Can I Request An Imagine For Chan, Being A Soft Boyfie Taking Care Of His Significant Other When They

Can I request an imagine for Chan, being a soft boyfie taking care of his significant other when they come back home all stressed and overwhelmed with work ✨

hi anon, here u go!! hope u enjoy it <3

i assumed this was for a fem reader but if it isn’t please let me know!!

not proofread please ignore any mistakes <3

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you toss your bag onto the chair as you walk into the bedroom, flopping onto the bed in exhaustion. you’re too tired to manage anything but a small smile when you feel the bed dip beside you.

“hi, you”, chan whispers, rubbing small circles on the back of your hand.

“hi”, you breathe out, so very grateful for his presence.

he gently coaxes you into a sitting position, pulling you into his side softly before dropping a kiss on your head. “long day?”, he questions. you nod against his shoulder and sigh.

“not great, either. two presentations due next week and a research essay due thursday”, it sounds like one long word the way it tumbles out of your mouth.

chan squeezes your shoulder softly, lightly tracing patterns on your arm. “a movie and bed, then? have you eaten?”, his brows furrow when you shake your head no. “dinner, movie and bed”, he amends with a decisive nod.

he leaves another kiss on your forehead before leaving the room and returning with a pack of makeup wipes. he stands in front of you and gently tugs you up onto your feet before gathering you into his arms. “let’s freshen you up, yeah?”, he whispers into your hair. you nod in gratitude and thank your stars for chan, for his presence and for his unwavering support.

you find yourself sat on the bathroom countertop with chan stood between your knees. he gently swipes at the makeup on your cheeks with damp wipes, humming at his work in approval before moving to your forehead. one of his hand gently holds your chin, tilting your face towards his. as he wipes across your forehead his eyes drop to yours, your soft gaze and warm smile making his knees weak. you feel his hand move from your chin to the side of your face, cupping your cheek with all the care in the world. chan strokes your skin once, twice, before leaning down and pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. you smile into the kiss, squeezing his forearm as you feel him sigh into your mouth.

“you’re unbelievable”, he whispers, pulling away.

“i’ve done nothing but sit here. you’re unbelievable”, you respond with an incredulous shake of your head.

“just sitting here and yet driving me crazy”.

you blush at his words, cheeks dusted a soft pink as you swat at his arm. the laugh you draw from him is all you needed to hear today.

the bath that chan runs for you is steaming when you sink into the water and lukewarm when you finally decide to step out. you reach for the towel rack to dry off and your brows knit together when you find no towels hanging from the metal rod.

“channie?”, you call out from the bathroom, praying he’s not too far on the other side of the door. you’d walk out and fetch one yourself but the new rug by your shared bed would take the brunt of your bath.

“yes? you okay in there, love?”, you hear through the bathroom door.

“all good! could you please hand me a towel? there’s none in here”. you hear a muffled hum of acknowledgment before the door creaks open.

chan pokes his head into the bathroom to pass you a towel. it must be fresh out the dryer, you think, when you feel how warm it is in your hands. you look up at your boyfriend and find his cheeks blazing, eyes turned to the floor.

“chan?”, you question. “what is it?”

he shakes his head softly before looking up at you in wonder. you wrap yourself up in the towel before walking towards him, stepping into the bedroom as he moves away from the door to make room for you.

“you’re gorgeous”, you hear him whisper behind you and you turn around to face a chan that looks like he’s been struck by cupid.

“this isn’t new to you, love”, you chuckle, squeezing his hand.

“might as well be, seeing how i can never get used to it”, he replies. and now it’s your turn to blush.

he sits himself down on the edge of the bed, quietly watching you in awe as you change into an old pair of shorts and one of his t-shirts. he thinks his heart could burst. “dinner”, he announces softly after you’re ready, tugging you into the living room.

post dinner, you find yourself in bed with blankets wrapped around you, head resting on chan’s chest and an arm lazily slug over his torso. his arm is resting securely on your waist, soft kisses being placed atop your head.

“movie?”, he mumbles into your hair. he moves towards the laptop on the bedside table when he feels you nod against his chest.

he’s setting the laptop on his legs, finding a comfortable place to rest it when when he asks you what you’re in the mood for. he tinkers with the laptop a little more before asking again, ready to pick what you respond with. he looks down at your head when he doesn’t hear an answer.

your eyes are closed, face pressed against his chest while yours rises and falls rhythmically. his eyes soften and he melts, fond smile growing on his face. he carefully replaces the laptop before settling further into the pillows,.

he gently moves your head higher up his chest, a precaution he takes just in case you wake up with a sore neck. with a whispered ‘goodnight’, he drops a soft kiss to your head.

taking care of each other is routine. because at the end of the day, he has you and you have him.

not so holy night

member | teacher!jihoon x teacher!reader genre | smut with plot, a teeny bit of drama (barely any), lots of fluff at the end word count | ~6,900 warnings | reader has a vagina and breasts, unprotected sex, oral (reader receiving), grinding, fingering, cumshot, some begging, please lmk if i missed any warnings! notes | this is the sequel to "not so silent night", which is posted on my sfw blog @junkissed! i would recommend reading part 1 first, since there's quite a bit of plot in this one! dedicated to @onlymingyus because she was going to murder me for that cliffhanger in part 1 hehe. so voila here is part 2! enjoy :) fyi i only read this like once bc i really wanted to post it tonight so if there's mistakes look away

this work contains nsfw content. minors dni or you will be blocked.

drinks and dinner. dinner and drinks. that’s all that’s going to happen tonight. why are you so nervous?

when saturday finally rolls around, you stand in front of your bathroom mirror an hour before jihoon is supposed to pick you up, scrutinizing your outfit choice. the holiday staff party is always hosted at a fancy restaurant downtown, the whole place rented out for all the teachers and administrators for dinner, with music and mingling afterwards.

in the four years you’ve been a teacher at the middle school, this is the first year you’re actually going to bring a date.

is it a date? is it friends? is it coworkers? you think it’s a date; after all, you did get coffee before school with jihoon twice this week. it could be a friend thing, but the way he looks at you when he thinks you’re distracted makes you think otherwise.

it’s going to be a long night, you already know. nothing like the little half-hour meetups for coffee or eating lunch together in the back corner of the teacher’s lounge. a solid two, three hours for the dinner alone, not to mention the drinks you’re getting with him beforehand and however long you’ll end up staying afterwards.

you’re mentally counting the time and figuring out when you might get home so you can put on your ratty pajamas and nurse your inevitable wine headache as you reflect on the evening. god, when did dating get so exhausting?

you twist in the mirror, checking out the way your ass looks in the dress. not bad. is it too forward of you to have put on your nice lingerie underneath, “just in case”? probably, but it’s not like you get an opportunity like this every day. if you’ve understood correctly, jihoon’s stuck in the same boat you are: painfully single, and not getting any younger.

and your mind starts to wander when out of nowhere your mind brings up a mental image of his long, slender fingers, and you can’t help but think about jihoon’s hands sliding up your legs and parting your folds, adding one finger, then another, then a third until you’re crying his name in relief, and–

jesus, it’s been way too long since you’ve gotten laid.

but even with just the passing thought of him, the nervous butterflies in your stomach travel lower, and you’re trying to will yourself to stop thinking about him before you ruin your only cute pair of panties.

you flick the bathroom lightswitch off and head to the living room to put something on tv, anything to clear your mind.

eventually your thoughts subside, and before you know it your doorbell is ringing and you’re scrambling to turn off the tv and make sure everything on your coffee table looks like it was put there intentionally and that you haven’t been anxiously adjusting it for the past hour.

you take a deep breath and turn the doorknob, but nothing could’ve prepared you for the man standing outside your door.

it almost feels like you’ve gotten the wind knocked out of you when you look at him. the sleek grey suitjacket that’s tailored perfectly around the broad shoulders you never noticed before (how the fuck did you not notice that before?). the too-tight white button down that frames the muscles in his chest. the way the cuffs of his sleeves are rolled up to the elbows, exposing forearms that are so toned, they look like they could deadlift a piano.

you don’t know who this man is, but he’s definitely not the shy mr. lee you’re used to seeing across the hall every day.

for some reason he seems to be equally taken aback by your outfit, which you honestly can’t understand why he would be, when he himself looks like that. but with the way he’s eyeing you up and down like he has to physically hold himself back from pouncing on you, suddenly this night just got a whole lot more exciting.

“hi,” you manage, still unable to take your eyes off of him. “you, uh… you look really good.”

it’s like he doesn’t even hear your compliment, he’s so focused on you. “i’ve, um– you–” he exhales sharply. “wow.”

you blink a few times, trying to clear your head of the barrage of dirty thoughts swirling around and get yourself back on track. “so. drinks?”

his eyes dart up to your face, seeming like he’s snapped out of it. “yes! yes. my friend owns a bar near the restaurant, so i thought it might be fun to start there.” he clears his throat, muttering under his breath. “although now, i think i have better things to do.”

you smile and nod, pretending you didn’t hear him, but oh my god you heard him and oh my god you’re not gonna last long tonight. you’d hate to bail on your date, but if things keep going how they have in the five minutes you’ve seen him, you don’t know how long you’ll be able to handle sitting next to him and not having his dick inside you in some way, shape, or form.

you grab your purse and keys and lock your front door, following jihoon to his car. he pulls on the passenger side door handle, holding it open for you and even offering his hand to help you in.

you don’t know where this man came from out of nowhere, but you really kinda like it.

the drive across town is… tense, but somehow in a good way. it feels comfortable riding in his car; though you’ve only done it once before, it feels like you’ve been in his passenger seat your whole life.

“drinks are on me,” he says as you pull up in front of the bar, a swanky little place squished in between a used bookstore and an italian grill in a long line of shops.

you smile politely, still fighting the heat creeping up in your cheeks. “jihoon, please, you don’t have to. i know how much you make in a year.”

he pulls his keys from the ignition, and the car falls silent. “and? tonight i’m spending it on you. it’s a special occasion.”

you don’t reply, partially because you’re already planning on paying for your own drinks when he isn’t looking, and partially because wtf does he mean it’s a special occasion?

you’re still immersed in trying to figure out what he means that you don’t notice when he check his side mirror for traffic and flings his door open when there’s a lull in cars whizzing by. he jogs in front of the car around to your side by the curb, opening your door and helping you out.

“thank you,” you mumble, trying to avoid staring at his chest that’s coincidentally right in front of your face.

at 5pm on a saturday evening the sidewalk is packed with people, and jihoon slides his arm around you, placing a hand gently on your lower back to guide you to the bar’s entrance. you have to force yourself not to shiver; despite the fabric of your thin sweater on top of your dress, it feels like his hand might as well be pressed against your bare skin.

you manage to find two seats at the bar, and a bartender in a black embroidered apron walks up when jihoon raises a hand to wave him over.

“if it isn’t lee jihoon,” the man grins, putting both hands on the counter. “nice to see you, buddy.”

“nice to see you, too, gyu.” jihoon turns to introduce you. “this is my friend, mingyu. he runs the place.”

you smile, offering him a polite greeting.

“so this is the lucky girl, hm?” mingyu asks, winking at you.

jihoon coughs, and you almost think you see him glare at the man, but his scowl quickly fades when he turns back to you. “ignore him. what do you want to drink?”

you give mingyu your order, and he smiles, pulling two glasses from the rack behind him. “the usual, uji?” he asks, and jihoon nods.

finally settling in, you shrug off your sweater, folding it carefully over the back of the chair before you notice jihoon staring at you.

“i’m gonna… go to the bathroom,” he says hurriedly. “i’ll be right back.” he gets up and dashes towards the back of the room, hands shoved deep in his pockets.

you turn to watch him disappear into the crowd, offering him a smile as he leaves. as soon as he’s out of sight, you grab your wallet from your purse, seeing your chance. jihoon is sweet, but you don’t need him to pay for your drinks, too. just being here with him is the most fun you’ve had in a long time.

you catch mingyu’s attention and wave him over, pulling out a few bills. you start to hand them to him, but he shakes his head. “sorry, no can do. i’ve been told not to let you pay for your drinks, it’s jihoon’s treat.”

you sigh and stuff the money back into your purse. fine.

“between you and me…” he starts, and you look back up at him curiously. “uji’s been really happy lately, and if i had to guess, you’re probably the reason why. so if things go bad on your date tonight, just… don’t break his heart, ‘kay?”

your eyes widen. “no, i wouldn’t– i wasn’t planning on–” you stammer, but he’s already walking away to refill somebody’s cocktail, and you’re left wondering what the hell he was talking about.

it was only supposed to be a couple of friendly outings. you can’t feel this way about your coworker, someone you see right across the hall for eight hours a day every monday through friday… right? but if mingyu’s right (and you have no reason to believe he isn’t), then jihoon feels the same way about you. shit, this is deeper than you thought.

before you started… whatever this is with jihoon, you didn’t really talk to him much, even though your classrooms were right next door. you just never happened to see him in passing.

sure, you heard the off-key guitar solos from his students at nine in the morning on mondays and wednesdays, and every once in a while you saw him sitting alone in the teacher’s lounge, earbuds plugged in, nodding his head to whatever song he was listening to and tapping his fingers on the table. but it’s a big school, anyways; it’s easy to not know every teacher that works there, especially ones in a different department.

eventually jihoon comes back, and you spend the next couple hours sipping your drinks, chatting and laughing like you usually do. before you know it he’s looking down at his watch and cursing. “we should go, if we don’t wanna be late,” he says, downing the rest of his drink.

of course, it’s just your luck that now you have absolutely zero appetite for food, and an insatiable appetite for jihoon. his hair is messed, glistening a little as if he ran his fingers through it with water, and his cheeks are practically glowing.

jihoon reaches out for you, and you take his hand, letting him lead you out of the bar. mingyu waves goodbye, a grin on his face as he watches the two of you walk away.

the ride to the restaurant is more tense than you’d like it to be, but it’s probably imagined tension from you more than it is actual tension.

while you’re desperately trying to pretend you don’t want him to pull the car over and fuck you in the backseat, you don’t notice how he’s pretending he doesn’t want to turn the car around and drive home and fuck you there instead of going to this whole stupid dinner in the first place. you stare out your window, keeping your hands planted firmly in your lap, and he stares out the windshield, keeping his hands firmly wrapped around the steering wheel.

too quickly, you arrive at the restaurant and he parks in the lot out back. again, he gets out and jogs around to the passenger side to open your door for you again, offering his hand to help you out. your cheeks warm, and you hope he can’t tell how nervous you are.

walking through the lot towards the building, you recognize a few of your coworkers’ cars. past you that used to attend the teacher parties alone would’ve been a little disappointed that you’re so late to the event, but you that’s here now couldn’t care less about how late you show up, when you could be spending time alone with jihoon instead.

although, the amount of people around you tonight is probably for the best, because if they weren’t there you don’t think you’d be able to stop yourself from jumping him and fucking him in the middle of the restaurant.

he opens the door and smiles at the greeter, who leads you back to the private room where the rest of the party is. you feel jihoon’s grip on your waist tighten imperceptibly when the man glances at you for just a beat too long before showing you the table, and you force yourself to ignore the way your stomach does backflips at his touch.

the room is huge, with two long buffet tables for all the employees who are laughing and chatting. you find two empty seats near the end of the table and quickly a waiter comes over to offer you drinks. having already had enough to drink at mingyu’s bar, you settle for water, wanting to stay sober for whatever happens later. jihoon orders a coke.

some of the administrators order appetizers for the table, and as you wait for them to get passed down to you one of your coworkers walks over.

you look up at her and smile. “hey, jan–”

“hi, jihoon,” she purrs, completely ignoring you as she wraps her arm around your date’s shoulders, the martini in her hand sloshing with the movement.

your smile drops, and you look away, focusing on the ice cubes in your glass as if it’s the most interesting thing in the world. at least, it’s more interesting than watching your married coworker shamelessly flirt with the man you’re supposed to be on a date with. you should’ve known a man as attractive as jihoon would have women throwing themselves at him all night. maybe this was a bad idea after all.

he stiffens, brows knitting into a scowl when he sees you avoiding him. “mrs. walker,” he greets her in response, tone flat. “is your husband not able to make it tonight? i had such a nice conversation with him last year about his business trip.”

she giggles. “oh no, he’s working tonight. but…” she trails off, smoothing a hand down his arm. “we could always go have a conversation about another kind of business instead.”

you nearly snort water out your nose at her forwardness, and for a second you contemplate ordering an uber and just going home right now. god, were all the teachers usually this bad, or had you just not noticed it until you were seated next to somebody like jihoon?

he clears his throat, a little too loudly. “sorry, but my date and i have plans,” he says.

at the mention of your name you glance over your shoulder, giving her a short nod before you return to staring at the water droplets rolling down the side of your glass.

her grin falters, but she recovers quickly. “oh! i didn’t know you two came together,” she says, giving you a look as she sips her martini.

jihoon doesn’t respond, his arms crossed and staring at his empty plate. your coworker stands behind his chair in silence until the awkwardness is too much, and she lets out another forced laugh. “well, i’ll leave you be, then. but you have my number if you change your mind and wanna do something more fun tonight,” she mutters, downing the rest of her drink and stumbling off in search of the nearest waiter for another round.

the restaurant is filled with loud conversations, but an uncomfortable silence settles between you.

so what if you are a little jealous? you surely have no right to be; you’ve only gone out with this man a handful of times, not nearly enough to call him yours. but for tonight, for right now, he’s your date, and you feel entitled to at least a little bit of sulking.

jihoon coughs a little, finally breaking the silence. “i’m sorry about her.”

you stir your straw around your water glass, still avoiding his eyes. “not your fault.”

“yeah, but still,” he says with a sigh. “she didn’t have to be an asshole to you.”

“it’s fine,” you say halfheartedly, bringing the plastic straw to your lips to take a small sip. “all the teachers get plastered at the staff parties.”

“you don’t, though,” he says after a pause.

“neither do you, looks like,” you say, pointing to the coke can in his hand.

he laughs. “no, not really… not when i have more fun things to do.”

for the second time that night you almost spit out your water. “that’s not funny, jihoon.”

“but you’re smiling,” he says, a grin of his own rising on his face, and you can’t hide the way your smile mirrors his.

you give in, letting out a laugh at his stupid joke, somehow both hating and loving how he was able to brighten your mood.

he smiles, his eyes sparkling under the restaurant lights. “do you maybe wanna… leave?”

ten minutes later, after a rushed goodbye to the assistant principal who was probably too drunk to even recognize you, your back is pressed against the side of jihoon’s car, your hands tangled in his hair as you moan into his mouth. his lips crash against yours, hands falling to your waist again as he pushes you into the passenger door.

when you pull away to take a breath, you can see his hair’s messed up again in that effortlessly sexy way that makes your heart race.

“can we go– someplace else?” you breathe. fuck if the back of your dress is totally dirty now from the car, you’re itching to get out of it—or have it taken off of you.

“shit, yes,” jihoon answers in between kisses up your jawline. “my place or yours?”

you whine at the feeling of his teeth against your skin. “anywhere, fuck– whatever’s closer.”

you find yourself in yet another extremely tense car ride as jihoon floors it down the highway, probably breaking more than a few traffic laws in his rush to get home. his house ends up being closer to the restaurant, so that’s where you decide on going.

he pulls in the driveway and you don’t even give him a chance to come around to open your door for you, jumping out of the car as soon as it’s turned off.

his hands fumble with his keys, but finally he gets the front door open and you both fall inside his house. the door slams shut behind you and immediately you’re shoved against it, jihoon’s hips pushing into you to keep you in place as you frantically grab at his broad shoulders to pull him closer. kissing him is addictive; the dizzying rush of his tongue in your mouth and his hands exploring your body makes you weak in the knees.

after a while you break apart, heaving for air as the lustful intensity starts to melt away into something more careful, but no less alluring. it’s finally starting to sink in that you’re kissing jihoon, you’re in his house, and you’re definitely getting laid tonight.

a sudden burst of confidence has you slipping one hand down, feeling his hips jerk when you palm him lightly over his pants.

“god, i’ve been hard for the past two hours,” he mutters through gritted teeth as your delicate fingers play with the top button on his slacks.

“you act like i haven’t been wet for the past two hours,” you reply, and he groans in relief when you undo the zipper, releasing some of the tension around his cock from how tight the dress pants were.

his hands grab at your waist, spinning you around to face away from him so he can unzip your dress. with how desperate he is—how you both are—you expect him to tug it off you as quickly as possible, but to your surprise, he moves slowly.

his hands smooth across your shoulders, running over your body through the fabric, and you shiver; the feeling of his touch is almost too much, even while you’re still fully clothed. his hands slide down your back, slowly moving to the sides of your breasts and traveling lower until they come to a stop at your waist.

he pulls you back against him, lightly grinding against your ass, and you whimper. you could already see he was, but now you know he really is as hard as he said, his clothed cock pressing into you.

his fingers move back up your body to toy with the zipper at the base of your neck, sending chills down your spine. he leans closer, and you can feel his breath on your neck as he leans in to press a kiss to the sensitive skin beneath your earlobe.

“is this okay?” he breathes.

you whine, shifting on your feet to bring his lips back closer to you. “yes! please, jihoon.”

you can feel his smile against your neck before he dives back in, sucking lightly at your skin, burning hot under his touch. you’re sure he can feel your pulse racing a mile a minute as your legs start to buckle at the pleasure.

before you can stop yourself, you let out a loud moan, your head rolling back to rest against him and inadvertently exposing more of your neck to him. you feel his grip tighten around you, beginning to suck harder until you’re sure it’ll leave dark bruises. but for some reason, you don’t care. you want to carry around his marks on your neck. you want it to be a little obvious. if not for you, then to show that bitch jan what she was missing.

he pulls his mouth away from you and you whine again, but he just hums and puts his hands against your back, finally beginning to pull at the zipper.

he stops once it’s halfway down your body, moving his fingers back up to your shoulders to slip the fabric off, letting it hang around your waist.

he turns you around to face him, and you hastily reach around to unclasp your bra, letting it fall to the floor. he leans down and pushes his face into your bare breasts, moaning as he begins to sink to his knees in front of you.

if you hadn’t completely soaked through your panties earlier, you definitely have by now. you can feel the throbbing heat between your legs, begging for him to touch you, to do anything.

he must read your mind, because immediately his hands reach behind you to grab onto the zipper again, tugging it down the rest of the way. he leaves a trail of kisses as the fabric falls to the side, starting in between your breasts and moving down lower, lower, past your belly button until he’s kissing the hem of your panties and your dress is in a pile at your feet.

you slip out of the dress, stepping out of your shoes as well as jihoon’s hands wrap around the backs of your thighs, pulling you into his face. he groans, his nose smushing against your clit through your underwear, and you gasp at the sudden contact.

he looks up at you, half his face obscured by the way he’s pressed against your body, only his eyes meeting yours, silently asking to continue. you whine out his name and another “please”, and that seems to satisfy him enough to loop his fingers underneath the waistband of your underwear and tug them down to your knees.

the moment he presses his mouth to your pussy is like nothing you’ve ever felt before. the way his tongue darts out, laving over every inch of the skin between your legs, has you squeezing your eyes shut in pure bliss and begging him not to stop. your hand shoots to his head, struggling for something to hold onto to keep you grounded at the sudden pleasure.

but just as you start to feel your orgasm approaching, he pulls off of you in a rush, panting as he sits back on his heels. he couldn’t have had his tongue on you for more than a few seconds, but it was more than enough to build you up before he tore you right back down.

he pulls your panties back up your legs, fixing them back at your hips as he stands up. you shoot him a panicked look. he’s not about to eat you out, not let you finish, and then bail on you… is he?

but he just wipes his hand across the back of his mouth and picks your dress and shoes up off the hardwood floor. “we’re still in the front doorway,” he chuckles. he puts his hand on your lower back, your warm skin prickling at his cool touch as he leads you down the hall to what you assume is his bedroom. “thought you’d be more comfortable here.”

he flicks on the light and tosses your dress and shoes at the foot of the bed while you look around. his room is small but tidy, a keyboard in one corner and a few different guitars mounted on the wall.

it’s a pretty cool room, and if you weren’t so incredibly horny right now, you’d ask him to tell you about all his things, but right now all you can focus on is the tent in his pants that you’re praying will find its way between your legs sometime soon.

you’re still on edge from the orgasm he pulled you away from earlier, so you fall onto his bed with no hesitation, hoping he’ll get the hint as you lay in nothing but your underwear.

and he does, immediately coming over to you and beginning to strip down.

you should be embarrassed about how wet you are right now, but when your insanely sexy coworker is hurriedly pulling his shirt off, practically ripping the buttons off at how fast he throws it off, you have more important things on your mind.

he drops to his knees at the edge of the bed, so close you can feel his breath on your cunt. you throw your head back as his fingers slip beneath the waistband of your panties for a second time, effortlessly tugging them all the way off and tossing them into the pile along with the rest of your outfit.

he hums, collecting your wetness on the tip of his finger as he drags it through your folds. his hands are freezing cold in contrast to the heat between your legs. “so it wasn’t just me,” he says to himself, admiring the way his finger glistens with moisture.

“h-huh?” you stutter, lifting your head to look down at him. the way he’s crouching between your legs like he’s about to devour you makes you forget everything else that’s happened tonight.

he ghosts his lips over your clit, giving you a quick kiss. “for a while i thought you were only being friendly, when you went out with me all those times.”

“but look how wet you are,” and he holds his finger up for you to see. “so it wasn’t just me that wanted you so bad. you wanted me too.”

he pushes his finger back into you for just a moment, spreading your juices around and wiping his fingers on the inside of your thigh. “wanted to bend you over that table in the coffee shop, the one in the corner we always sit at,” he groans out. “the counter in the teacher’s lounge, by the window. the bathroom sink at gyu’s bar earlier. and especially at the table at the restaurant. wanted to fuck you goddamn everywhere.”

“jihoon, please,” you whimper. him confessing how much he likes you turns you on, more than you’d like to admit.

“please, what?”

maybe it’s a little much to be asking for the first time with you, he’ll admit, but you’re both so desperate for each other, and you’re really enjoying it, so he figures he might as well go all out.

you throw your head back, but you give him what he wants. “please, will you eat me out, jihoon?”

and as much as he loves the way his name sounds falling from your lips, he’s not done with you yet. “soon,” he replies simply, and you start to protest until he shoves his finger back inside of you.

you try to hold back a yelp at his sudden touch, but it escapes you. he tsks, slowly adding a second finger and ignoring the way you shiver. “don’t be quiet, baby. with all the noise we make in my classroom, i never hear a peep out of you across the hall. i know you can be loud when you want to.”

and you do want to. it’s almost frightening how suddenly his personality has flipped– the shy man you only saw briefly in the halls now has you completely wrapped around his finger, begging him to touch you. and you don’t even care.

the next time he pumps his fingers in and out of your dripping hole, you don’t hold back your moans, breath catching in your throat as he begins to speed up. “there you go. good girl,” he coos in a low voice that makes you clench automatically around his fingers, and he grins mischievously. “you make such pretty sounds. should fuck you in my classroom next time, they’ve got better acoustics in there so i can hear your pretty voice better.”

you’re much too focused on the way his thumb is flicking your swollen clit to comprehend the way he says “next time” as if this isn’t a one time thing. but after, when you’ve recovered enough to remember the things said in the heat of the moment, those words are something you won’t forget.

“jihoon, please, don’t talk about work while you’re fucking me,” you manage.

he just grins and laughs, pushing his fingers into you faster. before you know it you feel your orgasm building back up, and you have to resist the urge to reach down and tug on his hair to get him to go faster.

but somehow he must know you’re getting close, because he leans forward and wraps his lips around your clit and starts sucking, hard. your back arches and you gasp, not expecting the sudden warmth of his mouth on you.

he flicks his tongue as his fingers continue to pump in and out of you, and with a cry of his name he finally lets you cum. your cunt clenches hard around his fingers, so tight he can barely keep moving them, but somehow he does, helping you through your orgasm as wave after wave of intense pleasure washes over you.

you lay on his bed, panting, trying to catch your breath as he stands up, finally removing his own underwear.

“are you alright?” he asks, and you sit up on your elbows, your vision returned enough to see him now standing nude in front of you.

your eyes are glued to his cock when you answer, staring at how gorgeous it looks and how badly you want him in your mouth. “yeah, i’m–”

“then get up.”

your eyes widen. “huh?”

“do you wanna be on top?” he asks, but you’re already shifting to move off of the bed.

“yes, please.”

he grins. “good.” he sits down where you were just laying, cock resting against his defined abs as you climb up to straddle him. immediately his hands find your waist, guiding you over him.

you push your hips down to grind your clit over his length, not putting him inside you just yet, but moving so he slides through your folds, coating him in your juices.

it’s almost pathetic how eagerly you’re writhing against him, sliding up and down his abs desperately. your eyes are squeezed shut as you concentrate on the pleasure, so you miss the way he stares up at you like you’re the best thing he’s ever seen.

what you don’t miss is the way his hands begin to grip more roughly at your hips, helping you ride him until he forces your movements to stop. you pry your eyes open to look at him.

“can i fuck you now?” he asks, and the sudden breathiness in his tone gives you a rush like you’ve never felt.

“please, jihoon,” you whimper in response, voice equally as breathy. “please, been waiting all night.”

he leans his head back against the pillows and exhales, letting his eyes fall closed for a second. “good, because i was about to cum from that.”

you giggle, placing your hands flat on his chest. “well, that wouldn’t exactly be a bad thing.”

he groans. “i know, but then i wouldn’t get to fuck you.”

you lean down to kiss him and he melts into your lips, his hands sliding up your back to grip at your shoulders and pull you closer.

he pushes up and manages to flip you over onto your back again, pressing one more kiss to your lower lip before shuffling down the bed. you spread your legs apart to give him better access, and he positions himself between them, looking down at you with a woozy smile on his face.

he begins pushing into you and you moan. the feeling of being full is something you haven’t felt in a while, but the feeling of being full of jihoon is a completely different story, and you don’t know whether you could go back to anyone else, even if you wanted to.

he pauses for a minute to let you adjust, and you breathe a sigh of relief when you finally feel him pull out and slowly push back in.

“god, you feel so fucking good,” he whines as he starts to increase his pace, hips rocking against yours.

you let your head fall back against the pillows in open-mouthed pants. “more, jihoon, please.”

he leans down and pushes your thighs up against your chest, holding your legs as he continues to pound into you. you vaguely register the praises that fall from his lips with how good he feels inside of you, each thrust angled perfectly to have you already coming closer and closer to the edge.

“jihoon– please! ‘m so close, please let me cum,” you sputter, hands fisting at the sheets for something to hold on to. you don’t know where this side of you came from all of a sudden, asking him for permission, but you can’t deny you kind of like it.

“go on, baby, cum for me,” he says, his voice low and breathy.

and with one more thrust you do, falling apart around him as pleasure burns through every inch of you. all you can do is whimper and let him fuck you through your orgasm, your vision going blank for a few seconds from so much stimulation all at once.

he keeps pushing into you, only easing his pace when you blink up at him, slowly coming back down to earth. your walls spasm around him in the aftershocks of your orgasm, and you feel his cock twitch inside of you when you murmur out his name. his thrusts get sloppier and more hurried as he begins to chase his own orgasm.

“wh–where do you want me to–”

“on my face?” you interrupt, answering his question for him.

he curses under his breath, immediately followed by a low moan. “you’re gonna be the death of me,” he mutters. you clench around him and he swears again, finally pulling out of your cunt and holding his cock above you.

his hand moves quickly back and forth along his length as he chases his high, and it hits when you open your mouth wide, letting your tongue loll out, the lustful look on your face making him lose his mind.

his thick spurts of cum cover your upper half, painting your chin, your neck, your collarbones with white. the little bit that lands on your tongue you eagerly swallow, opening again to show him your empty mouth afterwards, and he groans at the sight.

he rolls over onto the bed, spent. the room is quiet for a minute, the only sound your soft exhales and his labored breathing as it begins to slow.

he presses a kiss to your cheek and slides off the bed, leaving the room for a second before he returns with a cool, wet washcloth, gently cleaning you off. in the moments he’s gone you sigh, feeling the softness of the sheets beneath you and basking in the fading glow of your orgasm.

since it’s saturday night and your sundays are usually free, you decide to spend the night with him. both of you are too exhausted to drive, and jihoon is more than happy to let you stay over. of course he would never force you to stay and he would happily pay for your uber home if you wanted, but he won’t deny that he secretly was hoping to spend a little more time with you before school on monday.

you scrub the makeup off your face as best you can and slip into the clothes he offered you, a t-shirt and a pair of soft cotton shorts. after getting cleaned up and comfortable, he makes a small pot of coffee and shows you the rest of his house. it’s a cute little place; not the biggest, but just right for him.

there’s an instrument in almost every room, and now you sit at the edge of his bed wrapped in a blanket, working up the courage to ask him if he’ll play something for you. “i always hear your students, but i’ve never heard you,” you laugh.

he smiles and pulls one of his guitars off the wall, just a hint of a blush creeping into his cheeks as he adjusts the tuning pegs. he strums a couple notes, humming along quietly as he settles into a gentle rhythm.

later, you’re lying in bed with him (he offered to sleep on the couch and let you have his bed to yourself, but you insisted on him staying). the colored lamp on his bedside table is on, casting a soft red glow around the room.

the sheets rustle as he rolls over onto his side. “i’m sorry if it was… intense, earlier,” he says quietly. “i was–” he pauses, thinking of his next words carefully. “i was excited. you’re so… i really admire you. so i might’ve been a little too eager.”

with a little effort you manage to roll over to face him. you reach across the sheets to run your hand through his hair, gently tucking it behind his ear. “don’t apologize,” you whisper. “it was perfect.”

he sighs, and even in the dim red light you can see his shoulders visibly relax. “i’m glad you decided to spend the night,” he whispers back.

you smile. “me too.”

“so you have a boyfriend now?”

you glance up, trying not to instinctively rub at the fading marks on your neck. “and what makes you think that?” you say. okay, so maybe you do technically have… something, now.

“i saw pictures of you and mr. lee on the school’s facebook from the christmas party,” heather says nonchalantly.

before you can even think of a response, something like, “why are you searching for pictures of me,” or, “since when does the school have a facebook profile?”, she shrugs and goes back to her grammar assignment. you were so caught up in jihoon at the party that you honestly don't even remember anyone taking pictures, but you can only hope they didn’t catch the way you were looking at each other in a decidedly not pg-rated way, right before you decided to leave the event.

you hold in a laugh, watching her. she doesn’t say anything more, so you look back at the homework in front of you, waiting to finish being graded. a shiver runs down your spine at the memory of jihoon’s hands roaming your body over the weekend, coaxing orgasm after orgasm out of you with his fingers and his tongue and his beautiful cock.

“if you two get married, can i be the flower girl?” you hear a minute later, interrupting the silence—and your naughty daydreams. “since it was me that got you together.”

“we’ll see,” you glare playfully, raising your eyebrows. after saturday night spent together and the following lazy sunday afternoon filled with soft kisses in between heated touches, you can’t say it isn’t entirely out of the question. but that’s not something you’re about to tell heather and her little gossip group. those details, you’ll have to keep to yourself.

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hans0ul

1 year ago

Junhui as memes in my camera roll

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hans0ul

1 year ago

His Love in Her Force

Pairing: undercover detective!Jaehyun x ballerina!reader

Genre: fake marriage au, hate to love, action, drama, fluff, romance, small town au, slow burn, smut, suspense

Word Count: 28k (it's worth it if you like slow burn, promise)

Summary: Fleeing from a ruthless stalker, you are forced to participate in a witness protection program at the other side of the world, pretending to be the wife of a taciturn undercover detective from now on. Despite all differences, you slowly start to settle with your new life as a married couple - until your newfound happiness is stripped away from you all over again.

A/N: Loosely inspired by a friend's friend case that went viral where I live. Jaehyun goes by several names here (Jay Jung, Jung Jaehyun and Jeong Yuno).

Imagine leaving everything behind.

Your home, your friends, your family.

Life as you knew it, vanished overnight, and you had to start anew at the other side of the world.

People easily let such a wish slip when their ordinary life got too exhausting. But what many truly meant was that they wanted to take a break from their daily routine and relax a few weeks under the tropical sun.

They could always come back to the security and comfort of their stable home, and that was why only the minority was serious and courageous enough to actually go through with the plans of starting anew somewhere far away.

And then, there were people like you. The ones who didn’t have a choice.

“Mrs. Jung, please put up your table, we’re starting to descend,” the stewardess told you.

Mrs. Jung. That was your new name now.

You had no relation to this surname that you had gotten assigned to only sixteen hours ago through a fake ID and passport at the airport. It sounded so foreign and disturbing to your ears.

This “Mrs. Jung” wasn’t you, yet you had to slip into her role and pretend to have been someone else’s wife for a significant part of your life already. It was a role you didn’t deem yourself to be suitable for at all.

You were a young, single woman who lived her childhood dream of being a ballet dancer. After having attended different dance academies around Asia and Europe, you had settled with your first engagement, the Korea National Ballet, back in Seoul for the meantime where your family was residing.

A week ago, you had gotten the confirmation letter that you were accepted into the Dutch National Ballet after having studied there the year prior.

Your life was finally everything you had been working so hard towards since you were little.

And then, your future had gotten stripped away from you. Just like that.

“Mrs. Jung?” The stewardess passed by again. “The table.”

“Oh sorry,” you quickly apologized and put it up to properly lock it.

You then proceeded to stare out of the window, the plane having brought you to a continent you had never set foot on ever before. Narrow streets, tiny houses and small forests passed by you in a blur of earthly colors as the plane slowly angled downwards to start its final descent.

You hated your new life already.

_____

“My duty here is finished,” the officer, who had been accompanying you all the way to the US, told you. “I’ll be taking the next flight back. But no worries, a driver is already waiting for you and will escort you to your new home. You must be relieved, you’re almost there now, Miss.”

“Relieved, detective?” you mocked and crossed your arms in front of your chest. “I’ll be exchanging the life of a successful ballerina for the one of a housewife, stuck in the nowhere on the other side of the world, because you couldn’t do your job right. What in the hell should I be relieved about, tell me?”

“Listen, Miss.” He lowered his voice as though there were other people besides you in this domestic charter flight. “Detective Jeong is one of our best people for this job here, I heard. So when it’s about life or death, there is no other place you’d rather be at the moment. He surely wants to be elsewhere as well, so that makes you two people that have to arrange themselves with this situation.”

“Jeong?” You raised a brow. “Isn’t his name Jung also?”

“Your fake name applies to the both of you of course. It’s a fine, but grave detail to his real one, also for easier spelling. Don’t ever use it in front of anyone though.”

You barely listened to him. “I don’t care. I don’t care about any of this.”

“I’m sorry this happened to you, really.” He sounded almost empathetic. Almost.

“Don’t be, I know that deep inside, you aren’t. You think you did a good job, detective. If you wouldn’t have sat on your asses all day long and laid out all my collected evidences properly instead, I wouldn’t even be here on this stupid plane, in this stupid country!”

“I already told you there is nothing that we can do anymore, Miss. Stalking cases, where the suspect hasn’t done any harm yet, are always hard to handle since not everything can be considered solid evidence. That’s the thing with social media.” He was tired of leading this conversation, but you weren’t, because you knew you were right. “Besides… The judge hasn’t even passed the sentence yet.”

“But they’re close, and we all know what the sentence will be, otherwise I wouldn’t be here! And it’s only because my father pays such a huge amount of money that you’re willing to get me into this program and away from him.” Your heart was full of hostility, and you let him feel every single bit of it. “Otherwise I would possibly be dead by tomorrow.”

“Again, I’m sorry this happened to you, Miss.”

“Screw your half-assed apologies! I’ve lost my trust in the police a long time ago!” you yelled at him. “You’d rather want a woman dead than get a stalker behind bars!”

And, once again, replied with, “I’m sorry, Miss.”

You didn’t want to hear any more of this, so you remained quiet for the rest of the landing approach and just bid an annoyed farewell to the detective when you disembarked the aircraft. By the exit, after you had picked up your luggage, you were welcomed by the announced driver.

“Hello, Mrs. Jung. I will accompany you to your new home,” he greeted you. “Welcome to Connecticut. Follow me please. Here, let me help you with your luggage.”

You tagged along with a distance of two steps until you got out of the airport and into his car. The ride distanced you from the airport and thus from the next city as well. While you were hoping to cross another town soon, no such thing happened.

“How far is it?” were the words you finally brought out after half an hour of driving. “It’s been quite a while and all I’m still seeing is… green.”

“Oh, it’s still an hour, Mrs. Jung.”

“An hour?” you squealed and sat straight up from the backseat. “Where are we driving to? Maine? This was Connecticut already, how far into the province are we going?”

“Where your persecutor won’t find you that easily, Mrs. Jung.”

You swore to god, if he called you “Mrs. Jung” again, in every sentence… But it was the first time someone used the word “persecutor”, and it kind of caught you off guard to have someone not talk down on your case.

You leaned back in your seat and closed your eyes to relax after such a long flight that also included a layover. It worked out a bit too well in the end though, sleep eventually engulfing you with the mundane sound of the car rolling over the road in the background.

You only woke up much later when the car had already come to a halt. At the outside, when you groggily opened your eyes, you saw two figures talking to each other in front of your side window. One of them was the driver who had brought you here, the other though, you could only make out the outlines of as he stood with his back turned to you, but it was definitely a much taller man.

“Couldn’t you have gotten someone else?” the unfamiliar man spoke.

“Since when do detectives in your position get to choose the person they will protect?” the driver asked back.

“It’s just… that she’s…” He faltered.

“A young dancer at the peak of her career?”

“Don’t go there.”

At that moment, he turned around to you and your eyes met. You didn’t know who was more shocked to see the other. So that was him, your “husband”. How dare he speak about you like that! As though you were happy over this situation!

Your eyes were wide open now and you aggressively unbuckled your seatbelt. Opening the door, you stepped outside, getting greeted by the driver right away.

“You’re awake, Mrs. Jung! May I introduce you to your husband Jaehyun? Around here, for better pronunciation, he’s known as Jay.”

The unfamiliar man, obviously going by the name of Jaehyun/Jay, said nothing to you, not even during the entire time your eye contact didn’t break. You felt him clearly examining you from head to toe though, but not in the way a guy checked out someone he was interested in.

No, he was eyeing you from head to toe like he was inspecting a piece of leftover meal that he was unsure of whether to still eat after finding it in the very back of his fridge seven days after preparing. He was full of disgust, and his off-putting behavior was masking how ridiculously good he looked at the same time.

In the end, he decided against the meal and shifted back to the driver. “She’s looking even gaudier than in the pictures.”

“Excuse me?!” You clenched your fists. “What do you mean?!”

But he ignored you. “She’s looking like a Christmas tree, drawing attention to her wherever she goes. So flamboyant.”

“This is called fashion! People in Seoul wear such outfits!” you retorted, upset that he was still treating you like you weren’t there and simultaneously insulting you.

The driver just patted his shoulder. “I’ll get going.”

When he had driven away, you were left alone with Jaehyun or Jay - if that was even his real name, but you supposed it wasn’t, a fake name like yours and your both’s surname most likely as well.

You stood there kind of awkwardly in the small driveway of the house you needed to call your new home from now on. Judging from the outside, admittedly, it looked like a cozy country style bungalow, spacious enough for two people and with no other houses in the immediate radius.

You would have liked it very much for a short vacation if you wouldn’t have to share it with a stranger who apparently didn’t have the hots for you anyway.

“Let’s go inside,” he barked with suppressed anger, and you wondered why he was already behaving so hostile towards you.

But at least, the feeling was mutual since he was a policeman as well. Starting from the day they had laughed at you when you called 911 shortly after the physical stalking had started, you had vowed to hate every single one of them.

When you stepped through the entry door, heaving the luggage up the stairs yourself, because Jaehyun was not gentleman enough to help you, you were positively surprised.

The interior was bright and modernly furnished. There was a huge kitchen, open to the living room that looked equally comfortable and cozy with a soft couch. Additionally, there was an entire wall filled with books only at the opposite of the window facade by the entrance.

“The bathroom is over there.” Jaehyun stood next to you and pointed with his finger to one of the two doors behind the kitchen. “And that is the bedroom. No worries, it’s all yours, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“You better do so,” you murmured and went straight to the bedroom, dragging your luggage behind you.

“You’re not allowed to go outside all alone. Either I accompany you or you ask for my permission and tell me exactly where you go and for how long.”

He spoke like a robot who had memorized an instruction, and who knew, perhaps he was even one. This already felt like jail. Whether you were here or at home, leaving either wouldn’t be safe for you. It didn’t make any difference except that you hated it here. And him.

Jaehyun cleared his throat. “I’ll prepare dinner.”

“I’m not hungry.”

You shut the door behind you and looked around in the room before you let yourself fall onto the huge bed and stared at the ceiling. Minutes later, you found yourself crying so hard like you had never cried before in your life.

Your entire body shook, and you sobbed so loudly, you feared that Jaehyun might hear it. But you actually didn’t care. You would gladly let him know that he wasn’t the only one feeling miserable in this situation you two were in, even though you voiced it differently.

Missing your parents, grandparents, friends and everyone else dear to you, you now realized that you were all alone. You hadn’t been allowed to keep your phone in case you’d be tracked down and thus weren’t allowed to get in touch with anyone from your former life either in case someone accidentally revealed your whereabouts.

Another part of you mourned the end of your career that you had been working so hard towards and that hadn’t even really started yet. This same part hated your father for putting you into this program, but loved him at the same time to go through these lengths to ensure your protection.

But the biggest part of you hated the man who had laid his eyes on you a year ago and vowed to never leave your side again in the most controversial ways.

The man who had ruined your life.

This was what he had wanted for you - cornered, shut off, frightened. When admiration turned into hatred, there was no space for happiness anymore. You had never felt more agonized. And lonely.

And with this feeling, after your sheets were all wet from too much crying, you slept in long after night had fallen.

____

The ringing doorbell woke you up, and judging by the misty light that flowed into the bedroom from the outside, it must not be past nine in the morning. You must have slept for over fourteen hours.

Opening your eyes in a slow manner, it took you a few moments to adjust to your surroundings. At first, you were happy to have woken up in your home again - until you realized it quite wasn’t and reality dawned on you, a dreadful feeling instantly weighing down on your heart that nearly caused you to bawl right there and then again.

You grabbed a pillow and put it over your face to drown out the noise that was coming from the door. If anything, it was Jaehyun’s responsibility to open it as he was closer to the source, and you weren’t even sure whether you were allowed to let strangers in.

But the string of constant noise just wouldn’t subside, and jet lag was hitting you hard.

“Goddammit!” you yelled in annoyance, jumped out of the bed and stormed into the living room.

But there was no sign of Jaehyun, the couch neatly made, so no one was even able to suspect that someone had slept on it the night before. You tiptoed to the window close by the entrance door to get a look at the person standing outside.

It was an old, asian woman with gray hair.

The moment she spotted you by the window, she quickly hurried over and excitedly signed you to open the door. In her hands, she presented a bag, dangling it in front of your vision. You neither had the time nor the patience to put up with her right now, but since she had spotted you already, there was no chance that you could still avoid her.

“Yes?”

You opened the door, not paying attention to your disheveled hair and the clothes from the day before. Whatever she wanted, you hoped that she would finish fast.

“My, my!” she called out in delight. “You must be Mrs. Jung, having arrived yesterday, right?”

You nodded, still not having adjusted to that name. At least you were fluent in English. “Yes, that’s me. May I help you?”

“I brought you a set of dumplings as a welcome gift. Here, take them. According to the villagers, they taste the best in my restaurant, Mrs. Jung. I’m sure they only say it because I’m running the only restaurant here, though.” She winked and then laughed as you took the package into your hands, slowly waking from your petrification. “Far away from your home country, I thought you needed something familiar, and food always manages to lift the mood, am I right? I must know, because when I immigrated here from Vietnam, I also felt lonely.”

This old woman’s surprising genuine gesture seemed so sweet to you though, you had to gulp big time to hold back your tears that were still present from before. Amidst a sea of turmoil, she radiated so much warmth and grandmotherly love, it made your chest tighten and soothed your pain at the same time, and you regretted your malign thoughts from earlier.

“Thank you so much,” you said wholeheartedly, softly.

“Grandmother Anh!” The two of you simultaneously spotted Jaehyun hurrying in your direction while crossing the front yard. “What are you doing here so early in the morning?”

“I wanted to drop by and bring you a set of dumplings as I remembered your wife must have arrived by now,” she explained and pointed at the bag in your hands. “Freshly made.”

“Thank you so much, grandmother Anh!” He wasn’t paying attention to you. “It wasn’t necessary for you to come all the way up there though!”

She waved aside. “A short trip up to here hasn’t hurt anyone yet, right?”

“You want to come inside for a cup of tea?” you offered her as you deemed it suitable for a situation like this despite not knowing whether you actually had tea. It earned you an angry gaze from Jaehyun though, and you wondered what you had done wrong.

“No worries, dear, I have work to go after now, and I’m sure you want to have some time to adjust yourself to your new living situation. Thank you for the invitation though. And don’t forget to step by my restaurant!”

When she was gone, you retreated to the inside, but as soon as the door closed behind you, Jaehyun threw a fit.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he yelled at you. “Oh, I know! You weren’t even thinking! Opening the door for someone you don’t know, even though you’re currently in a security program, are you nuts?!”

“Of course I’ve looked through the window before!” you shot back at him angrily. Stranger or husband, nobody was allowed to talk to you this way, and in contrast to the day prior, you had enough energy now to give him hell back. “If it was a suspicious looking man, I wouldn’t have let him in, but this was a nice grandma! My stalker is still in detention until the court decision, so he won’t come here so easily, and I doubt he has accomplices in the middle of the american nowhere when he’s just a simple korean man!”

“Listen up here, I’m trying to teach you a point,” Jaehyun pressed through gritted teeth, urging you to move backwards until your feet hit the baseboard and your back rested against the wall. “You know why you’re not allowed to use the phone or the internet? You log yourself into your social media account, congratulations, you just disclosed your location and he’ll appear here once he’s free. You call a friend while being connected to a local radio mast, congratulations, you’re now in danger again, because he’s hired a technician to track your steps. The same goes for people. One tells the other who they’ve seen here, words spread, someone knows someone who knows someone who knows him. Or one of them takes a picture, it lands on the internet, and things on the internet stay on the internet. It will then only be a matter of time until he comes across it. How do you know what he’s capable of? Because he’s ‘a simple korean man’? You’re smarter than this!” For the time he paused and inhaled deeply. “I’m here to prevent all this from happening, to prevent him from finding you, so you have to follow me. Since you’re not known by anyone yet, I have to run a background check, and we still have time to study our story so that they’re going to match. Until then, you’re gonna stay quiet and inside.”

“I didn’t ask you to be my protector!” you defended yourself, his closeness flustering you still. “No one from the police has ever helped me anyway, so stop acting like you care about my wellbeing!”

“Care about your wellbeing?” He revealed his pearl white teeth when he scoffed. “I don’t care about your wellbeing. It’s just that I want to get out of here as fast as possible and you’re just something that holds me back if I don’t take care of it. So you play by my rules or you go back now.”

“You-!” You swallowed the rest of the sentence.

With a slip to the side, you escaped from his fearful presence and crossed the living room in a hurry to lock yourself inside the bedroom again.

Only hours later, when hunger got the better of you, you dared to come out. The dumplings laid on the dining table where you had dropped them off earlier, and you couldn’t ignore the gurgling sounds your stomach was making anymore.

Jaehyun was sitting on the couch, typing something into his laptop and minding his own business without looking up to you. You were grateful for his ignorance as neither of you wanted to back off from your argument earlier, so you took half of the dumplings and retreated back into the bedroom from where you didn’t come out for the rest of the day.

At night, you cried yourself to sleep again.

____

“Let’s go grocery shopping.”

You were very much surprised when Jaehyun offered to take you on a short trip to the supermarket two days later. Yesterday, you had only been living off leftover dumplings and hadn’t felt any appetite, even until now. This was your very first interaction since the argument.

“I don’t want to,” you blocked it off.

“It’s weird and actually more suspicious when everyone now knows that you’ve already arrived, but don’t show yourself. We have to blend in, that’s how it works here in the countryside. And I have already done a background check on everyone, they’re clean. Besides…” He hesitated. “You should start eating properly.”

You didn’t care about his reasoning as you didn’t want to go out at all. Staying inside, hiding and being left alone sounded like the proper activity according to your mood, but Jaehyun wouldn’t budge, so you had no other choice than to finally dress up and accompany him against your will.

You hadn’t seen anything from the village except for your own house so far, so you got a bit excited when you finally stepped out onto the streets. The sun was shining brightly that morning, and it was kind of comfortably warm already for early spring.

When you did a 360 degree turn, you silently noted that the village was located on the slope of a hill, your house placed on the highest point and the other houses stretching a few hundred meters apart from each other along the main street and scattering into narrower ones.

The view and the location were splendid, you had to give credit for that. You weren’t the kind of person to seek this kind of tranquility as you were more a fan of a buzzing city, but somehow, you didn’t find it so bad here.

The houses were all so small and looked so cozy, embedded and blending in with nature, and the village overall was surrounded by trees and the greens of the connected grasslands that reached to the very top of the mountains.

“If we should come off as a couple, you have to stay by my side.”

You hadn’t noticed how Jaehyun had gone ahead already and quickly fell into his step. You were kind of grossed out by the idea that he would suddenly want to take your hand or do something else that young couples usually openly showed to prove their affection towards each other, so you kept your arms close to your body. But luckily, he didn’t seem to be fond of such a thing right now as well.

As you were walking down the street leading to the village center, Jaehyun told you, “I’ll be starting my work tomorrow. I’m a police officer here, so I’ll be gone for the majority of the day.”

“You work?”

“In contrast to you, I have to.”

“I see,” you noticed curtly. It wasn’t like you minded. No, you rejoiced even!

“But don’t get the wrong idea,” he reminded you as though he was reading your thoughts. “It doesn’t mean you can do what you want and go wherever you want.”

You rolled your eyes. “I understood the first time already.”

“Very well. We’re here,” he then declared when you stood in front of a store, not bigger than a 7/11.

“That’s it? That’s the grocery store?”

“Yeah. What did you expect anyway?”

Yeah, what exactly did you expect to discover in this small village? You sighed. “Let’s go inside.”

A high-pitched voice directly greeted you from the inside. “Mr. Jung! Is this your lovely wife? I can’t believe I finally get to see her! Welcome, Mrs. Jung!” A middle-aged man approached you from the counter, took both of your hands and shook them excitedly. “I’m Mr. Jones. Please help yourselves. You’ll find here everything that you need. My store might be small, but it’s rich in its ingredients.”

You felt Jaehyun’s stares in your back when you carefully greeted him back with a, “Nice to meet you, Mr. Jones” before you went back to his side like the obedient wife you were supposed to play.

Jaehyun was wandering through the small aisles and put one grocery after another into his shopping basket. From afar, he truly looked like a caring husband. But you knew better.

“What do we want to cook for dinner?” he asked nonchalantly, almost kindly.

For the first time, his voice wasn’t filled with anger or tension that you would also find in your own tone whenever you opened your mouth to speak to each other. In front of the people, you had to conceal your negative feelings towards each other.

“Hmm…” You looked through the shelves, Jaehyun tagging along. “I’m kind of craving fried rice.”

“I’d rather have steak.” He put the meat in the basket.

Of course he’d get what he wanted. But you didn’t want to back down either and bought the ingredients for your own cravings.

“Mrs. Jung, please make sure to step by again,” Mr. Jones told you when he packed your groceries. “We always have fresh fruits, you’ll love them!”

You nodded, totally not in the mood for smalltalk with strangers.

Back at home, you waited until Jaehyun had finished preparing his steak before you cooked your own dish. You ate in silence, him on the couch, you in the bedroom, both of you then cleaning after yourselves in silence, too.

And that slowly became your arranged routine. Silent and separate, yet still together physically.

____

You had spent the past days inside the house mostly, reading, watching TV and staring at the ceiling. At home, you barely had time for these trivial things as you were always practicing, even during your free time. But your free time now was endless, and simple leisure activities prevented you from falling back into this deep, black hole that engulfed you every night, luring out your tears.

You didn’t want to go out, you didn’t want to talk, you barely wanted to eat.

When you felt like this at home, you would just start dancing, but now, you didn’t even have that. Your life was dull after you had been ripped off your passion and your entire future. You didn’t know whether, if you’d ever return, you could catch up again.

At this point, you were asking yourself whether this life was actually worth living. But if you were to give up now, it only meant your stalker had succeeded. This was what he wanted, and you wouldn’t give him this.

As you were lying on the couch that evening again, staring into space, you heard Jaehyun coming home and immediately shot up to go back into your room. You wanted to spend as little time around him as possible.

But he didn’t let you go far. “Mr. Jones saw you in the driveway this morning as he drove by.”

“...And?”

“You know for sure that this isn’t allowed,” Jaehyun hissed sharply. “I prohibited it.”

“But why?” you genuinely wanted to know. “I was only catching some fresh air, nothing to fret about.”

He didn’t show any compassion. “If you want some fresh air, open a window, but, under no circumstances, are you allowed to leave the house when I’m not there. Think about what would have happened if it was someone else driving by, not Mr. Jones!”

“You’re totally nuts!” you yelled now. “And paranoid! That man doesn’t even know I’m here, so technically, I can roam around freely if I want to!”

“This is why I didn’t want you,” Jaehyun growled, his voice full of contempt. “The moment I saw you in the car, I knew what kind of person you would be. And I was proven right. You’re so reckless and neglecting in regard to your own life. On top of that, you’re so audacious as well, and I actually despise people like you. You didn’t even need this program, you’re only here because your father wanted to protect his little princess!”

You froze, and Jaehyun turned stiff in the same breath, your eye contact not breaking despite the interruption. Almost simultaneously, it became clear to you both what he had just said, and the extent of his hurtful words.

Jaehyun opened his lips, his eyes wide in shock. “I-”

The ringing doorbell broke through the distressing silence between the both of you and Jaehyun crossed the living room to hurry to the entrance door.

“Hello Mr. Jung!”

“Grandmother Anh, what a surprise!” he greeted her, still a bit overwhelmed, but trying to downplay the situation. “What brings you here?”

“I was wondering whether you and your wife already have plans for dinner and whether you are interested in joining me and a few other villagers at my restaurant this evening?” she asked politely, trying to get a glimpse of the inside.

“My wife is doing fine, only still adjusting. There is just so much work to still go after inside the house, so we barely have time at the moment. I’m afraid we have to decline.”

“That’s unfortunate,” the old woman commented. “But I still hope that you can make time this evening and join the dinner. We would be really pleased!”

“I’m going to ask her, alright?”

“Actually I wanted to ask her pers-…”

“Grandmother Anh?” you popped up behind Jaehyun and interjected. “I would happily join the dinner along with my husband! Thank you so much for the invitation!”

“Oh dear, I’m so glad! Then I’ll be going to prepare something nice for you two then, alright? See you later!”

When she was gone, you didn’t resume the topic from earlier, but instead said, “She probably heard it. She probably heard everything and was anxious about what was going on in here. Perhaps, she even thought we were physically fighting, so I had to show myself to let her see that everything is okay.”

“You could have just politely declined,” Jaehyun interposed.

“That’s not the point,” you explained calmly, walking around in the living room and pulling the curtains together. “The whole point of us being here is that we will pretend to be a happy couple, not drawing any suspicion on us. Doing grocery shopping every few days together just doesn’t do it. Didn’t you yourself say that words spread fast here?”

He didn’t want to concede it, but Jaehyun’s following words were his own gesture of acknowledging your believability. “So, what do you suggest we should do?”

Perhaps, he also realized at that moment, that he was missing something that you had been contributing from the very beginning: the ability to not only think rationally, but also compassionately.

And that sometimes, your reckless acts originated from this character trait of yours, being a person who relied mostly on emotions and urges. He opened his mouth to say something, but quickly closed it again.

“We’re going to show everyone how happy we are as a couple. That it was a usual lovers’ quarrel, that we don’t physically fight, and that you don’t keep me locked up or whatever. And since you’ll be there too, it’s safe. Satisfied?”

You weren’t fond of all that, of the thought of going out, meeting people and pretending you were living the happy life of a married couple. But you had no choice.

You didn’t admit this openly, but this was your only way to survive this hellhole and eventually return to your old life one day.

____

You were more anxious than excited to finally step out of the house again. When you stood in front of the restaurant later that evening, you barely brought yourself to crack a smile. How were you supposed to pretend to be happy when all you wanted was to cry?

“Stop.” Jaehyun held you back when you already wanted to enter through the front door. “Didn’t you forget something?”

You cursed inwardly, having hoped that he had forgotten about it. Why had you even mentioned such a thing as holding hands to prove the nature of your relationship? You would rather not, but you also saw that it was necessary to come off as a true couple and not two strangers who had just met. Even though the latter was true.

So you placed your hand in Jaehyun’s for the first time. It felt surprisingly warm and tender, and so different from the attitude he always showed you. How could someone so grouchy and cold have such tender and warm hands?

Jaehyun’s fingers enclosed around yours, and the unexpected feeling he caused you to experience currently didn’t have anything to do with the fear of getting touched by him. By far not. Not even something close to it.

You were so flustered that you barely noticed how he led you into the restaurant, right towards a large table on which a handful of people were already seated, and all their heads turned to you.

“Oh my, it’s the Jungs!”

You directly spotted grandmother Anh who approached you from behind the counter, taking your hands into hers and out of Jaehyun’s grip.

“Welcome! Dear, let me introduce you to the other villagers,” she addressed you. “Mr. Jones already told me that you two met, but these are…”

She proceeded to list four names that you forgot right after again, and you then took one of the two left free seats at the table along with Jaehyun while the old woman was bringing in one dish after another.

“Please help yourselves!” grandmother Anh then announced after she had sat down well. “Dig in!”

The entire table was filled with different dishes from the region, but also asian food. You felt your mouth watering after having lived off your humble cooking skills ever since your arrival.

“You see, this is a special restaurant,” grandmother Anh explained to you. “I’m not specialized on Asian or Western food. Basically, I can cook anything by order.”

“That’s true,” a middle aged woman next to you answered, Mr. Jones’ wife. “Mrs. Anh started off with an Asian restaurant, but since she’s running the only food place here, the requests started to pile up.”

You swallowed the last bite of delicious fried rice - your go to comfort food - before you responded, “No matter Asian or Western, your food is very delicious, grandmother Anh.”

“I’m so happy you like it, dear!” She smiled from ear to ear. “Hurry, eat up before all the others do!”

You nodded, and for the first time since you had gotten here, you didn’t only feel hunger, but also appetite as you reached for fried chicken, more fried rice, baked potatoes and steamed vegetables all at once.

When you were training - which was usually all the time - you hadn’t had the pleasure to eat such delightful food as you had to follow a very strict diet to remain your figure. Just a few grams more would have gotten you kicked out of every academy. Of course you stole a secret bite of fast food and sweet treats here and there, but tonight was the first time you could actually eat without compunction.

“... And you left everything behind for your husband, even your job?” Mrs. Jones casually dropped when the dinner slowed down and everyone was finishing off. “That’s so courageous!”

Before you had come here, you had studied both of the roles that had been assigned to you very thoroughly. Jaehyun was the cop who had found a new job here, and you, his wife, had followed from Korea to settle with him in rural Connecticut. That was the part of the script that bothered you the most as this was something you would never ever consider doing in the first place. Giving up your dreams for a man - they wished!

“The things women do for the love of their life, hm?” you only brought yourself to say reluctantly, dripping with hidden sarcasm.

“My husband also made us both move from Vietnam to here,” grandmother Anh clinked herself into your conversation. “He was always dreaming so big, dreaming about living the American dream. I wasn’t fond of the idea, but I was even less fond of living a life without him. So I followed him.”

“Where is your husband now?” it blurted out of you, and you regretted it right at that moment already when her face fell. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s alright, dear,” she brushed it off in understanding about your unawareness. “It’s been five years without him, and I still miss him dearly. With my experience, I can put myself in your shoes very well. You feel lonely and depressed very often, hm? A new country, new people, an entirely new environment, and a husband who’s not home for the majority of the day. It’s hard to adjust.”

Those feelings had nothing to do with Jaehyun, but with yourself only, so you confirmed them with a nod.

“How about you join our female poker round every wednesday?” Mrs. Jones then proposed. “It’s grandmother Anh, the girl sitting over there named Rosie, and me.”

When the girl heard her name, she briefly raised her head and smiled at you.

“Poker?” you asked carefully. “I’ve never played poker before.”

“You’ll learn it in no time!” Rosie encouraged you. “I’m pretty sure we aren’t playing it accurately either, but we’re having lots of fun and drinking lots of wine. You’ll love it!”

Poker with two elderly women and a girl around your age that you had barely interacted with before didn’t sound like your usual pastime activity back there in Korea. But at least there would be alcoholic drinks, and it would help you avoid this dark hole for a little while, you assumed.

“I’m afraid my wife might not be able to join,” Jaehyun then cut you off at the moment you wanted to excitedly accept their invitation. The three women looked at him in the same confused manner as you. “She’s really busy with work around the house and chores.”

“I’m sure I’ll be done by wednesday, that’s how fast but thorough I always work,” you affirmed to the women, avoiding Jaehyun. “So I’ll join you for sure.”

Jaehyun opened his mouth again, but it perhaps dawned on him that when he objected now, he’d look more like a husband mistreating his wife. The fact that he was known as a police officer didn’t affect the situation positively.

“Okay,” he then gave in. “I’ll let you ladies have fun.”

“Oh it’s going to be so fun!” Rosie exclaimed and clapped her hands together.

You were really looking forward to something now as well, for the first time since you had gotten here.

____

“Go, yell at me,” you provoked Jaehyun when you walked through the front door of your house after the dinner.

But he didn’t. Instead, he hung up his jacket, totally muted, put his phone on the kitchen counter and walked straight into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. Whatever, if he didn’t want to talk about it, then you didn’t need to talk about it either.

With dragging steps, you then moved over to the kitchen yourself to get something to drink before your eyes fell onto Jaehyun’s phone.

Your front teeth sank into your bottom lip as you stretched out your hand in the direction of the device. You knew it was wrong, you knew what consequences it would all bring, yet you couldn’t hold back. The temptation was too strong.

Your fingers glided swiftly over Jaehyun’s display as you typed the name of your stalker into the search bar. And the first article that popped up was the one reporting about his release.

Dated today. You knew it. You just knew it.

You cursed under your breath as you read through the comments that were almost all defaming him and the acquittal following everything he had done to you. When it had gotten public that a popular ballerina had been stalked, the media was quick to cover the story. Before, no one had cared about it.

The majority of people having your back in the comment section were only a drop in the bucket. But it still was soothing somehow.

When you went back to the search results, you found an article about you retiring from the Korea National Ballet. It wasn’t a big one, but had still gotten covered by a local newspaper after your absence from the performances had been noticed, and they were quick to link your decision with your stalker not getting a sentence because the state of evidence was too insufficient.

Your fingers trembled, because now, as soon as he picked up these news, he would start searching for you and carry out his threat that he had sent to your home through a letter a week before you had started your new life here,

I will come for you.

“You know for sure that this isn’t allowed,” Jaehyun scolded strictly next to you, and you flinched, nearly letting the phone drop before he snatched it out of your hands. “Didn’t I already tell you that with today’s technology, every time you go online, you leave traces? You want that? Having him here?”

“I didn’t log into any social media or anything,” you defended yourself. “I just… looked him up, and hundreds of other people pulled up that website also, so.”

“Even that is not-”

“He’s free,” you interrupted him, your breathing only coming in hitches as you realized what it meant for you. “As of today, he’s free again, and he’ll come for me. Like he wrote in that letter.”

You shut your eyes, ready to get yelled at, but Jaehyun didn’t say a word again. With the phone in his hand, he went into the bedroom - your room - and you followed him. You didn’t know what this meant. Had you gone too far tonight?

“What are you doing?”

He jerked something out of the closet, and at second glance, you recognized the thing in his hands as your suitcase which he then threw at your feet.

“Go pack. You’re going home.”

You blinked in confusion. “What?”

“If you don’t give a damn about your life, you don’t deserve to stay here. So you should go home.”

He was so cold and indifferent about it, it made you shudder. And that stare of his. You hadn’t seen it before. This was serious.

When you had first come here, you would have rejoiced and would have willingly accepted a flight ticket back. But with this knowledge, the thought about setting a foot on Korea’s grounds with your stalker on the loose raised your hackles. Then, this entire nightmare would start all over.

Hesitantly, you brought yourself to admit that this was where you were the safest now. On the other side of the world, by the side of a detective.

“Please…” you started.

“What am I supposed to say?” Jaehyun asked, overly annoyed, not breaking eye contact. “You defied my orders. Again. You think I didn’t know about this? I knew before you did, before the media did. It’s because of your reaction that I wasn’t supposed to say a word. Now look at what it has done to you! Will you ever get a good night’s sleep again?”

“I’m sorry!” You had never said that to him before, so this was a huge step for you. But you meant it. “I couldn’t resist. I had to know.”

“Of course you had to. You always have to meddle. Did something positive ever result from your meddlings? Perhaps, your meddlings have even brought this upon you!”

You stared at each other and Jaehyun’s face fell when it dawned on him what he had just said. Once again.

“You’re not better than any of them,” you hissed. “Yet, I’m not going anywhere.”

You picked up your suitcase and threw it back into the closet. When you turned around, Jaehyun had left your room already, so you quickly closed the door in case he would return and hid in the safety of your familiar four walls until the next morning.

____

When wednesday finally came around, you were still feeling some sort of anticipation that Jaehyun’s hurtful words hadn’t been able to entirely tear down. You had only interacted with him when it was truly necessary since the day he wanted to kick you out, otherwise avoiding him at all costs. At least, he hadn’t prohibited you from going today.

“Remember to only share the most necessary things about us,” Jaehyun repeated again as you walked along the streets to grandmother Anh’s restaurant. “And not more. Don’t invent anything, just dodge the topic. If someone wants to take a picture, prohibit it. But luckily, people here aren’t so obsessed with social media.”

“It’s so easy for an emotional klutz like you to say such things,” you grumbled. “But it’s something entirely different when people put pressure on you, especially when you’re in such a small group.”

“Whatever,” he shrugged it off. “Just dodge everything you can dodge.”

You rolled your eyes. You hadn’t wanted him to come with you, but one of his conditions was to still accompany you everywhere once you stepped outside of the house, so you had no choice but to walk with him all the way there.

“I’ll pick you up at ten, okay?” Jaehyun confirmed, and you nodded. “If something happens-”

“What should happen? We’re in the middle of nowhere and I’m just playing poker with the three less suspicious people on earth. Give it a rest already.”

“If something happens,” he continued unbothered, “or you start to feel uneasy… even if you only want me to pick you up no matter the reason, even if you’re only a few minutes away…” He reached his hand into his pocket. “Take this, just in case.”

He held up a black flip phone in front of you. One which you had only seen in action way back then in primary school, and which you deemed antique by now, because you were only able to send text messages and make calls with it. That kind of phone.

You took it into your hand and opened it up. The black and white display only showed one number when you pulled up the contacts list. You proceeded from the assumption that it was Jaehyun’s.

“It’s curbed, so you can only call me. Shortcut is one. The card has fifteen bucks on it, but I doubt you’ll spend it all unless we talk to each other for six hours straight. So don’t even think about calling someone you know from back home.”

Perhaps, a tiny part of him did care in the end. At least more than any policeman back there in Korea throughout the span of a year.

“Okay.” He cleared his throat. “See you later then. At ten.”

What you had wanted was an apology. But this was nearly just as good and his very own way of saying sorry, you saw that now.

Jaehyun turned his back to you and slowly walked back while you stored the phone away in your purse and entered the restaurant through the front door.

Not much later, you found yourself laughing among the other three women, having forgotten about your miserable situation for the evening as you hadn’t had so much fun in a long time already.

Poker had faded into the background and you were getting to know about the other women more than playing cards. And while you were talking, you emptied one bottle of wine after another.

“So tell me,” Rosie urged, “how did you and Jay meet? It’s so rare having such a young couple deciding to live with us so secludedly!”

“We’ve met when we were both still in university,” you revealed, having studied this part of your new identities very carefully so that your stories would match. Yet, you couldn’t help but to spice it up a bit. “Through mutual friends. We couldn’t actually stand each other at first. I hated his guts, and he hated mine. But we slowly warmed up, and the rest is history.”

“At first, I couldn’t quite read him as well,” Rosie admitted. “So I found his character very off-putting. But Jay is actually really warm-hearted and caring.”

No way she was talking about Jaehyun. You suppressed a laugh.

“That’s true!” Mrs. Jones nodded. “When he came into the hardware store earlier today, I was there too, talking to Mr. Alden. And he was searching every shelf high and low for an MP3 player. You know, one of these old things that you can only listen to music with which no one uses anymore. Mr. Alden didn’t have one of these of course, so he ordered it for him. He looked very stressed about it, but in a desperate and not angry way. More like a gift he needed promptly.”

An MP3 player? What would he need it for? In your world, your husband wasn’t capable of showing or even bearing feelings at all. Why was it then, that these people had a whole other picture of him?

“One time, at my father’s pharmacy,” Rosie added, “he asked what my father could recommend if someone suffered from a stomach ache. Apparently, his wife, so you, was in pain one night, and he wanted to be prepared for the next time this could occur. So, I would say you truly have a dedicated husband.”

You frowned. You had indeed suffered from a stomach ache one night, searching through the shelves and ending up making tea instead as you hadn’t found any medicine. That you had found it the next day, you had blamed it on your absent-mindedness.

“Mr. Jung surely has a warm heart despite his stoic demeanor. Otherwise he also wouldn’t have helped me when I had fallen on my back. That happened only last week. He carried me all the way to the doctor’s,” grandmother Anh continued.

There had truly been a day when Jaehyun had only come home much later than usual, and he was commonly very strict in keeping his routines. You hadn’t asked him about it though and had shrugged it off again. That was how indifferent you always were at home. Perhaps, you then realized, you should start doing exactly that: communicate.

You couldn’t continue living with a person you openly despised and didn’t care about. Jaehyun had said a few awful things to you, but the phone in your purse and what people were telling about him were proof enough to you that he was, indeed, different from the cops you had encountered until now.

Most likely, he wasn’t so awful and you had only failed to see. Jaehyun had given you a few second chances. Now, it was your turn to give him one.

“Why the long face?” Rosie pulled you out of your thoughts. “Let’s celebrate the start of your new life here! Grandmother Anh, I’m going to open another bottle, alright? The night is still young, cheers!”

You heard it pop for the second time.

____

You woke up the next morning with a headache. You didn’t know how you had gotten home or when, but the last time you had gotten so drunk, it was in the academy in the Netherlands. These village people’s alcohol tolerance was really on a whole other level!

A glimpse at your phone told you that it was midday already, and you suddenly were sitting up straight in your bed. But since you had no business anywhere anyway, you fell back against the mattress.

You then slowly drifted off to sleep again when the doorbell interrupted your nap. That was the downside of living in such a small village. People just came over whenever they wanted.

“Have you just woken up?” Rosie asked you.

A bit embarrassed, you scratched your head. “Maybe…”

“It’s been a tough way home, hm?” she laughed. “Jay also didn’t quite know what to do with you.”

“To do… with me?” you repeated with widened eyes.

“Oh my!” Rosie covered her opened mouth with her hand and giggled. “You can’t remember a thing?”

You shook your head. “Nothing.”

“You were so drunk after our fourth bottle of wine, you slept in right there and then. Jay had to carry you in a piggy back out of the restaurant and all the way home up here, and you didn’t even bat an eye.” She chuckled again. “And then, you only cried, ‘I wanna go home, I wanna go home!’ while he constantly replied, ‘You’re gonna be home soon’. And you said again, ‘But not this home!’”

“Holy!” you gasped. “I really can’t remember!”

Everyone knew about the drunken truth, and Jaehyun had also certainly known that you didn’t mean this home when you had said you wanted to return. If the alcohol had gone to your head much more, you would have probably revealed your true identity by accident! You suddenly felt so defeated. You had put yourself in danger. Again.

“Make sure to reward him properly for all the convenience with a nice meal or otherwise, okay?” Rosie winked and handed a paper bag over to you. “And start out by giving him these painkillers for his back pain. My father doesn’t recommend using it on a daily basis. Perhaps, change your mattress to a less soft one as they probably stem from that.”

“But our mattress is not soft,” you commented naively and accepted the painkillers when it suddenly crossed your mind that he didn’t even sleep on the bed. “It’s probably only because he naps on the couch so often,” you briefly corrected yourself. “I’ll have an eye on it.”

After Rosie said goodbye to you, you closed the entry door behind you and directly went into the bedroom to prepare something before Jaehyun came home.

When he eventually walked through the front door a bit later that day, he didn’t say a thing about the night before, but calmly took off his jacket and went to sit on the couch without greeting you.

Communicate. Your start. “Can you come to the bedroom real quick, please?”

Without a complaint, he arose again and followed you. When you opened the door, you presented a room to him with your clothes and other stuff all gone, the bedding freshly exchanged.

“This is your room from now on.”

Jaehyun blinked in irritation, and it was not the first time that you witnessed him turning so startled. You continued to take him aback. “I don’t understand…”

“I’m sorry,” you apologized to him quietly and bowed. “For having caused such havoc last night, being a burden to you again. When Rosie told me what happened because I can’t remember a thing, I realized that I put us both in danger again, now with my habit of drunkenly telling the truth. It wasn’t my indication to do so, and I will look after my alcohol consumption much better from now on. As I will do with everything else, of course. I will be obedient and follow the rules.”

He slowly turned around to you, his expression not quite distinctive enough for you to read. “Okay.”

“And because of your back pain, Rosie dropped by earlier with the painkillers. But I know it’s all because of me too. So, here, have the bedroom. It’ll be much better if you sleep on the bed as the mattress is not as soft. I’ll take the couch, I’ll be fine.”

You both stood there, quiet for a while. Until Jaehyun broke the silence himself. “There is a mattress.”

“What?”

“Here.” He crouched down, put his hands in the compartment under the bed and pulled out a small mattress that had been kept there apparently. “It’s too small for me, but for you, it should be fine. Let me carry it to the living room for you, okay?”

You smiled and nodded. “Thank you. And thank you for the stomach medicine as well.”

He opened his mouth to return something, but seemed to get too flustered and closed his lips again. It was familiar to you.

“I’m sorry too.” You turned keen-eared. What had he just said? Jaehyun’s ear tips turned red as he looked to the side. “I- I didn’t mean it. You’re not… you know.”

He didn’t elaborate what he referred to. But he didn’t need to. You knew what he had exactly apologized for, and accepted it. All the things, little and big. About you being a princess, about you always meddling. And about you having brought this upon yourself.

Your husband wasn’t a man of many words, but he had silently accepted your apology too by starting to sleep in the bedroom that night and leaving the new mattress to you.

You hadn’t been much of a great wife either, and you silently promised to him to be a better one from now on.

____

You were alone the next night, Jaehyun working overtime as one of his colleagues had spontaneously wanted to change shifts, so he had to take up on two in a row.

That was why, even by 1am, you still weren’t able to sleep. In your pajamas already though, you wandered up and down the living room, your thoughts swimming. You had kept the lights turned off as you went back to your mattress every now and then when you felt ready to finally fall asleep, only to fail once again.

You had gotten so used to having Jaehyun sleep in the room next to you that now that he was gone, you couldn’t fall asleep at all as you felt so defenseless. You were not paranoid about your stalker having gotten here, but with Jaehyun around, you had been able to fall asleep with more ease.

All by yourself though, you felt at your own fear’s mercy.

THUD

You froze on the spot. What in the hell was that?

You were currently facing the window, but the noise came from the other side of the closed door where the bedroom was located. Believing that your hearing might have fooled you, you held in your breath and listened closely.

Thud.

Again. This time, not that loudly, but it was clearly the same noise as before. You almost didn’t dare to make a move. It was in the middle of spring, the weather was warm and the moon was shining brightly. This was not the background noise of a thunderstorm.

Thud.

No, you hadn’t been fooled by your own hearing. There was definitely something going on in the bedroom that should not be going on, and Jaehyun was not here tonight! Restraining your breathing volume, you tiptoed to the kitchen area, hoping the parquet under your feet wouldn’t audibly give in.

THUD.

Louder. Your heart was racing, but you told yourself over and over again that you couldn’t afford losing your nerves now. Perhaps, it was an animal trying to get in, perhaps the wind pressing a branch against the glass, but perhaps also someone trying to break in.

It couldn’t be him.

… right?

He was still in Seoul, you had obediently followed Jaehyun’s rules, you had left no traces. There was no possibility that he could be here.

… right?

The faults you had made hadn’t been that grave. You were now obediently following the rules.

… right?

As your gaze fell upon the kitchen counter, you reached for the phone Jaehyun had given to you and dialed the shortcut. The phone was shaking in your trembling fingers as the display lightened up and you saw it trying to connect to Jaehyun.

But he didn’t pick up. You tried again and again. But he didn’t pick up even after the fifth attempt. You nearly wanted to cry. What was a police officer husband good for when he wouldn’t even come to rescue you?

Whatever, you didn’t need him anyway. You were a strong, independent woman, you would take matters in your own hand. Literally. So you grabbed the pan that was lying on the stove and headed for the bedroom door.

At this moment, you didn’t know what was louder. Your own heartbeat, your own breathing or the thudding that came from the bedroom. Perhaps, all at once, and the only thing that kept you going right now was the thought that you just didn’t want to die here, all alone, on the other side of the world, without having seen your friends and family again.

BAM.

“Hey!”

You flinched the second you stretched out your hand to press down the door handle as the lights suddenly turned on, and a sharp scream escaped your lips as you were sure your life was flashing before your eyes. The pan fell onto your feet, missing your toes by a hairbreadth, as a pair of strong arms wrapped around you from behind.

Then, you realized that you were crying as you twisted and turned, trying to escape. “Let me go! Let me go!”

“It’s me!” a familiar voice then came through to you. “It’s Jaehyun! It’s me!”

His voice, his scent. This all suddenly embraced you as it dawned on you that indeed, it was him. You had just not known what it was like to be held by him which had startled you so much as you had never had any physical contact before.

In his arms, your chest was still heaving up and down heavily, but he held you closely and tightly, with no intention to let you go now as tears continued to stream down your face.

“It’s okay,” you then heard Jaehyun whisper, his voice close to your ear. “I’m here now.”

He only let you go after you had stopped trembling and crying out loudly, and only reluctantly with a deep sigh from your part. You didn’t know where that had exactly come from though.

As you then turned around to him, you clenched your fists and hammered against his chest. “You idiot! Where have you been?!” you yelled at him. “I’ve called you five times, but you didn’t pick up! What do you have a cell phone for!”

Jaehyun didn’t hinder you from letting out your anger. Only when your strength was slowly subsiding as exhaustion settled, he enclosed your fingers and explained to you calmly, “I’m sorry. I didn’t hear it ring as I was in the car with my colleagues, and when I got out, I was already here and saw that you have called five times.”

“I- I… I heard,” you stuttered, but you didn’t quite know how to explain your situation. What if he would think you had only imagined it and didn’t take you seriously?

But Jaehyun did exactly that without you having to explain yourself. “My colleagues are currently searching the property high and low. I came here the moment I left the car.”

“I heard a thudding noise coming from the bedroom. As though… I don’t know. Someone was trying to get in. Through the window… I don’t know, there was definitely something!”

“Okay, let me check.”

You were hiding behind Jaehyun as he slowly pushed the door open and got in position. Then, he switched the lights on and you saw, as you peeked from behind him, exactly nothing. With slow steps, Jaehyun crossed the room and positioned himself in front of the closet. As he drew the door open, as expected again, you only found clothes inside of it.

“All clear inside here,” he then confirmed and approached the window to open it, calling outside, “What’s up out there?”

“All clear out here!” you heard someone yell in the distance.

“All clear in here as well!”

“You want us to stay put?”

Hesitantly, Jaehyun turned around to you, and then back to the window. “It’s okay, for tonight, I got this. Thank you.”

“Alright.”

Your teeth sank into your bottom lip as you stood by the door and felt embarrassment crawling up your cheeks. “I’m sorry. I was so sure…”

“Don’t ever apologize for such things,” Jaehyun cut you off, and you faced him with insecure eyes. “You were scared, and your feelings are valid. Nothing else matters.”

The majority of people would have brushed it off. But Jaehyun had taken you seriously the moment he saw you all alone, so scared.

Only later that night, when you were ready for bed again, it sank into you that this was probably what the other women had talked about when the topic revolved around Jaehyun last week. Finally, even for only a short moment, he had shown you this part of him as well.

“Where is my mattress?” you then asked when you came out of the bathroom.

“In the bedroom,” Jaehyun deadpanned. “Come.”

You raised a brow, but willingly followed him to the bedroom where you found your mattress lying next to the bed.

“Tonight, you can stay here. Just…” You heard him gulp. “... just… in case you feel unsafe and scared again.”

He made it sound like you had requested for it, which you surely hadn’t, and you both knew. It was Jaehyun’s manner of offering you some kind of security and solace, just because he wanted to, not because you had asked for it.

“Thank you.”

“And next time when I have the day off, I’m going to show you how to shoot with a gun.”

“... what?”

For the first time since you had come here, you didn’t cry yourself to sleep. You didn’t know whether it was because of the shock that was still lingering or because of someone else sleeping right next to you, even though not on the same bed.

“Jaehyun?”

“... Hm?”

You had your back turned to the side of the bed and were facing the wall from your small mattress, eyes wide open while listening to Jaehyun fiddling with the blanket just two feet away from you.

If you had faced him at this moment, you didn’t know if you would still have said what you were about to say.

“I take it back. You’re better than all of them combined.”

He knew what you meant, and despite his missing audible answer, you were sure he had gratefully acknowledged it.

When Jaehyun’s breathing rhythm became quieter and more regular, you could finally relax as well, a foreign nervousness falling off your shoulders and letting you drift off to sleep shortly after.

You felt so safe like never in your life before.

____

“What exactly happened with that man, if I may ask?”

You were standing in the backyard, Jaehyun getting the gun prepared while you watched him.

“I thought you had all the background info about me before I got here already?”

“Not the details. I only know about a guy who’s stalked a popular ballerina in Seoul. She dragged him to court, but the judge decided that the evidence was too insufficient and that he’d most likely get free. Since the ballerina claimed he had threatened her again, she was put in this program voluntarily.”

“I didn’t claim that he threatened me,” you disagreed. “He sent a letter. With a death threat. To my home. But the judge said it cannot be proven that it’s from him.”

“I only told you what I heard.”

Yet, he had still taken your fears from the night before seriously. You wondered whether, if Jaehyun had been responsible for your case back there in Seoul, you would still be here now.

“It started with a simple bouquet of roses after every performance shortly after I joined the Korea National Ballet a year ago,” you started. “I just returned from the Netherlands and it was my first engagement as a professional ballerina. At first, I found it flattering to already have such a dedicated fan. He’s a man in his early thirties, neat, groomed and very polite. Until he made his intentions clear and I rejected his advances. That’s when he stopped being polite.”

“That’s where it usually starts,” Jaehyun noted.

You nodded. “Admiration turned into obsession with bouquets that got even bigger and more pompous. With letters that claimed his unconditional love for me. With presents that I’m too embarrassed to talk about. Then, obsession turned into harassment. With phone calls from different numbers over one hundred times a day. With a date’s car tires all slashed. With fake online profiles of mine where manipulated nudes popped up. Back then, I still thought I could handle this all by myself. I’m a grown up woman. I’m responsible for myself.”

“When did it change?” Jaehyun questioned. “When did you report everything to the police?”

“When I started getting texts like ‘Better pull the curtains together when you sleep’ right after I went to bed and ‘Home sweet home’ with a picture of me entering my apartment building. I never disclosed my home address to anyone.”

Jaehyun was lost for words.

“And what did the police do? Nothing. Because they had too little conception of such things, they told me. The guy never signed his gifts, never showed up physically again as well. Presents, calls and letters aren’t a crime. And they didn’t take the phone calls as well as texts seriously enough to track the source as they claimed they wouldn't be able to do it.”

“I’m sorry.” Jaehyun released the gun’s safety catch, and you heard it in his voice that, in comparison to the detective from the plane, he was sincere about it. “There are detectives who care and detectives who don’t care. After all, we’re all normal people. But they were clearly people who didn't care enough.”

“I’m not alone with this situation. There was a case where the stalker waited under the girl’s bed. Another one waited in her roommate’s closet. Another one waited for her right on the streets. And they all ended up dead. I don’t want to join them. I’m only lucky to be here, because my father had the money to. These other girls weren't so lucky. But I want to be lucky and strong for all the girls who couldn’t be and can’t be in the future.”

“What do you mean?”

“I will come back home,” you responded determinedly. “I will come back home and get him imprisoned. This time, forever.”

“I haven’t encountered a woman like you until now,” Jaehyun concluded after some beats of silence passed by in which his gaze didn’t divert from yours.

You furrowed. “Like me?”

He nodded and held up the gun. “So fearless.”

You took it as a compliment and smiled. You hadn’t heard such kind words out of his mouth until now. But then again, this was the first proper conversation you two shared since you lived together.

“Here.” Jaehyun showed you how to properly hold the weapon. “Make sure this finger is here and this one here. Right now, it’s not locked anymore. If you pull the trigger…”

“... it will shoot.”

“Yes. Here, let me lock it again and then try releasing the safety catch yourself.”

You took the gun from his hand after he was done and placed it in your own palms. Positioning your fingers where Jaehyun had shown you, you weren’t able to get it right on the first attempt.

“Your index finger must be here.” Jaehyun touched it and moved it around. “And your thumb… right. Here. But a bit lower for a better grip.” He gently motioned this finger down as well.

Where you had loathed his touches before, you still minded them. But oddly, not in the same, negative way. No, better say in a way that made you wish he would have his fingers placed on yours for a little bit longer and one that made you crave for more than these little touches.

“You wanna know how to aim at your target?”

Excitedly, you nodded and heard Jaehyun chuckle. For the first time, very genuinely. It was like last night had broken the ice between you two that should have melted weeks ago already.

“Hello? Someone home? It’s me, Rosie!”

“Quick.” Jaehyun took the gun from your hands and hid it behind his back.

“We’re outside!” you called out and saw Rosie turning around the corner a moment later.

“Hey you two! What a beautiful sunday, right? I hope next week, the weather will be just as beautiful, because then… drum roll please… we’re going to hold our annual spring festival!” She lifted up her hand and presented a few colorful flyers to you. “Please come, okay? There will be boots, an animal competition and a stage for karaoke!”

Immediately, you were hooked. “Of course!” But then, it crossed your mind that you were only allowed to go outside with Jaehyun’s confirmation and instantly fell back into silence, unsure whether to face him.

“You two have fun together. I have volunteered to patrol that day, so I’ll be kind of there anyway.”

Jaehyun had indeed given you indirect permission!

“Oh, it’s going to be so cool, trust me!” Rosie clapped her hands. “Okay, I’m going to inform the next house! I’m telling you, the people coming into the village center less than you are the Schmidts! See you next week at the latest, alright? And you, we’ll be seeing each other tomorrow at poker, okay?”

You hadn’t known that you were invited again, that you had gotten welcomed with open arms and accepted into this community. But it made you very happy, and you nodded.

“Of course. See you tomorrow.”

Later that day, Jaehyun placed a small object on the table that you hadn’t seen in quite a while. Since primary school, to be exact.

“This is for you.”

“What’s this?” you asked, even though the answer was quite clear.

You were sleeping in the living room again, but somehow, since the night you had spent by Jaehyun’s side, you felt a bit more lonely than before. You weren’t crying yourself to sleep at all anymore, yet the feeling of loneliness still lingered.

And it was not the kind of loneliness that made you long to hear a family member’s voice, it was more than that. This, you were sure of.

“An MP3 player,” Jaehyun announced and crinkled up his nose. “I figured, if you were to spend your time here with no connection to the outside world aside from the TV, you might as well spend it with your passion.” He placed a pair of earphones next to the device. “You can use it to listen to music only or to dance. Just as you please.”

You looked at Jaehyun, and saw it clearly now. With the person who had made you feel so unwelcome the day you had landed in this unfamiliar country, he had nothing in common anymore.

This was not only a side of him, this was him.

The man Mrs. Jones had talked about who had searched the shelves high and low for exactly this device. The man Rosie saw buying stomach medicine and the one who had helped grandmother Anh when she had fallen.

This man had finally shown himself to you too in all his aspects.

You didn’t know what had made Jaehyun accept you for who you were to him, but somewhere along the way, he had settled with this arrangement.

And you were getting adjusted to your new life as well, you realized as your features softened.

“Thank you.”

____

When the day of the festival finally came around, you stood with Rosie in front of grandmother Anh’s booth and tasted her dumplings together.

“My dear girls, you need to try these too! I experimented with another filling, so please give me feedback.”

The old woman shifted another plate in your direction, but you and Rosie waved aside in unison.

“Granny, we’re so stuffed already!” Rosie said. “And you don’t even want us to pay! Leave these for your actual paying guests.”

“Alright, alright! But I’ll make them for our next poker night! And then, you’ll tell me how they taste!”

“Okay!” you agreed. “We’re going to Mrs. Jones’ booth now, grandmother Anh. See you later!”

Linked with Rosie’s arm, you made your way through different booths, passing by people from neighboring villages as well as the stage, until you reached Mrs. Jones at the other side of the festival ground.

“Hello my favorite girls!” she greeted you cheerily. “Look what I have! A cotton candy machine! You can each have one for free!”

“Are you sure you can operate this?” Rosie skeptically raised a brow. “When people serve these, they look so professional, but you haven’t ever used one before, or am I wrong?”

“That’s not true!” the woman whined playfully. “Don’t be so rude, Rosalind Richards, or I’ll have a talk with your father!”

“Guess I’m not one of her favorite girls anymore!” Rosie whispered to you, and you chuckled while Mrs. Jones prepared the cotton candy for each of you.

In the end, the outcome wasn’t even that bad, she only needed to practice a bit more. With the cotton candies in each of your hands, you and Rosie walked over to watch the animal competition.

People had brought their dogs and walked with them up the stage where they demonstrated different tricks. You and your friend were standing there for the entire time, eating your cotton candy and watching the dogs show off what they had practiced for. When the competition was over, you rode a few rounds on the small ferris wheel and visited the other booths, only finishing your tour when the sun was already setting.

Your last stop was a shooting gallery where you met Jaehyun overlooking the situation. He had been here since the morning, so you assumed he was off duty now as he wasn’t in his uniform anymore, standing at the sidelines, joking with another colleague.

You had never seen him effortlessly interacting with other people in daily situations before, and for the first time, you perceived him as the normal man that he was outside of your fake marriage. Casually standing there, talking, laughing. A normal man whose dark hair was blowing in the wind, his sleeves rolled up, his arms folded in front of his chest.

A perfectly normal man who was also very attractive.

As his head slowly moved to the side, your gazes met, and you gulped, somehow embarrassed that you had gotten caught, although it was only natural to look at your partner.

Jaehyun was a man you could have easily felt attracted to if you had met under normal circumstances, not as your fake husband and your taciturn protector.

You had only failed to see clearly until this day.

“Oh look, it’s your husband Jay!” Rosie then finally noticed as well. “Let’s go over to them!”

A smile spread across Jaehyun’s face and he lifted his hand to wave at you. When you approached his group though, he got called over to the booth and took a rifle in his hand. Apparently, he had lined up to shoot.

“Oh let’s watch him!” Rosie urged.

“Jay is our best shooter,” one of his colleagues said proudly. “Look closely.”

He was leaning over the booth’s counter, his rolled up sleeves revealing his muscular arms and veiny hands. His entire body was tensed up, every single nerve concentrated on bringing down the targets. The air was almost static due to the tension as even other people stopped to watch.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Before you could even process what had happened, Jaehyun had shot down all three targets at the first go, and the spectators were rejoicing.

“Wow!” Rosie exclaimed. “What was that? I couldn’t even follow the happenings!”

Indeed! You watched Jaehyun giving back the rifle and having presented the prizes in the back of the booth which offered everything, from giant plushies, different toys to knick-knacks. Knowing Jaehyun, he would probably take a pass on that, so you were quite surprised when he chose something from the knick-knacks.

You couldn’t see what it exactly was, but as he shifted around to you, Jaehyun approached you with a keychain dangling between his fingers. It was a yellow elephant that wore a red tie. It looked hella ridiculous and childish - but not to you.

Stretching out his hand, Jaehyun held it out to you, and you were stunned, not exactly knowing where to turn your attention to: the gift or Jaehyun who looked at you with a gaze you had never seen on him before.

As you didn’t move, you felt Rosie’s elbow poking into your back, pulling you back to reality. No, you shouldn’t behave like a dumbfounded twelve-year-old, this was officially your husband after all!

So you raised your hand and took the keychain between your fingers. It was a plush knick-knack that probably wasn’t valuable at all. But Jaehyun had chosen this one among everything he had been offered to give it to you. And you would treasure it dearly.

You smiled. “Thank you.”

“It’s late. Let’s go home?”

You nodded and said goodbye to Rosie before you followed Jaehyun across the festival ground. You had trouble keeping up with his steps among all these people, so Jaehyun did what every other good husband would do: he reached for your hand and kept it in his until you had left the premises.

That was only for the show in front of all these people, you kept telling yourself the entire time. You had to prove to them that you were a happily married couple, and such couples did things like these.

The keychain, which you had attached to your purse, dangled with each step you took as you raised your voice, “Jaehyun…”

“Hm?”

“Why are you here?” you wanted to know. “You know my story, but what about yours? Is this your department?”

You spent every day alongside this man, yet knew nothing about the true him. At first, you hadn’t cared either. But the more time you spent by his side, the more it irked you that he was still such an enigma.

You thought he’d stonewall, but he gave you a clear answer, “I’m the NYPD, as a matter of fact.”

“Oh, I see. New York, hm.” You nodded. “And… why are you here?”

The way his fingers cramped up around yours made you freeze despite having to keep up with his pace while walking. You had hit a sensitive nerve, you immediately became aware of that.

“I’m sor-”

“You really want to know?” he asked back.

“Yeah.” You shrugged.

“I did something a good detective should have never done.”

And with this sentence, he wasn’t about to tell you more. He didn’t need to express this, you were able to read the atmosphere. But that only kept your thoughts spinning. What was something so terrible that a detective could do that got him transferred to another area of responsibility?

You didn’t believe that Jaehyun was a bad person.

He was cold at times, but an entirely cold person wouldn’t have let you sleep on the bed while they were enduring back problems. He was grumpy at times, but an entirely grumpy person wouldn’t have warmed up to the point of letting a smile slip every now and then. He pretended not to care at times, but a person who entirely didn’t care wouldn’t make sure that the people around them would be well and healthy.

He was crude at times, but an entirely crude person wouldn’t have held your hand until you were home.

____

“What are you doing?” Jaehyun asked you when he came home from work that day and found you sitting at the edge of the bathtub with the bathroom’s door wide open.

“Dyeing my hair.”

“Pink? Red?” he asked.

“Magenta. It was quite an adventure until I had the base, but I think I’m there now,” you explained while you stirred the color in the small bowl in your palm. A huge amount had already been put on your head.

“Isn’t it too…” He stopped.

“Too flamboyant?” You intentionally used the word he had described you with the first time you had met. “Probably. But, just in case someone will ever make a connection between me and the ballerina from Seoul, they will dismiss the thought immediately since my English is almost flawless and my hair doesn’t match the color.”

Jaehyun seemed to ponder about it, but then confirmed your way of thinking. “I think you’re right.”

“Besides…” You smiled mildly. “Ever since I was little, I was never allowed to alter my appearance. A ballerina has to look perfect where perfect means we all have to look the same. Same hair, same makeup, same figure. It’s kind of nice to try something new after all this time.”

“Okay.” Jaehyun held up a plastic bag. “Grandmother Anh gave me these dumplings when I dropped by her restaurant today. I’ll prepare them for dinner, okay?”

“Alright!”

“Hurry up, they’ll be done in a few.”

“Got it.”

You quickly finished dyeing your hair and wrapped it all up with a shower cap before you went to the dinner table where Jaehyun had not only prepared the dumplings, but also different side dishes such as rice and vegetables.

You hadn’t known that he was such a good cook, but thinking back, Jaehyun had always prepared more extravagant dishes in comparison to you who just threw rice and vegetables together. In fact, you had never quite learned how to cook.

This was the first time that you and Jaehyun ate dinner together and the first time that he had cooked for you, too.

“You look ridiculous,” he commented while he scooped rice on each of your plates. But was this a chuckle that had accompanied his voice?

“It’s not quite done yet. Wait until it’s washed out and dried. I’ll be the only pink-haired ballerina walking on this earth!”

You threw your hands in the air, almost tipping over a bowl, but you didn’t mind. Somehow, this was a very good feeling - to finally make your own decisions for your own body, your own appearance. It was only a minor change, but to you, it felt like you could conquer the world.

“Enjoy the meal!” you announced and then dug in.

By the first bite you could tell that Jaehyun was not only a good cook, but an exceptionally good cook. This, you also told him, which turned him all flustered. He then asked about your day to which you answered that you had thought of finally picking up dancing again after much struggle.

“Why did you struggle?”

You lowered your head. “Because the last time I danced, it only brought me misery.”

You were at your last bite, but suddenly didn’t feel like finishing anymore. Before, you had felt something like easiness, even happiness almost for quite a constant while. Now, your thoughts got thrown back to your stalker who was roaming around in freedom.

“If it’s your passion, you shouldn’t lose sight of it. Because you don’t know whether you will still be able to enjoy it whenever you want in your future.”

You didn’t know what he meant with that, but he wasn’t keen on explaining either as he gathered your plates and brought them over to the sink the moment after.

It was the first evening in a long while that you peacefully enjoyed without a burdened heart. You wouldn’t mind this becoming your routine.

Later that evening, when you had washed out the dye and dried your hair, you hid in the backyard of your house where no one could see you with earplugs in and the MP3 player attached to your body, picking up some ballet moves again.

Sheltered from the whole outside world, you tried to let the fact sink in that you were safe here and that no one would come to make your life miserable after a performance. Here, you could actually be at peace again.

And then, you danced until it turned dark.

When you returned to the inside, Jaehyun had accidentally fallen asleep on the couch with a book on his chest. On tip-toes, you sneaked up to him and wanted to take the book out of his hand to put a blanket over him when something suddenly urged you to halt.

The first two buttons of his white shirt were open, and right there, between the first and second one, you spotted a scar.

Of course. A detective always went hand-in-hand with danger. He was your husband, you saw him every day, yet this was the first time that you noticed this visible mark on his chest. How many more dangers had he encountered so far? How many more bullets had he caught during his young career? You knew nothing about it.

You stretched out your hand, determined to touch the spot, but snapped out of your trance-like state just before you laid your fingers on him. In your head, you scolded yourself. What in the hell were you thinking, behaving like such a creep?

You tried to calm yourself down when suddenly, Jaehyun’s hand snatched forward and wrapped around your wrist before you could even blink. You got bent forward over the backrest with his other arm then enclosed around your neck, his eyes full with surprise as he brought your face close to his.

“You’re so beautiful.” Barely a whisper from him.

You stared at each other for a moment in near disbelief, and you didn’t know where the ground and where the ceiling was anymore as everything around you seemed to rotate. Your whole body felt so hot as though you were suffering from a fever, but your heart beating out of its usual rhythm told you that the reason for your body reacting this way was nowhere near something rational things could explain.

A part of you wanted to break free, another part wanted to look into his soft eyes just a bit longer.

“It’s you!” With a sigh of relief, Jaehyun let go of you and fell back down on the couch. “I wasn’t able to recognize you at first because of your new hair! I thought it was a thief or something!”

“Ha.” You couldn’t even explain the sounds coming out of your mouth anymore, and thus decided to remain quiet about it. “I’ll go take a shower.”

“Okay. I’ll go to bed then. Good night.”

When the door fell close behind you, you leaned against the bathroom’s tiles, trying to calm yourself down once again. But even when you placed your palms on your cheeks a few minutes later, you were still hot all over.

Staring at your face in the mirror over the sink, you gritted your teeth, having tried to fight against this feeling for so long. But looking at your reflection, you came to the realization that this was the expression of someone who had lost this fight a long time ago.

You had never wanted this to happen, because you wanted a way out of this fake marriage someday.

Now, it seemed like the exit door was blocked by your own feelings.

____

“Can I tell you something?” Rosie asked you the next time you gathered to play poker. “Because you’re my friend now, I want to be honest with you.”

Mrs. Jones was currently giving out the cards, and while you collected them, you nodded. “Go ahead. Is it my hair? You’ve been staring at it forever. I like it though.”

“I love the color, but it obviously looks like you did it yourself. Why didn’t you call me? I could have helped!”

“I’m sorry, it was an urge, I’m very impulsive. So, what is it then?”

“To be honest, in the beginning, you and Jay didn’t quite radiate the happiness of newlyweds to me. You were so distant and cold towards each other,” Rosie laid out her first impression. “I thought it was because of the cultural difference. I know from grandmother Anh that in Asia, public display of affection is not very common and you both immigrated from there. But it was like…” She halted. “Like you were strangers. Not familiar with each other at all. As though you had just met.”

You didn’t know how to properly react to this revelation, and Rosie wanted to apologize right away before grandmother Anh stepped in to support her, “I second that. You tried so hard to conceal it and pretended to be a happy couple, but my old eyes can see beyond that. When he bought the music player for you though… I knew that something had entirely changed between you two.”

Between you two?

You had only assumed that for you things had changed since the day of the festival. When he had looked a little too good that day. When he had smiled a little too genuine. When he had held your hand a little too long.

But never for him either.

“Everything has changed,” grandmother Anh continued. “You look so in love, just like when my late husband was courting me back then.”

You pressed your lips together to a fine line and you tried so hard not to blush, but to no avail as you looked into everyone’s eyes and encountered a smug grin from each side.

No, you were wrong. The day of the festival was the day you had assumed first, admitting it to yourself the day you had picked up ballet again. But something had changed for you before all that. Slowly, continuously. And it was still in process.

“See?” Rosie teased. “This is how Jay looked as well when I told him exactly the same!”

“Quit joking,” you replied briefly, but your voice only came out as a whisper while the hotness wandered further to the very tips of your ears. “You’re giving out cards now or what?”

“Let me tell you something!” Mrs. Jones now meddled too, not wanting to be left out. “After so many years of marriage, I haven’t seen my husband getting so stressed about buying a gift for me, not even on my birthday!”

But you hadn’t even talked to each other regularly back then when Jaehyun was looking for the MP3 player for you.

It just didn’t make sense to you.

Or were you just in denial because it couldn’t actually be possible? After everything that had happened between you two, Jaehyun had grown fond of you from the very beginning already, even before you?

“Oh dear, why are you making such a face?” Grandmother Anh sounded worried as your hands still laid on the table, not touching the cards you had been given while everyone else had already picked up theirs. “Are you not feeling well?”

You were certainly not feeling well. Your stomach had turned upside down, and you suddenly felt like you couldn’t breathe, on the verge of a collapse. While it had become so obvious to everyone around you, you had been left in the dark this entire time.

“I need to get fresh air.”

You arose, pushing the chair under you away with your legs and hurried to the entrance door before you thought you were going to run out of air entirely now. But even the outside didn’t make a difference, and you were supporting your arms against the wall while breathing in and out heavily.

After a while, you heard the entrance door open and close again, and judging by the shoes that you could see from your position, Rosie had followed you to the outside.

“I called Jaehyun to pick you up.”

“What?!” Your eyes widened and you felt your stomach turn. In your hot ears, you heard it ringing while simultaneously, your loud heartbeats tried to steal the show. “I’m all fine!”

“Yeah,” she chuckled. “But I thought you’d rather want to be with your husband today than with us, and this is a good excuse to leave the round. Just pretend to be a little dizzy.”

“Rosie!” you called her out while the next moment, you heard fast footsteps approaching in your direction. “I’m not coming to your birthday barbecue anymore next week!”

“I know you’re lying.” She winked.

“Are you okay?!” Jaehyun came to a halt in front of you, totally out of breath and beads of sweat visible on his forehead. He only needed a brief moment to take a breather before he faced you, his features drawn with apprehension, his eyes mirroring pure concern.

The next moment, his palms were on your cheeks, and he gasped, feeling your heat burning against his skin.

“You’re all glowing and hot!” Jaehyun stated in shock. “Do you have a fever?”

“I-I’m… I’m all fine!” you tried to brush it off, but his hands cupping your face possibly made it only worse as you felt like melting from within.

“Jay, you need to take her home, okay?” Rosie persuaded him. “The gathering is over. Have a good night!”

With these words, she turned around and closed the door behind her, leaving you alone with Jaehyun. Despite having been alone with him so often already, with all this new knowledge, everything was different now.

You were jittery and all nervous around him, having problems looking into his eyes, and he noticed of course - but for all the wrong reasons.

“Come, we’re going home! You’re sleeping in the bed tonight, no questions asked. I’ll get a few more blankets so you’ll have it all warm in case you’re catching a fever. Tomorrow, you’ll be doing fine again, no worry. It’s probably the change in weather since it’s been unusually hot these past days for spring.”

You hadn’t ever seen him so talkative and openly expressing worry, and it somehow took you by surprise. Goosebumps raised all over your arm as Jaehyun’s hand slid down your side and his fingers intertwined with yours.

There were no other people aside from you out here at this hour, there was no need to pretend being a couple - yet, he held your hand as you walked all the way up to your house in silence.

It didn’t feel real to you.

But the night sky was your witness.

____

A few days later, long after nighttime had fallen, you were lying on your mattress, still wide awake like the nights before.

You hadn’t noticed until now, but your life wasn’t so dull anymore. You weren’t on the verge of depression anymore in contrast to the first month in your new home. You had made new friends, had picked up your passion for ballet again, trained during daytime, and spent the evenings with Jaehyun, cooking, eating and then watching a movie or taking a stroll on the hill behind your house together.

It was an entire different life from the one you had lived back at home in Seoul, but nothing you enjoyed less. No, which you enjoyed even more, if you said so yourself.

A warm feeling embraced you every time the clock approached the hour your husband would return home, and even though you saw each other every day, it was like seeing him for the first time, your heart almost jumping out of your chest whenever he walked through the door, greeting you with a smile.

You were able to clearly name that feeling now that made you so excited, you were barely able to sleep at night while Jaehyun was lying in the room next to you, sleeping peacefully.

Or… could he not either?

There were noises coming from the bedroom. You sat straight up on your mattress, feeling a rush of hotness wash over you with your heart beating out of its usual rhythm. Flipping the blanket over, your naked feet touched the wooden floor, but you didn’t bother slipping into your shoes.

You tiptoed to the bedroom to make sure that your ears hadn’t misled you, but you swore you could hear him walking up and down in there as well. With a trembling hand, you placed your fingers on the handle, but before you could even think about how in the hell you could explain what you were doing in front of Jaehyun’s bedroom in the middle of the night, only dressed in your light pajamas, the door suddenly opened from the other side.

Jaehyun was just as shocked to see you as you were shocked to see him. You wanted to stutter something about sleepwalking, but as you made eye contact, you realized that he wasn’t expecting an explanation from you.

He wasn’t expecting anything as he closed the last remaining gap between you two, his hands cupping your face again, this time to pull you against his chest.

And as his lips met yours, you now were assured that he had lied awake every night like you as well.

____

With hasty movements, Jaehyun unbuttoned your pajama top all while not letting his lips slip from yours, his fingers rather fumbling, but knowing exactly and precisely what they were doing and the carelessness most likely stemming from pent-up anticipation, because he was finally getting what he had wanted all along:

You.

You felt him smiling into the next kiss that came rather sloppy in his hurry as your shirt glided from your shoulders, the palpable traces along your skin getting replaced by Jaehyun’s fingers that drew down the same path in a feathery-light manner.

He was holding himself back until it almost hurt, you felt it as his fingers’ grips were first tight, then froze and softened lastly. But you didn’t want him to hold back. You had both been holding back for way too long already.

Both of your hands slung around Jaehyun’s neck as you deepened the kiss until it almost became hard for you to breathe, that was how wildly and hungrily you were craving for each other. With a little jump, you also hooked your legs around his waist, feeling him supporting you instinctively from the bottom with a strong grip.

You moved from the door frame to the bed where Jaehyun seated himself down and placed you on his lap, but you had no intention of moving away as your fingers vanished under his shirt and pulled it over his head in one swift motion.

But Jaehyun’s lips didn’t find their way back to your mouth. Instead, they traveled down the side of your neck, eliciting a moan from you in the process, and stopped by the raising of your breasts. You threw your head back, your nails digging into the flesh of his shoulders, leaving red marks as he took your nipple between his lips.

Sucking sounds mixed with the audible rhythm of your heavy breathing, thwarted by suppressed squeals whenever he bit into it, pulling it between his teeth and teasing you until you couldn’t take it anymore. So Jaehyun then wrapped his arms around you and flipped you both around.

“You have no idea for how long I’ve been holding back,” he told you with an expression on his face that you had never encountered before as he was hovering over you.

Lust, desire, and so much… passion.

Yes, you for sure had had no idea. But you luckily did now.

Strands of your red hair had gotten disheveled, partially disturbing your view, and he brushed them off, smiling. For a short while, you shared a moment of loving understanding, and your heart thumbed so fast against your chest, you were scared he was going to hear it.

There was a distinct feeling growing inside of you that didn’t want to admit. That you couldn’t confess, not even to yourself. Because you knew, this was only temporary.

“Then show me,” you challenged him.

“Very well.”

His grin widened, revealing his teeth even in the semi-darkness when his mouth came back down on yours, his hands roaming across almost every single inch of your body as though he wanted to keep a map of your body in his mind. As though he shared the exact same thought with you:

That this was not permanent, struggling with holding himself back to prolong the experience and going through with the act as fast as possible because he had been looking forward to it for so long already.

Jaehyun’s lips left yours, passing by your neck and tracing down to your stomach where he placed butterfly kisses around your navel, and you shuddered from the soft touches that you had been missing out on for a very long time already.

Your hands disappeared in the thickness of his hair as his lips further approached your nether regions, and you gave him credit for still being so patient when release was so close as it made you almost go crazy in contrast.

Tender warmth covered your core, the fabric of your pajama bottoms being the only barrier between the two of you, and you craved for nothing more than to feel his tongue inside you right now, feel how it dipped into your wetness, his mouth doing the same as he had done to your breasts before.

But Jaehyun’s patience had reached its limit. There was nothing left of it anymore.

After several moments of internal conflict, Jaehyun decided to not withhold anymore and to go for it instead. At the end, he had the entire night, and he would make use of every single second he had left.

The mattress gave in under you when he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your pajama bottoms after he had removed his own boxers, the feeling of his weight then carefully pressing back down on you, now the both of you entirely naked. It felt so surreal to you as you locked your gazes, and you needed a moment to process this situation, to let the fact sink in that this was indeed real.

Then, as though he had just done the same, Jaehyun eased between your thighs and started to enter you. The night was still so long, but it felt like he didn’t want to lose any time, and neither did you. You hadn’t noticed how wet you had gotten throughout the foreplay which had made his entrance so easy, almost imperceptible.

Your pupils rolled to the ceiling as he adjusted and you finally felt him inside you fully. You couldn’t quite remember the last man you had been intimate with, even though it had happened only shortly before moving here, but somehow, Jaehyun had clouded your memories of every other man in your life who wasn’t him at this point.

As a matter of fact, on the contrary, you now knew that you had never desired another man this much. Every fiber of your body was longing for him so badly that despite him being right here, it ached so much not to have him even closer. And that wasn’t even physically possible.

“What’s wrong?” Jaehyun asked suddenly, having noticed your conflicted expression and coming to a halt.

You shook your head. No, nothing was wrong. Everything was perfect, it was almost unbelievable.

“I-... I…” You were so overwhelmed by your feelings, the words nearly slipped carelessly out of your mouth. Luckily, for you though, you were able to swallow all of them. Instead, you said, “I’m just so happy.”

The corners of Jaehyun’s lips tilted up, and he took this moment of sweetness to tenderly peck your lips and confess, “Me too. I’m happy too.”

Soft moans fell from your lips as he started moving inside of you again. His motions were deliberate and powerful, and you enjoyed every single thrust of his. Jaehyun was so excited, but put you first still, and you appreciated that.

There were times, his thrusts seemed insatiable as he rammed into you nearly in a trance, seeking for his release, but despite you enjoying these rough phases very much as well, he always calmed down and feeded you with slow, sensual pushes that put you on the verge of being delighted and desperately wanting more.

His lips were wet and warm against your lips when his hips got a rest on top of yours, and you were quick to hook your ankles around his waist when he picked up his pace for the nth time, but this time being the last that would finally bring the long awaited release, you both knew at that moment.

Jaehyun’s chest glistened with a paper thin layer of sweat, and your eyes wandered along his neck to his face where you watched him in awe changing his features to a more tensed one, working towards your orgasms. Your fingers slithered up his arms that were propped up to the left and right of yours, and you held tightly onto him, breaking your eye contact to not let his hard work go to waste and concentrate on yourself.

You bit into his arm as you came, and he let out a groan, whether it was because of your bite or because of him reaching his own heights as he released into the sheets next to you, you didn’t know. But at that moment, as you slipped out of this world for a few seconds, you wished that you could have this for the rest of your life.

Especially for - no, because of - what followed after.

Your grumpy and always stoic husband rolled onto the space next to you to take a rest, a smile spreading across his face that just wouldn’t vanish anymore as he turned his head aside and looked at you. And you genuinely felt the same.

Instinctively, you moved over to him, and he stretched out his arms to pull you onto his chest where you laid yourself down. You didn’t say anything for a long time until you felt him pressing his lips on your forehead.

Now, you truly felt like you had arrived at home.

There, it was so warm, and so comfortable that you wanted to stay forever.

____

Rosie’s birthday barbecue took place the next day where the festival had been held weeks prior. If anything, you knew by now that her father, the pharmacist and major apparently, technically built this village. Aside from the pharmacy, he owned several other stores here.

Unfortunately, you had come all by yourself.

Jaehyun had left early in the morning already, rudely awakened by a call from his supervisor, so you weren’t able to fully concentrate on celebrating Rosie’s big day right now as you wished, but for reasons that couldn’t wipe that grin from your face.

Your thoughts revolved around Jaehyun as well as around what had happened the night before - several times in different positions as though he had feared he was running out of time to do all this to you.

This morning, you had woken up with your limbs entangled and strands of your hair in his face, but he hadn’t complained. Instead, after getting the call, he had pulled you closer to him, lying in bed with you a few minutes more and even kissing you goodbye when he had walked out of the door.

You flushed when you recalled the memories.

“My, my! What’s that?” Rosie called you out as she took the seat next to you. “What’re you blushing for? Long night with your husband?”

“Rosie!” you called out indignantly, totally shocked, but she only laughed.

“Come on, nobody heard! Lucky you!”

You shook your head and shifted a small box in your friend’s direction. “Open it.”

“What are you doing?” Rosie feigned upset. “I told you to not get me anything!”

“Well, the gift shopping area in this village is very limited, but I didn’t want to come empty-handed.”

You could tell Rosie was very excited as her fingers fiddled with the ribbon that held the gift wrap together. As she untied it, a small, flat box was revealed.

“It’s not much, but where I come from, these are very trendy now, and I’m more of a personal gift giver than buying something random. My husband had to order them from the internet, but the rest was made by me. I hope you like it.”

Rosie stilled her motions. “Did you just say ‘my husband’?”

Did you? You gasped nearly inaudibly. You had never referred to him like this before, and truth to be told, you hadn’t even intended to do so now. It had just slipped somehow.

Your friend giggled. “Your husband always refers to you as ‘my wife’, and I found it odd that you hadn’t until now. Perhaps, it took you longer to get used to it, right?”

“...Right.” You kneaded your fingers in uncertainty.

“Are you kidding?!” Rosie then squealed as she opened her gift fully and pulled out a pearl bracelet. “It’s so cute!”

It was made of freshwater pearls in different colors that you had beaded yourself with all the colors Rosie liked the best. You had never seen her wearing jewelry, so she apparently didn’t want to bother taking them on and off.

“It’s an elastic band, so you don’t have to close and open it every morning. You can wear it all the time or take it off and put it on easily.”

Rosie pulled it over her hand and held her wrist against the sunlight. “Such pretty colors! Thank you so much! I will cherish this all my life! It’s a token of our friendship!”

She cuddled you a little bit too tight for your liking, but you didn’t mind. You hadn’t seen such an openly pure reaction to your gifts ever when you had given presents to your friends or family all along. And they had been more expensive and impressive than what you had given to Rosie.

Here, life was much easier. People seemed to be content and satisfied with the little things life had to offer, that was why they had chosen to stay in the countryside. You admired this mindset as people in the big city always thrived to achieve more and to be better than everyone else.

You wanted to be more like Rosie and the villagers.

“Okay, let’s eat now! The meat is ready!”

You really wanted to enjoy the barbecue, and more often than not, you earnestly did. But watching Mr. and Mrs. Jones' banter-like but loving interactions, along with many other married and dating couples, made you long for something which you had never expected to be missing.

“What is it, dear?” Grandmother Anh then asked you as most of the people were slowly finishing their meals and moved on to play with the children or to talk with each other. “You look so somber.”

You, among only a handful of other guests who were still eating, had remained in their seats. Next to you, there was an extra plate with food that hadn’t been touched yet.

“Grandmother Anh…” You turned to her, your eyes expressing exactly what was going on inside of you. “Is it possible to miss someone so much, your heart hurts even though you had only been together in the morning?”

Because that was how you were feeling now. You wanted to be around Jaehyun all day, all night, not missing out on his presence even a single moment. Where you had loathed his existence before, it was all you could think about now and how you’d probably die of a heartache if he was ever gone.

You had never experienced something close to this.

“Oh dear…” Grandmother Anh squeezed your arm and smiled compassionately. “I miss my husband starting from the moment I open my eyes in the morning. And I even felt like that when he was still with me. We weren’t separated for a single day, and I know that even now, he’s with me.”

Because they loved each other wholeheartedly. You couldn’t say the same about what Jaehyun felt for you.

“But why are you so upset right now, dear?” she asked you. “He’s here now.”

“... what?”

You looked up and spotted Jaehyun walking down the street in your direction. You suppressed the urge to blink a few times in case this wasn’t real. But grandmother Anh had just said so, and he would be standing right in front of you not too long from now.

Suddenly, you were all nervous and excited like a child on the first day of school. Jumping out of your chair, hitting the table’s edge in the process and flushing to your cheeks, you didn’t quite know what to do at first. You wanted to run towards him and jump into the safety of his arms like this morning, but were too shy to do so.

What if he rejected you?

What if last night and this morning were an exception?

What if he had returned to being the reserved and taciturn Jaehyun from the beginning?

These were thoughts that were running through your head when you were standing there awkwardly to welcome him.

“I…” you then started when he stopped right in front of you, his mien not quite expressive enough for you to read. “I saved you some meat and potato salad.”

You didn’t know what you were saying, you were only trying to downplay this awkwardness that had weighed down the lighthearted atmosphere of the party as Jaehyun also clearly didn’t know how to behave after your intimate encounters.

“Are there n-”

But your words got stuck in your throat as Jaehyun stretched out his arms and cupped your glowing cheeks with his palms. It was almost magical how instantly, you were able to calm down. Then, he pulled you towards him, covering your lips with his as though he had been waiting all day only to do that.

As he kissed you there, in front of everyone, chastely, but also deeply, you knew that this wasn’t an act. This was not staged for the villagers to believe that you were a truly married couple.

This was honest. His feelings were real.

“God, I’ve wanted to do that all day,” he admitted, tucking a strand of your hair that had gotten loose behind your hair. “I thought time would never pass.”

And you were on the same page.

You were still on the same page when the front door of your house closed behind you later that evening and Jaehyun shoved you against the door, devouring all of you with an open mouth and his tongue, his fingers locked with yours in a tight grip, pinned against the wall above your head.

You were still on the same page when he bent you over the kitchen counter, not even showing the slightest patience by undressing you clothing for clothing as he just dragged your pants down and pushed into you from behind with a long-suppressed groan that made you scream in excitement.

You were still on the same page when you laid your palms flat on the surface in the illusion of getting support, moving along his length to meet his thrusts whenever he pulled out to just slam back into you full-force, because you couldn’t take being apart from him for even a second.

You were still on the same page when you were shaking from past-orgasm spasm, his cum dripping down your hips as he had released on your back, and he carried you on his hands to the bedroom with the words,

“I’m not done yet.”

It was raw.

And it was real.

____

For the fifth morning in a row, you woke up next to Jaehyun. And every time, it still felt so surreal to you that you wanted to give yourself a pinch to make sure this was real. But whenever you turned to his side, his arms tightly wrapped around you, and looked into his eyes that were so sincere and clear, you didn’t mind if this was a dream after all if only you wouldn’t wake up from it.

But today, his expression was clouded, and you could tell something was bothering him gravely that he couldn’t let go of.

“What is it?” you asked him, barely awake yet, but irritated that he wasn’t cuddling with you as usual. “Did something happen?”

It was odd. The fact that you could live with a person for so long and still know nothing about them. That was what Jaehyun told you the next moment.

“What do you mean?”

“That you don’t know my biggest secret yet. And that it might make you hate me.”

You feared that your whole world would teeter under your feet the further he spoke about what he had to confess to you. At this point, you loved him so much, you didn’t know what could possibly make you hate him. After all, he was a detective, and one of the good ones.

The last thing he would have done was kill an innocent person.

… right?

Jaehyun’s struggles were almost palpable for you as he inhaled and exhaled deeply, the muscles on his chest straining and never seeming to relax anymore as he withdrew into a deep hole of silence.

Minutes passed without him crawling out of it, and you sat up yourself, leaning against the headboard while Jaehyun was leaning forward, not facing each other. You wanted to hug him from the back to give him comfort, but also sensed that this would only restrain him from crossing over the final line he was so close to reaching.

And he really wanted to pass it.

“I could never hate you,” you told him. “I l-...” You gulped. “You’re a good person. What would ever make me hate you?”

“Not even knowing that I ruined someone’s life?”

There it was. The elephant in the room that rendered you totally motionless and emotionless. Ruining someone’s life was a wide term and could come in many shapes and forms, each that had a different impact on the victim, and the culprit.

You desperately wanted to know Jaehyun’s dimension, and you knew he desperately, finally wanted to tell you.

“Explain to me. Has it got something to do with the scar on your chest?”

“Yes. As a detective, my job is to protect the victims. But I failed to do so once when I purposely hurt them.”

“How so?”

Jaehyun bent further forward, and you perceived how he lifted his hands to ruffle his hair in aggravation before he continued, “Last week, at Rosie’s birthday party when I got called to my supervisor, I told you it was about my case.”

You nodded. You hadn’t pushed the topic, because if Jaehyun had wanted to talk, he would have come forward. And now, it was apparently the time.

“This case has brought me here to this witness protection program. I’m clearing my name and serving my sentence, because I hurt a victim. The trial is long finished since the victim decided not to press charges, but hurting a hostage is not seen as a peccadillo among the police nonetheless. After I got suspended for a few months, I got sent here to prove myself again while working in another unit and eventually return to the NYPD.”

You had a hard time processing what Jaehyun tried to get into your head. Inwardly, you were repeating every single syllable until they settled.

“I ruined a life. That hostage, a woman… I shot at her,” he pressed bitterly through gritted teeth. “There, you have it. The reason to hate me.”

Your brow arched. “I don’t quite understand. Why did you shoot at a hostage?”

Being nosy was one of your characteristics, but the best part of it was that you never judged a situation before you got all the details, and you hadn’t collected enough details to waive Jaehyun’s action as something bad yet.

“The kidnapper was holding her hostage with a gun pointed at her head.”

It was difficult for Jaehyun to speak about this situation, you could tell from the way he expressed himself, with hitches and deep breathers in between, but you gave him all the time he needed.

You lifted your hand and touched his back in a reassuring gesture, scared he would shy away, but still wanted to try. Instead of retreating, you felt his muscles relaxing under your palm, and you exhaled in relief, letting him know you were there for emotional support, no matter what was to come.

And what was about to come was really hard to digest.

“Instead of shooting at the kidnapper, I shot at the hostage’s leg. Of course I didn’t want to hurt her on purpose, but at this moment, it was the best thing that I could do. I could see it in his eyes. He really wanted to pull the trigger, that was how ruthless and brutal he was. As soon as I would shoot at him, he would shoot at her. So I had to do the last thing a policeman is supposed to do, and aimed at the hostage instead.”

Your forehead was in creases. You couldn’t grasp the entire situation as it sounded just so absurd to you. As a ballerina in the spotlight, you had never gotten in touch with this dark side of the world.

But Jaehyun was a good person. So good, that he omitted the entire story from you.

“You shot at the hostage, because an injured hostage is useless to the culprit,” it suddenly became clear to you. “You’re not a bad person, Jaehyun. That’s very courageous. And honorable as you did everything to save the hostage.”

His shoulders shook, and you were irritated whether he was laughing or crying. Until you noticed that his shaking was actually trembling, and that he was uttering indistinct sounds. Only moments later, you realized that he was, indeed, silently crying.

You just weren’t sure whether these were tears of guilt or tears of relief for finally coming clear with you.

“The scar… it’s from a bullet, right? Did he shoot directly at you after that? Is that how you got it?”

“Even if, at the moment I pulled the trigger, he let go of the culprit and shot at me, I didn’t save her life.”

You felt a tight knot in your stomach. “Jaehyun… that woman… is she still alive?”

It didn’t sound like she didn’t survive the entire incident, but you wanted to hear it from him. Almost instinctively, he nodded with much hesitation, and relief washed over you.

“But at what cost?” he broke through your thoughts. “That woman… one of her legs was rendered useless. I hit der at such an unfortunate spot-”

“But she still has her life,” you interfered. “And you risked your own life for her. You were ready to die for a victim. But she’s still alive, and you as well. That’s all that matters.”

“All that matters? Here’s the thing you’ll hate me for…” He sucked in a rush of air. “She was a professional ballerina. Just like you.”

You didn’t know what to say. Perhaps, it was best to not say anything at all now.

For a ballerina to lose the ability to use even one of her legs was the most unfortunate thing that could happen. All your life, you were trained to rely on your legs. They were your pillars that carried your passion, your career. You were dependent on your legs. You hadn’t learned how to use anything else to get through life.

You leaned forward and replaced the palm of your hand on his back with both of your arms. Gentle, you snuggled up against him and held him in your arms, resting your head in the crook of his neck and closing your eyes, listening to his silent cries.

“Jaehyun. Still. You didn’t ruin a life.”

Everything happening in the past weeks suddenly made so much sense to you. Why Jaehyun had been behaving so hostile upon seeing you for the first time, why he hadn’t wanted you to think so lowly about your safety, why he had wanted you to pick up your passion again, why he had bought you the MP3 player…

“You saved hers.”

Reluctantly, he placed his arms over yours. You really felt his insecurity, but your support was unwavering, and you let him know.

“And you saved yours as well. No lives were lost. You’re a good detective.”

At that moment, you assumed that you were the first person he actually opened up to. And the first person who actually truly understood his deepest feelings.

“Thank you.”

Jaehyun turned to you and kissed you. It tasted of tears and despair.

And a bit of wishful thinking.

____

“I’m still in therapy because of it,” Jaehyun spoke the day after when he was ready to pick up the topic again. “Well, when I’m in New York, I mean.”

It was constantly warm outside nowadays, you two sitting on the slope of the hill behind your house, and you couldn’t wait to finally embrace summer fully in this part of the world where you had never experienced this season before.

Your hair was glowing in the bright sunlight. Jaehyun liked to compare it to a pink rose when you woke up in the mornings and he ran his fingers through the strands.

“That’s good,” you coaxed him, showing full support ever since his confession. “I think it’s always good to speak with a professional about traumatic experiences. They will never go away at some point, but we all have to learn to live with them.”

You stood by your opinion that Jaehyun had had no other choice and actually had made the right decision in this situation. You respected him for that, and you had learned that the hostage, who had attended the trial of course, thought so as well as she had voiced during the process.

It was only the inner demons Jaehyun was fighting now, and you would help him get every single one of them caged.

“It’s odd.”

“What is?”

You stretched yourself, enjoying the warmth. “The fact that I know about your most traumatic experience, but not even where you were born.”

“I was born in Seoul, as a matter of fact,” he clarified instantly.

“The city where I live?” you called out in surprise.

Jaehyun nodded. “I lived there with my mom until I graduated from high school. Then I went to New York because my dad has been working there, and pursued a career as a policeman.”

You pulled grass between your fingers, the mild breeze playing with the tips of your hair strands. “Why did you want to join the police?”

“I’m good at solving cases. And I really want to help people, but didn’t have the patience to go to med school.” Jaehyun looked up, smiling softly against the wind. “Why did you take up ballet classes?”

Yeah… why? You shrugged. “It was something I was passionate about ever since I was a little child.” Your reasoning was not as extensive and detailed as his, but for you, it had always been enough.

And for Jaehyun as well. He turned his head against the sky and basked in the sun. “That’s great. Anything else you want to know?”

“Fair enough, since you knew every fact about me before I even set foot in this country. Do you have siblings?” you jumped at the chance.

“No.”

“Favorite food?”

“Nothing specific. I like anything.”

“A country you’d like to visit one day?”

“Japan.”

“A country you have visited and is your favorite?”

He smiles. “I’ve only been to South Korea and here, so… Here.”

“Can you imagine going back there though?” you then asked. “To Seoul, I mean.”

“Absolutely not.”

You didn’t know why his answer hurt you. Disappointment seeped deep into your heart at the realization that your real home and his real home were separated by an entire ocean if you were ever to go back.

“Do you miss your home?” Jaehyun then returned.

Did you still?

You weren’t so sure about that anymore. You missed your family and your friends, as a matter of fact, and not a day passed in which you didn’t think about them. But not as much and as hurtful as in the beginning where tears had kept you up all night. Your sadness had stepped back, making space for a feeling that was much greater.

But you didn’t want to tell him that.

“Yeah, I do.”

Jaehyun shifted his head back to you. “I can imagine that.”

He kissed you then, right at your favorite spot in the entire village, his fingers entangled in your rosy hair. You felt so happy, yet so regretful as you hadn’t had any memory of a moment where you had been at such a high in your life back there in Seoul.

There, you had everything. The spotlight, your family and your friends. But despite everything, right here and now was where your heart was going to burst because you didn’t know how much bliss it could still grasp.

There were so many more questions you wanted to still ask him.

How his life back there in New York was. How he imagined life when this was all over. Whether he had someone he held dear back home.

But you swallowed all of them down. You were scared of the answers.

You didn’t need to know every little detail about a person’s life to fall in love with them. All it took was to know how they treated others, how they treated you and their outlook on life, nothing more.

Not even their real name.

The rest would fall into place.

Deep down, you had accepted your new life with every aspect it offered itself to you, and whenever you thought about the village and its people, a certain warmth enclosed your heart that nearly made you teary-eyed.

You didn’t want to leave anymore. That was now clear to you.

____

Call it intuition. Gut feeling. A woman’s instinct.

Whatever it was called that you were experiencing that day, it would be right. Your whole world crashed when Jaehyun walked through the door after work that day.

“You have to leave,” were his first words as soon as he spotted you. “Now.”

“... what?”

With widened eyes, you watched the sweat drops on his forehead slowly rolling along his temples. Had he run all the way here? And why did he seem so anxious as though he was trying to uphold a friend? You had never seen him like this.

“Go pack your things. You have five minutes.”

“Jaehyun…” You stood up from the couch. “I don’t understand, only last wee-”

“It’s all settled,” he interjected calmly but curtly. “The day I got called to my supervisor, you remember? They told me I was free to return to the NYPD. My job here is done as they finally found someone else for you. I can go back home, to my old life.”

“That means…?” You halted. You wanted to cover your ears. You didn’t want to hear.

But Jaehyun broke the hard truth down for you. “You’ll be moved to another city, get assigned another fake husband, exactly. The driver will be here in a few.”

You were flabbergasted at how factual his way of delivering the news to you was. “You only stayed with me to deal with your bad conscience, right? Because I’m a ballerina as well, and for protecting me, you would pay your debt? Now that the time is over, you want to get rid of me?”

Of course you hoped he would deny everything you had just accused him of. But he didn’t. This was like a nightmare.

“This program works like that,” Jaehyun explained to you like you were some twelve year old, with much repulsion written all over his face. “You move from one city to another, from one husband to another. You brought this upon yourself.”

Here was the deal with anger. You didn’t feel how it got implanted into you. You couldn’t feel it grow and feed on your pain. Suddenly, it was there, and you didn’t have any control over it until, from one moment to another, it made itself aware verbally and physically.

You wanted to scream, grab for the nearest vase nearby and throw it against the wall, yelling at him how much of an asshole he could be, leading you on this entire time. But sometimes, people were stronger than anger.

And so were you.

He had never led you on. You had always been aware of the rules. He didn’t owe you anything.

“Is that all?” you only brought out dryly, the vowels stuck in your throat.

You didn’t want to cry, you didn’t owe him a single tear in return, not a single word anymore, because you had known all along that this was about to come eventually.

This… all this wasn’t real. This wasn’t your life. And the next one wouldn’t be your real life either.

You didn’t know what your next fake home and fake husband would be like. You didn’t know for how long they’d stay this time. All you knew was that you didn’t want them. You didn’t want anyone else other than Jaehyun.

“That’s all.”

But he didn’t want you anymore.

You just wondered how he could stand there, as stoic and taciturn and as cold as when you had first met.

What had happened to the Jaehyun that woke up next to you every morning, playing with your hair, snuggling up against you and kissing the nape of your neck? The Jaehyun that showed you a different side every night, making you feel so special and loved? The Jaehyun that had let you into his deepest secrets?

Perhaps, he was just so good at his job. No wonder they wanted him back in the NYPD.

Your fingers grabbed just whatever piece of clothing they could find, regardless of whether you had picked up everything that belonged to you or not.

When you rolled your suitcase to the door a few minutes later, you had digested the first waves of shock and were only barely able to hold back your tears. You had expected that the end would come in little steps, with signs that would indicate the last days were approaching, giving you time to adjust, prepare and linger around.

Now, it was like ripping off a band aid.

As you turned away from him, who had not moved since, tears were burning behind your eyes, but you didn’t want to lose your dignity in front of him. You wanted to defy him again, show him that you were just as strong as him and that it all didn’t bother you. That you had only played the role of a wife so perfectly, you had not only fooled the ones around you, but him as well - just as he had done with you.

But in contrast to Jaehyun, for you, it had meant everything to the point you had wished that this was your real life.

This, you couldn’t lie to yourself about. And it was the thing that hurt the most.

When the car pulled up the next moment, you expected Jaehyun to still say something to you, but he just stood there, with an expressionless face, watching you getting into the vehicle. Your eye contact didn’t break, even though you wished so. You just couldn’t tear your gaze away from him as you still hoped that he would raise his voice and beg you to stay.

And you would have.

But he didn’t.

When the car reverted, he just stood there. When you drove along the main street, he just stood there. Even when you were almost out of his sight, he just stood there.

“You’re going to Phoenix this time, Miss!” the driver, the same as from your first day, told you, looking through the rear mirror. “I’m sure you’ll like it there!”

No, you wouldn’t.

This was the most miserable day of your life, and still in the car, you broke down in tears.

You would have given everything to sit down with Rosie, grandmother Anh and Mrs. Jones just once again, playing cards and drinking wine. You would have given everything to go shopping with Rosie and hear her lighthearted laughter again. You would have given everything to eat grandmother Anh’s dumplings and get her advice again.

You would have given everything to just spend another day in the village, appreciating what you had had and saying goodbye to everyone.

But even this, he had pried out of your hands, rendering you so defenseless and vulnerable.

You hated him.

And whenever your gaze fell upon the key chain of the yellow elephant wearing a red tie on your purse, you cried even harder, wanting to rip it off and throw it out of the window.

But no matter how much you wanted to hate him and talk yourself into it, you couldn’t bring yourself to truly feel so.

You didn’t care about your old life anymore. You didn’t care whether you could never go back. You didn’t care about your career, about your future.

You were willing to give all of this up forever just to spend another day in the life that had been such an illusion, but had made you the happiest so far.

“Uhm… Miss…”

____

Klick.

The sound of the safety catch of a gun getting released.

“You’re late,” Jaehyun announced into the semi-darkness as he took the weapon back into his hand. “She’s not here anymore. She just left.”

“I know,” a voice he had never heard before, answered back. “I actually came for you.”

“Oh. Be my guest then.” Jaehyun chuckled with sarcasm. “I wasn’t sure when exactly you’d arrive since my people couldn’t find the flight you boarded, but this is what I call perfect timing as I just left the door open. So, how did you find us exactly?”

He shrugged. “You know… it cost me a fortune and a few private detectives, but I was always watching her, even during detention. I always knew where she was. That I’m only coming now is because I thought that eventually, when she sees that I’m free and behaving, she’d come back.” His voice cracked. “But she didn’t.”

Jaehyun remembered the night you had claimed to have heard someone roaming around in the bedroom or garden. So there had been truly someone among you, a private detective most likely. He hated himself at that moment for not having been able to protect you better.

“You know what happened to the former guy she dated?”

The stalker stepped into the light that flooded into the room from the window, and as Jaehyun looked into his face, he encountered a man who he, and probably every other person, would deem harmless at first glance. He looked like a normal office worker, not intimidating or even dangerous at all with his slicked back hair and wide glasses.

“They packed their things and went away as soon as they met me,” he illustrated, almost boastful with much pride in his voice. “One of them didn’t want to back off, so I had to slash his tires. That was when he got the message.”

“Lucky you that I’m not one of these guys. I’m not scared of you.” Jaehyun grinned. “I’m her husband, and I’m going to protect her at all costs.”

“She doesn’t belong to you!” he then yelled, throwing around his arms. “She belongs to me! … But… she’s always running away from me… She never comes back to me. Why would someone do that when you’re destined to be together?”

Despite the semi-darkness, Jaehyun saw the insanity coming forward in his eyes that gradually slowly took power of his entire body. He wasn’t familiar with stalking cases personally himself, but had read quite a few things prior to your arrival.

Clearly, this guy followed the delusional disbelief of your both’s romantic destiny despite you having made it clear several times that no such thing existed at your side. Yet, his obsession with you had made him want to continue being a part of your life and change your mind at all costs until it turned unhealthy and dangerous for you, watching you and following each of your steps. Admiration had quickly turned into the sadistic urge to torment you, because if he couldn’t have you, nobody could.

And now, you didn’t even deserve to live if it wasn’t with him.

“I’m not going to run away like the other guys,” Jaehyun spoke calmly. “I’m here to set an end to this, because she deserves to live freely and happily. And I want to give this to her.”

“No!” he screamed, sweat dripping down his temples, and only now, Jaehyun saw the blade glistening against the dim light. “She can only be happy with me! With me only, not with someone else or even alone!”

Jaehyun lifted up his arms and aimed the gun at him. He flinched. “She’s happy with me. How does that sound, asshole?”

Suddenly, he laughed. “If you shoot at me, you’re going to jail, and you’re not going to have her either.”

“I don’t care,” Jaehyun spoke calmly and the guy raised his brows. “I don’t care if I might go to jail because of this, because no one else before cared enough. I don’t care if I have to give my life for hers, because my life is not worth living if she’s dead. I don’t care if I have her or not. I just want her to be far away from you and live her life to the fullest, because she deserves it. Because this is what love is.”

“Oh, you fool.” He laughed again, this time like a maniac. “She has you in her force. That’s what she usually does.”

“Maybe.” Jaehyun’s finger enclosed the trigger. “But that’s what love also is. Forceful.”

The stalker raised his hand, the huge knife between his fingers fully visible now as he prepared himself to dash forward, but the second he moved, your voice echoed through the house.

“Stop!”

You stepped into the living room, totally out of breath, but lucky to have convinced the driver to turn around before it was too late after he had empathized very much with you during your breakdown in the car and told you the entire truth.

“It’s okay,” you breathed, having reached the premises only seconds ago. “I see it clearly now. I can’t be with you, Jaehyun. I can’t run away from my feelings either.” You smiled mildly and stepped closer to the stalker. “I see where I belong to.”

Jaehyun couldn’t believe what he had just heard. “What-!”

“I know we didn’t have a great start,” you said, your gaze not wavering from the guy who had made your life on earth a living hell, yet you tried to conceal that you were trembling all over and sweating in fear as this was the only way to save Jaehyun. “While you only wanted to protect me, I always tried to defy you. I felt caged, imprisoned and really unhappy. It was only later that I realized that you did all that because you cared. About my safety… about me.”

Jaehyun saw that you were directing these words to your tormentor, but he also saw that they were not lies. They were only directed at the wrong person.

“Yes, yes!” the guy blurted. “That’s totally it!”

“Will you now please put away the knife? I will willingly come with you.” Then, you finally spun around to Jaehyun. “Please put the gun away as well.”

“But-!”

“Please!”

Hesitantly, he did as he had been told, so did the persecutor. He knew where you had come from as the guy wouldn’t have done the same, but still didn’t find the thought to be so weaponless appealing.

After the stalker had placed the knife on the kitchen counter, he turned around to you with a bright smile on his face, but it got wiped out very quickly - with your knuckles rolling nearly in slow motion over his cheek and continuing along the bridge of his nose. He lost balance and was thrown against a chair, folding like a piece of paper as he collapsed against the furniture.

Your fist had met his face full-force, and you stilled the seconds after, having totally caught him off guard - and yourself as well.

“The knife!” Jaehyun then screamed, reaching for his gun once again.

But as your fingers moved to reach for the weapon, your hand got slapped away and the blade vanished in front of your eyes and back into the possession of the stalker. Only this time, the knife was not the only thing he claimed to have taken control over.

The sharp blade slightly buried itself into the side of your neck as he had rendered you motionless by having you in a choke with his other arm wrapped around your middle. All your twisting and turning didn’t benefit you in any way as he was much taller and stronger, and you could only watch all the color drain from Jaehyun’s eyes as he looked back at you in horror.

“What wishful thinking, I’m such a fool,” the stalker whispered into your ear, blood streaming down your side, and the pain slowly overshadowed the shock you had initially felt. “If you can’t have someone yourself, all you can do is kill the person.”

You heard it click as Jaehyun was now pointing his gun at you. “Not before I kill you first.”

And then, there was pain.

____

When you were in the hospital, you dreamed of Jaehyun.

He was holding your hand at night, not leaving your side. It was tender and warm, just like the first time he had held your hand when you had joined the dinner with the other villagers. You could even hear what he was saying to you. Many words you had been longing to hear for so long.

Too bad that these were only fever dreams.

Because instead, when you woke up three days later, there was Rosie.

… Rosie!?

But you weren’t able to bring these words out as your throat was dry, so the syllables only came out as rasping sounds. She was quick to serve you a glass of water before you were finally able to ask,

“...Rosie? What happened?”

“Jesus!” she let out in wonder. “You can’t remember a thing?”

You shook your head. “Do you?” And then cocked your brow. “... what do you know exactly?”

“Jay told me everything. About you. About the program.” Your eyes widened and you prepared yourself to sit up, but Rosie gently pushed you back against the pillow. Only then you noticed that you couldn’t have made it further anyway. Your entire middle hurt. “It’s okay, lay still. Nobody can harm you anymore. He’s dead.”

“... dead?” You barely believed your own ears.

Rosie nodded. “Jay’s bullet hit you, but it was only a graze, barely visible, but enough to take the stalker by surprise so that he suddenly let go of you. But… he was on top of you the next moment… with the knife.” She struggled to find the right words. “When I arrived after the reinforcement you called before… there was so much blood, and Jay was holding you in his arms… he was screaming… wailing. He thought he’d lost you, and so did I.”

You got stabbed?!

That would explain the immense pain that turned more distinct with each bypassing second, and you were so close to calling a nurse to pump some more morphine into you.

“W… what happened to… him?” you asked, though a part of you already knew the answer.

“Jay shot at him. He died on the spot.”

You didn’t blame yourself for feeling so much relief at this moment. For the past year, this man had robbed you of all your happiness and freedom. Now, it was all over. You were safe and free. You had every right to be happy.

But you weren’t.

“Where is…” Suddenly, you stilled as a dangerous thought crossed our mind. “Is he-”

“He’s fine.” The corner of Rosie’s lips tilted up. “Even now, you’re only thinking about him. He’s outside. Should I call him in?”

“Yes, please. And Rosie?” You reached for her hand, squeezing it. “Thank you for coming. It means a lot.”

She squeezed your fingers back. “Even though this life of yours wasn’t real… I know our friendship is.”

She was so right.

When Rosie left, Jaehyun didn’t come in right away. You waited for at least five more minutes until the handle moved downwards and the face you had been longing to see all along finally appeared in your room.

“How are you doing?” he asked, and it made you shudder how distant he sounded as opposed to the look in his eyes.

They were telling a whole other story, and you wondered what was holding him back from running over to you and finally taking you into his arms.

“Fine.”

The pain in your stomach really did feel fine when the pain in your heart was a much graver one.

“Don’t lie to me. You got stabbed right through. It’s not like it’s nothing.” He lowered his head. “And it’s my fault. Again.”

You saw where he was coming from after everything that he had been through. Your mind was still working only slowly as it hadn’t been able to make the connection right away, but now, it was all clear.

“It’s thanks to you that I’m still alive. I’m very grateful.”

Eventually, the pain in your stomach would pass, leaving only a scar. You couldn’t imagine what the stalker would have done to you if Jaehyun wouldn’t have been there. You counted yourself very lucky to still be alive.

“Thank you, honestly.”

He acknowledged your feelings with a nod, though you weren’t entirely convinced that he thought the same about you. And as he didn’t move away from the door further in your direction, you finally grasped that he just wasn’t there by your side yet. Not only physically, but also emotionally.

At some point, everything happening in the past months had been real for him too. But now that he could have it all, he was getting cold feet. You didn’t know why, but you knew that it wasn’t your fault, and it certainly wasn’t in your power to lay out all the reasons as to why he shouldn’t feel this way.

He just wasn’t ready.

“You’re going back to the NYPD, right?”

“Yeah. Tomorrow already, as a matter of fact. I have things to take care of.” He scratched his head in nervousness. “You’ll be okay?”

Oddly, you could affirm his assumption.

You’d return to Seoul and to the Korea National Ballet. If you’d had a talk with the academy, you were positive that you could also still join the Dutch National Ballet as originally planned. You had your old life back, and it would all fall into place.

Your future, everything you had worked so hard for, laid in front of you again.

And without Jaehyun.

Again.

“I’ll be okay.” Despite these insights, you smiled through your pain. “Really.”

“Okay.” Jaehyun’s smile was equally painful.

Perhaps, he had wished for another outcome as well. But whatever was holding him back was more powerful than everything he’d ever felt for you, and you wished that you could share his pain again, telling him that he didn’t need to go through this all alone.

But you knew, this time, he wouldn’t let you.

Rosie was there for you after he had long left, comforting you throughout the entire night. She was also there when you got discharged two weeks later, bidding you farewell at the airport and showering you with so much love a friend could possibly feel for another.

“We’re going to meet again,” you promised her.

“I’ll come visit you,” she promised you too.

And with that, you returned to your old life.

____

The curtain call was your favorite part of each performance. Then, all the burden and pressure fell from your shoulders and you could finally breathe again, showering in the spotlight and relishing the applause.

Today was the first time that you stood on the stage of the Korea National Ballet again after the events in the States and thus, your first curtain call after such a long time.

Your hair had returned to its natural color, and despite the fact that you hadn’t changed at all from the outside, you knew that on the inside, you were an entirely different person. Nothing would be like before ever again.

“Good performance,” your instructor remarked and moved on to tell the same to the others as well.

You hadn’t danced an important position, only moving in the background as your instructor had been sure that you had let things slide in the months you were away. Before, you would have gotten angry, practicing day and night to lose the remaining weight and catch up with the others. Yes, you surely had let things slide, but to you, nothing of this was important anymore.

The Dutch National Ballet hadn’t wanted you back, and you couldn’t hold it against them. You were glad to have been able to pick up some kind of engagement again. Until you were back at the top, a lot of time would pass.

You just weren’t so sure anymore if you wanted to climb up that high again.

You took off your tight shoes in the dressing room and rubbed your wounded feet, your thoughts drifting off. You had seen him again. In the audience, sitting in the first row and watching you. Usually, you didn’t let your eyes wander through the people, but this time, your role had given you enough time to do so.

Not your stalker, but Jaehyun.

He had sat there, in a black tuxedo, and had watched you with the same gaze that he would share only with you during your time together.

You knew immediately that this wasn’t real. He wasn’t here. He couldn’t be here.

Because lately, you saw and felt him very often. Next to you on the bed when you were waking up, walking close to you as you strolled through the streets, and in the mirror whenever you lifted your head after washing your face.

This was what it was like when you couldn’t let go of a person you had once loved so much.

“There is someone waiting for you in the lobby,” another dancer told you in passing.

“Who is it?”

“Said his name was Yuno.” She shrugged. “Wears a black tuxedo and waits by the stairs.”

“Okay.”

You didn’t know a person named Yuno, so you didn’t hurry changing your clothes and took your sweet time, until a sudden thought crossed your mind. This was how it had started out with your stalker as well!

But it couldn’t be. He wasn’t alive anymore, and here, nobody would give you the same attention as you were only a background dancer. You sucked in a rush of air, halted, and then continued your way.

You’d be fine.

Just as you had promised Jaehyun.

“Mister…” you called out when you came around the corner. You didn’t know his surname, so you faltered, only able to watch him from behind as he stood with his back to you.

“Jeong. Mister Jeong.”

“... Mister...”

Your voice was stable, in contrast to your inner feelings as a storm broke free deep within you. You hadn’t seen him in so long, and you wanted to cry, scream and slap him all at once.

“I saw your performance.” He smiled. “You’re marvelous. I wanted to bring you a bouquet of flowers, but thought it would be a bit too tactless…”

“You’re late,” you interrupted him.

“I know,” he agreed. “There were a few things I had to take care of.”

“Things that took you three months?” You folded your arms across your chest. “I thought… I thought you moved on.”

“Is that what you think of me?” He looked hurt. “Have you moved on?”

Not a single bit. Every night, you lived through every moment you had spent together in the States. As much as you had wanted to, you hadn’t been able to move on.

Almost unnoticeably, you shook your head.

“You want to know what I did during this time?” He stepped closer to you as the lobby was emptying, and you didn’t retreat. “I visited the ballerina. She’s doing well. She’s a counselor now, helping people who are as handicapped as her. She said it’s fulfilling and that she’s very happy, and she thanked me again for saving her life. Hearing it from her personally takes a huge burden off my heart.”

Despite your controversial feelings, you smiled. “That’s good to hear. I’m happy for you.”

“And I finished my therapy sessions,” he continued. “For a long time, I thought I was the person bringing harm to people. I’m a detective, why am I only bringing harm to people I desperately want to protect? It just didn’t get into my head. My therapist said that not everyone is made for this life and I should focus on finding a partner who is as equally courageous and fearless as me. Who shares my views on life, who doesn’t back down and looks danger right into the eye. Only then, when I have a partner who can take care of themselves, I don’t have to fear for two lives, but only for one. For mine, because my partner will be fine by themselves.”

Then, he smiled too as you recalled, “I slapped the hell out of that asshole.”

“Yeah, you did. You also defied all my orders. You always know how to take care of yourself. You don’t run away when it’s getting dangerous. And you didn’t hesitate even for a single second when you found out that I lied that day. You came back right away to help me. If there is a woman suitable for me, then it’s you.”

You chewed on the inner flesh of your mouth to keep the growing smile from showing. You still didn’t know what exactly this all meant, but you were eager to hear it from him soon.

“But I didn’t come here to tell you this only.”

You tilted your head. “What did you come here for then?”

“I came to pick up my wife,” was his answer that nearly made your heart jump out of your chest.

You stared at him, lost for words and mouth agape.

“I’m sorry that it took me so long. I wanted to get everything cleared and settled. I wanted to be emotionally ready for a new path in my life, with you by my side. I… I mean… If you hate New York and want to stay in Seoul instead,” he hemmed and hawed, “I would be happy to cross the ocean again as long as you’ll be waiting for me at the other side. But if you want to come back to the US, I’ll be fine with that as well. In Seoul, New York or Connecticut… I can call any place my home as long as you’re with me. This time, as my real wife.”

You felt tears gathering in the brims of your eyes. “As… as your wife?”

“As my wife.” He nodded. “You want me to repeat that again?”

“Yes, please.” You blinked, your shoulders starting to tremble.

“Perhaps, you rather want to read it,” he dismissed softly and reached into the inner pocket of his tuxedo to pull out a sheet that he carefully unfolded and handed over to you.

You read attentively.

MARRIAGE CERTIFICATE APPLICATION

Jeong Yuno

and

….

There it was. His real name. Your real name.

This was real.

You looked up to him, the tears now streaming down your face, and you desperately tried to dry them with the back of your hand.

“If we get all your papers together, we can apply tomorrow and be officially married by next week.”

You could barely see through the blurry curtain of tears.

“This time, for real?”

you asked as Yuno, as his real name was, took your hands into his, and it felt just like the first time when you had walked along the streets of the little countryside village.

“This time, for real,” he promised.

4K notes View Post

hans0ul

1 year ago

wait omg I had reblogged this and its teaser! I didn't make the connection in my brain until now, welp- all systems are now back online. SO CUTE this was the first fic I think I'd directly engaged with the author on

the very first night.

synopsis: the search for a new place to live takes a turn for the worse when the only person willing to split rent with you is your ex-boyfriend.

pairing: kim mingyu x female reader genre: exes to lovers, roommates!au | romance, angst, smut word count: 19.7k

warnings: profanity, alcohol consumption, explicit sexual content (oral sex, fingering, protected sex) please let me know if i missed anything! note: title is the song 'the very first night' by taylor swift. thank you for reading! :) (and i apologise for the wait; this fic is long overdue)

ONE

You think that all the decisions you’ve made in your life so far have all boiled down to this one moment.

Karmic retribution, if you will.

Despite the six months for which you and your ex-boyfriend have been separated, Kim Mingyu looks the same. The same floppy hair that never quite sits flat on his head—though he’s let it grow a tiny bit, and now it curls behind his ears—and the same tight-fitting black shirt you swear you tried stealing from him once. Wire-rimmed glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, and warm brown eyes that peer back at you. Pink lips which beckon you with a small, yet welcoming smile.

“Hey.” The word drags from his mouth, and he extends the last syllable for a second longer than necessary. “You’re here early.”

Shit. Even his voice sounds the same.

You heft your suitcase and place it by your feet just so you can avoid eye contact. Under different circumstances, Mingyu probably wouldn’t have let you carry your suitcase all the way up the stairs to the third floor—the elevator has been out of commission since before you even met him, and that doesn’t appear to change anytime soon. He probably would have lugged the whole thing upstairs, despite your protests and claims that you’re strong enough to do it on your own. But now, you can only sense his gaze on your figure as you place it securely on the floor.

When you straighten up, he’s still looking at you. He has an eyebrow raised and his arms crossed over his chest, but his eyes are clouded, almost as if he’s built some kind of impenetrable fortress against you. You have your walls up, too—in the slight clench of your jaw and defiant raise of your chin—and it’s something someone else wouldn’t be able to notice, but you’re sure Kim Mingyu has.

“Yeah. Um.” You attempt to smile, pray it doesn’t visibly appear as a grimace, and gesture behind you with your thumb. “The packers and movers came by pretty early, so everything ended up moving faster.”

“I see.” He purses his lips, evidently running out of things to say. (Good for you, really, because there’s nothing for you to say either.)

You take the chance to glance behind him—a feat in itself, considering how broad his shoulders are—and observe the interiors of what is going to be your home for the next year. Beige walls, the ratty sofa he bought off a garage sale, the television set he originally used to play video games on but ended up using it to watch shows instead—and a potted succulent placed in the corner. That wasn’t there before.

Before you allow your lips to tug up amusedly, Mingyu speaks again. “Is that all? When’s the rest of your stuff coming in?”

“The movers said they’d have everything ready within two days. It might take me longer to get everything sorted out, though,” you reply, aiming your gaze downwards at your suitcase.

It’s an old thing, with fraying fabric and rusty wheels, but it currently contains a fraction of your belongings: Clothes, toiletry, a small pouch where you keep items that have a special significance to you. Only the bare essentials, really. Mingyu had assured you that the room was furnished, with a bed, closet and desk. His old roommate, Minghao, had moved out but left the furniture behind because he had no reason to take them with him—not when he moved in with his girlfriend in her own apartment. All that’s left for the movers to bring over is your bookshelf, your book collection, the rest of your clothes, the Ikea drawer you and your best friend, Park Jihyo, built together, and other smaller items like your desk lamp and office chair.

“That’s okay,” Mingyu says. “Take as long as you need.”

You nod, mumbling a “thank you”, then bend down to pick up your suitcase.

Mingyu moves aside, granting you enough space to roll it across the floor and head over to the side that leads to the Minghao’s old room. Right opposite you is the doorway that leads to Mingyu’s bedroom, and further to the side is the corridor that opens into the kitchen, the small space where he keeps a dining table, and the bathroom.

In a way, you’re glad your room is situated further away from those places. Ghosts of memories linger there, ones that you can’t bear to revisit.

No, it’s better this way; you’re away from everything that you used to consider a second home. Maybe if you close the door behind you, you can pretend like you’re in some kind of void where the only things that exist are you and the bed.

“Wait, Y/N.”

You pause, feeling… something. The way he says your name, so casually, as if it’s second nature to him (it used to be) and nothing has changed at all, has you on edge—not in the good way, but not in the bad way either.

You turn around. “Yeah?”

“Um.” Your ex-boyfriend hesitates for a second. “I’m… going out for dinner with Minghao and some others, is that okay? It might be late by the time I come back.”

“Okay.” Then, feeling the need to clarify something, you say, “You—you don’t have to tell me that. We don’t… owe each other an explanation for where the other is.”

Mingyu stays quiet, and you look away, teeth worrying your bottom lip. You wonder if he’s going to say anything—or even show any kind of reaction at all.

“Right. We don’t.” His voice is toned down with a kind of uneasiness that you don’t blame him for. Heck, even you feel a twinge of hurt rise up your throat at your own words. “I’ll… let you get some rest.” He nods once, places his hands in his pockets, and walks back to his room.

Your grip on the suitcase handle tightens. Once you enter your room, you let out a pained sigh. You shut the door and turn your back to the wooden blockade that separates you from the rest of the apartment.

This is not going the way you expected—but then again, what had you expected? That everything between you and Mingyu would just vanish and you could talk to him normally without feeling that tiny pinprick of bitterness stab your chest every time you address him? You and Mingyu have a history, filled with good times and bad times, and six months spent away from each other will do nothing to erase that.

You think of what your old roommate, Jihyo, would’ve said. He’s just a boy, Y/N. Make him clean the toilet all the time so he’ll automatically get sick of you.

You smile to yourself, unlocking your phone. Jihyo is probably too busy settling down in her new home in the city she moved to, so she can’t pick up your call. You decide to send her a text message instead.

You switch to the food app, order your favourite dishes from the Indian place a couple of streets away, and toss your phone onto the bed. Kneeling, you unzip your suitcase and unpack the few items you have with you. As you move around, you can already imagine how to decorate the place, how to make it feel more like a home and less like you’re an intruder. The closet is just enough for all the clothes you own—the ones you’ve packed and the ones stored in cardboard boxes yet to arrive. The desk placed opposite to the bed is perfect for when you have to work on your laptop late at night; if you place your lamp on it, you might even forget that you’re not in your old apartment. The bed already has a mattress with clean linen on the bedspread. You place your old Looney Tunes duvet on it.

Thirty minutes later, the doorbell rings. You pause your unpacking to get the door and thank the delivery guy for the food. Mingyu has already left, judging by the lack of noise in the rest of the apartment. You just hope he doesn’t come back home drunk and shit-faced—that would definitely ruin the rest of your night, and the much-needed sleep you require.

You decide not to use the kitchen table, instead opting to take the food containers into your room, where you can eat and watch a show at the same time. It’s lonely, but at least you can have your meal somewhere comfortable.

Your phone rings with notifications. You pick it up, carefully balancing the bowl of curry on your knee.

(19:47) Jihyo: hows the apartment??? did u make mingyu clean the toilet yet?

(19:47) Mingyu: hey, i’m at a thai place. do you want anything to eat at home? i could get something packaged.

You smile at the first text, tense up at the second one, and place your phone down next to you. Not replying to either of their messages might be a bad idea, but right now, all you want is to have your spicy curry and naan in peace—your best friend and ex-boyfriend be damned.

TWO

It’s only after you move in with Mingyu that your separation from Jihyo truly sinks in. Now, there’s no one you can wake up at two in the morning because your period started and you ran out of pads, or gossip about that one campus couple who broke up in public at your favourite boba place.

Not to mention the fact that living with your ex-boyfriend is mildly awkward at best and stupidly melancholic at worst.

It’s been a week, but you and Mingyu seem to have figured out a way to work in tandem. It appears as though neither of you want to see the other—just yet, at least. He goes for a morning jog at six; your alarm rings at six. He comes back reeking of sweat at seven in the morning; you’re getting ready to leave for work by then. You do the dishes on the days he vacuums the apartment and vice versa. It leaves no room for conversation, other than the occasional greetings and small talk when you happen to cross paths.

In fact, ever since you purposefully ignored Mingyu’s text asking if you wanted anything from the Thai restaurant, he’s made a conscious effort at avoiding you.

You nearly jump out of your seat when someone taps your shoulder. “Hey.”

You turn around and meet your co-worker, Lee Seokmin’s eyes. He smiles at you, eyes curving into little crescents.

“Hi,” you say, smiling back automatically.

If there’s one person you can count on to bring a smile to your lips, even if it’s eight o’clock in the morning—at work, no less—it’s Lee Seokmin. His cheerful nature and lively personality is infectious. His happiness radiates outwards in waves that everyone gets swept up on. You might even consider yourself envious of how easily he sways everyone, with that exuberant smile and those good-natured compliments he doles out to everyone like they cost him nothing. (Which they don’t, you suppose.)

“Something on your mind?”

Your smile turns into a grimace. “You could tell?”

He gives you a little half-shrug, still smiling. “You had a weird, serious, think-y face. And before you come at me for think-y not being a real word—I’m very aware of that, thank you—it’s the best way I can describe you.”

“You chose think-y—” you bite back a chuckle— “as the best word to describe me? Come on, Seokmin, you can do better than that.”

“I can,” he agrees, “but only when the situation is appropriate.” His face turns grave, and he continues, “But seriously, Y/N. Did you have a rough night?”

His eyes roam over your face, evident concern shown in the curve of his lips and the slight dip of his eyebrows. You control your wince, wondering if the swollen bags underneath your eyes aren’t as concealed by your makeup as you thought.

Rough week, more like. But you don’t say that to him. “Something like that,” you say.

“You moved out a while back, right? How’s the new place?”

“It’s… good. Close to the supermarket and all that. Everything is within, like, a ten-metre radius, so I don’t have to go very far to get things.”

“That’s nice to hear,” Seokmin says, and you can tell he really means it. “I bet you’re tired, though, with all that packing and unpacking and moving around.”

He bends closer, the front of his loosely tucked shirt just barely touching the back of your chair. This close, you can smell the faint scent of Seokmin’s deodorant and fabric softener. He taps his finger on the arm of your chair. “Do you want to get some coffee with me?”

“Um.” You look back at your laptop and the pile of binders next to it. Seokmin seems to know what you’re thinking, because he huffs and says, “C’mon, I’m sure Seungcheol wouldn’t mind if you took a coffee break.”

“I guess,” you return, flashing him a smile when he rolls your chair backwards to give you space to stand up.

Getting up, both of you weave your way to the third floor, where the only functioning coffee maker is housed. The elevator is too crowded and busy for you to use to get down from your position on the seventh floor, so you settle for using the stairs. Throughout the ten-minute walk (which effectively turns into a fifteen-minute one, thanks to him), Seokmin waves and greets every single fellow office worker you pass by. By name.

You roll your eyes and bite your lip to hold back your laugh when a young, female intern—probably still in college by the looks of it—flushes bright red because Seokmin complimented her barrette.

He catches your eye and grins. “What’s so funny?”

You shake your head good-naturedly. “It’s nothing. Carry on with whatever you were doing.”

“What was I doing?”

“Oh, you know,” you say airily, “making everyone fall head over heels for you because you’re just so nice.”

His grin only widens. “You make it sound as though being nice is a bad thing.”

“That’s not what I meant at all,” you protest. “I’m just— Greeting every single person you see? By name? How do you even know everyone in the building?”

“I just check their ID card,” he explains, shrugging slightly. “I read this WikiHow article that said if you speak to people using their name, it creates a good impression and makes you appear more confident than you really are.”

“Really?”

Humming, Seokmin nods, before adding slyly, “I’m not sure what you mean by making everyone fall in love with me, though.”

“Please,” you snort. “You’re way too charming for your own good—and I don’t mean that in a bad way.”

“You think so?”

You can hear the smugness in his tone and you roll your eyes again. “Yes, I think so.”

“Then…” He trails off, gazing at the handrail.

Seokmin’s voice turns softer, more serious. Contemplation bleeds into his features, and when he speaks again, he lacks the bravado he had with all the other people he spoke to on your way down.

“Guess I better work on charming the right people, huh?”

You blink, but before you can digest Seokmin’s words, he gives you another bright grin before rounding the corner and striding towards the coffee machine. You follow, the need for caffeine in your system overriding your instinct to mull over what your co-worker said. Unfortunately, it seems you and Seokmin aren’t the only ones who want coffee; a long queue runs ahead of you. Your coffee break might end up taking longer than you thought.

“So,” Seokmin casually drawls, one hand in his pocket and the other fiddling with his ID card’s lanyard. “Do you want to talk about your rough night?”

“I…” You pause and consider.

Should you tell Seokmin? You trust him enough—you’ve known him for as long as you’ve been working in this company—and he’s always been friendly to you, offering you a ride home when both of you work overtime and paying for your food on the occasional visits to a café or a coffee shop. Besides, he’s the closest person you have to a friend, now that Jihyo lives in a different city and you can’t call her up whenever you feel like it. You decide to tread the waters first, only telling him the bare minimum.

“Hypothetically speaking,” you begin, “if you move in with someone you don’t like but have known for years, what would you do?”

“That’s a tough one.” He scratches his chin, pretending to think. “I guess it depends on the kind of past you share, y’know? But either way, I would try to… make peace with them, I guess. Like a ceasefire. Offer them an olive branch. Hypothetically speaking, of course.” He grins knowingly at the last bit and you shove his shoulder.

What Seokmin said makes sense. You and Mingyu are living together; your past relationship shouldn’t come in the way of talking to each other. But it does, so much more than it should. Try as hard as you might, every time you think of Kim Mingyu, the first thing that comes to your mind is all the kisses you’ve shared, the way his arms feel around you, how both of you broke the promises you made to each other—all because you were too proud and he was too stubborn.

You still are proud. For all you know, Mingyu might still be stubborn.

What a pair, you think drily.

You and Seokmin shuffle forwards. He stays silent, allowing you to process your thoughts and wonder how, exactly, you’re going to get over Mingyu and talk to him without feeling like your stomach is twisting into a million knots.

Once you reach the coffee machine, Seokmin hands you a cup. “It’s hot,” he warns, before carefully handing you the styrofoam cup filled to the brim with the bitter brew. You cautiously take a sip, wincing when you almost burn your tongue and make a face at your co-worker when he chimes, “I told you.”

The walk back to your floor doesn’t take as long as the walk down. Before you part ways, Seokmin offers you a small smile and a pat on your shoulder.

“If you’re wondering how to approach your roommate,” he says, lowering his voice, “maybe start off by offering them food. Works like a charm every time.”

Food. Yeah, you can manage that. Dinner with your ex-boyfriend.

Should be a piece of cake.

THREE

Asking Mingyu if he would like to have dinner with you is decidedly not a piece of cake.

When he comes back home from work, Mingyu has only one trajectory: Travel in a straight line from the door to his bedroom, offering you a tight smile if he sees you along the way. His bag is always slung across one shoulder and his shirt is always untucked and his hair is always a wild mess. If his appearance wasn’t achingly familiar, you would probably laugh every time you see his unruly figure.

It takes a week for you to muster up the nerve to look Mingyu in the eye, after your conversation with Seokmin. He’s been pestering you incessantly, almost exactly like Jihyo. When you told her about Seokmin’s suggestion, she had been nothing short of enthusiastic. Your phone has been blowing up constantly with texts from her, egging you on and on and on to make a move first and raise the (hypothetical) white flag.

“If you keep putting it off, you’re going to be very miserable for the rest of your immediate future,” was her reasoning when you called and spoke to her on the phone three days ago. “But also if you don’t fucking ask him to have a meal with you within the next week, I will fly over and have you both sit in a room, alone, and force you to talk.”

Both the options are pretty much the same. You didn’t have the energy to tell Jihyo that.

It’s on a Monday evening that you catch Mingyu and pop the question. A Monday evening that’s insignificant, really. Almost laughable at how normal the evening is. Mingyu unlocks the door, closes it while toeing his shoes off, and gives you the same tight smile—one where it doesn’t reach his eyes, his jaw is slightly clenched, and his lips thin into almost straight lines.

“Mingyu.” Your voice comes out breathless, like you’ve been jogging for miles before coming to a stop in front of him. He pauses, wind-ruffled hair framing his face in cloudy wisps.

“Yeah?”

“I—uh—” you force the words to tumble out of your lips, before you can overthink— “I was wondering if you would like to have dinner with me?”

Mingyu purses his lips, looking at you warily. He’s careful, cautious, when he asks, “Is… there any special reason?”

You swallow. “No,” you say honestly, not allowing your eyes to tear away from his. “There isn’t. But I tried making lasagne today, and I would like to share it with someone.”

For a minute, he doesn’t say anything, only lets his bag fall into the crook of his arm. “Okay,” he says finally. “Let me just change and wash up.”

You nod, making your way to the kitchen to bring out the casserole. You’re not usually one for cooking—you prefer ordering takeout because it’s easier and they make the food better than you, anyway—but simply ordering food didn’t sit right with you. Lasagne is a dish you’ve made a few times before, and you would rather make something you’re familiar with instead of trying to whip up something new.

When you go back into the kitchen, you find Mingyu already there, bent over an open cupboard’s door as he fishes out some plates and cutlery. He’s wearing a loose white shirt and grey sweatpants, fringe falling freely over his forehead and obscuring his eyes.

“Are our regular plates okay or do we need the china ones?” he asks, still bent over.

“Why do we need china plates? Wait, why do you even have china plates with you in the first place?”

He looks over at you and shrugs. “Dunno. Minghao had a china cutlery phase, I think.”

That does sound like a phase Xu Minghao would have.

“The regular ones are fine.” You don’t want to risk breaking Minghao’s precious cutlery.

While Mingyu wipes the plates with a dishcloth, you grab two mugs and pour orange juice from the fridge into them. You take one in each hand and follow Mingyu to the kitchen table, placing both of them on either side.

“Orange juice?” Mingyu’s eyebrows are raised.

“Yeah. So?” you challenge him, raising your eyebrows as well.

But he doesn’t say anything against your choice of beverage, only shrugs and mumbles, “We should really stock up on alcohol.”

Your lips twitch. You don’t allow yourself to smile.

Instead, you pull your chair back and sit down, steepling your fingers in front of you. Mingyu piles some food onto his plate. For some reason, you feel weirdly nervous. What if it’s not as good as you think? What if he doesn’t like it?

You shake those thoughts away. This is Kim Mingyu. Even if the food was bad, he wouldn’t tell you; he would only grin, compliment your culinary skills, and continue to eat despite everything.

“Is it… good?” you ask tentatively, after he takes a forkful into his mouth and chews deliberately.

He waits until he’s swallowed before answering. “It’s great. Really good,” he affirms, and you can hear in his voice that he means it.

Well, almost.

It’s the slight dip and intonation of his tone, but it’s one you’re familiar with. You narrow your eyes at him. Mingyu continues eating, oblivious to your glare. In fact, he shovels more lasagne onto his dish and eats with more gusto, pausing every now and then to gulp down some orange juice.

“Really?” you say casually. “I’m glad. Maybe I should try some too.”

Mingyu’s reaction is so instantaneous, it’s almost comical. His eyes widen by a fraction, and he immediately reaches for the casserole. “You should definitely try some,” he says. “But it’s so good, I wanna have some more.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, watching Mingyu stuff more food into his mouth before deciding to put him out of his misery.

“Mingyu. Tell me the truth. How’s the food?”

He pauses, swallowing the food in his mouth and answering with a subdued, sheepish smile:

“It’s too salty.”

FOUR

“Why are you leaving so early?” Jihyo’s voice crackles through your phone placed on your bed.

“Seokmin said he wanted to try out the croissants at the new bakery that opened nearby,” you reply, fiddling with the buttons of your shirt. “He also said he wanted to buy a baguette so that he could whack his roommate with it. Something about going all the way to Paris to buy it but his roommate used it to hammer a nail into the wall and broke it.”

A pause, and then, “Is his roommate okay in the head?”

“Good question.” You grin at your reflection in the mirror, pat down the hair at the back of your neck, and grab your phone. “I’m heading out now. I’ll text you later.”

“’kay,” your best friend says. “Tell Mingyu I said hi.”

“I will,” you say, but you already know you’re not going to greet him on behalf of her.

Things between you and Mingyu are… still pretty much the same, honestly. After that dinner fiasco, you’ve been too embarrassed to properly address him, and he’s not made much of an effort on his part. Or maybe you’ve been consciously avoiding him so much that he doesn’t get a chance to put his foot forward. Either way, your cheeks still burn up whenever you think of that night’s dinner, so for now, hiding in your room is quite possibly the only way you can prevent yourself from catching fire completely.

Stupid logic. You’re a grown adult, with the ability to make good judgements and make decisions. Unfortunately, your decisions are mostly borderline idiotic.

Shouldering your bag, you leave your room and head to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. There’s a Post-It note stuck on the refrigerator. Peeling it off the fridge’s door, you read it curiously.

Got some cookies from Minghao’s friend’s bakery. I’ve kept them in the pantry. Enjoy! :)

Mingyu’s familiar scrawl is branded into your head, and seeing the yellow square of paper makes nostalgia bubble inside your chest like a bath bomb dropped into a bathtub filled with water. You pocket the note, and smile so widely, your cheeks hurt.

Maybe he’s put his foot forward, after all.

Seokmin is already waiting for you outside your apartment building by the time you go out. He grins at you, his eyes crinkling in the corners and teeth flashing happily.

“Hi,” you greet him. “Did you wait long?”

“No.” Your co-worker shakes his head, still smiling. “I just got here, actually.”

“I’m glad.” You return his smile. “Should we head out?”

Seokmin nods. “Of course,” he says, and you fall into step with him.

He has a never-ending list of topics to talk to you about—and for the most part, you’re glad that he’s so outgoing. In twenty minutes, you’ve learnt almost everything there is to know about his roommate, Jeonghan, his older sister, his fear of ladybugs (you snort out loud at that particular anecdote), and his favourite anime (Haikyu!! and One Piece). In return, you tell him about that time you and Jihyo accidentally walked into the wrong restroom at a bar, and how you got dumped by your high school crush because he thought you were better than him at playing basketball.

It’s comfortable. Talking to Seokmin always is.

But you still don’t talk about Mingyu. You try hard to stop thinking of him, but he’s always there at the back of your mind, an unopened gift that you don’t unwrap.

Finally, you and Seokmin round a corner and find yourselves standing in front of the just-opened bakery. The scent of vanilla and cinnamon wafts through the open door. An array of different types of breads and other desserts is placed carefully on a display at the counter, and the owner greets you with a welcoming smile.

“What do you want to have?” Seokmin asks, holding your elbow and leading you in.

You eye the basket of croissants. The buttery confection looks delicious, but so does the tray of muffins placed next to it. And the bagels placed beside the muffins. “I can’t decide.”

“How about one of everything?”

You glance at him to see if he’s joking, but Seokmin looks completely serious. “You’re kidding, right?” you say, grabbing his arm. “There’s no way I’m going to let you buy one of everything in this store!”

“I would,” Seokmin admits, a flush creeping up his neck, “if you asked me to.”

You groan. “Seokmin. Please don’t.”

“Alright, alright.” He raises his hands in defeat. “I’m just saying, if you wanted me to—”

“One croissant, please,” you interrupt, addressing the owner. “To go. And he will have…”

“Make that two croissants,” Seokmin finishes. “I’ll have whatever the lady’s having.”

“How gentlemanly of you.”

“I know.”

Seokmin pays for his croissant, and you pay for yours. The owner wraps them up and hands them to you, asking you to visit again. Once you exit, you unwrap yours and take a small bite. The bread is soft and melts in your mouth, leaving a sweet aftertaste. You take another bite, and it’s only then that you notice Seokmin looking at you, a corner of his lips turned upwards in a crooked smile and one hand in his pocket.

“What?” you ask, suddenly self-conscious. “Do I have crumbs on my face?”

“No,” he replies. “I just… I would really love to do this again, Y/N.”

Oh.

Seokmin looks at you so hopefully. Like he’s been waiting for this opportunity for a long time. Like he needs to get something off his chest. Like he never wants this moment to end.

“...I’d like that, too,” you say.

Somehow, the words leave a bitter taste in your mouth, one that even another mouthful of the sweet snack can’t erase.

FIVE

It’s getting late, and yet Kim Mingyu is hellbent on getting you to keep him company. The worst part is that it’s working—though you would never admit that to him.

Being friends with your ex isn’t that uncommon. You and Mingyu can be friends. But how long are you willing to put up with this ruse before it all blows up in your faces? Friendship between two people who used to date isn’t that much of a big deal—but that’s just it, isn’t it? You and Mingyu weren’t just two people who used to date.

How did you even let him talk you into spending time with him? Or maybe that’s all on you; you’ve never been able to say no to him. One minute you’re looking at his face and remembering the lasagne gone wrong, the next he’s asking if you want to watch a movie with him. Except neither of you have updated your Netflix subscription, so this was a bad idea all along.

Maybe talking to Mingyu is a bad idea.

Maybe you should go back to your old ways, locking yourself up in your room and only acknowledging his presence when you happen to cross paths.

But the socialite in you nags, what if he thinks you’re some kind of hermit who only comes out to eat and drink? Besides, he’s here now, right next to you on the sofa—keeping a respectable distance between your bodies—as he watches a rerun of America’s Next Top Model because it was the least shitty thing playing on all the channels you scrounged through fifteen minutes ago.

Normally, you would be elated at the idea of poking fun at random reality shows, expressing your exasperation at the poorly-written scripted drama and the even worse acting. But even if the showoff between two aspiring models both named Jessica and sporting the same colour of fake tan and bleached blonde hair was somewhat interesting, you find your gaze keeps wandering to your ex-boyfriend.

You trace the contours of his face with your eyes—the cheekbones that jut out only slightly, the furrow created on his forehead as his eyebrows kiss, the way his honey-brown eyes stare at the screen in front of him with a focused intensity. Even the way his lips curve ever-so slightly upwards, despite him pressing them together, has you recalling just how soft they felt against your own.

His warm, soft skin. The prominent collarbone that you used to press small kisses to whenever you wanted to get his attention. The moles scattered all over his body, creating a canvas for you to paint on by tracing them with your fingers. The flex of his fingers as he bunches them into a loose fist.

Everything about him is so familiar, yet so foreign at the same time.

Even this semblance of friendship that has bridged the drawn-out distance between you both feels strange—as though somewhere in the back of your subconscious, you recognise that this camaraderie is either a really good thing or could go extremely wrong. You’re in the middle of that bridge, trying your best not to lean too much to the right or to the left, but even a slight misstep could lead to everything going downhill.

“Are you rooting for Jessice H. or Jessica C.?”

“Huh?” You blink, escaping your haze of thoughts. “I’m sorry—which one is which?”

Mingyu glances at you with a deadpan expression. “We’ve been watching them trying to one up each other for the past ten minutes.”

“Sorry.” You smile sheepishly. “Both of them look the same to me.”

“Fair enough,” he acquiesces, before returning his focus to the show. “It’s the fake tan, isn’t it? Although the hair is similar too… No wonder they’ve been arguing about who put on their mascara better—it looks identical.”

You play along. “Or maybe it’s the supposed Gucci belts. I had no idea Gucci made handbags with fake crocodile skin.”

“The more you know…”

You laugh at that, and Mingyu looks at you—really looks, the same way he used to when you made a bad joke and giggled at it yourself. He looks at you with adoration written all over his face, in the upward twist of his lips and the crinkling in the corners of his eyes.

You clamp your mouth shut immediately, feeling a sense of nostalgia, longing and wistfulness seep into your skin, through your flesh and settle deep into your bones.

Too much. It’s too much, and it’s way too early, and you don’t want to dwell on anything at the moment. So you do what you do best: You hide.

You tear your gaze off him and rub your palms on your old jeans. You hear Mingyu’s sharp intake of breath, but you force yourself not to look, not to think about him.

“Hey, uh—I was supposed to call Jihyo right now,” you lie, and even you think it sounds lame coming out of your mouth, so there’s no way Mingyu can’t see through it.

“Y/N,” is all he says.

You hate the way your chest clenches—just because he said your name—but what can you do? Escape the situation and never bring up the obvious elephant in the room?

Yeah. That’s exactly what you do. Making decisions isn’t your forte, but you’ll deal with the consequences of your actions later. Much, much later, if you can avoid it for as long as you’re living here.

You get up and make a beeline for your room, and Kim Mingyu doesn’t say anything to make you stop.

SIX

Whenever you faltered, Jihyo was your voice of reason. She would help you back to your feet, give you a solid nudge on your shoulder and list out the pros and cons of everything, allowing you to formulate your own opinion and come to a decision.

She isn’t being very helpful right now.

“Think about it,” she reasons. “Before, he was your ex. Now, he’s the guy you live with. You have to talk to him, no matter what.”

She’s right. She knows you know she’s right. You still refuse to acknowledge it, because pride comes before a fall, but you haven’t fallen yet. It’s more like you’re dangling off the precipice.

“How’s Jaehyun?” you say instead, referring to the guy she’s been crushing on ever since she moved to the new city.

Jihyo lets out an unimpressed sigh, the grainy image of her face on your phone screen contorting slightly. “Don’t think you’re being super smart by changing the topic, Y/N. And he’s fine. We went out for boba the other day.”

“Yeah?” You play with the fraying edge of the duvet thrown over your body. “That’s nice.”

Jihyo hums, pushing some of her hair behind her ear. “And then he asked if we could hook up.”

You guffaw. “Really?”

“Yeah.” She nods vigorously, affirming her statement. “I said no, obviously.”

“Why? Afraid he’s too much to handle?”

“Please,” your best friend snorts. “Have you seen him? I think I’m too much for him to handle. He couldn’t even pay for the boba without tearing his pocket because he was too enthusiastic in getting his wallet out.”

You smile thinly. Jihyo might be poking fun at the man, but you can tell from the twinkle in her eyes and the way her voice is filled with infectious joy that she’s enamoured by him. You wish you could meet him in person. Instead, you have to settle for checking out his Instagram profile.

“Anyway,” she continues, stifling a yawn, “it’s late and I have to head out tomorrow. I’ll call you later.”

“Okay,” you say. “Good night. Don’t dream of Jaehyun.”

She flips her middle finger at you and you roll your eyes, pressing the end button. Just when you’re about to fluff your pillow so you can lie down, you hear a knock on your door.

“Y/N?” Mingyu sounds remarkably active, considering the fact that it’s currently fifteen minutes past midnight. “Are you awake?”

Curiosity compels you to answer honestly, “Yeah. Is everything okay?”

You tread over to the door, swinging it open. Mingyu is in his sweatpants—a pair you know he only wears for bed—and a loose graphic T-shirt. You’re wearing pretty much the same attire, except your shirt is an old one, worn-out from your high school days, and it doesn't fit you that well anymore. You tug the hem over your hips consciously.

“Yeah,” he says, nodding. “Yeah, everything’s okay. I was just…” He pauses, raising a hand and ruffling his hair. “Do you wanna get some ice cream?”

Of all possible things you expected Mingyu to ask you, this certainly wasn’t one of them. You blink, bemused.

“Or—or we don’t have to,” he backtracks, when you don’t say anything immediately. “I was just craving something sweet, that’s all—”

“Okay,” you say, surprising yourself with your answer. Mingyu is trying to extend the olive branch you placed in between you both, and you have to appreciate that. Regardless of your personal feelings. Besides, Jihyo was right—he’s the guy you live with, and you need to be able to spend time with him. As friends. Nothing more.

“Okay.” He exhales, relieved. “It’s right across the street.”

“I think I know the one you’re talking about.”

The ice cream parlour is a ten-minute walk from your apartment, but walking with Mingyu makes time fly. He says something about mint chocolate being an underrated flavour, and you insinuate that it deserves to be, and just like that, conversation flows between you both as though your past is some kind of a fever dream.

Where Seokmin is a bright ray of sunshine lighting up your way on a cloudy day, Mingyu is moonlight, skittering over your figure and providing solace in the dark. Seokmin is infectious laughter and gleeful smiles; Mingyu is whispered jokes and shared silence.

Perhaps it’s those very qualities that made you fall so hard for the man next to you. You know for sure it’s those very qualities that still have you in his grip, even though he doesn’t know it. Maybe that’s why talking to him is awkward—because how do you move on from someone who captured your heart and kept it for safe-keeping but know that there’s one big, gaping hole in your chest where his heart is supposed to be? Even now, a small part of you belongs to Mingyu, like a little token which he’s kept locked up and hidden the key.

Six months is a long time, but neither you nor Mingyu seems to be able to bring up what happened. Maybe it’s for the best, you think. You would rather have a small bit of this domesticity that feels familiar than have everything blow up in your face because of the harsh words you exchanged.

You ignore the tightening in your chest and focus on the warmth pooling in your stomach when Mingyu grins and offers you a chance to redeem yourself when it comes to good ice cream flavours. You say mint chocolate is tolerable, but only because Mingyu likes it.

SEVEN

Seokmin drops by your cubicle almost every day now. He offers to drop you back home, too.

Each time, you smile but decline politely. You still feel guilty about saying that you would like to spend more time with him as well—but in your defence, you didn’t really lie; you do want to spend more time with him, but only as a friend. Seokmin didn’t specify how exactly he wants to go out with you.

It’s getting harder to say no, however. Seokmin is everything if not persistent, and his determination to take you out has you crumbling under his forlorn gaze and pleading words.

He doesn’t make your heart beat faster, or make butterflies erupt inside your belly. Being with Seokmin doesn’t come with bright fireworks or flashy songs. It’s finding the extraordinary in the mundane, and laughing yourselves silly over jokes that aren’t even that funny.

So. It’s not Mingyu, but Seokmin is nice and friendly and stable, and you think you can fall for him. You and Mingyu aren’t going to cross the threshold of friends ever again, anyway. There’s nothing stopping you from going out with Seokmin.

“Okay,” you say when he asks you again, a half-resigned look on his face when he assumes you’ll just say no again.

The way his expression morphs to elation is worth it, you think. He surges forward, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in for a tight hug. “Thank you,” he whispers into your ear, and the joy he feels is infectious—as most good things with Seokmin are—so it’s no surprise that your cheeks are already hurting from smiling too hard.

When you update Jihyo about the latest turn of events, she tuts disapprovingly and says, “Have you told Mingyu?”

“No,” you say, feeling defensive. “I don’t have to tell him, do I?”

Your best friend waits for a beat. “You don’t, I guess.”

Mingyu interrupts your call then, and you quickly tell Jihyo you’ll text her later. He stands in the living room, holding up a pair of button down shirts, one in each hand, forehead creased and mouth downturned.

You lean against your doorway, amused. “You called?”

His face clears as he looks at you, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “I have this work event I need to attend tomorrow, but I don’t know what to wear.”

You observe the shirts he’s holding up. One is cream in colour, long-sleeved and ironed neatly. The other is black, with a thin white stripe along the collar and sleeves.

“The black one,” you say immediately. And then feel your cheeks heat up with your quick answer. In your defence, Kim Mingyu has always looked alarmingly handsome in black. Objectively speaking.

“I haven’t worn this one in a long time.” He brings it close to his face, squinting at it. “It probably stinks.”

“Smell it, then,” you say, chuckling at the mortified look on Mingyu’s face. “What? You’re telling me you’ve never worn your underwear inside out because you forgot to do the laundry? This isn’t that different.”

“I have never done anything of the sort.” He sniffs petulantly at you, before his eyes narrow. “Wait. Does that mean you’ve worn your underwear inside out?”

You wrinkle your nose. “Gross. I thought you knew me better than that.”

Mingyu tenses up at your offhand comment, and you look down, wondering why that even slipped out of your mouth in the first place. Of course you screw everything up just when things are going decently well.

“I do,” he mumbles. “I do know you better than that.” When you look at him, he has a wan smile on his lips. “Which is why I’m going to trust your judgement and wear the black shirt. Even if it’s musty from sitting in the back of my closet for so long.”

“Oh, shut up,” you huff, walking over to him and grabbing the cloth out of his hand. “I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

He only raises a single eyebrow at you.

That’s what prompts you to sniff at it. At his goddamn shirt. Like you’re one of those police dogs they use to find missing people.

It… doesn’t smell unpleasant. A little bit musty, like Mingyu said, but that can be attributed to him not wearing it often. Mostly, it smells of faint fabric softener and deodorant—and underneath it all, a scent that is solely Mingyu’s. (Pine and citrus and lavender, all mixed together, in a way that only Mingyu can pull off.)

“It smells fine,” you say, shoving it into Mingyu’s chest. “You’re being dramatic.”

“I’m not the one who grabbed it and shoved my face into it,” he says, “so who’s the real dramatic one here?”

“I didn’t shove my face into it!” You swat at his shoulder, but he laughs and dodges, eyes twinkling with playfulness.

“If you say so,” he returns, still chuckling to himself.

“When is this event?”

“Tomorrow evening,” he answers.

“Both of us won’t be at home then,” you say, and he raises an eyebrow. “I… have a date tomorrow,” you explain, and regret it almost instantly. Why are you even telling him that? He doesn’t need to know.

“Oh,” is all he says, followed by a quieter, “Have fun.”

EIGHT

Seokmin picks you up at exactly six o’clock, wearing a loose button down shirt and slacks, and his hair styled carefully. He perks up as soon as you wave at him, jogging over to you with a smile.

“Hey,” he greets you. “You look good.”

You return his smile, tugging at the edge of your blouse and smoothing out your skirt. “Thank you. So do you.”

Seokmin’s grin brightens, which you didn’t even think was possible. “Thanks,” he says, and then gently takes hold of your elbow. “So… the plan for today is to take you out for dinner, and then a movie. How does that sound?”

“It sounds… good,” you say, letting him lead the way. It’s basic, yes, but you’re a firm believer in clichés—there’s a reason they become popular, after all.

He doesn’t stop talking, and neither do you. Throughout the entire half an hour dinner in some hole-in-the-wall diner that Seokmin discovered a month ago and serves the best blue lemonade mojitos you’ve ever tasted, and the entire two hour movie that’s way too boring for you to focus on the screen anyway, you and your co-worker keep up an endless stream of banter and silly anecdotes and you find yourself enjoying it more than you thought you would.

It’s refreshing, and when you and Seokmin finally make the walk back to your apartment, you find it difficult to let go of his hand. He pulls you to a stop in front of the building, rubbing his thumb gently across the back of your hand.

His smile is as bright as ever, albeit tinged with slight disappointment. “So. I’ll see you on Monday, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you confirm, nodding. “Thank you for today, Seokmin. I had a lot of fun.”

“Me too,” he returns. “Listen, I—”

He’s interrupted by someone stumbling across the sidewalk—not someone, you realise. It’s two people, tightly coiled around each other in a manner that is entirely indecent for the public eye. But as they trip around one another—still holding each other tightly—your heart sinks deep into the pit of your stomach.

One of them is Mingyu.

The other person is some girl, hair falling loosely across her face, Mingyu’s fingers tangled into her tresses, while his other hand bunches up the material of her dress at her waist. They kiss and kiss and kiss, and you don’t tear your eyes away until Seokmin makes a noise of disgust.

He turns around, blocking your view of them and takes both your hands in his. “I… I’ll call you. Okay?”

You nod numbly. “Okay.”

Seokmin leaves with a bright smile and a lingering kiss on your cheek. You plaster a smile onto your lips until he moves out of your line of sight, after which you begin the arduous trek back to your—Mingyu’s—apartment. Normally, the three floors you climb aren’t much of a strenuous task; tonight, however, every step you take makes you feel like your legs are made of lead.

You fumble in your purse for your key, the image of Mingyu kissing that girl not leaving your mind. It’s not supposed to hurt, you’re not supposed to be bothered by it. But it stings, like the biting cold on a freezing winter morning, making your fingers stiff and your ears chilly.

You hear footsteps right when you twist the key into the lock.

The last thing you see before you enter the apartment is Mingyu clambering up the staircase, clearly drunk but surprisingly upright. He has a lipstick stain leading from the corner of his mouth to his cheek, his hair is tousled—no doubt from someone running their hands through his silky locks—and his shirt is untucked and wrinkled.

He opens his mouth to say something, but you grab the door handle and step inside, because the last thing you want to confront is the fact that your feelings for Kim Mingyu might not be as forgotten as you believe.

Which is fine, all things considered, except Kim Mingyu doesn’t give a damn.

You let the door slam shut behind you before Mingyu can get in. Technically, it’s his house. Technically, he’s the one who has the right to lock you out.

Technically, you’re acting like a child throwing a tantrum, and technically, Mingyu is allowed to kiss whomever the fuck he wants.

You wish Jihyo was here. She would ground you, make you see everything calmly and rationally. But she’s been having boy problems of her own (Jeong Jaehyun, who is decidedly not as romantic as Jihyo was led to believe), and the last thing you want is to dump your boy problems on her.

Besides, it’s no big deal. Right?

Mingyu lives here. He should have his own copy of the keys. He’s also drunk. (Drunk and half-laid, your mind helpfully reminds.)

Before you start overthinking about letting the door close behind you, you decide that what you really need is a warm shower. So you let your feet lead you to the bathroom directly, and don’t allow thoughts of ex-boyfriends and overly friendly co-workers to enter your brain.

You don’t hear the sound of keys turning in the lock the entire night, but you shove down the guilt that bubbles up your throat. It’s Mingyu’s fault for not carrying them with him wherever he goes; you’re not his caretaker, anyway.

Your phone pings with a text message from Seokmin, and you pick it up.

(19:47) Seokmin: I had a great time today. Thanks for coming with me :)

Despite the fact that you only have a towel wrapped around your body, and the fact that your hair is dripping wet, you feel a tingling warmth creep up your chest.

NINE

Monday is a horrible day.

You woke up half an hour later than usual, which led to you rushing through your morning routine. Your clothes aren’t ironed, which is fine usually, but the shirt you pick doesn’t tuck in quite right and you don’t have the time to change it. You almost tripped over the curb in your rush to get to work and nearly spilled a cup of coffee—which is far too sweet for your liking, due to the dollop of sugar you added by accident—all over yourself. Your manager, Choi Seungcheol, doesn’t approve of the project portfolio you compiled, and the deadline is fast approaching, which means more late nights for you.

And to top it all off, your car engine won’t fucking start.

You’re really not in the mood for Seokmin and his exuberant enthusiasm, which is something he probably catches onto, considering the fact that he stands silently next to you, waiting for you to finish cursing the piece of metal you call a car. Once you’re done resisting the urge to burn down the automobile, Seokmin places a placating hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he soothes, training a concerned gaze over your figure. “I can drop you back home.”

“No, it’s fine,” you mutter sullenly. “I’ll just call a cab or something.”

“Y/N, please. It’s no trouble.” He pauses, and you glance at him, at the sympathetic crease of his forehead and the genuinity reflected in his eyes. It’s touching, and Seokmin flashes you a small smile. “I was gonna head over that way anyway—I wanted to get some stuff from that bakery we went to.”

“I—” You hesitate, and he takes the chance to slide in.

“You call the mechanic. I’ll wait for you in my car, okay?”

He scurries away, leaving you biting your lip and staring at your phone. You should probably call Mingyu; he can help. Knowing him, he would probably want to help, regardless of who was asking him. Instead, you search up the nearest mechanic shop and dial in their number, giving them the details of where you are. They arrive a couple of minutes later, and you watch as they hook your car onto their big tow truck and drive away.

Seokmin waves you over to his car, a sleek Hyundai that's probably a few years old but still looks brand new. He opens the door to the passenger seat with a smile before grabbing the stack of folders you had kept clutched to your chest. You let him take them. You’re far too tired to argue.

Briefly, your mind wanders to Mingyu—what he would do if you had told him. Probably run all the way here, your brain supplies, prompting a wry smile to form on your lips. You press them together when you think of Mingyu with that girl immediately afterwards.

The drive to your house is silent, only the rumble of Seokmin’s car and the soft noise of some interview playing on the radio filling the silence. He pulls to a stop near your apartment, bundles up your work folders in his arms and gestures for you to lead the way to your flat.

The door swings open before you get the chance to pull out your key. Mingyu stands opposite you, dishevelled—just woken up from a nap, it seems. His mouth parts when he sees Seokmin standing behind you.

“Who’s this?” he asks by way of greeting.

You shift uncomfortably, wanting to say something, but the words stick to your throat like you’ve swallowed chewing gum. Seokmin reaches out from next to you, and you don’t need to see him to know he’s positively beaming.

“Hi, I’m Seokmin,” he says. “I work with Y/N.”

Mingyu shakes his hand, eyes roaming quizzically between you and Seokmin. “Nice to meet you,” he says distractedly. “I’m Mingyu, Y/N’s… roommate. And ex—”

“Come on in, Seokmin.” You glare at Mingyu. He only raises an eyebrow in retaliation. Seokmin coughs slightly, blows out a puff of air, and follows you inside.

“You can just…” You wave your hand around vaguely. Gritting your teeth does nothing to bring you out of your haze. It only exacerbates it.

“Did something happen?” Mingyu moves aside, but you feel his eyes on the back of your neck.

“Y/N’s car broke down,” Seokmin supplies. “It’s at the mechanic’s right now, so I offered to drop her back home.”

“I see.” His next statement is directed at you. “You could’ve called me. I would have come.”

It’s only then that you turn around and face him. He doesn’t move, gaze locked unwaveringly on your hunched-over figure. It’s almost like he’s challenging you to say something.

“I know that,” is all you say, voice low.

Mingyu nods. “Good.”

You avert your attention to Seokmin. He appears lost, gaping at both of you as though he can’t quite catch onto what’s going on. “Let’s go to my room, Seokmin. You can leave my stuff there.”

“Okay.” Seokmin nods, giving Mingyu a hesitant smile. “It was nice meeting you, Mingyu.”

“You too.”

It’s a tiny exchange, but it’s enough to cause a fissure inside your heart. Seokmin is always so nice. He gives out niceness like he’s handing out free candy to toddlers. The only time you’ve ever seen him get remotely angry was when another co-worker of yours forgot a pen drive containing a crucial presentation to an important client—even then, all he did was level a glare at her before calmly asking for a backup drive to be brought.

Mingyu, on the other hand, is like a burning ember. Calm one minute, and angry the next—and it’s the reason you love him, but it’s also the reason you broke things off. You and Mingyu are far too similar, hot-headed and careless to a fault, like two candle flames competing to see who can burn their wick the fastest. You didn’t burn the wick. You ended up burning each other instead. Let it not be said that playing with fire isn’t one of your specialties.

Seokmin lets out a breath that sounds like a huff and a sigh simultaneously as soon as he enters your room. “You can leave the stuff here,” you say, pointing at your desk.

He obliges, carefully placing the stack on the table. “That’s your roommate, huh? Y’know, when you said that you were living with someone you didn’t like, I didn’t think you meant your ex-boyfriend.”

You look away, biting the inside of your cheek. “It’s… difficult. I needed a place to live and he was the only person who offered on short notice. It just happened.”

Seokmin nods understandingly, lips pursed in thought. “He seems like a nice guy.”

“He is,” you agree. “One of the nicest people I know.”

“Yeah?” Your co-worker lifts one corner of his lips in an amused half-smile. “What does that make me?”

The answer is on the tip of your tongue. You know Seokmin is expecting it. Hell, you’re expecting the words to just come out. The nicest guy of them all. That’s all you have to say.

“You’re… Lee Seokmin.”

The words are flat on your tongue. Seokmin’s expression falls—just the tiniest bit, a crack in the foundation—but you feel a terrible weight in your stomach, pulling you down, down, down until your head sinks below the surface of the metaphorical waves and the water erases your existence.

Seokmin is a nice guy—you know that, and you’ve reiterated it so many times. The only thing stopping you from being in a proper relationship with him is your ex-boyfriend, only separated from you by a wooden door and cement walls. Mingyu doesn’t like you anymore, not in the way he used to, and it’s clearly time for you to stop dwelling on what you had.

You swallow, looking at Seokmin directly. “And…” You take a step closer to him. “I consider myself lucky to have met you.”

Seokmin looks at you, his gaze unsteady, but he takes one of your hands in his. “Yeah?” His throat bobs when he speaks, and that’s how you know he’s nervous.

“Yeah,” you confirm, letting his fingers slip in between yours.

He shuffles closer to you, and you can smell his woody cologne intermingled with sweat. You can count the moles on his face, see your reflection in his pupils.

“Y/N, I really want to kiss—”

There’s a knock on your door, and you and Seokmin jump away from each other like a pair of schoolchildren getting caught doing something you’re not supposed to. Seokmin looks down at his feet; you clear your throat before letting out a hoarse, “Yes?”

“You left your phone outside,” Mingyu calls. “The mechanic just called.”

“Oh, um. I’ll be right there.” You turn back to Seokmin, cheeks burning with embarrassment. Of all possible times for Mingyu to be a cockblocker, why now? “S-sorry about that.”

“No, it’s—you’re fine,” he stammers out, clearly as out of it as you are. “I should probably leave too, I still need to stop by the bakery.”

“Oh, yeah!” you say. “I forgot. Do you want me to come with you?”

“It’s alright,” he says. “It’s getting dark outside and you need to get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow, ‘kay?”

“Okay,” you murmur. “Thank you for today, Seokmin. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

“Cursed your car to oblivion, probably,” he teases.

You flush, heat creeping up the back of your neck and ears. “That—you didn’t have to see that.”

“I thought it was cute,” he returns easily, corners of his lips twitching.

Against your will, your lips twitch upwards too. “Okay, okay, I get it.”

Seokmin opens your door, and you follow him out of your room. He gives Mingyu a grin, says, “See you around,” and lets you close the door behind him.

Mingyu crosses his arms over his chest. You glance at him. His eyebrows are knotted together, lips pressed into a stoic line. You bite the inside of your cheek, suddenly feeling awkward.

“Hey,” he begins, voice soft, “is that… your boyfriend?”

You raise your eyebrows. “Does it matter?”

He huffs, shifting from one foot to the other. “Yes—no. No, it doesn’t matter. I was just curious, okay?”

You open your mouth, then close it, at a loss for words. Are you and Seokmin together? Not really. Both of you haven’t done or said anything to define your relationship—if there is one in the romantic sense, at least. Seokmin wanted to kiss you, but Mingyu interrupted before anything could even happen—it’s your irritation at the day being shitty, and Mingyu being an asshole after everything he did that makes you roll your eyes at him and snap at him. “It’s none of your business.”

Mingyu’s face turns stony, a hardness to his features that you’ve only seen a few times before—it was directed at you the last time, too. “Okay. Fine. Sorry I asked.”

“Are you?” you retort, and before he can say anything to retaliate, you storm back into your room and lock the door.

Your heart feels like it’s been split into two, one half yearning for the comfort and familiarity that comes with still liking Mingyu, and the other excited to explore what Seokmin could offer you—and what he already has offered. But for now, you decide to get some sleep. Your heart can wait.

TEN

Jihyo is back.

Jihyo is fucking back, and she’s standing in your—Mingyu’s—living room, arms wide open and a grin on her lips so wide, her eyes crinkle in the corners. It takes all of your willpower not to launch yourself into her arms. Instead, you slow down, toe your shoes off, let your bag drop to the floor, and then launch yourself into her arms.

She laughs at your overzealous demeanour, and you giggle into her hair. God, you’d missed her. Texting every day and video calling every weekend can only do so much, and it’s nothing compared to seeing her in person.

“Hi,” she says, pulling back enough to escape your cage-like hold around her body.

“Hi,” you greet back, smiling so wide and so hard, you can feel your ears pop. “You’re back.”

“I’m back.” She confirms your statement by nodding. “Only for a week, though.”

“Ah.”

Your best friend lets out a sheepish chuckle, and you take a step back. Her suitcase is on the floor next to her, and she’s kept her backpack on the sofa. “Are you gonna stay here?” you ask.

She winces. “No, there isn’t much space here. I booked a room at a hotel nearby. It’s, like, ten minutes by walk from here and it’s not very expensive either,” she assures.

“Okay,” you say, a little deflated. If Jihyo stayed with you, at least the awkwardness between you and Mingyu might be reduced by a small fraction. Her overbearing nature and ability to make conversation with literally anyone would be a lifesaver, given the situation you’ve dug yourself into.

A situation that she knows nothing about.

You haven’t had the time to keep Jihyo updated about the latest turn of events—not when she was busy juggling a relationship with her sort-of boyfriend, Jeong Jaehyun. She doesn’t know about Seokmin, and she doesn’t know about your lingering feelings for Mingyu.

“Hey, you’re back already.”

Speak of the devil.

You turn around and find Mingyu leaning against the doorway, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans. You feel your breath hitch. He continues, “I guess Jihyo already beat me to it, huh?”

“You knew she was coming?” you ask him, almost accusatory.

“You didn’t tell her?” Jihyo echos, a curious tinge to her tone.

He lifts his shoulder in a half-shrug, lips twitching with the beginnings of a smile. “Wanted to surprise you, that’s all.”

Against your will, you find yourself grinning at him. Mingyu dissolves in the slightest—a small hint of surprise—before he grins back at you, teeth flashing and eyes crinkling. Jihyo lets out a small huff from next to you, but you know nothing can put a damper on your mood right now. Not even your resurfaced feelings for Mingyu, nor your newfound ones for Seokmin.

Your best friend squeezes your arm. “I have some time before I need to check in at the hotel. Do you wanna check out our old place?”

You turn to her and nod. The prospect of going back to the place where you created cherished memories with someone so dear to you is enticing; then you remember your car is still at the mechanic’s. “My car is out of commission.”

Jihyo only turns and stares at Mingyu. He sighs resignedly, pushing himself off the doorway and heading inside his room. “Let me grab my keys.”

“Might as well stop for ice cream along the way,” Jihyo calls out gleefully to his retreating back.

You gulp. This… might not be a good idea. If Mingyu tags along with you, this would be the first time since last week where you’re speaking to him normally, making conversation that isn’t just along the lines of “Did you do the laundry?” or “I bought some vegetables”. Of course, if you told Jihyo what happened, she would immediately make sure Mingyu doesn’t come. You chew on your bottom lip, but before you can come to a decision, Mingyu emerges from his bedroom, car keys dangling off his fingers.

“Ready?” he asks.

Jihyo grabs onto your arm, excitement so visible on her face that it prompts the tension in your own features to melt away. You let yourself get carried away by her giddiness, not noticing the fond glances the only male in the group keeps giving you whenever he’s sure you’re not looking. If you’d met his eyes once throughout the drive to your old place, you’d see the way his eyes still twinkle at you with the same intensity as they did months ago, but you’re too busy catching up with Jihyo to notice.

Mingyu pulls to a stop in front of your old apartment building—a dilapidated structure that’s not half as modern as the current building you stay in. At least the elevator is still functioning; you purse your lips to contain your laugh when Mingyu looks at it, eyebrows raised in visible astonishment. Jihyo grips your hand tightly when you reach your floor. You tighten your hold on her hand as well, feeling a sudden burst of emotion erupt inside your chest like lava escaping from a volcano.

You and Jihyo round the corner to the apartment that used to be yours, Mingyu following closely. The door is the same dull brown it was back then as well, but someone has put in the effort to redo the varnish. There’s a potted fern next to it as well.

You let out a shuddering breath. Jihyo wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you close; you aren’t sure if it’s just the wind rattling through the open window, but you hear something like a sniffle.

This is the place you lived in when you had your first boyfriend, when you had your first heartbreak, when you cried your lungs out at some stupid TV show that you were invested in at the time but can’t possibly remember the name of now. This is the place where you and Jihyo bonded over crappy supermarket deals and made a mess of the kitchen whenever you tried to learn how to cook something new.

This is the place where you first met Kim Mingyu.

You tilt your head at him, watch as he stares resolutely ahead of him, like if glares at it strongly enough, he can bore two holes straight through the wood. Eventually, his eyes land on yours.

His lips part but no words come out. He offers you a small smile instead, one so tender and heart-warming and achingly familiar. You blink, and the moment is gone. You’re left with the same sense of wistfulness and longing that you always feel around him.

Jihyo squeezes your shoulder, eyes shining. “Should we ring the bell?” she asks, and then presses the doorbell before you can respond.

A muffled “Coming!” from inside, and the latch is pulled open to reveal a college student—a few years younger than you, perhaps, with sleep bags underneath his eyes and a cup of coffee clutched to his chest. He looks confused—as anyone would be, you suppose, when you see a random bunch of strangers standing on your doorstep—but his expression clears when Jihyo explains who you are and why you’re here.

He says he’s living here with his boyfriend and their pet cat—a beautiful Siberian who coils itself around his legs, tail upturned—and you feel your heart swell with the knowledge that your old haven is being taken care of well. Jihyo consistently badgers him with questions and he answers each one patiently, to his credit.

A flicker of uncertainty crosses your mind, however. Does Mingyu not remember this? He was looking for apartments in this building, too, when you met him. Doesn’t he remember the old landlady conversing with you? Doesn’t he remember the way people constantly asked if you two were together, which is what even prompted him to ask for your number in the first place?

You’re shaken out of your thoughts when you feel a slight pressure on your shoulder. Mingyu’s hand is on your shoulder. Your gaze flits over to him.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, ducking his head. “There was a mosquito.”

He’s lying.

He remembers.

ELEVEN

“Spill.”

“The… tea?” you ask cautiously, looking at Jihyo. She’s holding a steaming mug of tea in her hand.

“You think you’re so funny.” She rolls her eyes.

“I know I am,” you quip, and she rolls her eyes again, taking a sip of the beverage.

“You’ve been distracted since yesterday,” she states matter-of-factly. “Since we went to our old place.” Her voice quietens, “Is it Mingyu? Did he do something?”

You eye her warily, sitting down on the plush armchair opposite her. “No,” you say.

“Then what is it? Did—did you not want me here?”

“No.” You’re quick to alleviate her concerns. “Of fucking course I wanted you here. I missed you. So much.”

Your best friend smiles at that, swirling the tea in the mug. “But something’s bothering you.”

“...Yes.” You admit it slowly, playing with your fingers splayed out on your lap. “It’s not important. You’re here only for a few days, we should do something fun.”

“Y/N,” Jihyo says slowly, enunciating every syllable of your name like she’s speaking to a troublesome child, “if you’re worried about me feeling bad or anything, please don’t. I want to help you.”

You wave her away. “You have your own shit to deal with.”

“What, you mean Jaehyun?” She snorts. “I’m over him. I was over him ages ago.”

“Are you sure?”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing. Just.” You look down at your feet. “You really liked him, didn’t you?”

Jihyo cocks her head to the side, studying you carefully. “Yes. I did. What about it?”

Your shoulder slump, dejectedness seeping into your figure. “How… did you do it?” You glance up at her, note the way she observes you carefully. Your voice is almost pleading when you continue, “How did you get over him?”

Your best friend’s expression clears, comprehension dawning on her face. She places her mug down, leaning forward and clasping your hand with hers. “It’s Mingyu, isn’t it?”

You shake your head miserably. “Not just him.”

“There’s someone else?” She doesn’t sound surprised, only intrigued and concerned.

You take a deep breath, lock gazes with her—and everything comes spilling out of your mouth like the tide receding into the ocean. You tell her everything, about Mingyu and Seokmin and how conflicted they make you feel; how one is like the living personification of sunlight on a gloomy day, and the other reminds you of clouds providing shade on a hot afternoon. You tell her about how guilty you feel, as though you’re leading Seokmin to believe that you’re ready for a committed relationship when a part of your heart still belongs to Mingyu. You speak until the words end up garbled and slurred, and your breathing turns heavy and salt water streaks across your cheeks, your best friend rubbing them away with the pad of her thumb.

When you don’t know what to say, Jihyo pulls you into a hug—it’s an awkward position, your elbows locked around her arms while your neck is bent at an odd angle, but it’s comforting, and you let your eyes close tiredly.

“Y/N,” she says, rubbing her thumb on your shoulder soothingly. “I know it’s hard for you to decide, but you have to know: What do you want?”

The question makes you contemplate. What do you want?

“I don’t know,” is all you can get out, slumping further into her arms.

She hums softly. “But you’ll figure it out. I know you will.”

Will you? You’re not so sure. Maybe when the time is right. But for now, you rest your chin on your best friend’s shoulder and let her rub circles onto your skin.

You pull back when the position becomes too uncomfortable—you can already feel a crick in your neck—and Jihyo wraps her fingers around her discarded mug. She raises it in a half-hearted toast. “To sexy girls who don’t need men in their lives.”

You giggle, rubbing your eyes. “Men are pieces of shit, anyway.”

“Damn right they are,” she croons, falling dramatically back onto the couch. “We should just get married instead.”

“If you propose to me the right way, maybe I’ll consider it.”

Jihyo grins at you, and it’s infectious enough to make you grin back at her. “Consider it done,” she says. “I have a ring in my nightstand drawer with your name written on it.”

“If it’s not pure diamond, I won’t accept.”

“Tsk. So greedy.”

TWELVE

Introducing Seokmin to Jihyo was not a part of your agenda for the week.

But it’s Seokmin and it’s Jihyo, so really, what else did you expect? Both of them integrated themselves seamlessly into your life, and they have no plans of leaving anytime soon. Might as well get the introductions over with.

Ironically, it happens when you go to collect your car from the mechanic’s, and once they’ve exchanged names and small talk, Jihyo and Seokmin are inseparable. The former regals him with tales of your college shenanigans, while the latter listens enthusiastically, eyes flitting between you both amusedly.

“Okay, that’s enough,” you hurriedly interrupt the conversation, right before Jihyo can go into the messy details of how you wanted to marry the toilet when you were drunk once and Mingyu had to physically carry you out of the house because you were convinced the white ceramic was proposing to you.

“You and Mingyu were together for a long time, huh?” Seokmin asks you quietly, once Jihyo is finished with her sulking at you interrupting her story. She’s at the side, conversing with someone on the phone, leaving you and your co-worker alone in front of your car.

You’re so startled by the question, you nearly drop your keys. “I—why do you ask?”

Seokmin licks his lips, a seriousness to his figure that you haven’t witnessed many times before. “Just… curious, I suppose.”

You look down once, see how he’s twisted his fingers together—even the Lee Seokmin gets nervous, after all—and look back up at him. “Yes,” you admit softly, voice hitching slightly, “we were. We… were in love, I guess you could say.”

He’s silent for a minute, tongue darting out to lick his lips again. “And now?”

“I don’t know, Seokmin,” you answer him honestly. Your heart flutters inside your chest, while your stomach twists into tight knots—two reactions you didn’t think would go hand-in-hand, yet here you are, leaving your heart bare for Seokmin to take while gatekeeping a part of it to yourself.

He raises his head, warm eyes capturing yours. You see the smallest flicker of hope and sadness, two thin wisps of emotion dancing in his eyes—but even then, his lips are turned upwards, because it’s Lee Seokmin.

“But you could try?” he asks, so softly you can barely catch the words.

You push down the emotions that threaten to swallow you whole, swirling around your entire body like the blood that flows through your veins. “I don’t know,” you say again, no less honest than the first time.

He opens his mouth, but Jihyo walks back to you both, mouth downturned. “My company said they need me back as soon as possible.” She says it calmly, but disappointment and bitterness seep into her voice.

For a moment, you freeze, and then ask, “When do you need to leave?”

“Tomorrow,” she answers with an apologetic shrug of her shoulders. “They’ve already booked the flight.”

“Okay.” You nod. “I’ll drop you to the airport.”

“I’ll come with,” Seokmin chimes in, and adds, in true Seokmin fashion, “Make sure Y/N doesn’t drive us all into a ditch or something.”

You shove his shoulder, muttering an “asshole” under your breath, and his smile only widens. Jihyo glances in between you both, lower lip caught between her teeth, before she sucks in a breath and smiles. “Good to know my best friend is in good hands.”

“The best hands, actually,” Seokmin teasingly corrects.

You roll your eyes at the two of them. “Can we go home now, or not?”

“Home it is,” Jihyo agrees, “but first, I demand Taco Bell.”

“Fine,” you concede, letting her grab the keys from your outstretched palm.

Seokmin grabs your hand once she clambers into your fixed car. His palm is broad, skin warm, and his fingers wrap around yours with ease. He squeezes your hand once, gently, and it feels like a promise and a farewell at the same time.

Seokmin asks you out again three days after Jihyo leaves.

This time, he takes you out to an Italian restaurant. He’s dressed up in a suit and a bowtie—and actual blue velvet bowtie that sits snugly at the hollow of his neck—and he’s the perfect gentleman, pulling your chair out for you and pouring champagne into your glass like a professional. (When you compliment him on his drink-pouring skills, he just mutters bashfully about how his dad taught him that to please a lady, you need to be good at pouring drinks; it does nothing to ease the quickening pace of your heart.)

Lee Seokmin compliments your dress, says that that specific shade of pink looks beautiful on you. He recommends you try out their vegetable lasagne, says it’s one of the dishes the restaurant is famous for. He laughs about his favourite show, tells you he would love to rewatch it with you someday. He asks if you like gardens because his neighbour is trying to convince him to grow a rosebush outside his house, but he can’t look after plants even if his life depended on it. He wants to go out for ice cream afterwards, but the night is too chilly for the cold dessert so you opt against it.

Throughout, you play someone who’s on her first date, who thinks this is all there is and everything she’s been dreaming of has come true.

You would like to think you’re a good actor.

Kim Mingyu has seen you in nothing but sweatpants and old t-shirts and he used to whisper praises against your skin, flushed with sweat and sweet words. He ate the shitty lasagne you made without complaining, no matter how bad it tasted. He watched whatever was playing on television with you, just because he enjoyed your company and wanted to be wherever you were. He’s not particularly good with plants, but he has a little succulent named Spurt, making sure it gets enough sunlight and water. He likes mint chocolate ice cream, and would defend the flavour with his life.

Kim Mingyu and Lee Seokmin: Two sides of the same coin.

Jihyo’s question resonates in your mind as you and Seokmin walk back to your car.

What do you want?

As you near your vehicle, Seokmin puts a gentle hand on your arm. “Y/N,” is all he says, and you hate the way your chest clenches at that—just because he said your name.

“Did you have fun today?” he continues, eyes roaming over your features like he’s committing you to memory. Like a soldier leaving his wife before he heads out to the frontlines.

“I did, Seokmin. I really did.” You place your hand over his, tracing the veins on the back of his hand, pressing lightly on his knuckles; you need him to know that you truly enjoyed today—desperate for him to know, because it’s the least you can do for him after everything he’s done for you.

“Good,” he says. “I—I had fun today with you, too. I always have fun when I’m with you, Y/N.”

He bends down. You can feel his breath fan out on the shell of your ear and it makes you shiver. He turns his head, and his lips brush against your cheek. A small, soft farewell.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t—” you begin, feeling your voice begin to wobble.

“Don’t be sorry,” Seokmin whispers, but he sounds firm. “We’re still friends.”

Your heart plummets deep, deep down, a free fall that isn’t orchestrated by gravity. You think you know the answer to Jihyo’s question now.

“Thank you,” you whisper back to Seokmin.

THIRTEEN

The light is on when you enter the apartment. Mingyu’s figure lies hunched on the sofa, head in his hands, a half-empty beer can next to him. You quickly shuck off your heels and drop your purse onto the shoe rack.

Your ex-boyfriend looks at you when pad over to the living room. “You’re back.” He sounds hoarse, tired.

“Have you been drinking?” you say in return, raising an eyebrow.

Mingyu glances at the can in his hand then back at you. “Yeah. Long day.”

“Me too,” you admit quietly.

Perhaps it’s the quiet ambience of your shared home—silent, despite the noise of the city outside—that compels him; or maybe it’s the idea of coming home to someone you think you know better than the back of your own hand. Either way, when Mingyu pats the cushion beside him, your feet move automatically and you sit down, letting out a weary sigh.

It’s quiet, but not in the awkward sense. Not like back then, when Mingyu thought you and Seokmin were dating. Not even when you visited your old apartment. Exhaustion makes its home in your bones, and you suspect it’s taken over Mingyu too; there’s no way this shared piece of night can be so comfortable otherwise.

“Want some?” he asks after a few minutes.

“No thanks.”

Mingyu shrugs and puts the can down on the coffee table. “Wanna talk about it?” He leans back against the sofa, arms crossed behind his head.

“No,” you answer, and then, “Do you?”

“No.” He clears his throat, glancing sideways at you. “Were you with… Seokmin?”

“...Yes.”

You don’t have to look at Mingyu to know he’s clenching his jaw. It’s a pure rush of adrenaline that makes you ask, “Why does it bother you so much whenever I’m with him?”

Silence.

You turn your head, cheek brushing against the back of the sofa. Mingyu’s eyes are closed, hair falling in loose strands around his forehead and neck. You wonder what he’s thinking.

His answer excites you—in the rawest form possible. Anticipation builds up in your chest, threatens to explode through your windpipe. You don’t know what he’s thinking, but when he opens his eyes and meets your gaze, there is nothing you can do to stop your heart from rabbiting inside your rib cage.

“It doesn’t,” he says finally, an air of decisiveness about him.

For the second time that night, your heart plummets, and you tear your eyes off him. “Okay,” you say. “That is, um, good information to have.”

“Isn’t he your boyfriend?”

“How does it matter to you?”

Mingyu crosses and uncrosses his ankles, this time staring resolutely at the floor. “I don’t know. It just does.”

You purse your lips. He isn’t being fair to you. “What about you?” you demand. “What about that girl you almost brought back home, huh?”

His mouth twitches. “You saw that.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement.

“I’m not blind, Mingyu,” you retort.

Your roommate lets out a sardonic chuckle at that, slowly dragging his eyes up. “I highly doubt that.”

“What do you mean?” You scowl at him, feeling your chest begin to heave. “You—you’re like some kind of a riddle, Mingyu. I can never tell what you mean by anything, and it’s even worse now that you’re drunk and—”

“I’m not drunk, Y/N,” he interrupts.

“I don’t care if you’re drunk or not—” you don’t realise your voice is caving in, growing softer and softer by the second— “stop saying things you don’t mean.”

“I want to kiss you,” he says finally. “I want to kiss you and I may be slightly drunk, but I don’t fucking care. And I mean it.”

You swallow, blood pounding through your veins. “Say that again.”

“What?” he says, sounding genuinely confused. His gaze never leaves your face, every ounce of earnestness and honesty written plainly on his features.

“Say it again,” you repeat.

“I want—”

You surge forward, capturing his lips with yours, pressing them firmly against his even when he lets out a muffled gasp. He doesn’t kiss back immediately, but his hands find their way to your waist, gripping tightly and crumpling the flimsy material of your dress. He kisses you back then, mouth jutting insistently into yours, tongue sliding against your lower lip. You arch your back, scramble to find some balance in this precarious position, and your hands end up tangled in his hair. He tastes like beer and aftershave and something that’s so distinctly Mingyu, you want more.

You pull away when air becomes a necessity, blinking even as Mingyu’s arms pull you closer to him.

“This isn’t over,” you manage to get out in between huffed breaths.

“Tomorrow,” he promises, but his eyes are glazed. He looks at you like a man starved, and tilts his head and kisses you again, kisses you like he might never see you again.

You let him. It’s Kim Mingyu, after all, and you’ve always been a little weak for him.

You don’t think of Seokmin; don’t let him come out of the tiny pocket you’ve preserved in your heart just for him. Instead, you wrap your arms around your ex-boyfriend’s neck, leaning into his chest and kissing him back with equal fervour, letting him know that you need him as much as he needs you.

God, you’d missed him. Way more than you thought. You’ve memorised his touch, branded it into your mind, but it still feels new. Like the first time you were with him, kissing like two teenagers with reckless abandon.

His cold fingers find their way underneath your waist, hitching up the loose material of your dress around your thighs. You kneel on the couch cushions in front of him, almost straddling his lap but not quite. His fingers brush against your sides in a way that sends shivers down your spine.

He nips at your lip, asking for entrance to your mouth to which you accept, parting your lips enough for him to get a taste. As he moves his tongue around yours, exploring your mouth in every way possible, you can’t contain the slight whimper that escapes your throat.

Mingyu groans, leaning his weight onto you as you both start moving together until you’re laid flat against the couch. He’s impatient, you can tell; his fingers dig into your skin, and he groans again when you bite down gently on his lower lip. He pulls back and moves downwards, kissing your jaw and behind your ear, suckling gently on a sensitive bit of skin with expertise. “Tell me to stop,” he says, whispering the words against your skin.

All you do is moan in response, rubbing your thighs together to get some friction with the way he’s moving his mouth against your skin.

“Tell me to stop,” he says again, more firmly this time.

“Shut the fuck up, Gyu,” is all you reply with, the nickname falling out of your lips with familiarity.

Maybe it’s the use of something that used to be your thing—something the two of you shared, the shortened version of his name—but hearing it come out of your lips again does things to Mingyu that he isn’t sure he’d ever be able to put into words for you. Trailing his movements down to your neck, he stops at your chest, a small smile spreading on his face. “Forgot how much I loved it when you called me that.”

Looking down at him, you hadn’t realised he’s moved further down your body and his fingers trace the edges of your underwear. Your dress is bunched up above your thighs, skin exposed to the cool air. “Gonna make you feel so good,” he mumbles, pressing a tiny kiss to the inside of your thighs. He toys with the elastic of the waistband, chuckling when you shoot him an irritated glare.

He stares down at your clothed core, mouth watering while his hands move faster than you can comprehend. It takes him two seconds to hook his slender fingers underneath the waistband of your panties before he pulls them down to your ankles and tosses them onto the coffee table.

You feel a wave of shyness overcome you—with the way he’s looking at you, desperate for your taste—and you try to close your legs, before his hands land on your thighs, halting your actions. “So pretty,” he murmurs. “I want to see all of you.”

Heat burns your cheeks and flows through your body. You turn your head to avoid his burning gaze as you feel him part your legs. He readjusts himself, laying as flat and comfortably as he can with what little space he has on the couch until he’s face-to-face with where you need him most. He tests the waters, leaning in with his tongue out, letting it graze your clit. You stifle a moan, biting your lip so hard, you think it might bleed.

He smiles, loving how you’re holding back. “So quiet, baby. Wanna remember how I used to make you feel.” Laying his tongue flat against your clit, he gives you slow and soft strokes—so gentle that it drives you insane.

“You’re such—such a tease,” you gasp out, right when he swirls his tongue around the nub.

Mingyu only raises an eyebrow at that. “You haven’t changed.” But all the same, any plans he had to be patient with you go straight out the window; he wraps his arms around your thighs to pull you down further to his face. The sudden pull surprises you, and you gasp a little while searching for something to grab onto. He indulges in your pussy, tongue exploring your pulsating hole that clenches around everything and nothing all at once. He relishes in the way you feel on his tongue, groaning against your folds while bringing a hand up and rubbing his thumb on your neglected clit.

You’re a mess under his touch, squirming on the sofa, loud groans and soft mewls escaping your lips wantonly. Your fingers find their way into his soft locks, pulling gently on his hair and scratching against his scalp. He lets out a moan against your pussy, lapping at your juices as if you’re his last source of water. “F-fuck, Gyu, ‘m gonna—” a gasp— “‘m gonna cum.”

This only encourages him to work his mouth harder, wanting to watch you fall apart just by his mouth alone. You tug harder at his hair, moans growing louder and more desperate by the second, and your thighs shudder around his head, feeling the rush of your high come so close, you aren’t prepared for it.

With two final sucks to your clit, you come undone on his tongue followed by a string of moans with broken pieces of his name somewhere in between. Mingyu looks up at you with bright eyes and a satisfied grin, as if he didn’t just eat out your pussy like he would never get the chance to again. The mixture of saliva and your juices dripping down his chin makes your eyes widen even as you squint down at him.

With careful, deliberate motions, he moves away from you, the grin on his face replaced by a more serious expression. You sit up, leaning on your elbows. The aftermath of your passionate actions catches up to you; reaching over, you snatch your panties from the coffee table and swing your legs over. Throughout, Mingyu doesn’t say anything. He only watches, in that quiet, observant way of his, swiping at his mouth and chin with a tissue he grabbed from the tissue box next to the couch.

You glance at him. Is he going to say something? Or is he going to let you walk away again, with all the words you want to say to him lying on the tip of your tongue, always there but never released?

“Y/N.” He scrambles to his feet when you stand up, clutching your underwear in one hand and adjusting your dress with the other. He sounds… uncertain. Completely unlike the Mingyu who cockily asked you if Seokmin was your boyfriend, or who joked around with Jihyo like it was second nature to him.

You bite your lip. “Yes?”

“Do you… do you want anything? Water?”

You melt a little at his words like an ice cream left out for too long. Kim Mingyu, always so kind, always so caring—you know that better than anyone.

He can be cruel too, in the way he chips away at your already broken heart. He doesn’t know it but he does—lift your hopes only to let it all crumble down. Like how he broke the promises you made to each other, and how you broke the words you’d sworn to say to him alone.

It hits you again, how you and Mingyu were meant to be, and how lonely it was when he left. You wonder if he feels the same way—did he spend sleepless nights in bed, thinking of you? Did he ever think that if he could travel back in time, he’d do it all over again?

You shake your head no at him. He doesn’t say anything after that, but his lips part slightly. He watches you as you walk over to grab your purse and head inside your room.

That night, you don’t sleep at all—despite wrapping yourself up in your Looney Tunes comforter and the comforting weight of your pillow beneath your head that usually puts you to sleep instantly.

Instead, it feels like the very first night you and Mingyu broke up all over again.

SIXTEEN

You don’t tell anyone about what transpired between you and Mingyu. It remains hidden between you both, a secret neither of you are willing to bring up.

Jihyo is back to work at her new city, now completely devoid of boy problems of any sort, since Jeong Jaehyun has shifted his affections to another co-worker. (“It’s better this way,” she tells you, “he didn’t want a committed relationship, anyway.” You can tell she’s truly not bothered by it, so you grin and agree.)

Seokmin doesn’t come around to your cubicle the way he used to earlier, either. Your days at the office are dreary and boring, now that your co-worker’s sunshine smile isn’t there to keep you company. In fact, the only person who still talks to you voluntarily at work is your boss, Seunghcheol, but even then it’s mostly just a sympathetic smile he offers you followed by a new deadline or a project.

You and Mingyu are back to whatever it was you had when you first moved in, before the lasagne fiasco. Not talking to each other, but not not talking to each other either. You swerve around each other in tandem, finding more and more excuses to avoid whatever happened in between you both. He lied when he said he would talk to you about it the next day, after he ate you out on the couch.

You can’t blame him completely; you’ve made no effort to reach out to him, either.

Weariness seeps into your skin with every passing second. You rub at your already half-closed eyes and hide a yawn behind a closed fist. The letters on your laptop screen swim in front of you. The stack of folders next to it drags a tired sigh out of your lips.

You’re so tired. Not just physically, but emotionally you’re drained out, all the liveliness sucked out of you like someone vacuumed up the inside of your heart. The lack of sleep is getting to you; the lack of someone to brighten up your days is getting to you more.

If you and Seokmin were still on a talking basis, he would have sauntered over to your desk by now, hands in his pockets and the same question on his lips: “Coffee break?”

He’s not here now, probably tucked into his corner of the floor. Maybe his smile is directed at someone else. Maybe he’s taking someone else on the daily ritual that you used to consider yours. Maybe it’s time you get out of your fucking swivel chair and get some coffee.

You’re not doing it alone, of course. No, coffee at the office—no matter how shitty the machine is and how long the line for the coveted caffeine is—is yours and Seokmin’s thing. Besides, he said you’re still friends; it’s time for you to step up.

Stifling another yawn, you blink slowly before pushing yourself off your chair. It occurs to you that you don’t know exactly where Seokmin’s cubicle is—he’d mentioned it was by Seungcheol’s room once. You decide to start there.

It doesn’t take you long to find Seokmin. You walk into him—literally walk into him. A startled gasp leaves your lips when you collide into someone’s chest, an apology already on the tip of your tongue.

“Are you okay?”

You blink once. The voice is familiar. You direct your gaze at the person you bumped into.

“Seokmin,” you breathe out weakly.

He smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “The one and only.”

“I-I’m sorry I bumped into you,” you quickly apologise. “I was on my—”

“It’s okay, don’t apologise,” he interrupts. “I should’ve looked at where I was going too.”

“How… have you been?” The question spills out before you notice, and you realise that you’re genuinely concerned about his wellbeing. You’ve missed him, missed his companionship.

Seokmin looks briefly surprised that you’ve asked him. He clears his throat, once. “Oh, um. I’ve been fine—y’know, the usual. Work, home, sleep and then repeat. How—how about you?”

“I’ve been better,” you admit. “You look tired, though.”

He lifts his hand and rubs his cheek with an accompanying embarrassed chuckle. “You could tell?”

He has bags underneath his eyes. His shoulders sag ever-so slightly. His usually perfectly styled hair isn’t as neat as it used to be. You nod. “You look exhausted.”

“Ah.” Another embarrassed chuckle; you can tell he doesn’t know how to respond to that.

“Coffee break?” you offer, a small, lopsided smile gracing your lips.

This time, the smile Lee Seokmin gives you lights up his eyes.

SEVENTEEN

“This is ridiculous!” you call out for the nth time, glaring at the door with as much intensity as you can muster.

“Jihyo’s orders!” Seokmin calls back, from outside the room. “I have proof that she asked me to lock you two up in order for you to talk it out.”

Mingyu huffs out a breathless laugh from behind you. He’s sitting cross-legged on the bed, sheets crumpled and pillow on his lap. You turn around to level your glare at him.

“Give it up,” he advises.

“Don’t even.” You pinch the bride of your nose, closing your eyes in exasperation. “This is all your fault.”

“My fault? No one told you to tell Seokmin everything!”

“Well, how was I supposed to know he would go and tell Jihyo?” you splutter out, opening your eyes and bringing your hand down. “I didn’t even know they’d exchanged numbers!”

“Might as well get it over with,” Seokmin’s voice travels through the barricade once more. “The sooner the better.”

“I didn’t ask you, Seokmin,” you mutter.

“He’s right, you know.” Mingyu pats the space next to him, inviting you to sit down. “If Jihyo hadn’t forced him to do it, I would have found some way to do it myself.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” you retort. “You’ve been avoiding me since the day we—since the day we kissed.”

“I would have tried,” he reasons. “But since you’re here now, can you at least please listen to what I have to say?”

“Oh, so now you have things you want to say,” you grumble, crossing your arms over your chest. Regardless, you sit down next to him. You’re curious, you will admit. This conversation could potentially break your heart, or it could also change the trajectory of your relationship with Mingyu.

Your ex-boyfriend takes a deep breath before beginning.

“The other day, when I said I wanted to kiss you—I wasn’t lying, Y/N. I truly meant it. I’ve wanted to kiss you the minute I laid eyes on you again. I wanted to hold your hand, to take you places around the neighbourhood, to come back home to you.

“I thought we were making progress. I thought we were friends again, and I could somehow win your heart back.” A wry smile crosses his lips. “But then Seokmin came by, and you both just seemed so close. He—he brought back this life in you; your eyes sparkled whenever he was around, and you were always smiling when you were with him. I never saw that after we… after you moved in. You were always so jittery with me—understandably so—and I… I let my jealousy of seeing you with Seokmin get the better of me.

“That day, when I—” he pauses, glancing at you; his eyes are imploring, and you sense that he’s laying himself bare for you— “when you saw me kissing that girl, I did it on purpose. To make you jealous. And then I saw the look on your face, and even when I was drunk, I knew I’d fucked up. So I left her, and I followed you back inside—you closed the door just as I caught up with you. I called up Minghao, spent the night at his place. I think that’s when I realised completely that I—that I still love you.”

Your breath catches in your throat at his words. Your heart is hammering inside your chest. You can’t believe you’re actually hearing these words.

Mingyu swallows. “That’s what I wanted to tell you. Even after we broke up, even after all the things we said to each other—some part of me knew that I shouldn’t give up on you. I have loved you throughout. I will continue to love you throughout.”

He looks down, staring at his hands. In that instant, he looks so small. Vulnerable. As if giving his entire heart to you on a silver platter isn’t enough. As if he’s giving all of himself to you, mind, body and soul.

You need to tell him that your mind, body and soul have always been his.

“Mingyu,” you begin, watching as his eyes travel over to yours uncertainly, “you absolute fucking idiot.”

His lips twitch up briefly. “Wha—”

“I love you, too, idiot.” The words rush out breathlessly. “I never stopped.”

Mingyu’s eyes widen and his mouth opens imperceptibly. You continue, “I knew this would happen. The minute I stepped foot into your house, I knew I would fall for you all over again.”

You reach out and grip his hand, needing something to tether you against him. “And I did.” A watery laugh escapes your mouth. “I fell in love with you all over again.”

A pause, and then Mingyu’s free hand cups your cheek, skin warm against yours. “You’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

Mingyu smiles at your confession—a full smile, with his eyes crinkling in the corners and his lips turning upwards. He leans forward. “I’m going to kiss you now.”

You beat him to it, covering the distance between you both with one swift swoop. You capture his lower lip in between yours, hands resting on his shoulders to steady yourself. He kisses you back with equal fervour, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you impossibly closer. You close your eyes and slide your tongue across the seam of his lips, smiling when he lets out a silent groan.

He only pulls away once he needs air, but even then he doesn’t let you go. He pulls you forward, making you straddle his lap as he kisses your cheeks, your nose, the column of your throat. You relish in his touches, tangling your hands in his hair and tugging gently at the silky strands.

“We should probably stop,” you whisper, when a particularly sharp nip at your neck elicits a soft moan from you. “Seokmin’s standing outside.”

“Fuck him,” Mingyu says. He presses another kiss on your jaw, looking up at you like you’ve hung up all the stars in the universe.

You roll your eyes affectionately at him. “C’mon. I don’t want to scar him for life.”

“Who cares?”

“I care,” you say, slowly getting off his lap. Already you can feel the absence of his warmth.

“Fine,” he agrees, once you stand up fully and brush yourself off. “I love you.”

Warmth shoots up your chest and onto your cheeks and neck. Your heart swells, and you find yourself grinning involuntarily. “I love you, too.”

“Good.” Mingyu stands up and pecks your cheek. “Now let’s go save Seokmin from his misery.”

(Later, if you find Seokmin with bright pink ears as he pointedly avoids yours and Mingyu’s gaze, that’s no one’s business but his.)

EIGHTEEN

Mingyu sucks on a sweet spot right underneath your ear and you can practically hear his smirk when you let out a whine. You fist your hand in the sheets, feeling the soft material crinkle underneath your fingertips.

“Such a tease,” you whisper out.

He lowers his head, nips at your neck and then runs his tongue over the spot, soothing it. “So you’ve mentioned.”

Your retort dies on your lips when he moves lower and lower, pressing open-mouthed kisses on your collarbones and shoulders. You whine again when his fingers find your nipple, pinching the bud lightly in between his thumb and forefingers. He moves lower, breath ghosting over your abdomen and belly button, until he finally comes face to face with your clothed pussy.

He hooks his finger into the waistband of your panties, nails scraping against your skin. You squirm under his touch, lifting your hips to help him pull the flimsy garment down your legs and toss it to the side. Mingyu sucks in a breath sharply when he sees your exposed cunt—despite already having seen it before, and you feel a rush of pride at the fact that you still have this effect on him. “So pretty,” he murmurs, eyeing your folds hungrily.

Mingyu works on your clit expertly, thumb rubbing against the nub, eliciting a loud moan from you. He licks a stripe up your folds, grinning when your hand automatically finds itself in his hair again. When he finds you’re wet enough, he slides a finger in. You inhale sharply, hole clenching around the digit. He circles his thumb around your clit once more, before sliding another finger in.

You gasp at that, tightening the hand in his hair. Mingyu leans forward, swiping at your clit with his tongue one more time and pulling both his fingers out at the same time. He relishes in the sounds coming out of your mouth, feeling proud that you’re not trying to hide anything from him. You’re completely under his mercy, as is he when it comes to you.

He slides both the fingers back in, hissing when your walls contract against them, pumping the digits in and out a few more times. The way you moan—because of him—makes him finger your hole faster, enjoying the way your moans increase in pitch. When he sees your eyes beginning to cloud over, Mingyu quickly withdraws his fingers. You whimper at the loss of his touch and he chuckles. “Patience, baby. Don’t want you to cum just yet.”

Your head falls back on the pillow and you mutter a string of incoherent words under your breath. “Look at me,” Mingyu tuts.

You lift up your neck curiously. Mingyu waits for your eyes to land on his lips before he slowly, deliberately puts his two fingers into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the digits and licking your juices off. He doesn’t fail to notice the way you bite your lip at the sight.

Once he pulls his fingers out, Mingyu bends down and presses an open-mouthed kiss to the inside of your thigh. “Are you even gonna fuck me, Gyu?” you grit out, and his eyes widen.

“Call me that again,” he orders.

“Fuck me, Gyu.” Your voice is borderline a whimper, and, well—who is Mingyu to prevent you from getting what you desire? After all, he’s always been a little weak when it comes to you.

He gets on his knees, holding his throbbing cock in his hand. He pumps it a few times, groaning softly, before positioning himself at your entrance. “You’re on the pill?”

“Yes.” You nod almost desperately, waiting for him to slide it all the way in.

Mingyu enters you slowly—the pace is almost unbearable—but he shudders when he feels your walls against his dick. You grab onto his shoulders, nails digging into the flesh. A loud moan escapes your lips when he jerks his hips forward, his cock pressing into your cervix. Your eyes screw shut, and Mingyu grunts, pulling out and thrusting back inside with more force. Almost unconsciously, you wrap your legs around his hips, granting him more access to your hole and allowing him to push himself deeper inside you.

He leans down and captures a nipple in his mouth, rolling his tongue around the pebbled bud. You gasp out moans wantonly, and it spurs him to thrust faster and faster inside you. He watches you fall apart on him, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips when your moans become interspersed with chants of his name.

Your grip on his shoulders tighten and the muscles flex under your hold. Your cries reach a crescendo with one particularly sharp thrust; Mingyu can tell your climax is approaching.

He speeds up, pumping into you with as much strength as he can muster. Your nails leave white-hot trails along his back, his shoulders—you try to hold onto him as best as you can. You cry for more, beg him to keep going. A bit redundant, in his opinion—he has no plans of stopping until you’ve orgasmed.

Mingyu thrusts into you one last time, throwing you over the edge. Your walls clench around his cock tightly, black stars floating in your vision as you cry out his name. He pumps into you weakly, letting you ride out your orgasm while chasing his own high. He buries his face in your neck, breathing heavily, and when your walls tighten around him, he comes inside you, his movements coming to a pause.

You stroke his sweaty bangs away from his forehead, both of you catching your breaths. He remains sheathed in you, even as he pulls you onto your side so both your chests are touching.

“Feel good?” he asks, one hand carding through your hair gently.

You let out a tired, but satisfied hum, smiling softly at Mingyu.

You spend the night curled up in his arms. He sleeps soundly next to you, eyelashes brushing against his cheeks and hands wrapped protectively around your figure. The steady thrum of his heartbeat sounds against your ear, and you smile, even in your sleep.

NINETEEN

“You have your thinking face on.” Your boyfriend saunters into the kitchen, a knowing smile on his lips. You roll your eyes at him.

“You can’t tell me you don’t see it too,” you say pointedly, waving your wooden spatula at him.

Mingyu chuckles, moving over and wrapping his arms around your waist from behind. He presses a sweet kiss to your shoulder. “What, that Seokmin and Jihyo are meant to be? That smells amazing, by the way, love.”

“Yes,” you huff out, stirring the soup inside the pot boiling on the stove. “And thank you.”

From the living room, you can hear your two friends laughing over something you couldn’t possibly begin to comprehend. Jihyo still lives in another city, but she comes over to visit whenever she can. You and Seokmin remain friends, and he often comes over whenever you, Mingyu and Jihyo decide to hang out—though, you suspect his enthusiasm to join you three has more to do with one particular person rather than the entire group.

“If you say so,” Mingyu agrees. “I think they’re just friends.”

“Friends don’t look at each other that way,” you say matter-of-factly.

“Really? I seem to recall him looking at you the exact same way not too long ago.”

“That’s different, Gyu. Here, can you taste some? I don’t want it to be too salty.” Grabbing a large spoon, you dip it in the pot and offer it to Mingyu.

He obliges, letting you shove the spoonful into his mouth—and yelps almost immediately. “Ouch! You didn’t tell me it was hot.”

You only raise an eyebrow at him, but a small hint of amusement dances in your eyes. “How does it taste?”

Mingyu rolls his eyes at you but rests his chin on your shoulder; his hair tickles your ear. “It tastes amazing as always, love.”

“You’re sure? You’re not just saying that to make me feel better, are you?”

“I’m offended you think I would lie to you.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” you deadpan, and it makes Mingyu giggle.

“I’m serious, it tastes good.” He smiles at you, peeling himself away from you. “Let’s go join the other two.”

“Coming.” You put the stove on simmer and grab Mingyu’s extended hand. His fingers slot in between yours easily. Your lips curl upwards on their own accord, and your heart feels so full, it’s close to bursting.

You’re there, in a room with all your favourite people, and it’s perfect.

The very first night you and Mingyu broke up is pushed to the back of your mind, never to slip out of the corner you’ve tucked it into. The nights after made up for it, and you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. You rebuild the promises you made and make new ones along the way.

You’d write it in the sky if you could, but you and Mingyu don’t need that.

author's note: this fic was such a wild ride. from start to finish, i kept writing, rewriting, and editing, so i hope you enjoyed reading this! thank you to my two best friends who helped me out whenever i got stuck and gave me new ideas for scenes; this fic wouldn't have seen the light of day if not for you guys! ♡ i also want to thank every single person who asked to be tagged in this; all of you gave me the motivation i needed to finish this. thank you for reading!