#hyunjin imagines | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

forlix · 1 month

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𝐚𝐜𝐞・h.h.

— volleyball superstar and your personal hell hwang hyunjin proposes a trade-off you can't refuse: his matchmaking services for a passing anthropology grade. the plan is foolproof in theory; in practice, it is something else entirely.

words・15.2k

pairing・volleyball player!hyunjin x tutor!reader (gn)

genres・college!au, sports!au, fake enemies to friends to lovers, fluff, humor, hurt/comfort, slice of life, mutual pining, slow burn. two polar opposites sharing one soul. a seungjin fic if u squint. loosely inspired by the manga/anime haikyuu!!

warnings・mentions of anxiety, fear of failure, heartbreak, loneliness, and self-image. course language and callous banter (as always) ft. suggestive flirting and one kms joke. some of the referenced players and coaches are real; this fic is not.

playlist・collision by stray kids・value by ado・waiting for us by stray kids・eternity by bang chan・dreaming by smallpools・fly high!! by burnout syndromes

a/n・writing this felt like returning to my roots tbh. i love volleyball and i love sports aus and i love, love hwang hyunjin. thank u to my sahar for bringing this fic to life with me, as always; i can no longer write for him without also writing for you. i hope u guys enjoy reading this as much as i adored writing it. happy late birthday, our jinnie, our hyunjin, our forever ace; you are so unbelievably loved ♡

“Not a word out of you,” you say, tossing your backpack onto the floor of the lecture hall with a heavy-handed flick. “I’m serious.”

Hyunjin glances up at you with a frown. “When did people stop saying good morning?”

Your lack of an immediate comeback tells him the situation is dire. He observes you for a moment, his mouth falling open, hanging still, then curving into a slow, serpentine smile.

“Look at me.”

“No.”

“Look at me.”

“No.”

“Please, angel.”

“No! Leave me alone.”

Hyunjin slumps back into his seat, thinking hard. The solution occurs to him with a poke of his tongue into his cheek. “Coffee on me for a week.”

At this, your hands stop rummaging in your bag. You cock your head, your interest piqued. Got you.

When you finally humor him and turn around, you’re flinching like you’re in pain, eyes closed and breath held and all. He giggles and leans in for a closer look. Tendrils of your body spray reach him from here, floral and light like a tropical coastline. He could’ve counted your eyelashes if he wasn’t so flummoxed by the state of your forehead.

“What the hell did you do?”

“Tried to cut my own bangs,” you sigh. “It didn’t go very well and now I look like Rock Lee.”

Hyunjin lets out a forceful laugh. “You’ve seen Naruto?”

You open your eyes. Only then does Hyunjin remember how little distance he left between your faces, when he’s staring straight into them and all the strange, starry speckles they hold.

The air between you curdles like sour milk.

Things are awkward between you often, he’s realized recently. What’s more, he didn’t think he was capable of being awkward with anyone anymore until he met you. It was your ill-fated seat that he chose to sit next to on the first day of ANTH 111, your ill-fated lap onto which he chose to spill his Americano, and the rest was history (or, in this case, anthropology). His tongue ends up in sailor’s knots with every smart-aleck comment and pitiful laugh you’ve given him since. Maybe there’s more to it, maybe there isn’t—Hyunjin doesn’t think about it much. He doesn’t like thinking in general.

You pull away from each other in unison. You clear your throat, glancing elsewhere.

“Of course I’ve seen Naruto,” you quip, and everything is normal again. “Why do you seem surprised?”

“Because you’re so scholarly.”

“I am not scholarly.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You go to a park to play chess with old people on weekends.”

“I need to get my steps in somehow.”

“You didn’t know what Urban Dictionary was until I told you to look up—”

“God, I learned so much about you that day."

“Your favorite social media platform is Quizlet,” he bursts, exasperated. “Quizlet.”

“It is not.” An introspective pause. “Or is it?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised.” Hyunjin throws his feet up on the chair below him, jabs in your direction with a bandaged finger. “There is no way you enjoy watching 2D men beat each other up in your free time. I don’t buy it.”

“Honestly, I thought you’d have more to say about my current appearance than my hobbies.”

He does, though. Matter of fact, he’s been curating a list since this conversation started: Vector from Despicable Me, Dora the Explorer’s hot older sibling, Spock. You face-planted into a lawnmower. You mistook a paper shredder for a hat. It goes on.

But then his head turns. Your eyes meet again. He’s reminded that it’s hard to sustain an inner monologue and look at you at the same time, Vector resemblance and all.

He reaches up, nudges a lock of your hair over a centimeter or so, and gives the patch of forehead a gentle flick.

“Watermelon,” he mumbles with a sickening smile.

You divert your attention to your lecture notes with a disappointed click of your tongue. “You’re getting soft.”

He spends the entire lecture daydreaming about tropical coastlines.

“I only get coffee from that one place on the east side of campus, by the way,” you say as you’re strolling out the building together, “and I get it a very specific way. Can you handle it?”

“Your faith gets me out of bed in the morning,” Hyunjin deadpans. “I’ll handle it, love. Text me your order.”

All of a sudden, you position your hands close to your stomach, the lapels of your jacket casting them in shadow. Your fingers begin to move in a sequence that he’d recognize anywhere.

“Body flicker jutsu,” you whisper, and then you’re scurrying off without another word—but you do glance back at him to gauge his response. Your smile is purely effulgent, your laugh but a faint sigh against the main quad’s busy thrum.

Hyunjin gapes at your retreating figure for so long that phosphenes start prancing around his field of view. Then he heads to the gym. His heart is pounding against his ribs like a battering ram.

“Hwang, I need you in my office.”

Hyunjin stops lacing up his shoes to see Coach Bang standing on the court’s sideline with a grim air about him. He glances at his captain, confused.

“Don’t look at me,” Minho says mid-stretch. “Godspeed.”

“Thanks, cap.” Useless.

Head volleyball coach Christopher Bang’s workspace reminds Hyunjin of a morgue. It’s all fluorescent lights and spotless white walls, the only decorative fixture a picture of his siblings, parents, and dog in front of the Sydney Opera House, framed and facing him atop his desk. Hyunjin once snuck the thing into the bathroom, an innocent plot to satiate his curiosity, and promptly discovered the man’s propensity for violence. He’s packing beneath those dry-cleaned polos, by the way.

Hyunjin closes the door and takes a seat. Bang taps a knuckle against the tempered glass of his monitor. “You can read, right?”

“Yes, coach,” he sighs. Everyone’s expectations for him are subterranean.

From: Park Jinyoung «[email protected]» To: Bang “Christopher” Chan «[email protected]» Subject: Not good See email from Hwang’s antopology professor below . He submitted the complete script of the Trolls movie instead of his mid term paper and now he’s failing the class . Not good . Sort out ASAP JP Sent from my iPad

Bang snatches up his mouse and scrolls, his ears turning scarlet. “Wrong email.”

“Yep.”

From: Kim Kyeyoung «[email protected]» To: Park Jinyoung «[email protected]» Subject: Regarding Hwang Hyunjin To Director of Athletics Park, I am writing to inform you that, as of yesterday, Mr. Hwang Hyunjin has a D- (64.9%) in ANTH 111: Cultural Anthropology, due to his submission of the complete script of a kids’ movie instead of his midterm paper. It is disappointing to see Mr. Hwang trivialize and ridicule my class to such a degree. Please see to it that he reorganizes his priorities lest his Student-Athlete Participation Agreement do so for him. Regards, Kim Kyeyoung Professor of Anthropology

“That’s bullshit!”

“We’re in agreement there.” Bang folds his arms over his chest, throws his foot over his knee. “Do you know what your Student-Athlete Participation Agreement says?”

“Does anyone?” Hyunjin scoffs. Bang whips out a form and brings it to eye level, the thing covered from top to bottom in microscopic Times New Roman. “No way you just had that.”

“I had it delivered ten minutes ago,” Bang confesses, then clears his throat and begins to recite. “All student-athletes must complete the academic term with a C or higher in all courses, should they wish to continue their participation in athletics thereafter.”

Hyunjin stiffens. “What the fuck? I’ve never heard—”

“If any Department of Athletics personnel,” Bang continues, raising his voice, “have reason to believe that a student-athlete will not be able to satisfy this requirement, they are encouraged to utilize resources such as academic advising or peer tutoring in guiding said student-athlete back onto the correct path.”

He shoves the piece of paper across his desk. “Read that name aloud for me.”

Hyunjin stares at the signature at the bottom of the page, scrawled so carelessly that most of it deviates away from its designated line. There is a rare hollowness in his chest that he recognizes as anxiety. With it comes a glimpse of a life without volleyball, the question of what little of him would remain.

“Hwang Hyunjin,” he says under his breath.

The office goes silent. Bang tucks the form back into his drawer. It closes with a gentle click.

Then comes the yelling.

“The Trolls movie? Trolls?! Are you fucking with me, Hwang?”

“It was a cultural reset! The pinnacle of modern media! How’s that for anthropology?”

“BAD!” Bang explodes, gesturing to the email emphatically. “VERY, VERY BAD!”

Hyunjin slumps over, dejected.

“You’ve never had trouble with school before.” He leans over his desk imposingly. “What the hell happened this semester? What changed?”

Nothing is the first answer that comes to mind, but Hyunjin’s pulse spikes like a lie detector. Upon the inside of his eyes replays a scene of a certain someone with watermelon bangs doing teleportation jutsu at him from a few yards away, wearing a smile made of some kind of space dust that astronomists haven’t discovered yet.

He grits his teeth, annoyed. This is what happens when he thinks.

“Beats me,” he fibs. “Typical junior year stress, maybe.”

“Does any of it have to do with Piazza?”

Hyunjin shudders.

It just might, actually.

Modesty has no place in the career he’s had: high school national champion turned ace hitter in both the South Korean U21 roster and regular rotation for Seoul National University, the best collegiate volleyball team in the country. His name has lived at the top of ranking lists and the center of gold medals since he turned old enough to qualify for them; the press believes him the instigant of South Korea’s imminent volleyball revolution. It’s a mouthful, he knows.

It was never a question that he would go professional; the question was who he should talk to and where he would go.

At the start of the school year, Bang, acting in place of the agent he was advised to find and never bothered to, gave him a list of people to reach out to. On the very top was none other than Roberto Piazza, the chairman and head coach of Allianz Milano, one of the most eminent club teams in the world—and current home to Hyunjin’s personal idol, outside hitter Ishikawa Yuki.

Hyunjin thought his poor coach had finally succumbed to his old age. The thought of stepping onto the same court as Ishikawa felt sacrilegious, let alone donning the red, white, and navy blue of Allianz Milano with him. But Bang slapped him on the back of the neck and reminded him that going professional was equal parts preparation and opportunity; he was never going to know the answers to questions he didn’t ask. Hyunjin was coerced to fire off an introductory email despite his reservations.

Piazza replied within the week.

For the last five months, Hyunjin has been fighting with tooth and nail to manage his expectations. He scrolls past the team’s social media posts like they burn his eyes. He replies to Piazza’s emails right before working out with Changbin under the assumption that whatever the shredded libero does to him will eviscerate his brain. If his world is made of dreams, this is the one at its very core, imbued with destructive potential the second it became attainable.

But that’s the last five months. The last five weeks have been you kicking him in the shin because he’s laughing (or trying to make you laugh) and the professor is staring; you listening to him rant and rave about volleyball when he knows you couldn’t care less about the sport; you relaying the contents of your class readings like hot gossip, your eyes wild and hands flying around because you can’t contain your excitement. You, you, you.

He cards a hand through his air, regaining focus. “You know how I feel about Piazza.”

“Expect the worst, hope for the best.” Bang’s chair skids backwards as he stands up. “I think it’s a good approach.”

Suddenly, he is directly in front of Hyunjin, low enough to meet his eyes. His hands rest upon his shoulders firmly.

“But hope is hungry, and it will consume you if you let it,” he says. “Do not let it, Hyunjin. I’m not asking.”

Even while being squeezed to a pulp and regarded with the cold intensity of a statue, Hyunjin can’t help but feel anchored, somehow, to the floor of this miserable office. Protected.

Bang lets go of him. “I’m not asking you to find a tutor by the end of the week, either.”

Hyunjin groans. “Yeah, yeah. I’m on it.”

A set of bandaged fingers appear in your periphery to place a paper cup onto your laptop. Accompanying the smell of fresh coffee is that of smoky rose, as decidedly douchey as ever.

“I thought you said your order was complicated.”

You look up from your phone to see Hyunjin plop into the adjacent seat. His long, caramel-colored hair is damp and unstyled in the aftermath of a morning shower, droplets of water pearling on the lapels of a navy blue windbreaker, layered over a white long sleeve. You recognize the outfit by now as game gear.

“Was it not?” You ask.

“It was an Americano, love. I walked up to the cashier and placed an order for an Americano.”

“Well, I wasn’t sure if you could handle that much.” He flips you off as you squint at the cup. “Someone wrote their number on the lid, by the way.”

“What? Really?”

“No.”

He shoves you hard enough for your upper body to drape over the opposite armrest; you’re still cackling by the time you’ve straightened up again.

“Why did you get this, anyway?” Hyunjin grumbles. “I thought you had a sweet tooth.”

“I do, but you don’t.”

Only then does the fool understand that you had no intention of charging him in coffee just for a haircut reveal. He takes back the coffee hesitantly.

“Thanks,” he says at last. “Nice of you.”

“I know, right? Hated it,” you respond, and he almost chokes on his first sip.

You almost choke on nothing when Kim Seungmin materializes in the aisle adjacent. He holds out a hand in Hyunjin’s direction. “Yo.”

Hyunjin dabs it up mid-sip. “I fully forgot you were in this class.”

“Well, I’m due for my weekly appearance.” Seungmin slips into the seat directly below you, glancing at you over his shoulder. “Hey, Y/N.”

“Hi,” you say, somehow managing to stumble over the single syllable the word has. You thank your lucky stars that you fixed your hair yesterday.

You like Kim Seungmin. Not just in the cutesy, crushy way, but in the “I would relinquish all of my rights for you” way where you spend every waking moment cursing out whatever stroke of misfortune placed Hyunjin in the seat next to you instead of him. He’s funny, gorgeous, and talented—a vocal performance major with a student-athlete contract—and you think your infatuation is more than justified. Hyunjin thinks it’s hilarious.

You side-eye your blonde adversary, prepared to see one of three things: a suppressed laugh, a dramatic eye-roll, or a mature kissy face that usually results in the first option. You’re met with something far more worrisome.

He’s thinking.

That can’t be good.

Suddenly, his phone screen lights up with a text that temporarily wipes the conspiratorial gleam from his eye. Hyunjin scans it over and groans. “Can this guy do his fucking job?”

“He wouldn’t have to if you didn’t quit,” Seungmin answers. “I’ll never forget you, Manager Hwang.”

“Shut up.” You peer at Hyunjin, silently requesting an explanation. “Our captain is forcing us to help him look for a new team manager. We need one for playoffs because of some stupid U-League rule—Seung, why do you look morose?”

“I’m mourning.” Seungmin does look morose indeed. “Hyunjin committed larceny last year and our coach punished him by making him our team manager for the rest of the season. It was so funny.”

Hyunjin slides down his seat. “It was the worst experience of my life.”

Neither man seems inclined to elaborate on the mention of larceny. You choose to digress. “Can I ask why?”

“He had to be responsible,” Seungmin whispers. “For other people.”

The top of Hyunjin’s head stops right next to your armrest. You reach over and pat his hair in faux sympathy. “Poor thing.”

“Hardass refused to do it again this year, so now we’re recruiting.” Seungmin props an elbow upon the back of his chair, looks at you contemplatively. “I don’t suppose you have four hours to spare every day.”

Hyunjin scoffs from below you. Loudly. “This one? Team manager?”

“I can see it.”

“I can see killing myself, maybe.”

The next time you reach for him is to smack his forehead. A crisp smack resounds around the barren lecture hall, and Hyunjin cusses into his seat cushion.

“Seems like a great candidate to me,” Seungmin muses, and the warm smile he gives you mirrors onto your face before you can think better of it. God, it’s pretty. You wonder how it would feel pressed against your own.

Hyunjin is now completely out of sight and halfway onto the floor. “I miss when you didn’t come to class, Seungmin.”

Eighty minutes later, you’ve just emerged from the classroom when Seungmin calls out to you. You come to such a sudden halt that Hyunjin almost trips over you, but you barely notice him stumble, utterly enraptured by the hand Seungmin brings to the strands of hair by your ear, the fingers that dust your cheek as they pluck a small piece of lint from out of the tresses.

“Sorry.” He flicks it away with a sheepish smile. “I couldn’t unsee it.”

You manage to thank him just before your whole body ceases to function. Hyunjin sidesteps the two of you, yawning.

Seungmin excuses himself not too long after you reach the main quad. You also turn to leave, sparing Hyunjin a curt farewell in the process. He hooks his pointer finger around the handle at the top of your backpack and lugs you backwards with infuriating ease.

“I didn’t like that at all,” you say.

“I don’t care. I have something to tell you.”

“You have a kid, don’t you?”

“Wha—huh? Who do you think I am?”

“The one-night-stand’s poster child. The champion of the contraception industry.”

“Yeah, contraception industry. It’s right there in the name.”

You can’t argue with that. “What do you have to tell me?”

A shadow of hesitation flits across Hyunjin’s face. Your smile falters. Is it possible that you’re about to have a serious conversation with him for the first time? Maybe you should’ve saved the secret son bit for another time.

“I’m failing anthro.”

So much for a serious conversation.

“Come again?”

He repeats the mystifying statement.

“You’re joking.” The look on his face says otherwise, though, and your eyebrows disappear into your hair. “You’re failing anthro?”

“I just said that, yes.”

“You’re failing anthropology?”

“Mhm.”

“Just so we’re clear—you’re failing Introduction to Cultural Anthropology?”

“Yes. I’m glad you’re having fun.”

This is the best day of your life. “I didn’t even know that was possible.”

“Yeah, well, our professor has no media literacy,” he mutters.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Hyunjin clears his throat. “Anyways, I was thinking—”

“Wow! Congratulations. That’s a big—oomf—”

Hyunjin puts his entire hand over your face. Your mangled noises of protest go unacknowledged.

“I was thinking,” he continues, pushing your head around like a stick shift, “you and I can work out some kind of deal.”

You shove his wrist off you with a revolted groan. “I think I just ate some athletic tape.”

“Happens. You wanna hear the deal or not?”

“Does it involve ingesting more sports equipment?”

“Do you want it to?”

“Just tell me the deal, boy.”

“Alright.” He takes a deep breath. “If you help me pass this class, I’ll set you up with Seungmin.”

Your head performs a triple-axel on your neck. You are unable to respond for what feels like multiple hours. Finally: “I’m gonna need you to elaborate.”

“On which part?”

“All of them. Everything.”

Hyunjin sighs, then scans the courtyard. His gaze settles on the student union a little ways off. “Are you hungry?”

You pick up a sandwich and a smoothie in a state of nervous stupor. One would think it’s the prime minister you’re about to have lunch with and not an imbecilic left-side hitter eating from three different entrees at the same time.

He’s chosen a table a few yards away from a planter of flowering cherry blossom trees. You feel jealous eyes on the side of your face as you take a seat across from Hyunjin, but they don’t know that his telephone pole legs still bump against yours even with them drawn as close to your body as anatomically possible. Or that he’s drawing up a literal Ponzi scheme on your sandwich wrapper. You wager you’ve had better company.

“You like anthropology. I like listening to you talk about anthropology.” He traces over the wrapper’s left corner. “And I kinda want you to boss me around. That weird?”

“Yes, definitely,” you mumble around a mouthful of bread. “Go on.”

“Conclusion one: you should be my tutor.” He taps in place as if applying a finishing touch, then swaps to the opposite side. “You also like my teammate, but he’s neck-deep in volleyball and music this semester, which makes him hard to get a hold of—for most people.”

“Let me guess. Not for you.”

“Ten points to Ravenclaw.” His British accent is nightmarish. “Seung and I live in the same building. We get dinner when we go back from practice together. Conclusion two: you should come with us.”

“To dinner or to practice?”

“To both. Which brings us to my third and final conclusion—”

He slams a fist onto the center of the wrapper.

“—you should manage our team.”

“I knew it!” You slam the table as well, your smoothie wobbling upon impact. “You’re trying to swindle me! You can’t pay for my labor with more labor. What do you take me for?”

“It’s not labor, dumbass! Ask our last manager! He didn’t do shit!”

“Yeah? Who was your last manager?”

“Me!”

Oh, right. “But you hated it!”

“I hate everything that isn’t playing volleyball. Try again.”

You fold your arms over your chest. “You said you’d kill yourself if I managed you.”

Hyunjin starts balling up your sandwich wrapper. “It’s true. I thought about you and my coach getting along and promptly got a rash. But it makes so much sense: you do whatever you want during practice, tutor me afterwards, and then you and Seung can eyefuck over ramen or something. My coach hops off my dick, you hop on Seung’s—”

“STOP!” A girl drops her receipt not too far away, startled by your outburst. “Stop right there. I get it. Stop.”

“It’s a good plan.” He slings the paper ball towards the nearest trash can. It drops into the hole without so much as a brush against the rim. “You know it is.”

You’re loath to admit that you do. “When did you even come up with all this?”

He flicks a thumb in the direction of your anthropology class. No fucking wonder he’s failing.

“What is this, mock trial?”

The owner of this voice is the third man you’ve seen today donning that navy windbreaker, white long-sleeve combo. He has a face that reminds you of your neighbor’s cat from back home, sleek and sharp and only slightly sinister. There’s a dash of humor in his expression as he approaches your table like he’s enjoying the company of a court jester.

“Slamming tables like fuckin’ tariff lawyers,” the cat-man hums, lifting a hand in Hyunjin’s direction. “I could see it from all the way inside.”

“Captain!” Hyunjin crows, dabbing him up without missing a beat. They really do that like breathing. “Just the man I was hoping to see.”

“Really? I thought you’d be avoiding me like the rest of our homunculus team.”

“I would never.”

“You did. Yesterday. When you saw me and started running in the opposite direction.” He pauses for emphasis. “As fast as possible.”

“Well, that was yesterday. Today is a new day.” Hyunjin tosses you a proud glance. “And today, I bring you a new team manager.”

You stiffen. “I haven’t—”

“Is that so!” When the stranger smiles at you, you feel the same satisfaction you did every time the cat let you scratch her on the chin. “Music to my ears. What’s your name, cutie?”

You catch Hyunjin’s eye across the table; he nods enthusiastically as if saying go on, then. You briefly picture yourself strangling him with his own athletic tape. You then picture yourself hopping on Seungmin’s—

Rigidly, you throw a hand out to the cat-man, your face aflame.

“Y/N,” you grumble. “I’m looking forward to working with you.”

He shakes on it heartily. “Likewise. I’m Minho. Welcome to the team.”

“Yes, welcome to the team,” Hyunjin parrots, looking positively jolly. You gnash your teeth together so hard your jaw throbs.

He’s lucky that his proposal holds so much water. He’s lucky that you don’t plan to strangle him until after you try that eyefucking thing.

You do kick him under the table, though.

The team has five weeks to prepare for the Korean University League, the biggest college-level volleyball tournament in the country. You have five days to learn how the hell athletic tape works. You can’t tell which is the bigger endeavor.

“I’m going to cause him irreversible skeletal damage,” you tell Changbin.

The team’s libero is twice as kind as he is talented, a full-time sweetheart working part-time at the university’s sports medicine clinic. Only your first week on the job and you’ve already decided he’s the only person on Earth you would permit to usher you through the gym at 6:45 A.M., a roll of athletic tape pressed to your back like a pistol.

“You will not,” Changbin answers. “One, because this won’t involve his skeleton, and two, because I wouldn’t ask you to help if it did.”

“You’ve misunderstood me,” you return as the two of you stop in front of an examination room. “I want to cause him irreversible skeletal damage.”

“Oh.” He opens the door with a frown. “Oh dear.”

Inside, Hyunjin is sitting cross-legged on top of a taping table, fitted in a loose gray tee and athletic shorts. He watches in pessimistic silence as you enter the room and beeline straight towards the shelf on the right. You slip a thick binder into your hands and bury your nose inside it without so much as a greeting.

“I am going to get maimed,” Hyunjin tells Changbin.

“Have some faith, both of you,” Changbin replies sternly. You find the pages you’re looking for and begin poring over them like you’re cramming for an exam. “You’ll be fine, Jinnie. Y/N studied.”

“Studied?” He repeats. “For this?”

“I’m pretty sure Quizlets were made.”

“Three, to be exact," you interject, sticking out your hand. “Now tape me.”

Hyunjin mouths the words tape me in baffled silence. The latter obliges your request with a smile. “See? What could go wrong?”

The answer to that, actually, is a lot. Especially after Changbin gets called away to help stretch out a teammate named Felix who allegedly “sprained his ass,” leaving Hyunjin to you and your binder.

You detect no smoky rose in the air around him today, just the subtle smells of cedar and cypress—laundry detergent or shampoo, maybe. Figures he doesn’t wear that insufferable cologne to practice.

“Go easy on me, yeah?”

While Hyunjin’s tone is teasing, yours is downright somber.

“I can’t promise anything.”

With that, you turn your palms face-up in a silent request for his hand.

A few strands of hair fall into your face as you lean in for a better look. It’s the first time you’ve seen his fingers untaped; they’re pretty, long and slender and surprisingly manicured, but also battered in their delicacy, the veins running over the back of his hand and forearm prominent, his bottom knuckles discolored from the healing bruises they bear. His hard work is palpable upon the smooth skin as evidently as if tattooed.

Hyunjin says your name in close proximity. You respond with an absent hum.

“You’re not nervous, are you?”

“No. Maybe a little.” You let his hand fall free and go to rummage for supplies. “Fine, yes. Very.”

“But you made Quizlets. You’re prepared for anything.”

“That’s what I’m saying!” You realize only after spotting the gentle smile on his face that he’s making fun of you. “I hate you.”

“Actually,” he hums, “I think you care about me, love. That’s why you’re nervous.”

“Nonsense—I care about disappointing Changbin. That’s it.”

“And me. And hopping on Seungmin’s dick. All these things don’t have to be mutually exclusive.”

You try to tackle him. Hyunjin catches your hands a few inches away from his face, fingers closing around your wrists with obnoxious agility.

“Have you lost your mind?” You whisper-shout, your face on fire. “Don’t bring that up here. I’ll maim you for real.”

The laugh that explodes out of him throws his entire body backwards, turns his eyes to crescent moons and his mouth into a little rectangle. You hate that you don’t hate when that happens.

“My bad, my bad. It slipped out. I won’t—”

One incremental shift of Hyunjin’s body later, you find that you’re precariously, alarmingly close to one another.

So much so that you notice the mole beneath his left eye for the first time, that you're nearly cross-eyed looking at it. That the tip of your nose actually brushes against his before you pull away with a quiet intake of breath.

Things are awkward between you often, you’ve realized recently. You’re both professional yappers, always quick to digress, quick to find a new topic to bicker about before the awkwardness marinates. But hours later you’ll look back on the interaction and still remember how the air shifted: like a layer of dust had been blown away and something untouched and unknown was discovered just underneath.

Since you’ve met him, Hyunjin has spent more time on your nerves than on your mind. You’re not exactly losing sleep over such a circumstantial acquaintance; you know that his presence in your life will end the way it began, naturally and anticlimactically and inside the ANTH 111 lecture hall. Still, it doesn’t go unnoticed when your heart and stomach launch into an elaborate gymnastics routine in the wake of something he says or does, just as they’re doing now.

Hyunjin glances into your right eye a moment, then your left. The mole just below his left eye disappears when he smiles, the expression soft, saccharine, and sincere. How anyone casually looks the way he does is beyond your abilities of comprehension.

“Thank you,” he murmurs.

Your face continues to burn, now perhaps for different reasons. “What for?”

He lets go of your wrist, sweeps the lock of hair that keeps getting in your eyes behind the cuff of your ear.

“Caring about me.”

Then he flicks your forehead. You recoil with a quiet ow.

“Now stop stalling and tape me, dumbass.”

“Okay,” you mutter, rubbing the injury tenderly. “No need to get violent.”

It turns out the arduous taping procedure described in the instruction manual is for serious hand injuries. Hyunjin splints his fingers together for support, not rehabilitation, so it takes all of five minutes for him to talk you through his process. You finish taping both of his hands with nineteen minutes to spare. So maybe the Quizlets were overkill.

As you’re walking him down to practice, you take his hand and lift it to eye level, scanning your craftsmanship dubiously. “It’s not too tight, is it?”

“It’s perfect.” He swivels the hand around and grabs onto your entire face, the sensation by now eerily familiar. “Want another taste?”

You shove him down the stairs that remain. Unfortunately, there are only two. “You are truly grotesque.”

The gym has come to life since you arrived earlier this morning, now illuminated by shining ceiling lights in addition to the sun spilling through high, narrow windows. Most of the team has yet to step onto the court, still stretching or jogging along the sidelines: Minho and Coach Bang are talking strategy on the bench, the coach taking notes on a handheld whiteboard every now and then; Changbin is leaning over a recumbent Felix below the scoreboard, presumably trying to fix his ass.

The only one already with a ball in hand is Seungmin, setting to himself by the net. Once, twice, thrice straight up in the air, and then he glances in your direction and sends the fourth towards the left side of the court in a buoyant arc.

You only glean bits and pieces of the next few seconds. Hyunjin is at your side one moment, making a break for the net the next. His arms draw backwards in perfect synchrony. Feet hit the floor with laserlike intent. His entire body unravels like a fraying chrysalis as he rises to meet the ball, pounds it over the net and into the ground at an angle so clean that the sound of its landing resounds within your ribcage. It rebounds over the railing of the second floor and barely misses the doorway of the examination room you just emerged from.

Hyunjin drops lightly back onto his feet, following the ball’s tumultuous trajectory with proud eyes. A leftover breeze tosses a strand of hair over the bridge of your nose, and time starts moving again.

“Oi, this isn’t your backyard! Go pick that up!” Their coach booms, though his words lack their usual bitterness after what he just witnessed his ace hitter do.

Hyunjin swivels towards Seungmin first. “Crazy bitch. What the fuck was that?”

“Lower and faster. Further from the net too,” Seungmin returns. “How’d it feel?”

The grin on Hyunjin’s face reminds you of a wildfire, untamed and all-consuming and frightening in its fervor. “Like we just won everything.”

He tousles your hair as he jogs past you and back up the stairs to fetch the volleyball. Seungmin waves at you with one hand and palms another ball into his other. His face is warm and bare, his slim build flattered by his volleyball gear. You’ve witnessed few people so nice to look at and even fewer things as elegant as his setting form. But you are still thinking about Hyunjin—and you can’t move.

It is debilitating, watching somebody do the very thing they were destined for.

A little less than a week later, Hyunjin is approaching hour three of spewing hot garbage into a Word document when he decides to give up and call you.

“Hello?” He immediately starts laughing. “Where the fuck are you?”

You poke the top of your head into the shot of your ceiling, gesturing to your headband. “My face is preoccupied at the moment.”

“Oh, you have to show me. Please.”

You flip your phone up for no more than half a second. A camera shutter goes off, followed by a shriek so loud that it peaks your mic.

“Motherfucker!”

He basically sprints to his camera roll. His prize: you with your face slathered in cleanser, hair pinned back by a Miffy headband, looking like the abominable snowman if he liked cute merchandise.

“Thank you,” he says earnestly. “I’ll treasure this forever.”

“You’ll be punished, Hwang.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

You brandish your middle finger at him in response. He props his phone up against his computer screen with a chuckle.

“Aaanyways, I have a thesis statement to run by you.”

The first thing you did as Hyunjin’s tutor was help draft an email to Professor Kim, begging her to let him resubmit the two essays he royally botched. She replied with a lengthy quotation from her syllabus, specifically the section that talked about (and prohibited) resubmissions, but ended up making an exception for Hyunjin on account of the “truly piteous timbre” of his email. You fell out of your chair laughing when he read you her response.

“You should’ve opened with that.”

“I tried, hello? Someone distracted me!”

“Read. It. Before I change my mind.”

You spend a few minutes at most on the thesis itself, advising him to avoid passive voice, answer the prompt, establish a refutable argument, the works. Then he asks you a question about the research topic itself, allusions to the afterlife in Ancient Egyptian artwork, and the tutoring session takes a turn into what feels like a podcast episode.

You talk about the God of Death, Anubis, and his connections to the underworld; the elaborate, lavish funerary rituals intended to ensure the souls of the dead traveled safely; the vibrant murals that flanked their final resting spots as pictorial requests for divine protection. And you talk about them all with such confidence, such eloquence, that it’s as if you’re leading him through a history museum rather than talking to your phone as you do your skincare. He could listen to you for hours. He does, actually.

Around 1 A.M., Hyunjin stops typing mid-sentence when you come into frame for the first time, collapsing into your bed with a sigh of relief. Your eyes are soft and sleepy as they blink at your screen, strands of damp hair clinging to your cheeks. He feels his heart physically shift inside his ribcage when your mouth stretches into a yawn. It is the same sensation as the time you shot him a smile over your shoulder and he couldn’t move for ten minutes.

With that, his attention span has run its course.

“Baby,” he interrupts gently. “Let’s stop here, okay? You seem tired.”

You open your mouth as if to protest, only to yawn again.

“I suppose I am. Will you keep working tonight?”

“I think so. I hit my stride.”

“Text me if you have questions, then. I’ll respond when I wake up.”

“Okay.”

Your lips curve into the smallest of smiles. It copies onto Hyunjin’s face incurably quickly.

“I had my doubts about this tutoring thing, you know.”

“Why is that?”

“Well, you told me this class was the closest thing to daily naptime you’d experienced since preschool.”

“It really is.”

“You also told me you would rather slam your tongue in a car door than read more than three sentences in one sitting.”

“I really would.”

“And you once referred to academia as ‘Virgin Village.’”

“Didn’t you come up with that?”

“No, hello? I live in that village.”

He grins. “I know. I just wanted to hear you admit it.”

“Fuck you.”

“Ah, don’t threaten me with a good—”

“What I’m trying to say is that I didn’t think you would take this seriously, but I’m happy to be proven wrong.”

Hyunjin leans back. “Well, turns out I might give a fuck about anthropology after all.”

“Really?”

“No.”

You pretend to punch him through the screen. It’s so cute that he forgets to think before he opens his mouth next.

“But I do give a fuck about you.”

There’s nothing crazy about the statement. You’re friends, sort of. You manage his team. It would be strange if he didn’t. But the seconds that follow are terrible, a silent prophecy of something disastrous, like a cloud of rubble before an avalanche, the standstill during a star’s final breath. And Hyunjin’s heartbeat is hounding against his ears like a performance of traditional taiko.

He says good night in a haste. The call ends. He stares at the wall of his bedroom in a muddled haze for who knows how long.

Then he opens his texts.

Hyunjin: We have team bonding tomorrow btw Hyunjin: Don’t forget Y/N: i forgot. Y/N: pick me up at 6:45? Hyunjin: 🫡

He picks you up at 7:53.

You approach his car with your fists balled and your eyebrows knitted together like a mean old curmudgeon and he’s walking too close to your lawn.

“His fault,” Hyunjin says before you start yelling.

Minho simpers at you through his open window. “Hey, you! So glad you could join us!”

You fix the man with a judgmental glare as you slide into the backseat. “Aren’t you the captain? Why are you this late?”

“Whoa, okay. I would’ve scheduled this for earlier if I knew right now was honesty hour.”

“You did schedule it for earlier,” you say. “You scheduled it for way earlier.”

“Yeah, well, you’re fired.”

“You can’t fire me, Minho.”

“I can too. Tell ‘em, Hwang.”

“I want nothing to do with this.”

When you step through the doors of the arcade, you’re met with a surge of sensory input that you haven’t experienced in years. The air hangs thick with the smells of greasy concessions; everywhere you look are flashing screens and neon signs, stuffed animals and fading posters; clamoring against your ears are the sounds of games being won or lost, of balls being pocketed or launched, and of a horde of fully grown men spectating a match of Dance Dance Revolution so passionately (and loudly) that they’ve scared everyone away from that side of the room. You recognize the current competitors as Changbin and Jeongin.

“I’ll go pay,” Hyunjin says. “How much time do we want?”

“Infinity,” Minho answers. Hyunjin doesn’t move. “Two hours.”

He flashes him a thumbs-up. “And you?”

“I’m okay, I think.”

“No you’re not,” the two men answer in perfect unison.

You glance between them warily. “I don’t mind watching, seriously. I don’t even know how most of these games work—”

“There’s Tetris,” Hyunjin cuts in.

You purchase an hour.

One would imagine the point of the evening is to break the SNU men’s volleyball team, not to bond them. You’ve never seen so many strained blood vessels in your life. Nor have you heard of half the insults they spew at each other as the night goes on. Felix has to pay a fee for lodging an air hockey puck in the side of the MarioKart machine. Changbin loses at skee-ball and has to down an XL slushie like it’s a shot. It’s a scary amount of boyishness expressed in scary ways.

But they’re happy. You’ve picked up on it when they’re on the court, noticed the raw elation they emanate just from playing together. Yet, their closeness has never been more evident to you than tonight. The men are either laughing or making someone else laugh, arms draped over each other at all times, equally happy to celebrate victories as they’re eager to punish losses. It dawns on you at some point that you’re glad to be here with them, grateful to be a part of something so special—especially because there’s Tetris.

“Have you ever considered going pro?” Hyunjin asks over your shoulder.

You waited until most of the team was distracted to slink off to your beloved machine. Hyunjin tagged along, undoubtedly with the intention of making fun of you, only to be rendered speechless by your mastery. He’s been watching in a state of stupor, forearms propped against the back of your chair.

You don’t respond for a while, too focused on a precarious patch to even blink, let alone partake in conversation.

“I already did,” you finally answer.

“Sorry, what? You played professional Tetris?”

“In middle school. Then I got bored and switched to backgammon.” You pause. “Then I got bored again and switched to chess.”

“How do you look like this with these hobbies?”

Your run ends a few minutes later with a somber sound effect. You turn around in your seat with an anguished groan. “I think I’m washed.”

He looks at you like you’ve lost your mind. “You just set a new record by three hundred thousand points.”

“It’s a small pond,” you say, and an idea occurs to you. “Do you wanna try?”

“I get the feeling I don’t have a choice.”

“Then you’re smarter than you look.”

“Well, you look—”

His eyes move between your shoes and your face, and then his voice is an inaudible mutter as he sinks into your seat. You think you hear something along the lines of unfair.

“What was that?”

“Ugly. I said you look ugly.” He cracks his knuckles. “Now let’s break some fuckin' blocks.”

When Hyunjin learns that the pieces can be rotated (so six or seven attempts later), a man walks into the arcade.

He has hair the color of dark chocolate, the face of a fairy prince—and he’s with someone. The two of them appear arm in arm, laughing at something he said. He looks at this person the way astronomers do to the sky.

Something shatters inside you like old porcelain.

Your hands loosen around the back of Hyunjin’s chair. You can’t watch. You can’t think. You can only feel a void of disappointment rip open, stretch over you like an elongating shadow.

“Seung!” That’s Jisung, you think. “You made it!”

“Yo, sorry we’re late.” That’s Seungmin. That is undoubtedly Seungmin. “Dinner took longer than I thought.”

“Min, are you sure I’m allowed to be here?” You don’t know who this voice belongs to and you’re not sure you want to. “I feel like I’m intruding—”

“Hwang,” you say suddenly. “I have to go.”

He turns around, confused. An unattended block falls into a terrible spot on the screen behind him. ”Already?”

“I forgot I had an important call to make.” You turn away, training your eyes on the patterned carpet. “Sorry. I’ll see you around.”

You have touched Hyunjin’s hands many times. He’s asked you to tape his fingers every day since the first; he likes the way you cut off his circulation, says it helps him hit harder. But you never hold his hand so much as you examine it, the act stiff and unfeeling, cordoned within the professional pretense of athletic treatment.

Now, Hyunjin catches your hand like a gardener repotting their favorite flower: delicately, careful of leaving its roots intact and petals untouched, but firmly, securely, so the flower continues to stand tall even when it’s been extracted from the soil, not even a speck of dirt slipping through the cracks between their fingers. That is the image you conjure when he slips his between yours, his metal rings cold where his fingertips are warm.

He says your name. There is a pinch of pain in the word, and you know that he knows.

“Do you want to be alone?”

You have never been asked such a thing—you have never asked to be asked such a thing—but, for some reason, the question brings tears to your eyes.

“Yes, please,” you whisper, and you pull your hand away.

When you stalk past him, you hear Jisung notice you, call out to you, a note of worry in his question. You also count three pairs of eyes on your back: one concerned, the next confused, and the last you are wholly incapable of meeting.

Unknown to you is the fourth pair fixed upon the top of the Tetris machine, where you’ve left your phone.

You emerge into the parking lot. The frigid air stills your mind for a fraction of a second, the last moment of mental quietude you will allow yourself that night.

Hyunjin’s right; the team manager doesn’t have to do much.

Coach Bang allows you to come to whichever practices and games you feel like, during which you might at most lug around a ballbag or fill someone’s waterbottle before holing up somewhere to do your own thing. But you like the people you work for too much to do so little for them, so you attend everything your schedule allows.

Last week, you could be found helping Minho put up the volleyball nets before practice, your laughter echoing throughout the spacious gym as he complained to you about his biochemistry professor’s distinct “cabbage scent.” Or running to grab materials for Changbin as he treated his teammates’ injuries like you were assisting an orthodontist giving someone a root canal. The dinner invitations you extended to Seungmin were always turned down, but his teammates were more than happy to assist you and Hyunjin in your quest to establish the best kimbap joint in the area once and for all. You even had a heart-to-heart with Coach Bang during one of the team’s water breaks, in which you managed to get half a smile out of the guy; Hyunjin was convinced that was his way of asking you to elope. You spent more time in the gymnasium those ten days than you had your entire college career.

Then came the arcade.

Five days have come and gone. You haven’t attended practice since, but you still see Hyunjin every morning at anthropology. The two of you sit in uncharacteristic silence for most of the lectures. You’ve taken the best notes of your life. He doesn’t mention the previous weekend; he doesn’t mention much of anything.

In person, that is.

That Friday afternoon, you’re reading on the terrace of the library when you receive a text. It’s from Hyunjin, a two-minute voice note. You hesitate for a moment, stick a pencil into the gutter of your textbook to save your place, and slip your earbuds in. You listen to it.

Then you listen to it again.

And again as you wrap up your study session and go home. Again as you cook yourself dinner and load the dishwasher. Again as you shrug on a jacket and pocket your keys, setting off on the familiar trek to the gym.

As for what you plan to do there on a Friday night, long after the team has finished practice, you haven’t the slightest clue. You continue to move regardless, fueled by the feeling that there is where you need to be.

Coach Bang is leaving the building just as you’re approaching it. He halts in his footsteps and raises his eyebrows when he notices you. The man has always been difficult to read, but his face is exceptionally opaque now. Maybe it’s the shadowy landscape; more likely it’s the uneasiness that began to mount within you once you noticed the lights in the gym were still on.

“It’s been a while,” he greets.

“Coach,” you return, lowering your head. “I want to apologize for—”

“Save it,” he says, not unkindly. “There’s nothing to apologize for, alright? The team is lucky to have you.”

You manage a grateful smile. “I’ll be back starting next week.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” He starts to walk away, stops himself, and glances into the illuminated building. “I would give him some space, by the way.”

Your uneasiness morphs into anxiety as you watch his broad back retreat into the shadows. You remain outside the gym for a few minutes more, accompanied by the distant melodies of cricket chorales and the muffled squeaking of shoes against laminated hardwood, the harsh sounds of flesh meeting leather.

Briskly, you walk home, rummage around, and return to the gym ten minutes later with your textbook tucked beneath your arm. This time, you unlock and enter the building without a moment of hesitation.

Hyunjin is positioned multiple yards behind the service line, rotating a volleyball in his hands. A high toss, two resounding steps, and a collision like the crack of a whip. The previous ball has barely landed in the furthest corner of the court when he’s picking up the next, retreating to the same spot to do it all again. His tank top is the color of charcoal over his sweaty skin, his hair auburn where it’s plastered to his neck. He’s alone.

You only catch sight of Hyunjin’s face when you descend the stairs. His expression is crystalline, hardened with concentration and fortified by courage, but fragile all at once, rendered delicate by fatigue and fear, spilling from his every seam and splintering off his person like a broken vase. You recognize it as clearly as if you were looking at a picture of yourself from the worst years of your life.

“I was told to give you space,” you call out, and Hyunjin drops the volleyball he’s holding.

His lips fall apart. Nothing comes out of them. The only sounds to follow are your footsteps as you make your way towards the bleachers, a vertical wall of plastic now that they’ve been retracted for the night. You fold your legs into a criss-cross as you take a seat at their base.

“Is this enough space?”

More silence. You gesture to the volleyball nervously.

“Don’t make me go further, please. I’m not ready to die.”

Finally, this earns you a smile. It’s not much, but it loosens the nervous coils in your heart, permits your lungs to contract once more, and it remains on his face as he swipes the ball back into his hands. You open your textbook.

The rest of the night elapses in turning pages and soaring volleyballs. You don’t care for minutes or hours; you give him all the time in the world, as he did you.

The only time you glance at the clock on the wall is around midnight, when Hyunjin hobbles to the middle of the court and collapses. You’re worried at first. Then he rolls onto his back and releases a guttural groan into his hands, and your held breath comes out a laugh. You set down your book and stand up.

There’s a lake of perspiration forming around him. You pay it no mind and flop onto the floor, your eyes instantly narrowing beneath the fluorescent lights.

“How do you see under these things?”

“I don’t,” he returns. “I complained about it to Coach once.”

“And?”

“He made them brighter.” Sounds about right.

Hyunjin spends the next few minutes catching his breath, his chest rising and falling in your peripheral vision. You sift through your mind for phrases of consolation or gestures of support and come up empty. You wish you had Hyunjin’s way with words.

But you think about the way his smile reached his eyes as he thanked you for caring about him, the tenderness with which he caught your hand at the arcade, the I give a fuck about you he blurted before ending the study call. You think about the voice note. It’s not that Hyunjin has a way with words; it’s that he’s brave enough to break the silences that you can’t, like he perceives your anxiety for the aftermath, shouldering the responsibility so you won’t have to.

This cannot be his burden alone.

You inhale. “What’s on your mind?”

Hyunjin doesn’t answer right away. You give up on squinting and close your eyes. The lights are still bright enough to dance around the murky darkness.

“I don’t think I know how to put it into words.”

You nearly laugh; you know how that feels. “Don’t think, just talk. I’m here.”

The same advice you gave yourself seems to work on him as well.

“Do you remember Ishikawa Yuki?”

His role model.

“He’s currently playing for a club team in Italy called Allianz Milano.” He blows out a deep breath. “I’ve been talking to their coach, Roberto Piazza, for the last six months.”

The gears in your head creak in their effort to process the implications of these words. “Holy shit, Hwang.”

“He emailed again, this morning. Said he was coming to the tournament later this month, he’s excited to see me play in person, whatever. And it hit me, finally, that this is all real. Like, this is actually happening to me. I spent all of today freaking out and asked Coach to let me stay back after practice. Usually, it wears out my brain if I tire my body, but it only half-worked today. I couldn’t wrap my head around anything. I still can’t.

“I am who I am because of that man, and now…I have a shot at playing with him. I keep asking myself why I’m not—not happier. I should be bouncing off the fucking walls, no? If I told my past self that this would be happening to him one day, he—he would—”

You open your eyes, confused by the sudden silence.

Hyunjin is sitting up next to you, staring intensely into the bleachers. You first notice the tip of his tongue prodding into his cheek, then his shuddering breath. He lifts a hand to his face, pressing against his eyes.

You stop thinking after that.

You sit up with him. When you settle your fingers around his wrist, he allows you to pull his hand back to his side. But he turns away as if trying to hide from you; he squeezes his eyes shut as if that would obstruct your view of his pain.

You reach to cradle his face, bringing him back to you. The cuff of your sleeves wipe at the saltwater on his cheeks, push the hair off his forehead with gentle sweeps. The two of you are close, close enough that your lips would meet the space between his eyes if you so much as lost your balance. His gaze traverses to your face, but you resolve not to meet it. You know you will traipse into uncharted territory the moment you do.

“Don’t fight it.” You trace over the hill of his cheek. “Healing becomes easier if you let yourself hurt. Trust me, Hyunjin.”

His first name should feel foreign on your tongue, yet you suspect the syllables have accompanied you all your life.

“You don’t have to continue if you can’t.”

“S’okay.” Hyunjin lifts your hand away from his face, presses a kiss to the base of your palm. “I want to.”

You feel yourself stumble ungracefully into the uncharted territory from before; does he do the same?

“I used to play volleyball on this expanse of cracked blacktop, behind my primary school. It was pretty brutal on my feet—I blew through so many different pairs of sneakers my mom almost made me quit.” He smiles at the memory. “But every time I came close to quitting, I’d go home and rewatch the same USA vs. Poland match from the 2008 Summer Olympics I asked my dad to record, and I’d promise myself it would be me on some other kid’s screen someday.

“That kid would tell everyone who’d listen about how cool I am. That I’m a secret superhero. That I’m living proof humans can fly if they really, really try—just like I talked about the volleyball players I grew up watching on my TV.

“The other day, Coach told me that hope would consume me. I thought it was just some senile drivel at the time, but..I think I get what he means now. I would do anything and everything to make that kid proud—even if it meant losing myself.” He lowers his head, auburn strands falling into his eyes. “That’s what’s on my mind.”

Amidst the ensuing pause, a storm approaches. It does not come in the form of rain or snow, sleet or hail, no; it is a gathering of words unsaid and emotions unacknowledged, all emerging from the deepest chambers of your heart in synchrony. The same entities you used to scapegoat for all the times things were awkward between you and Hyunjin when you were the culprit all along. You and your blind cowardice.

The storm tears open the seam of your lips. You do not resist; it’s long overdue.

“Every time Changbin sees you, he turns into a smitten schoolgirl,” you say. “He is physically unable to contain how endearing he finds you. He told me so himself.”

Hyunjin looks at you with widened eyes. You think you can see your own reflection in them, and you are the spitting image of a lighter dropped into gasoline, unstoppable in your vehemence.

“Jeongin comes to you for advice before anyone else,” you continue, “even for things related to school—which I still find hard to believe, I’m not gonna lie. But you have his best interests in mind, and it shows in everything you do for him. Of course your opinion matters more than anything in the world.

“I know you think he can’t stand you, but you are the reason Coach Bang loves this job, why he loves this sport. It’s written all over his face every time he calls you something mean, every time he makes you run another lap, every time he looks at you. You’re like a son to him. Everyone sees it but you.”

“Then there’s me.” You pause to catch your breath. “When I think about what my life used to be, I remember a lot of things. I remember loneliness. Insecurity. I remember my books and my backgammon boards and the way I taught myself to disappear inside them so the world would never find me. I remember avoiding mirrors like a vampire because I didn’t like seeing my own reflection. I remember feeling like I had to put on someone else’s personality every time I left the house because nobody would want to know me for me. All I ever wanted was a place where I could be myself, love myself, without consequence. I have yet to find that place.

“But I found a person. Someone who wouldn’t know time and place if they kicked his dick into his body. Someone who thinks instant ramen is high in nutritional value because it comes with dried vegetables. Someone who sweats the same amount of rain the Sahara Desert receives yearly—your body is not normal, by the way.”

Hyunjin giggles; it is soft and short, a small, tearful huff into the quiet air that makes you feel like you’re flying.

“Don’t get me wrong,” you say. “Your sense of humor sucks and your taste in coffee is so boring and you are the one with no media literacy, not Professor Kim. But I love spending time with you. I love who I am when I’m around you. And none of that has to do with volleyball.”

The next time you blink, you discover that he’s not the only one with tears in his eyes. How long has that been going on?

“There’s so much about you to be proud of, Hyunjin.” You give him a watery smile. “That kid will be spoiled for choice.”

When Hyunjin pulls you into his arms, you fall into each other like going to bed after a long day. Your face burrows into the crook of his neck in your embarrassment; he is laughing and crying at the same time when he mumbles something into your shoulder: “I knew you cared about me.”

You are so happy for the comedic relief you could sob. It helps that you already are.

“How the fuck are you still sweaty?” You choke out, and you think you like his cologne after all.

Six days later, Hyunjin opens the door of his apartment.

A fun-sized flurry of black and white barrages into the hallway outside and almost runs headfirst into the figure waiting there. You fall to your knees like you’ve just been gravely wounded, emitting an ear-piercing wail to match. All it takes is a few good head scratches for Kkami to stop yipping bloody murder and start whining for attention instead.

Upon minute five of watching you and his dog cuddle in the hallway directly outside his home, Hyunjin sighs.

“Can you come inside, please? My RA will think I’m doing some freaky shit again.”

You side-eye him as you walk into his apartment, Kkami perched happily in your arms. “What, exactly, does freaky shit entail?”

He smirks as the door falls shut. “You want me to tell you or show you?”

You turn to Kkami, disgusted. “Your owner’s a bit of a pervert, my dear.”

Kkami licks you on the chin. Hyunjin’s eyes narrow to slits.

“Traitor.”

Naturally, Hyunjin’s parents chose the eve of his final anthropology exam—and the week before the tournament that will determine the trajectory of his career—to ask him to look after Kkami for a few days. He nearly canceled their plane tickets himself, but his impromptu roommate is currently ransacking your face with kisses on his couch, and he thinks your laugh complements his studio better than any decoration.

“Do you want anything to drink?” He calls from the kitchen area.

You meander over, Kkami (still) perched happily in your arms. “What do you have?”

“Alcohol.” He opens his fridge far enough so you can peer over his shoulder. “Americanos.”

He stops speaking.

“Is that all?”

“Yes. Wait—and apple juice.”

“You are about to be a professional athlete.”

“What the Italians don’t know won’t hurt them. You want apple juice, don’t you? I can see it in your eyes.”

“Maybe. Can you open it for me? My hands are full.”

Hyunjin does so with far less reluctance than he feigns. You thank him jubilantly, popping the straw into your mouth.

“Let’s get this over with.”

At 10:32 P.M., all is calm. You are sitting on the floor, your back against the side of his mattress. Hyunjin is where the universe intended: curled up in bed, both him and his laptop lying on their sides. You have studied eight out of ten units in only two and a half hours, and the night is still young. Kkami is but a fluffy, sleepy Oreo by your waist.

At 10:33 P.M., the Oreo begins to retch.

You startle a foot into the air. Hyunjin is out of bed and on his feet in the blink of an eye, the very image of a dog dad on duty. He grabs three different things off the kitchen counter with one hand and scoops up the long-haired chihuahua with the other, and then he’s kicking open the door.

Seungmin appears out of thin air carrying two heaping bags of groceries. Hyunjin nearly knocks him and a month’s worth of fresh produce down four flights of stairs.

“Hyun—Kkami?” Seungmin swivels. “Yo, what the fuck is—”

Hyunjin is already out the door.

A few minutes later, Hyunjin squats off to the side, pouring fresh water into a portable dog bowl. A little ways away, Kkami is throwing up ebulliently; a set of footsteps approaches.

“What is this thing?” Seungmin squats down next to Hyunjin, picking up the piece of patterned fabric lying on the grass.

“Kkami gets sad after throwing up,” he sighs. “His blanket makes him feel better.”

Seungmin watches the chihuahua for a few moments, a soft flinch crimping his features. “He ate too fast again?”

Hyunjin rakes a hand through his hair. “I don’t get it. Nobody’s gonna take his food from him.”

Seungmin laughs. “I didn’t even know he was on campus.”

“I picked him up last night. My parents are traveling for work—they say hi, by the way.”

“I say hi back. I miss your mom’s cooking.”

“Me too,” Hyunjin says, smiling. “She would love to cook for you again—she’s always saying you’re too skinny.”

“She really is.”

A beat passes; it is then that Hyunjin has an epiphany.

Seungmin was the one who put a volleyball in his hands for the first time. Back then, Hyunjin was the lesser troublemaker between the two of them—a concept that neither of them can wrap their heads around to this day. Seungmin suggested they use the clotheslines in Hyunjin’s backyard as a makeshift net, despite Hyunjin’s dissuading; half of Hyunjin’s father’s wardrobe caught on fire, Seungmin had a black eye for a week, and nobody knows what happened to that volleyball. The two of them have been attached at the hip ever since.

It is a crazy thing, having your best friend as a teammate; a singular flick of the wrist or a point of his shoe and Seungmin will know exactly Hyunjin wants the ball down to the net’s fraying fibers; Hyunjin will be exactly where Seungmin needs him down to the flecks of paint on the volleyball court. Hyunjin has always been Seungmin’s hitter—Seungmin, always Hyunjin’s setter. Nothing will ever change between them so long as that remains the case.

At least, that’s what Hyunjin used to think.

Learning that Seungmin was in a relationship was as much a wake-up call for Hyunjin as it was for you. At first, he was just fucking pissed; how could Seungmin be so stupid as to turn down someone like you, especially when Hyunjin had shot his mouth off about his wingman services? More importantly, how long had his best friend of eighteen years been in love, and why was he the last to know?

Only now, as they wait for his nine-year-old chihuahua to finish barfing, does Hyunjin realize that he can’t remember the last time he and Seungmin talked. Not “talked” as in a brief exchange inside the locker room or the lecture hall, about a new approach he wants to try or what Seungmin got on number four or if he wants a ride to practice—“talked” as in talked, about Hyunjin, about Seungmin, about the eighteen years they shared, about all the years yet to come.

Hyunjin sees his setter every day; he stopped looking for his friend a long time ago.

“Yeonwoo, right?”

He senses surprise in Seungmin without having to look at him. But he also senses a smile, a subtle show that Seungmin recognizes what he’s trying to do—and forgives him.

“Yeonwoo,” Seungmin affirms. “We’re in the same songwriting intensive this semester.”

“Also a singer?”

He shakes his head. “Piano player. Performed at the Carnegie Hall in the United States at, like, seven years old. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone so talented.”

“Wow, that’s—hi, old man. You done?”

Kkami walks over with his head hung low and tail between his legs, and Hyunjin hurries to drape the pup in his favorite blanket, pulling the bowl of water in front of him in tandem. Seungmin runs a hand over the top of Kkami’s head as he hydrates.

“You’ve suffered,” he tells him solemnly, and Hyunjin snorts.

“As I was saying—that’s crazy to hear, coming from the most talented person I know. You guys looked so good together.”

“Thanks. It’s weird. I’m happy.”

“You deserve it. You really do, Kim.” They exchange smiles, and Hyunjin gives Seungmin a playful nudge. “When are you introducing us?”

“The arcade wasn’t enough?”

“Don’t insult me.”

“Whenever you want, then.”

“Dinner with my mom, dinner with Yeonwoo,” Hyunjin recounts. “I’m holding you to it.”

“Bet.”

They shake on it. If Hyunjin wasn’t already reassured by Seungmin’s smile, he knows by his clasp around his hand that they’ll be okay.

“What about you?” Seungmin asks. “Are you together yet?”

Hyunjin knew this was coming. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.” Seungmin strings his hands together, letting them dangle in the space between his knees. “Someone you have questions for that you’re too scared to ask. Someone who’s lived in your mind since the day you met. There’s someone like that, isn’t there?”

Hyunjin pokes his tongue into his cheek.

Ever since that night on the gym floor, Hyunjin’s been having these dreams. By the time his alarm goes off in the morning, every detail of the dream has eluded him, leaving behind only a ghost of emotion, akin to the breeze that grazes your face moments after walking past another person.

But then he’ll get out of bed, and walk to that café on the east side of campus, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. There, he’ll order a vanilla latte with extra sweetener, then turn around to see you standing five feet away, holding an Americano and trying not to laugh. And he’ll just know, with everything in him, that you are where his head goes when he’s not keeping watch.

He still addresses you by the pet names you hate. He still finds any excuse to be close to you; he still pesters you like a child with a crush. But now, he calls you his baby like one wishes on a star; his eyes drift to your lips every time you’re within two feet of each other; he makes fun of your likes and dislikes only because he’s happy to know about them at all. Ever since that night on the gym floor.

It’s impossible for nothing and everything to change at once. Two people teetering on the precipice of something cannot withstand a gust of wind so powerful. He’s already hanging off the ledge, losing his grip; where are you?

Next to him, Seungmin lets out a soft laugh. “There is.”

Hyunjin doesn’t know what to say.

“It might’ve been me, at some point,” he hums, returning his hand to scratch the back of Kkami’s ears. “But it has always been you, Hyun.”

Four floors above them and inside Hyunjin’s place, you are pacing between his fridge and his bed, nervously awaiting his and Kkami’s return.

Something catches your eye, wide and flat and hung on the wall by his bathroom door. You approach it curiously, your lips pulling into a fond smile the moment you realize all that’s in front of you.

Many of the photographs are of Hyunjin: him in his preteens, dead asleep in bed while dressed head to toe in volleyball gear, braces visible because his mouth is open; an action shot taken at what must’ve been a U21 match, the South Korean flag stitched into the shoulder of his jersey; him with half a birthday cake in front of him and the rest smeared all over his face. There are headlines, too: Underdog team earns district’s first high school volleyball state title; Hwang Hyunjin proves himself worthy of “ace spiker” label at South Korea V. Croatia U19 match; Coach Bang “Christopher” Chan leads Seoul National University to second consecutive KUL championship. There’s one—Who is Hwang Hyunjin? Meet the twenty-year-old instigant of South Korea’s imminent volleyball revolution—beside which he’s written the singular word “mouthful.” You laugh; you agree.

But pinned to the corkboard is also a photograph of Minho, surrounded by stray cats in the alleyway outside a K-BBQ restaurant; his parents cradling Kkami in an apple costume; his high school volleyball team silhouetted against a pretty sunset. Him and Seungmin as kids, covered in grime and scrapes but beaming nonetheless; him and Seungmin at age nineteen, stadium lights on their backs, unadulterated elation on their faces as they charge towards each other, beaming still. Changbin piggybacking Felix through the hallways of the gym, neither of them wearing a shirt; Jisung offering Coach Bang a beer while the latter looks direly unamused (you make a mental note to ask about that one later); what looks like a Rock Lee cosplayer grimacing in the middle of your anthropology classroom.

You rush forward as if decreed by gravitational force. Not too far away is another picture of you, in which you boast a Miffy headband and a face full of foaming cleanser. Then another, your eyes narrowed like that of a sniper taking aim as you’re playing Tetris; you with so many volleyballs piled into your arms that you can’t see your own face; your cheeks squished by a bandaged hand after you lost a bet about pandas (they can swim); you clutching your stomach on the library floor, brought to hysterical tears by Professor Kim’s email. You, you, you.

You bring your pointer finger to this last image, tracing it over the curve of your own cheek. You see a dimple on your face you didn’t know you had. You realize it only comes out for him.

It has always been him.

The front door opens. A man with telephone poles for legs and a long-haired chihuahua in his arms appears behind it. You sense in him that something has changed since you last saw each other. The two of you lock eyes.

It’s not awkward this time.

Multiple yards behind the service line, Hyunjin is rotating a volleyball in his hands. It feels solid and sentient, an extension of himself held in cotton-clad fingers. He knows how this story will end.

He moves his eyes to his best friend’s back. Four fingers flash back at him twice, signaling a high lob set to the left, the very play they’ve practiced tirelessly for the last five weeks. The breath Hyunjin blows out of his cheeks seems to crystallize in the air, almost solid in all its exhilaration.

He bends low and throws high. His arms drop behind his body like a spread of feathered wings; his feet fall into place below him like a meteor shower, two consecutive strikes against the earth that fissure its mantle. The lights overhead are bright. His palm pulls taut when it slams into leather. He knows how this story will end.

The volleyball tears towards the ground. It trembles as if scared by all that it holds: the guarantee of a flawless denouement, the catalyst of a radiant future. Hyunjin’s heart is beating hard enough to crack his ribs when he lands back on the ground, when the volleyball lands in the furthest corner of the court. He’s not scared at all.

He balls his fingers into fists.

“JUST LIKE LAST YEAR, BACK TO BACK ON AN ACE—”

An arm seizes Hyunjin’s neck; another drags him onto the floor. His head thuds onto the hardwood with a sound he hears over the whole world detonating. His vision fills with the faces of the people he cares for most, some covered in tears and others rivaling the ceiling with their blinding smiles. He can’t feel most of his body; his sweat drips into his mouth. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care.

“—DEFENDING THEIR TITLE FOR THE THIRD CONSECUTIVE YEAR—”

His eyes find Seungmin’s among the fray. Their hands clap together with such force that Hyunjin cusses at the impact. Seungmin’s gaze burns into his with a ferocity that Hyunjin plans to take to his grave. His setter. His best friend.

He says something inaudible, but Hyunjin reads the words off his lips, and his eyes fill with tears: we win everything.

“—YOUR NATIONAL CHAMPIONS: SEOUL NATIONAL UNIVERSITY!”

Hyunjin’s post-game interview is a lawless affair. He is allowed at most half an answer before a new teammate is barreling over with an animalistic screech or a new friend is screaming congratulations from out of frame.

The reporter is visibly agitated by her final question, unpursing her lips to ask: “Is there anyone you’d like to thank?”

Hyunjin exhales. “You want the short answer or the long—”

Changbin seizes him by the head. Hyunjin bursts into a peal of high-pitched laughter as the libero litters kisses all over his face, nearly crumpling to the floor in his attempt to escape.

“Love you,” he yells before hurrying off.

“Love you too, Bin.”

Hyunjin turns a sheepish smile to the reporter.

“The short answer,” she deadpans.

He starts counting off his fingers. He thanks his family—his first and last teammates, his eternal anchors. His other family, his actual teammates, the best boys he’s ever known. His coach, who will let him call him Chris someday. His best friend and setter, Kim Seungmin, who set a clothesline on fire once and changed his life forever.

In the distance, a figure emerges from the locker rooms. There’s a navy blue SNU banner draped over your shoulders, two overflowing duffel bags in your hands. Jisung and Jeongin run over to take them from you, and the smile you give them is wide and flushed, a remnant of the elation you shared from afar. The three of you start walking out of the gym.

Hyunjin thanks you.

You didn’t ask for the position, he tells the reporter, but some idiot roped you into it, and they’re all so grateful that you decided to stick around. You know the team better than they know themselves—it’s hard to believe you’ve been with them for five weeks instead of five years.

What are you like? What aren’t you like, is the better question. You’re caring, smart, strong; you see so much goodness in the people around you, all while unaware that it is your warmth that brings it out of them. Flowers only bloom in the sun’s doting radius, and so did he.

You have the sort of soul that incurs the scorn of the stars. They are the only ones to deserve you, they'd argue; you’re wasting your potential among humans when you belong to the sky, and they’d be right.

Hyunjin pokes his tongue into his cheek, suddenly annoyed.

“Why the fuck am I still talking to you?”

“Pardon?” The reporter returns, but Hyunjin is already vaulting over the bleachers, making a mad dash for the exit. She gives her cameraman an affronted glare. He shrugs.

He explodes onto the concrete, looking around in a frantic haze. He finds the blue banner heading toward the team bus and flanked by his teammates with ease.

He calls out to you.

You glance backwards. Your smile is purely effulgent, your laugh but a faint sigh against the area’s busy thrum. His heart is pounding against his ribs like a battering ram again, but he’s used to this feeling by now. Jeongin and Jisung make themselves scarce.

You’re beautiful. God, you’re fucking beautiful. That was the first thought to enter his mind when he spilled an iced Americano on your lap all those months ago and you looked at him like he hailed from another planet. And it is the first thought to enter his mind now, when he runs up to you and cradles your face in his hands, his touch infinitely, impossibly gentle, and you look at him like he’s everything that has ever existed, everything that ever will.

Tendrils of your body spray reach him from here, floral and light like a tropical coastline. He could’ve counted your eyelashes—if he didn’t have something far better to do.

“Tell me now if you don’t want me to do this,” he whispers.

A stupid smile crosses the face of the smartest person he knows. “My lips are sealed.”

Hyunjin kisses you. He kisses you until the banner around your shoulders is wrinkled under his touch, until your hands are tangled in his hair and aching his scalp, until the breaths you take are breaths you share, passed between your mouths like a puff of smoke before they’re colliding again.

He kisses you until he’s crying, again, until he’s no longer tasting your lips but your grin, and he kisses you only harder when those scornful stars start to dance before him, for you are his, not theirs, and he’s really won everything, now.

“Hwang, I need you in my office.”

Six months later, Hyunjin sees Coach Bang standing a few yards away with a grim air about him. He stops in his footsteps and glances at his captain, confused.

“I know nothing,” Seungmin says, walking away. “Good luck!”

“Thanks, cap.” Hyunjin swears he’s had this exact exchange before.

Head volleyball coach Christopher Bang’s workspace still reminds Hyunjin of a morgue. But there are two picture frames on his desk now: one of his family in front of the Sydney Opera House, the other of a band of boys clad in navy blue, draped over one another in exhausted bliss. The latter lends the room a much-needed sense of vitality. Too bad it still houses a rusty cyborg.

Hyunjin closes the door and takes a seat. Bang taps a knuckle against the tempered glass of his monitor. “Read.”

From: Nicola Daldello «[email protected]» To: Bang “Christopher” Chan «[email protected]» Subject: Re: Allianz Milano V. Pallavolo Perugia practice game Christopher, Allow me to apologize for my delayed response as I shared your request with Chairman Piazza. It is my great pleasure to inform you that we would love for Mr. Hwang Hyunjin to participate in our practice game versus Pallavolo Perugia. The match is scheduled for Monday, October 7th, 5-7 P.M. CET in the Giurati Sports Centre in Milan. Mr. Hwang will be playing for Allianz Milano as an outside hitter alongside Mr. Matey Kaziyski, Mr. Osniel Mergarejo, and Mr. Ishikawa Yuki. Please let me know of your availability to call regarding Mr. Hwang’s travel logistics. His transportation and lodging costs will be paid for by the club. I’m looking forward to speaking with you and welcoming Mr. Hwang to Italy once and for all. Yours, Nicola Daldello Assistant Coach, Allianz Milano

“I told you, some opportunities just present themselves,” Bang says, turning his monitor back around. “As for next steps, I need a holistic calendar view of your entire month of October, including social ev—Hwang, is that foam coming out of your mo—NOT ON MY CARPET! HWANG!”

In a park about a ten minute walk away, a small crowd of elderly people are scattered across a few stone tables, hunched over the fading chess boards painted into the granite surfaces. Mrs. Choi whisks away Mrs. Baek’s king with a triumphant yelp.

“I knew it, I knew it, I knew it! That opening is unbeatable!” She swivels towards you, shaking a fist threateningly. “You! Get over here. Your reign is over.”

You are sitting cross-legged in the shade of a broad magnolia tree, clearing out your storage. You tried to take a picture of a particularly rotund pigeon to send to Hyunjin earlier and couldn’t even do that. It was then you decided you couldn't live like this anymore.

“As excited as I am to beat you again, Mrs. Choi, I need ten more minutes,” you call back.

She presents you with an unpleasant hand gesture. You turn your attention back to your phone, grinning. Two new notifications sit at the top of your lock screen.

Hyunjin: Omw now. Sorry had to talk to Chris Hyunjin: Same park? Y/N: yes Hyunjin: Who’s our opponent today Y/N: mrs. choi Hyunjin: Not that bitch again Y/N: ?

He’ll be here in eight minutes.

You return to the task at hand. You’ve already cleared out your apps, your documents, and videos; all that’s left is the audio files. You conduct a quick mental review. Surely you’ll live without your downloaded music and accidental voice memos.

Instead of hitting the “delete” button, you extract a pair of tangled earphones from your jacket pocket.

You go back to your texts with Hyunjin, open the shared attachments tab, and scroll for a long time before you find the voice note he sent you seven months ago.

He finds you a sobbing mess.

“Hey, hey, whoa.” He’s on his knees in an instant, gathering your hands into his, a world of concern in the brown of his eyes. Your earbuds fall out and clatter onto the cement below. “Baby, what’s happening? Are you okay?”

“Yes,” you say in a flustered haste. “Yes, I’m okay. I don’t—I don’t really know what’s happening.”

“Did that hag do this to you?” He asks this question so seriously. “I’ll beat up a senior citizen, I don’t give a fuck—”

“No!” You let out an ugly laugh through your tears. “No, no. Leave Mrs. Choi alone.”

“Then what is it? What’s wrong?”

Eventually, your vision clears enough for you to look at the man kneeling in front of you. His roots grow out longer every day, his hair by now nearly equal parts gold and black. A spot of sunlight infiltrates the magnolia leaves and lands on his left eye, turning it the hue of melted bronze.

Your fingers drift to the sides of his beautiful face as you lean in close; he smells like a combination of smoky rose and tropical coastlines.

“I’ll tell you later,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his hairline.

He is dissatisfied with this, hooking a pointer finger beneath your chin, guiding your face back to his. He laves the saltwater from your lips, your tongue, and then you’re smiling again, barely able to remember why you cried in the first place.

You rest your foreheads together. “Have I told you that you look like a bumblebee these days?”

He smiles. “Does that make you my flower, then?”

“Because you’re irresistably drawn to me?”

“No, because I wanna put my pollen in—”

You shove him away. “You are grotesque.”

He returns in a flash. “You love me.”

You kiss him again. And again. And one more time for good measure, during which you mumble I do against his lips, and then you remember something.

“Why did Coach hold you back, by the way?” You pull away, tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. “Are you in trouble again?”

“No, no. The opposite, actually.”

Your brow furrows. “The opposite? What—”

“In this lifetime, please,” Mrs. Choi hollers from the chess tables. You roll your eyes. Hyunjin smiles helplessly.

“Duty calls, my love.”

“Tell me your thing later too?”

“Of course.”

You dust yourself off and stand up, making your way to the battleground. But not before you whisper to Hyunjin, “now watch me beat up a senior citizen.”

He laughs with his whole body, his eyes the shape of crescent moons, his mouth a little rectangle.

“Hypocrite.”

Hyunjin: [1 Audio Message]

This is my seventh take and I’m not recording an eighth. What you get is what you get. I don’t care anymore.

I understand if you don’t wanna talk about what happened at the arcade. I wouldn’t, either. I just wanted to say that you don’t have to do this tutoring thing anymore. I won’t be able to fulfill my end of our deal, so…yeah, it wouldn’t be fair to you. You’ve already done so much for us. For me.

As for team manager, you’ll have to talk to Minho and Coach Bang if you wanna quit. Doesn’t sound like a fun conversation, I know—but if that’s what you decide, I’ll have your back. They don’t scare me. Well, they do. Sometimes.

You’ve been…distant, this week. I’ve known peace and quiet for the first time since we met, and I fucking hate it. I realized I couldn’t care less if you’re my tutor or my team manager or whatever—I just don’t want you to be a stranger. Maybe that’s selfish of me to say, but I’m tired of pretending the idea of losing you doesn’t terrify me. It does. It truly fucking does.

I’m gonna end this here, because I almost just stopped recording on accident and I would’ve committed first degree murder if I had to do this all over again. Sorry that this got so long, and…I’m sorry about everything. You deserve better.

Come back to me whenever you’re ready, okay? I’ll be waiting.

🔖 (send an ask to be added)・@astraystayyh・@like-a-diamondinthesky・@fire-08・@starsandrqindrops・@txtxlz・@laylasbunbunny・@strayghibli・@nuronhe・@seungminsapuppy・@vivisoni・@moon0fthenight・@sweetpickledjins・@svintsandghosts・@nhyunn ・@ur-boyfiend・@liknws・@hotgorloikawa・@randomwimp・@automaticpersonabatpaper・@aceofvernons・@linos-kitten・@newhope8・@weedforthoughtz・@hyunverse

2K notes · View notes

shoverse · 6 months

Text

| • skz hyung line — caught simping for them • |

📁 pairing; bangchan x gn! reader, lee minho x gn! reader, seo changbin x gn! reader, hwang hyunjin x gn! reader

📁 cw; swearing, nsfw joke, furry joke

📁 a/n; if this doesn't turn up in tags i'll cry ☹️ ENJOY PLS ILY

#01 — bangchan • 방찬 !

#02 — lee minho • 이민호 !

#03 — seo changbin • 서창빈 !

#04 — hwang hyunjin • 황헌진 !

3K notes · View notes

notsosweetchan · 1 month

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ʚ♡ɞ Size kink (Hyung Line) ʚ♡ɞ

Warning : Smut

Paring: | Hyung Line x Reader |

Chan

. He won't even admit he has a kink

. But you discover that the slightest size difference can get him riled up

. Loves maneuvering your body so he can have you pinned down

. Will slowly put it in to watch it stretch you out

. Grinding into your core until you're screaming his name and soaked within second

The stretch of his cock has you moaning uncontrollably as he slowly slides it into you , filling you up inch by delicious inch. Your walls clench around him, gripping him like a vice, and he groans in deep satisfaction at the sensation.

He grips your hips, fingers digging into your skin as he holds you prisoner beneath him, owning every part of you in this moment.

"Damn, you feel so good," he pants out, his breath hot against your ear. "So tight and wet for me." His words fan the flames of your arousal even more, and you arch your back, silently begging for more.

He chuckles, a low rumbling sound that vibrates through both of you as he obliges, sliding in to the hilt with one smooth thrust.

You whimper, the sensation of being so full, of being so completely and utterly claimed by him, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

He begins to move then, slowly at first, as if savoring every single thrust. Your nails dig into the sheets, leaving behind shallow imprints as you fight to stay grounded in this realm of pleasure.

"That's it," he growls, his voice a dark whisper in your ear. "Let me hear you scream for me."

Minho

. Has a thing for when it hurts

. Seeing you struggle to take it is such a turn on for him

. It’s even better when you try to stop him from skinning his cock deeper into you

. Has no shame when it comes to degrading you from how easily you cum from him splitting you open

“Poor baby does it hurt “,he coos as he continues to relentlessly pound into you. His hips colliding with your ass cheeks with a ‘smack every time he slams back in. You moan out, your eyes water up from the immense pleasure and pain shooting up your spine.

“You were begging for it earlier”, he reminds you with a smug smile on his face. You gasp, trying to ignore the sting and the ache of your inner walls stretching to accommodate his length. But it only seems to fuel his need, his desire to make you feel every inch of his girth.

You can feel the head hit that sweet spot inside you with every thrust, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

“Minho, it’s too much” you whine out you whine out , your nails digging into his sheets. Minho slaps your cunt hard, making you yelp in pleasure. “ That’s not what your pussy is saying ”, he growls lowly.

You bite your lip to stop yourself from screaming out profanity at him. He chuckles lowly, as if he can read your mind. “ Go ahead, scream for me, let it out .” You tense up, but the pleasure is too much , the agony and pleasure coiling inside you unraveling.

“Fuck Minho , fuck me harder !!”Minho's smirk widens at your plea, and he delivers. He angles his hips to hit that sweet spot inside you even harder, driving you both further and further into the abyss of pleasure “That's it baby, cum for me.”

Changbin

. This mf has a fuckin thick cock

. Always will take his time to prep you for his cock

. Sliding it in hurts every time

. Doesn’t like to see you in pain, he’ll kiss you to distract you from feeling pain

. Lots and lots of praise

“Bin…“, you whine , your nails digging into his back as he slowly slides his thickened length inch by inch into your aching core.

He kisses your neck, sucking the sting away as he bottoms out inside you, stretching you further than you ever thought possible.“Shhh , it’s okay baby , I got you” he soothes, his hands roaming up and down your spine , trying to calm you down .

“You’re doing so well he praises, his voice laced with pride and lust as he begins to move , rocking his hips in a slow, motion.

His grip on your hips tightens as he picks up the pace , your moans spurring him on.

"You feel so good, baby," he moans against your ear, his breath hot and erratic. "So fucking tight." His praises send a shiver down your spine , your walls clenching around him in response ."That's it," he groans, dropping kisses along your jawline. "Tell me how good it feels."

"Fuck, Binnie," you moan, unable to form coherent words as he picks up the pace. "It feels so fucking good ."He growls in response, his hips slamming into yours with more force. "That's it, baby. Take it all."

Hyunjin

. Doesn’t even know he has the kink until he met you

. Loves to get your cunt nice and wet to make it easier to slide in

. Gets off on your whines and whimpers you make when you take his cock

. When he goes deep and you spasm around him he goes insane

“Hyunnie... too deep!” You whine out, your voice hoarse from the intensity of his thrusts, his cock filling you to the brim. “ pretty I’m sorry you feel to good, you can take it baby. I’ll go easy I promise “ he panted out , his thrusts slowing down but still emphasizing his girth.

He angles his hips , finding that spot inside you that has you seeing stars.“Hyunjin!” you scream , your cunt clenching around his length.

“Fuck me baby, show me how much you love it” he growls , his grip on your hips tightening as he plunges even further into you. His cock hitting every part of you , his thickness stretching out your walls, making room for him and only him.

“Baby ! oh god !” You scream out as waves of pleasure crash over you, your orgasm ripping through your body like a tidal wave. Hyunjin doesn’t stop however, he continues to pound into you , chasing his own release . “ Fuck baby, you feel so good, how does it feel to have me splitting you?”

“I- it feels so good Hyunnie , I never knew I needed this”, you panted out as he continued to thrust into you . “God, your cock feel so damn good and big inside me”

“You’re so wet , you love it don’t you? Taking my dick inside that tight pussy”.

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arcanesea · 5 months

Text

pet names | hwang hyunjin x reader | 519 w.

"What did you just call me?" Hyunjin scowled. His hands once again placed on each hip. It was impossible to not laugh at the scene, and that made him even more enraged in all the endearing ways possible for you.

"Hyunjin," you whine as he walks out of the room. Following him to the kitchen, you quickly circle your hand on his torso, trying to put your chin on his shoulder, but fail miserably because he keeps shaking you off. You laugh at his antics. All this because you called him by his name and not the designated pet names you both had for each other.

"I don't know any Hyunjin," he said, running away from you once again to the couch.

"That's literally your name," you exclaimed, half laughing. You sat next to him, nudging his feet with your own, trying to annoy him. He quickly grabs a pillow to prevent you from trying to use the hug attack. "Hyune," you called again, this time with a more common nickname.

He didn't budge. Not even a twitch of an eye.

"Baby?" you tried another one with a softer one. That sure earned you a little sarcastic smile from the man himself. He looked down at you, still not impressed by your whole shenanigans. He pressed his body even further into the couch, leaving no space for you to slip your hand.

"No," he said, squinting at you.

"What do you mean no?" you jolt back in surprise. Mainly because that's what you always call him. Baby. Just like the pet names, he's the biggest pouty baby you've ever known.

Hyunjin looks as if he's thinking something before you notice the mischief in his eyes.

"I want new pet names," he said, smirking. You looked at him, gears starting to run in your head.

"Honey?" you offer softly. He placed a finger under his chin before tickling you, making you fall from the couch. He saw this coming and held on to your body before you could hit the floor. He sets you down on the floor gently before attacking you with tickles again.

"I'll stop when you give me one I like," he laughed maniacally.

"Sorry! Sorry!" you exclaimed, trying to escape from his grip. "Boobear! Boobear!" you shouted in between laughs. Hyunjin laughs along with you, refusing to stop.

"Love, my love," you offer another one, starting to run out of energy. Hyunjin seems to think for a few seconds before he stops tickling you.

"I like that," he said, pushing the hair on your face away so he could hold it.

"You know it was just a prank, right?" you ask, out of breath.

"I do," he smiles playfully before placing a kiss on the tip of your nose. "Now we're even." You roll your eyes in annoyance, smiling nevertheless.

"I'll get you some water, stay here," he said before standing up.

You saw another chance, propping yourself before you opened your mouth and shouted, "Thanks, bro." Immediately bolting away to the room with erupting laughter.

Hyunjin let out a deep sigh, speechless and definitely unamused.

a/n. my honeybun, pumpkin, choco pie, this is so cliche please don't attack me it's sounds better in my head

#stray kids au #stray kids imagines #stray kids fic #stray kids scenarios #stray kids drabbles #stray kids fluff #stray kids x reader #skz au #skz imagines #skz fic #skz scenarios #skz drabbles #skz fluff #skz x reader #hyunjin fic #hyunjin au #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin fluff

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astraystayyh · 1 month

Text

The snow falls, we fall apart.

summary: when heartbreak looms on your life, and winter becomes a time you loathe, hyunjin helps you rewrite your memories with the season, and with it, everything you once believed about love.

genre: producer student!hyunjin x reader. roommates!au. friends to lovers. acute descriptions of heartbreak and general sadness. slow burn. hurt/comfort. healing and hopeless romantic hyune. very inspired by long for you so lots of pining and yearning. (wc: 13k)

warnings: mentions of alcohol. it is implied that reader was in an a very toxic relationship but no details are shared.

a.n: happy birthday to my hyunjin, my muse, my light. thank you for being so full of love that it made me love love again in return. this is i think my most personal piece, and i hope it reminds those who need it that love should be soft and kind, that it shouldn’t hurt, that it should heal not break. i love you guys and i love you my xi, writing this collab with you has been a true honor <3 also!! please listen to long for you while reading :,)

winter falls masterlist.

You’ve only ever felt utter despair twice in your life.

First, when you were seven years old, playing hide and seek with your cousins at your grandma’s house. It was a warm summer afternoon, the air sweetened by pastries you devoured hours ago. You decided to hide in a wooden cabinet up in the attic, only to end up stuck there. The walls felt like they were closing in on you, the oxygen seeping away from the cracks underneath the door, leaving you deprived of air, of life.

Second, at twelve, when you've come to discover sorrow's new facet, clad in grief's heavy cloak. Your parents adopted a hamster for your birthday, but they did not know he had a terminal disease. You were distraught, to say the least, when you awoke to its still form, death claiming a frail heart unaware of its imminent fate.

And now, third, many many moons later, you are knocking on Hyunjin’s door a few minutes after midnight. It is cold out, tears tracing rivulets on your cheeks, your fingers tinted pink from roaming outside in the harsh winds, your heart much heavier than when you were a child. More grief-stricken, at your own hands, this time.

A disheveled Hyunjin opens the door, his blonde ash hair tousled and sticking upwards, a clear indication of the many times he had run his hands through it in fits of frustration. His gray hoodie zipped up hastily, revealing the silver cross necklace he was wearing, nestling perfectly against his honeyed skin.

You've always had an aversion to seeking comfort, saw it as revealing your deepest vulnerabilities to a world that isn't always kind. It was easier, much simpler to do so when you were a clueless child— when you sank in your cousin Lia's hold as she attempted to steady your breathing, when your mother cradled you in her lap after Pinky died.

It is much harder now, much more embarrassing because Hyunjin has never seen you this sad, never glimpsed your shadows that now swarm his doorstep, unannounced.

“What's wrong?” he quickly asks, eyes darting over your figure in a rapid search for visible wounds. He wouldn’t find any. All your injuries stem from within— blood doesn’t have to be spilled for your heart to weep.

You had rehearsed a lie as you walked up to his doorstep. You would say that your car broke down near his place and ask if you could stay over for the night. He would insist he could drive you to your place and you’d refuse, saying that it was too late and you did not wish to bother him. You’d sleep on the couch and slip away in the early hours of the morning.

Yet, it is the genuine worry etched in his eyes that dismantles the fortress you've hidden in, melts the lie in your throat, morphing it into a steel lump coiling in your throat. He looks concerned when all you’ve had directed towards you recently was anger. And you missed someone looking at you in care, not reproach.

“I didn’t know where else to go.” You admit, your voice shattered, fragments of your vocal cords scattered out in the wind like a broken mosaic, the sound of it scraping against your ears.

Blow one hurt. It felt like your body turned against you as it deprived you of oxygen. The sobs that escaped you once you perceived the light pained you, perhaps more than being confined in the darkness.

Blow two was even worse, it was your first time experiencing grief. It was too hard of a concept for your innocent heart to grasp, too complicated for you to find solace in anything as adults do.

You promised yourself that you’d reserve blow three for monumental agonies— big pains and big sorrows only. That’s how you managed to keep all your tears at bay for most of your life. Would they be worth losing your third sob for? No, you've always found the answer to be.

And in all the twisted scenarios you’ve conjured up in your mind, deaths and illnesses and the haunting tale of failure, you did not imagine that it would happen on Hwang Hyunjin’s doorstep. That you’d burst into sobs at the compassionate look in his gaze, and the sad smile he sent your way. As if he knew, as everyone did around you. That you had handed a knife to a serial killer and it was only a matter of time before he stabbed you in the heart.

Two weeks ago.

“I’m trying to understand you but you aren’t helping me,” Seungmin is frustrated as he paces relentlessly before you from left to right like a swinging pendulum. You sit on the couch, beholding only his shoes, avoiding his gaze that would reflect the truth you dare not confront.

“He’s sucking the life out of you, can’t you see that?”

You can, out of everyone that surrounds you, you can see it the most. You feel as if you are carrying a skin that isn’t your own, weighed down by a relationship that has taken everything from you. But admitting it is admitting that you were wrong, in trusting him, in loving him. You couldn’t bear it.

“We are fine!” you shout back, the defiance in your voice surprises even you. This is a familiar script with Seungmin, a recurring conversation spurred by your puffy eyes and diminishing appetite. He tells you, begs you to leave, but where could you go? How could you leave a home where you've shed all your treasured belongings at the door— your skin, your bones, your very self.

What place would welcome you now that you're stripped bare of your soul?

“When was the last time he made you smile, huh? All he does is hurt you, and you...” he chuckles incredulously, running his hand through his hair. “You are letting him.”

Deny, deny, deny.

“This isn’t true. He loves me,” the words taste foreign in your mouth like rusty metal dragging across your lips. A small voice whispers that love shouldn't feel like this, but you quiet it down.

“Are you hearing yourself? Yn, I…” he kneels before you, his hands resting comfortingly on your knees. This is Seungmin, your best friend of five years. You know he has your best interests at heart, you are even more sure of it when his voice softens, shakes slightly when he utters your name. “Yn, please. I’m trying to help you. Please.”

“I didn’t ask for your help,” you push away his hands, standing up. “I don’t want your help, and I don’t need it.”

You quickly leave Seungmin’s dorm, your heart heavier than when you entered it, foolishly hoping that he'd ignore your distressed state after yet another fight with your boyfriend. But Seungmin doesn't understand, no one around you does— you’ve gambled your heart, and you cannot stop drawing the cards, even in the face of losing strikes.

❁ ❁ ❁

Hyunjin offers you a cup of tea with a gentle smile and you grab the steaming drink from his hands. The smell of chamomile wraps around your senses, and your brain fizzles out for a second before the soothing aroma. But it is a fleeting respite, the tempest of your thoughts crashes back onto you with an unsettling force, causing you to almost drop the drink as your hands shake. You place it down the table without taking a sip.

“I’m sorry for coming unannounced,” you apologize, wincing at the intrusion, “I hope I didn’t wake you up.”

“I always sleep late. Don’t worry about it,” he smiles, but you know it isn’t a genuine grin, because his eyes betray an unsubdued concern, refusing to morph into their usual moon crescents.

You’ve always thought that Hyunjin wears his emotions openly— when he laughed, he did so loudly, his boisterous giggles traveling around Seungmin’s dorm. When he hurt himself, everyone in the vicinity would know so from his loud yelps. And when something worried him, he would bite his lip, toying with the plush flesh to ease his nerves.

As he is doing now. Looking at you.

“We broke up,” you quickly say, and your words hang over you like a gloomy cloud. “But I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Do you want me to fight him? I’ll bring changbin too,” he suggests a serious tone underlying his playful offer, and it manages to tear a reluctant giggle out of you.

“Changbin doesn’t know me well enough to fight for me,” you counteract and he shakes his head. “He’ll fight for me, I'm his princess.”

“Are you now?” The giggle escapes your mouth less forcefully, and the smile that graces Hyunjin’s face is a genuine one.

“I am. My proposal stands,” he extends his hand and you wrap your fingers around his palm. “Thank you, I’ll keep it in mind,” you smile but he frowns, flipping your hand around in his hold.

“You are freezing,” he whispers, using his other palm to rub warmth into yours.

“It’s fine,” you lie, slipping your hand out of his grasp, not feeling deserving of his kindness.

Wordlessly, Hyunjin stands, walking into what you assume is his bedroom. You only know of his place because you dropped off Seungmin here some time ago. You are too exhausted to even drink in the interior.

“Here,” he returns, handing you a navy hoodie of his and black joggers. “This will keep you warm at night.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, hesitating for a few seconds before speaking again. ��Can you please not tell Seungmin, I... I can't face him right now.”

“Of course. I’ll be awake still if you do need something.”

Hyunjin’s clothing is warm, although peeling away your own garments felt like shedding layers of your skin, as if the fabric melted into your very flesh, just like memories from the day did. You have never felt this worthless before, discarded like a forgotten leaf on the roadside, one he stepped on for his own enjoyment, leaving you crushed in his wake, unable to fly away again.

Hyunjin’s rose perfume wraps around you, and you find relief in sleeping somewhere where your, his, scent was no longer around. You foolishly hope that if you close your eyes hard enough, you’ll manage to convince yourself that you’re someone else, tonight. Someone who isn’t tethered to the heartache, someone who can slip away from the clutches of a love that hurts more than hate could ever manage to do.

❁ ❁ ❁

Heartbreak isn’t beautiful, no matter how eloquently you try to dress it in the syllables of poetry, no words can soften the burn in your lungs, the searing ache that courses through your very core, reminding you that deep within, down to the fundamentals of your being and the most basic alchemy that ties your atoms together— you are unlovable. Whether you cut your hair or allow it to grow, change your heart, or leave it as it has always been, you will remain so.

You don’t remember much of the past week, blurry fragments here and there that float in your mind like a distorted water reflection. There is little room for memories when you are busy trying to remember how to breathe— one inhale in, one exhale out. The simple concept seems harder when there are unkind hands permanently lodged into your heart, squeezing it tight.

What you do remember is telling Seungmin through text the next day, because you couldn’t bear the way his eyes would soften if you spoke to him in person. No signs of surprise cast on his figure, because he knew that it was long coming, a train with one final inevitable destination— you in shambles, him okay.

You remember Seungmin cradling you in his arms when he came to see you, and you trying desperately to keep the tears at bay— too focused on pinching your arm to let Seungmin’s warmth radiate through your being, Hyunjin lingering uncomfortably by the entrance of his living room.

You remember begging Seungmin to grab your belongings from the apartment you shared with your ex because you were unable to face him, him, and everything that your old place spelled out for you. Stand in the ruins of what you once thought would be your permanent home.

And now, you watch as Seungmin and Hyunjin bring suitcases full of your stuff into the latter’s place. And you feel like an outsider in your own body, standing at the corner of the room gazing at utter destruction, unable to stop it, unable to mend it. Seungmin quickly reassures you that you could crash in his and Minho’s place until you find a new one to live in, already taking out his laptop to search for new apartments for you.

But you did not care for it, your eyes zeroed in on the satin shirt peeking out of your suitcase. The one he bought you on your first month anniversary. Back when love felt like a gentle feather running down your spine, and not a dull knife slicing away at your skin.

“This place's expensive too,” Seungmin sighs, rubbing his temple warily. Your logical best friend could not fix your heartbreak but he took it to heart to alleviate your other troubles. You would thank him for it, later, when your tongue finds enough will to move.

“What if you move in with me?” Hyunjin suddenly says and his words filtrate through the fog in your mind easily, as if he rehearsed them enough times so they’d roll out smoothly out of his mouth. “I mean, Felix is away for the next year since he went back to Australia. And I was looking for a new roommate anyway.” He shrugs and Seungmin turns to look at you, his eyes convey the question his mouth doesn’t articulate— is it okay with you?

“I don’t…” your voice is croaked, so you clear your throat. “I don’t want you to do things out of pity.”

“I’m not. If I was, I would've told you to move in with me for free. I still need you to pay rent,” he raises his eyebrows, a playful tease and you smile in relief, nodding, “Okay, I will. thank you.”

Heartbreak is ugly and all-encompassing, weaving through the roots of your heart and infecting each organ with its insidious touch. It renders you immobile, incapable of performing the simplest tasks, burdened by a weight unseen by the world. But you try your best, your very best to contain it.

You smile at the cashier as she hands back your money only to wonder if her soft, well-manicured hands would too crush a soul without remorse. You go to all your classes without fail but your mind is elsewhere, contemplating why the sun filtering through the windows no longer warms your skin. Can nerve endings perish when subjected to too much pain? What's left of life when you can no longer feel the caress of the sun?

You watch a movie at Seungmin's dorm but your mind is elsewhere, fleeting to this morning and how you refused to stay in the shower for more than three minutes because your thoughts might become haunting ghosts tempting you to follow them. You brush your hair and spray your perfume, only because you have to, because you live with Hyunjin and you wouldn’t want your sadness to taint him too. You wonder how long you’ll have to bear it. You wonder if it’ll ever leave you or if the veins in your heart have molded themselves after the pain and they wouldn’t know how to accept happiness anymore.

You greet Hyunjin as he walks past you, shaking your head when he asks you if you want to eat dinner with him, quickly retracting back into your room. You have ten unread messages and a pile of growing laundry you need to do, but all you can muster is to gaze at the empty walls, mirroring the void within you. Your mom told you to call her again and you don’t know how you’ll speak to her without bursting into a sob, how you’ll tell her that all it took was one person to break you. Or maybe it was two people, your hands and his tearing apart your flesh and bones. Maybe that’s the worst part about it. So you don’t call her.

And you only ever emerge from your room when you need to, just like now because your water bottle is finished and you need to refill it. You go to open the kitchen door when you hear Hyunjin’s muted shatter, Felix’s distinctive deep voice coming out of the phone speaker.

“Next you add the melted butter and stir it,” Felix instructs, the sounds of pots and utensils clinking in the background. You fidget slightly, mustering the strength to paint a fake smile on your lips.

“What next?”

“Sift the dry ingredients then add them to your wet mixture,” Felix explains, met with a few seconds of silence. You can almost visualize Hyunjin's perplexed expression, blinking rapidly in confusion.

“Explain it to me like I’m five years old,” he requests, prompting a small smile to etch itself onto your face.

“How are you surviving without me?”

“I’m not please come home,” Hyunjin sounds horrified as Felix’s rich chuckles fill the air. “Why do you suddenly want to make brownies anyway?” he then asks.

You go to open the door when Hyunjin’s response catches you off guard.

“They’re for Yn.”

Hyunjin's words resonate in the air, causing a hitch in your throat and Felix’s teasing whistles simultaneously, but Hyunjin is quick to stop him. “No, no, no, it’s not like that. They’re just a bit down and I remember them loving your brownies. So…”

It takes you a fleeting moment to dig the memory out of your mind, a year ago, right before your ex came to pick you up from Seungmin’s dorm. You had a bite of Felix’s brownies, a surprised gasp escaping your lips at its delicious taste, back when food had taste and happiness came easily to you. It was an insignificant memory, you did not imagine Hyunjin, out of everyone, would remember it.

But he did, and he’s now pacing before your closed door, contemplating how he’ll convince you to finally eat something with him. He throws a thumbs-up in the air for no one but himself, inhaling deeply before knocking on your door.

“Hey,” he greets with a hopeful smile, his gaze meeting your tired form. He hesitates for a second, clearing his throat. “Brownies?” You remain unmoving and he falters, “Hm? Please?”

“Sure,” you nod and a wave of relief floods through Hyunjin as you step out of your room. His joy is short-lived when he takes the brownies out of the oven, only to find them thoroughly burnt.

His mouth hangs agape, and he walks back shamefully to the oven, lowering its door only to scream inside of it.

“This will be more therapeutic,” you say, pointing nonchalantly to the fridge and he agrees, opening its doors and yelling once again in the much larger space.

Your melodic laughter fills the kitchen, Hyunjin’s embarrassment is suddenly a forgotten memory.

“I’m craving kimbap. Should we get it instead?” you propose, a touch shyly and he quickly agrees, afraid you’d change your mind and walk back to your room where he can no longer ensure you are okay.

Hyunjin absentmindedly dances along to the music blasting through the convenience store when a girl sidles up to his side, a saccharine grin on her lips as she looks up at him, “hi,” she greets and his tentative smile mirrors hers. “Hey.”

“Are you single?” she asks, her gaze briefly fleeting to the window. “I think you are really cute.”

“I’m…” he glances at you but you're suddenly engrossed in the ingredients of the tuna kimbap you are holding, pretending not to listen. “I am but I’m not interested, thank you.”

“Oh, come on,” she places a hand on his arm and he physically recoils. “Give me your insta and we could talk.”

“No,” he repeats, grabbing her hand to remove it when a loud voice startles him. “Baby, what’s taking you so— What are you doing?” Hyunjin watches in horror as the girl’s eyes grow wide, before she scrambles to the man’s side, feigning fear.

“He kept hitting on me when I said I had a boyfriend, baby.”

“What?” both you and Hyunjin gasped in comical unison. He would find it amusing if not for the escalating anger radiating from the man, who looks like he spends all his days in the gym. Hyunjin suddenly regrets not working out with Changbin.

The man strides towards Hyunjin. “Do you want to die?”

“No? there’s a misunderstanding,” he replies, swiftly standing before you and shielding you with his arm. “Your… baby,” he wiggles his finger in front of the man's face, “she was the one hitting on me!”

The man scoffs loudly, his face growing redder from the anger seething in him. “So you hit on my girlfriend and then accuse her of cheating?” His fist rises threateningly, prompting Hyunjin to step back, accidentally bumping into your chest.

“Wait, wait, wait! Let’s go talk outside, man to man,” Hyunjin pauses, his voice taking on a taunting edge, “unless you're too scared?” he smirks as he feels you pull at his shirt, whispering an incredulous- “What are you doing?” He shakes his head, grabbing your hand and leading you outside, throwing a sly wink at the man behind you now.

“Are you seriously going to fight him?” you ask, your gaze shifting towards the deranged couple who are about to step out of the grocery store. “No, of course not. I'm a lover, not a fighter.”

“You said you'd fight my ex,” you point out and his eyes soften surprisingly.

“You are an exception.” He looks back at the man, who's now walking towards you both. “But anyways, do you know how to run?” he asks and you frown, “who doesn’t know how to—” you pause as realization dawns on you. “No," you whisper furiously.

“Yes.”

“No,” you shake your head, horrified and he nods, eyes apologetic.

“Yes.” His fingers entwine with yours, he squeezes your hand once before he takes off running.

“Hwang fucking Hyunjin!” you shout and he looks back at you, a mischievous smile on his face. “I’m sorry Yn my face is too pretty to be beaten up.”

“He’s following us!” you yell, looking back horrified as the, even angrier, man runs after you.

“Well, run faster!”

“I’m wearing fucking slippers!” you curse and he giggles, tipping his head back, the wind slamming into you both, his hand never letting go of your own.

“Oh my god why is he still running!” you groan and Hyunjin picks up speed, moving you even closer to his sprinting figure

“I know, is it ever that serious?” he yells above his shoulder and you dig your nails into his palm.

“Shut up, this wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t so gorgeous.”

“So, you think I’m pretty too?” Hyunjin grins proudly and an incredulous laugh escapes your lips.

“Really? Is this what you’re getting out of this situation?”

“Silver linings, Yn, silver linings,” he shouts as you round a small alley, finally stopping to catch your breath. You both fall to the ground, heavy breaths escaping your chests.

“Holy shit, I’m not athletic at all,” he heaves, his eyes meeting yours. He expects to find anger lingering in your gaze but all he can grasp is your amused smile before you collapse into a fit of laughter, clapping loudly and clutching your stomach with your hand.

“Oh my god, I’m crying,” you laugh harder, wiping away at the tears falling from your eyes. Hyunjin’s weariness disappears in the blink of an eye— he did not realize how much he missed your smile until he glimpsed it again. And it is beautiful. Happiness looks beautiful on you.

“Idiot,” you hit his shoulder playfully, and his response is delayed for a few seconds, the warmth from your smile rendering him immobile.

“I’m sorry,” he chuckles, pulling you up. “Here, I’ll carry you home,” he squats slightly before you. “How impolite of me. How dare I make your majesty run.”

You shake your head, amused, before climbing atop his back, his warm palms holding your thighs securely. “Only because the slippers hurt my feet.”

You walk in silence for a while, your arms wound up around Hyunjin’s neck, the ghost of a smile still lingering on both your faces.

“They said it will snow tomorrow,” Hyunjin speaks suddenly and you stay silent for so long he starts to wonder if you even heard him.

“Mm? That’s nice,” your tone is melancholic, and he pauses at the peculiar sadness in it— as though you were trying to act nonchalant about something that has once meant the world to you.

“Don’t you like the snow?” he asks and your hold on his neck falters.

“I loved it. Loved ice skating and building snowmen.” Your voice is light and airy, like Hyunjin’s favorite mint chocolate ice cream. “But now it reminds me of bad times, bad memories.”

“I understand.”

Hyunjin knows what it feels like to relinquish parts of yourself you never wished to part from. For someone to grab your happiest places and to cast a gloomy filter atop them. Sometimes it is the loss of a season that hurts more than the departure of a person.

And Hyunjin loves winter.

He’ll do everything so that you’ll come to love it again too.

❁ ❁ ❁

Is it a nightmare if the person in it is one you once loved, looked forward to beholding with your gaze, hoping they’d never slip out of your reach? You don’t know, but you are growing tired of having the same dreams every night. Of waking up with an exhaustion that goes beyond your restless sleep but pleads from your soul to rest after almost a year of torment.

You sigh wearily, rubbing a hand through your face before walking to the kitchen to retrieve a glass of water. You find Hyunjin there, eating a cupcake while standing shirtless, scrolling through his phone. You blink at the sight.

“Hey,” you clear your throat and he startles, dropping the cupcake on the ground. He goes to pick it up only to bang his head on the table, a loud yelp escaping his lips. You barely contain your giggles as you walk to his side, rubbing your palm soothingly on his head. “I'm sorry I didn't mean to scare you.”

“At least pretend you are sorry,” he mumbles, pointing to your amused smile and you chuckle, taking his hand and helping him to his feet.

“What are you doing up now?” he asks as he grabs some napkins to clean up the pink frosting smeared across the floor.

You hesitate for a few seconds before whispering, “Just nightmares. And you?” you quickly add, not keen on pushing the subject any further.

“I'm working on a song,” he explains, as his gaze lingers on your sunken eyes, weighed down by dark circles from too many sleepless nights.

“And the cupcake?”

“Some people need caffeine to function. I need flour.”

“I literally see you drink three americanos per day.”

“Okay well maybe I need both,” he admits sheepishly and you grin, drumming your fingers along the countertop.

“Can I sit with you while you work?” you ask quickly, before the words linger enough in your mouth that you no longer wish to spit them out.

The smile that Hyunjin sends you is kind, pushing the shadows of your nightmares just slightly out of reach.

“Of course, yeah you can. Don’t even need to ask.”

Hyunjin walks first into his bedroom, quickly slipping on a hoodie while you take in the interior. It is a quite simple room— a large bed with gray covers, and a desk filled with what you assume to be his producing equipment sits adjacent. But what catches your attention is the dried rose hung delicately on the wall, and the array of paintings surrounding it. You edge closer to it, drawn to the well-crafted paintings— a sun-drenched beach, a couple lost in an embrace so intimate their forms can no longer be separated, and an elderly pair riding a motorcycle, their love radiating vibrantly as if enclosed in eternal youth.

“You paint?” you ask, turning around to find Hyunjin watching you. He steps closer, enveloping you once more in the fragrance of his rose perfume.

“In my free time.”

“You are amazing, Hyunjin,” you compliment sincerely, your gaze fixed on that imagery of the old couple, one that most likely grew together. It tugs at your heartstrings, stirs a painful longing within you, a memory of a time when you too believed you’d find such boundless love.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, before brushing his fingertips gently against your forearm, for a fleeting second. “Are you okay?” he asks, a tenderness you’ve been aching for latched into his question. Your eyes refuse to peel away from the paintings and the love spilling from each paint brush stroke, a love that refuses to rest on your being as if you were harboring an armor that repels it.

“No,” you reply sincerely, turning to face him. “It’s really hard,” you say with a smile, hoping that the mechanical display of happiness would keep your tears at bay, tricking your brain into believing you're not as sad as you feel.

It fails to do so, and the tears well in your eyes like a gathering storm. Frustration twists your features as you shut your eyes, tilting your head upward in a desperate attempt to contain the flood. It pauses as Hyunjin cradles the back of your head, drawing you close to the warmth of his neck. His palm glides soothingly along your spine, before patting your back ever so gently.

Your back stiffens, hands curling into tight fists, breath catching in your throat. You've grown accustomed to pushing away comfort, putting up tall barriers to shield yourself. But tonight, Hyunjin seems to break through your defenses.

Tonight, you soften, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, head nestling deeper against his tender skin.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he whispers and another sob wracks through you, but he only holds you tighter. “It’ll get better soon.”

“I loved him,” you hiccup, your voice breaks, “a lot.”

“I know, that’s why it hurts.” His voice is gentle, and yet his hold on you feels secure as if you could stumble and fall, and he would be there to catch you

“I want it to stop hurting.”

“It will, with time.”

Your next words are tinged with a childlike vulnerability, reminiscent of blow one, then two. But you do not care for it, in that instant, you crave the reassurance, you need someone to plant a seed of hope in your soul because your hands are too frail to dig for it.

“Do you promise me?”

His response doesn’t come hastily, carelessly thrown into the air like idle chatters. He takes his time, considering it with the gravity of an oath.

“I promise you.” He finally says, each syllable infused with sincerity. A brief pause hangs in the air before he adds. “And if it doesn’t then you can hit me.”

“On your pretty face?” you ask, a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself.

“On my pretty face,” he confirms with a chuckle.

“What an honor,” you roll your eyes playfully as you lean back and he grins, tenderly wiping away your tears with the back of his fingers.

“I can't believe it took three minutes for you to cry in my room. This isn’t good for my reputation.”

“Good thing this will never leave this bedroom, right?” you point a finger at him threateningly, and he pretends to zip his lips, tossing away the imaginary key. “You got it.”

“So what are you working on?” you ask as you settle on the edge of his bed, knees drawn up to your chest.

“It’s a pretty sad song, wanna hear?” he offers, sitting across from you on his chair.

“Yeah, I'd love to,” you smile, and Hyunjin deftly adjusts a few buttons, before his melancholic whistles weave through the air, coupled with the somber melody of a piano. Your breath catches in your throat, the music reaching into the very depths of your soul. It's as if the notes are calling out for a loved one, for a time that has long passed, for a past that will never come back no matter how much we long for it.

The instrumental continues, each piano note and each violin string echo like a bittersweet lament, springing tears to your eyes. But the melody remains beautiful, akin to the beauty always found in the sadness— in the tears that cascade down your cheeks like glistening crystals, in the tremble of your hands akin to branches swaying in the wind, in the rise and fall of your chest with each breath, mirroring the ebb and flow of the waves.

Hyunjin watches you intently as the music envelops you both, his gaze softening with each passing moment. You bring a hand to your chest, almost unconsciously, too engrossed in the melody to even blink. He feels a blush sprout on his cheeks as your teary eyes hold his with the last fading guitar strings.

“You keep on making me cry,” you whisper, your voice choked with emotion, and he grins, tilting his head shyly against his shoulder.

“You like it?” he asks, a tad eager and you nod, not bothering to wipe the lone tears that are falling down your cheeks.

“I think this is what my loneliness sounds like,” you confess softly.

“As do mine.”

A silent beat runs between you both, it isn’t uncomfortable, but safe. Because you understand him, just as he understands you.

“Sometimes I long for things that have passed," he admits, “although I know I can't get them anymore.”

“The most terrible thing you can long for is yourself.”

“Because no one’s to blame for that loss but you?” he muses and you nod, a sad smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah, exactly.”

You bite your lip, casting a glance back at the paintings adorning the wall. “I don't love him anymore,” you begin quietly. “I stopped a long time ago because there was no room for love anymore to grow amid weeds and thorns.”

He remains silent, sensing that this is a weight you need to unburden yourself from.

“But in the midst of it I think I stopped loving myself too,” you whisper, a confession too terrible to be uttered out loud. “That's what I long for. The things I used to love that I'm indifferent to now.”

“Like you’re a stranger before everything once familiar to you.”

“Yeah, you express it prettily,” you remark with a small smile.

“It's my job,” he grins lightly.

“I think when your heart is pure,” he begins after a while, pausing to carefully choose the words that will soothe your burn, help sleep come more easily to you. “You give love to others more readily than you do to yourself. And it takes time, patience, to redirect that love back to your own heart once again. But it's not a mistake to love, you shouldn’t hate yourself for it. Nor should you blame your past self for loving the wrong person because they did not know what you now do.”

“Think of it as a caterpillar in their cocoon,” he continues gently, “when they finally emerge from their chrysalis, they might long for who they were, where they once were because it is the only place they've ever known. But they do not realize that they've transformed into a beautiful butterfly, that they can now fly, and witness much more than their chrysalis. So maybe, your new self will love the same things as before, or maybe you’ll find new, better things to love that you would have not known before. But in either way, your heart is beautiful. That is what matters, no?”

A small pout draws on your lips, your eyebrows scrunched as you gaze at him.

“You have a very tender soul, Hyunjin.”

Your words linger in Hyunjin's mind long after the sunrise, as you lay peacefully asleep on his bed. The melody of the instrumental he produced continues to play faintly in the background, serving as a gentle lullaby that eases you into slumber, entwined in his sheets, your arms wrapped protectively around yourself, one hand cradling your shoulders and the other resting gently on your stomach. The image sears into his eyes as he sketches the outlines of a figure holding itself absentmindedly, long into the night.

Hyunjin has had his fair share of compliments, mostly pertaining to his face, and others to his craft. but it is you who seems to have sensed that a part of his soul resided in his art, that he left pieces of his heart hidden in the notes he composes and the lyrics he writes, hoping they’ll find soft hands that will take care of them, just like your own.

Five days later.

hyunjin [11:34 p.m.]: are you home?

yn [11:34 p.m.]: yeahh, do you need anything?

hyunjin [11:35 p.m.]: come downstairs, im waiting for youu

if you say no i’ll freeze to death..

hurry i can’t feel my fingers anymore (please please) ㅠㅠㅠ

“This better be a life and death situation Hwang Hyunjin,” you say threateningly as soon as you appear before Hyunjin, causing him to straighten up from the wall he was leaning against.

“It is a very dangerous life-altering situation that requires your immediate assistance, indeed,” he responds solemnly, ushering you gently to his car and opening the door for you.

“Which is?” you ask as soon as he settles inside the car and he simply grins at you, his left dimple coming forth like the very sun on a gloomy day.

“You’ll see.”

Hyunjin’s eyes fleet to your figure every now and then, but you do not seem to notice, your gaze lost into the blurring lights ahead. He can tell you're still not entirely yourself, so he was prepared to forcibly drag you along with him. He’s almost surprised you accepted to come down so easily.

“Is that… Seungmin?” you speak suddenly, pointing to a man waving in the distance, as Hyunjin parks his car near an empty field.

“And Changbin? And Minho?” you continue, squinting your eyes, “and a bonfire?” you giggle with a hint of excitement.

“You love s’mores during the winter, right?”

Hyunjin smiles, your soul softens.

“I do,” you say quietly, “I really do.”

You quickly exit the car, running into Seungmin's arms with a grin of disbelief plastered on your face. “This is insane,” you almost shout, squeezing him tight in a hug.

“It was so hard to find the perfect middle of nowhere for this,” Minho grumbles as you move to greet him, but the warmth of his embrace assures you he's only teasing.

“Thank you,” you say with a smile as you hug Changbin, who affectionately ruffles your hair. “It was Hyunjin’s idea,” he reveals, and you glance back at Hyunjin, who stands with his hands buried deep within his sweatpants behind you. You mouth a silent “thank you” to him, but he shakes his head modestly as if it is nothing to bring happiness to a bruised heart.

The night unfolds in endless laughter, with Minho and Hyunjin taking turns roasting marshmallows over the crackling bonfire, and Seungmin serving you hot coffee to keep your hands warm. Your stomach aches from the uncontrollable fits of giggles that overtook your being as Minho recounts the time he danced so vigorously on stage for his dance club that he ripped his pants, feeling a breeze where there shouldn't be one; and Changbin tells you the story of the time his voice cracked in the middle of a rap battle, and how none of the boys stopped teasing him about it for months to come.

And as the four of them take turns making you laugh, a quiet, tender realization dawns on you—you are loved. It is something he tried to convince you was impossible, that no one around truly cared for you but him. And even then, you weren’t deserving of his love whole, only scrapes of it, as if you were a beggar tugging at the outskirts of his heart.

But Hyunjin reminded you otherwise. And if your friends found something worthy of love within you then perhaps so will you again, one day.

“Did you have fun?” Hyunjin asks as he opens the door to his, your, apartment hours later. What he doesn't expect is for you to respond by wrapping your arms around his slender torso, squeezing tight in gratitude.

“Thank you,” you whisper and he nods, though you cannot see him, returning the embrace by wrapping his arms around your shoulder blades.

Hyunjin doesn't let go first, sensing that perhaps you need this hug more than he does. He smiles as your eyes meet his again, but his grin falters when he notices your gaze flickering towards your bedroom, a hint of unease clouding your expression. It's as if behind that door lie monsters only you can grasp, wearing the faces of people you once knew, once loved.

“Wanna stay with me while I work on the song?”

“Last time I ended up sleeping on your bed,” you say a bit shamefully, recalling the morning you woke up to find yourself covered with a thick blanket that wasn’t there before, alone in Hyunjin's room.

“It's okay,” he shrugs, “I missed sleeping on the couch.”

You stare pointedly at him and he chuckles, “Fine, I did not miss it. But you needed the sleep, so it’s okay with me.”

“Fine,” you concede, though you did not need much convincing for it. “But only if you promise you’ll wake me up if I end up falling asleep again.”

Hyunjin tilts his head, thinking to himself for a few seconds before shaking his head stubbornly, a small pout drawn on his face, his eyes semi-closed. “No.”

“Hyunjin!”

“Nu-uh,” he insists, shaking his head once more as he walks back towards his room. “I'm waiting for you!”

“I'm not coming!”

But you do eventually join him, after changing your clothes and washing your face. You find Hyunjin clad in beige and white checkered pajamas, his glasses pushing back his silky hair as he hunches over his journal, scribbling away before erasing what he wrote.

“Struggling with lyrics?” you ask, leaning against the wall and he startles. “Do you float on the ground? Why can I never hear you come in?”

“Or maybe you just love being dramatic,” you sing-song, laying atop his bed, much more at ease than the previous night.

Hyunjin sticks his tongue out childishly in response, and you playfully mimic the gesture before both of you dissolve into happy giggles.

“Kind of,” he explains once you both settle down, “I have this specific feeling in mind that I need to convey.”

“You'll do well,” you reassure softly, “your lyrics are always so beautiful. Remember Cover me?” you smile and he scratches the back of his ear, a shy grin spreading across his face.

“You still listen to it?” he asks and you nod eagerly, attempting to belt into Seungmin’s ending high note. You fail horribly and Hyunjin throws a crumpled piece of paper on your face to get you to stop singing.

“My poor ears,” he laughs loudly, and you retaliate by throwing back a pillow on his head.

“You just don’t get my artistic abilities.”

“I’d get them more if you stayed silent.”

You gasp, faking offense as you stand up to tickle Hyunjin on his chair, he starts squirming immediately, his loud giggles spilling all over the room, coating it in vibrant hues of happiness, and you’re suddenly captivated by the sight of him— his head thrown back, a golden lock framing his laughter-filled eyes, his top lowering slightly to reveal glimpses of his collarbones and the delicate veins that trace enticing paths on his neck.

You pause, your hand hovering over the side of his stomach, as a long-forgotten warmth spreads through your heart, like the first rays of dawn greeting the earth after a long winter night. It doesn’t diffuse quickly through your being, but rather drapes like sticky honey on your veins, making you well aware of your growing blush, of how beautiful Hyunjin is in his joy.

“Never singing to you again,” you clear your throat, laying atop his bed once again, and quickly reaching for your phone, anything to avoid his eyes which rival the crescent moon outside his window.

Hours pass before a warm hand gently settles on your shoulder, rousing you from your slumber. Blinking away the fog of sleep, you find Hyunjin leaning over you, his grin wide and infectious. “Wake up,” he whispers, but you only groan, burying your face deeper into his pillow.

He doesn’t yield, taking hold of your wrist and guiding your drowsy figure upright, before wrapping the blanket snugly around your shoulders. Without a word, he leads you out onto his balcony, carefully putting his neon green beanie on your head to shield you from the cold.

“It’s snowing!” he smiles, and his excited tone manages to dissipate the fog in your mind. You blink repeatedly and soon enough, you too behold the fallen snowflakes, each one resembling a tiny speck of light bidding farewell to the sky to greet the earth.

“You missed the first snow so I didn’t want you to miss this one too,” he explains, and his thoughtfulness blankets you with a warmth that seeps into every crevice in your body, drips down your fingertips and makes the cold of 4 a.m. seem less harsh, less biting to the touch.

You don’t know how to say thank you, because those two words don’t encapsulate the depths of gratitude that you feel for Hyunjin. Because he is speaking to the person within you who still loves snow, the part buried underneath layers of dust from a ground heartbreak. But you still manage to hear him, and you squeeze his hand tightly, and he doesn’t let go until you finally do.

❁ ❁ ❁

Remembering has become easier for you these past two months— both the good and the bad. And each day, the scale tips towards one side or the other. Sometimes you recall the suffocation you felt with him, the feeling that no matter what you did you could never please him, that your hands were crafted to break rather than mend. And on those days your wound grows, it throbs and bleeds different emotions.

Sometimes it's anger— at him for treating your heart so carelessly as if you were a being devoid of feeling. And then at you— for staying, for giving him excuses and desperately searching for goodness within him, for the one redeeming quality that would convince you he was worth the pain.

And other days bring an excruciating sadness along, a weight that presses down upon you until you're paralyzed. Because you feel bad for yourself and for everything you went through. Because you’re unsure how to rise when unseen hands push you deeper into the abyss.

And on these days, Seungmin becomes your anchor. He buys your favorite food, skips classes with you, and takes you to your favorite gardens. He talks and he talks and you try your best to laugh because you do not wish to worry him more. It is enough to be your own burden, you do not wish to burden him too.

But when he drops you home, your facade slips away, the smile fading from your face as if it were never truly yours to wear. You are too tired to pretend so you don’t, and Hyunjin doesn’t let you, either. He brews you tea and orders takeout because he knows you lack the energy for cooking. He goes with you on walks and drapes you in pieces of his clothing— scarves and beanies and gloves because he knows you couldn’t care less about a cold when there is a frost coating your bones. He lets you sit in his room while he works on his songs, and while he paints. Sometimes you talk and often you don't need to. But he’s there. He's there with you.

But you also remember the good. You remember your movie night with the boys, Hyunjin building an entire fort for you, adorned with twinkling lights and the softest blankets. How you watched movies until 5 a.m. your bodies so closely huddled together that there was no room left for sadness.

You recall Hyunjin begging you to build a snowman with him at the crack of dawn, the two of you collapsing in fits of laughter as you threw snowballs at one another, your footsteps marking the fresh fallen snow.

You remember being so exhausted after one of your showers that you simply laid atop the couch, gaze fixed on the void, too drained to even untangle the knots in your hair. Yet, it is not the tiredness that you exactly recall, nor the salty tears you shed underneath the scorching water jet. But it is Hyunjin's tender hands as he brushed through your hair, his fingers tracing the nape of your neck, his knuckles ghosting over the slate of your shoulder. You remember whispering that it was a particularly hard day and Hyunjin understanding. You remember him watching many YouTube tutorials to prepare your favorite seaweed soup, only for it to end up being too salty. But you still ate it all, because he made it for you, to lift your wounded spirits. And that alone was enough for it to taste good.

You remember your heart hardening then softening again, breaking then stitching itself back together, closing off then blooming like flowers on the first day of spring. You remember smiling only to cry then smile again. And you remember liking snow, a bit more than you thought you would. Because Hyunjin was there, holding your trembling hand, steadying it enough for you to rewrite your memories with winter.

So, you want to say thank you.

You do not wish to spell it out, because there are too many things to thank Hyunjin for and too few words to do so. Instead, you drag him to the farmer’s market near your home, and you tell him to help you pick flowers.

“I could be in bed watching my favorite show and yet here I am bestowing you with my enchanting presence,” he sighs, not too modestly, as you both eye the array of colorful blooms.

“Okay, Shakespeare, are you done?” you roll your eyes, attempting your best to hide your grin.

“Done annoying you? Never. These are very pretty,” he adds, pointing to the white roses in full bloom, their delicate petals emitting a sweet fragrance into the air.

“I agree, what else should we add?” you ponder, picking out four roses.

“Mm, Hibiscus? The red in the center is so vibrant,” he suggests, taking out his phone to capture the flower.

“Cute. Baby breath’s would look good too,” you say as you gather the flowers, heading to the cashier with Hyunjin trailing behind, still admiring the delicate blooms.

“Can I write a note?” you ask the middle-aged man as he wraps the bouquet in a powder blue paper.

“Sure,” he replies with a smile, and you return the gesture, quickly jotting down your words.

“Are you done?” Hyunjin grins when you return to his side and you nod, exiting the flower shop.

“What do you think?” you ask, angling the bouquet towards him.

“It's beautiful.”

“It’s yours,” you smile, growing shier at the intensity of his gaze as it lands on you, then the flowers, then on you again. “Take it,” you hand it to him, your cheeks flushing like the hibiscus’s crimson core.

“Actually?” he says softly, his fingers trembling slightly as he accepts the flowers and you nod in response. You bite your lip as you watch him take out the note, his eyes softening once he reads the words inscribed in it— thank you for making my winter less cold.

“Should we go?” you say a tad too cheerfully, turning away, but Hyunjin grabs your wrist, spinning you around once more. His fingers trail up your arm, coming to rest gently on your cheek as he leans down to plant a tender kiss there.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, his lips lingering against your skin for a moment longer than necessary. You think that if his soft lips grace your skin a few times more, your nerve endings might forget the harshness they were subjected to. If his gentle hands remain on your cheeks, then maybe, your heart would heal quicker, better. Maybe your past self that you long for would emerge again, maybe Hyunjin would be able to unearth it.

Your hopeful thoughts disappear as quickly as they arrive, overshadowed by a sense of helplessness that crashes over you, all of the sudden. You sense him before you hear him, the familiar anxiety that is only synonymous with your ex’s presence.

“Yn?” the sound of your name feels harsher in his mouth, the syllables spat out rather than spoken tenderly, as they are when Hyunjin pronounces it. Your veins run cold as his voice pierces the air, your heart skipping three beats at once before plummeting to your knees. You wrap your hand around Hyunjin’s forearm instinctively, and he looks down at you, his expression morphing into one of concern.

You’re unsure of what he sees in you— whether it is your pale face, the quiver of your lower lip, or the fear that has coated all your features— but his eyes harden, his brows furrowing as he gazes at the man behind you.

You refuse to turn around, bracing yourself for his next words. “Yn,” he repeats his tone laced with anger, his fingertips grazing your arm as if intending to force you to face him. But before he can touch you, Hyunjin intervenes, swiftly stepping in between you and your ex, shielding you with his own body protectively.

“Leave,” Hyunjin's voice is cold, dripping with a venomous edge you've never heard from him before, his jaw clenching with barely contained fury.

“Is this your new shiny toy, Yn?” your ex taunts and his voice cuts through your being against your will, triggering a flood of memories you've tried so desperately to suppress. Memories of his cruelty, his manipulation, and the pain he inflicted upon you—using your love as a weapon to bolster his own ego.

“What's in it for you?” you find your voice again, though it trembles when you speak. He is the very embodiment of your pain and everything you loathe about yourself. You wish for the ground to swallow you whole, for a bolt of lightning to strike the earth, anything to spare you from facing him.

“It's only been three months, I didn't know you were a whore.”

Hyunjin's fist connects with his cheek before you can register his words. It all unfolds so rapidly that you barely have time to comprehend it. Your ex staggers back, blood trickling from the cut on his lip, while Hyunjin stands before you, his chest heaving with restrained anger, his right hand clenched into a fist, the bouquet still held tightly in the other.

“Fine, I deserved it,” your ex chuckles, his voice laced with mockery as he wipes the blood from his lip. His gaze meets yours briefly behind Hyunjin's back.

“You might not be a whore but you are unlovable, keep that in mind.” He spits out before walking away, crude words that tear at every scab covering your wounds, reopening them with a brutal force. Hyunjin moves to follow him, but you grab his shirt, pulling him back.

“He’s not worth it,” you murmur.

Your words seem to snap Hyunjin out of his haze as he turns to look at you, worry cast across his figure. He moves to cradle your cheeks but you step back, refusing to meet his eyes. He swallows thickly, clutching the bouquet in his hands. “Are you okay?”

You let out a heavy sigh, your shoulders slumping as you shake your head slightly. “Let's just go home,” you whisper, eyes fleeting to his for a split second. All the lights in your gaze are muted.

You’re crumbling before him once again and he cannot stop it, no matter how much he yearns to.

It's long past midnight when you find yourself seated on the floor of your living room, a bottle of red wine placed between you and Hyunjin. You exchange it wordlessly, taking turns sipping from it, the alcohol warming your insides but doing little to ease the ache in your heart. You don’t exactly recall when Hyunjin sat next to you, but you don’t mind. You were too lost in your own thoughts to even register his presence.

“Yn,” he calls out softly and you hum absentmindedly, memories of when your ex spoke your name haunting you, each time he yelled your name, uttered it in disdain as if it was the starting point of everything wrong with you.

“Talk to me, please?” he pleads, angling his body towards your own. But you refuse to meet his eyes and Hyunjin’s heart twists in his chest. He is afraid of all the ugly thoughts that must roam your mind. He wishes he could enter it, open the windows wide, and usher the light in.

“I'm sorry you were dragged into this,” you say, your gaze fixated on the bouquet placed atop the table. The crimson painted on the hibiscus’ petals reminds you of the blood that spilled from your ex’s mouth, and your gaze fleets to Hyunjin's hand, slightly bruised from the punch.

“Don’t apologize,” he whispers, “there is nothing to be sorry for.”

It’s as though you don’t hear him, your fingers trailing gently across his scraped knuckles, tears pooling in your eyes the more you stare at his hand.

“Does it hurt?” you ask, voice thick with emotion, and Hyunjin’s quick to shake his head. “No, don’t worry about it. He deserved it.”

“You didn’t deserve to be hurt.”

“Neither did you.”

Your disbelieving scoff that follows scares him. What if you’re slipping away into a dark place yet again, one void and barricaded, in which the only sound that echoes is your ex’s hurtful words? What if he can’t reach you again?

“If the only person I’ve ever loved says I’m unlovable then maybe I am.”

You’re drunk, you wouldn’t have said such an ugly thing otherwise, wouldn’t have allowed this sentiment to materialize into the air, to take a tangible form apart from your abstract thoughts.

“No,” Hyunjin says in a panic as though he’s trying to quickly pull the brakes on your free-railing thoughts. He cups your face between his palms, your tears falling freely atop his hands but he does not move away.

“No,” he repeats, more calmly this time. “How he treated you is a reflection of who he is. And how you see him is a reflection of who you are. And you wanted him to be loving because you’re full of love. You wanted him to be good because you are a good person. And he can’t stomach that, can’t stomach that you are happy without him so he’s trying to ruin you again.”

“Hyunjin…” you shake your head but he only inches closer to you, his thumbs gently caressing your cheekbones. “No, listen to me. Seungmin loves you so much he couldn’t eat properly for the first few days you stayed here, texted me all the time asking me how you were and if you were feeling better. He isn't good with words so instead he tries to make you laugh. He wishes he could give up parts of his happiness for you.”

A sob swells within you but Hyunjin presses on. “And Minho, he tried to memorize all your favorite recipes so he could cook them for you. It isn’t a coincidence that every time we go over to their dorm it is your favorite food that we eat. He takes more pictures of his cats these days so he could send them to you because he knows it cheers you up.”

“You told me Changbin doesn’t know you well enough to fight for you but when we saw your ex across the campus one day he wanted to get up and beat him. He always asks me if you are well and if there is something he can do for you, anything.”

He inhales deeply, tears welling up in his eyes as well. “And me…” a tender smile graces his lips as he gazes at you, “you make this house a home. I feel like my true self when you are around and loneliness doesn’t come to me as often as it did. Because you are here. You are like a beam of sunlight that lightens up every life you touch, mine first,” he’s baring his soul to you, vulnerable yet resolute. “So tell me, Yn, what’s not to love in you when you yourself are so full of love?”

“Hyune,” you speak the nickname for the first time, and Hyunjin’s heart thrashes achingly around his ribcage. “If you keep talking like this I might end up loving you,” you smile sadly at him as if it is a terrible thing to be loved by you.

“But I don’t want to love you, because I won’t know how to, not anymore. So I'll end up leaving. And I'll long for you, and I don't think I can stomach longing for you from afar.”

“So please,” you place one hand atop his own, wipe away the lone tear rolling down his cheek. “Don’t make me love you, hm? You deserve more than to be loved by someone like me.”

You leave Hyunjin in the living room, alone before the white flowers you gifted him. He doesn’t want to put them away in a vase, for as soon as he grabbed them from your hold, everything around you both crumbled. So he leaves them there for the night, the creamy white petals aglow underneath the moonlight. He spends the night painting the bouquet from memory, but the petals end up too tinged with red, perhaps mirroring the blood his heart refuses to stop spilling still.

He did not realize it before, maybe he blinded himself so he wouldn’t see what was before him all along. But it is all the clearer to him now— that in his attempts to make you love winter again, Hyunjin only ended up loving you.

A week later.

hyune [1:25 a.m.]: i miss you

You and Hyunjin spent the last seven days avoiding one another, well you more than him. He just understood your silent plea when you took a step back the one time he tried to talk to you in the kitchen, swallowing thickly before inching away, allowing you to move past him.

You did not know how to face him after what he said, partly because you were embarrassed by your own response, mostly because even in your drunken daze, his words etched themselves permanently into your memory.

It is his reassuring words that echoed in your brain for the past week, not those of your ex.

hyune [1: 26 a.m.]: and i miss sleeping on the couch

You giggle, shaking your head before replying.

yn [1:26 a.m.]: no you don’t

hyune [1:26 a.m.]: no i don’t ㅠㅠ

but i finished the song

wanna hear?

Walking to Hyunjin’s room feels as familiar as going into your own. And when your gaze finally meets his you can’t help but break into a relieved smile. It was foolish of you to punish yourself, enough people have done that for you already.

“Hey,” he greets tentatively, and you respond with an awkward wave, a moment pregnant with anticipation passes before both of you dissolve into laughter.

“What is this? Are we in middle school,” he teases and you giggle, settling comfortably on his bed once more.

“I know. We are so lame.”

“You are,” he corrects with a grin and you gasp, pretending to leave but he quickly catches your hand, stopping you. “No, please stay. I meant it when I said that I missed you,” he repeats quietly, as if afraid that his confession would make you run away once again.

Your heart aches, the knots in your stomach tightening and unraveling all at once. “I missed you too,” you admit softly, and he smiles, his thumb tracing a gentle path above your pulse before releasing your hand.

“So it's done then?” you ask and he nods, running a hand through his hair with a hint of anxiety. “How do you feel about it?”

“Good. I hope you’ll like it, mostly.”

“I'm sure I will,” you reassure him with a soft smile, and he nods once more, pressing a few buttons before his melodious whistles fill the air once again.

Nothing could have braced you for the sound of Hyunjin's voice that followed, its timbre soft as silk yet imbued with profound sorrow. It's as though he recorded the song on one of his loneliest nights, his honeyed vocals dipped in an excruciating nostalgia that seeps into every corner of the room, every corner of your heart.

In the faded photo, I come across a smile spread across a youthful face, overlapped with the seasons.

Your gaze flickers to Hyunjin as a shadow of recollection dawns on you. You remember telling him that you couldn’t stomach looking at pics of your past, ones in which you smiled so freely because you were blissfully unaware of what was to come.

The night’s so cold that it’s almost unreal.

Because you weren’t aware of the winter that will follow and the biting cold that it would bear, for everything that will go astray in your relationship, for your ex's facade to crack like a glacier succumbing to the pressure of lies and pretense.

I wake up in another silence, and I close my eyes.

You remember Hyunjin confessing that silence haunted him more than words ever could, and you had agreed, sharing how sometimes you shut your eyes, pretending that the reality you woke up to wasn't the one you were living.

The white flower we planted together has bloomed. I do not dare pick it. Now it withers away.

You gaze at the white flowers you brought him, now wilted in the vase placed on his desk, yet Hyunjin refuses to throw them still. You see the card you wrote for him hung on the wall, right next to the dried red rose. He kept it. Though it withered, he kept it all.

So I long for you. And I long for you. And I'll long for you.

You remember the longing you both spoke of, how he understood a feeling you felt so incredibly alone in. How he tried to reassure you when he too was caught in the webs of the past. How you longed for him in the past week. How you wished he longed for you just the same.

So I can keep loving you. So I could be loving you. And morе.

The violin swells and so does the emotion in your chest. You remember him asking you ‘What’s not to love in you’ and how you've spun those words in your thoughts ever since. You remember thinking that if he gave you a few more weeks, just a bit more time, you might have found it in you to believe them.

You see Hyunjin’s glimmering eyes holding yours, you see his heart atop a platter handed to you, and you see the resignation in his being. Don’t make me love you, you told him. You didn’t dare to tell him not to love you in return, deemed it too foolish of thought to entertain.

For he was Hwang Hyunjin, the quiet producer who paints in his free time and who wears his heart on his sleeve. Who remains hopeful, loving, and tender, despite the thorns pricking at his side. Who is beautiful, so much so that he allowed you to see beauty in the universe once again, through his eyes.

How could he love you?

How could you not love him?

“The song,” you whisper, the words barely escaping your lips as you stand, trembling, on your feet. Hyunjin rises too, meeting you in the center of his room.

“It is about you. For you,” he says simply as if his words don’t cause your world to burst at the seams only to mend itself once again, too eager to fix itself and exist in the same timeline as Hyunjin.

“I don't… I don’t know what to say,” you say earnestly, feeling your heart pound in your chest, its beats resounding loudly in your ears.

It is wrong of you to assume he wishes you to say something. He is Hyunjin, the one who finds words in your silences too, after all.

“I don’t need you to say anything,” he shakes his head, taking another step closer to you. “I don't want an answer, I don't wish to pressure you. I just wanted to tell you that my love is here, it is yours to take or to leave, to cherish or to discard. But it is yours, because this is who I am. I am someone who loves you.”

“So do not tell me to forget you because I don't know how to. And don’t tell me that you’ll leave because I will love you still, because you’d still be you, near or far, you are you. And you are someone I long for.” He pauses, his voice softening. “And I long for you, Yn, more than anything I've ever longed for. And I've spent all my life longing.”

His lips meet your forehead tenderly, and you feel your entire being grow limp at the chaste kiss, as if your limbs wish to liquefy and form a puddle on the floor. His touch is soft, and you miss it the moment he parts from you.

“There must be something in this room that keeps on making you cry,” he smiles and you bring your hands to your damp cheeks, surprised to find there tears you didn’t realize had fallen.

“It’s you,” you pinch his arm playfully and he squirms away from your hold, stabbing his toe on the desk in the process. A loud fuck echoes around the room, and your laughter dissipates the tension clinging into the air.

“Can you play it again?” you request softly and Hyunjin’s theatrics fade as a shy smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

“Is it good?”

“It's everything to me.”

“It's called ‘long for you’, by the way.”

“Long for you,” you repeat quietly. There has never been a prettier combination of words.

The title all but makes sense as you lay on the bed, your gaze fixed on the paintings hung on the wall, Hyunjin sketching quietly on his desk, the song resonating softly in the background. You've longed for many things in your life—the person you once were and the tender love you once craved—but amidst it all, nothing has weighed heavier on your heart than the longing for the man sitting just two meters away, almost in your loving grasp. Almost.

❁ ❁ ❁

It is an excruciating five days that Hyunjin spends apart from you, the both of you too caught up in your assignments to find a moment to properly speak. But you do not shy away from him when he greets you, and your grin is kind as it drapes across his being, and Hyunjin swears he has never seen a prettier sight than you smiling.

On the sixth night, Hyunjin completes the cover for the song— a figure wrapped around itself protectively, mirroring the way you hug yourself in your sleep. He hangs it on the wall, right next to your thank you card and the white bouquet he drew once again, wishing to properly immortalize its beautiful flowers, to purify that memory from the tumult that followed it.

On the sixth night, the house is quiet, the full moon high up in the sky, snowflakes falling softly to the ground. Hyunjin wonders if you too mimicked the snow’s descent— both of you falling apart with it.

But then, there’s a knock on his door.

His heart catches in his throat, his body freezing as if it forgot how to move. You are here.

“Come in,” he manages to say, his voice barely above a whisper. You push the door open, and Hyunjin's words wilt on his tongue as he sees what you're carrying—another bouquet, filled with white flowers, yet again.

“Hey,” you smile, standing by the door.

He remains silent, unsure of what to say, or how to speak. He longs for you when you are away, even more so when you’re before him.

“We shouldn't let these white flowers wither away too, right?” you smile slightly, placing the bouquet on the desk before walking to Hyunjin’s bedside. His voice falters, vocal cords refusing to move and overshadow your voice.

You sit beside him, gently pulling his hand so that you’d both lie on the pillows. Your hand doesn’t leave his own, instead, it moves to rest on his cheek, reminiscent of the many times he had cradled your face before. Inch by inch, you close the gap between you, nuzzle the tip of your nose against his own. “Hi, Hyune”, you say softly, and he swallows thickly, his voice coming out just as quietly.

“Hi, my Yn.”

“If we take care of the white flowers together do you think they’ll survive a bit longer?” you ask, your gaze never wavering from his, countless stars twinkling in the depths of your irises.

“I believe so,” he says tentatively, too aware of the warmth of your palm against his skin, of the sweet ache unfurling within his being.

“Mm, and even if they wilt we can always buy new ones. We can learn how to care for them better, with time,” you say, and he nods in agreement, laying his hand atop your own, tilting his head to bestow a chaste kiss on your palm.

“With time,” he echoes softly and you smile, vulnerable yet secure in his gray sheets, in his hold.

“Will you give me time too?” you ask, and Hyunjin reads in your eyes what you mean, understands in the shake of your voice the question you are too afraid to voice. Will he give you time to heal in order to love?

“As long as you need. I’m not going anywhere,” he reassures, pressing his forehead gently atop yours, and you both close your eyes, as a running warmth encloses you both, blooms a blush on both your cheeks.

His arms wrap around your back, drawing you close until your chests are pressed together, your head resting naturally in the curve of his neck. And it is long forgotten in your mind, all the nights you slept in this very bed alone. You feel safe, safe enough to long for love knowing that it patiently awaits you behind the door, once you find enough courage to turn the doorknob. You feel serene, as Hyunjin’s warm palms glide soothingly up and down your spine, as every muscle, every nerve, every atom in your being relaxes in his hold.

You are healing, slowly, with each fleeting second that passes in which Hyunjin’s heartbeat resounds within your chest, as its melody runs through your veins, melds with your own as if it was destined to be there all along. As you rest in Hyunjin, as you find a safe home within his soul to discard your worries at the doorstep and breathe.

“It did get better,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his shoulder blade. “Hm?” He leans back to look at you, and he’s so beautiful, so tender as he gazes at you, you can’t help but trace the contours of his face with your fingers, hoping to commemorate him with your eyes, with your touch.

“You promised me it’ll get better, and it did,” you smile, as your legs further intertwine with his, and his rose perfume becomes an indelible mark on your skin. “Too bad I can't hit your pretty face now,” you joke and he giggles, tipping his head back.

He's so beautiful, body and soul, and he longs for you, you alone.

“But I can still do this,” you murmur before finally pressing your lips against his like a boat finally reaching the shore after months of sailing. You both exhale, in yearning, in relief, as your mouths move together in a slow, languid dance, his hand finding the pulse on your neck, yours settling atop his jaw.

He would kiss you again, this intimately, in the coming months, when your heart expands enough to contain the love Hyunjin deserves. He would kiss you again, when your past comes to haunt you, and healing sounds like an elusive myth you’d never encounter in your life.

And he would kiss you again, over the kitchen table and under the fridge’s light, in between paintings and in supermarket aisles, while picking flowers and watching the first snow.

He would kiss you, this tenderly, in the next winter, and the ones after it, as if his longing for you never wanes. Till blow three disappears from your memory, till all you remember is the love, the true one, the kind one, the soft one Hyunjin alone could have brought you.

1K notes · View notes

banghyunchanji · 2 days

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Imaging Hyunjin showing you his fake tattoos to see if he should get a real one

H: Baby do you like it?

34 notes · View notes

jisungsdaydreamer · 8 months

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황현진 BOYFRIEND HYUNJIN WHO...

bf! hyunjin who likes to squish your face and take pictures of you, so he can blackmail you by threatening to send them to everyone unless you give him a kiss.

bf! hyunjin who spams your instagram comment section whenever you post. "woah do you have a bf?" "all mine 😘"

bf! hyunjin who likes to copy your outfits and act like they're all his ideas

bf! hyunjin who makes spotify playlists to romanticize every moment he spends with you, whether its a road trip compilation or a midnight baking mix

bf! hyunjin who likes to send you red roses when he's far from home and adds fancy little handwritten notes for you to find

bf! hyunjin who brags about you to his friends and feels more proud than jealous when other boys admire you.

bf! hyunjin who changes your lock screen to a selfie of him when you're not looking, so you'll have a constant reminder of him

bf! hyunjin who complains about you stealing his sweatshirts but secretly loves to see you in his clothing

bf! hyunjin who sends you real love letters written on paper, instead of just text messages or emails

bf! hyunjin who pulls you outside so you can slow dance in the pouring rain

bf! hyunjin who likes to sketch you in his notebook whenever you aren't looking; when you're cooking, sleeping, or tapping away on your computer

bf! hyunjin who lets you try out new hairstyles on him and loves to post selfies of him all dolled-up, even if he has sparkly pink bows in his hair

bf! hyunjin who buys your perfume and sprays it on his pillow when you're not with him and he misses you

bf! hyunjin who buys a ring only a few months into dating and hides it in his closet for when he thinks you're ready, because that's just how much he loves you.

3K notes · View notes

starlostseungmin · 6 days

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ice on whiskey ─── hwang hyunjin.

✰ pairing : assassin/hitman!hyunjin x fem!reader (she/her pronouns).

✰ genre : mafia au, nsfw+18, strangers to lovers, kinda slow burn

✰ warnings : lots of profanity, guns, violence, character deaths, kidnapping, rampage, reader almost drowned, felix got injured, mentions of drugs and other weapons, black market, crimes such as arson, murder and illegal businesses, blood, kissing, unprotected sex, oral sex (f.receiving), cunnilingus, breast play, hyunjin stroking himself (slightly mentioned)... MNDI semi-proofread. lmk if i missed one :'>

✰ word count : 25k (the longest so far)

✰ notes : wooyoung from ateez made a cameo in here lol and i’m not expecting this to get a lot of interactions but if you do read this, DO NOT FORGET TO REBLOG, COMMENT AND LEAVE TAGS after reading so i’ll know what you think of this long-ass fic. please separate fiction from reality. inspired by — freeze and give me your tmi by skz, too sweet by hozier, a few scenes from the k-drama queen of tears, vincenzo and 365 days trilogy

✰ tags : @notastraykid , @ameliesaysshoo , @l3visbby , @reignessance , @lix-ables , @skzfelixlove , @rachabreathing , @hyunverse , @minluvly , @starseungs , @sleepyleejii

masterlist | taglist

members’ characters and roles.

Hwang Hyunjin.

His name echoes as the sounds of crackling flame and a huge—thick black smoke escalate to the sky. He stood on the rooftop across from the building that was burning down as the fire trucks and cops aligned on the road beneath.

With a zippo in his hand—he closed and opened the lid, making a small flame that caused chaos. A click sound is heard after he closes the lid, shoving it inside his black coat’s pocket. A smirk is plastered on his face upon hearing his name being cursed by the family of a notoriously corrupt politician. He doesn’t need to take a glance at who it was—he already recognizes those names being listed on his murder list. Too bad, the body burned along with the building.

“Good job, Hyunjin,” He heard his boss say on his earpiece while removing the black gloves as he exited the building.

It is his job to murder whoever it is when his family gets provoked. A role that he is trained to do so.

“Get back home, we have another target,” Hyunjin stopped his car across the street as he took a few looks from the burning building. Some employees were weeping, firefighters were trying to calm the fire, the medical team was on search and the officers were investigating.

His name will never be revealed in the media. Who knows? He’s part of the Mafia.

“Fuckers,” He said under his breath driving away from the crime scene.

Arson may be one of his crimes, yet that’s not the only way to do his job. The next target is set on another date.

It was another usual night at the hotel when the sound of a gunshot was heard across the room as a body fell on the floor with a loud thud. Hyunjin stood there, a gun in his hand—eyes filled with no remorse and other emotion. He stared at the body while hiding his weapon in his belt underneath his black coat then a sigh of relaxation escaped his lips as his footsteps echoed on the marble floor—taking his way out leaving the man he just killed covered with blood.

He always didn’t understand why Chan sent him alone to negotiate when Seungmin should be the one doing this instead. But the latter is too busy to read and win cases. Hyunjin could’ve taken a signal from Seungmin after failing to negotiate with the bastard.

“Dispose of him.” He said to the two bodyguards waiting for him outside.

He continued to walk by the hall as he headed towards the elevator—pressing the ground floor’s button. The door closed slowly as he leaned back on the handle while fixing his suit through the reflection. It was a waste to wear such expensive clothing only to be assigned to kill someone. He would have screamed and cried if there was blood that managed to paint his suit, even though it wouldn’t be visible since he’s wearing all black from top to toe. Still, he treasures this kind of clothing as it is the representation of his identification.

He couldn’t say no to the boss.

Frustrated as he was, it was getting late. The elevator reached the ground floor and his phone kept ringing inside his chest pocket in his blazer. Another urgent call. He’s been getting one ever since his morning started, probably another errand to run for Chan. His footsteps echoed once again on the marble floor through the main hall of the hotel as he made his way toward the entrance where his car was waiting. It looked like nothing happened when he had the guts to act normal and conservative with his job but he got used to it.

A man bowed at him while giving him the keys as he took his phone out—answering that damn call.

“Did you kill him?” A voice from the other line asked.

“Yes,” Hyunjin answered as he opened the car’s door and sat comfortably. “I’m heading back now,”

“Okay, be quick, we have another one on the loose,” said the man on the phone. Hyunjin didn’t respond and went to drive away.

It is supposed to be a day off which he wanted to spend in his guesthouse near the beach on that one island. But damn Bang Chan and his list of names for murders, Hyunjin couldn’t even take the private jet to their island because for sure, he has a feeling that Chan has another mission for him or something urgent to make a meeting out of it.

He pushed the accelerator to full speed as he drove on the highway making it like his racing track. His engine roared, earning everyone’s attention. Some cursed the shit out of him, some were amazed by his violation of traffic laws, Hyunjin felt defeated—he didn’t even get to take a sip of whiskey while trying to negotiate with that man at the hotel. He was irritated, to begin with. Imagine your day off became a business day just because someone wants to get murdered.

It’s valid.

His hands tightened their grip on the wheel, maintaining the speed of his Mercedes Benz as it traveled through the road by the cliff where you could see the ocean and the city lights. The thought of taking some days off just to walk by the shore would be a luxury in his crucial job. He doesn’t even remember when was the last time he had a vacation and how exactly he landed on this kind of work when he was supposed to be a professional shooter as a sport. Hiring him was probably Chan’s best decision.

“You’re late,” He said.

“He had a lot to talk about,” Hyunjin reasoned, taking a seat beside Felix on the couch. All eight members of the family gathered in the main living room with Chan in the middle—slamming folders on the coffee table followed by Hyunjin’s gaze. “What are these?”

“Our next person,” Minho said, making Hyunjin sigh in response.

“Another murder for me?” He asked cocking his head.

“No,” Seungmin answered. “She’s a different case,”

“She?”

“Yes,” Felix interrupted as he took the main folder, making Hyunjin read the details. It was a profile. “Y/N Jung. She works as a publisher at Park’s Corporation. Her parents died when she was 5 and raised in an orphanage until the age of 18. Top of her class in high school and graduated Summa Cum Laude at ***** University. Mr. Park hired her a year ago and got promoted 6 months after,”

“Impressive but what’s with this person?” Hyunjin asked who seemed not interested if it was not someone for him to shoot.

“We found out that she’s the only daughter of the Godfather of the Jungs who died decades ago, they’re our family’s rival. She probably has no idea since she’s living a normal life but her relatives are after her since she’s the only heir. They wanted to kill her,” Seungmin said—now he is intrigued.

“What if the Jungs will find out that she’s with us?”

“It will provoke them of course. They still have a debt to pay after all,” Chan said, taking a sip of his whiskey. “They can’t have her that easily,”

“So,” Hyunjin paused, pointing at himself. “I’m going to kidnap her?” He was unsure about his assignment but it will probably go that way. “And where do we keep her? Here?”

“Your guesthouse,” Chan chuckled. “Take this mission as your days off from work, I will make sure no one finds you,”

“Hyung, give me a break. I’m supposed to leave for Colmar this weekend,” Hyunjin argued.

“You can’t,” Chan said firmly. “You know how your job is unpredictable so either you do this or leave?”

“Oh, I’m supposed to be your assassin now, a babysitter?” Hyunjin scoffed. But he knows he doesn’t have a choice. Again.

Hyunjin finds himself inside his room after the meeting in Chan’s heavenly huge mansion at the top of a mountain that was rendered for residency. He thought about the case thoroughly this time and this is the very first mission that Chan asked him not to kill anyone. It is unusual for him of course, as he is not used to the concept he’s getting into. A lost princess that everyone is looking for. She could be Rapunzel in some sort. But anyway, this could help him rest for a while. It would make his status crumble in this family if he declined the offer.

He ran his fingers through his black long locks as he sat on his bed, taking off his blazer and loosening his tie. The gun was already placed inside the drawer and took a glass of whiskey sitting on his side table. He stared at nowhere and drowned in his deep thoughts while his back rested comfortably on the headboard along with the pillow while reading your profile and other personal documents attached to the folder.

A lot will be planned for this exhibition.

“Fuck,” He hissed, slamming the papers on his side table.

Days passed and you arrived at the party’s venue five minutes before it started. Mr. Park already requested your presence the moment you walked in. It is supposed to be a night to enjoy but little didn’t you know that you’re being watched. Being not a fan of this kind of event, you didn’t want to be here in the first place. With tons of people and the intoxicating smell of alcohol and cigarettes, there is a reason why you didn’t party when you were still a student.

A heavy sigh escaped your lips—you admit that your life sucked by then, an orphan who managed to survive the challenges in life. You raised yourself well with the use of your late parents’ insurance money, which is quite A LOT. Yet you stopped using them when you got a job. Growing up in a tough environment, not that many friends, no social life, and a pile of money made you survive like a castaway on an unknown island. Yet you were thankful for being responsible and a few guidelines from the headmistress of the orphanage who is supposed to be a mother to you but she never did, maybe once she was.

These thoughts never leave your mind. It was an experience to grow up independent. It hurts you sometimes that you grew up having no parents to call on, no house to go home to during the holidays, just you in that lonely—godforsaken apartment. You got used to it anyway.

And who are you to judge the life that the heavens gave you?

You sat by the counter after a long conversation with Mr. Park regarding his business. It was tiring to speak corporate on your day off. You should be at home watching your favorite local drama and crying with a bucket of popcorn. But hell, one of the most important people in the company should be here. Another sigh was heard from you as the bartender placed a glass of champagne on the counter, indicating it was your drink.

“Thanks,” You smiled.

The loud music, the blinding lights, the smoke, and the smell of cigarettes being mixed with the air-conditioner are choking you. It was bad—you could’ve coughed so loud until your throat dried. Champagne won’t be a lot of help either.

Hyunjin was there.

White v-neck long-sleeved polo, black blazer, black slacks, and black shoes. A handsome tall man, who smells expensive, who looks expensive, and a bit dramatic at times but the people who see him can’t deny he is so damn attractive with that suit with a few strands of wet hair styled on his face for elegance.

He walked slowly after seeing you settled by the counter wearing that black long dress with see-through sleeves. You were beautiful.

Felix followed him as Han and Changbin were on the lookout—watching some members of the Jungs trying to locate you in the venue. Hyunjin ordered a drink as he sat on the empty high chair beside you which you had to raise your glass as a form of greeting him. He just gave you a small smile and moved his chair to watch the crowd dancing instead of the bunch of drinks on display.

It’s safe to say that he caught your attention. Who wouldn’t when he’s tall, short wolf cut, a black suit with a white top within, a glass of whiskey in one hand—a face of a model, siren eyes, a great physique… he’s totally your type. It would give you a reason to stay in the party for a while. You hang your head low on the counter as Hyunjin notices you getting consumed by the alcohol while sipping on his whiskey.

“You shouldn’t drink that much,” You heard him say. Damn, he’s concerned, that thought made you blush.

“I know,” You paused between the hic. “It’s just, it’s my first time having to enjoy a drink outside,” You smiled. “I’m not a party girl, you see. I’m a home buddy,” But Hyunjin just smirked.

You didn’t leave the counter an hour later and kept on drinking the same drink. Mind you there is only 12% of alcohol in a bottle of champagne but your tolerance doesn’t give a fuck. You don’t usually get drunk easily but this time is different. That’s what they say, drink your problems away. It is not in your life mottos. A drink wouldn’t make you decide to die.

The person beside you, will. Not the one you greeted with the glass. He’s too handsome.

“Incoming to Ms. Jung’s left side, Hyunjin,” Said Han from the earpiece.

Hyunjin cleared his throat as he moved—facing the bar while turning his glass from side to side.

Being independent meant you could sense danger in one glance but you were too dizzy to identify the man beside you. Unbeknownst to your actions, your hand landed on the man who smiled at you earlier and looked at him. He was confused as to why but it is a plus that you trust him, which you shouldn’t. Maybe because he’s not provoking you or anything. You tried so hard to stay quiet and not embarrass yourself in front of your party crush.

Hyunjin was alerted as he craned his neck a bit to observe.

“Such a beautiful face,” You heard the other man from your left while tightening the grip of your hand on Hyunjin’s. The unknown man was about to caress your cheek when Hyunjin suddenly let go of the grip—spinning your chair to face him, having his hand on your waist, pulling you closer to him as he planted a kiss on your lips. It was so sudden and unexpected yet it was good. Felix was surprised as he witnessed it behind Hyunjin.

“Dude, what the fuck?” He exclaimed.

The kiss lasted longer. His delicate plump lips were soft as it tasted like he just had a glass of whiskey now being mixed with champagne you just had. His kiss was so gentle to the point that it was so sweetーyour knees felt weak and blood rushed through your veins. Unbeknownst to the events, he pulled his gun out from his belt, aiming at the man’s forehead. His eyes were looking at him as he was kissing you.

The man raised his hands in surrender and yet he had this dirty smirk plastered on his face. Han and Changbin were already standing on both sides, hooking their arms around the person of interest. You were so captivated by his kiss that it felt like having a live makeout session in front of the barista and Felix but Hyunjin had to stop before it got deep.

“Fuck,” The man grunts.

“Don’t turn around,” Hyunjin whispered to your ear as you could feel your heart going insane and your mind blank. Did he just kiss you? Yes, what the fuck. His left arm was still around your waistーpulling you closer as if he was hugging you. But why is it that he won’t allow you to turn around when you’re a blushing mess and the urge to scream in happiness is strong?

“You’re not going to kill him, are you?” The man with blonde hair spoke behind him. What?

“Are you working for the Jungs?” Hyunjin asked. You didn’t understand what these are all about and tried to get away but Hyunjin’s too strong to let you go. “Babe, don’t move,” He whispered again. I am going to ascend to heaven if he’s going to be like that for a while.

“You could say that,” The man behind you answered.

“You better pay your debt to the Wolves,” Hyunjin answered. “I’ll make sure you will never get your hands on Y/n,”

How the fuck did he know my name?

“You will never know what will happen next if you kill me, Hyunjin,” The man stated. “They will find the heiress no matter what,” And with that, Hyunjin pulled the trigger, and a loud gunshot was heard through the whole room. The body collapsed as everyone panicked while making their way out of the venue leaving you, Hyunjin, his brothers, and a group of men who were probably the dead man’s accomplices. You were also surprised, flinching at your spotーconfused about what was happening.

“Get her out of here,” Said Han. “Now.” He added before he ran upstairs to catch the assigned person to take you to the Jungs along with Changbin. Hyunjin nudged Felix before turning back to you.

“What’s happening?” You spoke in panic but at the same time, you couldn’t move.

“Look, Miss, we have to go.” He said. Little didn’t you know that the crush you’re supposed to have made your night turn unexpectedly?

“What? You’re a stranger, I can’t trust you!” You argued but Hyunjin didn’t have enough patience to talk back right now and just went to pick you up like a damsel in distress.

“Let’s go, Felix!” You heard him say as he walked out of the venue. Han and Changbin decided to stay back for a while unless they captured the spies who were watching you the whole time when you were with Mr. Park and Hyunjin. Everyone was panicking and managed to get out, even your boss who was assisted by his guards.

“Hey! Put me down!” You exclaimed trying to get down but Hyunjin didn’t even bother to listen and you were way too drunk to stand on your own. “We kissed but I don’t even know your name!”

“It’s fucking Hwang Hyunjin,” He said, making you sit on the passenger’s seat as Felix went to his car parked beside Hyunjin’s.

“Okay, Mr. Fucking Hwang Hyunjin, take me home,” You said as you heard his engine roar.

“I don’t even know where you live but you’re coming home with me,” He answered as he stepped on the gas making the car accelerate with Felix, tailing him.

“Is this kidnapping? I will sue you!” You exclaimed but Hyunjin just tried to put up with your shit. “God, I’m fucking stupid! First, I got drunk from that stupid champagne! Second, I kissed a stranger and got traumatized and third I’m letting this motherfucker take me somewhere,” You cried while holding on to your seatbelt. “I don’t even know who Fucking Hwang Hyunjin is, the fuck?!”

“Will you shut up?” Hyunjin hissed, making you whimper instead.

I’m going to die, no, I can’t die yet. I won’t allow them to kill me, I still have strays to feed, I want to get married and have kids, and I still need to meet the love of my life and grow old with them. Fuck, I’m going to die. I am being kidnapped and Mr. Fucking Hwang Hyunjin is absolutely unknown in my entire life. I am so dumb, so stupid letting my first kiss taken— You thought when you heard someone was calling.

“Hyunjin, we’re being followed,” Felix said through the call as soon as Hyunjin accepted it and took a glance at his side mirror.

“Fuck,” Hyunjin said in frustration.

“I’ll stall them, get on the freeway,” Felix said.

“No, fuck! They know that Y/n’s here,” Hyunjin answered.

“What are we going to do?” Felix asked, feeling anxious from the other line.

“Go back and get Changbin and Han,” Hyunjin said as you were listening to their conversation. The car ride is making you sicker and wants to puke, but Hyunjin’s car seems so expensive that you’re just trying to hold it in and yet it seems impossible. This is an unexpected turn of a Saturday night.

“What about you?”

“I’ll lead them astray, then,” Hyunjin said.

“Fuck, alone?” Felix reacted.

“Just go, Felix!” Felix sighed heavily as he made a sudden U-turn making the following car halt in response. You stopped crying upon listening to their conversation and when Felix left, you could see how angry Hyunjin was. “You better hold on tight,” You heard him say when you are already holding on for your dear life. Forget about the damn kiss, this man is crazy!

He’s already violating traffic laws now with his friend and fuck, what’s the worse that could happen? Getting arrested or killed after being kidnapped? And the car following us is not even the cops. Forget about the damn kiss, this man is crazy!

“What’s happening?” You asked for the second time, tightening your grip on the seatbelt.

“You’ll find out later,” He said as he made the car engine roar—speeding through an unknown road.

You could feel how unusual the speed of his car was, it was faster than a few minutes ago. Vomiting would be the worst that could happen inside right now. Not in this expensive car, not in this expensive black dress that you bought from your favorite brand, not with this hair and makeup you’ve spent hours to make yourself presentable after 5 days of being stressed.

“Can I at least know where you’re taking me?” You asked, trying not to make puking sounds. “I think I’m getting sicker at this speed,”

“Don’t you dare vomit in my car!” He exclaimed, trying to focus on the road and at the same time, glancing at his side mirror. The car is still there and Felix is nowhere to be found now. Hyunjin kept on taking turns and you’re getting sicker. In a few seconds, you won’t be able to hold it in.

“Can you slow down a bit?” You begged but there’s no way Hyunjin is doing that.

“Do you want to live or not?” Hyunjin hissed, hands tightening their grip on the wheel even more.

“I want to if you won’t kill us,” You said, almost crying again.

“I’m a skilled driver,” He argued.

“I’m not doubting you,” You answered, shaking in fear and sickness. “But I would like to apologize in advance,”

“What? Fuck—no!” Hyunjin exclaimed as he was too late. You already vomited on his mat— coughing after feeling like you were being choked. “Motherfucker! I told you not to let it out!”

“But I suddenly feel better! Don’t worry, I’ll wash your car,” You said as you leaned back on the passenger’s seat leaving Hyunjin more frustrated.

“Fuck,” He sighed as he continued driving at the same speed when suddenly a truck was heading through the go signal from the right side at full speed as well. It gave Hyunjin an idea that he made the clutch go forward as the engine roared even more, wanting to go through the stop signal.

“Wait!” You exclaimed, followed by intense screaming while covering your face with your hands as Hyunjin stayed quiet, brows knitted together, hands tightened their grip on the wheel even more—speeding through the highway and the car that was following you, crashed on the truck making a loud impact as the cars lined up got delayed to go through the traffic. Your heart was beating faster—panting, as you sweat from all the vomiting and a reckless driver beside you. Thanks to them, you are probably getting sober from the series of events. “What the fuck was that?”

“I told you I’m a skilled driver. But you have to clean my car tomorrow morning,” He said, sighing in relief as he glanced at his rearview mirror, watching the car burn as it stood still, glass shattered and crushed.

“So I’m not going home, then?” You asked, watching him with those terrified eyes.

“Do you think after what just happened I’ll let you go home? You vomited in my car, my brothers are out there trying to capture those who wanted to kill you, and I just saved your life from those bastards and that fucker at the party,” Hyunjin said, getting back on the car’s usual speed while loosening his tight grip.

“Why do they want to kill me? And how did you know me?” You asked, being confused, to begin with in addition to fear and doubt.

“Long story short, I was tasked to take you in because of your family affairs.” He answered.

“Family affairs? I’m an orphan! Nobody came for me when I was at the orphanage!” Your exclaimed, brows knitted together.

“Y/n Jung, a publisher at Park’s Corporation, the daughter of Mr. F/n Jung and Ms. M/n Kim, the Godfather. Orphaned at the age of 5, was sent to ***** University and graduated Summa Cum Laude. You have lived alone since you were 18,” He said, making your eyes widen in shock.

“Stalker much! How did you know?” You shouted, attempting to kick him. “And Godfather? What the fuck is that?”

“You are the only heir of the highest mafia leader who died years ago. Your relatives are coming to kill you so they can get your parents’ properties in all of Korea. That explains why they left you a great sum of money,” Hyunjin explained, which became too much for your sober brain to catch up and take in.

“So you’re saying that I’m part of this gangster shit?” You laughed. “Dude, I barely even know my parents and my family background, and then someone like you just appeared out of nowhere, explaining this crazy stuff,” You answered, resting on the passenger’s seat like a stubborn little child. “I want to go home,”

“You owe me and my car. My boss will kill me if I let you go,” Hyunjin argued but only sighed in response, just letting an unusual stranger earn your slight bit of trust.

He knows you have so many questions at the moment and he’s not sure he can answer everything. That is why he is taking you to Chan’s enormous mansion at the mountaintop. The streetlights became rare the moment you entered the road by the cliff, nervous about what was going to happen shortly. It was dark—you didn’t even know what to feel. Being terrified is an understatement, you have no idea what you are going into.

Hyunjin became quiet as soon as you stopped talking yet the disgusting smell aroused his irritation. He tried not to get upset with it since you were already on the premises.

“Clean yourself before we see Chan,” You heard him say as you gave him a nod. Hyunjin parked his car and walked around it to open the door for you.

“Thanks,” You said as you followed him inside.

The stories you’ve read about these kinds of families weren’t exaggerating when writers say that Mafias are filthy rich with huge mansions, expensive cars and furniture, business booming here and there, and money coming and going. Being a bookworm and a movie lover helped. Your mouth gaped at the sight of the interior. It’s probably more expensive than you. But learning the fact that you’re an heiress made a small stretch on your net worth. Of course, if it’s not a prank or whatever.

Your eyes wandered around the main living room through the hall and the stairs as Hyunjin led you inside his room. Even his room is bigger than your apartment.

“Your clothes are placed on my bed, the bathroom’s on your left. I’ll be outside,” He said as you gave him a nod but before you could take a step away from him, you felt a hand wrapped around your wrist—pulling you closer. “Don’t even bother trying to escape,”

“Even if I did, you’ll capture me eventually,” You said, rolling your eyes—unhanding yourself away by harshly removing your wrist from his large hand.

“If you don’t want to be killed of course,” He smirked as he went out of the room. A heavy sigh escaped your lips as your eyes landed on the pajamas he prepared for you.

“Is she here?” Seungmin asked the moment he saw Hyunjin standing outside his room.

“Inside,” Hyunjin answered, motioning his head to the door.

“Good,” Seungmin sighed in relief. “Felix said they’re on their way. They got the accomplices. Chan said they will be taken to the island tonight and you killed someone out there,”

“I didn’t,” Hyunjin breathed. “The rest of them were following us, I have to make sure Y/n’s safe,”

“I know,” Seungmin said. “You did well,”

Thankfully, Hyunjin’s door wasn’t soundproof. You heard their conversation when you were about to knock. The sage green pajamas were comfy as they were made of silk, your hair was wet after taking a shower and the other products you used were immaculate. They must’ve prepared for your arrival that he already has those products aligned in his bathroom.

You leaned closer to the door and knocked a few times just to make Hyunjin unlock it, making Seungmin intrigued to see you too.

It took a while as you cleaned everything, making yourself sober up. This was a lesson not to drink a lot—you don’t even like drinking. You need to be presentable at least, but the aftertaste of champagne didn’t feel good staying inside your mouth. Yet this wasn’t that important to you right now as you have questions to ask and answers to collect.

“Hi,” Seungmin beamed. “I’m Seungmin, the family lawyer, nice to meet you Y/n,” He added, reaching out his hand for a handshake. You hesitated at first, but it seems like he’s a bit friendly.

“Hi,” You said, giving him a quick smile and shaking his hand. He looks too cute to be part of this gangster family but at the same time, extremely attractive.

“Let’s go see Chan now,” Hyunjin said as he walked away first with Seungmin gesturing his hand to follow the former as he stayed behind you.

You have no idea who Chan is, and you get even more nervous that you are a few steps into meeting him. The information about your parents became unexpected because no one knew and no one even came to the orphanage to tell you anything. Not even your relatives who unfortunately don’t care about you and now want you dead. The idea led you to come with them to earn information and flee when you get the chance. Thoughts of escaping would be impossible at this point since you are being surrounded and watched. There are a lot of surveillance cameras from the gate to the mansion. It’s hard to find a blind spot.

Hyunjin and Seungmin’s footsteps echoed through the hall while yours remained quiet because of the fluffy Cinnamon Roll slippers Hyunjin gave. It was almost cute but you remembered he kissed you without permission, hypothetically let the driver of that car who followed you, get into a terrible accident and shoot a man in the same night. May they rest in peace, in hell, if they deserve it.

Your lips formed into a thin line as you walked downstairs, earning the attention of six other men—probably living in this house—especially that big, scary-looking man, sitting in the middle. You recognized Felix, and the two who were standing behind the couch he was sitting at were probably Han and Changbin. They’ve got cuts and bruises from all the trouble earlier. Damn. And the rest, you don’t know.

Everyone stood up and faced you the moment you got down, Seungmin gestured to you to sit down on a single couch to begin the meeting but you couldn’t even move. You were intimidated and yet they bowed to show respect.

What the fuck is happening?

“Please don’t be scared, take a seat,” The man in the middle spoke. You were hesitating at first but eventually gave in. It’s too dangerous to provoke someone this scary. “I know you probably have a lot of questions about all of this, but before anything else, I would like to introduce this family. I’m Bang Chan, the boss. You just met Seungmin, our lawyer, Felix is our Intel, Han and Changbin are our Capos,” Chan said, then he immediately gestured to the next person. “Jeongin, my apprentice, Minho the consigliere and Hyunjin, our assassin,”

“A-assassin?” You spoke.

You were stunned by how everyone has a role in this family and yet remained confused. Eight men with acceptable roles in the family and the one who took you away is apparently an assassin. He could’ve killed you the first time. You were deceived by that handsome face of his but who knows what job he has? A fucking assassin. It keeps repeating in your head.

“Uhm, not so nice to meet you,” You said, you mean it anyway. “I think I don’t need to say something about myself,” You added, taking a deep breath to avoid being nervous and scared. Everything feels off in the first place too.

“You don’t need to. We know who you are,” Chan said as you sighed heavily, biting your lower lip.

“Okay, why am I here?” You asked. “Hyunjin mentioned something about my late parents. Did you do a background check on me?”

“Yes, it is part of our job,” Chan answered, gesturing to Seungmin to hand you a file. “He may have mentioned you being the sole heir of the Godfather, Mr. F/n Jung,”

“That’s fucking absurd,” You retorted.

“It’s the truth,” Chan said firmly. “Your relatives have been tracking you down for years, that explains what happened and why you’re brought here. All information about you and your late parents is in there,” He added as Seungmin offered you a thick folder. Licking your lips—your hands reached for the folder and flipped a few pages.

The first one you saw was your profile, next to that were papers from the orphanage—articles about the car crash and the insurance money, your university application, land and property ownerships being signed by your parents, contracts, and other confidential documents. It took you a while to skim and scan everything. It felt surreal as if your life was written in a book—the missing heiress of a freaking wealthy family of gangsters. And now, some unknown relatives are coming after you.

“I really don’t know anything, and so what if they want to own my parents’ property, I don’t care at all,” You said, firmly.

“That is not what we do, Y/n,” Chan retorted. “Loyalty is important to our family and you have a rank in the Jungs so either they will let you live to rule for them or kill you to take everything you’re supposed to own. Your parents built that empire so you could have a normal and comfortable life but they ended up being killed in the crash many years ago. It’s a miracle that you’re even alive,”

Then it made you remember—the crash. Suddenly, a child’s voice echoed through your memory as the sounds of ambulances were all over the place. The front side of the car was crushed as you sat there crying with your head bleeding from the impact. You were taken to the hospital and later found out that your parents died before they could get them out of the car. A social worker and a lawyer came by to assess your papers and live in an orphanage. It was discussed that you can get the insurance money after you turn 18. It was enough to sustain you and yet, everything still felt bitter. Your life was never the same after that. Maybe your life got a little bit better after you moved out and lived on your own. Yet it became lonely and sad. Having a job doesn’t fix a broken heart either. Everything messes with your head.

No one from your family visited you because of the hatred. The headmistress didn’t even help you that much and the other kids were getting foster parents except you. It was tragic. You didn’t know what was wrong and longed to have a family too. Maybe Chan is right about one thing, you’re lucky to be alive but instead of living happily out of it—the sunshine turned into rain and the light switched off to dark. It was sad knowing no one came to your graduation or any parent-teacher meetings, no one would sign school documents other than your landlord. It was a fucked up life for you to thrive on.

Tears suddenly streamed down your cheeks while looking at Chan. Felix caught it immediately and passed the box of tissues. You were surprised by it that you didn’t hesitate to respond to his actions. Maybe these people are not bad after all or they’re just being polite. You wiped your tears after taking a few sheets and massaging your temples. Being sober doesn’t help to indulge such information but you are getting there. You don’t need to drink again in the future.

“You think it’s a good miracle, huh? Do you think it’s good to be alive? After everything I’ve been through?!” You exclaimed standing up from your seat but they didn’t flinch a bit, except Felix.

“This is not the place for you to be emotional,” That was a damn red flag to invalidate you.

“Y/n, calm down, take a seat,” Felix said in his most gentle voice, handing you a glass of water. “Don’t worry, it’s pure, not poisoned,” He smiled like an angel in disguise. You sit down as you take the glass and drink it, still giving that glare to Chan who has no remorse plastered on his face.

“You and Hyunjin will go to his guest house first thing in the morning. No one will be able to find you there,” Chan said.

“What?” You asked, shocked by what Chan just answered.

“We have to stay here because of the Jungs, but we’ll accompany you to the island tomorrow. Hyunjin needs his day off too,” Seungmin said.

“Yeah, he will take care of you, but don’t worry, we will make sure no one finds you so call us when you need us,” Felix interrupted.

“Why are you doing this?” You asked.

“They owe us big time, your family is the reason why our parents died. All of us,” Chan answered, which made you caught off guard. So you’re not alone after all. “My parents were second to yours, Ms. Jung. They’re the co-founder of this empire but after being betrayed and murdered along with the entire family, the kids were forced to grow up in a secluded mansion, trained and studied—chosen to continue their legacy.” He added as he stood up from his seat and walked slowly around you.

“It was a hard life,” Felix butted in.

“Hyunjin grew up to be a shooter so I hired him as my assassin. Seungmin studied law, and he became the family’s lawyer. Minho is my advisor, Han and Changbin were trained to fight, Felix became our intelligence because of his skills and Jeongin is still learning from me. I was forced to lead an empire, Y/n, the Jungs are the rats. You’re lucky you didn’t grow up in this environment or you are already long gone,” He said as you stayed quiet. “Your family has a debt to pay and a relative to kill. It’s either you want to go out there and be killed or stay here until we settle everything with them. Your choice,”

“I don’t have a family,” You answered as you balled your fists in anger.

“We know,”

“How did you find me?” You asked.

“Felix,” Chan answered. “We have connections so when we knew you were alive, I sent Felix to spy on you,”

“Stalking is my job but legally,” Felix said with a sheepish smile plastered on his face making you sigh in response.

“I guess I have nothing to tell you about myself,” You said. “But if you’re going to keep me locked up, what about my job? My apartment? My laptop? The stray cats and dogs I’m feeding?”

“The strays were already taken to a shelter. Your apartment won’t be touched but we had to get a few things for you to use and of course, your laptop,” Seungmin answered. “We have someone to replace you for the meantime in your job. But don’t worry, Mr. Park works for Chan Hyung yet he cannot let you work for your privacy,”

“Unbelievable,” You sighed. “You mentioned that I’m supposed to inherit everything they own as what these documents have stated and yet no one told me. I don’t know anything about bullshit and my so-called relatives are after me to kill me so they can name these properties and businesses under themselves. Why do they need to dispose of me when I don’t know anything?” You asked.

“The last page is the will of your parents,” Seungmin answered. “It got notarized by my dad. Unfortunately, he passed not long ago after your parents did. The Jungs have copies of the will so to be able to take the properties, they will kill you first since you’re the first in line, second is your uncle, their temporary boss. As long as you’re alive, they won’t be able to touch it,”

“What?” You reacted. This is way too much information to take. Your brain is foggy from all of that drink and you don’t know if taking a shower would make you feel a bit sane.

“These documents belong to you now,” Seungmin said. “So please understand that we can’t let you go out there,”

“Why are you helping me?” You asked—head hang low.

“We know it’s shocking to hear all of this in one night, but you are a crucial target,” Minho said. “We used to live in harmony once,” You nodded in response.

“So your parents used to work for them?” You asked, looking at them.

“To the Godfather,” Minho nodded.

“Fuck,” You hissed washing your face with your hands with the folder laying on your lap.

“It’s already getting late, we will continue this conversation tomorrow,” Chan said out of nowhere, dismissing everyone as they left for their rooms while you remained in the living room with Hyunjin taking a seat on your right—sipping on his glass of whiskey.

“You’re not sleeping yet?” He asked.

“How could I?” You asked back. “I’m not sure if this is a good idea,”

“I didn’t say yes to this plan either. But it’s my job and the moment I took you out of that party, you became my responsibility. Call me your babysitter,” He smirked while drinking.

“Shut up,” You said, rolling your eyes.

“Go sleep in my room, you had a long night,” He said, standing up from the couch as he shoved his hands inside his slacks’ pockets.

“What about you?” You asked.

“I’ll sleep with Seungmin,” He said casually. “Let’s go,”

You couldn’t sleep a wink that night even though you had to leave first thing in the morning. It felt weird sleeping in a house full of men and laying on a king-sized bed owned by someone you just met. You admit he is handsome and all got mad driving skills and loves whiskey, which makes your heart leap. Not to mention the kiss. What a bastard. He’s not as what you thought he would be, although you are so guilty of vomiting in his car he has the very right to be upset. But the thing is, you’re being held hostage. You also have the very right to be mad. Yet at the same time, their reasons are valid to keep you here. It explains why Han and Changbin got beaten up when Felix arrived way back at the party.

The bed is comfy after all and you have a lot of information to process at once. It’s unbelievable to have this kind of life being kept a secret from you for years. Damn family affairs.

It was already morning when you were welcomed by a loud knock outside Hyunjin’s room. It made you groan in frustration as that was the reason why you woke up. You had to make your way towards the door and open it while half-asleep. Hyunjin’s face was the one that welcomed you outside causing you to be wide awake. You admit you fell in love at first last night but it didn’t last long when you knew he was taking you with him somewhere you didn’t know. And now, you’re here inside their mansion, inside his room and he is standing three feet in front of you between the door of his bedroom.

“Good morning?” You said.

“Get dressed and have breakfast downstairs, we’re leaving in 2 hours,” He said, handing you a set of clothes and a pair of shoes to wear before he left.

“Fuck,” You said under your breath and hurried to do your new routine. You packed your backpack shoving your laptop, the folder, and some of the necessities the guys had prepared for you from last night. Obviously from your apartment, how did they manage to have these?

Hyunjin went downstairs and headed to the dining room where everyone settled in. You were left out for a bit and rushed down almost an hour after Hyunjin came by. Everyone looked at you wearing that white top with a gray cardigan and white slacks. They wouldn’t deny the fact that you’re pretty and it’s their first time having a woman in the house. Chan cleared his throat making Hyunjin snap out of his thoughts after staring at you. His thoughts remained unknown but he was captured by your beauty although you are stupid. Being drunk Y/n, explained it.

“Take a seat, my dear,” You heard Chan say. Felix saw how amused Hyunjin was as he smirked, teasing the older one the moment you sat down on the empty seat beside him. “Eat,”

“You sound like an old man, Hyung,” Seungmin butted in making everyone snicker.

“Shut up Seungmin,” Chan retorted.

“Thanks,” That’s all you could say in between the conversation. What an awkward situation to be dining with them.

“Did you sleep well?” Seungmin asked, turning to you who was just sitting on the other side.

“Not really,” You answered, taking a bite of your sandwich.

“That’s normal,” He answered. “I hope you’ll get used to us being around, we can’t take being separated unless there’s an important matter,”

“Really?” You asked.

“Yeah, we grew up together under one roof, we’re not blood-related but we treat each other like brothers, family to specific,” You heard Han say.

“Good for you guys,” You said. “I was alone,”

“You could be family—aww!” Felix exclaimed when Hyunjin smacked him.

“Y/n’s not our family,” Hyunjin said grimly.

That made you look down and eat in silence while the rest did the same. Chan obviously didn’t care, Minho couldn’t even look at you, Changbin and Jeongin didn’t bother talking to you, Hyunjin seemed cold, and only Seungmin, Felix, and Han were a bit warm. You couldn’t blame them for feeling that way but you’re innocent with all these family dramas going around. You tried to be friendly despite the situation, but they couldn’t trust you and the same goes for how you felt.

Why on earth did the heavens give you this life?

You left the mansion an hour after having breakfast as Hyunjin was driving you somewhere. It was a different car from last night. The boys were having a convoy with 4 cars, 2 in each and 3 in the last car. You settled beside Hyunjin a few minutes ago with your things at the back of his new car. He might’ve disposed of the one he used after the little incident happened.

“Where’s your car?” You asked.

“I left it,” He said. “The caretaker will clean it for me,”

“I thought I was supposed to clean it?” You asked again.

“We don’t have time,” He said in his monotonous voice.

“I’m sorry,” You said. “Can I do something to make it up to you, at least?”

“Nothing,” He said, making you sigh.

“Okay, why did you kiss me last night?” You asked. Oh, so you’re finally making a conversation right now? No one spoke about it, not even Felix who looked disgusted when he saw it. Maybe because they were too occupied last night—it slipped away from their minds. Hyunjin also got upset about how things turned out as if he didn’t call you some pet name.

“Do you want to see that man being shot in front of you?” He asked. Well, he has a point. “And don’t act like you didn’t like it, you kissed me back,”

“Because I thought I was finally getting a life,” You argued.

“I’m not sorry about it,” He smirked. Motherfucker.

Your eyes met the scenery outside as you were drowning in your sea of thoughts. The so-called abduction, the intoxicating kiss, relocating you to an island? What kind of fate is this? But He’s right, you liked that kiss. It made your heart go insane, he kissed you like a lover who finally found the love of his life when it was supposed to be nothing but a kiss between fucking strangers and it’s making you crazy. A coincidence even. At first, it’s just crushing on a stranger who turns out to be an assassin. Stupid Y/n.

Hyunjin continued to drive but took a few glances at your gloomy face, being reflected by the car’s window.

“My guesthouse is on an island that Chan owns,” He said, earning back your attention. “One can get in or out by plane or yacht, we need to travel there by air,”

“Chan must be rich huh,”

“He’s the pillar of this empire after everyone got murdered. All the properties are named after him,”

“Ah,” You nodded.

“The island is secluded so no one except us can enter. The roads are limited so it’s hard to do car racing,” He added as you continued to nod.

“You guys decide what my fate will be,” You said. “I have no family to worry about me so I can be dragged around, besides, you got my replacement at work,”

“Are you that sad?” Hyunjin asked.

“Of course, who wouldn’t? Imagine you’re a little kid who grew up alone with no one to look up to. Then one day she lived alone to thrive for herself, got a job years later, and got abducted, witnessed a murder, and a stranger stealing a kiss all in one night for the first time she ever decided to go to a party,” You huffed. “At least you have your brothers. I don’t have one with me,”

Hyunjin shut his mouth after that.

“Look, this isn’t my plan on spending my days off. I’m supposed to be in Colmar,” he said.

“Well, I’m sorry to ruin your vacation. As if I expected to be with you in the first place when I should be sleeping in my apartment the whole day because I have work tomorrow,” You argued.

Hyunjin gave up.

After a while, everyone parked their cars by the airport as you followed Hyunjin to the private plane that was prepared for the departure. Your hair danced with the wind along with the excess of your clothes. The others followed and you’re being stuck with them again. It was awkward that you decided to sit at the back as they continued their conversation. Felix saw you alone while Hyunjin slept on the other row. A smile formed on his face and decided to take the seat beside you, hoping he’d feel welcomed.

You were just waiting to depart as your eyes fixated through the window and didn’t even notice that Felix was already there. He didn’t bother to take your attention in the meantime and just sat quietly—taking a magazine and started to read while you looked outside, not until the flight attendant announced the take-off.

“Hi,” You greeted.

“Hi! I hope you don’t mind me sitting here,” He said.

“Not at all,” You smiled. “You’re probably the only one who wants to be my friend,”

“Force of habit, since I tend to gather information about you,” He answered while fidgeting his fingers. “We’re about to take off and it will take an hour to arrive so get some rest—poke me when you need anything!”

“I will,” You chuckled. He’s cute. Not long after, the private jet took off and you stared again through the window. “How long do we have to stay on the island?” You asked, not taking your eyes away from the scenery outside.

“It would depend on how long it would take for the Jungs to stop looking for you,�� He answered. “All of us won’t be consistent on staying there, it’s just that Hyunjin is the best one who can protect you since he grew up being a shooter. It’s easy for him to kill someone. I mean, we all do, but he’s the best one,” He added as you finally looked at him.

“That’s cool. I thought he’s just another reckless driver racing on the road,” You answered which made Felix chuckle.

“I mean he’s a skilled driver,” Felix said, making a pause between your conversation. “The thing is, our job starting from now on is to go in and out of the island, except for Hyunjin, of course. He’ll stay with you. It’s his guesthouse anyway, and the rest of us will take off the Jungs,” He explained.

“Isn’t it dangerous though? You’re risking your life for a mere stranger like me,” You said.

“Like what Chan Hyung said, they owe us and we’re not doing this solely because of you,” Felix answered. “And once they find out that you’re with us, which is what they already know because of last night—I’m afraid that you’re not the only one on the murder list,”

“That means…”

“Me, Hyunjin, Seungmin, Han, Changbin hyung, Jeongin, Minho hyung and most especially, Chan hyung,” Felix said. “If he dies, what will happen to us? To you? And with everything that our parents have left us,” That statement made Felix look gloomy as if the sunshine hid behind the clouds to provide rain and you’re standing somewhere without a roof—letting the rainwater shower you.

“God, I’m so sorry,” You sighed trying to hold back your tears as you leaned on your seat. It makes you feel a sense of guilt even though everything is still new.

“It’s not your fault. What are you apologizing for?” Hyunjin said still not moving from his position—arms crossed on his chest, legs gapped—his head rested on his neck pillow with sunglasses on his eyes.

“Don’t mind him,” Felix excused. “He even kissed you without permission so I’m sorry about that,” He added when you just gave him a sorry smile.

“I’m not sorry about that too!” Hyunjin butted in making Felix sigh before turning in his direction.

“You’re being a jerk,” Felix scolded him as Hyunjin rolled his eyes inside those expensive glasses.

It was a new sight the moment you stepped out of the private area and headed toward the mini-airport, specifically built for this island. The family is filthy rich that you cannot even comprehend how it works. From afar, they look like a normal bunch of businessmen working together to provide a better economy for people to work but once you enter the circle and observe them, they only serve one master—the boss who is the brain of everything. They fight for the good although they use violence and crimes just to have a peaceful atmosphere. Being involved with them came to be unexpected. From a normal, innocent human being to a wanted daughter of a late criminal lord.

It is the season of summer and everything happens in the blink of an eye. The night changed too fast—not even 24 hours. That’s what everyone says, you don’t know what is going to happen in the future. All eyes darted on you and they’re all armed. Apart from the brothers, there were also guards walking along as you headed to cars prepared to head to Hyunjin’s guesthouse. It was a big island when you got an aerial view as it was separated from the outside world. You were assisted when you sat beside Hyunjin as he drove away. The island is obviously surrounded by water which would be harder to escape. They don’t need surveillance cameras anymore when you’re on the loose just to find you. No boats, and planes to be used—unless it’s urgent.

Being surrounded by water is a genius idea since it is already summer. You have the freedom to explore around and maybe read by the shore if the guesthouse wouldn’t be too far from the sea. Another convoy was set to travel heading on the limited road Hyunjin was talking about. You didn’t even expect that the guesthouse would be enormous just like Chan’s mansion on the mountaintop.

It was located a few meters from the shore—surrounded by trees and a garden with a small pavilion for afternoon tea, a swimming pool, and of course, high walls and gates.

“This is your guesthouse?” You asked. “It seems like a real house,”

“Let’s say this is a vacation house where I’m supposed to relax, away from all the chaos,” Hyunjin said.

“You even had an outdoor shooting range a moment ago,” You added.

“Chan Hyung had it built 2 years ago,” He said, parking the car as soon as it entered the guesthouse grounds. “Your things will be carried to your room so feel free to look around. Felix will attend to you in a bit,”

“Okay,” You said, letting yourself out of his car as you watched him going to Chan. They walked inside the house as Felix remained with you. The latter was smiling until his ears made you awe. He’s the only sweet one around. A total ball of sunshine.

When Chan and the rest of his brothers gathered in the main living room while discussing the terms and conditions with Hyunjin, Felix got busy touring you around like a professional tour guide yet you couldn’t help but notice the gun being displayed on his belt. Everyone has.

“Why do you always carry that?” You asked as Felix stopped explaining some things when you got distracted.

“Oh, it’s for emergencies,” He said as you walked around the guesthouse.

And while you were occupied, Chan received a distress message written on his phone. Han was alerted that accomplices from last night were already lined up in the shooting range after they were brought to the island and needed confrontation. Hyunjin stood up immediately and left the premises as he hurried to the shooting range, not far from the house. Everyone followed him which caught your attention and Felix’s.

“Emergencies like that, probably,” You heard him say.

“What’s happening?” You asked when Han came.

“Felix, Chan wants you there. Take Y/n with you,” He said and ran to catch up with the guys—leaving you confused. You followed Felix out from the gates and headed to where they were. It didn’t even take 10 minutes of the tour and now you’re standing here with them with those unfamiliar faces kneeling down in front of the brothers. You hold on to Felix while watching them. Those men have bruises, obviously after being beaten up. Their hands were cuffed and blood was dripping from their heads. If this island is only for the brothers, why would they bring them here?

“Baby, come here,” Hyunjin suddenly said, to which everyone was caught off guard. He was gesturing to you as he reached out his hand—fingers motioning you to come closer.

“Baby? What the fuck?” Seungmin said in disgust.

Your heart started to beat faster—of course, you remembered Hyunjin became your crush for a few minutes during the party, kissed you, and killed some people. Now you are not surprised if he’s going to have another shooting activity. Everyone was quiet and next to him was Chan with a gun in his hand. The others stood on the side, waiting for something to happen. This family never fails to make surprises within the first 24 hours, especially Hyunjin.

It is breathtaking to witness eight handsome brothers wearing formal attire—either black or white. Hyunjin was wearing all black, from his long-sleeved polo to his pants and belt, silver rings adorned his fingers, and a black bracelet. His ears were pierced. You didn’t even notice how good they looked on him the first time you laid your eyes on him during the party. The broad daylight caused you a thorough observation. He’s so damn attractive.

You didn’t notice you were staring at him for a while now that he turned to you—lowering his Versace sunglasses, cocking his head.

“Baby,” He called again. You placed your hand above his as he pulled you gently closer to him. “Now, look,” He added, wrapping his left arm around your waist while pulling out the gun hiding on his belt.

“What?” You asked, turning your eyes to those men.

“They are accomplices of the man who tried to assault you last night,” He said.

“Are you going to kill them too?” You asked, trembling under his touch.

“You may want to cover your ears for this, love,” He whispered as his hand covered your eyes while yours came to cover your ears.

“How did you get inside the Park’s Foundation?” Chan asked them.

“That’s none of your business,” One of them spoke when a gunshot was heard making you flinch. Hyunjin made you turn around as if he was hugging you, again. You buried your face on his chest, hugging him tightly.

One down. Three to go.

“You will never make us speak about the Jungs,” Another one said.

“I know you won’t. We don’t need anything from you,” Hyunjin said, cocking his gun before aiming it at the man’s forehead, making the man flinch in response. “I don’t like people who meddle with my business. She’s mine to take, motherfucker. Any last words? Any of you?” It seemed like Hyunjin was worked up but managed to keep his cool.

“Fuck you, Wolves!”

Hyunjin pulled the trigger as continuous loud gunshots were heard through the island. You flinched at the sound and wanted to walk away but you couldn’t move, again. The same scenario happened twice within the first 24 hours. Why would they want you here?

“Dispose of them,” Chan ordered. “Take Y/n back to the guesthouse. We’ll investigate further of this,”

“Yes Sir,”

“Are you okay?” Hyunjin asked, turning to you while removing his sunglasses as he felt you were shaking from what just happened.

“Y-yeah,” You stuttered while holding his forearms for support.

You admit that was cool of him but who the fuck would shoot people in broad daylight?! And Chan too?! You weren’t sure about the baby call sign but it made your heart leap. It was unexpected of him to say that you’re now confused about what kind of treatment you are getting from him. It’s either he’s concerned, hot-tempered, nonchalant hot motherfucker, or what.

Hyunjin doesn’t understand how he feels about you. Maybe he felt sympathy because you had the same tragic stories to tell. You are one of his rare cases. Maybe the first when he is supposed to be out there killing someone—just like what happened a few minutes ago. Felix came to take you back to the guesthouse leaving him alone on the shooting range, watching the guards cleaning up the mess he just made. Seungmin patted his shoulder before walking away—following Chan back to the guest house. It wasn’t even 10 in the morning.

“Tsk,” And at that moment, he left.

“I hope you won’t hate us for what Hyunjin just did,” Felix said as he made you sit on your bed.

“They probably deserve it,” You said, hanging your head low.

“He does,” Felix smiled. “But hey, don’t worry, we’re doing this to protect you,”

“I know,” You smiled bitterly. “It’s just that, I wasn’t expecting that my life would change in a snap. Everything is new to me,”

“I know,” Felix answered. “Are you okay?”

“I’m not, I’m scared,” You sniffed, hugging your knees closer to your chest as Felix sat in front of you.

“I apologize for making you witness everything of this,” He sighed. “We can’t do anything about it, Y/n. If anything happens to you, this rivalry will continue to grow,”

“I know,” You cried. “Hyunjin and Chan don’t need to show me. I mean, I didn’t see anything but it’s scaring me,” Felix saw you shaking at that moment and hugged you immediately trying to calm you down.

“It won’t happen again,” He added, hugging you tighter. “You should take some rest, my brothers and I are heading back to Seoul after lunch,”

“What? I thought you were staying for a few days?” You asked, looking at him.

“Can’t,” Felix smiled. “You saw what Hyunjin did right? We’ll do the same once we get back to Seoul. The Jungs are making offenses now so we better do something. Those men were brought here to be punished. Don’t worry, Hyunjin will take care of you and there are a lot of guards around. We’ll be back soon to check up on you,”

And so, they did. You hugged Felix tightly before he could get into the private jet. Such a shame that you didn’t get to spend some time with him when he’s only the one who made you feel welcome and comfortable. The others didn’t seem to grow on you at the time and left after saying goodbyes and reassured that they’d come back. Jeongin didn’t say a word to you ever since you came—even Changbin.

“They don’t like me that much, right?” You asked Hyunjin as you stood together far away from the runway.

“You can’t force someone to like a person who you just met,” Hyunjin answered with his hands in his pockets, watching the jet take off. “But Felix is already fond of you and maybe Seungmin,” He added and waited for the jet to disappear from your sight. You made sure you waved at them goodbye even if they wouldn’t be able to see that anymore and Hyunjin was assumed. “Let’s go,”

“Will you kill someone again?” You asked making Hyunjin to stop when he was about to leave.

“Not unless someone we don’t know comes in here, or a traitor,” He said as if it were nothing. Well, he’s an assassin for a reason.

“You scared me back there, and last night,” You said, making Hyunjin turn to face you.

“It is my job,” He said. “I do what I am asked to do. Don’t tell me you’re thinking that I’ll kill you too?”

“No!” You answered immediately. “Just… just don’t drag me again when you shoot someone. Even if you ask me to turn around, I don’t want to be in the actual scene,”

“I can’t promise you that,” He said. “You won’t survive alone unless you know how to use a gun to protect yourself,” And with that, he started to walk away leaving you sniffing on the verge of tears.

You stayed inside your room during the early days ever since you got here. Hyunjin only sees you during breakfast, lunch, and dinner and then you disappear. He often spends his time at the shooting range—still practicing his skills (you could hear them) or sometimes you see him taking a stroll by the shore alone, from your bedroom’s window. It felt like living with a stranger. Which it is, to begin with. You don’t talk a lot, no Hi’s and Hellos, Good mornings and Goodnights, just a single nod and silence.

How could you talk to him again when you dislike him? After all that happened and he’s being a bitch sometimes. You can’t understand him either.

Hyunjin didn’t even wonder why it felt like you were his prisoner who voluntarily locks themself inside when you’re allowed to walk around. Of course, he knew how you feel about him. One apology wouldn’t heal your trauma.

It felt lonely for him—it felt different way back to how he was living with his brothers in Seoul. But he asked for a vacation and this is it, minus the fact that he has to watch over you and you’re not amused with the situation. No WiFi, just old movies being downloaded that are on repeat, no calls and messages, except for Hyunjin, and just a bunch of books being piled in your room, some are found in the main living room. It’s like spending your summer at a summer camp where you’re supposed to reconnect with nature but the difference is, you’re always inside your room and living with a skilled assassin.

Your phone is useless, your laptop is useless, and you are helpless. Sleeping is not an option anymore. You are bored and you are fighting the urge to speak to someone. You can’t even trust the staff working around here, how come you think about Hyunjin?

It was a Friday afternoon when you decided to drag yourself out of that prison and made your way toward the gate—heading to the shore. You were wearing a canary long-sleeved polo and beige shorts as you walked barefoot with a book in your hand. Unbeknownst to your presence, Hyunjin was walking at a distance. You sat on a small bench letting the gentle sunset warm up your skin and provide the bright rays to let you read. It is just a random book that caught your attention while walking around the house this morning.

You started to read while crossing your legs, letting the wind play with your hair as you flipped the pages. Words to words, sentences to paragraphs, chapters to chapters. Hyunjin saw you at that time and just walked past by. And the same scenario keeps on happening every other afternoon until one Wednesday afternoon, he finally sat down beside you—making you startled.

“Is that book entertaining?” He asked.

“Barely,” You sighed. “There’s nothing much I can do around the house,”

“For you, but I’m happy I’m here,” He said. “A break that I need,”

“Good for you,” You sighed again. “Why are you talking to me?”

“Because I’m bored?” He asked, being unsure.

“You? Bored? Beats me,” You scoffed.

“I am,” Hyunjin answered, rolling his eyes. “You’re bored, are you?” He asked.

“Obviously,” You answered, closing the book. “I don’t spend my free time that well without an internet connection,”

“Had to cut it off so they won’t find you,” Hyunjin answered.

“I know,” You said, looking at the calm waves crashing on the shore. “Those men you shot the other day, what was their motive?”

“They work for the Jungs. The man at the party was a spy. They probably shared your profile with everyone so they’d find you easily,” He started. “They were brought here after it was revealed that they’re the rats and came to the party with him,”

“You were showing off when you killed them by the way,” You said which made him chuckle in response. “And if I didn’t know what you do, I would have sued you when I get out of here. You even called me Baby and kissed me. It made my heart leap. You shouldn’t do that,”

“Oh, I did?” He smirked. “I just don’t like my property being touched by anyone else,” It made you want to jump into the water. How could he say that just like that?

“I’m not your property,” You hissed. “I am my own person,”

“Baby, as long as you’re here, you are labeled as mine,” He said without removing that fucking attractive smirk on his face before leaving you alone and walking back to the gate. “Don’t stay out late, sweetheart,” He winked before he could even go in.

“What a jerk,” You said under your breath—being a blushing mess.

Dinner happened quietly as you sat across from each other. Only the steak knife, spoon, and fork were forced to make sounds along with the glasses being half-filled with wine. You tried to focus on your food and yet Hyunjin’s facial features made you take glances at him. It was hard not to look at him—remembering the fact that you find him attractive, that actually became the case. The crush thing wasn’t that serious—it only faded after it occurred.

Hyunjin pretended as if he didn’t notice how you looked at him and when he caught you staring, you’d look away. He smiled to himself while munching his food while your head hung low.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” He asked, taking a sip of his wine.

“I’ve seen them,” You answered, shoving a piece of steak in your mouth.

“All of them?” He asked, being amused.

“There are only a dozen,” You said. “I can watch 4-5 movies a day,”

“I guess it’s true that you’re a home buddy,” He chuckled.

“I am,” You answered. “There’s nothing for me to watch anymore,”

“A night stroll?”

“Too cold,”

“Read a book?”

“I just finished a trilogy, I’m tired,”

“Sleep?”

“Hyunjin, I don’t have anything to do the whole day, what makes you think that I won’t sleep if I’m not reading?”

Hyunjin eventually gave up.

“What do you want to do then?” He asked.

“I don’t know…” You answered, making Hyunjin sigh.

“Alright, we’ll figure out what else we can do,” Hyunjin said then it made you notice a sudden change of attitude.

“You know what scares me more?” You asked.

“What?”

“I know you murder people as a job, and that scares me, but you being hospitable and nice, scares me more,” You said, leaning onto the table and making him laugh. That’s unexpected, he’s cute. His eyes disappear as his mouth opens to laugh. He’s like a laughing weasel, but louder.

“I’m not a bad person, Y/n,” He said. “I don’t do shits without a valid reason, I kill criminals. Not civilians. If I’d been careless, I would die without a gun,” You didn’t say anything after that, but you thanked him for dinner, and just like any other night, you went back to your room.

It started raining a few moments after you got inside your room. It’s the first time you have ever experienced such a phenomenon and it’s scaring you too. It was unexpected to rain that night with thunder and lightning—they were all visible from your window, knowing that you were facing the ocean. The curtains don’t help to turn a blind eye out of it. You can’t even sleep, not even a blink. It was also cold despite your navy blue long-sleeved pajamas.

Meanwhile, Hyunjin settled in his room, finishing the bottle of wine from dinner while scrolling through his phone—the data is only limited for him and does not let you know his connection to the outside world. It’s better to be safe than sorry.

Emails kept on flooding his inbox, some came from his brothers and others were invitations to parties. There’s one of them where his presence is a must. But that doesn’t take place in two weeks. Who knows what will happen before the party? He doesn’t even know how to entertain you after all that happened during the past few days. And just like how you felt, you are strangers living under the same roof because of your family affairs.

Hyunjin sighed in defeat as he placed his phone along with his glass on the side table, preparing to sleep—not minding the roaring sounds from the sky when he heard a knock on his door. You are terrified of the storm and can barely sleep. Having the lights on doesn’t help when the loud sounds of thunder make you flinch underneath the duvet. You don’t usually feel like this when you are still living in the city but being placed into a new environment makes it hard to adjust. Especially when they sound like the shots being fired.

“Come in!” You heard Hyunjin say.

It was also a hard decision. No one in this house can be trusted and the maids and other staff were dismissed after 8 p.m. He’s the only choice. You hesitated to go in, but you heard him—he’s probably waiting and not expecting you to be there. Either way, you opened the door with a pillow in one hand as you entered his room, feeling embarrassed and awkward.

“What do you want?” He asked as you hesitated to speak up—biting your lower lip, Hyunjin saw the pillow in your left hand and landed his gaze on your face, waiting to say something. “What?” He asked.

“C-can I sleep with you?” You asked as you felt your cheeks burning. Hyunjin stares at you for a few seconds before the thought of it sinks in which makes him smirk. You realized he was wearing a black tank top and gray sweatpants. His collarbones were highly visible, hair disheveled for what reason? And that broad shoulders, damn—his arms made you want to experience being head locked. “I can’t sleep with the storm outside,” You added, trying not to be distracted.

“Are you checking me out?” He asked, making you shake your head violently.

“Deny it all you want. I can tell that you’re lying,” He said, cocking his head.

“Okay!” You exclaimed. “I was,” You sighed in defeat as Hyunjin scoffed.

“Come here baby,” He said, motioning his head—lifting his duvet for you to slide in.

“Don’t call me baby!” You hissed at him.

“Then, I won’t let you sleep with me,” He said, crossing his arms on his chest.

“No! Wait,” You said. “Just tonight though,”

“Just lay down,” He ordered as you slipped in under his covers—hugging your pillow with your body facing him.

His bed smells like him. That strong intoxicating perfume he had at the party and the one he had the moment you arrived here. It’s kind of soothing.

“Don’t mind me and just go to sleep,” You said but there’s no way that Hyunjin’s going to ignore you. “Good night,” You added, shutting your eyes—covering your face lightly with the pillow.

“Good night,” Hyunjin said.

He won’t be able to sleep for a while.

Morning came as the gentle sunlight peeked through Hyunjin’s window. It woke you up as you were lying a meter beside the window—fluttering your eyes open as you made a small stretch. The pillow you had last night was already lying on the floor and you found Hyunjin’s body facing you. Your hand landed on your chest, clutching it to stop your heart from racing. He looks innocent when he sleeps, like an angel—half of his face is buried in his soft pillow, like a dumpling being squished. A handsome and cute young man, with a great body, veiny arms, and a tattoo on his right arm. A wolf’s head?

The sunlight touched his skin which gave you a more detailed observation of his features. He looked so good up this close. You wondered if he ever dated anyone. It’s probably hard and dangerous, knowing his career at that.

You sat up slowly trying not to wake him up. The sunlight was directed to his face which made you lift your hand a bit higher to cover him. Your eyes didn’t leave him and continued to stare, not like a creep, but someone who is mesmerized by his ethereal beauty. His plump lips that you want to kiss—shut up Y/n. You already got to taste his lips. Fuck. His long bangs resting on his cheek down to the bridge of his nose—your fingers gently pushed the strands behind his ears. Hyunjin felt as if he was just pretending to be asleep.

“You’re beautiful,” You said softly.

“I know, right?” He said in his morning voice. Fucking deep, and hoarse. “Don’t lie when I ask you if you’re checking me out,”

“I’m not,” You denied, cheeks burning from the sight and feeling. Hyunjin opened his eyes and sat up.

“I said, don’t lie,” He answered.

“I said, I’m not,” You denied again making him look at you and leaned closer, whispering something to your ear.

“You’re a bad liar,” He said and walked straight to the bathroom leaving you dumbfounded and red. Meanwhile, he heard the door shut when he was about to take a shower. It made him smile to himself. Cute.

A few moments later, he found you eating alone at the dining table. A chicken sandwich and a glass of milk—it is a luxury. Hyunjin came in his white robe with his hair still soaked from the shower. It almost made you choke on your food—but okay.

“You’re not going out today?” You asked him.

“Good morning, Y/n,” He said, walking past you—settling down on the seat from the other side of the table.

“Good morning,” You replied with a mouth full of bread. “So are you going out or not?”

“Not this morning,” He answered, taking a bite of his food. “Why? Do you want me to leave?”

“No. I’m lonely and you’re literally the only person I talk to,” You said, taking a sip of your milk.

“I’m taking the cabin cruiser this afternoon. Want to join me?” He asked.

“You have a mini yacht?” You asked, amused at how rich this family is.

“Of course, Minho Hyung lent it to me,” He said as if it was nothing.

“Can I go? Pretty please? I’ve never been on one,” You asked again with puppy eyes and pouty lips. Hyunjin looked so done with the expression and made a side-eye. But he doesn’t want to be bitch so there he goes.

“Sure, you might die if I leave you,” He chuckled as you rolled your eyes in response.

The afternoon sunset is the most beautiful scene on this island. It is breathtaking that you never get tired of looking at it every day. You barely witness this kind of phenomenon knowing that you work like a dog during the weekdays and sleep on your days off. It’s a waste of being alive not to enjoy the life of being an actual adult.

It is indeed a nice place to spend your summer with a book in hand while in the middle of the sea and going with Hyunjin could be one of the best times you’ll ever have. You don’t know the rest and you’re not expecting anything good after that. He already hopped inside the cabin cruiser as you were assisted by one of the bodyguards. He said it will only be you and him to the sea while they wait by the shore.

The wind got stronger when you settled inside as Hyunjin was driving it. Black high-waisted shorts and a white polo top, brown sandals, and sunglasses on the crown of your head—Hyunjin thought you were cute but he didn’t need to say that. You sat down at the back, admiring the view while feeling the summer breeze. It was a delicate warmth that touched your skin as it boosted your serotonin—almost making you decide not to leave.

“Are you in for a swim?” Hyunjin asked.

“No! I can’t swim!” You answered.

“What a bummer!” He said.

“I know!”

Not after a while, you felt the boat stop in the middle of the sea as Hyunjin made his way toward the deck.

“What are you doing?” You asked, standing up from your seat—taking your small bag (which holds your sunblock and an unfinished book).

“Swimming,” He said and started unbuttoning his blue-striped polo. You had to look away before attempting to climb on deck. “Are you sure you won’t join me?”

“Hyunjin, if I knew how to swim then I would,” You answered.

“Suit yourself,” He said before jumping into the water as you climbed up—taking a seat on deck catching him rising above water while wiping his face. “The water is so nice! You’re missing out!”

“I’m fine right here!” You defended, taking the book out from your bag and started to read, not minding how long he’d take to swim the entire ocean if he wanted to.

He caught you taking glances at him as he swam around the boat while you were trying to read. The wind kept blowing your hair away as the book flipped its pages on its own. Your head hangs low as you avoid any eye contact Hyunjin would randomly give each time he rises—running his hands, brushing his hair upwards. Which is hot, especially with that body—that washboard abs being molded by the heavens—damn you Hwang Hyunjin. He never fails to make you blush.

You managed to read a chapter without getting distracted but were surprised when Hyunjin decided to get back up through the swim platform, heading to the deck. He was soaked and droplets of water from his clothes and hair were making you wet, including the pages of the book. You tsked at the sight of it as he picked up his shirt with a towel at hand before sitting down next to the empty spot beside you while drying his hair.

“You smell like seaweed,” You said. “Had enough of the ocean?”

“It was just a quick swim,” He defended.

“I read an entire chapter so it was quite a while,” You shrugged. “Thanks for asking me to join you by the way. I could’ve died in boredom back there,”

“You’re welcome,” He smiled for the first time which made your heart warm.

You didn’t know what to say after that and just let him dry his hair, not minding how he kept sprinkling seawater on you. But some things were bothering you at that very moment—his tattoo and the gang war that is currently happening. You haven’t heard from his brothers for a week now and you’re worried. Maybe Hyunjin still have connections with them but at the same time, you don’t have any contact with the outside world. You don’t know what’s going on as you sit there, watching the sunset.

Hyunjin didn’t say a word too but he kept on making noises about how bad the seawater affected the smoothness of his hair. It became frizzy after all the salt it consumed. He hasn’t changed his clothes either and is still topless. You shoved the book back into your bag, putting it away as you sighed—eyes wandering around the horizon. Such a beautiful view.

“Can I ask you something?” You started.

“Hmm?” Hyunjin hummed in response.

“What’s going to happen to me after you get rid of the Jungs?” You asked, looking at him as he stopped drying his hair.

“That would depend on you,” He answered. “We kept you heir to continue the legacy and when everyone’s gone, it’s either you give everything your parents left behind to us and forget about this, or be part of us.” He added as you sighed heavily—looking back at the horizon. “It’s a hard decision since we dropped a bomb on you but still, it’s in your hands,”

“Seems like a big responsibility, Hyunjin,” You answered.

“You have a lot of time to decide, Y/n. It doesn’t matter how long,” Hyunjin smiled.

“I wish someone told me sooner,” You sighed. “What about that tattoo on your left arm,”

“Ah, this?” He chuckled, showing you a wolf’s head as if it was howling—imprinted on his forearm. “It’s an emblem. All of my brothers have one. We identify as Wolves since we don’t share the same surnames. It’s Chan Hyung’s favorite animal,”

“Oh, so that’s why those men you killed called you Wolves?” You asked as he nodded in response. “You guys are cool,”

“You think so?” He chuckled.

“Yeah, and the other clan is simply Jungs. Basic,” You shrugged. “Did your brothers tell anything that they’re visiting?”

“Not yet, they’re busy,” Hyunjin sighed. “So it will be just you and me on this island for quite some time,”

“That’s fine. I just hope they’re okay,” You smiled before standing up to get a closer look at the water. Hyunjin followed you, peeking down below where the anchor was. Then, an idea came into his mind where he playfully tried to push you off the railings making you squeal in shock, but his arms were wrapped around your waist to pull you closer. “Hey! That’s not funny,” You scolded as he laughed in response.

“Your reaction was so cute,” He said making your cheeks heat up.

“Was it?” You chuckled in response. “I would kill you if I fell,”

“You won’t,” He said.

“Oh yeah? Try me,” You smirked as Hyunjin let you go and started chasing you around, laughing at each other when you slipped because of the excess seawater he brought after swimming and fell.

“Y/n! Fuck!” He hissed under his breath and dived in while you were trying to keep your head above water with your arms splashing and flapping around. Hyunjin caught you with one of his arms as the other one made the effort to take you to the swim platform at the back of the cabin cruiser. You were out of breath when Hyunjin took you out of the water—coughing in between. “Shit, are you okay? I’m sorry,” He said being worried as fuck. He didn’t mean to.

“I’m fine,” You coughed, taking a seat as he sighed harshly.

“I’m sorry,” He said taking an extra towel to wrap around your wet body.

“It’s fine, Hyunjin, stop it,” You said, hugging yourself. “Thanks,” Hyunjin sighed again and sat beside you—taking all the strands of hair that were covering your face. You were watching him do it, not realizing you were staring at his lips and remembered how they felt when they were on yours. It was an intoxicating one. You gulped at the thought. He was also drying your hair, slowly twisting the water out of it when his eyes caught where you were looking at.

“Y/n,” He called but you didn’t budge. You were too focused on how his lips quiver when he is worried and how they move when he speaks. “Y/n!”

“I’m sorry, what?” You asked, coming back to him.

“Did the seawater clog your ears?” He chuckled. “You were staring,”

“I’m sorry,” You said as a smirk painted on his lips. You felt his hands on your cheeks as he looked into your eyes, slowly leaning closer which made you freeze on your spot—closing your eyes just in case he’d kiss you. Your heart is racing again. What is happening to you? But instead of expecting a kiss, you heard him laugh instead, making you push him away.

“Don’t tease me like that,” You sighed, not until he moved closer crashing his lips onto yours.

Your hand reached his jaw as your thumb started caressing his cheek while you felt his right arm pulling you closer to his body. The kiss was so hot and intimate that you forgot about falling from the cabin cruiser and as Hyunjin deepened the kiss with your lips molding together, and your arms were already around his neck. Your bodies were pressed together—his plump lips were soft and warm, just like the first time but without the alcohol leaving an aftertaste. Your lips parted slowly allowing his tongue to slip in as your noses brushed against each other while tilting your head to the sides. Your heart never stopped racing.

Hyunjin felt weird. It wasn’t like this during the first time. That kiss was sudden and no lingering feelings unlike what you have right now. Maybe it was how you opened up to him slowly the puppy eyes you showed this morning, or the fact that he once kissed you and that he couldn’t take you out of his mind even though he shouldn’t be feeling any emotions after that. He finds you attractive, that’s a plus—or was it the way you hugged him when you got sacred or the fact that you buried your face against his chest and hugged him while you were sleeping which you are not aware of? Or maybe that time when he woke up first and stared at you this morning and the other day when you slept in his room during the first night. It can be the way you looked at the party or how stupid you were when you got drunk, blabbering nonsense inside his car. He’s confused.

He felt his heart racing too as you hugged him tightly, not knowing how many seconds that have passed when your lips were against each other. It was filled with astonishment for the both of you but it felt more than that, not until you pulled away for some air—leaving you all red and hot. Hyunjin was left hanging as he looked away. He thought it was a good move the second time.

“I-I’m gonna go and change,” You said and was about to stand up when Hyunjin grabbed your wrist.

“You didn’t bring any clothes,” You heard him say. Stupid!

“Right,” You said, looking at his large hand, wrapped around your wrist. “Can you let go now? Dry yourself,”

“I hope that kiss won’t change anything,” He said as you stood there.

“I will,” You said.

“What?” He asked, looking up at you.

“My feelings,” You answered as Hyunjin finally stood up. “You did it the second time without warning,”

“And that’s a problem?” He asked. Bitch.

“The first one was,” You argued. “I mean…”

“You mean what, do you like me?” He asked, grabbing your shoulders for you to look at him.

“You need to try harder,” You said, locking eyes with him.

“So am I allowed to kiss you even without permission?” He asked again, brushing some strands of your hair behind your ear.

“You did them anyway,” You answered. “But I’m still not sure about how I feel about you. I’m still scared, Hyunjin,”

“Y/n, you can trust me,” He argued.

“I know that!” You sighed. “But let’s take a raincheck, shall we?”

“I can wait,” He said, letting you go, and left for the wheel to take you two back to the island.

The awkward atmosphere came back as you two became distant again. It feels the same during the first days you lived together but with the knowledge that you two are interested yet unsure about each other’s feelings. Hyunjin came back to his usual routine by being in shooting range while you stayed by the shore every afternoon to read. No words were exchanged, just glances and awkward dinners. Yet, it wasn’t long enough that another storm came that one night. This time, more terrifying. The trauma that the brothers have left you didn’t go away even if Hyunjin was able to get inside your walls and be friends with you (with a kiss as a tip).

You found yourself outside his room again, knocking on his door with a pillow in hand. Hyunjin didn’t even expect a lot of you to come here after what happened yet it seemed like the storm was getting inside your head. You couldn’t sleep—you couldn’t sleep properly ever since what happened at the cabin cruiser. It’s hard to go to sleep when your heart is racing, your cheeks burning, and having an unsure situationship with Hwang Hyunjin.

He became vulnerable ever since he saw you that evening and it became worse when you slept with him, much worse when you kissed, and now this.

He was wearing a white shirt with its sleeves rolled up onto his shoulders showing his muscular arms and black shorts. His black hair was messy and his eyes were tired from not being able to sleep during the past nights. Same reason though, but with more feelings. He forgot about himself being an assassin but a lover boy.

“Can’t sleep?” He asked as he stared at you, wearing that white long dress and barefooted.

“Yes,” You said softly, closing the door behind you.

“Lay down,” He answered, cocking his head to the empty spot beside him.

You walked slowly as you reached his bed, lifting the thick duvet—slipping inside, and laid down beside him. Hyunjin just watched you move as he stayed still on his spot—sitting on his side of the bed. The wind is cold as it enters through his window being left ajar. His room was dim and only the two lamps from each side of the bed were the ones switched on. Still, you could see his handsome features which you thought were perfectly molded by the gods. A son of Aphrodite with a great body, almost like Poseidon. His eyes fixated on you as you were looking back at him.

Nobody said a word—he wanted to, but nothing came out of his mouth. He became different. So different from the first time you met. He was a man who curses a lot and was hot-tempered, now he’s quiet and distant. This island is supposed to bring you two closer, that’s what you thought after being stuck here with him. But the thing is, the brothers brought you here to protect you—not seducing Hyunjin.

You weren’t used to it and that fucking kisses you shared were special—you thought about it a lot. It was immaculate, one of a kind. He’s a good kisser to be exact. It was out of the plan that you two should fall in love. But after days of having to deal with each other’s presence, apparently, you two grew closer. You just don’t know how to continue this relationship by ignoring the changes in the atmosphere.

“Have you dated anyone?” You asked. That was a stupid question. Really? That’s the first thing you’re going to ask him?

“Hmm, maybe when I was in college but it didn’t work out,” He said. “Nothing worked out, it’s too crucial for my job,”

“So you’ve been doing this since then?”

“Since I turned 20,” He said. “Not really long ago. Why do you ask?”

“Nothing, just curious,” You answered as he laid down, covering his body with the duvet—facing you. “Were you sad?”

“No,” He said, not breaking eye contact. “There’s a lot of fish in the sea and I’m waiting for you,” He added, reaching out his hand to caress your hair.

“I gave it a thought,” You said softly while watching him. “I like you is an understatement. Everything happened so fast and I’m not sure if I’m being valid or not. You fall in love with strangers even without knowing their names, you hook up with someone you just met because you have a lot of feelings, and you’re reckless with someone you don’t know so why does it feel like you’re in a rush within two weeks of getting to know each other after you kissed?” Then Hyunjin stopped as a smile formed on his face.

“Do you want it that way?” He asked. “Rushed?” You shake your head in response.

“I want to date you, so bad,” You told him. “I’ve been lonely for a very long time and spending time with you made it bearable. I’m not used to having someone around and I’m not sure how to handle these feelings. I don’t care if you kill people for a job, you make me feel important even if it’s part of your job too,” You added as he watched your lips quiver as if you were confessing under the influence of alcohol. “I’m a newbie in everything, I don’t know how to have fun. I hope you don’t find me weird, I am stupid I know that but I’m thankful that you managed to put up with my shit the first time we met. I used to think you’re a jerk but you ended up being a different person to me and yet you’re still that Hyunjin I had a crush on that night of the party,” Then, his smile grew bigger as he started feeling giddy about it. He leaned closer to kiss your forehead which lasted for a few seconds as he pulled you closer to his body—hugging you tight.

“Let’s not rush, baby,” He said as you buried your face on his neck. “But things will work out for us, I promise,” He added, kissing your temple.

“You won’t let yourself be in danger because of me, right?” You asked, looking up at him.

“I’m here to protect you, okay? Nothing will happen as long as I’m with you,” He reassured which made you a bit emotional.

Getting attached to him in a short period is between a mistake and a good choice. Letting your guard down was easy but having to think about the consequences of this situation, you will either cry or suffer. No positive outcomes.

“Just… don’t die,” You said, making him laugh in response.

“I won’t,” He said as he gave you a peck on the lips. “I will kill them first,” It tugged a smile on your face.

Who knew that someone you once thought a jerk and a murderer became dear and precious to your heart?

Ever since that night, you and Hyunjin grew closer than ever. You’d take a stroll by the shore before sunset and throw stones—the person who gets to throw the shortest distance gets to be flicked on the forehead. He would hold your hand—interlocking your fingers together as you swing them back and forth while taking a stroll by the shore on a sunny afternoon. Kicking sand, building sandcastles, or just talking with wine and whiskey for a picnic as you watch the sunset together.

Sometimes he’d join you reading under the shade of a large tree in the garden where he lays his head on your lap as you read. There were also times when he would trash his space a meter away just to paint you while you were reading—or if you two got bored, he’d invite you to the shooting range trying to teach you how to use a pistol.

“Focus on the target!” He’d say as you were standing meters away from the shooting target. “If you manage to shoot the red spot over there, then you’re almost like me,”

It was fun—dangerous even. You were unsure about the idea but Hyunjin was persistent to teach you. He offered earmuffs and ballistic glasses for you to use. Your hands were shaking as the bullets hit the spots far from the red spot he’s been talking about.

“Not that, Y/n,” He sighed. Hyunjin already taught you how to disassemble and assemble the pistol, and also elaborated on the parts, how many bullets to fit in, and how to reload. Now you’re here as he stood behind you—arms aligned with yours as he held your hands to take them into the right position. You could feel his hot breath on your neck as he instructed you what to do and you tried not to get distracted by it. “Focus, love,”

“I will if you’re not breathing on my neck,” You said.

“You’ll get more than me just breathing on your neck when you do a good job,” He answered. “Now look at the target and shoot,” Then suddenly, continuous sounds of shots being fired were heard through the island. Even the birds flew away from the trees in disruption. His lessons lasted for days until you were able to shoot the red spot in the middle. A kiss would do as a reward.

You’ve spent your days without the thought of what was actually going on. You forgot why you were sent here and being with Hyunjin felt like you’re finally having a life out of work. You didn’t mind watching the movies being piled on the coffee table all over again as the two of you would cuddle on the couch, laughing and crying from the same plot. I’d take you until 4 am and fall asleep in each other’s arms. He didn’t mind them at all—in fact, he enjoys his time being with you—which he is, in the first place.

Kisses were given at random times.

A peck on the lips when you wake up and before going to sleep—you two sleep together in his room now. He’d kiss your forehead when you fall asleep while watching a movie as he caresses your hair—staring at you as if you’re the most precious treasure in his life. Long kisses when you sit on his lap while you are talking about how your life was crazy as he’d stare at your lips moving nonstop—a hand on your waist as he tackled you down, hovering above you as he presses his lips onto yours, feeling his hot breath and tasting the recent drink he had. Bodies pressed together with your hand around his nape—his tongue pressed on your slightly parted lips leaving ticklish licks making you giggle in between, hearts racing and adrenaline rush.

It came naturally.

“Let’s not rush,” That’s what he said. It was crystal clear but you are acting like a couple during the early phase of a relationship. But that didn’t matter to you anymore. It felt rushed, that’s the point but who cares? After letting your guard down, it’s hard to stand up again. Hyunjin got you wrapped up around his fingers. One small argument would lead to a kiss and make-up afterward. That’s one idea of how you easily give up.

“Love,” He called as you both lay on his bed on a Thursday night.

“Hmm?” You hummed in response as your head placed on his chest, listening to his calm heartbeat while his arms wrapped around your back.

“I got invited to a party,” He answered—kissing the crown of your head.

“You’re leaving?” You asked, lifting your head to look at him.

“Yes but you’re coming with me,” He said, leaving a peck on your lips. “You know I can’t leave you here alone. We’re going home to the mansion,”

“When are we leaving?”

“Tomorrow morning,” He said.

“That’s so soon,” You answered. “Are we coming back here?”

“Depends,” He chuckled. “We can spend the night in your apartment after the party. I’ll make sure no one will know,” He added, kissing the tip of your nose.

“Okay,” You said, giving him a peck on the lips. A small smile formed on his lips as he locked eyes with you with his fingers tracing your bottom lip in an attempt for a kiss.

Your faces lean closer as your lips meet—feeling your noses brushed against each other. Hearts racing once again and blood rushes through your veins. Hyunjin made you lay down flat on your back, meeting his soft mattress covered in beige-colored bed sheets fresh from the laundry. Your heads tilted on different sides as he hovered above you once again, with a hand on your cheek—deepening the kiss. His lips tangled with yours, feeling each other’s hot breaths sending electric shocks all over your body. His kiss felt different from the other ones you’ve had. It seemed hungry and desperate.

Your eyes closed, bodies pressing together then a soft sound was heard from you when you felt his lips on your neck, leaving wet kisses and biting your skin gently.

“What are you doing?” You asked as his kisses traveled down to your collarbones yet you could not still make eye contact with him.

“Shh,” You heard him say before his lips met yours again to shut you up. You felt his fingers slip inside your shirt, tracing your bare skin—slipping them inside your heart-printed pajamas to your black laced panties while never leaving your lips alone. It sent butterflies in your stomach and it became worse when you felt his fingers rubbing against your wetness. “I didn’t do anything that much yet and you’re already this wet?”

It was awkward, you that but how can you blame yourself?

Hyunjin pulled away as he yanked off his tank top, revealing his physique—giving you a closer look. His legs were parted as your hips lay between them. You could feel your cheeks burning at the sight which he finds cute. His lips met yours again, slowly lifting your shirt which you willingly let him. You started breathing faster against his lips when he started removing your pajamas, only leaving you with the black undergarments.

He started sucking and biting your lips as he went back on tracing his fingers from your chest, traveling down inside your panties, feeling your wetness. You let out a soft sound as a reaction to his touch. His long fingers touching your slit are already leaving your mind blank. You are confused and don’t know what to feel. You’ve read about this a lot but never get the chance on having to apply it to yourself. His lips never left yours as you let him take your panties off, not a long moment after because he was annoyed with the feeling of the fabric—limiting his actions.

He parted your legs as you exhaled when you felt his kisses travel on your inner thighs—it drove you crazy when his tongue reached your wet pussy licking and kissing it emphatically. Arching your back as a response, the sounds you make are like music to his ears. It felt so good and hot at the same time. His eyes were watching your reactions as your mouth gapped when started eating you out. Your hands traced his bedsheets, crumpling them for you to hold on tightly.

“God, you’re so wet,” He said as his fingers were dugged into your bare skin, leaving nail marks—slowly pushing his tongue inside.

“Oh!” You breathed out, feeling his tongue inside your walls—your heart was pounding above rate as he never stopped pushing in and out. He felt your hand grabbing his hair making him go deeper with his tongue. It was a weird feeling as your toes curled at the sensation and you loved it. Hyunjin noticed you’re taking it well and he didn’t stop sooner.

One of his hands slipped inside your bra, squeezing your breast against the thick fabric. It fits his hand well. His lips kissed your dripping cunt as he went up to your stomach until he reached your neck, biting down lightly—sucking it, trying to find your sweet spot. You felt his hands on your back, unhooking your bra and getting rid of it on the floor. He was amused with your body, it was perfect. It fits perfectly for him.

“You don’t just have a pretty face, but this body too,” He said in between his kisses on your neck, leaving marks as he heard you moan. His growing bulge is pressing against your hips through his sweatpants. You were panting heavily when he found your sweet spot, causing you to curse him which let out a soft chuckle before taking your lips again. Your nipples hardened when his fingers accidentally brushed them after unhooking your bra—you whimpered softly when he pinched them, slowly pulling your sensitive buds just to tease you out of it.

“Fuck,” You hissed under your breath.

He couldn’t take it anymore. His dick is throbbing inside his pants, upon seeing you fully naked. Hyunjin pulled away as he shoved his sweatpants down on his knees and pulled your hips closer to his. Your face turned red upon seeing his hardened dick up close—you licked your lips biting it before seeing the smirk being plastered on his face.

“Do you want me to continue?” He asked.

“Please,” You pleaded.

Feeling the adrenaline rush, Hyunjin rubbed his cock against your cunt—feeling the friction. Your back met his soft mattress again as he slowly slipped his length inside you, hissing when he realized he was the first one to touch you.

“Fuck,” It hurts, now he knows what to do. Your arms wrapped around his neck as he started to thrust himself inside out as gently as he could yet it caused your eyes to roll back—making sinful sounds. You gasped at the feeling as you were breathing faster. He brought his lips to your nipples as his tongue swirled around the buds before sucking them making you moan in response. “Oh, God,”

He suddenly moved a bit faster which made you go insane. The continuous lustful sounds you make urge him to change his pace. Your legs spread wide indulging the pain and pleasure between them as tears started forming in your eyes—nails dugged into his bare back making red marks visible. Hyunjin growled in response as he went faster making you cry. His lips met yours again, devouring them like no other man could.

Hyunjin sweats easily, making his bangs soaked from all the movements he did. His lips became hotter and plump than before. It’s intoxicating as you could taste your wetness in his mouth with your tongues tangled. He had to turn you around as you were on your knees with your face buried in the pillows—screaming his name feeling high when he started fucking you from behind. Hands tied on your back as your skin slapped against each other. One hand around your neck as the other one locks your wrists together. You are being railed for the first time.

The bed was creaking and he never stopped. He loves it as you were taking his cock so well that it drives him crazy. Your screams were all over the place as you moaned his name repeatedly cursing along with it. But not long after, he started to feel his orgasm coming so close that he had to pull himself out—stroking himself before spilling them out on your back. You lay on your back again realizing his sheets were already wet. It sent butterflies in his stomach seeing you fucked up as you pant in exhaustion.

“Are you good?” He asked, planting a soft kiss on your lips as you nodded in response.

“Just tired,” You smiled.

“Did it hurt?” He asked again, making you red as a cherry.

“It did,” You sighed. “Did you do this before?”

“Maybe,” Hyunjin chuckled. “Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?” He said, kissing your forehead before lifting you as he made his way to the bathroom.

“Love?” It was Hyunjin’s voice that woke you up after a deep slumber. The fact that you got tired from what happened last night made you fall asleep in his arms quickly. Sadly, you didn’t want to get up and stay in bed the whole day but for sure he’s going to drag you out any time now.

“Hmm?” You hummed in response—fluttering your eyes open.

“Get dressed, we’re leaving in an hour,” He said softly as he caressed your cheek. His body was blocking the sunlight that entered through the window as he sat down on your side of the bed. It was a sweet good morning—the way you kissed his palm for a response while closing your eyes, Hyunjin’s heart fluttered inside. “I’ll have your breakfast ready, okay?” He added, kissing your forehead.

“Okay,” You smiled.

“Okay,” He answered—leaving the room, and closing the door behind him.

You let out a heavy sigh and got up to do your morning routine then it led you to some thoughts. Doing things like what couples usually do and yet Hyunjin and you didn’t put any labels until now. You love him, that’s a fact. This is probably because of the things he does—maybe his job or whatever. It is hard to commit and he thought that maybe having a blooming relationship without any labels yet, could be considered as a reassurance that he will pursue you.

Like what you said, like is an understatement. It doesn’t sort everything in place. Like is not enough and flings are just trash.

You found yourself again at the mansion. Felix welcomed you with a tight hug and Seungmin plastered a smile on his face while wearing those glasses on the bridge of his nose which you didn’t notice before. Chan was waiting in his office and Hyunjin left you there with them. Felix had a lot to talk about when he brought you to the main living room. There were no changes for almost 3 weeks that you were gone. The same Seoul City where you grew up but the life you once had disappeared in the blink of an eye.

Hyunjin sat in front of Chan’s desk as Seungmin placed a pile of papers in front of him. Minho on the other hand placed a small envelope on the top of it. Those were signs—signs that he had to go on a mission again and the party that he was invited to is one. They were discussing something important inside as Felix tried to entertain you. It feels good to have him around, you missed him too even if you just talked for less than 24 hours when you left. You also wondered why they didn’t come to visit you on the island.

“So, how did your break go?” He asked. It wasn’t a break, for sure. It was called hiding and falling in love with his brother.

“It was fine. I got a little bored but Hyunjin and I got along,” You answered.

“I’m happy to know!” He beamed. “Ah, there’s a party tomorrow night. Hyunjin is invited,”

“He mentioned it,” You answered.

“It will be an ambush for sure,” Felix said. “That’s why we’re going too, unidentified,”

“Felix,” You called. “My parents didn’t do something illegal when they were alive, right?”

“As far as I know, they knew about the money laundering and corruption circling the city. Even illegal businesses such as human trafficking, exploiting endangered animals, and sponsoring people who use illegal substances. There are big names involved so they were tracking them down, unfortunately, your relatives support these crimes and turned their backs on the organization. They also knew about property ownership and businesses your parents ran to help big companies provide jobs, sponsor children’s education, and donate to schools and other institutions. But you know how this economy works right? There are big names on the list who put the money in their pockets and invest them in the black market,” He explained. “The Jungs wanted to take our properties away so they can make more money out of it and they’re planning to flee the country once you’re dead and take the money with them. Then these businesses and land ownership will be handed down to their right hands and just wait for a large sum of money to be delivered to their bank accounts,”

“That’s worse, huh,” You sighed in defeat.

“You have so much to learn once we get rid of them. You will inherit everything,” He said.

“That’s a big responsibility, Felix,”

“I know,” Felix answered. “But we’re here to help. Seungmin can make them yours one order away, he’s going to be your lawyer once everything is done, and Minho Hyung, your adviser. That’s what we do in this family,”

That’s what we do in this family.

That’s all the reassurance you need. Maybe Hyunjin, taking you here the night of the party isn’t bad after all.

Meanwhile, at Chan’s office, the rest of the brothers have gathered.

“There will be an ambush waiting for you,” Minho said as he sat down on the empty chair beside Hyunjin.

“Felix got the list of names for the party the other day,” Chan added. “Those documents have their profiles along with the list,”

“And the Jungs will be there?” Hyunjin asked.

“We are expecting them,” Seungmin said.

“Now, what do we do for this type of occasion, Jeongin?” Chan asked the youngest.

“Ms. Jung’s uncle will be there and the rest of his family. He got a few men to join him at the party. Some will be undercover so the rest of us will come unidentified,” Jeongin answered. “Ms. Jung will be our bait, so you need to bring her as your plus one,”

“Good, and?” Chan asked.

“We’re going to wait if Mr. Jung will take the bait. He will recognize his niece for sure. You just need to be alert, Hyunjin hyung,” Jeongin said. “Changbin hyung got the blueprint of the venue for the event, there will be surveillance cameras everywhere, however, there are a few blind spots so we can enter the venue without getting caught. We just need to blend in, afterward,”

“The party is tomorrow night so we still have time to prepare,” Changbin said. “Our target is Mr. Jung,”

“What about his men, the wife, and the kids?” Hyunjin asked, rubbing his chin.

“Terminate them all, the wife and kids will be sent to another country, and they will be banned from entering Korea,” Han added. “Seungmin already prepared the documents to file a case against them,”

“Okay,” Hyunjin exhaled.

“Seungmin, tell Felix to bring Y/n here,”

“Yes Sir,”

The night fell as you were studying the documents Seungmin gave you inside Hyunjin’s room. Felix and he were there to explain everything and help you identify who’s who, their crimes, their work, who they work for, and what type of business they run underground. It was A LOT and it’s dizzying.

It’s okay, you graduated top of your class and with flying colors, this is nothing more than your thesis and practicals.

Hyunjin was nowhere to be found at that moment and you were just listening to Seungmin and Felix talk. It distracted you for hours until they left, late at night. Hyunjin suddenly appeared before midnight. He entered the room with a large box and a translucent garment bag with his black suit in it.

“Where have you been?” You asked, standing up from the bed—approaching him.

“Shopping,” He said, throwing his suit on his bed as he handed the large box to you.

“You didn’t invite me,” You pout, making him leave a peck on your lips.

“Chan said you were busy,” He smiled. “That’s for you, open it,”

“Really?” It was a silver mermaid floral spaghetti strap long dress. Your mouth gaps upon seeing it as it looks more expensive than the dress you wore at the first party. It was silky as it shone when the light touched the fabric. “It’s so pretty,”

“Ah, I know, I have the best eyes,” He said proudly. “I knew you would like it,”

“I do!” You exclaimed. “How did you know my size?”

“I read your profile, remember? I didn’t forget,” He answered as you kissed him.

“Thank you,” You said as he stood there frozen on his spot making him a blushing mess.

“You’re welcome,” He was flustered, yes and you find it cute because he is.

Fast forward an hour before the party, the brothers waited for you to come down by the main living room. They were all wearing suits, all black as usual and you were nervous about how they would react when they saw you like this. Surprisingly, you did well in taking care of your hair and make-up. It’s always been like this so you study them yourself. Hyunjin was excited and the rest were anticipating—taking a deep breath, you reached the top of the stairs, slowly walking down on each step because of those damn heels.

Han was the first one to notice you and stood up making everyone do the same. Chan thought it wasn’t bad, Changbin and Minho thought you were good while Jeongin was surprisingly stunned by your beauty. Hyunjin was about to go crazy leaving Seungmin and Felix noticed something, most especially Felix, he’s an intel for a reason and Seungmin can sense a special connection.

“You look beautiful, Y/n,” Han said.

“Thank you,” You smiled at him, feeling flustered as Hyunjin took your hand, kissing the back of it.

“Charming as always,” He said.

“Save you flirting on a later date Hwang,” Seungmin scolded.

“Yeah, also, try to keep it inside your pants for the whole evening,” Felix laughed, making Hyunjin glare at them.

“What the fuck?” He hissed.

“We know something happened on that island but we won’t ask,” Seungmin shrugged as your lips formed into a thin line out of embarrassment. How did these guys know? Ah, yes, the guards.

“Let’s go,” Chan said out of nowhere as they all obliged to take their way out. “Hyunjin, you know what to do,”

“Yes, Sir,” Hyunjin bowed as he assisted you to his car.

“What is it?” You asked, taking a seat as he locked your seatbelt.

“Nothing, just enjoy the party—alright?” He smiled, leaving a peck on your lips as he started driving. “You’re aware that your uncle would be there right?”

“Yes,” You answered.

“Whatever happens, I want you to leave immediately. Jeongin will take you somewhere safe but as long as the party goes on, stick with me the whole time unless I tell you otherwise, alright?” He instructed as you nodded in response. “Good,”

You and Hyunjin entered the venue while Chan and the rest of the Wolves parked a block away. It was to avoid being noticed by the Jungs as they used a secret passageway. The blueprint Felix had was helpful enough to find blindspots around the area, guns being loaded—hidden behind their blazer as they patiently waited to be used.

Minho was right, there was an ambush waiting for Hyunjin and your uncle saw you with him unbeknownst about the bait. His eyes were checking the place discreetly as the other Wolves scattered around the area—exchanging voice messages to their earpiece and mics. Felix walked past behind your uncle upstairs as he was on standby looking at his precious niece and Hyunjin.

“Target locked, he’s by the railings watching Hyunjin and Y/n,” Felix whispered to his mic.

“Copy that,” Jeongin answered as he was standing by the counter. “Two men are here, they have tattoos with Jung’s emblem, Snakes,”

“I got four men here by the pool,” Changbin answered.

“Stay close,” Chan said, walking on a blind spot, cocking his pistol secretly as he observed Mr. Jung’s wife and two kids.

“Hyung, I think we’re outnumbered,” Han said, walking by a group of guards who were obviously from the rival gang.

“Fuck,” Minho hissed from the other side.

“Hyunjin stay alert,” Seungmin said, taking a glass of whiskey beside Jeongin.

“Copy,” Hyunjin answered, before turning into you. “Do you want to drink, Love?”

“No,” You said, immediately refusing. “Remember the first time we met? I vomited in your car and it smells so bad,” You added, making Hyunjin chuckle in response.

“Okay, okay,” He said. “I’ll get something for me on the counter, alright,” He added before leaning closer to whisper something. “You know what to do,” You just hummed in response as Hyunjin left you in the middle of the dance floor, Mr. Jung signaled one of his men to come closer and whispered something before going downstairs.

Felix stood behind them and heard the conversation, immediately sending a distress message to everyone.

“Incoming to Ms. Jung,” Felix said. “He’s approaching the bait,”

“Jeongin, stand close to Y/n,” Hyunjin said, cocking his head at the youngest as Jeongin immediately left.

The moon is shining bright in the sky along with the luminous stars twinkling like sparkles. You stood in the middle of the dancefloor aware of Jeongin’s presence. The party is like a ball where the people who were invited are filthy rich—Hyunjin was invited because he donates money to fashion institutions and charity events. The host used to be a family friend but Hyunjin only came here for the sake of Mr. Jung’s undeserving life.

The ball is glamorous indeed—it is the theme of the party, and the lights are dim as they rely on the moonlight and lanterns surrounding the dancefloor. It was packed. Most of these people are unknown to you and the only target you should focus on is your uncle. But then, he was out of sight.

“Ah, cousin!” A stranger’s voice was heard as he came in your direction. You tilt your head upon seeing the person who became familiar after reading about the family members of the Jungs.

Wooyoung.

“I’m sorry, do I know you?” You asked.

“Felix, I thought Mr. Jung was going to take the bait! Not his son!” Han half-yelled to his mic.

“I’m following him as we speak, he’s going to the basement,” Felix whispered in an attempt to follow the target without being noticed. “Send me Changbin hyung,”

That came unexpectedly—Wooyoung has a big smile on his face right now while clapping his hands in amusement with two bodyguards behind him. Jeongin was alerted.

“Hyunjin hyung, Wooyoung is here,” He said.

“Fuck,” Hyunjin hissed, leaving his whiskey unattended by the counter leaving Jisung on the lookout. “Tell Y/n to go,”

Changbin left his spot and went to follow Felix. The old man is becoming more suspicious.

“You think it’s a trap?” Seungmin said from the other line.

“They don’t know Y/n’s coming,” Chan answered. “Tell her to leave! Jeongin, take her away, and Hyunjin stall Wooyoung for a bit,”

“Noona, we have to go,” You heard Jeongin say, which caught Wooyoung's attention.

“Oh, you’re with one of the Wolves? I thought the only Wolf invited was Hyunjin,” He asked, being curious when he read all the names invited for the party.

“Noona we really need to go,” Jeongin said again. It wasn’t even 10 minutes ever since you arrived and now you’re being asked to leave.

“Maybe some other time,” You told Wooyoung as you were about to leave with Jeongin but he was persistent.

“Hey, we have a lot to catch up on,” He said but only it would take a second to steal one of Jeongin’s guns from his belt, cocking it before turning around to point it at Wooyoung’s forehead. His bodyguards immediately took their weapons pointing at you, making Jeongin raise his hands in surrender. Wooyoung wasn’t amused but it was unexpected.

“Leave her alone,” Hyunjin suddenly came out of nowhere pointing his pistol at Wooyoung from behind.

“Hey, hey put those guns down! I just want to talk,” He said.

“Where’s your father?” You asked, still not moving from your spot. Jeongin couldn’t do anything but stand still, whispering something on his mic.

Meanwhile, Felix and Changbin were following Mr. Jung—it was out of plan that he’d be down here when he was supposed to take the bait. Not Wooyoung. Chan, Minho, and Seungmin came to join the party while Han started to look for Felix and Changbin discreetly.

“I don’t know, probably somewhere,” He said with a cocky smile plastered on his face as he is currently surrounded. “You brought her here, so hand her over then nobody gets hurt,”

“Bitch,” You murmured—raising your right hand as a loud gunshot was heard.

“Noona we need to go!” You heard what Jeongin said. Everyone panicked and ran outside leaving you and the Wolves along with your so-called relatives. Chan and Minho shot his bodyguards as Hyunjin was about to take Wooyoung hostage, he suddenly took his gun out pointing it at him. Everything happened so fast that you didn’t realize Jeongin was already leading you outside the venue.

“Wait, Hyunjin!” You said—letting go of Jeongin’s grip before you could even get out and go back inside.

“No! Noona come back!” You heard Jeongin call but ignored him.

You were welcomed by gunshots being exchanged as you hid under a table—you realized you still had Jeongin’s gun with you, checking how many bullets were left. This will be enough. Wooyoung already ran away as Chan, Minho, and Seungmin were left on the dancefloor, reloading their guns as they hid behind the bar counter. I need to find Hyunjin.

“Fuck,” Jeongin cursed under his breath as he took the other way back to the venue. You looked around trying to find a blind spot so no one would notice you coming through—by taking off your heels, you hurriedly transferred to the table next to where you were hiding. Chan fired a shot and noticed you behind the guards.

“Seungmin cover me,” Chan ordered as Seungmin fired with Minho. He managed to shoot one down as Chan fled the counterbar by hiding behind the columns.

Chan followed you until you reached the stairs that led to the basement. You ran downstairs barefooted as you saw a glimpse of Hyunjin running to a hallway—probably chasing Wooyoung. Unfortunately, it was a trap and Felix, Han, and Changbin were held hostage by Mr. Jung who tied them into a room, guns pointed at their heads by the rest of his bodyguards. Hyunjin was also led to the trap. They were outnumbered.

You couldn’t get inside and peeked through behind a large vase with huge leaves. Chan was able to grab your arm—pulling you towards a blind spot.

“What are you doing? You were instructed to leave with Jeongin?” He asked, having his grip around your arm tightened as it was hurting. The way he stares could kill you as they were ice cold yet, burning of anger.

“I can’t leave Hyunjin alone,” You reasoned out when someone from behind hit the back of Chan’s neck, causing him to pass out, making you scream in terror when they grabbed you to the room with him. “Let me go!” You yelled at the man but he doesn’t give a fuck and even if you tried to let go of his grip—he was too strong to pull you back again.

Your voice was heard throughout the basement until you reached the room. You saw the Wolves kneeling—hands tied behind their backs as you stood there in front of them. They were surrounded and a man was holding your arm, preventing you from escaping. Chan was unconscious. Felix got a bruise on his forehead and a busted lip. Han and Changbin were also beaten up, and Hyunjin had a gun directed to his temple by Wooyoung as he licked his inner cheek in annoyance—blood dripping from his forehead, a cut at the side of his brow, a busted lip. What the fuck did they do?

“Where are the rest of the Wolves?” Mr. Jung asked.

“I don’t know,” You answered firmly. You could see your uncle having that smile plastered on his face while sitting down with a glass of wine in one hand. Fucker.

The only ones missing were Seungmin, Minho, and Jeongin.

“Find them!” Mr. Jung ordered.

His wife was there, standing beside her bastard husband. It was a trap after all. The Wolves couldn’t say a word, but you are sure that they’re worried about what’s going to happen. Nobody expected this and you were dumb to follow Hyunjin, but if you didn’t, what could happen? Your eyes wandered around the area to find something to make a solution or a way to get out. But you can’t do this alone.

Fuck, these are all walls and there’s only one entrance and exit.

“After all these years of looking for you,” You heard your uncle say. “You came straight to the mouse trap,” He added as he stood up—walking towards you.

“Sir, we found them!” But not long after the chase, Seungmin, Minho, and Jeongin were brought into the room and were forced to kneel beside the rest of the Wolves. Grunts were heard from them and after that, they were quiet, but their faces were saying that they were not happy with the setup.

“Ahh, the rest of the orphans are here!”

Motherfucker.

“Your parents had a great legacy, too bad it was cut short because of the incident 20 years ago,” Mr. Jung laughed. “It didn’t hurt when my father chose my brother to be the Godfather when I’m capable of doing the business. Money was tight but cheers to the black market and soon, your properties and businesses,”

“I’m not giving them to you!” You argued as he sighed in response while shaking his head.

“I know you would say that,” He answered. “But let me make you a deal, each time you refuse, one of them dies,” He added, pointing to the brothers. “Who was it Wooyoung? Hyunjin is it?”

“Yes, her boyfriend,” Wooyoung answered.

“Ahh, you thought we didn’t know what happened,” Mr. Jung said. “I have someone who has access to the mansion and Chan’s private island. You thought you killed everyone from the party a month ago?”

It was probably one of the guards. Sigh… come on, think Y/n, think.

“Kill him,” You said, making everyone jump into surprise.

“Are you nuts, Y/n?!” Seungmin exclaimed.

“Shut up, Kim!” Wooyoung scolded.

“If plan A won’t work, we have a plan B,” Hyunjin said the night before as you two sat on the floor with the documents Seungmin left you to study.

“Obey them,” You answered.

“Yes,” He answered. “My brothers and I have secret pockets in our sleeves so we can still use small weapons if we struggle—they will take you from us for sure and if we get captured, buy their time. We know how to act,”

“Hold it,” Mr. Jung said, raising his hand. “What are you playing at?” He added, looking at you.

“You said that every time I refuse to give you rights to my parents’ properties, you’d kill one of them, which I am. I won’t give it,” You smiled at him.

Meanwhile, Hyunjin was playing with his zippo trying to get loose from the rope being tied around his wrists—slowly making a small flame. Minho was able to slip his pocket knife inside his sleeve and did the same—cutting the rope slowly for anyone not to notice his movements.

“You killed my parents so I’m sure killing my boyfriend won’t make any difference. Shoot him,” You said, leaning closer to your uncle’s face—gritting your teeth at him.

Your uncle raised a brow and seemed like finally getting the actual bait as he signaled Wooyoung to pull the trigger when Hyunjin was quick enough to dodge it—sweeping him off of his feet by swinging his legs to his ankles. The shot was fired at his bodyguard making the Wolves free from the knots, taking their guns out as they formed a circle—backs against each other. Unfortunately, the man didn’t even bother letting you go, instead, a gun is already at the side of your head.

Wooyoung got up wincing from the pain in his shoulder after he fell. It was embarrassing. He picked up his gun and pointed it at Hyunjin again.

“If you think you’re so clever to make them out of the ropes, you’re wrong, girl,” Your uncle said. “Any last words before I kill you?” He asked as he signaled the man to hold you tighter—your left hand managed to snake inside your dress as you hid the gun behind your back before firing the man’s feet making him push you away. After that, you shot your uncle in his chest before he could even react.

Good thing your gun was hidden inside your dress, assisted with a leather garter on your leg.

The Wolves started firing those men as Wooyoung ran away, his mom didn’t even make it out alive.

Gunshots were exchanged, as Felix got behind your back, firing.

“Hyunjin, get Wooyoung!” You heard Chan say, “We’ll cover you!” Hyunjin immediately fled from the room as he chased Wooyoung out of the basement, and back to the main hall.

“You need to follow Hyunjin,” Felix said.

“What about you guys?” You asked, aiming the gun at whoever tried to come closer. Bodies were already on the floor, some had the guts to hide and dodge the bullets from the Wolves.

“We can manage, just go!” Felix commanded, making you exhale harshly, and left the room—running back upstairs, barefooted. You saw a man lying down on the floor before you could reach the top and grabbed his gun, checking if there were bullets left.

“4 bullets?” You sighed as you checked yours too. “4, okay. 8 bullets will be enough,”

The coast was clear when you got back up to the main hall. It was a mess, tables and chairs had been turned, holes in the walls and fabrics from the bullets, some of the lanterns were broken, even the huge banner. No one was there except you and you’re worried about where Wooyoung has been leading Hyunjin to. It won’t be the basement of course.

Could it be at the parking lot?

Lifting your dress, you ran outside to the parking lot not minding how painful it is to rush out of the venue without your heels—but they’ll slow you down if you haven’t got them removed. And you’re right, Wooyoung and Hyunjin were still there, holding each other’s gunpoint. You hid by one of those parked cars and slowly took your way closer to where they were.

“It’s dumb how it took you 20 years to find her,” Hyunjin said.

“They did,” Wooyoung answered. “But we needed a motive to kill her. Not just her being the first in line,”

“She didn’t know anything until we told her!” Hyunjin argued.

“You put the idea inside her stupid little brain,” Wooyoung said. “She was easy to kill before then,”

“She will never give it to you,” Hyunjin answered with his arm firm enough to shoot him. You were able to sneak a few meters behind Wooyoung. Hyunjin pretended not to see you as he kept buying your cousin’s time. “Your father’s dead! She shot him,”

“You Wolves killed my mother too,” Wooyoung retorted.

“Your parents made us orphans. All of us!” Hyunjin said. “You don’t deserve the Godfather’s empire. It was built for a good cause and that’s not for you to make dirty. How does it feel to be alone now?” Hyunjin asked, cocking his head with a sly smirk on his face as you pointed the gun at your cousin’s head—shaking from anger.

“You deserve to die,” Wooyoung said, clenching his jaw, and was about to pull the trigger to aim at Hyunjin’s head when a loud gunshot was heard, making him kneel on the ground—collapsing a few seconds later.

Your pistol was hot as white smoke escalated from the hole. Hyunjin immediately moved away in case he got hit before you ran up to him—embracing him tightly.

It’s over.

The rest of the Wolves came to the parking lot after hearing the gunshot only to find you hugging Hyunjin.

It’s over—it’s finally over.

“Are you okay?” You asked—looking at him as you examined his face. “You didn’t get hit right?”

“I’m good,” He said, hugging you again. “You must be terrified,”

“No… but, I can’t believe I shot them,” You sniffed, burying your face against his chest.

“Baby, you did good, okay? They’re bad people,” He answered, caressing your back—kissing you on the forehead. “Let’s go home, you must be exhausted,”

“Are you guys okay?” Minho asked out of worry as you turned around to look at them. Felix seemed to be injured as he was assisted by Han and Seungmin.

“What happened?” You asked, hurriedly approaching the three of them.

“He got shot on his leg,” Seungmin sighed.

“God,” You cried, hugging Felix tightly which made the man chuckle in response. “I’m sorry,”

“Y/n, I’m fine,” He reassured, patting your back while painting a smile on his face.

“Yeah, she’s fine, we’re fine,” Hyunjin answered Minho.

“He’s dead?” Chan asked, pointing at Wooyoung’s body.

“Y/n shot him,” Hyunjin answered. “And the rest?”

“No one survived,” Changbin said.

Everyone felt relieved that night except Felix who struggled to walk because of his injured leg. Minho carried him like a bride as the younger one winced in pain as they left for the car. You were tailing them as Seungmin noticed your dress got ripped and you were barefooted.

“You’re a mess, girl,” Seungmin said, making you shrug in response—mascara being smudged.

“I wasn’t expecting to be like this but thank you for noticing,” You chuckled, reaching out your arm as Seungmin smiled, letting you wrap your arm around his broad shoulders although he’s a bit taller than you.

“Let’s go home, we still have a business to discuss,” You heard Chan say but Hyunjin begged to differ.

“Hyung, can’t Y/n just rest for tonight?” He said but Chan’s eyes landed on the two of you and said; “Are you tired, Y/n?”

“No,” You shake your head. “Let’s talk about the ownership,” You added, letting go of Seungmin— walking towards Hyunjin’s car making Chan smirk at him.

“You heard your girl, lover boy,”

“You got a fighter,” Changbin said, making a fist bump with Hyunjin making him cocky.

“Noona stole my gun,” Jeongin sulked as he got inside Chan’s car.

“You have a wall of guns in your room, a pistol is not that big of a deal,” Chan answered, making the youngest sigh in defeat.

You all went home after that and let the cops get to the venue a few minutes after you left. The news was all over the place and all of Korea was watching. No names were dropped except from the Jungs who died. There will be no problems now—unless there will be another list of names to shoot.

Meanwhile, everyone was inside Felix’s room as Minho was treating him—the man got a master’s degree in medicine. Unpredictable.

“He’ll be sent to a hospital, I already called an ambulance,” He said.

“Are you good, bro?” Han asked Felix who was obviously in pain.

“Do you think I’m good, Han?” Felix hissed at him, making everyone laugh.

“Now, Y/n, time for your decision,” Chan suddenly butted in as he signaled Seungmin to hand over the documents you need to sign for transferring your names to the ownership. “You can leave this all behind and let us handle everything or you want to continue your parents’ business and be our partner,” He smiled for the first time.

And without hesitation, you signed it.

“The latter, Chan, I will work with you,” You smiled at him—reaching out a hand for a shake. The boys didn’t have the time to react that they were happy with your decision. Especially Hyunjin.

“Wise choice,” Chan said, shaking your hand. “We’ll contact Mr. Park tomorrow so we can schedule a meeting, alright?”

“Welcome to the family, Y/n!” Seungmin said, hugging you tightly.

Family.

You finally have a family.

Hyunjin cleared his throat as Seungmin rolled his eyes, letting you go out of the hug.

“She’s going to be my sister-in-law, anyway Hyunjin,” Seungmin said.

“Shoo,” Hyunjin said as he pulled you closer to him.

The rest of the evening was not a surprise anymore. Felix was sent to the hospital with Minho and Chan with him, while the rest of the Wolves were ordered to stay and rest. You found yourself on the rooftop wearing your pajamas. Sitting there alone as the cold breeze of the wind dries your hair feels so calm. It was a very long day and a very long night—you’re glad it’s over but you knew you still have a lot to do starting tomorrow. A meeting, negotiations and maybe getting a new job.

Your life changed in the blink of an eye.

The heavens finally gave it to you and it is more than you could ask for.

A man who suddenly showed up and became the love of your life, a profession that would put a lot of things on the table, and the most valuable, a family. You’re not lonely anymore.

Although there is still one thing to be finalized…

“Love?” You heard Hyunjin’s voice as he walked upstairs to the rooftop. “I thought you were with Seungmin for notarization,”

“No, he said we can do that tomorrow,” You smiled. “Sit here, we have to talk,” You added, patting the empty space beside you. Hyunjin sat down immediately as he took your hand, kissing it before he placed it on his cheek to feel your warmth.

“Is this about us?” He asked.

“Do we still need to slow down?” You asked him as he smiled gently, placing a soft kiss on your lips.

“No,” He said. “You’re officially mine now,”

“Can I say it?” You asked him as your foreheads rested against each other, Hyunjin was confused.

“What is it?” He asked, tilting his head to the side like a curious puppy but you think he’s more of a weasel. It took you a few seconds before answering as you made sure that the eye contact was still there with your hands placed on his cheeks. He was waiting.

“I love you,” But instead of answering, Hyunjin pulled you to sit on his lap, crashing his lips onto yours—bodies pressed together as you hugged him around his neck with his arms around your waist.

“I love you more,” He answered it between, breathing heavily as your lips collided against each other.

Your heart’s racing again and so does he.

It’s one heck of the night after all but, he is the best part of it.

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