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𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬

nonidol!kang yeosang x f!reader

yeosang doesn't remember your name, but he remembers what kissing you tastes like and how you like your eggs in the morning. just your regular prince charming trying to find his cinderella, or in this case, his passenger princess..?

9.5k (lord.....), nc-17, s2l, frateez au, college au, mentions of alcohol, swearing, kissing, humor, fluff, minimal angst, another cinderella story au/trope(?), drama (i bring i bring all the drama-ma-ma-ma), a girl who is not a girl's girl :l, the barest of proofreading

a/n: this is for the @atzhouse you can't outrage us event! guys if the flirting is lackluster, it's cuz im running out of rizz

“I don't believe you.”—

The last place you expected to end up was in the front seat of some guy's white Lexus while the party raged on inside the ATZ fraternity house just down the street. According to him, he had to run out just before the crowd rolled in, and when he got back, somebody had snatched his parking spot.

—“Okay, but why don't you believe me?”—

The car smelled not like fresh leather, but an enchanting mixture of something like pine and smoked wood. Bitter, yet somehow, refreshing. You bet, even as the alcohol was hitting you, that it was what he smelled like.

His name was Yeosang—the guy sitting next to you in the driver's seat, the owner of this car, and the ATZ fraternity brother you bumped into at his house's own party. That had been just about twenty minutes ago when you'd ended up isolated from your pack of friends, and Yeosang had needed a desperate breather. It seemed he'd been running from someone (question mark), so you asked if he knew where the kitchen was. Eager to get away from whoever it was, he guided you straight to the kitchen and where the secret stash of flavored sojus were.

An offhand comment about wishing you didn't have to miss this one drama episode dropping tonight led to a longer conversation about the dramas you both enjoyed, which somehow landed you in his passenger seat.

The rest was history. Or—you supposed the rest was now.

“Because,” Yeosang said in a tone that sounded a lot like he was saying 'duh’, “you don't look like a biology major.”

He was gorgeous, even if the lighting in the party and out here was jack shit. The way the shadows cut across his face made him look like a faerie torn straight out of one of your old sketchbooks. You were half certain he had pointed ears beneath the cat-eared beanie he wore, but maybe that was just the alcohol doing its thing.

You sputtered out a laugh as he knocked back another gulp of his melon soju. He was more drunk than you were, maybe not by too much because that wouldn't have been fair, but it did take him seven tries to unlock his car seven minutes ago. “What's a bio major s'posed to look like?”

“Mmm…” he hummed, lips pressed together in a line that dug into his cheeks. “Not you.”

It only made you laugh harder. It wasn't even that funny. “That doesn't even make sense!”

“Does it have to make sense?” He squawked. His face shuddered for a moment as if he just experienced a glitch. “I forgot what I was gonna say, but it's the vibe.”

“The vibe,” you parroted in mild amusement. After you swallowed down your next gulp of soju, you gestured to him with the bottle, “Okay, now what about you? Your major, go.”

“I read shit.”

“Who doesn't?”

“Jared, 19,” he replied, dead serious.

Equally serious, you asked with wide eyes, “Really?”

He gave you an emphatic nod back. Really. Now, if you were a little less tipsy, you wouldn't have taken what he said at face value, but tonight was already miles away from your regularly scheduled program.

You pondered on that—the “I read shit,” not the misfortunes of one nineteen year old named Jared. “So if you read a lot of shit, does that make you a literature major? No, wait! I got it; you look like Comparative Lit.”

“Bingo,” he cheered, raising his bottle up into the air. “Wait. What do you mean I look like a comparative lit major? What does a comp lit major even look like?”

“I dunno, but it’s you.”

He pursed his lips into a deadpan at your callback to what he'd said before, and you merely stuck your tongue out at him like the mature adult you were. “Touché, my friend. Touché…”

Silence passed between you two for the first time since you met each other. In the distance, you could hear the muffled sounds of the party raging on. It wasn't that you didn't go to parties often; it was more so that you usually went to house parties hosted by friends or friends-of-a-friend. Making it all the way to Greek Row was not something you did every weekend, but a mutual friend—Chungha—knew the ATZ president and got you and your friends in.

Nearly finished with his third bottle (or was it his fourth?...), Yeosang knocked the remainder down his throat with a grimace. With the empty bottle, he set it at his feet on the car floor to join another—the cup holders were already occupied with yours and his second rounds. The first was abandoned on the frat house lawn somewhere.

“I think—” he slurred, blinking slowly at you like a cat, “—that you look like an artist.”

“An artist?” You parroted dumbly and felt warmth rise to your cheeks. “And why would you say that? Vibes?”

“Well, yes!”

You sputtered out a laugh at the way he said that. “Then yes, I am an artist,” you said, emphasizing the latter half of the word so it sounded like “teest” and not “tist.”

Yeosang gave a hoot. “I'm so good at this. Does that—does that mean you can paint me like one of your French girls?” He pulled his lips into an adorable, little smile, the back of his hand poised beneath his chin as he fluttered his lashes.

“I don't think I could do you justice,” you admitted. There was a rather annoying buzz at the back of your brain that was distracting you. With a shake of your head, you refocused your gaze on him. “You're too pretty.”

He preened at the compliment, unconsciously reaching up to adjust his beanie. “Like calls to like then.”

“What does that mean?” Your buzzed-out brain couldn't compute—

“It means that prettiness is attracted to prettiness, and I'm attracted to you.”

You whined, burying your face in your hands. Yeosang giggled to himself, incredibly proud at making you flustered, his knees curling upward to kick his feet in the cramped space. “I don't like you.”

“You don't?”

“No,” you raised your head up with a displeased frown, only to see that his eyes seemed to be twinkling with unrestrained happiness and something else. You weren't in the right state to hyper-analyze the way he looked at you, but it made your heart skip more than just a beat. “It's not fair that you're a literature major.”

“But I'm drunk,” he said innocently.

“That's even worse!”

He grinned boyishly at you, bashfully stretching his limbs and then cupping the back of his neck with a hand. “What if I told you I'm minoring in math?”

You deadpanned. “I don't think that makes me feel any better. You rule both the realms of words and numbers.”

“It doesn't mean I'm good at math,” he guffawed, leaning back in his seat. “It's only there 'cause my mom's a math teacher, and having a math minor makes my parents feel better.”

That sounded familiar… awfully familiar. The thought made you sober a bit, and it seemed your counterpart wasn't so wasted that he didn't notice the shift either.

“Uh oh,” he chuckled nervously, “what'd I say?”

You waved your hand around dismissively. “Oh, it's nothing. I'm kind of the opposite—my bio major is sort of to appease my parents and the fine art minor is for my sanity.”

He pressed his lips into a line, nodding in understanding. “Ah, I see,” he drawled. “So you don't… you're not happy? With what you're doing, I mean.”

Maybe it was the way he asked it, but it made the cogs in your head turn. You bit your lip. “I'm happy-ish. It's kind of a lot, but I'll survive.”

“'m sorry I upset you,” he pouted. “But,” he stammered, swallowing, “but I get it. My parents never wanna talk about my major anymore. Pretty sure they're just bitter and disappointed. I always feel like I’m walking on eggshells around them.”

You could tell that it affected him more than he wanted to admit. You wordlessly passed him your half-drunk bottle, and he gladly took a generous sip. When it was back in your hands, you guzzled down the remainder.

The buzz was getting better.

“Well, if they're not proud of you, I am,” you declared, setting the empty bottle at your feet. Your eyes blinked slowly for a moment as you got your bearings again. Maybe… maybe you should stop drinking! Yes, that would be the smart thing to do.

Yeosang hummed. “Thanks,” he said with a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He gazed over at you from his side of the car. “I'm proud of you, too. You'll be happy one day; it'll always turn out okay, Yn-ie.”

Something warm and fuzzy settled in your chest, like a cat had just curled up there, purring and content.

A thought suddenly popped into your head. “Yeosang, how do you like your eggs?”

He snorted and burst into laughter, coaxing a similar expression out of you. A moment later, you were trying your best to pout at him, “Hey! Don't laugh! I hear it's all the rage on the pick-up line scene.”

“You're trying to pick me up?” He giggled. All memories of the previous topic flew out the car window.

“Well, is it working?”

He licked his lips around a smile, leaning over the center console to rest his cheek against his fist. “Ask me again.”

You took another sip of your soju before returning it to its cupholder. “Okay. Yeosang, how do you like your eggs in the morning?”

“However you'd like them.”

You deadpanned, and that only made him laugh louder. His head tilted back so you caught a glimpse of his canines, before he brought himself back down to Earth. His cheeks looked as flushed as you felt—even in the dim streetlight you could make out the blooms of peony pink across his cheekbones. “Yeo.”

He reached over to pat your head a couple times, though the sloppiness of his movements made it feel closer to two affectionate smacks. “Okay okay. Sorry. How about we say it at the same time?”

“Okay.” That wasn't a bad compromise.

“Okay, one, two, three—”

“Sunny-side up,” you both said at once.

Your eyes and his eyes widened at once, gasps of delight sounding into the quiet car. Could this guy be any more perfect?

“You're not bluffing?” You asked with narrowed eyes.

Yeosang shook his head vigorously. “Mm-mm. I wouldn't lie to you, Yn-ie. Scout's honor,” he slurred, holding his hand up as if he was a boy scout.

You giggled at the gesture, and he broke form to melt into an ooey gooey puddle of liquefied butterflies. For a moment, he just stared at you with a strange look on his face, one that you couldn't quite place when you were in this inebriated state.

You chuckled, shifting your position when one leg started falling asleep. “What’s wr—?”

He leaned forward and—oh. Oh. Those were—his lips were on yours. He had leaned over the console and kissed you. He was kissing you.

And when you didn't kiss him back, he drew backwards, an embarrassed expression painted over the adorable flush on his cheeks. “That—I shouldn't have done that, should I? I'm sorry; I dunno what I was—”

You crushed your mouth against his this time, effectively stealing the apology right off his tongue. He tasted like melon soju, and his touch was gentle as he brought his hand up to cup the side of your face, cradle your jaw. He was tracing the outline of your features in the dark like he could sketch them in the lines in his mind.

He tasted like the color of amber, warm and bright, but not blindingly so. He was mellow and sweet, with the undertones of the burnt wood in his cologne.

You melded your lips against his mouth like you could engrave him into you, and you were practically half over the middle console already. Yeosang's free hand fumbled backward to find the button on the side of his chair—there. The chair began moving backward with a monotonous brrr sound, and as it moved you couldn't quite keep your lips physically attached to his.

You disconnected from him for what felt like an eternity in order to climb over—shoes knocking against empty soju bottles, ass nearly bumping the horn—and with some clumsy, awkward maneuvering, you were on him again, this time quite literally. You tumbled into his lap, his hands landing on either side of your waist and your hands bracing against the back of his chair.

He loosened a soft groan with the return of your lips to his, and he hauled you down closer to him, until your chests were pressed flush against one another and you couldn't tell which heartbeat was who's. His beanie fell off at some point, but your fingers buried themselves within the dark, silken mass of his hair, a hat in their own right.

When you both pulled away for breath, your chests heaved in tandem to catch it. You settled your cheek against his shoulder while you inhaled the smell of his cologne, much stronger now that you sat against his chest with your nose by his throat. His hand warmed the small of your back with the other cupping the back of your head in an affectionate cradle.

“I don't think I've ever kissed someone like that,” you admitted into the quiet. You suddenly couldn't hear the muffled music blasting from the party in the background anymore.

“Me neither,” he replied, voice hoarse from the kiss. “I've never met someone like you before.”

“Never in your life?”

“Never in my life.”

“So let me get this straight,” drawled Wooyoung with both hands poised at his temples, eyes screwed shut against the bright morning light coming in through the window. There were currently eight people crowded onto President Hongjoong's bed at a time that was far too early to be alive for a group of people who partied until four in the morning. “You're saying that you know this girl's family life, how she likes her eggs in the morning, and how she kisses—but you don't even know her name?”

Yeosang was propped up against the headboard, squeezed between a very unfairly serene-looking Seonghwa and a mildly hungover Hongjoong. Yeosang's bangs were flat against his forehead and he squinted his tired eyes through the strands. “No, that's not what I said. I said that I know her name… it's just not coming to me right now.”

He knew your name. Right? You told him your name, right? He addressed you by your name at least once last night, right?

(If he was being honest, as soon as Yeosang woke up this morning, he started whimsically recalling the events of last night in his head. But once he realized he neither had your number nor remembered your name, he jostled his friends up to invade the president's room for an emergency round table discussion. Who would have guessed their alarm clock would be a very panicked Maltese screaming, “I DON'T REMEMBER HER NAME!”)

“Which pretty much means you don't know her name,” Jongho piped up where he was laying against Yunho's back on the corner of the bed, his eyes closed while he attempted to squeeze in five more milliseconds of sleep.

“Well, do you know who she came with?” San asked. “She probably has at least one mutual friend or else she wouldn't have gotten in.”

Mingi furrowed his brows together. “Not necessarily. The pledges might not have been thorough when checking.”

Hongjoong's eyes narrowed. “You were supposed to be there with them at the door, Mingi.”

“Oh, was I?”

Yunho cut in before Hongjoong could tackle Mingi off the bed. He grinned to himself, “Okay, but San has a point. Usually people are only able to sneak in if they're with a group.”

“Awh,” Wooyoung cooed, reaching over to pinch at Yeosang's cheek, “Yeosangie fell in love with a stowaway—ow! Hey! He just bit me!”

“Deserved,” Seonghwa said plainly. He turned his head so as to not have to face Wooyoung's wounded puppy eyes. It was too early for this. “Do you know if she came with anyone, Yeosang-ah?”

Yeosang scrunched his nose up, disgruntled. “No. I'm pretty sure she was looking for her friends when we met… something like that. I remember some things, but not everything.” He pinched the place between his brows in an attempt to piece together his memory of last night. He could remember the way you made him feel—it was the jittery warmth that came with falling, and his heart had never grown wings before like it had around you.

After the kiss, the two of you had sunk into a comfortable, quiet conversation about anything and everything beneath the sun. For the first time in a long time, he felt comfortable and heard by someone other than his fraternity brothers. You were perfect, for lack of a better word. And he knew a lot of words.

But how could he fucking forget your name?

He was never drinking that much melon soju ever again.

“She's a biology major,” he offered with a defeated sigh, letting his hand fall into his lap.

“What does she look like?” Hongjoong asked.

Yeosang's gaze went up to the ceiling as he recalled what you looked like to his friends. It was pretty dark the entire time he was with you, but there were a few moments when the streetlights hit your face and his conscience was constantly trying to keep his drunk ass from kissing you within the first ten minutes of meeting you. He'd managed to hold it together for a little bit longer before throwing all caution to the wind.

When he was done, San said in light amusement, “I'm just surprised you kissed her first. She must be something then, huh?”

Yeosang couldn't conceal the smile that slowly crept onto his face. “Yeah, she's…” He cleared his throat. “I just don't want last night to be the first and last time I see her.” It couldn't be—just when he thought he clicked with someone, the universe couldn't possibly be so cruel as to rip you away from him, could it?

“Don't you worry!” Mingi chirped, “We'll help you find your passenger princess.”

Seonghwa snorted. “Passenger princess? What is this, Cinderella?”

“It might as well be,” San chuckled, lifting his shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “Operation: Passenger Princess is a go!”

Yeosang wasn't sure if recruiting his friends’ help was a good or awful decision. But because his past, drunk self hadn't done many favors for his future, sober self, he would take all the help he could get.

You knew the moment you stumbled out of your bedroom and saw your roommate that you were in trouble. It wasn't trouble in the conventional sense; considering her eyes were laughing as she watched your pitiful walk of shame from your room to the shared bathroom, you knew you were not going to hear the end of everything that happened last night ever.

“Not a word,” you said to her as you winced at the blinding bathroom lights.

Her toothbrush hung out of her mouth as she slipped in behind you to spit her toothpaste into the sink. When her mouth was rinsed and clear, she made eye contact with you in the mirror, eyebrows wagging up and down. “So you and Yeosang, huh?”

You glared at her from around your own toothbrush. You would have taken the damn thing out to defend yourself, but you were already late.

Reina took full advantage of your occupied vocal chords. “I never knew pretty frat boys were your type, Yn,” she teased, practically floating out of the bathroom to go check on the state of her espresso in the kitchen.

“Aye hae yuu,” you grumbled around your toothbrush.

“What's that?” She cackled, bringing a hand up to the shell of her ear. “I love you? I love you, too, Yn. But you know who else loves you?—”

“Dompt shae it.”

“Yeosaaaang!”

You loathed the fact that her saying such things made butterflies flap their wings and dance around in your belly. It was simply delusional to think of love when all you and Yeosang did last night was make out in his car and accompany each other in deep, provoking conversation… conversation that definitely didn't make you feel incredibly seen or anything… definitely not.

Finally, you were able to spit your toothpaste out to make your argument. “Okay, first of all, I don't even have his number. And—how could he love me?” As if possession of a phone number could even correlate to love either.

Reina paused, her expression arranging into loud incredulity. “You what? After all I went through to separate the two of you to go home, you didn't exchange numbers?”

Okay, so maybe you shouldn't have disclosed that information—now you just looked stupid.

You lathered up facial cleanser in your hands and on your face. “Look. Exchanging numbers was just the last thing on our minds—” Oh, Yn. Have you ever said something smart?

Reina snorted. “Oh, I know.”

“We didn't just make out,” you grumbled, your cheeks warming beneath your hands. You furiously splashed cool water over your skin before patting your face dry. There likely wasn't much time left before you and Reina had to run to meet your other friends at your weekly volunteering session. “We talked.”

“Uh-huh, and you know that denial is a river in Egypt, right?”

Suffice to say that Reina most definitely did not let your shenanigans from last night go. The two of you managed to reach the food bank sometime before fifteen minutes past your original start time. Everyone else was already stationed and on time, and because you and Reina were the last to arrive, you were sent straight to dishwashing.

As you and Reina pulled on your twin pairs of pink rubber gloves, your friend Mark Lee (and brother with the NCT fraternity) barrelled into the backroom with a dirty ladle in his hands. His head perked up at the sight of you both, a smile blooming on his face. “Well, good morning, Party Animals. How was the ATZ party last night?”

He deposited the ladle into the sink for you to wash while he went to go find a clean one.

“It was cool, but I think Yn would love to tell you all about her experience,” Reina teased, bumping her elbow against your side.

Mark sidled up beside the two of you and leaned in close in proper tea-spilling fashion. “Oh my gosh, did something happen?”

You scowled at Reina, then said to Mark, “Nothing catastrophic—”

“She hooked up with Yeosang!”

You cut her a hard glance. “Reina, I don't think Neptune heard you.”

Mark's eyes went comically wide, jaw slackening. “Yn and Yeosang? That's so wild. Like—like Kang Yeosang?”

“I think? We didn't exactly exchange last names, but why would it be wild? We just kissed and talked.”

“Who kissed who now?” The new voice had you all glancing back over to the kitchen door where another member of the group, Yura, walked in. Yura was Reina's cousin, and the two grew up quite close, so it was natural that they ended up in similar social circles. You and all your other friends got along pleasantly with her. She flashed you all a small smile. “From the sounds of it, I'm guessing you guys had a fun time at the party last night?”

“We did!” Reina chirped.

“Shame you couldn't come with us this time,” you said offhandedly. It wasn't like Yura to miss a party.

Reina cocked her head to the side. “I could've sworn I saw you there though—”

“Ah,” Yura waved her hand to dismiss her cousin's thought. She chuckled, “You're probably mistaking someone else as me; I had that paper I needed to work on last night, remember? But Yn, you and Yeosang?”

You groaned. “I thought we were over this.”

“Dude, we can't not get over this,” Mark quipped back. “Yeosang just doesn't do stuff like that—hook up with people, I mean.”

“Yeah,” Yura chimed in, “I've seen him at a couple other Greek parties with some of my sorority friends and he looks pretty standoffish most of the time. He's usually always with one of his brothers. He's kind of cold, really.”

Mark furrowed his brows. “I wouldn't call him cold; he's just a little shy, is all.”

“My friends told me that a lot of sorority girls chase after him,” Yura said with wide eyes. “They get, like, aggressive about him or something.”

You and Reina exchanged a look. Was that who he was running from last night? “That must be kinda stressful,” you said softly with a small frown.

“Apparently, that's why his social medias don't take DMs unless approved,” she shrugged.

Well, there went your backup plan of finding him on social media. Then again, if he recognized you or your name, would that help if you requested him? That was if you deigned to change your profile picture to yourself and not one of your silly doodles.

You couldn't help the weight that your heart seemed to gain as it sank to the pit of your stomach.

“Well, that's mildly disappointing,” Reina muttered, turning to quickly wash the ladle Mark had just dropped off.

“I just wouldn't want you to get targeted by any of those crazy sorority girls, y'know?” Yura gave a laugh that sounded almost nervous. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before snapping on a fresh pair of gloves.

You nodded, gnawing on your bottom lip. “Yeah, no, I—I get it. Thanks, Yura.”

She gave you a sympathetic look. “Of course,” she said. With a wave, she made her way back toward the kitchen door. “Mark, we better get back to work. See you guys at lunch break!”

When she was gone, Mark clapped a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Hey, listen. I don't really know the guy personally, but me and Wooyoung are pretty tight. I can get in touch with them if you want—”

Baekhyun, the section leader for your session, charged into the kitchen with his arm piled high with dirty dishes. If you didn’t fear for the safety of the porcelain bowl at the top of the stack, you might have chuckled at the scene before you. “Mark! We don't pay you to stand around.”

“Hyung,” Mark huffed exasperatedly as he rushed over to help Baekhyun before the section leader could get knocked over the head by a rogue dish assisted by gravity. “You don't pay us. We're here out of the goodness of our hearts.”

“Well, I don't get paid enough for this,” Baekhyun said once all the dishes were transferred to the sink, and you and Reina were put to work. “Now come on; lots to do!”

Just as Mark was about to follow after Baekhyun, he caught your eyes. “I'm serious about the offer, Yn.”

You smiled. “Thanks, man, but let me think about it and I'll get back to you.”

“Yeah, just lemme know!” And he was gone.

Word broke out that someone in the ATZ household was searching for a girl. Word of mouth was a method of dissemination that could spread like wildfire, leaping from one tongue to one ear to another, leaving only ash and debris behind. And around Greek Row, it became a massive game of Telephone.

But while nearly everyone in the university's fraternities and sororities knew about his strife, Yeosang’s efforts seemed to be for naught. The only thing that emerged from this were more people harping after him, claiming to be 'the one he was looking for.’ None of them were you.

Your name had manifested itself in his head about halfway into the week. He'd been toiling over the theory readings his professor assigned for Thursday's lecture when he'd underlined a word, and it came crashing down upon him with ice cold clarity.

His eyes went wide as he shot up out of his chair, nearly sending Jongho careening off his bed on the other side of the room. “What the—”

“Yn,” Yeosang said. Then he declared a little louder, a giddy smile on his face, triumphant and bright, “Her name is Yn.”

Jongho resettled himself on top of his bed. “Well that narrows things down for us,” he drawled, taking his phone out and typing something out. “I don't suppose you have her last name.”

Yeosang fwumped onto the edge of his bed with his lips pressed into a line. “Dude. I literally just thought of her first name. Do you really think I can come up with—”

“Okay, okay,” Jongho laughed, flicking his wrist at him for a moment before resuming his typing.

“Who're you texting?” Yeosang asked as curiosity drew him across the room to Jongho's side.

His friend sat up so he could peer over his shoulder at the phone screen. “I'm doing the heavy lifting,” he teased. Based on the social media handle at the top of the direct messages channel, Jongho was texting Chungha, a friend of the frat's but a closer friend of President Hongjoong's, and the recently graduated head of the Phi Omega Phi sorority. “Hongjoong hyung mentioned offhandedly that Chungha wanted to get some friends into the party on Friday, so I'm seeing if she recognizes this Yn person you're looking for.”

Yeosang’s eyebrows flicked upward as he settled into a more comfortable position on Jongho’s bed while they awaited Chungha’s response. In the meantime, he pulled out his own phone in an attempt to search for your name amongst his mutuals. He frowned at the lack of a successful search—did you use a different name or did you not have a social media account? Was that why you hadn’t attempted to contact him in the past few days?

For a moment, a shard of self-consciousness pierced through his chest at the prospect that you didn’t want to contact him. Did sobriety make you embarrassed at what happened that night? Had he made you uncomfortable with the amount of vulnerability that was in the car—no, the vulnerability was mutual… but maybe—

“Gotcha.”

Yeosang’s head whipped back over to Jongho’s screen. Having your name and major seemed to ring a bell for Chungha, and she forwarded a social media handle, along with a “tell Yeosang good luck ;)”.

“Thank you, Jongho. And bless up, Chungha,” Yeosang muttered as he swiftly input the social media handle into his search bar. There it was—a private art account with your first name in the biography line. There were only one or two people who you both shared mutuals with, which made sense.

His thumb hovered over the request button, and he bit his lip. With little else left to do and his heart banging around in his ribs from the anticipation alone, he clicked the button.

It didn’t take you incredibly long to accept his follow request and to follow him back. (Though, half an hour felt like an eternity when he was so anxious.) He made it painfully obvious that you acted in response, because Yeosang fumbled his phone between his palms like it was a hot potato, before he dropped it and stubbed his toe with it.

Jongho sent him a strange look as he handed the device back to a red-faced Yeosang, who furrowed his brows together to think of an opening direct message to you.

“It doesn't have to be perfect,” Jongho said as he peered over Yeosang's shoulder this time. He had even paused the game he was playing on his phone to stay tuned into the live entertainment.

Yeosang made a face. “Yes, it does.” It had to be the perfect mix of witty and funny and subtle and—

He figured it out.

@/yskang99: how do u like ur eggs?

Jongho released a sound of utter flabbergast, and Yeosang shushed him, both pairs of eyes pinned to the three dots that appeared on the bottom left-hand side of the screen.

@/studioyn: sunny side up

Yeosang broke into a smile, and Jongho's face contorted into pure incredulity. “What kind of security question is that?”

“Inside joke,” Yeosang replied giddily, rising from Jongho's bed to cross over to his side of the room. He collapsed into his desk chair and propped his feet up along the end of his bed.

Jongho scoffed, shifting his lounging position. He threw his friend another incredulous glance before giving up and returning to his game. He'd done his job.

@/yskang99: congrats u passed the test!

@/studioyn: ahh so that was a test? i imagined us doing a virtual handshake tbh

@/yskang99: i like that better actually

@/studioyn: also how did u find me lmao

Yeosang bit his lip through a grin. I have my ways, he typed out cryptically, cheekily.

@/studioyn: wtvr u say ig… 🤨🤨🤨

For a brief moment, Yeosang wondered if he should bring up the concern lingering in his mind—why you hadn't reached out to him. He didn't want to simply assume that he was “popular” enough that just anybody knew who he was, but he was also aware that most people were able to track him down on social media. But would that kill the vibe? He liked the energy.

@/studioyn: i can't get a read on whether or not ur any different than how u were drunk

@/yskang99: would that matter?

@/studioyn: not particularly, no, but i've met people who r

@/yskang99: no i get that, i've met my fair share too :/

He began typing out slowly: I missed you… Then he swiftly amended it to: I missed talking to you.

@/studioyn: awhh wait ik we've only technically spoken the one time, but i missed talking to u too yeo :’)

A smile split his face from ear to ear. Would you wanna hang out again? Only if you're comfortable, of course.

He watched the three dots appear, then disappear. You were thinking and his heart was sinking.

Finally, your response came in. I'd love to, but I don't wanna disappoint you with my god awful schedule this next week.

@/yskang99: what abt the weekend? something low stakes maybe?

@/yskang99: my brothers and i r going to the nct house on sat

@/studioyn: oh!! im actually close friends w mark lee :] i'll see if i can drag my friends along, and we can link up there?

The thought of seeing you again, even if it was at another dumb Greek party, made electricity zip through his veins. His stomach filled to the brim with butterflies, and he had to shift his position because of how much it tickled.

@/yskang99: yeah sounds great :D i'll look forward to seeing u

@/studioyn: same here yeo :’))

@/studioyn: how's ur week been so far?

Yeosang leaned back in his chair again, propping his elbows on the armrests to sink into a comfortable position. He had a feeling he might be here awhile, but he would sit here all night if it meant talking to you.

“Yn! We're gonna be late!”

You nearly jolted at the sound of Reina's voice carrying through the other side of your bedroom door. You dropped your phone onto your bed, racing to finish up the rest of your makeup. “You can never be late to a Greek party!” You countered, swiping your thumb over the pigment you just put on your lips.

Your bedroom door opened just as you were slipping a chain necklace around your collar. Reina poked her head in, her eyes looking you up and down. “Ooh-la-la,” she gushed with a teasing smile. “Someone's gotten all dolled up. I wonder who for…”

You rolled your eyes and ignored the obvious warmth rising to your face. “I just felt like it,” you defended weakly while spritzing a light mist of perfume over your neck and wrists. You stood up from your desk to collect your wallet, keys, and lip gloss to dump into a purse, then went over to retrieve your phone.

The screen displayed another message from Yeosang, no doubt continuing the conversation you had to abruptly pause because you would be late for the NCT party. This was going to be the second Greek party in two weeks—a record for your books. But you had a feeling it was going to be a good time like last week, you were sure of it.

As you skimmed the message Yeosang sent, you slipped out of the room to join Reina in the main living space. She casted you a pointed look with arms crossed over her chest and lips pressed together.

“What?” You blinked over at her innocently.

“You're never gonna see your boy at this rate,” she said as the two of you picked out your shoes for the night.

You sent a text answering Yeosang and letting him know you would be at the party soon. “He's not 'my boy,’” you said.

“Right. He's your man.”

You hated how hard it was to keep the giggle in your throat down. It was embarrassing how you smiled just then, too, turning your head away from a smug Reina.

God, he was just a guy; how did you get so head-over-heels after just one night? It had to be the fact that you'd been texting him nonstop over the past few days. Though you were busy and exhausted, you continued to check your phone all throughout the days and stayed up long into the nights just to talk to him. He had you hook, line, and sinker.

At some point, you'd forgotten what Yura warned you about on Saturday.

Your friends picked you and Reina up in one of their family minivans. A round of greetings went up as you clambered in behind Reina, and your friend asked where her cousin was tonight if she wasn't carpooling with the rest of you.

“She said she was at her sorority friend's house,” Sieun said offhandedly from the driver's seat. The minivan door closed on its own with a mechanical whirring sound. “She's probably at the party already.”

Some nights, parties called for a pregame session, while others (not unlike this one) was attacked raw. Sieun parked the minivan about a block outside of Greek row where there were spaces between cars along the curbs and where there was less of a chance of her accidentally running over a drunk partygoer stumbling into the street. The party was already in full swing with neon green strobe lights blazing aggressively through the front windows, and Gasolina blasting at nothing less than one hundred percent speaker volume.

You felt your phone vibrate in your hand as Reina grabbed your hand to avoid instantly losing you in the crowd.

@/yskang99: im on the second floor where there's less people 😋😋 they've got a nice balcony we can hide on!!

“Mark said they've got spiked Capri Sun somewhere in here!” Reina shouted into your ear.

You nodded your head vigorously. “Let's find it then!”

@/studioyn: gonna grab hard caprisun and then head up!! do u want some??

@/yskang99: surprise me w a flavor, pretty pls x

You grinned to yourself and slid your phone into your purse to focus on the task at hand.

The NCT fraternity house wasn't a completely unknown landscape to you and Reina. Being friends with one of its brothers and friends-by-association with all the rest, you'd popped by more than a few times. You could likely navigate this house with your eyes closed; that was what it was like weaving through the dark rooms and throngs of people squeezed together like sardines in a can, anyway.

Along yours and Reina's trek to the kitchen, you gained a couple people in your conga line of linked hands, NCT's own Xiaojun and Jungwoo. NCT frat brothers always pregamed, so the two brothers were already tipsy and giggled about your kindergarten field trip line (with Reina being dubbed the poor kindergarten teacher tasked with keeping you together).

When you arrived at your destination, it didn't take long for you to lose both Xiaojun and Jungwoo to the game of Texas Hold 'Em being played at the breakfast table. The singular lightbulb overheard made it feel like a smoke-filled backdoor gambling den.

“Aha!” You cheered after playing a game of mystery cooler roulette, and opened the cooler lid that held the spiked Capri Sun juice pouches on ice.

“Mine!” Reina snatched up the last cherry flavored one, the shiny aluminum slippery and ice-cold as she impaled the opening with the thin, yellow straw.

You grabbed a Pacific Cooler flavored pouch for yourself, and a second for Yeosang.

“Ah, is that for the man of your dreams?” Reina said between sips, her pouch already half empty.

You sent her a look. “He has good taste, which means he'll probably appreciate Pacific Cooler as much as I do.”

“As long as it's not lemonade,” came a voice to your left. There stood a rather tall and lean man, his warm smile enunciated by the dim kitchen lighting as the green strobe lights from the living room painted across his face. “I can't deal with sour shit,” he explained, making a face.

You laughed. “That's valid. Fruit Punch is a classic though.”

“Can't argue with that,” he replied, leaning down to pick his poison for the night. He stabbed a straw into his pouch of strawberry kiwi juice, then arched an eyebrow at you. “I feel like I know you. Do I know you?”

“Hey,” Reina chimed in as she leaned over your shoulder, “you're with the ATZ frat, aren't you? I recognize you from Twister last week.”

He smiled sheepishly from around his straw. “Ah… haha, not my best moment, but yes. I'm Yunho.”

“Reina,” your friend replied.

“Yn,” you added on.

Yunho's expression jerked as if he'd just been delivered an electric shock. He waved his pointer finger at you. “Oh my god, you're Yeosang's girl!”

Your eyes shuddered in surprise. Yeosang's girl. “Sorry?” You stammered. There was an insane amount of possessive pronouns being used tonight, buy you definitely weren't complaining about it, and could he perhaps say that again—

“Yeah, he won't shut up about you.” Yunho slurped up the rest of his juice pouch, draining and flattening the life out of it in record time. “He loves Pacific Cooler, by the way.”

He took his leave then, saying nothing else to you and Reina except for shooting you a pair of finger guns like saying 'go get em, tiger!’

Reina wheezed, draping herself over you for a moment. “Oh—my god! Good thing Yeosang's just as down in the trenches as you are.”

“Don't do this to me, Reina,” you whined and dragged her along out of the kitchen toward the second floor staircase. “I don't need encouragement; the crush is enough!”

“It's never enough,” she declared with her pointer finger up in the sky. “You are gone, my friend! Gone, I say.”

You patted her head as you both began your ascent up the stairs. “Alrighty; then gone, I am. Do you remember where the balcony is on this floor?”

She hummed. “Ooh! Somewhere by Johnjae's room, abouts. I just remember because Mark told us how—”

“Right—the sophomore year Romeo and Juliet reenactment,” you snorted. You couldn't wrap your head around the batshit crazy things that occurred around these parts. “Who convinced Doyoung to play Paris anyway?”

She made a noncommittal noise. “Must've been bribed—oh, there it is, but I think there's a couple out there already…”

There was most definitely a couple on the balcony. Their outlines were silhouettes against the residual strobe lights shining up from downstairs, so it was a little too dark to make out who they were. They seemed close—the girl was all over the boy, the latter trying to hold her up by her waist. Maybe she'd had too much to drink, and for a moment, you were glad someone was taking care of her.

But when she leaned in for a kiss, green light glanced across their faces to reveal their features to you. It was only a split second, but it was all you needed.

“Reina,” you exhaled in shock, turning away from the balcony with enough speed to nearly give you whiplash.

She didn't question you, as you both careened back down the hall from where you came from, heading for one of the open bedrooms on this floor to collect yourselves. When the two of you were out of earshot of the balcony, she hissed under her breath in utter disbelief, “Yura?”

You'd seen it nearly clear as day, too. That was Yura kissing Yeosang.

Your head spun as you shouldered your way into Mark's and Haechan's room, their names plastered on the door in foam letter stickers from the craft store. As Reina closed the door and turned on the lights, you sat down in Mark's desk chair attempting to make sense of what you and Reina just witnessed.

Yeosang and Yura? But wasn't Yura the one who warned you that chasing after Yeosang was a risk because of how many others were, as well? Why would…

Oh.

Well, now you just felt stupid.

Reina dragged over Haechan's desk chair to settle in front of you, her expression less enraged than before, and more concerned over what she was reading off of your face. “Hey, don't do that. Don't think like that.”

“You don't know what I'm thinking,” you murmured, setting the untouched juice pouches on the desk.

“You're thinking that you're stupid.”

“Okay, maybe you do know what I'm thinking.” You inhaled, then exhaled slowly, leaning forward onto your knees. “I don't really know what to think or assume.”

Reina nodded, chewing on her bottom lip. “That's okay. I don't think I really understand what I saw either.”

“But that was Yura, right?”

She bobbed her head again. “That was my cousin, yeah.”

“Would it be fair to even think that she told me all that shit last week to discourage me from seeing him?” You didn't enjoy thinking that another person would have such malicious intentions without understanding their point of view, especially someone you considered yourself friends with.

“Well,” Reina drawled, “I think we both saw what we saw, and Yura was acting strangely about it on Saturday. It would be fair if you were hurt by it; I think your feelings have been clear.”

You gave a small nod. “Do you think he…?”

“I'm not sure, hon.”

You resolved to talk to him about it. If anything, you had these juice pouches left to console yourself, but you wanted to make sure you knew where his feelings laid. You would be lying if you said your heart didn't harbor even a glimmer of hope that this was all a misunderstanding, and that the kiss was an accident and didn't matter.

You and Reina left the relative safety of Mark and Haechan's bedroom to go find Yeosang. There weren't any new messages between either of you since the Capri Sun exchange, and you thought about texting him on his whereabouts.

The balcony by Johnny and Jaehyun's room was empty now, barren of any evidence somebody was there in the first place.

You and Reina wandered back down to the main floor. The party was nowhere near over; the night was still young. Hope was sinking fast in your stomach as the two of you traveled from room to room in search of him, but with no luck. Even asking around was useless.

“Text him,” Reina encouraged, as the two of you sipped on the juice pouches that were supposed to be for you and him.

She held your spiked juice while you texted him.

As time passed, and a response had yet to come through, you tossed yours and Reina's flattened Capri Sun pouches into the nearest garbage can.

If he wasn't going to answer, then maybe you would just go home for the night. You had a lot to think about.

Defeated, you let Reina sweep you under her arm and guide you to the front door. “Let's go home, hm?” She said, rubbing your shoulder.

On your way to the front door, you paused. You thought you heard someone calling your name—

You turned around to find Mark barreling toward you through the crowd with another guy at his side. “Mark?” You shouted over the music.

“Hey, we've been looking all over for you,” he said. Nodding to his friend, he told you, “This is Wooyoung, by the way, the ATZ brother I'm friends with.”

“Yeosang's been looking for you,” Wooyoung said in earnest, eyes as wide as Mark's. Had they been looking for you as much as you were looking for Yeosang?

Something like hope sparked in your chest again—you were at odds. The fight had nearly dissipated from your blood and you were ready to go home. But if he was trying to find you… it must be worth it then, right?

“Where is he?” You asked.

It was nearing midnight by the time you settled yourself on the concrete curb outside the ATZ frat house just down the block from the target being thrown at the NCT house. With everyone over there, no wonder it was quiet enough to finally hear yourself think. With the coming of deep autumn, a slight breeze wafted by that drifted over your skin and raised goosebumps on your arms.

You heard gravel crunching from behind you, coming down the ATZ driveway, and before you could turn your head to look, a warm jacket was placed over your shoulders. You held your breath, fingers finding the lapel to keep it from slipping as you glanced over at your counterpart.

Yeosang lowered himself onto the curb next to you, mimicking your position with his knees bent and arms resting upon them. “I—my phone died,” he said lowly.

“Oh.” That took care of at least two of your questions.

“Is there—” He stopped himself, amending his statement, “There's something on your mind.”

Understatement of the century. You pulled his jacket around you, the intertwining scents of alcohol and his cologne lingering on the collar. “I was going to meet you at the balcony, and I was there, but… but I saw you and Yura, and…”

It was his turn to say “oh.” He angled his body toward you now until his knees bumped against yours and he was muttering out an apology he didn't need to say. He laid his upper body over his arms that were folded onto his knees and peered up at you through lengthy lashes.

He was waiting for you to finish.

You swallowed, following his lead and turning your body toward him. “I saw her kiss you,” you said, the sound barely audible to anybody but you and him. “Reina and I went somewhere to kind of just soak in what we saw, and then we went back out to find you so I could talk to you about it, but we couldn't find you.”

“I'm sorry you had to see that,” he murmured, eyebrows furrowed together. “It—it didn't mean anything. She did try to kiss me, but I pushed her away before she could.”

You believed him. You loosened a small chuckle from your lips. “Y'know, it sounds silly to me now, but last week she told me that there were a number of girls who were pursing you and were very aggressive about it.”

He snorted. “If there were any, I only know of one.”

“She…?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, lips pursing. “I know she's liked me for a while, but I've made it clear I don't see her the same way. At last Friday's party, I was actually trying to lose her in the crowd when I found you.”

Your eyes widened. “So she was there?” Then Reina had actually seen her cousin at the party; Yura had lied about where she was.

“She told me tonight that she was scared about me liking you more than her,” Yeosang said as he lifted his body back up to rest his cheek against his fist. “She was really drunk—which was why you probably saw me trying to hold her up—and then she… tried to kiss me. I pushed her away, and one of her friends found us, so I handed her over and went to get some air.”

And that was why you couldn't find him. You released a breath you didn't realize you were holding in. “Are you—are you okay? I'm so sorry she did that to you.”

The corners of his lips tugged upward in a reassuring smile. “I'm alright, thank you. And it's not your fault.”

“I know, but still,” you insisted. “Your boundaries were violated, and it makes me feel so icky that I've called her a friend of mine, and—what?”

Your words came to a screeching halt when you realized that Yeosang was just smiling at you. Or rather, gazing at you, admiring you. It was whatever he did whenever his eyes possessed a set of twin jewels in his irises that needed no light to glitter like gold; and when his grin softened at the corners by a tenderness that knocked the wind out of you, all words and systems failed you.

You recognized this look, except this time, you weren't drunk.

“I'm really happy I met you,” he said in your silence. “And I'm happy I got to see you again.”

You nearly melted. You smiled back at him, replying quietly, “Couldn’t have said it any better. Thank you for being honest with me.”

“And thank you for believing me.” He reached for your hand, his movements slow as if giving you an opening to pull back if you wanted to. But you didn't, and you closed the remaining space to link your fingers and press your palms together.

You and Yeosang shared mutual smiles in the dim lighting outside his fraternity house. Your heart beat had quickened a considerable amount now that he was so close to you again.

You cleared your throat. "Just to be clear though—when you said she was scared about you liking me more than her—?"

His smile reached his eyes and turned them into upturned crescent moons. "I'm not scared," he said, "that I like you more than I have ever liked her." By a landslide.

Your heart gave a lurch in your chest. "Good," you smiled. "That's good, because I like you a whole lot, too."

“Do you wanna get out of here?” Yeosang inclined his chin toward where his car was parked a couple vehicles down. “Properly this time, now that we're not completely wasted?”

You laughed. “I would love nothing more.”

Pleased, he helped you to your feet. You must have stood up far too quickly though, because the blood rushed up to your head in a riptide current. You swore as the vertigo hit you, and your footing stumbled.

“Woah, careful there, pretty,” he murmured, his low voice by your ear as he steadied you with one hand pressed between your shoulder blades and the other around your waist.

Oh, there went your heart… it flew up to halo around Yeosang's head, and it wasn't yours anymore—

“You okay?” He mused.

You cleared your throat, straightening. “Yeah, I'm great,” you said sheepishly, ducking your head toward your chest.

A warm, fond chuckle left his mouth. “Cute,” he murmured. He lifted your chin up so you would look at him, his eyes darting down toward your mouth, and yours mirroring his movements. “I was wondering…”

“You can kiss me,” you blurted out, ignoring the utter leap in your pulse and the heat crawling up the back of your neck.

You tasted his smile as he leaned over to seal his mouth over your own, a long awaited return to the place that felt just right. You breathed him in, inhaled him, devoured him whole—you wrapped your arms around his shoulders to pull him closer just as his hands pressed you flush against him.

In the distance against the heavy house music in the background, a cheer went up into the night sky.

You and Yeosang parted only to crane your heads in the direction of the noise, only to find what looked like a gathering of your friends and his friends hooting and applauding like it was New Years.

“OPERATION: PASSENGER PRINCESS WINS!” The guy from earlier, Wooyoung, practically howled up at the sky.

You pressed your face against Yeosang's shoulder as he groaned. “I am so sorry about them,” he chuckled through a grimace, lips grazing over your crown.

You laughed along with him. “My friends are also among the guilty party, Yeo.”

He kept his arm around your waist and you kept your head against his shoulder as the two of you walked away from your friends and toward his car. Contentment curled itself up over your chest again, and it nestled in deep, as if it planned to stay awhile.

“By the way,” you piped up as he unlocked his car.

“Mhm?”

You opened the passenger side door and leaned over the top of it to ask, “What the hell is Operation: Passenger Princess?”

Yeosang sputtered out a laugh and his cheekbones burned red. “How about we save that for our third date?”

You blinked, lips parting.

Yeosang grinned impishly. “Close that mouth, pretty, or I'll close it for you.”

Your jaw snapped closed, and his laugh echoed against the houses along this street. You climbed into the car after him, flustered beyond words. “I don't like you,” was all you could come up with.

“I'm sure you don't.”

a/n: pls remember to reblog + comment if you enjoyed! also, the plan is to try and write another wooyo frat au as well, so pray for me...

atz m.list

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aswho1estuff · 11 hours

Text

sweetest lies | c.s (03)

prev // series m.list

pairing: choi san x f!reader

word count: 7.7k

warning: none but lmk

you didn't want to go home because you knew that you'd have to face your sister.

look her in the eyes and see those very lips that yunho kissed and those hands that he probably held on more than one occasions, the wound still too fresh that it all still hurts.

but you didn't think you'd run smack into her before you could even pass the entrance, stopping in your steps immediately with surprised eyes similar to hers, the both of you swallowing down the same time as the air turn an awkward one.

you're about to just walk past her, the day from work leaving you tired and not in the mood for another long conversation about the topic, when your sister musters up the courage to let out a soft, "can we please talk?"

the tone aggravating you more than anything; how she can still sound so sweet and worried after what she's put you through.

you huff and merely roll your eyes, absolutely refusing to look at her although you know it's silly and petty--you being the older one but holding a grudge like no other, so much more less mature than her.

"i don't know what else is there to talk about," you respond, trying your very best to sound annoyed.

but she continues to make you feel worse with an even sweeter tone, "i'm sorry. i really am." and you can already picture the pearls in her eyes and pout on her lips despite still facing the other way.

"i know you like yunho. i do. but..." he's too handsome and charming; too sweet and kind that she also can't help but fall for him. she would never intend to steal him from you if he didn't return the sentiment.

"but he likes you too," you finish for her, something shifting in you that makes you finally look her in the eyes. "i get it. what am i gonna do? you're two grown consenting adults so i'll get over it."

you didn't even think such words could ever come out your mouth, but for the first time sounding surprisingly selfless because maybe talking to san did helped out a little.

there's a silence after that you're sure has marked the end of the topic, striving a step forward when her voice stops you again.

"we're planning on telling mom and dad and yunho's parents over dinner..." she says, delivery timid like she's just the slightest scared of your reaction.

you gulp down the knot, mumbling a dry, "good luck with that." and sliding past her.

you start seeing how truly mundane your life is once the person it used to revolve around is no longer there.

how, it’s a continuous cycle of work and coming home to a big empty house most days and watching reruns of shows until you’re bored out of your mind.

which is how you wind up at a co-worker’s house party, the young woman from the office next to you going by the name of dahyun kindly asking after a conversation with your boss about the paperworks regarding the transfer.

she joined the firm a few months after you but you’ve always known her to be outgoing and a people’s person, recalling the girl’s familiarity with everyone from the floor her second week of work.

it wasn’t like you had anything better to do, so you accepted the invitation and saved the following day for a night of fun, or at least you hoped so.

dahyun had said it’s just gonna be a regular house party; none of that crazy frat bullshit with the chance of someone under 20 attending, so it’s just gonna be chill and relaxing.

fives minutes into your arrival and it’s not too bad but you already find yourself hiding in a corner despite recognizing a few faces from the same working floor.

“if you’re gonna be here, you should at least try and have some fun.”

the familiar sounding voice from behind makes you quirk a brow, barely looking over your shoulder to see, probably the least expected person standing with amusement in his expression.

“seonghwa?” you say in disbelief, your body naturally following your curiosity to stand before him. “the fuck you doing here?”

“attending the party, isn’t that obvious?” he quips, continuing to close the gap before stopping with just enough space.

you scoff and roll your eyes, the sight bringing a smirk onto seonghwa’s lips.

“shut up. you know what i mean.”

“dahyun’s a friend,” he says casually, the answer making you squint.

“seriously? hongjoong and now you?” the complaint rolling off like it’s seonghwa’s fault. you can only cross your arms and sulk.

you can’t even recall the last time you actually saw seonghwa. it must’ve been your graduation or one last coincidental meeting… you don’t remember. it’s been that long.

“yeah, cause you have better things to do?” he pokes fun at the very obvious fact you came alone. “where’s that jeong boy? you know, the one that always got you on a leash.”

between hongjoong and seonghwa, seonghwa’s always been the more calm and level-headed of the two; being the voice of reason when you and hongjoong would lose it.

but on the occasion when he’d just let it go and be snarky, seonghwa could really pull a nerve.

“is that all people associate me with?” you have the audacity to click your tongue in annoyance and scoff like you didn’t do it to yourself.

seonghwa snickers.

“oh i’m sorry. it was just my most recent memory of you,” he says cheekily. voice calm but you know there’s hidden animosity underneath.

he never explicitly said whose side he took, but it was obvious from how he treated you the same as hongjoong did. it only made sense because they’ve known each other before you even came along.

you never fault him, knowing it mostly had to do with your own fuck-ups.

“hmm,” you hum, tone setting into the same sarcastic and dry one he has. “well, it’s nice catching up and all but i don't feel like reminiscing the past, so if you’ll excuse me.”

because you can admit your wrongdoings and also be both embarrassed about it, attempting to brush past him when his speaking voice stops you in track.

“hey, i was just trying to find something to talk about after all these years,” he says, half chuckling and staring at you from the opposite side now that you’ve managed to make it past him.

you snicker lowly.

“what?” you quirk a corner of your lips, continuing with amusement in your voice, “then you’re gonna say sorry? or expect me to?”

he shrugs.

"that's your choice."

but his body language now shifting, that playful look no longer in his eyes or tone, it's almost scary how fast it happened.

the next few seconds is a silent stare off, the only sound is the party music in the background and the slight beating of your heart at the ominous delivery.

"i'm not asking for an apology or whatever. frankly, it wasn't even my problem, but i'm just saying... your life would be a lot easier if you know how to say sorry for once."

seonghwa thinks you have too much pride; the same thing you believe to be keeping you intact is gonna be your ultimate downfall because even when you're clearly wrong or you know you're wrong, you never say it.

you're one to keep it bubbled inside and carry the guilt just because you think you should be unbreakable at all times. it's such an unrealistic standard you've set for yourself.

you raise a brow at that, tilting your head in confusion.

"i know how to say sorry," you tell him sternly, attempting to convince him as much as you are to yourself.

“i’m uhm… i’m sorry,” you utter lowly, sounding and appearing ashamed by the way your fingers fiddle with each other at your front, san almost can’t believe it.

“pardon?”

“i’m sorry, about this morning.”

it's beyond comprehension how san must've been the first person you've genuinely apologized to after going so many years of the word kept to yourself.

it must've been the absolute humiliation and loneliness that day that really got to you, breaking you down until you were so vulnerable with nothing but the choice to fold in front of the one person you felt you could still confide in.

san being that person is also beyond what you can explain.

but seonghwa only merely puffs and crosses his arms.

"i just think it would be great if we could be friends again one day," he says, the ominous dropping and voice turning soft and reminiscing again that it makes your eyes go wide before you see a smile turn up on his lips.

"if you ever want to reach out to me or hongjoong again, you know how to find us."

he leaves his last words of the night opened and vague, disappearing off with one last smile before he's out of your sight, leaving you with much to think about--just exactly as he intended.

there's only so much excuses to make or places to be after work just because you don't want to be there for dinner, knowing it's the day both yunho and your sister are gonna tell your parents and his the good news.

know that they're all gonna react with surprise and be so happy for them, erupting in cheers and congratulatory words that the two children they've been rooting for the longest time has finally gotten together.

there really isn't a lot, that you just sucked it up and stayed the few extra hours overtime to make up for all the instances you've slacked off, even starting on work saved for the following day, hoping it's long enough to just miss the dinner.

and just enough it is, you return right as the table's just about to be cleared, the chitters and chatters around loud enough to drown the opening and shutting of the front door with yunho the only one catching your presence standing in the hall.

"they were really happy, yeah..." he says awkwardly, standing before you in the cold chilly air of the backyard.

you really didn't want to talk about it anymore, the subject like beating a dead horse at this point. but yunho had approached you so cautiously and calmly, something genuine in his action that you couldn't say no when he asked to talk for one last time.

"hmm," you merely hum, really not made for comforting or encouraging. most of the anger already dissipated although the hurt's still there, you can't bring yourself to not feel even the slightest happy for him, even if the smallest percentage because you saw the biggest smile ever on him back at dinner.

you contemplate on what to say because yes, you're still hurt and feeling betrayed, but it's not like you can hold it over his head forever. he isn't some stranger you can easily avoid.

he's yunho and you're just gonna have to get over it; not just for his sake but also for yours just so you can feel a little more at peace and move on.

"i'm sorry," he suddenly let out, your head snapping from the ground and to his guilt-ridden eyes.

because though he still stands by what he said, not a single word a lie, the few days apart also allowed him to think outside of the box--especially from your perspective.

how selfish he really was from the start, playing along when he was being dishonest the entire time, and how much pain he could've saved everyone if he hadn't been such a coward.

if he hadn't wanted the best of both worlds and knew he would lose you in some way if you found out how he actually feels.

you have to blink a few times, feeling like a lost puppy under yunho's apologetic gaze because you honestly believe that in comparison, you have so much more to be sorry for.

and as if he could read your mind; your expression speaking for itself because you have a certain look of bafflement or aloofness whenever you feel guilty.

you won't ever say outright that you're wrong, but your body language always gave it out.

it was one of the very first traits he picked up from being around you, having seen it for himself at the starting age of twelve when you pushed a much younger san to his injury and cried--not because you got yelled at by your parents but because you felt bad.

and how distracted you were at the movies the entire time after your fight with hongjoong because you confessed to yunho a few days later that you were being a shitty friend.

you have such a way of dealing with your emotions, he wishes for there to be an outlet for you to deal with them in a healthy and accepting manner.

one that doesn't depend on him or anything else for all the wrong reasons.

"i'm sorry," he says again, eyes now softer but still sincere. "i know i already said this last time but i really got carried away and couldn't finish. but i truly am sorry. i should've told you sooner. i should've never given you any sort of false hope, and i should've just been honest from the start."

he's sure he's out of breath when he finishes, just waiting for you to now say something in return because despite all the ups and downs and shortcomings, you're the one who's been with him through most of his lowest points and he's so grateful for that.

he wouldn't want to lose you over this.

you stay quiet for a few seconds more, a mental battle in your head just so you'll be able to form something coherent when you do speak.

"we both just weren't right for each other," you say, pausing briefly, "in that way... at least."

because yunho hid things from you and you were so in your head you were convinced he was in love with you at one point, always looking at everything through a rose-coloured glass but now able to see for yourself once it cracked, just how destined it was to fail from the start.

"sorry," he mumbles, low and head still hanging in shame, you can't help the dry chuckle that falls from your lips.

"you don't have to keep telling me you're sorry. like what i told minjeong: i'll get over it."

he picks his head up from the more cheery tone, the smallest smile forming on your lips that takes him by surprise because of the illusion it gives off; that you were able to come to terms with it so fast, but he knows you and knows it's all just a facade.

nonetheless, he nods, gulping silently to pass a comment.

"i hope you're taking care of yourself."

you smile, turning your back on him and crossing your arms to stare up into the stars in the nightsky who's currently the witness to the end of your 'relationship' with the boy you've loved your whole life.

"i've considered transferring work. it's not set in stone yet, but i did talked to my boss and he said he'd help me look for an opening if i'm interested."

you think it will be good if you can seek your own independence for once, unable to think of a better time than this one.

and though you can't see yunho, you can tell he's intrigued by how his question squeaks slightly when asking.

"where would you be transferring?"

"japan," you answer, once again facing him. "it's different, but close enough where i don't have to feel like i'm halfway across the world. my boss said i have about two months-ish to make up my mind."

plus, japanese is the only other language you're fluent in. the country a similar but new enough experience and the true testimony to how you'll be, away from the grasp of your parents.

"i see," yunho replies, nodding in understanding; so much to say but at the same time unable to say anything. he wouldn't ever want to hear someone he's close to plans on moving away, but he's almost proud of you for taking that next step.

"feel free to call me up any time if you need help," he adds, a soft smile gracing his features that makes the moment so bittersweet. you wish you have the guts to hate yunho, but you really can't after all he's done for you.

you nod lightly, at the same time allowing yourself to enjoy the breeze and calm silence before letting all your guards down.

"yunho..." you call his name almost timidly, the boy responding that immediate second.

"i'm not asking for an apology or whatever. frankly, it wasn't even my problem, but i'm just saying… your life would be a lot easier if you know how to say sorry for once."

"i'm sorry," you finally tell him, to wide and surprised eyes--unsurprisingly.

"i'm sorry for putting so much pressure and baggage on you. i also should've asked about your feelings from the very beginning. i shouldn't have just... assumed."

yunho knows it's the sincerest form of apology without the need to say a lot. from the nervous timbre to the guilt in your eyes, and even the way you start fiddling with your fingers.

he only snickers, much to your initial mixed reaction until you start warming up to it as well, the low but very real giggle leaving you putting a smile on yunho's face.

"apology accepted," he says.

you allow another giggle before cutting it short and looking at him through your blinking lashes.

"if you guys have went to this extent, then i hope you'll treat her right, jeong yunho."

you leave the night at that, a sting in your chest but you know that soon enough, you'll be relieved of it and you won't even think about him anymore.

it's after sitting down for a few minutes that you get a text from san, the funny coincidence that you were just talking about the transfer with your boss as well.

san: yunho told me

san: it's true you're gonna be leaving for japan?

you honestly can't recall how san even got your number. it must've been something you did drunkenly or he must've asked for it from yunho. but for sure, you did not give it to him willingly.

y/n: he really be snitching, huh

san: so it's true ☹️

you roll your eyes and try preventing even the smallest smirk. you haven't seen the man ever since that day and now is when he decides to reach out again.

y/n: maybe 🤷

san: 😔

san: just when we were starting to get along too

y/n: lol. you'll be fine.

shaking your head, you put your phone down to return to work, thinking to yourself there's no way san's actually serious because you're sure even if you did move halfway across the world, he would barely notice you're gone.

ten minutes of silence from your phone and you're also sure he's given up on the act--when your notification buzzes again.

san: ☹️ thought you weren't gonna run away

y/n: i'm not

y/n: i just want to do something different

san: if you say so

san: you free this evening?

y/n: i get off work in about 3 hours

san: wanna do something? 🙂

y/n: well aren't you a changed man 🙃

san: i thought it was nice the other day and i just figured you might need a distraction

you have to admit the fact you were taken aback a little; in a surprisingly good and touching way that san would care about you so much as to consider the after effect of what have happened.

y/n: if you're up for it 🤷 not like i have anything better after work

san: awesome! i'll see you then 😉

it's not everyday that you go waltzing into a guy's place; if at all, actually, because you've ever only graced the presence of the house next door because unlike san, yunho never had the urge to get his own place or be away from the watchful eyes of his parents.

it only takes two knocks in total for the door to come apart with san standing before it, a smile on his face and every body language welcoming.

"that was fast," you comment, walking past him to get inside.

"i was waiting," he says, calm and relaxed. "you took a lot longer than you said you would."

you shrug and plop yourself down on the couch, head snapping his way to reply.

"i had to get out of my work outfit."

he acknowledges it with a nod before seating himself next to you, his phone sitting on the coffee table in front of you gone unnoticed until you see him pick it up.

"what to order?" he scrolls through the delivery app, the same time you quirk a brow.

"stew sounds really good right now," you say.

"soft tofu stew?"

"that's fine. but make it spicy."

you weren't sure what you guys were gonna be doing once you came over, but he had just said to hang out and you thought any form of entertainment was better than none.

"any drinks?" he asks, after placing the order and getting up to walk over to the fridge.

"got any sodas?"

"i got some coke."

"that'll do."

he returns with two bottles, setting it on the table with a smirk stickered on his face, you have to reframe from rolling your eyes.

"what? no alcohol tonight?" he teases, his back falling onto the couch with hands behind his head.

"not in the mood," you reply, straight and simple.

"fair enough," he mumbles.

you let your eyes wander for a few more seconds before asking, "so, what's the plan?"

he gets up to sit straight and look you in the eyes.

"i was thinking a movie, video games, or we can just talk over food."

you hum with straighten lips, nodding and making yourself at home when it's your turn to fall back on the couch.

"anything's fine," you tell him, patting at the material under you and adding, "great couch by the way."

"yeah. it cost a fortune."

"good thing that wasn't a problem," you jab lightheartedly, because you always have wondered what the hell san does all day, besides the very obvious fact that he lives off the wealth of his parents and doesn't have to worry about anything when it comes to money... at least.

"i know what you're thinking," he says, not reactive of any kind.

"no but seriously, what do you do all day?" you ask, genuinely curious and interested this time.

he just quirks his lips, responding in the most lax tone, "enjoying life and doing what anyone in their 20s would?"

you scoff and shake your head.

you really do wish to be as untroubled and carefree as san is. the way he deals with and confronts everything as if there isn't a single thing to lose.

“it definitely bothered me at first, but i didn’t see why i should be losing sleep over it. me and yunho are two very different people after all who does our own things. i’m proud of what he’s achieved so far, and he’s always had my back when needed.”

you almost can't help but to have the tiniest respect for him in that regard.

"good to know." you giggle. "but what's the plan after?"

"working on it. but not really in the hurry to rush it or anything."

you nod courtly at that, another sinking thought about how similar, yet different the two of you really are.

growing up, you've never really paid much attention to san, always writing him off as annoying and obnoxious, but when left with no choice but to face him on a deeper level, you can't help but to notice the stark differences despite relating to him more than yunho.

"and you... are you really moving? like forreal?" he says, tone a soft worried that you almost want to believe he would be sad about you leaving... being this adamant and all.

"yeah," you answer, the disappointment befalling his expression completely flying over your radar. "forreal."

"but why?" he pushes.

you shrug, everything about you relaxed--as opposed to the boy standing across as he tries to digest the very big possibility of you going away, and most likely for a long time.

"i told you i wanted to travel."

"that's moving to a whole different country," he states the obvious, much to a laughter from you as the uneasiness on him only becomes more transparent.

you laugh some more, going on to say, "don't tell me you're actually gonna be sad?" your lips forming a frown after to tease him, and for the very first time, you think san might've blushed a little.

he opens his mouth as you watch curiously, but the moment shortly disrupted by the sound of san's phone going off.

"delivery will be here in 10 minutes," he tells you still holding the device in his hand before he tosses it aside.

"i also just want to try being on my own for a while," you bring the topic back into discussion when it seems like he isn't gonna answer the question.

you add, "if i do get moved, it will be on my own accord and everything will be from my own pockets... not my parents or anyone else. boss said i have about two months and i most likely will have to train the replacement but i think it's all gonna be worth it."

you're unable to read into san's reaction, silence filling the air until he finally speaks again.

"if you want to learn to be on your own, why don't you just get a place first? you know, instead of moving across the country. as someone in the current position, it's pretty nice if i say so myself."

your lips draw into a thin line, not because he's wrong but because you've never actually thought of that. you pretty much did just jumped ship into the next big step.

"i've uh... i didn't think of that," you mumble, the words cracking a smile on san's face before a snicker rolls out.

"jesus, y/n. a bit dramatic aren't you?"

"shut up," you hiss.

as the night goes on, any doubts and worries are long forgotten when the chatters with san would go on even after the food's arrival, both chewing and talking at the same time like you're never gonna run out of topics.

the eating soon turns into a search for something to watch while the two of you squabble about anything and everything, forgetting what the hell you're even fighting him about and being surprised you could even get this worked up without the help of alcohol.

and after you're both finally worn out from the long night; the foods on the coffee table now empty and dry and the tv running for far too long, you help clean the place up when it seems he's fallen asleep and quietly make your way out of the condo shortly after.

tuesday 4:32 p.m.

san: how about this one? looks really nice and is kind of close to my place 🙂

san: *attachment*

y/n: that looks way too fancy and expensive

y/n: i just want something that's enough for one person

it's impressive; the fact san even entertained the idea of leaving everything you've already got in mind to settle for something else, but even more so that you're even considering it.

getting a place of your own and learning to live on yourself would be a lot more doable than moving across the sea and away from everyone and everything you've grown up with.

you suppose it's not a bad idea. you're just not sure if it's the right one.

san: you're not gonna find anything if you're gonna be this picky 🙄

y/n: i'm just looking

y/n: if i'm really gonna stay, i'd do the search myself

san: 😢

you don't even realize how san starts weaving into your daily life and just integrating himself into it; whether through small, mindless texts, or bigger ones like actually inviting you out or over to his place (more frequently, at least).

wednesday 1:20 p.m.

san: what time do you finish work today

y/n: i always finish at 6

san: wanna come over? i got a game we can play 🙂

y/n: it better not that stupid truth or dare

san: ☹️

san: it's not

san: it's truth or dare spin the bottle

y/n: 🥱

san won't admit how fast he came at the sound of the first knock, and you also won't admit that despite him looking very much the same, there's something different about him lately.

something you can't pinpoint but it's almost as if he's gotten more attractive somehow even though you've never really cared about any of that.

"did you wear that to work?" he comments on your outfit as you make way past him and settling inside.

"yes," you answer dryly, tone soon overturning. "what? you think i was gonna get pretty?" you smirk.

he shrugs, mumbling a "maybe" that you quietly let pass to take off your shoes.

"wanna see a few places i've looked up?" he beams, going over to the laptop that was on the kitchen counter and running over to you on the couch with it.

"why not," you mumble, scooting closer, shoulder bumping into his nonchalantly.

you watch him scroll through the abundance of luxurious condos alike his, opting to raise your brow and turn to him.

"why are they all high-profile and in gangnam?" you question.

"pfft," he scoffs, facing you head on, standing the closest he's ever been to you in a long while and remarking, "it's not like you can't afford it. come on, y/n."

"i can't." you move away from him. "if i even get a place, it's gonna be with my own savings, not my parents. i definitely can't afford a place like these. can we please look at something a little less flashy?"

he shakes his head and eventually changes the area, but an hour into the search and you're still not satisfied. the prices are either not doable or the layouts and amenities aren't to your heart's content.

"let's continue this another day," you sigh out, throwing your head back and groaning as san chuckles.

"fine," he gives in, shutting the laptop and moving it out of sight. "you're so picky."

"well you got to be. i'm sure you didn't pick this place out in a day," you say at the same time you look around.

on your own, there's no way you'd ever be able to get anything like this.

"and you don't think it's nice?"

"are you kidding?" you say in disbelief. "it's amazing. if i had the money, it might as well be my dream place. but it's okay. i can also settle for much less as long as it accommodates all my needs."

san can't help but laugh, because he thinks you're both the snazziest person he's ever met, but also the most tame, it's a bit uncharacteristic of someone who grew up wealthy all her life.

"fair enough," he says, standing up abruptly to go grab at an empty beer bottle also on the counter which you're sure he most likely prepared for, given his next set of words.

"how about spin the bottle but no dares. we can only ask questions and the person has to answer truthfully." he places it on the coffee table.

you snap to him at that with something uneasy in your eyes, prompting a comment from him.

"you scared?" he tease.

"what? no," you blow.

"then what are we waiting for?" san doesn't hesitate with one of his hands already on the bottle but you have to stop him in the process to ask one more question.

"what kind of questions though?"

it takes him maybe a second for a light smirk to crawl out of him and with a shrug, telling you, "any."

you eye the bottle on the table anxiously as it circles and clinks; not afraid of the idea of the game but more so that you're playing with san and he's gonna ask the wildest shit.

fortunately, san shoots himself in the foot.

"oh fuck, it's me."

it's your turn to smirk, letting out an almost sarcastic, "yeah."

"knock yourself out. i'm an open book."

you roll your eyes because you know he is, which is why trying to come up with something that will even faze him is gonna be a challenge.

"most embarrassing thing you have done at a party?"

he scoffs it off in amusement, like he can't believe you're even asking that.

"i thought you could do worse, y/n. but sure."

he hesitates and hums for a few seconds more before answering, "got high as fuck and almost kissed wooyoung."

a dry snicker actually escapes from your lips at the confession.

"yeah i always suspected you guys had a thing for each other."

"please don't," he says in pure disgust. "i love wooyoung forreal but no amount of high can get me to kiss the man."

you laugh, now actually the one to initiate the spin because you think it can turn out fun. you think.

and thankfully, it's not you that have to answer a question, again.

"wow," san only silently curses the double misfortunate.

"how many people have you slept with?" you blurt, bold and straightforward, san even slightly taken aback.

"don't ask questions that will break your heart."

"tsk." you roll your eyes. "you could sleep with the entire population of earth and i wouldn't give a shit."

"not even the tiniest bit?" he plays on in that voice you hate because it's always when he's trying to flirt with you.

"i'd give the tiniest shit about everyone else because poor them."

"sharp," he retracts, the amusement all over his face. "but to answer your question, maybe eight? ten? to be honest, i've lost count."

"good to know," you reply nonchalantly, nodding for him to spin the bottle this time, but you know it's only so long before your luck eventually runs out, and so it does.

"ha," he says in victory, the top of the bottle pointing at you.

"i'll go easy, don't worry just yet," he teases annoyingly, you almost want to knock your foot into his.

"what did you think of me when we first met?"

you quirk your lips and pretend to think although you already know the answer.

"well, i thought you were gonna be sweet, but that was until i got to actually know you. then you were just annoying and a pervert."

he bursts out in genuine laughter and yeah, you think he's cute and endearing like this but 95% of the time, he's getting on your nerves.

the game continues on with a back and forth of innocent enough questions; just laughing and scoffing off the ridiculousness, and you're starting to think he might spare you, until the next one turns your eyes a dark one.

"what is it about yunho that made you like him so much?"

and again, you've already stated so many times why you like him. his kindness. his attitude. the way he presents himself. the way he treats you. but if you have to pick one.

"it just seems as if he accepted me for who i am. i don't know."

the way the atmosphere shifts is scary; both of the smiles on your lips wiped and replaced by unreadable expressions as san quiets without a reply, you have to be the one to speak again.

"and you... w-why are you helping me?" you ask him.

"huh?" he repeats just so there's no mistake.

"we don't even like each other and i pretty much treat you like shit but you still seem rather concerned about my wellbeing for whatever reason."

it has gotten so silent by now, you can hear san swallowing.

"you're the one who always says you don't like me. i never said i don't like you."

it's your turn to swallow, staring back at him with nervous eyes because you're not sure how to take the statement just now or what exactly he really means.

"i just thought the feeling was mutual," you mumble, shrugging lightly.

"no. i think you just didn't care enough to ask me," he says with a dry chuckle because he's right and even you know it. your mind at the time too occupied with his brother instead.

"so like, you really don't want me to leave?" you take the opportunity to tease him, a tone on you almost unrecognizable that you think even made san a bit nervous and shy.

"you could say that," he talks lowly, on the verge of stuttering. "i've known you almost my whole life."

"and if i did?" you ask, voice turning a more serious one as the words make an etch in san's heart. it hurts to even think of the possibility.

"then i would be really upset."

you watch his eyes and lips go soft, something so genuine and sincere in his response that makes you just freeze up before breaking the tension with a forced snicker.

"you still have some time to change my mind," you encourage, because you wish for there to be bigger reasons to stay so you won't regret the could of, even if san has to be that reason.

some might call it healing, some might call it a rebound if that even applies at all, but san successfully weaves himself into your life like a routine that you're no longer fazed by a morning text or even a goodnight one.

the way he'd just check up on you during work or call during the weekends to ask how you're doing and if you're up for something together.

it's a bit pathetic he's pretty much your only friend (and even that's a reach) at this point, but you genuinely enjoy his company.

he listens well, is fun to be around, and is almost like a life-long friend who's been missing your whole life.

but while those are the ups of being with san, there's also the downs--such as the long list of girls that'd constantly ring his phone or send him a text while the two of you are together, and while that isn't any of your business, that doesn't stop the few doubts that manages to plague your mind.

are you interrupting anything? does it make you a bitch for hanging with him when he has other girls lined up? does all of this even mean anything when you could very much just be one of them?

that maybe even if there's a possibility, you could never fully give and commit yourself to someone like san because it doesn't seem like he's ready to settle for anyone.

he haven't ever had a relationship that lasted more than a few months and you haven't ever known him to have less than two option on the table.

which might be why you were so much more attracted to yunho, because in comparison, yunho seemed like he would give away his heart and soul for just you.

but you know that, though. you knew that's how san is. you shouldn't have expected anything else, but you still can't help but to feel a strange, unfamiliar sense of loathing when he's distracted by another girl.

"i talked to the landlord a few days ago and she said if i wanted to see the apartment for myself, she would be more than happy to show me," you tell san over a late night eat out; the restaurant about to close in an hour but you're sure he's not listening because his head snaps to the text he got just now.

he still attempts to sound like it's the current topic holding his attention, which you have to give him credits for.

"that's good," he shortly says, fingers fast to type something on his phone before pushing it away. "so how many more days left again?"

"about two weeks, give or take," you respond, poking at your fries with the fork.

two weeks before you'll have to make the ultimate choice to leave or stay.

it's been that long, time just flying before your very eyes to the point where yunho's presence lingering around the house for the sole purpose of your sister almost no longer does an effect to you.

"wow. already?"

"yeah."

san offers to pay for the meal and drive you home instead of the usual catching a movie at his place before the actual end of the night and it's not like you're gonna fight him on it.

he's not your boyfriend and he definitely doesn't have any obligations to follow through any routines or whatever, so why are you all of a sudden feeling so tense about it?

tense and bitter about the fact that after he drives you home, there's a likely chance there's gonna be another girl at his place.

you think you're losing it.

you had let yourself indulge more and more into the possibility of staying, which was how you found the place that you could practically call ideal.

though it's only one bedroom, the modern but warm-toned style of the complex as a whole, as well as the location and pretty much everything else is convenient and accommodates all your needs.

when you had finally set a time and meeting with the landlord, you fell in love even harder in person because the second she opened the door to the place, it was like you knew this is it.

you think it can work out. you think you can see a future in this place; in this city still. and you have been much brighter and happier lately, even telling your boss the following day that there's a big chance you're gonna change your mind about the move given time is creeping up.

you had sent a text to san so excited because you want to tell him in person, every day the chance of you actually staying increasing by the second and he had told you he'd be available tomorrow night.

despite the conflicts swirling in your stomach a week ago, san had made up for it by being attentive as usual and making you feel like he really cares about you that the occasional rings and texts not from you were starting to become bearable.

after all, what does he owe you?

you're content with just having someone to talk and share your day with. you think you can live with that.

but you didn't expect nor think that all it'd take for the doubts to settle in again is to actually face the reality of your situation, making your way to san's place as promised and seeing a familiar face on the way in.

long hair and with a frame you've definitely seen before, it's hard to ignore the sensation she manages to conjure by just merely passing you.

“why don’t you ask the one person that would actually know where he is? or are you too good for that, too?”

you squint, confused, until he nods his head another direction and you follow, landing right into the view of the kitchen and to someone you know all too well just from the back.

his hands on some poor girl’s waist and lips running along with hers as her grip tightened at his disheveled hair, his body pressing her forward onto the counter, the both of them making out like there won’t be a tomorrow.

“no thanks,” you dismiss, managing to reframe from an eyeroll, pushing past hongjoong but not before you catch the smirk on him.

it wasn't the first time you saw her with san, because if it was, your body wouldn't have recognized her so easily as if she's a threat, replacing all the excitement and hope with nothing but old and plain insecurities.

then it's as if everything was a mistake.

choosing to stay because of san and with nothing but the hope that it will all work out... instead of going away on your own for some time and learning to really be independent.

your whole life, you've already been nothing but emotionally dependent on someone else, looking to them as a source of support, and you've realized that this time, it isn't any different.

you've just moved from yunho to san... and you didn't even like san for the longest time.

so how long before it will hit you that staying was a mistake; and especially that choosing to stay because of san was gonna be the biggest one of them all.

you have the tendency to catch feelings way too fast, and even if not romantic which you won't admit in this case (even if it might be), you react strongly to it and the feeling is consuming.

because how long before san will leave you the way yunho did?

everything may seem good for now but they will all meet the same ending. and to think of everything in perspective this way, you know you're not meant to stay.

your parents, yunho and your sister, san...

you don't feel ready for any of them currently, your life stuck at a point where you're not moving. and so you just turn back around and head home.

you think long and hard just to be sure this is what you want; then you think of how to tell your boss tomorrow, and about an hour later, you finally get a text from san.

san: you still coming? you said you have something to tell me

y/n: something came up sorry

y/n: i was just gonna tell you that i've made up my mind and i think i'm gonna go to japan

a/n: i am truly sorry for having been gone a while only to come back with crumbs, but i hope y'all enjoyed this mess & will anticipate it finally coming to an end the following chapter <3 lmk if i missed anyone on the taglist cuz i have not touched it in 4ever fr

taglist: @freeandrealme @shingene @cookiechristie @softie00 @crimson-mia @hexheathen @lixpixstix @atinytease @turtash @moonseonghwa @kkayfan @curryramyeon @justineasian @sannie-pudding @itsokaytobedumb00 @nerdy-kimchi @fannyxmh @acciocriativity @mel-the-mad-hatter @eastleighsblog @diorwoo @devilsmatches @kyume02 @distvrbia @wonwowzers @endeav0rsb1tch @sannwa @brown88 @sangiluvem @eburneon @hotteokhatyu @yeosangsbiceps @sankatchu @lynnsqueendom @harusoraa @ad0rechuu @interweab @revehosh @byunniebaekhyunnie @nabi-sannie @gugggu6gvai @rockstarsanie @shakalakaboomboo @yeosangsbbg @yawnzshit @avantalem @lelaleleb @mountiiny @arinyyy @svintsandghosts @yoongiworshiper @raineadlr @tunaasan @chickenscoups @nevieatiny

#ateez angst #san x reader #choi san x reader #ateez x reader #ateez series #yunho x reader #ateez masterlist #masterlist #kpop masterlist #ateez san

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