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icouldntcareless22 · 2 months

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Hearts Awakened, Live Alive

demon!mingi x human!reader

fantasy au (inspired by howl's moving castle)

word count: ~26k

genres: fluff, really angsty, suggestive, mention of hostage situation, violence warnings, whiplash warning lol

synopsis: you finally run away from the clutches of your stepmother and encounter mingi, infamously known as 'the child of shadows'. you join his gang of three- the high healer wooyoung and the white flame seonghwa and start living with them. you find out mingi is cursed to share a body with the shadow demon that goes by the name erebos and start falling for it and mingi eventually, though tragic consequences await you as you find out more about the demon's curse.

manager-nim: @eightmakesonebraincell (we were writing diff fics side by side on docs and messed up the tenses so bad)

The last thing you remembered as you woke up after what had to be another fainting spell was that your wrists had been tied together and you were locked in the tower of your house– but as you looked around and found nothing but the woods and greens of the forests, you started to feel dread creep up your chest and bubble out in the form of a short sob.

You spent only a few seconds trying to recall how you got here- you had run away from home and this time, you had succeeded, but now you needed to get as far away from the town as possible. You got up, not bothering to brush the leaves and dirt off your cloak and instead tried to figure out what direction you had been aiming for- the setting sun. Thankfully, it wasn’t dark just yet so you followed the rays of the sun and started running a little more carefully this time, head still dizzy from the overwhelmingness of the situation.

Sieun’s plan was perfect. She was one of the servants back at the castle house, a place that had once been your home when your father was still alive- under the reign of your stepmother, though, everything had gone to hell. She was the only one who had dared to help you escape and succeeded. You did not want to think about what had happened to those who failed.

You licked your dry lips and wondered if the sound of water you could hear was actually a stream or just a bait- afterall, this was a town of mages. It might be a trick to lure people- but…

There was someone else in your town now, someone feared by mages and humans alike. ‘The Child of Shadows’, they called him among his many other names. You had only heard rumours about him and you weren’t sure if they were true. What you did know was that as a mere human, you had to avoid him at absolutely all costs. You’d had enough of living in the shadows already.

The sun was starting to set so you decided to find shelter and followed the sound of the stream. The running water was cool to touch and you washed your face and hands before drinking it. You searched in the pockets of your cloak, finding a piece of bread and devouring it in a few bites, almost choking on it- you felt a sudden sense of dread when you realised that something about this whole situation was off-

Silence. It was awfully silent- you didn’t realise when the birds stopped chirping and the bugs stopped buzzing- not even the sound of a leaf in the air. The water and the unsteady beats of your heart were the only thing you could hear. You gulped, trying to recall when exactly the forest fell silent when you heard the sounds of leaves rustling behind you. You whipped your head around and pulled the knife out of your sleeve, pointing it at-

Not one, but a bunch of soldiers. You immediately put your knife back.

“Are you lost, miss?” One of them asked, a middle aged man with a unique moustache. “You look pale.”

“No, I… I’m travelling so I just stopped to eat-”

“Travelling? Alone?” Another soldier said, not buying your story. “Miss, you know the protocols, right? We would need to see your identification.”

This was it.

Without any identification, travelling alone? They were going to put you behind bars. That would be better than going back to the dungeons of your house, you thought, as the little spark of hope you had been harbouring ever since you escaped started to dim-

“She’s not alone,” a deep, raspy voice boomed and for a moment you froze, wondering if it had reverberated inside you. You found yourself unable to turn, instead letting the source of the voice come in your vision.

Nothing about him screamed normal, from his ragged appearance to his unmistakable dark aura, and even the soldiers took a step back. You remained frozen as he passed you a glance- such sharp eyes- and dug something from his bag, showing it to the soldiers. They looked from the card to you and back, straightening, and as if a spell had been casted over them, they bowed and turned back to join their squad.

The man who had just saved you turned and you scanned him again- hair swept back in black and blue spikes adding more sharpness to his pointy features, the dark cloak on his broad body not helping with the air he exuded-

“Who are you?” You managed to ask, taking a step back and finally understanding why the soldiers had too.

He passed an awkward smile and held his bag close. “Just a passerby.”

“What did you show to the soldiers? And where did you come from?”

“So many questions for someone who’s travelling alone, in this state,” he glanced at your rags hidden under your cloak before stepping towards you and you reflexively pointed your knife at him, making him scoff in amusement. “I’m sorry but this knife won’t do much to me,” he waved a hand and the knife turned to ashes and you gaped at it.

“You’re a mage…” your heart sank to your feet- you really were done for this time. He shrugged and started down on the path, turning to you after a few steps.

“Aren’t you gonna follow me?”

You hated how his voice made you obey instantly- more out of curiosity than fear, which was new considering the stories you’d heard about mages. Your own experience with mages was not the best either. You cleared your throat, falling just a step behind him and matching his pace from there. “Where are we going?”

“Where are you going? You seemed to have run away,” he said casually. You wondered if he often encountered runaways on the road.

“I just need to get as far away from this town as possible,” you almost shivered and he nodded.

“I’m travelling anyway. I don’t mind if you join- as long as you don’t make too much noise.”

“I can be as silent as a pin,” you told him and he glanced at you in amusement.

“Aren’t you scared of travelling with a stranger?” You ignored that, wondering what you would do if he tried something with you. However, his shoulders shook from laughter and he said, “Relax. I’m not alone either- I have company.”

You should have known that by company he meant more mages, and you were cursing internally at the thought of being surrounded by mages, because what if someone decided to take advantage of the fact that you were a mere human? Your stepmother had, even when she was human herself- and all she wanted was for you to hand over your assets to her. You wouldn’t put it past this bunch to not do the same.

What you didn’t expect was how incredibly normal they seemed. Their appearance? Not so much, but the way they approached the mage who accompanied you? You frowned as you watched their comfortable interaction- you couldn’t sense anything from them that would give you a hint of who they were, but you wondered if you were the only one who felt that dark, crushing aura of your companion.

“And who’s our new guest?” The man with white hair approached with a gentle smile though he passed a sceptical glance at your companion. “Another one, Mingi? Already?”

“What do you mean, already, it’s been a few decades. Don’t scare her off,” the shorter one tsk-ed at him and approached you with the warmest smile. “I’m Jung Wooyoung- you can call me Wooyoung. You might know me as the High Healer-”

“Wooyoung-”

“The High Healer?” You gasped.

Wooyoung folded his arms. “Yes?”

You looked at the other two in disbelief but when they didn’t react, you shook your head, trying to make sense of it. “You’re the High Healer.”

“I am,” Wooyoung’s voice was low and contained a hint of worry. “What’s the matter?”

You had been out to find him.

“Nothing, just-” you looked at the man who had accompanied you. “Who are you then?”

“Song Mingi,” he told you and you raised a brow, expecting more but he didn’t give in. You looked at the white-haired man.

“Park Seonghwa. The White Flame,” he muttered and you nodded- you had heard of him, alright. The Fallen Angel. You were wondering if that really was the case or if it was just a title he earned because he looked like one. “Did you lose your way while travelling?”

“I ran away,” you straightened- might as well pretend not to be a coward than quivering in their company. The healer hooted at that and you were once again surprised by the man’s behaviour- nothing like your father had told you. “You’re not how I imagined you to be.”

“Ah, I get that a lot,” he winked, “Everyone imagines a boring old balding man with a long beard, don’t they?”

“I mean,” you shrugged. “You are supposed to be old, aren’t you?”

“I’m not even that old,” he waved his hand dismissively. “They’ve got multiple centuries over me- they’re older.”

“Centuries?” You gaped at Mingi- you weren’t surprised about the White Flame- he was as old as time itself, and you wondered if part of his magic was exuding a calm air so you wouldn’t panic in his presence. Because nothing about the White Flame shook you to the core like Mingi’s presence did.

“That’s enough,” Mingi exhaled. “Let’s go home.”

You followed the three, wondering what was up with this odd bunch- the White Flame and the High Healer living in the same place didn’t make sense at all. So who was this Song Mingi? You tried recalling anything that rung a bell, but-

You paused when the three abruptly stopped and watched Mingi wave a hand in the air, and what you saw next took your breath away- it was as if a layer of fog had been lifted and you could suddenly see-

“That’s your home?”

Ruins was what it was. A house falling apart on itself. It was as if someone had gathered planks of wood and nailed them wherever they could- there were windows, yes, but everything was absolutely crooked.

Mingi turned slowly to glare at you, once again making you gulp. Wooyoung butted in between the two of you. “The inside is not that bad, I promise.”

Mingi and Seonghwa ignored the two of you, talking in hushed voices as they started to go inside. You stood frozen in place, feeling an odd sense of danger and calm battling for dominance within you. Wooyoung nudged you along but when you stopped again, he asked, “Do you not want to come inside?”

“Should I?” You locked eyes with him. “I’ve heard you’re a good person, High Healer.”

“I’ve heard that too,” he said with a smug smile.

“People- humans trust you. You help them, right?” When he nodded, you continued. “Tell me then, would I regret joining the three of you? Even if it’s for just one night?”

“If it’s for one night? Not really. You could be on your way tomorrow. But if you choose to stay,” Wooyoung pursed his lips. “I can’t guarantee you won’t regret it.”

“Well, at least you’re candid about it,” you started walking and Wooyoung grinned. “Just know I wouldn’t be walking towards that ‘house’ right now if it weren’t for you.”

“You seem to know me,” Wooyoung’s eyes twinkled. “Have we met?”

You simply smiled- he wouldn’t know you. This was your first time meeting him as well, however, your father was acquainted with him. You decided not to mention it to him right now.

The house did look better inside, you had to agree- it was a mess, still, but it did look like people were actually living in it. Seonghwa was in the kitchen and you tried to let the image of the White Flame doing dishes sink in. Wooyoung was laughing loudly at your expressions and you awkwardly glanced around, taking off your cloak and sitting by the fireplace.

“I always get such a kick out of whenever someone sees Seonghwa in the kitchen,” Wooyoung wiped his eyes, handing you a glass of what looked like orange juice which you gladly accepted. “Who would have thought the White Flame was obsessed with keeping his kitchen clean, right?”

“I don’t know where all of you got the impression that I would be doing something else,” Seonghwa muttered. “I have a house to manage and two kids to take care of.”

“Two children?” You frowned and Wooyoung guiltily raised his hand, you realised he was referring to Wooyoung and Mingi as the two kids. You looked at Wooyoung, “Well, where are the others?”

“What others?”

“You said you get a kick out of people watching Seonghwa in the kitchen. Do you often have visitors or are there others here?”

When Seonghwa and Wooyoung met eyes and shared a look, you knew whatever he’d tell you would be a lie so you decided to ask something else. “What happens to those who decide to stay with you for longer than a day?”

“You’re very sceptical of us,” Seonghwa tossed the washcloth in the sink and folded his arms as he leaned against the counter to almost glare at you. “If you’re going to keep asking questions when we’ve given you shelter, you might as well leave at the crack of dawn.”

And, there it was. Your suspicions that Seonghwa was making a conscious effort to emanate a calm air were confirmed when you felt a shift in the air and something heavy started settling in your heart, making your throat feel tight. Wooyoung called Seonghwa’s name in warning.

“Let’s be patient with a curious guest, we don’t often get that,” he waved dismissively and Seonghwa went back to fiddling with the utensils. You didn’t realise how hard you were clutching the glass until Wooyoung patted your back. “Don’t mind him. He’s so old he gets cranky sometimes. Would you like to take a tour of the mansion?”

“Mansion?” You almost laughed and he grinned.

“What better name to call this beauty?” He looked around and as if on cue, a pipe at the far end of the room burst, spraying water and startling all of you. Seonghwa muttered a curse under his breath before he went to examine it and you turned to the healer in amusement.

“Sure,” you smiled. “I would like a tour.”

—--------------------

The thing about mages was that they did not care for humans. They really, really didn’t- they were not humans. They would not understand the simple human struggles, such as why they always think selfishly- humans had a shorter lifespan after all, unlike most mages. Mages also didn’t quite understand that some humans had more things to worry about than death- there were more important things.

Such as finally being able to live.

You were sitting in front of the fireplace in the middle of the night, not quite sleepy. You reckoned it was because you still hadn’t made a decision- did you want to leave? What would you do if you left? How far could you make it travelling on your own, really? Sooner or later, someone was going to take advantage of you and you would meet a fate worse than death- something similar to what your life had been before you finally ran away from home.

And if you decided to stick with these mages…

“What are you doing here?”

You turned to the source of voice, identifying his presence first. Mingi. Why did his voice feel different this time? You straightened your dress and posture, not feeling a need to answer, wondering if it was the lack of sleep that was making you hear things-

“I asked you something.”

You frowned as you looked at him again- yes, he was Mingi, but why did he sound… different?

“Just… thinking.”

“About?”

“I thought you’d know that- it is you all who gave me the ultimatum,” you narrowed your eyes as you scanned him- he was wearing a cloak. Was he going out at this hour of the night?

“Ah, did we?” He suddenly sounded… cockier. You watched him step closer and pick something from the mantel and bury it in his pockets before you could see it. When he turned, you noticed the colour of his eyes now that the fire illuminated half of his face-

His eyes were almost glowing.

“Say, would you like some fresh air?” He suggested and you all but gaped at his sudden change of demeanour.

“Why would I go out to get some fresh air with someone I don’t even know at this hour of the night?”

“Well, you are staying in a house with three strangers who just happen to be mages, aren’t you?” He shifted his weight to one leg. “I told them not to let more of you humans in, but they always insist it’s for ‘the better’.”

“Why?” You dared to ask.

“Why would mages welcome human company, right?” Mingi scoffed. “Think about that before you go to sleep tonight, little bird.”

Even though your heart sank, you dared to ask, “Would you mind if I stayed?”

His almost devilish smirk made you wish you had never asked that. He stepped closer, slowly, until he was right in front of you and you had to crane your neck to meet his eyes. You let him trace the side of your face, feeling in your bones first that this wasn’t the person you had met in the woods, not the one with the warm smile who had saved you, not the one who had been so hesitant to meet your eyes.

This wasn’t Song Mingi.

“Who are you?” You almost whispered and his eyes twinkled.

“I’m the shadows that you fear, little bird,” his voice sounded ancient, spreading like the very shadows he mentioned around you. He patted your cheek once, almost condescendingly, before disappearing and you wondered just what you were getting into. “And you should fly away when you still have the chance.”

You, of course, decided to stay. Simply out of spite.

You have always been like this. When your father died, you were far too young to exercise your authority and influence as the inheritor of the noble title and all of his assets, and you let your stepmother take advantage of you as you succumbed to grief. But as the grief started becoming something like background and you finally realised how you were trapped, you decided you would never let anyone get the better of you again.

Your stepmother had treated you like an inconvenience, and as you started rebelling, it took the shape of an ugly war. You, however, did not have anyone who had your back. Your stepmother had influence around town and she used that, hired mages to put wards around her house to keep you from leaving. You always asked her why she wouldn’t simply let you go. Perhaps, she was afraid she would lose. But it got to the point that you wondered if she was paranoid- especially when she started using numbing potions on you, locking you in a room in the tower.

Now that you hadn’t had that potion in two days, it was as if you were finally regaining your senses. The world was clearer and you felt awake for once. You owed it all to Sieun who had gained your stepmother’s trust, only to pretend to give you those numbing potions and a chance to run away. You could do nothing but pray she wasn’t locked in that tower like you, that she didn’t meet a fate worse than you did.

So maybe, it was spite. Maybe you simply didn’t want to be told what to do anymore that you decided to stick with this odd group of mages and see where it took you- after all, you had nowhere to go.

But it was also slightly because you knew you could trust the healer because your father had told you so, and because you were so intrigued about who this Song Mingi was. He had to be someone you had heard about- he felt too powerful to be a simple mage. He was too old to be a simple mage. The White Flame you had heard enough tales about. But…

A knock sounded on your door and you, who had been in the middle of making the bed, cleared your throat. The door opened and a mess of white hair greeted you, eyes curious.

“I’m surprised you didn’t run away in the night,” Seonghwa commented and you shrugged. “Slept well?”

“Not really, but that’s the nerves,” you finished straightening the duvet, glancing around. “And might also be the abundance of spiders in your ‘beautiful mansion’.”

“Ah, I swear I cleaned this room two days ago but the spiders keep coming,” he stood awkwardly in the doorway and you had to stop and stare at him- was he actually taking you seriously? “So you decided to stay?”

“For now,” you nodded slowly. “If you’re fine with it?”

“Oh, I don’t care,” Seonghwa admitted. “Wooyoung would love to talk to someone else other than the two of us too.”

“And… Mingi?”

Seonghwa raised a brow and you felt a shift in the air that almost made you bend. You frowned in confusion but Seonghwa was eyeing you knowingly. “Did you talk to him in private or something?”

“In the middle of the night…” you told him. “He basically told me to go away.”

“Ah. But you’re staying?”

“Yes,” you folded your arms. “That’s not a problem, is it?”

“Not at all,” he said with a smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes. “But a word of advice for you- stay in your own room during the night. You don’t want to see things that you won’t like.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “That’s for me to decide, but thank you.”

Seonghwa shook his head in mild amusement. “I guess the potion is wearing off.”

“You can tell?” You wowed. Of course he could. He was a mage.

“You’re not the same person who almost cowered at our feet,” he tilted his head up a fraction, making you wonder if he was looking down at you- in every sense possible. “I like you better this way, but now I know what to do if you become too much-”

“You would not-”

Seonghwa paused- you sounded like a wounded animal but there was a hint of threat in there which made him intrigued despite himself. Somehow, he could relate to you in that moment, share the sense of once being trapped by your own people even though a lifetime had passed for him.

“I would not,” he assured you, this time without a smile. “Join us for breakfast?”

You exhaled somewhat in relief and followed him downstairs, surprised to see everyone on the table. You wondered if ‘breakfast’ was a regular thing here. You could not remember the last time you sat at a table to eat- you were too used to seating yourself in corners.

And you could not move when Seonghwa pushed out a chair for you. When he cleared his throat, you finally came back to your senses and sat, studying the others. Wooyoung waved at you and Mingi seemed to be too interested in his almost finished plate.

“Help yourself,” Wooyoung pushed a plate of eggs towards you. “I’m a good cook.”

“I’m sure you are…” you felt the need to take a nibble first, see if you could detect the faint scent of lavender in it which was a key ingredient for any numbing potion- however, you knew that the White Flame could probably read your thoughts from your body language alone. He was called the ‘Seer of the Hearts’ for a reason. So you stomped on your hesitation and took a bite-

Of the most heavenly eggs you could have ever tasted.

“There’s no way you did not mix magic in that,” you muttered to yourself, mostly, but Wooyoung caught that.

“I do not mix magic with my daily routine, I’m a healer,” Wooyoung laughed. “I’m glad you think it’s good. People here don’t really appreciate good food and the effort behind it, you know?”

You glanced at Mingi who sported a faint smile. “Tastes normal enough to me.”

You knew they were teasing each other- bickering back and forth so naturally in an argument about who was the best cook in the house. You couldn’t help but wonder if that is how they usually were, and Mingi-

He sounded like the same person you had met in the woods. Not the one who talked to you last night. No hint of that cockiness nor a sharp glint in the eyes. He sounded warm.

“Well,” Mingi, who had just finished eating, spoke out loud, seemingly addressing you and you straightened, breaking out of your trance. “Have you decided if you want to stay?”

“So the decision is in my hands?” You asked with a raise of brow, not able to hold yourself back. Seonghwa looked at you in warning but you ignored that. “I thought you decided for me last night.”

And then something flashed in his eyes making you wonder if you were imagining it. “Sorry if it seemed that way.”

Again, you were confused. “I think I’ll stay after all, and see what exactly are those shadows that I should fear.”

That made Mingi drop his fists on the table as he almost glared at you.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Mingi-”

“No,” Mingi interrupted Wooyoung. “If she’s staying, she should know who I am. She should know to stay away from me- and she shouldn’t be here for much longer. There’s only so much I can do about this.”

You wiped your hands as you processed what he said- you had asked him who he was last night.

“Take it slow,” Seonghwa reminded him softly. “We do not make our guests feel unwelcome, Mingi, you know that.”

Mingi slumped back in his seat then, muttering an apology and you did the same, making the High Healer stifle his smile. “Kids, both of you. You should know that Mingi is publicly called ‘The Child of Shadows’ though, before you decide to stay. We don’t want you to think that we tricked you into staying or something.”

Seonghwa groaned loudly but you couldn’t hear that, because-

The Child of Shadows.

You had heard enough tales about him. The mage who could make you think you were blind in broad daylight. The mage who drove the best insane, the one who made you face years worth of nightmares in a second. The Cursed, the Prophesied, they also called him, though you had heard quite a bit of variations of that one. Cursed why? Prophesied to do what? The question remained even after centuries-

Centuries over you, these three mages had. You had never felt smaller in your life before, so insignificant, so-

When Seonghwa called your name, that’s when you broke out of your trance. You found yourself out of breath and locked eyes with Mingi again.

I’m the shadows that you fear, little bird. And you should fly away when you still have the chance.

His words from last night rang in your head and you sighed internally. It was a miracle you were alive right now, but then you supposed if you didn’t encounter them, you would have been dead anyway. So you cleared your throat, reeling yourself back in. “I’m here.”

“I understand that you are scared,” Seonghwa smiled. “He doesn’t have the best reputation, does he?”

“None of you have, except The High Healer,” you looked at Wooyoung who smiled proudly. “I just don’t know what to believe. I know your magic is keeping me calm- part of it anyway,” you admitted to Seonghwa who seemed genuinely surprised that you knew. “But I don’t know what to expect.”

Seonghwa looked at Mingi who kept his face void of any emotions. “The Child of Shadows… There's a very simple reason he is called that. And he’s not as bad as they made him to be- I can vouch for that.”

“I’d like to believe that,” you almost whispered and Mingi met your eyes, something like understanding passing between you two- you had no idea what exactly you understood of Mingi now, but somehow, you weren’t sour about the events of last night anymore. “Mages must struggle with their own magic too, as humans struggle with… being human.”

Seonghwa smiled knowingly at Mingi who awkwardly stood up, glancing at the three of you. “I have some business in town so if you need something, let me know now. I’ll be back in the evening and then we will move.”

“Move where?” You asked.

“We’re travellers,” Wooyoung sighed dramatically. “We don’t have a place we can call home.”

“But what about this… mansion?” You asked, making the three chuckle.

You were in for a surprise. In the evening, after you spent the rest of the day lurking around and watching Seonghwa prepare food and Wooyoung experiment with his potions, Mingi arrived, seeming out of breath, hair all messy as if he had been on the run. Your suspicions were confirmed when he talked with Seonghwa in hushed voices and the two went outside. You glanced at Wooyoung who was observing you already.

“It’s normal. No one really likes them. Me, though? I’m the only reason we get to stay in one place for a while.”

You reckoned it was true- the High Healer was a mage that every human wanted to meet at least once in their lifetime- and not because he was a ‘healer’. His wisdom was for the books, though you had to say you never imagined the High Healer was this cheeky personally. You wondered if he was like this with everyone.

“You still haven’t told me how we’re gonna travel. Don’t you need to pack or something?”

Wooyoung smirked yet again, like he had been doing ever since the morning whenever you inquired about their means or mode of travel. You passed him an annoyed look and the doors burst open, the two looking as calm as they could.

“Fuel the engines, Wooyoung,” Seonghwa ordered. “I’m going to the roof- Mingi will wait until it’s time.”

“Fuel what engines?” Your voice shook and you went for the window to get a look outside, not finding any sort of a transport, much less one with an engine. You turned to see Wooyoung at the fireplace with one hand in the fire and you had to swallow an instinctive scream. Seonghwa had disappeared and you felt a tap on your arm.

“You might want to take a seat,” Mingi motioned to the table. “First time can be scary.”

“I don’t understand,” you confessed.

“You’ll see,” he placed a hand on your back, urging you to do as he said. Unconvinced, you sat down and braced yourself for the biggest surprise of your life-

It started with Wooyoung shouting okay and Seonghwa responding. When the utensils on the table started shaking a bit, you wondered if there was an earthquake and almost screamed when you felt the floor rock. You could practically feel the foundations of the house shaking as it rose, finally earning a scream from you which went unnoticed. You spotted Wooyoung who looked amused and you finally got it then.

This house moves.

You had never heard of such a thing in your life. Not even in the stories. Your horror turned into something like surprise and perhaps a little bit of glee as you walked cautiously towards Wooyoung, holding on to whatever was near for support and when he extended his hand, you took it.

“I could have had a heart attack, Wooyoung,” you finally laughed, more in disbelief.

“And that’s why they have a healer here,” his eyes twinkled with amusement and you found him scanning your face. You realised it was your first time laughing in years and your smile fell but you let a hint of it remain.

“How do you do it?”

Wooyoung explained the mechanics- it was basically running due to Seonghwa. They had figured this mechanism out a few decades ago- Wooyoung, who had a fire affinity, would fuel the house through the fireplace. The house had a soul at this point which was thanks to Seonghwa, and he admitted even he did not know how Seonghwa did it. You realised why he adored this house then, despite its tattered form- and perhaps, it was tattered due to all the travelling they did.

You also learned that without Mingi’s magic the house could not move. The shadows materialised and binded the house in places you could not see and they also worked as tyres. Wooyoung showed you how it looked through the window and you were amazed. You spotted Seonghwa dangling from the edge of the roof, moving his limbs as if he himself was driving the house but when he looked down and waved, you figured it must be for the initial kick.

“So where’s Mingi?” You finally asked, unable to hold back your curiosity.

“Outside the space in his room, maybe,” Wooyoung considered for a second. “You can go and see him if you like. You don’t have to be scared of him.”

You pursed your lips and when you started to inch away, Wooyoung smiled, motioning at you to go ahead. You started climbing the stairs, heart filled with profound feelings of appreciation for the structure that was doing its best to simply remain and not fall apart. A house built on magic and friendship- on love. You could appreciate that, because you knew that no matter how pretty or magnificent a house could look, it could still be the ugliest place to live in and feel like a prison.

You didn’t knock on his door since it was wide open and you could spot him standing outside with his hands extended towards the front, shadows surrounding him- black, inky fog. You figured he would detect your presence anyway so you just watched, not once feeling fear- strange since the townspeople cried when they heard his name-

Why? What had he done to earn that reputation? You did not understand how the Child of Shadows you knew from the rumours and stories from people around you was the same person who had the warmest gaze at times, who looked almost scared at times- especially when he had come back today.

However, it was not the warm gaze that greeted you when he turned his neck back to look at you. It was the same glowing eyes from last night- the ones that looked like silver stars dipped in shadows. And when his lips curved not in a smile but a smirk, you knew that he was not the same person you had breakfast with today.

Swallowing, you stepped forward as if possessed by those very shadows, as if they were moving your feet in the first place. You stopped by the window- the entrance to the little space outside, when he finally spoke.

“You stayed, little bird.”

You didn’t answer but stood beside him and watched how the magic worked. When you finally spoke, it was to say, “You’re not Mingi.”

“That’s the quickest a stranger has guessed, and the calmest they have been,” it smiled- this time, it was void of taunt. “What made you stay when I warned you of the consequences?”

“Exactly that,” you admitted, peeking up at it, liking how focused it looked. “I’ll die anyway.”

Mingi- or whoever was in that body, shrugged, so you asked it. “What are you?”

“Humans called me a demon before I possessed this body, so maybe I am a demon.”

You considered that- was that why Mingi was called the Child of Shadows? A shadow demon of sorts?

“Well, what’s your name then?”

It paused, the outstretched arms falling back as it turned to look at you and consider your question- in all of its time as a demon in a human vessel, no one had ever bothered to ask its name. Such a simple, human question yet it felt something bubbling in its throat- perhaps those human emotions it despised. Perhaps it was Mingi fighting back for conscious control. Whatever it was… the demon found it so strange that someone was not immediately quivering and kneeling despite the visible shadows around it, despite the knowledge that it was a demon as old as time, perhaps.

As if someone was looking at the demon itself for the first time- not Mingi’s eyes, but its own eyes.

“I might have forgotten my name,” it admitted. “I haven’t been called by my name in aeons.”

Aeons. Your heart sank and the demon felt that, but did not comment.

“What do they call you then? They must refer to you by some name, right?”

“They just call me Erebos.”

“So you won’t tell me what your name is?”

Again. The demon found itself looking at you and for the first time in a while, a genuine chuckle escaped it. You, amused, turned to look at the stretch of the night sky, not wanting it to feel satisfaction- if it could feel anything in the first place.

“You’re funny, little bird. I quite like you already.”

You shrugged. “I bet you say that to every human who talks to you. A demon starved of company.”

This time, it roared in laughter and you couldn’t help but compare it to the sound of Mingi’s own laughter you had heard in the morning. Somehow, this one sounded more human than Mingi’s own laugh. “Feisty. You’re not like this when you’re talking to Mingi. You sounded like you hated him.”

“It’s not him I hate, he saved me. He was the one who saved me, right?” You asked and it nodded. “It’s you who confused me. I didn’t know you were… two separate people. How does that even work? Where is Mingi now?”

“So many questions,” it tsk-ed. “Mingi saved you. It was me last night. Mingi during the day, and me right now. Since we have to live in one body, we might as well get along and divide our hours, was the White Flame’s genius plan.”

“And is… is Mingi here right now?” You looked at him.

“Over the years, we’ve started sharing our consciousness. We might not always be able to control it, but we can see, hear and feel what the other does.”

Oh. So Mingi was there last night too. And he was probably here, watching you interact with the demon who had possessed his body.

“Why did you possess him?”

The demon’s smile fell right as it heard the question and it almost glared at you. You understood why but you refused to cower under its scrutinising gaze. “That is not something you ask a demon, little bird.”

If you had any more questions, they were lost with the shadows now. Its gaze was hard and unwelcoming and you thought you might have made a mistake. You didn’t leave, though. Somehow, these shadows were still comforting enough.

—-----------------------

You may have given Erebos some company last night, but Mingi was hell-bent on pretending you did not exist. You supposed it was awkward for him too- to watch from afar, someone inside him taking control of his thoughts and actions. You were not sure what to make of it- did he not want you talking to Erebos at all? Even Seonghwa, who had warned you to stay in your room at nights, didn’t say much when he spotted you and the demon sharing silence.

Somehow, that seemed to weigh on your mind more than the fact that you were not in your town anymore. You had travelled all through the night and stopped at the vast expanse of field that bordered the river in the neighbouring town. Most of the day was spent sleeping and you finally woke up around sunset when you heard the faint tinkling of utensils in the kitchen. After washing up, you peeked through your door and spotted Seonghwa who seemed to sense you, turning around with a smile.

“Breakfast- or I suppose, dinner is ready,” he tasted one of the dishes and nodded to himself in satisfaction. You joined him near the counter and fiddled with the ends of your plain emerald dress that had ‘magically’ appeared in your wardrobe after Mingi went to town yesterday.

“The others?” You asked.

“Wooyoung’s out cold, Mingi is outside inspecting our new location,” he told you. “I hope we get to stay here longer this time. It’s beautiful here.”

“Really?” The sound of creaks filled the room as you walked towards the window and you audibly gasped as you took in the pink and golden hues reflecting on the crystal clear river with hills across it, the fluffiest clouds in the sky and the grass a beautiful, darker shade of green than you had seen in the forest.

You also spotted Mingi, standing at the back of the river and staring into the distance. With a nod from Seonghwa who muttered something about him waking Wooyoung up, you stepped outside and inhaled the scent of wet mud which calmed your otherwise raging nerves. You cautiously walked towards the looming figure and cleared your throat, making him glance back at you.

“Uh, dinner is ready,” you said, hating the way you sounded. You scanned his eyes and confirmed it was Mingi.

Even though he didn’t answer, you remained standing a few feet behind him, drowning in questions that you wished to ask but didn’t have the guts to- why was talking to the demon somehow easier than talking to the human? Before you could open your mouth to ask something that was already at the tip of your tongue, Seonghwa shouted for you two to get inside and you clicked your tongue in annoyance, not waiting for him this time as you returned to the house.

The silence that hung uncomfortably during dinner almost made you choke. You saw Seonghwa cautiously glance between you and Mingi multiple times, and if Wooyoung had not been so sleepy, he might have dared to comment on it. As soon as Mingi finished eating, he dropped his plates in the sink and said something about going into his room. When he disappeared, it felt like you could finally breathe.

“Is Mingi avoiding me?” You asked, worried you were disturbing the peace in this house- you had heard him laugh with the other two when you were not present and it hurt you that he was shutting you out more as time passed. “Is it because of something I did?”

“It’s just because he doesn’t like anyone interacting with Erebos,” Wooyoung answered. “It took us a lot of time to find the balance between our interactions with Erebos and Mingi too.”

“Well,” you pouted. “He should have warned me himself then, shouldn’t he?”

The two shrugged, perhaps used to these mood swings. You pouted further. “He shouldn’t have saved me in the forest and asked me to accompany him then.”

“You should say that to Mingi,” Wooyoung was stifling a smirk. “See how he answers that.”

“Wooyoung,” Seonghwa warned, turning to you. “Mingi helps anyone who needs it. We help anyone who needs it, because we all know what it is like to feel trapped and helpless. Mingi knows that better than any of us, so do not question him on that. Just… give him some time. He’ll warm up to you.”

You sighed deeply, understanding. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Seonghwa smiled. “You’ll be fine.”

You did not go to find Erebos that night, waiting instead for Mingi the next morning at the same spot he had been in yesterday, at the bank of the river. And surprisingly, it was him who joined you with a book this time.

“Are you feeling well?” He inquired and you tried not to let the surprise show on your face.

“I am, thank you for asking,” you tucked the hair that blew with the breeze back in the clip. “Are you okay?”

“Why would I not be okay?” He glanced at you.

“Are we okay?” You rephrased it and he sighed.

“I’m sorry if I was being an ass. You’ve… met Erebos, right?” You nodded and he continued. “Over time, I’ve learned to cohabitate with the demon in my body. It wasn’t always so manageable but it’s unusual for a human body to contain a demon within it for such a long period of time.”

Human body. Mingi was once human.

“Do you wish to be free?”

Mingi smiled at that. “I was anything but free when I was human. Ironically, the demon possessing me gave me more freedom than I ever had. I guess that is why we can tolerate each other now.”

“Why did you say you want me to stay away from you then?” You asked, curiosity taking the better of you.

Mingi’s smile seemed to be painful. “Why would you not stay away from a demon, y/n?”

“But you’re human… aren’t you? Or a mage now,” you wondered out loud. “Should I stay away from you too?”

Mingi didn’t answer that. He opened his book and scrolled through a few pages, buying time to think. You kept watching him- it felt like he was finally opening up to you, still so cautious and hesitant. “I don’t know.”

Despite the impending sense of danger, you found your frown relaxing and lips curving into a smile and when Mingi saw you, he smiled back.

Perhaps, this was the first step the two of you took together.

“I’d say we should stay away from you,” Mingi found himself saying with a teasing tone. “You humans are always so reckless. And that smile is unnerving.”

Your smile widened. “You don’t get human company often, do you?”

Mingi’s smile fell again and you decided it wasn’t a topic they wanted to talk about- neither of them. You cleared your throat. “Thank you for saving me that day. I don’t think I got the chance to thank you.”

“It’s nothing,” he shook his head, looking back at his book. “I felt your senses numbed because of the potions. I couldn’t simply leave you be.”

“Thank you for today too,” you almost whispered.

“Today?”

“For finally talking to me- I thought you were cross with me,” you explained.

“I still am, a little, just not with you,” he admitted, sighing deeply. “I don’t like the way Erebos talks to you, if I’m honest. It’s new.”

You pursed your lips- that explained his behaviour and the way he avoided you. He continued, “I won’t stop you from interacting with Erebos. Just be careful, okay?”

You nodded and sank your feet in the bare grass as Mingi went back to reading his book, the silence between you two comfortable for the first time.

—--------------------

You were settling into a routine in the house and it seemed like they had accepted you as a housemate.

It would have been much more difficult if it weren’t for the White Flame’s warm nature. You wondered how time hadn’t hardened him- he was more considerate than any human or mage you had ever met. You found his nature almost doting as he instructed you on the tasks you had to practically beg to share. As he taught you how to fix broken pipes or dangling planks, you shared stories of your life. He learned that you had been a servant in your own house before your stepmother resorted to imprisoning you in the tower because you tried to run away a few too many times.

You learned that he wasn’t an angel at all- he was also a demon, though a different kind than Erebos. He resembled angels too much- both in his appearance and mannerisms and was outcasted by the demons. The angels didn’t accept him either. That’s how he earned one of his names ‘The Fallen Angel’, though he complained about the inaccuracy. You asked him if he was still calming you with his magic when you were around him, and he revealed that he had stopped doing that when you decided to stay.

When Seonghwa was busy, you were with Wooyoung who didn’t have a fixed room for his experiments- he would drag his bag of potions anywhere he pleased and make home there, much to Seonghwa’s annoyance, though his smile would betray him. He filled any room with his presence, with his annoying but lovable loud laughter, with his stories and jokes. You finally told him that he had once come to your home and treated your father when he was suffering from the plague a few years ago, the one that took his life. He remembered that and was very surprised to learn that you were that man’s daughter.

“He told me I could trust you if the time ever came,” you had explained. “He told me to find you if things ever went south. I think he knew what was coming but couldn’t do anything about it.”

“He was a wise man,” Wooyoung had admitted. “And he couldn’t stop talking about you while I tried to heal him. You were so young, y/n. What did they do to you? You used to live like a princess.”

And that was the first time in years you shed tears for the life that was taken from you. When you cried, Seonghwa passed you a cup of tea and Wooyoung continued burning incense, muttering something about how some humans were worse than monsters. They let you cry in silence for as long as you wanted.

That night, it was Erebos who found you sitting on the roof, legs dangling. It tsk-ed as it nudged your thigh with its bare foot.

“I’m trying to attempt shadow-travel but I can’t focus because I can practically smell your tears and grief.”

“Shadow-travel?” You asked, and he scoffed at the curiosity behind your glazed eyes.

“I have some business to take care of in town, and it’s quicker to travel that way.”

“What business would you have?”

“I, too, have a life,” it slumped down next to you. “Would you like to join, little bird?”

“Can I?” You asked, wondering if Mingi would be okay with it in the morning.

“Yes, Mingi would be okay with it,” it rolled its eyes. “Can practically hear your thoughts.”

You stifled a grin, wiping your eyes. “Shall I get my cloak then?”

Erebos showed you around town- you decided to walk instead of shadow-travel- travelling that way with a human was risky business, it explained. You felt nostalgic as you walked in the lantern-lit streets, the smell of food and smoke filling you with an unexplainable glee in your heart. Erebos made you sit on one of the benches with a sandwich to keep you busy while it disappeared in the shadows. You didn’t complain- you were more than pleased to simply sit and observe the bustle. You hadn’t had such luxury in a while.

You almost didn’t notice the commotion behind you until you heard the faint sound of screams and you whipped your head towards the source, wondering where Erebos had disappeared. You decided to stick to its strict order not to move from this bench until it found you. Moments later, the demon was back, the people making way for it and you gaped at it.

“At least wipe the smug look off your face,” you muttered, making it grin. “What were you doing?”

“I don’t like unfinished business- especially when it’s people trying to start things that shouldn’t be messed with in the first place.”

You gulped at the threatening tone and it shook its head. “I can taste your fear, little bird.”

“I’m human, demon,” you taunted, making it laugh. “And I do not want to know what happened there. Just tell me if you hurt innocent people.”

“I may be a demon but I have morals too,” it tsk-ed in disappointment and you shrugged, falling in step with it as you went further away from town. “I never attack a human first.”

You asked why it needed morals when it was a demon and could do as it pleased. It told you that demons weren’t like how humans sketched them out to be in their poems and tales- they were much more than that. Despite being dark in nature, they weren’t consumed by evil just like humans weren’t all good, and angels not all that pure. Even as you reached the house, you spent the night learning about how demons were creatures with strict principles that they followed. You learnt that demons could feel emotions too, though time hardened them and morphed them, often into something unrecognisable. Erebos appreciated Seonghwa and told you how it was saved by him when it found itself in Mingi’s body, and how ever since they met Wooyoung, he was trying his best to make it easier for the two to cohabitate in one body.

And every time you interacted with the demon, just before you parted ways for the night, you would ask its name and it would look at you with unreadable eyes. You never got an answer.

Though your appreciation for Seonghwa and Wooyoung grew, you couldn’t help but appreciate Erebos too, you told it, for simply cooperating when it could have given up and taken control of Mingi long ago. It smiled and told you it wasn’t always so compliant and only settled down when it learned that it needed to find a way to leave this vessel without dying.

Mingi, you felt, was making a conscious effort to check up on you everyday- especially if you interacted with Erebos the night before. He never asked why or what you talked about, and you thought it was for the better. Since everyone else treated them as separate persons, you might as well too.

But it was so hard to look at Mingi and not see his lips curled in a smirk- something that you had started to look forward to, an expression that once put distaste in your mouth but now made your heart skip a beat. It was hard to see his eyes and not find the twinkle of stars in his dark irises. It was hard to hear his voice and not find it almost echoing within your skull.

And tonight, as your feet padded down the stairs, wanting to get fresh air having just woken up from a nightmare that you were back in the tower, you found Mingi relaxing in the sofa seat next to the fireplace-

Not Mingi. Erebos.

“Way past your bedtime, little bird,” it said without looking at you.

“Very unlike you to just sit and stare at the fire… demon,” you countered, watching its body shake with laughter as you went to the kitchen to drink water. You joined it, sitting on the other seat with the glass half full. “No hunting humans tonight?”

“There’s you,” it commented. “I don’t even need to go to town.”

This time, your heart didn’t sink to your feet in fear but skipped a beat, drawing a frown on its face. You sipped the water, suddenly very interested in the burning fire as you recovered.

“Someone couldn’t sleep well.”

“Right,” you sighed. “Do you need sleep?”

“Not at all.”

“You’re abusing Mingi’s body with lack of sleep.”

“He can sleep as long as he pleases when it’s his shift,” Erebos waved a hand in dismissal. “I have better things to do.”

“Definitely,” you muttered and Erebos raised a brow before leaning forward so it could meet your eyes.

“I don’t like that mocking tone, little bird.”

Though it was meant to threaten you, you rolled your eyes simply because Erebos was looking like it was enjoying this way too much. “Mean it when you say it then.”

Erebos clenched its jaws before relaxing back. “You’re not like this when you talk to Mingi or the others.”

You mirrored its posture. “You’re different.”

Perhaps, that’s not how you should have worded it. You saw Erebos’s eyes flash before you could correct yourself, its fists clenching and unclenching as if it was trying to control a response. You cleared your throat. “I mean… they don’t go around calling me ‘little bird’ and try to scare me or something. Wooyoung said it might be because you feed on fear.”

“Wooyoung was right, and I’ve been starving recently,” it licked its lips. “You’ve stopped fearing me, little bird. Not like you used to. I don’t know what to make of it.”

“That’s such a shallow way of thinking!” You couldn’t help the outburst. “When’s the last time you had a friend other than Seonghwa and Wooyoung?”

“They’re not my friends.” This time, Erebos’s voice did shake you. “They’ve been trying to get rid of me ever since they met me.”

“They’re trying to help you both,” you corrected and Erebos scoffed. “Do you like pushing people away? Do you like being alone, Erebos?”

“I’m not human enough to crave company or ‘like’ anything,” Erebos replied. “But I suppose I prefer when a certain human is not eating my ears off.”

You deadpan stared at the demon and it laughed in response. You shook your head, getting up. “Well, you can have the rest of the night with the one you love the most- your own self.”

Before you could take your third step, your wrist was grabbed and you were pulled towards a body- Mingi’s body, towards Erebos. It intertwined its hand with yours, noticing the glass still in the other hand. With a smirk, it twirled you around, earning a surprised yelp from you, leading you to the mantle of the fireplace. You placed the glass there just in time before you were pulled back.

“What are you doing?” You asked between laughs as you tried regaining your balance, your free hand instinctively going to hold Erebos’s. It scoffed in amusement, towering over you as it looked down at you.

Erebos didn’t bother responding, simply shifting its hands in yours, watching your small hands intertwine in its large ones and you felt butterflies as you detected wonder in its eyes. The demon was then swaying you in small motions as it scanned every inch of you, practically drinking in the sight and you felt so exposed that you wished you could go back to the darkness you were so used to in the tower back home.

“What are you doing?” You repeated, this time a whisper. Erebos met your eyes and you thought you saw its defences fall for a fraction of a second before it passed. The demon pulled you closer, just a step but enough that your bodies almost brushed.

“Why are you doing this to me, little bird?” It tilted its head.

“What did I do?” You dared to ask, feeling overwhelmed by the closeness of your bodies, by the fact that this was a demon in front of you, by the shadows that had now started to seep out of it.

Erebos scanned you one last time. “You should go back to sleep.”

None of you made a move to let go of the other’s hands, none of you looked away from the other. Not until you saw Erebos clench its eyes shut in pain. You squeezed its hands once, softly, before drawing back. The demon opened its eyes, almost out of breath. You stepped away, turning to go but stopping midway.

You turned to look at it one last time. “What is your name… demon?”

For the first time since you were here, Erebos passed an actual smile, waving its hand in dismissal. You smiled back before going back to your room-

Unable to sleep for the remainder of the night.

—--------------------

This time, Mingi was avoiding you on purpose. It was unsettling- you tried to strike up a conversation with him but his answers were dry and his smile didn’t meet his eyes. You ignored it until a few days passed, neither Mingi nor Erebos in your sight and when you were making your way to Mingi’s room to confront him, you noticed him in the hallway instead, bending down in the left corner and placing what looked like a scroll under the gap, sealing the plank back. You reckoned it must be something important he had to hide so you waited a few minutes until he got up.

You came into his sight and said, “You’ve been busy these days.”

“I have been,” he confirmed. For a second, you wondered if it really was just him being busy, having some ‘business’ to deal with in town, which he had explained a few days ago was attending the Conference of Mages which dealt with peace and accountability of rogue mages. But when his eyes didn’t meet yours, your suspicions were confirmed. He tried passing you but you spread your arms.

“I’m not letting you pass until you tell me why you are avoiding me- and don’t give me the same excuse.”

Mingi sighed in defeat- one thing he had learned about you was that you could be very, very stubborn. “I just needed to clear my head. We both did.”

We both.

You finally dropped your arms and followed him to the kitchen- he told you he just came home and wanted to grab something to eat. You stood awkwardly by the dainty glass decorations that Wooyoung had glued to the surface of one of the shelves so they wouldn’t fall when the house moved. You cleared your throat. “Did I do something wrong?”

Mingi didn’t like the way your voice shook when you asked that. He passed you a tight smile as he came to stand near the bookshelf, watching you. “You didn’t. It’s me this time.”

You stopped wiping, locking eyes with him. “What did you do?”

“I broke a rule- when Erebos and you were having… a moment… a few nights ago, I tried to take over. Erebos didn’t like it.”

You instantly knew what Mingi was talking about- when Erebos had clenched its eyes shut in pain. Your mouth parted and shut multiple times, trying to think of how to word your next question-

“I know,” Mingi answered anyway. “I shouldn’t have done it, but… I didn’t like it. I didn’t like the way Erebos was looking at you.”

What way was Erebos looking at you, and why did Mingi not like it?

“I didn’t mean for it to happen,” you almost whispered, drawing a step away, feeling overwhelmed by the proximity and his curious eyes on you. “I… I don’t like when you avoid me, Mingi. If my presence here is making it hard for you, I can leave-”

“Not at all,” he stepped forward as if to reach for you but stopped himself. “That’s not it.”

“I just miss you,” you exhaled in relief. “I wish you could tell me these things. I wish you would let me in, Mingi.”

Mingi looked like he was in pain and for a moment, you wondered if you had said something wrong. He finally smiled, taking another step forward and this time, you let him. You let him put his hands hesitantly on your shoulders.

“You’re right- I should have just talked to you. Avoiding you won’t make anything right. I’m sorry.”

“I wish you would stop saying sorry too,” you smiled and he finally laughed.

“I just am. I’ll try not to do that again, but I can’t promise. It’s hard when you’re not in control of your own actions, and if Erebos tries something with you, I don’t want you to look at me differently.”

So that’s what it was. You put your hands over his. “You’re not Erebos. Erebos is not you. I know that very well. Even though you share a body, you don’t look the same, don’t feel the same,” you said and Mingi gave your shoulders a squeeze. “We’re just y/n and Mingi right now, so talk to me, okay?”

Mingi nodded and asked if you wanted to join him for dinner- he didn’t have much time until Erebos would take over. You nodded and started setting the table, Mingi helping and he told you about the conference that took place today and how Erebos was also a part of it, helping eliminate threats to both humans and mages. You told him you learned to make bread pudding with Seonghwa and waited for him to try it, grinning when he told you it was better than Seonghwa’s.

It was so easy to talk to Mingi like this- an exchange of how your day went, sharing bits and pieces of your past sometimes, joking with each other- Mingi wasn’t very shy when talking which helped a lot. He enjoyed chatting with everyone but sometimes, you wondered if he was reminded of something from his past when he would zone out or his smile would fade. Just like now.

“Are you with me?” You asked cautiously, wondering if you were going to see the shift.

“I’m here,” Mingi blinked, shaking his head. “Just got lost for a second.”

“Is my company that boring to you?” You pouted.

“It’s not that,” he shook his head. “It’s just been a while since I’ve had such mundane interactions.”

“Does it remind you of the time when you were human?” You dared to ask. He didn’t mind, thankfully.

“Not really, but… we’ve had a few human guests over the time. Some stayed until their end. Some left because they saw what living here would mean for them. Now that we have you in our house, we enjoy the company. We’re a bit bored of each other, the rest of us, so we really don’t mind you. It’s just sad to think how it will come to an end one day.”

“You’re worrying about the future when you haven’t even tried living in the present… aren’t you?”

“It’s you humans who think living in the present is the right way. You understand later that every decision you make in the present influences the future. And when something bad happens, you start tracing it back to the moment it started going wrong. It’s too late then.”

“Then there’s no way of knowing if the decisions I make will be good for me. Does it really matter if they are good for me?” You paused, thinking about Erebos all of a sudden. Thinking about the way your skin ignited with pleasure for the first time and how you longed to feel that way again. “Sometimes you just can’t help yourself, can you?”

“You don’t mean that,” Mingi almost whispered, his raspy voice making you shiver involuntarily. You wondered if he had read your mind.

“Do you feel what Erebos does too?” You asked, leaning forward as well. “Where do your feelings differentiate?”

“Erebos is a demon, it doesn’t feel-”

“You’re wrong,” you shook your head. “You can’t tell me that when you haven’t seen the way its eyes changed that night.”

“Y/n-” Mingi warned, the left side of his face twitching. “I know I said I don’t mind you talking to Erebos, but it is a demon. It will take advantage of you at some point- that is its nature.”

“I can take care of myself,” you drew back and watched Mingi sigh in frustration. “You should understand that Erebos hasn’t done anything that I didn’t like.”

You let that confession hang in the air and Mingi tried processing it but he was so confused. Just why were you so fearless, so stubborn, especially about this? It’s almost like-

Like you had no reason to be afraid of.

Mingi got up abruptly, almost giving you a jumpscare. He looked at you, feeling out of breath. “You’re on your own then. But please be careful.”

You made a mental note to ask Erebos just what he had done to their human guests in the past as you watched Mingi disappear into his room. You didn’t want to see Erebos tonight, though. If the demon could give you this cold treatment, you could return that too. Even if for one night.

—------------------

“There’s something wrong with her.”

“Are you sure she’s not simply sulking?” Wooyoung glanced at Seonghwa who shook his head in denial.

“She’s never been this quiet since she came. She’s like you- always babbling-”

“I can hear you,” you called out, not bothering to look at the duo, instead continuing to stare into the fire with an unfinished black crochet scarf in your hands.

“Why are you so quiet today? Is it because I scolded you when you forgot to turn the oven off?” Seonghwa asked.

You finally looked at the Fallen Angel who thought you were worried because you left the burner on. He scoffed at your amused expressions. “That’s not it.”

“Let her be, everyone needs some peace and quiet sometimes,” Wooyoung waved a hand in dismissal, going back to messing with his potions. “I need some peace and quiet today too.”

“Right,” Seonghwa muttered. “If you make it past half an hour without speaking a word, I’ll let you use me as your lab rat for your next experiment.”

You gasped at his offer because you had seen Wooyoung dissect dead animals and it was not a pretty sight. Wooyoung’s eyes, however, glinted as he accepted the challenge. You sighed, going back to staring at the fire.

You kept thinking about every interaction you had had with Mingi and Erebos so far. Even though you knew they were two separate entities, you were worried you weren’t making the distinction clear- when you were angry with Erebos, Mingi got to deal with the aftermath and vice versa.

Mingi was still the same old person he was from the first day he met you. You would join him with a book by the river when he wasn’t out or you would exchange stories at the table. He stopped asking you about Erebos- you figured you had struck the right chord that day. Instead, he now answered your silly but curious questions about magic, about their travels and adventures. He would ask if you had a good sleep or if you learned anything new from the boys who were teaching you anything you were willing to learn. It was comfortable to talk to Mingi now and you had started looking forward to your interactions with him.

Erebos, however, was not the same person you had encountered on your first night here, the one who was so unwilling to look at you and wanted you to run away. If you could look at it from an objective lens, you were pretty sure Erebos was warming up to you. You had a habit of sleeping very late at night so you spent most nights hanging out with the demon- sometimes inside as you both fought your own battles in silence, occasionally exchanging words. Or sometimes, you would lie down with him on the grass and stare at the sky until you fell asleep and later wake up in your bed.

And when you had a moment with one of them, one that made you feel unexplainable things, one that made you shiver or made your heart flutter, you found yourself expecting it to be the same with the other. It wasn’t fair, but you couldn’t help it.

You kept mindlessly crocheting or resorting to staring into the fire even when Wooyoung finally gave up staying silent and Seonghwa and him started to argue like children. Mingi came and joined the ruckus and you only passed a small smile, busying yourself. The day passed just like that and at some point, you must have fallen asleep on the sofa because when you woke up, Erebos was seated right in front of you, watching you with curious eyes.

You blinked away the sleep, suddenly feeling conscious of the way the neckline of your dress exposed your left shoulder more than intended. You straightened your dress and watched Erebos relax back.

“How long have you been sitting and staring?”

“Not long,” it replied. You were pretty sure that was a lie.

“Not going to the conference tonight?” You inquired.

“I got a message- it has been delayed,” Erebos licked its lips slowly. “Why were you sleeping here?”

“I was…” waiting to see you- “crocheting…”

“I don’t see any evidence of that.”

You looked down in your lap and laughed a little- it must have been Wooyoung or Seonghwa who placed the material away and put a blanket on you. You pursed your lips. “You’re talkative tonight.”

“I bet you like that,” Erebos cocked its head.

“See?” You managed to say despite the fluttering of your stomach. “Very talkative. Go scare a human in town or something…”

Erebos let out a deep laugh and you joined, shaking your head. You stretched, spotting the new moon outside. “The sky is lovely tonight.”

“Do you want to climb the hill you’ve been watching every day since you came here? Might give you a better view.”

An offer. You smiled and nodded, getting up and drinking a glass of water before joining the demon outside. The hill was across the river and you wondered if you were going to make a round trip, but-

“We’re going through the river. I’ll make a boat for you.”

“There’s no way I’m going through the river,” you halted, Erebos laughing yet again. “I’ll drown!”

“Just like this house moves on tyres made of shadow, I can materialise a boat for us to travel in. It will be safe-”

“No-”

“And I will be right next to you,” the demon completed and you pressed your lips in a tight line. “You won’t drown.”

You didn’t answer, looking at the awfully still surface of the river. Erebos stood next to you and you felt your fingers brush its own.

“I won’t let you drown. Do you trust me, little bird?”

Did you trust the demon with your life? You could practically hear the sound of your own heart as you nudged its fingers with yours. A leap of faith. You watched Erebos’s lips curl into a smile and it spread his hands forward, shadow seeping out of the body until a black boat stood in the river. Erebos stepped inside first and even though you had seen the shadow tyres support the weight of this house, you still gasped in surprise.

The demon extended its hand for you. You didn’t hesitate to take it this time and it helped you settle in the boat but you refused to let its hand go and it made it chuckle. With its other hand, it steered the boat swiftly towards the other end and you laughed in both surprise and fear, water droplets spraying your face when you peeked out of the boat though you didn’t mind one bit- it was so thrilling. More thrilling than anything you had ever experienced in your lifetime.

And when you looked at Erebos with the biggest smile on your face, the demon felt its heart ache and it wondered if it was because of Mingi even though it had pushed Mingi far, far away into its subconscious. You felt its hands grip yours tighter as if squeezing it and you didn’t look away from its face until you reached.

The climb up the hill was just as silent, none of you letting go of the other’s hand. You let it be- it certainly helped you move faster as Erebos instructed you where to step and where not to. When you reached the peak and you were out of breath, Erebos helped you settle on a rock, finally leaving your hand only to shake its head and dig out a handkerchief from its pocket.

“Look at you, all spent just because you climbed a few rocks,” it tsk-ed and you pouted. Shaking its head again, it started wiping the sweat off your forehead, grinning to itself at the state of your hair blown back. Putting its handkerchief away, the demon pushed your hair away from your face, caressing your head with a faint smile-

And finally noticing the look on your face. The wide, curious eyes, the hesitant look in them, the parted lips. The uneven breaths.

You watched its eyes flash with something indecipherable yet again as it scanned your face, noticing its thumb almost at the corner of your lips. You watched its brows furrow as a flurry of emotions crossed its face- emotions you had never seen on anyone’s face before. You couldn’t hear the sound of cicadas or the wind anymore, only the rustling of your hair as its hand moved away from your face only to slide its thumb across your lower lip.

Even if Erebos didn’t watch your eyes to confirm, it could feel your heart beating as if it was an extension of its own pulse, taste the excitement mixed with a little bit of fear in the air. And locking eyes with you only made the demon more confused- you looked so vulnerable in that moment that its primal instincts shouted at it to shatter you, but it pushed them away. It pushed everything away and drew its hand back, about to move away but-

But you grabbed its hand in yours. You did not know what took over you in that moment, but you placed its thumb back where it was- between your parted lips.

And then you kissed it softly.

You heard the demon stifle a cry- of pain? Of surprise? You did not care. You locked eyes with the figure towering over you, ready to meet your fate.

And when the demon cupped your face with a hesitancy that almost broke you, you licked your lips, so eager to meet its own. When it inched closer, you let your hands grip its wrists, and when your nose brushed with its own sharp nose, you let out a small exhale. You were both at a loss of words at that moment, so you only arched your neck up to let it know you needed this, perhaps as much as the demon itself.

A demon starved of love, starved of affection. That’s what Erebos was. And when it pushed every thought away and brushed its lips across yours, it finally understood that it never craved fear-

It craved this.

Parting its own lips, it kissed you, for the first time in its life- it did not count the times Mingi had kissed his past lovers because Erebos thought it was disgusting and hid itself so far away in Mingi’s subconscious that it didn’t even remember what happened later. This was the first time the demon itself was in charge, and it had no idea what to do but found itself locking and unlocking its lips with yours, its hand automatically going to grip your neck. It swallowed your moan of pleasure, kissing you deeper and deeper until you almost slipped from the rock and your hands went around its neck for support, breaking apart from the kiss-

And looking at the demon, its eyes wide and perhaps as vulnerable as yours.

Erebos picked you up effortlessly, making you yelp in surprise and wrap your legs around its waist- perhaps, a wrong move because there was an unquestionable fire in its eyes. It led you to another rock and placed you on it so that your heights matched, out of breath- you wondered how a demon was out of breath now. You didn’t unwrap your legs, not quite, and you didn’t need to because it gripped your hip with one hand and brought you closer, craning your neck with the other and going back to kissing you, deeper and more desperate this time. You kissed back with equal urgency, welcoming its tongue in yours, feeling its hand creep up inside your dress and you finally drew back-

“Erebos-”

It swallowed your name back in another kiss and for a moment, you saw stars. This couldn’t be how it felt kissing a human, you wondered. Was it because Erebos was a demon? It couldn’t be like this, setting you on fire wherever its hands traced your skin and nails dug in, making you buzz with excitement and want-

“Erebos, please,” you broke away, pushing the blue and black strand of its hair back. “Look at me.”

Erebos locked its eyes with you and you felt your heart sink when you saw nothing but darkness in its eyes. It inched closer, kissing your jaw and sucking and nibbling on your neck almost harshly, and you stifled your moans-

“Not like this, Erebos,” you pleaded, cupping its face again and making it lock eyes with you. “Where are the stars in your eyes, demon?”

That seemed to click something in its minds as the pupils lightened and the twinkle of its eyes returned. It took deep, uneven breaths, caressing your face with both hands.

“I- I don’t know what happened.”

“It’s okay,” you assured the demon, though you had no idea either. “It’s okay-”

“Did I hurt you?” Erebos voice sounded so fragile that you felt the sting of tears in your eyes- this was the demon they warned you to stay away from? You watched its eyes darken when it inspected a bruise forming on your neck. “...I hurt you.”

“No, no you didn’t, look at me,” you scolded, pecking its lips again. “You didn’t hurt me. You just… I don’t know. Where did you go?”

Erebos looked so confused. You buried your face in its neck as you brought its body closer to you. “Thank you for bringing me here tonight.”

The demon caressed your head as it clenched its eyes shut again, in pain- Mingi was doing it again, trying to take over. Erebos supposed he had every right to now. However, it would not let Mingi take this moment from it, not again. So with all its willpower, Erebos pushed Mingi away and kissed the top of your head.

“Little bird,” it whispered. “What have you gotten yourself into?”

—---------------------

What had you gotten yourself into?

It was your turn to avoid Mingi this time, simply because you couldn’t face him. Not when you did what you did last night and Mingi shared the same body as Erebos.

What were you thinking?

You were mortified, yes, but you also did not regret one bit of it, if you were honest with yourself. Mingi could be angry with you all he wanted.

You might have regretted it- Erebos was a demon. You still didn’t understand why its eyes went so dark as if the demon lost itself for a moment, but when you called its name and it came back, when it asked if you were hurt as if it pained the demon itself…

You simply couldn’t imagine why Erebos looked at you with such worried eyes. Why would a demon care if it hurt you or not, unless it actually cared?

And if it actually cared… What did it mean for you?

“Little bird, what have you gotten yourself into?”

You refused to leave your room even after you woke up, even when your stomach grumbled with hunger. Even Seonghwa got worried and checked in on you with a tray of food, understanding something must have happened between you and Mingi- or Erebos. Thankfully, he didn’t insist you join them. He let you have your space and you were grateful for that.

That night, Erebos didn’t come to look for you either. You remained cooped up in your room, obsessively cleaning it to make up for the guilt of slacking on your other duties and sometimes peeking out of the window- neither Mingi nor Erebos seemed to have gone out today.

The next day, Seonghwa had had enough of your moping and came into your room, clicking a wooden spoon on a metal dish as morning bells to wake you up. You groaned and hid your face in the pillow but Seonghwa made the pillow burst into feathers with his magic, making you almost cry.

“I only tolerate moping for one day, y/n,” he told you as if it was a rule you had to abide by to live in this house. “Get up. Fix any broken planks- the wind last night was strong- and then join me on the roof for cleaning.”

“Why won’t you use your magic to clean?” You sighed and he ignored that, going in the next room to wake Wooyoung up- you could hear him yelling in response. Smiling at that, you finally got up and stumbled towards the bathroom, nearly forgetting Mingi lived in this very house until you bumped into a body in the hallway and muttered apologies-

Only to look up and see Mingi.

“Uh, I was just,” you pointed to the bathroom and he scanned your face, making you gulp. He muttered a sorry before letting you walk past him and when you entered the bathroom, you shut the door and nearly sank down the door.

How were you going to face him?

You were very distracted as you fixed the planks dangling by the window in the hallway, almost nailing your finger a couple of times. When you were done, you were about to head to the roof when you almost tripped on your feet-

You looked down and spotted a plank a little lifted in the air that had caused you to almost fall face-first. You were about to nail it when you recalled that this was the spot Mingi had hid something that day- you should probably not nail it.

Curiosity took the better of you and you moved the plank- there was indeed a scroll inside. Looking around, you hesitated a bit before you took out the scroll and unrolled it, a few verses of what looked like a poem on it-

“Once the shadow, once the light

As one, the two must thrive

A curse both must fight

To one’s end, they dive

For love, with all their might

Hearts awakened, live alive”

You figured it might be Mingi’s sad attempt at poetry and put the scroll back where it was, fixing the plank better- if he had to hide it, he could at least hide it properly.

Thankfully, he was not on roof cleaning duty with you and when you went to join Seonghwa there after a light breakfast, he passed you a sceptical look before handing you the mop.

“What’s up with you these days?”

You wondered how to answer that. Seonghwa tsk-ed at you. “Why are you avoiding Mingi?”

“Erebos,” you gave in and Seonghwa raised a brow. “Because of Erebos. Because…” you groaned in frustration. “I don’t know. I might have done something stupid. I don’t know how to face Mingi.”

“Just talk to him,” he told you, attacking a corner on the floor with a mop and you suppressed a giggle at his dedication. “Avoiding each other won’t do either of you any good. It might calm Erebos down too.”

“Why? What happened to Erebos?”

“I think it’s angry with Mingi for trying to take control of him again,” Seonghwa revealed and you wondered if that happened while you were on the hill two nights ago. “The last time this happened, the conflict grew until Erebos took full control of Mingi and didn’t let him back in for a while. So my advice is, just talk and smother their conflict if you’re involved.”

You bit your lips- you were messing things up. You didn’t mean for it to happen this way, and you needed to confront Mingi now.

So after you were done for the day, when there were a few hours left until sunset, you knocked on Mingi’s door. When he opened the door and looked surprised, you half expected him to slam the door in your face but he simply passed a smile.

“What brings you here?”

He noticed the flush on your cheeks. He didn’t need your answer, he knew why you were here. So before you could say something, he opened the door wider and let you in.

You had been in his room maybe twice before, but you still enjoyed looking around at the desk next to the window with a lamp and notes sprawled across its surface, the blue and grey curtains and pillows- had he matched on purpose? The paintings of shadows on his wall that must have been Erebos’s doing. You sat at the edge of the bed and he took the seat near you.

“Are you okay?” You asked.

“I am,” his voice was low. “Are you?”

“I think, yes,” you wanted to meet his eyes but couldn’t look at him. “I wanted to talk to you about… two nights ago.” Mingi shifted uncomfortably at the mention and you licked your suddenly dry lips as you finally locked eyes with him. “Are you angry with me?”

��Why would I be angry with you?” Mingi’s voice was almost a whisper and it only confused you further.

“I… I don’t know what you’re thinking, Mingi,” you sighed. “I expected you to come bursting through my room and yell at me, warn me to be careful or something, but you… both of you- why are you giving me space now?”

Mingi took a deep breath. “I do want to ask you why you kissed Erebos. But… it’s not my place to ask, is it?”

“I mean…” your cheeks were flushing. “You do share a body, unfortunately. Maybe you do have a right to ask.”

Mingi took another deep breath. “I’ve lived a long life, y/n. I’ve had lovers in the past too. At first, navigating my relationships was awkward- especially when Erebos and I didn’t have better control of ourselves. And Erebos drove away anyone I got close to- more often unintentionally. No one likes demons- but you,” he cocked his head. “You’re different when you’re with Erebos. You’re not like that with me.”

“Do you wish I was?”

“And you ask the most unexpected questions,” he smiled in defeat. “So tell me, why did you do it?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, finally feeling a bit relaxed now that he had broken the ice. A part of you wished you and Mingi could talk about it as if Erebos was a separate, independent entity. “I like Erebos. The demon… is not all that bad. And I might have regretted it but… sometimes I feel like it has a heart too, you know? The way it talks or looks at certain things…”

“Erebos does not have a heart,” Mingi reminded you softly, leaning forward. “And I’m scared the demon might take advantage of you.”

“I understand your worries, Mingi,” you nodded. “But really, I think I know what I’m doing. I just want to know if you’re okay with that. I will take a step back but I won’t stop spending time with Erebos.”

“I’m not okay with that,” Mingi said after a moment and you frowned in confusion. “I… I don’t want you to get hurt. If Erebos does something… I fear you’ll look at me with hatred and disgust in your eyes.”

“Oh, Mingi,” you got up- he was genuinely worried about you. How stupid had you been to dismiss that? “I would never…”

“That’s the thing, y/n,” he shook his head with a sad smile. “I’ve always had to deal with the aftermath of things I didn’t do. I’m afraid it will happen again.”

“What did Erebos do?” You asked, walking cautiously towards him and he looked up at you with guarded eyes. “I’m sorry for your pain.”

“It’s okay,” he looked down. “I haven’t been all that good either. I’m no better than a demon myself-”

“You’re wrong,” you brought shaking hands to hold his face and make him look at you. “You’re one of the kindest souls I’ve met, Mingi. You saved me and I am forever in your debt-”

“There’s no debt-”

“No, listen,” your brows furrowed in focus as you locked eyes with his dark pupils, trying not to imagine the stars in his eyes you had started to love. “I like where we are, Mingi. I wish you would open up to me more and stop being cautious. I wish you would tell me exactly what bothers you so I can at least do something about it instead of treading carefully around you. I wish you would… look at me, Mingi.”

You didn’t know where the words came from, but one thing you were sure about was that you were addressing Mingi, not Erebos.

“How can I look at you when every time you look at me, you think of the demon inside me?”

You smiled at that. “These brown eyes of yours don’t belong to the demon. Nor does the kindness in them. Neither are they so guarded-” you traced his brows and Mingi inhaled sharply. “And your smile- it isn’t taunting. It isn’t demanding. It is the loveliest smile I’ve seen and produces the loveliest sounds I’ve heard- they’re yours.”

This time, you couldn’t help but trace his lips. The same lips that had kissed you, the same softness of them- your heart fluttered at the proximity and switch of positions now. Mingi, however, was in a trance and didn’t move at all, only watching you staring at his lips for the longest time until you blinked, finally coming back to reality. You smiled again, leaning in and pressing a chaste kiss to his forehead.

“When I see you, I only see you,” you said- it wasn’t a lie. “And when I see Erebos… I only see the demon. I’m trying my best not to mix the two. You don’t have to be worried about what Erebos does to me, just as Erebos is not worried about what you do with me.”

“And what makes you think Erebos is not worried?” Mingi said and you raised a brow, drawing your hands away from his face. “Do you know why I didn’t come yelling at you yesterday? Because Erebos took over me every time I thought of that.”

Despite the graveness of the topic, you couldn’t help but laugh at that and soon Mingi joined, both of you shaking your heads in amusement. “So I was right about you. I do know you.”

“No you don’t,” Mingi scoffed and for a moment, you saw Erebos behind those eyes. “Anyways, it’s really not a good idea, whatever you think you’re doing. Ask Erebos tonight what he wants with you, will you?”

So you waited for Erebos by the fireplace like you usually did. And this time, Erebos joined, hesitancy in its steps so unlike its usual behaviour. The demon slumped down on the sofa across you and stared daggers into the fireplace.

“Someone’s sulking,” you commented.

“Not in the mood tonight, little bird.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Why?”

“You know why.”

“I don’t,” you straightened, not liking its tone. “So tell me why.”

“Why did you talk to Mingi about us?”

The demon finally met eyes with you and you wiped any expressions off your face before you replied, “I didn’t realise I was not allowed to talk with Mingi about the very demon who lives inside him.”

“You know what I’m talking about,” it clenched its jaw and you realised you did. But you weren’t going to admit it.

“Why don’t you tell me what exactly you didn’t like?”

“Look at you,” it scoffed. “What answers are you trying to get out of me?”

You slumped back in defeat. “First of all, I can talk to Mingi about whatever I want. You don’t get to have a say in it. And secondly… I haven’t even asked you anything yet.”

Erebos mirrored your position. “Then why does Mingi get to have a say in what we do?”

“He doesn’t-”

“But you told him you will take a step back because he’s interfering-”

“That’s not why-” you paused as realisation dawned on you. “Are you pissed because I said I’d take a step back from what we did?”

When Erebos didn’t answer, you leaned forward. “I am taking a step back from you because when you kissed me that night, it wasn’t you. What happened to you that night, Erebos? You scared me for a moment and then you looked hurt. What am I supposed to make of it?”

Erebos didn’t meet your eyes, fiddling with the ends of its shirt.

“What do you want with me, Erebos?” You finally asked the question that had been gnawing on your mind before Mingi ever instructed you. However, Erebos remained quiet. You let the demon have a few moments until you couldn’t take it anymore and then you got up.

“Don’t come to me until your head is clear.”

“Wait-”

You stopped walking away when you heard the urgency in the demon’s voice. You turned to find Erebos standing as if it was about to come after you if you didn’t stop. The demon came near you, running a hand through its messy hair and you turned to hear it.

“I don’t know what happened to me,” Erebos finally admitted, its voice low and your heart tugged. “All I know is that I’ve never wanted anything more in that moment and I was consumed by something foreign even for me. If you hadn’t stopped me, you would have regretted it. I thought I hurt you, and I didn’t like it, even when I usually enjoy hurting humans. What do I make of it, little bird? Why don’t you tell me?”

You knew you were treading on such dangerous territories but the fact that Erebos was making all these confessions, you simply couldn’t find it in your heart to leave it be. You bit the inside of your cheek as you tried to work out a response but you found yourself speechless instead.

“I don’t like the way you’re looking at me, little bird,” the demon whispered and you shook your head.

“What will we do, Erebos?”

“Do we have to worry?” Erebos stepped towards you, making you take a step back out of habit. It smirked and you rolled your eyes, knowing it was in teasing mode now. It stepped towards you, making you step back until your back hit the wall and you were trapped. You glared at the demon.

“Now this is what I like to see,” Erebos grinned. You pushed its chest but it grabbed your wrists, making you gape at it but when it caressed them softly, your eyes changed-

“This look in your eyes,” the demon’s raspy voice practically sounded inside you. “I don’t want you to look at anyone else with that look in your eyes.”

“I didn’t-”

“Not even Mingi,” it almost snarled and instead of fear, warmth coursed through your body. “No one else, you understand?”

“I don’t look at Mingi that way-”

“Don’t make me shut you up,” it cocked its head dangerously. “Now… what were you saying about taking a step back from us? When I can practically taste your needs?”

“Erebos,” you sighed in defeat, resting your head on its chest. “Please. Let me think this through.”

“Why do you need to think this through?” Erebos practically whined. “Look at me, little bird.”

With immense effort, you raised your head. If you expected to see the same darkness that took over the demon that night, it wasn’t there. It was just… Erebos being itself. However, you were a bit startled by the sudden proximity as if it finally sank in that you were in its arms yet again. Erebos’s eyes were glazed and it pressed its lips to your temple, lingering before drawing back.

“You can think all you want,” the demon whispered in your ear, tugging at your earlobe with its teeth, making a whimper leave your mouth. “But I know you’ll come back to me, little bird.”

You instinctively craned your neck and you could feel Erebos smirk as it trailed its lips along your neck, resting at your collarbone, its warm breath caressing your skin. You longed to touch the demon but its grip on your wrists was strong. When its full lips pressed on the edge of your collarbone, your knees nearly gave in and you struggled to stand.

As if having proved a point, Erebos stepped back. “I’m not human so I can wait for you as long as you want,” it said, gaze travelling everywhere on your face. “So you can take your time.”

You narrowed your eyes, snatching your wrists away and rubbing them. “You could have simply said that.”

“Now where’s the fun in that?” Erebos smirked and you tried to calm your thumping heart. “Talking about fun… want to go mage-hunting with me? I have some rogue mages I plan to catch tonight.”

“I’m sure I’ll only slow you down,” you retorted but the demon shook its head, saying you wouldn’t.

It couldn’t have been more wrong.

“You may have the ability to see in the dark but in case you forgot, I’m a mere human,” you spat, scoffing when Erebos stifled its laugh, tripping yet again on another object in the narrow alley you were navigating through.

“Hold my hand then,” Erebos sounded so smug that you refused to comply. You knew the demon was trying to initiate physical contact through any means possible- all night, it had been a battle of finger brushes, stolen pecks to the cheek or forehead which may have made your heart skip a beat at first but was now annoying you to death-

Another kiss on your temple and a deep laughter boomed and you nearly screamed in frustration. “Erebos, I swear to the heavens above I will obliterate you-”

“Shh,” you felt a finger on your lips in the utter darkness. “Someone’s here- don’t move.”

You obeyed, eyes wide as you glanced around, barely seeing anything in the cloudy night. What were you thinking when you decided this was a good idea?

“I sense one of them,” the demon whispered in your ear, guiding you to stand next to the wall and stay there. “I’ll be back. You have your knife, yes?”

“Oh, I do, completely forgot,” you muttered, checking in your cloak. “Should have stabbed you when I had the chance.”

“I’m going to remove the shadows from around you,” Erebos said and slowly, your vision became better. With a gentle pat to your cheek, the demon went after the mage, leaving you smiling to yourself.

The smile fell when you heard a scream that did not belong to Erebos. You waited for the sounds to die, almost moving from your spot but you knew better than to disobey the demon. After a few minutes, it was back looking proud of itself and you shook your head.

“Are we done?” You asked and Erebos nodded. “Did you… kill the mage?”

“Only put shadow cuffs on him,” Erebos answered. “They nullify magic.”

Your mouth shaped into an O and you asked if you were going home now. Erebos told you it had one last spot to visit and you followed, this time hand intertwined with its own.

You never expected the spot to be a graveyard. You squeezed the demon’s hand but it didn’t respond, simply navigating through the graves until it stopped in front of an unnamed one with a cherry blossom tree sprouting from it.

You watched Erebos look up as if it was praying- who did demons pray to? Did they share the same gods as humans? It didn’t leave your hand once, though, and you felt as if you were invading a private moment.

When Erebos was done, it passed you a smile and led you further to a bench where you sat. “You must have questions.”

“I do, but you don’t have to answer them,” you told the demon who looked at you gratefully, though it decided to tell you.

“The first time Mingi fell in love after we started sharing a body, I was disgusted by those foreign emotions. It was like the human lost all control of who he was, of his heart and mind. And at that time, we did not know how to live with each other and often slipped into each other’s consciousness unknowingly. And with that… my magic was unstable as well. One wrong move on my part and I took away something from Mingi that I’m still sorry for.”

Your heart sank as you glanced towards the grave and then back at Erebos. “You blame yourself.”

Erebos nodded at your statement. “It’s the only thing I have felt sorry for in my life, because I, too, experienced the love when it was not meant for me. When I didn’t welcome it.”

It explained so much of Mingi’s hesitant and cautious behaviour, of his worries and fears. It also explained some of Erebos’s behaviour. You put a hand on top of the demon’s hand, caressing it.

“Actions like these wouldn’t have meant anything for me, but after centuries, my heart feels warm again- I don’t know if it’s Mingi’s heart or mine, and it’s making me confused. That night… I almost made the same mistake again and I was so scared. I’m not scared to face the consequences, I’m scared to live with them.”

“But you didn’t,” you whispered. “You didn’t lose control.”

“And what if I do?” Erebos looked at you, eyes dark. “Perhaps, living inside a human has changed me. All I wanted was to destroy yet here I am. I want you all to myself, so selfishly. I want to feel these funny and strange feelings more. I want you, but what if I make the same mistake, this time with someone I-”

With someone I love- the statement hung in the air- perhaps because the demon was not sure if it was love though it had never desired for anything more, perhaps because it was afraid to say it in case things went south, perhaps because it couldn’t bear to see the disgust in your eyes at its confession-

But then you rested your head on Erebos’s shoulder and all its worries dissipated. “I don’t know what it’s like to love,” you said. “I don’t know what this is either, but… I like it. And I’m not afraid of you, Erebos. I feel safe with you- I don’t know why. I never once felt unsafe with you, even when you nearly lost control.”

You felt Erebos relax considerably at your confession. You continued. “I’m sorry for what happened. It must have been hard for you too.”

There it was- your consideration. The one thing that drew Erebos to you from the first moment you met. No one had ever talked to the demon like that in its entire life- how could it not love it?

So the demon rested its face against your head, an impending feeling of doom swirling in its gut, because there was one thing both Mingi and Erebos hid from you-

That you could not love the both of them at the same time. Even if you were halfway there already and neither of them was able to stop you, you could not. It would be the end of one or the other, but…

Did it matter if they got a taste of your love?

—-----------------------

“Wait- don’t light the fire just yet- Wooyoung!”

You shut your eyes more in defeat than to brace yourself from the loud blast that sounded because Wooyoung lit the match at the wrong time during the middle of creating a potion. You could smell smoke and hear Wooyoung’s low giggles and you wondered why you ever agreed to experiment with the healer.

Your father had worked with mages for a long time, and when he was sick and had contacted Wooyoung, they had come up with recipes for new potions while Wooyoung healed him. Your father gave you his notes before his death and you still remembered the recipes, deciding to work with Wooyoung, trying the one for-

“Agility, you said?” Wooyoung asked, coughing a bit and you finally opened your eyes to see him draw a cross on his notes.

“Yes, and if you hadn’t been hell-bent on tweaking it, we wouldn’t be covered in soot,” you groaned. “I said light the fire after the lavender is soaked in the liquid, not when it’s still floating.”

“Are you sure it works?” Wooyoung passed you a cryptic look. “Maybe I do need to tweak it…”

“It’s worked,” you folded your arms defensively. “I’ve used them,” you said, recalling when you once saw your father and Wooyoung working in his lab. “You must remember from his notes, right?”

“Always sneaking around, were you?” Wooyoung cooed. “I distinctly remember your father telling you to go play in your room or something- you were always hiding in the corners.”

“I don’t sneak around now-”

“I saw you shadowing Mingi earlier,” he winked at you and you pouted. “Why do you keep following him around?”

You looked away from Wooyoung’s searching gaze but found yourself caged when he continued to stare at you, waiting for an answer. You sighed deeply.

“Because he’s either hiding something from me or he hates me and I need to know what it is.”

You did not miss Wooyoung’s subtle eye roll but only you were aware of how Mingi was trying to avoid your eyes, would look at you when you thought you didn’t know he was, and appeared to be about to say something but would then stop. It was a game of push and pull now, and you were losing.

“That’s not it,” Wooyoung shook his head. “It’s probably something else.”

“I’m just confused, Wooyoung. Is it because Erebos told me about Mingi’s first love? Is that a topic the demon should have avoided? Or is it because…”

Because you continued to tread on dangerous lines with Erebos. And because Mingi could probably see some of it himself- after all, how much could Erebos push him back into their subconscious? Was it making Mingi confused because it always used to be the other way round?

“Erebos, huh?” Wooyoung tsk-ed. “If your father saw you today…”

You glared at him. “He’d be proud of me for running away and making it alive. And proud that I’m tolerating you lot.”

“Isn’t it us tolerating the human?” Wooyoung wondered out loud and you threw the nearest object- a flask- at him, which he caught, grinning. “I can tell you he’s not avoiding you on purpose. Something must be bothering him. He couldn’t hate you even if he tried.”

You looked at the healer. “Why?”

“Why don’t you ask him that?” Wooyoung got up and began to clean the mess, tossing you a washcloth so you could help. “He’s not always like this. He looks like something is eating him up.”

Wooyoung wasn’t wrong. Over the course of the past few days, while you and Erebos only grew friendlier- the demon even more teasing and reckless than ever, you and Mingi had also settled into something calm and… cosy. Where Erebos was a literal manifestation of shadows and being with him felt dark and thrilling, Mingi radiated warmth like none other- his voice grounded you and being with him washed a sense of tranquillity over you. You did not know what you craved more, especially because Erebos had been busier recently and you spent more time with Mingi.

Mingi didn’t talk about whatever you and Erebos discussed that night in the graveyard, but his smile had become kinder as if he himself was grateful that you didn’t run away from him. You wondered how many people ran away from him simply because of the demon inside him- he, too, must have been hurt because of the looks of fear or disgust he received. You recalled a couple of days ago when you were watching him trim the plants surrounding the house and he had looked so shy that it made your heart ache unexpectedly-

“Don’t look at me like that, y/n.”

“Like what?”

“Like how you look at Erebos. As if he’s everything you’ve ever wanted.”

“But-”

“I just can’t take it”, he smiled helplessly. “It makes me want something that isn’t mine.”

Despite this, Mingi didn’t push you away. He continued to find you during the day and engage you in some activity, and even if you two didn’t talk you’d find solace being in each other’s company. However, his casual finger brushes and pats hadn’t escaped your notice. You knew he was very physically affectionate even with Seonghwa and Wooyoung and perhaps this was the same, but he didn’t look at you the way he looked at the others. You knew that well and good.

After cleaning the soot, you went outside for a breather, spotting Mingi at the bank of the river, this time with his feet dipped in the water. He seemed to be enjoying the warm rays of sun, head tipped backwards. Despite your quiet steps, he seemed to have heard the ruffle of grass and motioned for you to join him. You rolled your trousers up a little before sinking your feet into the cool water, grinning to yourself as you settled down.

“Such a nice day today, isn’t it?” You looked up at the fluffy clouds spreading across the sky. “The sun is about to set. I should have joined you earlier.”

“We still have some time,” he smiled. “I heard a little blast inside. Wooyoung again?”

“Me, but it was Wooyoung who messed us up,” you laughed. “Did you manage to find the missing mage?”

“Not yet. I’ve been searching since sunrise but there’s no sign. Erebos might be able to sense the mage better so I’ll leave it to the demon. I’m done for the day.”

“Well, at least the demon is useful for one thing,” you joked and he laughed- he quite enjoyed when you made fun of Erebos and you were glad talking about the demon wasn’t something that made you two awkward anymore.

“But you should know,” Mingi started, “We don’t work for the Mage Society willingly. It’s something we have to do so they will allow us to live.”

You frowned- that was news to you. “Why?”

“They just don’t like the idea that a human is a mage now,” he looked at you. “You know they’ve always discriminated between pure mages and mages who were once human.”

You were aware that Mingi was once human, however, you were not aware of the circumstances that brought Erebos to possess Mingi. “Can I ask how…”

Mingi seemed to understand and he nodded. “I was simply at the wrong place, at the wrong time. Erebos needed a human vessel who it could coexist with. Not all humans can live with a demon inside them, you know.”

You made an impressed face. “So there was something special about you?”

“You could say. Perhaps I was stronger- maybe physically, maybe mentally. We did have a rough time coexisting in the beginning but we’re used to each other now.”

“And why did Erebos need a human vessel? Because it was cursed?”

Mingi paused and you realised he was wondering if you should have asked that from him. He took a deep breath before he said, “Cursed and exiled from the demon realm, like Seonghwa.”

You were satisfied with his answer. “Do you ever wonder if there was a reason why you had to be the human that Erebos possessed?”

“I do,” he admitted. “Even though we haven’t found any answer yet. I guess it was fate, then. So I could meet the people and be here at this moment?” He looked at you and smiled. “Something like that?”

Before you could respond, his brows furrowed and he brought his hand to the side of your face, his fingers gripping the crevice between your ear and neck as he ran his thumb across your cheekbone. “Were you playing with fire? You’re smudged with soot-”

Perhaps, he noticed the way your eyes opened a fraction wider or your lips parted as if it was suddenly hard to breathe. Perhaps, he could hear the loud thumping of your heart. Or maybe he noticed the way your eyes scanned his face- you could see the browns in his eyes, the shadow his lashes casted over them, the mole under his eye. Maybe he could tell you loved the way his hair fell over his forehead, the dark and blue strands resembling the night sky.

You blinked and waited for him to draw away but he didn’t and it only made you more anxious for what was next. Swallowing once, you barely managed to whisper his name. He only caressed your cheekbone in answer, still seeming to be in a trance as he locked eyes with you. When he started leaning forward, you wondered if your eyes betrayed you in that moment- that he saw that you wanted this. Wanted him-

He paused when your noses almost brushed. “I-I shouldn’t-”

“It’s okay,” you breathed, locking eyes. “It’s… okay.”

What was okay, he wondered? The fact that he had come back to his senses before he did anything? Or was it an approval to go ahead and do whatever he wanted to do at that moment?

Mingi looked down and smiled a bit- whatever this was… it had been such a long time since he felt like this- like his nerves were on fire. When he found you smiling shyly as well, he couldn’t take it- he planted a kiss on your cheek, patting it once before saying he was heading inside, leaving you wondering how during that moment, not once did you think about the demon inside him.

Not once.

—----------------------

Later that night, when you were fixing up a loose thread on your dress in your room, you heard two sharp knocks- a sound you were very familiar with now. Somehow, Erebos and you had come up with this- if your door was slightly open, he could knock and come in, otherwise he would take it as a sign to bug off. It also applied to you and being on the end of a shut door was not a pleasant feeling, but you two were also crossing these boundaries now- opening a shut door just a fraction to check if the other was okay.

“What you doing?” Erebos sang as it entered, making itself home on your bed. You hummed in response- the demon could clearly see what you were doing. Breaking the thread with your teeth, you secured the stitch and put it aside, folding your arms as you shook your head at how comfortable the demon looked.

“I thought I made it clear that I don’t want you in my bed.”

Erebos scoffed. “The seat is not empty.”

You glanced towards the seat- you did not remember putting a bunch of clothes on it. You narrowed your eyes at the demon but decided to let it go. “Did you find the mage?”

“Just returned,” the demon answered, “Was my little bird waiting for me?”

“As if,” you tsk-ed, looking away- of course you were. You just wouldn’t ever admit it. After all, you waited all day for this part of the night.

And all night to see Mingi-

“I can taste the lies in the air, human,” the demon licked its lips. “Tell me… why did you ask Mingi about why I possessed him today?”

So it had been listening. You gulped, wondering if the demon had also witnessed the look in your eyes when Mingi was so close-

“I didn’t mean to ask,” you glared at it- Erebos knew you never probed. You never even asked it, save for that one time you did and got the silent treatment.

“I know,” the demon’s gaze softened for a mere second before it darkened. “And why did you look at Mingi like that? I thought I made it clear that you cannot look at anyone else that way?”

You rolled your eyes even though your heart sank. You did feel guilty, but somehow… it felt alright. “I can look at whoever I want whatever way I want.”

“Oh? Can you now?” Erebos chuckled deeply and you passed it an annoyed look, getting up to put your clothes back in the cupboard.

However, you did not expect to find it standing- no, towering over you when you turned around- you hadn’t even heard the demon move. You shut your eyes as you tried to calm your heart, but-

But the demon’s hands cupped your face so softly that for a second, you wondered if it was Mingi instead. Only upon opening your eyes and spotting the stars in its irises confirmed that it was indeed the demon.

Erebos looked conflicted as it scanned your eyes. Your gaze softened too- it had been a while since the demon looked at you like you were not a meal- an inside joke now. It reminded you of your first and only kiss, in the hills when the demon had nearly lost control. You leaned into the demon’s touch when it caressed your face and saw the telltale signs of a smile on its lips.

“Can you not look at Mingi with these eyes, little bird?” Erebos almost sounded hurt. “I don’t like it.”

“Erebos, I-”

“No,” the demon shook its head. “I don’t want to know- just let me…”

If the demon was going to ask for permission, it must have decided against it because it crashed its lips on yours, earning a surprised groan from you but you immediately melted into the kiss, clutching at the demon’s shirt. Erebos leaned down to kiss you better and it was just like the first time again, making you breathless and your heart ached as it yearned to be closer to the demon in every way possible.

You broke apart, already out of breath but Erebos’s lips were back on your skin, peppering kisses all the way down your jaw to your neck and then back up, looking at you once- perhaps to make sure if you were okay- before diving back in to kiss your lips. You responded more eagerly this time, your arms wrapping around its neck and the demon took that sign to pick you up, earning a giggle from you and you absolutely loved the way the demon smiled at you- it was pure. You didn’t doubt the demon’s intentions once and this just strengthened your beliefs.

Erebos placed you on the bed- not so gently this time- and you both laughed a bit, taking a moment to simply look at the other. You crawled on the demon’s lap, its arms going to hold your waist, and ran a hand through the soft strands of its hair- Mingi’s hair- that you so loved. You traced the edges of its face- Mingi’s face- and kissed the mole under its eye-

How could you kiss him and not see Mingi?

Erebos seemed to notice the hesitation in your eyes and you thought the demon looked sad for a moment before it craned its neck to kiss you again, slower this time, deeper, as if it wanted to say a lot but didn’t have the words for it. You kissed the demon back just like that, making out endlessly with its hands everywhere on your body until you heard it suppress a little groan. You drew back for a second but then it pushed you back on the bed, getting on top of you and-

Pressing its thigh between your legs as it kissed you almost hungrily- the sudden shift almost made you a little dizzy and you cupped its face, breaking apart-

“Erebos- tell me your name, please-”

The demon kissed you again, slowing down just a notch and you moaned into the kiss, loving as its hands found your bare skin, loving the way it rocked its body against yours, loving the way its plump lips tasted on yours, loving the gasp that left its mouth-

Not Erebos, your mind screamed and you broke apart for breath, noticing even in the faint light of the lamp that the eyes no longer had stars in it.

Mingi had taken over.

Mingi seemed to understand that you knew, yet, when he drew in and brushed his nose against you, you almost moaned. You became hyper aware of his hand on your bare waist where your shirt had lifted, of his other hand squeezing your neck gently as if all his self-control lay there, of his chest rocking against yours as he took deep breaths. This time, you were the one who pulled him in and swallowed all his hesitation as you kissed him, with a dreadful realisation that perhaps, you had failed to keep the boundaries, the distinctions clear. Mingi didn’t seem to mind though- he kissed you back just as enthusiastically, welcoming your tongue in his mouth.

Just as Mingi groaned in pleasure into the kiss, it changed into one of pain and he drew back abruptly. You noticed how his eyes blackened altogether as he clutched his head. You got up into a sitting position and leaned towards him to help but he pushed you away-

“Y/n, run.”

“No, Mingi- please-”

“No,” Mingi clenched his jaw and buried his head in the bed. You realised it was Erebos and the demon must be so, so angry- not only with Mingi, but you. You caressed his head despite his constant warnings and held him.

“Erebos,” you almost cried. “Please. Not like this.”

Mingi calmed down almost completely and you wondered if he had lost consciousness before he raised his head and you saw the stars in his angry eyes as it looked at you questioningly.

“I’m sorry,” you cried, wiping your eyes. “I don’t have anything else to say.”

Erebos was silent and you wondered if the demon hadn’t heard you until you noticed the shadows seeping out of it and spreading in the room. You squeezed the demon’s hand, locking eyes with it. “Look at me, Erebos.”

“Why?”

A strangled cry left you when you heard how broken, how devastated the demon sounded. Erebos buried its head in your lap and shadows continued to seep out of its body and you dared to touch the edge of one, drawing away with a cry- it seemed to burn.

“Erebos?” You caressed its head. “Erebos, please-”

“Go away,” the demon simply said. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

You pursed your lips, looking towards the door when you heard the sound of footsteps- it was Seonghwa and he looked utterly surprised. He rushed towards you and said, “You need to get away from Erebos- the shadows are not safe right now.”

“I can’t leave Erebos like this,” you cried.

“Take her before I hurt her,” Erebos said, almost falling limp and you snatched your arm away when Seonghwa tried to grab it.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t leave them like this- both Mingi and Erebos,” you told him and he looked conflicted. You shut your eyes and hugged their body, not minding the way your skin burned wherever it came in contact with the shadows. You hummed a melody that your father used to sing at your bed and Seonghwa gasped, drawing away from you-

The shadows were not hurting you- not anymore.

He watched both your and Mingi’s body melt into each other as you lost consciousness, the shadows no longer in the air. He made sure the two of you were breathing and were alright before he left the room and found his way to the kitchen, slumping on a chair-

Maybe it was time- never had Erebos been able to control its magic from hurting someone until this moment. It was as if even though the demon had lost consciousness, it still knew to protect you.

Seonghwa smiled at the two bodies that clung to each other, as if providing comfort. His smile was sad though- it looked like the curse would soon break.

It was going to be a mess.

—---------------------

You woke up with every muscle in your body aching as if you had overused it. Groaning, you turned in the bed, biting your lips to swallow the cry of pain that would have left you. You blinked a few times, trying to recall just what you had done last night to be this tired-

Mingi.

You got up with immense effort- he was not here anymore and it was dark outside- just how long had you been sleeping? You noticed the glass of water and a potion next to you, a note attached in Wooyoung’s handwriting that said ‘you better drink this before you move’. Knowing Wooyoung’s potion would probably do you some good, you drank the bitter pink liquid before exiting the room-

It was so, so dark outside. Unnaturally dark and you could barely see anything. With a dreadful realisation, you started towards Mingi’s room, letting your hand against the wall guide you towards the end of the hall. You found a faint light from the room and when you entered, you first saw Seonghwa leaning towards something, a white flame lighting the lone candle in the corner-

Seonghwa was caressing something- someone. Mingi.

Seonghwa’s head turned when a strangled cry left your mouth and he urged you to wait outside. You stood like a little kid behind the door until he urged you to follow him to Wooyoung’s room, who was going through some notes.

“I can’t find anything,” Wooyoung sighed in defeat, slumping on the couch. “Don’t you remember if something like this has happened in the past?”

“Each curse is unique,” Seonghwa simply said as if that explained everything.

“What’s happening?” You tried not to sound frantic but failed. “Why are they like this?”

“Do you remember what happened before you passed out?” Seonghwa asked.

“I… I was trying to calm them down- Mingi and Erebos.” you recalled. “I was humming a song my father taught me and then… why did I pass out? Was it because of their magic?”

“You could have died, y/n,” Seonghwa shook his head. “Somehow, they protected you with their magic, even when they lost control. Do you know that’s the first time they’ve ever been able to do that?”

Your heart sank- you recalled all the stories Mingi and Erebos had told you about not being able to protect the people they loved when they lost control and the shadows burned them- they burned you a bit too but when you hummed…

“They must have felt you even when they were far gone,” Wooyoung smiled sadly. “I don’t know if I should be pleased about it though…”

“Well, we have got to do something about Mingi and Erebos,” Seonghwa said. “I wouldn’t suggest you going to them right now- it might not work in your favour.”

You didn’t quite understand what they were getting at. “But it happened because of me. I… I knew Erebos wouldn’t like it if I became closer to Mingi, but…”

“It was bound to happen sooner or later,” Wooyoung muttered and Seonghwa looked at him in warning but he shook his head. “She should know.”

“What now?” Your voice quivered.

“You should know that it’s not your fault,” Wooyoung said gently. “The demon was cursed. Did they ever tell you why?”

You shook your head in denial and Wooyoung motioned at Seonghwa to continue. “Ages ago, Erebos was a high status demon in their realm. The Lord of Shadows. Erebos was powerful enough to control other demons, and though it had better things to do than involve itself in petty mischief, it was also powerful enough to undo their damage- mainly human possession which was very rampant at that time. One day… Erebos came across some demon who was violating the demon code- we are not allowed to leave evidence of demon possession, but that demon wanted to show the world that it could do whatever it pleased.

“Erebos wasn’t going to involve itself but one thing led to another and since Erebos held the authority, it killed that demon. Turns out the demon was some other high lord’s underling who got pissed and reported it to the court where Erebos was going to receive its judgement.”

“But… it wasn’t Erebos’s fault,” you said and Seonghwa nodded.

“The demons aren’t forgiving. If they forgive, wouldn’t that make them human?” He smiled. “Erebos could have been ‘grounded’, in layman terms, or stripped of his title but demons are a sadistic bunch. They twisted his intentions thinking that the demon ‘pitied’ the human. They cursed him to live inside a human, to feel like a human does, until-”

“Until?” You waited but Seonghwa glanced at Wooyoung now. Your heart sank as you recalled something familiar-

The scroll Mingi had hid under the plank in the hallway.

You got up and went outside, walking almost mechanically towards the end of the hallway and took out the scroll and watched Wooyoung shake his head, confirming your suspicions. You opened it and read it again:

“Once the shadow, once the light

As one, the two must thrive

A curse both must fight

To one’s end, they dive

For love, with all their might

Hearts awakened, live alive”

“What does it mean?” You went back inside the room and spread the scroll on the table. “They’re clearly talking about Erebos, but…”

“‘A curse both must fight, to one’s end they dive, for love’,” Seonghwa quoted. “They will continue to fight the curse to one’s end because ultimately, only one of them can live inside that body. No matter how much they try to coexist, it’s not possible- this episode they’re having is not their first one but it might be their final one, because…”

“‘For love’,” Wooyoung’s smile was sad. “Once the two fall in love with the same person… the curse will break. It’s twisted because a demon is not supposed to feel those emotions but Erebos can feel them now, because of Mingi. Mingi has fallen in love a few times in the past centuries but Erebos never gave in, until…”

It couldn’t be.

“This does not make any sense, it’s stupid,” you almost spat. “Is the curse even real or was it just to mock Erebos? And Erebos is a demon, it cannot love-”

You recalled that night in the graveyard well and good. You recalled what Erebos said about wanting you, wanting to be with you. Could you not call it love when it did so much for you, waited to be with you, touched you like you could break, kissed you like time was running short?

And Mingi… He told you not to look at him the way you looked at Erebos, like the demon was everything you ever wanted.

“It… cannot be,” you said, not realising your face was wet and your vision was blurry. “What will happen?”

“We do not know,” Wooyoung patted your back. “Maybe try talking to them. Seonghwa, let’s allow her to. We need to know if this is just another episode or if the curse is breaking- if this might be the end.”

“Why did no one tell me about the curse?” You looked at the two.

“Not our place to tell you, and they have forbidden us to,” Seonghwa shook his head. “We only let you know now because the situation called for it.”

“If I had known-”

“If you had known, it would have still happened anyway,” Wooyoung squeezed your shoulder. “Love is not a feeling you can control.”

You stared into the fire for the longest moment, wishing you could undo everything from the moment you met Mingi and Erebos. You wished you had not decided to stay, nor found a family in this odd group. You wished you hadn’t fallen for a demon and then the human who coexisted in one body. But no matter how much you cursed yourself over it, it was no use.

Love was not a feeling you could control.

You had long since stopped crying, now in a state of numbness. Seonghwa and Wooyoung were patiently waiting for you to make a decision.

“I’m going to try talking to them,” you swallowed the choking feeling in your throat. “I can’t give up- not like this.”

“You’re strong,” Wooyoung smiled proudly. “And I think only you could have done this- make a demon fall for you. How crazy is that?”

You laughed at that, hiding your face as it settled in and a sob left your body. Wooyoung was quick to get up and rub your back.

“It’s tragic, I know, but it has been very painful for them to coexist in one body,” he told you. “We helped in any way we could but it was never enough. I think they found comfort in you- both Mingi and Erebos. It’s going to be okay, don’t lose faith.”

“I don’t want to lose them,” you cried. “I don’t want to lose either of them. It’s very selfish of me, but-”

“We’ve grown quite attached to them too,” Seonghwa admitted. “But we can’t avoid it. It’s cruel, but it is the way it is.”

You nodded, preparing yourself for what was next, hoping for a miracle that you knew might not come.

—------------------------

It was dark and it was cold. There was no way out. The darkness hugged Mingi and the cold settled in his bones. There was not a sound- not even of his own breath. The shadows were endless.

Mingi wondered how he had gotten here but there was no answer. It was just the way it was, how it happened. There was no one to blame, no one to point fingers at. He had learned not to question how cruel the hands of fate could be. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder if it really had to be this way.

Mingi called Erebos’s name, hoping to find solace in the darkness of their subconsciousness but Erebos seemed to have given in to the void as well. So Mingi waited, not alone but so lonely. He waited for Erebos to wake up, for a miracle to happen-

“Mingi? Can you hear me?”

It was your voice, so distant that he wondered if he was imagining it.

“Erebos? Mingi? Please, talk to me.”

No- it was real. Their names were being called. Mingi looked around, blindly thrashing around in hopes of finding Erebos, wondering if the demon could hear it too.

As Mingi started gaining a bit of consciousness, he could make out another figure in the void- Erebos’s figure- he did not know if the demon had a body of its own but whenever the two interacted in their subconscious, it was like they were looking in a mirror. The only difference had always been in their eyes.

“Erebos,” Mingi nudged the demon’s body, sitting with its head buried between its knees, arms wrapped around itself as if that could protect the demon from what was ahead. “Wake up.”

The demon didn’t budge and Mingi heard your voice call for them again. He was pretty sure Erebos was ignoring it on purpose now. “Hey, I know you can hear me and her. Look at me.”

The demon finally gave an indication of not having lost it completely by tapping its fingers- a sign Mingi would have missed had he not been paying attention. Mingi sighed deeply. “How long are you going to be like this?”

“I’m just wondering…” Erebos finally said, not looking up. “If this is the end.”

Mingi was wondering too- it had never been so dark here. He could feel their magic getting out of control, nothing like they had ever experienced before. No matter how much he tried to get back into his consciousness, it wasn’t working.

“The curse, huh?” Mingi shook his head. “So you’re in love with y/n? I thought you were incapable of love.”

“I thought I was too,” Erebos finally looked up. “Until I found myself protecting her with all my might when you kissed her and we lost control.”

Mingi looked away- it was his fault too. The first time the demon fell in love and he had to be there and mess things up-

“I know what you’re thinking,” Erebos smiled. “I’m not sure I could have fallen in love if it weren’t for you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I am a demon, Mingi,” Erebos scoffed. “I may only be feeling these human emotions because I live within a human body now.”

“That is not how this works, and you know it,” Mingi tsk-ed.

“You’re the one who insisted that demons do not have a heart,” Erebos tsk-ed back.

“I was wrong. Seonghwa is also a demon- he would not have been helping us for centuries if he did not have a heart. He never demanded anything in return. And you…” Mingi shook his head. “I know you blame yourself over what happened when I first fell in love. It was not your fault, and if you were a demon, you wouldn’t have been wallowing in guilt. You would have enjoyed my misery.”

“Who says I didn’t?”

“Don’t pretend to be heartless now when you visit the grave every year and pray to god knows who,” Mingi said and Erebos pursed its lips- it had always tried to force Mingi the furthest back in their consciousness whenever it did that, but it looked like the demon may have slipped. “My point is, you don’t love y/n because of me. You love her because she looked at you- from the beginning. She didn’t care that you were a demon. And you love her because you have a heart of your own, no matter how… dark or ugly it may be.”

Erebos laughed at that and Mingi shared a grin as well, silence settling once again. “Okay, you’re right. We wouldn’t be here right now if I wasn’t in love with her. And you’re in love with her too.”

Mingi smiled sadly. “How could I not be in love with her when she is the way she is?”

“Little bird,” Erebos smiled fondly and Mingi was taken aback by the display of those emotions in the demon’s eyes. Its smile fell when your voice rang in the void again, calling for them both, begging for them to come back. “I know I wished I was never cursed to be in a human body, but I can’t say that I regret it now that I know what it is like to be loved.”

Mingi felt his heart sink. “What are you getting at?”

“I shouldn’t have been in this body in the first place,” Erebos sounded determined. “I do not deserve to choose to live on and kill you in the process.”

Mingi was taken aback by the sudden declaration. “I know only one of us can make it out alive but… I’m only human. I will grow old and die anyway. If you choose to live… I don’t think I would mind, I…” Mingi laughed in disbelief. “I can’t believe I’m willingly giving you the choice to live in my body and kill me in the process, but Erebos… that human loves you. You deserve to be loved too.”

Erebos shook its head. “I do not deserve to be loved, but I am thankful for the love I have received. I cannot go back and choose to live. The human loves you too, Mingi. I think she deserves a human, not a demon by her side for the rest of her life.”

“But-”

“No buts,” Erebos got up. “She’s human, Mingi. I would ruin her. And even if I love her with all my heart, I wouldn’t be able to live when she dies- because I will outlive her. I would rather kill myself than see her dead. You humans… you’re used to the notion of death. You understand that you grow old and die. I do not.”

Erebos raised its hands and the shadows gathered in its palms. Mingi took a step back, almost panicking. “What are you doing?”

“Putting an end to this for once and for all,” Erebos announced.

“Wait- wait,” Mingi pounced on him, surprising the demon as they fell. “You don’t get to go just like this. You can’t do this to her- you have to tell her.”

“I can’t face her again-”

“No, you listen to me,” Mingi groaned in frustration. “You can’t do this without saying goodbye.”

“If you think my mind will change once I see her, you’re wrong.”

“I know it won’t,” Mingi shook his head. “But she deserves a goodbye too.”

Erebos thought about it and Mingi could see the doubt in the demon’s eyes. Before Erebos could make a decision, Mingi grabbed Erebos’s hands, the shadows looping around his arm now.

“What do you think you are doing?” Erebos tried snatching its hands away but Mingi smiled, forcing the shadows to shift to himself and-

Forcing Erebos into consciousness.

You felt the shift in the air instantly and watched Erebos lift its head and look at you, almost in disbelief and confusion. A short sob left you as you knelt down next to him, bringing your hands to the demon’s face but hesitating, letting them hover until Erebos relaxed.

“You’re… back,” you caressed its face. “Are you okay?”

Erebos didn’t say anything, simply leaned forward to wrap its arms around you as if it, too, had been afraid. You smiled- this was the first time Erebos actually hugged you. You looped your own arms around its neck and the demon shifted under you, burying its face in the crook of your neck and staying like that for the longest time, not saying a word, simply relishing the feeling-

“Erebos,” you finally whispered. “What happened?”

Erebos didn’t respond, instead nudged your neck with its nose and you would have thought the demon was just having a moment until you felt something wet on your neck and you drew back to see-

The demon was crying.

“What’s the matter?” Your heart broke at the way Erebos was looking at you. Its hands were shaking as they cupped your face and caressed your skin, scanning you as if it was memorising the way you looked. “Erebos, please, tell me what’s going on.”

The demon only smiled, tears streaking down its face. You felt your heart sink in the worst possible way, looking around to see the shadows still wild around you. “The curse… it hasn’t broken yet, has it? Is Mingi okay?”

“He’s okay,” Erebos assured you but you couldn’t relax.

“Is the curse going to break?”

The demon’s silence was enough. You took a deep breath. “Tell me how to undo everything. I will leave. I don’t want you two to live like this-”

“It’s already done,” Erebos wiped the tears from your eyes. “It’s going to end soon, little bird.”

“What do you mean?” You cried out. “What’s going to happen?”

“It’s been an honour to have been loved by you.”

“No, no, please,” you gripped the demon’s hands. “What are you doing?”

“I was going to leave but Mingi forced me back here so I could… say goodbye,” Erebos laughed a little. “I think it was wise of him to do so.”

“Leave where?” You whispered and you heard a shuffle of sound behind you, Wooyoung and Seonghwa now present in the room. Erebos nodded at them, mouthing a ‘thank you’. Seonghwa took a deep breath, turning around and facing the white flame while Wooyoung put one hand over his heart and one over Seonghwa’s shoulder.

“I was never meant to be here,” Erebos kissed your forehead, lingering. “This is how it is supposed to end. You deserve to be loved by a human, not a demon.”

“That makes no sense,” you let out a short laugh. “I… Please, don’t do this. Tell me how to make it better- there must be a loophole. It doesn’t have to end with one of you-”

You couldn’t say it, hiding your face in Erebos’s lap as you cried your heart out, the demon caressing your body. The sobs racked through your body and you felt like you were in physical pain- you simply couldn’t seem to catch your breath. There was so much you wanted to say to Erebos, so much you wished to tell the demon but you couldn’t form the words.

“I don’t want to leave seeing you cry,” Erebos’s voice was filled with sadness. “I want to see you smiling before I leave. Please, little bird? I don’t have much time.”

You willed everything in you to tone down your sobs and got up, the demon shaking its head in amusement at your state. “What a mess. Still so pretty.”

Erebos tucked your hair back. “It’s been… a long life in this human body. I’ve never felt alive, not once, until I met you. There’s so much I want to thank you for. I’m not even sure if it’s because I am in a human body that I feel all this. Maybe if I was the Lord of Shadows, I still would have found you and still would have loved you. I feel like I was meant to be here.”

“Stop being so sappy,” you pouted and the demon chuckled, wiping the fresh stream of tears from your eyes. You shut your eyes, memorising the way the demon’s skin felt- cold. Too cold to be human. When the demon hugged you again, you memorised the pattern of its breathing- uneven. It had always been irregular. And when the demon kissed your cheek, you memorised the way it felt- like a feather. When the demon joined its forehead with yours, you noted in your heart the sound of its breath against yours. And when the demon kissed you on your lips, you tucked that feeling into the deepest corner of your heart- the feeling of being enveloped in the safest of shadows.

You stayed like that for a few moments before its body shook and you finally opened your eyes. You could see the light in Erebos’s eyes fade away and it smiled, struggling to keep upright. You sucked in your tears, remembering that Erebos wished for you to smile. You patted your lap and the demon lied down, looking up at you.

“Will you tell me your name now?” You asked.

The demon smiled. “It’s nothing much.”

“Just tell me your name,” you glared at it and the demon laughed. You memorised the sound of it as well.

“Tirich,” it said. “My name is Tirich. It means darkness- or shadow.”

“Tirich,” you called and the demon shut its eyes, taking in a deep breath. “Such a beautiful name. Tirich,” you repeated again, kissing its forehead.

“Y/n,” it called and you shut your eyes, willing yourself not to cry at the way it said your name. “My little bird.” You laughed and Tirich took one of your hands in its own, while your other caressed its head. “Can you sing me that song again? Before I go to sleep?”

You nodded. Tirich looked over at the healer and the demon still hanging by. “Come here, you two. Stop hanging like bats in the corner.”

You laughed at the duo, looking as messy as you with tear-stained faces and trembling hands. They came to sit near Tirich and the demon looked fondly at them for once, making Wooyoung shake his head.

“Not how I imagined you’d go, but this is better,” he grinned. Tirich grinned back and looked at Seonghwa, tsk-ing.

“Remind me why they kicked you out of the demon realm again?”

“Shut up,” Seonghwa muttered and everyone laughed at that. “At least I accept that this is the way I am. You’re still wondering if you’re looking at us with heart eyes because of Mingi.”

“It’s definitely Erebos- Tirich,” Wooyoung smiled as he corrected. “I must say I’m disappointed. We’ve spent centuries with you but you go ahead and tell your name to the girl you just met-”

“You wish you were me,” you stuck out your tongue at the healer and he did the same. Tirich coughed a little, drawing everyone’s attention back.

“I’m going now,” the demon said. “Please… sing me the song.”

You kissed the demon’s forehead one last time, whispering in its ear that you loved every moment you got to be with it and will never forget it. You hummed the song, caressing the demon’s face, your voice starting to tremble as you felt the shadows around you recede back and back until nothing was left. You didn’t stop- not when Seonghwa and Wooyoung hugged each other and cried. Not when the demon’s body went limp in your lap. The tears fell and you continued singing until the sobs took over when nothing was left and you felt the body in your lap move again.

Mingi was back.

Mingi let you cry with your face buried in his chest for the longest time until you passed out from exhaustion. He tucked you in his bed and he finally sat down, feeling the most empty even though his heart felt full for once. It was as if a part of him was gone now. He stared at his palm, so very human. He felt weak, and he couldn’t make it to the bed- he passed out as well, though Wooyoung came right on time, knowing it would be tough for Mingi to use a body that was fully human without the strength of a demon that had braced it for centuries.

The healer tucked Mingi beside you, shaking his head at the irony- two humans who lost a demon that they loved in their own twisted ways.

—----------------------

“I thought I said I wanted this in red and black, not blue and black.”

“I distinctly remember you saying how blue was a nice colour-”

“For you!” Wooyoung groaned. “I wanted my scarf in red and black!”

“Well…” you considered for a moment, looking down at the bundle of your knitted scarfs. “My bad?”

Seonghwa, who was watching you two bicker, snorted loudly, making Wooyoung jump up and down in frustration and you promised between breathless laughter that you would make him another scarf. Seonghwa shook his head. “We know you’re obsessed with the colour blue, but I want mine in pink and white. Not blue and white.”

You pursed your lips, muttering, “Noted.” The duo nodded at you before continuing to set the table for dinner. At that moment, Mingi came from outside, having collected fresh oranges from the trees not far from your house. You waved at him and he smiled, placing the basket on the kitchen counter before hopping to you and planting a kiss on your temple.

“That’s mine, right?” Mingi pointed at the blue and black scarf in your lap.

“You like it?”

Mingi nodded and you handed him the scarf, smiling at how his eyes lit up. He went to try it on in front of the mirror near the door and you gathered your wool, getting up. One of the balls of wool rolled down and before you could grab it, it continued to roll down endlessly across the living room and you groaned.

“Seonghwa, can you please make this house stand straighter? Look at that,” you pointed at the ball of wool still unrolling, bumping into whatever was in the way and changing directions. “The elevation is all messed up.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Seonghwa rolled his eyes. You made a face before gathering the thread and following it to see where it unrolled off to, sitting under the stairs now. You picked it up and started rolling it, looking up and halting entirely-

On the table where you collected your candles, one of them was burning with a black flame- you wondered if you were imagining it but you took a closer look, in awe at how dark the flame was- you had never seen a flame that was shades of black. You picked the candle up, running your finger over the flame but it didn’t burn. You wondered if this was one of Wooyoung’s strange objects he used for healing-

You frowned, putting your finger right over the flame and feeling the familiarity of the flame, no, the shadow.

It couldn’t be.

“Uh, Seonghwa!” You almost screamed, making everyone look at you. “Is this your flame?”

Before Seonghwa could even make his way to you, you were rushing to him, surprised when the air didn’t make the flame budge, not one bit. You stopped when you reached them, blowing at the flame and everyone collectively gasped when it didn’t blow out.

“Wait, is this you?” Wooyoung looked at Seonghwa who shook his head furiously.

“My flame is white- you’ve seen it.”

“That’s not me. Mingi?”

“Isn’t this-” Mingi narrowed his eyes. “Douse it with water.”

“No,” you hid the candle away from him but Wooyoung was quick to grab the glass of water and spill it on the candle, making you shout and almost cry but you recovered when you saw the flame was still burning in its full glory. You settled the candle on the table and everyone stared at it.

“Should I say it?” Seonghwa looked at everyone. “It’s a shadow flame. It has to be Tirich.”

Your heart sank. “How?”

“I don’t know,” Seonghwa smiled in disbelief, looking at Mingi. “You tell.”

Mingi poked his tongue in his cheek, a clear indication that he knew something. You waited for him to spill but he groaned, overwhelmed by everyone’s questioning gaze. “Look, it’s something Tirich said long ago as a joke- I didn’t know the demon could actually do it.”

“So it’s Tirich?”

“I’m not sure,” Mingi touched the flame. “Feels like it but I don’t feel its presence, you know?” Seonghwa nodded in agreement. “Maybe the demon gathered all its remaining energy to be this undying-” Mingi pressed his fingers on the wick of the candle, the flame disappearing but reappearing right when he pulled his fingers back, “-stubborn flame.”

Wooyoung cackled, clapping his hands in amusement. “It’s something Tirich would do. Just can’t leave us alone, can it?”

You laughed, nodding, happy tears leaving your eyes as you watched the flame burn endlessly, the candle wax not even melting. Mingi patted your back and the two of you shared a grin, a sense of relief settling over you.

The candle was placed on the fireplace mantel by you. You insisted that this was Tirich’s favourite spot though Wooyoung argued that it was the roof but you refused to give in. This was where you had first talked to Tirich and this was where you met every night. Once in a while, someone would try to see if the flame would budge- mostly Wooyoung again. He would try water, salt, everything in his book but the flame seemed to be immortal. Sometimes, when you watched it as you thought of Erebos, you could swear it flickered in response. You could swear it burned brighter whenever Mingi and you watched it together with the fondest memories of the demon in your hearts.

It didn’t hurt anymore, not like it did earlier. It was like the demon was still with you, in the form of that flame, watching over you. Whenever you felt like crying, you recalled how Tirich said it wanted to see you smile, always. So you never cried, at least not at your favourite spot where the candle stood. You only cried in Mingi’s arms who was always there for you, so loving and caring, so warm. He understood that you missed the demon- he, too, did. He had to cope not only emotionally but physically as well, so you focused your energy on trying to make it easier for him as well.

You learned how to etch on metal and with the help of Seonghwa, you created a candle stand for ‘Tirich’s candle’, as you all called it. It was a beautiful shade of silver and you etched a phrase on it that you would always remember. When you showed it off to everyone, they loved your idea and agreed the candle looked better with the new stand. You took to decorating the mantle next, everyone leaving a little something that they had associated with Tirich on it- a small bottle that Wooyoung used for storing their potion, a piece of mirror Seonghwa had brought from the demon realm where sometimes he could see his home, and the blue ribbon Mingi had tied the scroll with- the scroll which had turned to ashes the moment the curse broke.

You stared at the finished product now that the mantle was full of things surrounding the candle, your heart full as you read the etching on the candle stand.

Hearts Awakened, Live Alive.

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icouldntcareless22 · 3 months

Text

call you later

pairing: beomgyu x f!reader

synopsis: beomgyu swears women fall at his feet and he's in fact, single by choice—what better way to prove this to you than collecting the numbers of random people on the street?

you're in on the little fun too, until you manage to get soobin's number. because suddenly, beomgyu's a debbie downer—for whatever reason.

genre: comedy, fluff, best friends to lovers

a/n: late beomgyu bday fic...and its cheesy as hell 😭😭 anyways, nobody understands how happy i got after finding these icons, its literally perfect. this is exactly how he looks in the fic !!!! also lol this is practically me gushing over beomgyu while writing, its so self indulgent

You don't know how this became topic of conversation for the hundredth time this week. After the events of the failed attempt of trying to get your upperclassman's number, Yeonjun—Beomgyu has been talking nonstop on how he's the most qualified person in your life that could hand you flirting tips, completely dismissing the fact that he's been single for the past two years.

He stops walking when you remind him that very necessary piece of information he seems to forget a little too often. "It's by choice! I'm single by choice!" you hear him yell. You don't pay him any mind, scrolling through your phone as you continue to walk.

He catches up to you rather quickly, hands in pockets as he walks backwards facing you, brown hair prickling his eyes because of the wind. "Do you seriously believe I can't get dates?"

You shove your phone back in your pocket, providing him with your full attention.

"Would you believe me if I said yes?" you enjoy how his hand shoot up to go over his chest, fauxing hurt with a huge pout—you've been telling him he'd do well majoring in theatre arts.

"You've lost your charm Choi, your age's getting to you."

He cracks a smile of disbelief, before continuing on, "I'm twenty-one not eighty-one knucklehead."

Beomgyu turns from facing you, walking by your side again. He clicks his tongue before saying, "You'd think that the closest people to Beomgyu would know him by now."

"Oh no, you're speaking in third person again." you whine.

He'd do this entire thing of narrating his life when he deems it necessary—which really should be never. It's also another reason why you're convinced theatre is his second calling—second to his very dramatic declaration of love to music.

"Yeah, because my best friend in the entire world thinks I'm a loser!"

He wasn't too far off. "Okay, I'll be honest. I do think you're a loser—"

"You're a loser." he retaliates.

"I was just about to compliment you!"

"How was I supposed to know? You don't follow an insult with a compliment, that's like, against the rules of socializing!"

You opt to narrow your eyes at Beomgyu instead of replying, taking the silence route. Beomgyu returns your glare, before huffing.

A few steps without anyone speaking until, "The compliment..." he mutters around a fake cough.

You snap your head to the brunette, lips slightly parted at his shameless attempt of getting a compliment. You punch his shoulder lightly before laughing a little in disbelief but also in a familiar knowing way—Beomgyu's always been like this.

When he gives you a shrug paired with childish pout as to say 'it wouldn't hurt', you give in, sighing. "I was about to say that I think you're handsome but you ruined that dipshit."

It's quiet again, and usually, you'd look to your side, trying to relish in your friend's reaction — it's always so reactive, animated in a way that makes the receiving end feel happy despite the context — but you don't, instead, your eyes were focused on the path you were walking on. It was wide, the greenery of spring occupying both sides, aftermath of the disastrous, lonely winter completely dissolved.

"You do?"

You almost laugh before his tone set on you a little more; his voice was lower, and you felt his eyes hesitantly looking at you, almost like he's genuinely looking for your affirmation.

You choose to look back at him, pursing your lips as you pretend to study the features you've grown accustomed to for the past five years.

You do think he's handsome—it's a given, even now, his bare skin devoid of any noticeable acne scars, lively and clear, his lashes—though a contrast to his boyish charm—so pretty and long you often find yourself feel a little envious whenever your finger would brush over them in awe. And god, if you could even begin to describe the way his lips—

He scoffs, turning away from your stare, pulling you out of your own thoughts. You blink a few times, before also tearing your eyes from the man walking beside you.

You went on too long without saying anything, how embarrassing. Clearing your throat you say, "I do."

He sighs. "You took too long to say that, I don't believe you."

You roll your eyes—you know what he wants. "I think you're handsome, Beomgyu."

You're not taken by surprise when he throws his arm over your shoulders, a teasing smile annoyingly plastered on his face as he shoves it a little too close, forcing you to look at him — you wouldn't complain anyway. "Awe, is little Y/N realizing Beomgyu's the love of her life, her soulmate, her beloved—"

"You're pushing it," you whine trying to push his face away, though the smile on your face is hard to hide. "I just called you handsome, it's not like I'm blind."

To the wanderers around you, the ones sitting on benches enjoying the view of cherry blossoms, they'd assume Beomgyu was your boyfriend with the way he had his arm comfortably laying off your shoulder.

"I'm not just a pretty face Y/N. In fact, I'm so cool that I could get the number of the first girl that passes me."

"No, no you couldn't."

Beomgyu naturally takes this as a challenge when he scoffs, finally removing his arm from you, "Watch me."

That's how it started. The ten minute stroll to get the park's infamous ice cream turning into something way bigger than it originally was.

"Her." you say, one hand on the rough bark of the tree you both were hiding behind, another used to discreetly point at the woman who had a child on her lap, clearly busy as she yelled on the phone.

Beomgyu was directly behind you, his head over yours, as he tries to get a good look of who you were pointing at.

"Are you crazy? She has a kid!" he whisper shouts, though the situation really didn't call for it. The woman was at the least three yards away from the tree you guys were behind.

"I thought love knows no bounds."

That seems to get him, using his beloved philosophy against him.

"It—it does if she's married!"

"You're so traditional. People can raise their kids on their own."

When he doesn't budge, unconvinced of taking such a chance, you turn to face him. Which is a mistake because now you realize how close he was. You clear your throat, dismissing the way the proximity was weirdly effecting you. "You lost. Bet's done."

"What? No! I have seventeen numbers and you have like...five. You lost, fair and square."

"This isn't fair! You made me ask an old man for his number, I had to stay there for twenty entire minutes just so he could type it in!"

"I'm not going Y/N, nothing you can do can convince me." he says, eyes shut as he childishly crosses his arms, head turned to the side, chin up high.

You glare at him before shoving your hand down your jeans pocket for spare change—surprisingly feeling paper. When you pull out the mysterious object, your eyes widen at seeing a twenty dollar bill. You've never gotten this lucky before!

It was too late to shove it back in because Beomgyu opens an eye to peek at what you were doing, noticing the bill you had in your hand.

You look at the boy, who was wide-eyed, then back to your very lucky money. "Fuck..." you groan, slapping the bill on his palm, internally mourning the loss of your money.

"You work miracles Y/N." he says cheekily. You deadpan, which gets the man holding up his hands as defense, flashing the money he just got out of you, with a teasing smile before he proudly turns to approach the woman.

Was that even worth your money?

Chewing slightly on your bottom lip, you observe through narrowed eyes—you can't really make out what he's saying, but the woman's brows were furrowed. Not a good sign.

A smirk makes way on your face as you lean against the tree, arms crossed.

Beomgyu still wears a smile, saying something again. You think that's the end of it, he apologized for bothering her and failed— but that isn't what happens.

Your smirk slowly falls when you see him typing something in his phone.

There's no way.

Before leaving, he gives the kid on the woman's lap a high five.

No way.

"You got her number?!" you shout in disbelief when he's finally in front of you.

"Keep it down!"

You're impatient, waiting for his response to your question, but with the way he had his chin raised proudly, hands in pocket, you got the answer.

You blink a few times, trying to piece your shock together. "But how? She's married! She—"

He gasps before pointing an accusatory finger at you. "I knew you saw that ring! You were trying to embarrass me!" you don't reply, instead just crossing your arms, huffing. "But see who came out on top? This guy." he turns his finger from you to himself, a smile of accomplishment spread on his face.

"Okay, I get it. But is she seriously cheating on her spouse while having a kid? That's fucking messed up."

"I just asked her where I could get the best cakes. She said BonBon's Bakery, which is, like, thirty minutes away."

You narrow your eyes, mouth wide—he can't just do this! "You didn't get her number! You—you tricked me!"

"Yes I did, and I'm proud." He says, walking to go behind you again, searching for your next victim.

You sigh, "Why'd you ask that anyway?"

"What, the cake? Because my birthday's soon idiot."

Oh yeah, his birthday.

"Go up to... the the blonde one! Wait, no, nevermind."

You furrow your brows, "Why'd you just take that back?"

He's quick to reply, "No reason. Oh! Go up to him."

You don't bother to look at who he was pointing at now, instead focusing your attention on the blonde Beomgyu had previously pointed at.

He had a pair of sony headphones, walking, eyes glued to his phone. "Soobin." the name slips out your lips absentmindedly as your eyes follow his figure.

"The random guy I'm pointing at is Soobin?" Beomgyu asks scratching his head, playing dumb.

No, the random guy he's pointing at is a middle aged man with a bald spot. You get into action, quickly walking at the direction of Soobin, who was by now, very far.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Beomgyu's hand is on your wrist, making you turn your head back to him. You tilt your head. "Going up to Soobin and getting his number?"

He breaks into an uneasy smile. "But you know him. That's an unfair advantage."

"I don't know him, you know him. I'm playing on fair grounds." you say, a little confused on why he was caring about advantages anyway—Beomgyu had double the numbers you had, he was winning.

When he doesn't let go, you decide to just shake his loose hold on you, chuckling awkwardly, giving him one last look before trying to catch up to the blonde.

Beomgyu never felt so much nervousness as he waited behind the tree, watching the scene unfold between you and his other best friend, Soobin.

His eyes fall down to see the scattered dandelions in the grass. He gulps before quickly bending down to pluck one out. It's a little childish—the way he holds the flower close to his lips, blowing air with all his force, making sure the dandelion is devoid of any white fluff. Wishing that your beyond terrible flirting skills would be so unflattering that Soobin would reject you.

Which is not the case.

When Soobin bashfully waves, a small smile on his face as he turns away from you, walking away—Beomgyu finds out at the age of twenty-one, that wishing upon a dandelion was a hoax. It's further rubbed in his face when you skip towards him, a wide smile on your face.

He drops the dead flower, pursing his lips as he steps on it.

"Guess who just got a number." you sing-song, waving your phone at him.

"Haha, congrats." he manages to smile, rolling his eyes.

"I'm going to catch up to you and win, be scared." you threaten though, your tone a little too excited, full of pride. Was this how Beomgyu felt on an hour basis? Because god, does it feel great.

"I think we should stop here for today."

You snap your head to Beomgyu, brows furrowed. "What? No!"

"We've been here for more than two hours, my legs are tired." he whines with a pout.

You take notice of your surroundings— the once blue sky was now a deep shade of orange, the park was a lot more empty, only a couple people walking down the path.

Yeah, you should definitely go home now.

"We're ending this formally tomorrow, 6PM sharp. Whoever has the most numbers gets fifty from the loser."

He nods before holding out his hand. "Deal."

You shake it, "Deal."

Though you smiled, you couldn't help but feel as if Beomgyu's mood had taken a complete 180.

You dismiss it—he probably is just tired.

Movie Sundays—epitome of the typical movie nerd enthusiasts gathering around one TV screen on a specific day, in a specific time and binging 70's shit that is no longer relevant in today's society.

When you open your door, it's typical Beomgyu with his plaid shirt over his plain white one, barging into your apartment like he was your roommate and comfortably following through his usual routine.

"Take off your shoes you hooligan." It's a little ridiculous how often you have to remind him, but that seems to be apart of the routine too.

"It's literally just crocs."

"Yeah, crocs that stepped in dog shit on the way here."

"You're so dramatic." he mumbles, but still takes them off anyway. You would've shot back with a 'funny coming from you' but routine calls, so, you let him go.

You go to your bedroom, fetching a couple pillows before going back to the couch.

Movie Sundays often ended with both of you losing track of time, slipping into deep sleep the moment the clock struck midnight.

It was never your intention to make this movie ordeal into a sleepover on your couch, but that's usually what ended up happening, so preparing for it is always a good idea. Waking up with sore necks proved to be the official worst way to start a day—you'd know.

It's also the reason why Movie Sundays are now held on Saturdays—the change being made around three years ago. It's ridiculous, some would think that by now, you'd call it Movie Saturdays but Beomgyu said that it'd 'take away the magic' if you did — whatever that meant.

"Did you run out of water bottles?" he yells from the kitchen.

"I don't know, check the fridge!"

Beomgyu was tasked with getting the snacks and some water, you didn't have to do much compared to him but he seemed to enjoy getting the autonomy so nobody minded.

"Your fridge is so dystopian." Beomgyu comments, plopping beside you on the couch, throwing you a packet of cheespuffs.

"Wow, how incredibly nice of you to say as a guest."

"I'm being serious though, you have ten rows of mountain dew and ...one egg carton? You're like the stereotypical college student"

You're focused on finding something to watch instead of paying any mind to Beomgyu's rambles—who really tended to say anything. Like right now, when he pinches your cheek seemingly out of nowhere.

"You're so cute." he coos like you were a newborn baby—it truly felt as if Beomgyu was experiencing effects of anesthesia during the process of you finding a movie. You send him a death glare but that only spurs him on as he whines, "See? That was so cute"

You ignore him, finally making the decision of what movie could start off your move marathon. You nudge his shoulder, tearing his attention from his phone. "Hey, how about this one?"

The good thing about picking Beomgyu for your movie ventures was that you guys had similar tastes.

Romcoms. The classic cliched genre that is filled with the worlds cheesiest tropes.

"Yeah, that's good."

Usually it'd start off with Beomgyu making comments every few minutes, but then they'd die down after the third movie which is exactly why you leave the best movies for last—his yelling would've destroyed your watching experience.

Beomgyu tended to be the one laying his head on the armrest so it didn't take long for his leg to be sprawled on top of your lap—serving as a blanket for you.

You don't mind, focused on the scene playing until the buzz of your phone catches your attention. You hesitantly look at your phone, then Beomgyu, then your phone.

It was like an established rule to be off phones when Move Sundays was in motion, it's just that nobody had decided to say it aloud. But the whines that would come from one person when the other was busy on their phone during a movie served as enough reminder that using your phone was frowned upon.

But you couldn't help it. You've been expecting a call from Soobin for the past week, the day you got his number long over. Any notification from your phone tempted you. Foolishly you'd think it was finally Soobin, but that was never the case.

You were starting to believe that he didn't straight up reject you because of his politeness—which really just felt like shit. Were you seriously that pitiful?

Those thoughts dissipate into nothingness when you see the text notification on your lock screen. Texts from someone you've been readily expecting for the entire week.

[soobin, now]: hi :)

[soobin, now]: sorry for not calling or texting you i was just...

When you click on the notification, you expect to see that the end of the text is 'busy' or something of the sort but instead it's...nervous.

Sorry for not texting you I was just nervous? Why would he be nervous?

You can't help but snort, the ends of your lips curling up at the text.

Before you could quickly come up with a response, Beomgyu's face is right next to yours, narrowing his eyes at your phone screen.

"Who're you texting?"

"Fuck!" you shout, instinctively throwing your phone in shock. Thankfully, the phone lands on a chair instead of the floor, and your breathing is back.

You snap your head to Beomgyu to give him a piece of your mind but then... you remember you technically were the one breaking the unsaid rules of Movie Sundays. You collect your anger, sighing before you hold up a tight lipped smile, "It was an emergency."

When he quirks an eyebrow, you further continue to add onto your lie as you go to get your phone. "My grandpa got a heart attack, it's insane."

He rolls his eyes. "You have a grandpa named Soobin?"

Of course he was fast enough to read the contact name.

"Why'd you even ask if you knew?" you ask, sitting on the couch with your phone in hand.

He ignores your question, eyes focused on the TV. "Just put your phone away, you can text him back later."

You give him a look before shutting off your phone and crossing your arms as you tune back into the movie. Or at least somewhat. You're not sure what's up with Beomgyu and the mention of Soobin—at first, you think it's because they had a fight, but you saw them hanging out just fine the other day.

It was weird, but you shake your head out of your own thoughts, dismissing the boy's crankiness as something you really just made up in your head.

That is, until you decide to check your phone again while he goes through a catalog of movies.

"Are you guys dating?"

The sudden question paired with a dry laugh of his own makes you furrow your eyebrows, clicking on your phone to close it. "Hey, what's your problem?"

"What do you mean what's my problem? I don't have any problems."

You roll your eyes, groaning a little. "Did you guys fight or something?"

"No."

You peer at him for a second, urging him to add something more. It works, as his eyes look at you for a second before going back to the TV. He shrugs, "I don't know, it's just weird."

"What is?"

"You getting close to Soobin."

You're even more confused now...wouldn't someone want their best friends to get along? And be friends?

"I don't get it..." you mumble, still looking at him as he avoids any sort of eye contact. "How's that weird?"

He sighs, shoulders slumping. "He likes you."

When you don't respond, he continues, feeling his mouth dry the more he says it, "Like, like-likes you. He says it's love at first sight."

Ever since his best friend had personally confided in him that he might have the biggest crush on his other best friend, A.K.A the love of his life, Beomgyu had done everything in his power to keep you from formally meeting the blonde. Which included a lot of running and a lot of excuses he had to keep up with.

One, because Soobin was totally your type—Beomgyu would know. Two, because he doesn't think he can survive you falling in love with his best friend. It'd be the ultimate awkward situation. Third wheeling would be his daily routine, and it sends him shuddering at the thought.

You laugh, still trying to piece the information together. "What? Wait. How—why is that weird? I mean, okay. He likes me, so what?"

Beomgyu snaps his head to you, almost as if to tell you 'you should know why!' but he quickly controls his facial expressions because you don't know why. Instead he just opts to pout as he tries to explain. "It's weird because—because, like...um..."

"You're—you're going to hurt his feelings just because of a stupid challenge, that's very cruel Y/N." he says, childishly crossing his arms.

"I'm not going to hurt him...you know I'd never do that!"

"Well, you don't feel the same way he does. It'd be like you're leading him on."

"I mean...I can feel the same way he does, if time allows. I think he's pretty cool, seriously." You try to reassure him, but it has the opposite effect. Beomgyu's eyes droop, almost resembling one of a puppy as he looks up at you.

"You—you like him?"

"I said I think he's cool dummy. And that I think I can learn to like him."

"That's not how liking people works."

You barely control the urge to roll your eyes as your phone was above your face, scrolling through your social media mindlessly. "Sure it does. Taking the time to know someone is basically learning to like them."

It's silent as Beomgyu finally picks a movie, the familiar soundtrack giving you the hint that it's West Side Story.

"Well, maybe you could learn to like me too." It was barely audible over the movie playing but you still heard it, the quiet mumble from Beomgyu, concealed with a slight pout.

Your mouth parts a little snapping your attention from your phone to the brunette next to you, "Huh?"

"Huh?" he returns your gaze with wide eyes, fauxing innocence.

"Beomgyu, you just said something. Say it again." You sit up straight, your posture a little more fixed.

"I didn't say anything, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Beomgyu!" you yell flailing your arms around, with your brows furrowed, and that makes him jump a little, flinching. "Repeat what you said!"

"No!"

You pull out the pillow behind you and threaten to hit him by raising it over his head which gets him talking. "Okay! Okay, hold on!"

"First, put that down!" he yells dramatically referring to the pillow—arm shielding his face.

You reluctantly oblige, slowly lowering your pillow.

When both of your breathing starts to steady, Beomgyu speaks up. "This is not how I planned on telling you—"

"Just say it Beomgyu."

"Okay, look—" he takes a deep breath in, "Imagine there's a totally different dimension. You've known this friend for five years or so—"

"So... you."

"Not me! Just, just imagine someone else." you roll your eyes, trying your hardest to keep your urge to smile down, you've watched enough romcoms to know where this was going.

He continues. "And that friend tells you that 'haha, I'm totally in love with you'. How would you respond? Like, rhetorically."

You sigh, deciding to go along with him. "Rhetorically..." his ears perk up, you could either crush his dreams or—

"...I would reject that friend."

"Oh..oh! Oh yeah, totally. That makes sense—"

"Because they're someone else, not you."

It falls quiet as Beomgyu blinks a few times, processing what you just told him. "What?"

You give him a smile before turning to the TV screen, "I like you too."

He also turns to face the TV, lips parted ever so slightly before he just breaks into a smile, biting down on his bottom lip, trying to contain his squeals.

It was so intune with your friendship for both of you to just sit there after confessing your love for the other, watching the movie you've both watched a hundred times before, in silence as the clock almost struck midnight.

It wasn't anything dramatic, just two people silently enjoying the tragic love story between Maria and Tony while snacking.

Beomgyu thinks you don't notice, but your eyes still catch how his fingers slowly 'walked' to yours, nearing them inch by inch and finally holding them. You laugh a little at how how silly it was, and he does too in reaction—contrasting to the scene currently playing, the death of multiple beloved characters finally occuring.

Your eyes lazily look over at your clock, then you smile looking at the boy next to you. "What's your wish? It's almost your birthday," you manage to say, fighting through your sleep.

Beomgyu is also clearly on the same wavelength as his voice is hoarse, barely hearable, "My wish..."

"Kissing you?"

Your smile grows bigger— god, he was so cheesy. "Come here you big baby."

"That's so unsexy... don't call me big baby when I'm about to give you the best french of your life..."

You laugh, hitting his chest lightly. "Okay, okay I promise I won't."

When he nears your face, the movie in the background playing lines you both could recite by heart, he cups your cheeks, breathing a little unsteady, before smiling. "What?" you whisper.

"I don't think this is a dream."

You look into his eyes for second before deciding to go in first, catching his lips with yours. It's like a small peck, soft and slow as your hand find themselves tangled in his hair. You pull away for a second, looking at his lips then his face, "Yeah, I don't think it is either."

ending a/n: you finished!! i didn't do the usual and ask you to reblog in the beginning, but i'll do it here hehe, reblogging [the little sign by the heart button] helps push this fic!

it's like the main thing that helps me out and its what tumblr's algorithm picks up on!! that said, i'd love to hear your thoughts on this, i love writing best friend!gyu ><

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icouldntcareless22 · 3 months

Text

Like Cat and Mouse!

☆ Playlist! ☆

"You seemed to have garnered quite the reputation for you on campus— one that had the word “trouble” following you like a shadow. But when you give Beomgyu an offer he couldn’t possibly turn down in exchange for helping you get your grades back up, how could he refuse? You can’t possibly be that hard to handle, right?"

Beomgyu x fem!reader, ft. Hueningkai

Genre: college au, slowburn (kinda..?), tutor!gyu x rich girl!mc, fluff, angst, smut

Word count: 37.1K

Warnings: mc is a bitch, and maybe a bimbo? gyu wears glasses, and he’s like super super shy, mc gets sick for a scene, she rambles but its part of her character ok!, toxic relationships, pining/unrequited love, Yunjin is so fake here im sorry Yunjin, mentions of alcohol/drinking, the puppy gyu agenda is fucking strong here !!!

Smut warnings: multiple smut scenes first of all, fwb!huening, dom!hyuka, switch!mc, sub!gyu, (the worst case of sub gyu yet), virgin!gyu, breast play, dry humping, biting, pet names (f rec: princess, m rec: puppy, good boy, baby, slut, etc.) mentions of bondage (f. rec.), spanking (f. rec.), degrading, praise, praise kink, finger sucking, oral (f. & m rec.), handjobs, mouth fucking, cum eating (?), explicit, verbal consent is not stated in two scenes but both parties are willing! Semi-public sex, overstimulation, slight thigh riding, marking, hair pulling (m. rec. lol), begging, unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, cockwarming

notes: i don't even know what to say... there's really no reason for this to be so long, how did we get here. i hide my face in shame.

It all starts as an accident— a very inconvenient accident.

Really, it wasn’t your fault; how were you supposed to keep up with these endless assignments that only seemed to get worse as time went on? You had better things to do with your life— studying is way too much of a headache for you these days.

Instead, your days have been filled along the lines of parties and trips your friends hold, gaining connections with people that always help things go next level; Empty vacation homes, yachts, even a private jet once— you were lucky enough to land a friendship with these type of people, the thought of taking things slow and worrying more about your education not crossing your mind anymore once you got a taste of the fast life.

Which is exactly how you got where you are now.

“There goes your man,” Yunjin’s elbow is sharp against your side as she whispers teasingly, the jab only making your frown deepen as you weakly attempt to shake her off.

“Shut up.” That’s all you can manage as you go to lay your head down on the dining hall table, your appetite long gone as your head swims and your stomach twists with nausea; her single jab is enough to remind your body of its terrible shape, your eyes shutting tightly as you fight through the urge to hurl then and there.

You’re not even sure of what she might mean— you don’t remember telling her about any recent hookups— hell, you don’t even remember gawking at anyone in your vicinity; so for her to be teasing you about this “man” of yours was strange, a pout forming on your lips as you try to focus on the cool feeling of the wood beneath your skin.

“I gotta go,” Yunjin says abruptly, your eyes opening to send her a confused look. All she can do is give you an eager smile, patting your head as she grabs her now empty coffee cup from the table. “Your man is coming this way.”

Before you can ask her what man she could possibly be talking about, she’s off, not bothering to look back as she sends you a little wave over her shoulder, perfectly manicured nails glittering under the sunlight that shines through the windows.

The seat in front of yours is quickly filled.

“You weren’t at our study session yesterday.”

Jesus.

There’s not much you can say to that, clearly guilty as you choose to press your forehead against the cool table in response. Maybe, if you close your eyes, he’ll disappear— if only it were that easy. But instead, you’re stuck with Choi Beomgyu and the warm scent of coffee that follows him— god knows how many cups he drank as a substitution for sleep. Your lashes flutter against the table as you attempt to drown out his whines, surprised that he hasn't taken your unresponsiveness as a hint to go away.

“Have you ever gone to Paris?” You ask, the sentence flying from your mouth and interrupting his rambles. It’s enough to shut him up, sitting up as you plant your hands firmly on the table in a weak attempt to not lay your head back down.

“No, I haven’t.”

His response is typical— you didn’t care whether or not he would say yes, leaning into the table as you stare into his eyes; it’s clear he’s flustered by the action, leaning back in reciprocation as his pupils land everywhere but on you.

“If you had the chance to go to Paris right now, would you?” It takes a moment before Beomgyu nods his head hesitantly, mouth opening as he prepares a new line of questioning for you. But you’re quick to cut him off again, clapping your hands in satisfaction as you stand up— his eyes follow your every movement, face resembling a lost puppy as he watches the way you get ready to leave.

“Exactly; Paris really is beautiful by the way, definitely recommend going. So you can’t blame me for ditching our study session yesterday, can you?” Tilting your head, you watch the puzzles connect in his mind. “We can always make it up or whatever, not that big of a deal.”

Turning around, you don’t bother saying goodbye to Beomgyu; your only thoughts center on your beautiful, comfy bed and how you’ll spend the rest of your day in it. You can hear him calling out to you, the sound of a chair scraping against tile catching your attention as you force yourself to walk faster.

“We have class in fifteen minutes— where are you going?!”

He’s gaining up on you. You don’t care if you have to sprint out of the building, but the last thing you’ll do is get stuck in another of Beomgyu’s self-righteous rambles as you curse wildly under your breath.

“Home— I’m sick!”

Carelessly, the exit door is slammed on Beomgyu’s face— by accident, of course. Glancing back, you’re able to catch a glimpse of his pathetic puppy face, clearly discouraged from trying to continue chasing after you.

Normally, one would be compelled to feel guilty— but the day is simply too nice, the weather so perfect as a spring wind brushes past your skin; the sun that slightly worsens your headache truly doesn’t seem that bad anymore.

A perfect day to drive around and shop, in your humble opinion.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

This new purse would be divine in your collection.

The luxury bag in your hands is sleek and smooth as your fingertips glaze over the details, entranced by its chic beauty as you let your thoughts wander— formal events, birthday dinners, oh, the places you could take it…

The price tag is no joke— it has you counting numbers in your head, pondering just how much of your monthly allowance you have left; if you buy it now, you’ll have to say goodbye to the girls’ trip at Yunjin’s beach house in Cancun…

Treat yourself, a tiny voice whispers in your mind, you can always beg your parents for more money.

The devil on your shoulder is compelling— it warps your vision, a pout forming on your face as it practically forces your eyes to see the item in a heavenly light; the last item in that specific collection, and it’s right at your disposal, only a card swipe away…

“Pretty bag,” your little devil hums, “It would look nice with that little black dress you’re always looking for an excuse to wear.”

His hand is delicate and teasing on your shoulder, his hold on you tight as he pulls you into him protectively. You’re not as surprised as you should be as you look up at Hueningkai, pouting face innocently looking up at him as you shake your head in distress.

“I shouldn’t. I’m supposed to go with Yunjin to Cancun during spring break,” you whine, petulant as always as you refuse his reasoning— yet also refuse to let go of the bag and walk away.

Anyone who knows you knows how you get about accessories— how obsessive you become with collecting them, your closet always filled to the brim as your need to buy becomes a borderline addiction.

Maybe that’s why Hueningkai finds your dilemma so amusing, deft fingers snatching the purse from your hands and walking away wordlessly, leaving you to trot behind him as you continue to rant and stall, lingering by his side as a new item catches your eye; you inspect it curiously while the words uncontrollably fly out of your mouth.

“I mean it’s not like I don’t have enough money, cause I could always ask my parents for more— and they’d gladly give it to me— but I always feel so horrible to ask for more, especially now that I’m supposed to be getting more independent, even though they always talk about spoiling me because I’m their only daughter, but still, I really want it but if I buy it I’ll have to ask them for more money, and it’s not even a big deal but it feels—“

“Oh my god, okay!” It seems you were too distracted by the tweed Chanel bag in your hands to anticipate the shopping bag that Hueningkai thrusts into your hands, exasperated at your ramblings as he swiftly manages to shut you up.

You’re left speechless, sorting through the filling paper dumbly as you’re greeted with the same bag that Hueningkai snatched from you— your sparkly eyes look up at him in awe, unsure of what to say as he simply smiles at your reaction.

“Huening…” you pout, clutching the bag to your chest with one hand as you slap his chest with the other— his very firm, strong chest… “you shouldn’t have.”

He’s quick to wrap an arm around your waist, pulling you into him and guiding you out of the store as he leans into you; you can smell his cologne so perfectly, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers softly into it.

“It’s okay,” he smiles, endeared by the way your eyes shine with anticipation to his words, “I know of a few ways you can make it up to me.”

There’s no need to call your driver— Hueningkai knows the way to your apartment like the back of his hand, one relaxed at the steering wheel while the other plays with the hem of those skirts you always like to wear.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

“You’re such a tease,” Hueningkai’s lips are plump and bitten at as you smile against them, his hands never straying from your ass as he grasps at it, enjoying the way you grind against him expertly.

“Just wanna make you feel good,” you pant, the warm feeling of his hands on your tight-clad thighs making you whine, your pussy slotted perfectly against him as you feel the way he grows harder underneath you.

“You’re always so good to me…” you trail off the moment his lips begin to wander down your neck, attempting to pull off your thin sweater as his hands immediately find themselves on your breasts. He can only let out a breathy laugh at your words, his teeth sinking in the plump flesh softly before his fingers are working your bra off.

“Always buying you your favorite things?” He rasps, groaning softly at the sight of your breasts, fingers playing with your nipples as he looks up at you teasingly, “my princess will do anything for a pretty purse, hmm?”

Frantically, you nod, his hips bucking into you as you feel the way his cock presses against you effortlessly; he’s as eager as you are, warm tongue on your skin making your thoughts run wild as you imagine what it would feel like to have him pressed against your cunt, helpless to your needs as your fingers card through his hair.

“Come on pretty girl, show me how grateful you are,” your thoughts are immediately dispelled as Hueningkai pushes you off, a gentle hand pushing away your hair before he’s guiding you down to your knees; his favorite sight, your doe eyes fluttering at him innocently as your hands make quick work of his belt. He can’t help but groan at the sight before him, lip caught in his teeth as he silently wishes for you to hurry.

Hueningkai takes the belt from your hands, placing it to the side as he smiles down at you coyly— you can feel your stomach flip in anticipation, your mind going back to the many memories of your face pressed into the mattress as your bound hands desperately begged to touch him. Your fingers are delicate as they pull down his zipper— he’s become impatient, lips parting as he gets ready to make a witty comment.

His thoughts are interrupted by a persistent ringing of your doorbell.

He’s devastated as he flops back into your mattress— a loud groan escapes him, brows furrowing as he grows irritated at the ringing that echoes throughout your apartment.

“Jesus, what the fuck is their problem?” He complains, running a hand through his hair before he sits back up; he’s smiling fondly at you as he caresses your cheek, sighing softly as he nods his head towards the door, “go see who it is, won’t you princess? Make it quick.”

The look that you two share is nothing but mischievous, his lips connecting with yours in a chaste kiss as he helps you up; he’s tugging your sweater roughly over your chest, straightening your skirt before he’s sending you off— not without one last feel of you, the stinging sensation that lingers on your ass making you yelp as you send him a playful glare— he can only send you a sly look in return.

This better be important, you can’t help but think, sighing heavily as another three persistent rings of your doorbell echo throughout— you groan, rolling your eyes as you swing the door open wildly.

You can’t say you’re surprised as Beomgyu stares back at you in shock, his wide eyes blinking rapidly as he takes you in.

“What.” Your tone is unwelcoming as you lean against your doorframe, arms crossing to cover your chest as you raise a brow at him in anticipation— he stutters uselessly, pushing up his glasses as his eyes fly about your apartment wildly— refusing to look at you for more than a second.

“You didn’t answer my messages,” or calls, he whispers weakly, tugging at the hem of his sweater as he stares down at his dirtied shoes, his other arm hidden behind his back. He clears his throat, gulping as he looks into your eyes, pushing past the annoyed look that greets him as he continues, “You didn’t look well this morning, so I wanted to check up on you.”

You’re not sure what to say as Beomgyu whips out what was hidden behind his back—you’re leaning back as you stare at the cute, floral lunch bag that Beomgyu thrusts into your face, hesitantly taking it as you look back at Beomgyu in confusion; it feels warm in your arms.

“It’s soup.” He says, his ears reddening as he takes in the bewildered way you’re staring at him, “It’s my mom's recipe, it’s— it’s really good.”

“Yeah? We’ll be the judge of that,” Hueningkai has snuck up behind you as he wraps an arm around your waist, effectively pushing you back against him— you can feel how hard he is against the swell of your ass, eyes widening as you get what he’s hinting at, impatient fingers digging into your skin softly.

Beomgyu seems just as surprised as you are at Hueningkai’s appearance, if not more. It becomes your turn to become embarrassed as you look over your shoulder to meet Hueningkai’s smug smile, his eyes glistening with curiosity as he looks back at Beomgyu, tilting his head as he frowns.

“Who are you anyway?”

Beomgyu seems quite offended by his statement, looking at you in shock. You’re scrambling to cut Hueningkai off, letting out a soft laugh as you place a firm hand on his chest— the last thing you need is for Hueningkai to drive away one of the few people that would be willing to tutor you.

“He’s just helping me out in some classes, that’s all,” you say, placing the lunch bag in his hands before you’re shooing him away, “Put this on the kitchen counter— I’ll see you in a bit.”

Beomgyu doesn’t miss the look the two of you share— if anything, it makes his stomach twist in embarrassment, wanting to do nothing more than turn around and pretend as though he hadn’t interrupted you while you were— whatever it was. Hueningkai is cheery as he walks back into your apartment, not bothering to spare Beomgyu another glance as he disappears from your sight; your clearing throat is what gets Beomgyu’s mind back on track.

“Right. Well,” you say, smiling awkwardly as you reach out for the door, “I’m feeling better. Thanks though!”

Beomgyu is unable to get out another word as you’re closing the door on him, sneaking in a last comment as you cheerily yell “tell your mom I said thank you!” Uncaring of his reaction as the door shuts in his face; he suddenly thinks back to this morning, shuddering at the memory of him having to walk back to the other exit of the dining hall, towards the building his classes were in— your shared class, specifically— forced to ignore the strange looks everyone gave him as he stared straight at the ground.

“Isn’t he younger than us? Why was he talking to me like that,” he quietly pouts, his protests left unheard as he’s forced to walk back home, eyes glued to the sidewalk in dismay— the feeling is dreadfully familiar.

“Well that’s sad,” Hueningkai remarks, peeking through your blinds as he watches Beomgyu’s figure grow smaller, “Are you actually gonna eat that?”

His eyes flick back to the lunch bag that sits innocently at your counter—you simply shrug, feeling oddly protective of the item as you tuck it behind you, leaning against the counter as you sigh softly.

“His mom made it, I’d feel bad if I didn’t,” you say, biting at your lips as you watch the way Hueningkai laughs in disbelief. You feel a bit bad as you think back to the way you turned him away, his expression pitiful and sad as you slammed the door on his face for the second time today. Yet you don’t get much time to think about it as Hueningkai begins to approach you, hands effortlessly finding themselves on your waist as your head tilts to meet his lips in a sweet, slow kiss.

“Can’t believe he interrupted us for so long,” you feel him smile against your lips as he presses you back against the counter, ready to hike your skirt up as his other hand is eagerly wrapping your leg around his waist, “will you make it up to me?”

Beomgyu disappears from your mind like smoke— the smile against your lips is contagious, your hand gently pressing against his chest as you roll your hips teasingly into his, a broken moan falling from both your lips.

“Of course.“

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

The rest of the day is quite underwhelming.

You’ve been left with a good fuck and a nice purse, but as you lay in your bed, you can’t help but notice the way your headache never really left— it’s been nothing but a dull ache until now, the pain persistent and growing as you sigh in exasperation; none of your usual remedies have worked for you so far.

Your body feels hot and weak, yet you’re left shivering as the blankets keep endlessly stacking on top of you. Not even your weighted blanket can lull you to sleep, your figure restless as you toss and turn in your bed, your phone buried in your puzzle of fabric. You’re in nothing but pain— you hate feeling like this, and the sudden grumbling of your stomach truly isn’t helping either.

Left with no other options, you trudge to the kitchen, opening your fridge as you mentally brace yourself— it’s been a while since you’ve shopped for groceries; there’s not much in there that you could eat quickly, and you can’t find any energy within you to cook.

The cool fridge door is welcoming against your skin— yet it’s also bothersome as you begin to shiver at the cold, closing the fridge quickly as you frown to yourself; whatever your body has come down with, it sure is annoying. Taking a moment to think, you suddenly find your eyes gravitating to a certain item; ergo, the floral lunch bag that remains untouched on your counter.

It hasn’t been that long— an hour or two, at most. Whatever Beomgyu gave you couldn’t have spoiled by now, right?

It’s soup, you recall him saying, biting your lip as you take the lunch bag to your small table, my mom's recipe.

Unpacking the contents, you hum in surprise— yeah, this looks like a mothers cooking. The Tupperware he’s provided you with is filled to the brim with a nice broth that is still warm to the touch, a side of rice and vegetables also packed inside for you; you’re unable to stop a small awe from escaping you as you take out a small container of tea that has been stored inside for you as well, surprised at how much Beomgyu’s mother packed for you.

Does she think we’re friends? Is this her way of making me stick with him? You wonder, biting at your lip as you hold back a laugh at the thought— a poor momma’s boy, struggling to make friends as his mother attempts to subtly help him.

It’s no secret that Beomgyu was a bit of a loner— that’s why you reached out to him in the first place. You knew he wouldn’t be able to refuse you, because he couldn’t even give you the excuse that he had no time; that, and the hefty sum you gave him in exchange for tutoring someone as difficult as you.

To a degree, you were self-aware— but it only came after the fifth person rejected your offer, saying that you probably wouldn’t even commit once you started. No matter how pissed you were when you were first told that, you were unable to disagree; unfortunately, it also sparked a deep spiraling of self-reflection as your new self-awareness brought you to Beomgyu; by then you were so desperate and ashamed that Beomgyu probably only accepted because he felt bad.

Tutoring with Beomgyu had its benefits; he was nice, and quite the pushover as well. He never protested too much when you canceled on him, and the most you ever got from being annoying was a long scolding or an exasperated sigh from him— plus, now it seems that free food has been thrown into the mix.

Settling down at the table, you found yourself oddly restless as you went to fetch a small blanket from your bed— it was only then that you were able to find your phone, gasping as it landed roughly on the floor. Going back to the kitchen, you were now able to make yourself comfortable, sitting at your table as you took off the lids of everything that was packed for you— even the tea was still nice and warm in its thermos, everything packed with such care and attention to detail that you couldn’t help but take a picture of it.

It was delicious as well; the soup was comforting and not too overwhelming on your senses as you mixed in bites of the white rice, fluffy and cooked to perfection as you melted in your seat with every spoonful. The vegetables were steamed and well seasoned; you practically squealed from happiness as you ate, not used to having such a big meal cooked by someone else these days.

It filled you up quickly— the ginger tea was soothing against your throat, the taste of honey and lime mixed in leaving you warm and fuzzy as you tiredly trudged to bed; you’d have to beg Beomgyu to invite you to his mother’s house later.

Maybe it did work, you briefly think to yourself, your mind quickly emptying as you make yourself comfortable in your bed, that only made me want to talk to Beomgyu more— maybe it wouldn’t be too bad being his friend.

A soft laugh escapes you at the thought— your eyelids feel heavy as you struggle to stay awake, eager to sleep through this brief sickness that threatens to overtake you. After this, you’re sure it’ll be an easy recovery.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

You think you’re dying.

You’re hot and sweaty as you kick away your blankets for the umpteenth time, irritated as your body quickly begins to shiver instead. You’re only able to sleep for a few hours at a time, on the verge of tears as the clock on your bedside table reads nine pm— you’re unsure of what to do, already taking medication a few hours ago that seemed to do nothing. Your body is burning up as you toss and turn a bit more, dreading the new train of thought that enters your mind.

Maybe you should call someone.

Maybe they’ll know what to do, you think, holding back nausea that threatens to knock you out as you slowly sit up; scrolling through your contacts, you hesitantly press call to the first person you could think of.

It rings once— then again, then a few times more before it goes straight to voicemail.

“Hey, you’ve reached Yunjin’s voicemail. Please leave a messa—“ you sigh as you hang up, attempting to call a few times more before you give up entirely.

She’s probably at a party. Or with some boy.

Scrolling through your contacts, you choose your next person carefully— you’re sure they’re not busy right now, they’ve never been one to go to parties as often—

Ning Ning’s phone goes straight to voicemail as well.

Groaning, you lay back as you feel your head pounding, your mind racing as you attempt to go through a mental checklist of who you could call— but all you can conclude is that they’re busy, wouldn’t want to help, or you’re simply not that close to them.

“What the hell,” you mumble, pressing your face against your pillow as you sniffle softly— your headache has become unbearable, and you’ve always been a big crybaby whenever you got sick.

“Do I not have any friends?” You ponder, your stomach sinking at the thought— there’s no way! If anything, your phone was always on silent from the number of notifications you got in a day; you always knew at least ten people when you walked in a room, the elite definition of a social butterfly— the last thing you would consider yourself is friendless.

Maybe it’s just an unlucky time, you think, playing Russian roulette with your contacts as your finger presses on a random one; Hueningkai <;3 glares back at you in bright letters, your eyes narrowing as you consider calling— he’s always been one to spoil you, so it wouldn’t be too far-fetched for him to help you this once, right?

You’re nervous as the phone rings out into your room, your fingers tapping on your bed impatiently as you wait for him to pick up— just when you think he won’t, his voice greets your ears like a miracle.

“Hey baby, what’s up?” His voice is a bit rough as he speaks, his speech slow and relaxed as your eyes narrow at the sound; he’s probably high again.

“Hueningkai,” you cry out softly, unable to help the way you become emotional in your state— your voice is muffled, your face buried in your pillow as the pain becomes far too overwhelming.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” His voice has become more alert at the sound of your sniffling, the sounds of rustling from his side making you wince, your hand going to lower the volume of your phone.

“Dunno. I’m sick,” you say, flipping over onto your back as you stare up at the ceiling— you feel tired, yet you’re unable to get comfortable enough to sleep. You hear more rustling on the other side of the phone— Hueningkai sighs, mumbling something to himself before he clears his throat.

“Why don’t you go to the doctor, hmm?” You frown at his words, shaking your head at the thought— you weren’t really expecting this outcome.

“I— I can’t really get up, I feel dizzy…” you confess sheepishly, the realization that you truly don’t have enough energy to even stand for too long weighing down on you, “I was wondering if you could come over?”

“Come over?” Hueningkai echoes, humming softly at the thought— it’s silent, the tension leaving you biting at your lips as you wait for him to respond.

“Listen, uhm,” you sigh softly at his words, closing your eyes as you attempt to ignore the way your stomach dips with disappointment, “I’m kinda busy right now. But if you want, you can call me tomorrow and I can take you to the doctor, ‘kay?”

Attempting to swallow down your disappointment, you nod, a moment of silence passing before you realize that he can’t even see you.

“Yeah. Okay.” There’s a lump in your throat as you speak, and you can’t help but feel the way your body heats up as the line falls silent; from embarrassment, this time. It’s awkward, but you can’t bring yourself to care as Hueningkai mumbles a soft “okay then. Goodnight,” the sound of him hanging up the last thing you hear before you’re shrouded in complete silence, the darkness of your room threatening to swallow you whole.

The sound of your stomach growling angrily is the only thing that breaks the silence.

A frustrated groan tears through you— you’re oddly emotional as you force yourself to sit up, pausing as you attempt to maintain balance; your head is spinning, and you’re beginning to realize how long it’s been since you last ate. The floor is cold under your feet as you trudge to the kitchen; you can’t bring yourself to turn on the lights, your slippers lost somewhere in your room as you feel a shiver wrack through your body.

What will you do? Your fridge is practically empty and takeout doesn’t sound too appealing to you; you can feel tears well up in your eyes once more, a pout forming on your face as you slump down on a chair in defeat. Sighing, you think back to earlier— the homemade food Beomgyu brought to you, so soothing and filling it almost reminded you of the meals your cook back at home would make for you— maybe you could call your driver to take you home for a bit.

It’s hours away and he’s probably off right now, you frown, checking the time on your phone just in case— 9:45— yeah, he’s definitely home by now. Of course, nothing is stopping you from calling him and telling him it’s an emergency, but then you’d feel far too guilty about ripping him away from his family just for you.

He spends enough time at our home as it is, you think, placing your phone on the table as you go to massage your temples weakly. You need to eat something— maybe you’ll get some energy from it. But, picky as always, you can’t seem to find anything that sounds appealing to you; even the restaurant you frequently eat at doesn't seem to be doing anything for you, your mind inevitably going back to the one thing you were avoiding.

Hesitantly, you pick up your phone— you can’t believe you’re actually going to try this, you think, biting at your lip before you finally press call; then again, this isn’t entirely out of character for you.

A lonely college student that doesn’t have many friends— if anything, he’s probably up studying right now, you think, frowning as you press your phone firmly to your ear, and if he was willing to check up on me, he should be willing to do this small thing for me too.

“Hello?” The relief that floods through you is surprising; you’re becoming lax against your seat as the sound of Beomgyu’s uncertain voice meets your ears— his voice is gruff and soft as he speaks, unsure of whether or not you called him on purpose.

“Choi Beomgyu,” you whine, already feeling yourself becoming unnecessarily emotional as you allow yourself to rant to him, “I’m sick. Can you do me a small favor?”

On his end, Beomgyu is oddly surprised— why would you go to him of all people? He’s a bit weary as he listens to you carefully, thinking back to the way you were able to shut him out effortlessly; if anything, he must’ve been your last resort.

“What is it?”

You’re unable to hold back the sigh of relief that escapes you— a smile graces your lips, and for the first time during this miserable experience, you don’t feel helpless.

“Okay, hear me out please,” you start, sitting up as you clear your throat; unbeknownst to Beomgyu, you’re about to begin one of your infamous ramblings.

“I know you might be busy studying or whatever, but I promise I’ll be quick. So, you remember the food you gave me earlier? I actually ate it, and it was really good! Your mom is a good cook, but then again, I’m pretty sure all moms are pretty good cooks. But like, I’m gonna be honest with you, I forgot to get groceries earlier this week, so I don’t really have much to eat— I could go order takeout or something but the thought of eating something greasy right now makes me wanna puke. I was thinking that since you probably don’t go out that much your mom might have given you extra servings of that soup, and I know it sounds really entitled and a bit bitchy but do you think you could please please please drop some off?

“I promise I’ll pay you whatever and you seriously only need to drop it off at my door, it’s just that her cooking was really good and I almost started crying when I ate it— I get really emotional when I’m sick so I also think it’d be best for you to leave as quickly as you can; please please please please I promise I won’t ditch our study sessions for a good week at least, I’ll be good and study! I just think I’m gonna pass out right now and your mom’s food is the only thing I can think of right now… please?”

You feel out of breath as you finally finish your seemingly endless ramble— on the other side of the line, Beomgyu lets out an exasperated laugh.

“Yeah. Okay. I’ll be there.” You’re not sure when you began to get emotional over nothing, but you’re surprised to feel hot tears streaming down your face at Beomgyu’s words, a few hiccups escaping you as you let out a soft really? “Yeah, I’ll just leave it at your doorstep.”

Standing up, you stumble a bit as you wipe your tears away. If you hadn’t scared Beomgyu away before, you surely did now.

“Drop it off inside. My door’s gonna be unlocked.”

There’s an odd pause after you say that; you’re about to question what happened before you hear rustling on his side of the phone, Beomgyu’s soft hum the last thing you hear before he lets out a soft “okay. I’ll be there.” You’re unable to thank him as he’s quick to hang up— and the exhaustion that has been building up inside you all day is suddenly released, the promise of food making your brain at ease as you slowly make your way over to the couch.

You’re so tired— a small nap wouldn’t hurt, right? It would be nice to wake up to the sight of food at my doorstep, you think, a small smile easing onto your face as you find yourself curling up at the end of your couch; oh, you really can’t help yourself— your eyelids are becoming excruciatingly heavy.

For the umpteenth time today, you allow yourself to sleep— even if it’ll only last twenty minutes at most.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Beomgyu is a little off-put as he peeks inside your apartment.

He feels odd, extremely guilty, and a bit shameful as he pops his head inside, all of his calls have gone to voicemail as he chose the next best option— you did say your door was unlocked, after all.

He expected you to be scolding him for taking so long after forty minutes had passed, but he found himself pleasantly surprised (and somewhat worried) when his phone remained entirely unbothered; so now here he stands, multiple heavy bags filled with ingredients in his hands as he kicks off his shoes clumsily.

He finds you fast asleep on the couch; he’s extremely concerned at how trusting you are, but he decides to chalk it up to the fact that your skin is burning hot to the touch and you’re probably not thinking straight— Beomgyu is quick to pull his palm away from your forehead the moment you stir even slightly, jolting into action as he flees into your kitchen instead.

Placing the bags on your table, he looks back at you in worry— all he can do for now is wet a few paper towels, wringing out as much water as he can before he’s making his way to you cautiously; you’re burning up and sweaty as he dabs the towel on your skin, tutting softly as he finally places the towel on your forehead.

“I knew you weren’t feeling well,” he scolds you softly, pulling the blanket that has fallen off your shoulders back on you carefully before he’s pulling away, rolling his eyes at the sight, “you’re lucky you practically pay my bills.”

Quietly, Beomgyu gets to work— he feels a bit bad for rummaging through your kitchen so boldly, but he’s sure you wouldn’t really mind if you woke up; you’re the one who invited him in the first place.

At some point, Beomgyu finds himself quite comfortable in your kitchen— it’s quite spacious and allows him to get lost deep in his thoughts; he gets so comfortable, in fact, that he’s unable to pick up on the fact that you’re wide awake and slowly trudging your way to him.

“Choi Beomgyu,” the sound of your voice is enough for him to practically jump out of his skin, narrowly missing his finger as he hurriedly drops the knife in his hands, spinning around wildly as he presses himself tightly against the counter— your tired and puffy face is eerily close to his as your lidded eyes stare up at him, still heavy with sleep as you frown softly.

“What,” you mumble softly, taking in his flustered expression before your eyes are wandering to the mess behind him— the cutting board of vegetables, the stovetop that is busy with two pots simmering away, a familiar aroma filling your apartment; your eyes flick back to the way he seems both guilty and embarrassed, your head tilting as he watches you slowly piece everything together, “what is all this? Where’s your mom's food?”

Well, maybe not.

Beomgyu sighs— the sight of him shaking his head in dismay is enough to have your eyes widening with surprise, watching as he slowly turns his back to you; the constant rhythm of him cutting vegetables is the only sound that fills the room, and it seems that Beomgyu won’t be answering your question any time soon; you’re ready to protest and annoy him until he talks, but it seems he’s quick to beat you to it.

“My mom wasn’t the one who made it,” he sighs, putting his knife down as he quickly goes to the pot of soup to give it a mix; your eyes are fluttering shut at the smell, a small smile gracing your lips as you fight the urge to have a taste then and there; but you’re snapped back to reality from his words, stammering as you look at him in confusion.

“But— you said it was—“

“My mother's recipe,” he draws out, dropping the seasoned vegetables into a third pot as you watch them get steamed, “I’m the one who made the food.”

You think back to the floral lunch bag he handed to you hours earlier; how he seemed so hesitant to give it to you, oddly pouty as he watched the way you were quick to hand it to someone else— you feel yourself become embarrassed by your behavior, oddly defensive as you remember how much you begged for him to give you another taste.

“Oh. Okay,” you say, clearing your throat as you slump back down on a chair— you found it entirely too exhausting to be standing for that long, “it was the next best thing for me anyway— my driver is off right now so I have no one to take me anywhere.”

“I see you’re feeling better,” Beomgyu mumbles, rolling his eyes at your actions as your usual bratty self resurfaces; he almost found your delirious, emotional self from earlier more welcoming than this, forced to listen to more of your ramblings as you watch him cook.

“No. Not at all actually,” you complain, the ache in your body suddenly much more noticeable than it was a few minutes ago as you cross your legs on the chair; you’re huddled up in your blanket again, staring at his back as you practically take out your pain on him, “my head feels like its gonna explode— my body’s so fucking hot but I can’t take this blanket off or else I’ll feel like I’m freezing my ass off. I don’t know what to do because I never get sick like this; if anything, I should’ve called our family doctor instead of you.”

You feel a bit bad as the words come out sharper than you intended— Beomgyu is easy to read as he flinches at your statement, head ducked down and an awkward silence permeating the room as he says nothing in response.

“…you’re lucky your mom taught you how to cook,” you backtrack, your voice oddly soft as you press your lips together; you refuse to say anything more as you curl up tightly on the chair, laying your head down on the table as you attempt to let your blanket shield you from the world— you’re back to your unpredictable, emotional self as you feel a lump forming in your throat, a feeling of longing forming inside you as you wish you were home instead of here, pestering your poor tutor in exchange for a hefty sum of money.

“Hey,” his voice is much closer than you expected it to be as you peek up from your small fortress, raising a brow as you stare at the glass of water and pills in his hand, “take this. I’m guessing you haven’t taken any medication for your fever in a while.”

A soft ‘hmph’ is all that leaves you as you reluctantly accept the medicine (because the truth was that he was right). It isn’t until he shows you what he’s giving you as you take the pills begrudgingly; you hate that he can see through you so easily. Chugging down the glass of water, you fail to notice how he waits beside you patiently, sending him a petulant look as you wait for him to say something— instead, he raises a small thermometer to your forehead, taking your temperature as he lets out a soft tsk.

“Your temperature is way too high. Eat, then go back to sleep,” he says, only leaving your side to get you a proper serving of soup; it’s the same meal you had earlier, but you’re oddly excited as you notice the hefty amount of rice he gave you, a new side of him peeking through as he watches you carefully— it’s only when you send him a questioning look that he becomes red in the face, clearing his throat awkwardly as he points back to the mess behind him.

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of it,” he mumbles, not bothering to look you in the eyes as he quietly begins to take care of the dishes.

“I wasn’t going to,” you remark, your mouth still full of rice as you scoff softly at his excuse— you find yourself oddly annoyed with him as you take in just how much he’s doing for you, unable to fathom anyone else doing all this for you, unprovoked.

He must really need the money, you reason with yourself, unsure of why else he would do such a thing— you roll your eyes at the thought, any intimacy that might have come from all this dissolving into thin air as you become oddly irritated with him.

But you will admit, this soup really hits the spot.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

You’re out like a light moments after.

If Beomgyu said he was surprised, it would definitely be a lie; you were barely awake on your couch for more than five minutes, and by the time Beomgyu finishes cleaning up and putting away the leftover ingredients in your fridge (which was criminally empty for someone who had so much money) you’re already curled back up in your corner of the couch, your temperature only having gone down slightly as you begin to toss and turn in your sleep.

The wet paper towels that Beomgyu had placed on you earlier are folded neatly on your coffee table— Beomgyu huffs softly as he discards it, wetting some more before he’s placing it carefully on your forehead; he’s unsure of what else to do now, standing back awkwardly as he considers staying to watch over you— your condition seemed pretty serious from how high your temperature was, and it certainly didn’t help that you straight up rammed into the kitchen table and injured your shin from how unstable you were.

And that’s when you became a crybaby once more.

He can still see the lingering tears that cling to your lashes, a soft pout forming on your lips as you shiver slightly at the touch of the cool towel. What to do, he ponders, sitting on the couch opposite to you as he watches over you carefully, he’s not sure if there’s anyone else that could take care of you.

Hell, the fact that he’s here of all people is enough to prove that to him; but also, he should really be studying for that upcoming physics exam that has been concerning him a bit. He glances back at you— calm, undisturbed, only shifting every once in a while as you tuck yourself deeper into the blanket you wrapped tightly around yourself— and he sighs, finding himself oddly torn as he wonders whether he should leave you or not.

He could go back home and study, but he knows that he wouldn’t get very far, thoughts of you and your condition plaguing his mind as he desperately tried to focus. His thoughts are disrupted as you groan softly in discomfort, shifting restlessly on the couch before your eyes are fluttering open, locking with his instantly.

“You’re still here,” you murmur, squinting at him as you cough softly, “thought you’d be gone by now.”

Beomgyu doesn’t like the way you’re looking at him; it’s oddly condescending as he finds himself standing up instantly, clearing his throat as he looks away from you and your searing gaze.

“Yeah,” he says, feeling strangely flustered as he makes his way to the front door; your eyes follow him the whole way there, and he feels so small under your gaze as he goes to slip his coat on. “I was just leaving.”

“Oh. ‘kay,” you shrug, shifting restlessly on the couch before you’re turning your back to him, curled into a ball as you wave at him weakly, “I’ll Venmo you later.”

He can’t help but feel bristled at your careless attitude, still not used to the way you’re always ready to spend money at the drop of a hat despite tutoring you for weeks now. Tying his shoes, he can’t help but glance at you one last time; it pains him to admit he’s slightly worried for you, but the rational part of him tells him it’s just because he doesn’t want you calling him to come back the moment you’re feeling nauseous again.

Yet you remain still, resembling a rock as your figure is hidden under countless piles of blankets— judging by the steady rise and fall of it, he figures you already fell back asleep.

It takes Beomgyu an embarrassingly long time to leave— but only because he wanted to make sure you wouldn’t wake up spontaneously and start whining, of course— you remain dead to the world the whole time he watches over you.

By the time Beomgyu finally makes it out of your doorway, he feels more frustrated than anything. Because even once he gets home to study, he can’t help but keep his phone close-by, worried that you’ll call out of the blue asking for help.

His phone remains silent all night.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

The next time Beomgyu sees you, he’s reminded as to why you had so many difficulties getting a tutor.

You’re flashy and perfect as always as you stand in the doorway of his apartment, arms crossed and eyes no-doubt narrowed behind your expensive designer shades. Your foot is tapping impatiently at the concrete outside as you tilt your head in annoyance— Beomgyu had made the mistake to ignore the first few rings of his doorbell, much too distracted by his game to remember that it would be you waiting for him.

“So? You gonna let me in, or do you need to tidy up first?” Beeomgyu’s mantra consists of how short your lesson will be today and the paycheck he’ll get out of it— one of the perks of you being desperate was that Beomgyu got to raise his rates shamelessly— and it takes Beomgyu a second to push past your intimidating and prickly demeanor to nod his head and step aside, watching as you push your shades up and secure them on your head.

It takes you a second to slip out of your shoes as you daintily put them aside, and Beomgyu can feel his ears become hot as he watches the way you wince slightly at the pair of guest slippers he hands you— though he tries to tell himself you don’t mean to be like this, a soothing lie that lets him lead you to his living room as he ignores his insecurity.

“Wait, can’t we just go to your room? I don’t feel like studying on the couch right now,” the yawn that rips through you is uncontrollable as you face away and cover your mouth politely— Beomgyu tries to not let his jaw drop to the floor in response. For someone who had never been to his apartment, you sure were demanding. He shouldn’t feel too surprised though, given how blunt you’ve proved to be the entire time he’s known you.

He’s unable to say no as he gathers the textbook and notebooks on the table and leads the way; he can feel his heart pounding against his chest in fear that you’ll judge him, heart pounding slightly as he goes to lead you to where his room is. (He just hopes you’ll judge him internally, at the very least.)

Meanwhile, you’ve been biting back a smile this whole time; you know you’ve been quite bitchy to him this whole time, but you’d like to think it’s karma for making you study first thing at nine in the morning— his excuse had been the long shift he’d have to cover straight after the tutoring session.

You’re quite surprised at the size and state of his apartment, expecting something much… cheaper, as you kept in mind how quick Beomgyu was to do something whenever you offered him money. Yet as you walk to his room, you’re left quiet as you take in the way everything in his home practically shines; his coffee table, the couch that lacks any crumbs or trash, and his carpet that seems to be recently vacuumed.

You find yourself so caught up in the appearance of his apartment that you fail to notice another presence in the living room; specifically, one that lets out a loud chirp, your body jumping back from the startle and eyes growing wide as you search for the source of the sound— your eyes land on a cage tucked in the corner of the room, a bright green bird with big eyes staring at you curiously from within.

“What the fuck is that?” you say softly— much louder than you intended, really— and Beomgyu is turning back around to see what you’re talking about, eyes widening as he realizes you’re currently staring down his bird with a slight wonder.

“Oh— that’s Toto,” Beomgyu says, rushing to put everything in his arms down and scurrying after when he notices you beginning to get closer; he’s hovering over you, taking in your expression of curiosity carefully before he continues. “He’s my parrot.”

You let out a soft oh. You seem rooted to your spot as you watch the bird continue to climb around the cage, clearly much more active now that Beomgyu is nearby; the said man notes your obvious curiosity, and before he can stop and have any second thoughts, he’s reaching over you to open the cage.

“Wait wait, what’re you—” a yelp escapes you and you’re jumping back the moment Beomgyu is reaching inside, hiding behind him and peeking over his shoulder to watch the way he extends a finger out to the bird— Toto— your mouth falling open dumbly as you take in the way the bird immediately climbs onto his hand.

Beomgyu is careful to take him out; you’re still peeking from behind him as you stare down his bird with wide eyes, body tensed as though it could fly away any given moment— you’re flinching in surprise when he’s turning to face you, hands coming up in defense as the bright green bird swings along, not a thought in its beady eyes as it’s suddenly thrust into your face— you step back again, the movement sudden and startling the bird as its wings flap slightly, which in turn startles you again— Beomgyu merely watches in amusement, and he tries his best to contain his laugh in fear of facing your prickly attitude.

“What the hell,” you breathe out softly, brows twitching and knitting together as you stare at Toto as though it were a foreign creature you’ve never seen, “It’s so… weird looking.”

Beomgyu can only gawk at your comment.

“He’s— he’s not,” is all Beomgyu can say in rebuttal, offended as he looks over at Toto, examining him in reassurance before he pulls his pet closer to his chest.

“He’s a handsome little bird,” Beomgyu mutters, and you’re sure you definitely weren’t supposed to hear that, watching in amazement as Beomgyu strokes Toto’s head fondly, the said bird bowing its head so he can get better access, “you’re such a cool guy, don’t listen to her Toto.”

Glancing back at you, Beomgyu seems to realize what he’s just said, and blushes a soft pink— though you’re not sure why he’s acting so shy, you’ve literally been standing there the whole time— and he clears his throat awkwardly, casting his gaze back to his pet and running his finger along the bird gently before he’s speaking again.

“Do you wanna hold him?”

“I— what?!” you say indignantly, eyes growing the size of saucers as you stare at him, acting as though he’s just told you something extremely offensive, “I don’t want that thing near me, what if it— it…”

You’re trailing off slowly— Beomgyu looks absolutely dejected. You can tell he’s trying not to show his hurt, avoiding your gaze and staring down at Toto instead, but he simply reminds you too much of a kicked puppy to let you continue your baffled ramblings; a moment passes where the two of you don’t say anything, but you finally break the second Beomgyu looks like he’s about to put Toto back in.

“Fine.”

He looks back at you immediately; his eyes look like they’ve been filled with stars.

“Give— give me the bird,” you mumble offhandedly, outstretching your hand awkwardly and finding yourself unable to look at him for once; you can feel the heat of embarrassment threatening to creep onto your skin, but you will it away and bite your cheek as you wait for Beomgyu to do something.

After a second, you feel it; the pressure on your finger, the weird texture and the claws that dig into your skin as the bird’s little feet wrap around you, unable to contain the way you shudder at the feeling; your arm has gone rigid and you’re reluctant to look at the pet that is now perched on your hand, afraid that it might attack you or something— but after a deep breath and some mental encouragement, you do it anyway.

This thing is so fucking creepy, you find yourself thinking, face screwing into one of disdain as you take in the way it simply remains still, freaking you out even further when it suddenly tilts its head in curiosity.

It begins to climb up your arm.

“What the fuck, what the fuck,” you breathe out in a panic, extending your arm away from you as steadily and quickly as you can, the thing now perched on your forearm as you bite back a squeal of fear— you’re looking over at Beomgyu in a haste, expression blatantly screaming help me!— and he quickly springs into action the moment your eyes meet.

“Toto,” Beomgyu coos, clicking his tongue and reaching out to place his hand at Toto’s feet; but the bird only continues to climb up and runs away from Beomgyu, a long, slightly terrified, groan leaving your lips as you can only watch it in horror, much too afraid to jerk your arm and send Toto flying; the moment it’s talons find its way onto your shoulder, you find yourself looking away and praying.

“Toto,” Beomgyu tries again, a little stressed now as he watches his bird perch peacefully on your shoulder— you, on the other hand, are in utter distress, shoulders tense and eyes screwed shut as you mentally pray for the thing to not peck at you— you think you’ve started to hold your breath now.

Through your eyes that peek slightly in fear, you’re able to see Beomgyu reach down at the storage unit beneath the cage and grab something; Toto seems to shift on your shoulder from the sight, and you grow tense as you wonder what the hell the man could be up to— with another call of Toto’s name, the bird finally jumps off your shoulder and over to Beomgyu.

Your body practically slumps in relief.

Beomgyu is back to holding Toto in his hand; your brows furrow at the sight of it eating something strange, your obvious confusion making Beomgyu smile slightly.

“It’s millet,” he explains, slowly moving to put Toto back in the cage before he places the said millet inside as well; with one last gentle scratch at Toto’s head, Beomgyu closes the cage. “It’s like a treat for him.”

“Whatever,” you say dismissively, glancing at Toto one last time before you shudder and turn away, “I don’t wanna see him again.”

Beomgyu isn’t too offended by your comment; if anything, he smiles in amusement, muttering softly that Toto seems to like you— you make a point to blatantly ignore his comment.

Any confidence Beomgyu had built up from before disappears the moment you finally arrive before the door that leads to the room; he’s found himself nervous once more, shifting the materials in his arms and reach out to open his door cautiously; he hopes you didn’t take notice of the way his hand shook slightly.

His room is no different than the rest of the apartment as you stand in the doorway, curiously surveying it all; your brow raises in amusement as you take in the way his personality is scattered throughout the small room. His bed is neatly made and the sheets are pressed to perfection, and the nightstand contains a stack of books that are both thick and annotated.

In front of you, you watch Beomgyu awkwardly place the books in his arms down on the bed, pushing up his glasses as you allow your eyes to continue drifting around— they instantly land on the desk setup in the corner of the room, your eyes widening as you’re able to recognize how expensive the setup is; two monitors display a random game you seem to recognize, and you let your curiosity get the best of you as you approach it slowly.

The keyboard is lighting up before you and a headset is hung on one of the monitors, and you let out a soft tsk as you take in the empty coffee cups beside the mouse, the only messy thing about his whole room; you wouldn’t be surprised if he’s spilled the liquid over the setup before.

What surprised you the most however, are the countless picture frames and cute figurines that are scattered all over the room— a lucky cat is perched right at his windowsill, waving at you repeatedly as you’re unable to hold back your laugh of bewilderment; everything seems to be dusted and well taken care of, you’re surprised Beomgyu can ever find the energy to do such things.

“You play League of Legends?” Is all you say, turning around as you meet Beomgyu’s flustered face; Beomgyu had been on the verge of melting into a puddle of embarrassment the entire time you looked around his room, unsure of what to say or do the moment you approached his gaming setup. He was sure you’d make fun of him, but instead he’s pleasantly surprised as he silently hopes his face isn’t a raging red at the moment. (It definitely is, but you’re kind enough to give him a break and not tease him about it.)

“Oh— yeah. You play?” It’s oddly adorable to watch the way his eyes light up and his whole body perks up excitedly, but you find it even more adorable to watch the way he deflates as you bark out a laugh of surprise, your whole face lighting up as you cover your mouth in apology, feeling a slight pity for managing to make him look like a kicked puppy again.

“Fuck no!” You say in amusement, unable to imagine yourself doing such a thing, “Huening used to be obsessed with it though.”

You roll your eyes at the memory, recalling all the nights back in high school where he’d leave you alone in his bed, staying up late gaming with his friends while you hid in his room during social gatherings— but now he “outgrew that childish game,” according to him. If anything, you think he outgrew gaming all together, especially after you expressed how ridiculous the whole thing seemed to you.

“Huening, the guy from your apartment?” Beomgyu says meekly, eyes downcast as he flips through his notes mindlessly; you scoff, flopping on the bed next to him as you cross your legs daintily.

“Yeah, the guy from my apartment,” you say, leaning in to try and catch his gaze, “what, you jealous?”

Your comment is enough to have Beomgyu a sputtering mess; you don’t think he could get any redder than he is now as he shoves his notebook into your lap, clearing his throat weakly as he scoots away from you, leaving an offending amount of space as he squeaks out a defensive no.

“Wouldn’t blame you if you were,” you tease, staring down at the notes as you try to decipher what the hell it could all mean— it’s embarrassing when you’re left on your own for a good minute, unable to say anything about the material before Beomgyu is finally jumping to your aide and explaining things to you; slowly, you settle down and allow him to begin the session.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

You’d like to pat yourself on the back for lasting so long. Lasting so long without being difficult, that is, because the hour of peace Beomgyu got was short lived before you became a short-tempered brat before him—the only thing that surprises him at this point is the confidence you get to be like this all the time.

“I seriously don’t get this stuff,” you whine, kicking Beomgyu softly as you hold back a smile— it was clearly done to tease him— laying back on his bed as you cross your arms childishly, “I think I should just change my major.”

Beomgyu isn’t surprised that you find that so easy to say— for a moment, he dreams of being able to do the same when times get tough, but he was quick to come back to reality as he watched you kick at him petulantly; you managed to lay on his bed and make yourself comfortable, splayed over his pillows as you continued to mess around with him.

“Can’t we take a break? I’ve been good,” you pout, tapping your fingers on your bicep as you look at him sweetly— Beomgyu has to look away in order to say no, tapping his pencil on his notebook as he quietly prays for you to settle down and focus again.

“Come on, you’re lucky I showed up in the first place,” Beomgyu’s gaze is glued to his notebook as you roughly sit up, your denim shorts riding up your thighs as you kneel close to him; taking a deep breath to calm himself proves to be a mistake as he gets a good smell of your expensive perfume, biting his lip as he watches you try to get his attention by getting closer to him.

“You only showed up because I did you a favor,” it’s odd that you find the way his voice trembles and his ears turn red adorable, but then again, you’d be a little sad if a man didn’t react that way to you.

You have him wrapped around your finger— it’s a fact that dawns on you as you watch the way he doesn’t shut you down and forces you to study. Scooting closer to him, you lean down, pressing your cheek against his bicep as you stare down at the countless notes that lay before him.

“Well, that and because you’re kinda cute,” you admit, holding back a smile at the way he flinches at the sudden contact, “But seriously, I’m so bored.”

Beomgyu thinks you might have gone insane as he watches the way you take the materials in his lap away from him, setting it to the side before you’re stringing yourself across his lap, stretching cutely as you stare up at him with wide doe eyes— he’s quickly looking back up as he fails to find the strength to push you off.

“I can’t believe I actually came here this early,” you say, adjusting yourself on his thighs before you’re grabbing his hand, playing with his sleeve coyly as you wonder how far you can take this, “How’d you afford this place all by yourself? It’s in a good area too.”

“I didn’t,” Beomgyu stutters out, clearing his throat as he pulls his hand away from your grasp shyly, “I have a roommate— Yeonjun.”

“Choi Yeonjun? Captain of the baseball team?” You say, eyes widening as you watch Beomgyu nod softly; you’re sitting up, ignoring the way Beomgyu visibly relaxes at the action, “Is he here right now?”

“No, he’s out,” Beomgyu frowns, watching as the gears turn in your head, your pout obvious as you take in his response, “he won’t be home for another three hours.”

How in the hell did he and Beomgyu become roommates? It’s a question you’re quite literally fighting the urge to ask, but knowing that one of the most attractive guys you’ve had your eye on currently lives in the same house as the man before you makes you want to stick around longer— though you think you might be too obvious about it, judging by the way Beomgyu’s frowning at you.

“That’s nice,” you hum, feeling a bit bad for the way Beomgyu looks away in defeat, “but that means we’re all alone here?”

Your question is enough to have Beomgyu sitting up straight— your tone is so dangerous, the way you slowly crawl to him even more so.

He quickly finds himself scooting back, eyes flying around wildly as he almost falls off the bed— you’re quick to catch him, pulling him by the collar of his sweater as his adam’s apple bobs visibly. His long hair falls back and his face is left exposed to you, your body finding comfort on top of his as you straddle his thighs comfortably. His glasses are left on the tip of his nose as his ears quickly turn red, cheeks dusted with the same color as he uselessly props himself up on his elbows; you’re practically nose to nose as you tower over him, your cute blouse hanging and exposing your breasts in a way that has Beomgyu staring straight above your head— in return, the reflection of your sunglasses is all that meets him.

“Do you ever take a break?” You ask, letting go of his collar before you’re gently smoothing it out; he’s shivering at your touch, eyes fluttering shut nervously as he exhales at the feeling of your warm hand— he knows you can see the way he tenses as you begin to trail your palm down his chest, pressing teasingly where his heart resides as you tilt your head cutely.

“Ever stop studying and just…. Take care of yourself?” The implications of your words couldn’t be more obvious with the way your voice drops, your thighs clenching around his body as you watch his breath hitch at the action; your fingers delicately drum against his chest as you wait for him to say something, to push you off and tell you to never speak to him again— instead, he shakes his head, his shyness intensifying as his eyes remain shut.

“Will you let me take care of you?” You breathe out, entranced with the way his eyes finally open to meet yours— within them, he sees no malice or mockery, just an intense fire and need that has his stomach twisting and his hands grabbing at his neatly pressed sheets in anticipation.

Softly, he nods.

You’ve never experienced this before; you’ve never had a man pliant and weak under you, ready to take whatever you give him with adoring eyes that sparkle under the lights. You’re so used to being the one in that position, of allowing yourself to be used and molded how they’d like— so to say you’re quite surprised at the thrill you feel is an understatement.

“You’re like a little puppy,” you mumble sweetly, reaching up to caress his heated cheeks— the whine that escapes him is involuntary, your eyes clouding with lust as you take in the way he reacts to your nickname; leaning up, you grab the collar of his sweater as you guide him to sit up with you— you’re in awe of how obedient he is as he follows your command, hands hovering politely as he waits for your next move.

“Do you like it when I call you that?” You tilt your head, laying your hands by Beomgyu’s collar bones before they’re sliding up, intertwining lazily behind his nape as you’re leaning in teasingly; you’re so close to him, you can feel his breath fan on your face as you tease the corner of his lips with your own— you’re pulling away the moment he tries to chase you, giving him an expectant look as you wait for him to answer your question. “Puppy?”

“Y—yes, I…” he’s unable to finish his sentence the moment he feels your chest press against his, soft breasts teasing him as he squeezes his eyes shut; you’re everywhere, your lips planting feather-like kisses on his cheeks as you begin to overwhelm his senses. Your warm thighs that encase him, your hands that play with the nape of his hair, your perfume that he gets to inhale as you tilt your neck closer to him— hell, as you reach his jaw, he’s able to smell your shampoo, the scent addicting and no doubt expensive as you press yourself firmly against him.

This is insane. There should be no universe where Beomgyu should have one of the richest girls in his university pressed against him and on his lap, and there’s no way he’s the one submitting himself so pathetically in it. Yet here he is, practically leaning into your touch and chasing after you the moment you pull away, feeling a whine escape from his throat as he finally finds the courage to place a hand on your hip; keeping you in place, fingertips splayed over the swell of your ass as you try and fail to hide the smile that breaks out on your face.

“Stupid puppy wants me to kiss him?” You pout mockingly, and instead of feeling the usual shame bubbling within him from your condescending tone, Beomgyu can only feel himself melt pathetically, pouty face and shining doe eyes begging you to give in as you brush away a strand of hair that fell in his eye; Beomgyu’s eyes flutter shut at the gentle touch, lips parting before he finally feels you swoop in and take him by surprise.

Your lip gloss is sweet and sticky as you ravish the boy below you, able to feel his inexperience and eagerness with the way he’s practically ready to push you back into the mattress— but he holds himself back, allowing you to swipe your tongue along his lip and tease him before you’re venturing further.

It’s all so lewd and desperate, and Beomgyu feels dazed by the time you’re finally pulling away, a Cheshire grin on your face as you swipe his bottom lip that’s shining with lip gloss and saliva; like instinct, his lips part and close around your thumb, eyes never straying from yours as you feel his tongue swipe over the finger teasingly— your gaze darkens at the sight, mind racing with all the things you could do to him as you watch the way his plush lips circle around the digit.

The pop that sounds throughout the room when you pull away is enough to make you let out a soft groan, your eyes tracing along his body until you finally find the very thing you’re curious about— smiling, you’re not as surprised to find his dick straining against the neat fabric of his trousers.

“Can I touch you, pup?” You ask, your voice breathy and deep as you wait patiently for his answer; once again, he gulps, shining eyes just as dazed as you are before he finally lets out a soft yes; slowly, your perfectly manicured hand makes its way down to his khaki trousers, playing with the button before you’re finally undoing it— the sigh that Beomgyu lets out once you undo his zipper is practically lethal, your lips twitching in delight at the sound.

It’s cute to see the way his hips buck up into the air as you reveal his boxers, helping you pull down his pants until you’re face to face with the very thing you’ve been wanting the most. It’s odd, but it seems as though Beomgyu brings out a side you didn’t think existed, a teasing smile creeping its way onto your face as you plant your core firmly on him; he’s letting out a strangled gasp at the sudden pressure and warmth, his eyes screwing shut as his lips are falling open, the sight tempting as you resist the urge to kiss him again.

Beomgyu is like an instrument under your touch, and you’re eager to learn how to play as you slowly begin to rock your hips back and forth; the reaction is instant for him as he bucks up into you, whimpering cutely as his eyes remain shut the whole time. Your thighs feel so soft against his own, and he’s sure he won’t last long if he’s forced to inhale your intoxicating scent the whole way through.

It isn’t until you’re climbing off his lap that Beomgyu’s eyes are finally flying open, meeting yours in a confused haze as he allows you to push him back and tower over him as he lays; he looks so enticing and pretty with his hair splayed out around the sheets, lidded eyes and fucked out expression oddly addicting to you as you go to straddle one of his thighs.

“You’re so cute,” you coo, pushing his sweater up as you run your nails teasingly over his stomach— you laugh softly as he flinches at the feeling. Slowly, you’re pulling the waistband of his boxers down until his cock is finally springing out and smacking against his stomach; his tip is red and sticky as a line of precum is left connected to his stomach, his eyes shutting in embarrassment once more as he turns his head to the side in an effort to turn away. He’s so long as you take him in, appreciating the vein that runs along the curve of his shaft with a soft hum.

“Please,” he whines, covering his face with his hands as his body grows hotter the longer you stare at him; you can only laugh fondly at the sight, watching the way his hips buck up uselessly at the sound.

“My puppy, you’re so pretty,” you sigh, spitting in your hand before you’re finally reaching down to grab ahold of him; the feeling is unexpected as Beomgyu lets out a soft yelp under you, his cries dying out the moment you’re beginning to stroke him teasingly.

“How long has it been since you let out some steam?” You tease, running your thumb across his tip and spreading the precum along as he simply moans in response; he’s so whiny and breathy as none of your words seem to register in his head, enamored by the pretty girl that’s sitting on his thigh and stroking his cock so well.

You can’t help yourself when you readjust to kneel between his legs, his face still covered by his hands as he doesn’t anticipate your next move— Beomgyu swears he almost came the moment he felt your mouth wrap around his tip. Your mouth is practically watering around Beomgyu’s cock as you slowly take him in, surprised by his length yet determined to hear more of his pathetic gasps and whines as you slowly take him in.

“Oh god, oh god, you’re so— y-you’re so warm, oh,” Beomgyu is a babbling mess as his hands land helplessly on your head, unsure of what to do with them as he feels the tip of your nose press against his navel; his eyes are practically rolling back as he feels the mess you’re making on his cock, your mouth so hot and wet he can’t help the way he subtly thrusts into it.

“I’m sorry, I— I didn’t mean to…” his words are dying on his tongue the moment he feels you reach for his hand and pull back, guiding him to set the pace as you run your tongue over his tip— that’s enough to have Beomgyu whining and out of breath, but he’s able to pull himself together as he slowly begins to fuck your mouth.

“Shit, you’re so pretty, I can’t believe you’re doing this to me,” Beomgyu breathes out, fascinated with the way you remain completely cool even as he begins thrusting his cock into your throat, “so good.”

The sudden confession doesn’t process in Beomgyu’s mind, but it has your mind reeling as you close your eyes, determined to make this man fall apart under you as you ignore the flutter of butterflies in your stomach.

It takes Beomgyu a second to find his pace as he’s gently stroking your hair, face warm and shining with embarrassment as he tries to ignore how inexperienced he may seem— contrary to what he might think, you don’t really care; the only thing you care for is how melodic he sounds as his hips begin stuttering into your mouth, the feeling of your tongue running along his shaft too much for him as his breath hitches pathetically.

“Wait wait wait— oh my god, I’m so— Ah, please don’t stop,” he’s whimpering and babbling at your touch, his hand attempting to pull you off as he nears his release; you only sink further in retaliation, the loud moan that Beomgyu lets out giving you satisfaction as you feel his cum spurting against the back of your throat— your eyes are barely able to catch his expression as he throws his head back, hips stilling entirely as he rides out his orgasm.

Beomgyu is still trying to catch his breath when he feels his hips bucking subconsciously, the feeling of you pulling away making him whine softly from the sensitivity. Slowly, his eyes flutter open, his glasses skewed and his vision a haze as his gaze meets yours— he’s able to catch the way you swallow, your mouth empty as a teasing grin sneaks onto your face.

His stomach flips at the sight.

He’s unsure of what to do as you sit up, your hair mused and your clothes in disarray as you take him in with an intense stare— he feels oddly shy as he tugs down his sweater to cover himself, gulping nervously as he begins to wonder if this was all a twisted joke— some sort of childish dare, anything that was meant to humiliate him.

Instead, he feels you reach forward to fix his glasses, brushing away the hair that was stuck to his forehead as you smiled sweetly; Beomgyu thinks he forgot how to breathe as he takes in your proximity, left frozen as you leave a slow, chaste kiss on his lips.

“I should go— you have work, right?” The question is enough to snap Beomgyu back to reality, nodding softly as you finally get up from his bed; turning to his mirror, you fix your appearance, brows raising in curiosity as you notice the guitar that’s propped up beside it— you briefly wonder if he’s good at playing it, and find yourself wanting to ask if he can sing; you refrain. “I’ll let you get ready then.”

There’s not much Beomgyu can say as he watches you go to his door like nothing happened; he flinches in surprise as you turn back to him one last time, a grin on your face as you send him one final goodbye.

“This was fun.”

Beomgyu is left to decipher your words and intentions as you walk away.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Why did you do that.

“Oh god, why did I do that?”

You’re a puddle of embarrassment as you roll around in the back of your driver’s car, your hands plastered on your face as you try to melt away from this reality— instead, the memory of Beomgyu’s flustered and fucked out face is the only thing that meets your eyelids.

You’re not sure what took over you— what in the world possessed you to fuck your tutor? You knew that if you told your friends you’d never hear the end of it, but you think you might be at risk of losing the only thing that was helping you get your grades up after this.

It was already difficult to get Beomgyu to agree to be in a room alone with you— and now you had to absolutely fuck up and push the boundaries to a place where you’d never return.

Out of all the men, it just had to be Choi Beomgyu. It’s a fact that makes your face heat up and your head hit the back of the car seat in defeat as you stare out the window in dismay; instead of going for someone who was in your league, you chose to go after a nobody.

You didn’t even get anything out of it! The thought is humiliating as you shut your eyes and groan, ignoring the way your driver glances back at you in concern; you sucked his dick and dipped— that is so unlike you.

Everything about the situation is unlike you— you would never go after someone like Beomgyu, he didn’t align with your type at all! The feeling of dread in your stomach is only worsened as you mentally go through the people you’ve been with in the past, cringing the more you realize how much of an outlier Beomgyu is.

“Mr. Kim,” you call out, pulling down your shades as you avoid the rays of sunlight that are hitting your face. He’s perking up in response immediately, glancing at you through his mirror before he nods his head to indicate he’s listening.

“Take me to Hueningkai’s house please,” you say, taking your phone out of your purse as you absentmindedly text Huening that you’re on your way— Mr. Kim’s yes ma’am is left unanswered as you watch Hueningkai respond within seconds— all you can do is sink further in your seat at his eagerness to see you, the implications of his message more than clear to you.

The drive to his home is long and silent, and you’re forced to reflect on yourself the whole way through— the more you do, the more flustered and confused you feel, forcing yourself to set those thoughts to the side as Mr. Kim pulls up to Huening’s driveway.

Yet even as you’re walking to his doorstep, an eager smile forced on your face as you wait for Huening to answer, you can’t help the way your thoughts stray. It all seems to linger on the same subject, gulping nervously at the way Beomgyu’s small whines still ring out in your head.

“Hey,” Hueningkai smiles, leaning against the doorway as he takes you in; you try to ignore the way his hungry eyes take you in, greeting him softly before you’re pushing past him and going inside, kicking your shoes off at the doorway.

“What’s up?” Hueningkai immediately asks, noticing the way you don’t indulge in any of his games or teasing, your face blank as you plop down on the couch. “You need something?”

“No,” you say, oddly defensive as you lay along his couch, crossing your legs as you proceed to do the same with your arms, “Can’t I just chill at your place without needing anything?”

Hueningkai raises a brow at your huffy comment. Tilting his head, he smiles, a gesture sly and teasing as he watches the way you stand your ground.

“Well, whenever you come over it’s usually not to just chill,” he says, repeating your words with clear amusement, “so forgive me for thinking something was off.”

You’re in a bad mood today; Hueningkai is quick to pick up on it as you scoff at his words, looking away from him and pouting as you remain silent. Slowly, he makes his way to you, testing out the waters before he’s sitting down at your feet.

“What’s wrong baby?” He asks, slowly beginning to hover over you until you can’t help but look at him; he’s everywhere, a holding himself up with a hand by your head while the other finds its way to your hip— playing with the hem of your shirt, slowly teasing you until he’s pushing past and caressing your skin— you flinch at the feeling of his cold hand.

“Come on, we can talk,” he says, but you know he doesn’t really mean it with the way his leg is trying to pry your thighs open, pressing up against your core as he feels something unexpected— his eyes are lighting up as he smiles down at you, raising a brow as he takes in the small change of your expression.

“Or maybe you don’t wanna talk?” He says, the surprising heat that meets his thigh is more than welcome as he watches you become flustered under him.

“Fuck off Huening,” you groan, pressing a hand against his chest as you turn away from him— all you get in return is a dark laugh, his lips ghosting along your jawline as he presses a firm kiss under your ear, his hand pushing your shirt up as it wanders towards your breasts.

“Hmm, are you sure?” He huffs, adjusting his position so that he’s able to place a hand on your hip, grinding your hips against his thighs as he bites his lip at the sight, “won’t you put those pretty lips to use at least?”

The irritation that had been brewing inside you is far too much to handle as you scoff at his words, your head snapping back to glare at him as you push against his chest firmly, catching him off guard as you knock him off his balance entirely; he’s knocked out of his lusty reverie as he stares at you with wide eyes from the other end of the couch, lips parting as he attempts to say something, only to be cut off by you.

“Seriously Huening, I’m not in the fucking mood!” You snap, pulling your top back down harshly before you’re standing up— he’s left to watch in confusion as you readjust yourself, your brows furrowed in a mean frown as you glare at him once more— and to think you thought you’d be able to spend more than five minutes with Hueningkai without him wanting to fuck you.

“Come on baby, you know I didn’t mean it like that—“

“Do you ever think without your dick when you’re around me?” It’s annoying to see how nonchalant Hueningkai is as he laughs off your words, crossing his arms defensively as he tries to play off what just happened.

“You didn’t even think to check up on me when I was sick!” You thought you were over the bitter moment, but the memory still seems to sting as you remind him of a time where you needed him the most, “ever since we started this whole… stupid friends with benefits thing, you’ve been acting like such a prick!”

“Don’t be like this,” Hueningkai groans, throwing his head back as he runs a hand through his hair, “you’re being dramatic.”

“Oh my god!” You bark, left in disbelief as you pace around his apartment, “like seriously, are you listening to yourself right now?!”

You’re more than fed up as you make your way back to the entrance, gathering your things and slipping on your shoes as you hear Hueningkai following close behind, spouting excuses and other nonsense to try and make you stay.

You’ve opened the door when Hueningkai grabs onto you desperately, tugging you back into his chest and asking you to listen to him as he sets firm hands on your hips; you’re looking at everything but him as you remain silent, your hands pressed defensively against his chest as you give him on last chance to redeem himself.

“Come on baby, you know I don’t wanna lose you,” he says, his voice soft and vulnerable as he leans in, watching as you tilt your head away from him and continue to refuse to meet his eyes. Feeling him press you harder against him, your jaw clenches as he places a sweet kiss on your cheek.

“Lemme make it up to you. Please?”

You know perfectly well what his words entail as you push him away from you once more, swinging your purse and smacking him harshly as you let your anger out on him. He has the audacity to laugh and cower away from you as he apologizes, telling you that it was just a joke as you continue to hit him relentlessly.

“Fuck you!” You say, out of energy and left a huffing mess as you swing the door open behind you, “asshole!”

You don’t stay around to see his reaction as you slam the door shut, storming away and walking along the sidewalk as you pull your phone out.

Pick me up please.

Huening’s being an asshole, I’m waiting outside.

It’s moments like these where you regret being irresponsible with your car, left with nothing but your driver as you still wait for your precious baby to come out of the repair shop; to this day your parents still scold you for an accident that happened over a month ago, the words “bad driver” tacked on along with the rest that curate your reputation.

In a perfect world, Hueningkai would’ve come out by now; he would’ve gone after you, apologizing and hanging his head in shame in regards to his behavior— in a perfect world, he wouldn’t have turned into the person he is now, forgoing your friendship entirely to satiate his needs— you hadn’t given much thought to what the consequences to this “friends with benefits” thing would be, but if you could go back in time to the moment where he drunkenly proposed it to you, you would’ve been quick to shut him down with an incredulous laugh.

It was your fault for having a soft spot for him. Your fault for wondering what his lips would feel like one too many times, for being caught staring at him back when you were just kids and you were forced to attend dinner parties together, trying and failing to conceal the way he could fluster you with just a single smile.

Now that his desires have been satiated, you doubt he has any use for you now— which is why you find yourself waiting pathetically outside his apartment, not used to this feeling that festers in your stomach as you wait patiently— whether it’s simply for your driver or for the glimmering hope that Hueningkai will own up to his actions and take you back, you’re not sure.

But what you do know is that you’ve never felt so small.

Moments later, your driver arrives; you swear you try to hold back, but you can’t help yourself from turning around and taking one last peek at Huening’s quiet, dull apartment— gritting your teeth, you flop inside, groaning obnoxiously as you rub your temples in annoyance; your driver is unfazed by your behavior— meeting his eyes, you sigh.

“I need to go shopping.”

Wordlessly, he nods— you don’t bother to stare out the window once you finally feel the car moving, in fear that your mind may begin to imagine scenarios that simply won’t happen.

The car ride is silent, and you realize with a frown that you may have left with a mood worse than before.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

This department store is useless.

Geez, did you piss off some god above or something? Because as you stand in your tenth store in the past hour, nose scrunched and brows furrowed unpleasantly, you feel as though you may be getting karma for something— though what it may be exactly, you’re unsure.

Everything around you is either already in your closet or simply outdated. Your fingertips tap rhythmically against your crossed arms, eyes narrowed as you take slow strides around the aisles of the stores— a part-time employee follows closely behind you, hands folded neatly and a pleasant smile glued to face as she comments on every item your eyes fall on, even if it’s just for a second; your jaw ticks at her cheap tactics to sell to you.

There’s only one thing that would make your mood at this time— a limited edition purse you have had your eyes on, trying your best to catch your usual stores at the right times in hopes of getting your hands on it. Yet, with every failed attempt, your frustrations and efforts only grow, and you’ve found yourself visiting these stores more often than you’d like, always leaving with an item or two despite telling yourself not to do so.

“Excuse me,” you say sternly, your steps coming to a halt as you slowly turn to the employee. She’s meek and her voice is airy as she speaks to you, eyebrows raised as though she seems genuinely interested in what you might say next— her act only displeases you more.

“I’m trying to shop in peace, please leave me alone.” you say, watching as the woman simply flinches at your comment, smile stiffening on her lips before she’s swiftly apologizing seconds after— if you weren’t careful, you could’ve missed the way her lips turned up with irritation as she turned, muttering quietly to herself as though you weren’t two steps away to hear it.

Rich snob, you pick up, blinking in surprise as you watch her steps becoming hasty with her retreat. You don’t allow yourself to be fazed by it, a smile tugging at your lips from amusement before you turn back around; scanning the store, you glance at the mannequins on display, taking in the outfits briefly before you catch onto something else— and before you can control yourself, you’re walking again.

Don’t be stupid, your brain tells you, yelling at you as you exit the store with haste, pushing past the people standing around as you make your way to the store across, Don’t do this, this is a bad idea, don’t—

Do it, your heart tells you, pounding against your chest as you adjust the purse strap on your shoulder, gulping slightly as you swing open the door, you’re not here for him, you’re here for the very thing you’ve worked so hard for.

And if it so happens to be in his hands right now, then is it really your fault that you find yourself standing before the very man that hurt you mere moments ago?

“Cute purse,” you breathe out, eyes glued to the way it shines beautifully under the lights of the store, “Though I don’t really think it’s your style.”

Hueningkai doesn’t bother looking up. He’s too busy handling the limited edition purse that you’ve so desperately been searching for, nimble fingers running over the details as though he were actually taking his time to inspect it; instead, he hums softly at your words, pretending to ponder for a second before he’s frowning.

“You really think so?” he asks, tsking softly to himself before he’s shaking his head, straightening up before he runs a hand against the surface; you watch the way his fingers slide across the material, teeth tugging at your lip as you fight the twitch of your brows, wanting nothing more than to take the item from his hands and walk away.

You stand there in silence, for a moment; you wonder slightly if Hueningkai is simply ignoring you, and the idea is enough to have you bristling with anger, your jaw clenching as you decide that it’s better to leave now than to look helpless before him— but he’s looking up at you, lidded eyes catching you in a daze as he tilts his head, sending you his signature charming smile.

“It wasn’t for me,” he says, looking down at the purse in his hands and holding it close to him, as though gauging its weight, “It was going to be a gift.”

“A gift? Quite the gesture on your part,” you scoff, looking at the display area in exasperation— fuck, the only purse in this awful store is in his hands, you realize— leaving you with no other choice but to hope that he’ll stop playing games and leave the purse he clearly never had any intentions of buying, “But I don’t think those other girls you talk to would be very interested in such a specific item like this— I’d suggest appealing to their own interests a bit more.”

With gritted teeth, you reach out to take the bag; an impulsive move on your part, not exactly surprised with the way Hueningkai immediately backs up and holds the bag close to him. You can practically feel your blood boil from the sheer anger that’s taking over from his antics, unamused entirely at the way he merely sends you an innocent smile.

“Don’t be rude,” he smiles, taking yet another step back, making more distance between you two, “Who are you to say what they would or wouldn’t like? Plus, I saw this first, and I had full intentions of buying it.”

You remain silent— whether you’re too baffled to speak or are simply trying to not explode and yell at him in the middle of the store, you’re not entirely sure— but, as you watch him raise a brow challengingly, you can only find yourself thinking one thing.

Fuck this. You’ll just order it online.

The idea takes away the very joy of being able to find it by chance, but you’d rather die right now than grovel to Hueningkai— like he very clearly wants— in hopes that he’ll take pity on you and give you the purse; spinning on your heels, you make your way out with brisk steps.

You don’t get very far before you hear him calling out your name— but you ignore it, a baffled scoff escaping you in response to his sheer audacity to act so shameless after belittling you a few hours prior; you’re a few steps away from the exit when you feel a tug on your wrist, jolting you back and preventing you from leaving.

“What, Hueningkai?” you say, huffing exasperatedly as you shake off his grip on you, “Can’t you just leave me alone for once? I’m not in the mood to play your stupid games.”

“Well then why don’t you talk to me instead of running away childishly?” he says sharply, and you have to bite your tongue in order to not point out his hilariously hypocritical statement, “you’re acting so weird, what the hell happened?”

You think you might just do something that’ll get you banned from the store— but something catches your eye before you can act out on your impulses, and you’re ripping your wrist from Hueningkai’s hold with one last harsh tug. Your gaze is no longer on him; he tries to follow your line of sight, but fails to catch onto what you’re looking at.

“Get out or leave me alone,” you say, giving him one last cold look before you’re brushing past him, “I’m not interested in talking to you.”

You’re weaving through the displays and getting out of his sight quickly— and Hueningkai is left with a purse he had no interest in buying, looking down at the item before he scoffs; he throws it off at a random shelf and exits promptly after.

Your footsteps are haste and your heels click rhythmically on the tiled floor; you’re making your way to the cash register, watching his meek stance and the way he flinches under your gaze, a flush running up the back of his neck and coloring his ears red— but you don’t dare to look away from him, placing a rough hand on the counter and leaning close as you inspect him.

“You didn’t tell me you worked here.”

Beomgyu is attempting to stutter out a weak response; his cheeks are colored and his hair is tied back neatly, and you can see the way his hands twitch, undoubtedly resisting the urge to run a hand through the neat style.

“Why— why would I tell you? It’s not something you’d need to know. Or– is it…?”

You’ve confused him, that much you’re sure of. His brows have knitted together and he remains flustered beyond belief— you’re sure you can guess what’s running through his mind right now, and you fight the twitch of your lips at the mere thought.

“I thought you worked as a server.”

“I– I do?” he’s tilting his head in confusion, glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose slightly, “I have two jobs.”

“Three,” you quip, drumming your nails against the counter rhythmically, “you tutor.”

“I… guess…?” Beomgyu says, fighting back the urge to correct you that he really doesn’t— you’re the only one he’s ever tutored before.

“Why would you need to work three jobs? How do you get the time for this?” you don’t really know why you’re pestering Beomgyu about this so much— but you’re also fascinated by it, now beginning to understand where Beomgyu’s lack of social life stems from.

He’s unsure of how to answer your question again; you don’t seem to be particularly patient today, (but then again, when are you?) so you’re waving him off with a dismissive swat of your hand, shaking your head and clicking your tongue before you’re changing the subject; Beomgyu is left to watch as you pull your phone out, scrolling on it for a bit before you’re placing it on the counter and spinning it around for him to see— his eyes are narrowing in concentration as he takes in the picture.

“This purse,” you say slowly, tapping your nail on your phone screen, as though Beomgyu wasn’t currently looking at it, “do you have it in stock? This guy already got one, but I need to know if you have others— I’ve got to have it.”

The urgency in your voice is a bit surprising to Beomgyu— he takes in your expression, solemn and a bit scary, and gulps— then he watches the way you melt in relief the moment he nods hesitantly.

“I’m sure we just got a shipment in today— we, haven’t really, uhm, stocked up properly yet,” he stutters, wincing slightly at the sound while you remain unfazed; your brows lift expectantly, and he’s snapping out his daze and sending you a shaky smile, “I’ll go check.”

He scurries out of your sight and into the employee door quicker than you can process— and when he turns around to take a peek at the small window, he finds you leaning on the counter and on your phone— probably texting, judging by the way your thumbs fly by on the screen— and he feels another heat of shame wash over him, his head spinning and his legs turning into jello.

How can you act so casually? He wonders, glasses slipping down just a bit farther down his nose, nimble fingers pushing it back up with ease, like you weren’t just in his bedroom a few hours prior… like he wasn’t under you…

Beomgyu practically jumps the moment your eyes flicker up and meet his; you simply smile, glossed lips stretching slowly before you give him a wink.

In response, he spins around and begins to actually look— his heart hammers in his chest.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

So pretty.

So perfect and smooth to the touch, cool under your fingertips— you take your time to feel, to trace over every detail, intricate and crafted by the gods as you let out a shaky sigh— your eyes meet Beomgyu’s, and you have half the mind to feel a bit sheepish, retracting your hand quickly and returning to a socially acceptable state of mind.

“Sorry,” you say, beaming at him before you’re reaching into your current bag and handing him your card; his eyes widen comically at the smooth black plastic you place in his hold carelessly, “It’s just… all I could ever ask for. I can’t believe I finally have my hands on this…”

Meanwhile, Beomgyu rings up your inexplicably expensive item, swiping your card and watching the way you don’t even flinch at the sum that shows up; he feels a bit jealous at your nonchalance.

You’re carrying the purse like it were a baby; it isn’t until Beomgyu offers to bag it for you that you finally let it go, placing it gently on the counter and smiling fondly as you watch Beomgyu place it carefully in the equally luxurious gift bag, placing filler paper on top and handing it back to you, his movement practiced and calculated as he says his usual lines— his mind is running on autopilot once more, but you’re particularly eager to break him out of it as you reach out to take the bag from him, warm hand wrapping around his and tugging him slightly towards you.

“Thank you for all your help today,” you purr, shining lips stretching into a coy smile, leaning against the counter and watching as he gulps, adam's apple bobbing, “I think I’ll do well on our upcoming quiz— you’re such a good tutor.”

You don’t bother to stick around after that; your steps are brisk and you’re hugging the purchase close to your body, as though someone were after it and ready to take it, confidence in your step as you exit the store— Beomgyu, on the other hand, practically crumbles the moment you’re out of sight, fingers turning white from how hard he grips onto the edge of the counter; his heart pounds and the sound of blood rushing fills his ears, mind inevitably going back to your teasing action before he’s flustering again.

You’re laughing to yourself the whole ride home— his reaction plays on your mind like a loop, beyond amused by the sight as you pat yourself on the back for being able to come up with something so clever on the spot.

What you don’t realize, however, is that there are consequences to your actions— consequences that are far beyond your control.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

“Are you for real?”

“Uh-huh,” you grin, placing a fond hand on your cheek and batting your eyes at Yunjin, “totally aced it.”

“That’s something I never thought I’d hear from you,” your friend says, poking her fork at her salad before taking a bite; she furrows her brows as she takes in your expression, mouth agape and eyes wide, as though you were offended. “What? It’s true.”

“Okay, first off— I’m not stupid, just lazy,” you clarify, pointing an accusing finger at your friend as you pout, “and second of all, you should really believe in your friend a little more.”

“I mean, it was a little hard to when all you would do was skip classes and go shopping instead,” Yunjin says, raising a challenging brow when you open your mouth to refute her claims— then proceed to promptly close it again, finding that you really can’t deny that— and a small smile tugs at her lips, the kind that lets you know that she’s about to say something really annoying, “but I guess your study sessions with your little boy toy really did work.”

“Boy—?!” you’re in the middle of taking a sip from your iced coffee when she says that, the straw slipping from your mouth and a bit of the liquid escaping from the sheer surprise of her comment— you wipe at your mouth with the back of your hand, feeling a slight heat rush to your face as you stare at her incredulously, “boy toy?”

“I mean, am I wrong?” Yunjin challenges, tilting her head in curiosity while you simply try to deny her claims, “you were literally just telling me about the way you had him wrapped around your finger a while ago—”

“Not like that though!” you huff, feeling worked up from the mere idea of Yunjin finding out the complete and utterly stupid slip up you had a while ago, “god, he’s literally such a fucking loser, don’t try to pair me up with him— other people might get the wrong idea. It’s already bad enough that I had to get a tutor, because it’s not like I was doing bad in my classes until recently. I mean, it’s still my fault and I did let myself go, but I didn’t think I’d have to stoop so low! And now I have to take so much time out of my day to spend my time studying with him and even worse, you’re trying to insinuate something that definitely isn’t true—!”

“Yes! Okay! Enough of that please!” Yunjin says exasperatedly, glancing over your shoulder briefly before she’s taking another bite of her salad, muttering something about you having a motor mouth, “god, it’s just that… people have seen you two together a lot, you know? And with the way he’s looking over at you right now, anyone would think that he’s like… in love with you, or something.”

You’re sitting up straight and whirling around at that; following Yunjin’s previous line of sight, you’re able to pinpoint the said boy immediately— sitting a few tables away, catching him staring at you over his laptop, clearly distracted from his work— the moment your eyes meet, he flinches, hunching down so the screen hides him; it doesn’t work very well, and you’re able to see his downcast eyes and reddening face with ease.

Oh my god, you think with horror, a cold wave washing over you as you stare at him longer— and after a few seconds, he’s peeking back up from his screen, meeting your eyes once more and scrambling to hide unsuccessfully yet again. You decide to turn back around before anyone else around you catches on to this interaction.

“Oh my god,” you breathe out, meeting Yunjin’s gaze as she simply nods at you, her face screaming I told you so, “how long has he been there?”

“Like… basically this whole time,” Yunjin says casually, not fazed in the slightest by your horrified expression, “been staring at you for a while too.”

“Ugh, gross,” you groan, throwing your head back in defeat and staring up at the ceiling with a frown, “I think I might’ve gotten his hopes up too much.”

“C’mon, go easy on him,” Yunjin teases— your head is straightening up to look at her again, but a single glance is enough to tell you she merely finds this situation amusing, “it’s probably his first time properly interacting with a woman.”

“That’s even worse,” you mourn, slumping down and placing your head in your hands; a sudden reminder of your schedule is popping back into your head, and your peeking through your fingers in dismay as you relay the information to your friend, “and I have a study session with him today too.”

“Aww!” she coos, clearly having a blast as she grins, glancing behind you and undoubtedly at Beomgyu once more, “I’m sure he just can’t wait to see you again.”

“God, please shut up,” you whine petulantly, but your friend brushes off your pleas with a mischievous smile, “you’re making me wanna throw up.”

“What, you gonna cancel then?”

Silence. Any other day, you would’ve immediately jumped to say yes, pulling out your phone to text him and bailing like it was nothing. But today, you find yourself oddly reluctant to say this three letter word, unsure of why the answer is difficult to voice before you finally give in to the truth— your head slumps with defeat and you’re too ashamed to look Yunjin in the eyes.

“No.”

“Oh wow,” you hear her say, still blatantly teasing you as she laughs giddily— you don’t bother to react at this point, choosing to ignore the unspoken question of why you’re not ditching him this time.

“Hope you have fun,” she muses, taking one last glance behind you before she’s giggling to herself, “try to go easy on him, m’kay?”

Fuck, this was so embarrassing.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Today, you’ve changed up your meeting spot quite a bit; Beomgyu was thoroughly surprised when you asked him to study later on in the day, in a more secluded area on the upper levels of the library, telling him to pick a table and wait for you to get there after— usually, you tried to make your meetups as convenient for you as possible, choosing places that you could easily flee from.

When you finally come into his line of sight, Beomgyu frowns. You carry your bag with you, along with a troubled expression and tense posture, glancing around you continuously even if there was no one around, even if the table was hidden behind bookshelves— as though you were afraid of getting caught for something.

You’re dumping your things onto the table unceremoniously— and instead of taking your spot across from Beomgyu like always, you’re sitting next to him, catching him off guard and missing the way he tenses at the action— you’re scooting your chair closer to him and filling his senses with your scent, making him gulp thickly as he tries to not let his mind wander off; he realizes with dread that it’s really not working.

Beomgyu is a stuttering mess today; you pick up on it with ease, frowning at the way he continues to blunder through his explanations and having to repeat things to you multiple times, hands shakier than usual as he points out certain things in the text before he’s relating it back to the assignment.

“That— that’s one of the things the… the uhm, the professor said would be important to remember,” Beomgyu stutters, feeling his body heat up at the way you raise your brows at the sound of his cracking and meek voice. With one glimpse at your (clearly) judgemental and demeaning expression that you didn’t even bother to hide, Beomgyu is scrambling to get his act together.

It works, for a while; the two of you are left in silence as you work on the homework your professor assigned to you, and you remain unfazed at the feeling of Beomgyu catching glimpses at you from time to time; whether that be to look at what you had written down or simply to look at you, you couldn’t really bring yourself to care.

You’re snapped out of zone of concentration at the sound of rustling; a peek from your peripheral vision allows you to watch as Beomgyu has now begun to dig through his bag, wondering what he could be up to; with a roll of your eyes, you’re focusing back to the question you were working on, not bothering to glance back again even once the rustling has ceased.

Without warning, something is placed gingerly on the open surface of your textbook; you’re blinking in surprise before you’re registering what it is that has been put before you, brows knitting together as you wonder how you should react.

It’s a… mini paper flower bouquet.

You’re staring at the item for a solid few seconds before you slowly turn to look at the culprit. Beomgyu meets your intense gaze the best he can, putting up a confident front and fighting back the heat that threatens to engulf his face.

“Y–You— I heard you did well on your test.” He says, glasses slipping down his nose and bangs falling into his eyes, gaze flickering away for a split second before he wills himself to look at you again. Your stare is dead and unreadable.

“I never told you that.”

Beomgyu is losing this battle, his confidence visibly wilting away as his cheeks begin to get dusted with pink. His eyes are wide like a deer caught in headlights, unsure of what to respond as you give him a look that is expecting an explanation— his cheeks are now a bright red.

Even without his explanation, you both know how he got a hold of this news— and you’re thinking back to Yunjin’s teasing, the fear of being seen with him during today’s study session, and the flustered boy in front of you— and your mouth is running faster than you can stop it.

“Choi Beomgyu, do you like me?”

If the floor around you was already quiet before, it’s dead silent now; you’re even able to pick up on the stuttered breath Beomgyu lets out, his eyes growing comically wide as he simply stares at you; almost as though he couldn’t believe what you just asked of him.

“Actually, don’t even answer that,” you wave him off, choosing to ignore the way this seems to spring him into action, stuttering and failing to put together a proper sentence to tell you that no, he definitely doesn’t— you just caught him off guard!

But it’s not like you would believe him anyway, with the way he remains flustered long after you asked the question, unable to even look your way for the rest of the session, staring straight at the textbook and nowhere else whenever you would ask him a question— after a while, you begin to tire of his behavior.

“Choi Beomgyu,” you call out again, soft and dangerous as you turn to face him— he was attempting to explain a question to you, words dying on his tongue as he took in your sudden proximity— leaning in toward him, you tilt your head as you observe his reaction, watching the way his lips press together and his adam's apple bobs as he gulps softly; his puppy-like eyes shine as he waits for you to say something.

“Are you okay?” you ask him, your voice beginning to dip into that coy lilt that you’ve used on him only one other time— and that’s enough to have Beomgyu’s mind spinning, the poor boy thinking thoughts that he’s tried to suppress this whole time— your affect on him is beginning to show once more.

“You look a little…” your eyes flicker down beneath the table, a smile tugging at your lips before you’re looking back into the boy's eyes; catching where you were looking, Beomgyu can’t help but tug his sweater over his lap in embarrassment.

You’re leaning even closer now— your breath is fanning against the shell of his ear, the boy’s face practically on fire as his hands remain clenched and tense on his lap— he’s practically a statue due to your proximity.

“Distracted.”

Your hands are mischievous; curious, setting your pencil down carefully before they begin to wander, sliding across the table before it falls off the edge, nails scratching at the wool material of Beomgyu’s sweater before it lands on top of his hand that covers his lap— you grin at the choked breath of surprise he lets out from the simple touch.

“What— what, what are y–you—?” Beomgyu is about to bite through his lip at this rate, eyes wide and panicked as he watches your hand push his away, taking in the bulge in his pants as a flush of shame rises up his neck; you’ve caught him, but you don’t seem to be fazed in the slightest as you’re cupping him gently, looking up at him with doe eyes and lashes that flutter innocently— he thinks his heart might just explode from how quickly it’s pounding.

“Wait, wait wait— we’re in— other people might—” he’s tripping over his words, saying so much yet nothing at all, but the way his eyes skirt over the perimeter is enough to tell you what he’s thinking— yet all you see are bookshelves that surround and hide you well— beneath the warmth of your hand that has yet to move, you can feel Beomgyu hardening within seconds.

“It’s late. There’s no one else here right now,” you say sweetly, too sweet, a bit patronizing as you lean in close and coo the words directly into his ear— you’re brushing back his long hair with a gentle hand, tucking it behind his ears that he always seems to hide; they’re a pitiful bright red and decorated with silver piercings, absentmindedly caressing along his jaw with the back of your hand; his eyes flutter shut at the tender action, along with the feeling of your hand finally beginning to rock against his cock gently— and he melts into the chair, like putty in your hands as you watch his shoulders slump and cave into himself, his head hang at the stimulation; you’ve barely done anything, yet he’s already a mess— the sight surprises you.

“Go ahead,” you continue softly, hand cupping his jaw and cradling it carefully, attempting to get him to look at you again— and he follows your commands effortlessly, pretty eyes fluttering open and his head turning at the gentle push of your hand— and he’s looking at you with glassy, wide eyes, cheeks flushed pink and mouth parted as his eyes begin to flutter shut again— and your thumb is rubbing soothing circles along his cheekbone teasingly, leaning in slightly to whisper again, close enough that he can feel your breath fanning against the tip of his nose, “Puppy, look at me.”

He follows your command in a heartbeat; he’s met with another of your sickeningly sweet smiles, deceiving and comforting all at the same time.

“Go ahead now puppy,” you murmur, any movements of your hand ceasing entirely as you watch him with eager eyes, watching the way he seems to sober up at the loss of your touch, “take my hand off— c’mon, take it off if you really want to.”

A moment passes— he really should be taking your hand off, shouldn’t he? But his mind is clouded now and you look so pretty under the warm library lights, pristine and perfect as always, glossy lips and lidded eyes encouraging him with a deceivingly fond look— but Beomgyu loves it, and he loves the way you laugh mockingly at him, unable to control the way he whines petulantly and shakes his head, giving you your answer by thrusting his aching cock into your hand desperately.

“Good boy,” you utter absentmindedly, a compliment that makes Beomgyu’s hips stutter as you finally begin to inch up his bulge, careful fingers making quick work to undo his pants— and with one last glance at the deserted area around you, you’re slipping your hand inside and past the tight waistband of his boxers.

“Haah—!” Beomgyu is slapping a hand over his mouth and beating you to it, eyes wide and face even more flushed than before as he stares down at the way your hand disappears beneath the material of his boxers, expertly wrapping around his length and slowly beginning to jerk him off underneath the table.

You don’t seem to be worked up by any of this at all; your eyes are lidded with a slight boredom, a tiredness he’s seen at every one of your study sessions, watching the way you turn back to your homework and begin reading the instructions, hand still working expertly at his length as you do; Beomgyu has to press another hand firmly against his mouth the moment your thumb is swiping over his tip, collecting the constant arousal that collects there and using it as lube— you don’t even bat an eye at him during all this.

After a few minutes, you’re able to hear the slick sounds of your hand working against his cock effortlessly; the poor boy is aroused and leaking beyond belief, now sporting a wet patch against his pants that you seem to be dead-set on worsening— your pace is picking up and you don’t bother to glance at Beomgyu to check up on him, though you also don’t bother to hide the way your lips quirk in amusement at the sight of him trying (and failing) to keep his composure.

“M–mmh, agh— close, s’close…” Beomgyu stutters out pathetically, bucking his hips up messily and turning back into that desperate and rambly mess from the first time you sucked him off; his voice is deep and breathy as he whispers out these pleas to you, begs to not stop, to go faster, to—

“Beomgyu,” you whisper coyly, using this chance to finally put your plan into action, “Beomgyu baby, d’you wanna cum? Hmm? Want me to make you feel good?”

He’s nodding thoughtlessly; of course he’s nodding, his mind has gone blank and there’s nothing else in there that seems to make sense except for the way your warm hand wraps around his cock so perfectly, unable to stop the choked whines he lets out every time he feels you squeeze him teasingly.

“Then you gotta do something for me, okay pup?” you coo out, making sure to use the nickname you know he loves so much— he lets out a choked whimper at the sound, brows knit tightly together and hair falling in front of his face with the way he hangs his head— and you’re leaning in close to him again, breath fanning on his skin and your palm slapping his cheek softly, tapping at it to get his attention; it works like a charm, and his glassy eyes are meeting yours once more. “Puppy, are you listening?”

“I’m—” his words get cut off by a weak whine, feeling your hand tighten teasingly around him, “I’m listening— I’m listening.”

“Good,” you coo out, feeling the way his hips buck and he starts becoming restless, “now if you wanna cum, you gotta promise me something, okay?”

Anything, anything for you, he breathes out absentmindedly, and you’re sure he has no idea what he’s even agreeing to at this point.

“Don’t act like you know me when we’re in public,” you say sweetly, muddling his mind by increasing your pace, by doing exactly what you’ve noted makes him squirm and cry the most, “I don’t know you, you don’t know me— we’re strangers.”

You notice the way his face is twisting up in confusion; his mouth is parting and he’s fighting to say something, to ask why— but you’re not giving him a chance to, brushing his hair back and cupping his face, turning him to look at you and digging your nails into his cheeks to get him to meet your eyes; through the intense pleasure you give him, you can still see the hurt that swims within. You let out a soft coo at the pathetic sight.

“Come on, promise me, okay?” you pout, “you’re a good boy, right? You’ll keep your promise?”

His hips are stuttering and fucking into your fist again; you’ve got him pinned down precisely. Any coherent thought is fading out of Beomgyu’s mind and the only thing he’s concerned himself with is his impending orgasm, the feeling of pleasure that is only heightened with every string of praise you say to him.

“Be a good little puppy and say you’ll promise me,” you say, thumb swiping over his bottom lip before you’re pulling at it, dark eyes observing the way he melts before your touch and finally gives in— he’s nodding, you’ve got him right where you want him, and all you needed was a little bit of mindless praise. “c’mon, say it, say it and you can cum.”

“I promise,” he breathes out, whiny and high pitched and strained, as though speaking was a challenge for him, “I’ll do anything, please— pleasepleaseplease, let me cum, I’ll— I promise.”

“There we go baby,” you hum in approval, pressing a peck to his pouting lips and taking in the way his waterline is filled with tears that hang precariously, “such a good boy— my good boy.”

His hips stutter, rising off the seat, and you’re feeling warm spurts of cum land on your skin. His mouth is falling open and you’re sure he might just let out a loud noise, so before you can think twice, you’re pulling his face close to you and smashing your lips against his; he whines weakly into mouth, and you’re swallowing it greedily, kissing him languidly and guiding him through his high with praise that makes his breath stutter and his knees weak.

You’ve got him wrapped around your finger, and good.

It takes a while before Beomgyu is finally coming to his senses. He’s panting softly against your mouth, lips swollen and bitten at, his cock sensitive as the feeling of you continuing to pump him slowly suddenly becomes too much; with a shaky hand, he presses against your shoulder and attempts to signal you to stop. You’re pulling away immediately.

Beomgyu looks, for lack of a better term, absolutely destroyed. His face is flushed and his eyes are droopy with exhaustion, hair mussed and messy and his clothes in complete disarray; you look down, and you’re wincing in half amusement and half pity at the sight of the wet spot against Beomgyu’s jeans. He’s following your gaze, and if he could turn any redder, you’re sure he definitely would’ve; his ears burn.

Your hand is messy; his cum is still coated on your skin, sticky and incriminating as it sticks to your fingers and pools in between, a grimace twisting your face into a look of dismay as you stare down at the mess— before you can even think of what to do about it, Beomgyu is handing you a tissue.

His hand is shaky as he extends it out to you; your gaze is snapping up to meet his, only you’ve found that he can’t look at you at all— it seems as though the fog in his mind has already subsided and he’s realized what you’ve asked of him, lips pressed together and face still flushed as you finally take it from him. He turns away from you immediately, pulling his sweater over his lap and staring down at the disarray of textbooks and notebooks before him.

The silence is suddenly unbearable. You feel awkward as you wipe at your skin, even more so when you’re stuck with nothing but a soiled tissue and a hand that’s still undeniably dirty, the tension between you two now growing tenfold by the second as you finally decide that you should probably just go— it’s not like he’d be surprised by it anyway.

You’re opening your mouth to excuse yourself— to ignore the elephant in the room, to simply run away with a coy smile like you always do— but Beomgyu is beating you to the punch, and you can’t even hide the startled flinch your body does as he stands and begins to pack up hastily, shoving his materials into his book bag without a second glance to see if everything is perfectly aligned and neat.

You can only sit there and watch; it’s clear that your words seem to have gotten to him, and though you were expecting the awkwardness that would stem from it, you didn’t expect Beomgyu to be upset; your mind races to find reasons why, to try and wrap your head around why he would be feeling this way.

“I asked the professor how you were doing in the class, since you never seem to want to tell me,” Beomgyu finally says, breaking the tension and adjusting the materials in his bag to be just the way he likes it; he zips his bag shut in one aggressive swoop, and you can’t help the surprise on your face when he sends you a harsh glare.

“He says you’ve been improving greatly; said you were a good student from the very start, that you only needed to catch up on the materials.” he’s slinging his bag over his shoulder, pushing the chair in and taking a step back from your dumbfounded figure, “so it looks to me that you achieved your goal with our sessions.”

A moment passes— and your eyes widen slightly, catching on to what he’s trying to tell you, finding that you really want to deny the professor’s claims, even if they are true. But your pride impedes you from uttering a single word, knowing that it would kill you to try and coax Beomgyu to stay with you, to keep these study sessions going— and through this sudden urge, you catch yourself wondering why you would even want this to continue.

“I’m glad my help seemed to work— but it seems that you don’t even need it anymore,” Beomgyu finalizes what he needed to say, and you can see the way his shoulders practically sag from the relief of getting his thoughts across; his hand goes to tug his oversized sweater down, completely covering his lap and the mess you left— he grimaces softly.

“What? So that’s it?” is all you can say, watching his face harden at your words, “Just like that? What about me?”

His face twists up in anger— your words have struck a nerve, and suddenly, he’s remembering why no one wanted to tutor you in the first place.

“I’m sure you’ll do fine,” is all he says, taking another step back and increasing the distance between you two, “anyone would be willing to tutor you with the rate you like to offer.”

You both know what he really wants to say— just use your money on someone else to get what you want, like you always do. You find that you can’t really say anything to that. You remain silent.

Beomgyu turns around, and leaves; he doesn’t bother to say goodbye, and you’re left to watch his retreating figure, the hastiness of his pace and the way he continuously tugs his oversized sweater down over and over, even if it doesn’t move an inch.

That’s it, you tell yourself, leaning back against your chair, staring down at the display before you, at the notes you were actually taking, the work you were finally doing, you finally got what you wanted.

After a moment, the seat next to you is feeling a lot emptier than it did seconds ago; the room feels endless, as though you were left alone in this lonely labyrinth. Beomgyu’s words echo in your head, and you frown.

Is this what you wanted?

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Beomgyu has kept his promise well; you haven’t seen him in weeks.

Not around campus, not around the dining halls, not even in the library, a place you’ve found yourself actually attending regularly— not even in the only class you shared— and it seems as though he’s vanished off the face of the Earth.

You’ve found yourself thinking about him more often than you’d like; wondering if he’s okay, if he’s off at one of his many jobs again, if he’s resting— it makes you shiver with disgust every time you catch yourself, grimacing at the idea that you would even find yourself worried about him— and while you tell yourself that you’ve finally gotten rid of one of your biggest burdens, you can still feel the nagging feeling to talk to him every time you see his contact in your phone.

“Did you finally get him off your trail?” Yunjin asks you one day, when you’re busy checking the due dates for this week’s assignments online, making a mental schedule of what to work on first as you leave your food untouched; her words are snapping you out of your trance, looking up at her with a gaze that screams I wasn’t listening, what?

“Your little plaything— the loser guy?” she drawls, watching your face carefully, taking your small reaction as a sign that you’ve caught on, “did you finally shake him off?”

“I— yeah, I did,” you say apathetically, letting out a soft tsk as you’re looking back at your laptop, “finally.”

“Wow, look at you,” Yunjin awes, seeing the way your brows furrowed in concentration and you have yet to eat, too immersed in your course load to roll your eyes at her clear, mocking tone, “looks like he really did a number on you— I didn’t know you used your laptop for anything other than shopping.”

“Yunjin, come on,” you sigh, jaw clenching as you suddenly don’t find yourself in the mood for her teasing, “I mean, I know I’ve been slacking really bad recently, but you know that’s not true.”

She doesn’t seem to take you seriously— then again, no one ever really does, a constant in your life that makes you jaw tick and your eyes mentally roll— and she laughs, shaking her head and pouting as though you were a thing to be pitied. You wonder how much of this is supposed to be friendly teasing.

“Yeah sure,” she sighs, leaning her chin on the palm of her hand and leaning over to look at your screen, “Don’t work too hard though, it might hurt your brain.”

You ignore her comment; Yunjin doesn’t seem to care about your silence, doesn’t bother to gauge your reaction as she continues to poke at yet another of her salads, pushing the contents around with her fork in boredom as she speaks up again.

“You know, hopefully he has the same effect on me.”

This gets your attention immediately. Yunjin is looking at you with surprised eyes that feign innocence, raising a confused brow at your narrowed eyes.

“What do you mean by that,” you ask slowly, attempting to keep your tone indifferent as you speak.

Yunjin shrugs, as though what she was about to tell you next wasn’t of any importance— and it really shouldn’t be, but you still can’t ignore the way it makes your body feel like you’ve been shocked with a wave of electricity.

“I mean, your little tutor seemed to be such a good influence so…” she stabs at her salad lazily, bringing up the fork to her lips before she’s sending you a small smile. “I thought I’d give him a try.”

You bristle quite visibly at that; your mind is running a million miles an hour, wondering where this sudden idea is coming from, being friends with Yunjin for longer than you can remember as your mouth begins to run before you can stop it.

“You said your parents have tried to set you up with multiple tutors— the best in the country,” you say, brows knitted together as Yunjin simply shrugs her shoulders, raising her brows as if to say and? “You said you’d rather die than to get tutored— you said it was a waste of time.”

“Yeah… but…” Yunjin shrugs again, and you wonder how much of this is just an impulse from her as she continues, “I don’t know, my parents are on my ass again about giving me a tutor, and I don’t wanna deal with all those stuck up pricks they send to me.”

She admits her true motives with her next words.

“And I don’t know… he’s kinda cute?” she says, laughing like a schoolgirl who was embarrassed to admit a crush, “In like, a pathetic kinda way— and now that he’s done tutoring you, I’m sure he has a slot that opened up.”

Your mind is spiraling with things to say to her; you want to tell her to stay away from Beomgyu, to not try to mess with him— tell her that he’s a loser that isn’t worth her time, a nerd with an obsession with a lame game and the owner of a creepy bird— but you catch yourself, biting your tongue and taking in the way Yunjin simply looks at you expectantly; as though waiting for your embarrassing outburst, you realize.

With a scoff, you’re slamming your laptop shut— Yunjin flinches in surprise.

“I’m sure one did— I’m leaving,” is all you say, knowing that nothing would change, even if you tried anything. Yunjin scrambles to try to get you to stay, but all attempts fall short— you tell her there’s an exam you need to study for, and she sighs in defeat.

“You’re coming to the party this Saturday, at least?” she says, clearly annoyed at your sudden sensitivity, at your sudden change in attitude, “you promised you would.”

Your mind is attempting to remember what she could be talking about— then you’re finally remembering the event she spontaneously planned a few weeks back, telling you that she hasn’t seen everyone together in one place in so long— and while you found yourself agreeing excitedly back then, you don’t have much energy to do so now. But Yunjin is staring at you expectantly, raising a brow at your silence, and you find that there’s really not much of a choice for you. (There is, but you know there’d be consequences if you chose wrong.)

“Yeah. I’ll be there.”

“Perfect!” she beams, eyes crinkling and her hands clasping together happily, as though there was no previous tension between you at all mere moments before, “I’ll see you then.”

You merely nod, turning around and taking your food to the nearest trash can— you weren’t really hungry, anyway.

You can feel Yunjin’s eyes pinpointed on you the whole way out.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

You’ve always loved parties.

You loved to dress up, make yourself look pretty and catch the eyes of everyone with your pretty dresses and makeup done to perfection; loved the attention that came with it, the way you could let loose for once and not worry about your image, drinking and feeling your body become loose, mind finally being allowed to forget about any worries you had.

You were known to be a social butterfly; the pretty airhead that couldn’t stop talking once you got her started— always the life of the party, never one to cling to the wall and stare at the dance floor wistfully.

Standing before the beach house of Yunjin’s parents, one they didn’t use as much as they once did when Yunjin was only a little girl with an affinity to the sea, you begin to wonder where that part of you has gone.

You feel dreadfully out of place. You haven’t even gone inside yet.

Music is blasting and the windows are dark, save for the bright neon lights that come from an unknown source; Yunjin has always been a sucker for that club vibe, anyway. You want to go in, want to walk inside and pretend like it’s nothing, but this time, you can only stand at the bottom of the steps and tug your dress down a little more. You feel like a prude.

Deep breaths, you tell yourself— one in, one out, your chest rising and falling slowly as you try calm your racing pulse— and with a silent okay of reassurance to yourself, you will your body to begin its trek up the steps.

The door is unlocked; it’s not like you needed to knock to get in, anyway— only those with an invite even knew this party was happening. The place isn’t packed— nor is it meant to be— but it’s a bit crowded at least, filled with familiar faces for the most part; all people you grew up with or around, sons and daughters of influential families that grew to be nothing but partiers and troublemakers. In other words, your usual crowd.

There are some exceptions to these guests, however. People you’ve seen around campus, student athletes with a scholarship and business majors that have already found themselves internships to the companies others in the room are a part of— and it seems that no matter how much everyone here tries to pretend and deny, they can never really separate their personal lives from the responsibilities passed down to them at birth.

Your first instinct is to beeline it to the kitchen; in other words, to the makeshift bar Yunjin always sets up, an impressive display of alcohol and even a hired bartender making drinks left and right— you immediately ask for two jello shots, something Yunjin always made for herself and in extension, you, not in the mood for anything stronger as you opt to get this nervous energy out of you instead; you proceed to get two more a second after, just out of habit.

You should find Yunjin; let her know you’re here, make sure she doesn’t try to scold and bitch at you for promising to go to her party only to end up ditching— you’re sure she’d never believe you unless she saw you with her own eyes.

The kitchen is empty. The makeshift dance floor seems to be empty as well, spending a few minutes scouring the place and shrugging off any passing advances; with a heavy sigh, you decide that you should check upstairs, just in case, ready to make your way up before a rough hand is grabbing at your elbow and tugging you back; the smell of alcohol greets you before Yunjin can.

“You actually came!” Yunjin yells over the music, her face flushed from the alcohol and her balance off as she stumbles slightly; you make a quick move to catch her, eyes drifting down before you’re catching sight of the uncomfortable heels she dons— meeting her gaze once more, she pouts.

“I don’t even know why I wore these,” she groans, running a hand through her auburn hair, watching the way it falls back into place perfectly— she then proceeds to scan over your own outfit, letting out a sound of awe as she smiles, “you look great! Pretty as always.”

She’s muttering something else, but you can’t really hear it over the sound of the music; eventually, you find your eyes drifting away to the dancefloor, wondering if there’s anyone else you could recognize— your eyes lock with a particular, infamous athlete’s, one that you’ve been dying to get with since the beginning of the semester— and you’re suddenly thankful for the buzz the jello shots provided you, Yunjin eventually following your gaze and cheering at the realization of what you were planning.

She’s pushing you forward before you can even think things through; the man with dark hair simply smiles at you, coy eyes beckoning you closer— and with a deep breath, you decide to let go of any worries you had and go back to being your airheaded, carefree self— even if just for a moment.

“Hey,” he says simply, a hand going to rest on your waist; the music is much too loud for you to converse properly, but you don’t really seem to mind as you allow yourself to get lost in the rhythm instead— that, and because your tipsy brain has forgotten his name, and the low lights that obscure his face aren’t exactly helping either.

But it seems as though he was thinking the exact thing; he’s leaning down to ask the exact question you were wondering into your ear, deep voice and pouty lips that brush against the shell of your ear making you shiver— you’re muttering your name into his ear, tilting your head toward him to allow him to do the same.

Yeonjun. Your head seems to clear for the moment.

“Looks like we finally meet,” he grins, still close to your face in order for you to be able to hear him; your face twists up in confusion, and he laughs softly before continuing. “You’re just as pretty as I’ve been told— my friend talks a lot about you. You’re trouble, hmm?”

“Your friend?” is all you can say in response, placing a hand against his chest and leaning in closer, the music muddling his words slightly; his hand continues to hold you steady, and the two of you continue to sway to the rhythm.

“Yeah,” he laughs, staring at your face that’s twisted up in obvious confusion, “My roommate, Beomgyu? I heard he tutored you for a bit.”

His name is enough to clear your head entirely, as though a bucket of ice water has been poured over your body and drenched your figure.

“He— he told you about me?” you ask, mentally slapping yourself for sounding so pathetic, for feeling so curious as you stare at Yeonjun with undeniably hopeful eyes; instead, all you get is another amused laugh from him.

“Are you kidding? You practically traumatized him!” he jokes, though you don’t find yourself laughing along to that, lips twitching and a frown threatening to take over your features, “You’d think he was scared of you from the way he talked about you.”

You don’t respond to that; you’re not sure how you would respond to that anyway, letting out a weak laugh and falling silent as you look over his shoulder and fall back into the beat of the song— but it seems as though Yeonjun is too drunk, and frankly, unaware to take in your reaction, because he’s leaning into your ear and murmuring words that strike the final blow into your heart.

“He’s here, actually— Yunjin and him really seem to be hitting it off. Didn’t think he had it in him”

You chose to bite your tongue, biting back a bitter comment about how he really doesn’t have it in him to woo someone like Yunjin. But Yeonjun is too amused by his own comment to pick up on the sudden sourness of your mood, mouthing the lyrics to whatever’s playing and guiding your hips with a hand, a smile tugging at his lips as he sends you a wink. But you’re too shaken by this sudden news that you no longer feel the need to play along, much less try to hook up with him tonight. Now that you think about it, the once superficially important goal of chasing after the athlete before you had been pushed down the list of your priorities long, long ago.

“‘M gonna get a drink,” you mutter miserably, pushing against Yeonjun’s chest and ignoring the way he immediately begins to complain, untangling yourself from his grip as you leave with one final, half-hearted sorry!

Screw jello-shots, you think to yourself, stumbling back to the kitchen with sore feet, I need something stronger.

Something stronger comes in the form of a mysterious drink you let the bartender make for you; you didn’t exactly keep track of the ingredients he listed off to you, simply nodding instead when he asked if that’s what you wanted— if you think it’s strong enough, you replied with a smile, choosing to ignore the hesitant nod he gave you in return.

The speed at which you downed the drink was enough to have the bartender at your side with a water and a warning look— you ignored it, of course, drinking the water with a slight pout, only bothering to drink half before you were back to the dancefloor; maybe you could distract yourself with Yeonjun for a while, you think.

But any plans to track down the said man come to a glaring halt the moment you’re stepping out the kitchen; your eyes widen, surprised expression mirroring Hueningkai’s as he stands before you— his eyes scan over your figure, running back up and stopping at your hazed eyes and flushed face, the slight sway in your movement helping everything click in his mind; you’re a few drinks away from getting utterly wasted, and it seems as though that’s the path you’re getting ready to take.

“Didn’t think you’d be here,” Hueningkai says, watching your face scrunch in confusion, taking a step forward to hear him better, “Thought you’d be too busy doing another study date to come.”

“Shut up,” you sneer, rolling your eyes and scoffing at the implications of his words, “And why do you care? I’m surprised you’re not fucking a random girl in Yunjin’s bathroom right now.”

“I tried,” Hueningkai rolls his eyes, smiling in that obnoxiously smug way as he watches you frown. He leans in, placing a hand on the doorway and above your head as he reaches out to grab your waist; tugging you close to him, lips ghosting the shell of your ear as he mumbles quietly, “but she wasn’t anywhere as good as you.”

“You’re gross,” you glare, leaning back as you let your lips upturn in disgust, already knowing what he’s implying— asking of you— with a simple look at his face. “Leave me alone, I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Are you still mad?” Hueningkai asks, beginning his chase even after you’ve successfully escaped his clutches, ignoring him with a roll of your eyes as you cross your arms and make your way out to the living room, “you never even told me what was wrong, you just ran away and kept bitching at me.”

You huff; it doesn’t seem like Hueningkai will give up anytime soon, so you’re whirling around and sending him a pointed glare as you finally give him the closure he so desperately keeps asking for.

“I did tell you what was wrong,” you start, clenching your jaw at the way he immediately opens his mouth to refute that, “you treat me like nothing more than a fuck buddy, acting as though we weren’t actually friends before that! All you do is make me feel worthless, then you have the audacity to turn around and play the victim?! Like seriously, Hueningkai, is this all you see me as? A body to fuck?”

Hueningkai began asking you to keep it down the moment you felt yourself get riled up; volume rising, face heating up, you ignored him, ignored the odd looks you got from others, deciding that since the man before you wanted to hear your thoughts so badly, you’d let it all out.

“We used to be friends. We grew up together!” you say, feeling ridiculous for continuing to grieve the past, the days where things weren’t so complicated and all you felt for Hueningkai was a harmless crush. “I can’t believe I let you use me like this, just because I thought I liked— god, I’m so stupid.”

You don’t give him a chance to retaliate; you’re turning around and ready to weave your way through the faceless people and go outside, only making it halfway before Hueningkai is grabbing at your elbow and asking you to wait. His persistence garners yet another roll of your eyes.

“You what? Hang on, what was that last part?” he asks, trailing behind you and desperately asking for an answer— because of course he would hone in on that part. You continue to ignore him, tugging your arm out his hold and beginning to push through the crowd at the dancefloor— seriously, how many people did Yunjin invite? You seem to have severely underestimated the capacity of this place.

“You— did you like me? Do you like me?” Hueningkai’s last attempts to get something, anything from you are childish and do nothing but make your stomach churn, “Come on, we can talk this out, be mature about it— I can fix things, I can make it up to, yeah? Hey, don’t bail on me now—”

“Enough!” you yell, getting yet another round of side glances and strange looks from others; listening in like always, pretending horribly to be ignorant to it all.

You’re right before the doorway; so close, yet you know that if you leave now, Hueningkai will continue to follow and pester you— so as horrible as the timing is, you realize with a heavy feeling that now is your chance to do what you’ve been debating on for so long.

“Please, I don’t want to do this anymore,” you say, your words weak as you look right into his eyes— and everything surfaces into your mind once more, the innocent hope you once had of stealing his heart one day, “Let’s just end this— everything.”

The words feel familiar on your tongue, only this time, you realize that this is the person you should’ve directed this message to in the first place.

“We don’t know each other,” you say, jaw clenched at the way it takes Hueningkai a second to process things due to the music that tries to drown you out— you still catch onto the exact moment where it all registers in his head, eyes widening and mouth opening to protest— but you beat him to it, not giving him another opportunity to try and haphazardly fix thing, albeit momentarily. Your eyes meet his, and your heart wrenches upon seeing that he’s more annoyed than hurt.

“Don’t talk to me— we’re strangers now.”

The final blow is like a weight that is immediately taken off your shoulders; you reach to open the door and slip out. This time, Hueningkai doesn’t follow.

The air is cool on your face and a nice contrast to the stuffy air inside the house. Slowly, you make your way to the corner of the porch fence, stumbling over due to the soreness of your feet and the alcohol that still runs through your system. So many emotions course through you, seemingly wanting to bring about a wave of nostalgia and sadness, lingering feelings for the man you’ve just let behind— but you won’t allow yourself to cry over him, scoffing instead at the way you allowed yourself to foolishly bend over backwards for him for so long.

“Wow,” you hear a voice say, not bothering to look back as you immediately recognize who it is; Yunjin joins you, leaning against the fence and craning her head forward to properly survey you— you don’t bother looking at her, even more so when she finally continues,“That was harsh back there.”

You sigh. Because of course Yunjin heard that, and of course she’s the one to bring it up immediately after.

“Didn’t think you’d actually cut him off— I thought you’d always be like, head over heels, hopelessly in love with him— like a little girl, you know? You never seemed to grow out of him.” You glare at her, but continue to remain silent; she laughs, throwing her head back at the sight, only to wobble back slightly from the sudden motion.

“Oh come onnnnn, you know it’s true!” she coos, proceeding to poke at you teasingly and twist her voice to sound like you, “Huening called me pretty. Huening bought me the purse I really wanted. Huening wants me to go with him to dinner with his parents. Huening Huening Huening—!”

Her laugh is obnoxious, even after you’ve hissed at her to be quiet; she continues to mock you under her breath, drunkenly quoting things she overheard from your outburst, and you realize with a disappointed sigh that she definitely won’t be stopping soon.

“Heyyy, don’t get all sensitive on me now!” she whines, grabbing your hand and tugging you back when you attempt to leave; it doesn’t work, and you merely tug yourself out her grip, not even bothering to respond to her cries to stay.

Yunjin pauses her dramatics the moment you’re turning and leaving, scoffing at the way she offhandedly apologizes, words slurring together as she says that she’s sorry if you feel offended! You’re shaking your head at that, making your way back to where the stairs are, glancing back at the home one last time— and you’re freezing for a second when you meet Beomgyu’s gaze, the boy wide eyed and awkward as he stands at the doorway. Behind you, Yunjin cheers drunkenly.

“Beomie! Hey, could you tell her to stop being so dramatic? Like come on, I’m just trying to have fun,” Yunjin’s rambles are left unacknowledged by you both, and you finally find strength within you to walk away after a second; it’s not like you and Beomgyu had anything to talk about, anyway.

Behind you, Yunjin calls for Beomgyu to go to her and give her attention; her pleas fade from your ears and you’ve finally made it onto the beach, pulling out your phone and fumbling through your contacts before you’re finally ordering an Uber to pick you up instead— it was too late in the night for you to bother your driver.

The closest driver will be here in fifteen minutes; you’ll spend those fifteen minutes sitting before the ocean, clothes riddled with sand and body still sobering up slowly, your shoes placed to the side as you dip your legs into the water— fifteen minutes of silence, allowing you to ponder if these people are really the ones you’ve chosen to affiliate with for half your life.

You’ve become so entranced with the white noise of the waves that you couldn’t pick up on the approaching footsteps of another; it isn’t until the said person is sitting at your side that you’re finally snapping out of your trance.

Beomgyu settles down beside you without a word. You watch him for a second, taking in his appearance— he must’ve been dragged here, if anything, his attire not straying from the usual sweaters and jeans— and you look away, staring back out into the horizon as silence continues to drag down between the two of you.

“You’re not sensitive,” Beomgyu suddenly says, his voice so quiet and hesitant you almost missed it, “Or dramatic.”

You laugh humorlessly.

“I know.”

“You deserve to feel wanted,” Beomgyu adds, glancing at you from the corner of his eye, taking in your troubled expression and distant gaze, “...And, your friends are all assholes.”

“...I know.”

It’s quiet. You’re staring down at your feet, at the waves that slowly make their way up your shins before they retreat. Tonight made everything clearer than ever— why did you ever bother to associate with those people? Family and social status was the answer, but as you sit on the beach and away from the rowdy, ruthless crowd, you realize that you feel much more comfortable where you are.

“No one ever takes me seriously,” you say suddenly, staring at the ground and tracing shapes into the sand, “I mean, I never really gave them reason to; it was all just fun and games at first— since I was a girl, I mean. Everyone thought that because I was so obsessed with superficial things that I just didn’t have anything going on in my head, and I guess that was enough to let me become a joke to everyone. A pretty airhead who just thinks about makeup and clothes and purses.”

“I mean, I worked hard to get to where I’m at, y’know? There’s more to me than just that. I won’t deny that my parents and their wealth helped get me a lot, and I certainly won’t deny that I seriously slacked this semester, but I— I don’t know, I just wish people wouldn’t take the shit I say and do like an absolute cosmic joke sometimes; that everyone I know and surrounded myself with wasn’t so superficial and fake.”

Your mouth just began running without you realizing it, forcing you to spill everything that’s been weighing on your mind; you don’t even bother stopping yourself, refusing to glance at the boy beside you as you continue.

“And you wanna know what the worst part is? For a while, I started to believe what they thought of me, started to play into it if it meant them… liking me more. Ugh, that sounds so pathetic, seriously. I need to get it together.” You roll your eyes, tossing your head back as you scold yourself midway through your rambling, “I thought that if I acted all cute and stupid, if I just molded myself into what they liked, they… he would choose me. Would decide to keep me around for more than just a fuck. Would reciprocate years and years of pining and pretending to be cool with him fucking around with other people— all while he got all sulky if I even mentioned other guys.”

Silence. You go quiet for a moment, hand stilling for a moment, brows knitting together as you stare at the mess you’ve made in the sand; Beomgyu opens his mouth to say something, but is swiftly cut off by the sight of you sitting up straight abruptly.

“But I’m worth more than that, y’know? I deserve to have someone take it slow with me, to like me for who I am, to really take me seriously. Even if I act ridiculous sometimes.” You sigh, your lips twitching in a soft smile as you finally look up from the mess in the sand and at Beomgyu; his eyes meet yours, doe-like and wide as always. You laugh at his expression, and his face heats up at the sight.

“God, I’ve been really insufferable, huh?” you laugh, looking away from him the moment you felt your heart beating a bit faster, “I just never shut up, I’ve been told it’s really annoying— I didn’t mean to dump that all on you like that.”

“It’s alright,” Beomgyu says hastily, biting at his lip and averting your gaze as he continues, “I like listening to you talk.”

Your eyes widen and his words echo through your mind, bouncing off the walls and repeating the message over and over. I like listening to you talk.

Your mind seems to have entirely blanked out at that; how do you even respond? All you know is that your body seems to heat up entirely after a second, shivers running through your spine as you attempt miserably to find something to say, something that’ll probably shatter the mood entirely— but you can’t, and you’re stuck in a silence that grows tense as minutes pass.

The ding of a notification sounds from your phone; the two of you are looking down at the screen that lights up, and you immediately scramble to leave the moment you read that your car is here.

“I— I have to go,” you say lamely, wincing at your accidental stutter; you don’t give Beomgyu a chance to say anything more, wiping the sand off your clothes and giving him a half-hearted wave goodbye. “See ya.”

If anyone accused you of running away like a coward, you wouldn’t even bother to deny such claims— because it’s true, and you all but sprint away in order to get out of Beomgyu’s sight, eyes frantically sweeping over the street until you finally spot your Uber, sending a small wave and getting inside quickly.

“Sorry about the mess,” you say sheepishly, glancing down at your shoes that tracked in remnants of sand; slowly, the car begins to move, and you’re staring out the window and watching Yunjin’s beach house pass by— in the very distance, your eyes catch onto Beomgyu, who remains sitting still by the shore.

Your mind echoes his words to you, and you’re failing miserably to push down the way your stomach seems to be filled with a flurry of butterflies, the way your face heats up and a smile threatens to break through your face.

Fuck, you think to yourself, realizing with dread that you’ve only felt something this intense one other instance, many years ago.

Fuck.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

It’s been a few weeks since Yunjin’s party; a few weeks since you stopped talking to her, a few weeks since you dropped all your snobby friends you only made for connections, a few weeks since you finally broke things off with Hueningkai.

A few weeks since you realized that you might see Beomgyu as more than just a nerdy, pathetic loser.

You’ve found that you have a lot more free time these days; now that you’re no longer worried about attending worthless cocktail parties or going golfing to help Yunjin impress a CEO’s son who she’s had her eye on for days, you’ve found that your life has become a lot more peaceful— or rather, boring.

Your social life is nonexistent; what else did you expect, after cutting off practically everyone you knew? You’ve become a homebody, much more focused on your work and finding more mundane hobbies— your grades have never looked better.

Avoiding Yunjin and anyone associated with her was simple; it was nothing, passing by her and pretending like you two never knew each other, like the two of you weren’t once attached by the hip. It never phased you to be in the same room as her, not even batting an eye when she found herself sitting a table away from you in the dining halls.

You just wish you could say the same about Beomgyu.

God, what the hell has gotten into you? You’ve become a fumbling, ridiculous mess, not even able to look him in the eye when you spot him in the halls, in the library, in cafes; your body heats up and words get stuck in your throat whenever he’s so much as close in proximity, always finding a way to flee as soon as possible— you don’t even bother being inconspicuous anymore.

It was apparent to anyone who knew you that this behavior was a complete switch from your usual self— cocky, flirty, bold— and Beomgyu, who had to spend hours on end with you, knew that better than anyone.

He’s able to spot your odd behavior immediately. Though unfortunately for him, he’s unable to come to a proper conclusion as to why you may be acting like that, and simply decides that you must be holding up your promise still; the promise to act like complete strangers, that is.

Beomgyu frowns, staring at your back as you stand in line at the cafe across the campus library; you’re rigid, as though turning around and acknowledging the man behind you could kill you. Did you really hate him that much? He thought he made progress back at Yunjin’s party, your moment of vulnerability allowing him to see you in a completely new light— because after a moment of thought, after you fled the scene with an awkward wave and an empty smile, Beomgyu began to think; he really didn’t know anything about you. He didn’t even know your major.

All he knew about you were superficial things— and Beomgyu found himself oddly irritated by the thought, wondering if he was any better than the very people you were complaining about; it weighed his mind, finding himself prattling off to Yeonjun about it one day, laying on the couch and petting Toto absentmindedly as he stared up at the ceiling.

“She’s an architecture major,” Yeonjun said from the kitchen, looking up from the stove and meeting Beomgyu’s surprised gaze, “Yunjin told me once that she’s been working to try and get an internship at her father’s company— starting from the bottom up and everything. Heard it’s super competitive over there.”

You were a lot more hardworking and studious than Beomgyu— or anyone, really— gave you credit for. And as he watched you recite your order to the cashier, something so convoluted that the boy wondered if it was even good, he found himself wanting to learn more about you. You stood off to the side, staring down at your phone with a concentrated pout, and he wondered if he should bite the bullet and finally attempt talking to you.

Just as Beomgyu was mustering up the courage to say something, just as he was about to open his mouth, your name was called and you picked up your drink with a swiftness he’s never seen before, making your way out and passing Beomgyu in the blink of an eye. He’s left waiting for his drink long after, snapped out of his reverie by a text notification.

Huh Yunjin:

im at the library rn r u coming ??

dont keep me waiting :(

Beomgyu sighs, and trudges his way to the library with a pout; the feeling is reminiscent, but he can’t help but find himself thinking that it was you he was studying with instead. He spots Yunjin’s bright head of orange hair instantly, eyes glued to her phone and brows knitted together in a soft frown— and though Beomgyu apologized for being late and asked her to start without him, she didn’t seem to bother to even get her materials out.

Internally, Beomgyu finds himself rolling his eyes— But he’s masking that with a soft clear of his throat, his calm voice asking Yunjin to get her textbook out so they can start their session— and she finally looks up from her phone, bright eyes filled with confusion before she smiles sheepishly.

“Oh right, the textbooks,” she murmurs, looking over at the seat next to her where she’s placed her bag, then across where Beomgyu sits; his eyes widen at the sight of her collecting her things, standing up and rounding the table before she sits next to him— before he can question what he’s doing, she scoots her chair closer to him, shoulders touching as she sends him an innocent smile. “I… forgot mine… you don’t mind if we share, right? You said you took this class last semester.”

Beomgyu can’t contain the way he lets out an exasperated breath; he pulls out his laptop, pulling up his digital copy as he mentally complains about how unprepared and demanding Yunjin always seemed to be— he can’t remember the last time she actually brought her own supplies; if anything, Beomgyu was sure she hadn’t even bought her required texts.

And as he scrolls through the index in search of the needed chapter, he feels Yunjin leaning in closer; all under the guise of seeing the screen better, but Beomgyu knows better than to believe that her intentions are all innocent. And despite Beomgyu’s multiple attempts to scoot away from her, he quickly finds himself trapped by the girl again, frowning at the way she laughs at everything little thing he says and tugs at his sleeve when she’s confused about something.

For a moment, Beomgyu wonders if she might actually be hitting on him— but he soon catches onto the way she peeks over his screen after each attempt to be touchy, how she glances in the same direction after every soft coo of that same nickname that makes him wince— and he follows the path of her gaze eventually, not entirely surprised at what he sees; if anything, it helps everything click together.

Beomgyu spots you sitting two tables away, face twisted up in concentration and headphones obstructing your ears, head bobbing rhythmically as you scribble things on your notebook, glancing back at your laptop’s screen ever so often; he catches sight of numbers and equations, and he realizes that you must be working on math homework.

Without realizing, he’s found himself staring at you; this side of you that he never saw much, private and calm and hardworking, the image you said you wished others saw in you— and, as though you could feel it, you’re looking up from your work, meeting Beomgyu’s eyes instantly and watching as he flusters and looks away; your eyes then fall onto the girl who has him backed into the corner of the table, who leans into him and glances over you with a slight quirk of her lips— she sends you a small wave, then turns back to Beomgyu, calling out his name softly.

Undeniably curious, you lower the volume of your music slightly— you didn’t expect Yunjin to actually go through with her plans of getting Beomgyu to tutor her, and much less her lasting this long— you’re bringing up a hand to your head as subtly as you can, moving the right side of your headphone away from your ear slightly and allowing yourself to listen in to whatever it is they talk about.

While Beomgyu attempts multiple times to tutor her and teach her materials, Yunjin can’t seem to stop steering away in a completely different direction; asking him entirely unrelated questions, blatantly flirting and acting coy as she pulls at his sweater everytime he seems hesitant to answer— the sight is slightly amusing, but you can’t deny the way it makes you wince with annoyance.

“Today’s your day off, right?” Yunjin asks eventually, smiling widely when he nods, albeit hesitantly, “Great! You know how you said you’d take me to dinner if I got a good score on my test?”

You hear the sound of Yunjin’s nails clicking against a screen; undoubtedly searching for something, the soft mutters of Beomgyu’s you were the one who struck up the deal, making you bite your tongue in a desperate attempt to remain inconspicuous; from the corner of your eye, you’re able to catch the way the said boy glances over at you.

“Well… ta-da!” Yunjin squeals happily as she shoves the phone into Beomgyu’s face, allowing him to see her results for the said test. Beomgyu hums absentmindedly at the sight.

“Your place at seven?” Yunjin grins, poking his shoulder teasingly; Beomgyu doesn’t answer, but she chooses to take that silence as a yes. “Great! I have to go actually; promised my girls I’d have brunch with them— you understand, right?”

Instead of fumbling with his words and asking her to not leave so abruptly, Beomgyu simply nods and hums a soft uh-huh. The sight is enough to have Yunjin scoffing, slinging her purse on her shoulder and reaching over to grab Beomgyu’s chin— she tugs it and makes him face her, the action so sudden that his eyes widen drastically— and she smiles, squishing his cheeks teasingly and pouting at his distant behavior.

“Don’t get all pouty with me— I’ll see you soon ‘kay?” before Beomgyu can even process anything, Yunjin leans down to press a kiss to his cheek, feeling her lipstick transfer onto his skin— he’s slightly dazed, reaching up immediately to place a hand over the spot, staring at Yunjin with furrowed brows; she simply laughs and waves at him one final time, practically skipping out from how giddy she seemed.

From a distance, you watch Beomgyu quietly reach for his bag, his expression blank as he pulls out a tissue and his phone; you watch him use his front camera as a mirror, wiping at the lipstick with a soft frown.

From a distance, you laugh to yourself— the distaste that appears on his face is obvious to you, and you can’t help but shake your head at Yunjin’s ridiculous behavior; god, was that what you looked like whenever you would bail on him mid-session? The very thought was terribly humbling to you.

Yunjin’s attempts to get back at you by using Beomgyu were more than obvious; you think back to her actions, the way she blatantly flirted with him, the plans she suddenly tacked on him— on his day off, not to mention— and you roll your eyes, deciding that you might as well put an end to all these dramatics; not just for your sake, but for Beomgyu’s as well.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Beomgyu is groaning to himself the moment he hears a sharp knock on his door— the last thing he wanted to do on his day off was spend his time entertaining a girl who was clearly using him for some odd, petty reasons— but he got ready nonetheless, texted Yunjin his address hours prior after being told that her driver would come pick him up, (he hadn’t gotten a response in relation to that message, but she’ll probably see it soon) and waited patiently on the couch, albeit much earlier than the proposed plans.

Another sharp knock— Beomgyu wishes he had some proper excuse for her, told her that he already had plans with his roommate, but the said man was off on his shift already— he trudges over to the door, twisting the doorknob with a heavy reluctance, and sighs. He braces himself as he swings open the door to greet Yunjin with a halfhearted smile.

“Hey,” you pant instead, leaning against the doorway and ignoring his confused— and shocked— expression, “I— am I late? I thought I was early, did you get ready early?”

You gulp; since when could Beomgyu clean up so nicely? He’s forgone his usual, comfortable and casual outfits in favor of a perfectly pressed button up and a clean hairstyle— Yunjin must’ve planned to take him to quite the expensive place, you think to yourself.

“Of course you’d be the type to get ready an hour early,” you mutter bitterly to yourself, the comment enough to have the said man glancing at the nearest clock in confusion— and just like you said, a bright six o’clock greeted him on the digital clock.

“You— what’re you doing here?” Beomgyu stutters pathetically, unable to do much but relent to the way you step inside, closing the door behind him and turning around to face you, “I thought you didn’t want to talk to me anymore.”

“Yeah well, I lied.” you simply say, the words confusing the poor man even more, “I came to tell you to cancel your plans with Yunjin.”

“Can— huh?” he searches your expression for the traces of a joke, but finds that you’re dead serious. “Why would I cancel? That’s rude.”

“Jesus, can’t you see?!” You say exasperatedly, reaching out to place your hands on Beomgyu’s shoulders, fingers digging in so he can look at you— it’s only when he finally does that you continue. “She doesn’t want to do this— she’s using you. She’s doing this to get back at me.”

“But why would she…” Beomgyu utters, and you wonder with a roll of your eyes where that boy genius of yours went.

“Beomgyu,” you start, the sound foreign to the said boys ears as he blinks at you owlishly. You bite at your lip, brows furrowing at you think over what to say— you start again, but your words are hesitant and muddled. “She’s using you because she’s petty and because… because…”

He gives you a look encouraging you to continue.

“Because— god, are you really gonna make me say this?!” you break, letting go of his shoulders and taking a step back— your face feels like it’s on fire and your stomach feels like it’s been twisted into knots, your hands clammy as you glance over at Beomgyu again— and he looks at you with the most stupid, oblivious expression known to mankind.

You take a quick, deep breath, and you start again.

“Choi Beomgyu. She’s using you because I…” you say sternly, reaching over suddenly to grab his face, cupping his cheeks and taking in the way he becomes red at your touch. You bring him close to you, pressing your lips in a fine line and hesitating before you observe his face— and god, he looks so pathetic and lost that you don’t even seem to mind the way the next words tumble out of you, fluid and clear and true.

“Because I like you.”

Silence. You’re waiting anxiously in response, looking into Beomgyu’s eyes in anticipation, but all he does is stare. He stares and stares and stares, and for the first time in a while, you’re unsure of what to make of this reaction.

“And I’m not lying either.”

Still nothing. His skin is warming up under your fingertips, and his mouth opens hesitantly to say something, only to close again— he must still doubt you, so you decide to take a leap of faith and reassure him the only way you know how.

“I think you’re cute and kinda pathetic in an endearing way, I think that those glasses really compliment your face and make your eyes look super doll-like, and I don’t really mind Toto. I think he’s still a bit weird to look at but I love that you love him, and it makes total sense to me that out of all the pets you could’ve had you decided to get a big freaky green bird of all things, and I think it’s super cute that you’re attached to him— I think you look kinda hot when you get frustrated on a problem, and I think it’s really hard to hold myself back from kissing you when you start stuttering at me like an idiot— also, it’s really not that bad that you play League of Legends, and I can’t believe I’m gonna admit this, but I started playing it myself and it’s not that bad— but that’s not the point, what I’m saying is that you’re— you’re a nerd and a loser but I don’t mind because I really— fuck, I really like—”

His lips are mashing onto yours before you can process his sudden movement, rough and sloppy and desperate that all you can do is slide your hands into his hair and pull him closer; his hands wrap around you in response, one on the small of your back and the other against the back of your head as he pulls you closer still, close until your bodies are pressed flush together.

The two of you are so rough with your movements that he’s stumbling back, knocking against the wall and groaning softly at the impact; you’re sneaking your tongue into his parted lips, listening to the way he pants and moans against your mouth, slotting a leg between his and feeling as his thigh is quick to retaliate and press against your core.

“Mghh– ugh, fuck,” you moan mindlessly, feeling his hand press against the small of your back, forcing you to arch and push your weight onto his strong muscle, allowing yourself to rock against it desperately; your mind is running a million miles an hour, pulling away from his lips breathlessly and staring at the gloss that has transferred onto him; his eyes look dazed, lips parted and in need for more as he tries to lead your head back to his.

“Can’t believe she tried to use you against me,” you mutter, going back in to press quick, chaste kisses all along his face; he curls in shyly at the gesture, weakly grasping at your clothes as he feels the way you begin to trail them along his jaw, sucking and biting until you’re seeing the beginnings of marks that will bloom there, “shame it didn’t work— cause you’re all mine, right gyu?”

Like clockwork, he nods; his face heats up and he feels a bit ashamed at how quickly he’s melted under your hold, but any embarrassment is washed away the moment he feels your hand begin to fumble with his belt, clumsily undoing it before you’re moving to undo his jeans.

“Wait,” you breathe against his neck, feeling him shiver softly; he’s confused, whining softly at the sudden loss of touch until he’s watching as you pull away, glancing behind your shoulder before you’re meeting his eyes with a blank expression, “take me to your room.”

For a second, he’s confused about the sudden switch of your behavior— but then he’s looking over your shoulder and right at the direction you glanced at, a sudden laugh breaking through him when he spots Toto in the corner; sheepishly, he nods.

“Okay,” he says, smiling shyly at the way you reach out for the hand placed on the small of your back, intertwining your fingers so naturally it’s almost instinct, “yeah, okay. Let’s go.”

He watches you kick off your shoes and allows you to lead him straight to his room— he’s surprised you even remembered where it is— and smiles at the way you tug him closer by the collar the moment you step inside, palms pressing flat on his chest and making him walk backwards until his knees are hitting the edge of the bed— he falls back, hair splaying prettily on his sheets as he looks up at you with expectant, adoring eyes.

You’re straddling him immediately after; planting your core directly on his prominent bulge, taking in the way he lets out a broken whimper at the feeling of your heat pressing against him so well— his hands fly to your waist, fingers weakly digging into the meat of your hips as he attempts to subtly buck up into you; you tsk, shaking your head and leaning down to place a hand firm on his chest.

“Bad pup,” you say softly, hovering above his lips and watching as he desperately chases them, “You need to be patient, okay?”

He nods frantically, eyes fluttering shut the moment you press your lips against him slowly, feeling the way he desperately seeks to taste you— you allow him to, wandering hands beginning to unbutton his pristine white shirt slowly as he remains distracted.

Beomgyu is a lot more fit than you expected; lean muscle greeting you the moment you slip his shirt off his shoulders, leaning up to let him take it off and raking your nails down his skin— his stomach flinches at your nails scratch at it, and you smile childishly at the sight, the action reminiscent to the first time you got your hands on him.

“So pretty…” you mumble to yourself, tracing a path along his chest, down to his navel, watching as he shivers at your touch; a shaky gasp escapes his lips, hands grabbing at his sheets and eyes fluttering shut as he fights back the urge to buck up into you again— your eyes flicker up to study his expression, titling your head curiously as a smile tugs at your lips.

“You’re so pretty, Beomgyu,” you say again, leaning down to plant soft kisses along his neck, beginning to trail down until you’re at his chest— you’re able to watch the way his skin flushes a soft pink at your words, shy gaze averting quickly the moment you’re looking back up at him— and you laugh softly to yourself, hovering over his lap and trailing a hand down as you begin to undo his pants with ease.

“Y’know, I’ve never seen you so dressed up before,” you comment offhandedly, taking a moment to observe his pristine clothes, his styled hair— and your jaw clenches at the thought of Yunjin seeing him like this, an inkling of jealousy beginning to rear its ugly head the longer you think about it; you’re tugging at his pants, watching as his hips lift to help you tug them down more, and scoff at your wandering thoughts.

“Bet you would’ve loved to have her attention on you, hmm?” you say, beginning to roll your hips against his the moment he opens his mouth to protest— a sharp moan leaves Beomgyu instead, mouth falling open at the feeling of your cunt grinding against his, the only thing separating the two of you being your thin panties and his boxers that are quickly becoming ruined; his eyes flicker down to where you continue to roll your hips, the sight of your skirt riding up and bunching up at your thighs enough to have his cock twitch.

“Just can’t control yourself when you’re with a cute girl— just can’t say no,” Beomgyu’s hips jump and he lets out a long whine at a particularly harsh roll of your hips, feeling his cock slot perfectly against your cunt, the material of your panties soaked and sticking to your pussy, able to feel you better the more pressure you add; his hands fly to your hips once more, but instead of trying to guide your pace, they simply remain there, grabbing at your skirt and fisting the material in his hands, flushed face and shining eyes begging silently for more.

“No— can’t, can’t say no— ah!” Beomgyu begins, unable to speak properly with the sight of you on top of him and the feeling of your warm cunt on his aching cock, “can’t say no to you… fuck…”

His words are enough to catch you off guard; your pace is stuttering and your eyes are widening, the brief pause enough to give Beomgyu enough confidence to continue— his eyes are glassy as he stares up at you, thumbs absentmindedly rubbing circles on your hips as he speaks.

“Could never say no to you…” he says softly, face reddening as he continues, “you’re too pretty to say no to.”

He doesn’t quite meet your gaze after that; he’s too shy to, but with the way you immediately begin to undress before him after a moment, he’s sure that he must’ve flipped a switch inside you.

“God, you’re so cute…” you mutter, throwing your shirt off in a random direction before you’re sliding your skirt off— and Beomgyu is growing flustered at the sight again, practically malfunctioning from seeing your body for the first time.

You’re left in only your underwear when you finally decide you’ve had enough of his shyness, grabbing his face with a firm hand and turning it to look back at you; your nails dig into his plush cheeks and his eyes grow wide at the gesture, meeting your eyes as you simply give him a coy smile and a peck to his lips.

“So pathetic too,” you continue, watching his adam’s apple bob at your condescending words, “I love it.”

You lean close to his ear; slowly, you take his hands and begin guiding them along your body, feeling the way his breath hitches and his chest begins to take shallow breaths, shaky fingertips grazing against your skin, up your biceps until you’re leading him to your back, straight to your bra strap.

“Undo it,” you murmur against the shell of his ear, able to listen to the way he gulps softly; nervous hands fiddle with the clasp, the way you place chaste kisses to the spot behind his ear not helping in the slightest— and after a moment, you’re finally able to feel the garment loosening around you, along with a soft sigh the boy lets out.

The straps slip off your shoulders slowly, and with a coy smile, you make a show of discarding your bra, sitting back and watching as Beomgyu’s face turns impossibly red; his eyes are wide and his hands are frozen, unsure of what to do as you simply huff at the sight— and your hands are taking his once more, guiding them slowly until he’s cupping your breasts; he gulps again, and you pout at the sight.

“Don’t you wanna touch me?” you pout, tilting your head and watching as the man underneath you remains reliant on your instructions to do anything; his eyes snap back up to meet yours at your words, shaking his head softly and opening his mouth to stutter protests.

“I– I do, I do,” he says, licking his lips nervously before looking back down at your breasts, thumbs experimentally swiping across your nipples; you shiver at the feeling, the sight of even your smallest reactions making Beomgyu’s cock ache, “I just… I’m not sure what to do….what you’d like.”

“It’s okay,” you immediately say, absentmindedly guiding his hands to touch and caress your breasts just how you like, your back aching slightly at the stimulation, “I can teach you.”

“Please,” Beomgyu whines out, hands finally beginning to move on their own as a smile grows on your face, watching the way looks at you with needy, fucked out eyes, “Please, wanna make you feel good.”

“Do you now?” you tease, titling your head and raising a brow at him questioningly; he nods his head fervently, eyes filled with an undeniably desire that leads him to take your body in hungrily, trailing from your chest down until he stops right at your cunt thats pressed so perfectly against him.

His line of sight is terribly obvious— though you don’t think it was Beomgyu’s intention to hide his desires anyway, not with the way your back is suddenly colliding against his bed, a gasp escaping you the moment you feel warm hands prying your legs open; you’re propping yourself up with your elbows, wide eyes meeting Beomgyu’s; the said man kneels on the floor and is now at eye level with your soaked cunt— his fingertips dig into the soft flesh of your thighs, and with a soft laugh, you realize that Beomgyu is yet again waiting for further instructions.

“Can I taste you?” He asks meekly, eyes shining behind the lenses of his glasses, the sight endearing and a complete switch from the words that leave his mouth, “will you let me?”

Silence— all he gets in response is a slow sigh, the boy peeking through his lashes to get a gauge of your expression; he gulps at the sight of your narrowed eyes and pinched brows, mind undoubtedly thinking of scenarios that sour your mood— but the sight of you like this is much too tempting, and Beomgyu will be damned if he doesn’t get to lose himself in your pussy at least once; his cock pathetically twitches at the mere thought.

“I don’t know puppy,” you murmur, sneering at the way he pouts immediately, strong hands tugging at you and pulling you towards him more, body sliding at the movement— and though you can feel him breathe against your clothed cunt, he still refrains from doing anything, waiting loyally for your okay with pleading eyes.

“Do you think you deserve it?” you ask, throwing a leg over his shoulder, digging the heel of your foot in between his shoulder blades roughly— he practically keens at the feeling, a poorly stifled whimper escaping him, followed by a shaky sigh, “after seeing the way you’ll give anyone who approaches you all your attention like a slut, I don’t think you do.”

You make sure to punctuate your words with another dig of your heel, but Beomgyu remains unaffected— if anything, it manages to spur him on more, and you’re left to pretend as though his next actions don’t leave you terribly weak.

“Please…” he whispers, the sound so soft you barely miss it— he’s pressing a soft kiss to the inside of your knee, lips lingering on the skin before he looks back up to meet your gaze; his eyes are glazed with nothing but need. The single word continues to leave him like a mantra, unable to do anything more than watch as he begins to litter kisses all over your inner thighs, soft begs slowly increasing their intensity the longer you deny him.

I deserve it, I do; please, please let me make you feel good, promise you’re the only one for me— please? Please, please please please…

It’s quiet, save for the sounds of Beomgyu’s broken, repetitive begging— his hair brushes against your sensitive skin that has been peppered with endless kisses, and if it weren’t for the way Beomgyu’s eyes were beginning to become watery from his desperation, you would’ve allowed yourself to enjoy the show a little more.

“You want it that much?” you seethe, a hand going down to tangle itself in his long hair— and, just as expected, he lets out a broken whine, followed with an immediate, breathy “yes” that affects you much more than you let on, “Go on then.”

You’re guiding his head to your cunt without another word, fingers still entangled tightly in the roots of his hair; he begins with a soft kiss to your cunt, the sight making you roll your eyes— for someone so eager, he sure was hesitant.

His tongue is hot and heavy against your clit; he’s running the tip of it along your slit, listening to the hitch of your breath and taking in every miniscule reaction you provide— he’s teasing you, albeit unintentionally, and the realization has you tightening your hold on his roots in warning; you feel the way he lets out a shaky breath at the action, and soon after, his fingers are tugging at the waistband of your panties, making slow work to properly take them off.

Beomgyu’s every movement is feather-like and hesitant; it’s clear he’s testing out the waters, unsure of what to do in order to please you— and while a part of you is endeared at the messy kitten licks of his tongue and the way he circles your clit sloppily, the other part of you seems to be feeling much more unforgiving— you’re tugging his hair and telling him to look at you with a harsh voice.

“What happened to wanting to please me? To deserving this?” you mock, lips quirking to a satisfied smile the moment his face heats up, ears tinting a soft red, “are you too much of a virgin to know how to eat a girl out?”

His face turns a bright red and he remains silent— you can only manage a bewildered laugh at the sight.

Of course, how did you not piece it together before? It seems as though you were much too generous to give him the benefit of the doubt before, because as you stare Beomgyu down with a gaze that’s nothing short of predatory, you’ve realized that his silence tells you more than enough; He’s a total virgin.

“Oh, you don’t know anything, do you?” you coo softly, letting go of Beomgyu’s scalp to caress his face softly, a grin threatening to break through your face from the simple sight of the man melting into your touch, “you need me to guide you through it?”

With a shaky sigh, Beomgyu nods— it barely takes a moment before you’re pushing at the back of his head and guiding him back to your cunt.

He didn’t bother to take off his glasses; you didn’t bother to remind him, smiling cruelly as you murmur soft instructions to him, telling him to suck on your clit or guiding his mouth to lick at your entrance, responding with soft sighs of pleasure whenever he does something particularly well; he’s sloppy, inexperienced, and undeniably nervous, but you suppose he makes up for its with his eagerness to do well as he continues, slowly taking note of what makes your hips buck and your fingers tighten against his hair— and after a few minutes, you’re no longer instructing Beomgyu step by step, but instead throwing your head back and letting your mouth fall open with unabashed moans.

Beomgyu’s eagerness is abundant and blatant. He’s pressing his face against your cunt after having gained confidence, mouth sloppy and hanging open as he allows you to grind against him, feeling his glasses slip down the tall bridge of his nose and fog up with every pant of breath— but he finds that he doesn’t really mind, eyes fluttering shut and lips circling around your clit as he hones in to the sounds you make instead.

You think Beomgyu’s head is completely empty at this point; his fingers dig into your thighs and he continues his attempts to bring you closer against his face, greedy mouth drinking up any arousal that slips from your entrance before he’s fucking you with his tongue— your hips buck unintentionally against him at that, and from the way he only increases his efforts even further, you think he might’ve enjoyed that.

“Beomgyu— puppy, fuck,” you hiss, grinding your hips against his face, feeling the way his nose is now pressed against your clit from how close he’s attempting to get to you. Your chest heaves and you can feel a tight knot forming in your stomach, body beginning to become restless as Beomgyu remains unfazed at your sudden squirming— you’re close, so close, and Beomgyu wants nothing more than to feel you fall apart against his face.

“Shit– right there, just like that— don’t stop, god, fuck—!” Your eyes are screwed shut as a sudden wave of pleasure breaks through you, your hand pulling at Beomgyu’s hair and your heel digging sharply into his back as you cum; the boy only lets out a pathetic whine at the feeling of you rolling your hips smoothly against his face, mouth left ajar and eyes fluttering shut as he lets you use him, riding it out with twitchy legs and soft moans.

Beomgyu only moves after your grip slips from his head entirely; your whole body is falling slack, a deep sigh escaping you as you attempt to catch your breath, eyes bleary and slowly opening after a moment— you’re able to watch as the said boy goes to stand, a weak hand of yours stopping his motion and grabbing at his shoulder— and you’re guiding him to hover over you, smiling coyly at the wrecked sight of him.

His glasses are completely skewed— a slight heat burns at your face from the sight, but it’s all washed away by the lopsided smile Beomgyu gives you, entirely unaware of his flushed and messy appearance; gently, you reach out to slip off his glasses, putting them off to the side as you reach to adjust his mused hair next— he merely watches your face with doe eyes as you brush his hair away gently, tucking it behind his ear before you cup his jaw, tugging him down to kiss you again.

“You’re sure you wanna do this?” you mumble against his lips, hands absentmindedly running along his skin soothingly, lips beginning to wander off as you trail soft pecks against his jawline, smiling at the way he doesn’t hesitate to nod, “you want it?”

“Need it,” Beomgyu whines, letting out a shaky breath as he grabs your hand, guiding it down his chest slowly, adding pressure once you’ve reached the bulge of his boxers— you can feel the way he twitches the moment you touch him, gulping softly before the continues to plead, “need it, need to feel you.”

His voice is sweet and soft in your ears, and you find that you can’t really bring yourself to put up a front and resist; it’s physically impossible to, especially with the way he ruts his cock against your hand, leaking pathetically and twitching at even the slightest stimulation.

Beomgyu’s attempts to remain calm and collected falls apart the moment you relent, face red and eyes wide with anticipation the moment he feels your hand go to pull his cock out; he falters above you for a split second, teeth sinking into his lip to suppress a whine that builds up in his throat. But his attempts are futile as always, a broken whimper leaving him the moment you press the head of his cock against your cunt, tightening around the shaft and proceeding to run it along your slit teasingly.

He’s practically panting above you, fingers gripping onto the sheets as he allows you to toy with him, eyes glassy and meeting yours as you simply coo mockingly at him, teasing him for being nothing but a toy for you to use.

The moment you press his tip against your entrance, the two of you tense; a shaky sigh escapes you at the stretch, looking up at Beomgyu and whispering for him to just put it in already; and he swallows, eyes watering at the feeling of him finally pushing into you— warm, wet walls that flutter around him, stretching and adjusting to his size; your hips that jolt with every inch he slides in, eyes widening and mouth falling open as you try to contain your composure— but his size is no joke, and curses leaves your mouth endlessly at the feeling of him filling you up.

“God— you’re so… so warm, so tight,” Beomgyu cries above you, hips stuttering and making him push himself deeper into you; a yelp escapes you at the feeling, hips pressed flushed against his as you stare up at him with wide eyes, cunt clenching at the anticipation of him fucking you.

But he simply remains still, and you’re just about to complain for him to move when you catch sight of his expression, screwed up into concentration as he lets out a deep breath— probably trying not to cum, you muse to yourself— and he sits up, no longer hovering over you as his hands move to your hips, thumbs rubbing circles on the skin as he looks down where the two of you connect; he looks up at you, puppy eyes begging for one thing.

“You— you can move,” you breathe out, cringing slightly at the weak sound of your voice, the way you trip over your words; Beomgyu nods, sighing shakily again before he finally begins to move, slowly pulling out until the only thing you feel is his tip catching at your entrance— then he thrusts back in, and you don’t bother to swallow down the moan that manifests from that.

Beomgyu isn’t faring any better than you; his brows are knitted together and his fingertips dig into the soft flesh of your hips, voice pitchy and whiny as he attempts to fuck you properly— but his thrusts are sloppy and rough, and it seems as though he’s too concentrated on the feeling of you around him to find a good pace.

You’re opening your mouth to tease him about it, only to get cut off at the feeling of him bumping his cock against your sweet spot; a whine leaves you unexpectedly, the sound accompanied with the feeling of your legs attempting to wrap around his waist to pull him in enough to snap him out of his pussy drunk daze. He’s drinking up your expression, his pace slowing down enough to allow him to search for that spot again— it takes a few attempts, but once he catches onto it, he doesn’t relent.

“Sh–shit, just like that,” you whine, his thrust becoming more calculated as he begins to take note of what makes you feel good once more— though it’s still slightly sloppy and uneven, his weak pants and pitchy whines enough to tell you that his mind is much too hazy to care.

Absentmindedly, your hand snakes down to circle at your clit in search of more stimulation— only to get it knocked away roughly by Beomgyu’s, eyes widening at the action until he’s replacing you hand with his— and though you wish you could make fun of him for being such a desperate bitch, the stimulation has your voice getting caught in your throat.

“Does— does this feel good?” Beomgyu suddenly asks, puppy eyes watering and glazed as he picks up his pace, one hand gripping onto your waist while the other continues to rub your clit, “Am I– ah… am I doing good?”

You almost miss the last part with how softly he says it— but once you process his question, you let out a breathy laugh, biting at your lip in an attempt to suppress the smile that tugs at your face; you fail miserably, but all the patronizing look in your eyes does is make Beomgyu’s cock twitch inside you a bit.

“Does my stupid puppy need something? Need my approval?” you ask, pouting at the way he hesitates to answer, “I won’t know unless you tell me, baby.”

The pet names are enough to have Beomgyu short-circuiting again; his face feels hot and he lets out a petulant whine at the way you continue to tease, ignoring his pleading look as you reach up to cup his jaw, cooing his name so sweetly he’s unable to be ashamed at how easily he breaks.

“Tell me I’m doing good,” he whines, and you simply smile at him, stuttered breaths and soft moans the only thing leaving your lips as you notice the increased sloppiness of his thrusts, his erratic voice and face that slowly nears yours, hovering over you as he speaks.

“I’m— ‘m good, right? Your…” he trails off, punctuating his next word with a harsh, deep thrust that has you yelping, “your good boy— tell me, tell me I’m good, just wanna hear you say it, ah, wanna be good for you.”

He’s a babbling, whining mess, hiding his face in your neck immediately after the words escape him— and with a request so sweet, how could you ever deny him?

“So good for me,” you immediately respond, listening to the muffled whimpers as he buries his head deeper into your neck, wandering lips sucking and biting at the skin, “good little pup— fuck, are you close? Gonna fill me up?”

You feel the way he nods frantically against you, his hand leaving your hip to circle under your back, pulling you flush against him as he continues his rough, haphazard thrusts— and you turn your head to face him, pressing a kiss to his head before you lean in close to his ear, the sounds of your breathy moans and sweet voice enough to bring him over the edge.

“C’mon, cum for me puppy,” you coo, listening to the long whimper he lets out in response, hips stilling and pressing flush against yours as he follows your command, warm cum filling you up as he rides out his orgasm, cock rutting subtly into you all the while, “that’s it— such a good boy, so perfect to me.”

His chest heaves against yours; his other arm comes up to sneak under your body as well, successfully hugging you close against him, bodies pressed together and practically one with how tightly he’s got you in his grip— his cock remains inside you all the while, head nuzzled deeply in the space of your neck as you merely let out an amused huff, giving him a moment to catch his breath before you tease him again.

The moment of peace between the two of you is cut by the abrasive sound of his phone ringing, the two of you looking at the source with furrowed brows; neither of you make a move to get it, watching it continue to vibrate on the bed before it goes silent— you’re both falling back against the bed the moment in bliss the moment the ringtone disappears, and you can feel Beomgyu’s arms tightening around you even more, not expecting him to be so openly clingy—

“You didn’t cum,” Beomgyu suddenly gasps, head popping up from his hiding place as he hovers over you with wide eyes. You simply reassure him that it’s alright, already feeling your body get heavy with exhaustion— but he isn’t having it, shaking his head and standing back up as he looks at you with an unbelievably solemn expression, wincing softly as he pulls out of you, “No, I wanna make you cum— wanna feel you cum on my dick, wanna make you feel good.”

The words sound clumsy coming from him, oddly shy to say what he wants out loud— and it makes you laugh, attempting to tell him that you really don’t mind when you’re getting interrupted by the annoying sound of his phone ringing.

“Seriously, who the hell is…” you’re trailing off as you watch Beomgyu’s eyes widen, leaning over to snatch his phone as he reads the contact name, his horrified expression telling you all you need to know.

“Don’t answer it,” you seethe, ignoring the way he stutters about how he totally forgot to cancel, feeling a hot anger bubble in your stomach as he talks about how bad he feels for not communicating properly, “Beomgyu, don’t answer it!”

“I— what if she’s waiting outside right now—?!”

Your movements are much too sudden and swift for him to process; he can only watch and allow you to snatch the phone away from him, rough hands gripping his shoulders and hissing at him to fucking sit; he’s quick to comply, and you’re even quicker to climb onto his lap and situate yourself just how you like— he cries softly at the feeling of you grabbing at his sensitive cock, stroking it for a moment and aligning it with your entrance before you’re sinking down on him slowly.

“Who cares if she’s outside right now,” you scowl, digging your fingers in his cheeks and forcing him to look at you, swollen lips red and pouty as he merely whines at the feeling of you rocking slowly against him, “it’s the least we could do to get back at her for trying to fucking use you.”

His protests die down once you pick up your pace; oh, his face practically screams, eyes glazing over at the feeling of your warm pussy using his sensitive cock to get yourself off, soft cries leaving him as he merely watches you begin to ride him expertly, already feeling himself get hard inside you, the sight of you on top of him and the sounds of skin against skin riling him much more than expected.

“Hnng, wait, slow down please—!” he whines softly, hands flying to your hips yet making no attempts to control the pace— and you can only laugh at him, the sounds of his soft cries enough to encourage you more.

You’re close— so, so close, and all Beomgyu can do is sit and take it, tears of sensitivity pricking at his eyes and falling along his cheeks the moment he feels your walls clench against him— but he’d rather die than stop you, sp entranced with the sight of your face twisted with pleasure that his body screams at him to do what he can to make you feel good.

Like instinct, your hand tangles itself in Beomgyu’s hair the moment he latches his lips against your nipple, back arching and the tight knot in your stomach falling apart the moment his wandering hand goes to play with your clit; the way your walls spasm and hug him tightly is enough to have Beomgyu cumming inside you again, a pathetic keen sounding from him as he buries his head in your chest, beyond sensitive with the way you continue to ride your orgasm long after.

It’s quiet, save for the sounds of your panting and Beomgyu’s soft whimpers— but it doesn’t last long, a tired groan escaping you at the sound of Beomgyu’s phone ringing again; without much of a thought, you reach for it and finally answer.

“Leave him alone. He’s busy.”

You hang up immediately after— the girl on the other side didn’t get the chance to utter a single word, and you find that you couldn’t care less as you toss his phone to the side and look over at Beomgyu— you’re smiling softly at the way he seems mortified at your action.

“Oh come on, don’t tell me you feel bad,” you sigh, placing your hands on his chest and pushing, gently guiding the two of you to lay down— he remains inside you as he pulls you in close, your limbs heavy and tangling quickly as he mutters a soft no, I don’t; you smile. “Good. Cause I almost got mad again.”

He chuckles softly at that, falling quiet after; you look up at him to gauge his expression, finding that he’s lost in thought. After a few minutes, he meets your eyes meekly and finally speaks.

“Did you really mean what you said earlier?”

A pause. You said a lot of things earlier— but as you retract on every little thing that's come from your mouth, you realize what he’s talking about— and you laugh, reaching to cup his cheeks fondly as you nod.

“Of course I did,” you grin, pecking his lips, your heart fluttering wildly at the way he immediately chases after you for more after you pull away, “I meant all of it— and more.”

Softly, he smiles. His arms that were wrapped around you pull you in close, closing the space between you and bringing you in for a slow, sweet kiss— he pulls away, leaning into your ear to whisper something with a coy smile.

“So do you wanna play League of Legends later?”

You let out an annoyed yell and punch at his chest— you practically fuck his brains out, and this is all he can say?

“You’re such a fucking loser,” you mourn, hiding your face in your hands.

Beomgyu laughs, and places a kiss on the top of your head.

“But I’m your loser,” he says sweetly, nuzzling against your hair with a content sigh, “all yours.”

Under the covers of your hands, you smile.

All yours. You like the sound of that.

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icouldntcareless22 · 3 months

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LOVE VOMIT [n.] — the term when you become too full with your feelings too quickly and too frequently that you end up spitting everything out before even getting the chance to digest. this happens to you more often than you’d like to admit— every quarter, actually, ever since starting college. but what can you do when the prospect of falling in love is just too good to say no to? what can you do when maybe the next desert might actually stay inside your system this time?

or, wherein you fall in love with a different guy every season but fail to notice the one that’s been looking at you the whole year.

PAIRING. choi soobin x female! reader (ft. the rest of txt x reader). GENRE. college! au, orgmate! soobin, strangers to friends to lovers, slice of life, romance, humor, mild angst, comfort (no hurt), SLOWBURN, featuring some members of seventeen, enhypen, and le sserafim. WARNINGS. reader is shorter than soobin, swearing, drinking, kissing, unrequited feelings, annoying org jargon. WORD COUNT. 36k. TAGLIST. @stellz581 @michipan @goldennika @taekwondoes @cerealdreamwriter

NOTE. this fic is a five-in-one but it’s obvious endgame is (hint: look at the header). thoroughly enjoyed projecting all my past crushes into my dear tubatu boys haha i hope no one i know personally reads this haha.

some of the scenes were lifted from my own personal experiences HUAHAH have fun guessing which ones are real (but embellished) and made up for the sake of the story 😎. anyhow, this is long. this is slow. but i do hope the payoff at the end is worth watching soobin’s year long suffering when he finally gets the girl 😭 hope to hear your thoughts on this. enjoy!

reposted because tumblr is an ass.

THE TIME IS SPRING. A soft musk in the air, freshly bloomed flowers lining the sidewalks, and the start of a new semester. There’s something gentle about springtime, reminiscent of crisp blankets straight from the dryer with lavender seeping into its cotton folds, and sunlight leaking through pleated sheer curtains. The season is for cherry blossoms and picnic baskets, outings and first loves. You’ve always associated these things with spring, however none of these sensibilities are present tonight.

Keep reading

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icouldntcareless22 · 4 months

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❧ word count: 19.4k ❧ warnings: cursing, graphic description of blood and blood drinking (you know, vampire stuff), graphic description of neck biting so if that’s your no-go zone it’s time to make a decision here, mentions of death and dying (in the context of vampires) ❧ genre: fluff, modern magical creatures au, fantasy au, college au, vampire kun, human reader, ft. various other magical weishens, “uh-oh one of us drank a love potion” trope but with a twist, same universe as strawberry sunday ❧ extra info: this work is set in the same universe as strawberry sunday but can be read as a standalone! there is no continuing plotline between fics in this universe, they simply take place in the same world/magic system and may have overlapping characters (neos may pop up in more than one work!) ❧ author’s note: omg omg i’m so excited to not only debut vampire kun but to begin expanding the strawberry sunday universe! enjoy! ❧ sequel

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ explore the strawberry sunday universe more here!

“Did I just drink a goddamn love potion? What the fuck were you planning on doing with a love potion, exactly, anyway?”

“We were supposed to bring them in to test their properties in the lab. And it’s not just a love potion... That already exists, I wanted to take mine to the next level. That’s why Kun’s here.”

“I just don’t get this one,” Kunhang sighed, tapping his pencil against his laptop.

He shifted in place on his bed, reaching behind him to scratch at the middle of his back. You were sitting at his desk chair, going over review questions for your Calculus test tomorrow. Your friend kept itching at his back, and you spun around, putting your notebook and pencil down on the desk.

“I think we need a break, Kunhang. You look like you need to preen,” you declared, standing up and stretching.

“Yeah,” his nose scrunched up as he set his computer aside to get at his back and shoulders with two hands.

“I’m going to get something to drink. You want anything while I’m up?”

“No, I’m good. Thanks, Y/N.”

In Kunhang’s kitchen, you downed a cup of water first. Knowing that the gryphon would be taking some time to preen his wing and shoulder feathers, you opened the fridge to see if you could find anything good. It was barren, it didn’t seem like he nor his witch roommate Yangyang had gone grocery shopping recently. The door held mostly condiments, however you did spot a couple bottles of blue and red Gorgonade. The seal on the red sports drink was cracked, but it looked completely full. You didn’t mind drinking it if your friend had only taken a sip or two. After all, red was your favorite.

Carrying it back over towards his room, you called out down the hall, “Kunhang!”

“Eh?” His response was muffled through presumably a mouthful of feathers.

“Is this your red Gorgonade?”

“Huh?”

“Gorgonade! Can I drink?”

“Have whatever you want!”

“Thanks!”

You wandered around the living room, stretching your legs as you took your first sip. It didn’t taste like the red sports drink normally did. It had a more… earthy taste to it. Still slightly sweet, and a bit rich. But definitely not the normal fruity and saccharine flavor. Looking closer at the label, it definitely said Fruit Punch. You inspected the expiration date next. Nope, definitely well within that, by over a year.

Wondering if you had tasted it right, you took another sip, staring hard at the words ‘Fruit Punch’ on the label. No, still tasted a bit off. Holding the bottle up to the sunlight streaming in through the living room window, you saw that the color wasn’t quite right either, a darker red than normal. Kunhang must have left the bottle open in the fridge for too long and it went a bit off.

You were half done with the bottle by the time you heard Kunhang yelling from his bedroom. Figuring that it was him telling you he was done, you walked back over.

He was readjusting his shirt and fixing his hair as you walked in, looking much more refreshed now. You picked up a stray grey feather that was on the desk chair and tossed it in the trashcan with the others before sitting down.

“Where’d you get that?” He nodded at the bottle as you took another swig from it.

You tilted your head in confusion, “Uh, your fridge?”

“Must’ve been Yang’s,” the gryphon shrugged. “I thought you had found the blue one that’s in there.”

“Oh shit,” you looked down at the mostly empty bottle, feeling guilty now.

“He’ll live.”

A bit ashamed, you finished off the drink and set the empty container down on the desk.

You two had gotten through only a couple more review questions before the door to Kunhang’s room was thrown open, a wild-eyed, disheveled, crazed Yangyang bursting in.

“Have you seen my—” His eyes bugged out of his head when they landed on the empty bottle next to you. He looked between you and Kunhang frantically. “Which one of you drank that?”

You immediately went to apologize, a bit alarmed at how invested he seemed in this drink, “That was me, Yangyang. I’m sorry, I thought it was Kunhang’s. Look, I’ll buy you another.”

The witch winced, looking over his shoulder at something in the hallway. Another figure entered the room then, who you recognized somewhat. You knew of Qian Kun through mutual friends, he attended classes at your campus too, in addition to being a several-century-old vampire. Though you’d never asked, he looked as though he’d been turned in his mid to late twenties, but that presumably didn’t matter much once you’d been around for centuries on end.

Kun’s hands were tucked into the pockets of his crisp dress pants as he seemed to be appraising you. Despite being a student, the couple of times you’d seen him in passing, he had been dressed more like a professor than most of your professors. Today he was in a pair of black slacks and black knit sweater with a white collared dress shirt underneath.

You and Kunhang exchanged bewildered looks before the gryphon finally spoke up.

“Yangyang, what the hell’s going on?”

“Uhm…” Yangyang ran a hand through his hair anxiously. “How- How are you, Y/N? You know, we never hang out—”

“Yangyang!” You cut him off. “Did you do something to that Gorgonade?”

“Well, no…” He refused to meet your eyes, explaining to the floor. “Becauseitwasn’tGorgonade.”

You looked at him incredulously. “What the hell did I fucking drink, then?”

“Well, you see, I had this assignment in my Magical Botany II class, and one of the options was to create a botanical blend incorporating a magical plant we studied this semester. I’m a witch, so, easy A, duh.”

“Are you telling me I just drank a fucking potion?”

“Botanical blend!”

“Why would you put a potion in a fucking Gorgonade bottle?”

“Botanical blend!”

“Put it in a weird little vial with a ‘DO NOT DRINK: POTION’ label on it or something! What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“I ran out of glass jars last month! I’ve been meaning to run to the apothecary…”

“So you used a Gorgonade bottle?”

Kunhang cut in then, “Yangyang, what kind of potion was it? You said you had to create it; do you even know what it’s going to do to Y/N?”

“Well, I chose the lover’s embrace blossom as my plant.”

“Lover’s embrace…” you sighed, the vine immediately coming to mind. Mature plants bloomed flowers whose pollen would intoxicate those who breathed it in so they wouldn’t struggle while the vines ensnared them. You imagined it was exactly that pollen that the witch used. “Did I just drink a goddamn love potion? What the fuck were you planning on doing with a love potion, exactly, anyway?”

The three of you finally looked over at the vampire again. He stared back at you, his deep red eyes feeling like they were piercing your very soul. You had to look away, back at Yangyang.

“The love potion is attuned specifically to him, theoretically. Vampires metabolize things so much faster, so their blood may make the effects more powerful, but it should burn right through you super fast, Y/N!” Yangyang tried to put a positive spin on it for you, but your jaw dropped in horror.

“I drank his blood?!” You screeched, your hand flying up to your mouth. It took everything in you to hold back gags at the thought.

“Just a couple drops, just a couple drops!” The witch tried very hard to backpedal.

Kunhang looked between you and Kun. “How long should it take to kick in, Yangyang?”

“Like five minutes.”

“And when did you drink that, Y/N?”

“An hour ago,” you informed him, the same realization seeming to dawn on the both of you.

“And… do you feel any different about Kun than before today?”

You looked at the vampire, feeling almost sheepish as you had to shake your head. Sure, the guy was attractive, but you definitely weren’t magically in love with him all of a sudden.

“No, I feel fine. Normal,” you clarified, turning to the witch. Giving Yangyang a shrug, you didn’t feel all that sorry as you told him, “Maybe your potion sucks.”

“No, it should definitely work!” Yangyang replied indignantly.

“Well I don’t feel anything!” You reiterated. “So congrats on your F, Yangyang!”

The witch huffed, brows furrowing as he looked you over. “Yeah, you’re not acting any different. What the fuck happened?”

“If that’s all, can you get the hell out?” Kunhang requested frankly. “We’re trying to study.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Yangyang sighed. He turned back to the vampire, pointing to the exit dramatically, “Back to the drawing board, Kun!”

Kun still hadn’t moved from his spot as Yangyang was mostly out of the room, then popped his head back in.

“Y/N, you’ll tell me if anything changes, right?”

“I promise, you will be the first to know if your potion did anything weird to me,” you nodded firmly. “I will personally come over here and beat your ass for it.”

“I was thinking like a text or a phone call, but that works too I guess.” Yangyang gave you a thumbs up before disappearing from the room.

You held Kun’s gaze for an awkward moment, unsure why he was still here. Maybe you should apologize?

“Kun!” Yangyang called for him again, and the vampire finally looked away from you, walking out of Kunhang’s bedroom.

It was dark out when you eventually left Kunhang’s apartment, the review guide completed, and your brain just a little fried from all that math. With your backpack slung over your shoulder, and keys in hand, you took off down the sidewalk for the short walk back to your own home.

“Y/N.” A voice suddenly saying your name from right beside you made you jump out of your skin.

“Oh, shit!” You exclaimed, clutching a hand to your chest. When you whipped around to see that it belonged to a familiar face, you took a deep breath before greeting him. “Uh, hi, Kun.”

He remained quiet.

You kept talking, adjusting your bag strap on your shoulder to calm yourself down, “Sorry about all that back in Kunhang and Yangyang’s apartment, by the way. I know it was stupid of me to drink something in a witch’s fridge that tasted off. That part was on me.”

“Are you walking home?” He questioned, focus rather intense on you.

“Yeah, my apartment isn’t far.” You gestured in the vague direction of it.

A deep frown etched itself into his features, “By yourself? It’s rather late.”

“I know! What if another vampire sneaks up on me?” You gasped teasingly.

“Will you let me walk you home? Please?”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Oh, uh, sure. Thanks.”

The two of you walked side by side in silence. You shifted your bookbag from one shoulder to the other when your muscles got tired.

“Is that heavy?” Kun asked.

“I mean, kind of? My laptop’s in there, and a couple notebooks; Kunhang and I were doing this review packet for a Calc test,” you explained.

“I can carry it for you.” He held a hand out expectantly.

“Oh, you really don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

“Uhm… okay.” You pulled the bag off your shoulder and handed it to him by the strap. Honestly, you wouldn’t be too terribly surprised if he ran off with it. Him robbing you seemed about as likely as him randomly offering to walk you home and carry your bag for you.

Kun effortlessly slipped the bookbag on. It looked out of place against his slacks and dress shirt/sweater combo, especially with your multiple cute character keychains that you had attached to the zipper.

He dutifully carried it all the way to your front door for you, where you gratefully took it back. You were very excited for tonight to be over. Between studying, the potion debacle, and now this incredibly awkward interaction, diving headfirst into your bed sounded like exactly what you needed.

“Thank you, Kun, I’m just going to—” You cut yourself off when you were finally able to see his face clearly in the security light outside your apartment door. His crimson irises were nearly gone, entirely swallowed by inky pupils, and he was pulling at his shirt almost as if he were fanning himself to cool down. “Oh my god, Kun, are you okay? Your pupils are… blown. I’d check your temperature, but I don’t think vampires can run a fever, can you?”

“I… I’m…” He didn’t even finish his sentence, biting down on his bottom lip, and holding up a finger in a gesture for you to wait a moment.

You didn’t know too much about vampires, nor whatever ailments they could possibly get afflicted with, but you did know somebody who probably would. Bringing your phone out from your pocket, you started flicking through your contacts list, “I feel like I should call Renjun. He’s a Magical Creatures Studies major. Uhm, he was able to figure out why Dejun stopped producing fire for a weird two weeks last year. He might be able to help. Here, let me—”

“No, I’m fine. I know what it is.”

“Oh. That’s good. What is it? Is there anything I can do?”

Kun straightened back up, hand going to smooth out the wrinkles in his sweater that he’d caused by pulling it at. “I believe Yangyang’s love potion was successful in a way he did not intend.”

“Kun, seriously, I don’t feel any—”

“I do.” He cut you off sternly, focusing his darkened eyes on yours.

“You…” You breathed out, eyes widening.

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, I apologize.” He bowed his head. “I tried to control it as best as I could. But yes, I suddenly started experiencing extremely strong romantic feelings for you earlier tonight.”

“O-Oh.”

“I should go, I’ve seen you home safely.”

“Right, uhm, goodnight, Kun,” you nodded to him, too stunned to say much else.

You clenched your jaw not to make a noise of surprise when he picked up one of your hands with his much colder one. He bent over nearly ninety degrees to press a feather-light to the back of your hand. If you had a free hand, you would’ve pinched yourself to make sure you weren’t dreaming yourself into a rom-com right now.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he gently let go of your hand before taking a step back from you.

After fumbling to unlock your door, you practically ran inside. Oh, you were going to kill Yangyang.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t immediately start your literal witch hunt the next day, as you had to take your Calculus exam. In fact, you had mostly forgotten your dilemma as you walked out of your classroom with Kunhang and Dejun, another friend of yours.

“How are you feeling, by the way, Y/N?” Kunhang checked in with you, pressing the back of his hand to your forehead. “No sudden urge to dicked down by a va—”

You elbowed him in the side, sending him stumbling off in one direction as he cackled. “I’m fine, thanks for your concern.”

“What is he talking about?” Dejun raised an eyebrow, his slit pupils flicking between the two of you curiously.

“You really should’ve come to the study session last night, Dejun.” Kunhang jumped to relay the story to the dragon.

Dejun had the decency not to full-on laugh at you, but you did see a couple puffs of smoke come out of his nose as he tried to hold back his chuckles. “Yangyang needs to store his potions more responsibly.”

“Thank you!” You cried out, feeling vindicated.

“It seriously didn’t work at all? I mean, I don’t know what else was in there, but lover’s embrace pollen and vampire blood… sure sounds like it should’ve done something,” he mused aloud.

And that was when you sighed, “Well… it didn’t work on me.”

“And what does that mean?” Kunhang cocked his head to the side.

“Kun caught up to me after I left your apartment last night,” you confessed with a wince. “Somehow he’s the one that’s suddenly in love with me.”

“What?!” Kunhang grabbed your shoulder and shook you with equal amounts of disbelief and delight.

You swatted him away, “I don’t know! But I’m going to find Yangyang and see what the little twerp has to say for himself.”

“He should be getting out of Bot II in ten minutes.” Dejun pointed to a building off to your right. “Try to leave him in one piece, Y/N.”

“No promises.”

Kunhang and Dejun both had other classes to get to, leaving you to wait in front of the Earth Sciences building alone, arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently.

“Y/N, hello.”

You spun around on your heel at the familiar voice, now face to face with deep red eyes and dark brown hair.

“Hey, Kun,” you greeted him. He didn’t seem as… unwell as last night. His crisp white button up was tucked neatly into his dark brown dress pants, and for a brief moment you wondered if he even owned casual clothes. Small gold earrings dangled from his lobes, glinting as they caught the dappled sunlight streaming in through the leaves above you.

Feeling hopeful, you asked, “So… how are you feeling?”

“Much better, thank you for asking.” He kept his gaze on you as the two of you conversed. “I’m not, uhm, feverish anymore.”

“Oh, good,” you breathed a sigh of relief. So everything was back to normal then.

“I wanted to give you this.” In his hand was a folded piece of paper, and you accepted it from him curiously. It was crisp, fine quality, with a nice texture that you could feel as your fingers ran along the edges to unfold it.

Your eyes widened as you realized that he had just handed you a poem—a rather good one, if you were to be honest—written in an elegant script. After another quick skim just to make sure your reading comprehension was up to par, you knew that he didn’t just want your feedback on an assignment for class or something. This was a sonnet, if your recollection of your literature class from last semester was any good, about you. For you.

You looked up from the paper to Kun, offering him a nervous smile. “This is… really good, Kun. Uhm, are you busy right now?”

“I have another class in thirty minutes.”

“I’m waiting for Yangyang to get out of his class. He should be out any second. I think we should both talk to him.”

Kun nodded, tucking his hands into the pockets of his slacks. You folded the paper back up and tucked it into a folder in your backpack.

Eventually, a new rush of students began streaming out of the doors, and you scanned the crowd for Yangyang.

As soon as you spotted him towards the back, you hurried over to head him off. “Liu Yangyang!”

“Oh, Y/N! And Kun…” He looked up from his phone at you two, clearly surprised. “Is everything okay?”

“No.” You crossed your arms. “Do you have somewhere to be?”

“Oceanography in an hour. Why? Are you alright?”

Latching onto his forearm, you dragged him over to a more secluded spot of campus, Kun following behind. You relayed all the facts to the witch as quickly as possible, watching as he turned from confused to shocked.

“So it did work!” Yangyang declared brightly.

“Hey! Focus!” You said sternly. “You said that the vampire blood means it should burn up really quickly, right? So Kun’ll be back to normal soon?”

He scratched the back of his neck nervously. “If it was going to be a quick burn, it would have been over already.”

“Excuse me?”

“Kun’s the subject but you’re the vector—”

“Don’t call me that, it makes me sound like I gave him malaria or something.”

“I think—emphasis on think—that this is a two-factor potion.”

“A what?”

“Kun’s blood is doing two things: made it so that it’ll affect him, and by happenstance of him being a vampire, it makes it more powerful. And you drinking it does two things as well: since you drank it, you’re now the target of his affection, and because you’re a human, the potion itself is working through you, and humans metabolize that stuff much slower than say, a vampire.”

“So it’s supercharged and—relatively—super long lasting?”

“Is my guess.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, muttering under your breath, “Can this get any worse?”

Yangyang breathed in through his teeth, a rueful hissing sound. “Well—”

“Oh my god, that was supposed to be rhetorical, it does get worse?”

“It probably won’t even be an issue, Kun’s super old.”

“What does that even mean, Yangyang?”

“Well, younger vampires have a difficult time controlling how much they feed because all kinds of want sort of feel the same to them. Hunger, thirst, jealousy, attraction…”

“I’m living a fucking Twilight novel...” You threw your hands up, then pointed threateningly at him. “I am absolutely going to kick your ass.”

Yangyang held his hands up in front of him defensively, starting to back away from you, “But Kun’s hundreds of years old, so that’s totally not gonna be a problem! Right, Kun?”

Finally, you looked back over to the vampire, who had been silent through this entire confrontation.

“I don’t even live feed anymore,” Kun confirmed. “Y/N, I would never hurt you.”

You knew what he meant. There were other options for vampires now besides drinking blood from a live source, donor bags or synthetic blood replacements. To your understanding, vampires were fairly divided when it came to which they preferred—if they even had a preference at all, some didn’t care as long as they were fed, to those ones it was really whatever was cheapest and easiest at the time.

“Of course, Kun.” You nodded in understanding.

When you turned to give Yangyang one last piece of your mind, the witch was nowhere to be seen. He’d run off while you were distracted. How very mature.

“Alright, well, I’ve uh,” you checked the time on your phone. “I’ve got another class to get to. So, see you.”

“Can I walk you there?”

You had just spun on your heel to leave when he asked that, and it took everything in you not to show your ‘drats!’ expression on your face when you twisted back around to talk to give him some excuse. “Sorry, Kun, I really need to call my mom on the way there. I forgot to on my way to class this morning.”

“Oh.” His face fell, making you wince. It was sweet, but you knew that he was under the effects of a love potion, so really what was the point of entertaining any of this if it was all against his will? If at the end of all of this he would go back to feeling literally no specific way about you? And you’d look like the weirdo for indulging in it.

To his credit, he accepted your (bullshit) reason easily. “Of course, you should call your mother. I’ll see you sometime after class, maybe, then.”

“Maybe, yeah.” You wanted to slap yourself as soon as the words were out of your mouth. But it got you out of there quickly, as he seemed to like this answer, giving you half a smile, nodding, and not saying anything more as you took off towards the building that housed your next class. You were going to be about forty minutes early for it, but it was better than staying out there with Kunspeare at the moment.

Walking into the student union building after your second class, you meandered around until you finally spotted three familiar heads at a table in a far corner of the third floor. You plopped down into the open seat beside Ten.

“Were you guys hiding from me or something?” You scoffed, snatching a fry from Kunhang’s plate in front of you.

“Yeah, because I was hoping to eat all my own food this time,” the gryphon rolled his eyes, but made no move to stop you as you took another fry.

The siren beside you was drawing in one of his many sketchbooks—he was an art major—and you peered over his shoulder to see what he was working on. The whole spread was filled with pencil sketches at various stages of completion, angles, and facial expressions of what seemed like your entire little friend group: you, Kunhang, Dejun, Yangyang, and the final creature that was sitting at your table now, Sicheng.

Sicheng’s fiery orange and yellow eyes looked at you analytically as the phoenix sipped on his fountain drink. He set it down to look at you with a cocked head, curious. “Why were you so late, Y/N?”

“I had to make sure the coast was clear.”

“Oh, do you have a little bloodsucking stalker?” Kunhang asked in understanding.

“He’s not stalking me, he’s been very unfortunately, unconsentingly—on both our parts—put under the effects of a love potion. I don’t fault him for that, okay?”

Ten and Sicheng exchanged bewildered looks.

“God, Kunhang, did you not already tell them? I thought you would’ve gone around blabbing this hilarious story to everyone we know by now!” You snipped at him, dreading the thought of having to relive the mortification of retelling the events of last night over again.

“I’m sorry, did you want me to?” He bickered back without missing a beat. “I’ll go get on the PA system right now.”

You shot him a glare before delving into the gist of it yourself. “Long story short, last night I was over at Kunhang and Yangyang’s. Qian Kun was there too, Yangyang’s vampire… friend? Acquaintance? Anyway, Yangyang made a love potion and like an idiot, put it in their fridge in a Gorgonade bottle then left it unattended. I accidentally drank it, and now Kun is in love with me because his blood was in the potion.”

Their jaws dropped in unison.

“Uhm—” Sicheng didn’t seem to know where he was going with that, scratching the back of his head before picking his soda back up.

“Anyway, this man has gone like full 18th-century courting or whatever on me.” You held your head in your hands, replaying the moment of him handing you the poem in your mind.

“And they say chivalry is dead,” Kunhang pretended to swoon.

“Haha, you should do stand-up,” you said sarcastically. “Seriously, what am I supposed to say when he hands me a goddamn sonnet? ‘Thanks, sick poem, bestie?’”

“He wrote you a sonnet? Where is it? Can I read it?”

“I would sooner let Ten drown me than let you read a sonnet that…” you sighed, your voice getting smaller and smaller with each word, “describes the shape of my lips.”

You shuddered at the thought of your friend ever laying eyes upon something like that. He would never let you live it down.

“Aw come on Y/N!”

“Too late, I already burned it!” You stuck your tongue out at Kunhang, who just did it right back.

“Have you given him anything, Y/N?” Ten spoke up, setting his pencil down.

“I am not writing him a sonnet, Ten.”

“I don’t mean like that. I mean, have you done any sort of reciprocity? Given him any information about yourself? Engaged with him, genuinely, on any level at all?” He paused then, and you slowly shook your head. Your friend’s ocean blue scales shimmered just beneath the skin of his cheekbones as he turned in his seat to face you, reflective gold eyes focused on you. “Look, I know he’s under the love potion and you’re not, and I’m not saying you have to treat these as sincere romantic advances from him. But maybe try to approach them at least as genuine opportunities for human connection. Or, human-vampire connection. You know what I mean.”

You scrunched your nose up thoughtfully. “I haven’t really thought about it like that. Huh...”

“I think if you at least give him a little nudge about the stuff that you do like, he’ll stop writing you sonnets.”

“Yeah, I mean, he’s just going to keep courting you for the duration of the potion, Y/N, whether you want him to or not. Might as well get a car out of it or something,” Kunhang suggested through a mouthful of fries.

“I am not going to exploit him like that!” You scoffed. “And swallow before you talk! You’re going to get gross food bits on me!”

Sicheng wordlessly handed Kunhang a napkin.

After your last class of the day, you stopped at the top of the stairs of the Math and Computer Sciences building. If Kun didn’t mysteriously show up now, you figured you could easily get his number from Kunhang or Yangyang—though that would be inviting a whole slew of other issues.

But you didn’t have to worry about that. Just as you thought, you spotted Kun approaching from the direction of the Literature, Writing, and History building. To be absolutely certain, you waved at him, and he lifted a hand back, putting on a slight burst of speed. You walked down the steps to meet him at the bottom.

“Hello, Y/N,” he greeted you as he finally stopped in front of you.

“Hi, Kun,” you offered him a smile. “How are you?”

“I’m well, thank you. How are you?”

“I’m good, I’m good.”

“Did you just finish class?”

“Yeah, Number Theory. What about you?”

“Contemporary Creative Non-Fiction. Are you a mathematics major?”

You nodded. “Unfortunately. Thinking about switching. Though my mom might kill me if I do, that’d be the third time in two years.”

“Do you not like math?”

“I like it just fine, I’m being dramatic with the ‘unfortunately’ part. I just don’t know if I like it enough to do it for the rest of my life,” you shrugged.

Kun smiled at that. “Well, take it from me. You never have to do one thing for the rest of your life. However long that may be.”

You cocked your head at that. There were more questions you wanted to ask him. He was several hundred years old, and going to college, very possibly not for the first time. He’d most certainly studied and done and seen other stuff, and you wanted to hear about it. Ten’s suggestion came to mind. An opportunity for a genuine connection.

“Do you eat food, Kun?” You asked.

“Yes, sometimes. I don’t need it to live like you, but I do enjoy it on occasion.”

“I was about to go to this bakery that I really like. Do you want to come?”

“I would love nothing more,” he answered simply, and you could hear his earnest sincerity in his words.

Kun held the door to Half Moon Bakery open for you, and you thanked him quietly as you stepped through. The warm, sweet smells immediately wafted to your nose as you walked in. A couple of customers were sitting at the small tables they had, but your eyes were on the display cases filled with loaves of bread, muffins, and baked sweet treats.

“Oh hi Y/N!” The familiar cashier behind the counter greeted you brightly, his eyes turning into crescents with his smile.

“Hey, Jeno. How are you?” You pulled your gaze from the food to beam back at him.

“I’m great! Ooh, we’ve got a new limited-edition brownie, it’s got mini peanut butter cups and swirls of peanut butter!” The werewolf informed you excitedly, and you could practically imagine a tail wagging back and forth behind him.

“Was that your idea?” You asked knowingly.

“I might have suggested something…”

“Of course you did.” You chuckled. “It sounds good, but I’m just going to get a—”

“A matcha cream-filled croissant. I know.” Jeno finished your usual order knowingly. He then looked to Kun curiously, “And what about you?”

“A blueberry lemon scone, please. And I’ll pay for both.”

You were about to object, to insist on paying for your own food, but stopped yourself. Reciprocity. You’d have to walk this line carefully, but you guessed you’d have a harder time trying to get Kun to not pay for your food, and really your goal was to stop getting sonnets from the guy.

Jeno immediately grabbed your croissant from the case and handed it to you on a small dish painted to look like a waxing moon. Kun’s scone had to be warned up, so the two of you sat down while you waited for it to be brought out.

“So do you come here a lot?” Kun asked.

“Yeah, usually like… once a week probably?” You guessed. “I used to come three times a week last semester, between these two Monday-Wednesday-Friday classes I had. They were two hours apart so I couldn’t quite go home, but I hated staying on campus during that time. So I’d usually come here, get a matcha croissant, do some homework or whatever. That’s how I know Jeno.”

“It’s lovely here. I can see why you like it.” The vampire appraised, looking around at the celestial themed décor.

“Wait until you try the food. Then you’ll really understand why I like it so much.”

Jeno came out then with Kun’s order on a half-moon painted dish, setting it down in front of him. Once the werewolf was back behind the counter, you eagerly picked up your croissant and bit into it. Immediately, you had found the creamy center, a happy noise coming from the back of your throat.

Setting the pastry down, you looked back at Kun, feeling a bit self-conscious when you realized that he hadn’t started eating yet and was instead watching you eat.

“What, Kun?”

“Nothing,” he shook his head, a tender smile on his lips. “I think that what you did just now was very cute.”

You crossed your arms and leaned your elbows forward on the table. “Fine. If you’re going to stare at me while I eat, I’m going to stare at you while you eat. Go on, take a bite.”

The vampire picked up the scone. “I suppose that is only fair. I don’t think I’ll be nearly as adorable as you were, however.”

Fighting back the flustered smile threatening to overtake your features, you instead laced your hands together in a business-like manner. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

Kun didn’t argue further, bringing the baked good to his mouth. He took a bite, and you watched eagerly as his expression changed into one of surprised delight. After swallowing, he wiped his mouth then spoke again.

“That is… exquisite.”

“I know.”

“Now I really do understand why you come here so frequently.”

“Uh-huh,” you grinned cockily, picking your croissant back up.

Once he got over his initial shock of how good the scone was, Kun engaged you in conversation. “So how is your mother?”

Right. Your supposed phone call that you had to make earlier. Well, time to fib a little. “Oh, she’s good. She’s trying to grow an herb garden, not going so well.”

Not a complete lie, that’s what she had told you when you called her last week. Hopefully your heart rate didn’t jump enough to make Kun suspicious if he was paying close attention.

“I’m glad you got to speak with her.”

The wistful look on Kun’s face made you briefly wonder about his family. Were they vampires too? When was the last time he got to speak to his mom?

“Is your mom…?”

“My mother passed quite some time ago. She remained a human. My father too.”

“I’m sorry, Kun.”

“For what?”

You frowned as you tried to think of an answer. What were you sorry for? His parents passing? Asking that question in the first place? “I… don’t know. I just am. That’s usually what we say when we hear that somebody passed away, you know? ‘I’m sorry for your loss.’”

“I passed away too. How else would I have become a vampire?” He pointed out, lightening the mood a little.

“Well then I’m sorry for your loss of you.” You laughed, earning a chuckle from Kun as well.

“Thank you. The sentiments are greatly appreciated.”

“So what are you studying, Kun? You said you had come from a non-fiction class? Was that lit or writing?”

“Contemporary Creative Non-Fiction. It was literature. I’m an Interdisciplinary major, one of my concentrations is Literature.”

“And the other?”

“History.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, “That just doesn’t sound fair to the other students. Or the professor.”

He smiled a little. “I am doing the Ancient History track. I’m not that old.”

“Speaking of—” You reclined back in your seat to study the vampire leisurely. “This can’t be your first time going to university. Right?”

“You’re correct, this is not. I have been before.”

“How many times?”

Kun hesitated. “It would be impolite for me to answer. I’m afraid it’d sound like bragging.”

“Kun, let’s make a deal.” You shifted forward again, holding his dark red gaze unwaveringly. “I understand that you have been alive for a few hundred years and have therefore experienced more things than I could possibly imagine. That’s exactly why I’m asking you these questions. So how about you trust that when I ask you a question, it’s because I have thought about it, and have decided that I really do want to know your honest answer, no matter how braggy it might sound. And I will trust that your answer is sincere and honest and not meant to be a brag in any way shape or form, and that you have really just lived your life for so long. Does that sound good?”

At the end of your proposition, you stuck your hand out in the middle of the table, waiting. Kun eyed it for a moment before sucking in a deep breath, taking your hand in his cool grasp, and shaking it.

“I accept the terms of your proposal, Y/N.”

“Pleasure doing business with you,” you grinned at him, taking your hand back. “Now, tell me about your three hundred degrees or whatever.”

“It’s not that many, really,” he seemed almost flustered, readjusting his collar for a moment. “And I’m not sure if I can remember all of them off the top of my head.”

“I’ll take what I can get.”

“Let me see… I have gone to medical school.”

“Oh wow—”

“But that was when bloodletting was still an accepted practice, I haven’t been lately.” Kun admitted sheepishly, drumming his fingers on the table as he thought some more. “Then there was astronomy, Latin, mathematics, musical composition, psychology, literature the first time, and I started law school but then the war happened…”

“War?” You echoed in bewilderment.

“I didn’t participate,” he assured you, as if that was the only thing you were possibly confused about. “But it did disrupt my studies. I never ended up going back, which is alright, I didn’t care much for law.”

“Don’t you get bored of it all? I mean, you must be a pro at everything there is.”

“No, not at all. They’re always creating new things to do.”

At your surely skeptical look, Kun continued eagerly, “For example, I learned to oil paint two hundred years ago, but there’s digital painting now. I learned how to sail a hundred years ago, but there are planes to fly now. I can play practically every instrument in a classical orchestra, but there are entirely new ways to make music that are contained completely within a computer, that I have to learn programs, software, new tools to compose on. It’s wonderful. That’s why I like to go back to school, there’s always new fields emerging, new things to learn. And even the fields that I have already have degrees in, like medicine, have made leaps and bounds since the last time I studied.”

His face was bright and animated as he raved about all of this to you, and you felt a fond smile tug at the corner of your mouth as you listened. His perspective was so… refreshing. You had honestly expected more nihilism and angst from a several hundred year old vampire who already held at least half a dozen degrees and had witnessed who knows how many historical events. But it seemed that all those years had done was make him eager to live even more.

“And you’re not... exhausted by that idea? That you’ll never be done with everything?”

“No, not at all,” he cocked his head to the side. “If I finished everything now, that’d make for a very boring eternity.”

“I like that, Kun,” you declared, picking your croissant up. “I really do.”

“Y/N, while I am very glad that you invited me out with you, and I hope you don’t take this as any sort of complaint, I am wondering…” Kun tapped his fingernail against the side of his plate as he seemed to be thinking of how to phrase whatever he wanted to ask next. “You seemed rather… freaked out last night. I do know that you and I don’t know each other well, the love potion didn’t erase my memories. I also understand that what I’m feeling is the effects of a potion. So, why the change of heart on your part?”

After swallowing the bite you’d just taken, you sighed, setting your pastry back down. “For one, I don’t want to be needlessly cruel to you. Even if you are under a love potion, I don’t think that’s an excuse to be rude and dismissive. And, I admittedly don’t know a lot about vampires. I think I’ve only met like one before. I just wanted to talk to you. Is that… okay?”

“Yeah,” he smiled softly. “Of course. I already agreed, you can ask me whatever you want.”

“Great. Because I’ve been thinking, can you get sued for turning somebody who didn’t want to be turned? Would that be a wrongful death case? Or… wrongful life?”

Kun looked at you with something that you could only call astonished adoration. His jaw dropped before his features split into a wide grin, and his shoulders started shaking as he was overtaken by giggles that he then tried to cover with his hand.

“It’s a real question!” You tried to be indignant, but you were far too surprised and endeared by the image of the previously stoic and mature vampire breaking down into giggles in front of you.

He straightened back up, physically wiping the smile off of his face. “Of course, of course it is. Please don’t think I was doing anything less than taking you seriously. I’m just… delighted by how your mind works. I’ve had plenty of people question me about vampires and being a vampire, and that has never been one of their go-to questions. Or any of their questions at all. I’m looking forward to what else you’ll ask me.”

“Well, you need to answer this one first before you can get to any of my other galaxy-brain level questions I’ve got in here.” You tapped your temple sarcastically.

“You’re right, my apologies.” Kun laced his fingers together and leaned forward against the table. “I’m not sure about the civil liability of turning someone against their will, I would have to do some research before I’d be comfortable answering your question. However, governments have tried to criminalize the turning of vampires over the years, to mixed results. Right now, it is illegal to turn someone against their will.”

“How do you prove that someone was turned willingly or not?”

“Unicorns of course help investigations to some degree. I’ve also seen some vampires have their prospective fledglings sign contracts.”

“Pfff,” you couldn’t help the burst of laughter that you let out. “Now that just takes all the romance out of it.”

“The contracts are usually only between service vampires and their clientele.”

“I’m sorry, service vampires?” You repeated incredulously.

“Those that turn others in exchange for financial compensation.”

“Sorry, I should really start paying attention when Renjun goes on his tangents, he’s probably talked about this before. Then you wouldn’t have to give me an impromptu lecture on the socioeconomic standing of vampires in modern day.”

“I don’t mind. I enjoy spending time with you, Y/N.”

You fidgeted with a napkin, looking away from his suddenly too-intense eyes. “Uhm— it’s just that term made it sound like they were escorts or something.”

“Some are,” he replied casually. “Service vampires are a heavily regulated industry, since they’re also responsible for the fledgling they produce, ensuring they don’t kill anybody. That process requires more than a contract, you need a lot of trust to help them control their desires. That trust goes both ways, of course, so those who aren’t service vampires—which is most vampires—will only turn close family and friends.”

You looked back up at him, squinting your eyes inquisitively. “Have you turned anybody, Kun?”

He pressed his lips together for a pensive moment before he answered. “I’ve… considered it. But by the time I had found someone who I could contemplate eternity with, I’d already seen far too many fledglings, too many turnings that went horribly wrong. I understood the risk, but I wasn’t sure if they did. And that was also at a time when vampires themselves weren’t outright illegal, but fledglings were to be killed on sight.”

“Oh— Oh, God.” You breathed out.

“Mature vampires were considered to be in control of our feedings, fledglings weren’t. And, they didn’t really want us going around making more of us.”

“The person you were going to turn…”

Kun looked up at a silver star decoration hanging above your table. “It ended up being for the best, I suppose. We parted ways some years later, less than amicably.”

“Ugh, I couldn’t imagine having to have awkward run-ins with your ex for literally forever,” you joked, attempting to lighten the mood.

He laughed. “Yes, I do actually have some old friends who were married before they turned several centuries ago but the diocese that performed the marriage in the first place won’t divorce them because they’re technically dead and therefore don’t have mortal souls anymore. By their logic.”

You slapped a hand over your mouth in disbelief. “Oh my God, so they’re just begrudgingly married for eternity?”

“Yeah.” He chuckled. “They still get together to celebrate their anniversary every 100 years.”

“That’s nice, I guess.”

After finishing your food up at the bakery, Kun walked you back to your apartment—you weren’t sure if it was chivalry, a genuine concern for your wellbeing, or a combination of both—and now you were once again at your front door.

“Thank you again, Kun, for paying,” you said, fishing your keys out from your backpack.

“I was happy to. Thank you for inviting me to come with you. I enjoyed our discussion a lot.”

You focused your gaze on the keys in your hand. “Me too.”

“Are you busy this weekend?”

“I’m hanging out with a couple friends tomorrow, but I don’t think I’ve got anything going on Sunday. Why?”

“I want to keep spending time with you. As much as you’ll let me, if that’s okay.”

“Oh, right.” You could feel yourself warming up at his candidness. “Uhm, sure, we can do something on Sunday. Did you have anything in mind?”

Kun had almost a mischievous smile on his face. “Would you mind terribly if I surprised you?”

You sputtered out a laugh. “You’re asking if you can surprise me?”

“Some people don’t care for surprises. And I’m not telling you what it is, just that I would like to keep it a surprise, if that’s alright with you.”

“Yeah, Kun, you can surprise me. On one condition.”

“Of course, anything.”

“Bring me your favorite book you’ve read recently.”

He tilted his head, brows furrowed in confusion. “Pardon me?”

“On Sunday, wherever we go, I want you to bring me your favorite book that you’ve read in the past…” you ruminated on how you wanted to quantify ‘recent’ for a vampire, and finally settled on, “…year. You’re half a Lit major, so I’m assuming you own least one or two.”

“Yeah, I think I might’ve read a couple here or there,” he chuckled. “I will bring you one.”

“Not just any one, your favorite, remember?”

“Of course.”

Satisfied that he understood your request, you stuck your apartment key in your lock. “Goodnight, Kun.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.” The vampire once again took your free hand in his delicate, cool grasp, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the back of your fingers before letting it go.

You paused for just a moment, feeling as though you should say something. But there were no words that came to mind, so you instead unlocked your apartment and disappeared through the door with one last wave over your shoulder to him.

“You’re going on a date with him?” Kunhang scoffed in disbelief from the living room.

“Did you not just hear what I said?” You pushed his head as you walked by to take your seat on the floor around Sicheng and Ten’s coffee table. “We’re hanging out.”

“Sounds like a bad idea...” Your friend muttered, grabbing his beer and taking a swig of it.

“Coming from the guy who suggested I try to get a car out of him.”

“Yeah, a car. Not a date. No strings attached.”

“You’re insane,” you rolled your eyes, trying to turn your focus to the phoenix on your left, who was shuffling the stack of cards.

You, Dejun, Kunhang, and Yangyang were over at Ten and Sicheng’s place for a board game night, which of course couldn’t pass by without a comment or two about your current love potion predicament. And when you had tried to fill Ten in on how your attempt to take his advice was going, your gryphon friend had to add in his two cents.

“Coming from the girl who is going on a date with someone who is high on love potion.”

“I haven’t had a lot of opportunities to talk to vampires that are hundreds of years old, excuse me for wanting to chat.” You accepted your stack of cards from Sicheng gracefully, then turned back to glaring daggers at Kunhang. “It’s not a date.”

He was firm on his stance. “I’m telling you: This isn’t a good idea.”

“Why? Because I’m feeding into his delusion or something? He’s going to be in love with me until the love potion wears off, whether I—”

“Because I think you’re going to hurt yourself, Y/N. You’re too soft for this. Being constantly wooed for who knows how long? You don’t think that’s going to do anything to you?” Kunhang sighed, grey eyes focused on you from across the table.

You held his gaze for a moment, eyes still narrowed at him. Then, you looked away, grabbing a handful of the snacks you’d just retrieved from the kitchen. “I know it’s not real. Can we just start the fucking game? Or does everybody have an opinion on my life that they want to share?”

Ten, Sicheng, Dejun, and Yangyang all looked at each other, then simultaneously shook their heads. Ten went back to passing out the in-game currency to everyone, and you refused to look up at Kunhang despite the lingering feeling of his eyes on you.

Later on, between the conclusion of the first game and the set-up of the next, you were laying on the ground in an attempt to realign your back that had been hurting from the unfortunate hunch that you’d been sitting with. A couple others had dispersed to do various tasks, while Dejun and Sicheng stuck behind in the living room to step up the next game. They were quietly conferring over the instructions as you readjusted the positioning of your shoulders, sighing as one specific part of your back relaxed into a gentle cracking sound.

“Y/N,” Dejun got your attention.

“Hm?” You replied, too comfortable now to get up all the way yet.

“He means well.”

“…Bluebeard?” You asked in confusion, referencing the next game you were about to play, a board-gamified version of the Bluebeard’s Castle fairytale.

“No, Kunhang,” the dragon clarified. “He has every right to be a little worried about you hanging out with Kun tomorrow.”

You sighed again. “I know. I’m going to apologize to him. I just… need to be mad tonight. If I try to apologize today, I’m going to get pissed again and the wrong thing will come out and I’ll just make it worse. We’ve been friends for a few years now, we both need to sleep it off before either of us try to apologize.”

“So… are you still going to see Kun tomorrow?” It was Sicheng that asked you that.

Taking your bottom lip between your teeth, you thought about it. Maybe the smart thing would be to cancel. But you’d already asked him to bring you a book, and you were sure he’d been carefully contemplating that request ever since. Not to mention that you were excited to see him, actually. He was interesting to talk to. You’d met lots of magical creatures, all the ones that you were currently with for starters, but there was something both simultaneously refreshing and homey about talking to Kun, finding out more about him.

“Yeah, I am,” you declared, though you’d known that there was no changing your mind about it. “Don’t worry, guys. Like I said, I know it’s not real. To me, we’re just two buds hanging out. Promise.”

A knock on your door pulled you off your couch the next day. Readjusting your outfit for a brief moment, you then swung it open. The exact vampire you were expecting was on the other side, a heart-stopping smile on his face, bouquet of flowers in one hand, and small wrapped gift in the other.

“Oh, oh wow,” you breathed out, accepting the flowers from him. It was a gorgeous arrangement of yellow tulips and white baby’s breath, simple but enchanting. “Thank you, Kun.”

“Good morning, Y/N.”

“Yeah, good morning,” you said distractedly, eyes still focused on the flowers. You looked up at him again, giving him a bashful smile, “Uhm, here, I need to put these in some water.”

Leaving the door open for him, you turned to go back into your apartment, but were stopped by Kun’s voice.

“Ah, Y/N.”

“Hm?”

He was still standing on the welcome mat outside, hands clasped behind his back. “I need to be invited in.”

“Oh, right, sorry! Kun, please come in.”

“Thank you.” He stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

“So, how does that work with school and going to class? Like, do you just have to be invited into each building or is it each classroom? What about professors’ offices? Is there like a special vampire-only orientation where the president of the college invites all the new vampire students everywhere or something?” You asked him over your shoulder as you moved further into your apartment, your destination being your kitchen.

“The rules are a little fluid, but our university is a public institution, so I don’t have to be invited in anywhere.”

“Oh. Well, that’s a lot less funny than my idea.”

“Yours was very efficient,” Kun tried to placate you as you busied yourself with rooting through your cabinets.

“So what about if you went to a private university?”

“I’ve been to one private university before. However, it was run by vampires, so the owners were dead and therefore nobody needed to be invited in anywhere.”

“Huh. And my apartment?” You knelt down to check under the sink. “I was able to invite you in, but I don’t own it, I rent. Shouldn’t my landlord have been the only one to be able to invite you in?”

Kun had an answer for that one too. “Owner and/or current legal occupant who is there with the owner’s permission can invite vampires in.”

“So my lease lets me invite supernatural creatures inside, but I can’t paint,” you rolled your eyes.

Finally, you secured your lone glass vase at the back of the cabinet under the sink, behind a couple bottles of cleaning products.

“What color would you paint the walls, if you could paint?”

You filled the vase up under the faucet. “Probably a different color in each room. Dark green in the living room, goldenrod in the kitchen, something like that. I don’t know, the neutral beige grey is so boring. Especially with the fake grey hardwood.”

He smiled at you. “Very colorful. I like that.”

Having finally gotten the flowers in water, you turned back to accept the package wrapped in simple brown paper and twine. Curiously undoing the small twine bow first, then tearing the paper open, you saw that it was an old, thick, leatherbound book, and trailed your finger over to read the spine.

“The Complete Works of Sherlock Holmes?” You tilted your head. “This is your...”

Kun went to try to explain, gesturing to a couple small yellow tabs poking out of the pages. “I bookmarked just a couple that I think you’ll like—”

“Kun, I asked for your favorite from the past year, not two centuries ago!” You guffawed.

“Hey, I’ve re-read these in the past year! You didn’t say they had to be published in the past year, just my favorite that I’ve read this year, and this is it. But if you’re dissatisfied—”

“Nope! No take-backs!” You clutched the book to your chest protectively. “I’ll read them. Or, at least the bookmarked ones. I don’t know if I’ll get to them all in this lifetime.”

There was suddenly an unpleasant frown on Kun’s face, a crease forming between his brows. The teasing faded from your demeanor as you set the book down on your kitchen counter beside the vase of flowers.

“Kun? What’s wrong?”

“I just remembered that you’re human, and you know… you won’t… be here forever like I will.”

“Oh, Kun… I’m okay with that.” You reassured him, squeezing his arm.

“I know. Let’s… I don’t want to think about it anymore. Are you ready to go?” His voice was tight, the smile that flashed across his face not reaching his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah!” You grabbed your bag, then gestured for Kun to lead the way.

It was a lovely spring day, and you delighted in the still cool breeze tickling your nose as warm sun shone down on you. The streets downtown were bustling with life, and you pressed close to Kun to make sure you didn’t lose him in the crowd. You were almost knocked into by three smaller figures, a young dryad, phoenix, and human all playing tag. The dryad seemed to be It, shooting out a vine to wrap around the human kid’s waist and yanking him back. The human giggled as his friend wrapped his arms around him tight. The phoenix noticed the lack of her friends and darted back to meet them, a couple soft down feathers falling off the bridge of her nose in the process. You smiled fondly as you skirted around them and continued down the sidewalks.

“Cute,” you commented absentmindedly.

Kun’s eyes lingered on the children for another moment before he turned his gaze forwards again. “Sometimes I really do have to stop and look at where we are.”

“What...” You trailed off as you realized what he must be thinking of. “Oh, yeah. You remember what it was like before humans and magical beings lived together like this, right?”

It was before your time, but humans, magical creatures, and even different kinds of magical creatures all lived separately. You knew bits and pieces, that the kind of integration that you’d grown up with was rather recent. You had your fair share of older relatives who regarded your magical friends with thinly veiled suspicion and mistrust throughout your life.

“Yes, I do. At least, from when I was alive onwards, and I know stories from those older than I am.”

“Can you tell me about it?”

“I think that to start, it’s important to think of a spectrum of non-magical to magical that all kinds of life fall somewhere along, and not an either/or. Humans are on the furthest end of the non-magical, but they can become magical.”

“Like becoming a vampire.”

“Correct.”

“Like you.”

He nodded. “Yes.”

“Okay, I’m following so far.”

“Witches were previously just considered humans that can use magic.”

You snickered. “I know a few witches who would smite you for that, but sure, I’ve heard that before.”

“Obviously, with recent advancements in the study of magic, we know that’s not true.” Kun stopped the two of you to wait at a crosswalk signal. “But generally, it’s been easier for humans to accommodate magical beings that looked more like them over the years.”

“Closer to them on the non-magic to magic spectrum.” You related it back to his framework.

“Right. Humans were more likely to live with magical beings that looked less outlandish, and posed less of a threat to them.”

“Odd predicament for vampires, then. You look almost just like humans, used to be humans, but before blood supplements, you almost exclusively had to feed off humans.”

“Hence the... tangled and tense history of humans and vampires. I can’t really give a clear story of humans and vampires. It’s messy, depending on the time, society, village, individual family that you look at. And then of course, all magical creatures don’t get along either.”

“Dryads and dragons.” You listed off an old rivalry you knew off the top of your head. Historically, dryads despised dragons’ tendency to burn down their forests and fields.

“Right.”

“Fairies and… everyone.”

Kun chuckled. “Yeah, exactly. But the most recent history, here, now, is that mass integration to create the society that you know really came about around a hundred years ago. Witches and humans had been living together for a while, with some dryads, fairies, and even the odd vampire here and there. Then sirens, and gryphons, and phoenixes… I mean, the first human to see a dragon around here is probably still alive, you know?”

“And I just got annihilated at board game night by one yesterday.”

“Like I said... Sometimes I feel the need to just stop and take it all in.”

The crosswalk signal changed then, and the vampire with you briefly looked both ways before guiding you forward with a hand on the small of your back.

You looked over at him curiously, wishing that you could see any hint of his eyes behind his dark sunglasses. “What about when you were turned, Kun? Were vampires... Your parents were still humans... Was it hard for you?”

“I wasn’t living with my parents when I became a vampire. Which was for the best, truly, so there was no chance of me hurting them. But…” He paused, and when you looked over at him, he was looking up at the sky. “I remember when I was a young boy, and I was so small, and the world was too big. And when I was hurt, my mother would take me into her arms and tell me it would all be okay, and I believed her. I just knew it would be because she was there. Because my mother was with me and she was bigger than me, bigger than the whole world. I remember wishing I could’ve had her there then.”

Your eyes had gotten a little misty, and you reached up to dab at them with the back of your hand. Kun’s voice wavered in just the slightest, and you felt your chest tighten at just how strongly he still felt all these emotions after so long.

“Didn’t the person who turned you take care of you? When you were turning, and as a fledgling? Isn’t that what they’re supposed to do?”

“I was turned by a friend. I got hurt, very badly, and he panicked and couldn’t think of how else to save me. He was a very young vampire at the time, he had only been turned himself five years earlier. I was the first person he’d ever turned, he didn’t know what to do, how to take care of me.” Kun relayed all this to you very matter-of-factly, as if it’d happened to somebody else.

“So did you have any choice about it?”

He looked over at you with a serene look on his face. “No. But if I spend the rest of my immortal life mourning the measly forty or fifty years that I would’ve gotten at the time, that would make for a miserable eternity. Every choice that we make or don’t make creates a new life for ourselves, and yes, sometimes for others. And if we constantly mourn all those lives we never got to live, we’ll never have time to live the one that we do have.”

The fist that your hand had curled into over the unjustness of Kun’s turning, relaxed as he continued speaking. You took a deep breath to recenter yourself.

“And your mother? Your father?”

“I saw them some time after I turned. And… it wasn’t any different. They were still my parents.” He smiled, it was bittersweet, but filled with heart, with love. “And I believed again that it would all be okay.”

“And… has it been?” You asked, head tilted curiously. Could a vampire even define such a long life as ‘okay’ or not?

Kun looked down from the sky at you this time, his features turning soft, fond. “More than.”

Kun finally stopped you on a less busy street, all old buildings, stone and brick faces. The one in particular that you were in front of had no distinguishing signage out front, and you peered around curiously for any hint as to what the six-floor building you were looking at was possibly used for. The windows were tinted too darkly for you to see in, and the ornately carved dark wooden door held no clue as to its identity other than the street number, 101.

Your companion pulled on the large iron handle to hold the door open for you. Well, you did give him permission to surprise you, you certainly couldn’t complain about not knowing what was going on. So, you stepped in.

As soon as you crossed the threshold, the air around you became noticeably cooler. Not uncomfortably so, just feeling almost as if you were a basement, the sort of coolness of being underground. You were in a lobby, a woman sitting behind a counter reading a book that looked even older than the one Kun had given you. She looked about your parents’ age, some grey streaked in her hair. But you realized that assessment meant nothing, as her eyes flashed red in the warm, dim light when she glanced up from her book to the two of you.

“Good morning,” Kun greeted her, and stepped up to the counter to hold a small black card the size of a business card out to her.

She took it, skimming the front and back for all of one second before handing it back to him. Without a word, she went back to reading.

“Come on.” Kun ushered you further into the building, through the black velvet curtain past the desk.

This time, you emerged in a much larger room. There were no lights, but it was still illuminated by an old-school movie projector casting a grainy, black and white scene on the opposite wall. You watched as a woman in clothes that you couldn’t even pinpoint the timeframe of—other than definitely not being from the past century at least—walked, turned, and waved at the camera. The clip then replayed from the beginning by itself, no manual rewinding necessary.

You rewatched the short two-second clip again with delight before you turned to Kun. “What is this place?”

“It’s a gallery, of sorts,” he explained, gesturing to the video. “A group of vampires all got together and compiled videos, movies, films, kinetoscopes—every sort of moving image you can imagine—that they had been holding onto over their lifetimes. And they’re all on display here.”

“Kun, this is so cool!” You gasped.

“I think we all—non-vampires and vampires alike—tend to have this idea of vampires as being stuck in whenever they were turned. You know, a vampire turned in the 16th century is treated the same way we treat a painting from the 16th century. Like we’re... artifacts or something. And we’re not, we lived through everything else that came after we turned too. We’re not dead history, we’re living, moving history.” Kun had led you into another room of the gallery as he spoke, where a clip of a busy street market was repeating. “I think this is a good reminder of that. The oldest stuff is on the bottom from the invention of the camera, and the newest up at the top. It goes all the way to the present, digital. The top floor isn’t finished, they’ll keep adding to it as the years go by, as we all keep living through history.”

You watched the market, vendors and customers, families, horses, produce, rugs and wares. Just a microcosm of everyday life from whenever and wherever this was. A peek into moving history.

“Do you have anything here?” You asked, curious if you’d be able to see any microcosm of Kun’s life.

He shook his head. “No. I couldn’t decide what to submit. Too many options. If you ever see my home, you’ll understand that I... I tend to hoard.”

“Thank you for bringing me here.” You watched Kun’s face this time as he was focused on the moving picture. His features were lit softly from the front, cast in the same black and white as the image, except for his earnest, lively scarlet eyes.

The sun was just setting when you finally returned to your apartment. You’d ended up spending the whole day out with Kun. First, your stomach growled as soon as you two left the gallery since it was about lunchtime, and Kun immediately had to remedy that by taking you to lunch. Then, the restaurant you’d eaten at was near the shopping district, so you two meandered and did some window shopping—you really did have to physically stop him from going in and buying you everything that you even looked at for more than one second. And finally, you might have intentionally let slip that you were “kinda hungry” as it approached the evening, and your chest felt funny at the way that Kun’s face lit up before he offered to take you to dinner.

And now, you were slowing to a stop at your front door, getting ready to say goodnight.

“Thank you, Kun. This was a really fun day,” you said genuinely. “And thank you for the book recommendation, too. I’m excited to read it.”

Kun’s eyes sparkled as he smiled at you. “Thank you for letting me surprise you, Y/N. It made me happy to see you enjoy yourself today.”

“Oh, uhm, I have something for you too, by the way!”

“Really?”

“I didn’t think it was fair for you to be surprising me, and for me to be asking for a book on top of that without giving you anything in return…” You paused both for dramatic effect, and to search through your phone.

He took this as an opportunity to interject, “Y/N, you gave me plenty just by agreeing to come.”

There was a prick at your heart from his sweet words. Pushing past that, you tried to joke as casually as possible, “And yet I still want to give you…”

Finally finding what you were looking for, you selected a thumbnail from your camera roll. Shoulder to shoulder with Kun, you held up your phone screen for him to see properly. It was a video that you’d taken today, just a few seconds long, of Kun. You’d taken it while the two of you were out window-shopping, and Kun had stopped at the window of an electronics store to look over a new piece of music mixing equipment that was on display there, his face awash in rainbow by the colorful LEDs inside. You’d been caught by the spark of interest that was on his features, a different look than you’d ever seen from him since he’d been under the love potion. Sure, all the soft smiles and tender adoration you’d been getting was sweet. But to see this magnetism towards something he was truly interested in outside of the effects of the potion, you were utterly entranced.

He looked up from the video to you, brow set in confusion. “I don’t understand.”

“You said you didn’t know what to submit to the video gallery. They’re taking digital submissions, right?”

“Right...”

“I’m sorry if I’ve been treating you like an artifact, Kun. If submitting something old is going to make you feel like that, then maybe you should submit a newer piece of your moving history.”

Kun stared at you, mouth parted. He was silent for a beat too long, and you start fidgeting, suddenly unsure of yourself.

“Sorry, I’m realizing that’s like really presumptuous of me to tell you what to submit— It’s just, you know, another option, if you want it.”

“No, it’s perfect, Y/N,” he reassured you. “Please, send me it. Having you as a part of my moving history in the gallery, I really like that idea.”

You were getting hot under the intensity of his gaze, and looked back down at your phone screen. “Right. I’ll-I’ll send it to you.”

“And you don’t treat me like an artifact, either.” Kun briefly squeezed your hand, then dropped it. Part of you itched to grab his again. “I’m sorry that I made you think that. You treat me like a person, Y/N. You ask me questions, yes, but you ask questions about all of me. Me back then, me now, my family, my major, my favorite book from the past year, even my future. It’s… the first time since I was turned that I think I’ve had someone do that.”

You swallowed thickly, the gulp comically loud in your ears. He held your eye contact, that same loving, peaceful, adoring look on his face as he gazed at you.

Then, he finally looked away, at the setting sun. “It’s getting late. I should let you go for the night.”

Scrambling to reach into your bag, you ascertained your keys and started the first of too many attempts at unlocking your door. “Goodnight, Kun.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He took your hand, bending over to press a familiar, sickly sweet kiss to your knuckles. When he stood up straight, he added, “You will send me that video, right?”

“R-Right. The video. Yes.” You nodded dumbly, opening the door then practically slamming it shut behind you.

You didn’t make it even two steps into your apartment, sliding down the wall of your entryway with a drawn-out sigh. Fuck.

“I fucking hate Python,” you declared, snapping your laptop shut. You, Dejun, Yangyang, Ten, and Sicheng were back in the student union getting lunch together between classes, and you and your dragon friend were taking the spare time to work on an assignment. “I’m going to quit school and run away to live in the woods and survive off the land and if I ever see another computer again for the rest of my life it’ll be too soon.”

Dejun snickered from beside you, still happily typing away at his own coding. “You wouldn’t last an hour without wifi, Y/N.”

You groaned, opening your computer back up. “I know... a girl can dream, right?”

“Just change majors if you hate math this much,” Yangyang suggested from across the table, popping a tater tot into his mouth.

“It’s not like you haven’t done it before,” Ten added oh-so-helpfully, eyes not leaving his sketchbook.

“It’s not that I hate math, I just...” you trailed off as you tried to put your situation into words.

“Don’t like it?” Dejun finished for you humorously.

You stuck your tongue out at him. “No. I just... hate math classes.”

“Oh, that’s so much clearer.”

“Just like you hated Literature classes, and hated History classes,” Sicheng pointed out, listing off your previous two majors.

“Exactly!” You exclaimed, despite knowing that the phoenix was poking fun at you too. “You get me, Sicheng!”

“Scary...” he murmured to himself.

As you were desperately trying to think of any comeback other than just sticking your tongue out at him, you heard a voice calling your name. Looking up, you saw Kun approaching your table, and you gave him a small wave of acknowledgement.

He stopped next to your table, gentle smile focused down on you. “Hello, Y/N.”

“Hey, Kun,” you smiled up at the vampire, eyeing the paper bag in his hand with a familiar logo on it. “So you went back to Half Moon?”

“Yes, I did.” He held the bag out to you.

You accepted it, having to bite down on your bottom lip to keep your bashful grin at bay as you peered into the paper bag. An excited squeal left your mouth when you saw exactly what he had brought you. “A matcha croissant! Thank you, Kun!”

“You’re welcome.” He beamed at you.

Looking around the table, you ignored the pointed looks all your friends were giving you, and instead gestured to the empty chair on the other side of Dejun. “Do you want to sit with us?”

“Thank you, I wish I could,” he shook his head. “Unfortunately, I have a class to get to. Goodbye, Y/N.”

“Bye.” You didn’t even flinch when he kissed your hand this time, though your skin was on fire as you remembered very clearly that your friends were right there.

As Kun left, he gave you a final wave over his shoulder, and you waved back before returning to your friends, dread in your stomach. In an effort to appear as normal as possible, you reached into the bag and pulled out your croissant. The table was still dead silent after you had taken your first bite, and you looked up from your food to see the other four staring at you.

“Oh my god, would you guys stop?” You hissed.

“Damn... I’m such a good witch,” Yangyang cracked his knuckles. “That man is heads over heels for you!”

“He brought me a croissant!” You retorted indignantly. “It’s not like he proposed or anything.”

“Y/N, I’ve known Kun for...” Yangyang trailed off, brows furrowing as he seemed to be thinking of how long he really had known the vampire for. “I don’t know, a few years? And he’s not like a recluse or anything but he’s not, how you would say... warm and fuzzy.”

“Oh my—”

“He brought you a croissant! What looks like your favorite kind, if I’m not mistaken?”

You pouted as you took another bite. “Maybe.”

“Looks like Ten’s advice worked then,” Sicheng mused.

“You should probably give him a few more nudges about other stuff you like, though, unless you want to get a hundred matcha croissants a day,” the siren suggested, readjusting his hold on his pencil.

“Yeah. I just can’t figure out how he always seems to know where I am—”

“He can smell you.” The creatures around you all retorted in unison, nobody even looking up from their individual tasks.

You coughed, scrambling to grab your bottle to take a long drink of water. Your other hand instinctually came up to rub at the side of your throat.

“So... how are... things?” Kunhang asked tersely, sitting on the porch swing that he and Yangyang had on their balcony. You’d called him after your last class that day, begging him to let you come over.

You leaned against the balcony railing, taking a deep breath—

“That doesn’t sound good.”

—and let out something between a groan and a screech.

“That really doesn’t sound good.” The gryphon picked up his blue Gorgonade that was sitting on the side table. “Care to share, Y/N?”

“You were right...” You mumbled, burying your face in your hands.

“Sorry, what was that?”

“You were right, okay? Happy, Kunhang? You were right! You know me and my stupid soft little heart too damn well, and you were fucking right!”

“Woah.” He held his hands up defensively. “Sorry, I genuinely didn’t hear you, you kinda muffled yourself. Uh, I’m going to take a guess that this is about Kun?”

“Yes...” You whined. “I almost kissed him today, Kunhang!”

“Y/N!”

“And you want to know the worst part?”

“That’s not the worst part?” He asked, horror on his features.

“No, it’s not! The worst part, is that the only reason I didn’t is because he stopped me!” You bemoaned dramatically, squeezing your eyes shut against the embarrassment as you replayed the horrifying moment over again in your head.

Kun had found you again in a break between your classes. The two of you were just sitting on a shaded bench under a tree in a more secluded area of campus, chatting. You were just talking about nonsense, telling him about the lecture you’d just come from, how it was actually the one math class you had this semester that you liked. And Kun was just listening, and you were sitting so close to him, and Kun was looking at you like you were everything to him, and the next thing you knew, you were leaning in closer and closer to him. Then he ducked his head away from you at the last second, and you were rocketed back to your senses as you realized what you almost did.

“Oh God— Y/N!” Kunhang looked like he was about to pass out.

You covered your face again. “I know...”

“Why did he, you know, swerve you?”

“He said...” You sighed, looking up at the sky. “He said that he didn’t think it was fair, to me.”

“To you?”

“Yes, because I was... ‘falling for him under false pretenses’ since his behavior is being influenced by the love potion and not genuine feelings for me. And he thought that it was best for me, if he kept his distance for the duration of the potion.” Hot tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you repeated his words bitterly. You weren’t mad at him, you were mad at yourself. God, you felt so fucking stupid.

Kunhang’s jaw was on the floor. “You— you were rejected... by someone high on love potion.”

“I think I’m officially the most pathetic person on the planet.” You plopped down on the bench swing next to him, pulling your knees up to your chest.

Your friend scooted over to you, and you felt the familiar, comforting weight of his arm around your shoulders and a wing nestling over you. “No, you’re not. There’s nothing pathetic about being able to connect with people as openly and freely as you do, Y/N.”

You dropped your head onto his shoulder, bringing a hand up to harshly wipe at the tears threatening to spill over. “There’s really nothing pathetic about crying over a vampire that I’ve known for six days?”

That gave the gryphon a moment’s pause as he seemed to be seriously considering your question. Finally, he answered confidently, “Nah. Pathetic would be crying over a vampire you’ve only known for five days. Six days, you’re in the clear.”

That did make you choke out a little giggle, and he gave your head a couple pats.

The door to the patio was suddenly thrown open, and you jumped in your seat, whipping around to see who it was. Which you couldn’t do at first, as Kunhang had instinctually blocked you from the intruder—which always reminded you of a soccer mom throwing out her arm when slamming on the brakes of her minivan a little too hard—so all you could see were grey feathers. Yangyang just ran around the gryphon’s wing to skid to a stop in front of you two, panicked eyes landing on you.

“Y/N!” He pointed at you almost accusatorily.

“Yangyang!” You imitated his tone, pointing right back at him.

“Have you heard from Kun today?”

You exchanged a look with Kunhang. “Uh, I saw him on campus, but not since then. Why?”

“When was that?”

“I don’t know, one, maybe?”

Yangyang checked the time on his phone anxiously. “Five hours ago?”

“Yeah, I guess.” You were growing uneasy with each passing second. “Yangyang, what’s going on?”

“Kun’s not picking up the phone, or replying to my texts. And he’s like... neurotic about that stuff, you know.”

You were aware of Kun’s tendency to reply to texts in an extremely timely fashion, and always call back on the rare occasion that he missed a call from someone. A frown grew on your face. “How long has it been?”

“I first called him... at three, because he was done with classes by then. But I’ve just gotten radio silence all day.”

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, anxiety kept mounting inside you.

Kunhang spoke up. “Did you do something to piss him off maybe?”

“No. And I would know, he has no problem telling me.” Yangyang ran a hand through his hair, then focused a pleading look on you. “Y/N, do you think you could go check on him?”

“No.” The gryphon answered for you.

“Dude—”

You added, “I’ve never been to his place, I don’t even know where it is.”

“I’ll give you the address!”

“I’m not going to go over there uninvited.” You were still arguing but felt your resolve waning fast.

“He’s madly in love with you, this will be more like a great surprise for him!”

“Yangyang, cut it out,” Kunhang told him off.

The witch tilted his head in confusion. “Am I missing something?”

“No, just go over there yourself if you’re so worried. Y/N’s not your personal errand girl.”

“If he’s not even picking up my calls, there’s no way he’ll open the door for me. Y/N, on the other hand…”

“Liu Yangyang, have you ever heard of the word no? Just fuck off for—”

“Kunhang,” you interrupted him, bracing yourself for that venom to be turned on you for what you were about to say. “Thank you, but I-I am going to go over. Yangyang’s right, that’s not like Kun, I want to check on him.”

The gryphon blinked at you in disbelief. “You really think that’s a… good idea?”

You offered him an uneasy smile. “I’m just going to make sure he’s alive. Or… undead, or whatever. I won’t even go in, just see if he comes to the door.”

Kunhang just gave you a look that clearly conveyed his disapproval of this idea.

Double checking the house number with the address that Yangyang had texted you, you took a shaky breath. This was definitely it. It was a modest size, probably two bedrooms, if you had to guess from the outside. Definitely not the sort of exceptionally lavish castle that one might think a vampire as old as Kun would have. With a shaky inhale, you raised your fist up and knocked on the sturdy wood door.

It swung open just a second later. You were expecting Kun to still be in his usual academic sort of dress, maybe even the same clothes he’d been in earlier on campus, but instead, he was just in a grey t-shirt and black lounge pants. So he did own casual clothes.

“Hi, Kun,” you greeted him as normally as possible, very aware of all the layers to the awkwardness here. You had never been to his place before, he knew that you had never been to his place before, you hadn’t been invited over, and he’d just—as Kunhang had so elegantly put it—swerved you earlier, before saying that he was going to keep his distance from you. And now here you were on his doorstep.

“Oh, Y/N, hello.” Kun smoothed over his t-shirt habitually, as if he were meaning to fix the tuck of a dress shirt that he wasn’t even wearing.

“Sorry, uhm, I promise Yangyang sent me. I’m not... uh, yeah.”

He stepped back, holding the door open wider. “Please, come in.”

With your own promise to Kunhang playing in the back of your mind, you walked inside. “Thanks.”

“So, what does Yangyang need?” Kun kept talking as he guided you further into his home, and you looked around, eyes hungrily drinking in every detail.

It seemed like the one thing Kun had never studied was interior design. His home was a maximalist mishmash of stuff he had accumulated throughout his long life. An oil painting in an ornate gold frame hung beside a colorful pop art photograph collage, both above the olive green mid-century couch. In the corner was a desk with several computer monitors, a few pieces of electronics that were unfamiliar to you, and on the wall above it, small panels of LED lights that cycled through the rainbow. It was a lot, but you were charmed, finding yourself wanting to keep looking at everything, ask about every piece. You were sure that they all had some story or memory attached to them.

The two of you slowed to a stop in the living room, and you tore your eyes from the décor back to the vampire with you.

“He said that you weren’t answering your phone. Uh, he was worried.”

“And he sent you because he was afraid that I might not have answered the door for anybody else.” He nodded in understanding.

“W-well yeah, I suppose.”

“I wasn’t answering his calls because I had my phone on silent. I was busy.”

“Oh, sorry. I’ll go, you’re clearly fine.”

“No, Y/N.” Kun took a step forward, closing the space between you two. “You’re already here, and I don’t like the way we left things earlier. Please, stay?”

You gave him an easy, relaxed smile this time. “Sure.”

“Thank you.” He smiled back, then gestured to the couch. “Sit. Do you want something to drink? Water? I’m afraid my fridge isn’t very human-friendly right now, I apologize. If I’d known you were coming I would have—”

“Water’s fine, Kun,” you reassured him.

As he went to the kitchen, you went ahead and sat down where he indicated. The sofa was comfortable, plush, and you felt like you could melt into it and stay here forever. You went back to looking around at everything, a simple joy at the loving chaos that filled his space. A poster for some black and white silent film that you’d never heard of had caught your eyes when Kun walked back in, setting a glass of water down in front of you.

“I love all the stuff you’ve got in here,” you told him as he went to sit at the other end of the couch. “I feel like I could just look at it all forever.”

“Thank you. I usually just get told that it looks like I live in a flea market.”

You snickered. “Yangyang?”

“Well, yes.”

“So, what were you doing? Before I got here.” You took a sip of your water.

“Composing.” He gestured behind him to the desk with all the electronics equipment and LED panels. “Though I have to admit, I wasn’t making much progress.”

“Artist’s block?”

“Yes, something like that.” He sighed, fingertip tracing figure-eights in the upholstery of the back of the couch. “Usually music will help clear my mind, but this time…”

You frowned. “What’s wrong? If you want to share, I get it if you don’t.”

“I missed you,” Kun admitted without missing a beat.

Your grip tightened on your glass, and you took another long sip before replying weakly, “Well, I’m here…”

“Yes, you are. Like a little miracle…”

Kunhang was right again, this was so bad for you, your chest was airy, your head was TV static, your heart hurt. You chugged half your cup.

“Have you not been hydrating properly?” The vampire asked, concern coloring his tone.

“I guess not,” you laughed nervously, setting the glass back down on the coffee table before resting your hands on your legs. You looked up at him, listening to how loud your heart was hammering in your ears. You were sure he was too.

He leaned forward, studying your face carefully, “Is there something you want to ask me, Y/N?”

You opened your mouth, about to, but immediately closed it. There was something that had been pressing on your mind for a while—well, a couple somethings—but you didn’t know if you actually wanted the answers to either, or if it was just a morbid curiosity, and you were the cat who was going to be killed by it. Figuratively and literally.

“Mmm... nope. Nothing off the top of my head. I’m drawing a blank,” you shook your head maybe a bit too enthusiastically.

Kun reached out to briefly squeeze your hand before setting his back in his lap. “It’s okay, Y/N. You can ask me whatever you want. I remember the deal.”

Of course. The deal you’d offered him in the bakery last week. That whatever question you asked him you had thought through and wanted his honest answers to, therefore he would give you them, no matter what they were. Except, despite the fact that you had thought these questions through, you knew they couldn’t hold up to those terms.

You gave up all pretenses now, voice entirely defeated as you admitted, “I know. It’s just— these ones... I can’t keep my end of the deal. That’s not fair to you, I’m sorry.”

He contemplated this for a moment, drumming his fingers on the back couch cushion. “Are they yes or no questions? Or more open-ended?”

“Open-ended.”

“Then... I’ll only answer if I think the answer won’t hurt you. How about that?”

You breathed in deeply, took another sip of your water, and readjusted to fully face Kun, one of your arms resting on the back of couch. “Okay, yeah.”

“Great. Go ahead, when you’re ready.”

Mustering up whatever strength was left in your voice, you asked, “What is it like? Being under the love potion?”

“It’s beautiful.” He began, a giddy smile coming to his lips. His fingers inched forward, bridging the gap between you and gently stroking over the back of yours, seemingly absentmindedly as he spoke. “It’s not a destructive, consuming sort of love, but the comfortable, familiar kind that you settle into after being with someone for a while. Like you just know that they’re your person. Admittedly, sometimes when I’ll think about you when we’re apart my chest will hurt a little, but then when I see you again, it feels like coming home. There are some moments I get overcome with emotion, but it’s not a constant obsession like a new crush or puppy love. I do of course remember what it was like before the potion, and how I felt about you then, but it truly feels like another life— though you can imagine that I’ve used that phrase quite a bit.”

You were biting on the inside of your cheek so hard you started tasting blood. With a sharp hiss, you freed the skin from your teeth, and swiped over the area with your tongue for a moment as you tried to think of an answer, any answer, just something to say to that. Thankfully, Kun seemed to understand the position you were in, and saved you from having to respond.

“What were your other questions?”

“Just— Just one more.” You steeled your nerves. “You had to be bit, to be turned.”

Kun tilted his head. “Yes, though that wasn’t a question.”

“H-How does it feel?”

“You’re asking me to describe being turned to you?” He frowned. “That was a long time ago, Y/N, it was honestly a bit of a blur. I’m afraid I don’t really remember all the details, but I’ll tell you what I can—”

“Not being turned, uhm, being bit by a vampire.”

He squinted one eye closed, then the other. “I can’t—”

“Oh. That’s okay, Kun. I was just curious,” you reassured him, making your voice as sweet as possible to cover up any hint of disappointment. It looked like he was still trying desperately to remember for you, though, scratching at the back of his head and squeezing his eyes shut.

When he still hadn’t said anything a few moments later, you spoke up again, “Kun, I’m serious, it’s okay that you can’t remember.”

The vampire set his gaze on you again, voice tight, “No, I—”

“Oh my god you look unwell again,” you blurted out, taking in his blown out pupils. “Seriously, should I call Renjun? Yangyang?”

He practically leapt to his feet, bumping into furniture on his hasty path to the furthest corner of the living room from you. “No, I know what it is. You should go.”

No way were you going to just leave him like this. You stood up too, but stayed in front of the couch. “Will you tell me what’s wrong with you?”

“I—” He fanned himself with the material of his shirt. “Do you remember what Yangyang was saying about young vampires?”

Of course you did, that idea bouncing around in your head for the past week had contributed to your question in the first place. Younger vampires had a harder time controlling their thirst because all kinds of want became hunger, a need to feed.

“Yeah, but I thought that you were okay, since you were so much older. You haven’t even mentioned anything other than human food unless I brought it up. Why now?”

Kun screwed his eyes shut as if he were in physical pain. “I’ve been okay as long as I was fed. But—”

“Oh my god, me coming over unannounced!”

“No, no, I just fed when I went to get your water. I don’t know if it’s something with how the potion works, but I’m afraid I’ve had to keep increasing my intake in order to stay satiated around you and I’m getting hungrier faster. So I’m very sorry, but you really need to go.”

“That’s it?” You defiantly crossed your arms over your chest.

“What?”

“You’re hungry, thirsty, whatever? That’s all?”

He slowly opened his eyes again. “Y-Yeah, I suppose.”

“You can do it without killing me, right?”

“Y/N—”

“Right?”

“Of course, but—”

“Clearly the end point of this is you starving to death. And I’m not going to let you—”

“We don’t know that. I don’t want you to feel guilted by that assumption into letting me...”

“Kun, wanting to help somebody does not equal being guilted into it!” You finally snapped at him, taking big, stomping strides towards him. “Stop being so, so… chivalrous to the point of self-flagellation! Do you honestly think that makes me feel good watching you do that? Let me help you Kun, that’s what I want, I promise.”

He held your gaze, the inky blackness feeling so much different than the scarlet red that you were used to. But… you didn’t mind it. Didn’t mind the way that the darkness trailed from your eyes to your lips to your neck and lingered there. Liked it. You knew he could hear your heartbeat thrumming in your chest, was able to pinpoint you by scent on the wide expanse of campus. What must that be like now, in such a small space, so close?

“Okay…” His voice was barely above a whisper, hoarse, as if he didn’t trust himself to talk any louder.

Kun was still holding onto the doorframe with a death grip, the wood beginning to splinter under his fingers.

“I’ve… never done this,” you prompted him quietly.

“Oh, right.” He straightened up, attempting to compose himself again. Ushering you back towards the couch, he explained, “Let’s sit down. It will be more comfortable for you that way.”

He sat down in the corner of the sofa, hiking one leg up onto it and keeping his other foot planted on the ground. Kun patted the space between his thighs for you. You sat down in front of him on the same cushion, your back so close to touching his chest that you swore you could feel the brush of his clothing against yours.

“I’m not going to overfeed, but in case you end up feeling faint anyway, you’ll fall back on me, as opposed to buckling to the floor.”

“Oh,” you said, just to fill the empty space of your side of the conversation. “Thank you.”

“Again, I’m not going to overfeed, it won’t be anything more than when you get blood drawn for tests. But just like then, I don’t want you to get up right after, okay? No matter how… good you feel.”

You were a little thrown off by his phrasing, but still nodded. “Okay.”

The vampire got even closer to you, now hovering over your right shoulder. You could hear him inhale as he paused, and a distinct thrill shot up your spine. His cool breath washed over your skin as he breathed back out, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

Then all at once his mouth was on you. The piercing of his fangs lasted for a split second before it was all but erased from your mind by a honey sweet pleasure dripping through your whole body. You could feel the sensation of his lips sucking at your neck too, your blood trickling out from the wounds, and his tongue laving over your skin. But mostly you just felt… good. All of you thrummed from your heart to your fingertips.

A soft moan slipped past your lips as you let your head fall back onto his shoulder, giving him even more room. You felt him stiffen right after you did, as if getting ready to pull away. Reaching a hand up, you blindly grabbed for the back of his head, threading your fingers through his hair and holding him in place against your neck. Kun seemed to understand, going back to contentedly drinking from you. You relaxed fully against him, letting your eyes flutter shut. He easily kept you upright, wrapping an arm around your front to hold you close to him.

You had no way to know or even guess how much time had passed when Kun finally took his mouth off your neck. He leaned back into the corner of the couch, easing you back with him.

“Thank you, Y/N. My miracle…” He murmured, his mouth right next to your ear. A fingertip lightly graced over a patch of skin below the bite. “I’m sorry I don’t have any bite cream on hand for you, I haven’t live fed in years.”

“Mm—” You were starting to come back down from your mellowed-out state, poking at the area yourself. It was tender, duh, but not too bad. “I’ll pick some up tomorrow before class.”

“It needs to be used within fifteen minutes, prior to any normal supernatural healing process starting,” he explained with a sigh. “Again, I apologize. There will probably be some bruising for a while.”

“Kun, it’s okay.” You sat up, turning around to face him. He definitely looked better than before. His eyes were back to red, and he was much calmer. He also admittedly looked a little debauched, his hair tousled from your fingers, and a small drop of your blood smeared at the corner of his mouth.

But as you appraised him—and he licked the blood off his lip—you grew a little uneasy, realizing that something was still… off about him. Just in a different way this time.

“How are you feeling?

“I’m all better,” he confirmed with a singular, resolute nod.

You gave him a relieved smile. “Good, good. We should ask Yangyang about if it’s something with how the potion works, make sure you’re going to be okay for however much longer it’s going to last.”

Kun cleared his throat. “That will not be necessary. I am certain that the love potion is no longer in effect.”

You wanted nothing more than to burst into flames on the spot. Quickly, you scooched further down the couch from Kun as you started a blubbering attempt at a self-deprecating, deadpan apology, “Well, that’s just… awkward. I’m going to go die a hole. Uhm, forget everything, forget me, and with any luck, you’ll never have to see me again. I’m so sorry.”

And with that, you rushed to your feet, with every intent of quite literally running out of the door. Except the living room was spinning, and your head felt like a hot air balloon. Two cold hands were on your forearm and small of your back, guiding you back down onto the couch.

“Y/N, slow down,” Kun chastised you gently. “I didn’t overdrink, but you should still sit for a moment.”

You relented, but buried your face in your hands akin to the way that you so very wished that you could bury your entire self six feet under at the moment. Maybe if you didn’t say anything, Kun would just let you sit in silence until you were recovered enough to leave, and you would never have to talk about any of this ever again. Then one day you would die, and he would continue to live for eternity and eventually forget you and this whole weird six days forever. Sounded like a fantastic plan to you.

“Y/N.”

Of course not.

You pulled your face out of your hands, dragging your eyes from your feet up to his face. He didn’t smile at you tenderly like he would have before, but instead he pressed two of his cold fingers to the inside of your wrist.

“Are you… taking my pulse?” You asked. “Can’t you hear my heartbeat?”

“Blood pressure,” he answered, continuing to hold his fingertips there, and you could feel the blood in your vein pumping against them. “Vampire touch is sensitive enough that if you know what you’re feeling for then you can… Okay, that’s better.”

“Did you learn this at bloodletting school? Because I don’t know if I trust this, you might put leeches on me next.” You tried to joke, hoping it would put you at ease a little. It didn’t help.

Kun looked you dead in the eyes. “I just drank your blood, and you’re going to complain about a couple little leeches?”

You fell back against the back of the couch, covering your face with your free arm. “So instead of letting me fuck off and die in a hole on my own, you want to be the one to kill me yourself, huh?”

“Y/N.” He repeated your name in the same frank tone as before, releasing your wrist. “I have something I would like to say. To your face, preferably.”

Dropping your arm back down to your side, you sat up straight, turning to Kun and bracing yourself for whatever he had to say to you about the past six days. It could be any litany of things. Agreeing with you to never speak about it again, joint proposition to murder Yangyang, an apology from him, demand for an apology from you; you were prepared for it to truly be anything.

“I honestly wasn’t very familiar with you before this whole debacle. I’ve known Yangyang’s coven for a hundred years, and he calls on me for assistance from time to time. I only knew you as the friend of the roommate of a witch that I know.” Kun explained, and you kept as neutral of a face as possible as you listened, having absolutely no clue where he was going with this. “Just like when I was under the effects of the love potion, my memories from before it were not erased, now that it’s worn off, I do still remember the time that we spent together during it. While I am not in love with you at present, after learning as much about you as I did… I am romantically interested in you still.”

You must have been giving him the most dumbfounded expression ever, as he felt the need to tack on an explanatory, “I would like the opportunity to take you on a date— a proper one, sometime. If you would like.”

Your head was nodding before your mouth finally caught up. “Yeah, yeah. I’d really like that too.”

“I can’t... guarantee that I’ll be exactly like I was while I was under the effects of the love potion,” he forewarned you.

“Kun that’s- that’s fine,” you reassured him with a bright smile. “Like you said, we’ll just try it out. I also learned a lot about you, outside of the love potion courting stuff, that I found interesting... and liked.”

You mumbled the last part nervously, messing with your fingers.

“That makes me very happy to hear. Don’t worry, no more sonnets now, I promise.”

“Well... you don’t have to do that… if you want.”

“Oh so you did like it,” Kun teased, reclined back against the arm of the couch with a cocky smirk that you hadn’t seen on him before.

“I was flustered! And confused!”

“That’s fair. I won’t retire my quill yet, then.”

A little over a week later, and you were back at Kun’s house at his invitation. He said he had a surprise to show you, and there was no further information. His penchant for surprises was genuine.

Kun was sat at his producing desk, and you had pulled up a chair beside him to watch. He was just logging into the computer when his phone rang.

“Yangyang,” Kun snorted. He was about to reject it when you stopped him.

“You can pick it up, I don’t mind.”

“He is not important right now.” He turned his phone off, picking up one of your hands to press a cool kiss to your knuckles.

Just a second later, and your phone was buzzing. You sighed, looking at the contact, then held it up so Kun could read it. Kun rolled his eyes.

Yangyang.

You picked up the call. “Hey Yang—”

“Y/N! Hey!” The witch’s voice blared through your speakers, and you quickly had to turn your volume down.

“Yeah, hi, Yangyang. What’s up?”

“Just wanted to chat, we don’t really talk, you know?” His voice was pitched up and he talked so fast that you could barely understand all the strung-together words. “What—what are you doing? Right now?”

“I’m hanging out at Kun’s place, why—” You were cut off by your friend hanging up. Dropping your phone onto the table, you looked at the vampire knowingly. “So I think that means he’s coming over.”

Not even ten minutes later, someone was banging on Kun’s front door. Kun went to go get it as you stayed in your spot over by his producing station.

“Stop it,” Kun deadpanned in place of a greeting as he opened the door.

Yangyang rushed in without so much as a hello. Kun focused an exasperated look on him as he closed the door, then walked back over to you.

“So, what brings you here, Yangyang?” He asked, easing himself back down into his desk chair next to you.

“Alright, it was funny at first but now I’m seriously worried.” Yangyang grabbed Kun’s face, shining his phone flashlight in one of Kun’s eyes, then the other.

“Fuck!” Kun threw an arm over his eyes, pushing the witch away with the other.

“Yangyang, what the hell is wrong with you?” You yelled out, rubbing Kun’s back soothingly. Having that done to you, a human, would’ve hurt a bit; to a vampire’s more light-sensitive eyes must’ve been a searing pain at least.

Kun had recovered a little, taking one of your hands in his for comfort. You ran your thumb over his knuckles, wincing sympathetically.

He half-squinted and half-glared up at your friend. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s been like two weeks, that potion should have definitely worn off by now.” He looked down at his hands with wide eyes. “I must be more powerful than I realize.”

You scoffed. “Hate to burst your bubble, Yangyang, but it did.”

“What? No, he’s still—” Yangyang gestured frantically to your intertwined hands. “You’re still— But, Kun— Huh?”

The vampire sighed, thankfully taking the lead on explaining. “We learned a lot about each other during the experience, and have decided to pursue a real relationship. I’m no longer under the effects of the love potion.”

“That is... There’s no—” Yangyang blinked rapidly at you two. “When? How? Y/N, Kun?”

“The hell does that mean?”

“You’re like a walking, talking, undead pair of corduroy pants, I didn’t think you had it in you, outside of the love potion.”

“Have what in me? The capacity for romance?”

“I was going to say a personality, but yeah, that too!”

Kun rubbed his temples, letting out a low groan.

“For how long?”

“A week.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“I’m sorry, the witch who put love potion in a fucking Gorgonade bottle without telling anybody wants to complain about a lack of communication?” You retorted.

He crossed his arms with a huff. “Point taken, albeit begrudgingly. So it just finally wore off? A week ago?”

“Well, not quite...” You rubbed at your collarbone as the memory resurfaced.

“Then how—” Your friend cut himself off as his eyes zeroed in on your hand at your neck. “Oh. He— Of course! We should’ve thought of that.”

“Excuse me?” You sputtered out.

But Yangyang didn’t even acknowledge your embarrassment, too absorbed in the euphoric lightbulb moment he seemed to have just gotten. “It was a two-factor blood spell. You drank his blood to activate it—”

“Ew...” You muttered under your breath, shuddering at the memory.

“—so he had to drink yours to stop it! Duh!”

The witch was fervently typing on his phone as he spoke, now pacing with it as he buzzed with excitement.

“What are you doing?” Kun asked sternly.

“Taking notes! This is awesome!” Yangyang continued typing away. “I’m so getting an A!”

You and Kun exchanged mirrored looks of skepticism.

With a raised eyebrow, you pointed out, “Uh, but it didn’t work on me like it was supposed to, remember?”

He looked up from his phone at the two of you with the grin of a mad scientist—or, mad witch. “Look at the two of you! I’m calling this a win!”

Kun stood up, grabbing your friend’s shoulders and ushering him towards the door. “Goodbye, Yangyang.”

“Hey, wait! I wanted to ask you about— Ow!” Yangyang yelped as he was manhandled. “No fair using your freakish vamp strength! I was just going to ask if you—”

You couldn’t hear the rest of his sentence over the sound of the door slamming shut in his face. Kun turned back around, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. “If I hadn’t known his coven for a hundred years I’d have killed him by now.”

“No, you wouldn’t have,” you snickered, reaching your arms out for him. “Come here.”

Kun walked back over to you, hands outstretched to hold yours. You gave his colder ones a squeeze, smiling up at him.

“So, what were you showing me? Before he interrupted?” You prompted him.

“Right, right.” Kun sat back down, grabbing the mouse and continuing to navigate through his programs. “I’ve been composing something… and… I wanted… to… show—”

Your phone suddenly buzzed from his desk again, and this time you let out an annoyed groan. “I’m putting it on silent, sorry.”

“Yangyang again?” He asked as you grabbed the device.

“Even worse,” you cringed as you read the name.

“Who?”

“Kunhang.”

sequel :･ﾟ✧｡･:･*

⤷ blog masterlist ⤷ anthology masterlist

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icouldntcareless22 · 4 months

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This is one of the best fics I have EVER read. I don't know how the author does this but every story has me sucked in and in tears. Now excuse me as I demolish the rest of the fics

Paradise |1| - SEONGHWA

I would say I’m sorry for the length of this fic but the world needs to know about witch!seonghwa. Anyway please enjoy, and happy birthday to one of the best boys in the world <3

Banner credits to @blueprint-han (oh my god I’m still not over how beautiful it is <3 dawn I adore you!!)

Pairing: Seonghwa x gender neutral!reader

Genre: fluff, angst, reincarnation!au, witch!au

Triggers: death, semi-graphic depictions of blood and gore

Word Count: 13.5k

When you die the first time, Seonghwa makes a promise. In a second life, he swears to keep it.

Part 1 >> Part 2 >> Part 3 >> Part 4

Ateez Masterlist

When Seonghwa is young, his parents take him to the woods beyond his village for the first time. His father goes off with his brother to gather herbs or something but Seonghwa wants to play in the flowers, so his mother stays with him, watching with a careful eye as he runs around the field of blooms. She tells him the name of every flower she recognizes and indulges Seonghwa with his favorite smile whenever he picks a new one for the ever-growing bouquet in her hands.

In his rush to see every part of the field, he doesn’t notice the strangely shaped flowers at first. The patch is hidden among some of the taller blooms and blades of grass and they don’t smell, so only on a whim does Seonghwa give even a little more attention to the flowers that don’t really look like flowers. The petals don’t splay out wide, like his mother’s skirts – they wrap around the stem gracefully and open almost like a trumpet. Or something. Seonghwa thinks it’s a trumpet.

“Those are calla lilies,” his mother says, kneeling beside him. “Pretty, aren’t they?”

Keep reading

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icouldntcareless22 · 4 months

Text

Sword and Shield - m.list

A series of stories set in the world of a revolution, based loosely on eight of Ateez’s mvs :) happy third anniversary to Ateez, and here’s to many more years of making wonderful music!!

also this is my ten thousandth post on this blog god help me I’ve been here too long

Updates every two days beginning on October 26th, 2021 (specific post dates under each story)!

Genre: occasional fluff, angst, rebel!au

Triggers: death, cursing, guns, semi-graphic violence (specific triggers are listed beneath each story)

“I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that which they defend.” - Lord of the Rings

Ateez Masterlist

THANXX |MINGI|

You and Mingi knew the risks. You only wish you never had to face them.

bartender!Mingi x pianist/bartender!reader

triggers: guns, death

Post Date: October 26, 2021, 6 am EST

WONDERLAND |SAN|

Together, you and San uncover the traitor in your midst.

rebel spy!San x rebel spy!reader

triggers: guns, death, semi-graphic violence and blood

Post Date: October 28, 2021, 6 am EST

TREASURE |YUNHO|

Even in the midst of war, there are still treasures to be found amid the ashes.

rebel leader!Yunho x rebel nurse!reader

triggers: mentions of death

Post Date: October 30, 2021, 6 am EST

INCEPTION |SEONGHWA|

In the wake of tragedy, you learn to cope.

rebel leader!Seonghwa x rebel!reader

triggers: mentions of death, cursing

Post Date: November 1, 2021, 6 am EST

FIREWORKS |YEOSANG|

Yeosang prays you’ll come back.

pyrotechnic!Yeosang x rebel!reader

triggers: mentions of guns and death

Post Date: November 3, 2021, 6 am EST

BLACK CAT NERO |JONGHO|

Jongho sounds the call to action.

rebel!Jongho x rebel!reader

triggers: mentions of death

Post Date: November 5, 2021, 6 am EST

HALA HALA |HONGJOONG|

Hongjoong encounters one of the dead.

rebel leader!Hongjoong x rebel leader!reader

spinoff: Someday

triggers: guns, death, semi-graphic violence and blood

Post Date: November 7, 2021, 6 am EST

ANSWER |WOOYOUNG|

A year later, Wooyoung speaks to you.

rebel!Wooyoung x rebel!reader

triggers: mentions of guns, blood, death

Post Date: November 9, 2021, 6 am EST

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icouldntcareless22 · 4 months

Text

Step 1 : Set Boundaries

Hwang Hyunjin x Reader fluff, angst, friends to lovers, non idol au word count : 5.6k

Step 2 : Distract Yourself

Kim Seungmin x Reader fluff, angst, friends to lovers, non idol au word count : 4.3k

Step 3 : Don't Spend Time Alone

Lee Minho x Reader fluff, angst, friends to lovers, non idol au word count : 4.5k

Step 4 : Date Other People

Bang Chan x Reader fluff, angst, friends to lovers, non idol au word count : 4.9k

Step 5 : Never Confess

Seo Changbin x Reader fluff, angst, friends to lovers, non idol au word count : 2.8k

Step 6 : Focus On Yourself

Yang Jeongin x Reader fluff, angst, friends to lovers, non idol au word count : 4.6k

Step 7 : Don't Live Together

Han Jisung x Reader fluff, angst, friends to lovers, non idol au word count : 2.6k

Step 8 : Fall In Love Anyway

Lee Felix x Reader fluff, angst, friends to lovers, non idol au word count : 3.1k

A/N : There is no posting schedule for this series because I have no idea how long it will take me to write each part, but I will try to get at least 1 part out every week. I will also be opening a taglist for this series if anyone is interested in being added.

If you like my work, buy me a coffee?

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icouldntcareless22 · 5 months

Text

seven dates to fall in love

part two. (coming soon)

pairing : hyunjin x gn!reader

summary : after a two year long unspoken hatred, hyunjin and you are forced to be costars in a romantic series, but when it comes to filming any of the romance scenes, you both utterly fail and are unable to get through your lines. the director threatens to take your roles away if you two aren't able to get past this within the next week, which spawns the genius idea from both your managers: can you learn to (fake) fall in love in seven dates and save your careers?

wc : 4.3k

cw : actor!au, enemies to lovers ?!, slowburn (?!), cursing, one gorey joke thing, arguing, they;re each other's biggest haters, let me know if i missed anything !!

a/n : this is part one of a possible mini series! not sure how many parts this will be, but let me know what you think <33!! likes, reblogs, and feedback is always appreciated. this is supposed to be an uncomfortable read so i hope i got the vibe down LMAO this is also more to set the scene/story so not much going on in this part...

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Tears rolled down your cheeks as Hyunjin cupped your face, lips trembling as your doe eyes looked into Hyunjin’s. His hands gently rested on your cheek, his palms cool to the touch in contrast to your warm tears. His eyebrows furrowed in concern as his thumb gently caressed your cheek in an attempt to soothe your broken heart, yet his eyes lacked any emotions, no love to be found behind his cold, dark eyes. His body was stiff and uncomfortable, his movements almost robotic as he tried to lean closer to your face, yet all you could do was roll your eyes and sigh, as you braced yourself for what was next.

“Cut!” yelled the director furiously, a frown painted on his face, “This is ridiculous! We are never going to finish filming if you two can’t act out a simple kiss scene with each other.”

Hyunjin and you instantly jumped away from each other, not missing the chance to glare at the other as the director chastised you both.

“You two are amazing actors, that’s why I picked you both for these roles, I’ve seen you both act these kinds of scenes before, but my god, do you two lack chemistry,” ranted the director, his face reddening in frustration, “I get you two don’t like each other, but your entire job is to act like it for a bit. If you guys can’t solve this, then one of you is getting kicked off the project and being replaced.”

The last sentence caused you both to snap your heads towards him, eyes widened in disbelief as you scoffed, “It’s not my fault he doesn’t know how to fucking act properly! He’s the one who is messing up the scenes,” pointing your finger accusingly towards Hyunjin.

Hyunjin crossed his arms defensively, venom lacing his words as he spat with incredulity, “Me? Please, I should be getting paid more for having to pretend to be in love with that face of yours.”

You turned to Hyunjin once more, your hands balling into a fist as you opened your mouth to speak, but you were quickly cut off, “Save it, I don’t have time to listen to your childish arguments anymore. I will give you guys one week to figure this out, and if you are not able to get through this scene, consider it over for one of you,” promptly spoke the director before turning to the crew, “Everyone, go home. We’ll come back in a week from now and hopefully we will have something to work with.”

As everyone began to shuffle off set, you stomped your way to the dressing room, wanting nothing more to get away from Hyunjin at that moment as a rageful fire burned inside of you. You slammed the door open as you slumped in your seat, seething as you remembered Hyunjin’s words and how unlucky you were that he had to be your costar. You sighed as your manager entered right after you, a serious look taking over his features, “Y/N…”

“I know, I know!” you groaned, rubbing your face with your hands out of frustration, “I know a lot rides on this project and I promise I am trying my best to work with him, but he makes it so difficult too!”

Your manager, Chan, gave you a sympathetic look while shaking his head, “Well, you two are going to need to get over your differences somehow. This will look really bad for you if you get kicked off and you will be less likely to get any other roles in the future,” he murmured, “I will… talk to Hyunjin’s manager and see if we can figure something out, okay?”

You removed your hands from your face, your apologetic eyes meeting Chan’s, “I’m sorry, he just really knows how to get under my skin.”

“It’s alright, we’ll work something out. I’m not letting you lose this opportunity,” he promised before stepping out of the room, presumably to meet Hyunjin’s manager.

Sighing once more, you recalled the day you met Hyunjin on the set of another project two years ago. Initially, you both seemed to get along really well with each other and had great chemistry on camera, as you each were playing two side characters that had a small romance flourishing in the film. Yet, somewhere along the line, your relationship with Hyunjin soured out of nowhere, him suddenly being cold with you and making snide remarks every chance he had. It created such an uncomfortable work environment, you almost considered dropping acting altogether, afraid to encounter other similar characters like him. Luckily, Chan had convinced you otherwise, reassuring you he would do everything in his power to avoid any projects with him in it and also insisting your talents would go to waste if you let one guy ruin it all. Besides, you loved acting and you were slowly making your dreams come true. Why would you ever let Hyunjin of all people ruin it for you?

Ever since then, you despised Hyunjin due to his treatment of you and whenever you did have the misfortune of running into him, you did your best to keep it curt and cordial, never lingering around too long. He seemed to be on the same page as you, but the look on his face spoke of every nasty thought he was holding back on, and you hated him for it.

And while Chan did hold up on his end of his promise, it all came crashing down at this latest project. This was an offer neither you or Hyunjin could resist, especially when the writers, producers, and director personally approached both your managers and offered the role to you directly, plopping the opportunity right in your lap. The writers really wanted you both to be the leads, believing you two were perfect for the roles and had even seen that one film project you and Hyunjin did years ago, which unfortunately set their expectations extremely high, which led to the disaster you two are currently in.

It was impossible to say no to them, especially when they went out their way to contact you, and the script was great, it seemed like something you would have so much fun filming it, yet Hyunjin was quick to suck out all the joy from it.

You tried, you really tried to be as professional as possible with Hyunjin, and filming went pretty well the first few days. In fact, it may have gone a little too well that you both left the entire staff speechless after filming an argument scene between the two main characters. So much so, that the director applauded at how real you two were able to portray the scene, even bringing him to tears as he beamed proudly at you two, assuring him that he had made the perfect casting decision. Little did anyone know, you and Hyunjin’s scripted argument was not acting at all, but was a reflection of how you felt about each other. The rageful yelling, the resentful expressions, the improvised insults, and emotions were all entirely real - there was no need for acting when you both loathed one another.

Once it was time to finally start filming the romantic elements, the prospects of this being the next greatest show was squandered instantaneously by the painful awkwardness between you and Hyunjin. And to be honest, it was mostly Hyunjin who was tripping up during these scenes, making anyone who witnessed his weak attempts of being romantic with you cringed due to how much he struggled to even look at you and treat you like a person. Every now and then, you’d find yourself breaking character, but for the most part you were able to get through your lines pretty convincingly. Although, for some reason, Hyunjin was having an incredibly difficult time completing most of his lines and struggled keeping that abhorrent scowl off his face. Yet, even though you had managed to do quite well, you were also being punished by Hyunjin’s ineptitude.

How on Earth was this supposed to all be resolved in one week? This was a two year long feud that was not simply going to disappear over the course of the week, but you knew both of you were too competitive to let this project go. Somehow, it would just have to work out, but it was a matter of how. As you lost yourself in thought, the door to the room opened once more with a nervous Chan standing at the entrance.

You raised your eyebrows in concern as you examined Chan’s anxious body language, “What happened?”

He gently closed the door behind me, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand, “So… I talked to the producers and Hyunjin’s manager…”

You nodded your head, encouraging him to continue, “Okay, go on. What did they say?”

“They’re really upset and disappointed, as they had really high expectations and now they've decided that they’ll just replace both of you if next week doesn’t go well.”

“What?!” You jumped from your seat in shock, no longer having the possible safety of remaining on the project to back you up.

“And I don’t think I need to tell you how much worse this will be for both your public images,” Chan spoke nervously, almost as if he was dreading to share the rest of the conversation with you, “So, Changbin and I spoke, and as both your managers, we think you two need to do something to get over this bump.”

Your eyes narrowed as you tried to decode Chan’s words, “Uh huh, which means what exactly…?”

“You’re really not going to like this, I’m really sorry, I tried to think of other solutions, b-”

“Please, Chan, just spit it out already.”

Chan sighed, “Well, Changbin and I think the best way you guys can learn to recreate that kind of romantic chemistry is by, well… going on dates this next week? You know, learn to get used to being romantic with each other so it's easier to act it out on camera.”

Your jaw dropped as your eyes bored into Chan’s as annoyance made its way into your body, “No, absolutely not! I want nothing to do with that man, that sounds like a terrible idea!” you exclaimed, your face contorting into a frown as your voice grew louder.

Chan lifted his hands before him in an attempt to fan the flames of your anger, “Y/N, I know, I know, but this is the best we got for now! Do you have any other better ideas?”

Your shoulders slumped in defeat as you shook your head, “No, but… That just sounds like a week of pure torture!” you whined, Chan’s face dropping into an apologetic expression.

“Just promise me you will try your best? It’s only for a week, and then all you will have to do is get through the rest of filming.”

“I guess,” you grumbled, turning your back to Chan as you ran your hands through your hair, “Let’s just hope Hyunjin isn’t too much of a pain in the ass.”

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The next day rolled around as you waited outside of your apartment building with a miffed expression on your face, tapping your feet impatiently as you pulled out your phone to check the time.

7:10pm.

Great, Hyunjin was now ten minutes late to pick you up for your first oh-so practice dates. You felt yourself grow angrier as the minutes passed, your veins burning hot as you contemplated going back inside and calling Chan to yell at him how this idea was never going to work, but before you could, a black car with tinted windows pulled up next to you. The window on the passenger side rolled down, revealing an upset Hyunjin in the driver’s side who called out to you, “Wow, don’t look too happy to see me. Get in.”

This only made your frown deepen as you rolled your eyes, opening the car door to take a seat, “Whatever. Couldn’t even open the car door for me, huh?” you slammed the door shut, crossing your arms as you looked ahead, avoiding Hyunjin’s gaze.

He scoffed while putting the car in drive, “Now why the hell would I do that?”

“Aren’t you supposed to learn how to be all gentlemanly and shit? Isn’t this why we’re doing this?” you snapped, nails digging into your hands as you clenched them in an attempt to hold your anger in.

Hyunjin only shrugged, “Funny you think you deserve that treatment. Just shut up and let's get this over with.”

You held your tongue, resisting the urge to start another quarrel with him in this car ride to whatever restaurant Changbin reserved for you two. It was a 20 minute drive and you refused to waste your breath on some argumentative asshole, and reminded yourself that at the very least you’d be eating something delicious soon enough.The car ride was tense as neither of you dared to speak, especially after Hyunjin turned the music up to hide the deafening silence that hung in the air. As soon as you both arrived at the restaurant, you exited the car in a hurry, desperate for a breath of fresh air and some reprieve from the tension you just sat in. Unsurprisingly, Hyunjin strolled right ahead of you, not making any sort of effort to acknowledge your existence as he marched through the restaurant's front doors as soon as he exited the car, causing you to chase after him just to keep up with his long strides. Truthfully, it felt like Hyunjin was just trying to piss you off, and it was working.

Upon entering the building, you realized Changbin had definitely booked you guys an extremely upscale restaurant, which explains why he was so insistent on making sure you both dress formally. Everyone in here reeked of affluence, and while you and Hyunjin were able to afford these luxuries due to the success of your careers, you still couldn’t help but feel out of place. The other patrons were dressed similarly to you, but there was this extra layer of otherworldly riches radiating off of them. Perhaps it was their mannerism or the snobby, fake, business smiles exchanged amongst them, but something about this place was extremely unsettling.

Hyunjin approached the host with a polite smile, “Reservation for Hwang.”

The host nodded, retrieving two menus before standing in front of both of you, bowing “Mister and Mx. Hwang, please follow me this way.”

Your body physically recoiled with disgust and shock when you heard the host refer to you as Mx. Hwang, wanting to immediately correct him, yet you reminded yourself you were here on a date, so it would be best to try to immerse yourself into the role as much as you can for the sake of your career and the future of this current project. The host led you to your table, which was thankfully located in a more secluded corner of the restaurant, a small candle in the middle of it to help set the romantic mood.

You thank the host as you sat down, graciously taking the menu from his hand with a smile, which dropped into a glower as soon as the host left, “Are you not taking any of this seriously?”

Hyunjin pursed his lips, his eyes scanning the menu in his hand, “You expect me to take you seriously?”

Your jaw dropped, completely flabbergasted at his lack of concern over the situation he put you both in, “What the fuck is your problem?” you growled in a syncopated whisper, trying not to draw any attention to you, “Do you not care about the possibility of both of us losing our roles?”

Hyunjin let out another exasperated sigh, as if you were inconveniencing him, “I am trying to get through his evening with you without wanting to gouge my eyes out,” he dramatically plopped the menu down on the table, “I do care, of course I fucking care.”

“Then can you at least act like it?” you whispered angrily.

“Maybe if you would shut up-”

Before Hyunjin could finish his statement, the waiter came by with an excited and hospitable smile, “Hello, Mister and Mx. Hwang! I hope you both are having a lovely evening. I’ll be your server for the night, can I interest you guys in a bottle of wine before we get started with food?”

You smiled at the server, nodding your head, “Oh, yes, that sounds wonderful. We’ll take whichever one you recommend.”

The server nodded sweetly, blissfully unaware of the tension between the two of you, “Great! I’ll bring out one of the house favorites for you two to try, I’ll be back shortly.”

As soon as the server was out of earshot, you glared down at Hyunjin once more, gripping the menu in hand as your knuckles turned white, “I am going to pretend I didn’t hear you. Do you know what you’re going to order?” you asked, trying to at least make some sort of conversation with him.

Except, Hyunjin just hums a response as his eyes return to the menu, choosing to ignore your question as the chatter of other patrons fills the silence. You let out a heavy exhale, debating on whether you should reach over the table and slap him, play along with him, or continue trying for, once again, the sake of your careers. “Well, I’m going to get the filet mignon. I think it’ll pair nicely with the wine.”

Hyunjin continued to ignore you, now scrolling through his phone which caused your anger to boil up within you as you wondered how on Earth you were going to get through the rest of the night with any sort of progress. “Seriously, Hyunjin? Are you not even going to try?”

He looked up from his phone, an unamused look painting his features, “Please just shut the fuck up. It would make this night a whole lot more bearable if you knew how to keep your mouth shut.”

“Hwang Hyunjin, I swear to f-”

“Alright, here you go,” the waiter returned with a cheery smile, setting down to glass cups while popping open a bottle of wine, “Are you two ready to order?” he beamed as he poured a healthy amount of wine in each of your glasses, and lord knows you need a drink right now.

“Ah, thank you,” you forced a courteous smile, “I’ll take the filet mignon, please.”

“Alright, and what about you, sir?”

“I’ll have the whole grilled snapper, thank you.”

“Perfect, I’ll have those out as soon as they’re ready.”

You felt yourself growing incredibly frustrated as time ticked by, unable to sit still in your seat due to the roaring fury you felt inside of you. You just could not understand why Hyunjin was so hateful towards you, you had no idea what caused him to behave this way with you and you were growing sick of it. Maybe you could confront him about it, but right now, you were way too riled up to even think of having that conversation with him. Your face was stuck in a permanent scowl as Hyunjin wore a blank expression, seemingly not caring about the circumstance you both were in. It floored you that Hyunjin wasn’t taking any of this seriously. He said he cared about the fact he was at risk of losing this role, yet his actions and attitude said otherwise.

If looks could kill, Hyunjin would’ve been dead ten times over, yet as he looked up to meet your eyes, he returned your gaze with a humorless one, “You know, staring is rude.”

It was taking an exuberant amount of self control for you to hold it together, “I just can’t understand how you’re so relaxed about this. It’s like you want us both to get dropped from this project.”

“Like I said, I do care, but this whole arrangement isn’t so easy to do,” he said sternly, “You’re not even giving me the chance to get comfortable. You can’t just expect me to be able to act like we don’t hate each other. And pressuring me isn’t helping much either, is it?”

You bit the inside of the cheek, recognizing that Hyunjin wasn’t entirely wrong in how he was feeling. “I guess so,” was all you could manage to reply, not willing to give him the satisfaction that he was right.

Once more, an uncomfortable, tense silence loomed over as you each waited for your food. You decided it was best to deal with this rather than forcing a conversation, perhaps it was best to let Hyunjin take the lead since he was the one struggling with this disaster. Despite the heavy atmosphere, you found your muscles slowly relaxing as time went on as your focus returned to the environment around you, how decadent each detail of the restaurant was and the false laughters of businessmen filled your ears.

The waiter returned with both your meals in hand, grinning from ear to ear, “Alright, here’s the grilled snapper for you, sir,” he carefully laid the plate in front of Hyunjin before turning to you with a sweet smile, “And here’s the filet mignon for the beautiful Mx. Hwang.”

You noticed Hyunjin trying to hold back a teasing laugh at the waiter’s comment, even going as far to add, “They’re lovely, aren’t they?” But only you could see through the fakeness Hyunjin wore as the waiter politely agreed, causing you to kick Hyunjin hard in the shin from under the table. Hyunjin’s face winced as he thanked the waiter for the food before glaring at you, “What? You want us to act like a couple, but the moment I do something, you have a problem with it?”

You grumbled, annoyance lacing your voice, “Oh, shut up. You were being sarcastic, you asshole.”

“Oh, really? I would say our server didn’t have a clue, I’d say I’m a pretty good actor,” he smirked, picking up his fork and knife, “Let’s just enjoy our food, hm?”

You returned Hyunjin’s smirk with an insincere smile, “You’re right, it’s probably the only good thing that’ll come out this evening.”

Hyunjin only hummed in agreement, choosing to ignore your comment as he dug into his food, you doing the same as the familiar tense silence enveloped you once more. In all honesty, this felt like it was going nowhere, it felt like this whole project was doomed from the very inception of it and Hyunjin’s stubbornness was only making this more difficult than it needed to be. The idea that you had to put your full trust and the fate of your career in someone else was too much, it was ridiculous, yet here you were, with the man you loathed the most having full control on whether this project would be a success or a blemish on your career. His lack of cooperation filled you with anxiety, yet you knew you had no choice. Patience wasn’t always your strong suit, but Hyunjin never failed to test it and you weren’t sure if you were going to survive this entire week if this was how every meeting was going to be like.

You were half way through your meal when Hyunjin cleared his throat, snapping you out of your thoughts, “So, why did you take the project knowing I was going to be the male lead?”

You snorted at his question, “Could be asking you the same thing.”

“Well, I honestly took the role thinking you wouldn’t do it knowing it was me as the lead,” mumbled Hyunjin.

“Wow,” you stared at him with disbelief in your eyes, “You really thought I’d reject a hand delivered opportunity?” you let out a surprised laugh, “Besides, the script seemed fun. Just didn’t realize you’d be so impossible to work with.”

“I see,” responded Hyunjin as he continued to eat, causing you to raise your eyebrow, fully expecting a witty response from him in return.

The rest of dinner went on without a word, that being the only exchange throughout the night. While it was not an enjoyable time, you and Hyunjin seemed to have agreed that the silence was far more welcomed than any bickering you two would engage in, preferring the uncomfortable peace over anything else.

The car ride home went the same, no words other than the loud music that drummed over your incessant thoughts, anxiety crawling throughout you as you began to worry that maybe you were losing out on the biggest role of your career, all thanks to Hyunjin of all people. If this didn’t work out, this would make it impossible for you to find other roles in the industry, as rumors would inevitably spread about how difficult it was to work with you and Hyunjin. You couldn’t trust him one bit, you had no faith in him that he would be able to get over his own differences with you, ones that you still had no idea where they even spawned from.

As soon as Hyunjin pulled up in front of your apartment, you left his car without a word, not even looking back before making your way up to your unit. You pulled out your phone as you unlocked the front door, stumbling as you dialed Chan’s number.

“Oh, Y/N! How did it go?”

“Chan, this isn’t going to work. We’re fucked.”

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icouldntcareless22 · 5 months

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⚝ A Conversation With The Artist | Interactive Remaster

Read A Conversation With The Artist in an atmospheric interactive format and pave your own path 🐱‍👓

The remastered version includes;

⚝ Rewritten sections of the original story ⚝ Brand-new scenes ⚝ Immersive audio (Device limitations. See "How to play") ⚝ 1 bonus smut scene you can unlock ⚝ 4+1 different endings

Check out the story details on the content card linked below. If you're going to be playing for the first time, take a few moments to read "How to play" to choose the right device and get to know the game options. Just to ensure you get the best experience 😊

May the odds be with you 🎲 Share the endings you get with me!

📨 If you enjoyed this experience, reblogs & comments would be much appreciated as they are the ultimate motivation fuel.

• Content card • Feelfolio Home • CB97% Navigation •

⚝ Tagging: Only accepted through form. See here.

If you don't see your URL below, either your blog's visibility settings don't allow me to tag you, or you are not following me.

↳ Permanent taglist: @straywrds @binstitsweat @fun-fanfics @inniescandy-01 @sai-kida134 @straydhampir @imseungminsgf @staysincecb97 @changbinniesjutndae @changbinheart @chansbabygirlsstuff @jhstayy @lily-loves-kpop @ddnillx @angieskzzzz @dessianna1 @rachabreathing @queerpumpkinnn @laylasbunbunny @vampcharxter @jiwoos-babygirl

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icouldntcareless22 · 5 months

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Addicting Kitten Masterpost - Seonghwa x Reader (NSFW)

PART ONE - When your car breaks down and your phone is dead, you are stranded alone on the way home. However, when Seonghwa, the intimidating figure you see at the club often, comes by and offers you a ride, you cannot help but feel as if you might be walking into the lion’s den.

PART TWO - After an intense encounter with Seonghwa, you don’t want to end up just another name on his list. But attempting to avoid him leads to falling further down the rabbit hole.

PART THREE - After a face time call, Seonghwa has invited you over to stay the night. Excited but extremely nervous, you wonder how the night is going to play out - and what you will learn about him.

PART FOUR - After a horrible day, you try to cancel plans on Seonghwa. But when he offers to come over to comfort you, you end up discovering a different side of him…and perhaps realize something as well.

FINAL PART - When things at the club get heated, your relationship with Seonghwa takes a turn.

EPILOGUE - A summer trip with your boyfriend, Seonghwa, doesn’t go exactly how you planned.

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icouldntcareless22 · 5 months

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| in love and lore | masterlist |

pairing: ateez x fem reader (poly fic)

genre: fantasy/daemon/soulmate au

warnings: some cursing, violence, death, overarching yandere themes

summary: the daemon king and his seven black generals. names and faces of these eight had changed over the years as each new king was crowned, but their reputation as the most powerful daemons always remained the same. upon hearing the rumors one of the seven led the charge of the nearby battle, you should have stayed close to the encampment. you should have never wandered out on your own. but you did, and your life would never be the same again. good or bad, you would just have to wait to find out.

“There’s no need to be afraid, angel.” His words were a breath against the side of your neck. “You’ve done so much for us, let your king now return the favor.”

status: in progress

current word count: 111k

~ main story

other

| weapons | sparring headcanons |

*image is not mine

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icouldntcareless22 · 6 months

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As a Matter of Fact [Masterlist]

reader x woozi

summary: when you're caught in a simple lie, the best solution? dig in your heels and stick to your guns until everything inevitably goes wrong and everyone gets hurt

or, a serial dater and a pessimist fake a relationship in the vain hope that nothing will go wrong

genre: fluff, angst, non-idol au, lawyer au, coworkers to lovers??? friends to lovers???? fake dating!!!!!

warnings: drinking, food, arguing, refusal to acknowledge feelings, two kisses, whatever is going on with Wonwoo, suggestive jokes (courtesy of Wonwoo)

full wc: 38k (varying per chapter)

a/n: i am so so excited to announce that the first chapter will be dropping a week from today, February 14! i haven't decided what (if there will be) specific time so. sorry <3

status: complete!

also special shoutout to @chocolatemilk139 for helping me with the chapter titles :)

want to join the taglist? send an ask or comment!

star’s masterlist

teaser!

1. The Mistake

2. What Happens in the Closet...

3. f=m(a) (Friends Make Anger Issues)

4. The Benefits of Being Stuck in an Enclosed Space (Again)

5. The Consequences of Tequila

6. The Unstoppable Force

7. The Catacylsm

8. Define: Friend

9. The Immovable Object

taglist under the cut!

@dejavernon @hwashiningstar @hotricewoozi

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icouldntcareless22 · 6 months

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What? Like It’s Hard?

gn reader x soonyoung

summary: With the help of a little bit of bleach, Soonyoung is certified legally blonde–complete to last minute-dedication to scoring as high as Elle Woods on the LSAT. While he has no interest in law school, he’s notorious for never turning down a dare. So how does a frat bro in serious danger of failing his senior year get a 179? He asks the smartest person he knows.

Or, studying for a law test has never seen this much chemistry.

genre: fluff, angst, non-idol au, uni au, friends to lovers, opposites attract

warnings: swearing, drinking, food, arguing, a couple sex jokes, one spicy scene at the end but no actual smut, refusal to acknowledge feelings, what's the word for beyond oblivious????

full wc: 24.3k

playlist! - i'm not very good at this but i tried to add songs alternating between yn and soonyoung :)

a/n: hello!! first of all, sorry this so long! it's been a very very busy summer. thank you to everyone who has continued to show interest in the story, it's really kept me going. i honestly have no idea what this is anymore but i hope it does not disappoint :) as always i appreciate feedback of any form <3 thank you again for reading and have a lovely day! finally, happy scoups day :)

a/n2: a special shout out to @chocolatemilk139 for being my beta and for helping me fact check... why do i keep writing about lawyers when i know absolutely nothing about the field.......

“Nope.” You grab your backpack, shoving your laptop inside, but he gets to your water bottle before you can reach it.

“Come on.” Soonyoung pouts his lips.

“I won’t do it,” you say.

Soonyoung hugs your water bottle hostage against his chest, dark blue hiding in the crook of his elbow, bright against the pale pink sweater he wears. It’s an unusual choice for him, normally clad in baggy jeans and loose t-shirts. Still, the color highlights his new hair, blonde bordering on white. Hardly the first time he’s done something insane for a bet.

“Please! I’m desperate!” He cries again, stepping closer, though he keeps a firm grip on your water bottle. You never should have told him how emotionally attached you are to it; you should have known it would be held against you.

“No,” you say. You sling your backpack on, just in case he gets any other ideas. The other students shoot dirty looks at you, actually in the library to study (like you were, until Soonyoung arrived). So you grab him by the arm, rolling your eyes at how he jerks the water bottle out of reach.

“Walk and talk, we’re not doing this here,” you say, folding your arms over your chest.

“Come on, how hard can it be?” Soonyoung asks. “It’s just a test.”

“Just a test?” You snort. “Soonyoung, you are aware that most people don’t apply to law school on a dare?”

“I don’t have to get into law school!” He says, “just get a 179 on the LSAT.”

As if that makes it any better. You eye Soonyoung and his tight grip on the plastic. Maybe it’s a lost cause and you should just swing by the bookstore to get a new one instead. But that water bottle has butterfly stickers that have survived since freshman year and a dent from the time Jun tried to use it as a weapon in a fight against Jihoon (that was declared a draw when the bottle busted open and doused both of them equally); it holds memories better than water and you’ll be damned if you let Soonyoung hold it hostage.

“That’s actually harder,” you mumble. From the corner of your eye, you can see him tucking the blue bottle under his right arm, farthest from you. This won’t be easy, especially since you saw the poorly disguised thirst trap of him and one of his frat bros at the gym: those arms are not to be underestimated.

“I’ll pay you!”

“With what money?”

Soonyoung pauses. You’ve reached the exit by now, sunlight warming you through the glass doors. He turns to the sunlight, and you know he’s pretending to be a main character from an artsy film (not that he’s ever seen on). He takes a deep breath, as if he already regrets what he has to say next.

“Okay, I’ll offer you the only services I have.” He turns to face you, eyes on the floor.

“Oh my god, Soonyoung!” You shove his shoulder. “You are not selling your body for a test!”

“But it’s all I know!” He says. He pokes your arms. “You could have so much muscle if you lifted just twice a week.”

“Oh.” You blink at him. “You meant working out?”

“What did you think I meant?”

You feel heat rush into your cheeks. You push the door open, praying Soonyoung doesn’t notice. “It doesn’t matter,” you say, not daring to check if he’s following. “I don’t have time to workout.”

“Then what do you want?” Soonyoung asks. He stays just out of reach, adjusting his grip so that the water bottle hangs from his hand. “Please, I’ll do anything!”

“Why do you need me?”

“Because you’re the smartest person I know,” he says without hesitation. In the three years of your friendship, you’ve learned that the only time Soonyoung isn’t serious is when he flirts.

“You are,” he insists. “Plus you’ve already taken it, so you’re my best chance. My only chance, it’s not like I have a good track record with tests.” He gives you a lopsided smile as he tries to pretend like he’s joking. But Soonyoung has always been easy to read. You see the sparkle in his eyes dim, and you remember freshman Soonyoung–when he failed the midterm and holed up in his room in the frat house for two full days, not even venturing out to drink. It’s that damn sparkle that gets to you. He isn’t paying attention anymore, water bottle hanging loosely from his hand, but you can’t bring yourself to snatch it.

“You can pass it,” you say with a sigh. “It’s about studying correctly.”

“I don’t know,” Soonyoung says. “I’ve never really studied.”

“Well, that’s what I’ll teach you.”

Soonyoung freezes, grabbing your arm. “Seriously?” When you turn to face him, his smile is so bright it warms you from the inside out, hotter than the actual sun on your skin. He throws his arms around you, wrapping you in a hug so tight he lifts you off the ground. Your heart does this strange thing where it hops into your throat. Your arms come up as a reflex but his embrace is too tight for you to even hug him back.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” He shouts. He doesn’t let go, even when he sets you back down. He loosens his arms just enough to look at you, the full force of his smile directed at you. “I swear you’re welcome at the frat house any time, I’ll buy you anything you want when I have money, I’ll drive you wherever you want if I can get Seungcheol’s car, I’ll do whatever, just thank you, thank you, thank you.”

You know you should answer, or say something, but thinking is too much when he’s so close you can smell the strangely sweet combination of laundry detergent, cologne, and sweat. You push out of his arms, snagging your water bottle on the way out.

“It’s whatever,” you mumble. Though his arms aren’t around you anymore, you feel strangely hot, like your blood is boiling, and your heart still pounds.

“It is not whatever,” Soonyoung declares. “I swear, whatever you want, I’ll do it.” He holds a hand over his heart and if it was anyone else you’d think they were joking but it’s Soonyoung: he’s deadly serious.

You can’t handle his gaze anymore, turning to study your beat up sneakers. “Really? You’ll get my first edition copy of Pride and Prejudice from Jun?”

“I’ll get that book back.” He glances at you. “It is a book, right?”

“Yeah,” you say. “Though there’s been some good adaptations.”

“That’s the one with the zombies?”

“Zombies?” You frown. “Oh my god, do you mean Pride and Prejudice and Zombies?”

“That’s not the original book?”

“No,” you say, laughing. “The original is Jane Austen, in the 1800s.”

“Oh,” Soonyoung says.

“I’ve actually never seen that one,” you say. “It’s the only adaptation I haven’t seen.”

“How many movies are there?”

“Well, there’s the 1940 adaptation, the BBC series that’s widely regarded as the most faithful adaptation, the 2005 Kiera Knightley movie that’s iconic, plus the Lizzie Bennet Diaries, which is a vlog-style Youtube adaptation. Then of course there’s Jane Austen’s other works, like Persuasion, which, the new one, for the record, was a terrible adaptation.” You stop when you realize you’re dangerously close to going on what Jihoon calls ‘an Austen tirade.’

“I liked the movie,” he says after a pause. “I don’t know if it was that good, or close to the books. But it was fun.”

“I’ll have to watch it, then,” you say. “I know it’s the obvious choice, but Pride and Prejudice really is my favorite Jane Austen novel. Good luck getting it back from Jun though. He’s studying abroad this semester.”

“He’s the friend from your history class?”

“No, that’s Jihoon, my roommate,” you say. “Jun was in my language class.”

“I thought you hated everyone in that class.”

“Oh, I did,” you say. “But Jun is friends with Jihoon, so he sort of just became my friend too.”

Soonyoung hums, saying nothing else. You don’t recognize the song, though you tend to mostly listen to classical music when you study or whatever Jihoon blasts from his room, so it’s not that surprising. The melody is nice, though. Well, Soonyoung’s voice is.

“I really am grateful,” Soonyoung says. “I know I was begging, because I don’t think I can do this without you–well, I don’t know if I can do it with you, but you’re my only hope and–I’m rambling again.” He flashes a smile. “The point is, thank you.”

You shrug, feeling shy under his gaze. “It’ll help me study anyways,” you say. “You learn a lot when you teach.”

“I thought you already took it?”

“I only got a 150,” you say, sighing. “I need at least a 165.”

Soonyoung nods, forehead creasing like it always does when he’s lost in thought. “Thank you anyway.”

“Well, you swore to do whatever I tell you,” you say, desperate to change the subject. “Don’t think I won’t abuse that.”

“Oh, YN,” he says, “I’m counting on it.” He even winks.

You cough, choking at the outright flirting. Soonyoung hasn’t tried a line on you in so long you thought he’d used them all. He isn’t serious–it was engraved in his DNA the second he became a fully fledged member of Sigma Beta Tau but it’s not like many people flirt with you, so it’s hard to stop your heart from jumping.

You check your phone, unable to look him in the eyes. It’s 2:18 now, prime naptime if you can get back to your apartment before Jihoon gets back. But if it’s past two, unless he lied to you at the start of the semester, that means Soonyoung should be in his data ethics class. “Hey, don’t you have class right now?”

Soonyoung glances at the time on his phone. “Shit.” He takes off, sprinting across the grass, dodging three picnics and narrowly avoiding getting rocked in the back of the head by a frisbee. He pauses at the edge, turning back around to wave wildly at you.

“Thank you!” He shouts. The picnickers glance between you and him and you can feel the blush returning. Soonyoung doesn’t notice all the eyes on him, waving like a goofball one final time before sprinting off again. Like a whirlwind, he’s gone again, leaving you to stroll across campus and wonder what you just signed up for.

Soonyoung’s brow furrows into a frown, lips pulling together in a pout. He rests his chin on his hands, looking up at you from the table like a puppy that knows he’s in trouble. “That bad?”

“Your analytical reasoning was good!” You say, not wanting to destroy him just yet. “The logical analysis wasn’t that bad either, you just need practice.”

“Wasn’t there a third section?”

“The score for reading comprehension was pretty bad.” Horrendous, actually, but you can’t tell him that, not when he’s deflating faster than a balloon at a knife throwing contest. He sits back, head knocking lightly against the back of the stiff library chairs.

“We can work with this! It’s really not that bad,” you say. You reach out instinctively, wrapping your hands over his hands. Your thumb rests against the soft smooth skin of the back of his hand, the rest of your fingers brushing lightly against his calloused fingers. You jerk back when you realize what you’re doing, patting his hands once and grabbing the workbook in front of him as if it’s what you meant to do all along. You study the upside down words, not daring to look at the disgust that’s probably painted on Soonyoung’s face.

“You can start with practicing the logic problems,” you say, flipping through the work book. “I’ll figure out a strategy for the reading portion.”

Soonyoung heaves a sigh, sitting up and hunching over the workbook. You flip open one of your old workbooks and try to pretend like you’re not trying to melt away from embarrassment.

“This isn’t very much teaching,” Soonyoung says without looking up. “Lots of problem solving.”

“I don’t really know what I’m doing either,” you say. “I just watched a lot of youtube videos when I was studying last year. I should have known better than to take it over the summer, though.”

Soonyoung glances up. “How come?”

You chew on your lip. You’ve known Soonyoung for a while now, but you’ve never talked to him like this, mentioning any real things other than complaining about roommates. Soonyoung would listen, probably say the ‘right’ things, but it’s a study session, so you just say, “Just not good timing.”

He nods, returning to his humming. You turn to your own workbook, trying to figure out how to get Soonyoung to actually read the passages for the reading comprehension. Twenty minutes pass in an instant and Soonyoung drops his pencil, sliding his journal with the answers back in front of you. You flip to the answer key, scanning between the two.

“When are you taking it again?” Soonyoung asks while he waits.

“Just before Halloween,” you say. Exactly 38 days from now, according to the IMPENDING DOOM countdown clock on your phone.

“That soon?”

You shrug. “I wanted to give myself time to take it again in case I bomb it and it had to be before midterms, so, yeah.”

“Is it really that bad to take all your tests at once?” Soonyoung asks.

“I mean, finals week pretty much kills me every semester. I actually thought I was cutting it close with only two weeks between it and midterms.”

“Is November cutting it too close?”

“Depends on when in November you plan on taking it,” you say, “though you probably won’t be able to take it again if you don’t like your score.”

“Not a problem for me,” Soonyoung says. He doesn’t waver against your raised eyebrow. “I’m getting that 179, first try.”

“You’re that confident?”

“In you.” He winks. “Also the bet is off if I don’t get it on the first try.”

You nod. “Yeah, that makes more sense.” You glance at your calendar. “

“November 18th.”

“That’s not too bad, you dodged between midterms and finals, there should be plenty of cram time.”

Soonyoung shrugs. “I just scheduled it so that I would get the results before the Christmas party.”

“I didn’t think you would be the religious type.”

“Oh, I’m not,” he says. “The frat has this annual post-finals party before people go back home for holiday break, usually on the last day of finals. There’s no way I’m letting Seungkwan get away with my hard earned Playstation, and there’s no way he’d miss the party.”

“You can’t just buy your own game?”

“It’s a console actually,” he says, “and that’s not the point.” You prepare for some lecture about honor or frat code or something overly dramatic and inspired by any of the countless war propaganda movies he loves, but he closes his mouth.

“I guess it doesn’t really matter,” you say. You turn back his sheet, half the answers marked with a dark blue X because red feels too cruel. “You’re clearly committed.”

He sighs at the answers, flipping back to the first question and frowning. You think the conversation is over, but without looking up from glaring at the right answers, he says, “You should come.”

“To?”

“The Christmas party.”

You stare at the top of his head but he doesn’t seem to notice. You wonder how he manages to keep his hair so blonde without ruining his scalp but you don’t see any dandruff. “Me?” You finally say.

“You said you’d come, like, freshman year,” he says. “You never did.”

You did promise, back when you saw him for class every day. But frat parties weren’t your scene back then. They aren’t your scene now. Nothing about blasting music and binge drinking appeals to you, and yet Soonyoung peeking at you from his notebook makes you feel guilty anyways. He looks at you like he really doesn’t understand why you wouldn’t want to go.

And that’s the worst part: for Soonyoung, you would go. When he looks at you with the damn Soonyoung Sparkle, you’d do anything.

“I’ll… think about it,” you finally say.

He looks at you for a moment longer, then nods, like he didn’t really expect you to say yes. You try not to feel like you’re letting him down.

“Can you explain this one to me,” he asks, turning the book so you can see it from across the table.

You skim the question, which turns out to be a series of questions about stained glass windows. You take a moment to glance between Soonyoung’s answers and the correct ones.

“Walk me through your process,” you say.

“Okay, I start with…”

“Soonyoung, are you even listening?”

He blinks at you, lifting his head from his arms. “Something about strategies? For reading?”

You snap the book shut, shaking your head. You open your mouth, speech on responsibility and studying on the tip of your tongue but one look into Soonyoung’s Sparkle Eyes (patent pending) and all the words are gone. You really need to figure out how to get around that super power.

“Come on, it’s so nice out,” he says. “We should be outside.” He grabs your hand. “This is not studying weather, this is dating weather.”

“Soonyoung your test is in two months, you seriously want to skip?” You don’t dignify the second part of his complaint with a response. The idea of Soonyoung on a date makes your stomach flip.

He sighs. “No, but it’s October, we won’t get many more nice days, so can we at least go outside?”

You hesitate a heartbeat too long and Soonyoung jumps up. He closes the workbook, knocking loose papers off the table and sending highlighters of every color flying in every direction. The chaos earns a couple side eyes from the people around you and a full on glare from the person directly next to him, but Soonyoung, as Soonyoung as ever, doesn’t seem to notice. He picks up the papers and highlighters, shoving them into his backpack without a folder and slinging it over his shoulder. You can only follow him, grabbing the drinks before he tries to carry them along his laptop. When it comes to Soonyoung, mixing liquids and technology is more dangerous than mixing alcohols. You haven’t forgotten The Coffee Incident, flooding his backpack at 8 in the morning.

He drags you out of the library, though you don’t put up much of a fight. Soonyoung makes you want to relax, just a little, and when he smiles back at you as soon as he steps out of the sunlight, you find you don’t regret a thing.

Soonyoung pulls his emergency blanket out of his blanket, passing it to you. He’s more prepared for naps than any class he’s ever taken but the thin fabric is soft so who are you to judge? He heads straight for the quad, which is already filled with people, some groups of friends, too many obvious couples with heads in each other's laps or arms wrapped around each other. Soonyoung settles down in a relatively unpopulated corner, taking the blanket back to shake it out the blanket a few times before laying it flat on the ground.

Soonyoung groans when you pull out the workbooks as soon as you sit down. “There isn’t anything more fun to study?”

“Soonyoung, it’s the LSAT,” you say. “It’s not really meant to be fun.”

“But–”

“You’re the one that wanted to go outside,” you remind him, tapping his arm with a pen. “If you’re too distracted we’ll have to go back into the library.”

He gazes at the other people laughing for a long moment before turning to face you again. You raise your eyebrows and he takes the workbook from your hands, flipping it open to the sticky-note bookmark.

The next twenty minutes are relatively quiet, the only noise coming from the chatter of the people around you, too far away to clearly hear, and Soonyoung humming while working through practice problems. You’re not sure if he even realizes he’s doing it, though he bobs his head slightly. You wonder what Soonyoung is like when he isn’t trying to get out of studying–even outside of the party invites you’ve avoided, you rarely see him on campus (because you aren’t on campus when you don’t have to be). You almost went to dinner with him to celebrate passing the business class freshman year where you met him, but you got food poisoning and he never rescheduled.

It’s for the best, though. Even like this, tutoring him minus payment of any kind, you can tell that spending too much time with him will be dangerous. He flirts so easily it feels genuine, and even though he can be ridiculous, he’s never been anything but lovely to you. And it doesn’t help that he’s hot. He glances up, as if he can feel you staring, but he just flashes a smile at you and ducks his head again. Damn frat bros with endearing charms that melt you like the perfect grilled cheese.

Perfectly blue without a cloud in sight, the sky is an empty canvas above you. The air is just the right temperature, just between hot and cold, the sun ensuring that it never dips into the latter. Just the slightest breeze kisses your skin, lifting the edges of the papers but never flipping them. Soonyoung was right: the perfect date weather.

“Soonyoung?” You turn your head to see a dark haired man standing over you. Wearing a t-shirt with the sleeves cut off and sides ripped open, you figure there’s a 80% chance he’s one of Soonyoung’s frat brothers.

“Seokmin?” Soonyoung frowns.

“You were actually serious?” Seokmin asks, gesturing to the books. “You know Seungkwan said it as a joke, right?”

“Yeah, but a bet is a bet,” Soonyoung says. “And I really want his Playstation.”

Seokmin snorts. “You know he only said it because he knows you can’t do it.”

“I’m not like I’m losing anything by trying.” Soonyoung sets his lips in a sharp line of determination (which you recognize from the dining hall when he sweet talks his way into free cookies). Seokmin raises his eyebrows at his aggression but eventually decides it’s not worth the fight. Instead, he plops down on the blanket, making a little triangle between the three of you.

“You must be YN,” he says, extending his hand. His easy smile and the way he sat down without waiting for an invitation reminds you of Soonyoung. Unlike the faux blonde, it feels foreign and you shift a little closer to Soonyoung instinctively.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you lie. Seokmin’s eyes curl into little half moons when he smiles, apparently not noticing your awkwardness. You can’t help but feel like he’s intruding as he turns to Soonyoung and asks him to explain what he’s doing. Soonyoung explains it well, though it helps that he was working on the analytical reasoning section.

It’s because he’s interrupting Soonyoung’s studying. That’s why it bothers you that he’s here, even though Soonyoung doesn’t seem to mind and Seokmin seems genuinely interested. Unfortunately, the revelation doesn’t stop you from wishing Seokmin would just leave.

“I don’t know how you do any of this,” Seokmin says after Soonyoung explains the next problem.

“It’s easy!” Soonyoung says. “Half the time the answer is in the question, you just have to know where to look!”

“Quoting me?” You raise your eyebrows.

“Well I did learn from the best!”

“So cliche,” you mutter but the compliment gets you smiling anyway. You look up to find Seokmin looking at you. He has a strange look on his face, frowning, but not angrily. He looks a little bit like when Soonyoung can’t decide between the right answer and the second best option. He doesn’t look away when you catch him staring.

“What?”

He pauses a long moment before answering, as if pondering how to answer. Finally, he says, “I like you.”

You stare at him. Soonyoung had been diligently working on practice problems but his head jerks up at the words.

“I mean, you’re a cool person,” Seokmin quickly says. “Good tutor for Soonyoung.” After hearing his name, Soonyoung grins and turns back to underlining in the workbook.

“Tutor?” You say. “I really don’t think I’m doing all that much.”

Seokmin shrugs. ”I don’t know many people that would spend this much time with someone if they aren't helping. Besides, either way, I’ve never seen Soonyoung this dedicated before.”

“That’s because you don’t dare to bet against me,” Soonyoung says without looking up.

“He might have a point there,” you say. Soonyoung takes a moment to smile at your support.

“What I’m trying to say is that you’re cool,” Seokmin says.

“Thank you?” You wait for him to say something else but he sits back and rests his hands behind him, stretching out in the sun a little more. Sighing, he tilts his head toward the sun.

“Seems like the weather will turn cold soon,” he says. “This might be the last warm day of the year.” He glances at Soonyoung. “And you’re spending it here instead of pre-gaming the Tau party.”

Soonyoung’s pencil freezes. He peeks up at Seokmin, then at you, then shrugs. “I take my bets seriously.”

“Whatever,” Seokmin says. He lays back fully, half of his body sticking off the blanket into the grass. “What are the Ke$ha lyrics? ‘The party don’t start ‘til Soonyoung walks in?’” He doesn’t wait for a correction. “I think I’ll wait until you're finished and we’ll tear it up together.”

Soonyoung glances at you, then unsuccessfully tries to hide his laughter at your expression. You don’t mean to be rude, but Seokmin really just invited himself all on his own and crashed your picnic. Study date. Outdoor study session. The name doesn’t matter, what does matter is it’s only supposed to be you and Soonyoung.

“He’ll fall asleep in about five seconds,” Soonyoung whispers. “He doesn’t actually care about the party, he just likes my nap blankets.” On that point you can’t really blame Seokmin.

“As long as it doesn’t disrupt your studying,” you say.

“Right,” Soonyoung says, more to himself than you. “That’s what’s important.”

You aren’t so oblivious that you miss his bitterness, but you are enough of a coward to decide not to ask about it. How do you even ask about something like that? You can barely answer his questions about the LSAT, so feelings? No chance.

You flip open your own workbook and set a pencil case down to keep the book open and ignore the soft snores from Seokmin. Soonyoung hums, the soft breeze carrying the gentle tune to you and easing you into a false sense of comfort, planting the idea that it’s always been like this and it always will be. But Soonyoung will take the LSAT in November and you will graduate in the spring and there won’t be any more excuses for seeing him, let alone laying out in the sun with him. Letting yourself enjoy this moment has dangerous consequences for your heart.

And yet you enjoy the warm sun on your skin and hum along with Soonyoung anyway. Seokmin is right: this kind of day won’t last long.

You jump awake at the sound. It takes you a moment to register where you are, to blink the sleep out of your eyes and recognize the stiff library chairs, the yellow tinted lighting of the study rooms on the third floor. Built like a prison cell with no windows and stained linoleum floors, you aren’t entirely sure how you fell asleep. The last thing you remember is working on your essay on Sense and Sensibility, which was rather difficult since you haven’t had the time to finish rereading it. Your book rests on the table next to your open laptop, screen dark.

A second knock reminds you why you woke up in the first place and you turn to the door. Through the glass door you see a student with a backpack hanging off their shoulder, half smiling. They turn the knob, opening the door just enough to stick their head in.

“Hey, sorry, I think I have the room scheduled,” they say.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I lost track of time,” you say, slamming your laptop shut and shoving everything into your backpack. To their credit, the other student doesn’t rush you, even apologizing and telling you to take your time. But if you’ve lost the room, that means the two hours you had booked the study room for–the two hours you designated for writing the essay and doing problem sets–were spent asleep, which means the LSAT cram schedule has been completely thrown off with only three days before the test.

You groan as you step into the elevator, pressing the button for the fifth floor. The farther up, the more intense the quiet levels get. Hopefully it won’t be so quiet that you fall asleep, but since you got a nap, you should be able to power through an all-nighter. It wouldn’t be the first time. You brace yourself to check your phone for the time, though being kicked out of the room means you already know your fate. 9:08 means that you have a little less than three hours until the library closes. You’ve done more with less time.

The first couple desks are occupied by students but you don’t stray, heading for a familiar corner, ignoring the empty desks that line the stacks. Your corner, that you found freshman year during finals season when you couldn’t find an empty desk, is perfect: hidden behind the encyclopedia shelves with a light directly above it, only three dicks carved into it–all on the underside (discovered on a particularly bad day where you found it most comfortable to lay underneath and rethink your entire life). You smile at the small comfort, striding through the stacks with Sense and Sensibility still in your arms.

You nearly drop the book when you see the backpack, abruptly turning despite the fact that it must have been obvious to whoever stole your corner that you were headed there. You feel rage boiling up and threatening to spill. You close your eyes, reminding yourself that the corner isn’t actually yours. Still, as you settle into a desk facing a giant window that reveals the dark campus, you can’t help but feel bitter. Your thoughts stray to the desk that should be yours, even as you pull out your computer.

BATTERY LOW

The words light up your screen, mocking you before the screen falls dark again. You dig in your backpack for your charger that you always slip into the main pocket. You feel your underused pencil pouch, the single journal since you keep most of your notes on your laptop, LSAT prep book, your three folders, and no charger. Even when you look inside and lay the entire contents of your backpack on the desk in front of you, the only charger you find is for your phone. Which means the longer laptop cord is probably sitting on your desk, all the way back at your apartment.

A twenty minute walk back, twenty minutes less for writing your essay. You can start it on your phone, maybe, though the thought of switching between reading the Sparknotes and typing already exhausts you. It’s moot anyways, since all you can do is sit and stare at the desk, covered in the contents of your soul. This is what your life has become: a stack of paper that weighs less than the digital universe on your laptop that’s all contingent on a $15 charger that abandons you when you need it most.

In the end it isn’t the rage that gets to you. It’s the hilarity of it all, how silly it is that your life is dictated by something so stupid.

The fifth floor decrees silence, so you make sure that your sobs don’t make a noise. You can’t control the tears but you can hold your breath. When your head starts to feel light and your lungs are desperate for air, you can breathe through your mouth and inhale as slow as you can to keep the shakiness to a minimum. You can do everything you can to hold it together, even when you’re falling apart.

Someone taps you on the shoulder. You lift your head, ready to face a tired librarian kicking you out but instead you see bleach blonde hair and a forced smile over a furrowed brow.

“What are you doing here?” You whisper, glad for the quiet because you don’t trust your voice to support you.

He holds up a thick, leatherbound book. LSAT for Dummies. “Extra reading couldn’t hurt, right?”

You blink at him. The only times you’ve seen Soonyoung in the library on his own has been with a thick blanket and closed eyes (it’s how you know he sleeps with his mouth open, just a little). You can’t quite believe he’s in front of you and yet he takes a step closer and doesn’t vanish.

“What are you doing here?” He asks.

“Shhh,” you say, holding your finger to your lips to get him to quiet down, even though there’s no one in sight. “Quiet floor.”

He nods, looking around as if he’s waiting for someone to kick him out. He turns to look at your desk, the contents of your backpack still strewn about. He tilts his head but doesn’t dare raise his voice to ask. You know he hasn’t missed the tears, still wet on your cheeks.

You done? He mouths.

Not even close, you think, but you nod anyways because it’s the easier answer. Soonyoung doesn’t hesitate, gently closing your laptop and sweeping everything into your backpack. You watch as he dumps it all into the biggest pocket, zipping it up and slinging it onto his back. He tucks the law book under his arm and holds out his other hand for you to take.

“Come on,” he whispers. And you take it, let him pull you out of your chair. The walk to the elevator; out of the library; toward the edge of campus; nothing feels far when Soonyoung doesn’t let go of your hand. You follow him in a daze, clinging to his hand in the off-chance that all your luck rides on him–like if you let go, you’ll lose your tether to this planet.

Soonyoung rarely walks in silence and today is not an exception. He rambles about the only member of the frat capable of cooking that apparently can’t do anything without creating a giant mess. Even as he complains about the guy, Soonyoung can’t help defending him, explaining in mouth-watering detail how good his food is.

“One time he crowd sourced some steaks and did a grill for the new pledges and they all thought it was a prank or something and nearly cried when he actually let them eat them. I think they burnt their mouths from eating it too fast, afraid someone was going to take it away from them.” Soonyoung stops at the edge of campus. He glances at you, a question in his eyes. Where are we going?

“Soonyoung,” you say. Squeezing his hand feels natural. “I don’t really want to go back right now.”

He nods, squeezing your hand back. “You want to go for a ride?”

“You have a car?”

“Nope.” Soonyoung fishes his phone out of his pocket and makes a call. You can only hear Soonyoung, who says, “I need a ride,” and “Pick me up by the duck statue,” and then he hangs up.

The edge of campus that Soonyoung drags you to is right next to the athletic fields, which explains why there is a giant statue of the mascot that towers over you. It has three of its own personal spotlights and shiny claws from fans rubbing them for good luck, despite there being no official tradition. You only went to one game, mostly to confirm you would rather be anywhere else (except maybe the bathroom of the stadium). Either way, the only thing you do know about the statue and mascot for your school is that it is not a duck.

“That’s a raven.” You point at the statue.

Soonyoung frowns between you and the hunk of metal. “Oh, Larry?”

“It has a name?”

“Well, there’s the official name, which is like, Midnight Rain or something, and the frat name.”

“And the frat name is Larry?”

Soonyoung shrugs. “I didn’t choose it.”

“And you call it a duck, too?”

“It looks like a duck.”

You study the statue. You aren’t an ornithologist, but you’re pretty sure ducks have webbed feet instead of talons, and different beaks. Plus you’ve never seen a pure black duck. But you’ve spent enough time with Soonyoung to know it doesn’t have to make sense when the frat is involved (in fact, you’ve found sense is rarely involved in their decisions).

“We just call it the duck. Or Larry, when we want to be formal.” Soonyoung jumps at the honk of a horn. You turn around with him to find an obnoxiously red convertible parked against the curb. The driver’s smooth black hair is styled to look effortless, hair falling just above his eyes, and he wears sunglasses despite the fact that the sun went down three hours ago. He might be attractive, if he wasn’t trying so hard. You never thought you had a type, but someone like Soonyoung, who wears clothes that he likes and sticks his hair straight up because he thinks it looks funny–that’s more your style.

“Here’s our ride,” Soonyoung says. He starts walking, pulling you with him, still holding your hand. You aren’t sure if he even realizes, but you’re in no hurry to remind him.

“Hey Josh,” he says.

Driver (Josh, apparently), finally pulls off his sunglasses. “Soonyoung, you have a friend.”

“I’m YN,” you say, wishing your voice didn’t sound so scratchy from crying.

“Oh, I know,” he says, a twinkle in his eye that flirts between danger and fun. “I’m Joshua.” You try not to feel unsettled by it. He raises an eyebrow as Soonyoung slides into the backseat and you sit beside him. “Am I just an Uber to you?”

“Seungcheol is out and I knew there was no way you would let me drive your car,” Soonyoung says.

“So, yes?”

Soonyoung shrugs and laughs at Joshua’s expression.

“Where are we headed?” He asks with a resigned sigh as if he’s used to Soonyoung’s antics. Has he done this before? You frown. Why does it matter to you if he’s done this with someone else? You’re so busy with the internal war, you miss Soonyoung’s answer.

“Seriously?” Joshua asks. “It’s a weeknight.”

“Like that’s ever been a problem for you.”

Joshua glances at you. “You’re okay with this?”

You pause. You don’t actually know where Soonyoung said to go. But it’s Soonyoung, your heart says. You're inclined to agree with it tonight. “Yeah.”

He shakes his head and mutters something you don’t catch and kicks the car into gear. Before long, you are flying down a two lane road you didn’t even know existed. The wind starts to pick up with the top of the car down, blasting your face. Though your nose is still stuffed from crying, the air fills your lungs, tasting like dead leaves and unnatural warmth courtesy of climate change. For the first time tonight, you can breathe.

The clock reads just shy of 1 am by the time the car stops. As soon as the rumbling engine cuts out, another noise takes over, drowning everything else out. Crashes too rhythmic to be thunder, the blows softened by tall dunes illuminated by the car’s headlights that Joshua didn’t turn off.

Soonyoung turns to you with a grin. “Ready to have some fun?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, jumping out of the car instead of opening the door, ignoring Joshua’s shout. He sprints toward the crashing waves.

Joshua shakes his head, opening his door and ushering you out from the back. He even closes the door behind you, folding his arms over his chest and walking slowly to the beach with you. The headlights cut out but the moon and stars shine enough to see where the boardwalk ends and the sand begins. Soonyoung’s movement gives him away more than any light, running alongside the water and dancing with the tide.

You clear your throat. The ride cleared your head enough for you to feel properly embarrassed about meeting someone right after sobbing. You shudder to imagine how terrible you looked when he first picked you up, clinging to Soonyoung like he was the only thing keeping you alive. A blush forms just at the thought of it.

“So, you do this often?” You ask.

“Do something truly insane because of Soonyoung? All the time.” Joshua laughs. “We don’t usually end up this far away though, and usually someone’s life is in imminent danger.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” you say, watching Soonyoung strip his socks and shoes off and toss them behind him. One sock gets caught in the wind and blows back toward you and Joshua.

Joshua stops before the two of you can catch up to him. You turn to look at him. It’s difficult to read his expression in the moonlight but he frowns like he’s not sure he should say something. Eventually he says, “I’m going for a walk down the boardwalk.” He glances at Soonyoung, then back at you and smiles. “Have fun with him.”

You watch him turn around and trudge back up the sand, wondering if all of Soonyoung’s friends are this strange. Maybe it’s just being in a frat. You grab Soonyoung’s sock and set it with his shoes, smiling when he turns around and waves like a maniac.

“It’s the ocean!” He shouts over the crashes.

��You’re soaked!” You shout back. He glances down and apparently finally realizes his shirt is wet, clinging to his shoulders already. He strides back toward you, grabbing your arm and pulling you closer.

“My shoes are not coming off!” You warn him.

“Just come closer!” He says. “It’s amazing!” You stand with him at the edge of the water, watching it rise in the darkness and draw closer and closer. It crashes on the sand first, a violent move, kicking up wet sand and mixing it with white water. The frothy white water creeps forward, until you have to dance backward. Soonyoung stays in the water, letting it wash around his feet.

“It feels better like this,” he says.

“My feet are covered in enough sand,” you say, though he does look like he’s having fun. The water must be freezing this time of the year–it would feel so nice running over your skin. But you’d end up with wet socks and even more sand in your shoes to clean out.

Soonyoung holds out his hand. “You’d like this.”

You chew on your lip. Normally you’d laugh in his face and say ‘not a chance.’ But normalcy has never been running three hours away to the beach in the middle of the night when you have class at 9 in the morning. You pull off the sneakers without untying them and pull your socks off, setting them next to Soonyoung’s and joining him at the edge of the water. His hand isn’t out by the time you return but he slips it into yours when you join his side.

Another wave crashes and you watch the water creep forward, faster than you expect it to be–and you’re right, it’s freezing, but Soonyoung’s right too, it sends an icy shock throughout your body that sends a tingly rush up from your toes to every nerve in your body, setting them on fire. You squeeze his hand and laugh.

“Good?” He asks.

“I love it.”

You don’t know how long you stand there, holding onto Soonyoung’s hand and letting the water wash over you. After a few waves, it doesn’t feel cold anymore. You stand until your feet are buried in wet sand, each wave sending you lower and lower.

“My feet are freezing,” Soonyoung eventually says.

“Mine, too.” You lift your feet reluctantly, already missing the coarse sand and cold water. You have to let go of Soonyoung’s hand to put on your socks and shoes, shuddering at all the sand in your socks. The cotton became damp from sitting too close to the water, your shoes faring the same. Yet you don’t regret a second of it.

You stand up and stretch, feeling your spine pop. When you turn back around, you almost scream. You manage to contain it to a gasp, a wheezing Soonyoung’s name. He blinks at you innocently, like he isn’t standing in front of you with his shirt in his hand.

“What are you doing?” You choke out.

“We’re at the beach,” he says. “I have to take pictures.”

“And you need to take off your shirt for that?”

“Why? Does it bother you?” He smirks.

Muscles have never been a selling point for you. The “people” you’ve crushed on have all been smart or kind, crushes of intellect rather than bodies. His toned abs, sculpted shoulders, the way his body curves gently as he allows you to stare at him–normally it wouldn’t get to you at all (other than the embarrassment of being this close to a shirtless man for the first time in a long time). But it’s not just the muscles. It’s Soonyoung, your Soonyoung who calls you at four in the morning to tell you about the movie he just finished and is too endearing for you to truly be annoyed at. It’s the Soonyoung that gets lost in the Engineering building even as a senior. It’s the Soonyoung that drags you to the beach in the middle of the night just to make you smile. Yes, it bothers you. No one should be this incredible and hot.

“No,” you mumble, failing to convince yourself of the lie.

Soonyoung seems to be done teasing you, dropping his shirt into your hands. He walks a little closer to the waves, apparently not bothered by the chilly ocean breeze. He starts to pose, then raises his eyebrows. “Aren’t you going to take pictures?”

“Where’s your phone?”

“The camera’s broken,” he says. “Just use yours and you can send them to me.” He continues to pose, flexing his arms as subtly as he can which isn’t particularly subtle (though the muscles are even more impressive in person). You are tempted to reach out and feel the tension, before you realize you are staring again.

You numb to Soonyoung in this half-dressed state as you take the pictures. The frat must have a professional photographer or something, because Soonyoung knows how to pose. Despite some of the angles and positions seeming awkward, each picture comes out as if from a photoshoot. He only gives you a few instructions on taking pictures, and compliments you way beyond your talents.

“Just like that!” Soonyoung says, breaking his model face to grin at you. “You’re really good at this.”

“You can’t even see the pictures,” you say. You bite your lips so you don’t smile. Apparently that doesn’t matter, because he keeps posing. It’s a good thing you just upgraded your phone storage because you estimate at least a thousand pictures are taken for each pose.

“Are you guys done?” You jump at the voice next to you. Apparently Joshua returned from his walk, sneaking up using the crashing waves as cover. “We should head back soon if you want to make your morning classes.”

“Definitely want to,” you say. You haven’t gotten any work done, but that’s no excuse to skip class. Soonyoung pouts but doesn’t argue.

“Perfect!” Joshua claps his hands together. He shoves you toward Soonyoung and grabs your phone. “One more picture together and we’ll go.”

Being at a distance worked perfectly fine but those muscles have you frozen in place again. Soonyoung throws an arm over your shoulders and grins like you do this all the time. His biceps press through your jacket, the flex of the muscle exactly as you imagined it, not that it stops your heart from thundering.

You can’t help but steal a glance at Soonyoung. Despite feeling like you’ll malfunction at any second, there’s nowhere else you’d rather be. Soonyoung’s features look soft this close, even the sharp cut of his jawline. You want to study every line of his face, each curve, memorize it until the way his lips slowly curl into a smile is carved into your heart. Spending the rest of your life here doesn’t seem too bad.

“Let’s go,” Joshua says, breaking whatever magic froze time for you. You are left with cold toes and sand in your sneakers as you march up the dune and back to Joshua’s car.

“I just cleaned it,” he groans, looking at all the sand you and Soonyoung tracked in.

You mumble an apology but when you try to offer to clean it for him, he shakes his head. “Nobody touches my baby.”

You glance at Soonyoung, who followed you into the backseat again. He rolls his eyes at Joshua, smiling in a way that you know means he isn’t serious. You smile back at him and click your seatbelt into place.

“Address?” Joshua asks, handing you his phone. You punch it in and hand the phone back. 3 hours and sixteen minutes.

Joshua whistles, seeing the arrival time of 4:53. “Remind me never to do this again.”

“The beach was your idea,” Soonyoung says. His words slur a little.

“Just go to sleep already,” Joshua says. The engine rumbles on and he pulls away from the empty boardwalk.

“‘m not even tired,” Soonyoung says, fighting a yawn. He slouches and leans against the headrest, rolling his head to look at you. “You have class in the morning?”

“Not until nine.”

“That’s good.” He doesn’t succeed in fighting the yawn this time. His blinks become longer and longer, eyes closing more than opening. It’s like watching the energizer bunny shut down.

“Soonyoung?”

He opens his eyes and you think maybe he’d wait for the rest of his life for you to say something.

“Thank you.”

“Always.” He smiles lazily. “I swore I’d do anything.”

His sworn loyalty. It should be fun, having a boy like him dedicated to fulfilling your wishes. But what would it be like if he wasn’t sworn to you? If he did these kinds of things just because he wants to?

You didn’t think you were tired but the next thing you know, Soonyoung gently shakes you awake.

“We’re here,” he says in a quiet, very un-Soonyoung voice.

You blink at him, trying to figure out why your neck hurts so much, frowning at the unfamiliar surroundings. From the rear view mirror, Joshua watches you. Right, instead of writing your essay, doing the problem sets, or any of the readings, you went to the beach. You wait for the guilt to set in but it doesn’t come. None of the anxieties from earlier in the evening (the technical part of your brain reminds you it was the night before) overwhelm you.

“Right,” you say, clearing your throat. Your mouth tastes nasty but before you can say anything, Soonyoung hands you a water bottle. You take a sip before saying thank you.

Soonyoung unbuckles his seatbelt. “I’ll walk you up.”

You nod, grateful you don’t have to ask him. The night has been a full adventure on its own yet you aren’t quite ready for it to be over. At least you aren’t ready to say goodbye to Soonyoung.

There’s still something you want to tell him. You want to tell him that you like his blonde hair, even though everyone else thinks it’s ridiculous. You want to tell him that you lied earlier, you nearly lost your mind seeing him shirtless. You want to tell him that you feel proud when he gets the right answer on the first try, that you think his concentration frown is cute, that you’ve never enjoyed studying like you do when he’s by your side. You want to tell him that on your worst days, days like today, just being Soonyoung makes it better.

But you learned a long time ago tired ramblings and drunk confessions are siblings. They both end in heartbreak and twelve packs of ramen.

So you ride the elevator with him and watch the lights flicker. You never cared when Jihoon brought his friends (well, Jun) over, but the carpets that look dirty no matter how many times they’re cleaned and beige walls are even worse tonight. You can stand to live in a boring apartment, but not a dirty one.

“This is me,” you say, gesturing to 808. You turn your back on the door, facing Soonyoung instead. He looks radiant under the fluorescent hallway lights, which really isn’t fair. They make his bleach blonde hair look natural, highlight the blemishes on his skin, easy to see when he’s this close.

You should go inside and he should go back down but neither of you move. For the second time tonight, you are frozen in time with Soonyoung.

The floor creaks and you jump, turning around at the same time, accidentally knocking into Soonyoung’s chest as you turn to face the noise behind you. Jihoon, gym bag over his shoulder, frowns at you across the hallway.

“Are you seriously just getting back now?”

Shit. You never texted him. “Um, Jihoon, this is Soonyoung,” you say. He waves behind you. “Soonyoung, Jihoon.”

Jihoon folds his arms. “I’ve heard about you.” You glare at him, which he ignores. “You’re taking the LSAT on a dare?”

“You’re the one that wants to be a music producer?”

Jihoon raises his eyebrows and looks at you. “You’ve mentioned me?”

“Only the worst,” you say, smiling at him.

“I thought you were at the library all night?” Jihoon says.

“We went on an adventure,” you say. You show him your sandy shoes. He raises his eyebrows but doesn’t say anything. It’s clear he knows he interrupted something, but the stubborn asshole doesn’t move.

You turn back to Soonyoung. “Goodnight,” you say, resisting the urge to hug him.

“It’s morning,” Jihoon says.

“Goodnight,” Soonyoung says, glancing at Jihoon. He pauses and fidgets with the hem of his shirt but finally gives you a half hug that feels more like a bro hug than anything else. He disappears into the elevator then pops his head out a final time “Send me the photos!”

You turn to Jihoon. “I forgot to text you.”

“I figured I’d wait until the morning to call,” he said. “Even if you were kidnapped there’s still a 90% chance you’d figure out a way to show up for class on time.” He turns the key in the lock and strides into the apartment. You’re too tired to argue back, especially when he’s right, so you just follow him into the apartment.

“I like him,” Jihoon says before you vanish into your room.

“Should I find you a wedding dress?” You say. “Soonyoung is single.”

Jihoon rolls his eyes and grabs a protein shake from the fridge. “Why do I even bother?”

You don’t wait for him to leave first, peeling your shoes off in the entryway where you can sweep up the sand and practically fall into your room. It’s race to change into an old t-shirt before you collapse onto your bed.

You set an alarm for 8:30 and check fifty times to make sure it’s actually set. Then you open your camera roll, shaking your head at the countless pictures. You choose twenty non-blurry ones before your eyes start to droop. You scroll to the bottom and click on the pictures Joshua took. Soonyoung grins for the camera, his easy smile as captivating on your phone as it is in person. You are staring at him, a soft smile on your lips and hearts practically bugging out of your eyes. It’s so ridiculously obvious how you feel. You send him his thirst traps and keep that picture for yourself.

It takes a week for you to realize Soonyoung never posted the pictures.

The weight of the world has the decency to wait until you’re home to fall on your shoulders. You hold your keys up and can’t push it into the lock. If you didn’t do well today, it means the past two months have been a complete waste–all the studying, the assignments you got low grades on because you were studying, the nights you spent at your desk–wasted and doomed to repeat.

All but the time you spent with Soonyoung. Even if you fail (again), he should at least score decently, and you can’t consider that a complete waste.

You raise your key to insert it into the lock but the door flies open. Jihoon glares at you, arms folded over his chest. “What the hell is taking you so long, your boyfriend is here.”

You peer past him and find Soonyoung lounging on the couch, feet resting on the coffee table. He sits up when he sees you, grinning and waving. You wonder if he’s been there since you told him you were finished. You make a mental note to get Jihoon his favorite protein shakes.

“How did you know I was here?”

“Me and your boyfriend heard you shaking your keys in front of the door for like twenty minutes,” Jihoon says.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you mutter, praying Soonyoung didn’t hear either of you. You push past Jihoon, letting him lock the door behind you. Soonyoung jumps off the couch as soon as you drop your bag, almost tackling you in a hug. You pretend not to hear Jihoon’s scoff as he locks himself in his room again.

“How’d it go?” He asks, squeezing you one more time before letting go. You try not to feel disappointed about it. “I mean, I know you did amazing, but how do you feel? Was the room super hot or super cold? Did the proctor give you the evil eye when you turned in your paper because they were secretly trying to sabotage you?”

“No?” You frown. “And the room was fine, I felt pretty good about it, but I felt good last time, so I don’t really know, I just really don’t want to take it again.” You sigh. “I know you want to know as many details as possible for your test, but I really, really don’t want to think about it right now.”

Soonyoung grins and pulls out a package of White Claws and a bottle of vodka from a plastic bag that you just noticed sitting on your coffee table. “That’s perfect because I brought a gift from the whole frat.”

“That seems pretty on brand,” you say.

“And a gift from me.” He digs again and pulls out a DVD. Pride and Prejudice and Zombies.

“You’re kidding.” You say. “I think I have to be drunk to watch that.”

“You don’t have faith in my taste in movies?” Soonyoung asks but he pops open the first drink and slips something shaped concerningly like a knife out of his pocket and stabs the can, chugging it before it can really spill on your carpet. Before you can register what he did, he tosses the empty can on the coffee table, immediately scrambling to straighten it. “Sorry, force of habit.”

“Soonyoung, I don’t think I can keep up with you,” you say, sitting slowly onto the couch.

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m a lightweight,” he says. “I definitely should not have chugged that.”

“I guess I better catch up,” you say, unscrewing the vodka and pouring a shot in the little paper cups that Soonyoung brought. The acrid scent curls your lip but you knock it back as fast as you can, forcing it down when you miss the back of your throat and it burns your tongue. Soonyoung hands you a can, the lime flavored seltzer pushing the nasty flavor out of your mouth.

“Yeah, I’m terrible at that,” you say.

Soonyoung shrugs. “I’m not one to judge. You should have seen me as a pledge.”

You grin at the mental image of Soonyoung wearing a fake toga made of bedsheets. “I bet you were adorable.” You take another sip of the drink (which tastes significantly worse when you aren’t comparing it to straight vodka) and miss Soonyoung scrambling for words.

“I can’t drink this,” you declare, setting the can down. You cross the room to the fridge, opening it and studying the contents. Soonyoung follows you, resting his chin on the door and glancing inside.

“Jihoon does most of the cooking,” you say, feeling self-conscious. Not much populates your fridge, a package of chicken breast and a carton of eggs. A couple containers of take out that are either two days or two weeks old sit in front, and the drawer of fruit that is filled with apples from Jihoon’s mother definitely smells funny.

“I live in a frat house, this is heaven.”

You flash him a smile and grab the orange juice, shaking it as you grab a glass from the cabinet (thank god Jihoon did the dishes last night). Soonyoung follows you back to the couch and waits for you to pour a glass and add two shots of vodka. You raise the glass and he takes your rejected White Claw and clinks it.

“Cheers,” he says, sipping this one instead of chugging it. He sets it down and leans against the armrest so that he can face you. “How did you meet Jihoon, by the way? He seems like a pretty reserved dude.”

“Yeah, sorry if he was short with you, he isn’t half as mean as he pretends to be,” you say.

“We actually talked a lot.” He pauses, tilting his head as he thinks about it. “Well, a lot about working out. I think I could turn him into my gym buddy with enough pressure.”

“I would pay to see that,” you say. Jihoon tried to bring you to the gym exactly once, and you have regretted it ever since. The soreness haunts you, but you think Soonyoung might be one of the few people on the planet that could keep up with him with those arms.

“I didn’t know you were into that,” Soonyoung says with a giggle. You roll your eyes.

“You know for a fact that’s not what I meant,” you say, “and to answer your question, we lived in the same dorm freshman year. He was next door, and both our roommates were psychotic, so we ended up trading. We’ve been living together ever since because I’m the only one that can put up with his annoying ass. Also he cooks and keeps me alive during finals.”

“I can’t believe I was a dorm assignment away from living with you.” Soonyoung shakes his head and pretends to sigh. “Fate isn’t on my side.”

“Don’t you live in a frat house?”

“Semantics,” Soonyoung says. He pauses. “Semen-tics.” He starts to laugh and though the joke is far from funny, you find yourself giggling too.

“You’re drunk,” you say.

Soonyoung points at you. “I’m pretty sure you’re drunk too.”

You tilt your head from side to side, trying to think at first but the motion feels nice, toeing the line between dizzying and comfortable. Right, you were checking if you were drunk. You have your answer, but you don’t want to stop spinning just yet.

“Do you really want to be a lawyer?” Soonyoung asks. You freeze with your head on your right shoulder, frowning at him. “I mean, like, how do you know?”

“It makes good money,” you say. “Well, corporate law does. Everything going according to plan, I’ll be out of debt before I’m thirty, retiring at 65.”

“But how do you know that’s what you want?” Soonyoung asks. You wonder if he’s asking you or himself. You think about the first day you met him.

It was the first day of your sophomore year, 8 in the morning in the worst classroom in the Armhayer Building at the end of a dead end hallway with no windows. The business program had a required career building course and some cruel administrator decided to make the other available class clash with the other required business class for the year, so half the class was people you were stuck with for the full year. Despite its reputation, the business school at the university seemed to only accept idiots.

You settled for a long semester of biting back your eye rolls and yawning through class, choosing a seat in the front so that at least you won’t have to look at anyone else. And for fifteen minutes, you struggled to keep your eyes open.

Then Soonyoung walked in.

He was out of breath, telling the professor that he got lost several times and someone gave him the wrong directions. You didn’t really pay attention to him until he dropped into the seat next to you. Fully prepared to give him a side eye and judge him for the rest of the semester, Soonyoung flashed a smile at you and apologized for disrupting you. He was so obviously not your type, yet when his head dropped on your shoulder, you didn’t wake him up. Two classes later when the professor told the class that you would be in a semester-long partner project, you didn’t hesitate to say yes when Soonyoung asked you.

Soonyoung hadn’t ever taken the class seriously, going through the motions and doing the bare minimum for most of the assignments. You never paid any attention to it, but you realize that he never actually told you what he planned to do with his life, always asking you what you planned to do with your copious amounts of money. Now you wonder if it was because he really doesn’t know.

“I want stability,” you finally say. “This plan is stable. Safe, as long as everything goes according to plan. I guess it’s not as cool as dreaming about being an astronaut or whatever, but it’s what I want.”

“I think it’s cool. Knowing what you want to do.” Soonyoung says with little enthusiasm.

“You don’t have any idea?”

He shrugs. “I have to be smart to do the things I want to do.”

“You are smart.”

“You don’t have to pander to me, I’m not looking for your pity.”

“Soonyoung.” You wait for him to look you in the eyes. “You are smart. This isn’t pity. Sure it takes you a little longer to read things, and you have to work a little harder to answer some questions, but that doesn’t mean you’re not smart. You’re just as capable as me, more capable when it comes to emotional intelligence. Have you ever noticed that wherever you go, someone is always waving to you? I don’t think there’s a single person in this world that doesn’t like you. Don’t downplay how important that is.”

He chews on his lip and you know he doesn’t believe you. How many people have told him he’s dumb? You want to drag every single one of them here and make them apologize, make them realize how special the boy in front of you is. Eventually he shrugs. “I’ll just end up being an intern, and then I’ll be so charming they’ll promote me without realizing I don’t know what I’m doing and I’ll become a CEO that pays people to do the job for me.”

You smile and shake your head. “We can vacation together in the Bahamas.”

“Please, that’s where the semi-rich people go,” Soonyoung says, lifting his head from the back of the couch. “We’ll have our own islands and sail past each other.” This time when he smiles, the sparkle glints, just a little. His bleach blonde hair sticks in strange angles from rubbing against the couch, looking a little like a fuzzball. You reach a hand out and pat it down, except the hair is fried from being bleached so many times and almost breaks under your hand.

When you pull your hand down, Soonyoung is staring at you. Except staring isn’t the right word. He looks at you like no one else ever has, a thousand unsaid words behind his eyes, a language like no other that maybe only you can understand. Those dark eyes, so soft and warm, begging you to drown in them. He’s a siren, luring you in with a song of desire that only you can hear.

You don’t realize you’ve leaning closer until you fall forward, catching yourself on his chest. Soonyoung’s hand flies to your waist, moving so fast it must have been reflex.

“Sorry,” you mutter but you don’t get off him. Resisting his eyes from this close is impossible. Soonyoung blinks at you, frozen. It occurs to you that you’re almost kissing him. All you have to do is lean forward, press your lips against his. Would his lips be chapped? Would he kiss you back? Would he make fun of you for being a terrible kisser? You hold your breath, wondering if you are about to find out.

You jump at the bang of a door slamming shut. You push off Soonyoung’s chest, back to your side of the couch until your back slams against the armrest. The pain is almost enough to sober you up and you realize exactly what you were about to do. You can’t bear to look at Soonyoung staring at you so you look at Jihoon instead, who doesn’t seem to realize that he interrupted anything by walking into the kitchen, headphones blasting music so loud that you can hear it. He grabs one of the takeout containers from the fridge and finally notices you and Soonyoung staring at him.

“What?” He shouts over his headphones. You shake your head and he stares at you all the way back to his room, slamming the door shut behind him with enough force to make you jump again.

“We should probably start the movie,” you say, turning to face forward, anywhere but Soonyoung. “I’ll get my laptop.” He doesn’t say anything but you can feel Soonyoung’s eyes on you as you jump up. Ignoring the spinning in your head, you walk to your room. You lean against the door as soon as it shuts behind you, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath.

You wish you could blame the idiocy on the alcohol, but you aren’t drunk enough for that. Besides, regardless of the reason, it was a mistake, it would be a mistake, to kiss Soonyoung. No matter how badly you want to do it.

Your computer sits on your desk. The longer it takes for you to get back, the stranger it will be, so you grab it and return to the couch. Dizziness gives you an excuse to peer at the floor, perfectly valid reason to avoid Soonyoung’s eyes.

“Are you ready to have your mind blown?” He asks when you insert the DVD into your laptop.

You raise your eyebrows but still don’t have the courage to face him. “It’s that good?”

Soonyoung laughs easily, as if nothing happened. “You have no idea what you’re in for.”

You peek at him from the corner of your eye. He faces the computer, sitting back against the couch. Other than his red tinted cheeks, you can’t tell he’s drunk at all. You have no idea what you’re in for, he said. He has no idea how right he is.

You hold Soonyoung by the shoulders, staring him down. Your eyes begin to water but you hold them open, determined not to lose. Soonyoung squints, tears forming in the corner of his eyes. You just have to hold out a little longer, but your eyes begin to ache and the air pierces into them.

“Damn!” Soonyoung cries, throwing himself back onto the couch and squeezing his eyes shut. You let go of his shoulders and resist the urge to rub your eyes, settling for blinking as fast as humanly possible. Your eyes burn but you smile anyways, wiping tears away with the back of your hand.

“How are you so good at that?” Soonyoung asks. He gives into the impulse, hands pressed against his eyes.

“I’m really not, I think you’re just bad at staring contests,” you say. “Now hurry up, you lost so you have to answer.”

He sighs as if he didn’t beg you to help him study. With only a day before his test, you’re not sure how much this is really helping, but at least he isn’t partying with the rest of his frat (who do a pre-finals bar crawl, apparently). Instead, Soonyoung is on your couch, again. You try not to think about the last time he was here. Not productive thoughts, especially not when Soonyoung is one day away from taking the most important test of his life.

“Is it B?”

“Are you asking or telling?”

“I hate when you say that.” He peers at the paper, eyes moving slowly as he rereads the line. “No, it’s C! Wait, no, B. No, A!”

“Pick an answer.”

He chews on his lip. You have to force yourself to keep your focus on his eyes. “B,” he finally says.

You’re tempted to drag it out and make him wait but he puts on the Soonyoung Sparkle so you go ahead and nod.

“I knew it! Trust your gut!”

“You’re quoting me now.” You pretend to wipe tears from the corner of your eyes. “You’ve grown up so quickly.”

If it were Jihoon, he’d roll his eyes but Soonyoung perks up, as if you’ve given him a real compliment. He pauses before asking his next question, eyes flickering to the papers separating you from him.

“You really think I’ll do well?” He asks softly.

You study him, the way his unnaturally blonde hair has been strategically gelled to stick up in all the right places, the way his plain white t-shirt hangs loose on his shoulders. You wonder what he sees when he looks in the mirror because the way he sits now, waiting for an answer as if you’d actually say no, breaks your heart a little. He really has no idea how brilliant he is, in every sense of the word. You don’t know how to make him see it so you just take his hand and wait for him to look you in the eyes.

The second the glittering dark irises meet yours, you see the desperation. He tries to smile, to hide the fear but Soonyoung has always been easy to read. You fight the urge to brush your fingers against his cheek.

“Soonyoung.” You squeeze his hand. What you feel isn’t a passing crush, you’ve known that for a while now. Admitting it doesn’t give you the bravery to do anything except pull the shield of cowardice around your heart a little tighter. “I’d be an idiot if I said I didn’t.”

He holds your gaze a little longer, until it almost looks like he believes you. Then his eyes light up. “I have a surprise for you!”

He digs into his backpack, pulling out a blanket (not the one he used when it was still warm enough to sit outside in the grass), a plastic water bottle half-full of bright green liquid, three crumpled flyers for events on campus, and finally, a small rectangular item, carefully wrapped in paper towels.

“I was a little worried it would get damaged in my backpack,” he says. “I really, really tried to walk gently and didn’t bring it near any coffee.”

You choose not to point out the unnatural liquid in the plastic water bottle, instead appreciating his efforts to protect whatever your surprise is. Besides, it’s not like he didn’t try. He carefully pulls the paper towels off, revealing a navy blue leather bound book with gilded lettering. Not just any book.

“You got it back?” You cry. Soonyoung pulls the rest of the paper towels off to reveal the intricate design on the cover, the golden pages, with Pride and Prejudice inscribed on the spine. “My baby!”

You hover over the book, not wanting to ruin it with the dirt and oils from your hands but so desperately wanting to caress the beautiful book. It’s just as you remember it, down to the tiny dent on the front cover where you accidentally knocked it against a railing. You can’t wait to put it back on your bookshelf where there has been an empty space ever since Jun managed to snag it. You remember Soonyoung is there when you hear his laughter.

“You like it that much?”

“Of course,” you say. “It’s my baby.”

“It’s a book.” But he smiles and you know he’s just teasing. So you figure, why not?

You throw your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug. His frat-bro instincts must take charge because he doesn’t hesitate to hug you back, pulling you against his chest and squeezing you like he’s the one getting a gift.

“Thank you,” you say. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“This is my thank you,” he says. You can feel his voice rumbling in his chest, a strange sensation that sends butterflies tumbling around between your stomach and your heart. “It’s the least I could do for you.

The awkward position isn’t exactly comfortable, twisting your body to face him with your shoulder overtop of his forcing your face into his neck but you don’t want to let go. You give yourself five more thundering heartbeats before you let go, turning to study your book again so you have an excuse to avoid his eyes.

“How did you get it back?”

“Same way you lost it,” Soonyoung says. “I made a bet.”

“On what?”

Soonyoung shrugs, turning to look at the book that still sits in his lip. He gently places it into yours, using the paper towels to prevent smudging with his fingers.

You frown. “How? Jun is in another hemisphere.”

“Don’t underestimate the power of video calls and express shipping,” Soonyoung says. “By the way, I’m wearing your friends down. Pretty soon they’ll like me more than they like you.

“Oh really?” You raise your eyebrow. You ignore the vole gnawing at your gut whispering that he might just be right.

“I got Jihoon to go to the gym with me and I got him to admit I was friends with you before he was,” he says, holding a finger out. “Jun says that he wants to meet me the second he returns to the country.” A second finger goes up. “Who else can I add to the list?”

He’s only joking. He doesn’t mean it the way it sounds, but your skin wants to crawl inside out. The truth is, they are pretty much your only friends. Jihoon, Jun, and Soonyoung, the latter two having wormed their way into your life. My only friends.

“You’ve got to start going on the offensive,” Soonyoung says. He avoids your eyes and you know he didn’t miss your discomfort. Great, now he pities you. “I’m serious, Seokmin and Joshua have been asking about you, and Seungcheol keeps complaining that he hasn’t met you yet.”

You snort. “They’re frat bros, they just want more people to party with.”

“I’m a frat bro,” he says.

“Yeah, but…” But what? He’s Soonyoung? Once again, you wonder why he is so different to you–why the epitome of frat boy chaos doesn’t repulse you like he should. But he isn’t some one-dimensional steroid-infused party boy, not the type to bully the freshman trying to join just because he can. He gets drunk after two shots and makes his pledges follow him for 24 hours a day as “hazing,” only to take them for a dinner he can’t afford and skips his own classes so they don’t miss theirs.

He’s not a typical frat boy. But Soonyoung loves his frat, and you can’t find a way to tell him this without making it sound like you are looking down on the rest of the members.

So you just say, “Isn’t this supposed to be a study session?”

Soonyoung sighs, pulling the book in front of him and staring at the words. Even though you can see that he isn’t reading, he doesn’t say anything else.

“Your test is tomorrow,” you say.

“Yeah, I know.” He doesn’t pick up the pencil.

You’ve never struggled to read Soonyoung. He can’t hide when he’s upset, shoulders slumping, a little pout forming over his lips. He doesn’t fully frown but his eyebrows comes together, just a bit. And it’s usually easy to figure out what’s wrong–he’s tired, or wants to be at a party instead of studying. But now? He was fine just a moment ago, even while he was cramming earlier.

“Is something wrong?” You don’t know why you’re so scared of the answer.

“I just thought that… nNever mind.” He sighs again. “You’re right, this is a study session. I should be studying.” He doesn’t look at you and you can’t help but feel like you messed up. But Soonyoung eventually picks up his pencil and asks you to check his answers and the feeling slowly fades.

Will the rest of your feelings fade when you aren’t with him like this anymore? When he takes his test and has no reason to see you every day? Will your heart still beat at the mention of his name? Will you spend the rest of your life thinking about all the almosts with him? Or will it fade until Soonyoung is just a boy that you helped because of a silly bet?

Even as you consider it, you know the answer. He isn’t just a boy, and he never will be. Maybe that’s what really scares you.

You glare at Soonyoung. “Do you know what time it is?”

Jihoon glances at his watch. “7:43.”

Soonyoung grins beside him, arm over his shoulder. Both boys stand in your bedroom doorway looking far too composed for this ungodly hour.

“It’s a Saturday.” Just two minutes ago you were in blissful sleep. Okay, maybe not blissful, since you stayed up until three in the morning because you couldn’t fall asleep, and you were having a weird dream where you were looking for something and ended up by the stadium staring at a giant duck statue instead of the raven. But the point is you were asleep until two fists banged on your door so loud you thought it was going to fall apart.

You can’t even be that mad at Soonyoung, not when he smiles like that. So you glare at Jihoon.

“Honestly, I figured you would be up,” he says. “You were the one that said you didn’t think you were going to get any sleep.”

“I’m sorry,” Soonyoung says. “I really just wanted to help distract you for the last hour.” Right. The last hour until your entire future would be determined by a triple digit number. No biggie.

“Let me get dressed,” you say. They step back before you have the chance to slam the door in their face. You’d like to be able to dress up nicely, but you’re already shivering, so you grab your comfiest sweatpants and the sweatshirt Soonyoung lent you (that still smells like his cologne). You dart into the bathroom and meet the two boys in the doorway of the apartment, pulling on your sneakers.

You pull the hood over your messy hair and tighten the strings. Soonyoung grins at you and taps your nose.

“Ready to go?”

“How did you get out of bed this early?”

“Oh, I never got in,” he says. “Long story, but we gotta go, they won’t wait much longer.”

“They?” You ask but Soonyoung doesn’t hear you. He turns to Jihoon, waving.

“See you tomorrow!” He says, throwing an arm over your shoulders to pull you out the door. “I’ll let you know how it goes!”

Jihoon rolls his eyes. “Whatever.” But he looks at you and smiles. “It’ll be fine.” Before you can thank him, he shuts the door.

Soonyoung doesn’t let go of your side, pulling you to the elevators and squeezing you against him. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I should be asleep.”

Soonyoung smiles, as if your grumpiness is funny. You decide it’s moot since there’s no way you could fall asleep now that you are an hour and seven minutes away from finding out the results of your future.

“I figured I’d save you from wallowing in worry,” Soonyoung says. “We can do fun things while we wait. I planned out the whole morning, we have options! There’s going to the gym, or for a job around campus, breaking into the science lab and petting the rabbits, going to Barb’s for breakfast–”

“Breakfast,” you say. You aren’t a huge fan of getting in trouble with the college when you have just over a semester before graduation and though you aren’t sure if your stomach will accept food, working out is a guarantee for throwing up. Besides, a hot cup of coffee could clear a little of the fog in your brain.

“Barb’s it is,” Soonyoung says, practically bouncing on his toes. He really seems to only have two settings, and today he’s at 120%.

He lets go of your side when the elevator opens and you step to the ground floor of your apartment. You rub your arms and pretend like the chill is from the weather even though the lobby is still warm. He holds the door for you pretending to be a doorman, bowing and gesturing with his arm for you to pass. You turn so that he doesn’t see that the silly gesture made you smile.

Parked outside is a white jeep that looks larger than normal, and is apparently the asshole that’s been blasting their music for the past ten minutes. You aren’t surprised in the slightest when Soonyoung strides up to the car.

“I don’t have a car,” he says, belatedly apologetic. The two men in the front seat don’t seem to mind, though you suspect they have been up all night along with Soonyoung as soon as the door opens and you hear their voices singing off-tune over the blasting music.

“Boy, you got my heartbeat runnin' away,” The driver cries, using a water bottle as a mic. You recognize Seungcheol from Soonyoung’s descriptions, half from his voice and half from the back of his head. The person riding shotgun is also familiar, a mess of dark hair that must be Joshua. He doesn’t look much different in daylight, sunglasses resting on his forehead. Thankfully they turn the music down a little and stop singing when you get it.

Seungcheol grins at you through the mirror. “So I finally get to meet the infamous YN. You know, you still haven’t shown up to any parties.”

“I’ve been busy,” you say, glancing at Soonyoung who focuses a little too much on his seatbelt.

“Hi, YN,” the passenger up front says, waving at you through the rearview mirror.

“Joshua,” you say. “Get into life and death scenarios with Soonyoung recently?”

“Well, Soonyoung jumped out of a car window.” He pauses. “It wasn’t moving,” he adds when Seungcheol jerks his head towards him. “Though I wouldn’t put it past him.”

“I have done it before,” Soonyoung says solemnly. It takes him a moment to realize everyone is staring at him. “It was a dare.”

“Why am I not surprised,” Seungcheol grumbles, turning back around and putting the car into drive. Though you were thinking something along the same lines, the way Soonyoung deflates a little makes you wish Seungcheol hadn’t said anything.

The rest of the drive is quiet–at least in terms of conversation. Seungcheol cranks his stereo up to the loudest setting and blasts the Spice Girls until Joshua starts singing along. Apparently car karaoke for “Wannabe” is sacrilegious to the frat leader.

You can hear yourself think again when the car pulls into the parking lot and he finally cuts the engine. A few cars line the parking lot of the 24 hour diner that sits on the outskirts of campus. The giant neon red Barb’s that hangs over the entrance flickers in the cloudy morning light teeters the line between quaint and electrical fire waiting to happen.

The workers, a host and three waitresses, wave at the boys, and do a double take at you. You swear you hear the host whisper “Is that really them?” to Joshua as he leads the group to a table in the corner but Soonyoung distracts you with the menu.

“I had this thing memorized since freshman year, I can’t believe you’ve never been here. The pancakes are my favorite for hangover cures, not that I’m hungover by the way, I’m actually running on my third energy drink.” He taps the picture, a golden stack of perfectly fluffy pancakes that can only be photoshop.

“Aren’t energy drinks bad for your heart?”

Soonyoung shrugs. “Joshua invented this to get through finals, you mix Red Bull, Bang, and Coke and it keeps you up for three days straight. Great for when you’re nervous because you physically have to do something about it.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” you say. “Wait, why are you nervous?”

“Your test results come out today,” he says too quickly.

You consider debating with him but a waitress approaches, wearing a fifties frock and a high ponytail with a ribbon that probably looked like a bow at the start of her shift but has drooped down and now just looks sad. Her face is a mask of emotions, not a smile, not a frown, just emptiness, a contrast to the button clipped to her collar making her “Happy.”

“The usual?” She asks, pausing at you. She tilts her head and you can see the mask twisting at the edges, a frown almost forming on her brow. She glances at Soonyoung. “Is this who I think it is?”

“Who do you think it is?” Soonyoung asks at the same time that Joshua and Seungcheol say, “Yes.”

The corner of Happy’s lips turn into a tiny smile that seems to be her equivalent of a grin. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Okay, haha, very funny,” Soonyoung says. “Stop harassing my friend. We’ll order when we have a chance to look at the menu.”

Happy raises her eyebrow just slightly at the word “friend,” but closes her notepad. She returns to a pastel pink bar where you can clearly see her whispering and gesturing to you.

“Why do so many people know me?” You mutter, shrinking into the corner of the booth.

“The thing about Drunk Soonyoung is that he doesn’t really shut up,” Seungcheol says.

“That’s being gentle,” Joshua says. “One time he spent four hours describing Finding Nemo. That’s longer than the actual movie.”

“It’s a good movie,” Soonyoung says.

“The point is,” Seungcheol says, glaring at Joshua, “he tends to talk when he’s drunk. Usually about good things, things that he… Well, things that he likes.”

You turn your head to look at Soonyoung, who is once again pretending to study the menu. “You like studying for the LSAT that much?”

Joshua unsuccessfully tries to hide his laugh with a snort while Seungcheol gains slightly more success with a fake cough. Soonyoung doesn’t react at all, staring at the painted flowers on the menu. Eventually, he shrugs. “I’m dedicated to the bet.” He points at a stack of pancakes covered in bananas and chocolate. “That’s what I usually get.”

“Isn’t against all rules of gym core and muscle building to eat decadent things?”

“Did you just call working out ‘gym core?’” Seungcheol asks.

“Am I wrong?”

“Nope!” Soonyoung says brightly. “And cheat days are a thing, so do you want to split it or not?”

“You know I can’t say no to bananas and chocolate.”

“And pancakes!” He waves down the waitress and points to the stack.

“Ah, the new Soonyoung,” she says. “You guys getting your actual usual?”

Joshua and Seungcheol nod and she doesn’t bother to write any of it down. Then again she already knows their orders. Except she called Soonyoung’s “new.” Before you can ask what she meant, a shout makes you jump. You turn around to see a stream of boys entering, enough of whom you recognize that you realize at least half the frat has rolled into the diner. The waitresses roll their eyes and groan but somehow they don’t look all that upset.

“Mr. President!” The tallest boy, Johnny according to Soonyoung’s Instagram tags, holds a fist over his heart and pounds it a couple times. Seungcheol nods and greets each of the boys, most of whom seem to still be in various stages of inebriation. Almost all of them glance at you and whisper to each other, and you get the feeling they know exactly who you are.

Just what has Soonyoung said about you?

“How are we doing on time?” One of them calls out.

“46 minutes,” Joshua says. You frown. 46 minutes… until 9? Do they all know about today?

You tap Soonyoung on the arm. “What’s going on?”

“You see, the thing is,” he says, “apparently I was nervous?” He tries to fake a laugh but it sounds strained. “I don’t really know but the guys made me tell them about today and then I didn’t really know what was happening but I guess they followed us here? Thought you might like moral support, or something.”

You peek out at the booths crowded with frat bros and cringe back into your seat when they grin at you. “They’re all looking at me.”

“Well, I guess I do talk about you a lot,” he says, only loud enough for you to hear. He won’t meet your eyes.

Ask him why. You want to be brave. You want to be right about the answer you think he’ll give you. You chew the inside of your cheek.

“Because of the bet?”

Soonyoung doesn’t answer for a moment. “I guess.”

Coward.

“Why are we whispering?” Joshua asks, leaning across Soonyoung towards you. “Are we gossiping?”

Soonyoung pushes him off. “Butt out.”

“Just telling Soonyoung that I’ve never had an army of drunk guys rooting for me before,” you say.

“Could have had it sooner if you came to a party,” Seungcheol says.

“You really want me at a party that bad? We just met.”

Seungcheol glances at Soonyoung, who shakes his head. He sighs. “If only I could tell you why you need to come.”

You frown between the three men. “I don’t like when people talk in circles over me.”

“Just promise you’ll come to the Christmas party. It’ll all make sense then,” Seungcheol says. You’ve heard a lot about Seungcheol from Soonyoung, and the more you listen to him, the more you believe it. He’s a strange man.

“I’ll think about making an appearance.”

“Really?” Soonyoung whips around to face you and you know that you have to come now. You haven’t seen him this excited since you let him skip studying to party. No, he’s even more excited now. “You’ll come?”

You can’t stand his gaze so you study the placemats. “Maybe.”

He grabs your hand until you meet his eyes. “Please?”

The Soonyoung Sparkle. You never win against it. “Fine.”

“Get a room,” Joshua says behind a very fake cough. You pull your hand back into your lap and pretend like you aren’t embarrassed.

“How long now?” You shout out.

“40 minutes,” someone answers. You groan and lean back into the sofa. Studying was hard enough but waiting makes you want to pull out each individual hair on your head. You stare at the ceiling, trying to decide if the stain looks more like a horse or a flower.

“Look at this.” Soonyoung passes his phone in front of you, forcing you to look down. His Instagram is open to a picture of a kitten looking drunk, face covered in milk. Such and obvious attempt to distract you but you smile anyway.

“Sweet,” you say and even you aren’t sure if you mean the cat or Soonyoung. He shows you cat pictures until the food finally arrives (33 minutes to go). You have to wait another five minutes because Soonyoung insists on having a photoshoot, despite your protests that you look like you just woke up (he raises his eyebrows at that). You stop fighting when Joshua makes him cut a piece of the pancake and feed it to you. Chocolate nearly drops in your lap but Soonyoung shoots his hand out at the last second and catches it.

“Okay, can we please just eat,” you say. Joshua and Seungcheol shrug and pretend like they weren’t instigating the pictures and telling you and Soonyoung how to pose.

Soonyoung was right about the bananas and chocolate. Rich and decadent, they’re delicious. When he cuts you a slice and pushes it toward you, you can even forget the countdown to the end of the world. Or, more accurately, the end of the world doesn’t mean anything to you when Soonyoung smiles at you like that.

You eat slowly enough to bring you to the ten minute mark. Fear mixes with the dessert for breakfast in your stomach, twisting it until it threatens to jump out of your throat. Soonyoung takes your hand under the table and holds it. You don’t run away this time.

He holds you to the planet again, keeps you from floating away and disappearing before you can reach the stars. It’s Soonyoung that keeps your heart beating. Always Soonyoung.

Seungcheol and Joshua chat, Soonyoung piping in a few times, but their words don’t reach you. Stuck somewhere between crushed beneath the weight of the world and floating away, you focus on the clock, watching the seconds tick closer and closer.

“Last minute!” Someone behind you finally shouts. Soonyoung squeezes your hand. You pull up the website on your phone and put in your login information and hover over the SUBMIT. At thirty seconds, they start shouting it out.

“Ten!”

“Nine!”

“Eight!”

“Seven!”

“Six!”

“Five!”

“Four!”

“Three!”

“Two!”

“One!”

Half the guys start cheering already, probably forgetting the count down doesn’t mean as much as the results themselves. You hit SUBMIT and watch the little wheel spin around and around and around until it finally refreshes. The number stares back at you, impossible to read right in front of you.

169.

“Congratulations!” Soonyoung shouts, throwing his arms around you and squeezing while you try to comprehend what that means. 169. The number should be all you can think about but Soonyoung holds you, shouting how proud he is, how he always believed in you.

“169!” Seungcheol shouts, miles away from your bubble. You can hear the guys break out into cheers, hear them chanting the number (which turns into 69) but it’s just you and Soonyoung. The world didn’t end and Soonyoung is still by your side.

The rest of the morning is a blur. Every member of the frat insists on congratulating you, which mostly means a lot of hugs, though one of the more drunk guys tried to spin you around on his shoulder. You laugh when you’d usually frown and find your way back to Soonyoung’s side like a magnet.

Maybe it’s the euphoria that gives you courage.

“Hey Soonyoung?”

“Hm?”

You say it before you can think too much. “Maybe just the two of us next time?”

He grins before you can finish speaking. “I’d love that.”

You have the courtesy to let Soonyoung sleep in as much as he wants. You wait for him at Barb’s, trying to figure out how to call this a date.

You’ve seen him a couple times since you got your score back, but you needed to study for finals and he had to make up for missing a lot of frat activities. You’ve only seen him in passing, nothing to fill the Soonyoung shaped hole in your heart. But today that will change. You will celebrate together and you will tell him how you feel. And then… you have no idea.

It’s just Soonyoung there’s nothing to be nervous about. Too bad your body doesn’t agree with you. Every nerve stands at attention, jumping at the bell that rings when the door opens. You don’t worry when Soonyoung doesn’t get to Barb’s by 8:30 like he said he would. Even at 8:45, you aren’t worried.

It’s only at 8:55 that you really start to wonder where he is. Maybe you should have picked him up. Knowing him, there’s a 50% chance he’s lying in a ditch after a failed attempt to recreate an impossible stunt from Fast and Furious. At 9, you call him. Between each silence in the ring, you wait for his voice but it never comes. He uses the automated voicemail, so you don’t even get his voice telling you to leave a message.

The anxiety turns to fear while you wait. The door rings and you see a fluff of bleach blonde hair and jump up. But though you recognize the face, it isn’t Soonyoung.

Chan, one of the younger members of the frat, with Mingyu and a guy whose name you forgot. They all have the same look in their eyes when they see you, far too much like pity.

“You’re YN, right?” Mingyu asks. “You’re supposed to meet Soonyoung?” The two guys with him, easily identifiable as frat members between their unkempt hair and sweatshirts plastered with Greek letters, stop mid conversation and glance at each other.

“Is he okay?” You ask, still standing in the awkward position in the booth.

“He’s got his score back,” Mingyu says.

“We were supposed to–”

“Yeah, I know,” Mingyu says. “It was a 167. You should really talk to him yourself.” He pauses, glancing at his frat brothers but they shrug. “He’s at the house. See if you can talk some sense into him.”

You’re too afraid to ask any other questions so you just watch Mingyu and the other two walk past, and pretend that they aren’t whispering and stealing glances at you.

Going to a frat house was never on your bucket list but your feet travel without guidance. You find yourself in front of a rather nondescript house. No bodies hang out from windows, no one is passed out in the yard. Then again it’s a weekday.

You pause at the door, wondering if you should knock. You tap your hand on the door and it slides open, the latch bolt pushed completely in. You step inside tentatively, peeking around but it’s quiet. You turn the corner to find an open room and Soonyoung sitting on a couch, glass with a bright liquid in his hand. He doesn’t even look at you.

“Are you seriously drunk right now?”

Soonyoung just shrugs, taking another sip from the glass. Even from here you can smell that it’s more tequila than fruit punch.

You shake your head, crossing the room sitting beside him even though he didn’t invite you to sit down. He was considerably cuter the last time you saw him drunk. You’ve gotten used to the power of Soonyoung’s facial expressions, his smiles, his frowns, the way his eyes glaze over when he’s bored, the way they gleam when he daydreams; they’re as precious to you as Soonyoung himself. But his face is a clean slate now, not a smile, not a frown, just a blank stare.

“You know a 167 is still insanely good, right?”

He shakes his head.

“Soonyoung.” He doesn’t look at you, so you grab his drink. Any other day and you would have failed miserably but his alcohol-impaired senses make him slow enough for you to get a hand on the half-empty glass. He glares at you but you don’t yield, tightening your grip and pulling the bottle even harder.

“Let go,” you growl. “Talk to me like a normal human.”

He shakes his head, pulling on the glass so you yank back, except you overestimate how weak he is like this, and the glass flies out of his hand, the contents spilling all over you. The red liquid sinks into your blue sweater, soaking you through all three layers.

“What the hell?” Soonyoung says.

“That gets your fucking attention? Spilling your drink?” You say. “You know, I really thought you were different.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re acting like a child. So you didn’t win the bet. Who fucking cares? Do you know how hard it is to get higher than a 160? Soonyoung, you are smart, and you worked so hard for this. You could go to law school with that score. You could graduate above a 2.3 if you stopped acting like a stereotypical fuck bro and actually studied.

“You know, you could actually be something if you wanted. You don’t have to get a degree and work at a corporate job that sucks your soul away until the Soonyoung that actually matters is gone. I know it’s easier this way, but if you actually tried to dream, you could do something. I don’t get it, honestly. Because everyone thinks you’re an idiot you act like one? Is that what it is?”

“You don’t have to pretend like you don’t think the same thing.”

You snort. “I don’t, but clearly you won’t believe me. You think that if you have to work for something then it’s not worth it when you could be so much more.”

“Why do you even care?” Soonyoung asks, looking you in the eyes for the first time. For a moment, you think you might actually be wrong, because all you see in his eyes is pain. A physical force that constricts your heart and makes you weak in the knees, Soonyoung looks at you like he’s been fighting a war you never knew about, like he’s been suffering in silence for a lifetime. He looks at you like you’ve broken his heart.

Why do I care? You could scoff. Because I’ve been in love with you ever since you fell asleep on my shoulder. I’ve been fighting this stupid crush for so long that I don’t know who I am without it. I don’t know who I am without you. I care because every day the world proves that we aren’t worthy of this planet, that love can’t solve all problems yet you make me question it all. You don’t just bring light into my life, you make it glitter. And I can’t tell you any of this.

“I don’t know.” The lie tastes bitter but it’s still sweeter than rejection.

“Then why are you here?” Soonyoung looks away. Without his eyes pinning you down, you can breathe again, but every inhale still drags against your heart. You stand up. Afterall, you don’t have an answer for him.

“I take it back. You are an idiot,” you mutter over his head as you walk past him. You make it to the corner of the street before the tears finally spill over your cheeks, and all the way back to your room before you can’t breathe.

Without the distraction of finals, you are left with your own thoughts, your words and Soonyoung’s floating around your head. You have always been something of a hermit but you’ve become J.D. Salinger himself, only leaving your room to sneak into the kitchen and scrounge for scraps of junk food that Jihoon hasn’t thrown away yet. You watch so much reality TV that you start to dream about it.

Every episode the people, a family living on a homestead that just happens to dress in brand name clothes and drive a Benz, fight and cry and make up. You yell at the mother when she forces her daughter to change because she didn’t think polka dots are appropriate and cry along with the daughter when she starts to sniffle in her confessional, wondering if her mother would ever approve of her choices, whether it was clothes or the people she wants to date.

You bet your confessional would be a hit if it was ever filmed. Tears run down your cheeks as you practice it in the mirror, choking out an apology for calling him an idiot and telling the whole world what you aren’t brave enough to tell him.

Jun calls but you can’t answer. He leaves three voicemails: an apology, a goofy one telling you he’ll be back soon, and a final one, yelling at you to pick up or at least let him know you’re alive. You text him an apology you don’t know if you mean. He says thank you anyway and doesn’t call again.

You have no plans to change your schedule (wake up, steal food, cry, sleep) but on the third day you run out of goldfish and can’t find anything in the kitchen that doesn’t make you nauseous. To make matters worse, despite the fact that it’s seven in the morning (the earliest you’ve woken up since the Fight), Jihoon catches you.

You’ve successfully avoided him and his inevitable lecture, slamming your door shut and ignoring his knocks but he catches you off guard today. He sneaks in from his morning workout wearing a black t-shirt and slides that he somehow manages to walk stealthily in, scaring you when you close the fridge and find him standing where the door was.

“Are you done hiding?”

“I’m not hiding,” you mutter.

He folds his arms.

“Fine,” you say. “I’m not done hiding.”

“Well too fucking bad,” Jihoon says. You try to step past him but he holds his arm out. You’ll never beat him in a physical fight so you step back, shaking your head.

“Have it your way. Go ahead.” You wave your hand. “Get it all out. Yell at me or lecture me or whatever, I don’t care. You’re going to tell me that I’m an idiot? That I shouldn’t be so afraid of rejection, that I’m blind to how he feels?

“Or are you going to tell me that I shouldn’t trust someone like him? That I shouldn’t be crying over a goddamn frat boy, I’m better than this, I’m better than him.” You choke back a sob, not sure what words are coming out anymore. You wipe at the tears in your eyes and are so focused on trying not to cry that you don’t notice Jihoon walking away. You do see him come back, blurry shape coming into focus as you blink away the tears. He holds something in his hand, a navy blue square. A throw pillow from the couch?

He shifts it in his hand until he holds the corner with the zipper, swinging it a couple times back and forth. Then he yanks his arm back and arcs the pillow in a wide loop, landing directly on your head.

“Ow!” You cry but Jihoon just swings again, hitting your arm this time. He hits you so hard it knocks you off balance, sending you to the floor. Jihoon doesn’t hesitate, swinging the pillow into you again and again, every inch of you.

“You. Are. An. Idiot.” He grunts out each word with a blow. “You really think you’re better than him?”

He finally pauses, not even breathing heavily. You shake your head to answer him. “Of course not.”

“Good,” he says. Then he hits you again and again and again.

“Ow, Jihoon, what the hell?” You bury your head in your knees and hold your arms over you, trying in vain to protect yourself.

“I’m not your babysitter,” he says. “I’m not your father, or your brother, or any of that shit. I’m your best friend and you’re being an idiot and I’m not going to stop hitting you until you get some sense knocked into you.” He freezes, as if realizing exactly what he said. “Wait, no–that’s not what I mean, shit, sorry, but–”

You peek out from your arms and find Jihoon opening and closing his mouth, trying to figure out what to say. He looks like a fish out of water, and it occurs to you he is a fish out of water. He’s never had to comfort you before, probably never had to comfort anyone. No wonder he’s so bad at it.

You wouldn’t laugh at him and borderline abuse, but your emotions are beyond fried, and he just looks so funny standing over you with a pillow raised, still sputtering half apologies. You try to stop the laugh before it comes out but it turns into a snort and then you can’t stop laughing, tears that you tried to push back falling freely. You lay back on the floor and laugh until your sides hurt, only vaguely aware of Jihoon laughing above you. Eventually he joins you on the floor.

“You know what I meant,” he says. The pillow rests on the floor between his legs, all the fluff on the far end from the one-sided pillow fight.

“I knew what you meant without the pillow.”

“Too bad,” Jihoon says. “I’m tired of listening to the theme song of that god awful show. You could at least watch something like–”

“I swear if you bring up an anime, you’ll feel exactly how hard that pillow can hit.”

Jihoon laughs, patting it a couple times. “I saw him the other day. He looked tired.” He pauses but you don’t dare speak. “We didn’t speak. I don’t even think he saw me. But it doesn’t matter because I’m not the one he needs to talk to.”

“I know,” you say.

“Then why are you still on the floor?”

Because you’re scared. Because it would be easier to just give up now, for once to ignore putting in the hard work and just let it pass. But just because it’s the easy option doesn’t mean it’s the right option. At the very least you need to apologize to him.

“What if he hates me?”

Jihoon snorts. “Then he’ll get some pillow violence too.” He pauses. “He doesn’t, though.”

“It doesn’t mean that it will turn out okay.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Jihoon says. “But no matter what happens, you’ll deal with it. And even if it absolutely sucks in the moment, eventually it will be over, and it sure as hell will be better than that stupid fucking show.”

You nod, setting your chin on your knees. Your stomach turns in anticipation for what you will have to do, but he’s right. It’s time to stop running. Tonight is the Christmas party, and you were never formally uninvited. Somehow you doubt Seungcheol will throw you out. It’s time to get off the floor and get ready.

“Have you ever thought of being a life coach?”

“Hell no.”

What am I doing here? You fake a smile at Seungcheol and swallow the shot as fast as you can, grimacing as the vodka burns everything from the inside of your mouth to the depths of your stomach. You should have just stuck to your mixed drink only policy but Soonyoung always has you breaking your rules. Even when he isn’t with you.

Seungcheol disappears as soon as you take the drink, and you don't see anyone else you are comfortable enough to chat with, though that list is quite short. You do a turn of the house, which looks marginally better than the last time you saw it ,the benefit of bad lighting. It’s already crowded with more people than you’ve ever seen on campus. You make your way through each room on the lower floor, finding more than a couple bleach blondes. None are who you’re looking for. You stop in the living room, where you saw him last.

“He isn’t here.” You turn at the voice. An unfamiliar boy stands next to you, holding a half-empty Smirnoff Ice. “He went to visit family or something.” He pauses, looking you up and down. “At least that’s what he said.”

You nod. You find it doesn’t surprise you that he seems to know who you are. You suppose you’ve grown used to it, just one of the side-effects of being close with Soonyoung. Though it’s still strange, it doesn’t make you uncomfortable anymore. Or it wouldn’t, if you didn’t think this stranger is implying that it’s your fault Soonyoung isn’t at the ‘Party of the Year.’

You can’t stand his gaze so you make your way back towards the drinks, grabbing the first bottle you could find and chugging half of the lukewarm drink. It tastes like a fruit you can’t recognize and carbonation and the more you drink the harder it is to swallow but you force it down.

You came to apologize. He isn’t here, so why do you stay? Because you promised him? Do you really miss him that much? That you would come here and suffer through all this chaos, just for the memory of him? It doesn’t make any sense but you think that might be a side effect of the alcohol. You get another drink just in case you’re still sober.

Your head pounds, the aching feeling of the stage between drunk and sober. Normally you’d like to be sound asleep by now, or at least in the comfort of your home, but you can’t bring yourself to leave. It’s hot and sweaty, the music is way too loud, and you can’t find water anywhere, but you stay anyway, because you’re an idiot that fell in love.

You curl up on the couch, opposite of a couple making out as if the room isn’t full of people, waiting for just a glimpse of him that will never appear. Even drunk, you think it’s pitiful, but you can’t stop.

You didn’t think you could fall asleep in all the noise but you open your eyes when you feel the world tilt sideways. You’re vaguely aware of the arms underneath your legs and back, cradling you against someone’s chest. No, not just someone.

Because you aren’t enough of an idiot, you can tell it’s him, his sweet scent, maybe even just his arms. Soonyoung carries you out of the living room and up the stairs, the blaring music fading only slightly.

“I thought you weren’t here,” you mumble.

Soonyoung frowns down at you. “You okay?”

You shake your head, suddenly realizing there are tears in your eyes. No, I’m not okay, I love you, you want to say. He squeezes you a little tighter, trying to hug you while still carrying you.

With your head resting against his chest, you can fully appreciate his beauty. His hair is black, which suits him even though he looks nothing like your Soonyoung anymore. You reach up and trace the lines of his face that are unchanging, the sharp straight line of his jaw, the gentle curve of his nose, his soft eyebrows. You drop your hand when you realize he’s staring at you, belatedly realizing you never got to his lips. You can only imagine how soft they’d be, soft like Soonyoung himself.

“You’re crying,” Soonyoung says softly. You can’t tell if he’s talking to you or not. He pauses in front of a door, struggling to open it without dropping you. Finally the door swings open and he sets you down on a bed, taking a deep breath and sitting beside you.

He brushes the tears from your eyes, as Soonyoung as ever. Sweet as ever. Sweet and Soonyoung. They should be the same word. You make a mental note to email Merriam-Webster’s dictionary and make the suggestion.

Soonyoung doesn’t say anything, just watching you with those perfect eyes. His hand rests on your face even though the tears are long gone, thumb tracing shapes on your cheek.

“You swore you’d do anything for me,” you say.

“Anything,” Soonyoung repeats.

You turn to the walls, knocking his hand off your cheek, not daring to look him in the eyes. Even drunk, you are a coward. He’s put up pictures on his wall, a couple Polaroids but mostly printed pictures, with the frat, some childhood pictures, and one that you recognize. The picture of the two of you at the beach that you thought you didn’t send, where you are looking at him with all the love in your heart. You trace his smile, blinding even in paper form.

“Could you maybe try loving me back then?” You mumble. Your eyes feel heavy between the alcohol and the tears and you’ve said what you needed to say, so you let them take over, closing your eyes and letting the blasting music from downstairs drown out any thoughts. And because it’s so loud and you’ve already drifted off to sleep, there’s no way you could hear his answer.

“I already do.”

The first thing you do when you wake up is throw up. You make it out of the bed but not to the bathroom, mostly because you don’t actually know where it is. You grab the nearest bucket-shaped item, which happens to be a mostly empty trash can. You lean away as soon as you’re done, breathing through your mouth and looking away from the mess. Belatedly, you realize someone is patting your back, brushing hair out of your face.

“Better?” Soonyoung asks. His knees rests against your lower back, one hand resting on your back, the other caressing your face. Thank god you already threw up because looking at him makes your stomach twist again and if there was anything in you, it would come up again. If you could throw up your heart, you would. As it is, the organ is trying to climb its way up your throat, whether it’s guilt or heartbreak you don’t know.

You nod in answer to his question, letting him help you up. Your head pounds and though you know you won’t throw up again, your stomach flips. Right, your policy of mixed drinks is definitely reinstated after this.

“Sorry I threw up in your trash can,” you say.

“Believe me, that is not the worst that trash can has seen,” Soonyoung says. “Wait, that sounds bad, I didn’t mean it in a weird way, I just mean–” He stops himself, shaking his head. “It’s a frat house.”

“It’s your room,” you say softly. With sober (albeit heavily hungover) eyes, you take in the room again. It’s tiny, one bed pushed against a wall with a desk set right next to it. Unsurprisingly, it’s stacked with protein powder and a pile of frat flyers, laptop balancing off the edge, not a paper in sight. Except for the one next to his bed, the walls are bare, an ugly shade of beige except for a circle filled with white plaster that looks suspiciously like the reformed crime scene of a fist going through drywall. It must be from whoever owned the room before Soonyoung.

The wall next to his bed is covered in pictures. You remember being amazed by them last night. Your eyes zero in on the picture of the two of you, right next to the pillow that’s still dented from your head.

“Did I steal your bed?” You frown except the movement hurts your head.

“I slept in Johnny’s room since he’s decided to disappear off the face of the planet instead of accepting the fact that he graduates next semester,” Soonyoung says. “I actually just came in here for some clothes, which reminds me.” He rummages through a drawer, pulling out a wrinkled t-shirt and handing it to you. “If you want a change.”

You glance down and feel like throwing up all over again. Your favorite shirt is covered in stains, alcohol, vomit, and something you definitely don’t want to name. If you weren’t feeling so terrible already, you’d cry that Soonyoung is seeing you like this.

“I’ll get you a toothbrush, too,” he mutters, disappearing and leaving you to scramble to switch shirts. The white dri-fit is meant to be a workout shirt, though it’s clear that it would be oversize on Soonyoung. Either way, the soft fabric is gentle on your skin, much better than the jeans you slept in. Too bad you’re stuck in them until you get back to your apartment.

You could run away right now. Soonyoung probably wouldn’t be surprised. But he’s being nice to you, so much nicer than you deserve. Sweet and Soonyoung. But you came here to apologize, and though last night got derailed, you can’t keep running from it. Besides, it’s not like the morning can get much worse.

So when Soonyoung comes back proudly brandishing an unopened toothbrush that he may or may not have stolen from Seungcheol’s bathroom, you accept it gratefully. You stare yourself down in the bathroom, fighting nausea and an impending migraine because you have a mission to achieve, a real mission unlike last night. It’s still a haze, but you don’t think you’ll ever forget how gently Soonyoung cradled you against his chest, the brush of his fingers on your cheek. If he didn’t show up this morning, you’d think it was a dream.

Soonyoung’s door is open when you finish but he isn’t in his room. You grab your bag from the floor and venture down the stairs, leaning heavily on the railing. There’s a couple people passed out in the living room, and one person snoring softly in the kitchen, head folded in his arms in a position that must be incredibly painful for his neck. But it’s where you find Soonyoung, digging through the fridge and finally pulling out a water bottle. He hands it to you, along with a bottle of pills.

“Thank you,” you sigh, not even bothering to check the label for the brand. You take a couple and chug half the bottle, gaslighting yourself into believing that it will instantly revive you (it doesn’t work and your head still pounds).

“Are you hungry?” Soonyoung asks. He opens the fridge again, this time wide enough to show the shelves that are filled with beer, vodka, and White Claws. There’s a pizza box and some eggs, but not much else.

“How are any of you alive?” You ask softly, glancing at the snoring person on the counter.

“Yuta can sleep through an apocalypse, don’t worry about him,” Soonyoung says, waving his hand. He closes the fridge, leaning against it. “And most of us keep our actual food in mini-fridges. I just cleared mine out for break, so I don’t have anything in it.” He doesn’t say anything else about vanishing.

“I’m pretty sure that pizza has been in there since the start of the semester and I’ve never seen eggs in here before though, so I don’t think you should risk any of this,” Soonyoung says. “McDonald’s fries are a far superior hangover cure, they’ve never failed me.”

“There’s a McDonald’s nearby?”

Soonyoung grins, pulling keys out of his pocket and spinning them around his fingers a couple times, except they fly off and clatter on the floor. The man asleep on the counter, Yuta apparently, stirs but doesn’t move. You can’t help but smile as Soonyoung scrambles to retrieve them from the floor. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was flustered.

“There isn’t one,” Soonyoung explains, leading the way to the door. “But I have the keys to Seungcheol’s car.”

“I’m not really comfortable with grand theft auto,” you say, though you don’t stop following him to Seungcheol’s giant white Jeep.

“He gave me the keys last night when I walked in,” Soonyoung says. “Something about owing me. He was pretty drunk.” He darts around to the passenger side before you can, opening the door for you. He waves his hand when you frown at him, as if you’re the one acting strange. Thinking with this headache is too hard so you just get into the car and strap the seatbelt on.

“I can’t believe you thought I’d steal a car,” Soonyoung says. He turns the engine on and scans the front of the car before finally settling his right hand on the gear shift.

“You have driven this car before, right?”

“Of course,” Soonyoung says a little too fast. You grab onto the door handle and hope that your stomach really is empty.

Soonyoung’s driving isn’t the worst you’ve ever experienced; that title goes to Jihoon, who was banned from touching car keys after his Mario Kart driving. That said, you think he’s a good second place. He slams on the gas and the brakes too hard and drives altogether too fast. He blasts the radio and sings along purposefully off key. You should be terrified but it’s the most fun you’ve ever had riding in the passenger seat.

“I’m never riding with you again,” you say, breathless from laughing. He pulls to a stop at the red light, the Golden arches of your destination still one light away. “You know yellow lights mean slow down right?”

“I stopped at this one!” Soonyoung says. “I’ll have you know I haven’t been in an accident.” He pauses. “Since I was nineteen.”

You nod, pursing your lips to stop yourself from smiling fully. “That’s what I figured.” You peek at Soonyoung and he’s smiling too.

So different from the last time you saw him. You don’t deserve this. You shouldn’t be able to laugh and joke around with him so easily, not when you still haven’t apologized. And Soonyoung shouldn’t be looking at you like that, genuine fondness in his eyes.

“The light’s green,” you say. His smile fades a little when he turns his head and drives ahead, stepping lightly for once. You’re so close now, but a car going straight in the right lane prevents him from turning.

The pain medicine must have kicked in because your headache is slowly fading, replaced by heartache that no medication can cure.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” You blurt out.

The blinker beeps a steady rhythm in the empty silence. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“Nothing’s ever obvious with you, Soonyoung,” you say softly.

“Oh.” The light turns green and he guides the car slowly into the parking lot, stopping in a spot instead of pulling up to the drive through. As soon as the car is in park, he turns to face you. There’s a crease in his forehead that you recognize from the rare occasions that he would actually talk to you seriously. “YN, I genuinely thought I was being clear about this from the beginning, but if you still really don’t get it, then I’ll say it straight up: I like you. I’ve liked you since the day we met and then I fell in love with you.

“Did you know you’re the first person that’s ever genuinely believed in me? I mean, I know I have friends, and my family means well, but they always get this look in their eye whenever I talk about trying for things, like it was cute that I was trying, but they never actually believed in me. And I started to believe them too. I started to believe that I couldn’t believe in myself.” He frowns. “That makes no sense. The point is, you are the reason I started to believe in myself again.

“No one’s ever looked at me like you do. No one’s ever told me to get my shit together–well, they have, but you’re the only one that told me it was because I could be better.

“You say it wasn’t obvious, but I’ve tried to tell you a thousand times. I flirted, I tried to ask you on a date so many times, and I finally accepted that you’d never see me like that, so I was a dick. I told you off, even though you were right. I’m so sorry for that, and I’m sorry I ran away, and I’m sorry it took me so long to apologize.”

“Stop,” you say. Soonyoung’s eyes widen, tears welling up, and you realize he thinks you’re rejecting him. “Stop apologizing!” His brow creases in confusion, an adorable frown. Summoning all your courage, you reach out, resting your hand on his. “I’m the one that’s sorry. I didn’t have any right to judge you and the choices you were making, and I shouldn’t have yelled at you when I knew how much the bet meant to you.”

You squeeze his hand, closing your eyes. “And I think I was a little oblivious on purpose. I’m not the kind of person that has crushes, let alone crushes that like me back, so I freaked a little and missed all the signs.” You open your eyes and grin at him. It’s easy to feel brave when he smiles back at you. “But I like you, Soonyoung. I like you so much, I don’t have enough words to express it. My whole life has been about my future, my career, and it’s exhausting, but being with you makes it all exciting again. Like, no matter what happens, if you’re with me, it won’t just be okay, it’ll be fun.”

Soonyoung beams. “Really?”

You squeeze his hand. “I like you.” Like the first time you took the LSAT, you can’t think of a single word, except instead of damning your future this feels like the start of it. Soonyoung sits across from you and you don’t need words.

You don’t know how long you sit there, but reality sets in when your stomach growls. You glance outside the window and remember where you are. “Did you just confess to me in a McDonald’s parking lot?”

“Better than drunk in my own bed.”

“I didn’t!” You let go of his hand to hide your face.

Soonyoung grins. “You were cute!”

“I don’t remember it, it doesn't count!”

“Whatever you say,” Soonyoung says, leaning over the center console. He gently pulls your hands away from your face, hand circling your wrist gently. You instinctively hold your breath, though you don’t lean away. Soonyoung leans a little closer, forehead resting against yours.

“This okay?” He whispers, breath kissing your lips, and you remember that less than an hour ago, you were throwing up. Your head still aches and your stomach is still queasy and your whole body feels disgusting.

“We are not having our first kiss in a McDonald’s parking lot,” you say, leaning back. Soonyoung sighs, but he sits back in his chair, settling for grabbing your hand and interlacing his fingers with yours.

“Fine,” Soonyoung says. He rubs his thumb back and forth, and when you meet his eyes, you see a familiar glint of trouble. “You know I’m still sworn to you. Whatever you want.”

The words go straight to your heart. You could live a thousand lives and never meet someone as genuine as Soonyoung. You know that he means it, heart and soul, that he’d do anything for you. And it should be terrifying that he’s willing to bear his heart for you, that you are willing to do the same. But it’s Soonyoung. It’s easy to trust him with it, because even though he breaks half the computers he touches and can’t hold onto a pencil for his life, he won’t ever drop your heart.

I love you. One day you’ll be able to say it, one day you’ll scream it like you so desperately want to. But until then, you settle for his certified brilliant smile and the gentle brush of his lips on the back of your hand, only letting go to turn the engine back on.

“Let’s get you some fries,” he says. “Then kisses?”

You shake your head and laugh, slipping your hand back into his.

Before he can put the car into gear, his phone rings. He stares at the screen for a moment, frowning like he can’t decide whether he should answer it or not. Finally he slides the green across, turning on speaker.

“Hey Seungcheol, I’m with—”

“Where the hell are you? And where is my car?” Seungcheol’s voice is somewhere between angry and concerned. “You think it’s okay to vanish and then show up only to steal my car?”

“First of all, you gave me the keys,” Soonyoung says. He glances at you. “And I’m at McDonald’s because YN desperately needed a hangover cure.”

“Hey,” you say so Seungcheol knows you’re there.

The line is quiet for so long you think Soonyoung’s phone has finally given up on him but eventually he says, “You’re with YN?”

“We talked,” he says. “And we’re good.”

You snort. “That’s how you’re going to describe it?”

“Are we not good?”

You glance at your hand still intertwined with his, the Soonyoung Sparkle glittering back at you when you look him in the eyes. Good? There’s not a word to describe how you feel right now.

“We are beyond good.”

“Are you crying?” You whisper. Soonyoung shakes his head, chin brushing against your head but when he inhales again, he sniffles. You reach up to pat his cheek and are entirely unsurprised when it’s wet. On screen Elle Woods continues her speech, for once not wearing pink.

“She’s just so cool,” Soonyoung says. You lift your head off his chest so you can look him in the eyes. The temptation to tease him is hard to resist but he pouts his lips and you see another tear slip out. You kiss his cheek, out of habit more than anything. Strange how much can change in two weeks, how something you’ve never imagined doing has become natural. But being with Soonyoung is just like that. New and old at the same time, the kind of comfort that has you planning how to make this last a lifetime.

Soonyoung wraps his arms around you tighter, so you nestle back into his chest, turning away from the end of the movie to close your eyes and breathe in his cologne.

“I can’t believe you’ve never seen this,” you whisper, lips brushing against his neck. “The whole bet was based on a movie you haven’t seen.”

“You’re missing the end,” he says. His voice rumbles in your ear, drowning out his heartbeat.

“I’ve seen it before.” Your bed really isn’t built for two people to lay down together. You are laying more on Soonyoung than the mattress but it’s not the first time. From the way he holds you, you doubt it’ll be the last.

The credits roll too quickly, but Soonyoung still doesn’t let go. He pulls you up so that your head is next to his, nose centimeters away from yours.

“So am I officially qualified to go to law school?” He asks.

“You are Elle Woods certified,” you say. “But you’re sure that’s what you want?”

“I mean I have to get in. But I figure if I’m going to waste away at a desk, I might as well do it for something I believe in.” He pauses. “With someone that believes in me.” He presses a kiss to the side of your neck, breath tickling the sensitive skin. You can’t help but sigh.

“That doesn’t mean it’s what you want,” you say, after several heartbeats of struggling to think.

“I want…” His words “To be with you. However you’ll have me.” His arms loosen, hands sliding down to your waist.

“Still not answering the question,” you breathe out but you can’t even remember what the question is, not when he’s shifting to lay on top of you, lips inching their way up your neck. He kisses your jaw, your cheek, the corner of your lips, then stops, pulling away and meeting your eyes again.

The Soonyoung Sparkle. The grinch has nothing on you–your heart swells so large it feels like it’s going to explode out of your chest–Alien style. Does he know what he does to you? How he’s made everything in your life shine? How happy you are when he’s with you?

“I love you,” you whisper.

Soonyoung blinks at you. “You…”

“I love you,” you say again, this time with more confidence. “I really, really love you.”

Soonyoung grins, leaning down and pressing his lips to yours, moving like the world outside has stopped. He makes a bubble around you again, or maybe it’s your own heart; either way the only thing that exists is the way his hands inch up your shirt, the way his lips begin to press harder against yours. You give up on coherent thoughts, settling for wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer.

“I love you, too,” Soonyoung whispers between kisses. “If that wasn’t obvious.”

Soonyoung who always treated you like you were enough already. Soonyoung who does everything with 100% of his heart. Soonyoung who has always been sincere with you, from the first day you met him. Soonyoung, who you are so lucky to be loved by.

You don’t know how to say any of this in a way that makes sense so you let his fire melt you until you are putty in his arms. He pulls away, and the Soonyoung Sparkle burns, your personal stars flickering back at you.

“You want to–” Soonyoung starts to say, but the door slams open. Then Soonyoung falls on you, pillow rolling off his head.

“I’m taking this back!” Someone shouts while you hear Jihoon cursing.

“Read the room, idiot!” Soonyoung pushes off of you, sitting up and pulling your shirt down as smoothly as he can. You sit up, trying to decide if you should be embarrassed or angry. Facing Jun, frozen midstep with his jaw hanging open a little and Jihoon in the doorway with his arms folded, shaking his head slightly, you opt for the latter.

“Does no one knock in Colombia?” You frown at him. “And when did you get back? Why didn’t you call?”

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” he mumbles, staring at his feet. “And you were supposed to be alone, according to my sources.” He glares at Jihoon.

“YN didn’t say he was coming over,” he says with a shrug.

You turn your frown to him. “You walked in halfway through the movie, I literally shouted ‘Soonyoung’s over.’”

“I had my headphones on,” he says, though he’s avoiding your eyes too. Typical of your friends, never claiming responsibility for their actions.

“So this is Soonyoung,” Jun says, turning to face him. Soonyoung moved to the edge of the bed, too far away for your taste but probably an appropriate distance for your friends, especially compared to what they walked in on. Jun tilts his head. “You dyed your hair.”

“Yeah,” Soonyoung scratches the back of his head. “Spur of the moment thing.” You miss the blonde, surprisingly fitting considering it isn’t his natural color. But the black suits him too, and probably will help him with law school interviews. Then again, knowing Soonyoung, this color won’t last long either. Good thing there isn’t a color you don’t think suits him.

“We should do this properly,” Soonyoung says. “Go out for dinner or something.”

“Hey, I didn’t get dinner,” Jihoon says.

“You want to get dinner with me?” Soonyoung perks up.

“No, I’m protesting unfair treatment.”

“It’s not unfair, I’m just clearly his favorite,” Jun says.

“Can you guys stop fighting over my boyfriend?” You say.

Jihoon and Jun stare at you. When Soonyoung turns to face you, he grins, eyes sparkling.

“What?”

“You just called him your boyfriend,” Jun says.

“Well… he is.” You feel your cheeks flush. “Why are you guys making it weird?”

“It’s not weird,” Soonyoung says. He scoots closer to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “It’s cute,” he whispers in your ear. “Adorable.” This only makes you flush even more.

“Well, I don’t want to interrupt, so I’ll just grab this and you two can get back to… whatever.” Jun takes a step towards your bookcase. You grab the pillow that he threw at Soonyoung and nail him in the chest, earning a laugh from Jihoon.

“Don’t even think about it.”

“The book is mine, Soonyoung never fulfilled the bet!” Jun says. You stand up, blocking him from your Pride and Prejudice.

“Hey, I followed through!” Soonyoung says. “We’re dating!”

“I remember the bet stating that you had to ask YN out after you took the LSAT.” Jun turns to him.

“And I did,” Soonyoung says. “You never said it had to be right after.”

Jun eyes him. “That’s cheating.”

“That’s being a lawyer,” you say. “And I think he’s going to be really good at it.”

Jun glances between you and Soonyoung and shakes his head. “Whatever, I’ll get my book back another day.”

You step closer to Soonyoung and he links his pinky with yours. You glance at your friends. “Are you going to stand there forever or are we getting dinner?”

“You two don’t want to get back to what you were doing?” Jihoon asks.

You slip your hand into Soonyoung’s. He meets your eyes and he’s only been your boyfriend for two weeks but looking at him is like looking home. There’s no need to rush.

“Sounds like someone doesn’t want to pick where we go.”

“We should make them pay, too,” Soonyoung says.

You grin at him. “You are the smartest person I know.”

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icouldntcareless22 · 6 months

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vernon; miss guided (m)

feat. vernon x matchmaker!reader

genre/warnings: alcohol/lang, fratbois and other west uni cultures, matchmaker missmatching, cliche plots galore!! teeny weeny angst alluding to prior social awkwardness, bucket hats, aaaaand 69 (bottles of bobaaaaa)

word count: 15.3k (my longest fic yetYYYEHEETTY)

Keep reading

2K notes · View notes

icouldntcareless22 · 6 months

Text

Summary: 8 unique people, 8 unique stories of meeting their destinies.

a/n: each one it its own universe. you don't have to read one to understand another. I just thought it would be fun to do this for all the members!

vote for which story you want to see first!

if you would like to be added to the taglist click here!

masterlist

♡Put Your Hand in Mine♡ (Release date: TDB)

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader

Genre: Non-idol au, angst, fluff, strangers to lovers

Word Count: TBD

Soulmark: Each person has a mark where their soulmate will first touch them.

Summary: "That's not how I thought this was gonna happen."

♡What's Mine is Yours♡ | Teaser

Pairing: Lee Minho x Reader

Genre: Idol au, angst, fluff, strangers to lovers

Word Count: TBD

Soulmark: Lost items end up in the other's possession.

Summary: "How many times are they going to lose this same damn thing?"

♡Love on Fire♡ (Release date: TDB)

Pairing: Seo Changbin x Reader

Genre: Idol au, angst, fluff, comedy, strangers to lovers

Word Count: TBD

Soulmark: Hot & Cold. The closer you are the warmer you are, the farther the colder.

Summary: "Why are you suddenly so cold? It's the middle of summer?"

♡Two Truths and a Lie♡ (Release date: TDB)

Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin x Reader

Genre: Non-idol au, angst, fluff, best friends to lovers

Word Count: TBD

Soulmark: You can't lie to your soulmate.

Summary: "Would I ever lie to you?."

♡Sticks & Stones♡ (Release date: TDB)

Pairing: Han Jisung x Reader

Genre: Non-idol au, angst, fluff, comedy, strangers to lovers

Word Count: TBD

Soulmark: You share the same injuries as your soulmate.

Summary: "I think I just broke my ankle." "But you were just standing there?"

♡Rainbow Connection♡ (Release date: TDB)

Pairing: Lee Felix x Reader

Genre: Idol au, angst, fluff, comedy, strangers to lovers

Word Count: TBD

Soulmark: Everyone has a strip on their wrist that is the color of their soulmate's hair.

Summary: "This is the second time this week. Is their scalp okay?"

♡Strike a Pose♡ (Release date: TDB)

Pairing: Kim Seungmin x Reader

Genre: Non-idol au, college au, angst, fluff, comedy, strangers to enemies to lovers

Word Count: TBD

Soulmark: You share the same talents as your soulmate.

Summary: "Do you know how to do anything other than sticking your camera in people's faces?"

♡Tracing Hearts♡ (Release date: TDB)

Pairing: Yang Jeongin x Reader

Genre: Non-idol au, angst, fluff, comedy, strangers to lovers

Word Count: TBD

Soulmark: Whatever you write or draw on yourself shows up on your soulmate, too.

Summary: "I have an interview soon, but my soulmate thought it would be funny to draw this on my cheek."

367 notes · View notes

icouldntcareless22 · 6 months

Text

What's Mine Is Yours || LMH

Pairing: Lee Minho x GN!Reader

Genre: Idol au, angst, fluff, slow burn, strangers to lovers

Word Count: 14.3k+

Soulmark: Lost items end up in the other’s possession.

Summary: “How many times are they going to lose this same damn thing?”

Warnings: it switches povs a lot in this fic, so be warned, reader lives in Korea but there is no indication of what ethnicity they are, implied sex, language, it's a very slow burn fic with some good angst, but still very fluffy!!, if i missed anything please let me know!

a/n: it's FINALLY here! I'm so sorry for keeping you all waiting. but i really do think it will be worth the wait! I ended up last minute adding a couple scenes to make it flow better, so that's why it took a little longer to post. and even though it's almost 2am, i felt obligated to post it as soon as i was done. so please enjoy the first fic of this series! i hope to get the others done and posted faster than this took lol

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“Five minutes 'till show!”

“What song are we doing first?”

“This is our eighth show and you still can’t remember?”

“I need chapstick!”

The rush backstage before a concert starts has always been crazy. Staff are running left and right chasing some of the members down for last minute touches on makeup and hair, while others are helping fix problem areas in new stage looks. They’re antsy to get the groups ready in time. The echoes of the crowd in the full stadium make their way to the green room, sending everyone the much needed rush of energy to finish their tasks. It’s even more hectic when everything is off schedule by a few minutes.

“Lee Know, where’s your in-ears?”

Minho glances up at the manager beside him as he pats down his pockets. He jerks his head towards the table with the extra mic packs and in-ears. An empty spot where he remembers placing them a minute ago.

“I swear I put them right here.”

“We can’t keep doing this.” The manager rubs his palm against his forehead. “It would be a lot easier if you knew who your soulmate was already.”

Minho rolls his eyes, unclipping his mic pack from his pants.

“Don’t I wish,” he grumbles.

A pair of standard in-ears are shoved in his direction. Minho gladly takes them, plugging them into the pack, and clips it back on his pants. Another staff member helps him weave the cord through the back of his shirt. His manager gestures to them, a stern look on his face.

“These come straight back to us.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Minho waves him off. “I know the drill.”

The door to the room opens again as a stage crew member leans his body in, effectively cutting off whatever else his manager was going to say. The screams and chants grow louder with each second that passes by, and Minho’s heart beats increasingly faster with the adrenaline that’s starting to finally kick in.

“Two minutes!”

Chan is by his side the moment the door is closed again. He smiles at Minho, wraps his arm around his waist, and guides him to where the rest of the group stands by the door.

“C’mon, let’s go.”

Heejin slams her hand on the table, stealing your—and a couple other people sitting around you—attention away from the menu in your hands. She stares wide-eyed at her phone. Her thumb slides along the screen up and down a few times as you watch her with a raised brow, waiting for her to say something.

“Oh my god,” Heejin whispers. She looks up at you, a shocked expression still painted on her face. “Did you hear?”

“What?”

She flips her phone to face you. A single tweet is pulled up, the video on it restarting its loop when you see it. You watch for a moment. Even without the sound, or the best camera angle, you can already tell who it is. And with the way you see him fiddling with his earpiece before deciding to unplug them and toss them to the side of the stage, you know exactly what Heejin is going to say.

“Apparently Lee Know lost his in-ears again!” You knew that already. Especially if the set of specially made ones that showed up on your bed last night has anything to do with it. But you weren’t going to say anything to her. She turns her phone back toward herself, exiting out of the tweet and scrolling through a few more on her feed. “He had to perform with some older ones and they were giving him issues the entire time. There are so many videos! How many is this now?”

Over twenty, you recall. You’ve never actually counted, but you’re sure that with how full the box under your bed is with them—plus all the other random items of his that you can’t put to use—it’s a pretty high number.

“How do you know this?”

“Twitter. Duh,” she scoffs.

“I- nevermind.”

Heejin sets her phone down on the table. She rests her arms against the edge, her focus on you. There is a sense of seriousness to her posture. And the way she stares at you, almost as if she’s looking deep into your soul, has you leaning back as far as you can without accidentally bumping any waiters as they walk past your table.

“What do you think his soulmark is? If it was that lost items one, I’d feel bad for his soulmate.”

Heejin juts out her bottom lip slightly. You clear your throat, raising an eyebrow.

“What do you mean?”

“He seems to lose things a lot.” She shrugs, leans back, and picks up her menu without so much as another thought about the topic. “What are you getting?”

Odd.

The moment he sits down, he knows something is weird. Minho pats his front pocket. With his eyebrows closely knit, he shoves his hand inside, grabbing the object. He sighs once he sees what it is.

“How many times are they going to lose this same damn thing?” he mumbles.

Chan, deciding to plop down beside him as they take a break during dance practice, speaks up.

“What is it now?”

Minho holds the item up, not bothering to give Chan so much as a glance.

“Chapstick. I can’t tell you how many I’ve found over the years.” He takes the lid off, chuckling to himself when he looks inside. “It's always almost gone, too.”

Chan lets out a laugh of his own, bumping Minho’s shoulder with his. When Minho turns to look at the older, Chan lifts his eyebrows teasingly.

“Well, at least you know what their lips will taste like when you kiss them.”

He’s right. Every single one you’ve lost is the same exact kind. He knows exactly what you’ll taste like, and that doesn’t help his daydreaming one bit. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought of that since the first one you lost back when he was in middle school.

“Shut up. Don’t you have someone else to bother?” He pushes Chan with his shoulder slightly. Not enough to hurt either of them, but enough to pull a hearty laugh from Chan.

“Nope.” Chan turns his body to face Minho’s side. Sitting cross-legged, he sets his elbows on his knees, leaning his head into his hands. A teasing smile finds its way to his lips. “What do you think your soulmate is like?”

A little bit like him, he hopes. At least someone who can understand his humor and doesn’t get irritated by his teasing. He can’t say he’s ever thought about how his soulmate looks. Looks weren’t high on his list of things he cares for in a significant other, or even a friend for that matter.

“I don’t know and I don’t care,” Minho huffs, leaning back against the mirror as much as he can. If only it could swallow him so he wouldn’t have to answer all of these questions. “Oh come on. You have some idea, right?”

“No.”

Chan’s teasing smile falls slightly. He looks at Minho curiously, trying to read the mind of his younger bandmate. Though, all he can see is the way Minho is antsy to get back to practicing with the way he’s playing with his fingers and tugging at his sweatpants.

“Not even an ideal personality?”

“Never thought about it,” Minho hums nonchalantly.

“But what ab—”

“Look. It’s not that I don’t care about my soulmate. I just never put any thought into who they are, what they look like, or whatever. They’re supposed to be like a perfect match for you, right?” Minho turns his head to look at Chan with a raised brow. Chan responds with a quiet ‘well, yeah’. “So then I’m leaving it at that. If I set expectations of my soulmate before I meet them, then I’m setting myself up for disappointment if those expectations aren’t met.”

Chan leans back, rubbing his palms on his pants. A satisfied look crosses his face. It’s one that tells Minho that that’s enough questioning—for now—and he relaxes into the floor a bit more. Chan pushes himself off the floor and reaches out his hand to help Minho up.

“And what if when you meet them, they aren’t that ‘perfect match’ for you?”

Minho shrugs. It’s something he’s thought of before. Something his parents have told him before. ‘Just because you’re soulmates doesn’t mean you need to have a romantic relationship,’ his father would say. Not even his own parents are soulmates, deciding that each of their soulmates weren’t the one for them. Yet, they love each other more than Minho can ever imagine.

“We’ll cross that bridge if we get to it.”

Your bedroom looks like a nightmare. Clothes are tossed on every surface. And yet, you still can’t find the one thing you’ve been looking for since yesterday. You’ve already looked through the rest of your apartment, and still nothing turned up. You only hoped it wasn’t already with your soulmate. You really wanted to wear that today.

Giving up on searching the confines of your room, you walk out to your living room, where your best friend sits on the couch watching a random video on the tv. You keep your eyes glued to the floor in the case that you might have just missed it when looking around yesterday.

“Heejin, have you seen my hoodie?” You ask as you venture off into the kitchen. Of course, you wouldn’t have tucked it away in one of the cupboards, but you look anyway.

“Which one?” She calls out from the couch.

“My favorite one.”

It’s silent on her end for a moment. You’re still opening and closing cabinet doors, the sound of the doors tapping against the edge of the shelves, and the shuffling of your feet, are louder than whatever is happening one room over. Sighing, you give up on looking in the kitchen. Instead, you open one of the cupboards again, pull out a bag of chips, and walk back toward the living room. That’s when Heejin decides to speak up again.

“Do you mean like the one he’s wearing?”

“What do you mean?”

Your eyes meet the tv as you come to stand behind the couch, finally noticing what she was watching. Lee Know, who is currently live and reading through comments, is wearing the exact sweatshirt you’re looking for. Well, at least you can stop your frantic searching now.

“I’m sure it’s just a coincidence,” you say.She doesn’t need to know that it is in fact yours.

You listen in to the live for a moment, and thankfully, some of the comments Lee Know is reading have the most perfect timing.

“Where did you get your hoodie? I’m not sure. I just found it in my room yesterday.”

He shrugs, not bothering to look at the camera before continuing to scroll through his phone. His thumb pauses for a moment. Even though the camera quality is utterly shit, you can still see the redness creeping up his neck and to his ears. Whatever it was he read, he didn’t say it out loud.

“No, no. I’m sure it was one of the boys. They always seem to lose something and somehow it ends up in my room.”

Heejin scoffs, drawing your attention to her. She, too, is scrolling on her phone, reading through the comments herself. And that’s when you see it too. All the questions about his soulmate or what if it was his soulmate’s sweatshirt.

“There’s no way that that’s a coincidence.” She turns her head to look at you. “Do you know something I don’t?”

You’re still reading the comments in surprise. The expression that took over your face must have given you away as she flips her body around so her knees are digging into the couch cushion. Her hands fly to the top of the couch to stabilize herself as she leans in closer to you, wide eyed and jaw dropped.

“Wait. No fucking way. How long have you known?”

You don’t bother lying to her again. She was bound to find out at some point, and that some point just so happens to be right now. Walking around the couch to sit beside Heejin, you sigh quietly.

“That it was him? About a year after their debut. But it’s been like this for as long as I can remember.”

“How did you even find out?”

You let out a breathy laugh, dropping your gaze to where your fingers are playing with the hem of your sweatpants.

Shrugging, you tell her, “Well, I’ve been a fan of them since pre-debut—”

“And you didn’t tell me!?”

Her hands land a little too harshly on your leg closest to her. The shocked look on her face never having left from your initial revelation.

“You probably would have freaked out more than you are right now. You’ve been trying to drag me into the k-pop world for the last twelve years.”

SHINee wasn’t just a phase for her. Neither was [group1] or [group2] or even [group3]. You realized that when she started showing you more and more music videos of different groups and soloists just to see your reaction. Little did she know that she got you hooked pretty early on. But you’re never going to give her that little bit of information. You’re sure she’ll hold it over your head for the foreseeable future.

“Whatever,” she huffs, crossing her arms and throwing herself back against the backrest. “We’ll discuss that later. How did you find out it was Lee Know?”

You hold up a finger, push yourself off the couch, and rush to your room. Pushing some of the clothes on your floor out of the way, you pull out the box of his ‘lost’ stuff from under your bed. You bring it back into the living room and set it on your coffee table. Heejin immediately digs through the box. “It’s kinda easy when you find something not yours with a very specific detail that would only point to one person.”

She looks back at you with raised eyebrows.

“You still have all of this?”

You nod, glancing into the box yourself.

“Yeah. I thought he might want all this stuff back at some point.”

“We have to do something. You need to meet your soulmate!”

Heejin drops the several pairs of in-ears that she took a hold of as she was swimming through the box. She turns back to you, taking your hands in hers, shaking them in excitement.

“And how are you going to make that happen, huh? It’s not like you can make a sign for a concert and he’ll believe it. I’m sure hundreds of people have tried that.”

“Are you kidding me? You don’t think I know that?” She scoffs.

You shrug, leaning back into the backrest of the couch.

“Just saying.”

Heejin thinks for a moment. She hums to herself, meets your eyes, and sends you the most concerning smirk you’ve ever seen on her face.

“I’ll figure out something. Just you wait.”

“Whatever.”

You shake her hands off you and reach for the remote. You need to change what you’re watching before she can get any more ideas.

“Hyung? Have you seen my phone?”

Another concert day, and another thing lost. How could he have let this happen? He swore he left it sitting on the makeup counter connected to the charger. But the more he looks, the more he hopes what happened didn’t happen.

“Nope.”

Minho turns away from the counter, and stomps up to the four boys sprawled across the two sofas in the green room. He’s only using this as a last resort to keep him from losing his sanity. Hyunjin is the only one that looks up from his own phone at Minho, making direct eye contact with him.

“Alright. Which one of you hooligans took my phone?”

While the question was directed at all four boys, Minho holds eye contact with Hyunjin.

“Why are you looking at me? I didn’t take it!”

“Why do you always think it’s one of us?” Seungmin speaks up, sparing a quick glance up at Minho.

“Why wouldn’t I think it was one of you?”

Felix sighs. He sets his phone in his lap.

“You always ask us, but we all know that once you’ve misplaced it–poof–it’s gone.” His added hand gestures to the ‘poof’ he lets out doesn’t make Minho feel any better about his predicament. “It’s probably with your soulmate by now.”

Felix shrugs and focuses back on his phone, continuing to scroll.

“He’s got a point,” Changbin points out. “When was the last time you saw your phone?”

“A few minutes ago. I had it right here.”

Minho holds up his hand. Obviously he was using it right before he ‘lost’ it. Changbin only sighs, sitting up from his position laying on Hyunjin’s lap.

“And then what did you do?”

“I set it down on the makeup counter and went to the bathroom,” Minho answers confidently.

Changbin peaks around him to look at the counter. It’s a little disorganized with how many makeup and hair supplies are spread across it, he notices. No wonder why Minho can’t find his phone.

“And it wasn’t there when you came back?”

“If it was there when I got back I wouldn't be asking about it, would I?”

“Alright, alright,” Chan intervenes, grabbing a hold of Minho’s shoulders before he can do anything—if he was going to do something. “Maybe one of the managers grabbed it.”

Minho’s shoulders deflate slightly. He glances over to where their managers are seated, absorbed in their own conversations.

“Maybe.”

Chan watches as Minho walks over to them, scratches at the back of his neck, shoulders deflating even more, and drags his feet back over to where Chan is standing. “They didn’t have it?”

Minho shakes his head.

The green room door flies open, startling several of the members and some of the staff.

“Show starts in twenty!”

Once the door closes, everyone begins to get ready. A few of the makeup artists take hold of a couple members to begin their makeup or touch up on what’s already been done. Others head straight for the costuming racks to grab the extra pieces for their looks. Chan, before he can be pulled into one of the chairs at the counter, pats Minho’s shoulder.

“How about we call your phone after the show is over, yeah? If your soulmate has it, maybe they’ll answer?”

Minho sighs, tempted to rub at his face if it weren’t for the makeup he already has on.

“Yeah, I guess.”

He, too, walks over to the racks to grab his jacket.

You were getting ready to settle into your couch to binge watch your favorite show for the eighth time—after a long day of working it was a much needed rest—when you noticed it. You thought it was yours, thinking you just left it on the coffee table before you wrapped yourself in a blanket, but once you sat down, feeling the one in the pocket of your sweatpants, you knew exactly who’s it was. You grab his phone from the table. The cat stickers on the back have faded completely, only leaving the shapes of the furry animals behind. And while you don’t want to be too nosey, for the sake of his own privacy, you turn on his phone to see his lock screen. That’s one angle of Hyunjin’s face that you’d never think you’d see, you think. No wonder why they blur the photos they take of each other in their SKZ-Talker episodes.

Then, your worst nightmare. It starts ringing. You hadn’t even had a chance to look at the caller ID before you flung it to the other side of the couch in surprise.

“Oh my god. What do I do?”

The ringing eventually stops, letting you relax for a moment. Though, the silence in the room doesn’t last long as not even a minute after does it start ringing again. Reaching out for the device, you finally take a look at who’s calling. You chuckle. Incoming Call from The Wolfman [emoji], it reads. Bang Chan’s face takes over the background of the screen. You take a breath. It’s probably better for you to answer it. You’re sure by now that Lee Know is looking for his phone, especially when you’re not sure how long it’s been sitting on your coffee table. You lift your hand, pressing the screen to answer, and lift it to your ear.

“Hello?”

A quick gasp comes out from the other end of the line. Some shuffling happens before you can hear muffled voices.

“Hyung, we didn’t think this far. What do I even say?”

“Give it to me,” another voice, sounding slightly annoyed you note, answers.

“Hello?” You repeat. Maybe now you can figure out what to do.

“Hi! You must be my friend’s soulmate, yeah?”

You recognise the voice very quickly. There’s something about Bang Chan’s tone that throws you off a little, but you brush that thought aside.

“Considering that this phone just appeared on my coffee table and it isn’t mine, I’d think it’s probably safe to say yes,” you giggle lightly.

Someone laughs loudly, you’re sure it’s Changbin, but you can’t tell for sure.

“We told you!”

“Whatever.”

Bang Chan sighs into the speaker.

“Okay, well, uhm. Due to certain circumstances, we’re going to need his phone back as soon as possible.”

Certain? As in you’re in an idol group who has such a busy life, that’s also about to leave the country in a week?

“And how do you want me to do that?”

“Oh, uh, can you just lose it again? I mean, that would be the quickest way to do it, right?”

It was your turn to sigh. If it were that easy, you would have done it a long time ago.

“It doesn’t work like that—” “It’s not that easy—”

“Well, we need to figure something out,” Bang Chan grumbles.

He’s stressed and you can tell. Whether it’s about the whole phone situation or a combination of a few different things, you’re not sure of. You think for a moment, but only one possible solution comes to mind. While it may not be the best idea, it’s all you’ve got at the moment.

“Can’t we just meet up and I can give it to you or whoever?” You wonder.

“Ah, well—”

Another shuffle from their end.

“They’re gonna need to know at some point.”

“Even if they’re your soulmate, we still have to be careful.”

You shift your position on the couch. Setting your feet on the floor, you unwrap yourself a little from the cocoon you had created earlier. You rest your elbows on your knees, bringing your free hand up to rub at your face.

“Look,” you sigh out. “If you want to not bring any attention to yourselves, you can just have one of your managers meet with me.” “Managers?”

You physically recoil. Curse you and your stupid mouth. Why couldn’t you think before you said that out loud.

“Shit. Uh—”

“You know who we are?” It’s Lee Know this time. His voice is strangely high, likely from the pure shock from what you said.

You clear your throat. Suddenly the couch doesn’t feel so comfortable anymore.

“Uh, yeah. If it’s making you guys uncomfortable, we can just like—I don’t know—forget I said anything?”

“No!” he yells. It takes him a moment to speak up again, but this time his voice is much softer. Much more quiet. “No, it’s okay. I’m actually glad. Saves us the trouble of explaining anything to you.”

Your shoulders relax. You didn’t even realize they were so tense.

“Oh, okay. Good.”

“So about meeting up…”

“Aren’t you guys on a tour right now?” you ask, knowing that it could be hectic to try to get him phone back.

“Yeah. But we’re back in Korea for a few stops before we leave the country again. Assuming that you’re here too, that is.”

You let out a small ‘oh’ before nodding.

“I am. I live in Goyang.”

“Okay, perfect. Can I get your number?”

Maybe it’s the previously conceived tension or maybe you’re already feeling comfortable enough to joke around, but your mouth once again has a mind of its own. You giggle, a girlish giggle—one that makes you already want to gag.

“We haven’t even met and you’re already hitting on me?”

It’s quiet for a moment. You’re only met with the sound of two other members laughing in the background.

“Look how red he is!”

“They must have embarrassed him already.”

“Alright, you two. Let’s leave him alone. Out.”

Lee Know clears his throat.

“Sorry about them. They don’t know when to mind their own business.”

“I can tell,” you chuckle.

“But about your number. It’ll just be easier to contact you on your phone rather than mine about when and where to meet.”

“I know,” you hum, settling back into your cocoon of a blanket.

“Thank you…”

“Y/N. My name’s Y/N.”

“Y/N.” You love the way your name rolls off his tongue. And with the way he whispered, not necessarily for you to hear but you did anyways, it sends goosebumps up your arms. “I’ll text you, okay?”

“I’ll be waiting.” It’s Lee Know’s turn to laugh at you. That’s when you notice how flirty you sound all of a sudden. “Not in the weird way though! I mean, that—you know what, never mind. I’m going now.”

Ending the call, not bothering to say your goodbyes, you sink back into the crevices of your couch to hide as much as you can. It was your first conversation with him and you’re already throwing yourself into the grave you dug yourself.

“Ooo! Where are you going dressed up like that?”

Your eyes threaten to pop out of your skull at the sound of Heejin’s voice. Whipping your head towards the direction it came from, you notice she’s perched up on one of your barstools. A wide smirk is plastered on her face as she looks you up and down. You’re not wearing anything too fancy, but it’s definitely not what you wear on a day-to-day basis, so you can sort of see where she’s coming from.

“When did you get here?”

She shrugs.

“Ten minutes ago.”

“And you didn’t bother to tell me?”

The smirk drops to a pout. Another one to add to the list of times she looks like a puppy. You’re sure she was a puppy in her last life, even though she denies it every time you mention it.

“Did we not have plans tonight? I thought we talked about doing a movie marathon.”

“Shit,” you groan. “I totally forgot about that. Can we raincheck?”

Heejin thinks for a moment, tapping her finger against her chin. She eventually drops her hand, and replaces the small pout into the biggest shit-eating grin you’ve ever seen her make.

“Only if you tell me what you’re doing tonight.”

You sigh, nodding. Anything to get you out the door faster.

“You have to promise me you won’t freak out.”

“Just spit it out already,” Heejin whines.

“I’m meeting Lee Know.”

Her jaw is practically through the floor. She slams her hands on your counter in excitement before she jumps off the stool to smack your arms, too.

“NO FUCKING WAY! HOW DID THIS HAPPEN?”

“Okay, ow.” You pout, rubbing at the spot she hit.

Heejin grabs your hands. She stares directly at your face, leaning in closer with every question she asks.

“Since when was this a plan? How did you even make this happen? Does he already know you’re soulmates? Does he know that you know who he is? Can I—”

“Slow down!” You have to pull your hands out from hers to push her back enough so she doesn’t accidentally kiss you with how close she got. “Long story short, he lost his phone, it ended up with me, we talked and worked it out, and now I’m going to meet him to give it back.”

You speak as fast as you can. If you don’t leave now, she’ll hold you hostage until she can squeeze any and all information about what happened out of you.

“Damn. There goes my plan.” She kisses her teeth.

“You actually made a plan?”

Heejin steps back a little, shrugs, and makes her way back to the barstool.

“Well, not yet. But I was going to! I was just stuck trying to figure out how I was going to get you into the company building without it looking sus.”

You smack your hand against your face.

“Oh my god. You aren’t serious are you?”

“That was Plan-A,” she notes. “Plan-B was to get backstage passes.”

You shake your head. Walking away from the kitchen, you make your way to your front door. Any minute more and you think you’re going to go insane.

“I’m just gonna leave now. Feel free to raid my kitchen I guess. And please lock the door when you leave.”

You can still see her from where you are. Or at least you can see the hand she’s waving towards you.

“Yeah, yeah. Get out of here and go get your man!”

With a final laugh coming from you, you throw yourself out the door.

The walk to the park you and Lee Know decided on felt like it was taking forever. Is it because of the sudden nervousness you feel? You’re not sure. But you’re only hoping that you aren’t making him wait. There’s nothing that irks you more than having to wait for someone who’s late to events and plans. Luckily, by the time you’re walking up to the swingset, you see a familiar figure approach you from the other side of the playground.

“Y/N?”

You smile. Lee Know stands right in front of you. He’s close enough that you can see him well, but far enough away that you hope he can’t hear the drumming of your heart. You’re a little surprised he isn’t covered head to toe to hide his identity. The only things obscuring his face is the baseball cap and the hood of his hoodie.

“Hi.”

You take the moment of silence to really take in his features. The camera doesn’t do his beauty justice. And you’re sure it’s the same way for the other members, too. From the way he is quiet too, you can tell that he’s doing the same to you. Your knees begin to feel weak when you notice his gaze lingering in the general area of your lips.

“So—” “Do you—”

Thank god it was already dark outside. The heat you feel creeping up your face would probably give your own nervousness away.

“Sorry. You go ahead,” you quickly say.

“No, no. What were you going to say?”

You drop your gaze to the ground. What happened to feeling so confident over the phone with him to now?

“I, uh. Do you want to go grab some food? There’s a spot a few blocks down that I think you’ll like.” You point back towards the direction of your apartment. There’s a local spot that you and Heejin frequent when you feel like you need a late night meal. But you only now think about just how late it is. Surely he would have a pretty early schedule. “That’s if you have time! I understand if you don’t. Your schedule must be crazy as is. You don’t need to—”

“Sure. I’d like that.”

The soft smile that takes over his face instantly melts you. You’re not sure how you’re still standing. If this is how you’re feeling already, you can’t imagine how it will be if you decide to be in a relationship.

Lee Know walks beside you as you guide him down the sidewalk. He’s close enough to you that you can feel his arm brush against yours with every step you take. You just wish it wasn’t the first time you were meeting him. Maybe then you could have held hands like you’re already desperately wanting to. When he brushes his pinky up against yours, that’s when you remember the reason why you met in the first place. It’s definitely not the nerves that you’re currently feeling that sent the electric jolt up your arm when he did. You keep the arm beside him down as you reach for his phone. His knuckles are now touching yours. You have to keep your cool.

“Oh. Here’s your phone by the way.”

Lee Know smiles at you as you hand over the device.

“Thanks.” He tucks it away in his pocket before clearing his throat. “So…”

“So?”

“Is it weird for me to ask how long you’ve known?”

“About what?” you hum.

He looks around for a second, supposedly looking for anyone who might recognize him. Though, you’re not completely sure why. The street is practically dead. There’s only been two cars that have passed by the two of you in the time you started walking.

“Who I am? That we’re soulmates? Anything?”

You let out a quiet ‘ah’. A few breathy laughs leave you before you respond with your own questions.

“Would it be weird for me to answer that I’ve known about you guys since pre-debut? That I knew we were soulmates a year into your career?”

Lee Know pauses in his stride. His head turns to face you, a slightly shocked face gracing his features.

“You’ve known for that long and you’re not freaking out?”

“Oh trust me. My heart is pounding. I just figured you wouldn’t want me to act like some of those crazy fans and sasaengs.”

“Yeah, I appreciate that,” he hums, nodding. He leans over slightly, bumping his arm against yours. He whispers. “Mine is too, if you wanted to know.”

The two of you hold eye contact for a moment before he clears his throat and leans back again. He tilts his head in the direction you’re headed, and you both are walking again. The air between you feels much more comfortable than it did ten minutes ago. It’s only time until you know for sure how you feel about him.

You shut your door behind you, sighing happily.

“So? How’d it go? I see you didn’t bring him home with you.”

She’s got to stop doing that. Your head whips around to find Heejin getting set up to sleep on your couch.

“Holy hell, Heejin. Why are you still here?”

She shrugs, dropping the blanket she has in her hands on the couch before bounding up to you.

“I was a little too lazy to drive back home. Plus I wanted to know what happened!”

You step back slightly.

“Well, for your information, it was nice. And of course I didn’t bring him home! Are you crazy? I just met him!”

Because of how late it is, and how thin your apartment walls are, you whisper yell as hard as you can. What does she think this is? A movie? And you’re the main character? Don’t you wish sometimes.

“I know that. Obviously.” She rolls her eyes, almost comically. “But, like, you didn’t feel that spark? Did you at least kiss?”

You brush past her to make your way to your bedroom.

“This isn’t like all those romcoms you watch. You don’t magically fall in love with each other the moment you meet.”

Heejin playfully stomps behind you with a whine.

“You’re no fun.”

“Says the one who has yet to meet her own soulmate still.” You turn to look at her pointedly.

“Oh come on! You just met yours!”

With a sarcastic smile and a wink sent in her direction, you step into your bedroom, shutting the door.

“Exactly! I’m going to bed. Good night.”

Minho is antsy. Or at least that’s what the shaking leg and the constant turning his phone on and off tells Chan. When it happens for the tenth time since he sat down beside Minho, he decides to speak up. When he let him come hang out in his studio until they had to leave for the concert, he didn’t think that this is how things would go.

“Are you going to text them? Or are you just going to stare at your phone all day?”

Minho shoves his phone under his non-shaking leg.

“I wasn’t waiting for a text,” he mumbles. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Chan can only laugh at the predicament the younger member is finding himself in. The way he’s acting is such a different look on him that Chan almost can’t tell that this is the same member that seems so confident and cocky. Or even the same member who co-wrote Drive with him.

“I didn’t say anything about you waiting for a text.”

“Whatever,” Minho mumbles.

“Have you even messaged them yet?”

Chan doesn’t even have to look at Minho to know what the answer is.

“Well, yeah.”

“I meant on your own phone.”

“Fuck. No,” he breaths out.

“It’s been how many days since you met up?” He watches as Minho deflates in his seat. He doesn’t spare a single glance towards his leader, opting for silence as a confirmation that it’s been way too long since he’s said anything to you. “We’ve got mic check in a few hours, but maybe we can talk to management to have them come to the show.” Minho seems to perk up at that. Chan sends a quick text to their manager. When he receives an answer, not even a minute later, he flips his screen so Minho can see. ‘Just as long as they don’t cause trouble, I don’t see why not.’ he reads. “You better text them then.”

Just as quick as he shoved it under his leg, Minho pulls his phone back out again. Chan chuckles, standing up to sit at his desk again, leaving Minho to make conversation with you.

M: Hey. It’s Minho. Y: Minho? As in Lee Minho? The love of my life and amazing actor Lee Minho? M: ... Y: I was kidding 😅 M: Goodbye. Y: No! Wait! I’m sorry! M: hmm… i’ll forgive you on one condition Y: and what is that? M: that you come see our show tonight Y: i would love to but M: but? Y: i promised my best friend that we would do our monthly movie marathon tonight… M: oh M: hold on M: you can bring her as well Y: are you sure you want to do that? She can be a little… much… sometimes M: she’s not going to jump us the moment we bring you backstage, right? Y: she does have SOME decency left in her M: the children probably won’t mind Y: 😊 alright. I’m sure she’ll be more excited about this anyway M: i’ll send the information over

If it wasn’t for Chan still being in the room, he would have kicked his legs out of pure excitement. From the sound of Minho’s happy hum, Chan can tell that all went well, yet he still wants to ask.

“Are they coming?”

“Yeah.”

Chan sees the way Minho dreamily stares off into the distance. He hopes that once he finds his own soulmate, he doesn’t act as cheesy as the younger is. Though, he knows that that won’t be possible.

“Just keep it in your pants when you see them, yeah?”

Minho rolls his eyes, sinking further into the sofa.

“Fuck off.”

Chan lets out a hearty laugh, turning back to his soundboard and computer.

The moment Heejin stepped into your apartment, you took her by the arm. You at least gave her a second to set the bags she brought down on your kitchen table. She is surprised by your sudden ‘attack’, as she calls is, that she doesn’t even have a moment to gather her thoughts.

“Where are we going? I thought we were going to do our marathon? I even brought the good stuff!”

She reaches back towards the table to pull one of the bottles of alcohol she brought. But you’re quick enough to get her away from the table and closer to the front door.

“Don’t you dare touch that bottle.”

“Oh come on,” she whines as she slips her shoes back on. “Why won’t you tell me?”

You shake your head. Grabbing your keys, you open the door and usher her out of your apartment. “You’ll see soon enough.”

Throughout the entire drive, Heejin is asking questions. You are finally able to get her to stop when you turned up the volume on the radio and tuned in to the station you know she likes. Mainly because it’s k-pop everyday, all day.

The second you turn into the parking lot of the arena Stray Kids is performing in tonight, Heejin’s body leeches forward. You glance at her, noticing the starry-eyed look she’s giving the venue, before rolling down your window and showing your staff parking pass to the attendant. They didn’t have to know that you weren’t actually staff. It just so happened to be the better parking as it was much closer to where you are going to go in.

“Isn’t this where— Is this why you told me to look nice?” You give her a curt nod before walking towards the entrance you remember Minho telling you to go through. “How did you manage to get tickets?”

You begin to walk in the opposite direction Heejin starts to head in, thinking that you’ll be joining the growing crowd outside the front entrances. You tug on her arm silently to pull her in the right direction.

“Wait, isn’t the entrance over there?”

“Stop with the questions already. Just be patient,” you mumble. You have to pull your phone out to reread what Minho sent you, scanning the area, and finally finding the right door.

“You know there’s not a single patient bone in my body.”

The bodyguard looks you both up and down, then back at the pass on your phone. He nods once and opens the door for you. Another member of the staff, one of their managers if you remember reading Minho’s text correctly, is already waiting for you inside. He takes a silent lead, guiding you and Heejin to what you believe is their waiting room. You can already hear the excited chatter of fans, through the walls, that have already made their way inside the building. So this is how it feels.

The manager stops in front of a simple metal door. He swings it open, stepping aside to let you and Heejin in first.

“No fucking way.”

Heejin is glued to her spot just inside the room. She watches as I.N and Felix run past the two of you before Felix practically tackles the younger to the ground in a fit of laughter. You huff out a laugh at her reaction. Scanning the room, you look for the one person you came here for.

Tucked away in the farthest corner of the room, Minho sits on a futon, scrolling through his phone. Your heart begins to race as you walk over to where he is. The moment you stop in front of him, he looks up at you. A smile begins to creep up his cheeks at the sight of you.

“Hi,” Minho starts.

“Hi.”

“You made it.”

You send him a soft smile. He pats the spot beside him. Though, he doesn’t realize just how small the seat is until you’re squished beside him.

“Yeah, I did.”

Your arm brushes against his as you try to make yourself comfortable.

“Ooo, look! Lee Know’s getting red again!”

Felix, even from all the way across the room, notices the sudden tension between the two of you.

“Shut it, Goldilocks,” Minho grumbles back at him.

It takes a moment before Minho can speak again. You only hope that the speechlessness from him is a good thing.

“So…”

“So,” you repeat.

The boy beside you sighs.

“I’m sorry it took so long for me to text you.”

You shake your head. Tapping his leg with your hand, you smile at him.

“That’s okay. I know you guys are busy, what with your tour and all.”

“Well…”

He can’t even look at you. You playfully gasp.

“Don’t tell me that you were nervous.”

Minho folds his arms in front of his chest. He sits back into the futon, crossing one leg over the other.

“Me? Nervous? Pft. Don’t be silly. I perform for a living. I don’t get nervous.”

“Sure you don’t,” you hum, mirroring the position he’s in.

He shoots you a side-eyed glance, a smirk playing at his lips.

“Want me to prove it?”

“How are you going to do that?”

The last thing you were expecting him to do is lean in so close that his nose almost touches yours. You’re surprised by your own ability to stand your ground, keeping yourself from jumping back at the sudden proximity.

“If I don’t come across as nervous to you on stage tonight, I’ll treat you to dinner after.”

“And if you do?”

The smirk grows.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Cocky, are we?” you laugh.

Minho shrugs, pulling back a little. Not enough to go back to where he was before, but enough to let you have a little more room to breathe. You definitely needed it in order to stop your fluttering heart from bursting out your chest. He then sends you a wink.

“Maybe.”

“Lee Know, I need you in the chair.”

Minho’s smirk sinks into a playful pout. Just when the conversation really gets going does he have to continue his job and make sure he’s ready for the performance. You chuckle quietly, tilting your head to gesture towards the makeup counter.

“Go on. I’ll still be here.”

You are still there, but Minho definitely isn’t. The moment he was finished with makeup, one of the hair stylists started working on his hair, just as he was about to walk back over to you. Then came the wardrobe. You could see the longing gaze in his eyes when he looked over at you as staff were messing around with their outfit. You sent him a soft smile, which he returned. Eventually, he never got a chance to come back and sit with you again as the show was going to start soon. One thing after another kept coming up, and finally, he just gave up.

The moment he walks up to the table with their mics, you can tell something is wrong. His hand and eyes frantically scan the table.

“I swear if you lost your in-ears again,” his manager sighs.

You sit up straight. Minho lost them. You’re his soulmate. You just hope that—perfect. They’re right beside you, under the hand that you had on the cushion. Pushing yourself up, you quickly make your way to stand beside Minho.

“Looking for these?”

Minho turns to look at you. You hold up your hand, presenting his in-ears to both him and his manager. Minho sighs in relief, his shoulders dropping at the sight of them.

“You’re a lifesaver.”

“Are you his soulmate?” The manager asks, pointing at you.

Minho smiles, wrapping his arm around you, and pulls you closer to him. So much for your composure.

“Yes they are.”

The manager nods, turning away to focus on the other, more energetic boys.

“About damn time,” he mumbles.

Minho lets go of your shoulder, much to your dismay, to feed the wire under his jacket.

“You just saved my ass.”

“I think your ass needs to be saved from the leather skinny pants they always put you guys in. But that’s a whole ‘nother issue,” you laugh out.

He leans in a little closer. His eyebrows lift playfully as another smirk appears on his face.

“You could solve that problem for me pretty easily.”

“Oh my god,” you scoff. You push him away slightly, noticing the look on the leader’s face behind him. “Just go. Bang Chan looks like he’s about to combust in excitement before he can get the chance to pull you into the group circle.”

Minho nods. Though, he doesn’t walk away just yet. He steps closer to you, leaning in even more. His lips brush against the shell of your ear when he speaks.

“Watch me and only me tonight.”

A shiver runs up your spine at the sound of his deepened voice. You can feel the heat rising to your cheeks, watching as he twists around and joins the rest of his group, as if he hadn’t just made your knees go weak.

A hand suddenly grabs your wrist making you jump slightly. Heejin looks at you with an excited smile.

“You ready?”

You clear your throat, mentally shaking your head to rid your mind of the thoughts that started flowing in.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m ready.”

Insane was an understatement. You had been to concerts before, but none of them compared to the crowd’s energy here. It made your heart happy to see how far they have come since their pre-debut days. You knew you were in for a treat the moment the crowd roared into cheers as they started their first song, growing even louder once they appeared on stage. Cameras definitely did not do them justice. You and Heejin were lucky enough to get spots pretty close to the stage. Not right at the barrier, but close enough that if they were to try to spot you in the crowd, they wouldn’t have much trouble.

Minho, for the majority of the concert, favored the side you and Heejin were at. He would throw you flying kisses and winks, interact with stays around you, and show you exactly what you’d be getting yourself into if you are to get into a relationship. And just like he said, he showed no signs of nervousness. It was as if he was made specifically to perform on stage. You can’t wait to get to know your soulmate better.

Minho sends you one last wink before they all exit off the stage for the last time. And as the crowd begins to disperse, several people staying behind hoping to catch one last glimpse of the boys before walking towards the exits themselves. You take Heejin by the arm, hooking hers around yours. You both make your way back to the hallway where you were guided through to get to the main seating area. As soon as you walk back into the green room, Minho is taking you by the hand and pulling you to a more secluded area. Not that there was a more private place in the room. Staff and the rest of his members are walking every which way around the room, hustling to get it packed up and out of the building as soon as possible.

“What’s the verdict?” Minho asks.

You look at him confused. The one thing that Minho wanted you to find out had barely even crossed your mind.

“On what?”

He pulls you in a little closer. His nose barely brushes against yours as he clarifies.

“Did I look nervous to you at all?”

“God, no,” you whisper.

If anything, you looked hot as hell up on that stage, is what you wanted to say. But you can’t will yourself to say it.

“That’s what I thought. Guess you’ll have to have dinner with me tonight.” The smirk on his face says it all. He’s cocky about it, only because he knows he was always going to be right.

You look around, noticing that most everyone has already left the room. A couple staff members, and one of their managers are still here. The manager quietly watches the two of you, making you worried.

“Are you sure that it’s okay for tonight? You don’t have anything else you need to do?”

“Mmhmm,” Minho nods. “Everything is done for the night. Unless you don’t want to?”

You hold up your hands in front of you, waving them slightly.

“No!” You wince from the volume of your voice. Clearing your throat you continue. “No, I’d love to. I just—”

“If I wasn’t free, I wouldn’t have offered.”

You hummed.

“Well, technically you didn’t offer. You made a bet,” you point out.

“Touche,” Minho laughs. He holds out his hand for you to take. “Shall we?”

You grab his hand, smiling at him when he fiddles with your fingers. That’s when you remember you weren’t alone when you got here. You search around for your best friend as you walk out the door.

“Wait. Where’s Heejin?”

“I convinced Channie hyung and our manager to take her home.”

Now that you’re thinking about it, that’s why she had taken your car key before the concert started. You smile at Minho, letting him lead the way out of the building.

“So then, I walk in, and Hyunjin is up on the counter, broom in his hand, and almost to the point of sobbing. I had to trap it for him and get rid of it before he ever got off the counter.”

“Oh my god.”

Who knew Hyunjin could be so afraid of a tiny mouse in the dorm. Though, you couldn’t blame him. You’d probably act almost the same way.

As he pulls up to your apartment building, you don’t want the night to end. The two of you really clicked. There are more things in common between you than you ever would have thought, and you only wish to get to know this side of him even more. Minho parks, turns off his car, and tells you to wait before he gets out and rushes over to your side. He holds his hand out to help you out of his car, and you take it, letting him thread his fingers between yours as you guide him to your apartment.

There isn’t any word spoken between the two of you until you make it to your door. You turn to him, hand still in his. You have no intention of letting go any time soon.

“So,” you breathe out, deciding to break the silence.

“So?”

“Thank you for tonight, Minho. I really had a good time.”

He smiles softly. You mirror his expression.

“Yeah. Me, too.”

With a sigh, you slowly let go of his hand. You still have to get your key out, but you try to prolong walking into your apartment to be in his presence for as long as possible.

“Talk to you tomorrow?” you ask.

Minho nods.

“Definitely.”

He watches as you unlock your door. You push it open, taking your key out before you forget—you once left it in the door overnight after a long day of work, and were about to lose your mind the next morning when you couldn’t find it. One step. Two steps. He feels it too, right?

“Y/N, wait,” Minho calls out.

He catches your hand before you can make it fully into your apartment. He carefully steps closer to you, trying to read your reaction. When his nose finally brushes against yours, he looks at you for your approval. A slight nod.

His lips are on yours.

Neither of you move for a moment, trying to bask in the feeling of your closeness. Minho pulls away slowly after a minute or so. Though, you don’t let him get far, pulling him in by his collar for another kiss. His hands fly to your head. One gently holds your cheek while he presses the other against the back of your head to pull you in even closer. His lips dance with yours. Your hands are grabbing at him. You pull him into your apartment as best as you can without stumbling over. Minho kicks the door closed behind him, drops his hands to your waist, and tugs on the waistband of your pants. You waste no time helping him lift yourself up to wrap your legs around his waist. You speak the directions to your bedroom against his lips.

It isn’t until the morning sun peaks through your curtains that you finally wake. The warmth of your comforter makes you snuggle into the sheets more. You pat your hand around the other side of the bed, only to come up empty with your search. Minho isn’t where you thought he was. The sheets are thrown around and the pillow still has the crease where he would have been laying, telling you that last night wasn’t just a dream that you had. You pout, wanting to have woken up beside him, to talk to him about what happens next. A few different thoughts run through your head. You have to physically shake yourself of them. He’s probably just in the bathroom or in the kitchen, you reason. Especially considering that he didn’t leave a note for you.

You roll to the edge of your bed, grabbing your underwear and shirt from off the floor. You put them on, taking your phone from the bedside table, and turn it on. No texts from him either. Shuffling your feet, you walk out of your room. The bathroom door is wide open. The light is turned off. Your eyes drift towards the kitchen. You can’t see much from where you stand, but as you walk closer you can tell that no one is there either. Frowning, you spin around.

“Minho?”

No response.

Oh.

“Where were you? You’re never up this early.”

Minho jumps at the sound of Seungmin’s voice. He thought he was being quiet enough trying to get back into the dorm.Though, the younger just so happened to be walking out of the kitchen with a steaming cup. Since when did he get up this early?

“I just, uh, went to the gym.”

Seungmin looks him up and down. He stares at Minho quizzically.

“In the clothes you wore yesterday?”

“I was a little too lazy to change after getting home and getting up this morning,” Minho quickly explains.

Such a great lie, Minho. Why don’t you tell him that you’re going to the moon while you’re at it.

“Alright…” Seungmin begins to walk away, but then remembers something, pausing in his stride. “Well don’t forget that we have our flight to Bangkok tonight.”

“Yeah, I remember.” Minho waves him off.

Why does he have to make things so difficult for himself?

Heejin plops down enthusiastically on the beanbag beside your desk. She looks at you expectantly.

“So how was your date?”

You shrug, keeping your focus on your laptop.

“It was fine.” “Just fine? The way you were interacting with each other made it seem like there was going to be an afterparty, if you know what I mean.”

Oh you know what she means, alright. And while it’s true, you really don’t want to think of what happened after the ‘afterparty’. You groan, deleting the last paragraph of text you wrote. Stupid work and its stupid deadlines.

“I’m not really in the mood to talk about it,” you mumble.

“Did something happen? You know you can tell me. I’ll beat the shit outta him if he hurt you.”

You huff out a half-assed laugh, glancing over to her.

“And how are you going to do that to someone who’s halfway across the world right now?”

Heejin jumps up from the beanbag. Her eyes are wide.

“They already left?”

You turn back to your laptop. If you’re going to get this report finished in time, you can’t be distracted so easily.

“For someone who’s on stan twitter, I’m a little surprised you didn’t know already.” Your voice is dull. But that doesn’t completely bother her.

“Sometimes it’s hard to keep up as a multistan.” She shrugs nonchalantly. Noting that you’re much more focused on your work duties, Heejin decides to grab your chair and whip it around to face her. “So tell me what happened.”

You’re about to bite back at her, but the look she gives you tells you to try and see what happens. Your walls come crumbling down. With a sigh, you let it all out.

“I don’t even know. He took me to dinner at this nice western-style pasta place—which he had rented a private room for. We had a really good conversation to get to know each other more and talk about what would probably have to happen if we were to become serious, he took me home, we kissed—”

“YOU KISSED?”

Heejin’s jaw is on the floor. A smirk begins to creep up on her lips.

“Yeah. And one thing lead to another, we ended up in my bed—”

“Damn!” You give her a look that says ‘do you want to know or not, because I’m about to kick you out of my house’. She sends you a sheepish smile. “Sorry.”

“When I woke up yesterday, he was gone. No note, no text, no nothing. I texted him, but haven’t heard from him since.”

All she sees is red. Her back is straight and she is staring out the window with a snarl. She quickly turns to head towards your bedroom door.

“When’s the next flight to Bangkok? Imma go slap some sense into him.”

You quickly run after her.

“Heejin, wait.” The grip you have on her arm causes Heejin to face you. Her expression softens at the sight of your own sullen expression. “Maybe I was in over my head about all of this. Maybe I took things too fast.”

Heejin flips things around. Her hands are on your shoulders as she tries to find your gaze. You won’t look at her.

“Hey, woah woah woah. What we’re not going to do is blame ourselves for what’s already happened. You obviously felt something, and he did too. It’s not your fault that he was gone in the morning. Maybe he had a schedule that morning and wasn’t thinking through everything. Who knows. Although, whatever reason he has for not responding to you is fucking stupid.” That earns a quiet laugh from you. “Look. Obviously we don’t know what’s going on in his head. But you’re soulmates. I’m sure he’ll come around and explain what happened. In the meantime, let’s finally get this movie marathon started!”

She doesn’t give you any more room to argue, pulling you to sit on the couch as she runs into the kitchen to grab an armful of snacks and drinks. You’re just lucky that your document is set to auto save. Who knows when you’ll be getting back to that if at all tonight.

Chan notices it. Though, anyone with eyes could see the giant elephant sitting in the room.

“Okay. What is up with you?”

Minho opens his eyes to meet Chan’s. He just wants to sleep and continue on with the tour. Not talk out his feelings with Chan.

“What do you mean? Nothing’s ‘up’ with me.”

Chan groans. He sits a little taller on his bed in their shared hotel room. There’s nowhere that Minho can escape to to leave this conversation. Even if he were to go to another pair’s room, he’d still be bombarded with questions. Everyone can tell something is going on with him.

“It’s been a week since we left and you’ve been miserable the entire time. It’s starting to show on stage and stays are noticing.” When Minho doesn’t react, Chan rubs at his face. “Look. If you miss Y/N already, I get it. Finding your soulmate during tour would be hard to manage. But if you can’t manage to control your feelings on stage, it’s going to start to affect the rest of us. I’m not trying to be mean or anything, but I’m sure you can see where I’m coming from as the leader.”

For a moment, Chan thinks that he still isn’t getting anywhere with him. Minho’s dropped his gaze from him to the sheets underneath him.

“I fucked up.”

It’s too quiet for Chan to make out, Minho knows that. But he really just hopes that Chan will let it go if he doesn’t give him what he wants to hear.

“What?”

Minho sits up. He can’t do it anymore.

“I fucked up, alright?��

“What do you mean?” Chan asks carefully.

“I may or may not have ghosted them after leaving their place the morning after.”

Silence. Chan can’t believe what he’s hearing.

“You— You left them alone, after what I’m assuming was more than just dinner, and haven’t said anything?” A small nod. “Is that why you lied that morning?”

“I panicked, okay?”

Chan stares at Minho incredulously.

“You panicked?”

“Everything felt so right that night. But when I woke up that morning, I don’t know what happened. One minute I was enjoying the moment, the next, I was out the door, and driving back to the dorms.”

When Minho shyly meets his gaze again, Chan groans.

“What am I going to do with you?” He mutters to himself. “You need to talk to them. Now.”

Standing up from his bed, Chan takes his phone, laptop, and headphones with him. He walks to the door, not waiting for a response from Minho. He has to get out of the room.

“Wait! What do I even say?”

Just before the door closes, Chan calls out to him.

“You figure it out! This is your mess to deal with!”

Minho sighs. He’s right. This is all his fault and he needs to do something about it. He grabs his phone, shakily pulling up your contact.

Work only distracted you so much from the mess of a situation you found yourself in. After finally turning in the report you had been working on for days, your supervisor came up to you to only tell you that it still needed more work. Of course. Nothing is actually wrong with the report—you checked it several times before sending it over. You’re just sure he hates you.

Your eyes drift to the time on your computer.

“One more hour,” you whisper to yourself.

The day couldn’t have gone by any faster.

Your phone buzzes on your desk. Thinking that it’s Heejin, wanting to know what your plans are this weekend, you flip it over to check the notifications.

M: Hey. M: I’m sorry. M: I know you probably hate…

Minho. More messages keep spilling into your notifications. The constant buzzing is sending your mind spiraling. Why did he have to message you now, all of a sudden? With an angry huff, you power off your phone completely, too frustrated with him to bother switching your phone to silent or do not disturb.

The rest of the hour is rather quiet. Nothing but the sound of keyboard keys clacking and the printer near you running as one of your coworkers stands beside it ready to collect the paper. You quickly forget about the texts that are inevitably waiting for you once you power your phone back on, and continue to work on your next assignment. The moment the clock strikes the hour, you’re pulling yourself away from your desk, grabbing your belongings, and making your way to the elevator.

“See you tomorrow.,” you call out to the rest of your department.

You wait until you get home to do anything with your phone. Who knows what emotions will run through you when you read what Minho sent. Pressing his contact in your messages, you’re not surprised to see so many texts.

M: Hey. M: I’m sorry. M: I know you probably hate me right now, which is totally understandable. I would hate me too if I were you. M: I just M: I’m sorry M: I don’t know exactly what to say. M: I would like it if I could explain to you on call. But if you don’t want to, I get it. Just please give me a chance to explain myself. M: And then you can decide what happens after that. M: Just let me know.

You take a breath. You can hear Heejin in your head. At least hear him out. You type your answer out and press send.

Y: Fine.

Your phone rings not even a minute after you send the message. Oh so now he has time for you. Wonderful.

“Y/N—”

“Explain.”

You don’t want to hear it. If you let him butter you up before he tells you what happened, you’re not sure if you can hold back on forgiving him. Curse the stupid soulmate bond between you. Minho sighs.

“Please don’t get me wrong. I actually enjoyed that night. And trust me when I say it wasn’t because of anything you did or said. It was because of my own stupidity. My own self-consciousness.”

He’s blabbering. You lean back against the backrest of your couch.

“Get to the point,” you grumble.

“I guess– I was scared. Not because of what happened. Never because of that. But because of how fast it happened and what that means for us. I didn’t want you to think that I was taking advantage of you just because I’m an idol or whatever. Everything just felt so right with you.”

“So then why did you leave? Why did it take you a fucking week to say anything?” You can hear yourself growing in anger with each word he says. If he had even cared to think of how you would have felt after that morning, then maybe things would be better already. Yet, it took him a week. A whole week to even say a single word to you.

“I can’t answer that.”

You scoff.

“You can’t? Or you won’t?”

You can hear him shuffle around before he lets out a big sigh.

“I honestly can’t. I don’t even know myself why I left. Why I didn’t answer you.”

You’re at your breaking point. What was the point of having this conversation if he couldn’t even tell you exactly why he did what he did? How can you be sure that he really means that he’s actually sorry?

“This doesn’t explain anything,” you mumble, bringing your face to your hands.

“I know,” he whispers.

“I was really hoping that we could have spent that time before you left to talk about what happened.”

“I know.”

“But now you’re halfway across the world right now and we can’t do anything about it.”

That seems to hit Minho.

“I can book you a flight to our next stop. I can get my own room and we can talk about it all. Or I can—”

“I can’t just pack up and leave, Minho. I have a job that I can’t just take days off that easily. And you can’t just fly back for a day just to talk things through, and leave again for the next few months after that. It’s just not going to work.”

You stand from the couch. You’re getting too worked up about all of this. There’s only one solution that comes to mind.

“So what are you saying?” He asks carefully.

“As much as I don’t want to do this, I think we need to wait until you’re done with the tour. It’ll be easier to talk when you’re not constantly in new countries almost everyday.”

You can practically hear the gears turning in his head. You’re sure this isn’t the response he thought he was going to get, but maybe it’s for the better. For one, you know that you need to cool off after this. Any more talk about this and you’re sure you’ll combust. But now, you both need to think if this is what you really want. Did it all feel right to you because you both were vulnerable in the moment? Is it because you both are supposed soulmates and you’re not thinking straight? You’re not sure, but in the back of your mind you really hope neither are correct. You want to make this work. You want to have that connection with him. But because of the circumstances, you can only take a step back for the moment.

“Okay. That’s what we’ll do. I promise you that the moment I come back, I’m coming to you.”

His words give you the tiniest amount of hope that everything will be okay in the end.

“I’ll be here,” you murmur. You’re careful not to speak anything into existence.

The line is silent between the two of you. Had you not heard the quiet sniffle from his side, you would have thought he already hung up. A thought comes to mind.

“Hey, Minho?”

“Yeah?” His voice is a little scratchy. Almost as if he’s on the verge of crying, or already did cry.

“Promise me one other thing.”

“Anything.”

“Do your best until the tour is over.”

Minho hums.

“Just for you.”

A small smile plays on your lips before you hang up the phone.

“Are you sure this is what you wanted?”

This is the hundredth time she’s asked you this. The moment you ended your call with Minho yesterday, you texted Heejin to come over. It was the first time in a long while since she saw you as emotional as you were. It’s been another week or so since, and both of your schedules finally lined up to where you had a few days off to spend some time with each other.

“Yes. I’m completely sure.” You reaffirm.

The show on your tv is paused as she keeps talking to you. You really just wanted to stay in and binge watch the new k-drama she recommended to you.

“Doesn’t seem like it to me. You’re clearly not doing okay.”

“I’m fine! I’ll be fine! I just gotta—”

“Y/N, it’s only been two weeks and you’re already beating yourself up for what happened.”

You look at her like she’s crazy. Can she see the puffiness of your eyes after the cry session you had last night? You tried to bring it down before she arrived, but maybe it was still bad looking.

“Pft. What?”

Heejin gives you a pointed look.

“You’ve been cooped up in your apartment, only leaving for work, barely even talking to me. You have empty containers of ice cream in your garbage, and you’ve been watching the same three soulmate rom-coms on repeat.”

How she knew that last bit of information is beyond you. Today you have finally ventured out with your watching, and she comes and attacks you.

“Okay. So maybe I’m not doing so great. But can you blame me?”

“Maybe a little.” This earns a pout and a little ‘hey’ from you. “But. I can understand where you’re coming from.”

You drop your gaze to where your hands are in your lap as you play with the loose string coming from the hem of your sweatpants.

“What do you think I should do then?”

“Stop overthinking it,” she states matter-of-factly. “You know what you want. You know what he wants. So why put yourself through all this? And if you’re not going to do anything about it right now, then at least make yourself a little more productive.”

You groan, throwing yourself back against the couch armrest.

“You’re right. I guess I just can’t help but think what if it doesn’t work out in the end. I mean he’s a kpop idol for god’s sake. It’s not like all of their fans will take lightly the situation.”

“And that’s something you can talk to him about. Now. Get up and go get ready. I’m gonna take you out.”

You quickly sit up. What is she planning on doing? Your plan was to just have a day in with her today.

“Where?”

“Just dress comfortably but cute.” She winks.

The amusement park. While you’re not fond of every ride here, at least it’ll be able to take your mind off of things for a moment.

Three weeks later and you’re still dragging yourself home after work. You really need a new job. You’re not sure if you can’t take the unnecessary berating from your ugly ass stupid supervisor. The pay is great, but is it still worth it?

The elevator dings as it reaches your floor. Making sure you still have your key on you, you step out and turn in the direction of your apartment. Though, the figure at your door throws you for a loop.

“Minho?”

He turns to look at you wide-eyed. Almost as if he wasn’t expecting you to show up at that moment.

“Hi.” He sheepishly smiles, waving at you.

Shouldn’t he still be on tour? You thought it didn’t end for another few days. Of course, you’re happy to see him here. Just like he said he would do all those weeks ago. But how is he here right now? You’re even more surprised to see that he remembered where you live.

“I thought you guys weren’t done yet.”

You unlock your door, stepping inside and aside to let him in after you.

“The tour itself is done. Everyone else wanted to stay in the states for a little longer before going home.”

“So why are you here?” you ask.

You don’t mean for it to come off sounding rude. And by the smile that begins to grow on his face, you know he didn’t take your tone of voice to heart. He would understand how you feel right now, right?

You quickly set your things down in order to take your shoes off.

“I couldn’t just have fun like the kids are knowing that there was still something that I needed to take care of.”

Neither of you have stepped farther than just inside the door. You look at Minho to see that he’s already staring at you. The emotion behind his eyes tell you everything you need to know. Yet, you still have to ask.

“And what is that?”

“This.”

Minho wastes no time in connecting his lips with yours. It’s a connection that you’ve been missing, so you let him be for a moment, basking in the rush of adrenaline you feel coursing in your veins. If your heartbeat were any faster, you’re sure it would break from your chest and finish a marathon in record time. But you can’t let this take you where you want it to take you.

“Minho,” you mutter against his lips. “Minho, wait.”

He reluctantly pulls away from you. His nose brushes yours, lips barely touching. You set your hands on his chest, just in case he tries anything again before you can sit down and talk about everything. If you want this to work out, this needs to happen first.

“There’s so much we need to talk about first.”

“Right. Sorry,” he mumbles, stepping away from you.

The loss of his warmth makes your heart sink. If all goes well, you won’t have to worry about that anymore, you think. Still, you take his hand and lead him to your couch.

“I just need to know what you think about us,” you speak after a moment trying to gather your thoughts.

Minho nods. He understands.

“I can’t exactly describe my feelings, but I know that I want to be with you. I want you to be my partner. I want to be able to tell everyone that you’re my soulmate.”

“What about the media? Stays?”

For a brief moment, it’s as if he forgets that that’s a big part of his life. You could easily fall under the limelight if you’re not careful enough. Would he even want to make this part of his life public? Sensing your worries, Minho takes your hands in his. His thumbs rub small circles on the back of your hands.

“That’s something we’ll have to talk to management about. But I want them to know when you feel comfortable. I’m not going to push you to go public with our relationship at any point.”

You think for a moment. That answers at least most of your worries. You can wait to have him answer the rest. Taking a deep breath, you nod.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

You smile at him. He smiles back at you. You lean in, placing a quick peck at the corner of his lips. He returns the sentiment, kissing your temple.

“Oh! I have something for you.”

“You do?”

You nod frantically, pushing yourself up from the couch. You hold up a finger, gesturing for him to wait there. He laughs lightly at your sudden burst of energy. You almost sprint to your room, sliding to the side of your bed. You reach for the box, pull it out, and run back to the living room. Minho is still sitting where you left him, an amused smile playing on his lips. You hand the box over to him as you sit back down, this time much closer to him. Minho gasps as he digs through the box curiously.

“You kept all of this?”

You shrug.

“Thought you might need some of this stuff back eventually.”

“Our manager will be happy to see all of these again.” He laughs as he pulls out the handful of in-ears he’s lost over the years. Turning his head to look at you, his smile widens. “I think you’ll be happy to know that I kept a lot of the stuff you lost, too.”

“Five minutes til show!”

“I need tissues. I got a bloody nose!”

“Don’t get it on your clothes, Changbin!”

You step back as the said boy runs past you to grab tissues from one of the staff members. You’ve grown accustomed to the way they run—quite literally—behind the scenes of their performances. Especially when it comes to award show season. You can tell everyone is on edge. This is one of the biggest performances of the year for them, and you can tell that they really don’t want to mess it up. Hundreds of thousands of fans are tuning in to watch the kids—and of course the other groups—perform.

“Where did I put them?”

Minho mutters frantically to himself. He pats his pockets up and down several times before you realize what is happening. You chuckle to yourself. Checking your own pockets, you notice the newest addition to your items.

“Lee Know, are you ready?” one of the managers call out.

“I just need to find—”

“Looking for these?”

You dangle his in-ears in front of his face. The look of relief takes over his body. He quickly takes them from you, trying to feed it through his clothes.

“God. What would I do without you?”

You shrug, moving to help him.

“Probably suffer under your manager’s wrath.” You pat his butt when you’re done helping him. “You gotta stop losing these.”

He turns around to smile at you.

“At least I know where I can find them now.”

“Dumbass.”

You roll your eyes.

“You love me,” he sing-songs.

“Yeah, yeah. Now get your ass over there. Chan’s ready to drag you by your ear if you don’t go now.”

Minho kisses you quickly. He leans in to brush his lips against your ear.

“Watch me and only me.”

That’s one thing you’ll never get used to. You hope he never lets go of the flirty lines he whispers to you before he leaves the room. You push him with a laugh.

“Just go!”

Just like every other performance, they do amazing as always. And this performance is no different. Though, you can tell they’re really putting their all into this one in particular. A big event like this award show calls for an equally big act. You watch from backstage with Heejin as they dance, sing, and rap with all they’ve got. The crowd is feeling their energy. You know that once they come off this stage, they’ll still be feeling that adrenaline for days on end.

They end with they’re big finish. You greet the dancers with a ‘great job out there’ as they run past you and Heejin to get back to their own green room. Finally, the boys run off, panting and patting each other wherever they can reach. Minho comes straight to you as Felix and Jisung pull Heejin back to the green room with them.

“So. How did I do my lovely soulmate?”

You smile, pretending to think hard about the performance. Minho chuckles, throwing his arm around your waist.

“Hmm… You did start to look nervous right before your trick,” you note.

“Pft. What? Me? Nervous? No way.”

You raise an eyebrow in his direction.

“You don’t have to lie.”

“And what if I happen to be telling the truth?” he questions.

You shrug nonchalantly, sending him a fake pout.

“Then I guess I won’t be taking you home to order take out and binge watch that new anime we’ve been wanting to watch together.”

Minho lets out a deep sigh.

“Oh, good. Cause I was totally lying. No matter how many times I do that trick, it always makes me nervous,” he mutters.

This earns a laugh from you.

“I could tell.”

When you get into the room, the air is buzzing with energy. Minho quickly kisses you on the cheek and runs over to get changed out of his performance outfit and back into his suit. He walks over to the couch to grab his phone. Yet, he couldn’t find it where he had placed it earlier.

“Hey wait. I could have sworn I left my phone here.”

You pull it out from behind your back, knowing that it was in your pocket since they started their performance.

“I thought you knew where to find things now?”

Minho sticks his tongue out at you playfully, taking his phone from you. He grabs your hand, and takes you back out to the idol seating area with the rest of the boys and Heejin, to watch the rest of the show.

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