The Only Exception

The only exception

barista Minho x reader. strangers to lovers. slow burn. if you can, listen to The only exception by Paramore while reading :)

Minho was content with straying away as far as possible from love. That is until you stumbled into his café on a rainy night, and unwittingly, into his life.

skz song series masterlist

i.

Minho sweeps the countertop with a blue rug, wiping away the scattered droplets of spilled coffee. He grabs a pastry from the showcase- a blondie with a raspberry drizzle on top, placing it on a plate decorated with dainty flowers. And then he gives it to the middle-aged man sitting near the back of the café. 

Minho is in Aurora, completing his mid-day shift, and yet it feels as if he's only physically there. His body is moving on auto-pilot, mechanically performing the familiar tasks etched into his memory by now. And he likes it, since it drowns out the tumultuous thoughts plaguing his mind.

Minho used to look forward to the days when Marta- Aurora's exceptional baker, would prepare blondies. The alluring aroma of the freshly made pastry would waft through the café, enveloping both Minho and the customers in a soothing embrace. He enjoyed preparing the coffee and drawing different pretty patterns on top of it. He also liked the music playing, and sometimes, the manager would even let him play some of his own playlists. 

But that was before Minho got his heart broken, torn in half, carelessly, as if it didn't belong to a breathing human, but rather to an unfeeling entity. Now, his lattes are void of intricate designs, the blondies prepared by Marta remain untouched, and his mind doesn't register the music playing. 

He's just existing, in a stillness he perfectly curated. He's a placid river, undisrupted, running its usual course day after day. 

Minho watches as the man clad in a polished suit finishes his treat, before getting up and leaving Aurora with hurried steps. He eats alone now, Minho has noticed, and his ring finger is void of the gold band he used to wear.

Perhaps that's what Minho's fate would also be. Eating alone in cafés he used to bring his lover to, basking in the chatter surrounding him, in the desperate hope that it'll fill the void inside him. 

ii. 

it's a Thursday, which means Minho is working the night shift at Aurora. It's pouring rain outside, the incessant water droplets a misty veil that fogs up the café's windows. Amidst the downpour, he catches sight of a couple dashing through the rain, hands tightly clutched into one another. They're giggling, as if the rain falling isn't a nuisance, but rather an elixir heightening their love. Minho looks the other way. 

The door to Aurora is pushed open, and Minho watches as you set foot inside. You're drenched in rain, from head to toe, strands of your hair sticking to your cheek. You exhale in relief, closing your eyes for a split second as the warmth of the café surrounds you- like a childhood blanket tightly wrapped around your being. There is a hint of a smile as you walk to the counter. It only grows when your eyes set on Minho. 

"Hi!" you greet cheerfully and he simply nods in return. The weather was horrible and you were probably uncomfortable from the clothes clinging to your skin, so what were you exactly joyful about?

"Can I have hot chocolate, please? Oh, and a piece of that brownie," you point to the showcase, and he follows your line of sight. 

"Sure, anything else?" 

"No, thank you," you smile, and he nods once again. "That will be 10 dollars." 

"Here," you hand him a crumpled bill and he takes it from you carefully, ensuring your hands don't brush against one another. 

You sit down on a chair near the window, and Minho dutifully prepares your order. He brings it to you once he's done, and you grin at him once again. You smile a lot, he thinks to himself. 

Minho goes on with his tasks, cleaning the dirty cups in the sink and grounding the coffee beans. When he's done, he can't help but notice you grabbing some napkins from the table and dabbing your neck and face dry with them. He sighs to himself before retreating to the café's backroom.

"Here, to dry your hair with," he says, handing you a clean towel.

Minho leaves before you could smile at him again. 

iii. 

It's Tuesday, and Minho has just served a freshly baked cinnamon roll to Mark- the middle-aged man who just introduced himself to Minho after months of frequenting Aurora.

Minho liked having regulars in his shifts, familiar faces to look into. This was part of the reason why he picked being a barista as a part-time job- he enjoyed people-watching. Not in a noisy way; he simply liked imagining the lives of the people surrounding him. It served as a distraction from his own. 

Among the regulars was a woman in her thirties who only ordered a chaï latte with a blueberry muffin. Then there was that one student, with blonde hair and freckles dusting his cheeks. He really despised bitter coffee, always ordering his with abnormal amounts of syrup.

And now, there was you too. You've been coming to Aurora regularly for the past few weeks since your initial visit. Minho still hasn't memorized your go-to order because you don't have one. You pick a new drink each time as if you were on a mission to taste everything on the menu. 

You come here alone, occupying the same seat by the window with your chin resting on your palm. He suspects you enjoy people-watching too since you often gaze outside. You also bring books with you, reading them while sipping on your beverage. Sometimes you write too, in a tiny sage notepad. 

And you smile, god do you smile a lot. At young children passing by in the street, at an elderly couple holding hands, at the black cat that sleeps on the edge of the window. And you smile at Minho. Each time you order, each time your eyes meet his from across the café. Minho likes to believe that happiness was so deeply ingrained within you, it became the very essence of your soul- an intrinsic part of your being you could not part with.

The door to Aurora is pushed open and Minho isn't surprised to see you entering once again, your bag loosely hanging from your shoulder. 

"Hi!" you greet excitedly as you usually do, and Minho simply nods, as he usually does. 

"I'm sorry if this is a bit weird," you preface, piquing Minho's curiosity. "I'm not really craving anything today, so can you make me your favorite drink?"

"My favorite drink?" he repeats, a bit incredulously and you nod eagerly. "Yes, I drink anything and I don't have any allergies, so whatever you prepare is fine!" you smile hopefully at him.

He stays silent, mulling over your request. He goes to say no, but the smile slowly slipping from your face makes a strange pang of guilt wash over him.

"On second thought, I'll just have-"

"Okay," he interrupts, "I'll bring it to you when it's done," he quickly says and the smile etches itself on your lips once again. Minho feels an unexpected relief dawn on him at its sight.

"Thank you! I'm yn, by the way," you introduce.

"Minho," he says, although you can read it on his nametag. 

"Minho," you repeat, and he finds himself itching to hear his name dripping from your lips again.

Minho prepares you an iced americano with cold foam, and two pumps of white mocha, since you seem to enjoy drinks on the sweeter side. He watches breathlessly from the counter as you take a sip of it, closing your eyes to fully relish in its taste. Your nose scrunches up in delight before you quickly turn around to shoot him a thumbs up from afar. 

Minho nods, before turning his back to you. Unwillingly, a small smile tugs at his lips. He's glad you liked it. 

iv.

Another Thursday unfolds following its usual routine. Mark occupies his customary spot in the rear of the café, while the scent of Marta's lemon madeleines permeates the kitchen.

Except you're not smiling. 

Minho finds it odd, how there was no cheerfulness in your steps as you walked to the counter. You did not smile while ordering, and your voice carried a tinge of sadness when you thanked him.

You did not ask about his day, nor about his cats- that was also something unusual for you to do. You've asked about them each time since Minho told you about them. He didn't plan on doing so, he just saw you one day eyeing the stickers of his three cats on his phone case, while he was counting your change.

"Are they your cats?" you asked, pointing at them and he nodded, a faint smile dancing at the corners of his lips.

"They are."

"You must love them a lot. They almost managed to make you smile," you teased, grabbing the rest of the money and walking to your usual seat. 

Minho steals brief glances at you, as he prepares your matcha latte, a drink you seemed to enjoy a lot lately. You're gazing at the window almost soulfully, your back slightly hunched as if there was an invisible weight crushing you underneath it. 

Minho nibbles on his lower lip, contemplating his next move, before grabbing the frothed milk. For the first time in months, he draws a little cat on the surface of your drink, just like he used to do a long time ago.

He brings it to you, and his heart flutters nervously as you gaze down at the cup. He almost second-guesses his action, that is until you beam at him, and Aurora suddenly feels brighter than it did seconds ago. 

v. 

"When does your shift end?" you ask Minho as he sets your perfectly crafted matcha latte on the table- an order he has committed to memory by now.

"In an hour, why?" he asks curiously and you wave your hand dismissively. "Just wanted to know." 

The seconds trickle by slowly, as the hour almost comes to an end. You watch as Minho takes off his apron, running a hand through his hair. It's gotten longer now, silky bangs he tucks behind his ear to keep them from obstructing his vision.

He talks a bit to Seungmin, the other barista that works there. And then he steals a quick glance around the room, where he finds you already looking. You wave him over, and he tilts his head slightly in confusion, before walking to your table. 

"Sit down," you smile, gesturing to the chair in front of you. Minho complies silently.

"Here," you take out a container filled with brownies from your bag. "I never properly thanked you, for the towel and for the little cat you drew on my coffee last week. So, here, thank you," you beam at him while sliding the box in his direction.

"I don't- it's nothing, you didn't have to," he says, and you notice a tinge of pink blush covering the tips of his ears.

"I wanted to. I hope you'll like them, I'm not as good as your baker, but I tried," you confess, smiling sheepishly, and Minho feels a sudden urge to vehemently contradict you, to tell you that they must taste good. And even if they didn't it wouldn't matter, because you baked them for him. And that is enough. 

But he bites the inside of his cheek harshly, physically stopping this rush of words eager to escape his mouth.

"Let's eat them together, hum?" he simply suggests, opening the container and placing a brownie on your plate before taking one himself.

"Is it good?" you ask tentatively and he pretends to contemplate your question for a moment.

"They're horrible, right? I shouldn't have taken creative liberties with the recipe and-"

"Yn, I'm just kidding," he stops you, a soft smile on his face. "They're delicious, see," he says, finishing the brownie in one bite. "Really good," he compliments, reaching for another piece. 

"Okay," you smile in relief, eyes crinkling closed. The sunlight is streaming through the window, casting a golden shadow on your face. You are swaying contently in your place, as you take another bite of the brownie. And you look happy, with him. Minho thinks the brownies are the best he's ever had because he's sharing them with you. Because he got a taste of your happiness through them. 

vi. 

"Can you believe that professor? He failed half the class and he still thinks he isn't the problem." 

You are venting to Minho about your stuck-up Economics professor, while leaning against the countertop. He's listening intently to you, drinking in the details of your face as you talk to him. For some reason, he finds the smile lines on your face mesmerizing, that and the way your eyebrows move with your every word. 

These subtle details have been engraved into his memory since the day you gave him the brownies, two months ago. He has grown fond of you, sitting at your table at the end of his shift without you having to ask. You also hang out outside of Aurora, going on frequent walks and discovering new food spots. He never felt that the conversation between you two was strenuous, or forced. It flowed naturally, like a waterfall knowing exactly where it should go.

He also finds that smiling is easy with you. At your jokes, your stories, and your existence. He's lost count of the times he found himself grinning widely at your words, or smiling softly to himself at the thought of you coming to Aurora soon.

"He's too full of himself to admit he's the one who sucks at teaching," Minho comments and you clap in agreement. 

"Right! And it's so funny because..." You're still talking but your words go unheard by Minho, like a mindless buzz in the back of his mind. He's frozen in his place, his heart beating wildly in his ribcage as he notices the couple who just came in.

His ex, with the man she cheated on him with. 

"Minho? What's wrong?" you call out, snapping him out of his daze. You're eying him worriedly, and only then does he realize how tightly he's holding the countertop. 

"Nothing," he curtly replies, as he plasters a neutral expression on his face. 

He watches as his ex's eyes widen slightly when she sees him. She forgot he was working here. Of course, it'd be easy to do so since she never visited him at Aurora anyways. Despite the flood of emotions cursing through him, Minho maintains a stoic facade, taking their orders as if she's a mere stranger and not the one behind his shattered heart.

As Minho attempts to prepare their coffee, his hand trembles uncontrollably, forcing him to stop before dropping the milk.

He didn't love her anymore, he was certain of it. But still, the sight of her brought unpleasant memories back to the surface. Ones he tried so hard to bury in the back of his mind. And Aurora was his sanctuary. One, she never tainted with her presence. Has she not taken enough from him already? 

"Minho?" you call out softly, and Minho feels guilty because he left you alone with no explanation. Still, when he turns around, he can tell you aren't upset. You are worried, looking at him cautiously. 

"Is everything okay?" you ask once again, and this time Minho can't find it in him to lie to you, so he simply shakes his head no. 

"Your hand is shaking," you observe, before gently grabbing it in yours. You cover his hand with both of your palms, squeezing it lightly to steady the tremors cursing through it. 

Your hand is warm, and very soft, a stark contrast to the sharp emotions surging within him, like pine needles puncturing his heart.

"Would you like me to serve them?" you ask softly, and Minho isn't surprised you picked up on his unease. You're perceptive, it's one of the things he likes about you. 

"Please," he responds quietly. You simply smile, reaching for an apron and wrapping it around your waist. You look adorable, intertwining yourself with his world, and the sight of you eases the ache in Minho's soul.

A few minutes later, you grab the tray from his hands and walk over to their table. Minho chuckles inwardly when he notices that you didn't smile at them, serving them with a blank face, and his chest warms a little.

He has you on his side. 

Five days later, you're sitting besides Minho on a bench; watching the sun as it dips into the ocean, painting the sky in hues of orange and yellow. Yet, the dazzling colors are the last thing on Minho's mind. All he can think about is you. How you helped him with serving the rest of the drinks that day, how he taught you how to work the coffee machines- a solace from the ugly feelings that roared in him.

"Thank you," he abruptly says and you turn to look at him, perplexed.

"For what you did the other day, with the couple that came in. That was, um... my ex and the person she cheated on me with," he confesses quietly, fiddling with his earlobe. He didn't need to tell you, but he wanted to. "I've moved on, it's just... seeing her again hurt. I don't know why." 

Your eyes soften at him, not in pity, but in care. And Minho doesn't mind being vulnerable with you. It's scaring him, but he doesn't mind.

"It's normal for it hurt, it would honestly be weird if it didn't," you smile gently and he sighs in reply, running a hand through his hair. 

"I wish it didn't."

"Love is a powerful feeling, it consumes our entire beings. That's why it hurts when our hearts are toyed with. But love itself doesn't hurt, I feel like it's what makes our world move. You know, the little gestures humans do for one another, that are fueled by love. Like, um... scratching someone's back or peeling someone's fruit. You don't have to do those things, but you do. Because you love the person, and it makes your existence feel gentler, and softer on the heart." You explain, the words leaving your mouth and wrapping around Minho's soul, healing parts of him that he didn't know were bruised.

"My point is, it's normal for you to be hurt. But I hope you don't close your heart entirely to the feeling. Because we may not have grand things in our life, but if there is a hand that brushes our tears away and one that folds our laundry, then that's enough for us to lead a beautiful life."

Minho blinks repeatedly, in a desperate attempt to keep his tears at bay. He felt as if the letters you uttered unfolded and stretched in front of his eyes, morphing into a gentle hand patting his back. Yours.

You smile softly at him, the water's reflection shimmering in your eyes. And Minho thinks that he's standing on the edge of a cliff, ready to dive into the unknown- into you. 

"How do you do it?" he chuckles in disbelief, as he leans a bit closer to you. "You make me want to believe in love again," he pauses, before adding quietly, "but only if it's with you." 

You remain silent as Minho fidgets with his fingers, before tentatively grabbing your hand in his. He doesn't look at you, his gaze fixated on the way your fingers naturally intertwine with one another- as if finding each other after a lifetime of being apart.

"You know, I'd thought I'd always live like this, keeping a comfortable distance between me and people," he says, raising his head to finally meet your eyes, "and up until now I thought I was content with it, with loneliness, I mean. But... but brownies taste sweeter when I'm with you, and Aurora is brighter when you are in it, and smiling feels like second nature around you. And I don't... I don't think I can go back to being lonely again, not when I've had a taste of you in my life." 

Minho's heart is beating wildly into his chest, and he can hear the blood rushing through his ears, frantically, as if to warn him against what he's about to say. But your thumb caresses his palm reassuringly and he wants to try again. With you.

"I- I never wanted to love again, because no one, none of it was ever worth the risk, but you... You are the only exception."

Minho exhales breathlessly and you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him to your chest. You hoped that your warmth would ease his nerves a bit, that your hand on his back would feel gentle on his soul. You didn't want to rush your answer, trying to think of something that will patch up the deeply carved scar in his heart, a perfectly made band-aid in the shape of syllables.

It's a foolish hope, you realize, to instantly quiet the cries of a bruised spirit. So you simply settle on saying the truth sitting on the edge of your tongue.

"It will be quite hard, and scary for you," you whisper placing a tender kiss on his shoulder blade. "But I'll help you, if you'd let me. I'll take care of your heart better than I do with my own."

vii.

"Hey, baby," you smile at Minho, slipping behind the counter to be by his side. He pulls you by your waist, kissing your cheek softly.

"I missed you," he pouts, and you giggle, playing with strands of his hair, "I missed you too."

"Do you know what day it is today?" he asks, a shy smile gracing his face.

"No...?" you trail out and he chuckles, taking your hand in his.

"Don't worry, you didn't miss my birthday. It's just... it's been a year since you first came into Aurora."

"You remember?" you ask in amazement, your heart swelling with love for the man standing before you.

"Mm, how could I forget you? Also," he sneakily points to a table near the back, "my favorite couple is back."

You turn around, a soft gasp escaping your mouth as you find Mark gently holding the hands of his date. You smile happily when you finally notice it- the wedding ring, finally back on his finger.

the way they reassured comfortingly jungkook trying to calm him down ♡🥹 (cr. soowoozoooo)

Good Luck Charm

Plot: When your cat takes a liking to a nearby neighbor, nothing seems to stop her from escaping.

Pairing: Lee Minho x Gn!Reader

This is part one of my Meet-Cute series, Stray Kids edition! I hope you like it~

-Meet-Cute Series Masterlist-

Warnings: Nothing I can think of :)

Words: 2.4k

"Charm!" You called out softly as you walked through your apartment. "Charm! Come here baby!" You called again, your voice becoming a slightly higher pitch as you tried to get your cat to come out of wherever she was hiding.

Checking her normal spots, but not seeing her, you felt your heart rate spike. Walking around your apartment you continued calling out to her, your panic rising as you couldn't seem to find her anywhere.

Entering your living room, your eyes landed on the window, it was open only a small amount. It was normal for you to open it, and Charm, in your three years of having her, a few months of which were in this apartment, had never even attempted to get out, so why now?

Running over to the window, panic now obvious as you feared she had been gone for too long, you opened the window and stuck your head out.

Your eyes immediately landed on Charm as she sat on the sidewalk below. "Charm!" You called out, watching as she turned around and looked up at you, meowing softly.

After a few attempts of trying to get her to climb back up, and her stubbornly refusing. You ran down to the street as fast as you could, relieved to find her sill sitting on the sidewalk when you got there.

Getting back into your apartment, after chastising her the whole way back, you made sure the window was closed before you allowed yourself to relax.

"You lost your window privileges, I hope you don't miss fresh air too much" You spoke to her as she sat at your feet, an innocence in her eyes you couldn't resist. "Maybe I can get a screen installed."

You sighed after a moment before walking into the kitchen, Charm following close behind "How about some dinner then you jerk."

As you stared at Charm ignoring her food, you feared maybe she was sick, or maybe got hurt on her adventure outside.

"Or did someone pity you and feed you?" Charm stared blankly at you "Is that why you went out? You smelled food on someone who went by?"

Getting no response you shook your head "That have better been a one-time attempt young lady."

You left Charms food on the ground as you began to settle for the evening, hoping the stressful event of the day would not be repeated again.

A few days had passed since Charm and her adventure outside, and you had nearly forgotten about it. Though the window had remained closed.

Until now that is.

You had gotten distracted and forgot your food on the stove, causing the food to burn, and smoke to fill your kitchen. Rushing to the window to open it, you chased out all the smoke, but not before setting your fire alarm off.

After ten minutes of manic fanning and two failed attempts and shutting the alarm off, you plopped down on your couch, breathless.

"So much for lunch." You mumbled as you looked around, noticing a light smokey air still lingering in your apartment.

Your eyes landed on the window before the sudden remembrance of Charm popped into your head. "Oh no."

Running to the window you looked out, just in time to see her familiar fluffy tail disappearing down the sidewalk.

"Charm! You yelled out in panic before rushing from your apartment.

Minho hummed softly to himself as he walked back to his dorm, grocery bags in hand and thoughts bouncing from various things. He looked around him as he got a whiff of smoke 'Smell's like someone burned their lunch.' he thought to himself with a smirk.

Suddenly hearing a drawn out meow from behind him, Minho stopped and turned around, spotting a familiar cat charging towards him.

"Oh, you again!" He said softly as he stopped and crouched down, petting the cat as she began rubbing against his legs. "Did you escape again?" He asked with a smirk, but worry sat in his chest hoping she hadn't gotten too far from her home.

His ears caught on another noise as he heard a panicked yell. Looking up, another moment passed before he heard someone calling out a second time. Suddenly, from around the corner, he watched as you appeared, panic on your face.

As your eyes landed on him and then to the cat, he saw relief wash over your face and he almost smiled.

"Charm!" You called out, exasperation in your tone as you jogged up to him.

Minho stood up, his eyes now glued to you as he took you in.

You were disheveled, obviously from chasing your cat, but you were still attractive. As your eyes met his, he felt his chest tighten a bit as you smiled in greeting, though you held an awkwardness in it as you looked at Minho.

Charm meowed before she ran up to you, rubbing against your legs, you immediately crouched down and picked her up "Why did you do that again?" You asked softly as you held her tight to your chest before looking up and meeting Minho's eyes again.

It was now that Minho realized he had not stopped staring at you. Afraid he might freak you out, he smiled and cleared his throat softly.

"So she does have an owner then."

You smiled and nodded "Yes" you let out a soft laugh "I swear she doesn't do this often, just twice, now, and both were recent."

"Yeah, we've met before." Minho said with a chuckle as he looked at Charm.

"You have?"

He nodded as he met your eyes again, he motioned towards the road you had come from "When I was coming back from the store, just like today, she appeared in the street. I pet her for a while, and even gave her some cat treats, which I hope you don't mind." He added on quickly.

You shook your head and smiled "No, I don't! Though that explains why she didn't eat her dinner." You thought for a minute before you spoke softly "Do you, walk by often, by chance?"

He nodded and you let out a knowing hum "I think she has a crush." You mumbled as you kissed her head before looking at Minho with a light panic in your eyes, which you followed up with an awkward laugh.

Minho smiled as he let out a chuckle, taking a step closer as he reached out and quickly pet Charm's head "You called her Charm?"

You nodded your head "Yeah, 'cause she's my good luck charm, though recently she's testing her luck."

Minho chuckled "And what's your name?"

You met his eyes, and felt a bit surprised before you smiled "Oh, Y/n"

His smile softened and you felt your heart thump "I'm Lee Minho."

You nodded politely "It's nice to met you Lee Minho, thank you for being kind to Charm." You added on softly, your voice suddenly becoming shy.

He tilted his head a bit as he smiled, his eyes going back and forth between you and Charm "No problem."

After a moment of silence you cleared your throat "I should get going, I don't think I locked my door behind me when I ran out." You chuckled.

He continue to smile widely at you as he nodded. You took a step back as you gave him another smile "Bye."

He gave you a slight bow as he let out a soft laugh "Bye."

Turning, you began walking away hugging Charm tightly to your chest, probably a bit more than you intended as she squirmed against you. But your heart was pounding so heavy in your chest you barely noticed.

As you rounded the corner, you looked back, and felt your heart leap when you saw Minho still standing in the same spot, watching you with a soft smile still present on his face..

You quickly looked away, trying not to smile as you walked faster back to your apartment.

Looking down at Charm you spoke in a whisper. "So is he the reason why you keep escaping?" she meowed softly and you nodded "I don't blame you honestly."

When you had first rounded the corner, and saw him crouched down petting Charm, your breath seemed to disappear. You hadn't expected to see someone so gorgeous, not to mention kind. Especially since you were out of breath, probably visibly disheveled, and smelling like smoke.

You clenched your eyes shut, hoping he didn't think you looked crazy. As you made your way back into your apartment, you wondered if you'd see him again. You wanted to see him again, but you hoped next time you wouldn't be in such shambles.

Minho wasn't really sure why he couldn't stop staring at you, or how he couldn't look away as you left. He wasn't sure why he wanted to call out to you as you did, wanting to know more about you.

When you looked back at him as you rounded the corner, and he swore he saw a smile starting to form, he felt his heart clench.

After you disappeared from view, and he finally continued on his way home, he wondered if he would see you again. He knew what street you must live on. So maybe, he could make a few more extra trips to the store this week? Just in case he might see you again.

As you grunted, struggling to open your door, arms full of grocery bags, your eyes moved around your apartment before landing on Charm. She was staring forlornly out of the window, which now had a security screen on it.

Dropping a bag, you cursed under your breath before you not so gently dropped the rest of your bags onto the floor. Suddenly, out of the corner of your eye, a small brown figure darted past.

"Wha-" Looking to see Charm dart down the hall, you almost tripped as you ran after her, slamming your door behind you "Charm!"

You called her in desperation as she made her way down the stairs and towards the street. "What had gotten into you!" You yelled out, though in the back of your mind, behind the panic, was the thought of Minho. Did she see him out the window? Is she looking for him?

As your feet hit the pavement outside, your question was answered as you saw her running up to a familiar figure, who was staring at her with a look of surprise and amusement.

Minho's eyes followed where she had come from, landing on you as you appeared breathless and distraught from the nearby building.

You gestured your arms in bewilderment as you jogged over, Minho couldn't help the giggle that escaped him.

This was the fifth time he had walked down this street since he had met you last week. And every time his eyes scanned the area for Charm, and for you, always wondering how nearby you were, and if he might run into you again.

As you approached him, his eyes scanned over you, you were much more put together than last time, though a bit breathless. As you smiled sheepishly at him his heart leapt in his chest.

Butterflies erupted in your stomach as you approached him "Hello again" You said with a soft breathy laugh.

"Hello." He said with a wide smile, that made your heart jump.

Grabbing Charm and scooping her up into your arms you looked up at your apartment window "She must have seen you walking by, she darted out the door as I was bringing in groceries."

He let out a soft laugh as he looked at Charm who meowed softly. Reaching out to pet her he didn't stop smiling "My existence seems to be causing you trouble." He joked as he met your eyes.

You smiled and shook your head "I don't think I'd call it trouble."

"No?" He asked with a soft tilt of his head, causing your ears to grow hot.

"Maybe...just a added excitement I wasn't expecting?"

He smiled, his own ears growing hot, he hoped his hair was long enough to cover them so you didn't notice.

Shyly looking down at Charm, you smiled softly "I don't know why she decided to grow so attached to you."

"Cats tend to like me. I have three myself."

"Oh?" You showed obvious curiosity at this, which made his heart warm.

He nodded "They live with my parents though."

"Oh." You nodded in understanding, you had only recently found a place to live that allowed you to have cats. "Maybe that's why she likes you, she knows she can trust you. But, she seems to have developed separation anxiety." You added on jokingly.

Minho grinned, speaking before he really though about it "Maybe we should fix that huh?"

Your eyes darted up to his, as he smiled with a raise of his brow. His heart was pounding but he was hiding his nervousness.

"Maybe you could bring her out every once and a while for a visit? Maybe she wont keep escaping."

Your heart was pounding in your chest at the idea. You smiled, hoping your face wasn't flushing too much. "Or, you could come in and visit her yourself on occasion."

You were surprised at yourself for suggesting it, but as Minho's face turned from surprise to a bright smile you felt a bit of relief.

"That works too." He said softly, his eyes staring into yours.

He took a small step closer and you felt your breath catch. He started to pet Charm before he spoke with an added shyness to his own voice.

"She really is a good luck charm isn't she?"

"How do you mean?" You asked curiously, your voice soft.

His eyes slowly left Charm and met yours, there was a softness in his gaze that could have made you swoon had you less control over yourself.

"I was hoping I'd see you again. And here you are. Because of her."

You were speechless for a moment, before you spoke softly. "You wanted to see me again?"

He nodded, a small smile on his face. Spotting redness in his ears, you realized he was feeling as effected as you were. You couldn't help but smile.

"I was hoping the same." You admitted with a quiet voice, that only made Minho's smile widen as he stared at you with starry eyes.

Charm looked between the two of you, before letting out a small meow. You couldn't help but wonder, maybe this was her plan all along.

xx End xx

I think I might write a part two to this soon, let me know what you think, or if that is something you might be interested in~

This blog is still growing so reblogs would be super appreciated!~ <3

Taglist: @bubblesreplies, @halesandy, @why-am-i-sad

The alternative

Brother's best friend changbin x reader. Fluff and slight angst. (Han is the brother).

Based on my interpretation of The Alternative by Lyn Lapid (if u can, play it after the •••)

You've diligently chased the idea of being with Changbin out of your mind. That is until he picks you up from a bad date, making your steadfast resolve unravel all around you.

skz song series masterlist

"Yn?" Changbin’s voice echoes clearly through the phone, and you startle, leaning away to check if you mistakenly dialed the wrong person. But there it is- Han's contact name illuminating your screen, confirming your intended call.

"Changbin? Where is Han?" you ask hesitantly, confused as to why your brother did not pick up his phone.

"He left his phone at home. I wasn't going to answer but I saw five missed calls from you, so I figured something might be wrong. Are you okay?" he asks, his voice softening at the last question.

His concern tugs at your heart, causing you to bite your lower lip forcefully. You've been sitting across from your date for the past two hours, and yet Changbin managed to pay more attention to you in the span of five seconds. 

"I'm okay, don't worry about it," you reassure, trying your best to sound composed.

"Did you need something?"

"I just... I'm on a date right now and I wanted Han to come pick me up. But it's okay."

"Did they do something to you?" he asks, his voice carrying an edge to it that hadn't been present moments ago.

"No!" you quickly reassure. "I just... I don't know, it feels off but it's okay. I'm sorry for bothering you." The practiced apology rolls off your tongue effortlessly, without you having to think about uttering it.

You're accustomed to shrinking yourself, trying your hardest not take up space with your feelings. It has become second nature to you to bury your problems in a dusty box at the back of your mind, as soon as they threaten to affect those around you.

"Where are you?" he asks as you hear shuffling from his end, "I'm coming to pick you up."

"You don't have to," you murmur, regret already welling up inside you. You should've stopped calling your brother when he didn't pick up the first time.

"You are uncomfortable. That's reason enough for me."

You attempt to contradict him, but the words dissolve in your mouth, swallowed back down your throat. There's something about Changbin's unwavering voice that makes you pause. You don't have the strength to contradict him.

"Okay, thank you," you exhale a ragged breath in relief. "I'll text you the address."

You hang up, leaving the bathroom you were hiding in and sitting in front of your date once again. They resume talking, but you tune them out, your thoughts solely revolving around Changbin- the way the planets rotate unwaveringly around the sun. His concern made a pleasing warmth seep through your heart, like a sun ray piercing through clouds after a gloomy day.

You dig your fingers into your palm, desperately trying to banish thoughts of him- just as you’ve been doing for the past few months.

You met Changbin before you knew he was your brother’s best friend. In the campus café, where he almost spilled his drink on you. You thought he was adorable, apologizing profusely to you, a faint pink hue tinting his cheeks. And then he bought you a cookie, three to be exact, because he didn’t know which flavor you’d prefer. A token of his remorse as he explained to you. He was a year older, and you found talking to him as natural as being with yourself.

But for some reason, your brain didn’t register that this was the Changbin your brother told you about. Until you’ve visited Han’s dorm for the first time and there he was, opening the door for you. Changbin was never yours to begin with, a reminder you continually admonish yourself with, but you still felt as if you lost him that day.

You knew it wouldn't be wrong, per se, to date him. But the potential confrontations that would unfold from it made you recoil into your hiding. Loving Changbin holds within it numerous uncertainties, and you cannot venture into the unknown, regardless of how much you yearn for it. For him.

“Yn!” a loud voice startles you, and you snap your head towards the entrance of the restaurant where you find Changbin. He’s clad in grey sweatpants and a snug black t-shirt, standing out like a sore thumb in the high-end restaurant. He didn't take the time to change, you realize, his sole focus on reaching you as quickly as possible.

"We have to go!" he says, as soon as he's in front of your table, and your date glances at you curiously.

"You do?" they ask and you chuckle nervously. "We do?" You didn’t think of an excuse as to why you needed to leave so suddenly, and you hoped Changbin did.

"Yes, come on," he urges, outstretching his hand toward you. "There is an emergency… You know, with Han, very urgent."

"Who's this? And who's Han?" 

"I already told you who Han is," you roll your eyes, grabbing Changbin’s hand and rising from your seat. "Maybe if you stopped talking about yourself for a second then you'd remember."

Changbin places a couple of bills on the table, a polite smile on his face. "For the dinner", he says, before pulling you outside with him.

"What was that?" you chuckle as soon as you're out. Changbin doesn't let go of your hand as you walk to his car, and you can't find it in you to drop it. 

"What?" he giggles, "did you not like my acting skills?"

"Did you have to shout my name from across the restaurant?" you playfully punch his shoulder and he feigns a wince.

"I had to be convincing," he nods solemnly, opening the door for you. His hand rests on the top of the car, ensuring you don't bump your head while getting in.

"Here," Changbin hands you a pair of slippers from the backseat, and you furrow your brows in confusion. "I assumed you'd be wearing heels and your feet are probably tired, so I brought you this," he explains, and you are suddenly thankful for the dim lighting in the car that's hiding your crimson blush. 

"So, tell me, what did they do? Do I need to beat them up?" Changbin asks once more and you groan, leaning your head against the car window. 

"They're so... pretentious. The only thing they care about is themselves, their career and their achievements. They even tried to downplay mine so they'd feel better about themselves."

"It's their loss honestly, for wasting a date with someone like you." 

"You're the only one who thinks so," you smile sadly, trailing your fingers across your knee. 

"What do you mean?" he asks, turning his body around to give you his undivided attention. 

"This is my fourth bad date in a row. I think I'm just destined for horrible relationships," you try to joke, but it did weigh heavily on you. Was there something wrong in you that prompted everyone to treat you so lowly?

"You are very smart and witty and interesting. I like talking to you, especially about things you are passionate about. It's their loss for not seeing it. Doesn't mean you are any less incredible," he says, his voice filled with genuine conviction.

A surge of emotion pulses through you, your heart beating wildly in your chest like a bird fluttering its wing to break free from its cage. You've always thought Changbin was all these things as well, but you never knew he held you with the same regard.

"Thank you," you beam at him, "for this and for coming to pick me up."

"Don’t mention it," he responds with a warm smile before sudden mischief dances in his eyes. "You know what? We should go on a date right now."

"What? What are you talking about?"

"A fake date," he clarifies and your heart chips a little more at your foolish hope. "So you'd see how well you deserve to be treated."

"You don't have to do that," you shake your head. 'You shouldn't do that', you wanted to add, 'it’s hard enough to forget about you'.

"I want to," he insists, his assurance evident in his smile. He leans in, reaching over to buckle your seatbelt, bringing his face mere inches from yours. His cologne envelops you, trapping you in a web carefully woven by him. It was unfair- for him to smell this nice and not be yours.

"You look pretty," he compliments, his penetrating gaze locked with yours as the seatbelt finally clicks into place.

"Is this how you start all your dates," you chuckle, in an attempt to calm your racing heart.

"No, I'm just saying the truth," he replies simply, starting the car and resting his hand on the back of your headrest.

"So, what are you craving?" he asks, and you sigh in defeat.

"Can we have fried chicken?" 

"Of course, we can," he replies with a smile, shifting the car into reverse and leaving the parking lot.

•••••••••••

You hoped your time with Changbin would be horrible, you wished you’d feel bored or uncomfortable, just so it’d cement the idea that he wasn’t the one for you. But unsurprisingly, you had an amazing time. Your stomach ached from laughing so hard throughout the night, and there was a new found lightness in your steps as you walked around a picturesque garden.

You knew that you will revisit this night countless times, that you’d sift through every detail- every time your eyes met and every time you made him smile. That it’d keep you warm on cold nights when you’re all alone.

"Here," Changbin says, handing you a plucked rose. "You deserve a bouquet but I didn’t plan on this, I’m sorry," he smiles sheepishly and you giggle, taking it out of his hands.

"Thank you," you grin happily, before taking a step forward toward him. There, you tuck the rose behind his ear, smoothing down his hair in the process.

"I’m blushing, aren’t I?" he chuckles, bringing a hand to his flushed cheeks and you gleefully nod.

"You’re matching the rose," you point out and he shrugs happily. "Pink is my color."

You admired how Changbin didn’t shy away from his emotions, embracing them without reservation. It made you feel secure, in the sense where you’d never have to second guess his words and their truthfulness.

Changbin takes out his phone to play a soft melody, before putting it in his back pocket.

"Let's dance."

"Changbin..." you trail off. It feels bittersweet to get a taste of what you could have, of what you two could be. He'll move on, surely, going on real dates while you'd still be stuck on the way he makes you feel.

"It's part of the date package, come on." 

You sigh, before grabbing his hand in yours. They fit so naturally together, and you think you can easily commit the sensation to memory- the coldness of his palm and the callouses on his finger pads. With a few more holds, you're certain you could recognize his touch among a thousand others.

Changbin raises your free hand and places it on his shoulder, before holding your waist gently, swaying you from left to right.

Being with him felt like pressing on a blueish bruise, a pleasurable pain you would willingly endure to have him by your side. You're already in his arms, you told yourself. Maybe you should tune out the thoughts in your head berating you, and finally follow what your heart wants.

You suck in a deep breath, before tentatively leaning your head on his chest. He immediately brings his hand to your hair, smoothing it down gently. His chest is broad, serving as a shield for the delicate emotions flowing within him. Because Changbin is gentle with everything he does and everyone he meets. And you'd settle for this, for being his fake date if it meant experiencing his gentleness for the rest of your life.

"Can I tell you something?" you say after a while.

"Sure."

"I think this is the nicest date I've ever been on. I wish all of them were like this."

"They could be if you want to."

"What do you mean?"

"I've always liked you, yn. From the moment I’ve met you,” he confesses easily, and his words feel like the hands of an expert violinist, tugging at your vulnerable heartstrings.

He likes you, you aren't alone in this feeling, and for a second, raw happiness courses through you at this thought. But it's fleeting, like the sugar rush you'd get when you eat too much sweets. And so it naturally wears off, as the consequences of his words dawn on you.

"Changbin, we shouldn't," you shake your head vehemently and he frowns. "Why?"

"Because you're my brother's best friend." The excuse streams from your mouth instantly.

"But I'm still Changbin. Your Changbin if you'll have me," he adds softly.

"Han will find it weird, and if we don't work out then your friendship with him will become strained and-"

"Why are you thinking about everyone but yourself?" He interrupts. "Don’t you want this?" 

A few silent beats pass by, and Changbin doesn't stop swaying you around, his gentle place lulling your heart to calmness, clearing the foggy thoughts in your mind.

"I do," you finally admit, and a smile lightens up his face instantly. It's so bright that it makes you second-guess the words you're about to say. "But I don't want to risk our friendship too." 

"Love is a risk, I understand, I agree. But what's the alternative, yn? if it's not having you at all then I'd risk it," he drops your waist, his hands cradling your face tenderly. "You are worth the risk to me." 

You’ve stopped dancing, the music long forgotten by you. "You really think so?"

"I know so." 

"What if we things don't workout?"

"What if they do, hm? we can never really know until we try. And i want to try with you. Please, give us a chance?" he smiles at you, his vulnerability on full display. He's offering you his heart on a silver platter, not caring if you'll safely guard it or pierce it through, as long as it's yours.

You gaze into his warm brown eyes, before glancing at his tousled hair and the rose tucked behind his ear. And your fear doesn't matter anymore, not in the face of the man in front of you.

"You have amazing convincing skills. Have you ever considered being a diplomat?" you tease and his eyes widen slightly. "Is this a yes? are you saying yes?"

"I am," you giggle, an uncontrollable smile drawn on your lips. "And... I've always liked you too. I think Han might've suspected it because whenever I brought you up, he glared at me," you confess with a laugh, as Changbin presses a soft kiss on your wrist. Right where your pulse is. Beating wildly for him. 

"He’ll have to deal with it. Now tell me, is tomorrow at 6 pm good for you?"

"What for?" you giggle, as he waltzes you around once more, a cheeky smile adorning his face.

"Our first real date, of course.”

---

GHOST OF YOU (PT.1) | lee minho x fem ! reader

cursing & smut & slight angst & fluff & dad ! minho & mom ! reader & more under the cut !! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

minho is not a man who lives his life looking backward. he doesn't want to regret a moment of his life. he knows he can't change the past. and in most aspects, he would never want to. minho's greatest joy in his life is his daughter. minho's only regret is her mother.

there are so many things you wish you could change about the past. in many ways, you've spent a lot of time looking back instead of looking forward. the one thing you would never change is having your son.

minho--a man so focused on moving forward he refuses to look back. you--someone so focused on the past that you can't bring yourself to look forward. both of you have had your fair share of past hurts. but maybe together, the future will be brighter than it has been for a long time.

SEE PART TWO HERE !!! // read on AO3

want more of this story ? see texts w dad ! minho here ! (coming soon)

for better visualization, find the pinterest board here & spotify playlist here !

GENERAL WARNINGS | mentions of death (no major characters), mentions of reader being previously married, mentions of food / eating, reader gets drunk at one point, slow burn, sexual tension (?), sweet pet names, reader has a son, SWEARING, reader wears minho's shirt at one point, dad minho (please let me know if there is anything else)

SMUT WARNINGS | (NO SMUT IN PART ONE, THESE ARE FOR PART TWO) oral (m receiving), penetrative (p in v) sex, unprotected (consensual) sex (reader mentions she's on birth control & both state they are clean BUT please practice safe sex irl), a lot of praise, minho reassures yn of insecurities, fingering (f receiving), sweet aftercare (please let me know if there is anything else)

WORD COUNT | 15.5k , approx. 1hr 5min read

NOTES | at long last, the first part of dad minho is OUT <33 thank you to everyone for your support and patience <3 i hope you'll enjoy this <3 keep ur eyes out for part two coming in a couple of hours !!

dedicated to all the people who have felt like the past is too much to carry alone. and also to everyone who let me share snippets of this before it was finished only to get as giddy about it as i am. this is for anyone who needs a little extra comfort in a hard place and for anyone who has felt heartbreak so big you worried you’d never come back from it. so actually, what i mean to say, is this is dedicated to all of you. enjoy ♡ 

one

There weren’t many things that Minho regretted in his life. 

Minho had always believed in leading a life lived with no regrets—after all, you can’t change the past once it’s happened, so why would he care about it? He did the things he wanted to, wore what he wanted, said what he pleased, and laughed and enjoyed himself often. There weren’t many things that Minho regretted in his life. But there was one.

“Dad!” Jiyeon whined as Minho carefully tied her shoes. “Hurry! We’re going to be late for class!” 

No, Minho didn’t regret having his daughter. She was the greatest joy of his life. She was his biggest pride. Minho had never loved anyone the way he loved Jiyeon. What Minho regretted was her mother. 

“I know, I know. I’m hurrying. Just want to make sure your shoes are tied properly. Can’t have you tripping over your feet today.” 

Minho thought his daughter was the most beautiful little girl in the world, but sometimes, she looked so much like her mother that it hurt. He could never be upset with Jiyeon for this, of course. It wasn’t her fault at all that her mother’s genetics had been strong. And most of the time, he hardly noticed. But sometimes Jiyeon would make a face that was so reminiscent of the woman he’d once known… It just made his heart ache a little. 

“Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!” Jiyeon tugged on Minho’s fingers as he slipped into his own shoes, pulling him toward the front door of their apartment. 

Minho laughed a little as he followed her. “Alright, alright, we’re going.” 

Jiyeon’s mother had left when Jiyeon was barely six months old. Or more like… Minho had kicked her out. Sometimes he wondered if that was a big mistake. He wondered if he was really cut out to handle raising a child, especially on his own. He wondered if he was too hasty in his decision. Jiyeon was fine without her mom now, but would she always be?

“Dad, why are you being so quiet?” Jiyeon looked up at Minho as she walked beside him, her tiny hand in his. “You usually talk the whole way to class.” 

He shook his head, smiling down at his daughter. If only she knew just how troubled his mind was. “It’s nothing. Just thinking about the day ahead of us, sweetheart.” 

“Oh. Well, you do have that new class you’re teaching today, right? Is that what you’re thinking about?” 

“Yeah,” he lied, looking ahead of him and clenching his jaw as he breathed deeply. “Yeah, that’s what I’m thinking about.” 

“Haru, are you almost ready to go?” You called down the hall towards your son’s room. He had his first dance class today and had been so excited all week. Now that you were about to leave for the class, though, he seemed to be dragging his feet. 

“Yeah, one minute!” 

At the sound of your son’s voice, you relaxed. He didn’t sound sad or upset, he just sounded rushed. Maybe he just had first-day jitters. You finished packing his backpack with snacks, his water bottle, and anything else you felt like he might need. 

The class you’d signed him up for was an intensive summer course for beginners and it was more of a dance camp or workshop. It would last about seven weeks, and the students would spend four hours a day for four days a week learning the basics of dancing as well as a few routines. It was the perfect way to keep your son occupied while you were at work. 

You could have always left him with a babysitter, but you weren’t sure if you could find someone you trusted. At least this way you knew your son would be doing something fun and active. 

“Mom, do you think this is okay to dance in?” Haru came running out of his room in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. It didn’t look any different than the other three outfits he’d tried on before that, honestly, but you still nodded and grinned at him. 

“It looks perfect, Haru, but if we don’t leave now, we’ll be late. Go put your shoes on, okay? I’ve got your backpack all ready for today.” 

Haru nodded and skipped toward the front entryway of your apartment where his shoes were stored. He sat on the floor and pulled on his tennis shoes. You double checked his bag had a different pair of shoes—you’d read online that the students were asked to bring fresh tennis shoes or dance shoes that would be reserved just for dancing. Apparently “street shoes” would leave a lot of scuffs and marks on the (expensive) floor of the dance studio. 

“Are you excited for your first day of dance classes?” You asked as you ushered him out of your apartment, making sure you had all of your things before locking the door behind you. 

He grabbed your hand and followed you out of the apartment building. “Yeah! I’m really excited! Just wait, Mom, I’m going to be, like, a pro dancer when I finish the class!”

“Of course you are, baby,” you smiled and squeezed his hand in yours. “You can do anything you put your mind to.” 

It didn’t take long for you to arrive at the dance studio—you’d purposefully chosen one that was close to your apartment. When you stepped into the studio, you were immediately struck with how nice it was. Too nice, it felt, for the price you would be paying for your son’s class. Everything was shiny and clean, the decorations were minimal and subtle but still stood out. And what caught your eye the most were the rows of trophies around the room. 

That was another reason you’d chosen this studio. If your son ever decided he wanted to compete in dancing, he would be on a great competition team. This studio was renowned for doing exceptionally well in competitions while also having compassionate coaches. 

You got Haru signed in at the front desk, and the receptionist assured you that in the future, he wouldn’t need to check in, he could just go into his class. You thanked her and then pulled Haru off to the side. “How are you feeling?” 

“Excited! I’ll be fine, Mom, don’t worry about me!” Haru pushed at you a little, seemingly embarrassed by how emotional you were getting over him. 

So you nodded and stood. “You’re right. You’ll be fine. More than fine. You’ll do great. Just have fun, okay? I’ll be back in a few hours to pick you up.” 

Haru hugged you and waved goodbye before changing his shoes and running into the first dance studio where his classes would be taking place. You watched him go before turning to clarify with the receptionist what time his class ended. Once you were certain he was fine and everything was sorted out, you left to go to work. 

On your walk to your office, you allowed your mind to wander. 

There were a lot of times you wished you could change the past. 

There were so many things you would have done differently if you could. You wouldn’t have gotten married so young. You would’ve taken more time to travel and enjoy your youth. You would’ve spent more time with the people you loved. And you would’ve spent less time being angry. There were a lot of times you wished you could change the past. But there was one thing, you would never even dream of changing. 

Having Haru. You’d been young when you had him, sure, but you loved him more than anything. He made all of the hard days easier, made all of the long hours spent working worth it. He was your motivation, your reason for being. Haru was everything to you. 

So you would never wish you could change the fact that you’d gotten pregnant young. You would never change having Haru. 

You were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn’t notice there was someone riding their bike right in your immediate path. At least, not until someone was tugging you out of the way. 

“Watch out!” 

You blinked in surprise, pulled from your spiraling thoughts. You looked at the man who had one hand wrapped around your bicep. His eyes held a concern you hadn’t seen in a long time. And when you looked in his eyes, really looked, your heart stuttered in your chest. You pulled yourself away hastily, fixing your clothes and hoping the embarrassment didn’t show on your face. “Oh, s-sorry. And thank you.” 

You turned to leave before he could say anything to you. You felt warm all over. You couldn’t help thinking about the man’s eyes. About his caring expression. And it made you feel silly. You would never see him again. You didn’t even know his name. Why was he affecting you this much?

Minho watched as you left, his hand still holding Jiyeon’s tightly. Something about you was so intriguing. Jiyeon’s small hand pulling on his again pulled him from his distracted thoughts. He looked down at her, smiling sheepishly and continuing to walk with her to the dance studio. 

“That lady was clumsy, wasn’t she dad,” Jiyeon giggled. “She wasn’t even watching where she was going.” 

Minho laughed and nodded, “Yeah. She was kind of clumsy.”

The receptionist greeted him warmly when he ushered Jiyeon into the studio, sending her to class while he checked in at the front desk. “Good morning Soomin. How has everything been this morning?” 

“All good here! We got the new class all set up and everyone’s been checked in. Jana had me cancel her classes for today since she’s not feeling well, so it looks like it’ll just be your classes today!”

“Perfect,” Minho smiled at Soomin and sat on the corner bench to change his own shoes. “Thanks Soomin.” 

Minho stood and waved at Soomin cheerfully before walking into the studio. He couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face at the sight of the studio full of small children. He hadn’t realized how much he loved kids until Jiyeon was born. Sure, he’d taught dance classes to children in the past, but he’d never harbored such a fondness for them until after he had a daughter of his own. 

“Good morning,” Minho greeted them, standing at the front of the room. “Let’s get started with some stretches and then we’ll do an activity to get to know one another before we start dancing!”

“So, you got Haru dropped off at his first dance lesson today?” Your coworker, and best friend, Ryujin asked, glancing at you as you sank into your desk chair. Your office was right across the hall from hers, so she always saw when you got in and often came to talk to (pester) you at your desk. Everyone in the office knew you were friends, but since you always finished your work on time, no one had any issues with you gossiping from time to time. 

You nodded as you unpacked your bag. You knew you’d have to pick Haru up in just a few hours, but you were determined to get as much done before then as you could. “Yeah. He seems really excited about it. I just hope the dance class is as good as the reviews say. I would hate for him to get discouraged because of a shitty teacher or feel like he’s not learning anything.” 

“Makes sense.” Ryujin agreed as she leaned against the door frame of your office. “What studio did you take him to again?” 

“5-STAR. Fitting, seeing as pretty much all the reviews on their website were five stars. Do you think they paid people to leave all those five star reviews?” You turned your desktop computer on, sighing as you began overthinking again. 

Ryujin shook her head, laughing a little at your downward spiral. “Nah, I’ve heard good things about 5-STAR. I actually danced with one of their teachers growing up. Lee Minho. He’s a phenomenal dancer. Didn’t realize he liked kids though.” 

Ryujin had grown up dancing and had even had the opportunity to dance professionally, but she’d turned it down to follow her dreams of becoming an architect alongside you. She insisted that dancing was just a hobby and she was afraid she’d lose her passion for dancing if she made it her entire career. She didn’t seem to regret her decision, thankfully, and she even led a women’s beginner dance class on the weekends in her spare time. 

“Oh, I didn’t realize you knew Lee Minho. He’s the instructor teaching Haru’s class and summer workshop.” 

“Really?” Ryujin’s eyes widened. “Haru's definitely in good hands. Like I said, Minho is a great dancer. He was offered a chance to dance professionally too. He even did for a while. But then… ah, that’s not my story to tell, I suppose. I should get back to work.” 

Ryujin didn’t say anything else before turning quickly and leaving your office, closing the door softly behind her to give you some privacy and peace to work. You thought for a moment about what she could have meant. But then, what? You shrugged it off. The reason your son’s dance instructor hadn’t continued his professional career was the least of your worries at the moment. You had a project to get done. 

“And, it looks like we’re finished for the day!” Minho clapped his hands together after watching the kids work on the small, easy routine he’d just taught them. Truthfully, he had students with a lot of potential in his class. And of course, a few who may take more time to master the art of dancing. But one boy in particular struck him as someone with a natural talent for dance. Haru. Maybe he’d have to speak with his parents before the end of the summer workshop in a few weeks. 

Minho watched the young kids scramble to get water and finish the last of their snacks while they waited for their parents to arrive. Slowly, parents trickled in, thanking him for teaching their children before herding them out. Time passed and then there was only Jiyeon left and one other student. 

“I’m so sorry!” You panted, peeking into the studio, careful not to step onto the dance floor with your shoes, remembering what the website had said about street shoes. “I was at work and lost track of the time. Haru, sweetheart, are you ready to go?” 

Minho’s eyes widened when he looked at you. You were the woman from earlier that morning. Before he could say anything Jiyeon skipped over to you, voice cheerful as she spoke. “Hey, you’re that lady from this morning! My dad pulled you out of the way of a bicycle guy on the sidewalk! Are you Haru’s mom? You’re really pretty. Haru is nice. And he’s a good dancer. And—”

“Alright, Jiyeon, that’s enough.” Minho interjected, smiling at you apologetically. “We’d better let the nice lady get back to work.” 

“O-oh, I didn’t even realize you were… Um, thank you again for pulling me out of the way.”

He shook his head, shrugging it off. “It’s no problem, really. Although, to address something else Jiyeon said… Haru really does show great potential as a dancer. Obviously, it’s only the first class, but he picks up on routines very well, his form is good, and his movement is great. I’m looking forward to the rest of the class with him.” 

“Really?” Your eyes lit up. Minho took a mental note. “That makes me so glad to hear. He was really excited to start dance classes and I had hoped he would do well so he wouldn’t feel discouraged at all. I think if this summer workshop goes well I want to get him enrolled in some other, more long-term, classes. If that’s what he wants, of course.”

“I think that would be a great idea.” 

“Ah, by the way… I wanted to ask,” you hesitated before continuing, looking away sheepishly. “Did you maybe dance with a woman named Shin Ryujin at one point?” 

Minho looked surprised but then he nodded. “Yeah. We danced together for a while. Why do you ask?” 

“Ryujin’s been my best friend since I was eleven,” you admitted, grinning a little. 

“No shit?” Minho whispered, careful not to let either of the children hear. “Damn, how’s she doing? I didn’t really keep in touch with her after we both stopped dancing together.”

“She’s good! She said you used to dance professionally. Honestly, I’m honored that Haru can learn from you. Ryujin said you’re an incredible dancer.” 

Minho shook his head again, crossing his arms as if closing himself off would chase away his embarrassment. “Ah, she’s giving me too much credit. I’m glad she’s doing well.” 

“If you want, I could bring her by tomorrow when I drop Haru off for class? Maybe you two could reconnect.” 

You weren’t sure why you were trying to push your best friend and your son’s dance instructor together. Ryujin was happy on her own, not interested in relationships, and you didn’t even know Minho. But maybe you actually did know why you were trying to play cupid. You were trying to force away the butterflies in your stomach, the racing of your heart. 

“That would be great, actually! I’d love to talk to her again.” Minho uncrossed his arms and instead pushed them into the pockets of his sweatpants. “And I’d love to talk to you some more. J-just about… Haru and dancing and… maybe get to know you a bit?” 

Oh you were so fucked. 

“Yeah! Uh, yeah. I’d like that. I have to get back to work now, but I’ll see you tomorrow morning! When I drop Haru off for class. A-and I’ll bring Ryujin!” 

Minho offered another kind smile as you gathered your son’s things and led him to the front door of the studio. “Yeah. See you tomorrow morning.” 

So, so fucked.

two

You woke in the middle of the night, heart racing and covered in a cold sweat. Another dream. Always the same one. Always about him. You missed him. But you knew you would always miss him, at least a little bit. 

You brought your knees to your chest, laying your head against them and trying to calm your heart rate. You took a deep breath, willing yourself not to cry. It had been almost four years since everything happened, you couldn’t understand why you still had nightmares about him. 

You stood slowly on shaking legs, making your way quietly down the hall to your son’s bedroom to check on him. You peeked through the crack in the door, feeling your heart calm at the sight of him sleeping peacefully. You smiled a little to yourself as you watched him. You saw so much of his father in him. 

With a sigh, you turned and made your way to the kitchen to get a glass of water before trying to sleep again. As you filled your cup with water, you let your mind wander to a man you had known once. A man you had called your husband once. 

You could see his kind eyes when you closed your own. Could see his gentle smile when you dreamed. Could feel his arms around you when you laid in bed alone at night. Your heart panged painfully in your chest at the memory of him. You could still picture him dancing around your living room, a newborn Haru in his arms. You could still hear his laughter echoing in the halls of your apartment when you were quiet. 

Would there ever be a day when you didn’t think of him? Didn’t miss him? Would you ever be able to live without seeing the ghost of him everywhere—traces of him in everything you did? You weren’t sure you wanted that, if you were being honest. You didn’t want to forget.

You checked the time on the stove. 3:26 a.m. You sighed again and finished your water, placing your empty cup in the dishwasher before going back to your bedroom to try to sleep. You stared at the ceiling in the dark, thoughts of your past lover still running through your mind. 

“Mom?” The sound of your son’s voice from down the hall pulled you away from your reverie and you were quick to get up. 

You opened the door to his room fully, quickly sitting on the edge of his bed beside him. “What’s wrong, baby? Why are you awake?” 

“Had a nightmare,” he mumbled, sniffling sadly. “Mom, will you tell me about Dad again?” 

Your heart clenched. It seemed you were both thinking of him tonight. You smiled at your son, brushing the hair off of his forehead and nodding. “Yeah. I’ll tell you about Dad.” 

Haru closed his eyes, settling into his covers again as you began to tell him about the man he’d never had a chance to really meet. About the man who loved him more than words could express. 

You told Haru about all the times your husband had made you laugh. You told him about your adventures together, about your wedding, about the first day you’d lived in your new apartment. You told Haru about how much his father had loved him. How much he would have wanted to be there with you both if he could be. If it was possible. 

When Haru fell asleep, you kissed him on the forehead and trudged back to your room, heart heavy and mind cloudy with the thought and memory of your past lover. 

Sleep didn’t come easy, and by the time you’d fallen asleep again, your alarm was going off to wake you up. You woke Haru up as well and the two of you got ready quickly so you could get him to his dance class on time. Ryujin texted you to let you know she was on her way to your apartment with coffee.

The two of you met Ryujin downstairs. She handed you the drink she’d gotten you and then reached down to ruffle Haru’s hair. “Hey bud. Excited for your second day of dance?” 

“Yeah! Yesterday was so fun! And Mr. Minho says that I’m a natural!”

“Of course you are,” Ryujin gasped dramatically, smiling at your son. “I’ve been dancing for you since you were in the womb! You must have subconsciously picked up on it.” 

Haru nodded and continued to talk with Ryujin while you walked. You watched them, smiling a little to yourself. It always made you happy to see the joy on Haru’s face when he talked to Ryujin. 

When you walked into the studio, Minho was leaning against the front desk, talking to Soomin, the receptionist. He looked over at you, Ryujin, and Haru when the bell above the door jingled. The gentle look he gave you was enough to make you feel like you were melting into a puddle. And the grin he gave to Ryujin when he noticed her standing next to you made your legs weak. You wished he would grin at you like that. 

“Ryujin!” He cheered, leaving Soomin and giving Ryujin a hug. “Oh my god, it’s been so long. How are you?” 

Ryujin laughed and hugged him back. “I’m really good. Yn and I work together as architects and I teach a beginner women’s dance class on the weekends.” 

“And what about you and Yeji? Are you guys still together.”

“No,” Ryujin shook her head, but the smile didn’t leave her face. “We broke up a while ago. A mutual agreement. We’re still friends though.”

You stood there awkwardly as the two old friends caught up. You thought about maybe talking to Haru and helping him change his shoes, but you had to remind yourself he was already four years old and could take care of himself in this regard. He didn’t need your help like he once did. And you couldn’t only talk to toddlers. 

“Yn?” 

You realized Ryujin was talking to you, both her and Minho looking at you expectantly. You felt warm and you looked down in embarrassment. “Sorry, what did you say?”

“Minho asked if you would want to get together at the park this weekend. Him and his daughter, you and Haru, and me. And then I could host dinner at my apartment for all of us.”

“O-oh.” You looked from Ryujin to Minho. His eyes were kind, as always. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to get to know him just a little bit. “Yeah, sure. That sounds nice. I’m sure Haru would enjoy spending time with someone his age anyway.” 

Minho nodded, “Then it’s settled. We’ll meet on Saturday. Around 2:00 p.m.? And afterwards we’ll all go to Ryujin’s for dinner.” 

“Perfect!” Ryujin agreed, clapping her hands together happily. “Well, yn and I will get out of your hair now. We’d better get to work anyway. Yn will be back in a few hours to get Haru.” 

“Yeah. I’ll make sure to be punctual this time.” 

Minho waved it off and laughed a little. “Don’t worry about it. I don’t have a class right after theirs anyway, so there’s no need to rush.”

“I’ll be on time anyway.” 

“I’ll look forward to seeing you, then.” Minho grinned at you, the same grin he’d shown Ryujin when he saw her. 

You grinned back. 

“Do you like Minho?” Ryujin asked when you were halfway to your office from the dance studio. 

“I don’t even know him.” 

“Yeah, but…” She hesitated but then shrugged and continued anyway. “Do you think you could like him? Do you like what you know of him so far?”

“I guess.” You felt slightly embarrassed that she was able to see through you so easily. Then again, you’d been friends since you were eleven. There wasn’t much about you she didn’t know about, not much she couldn’t read.

She nodded in affirmation, humming a little to herself. “He’s a good guy.” 

“I can tell.” 

“I just mean,” she sighed, stopping on the sidewalk and making you stop with her. “If something happens… if you develop feelings for each other, you shouldn’t feel guilty. You deserve to be happy as much as anyone. Don’t sabotage a good thing for yourself.”

You looked at her, blinking slowly. You knew exactly what she was talking about. You knew. You wished you didn’t. You wished there wasn’t that voice in your head that told you to be guilty even thinking about something coming out of getting to know Minho. You wished you believed her, wished you could follow her advice.

You didn’t say any of that. You just nodded. “Yeah. You’re right.” 

Minho would be lying if he said he wasn’t attracted to you. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t even a little bit interested in you. But he’d also be lying if he said he didn’t feel guilty for thinking about trying out a relationship. Not because of you, just in general. Because he was so much more than just a man. He was a father. 

And more than that, he was scared. He didn’t have the best relationship track record, honestly, and he was so terrified of getting hurt again. Of Jiyeon getting hurt. He couldn’t do that to her. And he wasn’t sure he could go through another bad relationship either. 

He tried to put his thoughts behind him when class started, tried to focus on the kids and on dancing and teaching. He thought he was doing a decent job of masking his thoughts and emotions, actually. Until his daughter tugged on the bottom of his shirt. 

“Dad, it’s time for our water break now. We should take a pause.” 

Minho blinked a couple of times and nodded in agreement. “Yeah. You’re right, thank you Jiyeon. I got distracted. Everyone, let’s take a five minute water break!”

Minho sighed as the kids scattered to drink water. He took a drink from his own bottle, trying desperately to clear his mind. He couldn’t believe he was getting so worked up over the thought of a relationship—he’d been fine the past four years, so why were these feelings being stirred up now? 

Minho looked over at Jiyeon. She was giggling beside Haru who had his chest puffed out proudly since he’d made her laugh. Minho couldn’t help the smile that spread over his face at the sight. He couldn’t lie, seeing Jiyeon getting along so well with the other kids made him wish, just a little bit, that Jiyeon had a sibling. 

He’d been an only child growing up, but he’d found brothers in his seven best friends so he’d never truly been alone. But Jiyeon… she didn’t really have anyone other than the friends she made in dance class who came and went often, never sticking around for very long. His heart ached a little at the thought that she might be secretly feeling lonely.

“Okay, water break is up! Let’s finish up the last of this routine before class ends!”

three

Before you knew it, it was Saturday. 

Haru had been bouncing off the walls all day. He had been over the moon when you told him you’d be meeting up with Minho, Jiyeon, and Ryujin at the park that afternoon. He’d quickly gotten close to Minho’s daughter during their dance classes, and honestly, the sight of them giggling together as they put their shoes on had warmed your heart. 

“Mom, I’m so excited to see Jiyeon!” He cheered to you as you helped him put his shoes on and get ready to go to the park.

You smiled gently at him, “Yeah? You guys are pretty close now, aren’t you?”

“Jiyeon is my best friend!”

You were honestly relieved he’d found friends through the dance class. That was always something that had been hard for you, especially after your husband had passed. You worried he wouldn’t find friends, worried he’d feel lonely, worried he’d resent you for being reclusive. But things seemed to be looking up now. For the first time in almost four years, things were looking up. 

You wondered if it was time to start looking forward instead of backward. 

When you arrived at the park, you quickly spotted Minho. He was sitting on a bench, watching as Jiyeon played on the playground. Ryujin didn’t seem to be there yet. You pointed Jiyeon out to Haru and watched as he ran to say ‘hi’ to her. You sat beside Minho on the bench.

Minho looked over at you when you sat next to him, nodding a little in greeting before turning again to look back at his daughter and your son. “Hey.”

“Hi.” Your voice sounded strained to your own ears, though you weren’t sure why. “Is Ryujin here yet?”

“No. I haven’t seen her.” Minho shook his head but didn’t look at you.

You didn’t say anything else, suddenly feeling a little awkward and self conscious around him. He kept his eyes fixed forward, so you snuck glances at him out of the corner of your eye. You never really took the time to look at him before, always so embarrassed, keeping your eyes on your shoes. But now that you did look at him, you couldn’t stop your heart from fluttering. 

His hair was light—sort of blond—but dark brown at the roots. He must have dyed it. His eyes were dark, though the brown glowed honey when the sun shone on them. His skin looked smooth—soft—and you made a mental note to ask him if he used a specific kind of moisturizer. Your eyes wandered over the rest of his body—broad shoulders, strong arms, big hands, muscular thighs. He wore a t-shirt and shorts due to the summer heat, but somehow he looked so stunning, so attractive.

“Hey guys! Sorry I’m late!” Ryujin’s voice pulled you away from your shameless staring. You quickly looked over your shoulder at her and smiled, grateful for her presence so she could save you from the awkward silence. 

Minho stood, giving her a hug. Your stomach flipped uncomfortably. “No worries, Ryu. Yn and I only got here a few minutes ago too.” 

Ryujin sat on the bench beside you and you hugged her. Though when Minho sat back down, you could feel him pressed against your side. The bench really wasn’t made for three people, so you all crowded together. You tried to ignore the way your heart sped up when his bare thigh brushed against yours. 

“Yn, did you know that our company actually designed Minho’s dance studio?” 

“What?” You looked at Ryujin, eyes wide in surprise. You hadn’t realized your company had been the one to design the studio Minho worked for. Fate seemed to be thrusting the two of you together more than you thought. “I didn’t know that… Wait did you say Minho’s studio—”

“Yeah! Minho owns the studio.” Ryujin grinned slyly and Minho looked away, cheeks darkening in embarrassment. 

You turned to look at Minho fully. “Wow, that’s incredible!”

“A-ah I just… love to dance. I wanted there to be another place for people to dance and feel safe doing so.”

You nodded in understanding and turned to watch your son and Jiyeon play. They were swinging from the monkey bars now, laughing as they went. You listened as Ryujin and Minho caught up, talking about all they’d missed in each other’s lives over the past four or five years. 

Ryujin explained how she’d become very career driven and didn’t have time to date. Minho explained he was very focused on taking care of his daughter and also wasn’t interested in dating at the moment. You chimed in, agreeing with Minho. Taking care of a child all on your own was hard work—you certainly didn’t have the time for a relationship.

“So, how is Haru doing in class?” You finally asked Minho. “Is he behaving? Making friends? Dancing well?”

Minho nodded, looking out over the playground as he spoke to you. He hadn’t made eye contact with you the entire time you’d been sitting together. “Haru is one of my best students. He’s well behaved, of course, and gets along well with the other kids. They all like him. He’s easy to be friends with. And his dancing, as I mentioned before, is fantastic for his age and for this being his first dance class. If he wants to continue on, I would recommend getting him enrolled in some more permanent, long-lasting, classes after the summer workshop ends.” 

“Ah, that’s great to hear!” Ryujin sighed happily, leaning back against the bench and smiling as she watched Haru play with Jiyeon. 

“He seems to really enjoy dancing. He talks about it all the time now.” You grinned, pride filling your chest. “I think the chances are high that he’ll want me to enroll him in further classes.”

“You know, it’s no wonder he’s a good dancer. He has me for his aunt!”

“You didn’t pass him any genetics, Ryu—”

She scoffed, glaring at you playfully. “That doesn’t matter. I’ve been dancing for him since he was in the womb. He picked it up from that.” 

“... Like osmosis?” Minho tried to hold back his laughter as he spoke. 

Ryujin nodded, matter of factly. “Yeah. Like osmosis.” 

“I don’t think that’s how it works—” You stopped when she looked away, pouting. “But, sure. He got his dancing skills from you, Ryujin.” 

Minho laughed finally and Ryujin glared at him. He didn’t care, he kept laughing. You adored the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he laughed fully. You adored the way he got along well with Ryujin. You adored the way he cared for his daughter. 

“Anyways,” Ryujin said loudly, cutting off Minho’s laughter. “I just remembered I don’t have any food at my house. Minho, could we do dinner at your place?”

He nodded and smiled at her reassuringly. “Yeah, it’s no problem. Yn, are you or Haru allergic to cats?” 

“No, why?”

“Well,” he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I have three of them.”

Your eyes lit up, “Really? How precious. What are their names?” 

“Sooni, Doongi, and Dori!” He looked proud when he spoke of them. “I’ve had them since before Jiyeon. They’re getting older now, but… they were my first babies.”

You nodded, smiling along with him and Ryujin as he spoke about his pets. “That explains why you’re so good with kids, then.”

He shrugged but didn’t say anything else for a long moment. After sitting in silence for a few minutes, he clapped his hands together and stood. “Jiyeon and I should probably go if we’re hosting dinner. I need to pick up some groceries.” 

“No!” Ryujin stood too, crossing her arms. “Let Jiyeon stay and play. And Haru too. Take yn to help you with the groceries! I’ll stay and watch the kids!”

“Oh, Ryujin, I don’t know if—”

She pouted harder at you, “Please? You know you can trust me! And they’re having so much fun right now. Plus, you’d be a much better help with the groceries than Jiyeon. No offense, but she’s four. She can’t exactly carry as much as yn can.”

“Well, she’s not wrong about that,” Minho laughed and looked at you, his eyes tender and kind. “Do you want to come help me with the groceries?” 

You looked at Haru playing with Jiyeon. Then back at a pouting Ryujin. And finally, at Minho. You stood, dusting yourself off to play off the way you shivered when Minho grinned at you. “I guess it’s alright. But promise you’ll call if anything happens, Ryu, okay?”

“Of course,” she saluted at you and sat back down. “I’ll call if anything happens.”

You looked at Minho, the butterflies rising in your stomach again. “Should we go now?” 

He nodded, “Yeah. Let’s go.”

The grocery store, thankfully, wasn’t far from the park or from Minho’s place. So the two of you planned to walk to the grocery store from the park and go straight to his apartment afterward. He would start on dinner and Ryujin would come back when the kids were done playing.

While the part of you that was just a woman was thrilled for this time alone with Minho, the part of you that was a mother spoke louder and the nervousness took over. Minho kept a distance between the two of you as you walked, careful not to let your shoulders brush or invade your personal space. You appreciated the respect he had for you.

“Sorry to drag you along with me,” Minho apologized. He still wasn’t looking at you. You wished he would.

You shook your head. You didn’t mind coming with him, really. “I don’t mind, honestly.”

“Okay.”

“Can I ask you a question?” 

“Yeah,” he breathed, eyes still fixed ahead. “Sure.” 

“Why won’t you look at me?” 

That seemed to surprise him. He stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. “Do you want me to be honest?”

“Yeah, of course.” 

“I’m trying to be good.” He looked at you, eyes dark with some unknown emotion. “It’s hard for me to behave when I look at you.”

His jaw clenched as his eyes raked over you. Your stomach fluttered again, but it was different this time. You looked away first. He started walking again and you followed behind him. 

“Let’s just get the groceries and get back to my apartment.” 

Neither of you said much else as you got the groceries. Minho didn’t look at you for longer than a few seconds. And you didn’t look at him. The walk back to his apartment was silent too. He texted Ryujin to tell her he was starting dinner and that she could bring the kids back whenever they were all ready. 

“So, this is my place.” Minho placed the groceries on the kitchen counter, turning around to watch your reaction. He crossed his arms, leaning against the counter as you looked around. 

It was a decently sized place and was decorated nicely. The styling of the house reminded you of the way the studio was styled—clean and minimalistic. There were plants on the window sills, a cat tower in the corner of the living room, and the counters were all clean. A part of you thought it looked too clean for a single man with a toddler, but you remembered Ryujin mentioned he liked to keep his space tidy. 

“I’m kind of a nervous cleaner,” Minho murmured as you joined him in the kitchen. “I clean when I can’t sleep or anxiety is eating at me.” 

“You’re better than I am,” you laughed, swiping a finger across the countertop and admiring the lack of dirt there. 

He shrugged, biting back a smile. “Maybe. It doesn’t matter though. Being a single parent is hard, even if my apartment doesn’t show it.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, leaning against the counter opposite him. “You can say that again.”

“Mmm. I should start dinner now.” Minho hummed and opened the pantry where he had an apron hanging. 

Minho put the apron on and washed his hands before gathering all of the food and ingredients he would need. You moved out of his way, sitting at the barstool behind the counter to watch him. He moved with a familiar ease in the kitchen and if you hadn’t gathered before that he was in his element there, you could certainly see it now. 

“Have you always liked cooking?” 

He laughed a little but didn’t look back at you. “Yeah, I guess. In college my friends always came to my place and asked me to cook because they either hated doing it or were shit at it. Eventually it just kind of… became my thing. And after Jiyeon was born, I enjoyed it even more.” 

“I might have to have you teach me a thing or two someday, then.” 

“I’d like that.” 

You could hear the smile in his voice and it made you feel a little better. Truthfully, you were still reeling from his confession earlier. What did he mean it was hard to “behave” when he looked at you? You hardly knew each other. Your son had only been going to dance classes for a week and you’d hardly had a full conversation with him. Though, you supposed you could sort of relate in a way. You hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him the entire week. Maybe that’s what he meant. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the front door opening and the sound of Jiyeon calling for her father, your son and Ryujin not far behind. 

four

The saying goes, ‘time flies when you’re having fun.’ You could verify first hand that that was true. The next six weeks of Haru’s summer dance workshop passed quickly, and it was time for the recital where the students would show off what they’d been working on over the past seven weeks. You were more than excited to watch Haru dance. He’d been working so hard, even practicing at home in the evenings. 

And you had a surprise for him. Your parents would be coming to watch his recital and taking him to spend the weekend with them. You weren’t sure what you would do with a whole weekend to yourself, but you knew it would be good for Haru to spend some time with his grandparents. 

There was one other surprise that not even you knew about, however. Your late husband’s parents were also coming to the recital. You had, of course, invited them but they’d told you they were going to be out of town unfortunately. Little did you know they were coordinating with your parents to surprise both you and Haru. 

When your husband had passed, you had expected to be cut off from his family. It had been quite the opposite—they supported you more than you could have hoped for. You were as much family to them as he was, they said. And of course, they wanted to be in Haru’s life as well. You didn’t see them nearly as much as you would like to these days, but you were grateful for them just the same. 

You sat beside your parents in the auditorium, waiting for the recital to start. You looked over when someone sat beside you and your jaw dropped. It was your mother-in-law. 

“I thought you were going to be out of town!” You hugged her and she laughed as she hugged you back.

“Yeah, we might have fudged the truth a little.” She pulled away and you hugged your father-in-law next. “We wanted to surprise you and Haru. I know your parents are taking him for the weekend, so we might spend some time with the three of them as well this weekend, if that’s alright?”

“Oh, yeah, of course! Haru would love to spend some time with you guys.”

Before anyone could say anything else, the lights in the auditorium dimmed and Minho stepped out onto the stage, a pleasant smile on his face. You relaxed a little when you saw him. Over the past seven weeks, you’d gotten a lot closer to him. You met up regularly to let your kids play together and also to get to know one another better as well. 

“Good evening,” he started, leaning forward to speak into the microphone. “I’m so pleased to see all of you here tonight, supporting the hard work your children have put in to prepare for the recital. My name is Lee Minho and I am the owner and lead dance instructor here at 5-STAR Dance Studio. I’ve worked personally with many of the students who will be performing tonight and can attest first hand to their talent, dedication, and growth. 

“I hope, as you watch your children dance tonight, you will see all of their countless hours of hard work, all of their determination, and all of their passion for this art. Thank you for supporting our studio, but most of all, thank you for supporting your children and helping them to accomplish everything they’ve been hoping for and dreaming of. Without further ado, let’s start the recital.”

The recital started off well. You were enjoying yourself, happy to be watching such talented young dancers while also getting to sit beside some of the people you loved most in the world. Anticipation welled up inside of you as you watched and waited for Haru’s class to perform their routine. 

After several dance numbers, it was time for Haru’s class. You watched as the young students, ranging from four to seven years old, shuffled onto the stage. You could see Minho standing on the floor directly in front of the stage, ready to lead the students in their routine. When all the students were in their correct positions, the music started and the kids began to dance. 

Many of them (most of them) skipped around the stage, their movements not completely memorized or accurate—it was to be expected after only a short summer course full of young first time dancers. But your eyes were glued to your son. He was on time, he knew the dance, and he was good at it. Sure, it wasn’t the most difficult choreography, but he was four and he was dancing and he was good. Pride welled in your heart as you watched Haru dance. 

Your parents filmed Haru’s entire performance from beside you and when the dance was over, you clapped and cheered louder than anyone else in the auditorium. You beamed the rest of the night, even though you hardly paid any attention to the other dance numbers. 

When the recital ended, you were quick to find your son, hugging him tightly and congratulating him for his achievements. “You did so good my love!” 

“Mom!” He giggled, pushing you away a little so he could breathe properly without you crushing his lungs. 

It was then he noticed your parents and your husband’s parents. His face lit up even more and cheered as he gave all of them tight hugs. He already knew he would be spending the weekend with your parents and his bag was already packed. Though, his other grandparents being there was a surprise to him. You watched, smiling, as he chattered cheerfully with his grandparents. 

“Yn!” You looked over your shoulder at the sound of your name. Minho. He waved at you as he made his way toward you, a small smile playing on his lips. 

You smiled back. “Minho! Hey! These are my parents and my in-laws. Guys, this is Minho, Haru’s dance instructor.”

Minho’s smile faltered a little at the mention of your in-laws, but if anyone noticed this, they didn’t say anything. He extended his arm for them, bowing slightly when he clasped hands with each of them. 

“It’s lovely to meet all of you. Haru’s been great in class. And he’s a very talented dancer. It’s been a pleasure to teach him.” 

“He’s loved your class Minho,” you chimed in, hand finding its place on his bicep. “And we decided to enroll him in a more long-term class. I’ve already filled out all the paperwork and turned it in to Soomin.” 

He smiled wider at that. “Ah, really? I’m looking forward to it then! I should probably keep making my rounds. Great job tonight Haru. I’ll talk to you later, yn.” 

Once he’d left, your mother-in-law turned and shared a look with your mother. Then she looked at you pointedly. “He seems like a charming young man.” 

“What do you mean by that?” You narrowed your eyes at that, poking her teasingly. “He is a charming man, but I have a feeling that’s not quite all that you’re saying.” 

“He just seems charming.” She shrugged, grinning at you. 

“You two would be good together.” Your own mother interjected. “Is he single?”

“Mom!” 

“What? I’m just asking!” 

You scoffed, crossing your arms and hoping they couldn’t see how flustered you were. “He’s single but he doesn’t have time for dating. He has a daughter to take care of. And quite frankly, I don’t have the time either.” 

“You don’t have time,” your mother-in-law spoke softly, reaching out and touching your shoulder, “or you feel guilty?” 

“I—” You breathed in sharply, freezing in your place. 

Her face softened. “Yn, you deserve to move on. He would want you to move on. There’s nothing wrong with finding new love.” 

“Grandma!” Haru spoke before you could, tugging on the hem of your mother-in-law’s skirt. “Are you going to come with us for ice cream?” 

She nodded. “If your other grandma says it’s okay for us to come!” 

You were not included in these plans. It marked the start of his weekend with his grandparents. You didn’t mind though. You smiled at them, moving on from the words that had shaken you to your core. You crouched down in front of Haru.

“Be good this weekend, okay? I’ll see you on Monday.” 

Haru hugged you and you had to resist the urge to break into tears. It was hard to part with him even for a weekend. He smiled at you and you knew you would be alright. “Okay! Bye Mom! I love you!” 

“I love you too, sweetheart.” 

You watched as your son left with all of his grandparents, smiling fondly at the group of them. As you prepared to leave yourself, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You turned to look at the person to your left and relaxed, seeing Minho standing there again. 

“Sorry to startle you,” he mumbled, looking away shyly. “Um, Ryujin invited me to go out for drinks with her since my parents are watching Jiyeon this weekend. She said your parents are watching Haru and I should ask if you want to come with us.” 

You tried to think of the last time you went out for drinks—the last time you did so with Ryujin at that—and couldn’t remember. Your son would be gone all weekend. Going out with friends would be better than staying alone in your bed all weekend… right? So you nodded. “Sure, I’d like that.” 

Minho took his hand off your shoulder. “Did you drive here?” 

“No,” you shook your head, crossing your arms over your chest. “We took the bus.” 

“You can ride with me then. I have a car.” His easy grin never faltered as he offered to drive you.

“Okay,” you smiled back, stomach filling with butterflies again as you looked at him. “Should we go then?” 

He grabbed your hand and began to lead you through the crowd. “Yeah, let’s go.” 

Once you were outside of the lobby of the auditorium, out in the fresh night air, you breathed deeply, closing your eyes and taking in the freedom the open space brought you. It was still a bit warm from the heat of the day, and despite being in the city, it felt easier to breathe out here than it did inside the stuffy auditorium. 

Minho let go of your hand. You tried not to show your disappointment.

“Mmm, it’s easier to breathe out here,” he murmured, closing his eyes and tilting his head up for a moment.  

You watched him, tilting your head back as well and looking at the stars as you breathed deep again. “Yeah. It’s nice.” 

“It’s been awhile since I’ve had the chance to just… breathe like this. Kids don’t really… stop to just enjoy these moments—this stillness.” 

He was right. Kids were always on the move, never stopping for more than a second. They didn’t quite appreciate the quiet of a summer night, the breeze cooling their skin. You nodded in agreement. “When I was younger, I didn’t understand why my parents lingered in doorways instead of leaving right away. I didn’t understand why they wanted quiet. But I understand now. Life moves so quickly. I wish I’d appreciated it more early on.” 

Minho was quiet for a long moment, staring at the stars alongside you, hands shoved deep in his pockets. He sighed a little, content, and looked over at you. You were still looking up, eyes scanning the stars for familiar constellations. He looked away and started walking again. You followed in silence.

“So, uh, your… in-laws? I didn’t realize you’re married.” 

His voice sounded strained, awkward. You realized it was because he felt a little guilty for flirting with you over the past seven weeks. You cleared your throat, willing the tears pricking the back of your eyes away. “I’m not. Not anymore, anyways. My husband… he passed away in a tragic accident a few months after Haru was born.” 

“Oh.” Minho wanted to slap himself in the face. He felt terrible for bringing it up—why couldn’t he let his curiosity fade? “I am so sorry. I-I didn’t know. I shouldn’t have asked—” 

You shook your head, smiling weakly at him. “It’s fine, Min. You didn’t know. It’s okay, really. It still hurts to think about him, but… it hurts a little less each day.” 

Minho didn’t say anything else on the topic and you were grateful. He led you to his car and helped you in, making sure you were safe before he started to drive. “Ryujin told me to meet her at a place ten minutes from here. It’s kind of close to all three of our apartments.” 

You nodded and stared out the side window as Minho drove. That didn’t last long—your eyes were pulled to Minho in the driver’s seat. He had one hand on the steering wheel and the other rested on the gearshift. His eyes were fixed ahead, focused entirely on driving. You could tell he was trying not to say the wrong thing. 

“I haven’t gone drinking in a long time,” you murmured, looking away from him so he didn’t catch you staring. “I might be a lightweight now.” 

He laughed a little and you smiled to yourself, proud that you’d made the ever stoic minho laugh at something you said. “I’ll take care of you tonight, don’t worry. I’ll be designated driver.”

“Don’t you want to drink too?” You frowned a little at his statement, looking at him curiously. 

“I don’t really care,” he shrugged, not sparing you a glance. “I don’t mind not drinking tonight. There will be other nights for me to drink with you and Ryujin, I’m sure.” 

You liked that answer—liked that he seemed to be admitting he wanted to grow closer to you and spend more time with you. So you nodded, not saying anything else the rest of the drive to the bar and grill where Ryujin was waiting. 

She was sitting at a table outside when Minho parked. She watched the two of you through narrowed eyes as Minho helped you out of the car, grinning slyly when she caught your eye. You scoffed and crossed your arms, hoping she couldn’t see right through you (even though you knew she could). 

“Nice of you guys to finally show up,” Ryujin teased, standing and giving Minho a quick side hug before pulling you into a longer, more heartfelt one. “I was starting to wonder if maybe you stood me up to go out together.” 

“Never, Ryu.” Minho chuckled lowly, sitting across the table from you and Ryujin.

Your face felt hot as you looked at the menu Ryujin placed in front of you. “I didn’t think we took that long.” 

Ryujin bumped your shoulder with her own, still smiling wide. “You didn’t. I’m just teasing you.”

“Order whatever you want,” Minho said softly as he inspected his own menu. “It’s on me tonight.” 

“Oh, no that’s okay! You don’t have to—”

Minho looked at you and your words died in your throat. “I want to. So order whatever you want.” 

“I’m getting the most expensive thing then!” Ryujin joked, leaning back in her seat comfortably. “The most expensive beer and this expensive bulgogi.” 

Nothing on the menu was very expensive, actually, as it was a small local place. That was the joke though—even the most expensive thing there was hardly anything out of Minho’s pocket. You were still a bit hesitant to accept his kindness, but he was sincere and when he looked at you the way he was looking at you right now, it was hard to say no. 

So you pointed out what you wanted. Minho waved a server over to your table and ordered for the three of you. He thanked the server as they left to give the order to the cooking staff. 

“How did our little Haru do tonight?” Ryujin asked, leaning her elbows on the table and resting her chin on the palms of her hands. 

“He was great!” You beamed proudly as you spoke of your son. “You would have loved to watch him. I can’t believe he’s only been dancing for seven weeks.” 

“He’s pretty incredible,” Minho interjected, nodding along with a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. 

Ryujin pouted dramatically, “Damn, I really wish I could’ve been there to see him. If only I didn’t have to finish that stupid work project.” 

“Don’t worry, Ryu,” you patted her reassuringly on the back. “There will be other recitals for you to come to. I enrolled him in one of the long-term classes at Minho’s studio.” 

Ryujin’s eyes lit up at that and Minho tried to hide his proud grin. 

It wasn’t long before the server returned with your food and drinks. Minho, true to his word, only had water. When Ryujin asked him why he wasn’t drinking with you, he just shrugged and said he was going to be the designated driver. The three of you talked and laughed well into the evening, and several drinks later, you were feeling a bit delirious. 

“Minho,” you slurred as he helped you to his car, “Listen to me!” 

“I’m listening.” 

His voice was calm, quiet. In the midst of your alcohol induced haze, you were grateful for the softness of his voice and demeanor. It relaxed you. “You are, like, the prettiest man I’ve ever met but shhhh don’t tell that to my husband.” 

“I won’t.”

“It’s not like you could anyways,” you frowned slightly, but you didn’t feel sad thinking about him like you did when you were sober. “He’s not around anymore. I guess, don’t tell Ryujin either, then.” 

“I won’t tell Ryujin.” 

“Minho, are you taking me home now?” 

“I am.” 

You hummed a little to yourself, eyes drooping tiredly as he started to drive. You hadn’t been this drunk in a long time. Ryujin had thought it was funny—she hadn’t seen you like this in years. Minho was soft and quiet and concerned, but he didn’t voice that to you. He just helped. 

When you arrived at your apartment, Minho helped you there as well. You kicked your shoes off and frowned when you didn’t see Haru’s shoes by the door. “Where’s Haru? Haruuuuu?”

“He’s not home right now,” Minho spoke gently, helping you to the kitchen to get a glass of water. 

“Why not?” 

“He’s staying with your parents for the weekend, remember?” 

“Oh,” you frowned deeper and took a sip from the glass of water Minho handed to you. “I guess I forgot. Must be the alcohol. Minho, I’m tired.” 

“Let’s get you to bed then.” 

Minho helped you to your room, catching you when you tripped over your feet and almost fell to the floor. When you got to your bedroom, he helped you to your bed, about to tuck the covers in around you when you whined and thrashed below him. “No, I can’t sleep in these clothes! You have to take my jeans off.” 

“Yn,” he sighed and you missed the lust that flashed momentarily in his eyes. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Can you do it yourself? After I leave?”

“No,” you pouted. 

“Please?” 

You shook your head. “No. I need your help.” 

He sighed again, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re going to be pissed at me in the morning when you remember this.” 

“No, I won’t be.” 

He clenched his jaw and watched as you pouted up at him with big round eyes. He dragged his fingers through his hair and then gave in. “Okay. Lift your hips for me, sweetheart.” 

“Oh,” you giggled a little and lifted your hips. “I like when you call me that.” 

He didn’t respond as he focused on dragging the zipper of your jeans down and unbuttoning them. He took a deep breath and hooked his fingers through the belt loops before tugging them over your hips and down your legs. He glanced at your underwear for a split second, then looked away in shame. It was too late, though. The image of your lacy black underwear was seared onto his brain.

You kicked your jeans the rest of the way off and sighed in content. The happiness didn’t last long, though. You were pouting again as you sat up. “Need this off, too.” 

Minho watched with wide eyes as you tugged your shirt over your head and threw it across the room. His eyes dropped to your chest and the lacy black bra you wore that matched your underwear. He wondered for a moment who you’d worn it for and why you’d worn it tonight of all nights. But then the guilt crept up his neck in hot waves again and he looked away, clearing his throat awkwardly. 

“Okay, I should probably go now.” 

You whined, pulling your covers around you, “Don’t want you to go.” 

He looked at you again, relaxing as he saw you covered by your blankets. He sat on the edge of your bed, running his fingers through your hair gently. “I’m sorry. It’s for the best though, darling. I’ll text you in the morning to see how you’re feeling, okay?” 

“Okay,” you nodded sadly but yawned, heavy eyes closing and breathing relaxing just a bit.

Minho stood and left your bedroom to refill the glass of water for you. He also searched your medicine cabinet and found some medicine you could take when you woke to hopefully ease the hangover. He placed the medicine and water on your bedside table and left a note also explaining what had happened and why you were only in your underwear. He didn’t want you to be worried when you woke up. 

He took one last look at your sleeping form, smiled a little to himself, and left your apartment, lost in thoughts of you as he drove to his own home for the night. 

five

Your head was killing you and the sunlight peeking through your bedroom curtains was too bright. You groaned as you sat up and looked around the room, trying to clear the fog in your brain and remember what had happened and where you were and what day it was. Your eyes fell on the folded piece of paper, water, and medicine on your bedside table. 

You took the medicine and drank the water before grabbing the paper and unfolding it. Minho’s neat handwriting greeted you. 

Yn, You insisted on taking your clothes off to sleep last night. I helped you with your jeans but we didn’t do anything. Drink water and take the medicine and text me when you wake up. - Minho

Your stomach churned a little. Minho had seen you in your underwear. Minho had taken your pants off. You closed your eyes and tried to remember it happening. You wanted to remember. 

The night flashed in your mind. Minho’s dark eyes looking you over. His fingers brushed over your bare legs as he pulled your jeans off. A sharp intake of breath as he looked away. You felt your cunt throbbing as you opened your eyes. 

If you had been sober, you were sure you would have kissed him. Maybe more than kissed him. 

You found your phone on the charger beside your bed. You scrambled for it, quickly opening your phone to your texts with Minho. Your finger hovered over the screen until you finally decided to just call him.

It only rang twice before he answered, voice deeper and thicker than usual. Had you woken him up? “Hello?”

“H-hey, sorry… Did I wake you up?” 

You heard rustling in the background. Presumably his bed as he adjusted to a more comfortable position. “No.” 

He was lying. You knew you’d woken him up. Instead of saying that though, you pulled your knees to your chest, suddenly nervous about talking to him. “Um, I read your note. Thank you for taking care of me last night. A-and sorry for being such a bother—”

“It’s no problem,” he interrupted, voice still soft and raspy. “I didn’t mind. You weren’t bothersome.”

“Still—”

“Do you want to hang out today?” 

His question caught you off guard. It was the last thing you’d expected him to say when you called him. “What?” 

“Do you want to hang out today?” He repeated himself and you could hear the small smile in his raspy voice. “Just the two of us. Without Ryujin. Without the kids. You and me.” 

“Oh.” 

“I mean, we don’t have to if you don’t want to or you’re uncomfortable, I just—” 

“No, I want to!” Your voice was too loud, but you didn’t care. You couldn’t care. Not when you could hear your heartbeat in your ears and feel yourself pulsing against your underwear at the thought of spending time alone with Minho. “I want to.” 

“Okay,” he breathed. 

“Um, where? And when?” 

He hummed, contemplating for a moment that felt just a bit too long. “I could come to yours. You should relax today. I’m sure you’ve got a gnarly hangover.” 

As if in agreement, your head pounded painfully. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to have to go out of your way.” 

“I’m sure. I want to. I can be there in an hour, if that’s okay with you.”

“I-it might take me a little longer than that to get ready—” 

He laughed a little and you stopped talking. “Don’t worry about that. You don’t have to get all dressed up for me to hang out at your house with you. Wear something comfortable, don’t worry about your hair or makeup. I don’t mind.”

“Okay…” You hesitated a little, your stomach flipping at how domestic this felt. “If you say so.”

“I do. So, see you in an hour?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded even though he couldn’t see you. “See you in an hour.” 

When you hung up, you sat there, staring blankly into space for a moment before the reality of what was happening hit you and you scrambled out of bed. You looked at yourself in your bathroom mirror and cringed a little—your hair was a mess from sleeping on it, you still needed to wash your makeup off from the night before, and you could taste how awful your breath was. 

You showered, washed your face, brushed your hair, brushed your teeth, and changed into comfortable clothes to prepare for Minho’s arrival. He had said you didn’t have to get ready, so this should be fine right? You half hoped he’d be wearing comfortable clothes too so that you’d feel a little better about your own choice of outfit. 

You cleaned your room up, tidied up the living room and the kitchen, and sat down on the couch just in time for him to knock on the door of your apartment. You took a deep breath and stood again, making your way to the front door to let him in. 

When you opened the door and saw him standing there, you had to remind yourself to breathe. It was unfair how good he looked barefaced, in just sweatpants and a t-shirt. His hair looked soft—fluffy—as it hung down in his eyes. He grinned at you—a smile you’d recently found he only showed you when you were alone or no one was looking. In one hand he held a grocery bag. 

“Hey,” he murmured, eyes flicking down to your outfit and back to your face.

You stepped out of the doorway to let him into your apartment. “Hi.” 

“I’m glad you listened to me,” his voice was still soft, lower than you thought you’d ever heard it. “It’s nice to see you like this. Comfortable. Not putting up a front with me.” 

“Well, you make it easy.” You couldn’t believe you were freely admitting to him how comfortable you felt around him, even after only knowing him for seven weeks. Usually you wouldn’t open up so much to someone you hadn’t known for very long, but Minho was different. His experiences were similar to yours, his hurts were similar to yours, and his (mostly) calm demeanor was exactly what you needed. 

He hummed a little in response, trying (and failing) to hide his smile from you. He made his way to your kitchen and set the grocery bag on the counter. When he opened the bag, you saw it was filled with snacks—many of which were your favorites. “Good. You make it pretty easy to let my walls down too.” 

Your heart swelled at his words and you watched as he started pulling the snacks out of the grocery bag. You couldn’t help but smile as he organized everything on your counter. He looked proud of himself as he finished organizing the snacks and he looked back at you. He leaned against your countertop and smirked at you, waiting for you to say something else. 

“So, uh, what do you want to do?” You finally found your voice. You felt nervous with him looking at you so intensely, but you tried to hide that as best you could. 

“Well,” he pushed away from the counter, smirk still plastered across his face. “We could watch a movie. Or I could make you something to eat. Or we could just sit and talk. Or we could do all of that. We do have all day.” 

Minho’s implication that he would be spending the entire day with you at your apartment made your stomach flip and you felt like you stopped breathing. You hoped he couldn’t see how clearly he affected you. You knew he probably could. 

“We could start with something to eat and go from there,” you mumbled, feeling the heat starting to creep up the back of your neck. “I am kind of hungry.” 

He nodded and brushed past you, making his way further into your kitchen. You helped him find ingredients he needed to make you the meal he wanted to make you and then you watched as he prepared everything to be cooked. 

“How did you sleep?” Minho asked as he chopped vegetables. 

“Mmm, okay. To be honest, I slept through the night for the first time in awhile. Could’ve done without the hangover when I woke up, though.” 

Minho laughed a little at your admission and bobbed his head in agreement. “Yeah I bet. Did you take the medicine I left you?”

“Yeah, I did. Thanks for that by the way.”

He hummed in acknowledgement and continued cutting the vegetables. You watched the way he moved with ease, reminded again of how in his element he was when he cooked. You admired his hands as he worked as well as the way his forearms moved and flexed. He was so beautiful and he didn’t even know it. Or maybe he did. Maybe he was teasing you on purpose. 

“I want to tell you about my ex,” he finally said softly.

Your eyes widened in surprise. That wasn’t something you had expected. You wouldn’t have forced it out of him. You didn’t need him to tell you about her. But the fact that he was willing to and he wanted to made you feel fuzzy inside. “Y-you don’t have to.” 

“I know,” he nodded, looking over at you with a gentle smile. “But I want to. I think it’s time I talk about it with someone.” 

“Okay.”

Minho sighed as he finished cutting the vegetables and put them off to the side, setting a pot of water on the stove so it could start to heat up and boil. “I thought she was the love of my life. I was going to marry her someday, when I had the money for a ring. But it was hard to save much for it since we were taking care of a newborn baby. Jiyeon wasn’t planned, but when we found out, we both decided to keep her. 

“I thought everything was fine. She never mentioned feeling overwhelmed by taking care of Jiyeon, never mentioned she wasn’t happy with me. So I thought it was all fine. But then I noticed that things were off. She would hide her phone when she was texting around me, she wasn’t as excited to interact with Jiyeon, she slept on the very edge of the bed at night. I wondered if maybe it was just postpartum depression. Or maybe she was having a hard time taking care of Jiyeon all day without as much help from me since I was at work.

“I came home one night and I could hear Jiyeon crying. I thought maybe she had just started crying and my girlfriend would be in the nursery taking care of her. But when I went to check on them, it was just Jiyeon. Then I thought, maybe she was just asleep and hadn’t woken up because of over-exhaustion. So I calmed Jiyeon down and brought her with me to the bedroom to greet my girlfriend.” 

Minho paused and added vegetables, meat and other ingredients to the pot of, now boiling, water. He swallowed thickly, eyes averted as he struggled to form his next words. You placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and squeezed, urging him to continue when he was ready. So he took another shaky breath and kept telling his story. 

“When I opened the door, I felt my heart drop into my stomach. She was there, yeah, but she was with someone. They were so shameless. They didn’t notice my daughter crying, so they certainly didn’t notice when I opened the door and walked in on them. I’m sure you can imagine what was happening. He was… well that part doesn’t matter. I asked him to leave. I wanted to yell so badly, but I had to be quiet since I’d just gotten Jiyeon to calm down.

“The guy left and I put Jiyeon back in the nursery before going back to confront my girlfriend. At first she tried to ignore everything but I eventually got her to admit she hated her life. She hated her life with me. She hated that she had to give up everything she loved to do because of Jiyeon. She hated that she had no social life. She hated that she didn’t get to have sex anymore. She just hated everything. 

“I told her she needed to leave too. I couldn’t stand the thought of her sticking around and making our daughter feel like shit just for being born. She didn’t even argue. She packed her things and left that night. I haven’t heard from her since. But I think she’s married and living in the States now. 

“You know, sometimes… I wonder if I made a mistake. I thought it would be better if she wasn’t around to make Jiyeon feel terrible about herself but… is it worse for Jiyeon to grow up without a mom at all? I don’t know what I’m doing half the time and I’m so terrified of fucking everything up. I love her so much. She’s my entire life. And I’m so scared I’m going to do a terrible job and she’ll grow up to hate me. I’m the one who kicked her mom out. When she finds out about that… will she hate me?” 

You were quiet for a long moment, not wanting to interrupt him, not wanting to disturb the moment. You watched as Minho finished the meal he’d been working on. He served you the food and got some for himself and sat down beside you at the counter. 

“Minho,” you whispered, looking at him intently. He looked over at you at the sound of his name. “She could never hate you. You’ve done so much for her. Anyone can see how much she loves you. That won’t change. And when the time comes where you have to explain this to her, she’ll understand. And you know what? Fuck your ex. She’s a bitch. You didn’t deserve any of that. Jiyeon didn’t deserve that.”

“Thanks, yn.” Minho smiled weakly at you. “I get so in my head sometimes—so worried. Thank you for grounding me.” 

“Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me this.”

He nodded and chuckled halfheartedly. “I don’t know what it is about you but you just make me feel so… comfortable? You’re very trustworthy. It’s easy for me to talk to you.” 

“I feel that way about you too.” You and Minho ate in silence for a bit longer before you spoke again. “You know, there’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while now.” 

“And what’s that?” 

You took a deep breath and turned to face him. “I want to learn how to dance. I… want you to teach me.” 

“You want… me to teach you how to dance?” He looked at you with wide, curious eyes, excitement hidden in their depths. He set his utensils down and looked at you, trying to keep his face neutral. “When?” 

“W-wait, you would do it?”

“Sure,” he shrugged, unable to hide his grin anymore. 

“Oh. I didn’t expect you to agree so quickly,” you laughed a little, smoothing your fingers over your lap nervously. “Well, when are you free?” 

He opened the calendar on his phone and scrolled through it, searching for any availability. “Mmm, I’m free after the studio closes on Wednesday. Does that work for you? It would be more of a one on one, private lesson, but that’s all I can manage without getting you signed up for a class.” 

“Yeah, Wednesday would work for me. I’m sure Ryujin wouldn’t mind watching Haru for a little bit.” You knew Wednesday would work. Ryujin was free that evening. You knew that because she’d already planned to come over for dinner with the two of you. 

“Okay,” Minho grinned at you. “Wednesday then. Just meet me there around 8:00, and we’ll get started.” 

“Okay.” You smiled back and you hoped he couldn’t see just how excited you were.

“Now, how about that movie?” 

six

After your day spent with Minho, you almost couldn’t wait until Wednesday. Haru had a week off dance since the class you’d signed him up for didn’t start right away. You had to take him to the daycare at your office, which he didn’t enjoy as much but put up with nonetheless. You didn’t realize how much you enjoyed seeing Minho almost every morning until you didn’t see him at all until Wednesday. 

When you told Ryujin about your dance lesson planned with Minho on Wednesday, she was over the moon. She asked you to tell her what happened when you hung out alone probably fifty times and then made you promise you’d spill all the details of your lesson once you returned from it. She even agreed to watch Haru while you were gone since she had been planning to come over anyway. 

With your plans set in motion, all that was left to do was wait for Wednesday. Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday were the longest days of your life. When Wednesday finally rolled around, you were antsy and couldn’t wait to be finished with work. You weren’t sure why you were so excited about spending more time with Minho. You felt ridiculous—like a teenage girl again. 

But then, it was time. You were dressed in a new workout set Ryujin had bought you and you had your water bottle and everything else you’d need. You took a deep breath as you looked at the sign about the studio door. You went inside. 

“Hi,” Minho grinned at you as you stepped into the studio after hours. No one else was around, you noticed. Even Soomin had gone home for the night. He locked the front door of the studio behind you and ducked his head sheepishly. “I-I’m not trying to be a creep and lock you in here, I’ve just had people try to come in after hours for various reasons and I don’t want us to be interrupted.” 

You tried not to read too much into what he had said. Obviously, he just meant that he didn’t want your dance lesson to be cut short since he had a lot to teach you. At least, that’s what you told yourself. 

You smiled back at him, reassuringly. “It’s okay, I get it. And I trust you.” 

His chest swelled with pride at the simple statement. You trusted him. It wasn’t really a special sentence by any means, but it still made his mind fuzzy and made his heart leap in his chest. He nodded and led you into the smallest room in the dance studio he and the other instructors used for one on one lessons. 

“So what do we do first?” You asked, standing awkwardly in the middle of the floor and watching as Minho walked over to the speaker system set up in the corner, attaching his phone and putting music on. 

“First, we stretch.” Minho turned back to you, slowly sinking to the floor and starting to stretch. “You can’t dance without stretching, otherwise you could hurt yourself.” 

You followed suit, sitting on the ground across from him. “R-right. That makes sense.” 

Minho led you through a few stretches from the front of the room, still hesitant to get too close to you. The last thing he wanted was to make you uncomfortable in any way. Even if he had trouble admitting it to himself, he did like you and your comfort was the most important thing to him, especially right now. 

After the two of you finished stretching, Minho changed the music. It was sweet and soft and Minho’s gentle smile put you at ease. “We’ll start with something easier, yeah?”

He showed you simple steps—a ball change here, a little spin there. He never got too close to you, adjusting your movements from a reasonable distance. You were grateful that he didn’t push your boundaries, no matter how much you kind of wished he would. 

“I think I’m starting to get the hang of it,” you laughed, copying Minho’s movements. You hadn’t had this much fun in awhile, to be honest. 

“Why don’t we step it up a bit, then? Do you want to try something else?” 

You nodded, your smile never falling from your lips. Minho scrolled through his playlist until he found a song he liked. You weren’t sure you’d ever heard the song before, but it started off slow and sensual and made you shiver with some unknown desire. Minho turned to look at you, expression unreadable. 

“Is this okay?” 

“Yeah,” you agreed, breathless, hands at your sides awkwardly. “Though, I’ll admit, I’m not entirely sure I’ll be good at dancing to something like this.” 

“I’ll teach you.” 

His voice was low—soft, but darker than usual. And his eyes. They bore into you and caused goosebumps to rise along your arms, sent a shiver down your spine. He stepped a little closer to you, but still kept his distance as he demonstrated the moves he wanted you to try. You were mesmerized, albeit a bit nervous. You weren’t sure you could recreate his movements to be as beautiful as they were when he did them. 

“So,” you took a breath, trying the movement, “like this?” 

Minho watched silently and then shook his head a little. “You have to roll through it a little bit more. You’re stopping before you finish the entire movement because you’re trying to rush into the next one. Take some time to really make the body roll more languid. Like this.” 

He demonstrated again and you willed yourself to pay attention. You forced yourself not to become too distracted by thoughts of how else he might be able to use his hips or the way his lip looked tucked between his teeth when he concentrated. Forced yourself to look at him only analytically, ignoring the voice in your head that repeatedly screamed about how attractive he was. 

You tried the movement again but he shook his head and you sighed. “Still wrong?” 

“You’re overthinking it a little,” he murmured. His voice was gentle but not condescending. He stood behind you, looking you in the eye through the mirror in front of you. “Do you mind if I…?” 

You shook your head. “N-no. You can… Yeah. Show me properly…” 

Minho nodded and gently grabbed your hips. He adjusted your stance, moving one hand to the small of your back and pushing lightly. 

“You’re really stiff. For this movement to work, you need to loosen up a little. Just feel the music.” 

You tried to loosen your body, but it was so hard when he was so close to you—when his hands were on your waist and you could feel his breath against the shell of your ear. You could feel his body pressed against yours and you hoped he couldn’t tell you were finding it hard to breathe with him right up on you. 

“Roll your hips like…” Minho held your hips as he rolled along to the music helping you follow along. You could feel his dick through his pants and you bit your lip as you watched the two of you in the mirror. Minho exhaled, voice breathy as he spoke again. “Yeah, like that.” 

Minho didn’t move away from you and you didn’t move away either. Your eyes held his through the mirror and his hands squeezed your hips. He rolled his hips slightly, rutting his hardening dick into you from behind. You shivered and pressed your own hips back further into him. 

“Fuck, yn, I—”

He was interrupted by the sound of your phone ringing. It was like your mind cleared instantly in that moment. You jumped away from him, hurrying over to your bag in the corner and answering your phone. “Hello?”

“Hey, yn, I hate to cut your thing with Minho short but, Haru isn’t feeling well and he wants to talk to you—”

“Mom,” Haru’s voice overlapped Ryujin’s and the sadness in it filled you with regret and broke your heart. “Are you coming home soon?” 

“Yeah, baby. I-I’m coming now, okay?” You stood, gathering your things and leaving the room so you could put on your regular shoes.

After reassuring Haru that you’d be home in only a few minutes, you hung up and turned to Minho. He leaned against the wall, watching as you hurriedly changed your shoes and got ready to leave. You tried to ignore the way your chest squeezed at the hurt look on his face. 

“Leaving?”

“Y-yeah, Haru needs me—”

“Look, yn, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“Thanks for the dance lesson. I’ll see you later.” 

Minho watched as you left. There weren’t many things that Minho regretted in his life. But now there were two.

seven

Everyday you took Haru to dance class consisted of finding new ways to avoid Minho. You didn’t think you’d be able to look him in the eye if you saw him. The embarrassment was eating you alive just thinking about it. After you’d run out on him a couple weeks ago, he’d sent you a few text messages and called twice before finally stopping to give you space. He figured you’d come around eventually. It was starting to look like he was wrong. 

He was also embarrassed. He couldn’t believe he’d let lust take him over like that. It’d just been so long since he’d been touched—since he’d touched someone. He was, after all, a human. Giving into his desires was his worst mistake. He should’ve been more respectful. Now you couldn’t even look at him. 

If he could go back in time, he’d keep his distance. Keep his hands off your hips. He sighed, dragging a hand through his hair as students filed in. Another day of you ushering Haru in and leaving before he could even say hello. At least, that’s what he thought. 

His eyes widened in surprise when he saw you make your way through the door, take a deep breath, and walk right toward him. You crossed your arm and he frowned a little, taking note of the physical barrier you were putting up between the two of you. “Hi.” 

“Hey,” he breathed. 

“So,” you started, taking another deep breath and looking up at him. “Haru said he would like to invite Jiyeon over for a sleepover. Obviously, I said I would check with you before I promised him anything.” 

Minho’s frown deepened as he thought about it. “Oh, well… I’ve never really left Jiyeon with anyone overnight except for my parents.”

“Yeah. I thought you might say that.” You nodded and uncrossed your arms, sighing a little as you looked at him. “Haru really wants this. And I think Jiyeon would have a lot of fun too. So… if you would feel more comfortable, you’re welcome to stay over too. I-I don’t have a guest room or anything, but you can sleep in my bedroom and I’ll sleep on the couch or something.” 

Minho didn’t really have a reason to say no anymore. He thought it over a little longer and determined it would probably be good for Jiyeon to have the time with her friend. And you were offering to host him anyway. What could really go wrong? “Okay. When did you want to do it?” 

You had been cleaning the same spot on the counter for almost ten minutes now and even your son was starting to notice. “Mom, why are you just cleaning that spot?” 

“Oh,” you blinked and looked at the counter. There wasn’t a spot in sight. It was squeaky clean. You sighed and put the rag away, offering a tired smile to your son. “I’m just a little distracted.” 

“Because Mr. Minho is coming over?” 

You hated how he could see right through you. Hated that even at four years old he knew you better than anyone. You hated that it was hard to hide things from him sometimes. There were things he didn’t need to carry. 

“Mmm, maybe a little. I just want our house to look nice and clean for our guests.”

“Yeah, because you like Mr. Minho.” 

You chucked quietly and shook your head. “No. I-I don’t.”

You cursed the waver in your voice. You were spared your son’s teasing when the doorbell rang. You put the rag away and wiped your hands on your pants nervously. With one final deep breath, you opened the door and smiled at Minho and Jiyeon. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Minho smiled warmly at you and ushered his daughter inside. She kicked her shoes off and dropped her overnight bag on the floor by the door before running off with Haru to play in his bedroom. “You have a lovely apartment.” 

You looked away, feeling the heat of embarrassment creeping up your spine. “Ah, it’s nothing. Thank you.” 

He nodded and stepped inside as well. He took his shoes off carefully, grabbed Jiyeon’s bag and moved it somewhere out of the way, and then set his own things down. He watched as you smoothed your shirt. It didn’t need to be smoothed. He could tell you were nervous.

“Um, are you… are you guys hungry?” You asked softly, turning to walk towards the kitchen. “Haru and I ate, but I can make something else if you guys would like.”

Minho shook his head, gentle smile still tugging at the corners of his lips. “We ate before we came so we’ll be fine.” 

“Okay.” 

You and Minho stayed silent for a long moment, listening to the faint sound of your children playing together in the other room. You wanted to say something—the silence was too loud—but you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything meaningful. Minho watched you carefully, gauging your comfort around him before he said anything. 

“Yn.” His voice was soft, so you looked at him, feeling more relaxed at the gentleness in his eyes. “I wanted to say sorry about a couple weeks ago. I-I shouldn’t have—I’m sorry.” 

“You don’t have anything to be sorry about.” 

“Are you sure? Because you’ve been ignoring me for, like, two weeks now—”

“I’m just scared.” You looked away again, chewing on your bottom lip anxiously. How much were you willing to admit to him? “You didn’t do anything I didn’t want. But I… I have to think about Haru. I’m sorry for ignoring you, I just… I’m not strong enough to resist.”

He nodded and stood, making his way toward you. He stood next to you, leaning his shoulder into yours. It was a small action but it was comforting. “You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for. I would never force you.” 

“I really appreciate that.” 

The rest of the night, you and Minho got comfortable with each other again. It wasn’t hard. Minho was such an easy person for you to open up to and relax around. You watched a drama while your kids played, pausing it whenever they’d come out to show you something they’d made. 

Bedtime went smoothly too, and as you both got your children ready for bed, you couldn’t help the thought that this was what it would be like if your family was complete. Briefly, you wanted that completeness with Minho. You pushed the thought away. You couldn’t be thinking things like that. 

“Goodnight kids,” you said softly as you turned off Haru’s bedroom light and turned to leave the room. 

When you turned, you saw Minho leaning against the doorway of the bedroom, watching you, a gentle smile on his face. You liked him there. In your apartment. Watching over you and your son and his daughter. Everything felt right. It felt natural to have him there, to have his daughter there. You felt like a family. 

You left your son’s bedroom. “So, you can sleep in my room and I’ll—”

“No,” he shook his head, “I already set up the living room for myself. I don’t mind sleeping on the couch. You should sleep in your own bed.”

“A-are you sure?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Okay…” You watched as he started toward the living room to settle down for the night. “Goodnight, Minho.” 

“Goodnight, yn.”

You didn’t know where you were. Everything was dark, but you could hear someone talking somewhere you couldn’t see. There was a pinprick of light far in the distance—two of them, actually. They reminded you faintly of headlights. They seemed to be getting closer to you. You felt rooted in place, heavy, unmoving. 

They were headlights. It was a car. It raced towards you—the lights grew. There was a long, loud honking, like someone was just continuously pushing down on the horn. Your head hurt, something akin to anxiety grew in your chest. The car was closer now, the horn was louder, the lights hurt your eyes. 

You wanted to move—to get out of the way—but you were stuck. You thought the car would hit you, but it swerved at the last moment and as it passed you, you caught a glimpse of the man behind the steering wheel. When your eyes met his, you felt sick to your stomach. 

It was him. 

You could feel yourself screaming but no sound was coming out. You screamed your husband’s name but you couldn’t hear it. Your feet still felt like they were stuck in quicksand. You wanted to run to him, to save him, but you couldn’t move. 

“Yn?” 

The voice of an angel. You couldn’t see him. His voice calmed you down, though, you tried to stop screaming, tried to find the angel who was saying your name.

“Yn!” 

You sat up, gasping. You brought a hand to your face and realized your cheeks were wet. You were shaking and that’s when you realized you weren’t alone. 

“Minho?” 

“You started screaming,” he said softly, one hand on your shoulder and the other rubbing soothing circles on your back. “The kids are still asleep but I woke up. You were dreaming. But you’re home. You’re safe.”  

You were home. You were safe. And you were with the angel. Minho.

“I’m sorry.” You felt small under his gaze. You knew he wasn’t judging you, wasn’t upset with you, but you couldn’t help but feel terrible for worrying him and waking him up. 

He brushed your hair out of your face with the hand previously on your shoulder. His eyes were tender. Your heart clenched painfully. “Don’t be sorry. You can’t help that you had a bad dream.” 

“Yeah, I guess.” 

“How are you feeling now?” 

“Honestly…” You sighed, and leaned into his touch a little, subconsciously. “I’m still shaken. I don’t think I can sleep again.” 

“Do you want to talk about it?” His voice was still soft and you scooted closer to him on your bed. Something about him made you feel comfortable—at ease. 

You shrugged and sniffled a little, wiping the remnants of your tears from your cheeks. “What can I say, it was about my ex-husband.”

“You don’t have to talk about it if you’re not willing. But if you need to get it off your chest, you know I’ll listen.” 

“I think maybe I should talk about it, I just… don’t know where to start.” 

He continued to rub your back, pulling you close to him. “Start at the beginning.” 

“We were high school sweethearts.” You smiled a little at the memory, leaning your head against his shoulder. “We dated all throughout high school and I knew I wanted to marry him. He proposed to me a couple weeks after we graduated and we got married not long after. Even though we were married young, I still wanted to get my education so I could get a good job and help provide for my family.

“We were both almost finished with college when I found out was pregnant. We were both over the moon. I graduated with my degree and he did too and then Haru was born not long after. Both of our families were thrilled also. And you know, he was the best father. He loved Haru so much and he was so good with him.”

You paused for a moment, swallowing thickly and willing the tears away. “It happened unexpectedly. Haru was only a few months old. My husband stayed late at work one night and on his way home, he was hit by a drunk driver. Neither of them made it out alive. So I’ve just been… raising Haru on my own.” 

Minho was quiet. He didn’t want to interrupt you. He didn’t want to invalidate the pain you were feeling. You looked up at him and the tears fell from your eyes again. He wasn’t pitying you, like you had thought he would. Everyone always pitied you when they found out. But Minho… he just looked sad. 

“I am so sorry you had to go through that. But you know what? You are so strong. It was a horrible situation to be thrust into, especially so young. But you’ve proven how brave you are. You’re such a good mom. It’s hard to do it alone, I know. But you’re doing so well. And you’ve come so far.” 

You cried harder. How did he know the perfect thing to say? How was he so perfect? You felt like meeting him was a dream and you were going to wake up from it all too soon. “I’m so worried I’m going to mess it all up. What if he doesn’t grow up happy?”

“He’ll be happy. He already is. He loves you so much.” 

You laughed a little to yourself and wiped your tears again. “God, what are the odds I’d meet you? How do you always know what to say?” 

“I’m just telling the truth,” he shrugged a little, but you caught the smile that gleamed on his face despite his nonchalant attitude. 

You sighed a little and closed your eyes. “I think I’m getting tired again.” 

“Okay.” His voice was soft and he ran his fingers through your hair soothingly. “Do you want me to go?”

“No. Stay?” You looked up at him, pouting a little to convince him to stay. You didn’t know it, but he didn’t need any convincing. All you had to do was ask him to stay and he would do it in a heartbeat. 

“Okay.” 

You laid down, pulling him with you. He laid with his arms wrapped around you carefully. You closed your eyes and relaxed in his arms. “Thank you, Minho.” 

“Of course.” 

Minho listened for your breathing to even out, still stroking his fingers through your hair to soothe you. When your breathing was soft and even and you were completely still against him, he spoke softly. 

“I think I’m really lucky to know you. I didn’t think it was possible for me to love anyone romantically again after my ex. I just… I was prepared to spend the rest of my life alone, taking care of Jiyeon. I would’ve been fine with it. Until you. Now I want more than anything to have you. To have a family with you. You’re a great mother, you know that? Haru is lucky to have you. I hope someday I can tell you this when you’re awake. For now, I’m not brave enough. There’s so much I’m afraid of. But I think I’d be willing to step into that fear if it meant you were waiting for me.” 

You didn’t tell him, but you were still awake. You smiled a little to yourself, your own thoughts of being brave enough to confess lulling you to sleep. Wait for me. Soon enough, I’ll be brave too. 

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💭my baby

pairing: lee minho x gn!reader

an: some hurt/comfort for you guys !! please remember its okay to cry and feel down, your emotions are valid<33

“hi honey, what’s up?” you heard a familiar voice on your phone. “can i come over?” you asked in a weak voice, sniffing and it startled minho a bit, since it was pretty late in the evening. “of course. did something happen?” “i don’t wanna talk about it. i just wanna be with you now,” you said, more tears spilling from your eyes. “where are you?” “on my way to your apartment.” “did you take a taxi?” minho said in a firm tone. you didn’t answer. “yn, please tell me you’re not taking a walk here at this hour.” you could hear something rumble in the background, as if minho was looking for something. “where are you?” he asked again. “near the train station…” you finally whispered, knowing that it was useless to lie to him. “alright, sit somewhere safe, i’ll be there in 10 minutes.” “no, you don’t have to pick me up. it’s okay, i can just walk,” you uttered. after all that happened today, the last thing you wanted was to be a burden to your boyfriend. “well, it's too late because i’m already in the car. stay there and wait for me.”

after a few minutes you saw minho’s car stopping at the parking spot next to you. he was quick to get out of the car and hug you tightly. you broke down in his embrace, feeling all the emotions escape you. minho placed his hand on the back of your head and stroked your hair a few times, rocking you gently in his arms. after a long while you finally broke the hug and looked minho in the eyes. he took your hand in his and squeezed it reassuringly, leading you to his car. he was acting so soft and caring that it caused you to cry even more, especially when he fastened your seatbelt for you. he whispered something along the lines of “you’re my baby and i’ll make sure you’re safe.” then he drove you to the nearest convenience store, buying you all the food you wanted and then finally after the terrible day you were able to cuddle with your boyfriend, slowly but gradually forgetting about all your problems.

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