer the leaders of the Drama club and Basketball team or classmates from P.E. class.

“You were great.” Jay complimented you after finding you in the school’s courtyard. You turned around, smiling at his words.

“Congrats on the scholarship!” You cheered, a smile appearing on his face. Before he could reply, you were already dragging him by the hand through the crowds of people, and running towards the steps you guys last argued on.

“What are we doing here?” He asked, looking around, noticing how nobody was there. They were all taking pictures to reminisce about the moment a few years later.

“So—”

He was silenced by the sudden kiss planted on his cheek, causing him to look at you faster than ever. His eyes were wide open and his mouth was slightly agape at the sudden movement. You looked into his wide eyes with your curious ones.

“What was that about?” He asked in utter shock.

“I love you,” you confessed, his wide eyes becoming even wider. He blinked continuously, thinking this was all a dream.

“What?” You asked, tilting your head to the side.

“Am I going crazy, or did you really say I love you?” He asked as your eyes widened.

“You must be going crazy. I said no such thing.” You lied, putting on your best poker face. Your hand removed his cap, feeling his forehead temperature to complete the act.

“Your temperature is fine though… Did you not sleep enough?” You asked, concerned. You loved being able to pull these types of tricks on him. His reactions were always cute to you.

“I’m kidding, I did.” You said, smiling. You couldn’t keep up the lie anymore, especially with this way his brows furrowed in disappointment.

“It has been a month. I waited it out until today. I didn’t want to interrupt our studies if we ever started anything, you know,” you said while letting go of his hand, “And it would’ve been a mistake if I didn’t confess the same place you first did.” You said while looking around the area you stood in.

It really was your last time walking down these steps.

Out of nowhere, your face was cupped by slightly rough hands that brought warmth to your cheek, turning your head to face Jay’s direction. You had no time to register anything, his soft lips on yours.

Although you weren’t prepared, you still sunk into the kiss, but Jay pulled away before anything could escalate. His hands still cupped your face as you both looked into each other’s eyes, ‘sneaking’ small glances at each other’s lips.

“I love you too.” He said, his words filled with genuine adoration.

“Cool,” you muttered in disappointment. It was too short for your liking. Jay was shocked, wondering why you didn’t say it back. He waited so long just for you to say it once?

“I love you too, okay? Stop overthinking it.” You said, playfully rolling your eyes. His facial expression made it quite obvious as to what he was thinking.

“Now, come here.” You said, pulling him into another kiss while dropping his cap on the concrete ground beside him. Luckily, this one lasted much longer than before.

Even if he didn’t participate in anything related to the Drama club, he still got himself involved with one of their members, right?

That should at least count.

Ξ © HAKNOM, 2024

774 notes · View notes

sohnric · 5 months

Text

to. my first – k. sunwoo

pairing: kim sunwoo x fem! reader

genre: 90s au. twenty-five twenty-one au, friends to lovers au, exes to lovers au. fluff, slice of life, coming of age, suggestive. highschool au, football player! sunwoo, baker! sunwoo. cheerleader! reader. first love au. what we call wet cat sunwoo. meeting your ex after years and falling back in love with him kind of thing.

warnings: alcohol, throwing up, swearing, reader has hair long enough for a ponytail, a heated make out session or two that alludes to them having sex but no actual smut happens, finger sucking, the reader moping around a lot, no plot just vibes.

word count: 31k

a/n: inspired by me telling @/csenke that sunwoo is my first love. why am i so soft for this man i truly dont know... thank you best friend for betaing this monster i appreciate it a LOT! also thank you to sana @/heemingyu and izzy @/from-izzy for the help on some parts of the fic and brainstorming the ending w me, as well as beta reading small parts of this.

spin-off to my fic millennium bug because sunwoo deserves love too! the reader from eric's fic is referenced to as MB!Y/N in this. you don't have to read the first fic to understand this one, but there are a lot of references in this and i highly encourage you to do so!

they say you never forget about your first love. you guess that's true. (or– a story about reckless love, first kisses, growing up, ambition, and inevitably, failure.)

August 2007

The laughter all around is electric. The music playing in the background makes you sway and hum to the melody, the familiar tunes making your insides light up with a different sense of nostalgia when you remember the times in which these songs were popular. Your tired limbs make you cut your way through the room and sit down on a vacant chair, not really caring about where your designated seat was anymore, just needing to rest for a second before you either throw up from exhaustion or faint from how tired your legs are from all the dancing. Paying a quick goodbye to Juyeon on the dance floor, you heave out a satisfied sigh when your bottom meets the cushioned seat of the chair, eyes zeroing on the filled dance floor.

Feeling a cramp in your foot, you scowl and lean down, ready to do the thing you’ve been desiring for at least the last three hours– if not the whole day. Hands playing with the strap on your heel, you make the shoe come undone before you slip the uncomfortable footwear off your feet, relaxing when your naked limbs meet with the cold tile on the floor.

You don’t really know who in their right mind would have a wedding in the middle of the summer heat, but you guess there are people that are out of their mind like that– and those people are your friends from high school.

Everything about coming back to your hometown has made you feel unpleasantly nostalgic so far– the streets haven’t changed a bit, your childhood home still looks just the same, furniture unmoved, and the air is still as crisp, yet humid as it always was during late August. It’s only tonight that finally makes the weird bittersweetness turn into joy. You’re back home with everyone you’ve ever known, with everyone who’s made you into who you are today. You’re seeing all their faces for the first time in ages– and frankly, it does feel good.

The satisfaction in your veins stays for a bit until a figure dressed in a suit comes into your point of view. It’s not like you’re seeing him for the first time tonight– he’s a big character, even when it comes to this wedding, so it’s hard to not notice him– but as his legs take him towards you in a wobbly nature, it dawns on you that now is maybe finally the time you get to talk to him. Don’t get me wrong– there are no hard feelings between the two of you (or at least you don’t have any, you’re not so sure about his side of the story). It’s just that seeing him dressed in a tux, tie now a little loose around his neck, the twinkle in his eye still present as back when you were both a lot younger, there’s still a strong aftertaste of your feelings towards him somewhere on the tip of your tongue.

His walk is a little lopsided as he grins at you and takes a seat on the vacant chair next to yours, a huff of air escaping his lungs as his body relaxes, limbs falling freely down the sides of his chair. His cheeks are a little red and his hair a little messy– there’s only so much to explain his composure apart from all the dancing he’s done.

“So I see that you still can’t handle your liquor well even after all those years?” you joke, making the boy turn his head to face you, an amused twinkle appearing in his smile.

His eyes are still the same chocolate orbs you know, still the same soft look adorning them whenever he feels particularly ecstatic. He shrugs, jolting his bottom lip out before he sighs to himself. “Well, it’s not every day you are the best man at your best friend’s and your sister’s wedding,” he muses, shrugging.

Laughing at his remark, once again taking in the state of the room– Juyeon, Hyunjae and Haknyeon each dancing somewhere in the middle of the dance floor, MB!Y/N’s friends from university twirling her around in the right corner, Eric staring at the bride with a warm gaze in his eyes, sipping on a drink while resting against one of the tables, clearly taking a mental image to look at every time he feels the need to– it all feels kind of surreal. Who would’ve thought all those years ago that it would end like this?

Well, Eric Sohn, for starters. He confessed to everyone in his wedding speech that he knew he wanted to marry MB!Y/N the moment she kissed him on New Year’s Eve of 1999– him being this cheesy was only acceptable because it was his own wedding. In any other circumstance, Sunwoo wouldn’t be able to let his best friend live this down.

It’s not like you ever expected those two to break up– it just makes you a little in awe at how fast time is passing. “It’s kinda crazy, isn’t it?” you hum, squinting at the flood of people on the dance floor.

“It is,” Sunwoo hums, tonguing the inside of his cheek, “still can’t believe they’re dating. Hell, they’re getting married right now…”

“You can’t believe your sister is dating your best friend?” you laugh, wiping the sweat that’s accumulated off your forehead, the mist appearing there both because of your reckless dancing and because of the unbearable heat of the August night.

“That, and also the other way around,” he hisses, “but I guess they’re both so insufferable that they go well together, so I don’t know why I’m still so surprised.”

Chuckling at his comment– you guess the bond he has with his sister is never to be changed, no matter how many years have passed– you watch as he shrugs off his suit jacket and throws it over the back of his chair, starting to roll up his sleeves to expose his forearms. Eyes following his motions, you clear your throat and force yourself to look back into his eyes when he asks you a question. “What about you, though? Are you enjoying yourself?”

“I am,” you nod, no hesitation, “it’s really nice to see all of you after so long. Plus, I’m having a lot of fun, so that’s a nice bonus."

“I can see that,” he grins, “by the way you sat on my seat just now, and all–”

“Oh god– I’m sorry,” you gasp, suddenly feeling a little silly. And here you thought he went up to you because he wanted to catch up… “I’ll move, if–”

The sound of Sunwoo’s hearty laugh lands into your ear– it’s just the same as it was back when you were both high schoolers, making your heart soar– before he shakes his head and urges you to stay with a motion of his hand, putting his large palm on your thigh to keep you from moving. “No, no, don’t be stupid,” he says, “I don’t mind. I was looking for you anyway, so you just made it easier for me by sitting here, actually.”

He was looking for you, resonates in your head, the familiar buzzing in your fingertips alerting you of the effect he has on you even tonight. God, maybe you were the one that had too much to drink…

“You were?” you ask, tone of voice light– not at all suspicious.

Sunwoo nods, shrugging. “Well, I guess we have a lot of catching up to do,” he smiles, “don’t we?”

Eyes meeting his, the contact feels electrifying to the point it makes your head spin when you look at him, taking in his glossy eyes and the flush of his cheeks. They’re less round than when you two were young, but his eyes still stay the same– big, round and tender.

He reminds you a lot of the time when you saw him drunk for the first time.

to. my first time getting drunk

April 1999

Havoc rings in his ears like jingle bells, the world around him spinning like he’s on a rollercoaster. His head feels like someone is installing a nail to the middle of his skull and when he looks around, Lee Donghyuck is staring at him with a glass bottle of soju in his hand, urging him to drink more.

Sunwoo doesn’t have it in him to do much else other than shake his head. It feels like he forgot all his vocabulary, not a single word coming out of his mouth or to the awake parts of his brain, watery eyes begging his classmate to not make him drink any more.

What seemed like a good idea just a few moments ago– see, it’s prohibited to drink on school trips, but Kim Sunwoo is infamous for loving to break the rules– now seems like the worst idea of his whole entire life. He feels so sick he thinks he’s going to die of alcohol poisoning, but the laughter around keeps painfully reminding him that he hasn’t even had that much to drink in the first place. The amount of times he’s been called a lightweight this night is making his pride severely hurt, and even graciously intoxicated, he can’t bear the sting this is putting on his already hurt ego.

“Come on, birthday boy! I’m sure you can handle one more,” Donghyuck urges, uncurling Sunwoo’s fist and placing the bottle into his grasp, making the poor boy wince and battle back tears.

He knows he’s being embarrassing. The choice between not dying and not humiliating himself is rather a difficult one, but the moment he finally finishes the crossword puzzle in his brain and puts the glass opening against his lips, the bottle is thankfully taken out of his grasp and discarded somewhere where his eyes can’t reach.

“You’re done for the night, Kim Sunwoo,” you haul at him, shaking your head at the poor boy, “you’re done.”

Sunwoo wants to open his mouth and protest, maybe ask you what you mean, but the moment his lips unseal, he gets a sniff of the alcohol in the air and suddenly, he feels like throwing up. Your eyes lock with his, a pleading– maybe a warning– mirrors in Sunwoo’s gaze, and even though he’s so drunk he feels like he crossed dimensions, he applauds your ability to know just what he means by a single look into his eyes.

“Oh, Christ–” you curse, hurried steps moving to the corner of the room, swiftly grabbing the trash can and running back towards your friend sitting criss-cross applesauce on the floor.

You make it just in time to catch the contains of Sunwoo’s stomach into the trash can, making the boy insanely grateful– he’s wearing the new shoes his mum got him for his birthday, and god knows he’d hate it if he ruined them the very first day he can show them off to his football friends.

The whole world disappears into the background as he throws up while making a mental promise to himself to never drink again. The only thing keeping him from losing it all is the feeling of your hand on his back, comforting rubs grounding him back to earth. Giggles fill his ears and he’s sure everyone’s laughing at him– even in his drunken state, he can recognise the shame filling his veins– but before he can open his mouth to argue with his classmates, the sound of your angry voice makes him seal his lips close and listen to the scolding you offer to his teammates for making him drink so much.

“You know he has a weak stomach, Donghyuck!” you huff and puff, your hand still drawing comforting circles to Sunwoo’s back as his head stays stuck in the bucket, not having enough energy to even straighten his spine.

“It’s his birthday! Come on, don’t be so tight-arsed.”

“Well, do you want him to die on his day of birth? That’s not very cool of you,” you growl, the shuffle of your clothing and a pained “ow” escaping his friend’s lips hinting to Sunwoo that you just kicked the right wing to his shin.

Deserved, Sunwoo thinks.

“Can somebody get Eric? I’m pretty sure he’s in Daehwi’s room with MB!Y/N, Minjeong and Jihoon,” you hum, waiting for anyone to follow your orders.

Sunwoo blinks in and out of it, his consciousness giving up on him with the incredible pain in his temples. He feels incredibly grateful to have someone like you by his side not only now, but all the time. The two of you have gotten incredibly closer ever since he joined the football team– and with you being one of the cheerleaders, you’re always somehow around. Not that he’s complaining, of course. It seems like you are one of the more responsible ones in this room right now, and god knows Sunwoo needs a bit of guidance on his day to day ventures.

“Do you think you’ll be sick again?” you ask, voice soft in his ear. “Or can I take the trash can off you now?”

Sunwoo thinks for a bit, then he nods and lets go of the plastic bucket. He doesn’t know what happens to it after and nor does he care– it seems like the alcohol in his veins took away all his sense of object permanence. He can barely see anything in the yellow lights of the room (which makes him believe he is going blind from all the alcohol he’s had– don’t tell him it’s just his eyes getting hazy and confused with how much his head is spinning), but he’s sure he can feel you wiping his tear-stained cheeks (he wasn’t crying– his eyes were just watering) and pulling him closer to you when he threatens to fall over even in his seated position. Your hand comes up to play with his hair when you let him rest his head against your shoulder, your actions making him sleepy, eyes closing on themselves like a threat for him to fall asleep any second.

Something about the care, the loyal protectiveness you take over the boy makes his heart soften. He breaths in your scent, trying his hardest to focus on your presence and not the weird feeling in his stomach– although it’s settled a bit since he threw up, it’s still a little uneasy– and before he knows it, there’s a tap on his shoulder waking him up from the haze.

Sunwoo mourns, not really wanting to move from his position, too comfortable with your fingers threading through his hair– but much to his dismay, your soft voice appears in his ear, telling him he has to get up. “Can you walk on your own? We’re gonna get you back to your room,” you hum, your lips accidentally brushing against the shell of his ear, making everything in him light on fire. He’s not really sure if this is the effect alcohol has on you, but if it is, he’s certain he never wants to drink again.

“Sunwoo?” you call, the way you say his name suddenly all too angelic in his ears– but still not enough for him to answer. “Alright,” you sigh after the dreadful silence, taking charge of the situation, moving away from the boy and offering him your hands to hold on to as you try to get him on his feet, “I guess we’re gonna find out.”

His fingers intertwine with yours as he stares up at you, his vision blurry, but still sharp enough to make out your tired face. The sight is enough to make Sunwoo worry– is he being too much? Are you mad at him? Do you not want to be his friend anymore? – but before he has a chance to address any of those concerns, he’s being tugged up to his feet. Not ready for the weight of his own body, his knees buckle and refuse to work. There is a pair of hands clutching his arm automatically– yours– as another pair holds him up from behind by his waist.

He’s not really sure who was his other savior, but by the silent curse heard from behind, he thinks he recognises Eric’s voice.

“I know I shouldn’t have left him alone,” he hears his best friend say, voice full of frustration.

“You really shouldn’t have,” he hears you sigh, making the poor boy scowl.

It still feels like he can’t really speak, exhaustion taking a toll on him, but he follows the orders as you tell him to get on his best friend’s back– Eric’s crouching figure ready for the impact, waiting for the taller one to clutch onto him so he can carry him into the safety of their shared room. The operation has to be quick if they don’t want to be caught by their teachers while walking through the hall, and somehow, in the distant crevices of his brain, Sunwoo recognises that and he makes no battle to resist, doing exactly as he’s told.

“Man, you’re heavy,” he hears Eric huff under him as the poor boy carries him through the hall. “You’re gonna have a killer hangover tomorrow, dude…”

Sunwoo’s head rests against his friend’s shoulder, hands carelessly hanging around Eric’s neck. He tries to blink away the sleep, desiring to stay awake, when your concerned face appears in his vision and suddenly, he feels insanely guilty.

“I’m sorry,” the two words escape his mouth with no trouble– the first words to appear in his vocabulary after the few minutes of him being surprisingly mute– only to hear his friend chuckle.

“Well, you’re going to be dying from a headache tomorrow, not us,” Eric hums, “so I think you have to apologize to future you first.”

Sunwoo pouts, bangs falling into his eyes making him blink in a desperate try to get the stray hairs away, attempting to make eye contact with your side profile. “Are you mad at me?” he asks, voice a little groggy from all the screaming and drinking.

“What?” you ask, genuinely surprised to hear his question. Your face morphs into a confused expression, the one where a wrinkle appears in between your brows– and it takes everything in Sunwoo not to poke the little line with his pointer finger in utter endearance.

“Are you… mad…?” he asks again, watching as your face morphs into amusement.

“No,” you shake your head, a hint of a laugh in your tone. “Why?”

“You look grumpy.”

“I’m just worried,” you note.

“About?” Sunwoo asks, his intelligence morphing into a one of a 10-year old with the influence the alcohol has on him.

“You,” you say, sighing and shaking your head as you move two steps in front of Eric and open the door to their room, closing it swiftly behind you and following the duo towards Sunwoo’s bed.

The younger one drops the boy into the cushions of his bed with an exaggerated sigh (that might as well be real, for all we know– god knows you wouldn’t be able to carry Sunwoo on your own), and the comfort of the pillow around his head is enough to make Sunwoo’s eyes start closing again, sleep threatening to take over his consciousness.

There’s some noise interrupting his sleep, though, making the boy tear his tired eyes open to notice you walking through the room. Sunwoo finds Eric putting a glass of water onto his bedside table and watches as you put a trash can beside his bed, hushed whispers sent Eric’s way resonating in the quiet room. “Make sure that he sleeps on his side so if he throws up again, he doesn’t choke–”

“Y/N?” he calls your name, watching as you look at him with careful eyes.

“Hm?”

“Are you leaving?” he asks, maybe a little foolishly.

“Yes.”

The boy nods at your reaction, showing his acknowledgement. In the drunken state of his mind, he knows he doesn’t particularly want you to leave, but he’s also fairly certain, finding the rational thought in the sober part of his brain, that you have to leave, and so he lets it go. The drunken state of his mind wins, though, when the next sentence foolishly escapes his lips.

“Please don’t stop liking me after this,” he mumbles, words slurring.

“What?” you ask– confused because you either don’t fully comprehend what he’s trying to say, or because you truly just couldn’t hear what words escaped his mouth– but when you don’t get a clarification, you just nod at the boy, seemingly desperate to keep him happy tonight. “Okay, I won’t.”

“You won’t stop liking me?” he asks, a big pout playing with his features.

“No.”

“Okay.”

That seems to put his mind at ease– enough to make his brain finally turn off and lead him to sleep. He doesn’t really remember what he dreamt of that night, but the last memory he has of the night of his 18th birthday is that you promised to not stop liking him after seeing him a drunken mess, and how he so deeply wished you’ll continue to like him forever.

It hits him only a few months later that the thing he so desperately hoped for that night was that you’ll keep liking him even at his worst– that he didn’t drive you away and one day, maybe, you’ll like him more than just a friend.

to. my first detention

September 1999

Sunwoo was never the one to break the rules.

Well, if you don’t count that one time he skipped class just because he got too bored of it in the middle of the lecture. And it wasn’t even that hard either– he just asked if he could go to the bathroom, and when he got the approval, he stood up and left, never returning.

Or if you don’t count that one time he climbed up the ladder on the side of the school building with his friend Juyeon and had his lunch there. Or that one time he cheated on an exam and made a scene about it when accused of the act, leading the professor into letting him off just that one time.

Sunwoo is usually too lazy to break the rules. Some days, paradoxically, his laziness is what leads him to break the rules. He can’t really help it, even if he tried.

The one time he does break the rules, expecting to be punished by his teacher for coming late to class, it’s not even his fault in the first place. Morning football practice ran late and he didn’t feel like rushing to change out of his practice clothing– see, the laziness is playing a part in this as well– so when he arrived into his Physics lecture, the clock was already 15 minutes after the bell rang for the first period.

Much to his surprise, his teacher didn’t even punish him. “Well, you’re an athlete, so it’s understandable,” he heard, making his lips stretch out into a subtle smile. If he knew that joining the football club would lead him to have such privileges, he would’ve done it a long time ago.

How did he still end up in detention, you may ask? Well, that’s a funny question.

Your flushed face appears in the doorway of the classroom exactly 2 minutes after Sunwoo does, breathing heavily and wiping the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand. Your hair tied up in a ponytail is loose now, stray hairs falling out to frame your face, your school uniform wrinkly, shirt not tucked in properly, as you spit out endless apologies to your teacher about being late for lecture.

“I’m really, really sorry about being late,” you bow, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you look around the classroom with apologetic eyes, “I had cheerleading practice and it ran a bit late, so I didn’t have enough time to–”

“Sit, Ms Y/L/N,” the teacher hums, “if you have time to do any other activities other than being in class, I’m sure you’ll have time to stay after class for detention, am I right?”

“Sir, I really–”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

Now, are you seeing the difference in the way you and Sunwoo were treated? That’s right. It may not look like it, because the young football player rarely puts effort into anything (other than the game), but when something angers him, it’s quite difficult for him to keep it in.

And that’s exactly why his ass is currently sitting in one of the chairs of his classroom, legs spread wide as he looks around the silent room in boredom. Accusing his teacher for being sexist and holding to double standards wasn’t the best idea, but it was enough to get him into detention alongside you.

His eyes get caught up with something– someone– sitting two desks in front of him, one to the right, scribbling their homework into their notebook. At least you are using up the detention time for important and useful things, he thinks. That won’t stop him from interrupting you in your task, though. Even better– it encourages him.

Tearing out a piece of paper from his notebook, Sunwoo fishes for a pen in one of his pockets, writing a short note that says: Wanna get ramen after this? before he crumbles the paper into a small ball. After watching the teacher for a few seconds, making sure that he’s not going to get caught, he throws the ball in your direction, aiming straight for your head.

He misses. Well, that’s why he plays football and not volleyball– he doesn’t have good aim when it comes to his hands– but nonetheless, the note ends up hitting your shoulder before it bounces off and falls to the ground.

Confused, you look around before you find Sunwoo staring at you, pointing towards the paper on the ground with a grin on his face. You sigh, sending a telepathic signal of ‘you’re acting like a child again,’ straight into his brain before you reach for the paper ball and take it into your hands, fingers uncurling the thin material and reading out the words he’s sent to you.

Only a few seconds pass before you throw the ball back to him– he catches it in his hands, earning an approving look from you at his strangely fast reflexes, making a sense of victory flow gracefully through his veins. A frown settles on his face when he reads out your reply, though.

can’t. I promised Aeri I’ll hang out with her later. we’re going for frozen yogurt.

Sunwoo furrows his brows. Oh how he hates to be denied.

I can join!! i could use some froyo

You send a tired look to him over your shoulder when you receive the message, rolling your eyes at his comment. It’s obvious that Sunwoo can’t join– he knows it by the look in your eyes. Hell, he knew he wasn’t invited even before he asked– he just likes to see your frustration. Something about the way your face scrunches up, clicking your tongue against the roof of your mouth, amuses him in a way he can’t really describe.

you could’ve gotten yours instead of staying in detention. what was that about, by the way?? I’ve never seen anyone willingly do detention… you must be out of your mind

The message makes him chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief. His motives are clear– well, at least in his brain. If he stays in detention, he can see you for some more. Which means he can hang out with you more (or look at the back of your head from afar, whichever you grace him with on that particular day). And he wants to spend as much time with you as he can, well, because… because he just likes to do so. Why?

Don’t ask. He hasn’t thought it out that far yet.

I just like things to be fair. I came late too :((

He writes back instead. Fairness is the last thing he cares about if the world is in his favor. If the world is unfair to you, though– that’s another thing.

weirdo.

You write back. The pen is already in his hand, ink getting hotter as he masters up a reply, when the loud voice of his teacher cuts through the classroom and announces that detention is over and they’re all dismissed. Something in Sunwoo’s stomach drops.

Sighing, he puts the note back into his pocket (and will forget to throw it out. Then, he’ll find it there after a few days, unravel the ball and read over the letters with a smile. He won’t throw it out then either– he’ll crumble it back and keep it there until the paper wears out and forms into litter in the pocket of his pants). Gathering his things into his bag, he swings the backpack over one of his shoulders before catching up with you, already halfway out of the classroom. You seem to be in a rush to meet Aeri– he understands– but there’s still one more thing he needs to do.

Clearing his throat, Sunwoo approaches you from the back. “Hey!”

“Hi,” you hum, adjusting the bag on your shoulder. “Aeri’s waiting for me outside, so I gotta–”

“Wait, I– I have something for you,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. Why does he suddenly feel so nervous? The words his sister said to him yesterday keep resonating in his head, and although he knows it’s not true and he doesn’t see you in that way, his stomach churns and he clutches his hand into a fist by his side, a desperate act to ground himself.

“What?” you look at him, eyebrows furrowed, all confused. Sunwoo’s not the one to give gifts– sure, he pays for your meals sometimes, but that’s only because you share them and he comes to the logical conclusion that he eats more of the portion than you do anyways, so it’s only fair.

“Um… well, my sister… she was making those bracelets yesterday and she made me do it with her, because she’s really annoying when she wants to be,” he mumbles, fishing for the bracelet in the front pocket of his backpack, lying straight through his teeth.

You stare at him with wide eyes, completely unreadable to Sunwoo. Well, he already said it, so he may as well just dig his hole even deeper. The yarn is soft under his touch when he twirls the bracelet in his fingertips, eyes focusing on the shades of red and pink, suddenly too afraid to face you and look you in the eyes. “And, uh… we made too many, so I brought you one, because… you’re my friend, and all,” he mumbles, chewing the inside of his cheek.

His sneakers are oh so interesting to look at in the few seconds he spends waiting for your reply. He feels like he’s in court, waiting for his ordeal– anxiety making him bounce on the tips of his feet, his other hand clutching the strap of his backpack for dear life.

“Did you make that?” you ask, tone of voice genuinely appreciative.

“Yeah,” he shrugs.

He did not.

“That’s– that’s really cute,” you gasp, making the boy finally look up. When he finds that the words are addressed to the bracelet his sister made, not his act of kindness, something inside of him gets irritated, but the little devil in his chest leaves just as fast when you meet his eye and take the yarn from his hands, examining the red and pink knots from a closer distance.

“Yeah,” he hums, not really knowing what to say.

“Can you tie it for me?” you ask, offering the bracelet back to the boy and smiling at him, waiting for him to circle it around your wrist and secure it to place with a knot. It’s a bit long, the ends sticking out to different directions, but Sunwoo admits that it does look quite nice against your skin, and that if he forgets about the fact that it was his sister who actually made the bracelet (even though he begged her to teach him for approximately two hours, going as far as bribing her with his snacks), he does feel quite proud of the gesture.

There’s something possessive about the bracelet, he thinks. It's like a sign to everyone that you have someone who cares about you enough to tie it around your wrist. It’s like saying hey, this is my best friend! No one else enjoys their company enough to make a bracelet to prove it, but me. It’s like a silent translation of the heart’s calling: this person is mine. They’re not allowed to take this off until I die.

Sunwoo feels a bit giddy as he watches you admire the yarn around your wrist. You sport the same expression as Eric did when he forced a bracelet out of his sister yesterday– eyes glimmering, the widest grin on your features. While he may be sure what the face meant when it came to his best friend (although he tries to close his eyes from the obvious crush he has on his sister), he’s not quite certain when it comes to you.

In his mind, you smile like this at everyone. You’re just that kind of person.

But oh does he wish you mirror Eric’s feelings on the matter. Oh does he hope you tell everyone he is the one who gave the bracelet to you– he hopes you boost in front of your friends, tell them just how much you like it.

…maybe his sister was right.

Maybe the bracelet had a deeper intention.

August 2007

“So,” Sunwoo hums, taking a salty chip from the bowl settled in the middle of the table, looking over at you with a curious gaze, “how have you been?” he asks, chewing as he waits for you to answer.

It’s an easy question, one would think– and it’s true, it’s not the most difficult thing to answer. But considering the circumstances, the fact that you and Kim Sunwoo haven’t seen each other since you both graduated from high school, despite telling each other you’ll stay in contact and see each other whenever you have the chance to– it gets a little bit more difficult. It’s been 6 years, many things have changed, you had your fair share of good things happening to you as well as the bad.

What do you tell Sunwoo, though– a friend you lost somewhere along the way, much like everyone? Well, you can’t really blame him for growing distant with you– although to this day, you don’t really know the reasoning. He was the first one to leave, and although you always wished him the best, nobody can really blame you for doing your part at flying out of your nest. Everyone has to experience the outside world before they can find their place in it, no?

It’s not your fault that you weren’t as successful as you wanted to be…

“Well, you know,” you shrug, “so and so. Many things happened, but I guess I’m doing fine,” you conclude, nodding to yourself.

The face Sunwoo offers you is one of concern. You recognise that this is not really what he wanted to hear– not really what he expected you to say. The both of you were always ambitious, shooting for the stars, so it would be nice to know that at least one of you finally chased down the dreams you’ve had since you were young.

“What about you?” you ask quickly, shielding yourself from more interrogation. “How did football go?”

That has Sunwoo chuckling, averting his gaze. He takes a sip of the soda placed on his table before he turns to you again and answers the question, shrugging to himself. “Didn’t really go as I planned,” he says, nodding to himself. “Guess I lost many years on it, but oh well. Can’t really take it back now.”

“Don’t say that,” you hum, chewing on the inside of your cheek. The answer he offered you was not surprising to you– not that you didn’t believe in his abilities, not at all. It’s just that by now, if Sunwoo’s dreams came true, you’d be aware. You’d hear about him everywhere. You’d see him on the news, in the paper… It seems like your friend has disappeared out of the spotlight he always wanted even sooner than he could walk straight into the stardom. You wouldn’t say you were keeping tabs on him, no– you just cared enough to try to look for him in every place you could. “It wasn’t lost years. You did what you loved, and you tried your best.”

“I know,” he says, scrunching up his nose in an adorable manner before he sighs, “I’m just moping around. Besides, I quite like the life I’ve had since coming back home,” he admits.

“You do?” you ask, eyes glimmering in the lights. Something in you shifts– moves to a more comfortable place at the information. It’s strange that hearing that he’s doing fine still makes you feel at peace. It’s been years– you really shouldn’t care by now.

“I do,” he nods, “I work at Juyeon’s father’s bakery now. I didn’t really expect to like it, but there’s something charming about it, I’ll have you know,” Sunwoo says, taking another handful of chips into his hand before feeding them to himself, seemingly trying to chase down the tipsiness in his bloodstream.

That drags out a giggle out of you, shaking your head at the news. “I wouldn’t take you for a bakery kind of guy,” you say, “I can’t really imagine you in the kitchen.”

“Well, times change, Y/N-ie,” the nickname slips out between his lips like a punch to your gut, his teasing tone dragging nails to you in a weird sense of nostalgia, “I’m the best baker in town right now. People go crazy over my cinnamon rolls,” he nods, pointing a finger to you as if to prove his point.

“I find that hard to believe,” you squint at him, shaking your head in disbelief.

“You’ll have to come and find out,” he says, the sentence so casual that the contrast of his following statement has your heart drop a little, “well, if you’re… staying around for a bit, of course…”

Humming, watching as his eyes soften at the shift in your composure, you nod in agreement. “I’ll make sure to add that to my plan.”

Sunwoo nods in acknowledgement. Swallowing down the chips that were in his mouth, he dusts off his hands off the excess salt and licks his lips before speaking up again, seemingly collecting his thoughts. “So you’re staying around for a while?” he asks, a little bit cautious.

He doesn’t really know how sensitive this topic is for you– you don’t even know if he’s aware of your previous whereabouts, if he knows where you left off to and why– but Sunwoo stays caring, no matter the amount of time you spent not talking, no matter the big canyon that slowly formed in between the two of you in the years of no contact. It’s something you’ve always appreciated about him. He liked joking around, but he always knew where the boundaries laid, always knew when the joke went too far. He tried hard to avoid poking around too much, but he always made sure to apologize if he realized he hurt someone’s feelings. He’s a spark of violent fire, but he’s also tamed like a fireplace when he wants to be– warm, comfortable. It’s easy to feel like it’s back in the old times when you’re around him. It’s easy to pretend neither of you ever really left.

“I am,” you nod. “Things… didn’t really work out for me either, y’know,” you chuckle, the dry kind that shows just how bitter you are about the matter. “I went to New York with the internship my aunt arranged for me in KBS, but I guess I just… wasn’t really good enough to keep full-time.”

“Don’t say that,” Sunwoo mirrors your previous statement, an honest attempt at comforting you.

“No, it’s okay,” you laugh, “I stayed abroad for a while, tried hard, but sometimes, it’s just not meant to be, y’know? So after I realized my jobs weren’t making me enough money for a decent living in the States, I came back home,” you say, mouth forming a pout as you speak– the kind that shows you’re lost in thought, making up a plan as you go, “I’ll help my parents out for a while and then look for something to do here, I think.”

“Well, that doesn’t sound so bad,” Sunwoo says, offering you a soft smile. “I… I guess I’d say it’s good to have you back,” he admits, averting his gaze as he says the words, “ever since I came home, it felt like something was missing, so… anyways, you’ll figure it out, so don’t worry too much.”

“Thanks, Sunwoo,” you hum, pressing your lips into a tight smile, heart squeezing a little at his sincerity. It’s strange– it’s been years, having lived through countless different situations that were supposed to change the both of you, shift you into two completely different people– but somehow, Sunwoo still feels the same. Almost as if you two never left. Almost as if you two never drifted apart and instead spent your early twenties side-by-side, just like you always planned on doing.

The boy looks at you from the corner of his eye, a content smile spreading on his lips. You feel the atmosphere shifting, the situation tensing up a bit, and with the discomfort the image of him leaving you alone brings you, the words slip out of your lips with a bit too much ease.

“Would you want to… dance with me? I wanna see if you still remember what I taught you,” you grin, watching as the playful expression mirrors on your friend’s face, a nod eliciting from him that makes you quickly put your shoes back on and get ready for the dancefloor.

“Of course,” he hums, standing up swiftly and wiping his hands on the fabric of his pants before outstretching a hand for you, tone of voice sweet like honey, “my lady?”

to. my first dance

November 1999

“Who are you asking to the dance?” you question one afternoon, the two of you behind the closed doors of his room. There aren’t many times where Sunwoo gets to invite you over– mostly because he’s too shy to have someone around when his sister is home, and his sister isn’t known to have that many friends to hang out with– so the times where he finds you settled on top of the sheets of his bed, he treasures deeply.

“I dunno,” he mumbles, looking up at you from the comfort of his rug, shrugging, “I don’t really think I’m going, actually.”

“Oh?” you gasp, pouting at the boy. “Why not?”

“I don’t really have anyone to go with,” he says. What he really means is– you’re going with someone else. Sunwoo doesn’t really see himself dancing with anyone else but you– that’s just that kind of bond you two have in his mind. Your friendship is dear to Sunwoo, and the boy can’t think of anyone else he’d like to spend the evening with.

When his sister argued with him with logical words, telling him that he treasures his friendship with Eric just the same, but wouldn’t invite him to the prom, he just scoffed at her. MB!Y/N doesn’t know anything. He doesn’t treasure Eric in the same way, no matter the fact that they pretty much grew up together. Some things just don’t feel the same way with Eric as they do with you. He feels closer to you, in a way.

“Well, that’s bullshit,” you scoff, shaking your head at your friend, “you’re handsome. And you play football, which is every girl’s dream. I bet anyone would go with you if you just asked,” you propose, pointing a finger at the boy, not really noticing the way he blinks at hearing the words ‘you’re handsome’ coming out of your mouth in regards to him.

Do you find him handsome? Is that your subjective opinion or are you just objectively saying what you’ve heard in the cheerleader changing rooms?

He’d like to know. Just out of curiosity.

Sunwoo scratches the back of his neck in nerves, now fully seated and facing you. It’s hard to meet your eye when he talks, his words coming out muffled. “I can’t dance anyway, so it would be no fun for everyone involved.”

And watching you dance with his classmate Shotaro would be no fun either. See, it would be easy for Sunwoo to be okay with the fact that you were going to the prom with someone older (which is practically impossible, since you’re both seniors, just for the record…). He would understand your point, then. It’s easy to be okay with defeat when your opponent has the upper hand, but when you put two men against each other that are hierarchically equal to each other, much like Sunwoo and Shotaro, the poor boy finds it hard to not feel as insecure in his position.

But with Shotaro being the same age as him and the same amount of popular as him, Sunwoo can’t help but compare himself to his classmate. What does Shotaro have that Sunwoo doesn’t? Is it his smile? Should Sunwoo smile more…?

It doesn’t really help his case that you’re going to the prom with the head of the dance team. Sunwoo can’t dance… Is it the fact that he can’t dance?

Or are you just going to the prom with Shotaro because he was the one to ask you to go? Sunwoo can’t help but wonder– would you have gone with him, had he the balls and asked you first?

“What do you mean, you can’t dance?” you say, eyeing the male.

“Just… never learned to, I guess,” Sunwoo shrugs, “but it doesn’t really matter, since I’m not going, so…”

“But you have to go,” you pout, putting the boy in a difficult position. He doesn’t know if you’re aware of the fact, but your pleading look does wonders to his decision making. He’d commit arson if you asked him to with those glimmers in your eyes. He’d kill for you. Or die for you. Both, depending on the situation. He’d do anything.

“Why?”

“It won’t be fun if you’re not there,” you say, sighing. Your face looks so genuine Sunwoo almost believes it. It makes his heart squeeze and contemplate his decision. “I know Donghyuck is gonna spike the punch, and there are gonna be fireworks,” you hum, chewing on the inside of your cheek, “and this is our senior prom, Sunwoo… you have to come.”

The words resonate in his brain, making him even more hesitant about his decision. This is your senior prom– the last dance of your high school years. The last opportunity for Sunwoo to enjoy this time with you and his friends, the last chance he gets at seeing you in a pretty gown, all dolled up and smiling from the sneaky sips of alcohol you’ll get with everyone outside of the school gym. The last opportunity for Sunwoo to dance with you, his best friend, and possibly the last time he’ll ever enjoy his evening with the rest of his football team before all of them have to study in order for them to take their CSAT.

Maybe you’re right. Maybe he should go.

“I’ll think about it, I guess…” he mumbles, watching as your face morphs.

“You guess?” you scoff, glaring at him. “You’ll go or I’ll personally come to your house and drag you there by your hair, you get me, Kim Sunwoo?” you threaten him, having the boy laugh at your outburst. You’re really adorable when you tease him, Sunwoo thinks.

“Got it, chief,” he says, offering you a playful look as he salutes and lays back down onto the carpet, eyes pressed to the ceiling. “Don’t expect me to dance, though, because I refuse to embarrass myself. I have quite the reputation to uphold, you see.”

Sunwoo hears you chuckle, the noise of his sheets tousling landing into his ears. Before he has a chance to look at you and see what you’re doing, his view of the white wall above is shielded with the sight of your face, hair framing your cheeks as you stare down at him and put out your hands, waiting for him to take them and get up to a seated position.

“What?” he asks, genuinely confused.

“I’m gonna teach you, come on,” you call him with a motion of your hand, arms still outstretched and waiting.

“Huh?” he squints, watching as you roll your eyes in frustration.

“I’ll teach you how to dance, Sunwoo,” you snicker, watching as the boy slowly takes your hands and lets you drag him up from where he’s laying on his electric blue rug, “so you don’t embarrass yourself.”

That has Sunwoo stuttering, his figure freezing even when you manage to somehow make him stand up in the middle of his room. A million different exclamation marks appear all over his brain, warning him from the upcoming events, but he has no way of denying your proposition now, no matter how hard he tries. “No- it’s- you don’t have to, I’ll just-”

“Okay, so,” you say, dismissing all his previous attempts at stopping you from your quest, “first, you put your hand here,” you order.

The skin of your fingertips touches Sunwoo’s hand, making the boy’s heart stummer in his chest. You drag his palm towards your waist, placing it on the curve of your body. He swears he feels electricity flowing through the contact, warmth radiating off your skin even though it’s shielded by the fabric of your favorite shirt. He gulps as you put your hand on his shoulder, his eyes carefully following your movements, examining every slightest shift of your composure.

“And then you hold my hand with your other hand,” you instruct, but move to do it yourself when the boy doesn’t seem to have it in him to reach for your palm himself.

Your fingers interlock with his, making the boy chew on his bottom lip in a sudden flash of nerves. You’re standing so close he can smell your perfume, the scent making his head spin and feel lightheaded. If you made him turn in this moment, he’s sure he’d fall over, weak legs barely holding him up in your close proximity.

“Sunwoo?” you ask, making the boy gulp before he hums in acknowledgement.

“You have to look into my eyes when you slow dance,” you laugh, the sound soft and airy, but enough to have his stomach feel all weird, like he’s about to throw up. Still, he forces himself to look into your eyes, instantly feeling like you’re hypnotizing him. (He’s convinced he’d jump out of his window right in this moment if you asked him to.)

“Okay,” he nods, standing still, maintaining eye contact. His body is stiff, muscles tense as you just stand there for a moment. Sunwoo battles his inner fight and doesn’t look at any other features of your face– he has a weird obsession with staring at your lips whenever you talk to him lately. He feels like a weirdo every time he catches himself doing it, so he tries to get rid of the bad habit as much as he can.

“Now, you just… kind of sway to the beat,” you say. The boy nods, but his body stays unmoving.

“There’s… there’s no music playing,” he gets out, watching as you chuckle, your lips stretching out into an adorable grin.

“Right,” you nod, sighing, “well, I’ll just… let me just…” you mumble before you start humming a tune– one that makes Sunwoo laugh from how ridiculous it sounds, the notes so unfamiliar to him he’s sure you’re making it up as you go. Before he knows it, you start moving, making him mirror your actions.

It’s not as difficult as he thought it was, he thinks. You stare at him, all encouraging, as you sway from one foot to the other, nodding at him when you see that he’s following your lead well. Dancing with you suddenly feels like the easiest thing in the world, it feels like he was born to have you in his arms, in the middle of his room as you hum an unfamiliar song to him. He thinks going to the dance won’t be so bad– not if he gets to dance with you there for at least one more time.

“Doing well,” you smile, making the boy feel all warm on the inside. A feeling of victory flashes over him for a mere second. He beams in your considerate words, feels fuzzy under your warm gaze. He feels like he just won the lottery. It’s kind of silly, if he really thinks about it.

A boyish grin appears on his face, having Sunwoo shaking his head at how both ridiculous and over the moon he feels right now. The stream of hums coming out of your throat cuts off for a second as you talk to him with an instructing tone, a warm gaze pressed into his features. “So you can either do this, or you can…” the hand that was holding his suddenly untangles itself from between his fingertips (and Sunwoo’s momentarily glad, because his palm was getting quite sweaty– although he admits that it does feel empty now that you’re not holding it), before you place his other hand on your waist as well.

Something about the pose makes Sunwoo feel strangely intimate, a little bit bashful under your gaze. It only intensifies when your hands go up and entangle behind his neck, bringing you two even closer than before. The proximity has him blushing, red cheeks bringing heat to his face. He prays you don’t mention it– he really doesn’t know if he would be able to talk himself out of this one.

“Or you can do it like this,” you say before you lead the boy again, bodies swaying to an imaginary rhythm. You’re not even humming this time, having Sunwoo follow your movements in complete silence, his aimless movements mirroring your own. He’s surprised he hasn’t stepped on your foot yet when you decide to quickly teach him how to waltz (while also mumbling something about this dance being performed with the previous hand placement). He follows your orders– step forward, close, then another step backwards– and before he knows it, you’re leading him into a gentle turn, rising and falling in a ¾ count.

He’s getting lost in your voice– the softest “1, 2, 3, 1, 2, 3,” helping him to stay in rhythm– before he’s pulled out of his trance as he feels your fingers playing with the hair on his nape, entangling yourself into his black locks. The motion has him look back up to your eyes (that have been previously glued to your feet, making sure he’s not stepping on your socked limbs), surprised when he sees you staring at him with a sweet smile playing with your lips.

Halting your movements for a bit, you let out a giggle and take him by surprise when your hand reaches up towards his bangs, ruffling his hair as he still holds you around your waist, the two of you almost hugging in his room. “See? Not that hard. You’re a born natural.”

His heart feels like it skipped a beat, a weird sense of panic enclosing around his chest. He doesn’t know what it is, not really knowing how to name the feeling, but it has him nervously smiling and urging him to escape you– escape your touch, escape your scent, your voice and the way you smile at him like you may feel the slightest ounce of the things he does for you, but refuses to accept on most days.

Rushed movements make him break apart from your grasp, quick breathing making him feel like he might spiral.

“Hey! We weren’t done yet!” you call after him when he runs towards the door of his room.

Not looking around, the boy gulps and nervously calls back to you, facing the door. “I’ll be back! I just have to pee!”

The door to his bathroom closes behind him with a loud shut. The boy doesn’t aim for the toilet– instead, he walks over to the sink, turning on the tap and splashing his face with ice cold water. When he’s done, feeling a bit less heated up, he looks up and stares at his face in the mirror. He gives himself some time to collect his thoughts, to hopefully let go of his foolishness.

How many more times will he have to remind himself that he only sees you as a friend?

to. my first date

January 2000

The snow crunches under his sneakers and makes Sunwoo slip on the cold surface– no wonder his mother screamed at him for not wearing his winter shoes before he went out with his friends. He bets it would be way less difficult to walk in the whiteness of the ground if he had more grip in the soles of his shoes, but oh well– he’s not really good at making clever decisions half the time. Nobody can really be surprised.

Somewhere along the way between the moment he’s interrogated his sister about the reason for her bad mood and the moment where he purposefully let her with his best friend at the top of the hill with no way out (he had a hunch the two of them had some things to talk about, from both of their uneasy demeanours for the last day), he realizes he lost both his sister and his best friend, and while he’s quite certain Eric can find his way home just fine, Sunwoo shivers at the thought of not bringing his sister home to his mother. He’s not quite sure he’d survive that.

The quest of finding you both begins the moment the friend group reaches the top of the hill. Given his sister’s impulsiveness, she could’ve ran away from home, and that’s not what he wants to deal with on such a pretty winter day.

Sunwoo finds his plan being successful the moment he reaches the hot chocolate stand. The victory he feels after finding his younger sister alive and healthy is quickly overshadowed with the sight of his best friend’s face close to hers, very clearly going in for a kiss. He thinks he has to do something before he is permanently scarred with the image of them two making out right in front of his eyes as he gathers some of the icy texture into his hands and makes a ball, aiming straight at the head of his best friend.

The snow hits the both of them, right in the middle where their faces are supposed to meet. It’s not quite where Sunwoo was aiming, but he figures it’s good enough– it stopped his sister and his friend in the act, and that’s all he really cares about at this moment.

“Eric Sohn, what the fuck do you think you’re doing with my sister?” Sunwoo hollers, watching as his childhood friend takes off and leaves his sister alone on the bench to watch the conflict. The rest of the group follows with laughter as Sunwoo gathers more snow, tailing Eric and making sure the boy is punished for whatever he’s been doing.

It’s not like he disapproves. Not at all, actually. He just thinks it’s fun to mess with him a little.

“I didn’t mean to! Hey!” Eric cries out over his shoulder, trying his best to escape the frostbite. Karma is not on his side as he trips over something and falls to the ground, efficiently helping Sunwoo and the rest of their circle to corner the poor youngest, snow hailed on his limp figure.

One would think the group of them were making a snowman with how they’re rolling the poor boy around in the snow. Juyeon and Donghyuck make sure there’s not a hint of skin unhidden by the ice, making Eric mourn and kick around– he’s left helpless, though, outpowered and outnumbered by his peers. If anyone unknowing was watching the scene, Sunwoo is sure he’d be framed for bullying.

He thinks it’s quite deserved. Why? He’s not really sure why. He just has a hunch.

“Okay! Enough!” Eric mumbles, shaking his head when Donghyuck tries to fit snow into his mouth. “I’m sorry! It won’t happen again!” he says, eyes opening wide as MB!Y/N appears somewhere behind her older brother, a teasing pout settled on her face.

“It won’t?”

“MB!Y/N– I– Just help me..?” the boy pleads, making the rest of the group laugh and finally relax, easing the attack. Juyeon hums something about young love, making the rest of the guys roll their eyes on his unusual cheesiness, before Donghyuck taps his teammate’s shoulder, making sure he’s paying attention to him.

Sunwoo raises his eyebrows at him, waiting for what he has to say. “Look, isn’t that Y/N?”

There are a few ways to catch Sunwoo’s attention. First– you have to mention football. He could spend hours on the topic of who’s the best player– Ko Jongsoo or Ahn Junghwan? If anyone asked him to write an essay on it, he’s quite certain he’d do a great job explaining their techniques and goal statistics for numerous pages. Second– you have to mention food. He’s a big fan of junk food, but ever since his friend Juyeon introduced him to their family bakery, he’s been a big cinnamon roll enthusiast. And third– you have to mention Y/N.

Just the mention of your name is enough for the boy to stand alert, suddenly all too knowing of his surroundings. He turns his head to look for you, catching sight of your figure dressed in your long coat, standing all alone at the bottom of the hill. There’s an almost bored-looking expression on your face, although Sunwoo thinks there’s a bit of disappointment behind your eyes, making a cloud shade your them and make them lose their usual glimmer. That alone has the boy frowning, and before Donghyuck can say anything more or try to gossip about your sudden arrival, Sunwoo takes off– trying his hardest not to slip on the snow in his sneakers as he runs down the hill and tries his hardest to get to you quickly.

“Y/N!” he calls for you, getting your attention. You turn to him with expecting eyes, watching as the boy runs towards you and does, indeed, slip on the snow.

He manages to save it. Doesn’t mean you didn’t see him falter, though. “Careful there,” you grin, making the boy mentally kick himself in the shin at being uncool in front of you.

Sunwoo glosses over the comment, ignoring the previous two seconds of his life. If he acts like he’s not embarrassed, it might as well come true. “What are you doing here? I thought you said you’re hanging out with someone else when I invited you on the phone today,” he says, curious to know why you changed your plans so suddenly.

There’s a hint of bitterness in your composure when you shrug, averting your gaze. “That fell through, and I didn’t wanna… I figured you’d be here, so I came…” you trail off, your half-assed explanation enough to bring the boy into an inner conflict– one part of him feels bad for you, his heart clenching when he takes notice of your stern gaze and the disappointed expression on your face, the other one foolishly happy that he got to see you today, that you went here looking for him.

“Oh,” he nods, not really sure if he should pray more information out of you. He tried to ask you about it when he called you this morning, twirling the landline on his finger nervously when he asked you if you wanted to go sledding with him and his friends. He even mentioned his sister tagging along to make sure you didn’t feel as awkward going– you wouldn’t be the only girl there! You’d get along with her well, he said, not really sure if he was lying or not. Either way, his sister does need her own friends… “Well–” he starts, not really sure where his own sentence is going, before you cut him off with a rushed out sentence, spoken so quickly Sunwoo barely registers it in that confused brain of his.

“Would you wanna go on a date with me?” you ask, eyes big as you stare into his.

The question takes a few seconds to register in Sunwoo’s brain. He can physically feel the auditory waves entering his ears and converting themselves into electrical signals by the auditory system. The signals enter his left hemisphere– maybe he could point towards the area with his finger if you asked him to, the impact of the question so present in his mind– and then it decodes in the Wernicke’s area, slowly, but surely making more and more sense to him. The boy gulps at the invitation. He understands the question theoretically now, he’s registered it in his brain, but the practical implication of your preposition is still unclear– why in the hell would you ask him to go on a date with you?

“I…” he stutters, feeling heat rushing to his cheeks. He feels like a fool– he should’ve said yes a few seconds ago, when you first asked the question– but something inside of him is telling him that maybe his reaction is valid. No one expects their friend to randomly ask them out on the bottom of a snowy hill. Certainly not when he was 99% sure you liked someone else.

“Look, it’s- it’s good if you don’t want to, really, I just… I was supposed to go on a date with Shotaro today, but he never arrived, and I…” you nervously scratch your neck, once again averting your gaze from him, “I guess I was hoping you were in the mood to go out with me, since I got all ready and stuff…” you mumble, your tone of voice breaking something inside of him.

Oh. So you weren’t really asking him out. You just didn’t want to feel like a fool that got stood up. How stupid of Sunwoo to think you wanted to go on a date with him. The two of you were just friends, after all. Best friends.

And best friends are for cheering each other up. So despite feeling absolutely defeated, Sunwoo battles the weird feeling in his chest and puts on his best smile. “Of course! Don’t even mention it. Where… where did you wanna go?” he asks, watching as your face relaxes, shoulders falling back to their natural position.

“Are you in the mood for some ramen?” you ask, eyebrows rising in question.

“I’m always in the mood for some ramen,” he nods. He’s always in the mood for whatever you are.

“Great,” you nod, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“Great.”

“So… let’s go,” you say, nodding to yourself as you walk away from the hill, having your best friend tailing you, following you towards the ramen place in the center of the town.

There’s a bit of an awkward silence hanging over you as the two of you escape the sledding area. Sunwoo doesn’t even pay his goodbyes to his friends and his sister, but he trusts that Eric can get her home safely when the time comes to head back. The boy mentally curses out Shotaro for standing you up– how does he dare to ask you out and never arrive? He doesn’t care about the possible circumstances of his classmate’s absence. All he cares about is the saddened look on your face and the unusual quietness enveloping your aura.

“Should I go kick his ass?” he asks, trying his hardest to make you feel better.

“It’s okay, Sunwoo,” you shake your head in disapproval, eyes pressed to the ground.

“Are you sure?” he asks again, not satisfied with your answer. “I’m quite good at fighting, contrary to popular belief, but if things go wrong, I know my friends would have my back,” he says, playfully punching the air.

The little play consisting of him kicking and punching an imaginary figure goes on for a while until he’s satisfied– meaning: until you’re left laughing at his overly exaggerated movements and grunts, shaking your head in disbelief at his boyish antics. Taking his hand in yours to make him stop with the play-fighting, you drag your now interlocked fingers towards your coat pocket, hiding his cold hand in the thick fabric.

Sunwoo’s heart beats fast at that, making him believe it’s going to run out of his chest any minute now– or make him go into cardiac arrest, either or– as he grows speechless, looking at you with big, surprised eyes. You don’t seem to put much meaning to your gesture, going as far as gently caressing your thumb over the back of his palm, his frozen skin growing hot at the contact.

He’s never held hands with you before– if he doesn’t count the amount of times you dragged him around when the both of you were late for the shared cheerleading and football practice on Tuesday afternoons– and so the intimacy of the act makes him feel strangely weak in his knees. It’s hard for him to take his eyes off you, almost looking like a deer in the headlights to anyone watching you two right now. Sniffling from the cold, you shrug.

“It’s okay,” you smile, sending him a quick glance, “I didn’t really like him like that anyway. It just… feels a bit disappointing to get stood up, that’s all,” you nod.

Sunwoo nods at that too, something in him shifting. You don’t like Shotaro like that? When was this piece of information when he really needed it? (For like the last month, every time he couldn’t fall asleep because the thought of you marrying his classmate at one point in the future haunted him too much and made him want to poke the dance club leader’s eyes out?)

“I get it,” he says, walking along with you. Every time he feels the eyes of someone on you two, he feels his chest filling up with an unfamiliar sense of pride. Something about being seen with you as you’re all dolled up and holding his hand in your coat pocket makes him all giddy on the inside– no matter if this is a real date or not.

Because screw it, Kim Sunwoo is tired of reminding himself that he’s supposed to only see you as a friend. Because he doesn’t.

“I’ve never been on a date before, though, so you have to teach me all about that too,” he hums, tonguing the inside of his cheek.

That has a giggle escaping your throat, another shake of your head in disbelief at his words. He doesn’t know what’s so funny, but he decides that as long as you’re laughing, he’s fine with feeling the tiniest bit of humiliation. He’d do anything to make you happy, he thinks. It’s a feeling stronger than him and he doesn’t know how to make it go away– he decided to stop battling it a long time ago.

“Just be yourself, Sunwoo,” you say, “that’s already perfect enough.”

Perfect. Sunwoo’s cheeks grow hot at that. He’s happy that it’s cold out– maybe he could blame his blushing on the weather. The boy isn’t so sure you know about the effect your words have on him. He’s always thought of you as perfect– flawless, funny, friendly, smart, kind and… and beautiful– but the adjective doesn’t quite seem fitting when he looks at himself in the mirror. He doesn’t believe you could hold him to such standards. He’s nothing special. God, he knows he’s not good enough for you– still, he keeps wishing he could be.

“You look really pretty, by the way,” he hears himself say, the words escaping his mouth before he has the chance to stop them. The tone of his voice is quite unnatural in his ears, softer than it usually is, and somehow, the comment makes you roll your eyes, which he finds to be an unnatural reaction.

“You don’t have to say that just because you’re on a date with me,” you hum, eyes not meeting his. (Which might be a good thing. Sunwoo would like to keep his feelings hidden for a bit longer, and he’s not so sure you wouldn’t recognise the tender inkling he has towards you in his longing gaze.)

“I’m not saying it because of that,” he mutters, voice quiet, yet honest.

Watching the side of your face, eyes still glued at every feature of your profile, he knows he’s not lying. He finds you oh so pretty even in the faint hue of the winter sun, with your scarf pulled up to the middle of your chin and hair pinned up with a pretty, silky bow. He finds you nothing short of angelic. Perfect. It’s kind of silly, if he really thinks about it.

Still, he can’t help himself. To this day, he counts the afternoon he spent with you, eating ramen at your favorite place, to be the first date he’s ever gone on.

Somewhere in the corner of his soul, he begs you count it as real too.

August 2007

It’s only a couple of days later when you find yourself in front of Juyeon’s father’s bakery, nervously chewing on your bottom lip and gazing at the glass door. The sun is shining strongly down on your skin, making you feel like you’re going to get a sun stroke if you keep standing in the direct light for any longer, and with the pressure of both the weather and your own thoughts, you decide to stop wasting time and push the door open, entering the establishment.

Not really sure if you’re welcome– who knows, Sunwoo might have just been acting nice and civil for the sake of not ruining his sister’s wedding– you prepared a mental shopping list of things you wanted to get at the bakery. You hadn’t seen your parents in a long time, so you thought a few donuts might make them happy. If Sunwoo just treats you like any regular customer when you walk in, you’ll take it as your sign to act like one and let this whole thing go.

Truth be told, you don’t even know why you’re so nervous. It’s not like you’re promising yourself something more from this… right?

It’s not like you suddenly felt younger again when seeing him at the wedding. It’s not like the memories choked you up when you went to sleep that night, it’s not like the feelings you had for the young boy suddenly waved at you in greeting, reminding you of just how close the two of you were all those years ago.

Not at all. Why would anyone even think that?

The ring above the door makes a sound as you walk in, your insides clenching in a weird mix of nerves and anxiety at encountering Kim Sunwoo again. The store is empty when you reach the counter, but you’re soon greeted by the sound of the staff door opening, a tall figure stumbling in with a tray of pastries, yelling out a quick: “I’ll be right there!”

And as you watch Sunwoo with his bangs sticking to his forehead, an apron tied tightly around his thin waist, you feel like he hasn’t aged a single day and you two are still the same teenagers that ran around your school in order to not miss practice. The boy looks up at you from below his eyelashes, a boyish grin taking over his features as he puts the hot tray down on the counter and throws the kitchen towel he’s been using to shield his skin from the heat to the side, greeting you.

“Y/N! It’s nice seeing you again,” he beams, wiping his hands on his apron, gaze gluing to yours and never leaving, capturing you in a sincere eye contact that you don’t have the heart to break.

“Hi, Sunwoo,” you chuckle, pressing your lips into an honest, yet a little bit awkward smile. “How’s it going?” you ask, desperate to keep the conversation going– afraid that if it dies down, you won’t be able to revive it ever again and you’ll just regret it forever. There’s a weird sense of urgency in you, like you have a time limit to figure everything out– like you have to act now, or everything you ever wanted might slip from between your fingertips– yet, the more you watch Sunwoo in the serene atmosphere of the sweet-smelling bakery, you notice yourself relaxing.

“Good! Better now that you’re here, actually, it’s been a slow day,” he muses, nodding to himself. “What about you? Can I get you anything?” he asks, eyebrows raising, round cheeks on full display as he stares at you with an expecting smile.

“I’m doing well,” you nod, humming, “really well… catching up with my parents, settling in and stuff… You know the deal,” you laugh. “I actually came to get some donuts for my parents, sort-of like a thank you gift for letting me stay until I figure out my own place and stuff,” you say, watching as Sunwoo urgently nods with acknowledgement.

“Say less, darling,” the nickname slips out from him a little too easily, a little too casually for the way it captures your heart. It has you nervously shifting from one foot to another, insides warming up with the impact of his fleeting gaze as he moves to get a box from under the counter, moving closer to the glass vitrine filled with the sweet pastry. “Your mum loves these ones,” he points towards the donuts coated with the pink glazing.

It’s kind of weird– how Sunwoo knows exactly what your mother likes, despite him not being around your house every other day like when the two of you were teenagers. It makes you realize that even though you moved away for years, the time here didn’t stop. Everyone moved on with their lives, everyone continued on as if nothing happened. And you can’t hold it against them– you guess you just hate the weird pit in your stomach that opens up with the realization that while Sunwoo knows which pastries your mum likes (most likely because she stops by to buy bread often, taking some treats with her for her and dad while she’s at it), you don’t.

You try hard not to show it on your face, though. Sunwoo continues to pack more donuts into the box, not really attempting to ask you for what you’d like– he just chooses himself, making sure you bring home the best ones of the bunch, the most delicious ones they carry. Letting him do his work, merely watching as he carefully moves the donuts from the vitrine to the box, you hear him continue on with the conversation.

“You came in on the right day,” Sunwoo hums, “Juyeon works tomorrow, so you wouldn’t be able to catch me if you went.”

Ignoring the fact that he sees right through you– sees that your intention was to see him, to have a way to visit him and attempt to rekindle whatever bond you had when you were young– you just chuckle. You can’t blame him for knowing you so well, despite not being around each other for so many years. When you were young and in love, you used to call him your soulmate, after all. You guess there’s always a hint of truth, even in the most lovesick fantasies. “Well, then I’m glad I went in today,” you admit.

Sunwoo smiles at that– the kind of smile you always loved at him, the one where he shows his teeth and his eyes crinkle up into moon crescents. Once he’s done packing your donuts, he puts the box on the counter, showing you his back just as fast when he turns around, seemingly grabbing something else as well. When he’s facing you again, there’s a sweet pastry in his hand, still warm.

“What’s that?” you ask when you notice him offering it to you, eyes peering into his.

“A cinnamon roll,” he says, waiting for you to take it into your hands, “I told you everyone goes crazy over my cinnamon rolls, so I wanna see if their magic works on you too.”

“Is this how you flirt with girls over here?” you chuckle, but take the bun into your hand nonetheless, taking a hesitant bite of the treat. The sweetness melts on your tongue, the warmth of the freshly-baked pastry enchanting you with its taste, something about its essence weirdly reminding you of home.

“Haven’t tried it before,” he shrugs, “so tell me if it’s working,” he jokes, watching as you chew on the roll.

“Well, is it any good?”

Humming in satisfaction, delight on the tip of your tongue as you swallow down the heavenly dough, you nod. “It’s to die for, Sunwoo.”

“Told you,” he shoots you a cheesy finger-gun, reminding you so much of your best friend from high school, before he turns and takes a paper bag from somewhere, talking to you as his back faces you again, “I’ll get you some more to take home with you. I bet they didn’t have those in the Big Apple.”

“If I knew I was missing out on these, I would have come back quicker,” you joke, watching as Sunwoo turns to you with an amused look on his face, seemingly enjoying the praise.

The eye contact unarms you again, your composure falling just the slightest. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you clear your throat and reach for your wallet, ready to pay and leave so you can think about the interaction on your way home (and overthink every slightest detail, just like teenage you would after every fleeting touch young Sunwoo would send your way). “How much do I owe you?” you ask.

“Oh, it’s on the house,” he says, licking his lips, “consider it a… welcome gift, if you will,” he hums, offering you the box full of donuts and the paper bag consisting his infamous cinnamon rolls, your skin touching just the slightest when you take them from him, but still making electricity jolt through the nerve endings of your fingertips.

“No, Sunwoo, I really can’t-” you shake your head, but get caught off by him.

“Take them, please. You can pay me back some… other time?” he cautiously says, seemingly not really knowing if he’s still within your desired boundaries.

“O-okay, then,” you nod, agreeing to the subtle invitation– the subtle promise to meet again, the hopeful question leading into something more. “Thank you, Sunwoo,” you hum, smiling as you turn towards the door and get prepared to walk out, giving both of you some time to think about what happened in the last few minutes.

As you open your mouth to say goodbye to him, hand landing on the doorknob, you hear him call after you once more.

“Oh and Y/N?” he says, a confident look suddenly overtaking his features. “I end here at 5, if you’d like to hang out after.”

Unknowingly, a grin appears on your features, the one that’s so strong you can’t really mask it no matter how hard you try– as you nod at him, the victorious feeling flowing through your veins maybe even a bit dangerous. Still, you don’t have it in you to turn the invitation down– you wouldn’t be able to even in your wildest dreams.

This is what you came here for, after all, isn’t it?

“Okay,” you agree. “So… I’ll see you later?”

“See you later,” he nods, teeth capturing his bottom lip. It’s kind of adorable. He couldn’t battle the smile threatening to pull at the corners of his mouth, no matter how hard he tried.

Maybe coming here– coming back home– was the best thing you could’ve done.

“Wanna come in?” Sunwoo asks. It’s a few hours later– you followed through with his invitation and waited for him in front of the bakery at 5:05 sharp, catching him after his shift. You two took a walk through the whole town, waltzing slowly through his neighborhood until you reached his childhood house. You remember far too many afternoons spent in the comfort of the walls, and although you think it would be nice to revisit those memories, you notice his mother’s car (is it still hers? You have no way of knowing.) in the driveway, and suddenly, you’re too shy to join him as he drops his stuff off in his house.

It’s like you’re a teenager again– except, you never had any problems meeting his mother before. She was a nice woman, although a little busy (you only heard Sunwoo complain about the fact a few times– mainly when he was feeling sentimental or particularly under the weather about something), and she always treated you very nicely. Almost like you were supposed to join the family one day. His sister once asked you if you’re gonna marry him, and you laughed at her back then– you were so young, you didn’t even think of having a wedding with Kim Sunwoo. The funniest thing was the timing: you weren’t even dating him at the time. Or planning to, really. Sure, you always imagined somehow spending the rest of your life with him, in one way or another, but the thought of marriage didn’t often cross your mind. Life is ironic, you think– MB!Y/N was the first one to have a wedding and here you are, retangling your life paths with her brother again.

So no, you were never really scared or shy in front of his mother. Back then, things were different though. Simpler? You’d say they were definitely easier. You were more extroverted and open, more ambitious and less embarrassed of how your life turned out to be.

Also, you didn’t want to give her any ideas. It’s far too soon for that, you think.

“No,” you shake your head, hesitating a little bit, “I’ll wait for you here,” you say, watching as he smiles at you and nods, walking inside of the house to drop off his things and change.

You two didn’t really have any plans for the rest of the evening. You told Sunwoo he could show you around town, tell you what changed and what stayed exactly the same, since he came home earlier than you– you bet it could be two or three years ago. He eagerly nodded, although noted that not much is different in your hometown and your walk could turn out pretty uneventful. No plans were set in stone, though.

Nervously shuffling from one foot to another, you decide to walk around the yard. Sunwoo’s house was always big– although it seemed more giant to you when you were a teenager. It’s a strange observation, since you didn’t really grow any more inches since you hit puberty. Your eyes study the flowers in front of the gate, the mowed grass, the big tree in the backyard. If you focus hard enough, you could almost see the two of you laying under it, letting the leaves shield you from the sun, both much younger and carefree than now. Sunwoo would show you pages of his favorite comic books and you’d play on your Tamagochi, making sure it doesn’t die in two days like his did when he first got it. When you turn to your right, you see the garden house you two– sometimes with his sister, sometimes with Eric, sometimes with both of them at once– spent many afternoons in.

There used to be an old, red sofa inside. There wasn’t much space, since it was filled with gardening supplies, Sunwoo’s and MB!Y/N’s old bikes, flower pots, packs of soil and all other things you could need for gardening, but it was fun to hide away from the sun in there and drink iced tea, talking about whatever came to your minds or solving nanogram puzzles in comfortable silence (or occasional sigh from Eric when he got stuck somewhere in the middle of his crosswords).

Your curiosity gets the best of you when you open the door, deciding to see if it’s still the same inside. Your eyes widen when you notice the garden house a little less packed than before– mainly because Sunwoo’s mother no longer does gardening in her free time and buys her vegetables on the market like your mum does, you presume– but instead, it’s full of all the things the childhood you knew so well.

Sunwoo’s old bike– red and a little rusty, but you bet it could still work. The rug they used to have in their dining room is now in the middle of the little garden house, stained with dirt. Next to the usual red sofa is a leather armchair that they used to have in their living room for a while, the dark brown fabric now worn out, chapped and peeling off. In the corner of the room, you find a box filled with various sports equipment– tennis rackets, a yellow tennis ball, a jumping rope, and lastly, a half-deflated football. The sight of it has you sighing a little, reminding you of Sunwoo’s composure when he told you about how he never got to pursue his childhood dream fully.

Your eyes glaze towards his old skateboard, having you chuckle, the memories of him riding it down the hill in front of his house appearing in your mind. Sometimes, he would be there with his sister and his childhood friend Eric as well (that more often than not let MB!Y/N borrow the board, watching her with lovesick eyes instead of riding it himself), the young boy trying to teach himself tricks he saw on the TV.

“Do you think I still got it?” you suddenly hear Sunwoo ask from behind your shoulder, making you jump in surprise. The male laughs at your shocked face, shaking his head in disbelief at your easily shaken composure.

“You scared me,” you breathe out, clutching your chest for good measure, to show him how much you really mean it– your heart was racing, and contrary to popular belief, the sight of him in casual attire (a gray hoodie, so similar to the one he used to wear in high school, baggy Adidas sweatpants covering his legs) wasn’t the reason for the little heart attack.

“So did you!” he exclaims. “I got outside and didn’t see you there, I thought you ran away for a second,” he hums.

“As if,” you mumble, “I walked all the way here, why would I leave so suddenly?”

“I dunno,” he shrugs, “you could’ve changed your mind, or something,” he says, his composure suddenly as boyish as when he was just a teenager, something in your heart softening. You guess he sometimes still carries some of the same insecurities he tried so hard to mask when he was young. Some things don’t really change, but you really wish at least this would’ve.

Smiling at him, you shake your head. “I don’t think you still got it, though,” you go back to reply to his initial question, pointing towards the skateboard.

“Well, who knows,” he peeps, “maybe I could do an Ollie, or something.”

“I really don’t think you could, Sunwoo,” you laugh softly, watching him regain his statement competitiveness.

“Wanna bet?”

“No,” you shake your head, “I don’t want you to break your bones, so let’s just say I believe you,” you giggle, watching as the boy mirrors your expression, his gaze softening.

A short moment of silence overtakes you two as you sigh and look around the garden house, instinctively taking a seat on the red sofa covered in dust. You bet it’s been years since anyone’s sat on it, and you’re glad to be the one revisiting its comfort. It’s like solidifying your return– like the old piece of forgotten furniture in Sunwoo’s garden house is the spawn point of your childhood. “Doesn’t this make you nostalgic?” you ask, eyeing your companion.

“Well, I live here,” he shrugs, “so not as much as it makes you, I suppose. Having you here again makes it more nostalgic, though, I’ll give you that.”

His words have you overcome with something bittersweet. Seeing the town you love so much makes you almost regret you ever left. The rational side of your brain reminds you that you gained a lot of experience abroad, though, and so you settle with being just a little bit remorseful of your past self for being so overly-ambitious.

“It’s weird,” you allow yourself to be vulnerable in front of him, the essence of him being your best friend– your first love, the first person you ever felt safe with– overtaking you in the moment of weakness, “it’s like everybody moved on, but I stayed here.”

“Well, not everybody moved on,” Sunwoo hums, referring to himself. “Juyeon stayed, too. Eric and MB!Y/N are moving only a few hours away… Haknyeon lives down the street now,” he points out, a poor attempt at making you feel better.

“Yeah… it’s just… I hoped I would do big things. I hoped we would both do big things,” you say, tone of voice quiet, your eyes avoiding him. It’s hard to keep eye contact with him when you share your struggles– at least that’s the way it always was when you were young. The look he offered you always made you feel so tender, so cared for that you wanted to burst out crying. In your age and state, you can’t afford to tear up in front of your ex-boyfriend anymore.

“Sometimes, things don’t work out the way we want them to,” Sunwoo says, tone of voice considerate. “And that’s fine. I wanted to be a star, and I’m not, but that’s okay, because hey… I’m happy anyway. I’m content. And I know that one day, you’ll be too. It just takes a bit of time.”

Snickering, you play with your fingers in your lap, legs plopping up and crossed, striking an almost defensive pose. “Were you… were you embarrassed when you came back?” you ask.

Sunwoo laughs, the sound so heartfelt it makes your insides squeeze. “Terribly. I mean, look at me in my mid-twenties, still living with my mother. Even back then, I felt like a failure. I felt like a disappointment, but… then I realized not everyone had the opportunities I had. Not everyone almost made it professional, you know, and that’s still something to be proud of.”

“I’m still living with my mother, but hey– she’s getting older and the house is big. MB!Y/N moved out, and I wouldn’t want my mum to get lonely… so I think I’m doing pretty well, given the circumstances,” he says. Pausing for a heartbeat, as if collecting his thoughts, he continues. “I think you should find the positives in your situation too. Not everyone got to live in New York... Work for the national TV… That’s still a huge achievement, and I think you should be proud of yourself for that.”

Rolling your eyes– although grateful to hear the words– you snicker. “It’s hard to do that right now…”

“I know,” he nods, smiling when you finally look at him. “It takes time. And until then, well, for what it’s worth, I’m really proud of you. And maybe… maybe you coming back home is how life’s supposed to go anyways.”

Biting down on your lower lip to stop yourself from tearing up– see, you knew you shouldn’t have looked the boy in the eyes during his little pep talk– there’s suddenly a weight leaving your shoulders, heart softening and growing more tender. Your wounds seem to sting a little less. It’s strange– even after so many years, he still knows just the words you need to hear.

“Yeah,” you nod, voice barely louder than a whisper, a soft smile playing with your lips, “maybe.”

to. my first kiss

March 2000

His eyes stay glued to the TV in your living room, the boy almost looking hypnotized as he focuses on the program running, furrowed brows and all, showing his utmost concentration. A sigh lands into his ears, but goes unnoticed when you enter the room, a scowl sitting on your face. “Sunwoo! I told you to watch the oven! What if the cookies burn?”

“Yeah…” he mumbles, not a single word coming out of your mouth truly registering in his brain.

“Sunwoo!” you grunt, but when you get no reply, you just choose to roll your eyes and walk into your kitchen yourself, opening the oven and making sure the cookies you two have been baking haven’t burned down into coal yet. Not long after, you plop on the sofa next to your best friend, tone of voice still showing a bit of frustration at his carelessness.

“You shit on Eric for watching those, but you’re just as bad,” you hum as you notice the kdrama going on in the TV. It’s one of the ones that hardly make any sense and each scene is overly-exaggerated and repeated at least twice to create impact, but Sunwoo finds himself living for the drama. Each argument has him examining the scene, mentally rooting for his favorite characters– and although he is busy with football practice nowadays, he doesn’t skip a single episode of Happy Together.

It’s not as entertaining as the manga comics he borrows from Hyunjae’s father’s comic shop, but he figures that it’s good enough to pass some time… and indulge over.

“I think they’re gonna kiss,” he notes, pointing towards the screen.

“Oh, good point, Sherlock Holmes,” you sigh, shaking your head in disbelief. If there was something you’d expect out of your friend, it seemingly wasn’t his enjoyance of cheesy dramas that air in the afternoon hours of the week.

And Sunwoo admits, he was never the one to enjoy romance. Hell, it was something he always made fun of when it came to his friend Eric– he was not the one to watch romantic comedies, he wasn’t the one to tell girls cheesy lines or bring them flowers on Valentine’s day. He does seem to be enjoying the laughable scenes rolling on the TV a little too much lately, though.

Maybe he should start hanging out with Eric less.

The scene slowly transforms into close-ups of the two main characters, showing them instinctively closing their eyes and leaning towards each other, eyes trained on each other’s lips. It doesn’t take much to predict the next actions, but Sunwoo still finds himself restless in his seat when they finally kiss, legs kicking up and a gasp escaping his mouth. One would think he won the lottery or was just greeted with the greatest surprise ever, with how he’s reacting. None of the two are true, though.

“Oh, wow,” you hum next to him, seemingly not really interested in the drama as much as your best friend is.

“You’re ruining it,” Sunwoo sighs, looking at you as you roll your eyes and settle deeper into the couch cushions.

“Oh, sorry,” you note, but your composure stays a bit annoyed.

Sunwoo watches the TV for some more– the scene of the two characters kissing stays on the screen, slowed-down and repeated, in the true 90s TV show fashion– before his eyes trail off the device and move towards you, glazing your side profile. He takes notice of your casual attire– you changed out of your school uniform in the time he was supposed to watch the cookies baking in the oven, and something in his stomach churns, making him blurt out the random question that so suddenly appears on the tip of his tongue.

“Have you ever kissed anyone before?” he asks, genuinely curious. He doesn’t even know why the response matters to him so much– he also doesn’t really know what reply he’d like to hear better, if he’s being honest– but now it’s out in the open and he can’t take it back.

“Hm?” you hum, snapping your head towards him. “Oh. Yeah, I guess…”

“You guess..?” Sunwoo repeats, furrowing his brows. How can one not be sure?

“Well– yeah. It only happened once, though,” you shrug. It takes everything in Sunwoo to not ask who you kissed and when, or under what circumstances, and decide to despise that person until the day he dies. It’s not his business and he shouldn’t even care in the first place… He can’t say he’s disappointed in your answer– it’s your life and your decisions– but something inside of him screams that now, he can’t be your first no matter how hard he’d try. (It’s not like you’d want to kiss Sunwoo anyway, so he really doesn’t know why he’s making such a big deal about it.)

“What about you?” you ask, the question catching the poor boy off guard. He didn’t necessarily expect you to ask him back– so much to his title of Sherlock Holmes– and the reality that he can’t lie to you takes him out in full force as he bashfully stares out of the window.

“No,” he peeps, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

There’s something embarrassing about admitting to the girl you like that even at the ripe age of 19, you’ve never kissed anyone before. Shame creeps up his neck and adorns his cheeks after the simple word slips out of his mouth, eyes refusing to meet yours.

“Really?” you ask, and you sound genuinely surprised– there’s a hint of Sunwoo’s ego recovering, but he thinks the hit was too hard for him to ever recover.

“Yup,” he says, a popping sound heard as his lips voice out the last consonant, the view of him playing with his own fingers suddenly more interesting than anything else happening in your living room right at this moment.

“I thought– nevermind,” you hum, scratching the back of your neck, “why are you asking?”

“Just… just curious, I guess…?” he stummers, shrugging.

A moment of silence overtakes you two– enough to make the boy instantly hate everything he’s ever said on the matter. If there could open up a hole in the ground right now to swallow him, he’d jump in with much enthusiasm. Why did he have to ask?

“Do you wanna try?” you suddenly propose, making the boy’s heart feel like it burst and threw him into a cardiac arrest. His hands start sweating, his cheeks tint red and it feels like all oxygen was suddenly sucked out of the living room, his lungs collapsing on themselves.

You seem to try to save the situation, noticing the utter shock on his face. “I mean– you don’t have to, but I… I wouldn’t mind, and it’s– I don’t know… if you wanted to practice with me, or something, I’d be down to…” you stutter, chewing on your bottom lip as you finish the little tangent, terror evident in your eyes.

Sunwoo feels like a little boy that just found his favorite gift under the Christmas tree. Like he found the most pricey toy there, the one he always wanted, and now that it’s there, he’s scared to actually play with it, because he doesn’t want to break it. Much like your friendship, he thinks. There’s too much to lose if he crosses this line, and he’s very much aware.

But the offer seems tempting. Almost too tempting. God, he doesn’t think he could say no.

He may not be your first kiss, but you’re asking to be his. This sounds like a dream, if he really thinks about it.

“You know what? Just forget–”

“I’d– I’d like that…” he mumbles, trying really hard not to avert his gaze from you.

Your gaze softens, nodding your head. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he agrees.

“Okay,” you nod again, moving a little closer to him. Your knees knock into the side of his thigh, your whole figure now facing him on the sofa as his legs still point forward to the TV. He keeps staring at you, a little nervous, but expectant. “Are you sure? You don’t have to do it just because–”

“I’m sure,” he cuts you off, watching as your face relaxes, a smile appearing on your lips at the next addition. “I want to.”

“Okay.”

You move impossibly closer, your crossed legs in contact with his clothed skin. He curses the thin fabric of the pants of his school uniform for making him feel every slightest flex of your muscles when you move, making his skin flare up and burn. He keeps staring at you, watching you as you lean closer to him, your faces now inches away from each other. Sunwoo finds himself focusing on every feature of your face, counting the eyelashes framing your eyes, glazing over the sparkles in your orbs. You stay close for a minute, unmoving.

Eyes locking, Sunwoo finds himself gasping a little, breathing shuddering when he notices your gaze falling to his lips. Your breathing mixes, air meeting his face when you breathe out a minty breeze. His heart is already racing and you’re not even doing anything.

When he finds you finally moving towards him and notices your eyes shutting close, he mirrors your actions, but stays unmoving. After what feels like eternity, he feels something soft pressing to his lips, warmth spreading from that part of his face to the rest of his body. The contact of your lips with his is gentle, like you’re testing the waters, and although the feeling is unfamiliar, Sunwoo decides he doesn’t hate it.

The weird firework show in his stomach actually suggests that he’s quite enjoying it. Your lips break away from his for a bit, rewarding him with only a peck, and before the boy has the chance to think this is it and it’s over, you dive in for more and kiss him again, this time longer, more firmer.

Your hands come up to cradle his cheeks, holding him close. He feels himself burning up, his composure completely crumbling when he feels you smile against his lips.

“You know you can kiss back, right?”

“Mhm,” he hums, opening his eyes to see you staring at him with a tender look.

“Try it,” you say, hands gently coming up to brush his bangs away from his face. If anyone was looking at the two of you now, Sunwoo thinks they’d conclude that you two were in love.

And maybe Sunwoo was, by the way he was looking up at you like you hung the stars on the sky. By the way he was staring at you with such a vulnerable look he feared you might see right through him, see right to his core and call him out on every unconfessed word hiding in his heart. He looks a little scared, a little tense, still, but his eyes don’t lie. They never do. There’s no one else that could make him feel the way you do.

“Okay,” he nods, moving in his position so he’s facing you, ready for more.

He mirrors your previous motions, leaning towards your face. He wets his lips and closes his eyes when he’s sure he’s close enough to not miss your mouth, and after another deep breath in to calm his nerves, he presses against you. He feels you freezing under him, a momentary panic spreading all over his chest as he thinks he’s done something wrong, before he feels you kissing him back.

A whole other sensation takes over him when he feels your lips moving against his, his fingertips buzzing when he drags his hand up and moves your hair behind your shoulder, large hand resting on your jaw. He’s not sure if he’s doing this correctly– hell, he’s never done this before– but after you move a bit and entangle your hands behind his neck, pressing against him a bit more firmly, yet still tender and gentle like the first time, he recognises that somehow, it feels right, and he thinks that’s all evaluation he needs for now.

The need for oxygen makes him break away from you, breathing heavily as he opens his eyes and finds you resting your forehead against his, smiling. “Like that?” he asks, shamelessly staring at your wet lips, already yearning for more.

“Something like that,” you nod, giggling. “You still need more practice, though,” you suggest, making the boy frown.

“Was it that ba–”

Rolling your eyes at him, frustrated at the way he always needs everything spelled out for him, refusing to take a hint, you press your lips against his again, teeth clashing a little when Sunwoo picks up the pace and kisses you back. The TV is a mere white noise in the background now, everything around you two disappearing, all of Sunwoo’s senses focused on you and only you. He could get lost in the way you taste– like strawberry bubblegum you bought at the store on the corner of the street– and the way you feel against him– soft, tender, warm.

He feels like he could burst. He knows his hands are a bit sweaty, but he’s only half aware of the fact when his palms move to hold your cheeks, much like you did to him before, and your hands entangle in his hair, playing with the strands.

He could stay like this forever, blissfully unaware of the consequences of this act. He could kiss you over and over and over again, even if it meant he was still bad at it and needed more practice– he could get lost in your scent, in the tender way you hold him to you, in the way you keep smiling against his lips whenever he does something to surprise you: like get a little bolder and angle your head by your chin with his thumb, getting more comfortable.

He’s glad he’s sitting down, because he’s quite sure his knees are too weak to carry him right now. When you break away from him again, lips swollen and eyes blown-out, he thinks you might just be an angel. He’d love to engrave this image into his memories forever.

Although, he’s doubtful that he could ever forget about this. Or anything about you, really.

And even as you suddenly gasp, finally aware of the world around you, running to the kitchen and screaming: “Sunwoo! We forgot about the cookies!”,

he wonders just what more you could teach him about life. He’d follow you to the end of the world if you asked him to, holding your hand in his and not thinking twice. He’d bring you down a star, if you only so expressed you would like one. He’d do anything.

You taught him what friendship is. You taught him what it means to care for someone. What it means to have someone special. You taught him how to drink (although by scolding him when he was hungover. He felt cared for even with your stern gaze). You taught him how to slow dance– even though you spent the prom with someone else. Just now, you taught him how to kiss.

And although you’re unaware, he’s quite certain that when he’s 19 years old, spending each of his days with you, although unaware, you taught him how to love someone too.

August 2007

You feel kind of silly, standing in front of the bakery as the sun sets over the horizon, the clock striking near 5 in the afternoon as you gnaw on your fingernails and hesitate a little before coming in. Pushing the door open and slipping inside, the male currently sweeping the floor looks over at you, a look of pleasant surprise sitting at his face and a sunny smile sent your way upon your arrival.

You don’t really know why you keep running back to him. The whole town reeks of familiarity to you, every corner and inch of each street filled with the essence of your childhood and your whole growing up. It’s not like you don’t have anything else to ground yourself back to, but somehow, your inner voice always keeps calling for Sunwoo. It’s weird– it’s been ages and you shouldn’t feel like this around someone who you haven’t even properly dated for that long, if you don’t count the few months before he left– but it’s something you can’t control, an essence you can’t hold back.

“Y/N,” he calls for you, “what are you doing here?” he asks as he continues his routinal cleaning, putting the broom away behind the counter.

It’s a stupid question. You bet he realizes it too, but you’re somehow glad he is taking initiative. This way, you don’t have to be the first one to spark the conversation. This way, you know you’re welcome.

“Oh, well,” you shrug, “I’m… looking for you…?” you say, tone of voice suggesting that you’re hesitant, almost a little shy to admit it to yourself.

Maybe you’re foolish for feeling this way. Because you know what all those things mean– you know what the lightness in your stomach is, what the giddy feeling resonating through you whenever the male smiles at you is. You know that thinking about someone constantly, more so before you sleep, isn’t an usual occurrence with someone you pay no attention to, with someone you don’t care about. You’ve been in love before– with the same man that’s standing right in front of you as well, funnily enough. You know what this all means.

But with how he’s inviting you in, letting you into his little bubble, you think it’s not as bad of a thing. He’s not pushing you away. He’s not building bridges. He’s the same way he was all those years ago, and you’d hate to find out that all of this wasn’t something more and was just him being nice.

“Well, that’s good to hear,” he chuckles, wiping his hands on the apron still tied around his waist. “I’m off in a few, though, so if you want anything from the bakery–”

“I’m not here for the food,” you laugh, dismissing him with a wave of your hand. The boldness is unusual for the present you– there’s a hint of your past shining through whenever you are with the boy, though. Maybe you like this sense of familiarity. Maybe you like to feel real again– maybe you like to feel like yourself. It’s hard to admit it, but you did lose your sense of identity after moving abroad. It’s hard to stay true to yourself with so many new people around and with so many expectations and responsibilities. The pressure changes you, and you now rely on Kim Sunwoo to bring you back to default– to where you’re supposed to be.

“Okay, then,” he nods, thankfully not making a big deal out of your desperate visit, “what would you like to do?” he asks, eyes sparkling under the lights when he looks at you. It’s like an open invitation– he gives you the chance to tell him how you’d like to spend your time with him. He did this a lot when you two were younger as well. It felt good to have someone that would make the effort to enjoy your hobbies with you– no matter how disinterested he could be in the matter.

“Hang out… I guess…?” you hum, shrugging. You didn’t really have anything planned. All you knew was that you wanted to be with him. It’s like the heart’s calling– you don’t know when your inner monologue got so cliche.

“Anything specific?” he asks.

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you shake your head in disapproval. You fear that you disappointed him, let him down in some way– you came all the way here, after all. You could’ve made something up on the way, couldn’t you? But still– just like the Sunwoo you once knew, so lively and full of ideas– he just purses his lips for a second before speaking the suggestion into existence.

“Well… do you want to bake with me? Like the old times?” he says, sending you a look full of warm honey.

You wouldn’t say no to that invitation. You’d be crazy to do so.

The Kim Sunwoo you used to bake cookies with in the comfort of your kitchen back home wasn’t so skilled in making the dough like he is now. He wasn’t so good at knowing the recipe from memory, nor was he gifted with the kitchen appliances he has now, all professional and shiny, reserved just for the use of the bakery. You don’t really know if he even had the love for baking in him back then– you just know you two enjoyed your time together, and when you are young, that’s all you really cared about anyway. It didn’t matter that he let the cookies burn sometimes. It didn’t really matter that they didn’t turn out well on some days– all morphing into one big block, making you cut the dough into pieces so you could eat it when you accidentally added too much butter.

He still looks the same, though. A few years older, but with the same boyish aura to him when he wipes dirty hands on his apron. All grown up now, but still with the same glint in his eye whenever he looks up at you in between your conversations. When you’re with him, you no longer feel the distance between who you are and who you used to be, the distance between you and him. It’s like the old days, but a little better.

Maybe you have more time now.

The two of you work on the cookie dough, enveloped in a comfortable conversation. “You have to add more sugar,” Sunwoo hums from next to you, watching as you work on the mixture.

“Isn’t it funny how I was the one always giving you directions when we baked together and now you’re the one ordering me around?” you laugh, taking the sugar from the counter and sprinkling more in, listening to the opinion of a professional.

“Well, my cookies don’t turn into one big blob of dough anymore,” he jokes, laughing. “Besides, it’s my job now, so you’d kind of expect me to be good at it.”

“You can’t be so sure of that…” you hum, shaking your head.

“Why? Do you have any experience with being bad at your job?”

“Oh you bet I do,” you laugh, nodding. “I was an intern before, Sunwoo. A colleague of mine once tried to console me by saying being an intern means being bad at the job, so it wasn’t that big of a deal, but I still cried myself to sleep multiple nights,” you conclude, thinking back to your New York endeavors.

“That bad?” Sunwoo asks empathetically.

“Yeah. Mixed up everyone’s coffee order on my first day. When I was confronted about it, I tried to play it off by saying I don’t have a good memory…” you muse.

“Well, it’s hard to remember a lot of stuff at once, to be fair–”

“I was getting coffee for three people, Sunwoo. Objectively speaking, it shouldn’t be as hard…” you say, now thinking back to the events of your internship with more humor than embarrassment.

Sunwoo laughs at your story, shaking his head in disbelief. “Not worse than my teammate back in Boston. The first match of the season, he scored a goal against our own team. His reasoning? He used to play against the goalie back in high school, so he got confused.”

The boy takes over at making the dough once it’s the turn to add in the chocolate chips, glancing at you momentarily when you laugh at his anecdote. Watching him from the side, you heave out through your laughs. “That’s actually hilarious,” you get out, washing your hands in the sink. “What about some funny stories about yourself, though?”

“Don’t have any. I’m too perfect to humiliate myself like that,” he notes, pressing his lips together and raising his eyebrows at you in an ironic expression, nodding.

“Oh, as if–”

“How is it?” he asks you suddenly in the middle of the sentence, seemingly done with kneading the mixture. Sunwoo puts the cookie dough in front of your lips, waiting for you to taste it. You’d do it all the time when you were both teenagers, but back then, the gesture didn’t feel half as intimate as the mere image of it does now.

Locking eyes with the male, you hesitantly open your mouth and let him put the dough into it, tasting the sweetness on your tongue. Sunwoo’s eyes darken, as if he’s just realized what he’s done, the weight of the situation falling down on him as your tongue comes in contact with the skin of his fingertips. Gulping, he watches as you suck the tip of his digit into your mouth, getting all last remains of the sweetness off of it, something in the air shifting towards a direction you didn’t expect from tonight.

“Good,” you nod, licking your lips, “delicious.”

Seconds turn to what feels like eternities as you stop all motion and look into each other’s eyes, finding any hint of disapproval with the so obvious turn of events. His chocolate orbs peer into yours, making you ignite with something close to an urge you can’t control, his eyes anchoring themselves to the curve of your lips when you decide to let go of all anxiety and insecurities and just go for it. The cookie dough was sweet, but you’ve never tasted anything sweeter than Sunwoo’s lips. You might just have to refresh your mind, you think.

Leaning closer to him, your breathing mixing in the few centimeters left between your mouths, you relish in the déja vu this action brings you. It feels like yesterday, yet also centuries ago since you last kissed the male, and although you’re sure you enjoyed it back then, you wish you could’ve told the younger you to kiss him more often, more firmly, with more passion, maybe even sooner. For longer.

Pressing your lips against his first, almost like always– since Kim Sunwoo was a bit shy with his kisses when you were both just high school seniors– your eyes shut close and everything around you disappears. You guess there’s something about baking that makes the two of you want to feed off each other’s lips– except this time, it’s not practice anymore. It’s not innocent, it’s not clueless. This time, it’s real, alive and passionate. You can’t say you hate the sentiment, the weird parallel your relationship has come to. It’s like you’re reliving your life again, but this time, you know how the story ends– you know how to fix the ending. How to keep him here.

Sunwoo’s more experienced than he was when you kissed him for the first time. He’s less shy and more bold, lips firmer against yours, but still careful and gentle. His hand comes up to cradle your jaw and position you so he has the best access to your mouth as he slips his tongue in, as if chasing down the taste of cookie dough he fed you just a few seconds ago, and although you liked to battle him when you were young, you let him win this time– you let him take you home, bring your mind to where it’s supposed to be.

Hands gripping the front of his shirt, but immediately going to circle around his neck when a particular movement of his makes you moan slightly into his mouth, you play with the hair on his nape and feel him shuddering under your movements, an automatic response that makes fondness spread over your chest. Everything about him is familiar to you– he still reacts the same way to your tender ministrations, he still smiles against your lips when you tangle your fingers through his hair and want to ground yourself in the touch.

You know him like the palm of your hand. It’s easy to get lost in something you are so familiar with, in someone that was once your everything. It’s easy to indulge too much in something that was forcefully taken from you, to get right back where you left with him, because time and circumstances were never on your side.

A touch of his hand on the side of your neck, lips trailing down your mouth towards your jaw. The boldness, the urgency of his movements is enough to have you turn your back against the counter, his body pressed tightly against yours. His palms under the backside of your knees have you sitting up on the cold marble, his lips never breaking away from your skin.

You’re enjoying the shift in the dynamic. You’re enchanted with the way he handles you, like he’s been starved of you for years, wanting to chase down all the time you spent away from each other. Breathing heavily, feeling his plush lips sucking down on the sweet spot under your ear, then trailing down the side until he reaches the juncture of your neck, an involuntary “God…” slips past your mouth.

“I missed you,” he says, words muffling against your skin, “I missed you so much, I felt like I was going crazy.”

The confession makes you dizzy, your whole body growing weak. It’s like he knows exactly what words you wanted to hear. It’s like he knows what haunted you all those years, what you kept asking the universe on sleepless nights over and over, praying for an answer. It’s like he knows exactly how to get you close to him, to have you completely let go of the past.

“I missed your jokes,” he says, planting a kiss on your neck. “I missed your smile,” he presses another one a little more up, “I missed your laugh,” another kiss, now on your jaw. “I missed holding your hand,” a peck planted to the corner of your lips, “and I missed kissing you…” he trails off, pointing his attention back on your mouth, locking the two of you together again, as if kissing you was his new addiction and you were the drug.

Sunwoo’s hot hand creeps up your waist, fingers slipping under the thin fabric of your tank top. The contact makes you shiver in response, your bodies still as responsive to each other as back when you were 19, and when you tug at his bottom lip with your teeth and slip your tongue back into his mouth, you feel the boy tug at the right strap of your top, sliding it down your shoulder. You’re barely registering the bowl of dough to your right, the fact that you’re in the kitchen of Juyeon’s parent’s bakery, or the fact that you only just met the boy two weeks ago for the first time in years. All you focus on is him– his touch, his taste, the way he makes you feel. All you know is longing. The desire.

Before you have the chance to take anything further, the sound of the door opening makes you jump away from each other– your head almost hitting the top cabinets, had Sunwoo not instinctively put his hand there to shield you from the impact. Before you get a chance to register what’s happening, a familiar voice calls for you, their tone a little guilty and bashful.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to interrupt, or anything–” Juyeon peeps, clearing his throat.

Glancing at Sunwoo, you see his cheeks redden at being caught by his older friend, yet his eyes still roll in annoyance at the interruption. You can’t help but try to hide your face into his shoulder– it’s not like you’re embarrassed of being with Sunwoo, you’re just embarrassed that it had to happen here, of all places.

“Well, you just did,” Sunwoo grunts, frustration coating his words.

“I’m just here to grab something,” Juyeon hums, almost racing through the room to get to the fridge on the other side of the kitchen, taking out a carton of milk from the inside and showing it to the two of you. “This is gonna go bad soon, so I’m taking it home to use it. Uhm.. anyways, well, don’t let me stop you in anything… bye!”

Neither of you greet the male back, instead sharing a meaningful, knowing look between each other. The view of your first boyfriend with his lips puffy, cheeks flushed and hair a little disheveled makes your senses go crazy, and although you’d like to continue what you started, you don’t think now is the right time or place.

Hopping off the counter, you smile. “So… where were we with the cookies?”

to. my first girlfriend

May 2000

Eyes trained on the ball, feet restless as he runs across the field to retrieve it and pass it to one of the shooters– either Donghyuck or Jinyoung, the more capable ones of the team– Sunwoo finds himself completely focused on the game. It’s one of the last matches of the season, and since he doesn’t know if he’s ever going to play his favorite sport again– he hasn’t received a verdict on the university applications he sent yet– the boy figures he should enjoy each game like it’s the last. Because who knows– one day, it may as well be, and if he’s not prepared for it, if he has any regrets, he knows he’ll take it harder than he’s supposed to.

Kim Sunwoo’s position in football is midfielder. While Eric once told him that it’s a loser position, since he’s not the shooter and he doesn’t score many goals (which is a lie– the boy had him know he scored his fair share despite his defensive position on the field), Sunwoo’s grown to love it. He’s the one that’s supposed to counter all attacks on his teammates. He’s the one that runs after the ball and passes it to the shooters, so technically, he’s the reason why any of them even have the opportunity to score. His position is as important as any other player's, and he takes pride in the compliments he gets from his coach whenever he does particularly well at a game.

Sunwoo loves football. He’d say his first love is football, but something inside of him keeps telling him that that’s a lie (don’t ask him why. It’s a secret.). It’s the first game he’s ever been exceptionally good at, the first thing he could do for periods longer than a few weeks. He’s been playing with the ball since he was young, and although he never had a father to kick the football around with in his backyard, his sister was always happy to be included in anything he was into at the time– when she got older, she even got better at being his designated goalie, although less interested in the play itself. Sunwoo feels like he lets go of all worries when he plays. It’s good to have an escape, something to keep his mind occupied. He doesn’t have many things to worry about, but he finds that kicking the ball around, making strategies in his brain on how to get it to his teammates the fastest, is enough for him to get out both his frustration and get something nice out of it. He enjoys the thrill. He enjoys the excitement, the shared joy of the team whenever someone scores a goal. He is addicted to the ecstasy in his veins whenever his team wins.

It was easy to determine that if Sunwoo wanted to do anything for the rest of his life, it would be football. It’s what he enjoys, what he loves. It’s what he’s good at.

It’s strange to imagine a time when he wouldn’t play football. He doesn’t even want to imagine it in the first place– it makes a chill run down his spine and an unsettling feeling churn in his stomach. In a perfect world, he’s always a football player.

Everyone keeps telling him he could easily make it professional, if he tried.

Football is how he met most of his friends. It’s how he met Juyeon– he was the captain of the high school team when Sunwoo was a sophomore, and he found that hanging out with the older boy was easy and fun. It’s how he met Donghyuck and Jihoon (before the latter dropped out of the team after a few months). It’s how he met you.

His coach always warned the players about dating the cheerleaders. For his coach, it wasn’t right to do so– it would throw off the dynamic of the game. “Nobody wants their ex to stare at them during their game!” the coach had said– not even thinking of the possibility of any of those teenage romances to last. Sunwoo only laughed back then. It wasn’t something he should be afraid of– he never liked anyone on the cheer team.

Until… until he did. Sunwoo met you on one sunny day, at your joint cheer-slash-football practice. You pointed out that the number on his jersey– 03– was your favorite, and the boy felt himself smile. Ever since then, he never wore any other number. He considered it to be his lucky charm. What started as friendship blossomed into something much more for the boy, and somehow, he can’t even remember when the feelings he had for you morphed into adoration. He doesn’t know when they shifted Into absolute enchantment, or Into a silly crush– he doesn’t know when he started seeing you in a light that was more romantic.

Wearing your favorite number on his back, Sunwoo runs towards the opposing player. There’s something akin to an angry face playing with the man’s features, and Sunwoo imagines it’s because of the very clear lead his team has on them. Sunwoo makes sure he doesn’t slip as he tackles the opposing player– he swears he heard someone call the shooter Jaechan– and as soon as he secures the ball, Sunwoo aims to forward it to his teammate.

The screams resonating all around him– although he tries hard to filter them out to focus on the game completely– suggest that it’s only a few moments before the game is over. It wouldn’t matter even if they didn’t score the goal, but something inside of Sunwoo’s heart leaps at the thought of winning with such a lead. The boyish excitement only grows when he watches Donghyuck retrieve the goal and run towards the goalpost, neon-orange sneakers shining through the green grass.

“Come on!” Sunwoo cheers, a hopeful spark lighting within him as the boy prepares to shoot, eyes quickly scanning the field.

And Lee Donghyuck almost never lets him down. Maybe that’s why he liked the boy so much in the first place– Sunwoo didn’t like players that dismissed the chance he won for them. He liked the skillful ones. The ones that knew what they were doing. (He also liked Donghyuck’s humor. He found himself grateful to have a friend so funny. He made even losing feel like it wasn’t such a big deal.)

Choosing the golden shooter proved to be a good idea once again– Donghyuck, number 35, shoots for the goal and the ball gets in. Seconds after, the sound of a whistle is heard across the place, the game over with Sunwoo’s team winning 4:1.

Everyone cheers– yells from the audience are heard, excitement reeking through the air. The whole football team gathers around, sweaty bodies sticking together as they perform some sort of a cliche group hug, arms patting each other’s backs and complimenting each other’s play.

The commotion dissolves shortly after. Sunwoo finds himself trying to catch his breath, eyes looking across the space for someone in particular. His heart leaps even harder when he finds you standing at the edge of the field in your cheer uniform, a big smile plastered on your face. Your eyes are glimmering as they meet with his. Your hair is a little tousled from the routine you just finished doing and there are smears and smudges on your cheeks from the face paint you used to symbolize the team’s colors– blue and gold. Over-all, you look ecstatic.

Sunwoo finds himself running over to you before he even registers that he’s going to do it. He’s like a fast, unguided missile, the goal of getting to you as fast as possible being the only thing resonating through his excited mind.

“Good jo-” you grunt as the boy finally gets to you, words cutting off when he (maybe a little harshly) puts his arms around your middle and picks you up, twirling you around. You screech a little into his ear and he finds himself laughing at your reaction. It’s like a runner's high– he feels like right now, he is capable of everything.

“Okay! Okay! Put me down!” you laugh when you start to get a little dizzy. The boy complies, since he’s running out of strength to carry you anyways, and puts you back to your feet. His arms stay tightly wrapped around your body, though, locking you into a secure hug.

“We won!” he cheers, the brightest grin settling to his lips as he announces the obvious.

You beam at him, eyes soft and crinckled into little moon crescents, a dumbfounded smile playing with your features. “I know, Sherlock,” you dismiss him again with the teasing nickname, shaking your head in disbelief, “I was here. Cheering for you,” you say.

And sure, Sunwoo knows that by you, you don’t necessarily mean him in particular– more like cheering for the whole team, the whole 11 players on the field– but something about the sentiment makes his stomach feel all light and a slight blush spread over his glowing cheeks. You were here– cheering for him (and his team) – and although you’re here out of your own will, out of your own devotion to your hobby, he somehow feels grateful for your presence. You never miss a game. You went even when you caught the flu and felt too sick to do your cheer routine– you just sat on the bench and rooted for your best friend. (The team lost that match. Sunwoo felt a little bad for tugging you out of your bed for it.)

The boy studies your face for a while. You look perfectly content in his hold. You fit perfectly into his arms, he thinks– almost like you’re supposed to be there all the time. He should hug you more often, he decides. Sunwoo foolishly finds himself focusing onto your lips– he blames the shiny lipgloss you put on today– the words coming out of your mouth not quite registering in his brain. “As I was saying, good job! The whole team, but you especially. Don’t tell anyone, but I think you really shined in this game. I’m really prou–”

A single peck is pressed to your glossy, sticky lips, cutting you off in the middle of the sentence yet again. Sunwoo surprises himself with the gesture– he was always too shy to initiate something with you, too hesitant to even touch you sometimes– but the euphoria is still playing with his senses, clouding his brain. He doesn’t think of consequences.

He can’t control himself anymore. It’s been weeks since you two kissed for the first time– exactly 4 and a half weeks since you taught him how to do so– and since that afternoon, he found himself thinking about it every single day, every single minute, all. The. Time. You two haven’t spoken about it since, making the poor boy a little disappointed, but he respected your decision. He knew that you didn’t particularly reciprocate his feelings, but he still expected your dynamic to shift. At least a little bit.

And although he should’ve been glad nothing changed and your friendship didn’t crumble because of a simple kiss, he found himself desiring to kiss you every time he saw your face.

You peer at him with eyes wide open, mouth a little agape. Sunwoo doesn’t really know how to read your reaction– you didn’t look particularly happy, but you also didn’t push him away– and so in the moment of panic, he begins to backtrack, his arms untangling from your sides.

“I- I’m sorry if I overstepped any boundary, or if I–”

You’re not fans of letting each other finish their sentences today, it seems. Before Sunwoo gets a chance to put a bigger distance between the two of you, he watches as you get on your tippy-toes and press a tender kiss on his lips– more firmer than the one he dared to give you, a little bit longer, yet still sweetly short. There’s something soft and gentle in your gaze when you pull away and press another peck onto his face– the tip of his nose this time– and Sunwoo almost physically feels his knees turning into jello, his own celebratory firework show erupting in the pits of his stomach.

“So, as I was saying,” you hum, hugging the boy around his neck, “you did well. You looked good out there,” you peep, the sparks in your eyes making Sunwoo’s skin burn with their contact.

That day, you teach him that to be loved is to have someone sharing your achievements with. To be loved is to be adored, to be loved is to have someone watching you and cheering you on, to have someone to run to with good news.

Kim Sunwoo’s football team won the match, but the boy thinks that perhaps, that day, he won something even greater.

to. my first lover

August 2000

The admission papers arrive at his house the morning he’s supposed to sleep over at your house. Your parents decided to take a trip to your aunt’s place for two days, so you invite the boy into the comfort of your home for the weekend– as far as Sunwoo’s mother is concerned, he’s sleeping over at Juyeon’s. He doesn’t have the boy covering him, but he’s also sure his mother won’t try to check if he’s telling her the truth. He’s not banned from having a girlfriend– he just doesn’t want his mum to get any wrong ideas.

He finds the envelope in the mailbox when he comes home from school, and something in his stomach drops when he sees the american stamp on the top right corner of the white paper. He debates on opening it, but every time he hypes himself up enough to tear the top of the envelope off, a little anxious voice on his inside tells him to wait.

Although reluctant to admit it to himself, Sunwoo is a little scared to see the result of his university application. Before he leaves for your house, he puts the envelope into the front pocket of his backpack and tries to forget about it. It works a bit better when he sees your face, hears your laugh– when he spends time with you and you two play the new board game you got from your cousin. Still, the weight of the envelope keeps bugging him in his mind no matter how hard he tries forgetting about it, and you finally notice (or finally bring it up after hours of ignoring his weird mood) when the two of you lay together in your bed in the evening, both facing the ceiling.

“Is everything alright?” you ask.

“Hm?” Sunwoo hums, lost in thought. “Oh, yeah,” he nods, “don’t worry.”

You don’t seem convinced. Shuffling a little in your sheets, you turn towards him and move your body closer to his, your arm suddenly draping over his middle. A tender kiss is placed on his temple, almost making him crumble under the gentle care, and your voice earns a concerned kind of timbre when you speak to him. “You can tell me,” you hum, “boyfriends and girlfriends are supposed to tell each other things.”

Boyfriends and girlfriends. Sunwoo feels himself soften under the possessive title. It has been close to 4 months of you dating– starting with the winning match in April, progressing slowly through the summer break– but the fact that you’re his partner is still a little unbelievable to him. Sometimes, when he hears you call him your boyfriend, he still gets a little bashful. He still feels like he’s been told the greatest news of his life.

Maybe it’s the nature of this sentiment that has him slowly unraveling to you. And maybe, it’s because he’d tell you anyways– you’d be the first to know. He was just waiting for the right time to bring it up.

“The reply to my university application came in the mail this morning…” he trails off, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

You plop up on your elbow, watching the boy from above. Eyes big, you peer into his face. “And?” you ask, an expecting gaze glazing his features.

“I… I don’t know,” he shrugs, “I was too scared to open it alone.”

“O-Oh,” you nod, furrowing your brows at him, “well, it’s okay to be scared. I believe in you, but even if it doesn’t go the way you wanted it to, I’m still proud of you for trying,” you say, a gentle tone of voice cooing at him, like the nature of the way you play with his hair, wanting to make the boy relax from his anxieties.

“I have the letter here with me,” he says, swallowing, “in my bag.”

“Do you want to open it together?” you ask, watching as the boy nods.

He’s getting off the bed in no time, wearing just sweatpants and a baggy shirt to sleep in, grabbing his bag from the corner of your room and unzipping the small compartment at the front. His fingers take the envelope out, legs walking him over back to your bed, your figure now sitting against the headboard. Sunwoo finds himself mirroring your position as his fingers turn the little white thing in his hold with much stumbling, preparing himself for whatever answer awaits him inside.

Glancing at you, seeing you looking at him with an encouraging expression on your face, Sunwoo takes a big breath in and out to calm his nerves before he tears the top open and takes out the expensive-feeling paper. Not stopping his actions anymore, knowing that if he takes another moment to himself, he won’t be able to read the letter, he unravels the note and lets his eyes skim over the words.

Before he even has a chance to register the sentences written down in the letter, before he can even let his mind accept the result he’s given– ‘we are pleased to announce that you were admitted to the athlete scholarship program…’– he feels a pair of arms wrapping around his shoulders, jolting him awake from his thoughts.

“You made it! Oh my god, you made it!” you cheer, excitement taking over your whole body as you shake the boy in your hold from side to side. The reality still isn’t quite settling in for him, so he just lets you do whatever you please– which includes all of the following: screaming incoherent words into his ear when you hug him closer to your chest, planting a kiss to his cheek and throwing your hands up into the air in a winning gesture.

“You made it, Sunwoo,” you repeat, this time a little more collected.

Sunwoo finally allows himself to put the letter away and look into your eyes. “I made it,” he sighs, a soft smile playing with his features.

“You did!” you nod, grinning back.

It’s strange. The first step towards Sunwoo’s dream is now complete. He got admitted to the university of his dreams– the one that’s good for athletes, the one that is supposed to shoot him towards stardom. He has the opportunity to take classes there and train with some of the best aspiring players in the whole world. He has the opportunity to move out of the country, live at dorms in Boston, and most importantly, he has everyone’s support.

There’s nothing more a boy his age could want more. He has everything. His whole life ahead of him, only the brightest future waiting for him at the end– only if he keeps trying hard and improving. He’s happy. Don’t get him wrong– he really is. Somehow, though, it all feels a bit scary.

“What’s wrong? Aren’t you excited?” you ask, a pout taking over your once excited features. The amount of worries you have over Sunwoo gets bigger and bigger the older the two of you are. There are only so many things that can go wrong when you are a teenager, but now that you’re adulting, the list keeps getting longer.

“I am,” he nods, forcing a smile onto his lips.

“You don’t seem excited,” you argue.

“I am! I really am,” he says, trying to battle with himself.

“What is it?”

“What is what?”

“Come on, Sunwoo,” you sigh, “I can tell when something’s wrong. You don’t have to hide it from me, because I’ll know anyway. What is it?” you insist, staring the boy down with an examining look.

The boy sighs, shrugging to himself. “Well,” he starts, “the school is in America.”

“And?” you start, furrowing your eyebrows. “We knew that when you applied. Why is it such a problem now?” you ask, genuinely not grasping the whole situation.

Sunwoo chews on his cheek for a little while, plays with his fingers in his lap. A part of him is telling him that he both looks and seems foolish– because you’re right. It was his dream, he is excited, and this is good news. But still, there’s something he didn’t really think of when applying. Well, he did. He just thinks that the fact that him being accepted wasn’t really a realistic idea, no matter how hard he wished and prayed for it, so he didn’t have the need to think about it so seriously back then. Now it’s here, all real, and it’s a struggle he didn’t really grasp that he was going to have to go through.

“Well,” he starts again, still avoiding your eyes, “that means I have to move. And we won’t see each other for a while.”

There’s a heartbeat of silence following his confession– one in which he contemplates all possible reactions you might give him, some with truly catastrophic endings– but after what seems like eternities, he hears your soft, gentle voice. “Is that what’s making you so worried?” you ask.

“Kind of,” he nods, feeling his cheeks redden. You handle him with so much care– sometimes, he doesn’t know how to react.

“Awh,” you coo, taking his hand into yours, preventing him from picking at the skin of his cuticles until they bleed– an action he always does and you keep scolding him for. “Sunwoo, we knew about this when you applied. I am okay with you going away. Sure, it will suck, but it’s only for a little time, and I can come visit you there and you’ll show me around and stuff…”

Sunwoo presses a tight-lipped, hesitant smile to his lips. He feels reassured.

“And we’ll call, and it’s going to be fine, because this is good. This is good news, Sunwoo, and you’re gonna do great, and you’re gonna be a star, and I’ll be so, so proud of you,” you hum, voice tender and caring, doing your best at consoling the boy.

“I’m already so proud of you now, y’know?” you hum, squeezing his hand. “Everything will be alright, so don’t you worry.”

Sunwoo’s arms reach out to envelop you into a hug. He once again recognises how easily you fit into his arms, how perfectly you shape into his skin, and when he burrows his nose into your neck, breathing in your scent, he feels your lips reach into his hair, planting a soft kiss into it. Your words did more to the boy than only consult him– they gave him hope, they gave him joy, they made him feel like perhaps, this is not such a terrifying occurrence. And it really isn’t– it’s quite possibly the best thing that he’s ever achieved, and the circumstances of him leaving don’t seem as horrifying to him now.

As long as he knows that you have his back, he thinks he can do anything. And what’s 3 years abroad against the 4 years he’s known you?

When you pull away, you press your lips against his, the contact making his muscles finally relax and his mind let go of all the worries. There’s suddenly nothing in the world that could make him falter, nothing that could make him worry or stress or fret or change his mind, because he has your support, and you’re here with him, promising him that you’ll always be right by his side, wherever he is.

Your mouth molds against his, the familiar motion of your lips against his still surprising him sometimes, still making him curious even after those months. He’s been dating you for some while, but he still likes to explore what makes you crumble under him, what makes you hum into the kiss, what makes you tug him closer to you– it’s a fun game to him, trying to figure you out completely.

He still has some time, but it’s like he is trying to engrave those moments into his memory before he no longer can experience them first-hand as easily.

He goes out to explore again– his tongue gently inviting itself into your mouth with a swipe of your lower lip, relishing in the way your composure falters a little bit, letting him be in charge. You were always the more experienced one out of you two, so Sunwoo often shied away from being the one dominating intimate situations– afraid he’s not good enough, too inexperienced, too immature for you– but in the rare moments he does take the lead, your reactions give him a new source of confidence.

His hand comes up to cradle your jaw, nose pressing against your cheek as he angles you so he has more access to your lips. Something about his ministrations makes you forget to breathe, breaking away from him in a search for much needed oxygen, but Sunwoo acts like he’s been starved of you, latching his lips to the trail from your mouth towards your neck, planting open-mouthed kisses to your soft skin. He faintly remembers the time you gave him a lovebite that one time you came over to his house to work on homework together, sucking and biting at his neck (and although he enjoyed seeing the possessive bruise on his skin whenever he saw himself in the mirror, he wore the strings of his hoodies tightly tied to his neck, shielding him from being teased by everyone– but mostly Eric). He tries to mirror your motions, recreating the action to the best of his abilities.

He hears you grunt, making him fear that he’s doing it wrong– a momentarily panic settling in his chest screaming at him that he hurt you– but the worries are quickly dismissed as you move impossibly closer to the boy, straddling his lap and threading your fingers through his hair, keeping him close.

Humming under his touch, Sunwoo gets a kick from hearing the sounds coming out of your mouth. It’s like a reward– it’s like the praise he goes after his whole life, like validation of his actions being satisfactory for you. The pressure of your body against his lap makes him feel hot all over, sweaty hands holding you by your sides. Every slightest shift of your figure against his makes him shudder, composure faltering when you move in a way that has his breathing particularly quicken, a bundle of nerves forming in his stomach from the newly found hypersensitivity. There’s only so much fabric shielding the two of you from each other, and just the thought of it is slowly driving the boy crazy.

Pulling away from your neck, admiring the artwork he managed to portray on your skin, he feels you pulling him up to meet your lips again, heated, firm kisses shared in the silence of the room. He feels your hands resting on his abdomen, feeling him up for a moment before you sneak them under the hem of his shirt, dragging your nails against his skin.

Sunwoo hears a sound escape his throat at the contact, making him instantly feel foolish– until he feels you smile against his lips, following your ministrations by mirroring his previous actions and kissing down his neck, finding all the spots that make him the most reactive– like the place under his ear, the juncture of his shoulder. You revisit all the places you’ve tested before and perfected your aim to make him efficiently crumble under you. Sunwoo finds himself losing the initial control he had over the situation, instead letting you take over and lead him, much like you’ve done in most areas of his life. He likes to be your follower. He likes to see where you want him, where you need him, he likes to comply. It’s more comfortable for him this way. It makes him swell with pride when he makes you happy.

Another shift of your hips against him has Sunwoo digging his fingers to your side, whole body feeling like it’s electrified under your touch. Placing a soft peck to the spot you’ve had your attention on, you mumble into his skin. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Sunwoo swallows, noticing you leaning your forehead against his tenderly, eyes meeting.

“Are you sure?”

He nods. He’s never been more sure about anything in his life– he enjoys your company, he loves your touch, the way you make his every sense heighten, his heart beat quicker. Still, he feels a bit nervous at the prospected events. “I just– I’ve never done this before,” Sunwoo whispers the obvious, watching as you carefully observe him.

“Sweetheart,” you tenderly call, placing a soft peck to his lips. “That’s okay. Me neither, but we could… we could try and see where this leads us, if you’d like?”

The sweet pet name alone makes the boy let go of all his worries, of the stress and nerves he’s been holding on to for the past few weeks. You hold him like he’s going to break, and Sunwoo’s never felt so loved before. You reassure him that it’s going to be okay. You are there to remind him that life isn’t so hard, as long as you’re by his side.

“Okay,” he nods, smiling at you.

“Okay,” you repeat, holding his face in your hands as you kiss him again– it may as well be for the thousandth time. Truth is, while he tried to keep up at first, Sunwoo lost count a long time ago.

Everything there is to know about love, Kim Sunwoo learned from you. You showed him the childlike playfulness during your dates. You taught him how to kiss, only to take advantage of his newly found skills and keep them all for yourself. You showed him what it is to share joys, dreams, but also worries together. You were his first crush, date, relationship– and now, his first lover.

In the comfort of your childhood bedroom, holding you closer than ever, Sunwoo dreams of eternity with you. He doesn’t realize what a foolish thought it might be. Somehow, he’s got a feeling that no matter what it is, you two will figure it out. You always do.

to. my first love

September 2000

Muscles sore and whole body heaving in pain, Sunwoo trails inside the small bungalow the university gave him as student accommodation, dropping his duffel bag to the floor. His face is pulled into a small frown as he enters the house and his roommate can’t help but notice. “Everything alright?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Sunwoo hums, nodding at the question. He has 3 assigned roommates– all male, all around his age. Sunwoo’s english isn’t bad, but it also isn’t that great either. He knew that this was going to be one of the main concerns of him moving out abroad, but he figured that the more you encounter the language, the more comfortable you get with it. Due to this, though, the two American boys he rooms with– their names are Josh and Sam– aren’t as close with him. Sunwoo doesn’t really blame them. It’s not like he tried to get close with them anyway. He talks much more with Mark, the one year older boy that’s also Korean, but has been living in the States for years now. The language barrier is nearly nonexistent there, and so he feels much more comfortable.

Not comfortable enough to vent to him about his problems, though. It’s good to share a laugh with Mark when they eat breakfast together in the kitchen, but he won’t go on and talk his ear off about his homesickness, for example. Sunwoo wouldn’t talk to him about the weird, unsettling feeling in his gut whenever he takes the bus or walks down the street, not recognising every face he encounters like he did back home, in his small town. He won’t tell Mark Lee about how much he misses Korea– he’s sure the boy has his own things to worry about. Besides, it’s not like Mark talks about personal stuff with him either. After four days of living here, he can’t say their relationship got to the level of going deep with their personal lives.

And so, Sunwoo walks up the stairs in silence, not giving Mark more information about his mood. Each step up hurts, since the training is twice as demanding as it used to be at home, making his muscles sore and his back hurt terribly from the stone hard mattress in the bed of his new home. He is willing to endure it, but he also has the terrific need to complain about it to anyone that would be willing to listen.

He should start writing a diary, he thinks as he stares up on the ceiling, chewing on the inside of his cheek. It sounds good enough to channel his feelings out into while also not being a bother to anyone else. Besides, he doesn’t want anyone to know that he’s having a hard time here in Boston. This was all his decision, his dream, and sometimes, things are going to get difficult. And that’s okay. Sunwoo just… feels like he lacks the support system he once had back home in Korea. Like someone took it from between his fingertips, forcefully kept it away from him, locked somewhere miles away. Maybe the person who did that to him was himself all along…

Which is why he doesn’t deserve to whine about the fact that he feels terribly lonely. He did this to himself. All him.

If he had a diary, he’d write about the terrible mattress first, he thinks. Then, the weird weather around here– it’s always hot, but not humid. It doesn’t rain as much. He kind of misses the rain.

If he had a diary, he’d write about how he misses his old coach. The high school coach that always made sure the game was fun, yet productive. He misses his teammates as well. Their team never did big things, but he felt like they were some sort of a family. They knew each other well on the field. They had chemistry. They had fun.

He’d write about how he misses his annoying little sister. How he wishes she would appear in the doorway of his room and talked to him about the stickers she still collects, or dragged him to make another friendship bracelet together. How he feels bad for leaving her all alone back home, even though he was never the one to share his brotherly love for her so outwardly growing up. He feels a sort of appreciation for her that he didn’t quite understand when they were little. They are right when they say your sibling is your first best friend after all.

He’d write about the second best friend he’s ever made, Eric. He’d write about how he longs for his presence, his encouraging words. His funny remarks, the pranks he’d pull on him. How he always appreciated him being just across the street, how he enjoyed growing up with him by his side.

He’d write about how much he misses you– perhaps the most out of everyone. There aren’t many words he could use to describe how much he wishes for your presence, and so he thinks the pages filled with sentences directed to you would be rather sparse, and it makes him kind of sad to think about. In his mind, you deserve novels written about you. You deserve love letters and poems and essays filled with every little detail of your existence. Maybe if Sunwoo loved you less, he would be able to talk about it more.

When his eyes go out of focus staring at the ceiling, Sunwoo decides to call you. It’s been 4 days since he arrived and he hasn’t spoken to you since you waved him off to the airport. His mother drove him and you couldn’t go to send him off at the gate, but Sunwoo almost thinks he prefers the fact that you only said goodbye to him in front of his house. It would be that much harder if he saw your face the last thing before boarding the plane.

For the last four days, he’s been slowly settling in, taking in the new country and the new environment. He’d say he was just too busy to call, but that would be a lie.

He was just scared to hear your voice. Terribly.

What if you changed your mind? What if you no longer want to stay with him? What if it’s too hard to handle? And Sunwoo knows it’s hard– hell, it’s the most difficult thing he’s ever done– but all he wishes is for you to keep handling it well. To keep his heart in your hands gently, like you always have, sending him your energy.

He figures that if there’s one thing that can help his growing homesickness, it is to hear your voice.

Sitting up from his bed and walking over to the bag he carried with him through the airport and kept with him on the plane, he scrambles through the item to find the piece of paper you forced into his hand on the driveway of his house.

“We changed our landline yesterday, so call me on this number when you get there,” you said, pressing a kiss towards his cheek before you let him get into his mother’s car. Sunwoo promised to call back then– he hopes you don’t mind the delay. Maybe he could blame the timezones…

Hand thrusting into the front pocket of the bag, Sunwoo feels around and tries to fish out the little piece of paper. He’s 100% certain he put it there after he got into the car with his mum, making sure it’s safe and sound. He would hate to lose it– it was some sort of safety net for him. Something to fall back to, something to keep him above the water.

Panic settles in his chest when he doesn’t feel the soft piece of paper anywhere. The boy unzips all other compartments of the bag, turning it around, shaking out everything that’s inside. The phone number to your new landline has to be there somewhere in there. It needs to be.

When he doesn’t find it in his bag, he opens his closet. He throws everything out to the ground– his clothing, his shoes, the notebooks he bought for university– all in the search of the stupid, little, yet so important piece of paper. He searches through all his other bags. All pockets of his jeans, every centimeter of his folded clothing. All drawers of his desk, the whole floor, hell, he even crouches to check under his bed, blowing the dust bunnies out of reach, desperately hoping he could wish the paper into existence. He searches his bed. All possible parts where the landline number could be– some more unreasonable than others. Sunwoo feels like he is losing his mind.

The paper is nowhere in his room. It’s like it vanished. Was it really there at all? Did he dream that moment up?

Running down the stairs towards the landline, he takes the phone off the wall and punches in the numbers to your old landline, the pattern so familiar in his fingertips he couldn’t tell you the number if you asked, but he could recreate it with punching in the buttons in on any other phone in the world. He clenches his fist together, breathing more heavily as he listens in, praying for the universe to stop playing tricks on him and make you magically answer on the other side.

When the phone makes a dismissive sound, signaling that the number he called no longer exists, Sunwoo shuts the phone against the wall and takes it again, putting in your old number once more, like a summoning ritual. Maybe he put the numbers in wrong the first time… Maybe he made a mistake somewhere along the way…

When he gets the same response, he tries again. And again. And again.

He can’t believe it. Tension settles into his shoulders, making him twirl the cord of the landline in between his fingers as a way to calm himself down, listening in to the dull noise on the other side telling him there’s nothing that can be done, nothing more that he can do. He doesn’t have the number, and somehow, although it sounds foolish, it feels like he lost you alongside it too.

“Everything alright, man? You look–” Mark enters the room, peering at the boy with curious, worried eyes. It’s only now that Sunwoo realizes he is breathing heavily, fingers clammy on the cord, heart begging to run out of his chest to get all across the ocean to you. It’s only now that he realizes his cheeks are wet with tears, the solidification of his inner turmoil taking a physical form and appearing on his face, making him feel pathetic in front of the older boy.

Sunwoo once again puts the phone back to its original place, but this time, he doesn’t take it back and tries the useless old phone number again. Simply turning away from his roommate, he accepts his fate as he quickly puts on his shoes and slams the door shut after him, going out for a run.

Is this his punishment for waiting too long? Did the paper vanish out of his possession because he was deemed unworthy of hearing your voice? Should he have tried to look for the number earlier? Would this have prevented it?

It’s hard to run when your nose is stuffed and your breathing hitches with silenced sobs, he learns. Sunwoo doesn’t get as far as he would have liked, crumbling on a bench somewhere next to a playground, picking at the dry skin of his lips until they bleed and the irony taste on his tongue snaps him back into reality.

What was once his dream is starting to feel more like a nightmare. When he calls Eric two days after to ask him to get him your new landline number, he gets the news that you abruptly moved out to New York.

September 2007

“If you really think about it, Y/N,” Sunwoo hums, making you shift your attention towards his serious-looking face, “we never really broke up in the first place.”

The boy is holding a bottle of cider in his hand, one of the four you got on your way to your tonight’s destination. Sunwoo rang the bell to your house a few minutes before 10 PM, and although you weren’t expecting to see him that day and you weren’t even looking as presentable as you’d like, you agreed to take a walk with him. Somehow, the two of you found yourselves climbing over the fence of your old high school, sneaking into the football field, figures settling on one of the benches of the tribune.

“Oh yeah,” you hum, lightness evident in your tone, “you just never called. What’s up with that, by the way?” you ask, snickering when you watch the male avert his gaze in a bashful manner, as if he was embarrassed to tell you his reasoning.

You take a sip of the apple cider, enjoying the sweet, fruity taste on your tongue, watching as the male contemplates his next response for a bit, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “I lost your new landline number,” he peeps, voice barely louder than a whisper.

His answer doesn’t register immediately in your brain. The words take a moment to string themselves together into a sentence, taking another few seconds before you understand the meaning of his confession. A soft laugh drags out of your throat, disbelief coating your very essence. “What?”

“Yeah,” he nods, scratching the back of his neck before looking back at you, eyes full of guilt and shame, “I… I lost the number you gave me, and when I called Eric to try to make him get me your new number, he told me you moved to New York, and I guess… I guess I took it as a sign…?” he says, shrugging.

“A sign of what?” you ask, genuinely surprised to hear his answer.

All this time, you thought he didn’t call because he didn’t want to. You thought he didn’t call because he was too busy, too tired to deal with anything else other than his career at the moment. He was trying his hardest and training every day, so you understood that he wouldn’t have time for you every day. When he didn’t call for so long, even after you moved to the States as well– you hoped he’d somehow try searching for your number even then, because in your mind, everything was possible– one day, you just… stopped waiting for him to call. You stopped hoping you would hear his voice on the other side of the line.

And you accepted it. He realized long distance relationships were too difficult to maintain, especially in that time and age, and he had too many of his own worries to take care of before focusing his attention somewhere else. You didn’t resent him, no. You longed for him, you missed him, but you never once hated him for the decision he made. You wished him well, all this time.

“A sign that… that maybe we weren’t meant to be,” he hums, shrugging. “It sounds stupid, really, but…” he trails off, cutting himself off in the middle of the sentence.

Something about his confession makes you feel a bit lighter. Your shoulders feel like there’s no longer anything weighing them down. It’s not like you waited for an explanation all those years and when you finally got one, something in you shifted into a more comfortable position.

“For me, back then, you were the right person, wrong time. And I didn’t want to let you go, I really didn’t, it’s just… everything was already so hard and the world seemed to put so many obstacles in my way of contacting you, that I thought it was the universe telling me to drop it and let you go. So you could… so you could find someone else, I guess…” he finishes explaining. He averts his gaze from you, pointing it towards the empty field, as if scared to see your reaction to his blabbering. He takes another few sips of his cider, snickering. “It wasn’t fair of me to want you to wait for me either.”

So you could find someone else… You think back to all the times you went on dates after you concluded that your relationship with Sunwoo was over. You try to remember their faces, their mannerisms in such detail that you could only make up one of your previous lovers– the one sitting next to you right now– and you chuckle at your foolishness. Remembering how you kept comparing every new person in your life to the one that stole your heart first, remembering how you thought about him late at night, wondering where he is right now and how he’s doing. You used to look through the sports parts of newspapers, looking for his name somewhere, looking for his team name, but never seeing a glance of how he was doing. You wore the stupid friendship bracelet he gave you in your junior year around in New York, having people point it out and ask about it, all until it broke off by itself one day and you reluctantly said goodbye to the sentiment.

You dated around after losing contact with Sunwoo. You don’t really think you found someone else, though.

“I wanted to wait for you, though,” you say, shuffling closer to the male on the bench, voice sincere. “It was my decision.”

“Well,” he chuckles, “life had other plans for us two.”

His sentence makes you think. A few days ago, it would make you sad. Embarrassed, even. Life had other plans for you two and they didn’t align with what you two have calculated during the summer break after your senior year. Sunwoo didn’t become a star. His football career never took off. He finished his degree and came back home, bitter and heartbroken.

Your plans ended just as fast as you came up with them. Not going to university after high school, you were left with nothing to do. When the opportunity to take an internship for a news company in New York came to you so suddenly, you took it without thinking, trying to find your place in the big world ahead of you. You had no plan, but you think that maybe, some part of you wanted to get away from your hometown all along. You wanted to do big things, make everyone proud. Being a news anchor wasn’t even something you dreamed of when you were little, so you guess you weren't supposed to really feel that let down, but the defeat still stings.

Or, at least, it used to. You find that the failure doesn’t hurt as much anymore.

Looking at the male next to you, you think you know the reason why. “It’s okay,” you say, shrugging, “we figured it out anyways, didn’t we?”

“Yeah,” Sunwoo sighs, looking at you with a soft smile playing with his lips. “I guess we did.”

The sound of cicadas hits your ears when you two fall into a comfortable silence. Healing old wounds was surely one of the items on your check list when you came back home, but you didn’t expect to get over things so quickly. You don’t think you would have been able to get over everything alone, though– and this makes you twice as grateful to still have Sunwoo by your side. A sense of nostalgia takes over you at the fact, but this time, it hits you with more fondness than longing for the old times.

“Remember how young we were? It’s like I still see you chasing the ball around the field when I focus hard enough,” you say, pointing ahead of you.

Sunwoo laughs, shaking his head at your antics. “Yeah. I almost see you leading the cheer practice in the back there,” he points, “in your cute cheer uniform, with the ridiculous pom poms in your hands–”

“Hey, don’t call them ridiculous,” you gasp, “they were my favorite part of the whole routine!”

“Oh, I could tell,” he laughs, poking fun at you.

“Well, you must have liked the pom poms enough to stare at me during practice all the time,” you shrug, teasing the male back. The fact that Sunwoo had a crush on you long before you reciprocated the feelings wasn’t something you two explicitly talked about before, but you always deemed as clear as day. Or, at least, it was to everyone back then.

“I did not–” he gasps, making you gently shove him with your elbow.

“Come on, everybody used to say you had a crush on me back then,” you hum, “you were pretty obvious with it too.”

“You knew?” he looks at you, eyes big and surprised. Gears clearly running in his head, he tries to piece the information together, running through the memories now so distant, but still so clear.

“Girls always know,” you point out, shrugging. You take another sip of your cider, licking your lips after and speaking up again, tone of voice almost confidential. “I just acted like I didn’t. But then I realized I liked you back, so I was trying everything in my power to make you confess to me first. Which… took you long enough, young man,” you giggle, seeing the male shake his head at you in disapproval.

“You could’ve confessed first, if you were so confident,” he mutters, obviously a little gutted by the revelation.

“That would be below my level,” you nod, pressing your lips together into a straight line, “besides, it was fun watching you act all cute and clueless.”

“Don’t call me cute and clueless–”

“That’s what you were, though! Like the time when you got super drunk on your birthday and begged me not to leave–”

“I didn’t even like you back then!”

“Sure you didn’t.”

“I was in denial,” he furrows his brows theatrically, putting the empty glass bottle to the grass, “but I see that you had a lot of fun watching me suffer.”

“Fine, pretty boy,” you say, catching a glimpse of the boy momentarily shying away, presumably at the endearing nickname, his cheeks tinting pink even in the faint moonlight. “Would it make you feel better if I confessed first this time?”

“Huh?” the boy asks, lips parted, eyes a big, honest pool of honey.

Cute and clueless, you think.

The story comes full circle when you realize that this football field is perhaps what started it all. This is where you ran up to the new addition to the team, saying that your favorite number was on the back of his jersey. As the leader of the cheerleading team, you took it as your job to make every newbie feel welcomed– no matter if they were a fellow cheerleader or a football player. You didn’t expect for the boy to never stop wearing the number– although it was your favorite, it didn’t seem to be so important back then. (One day, you learned that Sunwoo kept the number on his jersey even after moving abroad. You read it in one of the sports magazines you foolishly flipped through in every kiosk you encountered and almost teared up in the busy store after.)

This field is where you watched him play football every week. It’s where you both practiced, sending each other funny faces after the coach was mean to either of you for not being focused on your training.

This is where Sunwoo found his passion– where he found his dream. This is the place that shifted the next couple of years of your life towards all sorts of directions. This is where he kissed you after winning a match, a gleeful confession slipping past his lips. This is where your relationship started, and metaphorically, also ended. The field that kept you apart is now a thousand miles away, but the one that brought you together is now right in front of you.

You guess it’s only right to use it for new beginnings.

“I think… I think I’m still in love with you, Sunwoo,” you start slowly, playing with your fingers in your lap, “well, I don’t know if my feelings for you ever ended… they could’ve, I mean, we were apart for so long… I just… all I know is that I don’t want us to be apart anymore, and I–”

Your words die on your tongue when the boy cuts you off with a kiss, the taste of apple cider mixing on your lips. The way he kisses you didn’t really change even after so many years, still swaying you with the familiarity of his loving. Still, even though you know the way he angles your jaw, the way he presses against you, the way he takes his sweet time, truly showing you how much he enjoys the act, you never grow tired of it. Something in you reacts the same way as when you were young. There’s still excitement, there’s still tender softness in your heart every time you kiss him.

His lips break apart from yours, a playful tint in his words when he speaks to you again. “Don’t try to take credit for it now,” he says, “because the last time I checked, we never really broke up in the first place, so you could say we were dating all along, all because I confessed back in–”

“God, you’re unbelievable,” you grunt.

“But you love me,” the boy says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Maybe it is.

“Always have,” you say, pressing a quick peck to his plush lips, “always will.”

The starlight glazes your cheekbones when you rest your forehead against his, as if to send him a telepathic message that is worth more than a thousand words. It’s hard to find the words to explain the mixture of your emotions right now, but when your memory washes up the encouraging monologue Sunwoo offered to you when you first arrived, you finally agree with his sentiment. Perhaps, one word could summarize it all– you feel truly content.

They say you never forget about your first love. At 25 and still counting, you guess you could say that’s true.

#deoboyznet #sunwoo #the boyz #sunwoo fluff #sunwoo x reader #sunwoo angst #the boyz angst #the boyz fluff #the boyz x reader #the boyz scenario #the boyz imagine #sunwoo scenario #sunwoo imagine

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heliads · 5 months

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Hi! Hi! I have been reading your Eric Coulter fics and I don't know if you're still into Divergent but i can i request a eric coulter x fem!reader where they go from rivals to lovers and literally everyone in Dauntless has bets on them to be together?

'rumors of rivals' - eric coulter

masterlist

Four’s got another pet project, but for once, it isn’t you.

It’s a habit of his, one he’d do best to kick. Although Four may like to keep his indifferent silence and pretend as if he were a shallow-hearted Dauntless through and through, he’s got a soft spot for the people he likes. He’s got a knack for finding similar souls and winning them over, even as he acts as if he couldn’t care less about any of you. He did this while you were an initiate, and now he’s repeating the process with one of his new trainees, a girl named Tris.

Since you don’t work the initiates, you haven’t yet had the pleasure of meeting Tris Prior, although you’ve heard Four talk about her often enough that you have a good gauge of her likes, dislikes, and every single conversation she’s had with your friend. For someone who claims that he couldn’t care less about anyone but himself, Four’s awfully attentive to Tris.

It makes you laugh, both when he’s around and not. Despite Four’s claims otherwise, it seems that even the toughest of Dauntless fall victim to their hearts every now and then. Despite Four’s claims otherwise, that’s one test you won’t be failing. Four may have fallen in love, but not you. Not a chance. The only decent one around here is Four, and he’s clearly besotted with Tris. No other men even come to mind.

Four and Tris catch up to you, and he begins the introductions. “Y/N, this is Tris, the initiate I’ve been talking about. Tris, this is Y/N. She’s a good friend of mine.”

Tris smiles at you. “It’s nice to meet you, Y/N. Four has said a lot of good things about you.”

You laugh. “It can’t be more than what he’s said about you, trust me. I think all of our conversations are now about you.”

Tris laughs too, evidently surprised at your camaraderie. “I’m sure he’ll argue with that, but I’m glad to hear it. I have to say, I knew what to expect from a Dauntless Leader, but you’re way nicer than I expected.”

You grin. “Oh, trust Four to talk up my reputation. We’re not all totally dramatic around here.”

Four rolls his eyes. “Yeah, right. As if you’re not locked in one of the worst rivalries Dauntless has ever seen.”

Tris widens her eyes, curious. “What are you talking about?”

You fold your arms across your chest. “Four doesn’t mean anything because he doesn’t know what he’s saying. There’s nothing there.”

Four scoffs. “Of course there’s something there. Tris, Y/N’s just denying it because she’s too embarrassed to admit that she’s totally obsessed with beating Eric at everything.”

Tris claps a hand to her mouth. “Wait, I know what you’re talking about. Everyone in the faction has been gossiping about Eric and one of the other Leaders. You don’t mean that–”

“Yes,” you admit reluctantly. “The rumors are about me. They’re just jokes, though. Nothing to take seriously.”

Four arches a brow doubtfully. “Of course they’re not.”

You swat him in the shoulder. “Anything more on the subject and I’ll push you off a roof, Four. Watch your tone.”

Instead of taking your threat seriously, Four just cracks a rare grin and keeps his triumphant silence. In all honesty, he’s not wrong about the gossip, and neither is Tris. You have been rivals with a certain Eric Coulter for most of the time you’ve been at Dauntless, if not all of it, and beating Eric at anything from a fight in the ring to glowing recommendations from the other Dauntless Leaders does indeed make your day like nothing else.

At this point, there’s nothing you can do to stop it. There’s no way you could ever like Eric, he makes it impossible to so much as smile around him. He’s insufferable, that’s all, and he always has been.

You remember that from the very first day you arrived. Eric had been through initiation a year before you, so of course he swaggered about the faction like he knew everything and you knew nothing at all. It didn’t matter that you mastered every challenge that initiation set before you, it didn’t matter that, at the end of your training, you came out with the highest rank. No matter what, Eric would always boast that he’d done it better when he was an initiate. And, since the two of you weren’t in the same year, there was no way of proving him right or wrong.

Once you graduated initiation, your ill-fated relationship only took a turn for the worse. Both of you were gunning for positions as Dauntless Leaders, and did everything in your power to claw to the top. It was a common assumption that only one Leadership position would be vacated, meaning that one of you would succeed and one of you would do the worst thing possible for a Dauntless: you would fail.

Instead, both of you were appointed as new Leaders, and now you’re forced to spend even more time with him than before. Eric is more hands on, especially with his new position as an initiation leader, whereas you’re more devoted to strategy and all the ways to keep Dauntless as a faction running as smoothly as possible. The two of you clash whenever you so much as step into a room together.

Over time, this rivalry has drawn the attention of the entire faction. There’s hardly a soul in Dauntless that hasn’t witnessed the two of you going for each other’s throats at some point. Last you heard, some faction members were even going so far as to place bets as to when the two of you would get together, but that’s absurd. You and Eric hate each other. There’s simply no way you’d actually manage to get over your mutual loathing to fall in love.

“He’s an unpredictable asshole, I don’t know what else you want me to say,” you growl to Four.

Instead of being answered by your friend, however, a new voice joins you, one that makes you want to put your fist through a wall. “Are you talking about me again, L/N? I’m touched.”

Four and Tris exchange some interesting glances, which you definitely don’t appreciate. You turn to glower at none other than Eric, who’s somehow emerged out of the throngs of Dauntless milling about to appear right by your side. It’s as if he was summoned from your mere thoughts alone.

“So you heard me talking about an unpredictable asshole and immediately assumed it was you? That’s lovely, I didn’t know you had such great self-esteem.” You hiss.

Eric just grins. “You’re always so kind to me. Truly, it makes my day.”

You glance to your opposite side, hoping to deflect onto Four, but you notice that he and Tris have somehow disappeared into the crowds again, leaving you alone with Eric. You’ll have to chide him about abandoning you later, once you manage to shake Eric again.

Eric notices the changing subject of your attention and chuckles. “They left already? Can’t say I blame them.”

“Neither can I,” you fire back. “Having to spend time with you isn’t something I’d wish on my worst enemy.”

“See, that’s the difference between the two of us,” Eric intones, holding up a finger appreciatively as he speaks, “There’s no punishment I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. It’s because I’m capable of doing anything to eliminate those who would rise against me. It’s what makes me a better Dauntless. I’m not surprised that you lack the courage.”

You groan in annoyance. “It’s a saying, Coulter. Goodness, I see why you’re not an Erudite. Critical thinking is not your strong suit.”

Unfortunately, Eric doesn’t seem particularly affected by this insult. “I’ll leave the critical thinking to you, L/N. The glory of battle is mine as always.”

You arch a brow. “Remind me who kicked your ass the last time we met in the ring? I’m sure the glory of battle was totally on your side then, too.”

Eric’s voice turns razor-sharp. “How about a rematch, then? Tonight. That is, if you can’t manage to talk yourself out of facing me again.”

You stop walking, meeting Eric’s eyes dead on. “I wouldn’t dream of it. Scared?”

“Not a chance,” he fires back. “I’ll see you then.”

With that, he stalks off, leaving you fuming yet again. You could name a hundred encounters that have taken place exactly like this one. It’s strange, you’ve always prided yourself on your control of your temper, but something about Eric Coulter just drags out every bit of irritation and passion from your heart.

Glancing around, you see that more than a few people have turned to look at you and Eric as you passed by, and are now whispering to each other. “Shut up,” you mutter at no one in particular, but it doesn’t seem to do anything to stop the flurry of gossip.

Great, now you’ll have another rumor to add to the mix. As if you needed any more. Grimacing to yourself, you set off again. You’ll be looking to tonight’s fight with Eric, if not for a release of anger than anything else. It would feel good to beat him up again, you decide, and it’s about time his ego got knocked down a peg or two.

Eric is waiting for you in the empty gym when you let yourself in later that night. The two of you arrive at the same time whenever one of you challenges the other to a fight. It’s become a sort of tradition. You know exactly when and where to find each other because you’ve done it so often. It comes to you like breathing, like living. Instinctive, intuitive. You and Eric may not see eye to eye on most subjects, but in the ring, it’s like he’s your double.

You and Eric face each other warily on the ring. There’s no one else here, not after hours, so the entire gym is empty. Even the smallest of sounds are amplified by the solitude, each shuffle of your feet from side to side sending ripples of echoes up to the high ceiling before bouncing back down again, creating ghosts of your every movement. The lights are dim. The shadows lengthen Eric’s already numerous tattoos, making him look as if the darkness could swallow him up entirely if you were to turn away for even one moment.

You lunge first, mostly as a feint to get his attention. At your level of fighting experience, both of you know better than to truly attack first. Eric aims a blow at your midsection, but you duck just in time, dropping low to kick his legs out from under him. Briefly, Eric loses his balance, but manages to regain it in time to send a returning strike your way.

On and on, the fight progresses, the tide rolling from you to him back to you again in an endless circle. Eric manages to pin you first and huffs out a triumphant breath, but you get him the next round. You’ve spent enough nights like this that every move seems familiar. Although the precise victor of the fights may switch off from night to night, the actions themselves have been done so many times that it feels like muscle memory.

You’re sure it’ll be a night just like any other, but then something strange happens when Eric wins again. Both of you have ended up on the surface of the mat, and after briefly striving for the upper hand, Eric manages to make it there first, and he swings his weight over you, pinning you to the ground. His hands lock your wrist onto the mat like cuffs. You try to throw him off again, but it doesn’t work, and the two of you rest there, panting from the exertion, but worst of all, looking at each other.

You wait for Eric to move off of you and begin the cycle again, but strangely enough, he doesn’t. Instead, Eric looks, he looks at you like he’s never seen you before in his entire life. You feel as if you couldn’t move a muscle, and lie there perfectly still. One twitch of a limb, one wrong breath, and he might react, or worst of all, leave. You don’t know why, but you know for certain that shattering this moment would destroy you both.

Slowly, carefully, Eric releases his hold on your arms, but you don’t swing at him. The erratic rise and fall of his chest has slowed as easy breath returns to him, but when he had held you down moments ago, you could still feel his pulse thundering in his veins, tumultuous and irreverent like the clash of a thunderstorm.

“Y/N,” Eric whispers, low in his throat and urgent. You don’t know what to say. You’re not sure that there is anything to say, not without giving something away, a secret so terrible and all-consuming that to utter it aloud would use up all of you, leaving nothing behind but the ghost of a person who had once been you.

He’s waiting. For what, you don’t know. Or, you don’t want to know. Both of you are on a precipice, the edge tall and mighty, but unlike the roof back at the entrance to Dauntless initiation, you do not know that the fall won’t kill you. You could survive this jump, sure. But you could also break your bones in the leaping, and come out of this a ruined version of someone who had thought they knew everything about Eric Coulter, and then learned otherwise.

The indecision is too great, and so you do something utterly befitting someone of your station, and you run. Eric doesn’t move when you suddenly slip out from under him, nor does he stop you when you leave the gym. It isn’t a Dauntless move to flee from a fight, but then again, you transferred here from your home faction in the Choosing Ceremony, so the habits of the brave haven’t been instilled in you completely. You still, it seems, have a lot to learn.

The walk back to your apartment seems treacherous. There aren’t that many people out at this time of night, but you swear that of those who remain, every eye is on you. Haven’t you heard the rumors? Isn’t it true that these people have guessed what you are when it comes to Eric Coulter? If they see you, they will know.

You crawl into your bed and hope for sleep, but nothing comes. You stare at your ceiling in the dark, wondering what you’ve done. You’ve claimed to hate Eric for a very long time, but the way you felt in that ring, with him looking down at you– None of that was hate. You haven’t felt an absence of anger like that in such a long time that you’ve almost forgotten how to name that emotion entirely.

You get up the next morning, exhausted and confused, and complete your daily duties in somewhat of a haze. Every one of your moves feels mechanical. Eric is busy with the initiates, so your paths shouldn’t cross. When he finds you later that day, then it must mean that he sought you out intentionally. You’re not sure if that’s for better or worse.

You do your best to shake him, but he tracks you down eventually, pulling you into an empty room and shutting the door behind him. “Y/N,” he says urgently. “We should talk about last night.”

You don’t want to, not when the way he says your name reminds you of the way he’d whispered it last night, soft and careful, none of the things you have ever associated with Eric. It wasn’t as torturous as you expected, being alone with him without a fight to separate you. In fact, if you weren’t on guard, you would even admit that you liked it.

When you remain silent, Eric sighs, frustration beginning to tinge back into his breath again. “I know something happened. We can’t just pretend otherwise.”

You glance back up at him. “Can’t we?” You ask. “We can go back to fighting all the time. I’m sure it would come easily to both of us.”

You’ve become an expert at provoking him over the years, but now, in the face of all your attempts, Eric’s gaze remains neutral. “Is that what you want?”

Yes, you start to say, but for some reason the words dry up in your throat and the only thing that comes out is a terrible, awful exhale, “No.”

Eric hasn’t let go of your hand since he pulled you into this room. He seems to remember it now, his thumb rubbing light circles back and forth against your wrist. “Neither do I. Turns out, the only thing I like better than fighting you is when we aren’t fighting at all.”

You’ve never understood it when people say their heart skipped a beat, but you feel it now, the stuttering of desperate hope locked between your ribs. “So– you want–”

“You, Y/N,” Eric interrupts. “I want you. I always have.”

When he kisses you, it tastes like victory. Hot, brave, triumphant. A thousand nights undefeated in the ring couldn’t light you up with a fire half this bright. Sometimes, the rumors are true, and sometimes, the very man you thought was your greatest rival was instead your best love. Eric is all of these things, but most importantly, he is yours.

requested by @simoneashwinis, i hope you enjoy!

divergent tag list: @dindjarinneedsahug, @poisonmenegan, @ozzynka, @rogueanschel, @with-inked-solace, @gods-fools-heroes, @23victoria, @manyfandomsfanvergent, @imwaysthelastchoice, @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed, @crazyhearttragedy, @alexs-1967s-blog, @aoi-targaryen

all tags list: @wordsarelife

#eric coulter #eric coulter imagines #eric coulter x reader #eric coulter oneshot #divergent #divergent imagines #divergent x reader #divergent oneshot #dauntless #dauntless imagines #dauntless x reader #dauntless oneshot #divergent eric #divergent eric imagines #divergent eric x reader #divergent eric oneshot

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shelbgrey · 11 months

Text

Perfect(Seth Clearwater)

Paring: Cullen!Imprint!Reader x Seth Clearwater

Summary: Seth never expected to turn into a wolf, let alone imprint. But after the new born army Seth imprents on the youngest Cullen. they become love sick puppies and just try to have the time of their lives at Edward's wedding. (sorry for any spelling errors)

Twilight Master list

I found a love, for me

Darling, just dive right in and follow my lead

Well, I found a girl, beautiful and sweet

Oh, I never knew you were the someone waiting for me

Me and Seth hung close together as we walked around the sea of people, Bella and Edward's wedding reception was going off without a hitch. I didn't really want to be here, I hate huge croweds, but it was my big brother's wedding. It also helped I was with Seth.

He knew I didn't really want to do this, so he succeeded at spending the whole making me laugh. During the ceremony we couldn't stop giggling and making jokes about Bella, Sue had to literally sit in between us in the middle of my brothers vows. She found out that separating us wasn't gonna stop us.

This was Seth's first real party and he was always willing to try anything. We were know as the the sweet and innocent couple, we do are best to uphold that name.

“you guys are so cute together” Rose smiled, you knew Seth must be doing something right if someone like Rosalie saw him more as just a 'mutt'.

We tried to run off and get some cupcakes but Rosalie stopped us to get a photo. The first one was sweet but then they started to slowly become unhinged to the point Rose dismissed us. Emmett laughed as we went to sneak some cupcakes behind Alice's back.

'Cause we were just kids when we fell in love, Not knowing what it was. I will not give you up this time

But darling, just kiss me slow

Your heart is all I own

And in your eyes, you're holding mine...

If your wondering I'm the only human in the Cullen family and the only one who has actual documents of Carlisle and Esme adopting me.

I didn't know much about the pack till I befriend Jacob. Dispite my family he had a soft spot for me, I met Seth threw him even. Of course I didn't get to officially meet Seth intill the newborn Fiasco.

What my family nor the pack was prepared for was Seth imprinting on me. Jacob had invited me to a bonfire with the pack and that's when it happened. This of corse cuased some problems with the treaty and all, but with the newborn army coming everyone let it go.

I never felt so happy to have him, I watched my siblings get married and fall in love and I was left by myself, thst was unitll Seth. He had my heart from the start.

Baby, I'm dancing in the dark

With you between my arms

Barefoot on the grass

Listening to our favourite song

When you said you looked a mess

I whispered underneath my breath, But you heard it

Darling, you look perfect tonight...

“come on! Dance with me” I said pulling him towrds the swarm of other couples. Seth laughed and spung me around before pulling me to his chest. I wrapped my arms around his neck and we swayed to the music in a uncoordinated way, we didn't have to dance like Baby and Johnny from Diry Dancing to have fun.

He took my arms and we just kinda playfully bounced around and bumped each other. Things didn't really calm down till a slow song started to play, wonderful tonight by Eric Clapton started to play.

“may I have this dance?” Seth playfully bowed. “you may” he smiled and pulled me to his chest and way slowly swayed to the soft love song.

Well, I found a woman, stronger than anyone I know

She shares my dreams, I hope that someday I'll share her home

I found a lover, to carry more than just my secrets

To carry love, to carry children of our own...

I looked into his chocolate eyes never wanting this to end. We never really had a moment that didn't involve danger, so it was nice to just have a night of fun and laughter.

“have you ever thought about having a wedding?” Seth asked taking my hand in his and twirled me. I smiled softly. “of course, but we're too young to get married” I chuckled.

He smiled. “I know that...I want get a job and a maybe a small house on the res for us before we do all that”

“sounds like a plan” I smiled.

I knew in the future when it came down to either Seth or the family, I would chose Seth. I love my parents and siblings, they gave me a second chance when they adopted me. But then we move all the time and I'm not taking Seth away from his sister and mother.

We are still kids, but we're so in love

Fighting against all odds

I know we'll be alright this time

Darling, just hold my hand

Be my girl, I'll be your man

I see my future in your eyes

“you got somthing on your face” I said to Seth as we were eating the cupcakes we we're not supposed to eat yet.

“where?” he asked licking the frosting off this thumb.

I smiled and wiped the frosting on his nose. “there”

“hey” he laughed and his eyes went crossed to look at his now white nose. He stuck his toung out and tried to get it. I laughed at his failed attempts, he gave me an 'oh yeah?' look and wipped some frosting on my cheek. I laughed and pushed him away.

He stumbled backwards and accidentally bumped into Alice. “sorry Alice” he quickly said. She rolled her eyes.

“you guys aren't supposed to eat those yet and please act your ages” I rolled my eyes, Alice wasn't used to Seth yet but I didn't care what she thought. I would fight Seth for as long as it takes.

“we are acting our ages, we're at the prime of our youth and we only live once” I said smiled big, Seth nodded agreeing.

I ment the 'only live once' because that's what I wanted, as much as I loved my family I want to grow old with Seth and have a happy, normal future with him.

Baby, I'm dancing in the dark,

With you between my arms

Barefoot on the grass

Listening to our favorite song

When I saw you in that dress, looking so beautiful

I don't deserve this... Darling, you look perfect tonight

“have I told you how pretty you look tonight” Seth asked as we walked around the house, the music was getting old so we went somewhere more quiter.

I blushed. “Yes, about a million times” I playfully blumbed his shoulder.

“well it's not enough.. I don't deserve to be in the presents of such beauty” he said in his best medieval voice as he playful bowed to me then pulled me into his arms.

I have faith in what I see

Now I know I have met an angel in person, And she looks perfect...

Everything seemed to be perfect when I was with him and even if we were just 'kids' I couldn't wait for the future... And whatever desserts we can steal behind Alice's back tonight.

#Seth Clearwater #Seth Clearwater x reader #Seth Clearwater imagines #Twilight #New moon #Twilight imagines #Cullen family x reader #leah clearwater #twilight headcanons #Wolf pack #wolf pack x reader #booboo stewart

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gators-aid · 1 month

Text

decode (pt. 5) - toji f. x reader

masterlist

part four | part six

you and toji fushiguro have been in an on-again-off-again relationship all throughout high school. over the summer break after graduation, you find out you're pregnant. too bad toji has already skipped town after your last breakup.

tags: fem!reader, americanized setting, non sorcerer universe, 00's setting, reader is megumi's mom, exes to lovers (eventually), their relationship is toxic rn, not beta read we die like toji :(

wc: 2.9k

Present

“Please make your decision quickly. I think the fuckin’ cops are looking for me.” He says. His voice sounds deeper than you remembered. You thought you had imagined it in the diner, or that his change in tone was a consequence of his anger toward his brother, but there was no denying it here. You glaze over that comment about law enforcement apparently searching for him.

He was leaning slightly out the window of his truck, etching toward you so that you could hear him over the sound of the surrounding traffic. You feel Megumi tug on your jacket, so you look down at where he’s tucked in.

You always knew he looked just like his father, your mind tormented you with that fact every waking moment, but it was hitting you now. Here you had the framework to sit and compare their faces from more than memory alone.

Needless to say, all of the pictures you had of Toji had been destroyed after you found out he left town. All of the clothes he had given you or left in your room had been donated when you moved out of your mother’s house. You had no physical reminders of his existence aside from the child the two of you shared and the golden angel necklace that sat tucked away at the back of your dresser. It was sitting against the back of the drawer, tucked away in a pair of polka dot socks that you never wore. You couldn’t bring yourself to let go of that one.

“Momma, that man is swearing.” Megumi says in his sweet voice. You grimace. Is this how you wanted your son to meet his father? In response, you rub his back and try to muster a smile. “I know, baby.” You whisper to him. “We can talk about swearing later.” Megumi had taken “Don’t say ‘fuck’, you’re only four” to mean, “anyone that swears, including adults, should be chastised.” You would have to redo that lecture.

You really, really shouldn’t get in the truck. You should carry on with your life and pretend that all of this never happened. That Toji isn’t in the flesh in front of you, looking more handsome than you had ever remembered. Looking just like his fucking son. So much like his son that it felt like you were being taunted. He could never deny Megumi again once he saw his face. Even people who weren’t close to you could see the resemblance.

It’s cold, you justify to yourself as you adjust Megumi in your arms and stand up from the bench. We’ll get home quicker, you think as you round the front of his truck towards the passenger side. You’ve run out of excuses by the time you’re opening the door and sliding in his truck.

There are countless reasons why you shouldn’t have even looked up while you heard him call you. For starters, the fact that he just said law enforcement is allegedly in pursuit. He’s been back in your life for less than an hour and you’re already doing stupid shit.

What the fuck. You keep Megumi tucked into your chest tight as you sit down in the truck. Megumi is facing his father, trying to get a read on the man his mother had broken the rules for.

“Okay baby,” You had said to Megumi merely weeks prior, “If a stranger asks you to get in the car with them, what do we say?” You ask him, holding his little hand in yours.

“My momma said no!” He says. The two of you were sitting on your living room floor, with a blanket under you and watching The Little Mermaid on DVD. You had to save costs wherever you could, and those costs did not include cable. After watching Ariel go into Prince Eric’s palace-house within the first couple of hours being a human, you felt it appropriate to give Megumi the kidnapping talk. He takes a bite of the apple you had cut for him earlier.

“And what if the stranger said, ‘I’ll give you Pokemon cards if you get in the car’?” You ask him. “I don’t even like Pokemon anymore!” He says proudly, in response to the hypothetical stranger. “What? Since when?” You asked, slightly horrified that you weren’t as attuned to your 4-year old’s interests as you thought. “Since the stranger asked me, momma.” He replied simply.

This exchange must be very odd for Megumi. You had done your best to raise him right. The best that you could with the resources you had. You tried to teach him hard rules. Don’t talk to strangers, wash your hands before you eat, for the love of god please do not stick forks in the outlets. Now the ‘no strangers’ one was out of the window. It would be tough to explain this. Another lecture to redo.

Toji’s got his eyes on the rearview mirror, looking back at the diner. “Jinichi called the cops on me, the fucking asshole,” He mummers that last part to himself. “So where am I taking you?” Blunt and to the point like always. You give him your address before you could even think about it. Megumi’s tugging on you again to indicate he heard that comment, but you’re slightly out of it.

There’s a big tear that exposes the cushion of the seat you’re on. You had left that there a lifetime ago when you drunkenly stole Toji’s knife and acted out a confrontation between you and a random girl that was hitting on him. That was one of the many nights that ended in laughter instead of tears.

It smells exactly the same, he still uses the black ice scent for the little tree hanging from his rearview mirror. He’s still got his CD collection strapped to the sun visor on the driver’s side of the truck. It’s grown since the last time you saw it, expanding to the passenger side sun visor as well. There’s still a mysterious dark stain that you don’t feel comfortable speculating on the nature of in the floorboard. Evidently, he never managed to get it out.

It’s too much. You have to fight to hold back tears. You had told yourself to never give an ounce to this man again. No tears, no anger, nothing. You had broken that in the diner earlier. It would not happen again.

You should have told him to take you to your mom’s house, so he wouldn’t have any kind of access to you or Megumi. Why would you give him your own address? How fucking stupid.

It’s silent in the truck. You weren’t going to say anything, you might burst into tears if you opened your mouth. You had sat Megumi on your right side, away from Toji. He was pressed in between you in the door so that you wouldn’t have to be any closer to the man than necessary.

You still don’t know if Toji had gotten a look at him yet. You take a moment to study the man. He’s got both hands on the steering wheel, sitting pin-straight in his seat. His eyes are very pointedly on the road, as if he’s trying not to look over. If the whites on his knuckles were indicative, and after spending years with him, you knew they were, Toji had already figured it out.

After that call four years ago, you had a lot of time to ponder Toji’s reaction to you telling him about Megumi. Logically, you knew he was doing what he always did. Avoiding it because he didn’t wanna deal with the prospect of it. The same way he cheated on you to try and get you to run like you should have. The same way he used to pick a fight just to see if that would be your final straw. He denied Megumi because he had some weird psychological avoidance issue.

Emotionally, you couldn’t see it as anything other than him being selfish while you gave your life to your child. Literally, that’s what it was.

You were too busy looking at him to notice you had pulled into your apartment complex.

“Um..” He clears his throat. “Which building do I drop you off at?” Drop you off. You scoff out loud. Of course. He finds out the kid really is his, and he’s avoiding us again.

“The second one.” You say. You don’t know what you expected. For him to immediately pull Gumi into a hug and move in with you within the hour? Yeah fucking right.

“Mama, can I play with the Christmas tree when we get home?” Megumi had asked you as your apartment came into view. ‘Christmas tree’ was one of his favorite games to play, where he got all the pots and pans from the cabinets and stacked them on top of each other to make a “Christmas tree.” It was a very messy game that required you to rewash all of your dishes when you were done, so it was a rule that he had to ask for permission before playing. The game had started when last year, tips were slow and you were late on your electric bill. You had already asked your mom for help that month, and refused to do it again. This, of course, meant that there was no money for a christmas tree. After Megumi’s December birthday and the one christmas present you could afford, you had to find some way to explain to Megumi why he couldn’t have a tree like the one at grandma’s house. “We have a better one.” You had told him, “One that you can play with all year long.”

Needless to say you had cried yourself to sleep that night.

“We’ll see, Megumi.” You say. The truck comes to a stop in front of your building, and without a word you’re grabbing Megumi out of the truck and slamming the door shut. Not a word said to Toji, not even a glance directed his way.

It had started sprinkling rain on your drive over. This morning, your mom had called you to let you know there was a flood warning for the next city over. You usually didn’t take those entirely too seriously, waving her off when she had asked you to bring Megumi and spend the night at her house.

The apartment is two stories tall with stairs on the outside, so you hold Megumi’s hand in yours as you slowly traverse up the stairs. He was skilled enough to walk up them on his own, but after an incident where he took a small fall down them, you were slightly paranoid.

By the time you’re unlocking your apartment door, you notice that you hadn’t yet heard Toji’s truck pull away, so you glance back to see him still sitting there, waiting for you to get inside. For a moment, the two of you lock eyes. You can feel your heart drop as you usher Gumi in the house and close the door behind you. Don’t give him an ounce.

You hope and pray that that is the last time you will ever have to think about Toji Fushiguro. The last time until Megumi gets old enough to realize his last name is different from yours. The last time until he asks you why all his friends in school have two parents and he only has one. The last time until he gets old enough to ask why you and his dad never made it work. Until you have to hold him as he cries and wonders why Toji never wanted him.

You let Megumi play Christmas Tree so you can lock yourself in the bathroom for a moment to compose yourself.

By the time you get Megumi bathed, fed, and ready for bed, it’s eight at night, and the rain outside has been pouring heavily for a couple hours. Gojo had texted you to let you know that the tips had been good that day, but you had a feeling he was lying so he could slip a bit of his parent’s money into what he “owed you.” The diner was never busy on the Monday lunch shift.

You had made spaghetti that night, a common occurrence in your home and something you were grateful Megumi hadn’t gotten tired of yet. Occasionally, you would get the kitchen guys to sneak you a meal in a togo box to offset grocery costs and eat something different every once in a while. Nanami was one of the cooler managers, which was why you were more comfortable asking that Megumi sit in the diner while you worked that day, but he was not one to let free food slide.

The night was surprisingly peaceful once Megumi was distracted by his toys and tonight’s DVD movie, Toy Story, which Shoko had gotten him for his birthday. You were distracted by cleaning every single pot and pan you had after Megumi was done playing with them.

Once the two of you sat down for dinner, the inevitable questions came, and Megumi had asked you about the encounter with Toji earlier that night.

“Mommy, why did those two guys at your job,” he took a breath in between his sentences and spaghetti, “start hitting each other, and then why did you got in one of their cars?”

That was a long conversation about how some brothers (you had let that slip), don’t get along, and how you had already known Toji, though you didn’t say from where or why. Thankfully, Megumi was more curious about why brothers and sisters fight than why his mother got into this random man’s truck. You would definitely have to revisit the “stranger danger” talk.

It’s about 11 at night when you hear a booming knock at your door. It had pulled you out of your “almost-asleep” daze on the couch. You had already put Megumi to bed by then, and were taking a couple hours to yourself before you went to bed too. You prayed the sound hadn’t woken him.

Whoever it is knocks again, this time harder and faster. Now that you have more mental capacity to process that, someone uninvited is knocking at your door at an inappropriate time of night for a single mother, you dash across your living room to grab the baseball bat you keep by the door. You’ve never had to defend yourself and your son in this capacity, and suddenly the adrenaline kicks in, and you squeeze the wooden slugger to center yourself.

The only light in the room is coming from the TV, playing the play menu of Clueless on repeat. You must have been asleep longer than you thought. Hoping not to be seen through your shadow by the window, you slowly crane your neck up toward the peep-hole of your apartment door. What you see is the last thing you expected.

Of course it’s Toji. Of course he wouldn’t just leave you alone. You’re such a fucking idiot.

For a second you contemplate on whether or not you should open the door, but when he bangs again, somehow even louder, you fear that he won’t only wake up Megumi, but the entire apartment complex.

You put the bat back down and unlock the door, pulling it open slowly so that he would only be able to see half of your body from the angle he’s positioned at. He has his hand leaning on the doorframe, and his figure is hunched over to the point he has to lift his head to look you in the eyes. When he does, you realize what this is. He’s drunk.

His eyes are bloodshot red and watery. He’s soaked from head to toe, he had clearly walked through the rain from wherever he was coming from, or stood out in it for so long that he was drenched. He had a bottle of vodka in his hand that wasn’t against the doorframe, hanging precariously from his grasp like he would drop it at any moment. You couldn’t see how much was in it from here, but you knew he had to have drank quite a bit for him to be in this state.

It’s only when he looks you up and down that you realize you’re only in an old t-shirt and underwear. If this were anyone else, you would’ve squirmed under their gaze, maybe ran to go throw something on, but with Toji, as dumb as it sounded, you couldn’t care less.

“What are you doing here?” You ask him.

He says nothing, just looks you up and down again and takes a shot from the bottle.

“Did you drive here?” He nods. Well that’s not fucking good.

You wait for him to say something, to explain why he felt entitled to knocking on your door in the middle of the night soaking wet with nothing to say. Or maybe you’re waiting for him to explain why he left you in the first place without saying a word. Maybe you’re waiting for him to explain why he never even felt the need to come check if Megumi was his. You’re waiting for a lot of explanations. But you don’t get a single one.

In a voice that can only best be described as broken, he softly slurs out, “You… you named him Megumi?”

very... very sorry for the wait. that semester ended up kicking my ass. no excuses i am very sorry D;

if you wanna be off the taglist lmk

comment to be added to the taglist

taglist: @mechalily @nialiuwanderlust @xo-evangeline @ilovebattinson @cherrypieyourface @amaiyasha @erensslut @heyauntieeee @verypeanuttrash @vlsquuu @ryuv1i @tqd4455 @blkmystery @planetlina444 @mimiemie @queendessi24 @just-pure-trash @baji-keisukes-wife @sylvermoon

#jjk x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji x y/n #toji x you #toji fushiguro

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hanniluvi · 7 months

Text

( 🗒️ ) — ADVENT CALENDAR ‘23?!

[ 🎥 ] — open something a little special each day before christmas day … who wouldn’t love these gifts?

unlock a new drabble/fic by soph everyday in december before christmas!

[ 💬 ] — happy early december!! as the weather is starting to get colder, i decided to write a 2023 kpop winter masterlist ! there are many reasons as why i have decided to do this — 1. 2023 is coming to an end 2. i hit 2K+ followers 3. and bc it has officially been a year of hanniluvi (since oct 30 2022), so this is my big present for you all! thank you guys so much for all this love on this account, and i hope you love these little fics you get daily very soon 🫶 + get little spoilers of the titles n everything 👀 !!

POSTING SCHEDULE — starting from dec. 1st to dec. 25 . NO FIXATED TIME POSTS ; I POST WHENEVER I CAN!

STATUS : DISCONTINUED ; REMAINING ONES —> 2024 ?!?!

“ stay in the middle, like you a little ”

[ ★ ] DAY ONE — lovers’ tv [ jungwon ]

[ ☆ ] DAY TWO — hot choco girl [ hanbin ]

[ ★ ] DAY THREE — his beige sweater [ jake ]

[ ☆ ] DAY FOUR — you’re my star [ eric ]

[ ★ ] DAY FIVE — love easily crumbles [ taehyun ]

[ ☆ ] DAY SIX — ugly christmas sweaters [ beomgyu ]

[ ★ ] DAY SEVEN — come on! [ jaehyun ]

[ ☆ ] DAY EIGHT — this is how it feels [ sunghoon ]

[ ★ ] DAY NINE — blurry hearts [ niki ]

[ ☆ ] DAY TEN — warmth for two [ nicholas ]

[ ★ ] DAY ELEVEN — winter without you [ yeonjun ]

[ ☆ ] DAY TWELVE — you’re blushing? [ changmin ]

[ ☆ ] DAY THIRTEEN — not our last goodbye. [ k ]

[ ☆ ] DAY FOURTEEN — (not so) yummy cookies [ soobin ]

[ ★ ] DAY FIFTEEN — ditto! [ harua ]

[ ★ ] DAY SIXTEEN — wanna share? [ leehan ]

[ ★ ] DAY SEVENTEEN — perfect night [ heeseung ]

[ ☆ ] DAY EIGHTEEN — taking care of you [ sunwoo ]

[ ★ ] DAY NINETEEN — last christmas [ taesan ]

[ ☆ ] DAY TWENTY — skater boy [ sunoo ]

[ ★ ] DAY TWENTY ONE — snowball fight? [ zhanghao ]

[ ☆ ] DAY TWENTY TWO — missing snow angel [ hyunjae ]

[ ★ ] DAY TWENTY THREE — crowded [ gunwook ]

[ ☆ ] DAY TWENTY FOUR — that’s us [ chanhee ]

[ ★ ] DAY TWENTY FIVE — be my plus one [ jay ]

( * ) PLEASE NOTE THAT SOME FIC IDEAS / TITLES MAY CHANGE BUT THE IDOLS WOULD MOST LIKELY STAY THE SAME FOR THIS MASTERLIST !

TAGGING PEOPLE IN CERTAIN GROUP TAGLISTS !

—> people in certain taglists will only be tagged in idol works of that group

—> if you wish to be tagged for any group(s) on here or just for the mlist in general, let me know !

ENHA PERM TAGLIST (1) — @flwoie @ixomiyu @haruavrse @shinsou-rii @bearseulgs @ilovewonyo @yenqa @dimplewonie @bubblytaetae @wtfhyuck @ineedaherosavemeenow @ml8dy @starikizs @wonioml @chirokookie @xiaoderrrr @neozon3nha @en-chantedtomeetyou @millksea @enhaz1 @eundiarys @hyeosi @ja4hyvn @judeduartewannabe @j-wyoung @thia-aep @vampcharxter @softpia @officiallyjaehyuns @itsactuallylina @hsheart @sweetjaemss @ahnneyong @hanienie @jwnghyuns @kpoplover718 @jiawji @rikizm @haknom @yeokii @wvnkoi @whoschr @teddywonss @shinunoga-iie-wa @isoobie @skzenhalove @misokei @s00buwu @ox1-lovesick @miercerise @litttlestars @enhapocketz

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southparktexts · 3 months

Note

Enemies to lovers with the main four?

i love this concept so much anon !! thank you !!!

Enemies to lovers w/ main four

Kyle :

- i know damn well you guys became enemies because of grades.

- academic award fights.

- this literally all happened because you two wrote on the same topic but you had one mark more than kyle.

- gave you the biggest side eye

“I can’t believe that THEY out of all people got 100! i got 99 why couldn’t i just get a 100, it was the same topic!”

“…dude. y/n is kinda smart its not that surprising.”

- he complains about you whenever you ‘beat’ him with grades

- you dont even know he got beef with you tbh 😭

- you guys didnt even talk at all, you were just in the same class as him unironically.

- one day, you got paired up with him for a history presentation

- he literally rolled his eyes when he heard that and had a mood when you talked to him.

“so.. ill to information and research and you can summarise my points?”

“yeah. whatever. i don’t care.”

- eventually, after days of the two of you guys doing the project he realised you weren’t that bad of a person.

- i can see, after you guys did your presentation he would ask to be your partner more and you happily accepted

- one day, after having kyle over to do another assignment the two of you went to mcdonald’s together.

- that was probably the first time he talked to you, outside of school work.

- he definitely caught feels for you

- unironically invited you to game night with the main 4

“..dude i thought you hated her.”

“….shes not that bad.”

“I TOLD YOU THAT??”

- definitely got jealous when kenny tried flirting with you.

- after that he unironically got more touchy with you.

- holding hands when you guys hung out after studying maths together.

- one day he asked his dad for advice and he said just to ask you out.

- he did… on text.

- my guy wrote a whole essay on you.

Eric :

- you guys definitely became prank wars enemies. full stop.

- prank wars.

- this definitely started because eric thought it would be funny to put a whopee cushion on your seat

- you saw it before you sat down and he got so fucking pissed.

“WHO DOES THIS BITCH THINK THEY ARE? NOT EVEN SITTING DOWN ON IT. WHAT THE FUCK.”

“fatass it isn’t that personal.”

- from there you and him back to back prank each other.

- ..they got worse as they progressed.

- he put a lot of laxatives and arbys sauce into your lunch once

- in return you put a lot of melatonin into his milk and made him sleep during an exam.

- yall are both fucked up like that 😭

- definitely spends a lot of time thinking how he can prank you and you do the same.

- you’re the only thing on his mind at this point.

“i fucking hate how that BITCH is always one step ahead of me.”

“you gotta admit.. theyre kinda hot..”

“NO KENNY. NO.”

“cartman you talk about them a little too much, its like you like them or something.”

“WHAT?! NO. CMON GUYS.”

“..sure fatass.”

- after stan said that he started questioning his feelings towards you.

- he kinda realised you both are kinda similar in your own fucked up way.

- after that day he made a glitter bomb card with a note inside telling you to meet him at his house.

- you arrived and you guys actually worked out well..

- gradually eric started introducing kenny into the group.

- the three of you started planning pranks on the teacher.

- eventually eric started falling. hard.

- you were always so funny and unique with pranks and he loved that.

- eventually asked you out with a cupcake.

“will you go out with me?”

“hm? yeah sure. ..this cupcake doesn’t have arbys sauce and laxatives in it, does it..?”

Kenny :

- to be honest time !! i personally think you guys wouldn’t be enemies.

- more just mutual annoyance.

- i feel like hes not the type to personally hate someone.

- the only reason he would find you annoying is because you would take the girls when he was trying to flirt with them.

“hey doll.”

“you’re talking to me?”

“oh tammy !! exactly who i was looking for!”

- he gets so annoyed because each time he was trying to talk to them you’d interrupt and drag them away to talk to them.

- one day he was fed up with it but didn’t do anything about it.

“how come y/n knows literally every girl i try to flirt with?!”

“because dude, y/n is cool and popular. their going to know everyone dude.”

“yeah bro.”

“plus they hang around the girls as well”

- after that, you kinda stopped hanging around the girls since they were doing a whole protest about something that you didnt want to be involved with.

- kenny eventually just say you walking around the school, just being yourself.

- he oddly, like it. he liked seeing you act like yourself. not pretend like you did with the girls.

- eventually he invited you to game night with the boys.

- you guys played dnd and had fun!

- after that, kenny would invite you to game night more and you eventually unironically replaced butters.

- you and kenny slowly became close friends and he became more possessive over you.

- one day he had enough of these thoughts about you and just asked you out out of the blue.

“hey y/n! doll!”

“hm? oh hey ken.”

“wanna date?”

“uh sure?”

Stan :

- if im going to be honest.. he doesn’t get enemies, except for craig.

- he definitely gets angry but doesn’t hate you.

- he probably got jealous because of you though, that what ticked him off.

- this is probably right after stan and wendy broke up

- you were wendy’s friend but also being stans.

- he once saw you comforting wendy and he got jealous.

“that backstabbing bitch! y/n is with wendy right now.”

“..dude i thought you said you were over wendy.”

“i- i am but still!”

- complained about you to the boys, slowly he would have something against you.

- since you were also friends with him he would give you a moody response when he replied back.

“how are you holding up, stan?”

“fine. just fine. its not like you care.”

- became more cold and colder.

“god look at y/n over there. at the swings with wendy.”

“dude, why are you looking at y/n so much. do you like them or something.”

“what?? no?”

- he kept looking over at you and he slowly started noticed little details of you.

- how you bite your nails when your shy, how pretty you look when your studyin.. wait.. what..

- slowly started noticing more details about you and since you were friends with him he would hang out with you more.

- became more touchy while you hang out.

- he realised now you were just being nice to both sides. trying to be there for both.

- wrapping his arms around your waist while you two walked together.

- blushing as you talk to him.

- eventually he bottles up all his feels about you and breaks down but in a good way?

- going to your house at 3am, crying as you hold him in your arms on your bed.

“and- and my dad keeps putting all this pressure and me and i love you and its so fucking difficult.”

“i know stan, i know… its alright.. wait. you love me..?”

#kyle broflovski x reader #south park x reader #southpark #southparkheadcannons #southparkimagines #stan marsh x y/n #eric cartman #eric cartman x reader #kenny mccormick #kenny mccormick x reader #mainfour #southparktexts

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hyunniesgirl · 9 months

Text

Call it what you want

Pairing: Hyunjin x fem!reader

Summary: You and Hyunjin were never on the best terms but when you're cheated on and your ex is trying to get you back, Hyunjin does everything he can to prevent it from happening.

Genre: enemies(ish) to lovers, smut, fluff

Words count: 4,038

A/N: all my gratitude and appreciation to my bestie @baby-yongbok who proofread this chapter for me 🩷 thank you so much for the help girly!!!

Warnings for this chapter: gaslight, drinking, mentions of violence, sexual tension, insecure thoughts(if there's anything missing let me know)

Chapter two: Drunk

Previous chapter: shameless

Next chapter: the most precious thing

+18 minors do not interact!!!

You couldn't sleep a wink thinking about the whole situation. ‘Is there something wrong with me?’ Is the only thing that comes to mind when you think about your love life.

You're just so angry and not just because you were cheated on. You can't believe you got so worked up after kissing Hyunjin and his reaction was nearly nonexistent? NOTHING?

Of course you didn't expect it to be the best kiss of his life, he was doing you a favor after all but you got pretty excited and he didn't even get flustered? That's kinda offensive.

After your break up, Eric tried talking to you at school so your friends came up with a system so he wouldn't bother you until you felt ready to face him. You found out after a week that someone filmed Ryujin and Changbin beating the shit out of your ex after you left the party and that made you feel pretty satisfied, it's nice knowing that your friends have your back. So that's the reason he doesn't try getting close to you when your friends are around. Now you are never alone, you always have one of your friends in one of your classes and because you're finishing your course you could choose some electives that overlap with theirs. And luckily most of your class courses are with Chaeryeong.

The problem and the reason why you're so mad is that Hyunjin is sticking around too much, more than he ever did. He is always around the exact friend that's having class with you and you're starting to think that he's doing it on purpose. You’ve had to deal with seeing his disgustingly handsome face every fucking day and it’s been nothing but torture considering the kiss and all of its aftermath. Almost a month has passed since you and Eric broke up. The day after you told him to fuck off, you unblocked his contact just to inform him things were over between you two if it wasn't already pretty obvious.

After communication class you were pretty exhausted, so you and Changbin went to the cafe in front of the school so that you could repay him with a drink of his choice for going out of his way to help protect you from your ex. That's when Hyunjin comes barging into the shop. Why does he always look like he's glowing? He's wearing perfectly fitted clothes as if they were custom made just for him, his hair falls in glamorous waves, it's longer than most men wear but it's just right for him. Long story short: he's hot. You have to admit it and it's really annoying, actually. Why does the guy you dislike have to be so stunning?

"Hey", he says, taking his sunglasses off, bumping fists with Changbin and nodding at you in an attempt to greet you.

"I'm going to order, I'll get yours", he says, seeing the pager light up and buzz on the table.

He asks for a large Iced Americano and the attendant gives him your order. He sees that there's some writing on the coffee sleeve of your drink.

"Hey, saw you and thought you're cute. If you want to hang out sometime, call me: xxx xxxx-xxxx" Hyunjin scoffs, his jaw clenching. He tears the paper apart and throws it in the trash before heading back over to you and Changbin.

"They forgot to put a cup sleeve on mine", you say pouting as you take the drink from Hyunjin's hands. He finds you so cute it's difficult not to smile.

"I can get an extra when I get my order", he suggests and you frown, a strange urge to accept his kindness but you're too proud for that.

"No need, it's not that hot." That’s a lie, it is really hot, but you don't want to accept his help.

"I'm going to meet Chaeryeong, so you can wait for the drink with him, Binnie." You say as you put your bag on your shoulder and wave goodbye. Hyunjin's eyes follow you as you leave, watching you until you are out of his sight.

Chaeryeong was not far, so you thought it wouldn't be a problem to go alone looking for her. When you hear Eric's voice calling for you, you pretend like you didn't and just walk faster looking around for your friend, until he grabs your arm forcing you to look at him.

"Babe, I was calling you, didn't you hear me?", he asks and for a moment you think you're crazy. Didn't he cheat on you? Didn't you break up? Why's he acting like nothing happened?

"What do you want?"

"I missed you", he says, getting closer, giving you puppy eyes and caressing the arm he is holding.

"Don’t pretend like everything is okay." You shake your arm out of his grip. "We broke up, I don’t want to talk to you anymore."

"What did I do that was so wrong?" He asks, His expression void of embarrassment

"What did you do? Are you fucking joking right now?"

"Don’t you think you’re exaggerating?" He asks, pouting. "It meant nothing to me, if you just let me explain-"

'Is he trying to look like the victim while I’m the jealous girlfriend? Doesn't he have a conscience?' You knew this would happen, you knew he would try to talk his way out of this. You take your phone out of your pocket and show him the picture you took of him at the party. His eyes grow wide.

"I’m not going to let you gaslight me into thinking I'm crazy." He tries to take the phone out of your hand but is stopped by a very angry Changbin.

"I see I should have beat you more", he spits, coming in between the two of you. "Get her out of here"

Hyunjin comes over to you, he puts a hand on the small of your back and leads away from the both of them. You're worried about your friend, he could get into trouble if they fight, so you can't help but to take a few glances in their direction until you are too far to see them.

You feel tears running down your face and you can’t seem to stop them. You’re so angry, so hurt. If Eric had only admitted what he did, you wouldn’t hate him so much, but he’s just pretending you’re overreacting and trying to get his way. Everyday you try to push aside the hurt you’re bearing, the feelings of insecurity and anxiety. You have to convince yourself that you did nothing wrong, that he’s the one at fault. You’re afraid of falling in love again, scared of having to go through all of this heartbreak and pain again. Love shouldn’t be like this, love should be light and carefree.

"I can’t believe he showed up when you were alone", Hyunjin says, pulling you out of your worried and anxious thoughts. You look around and notice how far you are from Changbin now.

"I expected it" You say, sighing as you wipe your tears.

"He’s such an asshole, trying to deceive you like that." You scoff, feeling mad. He's not that different.

"Do you think you’re better than him?" You ask and he looks at you, frowning.

"You lead girls on over and over" You continue. You’re trying to hurt him. You want him to feel the hurt that you felt. You know it’s not fair, but it has not been fair to you either. Why do you have to be the only one feeling miserable? He stares at you for what feels like an eternity, sighing before answering.

"I never give false hope to other people", you take a deep breath, you really thought he would lie to you, say he doesn't know what you’re talking about.

"I never accept the confessions of the girls who have feelings for me", he continues, "and the ones I occasionally go out with know I won't date them, it's not my fault that they think they can change me or whatever they choose to take that risk." He sounds hurt, exactly the way you wanted, so why do you feel even worse?

"I don’t see how I’m like him." He finishes, making you feel like your chest is sinking.

"I-"

"We finally found you!" You hear Changbin’s voice and you look towards the sound, he and Chaeryeong look tired, they’re breathing heavily and sweating.

"We searched for you everywhere, why didn’t you answer your messages?", Chaeryeong asks, hugging you.

"I didn’t realize how much time had passed." You say as your eyes stay locked on Hyunjin. He’s avoiding your gaze again just like he did at the party, looking to the floor and making your chest ache even more.

"I’m sorry for worrying you", he says, "I gotta go"

You see him walking away, not glowing so much anymore. You wanted to call his name and apologize, say you shouldn’t have snapped at him like that, but you’re too proud for that. Too proud to apologize to one of the people that came to your rescue when you needed it the most lately. You suck. You really do.

•••

Hyunjin didn’t come around for the next week, your friends even complained about how distant he was. It couldn't be because of your conversation, right? He wouldn't be like that because of something you said. He didn't like you, it doesn't even make sense for him to care about what you say. When the weekend rolls around and you barely see him you feel weird, if you didn't know any better you would think that you're missing him and that wouldn't make sense.

Chan was cooking for the night, your Saturday had been awfully boring, so when he proposed a dinner at his house you accepted right away. His cooking is so good you're salivating with just the smell of onions and garlic. Changbin and Minho are playing Just Dance while Seungmin and I.N. are playing pokémon. Chaeryeong is by your side, complaining about a class you're not into, while Jisung and Felix are helping Chan. The only ones missing are Yeji, who's coming with Ryujin and Hyunjin, that you were informed is not coming.

"Why can't Hyunjinnie come, again?" Changbin asks while waiting for their points to be calculated on the game.

"He said it's school stuff but I bet it's because of a girl", Jisung says and you feel that weird ache in your chest once again.

What does it matter to you if he's with some girl? You not only rejected his request to be friends, you also said some pretty bad things to him. You deserve it if he never looks at you again, you still can't believe you said that to him, just because you were feeling bad doesn't mean you get to treat people that way. You sigh to your own thoughts receiving a suspicious look from Chaeryeong.

"Nah", Minho answers, "he's been hooked on the same chick for quite some time now".

You look at Minho, frowning. You didn't know Hyunjin liked someone. So why was he kissing someone else at the party? Weirdly enough, you swear you saw Minho eyeing you.

****

The moment that Chaeryeong introduced you to them, Hyunjin knew he was done for. Everything about you was appealing to him: the way you smiled talking about the things you liked, how you fixed your hair after the wind messed it up, the way you bonded with all the guys and tried finding things in common with every one of them so that you all would get along.

He couldn't help but stare, your voice was so sweet and your eyes sparkled when you laughed. He tried to be subtle but everytime you joined their group he had the same reaction like a fucking teenager that can't talk to a pretty girl. So when you began acting distant only to him, he felt bad and offended, he didn't think he did anything to make you dislike him. After a while he became distant too so that you wouldn't feel uncomfortable, eventually you both started doing things to annoy each other. He only started bothering you so that you wouldn't just ignore him, he wanted you to acknowledge him even if it was in a bad way.

Hyunjin never disliked you the way you thought he did, when you started going out with Eric he was absolutely heartbroken but he wanted you to be happy even if it wasn’t with him.

So he put his feelings aside and started going out with other girls, maybe if enough time passed he could like someone else. You didn't see it, but his eyes were always on you. Always looking at you to make sure you were happy. He was right behind you when you found Eric at that party, after you walked away he could see your faltering steps, that's when he saw you fainting and caught you just in time. He told the guys about what happened before carrying you out of the house and taking you to his car, trying to be gentler than he ever was even with his paintings while adjusting you in the front seat.

You frowned even when you were unconscious, he couldn't even imagine how hurt you would be when you woke up. So he waited and waited till your eyes opened and he was relieved to see you were alright. He thought it wouldn't be good to drop the act at that moment, you could think he was pitying you. After you left the car he was sure you would cry your eyes out all alone and he couldn't do anything because the two of you weren’t close. So he urged your friends to message you asking to come by but they already had done that and you had rejected their offers. Of course you did, you like to look tough, someone that doesn't need others, but anyone that knows you a little better sees you're a softie.

When you showed up at the studio while he was painting he couldn't believe you actually came looking for him. He was so surprised to see you that he clumsily dropped the paints he was holding. He was planning to get closer to you, close enough so you would like him and when he knew you were over your shithead ex boyfriend he would go for it. Even if you didn't want to go out with him at first he would keep trying to woo you… Of course, he didn't want to force you to like him, he would wait for you to discover your feelings.

Everything went down the drain when you asked him to kiss you. Every bit of his self control just disappeared and when your lips touched his he was sure that you were it for him, the way just touching your soft lips made him feel like he was on fire, your hands wandering through his hair felt like the death of him. He could feel himself getting hard when the door opened abruptly, you silently left the closet and he fixed his pants so as not to show what was happening there. Hyunjin was embarrassed, if just one of your kisses could make him feel that way he could only imagine what it would feel like to actually have you. He couldn't stay there much longer, it was impossible to look at you without approaching you to get something more. But you weren't even looking at him, if you could just glance at him it would be enough, if you just looked at him he would be satisfied. Your eyes were staring at the floor, you didn't look pleased at all.

Did you regret kissing him? Was it that bad you couldn't even look at him? No one ever complained about that, so he thought he was good. Did he ruin everything?

He got out of the room, Hyunjin just couldn't be there for another second looking at your face full of contempt. He went downstairs looking for one of his friends and found Chan taking shots of tequila with a group of his juniors.

"Hey, wanna join us?" He asks and Hyunjin nods, maybe with one or two drinks he would feel better.

Hyunjin shouldn't have mixed drinks, he couldn't walk straight and his head was spinning. To make things worse he could swear he saw you coming in his direction so he went the other way to avoid you, he was afraid to say something stupid. That's when he found Chaeryeong, he asked her to help him get some water because he was not sure if he would be able to walk to the table where the drinks were. The moment his friend looked away someone grabbed him by the collar and kissed him. He wasn't sure of what was happening or if he was just imagining. He put his hands on the person's shoulder and stepped away feeling dizzy. Minho was close by so he dragged Hyunjin out of the party and gave him some water while he got some fresh air.

"Y/N", Hyunjin was babbling and Minho rolled his eyes.

"What is it?" He looked at his friend seated on the grass with his head between his legs, "Are you still hanging onto your crush on Y/N? Didn't you say that you would give up when she started dating?"

Minho asked those questions but he already knew the truth, his friend had never really stopped liking Y/N.

"Kissed her", Hyunjin grumbles rolling his tongue.

"What? When?"

"During that- that game" Hyunjin trips over his own tongue as he tries to answer.

“Dare…truth.. that one.” He answers, looking over at Minho with glazed eyes.

"And how did it go?" He asks, curious.

"Good, it was so so good I could die"

"Well, if you die you won't be able to kiss her again", Minho jokes seeing drunk Hyunjin pout with tears in his eyes.

"I wan kiss her again though" Minho laughs.

"Of course you do" He sighs bending down and slipping Hyunjin's right arm around his shoulder and lifting him, "Let's go home now so you can think about how to kiss her again"

Hyunjin could barely open his eyes when he woke up the next morning, he was really thirsty and his head felt like it could explode at any minute. However, he had one thing on his mind: Win you at any cost.

So he called all of your friends and asked which classes they picked this semester casually asking if any of your other friends were attending that same class. That's how he found out your schedule and sure, that sounds pretty stalkerish of him, but that's the only way he could get close to you without raising suspicion.

When you told him that he was the same as your ex he wanted earth to swallow him whole, he was so mad at himself for making you feel that way and he was hurt that you thought of him in that way. He couldn't look at you anymore, he was too hurt for that. He avoided you for the next week, afraid to meet your gaze and be faced with indifference or even worse, disgust. He didn't even attend the dinner Chan was doing because he couldn't bear to be in the same room with you. That's until he got drunk enough to make his liver beg for mercy, he couldn't even think straight anymore, so he went on a walk for some fresh air and he walked and walked until he was under a really familiar vertical garden.

•••

You got back from dinner after midnight, you are already in your pajamas ready to go to bed when you hear a "clank" coming from somewhere. You can't figure out the source of it so you ignore it until it happens again, you realize that the sound is coming from the door at the balcony. You get close trying to see what is causing the noise, You look down and notice a couple of rocks on your balcony. ‘Who the hell is throwing rocks at my window in the middle of the night?’ You open your window ready to curse at the culprit, when you look down you see Hyunjin looking at you with puppy eyes.

"What are you doing?" You ask and he smiles.

"I wanted to see your face" He answers simply.

"What are you talking about? Why would you want to see my face in the middle of the night, Hwang?"

"I like it when you say my surname" He giggles, "And the answer is: because you're beautiful" You blush wanting to die, why are you blushing? This guy is drunk for sure, bothering you in the middle of the night. So if you know that, why are you blushing? And why do you want to smile?

"Now that you got to see my face you can go home" You say, trying to close the window.

"Noooooo", he screams and you are sure he woke up half of the neighborhood. "I WANNA SEE YOUR FACE UP CLOSE"

"Shut up" You look around to make sure there's no one turning on their lights to see what's happening and when you look at him again Hyunjin is climbing the fence where the flowers are tangled in your vertical garden.

"What are you doing?" You whisper yell at him but he ignores you, continuing to climb until he's on your balcony.

You cross your arms in front of your chest looking at him, he's taking deep breaths but looking really proud of himself.

"I could have opened the door for you if you wanted to come up" You say.

"Oh" He says and smiles shyly, "I'm sorry, I wanted to be romantic" You feel your face hot before you can ask what the hell he's talking about. He looks totally disheveled, messy hair, clothes that look like pajamas and glasses he only uses at home or when he's tired and doesn't want to wear his contacts.

"Care to explain why you’re here?" You smell the alcohol on him so you can already guess.

"I already told you, I missed your pretty face", he answers, pouting like a child that has to answer to their mother after doing something wrong.

"No, you said you wanted to see my face and then said I'm beautiful, you didn't say you missed me" You pick at his words trying to think of a way to send him home without your friends knowing about this situation because you know that if they find out you're done for. They're gonna pester you for the rest of your life asking why Hyunjin would come after you while drunk and to be honest that's a question that you would like to know the answer to too.

"Ah, you're so smart, that's why I like you" He says walking and looking around your room.

"Is that right?" You ask, amused, maybe having him here while drunk isn't so bad.

"Yesssss, and you're pretty and nice and really funny and good at everything you do", you smile without even realizing, what is this guy doing to you?

"Okay, now you have to go home, alright? I have to sleep"

"Let me sleep with you, I'm really good at it" You choke on the air you inhaled, coughing violently.

"What?"

"Humm, I'm good at being the big spoon and I don't take much space in the bed and you can even sleep on my chest and I'll hug you" He's saying that and has the audacity to blush.

You decide to call the guys that lives with Hyunjin, you're not scared of their questions anymore because you're too afraid you're actually going to accept his proposition. You try Minho, and Changbin but no one's answering. Shit. You look back at Hyunjin and see him lying down on your bed.

"For god's sake, Hyunjin" You try shaking him to wake him up with no success. You sigh, what are you going to do now?

----------------

All characters in my writing are from my own imagination and don't represent nor reflect in any way the people in real life.

Taglist:

@hhwangsmoon @inara-a

403 notes · View notes

itsbeeble · 6 months

Text

LET LOOSE

SUMMARY: Younghoon has hated you since the day he met you. He thought you were stuck up with that better-than-you princess attitude of yours. What better than to just…fuck it right out of you?

GENRE: smut, fluff, angst, crack

PAIRING: Kim Younghoon x afab!reader (ft. eric)

WC: 5.3K

SERIES MASTERLIST

PERM TAGLIST: @juyeonszn @winterchimez

18+ MDNI AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

WARNINGS: Swearing, public sex, floor sex, academic rivals that everyone knows secretly want to fuck, enemies to lovers, missionary (that's a first wow), sexual references, mentions of alcohol, insults (not sexual), arguments, pining, mentions of killing someone as a joke, dry humping for like two seconds, making out, mentions of marking, mentions of oral, guys i think this is the least slutty fic I've written for this series, y/n is stuck in a perpetual state of denial, let me know if I missed anything but i think that's it

A/N: Everyone allow me to introduce Doll's less-slutty cousin!! I can't believe we're over halfway through this collab omg. I'm really glad people are loving this and I hope you guys have been catching the easter eggs me and Fawn have been throwing into our fics 😏

If anyone asked you what you thought of when you thought of local star student, heartthrob, and frat boy Kim Younghoon, you would scoff and cross your arms over your chest.

“I hate him,” you would say, your lips pursed and eyebrows furrowed until they were practically touching. “I hope his house burns to the fucking ground.”

One would think this was a gross overreaction, that you probably held a grudge over something stupid, or that he killed your dog or maybe he copied off your essay but made it seem like you were the one who plagiarized. And oh, how that would’ve been much simpler.

The true story, however, goes all the way back—

“Thinking about me again?” A hand cracks down on the desk in front of you, your mind and body jerking back to reality.

There he is, you think to yourself, the bane of my fucking existence. Your teeth are already grinding together, your grip tightening around the pencil you’d been using to write your notes and all he’s doing is standing there with a stupid fucking smirk.

“Why would I be thinking of you?” You bite out and Younghoon places a hand over his heart in mock hurt.

“Ouch, sweetheart.” Your body stiffens and your face contorts with disgust at the nickname.

“Don’t call me that, douchebag.” Younghoon sighs dramatically, dropping down to be at eye level with you.

“So cruel to me,” a pout, and then he’s smirking again. “What if I was into that, sweetheart?”

You might throw up.

“What do you want?” you groan, noting how other students have begun to flood out of the lecture hall while you’re putting your things away. Younghoon shrugs, rising to his feet at the same time as you. Had you been a weaker woman, his height would’ve had your knees wobbling and your panties hitting the ground but, fortunately, you were a strong woman. Some of your friends couldn’t relate to that despite your very clear and very much valid hatred for him.

“I just wanted to see what you were up to,” he shoves his hands into his pockets, rocking back onto his heels. “Considering that we’re now partners for this assignment.”

Your heart drops into your stomach, your eyes widen, and your cheeks are fighting between going pale and burning bright as a tomato.

“What are you— what do you mean we’re partners?” You echo, and his smirk only widens. Your shoulder bashes into his arm while you make your way to the front of the lecture hall where the list of partners is posted. He trails behind you, long legs making it easy to keep pace despite how impossibly fast you seem to walk.

“Aren’t you so excited?” He sounds too excited about this, and you have to physically stop yourself from grabbing him by the neck and choking him where he stands. “We get to work together for the whole semester!”

“I still don’t see how this is a problem,” Dawon tells you her tongue running over her lip as she watches you pace the length of your dorm suite’s lounge area. “Isn’t he, like, super hot? And smart?”

Your lip curls into a sneer and you whip your body around to look at her.

“He is not hot,” your voice has raised in pitch, your arms waving frantically. “He’s— he’s stupid and— and annoying, and he doesn’t know how to shut up, and his face— oh his face is just so— so—”

“Kissable?” Suyeon offers when she makes her way over with a steaming mug of tea.

“I think rideable is a better word,” Dawon grins at the way your jaw drops at the two of them.

“He does have a very rideable—”

“Okay, enough!” You snap, your face beginning to burn bright red in anger.

“Ooh she’s blushing!” Suyeon giggles and your face only burns brighter.

“You both are insufferable,” you throw yourself back onto the couch, your head turned toward the ceiling. “Kim Younghoon is annoying, stuck up, and his face is not kissable or rideable.”

“So you’re saying you’ve thought about it before?” Suyeon presses and you roll your eyes.

“Hell no. Why would I think about that?”

“Because he’s your mortal enemy and everyone ends up fucking their mortal enemy at some point.”

“Plus he’s a yummy, scrumptious, daddy cupcake.”

“Ugh, so true Dawon.” Suyeon squeezes your roommate’s hand, the two of them grinning deviously at each other.

“That’s— did you just call him— No, that’s not the point. The point is, that’s not true!” You lift your head, eyes wide with horror. “That only happens in books!”

“Not just books,” Suyeon raises her mug to her lips with a hint of a smirk on her face. “Didn’t you hear about the KAT and TBZ presidents?”

“Oh my god, Eric told me about that!” Dawon gasps. “Apparently they—”

“I don’t need to know the details of their sex lives.” You interrupt again. “God, you two are just…”

“Don’t you just love us?” Dawon winks at you, and you wrinkle your nose in distaste.

“Let’s not go that far.” Her lips twist, and the three of you go quiet for a moment.

“Why do you even hate him?”

Ah, there it is. The same question everyone had been asking since the day you started at this school.

Why do you hate Kim Younghoon?

“It’s complicated,” you tell them what you always say. You tell them that it’s nothing they should be concerned about. He knows what he did.

“Then uncomplicate it.” Suyeon is much softer than Dawon, her eyes furrowed but not with the mild irritation Dawon has. It’s more…concern than anything else, and for a moment you think about telling them. Think about dropping your petty act, let them know exactly what about Younghoon bothers you so much.

You open your mouth, and the two girls in front of you lean forward expectantly, practically on the edge of the tiny couch that had been squeezed into the suite.

“I can’t.”

“That isn’t going to work, sweetheart.” Younghoon says, waltzing up to you after your failed attempt to talk your professor into letting you change partners or work alone. Your shoulders are slumped in defeat, something that Younghoon seems to laugh at. “You’re stuck with me.”

“I really hate you, Kim Younghoon.” You lift your head, wanting so desperately to glare at him but you can only find the strength to stare blankly. He kisses his teeth, eyebrows furrowing.

“That’s a bit harsh, isn’t it?”

“Who cares? It’s true.”

You want to scream. You want to throw your body onto the ground and throw a tantrum, to cry and whine, to kick and punch the air—anything to get out of this situation.

“All this because I got a better grade than you in one class in high school.” Younghoon shakes his head, his hair falling into his face and obscuring his eyes partially. Your heart thuds against your ribcage (because of the memory, obviously).

“You really think that’s the only reason I hate you?” Hint: he’s right for once. Would you ever tell him that? No. As far as he knows, you have endless reasons to hate him. As long as he lives, that list will grow. In fact, it would be better if he knew that you’d be pissed if he died before you because that means he tried to escape one last competition, but you’d hate it even more if he died after you because that means he would win one last time.

“That’s all I can think of,” he shrugs and you kiss your teeth.

“Disappointing me again, douchebag.” He scoffs at that.

“Of course I am. When am I not upsetting you about some bullshit?”

Oddly, this time you don’t answer him. At least you don’t give him an answer to that question.

“Listen, Kim Younghoon,” you place a hand on your hip, shifting your weight to lean mostly on one leg. He leans toward you a bit, slightly angling his head as if trying to hear you better. “You’re the most annoying, egotistical, snobbish boy I’ve ever met. You always have this, like, need to be better than me— than everyone.”

Younghoon inhales, his eyebrows knitting together and his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. You can see the irritation in his gaze, can see him fighting the urge to snap at you and it has your stomach churning. When he finally responds, it’s not exactly what you expected. You thought he would snap back at you, tell you to go fuck yourself, to call you the same insults you just called him.

He doesn’t.

“Meet me in the library at 4 o’clock.” Your head jerks back, your nose wrinkling with confusion.

“Excuse me?” Younghoon just smiles coyly, already turning away from you.

“Don’t you wanna get this project done so you don’t have to deal with me?” He can practically see the wheels turning in your brain, contemplating all your options.

“I mean yeah, but how do you know if I’m even free—”

“You’re always at the cafe at the same time as me,” Younghoon glances down at you, stepping to the side as he pushes open the door of the lecture hall. You say nothing as you push by him. “I’m starting to think you’re obsessed with me, sweetheart.”

“That’s not— I would never— how—” You sputter, stumbling over your words and waving your hands in the air while you try to come up with something to say. Something to deny. Younghoon begins to smile again, coy and near-mocking.

“I don’t hear you actively denying anything.” His eyes widen and he bends forward, lowering his face to be near yours. Your cheeks are heating up, your mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. Words. You need words. Why is nothing coming out?

“Shut the hell up, douchebag.” He laughs and your stomach churns again. Is he laughing at you?

“I’ll see you at 4, sweetheart.” Younghoon starts to reach his hand toward you as he leans up, but thinks better of it and drops it back to his side.

“Yeah, sure,” you scoff and turn your back to him.

Fucking prick.

“You have got to be kidding me,” You toss a stack of papers onto the table you’re sitting at, glaring at the notes Younghoon wrote on the whiteboard. He’d rented a study room for a few hours, giving you time to start working.

Or, at least, try to start working. You had made no promises about not trying to kill him and making it so neither of you could get any work done. Although, you had thought about running him over with your car so that you would have an excuse to work on this alone.

The blinds over the door had been shut, blocking anyone from looking in and potentially seeing you try to kill a man. Lucky for you.

“What’s so wrong with what I wrote?” He squints at the board and you push yourself out of the old, creaky chair you’d been sitting in.

“It’s contradictory!” You complain, reaching around him for the eraser. He grabs your hand before you can do anything, turning on you with a scathing glare.

“It’s not, though!”

His grip tightens on your wrist when you pull it away. You narrow your eyes, but he doesn’t waver at all. There’s heat behind his gaze, heat that makes you nervous. You know he won’t hurt you, that’s not who he is. The heat though…that makes you nervous. It’s the same heat you’d felt several times in the past few weeks.

“Let me go, Kim Younghoon.” He leans his head toward yours and your throat begins to close, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Not until you tell me why it’s contradictory!” He snaps. You swear your ears start to ring, your vision closing in until all you can see is Younghoon.

“It’s— why does it matter so much to you?” His grip finally loosens and you rip away from him with a huff.

“Because you’re putting down my work! Again!” He flings his hands into the air and you bite your tongue. “Why do you hate me so much?”

A lump in your throat, tears in your eyes, and Younghoon drops your hand. He looks defeated, his shoulders slumping and his lips set into a deep frown.

“I just,” Younghoon sits in his chair, the old wood creaking under his weight. You stand in the middle of the study room, hands by your sides and your eyes flicking around nervously. Your posture is so tense compared to his, your eyes flitting around anxiously. “I’m tired of this shit. Not knowing what the fuck I did wrong. You never give me a reason and, at first, I was fine with it. I liked the casual rivalry. But now I’m just…it’s been four years, and I still don’t know what I did.”

“Choi Yuna.” It comes out fast, the name of your ex-best friend. So fast that Younghoon doesn’t catch it, he just stares at you with a look of pure confusion.

“What?”

You say her name slower this time, tugging at the edge of your shirt. “Choi Yuna, you dated her from freshman year until late sophomore year.”

“Okay, yeah,” he leans forward with his elbows on his knees. “What does she have to do with this?”

Your cheeks are burning, and you know he can see it. See how flustered you are.

“She was my best friend.” You bite on your tongue, trying to find the right words.

“I know,” he said, and you purse your lips. “She talked about you all the time.”

“That’s funny,” you scoff, a spark of anger returning to your tone and to your facial features. “Considering she’s the reason I hated you for so long.”

“What are you talking about, sweetheart?” Younghoon huffs, rubbing at his eyes with his palms. You can tell he’s frustrated, so you speak quicker.

“She— she knew that I liked you.” His eyes snap up, wide and bulging. “She knew that I wanted to ask you out in freshman year, so she made sure to get there first. I— at first I thought that you knew that’s why she did it.”

“You thought that I knew your best friend wanted—” Younghoon huffs and rises to his feet.

“Just—” You hold up your hands as he begins to step toward you, slowly backing you into the wall. “Just let me talk. I thought you knew, yes. She told me that you asked her out first and that she just— she just agreed. So yeah, I started to hate you. I started arguing with you and every answer you gave in class because I was just so…angry at— at everything, at myself.”

Your back is against the wall now, and you’re slowly curling in on yourself as Younghoon gets closer.

“And…?” he cocks an eyebrow and your swallow thickly.

“By the time I realized that it was all her….at that point it was just easier to keep hating you. To keep everything at bay.”

“Everything?” He echoes and had you been looking at his face instead of his chest, you would’ve seen the smirk you’d always claimed to hate plastered onto his face.

“Yes,” you groan and lift your head. Your breathing hitches in your throat, your body pushing even closer to the wall when you finally see just how close Younghoon is to you.

Just a few inches from your face is his own, his eyes dancing from your eyes to your lips. His breathing is, compared to yours, slow and even. Inhale, hold, exhale. You can see his chest rising and falling with the rhythm.

“Why—” you clear your throat. “Why are you so close to me, Younghoon?”

“No legal name this time?” He murmurs, one of his hands coming up to rest on the wall beside your head. His head dips down and now his lips are brushing against yours, every breath you take mixing with his. “What happened?”

“I just— you’re a little close to me.” Your hand presses on his chest, but it's as if you aren’t even trying to push him away. “We— we probably shouldn’t.”

Younghoon kisses his teeth, shaking his head at your suggestion. Arguably, it’s a wise choice, but right now he has you exactly where he wants you. If he lets you leave now, who’s to say you won’t pack your bags and take a one-way flight to Brazil?

“I’ve been waiting,” he says and you squeeze the hand on his chest into a fist. “For three years for you to get your head out of your ass. I’m not letting you go now that I have you.”

“Have me?” Your tone shifts into one of challenge rather than the nervous air you’d surrounded yourself with. “If anything, I have you, Kim Younghoon.”

You yank him to you by his shirt, reaching up on your tip toes to place a firm kiss on his plush lips. You hear a groan rumbling in his throat, the hand not on the wall wrapping around your waist and squeezing tightly. Your lips mesh together, but it isn’t messy. It’s slow, calculated just like every move either of you had made against each other. Every argument, every challenge. The build-up. It all led to this, and you’re not letting him go this time. He’s yours and Choi Yuna can’t take him this time.

With a new fervor, both of your hands come to lace into his thick strands of black hair, effectively trapping his lips against yours. He drops the hand that was on the wall, both hands now on your waist and sipping under the loose fabric of your shirt. You gasp at the cold feeling of his hands on your skin, and he takes that opportunity to sneak his tongue into your mouth. It’s experimental, the way his tongue caresses yours, pushing gently and letting you suck at the warm muscle. He listens to the pretty little whimper you let out when he does the same thing in return and a shiver runs down his spine. His hand slides up the back of your shirt, emerging from the collar and lacing into the strands of your hair.

Air. You had to come up for air. You needed to breathe. Your lungs are aching, but fuck his lips are addicting. They’re soft, and warm, and they feel so good against yours.

Your knees cave slightly, your mind going fuzzy and Younghoon rips away from you to steady your body, his knee shoved between your legs to help keep you upright.

“Sweetheart,” his tone is lighthearted, but you know he’s scolding you. “You need to learn to breathe. I’m not leaving just because you need some air.”

A pretty little whine escapes you, but Younghoon is quick to realize that it’s not because you can’t find the words to respond to him. Well, if you think about it, that kind of was the reason.

Your hips are rolling down on his knee, your hands gripping his shoulder for dear life as you ride his thigh. Your head is rolled to the side, your eyes squeezed shut as you try to find the right pace and the right amount of pleasure to ease your arousal. Younghoon’s jaw drops, and he feels his dick twitch in his pants at the sight of you trying so desperately to relieve yourself on him. Unfortunately for you, he notes, your jeans seem to be in the way of you achieving your pleasure.

“Sweetheart,” he coos but his voice is shaky and he thanks god that you’re too far gone to notice. “Look at you, trying so hard to get yourself off.”

You whine, and his breathing hitches when you try to ride him even harder.

“Is it not enough?” He presses and your eyes fly open with the quick nod of your head. But then you shake it, and his heart clenches at the confused furrow of your brow.

“‘S not!” You whine. “Need more, Hoonie.”

He smiles when you reach one of your hands down, undoing the button of your jeans and trying desperately to shove them down as far as they can physically go without interrupting your ministrations. To your dismay, they barely get anywhere before Younghoon has to set you down and starts to tug them down your legs gently.

You never thought you would enjoy watching a man get down on his knees for you, never thought you could have this much of a reaction to it. Younghoon though…the sight of him looking up at you through his lashes, the nearly pathetic look in his eyes when he sees just how soaked your panties are— it’s enough to have you practically crumbling to the ground, your lips crashing against his again and forcing him back to lay on the ground.

His hands are everywhere— your hair, your hips, your ass, anywhere he can reach. He squeezes the soft flesh of your ass when your lips trail down his neck, sucking little marks into the skin and pulling groans and quiet whimpers from his throat.

Your hands run under his shirt, and he weakly tries to help you push it over his head to be tossed somewhere else. You shush him, a playful look in your eye as you place a finger on his lips.

“Gotta be quiet now,” you unbutton his jeans, slowly dragging them and his boxers down and he lifts his hips to help you slide them down to his knees. He doesn’t bother with your shirt but makes quick work of your bra and shoves it up. You’re sliding your panties down your legs when he shoves his hands under your shirt, squeezing and tugging at the soft mounds of flesh on your chest. A quiet moan at the feeling of him tugging at your nipples, and his hands falter momentarily when you wrap your hand around the base of his cock.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” he teases and you scoff while lining him up with your sopping wet pussy. You know he’s big, both of you do, but you’d never admit that to his face. Never admit that you’re nervous about taking it all in, nervous that you won’t be able to take him at all.

“As if your little dick could possibly hurt me—” your voice catches and he watches with strained amusement as you begin to sink down on him. Your walls are tight around him, practically squeezing the life out of his poor cock while you try so desperately to keep sliding down on him. Younghoon pulls his hands out of your shirt, sliding them down to your hips and gently rubbing them as a means to ease your discomfort.

“What were you saying about my little dick?” Younghoon sneers and you have to fight back the whine that threatens to slip out of you. He’s just over halfway in when you force yourself to give up, the stretch beginning to be too much for you to handle. “I could’ve prepped you, y’know? Made this easier for us both.”

You can only lower your head onto his shoulder, biting harshly into the skin while he flips you around and pushes your legs up toward your chest.

“Hold these here, sweetheart.” You do as he says, gasping sharply when he begins to sink into you.

“Fuck, Younghoon!”

“Shhh,” he kisses you gently while continuing to press into you, using the width of his shoulders to gently spread your legs a bit further apart. “‘M almost there, I promise.”

“‘S too much,” you whimper, a tear slipping out of your eye and dripping onto the carpeted floor below you. “‘S too much, Hoonie.”

“I know sweetheart,” he coos and looks down at where the two of you are connected. He fights the sudden urge to cum when he sees the fluttering of your walls, sees them clenching around him, and trying to force him out. “I’m almost there.”

Another whine from you and he quickly slides the last three inches into you, clapping a hand over your mouth to muffle the scream you release. He stays still for a moment, listening to the sound of you sniffling, and turns his head briefly to look at the door. A shadow passes by and he exhales quietly.

“And you were worried about me being too loud. Who’s the one with a hand over her mouth, hm?” You can’t don’t respond and Younghoon pulls out entirely, leaving just the tip inside of you, and when you whine and let go of one of your legs to reach out for him, he sinks into you in one harsh thrust.

The moan you let out behind Younghoon’s hand is guttural, and your back arches off the floor. His thrusts are rapid, yet he doesn’t falter in pattern. He sinks deep inside of you, punching into you so deep that you swear he’s going to hit your cervix. He lets his hand drop from your mouth listening to the way you try to hold back your noises. Every whine, every whimper and moan and cry, you try so hard for him.

“Such a good girl,” he coos. “Keeping quiet and letting me fuck her real good.” His voice is so quiet, the words practically hissed into your ear and it’s so hot that your eyes roll into the back of your head.

Your grip on your legs loosens and then your hands drop them entirely, letting them fall onto his sturdy shoulders. He watches as both of your hands disappear under your shirt and he feels a pang of irritation as you begin to play with your nipples. They draw sharper noises out of you, higher in pitch and slightly louder. Although, Younghoon can’t complain when the combined pleasure has your cunt fluttering around him and fresh waves of arousal washing through you to make it easier for him to fuck in and out of you.

“Hoon,” your whine is loud. Too loud. “So close, please!”

Younghoon hushes you again, his hand running up the side of your leg and squeezing at the flesh of your thigh.

“I know, sweetheart,” he tells you. “You gotta be quiet f’ me. Gotta be quiet so nobody walks in, okay?”

“I can’t.” You sob out and Younghoon pushes himself closer to you, practically folding you in half so he can kiss you. You open up immediately, whining and letting him slide his tongue in for you to suck on.

Younghoon’s hips begin to stutter, his body shaking against yours, but you’re closer. Your body spasms, and you nip at his tongue to keep him close to you while you cum. Younghoon grunts at the combined feeling of your bites and the clenching of your walls around his length. It’s all a bit too much and it only takes a few more thrusts before he’s shuddering and collapsing against you, spilling ropes of white hot cum inside of you.

He can feel the combination of his and your cum beginning to squeeze out of you around the tight fit of his dick inside of you, but he doesn’t have the strength to pull out of you just yet. You’ve stopped biting at him, your eyes squeezed shut and your mouth slowly sucking at the warm muscle he continues to provide you.

Your body is sore, your thighs aching and likely bruised when you walk into your dorm a few hours later. You hadn’t gotten any work done after that, spending the rest of the time making out in a chair and grinding on each other like some damn horny teenagers. You know you’re a disaster, but you’re more than content with that knowing that Younghoon looks the same (if not worse).

When the door clicks shut, it’s dark in the suite and you silently thank god that Dawon and Suyeon are asle—

“Where the fuck have you been?”

The lights flick on to reveal your two friends at the counter in the suite’s living area. Dawon looks furious, but Suyeon looks like she just wants to go to be. You grimace, dropping your bag off your shoulder and onto the ground next to you.

“Out.” Your voice is hoarse and you grimace. You imagine your throat is a little bit bruised from…things.

“Doing what.” Dawon snaps.

“Or who, judging by the looks of you.” Suyeon clicks her tongue and rises from the couch. “Look at you! It looks like someone tried to eat you!”

Dawon squints at you, and you turn your gaze to the floor.

“You fucked him, didn’t you?” She inquires, but you both already know the answer.

“Who?” Suyeon frowns. “Who did she fuck?”

Your nose wrinkles, and you turn to her with a look that says I think you know. Suyeon tilts her head, her eyebrows knitting together in thought.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh. OH— OH MY GOD—”

The Tau Beta Zeta frat house isn’t as bad as you thought it would be. At least not party-wise. The moment you and your friends walk in, you’re engulfed in noise, drunk partygoers, and scattered members of the frat. In one corner you can see what looks like two members of the frat making out with their girlfriends. Haknyeon and Changmin, Dawon said, Too bad they couldn’t find a private space. Damn exhibitionists. A smile quirks on your lips just slightly. Oh, if only she knew the truth.

You barely acknowledge her, however, scanning the room for Younghoon.

“Eric!” You grab the passing boy by the arm and he jerks to a stop, nearly spilling the contents of two cups.

“Yo!” He grins at you, and you can just faintly see the crinkle of his eyes under the red baseball cap of his. “What’s up?”

“Have you seen Younghoon?” Eric purses his lips in thought.

“You aren’t gonna kill him, right?” You laugh and so does he.

“No, not anymore. Or…I might if he doesn’t show up soon—”

“BOO!” Someone’s hands wrap around your waist lifting you off the ground and spinning you as you scream for him to put you down. Eric slips away, casting his eyes behind him to watch you and Younghoon as he approaches a girl in the corner.

“Kim Younghoon!” You snap, swatting him upside the head. Your boyfriend smirks at you, bending down to try and give you a kiss that you block. “Don’t kiss me, you douche! That wasn’t funny!”

“It was kinda funny,” he laughs, swooping in to give a kiss that you choose not to block this time. It’s deep and slow, and he tilts his head to get a better taste of you when you bring your hand to the back of his neck.

“Mmm, I think I like it when you don’t hate me.” He murmurs when he pulls back, grinning wickedly when you place a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

“Do you now?”

“Mhm.”

“Shouldn’t have scared me then.” You scowl, turning away from him and beginning to stalk away. He scrambles after you, frantically trying to keep up despite the crowd.

“Where are you going?” He whines, grasping at your fingertips. You turn your head, a coy smile playing on your lips.

“We gotta let loose, don’t we? We’re a little tense right now.”

A puddle of drool is practically forming in Younghoon’s mouth and he’s suddenly in front of you, moving with a renewed fervor.

When the door of the third bedroom on the right of the third floor shuts and clicks locked, nobody questions it. Not the thumping, nor the loud grunts and moans.

When someone needs to let loose, people know better than to interrupt. Especially when it’s Younghoon and his former-crush-turned-enemy-turned-girlfriend.

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amomentsescape · 4 months

Note

hi doll, i would like to request an eric draven x reader AU where none of the bad stuff has happened to eric, they go out to a bar and get drunk, play some pool or darts, thank you so much!

Drunk with Love

AU! Eric Draven x Reader

Summary: A night out is the ideal way for both lovers to unwind.

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol & getting drunk, some cussing

Word Count: 951

A/N: This is such a cute request! Thank you :) Also, a Happy Valentine's Day to everyone! I know this holiday can be difficult for some, so I hope you still treat yourselves and do what makes you all happy today <3

You loved nights like these.

Getting all dressed up and spending a night on the town was something you enjoyed doing to have fun after a boring week.

You sat at a table by yourself and just watched the world around you for a bit.

People chatting and laughing, the sensation of warm air touching your skin each time the door opened, and hearing the clinking of glasses all seemed to clear your mind somehow. It felt nice not having to worry about work in the morning or anything else for that matter.

"Is this seat taken?" a husky voice asked beside you.

You couldn't help the smile that broke out on your face at this.

"It is. I'm waiting for my sexy boyfriend to meet me."

You could hear him chuckle.

"I don't know, he sounds like a loser," he responded.

"He is," you jabbed back only to receive a tickle to your side.

"Hey!" you giggled.

"You deserved it," Eric responded, turning the tickles into a hug.

"You did great tonight," you said, changing the subject.

Eric was fortunate enough to have played a show with his band tonight, and of course, you were there front row cheering him on the whole time.

But it was nice to finally have him all to yourself too. The night was still young, and you had been looking forward to some quality time together all week.

"It only went well because of my good luck charm," he joked.

You rolled your eyes but smiled, still managing to feel bashful whenever he complimented you.

"I feel like I was more of a distraction tonight," you laughed. "I was screaming at you the whole show."

Eric's smile widened. "That's what brings me luck."

You giggled some more and grabbed his hand.

"Come on. Where are we headed first?"

Eric shrugged. "Wherever the night takes us!"

You two walked down the main strip of the city for a while, walking past multiple bars in hopes of finding one that struck your fancy.

Along the way, you both chatted and caught up about the week. Although you two lived together, work and normal life stuff seemed to preoccupy both of you more than you would have liked.

You were mid sentence when you suddenly stopped, Eric quickly following your gaze.

A new bar you two had never been to was right across the street. Bright purple and blue lights lit up the sidewalk and nearby cars, and there was even a small line outside the door.

Eric didn't even have to ask before pulling your hand with him as he jogged across the street.

And once inside, you knew you two had made a good choice.

The air was cool and the bar literally glimmered from the number of lights and crystals decorating the walls.

The dance floor was one of the biggest you'd seen, and the back even had some pool tables and darts set up.

Eric looked down to see your reaction and was met with you bouncing excitedly beside him.

"Let's go," he motioned to the bar.

You both didn't have to wait long to order your drinks thankfully. And once they were in hand, you already knew where Eric was headed.

He was quick to claim one of the pool tables as his. He dug around for some change and gave you a devilish smile when he found enough.

You already knew how this was going to go. Eric was crazy good at pool, and despite his numerous tries to help you, you never could manage to beat him at the game. But you honestly didn't mind much. You enjoyed doing just about anything with him, and seeing him have fun meant just as much to you as it did for him.

"Don't be shy," he said loudly, talking over the loud music and chatter.

"You're going down!"

You both laughed knowing that statement was far from the truth. But you were excited nonetheless.

He, of course, beat you each round. But you were happy with it since that meant Eric found excuses to come up behind you and help provide some "strategies" on how to aim the cue better.

You could already feel the effects of the alcohol on your system, and you were certain Eric was feeling the same based on his rosy cheeks and the longing stare he was giving you.

You eventually pulled Eric along towards the dart games, something you knew you had a chance at beating him at.

You couldn't help but giggle when Eric attempted to throw a couple of darts, only to miss them completely.

He gave you a cute pout as you tried to cover your smile, your eyes tearing up from how hard you were laughing.

Eric came over then and immediately tackled you in a hug, squeezing you so tight that you were unable to wiggle out of his grasp.

He began to laugh with you at this, and the mix of alcohol and slippery floors only seemed to work against you both.

With one wrong step, you two slipped and tumbled onto the floor, still holding each other and laughing hysterically.

No one else in the bar took any notice of you two from their own drunken haze. So you both continued to giggle on the dirty floor, not having a single care in the world.

Were you probably going to wake up tomorrow morning with bruised arms and a raging headache?

Oh, most definitely.

But something told you that cuddling up next to the man you loved with a sickening hangover was going to somehow be worth it.

This night will be one for the books, that's for sure.

#eric draven x reader #eric draven #the crow 1994 #the crow

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zzoguri · 9 months

Text

first to know you, first to love you ➵ eric sohn

all you should care about is graduating with flying colors, so why are you starting to care about your seatmate?

requested by @mosviqu @sohnric for the song "valentine" by laufey

general genre/warnings ➵ strangers to friends to lovers, fluff, slice of life, afab reader (they/them pronouns), reader is a psychology student who has so much aspirations (and also believes love and studies cannot be balanced), eric is your seatmate-turned-friend-turned-lover, library dates reading dates study dates you name it!, eric is the most supportive guy out here, he annotates a book for you..., references to books and poetry, he buys you stuff, and he reads a book for you!!, slight hurt/comfort, kissing, also unedited IM SORRY!!!

word count ➵ 10k words

taglist ➵ @deoboyznet @kflixnet @blankjournal @winterchimez @miusgirl @jenoscafe @sweet-unicorn-world @mosviqu @vernyangel

a/n ➵ okay i am WITHIN the word limit!! but i know i went over the limit of scenarios (this may be the last time this happens... i don't know yet... help?) but i hope you enjoy this bar!! i am not too happy about my writing style for this one :') and i know reader may not be very "black cat" as i know you but i hope you'll still enjoy it to the fullest </3 also i made sure to not mention anything related to height LMFAO for the other readers: if you enjoyed this, always make sure to reblog (even if it’s on your tbr)!

want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask! want to request? check out my guidelines! masterlist

The years spent in university may be defined differently by everyone. Some may live out these years to enjoy the supposed independence they craved in high school. Others may spend those years exploring their interests and hobbies as they figure out what their future may have in store for them.

You, however, were a different case—head in scientific journals and coursework with a plan to graduate summa cum laude. As you study in a quota course, you’re determined to come out of university with flying colors. In a sea of students who are of similar (or even better) skill sets as you, the desire to be recognized as one of the top students is what you long for.

And for you, that means you were set on not entertaining ideas that may divide your attention from your studies—you were not going to allow yourself to fall in love in your years of university.

That is until a certain boy who goes by Eric Sohn came into your life.

CHAPTER ONE: LOVE LABORS LOST

The season of summer still lingers in the air; birds chipper as they sit on the tree branches; the sun glows yellow in the sea of blue; people point their fans at themselves as they are forced to bask in the heat.

But the new academic year has commenced, and you are determined to ace your classes once more. You’ve read the syllabi of all the classes you were going to take, even ones for your general subjects. Many people believe that general subjects are a waste of their time. You, however, thought differently, especially since one of the subjects you’re taking this semester is English Literature.

Coming from a STEM-oriented course, you may not seem like the type to enjoy literature. But the reality is that you love to learn about poets and writers—ones who seemed to craft worlds and dynamics that you could never translate into words. This misconception of those who enjoy science being unable to appreciate written bodies of art is one you face. But at least this course is a general subject, leaving you on equal footing with individuals from different courses.

You sit by the window as you wait for your professor to finish setting up his laptop. It’s syllabus week, so there wasn’t much to be worried about. Once he clears his throat, he shows the class a smile.

“Good morning, class. I’m Mr. Hwang Taejoon, and I am your professor for Introduction to English Literature.” He takes a moment to look down at his clipboard which you can only assume holds a list of his students’ names. “If this isn’t your class, you may take this opportunity to leave.” Some students get off their seats and make their way outside the classroom.

As soon as they left, your professor smiled before clapping his hands. “I’m excited to go through this semester with you. I know this is only an introductory course for you, so I will make sure to guide you all throughout. Now, will–”

The door of the classroom slams open. Your eyes snap to where the sound comes from, showing a boy whose black hair is all tousled up as he pants. He’s all dressed up in a varsity jacket over his hoodie and a pair of sweatpants. You notice how his hand quickly reaches out to his head, fixing his hair.

The boy then immediately bows down to the class (mostly to your professor) as he says, “Sorry about being late!” Your eyes drift back to Mr. Hwang whose face now holds a frown in contrast to the smile he once showed to you. “I promise, I won’t be late for any other session!”

Mr. Hwang grumbles before he takes another look back down to his clipboard. “Go take a seat.”

The boy stands up straight before flashing your professor an apologetic smile. He quickly makes his way to find a seat. Despite the vacant seats that are located throughout the class, his eyes quickly skimmed through them. That is until his eyes land on you. You notice how his eyes flicker to the empty seat beside you. And the next thing you know, you find him situated to your right.

You try to keep your eyes on your laptop, looking at the text on the syllabus. You didn’t want to stare at him—the boy who took the vacant seat beside you out of all the ones situated around the classroom.

The noise he creates as he brings out his laptop is not loud enough to interrupt the discussion but can drown out your professor’s words. But as soon as he settles down, you notice that he sets his hand down on the space between the two laptops. You cannot help but let your eyes flicker to it, and you notice his wrist is littered with beaded bracelets.

“Now, I’ll be discussing the outputs you are expected to deliver within the semester.” Your eyes snap up to where your professor is, standing right behind the table as he looks through his laptop.

You were ready to focus for today’s session until you felt someone tap your shoulder. As you look to your side, you are met with a boy who shows you a smile—one that is enough to almost have you smiling back, just almost.

“Hi, can I ask if there was anything I missed?” It’s a simple question, but you find yourself unable to formulate an answer. His voice is enough to send you into a lullaby; he could have his own podcast and you’d listen only to hear him speak nonstop, whether it would be of logical discussions or nonsensical chatter.

Without any idea of how to voice your thoughts, you only shake your head. He nods and shoots you a wink before looking back to the professor.

You should’ve been thrown off by his sudden action. If anything, you have every right to roll your eyes at him. But you do nothing of the sort, only looking back at your professor who demands your attention while your mind remains preoccupied with the boy beside you.

This could be due to all the years focused on your studies. You could care less about all the people who tried to earn your affection, from your classmates in your majors to even those part of the same club as you. But the boy emits an aura that has you only thinking of him. How can you ace this class if you’re turning putty at the first meeting? You need to get a better grip on yourself.

“Now, I want you to answer these,” Mr. Hwang says as he flashes a question on the screen: What role does literature play in your life? “And talk about it with your seatmates. Now would be a good time to get to know your classmates with the upcoming paired assessment around the corner.”

As you read out the words on the screen, you are not given enough time to think as the boy beside you clears his throat. You look back at him, met with the same smile he flashed at you then. Does he do this with every person he first meets?

“I think I should introduce myself. I’m Eric Sohn, majoring in Hotel Culinary Arts,” he says with his hand out toward you. You take a glance at his hand before letting yourself hold it, shaking it firmly.

“I’m Y/N, majoring in Psychology.”

You notice the way his eyes widen as you mention your course. “Do you perhaps know someone named Kevin Moon?”

The mention of your friend’s name has you smiling. “Yeah, I do. We’ve worked together since we’re part of our home org. How do you know him?” Your hand drifts away from his, crossing your arms as you listen intently to what he has to say.

“Mutual friends,” he reveals as he lets one of his arms rest on the back of your chair. With one hand tucked under his chin, he rests his arm on the table. He takes a glance at the screen shown in the front to refresh his memory on the question. “Would you like to go first? Or do you want me to start?”

You nod your head, signaling for him to start. He takes a deep breath as he looks up to the ceiling, gathering his thoughts. “Well, I’ve read a few books then and there, but I think it was only when I entered uni that I started really reading more books if that makes sense.”

As his eyes meet yours, you nod as a way to show you understand him. “Yeah, I hate to admit this at first meeting but I’m a very romantic person.” You cannot help but raise your eyebrows at his words, earning a chuckle from him.

“I swear, I am! That’s why I started reading because my sister got me hooked on some romance books, so I’d like to think that literature helps me imagine scenarios I would love to see play out.” You notice the way he starts to scratch the back of his neck. “It doesn’t have to be me as the protagonist, but I’d like it,” he shyly admits, making you smile unconsciously.

God, you were not the type to just smile at some random boy. So why did Eric seem to have this effect on you?

Your thoughts snap you back into reality; the smile is now replaced by your calm demeanor. “I guess I can start.” As you see him signal for you to continue, you bite the inside of your cheek as you let your eyes drift to the screen.

“Well, I’ve been reading my whole life, actually,” you look back at Eric who seems to show genuine interest in what you have to say. Oddly enough, you feel as if you can tell him more than just the typical story you tell people.

“I know people don’t expect me to be this type because I major in Psychology, and I have this tendency to read a lot of scientific journals and textbooks for my classes but that’s because I enjoy learning about the human condition.” You let your eyes drift off to nowhere as you reveal a part of you to a stranger. Maybe it’s because he’s a stranger that makes it easier for you to admit details you wouldn’t normally admit to someone whom you’ve met under a different circumstance.

“But I’ve always had an affinity for reading. Books can be a form of escapism through fictional stories, but they can also be a way to encapsulate memories of someone,” you continue with a small sigh. “I have been quite behind with my reading schedule though, so I’m hoping this class may propel me back to getting back to reading.”

He hums as he nods before saying, “No, I get it. I like that answer.” You look back at the boy who only smiles at you. “It’s nice to know that you still want to go back to reading despite how much your other classes demand it. I know many people who’ve lost that love and don’t see themselves going back to it, you know?” You nod at his words.

You were no stranger to the love-hate relationship when it comes to reading. If anything, that is how you’d describe your relationship when it comes to the hobby. But you were hoping that the upcoming years would treat you right and that your love for said hobby may not dissipate.

“Yeah, I would hate to lose that form of escapism from my studies.”

He nods with a small chuckle following. “I get it, I would hate to lose it, too.”

With no idea how to respond, you expect silence to follow. But Eric quickly fills it as he asks you a question. “Do you know anyone in this class?” As you shake your head, he lets out a sigh of relief. “Okay, same.”

You cannot help but giggle. “I mean, if I knew someone, then I would be sitting with them,” you point out.

You want to ask him why he chose to take a seat beside you, but he beats you to it by asking you another question. “Do you have a class before this?”

“Uh, no,” you say as you quickly take a glance at your laptop, moving the windows away to show your schedule. Since the semester just started, you didn’t memorize your schedule. “It’s my first class of the day, but my next class is around 3.” You look back at the boy who cannot hide the way he reels at your schedule.

“You have such a long break. But me too,” he says as he pulls out his phone. As he shows you his schedule, you notice how big of a gap he has for today, where his next class is happening around 6 p.m. “But at least the other days are back-to-back. I just didn’t get lucky with my Mondays and Thursdays. I tried to change it but all the professors denied my request.”

You cannot help but sigh at the sight of his schedule as you remember yours. “Same. Well, I guess we’re stuck with our shitty schedules.”

Then, he asks, “Do you want to exchange schedules and numbers, perhaps?” Your eyebrows shoot up at his question. “I mean, I just don’t know anyone here, so I’d love to at least have a familiar face I can go to, especially for this class.”

You know you’re about to enter dangerous territories. With the numerous books you’ve read, you were sure this is what books typically started their stories with—a meeting between the two protagonists whose relationship will only have room to blossom.

And you should have kept him at arm's length. You didn’t want to risk getting friendly with someone like Eric because even at the first meeting, you couldn’t help but feel yourself drawn to him. But he’s nothing but kind and there should be no problem with allotting him space to take up in your life. All you need to do is stick to your plan—no idea of pursuing romance shall be entertained until you graduate. You can only hope that your interest in him is just a happy crush, one that will never flourish further.

So you find yourself nodding to his request to which he grins. But before he can say anything, the light comes through the window. He squints as it hits his face, raising his hand to shield his eyes.

“Here, you can put your number and social media then I’ll send you my schedule.” The boyish grin on his face alongside the sunlight that makes him glow is a sight the universe has gifted to you.

You’ve read all about protagonists being bewitched by the presence of another, but works of literature have not prepared you to experience the same. For once, you wish you could find the right words to describe the sight but all you can think of is what a pleasure it is to be seeing this at the start of your day—you can only hope that your happy crush remains that way.

CHAPTER TWO: LITTLE WOMEN

The later hours of the day dawned upon you. The fluorescent overhead lights are dim as only the lamps situated at every table shine bright; you enjoy them for they never make the library bleak. The wooden interior found in every corner of this library reminds you of your own back in your childhood home. But the main act of the show is the books; the wide selection they offer has you always here at every possible hour, whether it may be to study or to possibly read for leisure.

You usually find yourself alone on most occasions spent here. If you found yourself working on a group project, you would usually opt to have such meetings at the study hall situated a few buildings away. It made sense to have those in a place where you could freely talk versus a library where it would be limited to occasional chatter or whispers. Today, however, is an exception, for you now sit across from your partner for your first paired work for Mr. Hwang’s class.

“I don’t usually spend my time here, but it’s nice,” Eric voices out as he looks around, taking in the sight of his surroundings. There were barely any students in the library around these hours. Usually, it would be you and some familiar faces you recognized because of the numerous instances you stayed here.

You’re not sure why you didn’t push for the study hall, but Eric’s explanation for choosing this place made sense. If you were going to study literature, why not do it in a place that is filled to the brim with it? It’s convenient if you need to quickly pull out a book because you’re already there. But the reality is that you liked this space as your own—somewhat like a part of the university that you believe to reflect the intimate parts of you.

You hum while you look down at your iPad where your notes are all scribbled down. “I’m always here. I spend most of my time studying or reading here.” You look up to Eric whose gaze is trained on you. Oddly enough, it feels like his eyes sparkle despite how dim the environment may be.

With that, you break eye contact with him as you look over a few tables away where you notice students who you knew only by their faces. “Yeah, like I know some of the people there just because we always seem to stay in the library until the closing hours.”

He hums before asking, “Do you know their names?” You shake your head before looking back at him.

“I only know the names of the librarians and staff. I’ve never been bothered to know the names of the other students, but we still say hi whenever we pass by each other.”

He can only nod at your words. “Sorry about interrupting the discussion, we can go back to it.”

“It’s fine.” You cannot help but smile as you shake your head. “It was a break we needed to take.”

He shoots you that boyish grin—one you’ve grown fond of after seeing him every week for class—before he continues, “So, we were talking about the confession scene of Laurie.”

“Ah, that one,” you cut him off as you lean back in your chair.

He chuckles for a moment. “So, what are your thoughts on the scene?”

You let out a sigh before saying, “Well, I am 100% on Jo’s side. I mean, she has every right to decline a man’s confession, especially if she has all these aspirations she wants to achieve.” You bite on the inside of your cheek as you recall the passages in your head. “And the audacity for Laurie to be, I guess, “jealous” of Professor Bhaer is unreasonable. I mean, it’s clear she doesn’t have room for anything romantic in her life, and I think that should be respected.”

“But,” Eric quickly scrolls through his notes found on his laptop. “Don’t we learn later on that Jo ends up longing for love in the end? Doesn’t she end up wanting both—a chance to pursue her dreams while also longing to be in love?”

You cannot help but chuckle at his counterargument. “Yes, but I think that this book was written poorly. I mean, we learned in the earlier chapters that Jo did not want to marry, and didn’t we also learn that Alcott only wrote Jo and Bhaer marrying each other because her publishers forced her?”

Eric hums for a moment. “I mean, we do learn that. But I think another way to look at it is that Jo was not ready to let someone take up such an important space at that period of her life. And I think it’s perfectly fine for her to realize later on that what she thought then is not what she wants after all.” With pursed lips, he lets his gaze flicker away from the laptop and back to you. “I know we put relevance to the context of the author, but I think it’s fine to derive our own interpretations of the text despite what the author intended, you know? That’s at least what I learned in my Art Appreciation class.”

Your partner for this assignment brought up valid points. It’s not like he was telling you to agree entirely with his interpretation of the later sequence of Little Women. Instead, he was engaging in discourse with you, sharing what he thought of the scene to provide a different perspective.

“I just,” you bite the inside of your cheek. “I just think Jo’s character was so revolutionary in the field of classics. I’ve read so much about women being viewed as individuals who are only meant to marry, but authors never put importance into their aspirations. I think that’s why I loved Jo’s character.” When you notice that Eric keeps his gaze on you without any sign that he’ll interrupt, you decide to continue. “She clearly had her priorities and wasn’t willing to let the idea of romance get in the way.”

Eric’s expression slowly starts to shift into confusion. Despite your words speaking on Jo’s character, it was starting to make sense to both of you that these sentiments came from a personal standpoint.

“Is this you speaking from experience?”

For a moment, you think of lying to the boy who sits across from you. You didn’t want to hear whatever comments he would make of your own choice to keep your love life as lackluster as possible. Yet, his eyes speak thousands of words—all revolving around curiosity. And you realize that maybe Eric won’t judge you. After all, when has he ever shown you that he would criticize you?

You sigh as you let your eyes look down at your notes. “I’m not looking for a relationship, or love, in general. I don’t think I have the time to even sustain one, and I care too much about my studies to even consider it.” You look back at Eric whose doe eyes still seem to shine.

He nods, letting silence take over. Your answer hangs in the air, almost as if you two needed it to marinate further. That is until Eric decides to break the silence.

“Do you ever get jealous of what you read?” You cannot help but tilt your head at his question. He shakes his head, trying to gather the right words to say. “I mean, you’ve read so many books, and I’m sure many of them have revolved around the theme of love and romance, especially the classics. Do you not want to experience that for yourself?”

Eric’s question seemed to be rooted in genuine curiosity. And you cannot help but ponder over his words.

It’s true that you would find yourself longing to experience the wonders of love that writers seem to talk about. It would be untrue if you said you didn’t give the idea a second thought—what would it be like to allow yourself to enjoy romance all while you study for your degree? But then you remember that there wasn’t anyone, really, to have you consider such. It was only an idea you would think about but never proceed with—there was no one to take up that space in your life to begin with.

So you sigh, shaking your head as you look back down at your notes, and say, “It’s not like anyone has given me a reason to reconsider.” You leave it at that, deciding not to indulge in the topic any further. And Eric only hums, looking back at his notes.

You take this opportunity to review your notes, recollecting every detail that is worth discussing with Eric for the upcoming presentation. Unbeknownst to you, however, your partner has his mind preoccupied with another matter—what can he do to become the reason you consider?

CHAPTER THREE: PRIDE AND PREJUDICE

The moon may be shining brightly tonight, but you’ll never know. All huddled up in the library, the lamp on your table shines over your laptop and sprawled-out notes. You weren’t sure how long you’d been in this library. All you know is that you still have papers to accomplish and exams to study for.

But at least you were going through this in the comfort of your favorite spot in the university for they seemed to keep the library open all day during midterm season. And at least you had someone there to keep you company during this mess.

“This paper is impossible,” Eric complains as he rubs his eyes from exhaustion. You’re sure it’s past midnight. “What did you write your paper on?”

You cannot help but yawn. “Uh, I wrote it on Still I Rise just because it answers the prompt pretty well.” With droopy eyes, you look at your friend who now leans his head on his arm that is propped up on the table.

“Man, that’s good.” You cannot help but chuckle at his reaction. “I’m hesitant about using a poem just because I’m scared I won’t be able to share my thoughts well. Like, I know I talked about how we interpret the text as something that matters, but sometimes I cannot make sense of what these poets are saying.” His tired expression shows how long he’s been pondering on what to write.

With the paper due a few days from now, you were sure Eric was pressured to think of anything to write about. So you decide to lean back in your chair, brainstorming for anything to help him. Yet, you only draw a blank, clearly exhausted from all the studying and writing you’ve been doing.

His cackle comes out of the blue. Your eyes snap to his face, seeing that his crinkled eyes are set on you. You don’t miss how the students around your area shush him. Eric is suddenly aware of how loud he is as he cannot help but sink into his chair out of embarrassment.

“Sorry, the expression you had on your face made me laugh,” he shyly admits.

You frown at him before saying, “Fine, you’re on your own now.” Your eyes dart back to your laptop.

“Okay, wait!” He quietly exclaims as he grabs onto your forearm. Your eyes drift to his hand that rests on your arm, slowly drifting away from exhaustion. Before you can comment, he retracts his hand. “I would love your help.”

As your eyes settle on him, you notice the pout that rests on his lips. His doe eyes still manage to sparkle in the dimly lit room. The sight warms your heart—you almost let your calm demeanor falter.

“I wish I could help but for once, I can’t think of anything.” As you say those words, the cold air hits your skin. You cross your arms as a shiver runs down your spine.

Somehow, Eric is quick to catch on to your behavior. You watch how he pulls off his hoodie, hair ruffled from the action. And before you know it, he hands it to you.

“Here,” he says as he drops it right beside your laptop, covering your notes. Although you shake your head, he can only roll his eyes. “You clearly need it more than I do.”

With no sign that he’ll back down, you cannot help but sigh. You grab onto the piece of clothing and slip it on you, getting a whiff of a fruity and spicy scent that clings onto it. With how big the hoodie is, it almost acts like a blanket. And when you look back at Eric, you notice the soft expression that takes over his face—a smile that is enough to warm your heart.

“I think you should take a nap.” His suggestion has you shaking your head. “You’re clearly tired.”

You roll your eyes before going back to your laptop. “I can’t or else I’ll be behind on my tasks.”

“Okay, but if you only take an hour to nap, I’m sure you’ll feel well-rested enough to work better.”

Your friend made a valid point. At the rate you were going, you were barely absorbing anything. But you didn’t want to slack off nor did you want to fall behind on your studies.

And as if he notices your worries, he says, “I’ll make sure to wake you up an hour from now.”

You cannot hold back the smile that appears on your face. Somehow, Eric knew all the right words to say in the short span of time he has gotten to know you. And before you know it, your arms settle on the table as you find your chin settling on them. Whether it would be from pure exhaustion or Eric’s persuasion, you found yourself settling in a position good enough to allow yourself to nap.

The victory smile that takes over Eric’s features is one you wish you could smack off his face for you know it’s because you ended up listening to him, but it’s also one you want to store in your memories. His grin is enough to have you smiling back, though you bury the bottom half of your face into the sleeves of his hoodie, getting another whiff of his perfume.

He then goes back to his laptop, scrolling away at what you can assume to be the instructions for the essay required by Mr. Hwang. As you watch him ponder, you cannot help but take in his features; from his strong jaw all the way to his eyes that manage to easily shift between a strong glare to a soft gaze. He is someone sculpted by the deities—you weren’t sure why the universe chose you to be graced by his presence.

In your time knowing him, you knew that he presented himself as a goofball to many. He became the life of the party, per se, for he managed to create a comfortable atmosphere for everyone.

And yet, you knew that it’s only a mask he chooses to wear for the sake of others. In these moments, you learn that he is more than just a childish guy. Past all the layers, he is profound—you first learned that when he shared his interpretation of Jo’s character. You hope that he can find more moments where he’ll expose that side to you.

You move your chin to rest on your arms. “Can I ask what’s your favorite book?” Your sudden question has his eyes snapping at you. “I just realized that we’ve known each other for half a semester because of an English Literature class, but I never bothered to ask about your favorite book.”

He cannot help but chuckle before saying, “It’s The Notebook.” His answer has your face contorting into disappointment. “Hey, what’s wrong with that?” The way he gets defensive has you erupting into a giggle.

“It’s just okay for me. I didn’t enjoy it that much when I read it.”

He furrows his eyebrows not due to disapproval but genuine curiosity. “Okay, so what’s your favorite book then?”

“Pride and Prejudice.” The answer leaves your mouth quickly, almost like it’s second nature to answer the question with that title.

He hums before admitting, “I’ve never read it.”

“Yeah, it shows.” The remark leaves your mouth without letting a second thought come. You notice the way Eric’s expression shifts into a scornful one, and you cannot help but giggle. “I just think that you might reconsider what your favorite book is after reading Pride and Prejudice, you know?” He only nods at your words.

You let out a sigh. “I actually want to reread that book after midterms are done.” Your blinks are slow, exhaustion taking over your body.

Eric is quick to notice how sleepy you’re getting. “Go to sleep. I’ll wake you up an hour from now.” All you do is hum before snuggling the lower half of your face into the sleeves of his hoodie, eyes now closed.

A few minutes pass, and you hear a chair screech softly. You can only assume that Eric had to use the washroom. But when you heard the chair move once more only a few minutes later, you were sure that he only had to get something.

As you hear him clear his throat for a moment, you keep your eyes closed. You try your best to not show you’re awake. And once more minutes have passed, you decide that the coast is clear.

Once you open one eye, you notice that Eric is leaning back in his chair with a book in his hand. He reads it intently, unaware of your gaze on him. You let your gaze drift to the cover of the book, and it takes everything in you to hold back a gasp. In his hands is a copy of Pride and Prejudice, the same one you found yourself revisiting just to read your favorite passages.

As you let your eyes close, a smile shows on your lips. Thankfully, it is hidden by the sleeves your face is snuggled into. With the sight replaying in your head accompanied by his perfume, your heart warms at the thought of him. You can only hope that he’ll love that book as much as you do—you can only hope that this infatuation will pass.

CHAPTER FOUR: EMMA

The season of fall has come; the sky is a patchwork of hues of orange; the leaves have turned to shades of brown; the wind has gotten cooler. Long gone was the heat that summer brought—you were dying to experience the joys of autumn.

Thankfully, you finished your last class for the day. As students piled out of the classroom, you were taking your time tidying your things. For once, you didn’t have any tasks to accomplish within the day which meant tonight would be time for you to enjoy, all snuggled up in bed as you finally reread Pride and Prejudice.

You were satisfied with the grades you received from your midterm assessments. Somehow, your efforts spent studying reflected well in the feedback your professors provided. Now, you can reward yourself with reading your favorite book.

When you exit the classroom, you expect yourself to go straight back to your dorm. However, the sight of Eric Sohn standing outside with his back leaning on the wall is what disrupts your plans.

“Eric? How did you know I was here?” Your shocked expression has him chuckling.

“We exchanged schedules, remember?” He says as he stands up straight, walking closer to you. You two stood in the middle of the hallway with little to no students in sight. “I kind of got lost, if I’m going to be honest.”

As he admits that information, you cannot help but giggle. “I mean, this is where most of my major classes are. That’s why I’m surprised to see a Hotel Culinary Arts student like you here.” He shoots you that boyish grin which has you smiling back. “So, to what do I owe this pleasure? Do you perhaps need help with the upcoming assessment for Mr. Hwang’s class?” You attempt to joke as you remain unaware of the reason behind Eric’s visit.

But when he pulls out a book from behind his back, your smile shifts into a shocked expression. In his hands is a new copy of Pride and Prejudice, one different from the one that he was reading in the library that one night. As your eyes zero on the book he holds, you do not pay attention to whatever expression Eric may have.

“I finally got around to reading your favorite book, and I have to admit that you’re right. I think this might be my new favorite book,” he hands the book to you. Your hands trail over the cover, still shocked that he ended up finishing it. “And I wanted to finish it before you reread it.”

You were expecting him to only read a few chapters, but for him to find enough time to finish it before you could pick it up? You realized you were screwed.

Your hands find themselves flipping through the pages—and holy shit, there are notes and scribbles all over the pages. “I wanted to annotate it just so you can also read my reactions and interpretations as you reread it.” Your mouth parts open at his words, clearly in awe of the action.

The pages are littered with underlines and circles, highlighting passages and quotes that seem to resonate with Eric. On the margins, you notice notes that are simple one-liners and others that are long enough to fill up the pages’ spaces.

“I–I don’t,” you look up to the boy in front of you. With his smile still plastered on his face, you do everything in you to find the right words to say. Yet, it’s impossible—this is the first time someone has done this for you.

He chuckles at your lack of words and says, “I would love to stay and hear how much you enjoy this, but I unfortunately have a class to get to all the way in the Culinary Arts building.” He lets his hand rest on your shoulder, squeezing it as if it’s his way to snap you out of your trance.

But the thing is you are not in any way out of touch with reality. Not only did he give you an annotated copy of your favorite book but he waited until your last class in a building that is all the way on the opposite side of where he needs to be. And at this moment you knew you were doomed—that this budding infatuation is turning into something more.

“I’ll see you next week in class, okay?” He says with a smile. You can only nod, still unable to speak. “Or tomorrow, if you’d like.” And before you can question him, he quickly makes his way out of the building. You let your eyes watch his figure that continues to sprint away.

As soon as he’s gone, you look back down at the book in your hands. You flip through the pages as you still remain in shock at what he gifted you. That is until you notice a post-it note stuck on the last page. When you open it to the page, you expect it to be an index of what his annotations mean. Instead, it is a message directed towards you, and you cannot help but feel your heartstrings tug at his words.

would you be interested in going on a reading date with me?

❑ yes ❑ no </3

p.s. you can just text me your answer :) maybe we can plan something tomorrow (that is if you see it by the time i give this to you)

And you tell yourself that this is wrong—that you should not be considering his offer no matter how friendly it may be. But with how he’s been treating you, you almost hope that this isn’t just him being friendly. You want to be on the receiving end of his affection—of his love.

It seems stupid to go back on your word of refusing to entertain love. Your plans are focused on graduating summa cum laude without ever allocating space for someone to take up your time. But is it wrong that someone has you reconsidering what you originally thought? Is it a sin for you to want to experience the joys of love despite your past reluctance?

So for once, you fully understand Jo’s character—you want to achieve in your endeavors all while experiencing the joys of love. And there’s nothing wrong with having that mindset after all.

The season of autumn is your favorite; the sight of leaves falling is a sight you cannot help but enjoy watching. In the same way leaves fall from the tree to the ground, you have fallen for Eric Sohn.

CHAPTER FIVE: SONNET 18

“So, what’s your favorite scene from Pride and Prejudice?” You decide to ask Eric as you two pass through shelves filled to the brim with antique books.

He hums as he follows closely behind you. “I think it was the first time Lizzie and Mr. Darcy danced together.”

You glance at the boy behind you, humming along with his answer. “Yeah, I really like Austen’s use of the motif of dance.” You come to a halt as you stand in front of a shelf full of classics. “I mean, she uses dance to show attraction between Mr. Darcy and Lizzie without them even realizing it.” Once you turn your head to face Eric, you notice a smile on his lips.

“Yeah, they’re remarkable,” he mutters as his eyes remain on you.

Under his gaze, your knees start to get weak. You cannot help but gulp as you look back to the shelves with cheeks dusted red.

Today, you and Eric were in the middle of a date—not a reading one, but an actual date. At first, you were nervous about having lunch with him mainly because you weren’t sure what to talk about. But he found a way to lead the conversation, making sure to build an environment where you two could talk about anything and everything.

Eric decided to bring you to an antique bookstore near campus considering that you two share an affinity for reading—though you were more interested compared to him. The selection they have covers fictional classics all the way to nonfiction recipe books. It’s definitely smaller than what the library offers but bigger than another bookstore you tend to frequent.

As your eyes scan through the collection, your eyes catch onto a copy of Sense and Sensibility, another book by Jane Austen that you’ve been meaning to pick up. “Ah! I’ve been meaning to read this,” you exclaim as you pull it out. With your eyes still looking through the selection, you spot another book you’ve wanted to read for a while. “Oh, they also have Wuthering Heights!” As you grab onto the other book, you look down to admire the covers.

While you’re entranced by all the antique books standing in front of you, Eric cannot help but chuckle at your reaction. You whip your head only to see that god-forbidden boyish grin on his face—the same one that got you hooked onto him at the first meeting. He leans his side on the bookshelf all while he stares at you.

With that, you frown as you tilt your head. “Why are you laughing?” The question that leaves your mouth is out of genuine curiosity.

“No reason,” he starts off. “You’re pretty, especially when you talk about books.”

Your eyebrows raise in shock, thrown off by the sudden compliment. Eric has never been the type to tell you such during your time knowing him but hearing him say it now has your knees weak. Suddenly, all resolve was gone and you had no idea how to respond.

And before you know it, you say, “You’re pretty, too.”

The words come out quickly without a second thought, and only when they leave your mouth do you realize how weird you are for saying such. But you notice the way his smile gets bigger, and you cannot help but feel your cheeks warm up once more out of flusters and embarrassment.

“Are you done picking out the books you want?”

“Uh, yeah,” you start off as you glance at your books. “What are you going to get?”

He hums as he stands up straight, looking at the shelf in front of you two. “Do you have another book recommendation for me?” He looks back at you.

You bite the inside of your cheek as you hum, thinking of a book. “Maybe Jane Eyre? By Charlotte Brontë?” You’re ready to tell him the synopsis of the book, but he doesn’t spare you another second for he grabs the book.

“Okay,” he smiles as he raises the book up. “I’ll pay for your books while I’m at it.”

You immediately shake your head at his words. “Huh? No, you don’t need to.” You hold the books close to your chest. “You paid for lunch already.”

He rolls his eyes before extending his free hand out to you. “It’s fine. I want to buy these books for you.” Your eyes are wide as you slowly feel yourself moving the stack of books away from your chest. “So long as we get to have that reading date, I’m happy to buy them for you.”

You would deny his offer, but you hate to admit that the idea of having someone you like buy the books you’ve been wanting to read has your heart warming. Buying you books, reading your recommendations, and annotating a book just for you—they’re the easiest ways to your heart, and he figured them out.

With that, you find yourself handing the two books to him. He smiles as he glances at the three books in his hands. And before you know it, he quickly links his arm with you as he drags you to the cashier. You don’t know how you got lucky to know a guy like him.

CHAPTER SIX: SO TIRED BLUES

Usually, the hours of the night are the ones you find most comfort in. It’s the illusion of being away from the hours that demanded you to interact with others. You love spending your time alone doing whatever, whether it may be your own hobbies or the coursework you need to accomplish. This time of day had you in a state of tranquility, at most, for you were comforted with the idea that nothing can disturb you.

But for once, you weren’t calm during these hours. As you stare at your shared document that barely had any input from your groupmates, you feel your sanity slipping away. This assessment is due two days from now—what can your groupmates offer during this time crunch?

You lean your head in your hands as your eyes rest on your keyboard. As you let out a groan, you cannot help but grip your hair out of frustration.

“What’s wrong?”

As you look at your friend who sits beside you, you cannot help but pout. “Eric, I can’t do this.”

Despite these hours being reserved for your alone time, you chose to spend these with him. The date was a success—you two were practically inseparable at this point. But you two were still going on dates without any expectation, still exploring whatever you two truly felt towards each other.

To be fair, you were still hesitant about jumping into a relationship with him. You still weren’t sure how possible it was for you to handle your studies along with being in a relationship. And you hate to admit it but you’re terrified—what if the love you read about is nothing like what you’ll experience with Eric?

So for now, you’ll only allow yourself to enjoy what you have now. It is only when the universe forces you to confront these sentiments that you’ll figure out the answer.

He crosses his arm as he leans back in the booth you two sat on. “You want to tell me about it?” And for a moment, you consider not doing such. You didn’t want to waste both yours and Eric’s time complaining about shitty and unresponsive groupmates.

But he doesn’t give you a moment to indulge any further in those worries, for he says, “We have enough time for you to talk about it.” He shows you a smile, one that is enough to bring you comfort. “Let me become someone you can lean on.”

And with that, you find yourself spilling out your frustrations. “I’ve just been so stressed, you know? My group mates are so shit, I’m not sure how good of an output we’ll be able to submit on time,” you start off. “I’ve been reminding them nonstop to do their work, and they just keep ignoring me. And it doesn’t help that my professor doesn’t give a fuck.”

Eric cannot help but let out a hiss of annoyance at your situation. “That’s terrible.”

“I know, right? And this assessment is at least 30% of my grade. How am I going to get an A in this class if my groupmates refuse to help?” You cannot help but groan as you lean back.

As you stare up at the ceiling, you tongue the inside of your cheek as you ponder over the situation you’re in. And you’re not sure what takes over you when you share your next set of thoughts. “I just–I want to achieve so many things, but it’s so hard when you’re not supported.”

Despite your eyes staring up at the ceiling, you can feel Eric’s gaze on you as you reveal a part you’ve never shared with him. So you let out a sigh before saying, “I know I talk so much about wanting to ace all my subjects and graduate with flying colors, but some days it’s hard to keep up with that type of mentality.” You let your eyes close for a moment. “It’s hard to aspire for so many things when you don’t have someone to fall back on.”

Although you have the passion to achieve the different goals you set for yourself, it becomes impossible to keep that fire going on most days. Sure, you had friends from your course and extracurriculars, but they were never ones you could find yourself going to easily. In most instances, you would be by yourself as you were scared to insert yourself into people’s circles.

With that lack of a support system, it became difficult to attain your goal. Although you try your hardest to keep your mind set on the prize, you cannot deny that you find yourself slipping into burnout in most instances.

“I feel like I’m teetering on the edge of burnout, you know? And I know most people would say to take a break or to indulge in a hobby, but,” you look at the boy beside you whose face is full of concern. “I’m exhausted from reading.”

It’s something you didn’t like to admit out loud. Eric knew you as the person who would read at any hour if they could—the one who wishes they could consume books even while asleep. So it hurts to say that you were growing tired of the hobby—the one thing that provided you escapism.

You let out a bitter chuckle as your tired eyes drifted away from him, staring off into the distance. “It gets hard to read when all you do in a course is read. It requires so much energy, and most days I just don’t have that.” As you say those words, you let out a sigh. “And even when I forced myself to read, whether it would be for my own pleasure or a requirement for school, I could never digest the passages.”

Eric hums at your reveal. And when he reaches out for your hand, it feels as if all your worries are lifted off your shoulders. “Is there any way that I can help?”

You cannot help but chuckle as your eyes rest back on him. With his worried expression, you only show him a small smile. “No,” you shake your head. “But it’s fine. I’m glad that someone listened to me.”

It’s not like you were aiming to have your problems solved by him. If anything, you realize how much weight was lifted off of you after admitting these to a friend.

“Yeah,” he sighs. “I’m sorry I can’t do much to help you, especially with your group work.”

You can only hum as you take a deep breath. “Yeah. I just need to take over their parts and remove their names, I guess.” As you say that, Eric cannot help but nod along with a chuckle leaving his mouth.

You’re about to get back to the work you were dreading until he asks you something. “Hey, I don’t know how much this would help, but maybe I can read you some passages of where I am in The Awakening if you’d like.” Your eyes widen at his suggestion. “I’m sure you’re way ahead of me but this could be a refresher, you know? While you take a break, I can be your audiobook.”

And you cannot hold back the smile that shows on your lips. Somehow, Eric is always looking out for you, whether it be through keeping your love for literature going or making sure you are well-rested on most occasions.

With that, you find yourself leaning your head on his shoulder. As you let your eyes close, you mutter, “Yes, please.”

He chuckles at the way you seem to melt on his shoulder. And just like that, he starts to recite the words of Chopin.

As his voice fills your ears, you’re reminded of the first time you first met Eric. Something about his voice is enough to ease your worries—to bring you into a state of tranquility. And somehow, he became the late hours of the day for you—you’ve managed to find peace through his presence for all he did is support you.

CHAPTER SEVEN: HOW DO I LOVE THEE? LET ME COUNT THE WAYS

It seems like the season of fall is about to end. It’s getting colder than usual and you cannot help but wear more layers than you typically would during autumn. Although winter is about to come, however, you were seated on a picnic blanket with your back leaning against a tree trunk. And on your lap is where Eric’s head lays as he continues to read Jane Eyre.

While you were trying to read your copy of Wuthering Heights, you couldn’t help but glance at Eric every once in a while. After going on multiple dates with him throughout the semester, you weren’t sure exactly where you two were in your relationship. And you know you should take the initiative to ask, but you didn’t want to say the wrong words.

“Eric,” you call out his name as your voice quivers. He looks away from his book to stare right back at you. As he hums in curiosity, you cannot help but bite the inside of your cheek. “I have a question.”

“Shoot.”

“Why did you sit beside me?” You notice his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “During the first meeting, I mean. Why did you choose to sit beside me when there were other vacant spots?” As you say those words, you spot how his mouth parts open in realization. However, it shifts into a smug grin.

“Cause I thought you were cute.” His reply has your eyes widening in shock. You knew Eric tends to be straightforward, but you weren’t expecting that to be his answer. You were sure that your cheeks were warm at his reasoning.

He then sits up, now face-to-face with you. “Well, that’s what I thought at first. But I got to know you more through the times we studied together, you know?” With his eyes staring intently back at yours, you can hear your heartbeat in your ears.

“I mean, the first time I got to know you, you were talking about how you wouldn’t entertain the idea of romance, so I couldn’t help but become interested in you.” His hand reaches out for yours that rests on your lap. “And throughout our time together, I learned about all your hopes and dreams and your love for literature.”

You notice the way he takes a deep breath in as his eyes close momentarily. “I couldn’t help but like you,” he admits. As soon as he opens his eyes, he is met by yours that are wide as they stare back at him.

“I’m sure it wasn’t a secret with how we were going on dates, but I thought I should vocalize it now,” he starts off as he looks down at your interlocked hands. “I was starting to wish that these dates would give you enough of a reason to reconsider what you first thought—that maybe I could become a reason for you to reconsider after all.”

But as soon as he looks back at you, you feel your heartstrings tug as he draws circles on the back of your hand with his thumb. And the next thing he says is enough to warm your heart. “But I would never push you into a relationship with me. I know you care about your studies, and you worry too much about your grades. Sometimes, I wish I could tell you to take it easy.” He cannot help but giggle as he says those words, causing you to laugh along with him.

“But I hope you know that I’ll be here to support you, whether as a friend or as your boyfriend if you’ll have me.”

And you realize that you’ve been wrong all this time. You’ve fallen under this idea that the road to success means to get rid of all distractions—that love is nothing but a hindrance to the path you want to take. But it’s not that you can only have one or the other—you could choose to have both if you made the effort to do so.

In your time knowing Eric Sohn, you learned the joys of love even if you weren’t signing up for such joys came in the form of him. To you, he is what the poets describe as love embodied. From the first time you two worked together all the way to midterm season until your breakdown, you realize that he is the support you were seeking out all this time. And so you wonder to yourself how lucky you can be to receive something you weren’t seeking but still desperately craved.

So you let yourself lean forward, your face inching closer to his. His breath hitches at your action. As your eyes flicker down to his lips for a second, you cannot help but hear your heartbeat in your ears. Your eyes meet his, and you notice the way he holds his breath. So you cannot help but let yourself smile for a moment.

And before he knows it, your lips crash into his. Your hand reaches out to the side of his face while your arm wraps around the back of his neck, holding him close. His hand holds onto your waist, drawing shapes on it with his thumb.

As your noses bump against each other, Eric cannot help but giggle in the middle of the kiss. You two part away as you continue to look at each other. “So, will you let me be yours?” And his question is enough to pull on your heartstrings.

It’s the phrasing that gets to you—his choice of words to let him be yours versus you being his is what has you realizing just how much he likes you. It’s this whole idea that you didn’t have to surrender anything to him for he is willing to build around you.

But the reality is you would do the same for him—you’re willing to make space for him to take up in your life the same way he already has done for you.

And so you say, “You can be mine if you let me be yours.”

The boyish grin you first found yourself falling in love with appears on his face. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You wish you could tell your past self that nothing goes according to plan. What you may have first thought is not what may push through in the end. While you were never signing up to find love in your years in university, the universe decided to give you a reason to reconsider. And now you know that you can have both—that you can achieve your aspirations while still being in love. All it took was time, effort, support, and a boy named Eric Sohn to have you believe that.

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#zzoguri works #deoboyznet #kflixnet #bjnet #k-labels #eric sohn #the boyz #the boyz x reader #eric sohn x reader #the boyz imagines #sohn youngjae #sohn youngjae x reader #eric sohn imagines #sohn youngjae imagines #eric sohn fluff #sohn youngjae fluff

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itsgrimeytime · 1 month

Text

The Lover (Part Two) || Rick Grimes (TWD) x gn!reader

1, 2...

series taglist: @catlalice

rick grimes taglist: @golden-hoax @mgparker @zomb-1-egutzz

AVAILABLE ON AO3

The Sequel to The Nurse (my series masterlist)

Summary: A long time ago, you were Rick Grimes's nurse. Now, you loved him, and he loved you. Or at least that's where you left it off. With Judith safe in your arms and Rick distinctly not by your side, you could only hope his feelings stayed the same because they sure as hell did for you.

TWs: threatening someone's life, vague mention of murder, blades, and all things TWD.

[[A/N: Takes place right after part 1. Also, I know literally nothing about Aaron and Eric so like sorry if their characterization is off. Enjoy :))) ]]

"Where is Alexandria?"

"What?" The man asked, incredulously.

"Alexandria," you restated -voice low, hand unwavering, "-I know you come from there. I've been tailing you for hours-"

"We can't just," the man paused, eyeing the axe, "-Why do you want to go? How did you even hear about it?"

You pursed your lips, replying vaguely, "It's safe, isn't it?"

The man just skimmed over you a second, almost like he was judging you, "We can't just-"

"Is it safe?" You repeated.

He took a breath in, "Yes, yeah, it's safe, but there's a system. We can't just let anyone in. I'm sorry-"

Sirens were going off in your head, as your knuckles turned white against the handle of your axe. Your eyes twitched, and your jaw set. All you could hear was Judith, Judith, Judith-

"I need to go there," you said -simply.

The man looked at you a little like you'd explode, and he was probably right, "Why?"

"I'm a nurse, or... or I was," you deflected, voice a little softer, shakier, "-I can help. Help your people."

He seemed to think on it a moment, eyeing you. There was something else, particularly tied to your chest at the current moment, but your instincts were screaming. You needed to protect, you couldn't just let them know. But he wasn't going to budge, not until you did.

Taking in a shaky breath, you pulled the axe back and hoisted it onto your belt. Walking a few steps back, you rolled your lips in-between your teeth. It felt so heavy on your tongue, in your shoulders, almost like you couldn't do it.

"I need to be safe," you repeated, weakly.

Judith was hidden but the fabric that tied her to you like one of those slings you put babies in. It's an extra layer really, to protect her, but right now it was blocking her off from lingering eyes; from an outsider's perspective, it looked like you just had supplies there. And she was fast asleep, so she didn't move an inch.

Both men were looking at you now, and you felt your footing sway. Something in your breath catching, you really didn't want to risk her. But, she needed to be safe in the long term, cared for properly, fed, sheltered-

You inhaled, eyes darting over the two of them, and carefully pulled down the fabric over her head -revealing her head and the little hair she had. Both men stalled in place.

You mindlessly repeated, "I need to be safe."

"You..."

"That's a-" one of them swallowed, "-a baby. How long have you...?"

"Few days," you replied, shortly, "-lost our shelter, escaped."

Their eyes both swam along you for a second, as you gently pulled the fabric over her head again -she was fidgeting a little (you brushed a hand down her back, instinctively). Both men seemed to process a moment, eyes hinging on her tight to your chest. You couldn't decide whether or not to tell them more, like maybe on the off chance they'd seen anybody-

"I'm Aaron," one of the men spoke, carefully, before pointing to the other one, "-and this is my husband, Eric."

The man, Eric, smiled at you; you stood decidedly still and expressionless.

"Y/N," you responded, plainly. Something in your stomach biting up (protect, protect, protect).

"And the baby?"

You gnawed on your lip, fingers tightening into a fist -back and forth, back and forth. Your tongue felt like lead in your mouth, and you just kept darting between the men, waiting for one of them to do or say something (on guard). They both did nothing, and it made you feel a lot of things at once.

"We won't-" Aaron started, "-We're not going to hurt you, or... or the baby."

Your eyes flickered along the both of them, staring. Trying to really see what they were saying, to see if they were lying or not. Even still, you felt part of you relax. It had been a long time since someone came in peace and an even longer time since you'd allowed yourself to think that they actually were.

Taking the two of them in, you decided.

With a shaky breath, you spoke -gently, "Judith."

"Judith," Eric repeated, smiling a little -maybe trying to make you feel at ease (it did just a little), "-that's a nice name."

I didn't give it, your mind chimed.

"You said," you started, cautiously, "-You said there's a system, are you... are you a part of that system?"

"We're recruiters," Aaron clarified, "-we watch groups, and see if they're a good match for Alexandria."

"Is that-" you blinked, "-Is that what you're doing now?"

"Yes, we just spotted them, not really seen much, but yeah," Eric answered -softly, "-Why? Are you looking for someone?"

You bit your lip a second, eyeing the two of them. If anyone would know, it would be them. Anybody being around here, they were supposed to find them, watch them; if they were alive, they'd seen them or would see them.

"Her Dad," you echoed out, "-and, and her brother. His name's Rick and her brother's name is Carl. He... He wears a sheriff's hat, or... he used to-"

"Rick," Aaron spoke to himself, as if he was remembering, "-Carl, and a sheriff's hat. Okay."

You took a deep breath, something in you shaking, "Do you think you'll find them?"

Eric paused, "We can't promise anything, but we'll try our best."

You nodded, succinctly. Hands shaking a little, you clenched them into fists by your side.

"Have you eaten?"

You rolled your lip through your teeth, answering shortly (you hadn't really been speaking a lot), "Yesterday... a little."

"And Judith?" Aaron followed up.

"She has formula," you answered -briskly, "-I feed her pretty regularly."

"Good, that's-" he cleared his throat, "-that's good."

You bit at your lip, taking a deep breath in. Your eyes smoothing along the two of them, you tapped your foot, and brought one hand up to smooth along Judith's back, "So?"

Aaron sighed, looking at Eric (they shared a gentle sort of glance), "Yeah, yeah, we can... we can take you."

You let out a breath, eyes foggy up a little (your lip trembling). God, she was going to be safe. You had been working so hard-

Safe, safe, safe. She was going to be safe.

You tried to school the sob that climbed up your throat, Judith was going to be fine. Cared for, sheltered. She might be the last of the Grimes (bile twisted in your stomach) and she would live. You'd do everything in your power to make sure she did. Everything.

The men looked at you a little with pity, eyes darting to your eyes -you knew them to be shiny at this point. You wouldn't cry then, though, you'd gone so far without crying-

"Thank you," you whispered, and maybe it was a little shaky but they didn't say anything (gratefully).

"Let's figure this out," Aaron started, offering you a spot to sit and seemingly some food that was cooking on the fire. They both sat on the opposite side, probably understanding your hesitance to be near anyone. It had been a few days (as far as you knew), yeah, but you'd been running on adrenaline totally and completely.

You carefully took the food, eyeing them both extensively. If they rose a hand-

"I think," Eric interrupted the thought process, "-I think it's best if I take them back to Alexandria."

"What?" Aaron asked, seemingly concerned.

"Look," he soothed, gently touching his hand (something in your mind chimed Rick), "-you need to keep watch of the group, see if they're worth entry. And-"

His eyes darted over you and Judith, particularly your eyebags.

"-I think both of them need to be safe. As soon as possible."

"Yeah, but alone?"

"They seem to handle themselves well," Eric offered, and you slowly nodded (you were used to it all at this point), "-With the both of us, we're bound to get there in one piece."

Aaron pursed his lips, eyes skimming over his husband and then you. He seemed to look at you critically. It made you conscious of the blood staining your face and the symbolic stain of blood on your hands. You'd done a lot that you would one day regret, but with Judith? All you wanted was her safe.

"And you-" he started, "-you'll keep him safe?"

"I don't know you both, but-" you licked along your teeth, trying to find the right words, "-if Judith will be safe and he can bring me there, I'll do whatever I have to."

"So," he tsked, "-you will?"

"I'd do anything for her to be safe," you confirmed, one hand gently cupping her head, "-and that includes keeping your husband safe."

He nodded succinctly before Eric questioned, "You said you were a nurse before, right?"

Your mind flashed with bloody hands, unhinged jaws, hospital beds, bordered up doors and windows. And then, you saw the same things behind prison bars.

"Yes," you answered, shortly, "-I was the medic at my last shelter."

"And when it all started?"

You swallowed, picturing locked rooms and one last patient (Rick, Rick, Rick), "I was at work. I saw the beginning of it all."

"The frontlines," Aaron remarked, slowly.

"They kept us in the hospital," you picked at the food, absentmindedly, "-I slept in an on-call room. Saw the first few where I was, rooms became cells, walkers clawed against the glass. They would tell us about vaccines, I watched them all fail."

"Jesus Christ," Eric hissed.

"But you left, eventually?" Aaron asked, carefully.

"Eventually," you put the food into your mouth, stomach screaming out. You didn't want to remind yourself of more, it made everything in you twist and pull. It made you think of Rick and Carl now, not just the death and your coworkers. You felt a little like you might throw up.

"You'll tell me if you find them, right?"

"Rick? And-" Aaron paused a moment, "-uh, Carl?"

"Yeah," you responded, quietly.

"Hopefully," Eric eyed you (maybe deciding on what you should hear in your current state), before gently saying, "-Aaron will find them and bring them to Alexandria."

"Would you?" you asked, and they looked at you confused, so you clarified, "-Bring them to Alexandria?"

Aaron looked at Eric a second, before rolling his teeth along his lips, "Yeah, yeah... If I find them, I'll bring them."

"Rick, he might," you paused, thinking of eyepatches and sacrifices, "-he might be hesitant, he doesn't... The wrong people have made communities-"

They both looked at you attentively.

"-and without... without me and Judith, I-" you cleared your throat, eyes a little foggy, "-I don't know what he'll be like. But he's a good man, a good man. You have to bring him back to me, to... to us."

Aaron nodded, eyes flickering over you, "You have any ideas on how to get him to trust me? If I find him?"

You pursed your lips, carefully thinking. You remembered him when he lost Lori, he was barely living, the only thing that kept him sane was Carl. Judith was too much for him then. He stayed sane, kept living because of who he loved.

You'd like to say that you helped, but Carl... Carl was the reason he came back at all, and maybe, at his core, Judith. And eventually, eventually, you were on that list.

"I'd never stop... I'd never stop lookin' for ya."

"Tell him," you started, hope a flame in your chest (they're alive, they're alive), "-Tell him that you found us."

#rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #its griming time #stuff n' thangs #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x y/n #ricky dicky doo dah grimes #twd #twd rick #rick grimes x y/n fanfiction #the nurse #nurse!reader #doctor!reader #the lover

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red-pill-blue-pill · 10 months

Text

As friends.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Miller

Summary: Joel is your friend, he just happens to be really handsome

Warnings: mild spice towards the end ??? just in case, fluff, friends to lovers (just so y'all know I'm a sucker for that shit)

a/n: I wanted to write a little blurb but it got outta hand. This is is my first time writing for the Joel Miller and i'm nervous (I love this character so much) so please be kind 💖

His living room was dimly lit by one of the lamps next to the couch. Something played in the background, blues you think. He had found a record player a couple of weeks ago while he was patrolling with Tommy. He had even come across some records in perfect condition, tucked inside a tattered wardrobe. He was such a lucky fucker.

When he came back, he showed them off to you while saying something along the lines of “‘f you wanna listen to them you gotta come to mine, sweetheart” flashing you one of his now familiar cocky smiles, as if he needed to convince you to spend time with him.

Your stomach still churns at the nickname and you chastise yourself every time, for letting your mind even dare to go down that path when it’s Joel the one you’re talking about, for even thinking about him that way. Joel, your fucking friend. It had to be the lack of romantic action in your life. It had been so long since you last were with someone that your brain had to be confused. No one in Jackson had caught your eye for the last couple of years, nor tried to make any advances to you, and who would have dared when you were next to Joel —mean scary Joel— every single day?

Still, you didn’t care, you spent most of your free time either with him or at his house, playing games with Ellie while he was on patrol or sipping on wine and talking about your day when he fixed you a nice dinner. Like right now, back at his living room, soft blues playing in the background and the soft orange light from his lamp rendering the room even cozier.

You were sitting on his sofa, glass of wine in hand. Blues had never been your type of music, at least not until Joel showed you one of the records he found on patrol, an Eric Clapton one, a smile from ear to ear and an excited “Look what I’ve found, I reckon you gon’ love it.”

But now, as you look at him sprawled on the couch, his head —his big ass, heavy head— resting on your legs with his eyes closed and humming softly to the song, you believe it may be your favorite.

You sipped on your wine and carded your fingers softly through his hair, relishing in the feeling of his hair through your fingers. You looked down at him, his face was completely relaxed, the familiar pull of his frown nowhere to be seen. He looked so peaceful like this, his long lashes fanned over his cheeks and the light casted soft shadows over his face. He was so handsome.

“You are so handsome” your mouth spoke before your brain could catch up. His eyes opened, orbs completely dark thanks to the lightning, and he quirked a brow, clearly amused at your comment. You tried to recover quickly “And I’m just saying this the way a friend calls another friend cute, don’t get too excited.” You chuckled.

Lies, lies, lies.

He scoffed, “Yeah, right.” he closed his eyes again, letting himself enjoy the feeling of your deft fingers through his hair. “Who you tryna fool, sweetheart? ‘m as old as time.”

You stretched your arm to place the wine glass on the coffee table, careful to not disturb Joel with the motion. This time, your now free hand went to trace the lines on his forehead so softly, a barely there touch. A shiver ran down his spine. It had been a long time since someone touched him with such care, as if he was some precious relic, only to be treated with care.

“Hate that you can’t see what I see, Joel” your voice was soft, charged with love, but still stern. You hated when he was self deprecating, which unfortunately was very often.

“And what is it you see?” he swallowed the lump in his throat. Why were his hands sweating all of a sudden?

Your fingers drifted to the lines around his eyes, tracing them with your fingertips. “For starters you’re rugged and strong and that’s just plain attractive. Besides, you think age kills beauty, but it’s quite the opposite.” His eyes opened once again and gazed up at you, something you couldn’t quite make out swirling in them. You continued, trying to ignore the heat of his stare “The lines in your face… they mean you’ve lived, you’re alive.” you are here with me

“What do you mean?” his voice was barely above a whisper, hoarse because of the sudden dryness that had taken over his mouth.

“This one right here” you smoothed out his semi-permanent frown with your thumb “tells me you’ve got very few friends.”

“m‘kay, that’s rude.” he feigned hurt for a few seconds, then he saw your bright smile. That goddamned smile, the one he never got tired of seeing. And then he smiled too. A small and barely there grin.

“Then the ones around your eyes”, your fingers skimmed over his crows feet, “they tell me that you’ve laughed and smiled a lot, that despite this nightmare we’ve found ourselves in, you were happy once.”

Silent fell over the room, Eric Clapton sang in the background as Joel and you played at your personal staring contest, one charged with unspoken feelings. His eyes were wide in surprise, searching your face, looking for something you sure fucking hoped he found in the way your soft eyes looked back at him. Your fingers still threaded through his locks, not once having stopped since he laid his head on your legs. Everything felt intimate, maybe way too intimate for just a couple of good friends having some wine after dinner.

A nervousness settled in your bones, the kind of feeling you get when you know something’s about to happen but you don’t know what. Your heartbeat picked up, it thumped wildly against your chest, your eardrums, all along your veins. Then you cleared your throat, unable to stand the silence any longer. “Anyway, as I said, you are handsome.” you let out an awkward breathy laugh. “I‘m telling you as a friend” you quickly added. Again. For good measurement, right?

He sat back up on the sofa, his body slightly twisted to face you. In the daze of the moment you had completely forgotten how broad he actually was, his knee pressing against your thigh. “As a friend…” he echoed back at you, a teasing smile spreading over his features. God, he was going to be the death of you.

You reached back for your wine glass and nodded absentmindedly before taking a long gulp, not daring to look him in the eyes just yet. Suddenly, his hand cupped your face softly, fingers pressing lightly into your cheeks, encouraging you to look at him. His eyes were filled with tenderness and the kind of hope you have when love is still a possibility. His lips were mere inches from yours, his breath mingling with yours.

“Would’ya mind if I kissed you, sweetheart?” his voice was low and syrupy and it ignited a different kind of desire in you, something you had never felt before, raw, primal. You inhaled sharply and before you were even able to answer he added “As friends, that is.” he chuckled, clearly proud of himself for teasing you, and you smiled fondly.

“Ain’t that what really good friends do?” you laughed breathily.

“Oh, I reckon they do a whole lot more than that.”

His lips pressed softly against yours, a softness you knew Joel was capable of but you had never experienced it yourself. Now, after getting a taste you didn't want to live without it. His hand moved to cup the back of your head, tangling with the hair at the nape of your neck, keeping you against his lips, deepening the kiss. Your hands found purchase on his shoulders, and thank god because suddenly Joel was grabbing your thighs and pulling you to straddle his lap.

He took advantage of the gasp of surprise that left your lips and licked greedily into your mouth. His hands roamed your back, going down occasionally to squeeze your ass over your jeans, relishing in the whimpers he pulled from you. Your hips started moving on their own accord, rutting against Joel’s growing bulge, making a deep groan rumble on his chest.

You tugged on his hair to break the kiss and stared dreamily at him. His pupils were blown out, his half lidded eyes hazy with lust, his lips swollen and red from kissing and a light shade of red tinted his cheeks. He was positively fucked out.

“You want this?” he asked while playing with the hem of your t-shirt, ducking his head once again to lick and kiss at your neck.

You could only muster a distracted “Hmh” as you kept rutting your hips against his. “As friends?” you asked between whimpers.

He pulled away to look at you, a hint amusement in his eyes as he took in the cocky grin you were sporting despite the lust filled gaze directed at him. His hands slipped past the waistband of your jeans, grabbing your panties from behind and pulling till the fabric rubbed against your clit. You couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips.

“As friends” he answered before claiming your mouth once again.

#joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller/reader #joel miller #joel miller fic #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #the last of us #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal

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trans-luis-serra-navarro · 24 days

Note

HI ERIC HELLO PLEASE HEAR ME OUT

i literally can't stop thinking about something

i loveee re6 AUs with luis, but

death island!luis !!!!

specifically, a scenario where he saves leon instead of/with rebecca. like imagine him working with rebecca on the vaccine and delivering it to the island to save leon and the rest 😭😭

and i actually see two scenarios here

either luis is obviously alive and all, and leon knows it, and it's just, hey! my husband's here to save the day!!

OR it's a big reveal lol. rebecca shows up there like, 'a friend helped me', and it's LUIS there with her. like, i know rebecca is super capable and she made the vaccine all alone in the movie , but just imagine if it was actually a bit more complicated, so she would have to reach out for help, and who would be better than luis

i NEED to see luis and rebecca team up, they'd work so well together 😭😭

and older serennedy!!!!! omg

i just need to see older luis 😭😭 and the parallel with him delivering the suppressant in re4, and now the vaccine

i don't know what i wanted to say with this and i really didn't think it through that well, and it's rushed, but i really need to share these thoughts 😭

@silverhexrt HI SO UM. THIS ASK WAS SENT IN JUST OVER A WEEK AGO and it gave me SUCH AGGRESSIVE brain worms that I was like Oh this would make for SUCH a cute little Drabble!!!!! But then I just. Kept going. So I accidentally made a whole entire fic for you!! I really truly hope you don’t mind!!!!!!!!! ;^^/

I know this blog is more of a character analysis blog so if you or anyone else still wants to talk to me about the LOGISTICS of what Luis in Death Island would look like I’d be MORE THAN HAPPY TO RAMBLE cuz I am SO FASCINATED by how that would work character and legalities wise,,, but uh for now!! I hope you don’t mind this little thingymadgig I made!!!

Fatigue was the overwhelming sensation dragging Leon’s body down. His breathing was labored and his skin burned against the Velcro of his protective gear- far from unfamiliar territory in terms of the worst symptoms he’d survived. But this somehow felt so, so much worse.

Leon felt like he was dying. Like actually dying. Which was downright terrifying.

He hated that he even knew what dying felt like. Leon could easily pick up on the little ways his body began to shut down; it felt like he couldn’t breath in far enough to fill his lungs, his limbs felt weighed down by an invisible force, his vision was blurry… except, this time, it was his own body killing him from the inside-out.

He was much more used to- even comfortable with- the close brush of death being from the hands of a Bioweapon or loose debris crushing his body. Leon at least had some level of control in those scenarios. He could kick and wriggle and spit and cuss out whatever was holding him down until a miracle freed him and he could load bullets into the face of whatever was hunting him.

But Leon couldn’t run from his own body, no. And oh, how badly did he wanna run until his legs burnt beneath him.

Leon had only ever felt that inherent, gut-wrenching urge one other time. One other time when he was on the brink of death and freedom alike; warm tan hands and cold needles in an isolated village so far from home. Leon could’ve taken the medicine and ran. He could’ve watched the world burn from behind his lovers back as they chased windmills without a care in the world.

He could’ve faced death in the eye. He could’ve taken the blade of the knife for him. He could’ve been just a fraction of a second too late for Ashley. Oh, the possibilities.

What a weird time to be thinking about Valdelobos. Maybe it was just his oxygen-deprived brain desperately trying to connect the dots for one last dream. Like falling asleep with the TV on and having a dream about the movie you’d just watched. Arias had his own ‘inspirations’ from Los Illuminados, after all. Maybe he was just trying to think of one last happy memory to drift off to.

Leon hoped dying would be a little bit like falling asleep. He was never religious, never superstitious- but deep down he hoped that he’d be reunited with the loved ones he’d lost. Finally, finally getting the chance to feel those warm palms against his cheek that he missed oh-so dearly.

Leon sighed and let the concrete below his hands wobble a little. He could just barely make out Chris and Claire’s labored breathing from behind him- the only other thing keeping him grounded.

But god was it getting hard. He couldn’t tell if it was just the pure exhaustion or the virus or what, but Leon’s head felt so heavy. Heavy enough that it almost felt as though somebody was holding it up for him. He let himself pretend, just for a moment, that it wasn’t just his imagination. That the warmth on his cheek wasn’t his flushed skin and were instead the hands of a lover, keeping him upright and rested against a beating heart that Leon was sure was just the blood roaring in his ears.

He let himself pretend that the stroke he felt against his cheek was his lovers thumb. A lover so considerate that they’d wipe the blood off of his skin and tuck the loose hair behind his ears. He pretended that the murmuring of his ears giving in was somebody talking to him, whispering comfort in his final moments.

Leon almost let himself give in completely to the imaginary man holding him- the distant scent of leather and cigarettes felt so real, after all- but a cold prick against his neck and the immedie, cold relief of fluids beneath his skin snapped him back to reality.

His breathing came back to him in time with his heartbeat, his fingertips pulsed with the sudden pumping of blood, and…

The feeling of somebody holding him hadn’t gone away.

His cheek was still warm with another man’s hand. His nose still stung with the smell of leather.

His heart was still beating in time with somebody else’s.

Leon hesitated. He didn’t want to open his eyes. He knew he was just dreaming- that he’d look up and the vision of the man he yearned for every night would disappear like a mirage. He wanted to keep them closed and pretend for as long as possible. Until-

“Leon? ¿Corazón? Mierda, Rebecca, he’s not responding-“

Leon’s eyes opened just slightly.

He was staring down at the concrete, somebody must’ve moved him to get access to his neck easier. But he wasn’t dreaming. He wasn’t dreaming of the arms clad in white wrapped around his shoulders and the ringlets of curls that fell around his vision, shielding him from the fluorescent Alcatraz prison lights.

Warm hands went back to stroking his cheek.

Leon wasn’t dreaming.

“Leon? Oh, please wake up,”

His voice sounded so broken, so quiet. Leon had never heard of it like that. It broke his heart.

“I can’t- I can’t leave you here, not like this, not again, please…”

Leon couldn’t take it anymore. He was terrified to roll over and face the man he’d chased in his dreams for so long but he had no other option. He’d rather he disappear and it all be his imagination than hear him this sad ever again.

Leon turned his head and blinked up at Luis like a newborn deer. His big, brown eyes were wet with tears but that stupidly charming smile was unmistakable.

“Hey there, Leon…”

Luis managed to croak out, the hand against his cheek trembling from the tears. Leon reached his own shaky hand up to brush Luis’ long, grayed locks out of his face just as he had done moments before for him.

“I must be dreaming,” Leon huffed out, and Luis chuckled, shaking his head and the tears from his reddened cheeks at the same time.

“If you’re dreaming, then so am I, I’m afraid”

“I’ll take my chances.”

Luis chuckled and Leon wasn’t far to follow suit. Even with the end of the world on his shoulders- even with Dylan fighting tooth-and-nail to break down his, Jill’s and everyone else’s spirits- Leon still found time to laugh with Luis like it was autumn of 2004 all over again.

“Just like old times, eh, Sancho?” Luis gave a little sniffle, and while Leon had more than too many questions to ask- how he was even alive was obviously the most pressing- he just couldn’t find it in himself to care.

“Yeah,”

He let himself rest his head against Luis’ chest. Heart beating strong, almost as if to mock Leon for ever doubting his lover's strength.

“Just like old times, Don Quixote…”

#ask #asks #fanfic #serennedy #luis serra #luis serra navarro #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #serrenedy #serrennedy #luis sera navarro #luis sera #re4r #resident evil 4 remake #re4 #resident evil 4 #resident evil death island #re death island

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cupidjyu · 10 months

Text

red flavor

eric x reader (submission for the cutest tbz summer event💕)

summary: your planned summer getaway doesn’t go as expected and it’s only you and eric, your childhood best friend. but, new feelings may just join you on your little vacation

genre: summer time!! beach house, childhood friends to lovers (my absolute fav btw), fluff, eric pining for years, getting together, cute little memories, feelings realization, juyeons just there for a second, slow dancing, slight hurt/comfort, eric's love language is fixing your hair, author is a big red velvet fan if you couldn't tell, love confession notes: this is more of a character/relationship study so if youre expecting a super simple oneshot with lesser description then im sorry🥲 songs mentioned are from this specific summer album LOL word count: 7.8k

Sometimes, you just liked to observe. A lot of people did anyway for various reasons. Some people, like your friend Juyeon, observed for the sake of reading others’ needs and emotions. He was always the one to notice when you were upset and he would hurry to make horrible puns just to make you laugh.

Other people, like Eric who’s been your best friend since the age when you two couldn’t even reach the kitchen counter, observed for the sake of learning who a person was as a whole. He was the one who took note of your tendency to shift energies and he would adjust his own to match yours.

You, on the other hand, liked to observe simply because what you saw brought you back to the past. You treasured good memories, so being able to see them again in the future brought a sense of joy to your heart like a flickering lightbulb.

In Eric’s room, there was a lot to observe that brought back the past. The broken science project of the solar system because you two were dancing too much late at night, the cut-out superhero mask that was supposed to be Eric’s last-minute Halloween costume in middle school, and the foolish paper heart that sparked it all in the first place.

Sitting on his bed, you then observed your two closest friends. Juyeon was on his phone whilst drinking from a water bottle—which he comically once tripped on that led to his lunch tray and its contents flying into your clothes. But that was how you became friends anyway. Eric was simply doodling in his sketchbook with a small, content smile. Just like he had done on that same paper heart in elementary school.

You felt a tap on your shoulder. Turning around, you were met with a boy, about your age with a backpack on that was much too big for him. He had a kind smile and bright eyes.

And then he shoved a red, paper heart in your hands. Though, it took you a second to realize if it even was one with the edges so raggedly cut.

Bringing it up to your face, you read the large, shaky letters with your newly obtained skill of reading words.

“Will you marry me?”

Young Eric simply had bad comprehension skills. Apparently, he wasn't proposing. He just wanted to become friends.

“How does ‘marry me’ and ‘be my friend’ sound at all similar?” You muttered to yourself.

Eric looked up and groaned. “You’re still on that? I was a baby back then. A cute one at that.”

“An annoying one at that.”

Eric was about to argue back but Juyeon had spoken up with his lovely and calm voice.

“Let’s not fight. We have a trip to look forward to.”

The two of you immediately brightened at his reminder—the Summer Getaway. The three of you called it that because you all sucked at coming up with a better name. It was the trip that you had been planning since the first year of high school. The beach house to rent, the seaside to visit, everything already was laid out. And after so many years of fumbling with life and its many obstacles, it was finally happening.

“Tomorrow!” Eric sat up. “You’re all going to witness my dreamy beach boy actor debut.”

Juyeon looked at him, unimpressed. “And who’s the love interest?”

You snorted, turning your gaze over to Eric, only for him to be looking straight at you. Widening your eyes, you stuttered in confusion.

“No one,” He curtly said, turning away suddenly, his ears slightly red.

It was awkwardly silent. Until Juyeon nervously laughed. “What about clothes? Summer outfits?” He rambled. “We have to take a lot of pictures.”

You nodded, smiling excitedly. “I bought some just for this trip actually.” You frowned. “My paycheck practically disappeared.”

Juyeon laughed. “Was it as expensive as your prom outfit?”

Again, memories rushed back to you. More negative this time. With a frustrated sigh, you grimaced. “Let’s not bring that up. It was so bad, I looked horrible.”

Juyeon shook his head sympathetically. But your ears picked up someone else’s voice.

“I think you looked beautiful,” You heard Eric whisper. But maybe you were imagining things.

“Too bad my date dumped me the day after,” You continued.

“He was horrible for that,” Juyeon remarked.

“That’s why you should’ve taken me,” Eric piped up. He got up to sit next to you on the bed. And to your surprise, his hand gently came up to your hair to smooth it down. But of course, that's what friends did.

You nodded in agreement. “I should have. You looked handsome that day.”

Eric glanced at you briefly and you could catch the sight of his cheeks turning red. “Of course I did,” He stammered.

“Then why didn’t you ask anyone out for prom?” You questioned. “You went all alone.”

“Because you—“ Eric sighed, hurt flitting across his expression. “Nevermind.”

Juyeon coughed anxiously. “So!” He blurted. “The trip! Let’s talk about the trip tomorrow.”

—

“Where’s Juyeon?” Eric called out when he noticed you approaching the car. Yes, you prepared so much for the trip that you even had the car inspected and tested the driver—Eric—to make sure he could properly drive without swerving from talking too much. He did talk a lot.

You shrugged, lugging your bag packed with all the things you needed.

“He’s not here yet?” You frowned.

Eric shook his head with a worried look. “Usually he’s the early one.”

You hummed, standing next to him. And then you looked him over. He had dressed differently, his hair swept up nicely and his skin glowed golden in the sun. You wouldn't admit it but he did give off “dreamy beach boy” as corny as it may have sounded.

After a few minutes, you were about to call Juyeon to make sure he didn’t oversleep until you heard footsteps approaching. Looking up, you breathed out a sigh of relief.

“What took you so long?” You complained.

Juyeon furrowed his eyebrows and that was when you realized that he did not have a single piece of luggage with him.

“I can’t go,” He breathlessly responded.

Eric inhaled sharply. “What?”

“There’s been an emergency,” Juyeon whined. “Involving my cat.”

You pouted knowing very well that Juyeon absolutely adored his cat and would drop anything for the feline, including this trip that you’d all been planning years ago.

“But go without me,” Juyeon rushed to say. “I don’t want to hold you both back.”

The two of you silently stared at him, disappointment and guilt holding grim over your faces.

“Please.” His eyes softened. “Just make sure to send pictures.”

—

The car ride that was initially meant to be a karaoke session, turned into a quiet silence. It wasn’t awkward, no, it was never awkward between you and Eric. But it was solemn.

“He did say he’d be fine,” Eric spoke, flipping the right turn signal.

You sighed. “But you know him. He always likes to hide his disappointment.”

Eric shook his head. “He would be more disappointed if he knew we weren’t having fun.”

You thought for a moment. And then you nodded because it was true. You often observed that Juyeon would smile whenever you or Eric would smile first. He was like an older brother to you.

“Okay. Then I’m choosing the first song.” A devilish smile appeared on your lips as you queued up the music.

“Go ahead,” Eric laughed.

When you pressed play, he gasped. He glanced at you with acknowledgment accompanied by a slight wince. “Is this…”

“Mhm,” You giggled. “The song we sang together when we got drunk for the first time?”

“The headache I had after,” Eric groaned. “Never again.” You smiled at the fond memory.

“And you’re such a clingy drunk.”

“I was not.”

“You literally hugged me and kissed my cheek,” You deadpanned. “You even said—“

Eric had his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into a warm back hug, so tight that you could feel his hips and chest pressed up against your back. He smelled faintly of cherry wine and from the corner of your eye, you could see his adorably flushed cheeks and the dazed look in his eyes. “Please, don’t ever leave,” He cried, snuggling his face into your neck. “You’re so special to me.”

But then again, that’s just what friends say, right?

Your best friend looked at you in confusion. Ah, he must have forgotten.

“What did I say?”

“Nothing,” You muttered. Choosing to change the topic, you turned up the volume. And soon enough, you were dancing and singing along to the song like you were on cloud nine. Eric chuckled to himself as he watched you with soft eyes, a small smile tugging on his lips.

You glared playfully. “Eyes on the road, sir.”

Eric rolled his eyes but obliged. For safety, of course. When the song ended, you sat back in your seat and you looked at him. Sometimes you forgot that Eric wasn’t a little boy who played hide and seek with you anymore. He was a man who had grown up to be… fairly attractive. His jawline was sharp now, he was taller, and he had muscles from his endless workouts that you would constantly walk in on him doing. You could see that from the way he had rolled up his sleeves to reveal his forearms, handling the steering wheel with one hand. Taking a gulp, you quickly looked away. What were you thinking?

“Eyes on me?” He lifted an eyebrow, glancing at you teasingly.

You cleared your throat. “No, I— You just look bad today.”

“Mhm,” He hummed smugly. “Sure.”

And for some reason, your cheeks felt unusually warm.

It was a long road trip so naturally, that meant that the evening would come. It was dark out now and the music was long turned off. At some point, you had fallen asleep, the sound of the car engine lulling you easily.

Whilst you were dreaming of a beach house lit naturally by the bright sun, Eric took a glimpse at you. He smiled to himself affectionately, staying quiet. But it faltered when he noticed you shiver from the cool night air.

Parking to the side for a moment, he reached back to pull out a blanket. Carefully and lovingly, he placed it over you, trying not to wake you up.

But, you always had the tendency to wake up whenever the car was stopped so you felt every single sensation with your eyes still closed. The warmth of his fingertips brushing against your arm, the rhythm of your quickening heartbeat, and… the press of a soft pair of lips on your forehead.

But maybe it was just a dream.

When Eric had started driving, before you dozed off again, you could hear him humming a song. A song that you recognized. A love song.

—

The house was ten times better than what it looked like in the pictures. The exterior of it looked like it came straight out of those real estate magazines. Palm trees decorated the scene and if you had simply turned around, you would be met with the breathtaking sight of the beach with its clear, almost sparkling ocean. Scrambling to explore the inside, you were surprised to see just how big it was. The ceiling was tall and the interior was embellished with various decorations.

“This is what we deserve after practicing good financial habits for all those years,” You marveled, opening all the doors to reveal gorgeous rooms that were bright simply from the sunlight outside. Just like you had dreamed about. Eric hummed, trailing behind you, taking in the house silently, as opposed to your constant awes.

Finally, the two of you ended up in the master bedroom.

Turning to him slowly, you put on your best puppy-like impression. “Can I have this one?”

Eric looked at you thoroughly unimpressed. “Is that the best you could do?”

You even pouted this time. He still stared back, completely unabashed. At a loss, you leaned in close, right up to his face. And for some reason, almost immediately, he was backing away with reddening cheeks.

“O-okay,” He stuttered. “Fine. You can have this one.”

Cheering, you flopped down on the bed, and with a sigh, you looked out the window dreamily. “If only my room was this neat all the time. It’s always messy.”

Eric huffed, lying down next to you. You turned your head to him and smiled softly at his serene expression as he looked up to the ceiling.

“You can always call me if you need someone to clean your room,” He mumbled. “I’m the neatest after all.”

“Ah…” You breathed. “You’re right. Last time when you–”

“Knock, knock.” You could hear Eric’s voice from outside your door. With a slight sniffle, you brought the covers over your face, curling up to yourself. Being hit with a sudden slump that left you unable to do anything except lie in bed defeated wasn’t entirely ideal.

Your room was an absolute mess and when Eric had called you, he immediately could tell from your voice that you were having a hard time. You heard the door opening and him entering the room. He stood there silently for a moment. But suddenly, you could hear various sounds. Trash being picked up, clothes being folded… peeking your head outside of your blankets, you realized that he was cleaning up for you.

With tears welling up in your eyes at his kind actions, you sniffled even louder. Eric instantly looked up at the sound and he was right by your side. He pulled you into a hug, whispering sweet, sweet words in your ear as his hand stroked the back of your head soothingly.

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” He had whispered, pulling away so that he could brush a strand of hair out of your face gently. Even caressing your cheek, he had let you fall asleep against his chest.

But that’s what friends do, right?

Clearing your throat, you sat up abruptly. Eric followed, staring at you with slight perplexion. Suddenly, you turned to him.

“I never got to say thank you,” You blurted out. “For taking care of me that one time. So… thank you.”

And you had feared he would question what you were talking about. But instead, he nodded with a small smile.

“Of course,” He chuckled casually. “I’ll always care for you, dummy.”

You smiled at that and then you lunged forward, pulling him into a hug. With your sheer force, he fell back on the bed. And just like that, it was the two of you, giggling and hugging each other, arms wrapped around warmly, in the midst of a beautiful beach house.

–

After unpacking and getting everything in order, you were so exhausted that you had fallen asleep almost immediately. But waking up in the morning was refreshing, with the bright sunshine pouring straight onto your face, warming you up perfectly. With a satisfied yawn and stretch, you walked out of your room, still dressed in your sleepwear.

But you paused abruptly when you saw Eric standing in the kitchen, apron tied around his waist and his sleeves rolled up again. He looked up and he smiled.

“Let’s cook together today.”

You gave him a pained smile and approached him. Before you could even say anything, he was leaning in to brush the messy strands of hair out of your face from just waking up. You’ve always noticed how gentle his hands were on you. When with Juyeon, he was rough and playful. But with you… he treated you like a piece of glass.

“We still suck though,” You complained.

“All the more reason to practice?” He gave you a quirked-up smile.

Late at night, Eric was sleeping over. But suddenly, he had sprung up, startling you from your dozing off.

“I’m hungry,” He grumbled. “Let’s cook something.”

And that was how you found yourself, half-asleep in the kitchen, figuring out how to make a simple dish from an old cookbook in one of your drawers. The two of you tried so hard, following each and every direction, only for it to taste like burnt pieces of garbage.

And so, Eric, with a sleepy, raspy voice, had to order takeout. You were silent until your eyes landed on the failed attempt once again. It looked like a blob of black, green, and somehow… pink. And soon enough, you were bent over the counter, laughing so hard over the monstrosity. You had expected Eric to join in on your laughing fit but instead, he had put down his phone and only stared at you fondly.

His eyes were sparkling as they met with yours and he had on the softest tug of his lips. Something in his expression made you stop laughing over how embarrassed you had gotten. Why was he looking at you like that? Almost like he…

But that’s just how friends look at each other, is it not?

“You look focused,” Eric remarked, brushing past you to flip the pancakes.

“Huh? Oh– yeah,” You breathed out. “I just… remembered something.”

“What’s up?”

And again, he looked at you like that. Eyes warm and gentle on yours, his smile small yet so, so fond. Your eyes trailed down to where his hand had reached forward, near your waist to steady you from bumping into the sharp corner of the counter. Your cheeks immediately warmed up as you abruptly turned around.

“N-nothing.”

–

After breakfast and getting ready, you headed out to the nearby outdoor market. It was a beautiful, yet bustling sight. People were in every corner, every stall, buying various things like seashell necklaces and cute jellyfish lamps. Your eyes were practically shimmering and you quickly grabbed hold of Eric’s wrist to pull him along.

At the first stall, a woman was selling beautiful leis. You gasped, picking one up and showing your best friend. He grinned and nodded expectantly.

“What’re you waiting for? Put it on,” He joked.

You laughed and shook your head. Instead, you stepped forward, looping the pink and purple flower garland around his neck. You could hear the small intake from his lips as he looked down at you, eyes wide. Maybe, you were a bit too close to him. But, you didn’t think much of it as you continued to adjust it and admire the colors that complimented him perfectly.

Well, up until a child had run past, bumping into you and causing you to fall straight into Eric’s arms.

“Oh, I–” You gulped, feeling a warm hand close around your waist, holding you steady.

“Sorry,” He muttered nervously, his cheeks flushing.

“It’s okay,” You whispered, peering up at him, still pressed against his body. He gazed back and his eyes began to slowly trail down to your… With a cough, you pulled away, refusing to look him in the eye. His hands were always gentle.

Again, you took his wrist to lead him somewhere else. But that was when you felt him pull away. For a second, you thought you might have lost him in the crowd, but he was still right behind you. Instead, his hand closed around yours, his fingers—rough from playing baseball in his free time—intertwining firmly around. You tried to ignore the quickening pace of your heart.

“So you don’t get lost,” He teased.

“You’re the one who gets lost the most,” You retorted, your voice slightly shaky.

At the next stall, there were plushies displayed for sale. Some were badly sewn, like the cat missing a buttoned eye. But some were particularly cute, especially the white bunny keychain, sitting on one of the shelves.

“Hey,” You mumbled, approaching it. Both ears were intact and upright. “This reminds me of…”

Clutching the bunny plushie with the price tag attached to its ear close to your chest, you looked at Eric with a pleading look.

“Please,” You complained. “Let me buy it. I promise I’ll pay you back tomorrow. Hm?”

Eric looked at you with narrowed eyes, switching his gaze from you to the plushie. And then he sighed, taking it from your hand. With hopeful eyes, you watched as he walked to the shelf and put it back. And just like that, all your dreams were crushed.

“C’mon.” He urged you away. “That’s dumb.”

“But you know my favorite animals are bunnies,” You whined. But still, you followed him out of the store.

About a week later, he showed up at your door. It was your birthday after all so when your eyes landed on the small present box in your hands, you smiled with delight. He tilted his head with a shy smile.

“Happy birthday,” He whispered, leaning in to pull you into a hug. “I know this isn’t great, but I tried my best.” He smiled at you sheepishly.

When you opened it, sitting inside was a small plushie. Of a bunny. It was so, so badly made, the stitches mangled and the ears practically falling off. But it was so… Eric.

“Is that why you didn’t let me buy the other one?” You questioned, clutching it close to your chest protectively.

He nodded with a completely serious expression. “I didn’t need unnecessary competition.”

And despite rolling your eyes at his comment, you found yourself carefully placing the plushie right at your bedside so it was the first thing you saw when you woke up.

And to this day, you still have it.

But that’s just what friends do… you think.

Eric had read your mind and quickly, he was grabbing your hand and pulling you away from the stall.

“My sewing skills could be better,” He said with an embarrassed look on his face. You laughed in response. Before you could even say anything else, he was reaching forward to clasp a necklace around your neck. He was so, so close that you could feel his breath across your lips and smell his scent which reminded you a lot like cotton candy.

“When did you get this?” You whispered, looking down at it. It was a small seashell shaped like a heart.

“Few minutes ago.” He smiled. “But you didn’t notice.”

“I love it.” You grinned. And just like that, you hadn’t reached for his wrist this time, but straight for his hand. With fingers intertwined, the two of you walked down the rest of the market, smiling and laughing all throughout the sunset.

–

Another day had passed and the two of you had mostly stayed inside the beach house, due to the cloudy weather ruining the mood. It was fun nonetheless, watching movies and even playing board games. Which, Eric won all three of them for some reason. You simply call it luck.

Now, laying in your bed, you felt yourself grow drowsy over the ambient noise of the rain pattering on the windows and the occasional rumble of thunder. Sometimes, there would be a flash of light outside–lightning, but you were much too tired to really care.

Just as your eyes were about to shut close, you heard a knock on the door.

“Eric?” You whispered, your voice croaky from sleep.

The door creaked open, and there he was, dressed in a comfy t-shirt. You recognized it. The one that he had once let you borrow because you had spilled coffee all over yourself. It was warm and… well, it smelled just like him.

“What happened?” You frowned, sitting up. He stepped closer and if you looked closely, you could see the tinge of red on his cheeks.

“...you know,” He muttered.

You did know.

Your phone rang, startling you out of your sleep. Despite your initial grumpiness, you picked up when you realized it was your best friend.

“Eric?”

A deep breath from the other line. And then–

“Can you come over?”

You looked at the time. It was two in the morning.

“Why?” You furrowed your eyebrows.

“I’m… scared of thunderstorms.” You could even hear his voice tremble. And just like that, you were out the door, umbrella in hand. But the rain was so heavy that it managed to seep into your clothes and hair anyway, leaving you drenched by the time you reached his door.

At the sound of the doorbell, Eric flung the door open. You couldn’t even get a word in because he was pulling you in and he was throwing his arms around you, scrambling to hold you close, his hands grasping onto your shirt tightly. You smiled softly as you hugged him back, even if you were getting his clothes wet too.

“I missed you,” He whispered, tightening his hold. “So much.”

You laughed softly. “I’m right here. You saw me yesterday already, didn’t you?”

“I–” He grumbled, pulling away. His lips were pulled into a tight frown as he searched your eyes with a deeper meaning behind them. “I always miss you.”

That’s not… how friends act, do they?

“Want to sleep here?” You patted the spot next to you, even bringing an extra pillow and adjusting the blankets.

“Gladly,” He grinned. “That’s why I came here in the first place.” In only a matter of seconds, he was climbing into bed with you. The two of you never… slept in the same bed together but it felt so natural with the way your arms wrapped around him and he had snuggled up to your chest.

This is definitely how friends act.

–

The next day was boring. You all had planned it to be the day where each one of you would go off and do whatever separately as a way to individually relax. But, you realized just how much Eric was a part of your life. Wandering the gardens, you found yourself thinking of his stupid puns and his even stupider smile. Truth be told, Eric was always with you. The two of you never went a week without seeing each other. Any much longer than that and Eric was clinging and hugging you for the whole day, saying he needed to “recharge.”

Finally, in the evening, you saw Eric again. He was wearing a comfy, zip-up jacket since the evenings tended to get chilly and his hair was adorably messy. Adorably? Since when did you think that?

“Want to sit with me?” He leaned against the doorway. “My room has a better view.” You nodded brightly and followed him.

You had never noticed just how beautiful the scenery actually was from his room. Your room mostly pointed towards the various palm trees. But his room, with its wide and tall window that overlooked the whole beach, was different. The two of you sat together on the bed, knees drawn up to your chests, as you observed the constant motion of the ocean water moving back and forth, creating bubbles with it. The night sky was dark, yet it sparkled with twinkling stars dotted across it.

When you looked over, you saw Eric, looking out the window too. The moonlight shone perfectly on his face, accentuating each of his handsome features. His kind eyes, the slope of his nose, his plush lips that shaped into a soft smile.

He was always handsome. You always knew that. But something about this moment, right now, left your eyes widening, cheeks flushing, and your heart pounding.

“What do you mean you lost the grocery list?” You whined. “Juyeon wanted this huge Christmas feast. I can’t bear to disappoint him.”

Eric grimaced. “I swear, my dog ate it.”

“You don’t even have a dog.”

The two of you continued to bicker, walking down the numerous aisles of the grocery store, trying to figure out the ingredients to make Juyeon’s favorite food until an elderly couple stopped you in your tracks.

“Aren’t you both an adorable couple?” The woman cooed.

Your jaw dropped and you turned to Eric, only to find that he didn’t share the same shocked expression. He was smiling almost… shyly, the tips of his ears turning red.

“Oh, just look at the way he looks at them,” The man pointed out before turning to his wife. “Just like I had looked at you all those years ago.”

The woman laughed bashfully, batting him away. Then, she turned back to Eric with kind eyes.

“You must love them a lot.” She said with a kind smile.

You were about to jump in and refute, explain everything was all a lie, that you both were just really good friends up until–

“I do,” Eric replied. He looked at you with that same look that he’d been looking at you for ages now. The softening gaze and slight tug of his lips… it was like you were the flame to his wooden match. “I truly do.”

That’s not how friends act.

You swallowed thickly, all words caught in your throat for a moment. That particular moment often flitted past your mind briefly because you thought that he was just playing along. But now that you think about it…

“Did you mean it?” You finally whispered.

He turned to you with a confused smile. “Mean what?”

“That you… love me.” You studied his face for an answer and you had hoped that you wouldn’t find one—that you wouldn’t see the absolutely smitten look on his face that would further complicate your friendship that’s already lasted decades. But you saw it. The smitten look, right there in front of you. It was there and it gave you all the answers that you needed.

He was quiet, watching you with a tender look in his eyes. And then he leaned to the side, bumping his shoulder with yours lightly.

“I meant it,” He replied, smiling to himself shyly. You gazed at him in shock. “But...” He turned to you, his smile faltering slightly. “However you want to interpret that is up to you.”

You bit your lip and tilted your head so that it was resting on his shoulder. It was odd but not that surprising how well it fits in the crook of his neck, almost as if you were always meant to be there. You didn’t say anything right away, instead, choosing to watch the waves roll, over and over. But everything reminded you of the man sitting right beside you. The bright stars in the sky were just like the mischievous twinkle that he would have in his eyes before he would tackle you into a hug and the crystal clear water that flowed in and out on the sand was just like the steady pounding of your heartbeat whenever you caught sight of his pretty smile.

“As friends or romantically?” You spoke, so quietly that Eric had to lean in even closer to hear you, his hair brushing against your forehead.

He hummed ambiguously. “Whatever you want.” But you could hear the slight tremor in his deep voice.

His words only further answered your question. No matter how hard he would try to make it so that it was all up to you, you could sense everything. The soft tone of his voice, his warm hand covering yours, and his calm breathing. You could sense his feelings. Each and every one of them, like his heart was beating directly through yours.

Slowly, the rustle of the palm trees and the natural sound of his slow breaths gently pulled you into a state of drowsiness. Shuffling so that your whole side was pressed up to his, you leaned closer, nuzzling your cheek into his warm shoulder. And gradually, your eyes closed, sleep overcoming you peacefully.

He smiled down at you, gently bringing you to lie down on the bed. He pulled the blankets over you, tucking you in snugly. And then he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, gazing at you with so much warmth.

“Romantically,” He whispered, brushing a piece of hair out of your face. “It’s always been romantically.”

–

You had woken up to a text from Juyeon. And yes, you have been sending pictures to him, mostly consisting of blurry selfies of you posing perfectly and Eric who wasn’t even looking at the camera, constantly distracted.

Stretching, you realized that you weren’t in your bed. You were in Eric’s bed. And just like that, all the memories came rushing back to you. Romantically or as friends? As friends or romantically? Whichever one was it?

Shaking your head, you opened the text.

Juyeon: did you do the last activity on the itinerary yet?

Juyeon: the beach party

And so there you were, dressed in one of your summer outfits, flowy and perfect for the weather. Eric was beside you, staring in awe at the scene. The two of you had never quite made it to the beach, being so preoccupied with other places to explore. But now that you were here, the sand soft under you and the sun setting in the background, you couldn’t help but smile dearly. You had waited excitedly for this moment really, as Juyeon had claimed that this was a surprise made by him and he had hired someone to set it up.

And set up it was. String lights and lanterns were scattered about, lighting up the scene. There were chairs set up, made to sit together and watch the calm ocean. And on the right, there was a speaker to play music.

“Well isn’t this pretty?” You mumbled, your mouth agape.

Eric smiled, turning to look right at you. “Very pretty.”

Wordlessly, he took your hand in his, leading you toward the lanterns. It wasn’t really a party anymore. You couldn’t help but think that this was actually a beach… a beach date.

You sat down in one of the chairs and you watched as Eric picked up his phone to put on music. Immediately, you recognized the song.

“You Better Know?” You laughed, remembering all the times you and Eric had belted out Red Velvet songs after failing an exam to cope with the feeling of failure. It never really worked but it was fun either way.

He shrugged with a charming smile. He began to dance slightly as he walked away to pick up seashells that were scattered across the beach. You watched silently, leaning forward as you let your eyes wander over your best friend.

Eric truly no longer was the messy boy who scribbled outside the lines on coloring books or the boy who repeatedly tripped on the playground causing his knees to get scraped. He no longer was the boy who experienced constant voice cracks or who struggled in exams because he had overslept with dark circles under his eyes.

Instead, he was a man with a deeper voice, broader shoulders, and a charming middle part in his hair as opposed to the disorderly, overgrown middle school hairstyle he always had. He was a man who had ditched the dark hoodies in his angsty teenager phase, instead opting for white, flowy button-up shirts that complimented his golden skin perfectly. He even reminded you of Prince Eric–ironically, enough–from The Little Mermaid.

Eric no longer was the boy that you simply were best friends with. He was a man who you have fallen in love with. And you had no idea for how long.

Standing up silently, you approached him. He looked up at you, giving you a soft smile, a beautiful white seashell in his hand.

“Here,” He said, taking your hand in his. He placed the shell in yours, gazing at you with so much affection that you felt a shudder all throughout your spine. “For you.”

You smiled, looking down at it. It was round, embellished with small ridges. It was perfect. The faint sound of the upbeat, song playing in the background as you looked up at him with sparkles in your eyes.

“Eric,” You started. “I have to tell you something.”

And for some reason, he had leaned forward, pressing a finger to your lips to shush you. You let out a muffled sound, gaping at him in bewilderment.

“Eric?”

“Let me speak first,” He whispered.

You inhaled sharply…

“Romantically.”

…held your breath…

“My answer is romantically.”

… and exhaled shakily, processing his confession, one word at a time. But before you could, Eric was saying more.

“For the longest time, I’ve had the biggest crush on you. Ever since I saw you back in elementary school. And mayhaps, I did mean that stupid ‘will you marry me?’ statement,” He chuckled. He reached forward taking your other hand in his, wrapping his fingers around. “Over time I… I tried to get over you. But, since you’re my best friend I couldn’t distance myself. So I accidentally fell in love.”

You felt your heart pound at his words, all of your memories rushing back in full force. It all had started to make sense. The acts of service when you weren’t feeling well, the soft looks when you were only laughing, the homemade gifts even though he claimed that he hated making things, and the… words. The specific word love.

“Eric, I…”

“Ah, wait,” He laughed. “This song.”

Red Flavor by Red Velvet. The classic, happy summer song.

And suddenly, he reached forward, pulling you in by the waist. “Can I sing for you?”

You snorted, your cheeks flushing once you registered the warmth of his large hand on the small of your back. “This song?”

“Mhm,” He hummed, grinning. “This song.”

And before you could retort, he actually started singing, Swaying you from left to right, his arms continuously wrapped around you, his deep voice resonated through the cozy summer night, igniting each and every star one by one. He sang the pre-chorus, gazing at you with affection and well, love.

"I like you, it was love at first sight. I keep thinking of you." His lips pulled up into a soft smile as he sang, his voice husky and a great contrast to the higher-pitched voices of the actual song. You were enamored, your heart beating right against his chest as you watched him silently, watching as he sang so, so, gently. Only for you and for you only. “I want to go my own way.”

And then the chorus started with its fun beat and cheerful singing. You giggled, placing your hands on his chest, leaning forward to hide in his neck.

“This song does not fit the moment right now,” You remarked, smiling against his skin. You could feel the vibration of his deep laugh as he held you closer, his hands stroking your sides gently.

“But at least it got the confession down. So, what’s your answer?”

You laughed, pulling away to look up at him lovingly. He smiled down at you, his eyes wandering over each of your features fondly.

“The very last line,” You replied. He had grown silent at that, listening to each of the lyrics, waiting for the end. And then–

What I like the most is you in the summer.

Eric widened his eyes and he looked down at you hopefully. “Really?”

You nodded, your cheeks flushing. “Not just like. Love.”

“Oh, wow,” He breathed out. And again, just like he had done all those other times, he brushed a piece of hair out of your face, his fingers brushing against your skin with sparks accompanying it. “God, I’m so in love,” He muttered. And just like that, the next song had started—Hear The Sea—playing softly in the background.

You laughed, “Did you just put on a whole Red Velvet playlist?”

“And what about it?” He grinned. “It’s summer.” And slowly, he pulled away, not before looping your hand in his. His hand rested on your waist, holding you close. To the calm singing and beautiful instrumental of the song, the two of you danced. Sometimes, either one of you would trip on the sand, causing an endeared laugh here and there. But mostly, the silence between you was filled with soft smiles and flushed cheeks.

Even though Eric no longer was the boy who ran around when it was summertime, he always would be the boy with the most beautiful smile.

His eyes were bright on yours, watching you closely as the two of you swayed slowly to the music.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do this for?” He whispered.

You shook your head, feeling hot all over.

“So long,” He continued. “I’ve always longed to dance with you.”

You smiled. “And what else?”

“Hold you.”

You hummed. “You always loved doing that.”

But then his eyes darkened on you for a moment. “And… kiss you. Though I haven’t done that one yet.”

Your breath hitched, your dancing coming to a halt. “Then do it.”

He gazed at you softly. “Are you sure? There’s no rush.”

“Think for yourself.” You giggled. “How long exactly have you waited to kiss me?”

He paused, and both of his hands came down to grasp your waist this time. “Years. I’ve waited for years.” He looked at you shyly, his eyes adorably hopeful and loving.

“Then act.”

And so he did.

Almost aggravatingly slow–as if to make sure he really had your consent–he tilted his head and he softly placed his lips on yours. Shutting your eyes closed, you allowed yourself to get lost in the addictive feeling, the soft pull of your lips and the gentle grasping of your waist as he pulled you so close that your bodies were flush against each other.

It was like everything was drowned out. In your ears, you could no longer hear the crash of the waves on the shore. Instead, you could only make out the quiet, satisfied hum that escaped Eric’s parted lips. You couldn’t feel the summer breeze blowing against your skin, you could only feel the warmth of the palm of his hand as it came to cup your jaw, tipping your head slightly so he could kiss further.

It was a soft kiss, filled with sparks that would set off fireworks in the very pit of your stomach. Slow movements without fervor, as it was just Eric, kissing you like he must have been dreaming of doing all these years. The hand on your waist fit perfectly around you and so you couldn’t help but melt into his touch, stepping closer. Eric huffed out a quiet laugh as he blindly guided your hand to where his heart was where you could only feel it beat and beat and beat.

And with a tap against his chest, the two of you broke apart, lips red and slightly swollen. You stared at him in silence before bursting out into shy laughter, lunging forward to hide your face in his shoulder. Eric sighed softly, wrapping his arms around you once again, but this time with a different feeling. Love, maybe.

“Who knew that this trip would force me to confess?” He wondered to himself.

“Good.” You scowled. “You took too long.”

“Oh?” He smirked. “But look who finally figured out their feelings on this very trip?”

Your cheeks flushed and you playfully shoved him. “Stop it.”

“Say it.”

You frowned in confusion. “Say what?”

“You know what I mean,” He teased. “I want to hear you.”

You gulped and looked down at the sand. “That I… love you?”

“Mhm,” He hummed. “I love you too.”

And then he pulled something out of his pocket. When he unfolded it, he placed it in your hand which was still clutching onto the seashell. You looked down, only to realize that it was another red, paper heart. Written in neater, more legible handwriting this time, were the words,

“Will you date me?”

“Ah,” You breathed out. “So you finally get the words right.”

He rolled his eyes. “Is that a yes or no, my beautiful?”

“My,” You laughed. “If you use my, then that means I’m already yours.”

“You’ve always been mine.” His eyes sparkled.

“Then my answer is yes,” You whispered before smiling and leaning up to peck his lips once again. He was about to pull you into a full-fledged kiss but you giggled before running away, kicking behind flurries of sand. Eric groaned and he began to chase you down the shoreline.

“You can’t do that after you’ve just kissed me!” He complained.

“Too bad.” You stuck your tongue out. His frown turned into a fond smile as he laughed and ran after you.

You didn’t know exactly when, but the two of you somehow ended up in the water–clothes that weren’t meant for swimming, thoroughly soaked.

He looked at you with a loving smile as he waded over to you, his hair slightly damp from your splashing. Huffing out a fond laugh, he quickly trapped you into his embrace. And then he turned you, his back to the rest of the ocean so that you wouldn’t be hit by the waves. Smiling at you, he pulled you back in, his lips, wet from the water, pressing onto yours.

“You taste like the ocean.” You grinned after pulling away.

“And you taste delicious.”

“Oh my.” You gasped. “Why are you flirty now? I only know the clumsy, foolish Eric.”

“There’s much more to learn about me,” He whispered, grinning widely as he reached a hand out of the water to brush away a strand that had stuck to your forehead. “Just you wait. I’d even write a whole novel for you. And you know I failed literature class.”

You laughed, clearly remembering the defeated look on his face when he had checked his exam grade.

“I learned something already,” You quietly said. A particularly harsh wave almost shoved you both off your feet, but Eric was quick to steady you with his hands. Always so gentle and firm.

“And what’s that?”

“That you’re an excellent kisser.”

He laughed adorably before pressing a kiss to your lips again.

“And I knew something already,” He uttered. "For a while now."

“Hm?” A smile grew on your face.

“That I’m so–” A peck on your cheek. “So…” Another on the tip of your nose. “So in love with you.” And finally, a kiss on your lips.

The truth is, that neither of you cared if the ocean was trying its best to knock you both over. Your blooming love and soft, adoring smiles in between kisses were steady enough to hold you up.

Because that’s just how friends act. Or more specifically, how two best friends who fell in love with each other act.

–

You sent one thing to Juyeon on the last day of your trip. Attached, was a selfie of the two of you, kissing softly, the ocean and the moon in the background.

Juyeon immediately opened it. And then the bubbles of his texting appeared and disappeared, for over three minutes. When his message appeared, you laughed loudly at the one word that appeared on the screen.

Juyeon: finally

#deoboyznet #dbn: summer on you #fics 💞#the boyz imagines #the boyz reactions #the boyz fluff #tbz fluff #tbz imagines #the boyz x reader #the boyz scenarios #tbz x reader #eric sohn x reader #eric sohn fluff

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