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talkbykhalid · 2 years

Text

to: jung wooyoung

༘ ✎ ◃ to: s.mg | announcement ▹ [ navi ]

༘ ✎ member: jung wooyoung

༘ ✎ words: 35k+

༘ ✎ warnings: humour (or at least an attempt at it), fluff, angst, special appearances from yeonjun and changbin, there’s a lot of bickering here, condoms, condom discourse, talks about dicks and cum, mentions sex twice, as well sa STIs (no mature scenes though), blood, medical inacuracies, mention of menstruation, a bunch of old movie references, hsm, food, rich kid wooyo, sansang are like twiddle dee and twiddle dum, there are some text parts in here, mentions of death (once, very brief), talks of cheating, gaslighting, manipulation, reader gets slapped once, kissing (borderline making out?)

༘ ✎ quick note: this has thirty five kaye words and im serious. it’s not proofread at all, if u think im proofreading 35 THOUSAND words and ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTY FOUR PAGES all by myself you’re wrong. good luck with this, tho! also i suggest reading this on safari or smth, i dont want to crash your phones bc this is one monster of a fic :D

To: Jung Wooyoung

Hey Woo, remember when we first met? I was a part of the majority who thought you were a bad boy too.

You hated being stared at, even more being laughed at. So when you hear hushed giggles coming from behind you, you feel your cheeks tinge pink and blood runs hot in your veins.

Whipping your head around, you make eye contact with a dark haired boy (no way were you calling that immature brat a man), hiding his smile behind a fist. He clutches the bicep of another male standing next to him, who is also somewhat laughing at you.

Picking up the posters that you dropped as you were rushing to the library, you grumble and scowl, embarrassed. The inflated condom drawing was set smack dab in the middle of each poster, staring up at you and the three guys who just so happened to be standing by the pillars. You don’t know why in the world they were just lounging around in the hallways but that’s the least of your worries.

“Y/n?”

You hear Yeosang and San call out, sticking their heads out to peek around the corner. And with hurried steps, they come to your rescue; helping you pick up the fallen flyers.

“Ignore them, y/n.” Yeosang starts when you reach the library, straightening the pile of papers against the table.

“Yeah.” San follows from behind you, carrying two rims of bond paper to the printer.

“Wooyoung and his friends have always been assholes.”

You huff and roll your eyes, maybe you were just too quick to assume; they obviously weren’t laughing at you, rather at the stupid condom mascot illustration on the poster.

“They were just laughing at these dumb posters. Don’t worry guys.”

Who even came up with these designs anyway? And the slogan was even worse!

“‘Don’t be silly; Wrap your willy!” Yeosang reads off the flyer a certain look of distaste on his face.

“How did the principal even approve of that?” You chuckle softly, eyes focused on the work in front of you, stacking, piling, and counting. Honestly, you really can’t blame those three for laughing, you’re sure you would too if you were in their position.

A comfortable silence fell between the three of you, the sound of papers rustling and the printer beeping is far beyond your consciousness.

“Say,” San interrupts the silence.

“Now that midterms are over, do you guys wanna go hang out?”

Yeosang tilts his head and ponders, “I don’t know if I’m free…”

A sheet of crumpled paper is tossed at the brunet’s forehead and bounces off onto the table. Your best friend whips his head at San with a scowl.

“What the fuck was that for?”

“You’re such a party pooper.” Came your chuckle from behind the two men.

Your eyes glued onto the shiny pink rubber mascot printed on the papers, your fingers busy with dividing the stack into smaller piles of ten.

“I’m free later, we could stay at my house.”

“Well if you’re free, then so am I.” Yeosang enthusiastically chimes, making the other male roll his eyes and huffing out something that resembles ‘whatever’.

“Let’s stop by Nyu mart on our way back later, Haneul asked me to get her more pads.” San stands up from filling up the printer and stretches his back, a loud grunt escaping his lips when he hears a bone pop.

You look up at him, watching as his now– shorter– black hair falls over his forehead. A great contrast from several months ago when his hair was still a near platinum blonde. That was around the last time you ever talked to Mingi. Ever since that stunt Lei pulled, you and Mingi have never been the same.

Ah, Lei. You felt so betrayed, it hurt more than anything you’ve ever felt. Imagine having your trust broken by your own sister. After you spent all of your life praising her as if she was a saint. Waste of time, you thought to yourself. All those years and it ended up with you doubting yourself and your insecurities swallowing you whole. Honestly, if it wasn’t for Yeosang you would’ve never reached out and asked for “closure”.

Your eyes turn to Yeosang, and you watch his dark hair fall over his eyes; you told him several times in the past week that he needed a haircut but he never paid attention! Instead he’d reason out that he wanted to grow a mullet or something of the sort. The Yeosang that stood in front of you now looked so different from many months prior. It’s honestly baffling how much one could change through the course of– what, four - five months?

Your Yeosang had pretty brown hair that swooped right below his sharp eyebrows, it made him look like a coconut. And you remember that detail because of the several afternoons he spent lying by your side on your window seat, helping you grow from the damage Lei had caused you. Those days, Yeosang would let you run your fingers through his soft tresses as a form of stress relief while talking to him as if he was your therapist.

You sigh and smile softly as you watch the two bickering boys in front of you argue about what condom colour was better.

“Yellow is so basic!” You heard Yeosang whisper-shout at San– you’re glad they’re both aware that you’re still in the library–, who then rebuts.

“You only say that because it’s the classic and it’s popular! Also if you stretch it enough it becomes transparent and you can see your skin through it!”

Your face turns sour at his words and you crumple a small sheet of paper beside you to throw it at the short haired male. It hits his shoulder and he only lets out the tiniest grunt before continuing to defend his claim.

“Unlike your stupid red. It makes your dick look like a party balloon!”

You gasp in shock at his sudden attack and brace yourself on the table, trying to hold back a laugh. Struggling when you see Yeosang’s face scrunch into one of shock, as if he was the one being insulted.

“Yeah but red makes my cum look pink! And your stupid yellow makes it look like you have a yeast infection!”

That’s what makes you fall onto your knees, nearly sobbing at how hard you were laughing. Your shoulders were shaking so hard and your sides began to hurt. The two boys turn to look at you in unison and Yeosang smirks in triumph. Claiming his victory based on your reaction.

“Enough… please!” You manage to say through your fits of laughter. Your hands scramble to hold onto the table in front of you and you try to bring yourself up on your feet. “I can’t with you both.”

When your trio of idiots finally manage to finish the task of arranging and assigning the safe sex posters, you decide to leave. Walking down the cobblestone path towards the campus gates, you observe how the warm sunlight kisses your skin and the cool breeze makes your hair flutter along with it. Your two stooges stood by either side of you (Yeosang at your right and San on the other) and your feet pad along the pathway in sync. Oh what a peaceful scene. Or it should have been peaceful.

“Who even cares about scented condoms?!” Yeosang yells into the otherwise quiet space. And you sigh and slump your shoulders, so much for peace.

As you three were walking back, someone (read: san) just had to bring up condoms once again. This time the two were arguing about which was better; strawberry scented condoms or menthol sensation condoms. San was battling for the berries while Yeosang chose the latter. You, on the other hand, picked none because those were all stupid innovations.

“It’s not like anyone will walk up to you, push their nose into your dick and go ‘mmm golly gee your dick smells like strawberries let me eat it!’”

You almost cry at his tone. Did he have to use such vulgar words? Well, that’s Potty-Mouth-Yeosang for you.

“Strawberries are literally aphrodisiacs! Having strawberry scents on you makes you sexier to your partner!” San answers with equal vigour and it makes you regret standing in between them both.

“Strawberries are not aphrodisiacs!” You try to pitch in amidst their battle. Yet all they do is ignore you as Yeosang responds.

“Mint condoms make you feel fresh! And it not only benefits you but whoever you’re fucking as well!”

“Oh my god, Yeosang!”

You rub your face with your palms, slowly getting tired of the two bumbling idiots beside you. Even more when San nearly knocks you over when he flails his muscular arms up to prove a point. As you near the entrance, your eyes flit to the benches under one of the campus’ “treedoms” or whatever batshit title they give their trees, and spot another trio snickering away.

You make eye contact with one of them, and you recognize him to be Wooyoung. The same guy who laughed at you in the hallway. Okay, he didn’t exactly laugh at you, rather the condom poster, but still!

You wander your gaze down to his all black ensemble. A leather jacket (typical) over a black graphic shirt that he tucked into black skinny jeans. His entourage matches his get up too. The one in the middle– who you think was named Yeonjun– wore a black button up and the same skinny jean pair but his bright pink hair was a stark contrast to his entire outfit. Blackpink! Hehe. The guy on the other side of Yeonjun (was his name Changbin?) had on a hoodie and a black denim jacket over it. Honestly, if it wasn't for the white detailing on his jacket, you wouldn’t have even seen it.

Your eyes catch the way they hunch over and whisper things to each other while looking at your trio of cretins, before laughing amongst themselves. Gross. Stupid “bad boys” and their overwhelming need to be dominating the social heirarchy. You never really understood why they portrayed themselves to be so cold and out of touch with everyone else. You also cannot, for the life of you, decipher why in the hell were they wearing thick black layers in this heat.

“You’re only siding for the berry scent because your dick smells like piss!” Yeosang’s bold claim snaps your attention back onto them and your jaw drops.

“You take that back!” San cries after an offended gasp and he lunges at your best friend right when you make it past the gates. You throw your head back in a laugh and catch Wooyoung looking at you again with a smirk on his lips.

“Mama! I’m home!” You call out to your grandma when you walk into your house. “I brought two idiots with me!”

The three of you busy yourselves with shoving your shoes off and arranging them neatly by the door. You hear the sizzling of meat and stew boiling from the kitchen and a delightful aroma wafts throughout the entire household. You hear your grandma grumble about having to cook two more portions because her unofficial grandkids were home too.

“Hi granny!” The men beside you greet when your grandma peeks her head out from the kitchen.

“Don’t ‘hi granny’ me! One of you left your boxers under the couch last night!” the old woman grouches at the two before heading back to the stove to flip the thinly sliced beef she was frying and grumbling, “Had to pick it up with tongs, you boys are nasty.”

Yeosang leans over to whisper into San’s ear, “That’s because your dick smells like piss.” Who, in return, smacks his shoulder. You roll your eyes at the two and lead the way up to your room.

Climbing up the stairs, you cross paths with your sister and you stumble back a little. Your eyes catch hers for a fleeting moment before her hazel irises flit across to look at San. You feel your gut wrench, feeling slightly sick at the action, yet you don’t mention it. Instead you let an awkward silence fall over the four of you.

San, who stands right behind you, pays no mind to the newest addition to the scene, even with her eyes begging for his attention. Rather, he keeps his eyes staring forward at the back of your head, observing the way your freshly bleached highlights curve when tucked behind your ears and tangle into the lock of one of your stud earrings.

Your best friend stood at the very end of the steps, looking up at the exchange with hard eyes and his alert levels up. Yeosang observes Lei’s stance, her hands were nervously fidgeting with the hem of the muted green argyle sweater vest that hung off her frame– actually, now that he’s noticed it, he believes the knitted apparel was yours. And he knows that the fidgeting was not out of guilt or shame of whatever she had done to you, rather, it was aimed at San. And Yeosang can tell that your sister’s slowly getting upset at how the short haired man refused to look at her.

“Hi Lei.” Your soft voice cuts through the tension and all three pairs of eyes snap up to you.

Lei only nods, having been broken out of her desperate trance by your voice, and jogs the rest of the way down. If Lei noticed Yeosang’s stare, she doesn’t make it obvious as she strides right past him and down towards the front door. You all hear her voice call out to your grandma, letting the woman know that she’s going out with her friends and might not be home for dinner.

When the polished wood clicks shut, you heave out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. San drops his gaze down and sighs, it felt so suffocating and like he was being held by the neck by Lei’s intense staring. And Yeosang drops his guard once again now that the wicked witch of the west (a term he oh so endearingly refers to your sister as) is now gone.

“Are you sure you’re okay with Lei?” Came Yeosang’s question the moment you three enter your bedroom.

You had a talk with Lei about three weeks ago. Supposedly, you had forgiven her, and her you (even though you’re sure you did nothing wrong). And you were really trying your best to put everything behind and move on. But with how your sister was acting, it just seems like there’s still so much issues to deal with. She claims to have ‘forgiven’ you but then she goes around ignoring your presence and scowling at you behind your back and it’s leaving you confused and hurt. You’re truly trying to fix things for her, because, face it, no matter what shit Lei pulls, she’s still your sister and you’d still have to deal with her. But you’re not even sure if she’s trying to mend your relationship.

You throw yourself on the bed, face stuck in between two decorative pillows and sigh. You can hear rustling from behind you and your desk chair being rolled beside you. The bed dips when one of the two males drops at your side and you twist your neck to see their formation. Yeosang sat on your bed with his knees by your face while San had pulled your chair by your nightstand and made himself comfortable by sitting with his legs crossed. Both looking at you with concerned eyes.

“To be fucking honest with you,” you sigh and flip your body over. “No, not really… But I guess we’ll just have to see where this will take me.”

Another pregnant pause settles in between you three before you sit up with a frustrated grunt.

“No, ‘cause, like, the way she talked to me weeks ago was just so off putting!”

Your company moves to sit by your side when you shuffle to lean on your headboard.

“And like, I don’t know if I should trust her. I’m not even a hundred percent sure that I want to trust her, for fucks sake! She really fucked me over, and I spent literal months, months, doubting myself and nitpicking every single piece of me because of her. And now I’m here trying to act like I did with her before because we had a quote/unquote talk that’s questionable at best!”

Amidst your rant, San had placed a hand on your head while Yeosang wrapped his arms around your torso and snuggled up to you for comfort.

“She didn’t even look at me earlier! Her eyes were on you the entire time, San. It’s like she’s only trying to mend our relationship just to get back with you.” You end with a huff but it gets cut off by a soft gasp when you turn to San.

“Wait, I’m so sorry.”

San just smiles and shakes his head to dismiss your worries. While Lei had hurt you a lot, San was still a victim of Lei’s actions. He was still as hurt and confused as you– though he would argue that it was less. She had trampled his heart and his trust several months ago. And you thought that bringing them into a rant together would just rip open the wound he spent months on healing.

“It’s fine, y/n. We’re on the same page actually.” The short haired man sighs. “Did you know she tried to talk to me two weeks ago?”

Yeosang widens his eyes and shakes his head. “You did not tell us that before! What the hell, San. What happened to bros before hoes?!”

You snap your head at your best friend to jokingly give him a distasteful look. Your hand comes up to smack at his arm before bringing your attention back to San.

“Yeah, apparently she stopped by my house one day, but I was out with you.” The man on your right leans his face towards Yeosang, making the point that the ‘bros before hoes’ rule still stands.

“Haneul said she was looking for me and wouldn’t leave until she found out where I was. Luckily, she told Lei that was at the skatepark. God bless Haneul for that.”

The three of you giggle in unison, the mere idea of San willingly hanging at the skatepark was laughable. Because, first of all, San did not like skateboarding. One time, Yeosang had insisted on taking you both skating and you ended up with scraped elbows and a promise to never stand on those hell-raised boards ever again. San, on the other hand, had it worse.

While you had managed to at least roll a short distance before losing balance, the man couldn’t even stand on the wooden plank before falling over. Not only that but while he was attempting to hop on Yeosang’s My Little Pony board (one that you got him for his last birthday), he had one foot on the top before he wobbled and pushed the thing away. His legs opened into a forward split, and even if San was as flexible as an olympian gymnast, his pants definitely weren't.

Everyone in the park could make out the telltale riiip of the seam of his jeans busting open. San sat there in a split for half a moment, the air between his legs suddenly a lot cooler than it was a minute ago. And just like that, San swore to his late grandpa that he would never go near a skatepark ever again as he walked home by your side with his sweatshirt tied around his hips to cover the gap in the back of his jeans. His muscular arms were crossed over his chest in an attempt to cover his naked upper half as well as keep his nipples warm from the cool spring breeze.

“Dinner’s ready.” Your grandmother knocks at your door and snaps you out of your thoughts.

“Race you to the dining room.” San quickly mutters while dashing out the room.

“Hey! Not fair! You’re closest to the door!!” Yeosang follows behind him, all the while jumping over your legs sprawled out on the bed.

You bounce on the mattress as an effect of Yeosang’s reckless actions before huffing and yelling out to them.

“You guys are literally almost twenty!”

But, you weren’t. In fact, you are, by far, the kindest,

It was honestly such a beautiful day, the sun was out and the sky was a beautiful serene blue. Each cloud that passed by you was of a different volume and form and resembled something familiar while also not looking like anything you’ve seen before in your life. You could faintly hear birds chirping above you from where you lay on the grass. You’d surely be enjoying this time if only you weren’t bleeding out of your nose.

You were just minding your own business, walking back home after class. San was busy with extracurricular activities while Yeosang was out skating with his buddies, which left you alone and in peace. When suddenly, a stray soccer ball appeared in your line of sight and hit you right in the face. Of course, you fell over, because you were a tad bit dramatic, but aside from that, the leather ball hit you hard! Whoever kicked it your way did not skip leg day at all.

So now you laid on the ground, head pounding and ears ringing, it’s as if the world around you was spinning and nothing was coherent in your vision. You think you hear a few people coming over to you, but you weren’t quite sure. You’re only aware of how your nose was fucking hurting right now, you think it may even be broken!

The crunching of grass ends when you see someone peer over at you through your peripherals, yet their silhouette is blurry and spinning and you can’t make out exactly who it was. The sun was shining right behind their head, making them look all shadowy and ominous. You furrow your brows and blink your eyes rapidly, trying to make your spinning vision steady so you can identify whoever the fuck this person is.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry!” You hear someone else call out to your lying form. Another figure looms over you across the first one and they look the same, dark, shadowy and almost eerie.

“Okay, whatever. Can one of you help me up?”

The two faceless silhouettes grab each of your arms and they help you up on your feet. You stumble a little bit, having issues with finding your balance, before leaning on one of their shoulders. You’re so glad the sun is out of your eyes right now, you honestly thought if you stayed on the ground for a second longer your corneas would have been burned through.

You turn to the second person to approach you and bring your eyes onto his fluffy mass of brown hair. He looks at you with worry etched onto his doe-like eyes and a frown adorns his plush lips. You watch his cute rounded nose scrunch up in regret and he apologizes once more.

“I’m so sorry about that, I was just playing with my cousin and I accidentally kicked it too hard. I’m so so sorry!”

You accept his apology with a small huff, your vision slowly circling back to normal, thankfully, and you lower your gaze onto his uniform. The dark blazer and the red necktie tells you that this boy was still in highschool, the one at the other side of this town. So what exactly was he doing here?

“Aren’t you in high school?” You watch as he nods slowly before continuing, “What are you doing here on a college campus?”

“My cousin goes here, Choi Yeonjun. He’s who I’m playing with.”

And as if on cue, you hear another pair of steps crunching at the grass and coming towards you. Yeonjun walks into your line of sight and you look away from the sunlight bouncing off his bright pink hair.

“We’re really sorry about that, y/n.” He starts once he’s standing beside his cousin, the knowledge of him knowing your name flying over your head. “Jongho here doesn’t know his own strength sometimes.”

You turn to look at this Jongho kid who just stands apologetically, the soccer ball heavy in his hands. You can practically feel the ‘sorry’s coming off of him in waves and you just roll your eyes with a smile.

“It was an accident.” Your voice was stuffy and nasal while you told the poor boy that he’s forgiven. He sighs in relief but shame is still evident in his features, even when his cousin pulls him away because his parents asked for him to walk the younger kid home, he still stares at you with sad apologetic eyes.

You shake your head at the younger and lean back towards the body holding you up. But you snap your head towards their direction to identify whoever it was, because you admittedly forgot about them. It wasn’t your fault! You got hit in the head and distracted by the high school kid that you couldn’t even check who helped you up.

“Hey.” Wooyoung looks down at you with a smirk.

A blush erupts on your cheeks when you notice the close proximity. Your eyes quickly scan his face, from his smooth gold tinted skin to the dark smoked out eyeliner on his lower lash line and the beauty mark right under his left eye. You study the chiselled angle of his jaw and the plumpness of his lips, eyes lingering on a particular dot on the lower counterpart. His nose was tall and hooked and accentuated the sharpness of his face very well. He had rather small eyes but that didn’t mask his charm at all. Overall, this man in front of you was rather handsome.

“Oh uhm.” Damn you for being so flustered in front of attractive men! “Thanks for helping me up, I guess.”

You shift to pull out of his hold, being in his personal space made you shy for some reason and you would most likely faint if you stayed in his arms for a second longer. But your head started spinning before you could even let go of his arm and the male just laughed at you.

“C’mon let’s get you to the clinic.” His voice was calm and light, as opposed to your raging mind full of curses about his stupidly handsome face.

“I’ll be fine, I’m going home anyway.”

“Your nose is literally bleeding.”

“What?!” Your hands fly up to your nostrils and you feel a warm sticky substance dripping out onto your skin. You spot a dab of blood now coating your fingertips and you almost faint.

“My nose!”

Wooyoung rolls his eyes before carefully guiding you towards the clinic, his mind going to make a connection between you and that one blonde twin from that old show Bratz after you whined about your nose. He listens to you whine and sob pitifully and hides a look of amusement from your obvious miserable one.

He had one arm around your waist while the other digs around his pocket for a handkerchief that he later hands to you. And you take it reluctantly, taking note of the pristine white cotton that it’s made of before dabbing it against your bleeding nose, wincing when you see the deep blood stain through it. This was going to be a bitch to wash off.

“Oh dear, what happened to you?” The young nurse comes to your aid the minute you step into her air conditioned office.

She sets you on her little counter/table thing, you’re not sure what they’re called, and lean back onto the cushioned backrest. You sigh while she cleans up the blood and listen as Wooyoung retells the events to her.

Looking at Wooyoung, who stood by the end of the bed and directly in front of the ac unit, you watch his hair slowly swing in front of his eyes from the flowing wind of the air conditioning. His hair is such a deep shade of black and it's long enough to cover his eyes, if it wasn’t parted down the middle. The rest of his hair is held at the back of his head in a tiny pony tail and it exposes his ears that are littered with various silver studs and hoops and the skin of his neck that dons a faint silver chain.

The man is once again dressed in all black; a band (one that you haven’t even heard of) shirt with the sleeves snipped off, black baggy jeans that accentuates the dip of his waist and all black rubber shoes. To add contrast to the outfit, he put on many pieces of silver, from his earrings and his necklace to the array of rings on every other finger and the dangling chains on his wrists, as well as the chain he hooked onto his belt loops.

Not gonna lie, Wooyoung dressed like every fourteen year old’s bad boy wet dream. The hair, the fit, the makeup, he was ready to jump into some wattpad bad boy fanfiction.

“Well, miss y/n, fortunately the ball didn’t break your nose. The impact just hit a vein and caused it to bleed out. It’s nothing big, don’t worry. You’ll be fine in thirty minutes tops.” She places an ice bag over the slope of your nose and you hiss at the cold.

“Well, y/n.” Wooyoung chimes from the other side of the room. “I’m sorry, but I have to get going. See you tomorrow.” Before walking out without waiting for a response.

You try to call for him when you notice the bloodied handkerchief still clutched in your hand. Damn it, now you were gonna have to wash the thing and hunt through the entire campus to return it. Also what the fuck does he mean by ‘see you tomorrow’?

“I suggest you call a friend over to bring you home later.” The nurse speaks when Wooyoung slides her doors shut.

When you give her a slight nod, she goes to scuttle around the room, putting away the medicine in their respective cupboards and tossing the bloody cotton pads into the bin. Your hands pat around you to grab your phone and shoot your group chat of four a text.

kingpin: someone pls pick me up from the clinic

kingpin: cough cough

kingpin: im dying x__x

Yeosang’s the first to reply, followed by San and then the ever panicky Seonghwa.

1/3 stooges : rip, but sorry im busy fucking up the skatepark

1/3 stooges: ill write you a eulogy tho <3

2/3 stooges: i’ll stop by after club activities end

3/3 stooges: ????? WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU??????

You roll your eyes at the last text and type back that you’ll tell him if he ever stops by your place later.

“Your boyfriend’s pretty sweet, huh.” The nurse suddenly speaks from right beside you.

Your shoulders jolt and your phone nearly slips from your grasp before furiously shaking your head at her words but stop when an ache blooms in your head.

“He’s not– We’re not! Like he’s far from being my boyfriend. Friend even!”

The woman gives you an unconvinced look before gossiping, “Wooyoung’s always in and out of the clinic, you know. Always has bloody scratches and bruises, he never tells me where they’re from so I just assume they’re from fights. But, this is the first time he’s brought someone into the clinic. Usually he doesn’t really care about other people getting hurt.”

“He only did it because it was kind of his fault…?” You try to reason but your voice comes out unsure as a reflection to your now confused thoughts.

Why did Wooyoung take you to the clinic? Why did he even approach you in the first place? Wasn’t it Jongho who hit you? And isn’t Jongho Yeonjun’s cousin? So you could understand if either Yeonjun or Jongho– actually scratch that, Jongho doesn’t even know where the clinic is. You would totally understand if Yeonjun was the one who took you to the clinic. But Wooyoung? Where does he even fit in all of this? Why was he suddenly everywhere?

“If you say so.” The young nurse in front of you dismissively muses but you don’t miss the mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Kingpin!”

San barges into the nurse’s office with arms wide open and a grin on his face about thirty-five minutes after your text, his voice booming and echoing across the walls. The nurse drops the files she had in her hands at the sudden intrusion and glares at the male. You turn to him and respond with an equally enthusiastic (but not as loud) “Pissy pants!” Which then makes San’s face scrunch up, not liking the new nickname you gave him.

“I’m leaving you here.”

“Wait!”

“That’s what happened.” You finish your story and lean back on the couch behind you.

Currently, you were sitting on your living room floor, the coffee table pushed away to make room for the three rather large males gathered around you. When San brought you home, you saw Seonghwa patiently staring out from his window. Upon spotting you two, the older male hurriedly ran out to join you. And as you three turned to walk through your gate, the sound of plastic wheels rolling on concrete sounded through the air, followed by Yeosang’s husky voice yelling at you three to wait for him.

The three of them huddled over you when you sat on the floor with your legs crossed, bombarding you with questions about what happened and why were you brought to the clinic? As well as “Where’d you get that handkerchief?” from Yeosang and “Why is it covered in blood?!” from Seonghwa. You begrudgingly told them everything, from the beginning where you got balled in the face up to the little gossip the nurse shared with you.

Amidst your little storytime, your grandma walks into the living area to find your four forms seated on the floor and she sighs. She’s gonna have to cook more portions again! And even worse, these were growing men in her house, they could eat up to like five servings per meal!

“No fucking way?!” San exclaims from your left. “Wooyoung?? The Jung Wooyoung?”

“You’re shitting me.” Yeosang sits at your right, astonished at this information.

“I wish I was!” You respond, fiddling with the end of your burgundy belt.

The two start to bicker against each other again about Wooyoung while Seonghwa sits in between them both and in front of you, confused. His eyes switch back and forth to either males whenever they speak.

“Who’s Wooyoung?” The older one finally asks.

“You don’t know?!”

The two turn to him and ask incredulously, every motion in sync with each other.

“He’s always the talk of the university.” Yeosang starts. “He’s literally every girl’s–”

“Or guy’s! Gotta be inclusive.” San chimes in.

“ –fantasy. The ultimate dream boat!” Yeosang mocks the gossip he hears from the groups of girls he passes by the hallways.

“How was I supposed to know? I moved here just last semester.” The oldest male grumbles and reaches down to poke at his sock clad toes, legs bent at his chest and ankles locked in front of him since he can’t sit cross legged.

“Everybody loves him because he’s such a bad boy.” San follows Yeosang’s mocking tone and grunts.

“They’re only calling him that because he wears all black and he has a shit ton of piercings. And, like the nurse said, he’s always covered in some type of bruise or scratch. But no one has ever seen him in a fight before. Don’t you think it’s rather weird how people immediately say that he got those from fighting? I don’t buy it.” The short haired male ends with a huff and the atmosphere falls silent.

“Your jealousy is showing.” You giggle after his mini rant, which earns you a smack on the shoulder and a pouty ‘am not!’ from the said man.

“Maybe he likes being beaten during sex–”

“Yeosang!”

“Just a thought!”

When the sky grew a dark blue hue and the moon rose above the tops of the buildings, your three idiot friends bid their farewells after dinner and left. Your sister was given dish duty tonight since she was the last one to finish eating due to her not being present during dinner time. So now you have time to stand by your sink and viciously scrub away at the blood soaked through the white handkerchief.

The skin of your fingers were slowly turning red and becoming sore from the constant rubbing and rinsing, but you’re hellbent on getting the stain out. So focused that you don’t notice your bedroom door slowly creaking open and a head of red hair peeking into your room. Your sister pads along the carpet floors towards your opened bathroom and the knock on your door frame is what catches your attention.

“Hey…What are you up to?”

You keep your head low and down at the soaked fabric, only sparing your sister a glance before responding.

“Just washing some stuff…”

She tries to peek over your shoulder and see what you were so busy with, but every time her toes point and neck stretches higher, your shoulders shift to block her view. After what happened with Mingi, you’re not exactly sure you want to introduce Lei to another man. Sure it was just a handkerchief, but Lei was painfully nosy. You know she’d pry and pry until she’s got her grubby little hands on your secret. She’d dig her nose into ‘why is the hankie bloody?’ or ‘who gave you that hankie?’ and having that conversation was not on your list for the evening.

It’s when she finally thuds back to the balls of her feet and sighs do you relax your shoulders at her sign of surrender.

“Listen, I’m really trying to go back to normal, y/n.” She mutters, her voice soft and defeated. It makes you scoff. How dare she act like you’re the bad guy in this narrative?

“I want us to be normal again.”

Her words are just white noise in your ears. You’re really not in the mood to start another explosive argument with your sister, instead you just want this tiny little splotch of red soaked into the kerchief corner to disappear.

You tried everything! Brushing, scrubbing, detergent, even bleach! But the wretched blood stain didn’t seem like it was going anywhere soon. To think you’d learn your lesson about this after several years of waking up in the morning with a bloody puddle underneath you. Dried blood was always a bitch to get rid of, especially on white fabric!

Did Wooyoung really have to hand you a white hankie? Or did he just want to spite you.

“But nothing will progress if you keep being so secretive and unwilling to trust me again!” Came your sister’s incredulous claim from the doorway.

Clenching your jaw, you hold yourself back from calling her bullshit. Because now that you know Lei, the real Lei, you know that one way or another she’s gonna figure out how to twist your words and make you the villain. Make it seem like she was the one suffering and in pain. She’s done it before so why would she let up now?

“So please, even if it’s not for my sake but anyone else’s… try with me.”

You want to argue, so so bad, but you’re tired. You spent your day in the beating sun and getting balled in the face by a high schooler after a whole day of classes. Now you’re here scrubbing at a stupid piece of fabric from some stupid Wade Walker wannabe (which by the way, the little drop of blood on the corner was still there?!). So you just sigh and drop your hands into the pool of water in your sink. Your eyes watch the bubbly and slightly murky water ripple around your wrists and bounce back against the white ceramic. You just want to sleep.

“Okay, fine. I’ll try.”

You were exhausted, your back was aching and your fingers stung from the detergent seeping into the ripped skin of your cuticles. Lei lets out a mini cheer and you clutch the handkerchief tighter in your palms at her glee.

“Promise, okay? G’night sis.” She leaves without waiting for a response, her sing-song voice trailing behind her as she hums to some new song by a girl group she liked.

You remember seeing her put up a poster of four girls onto her walls a few weeks after your argument. She was happily singing along to a bright happy song when you walked by her opened door. Her movements were cheery as she patted down the corners of the ‘chocome’ poster. You remember being so pissed that she was so happy go lucky while you were left wallowing in self doubt and hurt. That day you began to come into terms that Lei did not give a shit about you, at all.

A heavy sigh escapes your lips and you throw your head back in defeat. Leaning your forearms onto the sink, you stare ahead into your reflection from your pretty bear shaped mirror (side note: you love this mirror, you thrifted it off a local thrift shop in Cancun a few summers ago and spent about a week sculpting bear ears out of clay and painting it to look like a cute polar bear).

You think back to the past couple of months, the same months where Lei wasn’t a common occurrence in your days and you weren’t preoccupied with your feelings for some guy in college, and smile. Those days definitely were not the best, but thinking about it, you grew so much from your old self and looking at yourself now made you slightly happier than before.

Dropping your head down, you stare at the handkerchief submerged in the water and think: ‘fuck it’ before draining the water. There were still a couple more splotches of blood that stained the cloth, but honestly, you don’t think you have enough elbow grease for that. Your muscles were sore! You just really really wanted to rest now.

It was around three thirty in the afternoon when you started your journey along the campus hallways in search of a certain mop of dark hair and the jingle of silver chains clinging against one another. But now it was nearing five and you’ve scoured through all the hallways in all the buildings yet you’re still not in the presence of Wooyoung.

A ping sounds from your phone and you see a text notification from your best friend.

he was a boy: san’s mum invited me n hwa for dinner at their place later at 6

he was a boy: they also invited u but like,,,

he was a boy: u have priorities apparently //:

he was a boy: u want me tell them u’ll pass?? or do u want to rush over here for dindins???

Your face scrunches at his use of the word ‘dindins’, you don’t know why, it just makes your skin crawl.

she was a girl: okay first of all…

she was a girl: DONT EVER say dindins again

he was a boy: dindins

she was a girl: im gonna ignore that

she was a girl: anw tell them ill stop by some other day, there’s this bitch thats making me run across campus just to find him x__x

A ‘haha’ bubble appears at the upper right corner of your recently sent message and you roll your eyes at Yeosang’s antics. Shaking your head to switch your focus back to the task at hand, you shove your phone into the pocket of your puffer jacket and stomp back into the main building of your campus. Where the fuck could that son of a bitch be?

Your loafers tap against the tiled floors of the steps as you climb up a flight of stairs. And another… and another and then some. Now, you’re hunched over yourself in front of the rooftop entrance, or rather exit? Your hands planted on your knees for stability and your breath rugged.

Damn college and five floored buildings.

You stand up straight to push against the metal door and a squeaky creak rings throughout the area. The sky is a pretty muted blue and you spot a few clouds floating across the horizon as the moon glows daintily in the dusk above your head. The air is cold when it brushes across your legs, nipping at your bare skin. The material of your skirt softly flutters in the breeze.

“I was wondering how much longer you were gonna make me wait.”

You yelp and curse when a voice suddenly sounds from beside you. Looking down, you see Wooyoung seated on the ground with his legs spread outwards and his back leaning on the wall.

“What the fuck?”

All he does in return is laugh at your reaction, not even sparing you a glance.

“What do you mean? I spent the last hour and a half circling the entire campus for you! I had no idea where you were!”

At this he tilts his head up at you with a confused face. You watch his lips form a small pout and his eyebrows pinch together; in a different scenario you would have thought he was cute. But right now, he was anything but cute because you literally just had five months worth of gym membership exercise in search of him.

“Didn’t you read the note?”

“What note??”

“The one that said ‘rooftop’! I slipped it into your phone case yesterday!”

Your hands make quick movement to retrieve your phone, fumbling with the pocket zipper before finally grasping it. And sure enough, there it was. A little scrap of paper with ‘rooftop!’ scribbled on it in red ink (that looked eerily similar to the pen ink the nurse had to log you in) and a small (:3 ) doodled right below it pressed inside your silicone casing. You flip it over and see the corners of your university logo and a red cross logo and it’s the same print you saw on the heading of the nurse’s papers, a scoff escaping your lips.

“You could have told me!”

“Where’s the fun in that!” He retorts, arms crossed and lips pouted even more. He looked like a kid throwing a tantrum. Oh my god, he was worse than you!

“Well I’m sorry for not checking in my phone case every single hour of the day! Also, couldn’t you have chosen somewhere that isn’t five storeys above the ground!”

“The view’s pretty!”

“Yeah, well your pretty view just cost me an arm and a leg! Both my legs, even! Do you know how tiring it is going up five flights of stairs?!”

“You should have taken the elevator!”

“There is no elevator!!”

“Yes there is! It’s in the teacher’s lounge! End of every hallway and beside the janitor’s closet!”

“Well I’m sorry for not knowing the school blueprint, geez!”

And it suddenly falls silent. Wooyoung looks up at you with entertained eyes as you huff and stare off into the horizon, a pretty frown on your face.

He likes you, you were fun and feisty. As well as very easy to talk to. Your first proper conversation was yesterday and the first time you two made eye contact was two days ago, yet here you are arguing like some sort of married couple. It made him smile.

A couple moments pass between you while the sky continues to grow darker, and the temperature steadily drops. The wind picking up from the hem of your skirt reminds you of this information and you realize that you aren’t exactly dressed for evening temperature. At least your lower half isn’t, considering your plaid blue pleated skirt and sheer black socks.

“Whatever, here.” You toss the handkerchief his way after digging around for it in one of your pockets, making sure it landed on his lap and not the dusty concrete. “I couldn’t get all the blood off, by the way. Sorry. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

Before you could even turn and walk through the door, a large hand grasps your wrist and almost pulls you down. With a scoff, you turn to Wooyoung who now stands in front of you after using your arm as leverage with a wide grin.

“Okay let’s go!” He pulls you through the door and down the stairs, the door clanging shut behind the two of you a couple moments later. A yelped out ‘wait’ sounds from your parted lips but Wooyoung pays it no mind as he jumps down two stairs per step while you struggle to catch up. When he jumps over the last step, he makes a turn towards a dimly lit hallway with you still in tow.

It looked creepy, the lightbulb screwed onto the hanging light was nearing its end judging by the weak glow and the constant flickering it does. It doesn’t help that the sun had fully set by now and the sky was a darker, cooler blue than when you first burst out onto the rooftop.

“Are you gonna kill me?!” came your shrieked question that echoed through the hallways.

“No, dumbass!” Wooyoung laughs and you swear you could hear a professor yell out his name form one of the classrooms you ran by.

He makes one last turn into a dead end and you see metal doors staring right back at you.

“Told you we had elevators.”

This was definitely news to you. You’d never been to this part of the hallways before, the atmosphere really irked you. But now you kinda regret it because, damn, who knew? And you spent the last year wasting your life on useless stairs when this piece of technology was right here!

You watch as Wooyoung steps forward before pressing a code onto a number pad on the wall and the doors then open. You give him a confused look as you two step into the metal encasement.

“Saw a teacher type in the code once while I was hiding in the janitor’s closet.”

You had half a mind to ask him his business in the closet but back track when you realize that it could be anything. Hell, he could be hiding a body in the closet or soaking it in acid in there.

Or maybe you just read too much true crime… Whatever it was, you’d rather not ask and instead roam your eyes around the elevator.

The walls were a beautiful black granite with specks of white glittering across it. The ceiling was covered in neat matte black tiles that complimented the shine of the stones on the walls. A singular white lightbulb was screwed into the ceiling, and you can tell its new with how bright it is. You drift your eyes down onto the polished wooden bars screwed onto the wall and you reach over to run your fingers down the wood. The floor was eggshell coloured and had a decorative red tiled square in the middle with a green outline a little farther out. To say this wasn’t a pretty elevator would be a lie.

The elevator stops and the doors open to reveal the teacher’s lounge. You’ve never been there before, the soft yellow paint on the walls was such a stark contrast to the dark elevator.

A professor walks by the opened metal doors and he makes eye contact with the student beside you, who was now rapidly pressing onto the close button.

“Jung–!”

The voice of what you recognized to be your general science professor was cut off by the metal doors shutting at his face and you turned to Wooyoung in disbelief. He gives you a wide smile in response as if nothing just happened. As if a teacher hadn’t just seen you in the prohibited elevator that was intended for staff use only! He turns back to look forward and rocks at the balls of his feet while humming a tune. You stare at his side profile a little too long for it to be considered casual before snapping out and trailing your eyes down to his outfit.

Surprisingly, he wasn’t decked out in black today. Instead, he had on a white button up that’s left untucked from his beige slacks. His hair was held back by white bobby pins and his bangs swooped in curls by his temples. His ears were not covered in silver spiky studs, rather a lone safety pin earring hung low on his left lobe. This look was such a change from what you’ve seen the last couple of days.

“So you’re checking me out now?” Wooyoung suddenly speaks as the elevator dips past the third floor and you blush, embarrassed that you were just caught ogling him. With his head still held up and faced forward, you see his eyes saunter over to you and a smirk break out on his plump lips.

“Definitely not.” But you’re a liar with high pride. “I was just surprised to see you dressed in something that won’t pass the great emo dance hall dress code.”

He laughs, voice high pitched and squeaky. You did not expect such a cute sound coming from a guy like him. You kind of expected him to laugh like a Chad with a deep voice and prominent ‘ha ha ha’s, but that definitely was not the case.

“I had a presentation in philosophy today.” He explains. “But do you really notice me that often to the point that you remember my sense of fashion, babe?”

Wooyoung now turns to you, leaning his elbows on the bar behind him and showcasing his absurdly beautiful body proportions. A slim waist and muscular thighs pulling the fabric of his slacks taut against the muscle. Oh, he was a god.

“Firstly, don’t call me babe. And what I noticed was that you and your bodyguards don’t know how to dress weather appropriately.”

Another laugh escapes his lips and he pushes himself up to stand straight, he wasn’t that tall but still stood a few inches taller than you. He watches you with bright eyes tinted in amusement.

“Can’t believe you just called Yeonjun and Changbin my bodyguards.” He was delighted, to say the least. He hasn’t had this fun of a conversation since he was like seven. And the most interesting to him that year was gundam. “You’re funny, you know that?”

“Downright hilarious, thank you.” Was your immediate response to the compliment and it only makes Wooyoung’s smile wider.

That and the sudden grumble that erupts from your stomach and fills the elevator. Now Wooyoung was howling with laughter and your face bloomed a bright red. His giggles and squeaks bounce around the four walls and right into your ears and it makes you so embarrassed.

When the elevator stops at the ground floor of campus, you rush to run out the moment the doors ding open. Wooyoung’s loud voice spills out into the hallway as he runs to follow you. Your shoes tap against the tiles with your quick footsteps and you try to duck under the light that spills out from the narrow lite doors of the classrooms but Wooyoung has no care abt the late classes going on inside them.

“Where are you going?” He calls out when he’s close enough, voice still echoing through the walls.

“Home. I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m a tad bit hungry.” You grumble, embarrassment filling your bones at the sheer volume of the rumble your stomach let out.

To be fair, it was nearing dinner time, 5:17 when you last checked your phone. You were wondering if you could manage to show up at San’s front door before six, you do kind of miss his mom’s chicken karaage and her sweet chilli sauce… yeah that sounds really good right now.

If you start running at this exact moment you’d probably make it to your neighbourhood in about thirty-five to forty minutes, which leaves you with approximately five minutes to toss your bag into your bedroom (rather, living room, realistically speaking) and then cross the street to the Choi household.

Great plan! You should start running right no–

“This way bozo!”

Wooyoung’s hand grabs your elbow before you can make a run for it and drags you the other way. You snap your head back at him

“Wooyoung?!” You yelp when you nearly trip over your own stumbling feet.

The dark haired male ignores how his heart is knocked around his chest because this was the first time you’ve said his name. He’s particularly fond of how the syllables fall off your tongue, even if it was rather panicked and angry right now. He’ll take that over nothing.

“Where are you taking me?!”

“Out to eat!” He smiles, wide and dazzling like always. It’s somewhat odd how smiley he is around you, considering that you just ‘met’ him the other day– and you say ‘met’ lightly because you’ve known him for a while now, how could you not when everyone talks about him with hushed voices in hallway corners? You’ve also seen him multiple times around campus, usually dark and alluring. Which is why you’re so confused at his current puppy-like attitude.

“I didn’t bring money!” You lie and continue to struggle out of his grip. Your shoes scrape against the pavement in an effort to escape, but it’s no use. Wooyoung is too strong of a man, made of lean muscle and that’s all. The truth is that you don’t think you can handle another minute around his presence if he continues like this. Smiling like the evening sun and laughing as if angels ring their bell choruses with him. And his eyes that sparkle at the now turned on street lamps.

“C’mon, y/n! It’s on me!”

You hope the warmth in your cheeks doesn’t result in a blush because now Wooyoung’s pouting. And he looks so cute! If someone told you yesterday that the badboy Grease cosplayer who helped you to the clinic was gonna act like a pouty, cuddly teddy bear dressed in beige today, you would have laughed in their face.

“I don’t have time!”

You plant your feet onto the ground and pull back from his grip. Your company only grips your arm tighter and stomps a foot on the ground, the wooden heel of his classic loafers clacking upon contact. The two of you stood in the middle of the sidewalk several paces from the campus gate, tugging back and forth at your arm.

“It’s a friday…” Wooyoung whines, dragging out the last syllable for added flare.

“Even so! I have stuff to do!” You reason out, truly hoping that he’d give up after this because you’re out of excuses.

“It’s free food, y/n! And I’ll take it as an apology for ruining my handkerchief!”

And you stop struggling. He has you cornered. The offer of free food and guilt working together to make you sigh. If you thought you were stubborn, then, god damn, Wooyoung was much worse. He put up a great fight and in the end, it was you who raised the white flag.

“… I hate you.” You grumble, eyes cast downward onto the pavement. Damn you, Wooyoung.

The man lets out a loud cheer. Jumping slightly before sliding his grip down to your wrist and excitedly dragging you down the street. His hand feels warm against the exposed skin of your wrist and you feel your heart kind of kick up in pace.

Definitely not because of Wooyoung’s hand on yours, rather it’s because he’s making you run so fast. Yeah, that’s it. And you were only getting sweaty and clammy because of your puffer jacket and totally not the nerves that’s coursing through your body at high speed. You’re glad Wooyoung wasn’t holding your hand.

You and Wooyoung stop in front of a cafe with a sign that glows ‘Sunny’s Cafe’ hanging from a post in front of the small building. Warm yellow light poured out onto the grey sidewalk through the large windows and bathed the two of you in a comforting glow.

The sun had fully set now, meaning the sky was a beautiful dark phthalo blue and a handful of stars peeked out from the clouds. Checking the time, you find out that it's thirty-three minutes past five, and you are so much hungrier now compared to twenty minutes ago. If you had refused Wooyoung’s offer and ran back to your neighbourhood, you’d have probably fallen onto the ground in hunger halfway through your journey.

Speaking of Wooyoung, he wordlessly pushes the glass door open and motion for you to enter. A small fox chime rings above your head, the shiny ceramic coloured with rich reds and oranges catches your attention and you smile at how pretty it is.

“Oh, Woo? What are you doing here?” A voice speaks and you turn to make eye contact with one of Wooyoung’s bodyguards, Changbin.

He’s dressed in a comfy tan shirt with an embroidered sun over his left chest, a small black apron wraps around his hips and you take note of the empty tray in his hand.

“Y/n, here, is starving, aren’t you babe?” He teasingly turns to you and you roll your eyes.

“So we’re here to grab a quick bite. Don’t worry, I won’t trouble you~” He coos at his friend, lips pushing into a pucker and Changbin steps back in mock disgust.

They share a quick laugh before Wooyoung turns to you and calls you to follow him. You look around the cafe and take in the gorgeous decor. Everything is a different homey shade of brown with little bits of green for accents. The tables were all rounded and wooden and polished a stunning mahogany and the cream cushioned chairs around them provided complement to the design. You notice clay pots hanging by the window above a marble counter and in them were flourishing greenery. The entire room filled with the buzz of customers talking, and dishes clinking against one another. The place was filled with neutral colours yet the people inside made it all seem alive.

Wooyoung leads you up a flight of stairs and into a different looking area. The upstairs had the same colour scheme as down below, but instead of potted plants and windows, the walls were covered in beautiful abstract paintings. The wall at the front of the building held windows that showed the beautiful night sky, stars, moon and all.

“Go and sit. I’ll get you something to eat.” Wooyoung points at a vacant table by the window and slinks back down the stairs, leaving you with no room to object.

Plopping onto the cushioned seat, you drop your bag onto the chair beside you and pull out your phone. Seeing that Yeosang had sent you a video a couple minutes earlier of San’s cat eating out of her food bowl, you let out a tiny chuckle.

he was a boy: damnnnn byeol fucking that shit up

he was a boy: EAT EAT EAT EAT

she was a girl: leave the poor pussy alone

he was a boy: san saw that, he said no byeol privileges for 3 days

she was a girl: aur naur D:

he was a boy: r u home yet?? or like have u eaten? cuz san’s mom told me to bring u some food if ure hungry

You snap a quick picture of the scene in front of you and send it to your best friend with a text saying ‘at this cafe rn,, ive never seen this place before’.

Which was true, this was your first time here. It’s not like you walk this way that often, so it wasn’t a surprise that this was new to you. You did make a mental note to take one of your three stooges down this part of town soon, perhaps you could find something fun.

he was a boy: that place looks fancy… are u on a date 🤨

he was a boy: with a sugar daddy?!?!?!

she was a boy: no sicko,, im here with wooyoung

Yeosang stops and stares at his phone for a moment. The smile that was once on his handsome features slowly fades into one of confusion. Why were you still with Wooyoung? Sure, he was aware that you had met up in hopes of returning the soiled kerchief, but that should have been all right? You weren’t required to go out on a date with him.

he was a boy: DATE WITH WOOYOUNG!?!?!?

he was a boy: didnt peg u to be a sandy olsson,, damn

His stomach churns in distaste. He doesn’t even know why he’s feeling this way, you’re not dating each other. You’re free to go on whatever date you desire. But he just wishes that you told him. Yeah, that’s why he’s upset. It’s because he wasn’t made aware of your whereabouts… Oh dear god, he sounds like a possessive boyfriend.

“You look ugly when you’re thinking.” San hops onto the cushion beside Yeosang, snapping him out of his trance.

“Oh shut up, dick piss.”

“You do look kind of worried there, sang.” Seonghwa chimes, gently setting himself on the other side of the troubled male and running a hand through his patchy diy silver hair.

“It’s nothing.” Yeosang blinks rapidly and brings his attention back to the gadget in his hands when it pings three times.

she was a girl: not a date, ew, never

she was a girl: also ik u love grease but i havent seen it so idk what u mean by that

she was a girl: and for ur information im more of a clueless person so id rather be a cher horowitz

he was a boy: so ure gonna fall in love with your brother?

Yeosang was conflicted, to say the least. He really shouldn’t be, and he knows this. But… You’re with Wooyoung, for heaven’s sake! Call him dramatic because you’re literally just eating at some bougie cafe, but last time you went alone to a cafe you met a guy! And the last time you met a guy San ended up beating him to a pulp! And a recurring theme with these guys is that you fell head over heels for them. All these guys had gotten you wrapped around their fingers and leaving him in the dust, forgotten until somehow they’re ripped away from you. Oh-so painfully.

But what if this time Wooyoung won’t be taken from you? Because face it, you’re y/n. You’re sweet, funny, and downright gorgeous. Wooyoung’s obviously gonna see that! And no matter how hateful he can get about the guy, he can’t deny that he’s quite charming and a catch. He’s strong willed, and if any of his so called ‘fights’ meant anything, it would be that if ever he’s placed in a situation where it might cost you, he’s not gonna back down like any of the other guys you’ve liked!

The thing is Yeosang really thought that your dynamic has changed after the past few months when you never left his side and always yearned for him. He thought that something shifted, that maybe you’d seen him in a different light after he showered you with such care and adoration. But who is he kidding? He’s been doing exactly that for the past four years now and where did that bring him? Nowhere… actually there was that one time a few years back when you–

Ping!

she was a girl: WE TALKED ABOUT THIS SANG

she was a girl: we will not be having another debate night on whether or not cher n josh’s relationship was ethically moral, i am TIRED

she was a girl: anw gtg wooyoung’s here

You place your phone face down on the table when you notice Wooyoung climbing up the stairs with a tray in hand. He slaps on a woven ring trivet in the middle of the table and sets a dutch oven on top of it and a large bowl beside it. The smell that wafts out from it was absolutely delightful, it had you salivating.

Wooyoung sees the way your eyes sparkle and lips stretch into an excited smile, which in turn makes him smile and have pride run quickly through his veins. He bows to you like a waiter and sets the empty tray onto a vacant table nearby before plopping himself on the chair across from you.

“On the menu today, madame y/n, is our house special: the uni steak pot rise and our best seller, the cha shu don.”

He gestures to each dish in front of you and, if the music playing through the speakers were two values lower, you would have heard the grumble of your stomach. It felt like you were in a food anime, honestly. Especially with how beautifully plated everything was and the steam that rose into the air.

“Wait, did you say specials and best sellers?” Wooyoung’s words finally process in your mind and you panic. “Are these expensive?! I literally didn’t bring enough money for this!”

“Calm down, y/n.” He waves dismissively at your face. “I said it was on me, remember? A–”

“Even so!” You cut him off. “I’m gonna have to pay you back or else I’m gonna feel guilty for the rest of my life and I’ll randomly think of how I owed this one guy a bajillion won in freshman year of college while I’m cooking dinner for my spouse and then instead of putting the chicken into the boiling oil I’ll accidentally throw ice and then I’ll kill myself and my spo–”

“Y/n!!”

“What?!”

“My god, you are such a blabbermouth.”

You throw a balled up piece of tissue at his face, one that’s a result of your nervous fiddling.

“As I was saying, before you so rudely interrupted me.” He taunts and pushes his face close to yours. “This is on me and no you won’t owe me anything because this costs nothing.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion and Wooyoung had to hold back a giggle. You looked so cute with your tiny butterfly hair pins in your highlighted hair and the soft cool pink lip gloss that made your lips glittery and pretty. Paired with your innocently cute expression, oh he just wanted to squish your face and coddle you!

“So, I’m gonna let you in on a secret.” He leans forward and so do you. “These actually aren’t on the menu yet.”

He whispered, well, not really, his voice was of normal volume but he was imitating a whisper. What a loser. The man in front of you leans back onto his chair and starts a little story, his eyes wandering from your face, to the paintings along the walls and out the window as he recalls various sequences.

“So I work here,” that much was a surprise to you, only because you’ve heard that Wooyoung was rather well off and thought he didn’t need to work while taking classes. But you stood corrected.

“And the owner gave me the go to test some of the recipes I developed in class and these two are some of them!” He smiles proudly at the food as if they were his own children. “So technically, I also brought you here as a test subject. Which means this is a win-win situation for us because, one, I get to test out my ideas; two, you’re getting free good food; and three, this could count as your apology for not washing my handkerchief properly! It’s a win-win-win!”

You let the last comment fly by you (because he was kind of right) and cycle back to what he said in the beginning.

“Hold on, you said ‘class’. Are you a culinary major?”

And when he nods enthusiastically, you drop your jaw. That’s surprise number two today.

“No shit?!”

“You didn’t know?” Wooyoung sounds puzzled and shocked. Not to be full of himself, but he thought a lot of people knew since they always whispered about him in the halls. A whole year of gossiping and no one ever thought about the topic of his passion and his major?! He feels defeated, not gonna lie.

“I thought you, like, majored in the study of that one douchebag from the breakfast club or I don’t know, fashion?”

This evokes a loud laugh from Wooyoung. One that makes other customers turn his way and sneer, but he doesn’t care. Because ever since you burst out on the rooftop this afternoon, the only thing he’s been doing is laughing. He’s never had this much fun in years.

“God damn, babe.” He wipes at the corner of his eyes when his laughter subdues. “Do you really think of me like that?” He wasn’t insulted, rather entertained as he leaned on his forearms (not elbows! No elbows on the table, was what his grandma taught him) with eyes filled with amusement.

“I mean you did laugh at me twice the other day.” You hum and rub your chin in mock thought and Wooyoung scoffs.

“I did not! The condom poster was funny and your band of idiots was screaming at each other over condoms! Who wouldn’t laugh at that?”

“The question is who would even laugh at that? The whole thing was just plain stupid an–”

“Whatever, y/n. Let’s eat.” Wooyoung cuts you off with a playful roll of his eyes.

“Okay, Einstein. Should I dig into this pot rice with my hands or…?”

“Oh right! Spoons!” And he hurriedly runs downstairs to retrieve a couple utensils while you sit back and giggle.

“What a dork.”

Funniest,

“Hey, Claire Standish.”

After your little comment last friday about his major, he spent a good amount of time in his room looking through the internet to watch The Breakfast Club. After nearly twenty-five minutes of surfing he finally found a website that streamed the full movie with subtitles. Sure, freemovies81.com was somewhat sketchy and he had to close millions of ads about ‘single hot women in your area who want to chat!’, but what else does he have? Also he’s pretty sure that site would have given his computer a virus and he just hopes his antivirus software was still working.

You hold back the urge to roll your eyes when a figure hops over the bench and sits his ass next to you.

“What do you want, Wooyoung?”

Yeosang sits in front of you with bewildered yet alert eyes. He glares at the newest addition to the scene, ticked off because he just interrupted your conversation, it was very serious might he add, about him starting a business where he sold his services to lonely people. Not in that way, you nasty. He saw this one tiktok about a Japanese man who made people pay him for doing nothing, and they did! They even paid for his meal during his working hours and all he does is sit and not talk. He doesn’t even talk!!

“Got you a little something.”

He places a pastel yellow box on the table in front of you and shows a proud smile. A little white sun sits at the top of the box and you assume that it’s from the cafe you went to last night. With a raised brow, you turn to the man beside you and ask him why.

“Well, Sunny was asking for some desserts, so I came up with a couple recipes and now I’m testing them out on my little lab rat.” He places an elbow on the table and leans his face on it, a smile still evident on his face.

You turn to Yeosang who looks like he just saw the sky suddenly turn green, trees growing upside down on the clouds and pigs flying. In short he was confused. Because he doesn’t know why this loser (not really he’s just upset) was suddenly beside you and placing a hand on your shoulder like he’s your cubby buddy in preschool.

“Yeosang I’m sure you know Wooyoung, and Wooyoung this is Yeosang.” You introduce with a sigh.

“Oh yeah, where are my manners?” Wooyoung leans across the table and extends a hand out to Yeosang. “I’m Wooyoung, I study culinary and I’m on your side by the way.”

Your best friend hesitantly clasps Wooyoung’s hand and almost lurches forward at the sheer strength and grip of his firm handshake. He throws him an even more confused look and turns back to you as if asking ‘do you know what this freak is talking about?’ and you shrug.

Noticing the look Yeosang shoots at you, Wooyoung speaks again.

“A couple days ago when you were announcing to the whole campus your condom preferences? Yeah, I’d go for menthol condoms too.”

You drop your head onto the table and heave out a heavy sigh. Yeosang had just forgotten about that and then here comes Wooyoung talking about it again. When will you be free from this condom discourse?!

“Oh yeah!” Yeosang’s eyes light up and his lips stretch into an excited smile. This time he initiates a handshake by slapping palms and firmly shaking it once. “Right? I don’t get why anyone would go for scented condoms!”

“Scented ones don’t have the benefits cool ones do. I don’t even get what he was defending his claim with, you know? You’re friend, San– was it?”

“Yeah and I looked it up, apparently scented condoms are also flavoured condoms, right?”

Wooyoung hums, placing an elbow on the table and leaning his chin atop his palm with his attention all on your best friend. They both miss the way you mutter ‘enough condoms, please’ under your breath and gently lower to rest your face on the scratched table.

“We know they’re only used for oral and if you use it for other things it’s gonna give you an sti!” Yeosang passionately ends with his eyes widening and a semi dramatic hand gesture.

“You’re so right! Speaking of him, where is he anyway?” He pulls the box towards him and starts to open the flaps.

Looking towards you, he sees your forehead planted on the table and your arms hanging by your side. The long haired boy pokes your shoulder and you sigh in response, telling him about San’s whereabouts that muffles against the wood.

“Oh, what a shame. I actually brought four slices because I thought he’d be here.” He unfolds the box and reveals four fruit tarts. “Sunny said she’s planning on putting up the tarts by spring, that’s why I chose mellow and fruity flavours.”

Inside the box were four beautifully decorated tart slices on fancy pink parchment. From left to right, there was a strawberry one with chocolate wafer crust, apple with a cinnamon cookie crust, then a blackberry with almond biscuits crust, and finally peaches with a crust of hazelnut and honey.

Wooyoung explained how he spent almost weeks pairing flavours and coming up with different techniques for both the filling and crust. In the end he stuck with using fruit puree for flavouring and a pâte sablée crust since most of their customers prefer it’s texture and crumbliness.

Yeosang sat in front of the box with his jaw on the floor. He himself was floored because of how delicate the treats look, but when he looks up at Wooyoung, it’s like he snaps his neck from whiplash. In contrast with the dainty pastels of the tarts, Wooyoung was dressed in a plain black hoodie jacket with a tank top of the same colour underneath and shows the defined lines of his golden collarbones. If you look closely you’ll see a deep red stain at the hem of his top but you assume it’s from some sort of red staining fruit. For pants, he has on black denim with the, ever present, silver chain going through his belt loops. And for the added flare, he had a singular black band around his neck and one holding back his hair.

It’s honestly astounding if Yeosang thinks about it. Because you mean to tell him this Patrick Verona-esqua boy baked… tarts? These elegant and carefully crafted tarts? He doesn’t believe it. This was some sort of hidden camera prank.

“What’s all this?” A voice speaks out from the side and you all turn to see Seonghwa.

The silver haired senior switches his gaze from you and Yeosang before landing on Wooyoung, who only stares. And then the tarts on the table. His eyes grow excited and he claps his hands.

“Oh sweet, tarts!”

He slides onto the bench beside Yeosang and wiggles his fingers in delight. If it wasn’t obvious enough, Seonghwa loved sweets. The amount of times you came home to him raiding through your fridge for your grandma’s homemade honeycomb ice cream was too many to count. You'd probably die if you took a shot for each one.

Wooyoung just blinks because this silver haired hottie showing up and climbing over happened in too short of a timespan. He just shrugs and mutters about how merrier it would be now that they have more people. And now the ratio of tarts to humans was now even.

In the end, there was nothing but crumbs left on the box, Seonghwa had his plastic fork stuck in his mouth trying to lick off every last bit of the strawberry tart that he just loves too much. Personally you leaned more towards the blackberry one because it had some sort of edge to it, it made your taste buds tingle in glee.

“Blackberry, huh…” Wooyoung hums when you tell him your favourite and he smiles, twisting a lock of his hair in between his fingers. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

And with that, he carefully folds back the box and announces his leave, his next class about to start in fifteen minutes.

“Don’t forget the strawberry tart tomorrow, okay?!”

Seonghwa calls after the walking boy who turns back and yells an ‘of course’. Apparently, he enjoyed the sweet a little bit too much that he begged Wooyoung for another slice. Making the younger promise to bring him one the following day.

“What was that about?” Yeosang suddenly speaks while you’re gathering your stuff.

“What was what about?”

“The him! The Wooyoung suddenly walking up to you and giving us tarts?”

“It’s what he said, he was recipe testing.” You were somewhat confused as to why Yeosang was confused.

“Yeah but why you?”

“Why not me? Is there something you want to tell me? Just spit it out, man! Do I have bad taste?” You chuckle and shake your head, Yeosang’s face squeezes more into confusion. Oh poor thing.

“That’s not what I mean! Y-you know– it’s just–”

“I’m kidding, Yeo!” Getting up from your seat, you throw your bag over your shoulder and step over the bench. “I don’t know either, really.”

The three of you walk back towards the entrance with you telling them about that cafe thing last friday. How Wooyoung brought you to the cafe out via blackmail (not really) and had you taste test some new dishes. You were a huge fan of the pot rice, especially the uni and the dried egg yolk.

“Like a date?” Seonghwa nudges your side and you roll your eyes.

“Ew, never. And don’t you have Creative Writing: The Craft of Plot to get to?” You mock his whining from the previous night.

‘Buttttt, the professor really likes my writing and forces me to read them in front.’

‘So what’s the problem?’

‘I’M SHY Y/N!’

That’s how the conversation went.

The older checks his expensive looking wristwatch (he said his dad brought it home last week from overseas) and his eyes nearly double in size. A curse escapes his beautifully shaped lips and goes to run up the stairs, yelling a quick goodbye and another curse about how it takes him almost ten minutes to get up to the fifth floor. Oh, if only he took the elevator.

The same thing happened the next day, Wooyoung approaching you in the middle of lunch with a smaller box in hand. This time he graciously places it in front of Seonghwa who only beams when he sees that Wooyoung put extra whipped cream on top of his slice. The silver haired man nearly flips the table over when he jumps and vibrates in happiness. Sometimes you forget that he’s a year older than you.

“Standish! Wait up!”

Wooyoung’s unmistakable voice calls for you the second time that day. You were on the way out because you were admittedly a tad bit peckish and the cafeteria food today was not like the romanticized version you thought it to be. You were just looking for a small stand nearby, something sweet maybe. And also to fill up free time because your Deco Arts professor called off, saying that his daughter fell into a hole or something. The man said he’ll be emailing additional instructions on your tapestry project later in the day. Your next class wasn’t in an hour and a half, so you thought, why not take a walk. But alas, here comes Wooyoung to ruin your plans.

“Stop calling me Standish!”

“No.” Wooyoung stops beside you, a smile wide on his face.

The glare you throw at him doesn’t deter him, instead he fights back by widening his smile and stepping closer to you. So there you two stand, toe to toe in the middle of a cobblestone pathway looking at each other, albeit with two different emotions, but to each their own. From the looks of it, Wooyoung’s not gonna give up soon. And if you remember from a few days ago, this boy is too damn stubborn to be called a man. So you give up.

“What now, Wooyoung?” You whine, your voice tinted with annoyance but you know that the emotion was only some sort of cover.

“I’m going to Sunny’s later after class and Sunny said I should bring someone because she wants to test some cupcakes.”

The moment ‘cupcake’ leaves his lips, you’re sold. One hundred percent.

“My shift ends at six on Tuesdays and Thursdays so Sunny will probably start recipe testing at around six thirty, because… I don’t know why she always waits for me to clock out. Anyway–”

“Wait, it’s Tuesday?” You interrupt the rambling boy and fish your phone out of your pants pocket.

Indeed it was Tuesday and you know what Tuesday nights were reserved for. As much as you’d love to go and test Sunny’s new cupcakes, you can’t stand Yeosang up again. Not after the last time… God, you feel yourself tearing up just thinking about it. So you swallow your feelings and give Wooyoung an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry Wooyoung…” A sigh. “I can’t do Tuesdays.”

You notice Wooyoung’s face fall for a flash of a moment before he’s back to his smiling self again.

“So I’ll take it as a yes for next time? Got it!” He says cheerily.

“Wait– what?!”

Yet before you can protest the long haired male is jogging out the arch and waving enthusiastically at you.

“I’d love to chat but I’ve got a shift to start!”

And you just roll your eyes with a sigh.

“I brought you this.” You throw a pack of puku puku tai at Yeosang’s face when you walk through your bedroom door.

“Sweet, you got me the strawberry one!”

“No, I got all the flavours in the convenient store.”

You toss the bag onto the bed beside him and walk to your closet. You hear the plastic rustling before a tiny ‘yes’ fills the room. You believe he just found the three packs of homerun ball at the bottom of the bag. You had to fight about five kids to get those three, they were selling like hotcakes!

You throw your clothes haphazardly into the hamper and run to jump onto the bed. Finally feeling the sweet soft relief of your sheets and pillows. Oh this was exactly what you needed. Snuggling up to Yeosang, you notice that he’s already made himself comfortable, having changed into the clothes he had left at your place because of the ungodly amount of time he spent staying over. You watch as your best friend surfs through Disney Plus in search of a trilogy to binge. You both decide on watching the entirety of the high school musical trilogy.

“I just don’t see why everyone is painting Sharpay to be the villain!” You exclaim half through the second movie, absolutely outraged at the mistreatment your favourite character is getting.

Yeosang only hums, taking small sips from his keroppi soda. The convenience store you got it from just got a new shipment from Japan which explains the hello kitty ramune soda you had in your hand and the other sanrio themed snacks.

“She is kinda bitchy…” Your best friend mutters, hoping you didn’t hear him.

Oh but you did.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN?!”

You reach for the remote to pause the movie, stopping on the scene of Sharpay on the golf course with her father and Troy.

“She’s literally so selfless! She’s hardworking and she knows her worth! Everything she does is for her to reach her dream and to help Troy! Yet at the end of everything, Troy rejects the opportunity of a lifetime just because he doesn’t want to be her date at an event; instead of getting recognition for her talent and hardwork, all the praise goes to her fruity ass brother! And she doesn’t even get to reach her dream! Or get the stupid fucking jock!”

Yeosang watches your outburst with amused eyes. His favourite parts of movie nights with you were when you get so passionate about it. Either it’s about a controversial line or the overall theme of it all. He loves it when you speak and ramble about your thoughts. Seeing you so free and comfortable just makes something erupt in his tummy. He doesn’t know why.

“That’s a reasonable argument, however–”

You throw the empty candy wrapper at his face again.

“NO! No ‘however’s! Shut up! Go to hell! Your mom!”

And Yeosang falls back laughing. You’re so immature.

In the span of a week you had eaten: tarts, croissants, pies, cookies, sweet rolls, and so many ounces of sugar. You’re pretty sure the blood running in your body was about the same as the simple sugar mixed into cocktails. The culprit? None other than Wooyoung, of course.

It’s baffling the amount of time Wooyoung has spawned in front of you to shove a cutely packaged cake roll in your face. Sometimes even multiple times a day! And if you count that one Thursday where he dragged you to the cafe to let you test a whole bunch of Sunny’s cupcakes, your lifespan might as well be cut in half. They weren’t bad, don’t misunderstand, but this rate and pace is gonna kill you. You’d be sitting in the field or walking along the hallways when the so-called bad boy heartthrob would show up in front of you like some genie with a pastry in hand. He’ll then go and talk about how he’s recipe testing again. Once he even said he was recipe testing for next fall! Damn, Sunny’s cafe doesn’t play.

As much as you loved all the sweets he’s brought you, you do feel like you’re gonna die of a sugar induced heart attack in the next week if he continues with this pattern. So one fine Friday afternoon, you sit Wooyoung down on a bench and look him dead in the eye.

“Are you trying to kill me?”

Wooyoung sputters in shock, because what? That was not a good start to a conversation. What happened to ‘hi’? ��Hello’? ‘My name is…’?

“Wha– No?”

“Was that a question?!” You exclaim, taking a step back in shock. “So you are trying to kill me?!”

“No! I’m not!”

“Then why are you trying to give me diabetes everyday?”

“I–...” From shock, Wooyoung’s face morphs into one of mischief. “Are you saying I’m too sweet for you to handle, Standish?”

“No. And don’t call me Standish–”

“You’d rather I call you babe?”

“Don’t interrupt me.” You shove a finger against his lips to shut him up, because damn.

“Listen, I appreciate how you bring me all these sweets to test but at this rate I’m gonna die of a sucrose overdose! They’re really good, don’t get me wrong but eating two slices of pie everyday isn’t gonna get me anywhere but a funeral home in the next five-ten years. And I’m flattered that you had me test them all but, everyday? Isn’t that too much? Not that I think your recipes are too sweet– no! They’re perfect, absolutely perfect an–”

“I get it, y/n…”

You stop your rambling look down at Wooyoung. He had his elbows on his knees and his hair down. With his annoyingly (not really) long hair falling over his face you couldn’t see his expression, but the hunched over back doesn’t exactly give you the impression that he’s happy-happy. That and his voice was soft and low, like he was a little kid denied a play date. He sounded so sad. Oh no what have you done. He didn’t even call you Standish, or babe! Just your name… Oh god you fucked up.

“I’m gonna be honest…” Wooyoung says after a few beats pass, “that kinda hurt my feelings.”

And it was like your world shattered. No! That’s not what you wanted! You just wanted to not die of diabetes! And now look at Wooyoung, he was sad!

“No! I mean… It’s okay! Nevermind what I said! I–”

“It’s okay, y/n. I get it.” He sighs heavily and even more guilt piles up in your stomach. “I understand.”

Wooyoung rubs his face, and finally looks up at you. His lips were pursed and curved down into a frown. You’ve never hated an expression more in your life. You wanted to get rid of it. Can Wooyoung go back to smiling please? You don’t like this one, he might be broken.

“But…”

But? Spit it out Wooyoung! What ‘but’? You were so nervous you started fiddling with the stray threads on your cardigan. If you weren’t freaking out right now you would have slapped your hands because the cardigan was new! It arrived at your doorstep just yesterday!

“I’ll forgive you, if you go out with me tomorrow.”

The boy stands, a smirk on his face and you take back everything you said. No more keeping Wooyoung happy! You want to punch him on the throat! That was terrifying, you almost shat your pants!

Falling to the ground, you bury your face into your palms, not caring about your eyeliner right now. You were too shaken and shocked at his performance. You really thought he was upset! You almost swore to kill yourself of glucose poisoning for him. What was that about?!

“You scared me, bastard!” Your cry goes muffled against your hands and you hear Wooyoung laugh.

He grabs your arms and brings you to your feet, a smile back on his face. You definitely prefer this look on Wooyoung.

The male can only laugh and admire you. Your hair was up and out of your face, small pieces of your highlights were free from being slicked back and framed your face and he internally fawned at how pretty it makes you look. The cardigan you threw on today makes him squeal because it's so fluffy and it’s cow printed! But he knows it’ll probably go out of style in a month or less, because that’s how fast fashion is. Your dark blue jeans were flared at the bottom with multiple rips torn into the knee area and his eyes fell down to your worn out white converse sneakers.

Compared to him, he would say you’re like a sweet creamy latte while he’s a harsh cold black coffee. It makes him want to hug you and hold you. He can't help it! You look like a marshmallow right now, a cow marshmallow! Is there anything cuter than that?

“So what do you say?”

Wooyoung pushes a strand of your hair behind your ear and that’s when you realize how close you are with him. And again, you can’t help but admire the sharp angles of his jaw and the curves of his lips and slope of his nose and–

“Like a date?” You ask suddenly.

The moment the words leave your lips you panic and regret flows through you.

“No.” unless you want it to be he wants to say but he knows he can't. “Just as new buddies. Again, as an apology for hurting my feelings.” He dramatically wipes a tear away and you huff.

“Fine.”

You ignore how your heart somewhat sinks when he quickly denies the idea of it being a date. But it’s literally only been a week since you met the guy, yet you’re here proposing dates? And having him set a boundary in the beginning is good, you tell yourself. Because now you can try to hold back from gaining feelings because you know his intentions are platonic.

“Great! I’ll text you!”

And he was gone… wait, how is he gonna text you?

unknown: hey standish, so tmrw ill meet u @ that dog cafe near campus

You look around for Wooyoung but he’s gone for real. How did he get your number?

claire standish: wooyoung?? howd you get my number?

john bender: nurse’s office

claire standish: URE SO CREEPY OH MY GODDD

claire standish: HOW LONG HAVE U HAD MY NUMBER???

“Who are you texting?!”

San suddenly appears behind you and jumps to look over your shoulders.

“Are you setting a date with Wooyoung?!” He announces for everyone to hear but who cares? San was in too much of a shock.

“No, dick piss!” You can really tell that you and Yeosang were best friends because you two come up with the same ridiculous names to call him.

“Date with who now?” Seonghwa walks up behind San and throws you a curious look.

“No one! Geez…”

“Then why were you planning to meet him tomorrow?” San squints his cat-like eyes, making them appear sharper.

“Meet with who?” Yeosang passes by, skateboard in hand.

“No one! Nothing! It’s nothing!!” You shove San’s hands off your shoulders and huff. “What are you all doing here?”

“We study here, Einstein.”

You roll your eyes at Yeosang who now stands beside you, elbow resting on your shoulder and leaning his weight onto you.

“Now what’s this about you making plans to meet up with strangers?”

“Oh my god, it’s literally just Wooyoung.”

Yeosang falters, his face falling for the shortest moment. But you don’t notice because you’re pouting at San who makes kissy faces at you. But Seonghwa does. He always had. Ever since that one night where you invited him to your movie night. He’s noticed how Yeosang’s face falls when there’s someone you have your eyes on. And it confuses him, because it’s so painfully obvious; so how come you never noticed? He’s known you two long enough to know that your dynamic is toeing over the line of just friends but, my god, seeing you two dance around that line is frustrating. For him!

“What for, y/n?” Seonghwa interrupts before you could start choking San to death.

“I said some shit to him earlier and I felt bad.”

“Yeah, but do you have to be meeting up at that dog cafe nearby– Dont deny! I read the text!” If you wanted to strangle San earlier, the urge only strengthened.

That cafe?! Yeosang was fucked, exponentially. Because, in case it wasn’t obvious enough, that cafe was where you met… cough cough y*nho. What if you were once again swayed by the calming decor of the place and fall for Wooyoung just like how you fell for Yunho? Or worse… you see Yunho again and it’s gonna be this whole ordeal and Yeosang doesn’t want that! Not after finally knowing how it felt like to be the only one in your eyes. Sure, it sounds selfish, but can’t he be selfish just this once?

So here you are, standing in front of your vanity and obsessing over how your lipstick looks, because wow! You got this lipstick from the mall a couple weeks ago, you hadn’t tried it yet and you wish you had put it on earlier. Holy shit, your lips look gorgeous.

Taking a step back, you turn to the full length mirror beside your bed and admire your outfit. You run your fingers over your soft rib knit cropped cardigan and fawn over its soft petal pink colour. You remember having to wait weeks for them to restock for it because people were selling it out on their website. Underneath you wore a plain white mock neck but no one really cares about that, because look at your cardigan! It’s pink!!

You do a little jig and giggle to yourself, beyond ecstatic because your pants were so comfy and warm and easy to move in. Although they cost a pretty penny, it’s worth it since they were of wonderful quality and made of corduroy! You especially love the rich syrup hue of them and how it compliments the delicate colours of your cardigan. They were long and wide legged, it cinched at your waist and flowed down your legs. This was definitely going onto your instagram.

“Oh, where are you going?”

Lei stops you when she sees you walking down the stairs. Your sister’s eyes linger on your pink padded headband and the pearls that hang from your ears and she wonders what you were so dressed up for.

“Just out with a friend…” You try to avoid the topic as much as possible. There is now way you’re telling Lei about Wooyoung.

“Oh, you mean Yeosang?”

“Yeah…” You lie, fingers fiddling with the strap of your purse.

“And Seonghwa?” You nod.”What… What about San?”

Her voice was soft and cautious. But not a gentle kind of cautious… or maybe it’s because your perspective of your sister had changed so much you could no longer perceive her as gentle and kind. But something about it sounded sinister. Was it because she was asking about her ‘ex’?”

“N– I really have to go, Lei. I’ll be late.” You slowly step down, careful to not make that much sound with your heels. Your face was apprehensive, walking on eggshells because the tension was building up again. Becoming so thick you could feel it suffocating you.

Lei lets out a small ‘oh’ and looks at her sock clad feet. Why were you acting this way? Why weren’t you trying to mend things with her? It’s making her so frustrated but she can’t even show it because she has to be a good and obedient sister. Or whatever bullshit you wanted from her.

Your shoes clack against the wooden stairs as you carefully make your way down. A quick check of your watch tells you that it’s twenty to ten, meaning you have plenty of time to catch a bus and commute to the cafe.

Wooyoung sees you before you see him. He was sitting on a bench in front of Paraselene, legs crossed and scrolling through his twitter. It hadn’t been long since he got there, probably a good five minutes. What can he say? He likes being early. And when he sees you hop off the bus around the corner it was like his heart stopped.

You were walking down the street in an adorable get up, something reminiscent to Claire Standish. The pink cardigan and the brown trousers just made the character pop up in his mind. But it seems so like you, so pretty and fun and funky. Your hair was bouncing as you bobbed your head to the music from your earphones, the wires were decorated in cute pearlescent beads that he’d seen you carry around before.

With your feet shuffling down the pavement along to an Aretha Franklin song, you fail to notice Wooyoung laughing at your dancing figure and snapping a quick picture. Only when you were about to pull open the glass doors of the cafe did Wooyoung call out to you, voice loud enough to be heard over ‘I say a little prayer’. He crosses the road (very careless might you add, he didn’t even look both ways!) and stands in front of you with a smile.

“You’re early.” You pull a bud out of your ear and check your watch to see that it’s only about to be ten.

“And you’re right on time.” He grins.

You look down at his outfit and grin, he’s in black again. A wife beater hugs his slim and lean torso, showcasing his prominent collarbones. He had a large polo opened and it had banana fish manga panels printed along the bottom. His cargo pants were strappy and tangly and decorated with minimal silver chains this time. And standing in front of him, you can’t help but compare how vastly different your styles are.

“Well, let’s go!” Wooyoung cheers and grabs your hand, pulling you down a nearby alleyway.

“Wait– we’re not going in here?” You point back at the cafe you’re now walking away from.

To say that the cafe wasn’t one of the reasons you were excited for today would be a lie. You remember it, so well. The ambiance, the food, the dogs! And… the people too. You remember him, you kinda miss him, honestly. The first thing you did when you passed by the large window was look for someone behind the counter. But you felt silly, because, if you remember correctly, his shift was in the afternoon. And maybe because he wasn’t here anymore… and some part of you just yearned for closure and missed him. Well, you missed all of them but that’s something you’ll have to deal with later.

Running down the alleyway, you catch glimpses of the peeling paint of building walls and forgotten puddles along the pebbled path. Various trash cans and dumpsters were lined along the walls and you held your breath, trying your best to not get the pungent smell of rotting food and whatever else is in the disposals get to you.

When the narrow road finally ends and opens up you just ‘wow’. Because that's all you can say. You’ve never seen this place before. You didn’t even know something like this was hiding behind the corners of this quaint town. You’ve passed by that alleyway hundreds of times, you walk by it everyday on your way home! You’re familiar with the tall buildings and humble cafes scattered along the streets but you were shocked at how a beautiful scene was brewing right behind the towering concrete trees you had grown fond of.

Behind the comforting yet intimidating structures and giant brick boxes was a bright and lively clearing. Stalls were placed around each random corner of the area and steam just wafted through the entire place. On one corner you saw an elderly woman scooping what you think is jjajjang tteokbokki into a bowl. Beside her stall was a young boy, probably early teens, patting a cup of ramen upside down onto a plate. The noise of stoves clicking on and grills sizzling fills the air and you can’t help but be amazed.

“You like it?”

You flinch when Wooyoung suddenly speaks beside you, you may have forgotten him for a moment… It’s only because the place was so beautiful! And the food smelled so good, and the sun was a perfect temperature. The image of it all was so distracting. You love it.

“What is this place?”

“Hidden Nest, it’s a street food market. There’s a banner right there, y/n.”

And sure enough, there was a banner hanging from a pole to your left. It had ‘Hidden Nest: street food market’ in big bold yellow letters against a pale blue background that reminded you of the sky on an early morning.

“So it seems…”

You trail off and Wooyoung shakes his head mid chuckle. His hand grasps your wrist again, it’s something he’s grown a soft spot for, and brings you down the gravel path to a stall that held a red sign that said ‘Grandpa Cho’s Kimchi’. This was his favourite stop in the entire market. His mother first brought him here when he was little because a friend of hers owned the stall. They had used their grandfather’s family recipe for kimchi and they use it to make many kimchi based dishes.

His favourite being kimchi cheese rice balls. They were crispy on the outside and chewy and cheesy on the inside. He remembers having competitions with his cousin on who can have the best cheese pull, safe to say he always won (no he didn’t).

“Oh Wooyoungie! It’s been so long!” An elderly woman greeted once the boy stepped closer.

“Only been a week, Mrs. Joo.” Wooyoung chuckled.

“And that’s already one week too long!” Mrs. Joo gasped dramatically.

He used to see the old woman every other day but since he’s in college now and his schedule’s a bit more busy, it’s been cut to once every week or every other week. It’s a pity, though. Because a couple months ago her husband passed away and he really wanted to comfort her in some way. He felt so sad for her, and now she had to handle the shop without her husband. Not many might know, but Wooyoung is a sucker for couples growing old together; so seeing such a beautiful couple be parted by the cruel ways of life made his heart shatter.

“Saeri! Come!” The old woman calls behind her and a young woman pops out from behind a stack of crates. “Wooyoung’s finally here!”

Wooyoung only flinches. Of course, the long time acquaintance with their family brings the inevitable matchmaking all adults do. And Wooyoung wasn’t spared from this one. The Cho’s had a granddaughter around his age and that was the only qualification they needed to set them up together. Don’t get him wrong, Saeri isn’t bad looking at all, rather just not his type. And he only saw her as a sister. Which is also why he got the idea of bringing you here. Maybe if he gave them the impression that he was taken, they’d back off. It’s not like they know his parent’s rules.

“Wooyoung!”

He’s not blind he notices the girl’s sparkling eyes and pink tinted cheeks. He knows she’s taken a liking for him. Which only makes the entire thing so much more frustrating. He doesn’t want to be the bad guy who breaks the heart of the girl who’s arranged as collateral to him by being the unresponsive one in the relationship. If he was in a relationship he’d want to be able to give his partner the love they deserve. He doesn’t want to fake his feelings.

“Hi Saeri.”

You watch the scene unfold from behind, seeing this girl, Saeri’s, eyes light up and Wooyoung’s shoulders stiffen, and you have to stifle a laugh. This was funny to you because seeing Wooyoung cower at the sight of a little petite girl was just so entertaining.

You can tell that Saeri’s a lovely girl. Her dark hair was neat, straight and clipped back with a cute flower hairpin. She was wearing a white cropped polo shirt and her jeans had bunnies embroidered onto the pockets. You spot a light orangei-sh stain on the green apron she had around her waist and it makes you more fond of the girl. Also she had such a soft smile, who wouldn’t love her? She looked beyond adorable! If you could just reach over and pinch her cheeks–

“Ah right…” Wooyoung finally relaxes his shoulders, “Can we get two cheese rice balls?”

At the mention of the word ‘we’, the two women in the stall finally turn to you, successfully putting you on the spot. Your eyes flicker from Saeri’s to Mrs. Joo’s to the menu in front of you.

“I’d also like a sikhye…” Your voice was faint, knowing that you had two pairs of eyes (that makes four!) on you made you kind of uneasy. Especially because they were looking at you like they were shocked! Were you not supposed to be here?

“Make that two!” Wooyoung suddenly steps to your side and places an arm around your waist, just like when he took you to the clinic a couple weeks ago.

His palm was warm against the bare skin of your waist and the touch made your skin warm and a shiver ran up your spine. The action doesn’t go unnoticed by the women in front of you and it evokes two different reactions from them. Mrs. Joo’s eyes widened nearly ten times and she had to physically hold back a gasp, her hand flew to her chest as if scandalized. From the corner of your eye you notice Saeri’s shoulders slump the slightest bit and her smile falters, but only for a fraction of a moment.

“And who is this lovely lady?”

You blush when Mrs. Joo addresses you as lovely, ignoring the way she grits it through her teeth.

“This is y/n!”

“Your girlfriend?” Grandma Joo’s eyes were wide but now with curiosity and hope that maybe you weren’t Wooyoung’s girlfriend but just a friend, cousin maybe. Anything but girlfriend.

And just when you were about to protest, you felt Wooyoung’s fingers pinch your side.

“Mhmm.”

Saeri from behind her grandmother just sighs and visibly deflates, and it makes you want to take back everything Wooyoung said because she looked so sad. And you felt so bad. She obviously liked the guy, if it wasn’t obvious by her sparkling eyes and the way she very gently pronounced his name, maybe her pink cheeks were more of a visible sign.

But Wooyoung’s pinching was occupying more of your mind and you really want to rip him off your waist. So you just nod and try to hide the pain from showing in your smile.

When Mrs. Joo finally drops the topic and goes to prepare your orders, Wooyoung’s hold on your waist loosens and you turn to give him a look. To which he responds with a sheepish smile, his fingers running up and down the area he pinched. A giggle escapes your lips and you whisper to him about how it tickles but he acts like he doesn’t hear. He just goes ‘huh?’ before tickling your sides once more.

“Wooyoung I said that tickles!” You speak a little louder this time, catching the attention of Saeri who’s patting mozzarella onto a third of a cup of flattened rice.

Saeri never really knew Wooyoung, only ever seeing him when he and his mother would stop by their stall. She knows he’s good looking, that everyone can tell, and she’d be a tad bit embarrassed to say that she took interest in him because of that only. But who can blame her? Her feelings were only pushed by her grandmother, trying to get them to be friends and then maybe more in the following years.

As one can tell, that plan didn’t work out. Yeah, Saeri was bummed, but it’s not like had her heart broken by the love of her life who she’s been pining on for seven bajillion lifetimes now. Wooyoung was just a cute little crush, that’s all. The most upsetting thing to her about this whole ordeal was that Wooyoung didn’t seem to have even the smallest of crush on her! Not in the ‘why don’t you like me back so we can date’ way, but rather in a ‘why don’t you like me when i’m cute and pretty?’ way.

Oh well, she digresses. Her main issue right now was to stop her grandmother from falling on the floor and wailing her heart out.

Wooyoung goes to sit on a bench in the shade and you follow suit. He hands you a packaged rice ball and places the drinks in between you two. A sigh escapes his lips as he unwraps his own rice ball and leans in to take a bite.

“Girlfriend, huh?” You’re looking at him with a mischievous glint in your eyes. “And you said this wasn’t a date”

Wooyoung just huffs, remembering his words from yesterday.

“I only said it to get Saeri off my back. Mrs. Joo has been subtly showcasing her every time I come here.” Emphasis on the sarcastic tone for ‘subtly’ because the old woman bringing the poor girl forward and fixing her hair and clothes every time they saw him, was not subtle at all.

“But I bet you wished it was a date huh?” he wiggles his eyebrows.

“In your dreams.”

You on the other hand, roll your eyes and take a big bite out of the snack in your hand. But they soon widen when you hear the crunch that comes from the rice ball, the cheese stretches out when you pull your head back and the pleasant sour notes the kimchi adds to the flavour explodes in your mouth. Oh dear god! How come you’ve never tried these before?!

“Yeah, you are in my dreams.” Wooyoung panics. No way did he just say it out loud.

Your cheeks may have reddened but that’s just from the initial shock of his words (yeah keep saying that). You hurriedly chew down the bite to retort, trying your best to maintain a platonic and casual tone to your words.

“Are you coming on to me?” You tease in an attempt to hide how fucking fast your heart was beating right now. Is Wooyoung flirting with you? It’s not like you're opposed to the idea.

“Why? Is it working?” He shuffles closer and offers a coy smile.

Again, you roll your eyes and push his face away from yours. Shoving about half of your rice ball into your face, you busy yourself with looking at the scenery. The buildings around you had casted shadows onto the gravel pathways from the late morning sun and the grass glittered in the dew the early morning shower gave them. You spot a squirrel scuttering by a tree and run across to grab a peanut a little kid had tossed out for it. What a peaceful scene, you could definitely get used to this.

“So it is working?”

Wooyoung exclaims when he sees the way your cheeks tinted pink and eyes desperately avoid his gaze. He moves to stand in front of you with a smile so bright you think it’ll blind you. But he can’t help it. You look so cute with a blush on your face and looking all shy, and it's because of him nonetheless! It makes his heart pick up even faster than it did when you arrived. Like just a little bit earlier when he was dragging you through the alleyway, he was wishing that you didn’t feel how clammy his hands got. He doesn’t know why but that’s just how you affect him; sweaty palms, red ears, and an erratic beating heart.

This was the third time you rolled your eyes at him since you sat down, and if you roll them once more you feel like they’ll just pop out of their sockets. That’s only because you don’t know how else to react to the batshit crazy things Wooyoung says. If you react in any other way you’re sure he’s gonna realize that you’re fond of him. And you know he’s going to weaponize your reactions against you, you don’t want that happening!

“Don’t flirt with me, Jung.” You pick up your sikhye as an excuse to cast your head down and avoid his eyes again.

Oh but Wooyoung’s relentless. He crouches down in front of you and hugs his knees, leaning a squishy cheek onto his pants. His smile remains teasing and flirty and you just want to punch it off his face because you don’t know how long you’ll last at this rate.

“Is it because you’re afraid of falling for the bad boy?”

He then gets unceremoniously pushed back onto his bum, landing on the ground with a soft ‘umf!

“Ew, gross!” You lean back, laughing into your palm while almost spilling your drink on your pants.

Wooyoung thinks he could get used to this, you laughing freely at his jokes, eating good food and overall just having a great time. He wishes he can snap a photo of this moment and live inside it for the rest of his life. He was down so bad.

“Do you want a bingsu or not?”

Wooyoung stares at you with unamused eyes. You have been staring at this one bingsu stall every time you pass by it and Wooyoung genuinely thinks your head will get unscrewed off your neck with how much you were twisting and turning to see the shop.

“No.” You lie straight through your teeth and Wooyoung can tell.

So instead of listening to you lie even more, he pulls you to the direction of the bingsu shop. ‘Minsoo’s Bingsoo’ was what it was called, or that’s what the banner hanging from above you said. The man inside was busy slicing mangoes and scooping it out of the skin, eyes focused on the tub of squared mangoes in front of him. When he notices the two of you approaching, he looks up and you feel like running to look closer at his face. He looks quite familiar, sharp cat like eyes, slim sharp jaw. If his hair wasn’t an obnoxious berry pink you’d have thought he was San!

“Hello there! I’m Minsoo, what can I get for ya?”

“Hi Minsoo! We’ll have one large mango, please.” Wooyoung hands him the cash before the man could even scribble down your order. He also did that earlier when you got the rice balls. You’d dug into your pocket for some cash but when you looked up Wooyoung was already crushing the receipt in his hand and quickly shoving it into his pocket. So you stood there, shocked with your jaw hanging low.

“Again Wooyoung?” You wanted to pay this time, to make it fair.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He doesn’t even glance at you when he chucks the receipt into another one of his many flappy pockets.

“Just once Woo, please!”

The dark haired male feels his face heat up and he only wishes his ears weren’t red right now. Sure he’s been called ‘Woo’ by literally all of his friends, but this is his first time you called him that! This was revolutionary! Does this mean you’re closer with each other now?

“I really have no idea what you’re talking about.” Yet he only clears his throat to calm his emotions.

“Was the extra syrup really necessary?”

Wooyoung questions once you plop back down in front of him. You were now seated in front of each other on a small round table in front of Minsoo’s stall, a big red umbrella hiding you from the brutal eleven am sunshine. When you first sat down and dug into the large cold bowl of bingsu you excused yourself to get a little extra mango syrup because you claimed that it was missing that extra kick.

‘Yeah right, extra kick towards death by diabetes’ Wooyoung mutters before squawking in disbelief because wasn’t that why you said you’d stop eating his sweets everyday?!

“I like sweet stuff, okay?”

“So Standish has a sweet tooth?”

“You should really stop calling me Standish, you know?” You scoop a big heap of ice cream into your mouth. “Because what if I’m more like Allison Reynolds?”

The man in front of you just looks down at your petal pink cardigan and goes: “Yeah right.”

So you kick him under the table.

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“Listen, babe, you’re nothing like Reynolds. From your outfit alone, it’s like you’re cosplaying Claire.”

He’s right. You’re nothing like Allison. The only quality you shared with the movie character was that you both were compulsive liars. Based on what you gathered from the movie (more like what movie commentary youtubers gathered), Allison was quiet and that is already a stark difference from you who cannot keep her mouth shut.

“And besides, this is you.”

Wooyoung held up a small square of mango up to you and claimed that you were the said fruit. Confused, you tilt your head to the right and shove a spoonful into your mouth.

“Because you’re refreshing and sweet, sometimes, not sometimes, sour but still!”

You gawk at the little comment he sneaked in and smacked his arm. Wooyoung bites his lip obnoxiously and rubs his fingers on his chin.

“You’re so ugly!” You erupt in a laughing fit.

And that was exhibit A of compulsive lying.

And the sweetest person I’ve ever met.

“Sunny’s going on vacation for a couple days.” Wooyoung comes up to you in the library one day. “She left me a couple of her recipes to practice and I need you to taste test them again for me.” And he ends with a beam.

“Maybe you should start paying me for being your taste tester.” You lean back onto the chair and stretch your work-shy muscles. You had been typing out an essay for the last thirty minutes or so and you were in need of a break.

“I’ll ask Sunny about that later. What do you say?”

You hum and rub your chin in thought.

“But wouldn’t the cafe be closed? I thought no one else had the key but Sunny?”

“I was planning on baking a batch everyday and bringing it to you before classes.”

“Everyday?!” You exclaim, covering your mouth once again when you remember that you were in the library. “Wooyoung I’m gonna die!” You whisper-shout and grab the sleeve of his jacket.

“Then how else am I gonna do it?” He whispers back. “Obviously I can’t perfect a recipe on the first try! So I’m gonna have to do several trials and then you’ll have to test them all. It’s the only way!”

“But I can’t eat fucking cupcakes everyday! I’m gonna be on a constant sugar rush and sugar crashes are the worst! Can’t you just bake several batches differently and bring them to me?”

“How can I keep track of the different techniques and shit if I make them all in one go? Please y/n.” He whines now crouching beside you on the ground.

“Isn’t there any other way?”

“I mean I can always bring some stuff to your place and bake there for efficiency.”

Your blood runs cold when Wooyoung suggests the idea. You cannot have another guy at your place. You remember what happened last time, you don’t want it to happen again. And now that you know how jealous Lei can be, you know she’s gonna lose her mind when she sees you with another guy. Especially one as good looking as Wooyoung.

So you lie, wracking your brain for any sort of excuse.

“I can’t do my place, our oven broke down the other day.” You lie.

Wooyoung just sighs. “I guess that leaves no choice.”

That’s how you end up standing beside Wooyoung who is currently pressing in his apartment code. You roll back onto your heels and look around the hallways to give him some privacy. The walls were painted a clean white and several lights hung along the middle. Each door was stained in jacobean and a bronze number plate was screwed in the middle of them all. At the end of the really long hallway was a window that let the golden afternoon sun colour the walls a blinding goldenrod.

Crash!

You jump from the sound that came from inside the apartment while Wooyoung just sighs. He presses the last button and the machine dings open, prompting him to push open the door and reveal the ruckus inside.

“COME BACK!”

Yeonjun was scampering up from his knees, a wooden rocking horse toppled over beside him and a silicone bowl lying upside down on the hardwood floors. His hair was a mess and his blue shirt was covered in large blotches of orange stains. He had some sort of ink drawn all over his face and he looked tired.

“Uyu!”

You bring your attention to the toddler running at Wooyoung’s knees and launching herself onto them. The little girl was in an adorable pink jumpsuit and had white bows clipped into her standing pigtails. Her cheeks bounced with every excited step away from a clearly distressed Yeonjun.

Wooyoung effortlessly scoops her up in his arms and asks about whether or not she’s been a bad girl. To which the girl shakes her head at but Yeonjun’s state was more of enough of an answer.

“No no, baby. Don’t lie to uyu.” He scolds the child with a pout that mirrors hers.

You stand there behind him, shocked. Completely ignoring Yeonjun who whines and mumbles about going to clean up. You were too preoccupied with staring at Wooyoung who was currently cooing at the baby in his arms. The child stutters out something akin to an apology and that’s when it hits you.

You didn’t know Wooyoung was a dad!

“Is… that your daughter?” You try to approach it as cautiously as possible.

But when Wooyoung snaps to look at you with shocked eyes, you come to realize that you were not at all cautious with that.

“Heavens no, y/n!”

“Well, I’m sorry. I didn’t know!”

“I’m barely even twenty. My god!” He slips off his shoes and walks down into the living room; you take this as a sign to follow and proceed to struggle with kicking off your high cut sneakers (you really need to stop wearing them).

“Young fathers exist!” You counter.

“What makes you think I’m responsible enough to be a dad?” He barely even gives you a glance, only crouching down to set the baby on the ground and pull the rocking horse back up.

“You don’t seem irresponsible to me!”

He picks up the turned over bowl and sighs, scooping what he can back into the bowl before bringing it into the kitchen.

“I just started college, y/n. What kind of person wants to be a dad right at the most stressful years of their life?”

You watch as he pours the orange goop into the sink and fills up the silicone dish with water. The baby follows him around like a little puppy, switching gazes from between you and Wooyoung as your conversation carries on.

“I don’t know! Maybe you do? I don’t know...”

“But I don’t.” Wooyoung groans, damp towel in his hand and walks back to the living room.

“Well I didn’t know that! It was just a what-if scenario, you know? Gotta get rid of all the curiosity–”

“Excuse me.”

You both stop talking and turn to Yeonjun who just emerged from the hallway, hair now kempt and shirt changed into a clean white one. The pink haired male watched the two of you ‘argue’ for a good minute now and to him it was absolutely entertaining, Wooyoung walking back and forth and cleaning up the mess while you and the child trailed behind him. It looked so domestic.

“If you’re done with your lover’s quarrel, I’m just gonna go.” He walks past you three and leaves the toddler with a pat on the head before seeing himself out. “You owe me now, Young!”

You look down at the little girl who was standing by your legs, looking up at you with large glittering eyes and you can’t help but coo deep inside. It looks like she wants something from you, like her eyes are begging for something. But all you can offer her is an awkward smile.

“Lock the door on your way out!”

Wooyoung’s sigh is what breaks you out of the staring match between the kid. He walks back into the kitchen to toss the dirty towel into the sink and squeeze out the baby food soaked into it. You opt to stay back in the living room and watch as the little kid waddles up to Wooyoung and tug at his jeans.

The entire place is neat, his walls were an off white colour save for the one parallel to his window which was painted in a muted sage. On that wall stood a tall bookcase, it was filled with recipe books as well as historical and philosophical ones. The kitchen was mostly white with smoke coloured cupboards to accent it.

You could tell the place was pricey. From the moment you walked up to the building, the high structure and modern design was enough to let you know that the rent here was most likely costly. No doubt shouldered by his wealthy parents. You don’t actually know what his parents are but who cares right? As long as you’re loaded no one will care.

When Wooyoung comes back into the living room, he has the child in his arms who’s clinging around his neck and an exhausted look on his face. You were standing in the middle of the room looking around, and it was painfully awkward. You didn’t know whether you should sit down or follow Wooyoung back into the kitchen but decided against both because neither seemed right to you.

“Oh geez, where are my manners? Have a seat, y/n. Sorry you had to see all that.”

“It’s fine, I know how kids are.” You gently sit on the grey couch, rubbing your hands over the velvet material of your pants.

He sets the baby, whose name you still didn’t know by the way, down beside you and throws himself on the couch with a heavy sigh leaving his parted lips. He literally just got home but he already had to clean up one carrot baby food spill. Imagine how much Yeonjun had to clean the forty five minutes he was away.

“Pretty!”

Wooyoung looked over at where you sat, the two year old had crawled to sit beside you. She was fiddling with the dog cartoon that was embroidered into the sleeve of your sweater.

“Yes! The doggie’s so pretty.”

And she shakes her head. The confusion that just filled your eyes immediately washes away when she points a little finger up at you and repeats the word.

Wooyoung watches the two of you with adoring eyes, liking how your cheeks slowly turn red at the compliment. People need to tell you about how pretty you are more, he’d love to see you blush pink like this again. He likes when you awkwardly laugh as a distraction from the flushing of your face, mumbling a small thank you to the toddler.

“What’s your name, baby?” You change the topic.

“Oowa!”

“Uwah?” You bring your gaze up to Wooyoung for confirmation, and he just laughs.

“Her name’s Sua.” He shuffles closer to pull Sua onto his lap. “Your name is Sua, baby. Soo-wah!”

The man pokes Sua’s belly, who, in turn, lets out the sweetest giggle you’ve ever heard. Wooyoung seems to be great with kids, the thought passes your mind for a brief moment.

“She’s my neighbour’s daughter. Mr. Shim said that hiring a babysitter would be such a hassle, so I volunteered. His wife is usually busy with work so that leaves Sua to him. But sometimes he has to leave for a few errands so that’s when he leaves her with me.”

“For free?” He nods.

Sua had slipped out of Wooyoung’s hold the moment he started talking, waddling in the direction of her toys scattered on the ground.

“That’s sweet of you, Woo.”

Wooyoung ignores how warm his ears are when you call him that nickname again.

“It’s– OW!”

A pink heart shaped block bounces off the couch and clatters onto the wooden floor. Wooyoung holds his shoulder in pain and his jaw hangs low from the shock. You both snap to look at Sua who stood by the end of the sofa, a mischievous smile on her rosy cheeks and her hands fumbling with the ends of her jumpsuit.

She just threw a wooden block at Wooyoung.

“You brat!” Wooyoung hisses and jumps to run at Sua.

The child squeaks and makes a run for it, going around the coffee table in an attempt to lose him, But alas, Sua was at most three feet in height while Wooyoung was a good five foot eight. One reach over the wooden furniture and Sua was up in Wooyoung’s arms. Her feet were thrashing and her arms flailing, her squeals and giggles filled the room.

“Uyu!!”

“She calls you milk?”

You were now in the kitchen after Wooyoung had given Sua a light scolding about throwing the blocks. He also had to put an ice bag over the now forming bruise for a few minutes. The said kid was in the living room lying on some pillows on the ground and watching an episode of Baby Looney Toons. Wooyoung had a timer set on his phone for forty minutes because Sua’s dad was strict at only giving her that much screen time in a day.

“I spent two days trying to teach her how to say my name properly.” Your company huffs, scooping a cup of flour into the bowl.

“Tweety!” Came Sua’s joyful cheer from the other room upon seeing her favourite yellow canary.

“At this point I think she’s just making fun of me.”

You laugh at the pout that settles on his lips. He looked like that duckling in that one Mofy episode. His shirt gets covered in little specks of flour from how aggressively he dumped another cup into it. Wooyoung groans and tries to brush the powder off of him, which only leaves him with his black shirt dusted gray. Which reminds you,

“Why are you always dressed in black?” You ask, elbows leaning onto his white countertops and fiddling with the lemons in front of you.

Wooyoung said that Sunny asked him to test some lemon cupcake recipes that she plans on selling in the coming summer. Which is why his counter is currently covered in lemons. He took about ten from the cafe pantry the day before and looking at how they’re piled in front of him makes him believe that he didn’t get enough of the fruit.

“Why are you asking?” He pulls out a whisk from one of the drawers and starts to mix baking powder and salt into the bowl with the flour.

“Doesn’t it get hot?” You ask, watching as he momentarily leaves the dry ingredients to check on the butter and sugar he’s been beating with his sleek black (of course) standmixer.

“No.” He lies.

You frown at his obvious fib, you can see his forehead forming sweat right now. But Wooyoung doesn’t notice. Instead he’s busy with pulling up the mixer and scraping off the sides with a spatula. The kitchen falls silent, the sound of baby Bugs Bunny talking to granny floating in from the living room along with Sua’s occasional giggle.

“A little colour won’t hurt you.” You speak once he breaks an egg into the mixing bowl.

“Yes it will.” He doesn’t even spare you a glance and plucks another egg from the carton.

“No it won’t.”

Wooyoung sighs, wanting to close the topic before you two start bickering again.

“Yes it will. And I cannot, for the life of me, match colours.” He puts the mixer back down and sets it on medium. “If the colours won’t kill me then the cars running into me because they think I’m a traffic light will.”

You gasp, shocked at his analogy. With your palm over your lips, you hold back a laugh and this catches Wooyoung’s attention. He sees your eyes that are wide with shock and your shoulders are shaking and he finds it so endearing. He doesn’t know why, but everything you do is so endearing to him. Sitting by his counter in your cute snoopy sweater and your hair messily held back by a white hair clamp.

His smile grows and he shakes his head, looking back down at the two lemons he has on a cutting board. He slices each in half and squeezes its juice into the bowl of cupcake batter.

“Shit!” He suddenly hisses and you immediately stand to rush beside him.

Wooyoung had dropped the lemon juicer onto the marble and quickly sucked his index finger into his mouth.

“What happened?” You round the table and stand beside him.

“I think I got a cut.” He inspects his finger and, sure enough, there is a tiny gash down the edge of his finger.

“Yikes… I can do the lemon squeezing, if it’s okay with you?”

Wooyoung only nods at you, mumbling about how he needs his first aid kit right now. So you get to work immediately. Reading through the recipe in the ipad Wooyoung propped up in front of the mixer, you follow by squeezing the remaining lemon halves into the spinning mixer.

Wooyoung comes back into the kitchen a minute later with a small black bag that he sets on the counter beside the pyramid of lemons. He tells you to switch off the mixer as he takes a bandage and wraps it around his finger. You watch as he takes off another older bandage from his pinky finger and rubs a disinfectant over it. And it reminds you of what the school nurse told you several weeks ago.

“Why do you have so many cuts and bruises?”

Wooyoung rewraps his finger in a clean band-aid and smiles. He puts the box of bandaids and disinfectant back into the bag and gives you a teasing look.

“Why do you have so many questions?”

He almost combusts when he sees you pout and furrow your brows. The black bag is set onto the stool closest to him and he walks back to you. Wooyoung pushes a finger against your forehead, telling you to stop grouching because it’ll give you wrinkles.

“But why are you asking? Are you worried about me?”

Another flirty smirk graces his pink lips, he leans himself on the counter with his hand pressing onto the spot right beside you. Wooyoung’s face leans towards yours until your noses almost brush against one another. The smile is still so evident on his face, in fact, you think it’s gotten wider since he noticed you stepping back nervously. You can feel your cheeks burn up and your eyes immediately flit away from his face.

“Bad Uyu!” Sua suddenly shows up and throws a barbie car at Wooyoung’s sock clad foot.

“AAH! SHI– SHUA!” Luckily Wooyoung was able to catch himself before a curse flew out of his mouth.

“No scare pretty girl!” the toddler manages to speak from her limited vocabulary.

“Why you– !” Wooyoung runs after the little girl for the second time this day.

Sua’s scream fills the apartment along with the quick pattering of her feet and Wooyoung’s heavy stomps. You’re glad Sua intervened because you don’t know what would have happened if she didn’t. Wooyoung was so close to your face, you could feel his breath and smell his expensive perfume, it was intoxicating, really. The way his eyes glimmered in mischief, it also made you nervous.

“WAGH!”

You flinch when you hear a loud yelp from Sua and then the entire place goes silent. You look towards the living room but neither Wooyoung or the kid was there. From the sound of their footsteps earlier, it seemed like they ran down the corridor. Yet before you could start worrying, you hear footsteps stomp down the direction of the kitchen.

Wooyoung walks back in with the said baby in his arms. She was now chewing on a fox plush toy. At this point Wooyoung looked like he was ready to throw himself on the floor and sleep the next five years away. All traces of the flirty boy not even five minutes earlier were gone. Poof!

“Is your foot okay?” You ask when he sits on a stool in front of you.

He sighs and nods before poking Sua’s side. “They’re all because of her by the way. All the bruises and scratches.”

“I can see that.”

With the way Sua’s been the entire time you’ve been here, the idea of her giving Wooyoung all these bruises was plausible. In the past half an hour Sua had accomplished a lot of things:

1. Knock over her rocking horse

2. spill her carrot food mush

3. Ruin Yeonjun’s shirt

4. Throw various hard toys at Wooyoung.

And three out of four of the above happened before Wooyoung even opened his apartment door. The kid’s a hurricane. That and paired with all her expensive wooden and heavy toys, she’s just a recipe for disaster. But at least she was cute.

“She must be such a handful.” You reach over and twirl one of the baby’s twin ponytails.

“She can be at times, but nothing I can’t handle.” Wooyoung shifts the little girl to face him, “You’re lucky you’re adorable, huh?” he coos and nuzzles his face into her neck to blow a raspberry.

Sua giggles once more and it sounds like little angel bells, perfect for a little angel like her.

“Why don’t you tell the nurse though? She’s kinda worried about the bruises.”

Wooyoung rolls his eyes and puts Sua down when she starts thrashing her feet. She remembered the show that was currently playing in the background and wanted to see the cartoon characters make cards for their grandmother.

“Everyone thinks they’re from fights.” You recall that one conversation where San went on a “not” jealous rant about Wooyoung’s reputation.

“Which is exactly why I don’t tell them.” He hops off the stool to take the mixing bowl out the stand. You totally forgot about the cupcakes!

“They all think I’m the big buff bad guy who gets into fights on the regular.” Wooyoung pulls a cupcake tin from a cupboard and makes you hold it while he goes to scrape the batter off the sides of the stainless bowl.

“Why don’t you just tell them the truth?” you ask when you stand beside Wooyoung, placing a cupcake liner into each dip of the sheet.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Came his quick response. “Also it’s kinda boring, don’t you think?”

“Getting bruises from a two year old who throws her toys at you? As if! That’s so boring, y/n. It’s more fun to be perceived by the people to be a mysterious bad guy who no one can approach because they’re too intimidated by him and all the girls swoon for him because he’s so hot!”

You and Wooyoung had now filled an entire row with batter. A comfortable silence falls between the two of you as you continue to scoop batter into the tin moulds.

“I like the baby sitting thing more.” You say when the last mould gets filled. “It makes you sweeter to the eye.”

Putting the spoon into the bowl, he wipes his hands onto some paper towels and turns to smirk at you again. Oh god when will he stop.

“I think you’re sweeter to the eye.” He tucks a strand of your hair behind your ears.

That just blows your heart into smithereens. Every single inch of you is tingling and you don’t know what to say. How dare he say such… enticing things while tucking your hair and being so close to you. And looking that beautiful and smelling like his perfume and lemon combined and… Oh god!

“She’s right, you know?” He mumbles, eyes trained on how your wide nervous ones look up at him.

“What?”

Your voice quivered and it was enough to make Wooyoung’s heart hammer faster than it already was. Looking at you blushing because of him, in his kitchen, and your eyes were glittering under his kitchen lights. You’re so ethereal to him. From the moment you dropped all those posters in the hallway and glared cutely at him with embarrassment evident on your face. He just wanted to wrap you in his arms and coo sweet things to you forever.

“Pretty girl.” He whispers. “You’re my pretty girl.”

If he wasn’t at this close of a proximity you wouldn’t have heard him. His words made your mind short circuit and malfunction, it felt like you couldn’t move. You were stuck unmoving, your feet planted so deeply into the ground. You want to kiss him. His plump pink lips. You want to press a soft peck onto the dots he has on his face. You want to, so bad.

“The cupcakes, Wooyoung!”

But you don’t. Instead you press your palm into his face to push him away. A very nervous chuckle leaves your lips and you wish it doesn’t sound that bad. Wooyoung just smiles and steps back, satisfied with seeing you blush and smile like a little giggling girl in love.

Always open to listen to my troubles,

You were sitting in the living room with your beloved three stooges, talking about anything and everything. The entire house was buzzing with your chatter and the sizzling of your grandmother cooking pork adobo. She’s currently in a phase where she wants to recreate every single recipe she’s seen on facebook. Currently she is on the facebook page titled ‘Simpol’ and has been recreating Filipino dishes for the past week.

“Honestly, y/n. I feel like this one is my best right now.”

Yeosang gestures to the skateboard propped up on the sofa, the one you had gifted him last year. It cost quite a bit considering you hunted for one of the best quality, but it’s so worth it. Yeosang skates more often than you’d thought so you sought out for the sturdiest board in the city. You literally had to roam around the entire town alone because it was meant to be a surprise. And if you told either San or Seonghwa, you know the secret wouldn’t even last a minute before they’re texting Yeosang some cryptic shit about skateboards (yes, it has happened before).

But, but of course, what kind of best friend would you be if you didn’t add your personal touches into your gift. So you commissioned a board with Rarity from My Little Pony painted onto it. You expected him to have troubles with accepting and being happy with it, but he wasn’t. Instead he was joyed. You didn’t know why. He was so happy to see the intricately painted white pony on the bottom of the board.

“And why is that?” You play with the strands of his dark hair.

He was lying beside you on the love seat, his legs were hanging off the armrest and his head was set comfortably on your lap. Seonghwa opted to sit on the carpet in front of you (legs bent up to his chest because he can’t cross them, you don’t know why) and San perched on the armest opposite of Yeosang.

“I’ve had it for almost a year now, y/n. It’s still in perfect condition!”

“Yeah, I expected you to have broken the thing, like, two months after you got it.” San interjects, leaning his arm on the backrest of the sofa almost like he’s got his arm around your shoulders.

“I betted on one.” Seonghwa chimes from the floor.

“Duh, I only get the best for my Sangie.” You chuckle and teasingly pinch Yeosang’s cheek who responds by poking his tongue out to you.

“Yeah!”

A voice comes from the staircase and you all turn to see where it came from. Lei was walking down the last few steps, her fluffy slippers smacking against the polished wood surface. The room goes silent as she walks closer to your small bundle of friends.

“It was kinda expensive, right?” Lei makes her way past Seonghwa to stand in front of you. “I remember you saved up almost three hundred dollars for that.”

What was she doing?! Other than the fact that she just butted into your conversation and blocked your view of Seonghwa, she’s airing out private information. You hate the topic of prices and expenses when it comes to gift giving. It seems so inappropriate and insensitive to be talking about the price of a gift right in front of the recipient. Like the gift becomes insincere once money comes into the discussion. And that’s exactly what Lei’s doing!

“It wasn’t that…'' You want to say that it didn’t cost much because you don’t want Yeosang to worry (side note: it’s already too late because he’s already looking at you with worry in his eyes, but not over the skateboard), but then what if you give the impression that it’s cheap and you didn’t care to get him a good gift?

“Oh stop fibbing!” She giggles her perfect and practiced giggle and nudges at you to scooch aside.

You don’t know why she won’t just sit at the big ass couch parallel to the loveseat. There’s definitely enough space for her long legs and model proportions there. But she persists, nudging your knee with hers even harder this time.

The action knocks Yeosang off your lap and forces him to sit up. He gives Lei a nasty nasty glare but she seems to be preoccupied with making you shift over. The atmosphere is suddenly hostile as you're forced to move to the center of the seat and Lei plops down on the newly freed spot.

“I remember you were whining so much about not being able to get that one sushi platter because you had to save up for something.” She said all this while laughing, as if there was nothing wrong with it.

So there you were, squished in the middle of a loveseat that’s designed to hold two people at most. Yeosang was contemplating on leaving the couch for the floor but you beat him to it. Getting up to sit beside Seonghwa, you look up at your sister who throws glances that she wishes were discreet to San who was at her right.

The man visibly looks discomfited at the newest addition to the scene. His hands started wringing out the ends of his sweater as he looked over to the kitchen where he saw your grandmother throwing bay leaves into a pot. The scent wafts into the living room and he lets it distract him for just a moment. Anything to take his mind off the sting that came from his heart and ran through his body.

“Wasn’t she, San?”

And suddenly everyone’s alert levels flew through the roof. Yeosang straightened his back and Seonghwa glared, both ready to attack Lei if needed. The two of them had this unspoken agreement to, quote/unquote, protect you and San from the wicked witch of the west ever since that fateful day. You were shocked, to say the least. From what you know, Lei hasn’t talked to San since two months ago. So this stunt has everyone stunned.

Most especially, San.

He wants to throw up. He feels so sick. That awful feeling set in his stomach again. After months of picking himself back together, he can’t believe he feels like breaking apart again. He hates it, feeling this way whenever your sister’s around. He remembers the pain and suffering he went through all because of her. And now it’s because of her again that he wants to shrivel up into a ball and drown in the ocean. He despises how much of an effect she has on him.

San doesn’t want to respond, he’s too repulsed at the idea. And, thank god, your grandmother calls for dinner right at that moment.

“Oh! Yay!” Lei cheers. And if it wasn’t for the sweat beading at her neck, you would have thought she had not a worry in the world.

It carries on. Throughout dinner, Lei had tried to strike up several conversations with San. Even went as far as shove you out of your seat to have the one beside San. Despicable. Everyone was apprehensive and the atmosphere was tense, the only thing that filled up the air other than Lei’s desperate chattering was the clinking of utensils onto plates and glasses being set on the table.

The three of you can only watch as San fidgets in his seat, eyes panicked and flitting from Seonghwa, then to you, and finally Yeosang. It was painful, he desperately wanted to be saved, you can see it in the uncomfortable lift of his lips and the twitch his eye does.

“What’s your problem with me?!” Lei strides into your room after you. Her ears were smoking and her face was tinged red.

Dinner ended nearly an hour ago. You made sure to see San out right after the meal ended, walking him and holding him so tight he might as well have exploded. Lei made a move to follow but you shut the door in her face right before she could step out the threshold.

You stood with San on his porch, Yeosang and Seonghwa already having left after giving him their own hugs, holding your face onto his chest. His arms were wrapped around your shoulders and he sighs. You could hear his heart beating loudly in his chest, it wasn’t quick but it was strong and it made you shake.

You whispered an apology against his shirt and he just shushed you, said that neither of you expected that to happen and now that it’s over, what can you do? So he just landed a peck on your head and told you to go back, only walked through his door when he saw that you crossed the road safely. But the moment you walked in, Lei wasted not a second in following you. As you went up the stairs you heard her obnoxious stomping and huffing.

“Nothing! Leave me alone!” You shove at her shoulders to push her out of your room.

“Don’t bullshit me! I saw that! What was that about, huh?! You were looking at me like I was some scum of the earth!” She forces your door open, flinging out and the doorknob bumps against your wall.

You try to shove her voice out of your head. It was starting to hurt, all the screaming and stomping and slamming. You grab a hairband from your desk and shove your hair back out of your face, making your way to the bathroom with the intention of washing up and ignoring your sister. Who does not take how you’re acting lightly.

Lei scoffs and blocks your path to the bathroom and throws you a foul scowl. “I just want my boyfriend back!”

You’re appalled. Your sister who was borderline cheating, about to cheat, on her so called boyfriend has the gall to act like she was wronged. Like she was the victim in all this and had her boyfriend ripped from her hands. It’s baffling what sort of mental gymnastics she must have gone through to get to that conclusion.

“You’re broken up Lei! You cheated on him!” You were furious.

“It was not cheating! I did not kiss Mingi! I did not cheat!”

Wow… Just wow. Apparently to Lei cheating can only count as such once two people’s lips make contact. Fucking bravado you want to say to her face, but the words get stuck, piling and bloating in your throat. The emotions you were feeling were much too strong to be put into words.

“Yes you did!”

“Are you crazy? Did you even see us kiss?!”

“No–”

“So there it is! You said it yourself!”

And your jaw dropped. Lei seems so serious too. Like she believed every disgusting word that left her so perfect lips. Her eyes were strong and staring right into yours, wanting to strip you bare of your emotions and find you vulnerable once more. Needing for you to be weak for her. If she could just push more of your buttons then she might…

“You were cheating Lei!”

You walk around her, hoping she finally gets the idea that you want to close this conversation. The headache blooming in your head was bound to kill you if it gets egged on by your sister again.

“You’re out of your fucking mind!” But alas, she doesn’t relent.

So you huff, muscles growing weak as a symptom of the migraine, “I know what I saw!”

“You’re insane! Get out of your ass! Fucking crazy bitch!” Lei only looks at you incredulously, with her wide rounded hazelnut eyes that you always envied. You’ve always looked up at her eyes, wondered how they could be such a pretty colour, especially under the sun. But right now, all you can feel is resentment. Which perfectly mirrors the pure hatred that’s bouncing off from your sister’s irises right now.

“You can call me crazy, insane, fucking mad all you want but that won’t change the fact that your a cheating lying skank!”

Suddenly the room spins. Your vision is skewed to the right and a loud slap echoes against your walls. Your eyes get stuck on the cd neatly perched on top of your desk but your mind is filled with questions. What just happened? What was that sound? Why was your cheeks stinging so much?

Did Lei just… hit you?

“Watch your mouth, y/n. I’m still your older sister.”

You reluctantly turn your head to look up at her. You were mortified. Lei had never once lay a hand on you, it’s just not how you were raised. Your entire body was shaking like a leaf at the brim of autumn and you wanted nothing than to just fall onto the ground, brittle and vulnerable.

At this point you’re not arguing for your sake of being against your sister. Now you are fighting for San, your friend who was deceived by your sister. ‘Sister’ you want to scoff, the word tasted like bile in your mouth. You don’t even know if you want to call her that after just slapping you.

“Leave!”

You’ve had enough of her. With all your strength you push her all the way to the door, shoving her out, not caring whether she falls or not. Because, right now, all you can think of is how much it hurts. Not just the slap in the face but the shock of how your own sister could do such a thing to you. Your eyes were brimming with tears and you wanted nothing but to let them fall and cry your heart out. So you slam your door in her face. Lei had fallen onto the carpet the moment she made it through your door frame and she was looking at your trembling form with indiscernible eyes.

The tears fell when you shut the door, but you refused to let out a sob. Instead, you try to hold it back and drown them out with the sound of your side table scraping against your bedroom floor. Pushing the furniture against the door that way no one can get in. You don’t want to see anyone right now, whether it be Lei, your grandmother, or Yeosang. You needed time alone.

Your sister on the other hand was disgruntled. She didn’t mean for it to turn out this way! Now she’s even farther from getting you to forgive her, and she doesn’t want that. How will she get San back now? She ponders with her eyes trained on her laptop screen. Her fingers bring the cursor up to a bookmark she had labelled ‘for: denmark’ and sighs when she opens it.

“Is there any way I can make you think of me like how you’re thinking right now?” Wooyoung slides onto the stool beside you, a cheeky smile on his lips.

You were still preoccupied by what happened last night even after several hours had passed and you were sitting in Wooyoung’s kitchen trying to help him make focaccia bread. He had called you over earlier before class started and asked you to accompany him with making focaccia for his neighbour, Mr. Shim.

In all honesty, Wooyoung knows the focaccia bread recipe like the back of his hand. If you asked him to, he'd even bake it with his eyes closed. It was just that simple. He was really just using this opportunity to spend more time with you.

Oddly enough, Wooyoung found himself yearning for your presence more and more each day. He longs to see you wipe your sweat with your flour covered fingers and leave streaks of powder across your cheeks. He wants to hear your god awful loud laughter, that’s really not that awful at all. In fact, he actually finds your laugh enchanting and captivating. He just wants to be with you at all times, whether that be for the next hour or forever, he doesn’t care, he just wants you beside him.

But he knows he can't have that. He knows he has to pull back one day. He has to, but not now. Not when he’s having the time of his life and feeling so free. One day he might, but most definitely not today.

“Oh… sorry. What did you say? Olive oil?” You shake your head to snap out of it and move to where you remember the bottle of olive oil was.

Wooyoung for sure did not expect for you to show up at his front door with dazed eyes. Like they were lost in space, and not in the romanticized magical way, but the ones like in movies where an astronaut suddenly gets cut loose and can’t get back to the ship. You had some sort of dormant dread in your eyes and it worried him. It’s his first time seeing you like this but he already hates it, so much. He wants to wipe the worry off your face and punch whoever got you like this in the first place.

“The olive oil is right in front of you, babe.” The male grabs your forearm and pulls you back in front of him.

He was right, the rectangular bottle was right in front of you beside the cherry tomatoes. Nodding you mutter a small ‘yeah’ and reach to open the bottle. Wooyoung just watches with concerned eyes as you reach for the measuring cup, your movements were near lifeless like a ghost’s. Whatever was troubling you, it was bad. Hell, you didn’t even react to him calling you babe!

“Y/n, we already put olive oil on the dough.” He plucks the bottle out of your hand and sets it onto the counter.

With such careful hands he pulls you out the kitchen and into his living room where he sits you down and kneels in front of you. Wooyoung rubs his hands up and down your arms, the action makes your skin warm up and it’s shocking how cold you were.

“What’s wrong, y/n?”

You shake your head dismissively, trying your hardest not to burst into tears. What an embarrassment that would be. Sure it was wrong for you to call your sister a skank, and you regret saying it, even in the heat of the moment. But with everything she said to you? And then slapping you across the face.

You felt repulsed. Should you even call her your sister? Could you even call her your sister? You don’t think you have the strength to call her that, or even the strength to face her. Maybe you could have the slightest ounce of power if you got to let it out earlier with Yeosang or Seonghwa. But what can you do? They were neck deep in projects (so were you but you were emotionally drained so that was the least of your worries).

Last night you spent hours bawling on the ground, back leaning on the wooden panels of your drawer. The handles were digging into your skin and it hurt, sure, but god did your heart hurt more. Hours were spent alone, sobbing and alone in the cold air of your bedroom. You were to blame for it, actually, since you left the window wide open.

So here you are, sniffling and wiping your nose from the cold you managed to acquire. And even more when you feel the tears coming and your nose burning. You wanted to cry to someone now, you spent enough time alone. You need a hug.

Wooyoung was startled when you suddenly wrapped your arms around his shoulders. Your face was tucked under his chin as your body racked in pain. He felt your tears drip onto his skin and soak into his cells. And his blood ran cold.

“Hey, do you want to talk about it?”

You just sob, wrapping your arms tighter around him because you just want to forget. You just want Wooyoung right now, want him to engulf you and help you forget the pain.

“Let it out, babe. I’m right here.”

He’s right there for you. It’s gonna be okay.

It takes several more minutes for you to finally stop sobbing, the room overtaken with your sniffles and sighs.

“I had an argument with my sister.” You mutter, voice muddled, nasal and snotty.

Wooyoung’s shocked, because, one: he didn’t know you had a sister, two: how come he’s never heard of this sister, and three: you have a sister?

All jokes aside, it seems your argument was really bad if it upset you like this. Your relationship with your sister must be something too. He has a younger brother and he can’t imagine having a serious argument with. Of course he was six years old, but even if he imagined Kyungmin at an older age he still wouldn’t want to have that bad of a fight with him.

“I was mad at her and so I avoided her because I didn’t want to say anything that would hurt her.”

A sob shakes your body and makes Wooyoung hold you closer. Now you were both on the floor, bodies awkwardly piled on each other in an embrace.

“But then she barged in the room and started yelling at me. So I yelled back.”

A moment goes by, you contemplate on telling Wooyoung about your sister being a cheater and hitting you. But, ultimately decide against it. You don’t need to drag another innocent soul into this. Seonghwa and Yeosang were enough.

“We both said nasty things to each other and then I told her to get out.”

“I’m so sorry, y/n.” Wooyoung whispered against your hair.

At one point, you lifted your head and Wooyoung immediately cradled you back into the crook of his neck. Leaning his lips on the top of your head and giving you the slightest peck on your temple. His other hand rubs at your back and encourages you to cry.

“I haven’t talked to her since then. I’m not sure if I even want to see her.”

“I suggest you talk it out with her before the day ends. And I’m sure that the last thing you want is to see her right now, and that’s okay. But at the end of the day, she’s still your sister and always will be.”

Of course he’d say that. You don’t blame him, he doesn’t even know half of it. But that’s okay, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

Wooyoung continues, “If you want, you can stay here for the time being, we can bake that bread, watch a movie, or sleep. Whatever you want. Or if you’d rather go out, we can go get some kimchi rice balls again. But if you want to be alone it’s okay, I’ll let you. If you want to stay here, I’ll gladly leave for a couple hours for you to clear your head. It’s your choice.”

As sweet as Wooyoung’s proposals were, you’re not entirely keen on kicking him out of his own apartment. Neither are you really that sold on being alone again. The last few hours made you swear to not be alone ever again. Also, you came here with the intention of making focaccia bread for Mr. Shim and baby Sua. So you did just that.

Wooyoung talked, and talked, and talked even more all throughout the process of baking. You know he did it to distract you, and you greatly appreciated it. Somehow, with all his talking, you forgot that you were even upset at all. Especially when he told you this joke about a researcher in Antarctica.

“So, a researcher went to Antarctica to study penguins–”

“Why?”

“What? Why– I don’t know why, y/n. Let the researcher study the penguins. Anyway, he asked one penguin–”

“Penguins can’t talk–”

“Y/n! Let me tell you the damn joke! Jeez… So he asked a penguin:

‘As a penguin, you’re here all day and can’t leave. So what do you do with your time?’

The penguin answered: I eat, sleep, and hit bubbles.

The researcher thought it was weird, but he carried on to the next penguin. Mr. researcher asked the penguin the same question and it said: I eat, sleep, and hit bubbles.

Again, it was odd, but he wasn’t a penguin, so who was he to call it weird? Then onto the next penguin, he asked the same question. And can you guess the answer?”

“... Eat, sleep, and hit bu–”

“Hit bubbles! Exactly! So this goes on, and on, and on, with penguin after penguin, after penguin. Until he reaches the very last one. Took him several days, but he’s here now. One last penguin. He asks the final penguin the golden questions: What do you do all day?

And the penguin responds: I eat and I sleep.

So the researcher, confused, asked the penguin. ‘You don’t hit bubbles.’

And the penguin said: ‘My name is Bubbles.”

You cackled, downright cackled at his joke. Had to curl over the counter and wipe away the tears, because you were just laughing that hard. And Wooyoung watched, with glittered eyes, your effervescent smile. That’s what he wanted, for you to laugh so hard you couldn’t breathe. To be so happy you forget what you’re happy about but still remain joyful nonetheless. And he wants to be behind it all. Every giggle, every chuckle, or cackle. It has to be him… But he can’t. Not now, at least.

And as your laughing subsides you meet his eyes, with equal sparkles and glitter and pink powder and other things you associate with being disgustingly in love. You think that you could get used to this; leaving your troubles behind and eloping into Wooyoung’s warm embrace.

Oh no… you’ve fallen for the bad boy (which is kinda insane because bruises and black clothes do not make a bad boy).

even though you had your own problems to deal with.

“Oh before you go!” Wooyoung calls while rummaging through his fridge. “Drop this off to Seonghwa.”

He hands you a familiar pastel yellow box to deliver to your neighbour. The contents? Obviously a strawberry tart, because this is Seonghwa we’re talking about. Apparently he had been bugging Wooyoung since yesterday for a special tart because his mother’s birthday was coming up, and his mother shares the same affection for the fruit as him. Only, Wooyoung doesn’t know where Seonghwa lives. But you do.

“What if I don’t?” You joke while standing by the door, hand already on the doorknob.

“Then poor Seonghwa.” He makes a face of mock sorrow, and you laugh.

“Fine, I’ll bring it to him for his sake. I’ll see you soon.”

“And don’t forget,” Wooyoung walks closer, toes pointed to each other and space closing in on only the both of you. “Talk it out with your sister, okay?”

“Do I have to?” You whine, making Wooyoung let out an airy chuckle because he can’t believe you’re actually nineteen.

“Yes. Please, for me?”

Damn Wooyoung and his charms. Damn you for being swayed by his charms.

“Don’t come back until you’ve made up!”

And with that you were out the door, leaving Wooyoung in the apartment that felt too big for him. He sighs, the atmosphere suddenly felt way lonelier than it usually. That’s possibly what happens when you get accustomed to being in someone’s presence. Being alone no longer feels right to you.

A ring echoes through the room and Wooyoung jogs back to the kitchen where his focaccia project sat, fresh from the oven and steaming. He spots his phone on the counter beside his rice cooker and sprints to catch it before it vibrates off the marble.

“...Mom?”

“You haven’t been calling as often, Young.”

Wooyoung stands still, on his cold tiled floor, heart free falling down to his stomach, and suddenly it’s as if his thermostat just dialled down a couple degrees on its own.

“I’ve been busy, mom. You know how college is.”

“Who is it, Wooyoung?”

“Don’t come back until you’ve made up!”

Mocking Wooyoung’s words from when you left his place, you sigh, walking down the pavement with your shoes scraping on the ground. You wonder if your eyes had depuffed by themselves since crying, or if your nose was no longer red. You hope they did because you’re literally a few blocks away from home. You’re not ready to face Lei yet.

Or…

“Hi Seonghwa!”

Seonghwa opens the door to see you standing on his porch with a Sunny’s Cafe box. But that’s not what makes his brows furrow and eyes turn red.

“Have you been crying?”

It’s obvious, your eyes were puffy and your nose was red. Tell tale signs that you’ve been pouring your heart out in the previous hour. And Seonghwa knows, he’s seen you cry before, but only once has it been this bad.

“Is it that bad?”

“Why don’t you go up to my room for a bit? I’ll go get us something to eat and calll Yeosang?”

Crap! You don’t want to tell them about what happened; it might probably burden them even more. And you’re a hundred percent sure that if you’re alone in a room with them, you’ll definitely burst. But this is a perfect chance to stall the confrontation with Lei.

So which will it be? …

“What happened?” Yeosang mutters against your hair.

He has you wrapped up in his limbs on Seonghwa’s bed. The minute he got a text regarding you crying, he was running down the street. It’s been a while since you cried like that but this time Yeosang doesn’t know why.

So here you are, cuddling under the sheets while Seonghwa prepares some chicken nuggets. Your head is tucked into Yeosang’s shoulder and your arms hold him tight against you, like it was your birth right to be in his arms (it probably was).

When you don’t respond, Yeosang takes it upon himself to ask.

“Is it because of Wooyoung?”

He knows you went to Wooyoung’s place today, he heard your conversation. Well if you could call Wooyoung yelling at you across the hallways to meet him at the front gate a conversation. It made him feel icky, though. When he heard the black haired male scream out your name and address you as ‘babe’. He didn’t feel right. But this isn’t about him!

You shake your head softly and he sighs, the room falling back into silence once more.

“Lei…”

And Yeosang’s ears perk up. Lei? What did she do this time?

You didn’t intend on telling them today. Not the day right after, maybe a week later if you could. Screw your inability to ever shut up in front of Yeosang. But now that you started it, might as well just tell him.

“She hit me.”

Balls to the wall. That’s all you can say. Watching your two friends angrily pace across the carpet, heads smoking and eyes ablaze. Terrifying. That’s only after they calmed down, it was way worse five minutes earlier.

“She what?!” Seonghwa fumed from the doorframe (a comical sight actually, with his pink frilly apron and tray of chicken nuggets).

“Are you okay?” Yeosang cups your face, checking your puffed red eyes and tear stained cheeks. Oh he’s gonna kill Lei.

“I need to have a word with her.”

And before your best friend could storm out the door, you latch onto him and fling his body back onto the bed.

“That filthy fucking cheating bitch.”

“I can’t believe she’d do that.”

Honestly, I think it’s funny how my view of you flipped once I got to know you. And I’m really glad I did.

You haven’t seen Lei in two days. Good! Yeosang would chime, claiming about not wanting to see that wretched hag any time soon. It can’t be helped, she’s usually not at home or holed up in her room. That along with Yeosang insisting that he’ll keep you by his side no matter what. Keep you away from the evil Maleficent dragon that was your sister.

And thus monday comes around, Yeosang was busy with his pottery class (one of his newer impulse ideas he deeply regrets due to a multitude of things), San busy with bashing his head against the table trying to finish his presentation on ‘The Evolution of the Human in relation to Architecture’. And Seonghwa… he was probably off Seonghwa-ing somewhere. Leaving you all alone.

Sike! You didn’t forget about Jung Wooyoung, did you?

So there you sat with Wooyoung, on the rooftop under the beating three pm sun, the dust forming a peach shaped gray area around your bum on your black cargo pants. But you don’t care, you’re way too busy watching Wooyoung’s eyes sparkle as he talks about how he had to watch baby Sua all weekend. The baby couldn’t seem to stop asking about you, “pretty girl, where?” she’d ask Wooyoung.

“Aww she missed me?” You cooed.

“You bet she did.” Wooyoung grumbles, taking a sip from the can of cold brew you brought up for him.

He sat in front of you, the same peach shaped gray patch on his pants as yours. His chains dangle and clink on the concrete and it makes a calming background noise with the far away traffic and the chirping birds.

The man called you up here for a reason, and he needs to talk about it soon or else his mom will find out. But he doesn’t want to yet. He wants to talk to you more, look deeper into your pretty eyes. To be honest, he was actually just stalling, talking about Sua and his job to keep you beside him. Rather risky of him to choose to meet up on the rooftop huh.

The cold brew runs smoothly down his throat, cold and strong. And he looks back at you thinking of something else to say.

“So how are you and your sister?”

You freeze.

Fuck. What do you say? You told him you’d go talk to her but you kind of didn’t. In your defence, Yeosang kept you away from her all weekend. So you couldn’t exactly talk to her. It’s not like you wanted to anyway. But you can’t tell Wooyoung that! So you do what you do best.

“We’re good!”

Lie.

“That’s great! I can’t imagine being in a fight with my brother, it’d hurt so much. But I’m glad you’re both okay.”

This isn’t good, you mutter in your mind. The smile Wooyoung gives you is so genuine and sincere, it makes you feel guilty for lying to him. You bite your tongue, forcing a flat smile and nodding along with him. Hopefully he doesn’t notice.

Thankfully he doesn’t, his attention being snatched by the ping from his pocket. He fishes his phone out from his back pocket, illuminating his face in the bluish tint of his lockscreen. It was a picture of you two by the way, he claims it’s for the sake of your friendship. Saying that it gives you bragging rights for managing to snatch the campus heartthrob as your best friend.

It’s crazy how far your relationship with him has gotten in just a few months. You went from complete strangers to friends who both have a bad habit of toeing over the line every once and a while. What’s crazier is that, in the midst of this mess between you and your sister, you managed to find someone to love. Yes love. You can say that now. Well maybe not out loud, you’d rather say like.

You can admit freely and confidently that you like Wooyoung. And you know he likes you too. Call it assuming, delusion, false hope or whatever, you don’t care. You’re fully confident of how he feels.

And watching him right now, eyes focused on his phone, irises reflecting the dark screen, you think he looks beautiful.

Wooyoung looks back at you, catches you with the cutest expression he’s ever seen. Like you’re in love with him. Your eyes, bright, wide and looking up at him and him only. If he looks closer he’ll probably see planets in your eyes as if they hold the universe. And he just gets this overwhelming urge to kiss you.

Your lips were always glossed, cherry flavoured. He knows because he’s seen your tube of cherry gloss peek out from your pencil case several times. Wooyoung wants a taste. Always wanted to since he met you. Been holding back for months now… and he thinks for a moment longer.

It’s not like he’ll be seeing you again after this.

Suddenly your back is against the floor, you have half the mind to run your mouth about your jacket getting dirty. You remember finding the cropped letterman chucked in the bottom of one of the bins at the thrift shop and you swear you almost ripped the arm off the other person who reached for it. But all your words get stuck in your throat when your vision gets clouded with Wooyoung.

His face hovers a mere inch above yours and his nose bumps against yours subtly. You try to look into his eyes but his are connected to your lips. And he gulps, causing you to gulp back. Nerves getting jittery and breath shallow with how he’s slowly moving closer.

And when his lips finally manage to graze yours, it’s as if something within him snaps.

“Fuck it.”

Wooyoung’s lips fall on yours. The big heavy burden on the man’s shoulders suddenly feels lifted and out of the way. His stomach is both tight and empty and full at the same time. It’s all so confusing and complicated but Wooyoung doesn’t mind. In fact, he likes the feeling; it makes his skin tingle and fingers wiggle in glee.

You kiss him back, obviously. It’s a no brainer that if Jung Wooyoung would kiss you, you would most definitely, with no hesitation, kiss back. Your lips dance together, against one another to the symphony of Wooyoung’s chains and the bicycle bells that ring from outside campus. Wonderfully synced as if it was practiced.

Each and every ounce of Wooyoung’s emotions is poured onto your lips, barely evan gasping for air before diving back in. Like he has so much to say to you with such little time. Then his tongue swipes against your lower lip and, mindlessly, your lips part. The pink muscle slithers into your and grazes over yours just a smidge, that’s when Wooyoung suddenly gasps and pulls back.

“Shit… I’m sorry. I got carried away.” Came his rushed apology.

Wooyoung leans back to sit on his heels and he pulls you up to sit, still dazed and flustered. God, you look so cute with your red cheeks and pink tinted lips. Your lipgloss was smudged off and he can feel remnants of it on his own lips. They taste too artificial, he should tell you to change lip gloss brands.

“It’s alright…”

Your lips feel like they’ve been struck by Zeus himself, you can’t help but to trace over your lips with your fingers. The very lips that Jung Wooyoung (the man in front of you) just kissed! You feel like floating, like if you jumped off the ledge right at this moment you’ll start floating like toddler balloons in fiestas.

A full minute goes by with your eyes stuck on Wooyoung’s. He breaks away first, shifting his gaze down to the hand that you have perched on your knee. The dark haired male watches as the plastic rings you have glimmer in the sunlight. Cute.

“What was that about?” Your voice was teasing, airy, and light.

Wooyoung feels relieved for a brief moment, letting out a sigh and finally reaching to hold your hand. His fingers play with yours and twist the glittered rings around.

“I don’t know… I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I liked it.”

You move to shift when Wooyoung falls back to land on his bum, sitting beside him with your hand awkwardly still in his. It goes quiet, you can no longer hear his chains noisily clinging and clanging or the cats and dogs having a singing competition. Nothing in your ears but the quick paced beating of your own heart. And the sound of a tape rewinding and replaying the kiss that happened just moments ago.

“Good.” He mumbles mindlessly. Fingers still tracing the lines of your palms, making sure to diligently follow each curve and wrinkle. Just to engrave the feeling of it in his mind. He wants to savour it all. Soak it in like they do with the warm beach sun.

“Then what does this make us?”

Your question cuts through the silence. The daze in your head slowly fades and you begin to hear the traffic of the city. The once singing dogs were now barking, no sense of rhythm or melody at all. Yet with all that noise, Wooyoung remains quiet. Silently staring at your smaller palm in his. And he smiles.

“Nothing.”

Silence.

“Nothing?” You repeat.

Wooyoung tries to give you a response but can’t seem to find his voice. So he settles with a nod. And when you ask him why a few moments later, he can’t say anything. Because he has nothing to say about it. Hell, he wants to scream and cry that it was a lie. That he wants you, he wants to kiss you again, hug you, hold your hand! Everything!

When he tries to look up at you, his gaze is apprehensive. Scared to see your face. Scared to hear your reaction. Scared to be the reason behind your tears. He can’t meet your eyes.

“Why, Wooyoung?”

As much as he loves hearing his name tumble from your lips, he hates it when you say it like this. Downhearted, muffled with the tears you're holding back.

“It was a mistake. I don’t like you like that.” He lies, and as the words leave his lips they burn his tongue with such pain he has to wince.

You’re sitting there with your hand in his (funny how you still haven’t pulled away from his touch). But you know he’s lying. He likes you. You know it. You just don’t know why he’s being difficult right now. Why won’t he just admit it?

“What the fuck?”

Your words weren’t angry, they weren’t even the slightest bit spiteful; instead, they were spoken calmly. Wooyoung now looks into your eyes and realizes he was wrong. There were no tears in your eyes, instead they only held confusion. But, why?

“Wooyoung, you don’t kiss someone like that if you don’t like them.”

Shit, he’s been caught.

“And if you do, then you’re a fucking sick person to be playing with my feelings like that.”

“I’m not lying!” He tosses your hand away and stands. “I really don’t see you like that.”

“Bullshit!” You follow his lead and block the doors back into the building. If there’s one thing you learned all the years, it’s to be more persistent; stop being a pushover and have people walk over you. Stand up.

“Wooyoung be fucking honest with me.”

The boy in front of you looks conflicted. His eyes running away from yours and his stance is sheepish. Not like the Wooyoung that you know who’s confident, loud, and flamboyant.

He’s scared.

Your gaze softens and you sigh. What are you gonna do with him?

“Sorry, for exploding on you.” The dark haired male stiffens when you cup his cheek with such tenderness and his skin heats up when you run your thumb back and forth across his skin. “You know you can be honest with me, right? I won’t hate you.”

A long silence engulfs the two of you and you begin to think that Wooyoung doesn’t want to talk. But when you open your mouth to speak, he cuts you off.

“My mom…”

“Who is it, Wooyoung?”

“Mom, I told you. College has been very–”

“I’ll ask you once more. Who is it, Jung Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung’s palms turn cold and he holds back from gulping. He knew this day was coming, he could never hide anything from his mother. Yet why did he think he could pull this one off. Was it because he yearned too much for you?

The line goes silent for a moment too long and the boy can pick up a sigh from the other end. A pen can be heard scribbling on a piece of paper and he concludes that his mom is either writing a check or clearing her schedule to book a flight back to Korea.

“Is it a girl?”

“Mom, I–”

“Did you forget about your promise?”

Wooyoung falls silent again, standing in his kitchen with clenched fists and shallow breaths. Of course he remembers, how could he forget when his mother reminds him ever so often with a passive aggressive threat whenever he calls. Sometimes he wishes he was just born into a normal family. Not this.

“You promised that you’ll take over the company.”

He wishes he wasn’t born into a family fueled by money and living off of nepotism. He wishes he doesn’t have to be the heir to their culinary branch. He wishes he was free. He doesn’t want to be a boring CEO of some boring food company. Even if cooking was his passion, the burden would be too much for him to live with.

He was seven when he first made that promise to his mother. She was reading him some fantasy fairytale and he grimaced at the idea of the prince breaking his back for a measly princess. As what typical seven year old boys think, girls have cooties so why does he have to be with girls? He remembers wrapping his pinky to his mother’s and declaring that he will only care for his mother and no other woman forever! Before placing a gentle kiss on her cheek and falling asleep.

The second time he muttered that promise was when he was sixteen. He broke that said promise four months prior, finding himself a girlfriend for the first time and he was over the moon. But first loves are never your last. Now Wooyoung sat in his mother’s arms crying his heart out, replaying his girlfriend-turned-ex’s words in his head.

‘Forget that stupid bet, I can get way more than twenty dollars from Wooyoung.’

That’s when Wooyoung realized that people go crazy for money. It’s their only want. And Wooyoung lives off of money. He can only be wanted for his money.

And when he was eighteen, his mother sat him down and told him that he was the next heir to their company. He thought that it would only be his older brother who’d be tasked with that burden. But with his father’s more recent removal, he understands.

“That’s what happened to you father. Look where he is now.”

‘Never be tempted by love, Young-ah’ his mother had muttered to him, her head in the crook of his neck while he rubs her back in comfort. Tears streamed down his mother’s beautiful face and her voice was thick and heavy with pain and heartbreak. His eyes cast to the floor where his father’s belongings lie tattered and thrown across the room. All thanks to the fit of rage his mother had upon hearing news of her husband leaving her for his younger, ‘sexier’ secretary.

“Married to a whore who cheats on him more times than he eats breakfast.”

He swore to himself that he would never, ever, even in the slightest bit, be similar to his father. He’d focus on his future and make his mother proud. Never see such a heartbreaking expression on her face that he takes after.

And even until now, he’d hate to be the cause of such emotions in his mother. But he knows you’re not bad for him. You’ll never bring any negative light to his life. And he's torn because he wants to have you so badly, but he wants to make his mother proud too.

“Can I atleast get an update on Kyungmin before you hang up?”

“He’s still at kindergarten, I’ll call again by seven tonight and you can talk to him.”

“Okay. Thanks, mom.” Wooyoung mutters into the receiver.

A sigh rings from the speaker and half a moment passes before the woman speaks again.

‘Wooyoung, you know I only–” “Do this for the family. I know, mom. I hate dad too, it’s just…”

Wooyoung bites his lip, nervous.

“Nevermind.”

The sound of his clock ticking is audible in the silence that settled over the mother and son’s call. Both are too apprehensive to talk. But it’s Mrs. Jung who speaks up again.

“Okay. Love you, Young-ah.”

“Yeah.. love you, mom. Bye.”

And then the line beeps off.

“I’m sorry…”

You stand there, shocked. Who wouldn’t be? Right after the guy you like just kissed you and then spilled all his family secrets in the span of five minutes.

“I’m telling you this because…” Wooyoung runs a frustrated hand through his dark hair and huffs. “I don’t know. I just started talking and I couldn’t stop and– I’m sorry.”

“Wait let me get this straight. You made a promise to your mother that you’d– what? Focus on your career? That’s what I’m getting.”

“Well, basically… yeah.”

“So you know that you can’t be in a relationship?”

Wooyoung goes quiet.

“Then what was that all about?! You decided you’d just spend time and effort to make me fall in love with you in a few months? Because that’s what you did, Wooyoung.” Your tone remained hush but tense, argumentative even.

“That wasn’t my intention! I just– I just thought you were nice and cool and I wanted to just be your friend at first, I swear. But then I started seeing you more often and I had this urge to be by your side. To make you smile and bake together with you. Share my interests and learn more about yours, because, god fucking dammit, that’s just the effect you have on me. You’re so funny, and pretty and perfect that I couldn’t help it. It’s selfish, I know and I’m sorry.”

At this point Wooyoung’s voice has gotten down to just a whisper and he leans his head into the crook of your neck. Arms slowly circling around your waist to pull you into a hug. His breath tickles your neck and makes the hairs on your skin stand.

“I just thought… maybe if I could be selfish just this once.”

The poor boy’s just breaking your heart now, with his solemn voice and tight grip around you. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and squeeze him back. In return, Wooyoung nuzzles deeper into your skin, taking in the scent that he’ll miss and long for for days on end.

“But I can’t. Not this time.” the man in your arms speaks after a minute of tranquillity, loosening his hold on you. His eyes are rimmed with shiny tears that he’s so desperately holding back, not wanting to cry in front of you. Because no matter how emotionally vulnerable he’s been already, he still has a big man ego.

“Anyway, my mom’s coming to terminate my enrollment.” Wooyoung pulls away, quickly rubbing his wrists to his eyes, hoping to discreetly wipe away his tears.

And you're baffled. What?

“My mom’s gonna transfer me to California so she can keep an eye on me. She said that there are better opportunities there.”

No… He can’t leave.

“That’s why I called you up here to talk. And I know it’s crazy and rushed but I didn’t know how else to tell you. Also because my mom’s gonna arrive in a noisy chopper in a few minutes and told me to meet her at the landing pad.

Oh damn you didn’t notice the landing pad there… has your campus always had a landing pad? First an elevator now this?

“So… that’s it? You plan to kiss me and then leave?”

His face is splashed with guilt.

“I didn’t plan on kissing you, it was just so overwhelming. It could be a little parting gift from you to me.” He tries to lighten the situation with a soft giggle. One that’s oh so soft and tickles your ears when you hear it.

You should be mad at him (for what exactly, you’re not sure), but you’re not. How could you when he’s suffering too?

“I’m sorry, Wooyoung. That you have to go through this. You don’t deserve it.”

And Wooyoung wishes he was like you. Selfless. Even at this point with both your hearts on your sleeves you’re still selfless. You’re still putting him first, taking his feelings into consideration before thinking about your own. It’s admirable, really, Wooyoung thinks.

“No. I’m sorry for dragging you into this. You don’t deserve this.” He mutters, head hanging down in shame, dark hair draping over his face like blackout curtains.

“Oh, nonsense. If this didn’t happen then I wouldn’t have met you, or had any of your crazy delicious test recipes. Are you saying I didn’t deserve any of that?” You tease, reminiscing the memories with Wooyoung at Sunny’s cafe or at his apartment. Every minute spent with Wooyoung flashed in your mind like a slide projector.

“You deserve to be happy.”

“And you made me happy, Wooyoung. Way happier than before we met. Thank you.”

Wooyoung may not know the full picture but that’s fine. He’ll leave without a heavy heart, that’s the least you could give him after all the happiness he has provided you.

The scene falls quiet again, save for the, you guessed it, traffic in the near city. Cars humming and honking, it serves as white noise to you and Wooyoung. Both of you are still standing toe-to-toe, fingers gingerly grazing each other and noses so close to bumping.

“I really want to kiss you again.” This time it’s you who asks. “Can I be selfish? You can say no.”

Wooyoung’s soft chuckle rings through the air, “Yes.” It’s all I’ve been all this time, he wants to say but holds his tongue.

When your lips make contact with his, it’s not as sudden and shocking as it was earlier. But it still holds the same amount of emotions. Conveying everything you want to say; ‘don’t go… please just stay with me.’ And Wooyoung responds with every ounce of passion within him, as if saying ‘I want to. I want to stay.’

“I’m sorry…”

You stand there, shocked. Who wouldn’t be? Right after the guy you like just kissed you and then spilled all his family secrets in the span of five minutes.

“I’m telling you this because…” Wooyoung runs a frustrated hand through his dark hair and huffs. “I don’t know. I just started talking and I couldn’t stop and– I’m sorry.”

“Wait let me get this straight. You made a promise to your mother that you’d– what? Focus on your career? That’s what I’m getting.”

“Well, basically… yeah.”

“So you know that you can’t be in a relationship?”

Wooyoung goes quiet.

“I just thought… maybe if I could be selfish just this once.”

“Anyway, my mom’s coming to terminate my enrollment.” Wooyoung pulls away, quickly rubbing his wrists to his eyes, hoping to discreetly wipe away his tears.

And you're baffled. What?

“My mom’s gonna transfer me to California so she can keep an eye on me. She said that there are better opportunities there.”

No… He can’t leave.

Oh damn you didn’t notice the landing pad there… has your campus always had a landing pad? First an elevator now this?

“So… that’s it? You plan to kiss me and then leave?”

His face is splashed with guilt.

You should be mad at him (for what exactly, you’re not sure), but you’re not. How could you when he’s suffering too?

“I’m sorry, Wooyoung. That you have to go through this. You don’t deserve it.”

“No. I’m sorry for dragging you into this. You don’t deserve this.” He mutters, head hanging down in shame, dark hair draping over his face like blackout curtains.

“You deserve to be happy.”

“And you made me happy, Wooyoung. Way happier than before we met. Thank you.”

Wooyoung may not know the full picture but that’s fine. He’ll leave without a heavy heart, that’s the least you could give him after all the happiness he has provided you.

“I really want to kiss you again.” This time it’s you who asks. “Can I be selfish? You can say no.”

Wooyoung’s soft chuckle rings through the air, “Yes.” It’s all I’ve been all this time, he wants to say but holds his tongue.

“Babe, you’re gonna have to leave before I change my mind and hide from my mother like a fugitive.”

He pecks your cheek once before turning your body and gently nudging you towards the door.

“Goodbye, Wooyoung. I love you. I hope to see you soon.”

“I hope to see you soon, y/n. I love you.”

Next thing you know, the metal doors are clanging shut behind you and you feel your eyes well up with tears. Walking down the stairs with blurry eyes, you take in each step and remember how when you first met Wooyoung he dragged you down the exact same steps and nearly killed you. Or when you used the elevator for the first time and you were enamoured by his charms and his laugh.

When you walk down the hallway you think about when you first laid your eyes on Wooyoung and how he laughed at the stack of papers in your hands. It all started with a stupid inflated condom poster. Now here you are, walking across the field where you got a bloody nose from that damned kid Choi Jongho. And it was Wooyoung who helped you up.

The sound of a helicopter flying by your head catches your attention and you look up to see exactly that. A black helicopter chuffing past you and onto the building’s rooftop.

Thank you for the new memories and for showing me places I’ve never seen before. Stay kind Wooyoung,

Claire Standish.

*우유 (uyu = ooyoo) is milk in korean

dishes and recipes (minus the tarts & cupcakes) mentioned are from doobydobap (uni steak pot rice, cha shu don, kimchi cheese rice balls, mango bingsoo)

if you enjoyed this, then please consider rebologging! i would appreciate it a lot especially since tumblr isn’t as kind to writers, so a little rb would go a long way! thank you!

thank you so much for reading, have a great day <3