JEALOUS CHANHEE RAHHHH - Tumblr Posts

“date me instead” “She has a date with me tomorrow” “you’re my boyfriend” DO YOU WISH TO KILL ME BE FR RN RAHHHHHHHH ‼️‼️MY HEART IS PALPITATING SO BAD AJDHEBANSBSJWWSVS I LOVE THIS SM.

Also um. CRYING I DID NOT EXPECT THIS??? I CHOKED ON MY MATCHA WHEN I READ THIS (i’m at a cafe)

ALSO U ADDING MY LIFE EVENTS IN THIS FIC IS TAKING ME OUTTTTT. Delusions have never been this bad istg. ISTG 😭😭😭

Also him skipping the couple skate and watching her solo freestyle is so him like. (petty ass mf)

I CANT BELIEVE U AND @heemingyu (my parents‼️🥲) WERE FOOLING ME INTO BELIEVING THAT ALLY WAS MY SECRET SANTA THO. AT THE END OF THE CALL I WAS FULLY CONVINCED IT WAS ALLY BC OF U TWO… ( @winterchimez r u seeing this rn these two were full on convincing me it was u… )

Conclusion tho: i love it im rereading it so much everyone i know needs to read this RN. ( to everyone following me. This is ur sign )

the warmest winter | tbz choi chanhee | new

​PAIRING » tbz choi chanhee (new) x fem!reader​ TROPE/AU » ​childhood friends to lovers, fake dating au, non-idol au!, high school au! GENRE​ » fluffy fluff with a touch of angst, reader is a skater!, chanhee is very jelly of juyeon (hehe), but also chanhee is just jealous in general hehe, fake dating (i tried my best ahhhh), juyeon makes an appearance as jealous chanhee's rival WORD COUNT » 5805 ESTIMATED READING TIME » ~21 mins WARNINGS (lmk if i missed anything!) » very inaccurate depiction of skating in general (writing this made me miss skating...), very fast proofreading (twice)

navi/masterlist!! 🤍

hi @astrae4 !! yes, i'm your secret santa!! 🤭 sorry (not really hehe) for tricking you into thinking otherwise 🫢 it was very cute and funny to hear you say "it's definitely not you" when we were on call 🤣 had my camera been on, i wouldn't have gotten away with it 😫 just to let you know that @heemingyu was also playing along too (thanks for that and reading this, honey bee!) 😁 don't be too mad, dek! 😭 i'm innocent—

There are many good things about having a best friend who has known you since you were in diapers. 

For you, the funniest reason would be how you would dead stare him across the room, with the straightest and plainest face, him directing one back at you. It sends the others into a fit of confusion, worries and frustration as none could ever figure out what’s in the duo’s minds. The chaotic reason would be that you would both wreak havoc together. Like that one time during the last day of primary school when you both decide to fill up thirty water balloons to their full capacity and throw them to any of the teachers in the outdoor field, fearless of the possibility of getting in trouble as graduation was around three hours after. The embarrassing reason would be that Chanhee would come to cheer you on your sport, luxuriously with his branded clothes from all his hard work, holding his big handmade slogan to support you as you glide across the ice to your routine. He would always get an earful from you after but he got his karma when you came in, dressed in highlighter yellow, sitting on the front row seat to his singing performance. 

It’s the day that everyone has realised that the two of you are menaces to society. 

The comforting reason, and is one of the biggest reasons why you two are still stuck to the hip after a decade, would be that when your lips are pouted, eyes glistening with tears, hugging your knees to your chest and whimpering your worries in the night, Chanhee would sit beside you wordlessly. Patiently waiting for you to cry your feelings out, patting your back rhythmically as he sometimes let time pass by scrolling through his phone, occasionally showing the funny reel on his screen to get you to join in his laughs. For him, the moment of calmness when you both would hit the breaks to your chaotic lives would be the best ones too with Friday nights becoming obligatory ‘brake time to get a break from society’ which can sometimes be too much.

But this Friday is a bit different. 

Your final skating competition before you graduate high school is coming up in less than a month and despite the nervous butterflies growing in your stomach, you’re still very much excited to participate. You’re somewhat confident that you’ll do well, especially with all the experience that you have and the achievements and trophies that show off your hard work. But all of that didn’t stop you from agreeing to the voice in your head that tells you to put your blades on and just bask in the cold. Feeling nervous is a given but you have to believe in yourself that you can win this scholarship to your dream university. 

The blades of your skates glide smoothly across the new ice sheet that has recently resurfaced once more. This is the second time that you had to step out of the rink and it shows the duration that you’ve spent without thinking much. Even when the doors to the public were closed, through your coach and her connections to the people who work at the rink, you were able to stay for even longer. Staying on the ice also meant that you were separated from your phone, leaving everyone on delivered for another two hours. 

But Chanhee knows your habits, driving to the ice rink and pushing the still-unlocked front door to see you skating leisurely without a care in the world. He smiles warmly behind his blue scarf, delighted at the little smile and satisfying self-cheer when you land correctly, scratching the ice with your achievements once again. Silently, he sits down on one of the benches, going on his phone but still occasionally looking at your dancing figure once in a while.

You don’t know how you missed a whole hour of another person’s presence—or maybe it’s because you’re so used to and comfortable with him that you don’t notice him—but you literally almost trip from the ice and the edge of the ice rink when you spot your best friend with his Hello Kitty beanie that you gifted him this year for his birthday.

“Slow down.” He tries to hold his laughter when you let out a puff of air, annoyed at your clumsiness. “You should come eat. I’m sure you forgot about that.”

The mention of food and the familiar takeout bag from your favourite place brightens your face, the corners of your lips lifting immensely and you kick off your shoes, tiptoeing in the cold and wet puddles to quickly fill up your stomach after a successful practice session. 

“Knew I could count on you.” 

“Duh.” He rolls his eyes playfully. “I feel so bad for your stockings, I swear.” Commenting on your slightly damp black fabric. 

The only response he got was the way you rub the watered part onto his pants, him shrieking and sliding himself away from you on the bench, only for you to of course follow him. In the end, when he reaches the end of the aluminium seat, he only groans and tells you off, giving an empty warning that he’ll never pick you up and buy you food ever again. When you put your tongue out, making a funny face to him, his cheeks blush hues of red and pink in the dimly lit seating area—you didn’t see it though as you were too focused on the flavours bursting in your mouth. 

When you fully focus back on your food once again, leaving him in his little world, Chanhee buries his lower face further into his scarf, away from your field of vision. He leans a little bit back to make sure he can just admire you without being too obvious. His heart flutters when his mind replays back to your mischievous and cute face, and the way you didn’t mind being so close to his face—though he was freaking out about it all. 

But how could he ever tell you? Because he can’t even explain to you when he started to fall for you. Was it that time when you ran to him at primary school, winging about how you needed a friend to get ice cream? Or that time when you stayed by his side and continued to support him when he hit the hard times while he was preparing for his first performance in high school? What about that time when you would just lay on his shoulder and listen to his worries, completely understanding his thoughts, never judging him through words or facial expressions?

He can’t even make sense of it to himself. Let alone with you.

“I’m annoyed.” Your voice trails off in the big area but it reaches his ears easily.

Judging from the way your feet kick the air and the accommodating tone of your voice with your words, Chanhee’s lips pull into a straight line. “Another one?” followed by a deep chuckle and a frustrated sigh from you. 

“It’s not that funny, okay? You know I’m bad at rejecting…”

He ponders the thought behind your words, nodding as his memories play the series or tears after politely and in some cases, not as kindhearted, rejecting the ones who made an advance for you. When asked why those tears were showing, you commented how “it didn't feel right” and alternatives to “he didn't feel at home. He likes me because of my appearance. He's never even talked to me!” 

Chanhee wishes that it would never be like that for him. But it's okay, for he would never tell you his feelings for you anyway.

The realization weighed deeply in his heart, resonating hurt throughout his entire body. He glances over at you, hopefully discreetly, with how much love he could give you at any time. Impulsively, acting with a tinge of jealousy and possessiveness, the suggestion curled out from his tongue without another thought.

“Date me instead.”

Your feet stop kicking the air and both of your bodies are now stiff with widened eyes, as if the cold finally got to you guys.

“What?”

It sends Chanhee into a momentary faze and the blush on his cheeks spreads through not only his face but his entire body.

“Fake!” 

“HUH?”

“Like, fake dating!”

Then the implications behind his words finally sink into you. You didn’t realise this before but the idea does seem great for someone like you who has been trying to get people off your case. It’s tiring, especially when you can’t find a proper connection with either of them—none of them was better than your connection with Chanhee.

“For once in your life,” Your hand gives him a firm pat on his shivering shoulders, “you have come up with a great idea.”

Playing off the slight hurt in his heart, knowing that from your words that you didn’t see him anymore than just friends, Chanhee bravely flashes you a smile. “Do you want to or not?”

“...what’s the catch?” The growing grin on his face tells you everything. “I know you, Choi Chanhee. There’s no way something as taxing and effortful as dealing with me, has no catch to this agreement. Tell me!”

“The catch is,” he takes off his scarf, exposing the lower half of his face to you. Carefully, he wraps the dark blue material around yours, no longer seeing the exhaling white air, “that you get to listen to whatever I say.”

Adding a little touch to this, he bops the tip of your nose earning a deep grunt and shove from you but your hands still held on to the top edge of his scarf, enjoying the familiar scent and warmth that came from it. 

“Does that soothe your chaotic mind?”

“Mhm.” You hum in agreement, feeling your neck loosen from all the tension from the previous regular meetups that you both will have. Especially with you being so busy the entire time, it was nearly impossible to meet up with Chanhee unless he was the one going all the way for you. 

“Nothing will change.” Chanhee shrugs. “We’re just…us. Everyone is already thinking that we’re dating anyway so the only thing that'll change is more hand-holding and all that.”

“No kissing!”

“W-Wha--Of course not!” This time, you were shoved back. “Who wants to kiss you anyway? You literally drool in your sleep!”

“Hey!” With each growing rebuttal, so did the echo that bounced within the walls, “Don’t say that! You know how lonely, I am! That’s so mean!”

The laughing boy didn’t do much to ease you, just sticking a tongue out at you. He did, however, reach out to hold your icy hand. It made him frown, the little mountain growing on his lips. Suddenly, the gap between your body closes with him wrapping a secure hold of your waist. Confused by the sudden proximity, you let out a string of stutters as you look up to see him already staring at you.

“W-What are you…doing…?”

“We’re dating now.” He shrugs nonchalantly, “You have to get used to this.”

“No one is here, Chanhee.” 

He has never been one to initiate skinship. It has always been you cuddling up to his side like a koala, clinging and dragging him to every single place that you wanted to go.

“J-Just…leave me alone and let me hug you.” And he did. Your upper body twists to completely face him and your chin goes over the scarf to rest on his padded jacket. The height difference is why he had to bend to your figure, basically slumping over you but neither of you minded. With a clear of his throat without another word or action, he lets you go, stands up and asks for your hand. “It’s too cold. Let’s go, I’ll drop you home.”

“Wait Chanhee…” 

You drag the last syllable and the hand that reaches out for you slowly lowers. Chanhee sighs, knowing that it can't be good judging from the tone and the way your lips pull sideways.

“I need to rant about my upcoming duet routine.”

“Oh.”

He remembers the first time when you did perform once with someone else. Of course in group work, your effort and contributions matter just as much as theirs would matter to you. But your first (and what you hoped to be your last) partner ruined all potentially happy thoughts about performing with someone else. It sucked that even though you both did win a place at the podium, the stress and effort of basically choreographing at least ninety percent of the routine was not worth the bronze medal on the podium.

For a short while, it killed you to be on the ice and you refused to even step back there without a pressing reason. You're thankful that your coach has always been an understanding one because if she wasn't, your career in figure skating would be shredded at this point. Chanhee did help too, reminding you of the joy and laughter, even making himself borrow some skates from his friend. It led to bruises and him face-planting into the pile of snow but at least he got to see the way your eyebags disappeared over time.

That's more than worth it for him.

“You'll be alright.” He reassured first, kneeling to get into eye level with you even though yours is downcasted. He knows that your mind would go back to the past. “You got a shit partner but you'll be fine. I promise you that you'll do better this time.”

“I hope…”

“Who is it with this time?”

Despite breathing the cool air whenever you could, you could never get enough of it. 

“Lee Juyeon.”

Something inside him stops. Time didn't though because from his peripherals, he noticed how you stood and skipped your way down to the ground floor, patting your outfit dry as if some sort of ice or dust had dirtied it. He hears your announcement, shouting that you will get your things ready from the back room and miraculously, he lets out a croaked answer in return.

Lee Juyeon. 

Everyone in school loved him, Chanhee included. Most wanted to date him, others wanted to be him while the remaining loathed the way he was perfect in every way. In short, Lee Juyeon is the total opposite of Choi Chanhee. 

He prefers to spend his days quietly in the library alone while Juyeon prefers to attend parties. While Chanhee would be in his bed sleeping in the morning, Juyeon would be taking his daily morning run before rushing back home to shower and get ready for the school day. When Juyeon would be in his weekly student council meetings, Chanhee would eat ice cream at that nearby restaurant, basking in the sweetness after a stressful day.

This unfamiliar feeling sends Chanhee into a slight brain freeze when he imagines you both not only close physically but the fact that you will be near the perfect boy for the majority of your time—and the fact that he won't be able to spend time with you because you'll be busy with other priorities—makes the green feeling inside his chest grow with the devil snickering inside his head. He was still so deep in thought that he didn't even notice you wave your hands infront of his face despite having his eyes seemingly on your face.

“It's almost midnight.” You say, opting to drag him out of the building with a hold of his clothed wrist. “Daydream later, loser.”

Oh, you're so right about that. And he's in deep trouble about it all. 

What he didn’t truly prepare for, however, is the number of times that you would leave him on delivered, responding to his messages from the beginning of the day to the end in one go, buzzing his phone repeatedly when he’s doing his final skin routine before sleep takes over him. He’s still understanding, knowing how the competition is important for you. At least she still answers me back right? He reassures himself while throwing the face mask away, the cooling air on his face suddenly turns his mind back to the short ‘date’ from the other day. 

He still remembers the pink checkered shorts that you paired with a simple button white long sleeve. Your hair is freed in the wind, taking the scent of your shampoo—to him. The struggles of keeping his palm dry when it’s around yours, and the bigger struggle to keep his skin neutral void of any redness whenever he catches a glance of your smile.

“Once more!” You plead, handing your phone back to him after switching back to the camera app. 

Despite the roll of his eyes, he’s thankful that the device hid his face from yours, even if it’s only a while. He focuses on the screen and your figure, arguably more than the technology. He directs your poses: hands collecting your hair into a bun, looking down at your feet while the other shot is one of you puckering your lips, looking to the side with a quick peace sign.

Both became his lock and home screen using the excuse of making the relationship more believable—we know more than that though.

It fuels his hate for himself and Juyeon when he texts you that he finished the final part of the routine, asking if you’re free to test it out with him.

After that, school was the only place where you would exchange smiles, stick out tongues, share food, hugs and even kisses on each other’s cheeks, Chanhee only found himself in deep trouble. The public display of affection did make other boys leave you alone, gulping and scurrying away in masses when he would throw them a side glare, his hand on your waist tightening his hold each time. 

It would drag your attention to him, whenever he does that. Such a new feeling, yet fluttering and intimate. You would clutch the loose fabric of his shirt, hand once relaxed on his chest. Brown eyes would run over the creases of disgust and the lines of fury across his usual soft, kind face. Whenever you would ask him for a peek inside his mind, his eyes would quickly turn to the ones that he would usually show whenever he would laugh and nag you to put your upper body back inside his car in the late-night drives. Or when you would do your night routines together every single time, without fail—for your information, it’s been two weeks since then.

Sure it’s all for show, but two weeks ago when he proposed the idea, it seemed that nothing had changed for him and even though he’s glad that no one is crazily chasing after you anymore, it hurt that he feels like he’s been abandoned by you. Heck, he hasn’t even taken you out for a ‘date’ yet. Friendly date, ‘fake’ date. The label that you would put on it didn’t matter much for him as long he took some of your time.

So now, with the owl hooting outside his window, dressed and ready to sleep with his Hello Kitty pyjamas, something is telling him to pick up his keys from the handmade bowl that you both messily painted as kids, go for some drive-through to pick up your favourite food and drive to the ice rink.

The sight that greeted him when he did reach his destination caused the paper cup in his hand to spill all over the rubber of the ice rink. The low-pitched clatter stops the laughs that erupt from you and the male who had his arms wrapped around your waist, his defined chest pressing comfortably against your exposed back due to your outfit, is the one who straightens his back first, noticing the painful gaze from outside the rink.

But again, Juyeon is everything Chanhee isn’t. 

The way that Juyeon let out that signature ‘oh’ of his with the sickening way that he hollers a greeting to the envious boy, not even bothering to throw a discouraging comment that would hurt his pride and would then rightfully give a reason to hate him that has a glad upturned smile on his face, Chanhee would’ve run straight back to the door that he opened excitedly before. Just like your skating partner, you also let out an ‘oh!’ at his presence and he couldn’t help but think that now, Juyeon isn’t taking away his time with you anymore but also the way you speak. 

Leisurely gliding your way towards the railing of the enclosed rink, the anterior side of your forearm rests, your feet still making little circles on the part of the rink that wouldn’t usually be given that much attention to professional skaters like you.

“Having fun?” It came out more venomous and spiteful than he thought. Even his eyes widened slightly in fear, seeing a similar look in your eyes. But he maintains eye contact with you, the paper of the takeaway scrunching rapidly under his hold.

“I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone. See you tomorr—”

“She has a date with me tomorrow.”

“Wait, Chanh—”

“Right?”

It’s so impossible to miss. Not with the way that maybe if Chanhee blinks, the normal act could’ve probably sent his eyes into a newfound breakdown that he has been trying so desperately to hide. Especially not in front of Juyeon, he’s not about to cry now. 

Your chest raises, inhaling the stuffy air to your beating lungs. Lips parted to start speaking your thoughts and Chanhee watched with a more definite crease between his eyebrows as you could only articulate the sounds of some familiar words, unable to audibly tell him anything. For what seemed like forever, you both just looked at each other. You tilt your head every single time your best friend directs his attention away to his house slippers back to your eyes. Beneath the tough exterior that he’s putting on, it’s easy for you to see how something is troubling him. 

The first one is his attire. Unless you were in a life-or-death situation, there is no way Chanhee would stain the white satin button-up and long pants. There was one time when you were begging profusely for a late-night snack and spontaneous hangout but even then, he just nodded and hummed into the phone, telling you that he needs to “keep the white pure, away from the sins of the outside world.” 

Juyeon quietly leaves the scene, hand giving a tight squeeze before disappearing for the night.

“Let’s sit down?” You offer, uncertainty clouding your judgement. 

The bench awaits patiently for you, the jacket lazily slopped over it. You’re so tense and unsure about the situation that even taking the steps up the dry stairs was so quiet—more silent than the shaking exhales that the puff of coloured air made due to the cold. Your fingers brush against the fine hair of the material but you didn’t put it on yourself. The tips of your hair flip around to see your best friend not even anywhere near the bottom step, still frozen in the same place as before.

Knowing that you won’t be in the mood to skate after whatever confrontation and conversation you’ll have with him, you pack your bags, slipping off into comfortable shoes for running—if you really have to. Chanhee’s bangs fell over his eyes easily with the downward tilt of his head, a miracle that his neck wasn’t cramping right now. From the shadows on the ground, a long line goes over his head and his shoulder lazes a new heavy material. The body part tries to shake the warmth stubbornly but a click of your tongue is what stops Chanhee from flopping around like a dying fish.

“Did you know my dad used to be in the mafia?”

It’s supposed to take you both out of this challenging atmosphere but you know that even though his eyes are hidden because of his posture and his grown strands, he isn’t going to return the playfulness. The strap of your backpack is the only one that knows your nervousness, croaking due to the leather material, your nails probably engraving this moment into its skin.

“Juyeon…huh?” 

A broken laugh comes out from you, eyes wandering to the background space around his head area. Has the wall always had that crack on the wall? Oh…how is the fly surviving in this weather? Is it raining outsi—

“Do you like Juyeon?”

“W-What?” Why did the question hurt so much to hear? “I’m dating you, Chanhee.”

“I don’t think anyone believes it to be honest.” He shrugs, adamant about staying focused on the topic. “I just wanted to know,” His eyes dart around the place, anywhere but to you, “wanting to know if you’re part of the ninety percent of our cohort that likes him.”

“Oh.” It was out of nowhere but being suspicious isn’t the right word to describe it. It was more to curiosity as to why Chanhee would just ask such a thing all of a sudden. “I do think he’s attractive.” You shrug leisurely, unaware of the screaming in his head. “He’s a good partner too.”

Chanhee tries his best to mask the growing ache in his chest, blankly nodding. “He is your type after all.”

“I have a type?” One of your eyebrows rises, “I didn’t even know that myself.”

“Right…” Finally, the food is shoved into your chest, just like how it’s always been. If so, then why did it hurt you when he told you, “Date him then.”

An immeasurable kind of clench was made by the muscles around your heart.

“W-What?”

Thank god you changed shoes because he stormed out right after.

Your phone also became silent, no more life was given to Chanhee. What annoyed you most wasn’t the ‘good’ news that spread to the boys but the fact that he would make it so obvious that he hated you whenever you would make your presence known to him.

“Talk to him after this.” Juyeon encourages you, handing your bottle of water from his hand.

“I can’t.” You huffed. “He treats me like a plague.”

You quite literally cannot have this in your mind right now. The competition is in a few hours and you messed up both of your rehearsals for tonight. The slight pain that throbs from your lower palm will be, you swear, used to slap someone who truly deserves a wake-up call. As the sun rose each day for the past week, it also burnt along your hopes that Chanhee would talk and ease your worries so that you could dance freely, marking your perfect twirls on the ice that shines along with you. 

Juyeon’s eyes relax, sending you a slumped smile with half-lidded eyes. “Does he know about tonight?”

You did indeed send him a message about today but you’re doubtful that he would come. You even tried bribing him with free food but maybe the boy knows that your anger might turn to something more, saving himself from your hits and complaints. 

But you’re just unaware of what he’s truly trying to save himself from.

The sunset marks the start of the open doors. Relatives, schoolmates, acquaintances and even strangers bustle through with their appropriate clothes—including a young girl with short sleeves that you are sure would throw a fit to ask her mother for a jacket—all gathered to support the skaters, especially those who have university representatives to impress.

With the cute bright pink mittens, the waving hands catch your attention quickly. You send a quick wave back to your sister who waves the supportive banner she made, along with your parents who gave you thumbs up, placing their hands around the circumference of their mouth to shout and holler at you.

It’s all so awesome.

But it would’ve been perfect had someone else come.

The realisation makes your heart drop. Chanhee has always come to all your competitions without fail but this one, when everything is on the line. Before you have to completely push your phone away, your thumbs search for his contacts, automatically just checking in your recent section. Even though the relationship between you is ambiguous, you couldn’t find it in you to change his name which implies a romantic title for him.

It seems right.

It seemed that no one should have that title but him.

Your eyelids collect as much water as they can before it spills onto the phone screen. It seemingly glitches the words on the glass, distorting your spam messages for him. “Just come…please…” you whisper before texting him the same exact words that you just said.

But he decides to crush the final hopes that you ever had in him, leaving you on seen once again. The familiar shout that gathers all the players rings through your ears and Juyeon’s figure behind you also tells you that it’s time to push Chanhee aside for now.

“He’s not my boyfriend, Ju…” The truth spills out and even though the boy has things to ask, he decides to let you rant before going. “But I want him to be.”

You know this now with the distance he puts between you. 

It’s suffocating. 

More than dehydration. More than the minus temperature. More than the scratch on your hand.

“I just want him, Juyeon…” Beads in your eyes, shaking lips and true feelings. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He nods, wishing the best for you. “I knew that my feelings wouldn’t be reciprocated.” 

It lifted off a weight in your chest, knowing that Juyeon’s reassurance that you would both still stay friends. You both sway beautifully on the ice, balancing and leaving the audience in awe, judges in amazement and competitors in envy. If there is one thing you can take away from this, is that for you, being on ice with someone else can truly be fun. You both promise to meet each other on the ice next time, in the future, professionally and relieve this perfect teammate chemistry once again.

And now, you’re shaking your limbs, trying your best to ease your nerves.

Still no sign of him.

You force your neck to look down, just focusing on the marks of the moulded plastic and leather, plunging the front spikes of the shoes into the floor.

“That’s…going to make a mark.”

That voice.

The one that could ever stare at you with a blank stare and contain his laughter. The one that would leave others in fear whenever a sinister smile and wiggling of eyebrows would be sent to each other. The same one that stands beside you, taking the blame alone when the drenched teacher finds you both.

The same one that would usually sit by your sister and make the banner with her, splashing on extra glitter and Hello Kitty stickers. The same one that would lend his luxury brand accessories, not getting mad if you accidentally broke it.

It propels you forward to his already half-opened arms, waiting for you, always reserved for you. Just as you promised to yourself, Chanhee takes the hits on his chest, listening to your words and letting his clothes seep your cries.

“I know, I’m sorry.” One hand encircles your waist from behind, the other patting your hairsprayed scalp. “I won’t lie that I skipped the one you did with Juyeon but I know your parents recorded it so,” he shrugs, “but I’m here for the main performance. Yours.”

Your small chuckle made him do the same. “You’re not wearing a stupid outfit.”

Chanhee hums. “I thought I would be a very supportive friend and won’t embarrass you for this event.”

“Boyfriend.”

“W-What?”

“You’re my boyfriend.”

It leaves him in a daze but he knows that you weren’t joking. To him, his gulp seemed a bit loud but maybe with the way you slowly left his arms, you might’ve missed it. 

“I love you, Chanhee.” Your eyes searched for rejection but all he did was blink at you rapidly. You took this as a sign to keep going. “I think I always have and you being idiotic just made it clear to me.”

“O-Oh…”

“D-Do you—” You shake your head, waving your hands the same way to him. “Actually don’t tell me! Let me skate first. J-Just watch me…”

When was the last time Chanhee has seen you so flustered? It leaves him breathless and his heart soaring and he knows within himself that he wants to be the only one to ever put you in that state. He gives a nod, a smile plastered on his face. You thought he would join your parents on the bench but he stays near the entrance of the rink, giving your lower back the lightest touch, whispering you a final message before you enter the spotlight.

The message rings in your ear the whole time. The music suddenly fades but every time you could catch a glimpse of Chanhee, you know that he didn’t say it for you to feel flustered and fail. 

And fail, did you not. 

The reward on the podium with a gold medal hanging around your neck sends you many obstacles of representatives who want you to join the team. But they could wait.

Just like a few minutes ago, your arms circles his neck, pushing Chanhee’s lips to your own. A few seconds before your lips meet him, the boy lets out a little ‘hmph’ before he softens, his eyes closing in the same time and way yours does. The way the cold replaces the warmth of his lips leaves you both chuckling even when he momentarily pushes you away to save himself from the tickles that you gave his waist. But once again, the words that he whispers against your shy lips remind you that his eyes have always held the same love that you have given him and the way your lips move passionately in sync with his, tells you that he wasn’t playing around with his words.

With your heart.

With you.

“I love you,” he tells you with his lips.

The motives behind his proposal with this whole fiasco become clear and the redness on your face is no longer due to the energy-consuming routine that you just performed. It deepens when he gives you his mittens, slipping them through your fingers and messaging each one with care. It deepens further when he lends you a fabric to keep your throat healthy so that you can confess to him again. It deepens even more when he realises that you’re shivering after the adrenaline of your sport drains you and he wraps his scent around your uniform.

“Thanks for making my winters warmer.”

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