Tbz Fluff - Tumblr Posts

• enemies 2 lovers with sunwoo 🎁❗️😎

• when younghoon gets soft 🎁❗️😎

• boy next door 2 lovers with eric 🎁❗️😎

• merry xmas with tbz’s hyung line! 🎁❗️😎

• merry xmas with tbz’s 98 line! 🎁❗️😎

• merry xmas with tbz’s maknae line! 🎁❗️😎

• changmin talking to his idol crush! 😎

tried to make it open to if you want to be in a group or a solo artist haha!!! sorry for the lack of posts i have been mentally recovering 😭

for the super lovely anon who requested it <3!! thank you for the support 💖❗️

• happy new year with maknae line! 😎🥳🎉

• happy new year with 98 line 😎🥳🎉

break your rules

[social media au]

member: changmin (q) genre: fluff synopsis: being long-time friends means keeping boundaries. but turning friendship into love means crossing lines. are you and changmin willing to break the rules? will it be worth it?

release date: may 2, 2021 updates: every sun-tues (3 times a week)

ask me to be added to the tag list! :)

Keep reading

Masterlist

Welcome to my masterlist 🤍

I will try my best to stay on top of it and update it whenever I post something new xoxo

Request status: CLOSED

Works in the making

Fluff= 🧸

Angst= 🥀

Smut= 🔥

Enhypen:

Heeseung:

I forgot 🧸🥀🔥

The locker rooms 🧸🥀🔥

Jay:

Mornings with you 🧸🔥

Jake:

Gimme attention 🧸🥀🔥

Sunghoon:

Work up a sweat 🔥

Please like me 🧸🥀

Sunoo:

Jungwon:

Don’t call me cute! 🧸

Forgiveness 🔥

Under the blanket 🔥

Niki: (fluff/angst only!!!)

Enhypen NSFW links - minors DNI‼️

Stray Kids:

The Boyz:

SCREAMING AND CRYING THIS IS SO CUTE

millennium bug – e. sohn

pairing: eric sohn x fem! reader

genre: 90s au, twenty-five twenty-one au, brother's best friend au, childhood friends au, fluff, slice of life, coming of age. older brother! sunwoo. essentially just eric being baek yijin. oct-nov scenes inspired by weak hero class 1. no plot just vibes im sorry

warnings: minimal swearing and thats all lol

word count: 19k

a/n: posting a fic for a new fandom is always so scary pls be nice to me deobiblr bc im literally abt to cry. also yes i am calling this a 2521 au bc the plot is so heavily inspired it might just be one. a special thank you goes out to @csenke for dragging me into stanning this group i am enjoying myself 🤞

there are some pros and cons to not having friends growing up. cons: you're always forced to tag along with your brother and his group wherever he goes. pros: his childhood best friend is kind of hot.

JUNE OF 1999

Being Kim Sunwoo’s younger sister is no bed of roses sometimes.

Sure, you get the occasional excitement of having him bring you rollerskating with you down the hill or the ever so rare moments of him defending you in front of your mother when you two have done something wrong (while never saying he was in on the bad act as well, of course), but more than often, you are met with his disgusted looks and insults whenever the two years older boy passes by your room and casually bangs at the door just to spite you.

His snarky looks are especially ones to remember. Maybe it’s because he offers them to you often– much like in this very moment, completely unprovoked, and completely not by your fault.

“But mum–”

“I already told you, Sunwoo,” your mother looks at him with a stern look in her eye, the one that makes chills run down your spine, “you can go if you take Y/N with you.”

“But nobody’s bringing their sister! Mum, come on–”

“Take it or leave it, young man.”

And see, your brother may be 19 years old, but he’s still in need of getting permission to leave the house if it includes an overnight stay. It’s an unspoken rule he always follows, since he’s usually granted the right to leave, but the result of his conversation was different than what he expected this time. And see, you may be just two years younger than him (one year left until you are an adult), but even though your mother is too busy to take care of you and entertain your slowly adultling self on most days because of her highly demanding job, she always makes sure that you don’t stay alone for long, and that’s exactly why (you realize, contrary to your brother) she insists on making you tag along on Sunwoo’s trip to the beach house with his friends.

The male grunts and turns on his heel, not giving your mother another response– and with this, you know she won. And that means you’ll have to pack your bag soon, because you know that there’s no way Sunwoo would miss going to the beach house with his friends– even if it meant making his little sister tag along.

And sure enough, Lee Juyeon’s minivan pulls up into your driveway only a few hours later, and the sound of the honking outside is enough for your older brother to aggressively drag you outside of the house, shutting the door behind you and hollering an angry “Bye mum!” to your mother. Your figure is handled with the least amount of care possible as you’re thrown towards the white van, the door opened and 5 heads already peeking out with expecting eyes, waiting for your brother’s arrival.

“My mum made my stupid sister go with me, so I hope we have space for one more,” Sunwoo huffs as he throws his bag into the trunk, slamming it with more force than was necessary (boy does he know how to throw a scene), an encouraging voice of none other than Juyeon– the driver himself– landing in your ear. 

“Sure, just hop in!”

With that, your feet finally unglue themselves off the ground and bring you into the vehicle. You’re familiar with his friends– since a scenario like this hasn’t happened for the first time and you had to spend your fair time with Sunwoo’s circle growing up, mainly because you never really had many friends yourself. You’re not close with any of them, though, and you’re sure you haven’t seen half of them for ages. 

Lee Juyeon is the responsible one of the group. You’re comfortable with the fact that he’s the driver, since you’re not entirely sure if you’d trust any of the other men in this space behind the wheel (you fear the day your brother gets a driver’s license. You'd bet a million dollars that he’ll die while driving recklessly one day). Next to him on the passenger’s seat is Choi Chanhee, his best friend, carrying a map in his hands and twirling it in all possible directions to get his friend on the right track. In the three-seat behind those two is Ju Haknyeon, Ji Changmin and your brother himself, and in the very back of the whole van, almost in the trunk, you’re sat next to Eric Sohn– your brother’s childhood best friend.

“Hi guys,” you offer a greeting to all of them, settling into the uncomfortable leather seat (that’s peeling off, just by the way), watching as the rest of the men pay you no mind and ignore your voice, falling into a comfortable conversation with each other.

Sighing, because this always happens– your brother gets too annoyed because he has to bring you with him all the time, and you imagine his friends aren’t fond of the fact either– you settle deeper into the seat and cross your hands on your chest, looking outside of the window. You can’t imagine enjoying your trip now, since you feel like you’re a nuisance, a child they have to take care of (yes, it embarrasses you just the tiniest bit, you have to admit. Although, you do enjoy getting out of the house from time to time), and the fact that your feelings were probably more than justified and also true has you pouting, an unsatisfied feeling weighing at your lungs.

“Hi,” a voice resonates from your side, the sight of a smiling Eric peering at you taking you off guard. You didn’t expect anyone to react to your greeting– not so delayed anyway– and the sight of your brother’s best friend carrying on in the conversation with you has you shocked beyond belief. “Excited?”

Finding yourself hum in agreement– how much you are still excited for the pool and for the sun, you’re not really sure– and although you are upset, something about his open and nice demeanor has you visibly relaxing, the sparkles inviting themselves back into your eyes. “I’ve never been to the beach,” you admit, seeing Eric gasp at you in surprise.

“Really?” he asks. “I go every year with my parents.”

“Well,” you hum, “you know how my mother is…” you sigh, chewing on the inside of your cheek. It’s easier to joke about it than to actually let the fact get to you– with your mother being the main news anchor, she is too busy to actually go on trips and form bonds with her own children sometimes. That’s why you spent most of your childhood at Eric’s family’s house in the first place– this is what made you the closest with Sunwoo’s same aged friend. His parents were nice enough to let you stay over and have sleepovers whenever your mum had to leave suddenly and take week-long trips abroad, or have emergency shifts during late evenings. 

Eric hums, sympathizing with you. “Well, at least you get to experience it now!”

“Yeah,” you awkwardly nod, playing with the hem of your jean shorts. It’s the shorts you made yourself by cutting the legs off your favorite pants after you grew out of them and they got too short, and they’re starting to look a little worn-out now. Maybe you should beg your mum to get you some new clothing.

The conversation between the boys grows in volume, doing nothing to help you to relax in the crowded vehicle. You can’t really find a place to fit yourself in and talk, the topics too unfamiliar for you and the feeling of not even being welcome in the discussion sitting heavy on your chest, when a finger bears itself to the flesh of your thigh, making you snap your head around to gape at the source of the contact. Eric looks at you with a boyish grin, sparkles evident in his eyes.

“Wanna see something?” he asks.

“Sure.”

The male digs around his backpack, hands searching through the contents of his bag for only a couple of seconds– since he’s the neat one, contrary to your messy brother– before he takes out a small gadget: a square with a little screen on top, a silver, circular button space sitting big in the very middle of the device. Eric throws the thing into your lap, smiling when you take it into your hands and examine it with curious eyes.

“Have you seen one before? My dad got it for me last week,” he boosts, satisfied with your reaction to it. 

Your mother’s job pays quite well– meaning that you usually have the latest gadgets, the latest trends– but if you’re being honest, you haven’t seen one of these in real life before. Yes, you caught a glimpse of an ad for it in the town center, on one of the big billboards while passing by to get to school in the morning, so you know that it’s an MP3 player, but still; this was your first time touching one and examining it in real life. 

“How does it work?” you ask, watching as the boy scoots from his seat to the middle one, so he is now sitting directly next to you, before he takes out wired headphones from the first department of his backpack and turns the little square over in his hands, finding where the jack goes.

“You put those in,” he says, plugging in the headphones, “and then you press this…” he explains, taking the device out of your hand and pushing on the power button for a few seconds, “and then it should play.”

Watching him with expecting eyes, the boy finally puts the MP3 player back into your hold. Then, his fingers swiftly put the respective earphones into your ears– like you’d do to a little kid that has no idea how they work, making you a little flushed at the action– and after that, you’re left with the sound of an unfamiliar song playing in your ears, making the sound of the chatter in the van completely tune out. Eric keeps on watching you, a sense of pride in his eyes as you nod at him, all excited with the new explory, before he takes one of the earphones out of your ear, grinning.

“Cool, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “The song is good,” you dumbly say, watching as the boy next to you pridefully nods at the compliment, resting his back against the car seat. 

“It’s the H.O.T album. My dad says they’re good,” he mumbles, moving the headphone he took from you and placing it into his ear, making you nod at him in acknowledgement. The action has your insides bubble with disappointment, thinking that the fun is over as you reach for the other earphone as well, offering it to the male.

Eric looks at you with a shocked pout, shaking his head. “No, we can share!” he says, pointing towards your ear. “If you want, of course.”

The action has you smiling, a shy nod escaping out of you as you reach and put the earphone back into your ear, letting yourself fall deeper into the car seat, listening to the song from Eric’s MP3 player. You’re grateful for his presence– he didn’t have to keep up a conversation with you. He could ignore you, just like the rest of his friend group always has. Maybe it was something about the two of you growing up together that always made the boy at least a bit more affectionate towards you than the rest.

You spend the car ride to the beach house with Eric leaning on your side, listening to music and his occasional blabbering about how his previous days went. 

Somehow, you're glad the seat beside him was the only vacant one when you arrived to the vehicle.

YOUR SEVENTH BIRTHDAY, 1989

You don't quite remember when you met Eric for the first time, if you’re being completely honest. The first memory you have of him is of your seventh birthday party, although you’re almost certain the boy’s been present at some point of your life before– at one point, you think you saw a picture of him and Sunwoo, two chubby toddlers, watching you as you laid on a blanket on the ground somewhere in your photo album. As far as you’re concerned, he may as well have been there when your mother brought you back from the hospital– although you think he must have been too young for that back then.

The first memory you have of Eric Sohn is the day you turned seven– a gloomy, sad day that in the moment, you prayed you wouldn’t have to remember in the first place.

It was already established that while your brother is the social butterfly, you don’t have a big friend group. Actually, you could count the number of your friends on one hand, and since the amount wasn’t as big, your mother allowed you to invite them all over to your house to celebrate your birthday with you. 

She baked a cake, she decorated the living room, hell, she even took a day off from work– something you deemed special, for it doesn’t happen often– and as you sat on the floor of your living room, the cake standing proud on the small coffee table, waiting for your friends to arrive, you hummed a song under your breath, the clock slowly passing the time you agreed for them to come over and celebrate.

At first, you didn’t mind it– everybody gets late sometimes, it’s okay. It was just a birthday party, and you had a lot of time. Not everything had to be set on schedule.

But the closer the clock moved to being one hour, than two after the time your friends were supposed to come, you grew worried. Your mother’s nervous pacing around the living room and her heavy sighs as she sat next to you on the floor, smiling at you in what you can only explain as sad way made you more and more anxious about the fact that you only had three friends, but all three of them seemed to not care enough to come celebrate your birthday with you. And as your mother finally took the final bow in the form of a soft hand on your inner thigh, her tone gentle as she called your name– “Y/N, I think we should light the candles,” you began to tear up.

You were supposed to eat the cake with your friends. You were supposed to hear them sing the birthday song to you. You were supposed to turn on the radio and dance around with your classmates, eat the sweets and unwrap the cheap, but heartfelt gifts they brought along with them to celebrate your birthday. 

But none of these scenarios were happening, and you felt incredibly, incredibly lonely and sad. Forgotten, if you will. Not cared for, definitely.

Hiding your face into your hands, you started to cry. This disappointment was too big for your small heart to take, and you no longer cared about the cake, the candles, the seaweed soup your mother cooked for you to celebrate, the gifts, or the party. All you wanted to do was hide in your room and never come out– something about the whole situation felt deeply embarrassing, and to this day, the moment before the whole day turned around still makes you feel a bit ashamed of yourself. 

Too busy crying, you didn’t notice your older brother watching you with big bambi eyes, a worried glance sent your way each time your sobs grew louder and louder. And maybe the boy only wanted to taste the cake (he’s been bugging your mum about it since the very morning, but he was always sent off with a scolding look telling him that he’ll get a slice when everyone arrives), but no matter what his true intentions were, his actions still managed to pull your seventh birthday party together in a way you never imagined.

The sound of the front door faintly resonated in your brain somewhere in the middle of your aimless sobbing, but you paid it no mind, thinking it was just Sunwoo going out to the yard to kick the ball. See, your older brother had never really known what to do when you cried growing up– it didn’t matter if he was the reason for your tears or if anyone else was. If he was the reason for your emotional outbursts, he tried to shut you up with his palm and get you to stop crying before his mother found out and gave him a scolding, but if someone else was, the small boy sometimes turned angry at the source. Kicking his classmate that once made a snarky comment about you and made you tear up or punching his friend when he was too harsh with you was all he knew to do in these situations, so he wasn’t the one to comfort you with words or hugs. It was only natural for him to escape in this situation.

You were brought to a state of shock and surprise when a hand landed on your shoulder, a familiar voice breaking you from your emotional turmoil.

“Why are you crying? We have to eat the cake!” you heard, your big, sad eyes meeting the small figure of the boy living next door, your brother nervously stepping from one side to the other right behind his best friend. “Can you light the candles, Mrs?” Eric politely asked your mum, pointing towards the cake waiting sadly at the coffee table, the figure of your mother leaving your side only shortly to get the matches from the kitchen and illuminate your face with the small flames.

Confusion mirrored your features as you watched your brother and his best friend sing the birthday song to you while your mum lit your candles, both boys clapping and dancing around, acting silly just to get a laugh from you. You didn't know how Eric got there, but you guessed there are some good sides to having him as your neighbor. The energetic boy did his best to brighten up your mood a bit, and when you blew out the candle, making a wish, Sunwoo even went as far as smashing your face into the cake to bring in the full birthday authenticity.

That got him a slap to the back of his head from your mother, as well as made you stand up from your position– no longer making you look like a disappointed bulk of pity– and chase him around the room, icing falling off your nose to the laminated floor. You got your revenge and smeared the chocolate all over his forehead (he let you chase him down only because it was your birthday and he really, really hated to see his sister cry, but he won’t ever tell you that) and as the three of you sat back down to the floor, watching your mother slice the cake and offer it to you on small white plates, you realized you suddenly weren't as sad anymore.

“What did you wish for?” Eric asked you, mouth full of cake and face messy with chocolate.

“I can’t tell you,” you hummed, eyebrows furrowed. “Then it won’t come true.”

“You probably wished for that doll you saw in the store the other day,” Sunwoo snickered as he swallowed, having you glare at him and send a sharp kick to his shin, unwatched by your mother (thankfully), as the boy fought you back, having no mercy.

Music suddenly filled the room as Eric stood up and put the radio on, his 9 year old brain smart enough to know how the device worked, his small figure dancing away to the songs playing on the single radio station you could play without carefully sorting out the antenna so it faced the north, and truly, you didn’t know how it happened, but it had you standing up and dancing around, exactly how you'd imagined doing with your friends from school.

The day wasn’t ruined– quite the opposite, really. It was one of your favorite birthday parties, and ever since then, Eric was invited to every single one you had after. And while Sunwoo may act like he doesn’t hate anything more in this world than having a younger sister, every time you feel like a burden to him, you remember this very afternoon.

You will never tell anyone what you wished for that day– but just to let everyone in on the secret, 

it was to somehow, just like Sunwoo, find someone like Eric for yourself as well. 

JUNE OF 1999

Standing at the side of the pool, eyes squinting from the inevitable force of the sun, you’re starting to regret your decision of coming along just a little. See, you usually don’t protest whenever Sunwoo aggressively drags you around and brings you everywhere he’s supposed to, because even though you love to see your brother angry (especially when you’re the reason behind the emotion), you’d also hate to see him miss out, but now, as the scorching hot sun is having no mercy on every exposed inch of skin– and believe me, there’s a lot of it, since you’re wearing your swimming trunks– and the sweat on your forehead is no longer culminating in beads, but rolling painfully slowly down your forehead, you do admit you’d be a little bit happier in the shade of your little room than here, watching the guys play volleyball in the comfort of the freezing cold pool.

And as the only female around the house, you settle with the patriarchy and bring out a small folding chair and a camping table alongside with a big, sharp knife, struggling to hoist up the giant watermelon you got in a grocery store on your way to the beach house, with the intention of cutting it and serving it to the guys later. Who knows, maybe they’ll like you a little more after that. 

The knife sinks into the thick green skin of the watermelon easily, and so as you accompany yourself with the excited (and not so excited screams coming from the losing side of the game– mainly your brother himself), you cut up the fruit into halves, then quarters, and as you stare at the moon crescents settled on the camping table, you decide to play nice and cut up the fruit into smaller triangles as well, to really get on everyone’s good side.

The yearning for male validation awakes in a woman pretty early on in life. It’s an inevitable misfortune.

“Told you Sunwoo’s all talk but no game!” you hear Haknyeon yell out as the game seemingly ends, the younger boy lunging at him in the pool, fighting him for the truthful words. Glancing at the commotion, you notice the guys slowly getting out of the pool, making you heave out in victory– you’re finally gonna have your turn in the pool. Well, if they don’t decide to occupy it again before you even get a chance to get in.

“Y/N! You cut up the watermelon?” Eric asks a very obvious question, walking up to you with beads of water all over his half-naked body. His dark hair is damply sitting against his forehead, making him look like a wet puppy, but as the male gets closer to you, he drags his palm through the locks and pushes them back, revealing his forehead– a sight sweet to your eyes, but you refuse to pay it much attention in the heat of the moment. It’s just the sun making you delirious as the idea of finding him attractive flashes through your brain, that’s all. 

“I did! Take one,” you smile, watching as the rest of the guys walk over to your little stand– while also obnoxiously swatting out water out of their hair like dogs, refusing to use towels like normal people– and finally, there it comes: appreciative smiles appear on their faces as they each take a piece, biting down on the fruit with delighted sighs.

Sunwoo walks up to you with a surprised look on his face, sighing as he messes with your hair. “If I knew you’d be our servant, I wouldn’t have even minded you going in the first place.”

“You do something nice for people and they jump on the chance to exploit you,” you hum, shaking your head in disbelief. “That’s just like you, Kim Sunwoo.”

“No, that’s just me having older brother privileges.”

“I hope you choke on that, you know,” you bite at him, pointing towards the piece of sweet watermelon in his hands, the smile on his face turning bitter. There’s a satisfied look on your face when your brother does, indeed, choke on a watermelon seed a few seconds later– and they say dreams don’t come true.

“You didn’t have to,” you hear Eric speak up from the other side, your head turning to face the male, his features appreciative and warm. “Thank you,” he beams. There’s redness on the tip of his nose and his forehead, signaling his quickly approaching sunburn, and you can’t help but laugh out at his clueless, Rudolph the red nosed reindeer self. 

“What’s so funny?” he asks, furrowing his eyebrows at you in question.

“Nothing,” you peep, “you just look like you forgot to use sunscreen,” you mumble, watching as the male gasps and touches his face, a horrified expression overtaking him when the skin under his fingertips burns to the touch. 

“I didn’t forget! It must have rubbed off in the pool,” he mourns, “I must look stupid!” 

“Only a little,” you tease, a grin overtaking your features. See, there’s something about the fact that you’ve known Eric for the entirety of your whole life that makes you more prone to teasing him– you’re familiar with your dynamics and just how far you can go, so his next actions startle you just the tiniest bit as the male looks sternly at you, throwing the half-eaten watermelon slice to the camping table. You thought you had the risks calculated– apparently, you didn't.

“What did you say?”

Examining his features, seeing no signs of anger– just the stoic, fakely-offended face of your brother’s childhood best friend– you shrug. “That you look a bit stupid with your face like that.”

“Oh, okay,” he nods, “you’re going down for that.”

“What do you mea–”

Your words are cut short when the male lunges at you, his arms enveloping your thighs and holding you up. The contact of his cold skin from the pool and your heated figure makes goosebumps appear all over your body, your hands instinctively reaching around him to support yourself as he walks closer to the pool– his intentions are suddenly painfully clear and you start to panic. 

“This will teach you to respect your elders,” Eric huffs, the turquoise surface of the water slowly coming into your point of view.

“Stop! Stop-stop-stop,” you squirm, kicking your feet and trying to take down the predator, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, alright?”

The male takes a halt for a split second– making you foolishly believe he’ll let you off– before he breaks out into a devilish grin and continues to walk to the edge of the pool. “Too late.”

“Eric!” you scream, the volume of your voice resonating through the whole beach, your heart thumping wild against your ribcage with the awaiting process. You’re not even sure what you’re scared of anymore– you can swim and you bet the water will feel nice against the scorching sun– but still, you’re absolutely terrified as the male has no mercy on you, carrying you steadily towards the water. “At least let me tie my hair first! You can dump me in after, I promise,” you mourn, trying to buy yourself more time.

“Alright,” he nods, waiting at the very edge of the pool, leaving you to take the purple scrunchie off your wrist and gather your hair together, preparing to tie it into a bun so it doesn’t get in your way when you’re in the pool. The hair tie is just at the tips of your fingertips, the first loop over the hair ready to be done, when a scream cuts out of your throat.

The feeling of falling suddenly overtakes your body, leaving you no time to prepare yourself for the impact of the cold water against your skin and all up in your nose, since you didn’t pluck it when you were dumped into the pool. The fall only lasts a split second until you’re below the water, the force of it resonating in your ears, and when you finally act on your instincts and stand up in the pool (it wasn’t even that deep in the first place, only reaching to your upper stomach), you cough out all the water and pray to gods you don’t throw up chlorine into the freshly cleaned pool. After you’re done catching your breath and getting oxygen into your lungs again, you do your best at getting all the hair out of your face. 

There is laughter landing into your ears as soon as you manage to get all the water out of them by leaning your head to the side and violently slapping each one, and when your eyes look up, you see an amused Eric Sohn bending over in his waist at your disheveled appearance. 

Grunting and pointing a finger to the criminal that almost made you drown, you huff out. “I’ll kill you! Just you watch.”

Your scrunchie nowhere to be found, forever lost somewhere outside of the beach house, you think, as it flew off your hand in the impact of the attack, shock makes your figure shake alongside of the coldness of the water, making you audibly sigh. 

Yes. You do regret coming along just a little.

JULY OF 1999

Somewhere along the way, Eric Sohn starts acting as if he’s your second older brother. Sure, you’ve known the male your whole entire life and he’s seen you grow up, but it took him 17 years of your life to come to a point where he gives you equal amount of attention whenever he’s over at your house than he does to your brother, and even asks Sunwoo if you’re coming along with them whenever they leave to hang out somewhere else. It’s a change that comes naturally and slowly, and you welcome it unknowingly– the revelation shocks you on a hot summer day, though, when the idea finally comes to you in full force.

You would even argue and say Eric acts more like your brother than your actual sibling does– he asks if you’ve eaten and listens to you when you talk (which Sunwoo never does, well, except from when he’s arguing with you). Eric even compliments your outfits sometimes and lets you borrow his MP3 player from time to time– Sunwoo would never share his things with you, no matter how hard you pleaded and threatened to tell your mum. Yes, your brother's an adult and you’re one year away from becoming one– you still resolve your conflicts through your only parent, though. Some things, you never grow out of.

“I wanna try using the skateboard now, Sunwoo,” you order sternly when the boy finally reaches your destination. You’ve been sitting on the sidewalk for quite some time now, since your brother and his friend decided that they’re gonna try out their new skateboards on the hottest day of the year. Your town doesn’t have fancy skateparks and ramps like the ones you’ve seen in the music videos on TV, so you don’t really know what initially made the two buy those things, but you do admit that even driving up and down the road in front of your house does seem a little fun– so much you’d love to try it.

“What a shame we all wish for things we can’t have,” he shrugs ironically, shaking his head at you from his position above. The male reaches down for his bag, taking out a water bottle and putting it against his plush lips, all while you glare at him from below, still seated in your initial position. Eric comes up to you two, squishing at the soft plastic bottle in Sunwoo’s hold, making the water splash your older brother in the face, leaving a winning grin to be shared between you and the shorter boy, an expression that makes you all warm on the inside. See, at least Eric always has your back.

“You can try mine, if you want,” the latter shrugs, offering you a smile.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he nods, “why not?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug, “I just didn’t expect you to offer, since as you saw, my dear brother just refused when I asked…” you mumble, standing up from the sidewalk and taking the skateboard into your hand. Eric offers it to you with an outstretched arm and watches as you put the board on the floor, squinting at it with much examination.

“Do you know how to ride it?” he asks.

“No,” you shake your head, “but I mean, if Sunwoo can do it, how hard can it really be?” you joke, seeing as the said boy glares at you, finally finishing his water and dropping the bottle to the ground. 

“I’ll remind you of that statement when you eat shit on the pavement,” he shushes you, rolling his eyes. 

Not paying more attention to the grumpy being that is your own brother, you relocate your attention back to the skateboard on the heated road. You’re lucky you live on a street where cars don’t often drive by, since your neighborhood is on the very edge of the town, so you don’t really fear being run over by a pickup truck. What you do worry about, though, is your lacking sense of balance, which you discovered when you learned how to ride the bike for the first time. While your brother was a professional in no time, it took you weeks to get it right, and so with the idea of riding a board that provides you zero sense of security, you get a bit worried for your own life.

Dragging your hair out of your face and aimlessly trying to tuck it behind your ears– there’s no use in trying though, as the strands slip out just as fast as they found their place– you keep staring at the board only a few centimeters away from your feet, mentally calculating your next move. There’s a noise of a backpack being opened and rustling around in the background of your miserable thoughts, and when you look up to see what’s going on, you notice Eric offering you a small, purple bundle of fabric. 

“What’s that?” you ask, even though the answer is clear as the day– you recognise your own scrunchie with no problem. You’re just surprised to see it in his hold. You thought it was forever buried somewhere in the beach house, since you weren’t able to find it after you got out of the pool, no matter how hard you tried.

“Oh,” he shrugs, amidst a little too nonchalantly, “I found it and figured it was yours, but I forgot to give it back to you then… it seems like you need it now, though,” he offers you an explanation, lips pressed into a thin line that slightly signifies a smile.

“Ah,” you gasp, nodding as you take the hair tie out of his outstretched palm, gathering your hair into a bun and tying it up on the crown of your head– the staring contest you’ve been having with the board is much clearer now, when you don’t have your messy strands in the way. The idea of Eric keeping your scrunchie after finding it at the beach house makes your stomach do a weird kind of turn– you guess it made you a bit weirded out, if you’re being honest.

“Want some help with that?” he asks, pointing towards his skateboard.

Nervous, cracking your knuckles as you meet his eyes– he looks a bit amused, but still genuine– you nod, admitting defeat. There’s no way you’re getting on top of that board without help and not falling down. It’s always better to be safe than to be sorry, and so when Eric laughs airly at your composure and takes a few steps closer towards you, you let the male lead you, finding comfort in his secure words and actions.

Eric offers you his arms to hold when you try to get on the skateboard. He is peering at you from under his eyelashes when you put one of your legs onto the wood, his grip on your forearm getting firmer when you try to get your other foot on as well– and you must admit that you suddenly don’t feel like you might die anymore when there’s someone holding you and standing by your side. 

“See? It’s not that hard,” Eric mumbles, his voice low and reassuring from the proximity. You notice your hands sweating a little when his palm envelopes yours– damn the sun and its unbearable heat making you embarrass yourself– but he doesn’t mention it as he firmly holds you and meets your eyes. “I’m gonna drag you around a bit so you get used to it before trying yourself,” he says before taking a few steps forward, preparing to be your own type of personal driver.

Having him instruct you and help you around makes you feel more comfortable on the board. Sunwoo would never do such a thing for you– he’d enjoy watching you fall down and break your neck and possibly die– so you’re more than happy to have someone in your life that takes care of you in ways your older brother refuses to. 

The skateboard moves forward a little, starting slow, but then picking up speed as Eric jogs a little, making you laugh at the action. He does not have to go above and beyond, but he still does– but you guess it’s good for him to let out his energy somewhere. After a while, he looks back at you and meets your eye with a warm gaze, making you nod at him reassuringly and hold up a thumb of the hand he’s not holding right now, signaling that you’re okay and enjoying yourself. That has the male let go of your hand and let you take the road with the laws of physics, moving forward by yourself with the force he created. 

It’s nice. It’s fun. 

Yes, you totally understand why Eric and Sunwoo wanted skateboards after seeing them on TV. Hell, you want one now.

“Try it yourself now!” Eric encourages you as the board naturally comes to a stop under you, and his smiling face is enough for you to take initiative and nod, relocating one foot off the wood and placing it on the floor, then kicking it and making yourself move on the simple vehicle.

A moment of surprise envelopes you like a warm hug when you manage to not fall off and keep your balance, the joy of it making you try to go faster on the board, kicking once, twice against the pavement with the sole of your old, beaten up shoe. “I’m doing it!” you yell, glancing back at Eric standing on the sidewalk, watching you with excited eyes. The male offers you a victorious holler, something that makes you break into a laugh, makes your confidence blossom in marvelous ways.

Confidence rises in you so much you try to take a U-turn and go back to your teacher– perhaps showing off that you really got the hang of it now, or something– but as you try to maneuver the board and turn right, there it comes: the moment where you realize that you were, once again, too overly-confident in your abilities that are, sadly, very poor. Your body sways from side to side, your poor balance laughs at you and points an accusing finger at your attempts, and, well, to put it frankly, your whole life flashes in front of your eyes and the moment plays in slow motion as you lose the board from below your feet– the wood flying somewhere to the opposite side of the road, not at all where you meant to go in the first place– and your body inevitably comes crashing to the ground.

Awaiting the hard pavement meeting your nose and breaking it, you brace yourself with palms outstretched in front of you, the last remains of self-perseverance entering the sane parts of your brain in what you think are the last seconds of your miserable life. Another moment of surprise greets you when your yelp is muffled against something soft and your hands don’t hit the hard pavement, your ears filled with a grunt that belongs to another human swiftly chiming in and catching you before you fall.

Firm hands hold your waist– the touch somehow familiar, enveloping you in a strange sense of deja vu– and even though your body goes limp in terror, the male has you back on your feet in no time, his palms on the exposed skin of your stomach. The realization has you burning up as you look up and meet Eric’s eyes, gasping at the closeness of his face to yours. 

“You okay over there?” he asks as you unconsciously study his face– you never noticed his nose looked this nice up close– before you wake out of it and nod urgently, breaking away from his hold. You’re not gonna try to calculate the effort he must have put in just to chime in and catch you from where he was standing in such a short moment, but something about the passing thought of it has you weak in your knees from gratefulness. 

“Uhm- yeah,” you nod, kicking the pavement with your stained shoes, “I just… miscalculated my skills, that’s all,” you sheepishly hum, hearing the boy snicker at your shaken-up composure.

Watching him take off and retrieve his skateboard from where it wandered off against the curb– much to his golden retriever energy– you sigh and prepare to go sit back on the sidewalk, having enough of new experiences from the shock still lingering in your fingertips. You take a glance down the road, seeing your older brother cruising on the street– when and how he got there, you truly have no idea– when you hear Eric, who seemingly has different ideas for your next actions, call at you from the middle of the pavement.

“Where are you going? Come back!” he asks, having you look at him in surprise, mouth agape and eyes big, staring at him. He now has the board under his shoulder, but puts it back on the road and points at it, shrugging to himself. “I’ll push you down the road, it’s gonna be fun!”

“Eric, I’m literally going to die–”

“No, you’re not. Come on, I promise,” he says, but still, he doesn’t have you convinced. Your feet move against your best conclusions, though, and when you come to a halt right in front of your companion, he offers you a boyish grin. “Sit down on it, that way you’re more balanced. I swear you’re not gonna fall off, okay? I got you.”

“You promise?”

“Yes,” he nods, determined.

“Pinky swear,” you mumble, holding up your pinky finger– all thoughts of seeming childish pushed to the side in the desperate moment– and the male in front of you shakes his head in disbelief, breaking into a laugh.

“Cute,” he huffs, “yeah, okay. Pinky swear,” he nods, interlacing your pinky with his and bumping his thumb against yours, the seal foolishly making you feel more secure as you follow his order and take a seat on the skateboard, your hands gripping the bottom of the wood so hard your knuckles turn white.

“Okay, ready? 3, 2, 1–” he chants as he pushes you, two steady hands coming in contact with your shoulder blades, force making you move on the board, wheels taking you down with gravity. The sound of Eric’s shoes hitting the pavement fills your ears as you go faster, and as you finally get to the part of the hill that takes a downwards slope, he offers you a final push, sending you down the road. 

Wind makes your hair fly back, your surroundings blurring as you yelp and scream, but you can’t say you’re not enjoying the ride. Eric was right– it was fun, you liked it, and something about the gesture had you all warm on the inside. The breeze has you cool down a little in the summer heat, and the board continues to move even as you pass your older brother standing at the bottom of the slope, away from your trajectory. 

Body relaxing when the skateboard finally slows down, you let out a heartfelt laughter. Turning back and seeing Eric jog down the road with a humongous grin on his face, you offer him two thumbs up above your head, watching as he returns the gesture and makes his way back to the two of you on the bottom of the small hill.

The truth is, this was the day you realized Eric Sohn has always found his way to make you feel included and safe. 

You can’t help but feel grateful.

AUGUST OF 1999

“Sunwoo, you have to tie a knot here and then– no, you dumbass, you’re doing it completely wrong,” you mourn as you watch your older brother with a mess of thread in his lap, a focused scowl on his face. There’s a fan standing across from you, blowing cold air into your face, but you still feel yourself grow heated with frustration as Sunwoo just can’t help but not understand the art of making friendship bracelets. It’s not like you’re forcing him to do them– he was the one that asked you to show him how to, muttering something about offering one to his classmate Yeji once he’s back in school– so in theory, he should be putting in effort, no? 

Or maybe he is. Maybe he’s just… incompetent.

“I don’t get it,” Sunwoo hums under his breath, sighing as he leans against the sofa in your living room, the two of you sitting on the floor accompanied by his best friend squinting at you from the opposite side, a comic book in the latter's hand. The myth of men not being able to multi-task is quickly thrown into the bin as you watch Eric pay equal amount of attention to the comic book and the dialogue between you and your brother, and when Sunwoo seems to give up on the art of making friendship bracelets, his best friend can’t help but laugh.

“You’re giving up already? This is how you want to get a girlfriend?” you poke your brother to his side and take the threads off his lap, examining the mess of a safety pin and meters of yarn, all knotted up and not coming along in the shape you taught him to at all.

“It’s not to get a girlfriend, I just-”

“Sure,” you roll your eyes, huffing as you roll his poor attempt at friendship bracelet into a ball and throw it to the corner of the room, making a mental note to pick it up and throw it to the bin later. “You know what, just give her this one and pretend you made it,” you mutter, taking a bracelet you'd already made to demonstrate in between your fingers and throw it into Sunwoo’s lap, the older one catching it and examining it under his nose.

“That looks pretty good,” he hums, making you snort at his appreciative comment. The bracelet is pink and red, the colors just screaming romance and cute energy, which is exactly what a girl needs to be swayed by your brother. You can’t really believe a bracelet will make her swoop into his arms, because truthfully, with your brother’s face and manners, every living thing is keeping a fair distance, but hey, it doesn’t hurt to try, does it? Maybe his classmate is… majorly blind? That might do it?

“Of course it looks good,” you scoff, “that’s because I made it,” you nod, averting your gaze towards your lap, threading your fingers through the yarn you attached to a safety pin on your sweatpants to keep the growing friendship bracelet in place. 

“Then why is the one you’re making right now so ugly?” Eric asks, pointing towards the creation. 

Glancing up at the male slowly, mentally throwing all different kinds of curses at him for daring to talk badly about your craft, you huff. “What do you mean, ugly?”

“The colors… they don’t… they don’t really go together,” Eric sheepishly admits, scratching the back of his neck, quickly averting his gaze from you and gluing it back into his comic book. You think that if he doesn’t stop being a smart-ass and throw jabs at your artistic choices, he’s gonna have to protect his comic book with his own body– and you bet he’d do that, because he borrowed it from the library. The fees for damage are high.

“That’s just… not true at all,” you muse, but groggily take a look at the creation once again, but now, thanks to the remark, seeing it in a completely different way. Shades of orange, brown and purple stare back at you amidst a little disappointedly, and as you thread the yarn and make a couple of knots to end the bracelet, you can’t help but feel a pout growing on your face from the realization. Eric might be right. It does look a little bad…

“Whatever. Your taste is just bad,” you snap as you finish off the craft piece, unclasping the safety pin and sliding the bracelet off the inside, freeing it from the hold. Eric laughs a little at your frustrated state– similarly to what you do when you manage to get Sunwoo upset– and with that, you sigh and put the bracelet on the coffee table.

“I’m going out to the store to get some chocolates,” you say as you stand up, goal clear in your mind, “have fun, losers.”

“You’re still collecting the stickers from these?” Sunwoo asks, a mischievous smile growing on his lips. The teasing is inevitable and coming very soon, and there’s nothing you can do about it– you’re fully aware, which only further makes you want to escape the situation more quickly. Rolling your eyes at your brother’s antics, you move towards the door. 

“Yes, Sunwoo, I am. They’re cute and make me happy, do you have a problem with that?” you point an accusing finger at the male, having him shrug, tongue poking the inside of his cheek.

“You’re such a kid,” he huffs, averting his gaze from you when he lands the comment, the jab coming straight at your fragile heart.

“Okay, then,” you note, “I’ll just have my pretty and cute bracelet back, and you can get your girlfriend something else-”

The male quickly regains his previous composure, swatting his hands in hurry just to make you halt in your sentence. His eyes are big and his mouth is a little agape in terror as he tries to save his ass, plea written all over his face. “I was just joking! Don’t be so petulant… go get your cute stickers, they’re so fun!”

Humming to yourself, your face is tugged up into a victorious smile. “That's what I thought. So, as I was saying, have fun, losers.”

“Wait!” Eric suddenly calls for you, making you turn on your heel in the middle of your escape, eyes peering at the male. “Don’t I get a bracelet too?”

The request catches you off guard. There’s a certain kind of spark in Eric Sohn’s eyes as he asks the question, and you can’t really place it in any category, but it has you nervously shrugging at the preposition. You’re not really sure why Eric would want a bracelet from you, but to avoid confrontation and also the weird leap of your heart surely leading you into cardiac arrest, you only shrug and move back inside of the living room, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you scan the surroundings, searching for something.

“Sure,” you nod, taking the ugly bracelet off the table and offering it to him, “you can have that one.”

You hold a staring contest with the older boy for a couple of seconds, his head undoubtedly swirling with arguments and comments about the apparel of the friendship bracelet, but he’s smart– he must know the survival of his beloved comic book must be at stake. So, he only nods and smiles at you, outstretching his hand to you and nudging his head in its direction.

“Okay,” he hums, “tie it for me?”

A second comes by– a heartbeat, really– in which you chew on your bottom lip and gasp at the request, but still, you nod and come closer, crouching down to be at his level and taking the thread into your fingers. You wrap the bracelet around his wrist, making sure to leave a bit of wiggle room before you tie a knot, bringing the ends together, all while feeling the eyes of Eric glued to your face, watching every micro expression flash through your unsettling composure.

When you’re done, making a move to hide your hands behind your back and standing up, your limbs bump into each other and send an unspoken sense of electricity all through your body. The sensation is so strange you don’t meet anyone’s eye before you leave the room, yelling out a goodbye as you hurriedly open the front door and run out to get fresh air (it’s August, though. The air is humid and only makes your head spin more).

You clear your throat before you take off to the grocery store. It's only when you're halfway there that you realize you'd forgotten to bring your wallet with you. It's okay, though– you take this chance to walk around, regaining your casualty.

You bet Eric will take the bracelet off in a matter of a week.

SEPTEMBER OF 1999

The leaves start turning orange and the weather a bit colder when you become hyper-aware of your shifting composure whenever Eric Sohn is around. The way you feel heat rushing to your cheeks whenever he calls you cutie, a nickname he’s had reserved for you since you two were little kids, the way you feel weak in your knees whenever he casually brings his arm around your shoulders or when he bends down to tie your shoelace in the middle of the sidewalk. You don’t really know what those sudden changes are, yet, you feel a bit embarrassed by them whenever they take place. You don’t think it’s normal to feel this way around your brother’s best friend, and the more you hang out with him, the more you wish you read less books as a child– because now, you’re also hyper-aware of the title those feelings may have. 

Still, it only comes to you on one September afternoon– you wake up from blissful unawareness and jolt with the quickly opening pit in your stomach at the strange revelation.

“Eric! Sunwoo isn’t home, though?” you mumble, confused as you notice the boy standing on your doorway, a plastic bag in his hand and a red Nike jacket enveloping his frame.

“I know, he said he’s hanging out with Juyeon hyung today,” he nods, “I brought you something, though,” he says, holding up the bag and making sure you get a chance to see it, offering you a boyish grin.

“Oh?” you gasp, furrowing your eyebrows at the male. When you do nothing to invite him inside, he does so himself– slightly nudging you in your side as he passes your figure and enters your house. He acts like he owns the place, and by the amount of time he’s spent in your home, you’d think he does– he doesn’t, though. The only thing he owns is just a lot of audacity.

The male takes off his shoes in the entryway and walks his way over to your room– a surprising act, considering he’s spent the least amount of time in this very place– and when he’s sure you’re following his every move, he empties the contents of the bag to the middle of your freshly made bed. Watching as approximately ten items fall out of the plastic, your eyes widen with surprise as you recognise your favorite chocolate– the mini bars with stickers inside, the ones you collect and stick into your journal and look at in the middle of the night, giggling to yourself and kicking your feet at the adorable pictures in your make-shift collect book.

“Woah,” you gasp when the male looks at you, seemingly awaiting your response, and when he gets the wished outcome, pride overtakes his features, shrugging to himself.

“My mum got some for free because she bought a lot of cabbage for kimchi yesterday,” he explains, “I thought of you when I saw them, so I bought you some more.”

“I- you-” you stutter, emotions too big for your own good swelling all inside your fragile, little self, hands running into your hair and tugging at the roots to wake yourself up from the dream. “You didn’t have to!”

“We got them anyway, and I know you like the stickers,” Eric shrugs, scratching the back of his neck, completely ignoring the fact that he said he bought you some more, your heart skipping a beat at the sentiment. Clearing your throat, you tentatively take a step closer to your bed, gathering a bar of chocolate into your hand and opening it, taking a bite.

“You can have the stickers if you give me some chocolate,” Eric says close to your ear, almost as if he was creating a masterplan, to which you eagerly nod and plop onto your bed, moving the bars of sweets into one pile. As you continue to munch on the first one, you unwrap the sticker and look at it, praying to yourself as if you were checking if your lottery ticket was worth any cent– hoping you get a sticker you don’t own yet.

The image of a cute panda would cheer anyone up even in their darkest moments– not you, though, as you mourn and sigh, disappointment clear in your features. 

“What?” Eric asks, eyes big pools of worry.

“I already got that one.”

“Ah,” he nods, seemingly understanding– much to your surprise, “well, we got 9 more tries, let’s get to eating.”

Wrappers are rustling in your bed sheets as you and Eric eat the concerning amount of chocolate, gathering the stickers in a little pile on top of your notebook, promising each other to not look at the stickers as you go and just make a grand reveal at the end. Eric’s full cheeks are a sight you enjoy, telling him he looks like a squirrel– to which he sends a light flick to your forehead, telling you you don’t look much different– and soon enough, the nine bars left disappear from your plain sight (you only had 3 and Eric ate the remaining 5. He’s a growing boy, though, so you understand. He needs to get his undying energy from somewhere.).

“Ready for the reveal?” you ask, locking your gaze with Eric.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

With that, you get to the pile of stickers in the middle of your bedsheets. Looking at the first one, there’s a happy squeal cutting out of your throat, the image of an adorable yellow duck warming you up with euphoria. 

“You don’t have that one yet?”

“I don’t,” you nod, “this is just perfect.”

Eric nods and watches you with a certain kind of warmth in his gaze as you open up your notebook and stick the newest addition to your little sticker farm– or a ZOO, however you wanna call it. The next sticker from the pile is added as well– a brown, big bear– and the next one too, the most adorable colorful parrot slapped to the corner of your page. 

The rest of your stickers are the ones you already own, though– a displeased look takes over your features at the knowledge, but still, you can’t help but beam at the fact that you have 3 new additions to your collection, and they were a gift from Eric Sohn himself. Someone who doesn’t make fun of your childish habit. Someone who feeds your little interest, watches you with excitement in his eyes as you indulge. Someone not like your brother. 

Someone you could never see the way you see your brother.

“What do you do with the duplicates?” Eric asks, pointing to the sad pile on the top of your notebook. His figure is closer to you now, since he wanted to watch you stick the animals into your notebook, his crossed legs almost pressed against yours on the small bed.

“Well, usually, I just throw them out,” you shrug, “but since you’re here…” you muse, the idea plopping into your head like the newest discovery you should probably patent, peeling the back of one of the dog stickers off and swiftly turning towards your companion, mischief sparkling in your eyes.

You put the sticker on his left cheek, making the boy jump. “Hey!”

Giggling, taking another one of the stickers and pressing it to the middle of his forehead, Eric starts to fight you, your bodies wrestling on the bed. You don’t think he puts much effort into getting you off him– that, or he’s insanely weak– and in no time, his face is adorned with all different kinds of animals, his hair messy from tussling in your bedsheets. The image has you laughing before you realize you’re basically straddling him on your bed, his big eyes gaping at you from below, his appearance enough to make something in your brain short-circuit and make you leap off him, clearing your throat.

Heat rushes into your cheeks as you take a seat next to him, playing with your fingers. You pray for anything to come and ease the awkwardness you caused, and sure enough, today must be your lucky day. “Hey, look here!” 

You call for the boy as you swiftly take your polaroid camera off your bedside table– the one that belonged to your dad, the one you fought with Sunwoo about, the one your mum said was yours because Sunwoo is too careless with his things to keep it safe– and snap a picture of the puppy-like boy, laughing at the fact that now, you have the image of him looking dumb and covered in stickers forever. Or at least until he doesn't take it away from you– which he attempts quickly.

“Hey!” he yelps again, huffing as he lunges at you, trying to take the picture out of your grasp as you drop the camera into your soft sheets. Your feet take you to the living room, navigating through furniture, and when you don’t hear footsteps follow you, you think you’re safe– Eric does have a lot of energy, but chasing you around gets tiring for him quickly when he knows you'll never let him win.

Entering your room once again, prepared to find him on your bed like before, you’re taken by surprise as a shutter sound goes off right after you open the door, a polaroid picture taken of your face making you temporarily blind at the flash.

“Eric!” you whine, hating that there’s a picture of you standing shocked at your doorway now forever in the universe– not really caring that the boy just got you back with the exact stunt you pulled on him just a few minutes ago. Before you get a chance to blink out the blind spots in your vision caused by the flash and run after him, though, you feel him gently press you out of the doorway and slip outside, the sound of the front door opening and closing after him resonating along his slowly disappearing, amused laughter.

Serves you right, doesn’t it? 

Sighing, you shake your head and take a seat on your bed, the picture of the boy still in between your fingertips. You only take a look at it when your vision comes back to normal, and as the image of Eric covered in stickers, hair messy and cheeks rosy below the animal print comes into your sight, the revelation arrives the same second a starstruck smile plays with your features.

And with that, you’re absolutely terrified. 

Throwing the polaroid picture onto the bedside table and lunging yourself into the sheets, you scream into your pillow and wish for the feelings to disappear– because in what world does a crush on your brother’s best friend ever come to a happy ending?

OCTOBER OF 1999

Once October hits, you find yourself home alone more often than you’d like. Sure, you don’t mind having some me time to read comic books or watch the TV uninterrupted in the living room, but still– alone turns lonely pretty quickly, and somehow, you start to regret the fact that you’ve been relying on your older brother and his friends for so long instead of making some connections on your own.

Sunwoo started to play soccer at school– something is telling you that he might go far if he keeps it up– and that’s why he’s been stuck at practice every single day, coming home late in the evening all tired, but happy, so you’re not really complaining. Eric works in the little bistro downtown now, since he wanted to make some money and not rely on the allowance Mrs. Sohn gives him every month, and it’s not like you were that close to begin with, but the fact that the boy is now too busy to meet you is making your spirit fall just the tiniest bit. And with your mother always being at work, you find yourself alone in your room, laying in your bed and staring at the ceiling. 

Sometimes, you journal. About anything and everything, really. You don’t really think you’re ever gonna read back the entries once you’re older, since they would just be a reminder of how miserable and boring your teenage years really were, and that’s why you allow yourself to be authentic. On most days, you write about your assignments for school. Sometimes you bad mouth a classmate or two– gossiping with the diary pages, because you don’t really have any human beings to do so in real life– and seldom, you allow yourself to get into topics that evoke the slightest bits of existential crisis in you.

Topics like college. Growing up. Your lack of hobbies and social interaction with the outer world. The newly found crush on Eric Sohn…

Okay, maybe you do write about the boy with brown hair and dark eyes a little too often. You can’t help it, though– when he’s not giving you any new interactions to dwell on, you have to just pick apart the old ones. You think it’s a natural reaction.

And that’s exactly what you’re doing one October afternoon, the lamp in your room on, since the evening comes faster when the weather is colder, as you’re laying in your bed and kicking your feet back and forth, chewing on the end of your pencil. The sound of your doorbell resonates through the house suddenly and startles you, making you jump awake from your delirious delusions.

Mentally going through the list of possible visitors you could have– because it can’t be your mother or your brother, since they never forget to carry their house keys– you’re lost, not really finding any fitting candidates. Furrowing your brows, lost in thought and frankly, a bit confused, you plant your socked feet onto the wooden floor and walk over to the front door just in time for the bell to ring again. Scratching the back of your neck in nerves, thinking of precautions you could take for your own safety– since your front door doesn’t have a peep hole and you don’t want to open the door to a complete stranger– you clear your throat and yell over the door.

“Who is it?” you ask.

“Delivery!” a voice calls through the door, making you huff. 

“I didn’t order any food?” you yell back, confused. “Sir, there’s another house behind ours, sometimes the mailmen get confused and we get their mail. Maybe try there?” 

“The address is right, though?” the voice calls again, and somehow, it sounds kind of familiar… no, it can’t be, you dumb goose. You’re just imagining things because you’ve spent the last 20 minutes writing about the curve of his nose into your diary.

“There must be a mistake-”

“Come on, Y/N, open the door,” the voice on the other side mourns, the mention of your name making you jump, completely startled. The tone the man says it in is sweet like honey, though, so familiar in your ears, that you mentally want to slap yourself– so you weren’t dreaming. It is him.

Dragging your hand through your hair to smooth it down, praying you look at least a little presentable– although in your stained sweatpants and the Pokémon shirt you inherited from Sunwoo when he grew out of it, you doubt that’s even possible– you open the door and try to offer Eric a warm smile. “What are you doing here?”

“Food delivery,” Eric shrugs, pointing with his thumb in the direction behind his back, where his bike undoubtedly stands up against your gate.

“Oh…. but I already told you I didn’t order anything,” you mumble, confused. Studying his face– because a girl can indulge when she has the opportunity, am I right? – you notice his hair has grown a little longer, falling into his eyes. You bet it’s hard for him to see, but you must admit it looks nice, and you almost tell him, before you catch yourself and break away from the sentiment. 

The male snickers. “I know, I was just joking,” he says, “I did bring you food, though.”

“Why?” you ask, confused when he bends over and picks up a plastic bag off the ground, a container of food inside, the warmth of the contents making condensation appear all over the red sack. 

“We made this by mistake and it was just gonna be thrown out if nobody took it,” he shrugs, “and I figured you haven’t eaten yet– or if you did, you just had those cold kimbap rolls from the store– and I wanted to get some warm food into your stomach.”

“Ah,” you gasp, nodding at the explanation. It does explain the source of the food really well, but truthfully, it explains nothing about the fact why Eric thought of bringing you the food instead of taking it home with himself– he’s a foodie if you’ve ever seen one. The idea of him worrying about if you were fed or not is equally as strange and interesting in your head– still, you clasp your hand around the bag and take it, the smell making you involuntarily hungry. “Thank you.”

Eric only nods at you, a smile beaming at his face. “Well,” he sighs, “I’d love to stay longer and hang out, but I’m still on the clock, so…” he mumbles, taking a hesitant step backwards towards his bike, eyes never breaking contact with yours.

“Oh, right,” you nod, “that’s okay. Have a fun day at work!” you muse, watching him as he grins and finally retrieves back his bike, opening up the gate to your property and escaping, waving at you as he gets on.

“I’ll see you soon!” he calls as he rides off, your eyes following him until his figure disappears behind a corner, your ears buzzing with excitement and your lower lip trapped between your teeth with the innocent promise.

Walking back into the house, you grin as you close the front door behind you and carry the food into the kitchen. You quickly get the containers out of the damp bag, putting them onto the wooden table, and gasp when you find a sticky note on the very top one, a messy handwriting scribbled in a rush, but stuck to the food with care.

Eat well and don’t skip meals, Y/N-ie!! – Eric x

Not being able to battle your smile anymore, you decide to open up the containers and stuff your mouth with the food instead– only to find your favorite dish inside, staring back at you in what seems to be a dream that’s too good to wake up from. 

And sure, you are delusional, but are you delusional enough to believe that this wasn’t all a coincidence? You’re not so sure.

Still, you eat the food with feet kicking back and forth as you sit in the silent kitchen, the empty house no longer feeling so lonely. When you’re done, you throw the trash out– everything but the sticky note, which you glue into your diary a few minutes later, hoping to keep the memory forever.

NOVEMBER OF 1999

The world around you is dark as you step outside of cram school, your eyes are tired and your skin is prickled with goosebumps in the chilly air. You despise going to cram school, but your mother told you you have to– since you didn’t have any athletic features that could get you far in life like Sunwoo, you had to be good at studying, or else you won’t get into university. There was a lot of work ahead of you, but since you didn’t really have anything else to do in the day, you didn’t protest and went anyway.

The days are usually very long and you get off very late, resulting in you being tired almost all the time. When you get home, you undress yourself and change into your sleep clothes and doze off until the morning, when you have to wake up and go to school again– it’s an exhausting cycle, but you know you have to endure it for your own sake.

Walking down the steps that lead out the cram school building, you stretch your body and huff, cursing at yourself for the fact that you didn’t bring a jacket– you forgot that evenings get really chilly, and frankly speaking, you didn’t have much time to think when you were rushing to get ready in the morning. You’ll just have to get through it, you think to yourself as you walk in the direction of your house– the last bus to your neighborhood already left an hour ago, when you were in the middle of revising division– your sneakers kicking the stray rocks below your feet as you tug the sleeves of your hoodie lower, desperately trying to feel more heat.

“Do you never watch where you’re going? That’s gonna get you in trouble one day, you know,” you hear a familiar voice say, the joking tone making your heart skip a few beats as you place the owner of the saccharine voice to its face. Looking up, slightly alarmed at being caught in such a distressed state, you gasp.

“I was… watching my step, I guess,” you shrug as you come into a halt in front of him, shivering both under Eric’s gaze and the cold weather at once. “What are you doing here? Deliveries?”

“I just got off,” he says, “so I figured I could stop by. Sunwoo said you’re going to cram school, I thought you might enjoy some company on your way home.”

Gaping at his explanation, you nod, completely startled. The idea of your brother talking about you in front of Eric, the boy you have a very embarrassing, very big crush on scares you, to say the least. See, it doesn’t really matter that the boy grew up with you, pretty much seeing you at your lowest whenever he was around over at your house when you were both just little kids– the image of Sunwoo telling Eric about finding you sobbing at your comic book (the scene got too sad, nobody can really blame you) or about how your favorite jeans ripped right before you had to go to school one morning is terrifying. You don’t really want him to know about these things. He may act like your brother sometimes, but you never really saw him in that light in the first place.

“Well, then,” you clear your throat, “it’s… it’s good to see you,” you say. Eric shows you his boyish grin as your lips utter out the words, and you can’t help but mirror it, your eyes locking with the male. As if you just took a step back, your eyes see him in a light you’ve never seen him before– as if this was your first time meeting your brother’s best friend– and something about the sentiment has your stomach feeling all uneasy, heat rushing to your face. His hair is styled in a way that tells you that he didn’t really style it (or if he did, it looked truly effortless in your eyes, so props to him), pushed back a little and revealing his forehead, a few of the strands carelessly falling into his eyes. His jawline is sharper than how it was when you first met the boy, and with the realization of a foolish teenage girl, you have to admit that Eric Sohn grew up to be a very attractive, attentive man.

“You’re cold?” he says, although the sentence sounds more like a statement rather than a question, before he shakes his head at your antics and heaves out a sigh. “You should’ve taken a jacket with you when you went, you know it gets cold in the evening,” he scolds you. In those times, he reminds you the most of your brother– because although you and Sunwoo act like you hate each other sometimes, you know the older male still cares about you. He just hates showing it, which translates in his scolding tone whenever you do something wrong or against his wishes. 

In those times, Eric reminds you the most of the way your brother treats you, and you somehow hate it. You despise the fact, because that means he must only see you as someone like his younger sister– he never had one, so maybe he just likes to compensate for it by taking care of you all the time. Maybe he feels responsible to do so because of Sunwoo. The thought makes you equally as nauseous– you’d never want him to hang out with you just because he feels like he has to. 

“I didn’t have time in the morning,” you grunt, rolling your eyes at him. You avert your gaze from the male, for it makes you slightly uncomfortable after your previous thoughts, so when the noise of a zipper being pulled down and the weight of fabric on your shoulders brings you back to reality, you snap your head around at him all alarmed. 

“What? Wear it,” he says, head shrugging towards the direction of his jacket on your figure. “You’re gonna catch a cold if you don’t.”

Trying to wrestle out of the red material, you squirm in the hold of the windbreaker– Eric’s hands gripping each side of the jacket, as if predicting your next moves, making sure it stays on you and doesn’t fall down. His strong arms tug you closer to him to make your fight more difficult– and he’s successful with his efforts, because the proximity of him and his smell engulfs you and unarms you, heat rushing to your cheeks as you halt in your movements.

“Stop,” you mourn, “I don’t need it.”

“Yes you do,” he insists, “so stop being a baby about it and wear it.”

Staring into his eyes, as if to mentally tell him to stop what he’s doing– to stop how he’s treating you, how he’s making you all weak in your knees and sleepless at nights because of how much you think of him and hope he’s doing well each day, to stop being so gentle with you and taking care of you, because it brings all sorts of both doubts and delusions into your head– but he doesn’t back down. You’ve known him for quite some time, you should already be aware of just how stubborn he can be.

“Arms in,” he hums, holding on to the jacket and waiting for you to wear it properly. One thing about you– you can always admit your defeat. So, with a sigh, you put your arms through the sleeves of Eric’s red windbreaker, shrinking a little under his firm gaze. He looks at you with a look full of something you can’t decipher, and it’s all making you so, so insanely lost in the many thoughts and feelings swirling around your head, not helping your current state.

“I already have a brother, y’know,” you mumble in a moment of weakness, looking at your feet– your dirty white sneakers almost touching his from how close you are standing right now, “so you should stop treating me like one.”

A moment of silence overtakes you two, and you suddenly feel like you’ve done something wrong. Still, Eric’s hands are holding on to the sides of the opened jacket, keeping you close to him. “Hm?” 

Clearing your throat and shaking your head, you snicker to yourself. “Forget it.”

“No- I mean,” he blurts out, tone of voice a little nervous, “do you see me as your brother figure?” he asks, tone of voice more quiet now, more gentle.

Breathing in the crispy air, taking a moment before you reply, you shake your head in disapproval. “No,” you say, “no, I don’t. I- I don’t think I do,” you say, scared of what your answer will bring out of him. You don’t really know why, but at this moment, you feel insanely fragile– as if any bad move could make you break in his hands, waiting for him to glue you back together. 

Metaphorically, he does just that. “Good,” he nods, leaning down towards you, hands gripping the zipper of his jacket and zipping it together, making sure no cold can get to your bones as his fingers tug it up towards the very top, under your chin. “Because I’ve never seen you as my sister either.”

His answer once again startles you– but when you take a step back from the situation, you think it was in a good way. His hands grip your shoulders for a second as his eyes meet yours and he offers you a warm smile. “Come on, let’s get you home,” he says, tugging you towards the fence where you find his bike, his motions guiding you like a rag doll sucked out of all life.

“Hop in,” he motions towards the back of the bike, where the basket would usually be– Eric moved it towards the front, though, leaving enough room for you to sit at– and as you do, he takes a seat in front of you and looks back at you over his shoulder. “Hold on tight so you don’t fall.”

Like in a trance, your arms sneak around his middle– this was the first time you had this kind of physical touch with him, and just the thought of it makes you want to scream your throat out– before the male takes off on the bike, riding towards your neighborhood. With the cold wind slapping your face, you foolishly rest your cheek on his shoulder blade and close your eyes, enjoying the closeness of his body keeping you warm. 

If anyone asked you about the action, you’d tell them you were just tired.

DECEMBER OF 1999

Socked feet make their way through the room, the sound of footsteps resonating on the laminated floor, as the short male comes up to you with a bowl of potato chips in his right hand and a bottle of soda under his left arm. Eric Sohn sighs at you, shaking his head in disbelief, before he places the items onto the coffee table and takes a seat next to you on the floor, opening up the bottle and pouring the three of you drinks.

“Can’t believe I’m spending New Year’s Eve with you losers, of all people,” Eric snickers, having you roll your eyes at the male and grumpily furrow your eyebrows at his sentence.

“No one’s stopping you if you wanna go, y’know,” you grunt as you take the filled glass off the table, taking a sip of the sweet drink and sighing at him. If he’s gonna take a leap into the new year with you while making you annoyed, he may as well leave now and do whatever his initial plan was– once again, no one’s stopping him if that’s what he wants to do.

“I’m just saying,” he shrugs, “it would’ve been so much more fun if we all went to Juyeon hyung’s. Everyone’s there celebrating, but we’re stuck here in your room.” 

“Well, Eric,” your brother smiles ironically at him, shrugging to himself, “it’s not like it’s my fault you’re not over at Juyeon hyung’s right now. You chose to spend the new years here with me. My mother prohibited me from going there, not yours.”

The argument has the male shrug, his eyes averting your brother’s gaze once his comment gets a bit too honest and realistic. It’s true and he’s right– it’s not like Eric’s mum told him he can’t go celebrate with his friends, because she didn’t. Eric’s mum trusts him and wants him to have fun and do what all the kids his age are doing. Your mum, on the other hand, is making you and Sunwoo stay home for New Year’s Eve to celebrate with your family, because, as she quoted, New Year’s Eve the only time she gets time off work, and she wants to spend it with her kids– forget the fact that you’re currently sitting locked in your room with your friend, protesting the family time just because you can– and when Sunwoo told her she has to stop treating him like a little kid, she told him she has all the right to do so, because he is her kid. And that’s how the party he was supposed to attend with Eric (the party you foolishly thought you’re gonna have to tag along to, not hating the sentiment as much as before now) got canceled from your brother’s plans.

“Well,” Eric chews on the inside of his cheek, “I did it for you two. Be grateful.”

“Whatever,” you hum, “let’s turn on the TV. I bet there’s some variety show on.”

Eric heaves out a sigh as he reaches for the TV remote, clicking the power button and making the boxy device in front of you light up. Your mum got you a TV in your room when you complained about being too bored one November day, and although the box of entertainment didn’t really help like you imagined it to, you’re glad it’s of service at least today. Instead of the expected variety show, though, there’s news on– the face of the old announcer looking at you with a serious look on his face, the professional tone making chills run down your spine, for he reminds you a bit of your mother when she scolds you. You think that’s a common news announcer trait. 

“As the year 2000 approaches, computer programmers realize that computers might not interpret the 00 in the software as 2000, but 1900. The softwares currently running only use a two-digit code for the year, excluding the 19. The data was excluded because the data storage is costly and takes up too much space. Activities that were planned on a daily basis could be damaged or flawed,” the announcer says, making the three of you look at the screen with interest. Maybe it’s true that when you get older, you get more interested in news– you think it’s good to know what’s going on around you, although the topic discussed right now might not even concern you in the slightest.

“Banks, which calculate the interest rates on a daily basis, could face real problems. Interest rates are the amount of money a lender, such as a bank, charges a customer, such as an individual or business, for a loan. Instead of the rate of interest for one day, the computer could calculate a rate of interest for minus almost 100 years!” 

“Oops,” Eric lets out next to you, a reaction so far away from what a real adult would think of the situation. See, you are all just kids, after all.

“Centers of technology, such as power plants, are also threatened by this issue. Power plants depend on routine computer maintenance for safety checks, such as water pressure or radiation levels. Not having the correct date could throw off these calculations and possibly put nearby residents at risk,” the announcer continues, the information coming out of his mouth suddenly making you hyper aware of the reality you’re experiencing right now.

“Do we have a nuclear power plant nearby?” you ask in a hushed whisper, watching as the men next to you almost comically widen their eyes, shrugging.

“I’m not sure,” Sunwoo peeps.

“The worst of all, this software and hardware issue could cause such a big problem in nuclear energy facilities, where nuclear bombs and missiles could be set off, causing the world to go into utter chaos, or worse, an end,” the announcer concludes, the last word making you gasp in terror. 

“An end?” you chirp, sitting up straight in your seat as you look at the two men, now equally as terrified. There’s something in Sunwoo’s gaze that makes chills run down your spine, the reality crushing down on you with heavy measures. 

“I knew I shouldn’t have fought with mum. What if the last words the two of us exchanged before we die are the harsh words I had said yesterday?” your brother mourns, seeing as his best friend chews on his bottom lip, lost in thought.

“What did you say to your mum?”

“That- that I’ll never forgive her for ruining this for me,” he mumbles, his voice breaking at the end, “and… other things,” he adds, the hint of incoming panic making his best friend frantically wave his hands around and try to make your brother relax before he has to deal with the breakdown. If the world is ending, this is not how any of you want to go.

“It’s okay, don’t worry,” Eric says, clearing his throat and pointing to the TV, “look! The show is on, we should watch before the year ends,” he proposes, taking the remote into his hand and turning the volume up to hopefully drown out Sunwoo’s thoughts and have him focus on something else. And it works– noting that your brother has an attention span of a 5 year old– he can hardly remember what he was worrying about just 30 seconds ago.

Still, the thought keeps bouncing around your head like a child in a bouncy castle. The words of the news anchor keep repeating in your brain, making your ears ring as you look at Eric from the corner of your eye, watching his angelic face. Oh how you hate disturbing the peace now that you’ve all calmed down– but still, you can’t deal with the worries alone. Checking the clock hung above the TV, noticing there’s at least 5 minutes left before midnight, you clear your throat, feeling your whole body on fire.

“Do you really think the world is gonna end?” you ask, cracking your knuckles in a nervous manner. Looking at Eric, pupils shaking, you find your brother’s best friend seemingly lost in thought. The music of the variety show program serves you three as a background sound now, none of you paying attention to the TV anymore, instead, focusing on all the things you've done wrong in your life and how somehow, this feels like karma for all of it.

“I dunno,” Sunwoo shrugs, “I mean- they said it’s possible! It was on the news, and they wouldn’t lie on the news…” he nervously mumbles, scratching the back of his head. 

“That’s what’s worrying me,” you sigh, “we shouldn’t have turned on the TV.”

“It was your idea in the first place!”

“And I’ll carry the burden into my grave,” you admit, gulping as you press a forced smile onto your lips.

Momentarily looking back at the TV, you desperately want to keep the thought of the world being over out of your head before you spend your last minutes on this earth going crazy– but now that you started, you can’t keep thinking about it. “Man, the world can’t end yet. There’s so many things I haven’t tried yet! I’m too young to die!”

The men don't reply to that– you presume they’re too busy trying to find other things to occupy themselves with instead of the inevitable– which has you dissatisfied as you throw your body back into the sofa, heaving out a sigh. Seconds go by painfully slow but also painfully fast at the same time, given the circumstances, as you listen to the cheerful song playing in the background and nudge your friend into his upper arm with your pointer finger, feeling his arm encircle your shoulders and pull you closer to him. The contact of his fingers on your upper arm makes you squirm and break out into a smile, feeling a particular lightness in your stomach at the action, a sensation that has you in shock. 

“I’m gonna talk with mum before we die,” Sunwoo suddenly calls as he stands up from his seat on the floor, sighing to himself, “I can’t go with the thought of her being upset with me,” he sentimentally adds before he’s out of the door, rushing towards the living room.

The space falls into momentary silence now that your brother is gone, having you chew on your bottom lip with nerves. You think now is the time to beg for forgiveness with the higher forces– I'm sorry for not studying well. I'm sorry for being rude and ungrateful towards my mum. I'm sorry for being greedy– when the sound of Eric’s voice resonates through the place as he speaks up again, waking you up from the anxious slumber, the clock now striking 2 minutes before midnight. “What would you wanna do before you die?” he asks.

The question is simple. You presume he wants simple answers– things like getting into college, getting a good job and making a lot of money, growing old– but as you lean away from him and get back to your place on his left, your eyes locked with his, you’re left clueless. There are so many things you have yet to achieve, and the idea of not being able to pushes a burden to your chest, but at this very moment, you can’t really name one. 

Shrugging, you chew on the inside of your cheek as your eyes scan his face. His firm eye contact has you a bit flustered, making you shrivel in your seat, and as the sound of the TV morphs from the song into a countdown from 55, you’re overwhelmed with the thought that your friend is insanely pretty– and he always has been, you just hated admitting it to yourself for the past few months, despite still being fully aware– and that now, when the world ends, you’re dying unkissed and alone.

Well, not completely alone, since Eric’s here. And he’s always been here– your whole life, since you can remember, and he’s here now as well, even though he should’ve been at Juyeon’s house. As the clock strikes 30 seconds away from midnight, your eyes involuntarily travel down to his chapped lips, all air knocked out of your lungs, the thoughts in your brain picking up on speed the closer you come to the end.

You’re dying soon. You’re dying in 30- now 29 seconds, and you’ve never kissed anyone before. You’re dying before you get a chance to hold hands with someone and have a partner, and you’re dying before you get a chance to tell Eric how you feel about him. There’s 28 seconds left until the end and you’re just staring at him like a coward, because you don’t really let yourself indulge in the silly warmth of your heart whenever you’re around your friend, but god, you can at least admit it to yourself before you die.

And as the clock gets closer and closer to midnight, now only giving you 20 seconds before it all ends and a missile lands on the top of your house, blowing up the whole town and making you all disappear, Eric’s question repeats itself in your brain. What would you want to do before you die?

The answer is suddenly painfully clear as you take action– leaning towards the boy on your right, face closer to his than it’s ever been before, your eyes counting all his eyelashes and focusing on his surprised, yet unmoving face– and as you hear the countdown reach 15, you close your eyes and press your lips against his. 

The contact makes you weak in your knees as your hands reach to his face to steady him, your own firework show erupting in your stomach, and suddenly you’re completely content with dying tonight– because at least you’re with Eric, at least you did something. You kiss your friend with something close to an unsaid confession, your lips staying on his throughout the rest of the countdown, the taste of soda you’ve both been drinking the whole evening mixing in the contact of your skin. You’re not sure you’re even doing this right– again, you’ve never kissed anyone before– but it doesn’t matter to you much as you let go of your worries, aware of the fact that in a few seconds, nothing will matter anymore when neither of you are going to be around to say anything to each other after the kiss is over.

The countdown rings in your ears– coming down from 5 as you scoot yourself closer to Eric, 4 as you run the pads of your thumbs along his cheekbones, 3 as you still in your movements, 2 as you notice your knees bumping into each other on the ground and finally, 1 as you get ready to die, kissing your first and only love– when the sound of cheers and fireworks from the TV fills your ears instead, the world around you stilling and completely unchanged.

Your kiss started in 1999 and ended in 2000. Your love for him passed a century.

Eyes fluttering open and your mouth letting go of his, the image of the boy with his lips slightly parted, eyes closed and cheeks rosy comes to you in the yellow light of your room, making your heart fall down to your stomach. He looks absolutely angelic, his hair slightly messy and the fabric of his shirt a little disheveled in the front, and even though you’d love to indulge in your foolish desires and kiss him some more, you’re quickly taken aback with the noise of the door to your room opening and making you jump away from Eric, your brother appearing out of thin air in the presence of your room. It serves you like a weird kind of reality check, Eric’s eyes opening and looking at your brother, and even though you two haven’t been caught, the male clears his throat and bites down on his lower lip, looking almost guilty.

Oh no. What have you done?

Suddenly, you feel insanely silly.

JANUARY OF 2000

“You’ve been awfully quiet the whole day,” Sunwoo mumbles from beside you, his whole body engulfed in a pile of snow, “not that I care, but are you okay?”

“I thought you liked it when I don’t talk,” you mutter, playing with the frozen white all around you, seated on the red plastic sled at the top of the hill. You got tired after dragging it up from the bottom, and when you noticed that the rest of Sunwoo’s friends– Eric included– are still on their way up, you figured you could use up the time to relax and sit around for a while. It’s been quite some time since all of Sunwoo’s friends gathered to hang out at the same time, which made you surprised to see that your own brother invited you to tag along with them as they decided to go sledding on the second day of January, using up their break to best of their abilities. Which is also why you didn’t say no to the invitation– you thought sitting at home and moping around wouldn’t help you much.

“I do,” he says, nodding, “that’s why I’m asking what’s up– so I know what to do when I need to shut you up later,” Sunwoo hums, making you roll your eyes at the masked worry.

Shaking your head in disbelief, you scoff. “It’s nothing.”

“Sure,” he shrugs, “so you’re just going through puberty?” he teases, to which you take a handful of snow into your palm and lunge the white at him, satisfaction running through your veins when the snowball lands into his unsuspecting face, the male coughing and swatting his arms around to defend himself.

“Hey!” your brother screams at you once he gets the ice out of his eyes and his mouth, his body jumping into a standing position before he chases you around, the bubble of a laugh escaping your throat for the first time these days– they’re not wrong when they say malicious joy is the best kind of joy.

Running at the top of the hill, not really looking where you’re going– instead looking over your shoulder to see Sunwoo’s actions, preparing yourself to duck if he decides to turn your small quarrel into a snow fight– your legs get tangled with the red sled you left before you started a war with the angered man, a yelp cutting out of your throat as you get prepared to fall over and knock your teeth out.

Your body comes in contact with something half-firm, half-soft, and as your feet slip and the snow-covered ground disappears from below your legs, two arms wrap around your waist and steady you, making sure you don’t get hurt.

Turns out Eric Sohn is there to catch you every time you are about to eat shit. You hate this kind of deja vu.

As you open your eyes (that you had closed on instinct, not wanting to see your own death) once you’re sure you’re safe and sound, the world around you invites itself into your ears in an overwhelming noise. The laughter of Sunwoo’s friends– some hollering at your fall, some at the redness and last remains of snow covering your brother’s face– and the hushed arguments over who’s going down first– with Haknyeon screaming that he’s stealing Sunwoo’s (yours) sled and Juyeon following him. After all those happening in the matter of a few seconds,  you realize you’re left on the top of the hill alone with the male, terror shaking through your insides.

Clearing your throat and taking a step back from him, you tuck your hands into your pockets and avert your gaze from Eric. You two haven’t spoken since you decided to kiss him on New Year’s Eve, and with the awkward tension in the air, you don’t feel like doing so ever again in your whole entire life. 

“Thanks,” still, you hum.

Eric seems a little more light-hearted than you, shrugging as he replies to you. “Haven’t I told you to start watching where you’re going?”

“I’m not good with listening sometimes,” you mutter, huffing. Taking a look around yourself– noticing that there are no sleds left on the top of the hill, therefore, if you wanted to escape the situation, the only way down would be to roll around like a human version of a snowman, you once again admit your defeat, standing around nervously and shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

The silence is uncomfortable. It makes you want to dig a hole in the snow and bury yourself alive, to suffocate under the weight of the icy cold and never see Eric’s face again. You know that you ruined whatever friendship you had with the male– by being stupid and foolish, not really thinking about consequences (because there were supposed to be none and you were supposed to be dead), and the weight of the guilt makes you want to puke and hide away. 

Still, Eric comes out of his way to talk to you. Honestly, you’re kind of surprised– he should be disgusted with you. Realistically, he should be the one avoiding you, not the other way around.“They’re gonna take long to walk back up,” he notes, “wanna get hot chocolate with me?”

“I’m good, thanks,” you shake your head, not once breaking eye contact with the overwhelming white of the hill.

“Come on,” he sighs, “it’s just around the corner. They built a hot chocolate stand because they knew kids would come sledding here. Honestly, it’s an astute business tactic, but I promise the hot chocolate actually tastes nice,” he says, nudging you slightly with his arm, as if to make you look at him and change your mind.

“Thanks, but no,” you definitely say, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“Are you avoiding me?” he asks, tone of voice casual– as if it was the most normal thing in the world, as if nothing ever happened and he was genuinely curious about the reasoning behind your actions.

“I’m not, I just don’t really like hot chocolate,” you sheepishly mutter, trying hard to avoid the topic.

“So you are avoiding me,” he hums, as if it wasn’t obvious before– and not only because you’re a bad liar. Plus, you love hot chocolate. Somehow, you think Eric knows.

“Look, Eric,” you sigh, running your hand through your hair, “can’t you just drop it?”

“No,” he shrugs, shaking his head, “and that’s why we’re talking about the reason why you’re avoiding me over a cup of hot chocolate. Let’s go.”

His persistence is terribly overwhelming sometimes. You wonder how the male does it. “I already told you-”

“You owe me for the stickers and the meal and everything,” he corners you, and you know you can’t argue with that. He’s kind of right, you suppose– you never paid him back for all the chocolates or for the free meal he brought you that one evening. And that’s exactly why you find yourself sighing as you follow him, mentally preparing yourself for the talk.

You hate how he can always get his way. Walking up to the stand, you crack your knuckles in the pocket of your jacket, nervously coming up with possible arguments to tell him. I didn’t kiss you on purpose, it was an accident. I only did it to know how it feels. We are both supposed to be dead, it’s not my fault the world didn’t end like it was supposed to! Each sentence sounds more stupid than the previous one, and so with that, you shake your head, wiping the thoughts away, smiling at the elderly lady in the stand. You’re just gonna have to be honest, you figure. 

“Two hot chocolates, please.”

Rummaging through your pockets to find your wallet– you do owe Eric, so it’s only natural for you to pay– you’re caught off guard as the male next to you swiftly takes out his own and unzips it, preparing to pay for you. 

“I thought I owed you?” you mumble, hand reaching to tug at his forearm to stop him, to which Eric only grins at you and sighs.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean you have to pay,” he says.

“I think that’s exactly what that means.”

“Just take it,” he huffs as he brings out a note from his wallet, the force making something else fly out and fall to the ground with it, having the boy swiftly crouch down and pick the item up, attempting to hide it before you get a chance to see. And now, you don’t have 20/20 vision, but you recognise your face when you see it– that, and you also recognize the small white sheet to be a polaroid picture, and as far as you’re aware, you’re the only one who has a camera in his circle.

The boy hands you the drink with red-tinted cheeks. The idea of him carrying a picture of you that he took back in September makes you flush as well, and when your gloved fingers accidentally meet as you take the cup from him, he forces out a laugh. “We can talk about that after you tell me why you’re avoiding me.”

His nonchalance has you relaxing only for a few seconds. The boy walks with you as you try to heat up your cold hands on the boiling surface of the cup, and when you see a bench a few meters away from you two, you instinctively take a seat.

“So?” he becomes you, eyebrows rising as he takes a sip from the melted sweetness.

Sighing, you try to come up with the best way to go around this. Do you apologize? Do you promise to never do it again– and you won’t, even though you want to so badly and his lips look surprisingly soft today? Furrowing your brows at the war in your head, you place the cup on the bench next to you and put your head into your hands, hiding away from him when you realize the only way to do this is to be completely, utterly honest.

“I’m just so embarrassed, Eric.”

The only noise meeting your eardrums in the moment is the faint yelling of the crowd sledding in the background, your companion remaining quiet for a bit. When he sees you won’t explain yourself, he goes ahead and asks the question. “Why?”

“Do I really have to spell it out for you?” you sigh, not believing his so casual composure.

“Maybe,” he laughs, the airy sound taking all breath away from your lungs.

Well, not all of it, since you have enough oxygen to go on a tangent, it seems. “Because I kissed you, goddamnit. And- and I don’t even know why I did it, honestly, I’ve never thought of kissing you before! It’s just- when I heard the world is ending, I realized I hadn’t had my first kiss yet, and that just felt like such a miserable way to die, and then you asked what I wanted to do before I die and I couldn’t think of anything else,” you say, progressively taking out your head from your hands and facing the male, big eyes staring into his soul. 

To your surprise, he doesn’t seem mad. Or disgusted. Or any of the reactions you expected, really. Eric stares at you with a soft, but amidst a little star-struck look in his eyes, and you’re suddenly painfully aware of every slight shift in his composure.

“Did you kiss me because you wanted to kiss me, or because you thought the world was gonna end?” he asks, awaiting your answer.

And if you’re being honest, 2 days after New Year’s Eve, you do admit the thought of the world actually ending sounds a bit stupid. Why did you even believe that theory? Why did they talk about it so seriously on the news? They tricked you into ruining your own life. 

But still, nothing can be done about it now. “Both,” you admit, shrugging, “I… I kissed you because I really didn’t want to die unkissed, but also… I wanted it to be you, y’know? Like… I thought we were really going to die, and so I thought kissing you might be a nice way to go. I really wanted to spend my last moments with you, I guess,” you sheepishly say, averting your gaze from the male.

Eric offers you his silence again after you’re done explaining. While you do admit you feel a little tense to hear what he has to say, you also realize you feel lighter now that it’s out in the universe and out of your system. A major weight was taken off your shoulders with the confession, and suddenly, you’re kind of glad that your friend was so assertive and insistent on talking about this– who knows how long you’d go before managing to face him. You think you could honestly go on… forever.

Taking a sip of the luscious liquid, you feel your body warm up once the anxiousness slips away from your bones. The boy next to you hums, making you face him with expecting eyes. “Then why were you avoiding me?”

Sighing, you shake your head. “I just told you. I’m starting to think you’re the one that’s bad at listening.”

“No,” he laughs, “that’s still you. Because if you were good at listening, you’d remember me telling you that I’ve never once seen you as my younger sister.”

Shrugging, kicking the pile of snow in front of you with the tip of your winter boots, you’re not quite following. “So?”

“So you should’ve realized that I’m not doing all of this,” he theatrically swings his arms around, “for nothing, you know?”

“All of what?”

“Taking care of you. Feeding you, helping you collect those stupid animal stickers, walking you home…” he mumbles, sighing. “Keeping your picture in my wallet,” he adds with a playful tone, making you smile.

“I thought you were just being a good friend,” you shrug.

“I don’t keep a picture of your brother on me at all times,” he says, tugging off his gloves. The sleeve of his jacket rides up a little as you watch him take his cup of hot chocolate off the bench, surprised (and flooded with warmth) to see the ugly friendship bracelet you made still adorning his wrist.

Grinning to yourself, excitement welcoming itself into the tips of your fingertips, you shrug. “So?” you mirror your own question from a little while ago, wanting him to say it to you instead of relying on your own brain– you think there’s still a possibility of you just being too delusional to see the reality for what it really is. You need to make sure you’re not imagining things.

“So,” he starts, sighing to himself as he turns a little in his seat to face you, “you should stop avoiding me, because I liked the kiss. And you. And we should probably do it again, because I didn’t get the chance to kiss you back the first time,” he says, once again taking all oxygen out of your lungs with the casualty of his preposition.

Locking his eyes with you, having you two staring at each other like two rays of sunshine warming up the cold January, he grins. “How does that sound?”

“Good,” you breathe out, “very good.”

The male takes it as an invitation as he scoots himself closer to you on the bench, his body turning a bit to face you. His free hand cups your cheek, leaning closer to lock his lips with you like he asked you to, your eyes fluttering close at the proximity, the fuzzy feeling in your stomach already expecting to kiss him again. The situation feels a little too idyllic to be real, though– you should’ve expected it to get ruined again.

Something cold and wet comes into contact with the side of your face, and when you sharply open your eyes, you see Eric staring at you with shock and terror in his eyes, the snow dripping down the side of his face as well. Whoever threw the snowball has good aim, you think– managing to target two people at once (even though your faces were that close to each other that it probably wasn’t even that hard), and before you get a chance to look around and see who cut off your kiss, there’s a scream coming from the left side of the two of you, the sound of feet quickly darting in the snow landing into your ears.

“Eric Sohn, what the fuck do you think you’re doing with my sister?” the voice hollers, and before you get a chance to react, the said male fastly stands up from the bench and runs to the other direction, laughter resonating all throughout the place as Sunwoo and his friends chase their shortest friend down.

Snow starts falling as you watch your brother tail his childhood friend, and with a foreign sense of warmth, you get reminded of the birthday wish you made while blowing out the candles on your seventh birthday.

You wished for someone just like Eric. You didn’t know the universe would be so kind to give you him instead.

[02:04] | tbz lee jaehyun | hyunjae

» ​PAIRING: tbz lee jaehyun (hyunjae) x fem reader​ » TROPE/AU​: friends 2 lovers (mentioned from backstory!), non-idol au! established relationship au! marriage au! » GENRE​: fluffy fluff, slight angst (?), ​husband hyunjae, he's super patient and understanding, hurt/comfort, wedding vows (it's so cute, i love it) » WORD COUNT: ​3743 » ESTIMATED READING TIME: ~14 mins » WARNINGS (lmk if i missed anything!): mentions of pregnancy, insecurities, mentions of a broken family/childhood (reader's side), proofread once

my second timestamp story! thank you for all the love on the first one! (pst! it's sunwoo! 🦝) hopefully, this one lives up to your expectations! (if there are any uwu). sorry for my weird, unscheduled, random posting times > <

shoutout to my mum who (i bet) went through a lot to make sure i would grow up well. thank you for always reminding me that you don't regret having me and loving me with all your being. love you mumma! 💗

navi/masterlist!!

You remembered when you tucked yourself into bed alone after reminding Jaehyun to come to bed soon. He was so close to finishing his work that you didn’t want to force him out of his zone, understanding that he would feel more peaceful if he finished it sooner even if it meant ruining his internal body clock a little bit for it.

Opening your eyes and taking a deep breath in the calming darkness, you smiled at the arm that rested across your now flat stomach. During your whole pregnancy stages, especially when that wicked pregnancy pillow put a physical barrier between you and your loving husband, he would at least reach out and hold your hand (or particularly your stomach bump), a huge downgrade from how his chest would completely be on your back and he hushes you asleep with his soft snores. 

You knew as soon as you turned your head to the right that Jaehyun managed to finish his work, a neutral smile on his face as compared to the slight pout and the subtle crease between his eyebrows as he sometimes grunts in his sleep from the past few days. An affectionate gaze falls upon your eyes when Jaehyun grunts and scoots over to your side of the bed, his unconscious mind telling him to move closer to his wife after he throws the pillow away to the other side of the room in excitement as soon as your new family arrived home three days ago. You chuckle at the way his right hand past the top of your stomach to hook your waist and pull you closer to him. Now half awake, Jaehyun made himself comfortable by burrowing his nose and lips into the crook of your neck and you immediately looked up towards the ceiling to let him do so.

A satisfied hum comes out from the man beside you, “This is nice.” He brushes the warm skin of your neck with his colder nose and his soft lips press multiple kisses from your jawline to your right shoulder.

“Jae.” You chuckle at his playful nature, “Go back to sleep, hm? You have work tomorrow.”

Jaehyun groans at the grim reminder. He’s been at home ever since you came back home, using up some of his leave days to take care of you and your newborn child. He was about to use it all but you stopped him, convincing him that you’re able to take care of yourself and your child, moreover to save those days in case a ‘real’ emergency does occur. Every day and every moment, you look at your husband who you treasure so much and you can’t help but think about how much you love this man with all your heart, mind and soul.

“Don’t remind me of that, bubs.” Finally opening his eyes, he relied on the subtle moonlight that seeped through your curtains and looked at your side view with ‘that’ gaze. 

‘That’ gaze that reminds you every day that you’re worth it for you. ‘That’ gaze that he kept even after ten years of meeting each other. ‘That’ gaze that was plastered on his face when he went down on one knee to propose to you. ‘That’ gaze that was present when he read his wedding vows and wiped the tears on your face when you read yours. ‘That’ gaze (mixed with immense happiness and excitement) when you told him you were pregnant. 

It holds many meanings and you were sure that the list would continue, building from all the blessed experiences so far.

Only chuckling at the way that he pouts cutely at you, you turn your body to face him, creating a small gap between you both as you press a peck on his lips, “Thank you for using your leave days to take care of us.”

“Of course, I would.” Jaehyun shook his head slightly to validate his point, “You both are my whole world. I can’t afford to lose you or baby.” It was the way that your eyes slightly pooled with tears that he replaced the pout and shushing the soft whimpers that left your now shaky lips, “Hey…what’s wrong?”

Your once small cries amplified drastically and Jaehyun’s eyes widened in shock, quickly pulling you into his embrace. He slips his left hand under your neck, bringing your tear-stricken face into his chest as you sob in his arms. Jaehyun comfortingly whispers sweet nothings into your ear, patting your head and pressing occasional kisses on your forehead. You stayed wordless for a while, enjoying the company and how close your entire body could be now after you gave birth.

“Catch your breath. I’ll be right here.” Jaehyun reminds you between your tired gasps for air, “I’ll always be here next to you, waiting for you, loving you more and more with each passing day.”

You couldn’t do anything but just nod, your heart melting at the sincere words, “I’m scared.”

“Of what, bubs?”

“Like,” You started, audibly voicing out the thoughts that have been swarming and eating you alive inside and out, “what happens if I mess up?”

It isn’t the first time that you had this kind of conversation. The very first time was when the adrenaline from your system was drained after announcing that positive pregnancy test to Jaehyun. You voiced out your worries as an upcoming parent, worried that you would accidentally pass down your problems, anxiety and worries to your child. Out of everything you want the most in the world, all you want is for your children to grow up without your traumas and problems affecting them because that’s not the kind of life that they deserve. Of course, that’s unrealistic. Children are indeed a slight depiction of their parents and how they would act around other people outside the family says a lot about how their parents raised them.

You can just imagine a situation where your anxiety takes over, you crouch down to be eye level with your extremely young child, giving them a lecture about what they should or shouldn’t do, extending that talks to both extreme sides of ‘what if’s and how they should just be more careful, less daring and---

“Jae, promise me that you’ll make sure she doesn’t grow up like me.” It was a desperate plea, almost as if you would walk out of their lives in the next second. The anxiety completely took over your body as you clenched Jaehyun’s shirt in your fist as a physical response, looking up at him desperately and Jaehyun’s eyebrows crashed together, “She doesn’t deserve that, Jae. Those silent cries, hating everyone around me, feeling like no one loved me and wanting to just end---”

“Don’t.” It was stern yet it still held a lot of patience and love. Jaehyun smiles sadly at the words that he has heard multiple times but even so, he would never stop reminding you of all the things he loves about you. He would never stop hugging you, holding your body and pulling you towards him, giving you all his love and company, “Don’t say that about yourself when you’re the reason why I wake up happy every day, bubs.”

“But Jae---”

“You know,” He whispers into the silent yet wavering night. Jaehyun takes a deep inhale of the air, tilting his head to rest his chin on the top of your head, “I was so scared of losing you as time went on.”

You calmed down, shutting your eyes as you focused on his heartbeat to pull you back to the present time. Jaehyun just smiles at the slightly open door of your room and he reminds himself of his newborn child on the other side of their bedroom door. When you hummed confusingly at his words, your husband just nodded, “Why were you scared?”

“Well,” If it wasn’t for the fact that your face was hidden into his collarbone, you would be able to see the blushing mess that Jaehyun was. A deep red blush was on his face, spreading to his ears; but you did feel the warmth on his neck as you kissed his skin delicately and it made Jaehyun more of a mess, “of course if it didn’t work out and you didn’t feel the same way, it would become awkward and even though we were such close friends, I knew that if I was rejected, I wouldn’t be able to spend as much time with you anymore. I really could’ve lost you.”

You never really knew this about Jaehyun. Whenever you asked about the day that he confessed to you to be his girlfriend, he only talked about his plans and how your mutual friends all pushed him to confess to you. You also told him about how the same mutual friends pushed you to confess back to him, yet you were a coward that you became used to telling yourself that if you ever ended up with Jaehyun, it would only hinder him in life; because who would love a broken girl when they could love a perfect one instead?

And so when he confessed, asked for a chance and promised to love you dearly after two years of mutual pining, you didn’t realise that time flew by so quickly that on the sixth year when Jaehyun kneeled and asked for your hand in marriage two years ago, a sudden hit of ‘reality’ (or so you called it) crashed into you. 

You really did find love when you thought for the longest, most tiring and hardest times when you didn’t think anyone would love you as you are. Seriously, how could anyone love you when you were still so stuck between believing and convincing yourself that you are enough? 

“I knew I had to take a chance,” Jaehyun continues his thoughts, “because when I closed my eyes and realised that if I didn’t at least try to make you mine, you might just completely slip from my life. Selfishly as well, I didn’t want to see you smiling in another person’s arms and kissing that person every time you wake up and go to sleep.”

The thought of you two doing just that ever since you moved in together five years ago suddenly made you blush and you couldn’t help but let out a string of complaints. Jaehyun just laughs (and quietly lets out a sigh of relief) when you finally release his shirt, wrapping your small hands around his bigger build instead, “I’m sorry that I didn’t realise that you went through all that.”

“No, it’s alright.” He reassures you again for the nth time in the last hour, “I have you now. You are all I ever wanted.” Pulling away and reaching to cup your wet cheeks, his thumbs swipe your almost dry cheek, offering you that familiar warmth that only he could give, “It’s all worth it in the end.”

“Really?” Another tear managed to slip out of your eyes and you couldn’t help but stare at him apprehensively as the devil inside your mind managed to manipulate your thinking, “I’m such a high-maintenance person, Jae…I really wouldn’t blame you if you wake up one day and decide to just…” He shakes his head throughout your small speech, knowing the similar words that you would say to him once in a while, “leave…” It came out quieter than you thought, maybe because he already knew anyway, hence saying it again and again, the red-horned creature in your mind rejoices as your childhood traumas reminded you of how worthless you are to the world.

Usually at this time, Jaehyun would rebut your words immediately but the silence had your heart dropping and for a while, you thought that you had taken the words out of his mouth. Jaehyun kept his tired stare and suddenly you were aware of your dry mouth as you waited for any sort of words from your husband. He removes the hand that was on your cheek, reaching behind to grab his device from the bedside table, “Hold on, okay?”

For a second, you really thought this was it for the both of you. During these moments of much-needed comfort, Jaehyun has always given you his undivided attention but now as the blue light reflects on his squinting eyes, you couldn’t help but let the tears flow down your eyes once again. Did he finally give up on me? Were the only thoughts that swarmed your mind as you watched how his thumb scrolled and colours reflected on the smooth surface of his dewy skin, “Jae?” Time made you desperate for a response and you were about to clench on his shirt again when he let out a small ‘aha’ and played the video on his phone.

You recognised the scene on his phone immediately without looking. The familiar scene, cheers, whooping and excitement radiating off the background noises had you sobbing again. Jaehyun sets the volume, puts his phone back on the bedside table and gives you his attention again, “My mum was sorting videos on her phone when she came across this and sent it to me.” He presses a comforting kiss on your lips and calms your shaking body, “I’m sure you remember this right?”

You just nod and Jaehyun pulls your face into his chest once again, letting the sound from the video consume you both into your worlds.

“As soon as you stepped into those classroom doors, all eyes were on you and undoubtedly mine too.” You were already starting to tear up just from the first few sentences, “Ah…I only just started…” You scanned your next words, just sniffling from the longer sentences that you didn't know how to not cry to while the audience let out words of encouragement and small laughs. 

Your soon-to-be husband steps towards you, kissing the side of your head, “Should I go first?”

“Do you mind?” You laugh, feeling embarrassed. 

“Not at all.” Jaehyun takes out his paper from his suit, taking the microphone from you, “I already knew this would happen guys.” He announced to the audience and you rolled your eyes jokingly, “Ok…I’ll start.”

You knew very well that your eye makeup was most probably ruined and you looked some sort of a mess at the moment so you couldn’t help but stare down at the floor. Jaehyun gives you a quick kiss on the crown of your head, swooning the audience with his romantic gesture making him chuckle before clearing his throat and starting his vows.

“I remember the day I walked into that classroom on my first day of school. No doubt, I didn’t want to be there. Not just at that school or at that classroom: I just didn’t want to be in Seoul. The sudden move because of my dad’s work made me leave all the memories I had in Incheon in a month and as an innocent young child who was already happy with everything, I didn’t want to leave.

Alas, even my mother told me we had to go and that’s when I knew that moving was inevitable. School work was already hard as it was and I had to move to a big city where I knew no one, having to start all over again from the ‘Hi. My name is Lee Jaehyun. I hope we’ll get along well.’ really made me reach the peak of my mood swings during puberty.”

Jaehyun alternates his eye contact between you and the audience who reacts to the groom with happiness, and laughter as some of his closest friends give him encouraging, funny body language. He points them out and the said friends complain whilst the audience just laughs at the group of boys on the side of the stage. However, it was how you finally raised your head and laughed along that made Jaehyun join in as well.

“For the first few weeks, I didn’t make an obvious effort to fit in. As you know, I joined clubs and did after-school activities. Studying was still my priority at this point but even that became so mundane and boring that I crashed and burnt out after a while. But maybe, the burnout was just what I needed because that was how I first met you. Had I not cried in the corner of the library in the ironically ‘health and wellbeing’ section, would you have even spoken to me? Would you have crouched down and tapped on my shoulder to ask if I was okay? Would you have sat down next to me silently as you read your book, waiting for me to answer your question?

The answer is: yes. Or at least I would like to believe so.

Why? Because no one will fully ever understand how much I love you. Maybe if it wasn’t that day in the library, I would’ve met you later. How much later, nobody knows and nobody will ever know because I’m about to marry that girl who made my day so much better in the library. But what I do know is that no matter when, where, why or how we would’ve met, I would have still fallen in love with your smile, your pout, your laugh, and the way you cutely complain about how I mess up your bubble tea order,” Jaehyun gives you a cheeky smile and you just scoff with a smile on your face, “the way you would cry in my arms when you had a bad day, the way you would drop everything when I have a bad day, the way you would try your best to stay awake until I’m done with my other priorities. 

But bubs, I hope you’ll always know that you’ll forever be my first, most top priority.

Even as we fight, cry and shout at each other words that we don’t mean, I hope you’ll always be able to go to sleep thinking that I’ll still love you. I’ll still be right by your side when your insecurities come by and pass. I’ll always remind you that you’ll always be enough no matter what you do. Your best will always be enough and I hope I’ll always be that person who can be your safe, happy place.”

No doubt now that you’re sobbing and when you look at your parents sitting down not far from the stage, your heart does clench a bit as you’re reminded of your childhood. Seeing them cry over Jaehyun’s words does seem a little bit strange to you as they never really minded your words whenever you were struggling with life. But then you remind yourself of what Jaehyun said to you a few seconds ago.

“I know for sure that you’ll always be enough for me.” Jaehyun continues, taking your mind off your parents as he looks at you understandingly, “I love you and I know I’ll continue to love you until the day I take my last breath. I’ll take care of you even when you’re not sick or feeling well, cherish all of you and be there for you even after death because I love you so much, sweetheart.”

The recording ended there and Jaehyun relished in the way that your body stopped shaking, your arms around his waist securely and your breathing back to normal. He knows instantly that you feel better just from those small actions. He also didn’t miss the smile that grew on your face even though you were literally cuddled up against his body, “So,” the deep whisper from your husband only made you push your face even further up his body, now burying your face into his collarbone, “I just want to tell you that she will grow up beautifully just like her mother. Also, we’ll get through this together. Parenting isn’t supposed to be a one-person job after all.”

Nodding and burrowing yourself into the crook of his neck, you appreciate the way his words reminded the devil in the back of your head as it stomps off in defeat. The words supported the angel that finally won and it replaced the red creature, kicking the red light away to replace your body with a calming, soothing feeling that soon takes over your whole body, “I love you, Jae.”

“I love you too.” The warmth of the night overpowered the chilly night and the two of you held each other so lovingly that the weight of your eyelids eventually became too heavy for you to hold. Jaehyun waits patiently until sleep fully takes over you, fighting his yawn from escaping his mouth. Quietly, he just continued to stroke your exposed waist delicately, kissing your lips one last time before reminding you once more, “Always.”

It’s all very fortunate that your mind is now at ease and that you both were able to sleep after. But parenting duties call about half an hour later when cries are heard from the other side of the house and both your eyes open instantly. You were the first one to untangle your body from Jaehyun and you looked over to your husband who was still stirring himself awake again for the second time of the night as you both sat up on the bed, “I’m sorry.” You kiss him on the lips, cradling the back of his head and pushing his chest back down on the bed, “I’ll get her. Get back to sleep, Jae.”

“No no, I’ll go.” You disapprovingly groan at your husband who managed to push his sleepiness aside and sit up once again, his head hanging down in exhaustion, “Wha---bubs.” Instantly, you pushed him back down on the bed, pulling the blanket over up until his chin.

You adamantly tell your husband to try and go back to sleep. Jaehyun fakes his nod and closes his eyes, an idea popping up in his head as he plots to joke around with his wife. When you swing your legs over to the side of the bed, ready to stand up once more, Jaehyun quickly hugs you from behind, pressing a kiss on the back of your ear where you’re the most ticklish and sensitive. 

You froze at his actions and even though his sleepy voice was still evident, you could also hear all the love that he could offer you in this world with his playful tone, “Race you there, bubs.”

Jaehyun called in sick the next day.

navi/masterlist!!

tags (send a dm/ask if you would like to be here!): @deoboyznet 📢❤️ @k-labels 💙🤍 @k-films 🤎🎞️

that's him, that's just who he is | the boyz series introduction

"...and when I see him on my screen, no matter how things faded between us, I will always be able to put a smile on my face and tell them genuinely: that's him—that's the person who made a huge positive impact in my life. And when they ask back, "Really? How so?" I would simply shrug my shoulders and answer: that's just who he is—he's just capable of doing so."

» RELEASE DATE: as soon as possible! hopefully a week to a week and a half between each member! » WARNINGS (for this post—under 'keep reading' section): mentions of going through a tough time (not explicitly defined), healing and progress through the tough time (another warning will be mentioned if you do decide to read further! there is also a safe section after the gif) » WARNINGS (for the stories themselves): some have none, some do! but warnings according to the story will always be mentioned! navi/masterlist!! 🤍 series masterlist

ahhhh...where do i start?

i don't have a concrete idea/plan as to how this series is going to go yet. i don't have a story plan for each member yet either. all i have is the small indented idea and the sure idea that all the stories will be heavily inspired by each member's individual 'generation z' videos.

i'm pretty sure it will be a 'the boyz x reader' story series! currently, i'm settled with the idea that the reader is childhood/old friends with each member and they gradually drifted because life took them to different places. ultimately, the reader just looks back on their memories with each member. but, i don't think each story will be connected.

i was thinking of keeping a word limit of 2k for each story (we all know this isn't going to happen)

i chose the 'generation z' videos because i remember this being the videos that really 'pushed me' to stanning tbz. i've never seen these kinds of videos where idols talk openly about their feelings and i thought 'wait! i could implement this into a story!'

TRIGGER WARNING (safe after gif): mentions of going through a tough time (not explicitly defined), healing and progress through the tough time

addressing the 'personal healing project' part: i haven't been able to watch full videos and fully finish listening tbz related since august 11, 2023. today marks the 80th day that i've been stuck in the past and my own feelings.

long story short, something happened in my life and i had tbz content around me when the event occurred. unfortunately with tbz being there when it unfolded, everytime a song comes on or i see a picture of them, network of associations links me back to the event.

so i stopped listening, unfollowed tbz and all fan accounts specifically on instagram.

but thankfully for me...

i'm still able to write stories

i have seen improvement: able to see old pictures (day 18), unconsciously sung merry bad ending (day 26), consciously hummed lip gloss (day 37), finished up to the end of closer's second verse but backed out after (day 54), able to talk about tbz (day 66) etc.

it's been a hard journey but i have hope.

like changmin said in his 'generation z' video: still, i have hope. without hope, i don't think i can survive.

plus...i know that i still love and look up to the boyz so much.

because even though exposure therapy may still be too much for me now, the fact that time has done its work bit by bit, and i'm able to somewhat look at pictures of them, it means that i am healing.

this series...

is one of the topics that i wanted to 'experiment' with that i talked about in my about me page.

'generation z' pushed me into really stanning tbz and i just hope (and i hope endlessly) that maybe by going back to this video and implementing it to something i love (writing stories), that i'll be able to heal further.

tbz are having a comeback nov 20th! 🎉 i might not be able to follow them this comeback but please give them lots support!

as for this series...will you come along with me?

it's my first ever series ever since i started writing! i am so, very much excited!

i'll see you all soon!

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 series masterlist

tags (send a dm/ask if you would like to be here!): @deoboyznet 📢❤️ @k-labels 💙🤍 @k-films 🤎🎞️

that's him, that's just who he is | the boyz series masterlist

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 series introduction

lee sangyeon 🥭

jacob bae 🍐

kim younghoon 🍞

lee jaehyun | hyunjae 🎁

lee juyeon 🐱

kevin moon 🌙

choi chanhee | new 🐧

ji changmin | q 🐿️

ju haknyeon 🍊

kim sunwoo 🦝

eric sohn 🦄

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 series introduction

tags (send a dm/ask if you would like to be here!): @deoboyznet 📢❤️ @k-labels 💙🤍 @k-films 🤎🎞️

i'm home | tbz lee sangyeon

» ​PAIRING: tbz lee sangyeon x gn!reader (please tell me if i made a mistake!)​ » TROPE/AU​: established relationship au!, long-distance relationship au!, non-idol au! » GENRE​: loving boyfriend sangyeon, very supportive sangyeon, fluffy fluff, bit of angst (ok, maybe more than a 'bit'), comfort comfort and...comfort, reading blushes cause of sangyeon (hehe), boyfie sangyeon who's taller so that you can comfortably hide your face to his chest » WORD COUNT: 4625 » ESTIMATED READING TIME: ~17 mins » WARNINGS (lmk if i missed anything!): mention of religion once, proofread once, workplace hardships navi/masterlist!! 🤍 part of 'especially to you...'

i was a little bit nervous about posting this, especially since it was very rushed! sorry, i didn't plan this well 🥹 nothing came up till the last minute 😞 def didn't freak out or anything— 🤠 i'm gonna hype myself up and think this is fine considering i was racing against the clock (which i didn't manage to beat 😞) and have study to do (exams who? nov 9 who?).

but first of all to me: i know you rejected a lot of opportunities, drowned yourself in a lot of regrets, and i understand that planes are scary for you. i hope that you will find a reason soon to finally see the world like your younger self was dying to do. you were so close to doing it in july and i'm so proud of that first step. keep going, okay?

and! to you @winterchimez...i don't think there are any words needed. welcome home, soulmate! 🫂

Nothing will ever feel as much at home to you as Sangyeon could ever be.

You knew this the moment you told him about how you got the opportunity to work overseas. You remember when it felt like you were fighting endlessly with yourself. Around two years ago, after your weekly date, a loving kiss on your lips and the way Sangyeon would flash you that endearing smile, you thought that everything would be fine. You pushed, what you thought, to be a slim chance that you would be able to work overseas to the back of your mind. At first, you felt crushed about the video interview that you messed up, stuttering and using filler words while you internally scolded yourself for not preparing answers to simple job interview questions. Your head was overloaded with information between things to say and not to say, what would be the best answer and how to play your cards right. In the end, as soon as you pressed the red button on the video call interview, you reached out for your phone to call the first person on your call logs.

Sangyeon remembers that video call, the line of tears cascading down your cheeks as you vent your feelings out. He always waited for you to finish your sentences, nodding along to your words and giving affirming body language to show that he was actively following. Along your stream of words, you didn’t realise that Sangyeon stepped outside in the cold air, his phone at a new low angle and the lights from the buildings were the only reason why you were still able to see his smile across the screen.

“Wait…why are you outside? Where are you going?” You grabbed the new box of tissues from your bedside table, ripping the top part of the box with the dashed lines to help you retrieve a new paper instantly.

“Just grabbing some things.” Sangyeon leisurely answers, bringing the camera closer to his puckering lips, “I’m sure you did amazing, baby. Don’t worry too much, alright? And if you didn’t make it, then I’m sure God has other plans for you.”

You both continue talking over the phone, wiping your eyes, drinking a ton of water and burying yourself underneath the blanket as Sangyeon continues his little errand run. Soon enough, you finally understood why the phone was tilted upwards towards the sky and why Sangyeon didn’t show the things he bought—all the usual things that he would share with you during his random, night errand runs like this one. 

It was when he finally brought the phone up to be in line with his face that you recognised the familiar street background that he was walking in. You gasped, throwing your blanket to the floor, and opening the door suddenly to face your parents who looked at you with shocked eyes. They couldn’t even voice out any of their thoughts because you were out the front door as fast as you exited your bedroom door.

Knowing well that you found out about his plan, Sangyeon made a final sprint for your house, the contents inside the plastic bag ruffles and his earphones your excited laughs and words fill his earphones, mixed in with some of your still sniffling sounds from the devastating earlier events.

That night wasn’t the first time that Sangyeon would run over to you with no notice or hesitation but Sangyeon had been going through a tough time with his personal life and you didn’t know that he would still be able to have such energy to take care of you. It’s a miracle that you were able to still go on dates that these days would be impossible to plan. That night was a reminder to you, especially with the way that he lowered his lower body down, wrapped his arms around your waist, and lifted you as he buried his face into the crook of your neck, that you really love your boyfriend and that he has always been your number one supporter.

In his arms, with some final tears that Sangyeon wiped away delicately from your still-red cheeks, you were sure that everything would be fine. 

Your tears started because you were stressed but it ended with comfort.

But you got another huge headache about a week later when you got the final results of the interview. It could be the acceptance letter (that you were still sure you weren’t going to get), but you knew that you needed to at least open it, read it and accept whatever result it was to move on with your life. So, you tapped on the notification without much thought and you will forever remember this sentence: We look forward to working with you. You froze then and there, your jaw open in disbelief and your fingers went back to the main email page, pulling the inbox page down to refresh the screen. Lo and behold, you were faced with a challenge that you didn’t bother to think about.

You sprint to Sangyeon’s house as soon as the reality sinks into you. Once again, you left your parent’s house after breaking the news to the owners before leaving. Usually, you would have never been able to run that fast and long without a break. The adrenaline and anxiety took over your whole body, and you let your legs guide you to your boyfriend’s house. 

Sangyeon welcomed the news with open arms, his feet adorably tapping on the spot and a deep, soft kiss on your lips that still held his radiant smile. But unlike him, you could only stand at your spot in front of his house and give him a reluctant smile. To this, his smile drops and so did the arms that were in the air a moment ago to celebrate this new journey of yours. The vertical lines between his eyebrows made itself evident and you could only respond with a series of head-shaking and quivering lips.

“Hey…” He cradles the back of your head with one hand, the other on your cheek as he steps forwards towards you, “What’s wrong? You’ve always wanted this.”

Your arms surrounded Sangyeon’s lower body tightly, taking a handful of his sweater and your cold nose slowly became warmer thanks to his body temperature, “I know. But now that it’s happening, I’m having second thoughts.”

He continues to dig further into your thoughts, wanting to understand your feelings more and why you were having second thoughts about something you worked so hard for, “Do you want to elaborate further now? Or do you want to come inside first?”

“If I say the latter, will you cuddle with me?”

This is the you that he knows: the one that would always wish for a kiss, then a cuddle and then another kiss. You lift your face from his chest, increasing the distance between you both slightly. Sangyeon sees the sparkle in your eyes and the slight pout on your lips when you look up at him with a silent plea for a positive answer to your question. 

Who was he to refuse and break your heart like that? 

Plus…he wanted to cuddle with you as much as you did.

And so with the support of your loving family, chaotic friends and encouraging boyfriend, you packed up, headed onto the new country alone and started a new, independent life. Thankfully, you were able to find a place close to your workplace and the foreign place became your home quickly with your three kind housemates. Splitting the chores around the house, cooking, and establishing times to use the washing machine was never a problem. Living in the same house made it easier for you all to spend some time and get to know each other better, leading to routine Friday nights to be spent with each other, going on road trips and eventually overseas trips.

Your workplace has been rewarding as you found the same good qualities of your housemates in most of your co-workers. From day one, everyone has welcomed you to their lives with open arms and you knew for sure that these people wouldn’t be the reason that you would ever have to leave to go back home.

“It’s just so unfair.” It was the company, the workplace and the conditions that they put you in. The logic didn’t make sense: the place was understaffed yet they won’t hire any new people. Of course, there were many underlying factors around it, but after being so overworked, adapting to the new culture, being homesick and, your body trying its best to adjust to the new season changes that you would never have to deal with back home, it was inevitable that you were going to break down soon, “Why? Just why do they have to do that?”

“I’m so sorry you’re going through that.” Oh how much Sangyeon just wanted to jump out of the screen and hug you tight. When was the last time he ever got to do that anyway? He missed having you in his reach—his favourite love language not being able to be expressed for about half a year now, “Hang in there, baby. I know you can do this. Stay strong, hm?”

Through your blurred vision, you could still make out his sorrowful smile, his hand that just hovers the top of the camera on his phone as if to recreate the feeling that he was touching the side of your head.

Perhaps, the worst part of being away from home is your inability to ever interact with them in real-time. The time difference made it too exhausting for everyone on the other side of the world to communicate with you properly. Sure, there were rare days when they could, but the way their moon would rise when the sun said its greetings here made you swallow down your tears at night, forcing you to reassure yourself that ‘everything is going to be fine.’ Because of this, it was a routine for you to drown in your thoughts throughout the day, waking up with a heavy head and heart from the previous nights as you plaster on a weak but still genuine smile when you greet your coworkers. 

With the help of your housemates, your family and Sangyeon have managed to surprise you on both of your birthdays as well as some gaps between their schedules. Those memories would be the ones you would replay in your head as you cry your heart out in the middle of the bed that’s in the middle of the room, in the middle of the night.

Other than the visits and calls, the only things that would connect you to them are the daily pictures and videos. At the very least, they captured the lives of the ones you love back home. Unlike the memories that you could only see and keep for yourself, the physical evidence of their smiles is another big source of comfort for you, especially when all you wanted during your lonely walk home was just life updates from the people that you love most. Somewhere along the way though, the pictures and videos became too much for you, and you start to imagine what the picture would be like if you filled up the negative space within it. 

How would it be like to share that laughter, smile and experience of the atmosphere that the picture manages to capture? What was the air around there like? Humid? Cold? Warm? Aromatic? Or maybe perhaps, would you have been too entranced by Sangyeon’s presence that the only thing you could smell was his signature perfume mixed in with his laundry detergent? 

How would it feel just to have Sangyeon’s shoulder pressed up against yours whenever he has that habit of putting an arm around your back to grab the opposite side of your waist? To have his bigger hand securely intertwine with yours? To have him press a kiss on the side of your head after he whispers ‘I love you forever’ to your ears—knowing well that you were the only one in the world that he would ever confess that phrase intimately to.

How would it feel like to just have the familiar buildings of your neighbourhood, your city and the familiar murals or paintings in your life again? Would it be more comforting than the pictures of the same scenery on your phone? Would your heart be more at ease walking in the night even if all the lights were off or there were no signs of life?

As an answer to your thoughts, after two years of learning, gaining life experiences and missing the air of your home, you bravely decided not to pick up the pen on the table and sign your initials on the new contract paper. 

You decided: I’m going home. 

It’s been a really wild ride. A ride that you would never exchange for anything else. For one, you made friends from the other side of the world. Friends that you knew you could always hit up and visit if you ever come back. Two, it was real when people say that ‘the distance makes the heart grow fonder’. Sangyeon has always been the boyfriend who would cry and carry his burden alone but would always welcome your hardships into his life. Before, even though you could pick up some of the signs on some occasions, the limited video calls allowed you both to pour your feelings out, exchanging confessions and true thoughts. Had you not been across the world, you were confident that Sangyeon would step out of his shell eventually but you were thankful that the distance did its job healthily and your relationship with him strengthened with the tears and chuckles that he showed. 

When the time came and you finished training the new worker who would soon be taking your place in the company, you did your final preparations before stepping out of the house that sheltered you for two years. Final goodbyes, tears being shed, words of affirmation and promises for occasional updates were made before you drove off to the airport. Rolling down the car window, you twist your upper body to face the back of the car, your hand waving up in the air. 

The ride to the airport is bittersweet. You put your phone down after texting Sangyeon that you would call him when you pass through security. All you wanted to do at this moment was to look out the windows and take in the colours of the journey, half-scared that the scenery might turn monochrome soon if you didn’t pay close attention.

Keeping your promise, you connected your earphones and turned on your camera to be faced with Sangyeon leisurely lying in bed, one hand on the back of his head on the headboard, blinking his eyes to fight the sleep from his system.

“You should sleep.” 

Sangyeon shakes his head, straightening his back and sitting up. He takes a deep breath, his chest expanding in volume as he does so, “You only have a few minutes before you have to go anyway. I can stay awake and accompany you.”

“You’re the best, you know that?” 

Thankfully, you found a seat for yourself in the busy atmosphere. You place your backpack on the floor in front of you between your legs, being mindful of the other passengers in the busy airport who most probably had a long day before this, now having to spend overnight in a metal column.

“Love that hoodie on you. Where’d you get it?” Sangyeon wiggles his eyebrows playfully and you roll your eyes, “Good to know that you didn’t leave it behind.”

“I would be crazy to leave this behind.” You pull on the strings of the hoodie, fastening the circumference of the hood around the outline of your face, pouting cutely to your boyfriend who just laughs at you fondly.

“Can’t wait to hold you.” That sentence holds so many meanings and tugged on your heartstrings so much. It hurt for a bit to hear him say that, especially when his voice sounded so tired, “I love you so much.”

“I love you so much.” You whisper to the microphone, holding the tears that you didn’t want to show to your friends throughout the whole week, “I miss you so much. I can’t wait to go on physical, real-life dates again.”

“A few more hours.” He reminds the both of you, holding on just a little bit longer, “Everything will sort itself out then.”

That’s right.

A few more hours until you will both be able to be in the same space again. Just a little bit more before you’ll be able to steal a kiss from his lips whenever and wherever. 

You can’t wait to be back in the comfort of your bed, saying ‘goodnight’ to your parents and slipping out of your windows shortly after to meet Sangyeon at the convenience store. 

You can’t wait to spend some time with his mum—who he gets very jealous of sometimes—and steal more childhood, baby pictures of him. Along with that, you can’t wait for his mum to let you sneak into his room to steal some of his clothes. 

You can’t wait to see his blushing face as he freezes between the doorframe when his eyes land on how his sleeves would completely cover your arms, and your thighs and expose a little bit of your shoulders. 

You can’t wait for him to scoop you up in his strong arms, eliciting your series of squeals and giggles that he has fallen deeply in love with. 

You can’t wait for him to tuck you in bed, pulling his blanket up to your chin. He would then frame his larger body over yours throughout the night, making you sleep deeper and better. But your night, wouldn’t be complete until you delicately kiss him on his chin, cheek and lips. His night wouldn’t be complete either until he kissed your forehead, nose and lips, taking his sweet time on the last body part. 

Most importantly, the night wouldn’t be complete overall until your lips part each other and exchange ‘I love you’s.

As soon as you landed, the adrenaline of finally being in the same country, the same land, the same building knocked out the jetlag and you were suddenly wide awake. You felt a bit bad for the bottom of the seat in front of you and your backpack which was violently ripped out from its peace, but you would like to think that they would understand your sudden burst of energy. You race and slip yourself between the bodies of people who were most probably confused and amazed by how much your eyes were darting around the conveyor belt so quickly, trying to find your check-in baggage—but you didn’t care.

You care about is Lee Sangyeon.

Now, you passed through every security check, every random bag inspection, opening and relocking up all your luggage again one by one, your patience running out by the minute.

But it’s okay.

Because now, only one glass door stands in the way between you and all the people waiting on the other side. 

You watch from the distance as the automatic door opens and closes through other passengers. You were even able to catch a glimpse of some of your fellow flight passengers who spotted their loved ones immediately in the crowd, their hands releasing the handle brake of their trolley when they rushed into the crowd. Their loved ones cry and gasp at the presence that they have been so desperate for, their bodies swaying side to side to keep some of their emotions regulated in public.

Oh, how you know you wouldn’t be able to hold in your tears.

Exhaling and inhaling a couple more times, your hands grip the handle of your trolley, doing a final baggage check that everything is securely held in place and that you didn’t leave anything. Finally, you push the handle to release the brake and you start to walk over to the translucent glass doors. 

Time didn’t slow down. 

It just felt still. 

It didn’t stop though—it just felt still.

You could hear your heartbeat through your ears, your palms were sweating in nervousness and you could barely feel the ground that you were walking on with every step of your feet. The gush of wind pushes your hair back dramatically and your eyes water at the cooler air from the other side of the door. Metal barricades separate the arriving passengers from the crowd from both sides of your body and you force your teared-up eyes to carefully scan through the rows of the crowds and the signs that they held up. Your back straightens to accommodate your eyes’ effort in addition to your lips that move in the shape of the name of the person you miss the most. Unfamiliar faces fill your visual field and your feet finally take you to the end of the barricade, heart feeling heavy at the unsuccessful event to pick out anyone in the crowd that you know. 

But then…

“Found you.” 

His appearance explains why you were unable to quickly pick him out from the crowd if you didn’t focus on detail. Sangyeon grins at your shocked facial expression, watching your eyes slowly lift from the bouquet in his hands to the freshly black dye on his hair.

“Y-You—”

“What do you think?” His pointer and thumb raise to twirl a bit of his hair, his eyes still on you, “You always said that I would look good with black hair.”

“Good?” Oh, he knew what kind of effect this is having on you and he’s having fun with this, “Sangyeon, you—” 

His facial expression softens straightaway when the tears that you’ve been holding for so long finally drop to the ground and he strides forwards immediately as soon as he catches a glimpse of your quivering lips. Forget about the flowers, forget about the people around you, forget about how you were standing in the middle of the walkway. He sets his ‘welcome back’ gifts on top of your things, swiftly wrapping an arm behind your shoulders while the other one cups your cheeks. 

Sangyeon held your shaking body against his tightly, and it was good that he did, otherwise, you would surely be on the floor. You relished in the scent that you missed the most, purposely taking in deep breaths to ground yourself back to the present. The boy smiles at the realisation, letting your free cheek cutely rest on his chest. He hushes you softly, the swiping motion of his thumb on your cheek giving you a physical reminder of his presence—a reminder that he is with you at this very moment. Multiple kisses were pressed on your forehead in an attempt to calm you down and responded with a whimper as you tried to form words.

“It’s okay.” It really is, “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Your body responded to his affirmation, your arms finally wrapping around his waist, the tips of his fingers just barely intertwining behind his back. Your palms lay flat on his smooth leather jacket and your ragged breathing found a stable pace once again. The increased oxygen in your blood allows you to finally feel Sangyeon’s plump lips on your forehead and the blush begins to form across your cheekbones. 

“You’re really here.”

“I am.” You feel the way his chest vibrates at his deep chuckle. 

That’s all he said and it’s way more than enough. Eyes closed, in Sangyeon’s embrace, his familiar scent, his lips hovering on your eyelids to press kisses there—everything is starting to feel like home.

“You look handsome.” For the first time since you arrived, you finally look at this new hair colour properly. Your eyebrows furrow, almost a look of dissatisfaction and disapproval, “Too handsome.” This time, one of your eyebrows raised at the way he responded with a teasing smile, “How many people asked you out already?”

“Honestly,” He starts to act, tightly closing his eyes as if to think very hard. He prolonged his hum with the way you glared at him cutely, wanting to tease you for longer, “quite a lot.”

The answer made you scoff, tilting your head away and you started to pull away from his embrace. Sangyeon didn’t let you walk away fully though for he pulled you right back to his body. Your hands attempt to stabilise your body the sudden act by resting on the curves of Sangyeon’s shoulders. The playful look in his eyes disappears and the extra layer of moisture shows itself—it tells you that he has been waiting for the only person to ever see his tears to be within his arms again. Both his hands rest on your waist and your own eyes search for the emotions behind his, a hand wiping his lower eyelid. That act makes a tear fall before another one falls and it soon becomes a fountain of emotions for the older male.

“I missed you. So much.” The way that Sangyeon puts so much emphasis on the second and fourth words sent chills down your spine.

Your hand on his shoulder slides upwards to cup his face, the other downwards to do the same on the other side. With all the strength you have left in your legs, you put your weight on your toes, fluttering your eyelids close and lifting your body to press a longing kiss to his lips. You tasted his tears on the curves on his lips, but knowing well that it stemmed from love, made your heart slowly start to heal. Sangyeon reciprocates immediately, travelling his hands to the side curves of your body, stopping at your neck, gently tilting your face upwards to deepen the kiss. The kiss sweetly alternates with his own hugging your bottom lips, pulling away for oxygen, a little ‘I love you’ and diving back in to hug your upper lips.

This is what home feels like.

It’s not some building or some land that could be pointed out on a map. It’s not necessarily the photos and videos that you received, even though they comforted you on cold nights. It’s not necessarily the rushed talks and recounts of your lives because the second hand on the clock mocked the little time you would always have, even though you were thankful that you had that small gap to do so.

It’s actually experiencing all of the above, going through all those trials, all those confusing emotions, and still feeling love and support. It’s being able to just walk with defeat over the day’s work but as soon as you arrive back home, the feeling either washes away or you’re able to just vent it and cry it out. 

With the right people, you were able to let these experiences turn into lessons and precious memories—similar to how there are specific bricks to build the proper structure of a house. As those experiences build, so does the clear image and structure of a house. Sure, houses break down due to inside and outside factors but when it does, you’re confident that you can work it out and make it stronger. 

With those thoughts in mind, the corner of your lips tugged upwards and no words were needed for Sangyeon to know that the smile wasn’t mischievous, teasing or playful.

It’s one full of relief and happiness.

“Welcome home.” Sangyeon changes his words between your kisses.

You hum, waiting for the next time he pulls away to give a proper response.

“I’m home.”

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 'especially to you' tags (send a dm/ask if you would like to be here!): @deoboyznet 📢❤️ @k-labels 💙🤍 @k-films 🤎🎞️

that's him, that's just who he is | tbz lee sangyeon

» ​PAIRING: tbz lee sangyeon x gn! reader (implied afab reader...?)​ » TROPE/AU​: childhood friends 2 strangers » GENRE​: angst!, comfort later (more like a peace of mind after all the angst), little bit of fluff from the flashback » WORD COUNT: 2985 » ESTIMATED READING TIME: ~11 mins » WARNINGS (lmk if i missed anything!): as far as i'm aware, none! navi/masterlist!! 🤍 series introduction 🤍 series masterlist

my first story for my personal healing project!

this story reflects how i personally see sangyeon and i am a bit worried that i made it 'too personal' to the point that you guys won't really understand what's going on 😭😭 but i really hope this isn't the case.

another thing i want to emphasise and add! i'm still not used to writing for gn!reader so please, if you see something that should be changed, tell me straightaway! 😭😭 this is a very important topic and as much as i've proof read it, i am still able to make mistakes!

other than that...let's go!

“I’m home!” 

The house chorused in a series of ‘welcome back’s and variants of ‘omg! I need to tell you something!’. You hug your mum in the kitchen, craning your head forward to her shoulder, observing her working hard on the food that she’s making for the neighbourhood party that is happening across the road from your house in about two hours or so.

You relax in contentment as the smell of your mum’s homemade food fills the whole house and you can’t help but let out a deep sigh to relish the familiarity of it, only being able to get a whiff of the aroma maybe once a week, sometimes unfortunately even less.

“How was work?” Your mum strikes up the conversation when you put your chin on her shoulder, your whole body almost dangling if you could due to the exhaustion, “You look like you’re enjoying it.”

You roll your eyes in response, whining for your sister across the other side of the room, in front of the television to keep it down as you could barely hear the sizzling of the meat on the frying pan, “Well, it’s fine, I guess?” 

“Why? Cause at the very least you can see the love of your life?” Your chin detaches from your mother’s comfort, your spine straightening and you let out a gasp, almost scandalous at the words your mum just said, “Hey! You were the one who told me that all your co-workers were teasing you both for that ring on your finger!”

“True.” 

A radiant smile pulls up on your lips when you remember the way your partner knelt on one knee after casually asking you “Do you want to have little, mini versions of us walking around someday?” You, being slow, just leisurely answered back with a “Duh! Of course!” and before you knew it, the ring on your left fourth finger solidified the promises between you two to make that, and so much more happen.

Leaning onto the cupboard that stretches from the floor to the top of the ceiling, you play with the continuous silver band and the shiny diamond protruding on your ring finger. Already touching and feeling it so many times, you remember its grooves and design happily, reciting the next spaces of the ring in your head easily. The smile pulls up further on your face and you squeal at the thought of you walking down the aisle soon.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Your sister shouts in obvious annoyance, “You told me to be quiet and now you’re the one being loud!”

Ugh, this little demon.

“And what are you doing when mum is obviously working her ass off in the kitchen?” You observe your very very lazy sister’s surroundings: she rests her whole body on her side to watch the blown-up performance stage of one of the many groups that she likes, fully stretching and sprawling on the whole couch, bags of opened processed foods on the glass coffee table within her reach and her phone somewhere in the messy pile, “Geez, do something productive for once in your life.”

“Hey.” She finally sits up, not bothering to pause the big screen as the cheers of the fans could be heard clearly and from the corner of your eyes, you could see the new ‘ending fairy’ trend in the new generation of K-Pop, zooming from one member to the next, “Being happy is being productive.”

And you couldn’t refute that, knowing that she was absolutely right.

“Hey!” Your mum hollers your attention back to the kitchen behind you, the steam of the soup creating a soft and white fluffy barrier between her somewhat mischievous and guilty grin, “Do you mind helping out with the mango dessert? I don’t think I can finish it in time. I slept in and started preparations late.”

“Sure!” You immediately agree, glad to be spending some time with your mum anyway, “I’ll just quickly wash up and change. I’ll be right there!”

The routine isn’t anything special for a regular neighbourhood party: shower, do some quick skincare, put on light makeup, style your hair appropriately, match it with appropriate attire and off you go to the kitchen with an apron to save your clumsy, silly self.

“What do you need me to make?” Your eyes quickly scan the fruits, ice, beverages and decorative flowers.

“Your sister was craving some fruit punches. I only have mango and passionfruit available.” Your mum sets some more ingredients for you to use on the kitchen island before turning away to face the stove once more, “You’re good at making these things.” 

“That’s just an excuse right, mum?” The older woman chuckles, nodding in agreement.

You were about to ask your sister to get an idea of what exactly she wanted but the underaged sibling suddenly squeals and the beginnings of a soft instrumental bounce from the walls of the house before a deep, gentle timbre sings. Your lips twitch when the younger girl turns up the volume at the masked man on the television screen. 

“I should add alcohol to this.” You mutter as you start to work on the drink, focusing intently back on your work.

But along the way…

Is a voice from deep within you telling to to listen carefully to the male singer.

When your hand retrieves the unpeeled mango, you stare at it fondly, turning your hand to observe the little marks and imperfections on the skin. Suddenly, the fruit didn’t seem to just be a fruit. The orange-yellow shading reminds you of a boy from your childhood who had the same hoodie as the colour and you remember how he said he would dye his hair to be the same colour when he could one day when he gets older.

Having some sort of background to hair and colouring as your auntie has a salon herself, you commented that it would need a couple of bleaches and an unhealthy hair condition for him to achieve the vibrant colour. You could hear the surprised and stuttering voice in your head, compromising his choice to have a more pastel, lighter look rather than the look that would totally steal the attention of any crowd. 

Smiling at the really faint memory, you couldn’t help but sigh as you recalled that you no longer had contact with your primary school best friend. You both separated when you entered different high schools and despite promising to still have daily meetups in the neighbourhood park, you immersed yourself in your studies as he immersed himself further with the things he wanted to do. It was somewhat bitter but you both had the feeling it was coming anyway. Ultimately, you were glad that the friendship didn’t fade away because of some dramatic high school, hormonal drama.

“Lee Sangyeon, you’re such a good singer ugh!”

“W-Wait…” Your fingers quickly retract from the fruit peeler, whipping your head to the television at the familiar first name that your sister cheerfully shouted for.

It’s also when you realise that your sister isn’t watching live television but rather a replay of a video;  I mean, it had to be a replay because your sister obviously knew the name of the singer even when he still had his mask on to conceal his identity. 

Unknowingly, your eyes stuck to the screen, the mango slowly rolling out of your grip, your breath hitching as the familiarity of the song starts to take over your whole mind. The first observation you had was that his voice changed drastically. It wasn’t as high pitched and the lower register made your entire system start to relax when your lips unconsciously started moving to the shape of the lyrics to the song.

And there he was.

When the MC announced the name that you knew all too well, every muscle in your body froze except for the ones around your eyes as you couldn’t help but let a tear slip out. The nostalgia hits you and the second observation you had was that his smile never changed. It was still the gentle, wide ones that he always offered you whenever he answered your ridiculous questions or when he would ask you to accompany him to play on the swings instead of the slide. No, he didn’t have that hair colour that he talked about with you around fifteen years ago but his light brown shade showed you that he definitely did use similar hair products to achieve the look. 

But that smile.

That smile told you a lot; one of them being that you were sure that Lee Sangyeon was still a very much reliable, positive person.

Even when he introduced himself to the audience, bowing politely as his hair was all messed up due to him taking off his mask, you could tell that even though he was nervous and most probably sweating buckets, he still beats all the allegations from when you were children saying that he looks cold and unfriendly.

His smile and the way his eyes disappear behind his eyelids make the corner of your lips lift as well; even his eyes still hold a smile similar to his lips. It contrasted heavily with his no evident smile, the vertical lines between his eyebrows and how he only made short bursts of eye contact with the audience when he was singing beforehand. 

“You should just become a singer! Not an astronaut!”

“Should I?” Sangyeon could barely kick the surface of the sand with his legs, adjusting his posture on the swings to make sure that the swinging didn’t make him fall off to the ground and potentially embarrass himself in front of all the other kids, adults and their pets.

“For sure!” You exclaim, excitingly rattling the metal chains that held your weight in the air. You lean forward a little bit to escape the said chains and observe your friend beside you, “You have such a gentle personality and I could see you becoming the best leader ever! I could see you taking control, making sure that everything will go well and just being really reliable. Or you could go solo but honestly, it would be fun to see you dancing on stage.”

“Oh come on!” The little boy grunts in response to your laughing, recalling the way he was forcibly picked out from the crowd to do a little routine. Needless to say, he ran down the stage to sit back down with you, hiding his reddened face behind his arms above his knees, “Was I really that bad?”

“Nah.” You immediately saw the smile from back, “You looked a bit silly though.”

Sangyeon rolls his eyes away, still with a wide grin on his face as he observes the sun setting behind the trees and he takes notice of the way the warmth from the orange light slowly disappears from the top of his head to his forehead and is now down to just his chin.

“Well, I’ll just have to go with the flow, I guess.” You admire the way that Sangyeon looked at life. At such a young age, you always thought that he was mature and would take the cruel obstacles that life threw at him one step at a time, “It’s simpler that way anyways.”

His positivity definitely grew on you healthily and he would occasionally remind you that even though life is crap, it’s okay to feel like the whole world is against you and to cry once in a while. Your friendship with Sangyeon most definitely strengthened your mental health and amidst the hard times in life, you also believed that good things would happen one by one slowly. 

“As they say,” You follow his gaze to the barely visible hemisphere that was once high in the day, “Simple is Sangyeon.”

“But I guess I still want to be greedy and achieve all the things that I want quickly with whatever it is that I’ll pursue.”

The little chuckle that escaped from you made Sangyeon turn his attention back. He then sees the series of nods and your closed smile before hearing your approving hum, “Fair enough, fair enough.”

That was around the end of primary school and was one of the last regular meetups before high school where it became irregular and unsteady. 

You were happy though. You still are.

You’re happy that you met Sangyeon even though life took you to your different, diverse paths. Making friends in high school was a big pain in the ass as you had to start all over again from basic introductions and discussions of hobbies. It was so much easier because Sangyeon’s extroverted self carried you to make friends and drag other people into the conversation easily.

“You alright?” 

Your feet had a mind of itself when you realised that the television wasn’t on your ten o’clock anymore but more like your twelve. The younger at the couch had her legs tucked in beneath her body, kneeling on the leather sofa with both of her eyebrows raised in suspicion and concern.

“Y-Yeah.” You gesture to the big screen with a chin tilt, “So…which group is this?”

“THE BOYZ! Oh my gosh, this is what I was going to tell you about when you walked into the house! Look! There are eleven members and they’re all so handsome!” 

The contrasting volume between the two siblings, as they engaged in their back-to-back conversation, had the older woman from the kitchen sighing at ease. Though time was running out and they needed to finish as soon as possible to avoid being late (or being late at an unmannered time), she could see how her oldest child bent their upper body down and used their elbows to support their weight on the backrest of the couch while her youngest flips through the various video contents of the said group. She also remembers the existence of the now way more mature boy that she once knew personally and she has always been aware that even though the friendship ended peacefully, it was still hard on you as you jumped from group to group to find the right people to spend your time with.

Turning the red line of the stove knob to ‘off’, picking up the steaming pot and placing it on top of the coaster to the barely changed arrangement of ingredients that she sets for the dessert on the kitchen island, she lets out an exhale that blows the fragrant ginger away from her face. She didn’t have the heart to tell any of her children to help her out anymore, not when the younger was enthusiastically teaching the older the names of all the members once again after the latter only recalled around three of the names; the mother thought it was a good effort already on her behalf. 

Similar to the stuttering one who points at the still unfamiliar member, she rests her elbows on the cold table stone, one of her palms as a rest for her cheek. The ‘ten more minutes!’ reminder on her phone rang but as soon as the first note blared, the mother let out a quick, surprised sound, lunging to reach her phone across the island, tapping on the ‘silent’ button repeatedly, not wanting to break the chaotic atmosphere of her two kids, “I guess after all these years…”

Finally making the final decision inside her head, she opens the group chat for all the mothers in the neighbourhood to tell them that they won’t be able to make it to the monthly gathering. Amidst the happy squealing and claps when you were able to recite all the members’ names, the front door clicks open to reveal the other parental figure for the two busy children.

“What’s up with those two?” The man amusedly comments at his two precious children, dipping his head down to kiss his wife, “Don’t tell me they tried something for the first time.”

“No, no, no.” Immediately backing up the radiant smiles on both the younger’s faces that pasted on their faces across the room. The couple stays in the hallway, watching the way that you finally sit down on the couch properly next to your sister who shows you yet another stage and a song that you were sure was going to make it to your main playlist, “Let’s just say that there’s a boy who not only makes our oldest the happiest, but now also our youngest.”

“Well,” The dad exhales happily at the good news. One of his hands tucks itself into his pants pocket, the other wrapping around the waist of his lovely wife, “that’s good to hear. Sounds like a decent guy. Who is it?”

“Lee Sangyeon.”

“Damn,” he nods, slightly pouting as he reflects on his own actions, “maybe I should take notes from this guy.”

“Don’t be silly, love. You’re a great dad.” Before kissing another reassuring kiss onto his lips, “Lee Sangyeon…he’s just that type of person, you know?”

“What type?”

“The type that’s capable of making people happy.”

You and your sister finally take notice of the new figure in the house, jumping from your seats to tackle your parents in a hug. More variations of ‘welcome back’s and ‘omg! I need to tell you something!’ spewed out the still-excited youngsters. Your mum calms you both down from your jumping sprees, placing a hand on each of your backs. You make eye contact with your mum and she could see the swirls of adoration, peacefulness and a sort of…relief just swimming freely in your eyes.

The hand on your back runs up and down, your mother understanding how you feel without you even saying it. Once more, she lets her thoughts run and thanks the boy on the screen who was a strong figure in your childhood:

“That’s you. That’s just who you are, Sangyeon.”

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 series introduction 🤍 series masterlist tags (send a dm/ask if you would like to be here!): @deoboyznet 📢❤️ @k-labels 💙🤍 @k-films 🤎🎞️

that's him, that's just who he is | tbz kevin moon

» ​PAIRING: tbz kevin moon x gn! reader (proofread but lmk if i missed anything!)​ » TROPE/AU​: childhood friends 2 strangers, highschool and slight uni au!, non-idol au!, idol au! (just kevin towards the end) » GENRE​: once again...angst, fluff and comfort from the flashbacks, kevin being an extremely supportive friend, you're also an extremely supportive friend!, platonic 'i love you's being said, you both met at church, choir and ensemble singing!, you both are shy introverts that are only chaotic with each other » WORD COUNT: 4179 (2k word limit who?) » ESTIMATED READING TIME: ~15 mins » WARNINGS (lmk if i missed anything!): mentions of Christianity (not sure if it's a 'warning' but i felt like it should be mentioned!), swearing (b-word), mentions stress relating to: academic (high school), music and performing » PLAYLIST: you never know - HSMTMTS, you better know - red velvet, reflection - christina aguilera, steal the show - lauv, try everything - shakira navi/masterlist!! 🤍 series introduction 🤍 series masterlist

my second story for my project! this may be my favourite story ever ❤️‍🩹

ahhhh this got so personal so quickly 🥹 performing has always been for leisure for me, and for the same reasons in this story, i got so burnt out last year. writing this really made me realise how much i miss the stage. going from about 7 performances a year to only about 1 is to put it simply, heartbreaking.

but i learnt that there are opportunities. i learnt that i'm satisfied with just getting my voice out to the world whether it be through choir, the internet or on the streets. i think things will work out; time does help sometimes 🫶

for those who may not know, kevin's representative number is 16 🌙 and the meaning of this number is explained in this video! i did some research and found that it's from 1 Peter 5:6.

to my readers who are followers of God: I pray that you will always be filled with hope and joy as you advance in your daily endeavours. Believe that God has the best plans for you and that He will never leave you behind, especially when you are at your lowest. Confide in Him and love Him as much as He loves you.

“Can I sing this part with Kevin?”

The question is new to everyone who heard it. Did you just ask to do a supposed solo with someone else? No, you were not a greedy performer though you understood why most people would think that. The choir conductor looks to the other side of the ensemble where the group of altos stood. Including the older woman, all the children including the said boy stood there surprised at the request you asked for.

You’ve been singing in the church youth choir since you were ten and you were incredibly gifted. For example, you landed most of the solos and smaller ensemble parts whenever there was a chance. At first, you didn’t want to be in this church because you were shy (incredibly shy) and you never made a lot of friends in school and most definitely, outside of school. Needless to say, your parents were pretty worried but at the very least, they found that when you were asked to go to church events, you were able to talk with people, smile, and laugh but then you would go back into your shell.

Your parents met at this church through singing and performing together as part of the choir and the band. The children were around your age but you found that your interests mainly conflicted with them and it was hard to keep up with their conversations.

So, when a certain Moon family moved into your area and started attending their local church, Kevin, who happens to be a boy who is incredibly gifted in music, joined the choir with that unique, radiant, excited smile on his face. With a simple and friendly “Hello everyone. My name is Kevin, I’m fifteen and am very excited to be here!” Contrasting to his introduction, you found that Kevin was just as introverted as you were and with your courage to finally approach someone, you made your first friend. School life became better as well when you found out that Kevin attended the same school as you.

Going back to the first dialogue though, the duet did happen and the church community knew that you both were the perfect musical partners for each other. Your softer soprano voice complimented Kevin’s deeper alto voice easily. You both found yourself auditioning, performing, and showcasing your team work together in a bunch of school, church, and even the larger community-based musical events. 

Now, after eight years of joining the choir, three after meeting Kevin, you were both in a state of uncertainty, distress, and frustration with the piles of sheet music that scattered everywhere to the point where it was almost covering the surface of your room’s floor. Your hair strands were everywhere and you were sick with the school uniform that you’ve had on since seven in the morning. You both have been secluding yourselves in your room, going back and forth with the arrangement of your final high school piece that you are going to perform with Kevin within less than a week.

The current situation in one word: messy. 

It’s all a mess. About a week ago out of nowhere, your voice decided to have its own mind and leave for about a week. Kevin had a sudden test that his teacher thought would be fun to assign at the last minute. You also had this assignment that you were going to do but you found a mistake in the written arrangement, a note that was about a tone and a half out of your range, and since Kevin was better at rhythm, arrangement, and using the composing software, you could only sit next to his left in the corner of your room as he groaned at how the app was not doing what you both wanted to do.

So yes…it’s a mess, and it’s been around three hours.

“This is impossible.” A few more of your tears manage to trickle down your already red, puffy cheeks, “Okay you know what, I’ll just sing it. It’s fine. It’s not even two tones above what I usually sing in AND I’ve done it befo—”

“Lost your voice and felt lightheaded after.” Kevin cuts off your panicked rambles. No doubt, he’s feeling all the things that you are feeling right now but the only reason why he’s still able to muster up a smile and just ‘inhale, exhale’ through it all is because at the very least, one of you should be able to stay grounded, “We’re not going to put out a performance that we’re not proud of, okay? Especially when this is our last high school performance together.”

“We also said that we wouldn’t do any performances that were out of our capabilities.” At these words, you were both reminded of the promise you made to each other in front of your melted ice creams. It was an ‘oath’ that was made when you both realised you would be standing on the same stage, at the same time more often:

We will finish every performance to the best of our capabilities. We will focus more on quality rather than quantity.

At the new educational path that you were about to embark on, automatically closing this one that you’ve been on for just about six years, you were both starting to get greedy, wanting more than anything now to be on stage. With you both turning eighteen, you both couldn’t sing with the youth choir anymore. Taking music as a subject in high school meant there was a certain prerequisite in terms of how many stages you would have to perform; you and Kevin always exceeded this regardless with solos, duets, or larger ensembles. With graduation, however, the granted opportunity to perform would be taken away from you both and you were getting restless.

You were both greedy, forgetting almost all the other priorities that you had set out, and raked the internet for any chances to perform on stage. For the last two months, both of you have been juggling between your heavy study load, auditioning, composing, arranging, practising, and bowing at the end of it all. To the untrained ear, they could have probably missed the way you were momentarily out of tune or the way that Kevin missed his entry due to his fatigue. The greed consumed you both and most of the stages that you performed were nowhere near satisfactory for any standards that you both set for yourself. After the first performance that you were bashing yourself over, you rationalised that you would need to do another one to make up for the ‘loss’ from the previous one. That you NEED to go to another stage to make up for the ‘loss’ from the previous one.

That cycle is deadly and it keeps going for a while.

“Kev…I’m tired.” It feels like after a whole three years of back-to-back, almost seemingly non-stop performances in addition to the sudden addition from the past two months, you have finally hit a wall that you never wanted to admit. Kevin didn’t need verbal words to know the reason behind the lack of enthusiasm and the way the lyrics sing are no longer as projected and emotionful as before; because it was the same way to him.

“I know…” Kevin sighs. He finally relieves the downward strain on his neck, pulling it back up to rest against the wall. Offering you both comfort, he wraps his arm around the back of your shoulder, his palm pulling your left forearm to get you closer to him, “I’m sorry, I can’t get this right.”

“No, don’t say that.” You finally give in, plopping your head on his left shoulder in defeat, “I’m sorry. You’re doing your best.”

You let most of the silence fill you both, the hints of the trackpad clicking and the way the note that Kevin clicked would play out of his laptop’s speaker to audibly confirm the note that he just readjusted on the musical lines. Kevin’s left hand is maneuvering on the trackpad while his hand pats on your head that rested on his left shoulder, humming comfortingly while you calm your racing thoughts.

“But hey.” Kevin finally speaks up, “I just wanted to say that I like how busy this is making me.” Nodding to his own words, “It makes me forget the other subjects for a while.”

You exhale, knowing how much Kevin has been having a hard time with the other core subjects but still wakes up every day and chooses to smile courageously, “But this isn’t the right way. To forget other things, I mean.”

“I know, I know.” The boy lets out a little ‘aha’ when he finally finds the rhythm that you both wanted, playing the bar again and again, tapping his index finger on his thigh as he follows the 4/4 count, “But hey, thanks for accepting this performance even with all the final year-end exams. Or else I would REALLY be overthinking that recent chemistry test.”

“Love you, bro.” Reminding him thoughtfully to calm the noise in his head, “I’m always here for you.”

“Love you too, sis.” Playfully, he makes a fist and gently taps your forehead with his knuckles, emitting a laugh from you, “Just take a rest, okay? I’ll just,” Kevin adjusts his slouching posture, straightening his back fully against the wall so that his shoulders are higher and more comfortable for you to lay on, “be on another war with this app. You would expect I know all the tricks after using it for a year but guess not.”

So yes, it was a bit of a mess but on the bright side, you are both extremely proud of that final stage together as high school students. It earned a huge round of applause from the audience and many thankful regards were given by all the teachers in the department of music. It was a bittersweet feeling to see the head of music cry at the realisation that he would never see his two best students attend his class anymore but he made you both promise to visit once in a while.

But the performance being an open event, neither of you realised the opportunities or the types of people that would attend the concert. And so here you both are in an educational setting but with casual clothing unlike the blazer, tie, and the one hundred percent cotton blouses that you were forced to wear.

“Gosh Kev, you’re so funny!” Kevin smiles nervously, biting on his bottom lip as he refuses to look at you at all. You continued to laugh a little bit more, the tears in your eyes and the stitch on your abdomen growing with each breath you took. It’s when Kevin doesn’t laugh along or show any indications of joining in that you raise your eyebrows, some sort of nervousness in your eyes, “Wait, you’re being serious?!”

“It’s crazy, I know!” You just stare at him in shock, your mouth hanging wide open at your best friend next to you, “I think I’ll take the chance and university can wait. People can apply to university anytime but this?” He is finally telling you his worries and thoughts that have been running endlessly after two months of keeping it in, “It’s kind of time crucial.”

"Yes,” You understood his worries, knowing that the life of being a celebrity or an idol is quite limited. It has never been said explicitly but at least for Korean companies, there is a reason why there is always a certain age limitation when auditioning, “I get that but Kevin, are you sure? I get that you've always been into music and you've always been good at it! Trust me, I know! But you've always wanted to be here as well! You never really wanted to be a musical artist."

"That's why life is crazy right?"

You just finished your last class of the day and surprisingly Kevin shows up, waiting for you, looking conflicted and stressed about a subject that you obviously did not know about. His tired smile told you everything, you being able to read him easily like an open book. Kevin realises this, his shoulder slumping in defeat with how you look at him in concern and he feels your hesitation to keep the conversation going.

“Your ‘passive-aggressive tiger parents’ are good with it?”

“Well,” Reminded of the day that Stella convinced their parents to let him go with his path and to support his desires, “I guess so? They let me do everything and introduced me to music so it ain't my fault!" He finally turns to you for the first time after the laughing fit, "You’ll support me right?"

"Of course I will!" You confirm incredulously, both your eyebrows raising and the volume of the sentence rising with each word, “Damn we only met a bit over three years ago but it really does feel like we’ve been friends since birth.”

Kevin shrugs, happy with your genuine response to his uncertainties, “I’m just cool in that way.”

A roll of your eyes is your only response to him, “So, when’s the last time that I’ll see your ‘slay’ful face?”

He grimaces at the way you worded the adjective, “Ew, what is that word?” But then the truth had to be dropped someday; that being right now, “Y-Yeah about that.”

“Kevin Moon.” You frown at the way he just whistles to avoid the subject, an obvious action to buy time, “Kevin.”

"Not too soon! Like…like five days…"

Comedically, the crows on the campus made their signature noise and you took in the information slowly.

"WHAT THE BLEEP DUDE?!"

"OKAY IN MY DEFENCE I REALLY DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO! YOU KNOW HOW INDECISIVE I AM!"

"OKAY BUT YOU NEVER BOTHERED TO TELL ME?!"

"I'M SORRY!"

Smiling at the obvious decrease in the stack of papers that needed to be marked, you decide to stretch your limbs and take a breath of fresh air before your energetic third graders arrive at school. You really left it to the last minute and you can’t wait to finish the last day of the week so that you can chill until another week starts. The weather was strangely gloomy, possibly due to the rainfall and the colder wind. You kind of regretted coming out, especially since the steam from your coffee no longer had that hypnotising white swirl in the air.

But you didn’t leave.

Instead, you even lean over the balcony’s metal railing. Even with the long sleeve covering your elbows, you enjoyed the contrast between your still-healthy body temperature and the icy surface. You weren’t sure why either but you just wanted to bask in the cold air and you can only pray that you weren’t going to get sick. The weather causes your shoulders to tense, bringing them towards the centre of your body to try and conserve some heat. It didn’t work that well but you were still feeling some sort of comfort with the morning weather. 

You didn’t realise the time that passed by faster when you were practically doing nothing. The driveway, parking lots, and walkways eventually fill themselves with the diverse colours of school bags, shoes, and hair accessories. Mentally preparing yourself for the day ahead, you prepared your ‘teacher smile’, trying your best to hide your fatigue from the seemingly long week. 

"Teacher, teacher!" 

You finally lean away from the railing, giving a slight nod to the parent of your most energetic student, and the gesture is returned straight away. Crouching down to match his eye level, you put your palm out to him and he slaps his palm on yours, "Wow. Looks like someone had too much sugar."

"Teacher! Do you know K-Pop?" Your body froze just like the raindrops that didn’t make it to the floor, hanging solid on the rooftop’s overhang, "It's a huge thing right now!"

Oh, if only he knew…

"I can hear your rumbling thoughts like an open book." After his flustered state and a string of apologies that led you to put him in a joking headlock, Kevin grew quiet once again, letting his thoughts fill in the atmosphere between you both, "What's up? And don't lie because you know you suck at it."

The boy attempts to change the subject again, "If it's a book then wouldn't it be read instead of heard?"

"...ok smartass." You stare at him unimpressed with his attempt, "But no seriously, what's up? You know that it's okay not to be okay."

"It's just that…" He ponders, a sad smile on his face as he thinks about his current life situation, "My life is fine as it is right now. It's all great: I'm going to a good university, studying the course I want and I'm looking forward to being a teacher." An eyebrow slowly raised on your side, prompting him to continue, "Why is this happening now? Why is this happening when everything is going fine?" Kevin's facade finally breaks, his eyes pooling with tears with the many unanswered questions, "Why didn't this opportunity come earlier? Maybe when I wasn't in university? I can't even get a refund now…"

"Hey…" Kevin rarely cries in public. For one, you've only seen him cry twice and both times were because he dived in too deep with his plans, making him depressed and lost. You realised once again, with the tears that fell on his jeans that Kevin is not the happy-go-lucky guy who he displays himself to be most of the time. He's human above everything else and even though he always tries to see the best in every situation, it's moments like these that you see your best friend in a different light than the rest of the world, "Money is not all to life, you know? What's the point of stacking up money when you can't even do what you want?"

"But then why would people be so money-crazed then? People work for money…"

"To use it on what they love and need. Some people don't even feel like work is for money." Even though Kevin just stares down at the floor, swinging his legs in the air, you know that he's taking in everything you're saying, "But that's beside the point right now, okay? If making the stage your usual routine will lead you to happiness, then I want you to take it." 

"But…why?" The clause can never be fully answered and Kevin knew that despite his multiple endeavours to rake for answers, "Why me? When everything is going well?"

"Because God has different plans for you." Inhaling the colder air, you told yourself to remember this moment between you and him, "I'm not saying you're pretending to be someone you're not. But the moment that you stop pretending, the moment you accept that something out there is better for you, I think will be the moment when you finally accept yourself."

"Are you positive that it'll come?" His voice decreased, along with the final bits of his self-confidence, "The journey of self-acceptance, I mean."

You both have been talking in hushed whispers, as gentle as the whistling wind. But you decide to finally add confidence into the conversation.

"Hey Kevin." The said boy looks up to you, "Humble yourselves, therefore, under God's mighty hand…"

"...that he may lift you in due time." He finishes the biblical passage that he has been fascinated with for the longest time. 

Satisfied, you nod, proud of him, "I can't answer your 'whys', Kevin. To be honest, I don’t think anyone can." You finally voice your opinion, knowing now that your time with him is limited, "But just know that even though you would have strived here in university, one of God's greatest gifts for you is your musicality."

Your words relieve Kevin of his headache, heartache, and the shirt that he has been clamping since the start of the day. You chuckle when Kevin asks for a hug, opening your arms wide to offer him the best comfort that he will forever cherish and be thankful for. Soothingly, you sway your body side to side, humming the melody to the latest (and last) song that you performed together. Kevin joins in with his harmony which has always left people in awe and starstruck.

"Maybe you're just meant to be up there and twerk in front of the camera and not just to our friends." You comment when the song comes to an end.

"Wow, alright." His sniffles didn't cease even when he dragged the final 'w' and 't'.

"You'll be okay, Kevin." The light but secure taps on his back prove your reassuring words, "I know you will." 

"Surely…right?" It's the final question that he would ever ask you about this subject, "As we know, not everything we see on the screen is real. I just feel like I'll lose myself because the idol world wants us to be a certain way."

"No, I don't think you will." You pull Kevin away, pouting at his flushed cheeks and tired face, "I know it's stressful to keep up with society but I hope you know that there will be people that will love and support you. And if you make a mistake? If you lose yourself in shape, way, or form? Then you fight. You fight for your rights and fight for them righteously. You’ll fight because like you always say: learn from relationships. You learn the do's and not do's and still keep the relationship genuine."

“You have that much faith in me?”

“I do.” You tilt your chin high in the air, confidence finally reaching him in the form of a bright smile, "And for those who don’t,” You shake your head, flipping your hair back sassily, “those bitches can walk out the door."

You remember the memory somewhat fondly. To be honest, you found it a bit funny because you lost your best friend over music. You would learn after his departure that you would never find a friend like him ever again. Ironically, it was music that brought you two together—yet it was the same thing that drifted you both apart. 

It took a while for you to bounce back. You grew bitter about doing music especially when Kevin no longer answered any of your messages anymore out of nowhere. When you bumped into Stella while grocery shopping, you found out that it was because of his phone ban as a trainee. You remember going home that day, feeling guilty that you blamed him, not considering his external situation; especially when you knew that Kevin would never cut someone off without an explanation. Yes, it’s been lonely; you did lose your best friend after all. At first, you regretted letting him go, you resented him for not texting you back and you avoided the stage because it reminded you of him.

But God had a different plan for you too. Because when you accidentally clicked on one of the recommended videos on your page, the satisfied smile, the happy tears and the relieved exhale showed your real feelings that you were merely in a phase of confusion. All the hate, all the resentment, all faded as soon as you heard the slightly changed vocal timbre that you unfortunately are no longer used to. You found peace with the person who dances happily underneath the flashing, colourful lights with ten other boys.

“Teacher?” The boy’s innocent head tilt pulls you back to the present time and he seems pleased with the way you nod to his question, “I like K-Pop too! I found this group! They’re called THE BOYZ!”

You were amazed at the stars that the topic put to your student’s eyes and you nodded intently to his excited story. It’s not long after when the mother pushes her child in, sitting him down so that you can get on with your priorities. You straighten your knees, standing back up, pushing your hips out side to side to stretch from the unexpectedly long conversation.

“Damn, Kev…” Your shoulders and chest rise at the deep breath and your hands find their place on your hips,  “And after all these years…you’re still able to make me smile?”

The starting bell rang just in time for your last student to arrive just before you closed the glass door to block out the outside background noise. With the final student ready and set up, you stand in front of the electronic board that displays the first class of the day. Your mind begins to wonder again, particularly about the boy that you once shared a dream with. Routinely, you rhythmically clap to grab everyone’s attention, and surely enough, the conversations between the students die down, and you give back the fond look that your students gave you. 

“Shall we start music class?”

The enthusiastic response answers your wondering thoughts and the question you asked yourself outside the classroom.

“Guess that’s just you, Kevin. That’s just who you are, Kev.”

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 series introduction 🤍 series masterlist tags (send a dm/ask if you would like to be here!): @deoboyznet 📢❤️ @k-labels 💙🤍 @k-films 🤎🎞️ @kflixnet 📺🍿

the warmest winter | tbz choi chanhee | new

"She has a date with me tomorrow."

​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! (has her hair up in a bun), 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.”

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 tags (send a dm/ask if you would like to be here!): @deoboyznet 📢❤️ @k-labels 💙🤍 @k-films 🤎🎞️ @kflixnet 📺🍿

cupid's mistake | tbz kim sunwoo

“Now that’s a mistake that I can live with.”

​PAIRING » the boyz kim sunwoo x fem!reader (ft. nct's na jaemin) TROPE/AU » friends to lovers, non-idol au!, high school au! GENRE »​ THIS WAS SO FLUFFY UWU, but also add those angsts!!, SLIGHTLY suggestive (one makeout scene, sunwoo leaves kissing marks near your collarbones), love triangle...?, (kinda) slowwww burn, i love supportive and attentive sunwoo who gives so much love to the reader, MUTUAL PINING (they're both blind aye), sunwoo is an idiot because he PUSHES THE READER AWAY GRRR, cliché cause i live for this hehe, sunwoo babysits the reader's little bro (cutie sunwoo), sunwoo is the type to give the reader physical space because she's overwhelmed, reader blushing at sunwoo, a terrible attempt at comedy, oh...i think i'm in love with kim sunwoo again (i literally changed my bias to hyunjae like a month ago---) WORD COUNT » 13,061 (hi yes, izzy is entering her long wc era!!)​ ESTIMATED READING TIME » i'm scared to put this down 😭 forgive me!! WARNINGS (lmk if i missed anything!) » suggestive!!, reader is a lightweight (not sure if this is a warning), reader uses alcohol to distract herself (sunwoo will come to the rescue tho!; of legal age), reader has a bad schema for men, incredibly fast proofread once

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 part of 'especially to you...'

hands down the hardest story i've EVER written (including my 40+ wips) and i stopped multiple times because it explores a huge part of my life that makes me super vulnerable. the internet may judge me after this but i'm going to stay strong for myself; they don't know what i've been through.

i'm glad that i have met idols who have at least helped my schema for men. mark lee, na jaemin, cho seungyoun (woodz), lee jaehyun (hyunjae) and kim sunwoo (sorry i was so harsh on you 😭 i'm very thankful for your existence no wonder what anyone else believes and thinks; and people can believe what they want to believe because i'm tired of trying to make them believe something else).

izzy...

if there is one internet trend (?) that you should take seriously, it's that: not all men are the same.

and you know that. you've seen it with your guy friends and the teachers that you were close to in high school. they're not like the ones who hurt you. i know you're scared and with what you've been through, i would like to at least believe that it's valid. i really hope that you keep going and keep fighting.

thank you for reading @heemingyu @mmoonbaee !! love our chaotic trio!! 🥰

You’ve rejected Kim Sunwoo before.

Twice, apparently.

It left the rest of your friend group flabbergasted when they heard that you did something so incredible. When asked why you rejected the friend that has stuck with you since the beginning of your hellish high school days, the only response you gave them was a fake smile with your eyebrows knitted together and your eyes roaming around the room, avoiding the intense (and totally unnecessary) curiosity in their gaze.

The truth is that you really do see why people fall in love with Kim Sunwoo.

You agree with the fact that he’s a romantic person and would absolutely take care of his partner well. You can vouch for this with the number of times he almost faceplanted on the very non-slippery cement when he saw you on the other side of the road, excited to finally see his dearest best friend. You can confidently vouch for him when he stubbornly gives his favourite hoodie for you to use, not hesitating to make sure you’re warm even though he knows he’s going to be bedridden. You can brag about your best friend’s selfless personality, telling them how Sunwoo went out of his way to comfort you along the beach at night when you said you were feeling empty.

Out of everyone in the world, you’re the one who knows best that Sunwoo has always been a caring person. Like that time when you both finally became adults and he waited for his first sip of alcohol to be with you. Embarrassingly, you’re much more lightweight than you both thought but even though Sunwoo could barely balance his steps, that didn’t stop him from giving you a piggyback ride walk to your house where he also really embarrassingly this time, actually faceplanted in front of your mother as he misses the step down the stairs when leaving.

So yes, you understand why people have massive heart eyes whenever he’s around.

But to you, he’s just your best friend. One that you hope would be there for you every step of the way even after you go on to the next chapters of your life.

The first confession was a quick one, a simple “Have you ever thought of dating me?” from Sunwoo and with a playful disgusted look, you simply respond with “Ew, no way.”

But the second one is more serious for Sunwoo. His heart was beating so fast that it was strong enough to make his whole body fall onto the ground; maybe it would’ve been better for the Earth to swallow him up so that he’d never have to face you ever again. He didn’t know what took over him and where the sudden urge came from but he meant every single word that he said—and the hues of red and pink on both his cheeks show his true feelings for you (which you missed).

But maybe Sunwoo overestimated how confident he could be around you because as soon as he sputtered “I like you. Should we start dating?” He saw the way your fingers stopped their aggressive tapping on the black squares of your keyboard, freezing and halting for a bit more before your shocked eyes met his nervous ones. Scared to ruin this perfect friendship that he already has with you, he backs out of his words, shaking his head and letting out his forceful rehearsed laugh that got you both kicked out of the library. Though the day could have been the start of something new, he still relished the way he managed to hear at least the rapid complaints fly out of your lips. You’ve been stressed out over the English essay that you’ve been so distant, so at least even though you beat him in a game or rock-paper-scissors for food, the empty wallet that he’s left with after, filled the loneliness in his heart.

Gosh even when you’re mad, he finds you adorable.

But it’s been three years since the second confession and now three years after, Kim Sunwoo is still next to you. Call him a loser—a hopeless romantic—but he would argue the term, telling the people around him that he has his reasons.

“What are we doing for Valentine’s Day?”

The question is not a weird one between you both. Maybe you should’ve said the just-friends boy and girl version of ‘Galentine’s Day’ or whatever the kids these days call it because Sunwoo’s heartbeat would always spike at the mention of the couple’s holiday. He’s always spent the day with you and how could you refuse when he assures you that you can leave your wallet at home?

In truth, he just didn’t want other people to take you out. He tried to fathom the image of you receiving that giant teddy bear, a heart-patterned bow around the neck and maybe the word ‘love’ embroidered on its fluffy white tummy. The only smile in his head is yours and the date that is not him, and he couldn’t help but notice the constricting muscle around his heart and the churning of his stomach.

Kim Sunwoo will always root for you. If your happiness is with someone else, then he wouldn’t dare to take that away from you. He just wants to let you know his true feelings someday—if he could.

Sunwoo swivels his chair around, a quiet hum gave out as an answer for now. He hasn’t thought much about this year, his part-time job and full-time high school student occupying his thoughts a bit too much more than he would like. Usually, he would have a list of things to do but as responsibilities piled up, the wants decreased and with how you’re practically stuck with each other either way, he manages to check off most of the things in his places to go list.

You’re unaware of the longing eyes that fixed upon you as you kept your eyes directed to the ceiling, phone raised above your eyes. You made yourself comfortable on Sunwoo’s bed, his blanket going past your chest and covering your lower body from the blasting air conditioner. Your arms are getting a bit sore but you just want to know if the main characters in the drama would kiss soo—

“Alright, that’s enough internet for you today.” The device is snatched out of your hands, your arms cheering in relief as they plop down on the bouncy material. In refute to his actions, your back straightens but everything happened in a quick three-second interval that you didn’t realise that Sunwoo was already bending down and your forehead collided with his. “Oh my Go—” Sunwoo exclaims, his butt hitting the floor in surprise.

“Serves you right!” You exclaim, begrudgingly rubbing the area with your palm. “Why were you so close?!”

“I was telling you stuff but you weren’t paying attention!”

“You could’ve shouted it!”

“I called your name thrice?!”

“Oh my God! Okay, what was it that you wanted to say?”

All words get stuck in his throat. Even though his head and bottom hurt with the two critical hits at the most unexpected time, he couldn’t help but shy his face away with the way you blew the loose strand that blocks your vision, paired with the slight jut of your little lip as you turn your attention to him.

Sunwoo stutters, gulping when he sees your raised eyebrows from the corner of his eye. “U-Up to you.” Another gulp and wandering eyes, “Is there nothing you want to do?”

“Oh but,” you recall the favour that your mum asked from yesterday. “My mum asked if I could babysit my brother because she has plans already.” Heaving an apologetic sigh, feeling bad for letting Sunwoo down.

“Hey no,” an idea comes to mind as he leisurely crosses his legs. “I love your brother! How about we just spend the day together with him?”

Your eyes narrow suspiciously to the comment he once made about kids, “I thought you said you hate kids.”

“No, I said I hate those who are cuter than me.”

A scandalous gasp from you, “Are you calling my brother ugly?! I’m telling him and my mu—”

“No!” Realising his mistake, he quickly untangles his legs and tackles you back down on the bed instantly, his bigger build toppling over yours easily. “That’s not what I meant! He's an exception!” It's unclear whether his sobs are real or not at this point. “Your mum loves me! Don’t do this to me!”

“Get off me, you stinky raccoon!”

The gym resonates with the squeaks of sixty-something shoes on its polished surface. The sound easily makes you squirm, hating that it screeches against your eardrums so violently. A chuckle is heard at the sight of the displeasure written on your face.

“Very annoying.” The honey-like voices your thoughts. “Would you like to borrow my headphones for a while?”

Instantly, you’re met with his popular gummy smile, the one that swoons everyone in your school. If people aren’t swooning over your best friend, they most probably are falling for the man who made himself comfortable next to the gym steps where you sat. His features are nothing like Sunwoo’s, softer and more approachable with the way his eyes sparkle even more with the help of the shine from above. Because this isn’t sport class, he wears his everyday uniform, his collar is properly presented and not a single speck of ramen soup makes its mark on the annoyingly white cotton. Even with the physical exercise he did, he still looks dashing and neat, wondering how his messy hair still looks attractive—but then again, men with messy hair have always captivated your heart. Jaemin’s kind personality is the final cherry on top and with how you usually have conversations like these when he’s benched or having a break, you’re certainly one of the girls who is attracted to him in no time. Your brown eyes travel further down his dazzling smile, to the black headset on his open palm.

A wave from Na Jaemin to your dazed face pulls you back to reality and you nod wordlessly to the question before. Like the gentleman he is, Jaemin doesn’t even ask you to turn to him but instead adjusts to your line of vision, slightly making the gap between the earpads bigger before resting the cushion perfectly for you. The way he did so was gentle, even tucking your hair strands behind your ear.

“Better?” Another wordless nod. Jaemin lets out an airy chuckle at your pursed lips, moving back beside you. “Here for Sunwoo?”

“And to kill time, I suppose.”

Your eyes wander back to the boy who’s working hard on the soccer field. It’s a usual routine for you to wait for his weekly soccer training so that you both can walk home together. Usually at this time, your nose would be buried in your textbooks, catching up on the work you missed due to the lack of sleep from the previous night. Usually, as well, the practice would be outdoors, the same squeaky sound being non-existent, the same one that ripped you out of your focus since the start of the practice round.

The whistle blares and the coach shouts at the team for a five-minute break. Sunwoo stops his jogging, hands on his knees as he leans to catch his breath while the rest of the team sends encouraging slaps on his back to their dear captain. Sunwoo sends a playful one back to their buttcheeks, the rowdy group enjoying the little gap before they have to get back in the zone. But this is when Sunwoo’s eyes fall upon his teammate and his best friend not too far away. His eyes soften at the way you just blink at Jaemin’s smile, betting that you’re not paying attention to a single thing that he’s saying. Unconsciously, he doesn’t realise how his hands clenched at the growing redness on your cheeks but Sunwoo doesn’t look away even when he walks to get his water bottle.

“Oh.” Eric teasingly remarks. “That’s not a good look, Sunwoo.”

“Shut up.” He mumbles back to his closest teammate. Even though he forces his back on you, he can’t help but steal obvious lovesick glances back.

“Jaemin said he’s going to ask your dearest bestie out on a date for Valentine's.”

Sunwoo tries his best not to let the comment get to him. “Well, she’s busy already.”

“With you?” Eric questions his trailing voice. “The guy she rejected?”

“Shut up!” Sunwoo groans to the boy, swinging his arm around his neck for a headlock. “You’re actually so annoying, Sohn. The whole cohort knows because of you!”

The poor boy begs for mercy, sending hits to his friend’s stomach. And Sunwoo does let go, poking his tongue out at the boy after. Overdramatically, Eric sends one back, calling mischievous names to the boy who is looking over to you once more. He couldn’t force himself to look away from the vital information that Eric said. Without knowing, his feet stride over to you both, finally catching the words from Jaemin’s moving lips.

“Can I take you out on Valentine’s Day? Are you free?”

Sunwoo sees the gears turning in your head and he pleads that you would reject the offer, pleading that you didn’t forget your words from last night. He’s looking forward to the day, especially when he researched a bunch of things that your brother likes, combining with the things you like to make sure the day will be well spent. But the breath he takes stops at his throat when you just continue to stare at Jaemin with wide eyes. Sunwoo might’ve imagined it, but he swears he could see the corner of your lips rising, your head probably thinking of a fun, romantic date with Jaemin.

It’s obvious to him even on the other side of the gym, that Cupid has shot his arrow.

“Yeah.”

The answer didn’t come from you, the response was too deep to be your timbre. The headphones did their job well, masking Sunwoo’s steps and leaving you confused by the clear and loud answer he gave. Excited at the confirmation of your empty schedule, Sunwoo’s heart churns at the way Jaemin excitedly holds your hands, turning your confused head tilt to him into another blushing one. Unfortunately, you were unable to say a word to any of the two boys, the coach beckoning everyone in the team over for the final part of their practice.

Faintly, you hear Jaemin saying that he’ll contact you and that you can return his headphones tomorrow in class. You just watch the way Jaemin hops back to the rest of the team while Sunwoo follows closely behind, his shoulders slightly slumping as he drags his feet to make that noise you hate.

The walk home isn’t as bad as you thought it would be. Sunwoo acts like the gym didn’t happen and you raise your eyebrows at his suspicious actions of him walking slightly in front of you even though he still talks about the parts of the day when you weren’t with him. With the slight gap, you observe the way his front bangs slump over his vision, covering his sullen eyes. The hands inside his pockets continue to tense and he tries his best to ignore the obvious crease between your eyebrows. He doesn’t even question the short answers you came up with in his storytelling. Even now as you arrive at your front door, Sunwoo doesn’t bring the topic up, choosing to send his usual smile and ‘see you tomorrow’.

But you refuse to let his actions go. “What was that all about back there?”

It puts Sunwoo’s feet rooted to the ground and he feigns an innocent look. “You know,” he starts now with a smirk on his face, “Na Jaemin could totally figure out that you have the biggest crush on him with the way you looked at him with those googly eyes of yours.”

“I do not have googly eyes when I look at Na Jaemin!”

“Sure, you don’t.” Rolling his eyes, “You were close to drolling over him back there.”

You could tell that he was just avoiding the subject and prolonging touching it until you just let it go. “Sunwoo.” The tone of your voice tells him that you're seriously looking for answers, “Why’d you say that back there? I thought we were babysitting my brother together?”

“It’s fine.” He swats his hand in the air. “You go have fun and I’ll look over the child myself.”

“But I—”

“Can you just stop complaining and go in? I’m tired from practice.” Sunwoo cuts you off, turning the doorknob and pushing you in with small strength. “See you tomorrow!”

He does close the door on your face, ignoring the inhale you take and walking away before you start rebutting his words. But with that, you also missed telling Sunwoo of your mum who stands leisurely behind him and when your mum greets him, Sunwoo gets the scare of his life, yelping and crouching to the floor, a hand over his chest.

“Serves him right for cutting me off twice.”

At this time, you didn’t realise the ache in your heart, too busy chuckling at his misery as your mum helped the poor boy before he disappeared out of your sight with multiple polite bows.

Now, Sunwoo is left to wallow in his stupidity. The devil in his head even shakes his head disapprovingly and the angel desperately tries to cheer him up, telling him that everything will be fine but it has no effect on the distraught boy. He lets out all the swear words that he knows, mumbling them to himself, criticising his past actions. A headache starts to form and he is unable to walk a straight line on the well-leveled road.

“You’re an idiot, Kim Sunwoo.”

He replays the earlier scene. The way your eyes fall on Jaemin fondly, the way all words seem to be lost when he speaks to you and the way you freeze when Jaemin holds your hand in his. His feet stop dragging on the stone when he spots an ice cream truck and the sweet fragrance of your favourite flavour. Even with small things like this, he thinks of you.

He observes the two friends who approach the vehicle, recognising the uniform as the same as the ones he has on. Judging by the satisfaction on the girl’s face and the complaints of the boy, Sunwoo assumes that the shorter one probably won a bet or something. His mind wanders to you once more, the dynamic of his two underclassmen similar to the one he shares with you.

More calm and accepting that he has probably lost you to Na Jaemin, if asked why he still chooses to stick with you after two rejections, Kim Sunwoo can.

The fastest and simple answer is that you don’t have a good schema for love. It was shattered the moment that you found out that your dad cheated on your mum four years ago. Your family fell apart shortly after your dad packed everything and left, leaving your mum alone as the sole parent when you were still trying to fully understand the world around you.

The rest of the world doesn't see how the separation affected you. However, Sunwoo was there during the times when you cried your eyes out, taking the frustrated punches on his chest, when you declared that you would never fall in love, scared of falling into the same fate as your mother especially when your dad has always voiced out that he loves his family and would always stay with them.

The world doesn't see how you hide behind his reassuring back whenever a male is too close for your liking. They don't see how you practically hold onto his arm with anxiety after a person confesses to you even though you're thankful that they look at you fondly. They don't see the fear in your eyes like Sunwoo has seen every single part of it.

When you would tease each other, like the time when he tackles you onto the bed, that's an exception. Sunwoo has always paid attention to your actions, both conscious and unconscious. He knows all about when you and when to keep his distance.

Thirty centimetres, sixty sometimes, and he would always wait for you to close the gap, stealing glances behind to make sure you were still following. Ninety-nine point nine per cent of the time, you would pick up your pace and Sunwoo would purposely slow down and the gap between the side of his arm and body would get bigger with each step you grow closer to him. When you clutch onto his arm again, he sends you that understanding gaze, mouthing a little 'hi' or 'hello' before facing forward again with newfound happiness.

The other point one is you asking if he could come back to stand beside you. But again, he would never ever touch you first and even when you arrive at your doorstep with no progress, Sunwoo would still look at you, reminding you of how proud he is and winks playfully to lift the corners of your lips before sending his 'see you tomorrow' still with happiness as his main aura.

It breaks Sunwoo’s heart whenever he sees you like that. That's the reason why he took his second confession back.

So when Kim Sunwoo, selfless and rooting for your genuine happiness, sees the different gaze that you send Na Jaemin, he can’t help but push his feelings aside. Plus, Na Jaemin is a good guy so he feels more reassured setting you up with the ace striker in the soccer team.

Cupid frowns down at the boy, his wings flapping sadly at the fake smile he puts on as he continues his walk home. It’s strange how he found himself sad for the dejected boy.

“Truly an idiot you are, Kim Sunwoo.”

Back home, you rewarded yourself with a warm shower. Though your physical body was able to let loose under the light sprinkles, your eyes couldn't help but mix in the metallic water with your salty ones. The water pressure manages to swallow most of your cries but the mirror doesn't lie when you see your red eyes after.

The gulp you took is painfully dry, tired from the tears from earlier. Your reach for the bathrobe is slow, letting the air cool touch your slightly red skin after the temperature. “At least he made it clear that he doesn't like me in that way.”

The knocks against the nearby room beckons a ‘Come in!’ from you and you quickly run the sides of your fingers on your eyebags as soon as you register the young boy from the mirror.

“Sis!” Dashing towards you, headbutting your back, “I heard Ddeonu hyung will be here tomorrow night!”

It's endearing to see how the news makes the little one jump, both his hands on your arm for support. A hand ruffles his already messy nest, “Be good tomorrow, okay?”

And the response morphs the smile upside down, “You’re not gonna be with us?”

Overloading with cuteness, you couldn't help but swivel around on your vanity chair towards your sibling, your hands pressing his cheeks, “With or without me, you're going to be with Sunwoo all day anyways!” Remembering all the times when he preferred to be in Sunwoo’s arms over yours, “Just don't make the poor raccoon run around too much, okay? He's getting old.”

“Does that mean he will fly to the cloud soon?”

“No, no.” Making a mental note to tell Sunwoo and imagining the way his jaw would drop at the wild question, “He's just old and tired now.”

Though confused at the repeated answer, the child seems to let it go, shrugging in satisfaction anyway at the plans for tomorrow. The smile upturned once more and you lift the boy much to his happiness, kicking his legs when you adjust his posture on your vanity table.

“Makeup!” He exclaimed about the objects around him, open palms to mimic a twinkling motion in the air.

“Makeup!” You echo, grabbing the cushion foundation. “Do you want to make me into a Princess?”

Obviously, he would not reject the offer, snatching the round object into his palm and patting the powder onto your neck.

“I'm going to make you the prettiest sister ever and raccoon hyung won't be able to take his eyes off you!”

Cupid shakes his head once more, his belly lying on the puffy cloud. He rests his chin on his palm, wondering how the similar-sized boy is more likable to him than the two blind adults—but it's obvious because he's not the stupid one.

“Well,” clicking his tongue on the roof of his mouth, “this one is an idiot too.”

Leading up to Valentine's Day, you thought at the very least you could spend the missed day with Sunwoo but he's more than adamant about pushing you to Jaemin. Whenever he saw a window of opportunity, he would call the boy over, a big waving motion from his hand in the air.

Whenever Jaemin spots you, every part of his face lights up and yours is supposed to reciprocate the stars in his eyes. But how could you even see it when all you see is the whole universe in Sunwoo’s ones instead?

The realisation that it has always been Sunwoo scares you and it terrifies you even more that the same boy who has always given his heart to you is making the gap between you both larger, further away, more and more within arms reach for your comfort. At first, it was confusion but then every part of your aching heart just longed for his presence beside yours once more.

Jaemin reminds you of the date one last time, the final text before you part ways at the school entrance is bolded, italicised and underlined. And Sunwoo? He intruded the house way earlier than everyone expected but judging from the open arms from your mother and the way you could hear your brother’s shrieking from the other side of the house, it's obvious that you’re the only one who’s dreading the early visitor.

Speaking of the visitor, your brother made himself comfortable by sitting on his neck, hands gripping his hair to make two little pigtails. Seeing Sunwoo fit right into your family from the very start has always been heartwarming and you would've told your brother to pull on two tails if you weren't busy avoiding his eyes from the mirror.

“Look!” Sunwoo gasps to your brother, finger pointing to you, “Your sister is so pretty, isn't she?”

And it became ten times harder to keep your tears from falling.

“Thanks.” You managed to seeth out from gritted teeth.

“Come on! You're going to be late.” Reminding you of the long hand of the clock reaching the top of the circle when Jaemin promised to pick you up. “Which bag are you using?”

It's heartbreaking to see him just walk past you after the compliment, whistling leisurely as he looks through the pile of bags on the side hook of your wardrobe. You found yourself looking down at your lap, trying to shake off the nervousness and anxiety in your mind. You try your best to focus on the tension of your gripping fists, letting go and repeating to ground yourself back. The tears are starting to blur your vision but you push the sleeves of your outerwear over your knuckles and smudge them away.

The way that Sunwoo still entertains your brother as he takes the body of the bag in your direction, humming intently to see if the colour of your outfit will clash with the accessory, brings your emotions to their peak and you just want to run away from this situation. He settles on one, a victorious exclamation falling from his lips and begins stuffing your necessities himself.

“Phone,” checking off the mental list, “keys and wallet.” Your brother pointing at the lone lipstick left at the centre of the painted surface, “Ah! This too!” Putting the closed cylinder inside the small purse before the metal zips and is carefully balanced on your shoulder.

Your thankful mutter didn't go unheard by Sunwoo and so did the tinge of makeup on the sleeve that you used when he looked away for a brief moment.

“Hey!” Sunwoo cranes his head to speak to the younger, curious eyes. “Why don't you go on ahead first and pick what ramen you want?”

The kicking of his heels against his chest made him wince a bit, quickly putting your younger brother where he dashes off with his favourite food.

Throughout the whole exchange, it once again confirms the fact that Sunwoo is truly loving to the people around him. The way that he tries not to disappoint your brother, even if there are probably bruises forming from his kicking, the way that he peels his head out to make sure your brother is taking careful steps to the kitchen and finally, the beaming but adoration in his eyes when he finally lands on the casual outfit you're wearing.

“Wow.” A breathless chuckle, head empty with the sight of you.

His cheeks flushed and he couldn't help but stare at your stunning choice of outfit—if hoodies and no makeup could make his heart jump out of his chest, then he should go to the hospital because of your off-the-shoulder white top paired with the beige pleated skirt and cardigan.

“Okay?” You ask timidly, “L-Like, do I look okay?”

“You're stunning.” He says truthfully that your body goes numb, looking away from the sparkles in his eyes.

Now, that's new. “Hey…” Taking steps towards you, “What's wrong?”

But your heart is fighting so hard that you feel like you're about to give up. If Sunwoo is going to reject you, then you just want him to do it so that you can forget about all this and just go back to pretending that you will never have heart-shaped eyes for Kim Sunwoo ever again.

“Y-You’re okay with this?” The leather of your bag crinkles at your gripping question.

“Yeah,” Sunwoo answers. “Don't worry. Jaemin is a great guy.”

Your eyes widen at the comment, “No, I-I know that bu—”

But Sunwoo suddenly zooms into your face, even bending his back to make sure that you wouldn't miss the pout on his handsome face. His eyes landed on your lip-touched makeup, “Wait, can I have your lipstick? Let me retouch it for you.”

You couldn't even refute, feeling the cooling pink painting your lips, contrasting the palm on your cheek that steadies the delicate work on your lips. Why did he bother asking if he was just going to retrieve it himself? You're thankful Sunwoo can't multitask, missing the glimmer in your orbs as you try your best to keep your lips from shaking like your legs are slowly becoming. It’s clear that he didn’t know how to properly manoeuver the brush on your lips but you find yourself forgiving him even if your lips become a mess after this.

The defeated groans from his lips only made your heart swell and you take your time to look at him as if you’ve never done so before; from his eyelashes that flutter prettily, to his tongue that pokes out in concentration, it’s crazy how handsome someone can be when he's not doing anything special. The pads of his finger spread the colour, smacking his lips as a sign for you to copy which you eventually do.

“Done!” And just when your heart thought it could finally get a break, Sunwoo decides to play with it a bit more, fishing out a snap hair clip. His hands smooth any bumps that aren’t visible to the naked eye. A hand holds the side of your head gently, the other sliding the gift across your scalp carefully. “Alright, now let’s go!”

Your tears are so incredibly close to flowing but the lights of your room die like every hope of telling Sunwoo that you’re not as excited as he is for the night to come. But if this is Sunwoo’s way of completely rejecting any romantic feelings for you, then what can you do except to trudge down your hallway where even your brother wishes that you would have a fun time? The smile on your lips doesn’t reach your eyes when both boys remind you not to come home late in addition to Sunwoo’s “Text or call me if you need anything!”

You spare a final glance at the two, sombre smile plastered on your face. The last face you see is Sunwoo’s whose eyes still held on a smile even though yours has been wiped away. Maybe it was supposed to encourage you or maybe it’s nothing and you’re just reading too deep into it but if there’s one thing you know is that the night with Jaemin, even though he is a well-mannered man, a gentleman inside and out, your head couldn’t help but wish that it was Sunwoo who took you to the arcade, making sure your arms are filled with snacks and drinks.

You wished that after that, no one was there to pull your chair out, instead laughing at the way you almost tripped on air while trying to sit down. You wished that you could’ve just stared at the menu in contemplation and for Sunwoo to just choose for you so that he could silence the growling in his stomach.

Cursing the famous day as well, seeing the love around you, the couples enamoured by their partners all around you, it only made the guilt inside grow further.

By the time the night is spent, Jaemin knows that his feelings aren't reciprocated. First, it's the way you ask him to repeat his words multiple times. Second, it's the way that your eyes are blank, just your orbs staring into space. Third, it's the way that you try to discreetly check your smartwatch for notifications from your best friend at your home.

“I'm sorry.” Jaemin chuckles in response after he softly calls you out.

The boy shakes his head, hands inside his pants pockets. “I knew that you didn't like me. I guess I just wanted a chance to maybe change that once.” But then he sighs an understanding sigh, closing his eyes before fluttering them back at you, “but you're too far gone into your feelings to realise what I've been doing.”

Your eyes welled up with tears, apologetic at his words and Jaemin couldn't do much but give words of comfort after you explicitly stumbled away from his reaching hand, asking for physical space. You mutter a million apologies for today but Jaemin is respectful, convincing you that the friendship between you both won't change and that eases your mind.

“Should I text Sunwoo?” He carefully asks. “To pick you up.”

A shake of your head is what had Jaemin’s eyebrow furrowing. “It’s okay. I’ll text him right now.”

And though your makeup is a mess, transferring onto the sleeves of your cardigan more, Jaemin still thinks you're stunning, the clenching of his heart intensifying at the glitter you still managed to hold. Jaemin leaves you alone in a convenience store near your favourite beach and somehow, you manage to convince him to go on ahead first, leaving your thoughts alone in the night of love.

Your feet routinely take you along the beachside, taking shelter at the convenience store for a while, grabbing drinks and food to aid your broken heart. When you crouch for the bottle at the bottom shelf, your mind just has to remind you that someone wouldn't even let you do this, always protecting you from any wardrobe malfunction.

Your knees finally give out and the back of your thighs meet with the back of your lower leg. Your hands only clutche on the neck of the green bottle while you hide your distressed face behind the curtains that your hair made.

Thinking of it all infuriates you.

Why can't you just be more trusting towards others? Believe that not all of them are out to ridicule or make fun of you.

“Sunwoo…” You couldn't help but mumble as your tears finally painted your beige skirt darker.

Thankfully you were able to keep your emotions somewhat at bay, straightening your posture with the cooling drink in one hold. The cashier could only offer you an encouraging speech and an empathetic smile as soon as she saw the trail on your cheeks. The gesture is needed but the anxiety still weighs on your chest deeply. She must've thought that you've gone through a huge breakup on this unfortunate pinky day but you think the internal agony is worse.

For the last few hours or so, Sunwoo has been updating you with your baby brother through pictures. If only the pictures were just about the younger one and not a duo picture that once again shows that Sunwoo is a keeper when it comes to babysitting. The device is stashed in the bag that he chose from you earlier but if you could, you could honestly feed it to the sharks on the beach in front of you.

The wind provided you company, hitting your red apple-coloured cheeks to balance your rising temperature. You knew you shouldn't drink alone especially when the moon was high in the sky but you couldn't help but bask in the tide that hit the sand, pulling everything back into the body of water.

The tips of your toes are drenched and you would usually be running further away as soon as water hit your ankles but you didn't want to. It’s times like these that you’re thankful for the invention of safety shorts as you're able to sit in any posture you like without worrying. Your knees constantly bend and straighten, dragging the sand along with it and at this point, you've created a shallow hole.

“I mean,” you slur, “I’m so comfortable with Sunwoo so why can't I be the same with the others?” your eyes could only shut in self-contempt from today’s date, “And Jaemin was so respectful to me too…”

It’s frustrating that you can't trust others when they've done nothing wrong. The only thing that responded to the strike down your cheek was the last drop of liquid courage; now even objects have started mocking you.

“I have to stop relying on him,” a hiccup and a humourless laugh. “When he gets a girlfriend…” the thought cracks your heart into pieces and your knee grows closer to your chest, “Gosh, what am I doing?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

The deep voice and a couple of deep breaths made you turn back so quickly that you fell over sideways. The boy momentarily scolds you even more, grumbling, pointing at your ruined shoes tossed aside in the sand and exhaling whilst turning his head away to catch a break from the soaked ends of your outerwear. When the worry envelops him again, Sunwoo takes a better look at your state.

His tongue clicks against the roof of his mouth loudly and the crease between his eyebrows only deepens each time his eye focuses to another part of your face.

“Did you drink?! Alone?! I told you not to drink without me!”

His initial volume made you jump a bit, especially with how he directly circles behind you to pick up the discarded, lonely bottle. Sunwoo's nagging continues, crouching beside you to your eye level with the bottle making tunes from the wind. The pout answers him, along with the way your fingers fiddle on the hem of your sleeves. You had no intention of voicing out the answer now that he knows so you just say something else.

“You actually came…”

The ‘something else’ did make his ramble stop and his intense features started to soften and melt away when your words hit him.

“Of course, I came.” Reassurance above the whispering wind, “You texted me.”

Your lips couldn't even gape open with a response because Sunwoo takes a couple of steps back, away from you. Though his body is still facing yours with his shoes pointing at you and arms around his knees, the safe distance is what makes your head hurt at the many things you could say to him.

“Did you put him to sleep?” You opted for this conversation instead.

Sunwoo’s nods just got in your peripheral vision, but your nod is the centre of his.

You let the wind break you even more, not even raising your hand to move the strands that became trapped between your lower and upper eyelids, tickling your eyes when it finally is freed. Without a doubt, you know that Sunwoo is just watching you patiently, waiting for you to tell him to drop you home or to at least talk about the night whether it be his or yours. Your nervous system couldn't help but relax in his presence.

Inside, Sunwoo wants something from you too. An indication to move further and to close the thirty-centimetre gap he has created. Just anything so that he could finally leave the coldness that nips at his trembling skin. His bangs brushes over his sight but he still has a clear view of you. The side of his head only rests on his arm as he just stares at you, humming a tune that hopefully reaches you.

“Woo.”

“Hm?”

“Do you like someone?”

A series of stuttering and unsure hums came from him. Your knees push against your chest hard, burying your head between them. Soon enough, you're convinced that the pressure is what kept your heart together after the affirmative answer.

“I…” Here goes nothing, “was supposed to be with her today and maybe ask her out officially but she had other plans and so did I.”

“Oh.” You didn't know if he heard it. You kind of wished he didn't because of how sore your throat suddenly feels. “I’m sorry, I should've been the one to take care of my brother inste—”

“She was busy too,” Sunwoo repeated, words clearer and punctuated. “It doesn't matt—”

“Will I be able to trust anyone again?”

“W-Wha—”

“Will someone ever love me the same way that you love her?”

The thoughts haunt you every night when you're asleep and now that you finally share it with someone, you lose yourself in the alcohol and blurt out the impulsive thoughts.

“W-Whoa.” Sunwoo nervously chuckles. “Did the date really go that ba—”

“Do I know her?”

“Ye—”

“Tell me. Let me make sure she's a good person.”

The only response you get is a low groan and sigh; both from Sunwoo and the guardian Cupid above you both. The moonlight twinkles the curve of the forgotten bottle but it reminds Sunwoo that you're not in your right state of mind and that you're just pressing to get the thoughts out of your head rather than truly looking for answers.

For the first time, Sunwoo took action, dusting his clothes from the damp sand. You merely watch with half-hooded eyes as he strides against the swallowing sand, your head slowly turning from the side to the front where he settles himself. Sunwoo gives you a soft tug of the corner of his lips and his dancing bangs only make him all the more attractive. He tests the waters, holding his hand out to reach yours, permission to touch you through his gaze. When you nod, he doesn't hesitate to share his body warmth starting from his bigger palms, relieved at how you seem to let out a breath that you have been holding.

“Deep breaths, bubs.”

The nickname makes you swoon and makes his instructions unclear. Though the pounding on the side of your head makes it hard for you to morph Sunwoo’s clone together, the name managed to at least get your attention. With this, he didn’t mind the way his clothes drank the seawater when he kneeled, even dragging his fabric across the surface. Sunwoo responds with a jut of his lower lip when you just shoot him a glare but your act disappears when he opens his arms wide. Without any further hesitation, your forehead rests on his chest. One of his hands cups the curve of your waist and the other threads through your silky hair. The act makes your body shudder and you find your arms start to hold his middle even tighter when he collects your hair and tosses it over to a side, his palm now covering your whole nape.

“You’re alright.” Sunwoo muses. His diverts to yours and maybe you’re just imagining the adoration dripping from his eyes but you couldn’t help to speak a bit of your mind.

“You're doing it again…”

“Doing what?”

You didn't give him a verbal answer, the shake of your head and the whines you gave were enough for him to just embrace you into his presence. Sunwoo hides you from the world when he sees the tears brimming across the eyes that he’s fallen for. Daring, he presses a kiss on the top of your head, smiling fondly at your more balanced breathing.

“Let’s go home?” The shake of your head made Sunwoo rake for more ideas. “Wanna have a sleepover at my house then?”

“No.” Muffled answer from his chest. “You’re just going to make me sleep on the floor.”

“Hey! You lost the bet last time! Don’t blame your skill issue with rock-paper-scissors on me!”

“Fine then! I’ll just stay here for the rest of the night!”

Oh, he's so in love with you. Sunwoo only coos, his heart fluttering and content when you respond to the playful war that he wages.

“I’ll let you take the bed.” A raised eyebrow is what you offer him with when you crane your head and Sunwoo could tell the suspicion that you had against his words. “I’m serious!”

“Really?”

A roll of his eyes and a scoff, “As if I’ll let you take the floor knowing that you’ll be hungover tomorrow.”

“Well,” a shaky inhale, “you could.”

“Yeah?” This time it’s his turn to have an eyebrow raised. “Why would I do that?”

“Because when you go off and date someone, you won’t be able to keep doing whatever this is.”

“Yeah?” He repeats himself, desperate for a little bit more of your feelings. At least let me down properly, he thinks to himself. “And what happens if I don’t want to put my focus on someone else? What happens if I just want to keep focusing on you? What happens if I just want you in my life and no one else?”

Now, Sunwoo’s hands grip a hold on your upper forearm and pull you away from his body. The moonlight finally reaches your face and Sunwoo observes you thinking, his eyes boring into yours, silently pleading for some sort of indication that would end the pink and red swirls in his eyes whenever he catches even a glimpse of your figure.

“Then I would tell you that I like you and that I have for the longest time.”

Are drunken thoughts still sober thoughts in this situation?

Sunwoo’s head dips dangerously close and it takes everything in him to not press his lips onto yours. If you even allowed any words that imply that he may have taken your heart, he told himself he would look away even if it meant burying himself into the ground and never seeing civilisation ever again. The struggle is written all over his face: the tight wrinkles around his eyes that accommodate the crashing of his eyebrows, the protective hold he has on you and the way he presses his forehead onto yours with his hair tickling you, quiet exhales leaving his lips.

“Please don’t do this to me,” he pleads, “You’re drunk and I’m trying to not cross the line.”

“Cross it…” Mellow and enchanting. “I give you my consent.”

“Don’t.” He grits and tries to still his heart. “I can't…”

“Kiss me, Woo.”

Sunwoo swore that his heart almost leapt out of his chest when his eyes shot open, immediately growing bigger with how you nudged the tip of your nose to his. His temperature receptors feel the shift of the warmer air growing closer to his lips and he can’t help but focus on the way your eyelids flutter close.

The attraction is fatal and so is the small distance left. Unconsciously, even though it’s wrong, he couldn’t help but adjust his position, wanting to claim you as his even if it’s just for a while. Just when your lips are mere millimetres away from touching, Sunwoo denies the touch of heaven, the angel inside gets his hands to fly and block the intimate act with his fingers. A hand cups your cheek, tracing along your jawline and a thumb slots in between your plump lips from reaching his. His breath hitches when you peek at the smooth surface, void of the curves that you were expecting. He watches the stars fade from your eyes, replacing them with a wall that he couldn’t decipher.

Through his eyelashes that flutter quietly and the painful gulp, he prompts you once again, “Let’s go home.” More resolute and grounded than before. “We can talk about this tomorrow.”

The thumb did leave the presence on your cupid’s bow but lingers at your lip’s bottom edge. Sunwoo watches as your lips bounce back after he lightly pulls it down and he sees the dullness from your eyes with every single second that passes. He shoves his sleeves past his fingertips, wrapping the grey around his pointer and starts to collect your confusion on his sleeves.

“I-I’m sorry.”

He could tell it was genuine and he assumed that you might’ve sobered up a little bit within the last couple of seconds. Sunwoo met your forehead once again with his thumb that still held you like you were as fragile as the glass bottle that had been discarded.

“Please don’t leave me.”

“I’m not going to leave you. Don’t even bother to think of those things ever again.” He reassures your muddled-up mind. “I’m going to pick you up, okay?”

Between your hazy vision and the churning of your stomach, the only indication you could give is a nod and outstretched arms towards his now-standing figure. Sunwoo adoringly chuckles, bending down and supporting your weight by scooping you up by your waist. He kept your body close to his even when he turned around and kneeled, patting his back for you to slump over.

Out of energy, your arms lazily dangled during the walk, elbows resting on his shoulders during the whole walk. Truth be told, his back aches because you couldn’t get a proper grip on him but he knows as soon as he straightens his back to a more comfortable position, you might actually hit your head and wake up in the hospital. The walk back to his car is quiet, chattering filling the background noise. If you’re awake, you can feel the shaking of his thighs as he carefully rests you on the cushioned seat, an arm coming over his head onto the back of yours as a safety measure from the upper door frame. Without a single sound from you, he successfully buckles you securely in the front seat. Your coat is gently undressed from you to be used to cover your legs, the short skirt only makes you shiver in the night.

“Why do cars always sound so loud?”

Sunwoo complains when he twists the car key to start the engine. His eyes fall to you again, observing your sleeping figure who is unaware of the little jumps and loops his heart made. His pointer reaches over to the loose strands that tickle the front of your face. From the back of your ear, he holds his breath at your slightly gaped lips that pull him closer, drawing him nearer to share a kiss with you. Why did you have to look so stunning despite the reeking alcohol that only becomes stronger in the small space?

Though faint, his reflection from the front window stares at him and he can’t help but sink further into the seat, wanting to hide and run away from himself. “Will you ever look at me the same way?” he grumbles hopelessly into the palms that shield him from reality before driving towards his house.

The exhaustion from the eventful day finally washes over him as soon as he parks his car in one go. Usually, you would give an impressed look and Sunwoo would wiggle his eyebrows when you only scoff at his achievements. The connecting door to his house opens, throwing his things inside the hallway without much thought before jogging back to your side. His eyes narrow, concentrating on making as minimal noises as he can whilst opening the metal surface that separates you and him. A hand pushes on the door while the other does the contrasting action with the handle to avoid the loud click that vehicles make. Thankfully your head isn’t resting on the door, something that he made sure didn’t happen so that you could rest in his house without the bumps of the road lifting your head and slamming it back down due to ruthless gravity.

And as much as Cupid’s curly blonde hair is between all the sides of his fingers, he mastered the art of patience and ‘trusting the process’ as he took a series of deep inhales.

Throughout the whole time, Cupid is impressed at how blind you both prove to be. It’s obvious now as he pays attention to the way Sunwoo treats you and the way that you desperately clutch on his jacket that you both are more than best friends. He ponders if he should shoot another arrow even though the initial one he shot is showing progress.

In this line of work, where he’s used to shooting, and observing for a while before going to another potential couple, he seems to be stuck with the couple in front of him. Up until now, he has never thought to shoot the second arrow that is reserved for a couple that makes him look away distastefully. He’s never met one that makes him take them out of their trance as it’s obvious it became more bad than good for them but what he’s twirling in his hand is not that.

But he starts to think about his decisions whenever you're hurting because of the world and he starts to think of the shatter in Sunwoo’s heart whenever he's around you.

Is it worth it to have you both come together?

“But you know,” the arrow stops between his pointer and thumb, the crest hitting the perimeter of the stationary cloud. Cupid continues to peer over the two, finding himself squealing with the way Sunwoo continues to make teasing jokes to make sure you don’t fall asleep behind the bathroom door while brushing your teeth and changing into your favourite hoodie of his. “I don’t think shooting one towards these two will do much.”

He smiles knowingly, completely immersed in the way that Sunwoo hops over to cradle your head into his chest as soon as you open the door. Your mind is still under the scorching forty percent but you didn't miss the way Sunwoo’s fingers rub on your exposed thigh when he brings you to his bed bridal style.

And if he shoots another arrow?

Oh, Cupid knows that you’re both more than just teenagers in love. Especially in your case, terrified, and for Sunwoo who just wants to see you happy—another arrow means nothing if you both don’t learn and figure out this obstacle yourselves.

With Sunwoo’s help, you’re snugged underneath his blanket, pulling it up to your nose, just the way you like it. The laundry detergent brings you rest, and your brain immediately relaxes as it associates the scent with safety. Your body rests on its side and you watch Sunwoo as he takes a kneeling position on the side of his bed, taking his hand to yours while his other forearm rests on the bouncy futon. The act makes his heartbeat increase once more. “Sunwoo.” The boy only keeps his affectionate eyes on yours while he strokes your hair. “Thank you for picking me up.”

The brushes of his thumb on the back of your palm could lull you to sleep. “Can I sleep on the living room couch today then?” Mischievously suggesting, knowing how much you would complain about leaving you alone in the room for the whole night.

The question makes you pout awake again, “You’re going to leave me?” Maybe you weren’t up for the joke and Sunwoo smiles sadly, clearing his throat and shaking his head assuringly.

“I’m just joking with you.” An airy laugh seeped out from his lips. “I’ll sleep on the floor.” Pointing at the unoccupied space behind him. “Don’t worry.”

“Or you can sleep next to me…”

Cupid feels the tension in the air after your suggestion. He propels the bed of clouds, flying closer to have a better view of you two. He’s so invested in the way Sunwoo softly looks at you that the shake of his head after some thinking makes him scream once more, burying his face into the white puff of air.

“Why not?” You scooted against his bed, making space to prove your point that the bed was big enough for you both. “It’s not like we’ve never done it before…”

“I know.” Sunwoo stands from his kneeling position but you refuse to let go of his hand. Instead, your hands slide up from his wrist to entangle them between his fingers. “Bubs…”

“I’m scared.” That’s all it took for Sunwoo’s knees to hit the floor again, coming closer to you. “What if I do manage to fall in love but then I just get hurt?”

“Then he’ll deal with me.” It elicits a whimper from you and your vision suddenly blurs once more. The tears brim up more when Sunwoo’s hand cups to rest against the apple of your cheeks with his knuckles, brushing in a circular motion. “Love them, it’s okay.”

The pressure you’re exerting on his fingers makes him furrow his eyebrows. “You’re okay with that?”

“If he makes you happy then I’m okay with that, yes. If he is the one that will make you believe in love again, then yes.” And his shoulders shrug, not as a way to say that he doesn’t care about your feelings because he does—everyone how much he cares for you. “I just want you to be happy.”

“Then make me happy.”

There it is again.

The implication that makes his eyes dart his focus from your heavy eyelids to the small gap between your lips. It travels down to your joined hands that lay next to your plump lips. He loves it. The sight of your hands, intertwining beautifully between his and the way that you’re holding him close to you as if his presence is a gift—if only he knew how much you treasure him.

“Get some sleep okay?” Ignoring it once more by throwing his eyes to his lap.

By some miracle, Sunwoo manages to break free from your hands but not before he wipes away the leftover final drops from your doe eyes. He didn’t completely leave your side just yet though. Sunwoo just sinks his right forearm on the edge of his bed, his left on top before resting his chin later on. His eyes blinked and he held the momentary darkness for a few seconds longer before opening them again. You understand, nodding defeatedly. With Sunwoo looking over you, admiring you even though he’s much more exhausted after running around your house with an energetic child, you were able to finally slumber off to sleep. He only thought about standing when heard your drowsy breathing becoming soft snores. Even then, his hand snakes behind your nape and under all your strands, pulling your luscious locks up to hang over his pillow and leaving the cold air to cool your exposed skin.

“I love you.”

And that’s when Cupid made up his mind.

The first thing that greets you when the flock of birds chirps too loudly for your liking is the gutting feeling of wanting to run down to the toilet bowl and empty the contents of your stomach. The second thing that hits you is the desert down your throat, your hand blindly rummaging on the bedside table to find the familiar shape of your water bottle. The third thing that hits you is the remnants of a tight non-existent band that wraps around your head.

It’s all a good potion to remind yourself never to drink so much liquor in such a short period.

But the fourth thing that hits you as you rise to a sitting position, thumb and pointer running up horizontally across your eyebrows, is the familiar room that isn’t yours. It takes you a while to notice but you recognise the one familiar arcade teddy bear on the very unorganised study table on the opposite of the room. The picture framed your scowl while the owner of the room held his phone up, tongue sticking out to the camera with the little peace sign above your head.

“Shit…how the heck did I get here?” Your bed hair becomes a bird's nest in a matter of seconds. “Wait so last night I went to the convenience store,” tracing your steps carefully, “drank at the beach…” but a blank after that, “Sunwoo must've picked me up.” The dread hits at the name you just spoke, “I’m not ready to face him!”

The blanket is ripped out from your lower body, and the drop in temperature sends goosebumps all over your body. Quite simply, you're embodying the term of waking up on the wrong side of the bed without its metaphorical meaning.

There was no point in peeking through the slit between the door and the frame of Sunwoo’s bedroom because you knew directly on the other side is a wall with framed pictures of the family who resides there. You ready yourself with an inhale through your nose, preparing a bunch of words despite the still evident headache before exhaling through your mouth.

The smell of batter and vanilla becomes more evident as soon as your hand creaks the door open. It excites you knowing that your favourite breakfast isn't too far away from reach. The smile that you gave though, reminds you of the pressing matters when it strikes pain through the veins on the side of your head.

Your exclamation to the feeling is what rips Sunwoo out of his daydream, turning around to see you tiptoeing not too far behind him like a thief.

“You're awake.”

Beside him, a tower of the perfectly circular cooked batter is stacked in five, maple syrup around the rim of the treat as it drops down naturally onto the rest of its friends below. You could tell that he probably timed each side with how uniform the colours of each side were. Sunwoo hasn't picked up the panic behind your eyes, setting the plate on the island between you both.

“Take this first.” He pops the white pill from its aluminium seal and reaches for the full glass of water he prepared earlier from the fridge.

Sunwoo didn't know that his proud smile would fall as quickly as you almost did when you stepped back. His feet rooted themselves to the slippery wood underneath, his eyes widening even though you managed to grab hold of the backrest of the couch next to you.

“Are you alri—”

“I should take my leave now.” You rushed to say, “My mum must be wondering where I am.”

“I told her last night, don't worry.”

Right. Just like all the times he has done whenever you fell asleep on his shoulder while watching anime with him.

“Eat something first and I'll drop you home.” His head tilted to the alluring warm cakes on the table.

The perfect cylinder on his hand would have slipped from his sweaty palms with how you shake your head in the slightest. Now he's picking up something. Do you remember the events from last night? No, you've always been a forgetful one and he would help you remember by setting up cues and would always have his camera facing you to record the horror creeping up your face.

Whatever it is, he felt the need to take the lead first, especially with how you're avoiding even looking his way and sitting down on the board of the furniture from before, your hands gripping the polyester beside your body. He's not too far away from you, maybe a metre apart but he's feeling anxious with the air himself, turning away from you momentarily.

You hear the exhausted exhale from your best friend and that made you scared to even look his way. The rim of the glass hits the marbled top. “I'm not going to do anything to you, you know?”

“Of course I know…” Keeping your emotions at bay.

“Then?”

Cupid raised both his eyebrows, hoping that you would be able to find the courage to rightfully confront Sunwoo for the feelings in your heart. His hands clamp together, lacing together as he rests his forehead on the knuckle of his thumb, silently encouraging the growth of the couple in front of him.

“I know that it’s my fault too that I didn’t speak up about the date with Jaemin. I should’ve been more honest to him first and foremost because he’s done nothing but nice to me and yes! The date was really nice and he was a gentleman like you said Sunwoo but,” the implications of the last word wipes the proud smile that he had, lips pursed to a thin line, “I wish that you didn’t put me on the spot especially when you know that I’m scared of being around men.”

There was no audible answer that he could truly give you. What you said is true and he hates that he projected to hide his feelings for you in the worst possible way. He left you alone at night, in the hands of someone that he can’t fully tell your mother honestly that he knows. The shake of his head is slow but harsh and with a glance, you could hear the cogs turning inside the distraught boy’s head.

“I’m sorry.” Wavering in fear.

“Please don’t be.” He responds. “I’m sorry.”

Despite shutting his eyes, Sunwoo feels the looming shadow that falls over his slumped figure against the tabletop. His hands join together, a loud clap making you jump a little bit at the force of his thoughts. You watch as his hands drain the blood flow, slowly making his fist white. And though your chest hurts from the anxiety running through your veins, you decided that it was best for you to clear the awkward air.

What you did is beyond anyone’s imagination but it felt right as compared to last night—as compared to all those times two years ago. Your fingers cradle the underside of Sunwoo’s jawline, separating his chin from his chest and angle his shocked face to yours. Sunwoo would’ve genuinely run away usually, maybe even letting out one of those screeches that would leave you scolding him for the pounding of your eardrums, but something else is pounding in both of your chests and it’s syncing with each other for the first time.

You move little by little, your toes slowly moving in so that you can stand between his slightly open legs until the sides of your knees are between his. Slowly, the anterior side of his forearms starts to lift from the surface behind him, testing the waters to hold you in his arms by ghosting his already encircled arm around your middle. When you nod, Sunwoo finds himself tightening the hold immediately, pulling you into the crook of his neck while your fingers thread on the loose white of his fabric. His fingers widen their reach, wanting to feel your figure on a wider surface area.

“I’m in love with you.”

It’s such a simple line.

It wasn’t extravagant nor was it unique or poetic, yet you find yourself wanting to record it so that you could play it back whenever and wherever.

“I know you’re scared.” He affirms to your growing whimpers. “But I want to continue to love you if you’ll let me.”

Now it’s official. There was no buildup to the streams down your cheeks but you still let yourself indulge in the pent-up frustration over your lack of trust for the boy who is holding you like you’re the most precious thing in the whole world.

“If our friendship is going to end and you'll never look my way ever again, then at least please let me hold you a little bit longer.”

You wish you could at least have enough strength to throw some punches on his chest but you’re breathless in both the way your throat begs for air and in the way Sunwoo nudges the tip of his nose to a sensitive part of your neck. The same area grows colder without any effort and it takes you less than a second to realise that Sunwoo is crying himself.

“Why are you crying?” You ask as best as you can through your tears.

“Because you’re crying.” He simply answers. “It hurts me that you’ve gone through so much.” Sunwoo’s lips shudder, taking in small breaths himself. “But I’m really proud of you.”

“You say that all the time.”

Sunwoo chuckles, acknowledging the times he did say it. “And I’ll never get tired of saying it.”

Cupid relaxes his shoulders when you both slightly pull away, tender eyes looking upon each other with a wide grin appearing on you both but he could tell you both are trying your best to not look away, wanting to live in the love that the other shared in the moment. He was about to flap his wings, thinking that it was enough eavesdropping for today but you quickly pressed a light pucker to Sunwoo’s left cheek. Then to his right. Then to his philtrum. He couldn’t help but cover his eyes at your daring act but what made him push back further to the corner of the room to give you space were your words.

“Cross the line, Sunwoo.”

Sunwoo grips your waist, groaning against your lips and he’s momentarily still until you swipe the crease forming on his forehead and whisper a variation of assuring words. That’s all it takes for Sunwoo to finally close the gap between you both. It’s no longer a metre, sixty or thirty centimetres, not with the way his hands roam all over your body, needing more confirmation that you’re the one kissing him. His hands slide from your waist, gently to cup both of your bottoms, pushing you up closer to him. It elicits a soft gasp from you but Sunwoo pulls on your bottom lip to connect you back to him. Your dazed eyes met his dark ones and he took this time to swipe his wet muscle across the teeth mark to soothe the pain.

Feverish for affection, your zooms towards his lips once more, locking the plumper ones between yours before pulling away with a soft hum and engulfing the other one to give it the same amount of love. Sunwoo’s heart melts at the way you lightly tug on his scalp, the other hand sliding down along his nape and resting your palm on his collarbone. What makes him crazy is the vertical swipes that you give on his defined collarbones. He parts the kiss, pushing himself off the edge of the table and lifts you there, trapping your body with his palm on either side of your body.

“Bubs.”

“You okay?”

“More than okay.” Sunwoo chuckles, devouring your lips once more. “Can I kiss you somewhere else?” As soon as the confirmation is given, a warm hand wraps on the back of your neck and Sunwoo starts to alternate the pressure from his open mouth on the side of your neck, starting to mark you his.

The black strands of his hair swallow every part of your gripping hold on him but he smirks against your skin with the little pretty sounds dripping from your lips.

“S-Sunwoo.” Realising now that he’s painting you on a visible area. “My mum and brother are going to see.”

It’s not that you’re embarrassed by him—never him—you’re just shy at the new colour that he places on you, completely unfazed by what others think.

Possessive Kim Sunwoo—you could live with that.

“Can I pull the hoodie down a bit then?” Sunwoo pants against your skin, rough and slightly out of breath. “Only if you want it.” And he made sure you’re comfortable with whatever it’s going to be with how he wipes the forming sweat on your upper spine.

You spent what it feels like a minute holding his gaze to you. “I trust you.”

And he’s back to creating a masterpiece on your skin. Three of his fingers hook on the neckline and expose the body part that he wants to place his hungry lips on next. He watches the way your collarbones become more visible when you deeply inhale and he waits for your next breath patiently. When it does come, you slightly throw your head back at the pleasure of his soft nimbles. Sunwoo didn’t even want to spend a second away from you, his hand pushing on your lower back to press him up against you more. Your mewls are what motivate him more, pushing him just a bit more to finish the work in progress that he has in his head, pivoting his lower lip to a different angle and pressing the final press on you.

You release a breath you didn’t even know you held and Sunwoo frowns at the way you limp your upper body onto him, arms around his shoulder for support.

“S-Sorry, I didn’t mean to do it that hard.”

Your hair ruffles against his when you shake your head. “Don’t be, I enjoyed it.”

Again, the room is filled with light chuckles once more, your dangling legs kicking the air at the shared moment together. Slowly but surely, the sweat evaporates from your face but your blush is still very evident. But before you become too shy and run away once again, you respond to his words that made you both cry in each other’s safety.

“I love you too, Kim Sunwoo.” Sunwoo’s hand that has been running up and down your back stops, wondering if he heard the right words. You turn to the vein on his neck, kissing along the line until the shell of his ear. “Thank you for not giving up on me.”

Sunwoo’s heart combusted at that and he only buries his heating face into your shoulder, making you giggle even more. His whole body is on cloud nine and he’s truly the luckiest person in the world to receive such words from you.

“I want to look at you.” He says before pulling away once more, hands planted next to your thighs once more.

Sunwoo’s slender fingers tucked your strands behind your ears, squishing your cheeks in between and said a relay of sweet nothings. Even though his eye smile is mostly on you, occasional glances were being stolen somewhere else. Knowingly, your finger pulls the cloth down and you watch the shift of mischievousness start to leave.

“Is it pretty?”

The adjective is an understatement. Of course, he wanted to say ‘yes’ because it’s his art that he’s proud of. He's the one who put the distinct heart shape there, his teeth mark slowly fading on the tip of the heart where he pivoted before and the remnants of him still slightly shine on your skin thanks to the overhanging light.

“You’re prettier.” Quickly stealing a peck from your lips to silence your shy complaints. “Be mine?”

“Valentine’s Day passed, Woo.”

“Be mine for life then.”

Oh, Kim Sunwoo really does have a way with his words.

“Plus, I’m glad that we didn’t become official yesterday.” Shrugging when you tilt your head, still with that cute smile of yours. “Now we don’t have to spend our Anniversary and Valentine’s Day on the same day. More mandatory days to spend with you.”

A light shove on his chest is what you respond with but your other hand already had a grip on the lower hem of his shirt. Sunwoo almost stumbled when you pulled him back, enveloping your lips with his.

“Thank you for never giving up on me,” Hands cradling your jaw, yours doing the same and you make sure your feelings are known, “I love you so much.”

“I love you more.”

Guess Cupid changed his arrow’s trajectory much to Sunwoo’s content.

Or maybe, it’s not really his doing after all.

Truth is, Cupid never shot an arrow in Kim Sunwoo’s way.

In reality, Cupid actually shot his chance to Na Jaemin and him only—but even he has made a wrong guess. The trust and hope that you and Sunwoo share are unmatched compared to the lovesick eyes that he has matched people with.

“A love that’s greater than my powers…” Though defeated and his self-confidence took a bit of a downfall, how truly upset can he be when he sees you and Sunwoo just embracing each other, body to body, close and loving each other just the way you both are?

He’s glad of his decision to shoot that second arrow to the other boy after you both fell asleep last night.

“Now that’s a mistake that I can live with.”

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