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shy9-29 · 29 days ago

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Where The Waves Rest 🌊 l.hs

"Love isnt about the rush-it's about the quiet moments that make you stay"

日 - 이희승 x y/n

♫ synopsis: Heeseung, a reckless city boy, moves to quiet Busan and meets you-kind and selfless. What begins as annoyance turns into something deeper, and he realizes Busan isn't just a place but where he finds something real with you ~ wc. 29.9k ✉️ warning: fingering, swearing, bullying, mentions of drinking, partying, hooking up, cumming inside, oral f recieve, kiss, name calling, begging, Seoul and Busan are not actually like what is described in the story.

mdni · smut · proofread · masterlist

Heeseung was never one to stick to plans—especially when they didn’t suit him. At 23, spoiled and used to getting his way, he had fully intended to meet his family that evening. But as the night went on, the thought slipped further from his mind, drowned out by the buzz of alcohol and the thrill of the moment.

One drink turned into two, then three, and before he knew it, he was inviting friends over. What was supposed to be a quiet night quickly spiraled into a full-blown party. Music blasted through the apartment, laughter echoed off the walls, and people—some familiar, some not—kept piling in. A few girls arrived too, making the atmosphere even wilder.

His family? They’d get over it. They always did. Right now, all Heeseung cared about was keeping the night going.

“Fuck, feels so good,” Heeseung groaned softly, sprawled out on the couch as one of his hook ups grinds slowly on his hardening member. The sounds of partying and laugher fill the room. The girl throws her head back as she grips onto Heeseung’s shoulders tightly, quickening the pace.

He was so drunk right now as he leaned his head back, placing it on the couch as he looked at everyone dancing or making out in his apartment. He was sitting on the couch, eyes lazily looking at everyone and everything. His eyes were half-lidded, his cheeks was flushed, his lips was dry and chapped from drinking. He was sitting there, a girl on his lap, and his eyes caught a girl sitting somewhere far away.

The girl on his lap leaned in, pressing her lips against his. Heeseung didn’t hesitate to kiss her back, his eyes slipping shut as his movements grew rougher. His grip tightened around her waist, adjusting her position on his lap as he deepened the kiss.

“So, what’s your name?” she asked with a smirk, tilting her head to press soft kisses against Heeseung’s neck. He shivered slightly, feeling her warm breath ghost over his skin. His hands was on her thighs, his head was tilted to the side as he waited for her response. His eyes were dark as he looked at her, studying her from head to toe, focusing on her face.

But before she could answer, the door suddenly swung open, and Heeseung’s parents walked in. He froze. Shoot, he completely forgot.

His parents had known about his issues before, but they thought he had gotten over it. At least, that’s what he’d told them. The tension in the room thickened as they stood there, eyes widening in disbelief.

Heeseung’s heart sank as his parents stepped into the room, their faces a mix of shock and disbelief. His mother’s eyes widened, her disappointment cutting deeper than anything he’d ever felt. His father’s jaw clenched, his usually calm demeanor completely shattered as he took in the scene before him. They had been waiting for this moment—hoping for a sign of change, a chance to reconnect. But this? This wasn’t what they expected.

“You…” His mother’s voice trembled, and she couldn’t finish the sentence. Her eyes flickered between Heeseung’s face, the girl beside him, and then back to him, as if trying to make sense of what she was seeing.

His father, usually the one to stay composed, stood at the door, glaring at Heeseung with a mix of anger and heartbreak. “You told us you were done with all this,” he said, his voice tight with frustration. “You promised, Heeseung. You promised.”

Heeseung remained silent, the weight of their words pressing down on him. His mind raced. He’d been hiding this for months—the late-night parties, the drinks, the temporary escapes, everything. They never knew. They didn’t see the darker side of him anymore—he’d kept it hidden, convincing them he’d changed. But now? There was no pretending.

His mother wiped away a tear, trying to hold herself together. “We thought you were trying to make something of yourself. But now… this?”

Heeseung’s hands clenched into fists at his sides, his knuckles white. Anger surged through him, but beneath it, there was a deep, gnawing feeling of shame. They didn’t understand; they never did. They only saw the mask he wore.

“This has gone on long enough, Heeseung,” his father continued, his voice no longer calm. “We’ve decided. You’re going to Busan for the summer. To your grandmas.”

The words hit him like a slap to the face. Busan. The last place he wanted to go. It was everything Seoul wasn’t—quiet, peaceful, and far too simple. There was nothing to do but breathe clean air, to feel trapped in a place that lacked the chaos and freedom of the city. It was nothing like the fast-paced life he thrived in. No parties. No wild nights. Just silence and space. He couldn’t even imagine it.

“No,” Heeseung growled, his voice low with defiance. “I’m not going. I don’t need to—”

His father cut him off with a sharp look, his eyes cold and unwavering. “If you don’t go, you’ll lose everything, Heeseung. Everything. No more money, no more access. No more parties, no more friends. You want to keep living like this? Fine. But we won’t be a part of it. You’ll go to Busan, and you’ll stay there until this attitude of yours changes.”

The threat was clear, hanging in the air like a weight. Heeseung knew what it meant. Without their support, he wouldn’t be able to keep up with the reckless lifestyle he’d come to rely on. The parties, the clubs, the escape—it would all be gone.

His mind raced. He hated the thought of going to Busan, the last place he wanted to be. But what other choice did he have? His pride burned, but the reality of it all was undeniable. If he didn’t go, he’d lose everything.

“You can’t fucking do this to me,” Heeseung spat, but his voice lacked the force it needed. His eyes flicked to the girl sitting beside him, her presence a brief distraction from the storm of thoughts raging in his mind.

“You will go, Heeseung,” his mother said quietly, almost pleading. “We’re doing this because we love you. But if you keep going down this path, you’ll destroy yourself.”

Heeseung swallowed hard, the sting of their words hitting him in the chest. He didn’t know how to fight back. They had already made up their minds. Busan it was.

He felt trapped, his world closing in around him. He had no choice. The anger still bubbled inside him, but it was mixed with something darker—fear. Fear of losing everything. Fear of being stuck in a life he didn’t want.

He gritted his teeth. “Fine. I’ll go. But don’t expect me to change in that shit hole.”

As Heeseung’s words hung in the air, the entire room seemed to still, as if time itself had frozen. The girl sitting beside him, who had been so bold and confident moments before, suddenly seemed distant, her eyes flicking nervously toward the door where Heeseung’s parents stood. The music from the party had faded into the background, and the murmur of conversation turned to silence as everyone in the room, sensing the tension, fell still.

The laughter that had filled the room moments before seemed to vanish, leaving a heavy, uncomfortable quiet in its place. The glow of neon lights from the party didn’t seem so bright now. The laughter and the upbeat energy felt hollow, as if the very vibe of the room had shifted, the weight of Heeseung’s situation pressing down on everyone.

Some of the people near the back of the room exchanged uneasy glances, unsure whether they should even breathe, while others stood frozen, unsure of what to do in the presence of such an awkward confrontation.

Heeseung could feel the eyes of everyone on him—eyes that had once looked up to him as the life of the party, the one who had everything under control. Now, those same eyes only saw a boy being torn apart by the reality he had tried to avoid for so long. The walls seemed to close in around him as the quiet stretched on, and even the pulsing beat of the music couldn’t seem to fill the silence that hung thick in the air.

His parents stood in the doorway, their disappointment palpable, as though they had pulled back the curtain to reveal the truth he had been hiding for so long. And now, it was too late. There was no escaping it.

The girl beside him had been a part of his world, the world he was about to lose, and she could sense it. Heeseung’s heart sank as he realized the gravity of the situation—not just with his parents, but with everyone else in that room.

The weight of their collective gaze pressed into him, and for a brief moment, Heeseung wondered if he was ready to face what was about to come.

Heeseung’s fist clenched involuntarily, his chest tightening with frustration as the room stayed locked in silence. The realization that everyone was watching him—their eyes filled with judgment, curiosity, or just plain discomfort—made him want to scream. Instead, he stood up abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. The sound snapped the spell of silence, but it didn’t seem to break the tension.

“Get out,” Heeseung’s voice was cold, his words cutting through the stillness like a knife. His gaze swept over the partygoers, most of whom looked caught off guard but didn’t dare to challenge him. He wasn’t in the mood to entertain anyone’s doubts or protests, and his patience was wearing thin. “I said, get out. Now.”

A few people hesitated, exchanging glances, but the commanding tone in Heeseung’s voice brooked no argument. Slowly, the guests started to shuffle toward the door, murmuring to one another as they gathered their coats, their drinks, and their things. The hum of the room was replaced by the soft shuffle of feet on the hardwood floor, the clinking of glass, and the quiet rustling of bags. Heeseung’s eyes remained fixed on the floor, not bothering to look up until the last person made their exit.

As the door clicked shut behind the final guest, the room felt eerily quiet. Heeseung ran a hand through his messy hair, a frustrated sigh slipping from his lips. His mind was buzzing—flooded with anger, guilt, and the overwhelming sense of dread.

He looked around the room, his eyes taking in the mess that had been left behind. Empty cups, spilled drinks, scattered confetti, half-eaten snacks, and crushed cigarette butts were strewn everywhere. The room had now had a grim sort of emptiness. His gaze lingered on the overturned bottle of liquor by the couch and the wine glass that had rolled to the far corner of the room. The remnants of the night felt like a mockery now—a reminder of everything he was about to lose.

With another heavy sigh, Heeseung stepped over the mess, his footsteps slow and deliberate as he made his way to the couch, sinking into the cushions. The weight of the situation pressed on him, heavier than the mess in the room. He ran his hand over his face, trying to force the thoughts away, but they only kept coming—his parents, the move to Busan, the future he didn’t want, the life he was being dragged away from.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was slipping through his fingers, one decision at a time. He wanted to scream. He wanted to punch something. But instead, he just sat there, surrounded by the remnants of his party, the remnants of a life he would never get back.

The sharp knock on Heeseung’s door tore through the hazy fog of sleep, his head throbbing in protest. His eyes fluttered open, the sunlight already streaming through the cracks in the curtains, searing into his skull like a punishment. He groaned, pressing his hands into his temples, trying to stave off the relentless throb. He wasn’t used to waking up this early—hell, he rarely woke up before noon—and certainly not with the pounding headache he had from last night’s excesses.

Another knock, louder this time.

“Heeseung, sir,” came the muffled voice of his butler, Mr. Song, from the other side of the door. “It’s seven o’clock. Your parents are waiting for you to pack. There’s an Uber waiting downstairs to take you to the airport.”

Heeseung groaned, his voice muffled as he rolled over in bed, throwing his pillow over his head in a vain attempt to block out the noise. The weight of last night’s events still hung heavy on him, his thoughts tangled in a chaotic mess. The last thing he wanted to do right now was get up, pack, and face the reality of his parents’ decision. He had expected some kind of pushback, maybe even a day or two of recovery time before the move—but no, they were already moving him out, right now.

“I told you, Mr. Song, it’s too early,” Heeseung muttered, his words slurred from the hangover. He rubbed his face, trying to fight off the dizziness that still clung to him. “Just… give me a few more hours.”

But there was no room for negotiation. The butler’s voice was firm, but still polite. “I’m afraid your parents insist, sir. The Uber is waiting.”

Heeseung swore under his breath. He felt the sharp sting of anger rise in his chest. His parents didn’t even care how he was feeling, how much of a mess he was right now. He wasn’t even sure how he’d function in an hour, let alone pack up his life and head to some backwater town in the middle of nowhere.

With a reluctant groan, Heeseung threw the covers off and staggered out of bed. His body felt stiff, sluggish, like it didn’t want to cooperate with him. The room was spinning as he tried to get dressed in a daze, throwing clothes into his bag without a second thought. Nothing mattered right now except getting out of here, away from this suffocating, overwhelming situation.

Twenty minutes later, Heeseung trudged down the stairs, bag slung over his shoulder, his eyes bloodshot, his hair sticking out in every direction, but still managing to look good. He made his way to the front door, where Mr. Song was waiting, looking as composed and unbothered as always. He didn’t say anything as Heeseung stepped outside into the crisp morning air. The Uber was parked at the curb, a sleek black car that seemed out of place for the mood Heeseung was in. The driver, a middle-aged man with a stoic expression, opened the door for him without a word, his butler following from behind with two of his suitcases.

Heeseung climbed in, slamming the door behind him with more force than necessary. The car pulled away from the curb, and the city—his city—began to fade into the distance. The towering buildings, the crowded streets, the hustle and bustle of Seoul—everything he knew and loved, all of it was being left behind. The thought made his stomach twist, but he couldn’t even bring himself to care. Not right now. Not when everything was already falling apart.

The drive to the airport felt like a blur, the streets empty and quiet at this hour. Heeseung stared out the window, watching the city he once called home disappear behind him, replaced by the distant skyline of skyscrapers, fading away into the horizon. He felt a gnawing emptiness, like something inside of him was already gone, a part of him left back in Seoul, in the chaos and the noise that now felt like a distant memory.

When the Uber finally pulled up at the airport, Heeseung felt like he was in a dream. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, or how much longer it would take before he had to face his new reality. The airport terminal was a blur of people, all rushing to their own destinations, while Heeseung just shuffled through the crowd like a ghost, disconnected from it all.

He was supposed to get on a plane to Busan, where his life was going to change completely. Where the quiet, peaceful life his parents envisioned for him awaited. The idea of it felt suffocating. He couldn’t even picture it. The thought of spending the whole summer there—maybe even longer—made him feel claustrophobic. What could he do in that boring, lifeless town? He couldn’t even begin to imagine how he was supposed to fill the endless quiet of Busan, how he would survive without the chaos of Seoul, without the distractions that had become his life.

As he settled into his seat on the plane, staring out the window as the plane began to taxi down the runway, Heeseung closed his eyes, trying to block out the thoughts swirling in his head. He was leaving everything behind. And for what? To be trapped in a quiet, peaceful town with nothing to do but reflect on everything he was about to lose.

The plane began to ascend into the sky, and Heeseung took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as he gazed out at the receding city below. It was gone now, a tiny speck in the distance, and there was no turning back.

As the plane took off, Heeseung leaned back in his seat, feeling the uncomfortable, rigid fabric press against his back. The smell of recycled air mixed with the faint scent of his seat mate’s cologne—sickly sweet and too strong. His eyes flicked to the front of the cabin, where the luxurious first-class seats lay. He’d been accustomed to those kinds of perks, to having everything top-tier, handpicked, and ready to make his life as effortless and glamorous as possible. But today, he was stuffed into a cramped economy seat, barely any space to stretch his legs, wedged between an old man with a coughing fit and a younger guy who seemed to be enjoying the pleasure of his loud, sniffling nose.

It was a far cry from the private jets, the VIP sections, the smooth, uninterrupted flights he was used to. His parents, the ones who used to indulge him with every possible luxury, didn’t even bother to upgrade his seat. He was, to them, just another problem to deal with, a burden they were rushing to get rid of. In the past, they would’ve thrown money at him to make him happy, to give him everything he wanted, but now? Now they were treating him like a peasant, as if he was just some ordinary kid from a small town. He gritted his teeth, fuming silently.

The guy sitting next to him had already started hacking up a storm. Heeseung felt his eyes narrow in disgust as the man coughed loudly, barely covering his mouth. Every breath he took seemed to make Heeseung’s skin crawl, and he could feel his irritation growing with every second. The sickly-sweet cologne made it even worse, mixing with the heavy stench of the man’s apparent cold. Great. Just great. He was stuck with this guy for the next two and a half hours.

The flight felt endless, every minute dragging on as Heeseung fidgeted in his seat. The man next to him coughed again, and Heeseung subtly scooted away, as if trying to create some kind of imaginary barrier between them. His phone buzzed once, but he ignored it, not wanting to engage with anyone. His mind kept drifting back to the fact that he was heading to Busan. The more he thought about it, the more suffocating it felt. Everything he was leaving behind—the clubs, the late nights, the endless possibilities—was being replaced by what? Peace? Quiet? The thought made his stomach churn.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the plane began its descent. Heeseung glanced out the window, his eyes catching the sprawling landscape below. It looked nothing like Seoul—no towering buildings, no lights flashing in every direction. Just rolling hills and small, neat houses scattered across the land. He could already feel the weight of what was coming.

When the plane touched down, Heeseung could barely contain his frustration. He grabbed his bag from the overhead compartment and made his way off the plane with slow, deliberate steps. He had to act like he cared about this trip, like he was excited to be here. But deep down, the last thing he wanted was to spend any more time in this place.

As he entered the terminal, his eyes scanned the crowd, and then—there she was. His grandmother, standing with a bright smile and open arms. She looked so out of place here, in her modest clothes and welcoming demeanor. Heeseung’s stomach twisted slightly as she hurried toward him, arms outstretched, ready to envelop him in a hug. The kind of hug that always made him uncomfortable—too warm, too familiar.

“Heeseung!” she exclaimed, her voice full of joy. “It’s so good to see you, my dear!”

Heeseung couldn’t help but put on a forced smile as she wrapped him in a tight embrace, her arms squeezing him warmly. The smell of her lavender perfume mixed with the fresh air of the airport. It was so… homey, so real—everything that felt so distant and foreign to him now. He stiffened in her arms, allowing the hug to last just a moment longer than necessary before gently pulling away.

“Yeah, it’s great to be here, Grandma,” he said with a strained smile, trying to sound polite despite the frustration brewing underneath. He wasn’t going to let her see how annoyed he was. She was his grandmother, after all, and she was just doing what she thought was best for him. But that didn’t mean he had to like it.

He saw the glimmer of joy in her eyes as she looked up at him, so full of hope, as if she hadn’t seen him in years, even though it had only been a few months. “I’ve already prepared your room and your favorite snacks.”

Heeseung gave a small nod, his mind already drifting to the dull, quiet life he was about to begin here. His thoughts raced as his grandmother continued talking, her voice filled with excitement about all the things she’d planned for him in the coming days. He nodded along, pretending to be interested as they made their way to the car. But every part of him just wanted to get this over with.

Busan wasn’t his world. It never had been. But for now, it was the one he was stuck in.

When they arrived at his grandmother’s house, Heeseung couldn’t help but notice how small and cozy everything was. The house, while neat and well-kept, had an old-fashioned charm—wooden floors, soft light filtering through the windows, and the faint scent of lavender that seemed to linger in every corner. It was everything Seoul wasn’t. Peaceful. Quiet. Incredibly… boring.

His grandmother smiled at him as she ushered him inside, immediately making him feel like a guest in a place he didn’t want to be. She moved around the small kitchen with ease, the sound of her soft footsteps on the wooden floor the only noise in the otherwise still house.

“Come, come, sit down. I made your favorite,” she said, her eyes twinkling as she placed a steaming bowl of ramen in front of him. Heeseung’s stomach growled at the sight, but his heart wasn’t in it. He knew his grandmother had made the effort, but he wasn’t ready to feel the warmth of her affection—not now, not in this place.

It was ramen, yes—his favorite—but it wasn’t the instant kind he usually devoured with a hangover back in Seoul. This was homemade, the broth rich and full of flavor, the noodles tender. Despite himself, Heeseung took a bite, the taste instantly familiar, but it did little to comfort him. Everything here felt too… simple. Too real.

“Thanks,” he muttered, not looking up from his bowl. He tried to force a smile, but it came out strained, as if he were pretending for the sake of politeness. He didn’t want to be here, but he couldn’t outright tell her that. She was doing her best, after all.

His grandmother sat down beside him, her hands folded neatly in her lap, watching him with gentle eyes. “You’ve been through so much, my dear. It must be hard, coming all the way here,” she said softly. Heeseung didn’t respond immediately, focusing on his ramen as if it would somehow distract him from the discomfort growing in his chest.

After a few moments of silence, she stood up. “I’m going to prepare dinner for later, but I seem to have run out of a few things. The fridge is a bit empty. Would you mind going to the market to pick up some fruits and vegetables for me?” she asked, her voice gentle, almost apologetic.

Heeseung froze. A few seconds passed before he even looked up at her, blinking as though he’d misheard. “What?” he asked, his tone a bit sharper than he intended.

His grandmother looked at him, slightly confused but still polite. “I just need some basics, fruits and vegetables, you know. It’s just a few minutes’ walk. Would you mind?”

Heeseung’s jaw clenched. A few minutes’ walk? He wasn’t used to walking anywhere, let alone doing errands. Back in Seoul, he had people to do this for him. His assistant, his driver, even his personal shopper—someone always took care of these small tasks. The idea of having to walk down the street to a market, something so… normal, felt beneath him. His fingers tightened around the bowl, his thoughts running wild.

“You want me to go… get groceries?” His voice had a bite to it now, but his grandmother didn’t seem to notice the irritation creeping in. She simply smiled warmly and nodded.

“Yes, just a few things. I’m sorry, I didn’t plan ahead,” she apologized, genuinely unaware of how much he despised the request. “It won’t take long.”

Heeseung’s mind reeled. This is ridiculous. His gaze flicked to the window, staring out at the serene street beyond, where everything seemed to move at a pace he wasn’t used to. It was like everyone here had all the time in the world—time to do things slowly, with no urgency. That wasn’t him. He wasn’t used to doing things for himself. It made him feel… small.

“Fine,” he muttered, standing up abruptly. His movements were stiff, his mood darkening by the second. He wasn’t used to this—this lack of service, lack of luxury. And here he was, forced to walk down the street for some damn fruit. It was like a slap to the face.

His grandmother beamed at him, oblivious to his inner turmoil. “Thank you, dear. You’re a good boy.”

Heeseung didn’t bother to respond. Instead, he grabbed his jacket from the chair, pulling it on with as much effort as he could muster, before storming out the door without another word. The door clicked shut behind him, and as he stepped out into the quiet streets of Busan, the reality of his situation began to sink in. The silence of the town was almost suffocating. It wasn’t the vibrant, fast-paced life of Seoul, where everything was taken care of for him, where he was the one with the power, the one with the privilege.

Here? Here, he was just another person—doing his own errands, walking around like everyone else. The thought made his stomach turn, and for a brief moment, he hated everything about this place, about his grandmother’s simple, quiet life.

As he walked to the market, Heeseung couldn’t stop the growing resentment from bubbling up inside him. Every step, every moment spent outside of his comfort zone felt like an insult. He wasn’t sure how long he could last in this town, but one thing was certain—he couldn’t wait to get back to Seoul.

The streets of Busan stretched before Heeseung, calm and predictable, a stark contrast to the chaos of Seoul. The ocean breeze carried the scent of salt and freshly baked bread from a nearby shop, and the occasional chatter of pedestrians filled the air. To anyone else, it might have felt peaceful. To Heeseung, it felt painfully dull.

He walked with his hands stuffed in his pockets, shoulders hunched forward. His grandmother had sent him out for groceries, claiming the fresh produce here was better than anything he could find in Seoul. He didn’t care—he just wanted to get this over with. Every step felt heavier than the last, the slow pace of Busan gnawing at him, suffocating him with its quiet simplicity.

Just as he turned the corner, something—or rather, someone—slammed straight into him. A force knocked against his chest, sending him stumbling back, and before he could react, he heard it.

A sickening crack against the pavement.

His heart sank. His phone. His only lifeline to Seoul, his only source of entertainment in this slow, uneventful city—gone. His jaw clenched as frustration surged through him. Of course this would happen here.

“Are you kidding me?” he snapped, his voice sharp.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” a flustered voice rushed out.

Heeseung barely registered the words as his eyes dropped to the ground. The dread in his stomach deepened. His phone lay face-up on the pavement, its screen shattered beyond recognition. His fists curled at his sides, and he exhaled harshly. Unbelievable.

You crouched down quickly, picking up the broken device and turning it over in your hands. “I-I didn’t see you there,” you stammered, eyes wide with guilt. “I was in a hurry, I wasn’t looking—”

Heeseung snatched the phone from your grasp, inspecting the damage.

“Yeah, no kidding,” he muttered, his irritation rising.

You winced. “I’m really sorry. Let me take you to a repair shop—I’ll cover the cost.”

Heeseung scoffed, shaking his head. “As if there’s even a decent one around this shitty place.”

“There is,” you insisted, ignoring his attitude. “It’s not far from here. Please, let me fix this.”

Your voice was gentle, sincere. In Seoul, people either avoided responsibility or threw money at problems like this without a second thought. But you… you actually cared. And for reasons he couldn’t quite explain, that irritated him even more.

He glanced at you more carefully now, noticing the bags of groceries you were holding in your arms. What the hell? he thought. What’s she doing with those?

“Wait,” Heeseung began, a new question forming in his mind as he looked down at the bags. “You delivering groceries or something?”

You nodded, your eyes shifting slightly. “Yeah, I deliver groceries to Miss Lee every week. I was a bit late today, that’s why I bumped into you. I’m sorry again.”

Heeseung blinked, the name clicking in his mind. Miss Lee? His grandmother. He paused, feeling something shift inside him. He thought about the grocery list his grandmother had given him that morning. Had she expected you to come? That would explain why she’d sent him out, probably thinking you wouldn’t make it today.

“You… you deliver to my grandmother?” Heeseung asked, the realization hitting him slowly.

You nodded again, but there was a flicker of surprise in your eyes. “Yeah, she’s… really sweet. I’ve been delivering to her for a while now. Actually, I’m kind of shocked she has a grandson. She’s never mentioned you.”

Heeseung’s brows furrowed. She never mentioned me? That hit him harder than it should have. He had assumed his grandmother had at least said something about him, but maybe she hadn’t. It wasn’t like they had a close relationship. She probably didn’t want to bring him up to you. Why would she?

“I guess she never talks about me,” Heeseung muttered, a little annoyed by the thought. “She never told you about me?”

You shook your head. “No, never. She’s always so kind to me—invites me over for dinner every so often, but I never got the sense she had anyone close in her life. Just… her life here in Busan.”

Heeseung felt a strange mix of irritation and guilt at that. She was right—his grandmother had never mentioned him in a way that implied they were anything more than distant. But he hadn’t made the effort either. The thought stung a bit more than he was willing to admit.

You noticed the silence hanging between you and smiled softly. “Look, I know this probably isn’t the best first impression, but if you want, I can take you to that repair shop. It’s really not far, and I’ll cover the cost of fixing your phone.”

Heeseung rubbed his temples, feeling the weight of his frustration finally start to settle. “Fine. Lead the way. And… I guess thanks.”

You smiled in relief, nodding. He followed you as you walked, the bags of groceries still in your arms. His mind kept racing. Maybe it was a coincidence, or maybe it was something more. Either way, this was the first time in a long time that he was actually starting to think twice about his grandmother’s life, and what he might have missed in the years he’d kept his distance. He was pretty sure he didn’t want to be stuck here in Busan, but if things like this kept happening, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all. At least, not with you around.

Heeseung followed you into the small shop, still feeling the weight of the broken phone in his hand. He was trying to figure out if this whole thing was a joke. First, he had to leave Seoul, and now, in the middle of this quiet little town, his phone had broken, and this was the only place that could fix it.

The repair shop wasn’t much. The smell of old coffee lingered, and the shelves were lined with spare parts and old phones, like a tiny tech graveyard. Behind the counter stood Jin, a guy with a relaxed vibe, scruffy beard, and a look that said he wasn’t going to let the chaos of life bother him too much.

“Hey, Y/N,” Jin greeted you with a nod, glancing at Heeseung before turning back to the counter. “What’s up today?”

“Hi, Jin. Sorry about the phone,” you said, dropping a bag of groceries on the counter. “It’s his. He’s having a rough morning.”

Heeseung shot you a look, then glanced at the man behind the counter. He couldn’t tell if the guy was serious or just doing his job, but when Jin smiled, he knew something was off.

“No worries,” Jin said, his voice easy. “You know you don’t have to pay for repairs, right?”

“Excuse me?” Heeseung’s voice slipped out without thinking. “What do you mean, no charge? I’m not asking for a freebie here.”

Jin held up his hands. “Relax. Y/N helps me out around here. She’s good people. Honestly, I owe her more than I can give.”

Heeseung blinked, trying to wrap his head around this. Y/N was helping some random guy with his shop… for fun? That didn’t sound like anything he’d ever seen back in Seoul. People helped each other there too, but it was always for a reason, always with something to gain. This? It was just… weird.

Jin chuckled, clearly not fazed by Heeseung’s confusion. “I’m not gonna charge you for the repairs. But you? You’re getting a new phone.”

A new phone? Heeseung raised an eyebrow. “What? You’re just giving me a new one?”

Jin shrugged, a little amused. “Why not? You’re lucky. I can’t think of a better way to repay Y/N for everything she does.”

Heeseung stared at the phone Jin handed him, trying to wrap his mind around what was going on. This wasn’t some charity. No one just gave stuff away like this. But here it was—a brand new phone, way nicer than the broken one in his hand. It was almost as if Jin didn’t even see a reason not to.

“Damn,” Heeseung muttered under his breath, still skeptical. “That’s… unexpected.”

“Yeah, well, Y/N’s a one-in-a-million kind of person,” Jin said with a grin. “Helps me with the shop, takes care of my kid… You won’t find anyone like her in Seoul. I promise you that.”

Heeseung just nodded slowly, the weight of the new phone sinking in. “Right. So… what now?”

Jin gestured toward the counter. “Take it. You’re good to go. Just don’t break this one.”

Heeseung didn’t really know how to respond to that. “I won’t.”

“Well, if you do, just come back. I’ll fix it for free—again,” Jin added, his tone light, like this was all part of some normal routine.

As you gathered your things, Heeseung hesitated for a moment, still not used to this whole vibe. People didn’t just give things away for no reason in Seoul. Here, everything felt different. He wasn’t sure if it was a good or bad thing yet.

You walked out ahead of him, the groceries still in your arms, and Heeseung followed with the brand-new phone, still staring at it like it was some kind of alien object. “Guess I’ll have to get used to this,” he muttered under his breath.

You turned to him with a half-smile. “You will. It’s not that bad, you know. Just… try to not drop that one on the pavement, okay?”

Heeseung gave a half-hearted chuckle, but it didn’t feel as forced as it would have back in Seoul. “Yeah, sure,” he said, his voice still a little dry. “But don’t expect me to become some… Busan saint overnight.”

You shot him a look, one eyebrow raised. “I’m not asking you to change. Just don’t break the phone again.”

Heeseung smirked, shoving the new device into his pocket, still not sure what he’d just gotten himself into. “Whatever,” he said. “I’ll try to keep it in one piece, I guess. But I’m still not a fan of this town.”

You just shrugged, looking ahead as you walked. “We’ll see. You’ll get used to it.”

Heeseung let out a breath. Maybe. Maybe not. But for now, it was one less thing he had to worry about.

As you both made your way back to his grandmother’s house, the weight of the grocery bags was starting to get to you. They weren’t heavy, but the repetitive strain of carrying them made your arms ache a little. Still, you didn’t mind; this was just another day in Busan. You glanced over at Heeseung, who was walking beside you with his hands shoved deep in his pockets. His posture was stiff, and the way he scanned the surroundings made it clear: he wasn’t used to it here. He wasn’t used to any of it.

The small streets of Busan, with their peaceful rhythm, were a far cry from the chaos of Seoul. You couldn’t imagine how uncomfortable it must be for someone like him. You could see the way he cringed at the silence, how his shoulders were hunched forward, as though he was actively trying to shrink away from the stillness of it all. It was almost funny, how someone so used to the loud, fast-paced life of Seoul could feel so out of place in this small, quaint town.

“So,” you said, breaking the silence as you walked, “tell me about Seoul. What’s it really like? I mean, it sounds like another world from here.”

Heeseung glanced at you, his lips curling into a brief, cynical smirk. “It is. It’s loud. It’s fast. The people don’t care. And it’s always… moving. It’s like you never stop, and it’s just… better, you know?” His words came out sharper than you expected, like he was trying to convince himself more than you.

You nodded, noticing the bitterness in his tone. “Yeah, but why did you hate it so much?”

Heeseung let out a breath and shrugged, his gaze drifting to the ground. “It’s the same shit everyday. It was fun, for a while, but then it just… got boring. No one really gives a damn. It was all just distractions. And I didn’t want that anymore. But this,” he gestured vaguely at the small streets of Busan, “this is just… too quiet. Too nice. It’s like living in a bubble. I can’t stand it.”

You blinked, surprised at the rawness in his voice. “So, you miss it? The chaos, the noise?”

Heeseung didn’t answer right away. He seemed to be weighing something, before he muttered, “Yeah. I miss it. I miss the parties. I miss the drinking. I miss just… having people around. Even if they don’t care about you. At least it felt real. Here? It’s like everyone’s walking around on eggshells, pretending everything’s perfect.” His voice grew more frustrated as he continued, the usual coolness replaced by something deeper. “I get it. I know why my parents sent me here. They think I’ll change, but what’s the point of change if it means… this?” He gestured around at the peaceful, quiet streets, the ocean breeze that filled the air with calm. “I don’t want to be stuck in this goddamn town, living this boring life with nothing to do but watch the world move around me.”

You were quiet for a moment, letting the weight of his words sink in. You’d never met someone who hated a place like this so much. You didn’t understand it completely—after all, Busan had always been home to you, with its slow pace and comforting familiarity. But you could see how someone like Heeseung, someone who thrived on excitement, would feel stifled here.

“So,” you began, trying to shift the mood, “you think you’re going to go back to Seoul anytime soon?”

Heeseung scoffed, running a hand through his hair as he stared ahead. “I wish. But my dad’s made it clear: if I don’t stay here, I’m cut off. No more money, no more fun. Just this life.” His voice was bitter, each word laced with frustration. “It’s either this, or nothing.”

You shrugged, deciding not to press him further. It was clear he didn’t want to be here, but you weren’t sure what kind of life he really wanted either. You couldn’t blame him for feeling out of place, but there had to be more to him than just the party-boy act.

“Well, you could always go back to the city when you’re ready,” you said casually, though you didn’t fully believe it. You’d never seen someone so desperate to run away from something so peaceful.

Heeseung didn’t respond right away. Instead, he glanced over at you as you carried the heavy bags. “You know,” he said with a hint of hesitation, “you don’t have to carry all that yourself. You could’ve asked for help.”

You laughed lightly, not even breaking stride. “Oh, I’m fine. It’s nothing, really.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Are you always this stubborn? Don’t you have a boyfriend who could help with stuff like this?”

You chuckled at his attempt to steer the conversation away from the heavy topic, and without missing a beat, you shot back, “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

Heeseung gave you a quick glance, confused. “No boyfriend? Why not?”

You shrugged, your expression neutral. “I’m just waiting for the right person. I haven’t been in love yet, so I’m not in any rush.”

Heeseung scoffed, as if the idea of waiting for “the one” was absurd. “That’s stupid. Love’s just… a distraction. You’re telling me you believe in soulmates?” He seemed genuinely baffled by the idea.

“Yeah,” you said, nodding slightly. “I believe that when the time’s right, someone’s going to show up. Why rush it?”

Heeseung snorted, shaking his head. “Soulmates. That’s a nice fairy tale.”

You shot him a look. “Well, you don’t have to believe in it. But it’s nice to think that someone out there is meant for me, y’know?”

He didn’t answer. His expression softened just a little, but only for a second before he shifted the conversation again. “What about you, though? Why do you do all this stuff for people? I mean, you work for free. You help out with Jin’s shop. You take care of his kid, and for what? What’s in it for you?”

You smiled, the weight of the groceries beginning to feel heavier again, but you didn’t care. “I do it because it makes me feel good. There’s no catch. I just like making people’s lives a little easier, especially when they’re struggling.” You paused, glancing over at him. “Not everyone has the luxury of things coming easily to them.”

Heeseung didn’t reply right away, and for a second, you thought he was going to brush you off. But instead, he turned to you, his expression thoughtful, almost pensive.

“Yeah, well, maybe you’re right,” he muttered. “But… I still think you’re wasting your time.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Maybe. But it’s my time to waste, isn’t it?”

As you continued walking, you couldn’t help but notice that Heeseung was walking just a little bit slower now, his shoulders a little less tense. Maybe it was just the calm of Busan working its way under his skin, or maybe… just maybe, he was starting to understand what you meant. He had a long way to go before he’d admit it, but something in his expression made you think that, despite all his bravado, Heeseung wasn’t as sure of his life as he tried to seem.

When you finally arrived back at Mrs. Lee’s house, your arms were sore from carrying the heavy bags of groceries. You stepped through the door and were greeted by Mrs. Lee, who was in the kitchen preparing something.

“Oh, you’re back already?” she asked, surprised. “I didn’t expect you to bring the groceries. You didn’t come like usual, so I thought you must’ve gotten busy. So, I made him go out and get it for me.”

You glanced over at Heeseung, who was already walking inside with his usual disinterested expression. He seemed completely indifferent, clearly not in the mood for any kind of conversation.

“Well,” you started softly, your voice apologetic, “We kind of bumped into each other on the way here. I wasn’t paying attention, and… I accidentally broke his phone.” You paused, feeling a bit awkward. “I offered to take him to a repair shop to get it fixed, and that’s how this whole thing turned into an impromptu grocery run.”

Mrs. Lee chuckled lightly, giving you a warm smile. “You’re very kind, Y/N. Heeseung usually doesn’t let anyone help him.” She turned to glance at her grandson, who was already walking up the stairs, uninterested in the conversation.

“Well,” Mrs. Lee continued, “since you’re here, could you help Heeseung unpack his things? I’m sure he could use the help.”

You hesitated, then nodded. “Sure, I’ll help him.”

His room wasn’t what you expected. It was neat, organized, and… almost too perfect. The kind of room that looked like it had been arranged by someone who had little interest in making it homey. Everything had its place, and there was no sign of the kind of chaos that usually accompanies someone who had just moved in. Heeseung, on the other hand, stood off to the side, looking as uninterested as ever.

You started unpacking a bag of his things, trying to make the space feel a bit more lived in. As you did, you noticed something on the floor near his bag. You knelt down and picked up a box of condoms, surprised to find it among his clothes. What the hell is he planning on doing with those? you thought to yourself, feeling slightly uncomfortable, your cheeks heating up. You didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but it was hard not to wonder about Heeseung’s lifestyle.

You placed the box back down in its spot, still trying to process the absurdity of it all. “This guy really brought everything with him,” you muttered to yourself.

Heeseung glanced over, his sharp eyes catching yours. “What? Judging the things I bring now?” His voice was cool, though there was a hint of irritation in it. “Something wrong with it?”

You quickly looked away, a little embarrassed. “No, it’s just… never mind.”

He smirked, a small, amused glint in his eyes. “Guess you’re not used to people like me, huh?” He leaned back against the doorframe, crossing his arms. “Not everyone’s a small-town angel.”

You continued unpacking Heeseung’s things, your mind wandering as you tried to make sense of the absurdity of it all. His room, his stuff—everything seemed so out of place for someone who had just arrived in this quiet town. As you shifted through the bags, you couldn’t help but glance up at him for a second. He was leaning against the doorframe, watching you silently, looking completely at ease in his space, like he didn’t have a care in the world.

Before you could stop yourself, your gaze lingered a little too long on him. Something about the way he looked—like he belonged in a magazine or a K-drama—made it hard not to stare.

You quickly snapped your eyes away, feeling a bit embarrassed, but before you could recover, Heeseung’s voice broke the silence. “You’re staring,” he said nonchalantly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as if it was no big deal.

You blinked, caught off guard. He didn’t even look at you when he said it, his attention still on his phone. “I—uh, sorry,” you stammered, trying to act normal, but his smirk made you feel exposed, like he could tell you were thinking more than you let on.

Heeseung just shrugged, seemingly unbothered. “Whatever.” His voice was casual, but there was a certain sharpness to it that you couldn’t quite shake off. Maybe it was because people in Busan don’t look like him a typical boy born in Seoul.

You focused on putting his things away, doing your best to ignore how your heartbeat had picked up just a little from the way he’d called you out. You weren’t sure why his words got to you so much, but there was something about him—something hard to ignore.

But you pushed the thoughts aside. You had enough to think about. “Let’s just finish this up,” you muttered under your breath, your hands still working, trying to keep your mind from wandering too far.

As you packed the last of his bags into the small wardrobe, you looked over at him again. He wasn’t paying attention to you anymore, his eyes glued to his phone. The way he just detached himself from everything around him was frustrating, but you couldn’t deny how interesting it was, too. He was so different from anyone you had met in Busan. You didn’t even think someone like him could exist here.

“Alright, that’s everything,” you said, trying to break the silence as you stood up. “Is there anything else?”

He looked at you then, like he was actually considering whether or not he had more to say. But before he could answer, his grandmother’s voice floated in from the kitchen.

“Heeseung!” Mrs. Lee called, her tone light and welcoming. “Why don’t you and y/nnie friend come have some tea?”

Heeseung gave you an unreadable look before turning to follow his grandmother into the kitchen. You shrugged, gathering your things as you followed him. Mrs. Lee, ever the gracious host, had already set everything out. The table was small, but cozy, and the warm scent of tea filled the room.

You sat down across from Heeseung, trying to ignore the awkwardness of the situation. It wasn’t your fault he’d been sent here. It wasn’t your fault he didn’t seem to want to be here, either. You weren’t even sure why you’d stuck around this long. But there was something about him—a puzzle you were determined to solve, even if he wasn’t making it easy.

Mrs. Lee beamed at the both of you, her hands clasped in front of her as she poured the tea. “You two must be tired after everything today,” she said with a warm smile. “I’m so glad you met my grandson. Heeseung doesn’t get out much in Seoul, so it’s good for him to have a new friend here.”

You smiled politely, but couldn’t help glancing at Heeseung. His eyes flickered over to you, but he said nothing. He was so quiet, so withdrawn, like he couldn’t care less. It made you want to say something, to ask him what he thought of all this, but you knew it wasn’t that simple.

“So, what do you plan on doing while you’re here in Busan?” you asked casually, trying to keep the conversation going.

He looked at you for a long moment before answering, his voice flat. “Suffer, suffer, and maybe some more suffering.”

“Really?” you said, almost wanting to let out a scoff. “Don’t you want to explore this city? It’s quite beautiful, don’t you think?”

He shrugged, his lips twitching slightly. “Guess you don’t know me very well, do you?”

You sighed, shaking your head. “I don’t think anyone does.”

Heeseung just smirked again, as if that was the answer he’d expected. The conversation shifted again as his grandmother asked about your family, but you couldn’t stop thinking about how guarded he was. You weren’t sure if he was scared of opening up or if he simply didn’t care. Either way, you were curious.

As the tea settled between them, you couldn’t help but feel like you were witnessing a slow-moving train wreck. It wasn’t your responsibility to fix Heeseung, but it didn’t stop you from wanting to know more. Whatever his story was, it wasn’t over yet.

The next morning, Heeseung was jolted awake by a knock on his door. Groggily, he glanced at the clock on his nightstand. 9 AM. To most people, that wasn’t so early. But for him? It was still the middle of the night. He let out a loud groan and buried his face in his pillow, the sheets tangled around his legs.

“Who the hell is knocking at this hour?” he muttered under his breath, his eyes barely open as he tried to fall back asleep. The sound of another knock echoed through the room.

“Come on, Heeseung, wake up!” a familiar voice called from outside.

He rolled over to face the door, his face still pressed into the pillow. He didn’t even want to know who it was, but the voice was unmistakable.

It was you.

With a resigned sigh, Heeseung threw off the covers and dragged himself out of bed. His eyes were half-lidded as he trudged over to the door and swung it open, trying to stifle a yawn.

You stood there, smiling brightly, almost too cheerfully for the time of day. You were holding a bag with what appeared to be snacks, and your eyes glimmered with excitement.

“Good morning, Heeseung!” you greeted, unfazed by his obvious lack of enthusiasm. “I hope I didn’t wake you up too early. But I thought today would be a good day to show you around Busan. You’re probably still not used to it here, right?”

Heeseung stared at you for a moment, still processing the fact that you were standing in front of him so early. He groaned again, rubbing his eyes. “Seriously? It’s barely 9 AM…”

“I know, I know,” you said, unfazed by his obvious irritation. “But trust me, it’ll be fun. You’ll get to see the popular beaches, the rivers, all the places people talk about.”

Heeseung had been dreading something like this. He wasn’t here to sightsee, and he definitely wasn’t interested in anything that resembled “fun” at this time of day. He was about to give a lazy refusal when he heard a familiar voice from behind him.

“Heeseung, dear, you should go. It’ll be good for you.” Mrs. Lee’s voice floated from the kitchen. “You don’t want to spend all your time cooped up inside. You might as well get to know Busan better.”

Heeseung sighed, the last thing he wanted to do today was get dragged around a bunch of beaches and tourist spots. But what could he do? His grandmother had that look on her face. The one that told him he’d have to do it, no matter how much he complained.

“Fine,” he muttered, trying to mask his annoyance. “But I swear, if I get dragged to any crowded tourist traps, I’m out.”

You just smiled and handed him a bottle of water. “It’s not like that, I promise. Let’s just go enjoy the day.”

As the day dragged on, Heeseung found himself following you around the streets of Busan, though his mind wasn’t really there. He was hoping for some kind of excuse to get out of this whole ordeal, but as the sun rose higher in the sky, he noticed something. The quiet, peaceful atmosphere of Busan was starting to grow on him, just a little bit. He hated to admit it, but there was something different here. Something that he couldn’t ignore.

You led him to one of the most popular beaches in the area, and for the first time, Heeseung felt a little more relaxed. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore was oddly soothing. The salty breeze hit him with a refreshing chill, and the scent of freshly baked bread and seafood lingered in the air.

Still, he wasn’t used to the tranquility of it all. It felt strange. He had never seen a place so peaceful, so unhurried. Seoul was the complete opposite—noisy, busy, everyone always rushing to go somewhere. But here, people just… existed. And you fit into that world perfectly.

As you wandered through the beach, you waved to almost everyone you passed, exchanging greetings with ease. Heeseung watched with a mix of confusion and awe. How did you know so many people?

“Morning, Y/N!” A man called out from a bench, waving as you passed. You returned the gesture, chatting briefly with him before continuing along.

“Hey, Y/N!” A couple of girls greeted, and you stopped to talk to them, laughing at something one of them said before you carried on.

Heeseung had never seen anything like it. People in Seoul didn’t talk to each other like this. There was always a distance between everyone, a sense of hurriedness that kept people from acknowledging one another. But in Busan? It was different.

“How do you know so many people?” Heeseung finally asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

You smiled, unfazed by his question. “I’ve lived here my whole life. You get to know people when you help out around town. It’s a small place, so it’s easy to make connections.”

Heeseung couldn’t help but wonder how many people you helped on a regular basis. You seemed so comfortable in your own skin, so open to the world around you. It was something he wasn’t used to, and he felt a strange sense of admiration for you—though he quickly dismissed it. No, he didn’t need to start feeling anything for someone like you. You were different. Too different.

As the day continued, Heeseung couldn’t ignore the growing warmth in his chest every time someone smiled at you or waved. It wasn’t like anything he had experienced before. It wasn’t the kind of warmth he got from the noise and chaos of his parties back in Seoul, where everything felt empty and fleeting. This was something… real. But what was it?

By the time you had finished showing him the rivers, the markets, and some of the more popular landmarks, Heeseung found himself lost in thought. You were nothing like anyone he knew back home. You were kind, open, and honest in a way that almost made him uncomfortable. But it also made him feel something he wasn’t sure he wanted to feel.

As you stood on the beach, watching the sun slowly set over the horizon, Heeseung glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. You were looking out at the water, your face soft in the fading light. He couldn’t help but feel a strange pull toward you, something unfamiliar that made him uneasy.

What was this? Why did you make him feel like this?

You turned to face him, catching his gaze, and for a brief moment, Heeseung was struck by how easy it was for you to make him feel so… unsettled. He was used to being the one who controlled the situation, who didn’t let anyone in. But here you were, a complete stranger, and somehow, you had gotten under his skin.

But he didn’t want to think about it. It was stupid. It was just the peaceful atmosphere of Busan making him think too much. He couldn’t let himself get distracted by something like this.

So, he shoved the thought aside, letting the warmth in his chest fade away.

“Alright, I’m done,” he said, turning on his heel and starting to walk back toward where you had parked the car.

You smiled to yourself, following after him, though you had no idea what was going on inside his head.

As you both made your way back toward the car, Heeseung stayed a few steps ahead, his hands stuffed deep into his pockets. He didn’t say much, and you figured he was still in his mood, probably counting down the minutes until he could return to his usual routine of partying and hooking up. He was still adjusting to this quiet, peaceful life, and you didn’t expect him to suddenly embrace it. Not yet, at least.

But you couldn’t help but notice the subtle shift in his demeanor. The way his eyes lingered on things a little longer than usual, the softening of his features when he wasn’t trying to hide it. Heeseung wasn’t someone who let his guard down easily, but there were moments when he looked almost… peaceful. It was a rare sight, and maybe that’s why you noticed it more than you should have.

“Hey, are you okay?” you asked casually, watching as he glanced at the horizon, his expression unreadable.

Heeseung gave you a sideways glance but didn’t immediately respond. Instead, he shoved his hands further into his pockets and looked away.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he muttered, his voice low. But there was something in the way he said it, a tinge of something that made you wonder if he was telling the truth.

“Well, thanks for coming today,” you said, your tone more sincere than you intended. “I know you probably didn’t want to, but I’m glad you did. It’s good to get out once in a while, right?”

Heeseung just grunted, not really acknowledging your words. But you noticed the way his posture softened a bit, like the weight of his frustration from earlier had lifted slightly. You didn’t know if it was from the fresh air, the quiet streets, or maybe just the fact that for once, he didn’t feel so suffocated by the city, but something about him seemed a little… different.

As you reached the car, Heeseung leaned against it, crossing his arms and staring at the ground. His usual cocky demeanor had faded, replaced by something that you couldn’t quite place. Was it discomfort? Was he actually considering what you said? The thought made you pause for a moment.

“So,” you said after a beat, breaking the silence, “you really don’t like it here, huh? Busan, I mean.”

Heeseung didn’t look up. “It’s… too quiet,” he replied simply. “I’m used to Seoul. The noise, the people, the clubs, everything. It’s not the same here.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “You don’t think it’s a little… better here? Peaceful, maybe?”

Heeseung snorted. “It’s boring. I don’t need peace. I need life. I need… energy. Excitement.”

You let out a small laugh, though it wasn’t mocking, just amused by his stubbornness. “You know, I think you’re going to need a little more than ‘life’ and ‘energy’ if you really want to make it here.”

Heeseung finally looked at you, his eyes narrowing slightly. “I can handle myself.”

The way he said it made you wonder if he truly believed it. But you didn’t press him. You could see he was still struggling with the idea of being in Busan, and while you didn’t fully understand his attachment to the chaos of Seoul, you knew better than to push too hard.

“So, what now?” he asked, suddenly more curious than before. “We head back to your grandma’s place, or what?”

You smiled and nodded. “Yeah, we should probably get back. I promised her I’d help with some things.”

Heeseung raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “Wait, what? You’re really that dedicated to helping an old lady?”

You chuckled at the way he phrased it. “Well, Mrs. Lee isn’t just an old lady, you know? She’s been a big part of my life for years. Plus, she’s always there for me when I need something. It’s the least I can do.”

Heeseung scoffed lightly, though there was no real malice behind it. “Yeah, sure, whatever. I guess you’re just one of those ‘do-gooders,’ huh?”

You looked at him with a slightly amused smile. “Is that a bad thing?”

Heeseung shrugged. “I don’t know. Just seems kind of… cheesy.”

You laughed lightly. “You’d be surprised how much people like a little kindness now and then.”

Heeseung didn’t reply, but you noticed the corner of his mouth twitch upwards ever so slightly, like he was fighting the urge to smile. He quickly looked away, as if to hide it.

The drive back was a quiet one, with the occasional comment from Heeseung about how quiet Busan was or how “boring” everything seemed. But you didn’t mind. There was something calming about the quiet between you two, and you could feel the subtle shift in the air. Maybe, just maybe, he was starting to appreciate the small things in life here. Or maybe he was just starting to get used to you.

When you reached Mrs. Lee’s house, you both got out of the car and made your way inside, the peaceful atmosphere of Busan seeming to wrap around you again. But this time, Heeseung didn’t complain. Instead, he followed you inside, and for a brief moment, you saw something different in his eyes—a sense of curiosity that had been absent before.

Maybe he didn’t fully understand it yet, but you could tell that he was beginning to.

Weeks passed since that day at the beach, and Heeseung had reluctantly started to adjust to life in Busan. It wasn’t like he had a choice. His parents had made it clear that he was here to stay until they thought he was ready to go back to Seoul—if that ever happened. He still hated the quiet, the slow pace, and the constant reminder that he was stuck here. But, slowly, he began to get used to it.

There was something about you that he couldn’t quite shake, though. You were always so calm, always so genuinely kind, and for the first time in a long time, Heeseung found himself looking forward to the moments you came over. He didn’t admit it, of course. He was still the same Heeseung—the one who kept his distance, the one who didn’t let anyone in too easily. But he started to warm up to you. He accepted that you were probably the only real friend he had here, even if he didn’t want to admit it.

You both followed each other on Instagram, and he found himself checking your page more than he wanted to. At first, he convinced himself that it was just because you were the only one he knew in Busan. You had a lot of pictures of the places around the city—the markets, the beaches, and the food. Sometimes he’d scroll through your stories, watching you chat with your friends, laughing with them, and living your quiet little life. It made something twist in his stomach that he couldn’t quite identify.

He hated how much he found himself looking at your posts, but it was like a habit he couldn’t shake. There was something about your smile, something about the way you seemed so… content, that had a strange effect on him. He wasn’t sure if he liked it or hated it. Either way, it made him miss you in a way that didn’t make sense to him.

It was a restless night for Heeseung. His mind kept racing, thoughts of you lingering in his head. He couldn’t shake the feeling, the strange sense of longing that made him feel more out of place than ever. He had convinced himself over and over that it was just because you were the only person he knew in Busan, that it was just the loneliness of the city playing tricks on him. But the more he thought about it, the more he knew that wasn’t the case.

He turned over in his bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to block out the thoughts of you. But there they were, your smile, your laugh, the way you made him feel like maybe he wasn’t so far gone after all. He hated that he was thinking about you like this, hated how you’d crept under his skin. It didn’t make sense. Why you? Why now?

He glanced at his phone. It was 3 a.m. His thumb hovered over your contact, hesitation flooding him. He had been lying there for what felt like hours, debating whether or not to reach out to you. It wasn’t like him—Heeseung didn’t just call anyone at this hour, especially not someone like you. But the thought of hearing your voice, of not feeling so damn alone for just a few minutes, was enough to make his decision.

He pressed your name and waited, his heart pounding in his chest.

The phone rang once. Then twice. Before the third ring, your voice cut through the darkness.

“Heeseung?” you answered, your voice quiet but clear, as if you had been waiting for the call. It caught him off guard.

Heeseung didn’t speak right away. There was something about the way you answered, without any hesitation, that made him feel… stupid. Like maybe this wasn’t as big of a deal as he was making it in his head. But before he could gather his thoughts, the silence stretched between them.

Heeseung’s heart pounded in his chest, the silence between them thick and awkward. He stared at the dark room around him, feeling the weight of the night settle on his shoulders. He had no idea why he even called. What was he doing? It was 3 a.m., for God’s sake.

The quiet hum of your voice through the phone pulled him back to reality.

“What are you doing up so late?” you asked, your tone light and filled with that quiet kindness he had come to recognize.

He froze for a moment. He wasn’t sure how to answer. His mind raced, and for once, he was at a loss for words. What could he say? That he couldn’t sleep? That his mind had been running in circles with thoughts of you? That would sound ridiculous. He wasn’t the kind of guy to admit things like that.

He let out a sharp breath, trying to sound casual, as if it wasn’t bothering him at all. “I… I couldn’t sleep,” he muttered, shifting in bed, feeling the tension in his muscles. “Just… thinking.”

You were quiet for a moment, probably waiting for more, but Heeseung wasn’t sure how to explain any of this. He didn’t even fully understand it himself.

Finally, he broke the silence again, forcing himself to sound a little less awkward. “Anyway, I just—well, I guess I needed to hear a familiar voice.”

The words hung in the air, and Heeseung instantly regretted saying them.

Heeseung sat up in bed, the glow of his phone lighting up his face in the darkness of his room. He wasn’t sure why he’d called, and the more he thought about it, the more ridiculous it seemed. He could feel the silence stretching between the two of you before you finally spoke.

“What are you doing up so late?” you asked, your voice soft and warm through the phone.

Heeseung hesitated, the words catching in his throat. He wasn’t used to being vulnerable, and right now, all he wanted was to avoid it. His gaze flicked toward the window, the quiet, still streets of Busan mocking him as if reminding him of just how different this place was from Seoul.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he muttered, shifting uncomfortably on the bed. “Just… thinking.”

He didn’t know why that seemed like the most acceptable answer, but it was the truth, in a way. His mind had been racing ever since he’d gotten off the phone with his parents earlier that day, the weight of his situation still pressing down on him.

He heard you pause, then you teased him. “I thought you said my voice was annoying? What did you say I sounded like? A-”

Heeseung quickly cut you off, his voice low and defensive, “I didn’t mean that. I was just messing around, alright?”

You were silent for a moment, and he could almost picture you smirking on the other end, and that somehow irritated him. Why was he so flustered? Why had he even called?

He shifted again, a small laugh escaping your lips through the phone. “You’re such a liar. I knew you didn’t mean it. No one can resist my voice for too long.”

Heeseung rolled his eyes, leaning back against the headboard. He didn’t know how to respond to that, especially when the truth was that his thoughts had been consumed with you ever since you’d showed him around the town. He didn’t get it. Why was he thinking about you now? He didn’t even know you that well.

“I’m serious,” he muttered, feeling that strange mix of frustration and confusion bubbling inside him. “It’s just… different here, you know?”

You responded with understanding. “Busan’s a lot quieter than Seoul. You’ll get used to it. It just takes time.”

Heeseung wasn’t sure if he believed that, but hearing your voice and your gentle words made him feel a little lighter, even though he hated to admit it. You had that effect on him, and he hated it.

“Yeah, whatever,” he said, trying to brush it off. “I’m still not used to it.”

There was a long pause. He almost thought you’d hang up, but then you spoke again, quieter this time.

“You’ll be okay,” you said. “I know it’s not easy, but things will change, Heeseung. Just… take it one step at a time.”

Heeseung didn’t respond immediately. He didn’t know how to respond to something so simple, so calm. He wasn’t sure if it was because of your words or because he didn’t want to admit it, but something inside him shifted, just a little. Maybe he could make it through this place after all. And maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be so bad with you around.

Heeseung leaned back against the headboard, feeling a strange, uncomfortable tightness in his chest that he couldn’t quite explain. The silence between you both felt different now—not awkward, but almost… too comfortable. It was something he didn’t know how to deal with, not when he was still trying to make sense of everything in his head.

“I guess I’ll… try to get some sleep,” he said, his voice trailing off.

He heard you sigh softly on the other end, and there was that warmth again, the kind that only you seemed to give him, even when he wasn’t asking for it.

“I’m sure you will,” you replied, your tone light but with a softness to it. “But if you can’t, you know where to find me.”

For some reason, those words hit him harder than they should have. He wasn’t used to this—this kindness, this genuine care. You weren’t just some stranger anymore. You were someone he relied on, whether he wanted to admit it or not. And it made him feel… weird. Confused. Like he was losing control of something he didn’t want to lose.

“I’ll be fine,” he said quickly, trying to shake the feeling. “You should get some sleep too.”

There was a pause, and when you spoke again, he could almost feel the smile on your face. “I’m already asleep, Heeseung. You’re just dreaming.”

He let out a soft, surprised laugh, despite himself. “Yeah, right. Maybe it’s a nightmare.”

“Is that so?” you teased lightly. “Well, if you ever need help with that, you know where I am.”

Heeseung let out a breath, trying to steady himself. Your voice was too calm, too soothing. And it made him feel things he didn’t want to feel. Things he couldn’t explain.

“Yeah, I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, his tone a little quieter than usual. It felt like there was something more he should have said, something more he wanted to say, but he didn’t know how to put it into words.

There was a soft pause before you replied, and when you did, it was simple: “Goodnight, Heeseung.”

Your voice was gentle, the way it always was, and for a moment, Heeseung just sat there in silence, phone pressed to his ear. He wanted to say something back, but the words didn’t come. He didn’t know what to say anymore, not when his mind felt like a mess.

The line went quiet, and Heeseung just stayed there, staring at the ceiling in the dark, his thoughts racing. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what else to say. Maybe it was better that way.

Eventually, the call ended, and all Heeseung was left with was the quiet of the room and the confusing feeling in his chest. It was so stupid. He was being stupid. He just needed to sleep, but his mind wouldn’t let him. Not when you were still there, lingering in his thoughts.

The room felt too quiet now. Too still.

He closed his eyes, trying to shut it all out, but the silence was deafening.

The morning light filtered through the window, and Heeseung woke up with a strange heaviness in his chest. His first thought, as ridiculous as it seemed, was of you. He couldn’t help it. Every time he tried to focus on something else, your voice, your smile, or even the way you always seemed to look at him like you actually cared—it was all there, stuck in his mind. It bothered him. And, somehow, it felt… nice?

He tried shaking it off, getting up to do something—anything—to distract himself. He needed to forget about last night, about that stupid, confusing conversation, and the fact that he wanted to hear your voice again. But it lingered.

Around lunchtime, he thought about calling you. He almost grabbed his phone, thumb hovering over your contact, but then he stopped himself. He was being ridiculous. He couldn’t face whatever was happening inside his head. He didn’t want to think about it, especially not today.

So he sat there, doing his best to avoid thinking about the way his heart skipped whenever he thought about you.

But then the doorbell rang, snapping him out of his thoughts. His grandma was out, and he didn’t expect anyone else. He walked to the door, pulling it open, and there you stood—holding a bag of instant ramen. His favorite, of course.

“I brought you some ramen,” you said with a soft smile, almost like you’d read his mind. “I know you don’t have anything else, and it’s your favorite. I figured you’d be starving.”

He blinked, momentarily speechless. What was going on? He never expected you to show up with something like this. Maybe it was because his grandma had been gone, or maybe it was just because… well, you cared.

“Uh, thanks,” Heeseung mumbled, trying to sound unaffected, but something in his chest tightened again. “You really didn’t have to.”

You shrugged, not even fazed by his cool demeanor. “I don’t mind. Besides, I’m the one who taught you how to cook ramen anyway.”

He didn’t say anything to that, just followed you into the kitchen. You both started to prepare the noodles, the kitchen filled with the sound of boiling water and the small clinks of metal as you moved around. You even hummed a little, and Heeseung couldn’t help but notice how much more relaxed you were compared to him. You just moved like everything was easy—like things weren’t as complicated as he made them.

You handed him the ramen packets, asking, “Hey, do you want to pour in the sauce packets, or should I?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Sauce packets?” He hadn’t even noticed that you were about to clean up the mess. The weird thing was—he didn’t mind.

Usually, he’d make a face and just leave it, or walk away, letting someone else clean up after him. But now?

Without thinking, he reached for the packets, uncapping them and adding them to the noodles. He glanced up at you. “I’ll clean up,” he said, surprising even himself.

You froze for a second, then let out a quiet laugh. “Oh, wow. Heeseung actually cleaning up? Someone must’ve slipped something into your ramen.”

He shot you a playful glare, even though he couldn’t help but feel a little defensive. “I’m not that bad.”

“You sure about that?” you teased lightly, though there was no malice in your tone. “I mean, I’ve seen you leave a mess all over the place. I guess I just didn’t expect this.”

Heeseung rolled his eyes but found himself laughing despite the teasing. It felt different—normal. Comfortable. “Well, guess you’re in for a surprise then,” he said, a bit of a smirk tugging at his lips.

You laughed again, shaking your head. “I never thought I’d see the day when you offered to clean up after yourself.”

He just shrugged, his gaze shifting away from you. “Maybe I’m not as bad as you think.”

You gave him a small smile, and for a moment, Heeseung felt a weird warmth in his chest again. Maybe, just maybe, he was starting to like it here. Maybe it wasn’t so bad.

But he wasn’t about to admit that out loud.

“Thanks,” he said quietly as you set the ramen down on the counter. You didn’t respond immediately, just gave him a glance before turning back to the stove.

In the silence that followed, Heeseung couldn’t help but feel that annoying little feeling again, the one he couldn’t shake. The one that made his chest tighten whenever you smiled, or laughed, or even when you teased him. He didn’t want to think about it, but he couldn’t help it.

Maybe he was just getting used to you, or maybe it was something else. Something more than that. But Heeseung didn’t know how to deal with that. Not yet. He wasn’t ready for it.

As you stirred the ramen, the smell of the rich broth mixing with the scent of the seasoning packets filled the air. You could feel Heeseung’s gaze on you, even without looking at him. It was the way he lingered in the corner of your vision, the way his silence weighed in the room. The kitchen felt warm, but not just from the stove.

You ignored it, of course. What else could you do? You told yourself it was just his usual quiet presence, the way he existed in a space without ever really being present. But there was something different today. His gaze lingered longer than usual. Maybe it was just your imagination, but you couldn’t help but feel like he was watching you a little more closely.

“Something on my face?” you asked without looking up, trying to sound casual as you added a little more seasoning to the pot.

He didn’t answer immediately. You could feel him hesitate, as if unsure whether to respond or not. You turned, meeting his eyes briefly, and caught that familiar look. He was staring again. But he didn’t say anything this time, and you didn’t press him either.

Why would he be staring at you? He was so… different. The contrast between you two was glaring. Heeseung was everything that this town wasn’t. He was loud, a little reckless, and far too aware of his looks. His life in Seoul, all the people and parties and chaos, it was so far from the peaceful rhythm of Busan. And then there was you. You were nothing like that. Quiet, simple, and someone who knew how to exist without drawing attention. The thought that he might actually be… interested? That he might want to spend time with you? It didn’t make sense.

You shrugged it off, stirring the ramen again, pretending like it didn’t matter. But deep down, a small part of you wondered why he was still here, in this small, warm kitchen with you.

Your mind started to wander, your hands working mechanically while your thoughts drifted. Why would a guy like Heeseung, someone who could have anyone, even care about someone like me? You weren’t bad-looking, not by any means. But compared to him? He had that perfect, effortless charm. His looks were always on display. He walked with that confidence, like he owned every room he walked into. His smile had the ability to make girls swoon, and there was a certain edge to him that made people take notice. You, on the other hand, had always preferred to stay out of the spotlight. You liked being quiet, making others feel comfortable. You didn’t need to stand out. Yet, here he was, staring at you like you were worth his attention.

It doesn’t make sense.

You told yourself to focus on the ramen, but the weight of his gaze felt heavy, even when you weren’t looking. His presence, the slight tension in the air whenever he was near, was starting to become something you couldn’t ignore. It was unsettling, yet somehow comforting, a paradox that you didn’t want to unpack.

“Do you need anything else?” you asked, still trying to distract yourself from the thoughts swirling in your head. You were determined to act like everything was normal, to keep the conversation light. After all, you were doing a favor for his grandmother, not trying to figure out why Heeseung was suddenly acting different.

Heeseung didn’t respond immediately, his eyes still fixed on you. You could feel the weight of his attention, how his eyes lingered a little too long. Then, without breaking eye contact, he reached for a nearby towel, his voice low but steady.

“No, it’s fine. I’ve got it.”

For a moment, the room was quiet again, only the sound of the ramen bubbling in the pot filling the space. You glanced at him briefly, only to catch him staring at you again, a faint smirk playing on his lips, almost like he was amused by something only he understood.

You forced yourself to look away, rolling your eyes internally. What is wrong with me?

It felt like something had shifted between you two in the past few days. At first, he’d been distant, almost standoffish. Now, it seemed like he was getting comfortable, letting his guard down little by little. It wasn’t much—just small moments here and there. A shared laugh, the way he’d offered to clean up without being asked, or how he didn’t argue when you came over to make him food. Even now, in this small kitchen, there was something different in the air.

But that didn’t change the fact that Heeseung was Heeseung, and you were just you. You were calm, introverted, and didn’t crave the drama or excitement he thrived on. His world was fast-paced, filled with people, parties, and noise. Your world was quieter, simpler, and more peaceful.

You tried to push away the irrational thought that he might actually be interested in you. What would someone like him even see in you? You weren’t glamorous or bold. You weren’t someone who had a reputation to uphold or a past that people whispered about. But Heeseung… He was different. Or maybe, you told yourself, you were seeing him differently than before. It was just a stupid feeling. Right?

Heeseung cleared his throat suddenly, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Did you just… laugh?”

You blinked at him, caught off guard by the question. “What?”

“Back there,” Heeseung repeated. “When I said I’d clean up, you laughed.”

You were silent for a moment, realizing that yes, you had laughed. But it wasn’t a mean laugh, or a mocking one—it was lighthearted. “I wasn’t laughing at you,” you said, trying to make it sound casual. “It’s just… you usually don’t offer to clean up. You’re more of a ‘leave it for someone else’ type of guy.”

Heeseung raised an eyebrow at you, then leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms. “So, what, you think I’m lazy or something?”

You shrugged, pretending to be unfazed. “I didn’t say that. I just think it’s funny how you suddenly care about cleaning up.”

He snorted, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Guess you just don’t know me as well as you think, huh?”

You wanted to roll your eyes again but bit your lip to keep yourself from doing it. Instead, you just smiled, this time a little less guarded. Maybe it was because the conversation wasn’t so awkward anymore. Maybe it was because he wasn’t so cold anymore.

“Maybe you’re right,” you said quietly, “Maybe I don’t know you at all.”

But that was the thing, wasn’t it? You were starting to feel like you wanted to know him. The thought caught you off guard as you looked at him once again—like you really did want to understand why he acted the way he did. But how could you? Heeseung was nothing like you. He was loud, brash, and unpredictable.

But still… you couldn’t help the way your heart did this weird thing every time he looked at you, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was starting to notice you, too. And for reasons you still didn’t understand, that was starting to matter to you more than you cared to admit.

It was getting late, and the kitchen was starting to feel a little more cramped with the fading daylight. The last of the dishes had been cleared, the ramen long finished, and you were getting ready to head out. Heeseung was still there, leaning against the counter, looking a bit more relaxed than when you first arrived. You’d helped a family with their kid earlier—something you did every now and then, especially since Mrs. Lee had asked you to stop by and help with a few errands. It was one of those little things you did that made you feel like you belonged here, in Busan.

You stood by the door, gathering your things, feeling that slight pull in your chest. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to leave—it was just… something felt different now. The way Heeseung had looked at you earlier, like he was thinking about something, made you wonder. Maybe it was just because you spent time together today, or maybe because you were finally starting to see another side of him.

Heeseung glanced at you as you put your jacket on, his voice breaking the silence.

“You leaving?” he asked, his tone casual, but there was something more there that you couldn’t quite place.

“Yeah, I promised I’d stop by and help with a few things for a family,” you replied with a soft smile. “I’ll be back later in the week though.”

He nodded, his eyes lingering on you for just a moment too long. You weren’t sure what to make of it, so you just gave him a nod in return, about to step out the door when—

“Hey, wait.”

You paused, turning back toward him.

Heeseung shifted uncomfortably, his hand reaching out slightly as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite get the words out. “You… um, you’re alright? I mean, you’re okay with everything, right?”

You were a little surprised by his sudden change in tone. His usual cool demeanor had softened, just slightly. It was almost like he was… checking in.

“I’m good,” you said, smiling a bit more genuinely now. “Don’t worry about me. You take care, alright?”

He hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering down to the floor before meeting your eyes again. “I will,” he muttered, almost as if he wasn’t sure whether to say more.

You left his house, and as the night crept in, a strange feeling gnawed at you. You kept thinking back to how he’d looked at you, how he’d asked if you were okay. You tried to shake it off, telling yourself it was just the way he was—his complicated mix of coolness and uncertainty. But then, as you reached your place, something else crossed your mind.

Heeseung was still in Busan. He wasn’t going back to Seoul anytime soon. And you were starting to realize that, even though you tried not to admit it, you did care about how he felt.

Heeseung lay in bed, the sheets tangled around his legs, staring at the ceiling. The night was too quiet, too still. He couldn’t sleep. His mind was buzzing with thoughts, most of them about you. It had been a strange day. Well, not strange, but different. He didn’t usually feel like this—like there was something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Something that kept him on edge.

He didn’t know why he called you earlier. Maybe it was the silence of the house or the way his thoughts kept drifting to you. Maybe it was the feeling that, despite all the people in Busan, you were the only one who had made an effort to get to know him. He wasn’t used to that.

The way he’d looked at you earlier today, how he’d felt something when you smiled or when you said something that made him laugh—it was all new. And for some reason, it made his chest tighten in a way he couldn’t explain.

He should’ve been thinking about how much he missed Seoul, the chaos, the late nights, the parties. That’s what he was used to, what he craved. Busan was too quiet, too peaceful. Too… different. But with you, things felt different too. In a way he wasn’t sure he liked.

He could feel your absence even now, like the air was too empty without your voice, without your presence.

The clock on his phone blinked 2:16 AM. He stared at it for a moment, feeling the weight of the silence pressing down on him. He didn’t know why, but his thumb hovered over your contact.

He tapped your name before he could think twice.

The call rang twice before he heard you pick up.

“Yeah?” Your voice came through the phone, soft and clear, like nothing had happened. Like everything was normal.

For a moment, Heeseung couldn’t bring himself to say anything. He felt stupid for even calling. What did he want from you? Was it just loneliness? Or was it something else?

“I… Yeah. I don’t know why I called,” he admitted, his voice trailing off. “It’s late. I just… thought about you, I guess.”

His words felt like a confession, and it made him uncomfortable. He wasn’t used to this. Not used to admitting he’d been thinking about someone else. His mind was trying to make sense of it all, but nothing was fitting into place.

He didn’t wait for you to answer immediately. Instead, he let the silence stretch on for a few seconds, his heart racing in a way he didn’t want to acknowledge.

On the other end, you hadn’t spoken either. He could hear you breathing, the small, steady rhythm that felt so calm, so different from his own thoughts.

And that’s when he realized something. He didn’t want this silence to end. Not yet. Not when he was still trying to figure out why he felt so unsettled when it came to you.

“Are you still there?” Heeseung asked quietly, his voice barely a whisper.

You responded, your voice warm but tinged with confusion. “Yeah, I’m here.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he said, the words escaping before he could stop them. He sounded almost embarrassed. But the truth was, he didn’t. He didn’t know why he’d called, or why you were on his mind more than he cared to admit.

You didn’t say anything at first. Maybe you were still processing it, like he was. Or maybe you didn’t know how to respond. But after a few beats, you finally spoke again.

“I thought you said my voice was annoying,” you said lightly, teasing but not in a mean way. “What did you say I sounded like?”

Heeseung froze for a second, his mind flashing back to earlier when he had made that joke about your voice. Damn, he didn’t expect you to bring that up now.

He almost laughed, but it came out more like a groan. “I was just messing around,” he said, cutting you off. “It wasn’t like that. It’s just—”

Just what? He had no idea. He didn’t know why he was acting so awkward all of a sudden, or why he couldn’t just let himself relax when he was talking to you.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head even though you couldn’t see him. “I guess I just… wanted to hear your voice. That’s all.”

The words came out too easily, and for a moment, he regretted saying them. But something about it felt right too. It was true—he did want to hear your voice. He wanted to talk to you more. He just didn’t know what this was.

There was another long silence between you two, but it wasn’t awkward. Not really. Just… something else, something he couldn’t quite place.

After a while, Heeseung realized he couldn’t keep lying to himself about how he felt. There was something between you and him, something that was more than just friendship. More than just shared moments. And maybe that was what scared him the most.

But for now, he didn’t want to overthink it. He didn’t want to analyze the situation or try to make sense of something that didn’t need to be explained.

For once, he just wanted to hear your voice again.

The next day, Heeseung woke up to his phone buzzing, the bright morning light filtering through the blinds. The events of last night were still fresh in his mind—more than he cared to admit. He couldn’t stop thinking about that phone call. You were still on his mind, in that odd, unexpected way.

It wasn’t like him to care about someone like that. But here he was, wondering how your voice could be so easy to listen to, how something as small as a text or call from you could have him feeling all kinds of things he wasn’t prepared for.

He glanced at the clock—just after noon. Normally, he would still be in bed, lounging with no plans, letting the day slip by. But today, something was different. The thought of calling you felt like an impulse he couldn’t ignore anymore.

Before he could overthink it, he grabbed his phone and tapped on your contact.

It rang once. Twice.

“Hey,” he said when you picked up, his voice a little raspy. “It’s me.”

There was a brief pause before you answered. “Hey, you. What’s up? It’s still early for you.”

He rubbed his face, still half asleep. “Yeah, just woke up… couldn’t sleep last night.”

“Oh, really?” You sounded surprised, your voice light. “What kept you up?”

He ran a hand through his hair, leaning back against the wall. “I don’t know… just stuff. Can’t really explain it.” He let out a soft sigh, realizing how little sense that made. “I’ve been thinking a lot.”

“About what?” you asked, and Heeseung could almost hear the curiosity in your voice.

He hesitated, unsure how to explain what was happening in his head. “I don’t really know. Just… things. It’s nothing. Whatever.” He waved his hand in the air as if you could see him through the phone.

“Okay…” you replied, then added, “So, what’s going on? You feeling alright?”

There was something about the way you said it, like you genuinely cared. And it made Heeseung uncomfortable, in the way that the truth always did. He scratched the back of his neck and exhaled, still unsure how to phrase it.

“I was wondering,” he started, voice trailing off. “If you, uh, wanted to hang out or something. I don’t know… like… do you want to get some coffee or whatever?”

There was a long pause on the other end, and Heeseung immediately regretted asking. He was being an idiot, right? Why would you want to spend time with him?

Then you spoke, your voice surprised, but also a little amused. “Wait, hold on. You… want to hang out with me? That’s a first.”

Heeseung’s face flushed slightly, a mix of annoyance and embarrassment creeping up on him. He rubbed his temple, trying to hide the fact that his heart had skipped a beat. “Yeah, yeah. I mean, it’s not a big deal. I just thought… I don’t know, it’d be cool.”

You chuckled softly, and Heeseung couldn’t tell if it was a good laugh or one of those teasing ones. But he didn’t mind, for some reason. “Alright, alright,” you said after a moment. “I’m down. I guess I’ll meet you in an hour at the park near the beach? We can grab some coffee afterward.”

Heeseung exhaled in relief, trying to hide the fact that he was more excited than he should’ve been. “Sounds good,” he said casually. “I’ll see you there.”

After ending the call, Heeseung leaned back against the wall, staring at his phone for a moment. That was easy, he thought. Why was he overthinking it so much? Hanging out with you didn’t feel as weird as he imagined.

As he moved to get ready, he realized that it didn’t matter what his reasons were. He just wanted to spend time with you.

So, maybe it was a first. But it definitely wouldn’t be the last.

The late afternoon sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm, golden glow over the beach. Heeseung and you had made your way down to the shore, where you laid out a picnic mat, the soft sound of waves crashing against the sand filling the air. The sky above was a clear canvas, fading into shades of pink and orange as the day began to wind down. It was peaceful, calming—everything that Seoul was not.

You sat cross-legged on the mat, your hair flowing in the breeze as you nibbled on some snacks you’d brought along. Heeseung had settled beside you, his eyes initially drawn to the vast horizon, but his gaze would inevitably return to you. You were so at ease, so calm. It felt different from anything he was used to back in Seoul. There, everything moved so fast—life was a blur of people, noise, and fleeting connections. But here, with you, there was something real. Something still and genuine.

Heeseung leaned back on his elbows, watching as you hummed lightly to yourself, your eyes lost in thought as you gazed at the ocean. The way you were so comfortable with everything around you, so familiar with the peace of this place, made him feel out of place. He shifted on the mat, moving a little closer to you, not really sure why. But something about you, about this town, felt like it was chipping away at his walls.

He cleared his throat, breaking the comfortable silence. “So, tell me, do you do this all the time? Come here and just… chill?”

You turned to him, a small smile on your lips. “Yeah, I guess so. Busan’s pretty laid-back. It’s kind of hard not to just enjoy the calm every now and then, right?”

Heeseung nodded, though his expression remained a little guarded. “I get it,” he muttered, his voice low. “It’s just… different, you know? I’m used to the noise, the chaos.”

You looked over at him, raising an eyebrow. “And you don’t like it here?”

Heeseung hesitated for a moment before answering. “I don’t know. It’s just… too quiet sometimes.”

You chuckled, and for a moment, he felt like maybe he could let his guard down just a little. But then, without warning, his eyes caught yours, and there was something in the way you looked at him that made his heart skip a beat. He didn’t know why, but he suddenly found himself leaning in, just a little closer, and before he knew what was happening, his lips brushed against yours in a soft, sudden kiss.

It wasn’t planned. It wasn’t something he expected. It just… happened. And for that brief moment, everything around him—the ocean, the beach, the sun—faded away, and all he could focus on was you.

When he pulled away, he noticed the shock in your eyes. You were frozen for a moment, clearly caught off guard, and Heeseung’s heart dropped. What did that mean? Was it just an impulsive thing? Or something else? His mind raced, but he didn’t have time to process it before you stood up, your face flushed with surprise.

“I… I have to go,” you said quickly, your voice shaky as you took a few steps back. “I… I’ll see you later.”

Before Heeseung could say anything, you turned and started running down the beach, your footsteps quick and light on the sand. His breath caught in his throat as he watched you go, the confusion eating at him. What the hell just happened?

He sat there for a moment, staring after you. His heart was still pounding in his chest, and his mind was a blur of thoughts. What was that kiss? Why did it feel so… different from everything else in his life? And why did he feel like a total idiot?

He looked at the spot where you had been sitting, the picnic mat still partially sprawled out on the sand. The gentle breeze tugged at the corners, and Heeseung couldn’t shake the feeling that something had just shifted. He hadn’t expected to feel anything—especially not like this—but he did. And it left him feeling vulnerable in a way he wasn’t used to.

After a few moments, he stood up, brushing the sand off his pants. His mind was still racing. Why did he kiss you? What was that about? And why did it feel like the world had suddenly gotten a little bit quieter, even after you’d left?

He stood still for a while longer, trying to make sense of everything, but there was no answer. Only the waves crashing in the distance, the soft sand under his feet, and the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him.

As the sun began to set, Heeseung couldn’t help but wonder if this would be the last time things felt simple. Maybe that was the way it always went with him—he was used to chaos, to distractions, to the fast-paced life of Seoul. But now, in this peaceful town, with you, things felt different. Too different. And it scared him.

It was another restless night. Heeseung lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling, the familiar weight of uncertainty pressing on him. The thoughts wouldn’t stop. His mind kept replaying the moment you ran off from the beach after that kiss. The look on your face—shocked, confused, maybe even a little hurt—lingered in his mind. It wasn’t supposed to happen like that. He didn’t plan it. But he couldn’t ignore the way his heart had raced the second his lips met yours, and how everything felt so… right, despite the chaos in his head.

He turned over, grabbing his phone from the nightstand, his thumb hovering over your contact. He wanted to hear your voice. He wanted to know if you were okay, if everything was alright after that awkward moment. He needed to know.

But when he hit the call button and waited, the phone rang… and rang… and rang.

He furrowed his brow, his thumb tapping impatiently on the screen. The ringing continued, and he frowned deeper. Normally, you always picked up. Even if it was late, you would answer, offering him some kind of comfort, even if it was just through a simple greeting.

But not tonight.

Heeseung bit his lip, frustration building in his chest. What if something happened? What if you were mad? What if something was wrong? Why wasn’t you picking up? You always did.

The silence in his room felt suffocating. The weight of his thoughts, his confusion, his stupid mistake on the beach all added up in the heavy silence. He couldn’t lie to himself. He was worried. Not just because of the kiss, but because the thought of you being upset—or worse, hurt—bothered him more than it should have.

The ringing stopped, and the voicemail greeting came on, the sound of your voice filling his ears. “Hey, it’s me. Leave a message!”

He didn’t even bother leaving a message. What could he say? He wasn’t sure what he was feeling himself.

He hung up abruptly, frustration bubbling up inside him.

Without thinking, he shoved his phone back into his pocket, threw off the covers, and got out of bed. He had to do something. He couldn’t just lie there, wondering, waiting for an answer that didn’t come.

He quietly slipped out of the room, careful not to wake up his grandmother, who was probably already fast asleep. The house was eerily quiet. His footsteps were muffled on the hardwood floor as he crept toward the door, feeling the weight of the decision pressing down on him.

He was being ridiculous.

But he couldn’t shake the feeling in his chest, that gnawing, aching feeling that something was wrong. He didn’t know why he felt it, but he did. And now, standing outside in the cool night air, he found himself walking down the street toward where you lived.

It was late, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t just sit around. He couldn’t let his stupid feelings take over his head, especially not after he’d already messed things up.

As he walked, his mind raced. What if you were still angry? What if you didn’t want to see him? He clenched his fists at his sides, pushing those thoughts away. This wasn’t about that. This was about making sure you were okay. Because, damn it, he cared.

The streets of Busan were quiet, the only sounds being his footsteps and the occasional rustling of leaves in the breeze. His heart pounded in his chest, and with each step, the feeling of anxiety grew. What the hell was he even doing?

When he finally reached your place, he paused at the gate, looking up at the dark windows. He felt like an idiot. But there he was, standing in front of your house, unsure of what to do next. Should he knock? Should he just go home?

The thought of just turning around and leaving made his stomach churn. He couldn’t. Not when he was this unsure of what was going on between you two.

With a deep breath, Heeseung made up his mind. He wasn’t going to leave until he knew you were okay. And that meant doing something he wasn’t used to: admitting that he cared.

He stood there for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest. Should he just text you? No, he had to hear your voice. He had to know you were safe, that you weren’t upset, that you hadn’t disappeared from his life for good.

With one last glance at the still-dark windows, Heeseung walked up to the front door and stood there, his hand hovering over the doorknob, wondering if he was making a huge mistake. But, in that moment, the only thing he could think of was you. And the only thing he wanted was for you to be okay.

The soft creak of the door echoed through the night as you opened it, and Heeseung froze, his heartbeat louder than ever. You stood there in your side braids, eyes tired but wide awake, a sight he never thought he’d find himself looking at in the middle of the night. He was at a loss for words, but there you were, standing in front of him.

His mouth opened, but no words came out. It wasn’t until you broke the silence that Heeseung realized how much he had been holding back.

“I—” You started, your voice quiet but steady. “I’m sorry for… running off earlier. I just… overreacted.”

Heeseung blinked, caught off guard by how calm you sounded. He wanted to say something, but he just stood there, unsure of how to express himself.

You looked down for a moment, gathering your thoughts, then met his eyes again. “I’ve never kissed anyone before,” you admitted. “And I guess I wasn’t ready for it. It… kind of threw me off, but I shouldn’t have run away like that. I’m really sorry.”

Heeseung’s heart pounded. He could feel a weight lifting off his chest, but at the same time, the confusion remained. You… hadn’t kissed anyone? That made everything even more complicated. And yet, the way you spoke—so sincere, so vulnerable—only made him want to reach out to you more.

You hesitated. “I do feel the same way. I just… didn’t know how to react.”

The words hung in the air between you both. The same way. Heeseung’s chest tightened at the thought. He had been so confused about his feelings toward you, but hearing that, hearing you say you felt the same—it was like a dam breaking.

He stepped closer, his voice shaky but genuine, “It’s okay. I didn’t know how to handle it either. I… I wasn’t expecting this. But, I really like you. I do. I’ve never met anyone like you before.” His breath hitched as he continued, “You’re… pure. And beautiful. In a way that’s different from anything I’ve ever known.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, and Heeseung could feel the weight of his words settling in the air. He had never said anything like that to anyone, especially not like this. But for some reason, it felt right. He had never felt this drawn to someone before.

You took a slow breath, processing what he said. The silence stretched between you, neither of you knowing exactly what to say next. Heeseung looked at you—really looked at you—and everything that had been swirling in his mind began to make sense. He didn’t know how he felt about being in Busan. He didn’t know how he felt about his past. But he knew, without a doubt, that right now, in this moment, you were the one thing he didn’t want to lose.

Finally, you spoke again, your voice soft and a little hesitant, but still sincere. “I… I guess that’s why I ran off earlier. I’ve never been in this situation before. You’re so… different from everyone I know. And it’s just… it’s scary, Heeseung.”

Heeseung’s heart clenched at the vulnerability in your voice. He didn’t expect this from you, and it made him admire you even more. You weren’t playing games; you were being real. And that, for some reason, scared him, too.

“I understand,” Heeseung murmured. “I really do.”

He stepped even closer, his hand slowly reaching for yours. For a brief moment, he was scared to make a move, but then, he couldn’t stop himself. “But I want to figure this out. With you. If you’ll let me.”

There was a long pause, and for a moment, Heeseung was convinced you were going to back away. But then you nodded, your gaze softening as you looked at him.

“I’d like that,” you said quietly.

Heeseung smiled, his heart finally easing. Maybe this was it. Maybe this was something real. He didn’t know exactly where it would go, but for the first time in a long time, he felt like he could breathe.

“I never thought I’d meet someone like you,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

You tilted your head slightly, your eyes still wide but soft. “Someone like me?”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice steadying. “Someone... Different. In a good way.”

You blinked, the tiniest smile creeping onto your face as you looked at him. Heeseung didn’t know what to do with himself anymore. All the things he had been feeling, all the questions he had about why you mattered so much, all of it felt like it was making sense. And he didn’t want to let that go.

“I’ve never met anyone like you either,” you said softly, your voice almost shy now.

Heeseung felt a warmth spread through him at your words. This… this was unexpected. He wasn’t sure what he was doing, but he knew he didn’t want to lose this. He didn’t want to lose you.

There was another pause, and you cleared your throat. “So… do you wanna come in?”

He blinked at you, still in a daze from everything that had just happened. “Yeah. I… I’d like that.”

Heeseung stepped inside, his heart still racing from the conversation. The cool night air felt a lot warmer now, and everything around him seemed to fade into the background. All that mattered was that you were standing in front of him, looking at him with a mixture of curiosity and uncertainty—just as confused as he was, but somehow more composed. It was comforting and disorienting all at once.

You closed the door behind him with a soft click, and there was a brief silence as the two of you stood in the hallway, unsure of what to do next.

“So, uh,” Heeseung finally broke the silence, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “What now?”

You let out a small laugh, still standing near the door. “I’m… I’m not sure either. I wasn’t exactly expecting you to come here in the middle of the night.”

Heeseung smirked, but it wasn’t teasing this time. It was more of a nervous, unsure kind of smile. “Yeah, I wasn’t expecting myself to either.”

The both of you fell into another pause, neither of you quite knowing how to fill the space. But, for once, it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was just… quiet. But a good kind of quiet.

You broke the silence once more, this time more seriously. “You know, I’ve never really been in a situation like this before. I mean, I don’t even know what this is exactly. But I can’t ignore how I feel either.”

Heeseung nodded slowly. “Same. I don’t know what to call this either. But I like it. I don’t know why, but I do.”

You looked at him, your eyes thoughtful. “I don’t think we need to figure it out right away. I’m still trying to figure out what I feel. But… I do like you, Heeseung.”

Heeseung felt something inside him soften at your words. He hadn’t been expecting to hear that. The uncertainty he had been carrying for so long seemed to melt away in that moment.

“I like you too,” he murmured, almost in disbelief. “I didn’t think I’d ever… feel this way. Especially not after everything I’ve been through.”

You smiled slightly, sensing the vulnerability in his voice. “What do you mean?”

Heeseung hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should share this side of himself. But something about you made him feel like he could. “Back home in Seoul, I never really connected with anyone like this. I’ve always been surrounded by people, but it was… shallow. I never really let anyone in. But with you… it’s different. You make me feel like I’m not just some… guy passing through.”

Your expression softened, and you stepped closer to him. “I think you’re more than that. You just have to let yourself see it.”

Heeseung couldn’t help but stare at you, his heart beating a little faster. “I never thought anyone would say that to me. Especially not you.”

“Well, now you know,” you said with a soft, teasing smile.

Heeseung felt a lump form in his throat. It was strange—he had never felt this way before, so exposed. But there was something about you that made him feel safe, even when everything else felt uncertain.

Without thinking, he took another step closer to you, his gaze locked on yours. “I want to be someone you can rely on. I don’t know what the future holds, but… I want to try.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, Heeseung wasn’t thinking about what he had left behind in Seoul, or how much he missed his old life. He was thinking about you, about this moment, about how much he wanted to make it last.

You smiled softly, your eyes reflecting something he couldn’t quite place. “We’ll figure it out together, Heeseung.”

And in that moment, he knew that whatever happened, he wasn’t alone anymore.

It had been a few days since everything changed between Heeseung and you. The late-night calls, the stolen kisses, and the soft, lingering moments shared in the quiet of Busan. Things had settled into a routine, though it was a new kind of routine neither of you had expected. Heeseung had slowly started warming up to the idea of being with you, and you—well, you were finding yourself getting more comfortable with him every day, even if you still got flustered by the smallest things.

Heeseung had invited you over to his room, a casual invitation that made your heart skip a beat. You hadn’t expected it, but you couldn’t turn it down. And here you were, standing in front of him, holding a bowl of instant ramen, the steam rising and filling the air with a comforting, familiar scent.

“Ramen again?” Heeseung asked with a small smile, clearly amused. “You’ve got a thing for this stuff, huh?”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “You’re the one who loves it. Don’t act like I’m the only one obsessed here.”

Heeseung chuckled and gestured for you to sit on his bed. You did so, placing the bowl of ramen in your hands, while Heeseung sat beside you. His eyes immediately found their way to you, and you could feel his gaze on you.

“What?” you asked, trying to brush it off, though you felt a flutter in your stomach from the way he was looking at you.

Heeseung didn’t immediately reply. He just stared at you, a small, almost shy smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You’re just so pretty right now.”

Your cheeks flushed instantly, and you quickly covered your face with your hands, trying to hide the warmth spreading across your skin. “I—stop it,” you stammered, your voice soft.

Heeseung gently took your hands in his, pulling them away from your face. His touch was light, almost teasing as he said, “Move them. Let me see your face.”

You hesitated for a moment, but when he didn’t let go, you slowly lowered your hands. The way he was looking at you made your heart race. He was so close, and you could feel the heat between you both.

“So cute,” he added, his voice low and sincere. The word made your heart skip another beat, and you couldn’t help but look away, a soft laugh escaping your lips.

“Stop it,” you mumbled, trying to hide the embarrassment you felt.

Heeseung just smiled, his gaze still soft but undeniably affectionate. He leaned in slightly, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “I mean it, though. You really are.”

Your heart fluttered, your hands still in his, and you couldn’t help but smile. There was something about the way he made you feel—something that made you forget about all the awkwardness you usually felt around guys, something that made you feel special in a way you never had before.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you finally said, your voice quieter, more confident now that you weren’t so embarrassed by his words.

Heeseung smirked, leaning back against the bed with a playful gleam in his eyes. “Well, I’m glad you think so. But I think you might be biased.”

You shrugged. “Maybe, but I’m still right.”

Heeseung chuckled softly, shaking his head. “You’re really something else, Y/n.”

For a moment, the two of you just sat there, laughing quietly, the comfortable silence stretching between you. But in that silence, something was shifting again. Something you both had begun to recognize but hadn’t quite put into words yet.

“I still can’t believe you told your grandma about us,” you teased, trying to shift the focus to something else to avoid getting lost in the intensity of the moment.

Heeseung groaned, his face reddening slightly. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

You grinned, nudging him with your elbow. “Nope. But she was cute about it, though.”

“Cute? She was totally shocked! She started teasing me right away.”

“Well, I’m sure she’s happy for you,” you said, your smile softening as you spoke. “She seems like she knows what’s best for you.”

“Yeah,” Heeseung said, his tone quiet, more thoughtful now. “I think she does.”

As the night wore on, the two of you fell into a quiet rhythm, sharing food, talking about everything and nothing, and just enjoying each other’s company. Heeseung had started to open up in a way he hadn’t before, and even though he still had his moments of being cold and distant, you could see the change in him.

And maybe—just maybe—you were starting to realize that you didn’t need all the answers right away. You didn’t need to label this, to rush into figuring out what was between you. All you needed was to enjoy the moments you had with him.

And, for once, that felt enough.

You didn’t notice how close he was until you felt his hand on your thigh, gently moving it up and down. Your heart skipped a beat at the gesture, and you looked up at him. His gaze was intense, his eyes fixated on you.

He leaned in a little closer, his face just inches away from yours. “Y/n,” he whispered, his voice low and rough.

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart racing. You couldn’t look away from him, his presence overwhelming in the best way possible.

Heeseung moved even closer, his hand still on your thigh, his touch causing goose bumps to form on your skin. His breath was warm against your cheek as he spoke. “Can I…?”

You didn’t need him to finish the question to know what he was asking, but you still nodded, your heart racing even faster. He leaned in even more, his hand still on your thigh, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

And then, he kissed you.

It was soft, tentative at first—his lips lightly brushing against yours. And then, he deepened the kiss, his hand on your thigh moving to the small of your back, pulling you closer to him. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you melted into the kiss, your own hands reaching up to touch him, your fingers running through his hair.

The world seemed to fall away as you two kissed, the intensity between you growing stronger with each passing second. Heeseung’s arms wrapped around you, holding you tightly against him, and you couldn’t help but lean into him, craving the closeness.

The kiss slowed as he pulled back, resting his forehead against yours. His eyes were still fixed on you, and you could see the mix of tenderness and desire in his gaze.

“Y/n,” he whispered your name, his voice thick with emotion. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

You felt your cheeks heat up under his gaze, your heart fluttering at his confession. You could feel the warmth of his body against yours, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your chest.

He kissed you again, a little harder this time, his hands moving to your hips, lifting you onto his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him back with equal fervor.

As the kiss deepened, Heeseung’s hands began to roam, exploring your body, his touch leaving a trail of heat on your skin. His fingers found the hem of your shirt, creeping under it, his touch feather-light yet leaving you breathless.

You gasped at the feel of his hands on your bare skin, and the sound only made Heeseung deepen the kiss further. His hands continued their journey up your sides, tracing the curves of your body and leaving you wanting more.

Finally, Heeseung broke the kiss, taking a moment to catch his breath. He rested his forehead against yours once more, his hands still on your waist, his grip firm but gentle.

He looked at you, his eyes searching your face, as if memorizing every detail. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his voice tinged with amazement and desire.

Heeseung's hand stayed on your thigh, his touch growing bolder as he raised an eyebrow, tugging on your shirt.

Your heart pounded in your chest, your mind swirling with anticipation and nervousness. You knew what he was asking, and the fact that he was asking instead of assuming made your heart flutter even more.

You nodded, giving him a small, shaky smile. "Yeah...go ahead."

His hand moved slowly, leaving your thigh and making its way to the hem of your shirt. His fingers brushed against your skin, sending tingles up your spine. He looked at you, his eyes seeking permission, and you nodded again, your breath catching in your throat.

Heiseung lifted the hem of your shirt, his hands exploring the newly exposed skin. His touch was light, his eyes tracing the curves and lines of your body.

You couldn't help yourself, your fingers tugging on the fabric of his shirt, a desperate, silent plea.

Heeseung chuckled lowly, that sound sending a shiver down your spine. "Eager, are we?" he teased.

His hands stilled as he looked down at you, his eyes filled with a mix of mockery and desire. But then he shrugged off his shirt, his muscles flexing as he discarded it on the floor.

You couldn't help but stare at his bare chest, the sight of him taking your breath away. His skin was golden in the low light, the planes of his chest and abdominal muscles well-defined and sculpted.

Heeseung caught you staring, a smirk on his face. "See something you like?" he teased, his voice low and rough.

You blushed, trying to look away but finding yourself unable to. Your fingers itched to touch him, to explore the smooth skin of his chest. You could feel the heat radiating from him, drawing you closer.

"Shut up," you pout, your voice barely above a whisper. "You know I do."

Heeseung's smirk widened as he leaned in closer, his gaze fixed on you. "Is that so?" he said, the teasing edge in his voice causing your cheeks to heat up even more.

Before you could answer, he pulled you in closer, pressing soft trail of kisses onto your neck. “Oh god, Hee-“ you sighed as you tilted your head to give him better access.

Heeseung's mouth found a sensitive spot on your neck, and you couldn't help but sigh again. "Mmm," he murmured against your skin, his breath hot.

His hands were on your waist, pulling you even closer to him. You could feel the heat radiating off him, his body pressed against yours as he continued to kiss and nibble at your neck.

Feeling the tension between you growing, an uncontrollable need started building up inside you, like an itch begging to be scratched.

Heeseung's mouth was still on your neck, his kisses becoming more urgent, his hands still firmly holding your waist.

Unable to resist, you started moving, your hips grinding against him, trying to ease the tension. You could hear his breath catch as you moved, and he pulled away from your neck to look at you.

“Fuck,” he groaned into your ear as he leaned his head against the headboard. “Y/n I’m going to cum like this if you keep moving like this.”

You felt your cheeks getting hot, not realizing the effect you had on him. “I-I’m sorry,” you replied sheepishly, looking down. “It’s my first time and—“

“No, no,” he interrupted as he tilts your chin back up. “Hey, look at me. You’re doing great.”

Heeseung’s eyes were intense as he looked at you, the desire in them only growing stronger. "Don’t apologize," he said, his voice a little hoarse. "It’s perfect, you’re perfect. Just keep going. I want to feel you."

His words were like an electric shock through your body, your skin tingling all over. You couldn’t help but shiver at the intensity in his gaze, your heart pounding in your chest.

Heeseung leaned in again, his gaze still intense as he closed the distance between your lips. This time, the kiss was urgent and needy, his lips moving against yours with a hunger that mirrored your own.

Your bodies were pressed hard against against each other, the heat between you growing even hotter. Your hands were in his hair, fingers tugging at the soft strands, while his hands were on your hips, holding you tightly against him.

Heeseung’s hands moved to your back, his fingers trailing up your spine, leaving a trail of heat as they went. They found the clasp of your bra, his touch gentle but sure as he unclips it. He pulled back for just a moment, his eyes locking with yours, as if asking permission.

You felt exposed under his gaze but nodded, your breath hitching in your throat as he slid the straps of your bra down your arms, discarding it on the floor.

Heeseung's eyes darkened as he looked at you, his teeth biting down on his lower lip. You could feel his arousal growing stronger, his body tensing under your touch.

His hands started roaming, one hand moving up your back, the other tracing down your side to your hip. He pulled you closer, his breath hot against your skin as he moved his lips to your throat, leaving a trail of kisses down to your collarbone.

Heeseung's hand moved down to your chest, his touch light but possessive as he gently squeezed your tits, his palm cupping it. His fingers started to move in slow, circular motions, as he took in your reaction. His gaze darkened with desire as he watched the way you responded to his touch, his expression stoic but his eyes alive with heat.

You could feel the tension building like a coiled spring, the need for more growing with each passing moment. You looked up at him, your gaze heavy-lidded and filled with desire.

"Heeseung," you murmured, your voice a little breathless. "Please...I want-"

Heeseung silenced you with a kiss, his lips covering yours in an urgent, heated kiss. He understood what you wanted, and he was more than willing to give it to you.

He kissed you deeply, his tongue seeking yours, as his hand continued to move over your boobs, gently squeezing and teasing your sensitive skin.

Heeseung gently pushed you onto the bed, his body hovering over you, his eyes locked on yours. He was taking control, and you were more than willing to let him.

He leaned down, his lips finding your neck again as his hands started to move, skimming down your sides, tracing the curves of your body. You felt him reach the hem of your skirt, his fingers teasing at the edge.

He looked at you, his eyes smoldering, asking permission once again.

You nodded, your body trembling with anticipation, your breath coming in short gasps. Heeseung smirked, his fingers slipping under the hem of your skirt, slowly pulling it up off your legs, the cool air hitting your skin making you shiver.

As the skirt came off, Heeseung’s hand lingered on your thigh, his touch light but possessive. He looked at you again, his eyes roaming over your body, taking in every inch of you.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. “Heeseung please,” you whined, and that was all he needed as he pushed your panties aside, shoving in two of his fingers inside your core, making you let out a loud moan.

Your hands gripped the bedsheets, your mouth forming an ‘o’ shape. “Hee- feels so good,” you said shakily. He smirks at your reaction, but focused more on your pleasure. “Yeah? Do you want me to add another?” He replied, his voice lowered.

"Yes," you nodded, your voice barely above a whisper. "Please, Heeseung, I want more."

He didn't hesitate, inserting another finger with ease. The motion was so fluid, it sent a shiver down your spine. "You feel so wet for me," he murmured, his voice dark with desire. He pressed closer to you, his body hot against yours, as he continued to move his fingers inside you.

As he moved his fingers, he kept searching for that one spot inside of you - the one that would make your body quiver and shake with pleasure. He curled his fingers, sliding them in and out of you, searching for that one spot inside you that would make you cry out in pleasure.

With every movement, he was getting closer and closer to finding it. "Relax," he whispered, "let me make you feel good."

He slowly withdrew his fingers, his gaze fixed on you as he replaced them with his mouth. He started with gentle kisses, his lips moving over your skin, making you shiver in anticipation.

And then his tongue replaced his fingers, slipping inside of you, exploring you with practiced ease. He knew what he was doing, and it was driving you wild. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, the muscles in his back tenses.

You covered your mouth with your hand as you looked at Heeseung in between your legs. Something you never thought was possible. “I’m so close,” you whimpered, bucking your hips up unintentionally.

He didn’t stop, if anything his pace quickened, his hands gripping your thighs. “Cum for me baby,” he said, his voice was low and rough. He locked eyes with you, his gaze filled with so much desire it was hard to look away.

You could feel your body coiling tighter and tighter. He knew exactly what to do, exactly what to say, and it was too much. “Please Heeseung,” you pleaded, your head falling back onto the pillows. “Please I can’t-“

“Yes you can princess,” he murmured, giving you just enough friction to drive you wild without quite sending you over the edge. He continued working you with single-minded intensity, his mouth and hands working in the perfect sync to bring you to the very edge.

“H-hee, please no more, c-can’t take it anymore...” you stuttered, your body arching off the bed as your fingers tightened in heeseung’s hair. His mouth, a warm, wet heaven between your legs, his tongue moving in fast, deliberate circles that drive you closer to the edge. But your pleas fall on deaf ears, a smirk playing on his lips as he pulls away just long enough to let your trembling thighs fall apart once more.

Your skin is flushed and sticky with sweat, your heart racing as he kissed the inside of your thigh, leaving a trail of pecks that makes you shiver. “you can take it, baby, you know you can,” he praised, the sound of his voice sending another shockwave through your body. you want to argue, but all that comes out is a whine as his mouth finds your clit again, sucking gently.

His tongue swirls around the sensitive bud, the pressure just shy of painful. Your muscles clench around his fingers, which are buried deep within you, moving in a rhythm that matches his mouth. It is overwhelming, the sensation of being so close to the peak again, especially when your body is so sensitive from your lack of experience. Your toes curl into the bedsheets, and you bite down on your lower lip, trying to stifle the moan that wants to escape.

He paused, looking up at you with those bambi eyes. “Moan for me, baby. I wanna hear how much you love this,” he whispered, his voice thick with desire. your cheeks burn with a mix of pleasure and embarrassment, but you nod, feeling the heat of his gaze on you.

His mouth returned to your clit, his tongue flicking against it rapidly. your eyes roll back in your head and had you seeing stars. You can't help but let out a high pitched moan. he chuckles against your sensitive folds, the vibration sending sparks of sensation shooting through you. Your hips rock upward, seeking more, but he keeps his rhythm, not giving you the full force you crave just yet.

His fingers inside you started to move faster, curling and stroking, hitting that spot deep within you that makes your legs quiver. you moaned louder now, unable to hold it back. your hands tighten in his hair, urging him closer, but he's unfazed, maintaining his relentless pace. “Please, yes, right there,” you panted, your voice hoarse from all the moaning and begging.

His eyes locked onto yours, the smirk on his face growing wider. “you look so beautiful like this,” he said, his voice filled with admiration. Your heart swells with love for him, making the pleasure he’s giving you even more intense. He added a third finger, stretching you just enough to make you gasp. Your body starts to tremble uncontrollably, the tension coiling tighter with every passing moment.

You felt the orgasm building again. your nails dig into his scalp, the pain mixing with the pleasure. Heeseung’s eyes darken with desire as he watches your reaction, his own breathing heavy and ragged. he knows he's pushing you to the edge, and it only spurs him on. Your moans become more frequent, filling the room with the sweet sound of your release.

His tongue presses harder against your clit, his fingers pumping in and out of you with a fervent pace. your body starts to convulse, muscles tightening around his fingers. The pressure builds, and just when you think you can't take anymore, it hits. with a cry, you squirt all over his face, the warm liquid spilling out of you. his eyes widen in surprise, but he doesn’t miss a beat, lapping it up eagerly. Embarrassment hit as you realize what you had just done, but fades with ease as he handled it nonchalantly. The feeling is so intense, you can't help but thrash on the bed, your legs shaking uncontrollably.

Your eyes popped open, watching him with a mix of shock and arousal. “Yes, baby, so good,” he murmured, his voice muffled by your folds. your chest heaves with every breath you take, your heart hammering in your ears. he licks you clean, his movements slowing as your orgasm subsides. then, he looks up, his nose and chin covered in your juices.

His eyes sparkle with mischief and satisfaction. “you taste so good,” he said, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. the sight of him like that, so raw and hungry for you, sends a fresh wave of desire through your body. you can’t help but feel a bit smug, knowing you’ve driven him to this point.

"You make me insane, you know that?" he murmured, his voice rough. "I can't get enough of you." He leaned down, his body heat melding with yours, his arms caging you in. his lips found yours again, and the kiss was hot and needy, a reflection of the hunger that was still coursing through him.

Heeseung smirked, his gaze fixed on you. "You're doing so good for your first, you know?" he said, his voice thick with desire. You look away from him, muttering “no I’m not,” but you know that hes right. In one fluid motion, he unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them off, his boxers following suit.

He was now totally naked in front of you, and the sight was enough to take your breath away. His body was toned and muscular. Every contour and dip and ridge seemed perfectly defined. Every inch of him was beautiful. He then opened his side table drawer and pulled out the box of condoms. “I told you I’d have use of them somehow,” he smirked while you scoffed in disbelief.

He laughs at your reaction as he positions his cock in front of your leaking pussy. He could see your hands gripping on the sheets as his cock is already half way in. “Heeseung-“ you whimpered, your breath shaken.

"Just relax," he whispered, his voice soft now. "I'll go slow. I want you to feel good, okay?" He was being tender, his eyes fixed on your every expression.

He moved slowly, his hands on your hips to help guide him deeper into you. Inch by inch, he filled you, the stretch sending waves of pleasure through you. He paused for a moment, giving you time to adjust to the sensation. His eyes never strayed away from you.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he murmured, his voice strained. You could hear the need in his words, the sheer effort it took for him to hold back. You knew he was trying to be careful, trying to be gentle, but you could feel the hunger in him, the need to take you, to claim you.

“Relax for me, baby. I’ve got you.” He leaned down, his mouth finding your neck, his lips trailing kisses across your skin. He nipped and sucked just below your ear, knowing exactly the effect he had on you.

His hand slowly reached down, finding your clit, and he started rubbing small, soft circles that set your body on fire. His mouth moved lower, his lips tracing a trail across your collarbone, then your chest, finding your nipple and swirling his tongue around it. “I'm gonna make you feel so good,” he promised, his voice muffled against your skin. His words sent a shiver down your spine, the promise in them making your heart race.

You looked up at him, your body trembling with pleasure, and managed to say through uneven breaths. "Please... I.. I can't take it anymore."

He felt your body relax under his touch, and he knew you were ready for more. His eyes darkened with lust as he looked down at you. “Yeah?” he asked, his voice low and rough. “Want me to fuck you harder like the slut you are?”

You could only nod, your words failing you. He didn't wait for a verbal response, his body already in motion, his grip on your hips firm and possessive. He began a steady rhythm, his thrusts growing faster and rougher with each passing minute. “You like it like this, don't you?” he murmured against your skin, his teeth grazing your earlobe. “You like letting me fill your virgin cunt up?” The ways he’s saying it makes you whimper. You’ve never seen him like this.

Loud and rhythmic, the wet slapping noises filled the room, punctuating every movement with a sharp slap. It was the only sound that broke the deep silence, except for the occasional gasp or whimper from inside the room.

You could feel the tension building, the coil in your belly wound so tight it was almost painful. Heeseung’s breaths were coming in short, quick gasps, his rhythm growing more and more irregular. “You close, princess?”

You could only nod again, your words failing you once more. He knew he was close too, the tension and need in him palpable. "Cum for me, baby," he murmured, his lips right against your ear. "I want to hear you."

That was all it took, the sound of his voice so close, the dirty words in your ear. You felt the coil snap inside you, pleasure exploding through you, so intense you couldn't help but cry out.

He followed you over the edge, his body rigid as he came, his grip on you tight. He panted in your ear, trying to catch his breath.

"You did so good y/n," he murmured, his voice rough.

"Yeah?" you replied, your voice soft and shaky. "You really think so?" You looked at him, your cheeks flushed, your eyes wide and vulnerable.

He leaned in, giving you a deep, deep kiss. It was tender and loving, his lips moving slowly against yours. He held you tight, cradling your face gently in his hands.

"Of course," he whispered when he finally pulled away, his eyes fixed on you. "you were perfect."

You woke up to the soft glow of the morning sun slipping through the curtains, casting a golden hue over the room. Your body felt heavy, warm from sleep, but something else made you freeze. A weight beside you. Slow, steady breathing.

Your heart pounded.

Heeseung.

The realization hit you all at once.

Carefully, you turned your head, barely daring to move. He was lying next to you, his bare shoulders peeking out from beneath the sheets, his messy hair falling into his face. His features were relaxed, peaceful—so different from the teasing smirks and sharp remarks you were used to.

Heat rushed to your face as last night replayed in your mind. The way his lips felt against yours, the way he touched you like you were the only thing that mattered. The way you had wanted him just as much.

Oh god.

What were you supposed to do now?

Your fingers clutched the blanket, pulling it up higher as if that could somehow shield you from reality. You had never been in this situation before—waking up beside someone like this. Did you get up and leave? Pretend to still be asleep? Say something?

Before you could decide, Heeseung shifted beside you, his breathing changing. A few seconds later, his eyes fluttered open, hazy with sleep as they landed on you.

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

Then, a lazy smirk tugged at his lips. “Morning.”

Your throat felt dry. “Morning.”

A beat of silence.

“You look like you’re about to freak out,” he murmured, his voice rough from sleep.

“I—I’m not,” you lied, though your stiff posture said otherwise.

Heeseung chuckled, rubbing his eyes before looking at you again, his gaze softer now. “Regretting it?”

You swallowed hard, lips parting, but no words came out. Did you regret it? No. But did you know what to do now? Also no.

Seeing your hesitation, Heeseung sighed, propping himself up on his elbow. “Relax. It’s just me.”

That was the problem. It was him. Heeseung, the guy you never thought you’d fall for, yet somehow had.

“I just…” you hesitated, finally meeting his gaze. “I don’t know what happens now.”

Heeseung studied you for a moment before reaching out, gently brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. The casual intimacy of it sent a shiver down your spine.

“We do whatever we want,” he said simply. “No pressure.”

No pressure.

You exhaled slowly, nodding. Maybe this didn’t have to be so terrifying.

Heeseung grinned, dropping back onto the pillow. “Good. Now come back here, ‘cause I’m not ready to get up yet.”

You hesitated, but when he tugged you closer, you let yourself relax—just a little—letting the warmth between you melt away the uncertainty.

As Heeseung lay beside you, staring up at the ceiling, he couldn’t shake the confusion settling in his chest.

He liked you. That much was obvious. The way he looked for you in every crowd, the way his mood instantly lifted whenever you were around, the way he always found himself wanting to call you late at night just to hear your voice.

But how did this happen? How did he, a guy who once lived for parties, hook-ups, and never staying in one place too long, end up here—in bed with someone like you?

You were his complete opposite.

Soft-spoken. Kind. Pure.

The kind of person who spent their time helping others, who believed in soulmates, who didn’t just give their heart away to anyone.

So how the hell did someone like you fall for someone like him?

Heeseung turned his head slightly, watching as you stared at the sheets, lost in your own thoughts. Your fingers fidgeted with the blanket, lips pressed together in that way you always did when you were nervous.

Were you regretting this?

The thought made something twist in his chest.

Because for the first time in his life, Heeseung didn’t want this to be just another night he could forget.

And that scared him.

His whole life, he had avoided anything that tied him down. Commitment, feelings, relationships—it all seemed pointless to him. But now, here you were, tangled up in his sheets, making him question everything.

His gaze drifted down to where your bare shoulder peeked from beneath the blanket. The marks he had left on your skin were still there, proof that last night had been real. Proof that you were his, even if just for a moment.

You shifted slightly, and he tore his eyes away before you could catch him staring.

“…What are you thinking about?” your voice was soft, hesitant.

Heeseung exhaled through his nose, running a hand through his messy hair. “Honestly? Trying to figure out how the hell we ended up here.”

You let out a small laugh, but there was uncertainty in your eyes. “Yeah… me too.”

Silence settled between you.

And then, before he could stop himself, Heeseung muttered, “But I do know one thing.”

You looked at him, waiting.

He hesitated, feeling almost stupid for admitting it. But screw it.

“I like you,” he said, voice quieter now. “A lot.”

Your eyes widened slightly, and for a second, he thought maybe he had said the wrong thing. But then, slowly, your lips curled into the softest smile.

“I like you too, Heeseung.”

And just like that, some of the confusion faded.

Because maybe, even if it didn’t make sense, this—whatever it was between you—was real.

Heeseung never thought he’d say it, but as he lay there beside you, his fingers absentmindedly tracing circles on your wrist, the words slipped out before he could even think them through.

“Maybe I’ll stay in Busan.”

You blinked, turning your head to face him, eyes searching his as if you weren’t sure if he was joking.

“You?” you asked, almost in disbelief. “Stay here?”

Heeseung huffed a quiet laugh, staring up at the ceiling. “Yeah, I know. Sounds crazy, right?”

You didn’t say anything, just watched him carefully, waiting for him to continue.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know… I used to hate it here. It was too quiet, too slow, too different from Seoul. I thought I’d lose my mind if I had to stay any longer.”

He turned his head, meeting your gaze.

“But then I met you.”

Your lips parted slightly, but you still didn’t say anything.

Heeseung exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “And now… I don’t know. Maybe quiet isn’t so bad. Maybe different isn’t so bad. Maybe—” He hesitated. “Maybe I don’t want to leave anymore.”

The weight of his words hung between you, and for the first time in a long time, Heeseung wasn’t scared of what came next.

Days passed, and something between you and Heeseung settled into place. It wasn’t just fleeting glances or hesitant touches anymore. It was real—comfortable, yet exhilarating in a way neither of you had expected.

Heeseung still missed Seoul sometimes, but not in the same way. The urge to escape had faded. Busan, once dull and suffocating, now felt different. Warmer. Brighter. And he knew it had everything to do with you.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in soft oranges and purples, you both sat on the beach, side by side. The waves crashed gently, the breeze cool against your skin.

“You ever think about what would’ve happened if we never met?” you asked, hugging your knees to your chest.

Heeseung glanced at you, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “I’d probably still be a spoiled asshole waiting to run back to Seoul.”

You laughed softly. “And now?”

Heeseung was quiet for a moment before exhaling through his nose. “Now… I don’t know. But I know I don’t regret staying.”

Your heart swelled at his words. Heeseung wasn’t someone who opened up easily, but the fact that he was here—choosing this, choosing you—meant everything.

He turned to face you fully, his expression softer than you’d ever seen. “You changed things for me,” he admitted. “I don’t know how, but you did.”

You met his gaze, the sincerity in his eyes making your breath hitch.

“You changed things for me, too,” you whispered.

Heeseung leaned in, pressing a slow, lingering kiss against your lips. It wasn’t rushed or desperate—it was steady, certain.

When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, a lazy grin on his face. “Guess that means I’m stuck here now, huh?”

You rolled your eyes, nudging him playfully. “Guess so.”

And for the first time in a long time, Heeseung wasn’t looking for a way out. He was exactly where he wanted to be.

Heeseung had only planned to be in Seoul for a couple of days—just enough time to grab some of his things. But the moment he stepped foot back in the city, something felt off.

It was the same as always—fast, loud, and chaotic. The neon lights of the clubs still flickered, the streets were still packed with people looking for a good time, and his phone buzzed with texts from old friends asking if he was back for good.

A few months ago, he would’ve thrown himself right back into it. He would’ve called up a few people, gotten drunk until the sun rose, and woken up with a headache and no memory of the night before.

But now? He just felt… disconnected.

Walking past the places he used to love—the bars, the high-end restaurants, the luxury stores—he realized something. This had been his whole world, but it didn’t feel like home anymore.

Busan was quiet. Peaceful. Boring, he used to think.

But it had you.

And for some reason, that made all the difference.

Before heading back, he stopped by one of the luxury boutiques he used to frequent. The staff recognized him instantly, greeting him with polished smiles.

“Mr. Lee! It’s been a while.”

“Yeah,” he muttered, barely paying attention as he browsed the shelves.

He didn’t even know what he was looking for at first—just something nice for you. You never asked for anything, which only made him want to give you everything.

After some time, he settled on a delicate gold necklace, a designer handbag, and a few other things. Any other girl he knew would’ve gone crazy for them.

Satisfied, he paid without thinking twice. Money had never been an issue for him.

But you—you were about to prove to him just how different you really were.

When Heeseung finally returned to Busan, he was exhausted from the trip, but instead of going home to rest, he went straight to your place.

He knocked, and a few seconds later, you opened the door, eyes lighting up at the sight of him. “You’re back!”

“Missed me already, baby?” he teased, smirking.

Your face flushed at the nickname, but you rolled your eyes. “You wish.”

He chuckled, stepping inside and handing you a few bags. “Got you something.”

You blinked, looking down at them, then back up at him. “You… got me something?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged like it was nothing. “Just open it.”

You hesitated before peeking inside, pulling out the small jewelry box first. When you flipped it open, a delicate gold necklace shimmered in the light.

“Heeseung…” you breathed, staring at it in disbelief. Then you looked inside the other bags, finding an expensive handbag and a few other luxury accessories.

Your stomach twisted.

“This is… this is too much,” you finally said.

He frowned, tilting his head. “What do you mean?”

You set the bags down gently, chewing on your lip. “I mean, these are beautiful, and I really appreciate it, but… I can’t accept them.”

He let out a short laugh, confused. “Why not?”

“Because I don’t need expensive things to be happy,” you said simply, pushing the bags back toward him. “You didn’t have to do this.”

For a moment, he just stared at you.

Any other girl would’ve squealed, thrown their arms around him, maybe posted about it online. But you? You weren’t impressed.

“You really don’t want them?” he asked, almost in disbelief.

You gave him a soft smile. “I just think there are better things to spend money on.”

Heeseung blinked, completely taken aback.

Then, unexpectedly, he started laughing. Not out of mockery, but pure disbelief.

“You’re insane,” he muttered, shaking his head.

You crossed your arms, narrowing your eyes. “No, I just don’t think money is everything.”

Heeseung studied you, his amusement slowly fading into something more serious.

He had spent his whole life surrounded by people who only cared about status, wealth, and what he could offer them. People who stuck around when it was convenient.

But you… you weren’t like that.

You weren’t impressed by designer bags or expensive gifts. You weren’t drawn to him for his money.

You just liked him. For him.

And for the first time in his life, he wondered if maybe—just maybe—he had been chasing all the wrong things.

He exhaled, shaking his head with a small smirk. “You’re really something else, Y/n.”

You laughed softly, nudging his arm. “Guess you’ll just have to get used to it.”

Heeseung looked at you—really looked at you.

Maybe he would get used to it.

Maybe he didn’t mind the idea of staying in Busan a little while longer.

A few days had passed since Heeseung returned from Seoul, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the way you had turned down his gifts so easily.

Most girls he had been with would’ve taken them without a second thought. They would’ve kissed him, called him the best boyfriend ever, maybe even hinted at what else they wanted next.

But you? You looked almost uncomfortable, like you hated the idea of him spending so much on you.

And for some reason, that drove him insane.

Now, as he lay on his bed staring at the ceiling, he felt that familiar urge again.

I should call her.

It had become a habit—late-night calls with you, staying up until you were barely keeping your eyes open. A dangerous habit, but one he wasn’t willing to break.

Just as he reached for his phone, a knock at his door made him groan. He was about to ignore it when his grandma’s voice called out.

“Heeseung, dear, someone’s here for you!”

Frowning, he sat up. Who the hell would be here this late?

Dragging himself out of bed, he ran a hand through his messy hair before heading toward the door. And when he opened it, he was surprised to see you.

Holding a plastic bag.

“You… brought ramen again?” Heeseung blinked.

You nodded, looking almost shy. “You didn’t eat yet, right?”

Heeseung stared at you, a slow smirk tugging at his lips. “You worried about me, princess?”

You sighed, shaking your head. “Just take the food, Heeseung.”

“Come inside,” he said, stepping back to let you in.

You hesitated for only a second before walking in, making your way to the kitchen like you had done so many times before.

Heeseung leaned against the counter, watching as you pulled out the ramen packets. You always moved so effortlessly in his house, as if you belonged here.

Shit. That was a dangerous thought.

“Why do you keep bringing me food?” Heeseung asked, crossing his arms.

You paused, then shrugged. “I just… want to make sure you’re eating properly.”

Heeseung scoffed, shaking his head. “You’re weird, you know that?”

You smiled, unfazed. “I’ve been told.”

As you started boiling the water, Heeseung found himself staring again.

The way the light from the kitchen made your skin glow. The way your fingers worked so delicately, even when handling something as simple as instant ramen.

It wasn’t the first time he thought you looked beautiful. But every time, it hit him like a damn train.

“You’re staring,” you said suddenly, not even looking up.

Heeseung smirked. “You’re just so pretty right now.”

Your cheeks burned. “Heeseung—”

“Seriously.” He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Make me wanna stay.”

Your breath hitched.

And just like that, Heeseung knew—

He didn’t just want to stay.

He needed to.

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