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finelinefae · 5 months

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the game [tennisplayer!harry x tennisplayer!y/n]

synopsis: y/n's desperate to play tennis and who better to coach her than her rival

word count: 6.7k

contains: enemies to lovers, set at a boarding school, jealous h, slow burn, angst, tennis rivals

a/n: this is the very first part of a new series that i am soooooo beyond excited to be writing !! it will most likely have 4/5 parts <333 enjoy !!!

. . .

Crestwood Academy was a prestigious boarding school with a mission to cultivate excellence in its students, many of whom went on to achieve great success in their respective fields. Nestled amidst rolling hills and lush greenery, it welcomed only the most accomplished families into its esteemed halls.

Y/N had attended Crestwood Academy since she was five, thanks to her father, who owned a country club and could afford the tuition. Her parents, strict and focused on success, were determined to give her the best education possible so that she could be the very best. Her face was always buried in a book or spending her days in the library, right up until the very last minute of its opening hours.

It was her final year at Crestwood Academy before graduation. Y/N had been set on passing all of her exams at the top of her class so had been working extra hard. She studied English, maths, all three sciences, Latin, French and History as well as tennis.

Y/N's parents had always urged her to pursue a career in the top industries. Despite her efforts to feign interest in that direction, her heart had always belonged to tennis ever since she first took up the sport at Crestwood.

She had competed plenty, winning all the academy trophies and medals. Her parents would visit whenever she competed in finals and congratulated her on winning but saw it as nothing but a hobby to participate in when she wasn’t studying.

However, Y/N couldn’t deny herself the rush of playing knowing she’d have to part with the sport once she graduated. The career path of becoming a doctor was already laid out for her by her parents but she felt destined to follow a different path.

Despite the fact she had applied to dozens of schools to study medicine, she still had one more option that had nothing to do with science at all.

Every year, the academies hosted their own version of a grand slam in which the winning player received a scholarship and three years' worth of training from one of the top tennis academies in the world. Y/N longed to be at the top with the greats and she knew that this competition was the only way she could get there.

For the most part, Y/N had been self-taught. She watched videos online and took notes from the Wimbledon matches she’d see on the television. Crestwood only had one sports coach who focused most of their time on the football team so if she was going to win the scholarship, she needed the very best.

She sat on the bleachers, her book open in front of her, but her attention was drawn to the man on the court. The player’s movements were fluid and powerful, each action deliberate and precise. Yet, it was another man who held her gaze—a figure with an impassive expression, focused solely on his player.

When the match was over, Y/N slammed her book shut and walked towards the court after the players shook hands. Her eyes looked down at the limp in his step as he walked towards the cooler to grab a water bottle.

It had been a while since she had last seen him. She remembered the proud look on his parent’s faces when he was pulled out of Crestwood eighteen months ago and went on to win a grand slam in Australia. She could still feel the intense jealousy that filled her as she watched the match on television whilst studying for her chemistry test that he was also supposed to sit had he stayed.

Now he was here, back to his roots and maybe it had been fate because what she was about to ask him would determine her own path in the tennis career she longed for.

His hair was slightly longer now, his brunette, touseled curls were swept to the side in a loose, dishevelled manner. He wore sunglasses to cover his eyes from the sunlight and a navy tracksuit paired with white vans.

Seeing him brought back the once competitive emotions she had whenever she’d see him strut about the courts every lunchtime but she’d have to suppress those emotions, especially for what she was about to ask him.

“Excuse me, Harry?” Y/N called out.

He took a water bottle from the cooler and flicked off the cap before holding it to his lips and gulping it down. Y/N waited, crossing her arms as she did. “I’ve been waiting for you to show up.” Was the first thing he said.

Y/N didn’t know what to say. It was unexpected to know that he had been waiting to see her, “I didn’t know you were part of the furniture on these courts,” He smirks and Y/N’s jaw ticks. “And you still sit in the exact same spot on those bleachers, to what? Admire me?”

Y/N bristled at Harry's cocky remark, her irritation bubbling to the surface. "Hardly," she retorted, her tone sharp. "I have better things to do than waste my time watching you play."

Harry chuckled, his smirk widening as he leaned against the cooler. "Is that so? Then what brings you here?" he asked, his tone laced with curiosity. “Come to get an autograph?”

Y/N squared her shoulders, determined not to let his arrogance get under her skin. "I was actually hoping to talk to you about something," she replied, her voice steady despite the nerves fluttering in her stomach.

Harry raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "Oh? And what might that be?" he inquired, his gaze piercing as he studied her intently.

Taking a deep breath, Y/N gathered her courage and suppressed her pride, "I want you to coach me," she blurted out, her words hanging in the air between them.

Harry made no effort to hide the surprise on his face but it quickly melted into a cocky smirk, “You want me to coach you? I thought you hated me?”

“I do,” She replies quickly. She’d hated him ever since he had humiliated her in a battle of the sexes tennis tournament when they were young despite the fact she had little chance of winning against him anyway. “But I don’t have to like you to recognise your talent and right now you're the best and only coach I can get if I’m going to win that scholarship,”

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed slightly, “Your parents still want you to study medicine?” Something flickered in his eyes that Y/N couldn’t put her finger on.

Y/N wasn’t going to give him an answer even though it was obvious, “This is the only chance I get to escape it,” She mutters, “I wouldn’t ask unless I was desperate.”

He glanced around before taking a step forward. She was tempted to step back at the same time but she didn’t want to seem intimidated by him so stood her ground. From this proximity, she noticed how much taller he was compared to her - almost an entire foot.

“What’s in it for me?” He asked.

Y/N knew he’d ask which was why she spent so much time figuring out what she could tell him to make it worthwhile. “I know about your injury,” She says and he stills.

“Everyone knows about my injury.” He grumbles.

It had been a spectacle in the world of tennis. The new grand slam winner loses out on his second after a fatal injury at the French Open. Y/N remembered seeing him rolling on the ground, holding onto his leg as paramedics ran onto the court to aid him.

“People think you’re a one-hit wonder since you’re out for the season,” His jaw clenched as she spoke, “But if you coach me and get me to win, I guarantee you’ll be out on the court again - back where you belong,”

“You think an academy league game can get my back onto the court?”

“No, but it's a start and maybe I’ll be competing alongside you the next time you’re playing.”

There was a moment of silence as Harry absorbed her words, his gaze searching hers for any hint of insincerity. Finding none, he let out a heavy sigh, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "Fine," he relented, his voice tinged with resignation. "You want me to coach you? Prove you’re worth coaching.”

He walked over to the barrel of tennis rackets and picked one up. Y/N narrowed her eyes, remembering the last time they had played against each other and how embarrassed she was afterwards.

“But you’re-”

“One game won’t hurt,” He said before she could finish.

She followed, her steps purposeful as she reached for a racket, flipping it over in her hands as she strode to the other end of the court. Despite being clad in her school uniform—a pleated skirt, white shirt with the school crest, and loafers that threatened to slide off her feet—she was determined to prove herself. She'd show him she was worth his time, that she was a far better tennis player than he gave her credit for.

As they took their positions on opposite ends of the court, the tension between them crackled in the air. Y/N gripped her racket tightly, her focus sharp as she prepared to face off against Harry once again.

The first serve sliced through the air, the sound echoing as the ball hurtled towards Y/N. She moved with fluidly, her muscles tensing as she returned the serve.

Harry's response was swift, his movements confident as he returned the ball with a well-placed shot that left Y/N scrambling to keep up. Even with his injury, he still held the precision of a professional. But she refused to back down, her determination driving her to match him shot for shot, rally after rally.

The game intensified as they traded blows, each point reflecting their skills and determination. Y/N's heart pounded in her chest as she fought to keep pace with Harry, her mind focused solely on the ball. Both Y/N and Harry vocally exerted their energy through grunts and cries as they hit the ball with all their energy.

Despite her efforts, Harry seemed to anticipate her every move. But Y/N refused to be outdone, drawing on every ounce of strength and skill as she fought to gain the upper hand.

As the game progressed, Harry's skill and experience began to overthrow her. His shots were close to perfect and strategic, leaving Y/N struggling to keep up. Despite her determination, she found herself falling behind as Harry continued to dominate the match.

In the end, it was Harry who emerged victorious, his final shot landing just beyond Y/N's reach with a satisfying thud. As the ball bounced out of the court, Y/N knew that she had been outplayed.

She rested her hands on her knees, hunched over as she tried to regain her breath. She couldn’t help but feel disappointed that she’d lost despite the fact she was at a disadvantage anyway.

Harry’s shadow fell over her but she refused to look up just yet. He spoke anyway, “You’ve gotten better since the last time I saw you,” He spoke, holding a cold water bottle in front of her face.

She took it, the plastic crackling under her fingers, “You can just say you’re not going to do it,” She mumbled, unscrewing the cap and taking a swig of water.

“I’ll coach you,” He says, “Meet me here at 6 pm tomorrow.”

Y/N finally looked up, her mouth parted, only to find his back facing her as he walked away from the courts.

. . .

Harry had no idea what he had agreed to in coaching Y/N at tennis.

He sat in his luxurious apartment ten minutes away from Crestwood Academy, surrounded by furniture wrapped in plastic or still in cardboard boxes.

He sat on the couch with his feet resting on the coffee table in front of him and a glass of whiskey in his hand. The TV was playing quietly in front of him but his mind was on the girl he had spent the majority of his life competing with.

She had grown since the last time he had seen her before he graduated and left the country to compete in the Australian Open. Her long, tanned legs were on show beneath the grey school skirt she had been wearing. He couldn’t seem to get the image of the visible muscles in her calves out of his mind as she moved across the court to hit the ball during their impromptu tennis match.

Despite their personal differences, Harry couldn't resist her. There was an undeniable thrill in riling her up, in watching her reactions to the smallest digs. They had once been friends, back when Y/N would trail after him on the playground, eager to understand how to hit a ball with a tennis racket. But as she began competing in school competitions, she quickly learned that beating him was an impossible feat.

He wasn’t surprised to see her watching him on the court today, in fact, it amused him. Whether she liked it or not, he would always look out in the bleachers for her whenever he’d play during his time at the academy. Her reactions were what kept him going, some might even say made him better.

But, he couldn’t deny the fact that he was surprised to see her so brazenly asking him to coach her. He could tell by her reaction that it was killing her inside, to be coached by him when all she’d done was pick apart his technique, but it was clear she was desperate and Harry knew it was because of her parents.

Harry had had his fair dose of strict parentage. When he was told he could no longer play tennis for the season, his parents shipped him straight back to Crestwood to finish his final year since he never actually graduated.

He loathed them for it, barely saying a word to them as they paid the rent in cash for his apartment and left him with boxes to unpack on his own. He knew they were disappointed in him despite the fact the injury was no fault of his own, they could barely look at him as they left, closing the door behind them.

It was embarrassing. How could he have gone from being at the top of his game to the very bottom? Now he was back in the place he had turned his back on, feeling like he was back to square one all over again.

Harry’s thoughts were broken by the sound of his phone ringing. The name of his best friend since he was born lit up the screen.

“What?” Harry answered the call, his train of thought forming a particular level of intolerance in him.

“Hey, is that any way to talk to your best friend?” Mitch replied along with the sound of loud chattering in the background because he always had to be somewhere with someone.

“Sorry,” Harry huffed, “Long day.”

“Already? You’ve not even started classes yet,” Mitch chuckled.

“Don’t remind me,” Harry hadn’t even begun thinking about being back in classrooms and having to put up with kids his age berating him with questions he didn’t want to answer. Tomorrow would be his first day back and he was dreading it.

“C’mon now, don’t be too glum about it, haven’t you missed me?”

“No,” Harry lied.

“I know you well enough now to know when you’re lying.” Mitch laughed down the phone.

A hint of a smile grazed Harry’s lips, "Whatever," he replied, his tone gruff but lacking conviction. Despite his attempt to feign disinterest, a part of him couldn't deny the truth in Mitch's words. There had been many moments he had experienced after leaving school when he missed the company of people his own age. Everyone around him was older than he was and spoke to him as though he was some prized trophy that needed to be handled with caution. He’d spend evenings by the pool by himself, watching the sunset and wishing his friends were there to celebrate his win with him.

"I'll take that as a yes," Mitch teased, “I know the boys will be happy to have y’ back and I can introduce you to Sarah. I think Molly Brown still has a thing for you as well by the way, talks about you all the fuckin’ time.” Harry listened to his friend ramble about all the things he had missed in the last year or so but his mind seemed to travel elsewhere.

His eyes wandered around the room, his ear still pressed to his phone, until they landed on an open box with a picture frame resting on top. He recognized the photo immediately, even without picking it up, because he had kept it hidden in his old dorm desk. In the picture, a group of eight students—four boys and four girls—smiled at the camera, with Harry standing at the back and Y/N right beside him.

. . .

Y/N slammed the door of her locker shut after pulling out her workbooks for her next class. Students bustled down the hallways of Crestwood Academy, wearing their navy blazers and uniform for another week of school.

“Have you seen him yet?” Sarah, Y/N’s best friend, came out of nowhere and stood in front of her.

“Seen who?” Y/N remained indifferent even though she knew who Sarah was referring to.

Everyone had been talking about Harry since she had walked into school from her dorm room this morning. It was the main topic of conversation, everyone’s eyes darting around the hallways to try and find him.

“You know,” Sarah nudged her, “The boy you’ve spent most of your life in a one-sided rivalry with?”

“One-sided? It’s a mutual hatred,” Y/N argued.

Sarah gave her a look before continuing, “I texted Mitch twenty minutes ago but he hasn’t replied. I know I’ve met Harry before but this is the first time I’ll be meeting him as Mitch’s girlfriend and I don’t want it to change anything.”

Y/N’s eyes softened, “Sarah, just because he’s the winner of a grand slam doesn’t make his opinion of you any more important. Whether Harry likes you or not, everyone knows you and Mitch are perfect for each other.”

Y/N remembered the first time her friend had told her she was seeing Mitch. He had taken her out to dinner a few times and Sarah had come back to their shared dorm swooning and unable to stop herself from rambling the rest of the night about how romantic and funny he was.

Y/N had never experienced anything like that in her life, too busy focusing on tennis and academia to find herself in relationships, but she was happy her best friend was happy and that was all that mattered to her.

“I know but he’s important to Mitch. They’ve been best friends since infants and… that’s not all I’m worried about,” Sarah looked at Y/N pointedly.

“What?”

“Now that Mitch and I are together, that means we’ll be spending more time around each other which also means…” Sarah didn’t have to finish her sentence for Y/N to understand what she was trying to get at.

“Oh n-no! No way! Sarah, are you being serious right now?” Y/N whined, “You want me to get along with Harry just because you’re dating his best friend?”

“You don’t have to but it would be nice if you did,” Her voice trailed off at the end, her eyes looking at her pleadingly, “I’m not asking you to be best friends, I’m just asking you not to chew his head off when we’re all in the same room together.”

Y/N wanted to argue and tell her she wouldn’t be able to chew his head off anyway because she needed him to coach her for the scholarship but an arm slid around Sarah’s waist and interrupted their conversation.

Sarah grinned, turning to look up at her boyfriend who was now standing beside her, “Hey babe,” Mitch smiled.

“You’re here,” Sarah craned her neck to kiss his lips, “I texted you forever ago and you never replied.

Mitch scoffed, “It was twenty minutes ago and I didn’t have time to check my phone, too busy dragging this one through the front gates.”

Out of the corner of Y/N's eye, another figure appeared. She didn’t have to look to see who it was, the sudden surge of annoyance within her already gave them away. Her head tilted to the left to look up and see Harry.

He was wearing his school uniform, the same way he always did before he left for Australia. His shirt was untucked, and the top button was undone revealing a gold chain and a white vest underneath, his grey trousers were ironed with not a crinkle in sight and his navy blazer hung casually behind him, hooked by his middle finger.

Y/N’s eyes shifted behind him to find people whispering to each other and groups of girls giggling as they walked past. It was nothing new to see girls getting riled up over him but it had become more intensified now that he had gone abroad and made a name for himself. Despite his injury preventing him from playing, Y/N was certain that even if Harry had lost every game and embarrassed himself on live television, people would still adore him.

“Hey Harry,” Sarah offered a kind smile.

“Hi Sarah, nice to see you again. Glad to know Mitch was in good hands whilst I was away,” Harry clapped his friend on the shoulder before turning to Y/N.

“Only the very best,” Mitch pulled Sarah into his side before motioning to Y/N, “You remember Sarah’s best friend Y/N right?”

“Hmmm, aren’t you the one who lost the Junior tennis competition to me a few years ago?” Harry smirked.

Y/N's jaw clenched, but she managed to force a smile. "I could be, but aren’t you the one who they recorded rolling around on the floor like a big baby at the French Open last year?" Her retort was sharp, aimed directly at Harry.

Harry's eyes narrowed in response, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features. Y/N felt a sense of satisfaction at having gotten such a reaction from him. "Welcome back to Crestwood," she added, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

Mitch and Sarah exchanged weary glances, sensing the tension between Y/N and Harry.

"Quite a welcome. I’ve already been asked to coach someone and I’ve only been back a week," Harry remarked, his gaze still fixed on Y/N, who met his stare with a glare of her own.

"You have?" Mitch frowned, his confusion evident.

"Who?" Sarah asked, equally perplexed.

Harry's eyes remained locked on Y/N, giving them their answer. "You asked him to coach you?" Sarah questioned her confusion mirroring Mitch's.

Y/N shifted uncomfortably under their scrutiny, "Yeah, I did," she admitted reluctantly, her gaze flickering briefly to Harry before returning to Mitch and Sarah.

"Why would you ask him to coach you?" Sarah asked, her brow furrowing in confusion, “You argue all the time,”

Y/N hesitated, “I need to win the scholarship to the tennis academy in London and Harry’s the only person here who knows how to play the game.”

“Glad to know I was the pick of the bunch,” Harry’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

“I thought you were applying to go to UCL?” Sarah frowned.

“I was but you know how much the game means to me and my parents refuse to believe it’s more than just a hobby. This is the only chance I’ll get to prove them wrong and the only option to get me out of studying medicine.” Y/N explained.

Sarah’s eyes softened, she too was no stranger to how strict Y/N’s parents could be. “Which is why she needs me,” Y/N felt the weight of his arm rest across her shoulders, “Right, love?”

Y/N spun around to face Harry, eyes sharp, “Don’t call me that,” She hissed, seeing the satisfied grin on his face.

He shrugged, “But I always call you that,”

Ever since they were teenagers, when the rivalry first began, Harry had opted to calling Y/N ‘love’ knowing how much it riled her up. To some, it was a term of endearment but in the world of tennis the word ‘love’ meant one thing.

‘Nil, ‘Zero’, ‘Loser’.

Y/N hated the way he spoke it too - accentuating each letter of the word to drag it out for as long as he could just to annoy her further.

She stepped forward, “Call me that one more time,” She threatened.

“Or what?” He tilted his head to the side.

“Guys seriously, break it up,” Sarah intervened, “Aren’t you supposed to be getting along if you’re going to be spending more time together.”

Y/N hated the thought of it but knew she was right. If she wanted Harry to coach her, she couldn’t go around screwing things up by arguing with him. If he was going to coach her at the sport, she’d have to coach herself in controlling her attitude around him.

“C’mon Sarah, let’s go to class,” Y/N hooked arms with her best friend, wanting to get as far away from him as possible.

“Oh okay, bye Mitch.” Sarah kissed her boyfriend before she was dragged down the hallway in a hurry.

Harry watched as Y/N practically sprinted down the hallway with Sarah in tow. He felt the need to call out of her for one last dig just so she would turn around and he’d see her face before she rounded the corner, “See you on the courts, love.” He called down to her.

As he had hoped, Y/N’s head whipped around to glare at him along with her middle finger, “Asshole!” She called back.

Harry chuckled to himself, “That face,” he murmured.

Mitch placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder, “You’ve got it in for yourself with that one, lad.” Mitch said.

“Tell me about it,” Harry replied, his eyes still on the place he’d last seen Y/N.

Maybe returning to Crestwood wouldn’t be so bad after all.

. . .

With Harry back, Y/N had suspected the day would be a drag with everyone constantly bringing him up in every conversation, but the first half of the day had gone well. Y/N was easily used to her classes by now and was still top of the class in all of them.

During lunch period, Y/N always sat with Sarah in the library where they’d catch up on what they missed out on each other’s lives or study during exam season. It was nice to have some reprieve during the school hours and whenever she was with Sarah, Y/N could talk for hours and hours.

Now that Sarah was dating Mitch, Y/N and Sarah would spend their lunch with his friends in the lunch hall. Y/N didn’t mind it so much having grown used to being around Mitch’s friends despite their loud and boisterous personalities.

However, today she was dreading the fact that now her lunchtimes would also include being around the person she wanted to spend as little amount of time with as possible.

“Can’t we just eat in the library today? Please?” Y/N pulled on the sleeve of her best friend's blazer as she begged her to turn back in the direction of the library. She could already picture Harry’s annoying smirk the closer they got to the entrance of the lunch hall.

“Y/N you’re being dramatic. It’s just an hour, I’m sure you can survive being around him that long.” Sarah continued to tug her down the hallway.

“Sarah I already have to spend enough time as it is,” Now that she asked him to be her coach. The more the day went by the more she was starting to regret her decision.

Sarah spun on her heel, “Think of this as practice then,” Her eyes looked past Y/N’s shoulder, “Look, there they are,” She moved past her and beelined towards their table where Y/N saw Mitch, Jake and Adam already sitting along with that head of brunette curls that Y/N just wanted to tear out every time she saw him.

Sighing, she followed Sarah and approached the table responding to everyone’s friendly greetings until she got to Harry, “You’re in my seat,” She spoke after realising all the seats were taken.

Harry didn’t bother to look around, that stupid grin plastered to his face when he looked up at her, “Am I?”

Y/N gritted her teeth, “Yes,”

“Hmm,” He swivelled around to look at the back of the chair, “I don’t see your name anywhere.”

A wave of chuckles rippled around the table but Y/N had yet to find the amusement in it. “She does always sit there, H.” Mitch chuckles, “Just grab another chair from a different table.”

Harry leant back against the seat and crossed one leg over his thigh, “But I quite like this seat.”

“I’m not moving until you get out of my seat,” Y/N crossed her arms, refusing to give in to him.

“Well you’re going to be stood up for a long time and y’ need those legs for later,” Harry smirked, “Or you could just sit here,” He unfolded his legs and motioned towards his lap, “Still your seat.”

Y/N’s jaw clenched but before she could respond, Adam chuckled and stood up, “Here,” He picked another chair up from an empty table and set it down next to him, “Y’ can sit here Y/N.”

She was tempted to refuse and continue to nag Harry for the rest of lunch but decided against it, not wanting to waste her energy on him. Her eyes softened at Adam’s kindness, “Thanks, Adam.” She sat beside him.

Harry’s smirk seemed to falter when Y/N sat down, watching as Adam looked at Y/N even as she turned to face the others.

“Is that Molly Brown looking at y’ again Harry?” Jake, who Y/N considered the loudest one of Mitch’s friends, leant over the table to speak lowly to Harry even though it was impossible for him to ever be so quiet.

Harry forced himself to look away from Adam before he burnt holes into him. “She’s been after him since fifth year,” Mitch chuckled.

“Y’ think you’ll let her have it this year, H?” Jake takes a spoonful of his lunch and swallows it down.

“Have what?” Sarah frowned, confused.

“Nothing you need to know about, babe,” Mitch replies, opening her waterbottle for her after she silently handed it to him.

“I’ve never been interested in Molly,” Harry quickly replies but his ears prick when he hears Y/N laughing quietly with Adam.

“Mind if I take my chances then?” Jake asks, “I’ve always wanted to date a cheerleader,”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Harry shakes him off, “What about you Adam?” He gets the attention from both Y/N and Adam as they look up, “Don’t you have a thing for Molly?”

Adam furrows his brows, “Molly Brown? Maybe in like third year,” He chuckles, “I’m not interested in anyone at the moment.”

Harry wants to laugh in his face, “Y’ sure about that?”

Adam frowns but Y/N quickly interrupts them, “People are allowed to have other interests you know.”

Harry feels that rush of excitement when she speaks run through his body, “Is this a touchy subject for you?”

Y/N scowls, “No, I’m just saying Adam doesn’t need to be interested in girl’s all the time.”

“Well maybe Adam can speak for himself,” Harry quips.

“Lord save me,” Jake mumbles and Sarah laughs.

“Well what about you? Have you managed to sink your fangs into anyone?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Y/N gapes, “I’ve dated plenty of people,”

The image unsettles Harry but he takes the opportunity to tease Y/N further. "Plenty of people, huh?" he echoes.

Y/N's cheeks flush slightly, "I mean... well, not plenty, but a few," she stammers.

But Harry doesn't let up, "Oh, really?" he presses, "Care to share? I'm sure we'd all love to hear about the few men who you’ve tempted."

Y/N shoots him a glare, knowing full well that Harry was onto her. "I... uh, well," she stumbles over her words, searching for a way to change the subject.

But before she can respond, Adam jumps in. "Come on, Harry, give her a break," he glowers.

“Yeah, Y/N’s just waiting for the right guy and there’s nothing wrong with that,” Sarah pipes in, always one to have her best friend’s back.

Harry raises an eyebrow, his gaze flickering between Y/N and Adam before settling on Y/N, who shifts uncomfortably. Sensing the tension, Mitch swiftly changes the subject to something else.

. . .

After lunch, Y/N made her way to her next class with Adam walking alongside her. Out of all of Mitch’s friends, she got on the most with Adam to the point where Sarah was constantly pestering her over considering a date with him but Y/N didn’t see him as any more than a good friend. He was quiet and kept to himself for the most part, excelling in the arts and playing bass guitar in a band on weekends. Y/N enjoyed the calmness he brought to the group especially with the others being so loud all the time.

“What do you think?” Adam asked, holding the strap of his backpack in one hand as it hung over his right shoulder.

“What do I think about what?” Y/N frowned.

“You know, Harry being back. I know you two didn’t always get along,” He explained.

Y/N scoffed, “If it weren’t for the fact he’s coaching me for the Academy Slam, I would be praying to whatever God that’d listen to send him back to Australia,” Which was also the furthest possible country he could be away from her.

Adam chuckled, “He told us earlier he’d be coaching you,”

Y/N scowled, “I bet he couldn’t get enough of it,”

“Actually he seemed pretty happy about it. We haven’t seen him that happy since he got back from Australia.”

“Really? Maybe that injury did something to his head,”

“What makes you hate him so much anyway?” Adam asked.

Y/N sighed. It was a question she heard often but never had a solid answer for. She couldn't quite explain why she disliked Harry so much. Maybe it was because he had things she wanted, and jealousy often turned into hatred. But there was something more, something she couldn't quite pin down.

Despite her dislike, Y/N went to all of Harry's matches, and she watched them on TV too. Even when she tried to stay in her room, her legs seemed to move on their own, taking her to the courts to watch him play. She hated that part of her rooted for him, and she couldn't figure out why. Maybe it was because Harry had been the first person to teach her how to play and she felt some sense of loyalty to that but she had no perfect answer even though she wished for one.

“His face annoys me,” Y/N says.

“That’s it?” Adam snickers.

“I don’t know,” Y/N shrugs, “We’ve always had this rivalry that stemmed out of nowhere but I can’t even remember how it started.”

“You don’t have feelings for him do you?” The question came out of nowhere and took Y/N completely off-guard.

"What? No!" Y/N's response came out a little too quickly, and she hoped her cheeks hadn't betrayed her by turning red.

Adam shrugged. "Just making sure," he said casually. "You know, some people get them mixed up—love and hate."

Y/N furrowed her brow, genuinely puzzled. "How is that even possible?"

"Well, they're both intense emotions, aren't they?" He mused. "And sometimes, when you feel strongly about someone, whether it's love or hate, it can blur the lines between the two."

Y/N pondered his words, a sense of unease settling in her stomach, "No way," she replied firmly, shaking her head. "I may not like him, but there's definitely no love there."

Adam chuckled, sensing her defensiveness. "Alright, that’s good," he said with a grin.

Y/N felt a hint of a smile on her lips, “What does that mean? That’s good?”

Adam shrugged, still smiling, “Jus’ saying,” He spoke and Y/N laughed.

Her gaze flicked from Adam's to Harry, who stood in the hallway with Molly Brown, her brunette waves tied up in the perfect, slicked back ponytail. Hoping to slip by unnoticed, she quickened her pace, but it was too late. Harry's eyes locked onto hers, then shifted to Adam. She caught the subtle twitch of his jaw before he pushed off the wall, ignoring Molly, and strode toward them.

Adam must not have noticed Harry coming towards them because he quickly bid goodbye so he could rush to his literature class. Y/N picked up her pace but Harry was already by her side, “Do you like him?” Harry asked.

“Who Adam? Well let’s see, he’s nice and smart and doesn’t feel the need to open his mouth every five seconds unlike some people I know, so yeah I do like him.”

Harry scoffed, “He’s a little boring don’t you think?”

Y/N rolled her eyes at Harry's comment, a retort already forming on her lips. "Nice of you to say that about your own best friend," she quipped. "Makes me wonder what you say about me."

Before she could say anything more, she gasped in surprise as Harry tugged on her hand and swiftly spun her around until her back was against the row of lockers. Her heart raced as he stepped forward, blocking her in, and dipped his head closer to hers.

"I think we need some ground rules for this whole coaching thing," Harry murmured, his voice low. "If you're planning on winning, I recommend using your time more wisely instead of wasting it on nice boys."

Y/N's breath caught in her throat as she processed his words. "Is that a rule or are you asking me not to date anyone?" she managed to ask, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Both," Harry replied, his tone unwavering.

Her mind raced, unsure how to respond, "What about you then?" she countered.

"Is that a personal request?" Harry's smirk widened, his gaze locking onto hers. "Because I'm the coach, and I set the ground rules so anything you ask me to do is because you want me to do it."

Y/N's heart pounded louder in her ears as Harry's proximity sent heat coursing through her, "It's only fair," she replied, her voice barely audible.

Harry chuckled softly. "Fine, if it makes you happy. But I’m not interested in dating nice girls or boys anyway," he remarked with a smirk.

Y/N swallowed, her curiosity piqued. "What are you interested in?"

He smirked, "The game," he replied cryptically.

With that, he moved away from her, his eyes lingering on her lips for a moment before he turned and walked down the hallway, “See you tonight, love.” He called back.

As the sound of his footsteps faded, Y/N stood there, stunned and unable to move. She was grateful that no one had witnessed the exchange as she pulled out her compact, trying to compose herself and hide the flush of embarrassment that coloured her cheeks.

As she hurried to class, already five minutes late, Y/N couldn't shake the intensity of her encounter with Harry. Sitting by the window, her mind wandered as the teacher lectured the class, her gaze drifting to the courts outside where she'd soon be training with him this evening.

This coach-student dynamic had unlocked a new territory between them, something unpredictable that Y/N had no choice but to delve into for the months ahead.

Yet, it was her only choice. Harry was the only way she could win and she’d push through whatever feelings she had to get what she wanted.

She’d play the game, just as he wanted her to.

1K notes · View notes

no-144444 · 7 days

Text

pointe shoes and racecars- o.piastri

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summary: you and oscar had grown up together, and grown apart. now you're teaching him ballet for a mclaren video. will you two reconnect?

pairing: oscar piastr x fem! ballerina! dancer

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Oscar Piastri was your best friend’s older brother, what could go wrong?

You’d moved to Melbourne when you were a kid with the rest of your family, and your brother quickly started karting at a local track. In comes the Piastri’s. You were sitting on the sidelines, bored out of your mind when a little girl a bit older than you came up to you with another girl, about your age, and another little girl, much younger than all three of you.

“Which one’s yours?” The eldest asked.

“The one in the red kart, my brother. You?”

“The one in the fluro yellow. He’s our brother,” she explained. “I’m Hattie, that’s Addie, and that’s Mae. Wanna be friends?”

You nodded. “Yeah! I’m Y/n.”

And since that day, you were. Turns out you and Addie ended up in the same class in school and became fast friends, then you ended up in the same ballet class, and it all snowballed from there. Playdates became hangouts and dolls became bitch-sessions, and soon enough you were all grown up. You were a constant in the Piastri family home, sleeping over most nights to carpool to early ballet, then school, then back to ballet, and then back to the Piastri home. You watched every race with the girls, growing up alongside Oscar and your brother from the beginning. You watched both of them in Formula Renault, Formula 3, Formula 2, and finally, Oscar’s second year Formula 1 was coming up, while you brother (Jack) was staying yet another year in F2. It was funny, whenever Oscar was home in recent years, you always seemed to miss him. You didn’t mind. Oscar and you weren’t all that close, you were closest to Addie, Hattie, Mae, and Nicole. Though, he texted you when he was away and you responded, apologising for missing him, he always told you that he’d ‘see you on the stage one day anyway’. He’d always supported you. You’d always supported him.

Sadly, your time living with the Piastri’s had come to an end. You had been given the chance of a lifetime in the form of a full scholarship to the Paris Opera Ballet School, and you weren’t going to turn it down, much to Nicole’s dismay. That was two years ago. Two full years of living in Paris, down.

Paris was amazing. You missed your family and you missed everyone back in Melbourne, but you loved it in Paris. Your new fellow dancers were so welcoming and nice, and you’d made fast friends with a group of them. You’d been doing French in school since you were a kid, and you loved getting to speak it with native speakers. You’d even been named an Etoile (star) in your first year. You’d helped the Paris Opera Ballet with their online presence and started a YouTube channel with some of your fellow dancers which had garnered over 4 million subscribers. Everything was brilliant.

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“Alright everyone, gather around!” Carole called. “We have been invited to the McLaren garage this weekend for the Monaco Gran Prix,” she explained. “We will be attempting to teach some of the staff some of Balcony Pas de deux from ‘Romeo and Juliet’, and also having a photo shoot with Vogue while we are there. Y/n and Hugo, I want those lifts as clean as possible! Chop chop!”

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The week went by and finally you were walking into the McLaren motorhome behind one of the staff members who was showing you around. In the end only 3 people from the company were required to go, Hugo (Romeo), Laura (one of the company's pianists), and you (Juliet). You walked around, keeping an eye out for Oscar, or the rest of the Piastri family who had all told you they’d be visiting.

You were quickly ushered into a makeshift filming studio and told to warm up while they gathered the people you’d be doing the video with you. You chatted and warmed up, trying a few of the lifts from the show and just generally practising your moves.

The door swung open and there he was. Oscar with a grim look on his face who hadn’t even recognised you.

“Do we really have to do this?” he not-so-subtly asked Lando beside him.

“Mate I don’t want to do it either-”

“Y/N!” Nicole’s voice cut through all the noise of the motorhome and the piano stopped. She ran and pulled you into a bone-crushing hug as you laughed.

“Hi Nicole,” you beamed, hugging her back. Hattie, Addie, and Mae weren’t far behind her, and joined in on the hug, emotions flowing as you all started to catch up.

“How are you? How’s work? How’s Paris?” Hattie asked immediately.

“How’s Paris? Is it amazing? Can I visit sometime?” Mae asked, speaking over her sister.

“How are you?!” Addie squealed, taking your hands.

“I’m great, so happy to see the four of you,” you smiled but it dampened as Hugo reminded you of the job at hand. “Sorry guys, we’ll need to catch up later, the fun police has just-”

“Quoi? Je ne suis pas la « police du plaisir » ! Nous avons un travail à faire !” (What? I am not the 'fun police'! We have a job to do!) He defended, but by then the girls had already cleared out, and you’d already turned your attention to Oscar and Lando.

“Hi,” you smiled at Oscar.

“Hi,” he smiled back, a hint of blush on his cheek. “I almost didn’t recognise you.”

“I could say the same for you,” you chuckled. “Became a Formula 1 driver and forgot about your friends, huh?”

He rolled his eyes, chuckling. “Don’t even.”

“Ready for some ballet?” Hugo smiled at the two men, who both just grimaced.

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You started warming them up, learning quickly that while Lando was not flexible, Oscar was even worse.

“And go down further if you can,” you instructed, pushing down on Oscar’s shoulders.

“Bug, I can’t go any further,” he chuckled.

“Bug?” Hugo questioned.

“Childhood nickname,” you dismissed. “Don’t start using it.”

Hugo nodded, holding his hands up in surrender. “Noted.”

“Holy shit, you’re ‘Bug’?” Lando gasped. “He talks about you all the time!”

You chuckled as Oscar’s cheeks went a brilliant shade of pink. “Sure Lando, I’ll believe that when I see it.”

“Alright!” Hugo announced. “Let’s start on some variations!”

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The boys watched in horror as you and Hugo danced around the room. Balcony Pas de deux, your favourite number of the entire show. You did everything perfectly, Hugo did everything perfectly, but when you two danced, sometimes there was something missing. You usually thought that it was just a lack of romantic chemistry because you were such great friends, or maybe it was something else. Lando and Oscar applauded as you two finished your piece, then you turned to them, smiling.

“I have to lift him?!” Lando stressed. You laughed with Hugo.

“No, you’ll be lifting me,” you explained. “Hugo’s going to teach you the moves and you’ll just need to lift me. You don’t even have to go on pointe. It’ll be fun, I promise.”

The boys stayed unconvinced. You’d picked an easy enough professional routine and you were sure they'd get it eventually. You started with teaching them how to properly lift someone so they wouldn’t get hurt, and they wouldn’t drop you. Unsurprisingly, Oscar was very good at this, you remembered how Addie and you would force him to practice lifts with you in the confines of the Piastri family home, and shockingly, the muscle memory was still there after so many years. So, you moved onto teaching him the moves for the first 20ish seconds of the dance. And unsurprisingly, he was very good at the lifts, not so good at the dancing. He couldn’t get his back leg low enough, or he couldn’t extend his arm enough, but you barely noticed. You were having too much fun to notice. You realised you’d been missing fun when dancing with Hugo. Juliet was this spontaneous, youthful character who was full of love and a craving to be loved. Oscar brought out that fun side of you. He always had. You laughed and smiled as you both danced, laughing when he’d trip or almost drop you, but neither of you cared. You moved on and taught him up to about the one minute mark in the piece. There was a lot of repetition and not a lot of male dancing in the first 60 seconds, so he was practically in the clear, all he had to do was smile and lift you. And he did. There wasn’t a moment where either of you weren’t smiling. He looked a bit uncoordinated and you looked thousands of times better than him, but you two were both smiling like little kids.

His hand slipped and he almost dropped you to the floor, concern and shock plastering itself on his face as he scrambled to catch you. “Shit, are you alright?” he asked, somehow catching you by pulling you to his chest.

“I’m fine Osc, no bruised sternums here,” you chuckled. He laughed, reminded of a crash you had in karting as a child.

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As the session came to a close, you did the first minute of the dance with Oscar and with Lando and determined that while Oscar was better at the lifts, Lando wasn’t half-bad either.

“Alright everyone, thanks for tuning in and tell us if you want to see us attempt this again!” Lando smiled at the camera.

“I have no idea how you do that every night,” Oscar sighed, clearly tired and out of breath.

“Sometimes twice a night,” Hugo corrected. “And yes, it is tiring.”

“I don’t know how you sit in a boiling car going 300 kilometres per hour for ninety minutes every Sunday,” you smiled.

“It is tiring,” he shrugged, smiling. “Do you want to grab lunch?”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” you nodded. “Let me just grab my stuff.”

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Catching up with Oscar felt great. You didn’t realise how much you two had in common. From movies, to books, and everything in between. You were even too busy laughing to hear Hugo call you to join him for the Vogue shoot.

“Y/n!” He repeated, gathering others' attention. “Come on! We are being timed here!”

“Coming!” you called back. “Sorry, I completely forgot about the time. Good luck in free practice today, please don't get yourself injured,” you said, pulling him into a hug. “Love you Osc!”

“Good luck!” He called after you. “Love you too Bug!”

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“Childhood crush?” Hugo asked as you two relaxed after the shoot, exhausted after your day.

“Nah, best friend’s brother,” you explained.

“Oh, so even more of a rom com then,” he chuckled.

You scoffed. “No. We’re friends, that’s it.”

“Friends? Friends don’t look at you like you’re the only person in the room, friends don’t somehow laugh their whole way through the first 60 seconds of Balcony Pas de deux, friends don’t make puppy dog eyes at you, and still call you by your childhood nickname!” He laughed. You groaned.

“We’re not like that! He’s just… he’s intense with his eye contact-!”

“He wasn’t intense like that for me!”

“I don’t know what to tell you!” You finally gave up. “Come on! There’s no way he-”

“Bug?” Oscar popped his head in the door, sweaty and smiling. “How’d it go?”

“All good,” you nodded. “How did Free Practice go?”

“Good,” he nodded, out of breath. “Went fastest in sector 2.”

“Very impressive!” Hugo smiled, pretending to know what that meant. You chuckled.

“I was wondering if you wanted to stay for the rest of the weekend,” Oscar offered. “Both of you, of course,” he gestured to you and Hugo. “I know you're busy but my mum would kill me if I didn't ask.”

You smiled. Someone else could cover Juliet for one weekend, right? “Yeah, that’d be great.”

“I’d better get back to Paris, but thank you for the kind offer,” Hugo smiled.

“Cool,” Oscar smiled at the both of you. “Addie has offered her room if you want to share with her, but there’s also my apartment, if you want your own bed.”

“My own bed please, Addie kicks in her sleep,” you chuckled. “Thanks Osc.”

“No problem.”

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You said your goodbyes to Hugo and followed the Piastri’s around Monaco for the rest of the day. You saw some of the sights, but eventually ended up in some fancy dinner with good food and good people around you. You were laughing at anyone’s jokes, telling stories, and genuinely just enjoying yourself. Paris had many things, but it didn’t have the Piastri’s. Sometimes you wished you could just shrink them and put them in your pocket to have them with you at all times.

“So, how’s Paris?” Oscar asked as the night died down. You two were on your way back to his apartment and you were a little bit wine-drunk, but neither of you cared.

“It’s amazing, but it doesn’t have you guys,” you patted his shoulder. “I miss you guys like crazy.”

He smiled. “I miss you too.”

“How’s Monaco? It’s so funny that we’ve lived an hour plane ride away from each other and we still haven’t visited each other,” you chuckled.

“Monaco’s nice,” he nodded. “But it doesn’t have you here.”

Suddenly you were a lot more sober than you were 5 seconds ago. “Well, I’m here right now.”

“Exactly,” he smiled. “It’s really good to see you Bug.”

“It’s good to see you too,” you smiled. “Beetle.”

He laughed as you brought up his old nickname. Most people resorted to calling him ‘Osc’ or ‘Ozzy’ now that he’d grown up. He thinks his mum stopped calling him ‘Beetle’ when she visited him at school or races because you weren’t around to be ‘Bug’. Neither of you remembered why it had started, but you and Oscar were Bug and Beetle. It probably would’ve made more sense to have Addie as Beetle, with how much time you two spent together, but in reality it was just both your mums’ collective hopeful thinking that your friendship would turn into something much more. It might’ve, if you’d both stuck around long enough to see it through. Some part of him wondered how his life would’ve turned out if he’d stayed. Not that he didn’t love his life, he did. He was everything he’d ever dreamed of (well, not a Gran Prix winner yet so, not everything), well, everything but one thing. He didn’t realise it at the time, but in every single one of his visualisations of his future that he did as a child (something about a winner’s mentality? He didn’t understand it at the time), he’d imagined you being there with him. He never explicitly said it, but you were either his girlfriend or wife, or something other than a friend. It had always been a certain to him. You were his Bug. He was your Beetle. It just worked.

“What’re you thinking about?” you asked, leaning into him as the street lights illuminated his face. Since when was he so pretty?

“Us as kids,” he smiled. “Remember trying to teach you karting?”

“You mean bruising my sternum? Yes I remember the month of agony thank you very much,” you chuckled. “And I remember how stressed you were running over to me. I think it was the first time I’d ever seen you lose your cool.”

“Well I was about as stressed then as I was today when I almost dropped you,” he laughed.

“Well, you saved me this time,” you chuckled. “My knight in a shining papaya?”

He laughed. “Sounds about right.”

As you two came up to his apartment building, your conversation died down. You two went up to his apartment and he gave you the grand tour, finally showing you your bed for the nights. You said your ‘goodnights’ and then a problem plagued you. It was just meant to be a day trip to Monaco, you were meant to fly back earlier, and now here you were in Monaco with just your dance bag. What was in your dance bag? Your various shoes, a multitude of toe pads and things to stop the pain, three different water bottles, and some random leotards and a skirt.

“Osc?” you knocked on his door, hoping he wasn’t asleep already.

“Yeah?” he came to the door, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Of course, classic Oscar, asleep in seconds. “Everything alright?” He yawned.

No. Everything was very much not alright. He’d come to the door with no shirt on, and you really couldn’t focus on the problem at hand. “I have no clothes,” you blurted out.

He immediately opened his eyes and stared at you, then his brain processed fully what you said. “Oh, no pyjamas,” he nodded. “Sorry, I thought you meant- I’m actually just going to stop myself now.”

You chuckled. “Probably best.”

“Well I’ll give you a hoodie and some of my shorts?” he offered. “Just to sleep in, and then I can bring you to the shopping centre down the way. I think there’s a Zara there or something.”

“You really don’t need to bring me, I’m sure I can find it on my own. I’m sure you’re busy tomorrow-”

“Nonsense,” he shook his head, handing over the clothes. “I have time for you.”

“Thanks Osc.”

You went to sleep with significantly more to think about, so did he.

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You woke up the next morning to the sound of a smoke alarm, a shouting Nicole, and a cursing Oscar. You quickly got up to witness the commotion.

“Y/n! Thank God you’re here!” She groaned and turned to Oscar. “I cannot believe you live on your own, you’re 23 and you can’t make eggs without almost burning your building down?!”

“It wasn;t my fault!” he defended. “You’re the one who came to the door!”

Nicole rolled her eyes as the girls laughed, watching this all unfold. Addie came over and stood beside you, smiling brightly at you.

“What?” you chuckled.

“Nothing,” she smirked. “Nice hoodie.”

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes. “I had no other clothes,” you explained as the arguing continued.

“Not a fan of sleeping in a leo?” she smirked.

“Shockingly no, and also, we have to go shopping for clothes now, since all of mine are in Paris.”

“Shopping! Yes!” Mae cheered. “Let’s go,” she said, immediately starting to drag you out of the apartment.

“I’m not even dressed-!” Your complaints were met with nothing but more pulling.”Alright, alright! Let me grab my phone and my wallet, then I’ll be back out to you, yeah?”

“Yay!” Mae cheered.

You went back into your room, tried your best to make the hoodie and men’s shorts combo look good (it didn’t) and grab your things, then came back out. Oscar was cleaning up the kitchen as Hattie talked to him about the free practice and quali today, and Mae jumped up the moment she saw you.

“Time to go!” she announced. “Bye Osc, good luck! See you at the track!” she called, already halfway out the door.

You chuckled, following behind her, Addie, and Nicole. “Bye Osc!”

He grabbed ahold of your hand and placed a key in your palm. “In case you want to come back and change,” he smiled.

“Thanks Osc,” you grinned. “Maybe leave the cooking to me tonight?”

“You don’t have to-”

“Osc, you’re letting me stay at your house, and you got me a paddock pass to see you. Let me make you dinner.”

He nodded. “Alright. Thank you.”

His hand lingered for another few seconds before Mae called back to you, willing you to ‘come on!’.

“See you later,” you smiled.

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Shopping was fine, you bought some clothes and essential hygiene and makeup, then went back to Oscar’s apartment and got dressed just as FP3 started. You all rushed over to the track to watch, and it went well for Oscar, quali was probably going to be interesting, as per usual. Monaco was always a very special track and you really did enjoy looking around at the beautiful scenery. You noticed how the cameras followed you around, but you just put that down to being with his family.

“Y/n! Can I get a photo?!” a young girl asked. You smiled and knelt down to be at her level.

“Of course you can,” you smiled. “What’s your name?”

“Carlotá,” she nodded. “I do ballet! I love you, you’re so good. I want to be as good as you one day!”

“Well I can’t wait to see you on stage one day! Maybe we’ll even get to dance together,” you chuckled, heart warmed by her enthusiasm.

“I hope we do!” she smiled.

You quickly got a photo with her and then you were back on your way to the McLaren hospitality with Addie talking your ear off about her new college courses as you listened intently. Suddenly, Oscar was in front of you, sweaty but smiley.

Nicole immediately pulled him into a tight hug and you saw the weight lift off of her shoulders, if only for a short time. “All my kids are safe,” she sighed, and you knew you were a part of that. You’d always admired how much she cared and how deeply she cared about everyone in her life, it was incredible. Hattie hugged him next, then Addie, and lastly Mae. You smiled and gave him a pat on the back as Zak Brown ushered you further into the hospitality for a ‘family lunch’.

“So, I never knew Oscar had a girlfriend,” Zak smiled, turning to you.

Your face dropped. “Oh, um… he’s not my boyfriend. I’m just a family friend,” you explained. The air in the room had been sucked out and everything was a bit more awkward.

“Oh gosh! Sorry, I just thought because of the video- I really need to remember to not just believe YouTube comments,” he chuckled. He’d somehow charmed his way out the awkward moment, and you found yourself laughing too.

Oscar wasn’t laughing. He quite liked the idea that his boss thought you were his girlfriend. He was just as fond of the internet thinking you were his girlfriend. He’d made a devastating revelation last night. His mum had been right all those years when she told him that he’d end up with you. Well, not that you’d ended up together yet, he still had to do the ‘asking out’ part. Nicole watched as his frown deepened the more you laughed at the comments of the YouTube video of you teaching Lando and Oscar ballet with Hugo.

“Wow, I think you might need to post something to tell everyone you’re just friends,” Zak laughed, showing you some more comments.

You nodded. “I’ll post a baby picture or something,” You chuckled, turning to Oscar. “At least you’ve got the acting part of ballet down.”

He smiled. “Exactly.”

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As the day progressed, you watched with bated breath as quali went underway, and Oscar qualified P2. You were ecstatic, jumping up and down with Addie and Nicole as Hattie and Mae cried in the back. All five of you had never been good with toning it down during his races. You just loved him so much, NOT like that, obviously. But in the friendly, totally platonic, family friend way.

Nicole led the rest of you through the motorhome and you finally found him, sweaty and smiley once again.

“Osc!” Nicole cheered, pulling him in for a hug. Addie, Hattei, and Mae all joined their hug, and you weren’t sure if it was right for you to join too, so you stayed back, taking a few photos of the five of them hugging. A part of you wanted to make it your wallpaper, but suddenly Oscar was in front of you.

“Congratulations!” you smiled.

“Y/n, I’m tired and I really don’t want to beg for a hug, please?” He smiled. You chuckled and wrapped your arms around his neck, his went around your waist, burying his face in your shoulder. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“Well done Osc,” you smiled.

You didn’t catch the way Addie and Hattie smirked at each other, or the way Nicole gushed over the two of you, or the way Mae took a few photos of the two of you, immediately sending them to Oscar’s phone, knowing he’d want them.

You pulled back, a bright smile on your face, then turned to the girls. “Alright, I’m making dinner tonight, you guys ready to go?”

“Oh, we have a booking at this restaurant tonight,” Nicole sighed. “Another time?”

You nodded. “Of course, see you all later,” you smiled.

If you’d looked slightly more to your left, you would’ve seen Oscar silently beg them to not intrude on the date you didn’t know was a date. Of course, being the Y/noscar shippers they were, they obliged with as minimal smirking as possible, which was a lot. You hugged them goodbye then turned to Oscar.

“Alright, you go shower and then direct me to the nearest supermarket!” You instructed and he smiled.

“Sir, yessir,” he joked, saluting you. “You can wait in my driver’s room if you want.”

“Sounds good.”

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Your evening was wonderful, you spent the evening walking around Monaco and grabbing supplies for dinner, then the actual cooking was rather enjoyable (aka you cooked your famous chilli and he sat in the corner, chatting away to you) and finally, cozying up on the couch with your favourite childhood movie, Cars. Well, it was his favourite, yours was Ballerina. Anyways, as the film continued on, you found yourselves getting closer and closer to each other. First it was an arm around the back of the couch, then an arm around you, then you were leaning into his side, until you had your head on his chest and he had a satisfied smile on his face.

As the film came to a close, you got up and stretched, yawning.

“Y/n,” he spoke. “I’ve really enjoyed having you around these past few days,” he smiled.

“I’ve really enjoyed being around you,” you smiled back.

“I’m in love with you,” he blurted out. It wasn’t exactly the smooth delivery he’d imagined since he was a teenage boy stalking your instagram from thousands of kilometres away, but it would work. Hopefully.

“Pardon?” You stared at him shocked.

He let out a nervous breath. “I’m in love with you.”

You nodded. You didn’t exactly know what to make of it all. You loved him too, so why wouldn’t your mouth make the words? This was so stupid, just say it! Say it! Say-“I love you too,” you finally blurted out after a few seconds of buffering.

His nervous frown turned into a bright smile, and his hands landed on your waist, pulling you into him. He hugged you close for a moment, internally calming down. “Kept me waiting there,” he chuckled.

“Sorry,” you smiled. You pulled away a little bit, then pressed your lips to his. “Brain fart.”

He laughed, then pressed his lips to yours again, in a perfect, Oscar, kiss. You could feel his hands on your waist, every brush of his brush against your forehead, every piece of skin on yours. You couldn’t get enough.

“You have a race in the morning,” you whispered, pulling back from the kiss just enough to remind him.

He nodded, connecting your lips again. His kisses were getting more and more heated, more and more consuming, more and more hungry. He was barely listening. He was kissing you. Everything little him had dreamt of.

“Oscar,” you pulled back, getting serious. “Wait until after the race, alright?”

He nodded, pressing his lips to your again, this time quicker and softer. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise,” you smiled. “I would want to too, just… I don’t want to impair you’re-” you awkwardly tried to explain as he tried to hold back laughter. He failed and ended up laughing in your face, only making you laugh too.

“God I love you,” he smiled bashfully.

“I love you too.”

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The next morning, you woke up to Oscar beside you, his arms wrapped around you. You smiled. This felt right. He felt right.

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You walked into the paddock hand in hand and Nicole immediately gasped. “You’re finally together?!”

You laughed. “Yeah, we are,” you nodded. The four of them were a mix of cheering and crying, all ecstatic for you both.

“If you hurt her I’ll kill you!” Addie warned, pointing a finger in Oscar’s face.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he smiled, looking at you.

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You watched in awe as he crossed the finish line in P2, celebrating with his sisters and mum. You all ran to the Parc Fermé, ready to greet him. He ran over to you five, hugging his mum first, then running straight to you. He smiled then pulled you in for a kiss.

“Congratulations,” you smiled, pulling back.

“I have to watch you dance now,” he rushed out as Addie pulled him over for a hug. “I love you!” He shouted, being pulled away by Lando, knowing they were on a time crunch.

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2,830,623 likes liked by landonorris, y/nballet, and others oscarpiastri Bagged myself a dancer, and a second place trophy. Great weekend :)

comments

user83: WHAT THE FUCK MY WORLDS COLLIDING

user73: BRO HAS ULTIMATE RIZZ -> Hattiepiastri: INCORRECT BUZZER, they've been in love with each other since they could walk, they just didn't know it yet.

nicolepiastri: My babies ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

landonorris: NOW HE'LL STOP THIRSTING -> oscarpiastri: polly not...

y/nballet: my love ❤️

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

7,830,725 likes liked by oscarpiastri, hugomarchand, nicole piastri and others

y/nballet: Bagged myself an Osc :)

oscarpiastri: I love you ❤️ -> y/nballet: No papaya heart? -> oscarpiastri: shut up please.

user73: WHAT IS GOING ON IN THE HOUSE OF COMMONS??? -> user26: they've been friends forever and now they're dating :)

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula one imagine #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x you #formula one x reader #formula 1 #formula one #mclaren #oscar piastri x fem!reader #f1 fluff

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9jacompass · 2 years

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France Scholarships 2023 | Fully Funded- Apply Now

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scholarhunter · 2 years

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International Selection Scholarships by École Normale Supérieure France

International Selection Scholarships by École Normale Supérieure France: The Ecole normale supérieure aims at varying its students’ profiles and incorporates students to be enrolled in the 3rd year of bachelor (license 3) or 1st year of master (master 1), coming from all over the world and from all disciplines. The competitive examination of the International selection is intended for young…

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hwangism143 · 5 months

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off-limits

synopsis: hwang hyunjin was multiple things to you: incredible. god-like. everything. but most of all, he was off-limits. that is, until, you both are forced to share a room at a beach getaway. sounds perfectly romantic, right? except for your fear of the ocean and his recent break-up.

pairing: non-idol!hyunjin x fem!reader

genre: best friends brother trope, one room trope, angst, fluff

warnings: mentions of alcohol, swearing, mentions of death, nightmares, graphic description of nearly drowning, eating and food, slightly suggestive, near death experience

please do not read if any of these topics are triggering

word count: 15.4k words

playlist: box in the ocean - alessia cara, swimming pools - francis on my mind, mixtape: time out - stray kids

a/n: guys. my baby is here. this was requested by the wonderful @scarlet789 also, shout out to my bae avi (@stayinlimbo) for letting me scream in her dms. as usual, pls leave your comments and reblog!! they mean everything to me <3

"all these explosive emotions, i'm holding"

Hwang Hyunjin was multiple things to you. Beautiful, heavenly and ethereal were just a few words to describe him. Off-limits, however, was probably the best and most encompassing in this situation. He was your best friend Hyun-jee's brother, and a long time ago, you chose friendship over love.

Hyun-jee and her brother came from an extremely well off family. Hyun-jee's mother was a famous model while her father was the owner of one of the most popular media channels in South Korea. Unlike the stereotypical rich kid, however, Hyun-jee genuinely did want to inherit her father's business someday, eagerly waiting to take over as CEO after his retirement. For now though, she was content with just being the CFO of their overseas subsidiary.

Hyunjin however, was a bit of an enigma when it came to company legacy. Rebellious couldn't be the right word considering his parents never really minded about what he would become (they did have the extremely ambitious to the point of it being slightly terrifying younger daughter). Hyunjin was destined for greatness though. The entire Hwang family was. To your astonishment, even the family dog had his own fanpage.

Hyunjin had cemented himself in the art industry, having gone to a special arts high school and studied painting in Paris for a few years. His artwork sold in the millions, and their relevance was extremely pertinent to everyday life. A part of you marveled about how you even came to become friends with such extraordinary people when you were just the opposite of that, bland and normal.

You first met Hyun-jee in boarding school, you with a scholarship and starry eyes and Hyun-jee with her father's massive paycheck and worldly wisdom that rivaled that of the oldest ahjumma's. It was an international one, meaning that the medium of speaking was almost entirely English. You could have taken Korean as well, of course, but you opted for French instead. That was when you met Hyun-jee, the dorm arrangements being set according to the second language chosen.

Hyun-jee shone as bright as a star but she never made that cover your light. If anything, she amplified it to an incredible degree. Being friends with her wasn't slavery (as popularized by fiction), but instead it was earth-shaking, revolutionary and the most brilliant thing to happen.

Ah, fourteen year old minds.

But really, Hyun-jee was a friend you would always cherish, having been extremely close to her even after graduation. Every first day of school, you two would curl up in the couch of your common room and start telling each other all about your wild summers.

You knew, of course, about Hyun-jee's brother, but she rarely brought him up. He was a slightly sensitive topic in your friendship and you knew why. All you knew was that he liked painting and was a year older than Hyun-jee.

To be completely honest, not only were you Hyun-jee's best friend, you were also probably her first and only close friend. People had a tendency to get close with Hyun-jee just to take advantage of her family. Nine out of ten times, that was girls who wanted to date Hyunjin.

Hyun-jee loved you for being completely unaware about who she was until after you met her. Not being a South Korean native, you had no idea who the Hwang family was. The only member you did personally know was Hwang Hyun-jee, future CEO. Except to you, she was nearly a sister. She was the girl who snorted milk out of her nose while laughing, owned practically a shrine dedicated to Michael B. Jordan and had the most awful bed head. You saw a Hyun-jee that she only showed to two people in this world: you and Hyunjin.

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All that ambiguity was about Hyunjin was about to change however, that junior year of high school. It was the first day of school and you were waiting for Hyun-jee to be dropped off near the school gates. This time though, it wasn't her old driver but someone a lot younger pulling up to the school front.

Hyun-jee opened the door and practically flew into your arms, causing a giggle to arise from your mouths and the both of you slightly stumbling backwards. Behind her, you heard a throat clear.

"Your bags, miss?" came an overly exaggerated tone of what you assumed was a male.

"Oh, piss off Hyunjin," snapped Hyun-jee, straightening her school uniform and letting go of you. She quickly introduced you both to each other. Hyunjin offered his hand and, your brain must have been on autopilot because your hand smoothly grabbed his without a hitch.

Your mind, however, was a mess.

Hyunjin was absolutely gorgeous. You could tell why so many women (and some men) pined over him. His then blonde hair fell into his eyes and he had a literal, a literal twinkle in his eyes. You probably just imagined it, but when your hand grabbed his, you felt a shock coursing through (although in hindsight it was probably just static electricity). He was attractive, yes, but you wouldn't really call it a crush, per se. It was more of a 'hey. you're good looking.' type of situation, not a 'i have envisioned our entire future together pls marry me.' kind of situation.

That was, until, Hyun-jee invited you (well, more forced by her parents to invite you) to spend the summer before senior year at her family's ski resort.

Hyunjin made you feel like you were glowing, like you were the only person in the room. If Hyun-jee amplified your brightness, Hyunjin captured it, understanding you in a way nobody else did.

While Hyun-jee was off skiing and being athletic, you and Hyunjin spent hours locked in the library. Sometimes, you sat in silence. Other times, you talked about everything under the sun, from classical literature and Jane Austen to cat videos and singing to Taylor Swift.

Being a huge bookworm yourself, you adored the concerningly large labyrinth which they called a library housed in their lodge. Hyunjin would paint on a chair with him and his easel facing you as you would lounge on the sofa, poring over yet another thick, hard bound novel. Then, you would pass that book to Hyunjin, who would also read it, giving you both a topic of conversation.

You were never bitter towards Hyun-jee for leaving you behind with Hyunjin while she took classes and taught classes at the local ice rink and snow hill. She always was better left outside than cooped up inside, unlike you and Hyunjin who were ambiverted to a fault and short-circuited if outdoors for too long.

In fact, you were thankful for it. If Hyun-jee hadn't been gone long enough for you and Hyunjin to have some time together, you never would have experienced falling in love with him. If that is what it was.

Your relationship never blossomed into something more than soft smiles and knowing glances, even the occasional (and never accidental, at least on your part) brush of fingers being constrained and a rare occurrence. Even though you weren't sure if Hyunjin had such feelings towards you, you both knew that there was a line you couldn't cross.

Still, your brain romanticized all of it. Being in love with you best friend's brother, secluded moments in a library... it really was turning into an 'i have found a wedding dress. get a ring. we are already mentally married.' cacophony of feelings. Paired with the snowy backdrop of the mountains and Hyunjin more often than not offering you his hoodie, you were, to put it mildly, in heaven.

"Hey, do you want to make hot chocolate or bake something? I'm not really getting inspiration to paint and..." Hyunjin just waved his arm around, trailing off and looking at you with hopeful eyes.

The lodge had a personal chef who could whip something up at just a sentence. He knew that. You knew that. You grinned at him, "Okay. Let's do it."

The two of you worked your way up to the private kitchen (the shock you felt and finding out they had two kitchens was so comical that Hyun-jee even recorded it). Baking with Hyunjin was terrifying. By the end of it, you had flour all over you, Hyunjin having icing on his cheek. The end result was delicious but very off-putting looking cupcakes.

While Hyunjin busied himself with cleaning, you swiped your thumb across the icing that had laid base on his face (conveniently missing the tissues practically staring at you).

Hyunjin turned his head to look at you in surprise, eyebrows scrunched and cheeks puffed. "I'm sorry," you stammered, "There was icing and-"

"No," he laughed, "It's not that. Your hands are really cold. I thought I was doing a good job of keeping you warm."

A small pout formed on his face as he motioned to take your hands. You obliged and he rubbed them for a bit, humming along to some pop song that was trending. As he was doing so, you nearly bore a hole into the floor with tour eyes, trying (and hopefully succeeding) in hiding the massive blush threatening to creep onto your face.

That night, Hyun-jee asked you nonchalantly, "Is something going on between you and my brother?"

While the question might have seemed like an innocent one, you knew the venom and pain behind it. Your thoughts were only confirmed by her usage of the terminology 'my brother', instead of just his name.

You were laying down on her bed, bile rising in your throat. Love or friendship? The thoughts in your head collided, crashing into each other like a tsunami. Hyun-jee had been there for you your entire time in Korea, caring for you like you were her own blood. Hyunjin had only known you for a few weeks but made you feel like the only girl in the world.

Your conflicting feelings towards both your situations gnawed and twisted at you like a thorn bush, scratchy weeds clawing at you and desperately awaiting respite. All it would take to get rid of that awful feeling would be one sentence of confirmation or otherwise.

Hyun-jee made eye contact with you through the mirror as she brushed her hair. "Well?" she prompted, slightly impatiently.

You rolled over onto your stomach, eyes locked onto hers. "Hm? Sorry I couldn't hear you. Nope, we're just friends, if you can even call it that." You shrugged at her and she shot you a grateful smile, eyes full of relief. Your stomach, on the other hand, was tangled up in knots that felt painfully similar to the knots that had wound their way into your heart.

Hyunjin didn't see you in the library again.

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The irony of your situation, looking back was, well... ironic. Of the three months that you spent with the Hwang family, half of it went in trying to spend as much time with Hyunjin as possible and the other half went in avoiding him at all costs.

You were never a hopeless romantic, not really. You knew what love practically looked like, and that it wasn't perfect. If it was, then the phrase wouldn't be something as harsh as falling in love, would it? However, one thing that you constantly chided yourself about was the importance of first love.

You placed first love on a pedestal higher than anything else. You were extremely meticulous about it though. You were frighteningly determined to experience the most perfect first love one ever could, tailored to your desires. Falling in love with Hyunjin, however, was not part of the plan.

Falling in love with Hyunjin was like breathing. It came so naturally, as if it was always there but couldn't be shaken off as soon as you noticed it. It felt inevitable, it felt like life was giving you another reason to live in the form of a soft-spoken artistic boy who had a penchant for dyeing his hair.

It was so extremely easy too. How could it not be? The way his eyes crinkled in the sides when he smiled and high pitched laugh were sensations that you would pay anything to relive. The way his eyes never left you when you passionately (and sometimes violently) gesticulated about your favorite books, the way he somehow understood what you were communicating his way even without you verbalizing it, made you realize that no one had ever quite made you feel this way.

'This way', being, feeling excited at just the mere thought at knowing that you were inhaling the same air as them. Small firecrackers igniting in your stomach at just the thought of seeing them. Feeling like you would simultaneously combust and drown if you couldn't be with them.

You often lied to yourself though. No, it wasn't love. Just a passing crush, was your mantra, repeated over and over again in your head until you almost believed it. Almost. A passing crush wouldn't entail not being able to concentrate on anything apart from Hyunjin when he was in front of you. A passing crush wouldn't cause you to look at him when he thought you weren't, in an attempt to memorize his features, capture every moment and seal it in an imaginary locket.

The reason why you made yourself think these thoughts were because you were unraveling. The realization that your first love did not love you back, not even a little bit (or so you thought) crashed down all your ideals about romance. The you that existed back then was positive that you would never, ever, love again. If the person you had first fallen in love with couldn't fall in love with you, then how could anyone else?

Of course, compared to your life now, such issues felt trivial. Right? Then why did you still have such a hard time forming romantic attachments? Why was your self-esteem when it came to be loved was in the gallows, rotting in the negatives?

It wasn't Hyunjin's fault, it never was in your head. It was the causation and effect of your own fucked up idolization of falling in love for the first time. You had so profoundly accepted the notion of first love being unforgettable that you only assumed it to be positive, not even thinking about how you would grapple with the situation if it were negative.

Maybe if you did, you would learn and grow from every failed romance that you would have, all up until you found 'the one', even if it was just for that moment. But you didn't. Instead, you had grown such a clawing and deafening fear of rejection that you refused to fall in love at all.

Somedays, the loneliness would get to you. The day Hyun-jee announced to you that she officially had a girlfriend, you were happy, immensely so, but a part of you just... broke. Going to parties and dinners and even just staying in with your friends meant that you had to witness all the small things about love that you would never experience.

Your friends and their significant others were never obvious around you. They weren't constantly touching each other and making comments about their undying love for each other. But even those tiny actions, the little aspects, didn't go unnoticed by you.

The small smile of affection on one's face at anything the other did, an entire conversation passing through just a glance, the featherweight touches that probably had a heavier meaning that you would ever know - all of this was just something you could vicariously experience through the people in love all around you.

Maybe, if you weren't such a coward, you would be in love right now too, instead of wallowing in despair and the trenches of missing out.

On the last day of your stay at the Hwang lodge, you went to the library to see Hyunjin one last time. For seeking some sort of closure? Probably. For seeing Hyunjin one last time and committing his features and mannerisms, anything and everything that made up him to memory? Definitely.

You had pushed the doors open softly, letting out a shaky breath and attempting to still your restless legs. Hyunjin was hard at work behind a large canvas, propped up on a wooden easel. His arm furiously brushed against the canvas, angry strokes slapping against the medium of artwork.

He didn't notice you, continuing his work, until you cleared your throat. "Hi," you said uncertainly. Hyunjin looked at you in perplexation, like a deer caught in headlights. Quickly turning around his easel and regaining his composure, he motioned for you to take a seat on the couch.

You took him in, the light streaming in from the large window bathing him in cold sunlight that glinted off the snow. He looked like he wasn't human. It hit you, the absurdity of it all. If there was one word you would use to describe Hwang Hyunjin, it would be human.

He captured humanity within him in the sweetest form possible. He wasn't the blueprint, not by any means; he could be petty, overly dramatic and had a bit of a temper. But he was kind-hearted, constantly curious and overwhelmingly empathetic. He was so perfectly imperfect that it was incredible to you how someone like him could be a product of society as cruel as this.

"I leave in a few weeks," he said almost ponderingly, breaking a silence that hung between the two of you that was, for the first time, uncomfortable.

"If you want, I can get you something," he enunciated. You knew there were several unsaid words on his end; there were some on yours as well. But you had almost no indication about what they could possibly be, and were itching to know what they were.

"We can't- we can't be friends," you blurted out.

Hyunjin's expression was one of expectation. So he knew this was coming. He sat down next to you and let out a resounding sigh.

"I know. I'll send you something from Paris anyways," he lightly responded, attempting to liven up the mood. You just raised a shoulder and the two of you sat there for what felt like hours. Finally, you got up and made your way to the door. But before that, you stopped.

"Do you mind if I see what you were painting?"

Hesitantly, Hyunjin turned the easel around. You were met with absolutely nothing, just splashes of water all over the canvas.

"Artist's block," he said matter-of-factly.

You nodded as if you understood, even though you didn't and walked out the door with a, "Thank you. I'm sorry."

Head hung in shame, you took a step outside. You were about to step out when a voice called out to you, "It was nice, to pretend. Even if it was just for a while."

You turned to give him a wry smile, "Thank you for making summer fun for me."

He would understand what you told him. You knew he would. But that didn't mean it wouldn't hurt. That was the last time you had ever physically seen Hwang Hyunjin, ever spoken to him.

He never sent you anything from Paris.

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While you wished that your relationship with Hyunjin would be one for the romcoms, your relationship with Hyun-jee was definitely one for the situational comedies. The rich girl becoming best friends with the new scholarship student? Cable TV viewer gold.

If you were being completely honest, the first time you met Hyun-jee you did find her a little bit stuck up. The two of you had to end up being friends though. Studying the same language, French, meant that she was your roommate for the four years you would spend at that high school (unbeknown to you then, she would spend another five years as your roommate in university).

Seeing Hyun-jee walk into the dorm room, decked in designer clothes and lugging a large suitcase behind her, was enough to demolish your self-confidence. The sight made you feel extremely self-conscious about your jeans, which were sporting gravy stains, and the mud brown sweater vest which your mother simply insisted you must buy.

All your fear disappeared, however, when one of Hyun-jee's heels (Dior!) caught on the edge of the living room carpet. She collapsed onto it, placing her palms face down to avoid hitting her face. She looked up at you.

"Hi, I'm Hyun-jee. I would shake your hand, but this is the unfortunate circumstance of letting my mother style me for the first day of school."

You laughed and offered her your hand and she held onto it, steadying to her feet. You gave her your name and a once-over to make sure she wasn't hurt. Then when you finally looked into her eyes, the two of you burst into laughter over the farcical situation that had just taken place. You both were wheezing by the end of your solid ten minute fit of laughter, laying on the couch in contorted positions and trying to catch your breath. Her eye caught yours, just setting of another bout of giggles.

You two had been inseparable ever since.

Hyun-jee wasn't as perfect as she was made out to be, and she had no shame in it. If she had the choice, she would go everywhere in her pajamas. She was horrible at Math and made fun of the World History teacher you both shared, convinced he was a Freemason. Hyun-jee was as human as one could get.

Even her parents were quite natural around you, or at least the cookies her mother sent everywhere which she and Hyun-jee baked made it seem that way. Hyun-jee was always sensitive when it came to the topic of her family. She skirted around it when it was a topic of conversation as if it was poison.

It wasn't that she had a bad relationship with them; she adored her family. She just seemed extremely uncomfortable about the topic, so you never really pried, instead regaling her with stories about your two younger sisters, parents and lineage of goldfish with abnormally high mortality rates.

There was moment in your life when you understood the gravity of just how alone people like Hyun-jee was in this world. You had noticed, that despite being extremely well-known and friendly with everyone, Hyun-jee could only call you her friend. On the other hand, you weren't at all as well known as Hyun-jee but had multiple friends.

That moment was at this end of the year party your academy was hosting to celebrate the end of exams. The upperclassmen were planning to go to another location, without teachers for an afterparty, but you had convinced Hyun-jee against attending it. She always had been the risk taker in your friendship.

You were walking around, checking off your social pleasantries. Light shone in the big auditorium and you swished around your floral flock. You caught Hyun-jee rejecting yet another poor guy (too bad he didn't know she was gay), and laughed a little to yourself. Even at fourteen, Hyun-jee had model-like looks. Probably because she inherited them.

You were lost in the moment of it all, entranced by the fact that you were even standing here. Coming to this prestigious international academy was your dream. It would kickstart your scientific career, which, back then, only revolved around discovering something incredible and winning a Nobel Peace Prize.

You came from an extremely mundane family. Middle class, living in a different country in a three bedroom apartment. Both of your parents worked in software engineering, and while you loved them for it, you couldn't help but find it slightly boring. You wanted to do something great, be someone great.

Hyun-jee must have walked over to you at some point in time when you hadn't noticed, because she laced her arms through the crook of your elbow and asked, "What's got you so concentrated, wife?"

Hyun-jee had a habit of jokingly calling you her wife, which you always entertained because why not? She had made it extremely clear that she would never date you, despite being romantically interested in women. "Eh, too nerdy," was her response when you asked why. She wasn't wrong though; if it wasn't for your 'nerdiness', you wouldn't be where you were.

You just shrugged in response to her question and turned to give her a smile. The expression you were met with gave you a bit of a surprise. For once in her life, Hwang Hyun-jee looked serious about something. Her normally mischievous eyes were now set in an unreadable expression.

"What is it?" you asked as the two of you headed to the buffet. Hyun-jee grabbed two plates, one for you and one for her, and proceeded to put a little bit of everything in her plate onto yours, despite you already having taken a lot.

She didn't give you a reply, instead opting to walk towards the table where you two had laid claim. You towed behind obediently, sitting down with a satisfied 'ah!' after having been standing for over an hour. You were digging into your food, relishing the taste of school food that was good for once (okay, that was a lie; your school actually gave you good food but that was only justified considering the insane costs).

"I was trying to figure out a way to say this but..." Hyun-jee's voice faltered.

Your glanced at her, finally looking up from your plate after eating like a starved, ravenous beast. Your eyes slightly widened. Did she not want to be friends with you anymore?

Hyun-jee took a visibly deep breath, "I just wanted to say thank you."

"Thank you for being my friend. I have never really had anyone to call my own. If anybody ever got close to me, it was just to take advantage of me or use me to gain access to my family. Especially when it comes to my brother that I mentioned, remember? Hyunjin. Guys aren't friends with me because they're intimidated by him and girls only become friends with me because they want to date him. All my life I have felt like nothing more than a porcelain doll, only valuable because I held the title of being a Hwang daughter. I was labelled before I was even born, I have had to wear that label, written all over myself with fake pride, even though it sickens me. That was until I met you though. As Disney cliché as it sounds, you not knowing anything about my family and treating me like a normal person has really made me feel seen this past couple of months. Thank you, Y/N, for being my friend. A real one."

Tears began streaming down your face and streaming down her face. Paired with the emotional word vomit that Hyun-jee had just placed before you and both of you being on your menstrual cycles, this was kind of bound to happen.

You reached over to give her hand a squeeze. You were unable to say anything, partly because you were choked up with emotion and mostly because you had stuffed an entire slice of chocolate cake into your mouth while Hyun-jee was in the middle of her monologue.

That was the day that you made sure to make Hyun-jee never feel used, and that started with keeping her family at a seven-foot man's arm's length.

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seven months before.

Needless to say, your friendship with Hyun-jee wasn't always perfect. One topic that often came up during arguments was stepping out of the house. Hyun-jee was naturally more extroverted whereas you preferred the comfort of your home.

You both came up with a plan to alternatively go out and stay in while you both were roommates in college and this practice continued well after Hyun-jee had graduated.

Hyun-jee had dragged you to this upper class, high profile party as her plus one. Her girlfriend was at her parents' home and Hyun-jee simply 'could not go alone or would combust'. Regret at deciding to attend university in Korea was palpable in you (but no where else would you get delicious kimchi).

Beads of sweat clung to your forehead as you surveyed your surroundings. The party was filled with almost-drunk socialites, foreshadowing business deals and gossiping with each other. You rarely attended such events with Hyun-jee; this was her circle, not yours. You always overthought every little interaction that you had with one of them, turning it over in your head millions of times.

Even at such an event taking place at a simple rooftop resto-bar, you spotted the occasional man wearing an entire three piece set and woman rocking an evening gown. You had confirmed with Hyun-jee about what the dress code was multiple times leading up to the event, not ready to lose face in front of such prestigious people. She kept reassuring you that it was 'casual'. Clearly, the upper class' definition of casual and yours were worlds apart.

You were wearing a black, tight crop top, white skirt and white jacket that was currently below your shoulders and in caught in the crook of your elbows. You had already fended off quite a few men approaching you with a look in their eyes which made you quite uncomfortable. Having excused yourself uncountable times using numerous excuses (you had to put use to the skills that you had picked up on as an ambivert), you decided to step out onto the open area to catch some fresh air.

You glanced at the cup in your hand, not knowing where it came from. It definitely looked alcohol though, and you sent a small glare towards the cup while you set it on the first surface that you could fine. You drank sometimes, but today you opted against it. You were going to be driving yourself home and knew that Hyun-jee was going to be wasted, having lost her a few minutes after entering the premises.

You knew that Hyunjin was there too, and were uneasy at the prospect of seeing him again. After the ski lodge, you never really met him again. He had taken you phone number once while he dropped of you and Hyun-jee snowboarding while you were there at their lodge. You both rarely texted, never going beyond the cordial 'happy birthday's' and exchanging wishes during various holidays. He never questioned why you stopped coming to the library, just giving you an understanding nod when you linked arms with Hyun-jee and looked at him with guilt evident in you eyes.

Deciding to ditch whatever the hell this glorified adult frat party, you made your way to the front door when you caught sight of Hyunjin. He sat near the door, scrolling on his phone. He seemed as uninterested to be here as you were. His hair was black now, slightly wavy at the end. You knew that; of course you knew. You followed him on social media and witnessed his hair evolution, praying for his scalp while you did so.

"Hi Hyunjin," you said hesitantly. Hyunjin glanced at you, surprise evident in his face while his eyes scanned yours, "I was just about to head out. I thought I'd stop by and say hello."

"Oh, you're leaving?" he questioned in a tone of confusion laced with something else. Recognition, maybe. "Call me when you get home, so I know you're safe."

He must have noticed you expression of apprehension, because he quickly added, "So I can let Hyun-jee know when we drive home of course. I think she mentioned that we're driving to our parents house tonight."

You aren't shocked by his request, knowing how protective (and worried to death) he can be, but were taken aback at the fact that he did not want nothing to do with you. "I actually wasn't planning on going home," you told him.

At that, it was Hyunjin's turn to wear an expression of surprise. You drank in his features as you noticed the gears twisting in his head. He was thinking hard about something. Deciding that this was his way of dismissing you, you headed towards the door that led to the stairwell that would take you downstairs. Abruptly appearing beside you was Hyunjin, giving you a small tap on your shoulder.

He offered you a small smile. "Mind if I join you?"

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Hyunjin was probably at that party because of his presence in the art world. Something about his art always spoke to you, in ways the no other piece of media ever did. You always proudly reminisced about how Hyunjin showed you artwork that summer that he hadn't ever shown anyone else.

His artwork was capable of moving someone without words. You could nearly feel the emotion pouring out of him and onto his canvas. It was like his paintbrush was just an extension of himself. Everything, from the colours he used to the angle of his brushstrokes were calculated measures, all joining in the most radiant harmony of pure artwork.

After a small discussion of where to go, you both decided that it would be best to catch some fresh air and then proceed to go your separate ways. You both walked a little ways down to an old park.

You were still processing the entire situation, marveling at how on earth you managed to keep your cool the entire walk here. You both didn't say a word while on your way to the park, walking in silence. Hyunjin had his hands jammed into his pockets while you played with the strings of your jacket, curling them in and out.

That was when Hyunjin spotted a playset, smack dab in the middle of the aforementioned park.

"Come on," he squealed excitedly, "Let's go on the swing set."

You couldn't help but let out a burst of laughter. No 'hi' or 'how is life', but suggesting swing set antics instead? Gosh, he was so endearing. You both didn't really talk much, just exchanged giggles as you swung as high up as possible. Finally, after around ten minutes of swinging and one rendition of 'I Believe I Can Fly,' you both finally came down.

A part of you still loved him, didn't it?

It was dark, but you didn't really care. You were with Hyunjin and the area was known to be one of the safer, more-family centric parts of the city you lived in. You sat on the grass, knees brought up to your chest. Your arms wrapped around them while you closed your eyes, a small breeze whipping around you. It was strong enough to keep you cool yet gentle enough to not cause your hair to be similar in nature to that of a tornado.

Hyunjin observed you silently, leaning back on the grass with the help of his forearms. His legs were sprawled in front of him and he broke the silence with a casual, "How's life?"

You suppressed the urge to burst out into laughter. Imagine being asked by one of the hottest men you had ever seen, and had objectively been in love with for the longest, ask you 'how's life'. Adding to that, he was asking you the said question after suggesting that you both swing on a swing set.

"Fine, I guess. I'll be submitting my thesis, hopefully by the end of summer and then receive my doctorate," you replied, ignoring the rapid thumping in your chest.

You were not going to be held captive by a high school crush. You were so much better than that. You hadn't physically seen Hyunjin is over five years. He could have changed completely for all you knew. He could have had a girlfriend (which Hyun-jee would have told you about if that was the case, but you never know), maybe even a wife. And yet, that familiar feeling of wanting curled through your bones, engulfing you.

The two of you started talking about your lives, him as a painter and you as a final year PhD student.

"Hmm," he hummed in contemplation to something you had said, "You know, I always liked your company more then Hyun-jee's. Don't tell her though." He had mischievous look in his eyes and a smirk on his lips, eliciting a laugh from within you and bringing back a memory you had forgotten.

You were still slightly awed by the fact that the Hwang Hyun-jee invited you to spend summer with her. At a ski lodge. A fricking ski lodge! The shocking revelation that you could be considered cool enough to hang out with her and her brother were the thoughts in your head as you stared at the copy of Emma in your hands, pretending to read the text.

Beside you, you could hear the steady scratching of pencil against paper, interrupted only by the symphony of an eraser rubbing against the sheet. This little orchestra playing next to you was evidence of Hyunjin's existence, an art in itself if anyone asked you.

"You should teach me French," he asks you out of the blue, "For when if leave to go to Paris."

You look at him inquisitively. He told you that he got accepted into art school in Paris a few days ago. You did feel sad about the fact that he was going, but deep down you knew very well that practically, after this summer your interactions with Hyunjin would be few and far in between.

"You have Hyun-jee, she can teach you. If, that is, you can put up with her," you retort teasingly.

Hyunjin gives you a sly smirk, "That's exactly why I was asking you. I think I'll like your style of teaching better. And so, I want you to please, please, please teach me French."

You had no idea where this sudden newfound confidence to flirt with Hyunjin had bloomed within you but, oh well, you only live once. "Do you want me teaching you, or just me in general?"

"Ah," he said shaking his head regretfully with a smile, "Even though you have only known me for a few weeks, you already know me too well."

Butterflies ignite in your stomach, although you're pretty sure he was just playing along with you. You wonder what he's sketching, his bottom lip caught between his teeth and his eyes set in concentration. Even though you have a feeling it isn't, you sincerely hope it's you.

You don't know that your hopeful assumption was true.

A tightening in you chest starts to grow when the topic shifts to love. Earlier, talking to Hyunjin about love used to come as easy walking on your two feet. Now, it just hurts. He asked you if you were seeing someone. You promptly replied in the negative. You asked him if he was seeing someone. He reflected your answer back onto you.

But what did it really mean? You were always going to be bound in this life by that unspoken oath you made to Hyun-jee all those years ago. It wasn't even about love anymore, it was about not breaking another person's trust, a person who you held closer to your heart than most of your family.

You started thinking though. What was the point of hiding your feelings, old or not, from Hyunjin any longer? It wasn't like you could act on it, but you may as well have told him. Maybe then a huge weight from your chest would be released and you wouldn't be shackled by commitments, things you felt you owed to both of them.

"I don't think you know this but," your expression suddenly changed, "I used to have the biggest crush on you that summer."

"Used to?" At this point, Hyunjin is sitting up straight, eyeing you curiously. You roll your eyes and give him a playful slap on his arm. His expression, however, turns into one of regret. You begin to feel remorseful about telling him, paranoia settling in and molding itself into the fabric of who you were.

"That's a shame," he says quietly.

The air changes, charged with something you can't quite place. Hyunjin holds eye contact with you, unsaid words coursing through them. You never really believed in the phrase 'the eye is the window to the soul', but right now, you were terrified of whatever the hell your eyes were revealing to him right now. Hyunjin then proceeds to utter something, something so capable of infusing you with poisoned hope, that it takes your breath away.

"I think I would have loved loving you."

Time has stopped. Feelings of desperation, annihilation and most importantly, temptation, cascade in a whirlpool inside you. It had been years. This was wrong. This was the universe dangling temptation in front of you, urging you to just take a bite. Rebelliously, you wondered, what if you were selfish for one? Why were you feeling this way now?

"I think I would have loved being loved by you," you whisper back. Hyunjin's hand laces through yours and gives it a little squeeze in response.

That is when it dawns on you that Hyunjin is as confined in this matter as you, if not more. Hyun-jee is his sister for God's sake; whatever guilt you felt in wanting him, he must have felt tenfold in wanting you. You know exactly what the little squeeze he gave you signifies: It will pass. If it cannot be, it will cease.

And you know it's true because you and Hyunjin can never be 'us' or 'we' as long as you were present in this reality. You wished there was a universe somewhere, a parallel reality when Hyunjin and you were considered of one breath because to breath you would need him like oxygen.

Judging by his expression, he must have been drifting in thought about that too.

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Hyunjin was a hopeless romantic. Everyone he knew was painfully aware of that. He romanticized love in all it's aspects and yearned for it like a prerequisite for living. His standards were obnoxiously high though, and he had never met anyone even close to reaching them.

The thing was, Hyunjin didn't have high standards when it came to a romantic partner. He had high standards in what to expect during a relationship with said partner. Having never been in love himself, he could only witness it through other's experiences.

Until he had met you.

The first time he had seen you, you seemed unremarkable. Not in a rude way, of course, it was just that nothing about you really stood out to him that way. Hyunjin was a firm advocate of 'love at first sight' not being a logical concept. How on earth could you love someone without intertwining the fibers of being that made you with the strands of life that made them?

But then, when you walked into their hauntingly large ski lodge, your face full of wonder, Hyunjin felt an overwhelming calling of entrapping that moment forever. Your expression was so pure that is caught him off guard. He forgot what it was like to see some genuinely enjoy something. That night, he was sitting on his bed sketching something without any clear intention. The end result bore an uncanny resemblance to you.

Soon enough, the two of you began to spend exponentially increasing amounts of time together. Hyunjin was quite introverted, which was in stark contrast to the rest of his family. His mother used to also like spending her time in a lot, but nearly twenty five years of marriage to his father had definitely worn off on her.

The first time you stumbled into the library, you had audibly gasped. Hyunjin peered up, only his eyes visible, the rest of his face covered by the easel. When he saw that it was you, a small smile broke across his face and he sent you a wave, striking up a conversation with you and inviting you to sit down with him.

Hyunjin even knew exactly when realized that he had fallen in love with you. It was around a month into your three month stay with them. You were on the couch, laying down on your belly and Hyunjin was on a bean bag, munching on popcorn. You had a blanket covering you and a book in your hand, but your eyes stayed on Hyunjin as you both talked.

"I have a question," asked Hyunjin in between his mouthful of popcorn.

You rolled over into a position of sitting, legs crossed underneath you. "Before you ask, my interpretation of the meaning of life is pining for Michael B. Jordan against all odds. Blame Hyun-jee for forcing his movies down my throat and coming to me about her daily rants about how he is the only exception to her sexuality and how she would elope with him in a heartbeat."

Hyunjin shook his head with a laugh and passed you the bowl of popcorn. Having been on the receiving end of the conversation one too many times himself, he could quote Michael B. Jordan's monologue from Black Panther nearly perfectly.

"What I actually wanted to ask was whether or not you're happy with what you plan on studying in the future," Hyunjin asked curiously. You always avoided the topic of this, reiterating your love for Science time and again but always talking about how you planned on taking an English course on the side while in university.

At his question, your face fell a little bit. "Oh, well," you said sadly, "Truthfully, not really. But it's what my parents want me to do. I figured that if I did what they wanted me to do, then my sisters could be given a little more freedom at what they wanted to do."

Hyunjin's lips slightly parted, turning over your words in his head. Your selflessness really hit home, especially when he was so extremely selfish. He suddenly felt like he didn't belong to even be in your presence, and yet cherished it nonetheless.

"I have always been so adamant about becoming an artist that I never thought that it could lead to Hyun-jee potentially thinking that she doesn't have an option other than taking over the company," fell Hyunjin's confession from his lips. His eyes swirled with shame.

"If I'm being honest, she might have felt that way initially, but she truly loves the business Hyunjin," you told him comfortingly.

"You're a good person," he whispered to you softly.

"I'm not," you laughed condescendingly, "I'm really not."

Hyunjin's heart broke when those words flew out of your mouth. He wished he saw yourself at the standard that he did. But his heart pieced back together when he realized that he loved you. The realization dawned upon him when it hit him that your laugh, in no matter which context, seemed to lull him like a siren's call and draw him towards.

Later that day, Hyunjin called up seven of his closest friends to lament about his unfortunate predicament. He had all the textbook symptoms: gazing at you when you didn't notice, making up excuses just to be close to you and turning a fire hydrant reminiscent shade or red whenever he was near you (to the point where you would often end enquiring about his health).

"You are down bad in love," declared Changbin over the phone. Hyunjin decided against telling him that he had self-diagnosed himself before seeking anyone else's consul.

Hyunjin wasn't blind either though. He knew you felt something towards and although he couldn't quite pinpoint whether is bordered on love or like, he was quite content with simply knowing. It was extremely evident to him, in the way you began stuttering when he started flirting with you and the blush that would creep up your neck (albeit less pathetically obvious as his) when his fingers would accidentally or otherwise brush against yours.

He knew though, that blushes and wandering eyes was all your relationship ever could be.

He loved you, but by extension he loved his sister more. The night she came home to him, eyes puffy from crying and making him swear that he would never date one of her friends in the occasion that she ever did make a real one.

In that moment, Hyunjin made an oath encased in salty tears and bruised emotions that would haunt him for the rest of his life.

When you stopped coming to the library to squander away your time with Hyunjin, he knew he should have expected it. If you hadn't initiated the distance, then he would have been the one to do so, knowing it to be imperative when Hyun-jee questioned him on the nature of the both of yours's relationship.

He couldn't create anything, however. It was like your presence was what gave him the patience and creativity to actually go through with fishing a piece of art. He was frightened to death at the prospect of never being able to make something again if you weren't there.

Slowly, he realized that that wasn't actually the case. He could still paint, still draw, because he found love and emotions in so many other places.

Hyunjin found love in the way dewdrops beaded flowers, he found love in the cobblestoned alleyways of Paris and in the steaming mug of Americano he would drink every morning. He came to understand that he could pull inspiration from any love, romantic or otherwise.

But all of them paled in comparison to the love he held for you.

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five months before.

You were lounging in Hyun-jee and her girlfriend, Reina's apartment, which was practically your second home. The three of you went to the same university, one of the most prestigious in Seoul, and were quite a formidable trio. Hyun-jee was studying in business school, you were studying bio-chemistry and Reina was a lawyer in the making.

People had a tendency to stay away from the three of you.

You were sitting cross-legged on the floor of their apartment, back resting against the leather couch. Reina was in the shower and Hyun-jee scrolled on her phone. You gazed at the blank wall, completely zoning out from reality.

"Oh," Hyun-jee said with a small smirk, "Hyunjin is coming over."

You tried to hide your surprise and anticipation. Excitement brewed a sickly solution within you as Hyun-jee caught your eye and sent a wink your way, signaling that she would be teasing her brother mercilessly upon his arrival.

Her grin faltered, however, when she her eyes went to her screen which lit up with yet another text message, presumably from Hyunjin.

"Oh. He's bringing a girl."

At that, you jerked your head up to Hyun-jee's, leaving your task of picking at your nails behind. She just gave you a shrug, indicating that she had no idea about any of this either. You studied Hyun-jee's reaction to this carefully. If anything she seemed unfazed.

Jealousy and anger pooled within you. You wished that it was you who Hyunjin was bringing, which was absolutely absurd because you were already in Hyun-jee's apartment. The girl he was bringing would probably be beautiful. At least, far more than you.

In the events that followed leading up to Hyunjin's arrival, you were halfway here and halfway not. Reina had come out of the shower, Hyun-jee had ordered some food, Reina had put on a movie, Hyun-jee had given her a kiss; everything happened around you presently, but you yourself weren't present.

Oh. He's bringing a girl.

You resorted to biting your lip anxiously, drawing blood even. Ah well. Small problems compared to the things people have to face all over the world on the daily. But it should have been duly noted that your small problems felt gigantic to you.

Sighing and attempting to kill time, you decided to be extremely unproductive and watch a romcom. They really did help make up for the lack of romance in your life (as if). Eventually, however, you got bored and instead switched your screen to watch a zombie movie.

You were sitting on one of the three barstools that lined the marble island countertop. Your hands were propped up on your elbows and you had managed to precariously balance your phone against a jar of strawberry jam.

You heard the doorbell ring amidst the screams coming from your earphones. Quickly stuffing away your phone in your pocket in the name of courtesy, you cupped your chin with your hand.

Reina went to open the door and in waltzed Hyunjin in all his glory followed by, yep, only the most drop dead gorgeous woman you had ever seen.

He quickly made introductions, introducing her as Ellie. You avoided Hyunjin's eyes like the plague as you offered her a smile that you hoped looked genuine because it most certainly was not.

Ellie was extremely sweet. She even brought cookies. Ellie laughed and smiled and made herself feel comfortable. You laughed and smiled and contemplated what life would be like in jail if you committed murder.

You couldn't help it. Jealousy came to you in waves inhibiting your sense of everything and clouding your judgement. You hoped the scowl on your face wasn't obvious as you offered to go bring plates for the pizza in an attempt to excuse yourself from the conversation taking place.

"Oppa," nudged Hyun-jee, "Go help her."

Hyunjin stood up and approached you the way one approached a hungry tiger. His smile was warm and inviting but his eyes reflected well deserved caution. He attempted at making conversation with you but you only answered with nods and hums.

Eventually, he just gave up and sat on a bar stool sprinkling seasoning over the freshly delivered pizza. "I'm surprised you got your girlfriend here," you broke the silence, the snark in your voice painfully audible.

"Why?" Hyunjin's eyes trailed up from his tedious task and surveyed you carefully.

"Well, after our conversation that night..."

Irritation flashed in Hyunjin's eyes. "Not all of us can pine over someone we know we can never be with," he huffed.

You blinked for a second, something suspiciously wet prickling the depths of your eyes. What? To him, this might have been just a casual passing comment. To you, this was venom, seeping into your heart and poisoning it.

"Maybe if I didn't have unreasonably high standards of love, I would be better at holding onto it," you rebutted harshly without even thinking about the consequences of what you had said.

Hyunjin's face wore the undeniable expression of shock. In the heat of the moment, you felt almost angry at him. How could he say something so cruel and not expect you to give a befitting reply in return?

Then, the effect of your entire conversation weighed upon you. Gasping at your insolence, you turned around and felt a drop of water slide down the side of your cheek. You wondered if Hyunjin's eyes became a catchment area for tears the way yours did, pushing violently to be let out in a torrent.

Afterwards, you barely spoke to anyone. Quickly eating a slice of the unfortunately delicious pizza, you cited sickness as a reason to not be a present of the lovely and suicidal thought inducing situation you were stuck in.

Making a mental note to ask Hyun-jee where she ordered the pizza from, you headed home, thinking and over thinking your conversation with Hyunjin. The entire scene replayed in your head multiple times but one thought was annoyingly persistent: You went from loving Hyunjin, to somewhat professing said love for him, to giving him very, very good reason to despise you.

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the day of.

Hyun-jee was finally turning a year older and after spending her last six birthdays in the comfort of only you and Reina, this year she was planning a lavish one week beach getaway. All her closest friends were coming which honestly wasn't a lot: just you, Hyunjin, Reina and one of Hyun-jee's cousin's and her boyfriend.

You hoped that tensions would be alleviated between you and Hyunjin considering that you both hadn't communicated a word to each other since the mini argument you both had five months ago. Surprisingly enough, Hyunjin broke up with his girlfriend a few weeks ago, after only a short two months of dating.

You gulped in fear at the thought of you and Hyunjin being the only single people on the trip. Mustering up courage nonetheless, you sat in the taxi that was taking you on the way to the resort lobby where you would meet the others.

Sitting in the car, you decided to try and get some more writing for dissertation done. You already had all your research and citations compiled; all you had to do was type it all up and submit it. Hell, you even had your thoughts in order, but every time you opened up that blank document and watched the cursor blinking at you, all your motivation vanished into thin air.

Not wanting to put yourself through any more torture, you decided to open up your phone and scroll aimlessly through social media. The thought of a beach getaway excited you. After working to death's end for the last few months, you knew you had earned a well deserved break.

When the taxi pulled up to the resort, you got out and closed your eyes at the salty breeze that hit your face. You didn't care that the wind blowing around did not, in fact, make your hair look like it was in a shampoo commercial and instead made it look like the individual strands were having a seizure. The cool air was a welcome contrast to the stuffy interior of the airplane and subsequent taxi you had taken to get here.

You walked into the large reception lobby, trying not to gasp at the sight in front of you. Large potted plants lined the walkway with a humongous fountain of an angel in the middle. Golf carts whizzed around you and servers carrying bottles of champagne and rose offered you kind smiles.

Noticing that Hyun-jee and the other's had just arrived then, you raced up to her, lugging your suitcase behind you. Hyun-jee face lit up as soon as she saw you. Throwing her hands around your neck and pulling you in for a hug, the two of you giggled after she stumbled on a stray pebble. Giving everyone else a warm grins and nods, your eyes met Hyunjin and he offered you a tight smile in acknowledgement.

This was going to be a long week.

Hyun-jee walked up to the receptionist to ask for all of yours's rooms. While she was busy with that, you took out your phone and clicked pictures of everything. You never really posted pictures like these (or any in general), rarely ever active on sites like Instagram unless the occasion called for obsessive internet stalking (which you were questionably amazing at). Instead, you sent all these pictures to your sisters, mostly to make them feel jealous because that was a very older sibling-like thing to do.

Snorting at your youngest sister's almost instantaneous response, which was a string of emojis containing mostly eye-roll emojis, you didn't notice Hyun-jee walk back to the group. You noticed the worried expression on her face, taking in her knitted eyebrows. She had been spending a lot of time sorting out the reservation with the receptionist.

"Guys, I'm really sorry but turns out I forgot to reserve the rooms and I'm so sorry and-"

"Breathe, Hyun-jee," Hyunjin cut her off and placed his hand on her right shoulder.

Hyun-jee took a deep breath, the guilt simmering in her eyes. She sneaked a quick glance at you for reassurance and you notedly obliged, shooting her a thumbs up.

Hyun-jee was nothing short of a perfectionist. Lately, she had been spending literal days at her office, wrapping up an important business deal. Always having everything planned, always knowing the exact details of everything was something she prided herself on.

"So- so here's the thing. I have booked three rooms right now which are on the same floor. Two of them have one bedroom and the third-" Hyun-jee slowly glanced at you and Hyunjin, "And the third is one room but with two beds."

Oh, so then you would still be able to stay here. Perfect. Oh. You would have to share a room with Hyunjin.

Hyun-jee looked at the both of you nervously, gauging your reactions. You hadn't told her about your petty little conversation with Hyunjin and assumed that he hadn't either. His eyes widened with shock and met yours, but a wave of understanding passed through the both of you: you would tolerate it because it was Hyun-jee's birthday and she was the priority here.

"Is that okay?" Hyun-jee stuttered softly.

Reina had walked over to Hyun-jee and wrapped her arms around her waist. Hyun-jee's cousin, Byeol, assured her that the arrangement was just fine.

Not wanting to worry Hyun-jee further, Hyunjin hastily replied, "Yes, yes, of course."

You spared him a glance before your eyes went to Hyun-jee's once again, and with a smile you hoped did not look stressed, you added on, "Yep. I mean, it's just a week, isn't it?"

Hyun-jee let out a sigh of relief and reached out to give your hand a squeeze. Absentmindedly, you gave her a distracted smile. Your mind was on other things, Hwang Hyunjin and the prospect of sharing a room with him at the forefront of your long train of thought.

It would be fine, right? After all, there were two beds. And as absurd as the entire situation was, you had read enough romcoms and watched enough Hallmark movies to know that the real problems only began when there was just one bed. Which there wasn't. Unfortunately.

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Hyunjin had graciously offered you to take a shower first. Stripping bare, you felt the lukewarm water hit your skin as you went through the itinerary of the day ahead in your brain again.

1: Lunch at a cute rooftop restaurant that Hyun-jee had (for real this time), reserved.

2: Coming back to the resort get changed into your bathing suits.

3: Fulfilling the 'beach' part of the beach getaway.

4: Sleep, maybe.

5: Bonfire dinner!

You came out of the shower wearing tank tops and jeans shorts, a wet towel in your hand. Hyunjin strewn was on his bed (closer to the door), texting someone, or in his case, multiple someones. You assumed it was a group chat because the screen lit up with a notification numerous times.

The sight of Hyunjin biting his lip to stop himself from bursting out in laughter while wearing nothing but (at least you assumed it was nothing) a bathrobe did things to you that most definitely should not have been done.

For the sake of your sanity, you cleared you throat as a sign of banishing Hyunjin to the shower. He gave you a nod, grabbed his towel, and walked away. You let out a sigh and after hanging your towel on the balcony railing, dramatically fell onto your bed.

Hyunjin hadn't really told you much after you both entered the room. He only offered to let you shower first. You were brushing your hair and humming in partial contentment. You had resulted against washing your hair, knowing you would wash it again after coming back from the beach.

You're Taylor Swift album marathon was rudely, in you humble opinion, interrupted by the sound of a door opening. You were met, however, with an ethereal looking Hwang Hyunjin, fresh out of a shower. Beads of water hung to his neck and the tips of his hair. You were overcoming by an extremely concerning urge to lick them off.

Although Hyunjin was currently very aggressively wiping his hair with his towel, he had a smirk on his face, an obvious indication of him noticing you checking out. You looked away with a cough and a blush. Hyunjin fell onto his bed with an oomf and laid on his back while playing games on his phone.

You decided to break the ice wall erected between the two of you by blurting out, "I'm sorry for what I said that night. You didn't deserve to here any of that."

Hyunjin looked up from his phone in surprise. He studied you for a moment. Hyunjin finally broke the agonizing silence. "Likewise. I genuinely apologize for anything I may have said that night," he hesitated, "Does this mean that we can go back to normal?"

You gave him a small smile and a nod, although you knew just as well as him that there was no 'we' to go back to normal too.

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All throughout lunch, you failed at acknowledging the close proximity between you and Hyunjin. He sat next to you because, who was he to sit with somebody else's significant other? His thigh was pressed against yours and his fingers brushed yours over and over again.

"So, um, I heard about your breakup. How have you been holding up?" you asked. You wanted a gauge on how depressing your de facto roommate would act over the week.

"Oh," he responded nonchalantly, "I never really saw it as a relationship. We just weren't compatible at all."

Your brain processed his words as your eyes trailed the plate of seafood kebabs being brought to your table. You were in the process of eating one when Hyunjin added, "I think I might actually like someone else, and I'm not one for emotional cheating."

It's safe to say that the hot sauce you dipped the kebab in went down the wrong pipe.

After that tantalizingly long endeavor you had just undertaken, you were back in the comfort of your hotel room. You and Hyunjin decided that you would change in the bathroom while he would change in the actual room itself.

You had absolutely no intention of actually getting into the ocean water. It was getting late (yes, you considered three in the afternoon late) and you were not a big fan of swimming, despite having learnt it when you were younger. Your outfit was extremely simple, consisting of a sage green crop top, white long flowy skirt, a pair of sandals and finally a cute tote bag to store your camera, books and other essentials.

Stepping out of the bathroom, you did a little twirl to check if the skirt was spin worthy. Hyunjin watched you with a smile and give you a small clap after you were done. You blushed profusely, his existence somehow (?!) completely slipping from your mind.

"You look beautiful," said Hyunjin kindly with a wide smile.

"So do you," you replied breathlessly.

Hyunjin looked effortlessly attractive in a white button up that was half untucked and loose black pants. The first button was undone and you could see a shark bone necklace perfect encapsulated in the dip of his collarbone.

You were imagining how it would feel to run your fingers along it when Hyunjin asked, "Don't plan on swimming? I know I don't."

"Nope," you replied sheepishly as you both walked out the hotel door, "I actually have a fear of the ocean, as embarrassing as it sounds."

"It isn't embarrassing. I get nightmares about carrots," Hyunjin confessed with a shudder. You snickered at his words.

Hyunjin's hand lightly held your arm and guided you towards the right direction. The feel of his skin on yours completely wiped away your initial mortification at walking in the completely opposite direction.

He dropped your arm as spontaneously as he held it and you both stood awkwardly in the lobby, waiting for Hyun-jee and Reina. Byeol wasn't feeling well (she could come up with a better excuse) so her and her boyfriend went ahead with the decision of staying in.

The four of you walked out the resort in animated chatter. Being more of a listener yourself, you took a backseat as Hyunjin and Hyun-jee wildly gesticulated about work, life and (for some reason) the benefits of chocolate milk. Reina passed you a knowing smile; the two siblings once brought together could not shut up for the life of them.

You noticed Hyun-jee hanging back. She waited for you to catch up to her and said, "I'm sorry about the arrangement. It can't be easy for you."

You looked at her questioningly, "Why wouldn't it be easy?"

"Well, you both don't really know each other that well. To top it all off, Hyune oppa stopped seeing that Ellie girl. He hasn't been moping around much, probably because it only lasted like a month."

Hyun-jee paused and continued in a whisper, "I think she was more into him than he was into her."

You just laugh with a shake of your head and run up to Reina, throwing an arm around her shoulder. Through the corner of your eye, you see Hyunjin observing the three of you with a sad smile. You instantly feel guilt at leaving him out, even though the three of you were close friends long before Hyunjin came into the picture.

When you finally reach the beach, everyone settles into their designated role. Reina and Hyun-jee play volleyball with a bunch of locals while you and Hyunjin retreated under a covered cabana. Hyunjin sat on one side of it, sketching on his sketch pad, while you laid down on the other side, indulging in a mystery thriller.

Old habits really do die hard.

You turned to look at Hyunjin. The expression of concentration on his face was still the same. His hair was longer now though, and locks of it fell into his eyes. You felt the urge to push it away and subconsciously, ended up doing so.

He looked up at you. "Oh, um, your hair, I-" you stammered incoherently.

Hyunjin let out a chuckle. "It's fine. Thank you."

He turned back to his unfinished sketch and you put your book back in your tote bag. Wanting to stretch your legs, you noticed a dock like structure stretching out over the vast expanse of sea. Hyun-jee beckoned you towards her and the two of you set off to take pictures near that dock.

It felt slippery, at first, but eventually, you and Hyun-jee caught your balance. The farther out you went, the deeper was the ocean. The colors all blended to create beautiful hues of blue. They eerily mimicked the same hues that you currently were living in.

Hyun-jee's arms were full of shells, multicolored and all shaped differently. You both were so engrossed in picking at them that you didn't notice that you almost reached the end of the dock. Your sandal got caught on one of the stray nails.

And then you slipped.

And then you fell.

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Funnily enough, the only thought in your mind while you were falling was how the whistling of the wind sounded like that of a tea kettle. You had only heard the sound of a tea kettle once before, at your grandmother's house. Your mom decided to take out the old blue kettle that laid forgotten under the stove and decided to whip up some chamomile tea with it.

What an odd thing to reminisce about.

After what felt like hours, your body hit the water. The screams you were initially hearing were now muffled. Water attacked you, dragging you downwards. You did learn how to swim, but your body felt like it was made up of bricks and lead, not skin and bones.

Instinctively, you closed your eyes and tried to throw your hands up. In an attempt to get an intake of breath, you opened your mouth. What a stupid mistake. Seawater and other substances flooded into your mouth. Bile rose up but you couldn't close your mouth. When you finally could, you were compelled to close it.

You felt your brain separate from your body, as if you were just watching what was happening and weren't present in the situation. All sense of time was gone. You had never felt more helpless and locked out of your body before. Tears streamed down your face, but it didn't matter because all of you was drenched anyways.

You felt your consciousness slip, and felt a peculiar serenity that you had never felt before. You were floating out of your body now, your mind keenly observing the vessel that was once you, flailing about like a fish out of water.

How ironic.

People said that drowning was the worst way to die.

Wait, what? What were you even thinking?

You were dying.

No. No, you couldn't die. There was so much left for you to see, to experience. You wanted a stable job, a family. You wanted to taste what a snickerdoodle cookie was like and wanted to see Olivia Rodrigo in concert. But most of all, you wanted to live.

Life was so beautiful. All the dips and highs and small straight lines made it an endless rollercoaster, yes, but it was a ride you were not ready to get off yet. If you lived after this, you told yourself, you would be selfish and do what you wanted.

You wanted to submit your thesis and and stand on that podium, certificate in hand. You wanted to go on a date with Hyunjin and did not care about whoever objected otherwise. You wanted to be Hyun-jee's bridesmaid when she and Reina got married in San Diego. You wanted to tell your parents you loved them and wanted to watch your sisters grow up.

You wanted, and wanted, and wanted and that was enough to keep you some kind of awake and alert.

You felt a pair of arms around your waist and another hoisting you up. Concerned chatter and sighs of relief were sounds that managed to seep through the thrumming in your ears. Opening your eyes and letting it adjust to the light, you collapsed onto the dock. You threw up whatever was inside of you, feeling someone patting your back.

Somebody helped you stand up, since you were still shaken up by the whole incident. You could see a small crowd on the actual beach and a drenched Reina in front of you. Hyunjin must have been the one holding you up then.

Hyun-jee face was frozen in shock, eyes still glued to the place where you had fallen. When she finally looked up at you, she let out a choked sob, and eventually a torrent of tears fell from her eyes. Watching her cry made you cry, as you were gently tugged back to the beach by Hyunjin.

He sat you down on the edge of the cabana you both had occupied earlier. A lifeguard was rushing over to you, checking vitals and making sure you weren't having any problems with your breath. After you felt like you were in a sober state capable to answer questions, you rattled off responses in a monotonous tone.

"Considering she was in the water for just under a minute," confirmed the lifeguard, "She should be fine."

Worry was still etched on everyone's faces though, frustrating you. You were not okay, and you knew that. Not being okay after such an incident was to be expected of you. But you were not okay in a way that couldn't be helped by them. You had no such severe physical injuries or major repercussions; but mentally?

You weren't quite sure your mind was even yours.

You assured everyone that you were okay over and over again. Hyunjin grabbed a blanket from a kind family also on vacation, offering you some water and hydrated salts as well. After thanking them profusely, you stumbled into the taxi that Hyun-jee had booked. While Hyun-jee and Reina stayed behind to file formalities with the local authorities, Hyunjin volunteered to take you back to the hotel room.

The entire sequences of events left you so dazed, that you couldn't even process what was happening. Sitting in the taxi and reflecting on what happened finally allowed the physical effects of almost drowning to settle deep into your bones.

It started with the shivering, your body uncontrollably shaking. You could feel someone's arms - Hyunjin's - wrap around you and start rubbing your sides. Then came to coughing, your throat parched and desperate for water. Through it all though, your mind stayed fixed at one point.

There was a light. And peace. So much peace it felt nearly unnatural.

You began sobbing. Your head was throbbing and the entire world felt dizzy. Hot tears streamed down your face. You could feel some rubbing circles on your back, hear someone comforting you. But you weren't present in the situation itself. Words blended into white noise and everything hurt.

The entire time, from Hyunjin helping you out of the car to Hyun-jee clearing the way to your hotel room, your brain was on autopilot. It wasn't that you were thinking about something else; you just couldn't think. You wanted silence and quiet.

As soon as Hyunjin closed the door, you slumped against it, dragging Hyunjin down with you. You entire body was still covered in water, but you didn't care. You couldn't even take in complete breaths; the lack of dryness on your skin didn't even occur to you.

Hyunjin put his chin on your head and whispered, "Just breathe. It'll all be over soon."

As your breathing and heart rate slowed, you became distinctly aware of the fact that you were currently covered in dirty water and the pee of aquatic animals. Breaking away from Hyunjin's comforting hold, you let out an incoherent string of words, grabbed the first pair of pajamas you could find, and staggered into the bathroom.

Throwing off your clothes with a newfound urgency to feel dry and clean, you stepped into the shower and let out a tired sigh as soon as the hot droplets hit you repeatedly. It was a startling contrast to the unchanging sensation of cold you were locked in for the past thirty minutes (at least that was what you assumed it was, considering your knowledge of time itself was currently fucked). Feeling your muscles loosening underneath you, you made the blunder of closing you eyes.

As soon as you did, the water now sliding down your naked skin felt all too similar to the water that nearly took your life.

You were drowning again, literally in water and figuratively in despair. You reached out for help, screamed until your voice went hoarse. The light was coming for you, luminescent orbs turning into menacing vessels of death. But nobody came. And the terrifying reality was, nobody would.

Tripping over the shower cubicle, you lunged for your towel and scrubbed your skin until it was red and raw. Even a single drop of water felt like acid on your skin. In you haste to put on your clothes, you forgot to turn the shower on. Mustering your courage, you reached to turn the knob and made sure that no part of your body contacted anything other than a dry surface.

When you teetered over the elevated surface of the bathroom an soon as you opened the door, Hyunjin was already there to steady you.

"I'll dry your hair," he offered.

You nodded, still mum, and sat down on Hyunjin's bed. You noticed that he had changed into a white cotton shirt and gray sweatpants. Hyunjin leaned over to plug in the hairdryer. Coaxing you into turning around, his hands wove through your hair and nearly rocked you to sleep.

"Hyunjin," you whispered deliriously, "I feel safe in your arms."

You must have been really tired because you completely missed his response.

"And I feel safe knowing you are in my arms."

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After Hyunjin had dried your hair, he helped you onto your bed. You had fallen asleep due to the sheer weight of your exhaustion. Hyunjin promised that he would be in the room, not leaving for a second. Your eyes shut and you slept for almost four hours.

When you woke up, it was late. The sky was no longer colored light blue, but instead shone a dark navy. You turned over your phone on the nightstand.

9:00 PM

"Hyun-jee came over," Hyunjin said.

You turned around to see him watching a drama on his phone. His hair was tussled, as if he had run his hands through it repeatedly. His eyes looked tired and his body looked weary but his smile was like a peek of sunlight on an unreasonably cloudy day.

"She left some noodles for you," he motioned towards the large Styrofoam box on the little coffee table in your room.

You snatched up and hungrily began eating. "Thanks," you said between mouthfuls.

"No problem. You should be thanking Hyun-jee."

"I will."

"Do you want to watch something?"

"Okay."

Hyunjin started a new drama for the both of you to watch. The only sounds in the room were noises from his laptop and your slow chewing. You were grateful that Hyunjin didn't press whenever you replied half heartedly or with one word.

It was such a paradoxical situation, the one you were stuck in. A mere ten hours ago, the thought of him being in close proximity almost drew you to insanity. Now, his steady presence was the only thing keeping you grounded.

Fate truly is fickle.

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You woke up from your slumber with a start, sweat soaking through your clothes and onto your bedsheets. You were breathing heavily, so much that your lungs were hurting. Beside you, you could hear Hyunjin stirring in his sleep.

You chest was constricted and your breathing was shallowed. Ugly tears inched slowly, down your cheeks. Your hands were shaking and your vision was blurry.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm here now."

"I'm fine, I'm fine," you whispered to Hyunjin in the darkness.

"No," he said firmly, "You clearly aren't. Let me help you. Please."

You gave him a nod, which he probably didn't see in the darkness. Leaning over to turn on the table lamp nestled between the two beds, with a small click, the entire room was eliminated.

"Nightmare?"

"Yes. Sorry for disturbing you."

"Don't be."

Hyunjin started humming something into your hair, making you feel drowsy. Sleep was coming in waves, but you refused to close your eyes. Fighting to keep them open, you tried to place why whatever Hyunjin was humming sounded so familiar. Finally, you realized it.

"Oh my god," you snorted, "Are you humming the Sofia the First theme song right now?"

"Shh," he giggled, "Let me honor Sofia in peace."

You nestled into him more comfortable and felt his head fall onto yours. Slowly, he pulled you down onto the bed.

"Do you mind is I sleep?" he questioned.

"No," you replied, "Just please keep holding me."

He placed a soft kiss on your cheek in response and comfortably placed his head on the crook of your neck. Soon enough, melodious snores (how do even his snores sound attractive?) filled the silence in the room. You could do this forever.

Oh. You could do this forever.

But you didn't have forever. What you had was tantalizingly short in the grand scheme of things. And nearly dying had really put things into perspective. You might not have forever, but you have now. And ideally, now was all you needed.

But what would Hyun-jee think?

Except, did it really matter what she thought? She was your best friend, she had seen pieces of you that you hadn't shown anyone. If anybody would understand, it would be Hyun-jee. You began to question yourself. Was it really Hyun-jee you were scared of, or something else entirely?

Putting the blame on Hyun-jee for stopping yourself from pursuing Hyunjin was so easy. The truth was, you were frightened. Hyun-jee's opinion had nothing to do with it whatsoever.

You were so scared of the consequences after the falling apart of a relationship, that you were hesitant to be in one in the first place. The prospect of heartbreak and it's accompanying nastiness petrified you to the point where you were blind to the beauty of being in a relationship.

Your situation was pathetic really. You were pathetic. It wasn't even a paradoxical situation of unrequited love where you were hopelessly head over heels in love with Hyunjin and he couldn't have cared otherwise. He liked you back, at one point, may even have loved you back.

After tossing and turning, you finally came to one decision you were determined to go through with.

That night, you didn't sleep for two reasons: fear of drowning in the ocean and anticipation to drown in Hyun-jee's.

"Good morning angel," he yawned, "Did you get any sleep?"

"No," you gulped.

"Well that's to bad," he mumbled against you neck.

His hair tickled your face and you began second guessing whether or not you should really do this. Hyunjin blinked once, slowly, as if taking in his surroundings. When he probably realized where he was, he got up with a start.

"Shit, I had no idea I was this close to you. I'm really sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable and-"

"I like you," you blurted out. "I like you and I want to date you. I know you like me as well and I love Hyun-jee, but I want to experience loving you."

You looked down shyly as Hyunjin's jaw dropped. He cupped his hand around your cheeks and replied breathlessly, "Oh thank goodness. I would kiss you but you just survived a traumatic event and my breath probably stinks."

You opened you mouth to respond but ended up yawning instead. Hyunjin visibly held back his laughter and you playfully hit his arm.

You gave him a side-eye and he pulled you back into bed again, tickling you in the process. You shoved him and he laughed at you and by the end of it, you were so out of breath and so happy, that a part of you forgot that you very well may not have been here today.

You didn't have forever, but you had Hyunjin and that was enough.

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epilogue.

You put your bags down on the wooden floor with an animated 'oof!' while you once again took in the grandeur of the Hwang family ski lodge. You were back again, invited (this time by Hyunjin) to spend the summer with the Hwangs.

Everything was coming full circle, wasn't it?

Hyunjin's mother approached you with a smile on her face. She pulled you in for a tight hug, her perfume attacking your senses.

"How have you been, my child?" Her hair was pinned up to perfection and her skin was flawless.

"Really good," you told her excitedly, filling her in on all the gossip that was taking place at your university.

She listened to you keenly and once you finished, she told you, "Oh, Hyunjin is in his room, by the way."

She shot you a wink and you felt like you would melt out of embarrassment.

"I didn't know he told you," you said sheepishly.

"He didn't have to," his mother laughed.

Mothers. Their powers were strong enough to make the childhood version of you believe they were psychic.

You bounded up the familiar stairs to Hyunjin's room. Not bothering to knock (what's the worst he could be? naked?), you rushed inside and fell dramatically onto his bed. Hyunjin regarded you with a hint of fear at you sudden entrance.

Turning over on your stomach to face him, you announced with an air of superiority, "I did it."

That could only mean one thing in this context.

Hyunjin's eyes widened. "You did it? You submitted your dissertation?" he asked in awe.

You nodded enthusiastically and brought your face close to his. "I'm yours for the next three months now."

Hyunjin pouted, "I thought you already were mine."

You rolled your eyes at him and pulled him in for a long awaited kiss. It was to no avail however; you both were smiling against each other's lips so much that it wasn't quite a kiss.

Breaking away, you were about to settle in next to Hyunjin when you told him, "It feels weird though. Not having to do anything. Does that make sense?"

"If you say it, it makes sense. And if I happen to think it does not, I will attempt to look at it from your perspective. Regardless of either situation though, I will accept it because I love you, and that to me is what love is. Unwavering dedication and acceptance," Hyunjin replied with ease.

You felt your heart stutter. He was the first to say he loved you, two weeks ago under a dimly lit bookstore you were in. Hyunjin was said he knew the moment you gave him a smile and he realized, it was a smile you only presented in front of him.

"I love you too, dork," you said cheekily.

Hyunjin had shown you shades of love that you could never escape from. Every little action of his encompassed love. From the small smiles he always sent your way to the way he tucked your hair behind your ear and always carried extra rubber bands for you, Hyunjin was love personified

"I'm here!" came the unmistakable voice of Hyun-jee.

You and Hyunjin exchanged a glance. You had decided that it would be best to tell Hyun-jee about the relationship as soon as possible. Hiding your relationship from her for three months seemed like a mammoth endeavor.

After finding Hyun-jee wolfing down cookies in the kitchen and giving her a customary bear hug, you gave her a nervous laugh.

"Wosh? You bosh look like you neesh to chell me shomething."

"Ew," whined Hyunjin, "Chew first."

Hyun-jee swallowed and said, "You both look like you're hiding something from me. You didn't break something I own, right?"

"Actually," you hesitated and Hyunjin gave you a small nod of encouragement, "We did have to tell you something. Hyunjin and I... we have been dating for the last two, two and a half months."

You let out a slow breath, gauging Hyun-jee's reaction. Her eyes widened and her eyebrows knitted. You could see her visibly tensing and take in a shallow intake of breath.

Shock slowly settled into Hyun-jee's features. "How long?"

"Well technically since we were eighteen, but we were scared of your reaction and-" you gave Hyunjin a small kick to his shin. He ruffled your hair back.

"So, you are telling me that you both have liked each other for that long but decided not to do anything about it because you were scared of me?" Hyun-jee marvelled.

"Well, yes-"

"Oh my god," Hyun-jee laughed, "You both are so dense. Do you know how much I have been rooting for this relationship? Hell, I even booked one room for the two of you as soon as I realized that I forgot."

"You did that on purpose?" you were reeling from the revelation.

All of your belief that you would have to choose between friendship of love came crashing down. Relief washed over you and a sob that was lodged in your throat finally found release.

Hyun-jee and you went back and forth until Hyunjin finally put an end to the conversation. "These," he declared picking up the tin of cookies that Hyun-jee was previously snacking on, "Are mine."

He proceeded to run out of the kitchen as Hyun-jee chased him with a spatula, screaming bloody murder. After the siblings finally calmed down, all three of you collapsed onto the large couch in the middle of the lounge. Looking at your friends, your family, made you realize that you were loved.

Maybe, falling in love wasn't so bad. Yes, you fell. You fell hard and soft, you fell with your hands bloodied and the sensation of flying. You fell, but Hyunjin was there to catch you. And as he assured you over and over again, he would always be there to catch you.

Hyunjin laced his hands through yours and gave it a squeeze. This time, it was a promise. A promise of whatever eternity you both had left that would be spent together. A promise to love through the light and the dark.

A promise to be each other's first and last loves.

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