Nonidol!kim Younghoon X F!reader

nonidol!kim younghoon x f!reader

neither you nor younghoon were party people, but you did find love in the convenience store down the block.

▷ genre, warnings. friends 2 lovers, mutual pining, college au, swearing, fluff, humor, comfort, reader has crowd anxiety, reader has a lot of siblings lol, mentions of math/physics/chemistry/etc sorry it was necessary for the character, kissing, puns and pick-up lines, mentions of academic stress, lots of carbs haha, drinking, guys younghoon was my first bias and im remembering why

▷ total wc. 29.3k (TUMBLR MADE ME CUT OUT SO MUCH I FKN HATE THIS HELLSITE)

this is the seventh installment of the love in unity series! this should be fine as a standalone, but there are multiple references to party people & i highly encourage u to read it!; all other yns will be referred to as _!yn. (ayc occurs DURING party people)

a/n: in an alternate world, i would still be obsessed w kim younghoon, isn't that crazy. anyways, enjoy + reblog!

EPISODE ONE (PILOT): OF ALL THE COSMIC COINCIDENCES

KIM Jungwoo's message materialized on your lock screen in a bombardment of photons: Hey, you sure you don't wanna come with us tonight? Feel free to still join :')

You slung the strap of your bag over your head and shoulders before shooting him a reply. No thanks Woo :') Appreciate it though! Have fun tonight <3.

Some of the people in the social circle you orbited were heading to the bay tonight for a bonfire rager to celebrate (read: mourning) the beginning of the new university term. Though you hadn’t seen many of the people attending tonight in a couple months, you were never much for big crowds. Plus, the start of the school year brought a whole dumpster fire of things to worry about, so taking a quiet evening with yourself would be well worth it to keep your head on straight.

With the message sent, you hauled your apartment door open and headed out into the late evening. There was a convenient store at the end of the street a couple blocks over that you had been frequenting since freshman year, and you could taste the sweet brioche buns as the store’s fluorescent lights entered your view. It was a small corner store that reminded you much of a traditional 7/11, except there was a corner inside the store where patrons could eat and chill, and the food, arguably, tasted better than alright.

(The seating area inside this place had definitely seen many of your midterm and finals grind nights. And tears. There were lots of tear stains on those tables.)

Your roommate and good friend Miyawaki Sakura often accompanied you here whenever you came to do some studying, shopping, or recreational snacking. Tonight, she was holed up in her room video chatting with some of her cousins in Japan, but most other nights she would be online playing some kind of first person shooter game.

The walk to the nearby convenience store was a short, yet familiar one. You played a song at a faded volume in your earbuds, your hands tucked into the safety of your pockets. It was a warm night out, as late summer clung onto the coattails of early autumn, leaving a strange mixture of green, red, and yellow in the trees. The streets weren’t barren—plenty of people were out and about on a Saturday night—and still, you tilted your head up to the sky to appreciate the beauty of the obsidian sky.

When you reached the end of the block, you entered into the comfortable embrace of the convenience store. It was quiet, as expected, with only the muffled sound of jazz acoustics from the overhead speakers as white noise. The latter combined with the noise from your own device made it all the easier for you to be unaware of the other people here with you.

Your mouth was already watering from the mental image of brioche, and you made a sharp swerve into the familiar bread aisle when you realized—oh, you weren’t alone.

Standing exactly where you knew the brioche buns were stationed was a tall, lanky man with a pair of earbuds hanging from his own ears, one hand examining one of the bread packages while the other was tucked away in his pocket. His dark colored bangs were shaggy and hung in his eyes, but you could’ve recognized that side profile from a mile away. You’d spent nearly half a quarter staring at it, after all—the other half was looking at his front profile and forehead, but those were just as identifiable.

For a moment you stood at the mouth of the aisle weighing your options. Did you say hello, or did you walk away and pretend you didn’t see him?

He decided for you.

Kim Younghoon glanced up from the bread after feeling your eyes on him for a considerable beat of time. He blinked once before you saw the sharp surprise in his expression melt away into soft fondness. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he chuckled, tugging his earbuds out with a charming smile. “Long time no see, Yn.”

You mirrored his actions and slipped the wires into your pocket. “Long time no see,” you agreed, returning his pleasant expression.

You met Younghoon just last year when he stumbled into the math tutoring center with his head held high and a notebook full of question marks. While your friends on shift at that time (Chanhee coaching someone through their linear algebra worksheet; Jungwoo yanking his hair follicles out with a group of freshmen over trigonometry) were busy, it was you who ultimately became Younghoon’s go-to calculus tutor. For the quarter that he took calculus, you helped the drama major through it.

Of course, finding a drama major in a calculus class was a rare occasion, but you both blamed the university’s awful general education requirement. Either way, you’d both found a friend and good company in one another. It didn’t help that he was terribly charismatic, and often filled the spaces in between long text messages about how to calculate the cross-section area of a vase with “good morning”s, “good luck on your midterm!”s, and corny STEM-themed one-liners.

Younghoon was the kind of guy people took home to meet their parents. Not… not that you ever thought about him like that. It was just what you overheard from this group of girls in the tutoring center once—

“I guess we both had the same idea tonight then,” he chuckled as you came to stand beside him to scour the shelf for your victim tonight.

You hummed. “I guess so,” you said. “I usually don’t see you in this area of the district though.” Because you definitely would have seen him. You lived around here, after all.

“Oh,” he grabbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “it’s a funny story actually. I dropped my friends off at a party and I went to the store near them and they had no good selection of bread.” He made a helpless gesture. “So I couldn’t just accept defeat, and now I’ve ended up here.”

You plucked a package of soft brioche from the shelf, then passed him an amused look. There was something unfair about how the harsh LED lights fell so lightly over his facial features. “I guess some form of cosmic coincidence brought us bread-lovers here.”

Younghoon knocked his bread package against yours like he was cheering a glass of champagne. “And might I say what excellent taste you have.”

That drew a laugh from you. “Ditto.”

He pursed his lips then, considering you. “So what social event are you dodging tonight, Miss Mastermind?” Younghoon’s eyebrows arched upwards at you, and you suddenly took on the sheepishness he had before. Though, you definitely noted that familiar nickname that followed his question. You wondered if that was still the name your contact was saved under in his phone. (If he even still had your contact information saved.)

You raised the palm of your hand up to hide half of your face from comical shame. “Now why would you just assume that I’m here because I’m avoiding a social call?”

“Yah,” he chided jokingly, “because I know you.” His eyes turned up to the ceiling for a moment before he added, “And you’re friends with Kim Jungwoo.”

“Okay, that’s fair.”

He laughed. “Gotcha.”

“And you say I'm the mastermind?” You quipped back at him, all light-hearted. When he first dubbed you with the nickname, you hadn't known what to do about it. He claimed it was because you somehow made learning calculus fun for him—some “sorcery,” as he accused back then.

“You are!” He exclaimed with excited, wide eyes. “You've hexed me with a love for math puns and acute angles,” he groaned melodramatically, clutching his chest like his heart was about to burst for added effect.

You clicked your tongue, unable to hide your amusement. “Acute angles is a new one.”

“'Cause they remind me of a-cute-ies like you,” he said with his hand shaped into a finger gun, tongue between his teeth.

Your hand went over your face again. “I forgot that you did that.”

“You missed it!”

The smile on your face couldn't even be fully covered with your hand. Maybe you did miss it—or maybe it was just him. When the quarter had wrapped up last year and Younghoon was no longer taking calculus, neither of you had any “excuse” to be around each other anymore. Though you still had his number, you always chickened out of texting him to see how he was doing or if he wanted to hang out.

In your mind, Younghoon was always too cool for you. You didn't feel like you fit into his world.

Younghoon took your hand and drew it away from your face, a slow smile filling his lips. “There she is. You missed me.”

“If you stop asking, I will pay for your bread.”

“As if I'm going to let you do that,” he shook his head. “I'll take that as a yes.”

You both began making your way over to the counter to purchase your individual pastries. You always knew Younghoon liked bread, and you shouldn't be so surprised that he drove halfway down the district just to find a specific brioche bun. It was funny and strange how the universe worked. At times you wondered if the probability of fate could be calculated—

“So it's just you tonight?” You asked him as the two of you lingered just outside the convenience store with your freshly purchased breads in hand. You had both immediately torn into your brioche as soon as you cleared the threshold, and the fluffy pastry filled your mouth and stomach with utter joy. It was buttery and sweet and soft… perfection.

Younghoon shoved the piece in his mouth into his cheek. “For the most part, yeah,” he replied, his shoulder lifting in a half shrug. “You?”

“Yeah, Kkura's at home, but she's on call with someone. Jungwoo did invite me out to that big bonfire at the bay tonight, but…” You shook your head.

His head tilted slightly. “Oh yeah I heard about that.” For a second, he didn't say anything, and then he murmured, “Crowd anxiety.”

You hummed, eyes shooting over to his. “Hm?”

“Crowd anxiety, right?” He asked with more confidence. “I—you can correct me if I'm wrong—but I just remember you mentioning something about crowd anxiety last year.”

Your chewing slowed for a moment, and a small smile curled onto your lips. “No, you got it right.” He remembered. Of course, he remembered. A warm feeling made itself comfortable in your chest.

Younghoon seemed to brighten. “Good, I'm glad I remembered correctly,” he said while leaning his shoulder against the wall of the convenience store. “I have a question.”

“Shoot.”

“Did you ever happen to watch that performance of 12 Angry Jurors I recommended?”

Uh oh. You could physically feel your neurons spark at the familiar title. It was the equivalent to a bell—no, alarm—rattling around inside your noggin.

Younghoon threw his head back in a laugh at how your face rearranged into an expression of pure mortification. "You look like I just caught you with a hand in the canary cage—oh my god, you should see your face!"

You were helpless at this point, and no words were coming to your tongue to rescue you. Screw all the differential calculus—where was language ability when you needed it? “I can explain myself,” was all you came up with.

He crossed his arms over his chest, fixing you with a pointed look, albeit still amused. "I'd love to hear this."

“You know that some things just slip my mind—”

“Yes, and that's why I watched you put it into your calendar.”

“And you know that the school has a bad habit of scheduling big events on the same night—”

He cocked a brow at you, leaning forward slightly. “I don't like where this is going, you workaholic.”

You gestured at him with the piece of bread in between your fingers, and he had to cover his mouth to keep from snorting. “I am not a workaholic,” you said firmly.

“Sure you aren't,” he replied back in a tone that indicated he thought the exact opposite.

“Anyways, they put the research symposium on the same night as the last showing—”

“Ah-ha!” He cried with a triumphant finger pointed at the sky. You were convinced that any second now, he was going to start twiddling an immaculately curled mustache. “So you did procrastinate!”

You pressed your lips together as you crumpled your empty packaging, then raised a finger up to scratch your head sheepishly. “Maybe I did.”

Younghoon drew out an exhale. “Aye, I knew it. You know, I think you're just about married to your work, Yn-ah.” His mouth quirked to the side and he scratched the underside of his jaw. “But I guess that's not a bad thing.”

You gave a small wince. “You're not mad I missed the play?”

“Mad? No, of course not. It wasn't my play,” he joked. “I know you have priorities, and me being mad would just be silly.”

“But you are disappointed,” you countered pointedly.

“Disappointed for you,” he countered. “That was a pretty good performance of 12 Angry Jurors. Though… there is one part that I would have chosen to represent differently, but…” He shrugged, letting the thought float out into the ether.

“What is it?” You prompted.

His lip curled upward and he let out a little chuckle. “I'm not telling you; it'll spoil the ending!”

You were unconvinced. “I'm never gonna see the play, Hoon.”

“Not with that attitude,” he shot back.

You couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out of you from his sass that came out of left field for you. The sound of your joy made his smile widen and his eyes narrow into pretty, upturned crescent moons. The warmth all around you wasn't just from the evening's temperature. You'd forgotten just how easy it was to talk to Younghoon, and you decided that yes, you definitely missed him. But with all good things, it was written with a curtain call.

Younghoon seemed reluctant to push off of the wall and away from you. “Well, I shouldn't keep you any longer,” he said. There was a down turned angle to the corners of his smile now. “I do need to go re-find parking for when I have to go hunt my drunk friends down.”

Your laugh was small. “Good luck with that. And… don't worry about keeping me anywhere too long.”

“Thanks, and I'll keep that in mind.” His tongue stuck out between his teeth for a second, his head ducking down to shake his hair out of his eyes. “Hey, you still have my phone number, right?”

“I do.”

Whether harsh or dim lighting, it highlighted his features beautifully regardless. His eyes twinkled. “Now I know you won't ignore me if I send you another calc pun.”

“I'll look forward to it,” you promised.

The two of you were beginning to step toward your opposite directions, but failed to make your legs move any further. “Get home safe, Yn,” he murmured in goodbye. The possibility of him never reaching out crossed your mind. It wasn't like you didn't have faith that he would; rather, it was your own thoughts creeping into your head that you two came from different worlds. Despite the friendliness between you, that was the whole reason you shied away from ever reaching out. It was nothing personal against him.

EPISODE TWO: PASS GO & COLLECT TWO HUNDRED

GRAVITY reminded you of its existence when a bundle of fabric hit you square in the head. (Then again, you were always reminded of gravity’s existence when you thought about it…) “Yah—hey!” You clawed the article of fabric off your head and whirled around in your desk chair with a scowl. “Kkura!”

Sakura blinked innocently from where she stood at your closet, hand on her hip. “Put it on.”

You made a face as you straightened out the garment in your hands, the frown deepening when you realized which top it was. Or rather, which dress it was. “I haven’t seen this since I unpacked my clothes from boxes two years ago,” you whistled lowly. It was a black satin piece, something you brought along with you from home in case you ever decided to go to an event that called for a cocktail dress. Most of the formal events you attended though usually allowed you to get away with dress pants and a blouse. This poor piece of fabric had been relegated to the back of your closet since.

Your friend resumed sorting through your clothes for any alternatives or more of that kind. “I didn’t even know you owned something like that. I thought all your bottoms clung to your ankles unless they were shorts.”

“I have variety,” you sniffed and draped the dress over the back of your chair. “And what's wrong with bottoms going to my ankles? I like when they get to be warm.”

“That's what socks and shoes are for.”

“Says the girl who wears jeans that pretty much cover her shoes.”

Sakura shot you a look that reminded you of when your mother was exasperated, but she didn't want to admit that you were right. “Okay, so maybe we both have problems. But that's besides the point!” She walked away from your closet to sit herself on the edge of your bed, her hand dragging the arm of your desk chair to roll you over away from your desk. “We're going to a party tonight!”

She beamed, waving her hands around. When you only gave her a blank stare, she cleared her throat. “Ahem, I said, we're going to a party tonight! Woo!”

You pursed your lips. “Not very woo, to be honest.”

“You're not very woo,” she quipped in a deadpan.

“No, no, no!” You cut in, waving your finger back and forth. “Don't pretend like you wouldn't rather stay home than party either. And besides, you know that I don't do crowds.” You gazed off into space as if recalling the Great War with glazed-over eyes, already smelling the sweat and booze, and feeling the suffocating pressure in your chest as people squished up against you, and as you lost sight of your friend or anyone you knew for that matter, in the sea of—

“I know,” Sakura pushed out an exhale, and your eyes shuddered as you came out of that headspace. “But I think it'll be good for us. I mean, you need to get your eyes away from that grant application for one second, and I—”

“Need to stop playing League?” You suggested cheekily.

Your friend's scowl coaxed a high pitched wheezing sound out of you. She pursed her lips. “I was going to offer to hold your hand while we were in the house, but I guess not—”

“Okay, now let's not get ahead of ourselves!” You countered. The glint in Sakura's eyes when you interrupted her told you all you needed to know. Damn her cleverness; she'd got you once again.

Maybe she was the real mastermind.

Two hours later—the both of you dolled up and willpower strong (ish)—you clung to Sakura's hand as you and she slipped into the lively host house for tonight's festivities. Sweat already dampened the lines in your palm, and you moved your grip on your friend to hold onto her arm instead. You hadn't been to a house party or a frat party in a while, the last one being a birthday party for one of your friends from differential calculus turning twenty-one.

This instance was different. For one, there were far too many people packed together per square inch. And second, who thought turning down the lights was a good idea? You were already half blind as it was…

“I think we should get a drink!” Sakura shouted as she sent you an encouraging smile.

Your eyes widened as you narrowly missed getting someone's shoulder shoved into your face. “Yes, a drink sounds great!”

It was a war zone as the two of you maneuvered yourselves through the crowded living room space. The only reason people seemed to converge in that room in particular was because it had been turned into a makeshift dance floor. There were also people seated on the stairs, leaning over the upstairs landing, and meandering around in the halls.

You could feel your head begin to fog up as you unconsciously shifted closer to Sakura's side. Your friend curled her arm around your shoulders, deftly guiding you through the fray to the light at the end of the tunnel—the kitchen. There was a distinct lightening of your chest as you stepped foot into the less crowded space. The kitchen was still only dimly lit with the most minimal of light switches flipped on, but it was still enough where you could at least see your hand in front of your face and the light layer of sweat on Sakura’s brow. You made a swift scan of the area and spotted three people over by the kitchen counter, one of whom was slumped over the countertop, dozing off.

Oh, to be him right now.

“Oh, hello,” greeted one of the trio. He was stationed behind the counter like a bartender, his purple bangs brushed out of his face. The girl with him lifted her hand in a friendly wave.

“Hi, we’re not—uh, interrupting or anything?” Sakura said as your hold on her arm loosened considerably now that you were in an area that was much less crowded.

The two of them shook their heads with too much enthusiasm. “No, no! Definitely not.”

You and Sakura exchanged glances of incredulity, but didn’t push the topic any further. With pleasantries aside, the two of you excused yourselves to peruse the display of alcoholic beverages on the island space. You knew Sakura could hold her alcohol a decent amount, and so could you, so you both looked around for bottles of flavored soju to hold you over for the evening.

You dug around in one of the coolers and withdrew twin bottles of strawberry-flavored ones. “Kkura!”

Her blue-colored head perked up and she brightened as you waved your treasures around in the air. “Ooh, yay! You know, I think we should restock our stash of melon soju at home,” she mused and came over to where you were.

With your drinks secured, you each took the first sip like a shot, then linked arms to face the crowd again.

Drinking either made your anxiety rocket or relax—it depended on the beverage and the kind of day you’d had, but as you nursed your bottle for moments longer, the heaviness in your chest began to gradually recede.

The crowd anxiety you harbored was a byproduct of being the middle child of five siblings. You loved your family to bits, but sometimes home life was overwhelming. It wasn't that you got nervous around people, but more so in large bodies of people. The first year or so of your university life spent in large undergraduate lectures were absolute hell; there was an appeal to the upper division classes besides specialized interests.

But your friends were all aware and took good care of you, which you were more than grateful for.

“Is it just me—” Sakura said to you loudly with blue and purple lights painting her features, “—or does this soju taste really good tonight?”

You smacked your lips together as you savored the sweet taste. “You're definitely right,” you said. “We might have to go back for more.”

“If we can remember how to get there,” she giggled.

“Wait, what's in here?” You steered the two of you into a doorway to your left.

From the looks of the massive table stretching from one end to the next, you had stumbled upon the dining room. The room was large enough for there to be a few different groups of people occupying sections, but the largest one took reign over the farthest end. Your eyes widened in delight when you recognized two people in particular. “Oh wow.”

“Yn?” Chanhee exclaimed in disbelief. He was partly hunched over what looked like a board game as his deft fingers counted out paper money. “You're here?”

Everyone—well, almost everyone—turned their heads to see who Chanhee was talking about. Nonetheless, there were still quite the amount of eyes looking at you and you felt your palms begin to get sweaty around your bottle neck.

Younghoon gasped. “YN!” He grinned, lumbering over with his jelly-like limbs, tripping over people's legs and chairs. You could see the alcohol in his expression before you smelled it, but you couldn't just not hug him when he wrapped his arms around you in greeting. You hadn't seen him since last week at the convenience store but even then, the surprise had yet to escape you. What a cosmic coincidence.

“Hey, Hoon,” you chuckled in amusement, patting his back affectionately. You didn't know he would be so affectionate when drunk, but then again, this was the first time you were experiencing him like this.

“Big guy's a little drunk,” Sakura observed, then lifted her bottle to her lips. “Are you guys playing Monopoly?”

One of the guys, who looked the most of sound mind and state, nodded. “Yeah. D'you guys wanna play?”

Younghoon placed his hands on your shoulders with a goofy grin slipping onto his face as he pulled away. “You should play with us! Guys—” he announced to his friends, “—this is my bestest friend, Yn!”

“And her friend, Sakura,” you cut in, gesturing to Sakura with jazz hands.

“And we would love to play,” Sakura added.

You passed her a glance. There was mischief dancing in her eyes. You supposed at least you knew what you were getting into before jumping into any game with the Miyawaki Sakura. These poor chumps never stood a chance.

“Okay, but Chanhee's the iron,” remarked one of the other boys while you, Sakura, and Younghoon made your way over to where they all were gathered.

You snorted at Chanhee's less than pleased expression. “Why does he insist that you be the flat iron?” You nudged your friend. You met Chanhee and Jungwoo in a shared freshman differential calculus class where the three of you weathered the war together.

Chanhee sighed, his tongue poking his cheek. “Because apparently I have no ass.”

“BECAUSE YOU DON'T!”

“NEITHER DO YOU!”

With none of that settled, a good majority of the people present gathered around the Monopoly board on the table to play. You, Sakura, and Chanhee all clambered onto the dining table to sit while the others rounded the end of the table. It also gave you a little room to breathe while playing with such a large group.

“Ladies first,” declared one of the boys, who's name you learned was Sunwoo, his eyes at half mast and cheeks flushed like red grapefruit.

“If you insist,” Sakura sang and did a little dance as she swiped the dice up to roll.

You placed a hand over your eyes jokingly. “Look away!”

Haknyeon blinked with his eyes wide. “Why?”

“Because she's about to win faster than you can say pass go and collect two hundred.”

In retrospect, you saw this coming. Even if the universe could construct more possible futures than you had atoms on the tip of your pinky finger, you definitely could have seen this coming.

The aftermath immediately following Sakura's utter domination of the Monopoly board left all of her opponents in a sputtering mess. Your friend dusted her fingers off as if there were crumbs on them, a very satisfied Cheshire's cat grin crawling onto her lips. “You can fight it or just accept it,” she shrugged, taking the last swing of her soju.

Eric stared up at her from where he knelt in front of the table, gripping the edge with his palms. He was all wide-eyed and full of wonder. “Teach me your ways.”

“If you get me another soju,” she offered, gesturing with her empty bottle. She probably didn’t expect him to take her up on the offer, because her eyes widened a comical amount when the kid rocketed up to his feet and darted out of the room, faster than she could blink.

“Is he usually like that, so hyper?” You jested to Chanhee as you and he began reorganizing the paper money.

Your pink-haired friend laughed. “Kind of. Youngjae's cute.”

“And what am I, Channieeee?” Came an inebriated Changmin. He teetered over to where you and Chanhee were, then unceremoniously draped himself over the latter's back.

“Ahhhhhh,” Chanhee groaned, “Ji Changmin!”

“Answer my question!” His friend slurred. “I think Yn thinks I'm cute. D'you think I'm cute?” He asked, gazing up with you in a deep pout and puppy dog eyes.

“Don't answer that question, Yn. It's like making a deal with the Devil.”

Changmin scoffed, straightening to a surprisingly perfect posture. He slapped a hand to his chest in offense. “How could you! Chanhee-ssi! We're supposed to be friends!”

You chuckled, leaning out of that dumpster fire of a conversation, and finding yourself in the company of one very loopy bread enthusiast. Younghoon had slipped back from watching the game about three quarters of the way through and slumped into a chair with a can of beer and his phone. At some point, you had given up on Monopoly, too, and considered joining him. Now, you really did move over to join him.

His head perked up when you leaned over and poked his shoulder, a smile coming to his face. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you smiled back. “Tired?”

He gave a slow, drawn-out nod. “Mhm,” he hummed. He lifted the can of beer to his lips and finished it off, then dropped his phone into his lap so he could rest his face between his hands. “I'm kind of hungry.”

You laughed. “I bet. How much did you drink, Hoon?”

“Dunno,” he shrugged.

“Long week?”

“Veeeery long week,” he nodded. “Like…” He spread his arms to his full wingspan, “this much.”

A giggle bubbled out of your mouth at how adorable he was when he was drunk.

Suddenly, he snapped his fingers. “Oh my gosh, Yn! I never sent you the joke I found,” he frowned. “I found it and thought about sending it to you, but then…”

“You forgot?” You offered.

“I just didn't wanna bother you, to be honest.”

Oh. Something in you softened a great deal at the confession. You were always so sure that you would have been the bother, because it was difficult to imagine that someone who seemed so sure of himself like Younghoon might also feel the same. You mimicked his position with your hands holding up your face. “You're never a bother, Younghoon.”

“Even when I ask dumb questions about factoring?”

“There is no such thing as a dumb question.”

He pursed his lips into a line, unconvinced. “You're too nice. No wonder I liked doing math homework.”

You laughed again at the unexpected compliment, and Younghoon smiled to himself. “I'm glad you enjoyed doing your calc homework.”

He opened his mouth like he was about to say something, then snapped it shut with wide, doe-like eyes. “I was going to say a joke, but I realized that I probably shouldn't say that one in particular.”

“Wow, you have a filter when you're drunk?” You teased.

“Hey!” He pretended to sulk. “I'm not that drunk!”

A beat passed, and then he said, “I am still hungry though.” Yeah, definitely drunk.

Within fifteen minutes, you convinced Sakura to accompany you and Younghoon to the convenience store a couple blocks from your apartment. The three of you together managed to snag Chanhee to drive you all, as well as Changmin as an accessory since he and Chanhee lived together. Younghoon had once again insisted on this place in particular because he thoroughly enjoyed the brioche bun from the other day and had been missing it since. You and he settled down at the seating area in the corner of the store with your freshly-purchased bread, while the others traipsed around in search of other sustenance.

Younghoon's cheeks were full of brioche as he muttered a muffled, “You know why I like—calculus jokes?” He swallowed his bite, his eyebrows braiding together as he stared at his now empty package.

You quietly plucked the empty bag out of his hands and replaced it with yours.

He melted at the action. “I do.”

You bursted into a fit of giggles and Younghoon followed straight after you. Your face filled with fire and his bloomed like a blood red rose. The alcohol was slowly settling in. You were a lot more refreshed now that you were outside of the crowd setting, and your chest felt much lighter. “You do?”

“I do,” he reaffirmed, tearing the last bit of bread apart for you both to share instead. “You know why I like—” he hiccupped with the bread half in his mouth. His face morphed into one of confusion, then utter disdain.

You stifled a laugh with your bite of carbs. “Why do you like calculus jokes, Younghoon?” You asked to help him out.

He swallowed his bite. “Because—trig jokes are too graphic and algebra ones are too for—” He hiccupped again, his eyes shooting up toward the ceiling in exasperation.

“Formulaic?” You offered.

Younghoon frowned. “You know this one?”

“I enjoy guessing.”

“Hm,” he grunted, unconvinced. “There is one outlier though.” When he hiccupped for the third time, you patiently waited for him to fill in the blank. “Statistics.”

A small smile wormed its way onto your face. “I have to say, that was very subtle but very good.”

Younghoon beamed with pride. “I knew you would get i—” Another hiccup. He deadpanned. “I hate this.”

You stood up with a chuckle. “Let me get you some water.”

“Thanks,” he pouted. You felt his eyes on you the whole time you went over to the free water cooler over at the counter, and even as you brought him back the little paper cup of liquid.

As he drained the cup, you lingered next to where he sat rather than sitting back down. “Better?” You asked, then held your hand out to take the cup back if he wanted more.

He shook his head though, and he raised it up to his eyes while squinting one of them to aim it at the trash can behind your seat. “How do I get this exactly inside the trash?”

You blinked, eyeballing the distance between his seat and the trash can. The paper cup wasn't going to have a lot of weight while it was empty, but if he threw it with the opening facing him instead…

Younghoon made a noise that sounded a lot like a child's giggle. “Hehe, you're actually doing the math in your head.”

“You don't know that,” you muttered.

“Of course I know that.” He shucked the paper cup and it landed in the trash can with a clean swish sound. He threw his hands in the air. “Woo! Crowd goes wild.”

You laughed and slid back into your seat. “See, you didn't need math to get the cup into the trash can. Nice throw, Hoon.”

He grinned at you. “Thanks. You know how I knew you were doing the math in your head?”

“How?” You humored him amiably.

“Because you get this cute little wrinkle between your eyes, riiiight there—” He leaned forward and booped the place between your eyes, making you go cross-eyed for a split second. “—when you're processing info.”

“Processing info makes me sound like a computer,” you joked.

“Too bad you're not a keyboard,” he said with a sigh, “you'd be just my type.”

An unnaturally loud guffaw came out of your mouth and you slapped your hand over it. There was far too much mirth between the two of you right now. “You're telling me you're good at this drunk, too?” You shook your head, the laugh lingering on your tongue, “Y'know what? I shouldn't be surprised.”

If Younghoon could come up with pick-up lines to remember how to do calculus sober, then you should not have underestimated him drunk.

“Changmin, can you put the plunger down before we get kicked out?” Your head turned toward the sound of Chanhee's pure exhaustion as the three others rounded the corner. You imagined Chanhee dealt with drunk Changmin more than a few times to sound so exasperated. You didn't even want to know what Changmin was doing with the plunger.

Sakura, Chanhee, and Changmin bumbled over to where you and Younghoon sat, the supposed plunger nowhere to be seen. Chanhee brushed a lock of pink out of his eyes with a deep sigh. “Alright; shall we?”

EPISODE THREE: DO AS THE PHYSICISTS DO

THE hungrier Younghoon woke up, the more he likely had to drink the night prior. His stomach growled something horrific and he groaned, rolling his body over to squish his face into his pillow. There were no trains of thought running through his mind at the moment; there was only blissful quiet. And hunger. Goddamn it, he was hungry.

With a huff, he dragged himself upright as if he were rising from the dead. He gave his head a rough shake, eyes bleary as he blinked once… then twice… Oh, yuck. Sticky eyelashes.

There was something white on his desk that caught his eye. There was a yellow sticky note marked with Chanhee's chicken scratch beside it: Yn sent you home with this bottle of painkillers. In case you don't remember, lol.

Dear god, it was coming back to him now.

Younghoon lowered himself down onto the edge of his bed and dragged a hand down his face. Had he been weird? Did you think he was weird now?

His phone was buried somewhere beneath his mess of sheets, and he pulled up your contact that he still had saved from last year. The last message sent was from a brief conversation you both had after his calculus final about what you were both doing when you went home for the winter break. He could feel the warmth creeping up to his cheeks from his neck as he typed out the first message to you since: heyy… about last night…

It was a bit of a surprise when he saw your reply come in nearly straight away.

miss mastermind: LOL good morning, did u sleep okay? younghoon's phone: decently ig 😅 thanks for the painkillers btw i will def take a couple of those miss mastermind: yeah no worries younghoon's phone: how bad was i last night, yn 😭 u can tell me miss mastermind: 😭 u weren't that bad… okay maybe u started singing the calculus parody of bohemian rhapsody on the way to my apartment…

Younghoon snickered into his palm as he stared at the messages on the screen. That memory was definitely rolling back into his head now. It was that, along with the Monopoly game, then the convenience store, and finally, the walk to yours and Sakura's apartment before Chanhee dropped him off here.

miss mastermind: i can't say im too surprised u remembered it tho 😭 sometimes i forget that ur trained to remember things younghoon's phone: that's a funny way to describe being an actor LMAO younghoon's phone: but also i'd be lying if i didn't admit that im so embarrassed abt last night miss mastermind: nooo don't be!! it's all good, i thought u were a very cute drunk

He smiled against his hand. He typed: Well now I just have to make it up to you.

miss mastermind: u absolutely do not younghoon's phone: actually i do younghoon's phone: if i recall correctly, u gave me the rest of ur BREAD. that's like…|

He paused, having nearly written “marriage proposal.” Quickly backspacing, he replaced it with “donating an organ.” Maybe he was a little delusional, but he could've sworn he heard your laugh echoing in his head after he sent it and saw the indicator appear that you were typing. He reached over to grab the bottle of painkillers as he monitored your texts coming in.

miss mastermind: DONATING AN ORGAN… miss mastermind: yk, i knew u liked bread, but not THIS much younghoon's phone: but ofc :0 she's my first love miss mastermind: understood o7 now ik how to sway ur judgment ☝️ younghoon's phone: le gasp younghoon's phone: truly evil mastermind things only miss mastermind: the le gasp is taking me out 😭 younghoon's phone: how abt /i/ take u out instead 😗

As soon as he sent it, he grimaced. Oh no, this was going to be taken out of context. You were going to go through the whole “sorry, I'm not really interested in you” talk, and he would have to sit through it pretending like it didn't hurt—he didn't mean for it to sound like that. You were just friends after all.

younghoon's phone: I MEAN LIKE younghoon's phone: for watching over me and humoring me last night yk! it doesn't have to be something fancy either, just something that we can do as friends! and to say thanks

His grimace deepened. Those clarification texts did nothing to help his case. It also did not calm his nerves when you failed to respond immediately like you had been for the past few minutes. “Well, you've done it now,” he muttered to himself as he frowned down at the screen.

For a couple minutes, there was nothing from your end and he forced himself to drag his ass off the bed in search of sustenance. Hyunjae's door was closed, so the rest of the apartment was quiet as he bounded out of his room toward the kitchen. Periodically (read: every couple seconds), Younghoon would glance at his phone screen waiting for your reply. “What are you scared of?” He said to himself as he opened the fridge and scratched his jaw. “You literally came up with pick-up lines for calculus terms with her.”

There were leftovers from a couple nights ago, and Younghoon grabbed those to heat up. He closed the refrigerator with his hip, eyes darting to his phone, only to see his screen light up. He dropped the leftover container on the counter and scooped the device up.

miss mastermind: i really don't think it's necessary to pay it back or anything, but we can def hang out! miss mastermind: also sorry my sister stole my phone TT but i got it back haha It was sad how fast relief flushed through him at that moment. younghoon's phone: oh no dw abt it lol ur with family rn? miss mastermind: i am! my aunt's in town and so i was summoned home for brunch 🤧 younghoon's phone: …is there :’)) uhm french toast :’)) miss mastermind: *sent a photo* younghoon's phone: that was cruel. miss mastermind: HAHAHA SORRY 😭

Younghoon stuck his leftovers into the microwave to heat up, but was suddenly craving French toast. He knew for certain he didn't have everything to make it right this second though. Maybe he would wake Hyunjae up to go impromptu grocery shopping.

younghoon's phone: i don't wanna keep u away from ur family any longer, but lmk if u have any preferences for what we should do together miss mastermind: no prefs in particular and dw, talking to u helps distract me from the amount of chaos happening in this house :’) miss mastermind: i do have to go now tho unfortunately :l my sister looks like she's abt to snatch my phone again 😭 younghoon's phone: LOL 😭 okay i'll talk to u soon then younghoon's phone: enjoy ur toast :/ miss mastermind: HAHA i'll save u a slice hoon 😋

The microwave beeped its conclusion, and Younghoon pulled the piping hot bowl of leftover food out. As he took a stab at it with his fork, he came to the swift conclusion that he was not going to be full on this. As he shoveled the food into his mouth, he started toward Hyunjae's room to give his friend a very rude awakening. “HYUNJAE! WE NEED FRENCH TOAST!”

There was no better place than the convenience store at the ripe timestamp of ten o'clock to meet with a friend. You'd gotten back from your house at around four o'clock in the afternoon, so you weren't too tired, though the cleanup and all the social interaction was threatening to take you out. Any school work or grant application work would have to wait until tomorrow.

Nonetheless, you felt a giddy sort of excitement bubble up in you as you hustled yourself down the street to the convenience store to meet Younghoon. In your hands, you clutched a small, sandwich-sized Tupperware container with a slice of holy French toast within. It was your older brother's favorite thing to make when he had to contribute to a brunch (or, let's face it, any meal) spread.

Younghoon had never been tardy to your tutoring sessions last year, so you weren't surprised when you saw him seated at your usual table in the corner. He glanced up from his phone as you walked in, waving. There was a blue colored beanie over his head and a brown corduroy jacket draped over his shoulders.

He noted the container in your hands and his eyes widened like saucers. “You did not.”

“I told you I would save you a piece,” you said sheepishly as you set the container down in front of him and took a seat.

“You—” His bottom lip jutted out. “I can't accept this.”

“You have to. It has your name on it,” you insisted, pointing out the little “Younghoon” scrawled on the side in Sharpie with a smiley face. It was customary in your household to write names on containers if they weren't already color coded or marked with a label. Label makers cost more than Sharpies did, and most of the time, your family didn't mind scrubbing the ink off if needed.

Younghoon's smile was sweet like the pastry sitting in the Tupperware. “I literally made French toast as soon as we stopped texting.”

You laughed. “No way.”

“Yes way! I dragged Hyunjae's ass out of bed,” he told you with great energy, eyes alight as he recalled his late morning antics to you. “I really didn't expect that you would bring me a slice, Yn, you sweetheart.”

“We had lots of leftovers and I just knew the most enthusiastic bread fanatic I knew had to try some of my big brother's toast,” you told him, pleased with his reaction.

He seemed at a loss for words; he just kept looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky, and you wondered how you could replicate this reaction over and over again. “Thank you,” was what he settled on. “I—” He gestured to the container, to you, to the container, “It means a lot.”

“You're welcome,” you said simply.

Younghoon heaved a great sigh and stood up. “Now I have to buy you some snacks—no. Yn, sit your ass down.”

Your eyes widened a comical amount and you plopped yourself back onto the chair.

His lips wiggled as he held back a smile. “Don't move.”

“You don't have to do this, Hoon,” you shook your head as he began making his way over to the aisles.

“What's that rule in chemistry? Energy can neither be created nor destroyed?” He queried from within the drinks aisle.

“The first law of thermodynamics,” you supplied. “It's not just chemistry though. It's relevant in all the sciences.” You weren't sure where he was going with this.

“Yeah, well—” He paused. You couldn't see him from where you were, but even the rustling noises stopped. “Shit, that's not the right rule.”

You bit back a laugh. Oh, he was too adorable.

“What's the one where equal and opposite and…?”

Your brain tripped. “Uh, the—the 'for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction’ one?”

More crinkling. “Aha! That's the one. Yeah, so for your actions, I must do as the physicists do, and react accordingly.”

Younghoon returned to you with an entire treasure trove of goodies that you swore amounted to more than what was due. (That number to you was technically zero, but for Younghoon's insistence, it was slightly over zero… maybe one one-thousandth.) It was a smorgasbord of peach drinks with lychee jelly, potato chips, daifuku mochi, and of course, bread buns. It was a feast in its own right. You both dove straight into the snacks before you. When life gave one lemons, one was to make lemonade.

Younghoon popped a chip into his mouth. “Do you come here often? Is this your hangout spot?” He suddenly asked, then dipped his hand into the bag and waved a chip around in the air, a quizzical kink in his brow. “I mean, you do live close by and you seem to be very familiar with the place.”

You screwed the cap of your bottle of juice back on and wiggled your fingers as you surveyed what snack to eat next. “I do hang out here often—you’re right,” you replied. The daifuku looked very appetizing right about now. “I've been coming by since school started to knock out my grant app.”

He perked up curiously. “Grant app?”

“It's for the Space Grant.” In partnership with the national space organization, your university offered something called the Space Grant, which would grant three applicants with a monetary award that could be used toward their education in aerospace. You'd had your eye on it even before you began attending this school, and you were determined to be one of the three who won it this year.

After you briefed him on the cause of much of your recent stress, Younghoon gave an indulging nod. “Mmmmh, I see. You're still aerospace engineering then, right?”

“Yep,” you chirped. “me and propulsion theory to the end. I guess I'm an airplane kid.” At the latter, you made a face. You were the space version of an airplane kid… the alternate of train kids and car kids…

“Don't think about it too much,” he said with corners of his smile peeking out on either side of where he pressed his fist against his lips.

You tried not to. “How about you? What have you been up to?”

He breathed out an exhale. “Hm? Oh, like, with drama?”

“Sure, anything and everything about you.” You leaned your cheek against your fist and peered over at him. “We've been talking about me too much.”

“Nonsense,” he tsked. “You already know I recite lines, dabble in the hilariously good pun on occasion, and am incredibly obsessed with carbohydrates.”

“What more could I possibly wanna know?” You played along.

“Exactly.” He chuckled then, tongue darting out for a second to wet his lips. “Jokes aside, nothing too much. Hyunjae's best friend, HJ!Yn—she’s a director and writer, and she's putting on her own play in the spring that I'll be auditioning for.”

Your eyebrows arched in interest. “Oh? What's it about?”

“No clue.”

You nodded. “Ah, well, good luck—or, break a leg. People say that, right? It's not just in movies?”

“People do say that, yes,” he affirmed. “And thank you. I'm gonna start a part-time teaching job at a school nearby for their theater program, which I think will be fun.”

“That does sound fun,” you agreed. Because you had two younger siblings yourself, you knew that taking care of young ones was a lot, but if anyone could do it, you knew Younghoon could. You imagined he would do quite well with them. “Let me know when they have a performance!”

His eyes twinkled in the fluorescent lights; you were beginning to grow more accustomed to the way the harsh brightness painted his features softer. “You have to promise to come though. This is more important than 12 Angry Jurors.”

You placed a hand against your heart in playful solemnity. “I, Yn Ln, do solemnly swear that I will try my very best to make it to see their performance.”

He cleared his throat, his expression falling into an expertly grave facade. “I accept your promise,” he said and extended his hand out to you across the table, “shake my hand, and may the deal never be broken.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from breaking out of character as you shook his hand. When you'd both withdrawn your hands, you watched him, fascinated, as he exited out of character. It was like a switch had been flicked off behind his eyes. Crazy.

Satisfied, Younghoon laced his fingers beneath his chin with a giddy, little smile on his face. “I'll save you an aisle seat.”

“I appreciate that,” you said. You really did—and he really remembered.

“And I'll make silly faces at you from the curtain wings.”

You laughed, telling him you couldn't wait.

EPISODE FOUR: TRAINS GO BOOM?

THERE were too many fires to put out at once. You were becoming the humanoid version of that dog in a burning house meme, and you didn't like it. It was not fine.

“Girl, I wish you'd told me, like, three weeks ago—”

You tasted the rejection a mile out.

“—I already committed to this robotics thing that night,” Jungwoo cried in anguish as he threw his head back. “I could've gone to the Space Gala! Instead, I'm watching people play with robots.”

You passed him a sympathetic look. “Robots are cool.”

“But I don't even get to do anything! I can only spectate!” You both stopped in the middle of your walk as he made unintelligible noises and gesticulations. Jungwoo grabbed your shoulders and shook them. “YN! WHAT AM I DOING WITH MY LIFE? I have to pay to watch people have fun.”

Your head was wobbling back and forth like a bobble head. Thank god for spines. “Woo—I’m gonna be honest—”

He stopped shaking you.

“I have no idea,” you said to him. “But we are in the same boat.”

The two of you were currently situated on the engineering side of campus. Most of the buildings around you were geared toward the great spectrum of engineering students—from electrical and computer, to aerospace and nautical. You just got out of a numericals simulation course and caught up with Jungwoo coming out of the engineering library to present to him your newest dilemma.

Jungwoo's posture sank. “I only have regrets after pursuing MechE.”

You pursed your lips, lamely patting him on the shoulder. “I told you aero is cooler.”

“I won't dignify that with an answer,” he sulked. Jungwoo picked himself up, however, as he always did. He carded a hand through his floppy brown bangs, eyes flickering down to his phone screen before his eyeballs nearly fell out of his socket. “Oh shit—I’m gonna be late to advanced mathematics. Chanhee is gonna murder me.”

He bumped your shoulder with the back of his hand. “Good luck on finding a plus one, Yn-ie!”

“Good luck getting there before Chanhee,” you hollered back.

Jungwoo threw you an expression that needed no subtitles, but fitting ones would read, That was so unnecessary!

As your friend sprinted in one direction, you began walking in the opposite direction. You had a little more than a couple hours before your next lecture, so you could probably either walk around and enjoy the day's nice weather or find a place to work. All bets were off when you felt your phone buzz from your pocket, and you saw the message on the screen. It was a text from your older sister: hey mom's asking if u have something to wear to the wedding lol.

The “LOL” at the end really downplayed how much stress this was going to give you. The entire event of The Wedding had slipped from your mind over the past week—actually, you were pretty sure you forgot the moment you got back into your car to drive home from brunch last weekend.

If you thought you had a large immediate family, your extended one would silence all thoughts instantly. One of your cousins-in-law was getting married in December, which meant you needed to find an outfit and mentally prepare yourself for the amount of people there were going to be in one room.

The Wedding made you anxious.

You shot your sister a frazzled text back. It was something along the lines of: maybe… lemme check the back of my closet… or pray I have funds in my bank account.

You somehow made your way to one of the green spaces on campus. It wasn't the main lawn that people picnicked or hung out on, but it was still just as beautiful as the main one. It also sat right by the café located down here in the engineering corner; you and your friends liked to loiter around here when the weather was nice.

It was exactly why you thought you were hallucinating when you saw Younghoon walking toward you.

“Younghoon?” You voice incredulously. “What're you doing here?”

He beamed at you, reaching a hand up to cup the back of his neck. “Oh, you know, just taking a walk and enjoying this nice, autumn weather…”

“Down in the engineering buildings?”

He sniffed, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I wasn't purposely trying to look for you or anything,” he said and rocked back and forth on his heels.

You didn't need to know rocket science to read him. “Okay,” you drawled. “Say I believe you.”

“Divine coincidence,” he shrugged helplessly, jovially, even. His eyes were upturned in cute crescent moons. “Oh! And would you look at that—” He swung his backpack around to the front of his body and withdrew your plastic container from its depths, empty and clean, with even his sharpied name scrubbed off. “I just happened to have this on me.”

You sputtered out a laugh and accepted the container from him. “How funny that this pattern of events keeps happening.”

“Pfft, I know, right?” He brushed a hand through his hair. “So, uh, what're you up to?”

“What am I up to?” You parroted. “Not sure, to be honest. I've got a couple hours to kill. What about you?”

Younghoon gestured to the walkway that bordered the perimeter of the engineering lawn. You fell into step beside one another. “Nothing much, too. I kind of just needed a little walk outside to clear my head.”

You sighed, nodding. “I get that.”

“That sounded… very heavy,” he said, passing you a glance. “Something on your mind, Mastermind?”

“Oh, well,” you trailed off, uncertain of where to begin or how to begin. It seemed like Younghoon had something on his mind, too, and you didn't want to give him something else to hold onto. But when you looked over at him, there was a concentrated, concerned furrow in his brow; he was nowhere else but present with you.

You clasped the back of your neck and felt the knot in your muscles. “There's this thing.”

“Mhm.”

“Colloquially, it's referred to as the Space Gala, but it's kind of just an evening prepared by the Space Grant Consortium with a bunch of booths and a Q&A panel—things like that.”

His eyebrows lifted. “Wow, a whole consortium?”

“Yup.” You'd been a member of the student club associated with the consortium since freshman year, not just to keep up to date with information about the space grant, but because you enjoyed attending the events and learning about new innovations related to your desired field. “And it's a little formal where everyone dresses nicely to a degree, and each member can bring a plus one. Usually, Sakura comes with me, but something just came up for her that she can't avoid so—” You made a helpless gesture with your hands.

It was no fault of her own that she couldn't avoid the personal matter that came for her. You just needed to find someone to go with you now, but finding someone on such short notice was proving to be less than swift.

“Ah,” Younghoon said in understanding. “You'd like to attend with someone you're comfortable with because it's a large gathering of people, and—when is it?”

“Next Friday,” you grimaced.

He blinked. “Oh, wow.”

“Yeah.”

Younghoon pressed his lips together. “Hey, I mean, if you're looking for someone to go with—I dunno if you're comfortable with me compared to your closer friends—and I don't want to seem as if I'm inviting myself, but—”

“Younghoon,” you cut in with the knots in your neck and shoulders suddenly dissipating. You pressed your hands together, touching them to your lips. “Would you like to go to the Space Gala with me?”

The most beautiful smile blossomed onto his face then, and you swore to go it was warmer than the sun's beams. For a second, his cheekbones darkened with something bashful, but it was hidden in the blink of an eye, and you were met again with the charming Younghoon you knew well. “Why, there's nothing I would love to do more.”

“You are a lifesaver.”

“Aw, don’t worry about it,” he laughed. “I'm happy to go with you, Yn. I mean, what does Sakura usually do to help you when you're in crowded places?”

Hold my hand. That thought was immediately cast aside. That was probably far too much. You coughed, “Uhm, just—you know—stick around me. I get kind of overwhelmed when there are a lot of people around.”

“Overstimulation?” He offered sympathetically.

“I suppose that's the word I'm looking for.”

Younghoon nodded. “Okay. Hey, that's okay. You just tell me what I need to do to make you feel safe and I'll do it.”

Your heart pounded in your chest and you couldn't figure out the right words to express your gratitude. It was hard not to downplay your own misgivings; it took time to practice being patient with yourself. “Thanks, Hoon. I don't really… know what to say, but I really do appreciate it.”

“You don't have to say anything,” he said easily. “And I think, personally, I'm a great plus one.”

If only all of your troubles in life could be fixed so simply by Kim Younghoon being your plus one.

Your stroll together took you down toward the environmental science building. It was a path through a heavily forested area, though a little strange even being located somewhere south of the main campus. The paved sidewalk faded into a worn dirt path, and sunlight filtered in through the layers of leaves crisscrossing overhead.

“I've spilled my guts,” you piped up, “now what's on your mind?” You added swiftly, “If you're comfortable with sharing.”

Younghoon blew out an exhale from his mouth. “You know that job I mentioned? The one where I'm working with a youth theater program nearby?”

You nodded. “Yeah, how's that going, by the way?”

“I'm not sure,” he admitted with his mouth shifted to the side. “I had my first day with them on Wednesday, and I'm seeing them again today. I think I'm just nervous that they'll get bored of me.”

Ah, you could understand that. Surely your years helping out with your younger siblings could lend some use. It was rare to see Younghoon in this state of unease, and it was even more rare to think of someone who wouldn't like him. Seeing him troubled even a little made your stomach churn, and you wanted to help find a solution. “How old are they?”

“They’re all older primary school kids,” he said. “Young enough to not be scary middle schoolers and old enough to have some kind of attention span.”

You smiled to yourself. “Oh, I know exactly what you're talking about.”

“I knew you would.” He brightened. “You have younger siblings, don't you? Any chance one of them wants to become an actor?”

“Oh, hm,” you murmured, “Sadie's got her eyes set on ballet right now and I think Quincey's really only fascinated about his trains. They can be swayed though, I'm sure.”

“How do I keep a kid's interest though?”

You wish you had a formula for that. You worried your bottom lip between your teeth. “To be so honest with you, kids just like learning about dangerous shit.”

Younghoon wheezed. “What?”

You grabbed his shoulder as you both stopped in the walkway so he would face you. “Listen—no, I'm being serious, Younghoon!” You were trying to get a hold of this man as if you weren't gradually losing it, too. “Do you know how many times my little brother has made his trains go boom?”

“Yn.”

“He has problems, I know; he's like, four and a half or something.”

Younghoon's eyes were filled with mirth as he pressed his knuckles against his mouth. “Yn, do you know how insane that sounds?”

Your eyes shuddered in a blink. “Huh?”

He grappled onto your shoulders with another wheeze, eyes moist with laughter and a twinge of something else you couldn't process. “Yn, are you free next Friday at three?”

“Yeah?”

“Come with me to see the kids?”

“Okay.”

His tongue ran over his teeth as he grinned. Younghoon's head dipped in a nod, and he dropped his hands to the side. You didn't know what the hell just happened, but you had a feeling a solution was very much found.

EPISODE FIVE: TO INFINITY & BEYOND

“PLEASE tell me you're leaving the medieval torture devices out of the discussion.”

You passed him a look from the passenger's side of Younghoon's Prius. (It was objectively hilarious to watch this man fold his long limbs up to get in and out of this car; you didn’t know how the laws of nature even allowed a human with his height to own and drive one of these things.) “You say that like you were sure I wasn't.”

It was currently the Friday following, and the day you and Younghoon would both be each other's plus ones. Presently, you were in his car as he drove you both over to the elementary school where he was part-timing. Once this class was over, you would split off to prepare for tonight's Space Gala before meeting again at the venue on campus.

He turned his signal on as he pulled into the parking lot. “I'm just making sure.” He glanced over at you. “Are you excited?”

“To have about two dozen pairs of eyes on me?” You had faced crowds before and they weren't your forte, but you supposed if they were all bite-sized people this time, it wouldn't be so bad. Plus, Younghoon said they would be sitting down and working in groups most of the time anyways. The appeal of this crowd was that you didn't have to worry about getting swept up.

“They're all nice kids,” he said as if consoling you. “It'll be fun!”

“But I can talk about the trebuchet, right?” You asked after he parked and you were clambering out of the car. That one time you went down a fascinating rabbithole of medieval machinery was about to come in handy.

Younghoon paused with his hand on the top of his door. “That wasn't the one with the horse-pulling, was it?”

“Oh, definitely not.”

He locked the door and the two of you began walking side by side to cross the parking lot. There was a plastic clipboard in his hand made of a material in a shade of translucent neon green, something you expected a PE teacher would carry around, except this clipboard was armed with scripts and instructor notes. The little drama program at this school was currently only an after-school occurrence, but if this all went well, they might be granted permission from the school to start integrating it into everyday classes. It was exciting—you could remember your first years of exposure to things like liquid nitrogen ice cream, egg drop competitions, and the National Geographic issue called Astronauts. Perhaps in another life you would've been an astronaut, rather than the engineer who designed the vessel that would take them into space.

Needless to say, these were some of their most impressionable years, and Younghoon was going to be a big part of these kids’. It made you warm and fuzzy inside.

Sometime between today and last week, Younghoon brought you up to speed on what the kids were currently working on. The head instructor picked out something from an adapted version of How to Train Your Dragon, which in all honesty, was cool as fuck. Immediately, thoughts about how to build a harness apparatus for an actual dragon model came to your mind, but you would need to take a look at the dimensions of the stage and preferably leave flamethrowers out of the end result. That was if you were allowed to or even had the time to.

It would be fun though. Of course it was going to be fun.

Younghoon was the first one to enter the auditorium room. It was a multipurpose building with a large, open concept space lined in carpet with a stage at the furthest end and the doors to the library across the way. With the impending introduction, you stuck behind your friend as he poked his head in. Instant squeals of delight erupted at the sight of him. (He was kidding when he said he was worried about the kids ever getting bored of him, right?) “Younghoon!”

Younghoon’s smile was so big that you could see it even when his face was half turned. “Hi everyone—I brought a friend today. Let’s give her a nice, warm welcome, hm?” Younghoon stepped completely into the room now, his hand coming over to gently sweep you in with him by your shoulder. “This is Yn.”

You raised your hand in a small, awkward wave, a greeting somehow managing to come out of your mouth. There were so many little ones present and they were all sitting in a misshapen blob in the middle of the carpet, their backpacks lined up against one of the side walls. Interacting with children who weren’t your siblings or relatives was a lot different.

“Oh my gosh,” you heard one of them gasp. “Is she his partner?”

“No, she is not my partner—she’s a friend,” Younghoon replied pointedly. “Boys and girls can be friends, Roni.”

There was a boy with a gray colored Lightning McQueen jacket on who said, “That’s exactly what my brother said before he asked his best friend to be boyfriend-girlfriend.”

Well. You angled your head toward your counterpart and murmured to him, “How old did you say these kids were?”

“Now you know why I needed your help,” he joked. “Their brains run too fast.”

“And you think the two of ours can measure up?”

Another small one—she had her dark hair in twin pigtails, knotted off with bows—raised her hand. “Are you an actor like Younghoon?”

“Me?” You pointed at yourself as if there was someone else she could’ve been asking. “Oh, no, I don’t have the skillset to be an actor,” you mused. “I basically make airplanes and rockets.” Basically.

A flurry of excitement kicked up like a snowstorm, and you could feel your skin warm at the sudden increase in energy. Perhaps you should have led with that..? But even so, it was abrupt, and you didn’t quite know what to do with yourself—

Younghoon cleared his throat, “Hey guys, let’s keep our noise level down, please.”

In response to his request, the kids miraculously managed to quiet themselves down to a buzzing chatter. It hit you at that moment; Younghoon wasn’t just good with kids—he was incredible. Why did he ever think he needed your help when you could barely stutter out a sentence about what you did instead of acting?

“I told Yn about the show we’re putting on,” he said with everyone’s attention now settled on him, including yours, “and she was very excited about seeing it.”

“Is she gonna make us fly?” Someone asked with their eyes wide and big, and you swore you could fit the whole Milky Way within the awe that was in their irises. Kids, man.

“Only if you guys do good today,” Younghoon said. “Why don’t we break off into groups and show Miss Yn what we’ve been practicing, hm?”

You managed to pick out the Star Trek theme over the volume of your hair dryer, and swore loudly as you cut the device off and scurried into your room to find your phone. “Hello?” You answered as you brought your phone back with you into the bathroom.

“Hey,” answered Younghoon, “I was thinking of just picking you up to go to the thing tonight instead of just meeting there.”

It was approximately two hours since you and Younghoon departed from the elementary school. You were back at your apartment now, attempting to get your bearings and clean yourself up for the evening's festivities.

You could feel the gears turning in your head as you weighed your options. “I mean—only if it’s convenient.”

“Okay, I’ll be by at say… 7?”

“Sounds good,” you replied as you finished up styling your hair. Though nicknamed the Space Gala, it wasn’t meant to be incredibly formal like dinner jackets and evening gowns—nice shirts, ironed pants and skirts, and non-sneakers or non-sandals would do fine. “Thanks, Hoon.”

“Mhm!” He chirped to the accompaniment of rustling in the background.

“Also—” You grabbed your phone and flicked the bathroom light off. As you were making your way back into your bedroom, you saw Sakura peer out through her open doorway with curious eyes like that of a cat. She wagged her eyebrows at you knowingly and you shooed at her playfully. “Kim Younghoon, you are such a liar!”

His laugh was sincere and bright. “Technically, I never lied.”

“You are great with kids.”

“Being good with kids is a subjective quality, my friend,” he replied, and you could hear the smile in his voice. “Besides, you did great with them, too. They loved you.”

You pursed your lips in a sad, silly attempt to stay petty, but you couldn’t deny that you had a nice time with him and his students this afternoon. Once the initial jitters subsided, you loosened up a considerable amount. Adults oftentimes underestimated how perceptive kids were, but you had a feeling that they caught onto what made you feel overwhelmed pretty quickly. At least, most of the groups you were working with did.

But… you had fun. That was all that mattered in the end. You would enjoy going back to see them again. You kicked your door closed with your foot. “I had a good time,” you replied at last. “Thanks for letting me tag along.”

“Yeah, of course. It was really fun having you there with me—us.”

You both paused on either end of the phone as the conversation reached a natural lull point. As you fitted on the freshly-steamed blouse you planned to wear tonight, you caught the time at the top of your phone screen. “Uh… so I’ll see you in about twenty minutes then?”

Shuffling from his end, and then, “Yep—twenty minutes! See you in a bit, Yn-ah.”

“Bye, Hoon!”

Twenty minutes flew by faster than 299,000,000 meters per second—at least, to you. One moment, you were ducking into the passenger side seat of Younghoon’s Prius, and the next, the two of you were being admitted in through the doors of the annual Space Gala. The usual “venue” that the consortium booked for this event was one of the campus’s main buildings that housed three large lecture rooms on the first floor, as well as two lecture halls on the second floor across from another large event space.

The lobby was filled with a crush of people, with some faces you recognized and others that you didn't. There were tables draped over with black cloth that hosted educational mini games where one could win free button pins and stickers, booths with companies associated with the consortium present to pitch potential internships, and everything in between. Younghoon stuck to your side like glue. You felt the warmth of his hand either between your shoulder blades or on one of your shoulders as the two of you maneuvered your way through the crowd.

It wasn’t until you hit the farther end of the lobby where there was a clearing of people that you felt the pressure in your sternum alleviate. You imagined your gaze appeared a little empty, glassy even, but it was all just an overwhelming wave of sensations on all ends.

“How’re you feeling?” You heard Younghoon’s voice close to your ear so you could hear him but anyone else around you couldn’t.

You focused on that—his voice. “I’m fine,” you assured him with a small smile. “I’m excited to be here and it’s just a lot.”

Younghoon smiled back at you and you felt his palm warm little circles on your back. “Take your time. The guy at the front says it’ll be another half hour until we can expect the panel to start.”

“Kkura and I—we, uh, usually go in a little earlier than everyone else.” Depending on the year, you and Sakura either occupied seats in the front couple of rows or one of the balcony seats. The former was to distract you from the idea of several hundred other people being in the room behind you, whereas the latter was so you had a large space between you and the crowd. Both were methods that you and your friend deduced were the best at soothing any feelings of overwhelm.

He nodded. “Okay, yeah, we can still do that. Are there any tables you wanna visit before we go in?”

“Actually,” you said, and your heart leapt at the memory of one booth you visited every year, “I have to show you this one thing—it’s so neat. It might be on the other side of the lobby, but we can cut upstairs and get to it that way.” Where there was a will, there was most definitely a way.

Younghoon’s expression mirrored the excitement in yours. “Lead on, Yn-ah,” he chuckled and let you grab his hand to show him why you loved what you did.

This year was dubbed a balcony year.

From yours and Younghoon’s perch up in the balcony rows, you could peer down at the hundreds of heads below, as well as the presentations given onstage. You were always blown away by the new information and possibilities brought up during the year’s presentations, as well as during the question and answer section where audience members could either line up to ask the panelists their queries directly or send them anonymously to an online platform.

Your preferred method was most definitely the latter because public speaking was not your forte, even though it meant you would have less probability for your questions to be answered. One year, Kkura had practically escorted you up to a panelist when everyone was leaving because you had a burning question.

But this year was different. All of your awe was coupled with the amount of marvel expressed by your partner for the evening. If you were fascinated by what was being discussed below, then Younghoon just entered a whole new galaxy.

You found yourself glancing over at him the whole night to watch his reaction. Periodically, your eyes would meet, and you might have been embarrassed to be caught looking at him, but it was completely dashed away by the pure reverence that was stark on his face.

At some point, the evening did have to come to an end, and you and Younghoon lingered up in the balcony to let everyone else below you trickle out first.

“That,” Younghoon whistled low, “was incredible. I’m so—” He made unintelligible hand gestures before coming up with a word, “—bedazzled. I’m positively bedazzled.”

You grinned. “I’m very pleased to hear that you’re bedazzled.”

“I mean, why don’t we hear about this on the news?” He queried, eyebrows knitted together in disbelief. He reached up to adjust the wiggly star headband on top of his head that he won from a spin-the-wheel stall earlier. “If they talked about finding organic chemicals on faraway planets on the evening news, viewership from my devices would skyrocket for them.”

“Don’t we all wish they talked about space on the news,” you sighed as you leaned your cheek against your fist. “But also, as Dr. Cho mentioned, we can’t get too excited yet. Organic chemicals for us might not mean organic chemicals for an alien species.”

Younghoon nodded slowly. “Right,” he drawled. “That’s so interesting to think about… that we’re possibly not alone and that they could either be very similar to us or very different, or maybe even somewhere in between.”

“Isn’t it crazy?” You couldn’t count the amount of times you got lost in a rabbithole of research when you were supposed to be working on assignments instead. Your eyes darted down to the lower levels to check the population density, and garnered that you could still wait at least a couple minutes more. “Hey, you know, if you're interested in this stuff, then you should come to some of the planetarium’s presentation nights sometime.”

Your counterpart’s eyes widened like the lens of a telescope. “We have a planetarium?”

You giggled. “Yeah, silly. What did you think the astronomy tower was for?”

“We have an astronomy tower?”

You smiled wide against your knuckles as you nodded. “Maybe you should wander down by the engineering buildings more often.”

Younghoon made an incredulous face. “Maybe I should.” He considered something for a moment and you watched the smile blossom onto his face again. “Though, I have a feeling that if I looked into a telescope, I'd only see you—’cause you're a star.”

“That was awful,” you snorted into your hand, shaking your head.

“Not my best work,” he admitted. He could admit defeat when he was met by it, but he wouldn't let it hinder his efforts. “You know, I think Galileo was wrong.”

“How so?” You asked as you motioned for the two of you to start gathering your things.

“You're the center of my universe.”

You were pretty sure the lower levels could hear your laugh echo against the walls. “Oh my god.”

“Or maybe that just makes you the sun,” he said to you in a singsong tone while trailing after you.

“I’m walking home, Younghoon.”

“You can try, sunshine.”

EPISODE SIX: THE ONE WHERE IT GETS WORSE

MURPHY'S Law stated that “anything that can go wrong will go wrong,” with an adage of “at the worst possible time.” You needed to have words with this Murphy.

You were now in the thralls of midterm season. It was common knowledge and experience among STEM students that once midterm season began, it didn't stop until finals hit. You hadn't even realized how fast midterms had arrived until it was pouncing on you like a predator in the brush. You were currently being torn apart by the jaws of a hungry lion called Life.

“I haven't finished the grant app, Kkura.” You stared at the white wall behind your desk with a blank glaze over your eyeballs. There were sticky notes and pieces of paper tacked there with reminders and diagrams like they were makeshift whiteboards, but you weren't looking at them.

“My aerothermo exam is in two days,” you continued on in a droning voice, “and the internship interview is the day after.”

You spun around in your chair to face where Sakura was perched crisscrossed on your bed with a sympathetic frown. The internship addition was a new one. You had sent in your application a couple months ago, and results of applicants who had passed to the interview phase were only recently released. While you were relieved beyond measure that you made it, the interview couldn't have come at a worse time.

“Well,” she began, “we already decided that I'm going to help you prepare for the interview, Yn. The grant app isn't due for another month. All you need to worry about right now is the aerothermo exam, right?”

When she put it that way… “You're right,” you sighed and lifted your hands up to dig the heels of your palm into your eyes. Sometimes it just took an outside perspective to knock a little logic into you.

The Star Trek theme song blared from your phone, and you both startled at the abruptness. You fumbled for the device, then quickly picked up the phone call when you saw that it was from your mom. “Hi, mom. Everything okay?”

“Your brother can't make it to the wedding.”

You made a face. “I'm guessing you don't mean Quincey…”

You could imagine the exasperation on your mom's face from the other side of the phone. “Yn, I call you because you're the logical one in the family.”

If only she knew what pain you were putting yourself through because of your current lack of sense. You leaned back in your chair, eyes fluttering closed for a moment. “Why can't Justin make it?” Justin was your eldest brother who had the divine French toast recipe.

“He's flying to Paris for his culinary school interview. You know I always tell that boy to double check his schedules—he never listens,” your mom exhaled sharply. You could hear the loud clatter of the dryer in the background; she must be doing laundry.

“Sounds like Justin,” you murmured. “So what's the problem? Can't we just go sans Justin?”

“We already RSVP'd with the seven of us, and your cousin already paid for the reception meal in full. We can't have an empty, wasted seat, Yn-ah.”

You frowned. You supposed that would be a problem then. “Why don't we just find someone to bring along as a plus-one?”

“That's what I was thinking,” she replied. “I was going to invite Rian, you know, the boy from next door.”

Somehow, your mood managed to sour further. You and Sakura made eye contact, and she tilted her head to the side in question. You gave her an emphatic thumb's down before replying to your mom, “Wait—can we—mom, can we not invite Rian?” You dragged your free hand down the side of your face, and you saw Sakura grimace when you said that guy's name.

“Why not?”

“Be… because,” you stammered, pushing out a sigh when you weren't sure how to describe your incredible disdain for your childhood next-door neighbor. He was your age, and fortunately, you were never matchmade with him. Unfortunately, he was a jerk with inferiority issues and delighted in competing with you in everything. “He wouldn't want to come with,” you said lamely. His presence would do the exact opposite of soothing your anxiety.

Sakura gestured with her hands. Tell her he's full of shit!

Oh, you wished.

“Yn.” Your mother could smell lies, even through the phone. “I wouldn't know who else to invite.”

“Daphne's partner!” You exclaimed desperately. Daphne was your older sister who attended another college on the other side of the city getting her master's degree. “Can't we invite Sam?”

“Sam's in Vietnam in December.”

“Goddamn it.”

“Yn.”

“Sorry.” Dear fuck, you were slipping. You needed a solution—anything at all. Something to put out one fire, even temporarily. “What if I came up with a plus one?” You regretted it immediately.

“Oh, like Sakura? I wouldn't mind if you brought her.”

Anyone but Rian, anyone but Rian. “Yeah,” you drawled. “That's who I had in mind.” You lifted your head to meet your friend's eyes again, and she knitted her brows in confusion. You mouthed that you would tell her in a moment.

When you and your mom hung up, you deflated in your chair, dropping your phone onto your chest. “I'm fucked.”

“Hit me with it.”

“I told her I would bring you to the wedding with us.”

Sakura sat there for a moment to process the information. “Yn, honey, I'm going to be in Japan in December.”

“I know,” you cried.

“Who are you bringing then?”

“I don't know.”

Murphy of Murphy's Law had better sleep with one eye open.

It was likely in your worst interest to be at the convenience store at midnight rather than in your bed asleep, attempting to let your brain process the concepts from your aerothermodynamics course. Against your better judgment, though, you were here, slumped over your usual table and seat as you watched YouTube and sipped on a box of chocolate milk.

In the distance, the door opened and closed, but the sound was muffled through your earbuds. Out of your peripherals, someone materialized next to you. You peered up at the tall man beside you now, blocking out the fluorescent LEDs from burning your eyes. “Hey,” you said quietly.

Younghoon took in your state with sad eyes. “I got your text.”

“I didn't think you'd be awake.” Didn't he have a rehearsal tomorrow morning? Or rather, later this morning.

“Well, I'm glad I was awake, for starters.” He frowned and then leaned over you to gently wrap you up in his arms. “Rough night?”

Your face was buried in the fabric of his hoodie. This was nice. “Rough everything.”

“Ah, one of those,” he sympathized. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Not really. Thank you for coming though.” You leaned back and patted the empty seat next to you. “Wanna watch squirrels with me?”

You watched his expression falter and fill with surprised amusement with a pinch of confusion. “Did you—you just said squirrels, right?”

“Yeah, they're competing in a backyard Olympics for this trophy of walnuts.”

He sat down with you to watch the squirrels. In your free time, you liked watching engineering or science-type videos on the internet. Most of them were as educational as they were entertaining, like the backyard squirrel series, where this man used his mechanical engineering degree to build advanced obstacles to test and observe the vast capabilities of the squirrel.

You shared your earbud with Younghoon so he could listen, and you were now connected by a wire. He mimicked your position, too, with his chin nestled onto his folded arms over the tabletop.

You weren't sure what possessed him to drive all the way over here at such an ungodly hour of night, but you were grateful for his company, nonetheless. Even if it felt like the sky was falling, you could let this moment in time exist outside the conventional timeline. It could be its own singular moment, just you and Younghoon.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wondered how it all came back to this. You'd never thought you were meant to see him again after tutoring him, let alone having spent so much time with him again these past few weeks. If you didn't belong in his world, and vice versa, then what was this?

You swore the monotonous buzzing from the lights above was making your eyelids slowly fall with the weight of lead.

Younghoon's eyes fluttered over to you just as you were about to doze off. He sat up and turned the video off. “Hey,” he whispered, gently shaking your arm.

You hummed, the bags under your eyes becoming worse by the second. “Huh?”

He chuckled under his breath as you put your head back down. “We can watch this another day,” he promised, patting your head. “We should get you home though so you can sleep.”

“Oh my gosh,” you groaned and picked yourself up, “you have rehearsal tomorrow morning—what time is it?”

“Hey, don't worry about it, love.” He was wrapping your earbud wire around his fingers into a neat, little bundle. “I'll be fine. Let's go home, though, yeah?”

You pressed your palms to your eyes in a desperate attempt to rehydrate them. “Okay, yeah. Sorry, Hoon.”

“Don't say sorry,” he cooed, pressing your earbuds into the palm of your hand and tucking your phone into your pocket. “I felt a lot better meeting you here. Do you feel a little better?”

You gave a small nod. Your brain was too muddled, too exhausted, to really comprehend what was being expressed as plain as the sun at high noon on his face.

“Then that's all that matters.” There was a pause. Your vision was blurry for the second that his eyes wandered somewhere else. You didn't know if you just didn't see it or if you just chose to not acknowledge it.

Then the moment passed, as all things did in the flow of nature, and he walked you home.

EPISODE SEVEN: PARTY PEOPLE (BBANGNYU'S VERSION)

“CHANHEE?”

Choi Chanhee swirled the straw of his melted iced americano around in its cup. “Yup.”

“Who would you invite to a wedding?” You posed, twirling around the mechanical pencil in your hand between your fingers. You didn't even know why you still had the writing utensil out—everyone had pretty much gone home for the evening.

He released a sigh indicative of a very tired data science major, who doubled-majored in math. “The person I'm marrying? I dunno.”

You and Chanhee were stuck with the late shift at the math tutoring center on a Monday night. The crowd usually cleared out by nine o'clock, but the two of you weren't technically allowed to leave until nine-thirty. Most nights when you were stuck with this shift, you and he didn't mind the quiet in order to finish assignments of your own.

Jungwoo would have been here to suffer with you, too, but he had an excuse tonight. Something about an emergency at the NCT fraternity house.

You blew a puff of air through your mouth. “Not your wedding; just a wedding. One that you're invited to.”

“You're not inviting me, are you?”

“You don't wanna be my plus one for a wedding?” You grinned.

“Depends…” He hummed pleasantly, “what're they serving?” That was a valid question that you lacked an answer to.

In front of you on your laptop screen sat your incomplete space grant application. After the hell that was last week, you somehow survived it by the seat of your pants. Now, you needed to focus on your two other exams for this week, the wedding debacle, this grant app, and praying that the interview had gone as well as you thought it had.

So many things to think about, so little brain cells.

You glanced over at the corner of your laptop screen to see how much time you had left to try and be productive. From the corner of your eye, you saw the swift movements of Chanhee's thumbs flying over his phone keyboard.

You turned to your application to read over your responses for the ten thousandth time. “Who've you been texting all night, Chanhee?”

“Huh? Oh, my best friend.”

You hummed. “The one that goes to the uni across the country, right?”

His response was cut off by the sound of the tutoring center doors opening. Both of you looked up in tandem, mentally bracing yourselves for—

“Younghoon?”

There was a weird fluttery feeling in your chest as he beamed at the both of you and bounded over from the front doors. “Hey guys! I was just walking past and thought I would swing by.”

Chanhee's eyebrows flew all the way up to his pink hairline. “Yes, because it makes complete sense why you would be meandering around south campus at nine o'clock at night,” he quipped.

Younghoon seemed, to his credit, unbothered by Chanhee pointing out the obvious. He stole one of the chairs from another table and sat down across from you and Chanhee. “You guys don't play any music when everyone's gone?”

“Sometimes we do,” you replied, glancing up from your computer screen before replacing your word choice somewhere.

Chanhee nodded his agreement as he set his phone down on the table and laced his fingers under his chin. “Oh, Younghoon-ah, I've been meaning to discuss something with you.”

Younghoon perked up. “What's up?”

“What're we gonna do about your friend and my friend?”

You figured out pretty quickly that you had no idea what they were talking about. Even after having played Monopoly with some of them a few weeks ago, it still hadn't hit you as to the full-scale of these two guys’ shared social circles. Sure, you orbited some friend groups of a decent size, but it felt like they all hung out with each other at least once a week.

“Ah,” Younghoon drawled with a knowing sparkle in his eyes, “Jacob and JC!Yn, right? I don't know; I find it kind of amusing.”

Chanhee frowned. A furrow had formed between his brows. “If amusing means to the extent where I'd like to rip my hair out, that is. Did you know that Jacob sent me to go intervene when Jaehyun was talking to JC!Yn at the hot tub?”

“Wait, really?”

“Mhm.” Chanhee made a vague flourish with his wrist in the air. “And did you see how they were at the movie night on Saturday?”

Younghoon pressed his lips together. “I did see that. He kept looking over when Juyeon was braiding her hair,” he chuckled.

“I am at odds, Younghoon-ah!” Chanhee groaned into his palms. “I just need them to kiss already and get it over with.”

“So you wanna meddle?”

“I'm not saying we should meddle, but…” He drawled with cheeky, puckered lips and his palms open upward. His gaze went to you on his right side, and he knocked the back of his knuckles against your arm. “Oy, Yn-ah. What do you think?”

You hummed and drew your eyes up from your laptop screen, meeting Younghoon's gaze first. Glancing over to the friend who addressed you, you said, “What are we talking about?”

“Girl, you need to get off that grant app.”

“This grant app needs to get off me,” you shot back. “I need it to be perfect, Chanhee.”

“Nothing is perfect, Yn,” he told you. “You know what you should do? You should ask JC!Yn to look over it. That might ease your mind.”

“I'll think about it,” you said at last in order to appease him. The smart thing would've been to heed his advice and ask his friend to proofread it. Perhaps you would later this week.

“Good. Anyways, I was asking you what you thought about how to matchmake our two friends,” resumed Chanhee. He tucked his limbs inward as he spun around in his chair.

“You’re going to have to give me more context than that.” Besides that, were you really the best option to ask for advice? You weren't in a relationship, and now that you thought about it, neither were the two of them.

You saw Chanhee and Younghoon exchange glances and there seemed to be a silent conversation taking place between the two of them. At last, Younghoon gave his counterpart a flourishing gesture with his hand as if saying 'all yours.’ Chanhee cleared his throat. “So Younghoon's friend Kevin, who is Jacob's best friend, introduced JC!Yn to Jacob.”

“And we're pretty sure they like each other,” Younghoon added on. “There was this pool party a couple weekends ago, and they came to the party together. This past weekend, they looked pretty cozy at the movie night that Jacob and Kevin hosted at their apartment, too.”

You had only ever met JC!Yn once in passing, and it was because Chanhee forgot his calculator at the library right before an exam, and she had been the champion to deliver it to him in the examination hall lobby. She was a real one, that was for sure.

You pursed your lips and rested your chin on your fist. “Aren't all of you guys single?” Was what you led with.

Chanhee deadpanned. “That's not the point…”

“I do have to point that out though because you ask me like I would know what to do,” you laughed, vaguely gesturing back to yourself. “I'm just as single as the rest of you.”

The two boys’ eyes whipped back to one another for a millisecond, before looking away.

You nearly leapt to your feet, exclaiming, “I saw that! What was that?”

“Nothing,” they answered at once. They did realize it made them look all the more conspicuous, right?

“We just realized that not all of us are single,” Younghoon raced to smooth over his and Chanhee's fib. “My friend Sangyeon—”

Chanhee snorted, “Hyunjae told me he doesn't believe him.”

“And you believe Hyunjae?”

“Touché.”

You unconsciously began spinning your pencil around your fingers again. “Wait, so Sangyeon is cuffed?”

Younghoon turned to you to explain. Apparently, his original group of friends that didn't include Chanhee's extension, kept a running joke that Sangyeon was either making up his girlfriend or was keeping her stashed on a secret island in the Bahamas. None of them had seen any evidence that she truly existed, but Younghoon wasn't convinced that Sangyeon was the type of person to go through all of this strife just to prove a point.

After all of that, you were more confused than before. “But why wouldn't he just show you a picture of her and prove that he met this girl?”

“That's what I'm saying,” Chanhee interjected, flinging his arms up in the air. “It would be so easy to just silence us with a little picture!”

Younghoon, clearly amused by the discourse taking place, leaned back in his chair with a shrug. “Beats me. I personally think it's because she works for a secret government agency, which is why she can't exist online.”

Chanhee's expression flattened. “Uh-huh.”

“But Juyeon says that it's probably because if he only shows a picture, we might accuse him of Photoshop,” Younghoon continued. “Which, in retrospect, says a lot about his faith in us.”

You made a face, your eyebrows arching high. “Oh, for sure.”

Debating on conspiracy theories about mystery girlfriends made the last thirty minutes of yours and Chanhee's shift fly by fast. Suffice to say, you hadn’t worked on your application nearly as much as you wanted to, but you were entertained for thirty minutes, which was just as well. Didn’t doctors say that it was good to laugh at least three times a day…? Good thing you weren’t going into medicine.

The three of you started packing everything up at exactly nine-thirty. There was no reason to stay any longer when there was literally no one else here anyway.

As you shoved your laptop into your backpack, Younghoon knocked on the table in front of you. “Wanna grab dinner after this?”

You opened your mouth to reply when Chanhee beat you to it. He hadn’t seen Younghoon grab your attention, and didn’t know who he was addressing. “Oh, that’s nice of you to as—”

“I meant Yn.”

You closed your eyes and sank your teeth into your bottom lip to have some dignity left (read: not start wheezing). Chanhee’s eyes had gone wide, eyebrows rocketing back up to his hairline. He scoffed, “Wow.”

Younghoon grinned cheekily. “Sorry, Chanhee. We have a routine.”

With Chanhee now thoroughly offended, your little trio filed out of the tutoring center. You locked the doors up behind you once you flicked off all the lights in the room. The walk down in south campus was arguably nicer than north campus, even if you were a little biased because this was where you considered your “turf” to be. South campus was much better illuminated than north campus with pretty, little lamp posts and five different styles of architecture from building to building. You were sure it was an eyesore to any of the architecture majors here, but they were interesting to look at when you were suffering in the engineering library. (And at least they had windows.)

You took up the position in between Younghoon and Chanhee, the latter of whom seemed to let his pettiness about the rejected dinner date go.

“Guys,” Younghoon suddenly said. The corner of his lips were turned upward in a degree you could only define as mischievous. “What is the most terrifying word in physics?”

You scrunched your brows together. There was no way you should get this wrong, but then again, physics wasn't exactly a subject where anyone got everything right—

“Oops.”

You snorted, and beside you, Chanhee's lip wobbled as he desperately held in a reaction. You couldn't believe you didn't see this coming and tried to think about it logically.

Younghoon shoved his hands in his pockets and swiped his tongue over his lower lip through a smile. “Aw, come on! I cracked up when I heard that one in a TikTok for the first time.”

“I've just heard some of your better ones,” you confessed. “Chanhee, did I tell you that Younghoon used to wax poetic to study for calc?”

Chanhee's mouth curled up into an amused little smile. “You did! I think it's cute.”

“You know, I think it's cute, too.”

In the dim lighting from the nearby lamp posts, Younghoon's cheekbones flushed something rosy. “You flatter me.”

As the three of you climbed up the stairs that would bring you to main campus, Chanhee piped up, “What if we just slipped Jacob and JC!Yn notes from the other person?”

You shook your head. “Not this again.”

“I'm serious!” He said in earnest. “It would just be innocent, little pick-up lines or something. Nothing like a whole ass confession.”

“We're reading Much Ado About Nothing in my Shakespeare lecture right now,” said Younghoon, “and the cast does something similar to one of the couples they're trying to get together. Sounds kind of fun, to be honest.”

“Not you, too!”

Younghoon slung an arm around your shoulders and flourished his free arm out toward the heavens. There was a pleasant feeling attached to the weight of his arm around you. “C’mon, use that mastermind brain of yours and imagine! Jacob's would just say something like—I dunno—if I whispered in thine ear that thou hast a body of beauty, wouldst thou hold it against me?”

“Wow,” you marveled, ignoring the amount of fluttering happening in your stomach, “that was pretty good.”

He flashed you a boyish smile. “Thank you.”

“But you're not doing it.”

The boys on either side of you released twin groans of anguish into the night, as if their mother had just denied them access to their Xbox for the evening. You rolled your eyes lightly. “I feel like relationships are like spontaneous processes—they’ll get to the right configuration eventually, organically. In other words, we should leave them be and let them figure it out for themselves.” You walked in front and turned around to face them so you could pin them both down with a firm look.

Younghoon raised his arms up in playful surrender. “Promise we won't meddle.”

“I hate when you use entropy statistics against me.” Chanhee gave a reluctant nod, sighing once again, “But I agree. We won’t meddle.”

EPISODE EIGHT: DON'T ASK ME THE COLOR OF ANYTHING

IT was the Star Trek theme song that blasted you out of your study bubble. In retrospect, the theme song was quite a subdued piece compared to something like the Star Wars theme, but for some reason you thought it was a good idea to turn the volume all the way up for your ringer whenever you were home. (God forbid you accidentally left it on when you were in class…) From your desk, you scooted over to grab your phone from where it was on your bed. Younghoon's caller ID beamed its cute smile up at you—the picture you'd set was of him and his dog from home, Bori. You had yet to meet Bori, but when you asked him for a picture for his contact photo, he sent this one.

You accepted the call. “Hello?”

“I just realized I pressed Call instead of Facetime. Please accept the Facetime thingy.”

Why did he sound so cute? You lifted the phone away from your ear and saw the request on the screen. While pressing the green accept button, you said to him, “What if I said no?”

“Then it must be Opposite Day,” he sang from the other side of the screen, his face manifesting before you. He was holding his phone up above him so you could see he was lying down in bed, his dark hair strewn over the pillow beneath his head. His initial smile widened to reach his eyes when your side of the screen loaded and he could see you. “There she is.”

“Hi Hoon,” you greeted with a small chuckle. You looked around your cluttered workspace for a place to prop your phone up against.

“What're you up to?” He asked while he adjusted himself to sit up against his headboard.

“I—” you made a sound of accomplishment as your phone stayed upright in the space between your desk lamp and a pebble paperweight painted like a rocket that your little sister made you, “—am brushing up on fluid mechanics.”

“Aah… fluid mechanics.” You could hear the slight intonation in his words.

“Don't say the joke.”

“I wasn't gonna say the joke!” He giggled. When he calmed, he pressed his mouth in a smile and made his cheeks look as squishy as a loaf of bread. “Is this a bad time though?”

You shook your head, slipping your pencil behind your ear so you could lace your fingers beneath your chin. “No, it’s not a bad time. This isn’t super important; I just didn’t want old material to jumpscare me when I go into our quiz this week.”

Younghoon nodded in understanding. “I see, I see. That means it’s good that I interrupted your workaholic tendencies.”

You glanced away with your hand half covering your face, and it coaxed a laugh from him that seemed to warm the room. You sputtered, “In my defense—” you paused, your lips parted; it hit you then that you had no defense.

His eyes were the shapes of upturned crescent moons, like shallow bowls filled with mirth. “It’s cute when you try to deny it.”

“It’s not denial—I didn’t deny it,” you pointed out.

“Uh-huh,” he snorted, completely unconvinced, “whatever you say, Miss Mastermind. I should call you Miss Workaholic instead.”

“Aish,” you chided weakly. You glanced down at the old notes that were splayed out before you on your desk. All of the concepts were relatively familiar to you; it was just to refresh yourself. To be frank, though, it wasn’t like you’d spent all evening reviewing old material. Every thirty minutes or so, you could spend another half hour on your phone, getting lost in the entertainment there. You weren’t that much of a workaholic.

You realized that there had been a pregnant moment of silence just then, and when you looked back over at the phone screen, found him watching you with a certain look in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place. You cleared your throat, reaching up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear and to take the pencil there down. “So, uhm, any reason in particular for calling?”

His eyelashes fluttered as he blinked, as if snapping out of a daze. “Hm? Oh, not really. I just wanted to see what you were up to.” He cocked his head to the side in thought. “Random question, but are you doing anything for Halloween?”

Ah, you nearly forgot that was coming up. With all of the chaos happening in your life at the moment, Halloween was the last thing on your mind.

“Not at the moment,” you told him. You mused, “I don’t think I’ve done anything proper for Halloween since I moved out of my childhood house.” Going Trick-or-Treating as an adolescent was definitely a core memory for you, and was still a prevalent tradition in your household because of the little ones, Sadie and Quincey. As you got older, however, you usually opted to stay at home and answer the door to hand out candy. You still dressed up for the fun of it, and decorating the house was always half the joy of the holiday. You always considered trying to build some kind of candy contraption or maybe setting up a haunted maze in the front lawn, but alas, maybe in the future. “What about you?”

“Well, there’s that party that Changmin and Chanhee are hosting at their place.”

That rang a bell. “Ohh, shit. I totally forgot about that.” Chanhee had mentioned something about that the other night at the tutoring center, but you didn’t make any promises about attending—he knew your crowd preferences, so he didn’t push it. You were sure his and his friend’s parties were a blast though.

Younghoon shifted his lounging position, so now he was laying on his stomach with his legs kicking up from behind him. “Would you wanna come with? I remember that you went to that party with Sakura in September, but I wasn’t sure if you were going to come to this one.”

You tapped the end of your pencil against the pages of your notebook. “I’m not really sure,” you confessed. “I think I originally didn’t plan on going.”

“Ah.”

Guilt swirled around in the pit of your stomach at the disappointment in his voice. “I’m sorry; I probably sound like such a party pooper.”

“No, don’t worry about it,” he rushed to assure you. “I get that it might not be something you’re into, and that’s completely fine, you know? I think it would be fun to go with you, but not if you wouldn’t have fun there.”

You inhaled deeply. “I mean… it’s not that I don’t think I would have fun once I—y’know, drank something—but yeah, I think a night of just horror movies or something will do me better.”

He nodded and carded a hand through his hair. “Of course; I understand. And your schedule’s been pretty packed lately, so it’ll be like a little break for you,” he offered.

“Yeah, thanks, Hoon.” You shot him a small smile. It was really cool that he was being so understanding, but you shouldn’t have anticipated anything less from Kim Younghoon. He’d always been this cool.

You learned to read the room, and the energy definitely was lower than before. “Do you know what you’re gonna go dressed as?” You asked in hopes of bringing that energy back up.

He perked up a bit at the question. “I—actually, I have no idea,” he chuckled. “I was thinking a vampire, but I feel like that should just be saved as my backup. That idea’s a little tired.”

Younghoon as a vampire—? Wake up, Yn. You laughed to yourself as a thought popped into your head. “It would be so funny if you showed up as Bill Nye the Science Guy.”

He snorted. “That's not a bad idea. I'm not a science guy, but I am an actor.”

“Hey, there you go,” you said. You pursed your lips. “Hm… I feel like your face is too pretty to fuck up—”

“Thanks?” He guffawed, hand propping his head up. “I'm scared to ask you what that even means.” You didn’t want to tell him exactly what you had in mind, but it seemed that he beat you to a punchline. “To be honest, I'd so let you fuck up my face.”

Your eyes widened. “What?”

“Hyunjae? Hyunjae, is that you?” Younghoon called out behind him toward his closed bedroom door. His ears were rosy as blood, and he was biting his lip through a grin. “I've gotta go, Yn-ie. Byeee!”

“Younghoon, hey! Don't hang—”

He hung up. You took a moment to collect yourself after what he said, as if you could even begin to unpack its meaning.

You could hear the partygoers even from the relative serenity of the back corner of the convenience store. It was Halloween night, and when the sun sank down into the horizon to signal the coming of night, so too did it mark the beginning of the Hallow's Eve festivities.

You had just dropped Sakura off at one of her friends’ house for a party, and she would text you later when she was done. The plan tonight was originally to chill at home and watch scary movies, but you instead found yourself at your second home with your laptop playing The Nightmare Before Christmas. On your head sat a deep purple colored witch's hat on a headband, with glittery black tulle creating a skirt at its base. Even if you didn't dress up completely, you would still pop on a bit of holiday spirit.

With you was a 6-pack of Halloween themed mini cupcakes and a carton of strawberry milk. They would function as your popcorn for the movie and your candy for the night.

From beside you on the table, your phone buzzed. You could see the words diffuse rapidly onto your screen, your eyes snagging on the parts where your older sister was asking about Sakura coming to the wedding even though she was supposed to be in Japan. Your eyes widened as you scrambled to text back. Fuck, the wedding. You texted back a very fast, ‘uhm abt that.’

daphne: ykw don't tell me anything ignorance is bliss daphne: okay what i came here to do originally… daphne: *sent images* your phone: awwwh how cute!! wait wtf since when was quincey into power rangers 😭😭 daphne: dear god don't get me started

You laughed and sent her a final text back commenting about the pictures she sent of her, Sam, Sadie, and Quincey all dressed up to go Trick-or-Treating tonight. As usual, your family extended an invitation to you, but you declined for this year.

“Damn, I should've dressed up like the power rangers.”

You nearly jumped out of your skin at the sudden voice right by your ear, and you ripped your earbud out, whipping around to see who it was. There was Younghoon, laughing at your expense with a very amused smile flitting over his face from your reaction.

About five different emotions passed over you at once, preventing you from coming up with an adequate response to his sudden appearance. Your mouth, frankly, had gone dry. His hair was colored and highlighted with strands of platinum silver, artfully arranged around a pair of black sunglasses atop his head. He was clad in all black—the leather jacket seated on his shoulders embellished with white detailing, and his skin glimmering with silver chains. He had on a pair of motorcycle gloves that he was now shucking off, and you realized his lips were a shade darker than they usually were—wait… were they moving?

“—Yn. Yn-iee—”

You blinked long and hard. “Yeah. I'm here.”

The corner of his lips curled upward. “I just said I was sorry for sneaking up on you.”

“Oh.” Wait, he smelled so good right now… Not that he didn't smell good every other day, but…

“Oh,” he parroted with a cock of his eyebrow. “So, what do you think?” He asked the question you didn't even realize you would fear him to ask, and gestured down to the outfit. Younghoon sighed and it sounded half like a laugh. “I feel ridiculous actually. Hyunjae was like—you should do the biker thing with me. And I was like, what do you mean 'biker thing?’ Apparently this is the biker thing.”

You were slapping yourself across the face internally to say something. “You went from Prius driver to motorcycle rider.”

Younghoon nearly keeled over and had to turn to the side to laugh. “I still am a Prius driver,” he said sheepishly.

Your eyes flickered up and down his form again, unable to string together words once more. “Uhm, your hair is silver.”

“Excellent observation.” He reached over and poked the little witch hat on top of your head. “This is cute, by the way.”

“Thanks,” you said with a smile, reaching up to touch either side of the headband. “I'm just here waiting for Kkura.”

“Oh, are you guys watching something together?”

You shook your head and turned back to your computer screen to wake it up. “No, I volunteered to be her chauffeur tonight. She's at a party right now, but I figured since I had time to kill, I could chill here.”

“It feels like a crime for you to be here all alone,” he said with one of his hands braced against the back of your chair and the other on the table next to your laptop. He was leaning over you now to peer at your screen because the brightness of the store lights made it difficult to see from where he stood, but it made him all the more apparent to your senses.

Goddamn, he was everywhere. “Well, I should be asking you as to why you're here,” you said with a cough. “Don't you have a party to go to, Biker Boy?”

He chuckled at the nickname and stood back up. “I do, but Chanhee and Changmin forgot to get triple A batteries for their battery-operated creepy candy bowl,” he said. “But I'm glad I was sent out to run an errand now.”

You shifted your mouth to the side in a sorry attempt to hide your contentment with that answer. “I'm glad, too. You—the costume looks good, by the way.”

Younghoon sat down in his usual seat across from you. “Thank you,” he replied, pleased. “I almost went out as a loaf of bread. Did you know Party City has these bread loaf costumes that you can wear around your head?”

“I'm not surprised at all,” you said, shaking your head in amusement.

You found yourself unhappy with the idea of Younghoon leaving after this. Once your conversation was over, you would go back to your movie and he would go back to his party. Before, you didn't mind the idea of having an evening to yourself, but with him right here in front of you, it was difficult to go back.

Him being here with you felt right. You couldn't explain why you felt that way. He looked like he was about to say something, and you rushed to beat him to it. “Want a cupcake?” You blurted. Before you could go back on your words, you gently pried a miniature cupcake out from its containment and offered it to him.

Younghoon lit up, delicately transferring the treat to his own hands. “I wasn't going to ask, but don't mind if I do. Thanks, Yn.”

You hummed happily as he peeled off the cupcake wrapper and took a generous bite. He did a little happy dance in his seat, and you smiled half into your fist as you leaned part of your cheek onto it.

“That's actually so good,” he said with wide, confused eyes as he reached toward the furthest end of the table for a napkin in the aluminum canister. “Why haven't I tried those before? I think I'm gonna have to take some back.”

“I don't have them often, but they are quite the guilty pleasure,” you agreed. “I would totally sponsor a couple packs for you to take to the party.”

Younghoon made a nodding motion with his head as he dabbed the napkin over his lips. He pulled the napkin away to inspect it, frowning. “Shit, I need to reapply,” he murmured and fished around in his jacket pocket for a tube of the shade that he had wiped off his lips.

Some force from the universe compelled you to do something fucking stupid. “I can help.” No, you can't! Why would you say that, why would you say—

Surprise flickered across his face. “Oh? Sure, I'd appreciate it,” he said, and held the lip gloss out to you. It was a muted brown-ish pink color that would leave a stain of itself upon the wearer's lips, but also had an initial glossy appearance.

With no room for backpedaling, you stood up and took the lip product from him. You stood before him now, between his legs with his hands resting on his knees.

He peered up at you through his dark lashes, lips parted gently.

You wiped the excess product off the doe foot applicator against the rim of the packaging, and then smeared the product over his bottom lip. You took your finger to smudge the color around, making quick work with a second layer for shine. When you were done, you hadn't even realized you'd been holding your breath the whole time. You passed the lip product back to him quietly. “All done,” you whispered.

He didn't even look at your handiwork—he didn't need to. He smiled; you thought you saw him steal a glance at some place other than your eyes. “Thanks, love.”

You were right before when you thought you would dread him leaving. He did go, at some point, after retrieving what he had come here for along with at least three half-dozen containers of cupcakes. He sent you a wave from the door, and then he was gone into the night.

You sat there without doing much or thinking anything for a moment or two, your fingertips stained with the color of his lips.

Regret wormed a hole through your stomach, and it felt like it was gaping wide open. Maybe you should've gone to the party, or maybe you should have asked him to stay. Maybe you should have said something different, and maybe… maybe you should have…

Kissed him?

Your eyes stared unblinkingly at the seat across the table from you, and you arrived at a truth you could no longer ignore.

your phone: how do u know u like a guy

kkuramon &lt;3 : IM LEAVING THIS PARTY RIGHT NOW.

EPISODE NINE: ARE YOU A CHICKEN, YN? I DIDN'T THINK SO!

“I'M not going to tell him.”

“Yn,” Sakura said gravely with a deep inhale, “for the last time, are you a chicken?”

You blinked. “I'm sorry, wha—”

“Bawk bawk. Are you a chicken?”

You narrowed your eyes slightly at her. It was a crazy image, this view of your best friend, as she stood in front of you with her futuristic spacecore outfit from the Halloween party she left early, squawking like a chicken. “I think you are drunk.”

Sakura deadpanned. “I'm not drunk.”

“And I'm in denial.”

“Oh, good. So you admit it.”

After rapid discourse in your texts, you went to pick Sakura up from her party, then brought her straight home so you could both deconstruct what exactly you concluded while at the convenience store. You recalled everything that happened while Younghoon was there with you, reliving that exact moment it hit you square in the face like an oncoming train.

And now you were here, being asked if you were a chicken and being accused of denial.

You huffed. “I can't just tell him that I like him! It's not—it’s not that big of a deal. It's not like I'm in love with him or anything!” You… you weren't in love, were you…?

Sakura braced both hands on her hips. “You say it's not a big deal, but here we are,” she said with a vague gesture to your bedroom. “Honey,” she continued, but softer, “whether you're in love with him or you just like him more than a friend, it's something. It's different. Are you sure you never felt anything for him before? Not even unconsciously?”

“I mean—” you started, “—I might have. I probably have,” you corrected, cradling your chin in your palm. “I thought he was really cool when I met him last year, but I think that was just one of those silly crushes, y'know? Like the ones you get on people you pass by and know you probably won't meet again?”

She hummed and lowered herself onto the edge of your bed. “Yeah, I get that.”

You scooted your desk chair over to where she was and flopped face first over your bed with a groan. You felt her hand gently smooth down the back of your head. “I dunno, Kkura. Maybe I've always felt something different about him.”

“That could be it,” she said. “And you just didn't realize until it was in your face. Sometimes it sneaks up on you.”

If that wasn't the understatement of the century.

“Why are you so scared of telling him, Yn-ie? From everything I've seen and heard from you, it feels like he probably feels the same way.”

“I'm biased.”

Sakura exhaled. “Logic your way out of this one.”

“Okay, if I logic my way out of this one, I could still get rejected.”

You could feel her eyes roll, even with your face smooshed into the sheets. “I know the prospect of all this is scary, but it's meant to be. That means you care, Yn. That means you care about your friendship with Younghoon, and that's inherently a good thing.”

When you didn't say anything else in response, she added, “You know your feelings will intensify if you leave them unaddressed. Murphy's Law.”

You hated when she was right.

You didn't see Younghoon for at least another week. Once Halloween had gone and passed, November hit everyone in one big fell swoop. Midterms the Sequel was abound, and it did not choose mercy. But amongst the abundance of fires cropping up, you managed to spray some water on a couple to keep the flames tame. (Do not do this to real fires; it won't help.)

It was the middle of the week when you and Younghoon agreed to meet back at the convenience store to hang out. Over the past few days, you kept your interactions with him over text and call as normal as possible, even though you felt like your newly realized feelings were glaringly obvious. If Younghoon thought you were being awkward though, he didn't say.

You and Sakura were in the kitchen right before you were about to take off to head to the convenience store. She was busy making a late lunch (read: dinner); you were busy worrying about everything.

“I've got an idea,” she said, raising the spatula in her hand into the air. “You should bring Younghoon to the wedding.”

You nearly choked on air. “I'm sorry? Say that again.”

With her back turned to you, she gave an emphasized shrug. “If you insist. I was suggesting that you bring Younghoon to the wedding instead of me. It would be killing two birds with one stone.”

“How in the world is that killing two birds with one stone?”

“Well, when you inevitably confess your feelings to him, and he confesses that he reciprocates, you will then have a date for the wedding.” She turned the stove off before twirling around on her slippered-heel, a proud smile on her face. “Ta-da!”

“I just think that if—and big emphasis on if—we do end up together, a wedding would be a lot as an outing.” You imagined how horrific and intimidating that would be, meeting your entire family and extended family after only just deciding to try out dating someone. Even thinking about it sounded overwhelming beyond means, and you couldn't do that to Younghoon.

She angled her head to the side. “But this is Younghoon we're talking about. He literally went to the Space Gala with you on short notice and made you feel safe and comfortable the whole time.”

You sent her a pointed look. “That's not the same thing and you know it.”

She sighed. “Alright. Then what about driving over to meet you at the convenience store at midnight when he had an early rehearsal the next day? He calls you and texts you day and night; he drops by the tutoring center on your shifts to keep you company… I don't know what else you need to convince you.”

You didn't like the spark of hope she was lighting up in your chest. You didn't want to lose a good friend if you were reading him wrong. Was he not charismatic to everyone he met though?

At some point, you got your ass up and down the street. There was a soft tune playing in the background as you wandered through the aisles in search of something to distract you from the anxious racing of your heartbeat. Younghoon had sent you a heads up about an hour ago that he was going to be late because he was coming from an outing, so you had a little more time to mentally prepare. Maybe you would chalk up the courage to tell him. Maybe you really could do it. If you just ripped off the bandaid, whether it be for better or for worse, you could at least say you tried.

You made up your mind then, somewhere in the bread aisle between the wheat and rye.

By the time Younghoon arrived, out of breath and grinning from ear to ear, you managed to hype yourself up to tell him.

“Sorry I'm late,” he said between breaths as he claimed the seat across from you. He paused, sniffing, then grimacing. “And also for the fact that I reek of barbeque.”

“Don't worry about it,” you assured him, teasingly, “the only thing you should be sorry about is not inviting me.”

Younghoon laughed. “You're very right, as always. My friends and I were having an emergency meeting about Jacob and JC!Yn.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh? Any updates?”

He groaned then, burying his face into the palms of his hands. Uh oh. “They almost kissed until Eric interrupted them.”

“No,” you gasped.

“Yes!” He wailed in agony, eyes screwed closed with imaginary tears running down his cheeks. “It was painful to hear but it was also painful watching those two idiots interact at the table. My friends and I, minus JC!Yn and Jacob—we met a little beforehand to talk about what went down when Eric interrupted, and the lovebirds just came in later.” Younghoon huffed a rough sigh from his lips, partnered with a shake of his head. Then he broke into a smile, the corners of the expression soft, as he looked at you from across the table. He rested his cheek against his hand, chin inclining toward you, “So what's going on with you, hm? I feel like we haven't seen each other in ages.”

“We did call on Tuesday,” you pointed out.

He wrinkled his nose with a frown and shrugged. “It's not the same. I missed you.”

Your heart was beating so loud that you could count them out—thump, thump, thump— “I—missed you, too,” you said in earnest. Tell him, Yn. Tell him.

“You know, I think it's funny how we lost touch for so long, but we eventually came back together,” he murmured as he absentmindedly traced out shapes along the table top. “I guess if it's meant to be, then it'll be.”

The way he worded it… you were spinning yourselves in circles in your head trying to define it, to crack it open and solve it like you could a word problem. If the rotator wheel spins at a velocity of—but at this point, you were certain that you could figure out one of those much faster than this. “Yeah,” you agreed quietly.

“Something on your mind, Yn?” He asked you then. His eyes returned to you and you were suddenly stuck. The earth stopped spinning for this single moment in time, all because of the way this man looked at you.

You swallowed. “I…” The words dissipated in your throat. You couldn't do it.

Younghoon waited patiently, though. He considered you and your wide eyes filled with something he didn't know how to label, and maybe a dash of another thing he hoped to find. “Why don't we take a walk?”

With no reason to refuse, you stood up from your seat with him. He smiled at you as he brushed his hand over your back to guide you to the door, then retracted it to tuck his hand into his pocket.

November had so far shown the city a brisk, deep autumn. The trees were already close to completely shedding their leaves for the oncoming winter, and they were often swept away by a cool draft. You zipped up your jacket as the two of you began walking in the direction opposite to your apartment. Whichever way the wind took you both, you supposed.

For the first time in a long time, you and Younghoon were quiet. You were trapped in your own head with the courage you had earlier having mysteriously disappeared. He seemed content enough to let you ponder on it and to speak whenever you were ready.

“My cousin is getting married,” you found yourself saying.

That didn't seem to be the thing he expected to come from your mouth. Surprise flashed across his features and he clambered for a response. “Oh, well, congratulations. When's the wedding?”

“Thanks.” You said, “It’s in December. I… you know I have a big family.”

“Right.” His gaze softened considerably. “I imagine it must be a lot for you then—a family event of that size.”

You realized that you didn't convey exactly what you wanted to get across, and yet, you were reminded again how much he cared. “Yeah,” you murmured. “My brother Justin isn't gonna be able to make it after we already RSVP'd under my immediate family of seven people, and so my mom and I are trying to find someone to fill that space. She wanted to invite this one guy—he was my next-door neighbor for some time. Not my favorite person in the world because he's kind of got it out for me,” you said next.

You were rounding the corner again to loop back down the street toward your apartment. The organ in your chest was flying against your ribcage now; there wasn't much time left to tell him. You could see the metaphorical sand in the glass draining.

“So you're not going to invite this guy then, right?”

You nodded. “And I offered up Sakura just to appease her for the time being, but Sakura's gonna be in Japan in December.”

Younghoon trapped his bottom lip between his teeth. “I see.”

“That's my… that's my dilemma.” No, that isn't your only dilemma, Yn! Tell him! But the apartment was coming up in view, and you would be at the entrance in just a few more minutes.

You and Younghoon slowed your pace as you rounded the block again to cross the street. When you glanced over at him, you swore you could see the conflict warring across his face. If he saw gears turn in your head, you could see a battle scene in his eyes.

“Is this all that's been bothering you?” He asked at last, and you didn't know what to do about the slight intonation in his voice, like he was hoping for something. “I'm not invalidating your stress or anything, I was just—you know, if you had anything else you needed to get off your chest—”

“No, it's just that.” You could practically hear Sakura clucking like a chicken from wherever she was. You quickly added as the apartment door came into view, “It's—it’s not a big deal—finding a plus one, I mean. I'll figure it out.”

Plus one. He'd been your plus one to the Space Gala, but this was different. This was so much more different than that.

But maybe your words sounded like a dismissal or he was thrown off today. He cupped the back of his neck with a small nod. “Okay. If you need anything, let me know.”

“Thanks, Hoon.”

He smiled then, the same soft-cornered one that reached his eyes, and that you'd come to be familiar with. You couldn't imagine seeing that face reject your feelings even if you knew he would probably let you down easily.

EPISODE TEN: YOU SPELL PARALLELISM WITH THREE L'S BECAUSE THERE ARE THREE LOSERS

THE engineering library at nine o'clock at night was a familiar environment for you, Chanhee, and Jungwoo. Dead week—the week before finals—meant that it saw the three of you twice as much, even on the weekend before Dead week began. It didn't mean you got studying done though. Sometimes you were just there.

“You guys are so fake! How could I not be updated on every single microevent in your lives?” Jungwoo cried, gesticulating his hands around far too fast for your brain to comprehend. He was about three shots of espresso and five hours in, if that explained things. You were all aware that your habits were not healthy, but no college kid was. “And you call me your friend?”

The thing that had triggered this reaction from Jungwoo had been Chanhee's fault. Or maybe that was your fault. Either way, the topic somehow had gone from calculating your respective grades with probable curves (calculating failure, at this rate) to you and Younghoon.

You liked to argue there was no you and Younghoon—it was just you-comma-Younghoon. Chanhee had sassed back at you with a swift, “Oh, so she's an English major now?” As if English majors were the only ones who could understand grammar and punctuation.

Jungwoo, having had no context given whatsoever, realized quickly that he was out of the loop. Now, you were here.

“I demand the tea!” He screeched, hitting the palm of his hand against the table. Thank god there was no one else here to listen in or shush you and your friends. If there was one thing about the engineering library, it was how out of the way it was from the main campus.

“I really don't think you should have anything else caffeinated—”

Jungwoo's head whipped toward you and his nostrils were flared. “You must think you're so funny,” he said with narrowed eyes and a saccharine smile. You would have been scared had you not seen this man once blow a massive snot bubble all over his differential calculus homework. (If anyone found out about that, it most definitely didn’t come from your lips…)

Your eyes shuddered, an innocent smile coming to your lips. “I was just saying.”

“Shuuush!” He stopped, thought about it, then retracted. “Actually, don't shush. Tell me what you and Chanhee know, but I don't.”

Chanhee snorted from his side of the table. “That's a long list.”

Jungwoo cut a glare toward Chanhee. “I despise you both,” he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Okay, but all jokes aside,” Chanhee said as he tucked his tablet stylus behind his ear. He cocked a high-arched brow your way. “What is going on, Yn? Do update us. Or for Jungwoo’s sake, start from the beginning.”

Your eyes widened like a deer in headlights. You hadn’t expected Chanhee to turn on you, too, but perhaps you should have seen this coming. A generous amount of time had passed since you last failed to confess your feelings to one Kim Younghoon. Between that day and today, you had managed to finally submit your space grant application and passed your second round of midterms by the seat of your pants (hip, hip, hooray). Since that day, you and Younghoon would continue to interact as normal, except for the fact that you were practically walking on eggshells around him.

Just the other day, you both fell asleep while on-call with each other. When you’d woken up the morning afterward, you discovered that, one, it was a good thing you plugged your phone into its charging cord; and two, that Younghoon was just as pretty asleep as he was awake.

To this news, Chanhee merely fluttered his lengthy lashes, unimpressed. “And you’re telling me you don’t think he feels the same way?” He asked.

At some point, Jungwoo had broken out a half-eaten granola bar from his bag to munch on as a replacement for popcorn. “I can’t believe I’ve missed so much,” he said, shoving the bite into his cheek so he could speak. “And Kim Younghoon, Yn? Wooooow, I see you girl. That guy was insane as Charles Bingley in freshman year.”

“You’re so right,” Chanhee chimed in with an indulgent nod, pointing his stylus at Jungwoo. “I don’t know if insane was the right word, but he encapsulated the Bingley gent essence quite nicely.”

“I never saw that one,” you confessed.

Jungwoo’s face scrunched up on one side. “Clearly. At least he knows that you’re not just in it for his celebrity status.”

You leaned back in your chair and dragged your hands down the length of your face with an embarrassed groan. Only your guy friends; Chanhee and Jungwoo, as expected, gave a light laugh at your expense. “I don't like you guys.”

“C’mon Yn-ie,” Chanhee teased and reached over to poke your arm with the butt of his stylus pen. When you peeked one eye out between your fingers, he puckered his lips at you like a penguin. “Love you.”

You reluctantly slid your hands down. “If I'm gonna be clowned for my feelings, I'd rather be in bed!” You declared, taking your phone from the pile at the center of the table to check the time. It was nearly ten o'clock at this rate. Ah, and had anything productive been done? Absolutely none. Perfectly on track for the three of you.

“Nooo, don't go, Yn! You're too sexy,” Jungwoo whined.

“I think you should tell Younghoon your feelings,” said Chanhee. He hiked his feet onto the chair, hugging his knees to his chest. “You need to razz him up.”

You frowned. “I thought it was ‘rizz.’”

“You don't have rizz, though, so I thought razz would be the next best thing,” he said flippantly.

“Burn!” Jungwoo exclaimed with his hand cupped around his mouth, and you were suddenly reminded that he was in a frat.

You leaned your cheek against the palm of your hand with a dramatic sigh. “You're right; I do not have rizz.”

Chanhee's brows scrunched together in concern. “Oh my god, I thought you would fight back—of course, you have rizz, Yn! You snagged Kim Younghoon!”

Before you could tell him you’d given up on fighting back or before Jungwoo could give up on his sanity, Chanhee's phone buzzed from where it was sitting at the center of the table. You expected it to be Chanhee's friend, CH!Yn, since she was the most probable person texting at this hour; instead, Chanhee let out a delighted gasp, slapping his hand to his mouth at whatever notification he found waiting for him.

Both you and Jungwoo leapt to your feet and scrambled to peer over his shoulders. “What? Who is it?”

“It's JC!Yn,” he shrieked. “She's asking about flower shops.”

You and Jungwoo stayed perched over either of Chanhee's shoulders to see what would transpire. It was a brief exchange within the group chat of three people that included JC!Yn, Changmin, and Chanhee. Chanhee somehow knew about a flower shop in the university district that was open until eleven o'clock. After all your years of attending this school, you had no idea it even existed.

But once JC!Yn was off on her way, Chanhee turned his phone off with a prediction that he would not be hearing from her until at least tomorrow morning. “Looks like someone's getting confessed to tonight,” he snickered to himself.

Jungwoo was back in his original seat—a generous wording, since he leaned a good eighty percent of his body over the table with his knees braced on the chair, legs kicking up behind him. “You know what you should do, Yn? You should sweep Younghoon off his feet just like that. I'm sure he adores receiving flowers.”

“Would it not be as special though if he gets flowers after every show?” You asked genuinely, pressing the butt of your pen between your lips. “I'm not against getting him flowers.” Flowers would be a good idea… you'd seen plenty of movies that had romanticized the idea of giving and receiving flowers in your mind, and it would be an obvious gesture. At the very least, you could pull a Younghoon and tell him the flowers reminded you of him because they were gorgeous—or something to that effect. Maybe you really didn't have rizz…

Jungwoo shrugged with one of his shoulders. “I'm sure it would be special coming from you. I dunno. It's just something to think about.”

“So,” Juyeon drawled with his head lolling over the back of the couch to look over at Younghoon, “now that Jacob's situation is solved, what about you?”

Younghoon glanced up from his phone. “What about me?”

There were five of them holed up in Sangyeon's apartment presently, and four of them had invaded the eldest friend's abode to hoard his TV and play Super Smash Brothers. He was the only one with a working TV and decent WiFi to game on that wasn't Jacob and Kevin's apartment. Only, a couple hours in, Juyeon received a text message from Eric with a live update that JC!Yn was going to confess to Jacob.

Eric had ended his update with an ominous: Tell Kevin hyung he shouldn't go home tonight 🤣. That definitely livened up the place.

Kevin sat up from where he had been lying on the floor. “Oh, yo, you're so right. What's going on with you and Yn?”

Younghoon's eyes widened. “Nothing.”

“Don't give us that bullshit,” Hyunjae clicked his tongue in disapproval. “Didn't you say that you liked her?” He teased with a glint in his eyes as he wiggled his fingers Younghoon's way.

The man at the heart of the interrogation rolled his eyes and smacked Hyunjae's hand away. “I will not object to having said that I liked her, if that's what you're getting at.” Frankly, he would own up to having admitted that was how he felt about you. So what, he liked you? He wasn't embarrassed by it. The only problem was living with this knowledge and not telling you.

Sangyeon came over from the kitchen to lean against the back of the couch. He had a drink in hand, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “Do you have a plan or are you gonna pull a Jacob and be a chicken?”

Kevin arched a high brow. “Only I can call Cobie a chicken, thank you very much.” He turned on Younghoon next with an accusing finger. “And you—I can't even go home right now, so let's get down to business.”

Younghoon blinked. “What business—”

“Order in the court!” Juyeon interjected. He grinned like a bunny. “Sorry, I know I have to wait until I'm a lawyer first, but it's just so fun to say.”

Sangyeon sputtered a laugh against the rim of his drink, blindly patting Juyeon on the head. “It's cool, man. Very appropriate timing.”

“We should play Marvin Gaye,” said Hyunjae. “It'll get us in the mood to tell Younghoon how to properly woo somebody.”

Younghoon swore his face was probably the shade of a ripe tomato. This was in no way how he thought his evening would go. And to be honest, he never ever expected having this conversation with his friends, ever. The last thing he wanted to do was to make his feelings all the more forward in his mind, and he was already having trouble whenever he was around you, and all you did was remind him of all the reasons why he wanted to be with you.

The thing was that he couldn't tell if you reciprocated his feelings. Sure, he could flirt and insert himself into your life all he wanted. But you could just be playing nice!

…actually, you probably were just playing nice. Dear god, he was back at square one.

He simply didn't want to lose your friendship, at the very least. Even if you didn't want to be with him in that way, he would pull up his big boy pants and be a friend to you instead. Then he wouldn't have to live without seeing you smile or listening to you work out problems aloud while he did mundane things in the background—

“And we lost him.”

Younghoon cleared his throat, raising a hand up to scratch his jawline. “You did not lose me,” he protested. The amount of attention on him right now was uncanny. Of course, he could go up onstage and be a character—but reality was different. He couldn't put on a mask or another personality; these people knew him… wasn't that scary? And yet, somehow freeing, at the same time.

Kevin inclined his chin to him with a little smirk. “You did have hearts in your eyes, my dude.”

“Aww, he's in love,” Sangyeon gushed while standing up to go refill his drink.

“I'm not in love!” He said with his index finger pointed at the sky. (He was in love. Of course, he knew he was in love. Because when all he did for the past three months of his life besides school was be around you and think about you and you you you… how could he not? Younghoon could fake any emotion in the world in front of an audience of people, but your eyes alone would devastate him.)

The entire apartment, sans Younghoon, chorused altogether now, “Yes, you are.”

Younghoon balked, rocketing upright. “There is no way all of you agreed on something for the first time and it was this.”

Hyunjae patted his friend's thigh from his position on the floor. “Believe it, Lover Boy. So what're you gonna do about it?”

“I wouldn't even know how to tell her,” Younghoon huffed, leaning back against the couch cushion with his arms crossed over his chest in thought.

That day when you'd told him about the wedding, he had been so hopeful that you were going to say something about feelings. He was so certain that he read you right, but you said nothing else afterward. He would totally go to that wedding with you, though; he just figured you might not want him to go, considering you'd dismissed it so quickly afterward.

Sangyeon came back to the couch and perched himself onto the arm of the sectional next to Juyeon. “It doesn't have to be fancy—you just need to be clear and straightforward.”

“Flowers could soften the blow,” suggested Juyeon.

Kevin chuckled. “For him or for Yn?”

Younghoon clicked his tongue at him with a playful scowl. “Quiet, you. But thanks, guys. I guess I just want to do this right. I don't wanna ruin what we already have.”

Juyeon pursed his lips and reached over to clasp his hand on his friend's shoulder. “You won't, man. I guarantee you that.”

“So if I get my heart broken, I can sue you for false advertisement?” Younghoon asked with his lips stretched in a grin, eyelashes fluttering innocently.

“Pssh,” Juyeon laughed, “try me.”

EPISODE ELEVEN: THE USUAL TIME & PLACE

IT was a frightening sequence of events when you texted Younghoon and he texted you at the same time. The Monday after Chanhee and Jungwoo had hyped you up to confess, you went around different items of furniture in your apartment with your phone in hand, pencil behind your ear, trying to work up the courage again to send the text.

And you did… eventually.

The usual time and place was decided upon, and it had snuck up on you as the day went on. You tied your shoes on and slipped out the door, making sure to pat your pocket down for where you had tucked your secret weapon for the night. As soon as you and Younghoon had confirmed a meeting for today, you ran to your (favorite) grad student, Seulgi, and asked very nicely for her set of keys into the planetarium, promising to treat her to brunch if she did.

The walk over to the convenience store was a jitter-filled one. Your stomach was doing cartwheels alongside the flips your heart performed in your chest. There was still activity on the streets, even at nine o’clock on a Dead week evening. You jumbled through the routine you had in mind over and over, a broken record of hopes and wants. The plan was to take a walk to the planetarium and use said walk to work up the courage to tell him. If anything went wrong, then you could cover it up with a cool presentation of stars overhead.

This isn’t lame, is it? You thought to yourself as you let yourself into the store. You were so in your head, you nearly didn’t notice that Younghoon was standing right in front of you, having just walked out of one of the aisles. You startled, breath hitching in your throat.

He smiled, the expression soft. “Hey,” he said to you and had to clear his throat, a hand brushing through his hair. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“All good; guess my head was just somewhere else,” you laughed nervously. You gripped the key in your pocket until you were sure your skin would smell like metal by the time you got to the planetarium. The two of you had met and hung out here a bundle of times before this, but this time in particular was different. The energy shifted in a way you couldn’t foretell if it was good or bad. For your sake, you hoped it was the former.

“Wanna talk about it?” He asked and took a step toward you.

You inhaled, nodding. “I do,” you said. “I—actually, uhm, do you want to go to the planetarium with me?” From your pocket, you withdrew the keys Seulgi gave you and wiggled them around by the keyring. “I bribed one of my seniors for the keys.”

Younghoon brightened, a laugh falling out of his mouth, and now he was standing right next to you. “Oh my god, you evil genius… my beloved mastermind, are we about to break some rules?” He teasingly bumped your arm with his, his eyebrows wagging up and down.

“Only if you’ll break them with me,” you beamed and reached for the door to the front door.

“But of course,” he played along with a giddiness shining through his expression. “Anything with you. Though, I’d like to stop somewhere on the way first.”

Without even visiting your table in the back of the shop, you and Younghoon took off into the night together. You couldn’t imagine where Younghoon wanted to stop by on the way, but you thought it was probably to run an errand of sorts. But for the moment, it was at the back of your mind as you tried to keep this as normal as possible. “Different” was so intimidating—you wanted to sink into the comfort that was whatever you and Younghoon had.

It wasn’t difficult to slip into that normalcy, though. He always made it so easy.

“—and they did so well, Yn-ah. You need to come back and see them in person; they’re always asking me where you are,” he told you with an invigorated passion. He gave a feigned sniffle. “Pretty sure they like you more than me.”

You shook your head, laughing, “You’re so dramatic. They love you, Hoon. I mean, I can’t even believe that they would remember me after having met them only once!”

“Well,” he drawled, glancing away for a spell, “that might be my doing.” He confessed sheepishly, “I do talk about you a lot—but hey! You can’t blame me! I like talking about subjects that mean a lot to me.”

Your heart made a full stop in your chest, and you nearly physically halted in the middle of the walkway. The gears in your head could barely process what he had just said without going into a spiral. It was a reminder of what this night was originally about. You sputtered out a reply, “You’re too sweet, you know that?”

“I try,” he jested.

“I do finish all my finals next week by Tuesday,” you told him. “I can totally come by that Wednesday and Friday for a little wing fitting. When’d you say the show was?”

He squinted one of his eyes in thought. “Err… it should be the Friday night after next, but if you do come through with those props, that should still give them enough time to get used to them before the performance.”

You nodded, mentally mapping out your schedule. Once your finals were through, you would have plenty of time to tinker with the props and have some proper fun after such a long quarter. “Sounds like a plan.”

“I appreciate it a lot, Yn,” he said, ducking his head as he nudged you with his elbow, “thank you in advance. I call you a workaholic, but here I am encouraging it.”

You chuckled. “It’s no trouble, Younghoon. Seriously. I like doing crafty things, and it’ll be a nice project. I promise.” To the end of that, you stressed further, “And if you think about it like you’re encouraging my hobbies and passions, then it feels a lot less like work.”

He hummed thoughtfully. “I suppose you’re right.” His head perked up when his eyes caught onto something in the near distance. His fingers unconsciously caught onto your wrist. “Here it is.”

Wherever you expected to find yourself, it was not a flower shop. There was no shop name or title anywhere that you could see, just the sketched posters and advertisements in the windows of chrysanthemums and hydrangeas. Troughs of vivid blooms lined the front windows like testaments to the plants one might expect to find within. Hanging planters dangled from the overhang, vines and foliage spilling over in an elegant mess.

There was one other sign posted in the window of the door that read its opening hours from 8am to 11pm.

Younghoon's cheekbones seemed to flush in the light streaming out from the inside of the shop. “Shall we?” He asked shyly and grabbed the door handle to open it for you.

You stepped inside before him with the door closing behind the two of you softly. You weren't sure where to go first—the room was constructed with two long tables in the center to hold smaller planters, then the perimeter was covered nearly from floor to ceiling with the larger plants, as well as the hanging garden pots like the ones outside hung from the ceilings by the lights.

There was someone to the right side of the room with a large, green watering can in hand. She glanced up when she heard the two of you come in. “Hi! How can I help you two?” She asked, reaching up to take out one of the earbuds she had in.

Younghoon placed one of his hands on your shoulder. “Would you mind if we took a look around?”

“No, not at all. Help yourselves; if you need anything, don't hesitate to holler.”

He smiled, “Sounds good, thank you!”

Did he know what he was here for? You followed him toward the leftmost table, unsure of where to wander yourself since there was so much stimuli. He stopped at one of the pots and you stood beside him. Leaning closer, you whispered, “I don't really know what we're looking at.”

“Me neither,” he admitted with an embarrassed grin, but then he pulled out a planter tag at the front of the pot he was examining. “But these might help.”

“You're probably right,” you mused, patting him on the arm.

“Look, these are carnations.” He scooted over to the next one over. There were an array of different colors of them, ranging from white to the deepest red. He placed a finger against his lips, then pointed at the white ones. “Those mean innocence, and those—” these were directed toward the blush pink ones, “—something along the lines of 'I'll never forget you.’”

You still stood close to him, and you reached over to gently warm the velvety petals between your fingertips. “I hope it's okay to touch them,” you suddenly said, swiftly retracing your fingers and peering over your shoulder at the worker.

“I'm sure it's okay,” he chuckled. He pointed out a buttery yellow set of petals a few pots down. “Aren't these gorgeous?” He breathed in awe.

When you arrived at the petal of choice, you raised the tag to see its name—daffodils. They were beautiful indeed, with pristine petals and tall stems, the color of them a rich yellow as if it had been painted rather than grown.

“What do these mean?” You asked.

“Unrivaled love? I think,” he answered with a slight tilt of his head.

You considered him for a moment with lips parted. “You're incredible, you know that? How do you know all this?”

His smile sweetened into something that made your chest feel warm. “You say that as if you're not the incredible one. But, Google. Don't look at my search history,” he muttered sheepishly.

It made you smile anyway.

You turned your head to scan the rows upon rows of diversity in one room. You were never quite the foliage fiend, but you could appreciate nature's beauty as much as nature's laws. Even if you might never be able to grow flowers of your own (because trust that you'd tried), as long as these places still existed, you could still admire and appreciate them.

Your eyes snagged onto a bundle of tulips at the front of the shop and you wandered over to take a look. Younghoon trailed after you to see what you wanted to look at, and stopped with you to admire the tulips. Their buds were near perfect, and they varied in so many colors—all soft purples, reds, yellows, pinks.

“Wow,” you said.

“Wow,” he agreed. He caressed the outside petals of one of the bulbs, then took the individual flower by the stem. He took yet another in his opposite hand and faced you. “What did the tulip say to the other tulip?”

You blinked. “Do indulge me.”

“We should put our tulips together and kiss,” he answered, and he pressed his own lips together in a barely contained smile.

You covered your mouth with one hand, a smile of your own blossoming under your palm. “I don't know about that one…”

“I don't be-leaf you when you say you're not a fan of that one.”

At this point, you could feel your face heat up and you could no longer hide your smile. “You're incorrigible.”

“It made you smile,” he quipped back with a smirk. He placed the tulips in his hands gently back into their pot, then swiveled on the balls of his feet. “They’re beautiful.”

“They are,” you agreed.

“Like you.”

Your eyes snapped up to his, but he already had his back turned to you as he surveyed the shop for the person who was on shift. Yet, you still spied the bit of red creeping up the back of his neck, and found yourself content.

“Hi, excuse me!” He caught the worker's attention. “Could we get just a little bundle of these tulips, please? Thank you so much.”

Your eyes widened and you tugged on the sleeve of his jacket. “Younghoon, what're you—”

He had a satisfied smile on his face. “Getting you flowers.”

“You don't need to get me flowers.”

“I’d like to,” he said simply, and that was the end of the conversation.

Less than ten minutes later, you and Younghoon were back out on the sidewalk with a new addition to the group. You cradled a small bouquet of tulips in the crook of your arm. The girl working there tonight had told you that being open so late caught a lot of last minute gift-givers as she wrapped your flowers in a tan colored butcher paper. She seemed to be an expert at tying ribbon bows that were just as beautiful as the flowers she tended, too.

You were already spinning far from your original intentions. You hadn't accounted for Younghoon making this gesture, and you wondered if he planned something for tonight.

Your counterpart suddenly cleared his throat while the two of you resumed your journey to the planetarium. You were only a few minutes away from the planetarium now. “I know I asked earlier if there was something you wanted to talk about,” he said, “but there is something I wanted to also talk about.”

Your heart fumbled over itself. “Uhm, yeah—yes, what's on your mind?”

From where you were on the street, you could see the broad dome of your target building just across the street. There was a rapid leap in your heart rate as he faced you beneath the street light shining over your heads like some kind of strangely timed, solo spotlight. The crosswalk turned green, but you stayed rooted to your place.

“I've been trying to figure out how to tell you this,” he began. He sucked in a deep breath and swallowed. You could only imagine how long he spent training himself to hold a poker face, but it was the liminal spaces where you could see right through him. “I like you a lot, Yn. It's—it’s an overwhelming amount, what I feel about you.”

You peered over at him wordlessly and hung onto every syllable coming from his mouth.

He wrung his hands out; this perhaps wasn't a script he was prepared for. But who ever came prepared for something like this? “And I think it's pretty obvious what I was hoping for tonight to be like from the flowers and all, and I was hoping that I was being just as obvious with how I felt about you, and… I don't know. I just… I had to tell you.” His lips pressed together so that the small divot in the side of his cheek appeared.

You didn't know how to describe the wave of emotion that washed over you. There was the rapid heart beat thundering in your ears, the tingle of relief in your shoulders, the happiness taking flight in your stomach.

“I have to be honest, I—I feel the exact same way you do.” You ducked your head, tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, “And I didn't know how to tell you either because I was really scared.” Your voice tripped, and you picked yourself back up. He waited for you, as always, patiently letting you say your piece. “I didn't want to lose you as a friend, at the very least, because you've come to mean so much to me over these past few months.”

Younghoon's smile widened and the amber color from the streetlight above haloed around his head for one dizzying second. “I didn't want to lose you either. I'm literally head over heels for you; you're every… you're everything.”

You didn't know how else to express your feelings through words, and you wrapped your arms around his middle, the flowers coming around his back to avoid being crushed. “Not good at words, sorry,” you mumbled into the fabric of his jacket.

You could feel the vibrations of his warm chuckle as he slowly wrapped his arms around you, his lips pressing against the side of your head. Message received.

Not everything went to plan, and it was important to exercise flexibility in such times. You still snuck (broke) into the planetarium with Younghoon, hand-in-hand, but all feelings were already known and laid sprawled on the table.

There was a center platform in the main showcase hall that was carpeted in a layer of fake grass that you and Younghoon gladly lounged upon to watch the universe. The image projected above your heads now of faraway solar systems and galaxies was unfortunately not real—they were produced by a specific software rather than the lens of a telescope. It was breathtaking, nonetheless.

You laid with your back against the fake grass next to Younghoon, your arms pressed against one another. The light projecting onto the dome above filtered down and painted you both in colors of stars and dark matter, all of those swirls of oranges and purples and blues and white.

“There is one thing that's still on my mind.”

He hummed. “What's that?”

“I was wondering—and you can totally say no—but the wedding…” You glanced over at him, and you wondered if he could understand what you were probing at. “I was wondering if you'd be comfortable going as my plus one. It's just the reception, but I understand if it's a lot.”

He smiled at you, big and bright, “I'd love to go as your plus one.”

Relief and joy fluttered in your chest now. It was a miracle your heart didn't grow wings and fly out then. “Thank you, really.”

His fingers inched over yours until they intertwined as a silent acknowledgement. He knew. He always knew somehow.

In the silence, you returned your gaze up to the night sky. It was crazy how vast the universe was and how small you were in relation to it. When put into perspective, your problems here on Earth were so much smaller than the world—and yet, they were still important.

“When I was a kid,” you started to say, and heard a small sound from your right as he looked back over at you, “I wanted to touch the stars.” You turned your head to look back at him.

His lip quirked upward fondly. “Something of yours will touch the stars one day.”

“I hope so,” you mused back. That was the dream.

His eyes dropped down to your mouth now, and everything quieted, as if you were in a vacuum with only the two of you. In this reality, no one and nothing else existed.

You could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin as he leaned toward you and pressed his lips against yours. His body rolled half over yours, one hand cupping your jaw with a tenderness you were certain to become addicted to. It was your chest against his, your nose slotting beside his, your cheek beneath his thumb. His lips were a perfect marriage of pressure and softness at once.

When he pulled away, he didn't go far. “I think I just touched a star,” he murmured.

The breath in your throat hitched. “You're too good with words, Kim Younghoon.”

His eyes crinkled. “We can do something more your speed and study the space between us instead.”

You had to turn away to laugh, the sound of his own joining yours.

“Hey, it's a yes or no question,” he giggled, turning your chin back toward him. He bit his lip through a grin. “Can I kiss you again?”

You would be a fool to refuse him. In an instant, he lowered his lips over yours again, enveloped you in his embrace. And with every moment passed, you sank further and further into him. Maybe the universe was uncharted and alluring, but the universe could wait.

You had all the world right here.

a/n: tumblr fcking hates me and my dialogue, confirmed. anyways, pls remember to reblog + comment if u enjoyed! for now, i'll see u in hot commodity!

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @rikizm @tinkerbell460 @kaaimins @hyunjaespresent-deobi @otterly-fey @zzoguri @floatingpluto @winterchimez @ethereal-engene @gyulfriend @polarisjisung @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @loveliestfelix @bless-311 @zhaixiaowen @leaz-kpop-life @amourdsr @pxppxrminty @kqyutie @sseastar-main @kxthleen14 @fluorescentloves @mosviqu @jaerisdiction @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @vernonburger @maessseongs @ericlvr @mars101 @moonyswolf @your-mirae @richasdiary @sunramzi @deobi0412 @kflixnet

(300 follows special)

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AFFOGATO TELL YUU SMTH | lee juyeon

pairings — barista!juyeon x baker!reader ( ft. Chanhee, Sunwoo, and Eric from TheBoyz, Minji from Newjeans, Yunjin from LeSerrafim, and Yujin from Ive )

synopsis — After leaving your first love in Highschool to pursue your passion in pastry abroad, you worked hard day and night to make your dreams come true. Finally, after three years, you graduated and came back to Korea. And, with the savings you earned, was able to open a bakery of your own. What happens now when the cute barista you hired turns out to be your charming first love?

warnings — there will be breakup angst,,, nothing too harsh tho… oh and there will be mentions of blood and being in pain in some chapters!!

disclaimer — this fiction was made before LESERRAFIM’s scandal. IN NO WAY DO I SUPPORT ANY OF THEIR BEHAVIOR AND THOUGHTS. Had I known beforehand, I would never add YUNJIN in this SMAU.

genre — romance : exes to lovers, healthy jealousy, pining, right person wrong time, pathetic golden retriever man

note — my submission for @deoboyznet‘s holiday party event. Special love to the recipient of this SMAU…. @quaissants !!! Hope you love it bae!

taglist — closed

duration — December 1, 2023 — February 15, 2024

more works — navigation | tbz!masterlist

PROFILES

CHAPTER I : YUU’RE HIRING

CHAPTER II : EX-EMPLARY INTERVIEW

CHAPTER III : GRR GRRRRR RAHHH

CHAPTER IV : CONNECTIONS R EVERYTHING

CHAPTER V : U SO HAVE A CHANCE

CHAPTER VI : *BATS EYELASH BLUSHES CUTELY

CHAPTER VII : LIKE A SUPERHERO

CHAPTER VIII : REMINISCING THE PAST

CHAPTER IX : SOMETHING CHANGED, IT’S FISHY

CHAPTER X : THAT’S SAD MAN…

CHAPTER XI : IT LOOKS LIKE YOU 🤧🤍

CHAPTER XII : CAN’T BELIEVE YOU HID THIS

CHAPTER XIII : THE FINAL COMPETITION

CHAPTER XIV : JUYEON VS MINJI

CHAPTER XV : PLOT TWIST

EPILOGUE

© astrae4 2023 | please don’t copy, translate, or plagiarize my works on all platforms!

forever muse

han taesan x reader

i needed to write something tht's target audience is me bcs ive been so so sad and need to feel better. friends to lovers <3 insecure and jealous taesan TT mentions of other idols as their classmates. cuss words, lowercase intended, ignore any spelling mistakes/grammatical errors! enjoyy :3

wc: 3,387

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"yn, this is crazy good! thank you so much"

kim leehan shoots yn ln a big smile, his hands holding onto a framed drawing of himself. it had been the kim boy's birthday and yn had gifted him one of her infamous hand-drawn portraits. it was a gift she gave to everyone on their special day, something she could whip up the night before and simply put inside of a wooden frame she picked up at her local art supply store. by the end of the year, almost every one of her classmates had received one. everyone except for her own best-friend, han taesan.

he doesn't understand why, watching with envious eyes as she stroked the loose ends of her hair behind her ear, grinning at the other guy's compliments. he couldn't help but notice the way the skin beside her lips dipped into dimples when she smiled, or the way her cheeks stained a shade of red darker than the cool-toned pink blush she had put on that day. a billion thoughts ran through his mind in that moment. it was his own birthday just two months ago, yet all he got from her was a card and a new sweater- which, granted, was the really nice sweater he'd been eyeing for a while and he was really thankful for it but still! couldn't she had taken the time out of her day to draw him the way she did others? was it cause he wasn't as pretty as the girls in their class? or maybe he just wasn't as handsome as leehan! or maybe she didn't care for him as much as he thought she did, maybe she just didn't want to waste her time and the ink of pen on him because maybe he just wasn't worth all of it and-

"taesan! you there?" the familiar female voice interrupts his rapid train of thoughts, his eyes widening slightly and his back straightening up. "huh? sorry, did you say something?" the boy asks and yn snickers, sitting down on her desk beside his. "no, don't worry about it. just wondering what you were zoning out about, that's all" he nods at her words, "it's nothing...i take it mister kim 'popular' leehan liked your little gift?" the obvious blush on her cheeks made his stomach turn, watching as she stared at the boy across the room from them. taesan rolled his eyes before she turned to look at him again. "i guess he did" yn smirked, a prideful look displayed against the features of her face. "well good for you" he replies, though his voice came off somewhat thicker and colder than it usually was. that, paired with the way he slammed his book shut and got up from his seat, left the girl confused by his sudden mood change.

"hey, where you going?" she asked, looking up curiously at his tall figure. he just shrugged, "i don't know, just gonna take a walk or something" the girl laughs, finding her friend's mysteriousness rather silly. "want me to come?" her eyebrows cocked up as she inquired, head tilted off slightly to the side. he shook his head, a single sentence escaping his pursed lips before he was out the door,

"i wanna be alone"

he disappeared into the distance, leaving his best-friend alone with the thoughts that began to swim into her brain. strange, she thought. the han taesan she knew was rarely ever this way- especially to her. sure, he looked mean and mysterious but even then he was never this cold. what's up with him?

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

the bell had gone off and their last period of the day had started, yet the desk beside yn's remained empty. taesan hadn't returned from his walk. it worried the girl a little, her mind coming up with a thousand scenarios, unable to focus on whatever piece of the great depression her history teacher was trying to teach to the group of seniors. the girl's gaze moved towards the window that was starting to get wet from the sudden droplets of rain that had fallen from the sky. hope he doesn't get caught in the rain...he might get sick, she thought, wherever he is...

as soon as the class ended, the girl stuffed all her belongings into her bag, not really caring for the creases that might fold onto her textbooks. as she's about to leave the classroom, a voice stops her. "yo, yn! me and some of the others are gonna head to the froyo place...come with?" leehan smiles cheerfully at her, his perfect hair and his perfect teeth complimenting his perfect face, but the girl shakes her head. "sorry, leehan, i have something important to do. have fun though! happy birthday, again- bye!" she didn't even give the boy enough time to process her words before she was running out the door.

the girl skips through the whole school building in the speed of light, her eyebrows knitted together when she can't find a single trace of her friend. yn stands on the steps at the back exit of the campus, groaning when she can't find an umbrella amidst the rain that began to grow heavier. she sighs, swinging her backpack over her head, deciding to make a run for it. her feet take her to the entrance of the art building that was separated from the main one of the academy, her make-shift backpack-umbrella proving to be useless as she spots her wet hair through the reflection on the glass doors. yn ln pushes on it, her damp shoes making contact with the white marble floors and she entered the cool building. if i can't find him here...where else would he be?

she begins to walk up the staircase, a sense of comfort engulfing her body at the familiar scent of her favourite area in the whole school. her fingers graze softly over the collection of canvases displayed on the walls, a smile making its way onto her lips when she spots a piece of art of her own. it's odd, but the girl seemed to have felt a presence when she arrived at the second floor, his presence.

the smell of acrylic paint mixed with melted hot-glue entered into her nostrils, causing her to wince at the intensity of the scent. a minute goes by and she finds herself entering the empty art room at the very end of the hall, it was the art room she self-proclaimed as her own, one that nobody apart from her ever really used. her hand presses softly against the door, a creaking noise alerting anyone that happened to be inside- though it was rare, she just knew he'd be in there. as expected, the girl walks in and is immediately met with his familiar figure sat on the floor. his head titled upwards to look out the window, his knees to his chest and his hands resting on them. yn sighs in relief when she noticed that despite the rain he remained completely dry, like he'd been here the entire time when she was worried he'd wandered off elsewhere.

"i've been looking for you...even got rained on" her voice is sweet, like she just knew he wouldn't be up for her usual enthusiasm. han taesan didn't look at her, paying her no mind as he continued to examine the droplets that pitter-pattered onto the glass windows from outside. this confused the girl, the same way he did when he abruptly got up and out of the classroom hours ago, the same way he did when his words came out so coldly earlier. "what's wrong with you today?" she asked, starting to get annoyed at her friend's ignorance. he scoffs, "today?" he repeated, eyebrows furrowing as he turned to look at her at last.

"what's wrong with me everyday?"

his words take her by surprise, as did the way his voice cracked and eyes watered slightly as he spoke. it's a sight she'd never seen before. never in the years they've been friends would she have ever imagined she'd see han taesan...cry.

"what...what are you talking about?" yn asked, the empathy in her heart threatening to escape as little tears through her eyes. "it's just...i feel like you don't care about me the way you do others!" the boy's voice is clearer now, almost louder and strict. she's about to say something, but he won't let her. not until he's done. "i mean, sure, i'm not as handsome and popular as leehan. sure, i'm not as smart and punctual as class president jungwon! and maybe i'm just not as cool as hanni and minji- or as funny as haruto-" yn tries to interfere, "what are you even saying-" but even then he doesn't let her. "but i mean, i'm your best-friend, right? i'm the guy you're closest to...so why? why does everyone except for me..." he trails off in frustration, eyes moving from the floor to the ceiling, anywhere that wasn't a direct view of her. of the girl who stared at him with intent, waiting for him to finish his sentence.

"why does everyone get a drawing for their birthday and all i get is a sweater and a card?"

the minute those words entered into her ear, a feeling of shock coursed throughout her body. a look of absolute disbelief present on her complexion as she let's out an exasperated sigh. "you're kidding me...right?" taesan fully looks at her again, confused this time. "i'm not" his voice is stern and serious, making the girl realize the weight of the situation. her features soften, a small smile returning to her lips as she looked into his teary eyes and sweet pout.

"you're so stupid, taesan...of course i care about you! just as much- if not more than anyone else" yn says, a giggle escaping her mouth towards the very end of her sentence. "then how come you never draw me?!" he exclaims slightly, eyebrows knitting together. this time, she fully laughs at his dramatic expression. "are you kidding?!" she asks, the same intensity in her tone. yn sighs before getting up, she fixes the wrinkles on her skirt and stretches an arm out for him to grab. the boy sits still however, only staring at her with eyes that resembled a lost kitty. the girl rolls her eyes, "c'mon! i need to show you something" she sighs once more when he doesn't budge. "fine, stay there. i'll bring it to you"

his eyes trail off to follow her as she rummages through a drawer over on the other side of the art-room. the side he knew she spent most of her free-time sitting in, running her pens and pencils over sheets and sheets of paper. he stares curiously at her when she pulls out a familiar looking sketchbook. yn closes the drawer, walking back towards the boy who was still sitting on the marble floor.

"here, look at this" she says, sitting beside him and handing him the book. taesan looks at her confused, "what? the sketchbook you always have your head in and never let me look through? you're really telling me to look at it? now?" she nods, "mhm! take it or leave it, taesan. this is a once in a lifetime opportunity" he shakes his head at her words but his fingers began to stroke over the leather material of the expensive-looking sketchbook's cover. he used both his hands to softly pry it opened, greeted with her messy scribble-like handwriting on the very first page.

'this book in your hands, the book i always use though if you looked into it you'd be confused flipping through the pages you'd find the same idea overused you'd find that only one person remains my forever muse.'

yn watched the way his eyes scanned over the poem she wrote, the confusion evident on his face as he tried to analyze the riddle-like clause. "your forever muse? if this whole book is a collection of drawings of kim leehan, i really don't want to see it" taesan says, scoffing in the process. the girl furrows her brows, "what are you talking about?" he rolls his eyes, "what do you mean? i'm obviously talking about your seriously obvious crush on mister popular!" her mouth falls opened in shock, "you idiot, i do not have a crush on that dork! never!" he chuckles, "you don't have to lie, yn...i understand it if you do...i mean isn't he just so dreamy?" he bats his eyelashes dramatically as he looks up at the roof, mimicking the way most girls thirsted over his popular classmate. she clicks her tongue before placing one nice big slap on the side of his arm. "ow! what was that for?" he whined, rubbing the spot that hurt.

"that's for being a fucking idiot...just look through the fucking sketchbook if you don't believe me!" her words are loud in his ears, a new voice of anger that juxtaposed the sweet tone she used earlier. it freaked the boy out for a second, sensing that he was wrong and obliging to her words. "alright fine...no need to yell" he said, fingers going back to fiddle with the pages of the book that now sat on his lap. he took a deep breath in, as did she, before finally flipping over to the next page. he gasps in shock, eyes widening ever so slightly at the sight before him. there, drawn in ink and pencil, the one thing that caused this whole scene to begin with. the thing he'd been longing for that he thought she never cared to make. it was a portrait of himself.

"what...is that me?!" the boy turns to face her in shock, suddenly questioning the reality of this situation. she snickers, "yeah, no shit! and if you could quit yapping and looked through the rest of the book you'd find a thousand more drawings of you" taesan lets out a laugh, wasting no time as he continued to flip through each and every page. yn watched the way the corners of his lips began to point upwards, his smile getting bigger and bigger after every drawing.

soon the ink-stained pages turned into blank ones, yet to be doodled on by the artsy girl. taesan shuts the sketchbook closed, turning to look at his friend with the fondest of eyes. "so you do care about me" he says, his voice sincere and warm. she laughs, "i care about you so so so much, stupid" he giggles, a giddy feeling in his tummy, "i mean obviously you do...a whole book of drawings of me?! you might as well just tell me you're in love with me!" he's laughing still, though he can't help but notice the way she had quieted down. did he say something wrong?

"hey...you okay?" he asks, a hand moving up to press softly against her shoulder. she's frozen, unable to utter a word. "was it something i said?" he continued, tucking bits of her hair away from her face. "what is it, yn? just tell me..." the boy was growing impatient, not really understanding what was going on in that little head of hers. she sighs, looking up at him again. "okay...but you can't be dramatic about it" she says, making him roll his eyes, "when have i ever been dramatic?" the girl glares at him, "taesan" he goes silent, "okay, i'm sorry, just tell me" she nods once, inhaling deeply.

"taesan, i think i kind of really am...in love with you"

han taesan gasps, his eyes as wide as the earth as those very words left her lips. yn watches his shocked expression, beginning to regret everything she just said. "fuck, i'm sorry. i shouldn't have said anything-" her rambling comes to a halt when his gleeful laughs serenade the room, confusing the girl for the millionth time that day. "why are you laughing?" she asked, unsure of what emotion she was supposed to feel. he smiles, "because i'm happy. don't happy people laugh?" his cheeks were dusted with a shade of pink, a similar colour on his lips that smiled warmly at her. "huh?" yn was still lost, everything that he spoke beginning to sound like a foreign language to her.

"i love you too, yn. i always have. i mean, why else would i be jealous of mister popular and all our other classmates?" the boy's words were natural, he spoke like he had no doubts and worries anymore. she looked at him with adoring eyes, eyes that were glossed with a layer of pre-mature tears. "oh don't cry, you idiot!" he said, his ears catching the silent whimper that fell out of her lips. "well then don't make me, stupid!" she whined, slapping him on the chest. taesan giggles again, pulling her into his embrace. "you're such a big baby, yn" he says, his teeth out for display as he grinned into her hair that still smelled of rain. "says the one who was literally about to cry because he thought i didn't care about him" she pushed herself off of his chest, a great big pout present on her lips as she glared at him like a child. he clicked his tongue, "don't look at me like that, yn" she's confused again, "like what?"

"like you want me to kiss you"

yn smiled, "and what if i do?"

the girl moves, getting on her knees and scooting closer to him. he adjusts as well, their faces inches away from each other now. his hands found home over on the sides of her face, her own ones soothing the skin of his neck. they stare at each other for a while, neither one of them making a move. yn gets impatient, one hand moving from the back of his neck down to the red tie beneath the collar of his school uniform. she tugs at it, sending taesan forward and crashing onto her lips. they kissed like they'd never again, an entanglement of tongues filling the otherwise silent room with lustful sounds. she giggles as they separate, gasping for air. their foreheads remained stuck together, her eyes never leaving his. he grins, leaning in to connect their lips once again. it was quick this time, a soft peck followed by about a dozen more.

"you're so handsome, taesan" the girl says, examining his features closely as she traced her finger over each one of them. "even more than leehan?" he asked, the envy still existing in his heart. she rolls her eyes, "a billion times more" the boy raises an eyebrow, "really?" yn looks up at the ceiling, as if she were making a really big decision. "maybe not a billion times more..." taesan frowns, his expression sending her heart to beat faster than a bullet train. "i'm kidding. you're a billion times more handsome than anyone ever" she assures, playing with the ends of his dark hair. "oh yeah?" he smirks, feeling proud again. "i mean duh...you are, after all..." yn trails off, pressing her forehead against his again.

"...my forever muse"

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"yn! so sad we missed you for froyo yesterday" kim leehan says as yn ln enters the classroom. she smiles, "yeah sorry about that, i had somewhere to be..." he nods in understanding before hopping off of the table he sat on and beginning to walk over to her. "that's alright, maybe you can come after school today? it'll just be us though...what do you say?" he had a shit-eating smirk placed onto his lips, confidently winking at the girl. she opens her mouth to answer but a familiar voice enters the classroom, interrupting her before she could even speak.

"the answer is no! and stop perceiving my girlfriend! she does not want you!!"

han taesan glares at the other boy, an annoyed look on his face as he wraps a protective arm over yn's shoulders. the girl sighs, slapping a palm over her forehead when leehan shoots her boyfriend a weirdened out look. the kim guy moves his gaze from the han boy and over to the girl, raising his eyebrows so as to ask for confirmation. she nods slowly,

"sorry leehan, my boyfriend asked me out for froyo today already"

the end.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

writing this made me feel so much better after ive been sad TT hope u guys enjoyed this <3 reblogs n feedbacks r greatly appreciated!! tysm for readinggg! love, kona.

Best Friend Ever | S. Eunseok

Eunseok x (f) Reader | Fake dating to lovers

Word count: 20k

Warnings: Cursing, suggestive

Genre: Fluff, Suggestive

playlist

A college student rejecting attention is taken aback when a famous athlete asks them out. Confused and suspicious, they confront their past experiences and insecurities as they navigate a newfound curiosity about the athlete's intentions. The story explores personal growth, unexpected connections, and the courage to leave one's comfort zone.

The college classroom buzzed with the low murmur of students chatting and the occasional squeak of chairs being pulled out. Sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow over the room. In the middle of it all sat You, Your eyes drifting lazily around the room as you waited for class to end, your mind already elsewhere, disinterested in the present. 

A sigh, heavy with restlessness, escapes your lips as you rest your chin in the palm of your hand. Your other hand is used to tap the head of your pen against your laptop, a rhythmic echo of your impatience. You try to divert your eyes from reading the time, but you can't help but glance at it here and there, each glance a testament to your mounting anticipation. 

You startle when a small note lands on your desk, seemingly out of nowhere. Intrigued, you open it, ignoring the sensation of someone's gaze on the back of your head. 

The note simply reads "Hey," followed by a smiley face, but you know exactly who it's from. 

You whip your head around to face your best friend three rows behind you. Sohee's wearing a wide grin on his face when he waves at you. But you only glare in return, a mix of annoyance and amusement in your eyes, before turning back around to face your boredom. Once again just waiting for- 

"That's all for today. Class is dismissed." Your professor's voice echoes through the room, and you can almost feel the collective sigh of relief. It's all you need to slam your laptop shut and jump out of your seat, joining the rush of students eager to leave. 

Sohee is already standing at the door waiting for you, mainly because he saved a lot of time by not having to pack up. You always thought he only attended lectures to distract you, but he would always argue differently. 

As soon as you meet him by the door, he throws his arm around you and pulls you along with him, guiding you out of the classroom before the rest of the students come trampling over you. 

"I'm starving," Sohee mumbles, his voice barely audible over the bustling noise of the hallway, a cacophony of footsteps, chatter, and the occasional laughter. He winces when you push him away from you. 

"People already think we're dating," you say, your eyes scanning the passing students, each of them engrossed in their own world.

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"That's because it is. I don't like people getting the wrong idea," you say, your voice tinged with a hint of unease. 

"I know what it is?" Sohee taunts, his finger jabbing the air. "You're afraid you'll fall for me if I stand too close." 

You roll your eyes, trying to dismiss the thought. "I can guarantee you that's not the case." Sohee hums in disagreement and continues walking ahead of you until you have to follow up with him. 

This was the nature of your relationship. Sohee often liked to hint that maybe you were into him as more than just friends, and you'd be there to shoot it down every time. 

It was annoying sometimes, but Sohee was like a brother to you. You expected him to be annoying. 

"What should we eat? Burgers? Pasta? Pizza?" Your best friend begins to list off. He waved his finger around in the air as if he were actually flipping through the options. 

"We should go for-" "Y/n." A somewhat familiar voice stops you mid-sentence. 

You didn't have to turn around to know that Eunseok was calling for you. You were only confused as to why. After all, you and Eunseok existed in starkly different worlds. 

He was the star of the school. D-1 athlete, attending on a full scholarship. It's impossible to live in the same city as him and not know who he was. The same didn't apply to you.

No one knew who you were. Not because you were super shy and avoided attention, but because you just preferred to hang out with your two friends, Sohee and Ningning, and binge on card games and pizza on Friday nights, a quiet and content life that you cherished. 

So why would Song Eunseok, a well-known college basketball player, be calling out for you?

"Hey," He says when he finally meets up with you, his voice a mix of nervousness and determination.  

"Hello?" You say, confused. Sohee, obviously just as puzzled as you are, bunches his eyebrows together and sticks his lips out into a subtle pout. 

"Will you go on a date with me?" Eunseok's unexpected question hangs in the air, shrouding the scene in a thick layer of suspense. 

Things were just getting weirder and weirder. Him picking you out in a crowd of people was odd enough, but now he was asking you out on a date. 

There's only one logical explanation for this. 

He was pranking you. You had your fair share of brutal jokes, especially among ruthless high school boys who always made it clear that no one would ever seriously be into you. 

You thought things like that only happened in grade school, but old habits do die hard. 

You snark. "No, thank you." The words come out harsher than you intended, a clear sign of your internal conflict. You attempt to walk away, assuming he'll accept the rejection and leave you alone. You should've known better. 

"Please," he pleads, halting you in your tracks. You pivot and stride back toward him.

"I'm not falling for any of your tricks." 

"One date." He holds each of his hands up in the air. "No tricks, I promise." The look on his face tells you that he's being genuine. Yet, you still look to your best friend for an answer. 

Except he only shrugs. You don't know what you were expecting from him anyway. He was never helpful before, and he won't be beneficial now. 

"When?" You ask, turning back to Eunseok. 

"Are you busy right now?" He shoots. 

"Umm..." 

Eunseok pulls out the chair so you can sit down first. You accept his offer and place your bag on the floor beside you. You notice how empty the lunchroom is. 

"If you wanna get into my pants, you're gonna have to do a lot better than this." You comment, your voice echoing in the empty school cafeteria. 

"I'm not trying to get in your pants." Eunseok's voice cuts through the silence, and his glare makes you feel small and insignificant. You shift in your seat at the sudden discomfort. 

"Well then... What do you want?" You hesitated, trying to read his true intentions. 

"I need you to be my girlfriend," he replied casually as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

 "You need me to?" Leaning in closer, you were intrigued, eager to understand his unconventional request.

"My family is starting to think I'm gay." He admits, and it makes you jump back. Who would've thought that star athlete Song Eunseok was battling with his sexuality? 

"I'm not," he says with a knowing look as if he could hear every thought racing through your mind.

 "Huh?" You blink in astonishment, your eyes widening, and shift in your chair, the leather creaking beneath you as you settle back in.

"Look, I just need you to meet my family here and there. Nothing serious."  

"Are you asking me to fake a relationship with you?"

"Yes, exactly." He nods with a severe expression, showing no sign of amusement. It was as if he had done this before.

"I'm not interested," you declare firmly, rising from your seat and gathering your belongings. 

Eunseok's voice quivers with desperation as he says, "I'll pay you," attempting to entice you to stay.

You express your disdain by poking your tongue through your cheek. The sound of your bag dropping to the floor fills the room as you turn to face him. "Money doesn't sway me. You can't just dangle it over my head and expect me to jump when you tell me to," you assert, pressing your palms onto the table.

To your surprise, Eunseok smirks. "You're a smart, independent woman," he says, and you nod. 

"I am." 

"I admire that about you." He stands up so that now you have to look up at him. "Which is why I chose you of all people."

"That's flattering. How much are you paying."

"Wait, you're dating him?" Sohee exclaims, yanking his head out of your empty fridge.

You nod, "Yeah." Your lips pressed together, a silent testament to the weight of the secret you were carrying. It wasn't easy to lie to your best friend, but you knew you had to. He had a terrible habit of just talking, talking to any and everyone about any and everything. One time, in fifth grade, you told him about a crush you had on some guy in your class. You don't remember how word got around to the entire school, but you remember that the tracks led right back to your loose-lipped best friend. The potential consequences of this secret being revealed were too significant to risk. 

"So he asked, and you just said 'yes'? No questions asked?" Sohee asks, his voice filled with disbelief. 

"Pretty much." You shrug. 

Sohee ponders, his body plopping down on the couch in front of you. You could always tell when he was thinking because his bottom lip would poke out, and he scratched the back of his head. It was rather cute, but you'd never admit that aloud. "This doesn't make any sense." He finally mutters through a pout, his brows furrowing in confusion. 

"What's not making sense?" You ask calmly, crossing your arms and leaning back against the sofa. 

"Did he cast a spell on you or something?" He sits up. "You hate ball players." 

"I do." You nod. "but he's different." You don't have to convince yourself you knew Eunseok very differently from the other sports players you were previously acquainted with. For starters, none of them would ever consider you to be their girlfriend, real or not. 

"How would you know that after just one date?" Sohee almost shouts. 

"Look, will you just trust me? I know what I'm doing." You said, your voice filled with a determination that Sohee had rarely heard before. He takes a deep breath and throws his head back against your small orange sofa. All the thinking was draining him. 

"Do you trust me?" 

"I guess I have no choice." Your best friend reassures you. Tiredly, rubbing his hands against his face. 

"Good," you exclaimed with a smile, jumping up from your seat to stand in front of him with your hand held out. "Now, let's go get some food. I know you're hungry."

"You're not gonna start ditching me to hang out with your new boyfriend, right?" Sohee sits across from you in the diner that you frequented too often. Usually, you'd visit with Ningning, but she was pretty busy these days. 

"He'll never get in between us." 

"Promise?" He asks, peering up through his eyelashes. 

You never made promises unless you knew for a fact you could keep them, which is why you wrapped your pinky finger around your best friends without a shadow of hesitation. You were certain you would never break this promise.

"It's so strange now that you have a boyfriend." Sohee breaths just as your phone begins to vibrate.

Eunseok: Hey, I need you.

You: First off, that sounds weird. And secondly, I can't. I'm busy

Eunseok: You need to be busy with me.

You: why are you so weird?

"I'm gonna ask for refills," Sohee announces, his voice cutting through the buzz of conversation in the air and causing you to pull your eyes away, momentarily captivated. "Alright," you reply with a smile, and as Sohee walks off, you feel the familiar buzz of your phone vibrating in your pocket, drawing your attention once again.

Eunseok: My family wants to meet you.

You: Hard pass; I'm hanging out with my best friend. Maybe next time :)

Eunseok: $100

You: I can't just leave him.

Eunseok: $250.

You: Deal.

Eunseok: Perfect, I'll meet you at your place.

"Are you leaving?" Sohee asks, his disappointment palpable in his voice."Sorry, Hee. I'll make it up to you, I promise." You rush, reaching into your wallet to leave a twenty-dollar bill on the table. While Sohee plops down in disbelief, his mouth slightly agape. 

"What are you wearing?" Eunseok asks, leaning against his sleek silver 2021 Jeep Wrangler. 

"I tried to be normal," you frown, looking down at your chosen outfit.

"Normal looks weird on you," he advises. "Go change." His guidance makes you feel more sure of yourself.

"But your parents-" "Will like you, no matter what. Just be yourself," he cuts you off and grabs your shoulder to turn you back towards your apartment complex.

“And be fast.” He says last. 

You ask, "How is this?" while standing in front of him, extending your arms so that he can take in your entire outfit. "Much better," he nods in approval and courteously opens the car door for you to get in. His car is immaculately clean and impressively modern. Nothing like you’d see any other college student drive, athlete or not. Maybe Eunseok was an exception because he wasn’t just any athlete but one of the best. 

You can’t say you cared enough to know. You were more worried about other things. 

“You don’t have any exes I need to know about, right?” You ask, “You know… anyone who still has unresolved feelings and isn’t really good at talking things out.” 

“No one is going to show up at your door,” Eunseok reassures, his eyes focused on the road ahead, offering you a sense of security. 

“And do you have STDs or anything?” 

‘Why is that important?” He breaks his concentration to look at you.

“You’re right.” You nod, twirling your fingers and looking around until you see something outside of the window that catches your attention. 

“Any other questions?” He asks through his smirk, one that you were already beginning to hate. 

“Why me?” Eunseok opens his mouth to begin to speak, but you stop him before he can, “And don’t try that fake feminist bullshit on me. I know how you men are.” You add. 

To which he lets out a small laugh, “You were the first person to come to mind because I knew I’d never fall for you, so I don’t have to worry about things getting complicated.” 

It sounded harsh, but you were used to it. No guys ever looked in your direction. The ones that did only wanted one thing, and it wasn’t a cool, loving, caring girlfriend. The problem wasn’t that you were ugly. You were just too different. The way you talked, the things you liked, the way you dressed. You were far too strange for anyone to love you. Well, except for Sohee, of course, but that was only because he was a little strange himself. 

“Likewise.” You hum and continue gazing out of the window. 

When Eunseok reaches the driveway of his family home, he parks and turns almost his whole body around to face you. “Okay, first, I need your phone,” he demands with his hand out. 

You ask, “What do you need my phone for?” Yet you still hold your phone in the palm of his hand and patiently wait for him to reveal his plan. 

“Here you go.” He passes your phone back with his contact on display. 

“My everything?” You read aloud, your eyebrows instinctively furrowing. You thought that was the worst of it, but when your phone closes, you catch a glimpse of his face on your lock screen. “No offense, but I don’t wanna see your face every time I open my phone.” 

“You can change it back later.” He says unamused. 

“Okay but who’s gonna believe that we're so in love after two days?” You ask, folding your arms. 

“That reminds me, if they ask, we've been dating for three months.” 

“Don’t you think they’ll find it strange that we’ve been dating for three months, and you haven’t mentioned having a girlfriend?” You question. 

“Will you just trust me on this?” He asks, reminding you of when you asked Sohee the same question. You give him a half nod and breathe, “You’re the one paying me, so I guess I have to.” 

Eunseok’s little brother greets him as soon as he gets out of his truck. Wrapping his small arms around Eunseok’s legs. “Hey, critter, where’s mom?”

The little boy you assume is around six years old, seeing as you could hear his lisp when he says, “She’s in the kitchen talking to dad. I don’t think they know you’re here yet.” And suddenly, the kid turns to you. His smile, no longer evident, was replaced with a look of concern. You mirror his expression as the boy asks, “Who’s this?”

“This is my girlfriend.” Eunseok introduces you, moving to rest his arm around your waist. Your initial instinct is to push him off of you and slap him, but you do your best to try and muster up a smile instead. The only problem is that you don’t know how to fake a smile, and you think you might’ve scared the boy while trying to.

“You couldn’t just say hi to my little brother?” Eunseok scolds you the second the small boy disappears into the house. 

“Kids make me nervous.” You defend yourself as you pull his arm off of you. “This is gonna be an extra ten bucks, by the way.” You add, referring to his hand placements. 

“Maybe I should’ve gone with someone else.” 

“It’s not too late!” Your suggestion falls on deaf ears when he grabs your hand and guides you into his family home. Which you didn’t realize was so big until you got inside. Everything looked so expensive. “Woah, I didn’t know you were-”

“You’re here early. I haven’t even started prepping yet.” Eunseok's mother unintentionally cuts you off to welcome him into a hug. “And I’m assuming this is your girlfriend.” She adds, looking at you. 

“Yeah, this is Y/n,” Eunseok speaks for you. 

“Aren’t you just the prettiest thing.” You were never good with compliments, mainly because you weren’t used to getting them. So, while you should’ve smiled and replied with a humble “thank you.” You say, “I know.” Instead. 

Eunseok's head swiftly turns in your direction, and his mom's smile drops. "I mean, Eunseok tells me that all the time. It's become a habit of his." Nice save, you think to yourself, noticing how Eunseok's shoulders relax. 

"You're a very lucky girl. You know there's no one like my son." 

"You're right; never in my life have I met anyone like Eunseok." You grin, knowing that you don't mean it the same way she does. 

"I'd say I'm the lucky one. Y/n's top of her class and she just started her internship for a space program. Plus, she's funny and gorgeous, and she supports me. Not to mention, I've also never met anyone like her." Eunseok wraps his arm around you to pull you closer to him. 

Strangely enough, you didn't feel the need to rip his arm off and punch him in the face like you wanted to the last time. Instead, you're more impressed that he even knew about your internship and thought you were funny. Although you were sure, he was just saying that to feed that facade you two had going on. 

"I would just say we make a good match." You add. 

As the older woman beams and compliments the both of you on how good you look together, you exhale in relief. But when Eunseok's father strides into the room, his gaze sweeping over you from head to toe, you realize his mom was just a warm-up act.

"You into fashion?" The older man's voice is so deep it echoes through your eardrums. Your knees buckled, and if it weren't for the hand that Eunseok kept firm around your waist, you would've run out of the door screaming. 

"Uh, um, yeah. Well, no, actually. I mean, it's… cool… sometimes."  You stumble over your words. Your heart races the more he looks at you; you feel like he knows everything. He knows you're lying to him; he knows you're accepting payment from his son to keep up this act, and he probably knows about that pen you stole from Sohee last week. 

“I like it, it’s different.” His father says, referring to your outfit. “Good choice, you better treat her right.” He turns to the tall, younger male beside you. 

“I intend to,” Eunseok responds. 

“Why don’t you give her a tour of the house? I’ll call you down when dinner is ready.” His dad suggests and leaves you and Eunseok alone for a moment. 

Rather than allowing Eunseok to guide you, you grab his wrist and pull him up the stairs to the first room you find, which, luckily for you, happens to be his room. You rush to lock the door and stomp back towards him. Your voice still shaky from the interaction with his father, you say, “I don’t wanna do this anymore.” 

“What you have to.” Eunseok pleads. 

“No, tell them I died in a tragic accident and that you can’t ever move on from me. That'll solve both of our problems.” You argue. 

“It’s not that bad.” He says incredulously, holding his arms over his chest. 

“It's not bad. It’s horrible.” 

“My parents like you already, I can tell.” Eunseok pleads, attempting to convince you. 

“That’s worse, you idiot.” You catch yourself from yelling too loud. “I’d rather they hate me so they won’t wanna see me again.” 

Both of you take a break from arguing to respond to his mom when she asks. “How are you guys doing up there.” 

“We’re fine.” You say in unison as you stare at him with the look of death. 

“I can see why it’s so hard for you to get a girlfriend.” You insult. “After today, we’re done.”

“What? Are you breaking up with me?”

“I am.” You assure him as you walk away. Opening the door to find his brother on the opposite side. You pause for a moment, unsure of what to say or do. He blinks at you and you awkwardly coo, “Hey, little boy.”

“Are you really dating my brother?” The kid inquires, staring up at you with a puzzled expression.

“Umm, yeah.” You wanna roll your eyes. You couldn’t believe you were still going with this bit after arguing that you were done.

“That makes me happy because you’re really pretty. Do you wanna see my room?”

“Sure, why not.” You think aloud.

“Yay! Come on, it's this way.” The child cheers, tugging on your wrist to lead you to his room. 

If possible, your body entered a whole other dimension. The model solar system scattered around the ceiling was the first thing that caught your attention. The life-sized astronaut standing in the corner of the room made your heart leap out of your chest. Hands down this was the coolest room you had ever seen in your life. 

“What the fu-“ You stammer, catching yourself before you can finish your sentence. 

“Don’t worry.” The boy sings, “I won’t tell anyone.” 

Your joy came to a harsh halt, when Mr Song announced that dinner was ready. The small boy remained by your side while you glared at his older brother. You roll your eyes when Eunseok pulls a chair out for you and gestures for you to take a seat. 

You accept the seat reluctantly, but refuse to thank him. The room is quiet, exactly how you prefer to keep it. 

"How long have you been dating Eunseok?" His father abruptly interjects, shattering the fragile silence you had painstakingly maintained. 

"Um." You gulp, your voice betraying the effort to conceal your discomfort, "Like three months… an- and a half?" 

"Three months?" Mr Song repeats, turning to Eunseok. For a small moment all of the attention is off of you, which allows you to release the breath you've been holding for over five minutes. "How come we're just now finding out about her?" 

The question makes you tap Eunseok's leg because you already warned him about this. "Just trust me." He said, but now he's stuttering and tripping over his words. "I- well, she-" 

"It's my fault." You interrupt, "I wanted to make sure we were compatible before I just sprung myself on his family." 

"Let me just say we are absolutely delighted to finally meet you. You are such a charming young lady," his mom gushes. "Did you know you're the first girl he's ever introduced to us?" 

“Really?” You ask, unsurprised. "You know, it's actually really funny that you say that because sometimes I find myself questioning if he's-" and as you're about to finish the sentence, a sharp pain shoots through your abdomen. To his parents, he was just being affectionate, innocently wrapping his arm around you to demonstrate his love for your personal space. None of them would've guessed what was honestly going on.

"What were you saying, honey?" Mrs. Song smiles, anticipating ‌ hearing the rest of your thoughts. 

"Sometimes I wonder if he’s even real." You force a grin, your words laced with a hint of bitterness that you hope goes unnoticed.

“It was lovely having you.” Mrs. Song beams happily, standing by the doorway of their family home. 

You reply, “It was nice being here.” While subtly removing Eunseok's arm from around your waist, or at least trying to. But his hold just got tighter with each attempt you made to push him off.

“I don’t want you to go.” The small boy pouts in front of you. 

“Don’t worry, she’ll be back,” Eunseok responds to the boy for you.

“Promise?” The little boy looks up at you with glossy eyes and one of the sweetest smiles you’ve ever seen in your entire life. How could you say no to such a sweet face?

“I promise.” You reassure looking everywhere but the boy in front of you. 

“I can’t wait to see you again.” His mother claps. “Drive safe.” She cheers as Eunseok guides you to his car. You wait until the front door is shut, and no one can hear you before you push him away from you and hold your hand up as if you’re about to slap him.

“I should kill you.”  You growl. 

"At least let me drive you home first.” He suggests holding his truck door open for you. You wanna slap him, choke him, kick him in his knees, and make him beg for mercy. But you roll your eyes instead and take your spot in his passenger seat. 

“Your family is kinda cool, even though your dad scares the shit out of me.” You mutter, staring out the window at the passing cars on the road. 

“You know you’re welcome anytime.” 

“I think it’s best we keep this professional. I don’t want you to ease up on payments because you think we’re friends.” 

“That’s fair.” Eunseok nods. 

“You and I could never be friends. We’re too different.” You add, resting your head against the back of your seat. 

“I’m starving.” Sohee whines, throwing his head against the back of your couch. 

You laugh, “you always are.” Squishing his cheeks together. 

“This isn’t funny Y/n. I could die if I don’t eat something in the next 2 seconds.” 

“You’re not going to die. I ordered pizza 20 minutes ago; it should be here any minute.” As if on cue, there’s a knock at your door, and before you can say or do anything, Sohee is shooting up to retrieve it. 

“Oh, it’s you…” Sohee squints at the tall ball player in front of him as soon as he opens the door.

“Who is it?” You ask, jumping up from your couch to stand next to Sohee. “Oh… Eunseok. What- umm. What are you doing here?” 

“My mom saw how much you liked the food yesterday, so she asked me to bring you some leftovers.’ Euseok pushes the bag full of containers in your direction. 

“Did she really? Are the green beans in here too?” You ask, snatching the bag from his hand. 

“Yeah, I think she packed everything.” Eunseok scratches the back of his neck.

“I feel like I just abducted and woke up on Venus.” You squeal, rushing towards your table to dig through the bag.

“Huh?” 

“She’s thankful,” Sohee explains for you. 

“Well, tell your mom I said thank you. Bye, love you.” You rush, pushing him out of the way and slamming the door in his face. 

When you turn back on your heels you’re surprised to see Sohee staring at you with an equally surprised expression on his face. “Are you guys saying that already?” Sohee asks 

“Well, we’re moving kinda Fast because… You know… We just never know when we’re gonna … die.” You laugh awkwardly.

“You know you’re really unpredictable,” Sohee continues to stare.

“What do you mean?” You plop down at your table, half waiting for his explanation but mostly interested in the food in front of you.

“You guys have nothing in common. He’s well known and attractive, but you never cared about that kind of stuff.” Your best friend watches as you unpack the leftovers your “boyfriend” just bought you. ‘You say you love him, but can you name just one thing you like about him?” 

If you were in a serious relationship you might’ve cared about what it was that Sohee had to say, but nothing about this was real. So you couldn’t care. You couldn’t care even if you tried. 

“I like him because his mom knows how to cook.” You answer with your mouth full.

"What did you guys think about that movie I told you to watch?" Ningning asks, walking between you and Sohee. The hallways are full of students and teachers as the three of you walk through the somewhat heavy crowd. 

"I didn't watch it." Sohee shrugs while eating the burrito he begged you to buy because he was "so hungry, he could pass out."

You answer, "It was horrible," ready to give a detailed description of why you hated it and everything that was wrong with it.

"Wasn't it," Ningning replies. 

"I can't believe I let you talk me into watching it." You gasp.

"I had to make sure it wasn't just me." She says, but you don't fully process it because you feel the ghost of someone's hand about to grab yours. On instinct, you attack; what else were you supposed to do? Unfortunately, right after you turn around to punch the stranger in the face, you freeze. The stranger isn't a stranger but your (fake) boyfriend, standing there with a shocked expression and blood dripping from his lip.

"Oh my god." You shriek, "I didn't mean to -"

"It's okay; don't worry about it," Eunseok mutters, but the growing puddle of crimson red liquid tells you that it definitely isn't okay.

"You're bleeding!" You acknowledge reaching for his bottom lip. 

"It's fine, I'll be fine. Let me just take you to class." 

"Well, let me clean you up." You continue, staring at his busted bloody lip. 

"It doesn't even hurt." He cheers, shaking his head. 

"I won't be long; I have my first aid kit right here." 

“You carry around a first aid kit?” He questions, his eyebrows raising in surprise, as you push him into a random empty classroom. “Do you just punch people often?”

“It was an accident.” You answer, your voice softening, as you rip a sanitary wipe open and tap it against his lip. “Why would you even be grabbing my hand in public anyway?” You ask, while continuing to repair his busted lip. 

“You’re my girlfriend; I’m supposed to treat you as such.” He mumbles.

"Fake girlfriend." You respond, your voice tinged with a hint of bitterness, as you sit up with a tube of ointment on display. "Apply this again before you go to sleep tonight, and it should be healed in no time. And don't lick your lips. This stuff tastes disgusting."  

"I don't imagine it would taste like strawberries." He remarks. 

You back away from him with your hands on your hips. "Whatever, you still didn't answer. Why were you sneaking up on me?"  He doesn't say anything for a short few moments, and you can tell that he's thinking about how to say what he's going to say. 

"So my dad is good friends with my coach, and word got around." He mumbles the last part, but it’s intentional this time.

"Word got around?" Your eyes widen at the thought, "So I'm stuck with you?" You ask, raising your hand to push your hair out of your face, and rolling your eyes when you see Eunseok flinch at your sudden movements. 

'You say that like it's a bad thing." 

"It's certainly not a good thing." You shout again. Which only makes Eunseok lean away from you, arms shielding his face. 

"Relax, I'm not gonna hit you." You breathe, "Although I should." 

"Are you mad?" Eunseok says after a long silence. 

You respond sarcastically, "No, of course not." You tilt your head to stare at the basketball player in front of you, wondering how you managed to get yourself into this situation. "In fact I couldn't be happier." 

"Since when were you and Eunseok a thing?" Ningning asks, emphasizing Eunseok's name. 

Ever since the interaction between you and him in the hallway, all you heard was his name. 

"A month," Sohee answers on your behalf,

"You knew?" Ningning whips her head around to the boy. "How come I'm just finding out about this?" 

"I tried to keep it as private as possible." You answer. 

"What, so you told Mr. Blabber mouth over here?" Karina's accusatory finger points at Sohee, who's innocently munching on his sandwich. "You know, you guys really make me feel left out." 

"That's what happens when you choose other people over us?" You shrug. 

"It would still be nice to know about what's going on in my best friend's life." Ningning debates.  "And what about you? Are you datin—never mind?" Ningning stops herself. Both of you know ‌that Sohee was never private about anything. The entire planet would know if he got a girlfriend. Considering he couldn't keep a secret even if his life was at stake.

"How did you even start dating? You two are so… different." The girl rests her chin in her open palm. 

"That's what I said! What could you possibly like about him? He's just some dumb ball player."  Sohee adds. 

“Dumb ball player? You might have a crush on Y/n, but that does not give you the right to down-talk the Song Eunseok.” Ningning jumps up, swinging her finger around.

All you can do is facepalm. This is why you never tell them anything; it always causes an argument. Too immersed in your friends in front of you, you don’t notice when Eusneok appears next to you until he says, “Do you mind if I sit here.” 

“Don’t you wanna sit with your other friends?” You look around the area for all the possible seats he could take besides right next to you. You were starting to think he didn’t understand what personal space was. 

"You're here." He says, occupying the seat without your permission. 

"The more I look at it, it kinda makes sense," Ningning interjects, tilting her head. 

Sohee soon does the same, only to mumble, "I still don't get it." 

"Okay, what are you guys thinking for tonight?" You try to change the subject. You feared that if you talked too much, you'd accidentally reveal how you felt about Eunseok and that this entire bit was fake.

"Why don't we just do Pizza?" Ningning suggests, but Sohee is quick to knock down the idea. 

"We always do pizza. Why don't we do tacos." 

"Mm yeah, tacos sounds good." You nod, "Let's do tacos." 

"I don't want tacos." Ningning frowns, "How about sushi?" 

"I'm good with sushi." Sohee agrees. 

"Perfect, we're going with sushi." You clap, but your joy is short-lived as Eunseok's sudden grip on your wrist startles you, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. 

'What are you guys planning?" He asks.

"Every Friday, the three of us do a game night. It's... it's kinda boring." You say, your voice trailing off, hoping he won't ask to come along. But he doesn't seem to catch the hint.

"Oh really? I'll bring the drinks then." He volunteers

"Oh no, you don't have to." You wave your palms around and shake your head. 

"I don't wanna come empty-handed."

"You don't have to come at all; it's okay." You smile sarcastically. "I'm sure you have better things to do."

"What's better than hanging out with my girlfriend?" He asks, smiling sweetly at you while Ningning squeaks about how cute the two of you are. 

"Since I'm such an awesome girlfriend, I'll let you hang out with your friends tonight." You say through gritted teeth. Squinting as you push his hands away from you.

 "And since I'm an even better boyfriend, I'll hang out with you instead." He grins, overpowering you and pulling in closer to him by your waist.

Sohee grimaces at the sight, "You guys aren't gonna be doing that the whole night, right?" He asks.

Despite all of your attempts to change his mind, Eunseok still finds himself in your living room arguing with Sohee about who knows you better. And leave it up to Ningning to encourage their foolishness. 

“Okay, this one’s easy; what’s her favorite color?” Ningning stands in front of the two boys with flashcards. 

“Blue!” Sohee calls out first. 

“Blue, purple, and green,” Eunseok calls out almost exactly at the same time as Sohee. They both look at you in sync for the answer as your smile grows.

“My favorite color is blue.” You confirm, “and purple and green.” 

You watch Sohee, your melodramatic friend, drop to his knees, his hands gripping his hair in mock despair. “You’re so dramatic,” Ningning chuckles, her laughter filling the room before shuffling the cards to ask another question. 

“Alright, what’s her go-to movie for movie nights.” 

“Umm,” You laugh when Eunseok looks straight at you for the answer. 

“E.T.,” Sohee calls out, jumping and pointing his index finger. He doesn’t have to look at you to find out if he’s right because he knows he is. That’s been your favorite movie since the both of you were kids; you kind of grew out of it since then, but you never missed an opportunity to watch E.T. 

“And the winner is-.” Ningning pauses, eyeing the two boys down for suspicion. “It’s a tie.” She beams. 

Sohee nods and holds his hand out for Eunseok to shake, “You’re cool, I guess.” 

“Thank you.” Eunseok smiles. 

“I still think you don’t deserve her, but you’re not as bad as I thought.” Your best friend explains, looking off to the side. 

“It’s getting late, I’m heading out.” Ningning breaks through the handshake to walk towards your front door. “Let’s go, Sohee.” She calls out behind her. 

“But I wanna finish hanging out with Y/n.” The boy cries but follows after her when she shoots him a deadly look. 

As the door closes behind Sohee, it's just you and Eunseok, the silence amplifying the sense of isolation. 

“I see your lip got better.” You acknowledge it when he sits down on the floor next to you. 

Eunseok taps his bottom lip, “It still hurts, though.” He says. 

You laugh and cup his cheeks with both hands, gently wriggling his face around. “You poor baby, do you want me to kiss it better?” You ask, but he stares at you blankly, his eyes filled with a mix of confusion and amusement. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You lean back from him, but his eyes never leave you. 

“Thanks for inviting me.” He finally says, leaning back against his palms.

“You invited yourself.” 

“Well, thank you for accepting me; I had fun,” Eunseok replies.” You said you do this every Friday?”

“Do not show up at my door every week, Eunseok; my neighbors are gonna think-” We’re dating.” He adds, finishing your sentence. 

“Just don’t show up here every weekend, okay,” 

“Why are you so mean to me?” 

“I have to make sure you understand that we aren’t friends,” You assert. “And when this deal ends, I’ll probably never talk to you again. So don’t get too comfortable.” 

The next afternoon, you're walking through ‌semi-crowded hallways. Sohee and Ningning, being who knows where you mentally plan what you're going to do once you get home. The plans include changing into sweatpants and watching Netflix until you fall asleep on your couch. 

The thought almost brings a smile to your face; there's nothing you love more than the soft touch of your couch, the familiar scent of your home, and the comforting silence that surrounds you when you're doing nothing in the comfort of your own home. 

Amid your blissful thoughts, you feel a hand wrap around your wrist, breaking your reverie. Instinctively, you roll your eyes before you check to confirm that it's Eunseok. "Come watch me practice." He grins when you turn to face him. 

You ask, "Why would I do that?" Pulling your wrist away from him. 

"So you can meet my friends." He says. 

"Why would I do that?" You repeat. 

"Because I met your friends." 

You say, "I'll pass," but Eunseok quickly grabs your wrist again. 

"Come on, it'll be fun." He doesn't wait for you to agree or disagree before he pulls you towards the gym. 

You were quickly learning about Eunseok. He didn't understand physical boundaries, or any boundaries for that matter, and he loved to ignore everything that came out of your mouth. You could say this was your fault. You let him dangle money over your head, and now you're stuck with him for the next few months. 

Eunseok shifts his hand from your wrist to intertwine his fingers with yours. And before you know it, you're surrounded by sweaty basketball players in the gym. You hear their shoes squeak against the gym floor, along with the bouncing of basketballs. This was the first time you'd ever entered the school gym, considering you never had a reason to. Sports aren't your thing, and before now, you never imagined that you'd end up with a sports player. 

"Yeah, no, I don't want to do this." You mutter, your voice barely audible as you try to walk away. But with your hand still firmly held by Eunseok, a simple tug is all it takes to bring you back into the uncomfortable setting. 

He pleads, "Just this one time.' 

"What am I supposed to do here?" You frown, looking around the dimly lit gym, the sound of sneakers squeaking on the polished floor echoing in your ears.

"Relax and watch your boyfriend play basketball." He smirks down at you. 

You whine, "You're not even my boyfriend." You use your other fist to punch his chest weakly, but as always, your words fall on deaf ears. 

"You're late." A stranger calls out from a few feet away from you. His tone seems harsh, a clear sign of tension, but you ignore it by clinging onto Eunseok. As the unnamed man gets closer, his eyes find yours, and he begins glaring at you, his silent threat hanging in the air. 

“Y/n this is Sungchan.” Eunseok gestures towards the boy in front of you, "And Sungchan, this is." You notice his breath hitch when he pauses. “Y/n.” 

Sungchan looks at you again, but he doesn't do anything else to acknowledge you. "Don't show off because your girlfriend’s  here." He says last before walking away. Allowing you the chance to finally breathe.

"I don't think this was a good idea." 

“Don’t worry he’s not always like that.” Eunseok explains to help make you feel better but it does the direct opposite. 

“Great so it’s just me.” You frown. 

He turns you around so that your facing him, as he takes each of your hands into his own. “Don’t think too much about it okay.” 

“I won’t.” You nod. 

“I’ll go get changed, you can wait over there.” He points with your hand still connected to his. “When were done I’ll treat you to lunch.” 

“If I have to sit here for an hour I’m leaving.” 

An hour quickly turned into two, but you remained planted on the bleachers. You would never say it to him, or even aloud, but you actually enjoyed watching him play. It was entertaining to see how much he enjoyed basketball and how broad his smile was when he turned to you every time he scored. 

You never thought you’d be this into sports, or maybe it was the boy playing the sport.

As practice comes to an end, Eunseok approaches you. “I want to introduce you to my friends.” He says. You look behind his shoulder to see Sungchan already looking at you and shake your head. 

“No, I’ll pass.” You stand up in front ‌of him and grab your bag to leave. 

“It’ll be quick.” He says,

“I have things to do, Eunseok.” You say, Attempting to walk away. Eunseok lets you take two steps before he reaches for your wrist to pull you into his arms and picks you up, barely enough for your feet to hang above the floor. 

“Eunseok.” You slam your fist around his arms, “Put me down.” You continue, but he only laughs, finally landing you on your feet when you’re in front of his friends. 

“Y/n this is Shotaro.” He points to the smiley boy standing beside Sungchan, “That’s Seunghan. That’s Anton, and you’ve met Sungchan already.” 

“How long have you guys been dating?” Shotaro asks before finishing the rest of his water bottle. 

Eunseok answers, “Four months.” 

"Four months, and you haven't told us," Seunghan asks. 

"I wasn't ready to meet anyone yet," You say, your voice dripping with sarcasm. Eunseok chuckles nervously, attempting to diffuse the tension. Your gaze meets Sungchan's, a silent exchange of unspoken words, before he finally breaks the silence.

"Well, if we're finally meeting you, that must mean you're serious, huh?" He says, looking at you.

"You never know what could happen. We might break up tomorrow." You look up at Eunseok, hoping he'll get the message.

Eunseok responds, "But we're not breaking up anytime soon." Wrapping his arm around you. 

Though you're mildly upset with Eunseok, you're even more uncomfortable with the way his basketball mate is eyeing you down. And while you'd usually push your (fake) boyfriend away, you feel the need to hold him closer, mainly because he was the only person in the room who felt somewhat familiar to you.

"Anything could happen," you say while simultaneously resting your head against him, hoping to ease that anxious feeling you're getting. 

Eunseok notices something's wrong when you begin to get unusually touchy—turning in his arms to rest your head against his chest. Their voices become nothing but distant sounds as you disassociate into your thoughts. 

"Are you ready to go?" He whispers into your ear. 

You mutter, "I've been ready to go since we got here." You feel the vibrations in his chest when he laughs. 

"Let's go." He says, reaching for your hand.

"Wait, you don't —""Aren't you hungry?" He interrupts, and you nod, allowing him to guide you out of the gym.

"Didn't know you could be so clingy." Eunseok comments as he reaches to open your drink since you were struggling with opening it yourself. 

He grins, "Here," when passing your drink back and watching you get flustered.

"I don't think we should keep meeting each other's friends." You blurt after thanking him. "It'll just make things more awkward after we break up. They'll want to comfort us and all that weird stuff." 

The way Eunseok looks at you makes your heart skip a beat. Out of nervousness, you take a bite of your sandwich to distract yourself from his gaze. "You're thinking about breaking up already?" He asks.

"How long did you plan on doing this?" You respond, "You know we'll have to stop eventually." 

Eunseok sits back in his seat, "I like introducing you as my girlfriend." he says 

"I think you need a real relationship instead of paying me to pretend with you. It's embarrassing, actually." 

"Maybe I like pretending with you," You look up to see that he isn't even looking at you. He has your heart skipping beats, and he couldn't even give you the decency to look at you.

"Enjoy it while it lasts, 'cause it won't be long." You assert to hide the way you're feeling. 

"I'm thinking about buying a skateboard," Sohee reveals. The clinking of plates and forks around you fades into nothing when you look at your friend wide-eyed. You were used to spontaneous, crazy ideas from him, but they didn't usually include potential suicide.

 "A skateboard?" You repeat

"Do you even know how to skate?" Ningning asked, playfully teasing as she took a bite of her salad.

Sohee looks away. "No, but I have free will and think it could help land me a girlfriend."  

"I think it just would make you look like an idiot with a skateboard." You shrug, "But to each their own." As you wrap your sentence up, you check your phone for the notification that just came in. 

My everything: I miss you

My everything: Let's hang out.

"You know what? I think a skateboard might actually suit you, suit you," you say, trying to dismiss the message you just received.

You observe Sohee's face lighting up. "I knew you'd agree with me," he beams. Then, he turns to Ningning and asks, "Why can't you be more supportive?"

"I can't wait to watch you fall on your face." You add, and Sohee's smile gradually fades. Your phone vibrates a few more times, drawing skeptical glares from both Sohee and Ningning.

"Aren't you gonna answer that?" Ninging speaks up first, her voice tinged with concern. You feel a familiar pang of anxiety as you glance down at your phone, quickly dismissing the call with a hesitant shake of your head. "No, um, it's just spam or something, no one really important," you mumble, hoping to convince both yourself and your friends. Sohee leans in, his brow furrowed in thought. "Have you tried blocking them?" he asks, his tone suggesting a practical solution to what seems like a trivial problem.

"It's no point. They're just going to keep coming back. I'll tell him we aren't friends, and he'll keep bothering me because he doesn't understand anything I say." You vent, the tension in the room thickening as you mindlessly stab the chicken on your tray. 

Sohee readjusts himself in his seat, feeling visibly uncomfortable now since the vibe in the room has changed. "I think blocking him might help with that."

You reach for your phone and press the power button, watching as the screen goes dark. "That should take care of it," you mutter, placing the phone face up on the table. With your attention no longer occupied by the phone, Sohee visibly relaxes, and Ninging seizes the opportunity to steer the conversation in a new direction.

"So, how's everything going with Eunseok?" she asks, a cautious grin spreading across her face.

“Why are you always bringing him up?” You whine. 

“I just wanna know the details. How come you never share the details?” She persists.

You shake your head, “There’s no details to share.” 

“I find it hard to believe that you two are actually dating,” she argues, her top lip turning up. You have nothing to say to that; you’ve been trying your best to sell your act, but you're no actor, and you were never really good at pretending to like people that you didn't.

“We're dating. It’s real.” You nod, using your drink to avoid eye contact. 

“Well, why does it seem like you don’t like him?” Ningning rests her elbows on the table, which makes you nervous for some reason.

"Like him? Please, I like him so much you could even say I love him," you reply with a forced laugh. "Can we change the subject?"

“There’s a basketball game tomorrow; I know we don’t usually go to the games, but I think it could be fu-” Ninging trails off when you throw your head back and groan. 

“I’m not doing this.” 

“Why don’t you wanna go support your boyfriend.” Ningning doesn’t back down. You always told her she could be a lawyer since she had the knack of always getting the truth out of someone. You just hated that she always used her talents on you.

"Sohee, what kind of skateboard are you thinking about getting?" You ask, ignoring the way NIngning looks at you. 

"You know you make it hard for me to believe that two of you are actually dating." She challenges, her tone laced with skepticism.

"I don't know what to tell you. Go ask him yourself, I guess." You shrug

"Name five things you like about Sohee." Ningning spurs randomly. 

"Easy, Umm, he's a good listener; he's fun to be around. He knows the best food places and has a good sense of humor. I like his smile and his fluffy hair."

"Okay, that's six things." 

"I can make it seven. He's fun-sized," you add with a chuckle, the humor in your voice lightening the mood. 

"Okay, great, that's seven. Now, name one thing you like about your boyfriend." 

"He's… Well, he's good at basketball." 

"You know, Ningning is right. I'm more convinced you have a crush on me than you do your boyfriend," Sohee interjects. 

"Whatever, think whatever you want. I don't care." You throw your hands up in defense.

"Yeah, you're not very convincing." Ningning laughs, and Sohee joins her. 

The gymnasium is filled to the brim. You just hope that it's full enough for you to go unnoticed by your boyfriend or any of his teammates. You lost Sohee and Ningning to the concession stand and the group of girls who stopped to ask Sohee if he knew how to skate.

"I'm going to go find seats," you call out, but with all the commotion happening around you, neither of them hears you. 

So you roamed the busy gym by yourself, hiding at the sight of any jersey you saw, especially any jersey with the number thirty nine. Unfortunately for you, there were hundreds of jerseys, with thirty nine going around.

"Hey." A somewhat familiar voice appeared behind you, causing you to stop right in your tracks. You think you'd rather have run into Eunseok, but Sungchan finds you instead. 

You slowly turn to see the tall boy hovering over you, already dressed in his basketball attire. "Hey." You say, sucking in a breath. His gaze is much different than the one he had a week ago; it's softer now, and you think you even see a smile. Still, you hold your breath, scared he might yell at you at any second now that Eunseok isn't around. 

"Umm," he shakes his head, "He's down there." Sungchan points to the very boy you've been avoiding. Thankfully, he's turned away from you, seemingly preoccupied with another conversation. 

"Oh, thanks." You nod.

"I can walk you down if you want." He insists, and you shake your head. 

"No- I think I'm gonna go to the restroom." You point. "I might've drank a little too much." 

"Yeah," he stands, lingering around like he wants to say something else, and you continue holding your breath. "Do you know where the restrooms are? or do you want me to walk you?" 

"I think I can handle finding them on my own." 

"Yeah, yeah, of course." 

"Yeah," you laugh. Shortly after, he laughs along with you. "Good luck with the game, Sungchan." 

"Thanks." He says just before you run off to hide in the restroom. The idea seems great at first, but you begin to have your doubts when you see rolls of toilet paper stringed along the floor, and each stall has evidence of someone else's previous activities. 

You're sure you can find somewhere else to hide out until the game starts, no big deal. 

However, when you see Eunseok leaning against the wall outside, waiting for you, you aren't so certain.

"Damnit, Sungchan," you think to yourself as you look the other way and attempt to pass your boyfriend. 

You thought you had almost slipped away when you felt his hand wrap around your wrist. "You really are here," He grinned as you turned to face him.

"Not because I want to be." You huff, "My friends forced me to come." 

"But if you tell them that you're better without me here, I bet they'll leave me alone," you think aloud. Eunseok smiles to match yours; based on that alone, you get a peak of hope. 

"Yeah, of course." He nods. 

"Okay, umm, just go wait over there. I'll find them, and then you can just say something like, 'Why are you here? I told you not to come. You're going to make me nervous and go home seriously.' And they'll buy it." You grin.

"Right…" 

"Oh, you're the best, thank you. I'll be right back!" you yell, drifting farther away to find your friends. 

"Guys," you panted, holding onto your knees as you caught your breath. “The game is about to start. We need to-" You snatched the water bottle from Sohees's grip and finished the rest of it, which just happened to be the entire thing. 

"We should go sit down, don't wanna miss the game." You pop up.

"But-"Ningning frowns, gesturing to the one person in line in front of her. "I've been waiting here for thirty minutes. I want my hotdog." 

“No time. Let’s go.” You rush, pulling her along with you to the spot you and Eunseok agreed to meet up at. 

Just as promised, Eunseok looks surprised to see you. “Hey, what are you doing here?” He asks, pulling you into a bear hug. 

“I came to watch you play obviously.” You mumbled into his chest. 

“I thought you told me you wouldn’t come.” He says loud enough for your two friends to hear. “I guess you wanted to surprise me.” 

Your eyes go wide and you attempt to push him off of you but that only makes him cling onto you tighter. “Eunseok.” 

He coos, "I'm so glad I have a girlfriend that supports me." Easing up on his hold. "I know I'm gonna do much better now that you're here." He grins despite the way you're glaring at him. 

"You two are so cute. We're going to give you some space." Ningning calls from behind you while Sohee continues to glower at the entire thing. 

"What the hell was that?" You ask as soon as they leave.

"I'm kind of busy right now, but we can talk afterward, right?" He smirks and leans down to kiss your cheek. "Wish me luck." 

"Break a leg." You shout as he backs away from you. "Or both of them." 

The game starts while you're still stomping your way through the gym, your lips turn down into a mean frown, and your arms crossed over your chest. Ningning spots you first and waves her hand around for you to sit between her and Sohee.

"You look mad." Sohee acknowledges.

"Mad? Why would I be mad?" You laugh sarcastically. "I'm not mad."

"He looked at me." The girl behind you squeaks. "Eunseok looked at me." 

"Because of that." Your best friend mutters.

"Y/n isn't a jealous person. it's going to take a lot more than some freshman to tick her off." Ningning speaks up, but she's proved wrong when you turn around and glare at the younger girl. 

"Where'd you get that?" You ask, referring to her jersey.

 "I made it." She beams, "Eunseok is my favorite player."

"Give it to me." 

"No, it's mine." She pouts, possessively holding her garment.

You breathe and reach into your back pocket for your wallet. She looks at you confused when you pull out a hundred-dollar bill. "What's your name?" You ask.

"Lea." She says barely.

"Alright, Lea. I'm going to give you this." You wave around the money, "and you're going to give me that jersey. Okay?"

She nods hesitantly.

"Good girl." You coo, passing her the money and waiting patiently as she pulls the shirt over her head and passes it to you. 

It takes less than a second to slide it over your clothes and marvel at how good it looks. "Perfect fit?"  You smile, and she smiles back, holding a thumbs up. 

"That went a lot better than I thought it would," Ningning comments, her voice filled with relief and amusement, while Sohee picks at the material of your newly acquired jersey.

"Wow, did you actually make this?" He turns to ask, and Lea nods. "This is so good." He continues playing with your shirt until you push his hand away. 

"Do you skate?" She asks. Sohee looks down at the useless skateboard and then up at you, who's giving him a knowing look, anticipating his lie.

"Umm, no, I just thought it would be cool to walk around with." He utters, "But I'm learning."

"That is so cool." She giggles. 

"You think so?" 

You look at Ningning, eyes furrowed, and Ningning looks back at you with the same expression. Neither of you thought that his plan would actually work. 

"Do you wanna come sit by me?" Lea taps the empty spot next to her. He looks to both of his friends for permission, and you nod. 

The game goes on pretty well for the next 30 minutes, or so you assume. You weren't really sure; you just cheered when everyone else cheered and booed when everyone else booed. "Woo." You jump out of your seat, fist in the air. "That's my boyfriend." 

"You're cheering for the wrong team." Ningning informs you. 

"Oh." You pause. "Boo, you suck." Your best friend laughs as you lower back in your seat and continue to watch Eunseok play quietly for the rest of the game. Occasionally locking eyes with Sungchan.

Once everything is over, Eunseok finds you first. "Hey," he announces, interrupting your conversation with Ningning. 

"Hey," You gasp, feeling his warm breath on your neck. He wraps his arms around your waist and draws your back to his chest.

"Do you mind if I walk her home?" Eunseok asks Ningning, his chin resting on your shoulder.

"You can't; we have to look for Sohee." You explain but Ningning shakes her head.

"I don't mind; she was talking about you too much anyway. It was starting to get annoying." Your best friend beams when you scowl at her. "I'll see you tomorrow. Have fun. Bye." 

And when she skips away, Eunseok only pulls you closer to tug on the hem of your shirt. "What's this?" He questions. 

"Someone gave it to me. I figured it'd be rude if I didn't wear it." You lie. "I'm not wearing it for you."

You're scared you'll spill everything if he looks at you any longer. Luckily for you, he just nods and changes the subject. "Sungchan told me you wished him good luck." He says, taking your hand in his.

"I did."

"You told me to break a leg." He responds, sticking his bottom lip out unintentionally. 

"Isn't that a phrase of encouragement? You know, like when people say 'break a leg' before an audition because they want them to get the part." You start rambling even though you know exactly what you meant.

"They don't tell them to break both legs." He says.

You bite back a laugh. "Well, I just wanted you to do really good." 

The sky is pitch dark, not even the stars shine on the warm night. The only light comes from the dimly lit street lamps, casting long shadows on the deserted streets. But you're not gazing at the heavens. You're too busy navigating the path, trying to avoid colliding with Eunseok every few steps.

"Oh, how come you haven't responded to my texts? Is your phone broken?" he asks, breaking the silence you were slowly getting used to.

"No, my phone is fine; I just didn't wanna talk to you." 

He raises an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Ouch," He teases, a smirk playing on his lips.

"I have an idea." You stop and jump in front of him. "Why don't I help you find a real girlfriend? Then we can stop this." 

He looks up and pretends to think, giving you a few seconds of silence before he smiles down at you. "Nope."

"What?" 

 "I don't want to." He shakes his head.

"Have you ever thought about how this is affecting my life?" You whine when he grabs your hand and pulls you back next to him.

"I have, actually. You get a weekly stipend, free game tickets, and an amazing boyfriend. Could things get any better for you?" 

"I have two friends who keep poking their noses into my romantic life and a weirdo who doesn't listen to anything I say." You mutter. 

"I guess there's that too." He grins. "You still have an amazing boyfriend, though, so I think that evens it out." 

"You're not my boyfriend." As suspected, your words go into one ear and straight through the other. He keeps his same stupid grin on his face and your hand wrapped in his until he walks you to your apartment.

“I wonder what my girlfriend is doing.” Sohee pouts, tucking his chin into the palm of his hand. 

“Probably thinking of all the ways to break up with you.” Ningning laughs, and you start to laugh with her, but it quickly turns into a coughing fit. 

“Sorry, guys.” You sniff.

“Don’t worry, girl. It’s fine.” Ningning reassured but continued to back away. 

Sohee passes you a napkin. “Are you getting sick?” 

“I hope not; I don’t wanna cancel our game night.” 

“We might have to,” Ningning speaks. “Don’t worry, we always have next week.”

“But we’ve never missed a week.” You cry, “We’re going so strong I don’t wanna ruin it.” 

Ningning shakes her head. “My health is-“ She stops when she notices how you and Sohee look at her. “Your health is far more important than game nights.” She corrects herself. “So just get some rest. We’ll try again next week.”

You sniff, “Okay.” 

And just as planned, you took Friday off, as your cold just got worse. Your head was banging, your throat was dry, and your nose was so stuffed you could only breathe through your mouth. 

You rotted in your bed, your body temperature far too warm for you to relax, but the room far too cold for you to leave your covers, which was very ironic to you because you set the temperature to seventy-five degrees before you got into bed the night before.

Just as you were about to drift into a peaceful slumber, a sudden knock at the door shattered the tranquility. Frustrated, you reluctantly left the warmth of your bed and trudged through your apartment, emitting groans reminiscent of a zombie. 

"Game nights canceled." You sneeze into your elbow. 

"I heard." Eunseok sneaks his way past you and into your apartment.

"Why are you here then?" You question. 

"To check on you." He responds, "You weren't answering my phone calls."

"I'm sick; I don't really feel like talking right now." You sneeze again. "We'll talk tomorrow, okay?" You rush, pushing him towards and out of the door. He tries to get a few words in, but he's not able to say anything before you yell, "Bye." And slam the door in his face. 

Exhausted, you made your way back to the couch, too weary to even consider returning to your bed.

Around twenty minutes later, there's another knock at the door, and you want to cry out of anger. The more you get up, the more your head hurts. Once again, you're met with Song Eunseok. "Do you listen to anything I say?" You ask, but he only smiles fondly at you.

"I brought medicine." Eunseok covers his face with the hefty medical supply he bought for you. 

“I didn’t ask for it.”

He presses a kiss on your warm cheek. “You’re welcome.” He says before squeezing in past you and closing the door. You fold your arms and watch him find his way to your kitchen. He sits the bag on the table, slides his hoodie off, and folds it over your chair.

“I have a headache, Eunseok; I don’t have time for your games today.”

“Perfect, I bought Tylenol.” He shakes the bottle of supplements.

“Your coach is gonna hate me if I get you sick too.” You plead.

Eunseok finally pauses his movements to say, “I’ll be fine,” nonchalantly as if you weren’t losing your mind at the thought of him missing any of his practices of games because of you—all of the girls who’d line up at your door because their favorite player isn’t playing. You were just sorta getting on good terms with Sungchan; imagine how he’d react if you got his teammate sick.  

“I can hear the death threats now.” You whine, “I’ll take all the medicine, Eunseok. Just go home, please.”

Despite your cries and pleas, he only sighs. “I have to make sure you eat. You can’t take medicine on an empty stomach,” Eunseok informs ever so calmly.

Tilting your head back, you throw your arms down. Your lips naturally fall into a frown. “Why are you making this so hard?” 

“Why are you being so dramatic?” He leaves the kitchen to stand in front of you. Each of his hands lands on your shoulders. The warmth of his touch seeps through your clothes, calming your nerves. “It’s just a small cold. You’re not going to die, and neither am I.” He adds, guiding you to sit on your trim, cozy sofa. “Just relax.”

Something about the way he says it actually makes you want to relax. You inhale and let your shoulders fully rest. “See, that feels nice, doesn’t it?” He coos, his voice soothing and comforting.

“But if you get sick-“ ”I’ll be fine because you’ll be here to take care of me.” He finishes.

He’s not going anywhere; you’ve come to that conclusion when he begins pulling out pots and pans and chopping vegetables in your kitchen. However, you can’t say that it bothers you. With each passing day, your feelings towards him were shifting. You were learning more about him as a person. He was someone that his little brother looked up to, someone that his friends admired and respected. And slowly, he was becoming someone you adored, someone you were starting to have deep feelings for.

You were becoming more comfortable with his presence, so much so you could even say you craved it at times. 

“Drink this.” He mutters, holding a bottle of electrolytes to your lips. This time, you don’t fight him; you don’t have the energy. He taps a napkin under your chin to clean and sits the empty bottle on the coffee table.

“I don’t want to eat; I want to sleep.” You mumble, eyes half closed, when he picks up the homemade soup. 

“Just eat a little, then you can sleep.” 

You open your mouth to say something else but Eunsoek uses that as an opportunity to start spoon feeding you. The soup is warm, and delicious it almost distracts you from the fact that he was feeding you. 

Almost.

“I can feed myself.” You grumble. Voice hoarse as you attempt to get the spoon from his hand. He’s quicker to pull it away from you.

“Would you just let me be a good boyfriend?” Eunseok asks, dipping the spoon and bringing it back up to the tip of your lips.

“You’re not-“ You huff and roll your eyes, accepting defeat. “Fine.” You breathe reluctantly  allowing him to continue spoon feeding you. The pattern continues until the bowl is empty, your stomach is full and your eyelids are heavy. 

“See that wasn’t so bad was it?” He asks but the only response he gets is a hum from while you shift on the couch and rest your head in his lap. 

“Can I go to sleep now?” You respond sluggishly against his thigh. 

Eunseok croons, “I won’t stop you.” As he slides the polyester blanket up to your shoulder. Pushing your hair out of your face when you curl up against him. 

As soon as he gives you permission, you let yourself drift off to sleep. Maybe it was the warmth of the soup, the soothing effects of the medicine, or perhaps it was the gentle way he strokes your head. You find yourself much more at ease with his presence compared to two hours ago when you were tossing and turning in bed, struggling to find a comfortable sleeping position.

As you awaken, you find yourself nestled in your bed, cocooned within the worn, soft pink comforter. The morning sunlight streams through the curtains, gently warming your face as you slowly open your eyes. A deep yawn breaks the silence as you slowly stretch your arms and arch your back. You notice that your breathing feels clearer, and the scratchiness in your throat has significantly decreased since yesterday. 

Knowing you have only one person to thank for that, you skip to your living room. Smiling internally when you see Eunseok asleep on your couch, his legs hanging off the sofa because of how tall he was. You kneel in front of him and lay your hand on his chest just barely, but it's enough to wake him up. 

As his eyes slowly flutter open, you hear Eunseok's gentle voice inquire, "How do you feel?" His warm hand reaches out to brush your forehead, checking for any signs of a fever. 

A soft smile spreads across your face as he then caresses your cheek. "I feel better," you murmur, savoring the tender touch.

"Are you hungry?" You ask eagerly, infused with warmth toward him. "I'm really not a good cook but I could order something."

Fake dating was starting to get easier. Once you realized you were getting paid to hold some basketball player's hand and call yourself his girlfriend, everything else just fell into place.

Mostly everything.

You weren't as comfortable around Eunseok's friends as He was around yours. Avoiding them seemed to be the best option, but Sungchan was making that so much harder for you.

"Catch," Shotaro calls right before a basketball comes flying straight toward your head. You should've moved or even attempted to dodge it, but you go into shock, your feet planted firmly on the ground, and your eyes squeezed shut as the ball gets closer. You wait for the ball to come into contact with your face, but it never does. 

"Careful." Sungchan sounds, throwing the ball back to his teammate. Slowly, your eyes flutter open, turning to see Sungchan standing behind you. On instinct, you shuffle away from him but nearly trip over your own two feet, and he quickly reaches to grab you by your arm and steady you. 

"Sorry, I- umm- I didn't mean to interrupt you guys I was just looking for-" You weren't usually nervous like this, and it wasn't a lot of people who could get this reaction out of you but much like Euneseok's father, Sungchan scared the life out of you.

"He isn't here." He states. 

"Okay, thanks."  You scramble towards the exit without saying another word, your heart racing and your palms sweaty. 

Your second encounter with him was when you were walking down the busy hallway. Preoccupied by your phone, you weren't paying attention to where you were going. It was a habit of yours that Sohee was trying to help you break since you were in high school. But like you always say, old habits die hard.

Sohee: Quick, Lea is demanding I take her on a date. What do girls like?

Ningning: Teach her how to skateboard. I'm sure she'd love that. 🤭

Sohee: this is serious 

 You: I already told you all girls aren't the same. Ask her what she wants.

Sohee: I tried that, she told me to figure it out.

Ningning: 😭😭

You: dude. buy her flowers or something, she’d probably enjoy a cute picnic.

Sohee: She's allergic to bees. What if I take her on a picnic and she gets stung and dies like in that one movie.

You're still typing when you run face-first into the soft flesh of someone's palm. You blink once, twice before following the trail of their arm back to Sungchan's face. "Watch where you're going." He glares down at you, his stern gaze making you feel small and vulnerable.

You can tell he's trying to be endearing, but it sounds harsh and doesn't help your racing heart or the hundred thoughts swirling in your mind. Most of them conclude with you breaking into tears right there on the spot.

"I'm sorry." you spur and run the opposite way, knowing that it's going to take longer to get to your next class. 

Another time, you're wandering around the student library searching for a specific book. It was closing soon, and you knew you had to hurry, but the book was nowhere to be found. You had already asked the librarian three times, so you weren't really eager to ask her again for the fourth time, but you did anyway. Tiptoeing back to the main desk as if it would decrease your embarrassment in any way. 

"Hey, umm, are you sure the book is in section C? I checked a few times and couldn't find it," you ask.

"You can't find it?" The older woman repeats, and you nod. 

"No."

"That's too bad." She snickers almost like a witch, which would've intrigued you any other time, but right now, you were desperate. 

"Okay." You pull your lips into a tight-lipped smile and turn away from the desk. Treading back towards the section she advised you earlier and running your fingers through each book. You make it to the bottom of the shelf before you throw your head back and huff in sheer frustration. That's when your eyes land on the very book you've spent fifty minutes looking for, all the way at the top of the shelf. 

Quickly, you push yourself up on your feet and stick your arm over your head, except the book is out of your reach. You stand on your tippy toes and try again; this time, just as you're about to grab it, another hand comes into view and pulls it right over you.

"Hey." You call, spinning around to confront the book thief. But your arms nearly get weak when you catch sight of Sungchan, holding your book. 

It happens again: Your stomach is twirling, your heartbeat is unsteady, and your palms are so sweaty that if you wiped them against your shirt, you would probably leave handprints. 

"I kinda need that." Your voice, tinged with vulnerability, comes out a lot smaller than you had planned for it to.

"This?" He asks, showing off the book.

You nod, your eyes trained to the object in his large hands.

A faint smirk played at the corner of Sungchan's lips. "Why should I give it to you?" he teases.

"Because I'm your friend's girlfriend." You blink bashfully, hoping that would be enough for him. 

Suddenly, his lips straighten out into a thin line, and you think you might've even seen him straighten up. "Right," he mutters, handing the book over. 

Just like that?  You think to yourself, your relief palpable as you hesitantly accept the book, half-expecting him to pull it back right when you get the tips of your fingertips on it. 

"Thanks- uh, Thank you." You stutter. 

He utters, "Yeah." And walks away, leaving you even more confused than before. 

You figured things were probably never going to get easier with his friends, but that wasn't a permanent problem since you and Eunseok weren't going to be "dating" for much longer anyway. 

It's pitch dark when your eyes flutter open. From the lack of light, you knew it still had to be midnight. You throw your hand around and blindly search for your vibrating phone, not without wondering who could be calling you so late at night. 

“Hello?” You utter breathlessly into your phone speaker, eyelids half open and not knowing who’s voice you’re going to hear on the other line.

“I didn’t think you’d answer.” Eunseok sounds directly in your ear. The base of his voice causes your eyes to fully open. You can hear that he’s been up for a while, or maybe he hasn’t gotten any sleep at all. 

“What do you want?” You groan, “I’m not leaving my bed.”

“I just wanna talk to you, I can’t sleep.” His confession has you rolling over to face the ceiling. Suddenly you’re no longer tired and you wonder why that is. 

“You have friends to talk to.”

“We’re not as close as you think.” You can hear him shuffle in his bed, presumably to get more comfortable.

“Neither are we.” You debate but he knows that isn’t entirely true. If you really disliked him as much as you say you do you would’ve hung up on him the second you heard his voice. Yet you chose to sacrifice your sleep to keep him entertained and that told him everything he needed to know. 

“Fair, but I don’t like them as much as I like you.” Eunseok responds after a long period of silence. 

“You’re always saying weird stuff.” You try but fail to contain your smile. 

“I’m just being honest.” He says.

Choosing to ignore his indirect confession, you turn on your side and you can hear that he turns in his bed too. There’s another moment of isolated silence but it isn’t awkward. Hearing his slow breaths on the other line is quite calming.

You whisper, “Eunseok.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Can I ask you a question?” You ask

“Shoot.”

“How come you can’t find a real girlfriend?” 

For the next ten seconds he doesn’t say anything and you check the phone a few times to make sure he hasn’t hung up. “I haven’t found anyone that caught my eye.” Eunseok finally answers, but that’s far from the answer you were expecting.

“No one?” You ask. “I don’t believe that.” 

He laughs breathlessly against your ear, “Well how come you aren’t dating anyone?” He flips the question around.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed. But you’re the only weirdo willing to date me.” You giggle and expect him to do the same but it’s quiet on his end, except for the ruffling of sheets when he sits up on his elbows.

“You and I both know that’s not true.” He nearly scolds. “Sungchans been interested in you for a long time.” 

“Really?” You jump up. Somehow it makes sense when you think about it. The distant stares, the nonchalant attitude. You just wondered if Sungchan knew how scary he was when he was trying to flirt.

"Yeah," Eunseok sighs, "He was pretty pissed when he found out about us, but aside from him, I'm sure there were other guys who've asked you out."

You play with the closest thing to you, which happened to be the fluffy pink bunny Ningning brought you for your birthday a few years back. Humming as you think about the handful of boys that have asked you out on dates, you twirl the bunny's long ears absentmindedly, "No one that I was interested in." 

"So you're interested in me?" You can practically hear his smile when he speaks. 

"You're paying me. Plus, I wanted to see what was so great about the Song Eunseok." You tease. 

"And what have you learned?" He asks

"You're annoying, but you're not as bad as I thought you'd be." It goes silent again. Only the sounds of your wobbly ceiling fan and the noises from his background fill the room. After so much silence, you begin to bite your cheek in anticipation. Had he fallen asleep? You think to yourself.

"I'm glad you agreed to do this with me." He finally speaks, and you jerk your head towards the phone. "I like having you as my fake girlfriend." 

"You're always saying weird stuff." 

"You'll get used to it," Eunseok responds. The tone of his voice tells you he's most likely fighting to keep his eyes open, that is if he hasn't already given up trying and just let himself sink fully into the comfort of his bed. 

"You should get some sleep; we have class in the morning." You say just above a whisper, half afraid to disturb his sleep.

He mumbles, "Don't hang up." Which causes your lips to turn up against your pillow. 

"Don't tell me you're afraid of the dark." You say sarcastically. 

"I'm just not ready to end the call," He murmurs, his voice rough and drawn out. You wish you could succumb to sleep as easily as he does, but you're left with your face buried in the soft cotton pillow, eyes wide open, mind racing.

 If this was fake, why did it feel so real?

You utter, "We still aren't friends, Eunseok." But the only thing you get in response is a soft snore. 

Muffled coughs, dim lights, anxious tapping. There’s no place in the world you hate more than the library, yet here you were, head buried in your notebook, bouncing your leg up and down. 

“Mind if I sit here.” Eunseok appears out of nowhere, sliding into the seat right next to you before you can grant him permission.

“What are you doing, Eunseok?” You sigh, pushing your hair back. 

“You looked like you could use some company.” He whispers back, a smile spread upon his lips. “Don’t worry, I’ll stay quiet.” 

You suck in a deep breath and go back to focusing on your notes. Eunseok follows your lead, keeping as quiet as he promised he would. He stays so quiet you almost forget he’s there. 

His presence becomes known again when you feel stares coming your way. You can practically feel the heat of the gazes burning into the side of your face, occasionally looking up to lock eyes with a stranger or two. 

You ignored it at first. It's just a few sets of eyes on you, no big deal. Soon, it becomes too many eyes for you to bear. Mainly because you know why they're looking. You sit up in your seat and glare at the cause of your distraction.

"This isn't gonna work." You breathe. 

Cluelessly, he lifts his head from his laptop. "I didn't do anything." He frowns. 

"You didn't have to." You gesture your head towards the wandering eyes and hushed whispers. "They're not looking at me." 

"I can't help that." 

"I know you can't, but I really need to finish this essay, and I'd rather do it without people staring," you explain. Judging by the look on his face and the way he nods, you think he understands.

"I guess I'll just see you tonight then." 

"I told you not to show up at my apartment." You scold as he packs his stuff up. He doesn't say anything, and you know he's ignoring you on purpose. "Hey." You call out and catch when a smirk plays on the corner of his lips. 

“I’m serious, Eunseok, don’t stop by.” You half whisper, but it counts for nothing when he leans in to press a kiss to your cheek.

He’s gone before you could yell at him any further. You slouch in your seat and sigh as you check the notifications on your buzzing voice phone.

Sohee: Can’t make it tonight. Lea wants me to help her dog sit 

Ningning: You know, I’m starting to not like this new girlfriend of yours.

You: No worries, ningning and I will have enough fun for you. 

Ningning: We won’t?? I’m not third wheeling you and Eunseok.

You: Noo please, this is the one thing I look forward to every week. He won’t be there I promise. Don’t do this to me please. 

Ningning: Lie to me again. 

You: Fine, Eunseok and I will have enough fun for the both of you. 

You breathe in frustration right before you bury your head into your arms, biting your lip to stop from crying. Tears swelling up against your waterline as you sniffle. Two weeks without your weekly hangouts you were just inches away from losing it.

You sit contently in your apartment, alone. Lights from the television flash on the wall behind you. “I taught him how to talk now. He can talk now.” You quote along with the movie, followed by a laugh. 

You pause the movie and throw your legs over the couch when you hear a knock at the door. Assuming it’s the pizza you ordered, you open the door, but the man behind the door isn’t wearing a pizza delivery uniform, and he certainly doesn’t have your medium two-topping pizza in the palm of his hand.

“Eunseok.” You frown with disappointment. 

“Don’t be too excited to see me.” He sneaks in past you, taking notice of your empty apartment and the miscellaneous pieces of popcorn thrown around the front of your couch.

“Everyone canceled.” You mutter. 

"Perfect, so it's just us." 

"What are you doing here, Eunseok?" You turn to face him, arms crossed. "I'm sure there are better things for you to do right now."

"Maybe, but I'm already here, so I might as well stay." He pats your head. 

Just then, there's a knock at the door, and this time, you're certain it's the pizza you ordered half an hour ago. "I'll get it," Eunseok says before you get the chance to, and you save your breath because you know he's going to do what he wants no matter what you say. You watch as he strides to the door, his long legs eating up the distance. 

"I have a medium pepperoni and mushroom pizza for-" The delivery guy stops when he looks up to see who he's speaking to. "Song Eunseok?" He babbles, "No way, I'm a huge fan." 

"Are you?" Eunseok laughs, and you roll your eyes when you know he can't see you. "How much do I owe you?"

"Don't worry about it, man." The delivery pushes the pizza box into the palm of Eunseok's hand. "Enjoy it." He runs off, not giving Eunseok the opportunity to say anything else. 

The tall basketball player turns to you with an annoying grin budded on his lips. "We got free pizza." He holds up the box.

"I saw." You murmur nonchalantly, grabbing the box from his hands and striding towards your couch. You can practically feel Eunseok's breath on the back of your neck from how close he treads behind you. 

"Pepperoni and mushroom?" He questions, plopping down on the sofa right next to you. 

"I didn't expect any guests." You utter, with your mouth full. 

As the night continues, you end up with your head in Eunseok's lap, gazing up at him while he mindlessly dances his fingers around your skin. 

"How long have you been playing basketball?" You murmur, intertwining your hand with his. 

"Since middle school," he answers, "My dad wanted me to get out of the house more often, so he put me in basketball camp. From there, I just fell in love with it."

"Did you ever think you'd love it for so long?" You ask another question just to hear him talk.

"No, but I never imagined I'd fall out of love with it." 

"Do you ever get tired of playing? Or just lose motivation sometimes?" 

Eunseok nods, "I do sometimes, but then I feel guilty." He glances down at you, "It's become a part of me, and rejecting basketball feels like I'm rejecting myself."

"Wow?" You gasp in awe. "This is serious for you." 

"Yeah." He breathes, "very." You sit up halfway as he readjusts himself in the chair, and he gently pulls you back down once he feels comfortable again, clamping his hand around yours. "So what about you?" He utters.

"What about me?" 

"Tell me about yourself."

"There's nothing to tell." You murmur bashfully, "I'm just a nerd who loves the idea of outer space."

"Why?" Eunseok asks, watching you fondly as you think about how you're going to answer. 

"I like the idea of how big and vast it is, how much life it holds." You sigh, "It reminds me of how small I am. That's a comforting thought for me because I know that nothing really matters." You look back up towards him and catch the way he's looking down at you. Suddenly, you become hyper-aware of the position you're in. Ripping away from his lap, you rush to the opposite side of the couch and clear your throat. 

"But that's why I love Astronomy." You laugh nervously. "Are you thirsty by chance?" You ask, jumping up and running towards your kitchen. 

"Not really." Eunseok stands up on his feet to follow you. He leans against the wall while you slide back on your counter, sipping your soda and staring into thin air so you don't have to look at him. He's the first to break the thick layer of awkward silence you've single-handedly created in the room. "My brother's birthday is coming up in two weeks. He really wants you there." He treads closer to you.

"Does he really?" 

"My family likes you." He murmurs, "Everyone likes you." 

"Because they think I'm your girlfriend." You retort, and he slides closer.

"Because you're you." The compliment causes your breath to hitch, "There's no one like you." He adds, in a hushed tone. 

Looking down at the floor to avoid looking in his direction, You respond, "You're being weird again.". 

Eunseok couldn't explain his feelings about you because he knew you wouldn't listen. He thought if he showed you, you'd finally understand. He lifts your chin and dips his head down to press a chaste kiss against your lips. When you don't push him away like he half thought you would, he does again to test the waters. Yet you still don't do anything, so he tries it one more time; this time, it's more than just a simple peck. 

It starts off small and gradually grows deeper and feverish. You slide your arms around his neck and pull him down towards you. His lips are gentle against yours, just as you imagined they would. It feels so right to have his body pressed against yours, his large hands tugging at your waist, but it feels too good. It feels so good that you begin to feel guilty.

It only takes a slight push on his chest for him to break the kiss and look down on you through hooded eyelids.

“We shouldn’t do this. “ You breathe heavily. You’re so sure this isn’t what he wants. He’s just lost in the heat of the moment. You both are. But the way he looks at you makes you doubt yourself. You rest your head against his chest, sighing, “We can’t do this.” 

In the end, you were only trying to save your feelings.

“We don’t have to.” He sounds patting your back gently, and you hate it. You hate that he makes it so hard for you to hate him. He’s so tender and patient with you; you hate that you love it. 

“I think you need to go home before we end up doing something we both regret.” You mumble against his chest. 

“Why would I regret it?” he asks. You can feel the vibrations from his voice through his skin.

You lift your head to look at him, stuck on how to answer. “We-“ you open your mouth to speak, but you’re instantly cut off with a kiss.

“I’m exactly where I want to be.” He kisses you again.

Sooner than later, he has you caged in his arms, your legs wrapped around his waist while he carries you with ease. Maybe that was the perks of "dating" a basketball player. 

Slowly, he lays you on your bed. His lips only leave yours to pepper more kisses around your collarbone, trailing all the way down to below your waistline.

Your eyes shoot to the ceiling above you. You're far too shy to watch the other things he does to your body. He's gradually undressing you piece by piece until you are completely naked in front of him. While he remained fully clothed, this made you feel vulnerable and completely open to him. Not many other men could say they've seen you like this, but Eunseok could see all of you. The thought caused your entire body to shudder. Fortunately, he was there to ground you, his larger hands roaming the sheets to find yours as he made your skin heat up.

"Oh goodness, Eunseok." You mutter, biting on your lip.

"How was the dog sitting?" Ningning asks Sohee. You sense a bit of annoyance in her question, but you don't speak about it. 

"I don't wanna talk about it." Sohee deadpans.

Ningning shrugs, "Okay." and turns to you. "How was your weekend?" 

Instantly, you shake your head and look down at your food. "I don't wanna talk about it." Except Ningning doesn't let up on you as quickly as she did Sohee. 

"What happened?" She prods, and thankfully, Sohee steps in. 

"I'll tell you what happened!" He huffs. "Lea asks me to dog sit with her. I do, and then she gets mad at me for paying too much attention to the dog. It's called dog sit, not Lea sit." 

"Have you thought about just breaking up?" Ningning suggests. 

"Yeah, you guys seem to argue a lot." You join in, "which is understandable because you're an idiot, but not even Eunseok and I argue as much as you do. And I ha-"

You trail off when both of your friends stop to look at you. "Hate being away from him. It breaks my soul." You save yourself. 

"Exactly." Sohee pipes up, "The thought of breaking up with her kills me. I love her too much; she's crazy, but she's the only one for me. I'm certain."

"You've been dating for two weeks." Ningning grimaces, and you scoff at the conversation. 

"When you know. You know."

"Right…" The girl nods, shifting her attention towards you. "So, how about you?"

"Me?" You ask for confirmation. "I'm okay. In fact, I couldn't be better. I'm so okay that okay wants to be me."

"Did you and Eunseok get into a fight?" Ningning asks, reading right through your anxious demeanor.

"You didn't break up, did you?" Sohee asks. Almost as if he summoned him, Eunseok slides into the seat next to you. 

"Who's breaking up?" He asks before pressing a soft kiss on your cheek. 

Ningnings eyes remain on you, her eyes squinting as she reads your body language. How you jolt away from him, the awkward smile, the lack of physical touch.  Something's definitely up, and she wants to find out.

"How was your weekend?" She aims her question towards your boyfriend, resting her chin in her palm. 

"My weekend was amazing." He glances back at her. Mentally, you thank him for not making things too obvious, and Ningning curses him for that exact thing. 

"What made it so amazing?" She questions further.

"Um-" "He was able to knock some really important stuff off of his to-do list." You jump in to answer for him. 

Interesting. She thinks. "What was on your to-do list?" She asks.

"Wow, you're asking a lot of questions," He laughs awkwardly, oblivious to the way you're bouncing in anticipation, biting down on your lips until you think you taste blood.

"Yeah, what's with all the questions?" Sohee seconds. 

"I just wanna know the details." Ningning defends, "Unless you have something to hide." 

"We had sex." You blurt shamefully, tucking your head into the crook of Eunseoks neck to shield you from embarrassment. The pressure became too much for you to bear. 

She knew something was up, but she didn't expect to drag that information out of you. "Oh?" she gasps. 

"Me too." Sohee joins, burying his face in his hands. "And we did it in front of the dog." He confesses. You pull your head from Eunseoks shoulder to glare at your best friend. 

"In front of the dog?" You ask and he nods, his bottom lip poked out. 

"I'm not proud of it." 

"You're disgusting." Retorts Ningning, “All of you.” She points to Sohee, "but especially you."

If anyone asked, you'd tell them you were more than confident you could live without caffeine. But realistically, you knew that was a lie. Because you often had days like these where you'd spend all night cramming for a test and wake up a zombie the next day. 

Usually, you'd be responsible enough to make sure you had your credit card on you, but this particular time, you were running on forty minutes of sleep and a dream. 

"Oh, please." You beg the barista, with long copper blonde hair and a weak excuse for a goatee. "I'll do anything. Just this one time, no one has to know." 

The man shrugs carelessly, "There's nothing I can do." 

"Except there is," you whine. "Just this one time." You beg, but your efforts count for nothing as the employee begins to work on other tasks, ignoring you as if you weren't even there. You throw your head back and groan, stomping towards one of the seats and throwing your bag down. 

Not even ten seconds later, you hear someone else enter the cafe, but you don't care enough to lift your head from the palms of your hands. "Hey,' you hear a painfully familiar voice, and you imagine yourself vanishing in thin air.  

"Sorry, I can't talk right now, kinda busy." You mumble into your hands. 

"Doing what?" He chuckles, sliding into the chair in front of you.

"Contemplating suicide." 

"Woah." Sungchan pulls your hands from your face, forcing you to look at him. Close contact usually makes you freeze up, but you're preoccupied at the moment. "Don't talk like that."

"It's a joke." You roll your eyes. "I'm just super exhausted and have a super important test today. I left my wallet at home, and the barista won't give me one free pass, and I haven't had my weekly hang-out with my friends in three weeks." You throw your head down. "I'm gonna lose it, Sungchan, I'm gonna lose it."

"Would it make you feel better if I got you a coffee?" He asks, his hands still hooked around your wrists. 

You lift your chin to face him, eyes lighting up when you ask, "You'd do that? really?"

"It's just a coffee, it's nothing serious." His lips quirk into a bashful smile.

"It's very serious," You murmur, "My future career is on the line."

"Okay, just wait here. I'll be right back." He slips away for just a few minutes before he finds himself back where he started, right in front of you, this time with an iced coffee and a croissant.

"I figured you'd feel better if you had breakfast as well." 

"You're amazing, Sungchan. I owe you one."

"Consider it a favor. You're my teammate's girlfriend. It'd be wrong for me to just leave you here." He murmurs. You both stare at each other for a while. Each wanting to say something but not knowing how to say it or where to start.

Sungchan seems to find the words faster than you do. "I don't want things to be awkward between us." 

"We wouldn't be so awkward if you didn't scare me so much." You scold him, and he laughs. 

"I don't mean to. You just-" He pauses mid sentence.

"I what?" 

"You have to get to class Y/n." Sungchan stands up and places his palm on the center of your head. "You're going to be late." 

"What?" You ask, but he doesn't say anything else before he leaves the cafe, and you're left to try and figure out what just happened.

"Wow, this is a lot of children." You gasp at all six- and seven-year-olds running around Eunseok's family home. 

"It is a children's party." Eunseok remarks.

“Y/n.” Eunseoks little brother runs up to you, wrapping his arms around you when you squat down to meet him at eye level. "You're here."

"Of course." You smile to match his, unaware of the hurdle of children surrounding you until the young boy turns away from you. 

"This is my brother's girlfriend. Look how pretty she is." The boy gloats, and the others take turns showering you with compliments. 

"You have really cool hair." One kid shouts.

"You look like a rockstar." Says another.

"I wanna be like you when I grow up." The last kid speaks, and by now, your cheeks are red. Overwhelmed with compliments, you look up at Eunseok, expecting him to help you. 

He doesn't. He laughs with his arms crossed, amused to see how much the children look up to you. 

They remained huddled around you for a bit longer, each asking you questions and sharing pieces of information about themselves. However, once Mrs. Song called out that the piñata was ready, the kids disappeared from in front of you. 

Eunseok reaches out to help you, and you accept it. Tightening your lips into a line when you're grounded in front of him. 

"I told you everyone likes you." He smiles, interlocking his hands with yours. 

"I should've believed you." You say.

You didn't expect so much to change when you took Eunseok up on his offer. You didn't expect that the gym would be like your second home or that you'd care about basketball all of a sudden. You didn't expect to be standing here at a child's birthday party, being randomly showered with compliments ever so often. Or having one child after another tug on your wrist to join them in yet another activity. 

By the end of the party, you're exhausted, your feet hurt, and your cheeks are numb from smiling too much. Yet your lips remain turned up into a slight permanent smile.

"Looks like you had fun." Eunseok comments once you've reached your apartment door. You nod, and your smile grows.

"I did." You giggle. "Your parents really know how to throw a party."

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself." He says, swinging one of your arms back and forth. While you use the other to unlock your door.

"I'll see you tomorrow." You hum when the door is open, standing on your tippy toes to press a kiss to his cheek. "Goodnight Eunseok."

He tightens his hold on your hand before you can get too far from him, pulling you right back. You frown before you speak. 

"My feet hurt, I need to get to bed." You complain, looking down to your shoes. 

"I have a game coming up saturday." He says, fidgety. "I think I'll play better if I had my girlfriend there." 

You roll your eyes, a faint smirk tugging at your lips. You do a weak job of trying to contain the butterflies in your stomach. "I'm not your girlfriend." You laugh, but he's looking at you like he's still waiting for an answer. "If I'm not busy that day, I might stop by." 

You watch his smile grow, and his hand wraps tighter around yours. "Can I go to bed now?" 

"Yeah, of course." He leans down to press his lips against yours. "I'll see you on Saturday then."

"I said I'll think about it, Eunseok." You respond, but you know he isn't listening.

Saturday rolls around, and you find yourself back in the gym. Just as always, it's pretty filled, and you have to push through crowds of people to get to your seat. Ningning trails not too far behind you, both of her hands occupied with the hotdogs she couldn't get the last time. "These are pretty good seats." She says once she takes her seat beside you, both of you leave just enough space for Sohee. 

"Do you see him?" You ask, leaning against Ningning as you scan the area for Eunseok. She shakes her head, mumbling something with her mouth full, but you don't spend too much time trying to figure out what she's saying as your eyes land on the very boy you've been searching for. His back is turned towards you, but you know it's him because of the number thirty-nine that's displayed along the back of his jersey. You can't help the giddiness you feel when you see him. The best you can do is bite your lip, but it doesn't do much to contain your emotions. 

You watch him for a bit longer. Your eyes are trained on him as if he is the only person in the room, And when he turns around to face you, your heart skips a beat, "Oh, there he goes," Ningning nudges you with her elbow. Yet you're too focused on the basketball player in front of you to even register what she's saying. 

'Why didn't you tell me you were here?" Eunseok asks, already pressing a kiss on your lips,

"You seemed busy." You reply, "I didn't wanna interrupt you."

You look away when his coach yells for him, but Eunseoks eyes remain on you. "You're not gonna leave, right?" He asks, and you shake your head. 

"Wish me luck," Eunseok says last as he pulls you into another kiss. 

"Good luck." You hum loud enough for him to hear. You catch his smile before he backs away from you, swiftly making his way towards the floor before the game starts. You're left with a big grin on your face, oblivious to the way your friends watch you.

"What did I just watch?" Sohee asks, breaking you out of your trance.

"When did you get here?" You change the subject unintentionally.

"He got here a while ago." Ningning answers, "You were just too occupied to notice." 

You turn away in embarrassment, searching for anything to distract you. That's when your eyes land on another couple, "Is Lea coming?" You ask

"No, she said since she's not into Eunseok anymore, sports don't really entertain her." Sohee shrugs.

You and Ningning gasp, "Oh?" at the same time. 

"But it's been a while since the three of us hung out, so that's why I'm here." He continues, "Do you think she misses me?"

"Doesn't matter." Ningning shakes her head, "If she missed you that much, she'd be here with you." And just as she wraps up her sentence, Lea plops down right on Sohee's lap. 

"Great." Your friend sucks her teeth, glaring at you.

You watch Sohee's smile grow and see as they break off into their own conversation. Both of them forget that you and Ningning were even there. That's how it stays throughout the entire evening; the two of them remain wrapped up in eachother while you watch Eunseok on the floor.

Your eyes are stuck on his every move. It's almost magnetic. Every so often, his head would shoot up in your direction, and he'd lock eyes with you. 

When the game ends, you're the first person he looks for. A wide grin is evident on his face as he effortlessly lifts you in his arms and collapses his lips onto yours. For a second, it feels like it's just you and him, but you're harshly reminded of the crowd surrounding you when you hear his dad's voice. You scream and slide off of Eunseok, shielding your face in his chest. They proceed to have a short conversation, but you're too busy burying yourself in your own embarrassment to hear anything they're saying. 

You know the conversation is over when Mr Song squeezes your shoulder and wishes you a farewell. "He's gone," Eunseok whispers against your ear, but you only shake your head. 

"I want to die." You mutter against him, to which he simply laughs and wraps you into a bear hug. 

Eunseok quickly changes his clothes after telling your friends that he wants to be the one to take you home. Neither of them found an issue with it since Sohee wanted to stay with Lea, and Ningning had her Netflix series to catch up on. 

It's almost pitch dark. The wind blows through your hair as you walk towards your apartment, presumably. If it weren't for the fact that Eunseok was holding your hand, you would've already wrapped your arms around yourself to preserve your warmth. 

Without asking, Eunseok slips his hand from yours to wrap his jacket around. You let out a sigh of relief at the newfound warmth, but that's when you realize this isn't the way to your apartment.

"Where are we going?" You ask, halting as you look around.

"There's a party-"Eunseok begins to explain.

"I don't want to go to a party. I wanna go home." You whine. He pulls you closer when you attempt to pull away from him.

"I'll pay you." He bribes you, but you shake your head. 

"That's not gonna work this time." You try once again to back away, and just as before, he pulls you right back. Only this time, he wraps his arms around you.

"Then do it for me. I just made it through the finals, and as my girlfriend, I think you should reward me."

"Pretend, girlfriend." You correct him, "I don't owe you anything."

"Actually, you do; it's your duty to appear as my real girlfriend." His growing smile sends shivers down your spine, "What will people think if I show up alone?"

"Whatever they want." You shrug, "It's not my reputation at stake." 

"You're so stubborn." He laughs, pulling you along with him. 

The "party" could be classified as a hangout. Most of Eunseoks' teammates are there, including Seunghan, Shotaro, Anton, and a few other people you've seen around campus. Despite the low crowd, you still cling to Eunseok. He doesn't seem to mind it as he wraps his arm around your shoulder, holding you closer than you already were. 

The music was just a few notches below what you'd consider too loud, and surprisingly, it didn't smell like sweat and alcohol. On the contrary, the scent of the room was quite pleasant. As Eunseok converses with some of his friends, your eyes wander around the space. You notice the seventies-inspired decor, the record player tucked in the corner, and a life-sized sculpture of the school mascot standing beside it. But It's the pool table that catches your eye. 

You turn away from Eunseok as you watch the crowd surrounding the table. Each of them places a twenty dollar bill on the stool beside the table before they start the game, and you can't help but watch, knowing that you'd win if you were given the opportunity.

The players are in their element, the cue sticks gliding like silk in their hands as they aim for the vibrant balls on the table. The sharp crack of the cue ball against the others reverberates through the room as precise shots are made, and the players exchange confident smiles and spirited banter. 

The anticipation in the air is palpable as the game reaches a crucial point. The onlookers lean in their expressions, reflecting the tension of the game. As you watch, you feel the excitement building, imagining yourself stepping up to the table, calculating angles, and planning your shots with precision. 

As the game draws to a close, the victorious player triumphantly pockets the final ball, claiming the prize money. The room erupts to cheers and applause. "Do you wanna play?" Eunseoks voice breaks you out of your trance. You blink up at him and shake your head, but he can see right through you.

Swiftly he pulls you along to the table, and sits a twenty dollar bill on the stool. "You'll do great" he says followed by a kiss to your temple. Eunseok slides his hand out of yours, and backs away from you.

You gingerly picked up the cue stick, feeling the smooth wooden surface in your hand, and carefully applied chalk to its tip. Your eyes surveyed the arrangement of colorful balls, already visualizing each shot in your mind. With a sense of determination, you leaned over the table, your gaze fixed on the target. The world around you seemed to slow down as you prepared to take your shot, your mind calculating the angles and forces needed for a successful strike.

Taking a deep breath, you executed your shot with precision and finesse. The cue ball glided across the felt, expertly striking the others in a harmonious dance as the balls ricocheted off one another, following the calculated path you had envisioned. 

The game progressed with a steady rhythm, the players engaging in friendly banter and playful teasing as they vied for dominance. Every successful shot garnered a mix of applause and good natured ribbing, enhancing the camaraderie and a sense of shared enjoyment. The room was filled with warmth of shared fun and spirit of healthy competition. 

You step up when it becomes your turn again, lifting your stick and sliding down the table just centimeters before the cue ball. You take your shot. The satisfying thud as it made contact with the colored balls echoed through your ears. Your hands flew up when the last ball found its pocket. 

The first person you look for is Eunseok. You throw your arms around him, and he wraps his around your waist, hoisting you into the air. When you slide off of him, he holds your hand open to place the prize money in the center of your palm. "It's all yours." He murmurs. 

You scoff playfully, trying your best to suppress a smile. "You're so cute." 

"We're still not friends." You blurt. 

Eunseok grins, "I thought that was obvious," he says. "I mean, friends don't do what we did." 

He's amused with how your cheeks flush red and how speechless you've become. You don't even bother trying to come up with some snarky remark. Instead, you mutter, "Shut up." and Eunseok laughs. 

The sound of basketballs bouncing against the waxed floor meets your ears the second you walk into the gym. You smile softly when you catch sight of Eunseok. You throw your bag off to the side and take a seat, watching as he bounces the ball around before he takes his shot. That pattern continues a few more times before you make a noise to let him know you're there. 

Eunseok turns around immediately, an involuntary smile approaching his face. He runs over to you with the basketball in his hand. He's sweaty, and his hair is stuck to his forehead, but none of it bothers you. You still grin when he approaches you.

"Why did you call me here?" you ask teasingly.

He doesn't answer your question at first; he just kisses you, and you kiss him back. "If I make this, you have to let me be your boyfriend." He says, and you can't help but smile.

You don't get to say anything before he's running away from you and towards the court. He bounces the ball longer than he should, and just when he goes to shoot, he misses. You giggle to yourself but bite your lip when he turns to look at you. You get up, walk towards him, and wrap your arms around his abdomen, "You don't need to shoot a basketball to ask me to be your girlfriend, weirdo."

"I thought it'd be less embarrassing to miss than it would be for you to reject me." He says, defeated.

"Who said I would reject you?" 

You watch his eyes light up right before he leans down to kiss you, wrapping his arms around your waist and sweeping you off your feet. 

EYES ON ME | anton lee

IN WHICH you need to do your assignments, but anton wants your eyes solely on him. A 300 milestone’s special

FEATURING: Riize’s Chanyoung Lee and you (non-idol au)

WARNING: none

NOTE: thank you so much for 300 follows! It’s such a big milestone for me and I can’t explain how happy and thankful I am for all of you. I hope to continue giving you works and I hope you enjoy! Love you guysss 💗💗

MORE WORKS: navigation | riize!masterlist

THE CLOCK HITS 7pm as the sounds of your calculator echoed, filling the silence of your apartment. Papers were strewn all around your desk, one unfinished equation to the next.

In the midst of your concentration, the clicking of your door and the 6-foot-something man was left unheard and ignored. That was, until you felt a hand tug the hem of your shorts.

You stiffen for a second, before loosening up as familiarity washes over your body. Warm, big hands that touched you with the gentleness of a chick; it was your Anton.

You hummed in acknowledgement, but still focused on finishing your equation. Gosh, do you have a love-hate relationship with the subject.

He didn’t answer, only tugged your shorts again before putting his heavy head on your lap.

You didn’t think too much of it until he tugged the hem of your shirt this time. Looking down, you see a pouty man nestled under the warmth of your stomach.

What was it this time? you thought to yourself as you could just feel his sulky mood radiating from miles away.

“Anton..?” You whispered in confusion, your hand finding its way home in his hair, messing it up.

He stared up at you, his mouth pursed in a line that screamed at you ‘I’m not happy!!😾’, yet his eyes softened and you could tell that he was just pretending to get your attention.

You sighed before putting down your pen and putting both hands on his face.

“What does my big baby want, hm?” you teased with a playful grin before pinching his cheek, eliciting an ow! from him.

He took your hands in his before spilling the beans, “You promised me you won’t miss dinner today.”

“It’s not past dinner yet, it’s 6–”

“It’s 7.”

“Oh. Well I can still eat dinner now, 7 isn’t too late yet—“

“You also promised me you’d give me attention today.”

”Ah…” you answer awkwardly as you just remembered, “Sorry about that, baby, but the workload’s a lot lately.”

Anton sat up before looking at you deadass AND even more sulky than before, “You’re literally already early, I know this is supposed to be due in a week.”

Yeah, you weren’t winning this one. You sighed once more as your mind gears up in making a plan to redeem yourself.

Putting your hands on both his cheeks, you put on your best doe eyes.

“I’m sorry baby,” you said before peppering his face with kisses, “forgive me..?”

In an instant, all the frustrations in your Anton’s face immediately ran away. He put his (gigantic) hands on your waist before kissing you on the cheek.

“Okay,” He mumbles.

He was about to kiss you some more but you interruped him.

“Right, I should eat dinner now,” You spoke, standing up. You were about to walk to the kitchen, but his hands pulled you back. Surprised, you landed back with an oomf.

“What was that for—“

“Later,” he says as he puts his hands around your waist, “I want your eyes on me right now, we can eat later.”

Knowing that you aren’t getting out of this, you just gave in to your fate.

TAGLIST. @ja4hyvn @flwoie @sulkygyu @xiaoderrrr @ineedaherosavemeenow @lonewolfjinji @teddywonss @taerae-verse

NETWORKS. @k-labels

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