Blue Sticky Note (part 2)

blue sticky note (part 2)

OT8 x reader!! stray kids x reader!! word count: 5.9k

stray kids fic wherein, you know the answer of the mystery of the blue sticky note in your binder, but then keep denying it.

AN: i literally love this guys. please tell me your thoughts also im crying.

(part 1 here!!)

Does Bang Chan like you?

Why did he create a song for you?

Your mind raced as you held the blue sticky note, staring at the familiar handwriting that had been haunting your thoughts for days. You replayed the moment when you confronted him, hoping for a straightforward answer.

“Are you the one who put this in my binder?” you had carefully asked, showing him the sticky note that had left you sleepless for nights.

Bang Chan didn’t answer right away. His eyes softened as he looked at you, and for a brief moment, you thought you saw something deeper in his gaze. But instead of responding to your question, he gave you a gentle smile, one that made your heart skip a beat.

“Did you know we all made this song?” he said, his voice calm, almost as if he was leading you from the truth you were seeking. “We all helped to do this.”

His words left you more confused than before. What did that even mean? Was it some kind of cryptic message?

“You know what,” he suddenly said, his tone shifting to something more casual, “you should really attend Changbin’s party this weekend. I’ll be the one to pick you up.”

And just like that, he left the studio without waiting for your reply, leaving you standing there with a thousand questions swirling in your mind. The mystery you thought you were close to solving only seemed to deepen, the answers slipping further from your grasp.

You tried to focus on your upcoming presentation in class, but Bang Chan's words and that blue sticky note kept intruding on your thoughts. Lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, you wondered why this was all becoming so hard to figure out.

Suddenly, a knock on your door snapped you out of your thoughts. You opened it to find Felix standing there, a soft smile on his face as he greeted you.

“Hi,” he said, holding his favorite yellow plushie—a chicken. “I’m back again.”

You let him in, and without a word, he walked in and instead of heading to the sofa like usual, he went straight to your bedroom and flopped down on your bed..

You followed him, sitting at the edge of the bed as you pulled the blanket over him. You felt a pang of sympathy for your friend. He always seemed so worn out whenever you saw him in the mornings at school, his eyes heavy with exhaustion. You knew it must be because of his noisy neighbor.

“I think my neighbor is angry with me,” Felix mumbled, his face half-buried in the pillow.

“Why?” you asked, your voice gentle.

“He only makes noise whenever I’m about to sleep.”

“Maybe we should complain to the landlord,” you suggested, but you knew Felix. He was too kind-hearted to make a fuss about it. He’d rather suffer in silence than cause trouble for someone else.

"I’ve decided I should move out here," he said quietly.

"Really? Finally," you replied, a bit of relief in your voice. You’d wanted someone to share your apartment with for so long. Living alone had become so lonely.

"But I’ll be moving next door," he added.

Oh. That was fine too.

You couldn’t help but smile as you lay down beside him, both of you staring up at the ceiling. The silence was comfortable, but your thoughts were still tangled up in the mystery of the blue note.

“I think I should talk to someone about this,” you finally said, breaking the silence. The questions were too much for you to keep inside anymore.

“Talk about what?” Felix asked, his voice calm but curious.

“The blue note…” you began, turning your head to look at him. “Do you know who owns it?”

Felix took a deep breath, clearly expecting this conversation. He didn’t answer right away, instead asking, “May I ask you a question? Who do you think owns it?”

“I don’t want to assume anything,” you admitted, “You guys are giving me a hard time. I don’t want to jump to conclusions.”

Felix’s gaze softened as he looked at you, his expression unreadable. “What would you do if you found out who owned it? Would it change things between you and us?”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “I see all of you as my brothers. But if it really was one of you… then…” You trailed off, not knowing how to finish the thought.

“What if it was all of us?” Felix’s voice was quiet, almost hesitant.

“What—” Before you could react, Felix leaned in and pecked your lips, the suddenness of it leaving you frozen.

“Do you know how hard it is?” he whispered, his eyes locked on yours. “Loving you means risking our whole friendship. But as long as I could hold it in, I thought I should. But right now, I can’t.”

His confession hung in the air between you, heavy and filled with emotion. He searched your eyes for a reaction, his heart clearly on the line.

“Please,” he continued, his voice breaking slightly, “when tomorrow comes, forget what I did. And I hope… you’ll forgive me.”

And then, before you could process everything, he claimed your lips again, this time with more urgency, as if trying to convey everything he couldn’t put into words.

The next morning, you walked to class feeling like you were floating. Felix was already gone when you woke up, leaving behind only a note saying he had to go.

The memory of last night's kiss made your cheeks flush as you touched your lips, but you quickly shook the thought away.

Why does this feel so wrong?

You've been friends with these guys since middle school, and now, everything felt like it was spiraling out of control.

You slumped into your seat next to Yuji, dropping your head onto your table.

“Girl, you look stressed,” she said, combing her fingers through your hair.

“I know. I think I should just die.”

“No, not yet! We still have that concert to go to, remember? Physics might make you want to drop dead, but focus on the bright side—concert!” Yuji playfully shook your shoulders.

“What concert? Why didn’t you invite me?” Seungmin’s voice interrupted as he approached, handing out papers.

"Oh! it's seungmin." Yuji immediately straightened up, trying to play it cool. “I have two tickets. One for me, and one for her.” She pointed at you with an exaggerated modesty. “But she can always buy new her own, so I’ll give you hers.” She smiled sweetly at Seungmin like a puppy.

Seungmin didn’t even look up as he continued distributing papers. “Never mind. I’ve got plans with her, anyway.”

You blinked, confused. Plans? He hadn’t mentioned anything to you.

“What plans?” you asked, tilting your head in curiosity.

“It’s a surprise.” He finally looked up, flashing a small, knowing smile before moving on to the next student.

Yuji’s eyes widened in surprise. “Wait, is there something going on between you two?” she asked, crossing her arms and pouting. “You betrayed me?! I thought you were on Team Seungmin and Yuji!”

You barely registered her words, your mind suddenly flashing back to what Felix said last night.

“What if it was all of us?”

Was there a chance that Seungmin… liked you? Or were they all just playing with your feelings?

The stress of it all made you tug at your hair in frustration. But then you remembered Felix’s kiss, making you feel even more confused.

After class, you were about to leave when Seungmin called out to you.

“Hey,” he said, jogging over. “Let me treat you to the cafeteria.”

Normally, you’d jump at the chance for free food—who wouldn’t? This was just how you and Seungmin usually were. But after everything that happened, you found yourself questioning his intentions.

Still, you plastered on a smile and nodded. “Sure.”

As you both sat down, Seungmin played with his spoon, eyeing his food. “Do you think short hair would suit me?” He ran a hand through his hair, “I’m thinking about getting a haircut.”

You looked at him, trying to picture it. “Honestly? I think everything suits you.”

“Oh really?” He laughed, raising an eyebrow. “Well, if it turns out ugly, I’m blaming you.”

“It won’t,” you assured him. “Promise. Trust me, just imagining it, I think it’ll look great on you. And why would you blame me? I’m not the one asking you to cut it; I already think it’s perfect.”

You forced yourself not to think about what Felix said, focusing on keeping the conversation light and normal, just like always.

“Hey, why are you two eating alone without me?” Changbin suddenly appeared, sliding his tray onto the table like some kind of cool bad boy—though you knew he was a softie at heart.

“Because according to Seungmin, you eat too much,” you teased, even though Seungmin hadn’t actually said that. Changbin shot Seungmin a playful glare, his expression saying, ‘How dare you?’

“Why? It’s true,” Seungmin teased back with a casual shrug.

“Well, it is,” Changbin admitted with a grin. “But do you really think you can get away without buying me food? I put it on your tab at the cashier.”

You laughed, enjoying their playful banter. This is what you wanted to keep, this easy friendship with them. Nothing more, nothing less.

“Hey, don’t laugh! You owe me, too!” Changbin suddenly turned his attention to you.

“What? I don’t remember owing you anything. If anything, you owe me,” you shot back, munching on your food.

“Well, you’re right about that.” He chuckled, then leaned in closer, his tone turning serious. “But you owe me a promise. You have to come to my party. And you too.” referring to Seungmin.

“Tell me why I should attend instead of going to my weekly seminar,” Seungmin challenged, always enjoying a good tease.

“There’ll be lots of food.”

“Valid, but not enough,” Seungmin replied, feigning disinterest.

“I’ll be there,” Changbin said. Seungmin just rolled his eyes before standing up.

“I’m done eating,” he said, grabbing his tray. Then he looked at you, “Finish your food and eat well. I’ll go ahead.”

“What happened to you?” Hyunjin asked, concern etched on his face as he glanced over at you.

You were lying on one of the beds in the school clinic, feeling utterly drained. “I think I’m coming down with a fever. Can you give me some medicine?”

Hyunjin’s eyes narrowed slightly, a familiar sigh escaping his lips. “Again? Don’t tell me you’re pulling that trick to avoid PE.”

It was Wednesday, and Hyunjin was on clinic duty again. It seemed like every time he was here, you somehow managed to find your way to the clinic as well.

“I just really dislike playing volleyball,” you complained, curling up under the blanket.

“You know it’s part of the curriculum,” Hyunjin said firmly, reaching out to help you sit up. “Now, get up and get moving.”

But you stayed put. “I’m serious this time. My head is pounding.” You pressed your fingers against your temples, trying to relieve the discomfort.

Hyunjin’s expression softened, though he still looked slightly exasperated. “Alright, alright. Just stay here.” He walked over to the medicine cabinet, opening it and rummaging through the various bottles.

You watched him, admiring how he looked in his white lab coat. He seemed so professional and competent, and it made you smile despite your discomfort.

After a moment, Hyunjin returned with a small bottle in hand. “Here, take this.”

You examined the label. “Gummy vitamins? Really?”

Hyunjin grinned. “Yep, gummy medicine. It’s actually quite effective.”

“But… isn’t this for kids?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re never too old for gummy vitamins,” Hyunjin said with a teasing smirk. He leaned closer and playfully tapped your forehead. “And besides, you’re basically a kid.”

“Ouch!” you said, rubbing your forehead as you accepted the bottle. You popped a gummy into your mouth, making a face as you chewed. The taste was oddly medicinal, and you struggled to hide your reaction.

Hyunjin chuckled, his laughter bright and genuine. “You look like you’re eating something terrible.”

“It’s not as good as the regular gummies,” you said, grimacing slightly. “But I guess it’ll do.”

Hyunjin shook his head, his smile softening. “You really need someone to take care of you. I swear, you can’t even handle a gummy without making a face.”

“I can take care of myself just fine,” you insisted, stretching your arms out as if to demonstrate your health. “Look, I’m perfectly okay.”

“Yeah, right,” Hyunjin said, sitting down on the chair next to you. “But even if you can take care of yourself, you don’t need to do it alone. I’m here for you, and I’ll always be here to look out for you.”

His words were meant to be comforting, and they were—though they took on a new weight as you recalled what Bang Chan and Felix had said. It suddenly seemed like there might be a deeper layer to Hyunjin’s concern.

You pushed those thoughts aside, forcing a smile. “I’m really glad to have you guys around. It means a lot.”

Hyunjin’s eyes softened as he returned your smile. “I’m glad to hear that. Now, try to get some rest. You need it.”

“Hey, Han,” you called out as you entered the library, spotting your friend among the sea of students hunched over their books. Probably finished of his schedule in the counter as a librarian assistant.

“Oh, hi!” Han looked up from his desk, his glasses perched on the edge of his nose. His eyes were bright with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. You often wondered how he managed to juggle work, study, and his other responsibilities so effortlessly.

“I finally finished that novel you recommended,” you said, making your way over to his table. “..And it was so boring.”

Han’s eyes widened in mock horror, his hands flying to his chest. “What? Don't do that to my most favorite book!"

You couldn’t help but laugh at his dramatic reaction. “Just kidding. It was actually really good.” You gave him a thumbs-up, your voice low but full of mirth, mindful of the quiet atmosphere in the library.

Han let out a relieved sigh and shook his head with a smile. “You almost had me there. What did you think of the ending?”

You shrugged, a hint of frustration in your tone. “I’m still confused. How can the main character like her but never pursue her? It just doesn’t make sense to me.”

Han’s face took on a look of mild exasperation as he leaned back in his chair. “Did you read it with your whole heart, or were you skimming through it?”

“Of course I read it!” you protested, feeling a bit defensive. “I just didn’t get it.”

Han’s expression softened into a more thoughtful one. “Well, sometimes love isn’t as straightforward as we want it to be. The character had reasons for not pursuing her, even though he wanted to.”

“What reasons?” you asked, genuinely intrigued. You leaned forward, eager for an explanation.

Han sighed, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice, can't believe he has to explain it to you. “It’s not always easy to explain. Sometimes, there are external factors, personal struggles, or circumstances beyond our control that affect our decisions.”

“Oh, I see,” you said slowly, trying to digest his explanation. “I still think the ending was a bit of a letdown, though.”

"Me too." Han chuckled, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, it’s definitely not the happiest of endings. But that’s what makes it memorable, I guess.”

“So, why is it your favorite if it’s so depressing?” you asked, genuinely curious.

Han hesitated, a thoughtful look on his face as he stared into the distance. “Because…”

He didn’t finish his sentence, leaving you hanging. You could guess what he might mean, understanding more than you let on. Sometimes it was easier to pretend you didn’t get it than to face the deeper implications of his words.

“Why would you need another cat when you already have three?” you asked, following Minho around the animal shelter. The space was filled with the soft meows and playful purrs of the cats, and you tried to keep up with his purposeful stride.

“Having one more won’t make me poor,” Minho replied, his gaze fixed intently on the cats. He seemed completely absorbed in the task of finding the perfect feline companion, his focus unwavering.

You chuckled softly, “Based on your face, you don’t look like someone who’s a father to a bunch of cats.” well he does look like a cat but you'll never tell him that, it might boost his overflowing confidence

“I don’t take opinions from anyone who’s trailing behind me,” Minho said with a smirk, still not turning to look at you.

“Oh, so you brought me here just to hear my complaints?” you sighed dramatically, trailing behind him. The endless walking was starting to wear you out, and you couldn’t help but think about the stack of assignments waiting for you at home.

Suddenly, Minho stopped in front of a white cat who was sitting calmly, watching him with wide, curious eyes. Minho crouched down and began speaking to the cat in a soft, melodic tone that seemed to mimic the cat’s own meows.

“I think I already found it,” Minho said with a satisfied smile, glancing up at you.

Back at the shelter’s counter, Minho was busy with the paperwork, preparing for the adoption. You watched him efficiently handle the forms and place the cat into its carrier. As he completed the final details, he turned to you with a beaming expression.

“Let’s go,” he said cheerfully.

You both headed to his car. Once inside, you buckled up, only for Minho to place the cat carrier on your lap. You opened it gently, letting the cat come out and stretch. Its beautiful white fur was soft and silky under your touch.

“What should we name her?” you asked, stroking the cat’s fur as she nuzzled closer to you.

“I don’t know,” Minho said, adjusting his seatbelt. “Why don’t you name her?”

"why would I be the one to do that?" you protested,

“Then, I’ll just name her after you,” Minho teased, looking at you with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Oh no, don’t do that,” you laughed, shaking your head.

“Right? She seems to like it.” Minho chuckled as the cat responded positively to being called by your name. “She’s our daughter now.”

You felt a flutter of surprise at his words, but you tried to keep your emotions in check.

“Well, now you’re officially the baby of our friend group,” you said, hugging the cat gently. The little creature purred contentedly in your arms, and you couldn’t help but smile. “Welcome to the family.”

You were about to drift off to sleep when your phone buzzed with a FaceTime call from Jeongin. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you fixed your hair a bit and answered.

"Hey, what's up?" you greeted, trying to sound awake as you adjusted the phone to make sure you looked presentable.

"Hey!" Jeongin's cheerful voice came through, though his face was momentarily obscured as he set the phone down. The background of his room appeared on screen: a collection of action figures and band posters. He returned, holding his guitar. "Got a minute? I have a performance evaluation tomorrow, and I was hoping you could listen to my song and give me some feedback."

"Of course," you replied, leaning back against your headboard. "Why me though? You have plenty of musician friends who could help."

Jeongin laughed softly, adjusting the tune on his guitar. "Well, I think I’ll get the most honest comments from you. Han just tells me I sound like bread—whatever that means—and Changbin mostly just laughs at me."

You smiled at his playful tone. "Alright, hit me with it."

With a nod, Jeongin began to strum his guitar and sing. His voice filled the room with a soothing melody, performing Day6's "Afraid." His rendition was as captivating as always.

When he finished, you sighed in appreciation. "That was beautiful. Seriously, the song fits your voice perfectly."

“Really?” Jeongin’s face brightened with a hopeful smile.

You nodded enthusiastically, giving him a thumbs up. “Absolutely. You did an amazing job.”

Jeongin chuckled. “The truth is, that wasn’t the song I intended to perform,” he admitted with a playful grin. “but i hope you enjoy that song. It's for you.”

You laughed softly, feeling grateful for the unexpected late-night serenade. “I did. Thanks for sharing it with me.”

You enter Bang Chan’s studio, balancing a coffee cup in one hand. The studio is buzzing with activity, but Chan looks up with a smile as you walk in.

“Hey, thanks for the coffee!” Chan says, taking the cup from you with a grateful grin.

“No problem. I figured you’d need it. I’ve heard you’re practically living here these days,” you tease, slipping into the casual banter you’re used to with him.

“Yeah, it’s the price of fame,” Chan chuckles, pretending to adjust an imaginary tie. “I’m basically a coffee addict now.”

“You’ve always been one. Remember that time you tried to make your own coffee blend and nearly set off the fire alarm?”

Chan laughs, shaking his head. “Oh, don’t remind me. I’m still convinced it was a conspiracy by the coffee machine.”

You laugh along, feeling a comfortable ease in the familiar exchange. “So, are you busy today? Or can you spare a few minutes?”

“Earlier, I was buried in work, but now I’m taking a break. What’s up?” Chan asks, settling into his chair.

You nod, setting your coffee down on a nearby table. “I actually came to talk. And, well, I left my glasses here the other day.”

Chan raises an eyebrow playfully. “So it’s a dual-purpose visit: coffee delivery and a retrieval mission?”

“Exactly. I’m multitasking,” you reply with a wink.

“Impressive. I’d expect nothing less from you,” Chan says, leaning back in his chair. “But seriously, what’s on your mind?”

You take a deep breath, shifting your focus from the lightheartedness to a more serious tone. “You know, Chan, I’ve been thinking a lot lately. About everything that’s been happening with us.”

Chan’s expression shifts to a more serious one, sensing the change in tone. “Go on.”

“You know I’m always proud of you and everything you’ve achieved,” you begin, your voice softening. “And I’m grateful for everything you’ve done for me. But lately, I’ve been worried. I don’t want to ruin the friendship we have.”

Chan looks at you with a mixture of concern and curiosity. “What do you mean?”

“I just hoped that everything you’ve said, and everything I thought, is wrong,” you continue. “I don’t want to ruin the friendship I have with you guys.”

Chan’s smile is gentle but sad. “You know, now that everyone likes you?”

You look down, fiddling with your coffee cup. “Well, I hope it’s because you all care for me as a friend and not something more.”

Chan’s eyes are filled with a warmth that both comforts and troubles you. “You’ve always been special to us. And we’re okay if you have to choose one of us. We promise it won’t ruin anything.”

“I don’t want to choose any of you,” you say, your voice trembling slightly. “You’re all special to me.”

It was Changbin's birthday, and you were carefully wrapping the gift you had bought for him—a watch. You knew it wasn’t as extravagant as the ones he usually wore, but it was thoughtful and sincere, a gesture from a poor uni student to a friend who seemed to have everything. Still, you hoped he would appreciate the sentiment.

A knock on your door startled you, pulling you from your thoughts. You were expecting Chan, who had offered to pick you up for the party, so you hurried to answer the door.

But it wasn’t Chan.

“Hey.” Felix stood there, a small, familiar smile on his lips. The sight of him made your heart skip a beat, especially after everything that had happened between you two in the past few days. You had promised yourself to forget about it, to push those feelings away, but seeing him now made it all come rushing back.

“Hello, gorgeous,” Felix greeted you, his voice as smooth as ever. He looked effortlessly handsome in his suit, his charm radiating as always.

“Thank you,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. You appreciated the compliment, but there was an undeniable awkwardness in the air, a tension that neither of you wanted to acknowledge. “You look great too.”

Felix chuckled softly, his eyes briefly meeting yours before he looked away. “I try,” he said, his tone light, but you could hear the underlying edge to it. He cleared his throat, trying to ease the tension. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, grabbing your bag. “Chan’s waiting downstairs.”

Together, you walked down to the first floor, where Chan’s car was parked outside. He rolled down the window as you approached, flashing you both a bright smile. “Finally! I was about to start the party without you guys,” he joked.

“Wouldn’t be much of a party without the birthday gift,” you teased back, holding up the wrapped box.

Chan laughed, unlocking the doors. “Get in, then. Can’t have you showing up without it.”

In the car, the three of you quickly fell into easy conversation, laughing about inside jokes and reminiscing about old memories.

“So, what did you get Changbin?” Felix asked, looking over at you with genuine curiosity.

“It’s just a watch,” you said, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “Nothing fancy.”

Felix shook his head. “It’s the thought that counts. He’ll love it.”

You smiled at his reassurance, but the heavy tension lingered, especially with Felix sitting so close to you. You could feel his presence, his warmth, but there was a wall between you—one neither of you seemed ready to address.

As the conversation continued, you found yourself getting lost in the sound of Chan’s voice, trying to push away the awkwardness. But no matter how much you tried to immerse yourself in the moment, you couldn’t shake the heaviness in the air.

Finally, you arrived at the party. The venue was stunning, elegant in every way. All your friends were already there, looking beautiful and sophisticated in their formal attire. As soon as you entered, they complimented you, making you feel like you belonged in that glamorous setting, even if you often doubted it yourself.

Yuji, who had also been invited, greeted you with a warm hug, her energy infectious. “You look amazing!” she gushed, her eyes wide with excitement as she took in the atmosphere. “This party is insane, right?”

“Yeah, it’s something else,” you agreed, smiling at her enthusiasm. “You look great too, by the way.”

She grinned, doing a little twirl. “Thanks! I can’t wait to see what happens tonight.”

The party began, and you found yourself seated at a table with your friends. Minho, who had always been obvious about his feelings for you, couldn’t take his eyes off you. He looked at you like you were the only person in the room, his gaze intense and unwavering.

“Are you okay?” Jeongin whispered in your ear.

You nodded, trying to act nonchalant. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Jeongin didn’t seem convinced, but he didn’t push it. Instead, he casually wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. “Just let me know if you need anything,”

You smiled gratefully at him, though the tension between the table was palpable, and you could feel the weight of Minho’s gaze even more acutely.

Then there was Han, who had always been more subtle about his feelings. He had never made it obvious, but tonight, when the air began to cool, he quietly draped his coat over your shoulders, his fingers brushing against your skin as he did so.

“Thanks, Han,” you said, looking up at him with a soft smile.

“No problem,” he replied, his voice low and warm. “Can’t have you freezing out here.”

As the evening went on, the program began, and Seungmin took the stage to offer a song. His voice was beautiful, capturing everyone’s attention as he sang. But as he performed, your heart began to race. He kept looking at you, his eyes locking with yours in a way that made you feel both flustered and vulnerable.

Yuji, sitting nearby, was practically glowing with happiness. She leaned in close, whispering, “I think this song is for me!”

You forced a smile, unable to bring yourself to tell her otherwise. “Maybe,” you replied, but your heart knew better.

Hyunjin, ever perceptive, seemed to pick up on the tension in the air. He observed quietly, his sharp eyes darting between you and the others, before taking a long sip of his wine. “Quite the night, huh?” he murmured, more to himself than to anyone in particular.

Then, out of nowhere, Changbin appeared at your table. His face lit up when he saw you, and without hesitation, he pulled you into a tight hug. “I’m so happy you’re here!” he exclaimed, his voice filled with genuine joy.

You laughed softly, hugging him back. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Everyone at the table watched the interaction closely, some with smiles, others with unreadable expressions. But as you stood there, enveloped in Changbin’s embrace, a strange feeling crept into your chest.

And in that moment, you realized that perhaps it was better not to know. Ignorance, as they say, might be bliss.

As the night deepened, the more you wanted to go home. It wasn't that you didn’t enjoy spending time with your friends—quite the opposite—but with the tension growing thicker by the minute, you’d rather be curled up under your blanket, away from the chaos.

You were about to take another sip of your wine when a hand gently stopped you.

"You should stop drinking. You shouldn't get drunk," Han said, his voice soft but firm. He took your glass and, without hesitation, drank it himself.

The loud music continued to play in the background, filling the air with a vibrant energy that contrasted sharply with the underlying tension. Everyone else was getting more and more absorbed in their drinks, except you—Han never let you have another sip.

"Hey, do you want me to sing a song on stage?" a voice asked, leaning close to you to be heard over the music. You turned to find Jeongin grinning at you.

You laughed, feeling a bit lighter in his presence. "Why would you ask for my permission? You should go up there and do what you want. I'm just here to support you."

Jeongin nodded, his smile growing wider. "That's the reason I like you." He stood up from his chair, leaving you momentarily stunned by his words.

As the seat beside you became vacant, Seungmin slipped into it, his presence bringing a different kind of tension. He smiled at you, his eyes soft and warm as he said, "You look beautiful tonight." Then, almost as if he couldn't stop himself, he added with a slightly slurred voice, "You know, I realized I should have kept you to myself."

You went quiet, not sure how to respond. Seungmin had been the reason you met all of his friends, the one who had introduced you into this complicated circle. Now, his words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken feelings.

He rested his hand on the back of your chair, and you let out a nervous laugh, trying to shake off what he said by teasing him instead.

"Hey, Seungmin!" Felix called out, drawing everyone's attention. He smirked as he teased, "That song you sang earlier—it didn't sound like a birthday song at all. Are you sure you weren’t serenading Changbin?"

Seungmin, who was still looking at you, replied without missing a beat, "Well, it wasn't for him."

The tension at the table thickened, and you could feel everyone’s eyes on you. Hyunjin, who had been quiet until now, finally spoke up, his voice cutting through the charged atmosphere. “Changbin, you were the one who put the note, right?”

It was the question you were asking, but then you suddenly don't want to know the answer now.

Changbin, who had been busy entertaining guests earlier and was visibly tired, looked up with a blank expression. “Yeah, that was me,” he admitted, his voice flat.

Minho scoffed, taking a sip of his drink. “That was weak, Changbin,” he remarked, his tone dripping with disdain.

You could sense the unease building, the tension wrapping around you like a vice. Jeongin returned, plopping down in the seat Seungmin had vacated, his carefree demeanor a stark contrast to the heaviness in the air. “The band didn’t want to let me sing,” Jeongin said with a laugh, though even he seemed to feel the strain. “I think Changbin didn’t let me.”

“Well, it’s true. I put it in there,” Changbin confessed again, this time with more emphasis. He looked at you, his gaze heavy, and you realized how exhausted you were by this whole ordeal.

Chan, ever the mature one, noticed the growing tension and tried to intervene, but before he could speak, Felix’s voice rang out. “I kissed her.”

The words hung in the air, heavier than anything that had been said all night. The atmosphere at the table grew unbearably thick, and for a moment, you felt like you couldn’t breathe. Yuji had left earlier, and suddenly, you wished you had gone with her.

You stood up abruptly, your chair scraping against the floor. “I… I need to go to the bathroom,” you muttered, not waiting for a response as you made your way through the crowd, your steps unsteady.

In the quiet of the bathroom, you stared at your reflection in the mirror, your heart pounding in your chest. This couldn’t go on. You had to do something before everything fell apart, before you lost the friendships that meant so much to you.

Determined, you took a deep breath and opened the door, only to be pulled into a dark corner. Before you could react, Minho’s lips were on yours. The kiss was desperate, filled with emotions you didn’t want to face. You pushed him away, tears welling up in your eyes.

“Minho, stop!” you cried, your voice breaking. Minho stepped back, his expression one of shock and regret.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “I didn’t mean to…”

Without another word, you turned and hurried back to the table, grabbing your bag as everyone’s eyes followed your every move. “I’m going home,” you announced, your voice steadier than you felt. Chan offered to drive you, but you shook your head.

“No, it’s fine.” You left before anyone could argue, the night air cold against your skin as you flagged down a taxi.

As the car sped away, tears streamed down your face, each one heavy with the realization you had been avoiding all night. You knew why you were crying, why you wanted to run away. Because deep down..

you already knew who you wanted to choose. But the thought of hurting the others, of breaking the delicate balance between you all, was too much to bear.

-

an: who do you want to choose?

@hpnsfwaddict @stay-tiny-things @velvetmoonlght @tonkatesuramen @spearbinnie0327 @leezanetheofficial @furioussheepluminary 

Want so Bad

genre:; fluff and (..) word count: 3.9K

Minho x reader! Minho x fem. reader!!

wherein: Minho is everything you never wanted in life. But he wants you….so bad.

(an: this is my favorite and i had fun writing while listening to Minho and Jisung's "Want so Bad" again and again and again. so i hope you enjoy reading it!! a comment, like, and reblog is very much appreciated)

"Why are you here?"

You roll your eyes, barely glancing up at the person standing in front of you, your voice dripping with boredom.

"I'm here because I miss you," he replies, winking at you in that infuriating way that always makes you cringe.

You’re in your living room, buried in your textbooks, when this boy suddenly appears in front of you, as if someone summoned him from nowhere.

Minho.

He’s your brother Jisung’s best friend in the entire world—or so they claim. There’s a three-year gap between you and them. They’re in their final year of college, while you’re just a freshman.

You would give him a proper introduction, but the truth is, you can't stand him. You’ve hated him ever since you were 15. He and Jisung have always loved teasing you, making your life miserable whenever they could.

"Jisung! Your favorite family member is here!" you shout, unable to handle Minho’s relentless teasing any longer. Sure, you’re in college now and supposed to be more mature (or so you tell yourself), but after years of dealing with them, you’ve become accustomed to hating their antics.

"I wasn’t even part of the family… but I guess I will be after I marry one of the family members," Minho smirks, his voice dripping with mischief.

"Then go marry my brother," you retort, your expression as nonchalant as ever.

He laughs and casually snatches the book you were studying. You’re so used to his flirty teasing by now that it barely fazes you.

It all started back in high school when Jisung teased you relentlessly, convinced you had a crush on Minho. He found it on your pink diary and read it out loud, complete with the cheesy music that played whenever you opened it. (Well, you did have a crush on Minho back then, but it faded over time.)

Jisung teased you so much that you cried your eyes out, and then he told Minho all about it, sparking years of torment.

"Oh no, my sister might actually ace her exams now that she’s seen her only inspiration," Jisung chimes in as he walks down the stairs, pulling on a t-shirt. You roll your eyes at him too.

"I think I should come over more often. I might just make your sister the top student," Minho adds with a grin.

There goes your peaceful day.

But thankfully, they don’t bother you too much, as they soon move to the kitchen to eat. You try to refocus on your studies, but chemistry is giving you a hard time, so you pop in your earbuds and pull up a tutorial on YouTube. Just as you’re getting into it, a glass of orange juice and a muffin appear on your table (or rather, on top of your notebook).

"Eat, little devil. Food helps you focus more," Jisung says, placing the snacks down.

You mumble a quick thanks, thinking he’ll leave, but instead, he plops down on the couch behind you. You’re sitting on the floor, leaning against the couch, your books and notes spread out on the coffee table in front of you. Then, without a care in the world, Jisung props his legs up on the table, acting as if your things are invisible.

You were almost touched by your brother’s gesture… but never mind.

"Yah!" You glare at him, but he just shrugs and turns on the TV, putting on a movie. A minute later, Minho joins him.

"What are you studying, kid?" Minho asks, even though he’s already glanced at your book.

"None of your business."

"Oh, is that a new subject? I’ve never heard of it before."

Argh.

"You should help her, Minho. I heard from her professor that she scored low on a quiz," Jisung says, his tone annoyingly casual.

How does he know that?

"Really?" Minho leans forward, peering at what you’re writing. "Well, chemistry is indeed tough."

"Help her out. You always got high scores in that subject back in the day."

You’re listening to them while half-heartedly writing, your earbuds now turned down low. You’re trying to pretend they’re just ghosts, but hearing them talk about your struggles in chemistry makes you want to join the conversation.

"Sure, if you give me that game console," Minho quips.

"On second thought, I think my sister will manage just fine."

Arghhh.

You can’t take it anymore. You gather up your things, smack your brother’s leg, and stomp upstairs.

Later, you’re back in your study area, trying to focus again when there’s a knock on your door. It can only be one of them since the three of you are the only ones at home. Your parents are working, even on a Sunday.

"What?!" you yell, your irritation clear.

You’re about to open the door when it swings open on its own, revealing Minho.

"You shouldn’t talk like that to your tutor," he says, flicking your forehead.

"Ow!"

Tutor? Jisung must’ve given him the console.

You don’t bother complaining because, aside from being tired… well, yeah, you’re just too tired.

"You should listen well, okay? If you don’t, we won’t get married," Minho teases, treating you like a child as always. You hate it, but you’re too drained to argue.

"Okay." You roll your eyes for the ninth time and settle in to listen as he starts to explain.

The tutorial is full of bickering and Minho’s relentless teasing, but unexpectedly, you finally understand the material. Your questions are answered, and for the first time in a while, you feel a bit of relief.

"Thank you," you say as you bid him goodbye.

"Goodbye. Let me know when you get home. And say hi to your baby cats for me," your brother says, waving Minho off.

"How did your chemistry exam go?"

You’re happy with your results and you share them with Minho.

"I got an almost perfect score!"

"Really?" He messes up your hair. "Then you should thank me. You owe me."

"I’ll get Jisung’s console for you," you joke

Minho is at your house again. He says they have a group study session, but Jisung isn’t home yet. You both settled into the living room, the hum of the TV in the background as Minho lounged on the couch, his legs stretched out comfortably. You took a seat on the floor, leaning against the couch, your study materials spread out on the coffee table.

“So, what else do you need help with, little genius?” Minho teased, nudging your shoulder with his foot.

You rolled your eyes playfully. “I don’t need your help again, Mr. Top Student. I can manage just fine on my own.”

Minho chuckled, the sound light and teasing. “Sure, you can. But remember, you owe me for that almost perfect score. I think I might start charging for my tutoring services.”

“Don’t push your luck,” you shot back, a smile tugging at your lips.

Minho leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand as he looked at you, his expression softening slightly. “You know, you’re pretty impressive. Balancing all this studying and still managing to have a sense of humor.”

You felt a small flutter in your stomach at his words, a sensation that caught you off guard. You quickly masked it with a smirk. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Minho.”

He grinned, leaning back against the couch. “Who says I’m flattering you? I’m just stating facts.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but the words got caught in your throat when you met his gaze. There was something different in his eyes, something that made your heart skip a beat. The usual playful glint was still there, but beneath it was a warmth that made you feel… special.

You quickly looked away, focusing on the notes in front of you, trying to shake off the unexpected feeling. “Anyway, where’s this group of yours? I thought you were supposed to be studying.”

Minho shrugged, casually twirling a pen between his fingers. “They’re running late. I guess they’re not as eager to study as I am.”

“Right, because you’re so eager,” you muttered, the sarcasm clear in your voice.

He chuckled again, the sound warm and familiar. “Maybe I just wanted an excuse to hang out with you. You’re much more fun than Jisung.”

Your heart fluttered again, and you bit your lip, trying to keep your cool. “You’re just saying that because I actually study, unlike my brother.”

“True,” he agreed, his tone light. “But also because you’re interesting. I never know what you’re going to say next.”

You were about to respond when you heard the front door open and Jisung’s voice echo through the house. “I’m back! Did I miss anything?”

You quickly straightened up, feeling a strange mix of relief and disappointment that your brother had arrived. Minho, however, just smiled, a mischievous glint returning to his eyes as he leaned over and whispered in your ear, “We’ll continue this later.”

Your breath hitched at the closeness, and for a moment, you couldn’t think of a single thing to say. As Minho pulled back with a wink, you felt the butterflies in your stomach take flight.

Jisung entered the living room, oblivious to the tension that had suddenly filled the air. “Hey, what are you two up to?”

“Just studying,” Minho replied casually, as if nothing had happened, though the smirk on his face told a different story.

You nodded, trying to compose yourself. “Yeah, just studying.”

But as you glanced at Minho, who was now chatting with your brother like everything was normal, you couldn’t help but wonder if things between you had just shifted in a way you hadn’t expected. And as much as you tried to deny it, you couldn’t ignore the fact that, for the first time, Minho’s teasing had made your heart race in a way you couldn’t quite understand.

You were walking through the university courtyard, your thoughts scattered as you mentally planned your study schedule for the rest of the day. It had been a busy week, and you were looking forward to some peace and quiet when you suddenly spotted Minho across the way. He was chatting animatedly with a girl, her laughter ringing out as he carried a stack of books for her.

You instinctively slowed your pace, your eyes lingering on them for a moment longer than you intended. The girl was pretty, with a bright smile and an easygoing vibe that made her seem instantly likable. She playfully nudged Minho with her shoulder, and he grinned back at her, that familiar teasing spark in his eyes.

For a second, you considered changing your route, avoiding the interaction altogether. But then you stopped yourself. Why would you do that? It’s not like it mattered. It wasn’t like you cared who Minho was talking to, or how close they seemed. Right?

So you took a deep breath and kept walking, your expression carefully neutral as you approached them. As you got closer, Minho caught sight of you, and his grin widened.

“Well, well, well, look who it is,” he called out, his voice full of mock surprise. “You just couldn’t resist, could you? Saw my handsome face and had to come over.”

You rolled your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. “Oh please, I just happened to be walking by. Don’t flatter yourself.”

The girl next to him laughed at your banter, and you noticed the way she lightly slapped his arm, a gesture that spoke of familiarity. It was clear they were close. Your eyes flickered to her, and you couldn’t help but feel a tiny pang of something—what was it? Jealousy? Annoyance? Whatever it was, you quickly pushed it down.

Minho noticed your glance and, as if reading your mind, raised an eyebrow. “Ah, sorry. Where are my manners? This is Seoyun, a friend from my class. Seoyun, this is my little genius here,” he added with a teasing smirk.

You gave her a polite nod, trying to ignore the way your heart skipped at the word “friend.” “Nice to meet you, Seoyun.”

“Nice to meet you too!” she replied cheerfully. “Minho’s told me a lot about you. He says you’re quite the brainiac.”

You shot Minho a look, and he just grinned, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Yeah, well, someone’s got to keep him in line,” you said, your tone light but with a hint of sarcasm.

Seoyun laughed again, and you couldn’t help but notice how comfortable they seemed together. It was… unsettling in a way you couldn’t quite pinpoint. But you weren’t about to dwell on it.

“Well, I’ve got to get going,” you said, glancing at your watch. “Places to be, things to study.”

“Always so busy,” Minho said, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “But you know, all work and no play…”

“…keeps you out of trouble,” you finished for him with a smirk. “But don’t worry about me. I’ll manage.”

Seoyun smiled at you again, giving a little wave. “It was nice meeting you. Hopefully, we’ll see each other around.”

“Yeah, maybe,” you replied, waving back before turning to continue on your way.

As you walked away, you couldn’t help but glance over your shoulder, just once, to see Minho and Seoyun laughing together as they continued their conversation. You tried to ignore the uneasy feeling that settled in your chest, brushing it off as nothing.

‘She must be his girlfriend,’ you thought to yourself, trying to sound nonchalant even in your own mind. And then you shrugged, forcing yourself to focus on your day ahead. ‘Why would I care?’

But even as you walked away, you couldn’t quite shake the image of them together, the way they seemed to fit so naturally. And for the first time, Minho’s teasing didn’t just annoy you—it made you feel something deeper, something you weren’t ready to face just yet.

“Hey.”

You looked up at the voice calling your name. It was Jeongin, your classmate.

“We got paired for the presentation,” he reminded you. Oh! You remembered now, probably too occupied with other subjects to focus on this. “If you don’t mind, can we start after class? That way we’ll finish early and can focus on other things.”

“Sure,” you agreed, appreciating his practical suggestion.

“Great. We should head to a coffee shop after this.”

After class, you walked together, discussing the presentation details. Jeongin had some good ideas, and you found yourself easily slipping into a productive conversation. The atmosphere between you two was relaxed, and soon you arrived at the coffee shop.

“What do you want?” Jeongin asked as you both approached the counter.

“Latte, please,” you replied, smiling. “Thanks.”

As Jeongin went to order, you scanned the room, your eyes landing on a familiar figure. Minho. He was with a group of friends, casually chatting. When he looked up, his gaze met yours. He smirked at you, and you were about to wave, but then he broke the eye contact and turned his attention back to the person next to him. You scanned the group quickly, noticing your brother wasn’t there.

You tried to focus on your work, but you kept catching Minho glancing at you from the corner of your eye. For the first time, you wondered what he thought of seeing you with another guy. The idea made you smirk a little, enjoying the small twist of the situation. Minho, always so sure of himself, might just be a little thrown off by this.

Jeongin returned with your latte and his own drink, setting them down on the table.

“Ready to get started?” he asked, pulling out his notes.

“Yeah, let’s do this,” you replied, pushing the thoughts of Minho to the back of your mind—for now, at least.

You were studying in the living room, the soft murmur of a video tutorial explaining organic chemistry filling the space. You were too focused to notice Minho entering your house until his voice broke through your concentration.

“Hey, my favorite person,” he greeted with a playful smile.

You glanced around, looking behind you and to the sides. “My brother’s not here,” you stated, raising an eyebrow at him.

He laughed, shaking his head. “Of course you are the one I meant. My favorite person.”

You rolled your eyes, though a small smile tugged at your lips. “If Soonie, Doongie, and Dori were people, they’d be your favorites.”

“Of course,” he agreed, his tone light.

You returned to your studies, but Minho didn’t leave. Instead, he plopped down on the couch, stretching out as if he had all the time in the world. You tried to ignore him, but it wasn’t long before he broke the silence again.

“So, who was that guy you were with at the café earlier?” His tone was casual, but you could feel the underlying curiosity.

You hesitated, not sure how to respond. You didn’t have to be honest, but something made you want to see how he would react. “He’s a suitor,” you said nonchalantly, not looking up from your notebook.

Minho’s expression shifted slightly, but he quickly masked it, leaning back with a smirk. “A suitor, huh? I should tell your brother. Maybe he’ll confiscate your phone so you can focus on studying.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, feeling a spark of irritation. “I’m not a kid, Minho. I can decide who I want to spend time with.”

He chuckled, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Oh, really? You’re still just a freshman. You should focus on your studies instead of getting distracted by things like relationships.”

Your irritation grew. “What about you? You’re in a relationship with that girl you were walking with, but I can’t be in one?”

Minho’s eyes widened slightly in surprise before he quickly composed himself. He knew you were jealous, and he had to hide the smile threatening to break through. “So, you were jealous?” he teased, leaning forward.

You felt a flush of heat rise to your cheeks, and you stood up abruptly, gathering your things. “I’m not jealous,” you snapped, turning on your heel to head back to your room.

As you walked away, Minho couldn’t help but smile. He knew you were, even if you wouldn’t admit it, and that only made him like you more.

Life continues as usual, with your brother Jisung and Minho still finding every opportunity to tease you. Tomorrow is their graduation day, and as you walk into your brother's room to borrow a math book, you decide to ask him a question that's been on your mind.

"Jisung, what’s your plan after graduation?"

You’re genuinely curious, even if you’d never admit it to his face. Despite all the sibling rivalry, you’re proud of him for making it this far.

"Probably end up unemployed," he replies with a shrug.

You give him a deadpan look. What answer did you expect, anyway?

"Obviously, I’ll take the board exam first, then start job hunting," he says while folding his clothes. Then he glances at you, squinting. "You’re not asking because you’re curious about Minho, are you?"

Yeah…no!

You quickly throw a pillow at him, trying to hide your flustered expression. "Do you really think my world revolves around him?" Jisung catches the pillow and smirks, clearly not convinced.

"Even if you don't ask about Minho, I'll tell you anyway. Remember when I told you to spend more time with him? You should’ve listened, because after graduation, he’s going abroad. There’s a job offer waiting for him."

Oh…

You manage a nonchalant nod, but as you leave his room, the news weighs heavily on your mind.

That night, as you lie in bed, you can’t help but replay Jisung’s words over and over. Minho is leaving. The thought sends a strange ache through your chest. You try to tell yourself that it’s not a big deal, that his absence won’t matter—but deep down, you know it will.

Graduation day arrives in a whirlwind of excitement. Your parents are there, beaming with pride, and you stand among the crowd, clutching a bouquet of flowers. You watch as your brother and his friends, including Minho, happily pose for group pictures, congratulating each other and hugging in celebration of finally finishing their studies. The joy is infectious, but there's a tinge of sadness in your heart.

Minho is leaving.

The thought lingers, even as you force yourself to focus on the present moment.

"Hey, little devil, take a picture of us," your brother calls out to you. You roll your eyes at the nickname but comply, grabbing the Polaroid camera hanging around your neck. It is his day, after all.

You snap the picture, capturing their bright smiles and laughter. The moment is perfect, but it tugs at your heartstrings.

Minho is leaving.

No matter how much you’ve pretended to hate him, the truth is, you’re going to miss him more than you’d like to admit.

"Are these my flowers?" your brother asks, reaching for the bouquet in your hands. You quickly hide it behind your back.

"They’re not yours! Mom has your flowers," you retort, giving him a playful glare.

He chuckles, his eyes sparkling with mischief, probably know what you are planning. "Okay, okay, I get it."

Just then, Minho approaches you, his usual teasing grin in place. "Can you take a picture of me? So you’ll have a souvenir picture of me," he said with a wink.

Pushing aside the urge to roll your eyes. Today, you’re happy for him, even if it’s bittersweet.

"Ha ha ha, I’m honored," you reply with mock sarcasm, but you can’t help laughing with him. You snap the picture, trying to ignore the fluttering in your chest.

"We should take a picture together too," he says suddenly, taking the camera from your hands. He hands it to one of his classmates and stands beside you, draping an arm over your shoulder. You try to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks, secretly pleased to have a picture with him. You’re going to miss him.

After the picture is taken, you slowly extend the bouquet toward him. "These are for you. Congratulations."

Minho’s eyes light up with surprise and genuine happiness as he takes the flowers. "It’s my first time receiving flowers. I’m blushing," he says with a laugh. Then, with a mischievous grin, he adds, "Are you asking me to be your boyfriend? Wait, I need to think about it."

He presses a finger to his temple, pretending to be deep in thought.

You slap his arm lightly, laughing. "It’s a farewell gift, you idiot."

"Wait, you should give me more time to think," he says, closing his eyes dramatically. After a few seconds, he opens them with a playful glint. "Yes. I will be your boyfriend."

You freeze, caught off guard. What?

"So from now on, you’re my girlfriend," he declares, and before you can react, he leans in and plants a quick kiss on your lips.

Your mind spins as his words sink in. "I promised myself I’d wait until you graduate, but I can’t help it—especially since I’m going far away, someone might take you from me." he says softly and laughs, messing with your hair. "So wait for me, okay? I promise I’ll come back to you."

It takes a moment, but you finally manage a small nod, a smile tugging at your lips.

Minho smiles back, his eyes filled with warmth.

You realize then,

more than ever,

that you want him

just as much as he wants you.

Stack of Books

(blue sticky note ending #1)

han jisung x reader x ot8!! han x reader!!! word count: 3.2k

Blue note alternative ending 1 wherein; you choose han jisung. the friend you hide your feelings for a long time.

an: i made han first because aside from i love his character here, a lot dm'd me to do him first. and i hope you liked it because i put my emotions doing this.

an2: im tagging random people im sorry. if you want to be tagged, don't be afraid to tell me

part 1 and part 2 first

Han Jisung is a friend.

That's what you always told yourself whenever you looked at him and felt the butterflies rumbling in your stomach. But when did those feelings start?

It began the day he sang a song just for you.

You always thought of Han as studious, always with his nose in his stack of books, glasses perched on his nose. Whenever exams loomed, you'd choose him as your study partner, knowing his dedication would motivate you to work harder too. He was the perfect study buddy—focused, reliable, always encouraging you when you felt overwhelmed.

You knew he loved to sing; he often harmonized with Chan, his voice effortlessly slipping into the role of a vocalist whenever they worked on a track together. But seeing him holding a guitar, carefully tuning it, that was something new. Something that stirred a different feeling in you.

When he started singing, that’s when it happened—the spark that set everything else in motion. You were in middle school then, and though you were too young to fully understand it, you knew something had shifted inside you.

From that moment on, you hid your feelings. You were terrified that the bond you'd built would change, that Han would notice the way you lingered a little too long when your eyes met. Besides, it didn’t seem like he was ready for anything more than friendship.

When you first met him, he was crying, heartbroken. That image stuck with you, the way his eyes were red and puffy, the way his voice cracked as he tried to explain what had happened. It made you think, Han must have trauma with love. So you buried your feelings even deeper, where he wouldn’t find them.

As the years passed, you both entered college. Han was as hardworking as ever, never sticking to just one job, always pushing himself to do more. He was always busy, always moving. And that, too, kept your feelings locked away.

But then, when you found out he liked you, it felt surreal. How could this be happening? And when you realized it wasn’t just him… that others had feelings for you too, the weight of it all came crashing down. You felt miserable, confused. How did it all come to this?

You cried in your room, your mind swirling with questions and doubts. You didn’t want to choose anyone because you were terrified it would break the friendships you’d worked so hard to build. But deep down, you knew the real reason—there was someone already in your heart, and the thought of choosing him terrified you.

Love is hard, Han had once said to you, and now, more than ever, you understood what he meant.

You’d always been in love with your friend, Han Jisung. And when you received that blue note, a part of you desperately wanted to believe it was from him. But when the truth came out—that everyone had feelings for you—your instinct was to bury your love even deeper, where it couldn’t hurt anyone.

A sudden knock on your door snapped you out of your thoughts. You opened it, and there he was—Han, standing in the dim light of the hallway.

Without a word, you collapsed into his arms, letting the tears you’d held back for so long finally flow. All the emotions you’d kept bottled up spilled out as you clung to him, needing the comfort of his presence.

“I’m so sorry,” Han whispered, his voice trembling. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. We didn’t mean to make you feel this way. Chan talked to us… he told us everything.”

You pulled back slightly to look at him. His eyes, even in the dark, were shining with a sadness that mirrored your own.

“It’s not your fault,” you said softly, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. “I just… I never expected things to turn out like this.”

Han’s gaze dropped to the floor, his expression pained. “I should have kept it to myself. None of this would have happened if I had just—”

“Don’t say that,” you interrupted, your voice firmer now. “It’s not your fault.”

For a moment, the two of you just stood there, the weight of everything unsaid hanging in the air. Then, as the silence grew heavier, you spoke, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

“I liked you, Han. I’ve always liked you.”

The confession slipped out, and you immediately regretted it, your heart pounding in your chest. Han’s eyes widened, surprise and something else—something unreadable—flickering across his face.

“You… you liked me?” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, looking away, your cheeks burning. “I'm sorry. I can't help but…to say it."

But instead of pulling away, Han took a step closer, his hand gently tilting your chin up so you were forced to meet his gaze. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I was scared,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. And then, when I found out about everyone else… I thought it would be better to just keep it to myself.”

Han’s grip on your chin softened, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin. “I wish you’d told me,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with regret. “I wish I’d known.”

For a moment, the two of you just stood there, the air thick with everything left unsaid. Then, almost as if he couldn’t stop himself, Han leaned in closer, his face inches from yours.

But just before your lips could touch, you turned your head away, breaking the moment. “I can’t, Han,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

He froze, his breath hitching as he realized what you meant. “I… I understand,” he said, pulling back slightly, though the hurt in his eyes was clear. “But why? Why are you so scared? Is it because you’re afraid of hurting others?”

You nodded, unable to meet his gaze. “I don’t want to lose anyone. I don’t want to break the friendships we’ve built.”

Han was silent for a moment, then he gently took your hand in his. “Why don’t you just choose yourself?” he asked quietly. “Choose what you want. Listen to your heart, not what you think others want.”

His words hit you like a wave, the simplicity and truth of them sinking in. Slowly, you turned back to him, and as your eyes met, you saw something in his gaze that gave you the courage to lean in this time.

--

Monday arrived with a heaviness in your chest that you couldn't quite shake. You walked into school, trying to appear normal, but the weight of everything that had happened over the weekend lingered in your mind. As you entered the classroom and took your seat, you could feel the eyes of Changbin and Seungmin on you, their concern palpable even without words.

You glanced up and forced a small smile, hoping it would be enough to ease their worries. Changbin returned the smile, though you could see the tension in his expression soften slightly.

The day dragged on, with every minute feeling like an hour. Your thoughts kept drifting back to the events that had turned your world upside down.

As the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, you began to pack your things, your movements slow and deliberate. You were lost in thought when Changbin suddenly appeared beside you, his presence breaking through your reverie. Without a word, he reached out and gently took hold of your wrist.

“Let’s talk,” he said, his voice quiet but firm.

Before you could respond, he was already guiding you out of the classroom, his grip on your wrist both comforting and insistent. You glanced back at Seungmin, who was watching the two of you with an unreadable expression. He didn’t say anything, just gave you a slight nod, as if to give his silent approval for whatever conversation was about to unfold.

Changbin led you to an empty room, far from the prying eyes of your classmates. The door closed behind you with a soft click, sealing the two of you in a bubble of tense silence. He let go of your wrist slowly, his fingers lingering for just a moment before he stepped back, giving you space.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The quiet between you was thick with unspoken words and emotions that neither of you knew how to express. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, the anxiety twisting in your stomach as you waited for him to speak.

Finally, Changbin broke the silence. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice low and filled with regret.

You blinked, not expecting those words to be the first thing out of his mouth. “Why would you be sorry?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He looked down at the floor, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. “Because… I know this has been hard on you. I didn’t want to make things complicated. I didn’t want to scare you.”

His words hung in the air, and you felt a pang of guilt twist in your chest. You understood what he was trying to say. Love wasn’t something anyone could control, and feelings, once they took root, were difficult to stop. You knew that all too well.

“I understand,” you said softly, trying to find the right words. “But you don’t have to apologize for how you feel. None of this is your fault.”

Changbin looked up at you then, his eyes filled with a sadness that took your breath away. “I didn’t want anything to change between us,” he admitted, his voice wavering. “That’s why I was a coward. I couldn’t bring myself to say it, so I… I put that note in your binder instead. Like Minho said… it was a coward’s move.”

You hesitated for a moment, the truth sitting heavily on your tongue. But you knew you couldn’t keep it to yourself any longer. “Changbin… I need to tell you something,” you began, your heart racing. “I like Han.”

The words fell from your lips, and you watched as they hit Changbin like a physical blow. His eyes widened, and for a moment, he looked like he’d been punched in the gut. But then he quickly composed himself, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“It’s okay,” he said, though his voice was strained. “I kind of figured… I mean, I always noticed how you looked at him. It’s okay. We can still be friends, right?”

You nodded, though you could see the hurt in his eyes, the way he was trying so hard to pretend it didn’t matter. “Of course, we can,” you assured him, even though you both knew things wouldn’t be the same.

Changbin’s smile faltered, and he looked away, swallowing hard. “This is my punishment,” he said, more to himself than to you. “For playing around with hearts… for being careless.”

“Changbin…” you started, but he shook his head, cutting you off.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll take it. I’ll take the punishment,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “But I just want you to be happy, okay? Even if it’s not with me.”

With that, he turned and left the room, leaving you standing there with the weight of his words pressing down on you.

-

Jeongin, who always had a knack for making sure you were okay, suddenly sent you a text.

Jeongin: "Hey, how are you?"

You stared at the screen for a moment, unsure of how to respond. The events of the day weighed heavily on your heart, and for once, you decided not to hide it.

You: "I'm not okay."

His reply came almost instantly.

Jeongin: "Where are you? Let me treat you to your favorite toothpaste-flavored ice cream."

Despite everything, you couldn’t help but smile at his offer. Jeongin knew you too well. The thought of him wanting to keep things normal, to not let anything change between you, filled you with a warmth that eased some of the tension in your chest.

You agreed to meet him at the usual ice cream shop, the one that always smelled of fresh waffle cones and sugary sweetness. When you arrived, Jeongin was already there, waiting for you with a familiar smile. He handed you your favorite mint chocolate ice cream without a word, as if it were a remedy for all your troubles.

You sat down across from him, and he watched you eat, his eyes filled with a quiet concern. He always had this way of making you feel like everything was going to be okay, even when it wasn’t.

After a few minutes, Jeongin finally spoke up. “So, did you talk to Han?”

His question caught you off guard, and your hand froze mid-bite. The truth was, Jeongin knew more than you’d ever admitted out loud. He’d seen it long before you were willing to accept it yourself—the way your eyes lingered on Han, the way your heart seemed to beat a little faster whenever he was near.

Jeongin had always known.

You looked down at your ice cream, unable to meet his eyes. “Yes,” you murmured.

Jeongin nodded, as if he expected that answer. “You know,” he began, his voice gentle, “I’ve known for a while that you liked Han. I saw it from the beginning.”

You felt a lump form in your throat, and tears welled up in your eyes. Before you could wipe them away, Jeongin slid a tissue across the table, his lips curving into a soft smile.

“You look like a kid right now,” he teased lightly. “You’re a year older than me, but sometimes it feels like you’re years younger.”

His playful tone made you laugh, even as you took the tissue and dabbed at your eyes. Jeongin always had a way of lightening the mood, of making everything seem a little less heavy, a little less painful.

“What’s your plan?” he asked, his tone turning more serious.

You sighed, shaking your head. “I don’t know, Jeongin. I really don’t know.”

He grinned, leaning back in his chair. “Well, if you don’t know the answer, I’m always here, you know. Just in case.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his playful tone, and Jeongin joined in, his laughter warm and genuine. The sound of it eased some of the burden you’d been carrying, and for a moment, you could almost forget the chaos that had become your life.

Then Jeongin’s expression softened, and he reached across the table to take your hand in his. “Whatever happens, I’ll always be here for you,” he said, his voice filled with sincerity. “As a friend.”

You looked into his eyes, seeing the unwavering support and care that had always been there. Jeongin wasn’t just saying it to make you feel better; he truly meant it. No matter what happened, no matter how complicated things became, you knew you could always count on him.

And that realization brought you a comfort that you desperately needed.

--

You watched Han from your seat, your gaze fixated on him as he stood behind the counter of the library. His attention was focused on the task at hand, scanning the barcodes of borrowed books with a meticulous precision. The afternoon sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a soft glow on his features, highlighting the way his glasses framed his eyes. Every now and then, he would adjust them, a small habit you found oddly endearing.

He was always so serious when he worked, so dedicated and focused. It was one of the many things you admired about him. There was something about the way he moved, the quiet efficiency in his actions, that never failed to draw you in.

As you continued to watch him, lost in your thoughts, he suddenly looked up. Your eyes met, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to fade away. Han’s expression softened, and he offered you a small, warm smile. It was a smile that reached his eyes, causing them to crinkle at the corners in that familiar way that always made your heart flutter.

You smiled back, your lips curving into a soft grin, the connection between you lingering in the air.

Now, the two of you were seated across from each other at one of the small wooden tables nestled in a quiet corner of the library. Han had finished his shift and joined you without a word, simply taking a seat opposite you. For a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable; it was filled with an understanding that had developed over years of friendship.

You found yourself just looking at him, really looking at him, and suddenly, the weight of everything you’d kept hidden felt overwhelming. The feelings you had tried so hard to suppress, to deny, surged to the surface with a force that left you breathless. You realized, with startling clarity, just how much you liked him—how much you had always liked him.

Before you could second-guess yourself, you reached out, your hand trembling slightly as it found his. His skin was warm against yours, and the simple act of holding his hand felt like a bridge you were finally crossing after standing on the edge for so long.

Your thoughts raced back to all the times you had convinced yourself to stay silent, to keep your feelings hidden for the sake of your friendship. You had tried so hard, told yourself that it was better this way, safer. But now, sitting here with him, with his hand in yours, it all felt so futile, so unnecessary.

A small, bittersweet smile played on your lips as you finally allowed the truth to escape. “I like you, Han.”

The words felt both wrong and right at the same time. Wrong because you had been so determined to never let them slip, and right because, at this moment, it felt like a release, a weight lifted off your shoulders. The vulnerability in your voice made your heart race, but it also brought a sense of relief you hadn’t expected.

Han’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, but only for a moment. Then, his expression softened, and he squeezed your hand gently. “You don’t know how much I like you.”

A quiet, shared laugh bubbled up between you, both of you mindful of the library’s hushed atmosphere. It was a laugh filled with nervousness and relief, a shared understanding that you had finally crossed a line that had been looming between you for so long.

As you sat there, your hands still intertwined, you realized something important. No matter how hard you had tried to control your feelings, to dictate what your heart should or shouldn’t do, it was impossible. The heart had a mind of its own, leading you to places you hadn’t expected, to emotions you hadn’t planned.

You couldn’t force yourself to stop liking him, just as you couldn’t force your heart to stay silent any longer. And now, sitting here with Han, his hand in yours, you were glad you hadn’t tried to.

----

blue sticky note part 1. part 2.

an: ill do minho next

@rose-strk @spearbinnie0327 @ihrtlix @dontaskmemybias @kay-bear200 @hpnsfwaddict @hug4helios @furioussheepluminary @stay-tiny-things @velvetmoonlght @thejentheredhead @wolfiescosplay @eatjin97 @sleepytemper @tajannah-price1 @butterflydemons @just-a-mindless-reader

Want so Bad

genre:; fluff and (..) word count: 3.9K

Minho x reader! Minho x fem. reader!!

wherein: Minho is everything you never wanted in life. But he wants you….so bad.

(an: this is my favorite and i had fun writing while listening to Minho and Jisung's "Want so Bad" again and again and again. so i hope you enjoy reading it!! a comment, like, and reblog is very much appreciated)

"Why are you here?"

You roll your eyes, barely glancing up at the person standing in front of you, your voice dripping with boredom.

"I'm here because I miss you," he replies, winking at you in that infuriating way that always makes you cringe.

You’re in your living room, buried in your textbooks, when this boy suddenly appears in front of you, as if someone summoned him from nowhere.

Minho.

He’s your brother Jisung’s best friend in the entire world—or so they claim. There’s a three-year gap between you and them. They’re in their final year of college, while you’re just a freshman.

You would give him a proper introduction, but the truth is, you can't stand him. You’ve hated him ever since you were 15. He and Jisung have always loved teasing you, making your life miserable whenever they could.

"Jisung! Your favorite family member is here!" you shout, unable to handle Minho’s relentless teasing any longer. Sure, you’re in college now and supposed to be more mature (or so you tell yourself), but after years of dealing with them, you’ve become accustomed to hating their antics.

"I wasn’t even part of the family… but I guess I will be after I marry one of the family members," Minho smirks, his voice dripping with mischief.

"Then go marry my brother," you retort, your expression as nonchalant as ever.

He laughs and casually snatches the book you were studying. You’re so used to his flirty teasing by now that it barely fazes you.

It all started back in high school when Jisung teased you relentlessly, convinced you had a crush on Minho. He found it on your pink diary and read it out loud, complete with the cheesy music that played whenever you opened it. (Well, you did have a crush on Minho back then, but it faded over time.)

Jisung teased you so much that you cried your eyes out, and then he told Minho all about it, sparking years of torment.

"Oh no, my sister might actually ace her exams now that she’s seen her only inspiration," Jisung chimes in as he walks down the stairs, pulling on a t-shirt. You roll your eyes at him too.

"I think I should come over more often. I might just make your sister the top student," Minho adds with a grin.

There goes your peaceful day.

But thankfully, they don’t bother you too much, as they soon move to the kitchen to eat. You try to refocus on your studies, but chemistry is giving you a hard time, so you pop in your earbuds and pull up a tutorial on YouTube. Just as you’re getting into it, a glass of orange juice and a muffin appear on your table (or rather, on top of your notebook).

"Eat, little devil. Food helps you focus more," Jisung says, placing the snacks down.

You mumble a quick thanks, thinking he’ll leave, but instead, he plops down on the couch behind you. You’re sitting on the floor, leaning against the couch, your books and notes spread out on the coffee table in front of you. Then, without a care in the world, Jisung props his legs up on the table, acting as if your things are invisible.

You were almost touched by your brother’s gesture… but never mind.

"Yah!" You glare at him, but he just shrugs and turns on the TV, putting on a movie. A minute later, Minho joins him.

"What are you studying, kid?" Minho asks, even though he’s already glanced at your book.

"None of your business."

"Oh, is that a new subject? I’ve never heard of it before."

Argh.

"You should help her, Minho. I heard from her professor that she scored low on a quiz," Jisung says, his tone annoyingly casual.

How does he know that?

"Really?" Minho leans forward, peering at what you’re writing. "Well, chemistry is indeed tough."

"Help her out. You always got high scores in that subject back in the day."

You’re listening to them while half-heartedly writing, your earbuds now turned down low. You’re trying to pretend they’re just ghosts, but hearing them talk about your struggles in chemistry makes you want to join the conversation.

"Sure, if you give me that game console," Minho quips.

"On second thought, I think my sister will manage just fine."

Arghhh.

You can’t take it anymore. You gather up your things, smack your brother’s leg, and stomp upstairs.

Later, you’re back in your study area, trying to focus again when there’s a knock on your door. It can only be one of them since the three of you are the only ones at home. Your parents are working, even on a Sunday.

"What?!" you yell, your irritation clear.

You’re about to open the door when it swings open on its own, revealing Minho.

"You shouldn’t talk like that to your tutor," he says, flicking your forehead.

"Ow!"

Tutor? Jisung must’ve given him the console.

You don’t bother complaining because, aside from being tired… well, yeah, you’re just too tired.

"You should listen well, okay? If you don’t, we won’t get married," Minho teases, treating you like a child as always. You hate it, but you’re too drained to argue.

"Okay." You roll your eyes for the ninth time and settle in to listen as he starts to explain.

The tutorial is full of bickering and Minho’s relentless teasing, but unexpectedly, you finally understand the material. Your questions are answered, and for the first time in a while, you feel a bit of relief.

"Thank you," you say as you bid him goodbye.

"Goodbye. Let me know when you get home. And say hi to your baby cats for me," your brother says, waving Minho off.

"How did your chemistry exam go?"

You’re happy with your results and you share them with Minho.

"I got an almost perfect score!"

"Really?" He messes up your hair. "Then you should thank me. You owe me."

"I’ll get Jisung’s console for you," you joke

Minho is at your house again. He says they have a group study session, but Jisung isn’t home yet. You both settled into the living room, the hum of the TV in the background as Minho lounged on the couch, his legs stretched out comfortably. You took a seat on the floor, leaning against the couch, your study materials spread out on the coffee table.

“So, what else do you need help with, little genius?” Minho teased, nudging your shoulder with his foot.

You rolled your eyes playfully. “I don’t need your help again, Mr. Top Student. I can manage just fine on my own.”

Minho chuckled, the sound light and teasing. “Sure, you can. But remember, you owe me for that almost perfect score. I think I might start charging for my tutoring services.”

“Don’t push your luck,” you shot back, a smile tugging at your lips.

Minho leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand as he looked at you, his expression softening slightly. “You know, you’re pretty impressive. Balancing all this studying and still managing to have a sense of humor.”

You felt a small flutter in your stomach at his words, a sensation that caught you off guard. You quickly masked it with a smirk. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Minho.”

He grinned, leaning back against the couch. “Who says I’m flattering you? I’m just stating facts.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but the words got caught in your throat when you met his gaze. There was something different in his eyes, something that made your heart skip a beat. The usual playful glint was still there, but beneath it was a warmth that made you feel… special.

You quickly looked away, focusing on the notes in front of you, trying to shake off the unexpected feeling. “Anyway, where’s this group of yours? I thought you were supposed to be studying.”

Minho shrugged, casually twirling a pen between his fingers. “They’re running late. I guess they’re not as eager to study as I am.”

“Right, because you’re so eager,” you muttered, the sarcasm clear in your voice.

He chuckled again, the sound warm and familiar. “Maybe I just wanted an excuse to hang out with you. You’re much more fun than Jisung.”

Your heart fluttered again, and you bit your lip, trying to keep your cool. “You’re just saying that because I actually study, unlike my brother.”

“True,” he agreed, his tone light. “But also because you’re interesting. I never know what you’re going to say next.”

You were about to respond when you heard the front door open and Jisung’s voice echo through the house. “I’m back! Did I miss anything?”

You quickly straightened up, feeling a strange mix of relief and disappointment that your brother had arrived. Minho, however, just smiled, a mischievous glint returning to his eyes as he leaned over and whispered in your ear, “We’ll continue this later.”

Your breath hitched at the closeness, and for a moment, you couldn’t think of a single thing to say. As Minho pulled back with a wink, you felt the butterflies in your stomach take flight.

Jisung entered the living room, oblivious to the tension that had suddenly filled the air. “Hey, what are you two up to?”

“Just studying,” Minho replied casually, as if nothing had happened, though the smirk on his face told a different story.

You nodded, trying to compose yourself. “Yeah, just studying.”

But as you glanced at Minho, who was now chatting with your brother like everything was normal, you couldn’t help but wonder if things between you had just shifted in a way you hadn’t expected. And as much as you tried to deny it, you couldn’t ignore the fact that, for the first time, Minho’s teasing had made your heart race in a way you couldn’t quite understand.

You were walking through the university courtyard, your thoughts scattered as you mentally planned your study schedule for the rest of the day. It had been a busy week, and you were looking forward to some peace and quiet when you suddenly spotted Minho across the way. He was chatting animatedly with a girl, her laughter ringing out as he carried a stack of books for her.

You instinctively slowed your pace, your eyes lingering on them for a moment longer than you intended. The girl was pretty, with a bright smile and an easygoing vibe that made her seem instantly likable. She playfully nudged Minho with her shoulder, and he grinned back at her, that familiar teasing spark in his eyes.

For a second, you considered changing your route, avoiding the interaction altogether. But then you stopped yourself. Why would you do that? It’s not like it mattered. It wasn’t like you cared who Minho was talking to, or how close they seemed. Right?

So you took a deep breath and kept walking, your expression carefully neutral as you approached them. As you got closer, Minho caught sight of you, and his grin widened.

“Well, well, well, look who it is,” he called out, his voice full of mock surprise. “You just couldn’t resist, could you? Saw my handsome face and had to come over.”

You rolled your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. “Oh please, I just happened to be walking by. Don’t flatter yourself.”

The girl next to him laughed at your banter, and you noticed the way she lightly slapped his arm, a gesture that spoke of familiarity. It was clear they were close. Your eyes flickered to her, and you couldn’t help but feel a tiny pang of something—what was it? Jealousy? Annoyance? Whatever it was, you quickly pushed it down.

Minho noticed your glance and, as if reading your mind, raised an eyebrow. “Ah, sorry. Where are my manners? This is Seoyun, a friend from my class. Seoyun, this is my little genius here,” he added with a teasing smirk.

You gave her a polite nod, trying to ignore the way your heart skipped at the word “friend.” “Nice to meet you, Seoyun.”

“Nice to meet you too!” she replied cheerfully. “Minho’s told me a lot about you. He says you’re quite the brainiac.”

You shot Minho a look, and he just grinned, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Yeah, well, someone’s got to keep him in line,” you said, your tone light but with a hint of sarcasm.

Seoyun laughed again, and you couldn’t help but notice how comfortable they seemed together. It was… unsettling in a way you couldn’t quite pinpoint. But you weren’t about to dwell on it.

“Well, I’ve got to get going,” you said, glancing at your watch. “Places to be, things to study.”

“Always so busy,” Minho said, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “But you know, all work and no play…”

“…keeps you out of trouble,” you finished for him with a smirk. “But don’t worry about me. I’ll manage.”

Seoyun smiled at you again, giving a little wave. “It was nice meeting you. Hopefully, we’ll see each other around.”

“Yeah, maybe,” you replied, waving back before turning to continue on your way.

As you walked away, you couldn’t help but glance over your shoulder, just once, to see Minho and Seoyun laughing together as they continued their conversation. You tried to ignore the uneasy feeling that settled in your chest, brushing it off as nothing.

‘She must be his girlfriend,’ you thought to yourself, trying to sound nonchalant even in your own mind. And then you shrugged, forcing yourself to focus on your day ahead. ‘Why would I care?’

But even as you walked away, you couldn’t quite shake the image of them together, the way they seemed to fit so naturally. And for the first time, Minho’s teasing didn’t just annoy you—it made you feel something deeper, something you weren’t ready to face just yet.

“Hey.”

You looked up at the voice calling your name. It was Jeongin, your classmate.

“We got paired for the presentation,” he reminded you. Oh! You remembered now, probably too occupied with other subjects to focus on this. “If you don’t mind, can we start after class? That way we’ll finish early and can focus on other things.”

“Sure,” you agreed, appreciating his practical suggestion.

“Great. We should head to a coffee shop after this.”

After class, you walked together, discussing the presentation details. Jeongin had some good ideas, and you found yourself easily slipping into a productive conversation. The atmosphere between you two was relaxed, and soon you arrived at the coffee shop.

“What do you want?” Jeongin asked as you both approached the counter.

“Latte, please,” you replied, smiling. “Thanks.”

As Jeongin went to order, you scanned the room, your eyes landing on a familiar figure. Minho. He was with a group of friends, casually chatting. When he looked up, his gaze met yours. He smirked at you, and you were about to wave, but then he broke the eye contact and turned his attention back to the person next to him. You scanned the group quickly, noticing your brother wasn’t there.

You tried to focus on your work, but you kept catching Minho glancing at you from the corner of your eye. For the first time, you wondered what he thought of seeing you with another guy. The idea made you smirk a little, enjoying the small twist of the situation. Minho, always so sure of himself, might just be a little thrown off by this.

Jeongin returned with your latte and his own drink, setting them down on the table.

“Ready to get started?” he asked, pulling out his notes.

“Yeah, let’s do this,” you replied, pushing the thoughts of Minho to the back of your mind—for now, at least.

You were studying in the living room, the soft murmur of a video tutorial explaining organic chemistry filling the space. You were too focused to notice Minho entering your house until his voice broke through your concentration.

“Hey, my favorite person,” he greeted with a playful smile.

You glanced around, looking behind you and to the sides. “My brother’s not here,” you stated, raising an eyebrow at him.

He laughed, shaking his head. “Of course you are the one I meant. My favorite person.”

You rolled your eyes, though a small smile tugged at your lips. “If Soonie, Doongie, and Dori were people, they’d be your favorites.”

“Of course,” he agreed, his tone light.

You returned to your studies, but Minho didn’t leave. Instead, he plopped down on the couch, stretching out as if he had all the time in the world. You tried to ignore him, but it wasn’t long before he broke the silence again.

“So, who was that guy you were with at the café earlier?” His tone was casual, but you could feel the underlying curiosity.

You hesitated, not sure how to respond. You didn’t have to be honest, but something made you want to see how he would react. “He’s a suitor,” you said nonchalantly, not looking up from your notebook.

Minho’s expression shifted slightly, but he quickly masked it, leaning back with a smirk. “A suitor, huh? I should tell your brother. Maybe he’ll confiscate your phone so you can focus on studying.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, feeling a spark of irritation. “I’m not a kid, Minho. I can decide who I want to spend time with.”

He chuckled, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Oh, really? You’re still just a freshman. You should focus on your studies instead of getting distracted by things like relationships.”

Your irritation grew. “What about you? You’re in a relationship with that girl you were walking with, but I can’t be in one?”

Minho’s eyes widened slightly in surprise before he quickly composed himself. He knew you were jealous, and he had to hide the smile threatening to break through. “So, you were jealous?” he teased, leaning forward.

You felt a flush of heat rise to your cheeks, and you stood up abruptly, gathering your things. “I’m not jealous,” you snapped, turning on your heel to head back to your room.

As you walked away, Minho couldn’t help but smile. He knew you were, even if you wouldn’t admit it, and that only made him like you more.

Life continues as usual, with your brother Jisung and Minho still finding every opportunity to tease you. Tomorrow is their graduation day, and as you walk into your brother's room to borrow a math book, you decide to ask him a question that's been on your mind.

"Jisung, what’s your plan after graduation?"

You’re genuinely curious, even if you’d never admit it to his face. Despite all the sibling rivalry, you’re proud of him for making it this far.

"Probably end up unemployed," he replies with a shrug.

You give him a deadpan look. What answer did you expect, anyway?

"Obviously, I’ll take the board exam first, then start job hunting," he says while folding his clothes. Then he glances at you, squinting. "You’re not asking because you’re curious about Minho, are you?"

Yeah…no!

You quickly throw a pillow at him, trying to hide your flustered expression. "Do you really think my world revolves around him?" Jisung catches the pillow and smirks, clearly not convinced.

"Even if you don't ask about Minho, I'll tell you anyway. Remember when I told you to spend more time with him? You should’ve listened, because after graduation, he’s going abroad. There’s a job offer waiting for him."

Oh…

You manage a nonchalant nod, but as you leave his room, the news weighs heavily on your mind.

That night, as you lie in bed, you can’t help but replay Jisung’s words over and over. Minho is leaving. The thought sends a strange ache through your chest. You try to tell yourself that it’s not a big deal, that his absence won’t matter—but deep down, you know it will.

Graduation day arrives in a whirlwind of excitement. Your parents are there, beaming with pride, and you stand among the crowd, clutching a bouquet of flowers. You watch as your brother and his friends, including Minho, happily pose for group pictures, congratulating each other and hugging in celebration of finally finishing their studies. The joy is infectious, but there's a tinge of sadness in your heart.

Minho is leaving.

The thought lingers, even as you force yourself to focus on the present moment.

"Hey, little devil, take a picture of us," your brother calls out to you. You roll your eyes at the nickname but comply, grabbing the Polaroid camera hanging around your neck. It is his day, after all.

You snap the picture, capturing their bright smiles and laughter. The moment is perfect, but it tugs at your heartstrings.

Minho is leaving.

No matter how much you’ve pretended to hate him, the truth is, you’re going to miss him more than you’d like to admit.

"Are these my flowers?" your brother asks, reaching for the bouquet in your hands. You quickly hide it behind your back.

"They’re not yours! Mom has your flowers," you retort, giving him a playful glare.

He chuckles, his eyes sparkling with mischief, probably know what you are planning. "Okay, okay, I get it."

Just then, Minho approaches you, his usual teasing grin in place. "Can you take a picture of me? So you’ll have a souvenir picture of me," he said with a wink.

Pushing aside the urge to roll your eyes. Today, you’re happy for him, even if it’s bittersweet.

"Ha ha ha, I’m honored," you reply with mock sarcasm, but you can’t help laughing with him. You snap the picture, trying to ignore the fluttering in your chest.

"We should take a picture together too," he says suddenly, taking the camera from your hands. He hands it to one of his classmates and stands beside you, draping an arm over your shoulder. You try to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks, secretly pleased to have a picture with him. You’re going to miss him.

After the picture is taken, you slowly extend the bouquet toward him. "These are for you. Congratulations."

Minho’s eyes light up with surprise and genuine happiness as he takes the flowers. "It’s my first time receiving flowers. I’m blushing," he says with a laugh. Then, with a mischievous grin, he adds, "Are you asking me to be your boyfriend? Wait, I need to think about it."

He presses a finger to his temple, pretending to be deep in thought.

You slap his arm lightly, laughing. "It’s a farewell gift, you idiot."

"Wait, you should give me more time to think," he says, closing his eyes dramatically. After a few seconds, he opens them with a playful glint. "Yes. I will be your boyfriend."

You freeze, caught off guard. What?

"So from now on, you’re my girlfriend," he declares, and before you can react, he leans in and plants a quick kiss on your lips.

Your mind spins as his words sink in. "I promised myself I’d wait until you graduate, but I can’t help it—especially since I’m going far away, someone might take you from me." he says softly and laughs, messing with your hair. "So wait for me, okay? I promise I’ll come back to you."

It takes a moment, but you finally manage a small nod, a smile tugging at your lips.

Minho smiles back, his eyes filled with warmth.

You realize then,

more than ever,

that you want him

just as much as he wants you.

Blue Sticky Note

straykids fic wherein a mysterious note confession appears in your binder. Unsure of who left it, you embark on an investigation among your eight close friends, each with their own quirks and possibilities.

genre: Fluff. and fluff

ot8 x reader! stray kids x reader!! word count: 3.3k

AN: i want to make a fic with multiple members in it but i might make more of it after i finished all individual members. btw can you teach me how tumblr works? i might pin a masterlist soon hehe

You just got back to your apartment after a long day of classes. Exhausted from wrestling with numbers and equations, you flopped down on your bed and closed your eyes.

But your moment of peace was interrupted by the sudden ringing of your phone.

“Hey,” your friend Seungmin’s voice greeted you through the speaker.

Used to how he always greeted you, you sighed and listened as he continued, your tiredness making it hard to focus.

“You didn’t turn in your literature assignment. I’m on my way to your building,” he said, causing you to bolt upright in surprise.

You had forgotten to give it to him during class earlier. Glad he reminded you. And you were glad to be friends with him because he was the class representative. You enjoyed a lot of benefits from being his friend.

“Okay, thanks for the reminder. No need to come up—I’ll meet you downstairs,” you replied before ending the call.

Grateful for Seungmin’s help, you quickly gathered your things and checked your binder for the assignment. You sighed in relief when you found it. “I thought I lost you.”

As you were about to close your binder, a flash of blue caught your eye. A blue sticky note on the front page—one that you definitely didn’t own.

You pulled it out and read the message, which made your heart skip a beat: “I like you. But i you only see me as a friend.”

It wasn’t the first time you’d received a confession, but this note felt different. There was a mystery to it that intrigued you.

Confusion swirled in your mind as you tried to piece together who might have left this note. The message was neatly written in capital letters, offering no clues about the writer's identity.

Who could it be?

You had a lot of friends, but who might have done this?

You had male friends, all of whom felt like brothers to you. Could it be one of them? But they were like family.

The note was a sweet but outdated way to confess—charming in its own way but not something you’d expect from anyone in particular. You read it again and again, hoping to find a hint about who it might be from. But aside from the neat handwriting on a blue sticky note, you found nothing.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the doorbell ringing. You immediately sprang out of bed, remembering Seungmin.

“I’m sorry,” you said, peeking through the door.

“It’s okay,” he smiled reassuringly. “I know you were tired, so I decided to come up.”

“Oh, thanks,” you replied, quickly picking up some clothes that were strewn on the floor. You grabbed your assignment and saw the sticky note again, hastily hiding it by placing a book on top.

As you handed over your paper, you decided to test the waters, curious about who the note could be from. “Do you own any sticky notes?” you asked casually.

Seungmin’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Why?”

“I was taking notes and thought I might need some,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant.

“You have plenty already,” he said, gesturing to the stack of colorful sticky notes on your study table. “And no, I don’t have any. I keep running out of them. I should buy more.”

He glanced at his watch and then looked back at you, his eyes full of concern. “I should go now. You should continue resting, and don’t forget to eat.”

“Thank you so much, Mr. President,” you said, a playful tone in your voice.

“No problem. Take care and always lock your doors. Bye, see you tomorrow.”

Before he left, Seungmin ruffled your hair affectionately.

As the door closed behind him, you found yourself staring at the sticky note again, your mind racing. If it was Seungmin who left the note, did he feel that way about you? His caring nature and playful attitude seemed to match the tone of the note, but could he really be the one?

Then again, what if it wasn’t him? You couldn’t jump to conclusions based solely on a sticky note.

You took a deep breath, trying to push the thoughts aside. Until you had more evidence, you couldn’t be certain. You needed to consider all possibilities before drawing any conclusions.

Sticky notes and neat penmanship alone weren’t enough to figure out who left the note. Everyone in your class had decent handwriting, and blue sticky notes were too common to offer any real clue. They were practically identical—anyone could have bought them. It wasn't unique, not even close.

So who could it be?

"What are you thinking about?"

You were lost in thought when a voice pulled you back to reality. You looked up to see who it was.

"Uh, nothing," you replied, somewhat startled.

It was Changbin.

He was a friend of yours, though vastly different from Seungmin. If Seungmin was a green flag, then Changbin was the complete opposite—a walking red flag who had a reputation for playing with people’s hearts.

"Let me copy your physics assignment," he demanded more than asked, flashing you a grin that was both charming and mischievous.

Changbin had that bad-boy aura, and you sometimes wondered how you two even became friends. But one thing was certain: he couldn’t be the one who left that sticky note in your binder. When Changbin liked someone, he didn’t shy away from telling them directly. He would flirt openly, not leave anonymous notes.

So no, it wasn’t him.

"Why should I?" you replied nonchalantly. You were used to his antics, which might be one of the reasons why you were friends.

"Because I’m cute, and after class, I’ll buy you your favorite toothpaste-flavored ice cream," he teased.

"It’s not toothpaste! It’s mint chocolate!" you corrected, rolling your eyes.

"My bad," he smirked, unfazed. "Now, let me copy."

Too tired to argue further, you handed him your assignment. Changbin eagerly started copying, his focus entirely on the task at hand.

As you watched him scribble down your answers, you noticed his messy handwriting. There was no way it could have been him—the note’s handwriting was neat and careful, the opposite of his chaotic scrawl.

"You really have terrible handwriting. What are you, a kid? It looks like a storm blew through it," you teased, watching him.

"If I had more time, I could make it look like it was printed with a font," he shot back, not looking up. "But since the prof will be here in a few minutes, I don’t care what you say. Now, shush."

You let him finish copying, trying not to overthink the situation again, when suddenly he pulled out a blue sticky note from his bag.

"I almost forgot to give this to you," he said, handing it to you slowly. "It’s the address for the party this weekend. You should come. If I don’t see even a glimpse of you, I won’t enjoy it."

Surprised, you stared at the sticky note in his hand. It was the same color and size as the one you found in your binder. Why would he have this?

Seeing that you weren’t taking it, he grinned mischievously and stuck it to your forehead, laughing at your shocked expression.

Could it be him?

But…

You glanced at the two sticky notes in your hand, comparing them as you strolled through the expansive university yard.

Confessing like this wasn’t his style.

So it couldn’t be, right?

But the sticky notes were identical—the same length, the same height. Plain as they were, they were unmistakably the same.

Yet, you remembered how he would laugh if he knew someone confessed like this. He’d call it plain, boring, and probably mock the person as weak.

You shook off the thought, placing the sticky notes back in your binder and hugging it to your chest, forcing your mind to focus on your lessons.

"Hey, monkey!" You halted mid-step, rolling your eyes at the familiar voice and nickname.

"What?" you snapped, turning to face him.

"So you really accept now that you’re a monkey?" he teased, laughing. It was Minho.

Your friend (well, sort of?). In your group, you were like a cat and dog—he was the cat, and according to him, you were the dog because your face reminded him of one.

Despite the constant teasing, you appreciated how he looked out for you and was always there when you needed him.

But what did he just say?

"I'm not in the mood to fight with you," you muttered. On a normal day, you would have started bickering with him, refusing to back down until he surrendered (yes, like kids). "What are you, a chicken?"

"Oh, you noticed my hair. Do you like it?" he winked.

"You look like a rooster." His hair was dyed orange, and although he didn’t look like a rooster, you wanted to get back at him.

"That's better than being a monkey," he grinned.

"Crazy."

The two of you walked together, talking about random things with the usual bickering sprinkled in. Then, you remembered the sticky note. You knew it wasn’t from him because, well, why would it be?

Still, you decided to show it to him.

"Who do you think did this?" you asked, handing him the note.

He read it aloud, the words dripping with sarcasm, "That’s the cringiest thing I’ve ever read in my whole life."

Just as you expected.

"You shouldn’t say that! He must’ve gathered a lot of courage to do this."

"Why wouldn’t he just tell you in person? Is he weak?" Minho scoffed, lowering his voice when he saw you weren’t amused.

"Maybe he didn’t want to ruin our friendship."

"Then he shouldn’t have liked you in the first place."

"Can we control our feelings? It’s hard, you know!" You rolled your eyes. "Why am I even telling you this? You don’t understand anything," you mumbled, though loud enough for him to hear. "Anyway, I should go. I have something to do at the library."

"I like you."

You froze in your tracks at his words.

"That’s what he should do! It’s really easy, you know," he said, smirking before suddenly sprinting off in the opposite direction.

What was that?

Confused by Minho's words, you made your way to the library, replaying the conversation in your mind.

"What was that? Does he like me, or was he just using it as an example?"

You tried to shrug off the thought as you arrived at the library. The familiar scent of books enveloped you, a comforting distraction.

At the librarian's desk, you spotted Han, your friend who worked there as a student assistant.

"Oh, what brings you here?" he greeted you with a smile, lowering his voice in contrast to Minho’s usual volume.

"Hello. I’m returning this book." You handed him the physics book you had been hugging to your chest.

"Already? Are you sure you’re done with it? It’s okay if you missed the deadline. You know I can always talk to the senior librarian for you," Han offered, his tone warm and reassuring.

If you were to consider another suspect in your mystery investigation, Han would be a possibility. You’d never questioned how he took care of you before, but now, as you tried to solve this puzzle, you began to wonder.

Could he like you?

Or were you just overthinking things?

No, you shouldn’t read too much into Han’s actions. Like Seungmin, he was someone who genuinely cared for the people he loved.

"No, it’s okay. I’m done with it. Thank you, Han. And thanks for the offer—I might take you up on that one day and maybe never return the book," you joked, earning a laugh from him.

"Now I should go. I need to meet Hyunjin—he asked me for a favor."

"Sure! Take care!"

"Thanks. You too."

As you left the library, you felt a hand on your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks. Turning around, you saw Han, slightly out of breath.

"Hey, was this yours? You forgot it," he said, handing you the sticky note.

You didn’t know how it ended up with him, but you quickly took it and placed it in your binder.

"Oh, thanks."

"No worries. That was a cute confession," he said, still catching his breath, then laughed. "I should get back—lots of work to do."

You nodded, watching as he returned to the library.

A question formed in your mind: Was it Han?

Why didn’t he ask who wrote it?

Why wasn’t he curious?

But then, he did ask if it was yours, as if he didn’t know.

So maybe… it wasn’t him.

"You literally owe me for this one," you whined, though you knew you didn’t have much of a choice as you glanced at your friend Hyunjin, a med student with an ever-present smile.

"Yes, I promise I'll buy you whatever you want," he said, clasping his hands together in gratitude, his eyes gleaming with a sincerity that made it hard to stay annoyed. You sighed, relenting, and extended your arm.

He needed a blood sample for one of his "you-don’t-know-the-details" assignments, and apparently, you were exactly what he needed.

Like a seasoned pro, he pricked the needle into your skin and attached a small hose to collect your blood. It wasn’t the first time you’d been his willing guinea pig, but you couldn’t say no to Hyunjin.

"Thank you," he said earnestly after he was done.

"Right. You should be thankful," you retorted with a mock glare, though you couldn’t help but smile when he laughed.

Hyunjin had the most stereotypical 'doctor-y' penmanship you’d ever seen—impossible to decipher, even as you watched him scribble something in his records.

"By the way, I left a note before in your binder," he said casually.

His words rang in your ears. "What note?"

He smirked, clearly enjoying the suspense. "A note about how you should remember to take the vitamins I gave you."

Oh.

Seeing you internalize his words, he added, "And I noticed another note in there." He adjusted his white coat, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "And I know who put it there."

You looked up at him, curiosity written all over your face as he towered over you.

"And you should find that out on your own," he teased, winking before walking away, leaving you with more questions than answers.

"Why’d you call me here?" Jeongin asked as he walked into the coffee shop, a guitar slung over his back.

"Because I promised to buy you coffee," you replied with a smile.

Jeongin was a year younger than you, a music major who could play practically any instrument, though piano was his favorite.

"Really? But I’m not craving coffee right now. You should buy me a meal. I’m hungry," he said, not even trying to be cute but somehow managing to be utterly adorable.

As per his request, the two of you headed to a nearby restaurant. You let him order whatever he wanted and watched as he dug into his food.

"You must’ve been really hungry," you remarked.

"I didn’t have lunch or dinner yet," he admitted between bites.

"You shouldn’t skip meals like that! Our bodies are our main investment. We need to take care of them," you scolded, playing the role of the older sibling.

"I know, Mom," he teased.

"Good son," you laughed.

"Are you going to Changbin’s party?" he asked after stuffing more food into his mouth. You took a sip of your strawberry latte, considering your answer.

"I don’t know. I’m kinda busy."

He got back to eating, and you hesitated, feeling a question bubbling up inside you. It felt awkward, but you knew you wouldn’t be at peace until you asked.

"Uh, do you mind if I ask you a question?"

"You're already doing it," he said, his mouth still half-full.

"Let me finish!," you squinted at him. "This question is kinda weird, but…"

"Faster! I’m curious!" He leaned in slightly, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

"Uh, do you know if anyone who’s close to us… erm…" You coughed, trying to find the right words. "…likes me? I mean, like, likes me?"

Jeongin looked up at the ceiling, thinking. "I don’t know who, but I know everyone loves you."

Well, that much was true—friendship came naturally with your group.

"And me too. I love you," he added casually.

"Aw, thank you. I love you too."

He didn’t reply, just smiled at you for a moment before turning back to his meal, leaving you with a warm feeling that was hard to shake.

"I'm so tired of that neighbor of mine!" Felix, a friend who lived three floors above you, burst into your apartment wearing pajamas and hugging his pillow.

"You can’t sleep again?" you asked, watching as he plopped down onto your sofa bed with a dramatic sigh.

"I don’t know what the hell he’s doing in the middle of the night! Was he doing construction or something?" he whined, making himself comfortable. "Oh, this is so comfortable. Let me crash here."

It wasn’t the first time he’d crashed at your place, so you were used to it. You didn’t mind at all.

"Did I bother you?" he asked, his head still buried in the pillow.

"Never."

"I should really move to this floor. It’s so peaceful."

"You could always move into my apartment and be my roommate," you suggested, a plan you’d considered before.

"No way. Someone might get angry."

"Who would that be?"

Felix didn’t answer, his silence leaving the question hanging in the air. You thought he might be teasing, but his continued silence suggested otherwise.

"And I don’t think I could handle living with you," he added.

"Why’s that?"

Once again, he didn’t respond.

"You should get some sleep. It’s past midnight," you said, heading toward your room.

As you were about to close the door, Felix called out, "I know about the blue sticky note in your binder."

You stopped in your tracks.

"Keep it, okay?" he said with a knowing smile before burying himself back into the pillow.

You wanted to ask more, but Felix seemed to be done with the conversation. With a curious mind, you went to bed, pondering over his cryptic words.

“Chan, did you really make this?” you asked, your voice brimming with excitement as you listened intently.

He nodded, a broad grin spreading across his face as he observed your reaction.

“This is the best music I’ve ever heard!” you exclaimed, pressing the earphones deeper into your ears.

“Oh, of course you’d say that because I’m your friend,” Chan said with a chuckle.

“No, I’m serious!” you replied, though you could only read his lips. The music’s high volume made it difficult to hear clearly. “This is amazing!”

“Yeah, that’s Han in the background and Changbin rapping.”

You bobbed your head along with the beats, completely immersed in the music Chan had created.

“Was Jeongin in it?” you asked, recognizing a familiar voice.

“Yes, and Hyunjin, Felix, Minho, and Seungmi—”

“This part is definitely Seungmin!” you shouted, and Chan laughed at your enthusiasm.

You continued listening, enjoying every note until the very last one, which was a soft piano melody.

“Wow, that was beautiful! I still can’t believe my friend created this. It’s a masterpiece.”

“Oh, thanks. That’s a great compliment from the person the song was inspired by,” Chan said with a knowing smile.

You didn’t catch that last part, too absorbed in the music to fully register his words.

“What’s the title of the song?” you asked, still in awe.

“Blue Sticky Note.”

The title made you stop dead in your tracks. Chan’s gaze lingered on you with an unreadable expression, as if he knew something you didn’t.

The realization hit you—the lyrics, the melody, everything about the song—

We’ve been friends for so long, shared laughter and tears, But there’s something more inside, I’ve held back for years. So I turned our feelings into a song, hoping you’d see, How much you mean to me, how much you mean to me.

Oh, blue sticky note, you’re my secret, my confession, Wrapped in notes and beats, my heart’s true expression. In every verse, in every line, it’s you I adore, From a simple blue sticky note to a melody I’m pouring out.

it was all connected to the note you had hidden in your binder.

Unseen Barriers

Felix x reader!! felix x fem reader!! skz yongbok x reader!! word count: 5.5k

a stray kids fic wherein You have feelings for Felix. But Felix, despite being aware, remains determined not to reciprocate for a reason.

(or a forbidden love between you and felix)

an: i know i promised for part 2 of some of my works. but then i posted another fic again, i just cant help it as i read it in my drafts. please i love this soo damn much. so please love this also as much as i love it.)

It was Valentine’s Day, and Felix sighed as he stared at his locker overflowing with flowers, letters, and chocolates. He knelt down to pick up the ones that had fallen, his expression void of any excitement. It wasn’t that he was boastful about receiving so many presents—far from it. The weight of unreciprocated affection made him sigh again, knowing that he couldn’t return the feelings that so many people had for him.

As he organized his things, a girl shyly approached, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear when Felix’s indifferent gaze fell on her.

“Uh, Felix…” she began, her voice wavering, “I accidentally bought two tickets for the movie tonight, and I don’t have anyone to give the extra to. Do you want to come with me?”

“That’s nice of you, but I’m sorry. I have something to do tonight.” His tone was polite but detached, making it clear that there was no room for negotiation.

“Oh… okay.” The disappointment in her voice was unmistakable. “But, um, could you at least take this cookie? I baked it with love.”

Felix’s eyes flicked to the cookie, then back to her. “You should share it with your friends,” he replied flatly, his gaze briefly shifting to the group of girls peeking from behind a nearby wall. Without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving the girl to stand there, clutching her cookie with a crestfallen expression.

Felix didn’t like taking advantage of those who liked him. It was better to let them down early than to let their hopes build up, even if it meant being distant. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets as he headed back to his classroom, his mind already shifting to the next task when a sudden shout echoed down the hallway.

“Oh my god, she’s here!”

Felix glanced up briefly, noticing the shift in the hallway’s atmosphere as all eyes turned to you. He merely shrugged, relieved that, for once, the attention was no longer on him. He slipped away quietly, grateful for the distraction.

Back in the classroom, Felix focused on writing down everything the professor said, his concentration broken only when his phone vibrated in his pocket. He glanced at the screen, noting the sender's name—“Little Boss”—and dismissed it, returning to his notes. But when the phone buzzed again with another message, he reluctantly read it:

Come to the garden. I have something to give you. -

He ignored it, but when his phone rang for the third time, Felix sighed, realizing it wouldn’t stop until he responded. He excused himself from the classroom, and the professor nodded without hesitation. Felix was known as a diligent student, a model for others, so his rare requests to leave class were never questioned.

“What do you want?” Felix’s voice was colder than the crisp air of the garden as he found you admiring the roses.

“You’re late,” you noted, turning to face him with a gentle smile.

“Because I knew this wasn’t important.” His words were like ice, cutting through the warmth of your gesture.

Your smile faltered, but you quickly pushed the hurt aside, stepping closer to him. You thrust a paper bag into his hands, forcing him to take it.

“This is expensive,” Felix remarked, his tone more of an accusation than gratitude.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t steal money from my dad again. I worked hard to buy it, so just take it.”

Felix sighed for what felt like the hundredth time that day. He knew arguing with you was pointless. You were stubborn, and no matter what he said, you’d do things your way.

“You should go back to class,” he said, his voice devoid of any warmth. He turned to leave, eager to put this interaction behind him, but you stopped him with a soft, “Wait.”

He paused, but the impatience was clear in his eyes as he turned back to you.

Gently, you plucked a rose from the bush, you were the one who planted it there, and slipped it into the pocket of his uniform jacket, your fingers brushing against the fabric. “Now you can go,” you said with a small smile, as if the gesture could melt the wall he had built between you.

Felix’s expression remained unreadable as he walked back to his locker, the paper bag hanging loosely from his hand. He opened the locker and stared at the box someone had placed near it—a gift from a janitor who had grown tired of cleaning up the endless cascade of letters and chocolates.

Felix opened the paper bag you gave. Inside was an expensive pair of shoes, the exact ones he had been eyeing but couldn’t afford. His chest tightened with a mix of emotions he didn’t want to acknowledge. This was too much. He couldn’t accept something like this, not from you.

He quickly gathered the rest of the gifts from his locker, piling them into the box. But when he glanced at the paper bag and the rose you had given him, Felix hesitated. He placed the items carefully inside his locker, closing the door with a soft click.

-

It was time to head home. Felix slung his bag over his left shoulder, letting it hang casually as he walked towards the school gate with both hands buried deep in his pockets. He paused near the entrance, his eyes following you as you got into a car. Once you were out of sight, he continued his walk to the bus stop, the familiar route offering little solace.

As he waited for the bus, he found himself absentmindedly staring out into the distance, lost in thought. The bus arrived, and Felix took his usual seat near the window, watching the city blur by as he made his way to your address.

Arriving at your family’s mansion, Felix smiled at the guard stationed at the entrance, offering a polite greeting before stepping inside the expansive grounds. The pathway to the mansion was lined with lush greenery, the carefully tended plants and flowers giving the place an almost paradisiacal feel. He nodded in acknowledgment to the gardener trimming the trees and his wife sweeping up the fallen leaves, their warm smiles a welcome and Felix smiled like a sunshine he was.

The mansion loomed in the distance, its grandeur almost oppressive. Despite its size, it felt empty to Felix—a hollow shell filled with wealth but devoid of warmth.

Felix didn’t head toward the main house, though. Instead, he walked to the smaller house near the garden, where he and his mother lived. As he stepped inside, he was greeted by the comforting scent of home.

"My son is here," his mother said with a bright smile, wrapping him in a tight hug. Felix held her close, his heart swelling with the comfort of being home. He pulled out a bouquet of flowers hidden under table near them, carefully arranged with blooms he had picked from the garden the day before.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

His mother’s eyes welled up with tears as she accepted the bouquet, her voice thick with emotion. “Aw, thank you, my son. I love you so much.”

Felix felt a warmth spread through him as he hugged her again, this time even tighter. He knew how much his mother had sacrificed, and he was determined to give her the world one day.

His mother had been working as a cleaner for your family since Felix was seven, a job she had taken after his father’s business went bankrupt. When his father ran from their responsibilities, leaving them in financial ruin, Felix’s mother sold everything they owned to pay off the debts. The job with your family had been a lifeline, allowing them to survive.

Felix had grown up in your mansion, helping out where he could, especially in the kitchen, where his knack for cooking quickly became apparent. It was during those moments in the kitchen that you first noticed him. He was just a boy back then, but something about his quiet determination and gentle kindness drew you in.

At first, you and Felix became close because you were the same age and both felt lonely in the huge, empty mansion. The house, no matter how grand, felt cold and quiet when your parents were away on business trips, which happened a lot. Felix, who worked at the mansion and lived in a small house on the property with his mother, was a comforting presence. He kept you company, told you stories, and filled the silence with laughter. You spent hours together, finding comfort in each other's company.

But when your mother found out about your friendship with Felix, she was furious. She had always been strict and powerful, and her anger seemed to grow even worse. One evening, she barged into your room, her face full of rage.

“How dare you?” she yelled. “How dare you spend time with someone like him?”

Felix, who had always been kind and respectful, suddenly became the target of her wrath. She saw him as a threat to her carefully managed image and status. To her, Felix was just a poor worker who didn’t belong in her world.

“You will never see him again,” she said, her voice cold. “If you keep this up, I’ll have him kicked out of school and make sure he pays for it.”

Her threats were harsh. She made it clear that if Felix stayed in your life, she would use her influence to ruin him. She promised to take away his scholarship, get him removed from the mansion, and make sure his family suffered. Her power was strong, and the fear she created was real.

Felix, struggling to make ends meet, knew how serious the situation was. He realized that being friends with someone like you, someone from a different world, was too risky. The gap between your lives was too big, and the consequences of defying your mother were too severe. He understood that her threats were real and could destroy not only his future but also his family’s well-being.

Felix saw that you had feelings for him, and even though you were willing to risk everything, he knew it was a fight he couldn’t win. Despite your determination to stand up for him, Felix knew he had to protect you from the fallout. He tried to explain that your worlds were too different and that staying friends was not possible. His words were harsh, and he acted cold, but it was all to keep you from getting hurt.

You didn’t want to listen to his warnings. You were determined to fight for him, believing that love could overcome anything. But Felix, knowing the real dangers and the threats hanging over both of you, stayed firm. He pushed you away to keep you safe, even if it meant hurting you.

The mansion, once warm with your friendship, became a place of silence and sadness. Felix’s absence left a big gap, a constant reminder of how love alone couldn’t overcome the differences between your worlds. The friendship you had was broken by the harsh realities of power and social class, leaving you with the painful lesson that sometimes, beautiful things are destroyed by forces beyond your control. You were both only ten years old at the time.

Now, seven years later, you stood at your bedroom window, watching Felix as he trimmed the plants in your garden. He was still the same Felix—kind-hearted and hardworking—but there was a distance between you now, a coldness that hadn’t been there before. It hurt more than you wanted to admit.

Felix sensed your presence but didn’t look up. He focused on his work, pretending not to notice you watching him.

“Felix!” you finally called out after watching him in silence for nearly twenty minutes.

He lifted his head and met your gaze, his expression unreadable.

You waved at him, trying to break the ice. “Can I come down there?”

Felix shook his head without hesitation, his face remaining neutral.

Your shoulders slumped in disappointment, but you managed to muster a small smile. “Okay… maybe next time,” you said softly, almost to yourself.

In the past, you might have ignored his refusal and come down anyway, defying the unspoken barriers between you. But today, something held you back. Perhaps it was the realization that no matter how much you loved him, Felix wasn’t going to reciprocate those feelings. Not now, not ever.

-

"Happy birthday to you!"

The cheerful voices of the workers in your mansion filled the room, their smiles bright as they sang the birthday song for Felix. The cook proudly held up the cake he had baked, and Felix's mother carefully lit the candles, her face glowing with love and pride.

Felix had just arrived home from school, tired but content, when he flicked on the light and was greeted with the surprise. His eyes widened in shock, a smile breaking out across his face as he took in the sight of everyone gathered just for him. The warmth of their affection wrapped around him like a comforting blanket.

After they finished singing, Felix went around hugging everyone, gratitude bubbling up inside him. These people had become his family, and he cherished each one of them.

"Now, make a wish," someone called out playfully.

Felix, though not one to believe in wishes, closed his eyes and clasped his hands together. He made a silent prayer, then blew out the candles in one smooth breath.

"What did you wish for?" his mother asked, her eyes twinkling with curiosity.

"Mom, if I tell you, it won’t come true," Felix chuckled, pulling her into a tight hug.

Dinner was a simple affair, but the laughter and camaraderie around the table made it feel like a feast fit for royalty. The night was filled with stories, jokes, and the clinking of glasses as they celebrated not just Felix's birthday, but the bond they all shared.

As the night wore on, the celebration wound down, and Felix found himself outside, gazing up at the stars. The sky was clear, the stars twinkling like diamonds scattered across a velvet blanket. His mother had already gone to bed, leaving him alone with his thoughts and the peaceful sounds of the night.

Felix closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting the tranquility wash over him. Life was beautiful in its own way, but his dreams were bigger than this small world he lived in. He longed for more, to reach heights that seemed distant but not impossible.

His gaze drifted to the window of your room, noticing that the lights were off. He glanced at his phone; there were just ten minutes left of his birthday. A small pang of disappointment tugged at his heart.

Why hadn’t you greeted him?

He looked at your window again, feeling a twinge of regret. "Maybe I was too hard on her," he mumbled to himself, a sigh escaping his lips. Just as he was about to turn away and head to bed, a soft glow illuminated your window. His heart skipped a beat as you opened it, and your eyes met his across the distance.

You smiled at him, a gentle, sincere smile that made Felix’s chest tighten with an unfamiliar emotion. He couldn’t help but smile back, the corners of his mouth lifting as if on their own accord.

You pulled out your phone, and a moment later, Felix's phone rang. He answered it, holding it to his ear as he continued to watch you.

"Happy birthday," you said softly, your voice carrying a warmth that reached him even through the distance.

Felix didn’t respond right away, just listening to the sound of your voice, letting it wrap around him like a warm blanket on a cold night.

"I wanted to be special," you continued, your voice tinged with a shy sweetness. "I hope I was the last one to greet you."

Silence settled between you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. You both simply looked at each other, words unnecessary in that moment.

"Thank you," Felix finally whispered, his voice barely audible.

"Goodnight," you said after another long pause, your voice as gentle as the night breeze. You smiled at him one last time before ending the call and closing your window.

Felix stood there for a moment, his phone still pressed to his ear even after the call ended. A soft smile played on his lips as he looked up at your now-dark window.

The truth was, he had been waiting for you too.

-

The next day at school, Felix was walking through the hallway when one of the teachers stopped him. “Felix, could you do me a favor?” she asked, her voice tinged with concern. “Ms. Kim is out sick today, and we need someone to supervise the class. Could you assist?”

Felix, always willing to help, nodded. “Of course, I’ll take care of it.”

He made his way to your classroom, his expression neutral as he pushed the door open and stepped inside. The room went silent as the students noticed him, some whispering to each other in surprise. Felix was well-known around school—an achiever, a leader, someone everyone looked up to.

You, sitting near the window, couldn’t help but feel your heart skip a beat when you saw him. You’d been staring out at the clouds, daydreaming, when his presence snapped you back to reality. Felix walked to the teacher’s desk, setting his bag down, and then addressed the class.

“Ms. Kim isn’t here today, so I’ll be supervising,” he said in his usual calm and composed tone. “She left some seatwork for you to complete. I’ll distribute it now.”

As he handed out the worksheets, Felix moved methodically through the rows, his attention focused on the task. When he reached your desk, you looked up at him, hoping for a moment of eye contact, but he never glanced your way. He simply placed the paper in front of you and continued on.

You sighed softly, feeling a mix of admiration and disappointment. Felix was always like this—distant, almost as if there was an invisible wall between the two of you that you couldn’t break through. As the rest of the class began working on the assignment, you stared at the paper in front of you, your mind suddenly blank. The questions seemed more difficult than you expected, and you realized with a sinking feeling that you hadn’t studied enough.

Felix had settled at the teacher’s desk, a book in hand, his attention seemingly absorbed in its pages. You felt nervous, knowing he was just a few feet away. His presence, while usually comforting, now only added to your anxiety.

You began to scratch your head, frowning as you tried to make sense of the first question. Your seatmate, Seungmin, noticed your struggle and leaned over slightly. “Need some help?” he whispered, a friendly smile on his face.

You looked at him, relief washing over you, and were about to nod when Felix’s voice cut through the room.

“Everyone,” Felix announced without looking up from his book, “no talking during the seatwork. And no sharing answers.” His tone was firm, leaving no room for argument.

You froze, your heart pounding. Seungmin quickly turned back to his own paper, and you were left to face the assignment on your own. The nerves made it even harder to focus, and you found yourself barely able to complete more than half of the questions.

When the time came to pass in the papers, your classmates rushed to the front, eager to hand theirs directly to Felix. The girls, in particular, took the opportunity to chat with him, their voices laced with admiration and interest. You watched from your seat, feeling a pang of envy but also a sense of reluctance. You didn’t want to hand in your half-completed work, knowing it would only disappoint him.

As the last few students left the classroom, you remained seated, nervously tapping your pencil against the desk. Felix was now alone at the teacher’s desk, organizing the papers with his usual efficiency. Finally, mustering up the courage, you stood and walked over to him, clutching your paper tightly in your hands.

“Felix…,” you started, your voice barely above a whisper. He looked up from the papers, his expression unreadable. “Is it okay if I… maybe, pass this as an assignment? I… I ran out of time.”

He glanced at the paper you were holding, then back at you. There was a long pause, and for a moment, you thought he might agree. But then he shook his head. “No. You need to submit it now.”

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his gaze, even though his tone was still calm, almost indifferent. Reluctantly, you handed over your paper, unable to meet his eyes. Felix took it without a word, his expression unchanging as he glanced over your answers. He didn’t say anything—no criticism, no encouragement. Just silence.

You bowed your head, embarrassment flooding your cheeks as you waited for him to say something, anything. But Felix simply added your paper to the pile and looked back up at you. “Goodbye,” he said, his tone as cool as ever, before turning away and leaving the classroom with the stack of papers in his hands.

You stood there for a moment, feeling ashamed and a bit defeated. You knew you hadn’t done well, and the thought of Felix seeing your poor performance made you feel even worse. With a heavy sigh, you returned to your seat, packing up your things slowly, trying to shake off the lingering embarrassment.

What you didn’t know was that after leaving the classroom, Felix found a quiet spot in the school office. As he flipped through the stack of papers, he came across yours. Without hesitation, he pulled out a pen and began filling in the answers you hadn’t been able to complete, his expression softening slightly. He made sure the work was correct before carefully placing your paper in the middle of the stack, ensuring it wouldn’t stand out.

-

"Congratulations, Felix! You've been accepted to your dream university with a full scholarship! Your dreams are finally coming true!"

The principal’s voice rang out, followed by a wave of applause from the entire faculty gathered in the office. Felix stood there, slightly overwhelmed, as everyone around him clapped and congratulated him.

The smiles on their faces weren’t just for show; they were genuinely proud of him. They had seen firsthand what Felix had gone through at such a young age, how he had fought hard against the odds, and how he had slowly but surely been achieving his dreams. Seeing him take this monumental step forward was a moment of pride for everyone who had supported him along the way.

Felix felt a warm flush of happiness spread through him. He took a moment to thank each teacher, each mentor, each person who had been a part of his journey. Their words of encouragement and pride felt like a soothing balm to the years of hard work and struggle he had endured. This acceptance into his dream university was more than just a milestone; it was the culmination of every sacrifice, every late-night study session, and every ounce of determination he had poured into his education.

When he finally got home, Felix couldn’t contain his excitement. He rushed inside, barely pausing to kick off his shoes, and found his mother in the kitchen. Her eyes lit up the moment she saw him.

“Mom!” Felix called out, his voice bubbling with joy. “I got in! They accepted me with a full scholarship!”

His mother turned to him, and the pride in her eyes made Felix’s heart swell even more. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she rushed forward to embrace him. They held each other tightly, the joy and relief washing over them in waves.

“I’m so proud of you, Felix,” she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. Tears slipped down Felix’s cheeks too, and he didn’t bother wiping them away.

"Mom, we’re almost there," he murmured into her shoulder. "I’ll become a doctor, and then we can finally live happily. I’ll buy you everything you’ve ever wanted.”

His mother pulled back slightly to look at him, her smile radiant through her tears. “I don’t need anything, my son. You’re all I’ve ever need. I’m so happy for you, and I’m so proud of you.”

She kissed his cheek, her lips soft and warm against his skin. Then, with a tenderness that made Felix’s chest ache, she said, “You’ll be living far away now. So you must take care of yourself, alright? Promise me that.”

Felix nodded, the lump in his throat making it hard to speak. He wrapped his arms around his mother again, holding her as if he could imprint this moment into his memory forever. The happiness he felt was indescribable, a mixture of relief, accomplishment, and love.

But as he held his mother, another thought crept into his mind, unbidden and persistent.

How about you?

The question lingered in the back of his mind, casting a small shadow over his joy. Felix pushed the thought away, not wanting to dampen this moment, but it stayed with him, a quiet reminder of something unresolved.

-

Days had passed, and now it was your 18th birthday—a milestone you had been looking forward to, with a grand celebration planned in the garden. From early in the morning, the entire estate buzzed with activity. Workers moved with purpose, setting up decorations, arranging tables, and ensuring that everything was perfect. Despite your parents hiring the most famous event organizer and the best chefs, Felix was among those helping to prepare. He worked tirelessly, assisting wherever he was needed, and when the night came, he was assigned to be a server at the event.

As the evening descended, the party commenced. The garden was adorned with twinkling lights and fragrant flowers, a scene straight out of a fairy tale. Felix moved through the crowd, his expression focused as he carried trays and attended to guests. But amidst the elegant decorations and the mingling of your guests, you were nowhere to be seen. Everyone waited in anticipation for your entrance.

Then, the host's voice boomed over the speakers, announcing your arrival.

Every spotlight in the garden shifted, illuminating the grand doors that led from the house. And there you were, stepping into the light like a vision.

Felix froze in place, his breath catching as his eyes locked onto you.

You were a vision in your debut gown, an opulent violet off-the-shoulder ball gown that shimmered under the lights. The voluminous skirt cascaded like a waterfall, reminiscent of the one Belle wore, but yours was a deep, rich violet—a color that only served to enhance your beauty. You looked like a princess, ethereal and untouchable.

As you walked down the carpet, Felix couldn’t take his eyes off you. You were on one end, and he stood at the other, watching as you approached. When your gaze met his, you smiled— a smile so radiant it made Felix’s heart stumble in his chest.

For a moment, it felt like the world had stopped. The noise of the party, the clinking of glasses, and the murmurs of conversation all faded away. It was just you and him, two souls drawn together in a moment of pure, unspoken connection. Felix, who had never believed in fantasies or romances, found himself ensnared by the magic of this moment. You were walking towards him, and he stood there, lost in you, until you passed by him, breaking the spell.

Felix blinked, shaking his head to clear his thoughts as you climbed up onto the platform, where the crowd erupted into applause. He realized he had been standing there, staring, completely forgetting his duties.

“Uh, my champagne, please,” a voice beside him interrupted.

Felix snapped back to reality, scolding himself for losing focus. The rest of the evening, he kept his head down, avoiding looking at you, determined to do his job without further distraction.

As the night wore on, the party slowly drew to a close. It had been the best birthday you could have asked for, filled with laughter, music, and joy. But as you bathed and changed into more comfortable clothes, a feeling of incompleteness settled in your heart. The party had been perfect, but something was missing.

You stood by your window, gazing out at the now-quiet garden. The clock showed it was almost midnight. Felix had wished you a happy birthday earlier, but it had been through a simple text, and somehow, that didn’t feel special enough.

Quietly, you left your room, careful not to wake your parents, and slipped out of the house. The garden, which had been full of life earlier, was now still, the remnants of the celebration tidily cleared away. You made your way through the bushes until you stood before the small house you often visited.

Lifting your hand to knock on the door, you were suddenly pulled back. Startled, you turned to see Felix standing there, his grip firm but gentle on your arm.

Without a word, he led you away from the house. You followed him, trusting him implicitly, until you both reached the fountain. The sound of the water bubbling softly in the night added to the sense of intimacy that surrounded you both.

Felix stopped and turned to face you. Even after a long day of hard work, he looked as handsome as ever, and your heart ached with the depth of your feelings for him. You held his gaze, waiting, hoping, not daring to look away for fear that he might disappear again, as he often did.

He sighed, his breath mingling with the cool night air, and reached into his pocket. Your eyes followed his movements as he pulled out a small velvety box. Extending it toward you, he met your gaze once more.

"Happy birthday," he said, his voice low and steady.

You looked up at him, your heart fluttering. You had heard those words countless times today, but coming from him, they felt different—more special, more meaningful.

He opened the box, revealing a delicate silver necklace with a rose pendant nestled inside. The simplicity and beauty of it took your breath away.

"It’s not as expensive as what you’re used to, but I hope—"

"It’s beautiful!" you exclaimed, your voice filled with genuine delight. It was the most beautiful necklace you had ever seen.

Felix smiled, a small but sincere curve of his lips that made your heart race.

"Can you put it on me?" you asked, your voice soft with anticipation.

Felix hesitated, his eyes widening slightly before he nodded. You gathered your hair in your hands, lifting it to expose your neck, and Felix stepped closer. The proximity made your heart pound in your chest. You could feel the warmth of his breath near your ear as he carefully fastened the necklace around your neck. Every second stretched, and you found yourself wishing you could stay like this, wrapped in his presence.

But all too soon, Felix stepped back, breaking the spell once more. You almost shivered from the loss of his warmth, but his words brought comfort.

“It’s beautiful on you,” he said, his voice soft as he admired the necklace resting against your skin.

You held the pendant between your fingers, feeling the warmth of his sincerity. “Thank you so much, Felix,” you said, your voice full of emotion. “You made my day complete.”

In that moment, overwhelmed by the intensity of your feelings, you stepped closer to him and leaned in, pressing your lips to his. The kiss was soft, tentative, but it held all the emotions you had been carrying for so long. It felt magical, a perfect expression of the love you had kept hidden in your heart.

A lone tear escaped your eye as you pulled away, the realization of how deeply you loved him settling in. It was a love that hurt, a love that felt too big to contain.

But as you started to turn away, Felix caught your wrist, pulling you back to him. Before you could react, he kissed you.

It was different this time. His lips moved against yours with a steadiness that took your breath away. When you finally registered what was happening, you wrapped your arms around his neck, responding with all the love you had stored in your heart.

Felix had always been a part of your world, a constant presence in the background of your life. But now, standing here with him, you realized that love wasn’t always easy. Loving him had been hard, full of obstacles and unspoken words, but for Felix, this moment was a revelation.

He realized he had been too much of a coward, hiding behind his own fears and uncertainties. But as he kissed you, he knew that hiding was no longer an option. This was the moment where everything became clear.

As you both held onto each other in the quiet of the night, you understood that love was worth the risk.