TO BELIEVE — S.jaeyun

𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐍 – 𝟖

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓: 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬

⤲ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

⤲ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞!𝐀𝐔, 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝!𝐀𝐔, 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭

⤲ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞, 𝐚 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞. 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬, 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬, 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨'𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧...

← 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 — 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 →

(A/N: HUH? poison!heeseung actually getting a chap where he's NOT a possessive weirdo??🤭 so next chap's gonna be a little filler and chapter ten is gonna be a written one and ofc finally the housewarming party let's GO, lmk what you guys think might happen; feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!! and tysm for everything babies 🧸💗)

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I LOVED YOU FIRST PT2 | FC43

part one

an: not even gonna leave an an, i always had a part two lol

wc: 5.2k

Franco found out she was dating Angelo via an Instagram story. A fucking Instagram story.

But that was almost three years ago now, and Franco tried to let it go, god did he try. He was getting married now, after all. He had to forget about what could have been.

The engagement ring on his finger felt heavier than it should. Not because he hadn’t once thought it was right—he had. Or maybe he just convinced himself it was right. They’d been together for four years, maybe more, he stopped counting. She was beautiful, poised, easy to love, easy to fit into his world. That’s what he’d told himself, anyway.

But now, standing in the grand suite of the London hotel they’d rented for the weekend, Franco stared out the window at the city below, watching the lights flicker in the distance. He hadn’t been able to shake the feeling that something was missing. Not that he had any right to be questioning it. After all, he was about to get married, wasn’t he?

The last three years had been a blur of wins, podiums, and post-race parties. Formula 1 had been a dream realised, his face plastered across billboards in every country, every magazine with his name next to the headlines. He’d travelled the world, earned millions, lived a life many envied. But somewhere along the way, his heart had wandered.

And the truth was, despite the glamour, despite the fame, the money, he couldn’t shake the thought of her. The way she’d looked when she told him she loved him first. The way her eyes had glistened with unshed tears that night in Monza—before she left for good. The way she’d walked away, no longer the girl he took for granted. It was like he could still see her disappearing down the hallway of the hotel, leaving him behind, a shadow in her past.

What if I had chosen her?

He thought about that too often. But it was too late. She was gone. She’d moved on with Angelo, the guy who was everything Franco wasn’t—steady, grounded, someone who could give her a love that wasn’t tied to racing, fame, or endless, mind-numbing travel. And that fucking Instagram story—her laughing, the two of them in a café in Buenos Aires, arms around each other, looking so effortlessly happy—had been the final blow.

That was the last straw.

And now, three years later, here he was—about to get married, with the wrong person. He should have been thrilled, but something about it gnawed at him, like he was suffocating in a life that wasn’t his own. She was everything he thought he wanted. She’d followed him to every race, always the perfect girlfriend, the perfect partner. But the truth was, he wasn’t sure he loved her anymore. He wasn’t sure he ever had.

She had been the easy option. She fit into the world he’d built for himself—the shiny, public life, the world of sponsorships and media appearances. She had the right background, the right education, the right looks. She was what was expected of him. What people saw when they looked at a successful F1 driver: the perfect match, the ideal woman.

But the reality was that whenever he closed his eyes, he saw someone else. He saw her. The girl from that small village in Argentina, the one who’d loved him first and probably would, even when he didn’t deserve it. Even when he hadn’t been able to see it for what it was.

He hadn’t thought about her for a while—not in the sense that would make him ache, not the way he used to. He’d buried that pain under the chaos of the last few years. But it was like a low hum in the back of his mind. Every time he saw Angelo’s name pop up, or when he’d hear a new story about her from people back home, he couldn’t help but wonder how her life had turned out. Was she happy? Was she still with Angelo? Was she finally over him?

He could only imagine the life she’d built without him—the kind of life she deserved.

But now, standing on the edge of a new chapter of his life, Franco wondered if he’d ever be able to move on. Because, no matter how many laps he raced, no matter how many trophies he collected, it always came back to her. And now, with his wedding on the horizon, he couldn’t help but ask himself: What the hell had he been doing this whole time?

His phone buzzed on the table, snapping him back to the moment. His fiancée. A text: “Hey, I made reservations for dinner tonight!”

He sighed and stared at the screen of his phone, fingers hovering over the keyboard. 

He knew he shouldn’t, it was ridiculous. It was stupid. He had no right to send her an invitation, not after everything. He hadn’t heard from her in so long, hadn’t even thought about reaching out beyond those painful Instagram stories and the passing updates from mutual friends.

But, for some reason, there he was—typing out an invitation to his wedding.

It’s the right thing to do, he told himself. She was a part of his past. She had been the first person to love him unconditionally. They’d spent too many years growing up together not to extend an olive branch. Besides, she had a life now, a life without him. Maybe it was selfish to think she would even want to come, but maybe, just maybe, she deserved to know. She deserved to hear it from him, the way things had turned out.

He hit “send” before he could overthink it any more. The words felt hollow as they left his phone, but there was no going back now.

It was a quiet afternoon in Buenos Aires. The sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon, casting a soft, golden light through the windows of their apartment. She and Angelo had just finished dinner—nothing fancy, just pasta and wine—and now she was curled up on the couch with a book in her lap, one of the many cosy rituals they had settled into over the past couple of years.

Her phone buzzed on the coffee table. She glanced at it, seeing a notification from her email app. The subject line made her pause.

Wedding Invitation: Franco Colapinto.

She blinked, feeling her chest tighten before she even opened it. It had been so long since she’d thought about him—since Monza, really. It was a chapter of her life that had closed the moment she walked away. But the sight of his name brought it all rushing back. The summers spent racing bikes down dirt roads, his smile so effortless, so wide. The way he’d looked at her before everything changed.

Slowly, she opened the email, feeling a strange mixture of nostalgia and disbelief.

I hope this message finds you well. It’s been a while since we last spoke, but I wanted to reach out and invite you to something important. I’m getting married in three months' time, and I wanted to personally invite you to be a part of the day. It wouldn’t feel right without including you.

I understand if you’re unable to come, but I thought it was important to extend the invitation.

I hope everything is going well in your life.

All the best,

Fran

She stared at the message for what felt like an eternity, the words swimming in her mind. There were so many things she could have said, but the only thing she could focus on was the feeling of her heart, beating a little faster than it should. A soft ache settled in her chest.

Three years had passed. She had moved on, found a life she was proud of—one that was stable and calm, filled with love from Angelo, whose steady hand had never wavered, who had been everything Franco couldn’t be. She had built a future, and it was more than she had ever expected for herself.

And yet, the invitation sat there, a reminder of what had been. Of the boy she had loved, the boy who had never truly seen her. Of the boy who she had walked away from.

She set the phone down for a moment, leaning back against the couch. Angelo’s gentle snoring filled the living room from the slightly ajar door, a quiet reminder of the life they had made together—together, with no ghosts of the past lingering between them. But even as she sat there, she could feel the sting of Franco’s message, the painful reminder of how much had been left unsaid.

She thought about the wedding. How strange it felt to be invited to something so intimate, something so final. It was a life she would never be a part of. A life that wasn’t hers to claim, never was. But part of her, deep down, still wondered what had happened. Was he happy? Was this really the life he wanted? Or was this just another easy option for him? Another decision made out of convenience?

Why am I even asking myself this?

She shook her head, her lips curling into a rueful smile. She knew she didn’t want to go. There was no reason to go back to that part of her life, not now. Not when everything she had built with Angelo was exactly where it needed to be.

The following morning, the soft clink of Angelo’s keys echoed through their small kitchen as he got his things ready for work. He was already dressed in his crisp suit, his tie neatly adjusted, preparing for another day at the law firm. She, on the other hand, was in her scrubs, packing her bag for her shift at the hospital.

She was tying her trainers when she saw him glance at her, his eyes focused on his phone.

“Hey,” he said, his voice casual but tinged with curiosity. “You seem a little quiet this morning.”

She shrugged, setting her bag down on the counter. “I’m fine. Just tired, I guess.”

It was only a half-lie. She had hardly slept last night after receiving Franco’s invitation. The words had stuck with her, gnawing at her thoughts, replaying in her mind like a loop she couldn’t escape.

“What’s up?” Angelo asked, watching her intently, his brow furrowing slightly.

She hesitated, then sighed and reached for her phone, pulling up the email Franco had sent her. She handed it to him without a word.

Angelo read it in silence, his eyes scanning the screen. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him. She wasn’t sure what to expect, but somehow, she already knew that he would have an opinion on it.

Finally, he set the phone down and looked at her, his expression unreadable for a moment. “He’s getting married, huh? I didn;’t believe it when I saw it on the news.” he said softly.

“Yeah,” she replied quietly, as if the words themselves felt like an admission. “I guess he thought I should know.”

“You’re not planning on going, are you?” Angelo asked, his voice laced with concern.

She shook her head, biting her lip. “He’s my past now. It doesn’t matter. It’s… it’s not something I need to revisit.”

Angelo nodded, his eyes softening as he stepped closer, brushing a strand of hair from her face. He knew how much Franco had meant to her—how he had once been the centre of her world. But that was years ago. And he had never once doubted that she was now his world.

“I haven’t seen Franco since we were sixteen,” Angelo said, his tone thoughtful. “I know things between you and him ended... well, the way they did. But maybe it might be good to go. For closure. For you, if nothing else.”

She met his eyes, her gaze wavering. “Closure?” she repeated, almost incredulously. “I don’t need closure, Angelo. I moved on a long time ago.”

“I know,” Angelo said, his voice gentle but firm. “But I think sometimes it’s easy to say we’ve moved on, that we’re over things. But there are pieces of our past that stick with us, no matter how much time passes. Maybe seeing him—seeing that life—will help you put the final chapter behind you. Don’t you think?”

She was quiet for a long moment, turning the idea over in her head. It made sense, in a way. The past had never quite been put to rest, even if she had buried it deep. Maybe it wasn’t about Franco anymore. Maybe it was about facing what had happened, about finding peace with it, once and for all.

“I don’t know,” she murmured, shaking her head. “I don’t want it to mess with what we have, Angelo. I don’t want to go and be reminded of something that doesn’t exist anymore.”

Angelo smiled softly, taking her hand in his. “It won’t. I promise. You’re the one I want, mi amor You’re the one who matters. Whatever happened back then, whatever Franco was, that’s not us. It’s not our life. But if this is something you think you need to do, then I’ll be there with you. I want you to have the closure you need.”

She felt a warmth spread through her chest at his words. Angelo had always been like that—steady, understanding, and so patient with her. He never pushed her to forget, but he also didn’t hold her to the past. He was the one who made her feel safe, who built her the life she was proud of, and the thought of him beside her through whatever this was made her feel like she could take on anything.

With a slow, hesitant breath, she met his eyes. “You’re right. Maybe it would be good to go. I don’t know what I’ll feel when I see him, but I think... I think I can handle it now.”

Angelo smiled, squeezing her hand. “Then we’ll go. Together.”

She nodded, feeling a weight lift from her shoulders. The decision was made, and it was time to let go of the last remnants of the past. Franco and his life—whatever that was now—could stay in the past, but she wouldn’t be running from it anymore.

“Thanks,” she whispered, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek. “For always being here.”

“Always,” Angelo replied, his voice warm. “Now go. You don’t want to be late for your shift.”

She smiled at him one last time before grabbing her bag and heading for the door. The wedding was still months away, but somehow, her world felt just a little bit more at peace now.

Three months later

The morning of the wedding, the soft rays of the sun filtered through the curtains of their hotel suite, casting a warm, golden glow across the room.

She stood in front of the mirror, smoothing down the fabric of her dress as Angelo adjusted his cufflinks in the reflection behind her. The air was filled with a quiet sense of anticipation. It had been a few months since she agreed to come to the wedding, and now, standing in this luxurious hotel in the heart of the Mediterranean, she could feel the surrealness of it all.

She was here. With him. With Angelo.

He caught her gaze in the mirror, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “You look beautiful,” he said, his voice tender.

She smiled back, her heart swelling with a quiet joy. Angelo was always so calm, so steady, and he knew exactly how to make her feel loved without needing to say much. The simple moments like this were the ones that made her certain that their life together, their future, was the right one.

“Thank you,” she said, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek. He was perfect in every way. “You look handsome, as usual,” she added with a smile.

He chuckled softly. “I try,” he teased, adjusting the hem of his suit jacket before stepping forward to take her hand. “Are you ready for this? I know it’s been a long time coming.”

She nodded, squeezing his hand. “Yeah. I’m ready. It’s just… it’s strange. You know? We’re not the same people we were three years ago. And I feel like I’m finally letting go of that past. I just need to do it, for me. And for us.”

“Whatever you need, you have it,” Angelo said, his voice unwavering, filled with a quiet strength.

She smiled at him, grateful for his support. They had come so far, and no matter what happened today, she knew she was in the right place.

“I’m going to step outside for a second,” she said, pulling away from him gently. “I’m going to grab a photo of the schedule. I’ll be right back.”

“Take your time,” Angelo replied, watching her with those warm, reassuring eyes.

She stepped into the corridor of the hotel, her heels clicking against the polished floor. She pulled out her phone, navigating to the event details to snap a photo of the ceremony’s schedule. The hallway was quiet, save for the distant chatter of guests below and the hum of preparations for the wedding in the distance. The excitement was palpable in the air, but in this moment, everything felt calm.

That was until she heard the faint sound of footsteps approaching from behind.

She turned around, feeling her heart give a small, unexpected jolt when she saw him.

Franco.

He was standing there, half-dressed in a black tuxedo with his shirt untucked, sleeves rolled up, his tie still loose around his neck. He looked just like he did three years ago—handsome, dishevelled in the way that made him seem effortlessly charming.

Her stomach tightened.

“You came,” he said, his voice soft with surprise. 

She stood there for a moment, unsure of what to say, before forcing a calm smile. “I said I would,” she replied evenly. Her heart beat just a little faster, but she kept her expression neutral.

He looked at her, his gaze a little more intense than she remembered, and she couldn’t quite place the mix of emotions flickering in his eyes. There was something unspoken there, something she hadn’t expected.

“I didn’t think you’d follow through,” he added, a hint of disbelief in his voice.

She didn’t know what to make of that. She shrugged. “I thought I’d at least be polite.”

A silence stretched between them, uncomfortable and thick with everything that had been left unsaid over the years. Franco’s gaze drifted toward the floor for a moment before he looked back up at her, his jaw tense, and his voice was almost pleading when he spoke.

“Can we talk?” he asked, his words hesitant.

She hesitated, feeling her pulse quicken. She didn’t want this. Didn’t want to go back to the past—didn’t want to open that door again.

“I’d rather not,” she said, her tone firm, though her heart was beating harder than she cared to admit.

Franco’s expression softened. “It’s been three years. Three years overdue, don’t you think?”

She closed her eyes for a moment, breathing in deeply, the weight of everything hanging between them. She didn’t owe him anything, and yet, a part of her—perhaps the part that had loved him—knew there was still something lingering. Something that she hadn’t been able to shake off.

She finally gave a soft sigh, one that carried all the weariness of the years that had passed. “Fine,” she said quietly, her shoulders sagging slightly in resignation. “But just for a minute. I don’t have time to rehash everything.”

“Thank you,” Franco murmured, stepping forward as he gestured down the hallway. “My room’s just down here. I won’t keep you long.”

They walked down the corridor in silence, the weight of the moment sinking in. She wasn’t sure what she expected from this conversation, but she knew it wasn’t going to be easy. Not for either of them. When they reached his room, Franco opened the door and stepped aside to let her in.

It was a modest suite, far removed from the lavish ceremony unfolding just downstairs. The quiet of the room seemed to accentuate the tension between them. He closed the door behind them, his movements slow and deliberate.

“Can I get you anything?” he asked, his voice distant as he turned to face her. “Water? A drink?”

She shook her head. “I’m fine.”

There was a long pause. He ran a hand through his hair, clearly nervous. For the first time in a long while, he seemed uncertain.

“So…” Franco began, taking a breath, “I guess this is awkward, huh?”

“Yeah,” she replied, her voice steady, but her insides were churning. “A little.”

Before she even had a chance to settle with what she was doing, he shot her straight to the heart with the words that came out of his mouth.

“I never meant to hurt you,” he said, his voice quiet. “I know I did, but that wasn’t ever my intention. You were always there for me, and I should’ve done better. I should’ve realised…”

Franco ran a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture that was all too familiar. He seemed to be gathering the courage to say something, but when he spoke, his words were not what she expected.

“I should’ve told you,” he started, voice low, almost regretful. “I should have told you that I loved you.”

She blinked, her chest tightening as she took in the weight of his words. “Don’t,” she said quickly, cutting him off. Her voice was sharp, a defence mechanism against the rawness he was trying to expose. “You can’t do that. You can’t come here and say things like that after all this time. It’s... it’s mean.”

Franco’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t back down. “I should’ve told you,” he repeated, his voice thick with something she couldn’t quite place—guilt, perhaps? Regret?

She shook her head, unable to stop herself from responding. “Why are you still with her, then?” Her voice trembled slightly, the question feeling more like a challenge than a simple inquiry. She thought of how excited she must be right now getting ready, while he was confessing his love to his childhood best friend. She wondered whether she knew.

He didn’t answer right away, and when he did, his eyes flickered away, as though he was ashamed of the truth he was about to speak. “It’s easier to pretend to love her,” he admitted, his voice flat. “It’s easier than facing the truth.”

“Than what?” she asked, her words cutting through the air, her eyes locking onto his. “Than admitting you love me?”

The silence that followed was deafening. Franco’s eyes darkened, and he stepped closer, a hesitation lingering between them. He opened his mouth, but instead of speaking, he exhaled deeply, as if trying to gather the strength to continue.

“You don’t understand,” he said softly, voice barely above a whisper. “I was scared. I didn’t know how to handle what I was feeling. I still don’t.”

She looked at him, biting her lip, trying to keep herself from breaking. “You can’t do this,” she said, her voice cracking with frustration. “You don’t get to walk back into my life now and make me feel like I was some... some second choice. You don’t get to say things that undo everything we went through.”

Franco’s gaze darkened, but his next words were even more dangerous. “Say it, and I’ll leave her,” he said, his voice low and intense, as if he were testing her. “Say you want me the same way you wanted me three summers ago, and I’ll do it. I’ll walk away from her. I’ll choose you.”

Her breath caught in her throat, her heart stuttering in her chest. The temptation was there—familiar, painful, and so very dangerous. She could feel that old longing tug at her, the part of her that had loved him so fiercely, so deeply. But this wasn’t that girl anymore. She wasn’t the girl who would wait around for him to realise what he’d lost.

“I can’t,” she whispered, feeling tears prick the corners of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. “I can’t do that anymore. I’m happy now. I’m happy with Angelo.”

The words felt heavy on her tongue, and for a moment, it felt like she had to convince herself of them. But as she looked into Franco’s eyes—still searching, still wanting—she realised that she meant it. She really did.

Franco’s face fell, his expression a mixture of frustration and defeat. “You don’t understand,” he said again, the words sounding more like a plea. “I never stopped loving you.”

She took a step back, shaking her head, trying to clear the emotions that were spiralling inside of her. “No,” she said firmly, her voice resolute. “You don’t get to say that, Franco. Not now. Not when I’ve spent three years getting over all of this. You don’t get to come here and break my heart all over again.”

For a long moment, they stood there, the space between them filled with unspoken words and unresolved tension. But it was over. It had to be.

“I can’t undo what happened,” she added softly, her gaze not leaving his. “But I’m not that girl anymore. And I’m not going to be someone’s second choice.”

Franco didn’t say anything. He just stood there, staring at her as if he was seeing her for the first time. The weight of everything they’d been through hung heavy between them, and it was clear now that nothing could fix it. Not words. Not promises.

She turned to leave, her hand on the doorknob, but before she could step out of the room, she paused, glancing over her shoulder one last time.

“I’m happy now, Fran,” she said quietly, her voice steady despite everything. “And you need to figure out what makes you happy too. But I can’t be part of that anymore.”

She opened the door and stepped out, not looking back, not giving him the chance to say anything more.

The wedding was beautiful.

The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, casting a golden hue over the guests who had gathered for the wedding. The ceremony was set to take place on the terrace of the luxurious hotel overlooking the sea, the soft sound of waves lapping against the rocks below barely audible amidst the murmur of excited chatter.

She sat there, a few rows back from the front, Angelo by her side. The venue was beautiful—everything that was supposed to be perfect for a wedding. The guests were in their best attire, the flowers were arranged in pristine perfection, and the atmosphere felt like a dream. But something was off. A low hum of anxiety had been building ever since the music started, and she couldn’t shake the nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Franco was supposed to be standing at the altar now. But he wasn’t.

She stole a glance at Angelo, who was sitting quietly beside her, a reassuring hand on her knee. He could sense her unease.

“You okay?” he asked softly, his voice almost drowned out by the gentle clinking of glasses and conversations around them.

She nodded, but her eyes drifted nervously toward the aisle. “I don’t know,” she murmured. “Something feels wrong.”

The minutes dragged on. The officiant glanced at his watch, confusion spreading across his face as he leaned over to whisper something to the bridesmaids. There was no sign of Franco, and the guests were beginning to exchange worried glances. The tension in the air became palpable, the excitement of the ceremony suddenly replaced by a growing sense of discomfort.

After a few more minutes, she couldn’t hold it in any longer. She turned to Angelo, her voice barely above a whisper, but her anxiety was thick in her words. “Do you think he’s going to come?”

Angelo squeezed her hand gently, his gaze soft and understanding. “I don’t know, cariño. Maybe something’s happened. He’s probably just... running late.”

But as they exchanged those quiet words, it became clear that it wasn’t just a delay. The guests were shifting in their seats, some starting to murmur under their breath, the ceremony now holding a sense of surreal anticipation.

And then, just as the whispers reached a crescendo, the sound of footsteps echoed from behind. Everyone turned, their heads swivelling as they saw him—Franco. He was walking down the aisle, his face pale, his expression one of guilt and uncertainty. He wasn’t in a rush, though. It was as if he was taking his time, as though he had already made a decision.

The room fell silent as Franco reached the front. He looked out at the gathering of faces—his family, his friends, all of them waiting for the moment when he would say "I do." But he didn’t speak immediately.

He was struggling with the words, and she could feel the weight of the tension from across the room. Her heart raced, confusion and disbelief washing over her as she watched him take a deep breath, his eyes scanning the crowd before finally locking on the bride’s family sitting in the front row.

“Excuse me,” Franco’s voice broke through the silence, shaky but loud enough for everyone to hear. “I’m sorry for the disruption,” he continued, his eyes darting nervously between the bride and the guests. “I... I can’t do this. I can’t marry her.”

The air seemed to stop in that moment. His words hung like an echo, the shock rippling through the crowd. She couldn’t look away, her heart pounding in her chest as Freddie stood there, his face flushed with embarrassment, his hands trembling at his sides.

“I’m sorry, I thought I could,” he went on, his voice quiet but steady, “but I can’t marry her when I love someone else.” His gaze shifted to her, and for a split second, their eyes met. The pain, the regret, the history of everything they had been—it was all there in that single glance. But she didn’t feel anything but exhaustion. It was like watching someone else’s dream unravel.

The guests were murmuring, unsure of how to respond. His bride, stood by the doors he’d just walked in from, ready to walk down the aisle frozen and unmoving. Shelooked like she was about to collapse, her face pale as she took in the words that no one had expected.

“I’m sorry, I just—” Franco continued, his voice breaking, “I can’t do it. I can’t go through with it. I’m sorry. I—I just can’t.”

Without another word, he turned and began to walk away, stepping down from the altar, leaving the bride standing alone, abandoned in front of everyone.

The room was filled with stunned silence.

Angelo reached for her hand, squeezing it gently as the reality of what had just unfolded sank in. She didn’t know how to feel—didn’t know what to think. Her chest ached with a strange mixture of relief and guilt, but most of all, there was a numbness that began to set in.

And then, just as quickly as Franco had walked away, he was gone, disappearing behind the closed doors of the venue, leaving a trail of shock in his wake. The ceremony was over before it had even begun.

She couldn’t help herself.

The guilt she felt in her stomach was strong.

It was her fault.

the end.

an: actual an, im sorry guys! i was feeling sad so i wrote this muahhah

tags: @obxstiles @charlosvibesonly @zestytimbit @taygrls

►DANCING WITH THE DEVIL #004: Prelude [Sunghoon.]

Abstract: Eight years have passed since you betrayed Park Sunghoon, leaving his fate shrouded in uncertainty. You thought you'd left that world behind, but the serial killings in the capital city —which bore a haunting resemblance to that in your past—pulled you right back into the shadows you once escaped. What began as a quest to prove your worth soon unraveled into something far more sinister: a labyrinthine network of power, deceit, and danger hidden beneath a veneer of opulence.Now, amidst the grandeur of a castle steeped in blood-soaked tradition, you find yourself, once again, entangled with Sunghoon—a ghost from your past whose motives remain as inscrutable as ever. The stakes are now higher, the games deadlier, and survival feels like chasing a mirage. As you navigate a web of twisted rituals and deadly alliances, the tension between you and Sunghoon ignites once again.But this time, the game is different. With whispers of betrayal and lingering wounds threatening to consume you both, you must decide if trust is a risk worth taking—because in doing so, you are not just exposing the truths they've hidden, but also the feelings you’ve fought so hard to suppress and bury.

Parts ‣ #001 | ‣ #002 | ‣ #003 | ‣ #004: Prelude | ‣ #004: Finale

Genre: vampire!sunghoon | horror | thriller | fantasy | romance (or is it? 😋)||| wc: ~31.7k

Featuring: Anton from Riize. [ PSA! ] There's also a Jaeyun here -- this is actually Enhypen Jake lol. Soz, no one fits the role that Jaeyun has in here better than Dark Blood Jake so I plead you guys to just go along and imagine that the Jake in Part 1-3 and Jaeyun in this Part are two different people ((who happen to look alike)) HAHAH

Warnings: blood; violence; injuries (some are self-inflicted); suggestiveness (some are forced); mentions of crimes (missing persons, murder, serial killings); manipulation; toxicity; trauma.

A/N: A re-upload since my initial one got comm-labeled 💀

© 2024 interlunium-opus. All rights reserved. Do not plagiarize, post or translate anywhere.

— i

You have never for once thought you were safe from his clutches—not after he vanished; not after you’ve moved to the Big City and left it all behind; and not even after 8 full years had passed without any hint of him and his kind terrorising your life.

But 8 years was indeed a long time—long enough to make you almost want to believe that it was all just a fever dream especially when your traumatic memories have now been reduced to dubious patchwork of images in your mind. 

Until, that is, the odd happenings cropping up around the city in recent months began to bear an eerie resemblance to those from 8 years ago.

“You sure about this?” Anton’s voice cut through your thoughts as the van pulled to a stop near an abandoned alley. Your colleague’s expression was tight, his concern unmistakable. You didn’t look up, eyes fixed on the heatmap glowing on your laptop screen—a web of red nodes clustering around several locations with grey nodes showing your predicted ones.

You’d spent months perfecting this quantitative model and simulation, and this little incursion into the field was a risk you were willing to take to prove it worked, “this district is the next likeliest place. Just a glimmer of evidence from here can really set the whole ‘drug epidemic’ story down the drain.”

“I didn’t mean the location,” Anton sighed, “I meant about you being the bait. You don’t have to take things this far. What if, like they say the serial killings are just the product of yet another drug epidemic? It checks out—youth, homeless, poor, dubious backgro—"

“Then I’ll come out of this little project unscathed,” you cut him, “and you can say ‘I told you so.”

“And if you’re right?”

The question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken implications. If you were right and it wasn’t just a drug epidemic, then it is indeed something far worse. Something beyond the comprehension of mere mortals. Something you’d hoped never to face again for it was the very reason that had once brought you so close to death.

"then I get to say I told you so," you replied, forcing a grin that didn't quite reach your eyes. You, of all people, knew if what you suspected was indeed true and something goes wrong tonight then you might not actually make it out alive.

Steeling yourself, you stepped out of the van, pulling your coat tighter against the night’s chill. With a final glance at Anton and the rest of the unofficial team, you gave a curt nod—a silent signal that the plan was in motion.

Truthfully, you’d never planned to get involved in this case—or any case for that matter. You were just a data analyst, seconded to the Ministry of Justice to modernize their outdated systems. It was supposed to be a safe, back-office job. But fate had other plans.

When the first odd killings started cropping up, you’d recognized the signs immediately. The patterns were unmistakable—just like the ones from eight years ago. Still, you stayed quiet, trusting the experts to handle it. This was the capital city, after all—surely, the investigators here wouldn’t fall victim to the same manipulation and incompetence as your small town had before.

But you were wrong.

Just like how authorities back then easily latched onto a convenient red herring, the Criminal Investigations Department here, dismissed the deaths as nothing more than a string of drug-related incident. And that was when you decided to take matters into your own hands. The sloppy slashing on the victims’ necks to hide bite marks, the feral attacks perfectly timed with rising homelessness and drug abuse—it was all too deliberate. Someone was definitely orchestrating this. Someone who knew how to exploit public sentiment and navigate around the intricacies of public policies to mask their crimes.

The Criminal Investigations Department didn’t believe you of course. You could have all the data in the world and use the most expensive software to churn your model and still all they see is just another desk jockey—naive, out of touch, and blind to the so-called realities of the field.

And so, here you were, about to test your model in this so-called field that they held in such high regard.

You stepped deeper into the alley. All sounds from faraway city had disappeared by then—filling the empty maze with eerie silence. Shadows stretched and folded over you, growing heavier with every step. Then, behind you, the faint echo of footsteps began.

You tightened your grip on the dagger hidden in your sleeve.

Making yourself the bait tonight was a calculated risk, just like every other part of your plan. If the pattern in your simulation was correct—and that the culprit were really bloodsuckers—the scent of fresh blood would draw them straight to you.

So with swift resolute movements you quickly pricked your finger against the blade, just enough for a bead of crimson to well up. The shift was immediate. The air grew heavy, the faint echo of footsteps reached your ears, and the lights above flickered, one by one.

Anxiety clawed at the edges of your resolve, threatening to boil over. But you pushed it down—there was no room for error or stalling. You had to keep moving, to reach the junction as planned. The junction wasn't just any random spot; it had been chosen carefully. Its CCTV placements made it ideal for monitoring, and your team was supposed to be stationed at key points, ready to act if anything went wrong. Timing was everything because if you didn’t make it before someone—or something—caught you, the entire operation could fall apart.

Except when you reached the junction and rounded the corner, you didn't see any signals from your team. You looked at the other end, also none. Fuck, you thought, the dread coiling tight in your chest. If your backup wasn’t here, then you might really be alone—in the middle of a potential serial killer’s or bloodsucker hunting ground.

But there was no time or room for fear. So with sharp fluid movements, you pulled the gun from your holster, cocking it in one swift motion as you turned sharply, ready to fire at whatever might be following you. Except, there was nothing. Only an alley stretching out, empty and undisturbed.

A shaky exhale escaped your lips. Maybe it had been your own footsteps echoing after all. You cast a quick glance over your shoulder, scanning every shadow one last time before reaching for your phone. Your fingers hovered over the screen, ready to fire off a message to the team demanding their whereabouts.

Then suddenly, there was a blur of movements but just as you looked up, a gloved hand clamped your mouth, yanking you backward, causing you to drop your gun. You kicked, twisting violently in his grasp, but it was like trying to break free from iron. Another hand gripped your waist, lifting you off the ground before slamming you into a cold brick wall.

The next thing you knew the attacker pressed his forearm hard against your throat, cutting off your air and blurring your visions. Panic clawed at your chest as you thrashed harder, but even through the haze, you saw his eyes—glowing faintly in the darkness, flickering like embers of a dying fire.

For a split second, something passed through them. Recognition? Realization?

Whatever it was, you didn't spend any longer to ponder about it. Instead, you seized the moment of his momentary lapse, jabbing the dagger you concealed up until now, into his hand. He hissed, the sound unnatural and guttural, releasing you just enough for you to stumble free.

But then you saw it as you looked up: the way the wound on his hand was already healing, the flesh stitching itself together before your very eyes.

Not human.

You were correct, after all.

Then a sudden bloodcurdling scream tore through the alley, sharp and bone-chilling. Your head whipped toward the sound, the shock of it stealing your focus for a single, crucial moment. When you turned back, the assailant was already sprinting into the shadows, his pace unnaturally swift.

Cursing under your breath, you bolted after him, refusing to lose sight. But no matter how hard you pushed, he was faster—inhumanly fast in fact. He darted around a corner, but when you reached it, it was a dead-end and he was gone, leaving nothing but silence in his wake.

"What?" you muttered, bewildered, your breathing ragged as your eyes darted around, scanning the area for any hidden doors or passages. There were none.

Your phone suddenly buzzed; it was Anton. When you answered, his voice spilled out, panicked and strained—a contrast to his usual soft-spoken calm, “y/n! Please tell me you’re okay. Please tell me you’re—”

“Anton, I’m fine,” you cut him off, your voice tight.

“Fuck.” Anton cursed—a rare slip. “One of the agents found a body. Said it was bloodless. I thought- I-”

“Where?” you demanded sharply. "Okay, I'll see you there."

You spun on your heels, already halfway to bolting, when an odd crunch under your shoe froze you in place. The sound echoed unnaturally in the suffocating silence of the alley, sharp and out of place. It was something metallic that glinted faintly in the dim light.

Slowly, cautiously, you bent down and picked it up.

It was a brooch, heavy and ornate, its craftsmanship disturbingly perfect.

Your fingers traced the coat of arms etched into the metal: a spiked crown loomed at the top, flanked by a raven and a wolf poised like sentinels. Between them rested a shield, and at its very center, encased in intricate filigree, was a ruby—a dark, smoldering gem that glowed faintly as though alive. It pulsed, dim and irregular, like the heartbeat of something ancient and unspeakable. Beneath the crest, the words were etched in a precise, unnerving script:

"In shadows, we endure. In blood, we rise."

Your breath caught, your chest tightening with a visceral, unnameable dread. The ruby seemed to grow warmer against your skin, the faint light flickering as if responding to the fear blooming inside you.

That was when it hit you.

You’d seen this crest before. The realization struck like a blow, dredging up something long buried—a truth you had fought to forget.

No. It couldn’t be. Your mind grasped for another explanation, anything but the one clawing its way to the surface. But the brooch felt heavier in your palm, its ruby pulsing faintly, as if mocking your denial.

A rush of memories broke through the floodgates, sharp and disjointed flashes that cut through your resolve: bloodied lips, the metallic taste of iron, a pained gaze—and the weight of betrayal pressing into your chest.

“Sunghoon,” you whispered, the name falling from your lips like a curse.

— ii

“Told you it would work,” you nudged Anton as you headed towards the meeting room where you were supposed to meet the Detective Chief Inspector.

“It made a ‘work’ out of you too,” Anton replied begrudgingly, clicking his tongue as his eyes trace the bruise on your neck and the cuts on your hand.

“I’d say it’s worth it,” you shrugged, looking awfully calm and happy for someone who had a brush with death just last night.

True, you got berated by your boss for acting recklessly on your own and putting your life in line but it was all worth it, you thought. Afterall not only did you manage to put a question mark on the current narrative but in doing so, you have also forced the Criminal Investigations Department to take you and your work seriously. After months of being treated lightly and as a joke, you couldn’t help but feel triumphant to see the Detective Chief Superintendent personally walking to your office this morning — requesting assistance on how his department can utilise the model you had built.

“Well let’s hope the Detective they send for me this time isn’t another boomer or misogynist as the rest of the lot has been,” Anton handed you the photocopies he had made, wishing you luck as he held the door of the meeting room open for you. You quickly set up the meeting room, turning on your laptop while setting the copies and relevant files neatly in the middle of the table.

You hadn’t slept all night but this was the most energised you have felt in months. In fact, so absorbed you were, you didn’t notice the figure at first. Your focus was on the documents, your pen tapping lightly against the table as you scanned line after line of text.

It wasn’t until the faintest flicker of movement passed beyond the glass walls of the meeting room that you looked up. At first, it was just a shadow—a fleeting outline that barely registered. Then, step by step, it came into focus.

Broad shoulders and a rigid stance that carried an effortless authority. Thick raven-black hair that caught the light like polished obsidian. Pale skin that seemed almost luminous under the sterile lights.

Your pen stilled in your hands, fingers unconsciously tightening around it as the door clicked open.

The scent hit you first—woodsy and citrusy. That cologne. The one you knew too well. It swept over you with a cruel familiarity, twisting your stomach as memories clawed at the edges of your mind, sharp and unwelcome.

You didn’t need to see his face to know.

And yet, when he stepped inside, bowing slightly—polite in a way that felt almost mocking—it still made your breath catch. By the time he straightened, your heart had already plummeted.

“Park Sunghoon,” you croaked, almost reflexively, your voice barely above a whisper. The name tasted bitter on your tongue, dredged up from a place you had tried to bury.

His gaze sharpened, dark eyes sweeping over you with clinical precision before his lips curved into a slow, deliberate smirk. His hand moved smoothly, locking the door behind him with a soft click that echoed far too loudly in the confined space.

“I don’t think we need introductions, then?” he drawled, his voice low and silken, every word laced with amusement.

Your hand moved instinctively to your back pocket, fingers fumbling for the dagger you always carried.

“Looking for this?" he asked nonchalantly as he pulled something out from his coat. It was a dagger – your dagger from last night. Before you could react, he flicked his wrist, sending it spinning through the air. It landed with a sharp thud, piercing through the stack of files in front of you. The deliberate impact echoed through the room, loud and accusatory.

“Don’t bother,” he said, his tone dismissive but firm. “You know you can’t kill me.”

You swallowed thickly, but forced your lips to curl into a dry, humorless smile. “Killing me here, in a glass-walled meeting room?” you asked, leaning casually back against the table as if you weren’t seconds from bolting. “That’d be messy, don’t you think? Hundreds of employees just outside. You’d need a whole army of PR vampires—or whatever you guys have—to cover it up.”

His smirk was slow, deliberate, like he enjoyed your attempt at bravado. “Even if my fury for you ran that deep,” he said, his voice a low purr, “I wouldn’t be that stupid.”

“Then why are you here?” you asked, your voice sharpening as you straightened, your fingers subtly curling into fists at your sides.

“Because someone has been causing havoc,” he said, his voice dropping to something colder. “And it turns out that someone is you. No surprise there—you’ve always been a thorn.”

You scoffed, “for a thorn you sure are taking your time eliminating me. Lingering feelings?”

His lips curved into another smirk, this one sharper, more dangerous. “You tell me,” he said, gesturing lazily toward your pocket. “You could’ve handed my crest over to the investigators. Why didn’t you?”

Your breath caught, realization dawning. He was right. The crest you’d kept instead of handing over to the Criminal Investigations Department—why hadn’t you? You’d lied to them, and for what?

“That’s not—”

“I’m not interested to hear your excuses actually,” Sunghoon interrupted smoothly, “let me just say if I want to kill you, I would have—be it yesterday or before. I’m letting you live because I need something from you. Your expertise.”

He fished out a file from his briefcase and slid it across the table towards you, “I’ve heard of the model you built. I think it’s brilliant.” His tone was casual, almost complimentary, but his eyes gleamed with something colder. “I have some additional data. It will definitely enhance your model. There is however a catch—whatever you find goes back to me. Not to your boss, not to the department. Just me.”

Your eyes flitted suspiciously from the file to him, “why would I do that? For all I know you’re just trying to mess the investigations up.”

“I mean you guys are already fumbling the investigations as it is," he scoffed. "Look. You, of all people, know that the authorities are powerless against my kind. If they meddle further, they’ll just get caught in the crossfire and make a bigger mess. Deadlier mess.”

“How do I know that you’re not behind it all?” you shot back, the accusation sharp. “It all clicks. You being here. You meddling in the investigations.”

His patience visibly thinned, his expression hardening. “If you hadn’t been messing around last night, that poor woman wouldn’t have been preyed upon,” he said, his tone like a blade. “Do you see it now? the implications of your tampering—of any human tampering?”

Your breath hitched as the weight of his words sank in: it was your fault. Your little game at baiting the undead last nigth had apparently led to the death of an innocent, “I wasn’t—”

“Save your guilt,” he snapped, his voice slicing through your stammered excuse. “I don’t have time for it. What I need is for your department to stop trampling through this mess so I can finish the job.”

You glared at him, still reeling. “Why do you need my model then? Don’t vampires have… superpowers or something? Shouldn’t you be able to track them down faster?”

His expression darkened, and for the first time, you saw something close to frustration in his eyes. “If it were that simple, you wouldn't even need to construct a quantitative model out of it.” he muttered. “Look, our worlds are not that different. We are scattered and fragmented but the more powerful you are, the more you blend in. The ones you have here is not like the usual. This is a network, vast and insidious, weaving itself into your world so deeply that even I can’t see where it begins or ends. They’re embedded in your systems. In your policies. This is why I can’t just go to someone or outsource it to a company to ask them to aid me in this—you never know who’s with who anymore, mortal or not.”

“And yet you trust me?”

“Trust? that’s rich coming from you,” he scoffed, his eyes narrowing with thinly veiled derision, as though he’d accidentally stepped on something unpleasant. “No I don’t trust you and I don’t need to. I need you to be useful, to be good. That’s your only insurance right now.”

“Actually you know what? you don’t have a choice,” he said, his voice unnervingly calm, as though he had already decided the conversation was over. “You can either help me clean up the mess you’ve started, or watch it spiral into something far beyond your control.”

He didn’t wait for an answer. The door clicked softly behind him as he left, leaving the faint echo of his words and the sharp scent of him—woodsy and citrusy, painfully familiar—lingering in the room.

It struck you then—how much he had changed. He was the same physically, but something about him felt far more oppressive now, his presence pressing down like a shadow too large to escape. His broad shoulders carried a weight that seemed heavier than before, not burdened, but deliberate—like the world bent itself to him, not the other way around. There was also a quiet gravity to his presence now, like a storm that hadn’t yet decided when to break.

In fact, even the smallest movements felt so charged and calculated. The tilt of his head, slight but purposeful, carried an air of disdain that cut deeper than any raised voice. His gaze was no less piercing than you remembered, but where it once burned with an intensity that sought to subdue, now it chilled—deliberate and calculating.

Now that you think about, he might not even be a storm looking for release—he was a tempest waiting to destroy.

You staggered backward, the sharp edges of the table behind you digging painfully into your spine, grounding you as the realization settled like a stone in your chest. Time hadn’t softened him; it had stripped him bare, refined him into something terrifying. He wasn’t just dangerous—he was inevitable.

— iii

You couldn’t decide who was more foolish at this point—yourself, for agreeing to work with Sunghoon despite the nightmare he’d put you through eight years ago, or Sunghoon, for still not carrying out whatever vengeance he had surely plotted for you during all that time. While you should be grateful for the latter, you can never put the thought aside–not with Sunghoon at least.

“If you’re done, email it to me immediately,” Sunghoon muttered without looking up, his eyes glued to the screen of his iPad.

As unbelievable as it sound, this had become your normal 5-9 now, churning additional data from Sunghoon and refine your code—all the while he lounge at your office, waiting for you to finish like a headmaster. Or a vulture.

You tore your gaze from him, frowning at the heatmap on your laptop. You’d expected his “additional data” to sharpen your model, maybe even tie up some loose ends. Instead, the trends you’d been working on became a tangled mess—sporadic points, clusters dissolving into chaos. “It’s messier now, thanks to your data,” you grumbled, sneaking a suspicious glance his way. “You’re not just feeding me duds to throw me off, are you?”

Without a word, Sunghoon rose from the couch and strolled over. It took everything in you not to flinch as your fight-or-flight instincts are still hardwired to react whenever he was near.

Oblivious to your unease, he leaned down to take the mouse from your hand, his cold presence making you shift uncomfortably in your chair. The cursor hovered over a dense cluster of points as he swiped through something on his iPad. “Actually, it’s perfect. Send this over.”

“This is perfect?” you scoffed in disbelief before you found your eyes involuntarily shifting to his iPad screen nearby where rows of profiles stared back at you—some with ominous red slashes across their faces.

“They’re people I’ve exterminated,” he said flatly as if reading your mind before you could form the question.

“I wasn—" your mouth went dry. “Exterminated?”

“Don’t worry,” he said nonchalantly as he snatched the iPad back. “They’re not human.”

You hit send just as he moved toward the door, speaking into his phone. “I think there are some new leads. Yes, I’ll take the car.”

“Hey—” you called out, hoping to pry more, but he was already out of your office. You lingered for a moment, the uneasy silence filling the space he left behind. Though you hated dwelling on him, you couldn’t help but feel that there was something different about Sunghoon—something colder, more detached, even by his standards. He felt hollow—as if this was just a shell of the man who had haunted you eight years ago.

But then again, did it really matter, you shrugged the thought off, at least he hadn’t killed you yet.

You grabbed your coat and followed him, catching up just as he reached a sleek black Benz idling at the curb. “If this is related to the case, I should go too,” you said firmly. “We’re working together, after all.”

He stopped mid-step, turning to face you. For a moment, the barest flicker of amusement crossed his face, gone so quickly you almost doubted it had been there.

“Working together?” he repeated, his tone laced with derision. “Look, this isn’t a partnership,” he said, his voice cool and detached. “You’re not my equal. You’re a tool—a useful one, for now—but a tool all the same. Don’t get confused.”

You bristled, heat rising to your cheeks. “You—”

But before you could finish, he slipped into the car and shut the door in your face.

“—prick,” you muttered under your breath.

That should have been your cue to drop it. To turn back and call it a day. But that would be very unlike of you.

Undeterred, or challenged rather, you quickly flagged a cab nearby, sliding into the backseat. “Follow that car,” you instructed, your voice steady despite the adrenaline surging through you. “But keep some distance. He has eyes at the back of his head...” your voice trailed, grimacing at the memory of Sunghoon and his arrogance. Probably the only thing unchanged, you thought as you sink back into the seat.

The drive began uneventfully, Sunghoon’s car weaving through familiar streets of the central business district—all skyscrapers and corporate logos. You watched intently, expecting him to stop near one of the clusters your heatmap had predicted. But then he took an unexpected turn—away from downtown and into unfamiliar territory.

“Where’s he going?” you mumbled, staring out the window. Instead of decaying alleyways or abandoned districts—the usual spots you were tracking—the car rolled through rows of pristine streets where luxury cars were neatly parked outside glittering buildings. This wasn’t the kind of place you would associate with the victims of the recent serial killings—or with him, in fact. With the 1%, celebrities and socialites perhaps, but not him.

“Your guy just got out,” the driver called, jolting you from your thoughts.

Sure enough, Sunghoon had exited the car. But it wasn’t the Sunghoon you’d followed all evening. He was wearing a tailored tuxedo now, his raven hair swept back in a way that made him look effortlessly polished, like he belonged on the cover of a magazine. While others flashed passes to the doorman to gain entry into the towering, shard-like skyscraper, Sunghoon merely nodded—and the door opened for him, as if the place were his.

You stared, dumbfounded. A party? A date? You thought for a split second, even considering turning the car back around. Perhaps, he really wasn’t pursuing any leads tonight and you’re just being a nosy stalker.

“Miss, I’m not your personal chauffeur so if you can get off now—”

“You know what, I’ll pay you extra,” you said, handing the driver a wad of cash. “Wait for me here—I just need to confirm some things.”

“I’m not—” he started, but his protest died the moment you waved another wad of cash. He sighed, exasperated. “Fine. Ten minutes.”

“Deal,” you muttered, slipping out of the car and immediately regretting it. Clad in your office attire, you stuck out like a sore thumb as elegantly dressed guests brushed past you, the scent of expensive perfume lingering in the air.

The towering skyscraper ahead loomed like a beacon of opulence and exclusivity, its glass facade reflecting the city lights in dazzling patterns. The entrance buzzed with high society chatter—sweeping gowns, tailored suits, and muted conversations that felt worlds apart from your reality. Whoever was hosting this wasn’t just powerful—they were untouchable.

You tried to blend in, keeping your head low as you slipped into the flow of guests. But before you reached the doors, a burly security guard stepped into your path.

“Pass?”

“I—uh,” you stammered, scrambling for an excuse. “I’m with Park Sunghoon,” you lied, willing your voice to sound composed. “I’m his personal assistant,” you added, forcing yourself not to gag, “and he left his phone so I’m here to deliver it back to him.”

The guard’s suspicion was immediate. He squinted at you, then glanced at his colleague. “Wait here,” he said curtly, retreating to his desk and picking up the phone. As he made the call, his shifting expressions told you everything you needed to know—your story wasn’t holding up.

Before you could quietly slip away however, you felt the sudden grip of two guards seizing your arms from behind.

“Lord Park says he doesn’t know you,” the first guard returned, his smug expression practically oozing satisfaction. “Nor does he have a personal assistant. He has also requested that we report you to the nearest station for attempted trespassing. If you’ll follow—”

His voice faded into the background as panic set in. Your mind raced, adrenaline surging as you desperately tried to think of a way out. Perhaps show my work ID, you thought, but that won’t be ethical. Perhaps give them a kick, you pondered, come on, what’s a kick going to do against 2 buff guards.

“y/n?”

The voice cut through the noise like a lifeline, warm and familiar, yet so painfully out of place in a setting like this.

You turned sharply, and your breath caught.

There, standing in front of you, was someone you barely recognized.

“Sunoo?” you blurted, blinking as if your brain needed time to process what you were seeing.

Gone were the oversized hoodies and worn-out sneakers. The Sunoo before you now was practically dripping in luxury—a designer suit tailored to perfection, sleek leather loafers, and a watch you were pretty sure cost more than your apartment. His hair was immaculately styled, his face radiating the kind of confidence and wealth that turned heads.

“It is you!” he exclaimed, a broad grin splitting his face, softening his features to the Sunoo you remembered from eight years ago. Your best friend, Kim Sunoo.

You wanted to revel in the reunion, to cling to the warmth of familiarity, but the weight of the moment sank into you like a stone. Slowly, it dawned on you how ominous it all was—how Sunghoon and Sunoo could now be tied so closely. You remembered the tension between them eight years ago all too well, the lengths you went to keep them apart. The bargain you had struck with Sunghoon just so he’d leave him alone.

And yet, here they were, looking as though they were cut from the same cloth.

“Let her go. She’s with me,” Sunoo snapped at the guards, his grin vanishing in an instant, replaced by an expression of sharp disdain. The shift was jarring, his tone unrecognizable—cutting, cold, and entirely unlike him.

— iv

“Wine?”

Sunoo gestured at the uniformed staff pushing a gleaming silver cart toward you. The plates were stacked high with decadent hors d'oeuvres, and some accompanying bottles of wines that looked like it cost three times more than your monthly rent.

You shook your head, watching as Sunoo casually reached for his third glass. “You used to hated drinking,” you muttered.

“Well, the world I live in now is different—" he smirked, “—so are my tastes."

Before you could respond, Sunoo grabbed you by the side of your arms, swivelling you toward the floor-to-ceiling window which overlooked the grand hall below. "Take a good look, y/n. This is the upper echeleons of society."

Your gaze fell on the scene below: a vast, glittering ballroom with a massive crystal chandelier casting golden light over an impeccably dressed crowd. Designer gowns swept the marble floor, and tuxedos gleamed under the light. Waiters glided like shadows, balancing trays of champagne flutes and hors d’oeuvres.

“What is this place?” you asked, dragging your eyes back to him.

“It’s the Charity Gala of the year,” Sunoo said, his voice filled with a casual air you didn’t quite believe. “Officially, it’s a fundraiser for disaster relief in Southeast Asia. Unofficially—” he took a deliberate sip from his glass, his fourth, though he still seemed unbelievably sober, “—it’s a playground for the 1%. A chance to flaunt their wealth, rub shoulders with the powerful, and make backroom deals over overpriced wine.” He raised his glass in mock celebration. “Welcome to their world, y/n. The air up here is great.”

Your stomach twisted as you tried to reconcile this version of Sunoo with the one you’d once known. But before you could dwell on it, your wandering gaze caught something that made your blood run cold.

Park Sunghoon.

He was in the center of the ballroom, effortlessly commanding attention without seeking it. His raven-black hair was swept back, his tailored suit flawless, and a glass of wine rested lightly in his hand. But it wasn’t his appearance that made you freeze—it was the way he seemed to own the room, as though every person there unconsciously revolved around him. He moved through the crowd with an ease that was almost unsettling, exchanging words with men in expensive suits and women draped in jewels.

This wasn’t the Sunghoon you remembered. Back then, he was distant, deliberately anti-social, and disdainful of any social niceties when in a crowd. Now, he was polished, poised, and completely in his element—like a diplomat or a politician.

And yet, what truly froze you wasn’t his transformation. It was his gaze—for when he looked up, his eyes found yours in chilling precision. As if he knew you were there; as if he knew you had been staring.

Shit, you drew back instinctively, trying to stay away from his line of sight.

“y/n?” Sunoo’s voice jolted you out of your spiralling thoughts. “You said you were here because of someone is it?”

You forced a laugh, trying to sound casual. “Yeah, someone I know left some stuff with me, so I was going to return it. But, apparently, I needed a pass.”

“Who is it? I’ll help you find them,” Sunoo offered, clearly oblivious to the tension rolling off you.

“No, no, it’s fine,” you said quickly, waving him off. “I just got a text—they said they don’t need it anymore. I’ll just head out—”

“Go back? Are you kidding me?” Sunoo interrupted, his hand gripping yours as he started to drag you across the room. “Come on, y/n. There’s no way I’m letting you miss this opportunity. You’re practically at the nexus of power and privilege. Everyone who is anyone is in here. I’ll introduce you to some top brass. Permanent secretaries, directors—you name it. I’m pretty sure they’d love to meet someone as sharp as you. You deserve to climb the ladder faster.”

“Sunoo, I—just give me a minute,” you stammered, trying to stall.

But Sunoo was already weaving you through the glittering crowd, his excitement palpable as he introduced you to people whose names blurred together in your head. Your nerves prickled with every passing moment, the hum of conversations swelling louder, pressing in on you. Then, one of them—an ex-politician—broke through your haze.

“Oh! You said you’re from the Ministry of Justice? Then you must know—” His words trailed off as his gaze shifted, scanning the room.

When he turned back, the crowd parted just enough to reveal Sunghoon, standing tall and composed, clinking his glass with a man who radiated power and authority.

Your heart plummeted and instinctively you shrank back, hoping the dim lighting would shield you. But then Sunoo's grip tightened around your hand, a sudden and unwelcome anchor.

“Sunoo, just let go—” you wrenched your hand away, perhaps a little too roughly, for he looked at you all confused as if you had struck him. "Sorry," you stammered, your voice low and frantic, “—bathroom.” Before he could even say anything, you had already turned on your heel, letting yourself get swallowed by the crowd. Except instead of reprieve, the air grew heavier with every step, the clinking of glasses and muted laughter morphing into a sinister undercurrent. The wine in their hands seemed darker, richer, almost like blood under the golden lights.

Finally, you found a door and without even sparing another second, you slipped out, closing the door behind you. You pressed your back against the cool surface of the door, exhaling shakily as you fought to steady yourself. The chill of the corridor was a stark contrast to the stifling opulence you’d just escaped, yet the unease clung to you like a second skin. Even here, away from the crowd, you couldn’t shake the feeling that unseen eyes were still watching, waiting.

“Thought I smelled something that didn’t belong—"

You froze, turning to find yourself surrounded by a group of men—three to be exact. At first glance, they looked as though they had stepped off the cover of a glossy magazine, all chiseled features and effortless grace. But there was something off about them. Their beauty was uncanny, a little too perfect, too symmetrical—like sculptures that had come to life but had missed the soul that should have animated them.

Yet, it wasn’t their appearance that sent shivers racing down your spine—it was the way they moved. They encircled you with slow, deliberate steps, each movement fluid, almost predatory, like Hyenas.

Your pulse quickened as the weight of their gazes bore down on you.

“Yeah, this one probably weaseled her way in,” the other one murmured, giving you a once-over that made your skin crawl, “journalist? fangirl?”

“Maybe it’s one of those waitresses again,” the other one scoffed, “remember how someone stole a dress and paraded around as a socialite during last year’s gala?”

“Ah- right,” the first one drew closer, “well, guess what? We are feeling very generous tonight and would like to give you a personal private tour. How's that?”

You evaded his hand just as he was about to wrap it over your shoulder, only to bump into the other who had closed in from the other side, his hand seizing yours like talons, “she’s warm.”

You yanked your arm free, retreating instinctively, only to collide with the cold, unyielding wall behind you.

“Actually, the wines weren’t cutting it,” the third one said, turning to his companions, who exchanged knowing grins, as though sharing a thought without needing words, “—but you,” he continued, his gaze snapping back to you with an intensity that made your skin crawl, “might just do.”

“You guys are messing with the wrong person,” you spat, feigning confidence despite the tremor in your voice. “I’m with Park—Lord Park, and he won’t take too kindly to a bunch of lower beings harassing his guest.”

“Oh, Lord Park,” the first one sneered, leaning in closer, his breath cold against your ear. “Pretty sure he wouldn’t notice if one of his toys went missing.”

Laughter rippled between them, dark and taunting, and your stomach churned.

“You guys better piss off before—before I—” you broke off, your fumbling hands grazed something cool and solid behind you—a decorative vase perched precariously on a ledge. Without hesitation, you grabbed it and hurled it to the floor. The porcelain shattered with a deafening crash, the sound ricocheting through the corridor like a gunshot.

The distraction worked and the men recoiled for a split second—just enough for you to twist free and bolt.

You didn’t think. You didn’t look back. You just ran, your heels clicking frantically against the marble floor, heart pounding in rhythm with your steps. Their shouts grew fainter as you darted through the twisting hallways, rounding the corner when—slam.

You barrelled straight into something—or rather, someone.

The impact sent you stumbling back, but a strong hand shot out, steadying you with an iron grip. Dread pooled in your stomach as your gaze lifted, meeting a pair of dark piercing eyes.

It wasn’t one of them.

It was Sunghoon.

And frankly, you didn't know which one was worse.

He glanced past you to the commotion down the hall, then back to your flushed, panicked face. His eyes meeting yours in such inscrutable and cold way that it was entirely possible to you that he had sent those three men down your way.

“Lord Park,” one of the men murmured, their voices dropping into something that sounded both reverent and fearful. The shift in their demeanor was immediate. The playfulness vanished, replaced by something closer to submission. They exchanged glances, their earlier bravado crumbling under the weight of his command.

“Didn’t she say she is with me?” Sunghoon’s voice was quiet but lethal, each word laced with venom. His tone was flat, almost disinterested, but the menace beneath it was unmistakable, “and you guys still had the audacity to mess with what’s mine?”

The words hit you like a cold wind, cutting through your defenses. You didn’t flinch outwardly, but inside, you recoiled—the weight of his casual claim felt heavier than it had any right to be. While the possessiveness in his tone unsettled you, what struck harder was the irony: how the very lie you’d spun to escape trouble was now your lifeline. Worse still, it was being wielded by the one who was being taken advantage of.

“Of course not,” one of them stammered, his words spilling out in a frantic rush.

“We’d never dare,” another muttered, bowing his head slightly as if the act alone might spare him from further scrutiny.

The three men backed away, their movements stiff and deliberate, muttering apologies that barely reached the air before they vanished into the shadows.

The hallway emptied as quickly as it had filled, leaving only you and Sunghoon behind. But as the men disappeared into the shadows, the oppressive weight of their presence was replaced by something just as stifling—Sunghoon’s gaze, dark and commanding, boring into you like a spotlight, leaving no room for escape.

You instinctively tried to yank your arm free from his grasp, but his grip was vice-like—firm and unrelenting. “Let go,” you demanded, your voice steady.

“You’re the one who said you’re with me, aren’t you?” he countered, his brow lifting in mocking amusement. “Let’s go then.”

“Sunghoon—” you began to protest, but his hold tightened as he dragged you down the corridor. His pace was deliberate, each step unhurried, but there was no mistaking the force in his pull. Before you could fully processed it, the elevator doors slid shut behind you, sealing the two of you in a tense, suffocating silence.

“You shouldn’t have come,” he said flatly, his tone devoid of emotion, the words hitting like a slap. “You don’t belong here.”

Your chest tightened, the sting of his words sharp and deliberate. “Thank you for stating the obvious,” you shot back sharply. “You, on the other hand, look like you belong. Almost didn’t recognize you with all the mushy act. Maturing at last? Bit late for your age, don’t you think?”

His brow arched, the faintest flicker of amusement crossing his face. “Careful,” he said, his voice deceptively calm, “with that much interest, I might start thinking you missed me.”

The elevator dinged, and you expected him to release you. Instead, his grip only tightened as he pulled you across the lobby.

“Sunghoon—where are we—” you protested, your voice rising, drawing the attention of a few onlookers. “Sunghoon, let me go—let me—”

“You brought this on yourself, y/n,” he interrupted, his voice cutting clean through your panic. The dread hit you fully as you saw his Benz from earlier pull up to the curb. “You need to be taught a hard lesson—” he said, his tone dark, ominous, his grip tightening with every resistance from you, “—then maybe next time, you’ll think twice before running your mouth so carelessly.”

With unsettling ease, he opened the car door, shoving you unceremoniously into the backseat. You barely had time to twist toward the exit before he stepped into the doorway, his frame filling the space, blocking any chance of escape. Before you could shove him away, his hand moved as if he’d anticipated it—catching yours mid-motion with startling precision. The swiftness of it stole your breath, his grip unrelenting as it pinned your arm in place. The harder you tried to pull free, the more his hold seemed to tighten—like a quicksand—rendering you completely immobile with an ease that sent a cold shiver racing down your spine.

“Take her home,” Sunghoon ordered towards his driver curtly, his voice sharp and devoid of patience, his eyes never leaving yours.

“I can go home on my own,” you snapped.

“I’m sure you can,” he replied, his tone calm but razor-sharp. “But you won’t. Not after the havoc you wreaked earlier, with people you shouldn’t have.”

“But they—”

“—won’t let you go that easily. That's for certain.” he finished for you, his voice dropping low, slicing through your protest. His grip on your arm tightened one last time before he threw it back, the motion sending you off balance, your palms hitting the seat behind you to steady yourself.

Leaning into the open doorway, his eyes pinned you in place, his voice quiet but venomous. “He’ll take you home,” he muttered darkly, “or you’ll just never see home ever again.”

And with that, he slammed the door shut before walking back to the tower, the sound reverberating like the final nail in a coffin. No chance to argue. No chance to escape.

— v

Things settled back into a strained rhythm after that evening at the Charity Gala, though Sunghoon had stopped lingering. He would appear occasionally, dropping off new data without a word, then vanish as swiftly as he came. You told yourself it was better this way. His presence was, afterall, suffocating—a storm cloud hovering just out of reach. But no matter how hard you tried to bury the thoughts, the elephant in the room loomed larger with every passing moment of silence: Why had he let you live this long?

You knew Sunghoon hadn’t forgiven your betrayal. And yet, here you were—alive, breathing, and watching the shadows too closely because of him. Perhaps this was his punishment for you—making the guilt gnaw you from inside and driving you to the brink of insanity.

Then, one day, an invitation came out of nowhere.

The oxblood-coloured envelope was thick and weighty, its golden wax seal embossed with an unfamiliar crest that glinted under the light like a silent threat. You stared at it for a long moment before picking it up, turning it over in your hands.

“Wait—” Anton’s voice broke through your thoughts as he leaned over your desk, wide-eyed. “Is that—?”

“What?” you asked warily, still staring at the envelope as if it might bite.

“Noctis Imperium,” Anton breathed, his tone reverent.

You frowned. “Noctis what now?”

Anton looked at you like you’d just admitted you didn’t know how to breathe. “Noctis Imperium. It’s an exclusive retreat for the 1% — total luxury and opulence somewhere in the Montes Obscuri—you know the mountain range you can’t even find on google map? Point is, It’s completely exclusive. Totally off the grid. No cameras, no leaks, no nothing. Just power brokers, decision-makers, and untouchables all in one place.”

“Sounds pretentious,” you scoffed, breaking the seal.

He leaned closer, lowering his voice as if the walls might be listening. “People call it a modern-day Bohemian Grove but... darker. Rumor has it that the deals made there don’t just change industries—they change entire nations.”

You shook your head dismissively as you pulled out the invitation. The embossed gold lettering shimmered faintly in the light:

To Our Chosen Few, The Noctis Imperium convenes soon, A place where maps end and silence consumes. Beneath the shadow of the Blood Moon, shapers and wielders come forge their runes. This is not a request, nor a courtesy—it is an acknowledgment of your place among those who command the currents of power. Your passage has been arranged. You will be expected.

“I’m a data analyst, not a billionaire,” you muttered, “perhaps they mailed it to the wrong room- ah—" your fingers brushed a small note tucked inside which read ‘From: Sunoo.’ “Well, perks of having connections, right?”

“Who cares?” Anton said, waving it off. “If I were you, I’d go. Network the hell out of it. Who knows? You might end up running this whole city someday.”

“To be honest, I’d probably die before I even get promoted,” you deadpanned, “My Reaper is just around the corner anyway—" you muttered nonchalantly. It was a casual claim, thrown carelessly into the air in reference to Sunghoon, but one that would echo with far more weight than you could possibly realize at that point in time.

The day passed in a blur, yet the envelope lingered in the recesses of your mind, a nagging presence you couldn’t quite shake. It resurfaced sharply at the end of the day, your steps faltering when the security guard stopped you just as you were about to leave the office.

“Madam, sorry to bother you, but did you receive your invitation?”

“Excuse me?”

“The red envelope, ma’am. There were only two sent to this building—one for you and one for the gentleman. I was told that it is very important that you receive and read it.”

“Yes. I got—" you halted, “—wait, the gentleman? Which one?”

The guard nodded. “The one who’s been visiting you. Mr. Park, I believe.”

Your stomach twisted. Sunghoon.

You mumbled a distracted thanks.

Of course, he is also invited.

The thought continued to gnaw at you afterwards, echoing in your mind as you climbed into the waiting cab. Your invitation had came from Sunoo but now that you knew Sunghoon, too, had been invited reframed everything. It meant that the Noctis Imperium wasn’t just any retreat of shallow opulence. In fact, the words in the letter, which you have dismissed as being far too pretentious and unnecessarily cryptic, now carried a weight that felt unnervingly and ominously real.

Had he always been part of this? Your mind flashed to him at the party, the ease with which he’d navigated the room, the smiles, the warmth—a performance so seamless it made your skin crawl. He very much look like he belonged.

You sank into the back of the cab, pulling out your laptop and flipping it open. You couldn’t shake the unease now that you look at the simulation your model had churned. The data—the tangled mess of trends and points you’d been staring at for weeks—felt like it was hiding something, just out of reach.

Sunghoon’s words from weeks ago echoed faintly in your mind: “They’re embedded in your systems. In your policies.”

“What if it’s a team effort?” you murmured to yourself as you pull up your coding window, inserting several data and refining the code to allow for some different sets of filtering. This time,  one layer of noise dropped. Another filter, another layer gone.

Slowly, patterns emerged where there had been none. The suspects—every single one—had histories that aligned: mental institutionalization, retrenchment, depression diagnoses. All of which conveniently could serve as motives behind drug abuse and the sudden violence as a byproduct of such addiction. The victims on the other hand were from the bottom rung of society – the homeless, the poor, the invisible – people whose deaths wouldn’t have made dent and wouldn’t have been fought for.

If it is a team effort and that they’re embedded in every sector, you pondered toggling with the filters, then the demand and supply can be carefully managed.

Eight years ago, a similar pattern emerged in your little town—but it was confined to a pureblood and a couple of strays.  But this? This was larger. It was a system beneath the system. An empire operating in shadows. Or perhaps, you thought, it's a collusion of system that straddle both worlds.

You sunk back into your seat, your head spinning as you realised the gravity of the situation if indeed true. Outside, the city blurred past, its twinkling lights reflected across glass and metal surfaces like fleeting stars. The golden seal of the invitation caught your eye where it lay in your bag, gleaming faintly. As if it was beckoning you.

You hesitated, the weight of the decision pressing down on you. In another life—one with stability, comfort, and certainty—you might have left that envelope unopened, dismissed it as someone else’s game. But that wasn’t your life, was it? Not anymore.

Not since Sunghoon's returned at least. For since his reappearance, your days had become a delicate balancing act, every step more precarious than the last, every shadow in corner felt more ominous by the passing day. With your data pointing toward something vast and insidious, the invitation felt less like a trap and more like an opportunity. Reckless? Yes. But what choice did you have? This was a chance to get closer to the truth, to the root of the tangled chaos that had consumed your life.

The seal gleamed as the cab pulled at a traffic stop—a quiet and unyielding challenge.

Your resolve solidified in that moment.

By the time the cab pulled up to your apartment, you had already submitted your leave request: two weeks, no questions asked. Moving on autopilot, you packed a small bag—your laptop, backups of the data, and whatever else you thought you might need.

You didn’t know if you were walking into a trap or uncovering the truth. But either way, you were determined to find out. You were, afterall, already walking a tightrope as it is.

— vi

True enough, the farther the drive went, the more foreboding the journey became. An hour and a half in, the landscape had transformed into an endless expanse of towering ancient trees. The sun, so bright when you’d left the city, was nowhere to be found—as though you’d been transported into a realm of perpetual darkness.

You glanced at your phone, hoping in vain that you'd a get a signal. Nothing. Nada. But then it wasn't like the signal would have helped, Google Maps showed you that your destination is buried in middle of an unbroken expanse of green—no landmarks, no markings, not even a hint of civilization.

Anton wasn’t exaggerating, you thought, unease coiling tighter in your chest. It's one thing for the retreat to be shrouded in so much secrecy; but another for it to actually be able to evade global mapping systems entirely.

“We’re here, Madam,” the driver announced as the car turned into a gated lawn. Through the dense canopy of ancient trees, you caught glimpses of something massive looming in the distance. Its spires pierced the sky, clawing out from the forested expanse like talons.

“A manor?”

“A castle, Madam,” the driver corrected, the car’s tires crunching over the gravel path. “One of the few left. Very highly protected.”

The path wound sharply uphill, twisting like a serpent as it climbed higher into the forested slope. Ancient wrought-iron torches lined the way, their uneven intervals casting flickering pools of golden light that danced across the shadows of the towering trees. With each turn, more of the castle came into view, unraveling piece by piece. Its gothic silhouette loomed larger with every moment, the sheer size of it making the air seem heavier, as though the structure itself demanded reverence. "I can see why," you sighed, in complete awe.

By the time the car reached the final bend, the forest opened up completely, revealing the castle in all its glory. Perched atop the hill like a sentinel, its massive stone walls seemed to rise endlessly into the sky, adorned with spires and arches that looked almost alive in their intricacy. The grandeur of it was otherworldly, a masterpiece of both architecture and menace.

By the time the car slowed to a stop before the entrance, the sun had fully set—its descent perfectly timed, as if orchestrated to embody the very essence of the Noctis Imperium which aptly translated as 'The Empire of Shadows'. You checked back the agenda and true enough, every events were set to start once the sun sets.

“Madam y/n,” a pair of what looked like a maid and a butler, judging from the uniform, greeted you. “Please come with us, we have been assigned to you. We shall show you around and show you to your suite.”

As you followed the maid, you swallowed thickly, your steps faltering at the sight before you. The castle loomed larger up close, its presence more imposing and ominous than you had imagined. Crimson light seeped through the towering windows, bathing the weathered stone in an eerie glow, as though the building itself pulsed with a forbidden life force. At the grand entrance, blood-red flowers coiled up the walls, their tendrils creeping toward the arched doorway like veins, giving the unsettling impression that the castle was bleeding from within. The effect was grotesque yet mesmerizing, made even more chilling by the gargoyles crouched on the jagged edges of the roof, their wretched expressions seemingly serve as a warning.

As you ventured deeper into the castle, the emptiness and stillness seemed to press heavier around you, yet the unsettling sensation of being watched clung to you like a second skin. Faces in oil paintings—pale, sharp-featured men and women—appeared to shift in the corner of your vision, their painted eyes tracking your every move with unnerving precision. Shadows lingered in the corners, seeming to stir with faint, unnatural movement, and more than once, you swore you heard footsteps trailing behind you. But each time you turned, you found nothing but darkness pooling at your heels.

“Madam y/n,” the maid interrupted your thoughts as they stopped at the farthest corner of the fifth floor, “this will be your suite.”

She pushed open the massive double doors, revealing a room so grand it could have swallowed your entire apartment twice over. The space was opulent yet cold—ancient but well-kept. Rich, crimson drapes framed the tall windows, shielding the suite from whatever darkness lurked outside. The bed was enormous, its carved wooden posts supporting a canopy of deep velvet that seemed to absorb all light. The furniture—ornate dressers, armchairs, and a writing desk—looked like it had been plucked straight from a century long past.

Despite the beauty and grandiosity, the room was no less comforting than the dark corridors outside as it felt both untouched and meticulously staged—like a theater set waiting for its players to arrive.

“Madam,” the maid’s voice drew your attention. She moved to a dresser near the far wall and opened its doors, revealing a collection that left your mouth slightly agape. “These are from Mr. Kim Sunoo,” she explained, gesturing gracefully at the contents. “He has prepared a selection of designers for you to choose from. One for each evening.”

Designer gowns of every color and cut hung delicately, their fabrics shimmering faintly in the dim light. Silks, chiffons, and velvets, all rich and lush, stitched with gold and silver threads. Each one looked painstakingly curated, designed to command attention. A far cry from the practical wardrobe you were used to.

Far from being delighted and spoiled for choice however – the uneasiness you feel only grew. This did not felt like hospitality.

It felt like preparation.

— vii

You stood hestiantly in front of the Hall of Ascendancy—the weight of the decision pressing down on you. You had considered skipping tonight’s welcome dinner altogether—after all, unlike everyone, you weren’t exactly here to mingle and shake hands with elites. But, given the circumstances, skipping would only attract unwanted attention and you weren’t about to make waves before you had a clearer understanding of what you were truly stepping into.

You stared at your reflection in a nearby polished surface, taking in the sleek black suede long-sleeved gown you had chosen for tonight. Its asymmetrical cut was understated but elegant—one shoulder covered, the other left bare, the smooth fabric dipping to reveal your collarbone. The golden phoenix embellishments—one over the shoulder and the other delicately positioned just above the curve of your chest following the neckline—shimmered faintly under the low light, resting on the rich fabric as if they were alive. It was a dress that does not scream for attention, but one that still whispered sophistication.

Just as you stood there, caught between hesitation and obligation, a butler appeared at your side, pushing a cart laden with Venetian masks. He glanced at you briefly, his expression polite but unreadable. “It’s tradition Madam,” he said, his voice smooth and practiced, beckoning you to pick any one of the masks. “Everyone is supposed to be equals once inside. The masks ensure that no one stands above the others, no titles, no status. Simply anonymity.”

Guests ahead of you eagerly snatched the most ornate masks—studded with jewels, embroidered in gold filigree, some even fashioned with feathers that curved skyward. You, by contrast, reached for the most unassuming one: a black Colombina Venetian mask with faded bronze detailing. It blended into the shadows, almost disappearing entirely. Just as you preferred.

As you step into the Hall of Ascendancy, the irony of its name strikes you almost as sharply as the chilling ambiance. The term, which typically conjures visions of rising to heights of glory and light, is subverted here into something far more sinister. Instead of ascending into brilliance, the hall seems to draw all who enter into a descent into shadow.

Above, towering Gothic arches stretch upward, but rather than reaching a grand zenith, they dissolve into darkness, the ceiling lost to an enveloping blackness. This architectural feat creates the disquieting illusion of an upside-down ascendancy, as if the very structure aims to pull the heavens down into the abyss.

The hall is dimly lit by countless candles clustered along its length, their glow insufficient to penetrate the upper shadows but adequate to cast a ghostly light on the faces of the masked guests. Each mask, elaborately crafted and grotesquely beautiful, appears almost spectral under the flickering candlelight. The play of light and shadows however twisted their features, turning what might be considered majestic into something distinctly macabre.

In this realm of reversed ascendancy, the guests move like phantoms against a backdrop of dark stone and darker shadows, their whispers echoing off the walls as if sharing secrets with the ancient stones. Their movement—gliding soundlessly in pairs, every step perfectly in rhythm with the eerie strains of the orchestra—makes your skin crawl.

They were too graceful. Too perfect.

You tried not to stare, reminding yourself that some among them might be bloodsuckers. But that was precisely the most unsettling part—you wouldn't know who. Everyone was perfectly hidden behind elaborate gowns and crisp suits, their expressions meticulously concealed behind eerie Venetian masks.

“y/n!”

The voice was familiar, bright—an anchor in this dizzying sea of masked spectre.

Sunoo.

You spotted him, his pale skin glimmering under the faint light, the grin behind his own half mask unmistakeable. He waved enthusiastically, threading through the crowd as though they weren’t even there. You lifted your hand, returning his wave, moving instinctively toward him.

But then—

The music swelled, deep and rhythmic, and soon the crowd, too, shifted. Pairs began to form, bodies turning in fluid precision. The crowd twisted and folded in on itself, the movements impossibly synchronized, cutting through the hall like tides.

Sunoo’s figure vanished, swallowed by the waves dancing guests.

“Sunoo?” you called, your voice dissolving into the music. You pushed forward but the crowd grew tighter. Dark gowns spun like shadows, masks turned toward you in quick, darting glances—just enough to unnerve you, just enough to make you feel watched. You tried to move away but like tidal wave, the dancing guests surged and swirled around you as if all conspiring to keep you tethered where you were.

Then—

A hand seized yours.

Before you could react, you were pulled sharply into the crowd, your body spun until you collided with someone—chest to chest. An arm snaked around your waist, strong and unyielding, holding you in place as the waltz swept you into its current.

“I’m sorry, I’m not—”

The words died in your throat. You recognized this grip—talon-like and suffocating, an iron cage clasping your ribs. The broad shoulders pressing against you and the sharp jawline cutting like stone beneath the Golden of the Colombina Venetian mask, were unmistakably familiar. And those eyes—the penetrating, intense gaze that seemed to probe the depths of your mind—left no room for doubt.

Park Sunghoon.

Of course, it was him. It was always him, you thought bitterly.

“Of course, it’s you,” you muttered, vivid memories starting to surge to the forefront of your mind—that of eight years ago during the Winter Ball when his grip had been just as unforgiving, his presence just as inescapable, and the proximity just as suffocating. It felt as though no time had passed at all.

His head tilted menacingly, the golden venetian mask he wore catching the flicker of candlelight. “—likewise, it is always you,” he murmured, his voice was quiet but edged with something darker.

The room, the people, the music—all of it faded to nothing. It was just you and him again, caught in a silent war that neither of you dared name. The waltz pulled you into its current, and Sunghoon led you with an ease that only reminded you how effortlessly he always took control.

“I told you to stay away,” he said softly, though there was no kindness in the words—just quiet steel.

“And I told you I don’t take orders,” you shot back, forcing steadiness into your voice despite the way his presence pressed against you, suffocating and all-encompassing. His proximity, the unyielding strength in his hold, stirred memories you had buried too deep to ignore. “Besides, I didn’t come here uninvited.”

“You let yourself be invited into a lion’s den,” he scoffed, the sound barely audible above the swell of violins.

“I trumped the rat maze you set for me eight years ago, didn’t I?" you retorted, "clearly, survival is my forte.”

His fingers curled tighter around your waist, vice-like against your ribs. Not enough to hurt, but enough to remind you who led this dance. “Take your penchant for mind games elsewhere, y/n. This isn’t a playpen—it’s a gladiator ring.”

“You should be the one taking your mind games elsewhere, Sunghoon. I know your game, so if you’re thinking of orchestrating everything around me just to play the savior—don’t bother,” you hissed. “Just come as you are. If you’re here for vengeance, then do it. Stop being cold one second and trying to save me the next.”

The music swelled again, a crescendo that made the floor seem to tremble beneath your feet. His fingers dug into your side—almost punishing—as though your words struck deeper than you expect it would.

As the piece surged toward its thunderous finale, Sunghoon’s hand shifted, guiding you into a sharp turn. But as you spun, the momentum of the movement carried you further than intended—too far for his grasp to reclaim you. The music fractured into a new, chaotic melody, the dancers around you shifting like tides in time with the change.

Before you could regain your balance, another hand caught yours, pulling you into the rhythm of the new dance. The hold was gentler this time, firm but reassuring, a stark contrast to the suffocating grip you’d just escaped. The voice that followed cut through the stifling tension, light and teasing.

“Sorry about that. You looked like you needed rescuing.”

You turned sharply, blinking up at the man who’d swept you to the edge of the room. He was slightly shorter than Sunghoon, his build lean and lithe. Where Sunghoon exuded impenetrable strength, this man moved with a kind of devil-may-care ease as though he thrived on chaos without ever letting it touch him. His blonde hair fell in deliberate disarray, a tousled mess that only added to the impression that nothing in this world—rules, expectations, or danger—could weigh him down.

His half-jester mask concealed the upper half of his face, but the smirk pulling at his lips was impossible to miss. It was wide, sharp, and full of boyish charm, a grin that danced the line between amusement and provocation. The silver lip ring he wore at the centre of his lower lip only enhanced the air of mischief he seemed to carry effortlessly.

“Jaeyun,” he introduced, his voice smooth but carrying the kind of playfulness that made you wonder if he ever took anything seriously. Spinning you out of the crowd with a dancer’s grace, he watched you closely, the weight of his gaze hidden beneath the mask, yet still palpable. His grip was steady but not imposing, the veins on his hands prominent, betraying a strength that seemed out of place with his disarming demeanor.

“I haven’t seen you around before,” he continued smoothly, his tone casual but edged with intrigue. There was something both playful and calculated about him, as though every word he spoke carried a double meaning.

“That is probably because I’m not part of the 1%. Just someone invited out of favour,” you shrugged and eased up, thinking how anywhere was better than being near Sunghoon and right now in this man’s arms, you felt oddly at ease.

His golden brow arched beneath the mask, a playful smirk curling his lips. “No one here gets invited without a reason, my lady. You’re meant to be here.”

“Trust me,” you said drily, “I’m no one important, so you’ve picked the wrong girl to waltz with. I can’t help you worm your way to any position.”

He chuckled, “well, that makes two of us. I’m no one important either. Just a nepo baby bouncing between industries like a particularly well-dressed pinball.”

The laugh that escaped you was unguarded, the first real one that night.

“I don’t think I can last much longer tonight,” you admitted quietly, glancing back at the sea of masked faces and swirling gowns. “Do you think there’s a way to sneak out of here?”

He chuckled, as though he’d been waiting for you to ask. “Skipping the speech? Bold choice. I approve.” He leaned closer, his voice dropping conspiratorially. “Don’t let a maid or butler catch you—they’ll just escort you back in. But I know a way. I’ll help you escape to your chamber.”

You hesitated, glancing back at the dark swirl of dancers in the center of the room. Somewhere in that tide of velvet and masks, you knew Sunghoon was watching.

“Lead the way,” you muttered, straightening your mask and steeling yourself against the lingering shiver of Sunghoon’s presence.

Jaeyun offered his arm with a wink. “Smart choice. Follow me.”

He led you deftly through the swirling mass of dancers, weaving in and out of the crowd as though he’d done this a hundred times before. You kept your hand in his, letting him pull you along, grateful for the escape—even if part of you couldn’t shake the feeling that this castle had eyes everywhere.

The towering figures in elaborate cloaks and Venetian masks seemed to loom larger as you passed, their heads turning ever so slightly in your direction, as though they knew your intentions. You forced yourself to look ahead, Jaeyun’s golden hair your only anchor amidst the sea of elaborate gowns and flickering shadows.

At last, he pushed open a discreet side door, ushering you into a narrow, dimly lit corridor. The muffled strains of the orchestra faded slightly, replaced by the faint hum of silence. The walls here were stone, the flickering sconces spaced farther apart, casting deep pools of darkness.

“There,” he said, finally letting go of your hand and gesturing down the hall. “This leads back toward the guest wings. No one’ll bother you this way—no guards, no butlers.”

You glanced at him warily, still catching your breath. “And how do you know all of this?”

Jaeyun flashed that mischievous smile, but there was something in his eyes—a flicker of something too knowing. “I have my ways,” he teased, tapping the edge of his mask. “I’m a bit of an expert at slipping out unnoticed.”

You folded your arms, trying to read him. He didn’t feel like the others—those unsettling, predatory guests whose masked faces all seemed to tilt as you passed. Compared to Sunghoon’s towering, fortress-like presence, Jaeyun was the opposite—light, sharp, and unpredictable. If Sunghoon was a storm, heavy with inevitability, Jaeyun was the wind, playful and untethered, ready to shift direction at any moment.

“You’re not leading me into another lion’s den, are you?” you asked flatly. Trust is afterall not something you hand out very freely.

He chuckled. “No lions here. Maybe a few rats, but you’ll be fine.” He tilted his head toward the hallway. “Go on, I’ll keep watch to make sure no one follows.”

You hesitated, searching his expression one last time, but his grin was steady, his posture relaxed—like someone who lived for mischief but wasn’t cruel enough to throw you into a pit for fun.

“Fine,” you muttered. “Thanks, I guess.”

“Don’t mention it,” he said, stepping back into the shadows near the door. “And don’t get lost—these halls have a habit of playing tricks. It's not called the Corridors of Treachery for nothing.”

You shot him one last glance before hurrying down the corridor, the faint sound of your heels against the stone floor echoing back at you. The hallway stretched longer than you’d expected, the shadows creeping in at the edges of your vision, distorting the path. Doors lined the hallway on either side, their carved handles gleaming faintly in the dim light, inviting and forbidding all at once.

You reached for the nearest door, desperate to find a way back to your chambers. It creaked open slowly, revealing a narrow staircase spiraling downward into darkness. Nope, you thought as you closed the door and opened the one next to it.

This time, the door opened to a vast, empty dining hall, its long table draped in crimson cloth, the chairs eerily vacant as though waiting for unseen occupants. The chandeliers above swayed slightly, though no wind stirred the air. You slammed the door shut, your breath catching, the eerie stillness pressing against your chest.

Your heart raced as you tried another handle, and another, each opening up to various types of rooms but not to the North Wing. You reached the end of the corridor, desperation creeping into your movements. But when the door opened, your stomach twisted. The staircase from the first door now stood before you again.

No, that's not possible. You turned sharply, your gaze darting down the corridor. You were certain the staircase had been at the other end of the hall, far from here. Yet here it was, unmoved, defying logic.

Shaking your head, you pushed the thought aside and moved to the next door, your steps hurried. The knob twisted reluctantly under your grip, creaking open to reveal something entirely different. The air shifted, heavier now, the dim light casting elongated shadows across the floor. The scent of dust and aged paper filled your senses.

“A library?” you murmured, the word barely audible as your curiosity overrode caution. Towering bookshelves rose around you, their rows packed with cracked leather bindings. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the faint creak of wood beneath your steps. You ventured further in, but a sudden sound stopped you cold—footsteps. Voices.

“I swear I saw someone—” a maid’s voice, soft but tense, carried through the corridor outside.

“No one would be stupid enough to use this corridor,” an older, irritated butler replied. “Still, we’ll get in trouble if someone’s unaccounted for in the Hall. You check the doors on that side. I’ll take this one—”

Panic shot through you as Jaeyun’s warning echoed in your mind: Don’t let them catch you. They’ll just drag you back. Before you could think, you had already shut the door behind you, bolting it as quietly as possible. The prospect of locking yourself in an unfamiliar room was unsettling, but the thought of being dragged back into the Hall was enough to root you in place.

Stepping back into the dim room, your fingers brushed against a nearby oil lamp. You hesitated only for a moment before taking it, the soft glow pushing back the shadows around you. A new thought flickered in your mind: perhaps this was exactly where you needed to be because if there were any place to find answers, it would be in a library.

And so you turned to the towering shelves, your eyes already skimming the spines of the books. Most of the books were likely ancient with their cracked spines etched with unfamiliar symbols and faded runes.

And then, something caught your attention.

There, in the middle of the farthest shelf, tucked between larger tomes, was a book entitled The Annals of Kings. Its spine was cracked with age, the title barely visible in faded gold lettering. Perhaps this can tell me more about the owner of the castle, you thought, carefully taking it out and flipping open the cover. At first, the book seemed to be a meticulously detailed chronicle of royal bloodlines—family trees stretching back to eras long forgotten, with unfamiliar crests and names etched in bold, precise script. "Weird," you find yourself whispering as one particular page had burnt marks precisely over some members of the House. As you flipped further, your breath hitch when your eyes read the word 'Purebloods' in the 3rd chapter. You remembered Sunghoon had once talked about a 'Pureblood' to refer to one of them.

You read on, setting the book down on a nearby table:

In the earliest epochs of human civilization, the Purebloods did not linger in the shadows—they ruled openly, their supernatural gifts woven seamlessly into the fabric of leadership. To mortals, their superhuman abilities appeared as divine providence, unparalleled intelligence, or sheer physical prowess. Kingdoms flourished under their command, their strength ensuring stability and their cunning guiding progress. Mortals, though inferior, were the lifeblood of the empire in every sense—figuratively and literally. They served not only as a source of sustenance but as indispensable tools in the expansion and maintenance of vampiric rule. By draining mortals to the brink of death, Purebloods could create Strays: undead beings stripped of humanity and intelligence, reduced to feral creatures driven solely by hunger and instinct. These mindless abominations, incapable of fear or betrayal, became perfect instruments of war. By contrast, Spoilbloods were created with precision and strategic intent. Only mortals of exceptional strength, intellect, or loyalty were chosen—sifted from the mortals and meticulously groomed. The transformation involved an agonizing process: near-fatal blood loss followed by the infusion of Pureblood blood. The result was a new kin—impure yet indispensable. Retaining their human intellect and experience, Spoilbloods became tethered to their Pureblood creators through an unbreakable bond. They served as advisors, enforcers, and agents, wielding their knowledge of mortal affairs to further their master’s dominion. Their dual nature made them invaluable, bridging the gap between humanity and the Purebloods’ reign, and solidifying the Purebloods’ control over mortal realms. But as the empire grew, so too did ambition and recklessness. The turning of mortals, once deliberate and controlled, became indiscriminate. Strays, bred in overwhelming numbers, escaped their creators’ control, wreaking havoc even within vampiric strongholds. Spoilbloods, no longer chosen for their value, were created in excess, leading to insubordination and infighting. The tools that had forged an empire became the seeds of its collapse. Strays, unleashed without thought, ravaged lands indiscriminately. Spoilbloods, embittered by their tainted status, turned on their masters, allying with mortals or seeking power for themselves. And mortals, emboldened by the chaos, rose in rebellion, wielding fire and steel against their oppressors. What followed was the Great Sundering—a cataclysmic collapse of the Shadow Reign. Purebloods who had once ruled openly were forced to retreat into obscurity, their ambitions tempered by the need for secrecy. Now, the Purebloods operate from the shadows, manipulating mortals and maintaining their dominion through whispers and unseen influence. Yet the lessons of the past remain unlearned, for ambition stirs once more. The tools that once brought empires to ruin may yet be repurposed in the pursuit of a legacy reborn—

The sound of a doorknob turning shattered your concentration, your heart nearly leaping out of your ribcage. “See? It’s locked—” the butler’s voice, the one from earlier, filtered through, sharp with irritation. “No one is here. Let’s go now before we’re the ones getting searched for.”

You exhaled shakily, bracing yourself against the table as your pulse thundered in your ears. I need to go. Quickly, you shut the book, its weight feeling heavier now, as though it carried more than history—something darker, something alive. You wanted to read more, to uncover the truths buried in its pages, but lingering wasn’t an option. And carrying a book about vampire history through this castle felt like begging for trouble.

Your gaze fell to your gown, and in a moment of desperation, you slipped the book into the narrow space between your corset and dress. The edges dug into your ribs uncomfortably, but it would have to do.

Unbolting the door with painstaking caution, you cracked it open just enough to peek into the hallway. Clear. You slipped into the corridor, moving as quickly as you dared. One door, then another—each led to rooms you’d already seen, as though the corridor itself conspired against you, bending and twisting your sense of direction.

"I swear if—" you groaned in frustation as you twisted the doorknob next to the lopsided sconce, half expecting it to open into a room you had seen but this time, as if the corridor has had enough of torturing you, it opened to the North Wing, the one you had passed through to get to your room.

Relief surged through you, propelling your legs forward. You darted down the hall, your steps unsteady, nearly stumbling as your door came into view. Throwing yourself inside, you slammed it shut, bolting it with trembling hands. Leaning heavily against the door, your chest heaved, each gasp scraping against the pressure of the book pressed tightly to your ribs, making every breath feel like a chore.

With a frustrated sigh, you reached for the zipper of your gown, tugging it down just enough to free the stolen volume. The moment felt almost triumphant—until—

“Fuck—what the heck, Park Sunghoon?!”

Your own voice rang out, sharp and panicked, as you froze.

There he was. Sitting on your bed like he owned it, leaning back lazily with his arms sprawled behind him. His hands pressed into the mattress to prop himself up, his posture infuriatingly casual, like he’d been waiting for hours. One leg stretched out, the other bent loosely at the knee.

His golden Venetian mask sat perched atop his head, as though he’d lazily shoved it out of the way. The ornate design, with its sharp angles and eerie elegance, looked less menacing up there—but you’d almost prefer it over his uncovered face. At least the mask didn’t smirk. That infuriating curve of his lips, brimming with amusement, made you want to throw something at him. But more annoying than that was his gaze: how it lingered—too long—on your corseted torso where the gown had slipped slightly from your shoulders. Your cheeks flamed, flustered, as you hastily tugged your dress back together, zipping it up in one swift, jerky motion. You clutched the fabric tightly over your chest, as though it could shield you from the weight of his gaze.

“Calm down,” he drawled, his voice low and almost teasing. “You had a corset on. It’s not like you were only in your br—”

“Shut it," you snapped.

Sunghoon’s smirk deepened, but the amusement in his expression gave way to something sharper as his eyes dropped to the book still clutched in your hands.

“Instead of worrying about your dignity,” he said, his tone suddenly edged with steel, “you might want to worry about the implication of stealing that.”

“It’s just a book,” you muttered, though you knew better.

He tilted his head, the casual air around him darkening. “Just a book? That’s a very important book, and people would kill to lay their hands on it—humans especially. And if the nonhumans find out that a human had stolen it…” He let the words hang, the unspoken consequence thickening the silence.

You swallowed hard, suspicion flaring despite his warning. “perhaps you’re just saying that to stop me from learning what’s inside.”

He rose fluidly from the bed, moving closer with that same languid grace that unnerved you, “Actually, you know what..." his voice was calm, almost mocking, as he advanced toward you. He didn’t stop, his deliberate steps forcing you to retreat until your back hit the door, "Go ahead. Read it from cover to cover. Then maybe you’ll finally understand how foolish you had been to throw yourself here—and perhaps…”

His tone sharpened as his hand slid up the curve of your waist, his fingers curling against your ribs with a vicelike grip. The pressure pinned you harder against the door, leaving no room to escape. You had almost forgotten how paralyzing his beauty could be up close—how each sharp line of his face seemed crafted with unnerving precision. But it wasn’t just his features; it was his gaze.

There, in the scant inches between you, his eyes burned with an intensity that made you hold your breath. It wasn’t the probing look you’d grown used to, the one that seemed to sift through your thoughts for answers. No, this was something else. This gaze demanded. It didn’t seek to uncover the depth of your mind; it sought to make you reveal it willingly.

And then, fleeting but unmistakable, you caught the way his eyes flitted downward—down to your lips—before returning to your eyes. It was brief, the kind of glance you could almost convince yourself didn’t happen, but the air between you felt thicker for it, alive with unspoken tension.

“—learn a thing or two about not trusting anyone here,” he finished, his voice like the brush of a blade against your throat.

The door clicked open softly behind you, and his hand released you just as suddenly as it had held you. Before you could process the shift, something cold pressed into your palm. It was your dagger—the one he impaled on your stacks of files with just weeks ago.

“I’d keep that knife on me at all times if I were you,” he murmured, breath ghosting your ear. “And maybe sleep with one eye open. You’ve made quite the impression tonight—and I’m not just talking about me.”

It was only then did you notice the small charm dangling from the hilt of your dagger—a ruby crest, unmistakably his. It swayed gently, a silent signature that felt more mocking than reassuring. The crimson gem glinted wickedly in the dim light, its gleam as taunting and inescapable as the smirk that now lingered, unbidden, in your thoughts.

— viii

The second night reconvened in an entirely different space. Unlike the grandeur of the Hall of Ascendancy, tonight’s venue stretched seamlessly into a vast conservatory. But this wasn’t just any conservatory—it was a towering mansion of glass and steel, an architectural marvel that seemed almost alive under the full moon, which hung high above.

The guests were already assembled by the time you arrived, their attire more elaborate than ever. Velvet gowns flowed like liquid shadows, and cloaks billowed with every calculated step. Masks adorned with jewels, feathers, and gilded filigree glinted in the broken light, their ornate designs blurring the line between beauty and monstrosity.

But tonight, something felt different.

Their movements, slower and more deliberate, carried an unsettling weight. The laughter that echoed through the towering space was sharper, colder, its brittle edges slicing through the charged silence.

They no longer looked like nobles. Their presence felt predatory, their glances sharp and calculating, their steps echoing with a primal rhythm. After what you’d learned yesterday, you no longer saw them as elegant courtiers.

Your burgundy gown did little to comfort you, its sheer cape trailing behind as you moved through the crowd. The beads shimmered under the moonlight like droplets of blood, an omen you couldn’t ignore. The dagger in your garter weighed heavier than ever, its promise sharp against your thigh.

At the far end of the room, the soft murmur of voices fell silent when the host stepped onto a raised platform, his usual playful energy somewhat tempered by the atmosphere. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” the host spread his arms wide in a gesture of welcome. “Or perhaps I should say hunters and prey.”

A ripple of laughter moved through the crowd, low and knowing.

“As per tradition, tonight we hunt. We test not just our skill but our resolve,” he continued, his tone light but his words laden with a weight that made your stomach churn. “Our prey tonight will be scattered across the grounds. Cunning and elusive, just as they always have been. You know the rules. The one with the highest count by sunrise… wins.”

The crowd stirred, their masked faces tilting in eerie anticipation.

“Hunting?” you whispered, dread curling through you – dread that no one seems to share. “Of course,” you thought to yourself, “it’s normal rich people bloodsport. Deplorable.”

“Word of advice?”

You jumped, surprised, spinning to face the owner of the voice. It was Jaeyun. Despite wearing an ominous half Plague Doctor mask this time, you could easily recognise those piercing in the middle of his lips and the playful voice. He leaned closer, whispering,  “—don’t think of just sitting around and laying low.”

Your brows furrowed. “Excuse me?”

“This is more than just your usual ‘rich-people bloodsport’. The real prize lay beyond rabbits, bison, herrons-” Jaeyun said smoothly, a casual drawl lacing his words.

You shook your head, disbelieving, “forget it. I’m not interested in getting first place in killing innocent animals.”

“Trust me, it’s not just about coming up at the top,” he muttered ominously before his lips widened into the usual playful grin. “That aside…” he beckoned subtly, nudging you to glance toward the far end of the room, “I can never tell if you two are lovers or enemies, but there’s something there. He’s been staring for ages.”

You turned, following his line of sight, and felt your pulse stutter.

Sunghoon.

He stood at the far side of the glasshouse, his tall figure cutting through the crowd like a shadow. But even the mask couldn’t conceal the intensity of his stare—sharp, piercing, locked directly onto you.

You tore your gaze away, the weight of it lingering far too heavily on your shoulders.

“Careful,” Jaeyun murmured, his grin turning faintly wolfish, “you might end up being the one he hunts tonight instead of a bison.”

Before you could respond, a bell rang and darkness consumed the glasshouse. “You have until sun down,” you hear the host announce, amusement evident, “eternal glory awaits those who makes it. Happy hunting.”

There was something ominous about the way he emphasizes the words but before you could process them further, you feel a hand on yours, soft but insistent. “Madam, it’s me,” you recognised the voice, it was one of those maids who served you breakfast this morning, “please follow me. I am to take you to your respective position.”

Before you could resist, she slipped a blindfold over your eyes and led you outside. The cold night air bit at your skin, your pulse quickening with every step. When the blindfold came off, you were near a shed, and  a shotgun was thrusted into your hands.

The bell tolled again, its echo swallowed by the night, and almost immediately, gunshots rang out, shattering the stillness. Manic laughter followed—sharp, jagged, and unhinged, like a predator’s glee.

You’d always been competitive, but killing innocent animals had never been your sport. As the Maid stepped away, a thought struck you. Without hesitation, you grabbed her arm, realizing you could easily disguise yourself—especially since the mask you wore among the guests would conceal your identity.

“Trade clothes with me," you said urgently, "please. It's a bit too heavy for hunting, don't you think?" you lied.

The maid looked hesitant at first but eventually agreed after you promised her some reward as long as she finds you afterward. You two ducked inside the shed and traded clothes.

The maid's uniform was simple and nondescript, just a black velvet dress that hugged the figure modestly with its high neckline framed by delicate white lace and long sleeves that gathered slightly at the shoulders with a matching lace at the cuffs. It was the perfect attire for hiding in plain sight. Or running, should you need to.

You muttered a thanks as she took her leave but just as you were buttoning yours, you heard noises—footsteps, closer now, and the sharp bark of a laugh that set your teeth on edge. You froze, your breath caught in your throat, as you crept toward the narrow window.

Outside, in the clearing beyond, stood the tall man whose obnoxious laugh had always filled the hall whenever you guys gather. His mask hung crooked on his face, barely concealing the manic grin beneath it. He cocked his rifle toward the shadows, his movements deliberate, his laughter trailing like the howl of a wolf on the hunt. Then he fired indiscriminately.

A rabbit fell first, its small body tumbling lifelessly into the frost-tipped grass. Then an eagle, a deer—anything that dared move. He chuckled to himself, carelessly slinging the dead rabbit over his shoulder as another figure emerged from the shadows.

“You’re hoarding everything,” the newcomer whined. He wore a double-faced mask—one side smiling, the other weeping—and his movements were unnervingly fluid, almost inhuman. “You’ve really got to leave some for us poor uncivilized folk. It’s not like we can afford to go hunting every week.”

The tall man turned with an arrogant shrug, his grin widening. “Well, some people are just meant to stay at the top.”

Before he could say more, the masked figure vanished—gone, like smoke dissipating into the night.

And then he was behind him.

You barely suppressed a gasp as the double-faced figure reappeared, silent and sudden, sinking his fangs deep into the tall man’s neck. There wasn’t even time for a scream—just a gurgled choke as the man’s body went limp, his rifle falling uselessly to the ground. The tall man’s once boisterous laughter was silenced forever.

You staggered back, horror twisting in your gut, bile rising in your throat. The realization hit you like ice—this wasn’t just a hunt. It was a literal bloodsport and you were part of the pecking order, a prey for a specific kind of predator.

You had to flee now.

Your pulse thundered in your ears as you darted out of the shed, the shadows of the garden swallowing you whole. Thorny rose bushes clawed at your skirt as you weaved through the rows, their petals dark as ink beneath the full moon. Then you heard it—a low, muffled protest. A man’s voice, weak and disbelieving. You froze, crouching behind the tangled branches, peering through a narrow clearing.

“You bastard—” the man on the ground croaked as he laid in a pool of his own blood. The bile rose in your throat as his voice cracked with desperate rage, “—they were right, you shouldn’t have lived.”

Another man suddenly stepped into the frame with unhurried ease, exuding an air of cold authority. Then with utter ruthlessness, brought his shoe down onto the bleeding man's face, tilting it toward your direction. The lifeless eyes locked onto yours, wide and unblinking, fangs bared in a final expression of fury—frozen in death.

“Why do you have to bleed that much?” the man above him muttered, his tone detached and annoyed. “It’s getting all over my trousers.”

Your breath caught. You knew that voice. That smooth, unbothered and utterly unforgiving voice.

Park Sunghoon.

He stood over the lifeless body, unnervingly casual, shaking his shoes to remove the last traces of blood, as though he’d swatted a fly instead of taken a life.

Your chest tightened. You should have known—he was a vampire after all which means he must have also been taking part in this brutal, predatory game. But seeing it like this, the casual ruthlessness in his every move, made the realization cut deeper than you’d ever prepared for.

Then, his head snapped up.

Fuck, you thought as you drew back instinctively, he knew.

You stifled a gasp, turning on your heel to bolt the other way—only to collide with something solid. Someone.

Sunghoon.

Before you could react, his fingers wrapped around your wrist, effortlessly stilling the blade you had instinctively raised between you. But it wasn’t the pain in your wrist that made your blood ran cold. It was the expression in his eyes. Cold. Calculating. It occured to you that if he could kill his own kind so easily and so remorselessly – killing you would be child’s play especially given the bad blood between you too.

“I should have known—" you said scornfully. Each word spitted out like venom, “you’re just like them.”

“I never said I was any different,” he replied smoothly, his brows arching with disinterested amusement, as though your accusation was a mild inconvenience. “Your words imply you thought otherwise though. I’m touched. But game’s over y/n, let’s stop beating around the—”

Before he could continue, the sharp twang of a bowstring shattered the silence. An arrow sliced through the air, embedding itself in the stone fountain between you with a thud.

“Not the most gentlemanly, is it?”

Both of you turned sharply.

Jaeyun stood at the edge of the clearing, a bow in hand, a smirk painted across his face. His plague doctor mask gleam rather luminously in the moonlight. “Attacking a lone woman? That’s very low of you, Lord Park. But then again, the bar has been in hell when it comes to you—"

Another arrow zipped through the air but Sunghoon caught it mid-flight, snapping the shaft with an almost irritated flick of his wrist. Before he could react further, however, Jaeyun fired again. This time, the arrow struck true, embedding itself into Sunghoon’s upper arm. While pulling his bowstring taut for another hit, Jaeyun tilted his head sharply in your direction, the motion clear and deliberate: run.

You didn’t need to be told twice. You bolted toward the castle, your dagger still clutched tightly in your hand. Behind you, the sound of movement—fast, deliberate, and unnervingly close—cut through the night, followed by the sharp crack of something violent. But you didn’t look back.

You tore through the rose garden, through the labyrinth of shadowed corridors, until the heavy castle doors loomed before you. They slammed shut behind you with a deafening boom, the echo resounding like a gunshot in the empty hall. Only then did you pause, chest heaving, your pulse a frantic rhythm beneath your skin.

As you force yourself to make your way through the series of hallways, dread rose with every step when you realised you had stepped into the Corridors of Treachery—its narrow, winding passages and endless series of identical doors looming ominously before you.

“Fuck,” you muttered defeatedly as you tried door after door, only to find yourself circling back to the same rooms you had already seen. It was as though the castle itself conspired to trap you within its labyrinth.

At this rate, he’d find you.

Then finally, one door opened to a different room. Relief surged through you—until you saw where you’d ended up. The library.

You groaned in frustration, about to turn back but then realised that perhaps this was exactly where you should be. You quickly shut the door behind you as you recalled the host mentioning how tonight's event was tradition. If it was tradition, then there had to be something written about it.

Grabbing the nearest lamp, you scanned the shelves for books that details about traditions or perhaps rituals, reading the titles aloud in a voice that is barely above a whisper: "The Blood Wars. The Vitae Manifesto. Of Reigns and Conquests. The Obsidian Testament. The Silent Prophecy—"

You froze. Backtracking, your fingers traced over one title. The Obsidian Testament.

“This—” you murmured, cutting yourself off as you freed the book from its resting place. You remembered a reference to this particular book yesterday, though the page had been burnt—intentionally, it seemed, as though someone had tried to erase all traces of its existence.

The words from The Annals of Kings surfaced in your mind like a whisper from the grave:  “The Obsidian Testament is no book—it is a hunger that feeds. Blood begets blood, and its truths are carved in the ruin of those who sought them.”

The Obsidian Testament felt heavier than you expected, its weight solid and unyielding, as if the book itself resisted being opened. The leather cover, cracked and brittle with age, was uneven beneath your fingertips. At first, you thought it was some widespread leather cracks, but no—there was something more deliberate about it. The surface felt etched, uneven ridges forming patterns you couldn’t quite discern under the flickering lamplight. But there was no time to linger.

Hurriedly, you flipped through the first few pages, your breath quickening as you searched for any explanation for the night’s macabre events but the first few pages only offered you macabre drawings of human, sigils and strange incantations.

There must be something, you thought desperately as you turned the brittle pages. The parchment crackled under your touch, the oppressive silence pressing in around you. Then, finally, something legible:

The Pureblood lineage, though unparalleled in strength, is not immune to the decay that plagues all empires. Bloodlines can weaken. Houses can fall.  To maintain the purity and continuation of our kind, vigilance is required. The survival of the Pureblood lineage is not merely a matter of existence but the continuation of perfection itself. The weak may breed indiscriminately, but the strong—the Purebloods—must refine and preserve their population with precision.

“Sounds like something straight out of a supremacist manifesto,” you murmured, but your words faltered as your eyes fell to the next few lines:

—what remains hidden knowledge, however, is that the act of turning a mortal into a Spoilblood, while widely practiced, harbors a purpose far greater than is openly acknowledged. The Reaping—is a truth reserved for the most exalted among us, a secret rite that transcends the mundane utility of turning. It is the keystone of power, a ritual that restores the Pureblood’s supremacy, binding mortality to perfection beneath the crimson glow of a blood moon. If, during a blood moon, a pureblood binds their hundredth Spoilblood, renewal grants power anew—

Just then you thought you saw movements outside the window. You peered through an opening, seeing three figures striding toward the castle, weapons glinting in the moonlight—a bat, a sickle, a scythe. The air grew heavy with the unmistakable promise of bloodshed.

You shoved the book back onto the shelf, your pulse hammering against your chest. Keeping to the shadows, you slipped back into the hall, trying every door possible. At last, one opened to a new hallway, but as you moved to leave, muffled cries stopped you.

“I’ll give you my wealth—my land—please!” The man’s voice was frantic, his words tumbling over each other in desperation. Looming over him were the 3 masked men from earlier, their choice of masks as macabre as the weapon in their hands

“Well, look who it is—the Actor,” the one in the Bauta Venetian mask said ,as he pushed the pleading man’s mask aside to reveal his face.

“Too bad,” sneered the one with the Baphomet mask, squatting beside him. “We’ve got too many pretty faces already. Shall we feast instead?”

“Sounds good to me. All that caviar and wine probably makes his blood taste divine.” The one in the clown mask pressed the edge of his scythe against the man’s neck. “Besides, he’s not good enough for the Reaping—not enough wealth and influence.”

The man’s protests fell on deaf ears, dissolving into guttural choking as the three figures descended upon him in a brutal, efficient frenzy. You turned away, bile rising in your throat, the wet, tearing sounds behind you digging into your mind like jagged glass.

Desperate to focus elsewhere, your gaze landed on the nearest window. The silver glow of the full moon spilled through it, freezing you in place as fragments of memory jolted through your mind, unbidden and sharp. Words from The Obsidian Testament rang like a broken radio—disjointed, warped. "When the full moon wanes, the blood moon will rise, and with it, chaos shall reign." The line clung to your thoughts, twisting with Anton’s offhand remark just a week ago: "There’s a Blood Moon this month," he’d said casually, as if it were a trivial astrological event.

The realisation struck you like a lightning bolt. Tonight's bloodsport wasn't simply for entertainment nor indulgence. It was preparation—an offering—for something far more insidious.

This wasn't just a game.

This was the prelude to a Reaping.

You needed to move—fast. The sickening sounds of their feeding still echoed down the corridor, making your skin crawl. Keeping low, you slipped past the door left ajar earlier and darted into the dimly lit hall, your footsteps light and deliberate. Ahead, a smaller door leading to the servants’ passage came into view.

You shoved it open, slipping through and climbing the spiral staircase two steps at a time, your breath quick and shallow. Then you heard it—the clatter of heavy footsteps below, sharp and deliberate. Looking down, your eyes locked with one of the men from earlier—the one in the Bauta mask. He stood at the base of the stairs, his head tilted, his expression unreadable beneath the eerie mask.

“Thought I sensed a weasel snooping around,” he called mockingly, his tone dripping with sinister amusement. “You’re mine, then.”

Panic surged. Fuck. You slammed the door shut behind you, twisting the lock just as he reached it, sprinting into what looked like a gallery of a statues. But everywhere you looked there were no exit in sight, just statues looming in eerie stillness, their solemn faces twisted as though mourning what was to come.

Behind you, the door crashed open, and his relentless footsteps followed, their sound reverberating through the empty space.

Desperation clawed at you as you slid behind one of the statues, your chest heaving, eyes darting around for an exit. Still none in sight. Your grip tightened around the dagger in your hand, its cool weight grounding you. The heart, you thought as your mind raced back to everything you’d read about vampires yesterday. That was their weak point.

But as your gaze flicked between the trembling dagger in your hand and the figure still prowling the gallery, searching for you, doubt seeped in like an unwelcome shadow. His towering build, his inhuman speed, his strength—there was no way you could overpower him.

Your eyes darted back to the blade, the calculated risk forming in your mind the only option left. Steeling yourself, you drew the blade across your thigh, wincing as the sharp pain flared and blood welled up in angry streaks which summoned him almost immediately. “Gotcha—" he sneered, as he closed the distance in one smooth unsettling motion, his grin stretching unnaturally wide, fangs bared in predatory triumph.

You let him topple you, his weight crashing down with bruising force. As you’d anticipated, his head dipped straight to your thigh, drawn to the fresh cut rather than your neck. His grip tightened, his breath sharp and ragged against your skin.

It was the opening you needed.

With a surge of determination, you drove the blade into his chest from his back, straight into his heart. A guttural hiss tore from his throat as his body convulsed, staggering back violently. Blood soaked his shirt as he clawed at the weapon embedded in his chest. He ripped it free with a snarl, flinging it aside like it was nothing more than an inconvenience. “You filthy wench,” he spat venomously, trying in vain to stem the flow of blood.

You didn’t wait. Scrambling to your feet, you grabbed the dagger he had thrown near you and darted back out to where you came from, sprinting into the corridor at the other end instead which led to a hallway lined with mirrors, their warped reflections casting eerie, shifting shadows. You sprinted aimlessly, your only thought to escape. But just as the end of the hallway came into view, something heavy wrenched you backward with inhuman strength. A hand clamped over your mouth, muffling your terrified cry. It can’t end like this, your mind screamed, desperation clawing at the edges of your sanity but no matter how hard you thrashed, it was futile and the next thing you knew, you were hurled into a small, confined space with the sound of the door clicking shut behind you sealing your fate.

Your back slammed against what felt like a cupboard, the hard surface digging painfully into your spine. The body pinning you in place was unyielding—a solid wall of muscle that absorbed your frantic shoves and kicks without faltering.

“Calm down, calm—” a familiar voice whispered, but with adrenaline fuelling your struggle, terror overrode recognition.

“y/n, calm the fuck down—it’s me, Sunghoon.”

Your movements stilled instantly, your chest heaving with ragged breaths. He flipped a hidden switch near the door, his face was set in frustration, though there was no malice in his eyes, “if you don’t stop struggling, they will find you—“

You looked at him, confused but suspicious. This was, afterall, still Sunghoon—a Pureblood who had killed another of his own tonight, and possibly Jaeyun as well. You were naturally next.

“Look,” he hissed, his tone edged with exasperation. “If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it already. I’ve had plenty of opportunities, remember?” His voice shifted then, quieter, almost coaxing. “I’m going to uncover your mouth, but only if you promise to stop fighting me—at least while we’re in here.”

Your heart pounded, your instincts screaming to resist, but grudgingly, you nodded. If he wanted you dead, he wouldn’t have gone to the trouble of dragging you here.

His hand dropped from your mouth, but before you could fully process what was happening, his arm moved behind you, sliding firmly along the curve of your back. With unsettling ease, he lifted you and settled you on top of the cupboard—the motion fluid and controlled, as though you weighed nothing.

Suddenly, he bit into his wrist, the blood welling instantly. “Sunghoon—what the hell—”

He didn’t answer. Instead, in one fluid movement, he stepped closer, his presence overwhelming as he positioned himself intimately between your legs, his hand sliding up your thigh with deliberate intent, the fabric of your dress gathering beneath his fingers.

“Hey—” you stammered, heat flushing your cheeks as you instinctively tried to stop him. But the protest died in your throat when you saw what he was doing—his bloodied wrist pressed against your wound, his movements steady, precise. The smear of crimson over your skin was deliberate, purposeful, and the air between you seemed to thrum with unspoken tension.

“This will mask the scent,” he murmured, his voice low and almost detached, though his eyes flickered briefly to meet yours. You were just about to ease up when without warning, his other hand had slid up your waist, his fingers splaying possessively over your lower back. Before you could reach, he pulled you flush against him with unsettling ease.

“Sunghoon, st—"

“We’re running out of time,” he cut you off, his tone sharp but tinged with something unfamiliar—urgency, almost pleading—something you’d never imagined him capable of. “You just have to trust me on this.”

But before you could even respond, Sunghoon had slammed his lips against yours. They were soft—unexpectedly so—but his movements were anything but. Fierce and unrelenting, the kiss carried a desperation that felt almost feral, as though the very act was a lifeline he was determined to seize.

You struggled against the onslaught, your hands pushing at his chest, but his grip over your waist tightened, anchoring you to him like a shield. Then the door burst open and his intent—his strategy—became clear to you. His body shifted instantly, fully shielding yours from view as his hand hooked firmly under your thigh, steadying you and sealing the ruse with unnerving precision.

Reluctantly, you played along, your hands faltering as his weight pressed against you, quashing any remaining space between your bodies. Your dress shifted dangerously high as his body leaned into yours, the act deliberate and unyielding. While every instinct screamed at you to shove him away, you forced yourself to stay still, to let the illusion hold—for now.

But then you felt his lips adeptly part yours—deepening the kiss in a way you were never prepared—stealing every breath and muffling every protests. The hard planes of his chest pressed against yours, the beat of his heart—or the echo of yours, you couldn't tell—pulsating in tandem with your own. The dresser creaked in protest, the faint sound barely registering above the storm of your senses.

Time itself seemed to bend, stretching each second unbearably long. Every sensation overwhelmed you—the heat radiating from his closeness, the weight of his touch, the faint creak of the dresser beneath you. It all blurred together, threatening to drown you in its intensity. But then his wandering hands jolted you out of the haze, yanking you sharply back into the present. In a swift, instinctive motion, you wrenched yourself from his embrace. "St-stop..." your breath coming in short, uneven gasps, "—they're... already gone."

Your heart pounded in your chest, and you struggled to steady your racing pulse. The stinging sensation on your lips serving as a persistent reminder of the scorching passion that had nearly consumed you. His kiss, like a brand, had left its mark.

Sunghoon stilled, his chest rising and falling, though you knew better—vampires didn’t tire. His jaw tensed, the sharp line of his profile shadowed as he turned slightly away.

“Right. Of course,” he muttered, his voice quieter than usual, as if trying to gather himself. His usual calm façade was intact, but you noticed the faintest flicker—a barely-there crack in his composure, “—it worked. That’s all that matters.”

You exhaled shakily, unable to look at him, your own pulse thrumming wildly against your ribs. “So, what now?” you asked, your voice sharper than you intended as you tried to compose yourself, “we can’t just make out everytime there’s footsteps.”

He nodded absently, but midway, his brows arched as if you’d said something illuminating. “Actually, that’s a great idea. Come with me—”

“No—” You dug your heels in as he gripped your wrist—not roughly, but with enough firmness to tell you resistance was pointless. You give in, reluctantly letting let him pull you along, his pace deliberate but measured, as if he were navigating a trap you couldn’t yet see. Through a discreet side passage—a door you hadn’t noticed earlier—he led you to an ornate chamber, hidden away from the guest suites. The heavy door creaked open, revealing a room so grand it felt frozen in time: dark velvet drapery pooling on the floor, an unlit fireplace, and a sprawling canopy bed swathed in deep red fabric.

“This is your idea of a safe haven? Your room?” you scoffed as Sunghoon bolted the door shut behind him. With swift movements, he shrugged off his cloak and undid his buttons, feeling hot – though whether it was from all the running or memories from the earlier kiss, only he knew.

You backed away instinctively, unsettled by his casual ease, his shirt hanging open just enough to reveal glimpses of his sculpted chest, the memory of his touch still fresh, an unwelcome echo that made your skin prickle.

“Sunghoon, what are you doing? You’re not suggesting-“

“—unless you want to—” he smirked, tousling his well-kept hair with a deliberate flick. “Relax. I’m joking. Ease up.”

He leaned casually against the edge of the bed, his smirk deepening. “This really is the safest place. Firstly, it’s my room. Secondly, after seeing the way we ‘made out’ in that closet, naturally, they’d assume we’d escalate things here. You know… where we’d be up all night, tangled in—”

“Right! I get it-“ you interjected, cheeks blazing, “still though – this is your room. I’m supposed to let myself be locked with you for the whole night? This evening is as much of a bloodsport to you as it is to them.”

He sighed, “look, if trust is too much to ask, I’ll ask for your clear-headed logic then y/n. If I wanted you dead, you’d already be. But tonight, I’ve been saving you instead.”

“That’s the suspicious part, why did you save me then?”

The air was heavy. The silence felt like it dragged on for too long.

“I know what Noctis Imperium really is Sunghoon so if you want my trust then you must answer me honestly,” you tone was firm.

Sunghoon tilted his head lazily, his lips curving ever so faintly, “Oh? Do you now?”

You ignored the sardonic edge in his tone and pressed on. “It’s a Reaping, isn’t it?” the word dropped like a blade between you, heavy and damning. “The bloodsport? That’s just the opening act. It weeds out the unworthy—leaves only the best standing. The strongest. The smartest. The richest. And they’re the ones who get turned. It’s systematic.”

His gaze sharpened, but he didn’t interrupt.

“This event coincides with a blood moon which is due sometime this month—that’s very specific. If you guys wanted bloodsport, it didn’t even have to align,” you continued, stepping closer, “and clearly it isn’t just about sick entertainment is it? It’s about expansion—physically and financially.”

Your hands balled into fists at your sides as you turned to meet his gaze, your voice daring and unyielding. “If you want me to trust you tonight, then tell me—why are you here? For a Reaping as well?”

For the first time, something flickered in his expression. A fleeting shadow of recognition—or understanding—but it vanished as quickly as it came. His smirk didn’t return, and when he finally spoke, his voice was low, measured, “sounds like you have done your homework-“

“That’s not an answer,” you cut off.

“Fine. If it will get you to shut up tonight, I’ll entertain you,” he plopped himself on the bed, hands braced behind him, “I had my suspicions about this... place,” he admitted, his tone calm but laced with something heavier, darker. “But a Reaping? That’s far-fetched. The Reaping is after all shunned and is not widespread knowledge,” he continued, his voice dropping lower, “it’s forbidden—archaic. Lost and buried for a reason.”

“Apparently not,” you shot back, “because I read a book on it in the library so you being here can either mean you’re part of this ring or someone is.”

“You’re smart enough to find this place and unearth a rather dark history and practice by my kind—” he spoke with a quiet, almost resigned tone, “but can't see just how absurd it'd be for me to play detective with you and ask you to run your simulation for me if all I wanted was to attend a ritual I am supposedly to have been part of?”

For a moment, your gaze faltered—not out of fear, but something closer to embarrassment. “Then why are you here?” you demanded, suspicion still sharp in your voice. His explanation didn’t erase your doubts—not yet.

“I’m kind of like you,” his voice is calm, “except I’m not just playing detective. I’m here to root out the deviants  among us. I don’t just cover foul plays up – I follow the trail and remove the troublemakers.”

You stared into his gaze a little longer, letting the silence simmer, trying to search if there is any faltering – if he was lying. But it is hard to tell with him.

“Not the answer you’re looking for?” he raised his brows – challenging and proud, “that’s entirely your fault for jumping into conclusions when it comes to me.”

“Well it’s not like you were the most forthcoming anyway,” you grumbled back, “you keep people in the dark and then say cryptic shit. You brought it unto yourself.”

He shrugged, “if you say so. The point is, if what you say is true then the odds are stacked against us.”

“us?” you echoed, incredulous, “Just a few days ago, you said I was nothing more than a tool. What’s changed? Can’t survive on your fangs alone?”

He scoffed, his smirk sharpening. “If it helps you sleep at night, then let’s just say it makes the two of us.” He leaned back slightly, his gaze steady and unreadable. “Now, can you set your blade down and ease up?”

You hesitated, the weight of his words settling heavily. Finally, you let out a sharp breath. “Fine. For now. But don’t mistake this for trust.”

His smirk deepened faintly, though his gaze remained steady. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

— ix

They said the third night was set to be a respite. But by now, you knew better. You knew their sick way of twisting words.

As you stood outside the Hall of Reckoning, your fists clenched tightly at your sides, the full weight of the night before bore down on you. The bloodsport, the laughter, the violence—it wasn’t chaos. It wasn’t chance. It was a gladiator ring.

The realization sat heavy in your chest, making it hard to breathe. You had no illusions about the outcome: the deck was stacked, and you were playing with cards designed to fail. But it was too late to run. Far too late.

“What about the masks?” you asked as you approached the butler usually manning the mask cart.

“No longer needed, Madam,” he replied smoothly, pushing the door open.

The Hall of Reckoning. At first glance, the name seemed almost merciful—a place where justice might be sought, where those who endured could demand retribution for their suffering.

But the irony revealed itself immediately. For the mortals, there could be no reckoning. Survival in the bloodsport had made them complicit in its savagery, their hands stained with the violence they had been forced to commit. This hall, for all its grandeur, wasn’t a sanctuary. It was a monument to their sins.

Every detail in the room seemed to echo that truth. Murals stretched across the vaulted ceiling, vivid and grotesque in their depiction of Dante’s seven circles of hell. Around the room, statues stood like solemn judges—angels with shattered wings, warriors frozen mid-fall, veiled damsels cloaked in grief. Their hollow eyes seemed to follow every movement, bearing silent witness to the carnage both endured and inflicted.

This wasn’t a Hall of Reckoning meant to absolve. It was designed to haunt.

The proof lay in the faces of the remaining guests. Unlike before, only a quarter of them had made it here, their masks removed for the first time. It was painfully clear now who among them were human for trepidation clung to their pale, drawn faces, their hollow gazes—stark contrast to the air of haughtiness and confidence that most displayed during the first day.

And then, there were the vampires. At least by the looks of it for their beauty was unparalleled, ethereal almost, as if they’d been carved from marble to perfection. But that perfection was unnerving, cold, their smiles charming yet faintly menacing in certain light. They moved with an unnatural grace, each step calculated and precise. Their eyes, ageless and predatory, gleamed like polished glass, betraying nothing but an unwavering hunger that lingered beneath their elegant façades.

Together, the humans and vampires painted a stark contrast: the fragility of mortality set against the eerie permanence of the immortal.

You were still absorbing the scene when a hand grasped yours, the touch firm yet deliberate, calculated.

Startled, you turned sharply, only to find yourself face-to-face with a man bowing slightly as he pressed a light kiss to your knuckles. “My Lady,” he murmured, his voice smooth and infuriatingly charming.  He straightened, and the wide playful grin that stretched across his face was unmistakable. The glint of a lip ring under the soft glow of the chandeliers sealed his identity.

“Jaeyun,” you muttered, his name slipping out like a reflex.

Unmasked, his face was even more disarming than you’d imagined. His features were sharp—his cheekbones high and his jawline so clean it seemed almost sculpted. Yet there was a boyishness to him, a devil-may-care charm that softened the harsh lines, making him look approachable in a way that felt both alluring and dangerous.

That grin of his was impossible to ignore. His lips, fuller and more expressive than you remembered, curled just slightly as if he were privy to a joke no one else was in on. The lip ring only added to his allure, a small but significant detail that gave him an edge, an irreverent flair.

He tilted his head, his golden hair catching the faint light, and for a moment, he seemed to drink in your surprise. His gaze was playful, mischievous, daring you to react. Where Sunghoon exuded stormy gravitas, with every movement deliberate and weighted, Jaeyun felt like a gust of wind—unpredictable, fleeting, and impossible to pin down.

Before you could react, you felt another presence—familiar, cold, and steady. A hand slid to the small of your back then over your waist, firm and commanding as it pulled you away from Jaeyun.

“You’ve had enough of his company,” Sunghoon said, his voice cutting through the din with icy precision. His tone was low but laced with a chill that sent a ripple through the air, “he’s just a vermin.”

Jaeyun’s grin widened, deliberately slow, as he released you, his movements deliberate and mocking. “Ah, or so I hear about last night,” he replied smoothly. His lip curled in amusement as his eyes flicked between you and Sunghoon. “Apologies. Just a formality, of course. I’d never dare touch what you’ve claimed, Lord Park.”

Your breath caught, mortified. You knew exactly what Jaeyun was implying.

“No, we’re not— we didn’t—" you tried to clarify, but Sunghoon’s grip tightened, cutting off your words as he turned you sharply, his hand firm on your waist as he steered you away.

“Excuse you,” you exclaimed, stumbling slightly as he wheeled you toward the table. His jaw was set, a shadow of something unreadable flashing in his eyes. Without a word, he pulled out a chair and practically pushed you into it, his actions possessive and territorial.

He snatched the plaque bearing Jaeyun’s name from the table and thrust it at a passing butler. “Find this bastard another seat,” he ordered coldly.

Before the butler could even take a step, Sunghoon dropped into the chair beside you—Jaeyun’s chair. His hand rested lightly on the table, fingers drumming in a rhythm that felt calculated, as though he was staking his claim with every deliberate tap.

“Just because you two have some bad blood doesn’t mean I should be the collateral damage,” you huffed, crossing your arms in defiance. “At least you didn’t kill him.”

“I should have,” Sunghoon’s gaze remained fixed on Jaeyun, his expression darkening. “You should stop letting him talk to you,” he said, his tone sharp. “He’s poison wrapped in silk. It doesn’t matter how harmless he seems—he’ll ruin you just the same.”

“And you’re not?” you shot back, your voice low but challenging. “Sunghoon, you’re just as suspicious as everyone else.”

His head snapped toward you, the storm in his gaze faltering. For a brief moment, something softer flickered across his features—something almost tender. His shoulders eased as he seemed to struggle for words.

“It’s not—” he began, his voice quieter, but his unfinished sentence hung in the air, swallowed by the sudden shift in the room.

“Welcome,” the host’s voice rang out, smooth and practiced, drawing all attention to the front of the room. He stepped forward, his grin too wide to be sincere. “After all the fun yesterday,” he drawled, his words dripping with theatrical flair, “tonight will just be purely a celebration. Unending feast and fireworks.”

The room shifted uneasily, the faint clink of glassware underscoring the uncomfortable silence.

“As I’ve reassured you all—what happened last night is not your fault,” the host continued, his grin widening to something almost maniacal. His gaze swept over the room like a predator scanning for weakness.

The words hung in the air, their implication sinking in like lead. The humans, especially, seemed to shrink into their seats, their faces pale and drawn, haunted by memories of the previous night.

“Greed,” the host continued, his voice both rich and biting, “is a poisonous thing. And with stakes so high, we understand when one must act… out of self-preservation.”

Your breath caught at his choice of words. Slowly, your gaze swept the hall, catching subtle tremors in the crowd—the twitch of a hand, the widening of eyes before they schooled back into forced calm. A woman in crimson sat frozen, her glass of wine untouched. Nearby, a man swallowed hard, his fingers gripping his fork like a lifeline. It struck you then: these people must have seen—or done—unspeakable things last night. Survival had come at a cost, and their faces betrayed that cost in every taut line and shadowed expression.

“Rest assured,” the host added, his tone lightening into something almost whimsical, yet no less sinister. “Our discretion is ironclad. Whatever happens here… stays here.”

The words slithered through the air like smoke, a chill rippling in their wake. It was meant to be reassurance but you knew better—it was a warning, one that is thinly veiled in polished charm.

For a moment, the room remained frozen, the silence taut with unspoken apprehension. Then, the faint clink of glassware broke the stillness—a subtle signal that sent ripples through the crowd. The guests shifted in their seats, some reaching hesitantly for their utensils, others masking their unease behind stiff smiles and murmured conversation.

You glanced down at the table before you as the quiet ceremony of dining began. The elaborate spread was a grotesque spectacle, the kind of decadence that bordered on parody. Platters overflowed with fleshy cuts of meat, dripping in dark wine sauces that shimmered like blood under the chandeliers. Fruits glistened like polished jewels, their vibrant colors almost too vivid to be real. Desserts spun from delicate sugar glimmered with an unnatural brilliance.

The clinking of forks and knives against fine china grated against your nerves. It wasn’t the sound of sustenance—it was a performance, a ritual of excess that felt grotesque in its mockery. You shifted uneasily in your seat, unable to quell the nausea roiling in your stomach. This wasn’t a feast for survivors. It was a celebration for predators.

“y/n,” Sunghoon’s voice cut through the oppressive din, low and quiet, his breath ghosting against your ear, “meet me in the library once the firework starts.”

You turned, but he was already gone, leaving behind only the faint scent of his cologne—a mix of wood and bergamot that lingered in the air, equal parts hypnotizing and suffocating.

Time dragged after that, the air in the hall thick with unspoken tension. Each moment stretched unbearably as the chatter around you ebbed and flowed, the underlying unease never quite dissipating. When the first explosion of light burst across the night sky, you slipped away unnoticed, your footsteps soft amidst the murmurs of awe and raised glasses.

The Corridors of Treachery felt colder, quieter as you made your way to the library. Once, these endless stretches of identical doors and twisting hallways had felt alive—ever-shifting, as though the castle itself sought to mislead and ensnare. But now, their tricks no longer held sway over you. After several visits, you had unraveled their secrets, piecing together the intricate design that made chaos into order.

The corridor was more than a labyrinth; they were a calculated test. A clever combination of architectural illusion, psychological distortion, and mathematical precision, that tests not just one’s preserverance—but also the mind. The patterns embedded in the walls required focus to decipher: sconces positioned slightly off-center, cracks in the stone tiles forming faint lines that pointed toward the correct path, even the rhythmic shifts in echo that whispered of direction. It wasn’t enough to simply try door after door—one needed intellect and restraint to navigate the maze. If approached in a state of heightened fear, the corridors became a prison. Anxiety clouded judgment, turned every door into a dead end, and every turn into an endless loop. But you’d learned to steady yourself, to let logic and observation guide your steps rather than emotion.

Now, your movements were purposeful, almost effortless. Three lefts, a right, pause at the second door. The sequence was etched into your mind, the once-treacherous maze reduced to a solvable equation. Without hesitation, you pushed open the heavy library door.

The room stretched before you, towering shelves disappearing into the shadows. The faint scent of aged parchment and leather hung in the air as you lit your oil lamp, its flickering glow barely cutting through the darkness.

Sunghoon, however, wasn’t there.

Figures, you sighed, trailing your fingers along the shelves, half out of habit, half out of frustration. Why did he even—

A sudden gust of wind swept through the room, sharp and biting. The lamp hissed and went dark, plunging you into thick silence. You stilled, your heart leaping into your throat as darkness swallowed you whole.

Moonlight spilled through the tall, arched windows, faint and ethereal. The shadows danced in its glow, painting the room in shifting silver and gray. You fumbled for the small flint striker embedder near the base of the oil lamp, about to twist it when a glimmer among the books caught your eye—faint but unmistakable.

You stilled, the lamp momentarily forgotten as you stepped closer towards the book in the shelf. It wasn’t just the sheen of the leather—it was something deliberate, something hidden. Your fingers brushed the spine, its texture rough and cold. It was The Obsidian Testament—the one you picked out yesterday—but beneath the gilded letters were faint Latin scrawls, curling like veins across the surface like an incantation. You didn’t remember them being there yesterday.

You pulled the book free, its weight heavier than it should have been, like it carried more than just words within its pages.

As you turned it over in your hands, you can feel the roughness in the surface— something you noticed yesterday but didn’t press on. It didn't feel like wear and tear. It was faintly raised but textured in a way that felt deliberate, though the design was invisible to the naked eye. You held it closer to the window, letting the silver light of the moon spill across its surface.

And then you saw it.

Slowly, like ink blooming through parchment, a faint, silvery glow materialised. Ominously scrawled in faint, curling script were words you could barely decipher:"The blood of the pure seals the bond. The moon bears witness."

Beneath it, a coat of arms emerged—hidden from sight, lying dormant until called forth by the moonlight. A spiked crown sat atop the shield, flanked by a raven and a wolf poised as sentinels. Intricate designs framed the emblem, with the motto etched beneath it: "In shadows, we endure. In blood, we rise."

Your blood turned cold. You knew that coat of arms.

“Sunghoon,” you whispered, the realization hitting you like a thunderclap. It was his crest—the same one he often wore on his lapel.

“Took you long enough,” a low voice drawled, making you jump. You whirled, your heart pounding as a figure emerged from the shadows near the door. For a moment, you thought it was Sunghoon but as he stepped into the faint glow of moonlight, the features were unmistakably Jaeyun’s.

“What do you mean?” you demanded, taking a step back toward the table. Unease curled in your chest.

He scoffed, looking mildly offended as he stepped closer. The way the moonlight caught his face accentuated the sharpness of his grin—mischievous, yes, but laced with something colder. “Why do you look so scared of me now? Sunghoon should be the one you’re wary of. Ah, of course, he did save you, didn’t he?”

Before you could react, he vanished—only to reappear beside you, one hand braced against the table as he leaned down, head tilted coyly. Another vampire, you thought.

“Ever considered that saving you serves him more than it serves you? Perhaps he might even be saving you for himself.”

You stiffened, refusing to let his words take root. “And what about you? You’ve been dropping crumbs here and there for me—” you countered sharply. “Nothing is ever free—not from the likes of you.”

Jaeyun’s lips quirked, amused. “You sound just like one of us, y/n. You would make a great addition,” he drawled. “I’m helping because well, you’re not my enemy and I hate inflicting collateral damage.”

“And your enemy is?”

“Sunghoon. Or rather, royal purebloods like him. Someone who has a legacy to reclaim,” he said with a singsong edge. “They represent the dark ages—the rigid hierarchy of power that exalted purity above all else, splintering us with its toxic elitism.”

“Are you not a pureblood?”

“No. I’m a halfblood—borne out of a Pureblood and a Spoilblood.” His tone turned casual, but there was a slight edge to it. “Practically blasphemy to those supremacists. Think of it like a noble bedding their servant.”

The admission hung in the air, bitter and heavy. But you knew better than to simply lap up his words, “and yet you’re here? Toasting and laughing as if you belong.”

His grin faltered just slightly, a flicker of something darker flashing across his face before he masked it with his usual nonchalance. “I’m here because time has changed. We, here, are no longer bound by such hierarchical concept of power—”

He unfurled his hand, and another book materialised. You recognised it immediately—The Annals of Kings, the book you’d pocketed the other day, “—but nothing stays buried forever. Blood, as they say, runs thicker than water.”

Your frown deepened as you stepped closer, your eyes scanning the page he’d flipped open. It was the family tree—the same one you’d seen before, with several members’ pictures burnt out, their identities erased.

“The Annals of Kings usually purges the disgraced from history,” Jaeyun said, his tone casual but laced with intrigue.

Your gaze drifted lower, catching on a footnote you hadn’t noticed before. It detailed how, after the kingdom fell, forbidden books like the Obsidian Testament were uncovered and destroyed. But one line stopped you cold: “Rumor has it the royal bloodline survived through a single son, then eight years old, whose charred remains were never found.”

Your eyes shifted to the Obsidian Testament on the table, the coat of arms seem to glow brighter, its presence now feeling impossibly heavy.

“Who do you think that son grew up to be?” Jaeyun asked softly, his voice a dark thread weaving through your spiralling thoughts.

Your throat tightened. His words gnawed at you, each syllable fitting too neatly into the doubts you were already trying to suppress about Sunghoon. But Jaeyun wasn’t someone you could trust—not completely. His grin felt like a trap disguised as an invitation. Trying to seem unfazed, you retorted, “And your point is?”

“That you should know your enemies,” he said, stepping closer, his presence suffocating. “The Reaping holds immense significance for someone like him—symbolically and physically.” His lips curled into a bitter smile. “The current shadow reign is fracturing, and if someone like him—a figure with such legacy—steps forward to challenge it, everything could come crashing down."

“He is, after all—” Jaeyun suddenly appeared behind you, his long fingers curling around both of your arms like claws. He turned you sharply toward the window, forcing you to look outside.

Below, the rose garden was alive with movements, figures clashing in a violent blur. Your breath hitched as a body crumpled near the fountain, blood pooling beneath it. Then, through the shifting shadows, Sunghoon stepped into view, his chest heaving, a bloodied sword in hand. His expression was cold, detached, as he surveyed the carnage.

“—notorious for being bloodthirsty,” Jaeyun finished, his tone dripping with venom.

“You're not su—” you called out but when you turned, he was already gone, leaving only the echo of his words in your ears.

Before you could process his disappearance, the sharp sound of steel meeting steel cut through the air, pulling your attention sharply back to the garden.

You turned toward the window again, just in time to see Sunghoon locked in battle once more. Two shadows darted around him, their movements impossibly fast—blurs of black against the silver glow of the moonlight. The figures clashed violently, steel colliding in bursts of sparks, the muted sounds barely audible beneath the distant roar of fireworks.

Your breath caught as Sunghoon dodged a strike aimed at his head, his blade moving in a deadly rhythm to fend off one blow after another. The attackers worked in tandem, circling him like wolves hunting their prey.

Almost without realizing it, you followed their movements from one window to the next, each fleeting glimpse quickening your pulse. When you reached the outer hallway near the armory, the scene came into sharp focus.

Sunghoon stood at the center of the rose garden, near the weeping angel statue. The moonlight bathed the scene in stark clarity, illuminating his form as he fended off the taller of the two attackers. The man’s strikes were heavy and relentless, forcing Sunghoon back with every blow.

Then, with a sharp pivot, Sunghoon turned the tide. His blade cleanly plunging into his chest with brutal precision. Blood sprayed across the weeping angel grotesquely as the figure crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

But the danger wasn’t over.

The second attacker appeared from the shadows behind him, silent and deadly, a spear poised to strike.

Given everything you’d pieced together about him—his secrets, his lies, his family—you probably should have let nature run its course. Let him get attacked. Let him fall. Let him bleed.

But you didn’t and apparently, your body had a life of its own as your hands moved before your could catch up, grabbing a bow that had been left discarded near the windowsill. The wood felt foreign and unwieldy in your grip, but you didn’t care. Your fingers fumbled, pulling the string taut, the arrow trembling as you tried to steady your aim.

You weren’t a good shot. You knew that. The arrow might not even strike the man. But it didn’t need to. All it had to do was distract him.

You exhaled sharply, releasing the arrow. It cut through the air, a streak of silver in the darkness. The attacker flinched as the arrow grazed his arm, his blade faltering mid-swing. It was enough.

Sunghoon spun with brutal precision, his sword arcing upward in a deadly sweep. The man barely had time to react before the blade found its mark, cutting him down. His body hit the ground with a sickening thud, blood pooling around him as the garden fell silent once more.

For a moment, Sunghoon stood motionless, the tip of his blade resting in the dirt, as if even he needed a reprieve. Then you saw it—a dark patch blooming on his coat, stark against the pale moonlight. Blood.

Your breath hitched. You couldn’t tell why your chest tightened at the sight, but it did.

He staggered, using his sword for support, his breaths coming in shallow, ragged gasps. But before you could call out to him, he vanished—a blur dissolving into the shadowy expanse of the garden below.

“Sunghoon!” you called after him, but the only response was the distant crackle of fading fireworks. Darting from one window to the next, you searched desperately, peering into the garden for any sign of him.

But all you found was stillness.

The gardens were littered with lifeless bodies, their forms grotesque and twisted. Some had fangs bared, their features frozen in feral rage. Others had begun to disintegrate—their flesh sloughing off in patches, bones crumbling into soil as though the earth itself were reclaiming them. That was apparently how vampires die, you realized with a shudder: reverting to their original forms, their unnatural beauty undone, and their once-mighty presence reduced to the frailty of dust and decay.

But more than the remains, it was Sunghoon’s vanishing that disturbed you the most. As you lingered by the window, the night only grew quieter. The shadows betrayed nothing, and the garden below remained hauntingly still.

He won’t die easily, you reassured yourself as you hesitantly step away from the window, eyes still flicking toward the darkened garden as you made your way back to your room, each step heavier than the last. You pushed your door absentmindedly, mind lost in thoughts, why do you care so much, you thought bitterly, trying to distract yourself, he’s not your ally. He is a lying, manipulative-

Except there he was—the very man who haunted your mind—sitting at the foot of your bed.

Battered, bruised, and bloodied, Sunghoon looked nothing like the composed predator you’d grown accustomed to. His back rested against the mattress, his head tilted back in exhaustion, eyes half-lidded as if he barely registered your presence. Blood stained his shirt, his once-pristine collar torn and soaked through. The dark fabric clung to his skin, emphasizing the sharp lines of his frame and the sheer vulnerability of his state.

“Sunghoon…” you whispered, unsure whether it was relief or fear tightening your throat.

He didn’t respond immediately, his breathing shallow and uneven. For a fleeting moment, the vulnerability of the scene struck you—this wasn’t the stoic, untouchable figure you’d grown used to. He looked... mortal.

His head shifted slightly, but his gaze didn’t meet yours. “I’m fine,” he muttered hoarsely, frustration lacing his voice. “Just… give me a moment.”

You stepped closer, your body moving before your mind could catch up. Despite everything—the lies, the doubts, the warning signs—you knelt in front of him, hands trembling. “You’re bleeding out, you’re not fine,” you said sharply.

Your eyes dropped to the dark patch spreading across his lower abdomen, fresh blood seeping through the fabric. Panic licked at the edges of your mind as you remembered how his wounds used to heal instantly. “Why isn’t it healing?” you asked, horrified.

“Too much damage for an old body, I guess,” he quipped weakly, a sardonic smile tugging at his lips before he winced.

“But you’re a pureblood,” you blurted – reminded suddenly of what Jaeyun had said earlier, how the Reaping was significant for someone like Sunghoon, not just symbolically but physically. “Never mind,” you said quickly, hoisting his arm over your shoulders. “We need to stop the bleeding. Can you get up?”

“You know,” he rasped, leaning heavily against you, “if you leave me here, I could just… die. Problem solved.”

“Not funny,” you gritted out, half-dragging him to the bed. “Besides, too late for that. I’m already in this gladiator ring. You’d just be replaced by someone worse.”

“You’re adapting well,” he drawled, though his voice was strained.

“And you’re not,” you shot back, grimacing as his head thudded lightly against the wooden frame. His sharp intake of breath made your guilt flare. “Sorry,” you muttered, adjusting him with more care, “I’m not used to you being this… human. Stay here, I’ll be back.”

You returned moments later with a first-aid kit. His face was slick with sweat, but his eyes—sharp and calculating—followed your every movement. He leaned back against the headboard, his posture deceptively casual despite the bruises and blood staining his shirt. One leg stretched out along the mattress, while the other was bent at the knee, his foot tucked close to his thigh.

You settled beside his bent leg, placing the kit near his outstretched one for easy access. Shrugging off your sheer cape to free your arms, the fabric pooled beside you, leaving you in the midnight-black velvet dress beneath. The low sweetheart neckline felt far too revealing for your comfort, but practicality took precedence. Ignoring the unease prickling at the back of your mind, you focused on sorting through the kit’s contents with swift precision.

“Baring your shoulders in front of a wounded vampire,” Sunghoon murmured, his lips curving into a faint smirk despite the exhaustion that lined his features. His gaze flicked briefly to your now-bared shoulders. “Reckless.”

“If you had no self-control, like eight years ago, you’d have flung yourself at me cape and all,” you grumbled disinterestedly while tearing open a sterile pad. You didn’t miss the slight twitch of his brow at your words.

“This is going to sound crude,” you continued, gesturing at the blood-soaked fabric covering his lower abdomen, “but you need to take that off.”

He smirked, the expression so maddeningly coy that you were this close to hurling the entire first-aid kit at his face. Only the sight of his injuries stopped you.

“Gladly,” he drawled, his tone light and infuriating, “but I’m far too weak right now. You’ll have to do the honors.”

You scowled. “I know you’re not that weak.”

He leaned back, the movement drawing his bent leg closer to you, his gaze never leaving yours, “your choice.”

Cursing under your breath, you leaned closer and began unbuttoning his shirt. The fabric peeled away, revealing the deep, angry wound slashing across his abdomen. Blood seeped sluggishly, staining his pale skin—but it wasn’t just the injury that caught your attention. Beneath the torn fabric, the sharp lines of his torso stood out, his muscles tense under the faint light.

It was jarring how even battered and shirtless, his broad shoulders and tall frame made him seem larger than life. His physique, though marred by the fresh wounds, seemed to amplify his imposing aura, each flex of muscle a stark reminder of the strength he carried even in his weakest moments. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to focus on the gash instead of the sheer dominance his form exuded.

“Hold still,” you muttered, pressing an alcohol-soaked pad against the gash.

He hissed, his knuckles going white as he gripped the sheets. “You could be gentler.”

“Enjoy it,” you said with mock cheer, pressing harder. “Your super-healing isn’t working, so welcome to our reality.”

His exhale was sharp, almost a laugh, though it sounded more like a groan. “Why did they attack you?” you asked, focused on cleaning the wound.

“There’s always a bounty on the head of a pureblood,” he replied dismissively, his tone brushing off the question.

“Especially a pureblood with a reigning ancestry?” you pressed though his expression didn’t shift.

“Does knowing that I have links to old royalty suddenly make me attractive?” he asked, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“You tell me,” you retorted, dabbing the edges of the wound clean before reaching for the gauze. “Apparently the Reaping originated from your family. You knew all about it.”

“I love how distrustful you are of me,” he muttered, his voice laced with dry amusement, “and yet here you are—patching me up, looking rather vulnerable yourself.” His gaze dripped briefly down to your body, as if trying to unsettle you. “I wear my crest openly, y/n. If I wanted to hide my ancestry, I wouldn’t flaunt it, would I? And besides—” a sardonic smirk tugged at his lips, “—if I’d completed my first Reaping ages ago, I wouldn’t be in this pathetic state, relying on a mere mortal to save me.”

“You’re a walking contradiction do you know that?” you muttered, eyes focused on cleaning the remaining dark blood on his gash. “Let’s say you do hate your background that much then why wear the crest around like a badge of honor?”

Sunghoon didn’t hesitate, his voice calm but carrying an edge of practicality. “Because in places like these,” he gestured subtly, “ancestry and purity of blood can mean everything. That crest opens doors that would otherwise be slammed shut. It’s a key, y/n and one I’ve learned to wield to my advantage.”

“You always talk as if you’re not one of them.”

He scoffed weakly, “I’ve killed some of them and they tried to kill me as well—does that look like we are of the same camp?”

Your hands stilled, your gaze lifting to meet his. It was infuriating how his answers were always so maddeningly straightforward—delivered with an air of certainty that made your doubts feel baseless. It wasn’t just irritating—it made you feel stupid, even guilty. Like your suspicions were nothing more than the product of paranoia, blinding you to truths that should be obvious.

“You said you haven’t completed even your first cycle of Reaping—why?”

He leaned back, a sardonic smirk tugging at his lips. “While we’re at it, why don’t you ask how many people I’ve bedded over the centuries I’ve lived?” His voice was laced with mockery, his gaze unrelenting. “You don’t get to ask all the questions, y/n. It takes two to tango.”

Your brows furrowed as you pressed an adhesive bandage over the wound on his abdomen. “Fine. Then you can ask me questions, though I doubt there’s anything interesting you don’t already know.”

His smirk faded, replaced by a sharper edge as his eyes narrowed. “Why did you save me back there?”

You stilled, realizing too late that maybe you shouldn’t have egged him on. His gaze pinned you, waiting for an answer you weren’t sure how to give.

Avoiding his piercing eyes, you grabbed an antiseptic wipe and turned your attention to the shallow cut on his bicep. “Hold still,” you muttered, focusing on dabbing at the wound.

His muscles tensed slightly under your touch. “If you want honesty from me,” he murmured, his tone low and firm, “you’ll need to give me just as much honesty.”

You pressed the pad harder than necessary, drawing a sharp inhale from him. “To make us even,” you answered steadily. “You saved me twice. Now it’s repaid.”

He scoffed, “Of course.”

You shifted closer, careful not to lean too far into his space, though the proximity was unavoidable. Your hands moved to tend to the faint bruises along his jaw, the sharp lines of his face brushing against your fingertips. His skin was cool beneath your touch, but the air between you felt heavy, charged.

Your knees brushed his as you adjusted your position, the small contact enough to make you hyper-aware of how close the two of you were. His shirtless torso, marred by bruises and blood, felt more imposing than vulnerable this close.

You feigned nonchalance, focusing intently on the bruises instead of the weight of his gaze burning into you. The room didn’t help—the soft crackle of the fireplace was casting flickering light across his face, deepening the shadows under his sharp cheekbones and making the moment feel stiflingly intimate.

“You’re awfully quiet suddenly,” he mocked, his tone low and taunting. “Also, why are you avoiding my gaze? You’re not suddenly shy are you? After taking off my—ugh—” He winced as you pressed the antiseptic harder than necessary onto the cut along his cheekbone.

“Isn't it my turn now?” you shot back, your voice sharp and unwavering. “You haven’t answered my question earlier—why haven’t you completed the Reaping?”

He sighed. "Because it’s barbaric,” he said evenly, though a flicker of something darker seeped into his tone. “If you believe a vampire can ever have a moral standing, this would be the closest thing I have to it.”

He paused, his voice dipping lower, laced with bitterness that seemed to surface despite his best efforts, “tying someone to your power for eternity? That’s not dominance—that’s desperation. It’s a legacy I’ve spent centuries trying to outrun—the dark history of which I constantly had to carry over my shoulders, sins of which are thrusted upon me as though I am to pay their penance.”

His tone softened, almost imperceptibly, as he continued. “That’s probably why I’ve allied myself with the Council of Elders for a long time. It started as an act to prove to the world that I am not like what my blood dictates—” his voice dipped, quieter now, as if he was speaking more to himself than to you, “—but now it just feels like a duty. A duty to clean the world after the seeds of chaos that my ancestors have planted—“

Your gaze flicked to his, caught off guard by the quiet rawness in his tone. His eyes were elsewhere, focused on the flickering shadows dancing along the walls—perhaps trying to distract himself, perhaps lost in a memory. The sincerity in his words was equal parts fascinating and infuriating. Infuriating because they felt genuine. Too genuine for someone like him. It’s as if being reduced to this state—a state just a fraction closer to that of a mere mortal—extinguish the cryptic layers he had always put up.

But of course, such a rare moment didn’t last long. His gaze returned to yours, and so did the familiar smirk—lazy, detached and maddening. “Besides, I’ve never seen the need for renewal,” he added lightly, brushing the weight of his previous words aside, “longevity is getting boring anyway. Unless, of course, you’re offering yourself up to be mine. That might make eternity interesting again.”

He leaned forward slightly, the ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips. “We could spend centuries being at each other’s throats. Literally.”

“I’d poison my blood first then we both can go down together,” you rolled your eyes, moving on to the huge cut on his eyebrows.

“Just like how you poisoned me 8 years ago?” he said suddenly.

That was it. The elephant in the room. Finally out in the open.

Your hand stilled, a physical testament to the guilt you’d carried for years. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, but his stare was inescapable—heavy, suffocating, like it had the weight to crush you on the spot. “I guess the grudge is still there, alright,” you said, your tone brittle with feigned nonchalance, desperate to temper the tension building between you. The isolation, the proximity—it was all suddenly too much. “Then why haven’t you carried out your vengeance?”

“I asked first,” he retorted sharply. Beneath the edge of his voice, though, there was something fragile, almost pleading. “Why did you poison me?”

You hesitated, the truth clawing at the back of your throat. “Because we’re not meant to be,” you finally said, after some hesitation, surprised at yourself for the honesty and depth that you yourself never dared to confront. “We’re too dangerous for each other. Too toxic. It was the only way to break it.”

Sunghoon scoffed, his hand shooting out to capture yours. His grip was firm, startlingly so, yet it lacked malice—gentle in a way that forced your gaze to his. His eyes were unguarded, piercing, the storm within them quieting into something raw and vulnerable.

“Did you ever love me?” he murmured, his voice cracking faintly under the weight of the words.

You froze. The question hit you like a tidal wave, its weight settling deep in your chest. His gaze softened, achingly so, as if the silence cut.

“Did you?” he croaked, his voice barely above a whisper, yet it held a sharp edge, as though the answer could either mend or shatter him.

The guilt clawed at you, deeper than ever, threatening to crack the mask you wore. “Hardly matters anymore, does it?” you shot back, your voice wavering despite your best effort. “I ended it in the worst way possible.”

His grip over yours tightened ever so slightly, his jaw clenching as frustration flickered across his face. Slowly, deliberately, he shifted. Rising halfway, he leaned forward, his shadow devouring the faint light as his frame loomed impossibly large over you. The bed dipped under his weight, tilting you toward him as if even the mattress was conspiring to close the gap.

And suddenly, he was too close—towering over you like a shadow you couldn’t escape. You instinctively leaned back, but his free hand braced against the bed beside you, a silent, immovable barrier that kept you locked in place.

You swallowed thickly, realising how utterly compromising the moment was. His sheer size, the commanding breadth of his shoulders, the dominance in the way he loomed over you, left no room for doubt: he could crush you if he wanted to. The sharp lines of his torso, from the broad planes of his chest to the rigid definition of his abdomen, were marked by bruises and wounds that should have humanized him, softened the edge of his dominance—but they didn’t. Even in his weakened state, he radiated sheer power, every ripple of muscle a quiet, unspoken warning that he could break you, overwhelm you, overpower you, without much effort. His grip on you wrist wasn’t painful, but it thrummed with latent power, the kind that made you all too aware of the control he wasn’t even exerting yet.

You hated how easily he made you feel so small. Yet, despite the tightness in your chest and the way his gaze bore into yours with a storm of unspoken emotions, you refused to flinch. Refused to show that he has an effect on you. You knew him—getting you flustered and yield had always been something he thrived on and now, in a set-up that is meant to amplify it, you refused to give him that satisfaction.

“My turn,” you murmured, the words cutting through the silence like a thread pulled too tight. “Did you?” the question wasn’t a slip—it was purposeful, a strike meant to turn the tables.

Except, the joke was probably on you because instead of a response, something in him snapped. His grip on your wrist tightened almost too punishingly and his other hand shot to your jaw, holding you still as his lips crashed against yours.

Your body tensed at the unexpected contact, but his arm had slithered around your back—locking you in place like a steel band—fingers digging into your ribs as if tethering you in place—closer, ever closer—leaving no room to move, no air to breathe, only the suffocating weight of his presence pressing down on you. The curve of his palm seemed to mold perfectly to your body, a gesture that felt both infuriatingly possessive and unnervingly intimate. His hand, a possessive vice around your nape, tilted your head, allowing him to plunder your mouth with a punishing intensity, his lips slotting against yours with a brutal, consuming force.

You hands clawed at his shoulders, frantically trying to push him off, to break free, but every resistance seemed to ignite a darker hunger within him. With a grunt, he crushed you against him, making you feel every plane and contour of his chest and muscles, the searing heat of his skin branding yours, the unyielding planes of his chest pressing into you, heavy and demanding. Before you could catch your breath, he pressed forward with a brutal force, throwing off your balance and sending you crashing down onto the sheets—his lips never leaving yours as if it was his very lifeline. The world around you spun and you struggled to regain your bearings, but he was relentless, his lips moving with ever greater fervour, forcing your lips apart, his tongue invading your mouth with a forceful, dominant stroke.

The weight of his body pinned you down, heavy and unyielding, his bare skin hot against yours—suffocating and intoxicating all at once. Your breath was coming up in ragged gasps as you struggled against the tide of sensations that threatened to drown you. Like sandcastles against the tide, your resistance crumbled under the unrelenting force of his lips and touch. Your hands, grasping for purchase, clung to his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as you struggled to anchor yourself, as his tongue plundered your mouth with renewed vigor, claiming every inch, demanding your surrender, refusing to accept anything less.

As you softened under him, his hands glided along your sides, caressing every curve and dip with purposeful precision, setting every nerve alight, while making you feel every plane and contour of his chest and muscles. His taut muscles rippled beneath your touch, a testament to his restrained power. Lost in the tempest of sensations, you barely noticed his his hand creeping higher up your thigh, bunching your dress dangerously high. It was only then did you realised just how far things had escalated. Jerking back to reality, you wedged a hand against his chest, breaking the kiss, and grabbed for his wandering hand, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

But like a raging inferno, Sunghoon was unstoppable, his lips now trailing a scorching path down your neck, leaving a wake of fiery, open-mouthed kisses that seared your skin. "Sunghoon, stop," you gasped, panic lacing your voice as his hand pried yours away and pinned it painfully against the bed. You were utterly powerless then, your movements and strength futile against his onslaught.  For a terrifying moment, you thought he might sink his fangs into your neck, draining you of your lifesource, but instead, he continued to ravage you with his lips and hands—leaving marks and that burned and bruised. It was quickly dawning on you just how far gone Sunghoon was and the prospect of where it was heading terrified you more than getting bitten was. “Sunghoon, please—"  you begged, your voice breaking, and that seemed to have to snap him back to reality for his movements stilled, face hovering inches from yours. The look in his eyes was wild and uncertain, as if he was struggling to reign himself in from crossing a dangerous line.

"I- I’m sorry," he muttered, voice low and hoarse, tinged with something that almost sounded like guilt. He moved off you in one fluid motion, retreating like a shadow, his usual composure slowly slipping back into place. "I shouldn’t have—" He ran a hand through his hair, sighing heavily. "— just stay here for the night, okay? It’s safer. I’ll stay watch outside."

You remained frozen, your breathing uneven, your heart pounding in the deafening silence he left behind. The door clicked shut, but the echoes of his presence lingered, searing into you like a brand. Your bruised lips throbbed, the faint crescent-shaped imprints of his nails burned on your skin, and your neck felt alive with the memory of where his lips had lingered. Every mark he left wasn’t just a reminder of him—it was a reminder of what lay beneath the surface: a beast, barely leashed.

And yet, it wasn’t his loss of control that haunted you most. It was the way, in the charged stillness of the moment, you hadn’t fought him. You hadn’t turned away. Some part of you had yielded—not out of weakness, but out of something more dangerous.

The truth gripped you now, unrelenting: it wasn’t just Sunghoon you didn’t trust.

It was yourself.

— x

As foretold, the sun set the following day beneath a blood moon, casting an eerie reddish glow over the fourth evening, which was to be held in the Hall of Glory. As if mirroring your impending doom, the castle had been unnaturally still all day. The familiar footsteps of maids in the hall and the muted clink of silverware being set had disappeared, replaced by an oppressive, almost reverent silence. No maids brought breakfast to your door. No butlers appeared with fresh linens.

The absence wasn’t coincidence—it was tradition. You’d overheard whispers in the days before, half-muttered exchanges between the staff about “the sacred day” when they were to leave the castle as it would be reserved only for the “worthy.” You hadn’t understood the gravity of those words then, but now, under the ominous glow of the blood moon and the oppressive stillness of the castle’s grandeur, it felt like a prelude to slaughter. As if you’d stepped willingly into a gilded abattoir.

Unlike the vast, awe-inspiring spaces of the previous halls, the Hall of Glory was smaller, darker, and far more intimate, as though it were designed to suffocate rather than inspire. Towering columns stood sentinel around the circular chamber, their presence oppressive and unyielding. Between them loomed statues of tragedy: alabaster angels with torn wings, warriors collapsing under unseen burdens, veiled women weeping into gilded boxes clutched reverently in their hands. Each figure radiated its own unique agony, frozen mid-suffering, their despair immortalized in marble—a chilling homage to the 'glory' promised by the hall’s name.

At the center rose a massive stained-glass window, its grotesque designs seeming to shift under scrutiny. The blood moon’s crimson light spilled through, bleeding into the chamber and fracturing into jagged patterns across the polished floor, pooling like spilled wine—or something darker.

Then, as though drawn by the room’s gravity, the host appeared at the grand doorway, his jubilance a stark contrast to the oppressive room. “Welcome, my survivors!” he proclaimed, arms flung wide. “The best part of our tradition has finally arrived! As you can see, the hall is surrounded by statues. If they seem to call to you, perhaps they are. In fact,” he paused for emphasis, “at their base, you’ll find your names, and in their hands lie a gilded box where your prize awaits.”

You followed the rest as they hesitantly approached the statues. Yours, a marble depiction of a woman being hauled away by a man, felt like a cruel joke. A mocking reflection of your predicament, carved in cold, unfeeling stone. Your jaw tightened as you pried open the gilded box at its base, the air in the hall suddenly feeling heavier. Inside lay two pieces of burgundy parchment.

Suppressing the uneasy churn in your stomach, you picked up the closer parchment, revealing a name etched in elegant script: “Jaeyun.”

Nearby, a man’s voice rose, sharp with indignation. “A name?! What the hell are we supposed to do with a name?!”

The host’s laugh cut through the hall like a razor, too bright, too sharp, ricocheting off the oppressive walls. “Of course they’re names,” he drawled, his grin widening to something feral. “They’re the ones who will grant you eternal glory.”

The words settled over you like a vice, their meaning sinking deeper with each passing second. If this was the Reaping, then... The thought trailed off, unfinished but heavy, tugging your gaze upward instinctively where your eyes lock with Jaeyun who was perched casually at the triforium near the stained glass, as if he’d been waiting for you to look. Jaeyun leaned against the edge, his grin splitting his face like a sinister mask, hand lifting in a greeting in an almost maddeningly casual way like a predator toying with its prey. Mocking you without a word.

“—The Reaper," you finished your thought aloud, the title slipping from your lips as if it had been lurking there all along, waiting to be named.

Your throat tightened, but your hands remained steady as you reached for the second parchment. When you flipped it, the name seemed to glare back at you, heavier, crueler. You whispered it aloud, the word sharp on your tongue: “Sunghoon.”

Your gaze darted across the room, where Sunghoon stood at the opposite triforium from Jaeyun. His eyes found yours instantly, dark and inscrutable. No surprise. No panic. Not even a flicker of emotion. Just that infuriatingly calm, unbothered facade that made your skin crawl. Jaeyun’s taunting words from the library echoed in your mind: What if he’s saving you for himself?

“I can see some victors are rather popular this evening,” the host chimed, his clapping hands slicing through the suffocating tension. His smile stretched wider, dripping with theatrical delight. “But fret not! As tradition dictates, the popular ones will be granted five minutes with each of their suitors in this hall—for one final waltz. Serenade them, threaten them, confess your undying love—whatever suits your fancy. But remember—at the end, only one name must be chosen.”

A man nearby let out a hysterical laugh, his voice cracking as it spiralled into something desperate. “You’re insane—this is insane! I’m not doing this!” His words barely finished before he bolted for the door.

Not that he made it far.

In a blur of motion, one of the vampires materialized before him. The creature’s clawed hand plunged into his chest with a sickening crunch, emerging a moment later clutching his pulsating heart. The man crumpled, lifeless, as a fresh scream tore through the air from the woman beside you.

“And that,” the host exclaimed, his voice still so bright and cheerful, “is what becomes of the ungrateful.” He gestured theatrically to the room, as if he’d just delivered a perfectly rehearsed line in a play. “Come now, victors. Look alive. You’ve earned this. Eternal glory is yours to claim.”

Without waiting for a response, the orchestra struck a jarring chord, the music swelling into something both grand and ominous. Above, the vampires descended from their balconies like a wave of predators, their movements too fast to track. They poured into the hall with eerie precision, seizing their chosen humans without ceremony. The room erupted into chaos—screams, cries, and the sound of shattering glass blending into a cacophony that seemed to mock the elegant setting.

“And now the Waltz commences,” the host declared, his voice ringing with perverse joy.

You barely had time to react before strong hands wrapped around your waist, spinning you with a force that nearly knocked you off balance. “Jaeyun,” you said bitterly, as he grabbed your hand, the other already planted possessively on your waist.

“I told you so,” he drawled, his voice smooth but tinged with mockery. “Your savior is your undoing.”

“And you’re not?” you shot back, trying to pull away, but his grip only tightened as he began to move, forcing you into the dance. His movements were elegant yet aggressive, dragging you along like a puppet on strings.

“Can’t you see?  I’m the one saving you from him,” he scoffed, exasperated, “don’t tell me his sob story about the his family's sins and the Council of Elders is all it took to sway you—" he clicked his tongue as he spun you around before pulling you back against him, “Can’t you see the double entrende here? he’s not working under the Council of Elders to promote good. It’s completely self-serving – it grants him what is essentially a license to kill vampires. Less powerful purebloods mean fewer threats. It’s all about power, darling.”

You faltered for a moment, his words digging under your skin. “Even if that’s true,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady, “I’m still being passed from one wolf to another. You’re not exactly an ideal choice either…”

He spun you away from the center, the shadows engulfing you both, “tell you what, after this charade, they’ll give you a chance to escape through the Maze outside the castle. People would run aimlessly through the maze, thinking that it will eventually get them somewhere but it wont. The secret lies in the statues. Their hands are always pointing at the right way.”

You stared at him, trying to see past those unfathomable eyes. “Why are you telling me this? Why help me?”

He murmured, his lips ghosting dangerously close to your ear, “because we have the same goal, albeit in different forms, which is survival. And Sunghoon is the only one staying in our way. He’s playing the long game y/n. Look at him. Look at how he watches you—like a chess piece he hasn’t figured out how to move yet. You think he saved you? Sunghoon doesn’t save people. He removes and collects them, like a relic. That’s how it is with the royal Purebloods—it's always all about control and servitude. He’ll never let anyone be his equal.”

“Still, even if I choose you. It won’t guarantee my safety,” you said adamantly, “you could still end up reaping me.”

“And what for?” he said matter-of-factly, “My mother was reaped and I became a ‘tainted’ child in a world that worships purity. Can you see now? why I hate collateral damage?"

He paused, his gaze piercing. “And frankly, with what I hear about you and him… the Reaping might just be his way to stake his claim on you you—to make you his in every sense. Among other things.” His lips twisted into a bitter smirk. “Trust me, you’ll wish he’d killed you instead.”

You wanted to open your mouth, say something defiant, but nothing came. He pressed on, “I know you’re smart and rational so think of me as the lesser evil. I, at least, have no motive to want to reap you specifically and if you choose me at the end—I’ll really let you go because then I know that we are of the same understanding.”

Suddenly you feel his hand creep higher over your back, like a vine reclaiming its hold. His face was inches from yours, and for a fleeting moment, the interplay of shadow and light caught you off guard. Jaeyun’s usual devil-may-care grin—mischievous, boyish—seemed to warp under the flickering half-light. The shadows deepened the sharp angles of his cheekbones, the tilt of his lips more predator than prankster, as though the ease in his expression was a veneer stretched over something far more calculated. The light, faint and fleeting, only accentuated the unsettling duality—a face that could charm or terrify, depending on how you looked at it.

“If you choose Sunghoon however” his voice dipped lower, his head tilting so his breath brushed against your ear, “I’ll take it that you’re no different from him. And trust me—I won’t even let you get past any statues in the maze.”

You barely had the time to process the onslaught of words—teetering confusingly between helpful and threatening—when his hand cupped your face. Gentle yet deliberate, he tipped your chin ever so slightly toward him before pressing his lips languidly on your cheek—the kiss too slow, too deliberate to be mistaken for tenderness. No, it was a warning—a searing brand meant to remind you of the stakes.

He was like a thorny vine—subtle, insidious. The more you moved, the more you were pricked, and if you stayed still, it would creep over you, wrapping tighter until it claimed you entirely.

The heat lingered long after he pulled away, your skin prickling as though it carried the weight of his words. He loosened his grip just enough to spin you away, the force dismissive yet laced with an unsettling possessiveness.

The force sent you stumbling, disoriented, until strong arms caught you mid-motion, halting your fall. You looked up, your breath hitching as Sunghoon’s dark gaze locked onto yours. His presence was grounding, anchoring you in the chaos—but it was suffocating too, a storm restrained just beneath the surface, its weight pressing down on you.

“You look like you had an enjoyable time with the loach,” Sunghoon muttered, bitterness lacing every syllable. His grip tightened slightly on your waist, dragging you closer as the music swelled around you.

“And you look like you’re exactly where you should be,” you shot back, trying to twist out of his grip, “—the Reaping’s poster child. Is that why you saved me so far?” you pressed on, unable to conceal your own bitterness, “because you’re actually saving me for this.”

His grip tightened—not enough to hurt, but enough to keep you tethered to him. “Would you rather there only be a single name?” he asked coldly, his tone as biting as the frigid air between you. “His?”

“At least he’s honest, Sunghoon,” you snapped, your voice cracking under the weight of your frustration. “At least I know where I stand with him. You—” your hand pressed against his chest, a futile attempt to create space as he guided you into a sharp turn. “You twist everything until I don’t know what’s real anymore.”

“You don’t know what’s real?” His laugh was bitter, humorless, as he spun you again, this time keeping you so close you could feel the rise and fall of his chest against yours. “You poisoned me, y/n. You ran from me. You were the one who destroyed what was real.”

The pang of guilt that surged through you was like a knife, but you refused to let it show. “Oh, I see,” you said, mockery dripping from every word. “Killing two birds with one stone, are we? Reclaim your glory and punish me in one fell swoop. Immortality, bound to you for eternity—that’s the perfect revenge for me, isn’t it? You’ve outdone yourself, Park Sunghoon.”

His jaw tightened, his calm facade cracking just slightly. “You think this is about power?” he asked quietly, his voice simmering with frustration. “I’ve lived for centuries and gone through several wars. If I cared about reclaiming anything, I would have done it long ago.”

“So this is about us, is it?” you pressed, your voice trembling with both anger and something rawer. “Punishing me for what I did eight years ago? You knew the Reaping would break me irreparably more than killing me ever could. That’s why you kept me alive—so you could tether me to you, curse me with eternity, all under your control.”

 “You think I want you bound to me just to feed some twisted sense of power?” he scoffed, the bitterness in his tone cutting sharper than any blade. “God, y/n, this isn’t about control.”

“Then what is it about?” you demanded. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks a hell of a lot like revenge. A power play.”

His jaw clenched, the restraint in his expression cracking further as he took another step toward you. “You think I want revenge? That I want to punish you?” he snapped, his voice rising. “Can’t you see that it’s you that I want?” his voice cracking, “I can’t afford to lose you. Not to him, not to anyone. I’d tear this place apart before I let him have you.”

“I am not yours,” you said bitterly, the words like venom on your tongue. “And you don’t get to play saviour by making me your captive.”

“Captive?” he echoed, the hint of hurt in his voice was subtle but evident. “Sure. Paint me as the villain then—that’s easier, isn’t it? Easier than admitting you’re the one who’s afraid.”

“Afraid?” you scoffed, though the tremor in your voice betrayed you. “Of you?”

“No,” he said sharply, his gaze piercing through you. “Afraid of what you feel. Of what you felt back then, and what you still feel now.”

You flinched as if his words had physically struck you, the momentary crack in your resolve giving him an opening. He stepped closer, his movements calculated as he swept you into a slow, deliberate turn, each step forcing you to follow, leaving you breathless and off balance. “Because if you were really sure,” he murmured, his voice dropping dangerously low, “you wouldn’t need to convince yourself I’m the villain. You wouldn’t be standing here, accusing me of using you, when the truth is you’re just looking for a reason to run.”

Your laugh was hollow, brittle. “You think I’d run from you?”

“I think you’ve been running since the moment we met,” he said simply, his voice cutting through your bravado like a blade. “And I think you’ll keep running until you admit why you poisoned me in the first place.”

He spun you again, his movements sharp and unrelenting, before pulling you back into him, his voice soft but no less cutting. “You knew what we were, what we could’ve been—and you destroyed it. You burned it all to the ground before it could burn you.”

Your fingers curled against his shoulder, nails lightly digging into the fabric, your voice cracking as you hissed, “What you felt for me is not love, Sunghoon. It’s control wrapped in obsession; possession, dressed up as affection.”

He swallowed thickly, and for a moment, you couldn’t tell why—was it because he had called you out, or because your words had cut too deep? The silence between you seemed to stretch, taut and unyielding. His jaw tightened, his gaze darkening, and when he finally spoke, his voice was quieter, sharper, cutting through the air like frost.

“Maybe it is,” he murmured, each word deliberate, his brows furrowing as a glint flashed in his eyes—something cold, something you’d never seen before. “Maybe that’s all I am now.” The faint curve of his lips followed, but it wasn’t a smile—it was bitterness made flesh, a weapon unsheathed.

“Fine, y/n.” His voice dropped lower, darker, as though he were sealing a pact. “I’ll be the villain you so desperately need me to be.”

Before you could respond, he stepped closer, manoeuvring you sharply across the hall. The motion was unrelenting, his grip tightening with a force that felt like it could crush you if he chose. His movements were forceful, almost punishing, the elegance of the waltz tainted by the sheer rawness of his frustration.

“I’ll selfishly take back what you tore from me—what you tore from us—eight years ago,” he continued, his voice low and cutting, each word laced with an accusation that burned. His fingers moved with a slithery precision, curling with just enough force to press you against him, like a marionette in his grasp. His arm, firm and unrelenting, coiled around you like a serpent, each step tethering you closer, suffocating you with its possessiveness.

The curve of his palm seemed to mold perfectly to your body, a gesture that felt both possessive and unnervingly intimate. When he spun you, his hand didn’t falter—it followed the contours of your frame, reclaiming its position with a fluidity that felt inevitable, like gravity itself had shifted in his favour. His grip tightened subtly, fingers splaying just enough to press into the delicate fabric of your gown, branding you in a way that felt both commanding and terrifyingly intimate.

“You tore us apart,” he murmured, his voice dropping into something darker, heavier, as though he was drawing from a well of buried pain. His face hovered inches from yours, his breath searing against your skin. “This time, I’ll make sure you can’t end anything. Because if I can’t have you, no one can.”

The finality in his words hit you like a physical blow, leaving you frozen as he guided you through another step, his movements precise yet devoid of tenderness. The music surged around you, its crescendo mimicking the storm of emotions churning in the air.

And then, as the final note reverberated through the hall, Sunghoon stepped back. His retreat was slow, deliberate, each step like a crumbling facade. His dark eyes burned with an intensity you’d never seen before, emotions swirling just beneath the surface—anger, pain, longing, and something far darker. You couldn’t bring yourself to move, trapped in the gravity of what had just passed between you.

“Now, now,” the host’s voice shattered the silence like breaking glass, his cheerful tone jarring against the tension that lingered in the air. “You know the rules,” he announced, his grin sharp. “Burn the name of the rejected and put the chosen name in the gilded chest.”

Your gaze dropped to the two burgundy parchments in your hand. Slowly, deliberately, you picked up the one with Jaeyun’s name, placing it inside the chest that was meant for the chosen one. The soft click of the lid sealed your choice, a decision made for all to see.

Your gaze instinctively sought Sunghoon in the crowd. His eyes locked with yours for a fleeting second, and in that moment, something flickered across his face—fury, yes, but beneath it, a flash of raw hurt that cut deeper than any words. Then he turned sharply, vanishing into the sea of bodies.

What he didn’t see, what no one would ever see, was how you never burnt the name you rejected—Sunghoon's. You couldn’t.

Instead you folded the parchment with painstaking care, tucking it into the lining of your dress, just over your heart. As though it carried every unspoken word between you.

As if it meant more than you dared to admit.

A/N: No this isn't the end HAHAHAHA told you it was a 40k work so it's actually supposed to be longer but bloody hell apparently tumblr has a 1000 blocks per post limit and it exceeded. So I gotta chop it here. See you in the next one ((i might post it immediately after, or space it out hohoh so let me know what you think about this one)) !

Taglist: @axartia | @my5colours | @elinushka-ka | @nowjillsandwich | @leaderwon | @moniqueovermoney | @ashrocker123 | @seungkwan-s | @hydroyaksha | @ikayyyyyy | @capri-cuntz| @asyleums | @lovialy | @nikikookie | @lunateez | @reithecat | @hocestmundi | tagging those who have explicitly wanted to be tagged eheh apologies if I missed some out :(

The hypocrisy and double standards are absolutely astounding.

Drivers trying to use their voice and platform to make a genuine difference in the lives of marginalised peoples and communities and for the greater good of society and humanity?? Not allowed

FIA president making an overtly political statement by congratulating a corrupt, racist, sexist, convicted sexual abuser and felon on his electoral victory?? Sure go right ahead

► TEMPESTUOUS DESIRES [Jake.]

Abstract: For a messenger of love who effortlessly intertwines hearts, Jake himself remains untouched by the desires he kindles. This wasn’t a problem until he met you. Being disinterested in love and somehow always able to evade his shots, you soon became the object of his fixation but those very pure intentions to find you a good match soon gave way to obsession and temptations. As his golden arrows can’t be used to bewitch you to him, he ended up delving further into darkness where the lines between love and obsessions becomes blurred, corrupted by the insatiable need to own and possess you for himself. As he spirals down this treacherous path, he becomes entangled in a web of deception and manipulation, forsaking his once noble purpose.

Genre: fantasy | forbidden romance | supernatural | mythology | wc: 13k

a/n: inspired by New Jeans “Cool With You”. This has been marinating in the drafts for who-knows-how-long now. My brain can't shut up so here it is finally. Hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoy writing it. Do leave me some feedbacks or comments, it keeps me from sliding back to hiatus and descend down the writer's block hellhole lol.

© 2024 interlunium-opus. All rights reserved. Do not plagiarize, post or translate anywhere.

— i.

Figuratively and literally, Jake leaves trail of attraction and desire in his wake. As a messenger of love with unparalleled mental acuity and formidable archery skills, every arrow he draws from his quiver meet its target with unerring accuracy, ensnaring the unsuspecting victim with someone who is best matched, trapping them in a web of attraction and desires that would last the test of time. But it is not just his archery that captivates; Jake's ethereal presence, striking good looks, and flirtatious nature are a force of nature in their own right — captivating both humans and non-humans, leaving trails of attractions, desires and temptations in his wake.

He would have made the perfect Messenger of Love — one who is poised to go down in history. After all, the prevailing modern mindset which glorifies individualism and instant gratification has put lasting love in the backseat, making the job harder for the other Messengers of Love who could only strike attraction and lusts that lasts for one night. Hence, with every union that Jake successfully brought, he had become somewhat of a legend — someone with an innate, perhaps unlearnable, understanding of what makes love lasts.

Except, the truth is not as rosy. 

While beings like him are capable of feeling the emotions and desires that humans feel, Jake himself remains untouched by the all-consuming desires he sparks in others. His mental acuity helped him understood the mechanics of love — an intricate dance of personalities and the delicate balance of emotions — but the feeling itself eludes him. While he used to see it as a flaw when he was young, he now understood that it was this very detachment that grants him an edge in the field. Unburdened by personal biases or the clouding of intense emotions, Jake is able to navigate around with a clear and calculated mindset that allows him to dissect the intricacies of human nature, identifying the traits and compatibilities that foster enduring connections. 

Such mental acumen however, while providing him with a detached understanding, fails to bridge the gap between intellectual knowledge and the visceral experience of love’s consuming fire. In fact, despite all the flirtatious banter, sweet nothings and passionate touches he is capable of engaging and eliciting — his feelings remain only surface deep, that of attraction and lust which dissipates as soon as his conquests are bedded.

Perhaps it is exactly this lack of attachment that fuels his libertine tendencies — one that has been increasingly trangressed boundaries as he sought to not just bed his own kind but also humans, despite such liaisons being frowned upon. Perhaps the excitement and thrill of forbidden liasons is what he revelled in or perhaps, without him realising, he was seeking to fill in the void within himself which grows with each connection he forged.

Regardless. Tonight, was one of those days.

Assuming his human form — which is similar to his usual form except for the lip ring, gigantic wings and laurel wreath — he crashed into an after-party of a prestigious award ceremony, eyes immediately set on the apple of everyone’s eyes: the current IT girl of the industry whose looks could rival those from his realm. She was like a vision of ethereal beauty. Her doe-like eyes were large and expressive, capable of softening the hardest of hearts; her lips was full and luscious — both innocent and tantalizing — inviting unspoken desires; her slender frame, with its graceful lines and subtle curves, captured the essence of feminity, evoking not just attraction but a sense of protectiveness.

Jake smirked as his mind parsed her life history and pieced out the kind of person she was, finding his competitiveness instantly triggered the moment he learned of her iron-clad discipline and control when it comes to romance. As a young woman in a competitive industry that is still plagued with double standards against women, she knew her success stands at a precipice so despite all the love interests showered towards her over the years – she managed to stave them off, no matter how tempting. She had it all under control and she was poised for greater things given her diligence and discipline. 

But then she met Jake’s eyes and for the first time in her life, she felt her guards threatening to crack especially at the weight of Jake’s unflinching and seductive gaze throughout the night. Jake didn’t even need his poisoned arrows for he, himself, was almost like the poison that is laced over his arrow tips — the very object of desire for almost anyone he decides to charm. 

The next thing you knew, they were already locking lips in the hallway, the act of which quickly escalated as they moved to the van, hands absolutely glued to one another, roaming freely and wildly, before it all culminated in throes of passion that lasted for hours on her bed — a place she vowed never to bring a man over. Like the torn designers over the floor, all traces of controlled perfection she had masterfully maintained over the years crumbled under the weight of Jake’s intoxicating touch and seductive sweet-nothings. She was absolutely moonstruck and Jake did not even need his arrows for it.  

“You’re going to have to call in sick tomorrow if this goes on-” Jake mumbled in between the soft kisses that he trails down her neck as she whimpered his name again and again, delirious in pleasure while begging him not to ever let go, promising him absolutely everything — from her money to her career.

“Look at the industry sweetheart,” Jake cooed, eyes adoring what he had made out of her: a whimpering and clingy mess that is completely seized in desires and lust, “what would they say if they see you like this?”

She shook her head, breathing ragged from the umpteenth high she had raked with Jake, before pulling him into a hungry and messy kiss. “Love,” Jake mumbled in between kisses, saliva stretching between their lips, “you’re tired. It’s time to go to sleep.”

“You’re not going to leave me right?” she stared at him all bleary-eyed. Jake simply smiled, rubbing her cheeks softly as she tried hard to keep her lids open against the enchantments that Jake had justwhispered into her system, “this is all just a dream.”

And just like that, he would become a mere figment of a dream for her — just like all the other human he had bedded before. Sure, it was hypocritical of him to play around with them like that but he always reassured himself sickeningly that he wasn’t doing any harm by doing so. If anything he just gave yet another human a good time — a time they would never find in the touch of any other human. He also induced partial amnesia in them so that they would not go insane from longing for him. It’s a win-win, Jake thought to himself, smirking, as he pulled his suit over, fixing the placement of his lip ring with a flick of his tongue.

As he climbed out of the window ledge however, he heard the familiar sound of wings fluttering.

“Sooner or later, they’re going to catch on Jake.” Jake knew who it was immediately.

“Stalking me isn’t going to rake you scores Sunoo,” Jake scoffed as he turned around, meeting the eyes of the pale messenger who used to be his deskmate during his training days, “you’d be better off striking hearts instead. Your scores last quarter is dangerously low – you know you’d get demoted if you keep at it right?”

Sunoo swallowed thickly, “I can’t help it, love doesn’t last that long anymore these days. I can’t strike their hearts to one another knowing that it will only end in heartbreak.”

“That is exactly your flaw. You care far too much,” Jake sighed, “Come on, our threshold for successful matches is only in love that lasts for 5 years. Just keep that as a goal — ignore what happens within and beyond and you’re on your way to glory.”

“Not all relationship that lasts 5 years is love,” Sunoo’s voice hardened, eyes quivering as if trying to not believe the words that came out of Jake.

“Does it matter?” Jake shrugged, “love takes various forms. Innocent, tempestuous, scandalous, obsessive, toxic. Whatever happens, heartbreaks are part and parcel of life isn’t it? If it’s too much, we can always mend their heart by latching them onto another which then counts into our tallies and-“

“They’re not mere scores Jake. Hearts can break irreparably,” Sunoo interjected, brows twitching in what looked like a mixture of disbelief and disappointment, “you’ve changed.”

“As if you haven’t,” Jake winked as he slipped off the windowsill, his large wings fluttering open, keeping him afloat, “I know you’ve ventured down the Abyss to procure certain spells to alter your scores every quarter Sunoo,” Jake smirked, feeling triumphant at the hint of guilt evident on Sunoo’s gaze, “you’re not anymore moral nor ethical as I am. It's okay, we all got our vices. Just keep out of my affairs Sunoo and we’re cool.”

And just like that he disappeared, feeling re-energised from his night-long endeavour. In fact, he raked more scores than normal that day — the success of which was also aided by the fact that it was the first sunny day after weeks of torrential rain, bringing more people out and about, all in their Sunday best and in the brightest of moods, making it easier for his poisoned arrows to work its magic.

That was probably why you stuck out like a sore thumb to him when he was lingering at the traffic intersection for in the midst of people in bright and colourful get-up, with a delightful expression to match, you were decked in monochrome, with expressions so somber and eyes on your phone screen. When you finally looked up, your face contorted into a grimace, absolutely disgusted by the couple who was kissing in front of you.

The so-called Love cynics, Jake remembered a lesson back then, someone who is aversed to love. Could be Asexual, could be a product of trauma, could be just hardened by age and cynical outlook. They will be the hardest to bend but the biggest of catches. Jake’s hand was already reaching for another arrow in his quiver, his mind working hard in analysing your personality and trying to match it with dozen of other men within the vicinity — the perfect match of which he found in no time at the PhD student just across with whom you could share your intellectual interests with and with whom your more rational and logical tendencies could live in harmony with.

“Perfect,” Jake thought to himself as he directed his arrow in your direction, the strings taut in his fingers. Just 2 seconds after the light had turned green, Jake let his arrow go. That was an easy kill, Jake smirked triumphantly, confident that his calculations on timing, distance and strength, would have struck you precisely when the other guy would have come into your direct line of sight.

But then you suddenly ducked and all hell breaks loose for not only had Jake missed but his arrow struck the worst of targets: an expecting mother and, just across, a man who was on his way to his own wedding. It was a potential multiple breach of ethics that would have summoned him right to the Court Office.

“Fuck,” Jake cussed, blazing past the throng of crowd, scrambling for a lead-tipped arrow that is meant to reverse his magic, and stabbing it onto the woman just seconds away before she lurched towards the man.

“Can I help you?” the man asked, puzzled, as the lady who had stopped right in front of him with arms outstretched paused, looking dazed, before apologising. Jake exhaled sharply at the close call. Brushing his hair back in annoyance, he looked around, eyes frantically scanning for the you - the troublemaker - though by then you were long gone, swallowed by the bustling crowd.

“That’s a bit annoying,” Jake grumbled, shooting another arrow at someone else whom he quickly found a match for on the other side of the road. That union, he projected, would last at least 9 years but even that couldn’t quell the distaste he felt in his mouth after his near-miss – the distaste of which lasted almost all day despite the successes he raked.

And so that night, he stayed back in the human world during forbidden hours, finding you very easily through his network of friends. While you weren’t his first miss, you somehow continued to linger at the back of his mind, haunting him all day.

Sitting by your windowsill, he observed your every move as if you were a specimen to behold. He watched you get so engrossed in your report; watched you get annoyed by how your regressions didn’t come out the way you expected; watched in amusement at the way you’d accidentally dozed off, only to spring back to typing when you jolted awake.

“What are you so engrossed in?” Jake wondered out load as he floated inside, peeking over your shoulders, “Aww,” he cooed, “look at you, burning the midnight oil to finish up a policy paper to save the poor,” he sat onto the empty space on your table, next to your screen, “but who’s going to save you, you miserable poor loveless thing.”

“I could I guess,” he brought his knees up, hugging it close to his chest, “I do love a challenge,” he mumbled, chin resting on his knee as he watched you with a specific glint in his eyes, “I’ll make your first your last, how’s that?” 

It shouldn’t be hard, he thought, after all, there are 8 billion of people in this world. There are already about a hundred in your apartment building and a couple of hundreds more in your office block, and a couple hundred thousands more between your journeys. The probability is enormous, the possibility is endless, he smirked to himself as he lowered his face towards you, leaning in so as to whisper something in your ear, “you’ll thank me.”

Such optimism and excitement however quickly dissipated in the span of a few days as you somehow magically always evaded his golden arrows in time, causing him to have to use his expensive and hard-acquired lead-tipped arrows to reverse most of the effects. 

“You can’t see me right?” Jake floated in front of you, waving his hand maniacally before inching his face so close towards you as if trying to confirm whether or not you had a built-in radar for him.

As he parsed your history more, it became clearer just how difficult it would be to match you with anyone. Not only was your interest in a getting a partner or dating almost nil but you minimise any opportunities to find one as well: not engaging in social niceties beyond necessary; being oblivious to any interests towards your way; distancing yourself when you detect any hint of interest; and the list goes on. Indeed a ‘Love Cynic’ to the T.

The thing about hardened love cynics is that, while they are the biggest catch, they could also be your biggest downfall if you fail. This is because love cynics, once heartbroken, would feel despair and anguish like none other which just serves to fuel their skepticism and opposition to love afterwards – the result of which would burn holes in the records of any messengers who was in charge of them. Hence, they are always avoided especially by the average messengers.

But then again, Jake was not just your average messenger. He was amongst the best, rivalling some of his predecessors even with some scores made in turning love cynics around. So it was not all surprising just how obsessed he was with getting you a match.

One day, an opportunity came in a silver platter for him as the elevator you guys were in opened to a lad from IT, whose attraction for you was very evident from the way his face lit up, “y/n, it’s a been a while!”

“Well would you look at that,” Jake sung as he pulled an arrow from his quiver, grinning triumphantly. Jake did not even need to parse his mind to see the interest he had for you as it drips from his gaze to his voice. But as he looked back at you, who had shot the other guy the briefest of smile before whipping your phone up to mindlessly scroll your email, Jake’s grin immediately faltered. “You are seriously helpless y/n,” Jake sighed, looking almost as if he was in a trance as he inched closer, pressing the golden-tipped arrow against your back – the puncture of which would have struck your right through your heart, “your attitude needs fixing y/n or else you’ll never find someone—”

Jake was really just 3 seconds away from puncturing you when you recoiled. He initially thought you might have somehow felt the sharpness of his arrow but turned out the guy’s hand was just trailing languidly down your arm.

“Are you still angry about last time?” the man scoffed, the seemingly-warm smile fading almost immediately, “I told you last time, that night was a mistake. I was drunk and I tried to kiss you. That was it. I didnt even managed to do it since-“

“I don’t care about your reasons, you crossed the line,” you replied curtly, “and right now you are one step away from crossing another line. Remember what HR said last time? The next time it happens, they’re just one visit away and you’d immediately be out of the Ministry.”

His lips contorted into a wry grin, the annoyance becoming evident in his voice and face, “you must feel all high and mighty just because you’re in a more superior position than me,” he inched closer, looming ominously, “do you really want to know what true assaults are like-“

Almost too calmly, you hit one of the elevator buttons, its door opening just 3 floors before your destination as you turned your phone towards him, the screen showing a recording in progress, “show your face to me once again and this recording will get sent straight to a public forum. You won’t just be laid off here but this would burn holes in your record making it hard for you to find a new job.”

The man backed away finally, looking every bit flustered, “no wonder you’re still single, you’re a fucking witch-“

“And you’re just one fucking phone call away from being hauled off,” you interjected as you stepped out of the elevator despite it being 3 floor away from your destination. You hear him mutter curses loudly as you walked away. 

Jake was still open-mouthed as he trailed behind you, “that was,” he caught up, hands clapping, “pretty badass. I really thought I needed to step in for a second there but you,” he slipped through the closing door of the emergency staircase which you had just opened, “you were fearless. You were-“ he stopped short as he watched you stood immobile as soon as you entered the emergency stairwell. As if losing the strength in your knees, you leaned weakly against the door, head bowed down.  

Jake watched in confusion as you slid down, your breathing growing rapid, chest heaving, hands trembling as you muttered through gritted teeth, “get it together, y/n. It’s nothing.”

Jake knelt next to you, his mind delving into a specific parcel of memory from the night when you first met the guy earlier — the night when, under the pretense of drunkenness, had tried to corner you into an empty meeting room and tried to kiss you. “Shit,” Jake finally said, brows furrowing in a mixture of concern and guilt. Just moments ago, his competitiveness could have gotten you ensnared with the guy who almost assaulted you — the guy who had caused so much terror in you.

“I’m sorry,” he scooted closer now, feeling guilty. Now Jake may not be a saint nor would he call himself virtuous by any means but he was no devil either. As much as you grinds his gears with your aromantic and callous ways he would never match you with someone like that. 

He sunk beside you, forlorn, his hands ghosting your shoulders. He wanted to apologise but it's not like you could hear him anyway. He wanted to comfort you but his hands would just go through you. He felt oddly powerless. So instead, he stayed next to you in silence, straining his muscles so that his arms just ghost around your shoulders. When you finally calmed down, you leaned back against the door, exhaling sharply. 

Jake watched you intently, his gaze softening. “You know what,” he muttered quietly, “I’ll find you a really good guy — someone who will give you the world. Give you everything.”

For the first time in a while he didn’t see a mere tally to be crossed off the list. Instead he saw a person — a person who deserved the best and most purest form of love he was capable of finding. He rose up, his body curling over your back, leaning down to whisper a promise in your ear, “I give you my word.”

— ii.

Days turned to months and still Jake Sim could not find a match for you. Except this time, the fault lay mostly in him for he could not find anyone good enough for you. They are always lacking or excessive in something and he didn’t want to risk it falling apart. 

Not for you at least. 

And so in between entwining others’ hearts, he would linger around you, following you closely wherever you go, whatever you do. Like a specimen to behold, he watches your every movement and ponder over it up to the point that he remembers your habits and quirks like the back of his hand: how you like your coffee; how salty you like your food to be; the detours you take; your music tastes; the changes in your jogging routes; when you will get cold; when you’d start getting bored of something; and so on.

Eventually, it all fell into a routine. As you settle into your home, he settles with you – as if he belonged there. As you try things out and push boundaries, Jake was also always around, cheering you on – as if his morale support counts. As you considered your choices such as during shopping or working, Jake would share his thoughts and opinions about it to you as well – as if you could even hear him. 

Soon he begun to fill in the silences with you, telling you of his day; the matches he made; the realm he is from; his past and so on – venting on and on, as if you could hear him. 

And whenever you retire to bed at night, he no longer takes it as his cue to return to his realm. Instead he settled right next to you — watching you over like a Guardian Angel.

At least that’s what he deluded himself of until his eyes begun to wander farther each nights, pulling his mind deeper into the recesses of which he never ventured to before with you. It started slow, from eyes wandering, tracing the outlines of your face and body; to gaze lingering at your lips and your exposed skin, heartbeat racing as he wondered how they would feel under his. Soon he would find his hands balling into fists, fighting an invisible battle between desire and duty. Still he could never tear his gaze away from you.

The true test however came one night when you suddenly rolled over to his side, your face perfectly aligned with the crook of his neck and your hand perfectly landing to where his hand was. While this was nothing major compared to whatever he had gotten up to in the sheets, it sent his heart racing like none other. Almost automatically, he brought his hand up to your face, ghosting the outlines of your jaw, pausing by your chin as his gaze become fixated on your lips which was plush and parted slightly — so innocent yet so tantalizing and inviting. 

Desires begin to muddle his mind, self-control cascading as he transformed himself to his human form. The space he occupied sinking instantly with his weight, causing you to stir in your sleep. Alarmed, Jake immediately hovered over you, his hand gently covering your eyes as he whispered words laced with enchantments in your ears, “it’s all just a dream love.”

He slowly slid his hand down your face, thumbs caressing your cheek softly as he watched how your brows furrow as your instinct and will to wake up warred with his enchantments. Jake leaned down, planting soft kisses on your neck, “go back to sleep.”

Finally you eased up, gradually laying limp in his embrace. Jake smiled softly at the sight, that was close. He should have pulled away then but as if there was a magnetic pull, Jake could not tear himself from you nor did he want to. As if his senses were on overdrive, he could feel everything amplified. The way your body was perfectly dwarfed under his larger frame was evoking something primal and protective within him. The warmth emanating from your body was warming his own, enveloping him, making his skin tingle in anticipation. The scent of your hair and the lingering fragrance of your soap — a mélange of florals and greens — enticing him, intoxicating him to draw closer.  

His fingers begin to trail down, tracing patterns along your jaw, down your neck, to your collarbones. Your skin was soft and smooth and he marvelled at the sensation of it all against his fingertips. Every touch sent jolts of electricity through his body, igniting a fire within him that threatened to consume him whole.

Eventually his eyes returned back to your lips — these damned lips, he thought as the pad of his thumb brush softly over your lower lip, watching the soft flesh softening and bending under the subtle pressure of his fingertips before springing back to its plush and supple form, plunging his mind to treacherous depths where he envisions that it was his lips doing the undoing, mouth devouring yours, tasting the sweetness that he knew could be savoured on his tongue.

That was when something snapped and the next thing he knew, he had lowered his mouth to yours, gently pressing his lips against yours, intoxicated by the softness of your lips and the warmth which was enveloping him whole.

That should have been it. He should have pulled away then. After all, he just wanted a taste. But the more tasted, the more he craved and soon he found himself claiming your lips in a fierce, hungry kiss. As your lips parted under his insistence, his tongue plunged deep inside your mouth, as if seeking to devour you whole. You tasted like honey and sin and Jake just couldn’t get enough, yearning for more.

Desperate for more contact, his hand was already gripping your clothes, tugging it down, resulting in a slight tear – the sound of which knocked him back to his senses. He pulled away, breathing ragged, startled by the state he had reduced you to. Your hair was slightly disheveled, lips swollen, and shirt hung loosely off one shoulder, exposing a bruise that was blooming on your collarbone – physical manifestations of the intensity of his desires. Guilt seized him as he realised the extent of his actions and almost immediately, he backed away from you, recognising the depths of depravity he was capable of reaching. With self-control hanging by a thread, he knew he would lose all forms of control if he stayed any longer so with a heavy heart and mind still reeling from conflicting emotions, Jake teleported himself back to his realm.

You jolted awake not long after, your heart pounding in your chest as you sat up in alarm. It must have been another nightmare, you thought, trying to shake off the lingering sensations of paralysis that still clung to your body. With a dismissive shake of your head, you laid back down, your lips feeling strangely sore and dry. As you licked your lips, your eyes flickered open, tasting something metallic on your tongue. Curious, you brought your fingers to your lips, probing the spot that throbbed. To your surprise, your fingers came away smeared with blood.

— iii.

Back in his realm, Jake wasted no time in seducing a couple of others, spending the rest of the night in a blur of ecstasy in a bid to distract and numb himself with pleasures. Perhaps, the temporary pause in his libertine pursuits had led such desires to fester dangerously, he thought.

Except when he woke up the next day, you still bore at the back of his mind. Almost as if scalded, he could still feel the warmth of your skin in his hand, the softness of your lips on his lips. Worse, he yearns for it – yearns to feel more.

Something was going wrong, he thought to himself as he lingered around the market just outside of the apartment where he had spent the night at. Eager and desperate for a distraction he wandered further, letting himself be lost in the hustle and bustle of the morning crowd, looking aimlessly at the selection of fruits and flowers being sold.

As he passed by one of the exits however, he caught a glimpse of an archway materializing at a desolated corner, dark and thorny vines crawling out from within as if calling him. He had passed by this corner of the street a billion times before but he swore he had never seen the archway.

He called upon one of the boys playing nearby, “Hey, is that like the entrance to a new market or something?”

The boy squinted to where he was pointing but only looked back at Jake weirdly, “what do you mean? What archway? It’s just the unsightly brick wall-“

“There,” Jake pointed again, adamant, “the alley-“

“Sir, you’re either trying to scare me or you need your eyes checked because I’m seeing nothing but a dead-end,” the boy grimaced, shaking his head as he rejoined his friends in the crowd.

“What an insolent bast-“ he stopped short, looking back at the alley, the vines getting longer and longer. He suddenly realised what it was and why no one was seeing it. The Abyss, he muttered to himself, recalling all the tales he was told during his schooling years about a portal to another dimension – a dimension that is akin to a black market, having absolutely anything one could ever desire especially the most forbidden and illicit of desires. Hence why entering the realm has been forbidden, especially to those like Jake who hold official positions and is considered amongst the most noble and elite of beings.

But curiosity got the best of him. After all, the Abyss cannot be sought for it seeks on its own instead. In fact, rumours has it that only those with dark desires could open up the portal and Jake was confident that he had none of that. After all, he has absolutely everything anyone covets: good looks; wealth; reputation and glory. If he wanted he could get promoted; get the hottest girl in town; get the most lavish manor in the realm; and so on. Feeling haughty, Jake pulled his cloak over his head, slipping past the crowd towards the archway, "let's see what you think you can offer me then."

To Jake's disappointment, nothing had materialised so far no matter how deep he ventured. It was just an misty alley with faint cacophony of noises like murmurs, bells, and chatters. Jake scoffed, see, he thought to himself, no dark desires.

When he turned around to go back however, his grin faltered as the alley now disappeared, replaced by a literal abyss.

“Everyone has dark desires young man.”

Jake jumped, startled. Behind him was an decrepit old man, face hardened with wrinkles, “you’re not the only Elite who has walked these paths,” he grinned lopsidedly, “I can assure you they all thought the same way you did. Head held high, face grimacing in contempt as if they had just walked into muck. But in the end, they were always the ones who went so far as to trade their powers and long life – always the one ended up becoming the most wicked. Exactly the ones tragedies are made about.”

Jake swallowed thickly. He can see shadows forming behind the man, making the outlines of a mass of people congregating as if he was an exhibit. The muffled sounds now growing louder – almost like a bedlam. “Nothing is materializing though,” Jake managed, trying to cover the fear that was brewing within.

“Young man,” the elderly scoffed, “you being able to open up the Abyss alone is a feat no ordinary goodie can do.”

Suddenly a gust of wind hit him, causing Jake to cover his face with his cloak. By the time he pulled his hand away, he was back in the market – right where the arch was – except this time, there was no arch. Like the boy from earlier said, it was a dead end. There was a sudden ringing in his ear, causing him to double down, before everything quietened almost too deafeningly.

Come again once you know what is it that your heart truly desires boy.

Jake spun around, alert. But the old man was nowhere to be found.

— iv.

Troubled and unsettled, Jake went back to the human realm to find you. You had, after all, became his own little solace – like a home to return to. Even if you couldn’t see, hear nor feel him — all he needed was you close by. 

Except just when he needed you the most, he couldn’t find you. You weren’t anywhere you were supposed to be nor anywhere you could be. This would not have alarmed him so had he not also been able to sense you.

Fuck, he panicked, wings almost set ablaze as he rushed from one place to another at impossible speed. There could only be one reason as to why he could not sense someone he had 'targeted': the target had been struck by others.

“No no no no no,” he muttered in disbelief, chest heaving in panic. Jake never lose control nor composure but right now, he was spiralling. Gone was his pride by the time he appeared by Sunoo’s doorstep, dishevelled and manic, spitting out his version of events.

“You weren’t supposed to go down the Abyss!” Sunoo chastised him the moment Jake told him about it, “you know just venturing there robs you of your power – albeit momentarily.”

“Is that what this is?” Jake paced back and forth, “must be right? that I can't sense her simply because of whatever curse the Abyss had put on me?” He grasped Sunoo by the shoulders, eyes wild with fear, “–not because she has been struck?”

“Jake–“ Sunoo croaked, caught off guard by Jake’s sudden outburst and outpour of emotions, “–just, please calm down first. Since everything seems fine to you, it’s possible your loss of detection is the momentary punishment for going down the Abyss but... we can’t also be sure that she has not been struck yet.”

Jake knows that very well. Except, he didn’t expect that the loss would have impacted him this greatly. It was true what they say then. That the Abyss is so wretched and cursed, just venturing down will rob you of something that is very valuable to you. He never considered it before, thinking that losing his ability momentarily would probably do him good – giving him the respite he so badly needed after working so hard. Little did he know, it struck him exactly where it hurts.

“When will it come back?”

“If it’s your first time down there, probably a night. But the more you go, the longer the effects last,” Sunoo sighed, “Just wait until tomor-“

“I can’t fucking wait until tomorrow,” Jake bellowed, infuriated, before sinking onto a nearby couch, head buried in his hands as he tried to calm himself down. Sunoo sighed. It was the first time he saw Jake so wrecked, it almost pained him. "The Royal Scotts Rooftop," Sunoo muttered quietly, guilt evident in his voice, "I followed the girl earlier, hoping to find you. When you weren't around, I thought maybe you've lost interest- that'd be good-" he paused, "but I guess, you've never lost it."

Jake rose up immediately, he wanted to berate Sunoo for not telling him sooner but at that time nothing could top his desire and urgency to find you so before Sunoo could even finish, Jake had taken off.

— v.

Despite the sea of people on the rooftop of the 5-Star hotel, he could immediately spot you.

His face immediately lit up, materializing behind you within seconds. “I’ve searched everywhere for you,” he sighed, gaze softening, before suddenly feeling a hand go through him towards you. He turned around, seeing that the hand belonged to a well-dressed man with ‘Jay’ on his name tag – a consultant from another company who had worked with you on a project a year ago, “the confettis,” Jay mumbled, inching unnecessarily close – at least by Jake’s standards – towards you to try and ruffle some from your hair.

“Oh thanks,” you reached over to your hair, trying to take them out yourself, before breaking into laughter over the fact that Jay had a lot of glitter in his, “dude – you’re worse-“

Within seconds Jake had already parsed Jay’s character and his history – finding that, despite the clash of characters, Jay would be good for you. He was very giving, affectionate, and selfless – something you, Jake thought, definitely deserve. Jay definitely is the best match out of all the potential matches so far, Jake thought to himself.

This should have been enough for him to rejoice at, for him to start reaching for the arrow in his quiver. After all, it’s rare to see you interact socially with men and have a good time with them — even rarer to find that particular man to be one of the best match he had come across for you. Sure, you two had really strong characters that would square the other at times but Jay would ultimately always be willing to break himself for you and give you the world. 

Had you been any other person, Jake would have already struck you both in seconds, latching you both together. But peculiarly, his mind was working on overdrive finding 1001 reasons not to instead. “Come to think about it,” Jake reasoned, feeling irked by the second, “this man is too affectionate and too selfless. You wouldn’t want someone like that right?” he materialised behind you, whispering in your ear as if you could hear him.

When you excused yourself to get some refreshments, Jake continued trailing behind you, ranting on and on as if trying to justify his actions. Or lack thereof, “I mean, eventually people like those will just bog you down,” he overtook you, stopping right in front of you, gesticulating wildly, “the kind that will make you stay out of guilt – make you second guess your own personality and character. I can see it happen y/n.”

He could see then that a tall guy near the podium was staring right at you — the interest and attraction evident in his eyes. “Heeseung-“ Jake read the name on his tag, his mind already parsing through him, seeing that Heeseung was one of the senior officers in the department just across of yours to whom you had always held high regard of. Him to you too. Again, this would have been a perfect match. Unlike Jay earlier, his personality and character would hardly ever square yours. He’d always relent to your choices and your ways, letting you call the shots. 

You caught a glimpse of Heeseung, giving a quick nod of acknowledgement and almost immediately Jake blocked your view, as if it even does anything, “not him either y/n,” he argued defensively, “he’s a hopeless romantic. You’d get sick of him in the long run.”

Just next to Heeseung is another guy who also by then kept throwing glances at you. Ni-Ki, an intern who was under your tutelage just a year ago but has since then moved on to other department. Jake grimaced as he parsed through the young lad’s memory, “definitely not him. Too young, still childish.”

Eventually, you turned away from the crowd, and looked out at the street below, your mind reeling from all the socialising you’ve had to do earlier. As your mind wandered, you find yourself becoming increasingly lost in your own thoughts, unaware of the intense gaze fixed upon you. “No one here is deserving of you y/n,” Jake murmured softly as he leaned sideways against the baluster, his eyes transfixed on your profile. 

As if spellbound, Jake studied your features as if you were a work of art. His eyes traced the delicate lines of your face, the curve of your cheek, the gentle slope of your nose, and the soft fullness of your lips. He inched closer, drawn to you like a moth to a flame, until he was so near that you could have felt his breath on your skin, had he been tangible.

And then, in a sudden twist, you turned your head abruptly in his direction, your eyes locking with his in direct precision almost as if you could sense his presence and see beyond the veil of invisibility that cloaked him. He watched, completely paralysed, as your brow twitched ever so subtly, hand raised close towards where his cheek were as if you could really perceive him. Jake’s breath hitched — enchanted — as he gently angled his face towards your palm, slowly resting his cheek against your hand, imagining the warmth of your touch, the softness of your skin. 

Lulled by the possibility, Jake's throat tightened, bringing his invisible hand up to yours, ghosting over it as if cupping it — yearning for the connection to be tangible, for you to see him, to feel the touch that he so desperately wanted to give.

He still have not fully understood the swirl of emotions and feelings he harboured for you but in that moment — when it felt like there was only you two in this world — he knew he wanted this. You for him, and him for you. 

He wanted to freeze time, to prolong this moment of connection that felt so right, but a voice broke through the intimate silence, shattering the fragile bubble he had created.

“You haven’t changed a bit-“

Jake felt a large hand pass through his, taking hold of yours, and his heart constricted with a pang of longing. The hand he had wanted to grasp, to hold, was now in the possession of another man — a tall and pale senior coworker who was supposed to still be on an overseas posting. Jake's breath hitched as he looked up and witnessed the smile on your face, a smile that he had never seen directed at anyone else. 

"Sunghoon?" your voice lit up with surprise and delight, and Jake felt a stab of jealousy at the warmth in your tone, "I thought you won’t be back for another two years!”

Jake stepped back, his invisible form fading into the shadows as he witnessed the reunion between you and Sunghoon. The hand he had longed to hold was now entwined with someone else's, and the smile he had wanted to claim for himself was shining for another. The warmth, familiarity and endearment between you and the man was so evident that it begun to stir something unfamiliar within Jake — a mix of protectiveness and longing that he couldn't quite name.

“Thought life here was much better so I sped the contract up,” Sunghoon shrugged haughtily.

“I bet it's because I wasn’t there,” you joked, trying to match his playful haughtiness. Usually Sunghoon would have replied with something equally as smug but somehow, something has changed and you could feel it in the way his eyes bore into yours and the way his hand had tightened over yours, lingering purposefully far too long for it to be casual. “Exactly,” he answered almost too genuinely you find yourself at a loss for words so you do what you do best — feign nonchalance, “oh bugger off,” you playfully yank your hand away, “What have America done to you!”

He grinned mischievously, “well, you know what they say, absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

You shook your head dismissively though the smile that has never left your lips and the way your eyes never broke his conveyed more than words could ever.

“Can I get a hug now? You never visited like you promised you would,” he extended his hands, brows wriggling playfully.

“I never made such promises but fine-“ you shrugged, trying to feign nonchalance, as you let him draw you nearer, let him engulf you in his large frame. You have hugged him before but this time, this too, felt different. “I’ve missed you y/n,” you feel him bend lower so he could bury his head in the crook of your neck and you feel his hand slide over your waist almost too intimately for it to just be a friendly hug. 

This time however you didn’t feign nonchalance, deflect nor playfully reject him. Instead you let yourself sink fully into the warmth of his embrace, your hands reaching up to hug him back as your head leaned against his chest, eyes shut as you murmured softly, “me too.”

Jake had never seen a more perfect pair. Sure you two had your differences but together, you guys complement each other seamlessly like two puzzle pieces fitting perfectly together. Your strengths balanced each other''s weaknesses, and your personalities would harmonize in a beautiful and enviable symphony of love and understanding.

Now would have been perfect, Jake found his rational self thinking, his hand automatically reaching for a golden arrow from his quiver. But instead of nocking the arrow and releasing it toward its intended target, he found himself hesitating, his knuckles turning white from the force of his grip.

In a surprising twist, Jake turned the arrow on himself, driving it into his own chest, directly over his heart. Immediately, the arrow exploded into a shower of glittering dust, as was its nature. Although the arrow had no physical effect on beings like him, with the way his interest and attention on you has dangerously warped with a mix of attraction, desire, and lust — he might as well have been shot with one. 

How peculiar, he thought. He had always wondered how does such intense love which human shared with one another feel and yet now that he felt it rising from within, all he felt was bitterness rather than joy. 

The glittering dust that lingered in the air seemed to mock Jake, serving as a tangible reminder of the complex emotions swirling within him — emotions of which was increasingly blurring the lines between duty and desire. While usually symbolising some sort of celebration, the glittering particles which was still dancing around him now felt like a warning, a sign that his path was veering into uncharted and potentially dangerous territory.

He knew then, perhaps a little too late, that he wanted you. Wanted you for himself.

— vi.

Since then gone was the desire within him to match you with anyone. In fact, gone was his desire to match anyone at all as he becomes increasingly preoccupied with you — more specifically, his desires for you.

He had begun to take on human forms longer than usual, trying to get your attention, trying to slip himself into the fabric of your life. But the task, which usually had been easy for him, was difficult this time because apparently his face and charms weren’t enough.

Having observed you for a long time he knew that blatant attention and attraction would put you off so he made sure to lay and play each parts carefully and strategically, making it seem as if everything was coincidental.

“Hi, I believe this is yours?” You asked innocently when Jake opened his door. In your hand was a parcel which had his name and address but somehow wrongly delivered at your doorstep.

Finally, Jake thought to himself, his heart almost leaping out of his ribcage. He had been waiting impatiently the whole day for you after having paid someone to deliver the package wrongly at your doorstep.

Almost effortlessly he feigned surprise and confusion, “right, sorry about that, I’m new in this apartment block so maybe there's a mix-up," he shrugged, careful to not look overeager, "been waiting for this limited copy of 1984 to arrive, thank goodness it got wrongly delivered in the right hands otherwise it would probably get resold in ebay or something—"

“1984?” Your face lit up. Of course my dear, it’s one of your favourite books isn’t it, Jake answered in his mind. Oblivious to the glint in his eyes and the subtle twitch of his lips, you continued excitedly, “I rarely see anyone around me read 1984!”

“Now you do,” he said charmingly as he offered his hand, satisfied at the way you have eased up, “my name is Jake. Jake Sim. I’ve just moved.”

“Oh I’m y/n,” you introduced, “I live in the apartment right under yours.”

I know, he muttered to himself in his mind, “thank you for this y/n. I’ll see you around.”

You nodded enthusiastically, oblivious to the way his words seemingly had double meaning.

The next few weeks Jake busied him by encroaching your life ever so subtly and strategically. You bumped into him in the same aisle at the bookstore and ended up chatting in a nearby coffee about your favourite books which somehow is similar to his. You bumped into him at dawn just outside your apartment complex before you go on your run, he himself was warming up for his, and that ended up with you two going on a run together.

Eventually you two became closer than mere neighbours that he could somehow orchestrate to get himself inside your place, “sorry about that-“ he apologised, coming out of your shower with the robe draping loosely and casually over his shoulders, making a poor effort of covering his chiseled chest and abs. 

While Jake was indeed very good-looking, you’ve always thought something about his looks seems so ethereal. But now, shed of all the sleek suits and tidy hair, he looks humanely good-looking and you found yourself almost stuttering in surprise when he got out.

“You should report it to the Head Office tomorrow," you averted your eyes towards the kettle in your kitchen, "I mean it's an expensive penthouse, how can the hot water be broken so soon? must be shoddy construction job or lack of maintenance."

“Burning the midnight oil?” He asked, leisurely leaning against the counter as he dried his hair.

“Yeah,” you sighed, pouring it into the flask where you had already added some coffee grounds and sugar. You felt the weight of his stare and out of pure courtesy, offered him as well, “oh, would you like–" you hesitated, "maybe not right? It’s almost 12.”

“Actually, yeah, that would be great,” he smiled, eyes boring into yours with an intensity that felt almost spellbinding. While Jake wanted nothing more than to bridge the physical gap in between you and him, and take your lips right there and then, he knew better than to submit to his desires this early. With others, it might have worked but with you he definitely had to take it slow. It pained him but like a prized conquest — he was willing to go through it.

Except regardless of how well-crafted his plans were, nothing could outpace what is really written. While he struggled to escalate the friendship he had built with you, Sunghoon had gotten closer and closer to you. 

When you did not come home one night, Jake re-assumed his non-human form, immediately locating you back in your office where you were burning the midnight oil with Sunghoon. 

Jake feels his anger simmering as he watched how Sunghoon latched onto you, following you wherever you go. He watched in frustration as Sunghoon hands hover close to you, as if being territorial; how his hands would even sometimes linger over yours more than necessary.

But it was the sight of you seemingly reciprocating him that was the most painful to bear: the way you let his hand lingered; the way you held his gaze instead of staring away; the way you never shifted as he drew nearer. 

The next thing he knew, Sunghoon had closed the distance between you and him, his lips gently pressing against yours, his hand snaking up your back to hold you ever closer. Jake was mortified. When you pulled away not long after, seeking a moment to catch your breath, Jake was sure then that you would have shoved Sunghoon off, perhaps even slap him for his boldness. But nothing of that sort happened for when Sunghoon re-attached his lips to yours, you didn’t resist, surrendering to the sensations he elicited, letting him devour you as you melt slowly into his embrace and touch.

Jake could feel the fury consuming him as he trudged up behind you, stabbing you with a lead-tipped arrow which would have sowed seeds of dislike for the other person but to his surprise, the arrow dissolved into dust the moment he stabbed it onto your back – telltale signs that the arrow will not work on you and nor Sunghoon.

That was when Jake knew that you were already written for Sunghoon and when that happens, nothing can usually be done because messengers are just really lower spiritual beings. That should have been Jake’s cue to give up but instead, it became a tipping point of when it all started going awry.

As his feelings festered in the worse of ways, he became more relentless and persistent in his pursuit of you. Except any small space he could have slithered himself ‘coincidentally’ into was becoming narrower as it becomes increasingly filled by Sunghoon. Soon it was Sunghoon who accompanied you running; Sunghoon who ate lunch with you; Sunghoon who accompanied you at bookstores; Sunghoon who sent you home; Sunghoon who stayed in your place until late.

There was absolutely no space for Jake anymore.

“Yes?” Sunghoon answered your apartment door one evening, not even bothering to conceal the distaste he felt within to see Jake at the door.

“Is y/n in?” Jake asked shamelessly.

Sunghoon shook his head, “she’s in the shower.”

There was an almost casual and domestic vibe to which Sunghoon was answering that question and Jake did not like it one bit. "There was a party at my workplace earlier," Jake passed on the box of cake and bouquet of flowers to him, "thought I'd share."

"Roses?" Sunghoon raised his brows, "She actually doesn't like roses. While she does like flowers, she actually doesn't like receiving them". Jake had to muster an insurmountable amount of energy not to let Sunghoon's words affect him even when he can clearly feel the venom laced in every words, "Oh and cake?" Sunghoon went on, "don't bother, she just like a spoonful or two, not the whole box."

You bastard, Jake muttered in his mind, wanting nothing more but to punch Sunghoon squarely in the face. More than that, he hated how Sunghoon knew the nuances of your likes and dislikes, making anything that Jake knew felt surface-level. If Jake knew your favourite colour, Sunghoon would probably know the exact shade of it; if Jake knew your favourite book, Sunghoon could probably cite your favourite quotes from it; if Jake knew you couldn't handle the cold, Sunghoon would probably know the precise timing of when to turn the heater on and off like an automatic thermostat. It was a sickening testament to the history and nature of your relationship with Sunghoon – of how far and deep it goes, the gap of which Jake could probably never bridge.

But Jake knows the subject of love well. With a mastery over the mechanics of love, he therefore knows exactly where the weakest links could be; where doubts and concerns can be sowed over time to topple the whole structure. In between you and Sunghoon, Jake knew your aloofness and romantically-inept nature can be a problem in the long-run with Sunghoon's possessive tendencies and predisposition towards jealousy. So Jake wanted to capitalize that.

"I mean, I just wanted to also thank her for the other night," Jake emphasized, noticing the way Sunghoon's jaw was already tensing, "when she let me shower at her place. It was so late but she was such an angel."

Jake could see the way in which the poison in his words worked it way through Sunghoon's system from the subtle ways in which Sunghoon's brows twitched and the way his jaw ticked though he tried to mask it with a diplomatic grin, "she has always been such an angel to the point of not sensing the ulterior motives in others," Sunghoon remarked with a hint of diplomatic sarcasm, "I'll make sure to pass the message. Next time it happens, let me know instead, I'll send a plumber right to your doorstep."

With that, the door closed and Jake's grin widened in triumph as he walked away, certain to have sowed instrumental doubts between you two. Except, as he lingered around the common area of your apartment floor, Sunghoon showed no signs of leaving. When 2 hours passed, he got even more agitated, impatience taking hold. It almost felt as if he was the one that has been toppled out of control. Jake had to do something though knocking at your door again is probably not the best idea.

So Jake transformed back to his non-human form – the ability of which was diminishing as days passed, the result of slacking in his duties and staying too long in his human form.

When Jake slipped inside your apartment, he could feel the dread rising, seeing the hallway too dimly-lit. “y/n,” he sighed in relief as he entered the living room and see you seated at the couch but soon the smile faltered as Sunghoon, who was beside you, leaned in and pressed his lips against yours – kissing you softly and tenderly. It was all cute and lighthearted – something Jake would have rejoiced seeing had it been any other person. But this was not just any other person. It was you. His you.

His hand gradually balled into a fist as he watched Sunghoon curled his hand over your nape, seizing you in place as he leaned in further to deepen the kiss. As the moment lingered, there was a palpable shift in the air – the sizzling tension of which was only mirrored in the way the kiss was escalating beyond it ever has with Sunghoon’s passion and desire growing more intense by the second as if he had been struck by countless of golden arrows.

Jake’s gaze hardened and as if possessed, he took out countless of lead-tipped arrows, stabbing it onto Sunghoon’s back in a desperate effort to stop him – only for each arrow to dissolve into black dusts – leaving Jake with no choice but to watch the horror unfold before him.

“Stop,” Jake croaked, hoping that you would pull away, that you would resist. But you didn’t. Instead Sunghoon’s body surged forward with urgency, forcing you to lean back onto the couch, his lips still glued onto yours. His movements were almost territorial now as he caged you in, his figure dwarfing yours completely while his hands rove possessively down your waist and up your back, tracing every curve and contour of your form, causing shiver to run down your spine.

Breathless, you pulled away, eyes locked into each other, breathing ragged, hearts racing wildly — the air almost catching fire from the sizzling tension. Sunghoon’s gaze, usually soft and doe-like, had darkened with raw passion and desire. Without anymore pretense nor hesitation, he plunged back in, crushing his lips down upon yours with fierce hunger, leaving you reeling from the force of his kiss. 

In a clear display of dominance and possession, Sunghoon pressed himself firmly against you, his lips parting yours, tongue slithering in to delve deeper, devouring you whole. It was clear then that this wasn’t just a simple kiss anymore. Jake knew exactly where it was all heading. 

And yet Jake was powerless to stop it.

— vii.

Jake re-entered the Abyss easily now for this was his 4th time. The 2nd was when he converted almost all of his riches for human money just so he can buy his disguises and play pretend in the human world. After all, the designers he wear and the penthouse above yours cost a fortune. The 3rd was when he bought more energy so he can stay longer in his human form. 

By now, the Abyss was no longer just a hazy dark alley of market with only one or two sellers visible. As Jake begin to understand and embrace all the dark desires he harboured for you, the place was now teeming with sellers.

It was true what the old man had said then, that the Abyss only reveals itself and the fullness of its world when you acknowledge your dark desires. In fact, the sellers that he can see are those who sell anything related to love and hate – as if the Abyss perfectly curates what you can see according to what your heart desires.

Jake marched to the corner where potions are being sold, the lady materialising out of nowhere, slithering in and out of the colourful fumes like a serpent. He reached for a ‘love potion’ — a bubbling concoction in deep red, “I want this but the strongest one. Get me the strongest hate potion too.”

“Gladly,” the seller cackled when suddenly the old man from the other day appeared behind Jake, “a messenger of love buying a love potion – do you, yourself, not see the irony in that young boy?”

Jake glowered at the man.

The man continued, “if someone like you can’t change her feelings, what makes you think potions can?”

Jake balled his fist, “tell me what to do then,” he lurched at the man, crumpling his collar, “you said this place has everything I could want, tell me where I could go then- who I should find- what I should buy-"

“What you want,” the man smirked, his eyes a pool of darkness, “carries a hefty price beyond all the wealth you’ve amassed.”

“Anything-“ Jake pleaded, memories of earlier replaying in his mind like a broken record, “I want her.”

Suddenly with a snap of a finger, Jake found himself transported into what looked like an underground cistern. Everywhere he looked were stretches of gigantic columns, dimly illuminated by an eerie red glow. 

Jake almost jumped, startled, when he turned around to see the old man sneering, his face contorting oddly. "The Netherworld?" Jake asked almost spitefully, "you've brought me to the Netherworld?"

“Get off your high horse young man,” he brushed past Jake, “entering the Abyss was one thing but being able to follow me into the Netherworld is another. You remember all the cautionary tales don’t you? It takes a very corrupted heart for a being like you to break through the veil and enter here-“

Jake watched the man descend down the stairs, alarmed when he saw his shadows bearing horns. When his eyes snapped back up the old man had turned into someone younger and taller — more than 2 ft — with horns curving out of his head and robes that seemed to be made entirely of black smoke, “what? you didn’t think I was an Angel did you?”

Jake took a step back, “you must be out of your mind to think that I would want to work with you, a wretched Evil Spirit of some sort?”

“You say that as if you’re spitting venom and yet the desires you have are just as wretched,” the man cackled, the shadows behind him growing imposingly large, “face it, their fates are written to be intertwined, how else do you expect to win her then? Parade as human? For how long exactly? You know you cannot overstay in the human world.”

“I saw a spell for partial mortality earlier,” Jake reasoned, startled when the man suddenly reappeared behind him, his long bony fingers gripping Jake’s shoulders, immobilising him from any attempts to run away, “right, at the cost of what Jake? Half of your wings? Entertain me then, how does mortality make you any more attractive to her.”

Jake opened his mouth, ready to answer but found no argument left. He heard the demon scoffing, his slender fingers brushing over Jake’s large wings which had by then turned a weird shade of grey from its original pristine white — symbolising the gradual corruption that had took hold, “in fact all of your converted riches would soon be used up before you can even get an ounce of additional interest from her. She is after all written for him.”

The demon snapped his fingers, reflecting you and Sunghoon at your most intimate moments on a dark pool nearby. It was a picture he had often been fantasising as of late except, the man that was taking you right now wasn't him. Consumed in fury — the emotion of which seemed to have amplified now that he was in the Netherworld — Jake shot his arrow against the reflection, the ripples causing the images to disappear. 

“Ooo, calm down lover boy,” the demon cooed, feigning fear by backing away, “I didn’t just plunge you down the murkiest of depths just to taunt you”.

“Then what?” Jake’s chest heaved in anger.

The demon smirked, suddenly looming larger than life, “there is possibly another way for you-“

“Spit it.”

“Take her away,” the demon suggested almost too lightheartedly, “bring her to this other plane. It's the only way you can fortify against the string that connects them. Wipe her memory clean, keep her preoccupied and just like that, she is all yours."

“But humans shouldn’t live in our realm.”

“Shouldn’t not can’t,” the demon corrected, “though no sooner than you can make love to her will you have the guards on your doorstep, sentencing you to death for breaking laws and ethics.”

Jake’s brows furrowed, "you call that a solution?"

The demon floated towards him, stooping to Jake's height as if wanting to appear as an ally now, "of course not, I'm just laying out all the options for you because I want to make sure that the choices you make are informed."

Jake's brows furrowed, patience wearing thin, "stop with the dramatics. You're a fucking demon, you will never make a deal that would be of the best interest for the other party."

"Well, I can shelter you both in this domain," he gesticulated wildly, "it's the only place that the guards don't venture into." The demon's grin widened as he watched the muscles in Jake's face easing, "told you I am on your side."

Visions of you in Jake's arms swirled in his mind. If he brings you here then indeed nothing else could come in between. Not Sunghoon, not anyone. There would just be him for you and you for him. Jake exhaled sharply, “what’s the catch?”

“Good boy,” the demon cackled, a throne materialising behind him and he sunk on it, “just work for me.”

Jake watched him in confusion as he looked around, wondering what would he need an extra hand for. The demon continued, “your arrows,” he motioned and suddenly his golden arrows turned black, trail of black smoke emanating from it, “use it to sow hatred and chaos. One strike on someone and his darkest desires would amplify to the point of action.”

“You-“ Jake swallowed thickly, the fables of when he was young ringing deafeningly in his head. He had heard of so many tragedies during his lifetime but he didn’t know he’d end up as the very man people cautioned him against: the elites who held the most potential but eventually turning to the dark side. Jake always thought of himself as incorruptible and yet here he was in the Netherworld, about to give up everything just to strike deal with a demon.

As if sensing his hesitancy, the pool nearest to him begin to reflect an image of you and Sunghoon in yet another intimate moment and just like that, something within him snapped. "I'll do it," Jake muttered in a low, yet steady voice, eyes glinting, "but you have to make her mine. Completely mine.”

The shadows that emanated from the demon's robe grew thicker, consuming him, leaving only loud his loud cackes echoing deafeningly throughout the cistern, "deal."

— viii.

You felt Sunghoon's hand seized your wrist, his touch firm as he pulled you onto bed. His lips found yours, tangling it in a passionate kiss, as his body clambered over yours, his touch possessive as he held you captive in his embrace. It took a considerable effort to pull away and break free from his grip which was almost like talons, "Sunghoon, come on now, I'll be back after my run-" you wedged an arm in between, stopping him as he attempted to reclaim your lips again. He sighed, burying his head lazily in the crook of your neck, "do you have to?" he murmured. There was a hint of plead in his voice, "it's not even sunrise yet."

"Exactly," you chirped, "best time to run."

Sunghoon sighed again, his grip reluctantly loosening as he rose from the bed, his hand gently snaking over your back to help you up. He hated letting you go alone for all he wanted was to keep you safe and close, by his side. But if there was anyone who understood you best in the world, it would be him. He knew how much you cherished your independence and freedom and he respected that, willing to give you the space and the alone time that you need, "promise to stick to well-lit and well-trodden paths?" he murmured softly with a gaze that is so soft and tender while his thumbs drew circles on your back, his touch both soothing and protective.

"Always," you reassured him, voice steady and calm.

You got off the bed, Sunghoon trailing closely behind, his hand never leaving yours. Once you had put on your shoes, you tiptoed towards him, planting a kiss on his lips as a reassurance. You could feel him smile into the kiss, his hand gently cradling your nape to stop you from drawing back, wanting to make the moment last longer. "Seriously," you hit him playfully and he captured your hand in his, holding onto it until you slipped out the door, lingering up until the very last moments.

Little did you know that your little kiss — an act you'd rarely initiate — would be your goodbye and little did he know that his reluctance, which was oddly so strong and defied all logics that dawn, was almost like a premonition of the tragedy that would befell you both.

— ix.

When you arrived at the park where you usually run at, you remembered feeling the dread rising. The trail was too foggy, the lights flickering doing nothing but making the whole place looked like a copy of Silent Hill. But you were always so fearless for your good, so you quell your doubts and anxieties — putting them aside as baseless.

Except when you began running, the fog only grew heavier and as you approached a bend, a massive black dog appeared out of nowhere, barking wildly at you. Startled, you veered off the main trail, hoping to outpace the menacing creature. As you hurried, your foot caught on an exposed root, and you stumbled. Before you knew it, you were tumbling down a steep embankment, the world spinning around you in a dizzying blur. You tried to grab onto something, anything, but your descent was swift and uncontrollable. Finally your tumbling ceased, leaving you in a crumpled heap, your body throbbing in pain.

As you lay there, numb and in pain, blinking against the dizziness, you noticed something peculiar about your surroundings. The familiar pine forest had transformed into a grove of ancient trees, their massive trunks reaching high into the sky. The sky, starless and moonless, was bathed in an eerie shade of dark blue as if suspended at dawn.

A sense of unease washed over you as you realized something was amiss. The air was heavy and thick with an aura of mysticism with an eerie silence enveloping the forest. You knew instinctively that something was wrong, and the urge to flee began to stir within you. But as you tried to gather your bearings and rise to your feet, your head began to reel, and your eyelids grew heavier. It was as if an unseen force was lulling you into a deep slumber.

You fought against the encroaching darkness, but your efforts were in vain and the last thing you remembered before your world turned black was a huge mass of shadow drawing nearer, its presence filling you with dread.

— x.

You woke with a start, your heart pounding in your chest as the familiar nightmare plagued your sleep once again. The dream was always the same—a black mist enveloping you as you ran, the sense of something sinister chasing you through the darkness. You sat up, burying your face in your hands, when you feel the space on the bed beside you dip. You feel a strong hand wrapped around your waist, its body curled protectively around yours. You feel him bury his face at the crook of your neck, planting soft kisses against it to calm you down. You turned your head, "Jake..." you whispered softly, meeting his warm gaze.

"Nightmares again?" he asked, voice soft and concerned, "you know dreams are just the Devil's plaything."

"Yes but-" you struggled to find the words, your mind still clouded with the remnants of the nightmare. Before you could say more, Jake hauled you onto his lap, his lips claiming yours in a passionate kiss, stealing your breath and your thoughts away. It was a kiss that made you forget the nightmare, a kiss that always felt like the first, no matter how many times he had kissed you before.

His hands roved hungrily over your back, igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume all rational thoughts. You kissed him back, surrendering to his passion, feeling him press forward, his lips parting yours with a gentle urgency as his head tilted to deepen the kiss, his tongue seeking yours. The kiss consumed you, sweeping away the remnants of the nightmare and replacing it with a different kind of darkness—one that was intoxicating and exhilarating. You finally managed to catch your breath when he began trailing kisses down your neck, nipping and sucking at certain spots, marking you as his own, claiming your skin with a possessiveness that sent a thrill through you. You could feel his desire, his need, and it only fueled your own.

Jake could himself hardly believe the moment would ever come: of him being able to call you his, of him being able to hold you close, of you actually reciprocating his love and touch. But indeed, this had become his every day now. Yet still, he could never get enough of you, wanting to imprint every touch, every kiss, onto your skin. You could feel yourself about to fully lose yourself to the overwhelming intensity of his touch when your eyes drifted to the window behind the bed, where the grove of ancient trees stretched as far as the horizon.

"Those ancient trees outside—" you stammered, trying to fight the overwhelming sensations, "it kept on haunting me in my dreams. Like a memory—" your voice trailed off as you felt yourself thrown back against the mattress, Jake hovering over you, his eyes burning with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

"You know you can't go out there," his voice was calm but there was an unmistakable warning in his voice, an edge to his tone that you hadn't heard before, "it's too dangerous."

You opened your mouth to protest, to ask why he always cautioned you against venturing into the forest, but any form of protest was muffled by another searing kiss. This kiss was different, hungrier, more primal, making you breathless and weak in the knees. "You're only safe with me y/n," he muttered in between kisses, "you're mine after all," his hips pressed against yours, his hands slipping under your shirt, making you shudder.

Jake had always been gentle towards you so the aggressive and almost primal way in which he was taking you right now was making you feel uncomfortable. The warning bells in your head rang faintly, but the sensations he elicited drowned them out. His kiss was like a drug, clouding your judgment and leaving you helpless to resist. As you felt him press you further into the mattress, your hands instinctively tangled in his hair, pulling him close, your body responding to his touch with a will of his own. Just like the clothing that were shed one by one, any remnants of doubt and hesitation begin to disappear. The morning after, you would wake up as if this castle had always been your home, as if this bed had always been the one you slept on, as if Jake had always been the love of your life.

But sometimes, when the nightmare comes, striking the deepest fear in your heart, a flash of images would surge through your mind, offering a glimpse of another life. Through it all, one constant remained — a man. His face was unclear, his features blurred by the haze of dreams, but his presence loomed large, leaving you with a sense of longing and an ache in your heart that you couldn't quite explain. It was as if your soul recognized him, even if your conscious mind could not recall his name or his face. The man may not possess Jake's gentle and warm nature but he oddly felt so safe. Like home. In fact it weirdly occurred to you that even if you didn't know him, you felt like you'd run towards him on instinct if you were made to choose between him and Jake — as if he's a sanctuary.

But then you wake up, and your heart would pound from the terror of being chased while your heart ached from what felt like loss and longing. While the terror would eventually dissipate throughout the day, the ache lingered, as if a void had opened up within you. That's why you always surrendered to Jake eventually for only it was under his soothing words and tantalizing touch could you fill the void and the quiet of yearning.

Until the next nightmare strikes.

a/n: damn writing the goodbye with Sunghoon made me ache lol. Hope you like this one. I actually enjoyed writing this one even though it did took quite some time to finalise. No, there won't be a Part 2 because I suck at writing continuations lol. And yes, there will be a Part 4 for Dancing with the Devil but patience friends.

>>> | Masterlist |

ㄴ CHERRY🍒 ㄱ : Lee Heeseung

pairing : pervert!heeseung x virgin!reader

cheeries to pop this semester : Y/N (Heeseung's pick)

Warnings : toxic heeseung, manipulation, coercion, morally gray characters, dub con, infidelity, angst, filthy smut, masturbation, voyeurism, exhibitionism, body image issues, body shaming, family issues (it gets heavy), unprotected sex, cum eating, violence, dacryphilia.

Wc : 23k+

a/n : IT'S FINALLY HERE OMG, this is my first full length fic on here and I really put my all into it, please reblog and leave feedbacks, it's really really important for me, I cherish all of your words so much<3

!!!!!!! READ PREVIEW FIRST !!!!!!!!

You're quite literally the most stuck up thing Heeseung has ever laid his eyes on. It’s the way you stick out like a sore thumb; Your ponytail is meticulously braided, the grandma skirt that you chose to wear cascades down, stopping just beneath your knees in a habitual fashion and your pressed pink silk blouse is impeccably buttoned up to the collar, not one inch of extra skin in sight.

The book clutched tightly against your chest ties your entire look of “austere sophistication” together.

"Microprocessors", the title reads. Pfft. Typical of you. Only you can clutch onto such a demonic book like it is some quality literature. Heeseung nearly fights the urge to scoff.

You're peak virgin demonstration if Heeseung’s ever seen one. Your embodiment of purity is unparalleled, and it feels like a personal attack on his masculinity that he hasn't been able to get you under him yet. Keyword : yet. 

As he backs you up against the wall, your eyes downcast and your free hand nervously fiddling with the button of your blouse, he thinks you look pathetic. You exude an air of pitiful vulnerability, and it ignites a primal desire within him to consume you entirely.

You're nervous and it’s palpable. He can see it in the way you don't even meet his eyes, refusing to face him at all. The blush adorning the apple of your cheeks is adorable; fuck, you're cute. And Heeseung doesn't like cute things. But something about you makes you the exception to his usual preferences. Your innocence only provokes him more, acting as a catalyst, intensifying his desire to unleash all his darkest fantasies on your inexperienced body. He wants to explore you, peel off your layers and dive in deep like no one has ever done before. This need, this innate urge to taint you; it drives him absolutely feral.

"Did you watch the video I sent you last night?" he asks, unable to stop himself from leaning into your space, taking a deep whiff of your vanilla perfume. You even smell like a virgin. Fresh and untainted.  And, oh so tempting. 

Your head shakes meekly, but the discreet way you bite your lower lip tells him that you did watch it. Fuck yeah. He was high and horny when he recorded that nut video. Pressing send wasn’t on his agenda but his head was filled with the sinful thoughts of you and your pretty pink lips, and what better way to testify his desire to you than making you see how he looks in throes of pleasure, chanting your name like a literal dog in heat.

You yelp when his hand grabs your waist to pull you closer to himself. God, you feel good against him.

He nuzzles his nose into your warm cheek while your tiny fist makes contact with his chest "let-let go" you squeak out and it only makes him chuckle in amusement. You're so fucking cute. 

"you liked it baby? Bet you liked how I stroked my dick nice and slow, just for you" He watches in glee as the red in your cheeks spreads all the way down to your neck. He loves how responsive you are, loves how even the littlest of words make you falter in front of him, like a frail flower caught in a sudden gust of wind. Then you look up, and Heeseung feels his breath leaving his chest, as if the air has been vacuumed from his lungs .Your big, captivating eyes meet his dark ones and he can't help but let his perverse curiosity take over his sick mind. He wonders how your pretty orbs look when you cry. 

Scratch that. He wants to see you cry. 

What makes this thought more unsettling is that fact that Heeseung isn't apposed to seeing you cry in pain. As long he gets to see your eyes brimming with tears , he cannot give less of a fuck about their source. He'll fuck you missionary, Heeseung decides, staring deep into your eyes while he slides deep inside your tight little pussy. His cock chubs up at the thought alone. 

"you c-can''t send me stuff like that, it's inappropriate" you mumble shyly. He snickers and squeezes the fat of your waist, making another pathetic squeak to leave your mouth. 

"What can I do darling, there's not one appropriate thought in my head when it comes to you. wanna do so many inappropriate things to you, you’ll let me won’t you?" He whisper asks, and watches how your eyes struggle to maintain eye contact before you succumb to your shyness, choosing to look down instead.

 

"Heeseung, man, it’s time to go " Jake's panicked voice interrupts the filthy words he was about to mutter in your ears again. He turns his head slightly towards the entrance of the hall and sees Jake's brown mop of hair, rustling right outside. Heeseung sighs and turns back to face you. 

"Looks like we'll have to cut our fun short, you'll wait for my call tonight won't you baby? wanna hear your voice when I cum" He tells you, reveling in the way you only curl into yourself at his words, chewing your bottom lip raw. Fuck he wants to kiss the fuck out of you. But he can't. Not yet. Heeseung is aware of the boundaries he’s been crossing by touching you and sending you intimate stuff without your consent, and he doesn't want to push it, not so fast.He lets go of your body reluctantly and winks at you before making his way out of the hall. Jake's frantic eyes meet his once he's outside, and he rolls his eyes, already sensing an incoming lecture about morals and respect. 

"I'm never gonna be your guard dog again, it's risky fucking business" Jake spits,brows furrowed in distress. Heeseung merely shakes his head at him "you won't get it" he mumbles as he walks ahead, leaving Jake to run to catch up to him

"Yeah, I don't see the fun in being suspended, but hey, maybe that's just me" Jake replies sarcastically ,making Heeseung give him “the” look. "Dramatic much?" He asks, rounding the corner to the cafeteria and making his way inside. 

"I'm being dramatic? You're the one risking your reputation for some pussy, we can both be in jail for sexual harassment". Heeseung tunes out his friend's baseless rant and plops onto his designated seat. Jake slumps down right next to him. 

"Man I'm just saying, that if she ever decides to go to the dean about this, your messages will be proof enough to land you in big trouble" Jake explains. “and me too because you drag me into every unethical thing like the good friend that you are” he adds, sarcasm dripping from his tone, and Heeseung wonders when Jake fell victim to the sassy men apocalypse. 

But you won't, you love the chase as much as he does, he can see it in your eyes, Heeseung wants to say, but he doesn’t, choosing to stare at you instead. His eyes trace the movement of your figure when you enter the cafeteria sometime later. You're still hugging the book to your chest, making your way to the seat that's the farthest away from everyone else, as always. Your skirt makes his hands itch, he wants to know what lies underneath so fucking badly. He wonders if you know the effect that your modesty has on him, wonders if you know that your body being covered from head to toe gives more space for fantasy and yearning than any naked girl ever could.

"Stare any longer and your eyeballs might fall out of their sockets" Sunghoon’s berating voice brings his attention back to the table. He was so lost in you that he didn't notice sunghoon flopping down in the seat right across from him, shrugging his jacket off and throwing it unceremoniously on the table. 

"She's gonna be the death of me" Heeseung bemoans, running an exasperated hand over his face. Sunghoon laughs and kicks his leg under the table. 

"She already saw her name in that list that day, she knows what you want, and I don't think she'll let you anywhere near her anytime soon". Jake snorts, masking it with a cough when Heeseung shoots a glare in his direction.

He looks over at you again, finding the way you fiddle with your pen oddly erotic. He thinks he might be losing his goddamn mind, because the way he jerked off right after you angrily threw the “cherries to pop this semester” list on his face and stormed off , was shameful to say the least. That was the first time he had seen pure heat and raw emotion in your eyes, and damn you looked sexy as hell when you were angry. 

"She won't be a virgin by the end of this semester, write it down" Heeseung challenges, meeting Sunghoon's eyes. His friend only shrugs in response and turns around to look at you over his shoulder. 

"Sure, but by the looks of it, you won't be the one doing the honors" Jake snorts again , but Heeseung doesn't spare him a glance this time, his entire attention pivoted to the raven haired boy making his way over to your table. Heeseung doesn't like the way your eyes light up and you instantly sit up straighter in your seat, fixing your hair as if looking to impress. He scoffs. Loudly. Fucking park jongseong. 

"Does she really find that dweeb attractive?" He can't help but ask, jaw clenching when he sees you blushing, genuinely blushing and smiling at someone who's not him. 

"I dunno man, girls love that whole nerdy gentleman thing jay's got going on, some bullshit about being a green flag and all" Sunghoon supplies.

"They're friends too, lover boy's got game" Jake adds, smiling cheekily when Heeseung shoots him a dark look, yet again. 

◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

You're in a trance like state when you walk back home. With the whole hall incident with Heeseung, and jay approaching you at lunch, today doesn’t seem real, as if belonging to a different reality altogether.

What you feel for Heeseung isn't something that you can describe in words. He.. He harasses you. He touches you and grabs you and gropes you, but within limits. His actions lie in a murky territory, perplexing the norms of acceptability, and yet, you only yearn more. does that make sense? Maybe it doesn't to normal people, but in your touch starved brain, it perfectly makes sense. Some days you hate him and some days you crave him, always oscillating between the extremes of loathing and longing. You suppose that's because he's been the only source of thrill amidst the barren landscape of your existence for a very long time. He excites you, he flusters you, but ignites flames beneath your breastbone with mere words. His gaze unnerves you and yet, you can't bring yourself to push him away. Some would call you crazy, and you won't have any convincing arguments to defend yourself.

You have been a little desperate all your life, desperate for someone to want you, desperate for someone to see you, a ceaseless yearning for recognition, for acknowledgement of your existence and you're not ashamed to admit it. After all, how far can you lie about the very thing etched into your bones and skin? And to what end?

More, more, more, the intense craving, an insatiable hunger for it defined your very being. You were an unattractive child and grew up into an even more unappealing adult , at least that's what your mother used to tell you before she eventually passed away. Her echoes of criticism resonated through your subconscious, shaping you as a mirror of her own insecurities.

That would explain why you can't meet your own eyes in the mirror, and crave attention like a drug, seeking solace in the fleeting attention Heeseung bestows upon you. He's akin to a drug that leaves you high and delusional for a while, intoxicating you with fleeting moments of desirability.

You aren't stupid though, you harbor no illusions regarding his intentions . You know what he wants from you, you are aware that you as a person don't mean a thing to him, he just wants to take your virginity and flaunt it around like a badge of peak male prowess or something, you're just another challenge to him, reduced to a mere conquest for his vanity. But you haven't felt like a person in so long, you don't think you are in any position to make demands.

When you've been parched long enough, when the thirst reaches fever pitch, threatening to push you over the verge of insanity; the yearning for satisfaction eclipses the rationality of self preservation. The moment of brief satiation held such a twisted appeal, that you were willing to embrace pain and self destruction if it came along with a fleeting sense of fulfillment. The need for validation clouds your judgement, and you become nothing but a mindless puppet of your desires.

That might also explain why your crush on park jongseong is still alive after being brutally rejected in the first semester. Jay and you had developed a friendship really quickly at the very beginning of college, but both of you had never really talked outside of the university hackathons and coding competitions. His knowledge was what drew you to him, and the way he was able to come up with solutions to the most complex problems while you were fighting for your life, it just left you with no choice but to watch him with heart eyes. He was always polite to you too, and what were you if not a sucker for gentle and soft spoken men. 

He stopped talking to you after you confessed though, not completely because you still had to work on projects together, but conversations became more one sided and short, and so eventually, you just grew apart.

But ever since you got grouped together for the Cp techathon, he has started acting different; there’s so many lingering touches and subtle flirty glances that sometimes you’re sure you’re imagining everything in your head. Maybe you should get checked out for maladaptive daydreaming. Just a suggestion.

You're pulled out of your thoughts when you reach the curb of your house and don't see your dad's car parked inside. You breathe out a sigh of relief at the sight and proceed to make your way to your neighbor’s house. Suzy, your 60 year old neighbor, might be the only good thing going on for you. As you ring her door bell, you can't help but feel excited at the prospect of seeing your brother after an entirety of 2 whole weeks. Pitter patter of slippers approaches the door , and Suzy's wrinkled face greets you with a warm smile, as if she was already expecting you. 

"Hi" you smile, and she motions behind her, at the loud chatter of your brother. 

"Jihoon has not stopped asking for you for a second" She says , and you can't help but laugh as you make your way inside. 

The four year old stops talking to his toys as soon as he sees you, his blue orbs staring at you for a whole minute in amazement, and then , as if snapping out of a trance, he sprints towards you at the speed of lightening. "Y/n! " he squeals.

You giggle when he tackles you with a hug, sighing in contentment at finally feeling him so close. You're hit with a sudden urge to cry, feeling his tiny arms wrap around your neck, being away from him never gets easy no matter how many times you have done it. You coo as he tells you how much he missed you, burying his tiny frame further into your chest. You press several kisses to his face and tell him you missed him just as much. 

"Will you be taking him home today?" Suzy asks, coming over to sit down on the couch in front of you. You caress the back of jihoon's head, rocking him back and forth in your embrace, and meet her eyes, nodding a little. "Dad won't be home for a few weeks, hopefully, his car isn't there" you tell her. She nods in understanding and pats your arm, letting you know with her eyes, that she'll be here if you need her. 

You're grateful for her, she's the only person you can entrust your little brother with when things start to get bad at home. On the days your dad decides to get shit faced and break everything in the house, succumbing to bouts of inebriation, you're grateful that you can keep jihoon away from the violence. You honestly don't know what you would do without Suzy, the only steadfast refuge from the chaos that is your life. In some way, you are aware that having jihoon over alleviates her loneliness too, fulfilling her own needs of companionship that she deeply craves in her old age.

 

Occasionally, you're hit with a wave of inevitable jealousy at jihoon’s sheltered innocence, wishing that someone had kept you away too; from the violence and the pain. But you guess you were meant to be the protector instead of the protected, healing your inner child every time you see jihoon smiling brighter than the sun. If you had to live through all the suffering again , just to preserve and shelter his infectious smile, you would do it in a heartbeat. 

Suzy hands you a box of home made food when you make your way outside. "I promise to be back for you in a few hours sweetie, you will behave right?" you coo at jihoon's snotty, red nose as he clings onto your leg, begging you to take him with you. You sigh and watch in helplessness as Suzy picks him up in her arms, shushing him down so you can leave. It never gets easier.

Returning home, you dodge the broken pieces of glass and frames, quickly get out of your college attire, throwing on a pair of worn out jeans and a discolored top. There's still an hour for you to be at your part time job , and so you start cleaning the house instead. You don't know why you bother, to be honest, but there's an innate need that craves normalcy. When the house is clean, that means everything is going to be okay. Cleaning serves as a ritual of order amidst chaos, offering a sense of control amidst uncertainty.

Your shift at the cafe ends in a daze, countless customers come in and go out, some rude, some decent but you have learnt to take everything in a stride now. First month you had started working this job, you were a crying mess after the end of almost every shift, your sensitive little heart unable to comprehend why people were so rude. However, just like everything else in your life, you adapted to the demands of the job pretty quickly. As you stare at the now almost deserted cafe, save for a handful of students engrossed in their laptops, you pray that no one else comes in. Fatigue weighs heavily upon you, you’re exhausted out of your mind and just want to get out of here as soon as you can. Yet, as the familiar chime of the entrance bell resounds, signaling the arrival of yet another customer, you resign yourself to another interaction.

Your head snaps towards the door and your jaw quite literally falls to the floor. For as long as you have worked here, you've never run into any of your classmates. However, today out of all days, when you look like the wall mart version of the walking dead, park fucking jongseong is here. Because of course he is, your life has to be a social experiment. 

You pull yourself together when you realize that he's smiling at you, and you aren't smiling back. "Hi" you squeak out, fairly sure that you sounded pathetic. He grins at your flustered state, and leans closer to you on the counter. 

"Hi" He whispers back, your heart beating faster at the look he's giving you. You stare at his perfectly parted raven hairs and mentally pass out when he fiddles with his lip ring. 

"Um-so- what can i get you?" You stutter out, finally coming to your senses and realizing that you have a job. His eyes travel down to your chest , and he leans further into your personal space, his expensive cologne filling up your senses. 

"I'll take you" He replies smoothly.

"I-, what-you huh" you splutter, not quite trusting your own ears. There's no way Jay is flirting with you right now. The crush that you've harbored for the boy blooms in full glory as he continues to smile at you, a suggestive glint in his eyes. His smile is so damn pretty.

 

"I'm kidding pretty girl, I just saw you from across the street and thought I'd say hi, and ask if you need a ride back home" He explains. Your lips tug into a shy smile at the nickname, and you peek outside to see his gray Volkswagen parked across the street. Oh wow, Jay thinks you're pretty AND he wants to give you a ride back home. Why does that sound so familiar? You’re pretty sure you saw this same scenario playing out in one of your lovesick dreams last week.

"Oh-um- i don't wanna cause you any trouble" you mumble , hoping that he doesn't see the way your back is ramrod straight all of a sudden. You never really prepared yourself for the possibility of him , or anyone for that matter, wanting to drop you at your house. You're not ashamed of your neighborhood or the life that you live, but you despise the looks of judgement and pity more. You have managed to maintain this facade of a properly put together person for so long in college, and it has saved you so much mental torture that you know would ensue once everyone gets to know about your humble abode, and how your scholarship is the only reason you’re able to afford your college. 

"come on sweetheart, would I really walk all the way across the street if I really didn't wanna see you?" He asks, fiddling with his lip ring again. If you didn't know any better, you would say he looks sort of nervous. But why would anyone be nervous of you. Of all people. 

You nod meekly and mumble a quick "my shift gets over in 5 minutes", trying to wrap your head around the fact that Jay wanted to see you. HE wanted to see YOU. Jay winks at you and makes his way outside. You follow him with your eyes as he crosses the street and goes back inside his car, waiting for you. 

HE'S WAITING FOR YOU. What on god’s green earth. 

Seeing that there's only one customer left, you hurriedly make your way to the ladies toilet and wash your face, trying to get rid of the tiredness and grime off of it. What if he kisses you? Your own delusion makes you laugh. You do have some nerve at coming up with such insane scenarios in your head. He's just being nice, and here you are, hearing wedding bells. 

You reapply your lip balm and take off the apron you were adorning over your tee. You look okay. Well. There's not much you can do in the current situation anyway. You do hope that he overlooks how unkempt you look compared to your college appearance. Should you untie your hairs? But, wouldn't that be too much? He just saw you with a ponytail... fuck it, it's like a once in a lifetime opportunity anyway. You untie your hairs and let them fall in cascades over your shoulders. This is better.

 

You clean up behind you and inform the remaining customer that it's closing time. Handing the keys to Ralph, the security guard, you quickly run across the street, not wanting to make him wait any longer. Jay opens the car door for you from the inside even before you can reach it.

 

"Hop in" He says, a grin in his voice and he doesn't have to ask you twice.

 

This might be the most expensive car you've ever had the opportunity to sit in. The leather is soft against your skin, and it smells of fresh citrus. Even his car smells good. 

"So, Where to darling?" He asks, running his eyes all over you. You feel a little self conscious under his gaze but manage to utter your address nonetheless.

The entire ride is mostly silent with little conversation that he makes, asking you for directions. It isn't awkward, and you're so grateful for that. 

"Is this it?" He asks, stopping his car in front of the building whose name you blurted instead of your real address. 

You nod and thank him, ready to get out of the car when he grabs your wrist, pulling you into him. The middle console digs into your stomach but you honestly couldn't care less with the way his hot breath falls on your face. 

Your cheeks are warm and you are sure that you represent a tomato with the way the heat only increases when he tucks your hairs behind your ear with his other hand. 

And oh god, he's leaning in, his eyes fixed onto your lips as he inches closer and closer and- 

As if on autopilot, You push him away. Your cheeks burn in embarrassment at how taken aback he looks by your sudden reaction. 

"I-im sorry i- i don't-

"I thought you liked me" He says in a hostile tone, and you can hear the annoyance in his voice, can see the indignation in his eyes. 

You can't believe you just pissed off your longtime crush because of your inability to be normal. How could you have fucked up so badly? 

"I-i do, I do like you" You mumble quickly, trying to hold your tears at bay when he scoffs at your words. The shame weighs heavy on your chest as he stares at you a bit longer before looking forward towards the road. 

"Goodnight y/n" He replies sharply, in the most coldest voice you have ever seen him use towards you. 

Your lips quiver as you wrack your brain for something to say but you don't think you can say anything to fix this now. You've made a fool of yourself and embarrassed Jay all because you can't be fucking normal about anything. 

He presses the horn aggressively, and you jump, mumbling apologies and scurrying out of his car hurriedly. Your ears burn in humiliation when he drives off without sparing a single glance towards you. 

Well done y/n. Your habit of being self sabotaging never really will go away. You cry all the way back to your house, not understanding the abrupt downturn of promising events. It was going so well. He was going to kiss you. You were so close to having your first kiss. 

You wipe your tears dry when you get close to your house. Jihoon is fast asleep in Suzy's arms when she hands him over to you. You thank her for her kindness and make your way to your house, cradling jihoon's sleeping form. When he cuddles into your neck, his innocent embrace evokes a flood of pent up tears; all that you've been pushing back today, comes flooding out. You can't help but wonder if you'll ever be able to sleep this carefree in someone's arms. If there's love meant for you,then you have never felt it once in your life, and you wonder if it's too late now.

You're crying when you tuck him tenderly into bed, crying when you leave a wet kiss on his forehead, caressing his soft cheeks. You're crying when you try to eat the food Suzy gave you in the afternoon, and you're crying when you rub off all the evidence of today from your body inside the shower. At one point, you aren’t even sure what you’re crying about.

Thankfully, when you come out of the shower, the tears have ceased. You embrace the numbness which spreads all over your body after a soul crushing sob session. It’s funny really, how quickly you seem to turn your emotions on and off like a flip switch, like they aren’t even real at all.

Once your emotions are out of the way, and jihoon is asleep, you can't help but relish in the feeling of your skin under your fingertips. You aren't particularly horny, you just want to feel better and sleep with an empty mind. Masturbation always seems to work.

 

You throw off your towel and crawl onto the bed, spreading your legs and rubbing small circles on your clit, trying to get yourself wet. You rub and rub, and whine when it starts to feel somewhat good. Still, it isn't good enough to get you soaked thoroughly, so that you can cum again and again to your heart's content.

You groan frustratedly and reach for your phone, feeling extremely ashamed when your finger hovers over heeseung's chats. Your pussy tingles in excitement when you read his lewd words, attached to the video he sent you yesterday. 

"Gonna fuck you so good if you give me a chance baby, look how hard you make this dick"

You bite your lower lip and press play, rubbing your thighs together at the wet sounds coming from the video. His dick is so thick and girthy, curving upwards in excitement. His fingers look so long wrapped around his cock, you can’t help but squeeze your thighs at the thought of feeling them inside of you.

The way he moves his palm, up and down, up and down, moaning and groaning your name in pleasure, it has you writhing in no time. You will never admit it to heeseung, but he's the only person you ever think of while touching yourself. He turns you on beyond belief. He turns you on in a way that feels wrong. Almost Taboo. 

You continue to rub your clit to the sight of him jerking off, hoping that you could see his face in the video too. You wonder what he looks like when he's feeling good. The thought alone is enough to have you dripping in no time. You throw your phone onto the bed, but before you can start fingering your leaking pussy, your phone rings, making you groan in annoyance. 

You reach beside your head to pick it up and almost drop it on your face when you see heeseung's name flashing on your screen.

Fuck. What the fuck.

When he told you in college that he was gonna call, you really didn't think he actually will. But the phone is ringing and your body lights up in excitement. Is he really going to jerk off on call? Is he really that perverse?

Curiosity gets the better of you, and you swipe right, chewing on your lower lip as you press the phone against your ear. 

"Hey baby, I didn't think you would pick up, missed me didn't ya? " His cocky voice blares through the speaker and you blush. How was he making you blush over the phone, get a fucking grip y/n.

He chuckles when you don't say anything, finding your silence cute. 

"At least say a hi for me baby, so I can know that I'm not about to jerk off for your dad" His words make you wince, why was he so vulgar? 

"Heeseung!" You whisper shout, trying to convey through your voice how scandalized you are.

 

"There she is, fuck pretty, you're gonna stay with me on call while I beat my meat for you yeah?" He grunts and you gasp, feeling violated by his language alone. 

You rub your thighs and fiddle with your pebbled nipples "c-can you not use such words? " you ask quietly, hoping that he doesn't pick up on the silent whine that leaves your mouth right after. 

You hear a little shuffling on the line and your face feels hot. So he really is getting ready to jerk off? What will he say if you tell him how wet you are for him right now?

Heeseung can't believe you haven't hung up on him yet. His dick getting harder and harder the more that he hears your cute fucking voice. 

"Nah baby, I'm a nasty motherfucker, you should know that. If you ever let me fuck your cunt, I'll show you what real nasty sex feels like" He says, groaning when he hears you whimper at his words. Fuck. Why the fuck are you so fucking cute. 

He hisses when he wraps his rough palm around his leaking prick, he hasn't even started jerking off yet and he's already leaking so much precum.

Heeseung doesn't like cute things, but fuck does he want to fuck into one, wants to pound your cute little pussy while you make those cute little sounds for him. 

His ears perk up when he hears the wet squelching sounds coming through the speaker. Fuck. Fuck are you--? 

"baby, are you touching yourself? I can hear your wet little cunt through the phone" He grunts, as if in pain.

The moan that you let out tells him all that he needs to know. And damn he's never been so fucking hard before. 

"fuck yeah baby, fuck yourself with your tiny little fingers, make yourself feel real good for me" He groans, stroking his cock at a rapid pace, unable to stop himself from going feral. This is the first time that you have given him the taste of what it really could be like if he was buried in your wet snatch. It's driving him batshit crazy. 

"H-heeseung" you mewl, making him fuck into his fist faster. God, you sound so sexy. The heat spreads all over his body, making him feel so damn good that he starts bucking up his hips into his hands. 

"Y-yeah? Feels so good yeah , baby? Fuck, I wish It was my cock buried in you right now, I would pound you all fucking night -ugh fuckk" he grunts, panting as he feels the knot in his stomach tighten. He wants to cum so bad. 

Your whines reach a fever pitch and the intensity of the wet squelch increases. God, the filthy sounds of your wetness as you play with your pussy, make his tongue loll out of his mouth. He needs to bury his face in your juices before he dies.

"g-gonna c-um im-ah" you moan, whining and panting as your orgasm gets closer.

Heeseung curses under his breath and jerks off furiously, squeezing his engorged dick head and hissing in pure pleasure. 

"Oh yeah, cum all over my fucking cock baby, make a fucking mess, I'm gonna give you my cum too" He moans, thrusting up into his fist, again and again and again, chasing his high desperately. His palm is a wet, sticky mess of precum while he strokes his shaft to your whiny voice. You make him so fucking horny, the brutal way he's fisting his dick is a testament to that. 

A loud moan on your end makes him cuss, his own eyes rolling back as he hears you cumming. So fucking cute, god you sound heavenly. His hips buck up into his fist a few more times before he's spurting thick strings of his cum all over his chest and palm. He plants his feet onto the bed, and thrusts up into his fist over and over to drain himself of all that he has to give.

Fucking hell, that was probably the best jerk off session of his life. Before he can tell you that, however, you hang up on him. 

Heeseung chuckles in exhaustion and doesn't even bother cleaning his body, laying on the bed in pure sexual satiation. 

You're so cute. 

The events of yesterday hit you hard in the morning. Your eyes are swollen and red because of the crying session you had after masturbation. When the high of the orgasm wore off, everything else came back and it hurt like a bitch. 

You can't believe you let heeseung talk you through your orgasm, you can't believe that he made you cum without touching you, and what you can't believe the most is how much you liked it. 

Your mind drifts off to Jay, and a sudden shame fills you up again. No matter how hard you try, you're unable to forget the look of disappointment on his face, looking at you with so much annoyance etched onto the creases of his face, it almost reminded you of your mother.

Your gaze goes to the clock and you can't help but heave yourself out of the bed. As much as you'd like to stay and rot in extreme self pity, you don't have the option. Jihoon will be up soon, and you have a limited one hour stretch to make his lunch and get ready for college. You're not ready for the walk of shame to college, but being an academic weapon is your only achievement in life. You wonder what you would be if they take that away from you. Have you ever done anything else? Gone out, made friends? Got drunk at parties, had sleepovers? You haven't, you realize with a throbbing pain at the back of your head. It never was an option for you. 

You take a shower and fix a quick breakfast for your brother and yourself, getting ready in your prim and proper attire, reverting back to your put together front. 

Waking up jihoon is a work of lost art that you've mastered over the years, and so it's easy work. What isn't easy, however, is to convince him to let you go. 

"Why can't you stayy" He whines, tears already filling up his big, brown eyes as he clings to your leg like always. 

You kneel down to come face to face with him and quickly wipe his tears away "I'm going to bring back chocolates, you like them right?" you ask, cooing when he nods, his brows still furrowed in defiance. 

"Then someone will have to go and bring them right? so be a good boy and let y/n go" 

His little brows furrow further and he shakes his head again "suzy can go" He declares, and you can't help but be endeared. All the time that you stay away from him, you'd started to believe that he'll develop more of an attachment with suzy and eventually forget you. But these little things, these are the things that keep you going. 

You plant a big kiss on his puffy cheeks and he's back to grinning in no time, giggling as you tackle him in your arms. 

"Just a few more hours baby, I'll be back and we'll play together, I promise" you assure the little boy and his eyes shine at your words, "swings! at the park!" He exclaims, as if remembering the most important treasure of his life. You nuzzle his nose with your own and intertwine your pinky with his tiny one in a promise. It's so easy to make him happy, your perfect little baby. 

You pepper jihoon with a few more kisses before dropping him off at Suzy's.

Your heart tugs when he starts to cry for you again, but this is your life, you suppose. 

You keep your head down the entire way to class, lest you run into Jay and embarrass yourself again. Luckily for you, Jay isn't in his designated seat in the automata class, and you can’t help but breath a sigh of relief.

The relief is tremendously short lived tho, because Lee Heeseung is sprawled on the seat right next to yours in his full glory. 

Your cheeks turn red when your eyes meet his cocky ones. He smirks and raises a suggestive brow when you don't make a move to come any closer. 

"Do you plan to stand for the entirety of this two hour lecture baby?" He asks, suckling on the pop sickle that he always seems to have somehow. You quickly scan the seats around you, deciding fuck it, and plop onto jay's seat instead. There's no way you will be able to spend two whole hours under Heeseung's lecherous gaze. After last night, you have no idea how to face him. Even on normal days he leaves you extremely flustered and a clumsy mess. 

You can feel his gaze burning holes at the back of your head for the entire duration of the lecture. Sometime in the middle of the lesson, a crumpled paper hits the back of your head. You turn around, shooting heeseung an annoyed look. At least you try to look annoyed. The blush is still prominent on your cheekbones so you can only imagine what you look like to him. 

He motions his head towards the ball of paper lying near your feet. As much as you want to ignore his shenanigans and focus on the lecture, curiosity always gets the best of you. 

You unfold it quickly, tucking it inside your book so that nobody else can catch the words scribbled on it. 

"Wait for me in the janitor's closet"  

You shoot a defying look towards heeseung and crumple the paper back to land it near his jordans. It's equivalent to you saying "I won't" 

Heeseung only grins at you, shooting a wink in your direction, as if to reply

"I know you will"

He has some audacity, you think, as you make your way to the janitor's closet after class. A slave to your desires, you suppose.

A part of you is nervous and ashamed when his 6 feet tall figure enters the limited space of the closet, caging you against the wall. However, the other part of you, the desperate part of you , preens in the attention, almost feeling a sick pride in the fact that you made him cum too. And maybe even harder, if the way he was moaning last night was anything to go by.

 

His large hands circle your waist , and your breath hitches in your throat when he pulls you closer to himself, his nose touching yours while his hot breaths warm your mouth. 

"have sex with me" He says, leaving you speechless, yet again. It's not that he hasn't said those exact same words and even worse things to you before. It's the bluntness that never fails to take you by surprise. 

You shake your head, trying to push yourself out of his grasp. He's stubborn tho, and so damn strong, his hold like an iron grip around your body. 

"Cmon- he groans in frustration- you can have sex with me on the phone but not in person, how is that fucking fair? "

You whimper when he squeezes the fat of your waist harshly, as if branding your body in his hold. You aren't used to being touched so wantonly, and it makes a sick shiver run down the length of your spine.

"W-we did not have s-sex" you splutter, staring right back into his orbs. His heavy lidded eyes travel down to your lips and he leans in, making you gasp loudly when his pink tongue comes out to taste your lower lip, licking it tentatively. Almost experimental in how he runs it all over your lower plump lip. He pulls away before he can steal your first kiss, and you'd be lying if you said you didn't feel somewhat disappointed. 

"Yes we did have sex. Your tight little pussy came for my fucking cock while you were moaning my name" He supplies cockily, his words sending a wave of heat rushing down between your legs. 

He buries his nose in the crook of your neck and presses his body flush into yours, grinding the proof of his desire against your leg.

"Look what you do to me, fuck baby, if you won't let me fuck your cunt, at least take responsibility for your own actions" He grunts into your skin and you can't help the pathetic moan that leaves your mouth. 

"H-how" you ask, feeling yourself getting wetter the more that he humps your leg. 

Heeseung doesn't reply to you, instead, takes your hand that's clutching his shoulder and press it against his hard on instead. 

"fuck yeahhh" He hisses, apparently craving your touch like a drug. 

you're sure your face can't get any redder than this. If it wasn't for his tight hold on your body, your knees would have buckled and given up a while ago. The feeling of a dick underneath your palm is foreign but so arousing, the fact that you did this to him. He’s hard for You. 

"Come on baby, squeeze it like you mean it, make me feel fucking good" He hisses, groaning into your neck when you squeeze him softly. The hardness in his jeans seems to get thicker and thicker, it fascinates you. 

He ruts his hips into your palm, desperately,trying to chase the delicious friction while he pants into your soft flesh.

"Fuck, it's not enough" He curses, pulling back from you to unbuckle himself.

You bite into your lower lip in arousal and squeeze your thighs to alleviate some of the pressure you feel between your legs. 

He looks up into your eyes, licking on his lips as he plays with the band of his boxer briefs. He watches in amusement, the way that your eyes can't seem to focus on one single thing, jumping from here to there, so nervous,so pretty and . God, you're cute. 

He takes your hand in his own again and slips it inside his boxers, covering your palm with his own while he uses your soft hand to jerk himself off. 

The hot and heavy feel of his leaking length has you whining. That only makes him chuckle and groan. "Mhmmn baby that feels so good"

The wet and messy way in which he uses your palm to stroke his length up and down, it's addicting, your palm feels soft and his whole body shivers when he sees how desperately you're squirming, your eyes wide and glossy. He wants to fucking ruin you. 

He presses his body further into yours, taking your earlobe into his mouth, small whimpers falling from his mouth while his movements get faster. Your palm is slick with his precum, it should gross you out but everything is so hot and heavy in the small space. 

"Are you wet? Just from feeling my dick? Desperate little thing aren't you? " He muses. You shake your head meekly, averting your gaze from his sweaty face and looking down to observe the rapid movements of your combined hands inside his boxers. 

"M'not wet" you mewl, eliciting a mocking laugh from the boy. He trails his kisses down the tempting length of your neck, the touch so sensual, it leaves you gasping. 

"I can feel your pretty little body squirming against me you know, makes me wanna force my dick inside you, where will you run if I do? " he asks, biting your collarbone when the slide of his dick gets wetter and squelchier. 

His words, instead of scaring you, make an inexplicable heat to ignite your insides. You want him to, you can't believe how bad you want him to act on his desires because you know you don't have the courage to act on your own. 

"f-fuck, pretty, moan for me baby, wanna hear you when I cum" He sighs into your neck, nipping at your skin and planting kisses in between his moans.

Hearing his words make you keen and he curses under his breath. The hold of his palm is brutal, your hand hurts but God does it feel good to hear him so desperate and needy, whining so hotly in your ear.

"fuck I'm so close so -ugh god-" His voice fades into a delicious moan and you can feel yourself dripping, your juices running down the length your thighs. 

You don't hold back on your sounds, letting small whimpers leave your mouth when he digs his teeth into your skin again. 

"Why won't you let me fuck you baby, wanna be the first to get inside your virgin little pussy so bad" He pants, supporting himself with a hand planted beside your head on the wall while he continues to masturbate using your flesh. 

It's exhilarating, it's hot, and it's so scandalous. 

"H-heeseung! " You moan when he lathers the skin of your neck with his saliva, tasting your skin like his life depends on it. 

"Sh-shit" He stutters, the lewd way you cry out his name make his eyes roll back to the back of his head. You gasp when you feel his hot length twitching repeatedly, warm, thick liquid covering your entire palm along with his own. 

His hips stutter a few more times inside your hold before stilling, a large sigh of satisfaction leaving his lips.

"Fucking hell baby, you always make me cum so hard" He whispers, chuckling to himself. 

He pulls your hand out of his boxers and wipes his hand off on his jeans, while you watch in silence with face turning crimson. He dresses himself and winks at you before walking out of the closet, leaving you standing there with your palm covered in his sticky, gooey cum. 

You feel used, but at least you’re useful for something. 

To say that you are sick of yourself would be an understatement. You feel violated, but some sick part of you enjoys being desired so wantonly. It turns you on. Heeseung doesn't love you, scratch that, he doesn't even like you but here you are, letting him use your body like some mindless sex toy anytime he damn well pleases. You wonder what that says about you. Sure, he's a jerk, but what are you?

You're lost in thoughts, walking home when a loud honk makes you jump on the sidewalk. You turn towards the car honking at you and come to a halt, facing the very familiar Volkswagen. 

There’s no way.

"Come on sweetheart, get inside" Jay grins at you from the inside of his car. You blink at a him a couple of time to really make sure that he's here. After the complete fiasco last night, you really weren't expecting to hear from him so fast. Or at all for that matter.

Nonetheless, he is here, and he's asking you to get inside his car. With your eyes downcast, you crawl towards it and slip inside the passenger seat, playing with your fingers while you avoid looking at him at all costs. He doesn't start the car, but you can feel the weight of his gaze on the side of your face. 

"I'm sorry about last night" He begins, and you can't help but look up at him astonished. Why was he sorry? You were the one who royally fucked up. 

He smiles at you apologetically and reaches out a hand to caresses your cheek by the back of it. If you weren't mentally screaming, you're sure you would have said something, and assured him that he has nothing to be sorry about. 

"I just, I shouldn't have tried to kiss you so fast, at least not without taking you on a date first. it's just that we've been friends for so long, and we both like each other, so it just seemed like the right thing to do" He explains, remorse dripping from his tone. You start to node your head in support of his sentiments when his words click inside your brain. 

Wait. 

"Y-you like me?" You blurt, cheeks flaming when his gaze falls to your mouth and he traces your bottom lip with his thumb. 

"So much that i forgot how to behave" He mutters in a trance, all his attention focused on fiddling with your plump and fleshy lower lip.

 

You blush at his words and avert your gaze back down to your lap, and he pulls his hand back. You want to whine at the loss of contact, enjoying too much being caressed so softly. When was the last time you were touched so gently?

"Before I try to kiss you again, because I will, you're too pretty to resist- he chuckles, and you try to bite back the smile that's threatening to break free on your face- would you like to go on an aquarium date with me? A little birdy told me that is your dream date" He grins at you, wiggling his eyebrows when you look into his kind eyes, and you let your giggles take over your body. The fact that he remembers your random rant from months ago shoots a giddy feeling through your heart. It feels good being remembered. 

"How about tomorrow? Skip college and let me take you out? " He suggests and you nod rapidly, almost detaching your neck from its socket. Jay only laughs at you endearingly, and it makes you blush even more. 

He drops you off at the same building as last night again, and both of you are grinning from ear to ear when he drives off. You're sure you catch a few stray looks from the passerbys when they see you beaming and giggling like an idiot as you walk back home with an obvious skip in your step. It’s ridiculous, really, but it feels good to have something to look forward to in a very long time.

You sigh loudly when you remember the promise you made to jihoon this morning. You're mentally calculating the time you have prior to when you need to be at the cafe, when Suzy's door opens before you can even knock on it, and out comes your little brother, bounding, and giggling in a high pitched scream.

You squat down to catch him in your arms before he can collide with your legs. 

"Looks like someone missed me" You giggle, hugging the little life close to your body, sighing upon inhaling the familiar scent of his baby powder. 

"Missed yew" He mumbles into your throat, his little hands wrapped around your neck, and you can’t help but coo at him in adoration. "Missed you too my baby, y/n loves you so much"

"He has been so excited the entire day, he wouldn't even eat until I told him you'll be mad if he didn't" Suzy tells you, coming out of her house with jihoon's water bottle in her hand. You laugh at her words, and pick your brother up in your arms while he continues to nuzzle into you. 

"I'll take him to the park for a bit, I have about an hour before my shift starts" You inform her and she nods at you, running her experienced warm eyes over your face.

 

"You look happy darling" She notes and you can't help the blush that dusts your cheeks at her words. She apparently notices , cooing at how shy you are all of a sudden.

"is it a boy y/n, yes or no?" She asks, a teasing lilt in her voice and you bite your lower lip, nodding in a giddy manner. 

"It is, I have a date tomorrow" you admit, unable to conceal the excitement in your voice. She gasps and pats your head "what a fortunate man he'll be to have someone as amazing as you darling" She whispers, pure emotion shining in her eyes.

 

You swallow the lump forming in your throat at her words, averting your gaze and mumbling a small thank you. No, you refuse to cry today, you had your fill of indulging in your emotions yesterday.

So, you push her words to the recess of your mind, where you securely encase them in a metaphorical box, stacking it up on a bunch of age old boxes. Emotions that you adamantly refused to confront and deal with, a stance that you still maintain.

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As you sit staring at your wardrobe, a sense of urgency washes over you and you come to two stark realizations. 

Firstly, you need to buy more clothes. The sparse collection of garments hanging before you testified to this necessity.

 

Secondly, and perhaps more pressing, was the acute awareness that none of what you have is remotely suitable for a date.

Jay is supposed to pick you up in a mere hour and you don't have anything to wear. Well, there's a blue halter neck dress that you wore for freshmen party in your first year, which you're sure doesn't fit you now. There's 3 silk pressed shirts which you alternate at your college, a handful of skirts and a scattering of sweaters. 

And that's it. 

You're about to cry when you feel a wave of panic rising within you. You’re o utterly unprepared for this moment.

As the crushing clarity threatens to overwhelm you, a pang of longing sweeps through you. You wish you had a girlfriend. It's not like you don't have friends, you talk to several people in school, be it for work or just casual chatting , but that's about it. Your relations with other people end as soon as you step out of your university building. Of course, you know that it's your own fault that you don't have anyone in your life, you never really put in the effort to keep up with someone, a casualty of your own reluctance to invest in deeper connections.

Whenever someone tries to delve deeper into your life, you just push back, and you push back hard. You are too consumed with your own life, you suppose. It's not that you have never had any friends either, you have had quite a lot, in fact, you even had a best friend in middle school. Time really changed you as a person though, its not to say that she didn't change either, time changes everyone, but your change had been tangible. You just let everyone go, choosing to stay in your own miserable bubble, blocking all attempts of reaching out or any support that you so desperately needed. Each flicker of friendship extinguished, each bond severed, bore the weight of your own self imposed isolation. You did this to yourself, you weren't a victim of circumstances no matter how much self pity you reserve for yourself. You were the architect of your own solitude, barricading yourself within the confines of your melancholic safety. You tell yourself that it’s better this way, that you don’t need anyone, but how long can you fool yourself?

The halter dress is the only option left for you it seems. 

The dress is not tight, but anyone looking at it can tell that it's not made to fit your body either. It's not revealing, but you can't call it modest either, at least by your standards, you don't think you've ever shown so much skin before. The blue one piece ends smack in the middle of your thighs, your chest is covered for the most part, and the long sleeves cover up your arms. If it's not for the unfamiliar sight of your bare legs, everything looks quite normal, you don't look hideous so that's a relief. 

You opt for leaving your hairs open, because last time you did that, Jay tried to kiss you. 

You wait for Jay at the entrance of your false residence. If he finds it odd that you're already outside, he doesn't comment on it, and you're grateful for that. 

"Wow" Jay says as soon as you enter his car “ you look so hot”, making your ears turn bright red. 

"T-thank you" you mumble, trying not to be bothered by how blatantly he is ogling at your exposed thighs, or how his eyes linger due to your dress riding upwards when you sit down. 

You both make casual conversation during the drive, and it's comfortable, the casual back and forth just like old friends. You can get used to this, you tell yourself.

The aquarium that he takes you to is bigger than your entire university building, so pretty and so enchanting, you almost lose track of time. Ever since you were little, you have dreamed of visiting one, you remember writing the same in one of your introductory papers in second semester, a paper that was discussed in class as well. How jay managed to remember that is beyond you tho. Throughout the date, he keeps you updated on every thing that you come across, and it feels good to have his attention completely focused on you. You almost combust when he takes you to a restaurant after the aquarium date, thoroughly flabbergasted because you've never been on a date before. 

The experience is something you will never forget, your first date, the thought makes you feel ecstatic, the wide smile on your face which refuses to go away is a testament to that. 

Turns out, your first kiss happens in the same night as well. As soon as Jay parks his car outside your trademark building, he's all over you. He doesn't ask you, he just leans over to you and smashes his lips against yours, tasting your hot mouth eagerly. You don't know what you're doing, your hands are placed awkwardly over his chest while you try to move your lips against his, mimicking his movements to the best of your ability. He doesn't seem bothered by your lack of skills tho, just diving into your mouth with his tongue, one hand cupping your face while with the other, he gropes your thighs. 

You push back your discomfort and revel in the feeling of his touch, gasping when he bites into your lower lip. He tastes like the wine you drank at the restaurant and you wonder if you taste the same to him. 

The kiss ends too soon for your liking, but, the feeling of his dark eyes and rough hands running all over the length of your body shamelessly, follows you back home. 

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You ignore heeseung's calls for the next few days, almost contemplating blocking his number once and for all, but for some reason, you can’t bring yourself to do it.

Your dates with Jay continue, and you do manage to buy yourself a new dress. You’re doing well for your first relationship, if you can even call it that.

Even though Jay does seem to love kissing you, never in a million did you ever think that you'd find yourself in such a compromising position. However, here you are, sitting on Jay's lap in the middle of class while he eats your face. Yes, he's actually devouring your mouth, tongue buried so deep into your throat that the feeling has you arching your body into him. 

What makes the experience more thrilling is the audience you have. Your classmates had collectively gasped when Jay pulled you onto his lap seemingly out of nowhere. But, it isn't them that you are worried about. It's the boy at the back of the class with a perfect scowl etched onto his handsome face as he watches you make out with someone that's not him. 

Heeseung looks livid and you wonder why. Is he upset because he thinks you aren't a virgin anymore? 

Jay lets you go with a smirk when the professor announces his presence, and you rush to your seat that's right in front of the scowling boy, in a daze. It's actually amazing how he ignores you the entire lecture, something that has never happened before. what's more unsettling is the fact that you are mildly disappointed by that. 

You want to ask him what he's upset about, but you aren't able to gather the courage to. As much as heeseung's a constant itch at the back of your head, you remind yourself that you're dating Jay now, so you can't be thinking about other men. 

You're dating Jay now. You're dating Jay. You're dating. 

None of those sentences sound real to you. 

However, the giddy feeling inside your chest dwindles as Jay gets more and more touchy throughout the entire day. You can't tell if it's normal to grope your chest just a few days after you had your first kiss, but you don't want to make him upset again. You don’t like seeing him angry. Besides, isn't this what you always wanted? Someone to want you, someone to love you? 

And haven't you let Heeseung do worse things to you anyway? Why haven't you ever felt such discomfort when Heeseung used your body to get himself off? . But the truth is, has Heeseung ever touched you this way? Sure he sends you inappropriate messages that are borderline harassment, sure he used your hand to jerk himself off once, sure he wants your virginity and he has made his intentions clear, but has he ever ventured beneath your clothes before? 

He has never groped your body before, not like Jay is doing. Now that you think about it, heeseung has never even kissed you before. Your mind makes countless comparisons between Heeseung and Jay, and you wonder why you do that to yourself. Were you really comparing the guy whose whole purpose of pursuing you was to pop your cherry and wear it like a symbol of achievement, to the boy that likes you and took you to your dream date? 

A gasp leaves your throat when jay grabs your ass, smacking it and making you yelp between harsh kisses. You're glad you're in his car and not outside, glad that people aren't there to witness you being touched like this.

"You're so pretty" He whispers in your ear, and so you latch onto his words and overlook his actions.

 

Now that you have someone who likes you back, do you really want to push him away? Do you want to let your useless self doubt and trust issues stop you from living your life yet again? No. 

Thus, you push your discomfort to the back of your mind when his hand travels under your skirt at one point. 

"It's normal y/n, don't make a fool of yourself" you chant in your head, trying to enjoy the feeling of being wanted. 

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“We never really talk.... There's so much we still don't know about each other" your voice is meek, feeling hesitant to say your thoughts out loud in case you end up upsetting jay; which you seem to be doing a lot, to be honest. 

The said boy groans from the seat in front of you where he's busy on his phone, completely facing away from you. 

"We know plenty" He quips, not even sparing you a glance, and you bite your lower lip to stop yourself from thinking too much about it. Maybe he just isn't in the mood today? But again, when is he ever in a mood? 

All you do is make out, and when things get heated, you always pull away. Then he gets agitated, and doesn't talk to you for days. It fucks with your head, but you go along, and even though you don't feel comfortable, you start letting him touch you more, and even though your body is taut with tension, he never seems to care. 

You want to tell him about your brother, want to share little things you do together and what makes you happy, and ask what his favorite color is.

However, the opportunity never seems to come. 

Your mind drifts off to heeseung, and the little notes he used to throw at the back of your head during last semester. 

"Do you like roses or lilies?"

"Do you sleep on your stomach or side? "

"Are you going to the town fair?"

You remember ignoring him back then, but now your heart constricts. Even if he was just trying to bother you, those questions were probably the only time someone had tried to get to know you. You don't know what it is about heeseung, but everybody just looks at you, he's the only one who has ever made you feel seen. Maybe in another universe you would push aside your shyness and answer those notes. Maybe in another universe you would throw some notes back at him, asking things that you wanna know. 

"I like tulips... But lilies are good too"

"I sleep on my back, sleeping in any other position makes me sore, I don't know why tho"

"I'm not going to the town fair, I have to stay home with my brother, he's really small"

But it's too late now, and you swallow down your words, squash the need to talk to someone, and resort to the heavy silence that is your life. 

Heeseung is about to fly off the handle. The sight of you in another man's arms shouldn't bother him this much and yet, it does. The fact that you're ignoring his calls and messages makes him feel slightly insane. It shouldn't be like this. You are just a bet. A pick. Just another name on the list. 

Then why the fuck is he this close to smashing jay's annoying face in. It isn't even about your virginity anymore, and that's what bothers him the most. 

He hates it, hates that he's so affected by you, but he should have seen it coming,to be honest. With the way he stays up late just to jerk off to your pretty face, no girl has ever drove him this close to insanity before. The lust he feels for you is blinding and all consuming. It burns him, the desire he feels for you scorches him from the inside. It unsettles him how badly you’ve managed to turn him into a slave to your big, doe eyes.

Therefore, when he catches you alone in the classroom after three whole weeks of you ignoring his presence, he just can't help himself. It’s unfair how fucking pretty you look standing near the while board, scribbling something down onto your notebook while trying to setup the projector for your presentation later.

The sound of the classroom door being shut makes you jump, but the reason makes cold dread run inside your chest. Heeseung looks like a predator as he advances on your figure, eyes dark in lust and the vein in his neck throbbing with anger. His hands itch with the desire to touch you, it's been way too long for his liking since he last felt you close. 

Before you can say anything or do anything, he's on you. The feeling of his lips against yours is electrifying,it feels like your entire body comes alive at the contact. His kiss is surprisingly slow and more bruising than you've ever been kissed before. His hands wrap around your waist and he pulls you closer to himself, tilting his head to trace your lower lip with his tongue, waiting for you to let him in. 

You should push him away but you don't. You can't. Your head is dizzy with a passion you've only ever felt with him, your arms wrapping around his neck as you push yourself closer to his firm body, opening your mouth and letting him tangle his tongue with yours. The moan that leaves your mouth at the feeling makes his slacks tighten, his dick hard and throbbing inside his trousers. 

You taste so fucking addicting, Heeseung doesn't wanna stop kissing and tasting your warm mouth. 

When he pulls away to breathe, you're both panting heavily, his forehead resting against yours, dark eyes staring into your soul. 

"I don't like when someone ignores me y/n" He growls, his voice sharp and hoarse from desire. The feeling of his hard on digging into your stomach makes you squirm. 

"I - I have a boyfriend, I shouldn't be talking to you" You manage to let out, biting back another moan when he grinds a bit into you. 

Heeseung feels hot rage flash across his chest at your words. 

"Oh yeah? He got his dick inside you yet?" He asks, his words making you blanch. How was he always so vulgar?

 

"That's, that's none of your business" You splutter, looking anywhere but his eyes. 

His hold tightens around your waist and he continues to grind his hard on against your soft flesh.

 

"I'll take that as a no, fuck, still a virgin aren't you baby?" he guesses.

You avoid looking at him and it only spurs him on further, his hold tightens around your body the more that you try to maintain some space.

"What a loser, if I was him, I would have buried myself into that tight little cunt of yours on the first night of our date" He whispers, and for some reason, his words excite you instead of disgusting you. A sick tingle runs down your spine and throbs between your legs.

"H-he's not like you" You quip, looking up into his eyes to get your point across "he doesn't want me for my body, he loves me for me"

Your words seem to make him angry, if the slight clench of his jaw is anything to go by. 

He stops moving against you and scoffs. 

"Loves you? What do you know about being loved y/n? " 

His tone is mocking, and eyes full of unfiltered rage, the words spoken with an intention to hurt. And hurt, they do. You wonder how he knows the exact place to strike to make pain ricochet so wildly inside your ribs. 

What do you know about being loved? Nothing, you suppose. How do you recognize love if you have never seen it before? or do you just accept everything that comes to you as love because you don't have any option to? do you just cling onto every act of kindness because of how much you want it to be love? 

What do you know about being loved indeed. 

Seeing your face fall makes heeseung regret his words almost instantly, the sight of your big eyes blinking up at him so solemnly makes his heart twist uncomfortably. What the fuck? 

Before he can apologize, however, your small hands slide down to push against his chest, and he lets you go. He doesn't stop you when you collect your assignment that you'd been working on when he barged in, your gaze downcast and shoulders slumped as if heavy from the weight of his words. 

The urge to pull you into his arms hits him as he watches you leave, but he's too much of a coward for that.

Because no matter how much he wants himself to believe it, 

You aren't just a name on the list, you never have been.

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The atmosphere feels different today. You took a day off from college just to spend time with Jay, and although it makes you feel guilty that you left jihoon with suzy for the entire day, you can't help but be selfish for once. 

All of this feels like a fever dream and you want to enjoy it before your alarm rings and you’re thrust back into the harsh reality once again.

Jay took you back to the aquarium, then you both went to the beach that his dad owned, and you were having so much fun that you just couldn't say no when he asked you to stay the night at his place. "No funny business" He assured. 

But that didn't last long. 

You whined into his mouth as his rough palms travelled beneath your silky sundress, sundress that he brought for you. "The yellow really suits your skin, wanna kiss you stupid" He had said, leaving you a flustered mess. 

"I'm gonna take this off baby" Jay whispers into your mouth, sitting back up and sliding your dress up your legs without waiting for your answer. 

You squirm in anxiety and embarrassment when he exposes your panties to his curious eyes. You want to cover yourself, you want to hide, but his firm hold on your waist keeps you down and under his mercy. 

He slides your dress further up your stomach and then it happens. Your worst nightmare comes true. His eye brows furrow and you watch in dread as his entire face shuts down. 

"Let's turn the lights off" He says, and you don't know what's worse, the way he eyes your body in distaste , or the way he pulls your dress down to cover you up. 

"Why? " You manage to ask, swallowing the lump forming in your throat. You know why, you just want to hear it. You want to hear him say it so that your illusion can shatter once and for all. 

Jay looks away and sighs, his jaw ticking in frustration "because that's how I like to have sex" He replies, his tone smooth, but you are anything but stupid. 

You sit up and bite on your wobbly lower lip, smoothing down your dress on your thighs with shaky hands.

 

"You don’t like what you saw" You whisper, barely audible, but he hears you alright. His nostrils flare as he finally turns to face you, looking angry and terrifying. 

"Do you have to be so damn difficult all the fucking time you stupid bitch? I'm trying not to be mean but you wanna hear how much your body's turning me off to your face? " He grits, hands coming down to grab your thighs and spreading your legs open. A sob escapes your lips at his words and you hit his chest to push him away

"I w-want to go home" You cry, sobbing more when he grunts in anger and slaps your face, pinning you down by your throat while he pushes you down onto your back, and straddles your thighs. 

"Wasted so much of my fucking time on you, and now you want to go home? Right when I'm this close to being the first one who's gonna scratch your name off the list? "

Your heart stops at the implication of his words, pure disgust and terror runs through your veins.Your eyes fill up with more tears and you start using your full body strength, squirming and flailing, somehow managing to hit him in the shins with your knee. He howls in pain and rolls off of you , cussing you out.

"Fucking bitch" He growls, but you don't stay or look back, grabbing your phone and running as fast as you can. You hear his footsteps chasing you, but the adrenaline pushes you forward even though your vision is blurry with how much you're crying.

How you managed to open his house's main gate is beyond you, but once you are out in the open, the night air hitting your wet cheeks, that's when you come to a halt. You don't know how far or how long you ran, you don't see any people around, just luxurious houses standing tall, and it makes you sob more. You don't see Jay chasing you down the road so that calms your heart a little, but soon, the gravity of your situation sinks in. You almost got raped. 

The thought makes your knees wobble and you unceremoniously collapse onto the sidewalk, your back resting against a cold metal pole. Your hands shake and sobs wrack your entire body, feeling intense pain coursing through your bones. 

You were jay's pick too. How could you have been so blind to the signs? Him approaching you out of the blue, just a few weeks after the list got released distributed. if you weren't blinded by your stupid feelings, you would have seen it as clear as day. He wanted your virginity. Just like Heeseung. 

He didn't like you as you had deluded yourself into thinking.

The disgust on his face when he saw the stretch marks littering the lining of your stomach, it was so palpable it made you flinch.

 

Was he going to fuck you just for the sake of winning the game? Is your virginity really all that? But who are you kidding, all this time, you have held onto your virginity so desperately because you know that it's the only thing that makes you desirable, doesn't it? It's the only reason Heeseung wants you, it's the only reason Jay pursued you, what even are you without your virginity? Once you lose it, you'll fade into the background again. 

No more delusions. Just plain, cruel reality. 

The hurt you feel is something that you brought upon yourself. Did you not know yourself? How could you ever, even for a second, except someone to love this version of you? When even you can't look at your body without disgust, why did you expect Jay to? 

As your sobs quite down and turn into small sniffles, you dial Heeseung's number and let your phone ring. This is it, you think to yourself, heart oddly calm when he picks up on the second ring. 

"Hey sweetheart, this is the first time you have called me on y-

"Do you still want to fuck me? " You ask, your voice hoarse and monotonous. 

You hear a sudden clatter of something falling down on the other end of the line, like he dropped something, taken off guard by the suddenness of your question. 

"I-yeah-i mean what? are you okay baby? " He splutters, and your head throbs, you look around yourself and don't even recognize where you are.

 

"can you pick me up? I know it's late, but i think I'm lost, you can fuck me as payment, I'm still a virgin" You explain. And somehow, hearing you talk about yourself like a commodity rubs Heeseung the wrong way. What's going on with you? You don't even sound like the y/n he knows.

 

"Where are you baby? " He asks, and if you didn't know any better, you would say that he sounds concerned. 

"I don't know.. there's a beach nearby.... and the area looks expensive, but i can't tell what street-

"send me your location from the maps baby, I'll be right there, just stay where you are " He warns before hanging up. 

You want to smack your head against concrete, so much for being an academic weapon, why didn't you think about sharing your location before. 

You rub your bare arms to keep yourself warm. Apparently, the dress isn't as warm against the night cold as it seemed to be inside the warmth of the house. 

Somehow, this decision feels right. Heeseung has been the only person who has been honest about his intentions with you from the very beginning. Although it was the exact same thing that Jay wanted, but still, it feels right to let Heeseung take your virginity instead of anybody else. You want this miserable fallacy of want and desire to end. And for that, you are going to give away the only thing that makes you special. Sounds like a perfect plan to you. 

After what seems like an eternity, a blue Toyota stops right in front of you. 

You don't even glance at it twice, just staring blankly at your feet, until you hear the driver's door open, and shoes come into your line of vision. You don't even have a chance to look up before heeseung's gathering you into his arms

"Holy fuck you're freezing baby" He exclaims, picking up your numb body as you cling onto him for life, you can barely feel your legs. Heeseung lays you down in the back seat, and instantly turns the heater on. A cold shiver runs up your spine at the sudden temperature change, your eyes falling shut on their own, and everything around you fades into darkness. You want to sleep a very long sleep. 

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Heeseung looks at your body in his back seat, anxiety coiling in his stomach at the sight of you being curled up into a fetus position. Even as he drives, he can't concentrate on anything else, because he's pretty sure he saw a red mark on your left cheek, like someone hit you. Hard. 

He's hoping he's wrong, because the rage building up in his chest is inexplicable.

There's dry mascara tracks running down your cheeks so he figures that you must have been crying, and he can't help the sick jolt he feels in his cock at the thought. 

The yellow dress you're wearing is riding all the way upto your thighs, and Heeseung can feel his throat getting parched. So much skin. He's never seen you this exposed before. He wants to touch you, wants to run his palm over

your smooth skin and kiss you till you're moaning into his mouth , and he wants to take you up on that offer you made on the phone, he wants to see for himself how pretty you look while crying. 

He curses himself for having such thoughts when you're clearly not okay, but Heeseung's no saint. He’s never claimed to be one either. 

He knows that if you asked him to take your virginity to his face, he will ravage you on the spot, it won't matter that you seem to be in pain. He'll make you forget everything and fill you with pure pleasure the entire night. 

He's not a man of morals, and he's never pretended to be one. 

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You wake up with a start, breathing heavily while your eyes adjust to the view around you. The unfamiliar soft sheets, the tasteful and expensive decor of the room, it all intimidated you somehow. You called heeseung, that's all that you remember, everything after that is a blur. Is this jay's room? Did he find you again? 

Your heart's beating really fast, threatening to give up on you as you look down and see yourself in a white linen shirt instead of the dress that you were wearing instead. What the fuck happened. 

You instinctively reach between your legs and it doesn't hurt, your panties are dry and intact. So, this isn't jay's house or clothes. The familiar cologne fills up your senses once you take a whiff of the shirt you're wearing, and it all makes sense. Heeseung. 

This is heeseung's house, and his room probably, definitely his shirt. Did he change you out of your dress? Was he as disgusted as jay when he saw the mess that you were underneath your clothes?

You look around yourself and sigh in relief at finding your phone on the bedside table, exhaling the breath that you didn't know you have been holding. 

Before you can reach for it tho, the door to the room opens. You pull the sheets closer to your chest when Heeseung peeks in. He seems a little taken aback at seeing you awake and sitting up , looking like he caught you in the middle of doing something. 

"Thank god you're up baby, thought you’d die on me" He grins, coming inside and closing the door behind him. Suddenly, the room feels small for just the two of you, your fingers wringing nervously when he takes a seat next to you, his hands coming up to cup your cheeks. 

You bite back a pained whimper at the pressure against your left cheek, Jay must have hit you really hard, the skin still sensitive and stinging at the slightest of touch. Heeseung seems to notice your discomfort and removes that hand instantly, choosing to caress the other side of your face instead. 

"I need to know that you're okay sweetheart" He says, urging you to speak. But you don't know what you're supposed to say, you aren't okay, obviously, but this is better than everything else so you suppose you are. You choose to nod instead. 

He hums and slides more closer to you, forcing you to look into his eyes, his face so close that if you leaned forward just a bit, your lips would collide. 

"Do you want to tell me what happened? Who did this to you?" He asks, and you are taken aback by the softness in his touch and words. But you'd be a fool if you fall for that again. 

Hence, you take hold of his free hand instead, watching how his eyes immediately fall to your tight grip, watching in rapt attention as you guide his hand under your shirt, and between your legs. Heeseung's eyes instantly darken when his hand comes into contact with your panty clad pussy, a few choice words leaving his mouth when you gasp at his touch. 

Fuck. He likes this bold version of you. 

His eyes meet yours, and hot arousal pools in his lower stomach at the way you're looking at him, eyes blown out in lust and desperation.

"It doesn't matter" You whisper, inching closer to his face, and planting a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth "just want you to fuck me and show me how good sex can feel" 

A deep grunt leaves his chest at your words, and the next thing you know, his hungry mouth is latched on yours, the force of his actions making you hit your back against the bed sheets while he mounts your body, his palm still cupping the centre of your legs. He kisses you like he's been deprived of you for so long. All thoughts of your well being leave his mind, focus locked onto the sinful words you just whispered into his ear. His tongue dives into your mouth and you give him free access, both of you exchanging spit messily. You mewl into his kiss, your body squirming pathetically when he starts rubbing your clit from above your panties, applying just the right amount of pleasure to leave you gasping. 

You're just about to thread your fingers in his silky strands when the familiar ringtone of your phone makes you jolt. He ignores the sound like he can't even hear it, tongue too busy sucking yours, the movement of his thumb getting faster and harder. 

You can't ignore the sound tho, there aren't many people who call you. So, when your phone rings for the second time, you know it's important. You push against his chest, and he pulls away, panting heavily while he stares at you, brows furrowed in confusion. 

You swallow the spit pooling in your mouth as you watch him gathering your saliva coating his lips and sucking it into his own. How does he make everything seem so hot and nasty?

"Sorry, i- i have to take that" you whisper, motioning towards your blaring phone. Heeseung grabs it from the nightstand and hands it over to you instantly "make it fast baby" He grunts, retreating his hand from between your legs and settling on groping the soft flesh of your thighs instead. 

You nod, and curse when you see Suzy's name. Fuck. Fuck. You never thought about informing her of your whereabouts. She must have been waiting for you. Jihoon must be waiting for you. With an apology on the top of your tongue, you swipe right.

"Hey suzy, I'm sorr-

"Y/n, your dad is back and you need to come back right now" Her terrified voice cuts you off. Panic takes hold of your spine, and you instinctively get out of the bed, standing up to calm down your heart. You can feel heeseung's inquisitive gaze on you, but you can't be bothered with keeping up appearances right now. 

"What do u mean? Why do u sound scared?" You ask her, tears gathering at your waterline, because as much as you want to stay calm, the terror grips hold of your heart. It’s never good when your dad is back.

There's some shuffling on the other side, and your heart drops when you recognize jihoon's sobs, and Suzy's coos trying to shush him down. 

"What's going on?!" you can't help but raise your voice, even though it quivers. 

"Listen y/n, I think he came back a few hours ago, but when he didn't find you at home he came banging on my door, asking me where you were. And he was drunk out of his mind, but he heard jihoon's voice and now he is not leaving. He keeps banging on the windows, and asking for his son, I don't know what to do. I kept calling you, and you didn't pick up. I'm going to call the police, but jihoon is not my child y/n, you have to come back right now" More shuffling, and a loud thudding sound cuts the call off, making your heart beat out of your chest. 

"Suzy??, suzy?!" No response. You look around in panic, meeting Heeseung's worried eyes. 

"Pants, can you lend me some pants please" you ask him, tears dripping down your face. You're panicking so hard right now, your fingers feel numb. Heeseung scrambles to his feet immediately, and noticing your shaking hands, he helps you inside them himself, folding them so they don’t restrict your movement. 

"Thank you, can you- you fret- can you please, please drop me to my house. I know I promised I'd let you fuck me but I really need-

His soft lips interrupt your rant while he kisses you tenderly and cups your face, wiping your tears with the pads of his thumbs "address, baby" 

And this time, you tell him your real one. 

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You keep dialing Suzy's number the entire ride home but she doesn't pick up. If Heeseung hears you quietly sobbing, he doesn't mention it. You guide him to your house, and are thankful for the distraction his fingers provide as he draws random patterns on your thigh with his free hand.

You don't believe in God, you never have, but somehow , in this moment, you pray to whatever power is out there, if there is any, to keep your brother safe. You don't care about anything else. Just keep your little love safe.

Heeseung doesn't make small talk, doesn't ask questions, and you find that so comforting, it makes you wanna sob your heart out in his car. 

The way he doesn’t look even slightly disgruntled by the state of your house or your neighborhood makes you want to tell him all about that you've been going through while he says nothing at all. It's been so long since someone listened to you, you know, just for the sake of listening, to take some burden off of your heavy heart. 

You don't question it when heeseung gets out of his car with you, letting him follow you to Suzy's house. You don't even trust heeseung like that, but knowing that he's right behind gives you a silent strength.

Your dad's slumped on the front porch, one baseball bat clutched in one hand, and rubbing his face with the other. To say that he disgusts you, would be an understatement. How could you have ever loved this man? You haven't seen your father in so long, he got lost behind the violent person with red raging eyes a very long time ago. This man in front of you isn't your dad. 

His bleary eyes fall on you, and he instantly stumbles onto his feet, pointing the bat at you. 

"Where have you been you little whore" He hisses, his red eyes looking at you in pure hatred. 

"What do you want dad?" You ask, fighting away any shakiness that manages to creeps into your words. Your heart is beating fast, you need to make sure that jihoon is safe, but the lack of noise from inside the house scares you. 

"Where's my money?" He demands gruffly, taking a few steps towards you. You don't stumble back like you usually do, trying to hold your ground. 

"There's no money dad, there's nothing for you here" You quip. Your words seem to anger him more, his nostrils flare, and he points the bat at the house "bring that little bitch out, I know you're hiding him inside, if you won't make me money, he will" He spits, and you can't believe your ears, hot tears dribble down your cheeks, blurring your vision of him.

 

"What the fuck is wrong with you?? Have you got no amount of shame left in you? "

A yelp resounds from your throat when your father grabs hold of your wrist all of a sudden, pulling you close, boring his threatening eyes into yours. You wince at the smell of alcohol on his breath. 

"The fuck did you just say to me you little slut- he twists your arm, making you cry out in pain, you try pulling yourself away but he only tightens his hold on your arm- do u want me to break your ribs like I did with your whore moth- it all happens so fast, the grip on your arm loosens, a scream rips through the air, your dad falls to the ground. And then there's silence. 

You stare in disbelief at the boy straddling over your dad's unconscious body, wiping his bloody knuckles on his jeans. He punches your dad's face twice more, then kicks him to roll him over while he stands back up. 

At that point he turns to you, and you start sobbing. Heeseung is about to open his mouth to apologize for punching your dad unconscious, panicking that he did something wrong when you're pulling him into you, smashing your lips against his, kissing him with all that you've got. 

Heeseung is taken aback, his eyes widening when your taste invades his mouth, but he recovers almost instantly and pulls you close to his body, kissing you back just as hard. The kiss is wet and salty because of how much you're crying, but he couldn't care less.

 

You're both breathing heavily when you pull apart, eyes widening when you hear Suzy's door click open. Jihoon! 

You leave Heeseung standing on the porch, running to suzy when she comes outside "jihoon?" you question, your voice out of breath. 

She glances at Heeseung, and then at your dad, before looking back at you.

"He fell asleep while crying, I think he got one of his seizures y/n, all the shouting really scared him" she explains, and you cup your mouth, more tears prick your eyes, feeling your heart break all over again. 

It's been years since your brother got his last seizure attack because of trauma triggers. You have managed to keep him away from all his triggers, except this time. All because you were selfish, and wanted to stay the night away. Your life has to be one long, never ending sick joke. 

"where's he?" you ask, your voice feeble, you're afraid you'll start screaming if you aren't careful. 

"In the spare bedroom, go, I'll take care of him" She says, motioning towards your dad. 

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The time span between carrying your brother home to tuck his sleeping figure inside his buzz Light year sheets, while suzy takes care of informing the police and calling the ambulance for your unconscious, and injured dad is a blur for you. 

Heeseung doesn't get in trouble because you vouch for the attack being in self defense, your dad's history of abuse and drinking helps your case. 

After all cars are gone, and you finally breathe a sigh of relief, you realize that Heeseung is still here. Your heart feels full when you look at his unruly appearance, and you don't want to admit the yearning you feel for him right at this moment. He's the first person besides suzy to witness the shit show that is your life, and you wonder why isn't gone yet. 

And then you remember. Right, your virginity. How can you forget. 

You find him leaning against your kitchen counter, hands in pocket as he waits for you. He looks so out of place standing in your small kitchen, the light bulb swinging above his head makes his skin glow, and you can't help but be attracted towards him like a moth drawn to the flame. His eyes find yours as soon as you round the corner to your kitchen, and they stay. This look is different.

He's looking at you like he's seeing you for the first time. 

You take tentative steps towards his figure, fiddling with the long sleeves of his shirt that you're wearing. You don't even get to open your mouth before he's pulling you closer to him, his one hand wrapping around your waist while he cups your cheek with the other, swallowing the gasp that escapes your lips at the sudden touch. 

He kisses you like you're the air that he breathes, his tongue dipping and tasting all crevices of your warm mouth. You fist the shirt on his chest, and tilt your head to deepen the kiss, whining into his famished mouth. 

The kiss is everything you've ever wanted. It's not rushed, but it's needy. The passion dripping from his lips renders you boneless, and you lean further into him. The exhaustion seeping inside your bones seems to get heavy with each languid stroke of his tongue, and you don't realize when the tears start falling down your cheeks. He doesn't pull back tho, just trails his kisses upto your face, swallowing your tears as he pulls you flush to his body, dissipating any ounce of space that was left between you two. 

When you pull apart, your mouths are connected by a string of saliva, hot pants escaping your chests. He rests his forehead against yours, and caresses your face by the back of his hand, cooing when you bite your lower lip to stop the tears from falling again. 

You're exhausted. You're dead tired and his touch seems to be your undoing, setting all your emotions free, the severity of all the events that happened in the last twelve hours hitting you all at once. 

"Let me fuck your pain away, baby" He whispers, and in that moment, you can't seem to resist falling into the familiar comfort of delusion. You know that once you let him fuck you, he'll lose interest, but you need it now. You want to bask in his affection and call it love. You want to experience feeling loved and wanted before it's inevitably snatched away from you. 

"fuck me" you whisper back, wrapping your arms around his shoulders when he groans and leans into your mouth again. Heeseung feels like a fucking jerk, but seeing you so helpless, and in dire need of his touch makes him delirious.

 

This is a new feeling. This desire to be needed by you.

He would not admit it to you, but he relishes in the fact that you're alone, and in so much pain. It makes it easier for him to show you how much you need him. He wants you to keep him, crave him like he does you. 

You gasp into his mouth when he hoists you up into his arms, your tiny figure melting into his touch. He loves it, loves how easy you are. 

He might be taking advantage of your pain and vulnerability, but he only wants you to want him just as badly as every bone in his body wants you. 

Your back hits the couch, and you stare up at him with wide eyes as he hovers over you, a lustful glint in them that drives him nuts. Your hands bunch up the shirt on his chest, and you pull him back into you again, not getting enough of his lips on yours. 

You love how dizzy his touches are making you, your body arching into him when he gropes your curves, his hands all over you.

"Wanna see you naked" He whispers, and your heart plummets into your stomach. A sinking feeling beginning to form a pit inside your chest. No, it can't be happening again. 

He must see the hesitance on your face, because he's caressing your cheek again, so softly and so gently, you almost mistake it for genuine care, but you know better. 

"What is it?" He asks, planting few pecks on your pouty and swollen lips. 

You twiddle with the button of his shirt, and avoid eye contact. 

"C-can we turn the lights off? looking at me might turn you off" you manage to mumble, the words burning your throat on their way out .However, you're done lying to yourself. 

Heeseung doesn't say anything, and you peek up to see his face. He is looking at you like you've grown two heads. It makes you feel self conscious, your ears burning in humiliation, feeling like you ruined the mood already. 

"You're beautiful" He blurts, eyes still fixed on you in disbelief, he can't fathom you thinking such a thing about yourself. Him? Getting turned off by you? He has not heard a more ridiculous thing in his life before.

Your eyes snap up to him at his words and you furrow your brows in irritation.

"You don't have to lie to get inside my pants I al-"

"I've jerked off to your face" He cuts you off. Your mouth splutters like a fish as you blink up at him, trying to process his words. 

He's still staring at you, eyes dark and deep.

"Jerked off just to your face. Not even your body. you're so beautiful I get hard by the mere thought of you" 

You don't know whether to laugh or cry. Only Heeseung can say such things and make them feel like a compliment. You can't help the giggle that escapes your lips, and you hide your face into your hands.

"God, you're unbelievable" you groan between your giggles, unknown to the fact that heeseung's currently losing his damn mind on top of you. In that moment he realises, that he's never made you laugh before. You have never looked up at him and giggled before. The sound shoots straight to his hardening cock and spreads a warm feeling inside of his chest. He can't believe how overwhelming this sudden emotion is, and he isn’t sure where this sudden influx of affection for you is coming from. However, there’s one thing heeseung’s sure about, and it’s the fact that he loves this sight more than he loves to see you crying. And that's saying a lot. 

He swallows thickly when you remove your hands from in front of your face, and smile up at him, chewing on your lower lip as the blush on your cheeks darkens

"This might be most romantic thing someone has ever said to me" you whisper, wrapping your arms around his neck again. 

Heeseung leans down to press soft kisses to your jaw, preventing you from seeing the softness in his eyes. He trails his kisses down towards your neck, loving the way your breath hitches. 

"Do you wanna hear the other romantic things I have to say about you?" He asks, mouthing at your collarbone, and you whine when he digs his teeth into your soft skin. 

"Y-yeah" you mewl, your body squirming as he squeezes your ass in one hand while he supports himself over you with the other. 

His hand travels inside your (his) shirt, touching your skin, caressing it. You bite on your lower lip, eyes fluttering when he reaches your bra covered breasts. Your nipples are already hard and pebbled, and you moan loudly when he pinches them. 

"fuck" He groans, your erotic sounds making him leak inside his jeans. 

He mouths hotly at the hollow of your neck, and squeezes your boobs harshly, making you cry out again. Fuck, he loves playing with your body like this. 

You tangle your fingers inside his hairs, your toes curling at the attention he's giving to your chest. 

Heeseung sits up to unbutton your shirt, manhandling your body to take it off of you in a lust driven frenzy. As soon as it’s off of your body, he instantly goes back to squeezing your soft flesh again, watching with dark eyes how your soft skin turns red in his hold.

"Ah-heeseung" you whimper, feeling exposed at how he greedily drinks in your uncovered skin. 

He unbuttons your (his) jeans, and slides them off of your legs in one go, discarding them on the floor. He bites his lower lip, his eyes running across your uncovered body, and he can feel how hard and heavy he is inside his jeans. He fights the urge to squeeze his junk when you bite on your finger, doe eyes staring up at him, your body squirming as he gropes you. 

You're so naively sexy, your innocence drives him batshit insane. 

"I almost jerked off to you while changing your clothes you know? you just looked too fucking sexy to resist" He grunts, his fingers running over your stretch marks. Before you have a chance to feel self conscious about the fact that he's seen your body before, or feel apprehensive about his touch on your stretch marks, he leans down to kiss them. You gasp when he runs his hot tongue over them, kissing and licking like he can't help it. He traces your panty line with the tip of his tongue, hands groping your thighs mercilessly.

He's so close to your pussy, and your face burns.

 

"H-heeseung" You squeak out, and the boy instantly climbs up your body to come face to face with you, pecking you softly as he hums. 

"I-i haven't shaved" you tell him shyly, your ears heating up in embarrassment. But you need to tell him now before he recoils in disgust later. 

What you don't expect is the way he chuckles, leaning down to nibble on your cheek while his hand cups your breast again, squeezing and groping. 

"you worry about the things that don't even cross my mind baby- he pecks your nose and stares into your eyes- you think I'll care about some hairs when your warm pussy is right there? that I'll be able to think about anything other than sucking and fucking when my dick's about to fall off?"

Your face is so hot you can feel the heat radiating off of you. Though his words are vulgar, and so obscene, they do placate your worries for a bit. 

Keyword : a bit.

You're still apprehensive about him being down there. What if you smell bad? and taste even worse? 

You gasp when he roughly pulls your boobs out of your bra cups, and takes one in his wet mouth. You tug on his hairs, and moan when he bites your nipple too harshly, the sensation making you arch your back into his mouth. 

You don't notice when his hand travels between your legs, but a deep whine falls from your lips when he runs a finger over your panty clad slit. 

"you're fucking dripping baby" He groans into your flesh that he still has in his mouth, sucking and biting both of your boobs till they sting. 

You try to close your thighs around his hand but he tsks in faux disappointment, and parts them again, trailing his kisses down towards your centre, leaving no portion of your skin unmarked. 

He kisses your pussy from above your panties, slurpimg your wetness through the sheer material, burying his nose into your slit.

"fuck baby, taste so good" he groans, rubbing his nose in your wetness, tracing the outline of your pussy with his mouth. You bite your finger, and squirm in his touch, feeling yourself dripping more. 

He trails his kisses down to your inner thighs, making you squeal when he digs his teeth into your sensitive flesh. He chuckles into your skin, and does the same to your other thigh. He seems to be enjoying this more than you are. He leaves more bites marks up your leg before burying his face between your legs again, making your thighs close around his head. 

The action makes something in him snap, and heeseung sits up on his hunches, stares straight into your eyes while he licks his lips for your juices, and starts sliding your panties down your smooth legs.

“want you in my mouth before we fuck”

Your breath hitches when his heavy lidded eyes snap down to your nakedness, and he closes his eyes to groan. 

"shit" He curses, parts your legs open, and dives straight between your legs, not even bothering to take off your panties all the way off as it hangs on your ankle obscenely. He sucks your sensitive clit into his mouth,and you moan so loudly it has you slapping your palm over your own. The overwhelming sensation makes your eyes roll back, only ever feeling your own fingers down there, it's a heady feeling to feel someone else.

 

You tangle your fingers in his hairs, tugging harshly when he slurps your wetness, parting your pussy open with his fingers,and thrusting his tongue inside your virgin hole,running it all over your vulva like a starved man.

 

You thrash in his hold, a shiver running down your spine when his nose bumps your clit, and he starts applying pressure, rubbing it back and forth. The obscene squelch that you can hear from between your legs has your face burning, you can't believe how wet you are. You aren't ready for the sudden feeling of his finger sliding inside your pussy, and you scream. Heeseung looks up at you from between your legs, and increases his movement, eyes dark as they watch you lose yourself to pleasure. 

"How does that feel? " He asks, voice so deep it makes your pussy throb. 

You moan, and nod your head rapidly "s-so good" you whimper when he dives down to suck on your clit again. The combined feeling of his fingers and mouth pushes you closer to your orgasm. 

"Yeah baby? Your pussy's so tight, can't wait to get in there, wanna feel good too" He groans, thrusting a second finger inside your warm cavity, and probing inside your gummy walls in come hither motion that makes you mewl. 

"So wet" He mumbles, licking into your pussy again. And God do you taste addicting, heeseung can spend the whole day buried in between your legs if you would give him a chance. The way your walls flutter around his fingers has him leaking copious amount of precum in his jeans, and he has never been so turned on before. 

"pleasee" You moan, and he's crawling up to you again, his lips capturing yours and you can taste yourself on his tongue. He fucks you with his fingers rapidly, lust filled eyes watching in rapt attention at how your eyes flutter shut, and your body arches into him, so ready to getting lost in pleasure. 

He curses under his breath as he watches how you grind your hips on his fingers, trying to chase the pleasure they’re giving you

"yeah? Gonna cum and make a mess baby? " He asks into your mouth, swallowing your moan, and licking the drool escaping your lips. 

You nod your head and dig your nails into his neck, holding onto him for your life. Heeseung ruts his hard on against your thigh as he watches you come undone on his fingers alone, moaning his name unintelligibly. Watching you cum is the hottest thing he’s ever seen, he decides.

"Cum on me, make yourself feel good" he sighs, the pleasure filled expression on your face has him close to cumming untouched. You gyrate your hips while his fingers get covered in your juices, drenching his palm as he helps you ride out your orgasm. You sigh out in relief, coming down from your high, your hold loosens on his neck and you squirm while you watch him sucking his fingers, tasting your juices. It's so hot, you don't even realize when you lean in. His lips meet yours and you moan upon tasting your cum, sucking on his tongue like he sucks yours. 

"Made you feel so good yeah?" He asks, his voice hoarse in desire, and you nod, pushing yourself into him again. He wraps his arms around your body, and unhooks your bra, finally taking it off of your body, and discarding it somewhere. 

"My turn" He grunts. 

You rub your thighs together while he unbuckles his belt, ogling your naked body like a pervert. Your eyes widen when he pulls his boxers down unceremoniously, just enough to let his dick flop out. 

It's bigger in person,even bigger than you remember while touching him and you whine. There's no way that can fit inside you. His eyes darken as he strokes his cock, fisting it to the sight of your naked body lying so helplessly, ready for the taking. And God does he want to take you. 

If you weren't a virgin, he would have been pounding your hole by now, but as much as he's impatient, he wants to make this experience good for you too.

You're sucking on your finger again, your eyes fixed on how he moves his palm up and down his shaft, the real life version makes you drip more than the video he sent did. 

Heeseung hovers over your body again, and grabs your hand, pulling out your finger from your mouth. "No hiding your sounds from me, wanna hear you loud and clear while I fuck you stupid" He growls, and you squirm under his gaze. 

You yelp when you feel him running his dickhead against your slick pussy, wetting it in your juices for a smooth slide. You dig your nails into his shoulders, staring up at him with your big doe eyes as you utter the words which make Heeseung finally snap.

"p-please don't make it hurt" your voice is the sweetest thing he's ever heard, and God, does he want to hurt you. He wants to roughly push himself inside till there's nothing but tears of pain and pleasure running down your pretty face. He wants to make you scream, and show you how pain only heightens the pleasure. 

You're so naive, looking up at him, trusting him, but heeseung is lost in his dark desires and pushes in without a warning. You turn him on so badly.  You scream at the way his length bullies itself inside your tight hole, scraping against your walls and your body feels like it's being split in half. Tears blur your vision and you push against his chest, sobbing through the pain that makes you want to run away. It's too much. 

"h-hurts please-oh-" his hips push inside and then he's balls deep into you, groaning in satisfaction while you scream again. The feeling of your hymen tearing apart makes you sob uncontrollably, and you try to angle your hips away from him. He doesn’t fit, he’s gonna tear you apart.

Heeseung holds your hips in his bruising grip, and starts moving in and out. He's too damn turned on to think about anything else other than how good your virgin pussy feels around his dick.  "Stay still baby, let me feel good" He grunts, pulling out of your hole to the hilt, and then pushing inside again. In and out. In and out. His hot pants fall onto your wet cheeks. Heeseung reaches down to rub on your clit, relishing in the wet warmth of your pussy. It feels more pleasurable for him when you start getting impossibly wet.   Soon enough, Your pain filled sobs start to subside, and pleasure filled sobs start to leave your lips instead. 

That's when he starts fucking in earnest. Once he hears you moan in pleasure, heeseung lets go of all his inhibitions, and straight up pounds into you. 

"Fuck yeah baby, so fucking tight for me" he groans, snapping his hips against you at a rapid pace. His balls smack against your ass every time he pushes in, and the skin slapping sounds make your head throb in pleasure.

You didn't know sex could feel so good.   "Heeseung please, oh my god" You moan when his dick rubs against your sweet spot, his hot pants fall on your mouth while he slots his lips against yours in imitation of a kiss

"Yeah? Just like that?" He asks, his own eyes rolling back when you clench around him. So deliciously tight.

The slide inside is so deep and so wet, it makes his hips pick up speed. 

"Warm little cunt, waited so long to get inside" he groans, biting on your lower lip, and grinding his pelvis against yours. 

The sheer ecstasy running through your veins at the way his cock makes out with your cervix, makes you thrust up your hips against him. You buck into his hold, pressing your body closer, rubbing your chest against his clothed one. It's then that you realize that he's still wearing clothes. 

Heeseung curses under his breath when you whine and tug at his shirt.

"You wanna feel me naked baby?" he asks, running his hands over your curves as he pounds into your warm hole. It's too good to stop. 

You nod and tug on his shirt again, trying to get closer to him.

"Fuck" Heeseung mutters, and sits back on his hunches, his hips still grind into you while he strips himself off of his clothes. He pulls himself out of you for a split second to discard his jeans and boxers on the floor, then he's thrusting into you again. 

"This is so much fucking better" He moans, loving how your naked body arches into his own, rubbing yourself against him so desperately. The delicious friction of your grinding sexes makes you both delirious in pleasure. Heeseung digs his fingers into the fat of your waist, and buries his face inside the crook of your neck, kissing and moaning along it while his thrusts become merciless. You dig your nails into his shoulders, and throw your head back, exposing more skin for him to dig his teeth into.  The obscene way your naked bodies buck and thrust against each other to reach pleasure high is a sight to behold. The skin slapping, and wet squelching sounds fill up the space between your heated bodies, and you never want this feeling to stop. 

"tight fucking cunt, so good, wanna keep fucking till my dick aches" His filthy words travel deep inside your core, and warmth spreads inside your womb, the knot starting to form in your stomach. 

"oh my god" You moan when he slows his hips into a slow grind, hitting all the right spots inside your swollen pussy. 

"Yeah? fuck yourself on my dick like a slut, grind your virgin little pussy on my meat" He growls, coming up to capture your lips in his own, groaning into your mouth when you dig your nails painfully inside his flesh, enough to draw blood. 

The sweat drips down your bodies, as you rut against each other in pure pleasure. You moan into heeseungs mouth as he languidly licks against your open cavity, sucking on your tongue, and exchanging spit. 

The pace of his thrusts fasten, and he pounds you into the couch, fucking into you like his life depends on it. Your words are reduced to mere moans and babbles, your tongue lolling out at how good he feels.

"gonna cum inside this cunt baby, gonna let me fill you up right? flood your insides with my fuck cream?" You nod in a lust filled haze, and heeseung licks the saliva that pools in the corner of your mouth.

" Yeah? Real deep baby? Fuck-so fucking good Jesus" He growls, his spit and sweat falling into your mouth as he starts rutting into you like an animal. He can feel himself getting closer. the knot in your stomach snaps when he presses his palm into your lower stomach to trace his outline. You gasp into his mouth, and your body convulses uncontrollably.

"Fuck yeah, god you're gonna make me cum, god im- his hips grind a few times inside your pussy, and then he's stilling inside of you, the tight clench of your pussy pushing him over the edge, shooting his thick cum inside your womb. 

It feels so good that Heeseung keeps moving inside you till you whine and cry out in overstimulation. You're grateful when he listens, and pulls out, but the very next second, he's getting down there and burying his face between your legs again, slurping your combined juices from your pussy. Your toes curl at the feeling, and you can't help but open your mouth when he comes up to slot his cum filled one against yours. It's nasty, but you can't stop licking into him, tasting your mixed release together. 

"Fuck, you're nasty" He chuckles, finally turning your body around, and wrapping you into his embrace. 

For the first time in your life, you fall asleep nuzzled into a warm and comforting body against you.

 ◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

Heeseung has always prided himself in the fact that he doesn’t get attached to people easily, doesn’t feel certain emotions until he allows himself to. He’s not a good person, he’s always known this, that’s the reason why he has always kept himself at a distance.

Watching. Observing.

Nothing in his life is unpredictable, heeseung works according to the plan, always predicting and preparing himself for situations that can happen. That’s just how he operates.

Watching. Observing. Executing.

You, however, caught him off guard. Heeseung was never ready for you to barge in his life the way that you did.

You think you know him from third semester but heeseung knows you from way before that. The first time he’d seen you was on the very first day of college, waiting right outside the registrar office, chewing on your bottom lip nervously as you stepped aside for people to pass.

There was something about you that stuck with Heeseung. He couldn't figure out what it was no matter how much he thought about it but you soon became a constant itch at the back of his mind.

It wasn't like you were strikingly pretty. Heeseung had been surrounded by beautiful women all his life. Almost desensitized to extravagant beauty. It all seemed vague to him.

You were not extraordinarily pretty, no.

But you were enchanting. it was the type of pretty that stuck with you, that stayed with you, the type of pretty that might not capture your attention in the first glance but the second or third glance might have you hooked; the type of pretty that was made up of hesitant smiles and solemn gazes and fidgeting hands.

Heeseung watched you from afar for a long time, observing, learning. That was until he saw an opportunity to be in the same lecture as you. That’s when he started executing.

And then you made him fail. At his own game.

Heeseung’s sickness identified and craved yours, rendering him powerless when he realized that maybe,you were even sicker than him, a thousand times more depraved. You just didn’t know it yet.

He didn’t realize when you became the very thing he breathes, carving yourself a home inside the darkest parts of his heart.

Ever since he fucked you into your sheets, his craving for you has increased tenfold. He is way past pretending that you are some stupid bet, or a mere name on the list. Seeing you vulnerable, and yet so strong , made something shift in him. He's always been sick in desire for you, but over the past few months, you have managed to infiltrate your way inside his brain. 

"How's the mission " Cherries to pop" going for you man?" Jake's voice interrupts his thoughts, and he doesn't have to think twice about his answer, eyes fixated on your slumped figure as he replies

"Take her off the list, I won" 

Numerous gasps are heard around him, sunghoon laughs in shock, eyes meeting Jake's in disbelief "you can't be serious, was she any good? " He asks, nervousness creeping in his voice, because heeseung did look serious. 

Heeseung turned his eyes towards sunghoon,face void of any emotion

"the bet's over. I don't want to talk about it, but if I see any of you fuckers around her after this, it's going to get bloody " He warns, sweeping his eyes over the shocked faces of the boys around him. And with that, you are taken off the list forever. 

◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

You hear the whispers, you aren't deaf, but something inside you disassociated when you woke up in the evening after losing your virginity. Cold and alone. 

Heeseung had cleaned your body and clothed it before he left, but not having him near stung more than you ever thought it would. It was to be expected tho, wasn’t it? He got what he want, there was no reason to stay.

"can't believe heeseung really did it"

"Man, she doesn't look like she must have been a good fuck"

"A win is a win"

You don't dare look up the entire day, ignoring all the folded papers that fall beside your leg. Curiosity doesn't get the better of you, and you don't pick them up to read what's inside. It just doesn't seem to matter anymore. All this buzz will die down in a week, and you will finally resort back to the dark corners, and shadows where people will no longer look at you, just past you. 

You don't dread the reality of your situation anymore, a small sigh leaving your lips as you gather your stuff, and walk past the inquisitive stares. 

Settling down at the farthest seat in the cafeteria gives you a sense of relief. This seat has been your safe space through all ups and down. The only constant in the chaos of your existence.

You're busy swirling your food around the plate when a sudden quiet falls over the cafeteria. All the chitter chatter, and noise dies down. It's almost eerie. Eerie enough to finally make you look up to see what's wrong. Your eyes turn towards the entrance as you follow everyone's collective gaze, and what you see makes your heart plummet in your stomach.

It's Jay. But he's wearing a cap, his head is slumped down as he makes his way towards his seat but it doesn't hide the black and blue wound blossoming around his left eye, several deep cuts on his lower lip, and scratches on his cheek. The high neck he's wearing sticks out like a sore thumb in mid July, and you wonder if there's more that he's trying to hide. You don't have to worry about facing him, looks like he's not going to be looking up anytime soon. 

Realization sets inside your throat like a lump, and you instinctively snap your gaze towards heeseung's table. His eyes are already on you when you find him. They're dark, and tender, if that's even possible. You feel like you're drowning in them. Your throat feels full, and your eyes burn the more that you look at him, and you can't help but follow your instinct to get out of here as soon as possible. It's too much. This sudden influx of emotion is too much for you. 

Murmurs follow your leave, but you don't stay behind to hear or care. Your steps are heavy and purposeful as you stride forward, away from everyone and everything. This feels like a fever dream. Why the fuck would Heeseung do that? Scratch that, how the fuck did he even find out?

But you know exactly how he found out. The location that you shared. It isn’t rocket science to figure out who lives nearby. Of course he knows. What confuses you is the fact that he cared enough to look it up and avenge you in his own sick way.Why does he even care?

You can feel a breakdown coming, and so without wasting time, you rush home in a frenzy. By the time you reach your threshold, your throat hurts, the tonsils burning in pain. Your body is begging for you to let it out, but you're a slave to your habits. Holding everything inside until it chokes your airway. 

You're tapping your leg frantically as you stir a spoon haphazardly in your coffee cup, swallowing down copious amounts of caffeine to push back the inevitable. You hate breakdowns, hate feeling so out of control and vulnerable. It shatters your facade, makes you come face to face with the pretty lies that you tell yourself. 

"It's going to be fine, you're fine"

But are you? 

A loud honking in your front yard makes you drop your cup, spilling all of its contents on your shoes, jumping back as you get startled out of your mind. 

Who the fuck?

You step over the mess and make your way to your front door, watching in disbelief as Heeseung's car idles in front of you. He's looking right at you from his window, and you wonder what is it about his eyes. There's something about his eyes and the way he looks at you. It makes you feel naked. Body and soul. It seems like he looks right through you, and you don't know if you like that. 

Your feet move on their own and he doesn’t even have to say anything. In no time, you find yourself sitting inside his car, your back against the expensive leather seats, while you play with the stray threads of your blouse. 

"What do you want now?" you ask, deciding to break the silence. It's only fair to stop beating around the bush and get this over with. Whatever this is.

"You" He answers almost immediately, making you scoff. You don't look at him but you can feel his gaze burning into you. 

"I'm not a virgin anymore Heeseung, you won, there’s nothing more that I can offer you" Your voice feels scratchy against your throat, and you wonder if it's because of the tears you keep pushing back. 

There's a heavy pause of silence, and then you hear him chuckle, almost in pity and contempt. 

"You don't get it do you?" He asks, voice laced with disbelief. 

When you don't look up, and don't respond, he laughs hollowly. 

"Ask me why I did that" He says, his tone a tad bit deeper now. It's a demand. "Ask me why I smashed pretty boy's face in" 

You swallow the lump in your throat, and close your eyes. Not now please. 

"Why" you whisper ask, almost inaudible if it wasn't for the pin drop silence in the car.

"because it gave me a sick satisfaction to see him in pain. I'm not sorry about how your old man ended up either. If I could, I would shoot both of their skulls open for putting their hands on you"

The anger and pure hatred in his voice makes a sob to rip through your chest, eyes finally snapping up to meet his. They're dark in anger, and disdain, and you wonder why he cares so much. You look over to his wounded knuckles which are turning white due to how tightly he’s gripping onto the steering wheel. The sight of his anger mirroring your own ignites a spark of recognition deep within you. The raw intensity of emotion emanating from Heeseung stirs something inside your vacant soul. For the first time in what feels like an eternity, you feel seen. Validated. All this time, you had told yourself that you got what you deserve. You were fundamentally flawed, and all of this pain was your own fault.You never allowed yourself to be angry, burying the rage beneath your stoic facade, but seeing Heeseung angry for you makes your own walls crumble one by one.

"I want to cut open anyone who's ever hurt you baby, I want to be the only one who gets to hurt you" He declares.

You gape at him while tears run down the slope of your cheeks

"that's-that's not normal" you whisper, but his expressions don't crack, eyes wide and pupils dilated. In this moment, he looks insane, and it scares you how much you want to get lost in him.

"You don't need normal" he replies. 

His words hit heavy and get stuck inside your throat. You look away and wipe your tears, swallowing another bout of sobs threatening to escape your chest. The walls are cracking, the sound of them breaking and destructing can be heard as you let his words sink in. 

"Quit your part time job and let me take care of you. Your every need, I'll satisfy it. You won't even have to ask me for it and it will be done" He says, leaning forward, as if trying to make you see the reason in what he's saying.

You shake your head, eyes brimming with anger and tears as you stare right into his own.

"I don't need you to take care of me. I've always done it myself and I have managed to do it just fine, I don’t need you" you seethe, feeling rage at his implication that you can't hold your own. 

His expressions soften as he runs his eyes over your angry tears, his hand coming up to wipe them with his thumb. It’s pathetic how this small caress makes you lean into his touch. 

"No you don't. But I need you. I need to take care of you. I won’t be able to live with myself if I don't" He confesses. 

More tears run down your cheeks as sobs rip through your chest, and he continues to caress your face. 

"Is this a declaration of love?" you grouch through your physical grief, watching how his eyes gaze into yours, as if he wasn't expecting you to ask him that. 

"Does it have to be? I promise to keep you happy and protect you from all harm, should that not be enough?" 

You stare into his orbs and your heart skips a beat at the raw vulnerability you find there. He's just as scared as you, if not more. Turns out, you aren't the only one who is bad at confronting feelings. 

You crawl your way onto his lap, and he instantly wraps his arms around you, like you belong there. You take his hand into your own and press tender kisses onto his knuckles, and he watches you do it. Then you look up, and smile. That smile seems to be his undoing. Heeseung instantly leans down to kiss you fervently. You tangle your fingers in his hairs, kissing back just as deeply, and he groans into the kiss. The collision of your mouths is desperate, as if trying to convey all that's left unsaid. 

"It's enough" You mumble into his mouth, and he swallows your words greedily. 

𝗮𝗻 𝗲𝘆𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝗻 𝗲𝘆𝗲 — p.sh

pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader

genre: revenge, angst, smut, fluff

synopsis: Sunghoon nurtured a profound animosity towards his childhood friend, Lee Heeseung, blaming him for his sister's death. To Sunghoon, his sister was the only person who had genuinely loved him, making Heeseung's perceived betrayal unforgivable. This deep resentment sparked an intense desire for revenge, driving Sunghoon to extreme measures to achieve it. But to what extent would he go to find satisfaction in his vengeance against Lee Heeseung? Would his plans unfold smoothly, or would everything take an unexpected turn, throwing his schemes into something he didn’t expect.

word count: 7k

warnings: swearing, kidnapping (kinda), possessive hoon, mentions of death, fake marriage, depression.

an eye for an eye: part 1

The familiar feeling of emptiness flooded his body. Sunghoon’s eyes were lifeless as the they gazed at the coffin where his sister’s remains lay.

This was the same feeling he had when his father’s mistress left him at his biological father’s mansion.

He felt the coldness of his father towards him. He felt the hatred of his father’s wife. He saw disappointment in his grandparents’ faces.

He was unloved and unwanted, it was a no brainer.

For a six-year-old child, it was all too much to take. When he was living with his mother, he was treatedlike shit. And when he lived with his father, there was no difference at all. It’s no wonder why he became wary of people. He wouldn’t want to talk to anyone, nor be in the same room as them. He would only go out to eat and return to his room to lock himself up. He even thought back then that his existence was big bad joke.

But one day, a girl with the same dark brown eyes as his went inside his room and forced him to leave the house and drink up some sunshine. He had no other choice but to follow the girl because she would never let go of his hand.

Truth to be told, Sunghoon found the girl irritating, he wanted to hurt her. But when she said that she was his sister and that she would protect him from all evil, he was left speechless. Because for the first time in years, there was a person who wanted to protect him. Her older sister’s smile made him cry, not because of sadness, but because of happiness.

He let out a hollow laugh. He will never see those smiles of her sister ever again. Those good old times would now be just a mere memory.

He slightly turned his head when he heard someone familiar talking behind him. Sunghoon’s jaw clenched as he stared at the cause of his beloved sister’s death, Lee Heeseung. His bestfriend and her sister’s boyfriend.

With heavy feet, he stood up and approached the guy and his father who he was talking to.

“You’re not welcome here, Lee Heeseung. Leave” His voice was hard and heavy.

“Park Sunghoon!” His father reprimanded.

“Uncle, can you please give us a minute? We’re just going to talk.”

“If you want to explain what happened, then let me tell you that you’re just wasting your time.” He said, blankly, not showing an ounce of emotion to the guy in front of him.

“Please, Sunghoon, listen to me. I didn’t want all of this to happen. I-I’m sorry.” Heeseung sounded so pathetically contrite, making him want to vomit.

“So you want me forgive you just like that, Heeseung?” He sarcastically remarked. Heeseung shook his head with a sigh and looked at Sunghoon with pleading eyes once again.

“I know it was partly my fault, and I am also hurting, Sunghoon. You know how much I love your sister, and I wouldn’t ask for this to happen.”

“You wouldn’t ask for this to happen?” He sharply retorted what the guy said. “It was the middle of the fucking night, yet you asked her to go out riding in your stupid car. You asked her to leave even if it was already late. Clearly, you asked for this the happen! You are the reason why my sister is lying there!” He lashed out, pointing at the coffin where her sister’s lifeless body lie.

“It was our anniversary! I invited her out because I wanted to surprise her!” Heeseung’s left hand balled into a fist he was sure the right one would do the same if it weren’t in a sling due to the accident.

“Yeah, and because of that stupid surprise, my sister died.” He saw the look of hurt in his best friend’s eyes, but the pain that he is seeing wasn’t enough for him. He wanted to beat the shit out of Heeseung and kill him with his bare hands, but that would be too easy.

“I didn’t know that a drunk driver would appear and hit us! If only I knew… I-if only I knew…” Heeseung’s eyes reddened with pain.

Sunghoon’s greeted his teeth, turning away. “Leave.”

“Sunghoon, please….”

“Just leave!” he hissed. “Leave and don’t ever show your face to me ever again.” He said in a serious tone.

“Sunghoon?” He was quick to turn his head towards the source of the voice. There stood Y/n, standing next to Heeseung as she anxiously glanced back and forth between the two. “Why would you say that to my brother?”

His lips pressed firmly with a stern expression. “Because his idea of a pleasant surprise is a bad joke.”

That was all he said before returning to his seat. He didn’t bother to look at the two again, and he wasn’t able to see Y/n’s eyes widen in surprise. He only heard the faint farewells of the two to his father.

Once again, Sunghoon confined in his own lonely world. He feels like he was cursed and happiness was forcefully denied to him. Losing his sister who helped him break free from his dark world was painful.

Losing a friend that he considered a family was painful.

Losing the woman he had learned to love was painful.

In just a snap, he lost the people who gave color to his world.

10 years later…

The service crew was very attentive, Sunghoon noticed. The place was modern and cozy. He hadn’t taste any of the pastries yet, but they looked appetizing. All in all, the bakeshop was pretty impressive. There’s no wonder why a lot of people go here.

On the other hand, it was quite a surprise that he’s in the shop. This was the first time he set foot in this place.

He wouldn’t bother to come if it weren’t for something important, especially since the owner of this bakeshop is the sister of someone he despises.

Yes, he knew you owned this place.

Your town is small enough for him to not know that. So, why the hell would he choose to meet someone in your haven of all places? There was a ninety-nine percent chance of him seeing you there. But what can he do about it?

His ‘oh so noble father’ commanded him to meet with the girl he liked for him. Obviously wanting him to settle down already. And because that he is the only son of his beloved father, he has no right to oppose to it.

He felt his phone rang and he answered.

“Yes?”

“Hey, Mr. Park.”

Said the girl on the other line. The voice sound forcefully seductive it sounded cheap to his ear.

“May I know who’s on the other line?”

Sunghoon asked lazily and almost rolled his eyes.

“This is Shin Yuna. I’m the one you’re meeting at the bakery in town.”

His eyes went searching for a woman who was on the phone, probably speaking with him. At the door he saw a woman wearing a tight-fitting yellow dress. The woman had a phone pressed to one ear, her eyes scanning the inside of the shop. Looks like she was the one he’s waiting for.

He ended that call once her eyes landed on him. Evidently, she’d recognize him. A sensual smile appeared on her bloody red lips and she started walking towards him.

He should feel lucky because the woman was a catch. Her skin was smooth and fair, she had shiny, long hair. And in his opinion, aside from her hourglass figure, the girl’s flawless legs were her best asset, free from any scars.

She was gorgeous all right. But it doesn’t have an impact on Sunghoon.

Yuna must be one of those girls who are pretty on the outside, empty in the inside. Beautiful but annoying and boring.

He stood up as the girl approached. He offered his hand but she didn’t take it. Instead, she leaned to give him a kiss on his cheek. Okay, he wasn’t at all shocked by that.

“Nice to meet you Mr. Park” she greeted

“The pleasure is all mine, Miss Shin.”

“Please, call me Yuna.” She said with a wide almost flirty smile. “Then call me Sunghoon.” He motioned her to the seat in front of him. “Please, have a seat.”

“Thank you, have you ordered anything yet” she said as she sat.

Sunghoon shook his head. “Not yet, I was waiting for you. And it’s my first time here, I don’t know what food to choose.” Her hand rested on his arm and he wasn’t born yesterday to not know that she was openly flirting with him.

“Oh Really? You should try their famous gyeran-ppang. It’s a fluffy loaf of bread with a whole egg inside. It’s really good, I suggest you try it.”

Sunghoon suddenly remembered you, gyeran-ppang was your favorite ever since. Be it sweet of savory. He didn’t expect that those two could be brought together.

“If you liked it, maybe I should try it.” He simply said, trying to push away the memories. Yuna’s eyes sparkled, and he wanted to roll his eyes, but Sunghoon retrained himself. What was an hour of enduring this infront of her, right?

“Okay, I’ll just go to the counter to order, since this is a self-service shop.” Yuna said as he noticed a slight frown on her face. “I hope next time they hire waiters here so customers won’t have to go to the counter to do the job.”

Ah, he knew it.

His assumptions were correct, the girl only visually pleasing. Deep inside, she was a typical rich brat. He found his father’s taste in girl quite funny.

“It’s like hitting two birds with one stone. The service would be aster, plus it would provide jobs for jobless people. That way, more customers would go here, and it would reduce the number of unemployed people.” She annoyingly added further.

God help him stop himself from sneering. As if he’d believe that shit. What could this girl possibly know about work and helping other people?

“Yeah, you’re right.” He answered dryly. “I’ll order, I’m the guy here and I should be the one treating you and taking care of things.”

She sweetly smiled at him once again. “Why, thank you, Sunghoon. I’ll have two gyeran-ppang and one iced coffee. And please ask for a fork and knife while you’re at it.”

“Alright.” He gave her a small smile and quickly stood up, immediately walking his way to the counter to escape his date. He wished the serving of their food would last longer, but the workers in the shop were indeed good at what they do. In less than six minutes. He was back at his table with Yuna waiting for him.

“Go ahead and try it.” She urged him to sit down as their order was served. He took a bit of the gyeran-ppang and he instantly knew why it became popular in the area.

“It’s good right?” He simply nodded in response. Yuna then picked up the bread knife and fork that he requested earlier and used them to eat.

“Why use a fork and knife? It’s a finger food.” He couldn’t help but to ask.

“Oh, eating it with my fingers would be a mess, and my lipstick would smudge if I eat it directly.” Sunghoon avoided raising the corners of if his lips.

“I see. I’m surprised that you eat food like this and have that kind of body.” Yuna let out a shy laugh at his statement.

“I’m very conscious with what I eat, but when I tried this a few weeks ago, I forgot the diet. I even bought boxes of it for the orphanage that we were helping, And the kids loved it too.”

She was trying to impress him by mentioning the word orphanage? Would it be a bad idea to laugh? Or was he being too hard on this girl? After all, what did he know about Yuna? He didn’t even bother to make an effort to find out about the girl’s demeanor before coming here. Is her values really worth his time? Sunghoon bit his lip to stop himself from commenting something he’d regret saying later on.

Sunghoon glanced at the entrance of the bakeshop and he swore he felt his heart pounded. A pang of nostalgia when he saw a familiar figure arrive.

You were like an angel minus the wings and the halo. You were wearing a simple with dress that gave you sweet and innocent look. He didn’t expect that you would become even more beautiful than you are over the years. Your rosy white skin was flawless, he longed to touch it. Your lips were full and naturally pink. He almost tasted those once and he suddenly had this urge to kiss you.

He sighed forcefully, everything about him was cold earlier but he felt so damn hot in an instant just by seeing you. He wanted to own you, he wanted to make you his.

Sunghoon felt his heart race at he continued to stare at your face, feeling the rush of warmth in his body.

The beautifully scattered moles on your face made you look more unique ang exquisite to him. Back then, Sunghoon thought he could spend the rest of his life just by looking at your lovely face. Your beautifully sculpted brown eyes with thick and long lashes were still bright and full of life. He wanted to lose himself one day while looking at those hypnotic vivid orbs.

You walked you way towards the counter and greeted your staff with a bright smile.

The sun’s heat was nothing compared to the warmth of your smile. You were like the sun, only brighter, with inky black hair shining.

Now that’s his kind of pretty. You would always be his kind of pretty. Your beauty was ethereal, it was second to none in Sunghoon’s eyes. He mustered all his strength to look away from the person who evoked such emotions from him.

He tried to put his focus on the person in front of him, but his eyes would occasionally wander back to you.

“So, what are you busy with these days?” He heard Yuna asked him.

“Work, I guess.” He shrugged. “We export high quality mangoes to our neighboring countries.”

“Oh. Yeah, my parents and I visited your mango farm once. And I must say, your place is very refreshing.”

“Thank you, how about you? What your work?” He asked to have something to talk about, not because he wanted to know.

Yuna took a sip of her iced coffee before responding.

“I’m an interior designer, I often have famous celebrities as my client.” She said, feeling proud. “You know that one actor in squid game? He was my last client. Tell you what, his mansion was large, so I was very happy that I got the project.”

He tried his best not to look bored.

What does he care about celebrities? He hadn’t even watched this movie that she was talking about. But he needed to endure all this for two reasons. First, he didn’t want to be rude no matter how his inner demon wished to be. And second, to distract himself from your presence.

His only problem now is how will he hide himself from the owner of this bakery.

—

“Hey, Ning. How are you all doing?” You asked your worker working on the cashier as you entered the counter.

“We’re doing fine, Y/n. It was a bit of a hassle earlier because there were loads of customers, but it was overall doing alright. I mean, what’s a little hassle when you can earn profit, right?” Ningning said, smiling widely.

You giggled. “Yes, true. Sorry for being late, I wasn’t able to help you here. I just had something to take care of back home.”

“No, Y/n. It’s all good, you’re the boss here after all. You don’t have to worry about a single thing, we got you.” She said reassuringly, smiling softly at you.

“Yeah, Y/n. Besides, we know you’re going through something tough right now. How was everything anyway?” Sunoo, your amazing barista, asked. You sighed deeply before answering the young man.

“It’s not settled yet, our ranch is still a mess.”

“Oh, Y/n. Don’t be down like that, you’re going to get through everything sooner than you think.” You just smiled a Sunoo’s statement.

You needed money to rebuild the barn. You needed to hire new workers to manage the ranch. It could all be solved with money, but the problem is you don’t have much of it.

Ever since your parents died few years ago, your brother took over the management of the estate.

But what can Heeseung do when half of his life was into car racing? Even you don’t know how to run a ranch because your job is making different kinds of delicious bread. Before you and Heeseung could even realize it, the inheritance your parents left you both was slowly falling apart.

And now you and your brother wanted to save the precious land. You would give all the earning from the bakeshop just to make it work, but it was just wasn’t enough. You and Heeseung tried going to the banks, but they turned you down every time you tried. Your brother doesn’t want your house or land as collateral.

You were thankful for the people working for your shop as they wholeheartedly give you their support.

“Thank you for comforting my, guys. Don’t worry, if everything settles down, I’ll definitely throw a party.” They all cheered as you smiled.

You went out to fix the displays in the counter. You didn’t notice someone passing by, making you bump into them.

“I’m sorry,” You apologized, realizing that you bumped into a woman. She quickly brushed off the area you bumped into and gave you a sharp look.

“Next time, watch where you’re going.” She turned to look at the person next to her and whispered.

“Sunghoon, let’s go?”

You felt like you were turned into stone and it looks like Sunghoon felt the same way. It seems like he was frozen in place where he stood, his gaze solely fixed on you.

But it seemed like you’re mistaken because when you looked closely at the man, his face had no expression at all.

He had changed, but not really. He was still the same Sunghoon. Only stronger, leaner, harder, darker, and more attractive. It scared you, he scared you. Yet, you wanted to reach out and talk to him. But to your utter dismay, he just walked past you. And before you knew, he was long gone. Again.

Sunghoon kept telling himself that he was not a stalker, but it had been five days and this was his fifth time your bakeshop. He just couldn’t go inside. So for those five days, he contented himself with parking in front of your shop, and watching from inside his car.

When he saw you again, he had a big idea in mind, and yes, that was the reason why he kept going to your bakeshop. Sadly, he would always go home without seeing you.

He couldn’t help overhearing the conversation between you and your employees. Their table wasn’t that far from the counter so it was inevitable. He was surprised that you didn’t notice him right away. But if Sunghoon were to talk about surprising things, what he heard was even more surprising.

It looked like karma found its way to Lee Heeseung. He should be happy about it and somehow, he was.

Heeseung took something from him, someone important, so Sunghoon should take someone important from him too.

A sister for a sister. An eye for an eye.

He glanced at his watch and told himself that this should be the perfect time. He got out of his car and walked straight towards the bakeshop. It was already past eight o’clock, but the bakeshop was still almost full.

He noticed the two service crew he saw last time, staring at him, but they immediately turned their backs on him. He approached them.

“Told you, the person inside the black car that is always parked in front of the shop isn’t a bad person. Look at him, he’s too handsome to be a bad person.” He heard the girl he assumed the name was Ningning.

“Seriously? Just because someone isn’t physically attractive doesn’t mean they’re a bad person, you know? And not everyone who looks good is automatically good. You’re being too judgmental.” Sunoo rebuked.

“And what thing could he possibly do, huh?” Ningning asked sarcastically.

“Hello? Ever heard of the saying ‘looks can be deceiving’?” Sunghoon tried not to smirk. Because their backs were facing him, they weren’t able to notice him approaching a while ago.

“Excuse me?” He said, gaining attention from the two. Ningning turned around, her eyes slightly widened.

“Yes, Sir? How can we help you?” Despite the surprise, she quickly regained her composure.

Sunghoon gave her a slight smile. “Um, I’m looking for Y/n. Is she here?” He noticed the two exchanged glances as Ningning seemed a bit hesitant before responding.

“May I ask what’s your relation to Miss Y/n, Sir?”

“I’m a friend. I’d like to have a word with her.”

“Miss Y/n is still in her office.” He saw her co-worker elbowed her, but he didn’t pay much attention to it. “If you’d like, you can have a seat while waiting for her.”

“Okay, Thank you.” He said, walking around the shop to find a comfortable seat. And he couldn’t help but to overhear their conversation once again.

“Friend? Then why am I just seeing him now?”

“I don’t know. He seems nice to me even though he looks a bit harsh.”

“Oh well. Good thing Jake is not here or else he might get jealous.”

For some godforsaken reason, he found his heart tightening at the name he just heard. Who was this Jake guy that might get jealous over him? Is it your Suitor? Boyfriend? Fiance? Sunghoon clenched his jaw. Just imagining another man touching a strand of your inky black hair made him feel sick.

He sat on an empty table near the counter and patiently waited there.

“Ningning, Sunoo, I’m leaving. Will you two be alright staying?” Said the enticing voice near the counter. He glanced over and saw you there.

“Call me whenever something happened, alright? I’ll get going.”

“Oh, Y/n! someone is looking for you.” Ningning said before she forgot. Your brows furrowed as you looked Ningning with a puzzled expression.

“Who?”

Sunghoon stood up and spoke. “Me.” He watched your eyes grow wide with shock as he walked towards you. “Can we talk?”

“I… Of course.” You absent-mindedly nodded. You pointed at the room where you came from. “Let’s go to my office.”

The air tensed up the moment you both entered your office. You sat on your chair as Sunghoon took the visitor’s chair. His eyes were trained on your face while you were looking down on your lap. No one dared to speak. It was dead quiet inside the room, a silent standstill.

Sunghoon decided not to make rhings more awkward. “It’s been a while Y/n.” Great, you suck at opening conversations, man. He honestly wanted to smack himself.

You looked up and your eyes met. “Yeah, it has been a while. How are you?” You slightly smiled at him.

“I’m doing great. You? How are you? I heard your having problems at the ranch.” He paused at what he said. It made him wonder if he was rushing the conversation.

“How did you know?” You asked hesitantly. “The town is a small place, Y/n.” She firmly pressed her lips together. For someone sweet and innocent-looking, you could be fiery too.

“Yes, there’s a big problem at the ranch, but it would be solved in no time.”

“Really?” He raised an eyebrow at the intensity he heard in your voice. “According to what I’ve heard, you were having troubles finding the money needed to fix things on your ranch. So, I came here to offer a proposal.” He leaned on the chair and watched your confused face. You were always this transparent, it’s likely that you now think he’s going crazy.

“What proposal?” You asked with confusion written all over your face.

“I will lend the money you need for the ranch, but you have to marry me.” His simple answer seemed like he was just inviting you to go out ang have a picnic. You looked at him with an unreadable expression before you respond.

“I’m going to what?!”

“You heard me.” He knew it was unnecessary because she could always reach him if she wanted to. But Sunghoon still took a business card from his wallet and placed it on the table.

“I want you to think about it. Call me whenever you made up your mind.”

You stood up from your seat and looked at him with hard eyes. “If you’re just playing around like you used to do, just leave, Sunghoon. Don’t waste my time.”

He also stood up to remind you of the significant height difference you both had.

“I’m not fooling around, Y/n. I’m dead serious.”

“Then why? Why would you want to marry me?” You asked, still stunned be his offer.

“For revenge, I guess? I’ll lend your dear brother the money to help with the recovery of your ranch. But after that, you will cut ties with him. You can’t meet him nor even talk to him.” He took a deep breath before letting out the next heavy words.

“He took my sister from me, I will take you away from him. It’s my kind of revenge.”

“You’re crazy.”

“Oh, yeah?” He smirked but once again quickly turned serious. “Whose fault is that?”

“Why would you think would I agree to that?” You tilted you chin up, trying to defy him. Too bad, it was futile. The corner of his mouth went up again. “Because you’ve got no other option.”

“You’re insane.”

“Crazy? Insane? Well, maybe you could come up with something more colorful after this.” He grabbed your nape and captured you sinfully pink lips. The table wasn’t able to hinder him from giving you something that would shake your world.

—

Your heart was pounding as you proceeded to enter your house. You still couldn’t believe what just happened thirty minutes ago. The Sunghoon whom you secretly love, and the friend who suddenly left you and your brother returned to shake up your world once again.

One slap wasn’t enough for what he did to you. And he has the audacity to be the one walking out after his recklessness.

You touched your lips. Until now, you still feel the young man’s kiss and the warmth of his lips brushing against yours. It was a shocking first time and definitely a memorable one. But despite all that, you felt butterflies in your stomach.

You took a deep breath before walking to the kitchen to get something to drink. But on your way, your gaze drifted towards the study room. The room was slightly ajar. You approached and entered.

You saw your brother sitting on the swivel chair with his eyes closed. He looks beat and tired and it pained you. If there’s only something you could do to help solve this problem, you had already done it.

Then it hit you. You could do something to help you dear brother and fix the problem. Only, there was a price to pay.

It has already been ten years since Sunghoon’s sister died. Maybe it’s time for you to do something to make him forgive your brother and move on. Maybe you could at least give him a bit of happiness, maybe you could do something to bring him back to his old self.

You glanced at your brother. Please, trust me on this.

It would be hard, you knew. But you needed to do something to save them all.

“We’re here,” Sunghoon announced. “Nervous?”

You looked out the car window and surveyed the grand mansion that would become your new home. Your heart was racing, and you felt like your heartbeat was at one hundred and seventy bars per minute. You felt nauseous, your hands were badly sweating and you were having a hard time breathing.

No, you weren’t nervous. You were having an anxiety attack.

Sunghoon unbuckled your seatbelt before holding your face with both hands, waiting for to look into his eyes. His eyes were dark and sensual. Nope, it didn’t help you calm down a bit.

“Are you okay? You look pale.” He asked with concern in his voice. He felt your forehead and neck as if checking if you had a fever.

You felt electricity ran through your body because of his touch. Feeling as if you were burning, you pulled away from him and averted your gaze somewhere else.

“I’m fine. It’s just that, this was all so sudden.” You noticed his expression darken from the corner of your eyes.

“Then get used to it because you’re my wife starting today.”

Before you could even respond, he already exited the car and opened the passenger side door for you. He took the duffle bag containing a few pieces of your clothes. He then held your hand as you both walked towards the mansion.

“Don’t be so stiff, Y/n. There’s no way I would hurt you, you know?”

You knew Sunghoon was telling the truth, but it wasn’t enough to calm you down. He wouldn’t hurt you, he said. Still, he had the power to, especially now that you were married.

It all happened so fast. Just last week you were still a Lee, and you still couldn’t believe that you are now Mrs. Park.

After that night, you went to your bakery and called Sunghoon the next morning. And a week later, you were now married. No entourage, reception or whatsoever.

After the civil wedding with the judge that Sunghoon knew, you went straight to the mansion, you didn’t even manage to say goodbye to your brother who was currently not in korea.

At the mansion’s door, you were both greeted by Aunt Chul, the house keeper. Sunghoon and his sister had nannies when they were children, but they remained closest to the woman.

“Dear!” Aunt Chul greeted you as she gave you a warm hug, then gently held your face as she pulled away.

“How are you? It has been so long and you grew beautifully, Dear.”

Despite everything, you were able to put a happy and genuine smile on your face. “Thank you, Auntie. I’m doing great, and you?”

“Oh, I’m not getting any younger, dear! I think I can count the remaining black hairs I have left.” The woman joked, laughing slightly.

“You still look great, Auntie.” You smiled at her, shaking you head slightly.

“You’re still the same old playful one, aren’t you?” she teased. “Now come get inside, I prepared you both something to eat.”

She turned to Sunghoon and looked at him. “Let me take that bag, son.”

“Oh, no. We can handle this, Auntie. Thank you.” He said embracing the elderly person.

“My wife and I are just going to have a talk before we eat.” You froze when you heard him say the word ‘wife’. Yes, there’s no mistaking it. You really are Park Sunghoon’s wife.

When you glanced at the woman, there’s not a trace of surprise marred her serene face, which puzzled you.

“Alright, you know where to go when you two want to eat.” She smiled softly.

Sunghoon guided you upstairs to the room where you’re staying.

The room was definitely Sunghoon, very neat and manly. The walls were painted white, accommodating the rich hue of the big bed and built-in cabinets. Everything was well placed and clean.

“You may find my room dull and boring.” He said as he placed your bag on the side of the dresser. “But you may refurnish it however you like. Have the walls painted, the curtains changed. Just don’t put too much pink.”

You blushed at what he said, you were a girl who has a deep obsession with color pink ever since. And it seems like he still remembers that about you. But as much as you wanted to renovate the room and make it appear more your style, you wouldn’t do so. You liked the room as it was.

You didn’t notice Sunghoon approaching, so you gasped when you felt your husband pulling you by the waist closer to him.

“Let’s talk.”

“Y-yes, of course – Sunghoon!” You let out a small scream as the strong man lifted you up, and you had no choice but to wrap your arms around his shoulders.

“Sunghoon, what the hell are you doing?”

“I was supposed to carry you over the threshold, but I knew that you would snap at me if Aunt Chul sees us.” He answered with a gorgeous grin on his face. For a minute, he looked like the boy you used to know.

The guy you used to love.

But no matter how handsome the young man appeared to you now, you still couldn’t stop the seething the anger in your heart towards him.

“And you think I wouldn’t do that now? I did that once before, I could do it again.”

“Oh, trust me. I’m more prepared this time.” He said with a twinkle in his eyes. He dropped you onto the bed and hovered above you. You gasped for air when you felt his hard body on top of yours. You were sure that when you entered this room, the AC was on, but for some reason the air became thick and hot and filled with desire.

“I t-thought we’re going to talk?” Your voice was shaky and far different from you challenging voice earlier.

“We are. We’ll talk like this.” He lowered his head and nestled into your neck. You had never been intimate with any man. This was new to you. Your heart was beating wildly and you afraid Sunghoon would hear it.

You felt so warm, it was as if your bones were melting. It felt good to be this close to him. And he had been hugging you for a while now. He was the only man who could make you feel extreme emotions.

“I told them about us.” You heard him mumble, his hot breath licking your cold neck.

“You… what?” You asked, disoriented.

“I told everyone in this house about us. Even my dad that’s currently in Japan.” He lifted his head and looked at you as if you as if he wanted to know what you were thinking, if not to absorb your very soul.

“You told them about our agreement?”

“No, I only told them that we were getting married. That I couldn’t wait about Dad’s arrival. That we saw each other again, and instantly fell in love. So make sure to be a loving wife to me, especially in front of them.”

As if he needed to say it. “Of course. But I hope you don’t forget about the other part of the agreement. The money, Sunghoon. I need it.”

“I didn’t forget about that. I’ll give it to your brother as soon as I see him.”

“Glad to hear tha—“

Sunghoon slowly lowered his head, your eyes widened. “Wait, what are you-“

“You’re mine, Y/n. Including your body.” He said with his tempting mouth.

You wanted to stop him and tell him to stop what he was doing, but no words came out of your lips. Instead, a sound coming from your stomach halted your husband’s advances. You didn’t know whether to feel embarrassed or thankful. You were saved, not by the bell, but by your tummy.

God! Sunghoon didn’t need to smile, amusement was in his eyes.

“Maybe we should eat first.” Sunghoon withdrew from being pressed against you, stood up, and extended his hand towards you.

“Come.” You hesitantly took his hand and stood up as well, feeling quite embarrassed.

“Do you still know the way to the dining room?” He asked as you refused to meet his gaze, just nodding in response.

“Do you mind going there alone? I just needed to call someone. I’ll join you in a few minutes.”

You just nodded again and quickly left the room. Usually, after the wedding comes the honeymoon. Or in your case, funnymoon.

—

The moment you—or rather, his wife—stepped outside, Sunghoon finally let go of the smile he had been holding back.

Yes, you had become matured and become tough over the past few years, but in many ways, you still hadn’t really changed. You were still funny, cute, adorable, and his.

His previously bright face was now replaced by a blank expression. Finally, Heeseung would experience what it was like to lose someone important to him. The only difference is that no one would die.

He wouldn’t hurt you, at least, not intentionally ang physically. Never. Heeseung was still lucky that Sunghoon had some semblance of a heart left.

All he wanted was to emotionally torture him. He would make his heart bleed in sorrow, until he would beg him to stop.

And that would start now.

He picked up his phone and dialed a number. On the third ring, the person he was trying to reach answered.

“Yes, hello?”

His grip on the device tightened upon hearing the voice of the man he despises.

“Heeseung.”

He could taste the bitterness in his own voice. The man on the other line wasn’t able to respond immediately, so he continued.

“I heard you’re not in korea right now.”

“No, I’m not. What do you need, Sunghoon?”

He asked directly, without preamble.

Nothing, you’re the one who’s going to need something from me.

“Nothing, really. But if I were you, I’d go back to korea right now.”

He could already see the furrow on his former friend’s face. Soon he would face his range, but instead of being afraid, he would actually be glad to see it.

“What do you mean by that?”

“It’s Y/n. She left your house and she’s with me now. Too bad you weren’t there when she left.”

It was a shame for Sunghoon the he couldn’t see firsthand how the person on the other line is reacting.

He bet it would be priceless.

“You son of a bitch. What did you do to her?!”

He heard the grinding of his interlocutor’s teeth making him chuckle sarcastically.

“You asshole!”

“Yeah, Heeseung. Curse me all you want, but I’ll make sure that you will never get see your sister again. I will make you pay for all the things you did. Prepare yourself because I will take you to the hell you put me through.”

He ended the call. With his hands shaking, he exhaled sharply. He forced himself to calm down before he began to walk out of the room.

Maybe he shouldn’t have gone to the dining room just yet. He’s still feeling the anger coursing through his body, and he didn’t want anyone to see him like that, especially you.

But when he saw your beautiful face with a smile plastered on it while chatting with Aunt Chul, the heavy emotions enveloping him suddenly dissipated.

While looking at you glowing face, he lost the bitterness and pain that he had been feeling. Your bright smile simply made the pain go away. He was certain of what he was feeling. About his fear ang pain going away.

He took a deep breath once again ang approached the two, specifically you. He leaned down and kissed you on the forehead, disregarding the watchful eyes of the elderly person nearby.

“What are you two talking about?” He asked. Aunt Chul smiled at him and seemed to chat with him like a child.

“I never knew Y/n had a bakeshop in town. If I’m not mistaken, one of the helpers bought the bread I liked there. Turns out Y/n was the owner.”

He sat beside you and held your hand, giving it a tight squeeze. “Yeah, her pastries and sweets are indeed famous in town.” He stated, smiling proudly.

“Y/n also told me the she hasn’t had a boyfriend. She had suitors, but didn’t accept any of them.” The woman gossiped.

“Auntie!” You playfully reprimanded the her.

Sunghoon threw a glance at you. “Oh?”

His face lit up, secretly smiling to himself. So it was likely that the guy named Jake whom your employees were referring to was you suitor. He suddenly felt relieved. He glanced at your plate that is still empty.

“You haven’t eaten yet?” He asked you as you shook your head in response.

“Not yet. I was busy chatting with auntie.”

“Tell you what, Sunghoon. Your wife was just really waiting for you to come here.” Aunt Chul remarked.

“Alright, I’ll leave you two love birds alone to enjoy your food.”

Once the two of you were left alone, Sunghoon couldn’t help but let a smile spread across his face.

“So, you were waiting for me, huh?” He said teasingly.

“I wasn’t waiting for you. The conversation with Auntie just really hit the spot.”

“Yeah, sure. Let’s eat.”

They ate in silence. You sat beside him quietly with your head bowed as you eat. You were like some kind of a shy teenager sitting next to her crush.

Sunghoon smiled a little as he remembered their happy memories. You were just like this back then when you two are being teased together. You would blush furiously and he just enjoy the teasing.

“I’ll go upstairs to take a shower ang get changed.” You said after he was done eating.

But before you could fully stand up, he pulled you back into the chair and bestowed a gentle kiss on your lips.

“Please don’t tempt me like that.” Your eye widened and your lips parted in surprise. Your face reddened and he couldn’t stop himself from grinning. You quickly stood up and rushed away from him.

Well, it was useless since no matter what you do, you were already his. Nothing could ever separate you from him, not even your brother.

Sunghoon’s smile faded, and his eyes grew cold.

You would be forever his, and you had no idea of what the future lies ahead of you.

THE MORE IS READ THE MORE SHOCKED IT GOT WHEJKSKSKSKALSSN OMG JAY BABE???? WDYM „ring we picked last time“ ???????

𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐁𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 – 𝟓𝟖

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐘𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓: 𝐦𝐲 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧

↬ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

↬ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬!𝐀𝐔, 𝐂𝐄𝐎!𝐉𝐚𝐲, 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

← 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 — 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 →

(A/N: we literally only have two chaps and the epilogue left this is CRAZY 🤕 thank you guys so, so much for all the love and support, am sending everyone kisses pls accept them as a form of gratitude 🥺 i love you all sm💞 feedback is always appreciated!!!💞🧸)

TAGLIST CLOSED: @soonigiri @xrr-s4sha @kwiwin @heelcvr @deobitifull @kpoprhia @doodlelibrary @abrazosolorcereza @certifiedmoa @sleeping-demons @heerinnie @ohmy-moonlightx @heeswif3y @hoonieluv @fakeuwus @jongszn @cheybabey @ineedsomezzz @super-amberlynn @kshoshi @tinie03 @jseongies @mimikittysblog @primroselover @heebrry @jebetwo @donghyckl @07myonlylove @enhamysunshines @quemirasboboandapaya @lostwonderwall @seuomo @enhaz1 @teawithbucky @beomgyusonlywife @dammit-jjk @lhsvibez @azurez @boutyouwonu @finchyyy @ocyeanicc @jaylaxies @in-somnias-world @zerasari @spookyauthorspopmusictrash @capri-cuntz @fluerz @3amstarlight

I will kms this is too cute, it's 5:13 am rn omd 😭

୨ৎ — With Love, Sunghoon

pairing: non-idol!sunghoon x fem-reader

synopsis: Almost is sometimes never enough, Sunghoon needed a tutor and Y/N needed the extra credit. What happens when two failed lovers meet again after years of running away and misunderstandings?

w/c: 23.3K :o

tags: teacher x teacher, first love, baby baby (?) angst, sunghoon kinda a dick, then he turns into a loser LOL, lots of gussy gussy fluff at the end, niki and jungwon cameo as hoon’s gremlins. And yes hoon blonde obsession.

a/n: oh em gee, its been MONTHS. been so busy with irl stuff and other responsibilities I've neglected dazed-hee </3. BUT pls expect more content to come out soon because I am stressed and writing helps me destress HAHAHA. ending is not how I would like but I honestly did not want to scrap this fic and start a new ): this is little fic was supposed to be a present for my hoon girlie @hoonvrs AND IT STILL IS! i hope everyone enjoys and pls lml what you think! ALSO With Love Series going on mini break bc I have so so many ideas I want to write about I can't be limited to this series ASDAKJSD

likes & reblogs are encouraged thank you!!

“So class I’m happy to say you don’t have any homework this weekend.” You sighed, placing all the files you went through from the past hour on the side as the class cheered lightly,  some even clapping at the thought of a free weekend mixed with fun and more studying.. 

“But—” you interjected, biting back a small smile as some of them instantly stopped cheering; some even holding in groans while you pointed at the calendar on the wall. 

“Don’t be surprised if you walk into class Monday with a quiz on your desk about cell biology and functions.” You hastily announced, a slight grin on your face finally hearing the groans and complaints travel through the room, quickly turning around you began cleaning the whiteboard while bidding goodbye to your students. 

“Hey be happy it wasn’t a real pop quiz— and I told you what unit it’s going to be about!” You reasoned out loud in the hall, smiling at some of the girls in your class who argued it was guys in the back doing most of the complaining. Compared to the other teachers you felt like you were quite lenient with the students, making class and learning as interactive and fun as possible. Being one of the youngest teachers you made it your job to sympathize with the students since you were in their position not that long ago. 

“Ah wait–” You called out, grabbing onto two sneaky individuals hiding behind the girls on the way out. 

“I need you two to stay back for an hour of tutoring starting next week. If you don’t you won’t have a passing grade for eligibility.” You warned. 

“Ms.Kim please our coach moved practice to after school hours and he’s been really strict about being there.” the boy plead, his eyes glistening brightly looking down at you. 

“Well Jungwon maybe we shouldn’t have failed the last unit exam and for you Niki— start doing corrections you’ll earn half your points back.” You nodded toward the other who was sulking softly. You knew the pressures and tight schedules student-athletes went through and you honestly felt bad, the two weren’t even doing terribly you just wanted to make sure they had leisure with their grades when it came to eligibility check. 

“What about I have a talk with your Coach and have him push back practice by an hour or something, I’m only doing this for the two of you; trust me I know what it feels like.” You sighed patting their shoulders as they nodded to your offer. Heading to the faculty room you were greeted by other teachers finishing up for the day, you weren’t sure who this new coach was but practice usually took place early mornings. Partly so it doesn’t run into afterschool activities and studying sessions but also because the weather was more favorable most of the time. 

“Ms.Kim, how are you today?” Your boss greeted you by the printer, greeting her back with a smile you saw the way some of the female coworkers were actively glancing out the window, chatting amongst each other with shy grins painting their lips. 

“I’m doing good Mrs.Go, just printing out a few practice sheets for tutoring starting soon.” 

The older lady nodded at you with a warm smile, when you first got the job a little over two years ago Ms.Go stepped up as the new principal from her vice position. You’ve always felt welcomed because of her and she always had nothing but good and encouraging things to say to and about you.

“I’m glad you’ve found your pacing with the students, I get nothing but compliments from them and their parents— keep up the good work.” she rubbed your shoulder softly bidding you goodbye. Shaking out a small sigh you stood tapping the table as the beeping of the machine printed what felt like endless amounts of pages.

“Oh my god he’s so good-looking.” 

“Did you see when he was running with the students earlier?”

“I heard he’s the new literature teacher who’s also coaching the basketball team.” 

Gathering your things you acknowledged your coworker's excited expressions; curiosity overtaking as you made your way to the window to see what all the fuss was about, all you could see were the student-athletes running back inside towards the gym. A flash of blonde catches your eye before forcing yourself to peel away knowing there were lots to do and students to expect soon.

Seeing a few students greet you on the way back to class had your shoulders high in pride at the familiar faces of kids you’ve tutored before. Many of them respected you as a teacher but also saw you as a friend— well most. 

“Ms.Kim!” turning at the group of boys your brow raised as a few of them offered to help carry the stack of papers you were gripping back to class, their shoulders bumping against each other to gain your attention which only prompted a short scoff under your breath. Being one of the younger teachers you also noticed the uncanny amount of attention you received from students, girls asking for advice about dating and what to look forward to in college while the boys were being— well boys.

“Coach is looking for you guys, something about wanting to run another lap.” cutting between them you were glad Jungwon showed up when he did, brows furrowed slightly at some of them murmuring lowly to each other. After everyone left the boy greeted you with a dimple, one you saw frequently in class from what you recalled.

“I talked to Coach and I don’t think he’s willing to push back practice.” You heard him sigh, placing the stack of paper he insisted to carry on your desk as you pushed your fingers into the back of your dress pants.

“Well I would love to talk to your Coach, he knows if you and Niki don’t qualify for eligibility you won’t be able to play till the next check, right?” Your voice confused with shock seeing the boy nod with a conflicted expression on his face. 

“Where’s Niki?” You asked softly sitting at your desk checking the time on your wristwatch knowing students were going to show up anytime soon. 

“He’s distracting Coach Park while I’m here.” 

“Well tell Coach Park, when he’s done with practice to come to my class.” You ordered him, filing some notes in the file cabinet before standing up heading to the lab stations. With a nod Jungwon left swiftly, his sneakers squeaking against the tile floor as you leaned against the table, appreciating the evening sun seeping through the tall windows lining the class walls with your eyes closed. 

A knock on your door pulled you from your thoughts realizing some of your students came for their quick tutoring session. “Alright, should we get started?” You greeted them, a feeling of sentiment washed over you. 

It was bittersweet in a way. 

“Ms.Kim we’re almost done with the worksheet!” 

“Okay once you’re done just leave it on my desk and you three are free to leave.” You nodded, going back to the rows of beakers and test tubes you were prepping for the planned lab on Monday. You’ve always loved science, being a biochemist double major in college, you’re practically a pro at handling bunsen burners and microscopes. You weren’t sure when you decided to be a teacher and to be completely fair, you’ve never thought to be one when asked about your future endeavors as a kid.

But maybe it was from the multiple classmates you’ve tutored as a side job and extra credit, you found you had a talent for working with others and teaching them what you’ve mastered best. The satisfaction of seeing others click with the information and concepts you present always made you proud, proud that they could grasp complex ideas, and proud that you were an influence and part of the reason why. Nostalgia overtook your thoughts recalling back about your college days, from friends to strangers and those in between. 

Brushing your fingers against the clear tubes absentmindedly, a bitter smile took your lips— almosts were never enough sometimes. It was nearing five in the evening and you were finishing the final touches to each station carefully, making sure all the lab equipment was properly placed for the students, by now the ones who came have left and you were here alone in your thoughts.

“I heard you wanted to speak with me about something?” You heard someone call from the door, slightly muffled as you were quickly packing up the mess you made from preparations into the table cabinets below. 

“Yeah actually, it’s about your afternoon practices—” You replied slightly vexed, none of the other coaches have changed their practice hours so you weren’t sure why the basketball team in particular did. 

“I won’t be able to change or push back practice since that’s the only time that works for us.” huffing out a sigh you quickly set the extra box of test tubes back into their protective cases in the lower cabinets. 

“Okay well, you know if your athletes don’t qualify for eligibility they won’t be able to play correct?” confused as to why you weren’t getting a response you stood up with a huff. Your eyes widened while your words jumbled to get out, realizing who the new coach was and who you were talking to. 

It’s been a while, years to be exact since you last had eyes on him. He was blonde now, and it fit him well; just as tall as you remember taking in the way he was leaning against the door frame with his hands shoved in track pants. His slightly raised shoulders and wide eyes told you he was just as surprised to see you, a stoic expression overtaking his shocked one when he straightened his posture. 

He was exactly the same as he was before, but so different. 

“Sunghoon?” his name became foreign to you over time, like a bitter fruit you bit into and wished to forget. A wave of emotions swirled across your face you were sure of it. His eyes flickered around the classroom and a small sigh could be heard through the thick tension that had formed between you two. 

“Looks like you’re doing well,” he mumbled jingling the keys in his pockets as he watched your frown deepen further. 

“I’m not changing practice times Y/N, don’t ask me again.” his voice was firm and cold, you saw the way his eyes flickered over you once more before turning to leave.

After your brief conversation with Sunghoon, he left you standing there questioning if what just happened— really happened. With both of your hands gripping the table behind you, the sound of him making his way through the hall confirmed that it was indeed Sunghoon.

Park Sunghoon whom you fell in love with in college, Park Sunghoon who also broke your heart as well. It was him. He was the new coach that is already causing trouble the same way he did back then in your mundane life.

“Alright and the enzymes only react during the active site, get it?” Tapping your pen against the desk you sighed out of relief seeing your classmate nod enthusiastically finally understanding the unit concepts from the past lectures. It was warm, with the University library lined with large windows you wouldn’t be able to get a good nap here without the bright sun bearing down on your back, that’s why people nap in the reserved study rooms instead.

“So if the enzymes are heated or enter a different pH environment what happens then?” You asked carefully— there was no hope for the kid but for extra credit, your professor offered you to tutor students. You could only hope a higher being blessed you with the ability to input knowledge into these empty vessels because fuck; how were people this bad at studying? 

“They become unnaturalized?” She answered unconfidently, eyes lighting up seeing how your head tilted giving her a slight sound of approval. It was wrong but at least it was close.

“Close, denatured,” closing the workbook you nodded slightly acknowledging this was a lot better than when you first began tutoring her. “Keep studying like this and you’ll be caught up before the final in no time.” You smiled softly as she quickly packed her things. 

Oh, the things you did for extra credit, from extra lab hours to volunteer research assignments you needed every single point you could gain to balance out the fact you had no extracurricular and social hours to back up your pretty GPA. 

“Thank you Y/N it feels so good to finally understand what’s going on in class.” she gratefully thanked you, gripping the extra workbooks you recommended to her enthusiastically. With a smile, you bid her goodbye before peering back down at your laptop to see what you had next— a meeting with your professor. 

“I must say the classmates you are tutoring have been improving quite a bit, slowly but surely.” Your professor said looking at his notes with a satisfied nod. It was true, it started with your friend Naeun who was failing before despite passing with flying colors now. You now tutored kids who weren’t even from your own lecture, some in different years even.

 “If there are any other students you need me to tutor I’ll be more than happy to take them during my free time.” You added quickly, rubbing your palms against your jeans to mask the shake in your leg from his peripheral. 

Before he could answer, a knock on the door caused you to turn as a rather tall boy came in with a guitar case in one hand and a packet of papers in the other. With his hair messily put together he looked like every other boy in your class, but the moment his eyes met yours you quickly shifted back into your seat; trying your best to avoid the heat running through your face. 

“Professor Lee I’m here to talk about my exam..” he announced demeaningly. You could only watch as the older male stood up, pulling the boy to sit beside you in the empty seat while you shifted looking at the grade on his recent exam. 

Yikes.

“Sunghoon this is Y/N she’s in your lecture and also one of my tutors.” you reluctantly nodded toward him in acknowledgment as he did the same. “She’s one of my best students and I’m asking her to tutor you in hopes it’ll bring your grade up so you can pass the class.” With wide eyes, you glanced at Sunghoon, a hand rubbing the nape of his neck assuming he was weighing out the options he didn’t really have. 

“And you know you need to pass the class to graduate Sunghoon, I advise you to do your best with Y/N or you’ll run into big trouble once finals come.” He sighed, gathering his things while glancing at the clock on the wall. While bidding the two of you goodbye, you faintly heard him whisper to the boy a small ‘be nice to her’ before the door closed shut. Picking up your bag you pulled your phone out looking at your rather busy calendar for an open spot in your schedule. 

“I’m free every Tuesday Wednesday and Friday in the late afternoon, just pick two days and let me know before next week. Or you could tell Professor Lee and he’ll relay the info to me.” you could only give him a shy smile despite him sitting there blinking at you. With an awkward nod, you gave him one last forced grin before making your way toward the door.

“Wait!” His sudden exclamation startled you slightly, a quizzical stare greeting him while your fingers were already grazing the cold door handle.

“Where are you going right now?” He briefly asked, adjusting the grip on his guitar case while stuffing his exam back into his backpack. 

“The library.”

“I’ll come with.” 

Your solo studying session today suddenly turned into a plus one, watching as your new friend pull his things from his bag, you failed to hold the slight snicker earning his curiosity. Shrugging at his raised brow, you opened your laptop pulling out a practice workbook with a smile.

“Could’ve fooled me with that study setup if you never told me you were failing Biology.” You nodded at his set of pencils and eraser neatly placed in front of him, his frown turning into a grin knowing you were right, unfortunately. 

“Listen I’m good at everything but science, it might be hard to imagine but I’m a TA for my English professor.” he boasted proudly, sitting up in his seat as you smiled humming in acknowledgment. 

“Oh and to answer your question from earlier, I’m able to do Tuesdays and Wednesdays, I just finished an important project so I should be available a lot more often now.” He politely added, taking in your gaze as you nodded slowly before turning back to your workbook. 

After an hour of studying you noticed Sunghoon was actually quite diligent, not getting distracted by his phone nor did he daze into space even you’d catch yourself doing at times. If this was your conclusion then you weren’t sure where his problem was that had him failing— terribly. 

“That’s wrong.” You softly stopped him, pointing at the question he’s been working on for the past couple of minutes after seeing the frustrated expression overtake his face promptly. 

“I’m not good with genetics, I get the whole structure and basic….stuff, but once it gets to this I get lost.” He admitted running his fingers through his hair. Peeling your gaze away from the mole beside his jaw you coughed before opening up your notes.

“From what I see you're making it way more difficult than it should be—” You started, pulling your chair beside his before sliding your tablet across the table with a holistic breakdown of the concepts you took notes on for the genetics unit. After a few minutes of explaining and correcting his question, you allowed him to scroll through your notes a little longer, grinning at the fascinated look in his eye as he complimented the way your notes looked. 

“I can send you the notes later if you like them that much.” You chuckled, scooting your chair back after feeling his elbow graze your own, a little too close you figured. Hearing no response your eyes naturally found his again realizing he was looking between you and the space now in between. Once he realized you were waiting for a response, he pushed your tablet toward you quickly, his pen tapping against the table softly with a nod.

“Please if you don’t mind, I don’t know how you have time to do them like that they’re really nice.” He complimented, checking his phone before handing it to you with the contacts app opened. “Well I don’t do much of anything else so I have a lot of time to spare.” You snickered. 

“Oh come on, nothing? Like nothing seriously?” He asked you again, holding back a wide grin noting your name displayed on the screen along with your number. “Why do I look like I do a lot of stuff?” You questioned, his nod surprising you somewhat. 

“Yeah I mean, our classmates always say how fun and nice you are to be around so I just assumed,” he explained truthfully, from what he’s heard, a lot of your classmates had nothing but good things to say to you. 

“I only go out with a few of my close friends from time to time but seeing that you pretty much—”  glancing at his duffle bag you assumed was for whatever club he was a part of and his guitar case beside it; you could tell he was a busy man. “ —you literally do everything, it could look like not much for you.” You smiled genuinely. 

“Well trust me when I say I rather have a few things to focus on over this,” he emphasized, nodding toward all his things, earning a wholehearted laugh from you quickly disagreeing. 

“Yeah? I really wish I could put myself out there like that, I’m tutoring to make up for the fact I don’t do anything else but study.” You shook your head, playing with the pen between your fingers with your gaze set on the sunlighy shining on the table.

“Well I wish I didn’t do all of–”

“Don’t lie.” You cut him off, turning towards him quickly causing the both of you to laugh softly, your lips turned into a grin as you forcefully peeled your gaze away from his dimple that caught your eye. Sunghoon could only admire you from the side, smugly grinning at how you’d get so shy from meeting his gaze while your fingers busied themselves playing with the pages from your notebook. 

He understood why all the guys on the team wanted you as their tutor, what was better than a pretty girl spending her evening with you in the library or cafe? Your cute flustered expression when he smiled at you or when he caught you smiling back, it all made sense to him. Sunghoon made a mental note to inform the others you weren’t looking for any more tutees, and he only hoped they will believe him.

When he was called into the professor's office he really thought it was the end for him, with graduation around the corner and a science class holding him back from sweet victory; nervousness was an understatement. Shitting his pants would’ve been a better way to describe the feeling pooling in his gut when he saw a big red 43 plastered on the recent unit exam. But when he saw your small confused face peering up at him he knew he lucked out this time. 

You were known to take kids who look like they don’t have a single thought behind their eyes and tutor them into high B passing students. He was sure anyone else tutoring him would’ve helped with an extra brain processing his mistakes, but he was glad it was you. 

Third week of tutoring and you noted Sunghoon worked hard— and worked harder when he knew there was a reward for his accomplishments. A coffee stop before class or a meal before practice, you kept your promise and rewarded him for the commitment you knew he put in. What started as a reward for his improving quiz grades turned into what you felt was a normalized occurrence.

‘Wanna grab a meal from the cafeteria? I’ll drop you off after.’

‘Let’s meet before class for a bit, I want to see you.’

‘Are you free later today? We should go watch that new movie you were talking about.’

He explained it was just the athlete in him addicted to the dopamine he got when he succeeded, specifically doing good in class; but you argued it was just a way for him to trick you to agree into doing things he wanted. Hell he didn’t even know how dopamine worked up until last week’s study session. 

“Sunghoon you can literally ask for anything else, I’ll even buy you dinner again just not this.” You sighed, holding up the singular ticket he presented you as his wish for earning a 90 on his exam; the highest he’s received yet. 

“Y/N you said I can ask for whatever I wanted.” he pointed out, tapping the back of your seat with his fingers watching you groan at the thought of attending this weekend. 

“This is seriously what you want?” watching his court nod your lips pressed in a tight line before sighing in defeat. A promise is a promise, and you were one to keep promises. 

“Fine just please study this well for the next exam coming up.” You didn’t earn a response, but the cheeky dimple and upturned brows told you that if studying well meant pulling you to do things like attending his game to support him— Sunghoon promised to turn into Einstien. He’ll be reborn as Issac Newton himself if that’s what it took. 

“Oh and—” turning back to him your eyes widened slightly feeling his fingers graze against your back, a simple action you still haven’t grown used to lately. “Sunghoon, no.” you refused shaking your head wholeheartedly, seeing him pull out a jersey from his duffle bag with a smirk on his face as he laughed to himself.

“You didn’t even let me explain.” He reasoned, eyes twinkling watching you continue to disagree, mumbling about how ridiculous this was since you already agreed to even go in the first place. 

“Y/N how weird would it be to show up and not show off who you’re supporting?” He hummed, pushing his jersey from last year over to your side. “Hoon I think people are gonna think it’s weird regardless.” You whispered, knowing the type of people he was around would already view it odd you came in the first place. Sunghoon was someone you thought you’d only admire from afar, his likable personality and seemingly good looks made a memorable first impression not only on you but apparently to every living— breathing eligible girl on campus.

The looks and whispers anyone with a working brain would dread were to be expected if you walked into that stadium with his jersey, you were already getting looks from simply walking with him to class. 

Sunghoon was just someone you weren’t supposed to mingle with, as crazy as it sounded; opposites weren’t supposed to attract. There were plenty of girls in his social circle you knew were interested in him— it just felt wrong, scary even that you and Sunghoon were this close. 

“Hey…don’t think like that,” He reassured you, brushing a few strands of hair away while you stared at him, admiring the pinches of electricity shifting across your cheek when his fingertips grazed against your skin. In the many weeks you and Sunghoon have hung out, you realized he was a lot different from what you assumed. 

He was sensitive; you concluded that when he received his first quiz two weeks after your first session. His grade wasn’t— what the two of you were aiming for, and it was evident in his expression how disappointed he was in himself. After your constant reassurance that learning was about process and progress; not instant results, you grew to appreciate his soft grin and high shoulders that were filled with confidence and motivation. 

But he was also very attentive, even on days you didn’t feel your best Sunghoon was always understanding without having to say anything. And you were grateful, you tend to hold back and push through with plans even when you didn’t feel in the best shape, especially for your tutees. Sunghoon didn’t jest around much on days he saw you weren’t responding how you usually did, and he still managed to find time to ask if you were okay. Cheering you up in ways that had your cheeks flushing and heart racing. 

It was like skinship came naturally for the two of you, what started off as friendly nudges and taps on the arm shifted to his hand casually drawing lines on your back, your fingers tracing the veins on his arm or your shoulders casually touching while sitting beside one another. Things just felt comfortable with him, you realized that the one day the two of you were at his apartment, the library was starting to become a distraction but looking back— you weren’t sure if his place was much better.

While working on genomes and thermodynamics the two of you often shared snacks with one another, however when your eyes caught his pink lips around your bottle of coke you realized then and there that you and Sunghoon were more than tutor and tutee, more than friends. He made that known when you felt the same pink lips press a kiss on your temples after bidding you goodbye, making sure you made it inside your condo before he left, a small pep in his step noted while catching one last glimpse at him.

“Just think about it, hm?” he nodded toward you, bottom lip pulled between his teeth watching you roll your eyes before stuffing the jersey in your bag, ushering him to continue studying much to his resistance. 

“So are you gonna wear his jersey?” your friend sang with a smirk ghosting her lips, watching you hastily fix your hair in the mirror that she quickly helped you with not that long ago, fixing the top you picked to avoid that exact question purposely. It was the day of his game and you were already running slightly (really) behind schedule from a last-minute tutoring session you were asked to do despite making sure to state this weekend— you were unavailable. 

The game started a couple of minutes ago and it would take almost thirty minutes for you to get to the arena.

“Do I look good?” You asked her nervously, palms clammy against your jeans realizing what you got yourself into. 

“You look cute babe, Sunghoon is gonna miss every three-pointer with you in the crowd.” She joked, yelping in response when a dry shampoo bottle was thrown her way. “Naeun I’m serious, people are already gonna look at me weird for being there— the least you can do is make sure nothing is stuck between my teeth.” You whined, checking yourself in the mirror again out of pure paranoia.

“Y/N the only reason why they’ll be looking at you is because the Y/N is there for Park Sunghoon, so go! You’re late already.”

“Your seat is in row 4, enjoy! Go Cougs!” Awkwardly grabbing the ticket you were greeted by rows and rows of students cheering for the ongoing game, it was almost halftime and the team was a little under fifteen points. Excusing yourself through the crowd— you realized where exactly Sunghoon’s extra ticket landed you. 

Maneuvering through, you did your best to ignore the glances from some of the girls you recognized, they were people who frequently hung around the team; people whose crowd you weren’t a part of. Gratefully you weren’t seated beside any of them but figured this was the guest section for the team, you saw both students and family seated in the area. 

“Oh? Are you here for Sunghoon hyung?” A voice pulled you from your observation, glancing down you noted a younger boy looking up at you; dressed in your school colors with a sticker decorating his rather full cheek— a slushy in one hand and a pretzel in the other. He was cute, his wide eyes waiting for your answer as you smiled at how adorable he looked. 

“What made it obvious?” You asked him in a whisper, giggling slightly when his eyes crinkled in a smile pointing back at you. 

“Y/N!” Sunghoon’s sudden voice made you snap your gaze to the court, your eyes meeting his almost instantly. Breathing was human nature, a biological process of the body responding to your blood oxygen levels with an automatic retort that you’re born with instantly; yet somehow when you see Sunghoon every now and then, you forget how to breathe sometimes. 

The few strands of hair sticking against his temples distract you from his absolutely dazzling smile and shining eyes that grew in size making you smile shyly. Glancing down, you coughed awkwardly, feeling his jersey's smooth fabric against your fingers. Before heading out the door, the white jersey caught your eye and had you changing in the livingroom before leaving.

You were here for Sunghoon and you wanted him to feel like you were too, and by the deep dimple showcasing on his face, you knew you made the right decision. 

Raising your brow— you quirked your head towards the scoreboard, you didn’t need to say anything because Sunghoon knew exactly what you meant from your expression alone. 

‘You invited me to your game just to lose?’ snickering at the way drops of sweat shook from the tips of his hair, you scoffed watching his shoulders raise proudly when a few of his teammates noted your presence in the crowd. You were never one to be interested in sports, but after another quarter into the game; you were one of the many that were standing in your seat, watching the tick of the clock count down and the score narrow with each pass on the court. 

“Sunghoon..” You whispered, fingers clutching in anxiety noting the clock hitting the twenty-second mark, he needed to shoot a three-pointer for the team to finally take the lead and ultimately win the game. With his eyes darting across the court Sunghoon has never felt this much pressure in his whole entire life. The game was whatever, he had plenty more games to play and win, but the past few months have been hell for him. 

With graduation around the corner, he didn’t really have any more time to ‘play’ on the court, plans after graduation? No clue. Did he have enough credits to actually graduate? Another problem at a later time. Was the girl he’s been dying to ask out finally warming up to him? Well... 

Meeting you has been one of the best if not the best thing that has happened to him in a while, not only were you practically carrying him to the graduation finish line, you seemed to make even the unexpected— exciting, comforting even. Things just got more bearable for him since you’ve been around.

Even now with the whole fate of the game twirling between his fingers, he couldn’t help but smile knowing you were there in the crowd, there for him. The moment he saw you sitting in his jersey he knew these feelings weren’t just mere lingering feelings that come and go, what a plot twist you were. 

“Sunghoon!” Your voice always caught his attention, even now in a crowd of roaring support or those who wished for the opposite, it was like he could only hear you. He wasn’t sure what to expect when he first walked into the professor's office that one day, but he wouldn’t wish for it any other way. 

“Sunghoon shoot the fucking ball?!” Blinking at your unexpected exclamation his body automatically did what he did best, react in stressful situations— muscle memory from what he recalled you teaching him. With the sound of the ball rolling around the rim, Sunghoon could only let out a sigh of relief when the roar from the student section doubled, quadrupled even after the basketball bounced on the court after scoring the final basket. 

They fucking won.

Jumping from excitement you finally understood why people attend games in person, the experience was so different, exhilarating. It was like regardless of who you were, everyone was there cheering for the same thing, even the girls who were looking at you earlier were cheering with you, bright smiles filled with pride and joy despite how indifferent they were to you earlier. 

In the midst of the crowd, you made your way through the bodies of people making sure to say goodbye to the small boy who accompanied you during the game. You were grateful he made sure to explain the rules of the court— it only made things easier to catch on. Gasping in shock, you felt someone grab your wrist stopping you hastily, Sunghoon. 

“Congrats on winning Hoon!” You cheered, smiling widely as other students and teammates congratulated him with pats on the back and chants of victory. “It’s hard not to when someone yelling at me from the stands, ‘Sunghoon shoot the fucking ball!’ ” he mocked jokingly, his fingers finding the slim of your wrist after you brought your hands up to push his shoulder. With your eyes glued on each other, you couldn’t help but grin softly as you felt his fingers melt down your wrist and between your own. Even with the chaos around the two of you, with him, things felt like the way they should be.

A comfort you never felt with anyone else in midst of what used to be unfamiliarity. You found yourself following Sunghoon to the celebration after, your laughs filling the night sky as the two of you sat on the rooftop of the science building; looking over a lit-up field filled with Uni students drinking in victory. The cool breeze tickled your lashes as you took in the smell of flowers and plants that lined the railings and wooden pergola that was decorated with string lights. You’ve been here a few times for a couple of labs and projects, legs dangling over the side admiring the sound of distant music from the field afar.

“You take all girls you talk to here after your games?” rolling the bottle of beer between your palms, you raised a brow when he hesitated, his dark ones furrowed as a contemplating hum left his lips. Gapping you slid over slightly, mumbling in disbelief ignoring his chuckle promising he was just joking. 

“You might be like…the third?” He continued, scratching the nape of his neck watching your eyes double in size before you nodded to his honest answer. “So, who was it?” You asked nonchalantly. 

“To be honest I don’t think Sieun counts if she was my lab partner last semester, right?” he sighed, attempting to grab your hand only to be pushed away quickly. Sunghoon loved this part of you, trying your best to hide the relief in your eyes by shaking off the hand he purposely placed on your shoulder. It was cute, your slightly upset expression and groans accompanied by puffed-out cheeks, he loved it all. 

“Sieun?” You repeated, recognizing her as a classmate from your past Chemistry course. You didn’t notice but his eyes were trailing across your shoulders that rose absentmindedly from realization, taking the chance to move closer his lips bit back a smile— glad that your eyes were finally looking up at him. 

Turning away with a cough, you were able to catch yourself before falling right into his little charm, if it wasn’t Sieun there was still another girl who was here before you he hasn’t mentioned. It seemed stupid really, what were you expecting— someone like Sunghoon had girls waiting for him around the corner at every class, he was different from you. It was stupid for you to ask the question knowing you weren’t going to like the answer.

“I guess Professor Oh doesn’t count either— she was the one who lead us up here for the whole experiment and all.” he finally stated, with a sly smile his chuckle rang in your ear watching you realize he was messing with you the whole time. Much to your horror you were glad that was the truth.

With your legs swinging over the side, you flinched slightly when the breeze blew against your skin. It was pretty chilly that night and in a rush you forgot to grab the jacket you had laid out on the couch. The sound of Sunghoon shuffling pulled you back into the moment as you watched him shrug off his varsity jacket, placing it over your shoulders much to your dismay. 

Muttering a small ‘thanks’, you giggled when Sunghoon nudged your side with his elbow, making it annoyingly obvious he wasn’t going to move away anytime soon, you were used to this, his little antics that always had you smiling to the point the apples of your cheeks ached. “Thanks for coming today Y/N— I mean it really.” he softly muttered meeting your eyes that smiled back at him. 

“Of course, I came— I told you I keep promises.” You whispered back, your smiling fading slowly feeling his finger slowly grab onto yours.

“So if you promise to keep coming to my games…you will?” he challenged, gripping your hand softly as you nodded firmly. 

“And you promise we’ll keep studying together, even after the next exam?” 

“Only if you want to Hoon.”

“Then can you promise—” he paused; bringing your intertwined fingers up to his lips, the glint in his eye shining brighter than the string lights that could be mistaken as fireflies above you. It was a feeling you’ve never felt before, you wonder at times if meeting Sunghoon in these circumstances was a coincidence, maybe if you weren’t so different from him you wouldn’t think this was all a mistake. But in moments like this, when it was just the two of you in each other’s ambiance and warmth you hoped those mistakes only took you to the right place— with Sunghoon.

“Promise we’ll stay like this.” his words echoing as the two of you sat gazing at each other intently, his thumb rubbing circles around your skin as you nodded softly with a small smile. How strange was this you thought, sitting here with him felt like a dream— but you were wide awake. Feeling him lean in slightly; your fingers gripped his as the warmth of his sigh cascaded across your cheek, his bangs tickling your forehead feeling his nose brushed against yours softly. Inhaling softly you gasp when his lip touched yours ever so gently, his mole you’ve only glanced at when he wasn’t looking was staring right at you.

“Yo Sunghoon! You going to that party later this week?” A sudden voice surprised you from down below, pulling away quickly you chugged a gulp of beer eyeing the frat symbol on the jacket the boy was wearing. “Yeah, it’s Jay’s birthday, right? Think I promised a friend I was going.” he huffed out, slightly unamused from the disruption leaning on the side with one hand. 

“Hey Y/N…” the guy greeted, his smile hinting a teasing tone before walking away quickly back towards the field. “You should come this weekend it’ll be fun, promise?” You heard him whisper, his lip brushing the shell of your ear softly and you had no choice but to nod.

 And you truly wished you didn’t.

The weekend came in a blink of an eye and you found yourself surrounded by classmates you’ve seen around but never got the chance to mingle with. You would’ve never guessed you’d be asking Naeun for help picking an outfit for tonight but you found yourself not believing in a lot of things when it came to Sunghoon. 

“Waiting for me?” You heard someone say from behind, his familiar warmth spreading across your back as a smile made its way to your lips. “Sunghoon.” You whispered, turning to embrace him as you admired his styled-up hair and simple grin. 

All sense of insecurity washed away feeling him pull you in a hug, greeting his friends passing by with a bright smile as you held your drink over his shoulders; a red cup in one hand while the other patted him softly. You couldn’t help but laugh feeling him turn you in different directions to say hello to everyone greeting him. He was here with you, and he made sure to make that painfully obvious. 

Since that night on the rooftop, neither you nor Sunghoon addressed the almost kiss the two of you shared—embarrassment on your part and your gut, more like Naeun’s input, told you it was gonna happen tonight…something was. At this point, it’s been a few months since you and Sunghoon have grown close, and your feelings have grown over time and so have his affections around you. 

Sunghoon wasn’t afraid to make it known you were with him, whether it be holding your hand as the two of you walked on campus or stopping by classes to pick you up after lectures. He’s made a home in your apartment and you could only wonder where things would lead for the two of you if he just popped the question.

“Sunghoon the girl you showed up with just ran out.” You heard his friend whisper, his eyes suddenly darting around before pulling out his phone. You knew Sunghoon came with a friend, and you couldn’t help but worry as well seeing how panicked he was scrolling through his contacts. You’ve seen her around before, a music major— you guessed the two of them knew each other from a class or club. 

“Hey can you stay here and wait for me? I’ll make it quick I promise baby.” You heard him hastily whisper, leaving you standing there nodding absentmindedly as he made his way through the crowd. 

When twenty minutes turned into an hour, you found yourself sitting on the couch, checking your phone in hopes of seeing his name pop up asking where you were in the unfamiliar place. Your heart immediately jumped feeling the buzz of your notification ignoring the way the people around you were wondering why you were suddenly sitting alone, silently alone after socializing with others not that long ago. 

“Naeun?” You answered quietly, digging your fingers into the fabric of the couch as you tried to tune out the mix of music and voices you couldn’t seem to understand from around you. 

“I’m at the party waiting for Sunghoon but—” You flinched; yelping when someone jumped over you— laughing a hasty ‘sorry’. You reassured her you were fine but by the way your voice was trembling, she knew you were lying. 

Biting your lip you could hear her concern laced voice asking you again if you were okay. Naeun offered to come along but you assured her Sunghoon would take care of you, Sunghoon would be here for you, Sunghoon—-

“Hey you’re here with Park right?” an unfamiliar voice pulled you away from call, a faint ‘I’m on my way’ brushing past your ears. Nodding, your eyes widened in realization it was Sunghoon’s friend from earlier. Naeun had hung up long ago and despite ignoring the male trying to pull you into a conversation, your mind couldn’t help but drift wondering where Sunghoon disappeared off to.

“I’m honestly surprised Sunghoon kept you around for how long he did.” Snapping your attention back to the man, your furrowed brows were enough to tell him he finally piqued your interest. “Sunghoon left a while ago with some girl, she wasn’t the one who he showed up with but he seemed pretty happy to leave.” The male shrugged, your head shaking in disbelief taking another look at your phone still cleared of notifications. 

“No he said he was coming right back— he promised.” You argued softly, tensing when you felt him throw an arm over your shoulder before a red cup disrupted your view. 

You weren’t sure how many cups you’d had since then, the colored lights blurring together while your cheek was leaned against whoever the fuck was closest to you. Naeun was nowhere to be seen and you could feel the alcohol hitting your system harder than it ever had before. Sunghoon still wasn’t here, you didn’t want to believe he left you here for another girl— but with no text and no sign of him anywhere, maybe it was true. His friend from earlier seemed to have disappeared as well, your last memory of him was asking you to take another shot before someone else piqued his interest. 

“Y/N. Y/N stand up.” Shaking your head you threw your arm over the familiar girl who mumbled to whoever was next to you in annoyance. 

“Sunghoon—” 

“He’s not coming let’s go.” You heard her firmly say, dragging you carefully out of the house with your feet tripping over themselves down the stairs. Catching a brief view of the clock you realized it’s been four hours since Sunghoon said he’d be back. 

“Naeun let go he’s coming back!” 

“Y/N he’s not! I asked around while looking for you and they said he fucking left a while ago, he’s not coming so snap out of it.” she struggled to say, her teeth gritting together from dragging you to sit on the curbside watching the realization settle in your eyes he really did leave with someone else—when he promised. 

You were prepared for this, sort of, someone like Sunghoon was just never made to be with someone like you, it was too good to be true. 

You ready for this,or so you thought, the utter realization that maybe this was all fun and games for him until he got bored and moved onto the next. 

You expected this, though you wished for it to never happen, yet somehow it still hurt.

“He promised.” You whispered, a tear escaping down your cheek as Naeun stood there in pity, slowly engulfed in the cloud of grief overtaking your eyes and mind— and all she could do was hope the pain would go away, or so she promised, but since that night you weren’t too sure about promises anymore.

“Ms Kim!” 

“I’m so sorry, is everyone done with the quiz?” You asked while standing from your desk, smiling at the students who nodded in unison as you collected the sheets of paper passed to the front in stacks. You’ve had a rough weekend, on top of preparing for the upcoming faculty meeting you were still processing the reality that Sunghoon was indeed the new teacher in the literature department—and the new coach. With the bell ringing you dismissed everyone who seemed to be in high spirits after hearing that you weren’t assigning any homework for today. 

Sitting back down you hummed in acknowledgment seeing both Jungwon and Niki by your desk, the coffee you had earlier cold in your palms grinning at the both of them shifting in their place nervously. After your talk with Sunghoon last week, the boys told you he was adamant about practice hours— being that stubborn you didn’t expect anything less.

“So can I expect to see the two of you later for tutoring? Or am I going to stop by practice to pull the both of you out myself?” Arduously looking at the two boys, you knew the answer was the latter; by their tight smiles, they didn’t have much of a choice. 

You were hoping— slightly hoping Sunghoon had it in him to not be an asshole making you walk all the way to the gym where practice was being held, especially not in your stilettos. He’s always been this way, the first couple of days the two of you studied together you concluded he wasn’t much of a listener nor much of a compromiser.

And when it was time to start after school tutoring, you could only tap your heel as it’s been ten minutes since you were scheduled to start.

“Mother fucker.” You hushed under your breath, shooting up in your chair hastily, you did your best to ignore the looks from your students waiting for tutoring to start at their desks. With your heels clicking against the tiles you quickly found your way to the gym, the sound of whistles and basketballs bouncing against the gym floor echoed through the opened doors as you walked in. 

It was a familiar feeling, quite familiar noting Sunghoon from across the court with a clipboard in one hand and a whistle in the other. You weren’t sure what overcame you, but you found yourself bee-lining towards the blonde— his brow quirked up from your sudden appearance.

Switching practice times was something Sunghoon just— felt like doing, well not really. Seeing you here was one of the last cursed encounters he expected to face after the last time the two of you met eyes years ago. 

When your widened eyes greeted him that evening, something instantly sparked in him, nostalgia? He wasn’t sure if it was the good or bad kind yet— it felt surreal in a way. The one girl he wished he met sooner back in college was the science teacher at the new high school he was transferred to for the spring semester. 

You were different, so different from the last time he’d seen you. Your usual smile that warmed his heart back then was now replaced with an unfamiliar one, a tired gaze that seemed so distant from the ones that used to look up at him in affection. Your hair was longer than before and it was weird to see you dressed in business attire when he only remembered your casual ones. 

And then it hit him—it has been a while. 

He liked to believe things stayed how they were before, he hoped they did— and maybe they were.

“I told you to change practice hours, how are you a literature teacher who lacks comprehension skills?”

Well, it wouldn’t be the first time he was wrong about something.

Practice was going well today, the students were finally back into a healthy energetic mindset after weeks of exams. He was aware of the eligibility rule and your request but seeing how tired most of them were, he knew it was important to let his athletes have that extra three hours of sleep. As a former student-athlete, Sunghoon knew how important it was for rest and recovery, he’ll do what he has to do to ensure his students got just that. 

“You said I lack comprehension skills?” he huffed amused, his eyes on your figure recovering from walking across campus, your face visibly flushed from being winded and irritated. 

“Ms.Kim this is a closed practice, does that mean you lack common courtesy to follow rules?” he argued back, roughly shoving the clipboard to the assistant without hesitation– earning a surprised grunt from the poor man.

You could practically feel your eye twitch watching the smug look overtake his features, enjoying the frustration seething from your eyes in real time. 

“Maybe don’t leave the gym doors open next time if it’s a closed practice, plus Coach Lee let me in.” You grinned phonily, your upturned smile dropping instantly pushing past him as your eyes scanned the court for Niki and Jungwon. Many of the students greeted you politely despite being in the midst of drills and training. Calling their names they immediately ran towards you, a conflicted expression painting their face as a whistle was blown directly behind you. 

Flinching you were greeted with a now annoyed Sunghoon eyeing the two boys behind you who were ready to leave with their things. 

“Move and I’m not going to repeat myself, Mr.Park.” You exhaled tremulously, your words not really reaching his ears after noticing exactly how close you were after turning to face him. 

“Don’t disrupt my practice again or I promise you’ll be dealing with a lot more than conflicting hours,” he whispered, his brows furrowing at the way your pupils wavered softly. You almost scoffed really, here you were face to face to Park Sunghoon after a long time.

You had every right and opportunity to confront him, yell at him even; asking why he left that night and why he never bothered to call or text after. The two of you after that party went back to how you were before— strangers.

Instead here you were merely inches away staring at the mole beside his nose you remember clearly. His minty breath fanned your lashes after the huffed out a sigh of disbelief. He could have ended up at any other high school, why did it have to be here? 

“I don’t think you’re someone who should be making promises Sunghoon.” You sneered in a whisper, his eyes widening slightly before dropping the silver whistle from his lips. Scoffing softly you called for the two to follow you and thankfully, they did. With your heels clicking against the court, you did your best to ignore the burning sensation spreading through your chest, nodding at the students bidding you goodbye with a smile. 

“I guess your talk with Coach didn’t go well the other day.”  You heard Jungwon whisper, a small chuckle to lighten the mood which you appreciated. “Let’s just say Coach Park and I know each other well.” opening the door to the class with a huff, you apologized to the other kids with a smile. 

“We can come every other day— if that’s okay,” Niki suggested, setting his bag on the floor taking a seat next to his teammate.

“Is he going to allow you to come every other day?” You asked with a raised brow,  seeing the both of them nod genuinely you heaved a sigh and smiled softly. And to your surprise, they did come every other day, you haven’t seen Sunghoon since then, and thankfully so. 

Making sure to ignore him in the faculty lounge during lunches— you even committed to coming early hours in the morning to print all your things just to avoid him in the storage units. It’s been exactly four days since your heated argument with him— Naeun saying it was fate when you mentioned it to her over the phone. 

“Fate my asshole.” you cursed, gripping your shoulder bag as you got off the terminal making your way to work. It was the day of the faculty meeting you’ve dreaded while preparing for— Ms.Go appointed you as the new head of the science department at the last meeting and not many people were too fond of that. Greeting your other colleagues your eyes trailed over those who were smiling while greeting you a hello. Some were your friends and seniors you looked up to while others were just those who respected you and your efforts for your job.

“Someone is sitting here—from my department.” Blinking at the women your gaze settled on her hand blocking the chair you were going to pull out to sit in. That was a lie, you knew it was. With good people also came the ones who weren’t that nice when the news dropped that you were appointed to the new position. Nodding an apology you couldn’t help but chew on your bottom noting the only other seat left unoccupied. 

Slowly setting your bag on the floor you pulled out all the paperwork needed for the meeting starting soon, ignoring the obvious stare on your right as you huffed out a sigh. Not able to ignore it any longer you gave the blonde a curt nod, brows furrowing as he didn’t acknowledge your greeting at all. 

“Oh? Y/N!” A familiar voice caused you to look up from your files, grinning at the familiar smile walking back to his seat with a cup of coffee. 

“Coach Lee!” You snickered softly, eyeing the extra cup of coffee he pushed towards you trying to ignore the looks from some of the older ladies down the table. Jeno was another Coach at the school for the soccer team who was also head of the math department. Being similar in age the two of you got along as assistants when you first started.

“Thank you..” giving him a soft whisper, you admired the swirls of creme floating on top of the expresso, a sigh escaping from you feeling the warmth spread between your fingers. After a couple of savoring sips, you paused as something—more like someone, was bothering you. You could only watch as Sunghoon glanced between you and the cup of coffee between your palms. His dark brows in a stern frown before scoffing and fixing his tie; it was the first time you had a good look at Sunghoon outside of his baggy sports attire after so long. 

His tall nose and pushed-up hair perfectly enhanced his face while the white dress shirt snugged nicely against his shoulders. He had grown into his features, that boyish charm now replaced with a cold stare and small frown. 

What was his problem? It wasn’t like you wanted to sit here in the first place, sneering slightly you took one last sip; purposefully glaring at him when your eye caught his gaze once again. 

“Are you ready for the presentation? I know it’s your first one since becoming the head of your department.” You heard Jeno ask you, nodding you smiled glancing at all the paperwork you were able to compress into a ten-fifteen-minute presentation.

“I’m not going to lie I had some trouble since there’s so much to talk about but— I think I did good.” You nodded, catching his smile as he pulled out his own set of notes. “Well, you ever need my help you can always ask me, you know my hours and my email.” With a thankful nod, your smile dropped hearing someone scoff beside you— a little too loudly you noted, glancing at the blonde with an irritated glint.

Before you could ask him what his problem was Ms. Go entered the room as everyone stood to greet her respectfully. As she caught your figure her smile widened in acknowledgment that you knew many people took note of, with everyone taking their seats you could feel your palms grow clammy as each department presented one by one. Jeno’s bright smile and convincing talk about changing the math curriculum passed quicker than you expected which meant one thing, it was your turn soon— next actually.

“Ms.Kim you’re up.”

Heaving out a shaky ‘yes’ your legs felt like jelly as you gathered all your notes, glancing at the other teachers in your department giving you an encouraging smile as you passed them walking to the front. The sound of your heels clicking against the floor seemed to be the only thing echoing in your thoughts as the gazes and judgmental stares seemed to have filled your vision making you visibly tense. It was true, there were many teachers here with way more years of experience and opinions but Ms.Go and the board choose you for a reason— that’s what you kept telling yourself. After a brief introduction, you noted Ms.Go’s intent gaze causing you to stutter slightly. 

“After working with the students and seeing the science program here, I have some changes that I believe would be beneficial.” Despite the scoffs heard from a few, you could feel the relief wash over you as Ms.Go nodded writing down some notes. “Looking at the curriculum a lot of the lesson plans are very outdated and don’t tend to the needs of the students now— I suggest we change our approach on what we expect from the kids. Things have changed in the new age which makes it only appropriate to change how we teach as well.” 

“And we trust the kids in your hands why?” Trying your best to hold back the frown leaking through your stiff smile you turned to Ms.Jung who was part of the literature and linguistics department, honesty you were expecting this type of question to come up somewhere in your presentation. However, when some of your other colleagues began dabbling in the conversation, you couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed at the amount of unwanted opinions directed towards you and the other teachers in your department. 

“Why would I take your word when I’ve been doing this for as long you’ve been alive.” Ms.Jung scoffed– her face clearly satisfied by the mess she caused making you look down in embarrassment. 

“What type of meeting is this if no one listens to what is being presented.” The sudden silence was caused by Sunghoon’s slightly irritated tone, his brows in a deep frown while tapping his pen against the desk in a steady beat. 

“Who do you think you’re talking to young man? I heard you’re new here and that’s how you treat your seniors—”

“What kind of seniors treats their younger colleagues that way? Ms.Kim is obviously really passionate and good at her job if she’s the science department leader… I think she knows better than anyone here what to do with the students,” he interjected, observing the way Ms.Jung looked taken aback by his sudden comment, a smug look casting over his face.

“It’s true since Ms.Kim became one of the main teachers— our science sector has seen tremendous amounts of improvement in overall scores and individual performances.” Ms.Go added with a nod, a small genuine smile making its way to your face with a humble nod. 

“Working with Ms.Kim I trust her enough to listen— I hope everyone can as well.” Surprised, you gave Jeno a grateful grin before you continued your presentation, your eyes catching Sunghoon’s deepen frown making you look away confused every once in a while. He was the one who helped you in the first place so why did he look so upset? 

However, you were unaware that his frown wasn’t directed towards you— but instead to Jeno who added a comment earlier he considered unnecessary, very unnecessary. 

After the meeting ended you searched for Sunghoon who already made his way out of the faculty room. You wanted to thank him for deescalating the situation earlier but he never gave you a second glance the moment you sat down again beside him. Making your way through the crowd, your eye searched for the blonde male making his way down the hall before pausing at your voice calling for him. 

“Hey.” You huffed fixing the bag on your shoulder, awkwardly glancing down to his hand gripping his own bag beside him. The cold air blowing from the conditioner made you shiver, you didn’t realize but your voice came out a lot softer than you expected. “I just wanted to say thank you— for earlier you know.” You could only watch as Sunghoon stared down at you, his head nodding in acknowledgment before turning away slowly. 

“Wait!” You didn’t know what prompted you to grab his blazer, maybe it was the way you haven’t heard his voice in so long, but all you wanted was to savor this moment with him a little longer. 

“I’ll buy you a coffee, my treat.” the offer quickly slipping from your lips.

“This wasn’t what I was thinking.” You heard him scoff beside you, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed as you mixed coffee and some milk from the faculty vending machine. With a grin you shrugged your shoulders, ripping some sugar packets before whisking with a spoon, a drink that you often had going through hell and back since working here. 

“Well Coach Lee and I would whip this up for each other ever since the both of us started as assistants, it’s my treat so be grateful at least.” You mumbled, throwing away all the trash while admiring the way the coffee swirled from the momentum of your mixing. His expression still cold as he pulled his phone from his pocket ignoring your statement.

You didn’t know why but this was making you slightly annoyed— hurt even. The two of you were colleagues now and you were doing your best to extend an olive branch despite what happened in the past. The least he could do was— 

Your eyes widen slightly at an unfamiliar scent mixed with the bitterness of the coffee, lashes fluttering as you felt his arm brush your chest faintly. Grabbing the cup of coffee from your grasp, you could only watch as Sunghoon took a sip from the drink, his furrowed brows relaxing softly seeing you look up to him in a daze. 

“I didn’t say I wasn’t going to drink it— jeez.” Taking another long sip, your lips lifted slightly seeing him finish the drink in one go. 

“The coffee isn’t going to run away from you Mr. Park slow down.” You huffed, picking up your bag before making your way to the door; a slight warmth spreading throughout your chest hearing him call out your name as you didn’t bother turning back. 

Since then none of the other teachers have bothered you in and out of the faculty meetings, you weren’t sure if it was because of Sunghoon or the fact they’ve accepted your new position— but it was one less thing to worry about. And to your surprise since your little barista session, the two of you kept it respectful and greeted each other whether it be passing in the halls or coincidentally seeing each other in the storage room; it was better than acting like each other’s existence didn’t matter because deep down— you at least knew it did.

“Right, so you need to move all the pH variables to this side and—” While helping some of the kids, you were interrupted by the sound of your door opening hastily. Immediately fixing your posture, your eyes widened at the sight of Sunghoon standing at the doorway with Niki and Jungwon. His gaze looked around the room almost in embarrassment with his hands shoved in his track pants. It was the first time he was in your class after your first encounter at the start of the month.

“I forgot it was your day with the kids— here.” You heard him say, pushing the two who were still dressed in their athletic clothing as he huffed a cough from your soft greeting towards the both of them. 

“Well they’re doing really well recently so I wouldn’t have minded the two of them staying with you.” Pushing your hands into your back pockets, you stood next to Sunghoon after giving Jungwon a small pat on the back with a sigh. With the first big game against the rival school coming soon— you understood the need for practice on the court. 

“If I didn’t know what both of you were talking about I’d assume it was about co-parenting,” Niki mumbled throwing his bag on the floor after you failed to greet him the same way you did Jungwon. Hearing a few snickers from the other students you quickly denied his statement, blinking rapidly as you moved away from an equally flustered Sunghoon who was mentioning extra laps around the track if Niki didn’t get to work.

After a few minutes of settling everyone in their seats, you noted Sunghoon still by the door, “Are you not going to return to practice?” You asked him, watching his eyes flicker back to you after gazing into space again.

“Oh— my assistant has it covered, the boys are just doing a practice game so I don’t really need to be there.” He nodded ruffling his track pants quietly. With a nod you motioned for him to have a seat at the lab tables if he wished to. 

“Well you’re welcome to stay if you want to, I’m just going to go over a few topics before assigning practice worksheets.” You told him with a grin. Sunghoon obviously took the opportunity to stay as for the past couple of days; he purposely changed his route around campus to find more opportunities to run into you. 

It’s just been—- so long. Hearing your voice again somehow pulled him back into this warm serenity he’s been missing for years. Your soft laugh that rang like wedding bells in his ear resurfaced drowned out thoughts and emotions that kept him up during the night and distracted him during the day. Things didn’t end the way he wished—nor did they end the way he thought they would. 

He should’ve never asked you to go to that damn party, the two of you were fine before that whole hell hole. Sunghoon trusted you— trusted you when it came to tutoring him to his full potential and trusted you to be honest when it came to if his hair looked weird in the morning. But he never thought he had to question his trust when it came to your feelings towards him. 

One minute he left to go find a friend who was light years braver than him when it came to words of love and confession— and the next he came back to you with another person; another man. An acquaintance, one who never really had good things to say about him. To see you leaning against him with your face cradled into his neck sharing shots together, made his stomach drop.

Dread? Sorrow? Regret? 

What else was there to say, he hadn’t asked to you be his girlfriend officially yet since he was so scared. 

Of rejection? No. Commitment? No, so what was it?

There he was, standing in the midst of the party seeing you slip away from his fingers in what felt like seconds, and he never looked back. 

Pride? Prejudice? He was sure the english novel that was apart of his assignment at the time persuaded the labels listed but things seemed better off this way. He never reached out and you didn’t either— apart of him hoped you did, but seeing you pass him on campus reassured him that maybe he was expecting too much; and he did. 

Years later despite what happened, he couldn’t help but feel a part of him yearn for that fulfillment again. To feel your hands cradling his face, your voice warming him in love and solace. But he concluded since those days being someone who feels too deeply— is just too exhausting.

“Woah—” Sunghoon mumbled out of his daze, your hand slamming slightly on the lab table startled him as the students left one by one as it’s been almost an hour since tutoring started. “Tutoring is over, you can leave now Coach Park.” holding back a grin, you couldn’t help but snicker at his flustered expression, something you haven’t seen in a while. Sunghoon stood hastily— embarrassed as his two athletes were glancing at him with slight snickers.

“Hey! Be ready for practice tomorrow, on time or I’m adding two extra sets to each workout.” Despite Niki and Jungwon’s teasing gaze towards him as they left— ones you didn’t notice, Sunghoon couldn’t help but shift in place seeing you struggle to put all the chairs on top of the tables for evening cleaning. 

Moving to help you, the sound of the clock ticking and chairs scratching against the tile floor filled the unfamiliar silence that surrounded you btoh— unfamiliar in a way where for the first time in a while for you and him; the silence didn’t have to hurt anymore.

“Are you heading home soon?” You heard him ask beside you, glancing out the window with the sun setting in the distance; you let out a tired sigh with a nod. 

“Okay I’ll go grab my things and walk you to the lot, meet me in front.” Before you could deny his request he was already out your door in a blink. A small snicker escaped your lips as you swiftly went to gather your things, you weren’t sure what was going through that little mind of his at the moment, but a part of you was glad he wasn’t acting like the two of you were complete strangers. 

“Is your car this way?” you heard him ask, the two of you meeting outside your hall before walking to the front of the school.

“Uh— I’m actually taking the bus, my car is still in the dealer because the breaks were acting up last month.” running a hand through your hair you thanked him softly for walking you this far until you felt him grab ahold of your forearm. 

“Then I’ll just take you home it’s probably on the way—”

“No! I’ll probably stop by to get dinner, it’s fine really you don’t have to.” You reassured him, doing your best to pull away from his grasp that only tightened the more you resisted. 

“Then let’s just catch up.” His suggestion makes you pause in shock, “I should probably eat dinner too.” How could you say no, he was looking at you with those hopeful eyes again, a glint of excitement in them when you unconsciously nodded to his offer.

“Auntie can we have two bowls please!” you called out— greeting the workers you saw often at the local noodle shop with a smile sitting down across Sunghoon, you thanked the waiter who was placing drinks infront of the both of you. 

“You seem to come here often, is it that good?” His light-hearted comment caused you to chuckle as you passed him the utensils from the box. 

“Once you eat what I ordered you won’t question my taste again.” Slightly glaring at him your cheeks immediately lifted as his laugh filled the booth. 

“That’s what you said about that one pizza place on campus— I’m sure you remember the fish bones underneath the cheese.” he pointed out, his foot tapping yours slightly as your lips puckered at the memory of Sunghoon pulling out a few fish bones from his slice of pizza. 

It was one of your weekend dates where you offered to find a place for dinner, despite it being one of the worst meals you’ve had during college it was a sweet memory the two of you cherished.

“And there wasn’t even fish on the menu.” with your expression in a scrunch, a smile broke onto your face as Sunghoon’s dimple was full display, recalling the utter horror the both of you shared realizing the crunches on your pizza weren’t dried onions. 

“Okay this does look good…”Gawking at the bowl of hot noodles in front of him, Sunghoon couldn’t help but dig in as you nodded watching him sip the broth; savoring the taste and warmth of each spoonful. 

You and Sunghoon did have many cherishing moments together. Figured as time went by you could push down these memories and hopefully, they would fade away the same way your happiness did with each passing month. Maybe the storm brewing in your heart could wash away any traces of him you had left in your mind, but of course, those prayers went unanswered.

You hoped it was one of those instances where you missed the memories more than the person, but deep down you knew that wasn’t true. Just a mental coping mechanism to convince yourself the closure you never got wasn’t the one thing you needed to move on with what happened. 

Why? Self-depreciation perhaps, emotions do that to a person. Maybe it clicked that you simply refused to let go of the memories— feelings you felt when things were good till they weren’t as it was a reminder that what you had was a good thing that should’ve never ended. 

But maybe it needed to.

“You were right this place is pretty good.” He huffed a chuckle, watching your eyes travel back to your bowl as you scoffed slightly.

“Niki and Jungwon don’t have to come every other day anymore, they should be fine with eligibility just send them when you can.” You nodded finishing the last of your meal, Sunghoon sat watching you quietly as you hummed with each bite. You kept your habits over the years, fingers pushing your hair behind your ears ever so often to the way your eyes were unable to meet his when you spoke or caught his gaze by accident, it was all the same. 

“And I know I’ve said this already but seriously thank you—for speaking up during the meeting,” pausing your eyes met his as the soft music within the restaurant feathered your words of appreciation. 

“They haven’t bothered me since which takes so much stress off of me.” With a small laugh, you expected him to follow, but your expression falls short when you noted his contemplating eyes gazing down with a frown. 

With the two of you here in the moment, despite the cordial decency you wanted to keep, Sunghoon couldn’t help but wish to know the truth. In the few months it took for the two of you to grow close, there was always the unknown if you would be more than friends. After being accustomed to your minuscule characteristics and habits, something never truly settled right with him about what happened. 

You just weren’t that type of person.

If things never worked out between the both of you it would’ve been because a few reasons, but none of them being what he saw that night. Your slight aggression towards him now after the obvious change of attitude from that night told him maybe things weren’t the way it seemed.

“Stop thanking me, just take it as a very delayed thank you for helping me graduate.” He huffed out, making sure to keep the cordial atmosphere you tried so hard to create during work despite the curiosity brewing inside him. 

“Speaking of graduation, did you miss the ceremony? I don’t remember seeing you when I went for friends who were in the same major.” he finally spit out—his question obviously making you freeze, you weren’t expecting him to bring up anything from back then. 

But Sunghoon was always full of surprises.

“Uh— yeah I, actually attended an overseas internship so that required me to leave a few days before the ceremony.” Picking the vegetables in your bowl, you could practically feel his gaze burning holes into you. Sunghoon knew you were lying, but he wasn’t going to let you know that. 

“Are you sure it didn’t have anything to deal with what happened?” your jaw tensed as you set down the pair of chopsticks bringing your eyes to meet his. 

“And what exactly are you referring to Sunghoon?” voice tinted with anger taking in the solemn expression that suddenly overtook his face. 

“Are you recalling to the fact I was in between what I wanted to do with my major so I took an extra semester to graduate or the fact the both of us just— went back to pretending like we were strangers?” You didn’t know what snapped inside you, past anger and resentment like skeletons in a closet finally acknowledged for the first time; in a long time. 

“Strangers?” Sunghoon scoffed, trailing his eyes away from you to the empty booth beside you two in exasperation. “You think what happened was something that happened for the fuck of it? Is that all it was to you?” his tone cold looking back at you. 

Confusion? Indignation? You couldn’t pinpoint what exactly blossomed when your eyes met, but something made his eyes turn cold as the realization settled that you weren’t the only one hurting. Eyes that once looked at you with warmth and tenderness now looked at you in vexation. 

“You made a promise you couldn’t keep then left taking no responsibility like the coward you were.” slamming the money you found to cover the bill on the table, you stood from your seat in a hurry. You did your best to make things seem as if the two of you shared nothing more than a few classes back in college; normal— so why the hell did he have to show up in your life again when you were starting to realize what’s coming will be better than what was gone.

“Wait Y/N let’s just talk—”

“There’s nothing to talk about Sunghoon! You made things painfully clear that night so please just… pretend like we don’t know each other.” And with a frown you left, this whole acting normal bit was bullshit to begin with. Sitting back down in the booth Sunghoon couldn’t help but curse as the sight of your back leaving the shop quickly seemed a little too familiar. 

Instead of clarity, he left with more questions to fill his thoughts at night. 

“And you’re saying he was basically hinted you were the reason things didn’t work out.” Naeun pointed out; brows raised in revelation as the both of you were seated in your living room, cans of beer lining the coffee table alongside bags of snacks she prepared after asking her to come over. After your small altercation with Sunghoon last night you really needed another opinion on the situation— and a drink. 

“Well, he didn’t say it but it felt like he was insinuating it— I don’t know! Either way, I saw what I saw and heard what I heard, and you did too.” whining slightly you took one last gulp from the nearly empty can before crushing it within your palm. You thought it was ridiculous how Sunghoon had the impudence to turn this around on you, but what would be the reason?  

“Y/N just ignore him, it’s not worth thinking about it this much… I say you distract yourself with that cute coworker you’ve been friends with.” she chuckled passing you another can which you accepted with a frown. 

“You mean Jeno?” 

“Well— you said he was your type and the two of you get along well, I say why not.” she shrugged, nodding to the beat of the music playing from your speaker you let out a sigh of… consideration. 

It was true, the both of you always got along well, both in the work setting and away. Maybe you were too busy with forwarding your career, but you never thought about getting involved romantically with anyone else, that’s what you told yourself. 

And there was truth to it, in the years since you’ve accomplished a lot in your line of work. Aspirations became reachable goals, and you were finally at a point in your career which you considered stable for your age and experience. You wouldn’t lie and say you didn’t try to to talk to other men in these few years, but they just never worked out, they weren’t—

“Sunghoon is going to be a part of the school festival committee with you?” Blinking out from your daze, you nodded bringing your knees to your chest. “You make it sound like it’s just the two of us.” Chuckling slightly you popped open another can of beer to refresh the lingering bitterness on your tongue.

“But yes, the Science and Literature department are paired up for the festival. I’ll just do my best to ignore him but I’ll be hard if he keeps being confrontational.”

“Are you sure you’ll be fine?” Nodding at her softly you gave her a hug thanking her for coming over to make you feel better. 

“Go— your clingy boyfriend is about to call me again asking if you’re coming home.” With a smile she flicked you off before bidding you goodbye quietly in the hall outside of your condo.

Naeun always found you and Sunghoon odd, how such contrasting individuals were able to grow so fond of one another, adapt to each other so quickly and willingly. You were kind at heart with a mind that was filled with never-ending dreams while he was someone who lived in the moment with a dubious reserved mind. You’d think two people of similar nature would get along much better, but once she met her own lover in her grad years, she understood that wasn’t the case. 

“Yeah can I get one americano with milk please.” Glancing up from her phone, Naeun had to glance again to make sure what she saw— more like who, wasn’t who she thought it was. Naeun was here to have a drink before meeting with her boyfriend for a date to end the weekend, and the last person she expected to see was the guy her best friend was reviling last night.

“Park Sunghoon what are you doing here?” being just as shocked as she was, Sunghoon gave her an amused nod before walking over with his receipt. “She wasn’t lying when she said you were back huh, what are you doing getting coffee this afternoon.” Acknowledging his backpack she let out a hum when he told her he was here to fish a few assignments he had for upcoming lesson plans. 

Shifting on his feet, Sunghoon offered for them to take a seat recognizing that glint in Naeun’s glare that he knew well from before— she had questions, and he could guess about who.

“Did you know Y/N worked there before coming?” Being thrown off by the sudden question, Sunghoon couldn’t help but choke a bit on his coffee. Americano with milk and sugar, a staple he grew to love after you made him a slightly different version a while back at work. 

“If I knew she was here I wouldn’t have taken the offer.” With a raised brow Naeun couldn’t help but scoff slightly. 

“Wow you really do have the uttermost audacity.” leaning back in her chair as Sunghoon stared at her in confusion. 

“Listen I know you’re friends so you’d defend her despite anything and I’m not demeaning you for that—”

“And what would I be defending her for? Giving you a chance when other people were making her feel like she shouldn’t have? You broke her heart Sunghoon, embarrassed her in front of people who didn’t even know her.” Rolling her eyes Naeun was growing frustrated looking at the way his upset expression turned confused.

“Don’t act stupid Sunghoon people saw and told Y/N, people even told me that you left with some girl that night and never came back.” Sitting in silence, Naeun couldn’t help but cross her arms at the sudden quietude overcoming the table, the silent noise in the background filling the empty ambiance between the two. 

“Are you finally remembering now? Because I had to show up and pull Y/N off some—”

“Wait. Who told you that, who told her that? I told Y/N I was going to look for a friend— but I never left… she knows that.” A shift in his voice was clearly acknowledged by Naeun as she sat up in her seat shaking her head.

“I don’t know it was some guy she kept saying was your friend when I found her; drunk and delirious might I add, but she trusted you.” Disappointment laced her tone while Sunghoon looked away, thoughts running miles she could see, his eyes darting from the busy sidewalk outside back to the blending of coffee beans at the counter.

“I went to go talk to a friend— who I ended up not being able to find, then I came back and she was with an acquaintance I knew…he was all over her and I don’t know.” rubbing the paper cover over his cup, Sunghoon felt the weight shifting off his shoulders being able to finally talk to someone about what happened. But when Naeun didn’t respond; he couldn’t help but look up only to be met with bundled-up tissue paper thrown at him.

“You think she would really do that to you Sunghoon? She liked you, way too much for that to happen.” Hissing through her teeth Naeun couldn’t help but let out a frustrated sigh, not at Sunghoon— but to you as well. What type of misunderstanding led to two different views of what happened? 

Running his fingers through his hair Sunghoon couldn’t help but grimace at her response. “Naeun that guy she was with was someone who showed interest in her before, he was a teammate of mine and I don’t know—”

“Well that would explain why he told people you left with someone else. I found her leaning against someone else for support because that asshole got her drunk and then left to god knows where.” With his eyes doubling in size, he couldn’t exactly explain the feeling traveling through him as he chugged the last of his coffee in one go. Foolishness? He knew better than to think you would do that, a mix of internal and external variables engrained him with a different memory than what happened.

But was it wrong for him to feel slightly hopeful? 

Cursing was the only thing Sunghoon could do sitting with this new information as Naeun finally understood the grasp of how big the misunderstanding was. 

“Is she at home now?” His question caused her gaze to snap toward him with a nod. “Then I should go talk to her about this—this mistake.” Stopping him quickly, Sunghoon knew it was imprudent to confront you at the moment, with what happened a few days ago he could conclude you probably wanted nothing else to do with him.

“Well you see, I might or might not have encouraged her to move on and forget about you and everything that happened.” Sheepishly scratching her cheek, she rolled her eyes as Sunghoon reassured her it was nothing to be sorry for.

“And I may or may not have told her to take a chance with the cute Coach from the math department.”

“Oh.” 

Naeun couldn’t help the guilt taking over her expression as Sunghoon sat down slowly with a slight frown, realization hitting him that she meant Jeno. 

So you were considering Jeno all this time. 

“Trust me when I say it was just a suggestion, she seemed conflicted about it first just… try to talk to her when you can, I promise she’ll listen.”

Well, she lied.

Every chance he took to talk to you never seemed to work out for him, from seeing you in the staff lounge to the storage units and printing stations— you were ignoring him, and he knew that. 

Somehow you always finished lunch when it was his turn to have a break or you managed to print all your paperwork magically when he showed up to the storage units after calculating your routes in between classes. It was hopeless. 

“Coach!” 

“Yeah sorry, um you two not going to tutoring today?” Tapping his fingers on the clipboard, Sunghoon could only watch as Jungwon shook his head with a grin knowing he caught his coach dazing off— again. 

“Nope! Ms.Kim said we’re all good with eligibility.” 

“He’s only asking because he wants to walk us to class again… right Coach Park?” Grabbing Niki by his jersey, Sunghoon couldn’t help but pull him into a headlock as the younger boy laughed at the teasing. He wasn’t sure when kids suddenly became aware of feelings; especially his, but if you asked the boys they would’ve said it was obvious from the way his eyes followed you when you were around. Or the way his head turns immediately at the mention of your name by staff or students.

But if you asked Niki thinks its obvious from the way he always volunteers to walk them to tutoring, your tutoring.

“Sunghoon!” Letting go of Niki he turned to see Jeno greeting him coming in from the outside field with the soccer team. Being the main coaches on campus it was expected the both of them would see each other often— unfortunately for him, as the idea that you were somehow considering on pursuing something with Jeno did not sit well with him. Sending him a nod, he couldn’t help but roll his eyes as the boys greeted their ‘favorite’ math teacher. 

“It’s not that hard to do math you know, I could help the two of you if you need it.” He sighed nonchalantly, crossing his arms as the two scoffed at him chugging their water bottles. “No offense Coach Park but why would we ask you if we have a math teacher who’s willing to tutor us?” Shaking his head Niki walked away leaving Sunghoon gawking, the whistle falling from between his lips as Jungwon shifted on his toes awkwardly. 

“Coach it’s true, plus Mr.Lee is super nice don’t worry! I always see him with Ms.Kim in the morning before class starts— yeah hold up!” Grinning at his teammates he gave Sunghoon one last knowing grin before running off to the others. 

“What do they know about being super nice?” He mumbled, blowing the whistle while motioning towards his assistant coach to go through with another round of cardio. 

It was funny really.

“Do you know today’s date?” Glancing between you working on a few notes and the other teachers talking about their plans for the upcoming school festival, he was grateful for agreeing to participate. Despite being one of the only people in his department to take charge of the role, Sunghoon truly was here to find a chance to talk to you— even if it meant asking for today’s date.

Seeing you weren’t paying much attention to him, he made sure to clear his throat a little louder this time. 

“What’s today’s date?” 

“It’s the twentieth…” Dropping his pen on the table, his jaw clenched hearing Jeno answer instead, his tone slightly annoyed at Sunghoon asking you the same question repreatedly.

“I wasn’t asking you.” He mumbled quietly, causing the latter to roll his eyes as he stated the date for Sunghoon to acknowledge again. 

He didn’t care. 

“What’s today’s date?” Sunghoon asked again, this time directly asking you with a tint of hope in his voice.

“O-oh it’s the twentieth.” You told him with a small smile, going back to answering questions some of the other teachers had about preparation time and supplies. With a successful smug, Sunghoon glanced over at Jeno who shook his head out of bewilderment. 

He found this to be an improvement, hell this was the first thing you’ve said to him since the dinner from over a week ago. “Do you need help with this?” You heard him ask, before you could answer Sunghoon was already grabbing the boxes you were carrying back to the paperwork room. 

“Yeah, you can just leave them here.” You pointed out, an awkward grin on your lips knowing the last time you spoke to him wasn’t the friendliest. 

“Hey I’m sorry about last time, I shouldn’t have blown up on you the way I did so I apologize—”

“No you shouldn’t apologize I sort of antagonized you so I’m the one who should be saying sorry.” He interjected, bringing his hands up in an attempt to stop you from interrupting him with a small huff. 

“Sunghoon I just don’t want us to be fighting anymore, it’s been so long we should both just get over it— I’m ready to forget about it if you are.” thinking it was the best solution you huffed softly seeing Sunghoon slowly nod shoving his hands in his pockets with a slight frown. 

“Is this not what you wanted?” Seeing him slowly bring his gaze up to yours, you released a relieved sigh as he nodded quietly. 

“Yeah I really do Y/N.” With a small smile, you nodded as the sound of other teachers down the hall interrupted the two of you. 

“Great because I’m gonna need a lot of help for the upcoming festival.” You pointed out, standing beside him letting the other staff walk into the room past you with a grin. 

“And I’ll be there to help you, always.” You heard him mumble beside you, heart fluttering lightly as your fingers gripped the fabric of your pants. 

You weren’t sure if your olive branch was going to do much in effort when it came to Sunghoon but— the two of you were now on good terms, really good terms to say. 

Maybe it was the effort of meeting up before or after school to brainstorm ideas for the festival but apart of you felt somewhat displeased. It was stupid really, you were upset when he was too caught up in the past with what happened, but now you were slightly displeased at the fact he was willing to forget everything just like that. 

Complicated— you knew. 

The sudden knock against the wood door made you flinch lightly from your desk as the sight of Sunghoon made you grin. After a few hours of grading papers, you didn’t notice the setting sun and quiet halls. Sunghoon has been coming either before or after school to discuss plans and set up ideas for the festival, when you learned he out of everyone signed up to run his department, a part of you grew in excitement. 

Seeing him at your door right now made you realize that, whether the halls and classes were empty in the bright early mornings or late in the setting sun, part of you felt a bit of self-sorrow. 

It reminded you of the way you were back in college, waiting for each other after classes with exciting smiles and playful hands. If things stayed the way they were, would the two of you have made it this far? Even if the exciting smiles turned into tired ones, and warm hugs replaced the playful ones— you could only leave it up to your imagination.

“Hey.” You whispered, his coming figure making you drop your pen softly. Eyes widening you scoffed as Sunghoon placed a cup of warm coffee on your desk. “I figured you needed a quick coffee break seeing how you’re still working this late.” He sighed, sitting ontop of one of the desk in front of you. 

“You came earlier?” His hum was enough to let you know he did as you were busy in your own world to be bother any further. “Isn’t this the coffee combo I made you before?” Your voice slightly amused as he nodded with a chuckle. 

“Yeah it’s been my go-to since you made me one— I guess you just know exactly what I like.” 

“So I think the class came to a consensus on their final ideas for the festival.” Changing the subject quickly, you failed to realize Sunghoon caught the sight of your eyes wavering, flustered.

“Oh yeah? What did they choose, our class came down to one as well.” Blinking quickly you did your best to remain calm as Sunghoon made his way around your desk beside you, his cologne tickling your nose while trying to ignore the obvious sound of your chair squeaking from scooting back slightly. 

“I-I think they all agreed to do a snack booth.” You replied, focusing your gaze across the room to the lab tables, an attempt to prevent your cheeks from heating up in embarrassment. “The kids chose a photobooth, I think that’s a good combination for our section.” He commented earning a nod from you. 

The feeling of something fluttering against your hair made you to flinch until the calluses of Sunghoon’s fingers caressing a few strands of hair came into view. 

“Stop overworking yourself.” he whispered. 

“I’m not Sunghoon I’m just behind on a few assignments is all.” You reasoned, leaning back into your seat as his fingers continued to play through your loose strands of hair. Being alone for so long, you often forget what it’s like to have someone asking you from time to time to slow down.

But to Sunghoon it was just one of your habits he knew you couldn’t get rid of, meticulous and compassionate to what you put your mind to, that was what he loved about you. But he knew it was important to put a limit on that habit. He knew you didn’t like people critiquing your work style as it was what you were used to— a small detail he noted back when you grew frustrated at the professor for telling you to take a break.

“Okay I believe you.” He sighed in a whisper, fingers still brushing the side of your face before continuing. 

“Just remember to rest from time to time… sleep can’t wait but graded assignments can.” he reasoned making you giggle slightly at how unserious he was with a nod. 

“The kids wanted me to let you know they’re expecting to see you at the game this Friday— especially Niki.” he brought up, leaning an arm against the head of your chair as you looked up at him confused. You haven’t been to any of the school games on campus, to be fair any games really since back in college when you went to support Sunghoon. 

“I think it’ll be important for them that their favorite teacher is there so think about it.” you heard him say, he knew you had a soft spot for the boys and they had one for you.  

And so here you were, after days of debating whether you were going to show up or not, you found yourself standing in your classroom overlooking the line of supporters outside the entrance to the gym. 

The moment you step foot onto the court, you noticed the home side of the bleachers were lined with hand-painted posters and school-colored streamers hanging from the ceiling of the gym, visible around the poles of the bleachers and floor of the gym. The loud cheering from the student section and low percussion from the band brought a smile to your face, it felt familiar yet so unfamiliar.

“Ms. Kim?” Smiling at the flushed boy you waved at him as he called over for the taller one with a grin. 

“You made it! I didn’t think you were coming,” Niki exclaimed with a towel wrapped around his neck. 

“Of course I came! You know I have some basketball knowledge up my sleeve.” you winked as two of them laughed feeling you pat them on the shoulder in encouragement. You recognized many students from class and coworkers with anticipating expressions, being one of the biggest games this season the energy was high, high in excitement and pressure. 

Trailing your eyes across the gym, it was a surprise to see so many people from the enemy team seated on the opposite side, school colors contrasting against each other as the tension grew on the court. Before you knew it, a grin ghosted on your face as your wondering gaze paused on Sunghoon; dressed in his suit with his clipboard in hand and a pen in the other. His brows were pulled into a frown behind his styled locks looking across the court to the other coach with a scowl, typical competitive Sunghoon.

You didn’t know what but something made you nervous, maybe it was because haven’t been in this type of environment in so long? Or maybe you were feeling the the stress from all the players on the sideline.

The moment his eyes met yours, it was like seeing him for the first time again at his game. 

Nostalgia, you were nervous because you knew coming here would’ve made you reminisce on all the good times you had with him those years ago. 

You were shown nostalgia was the hearts way of reminding you of what you once loved, what you once cherished. It wasn’t like someone told you, you learned to acknowledge it over the years. 

Through your favorite song that oftened played on the radio station you two enjoyed, Goodnight Radio. Photos and scents… nostalgia seemed to have always traveled to you, leaving a bittersweet feeling as sometimes happy memories make you sad–- despite the intended meaning of those words.

You gave him a shy smile, Sunghoon’s grin widening as he nodded in acknowledgement ignoring the looks of Niki and Jungwon glancing between you two. Finding your seat amongst the students, you were happy most of them greeted you with enthusiasm, partly shocked to see you here in the first place. 

“I’m surprised to see you here. Not really since I knew you’d come.” Sunghoon called out to you from the benches, yelling over the loud crowd in excitement as the band performance was coming to an end. You knew how important this was for Sunghoon, coming from a background where he was once in their position— this was a big game for him. 

Sure, you knew it would reflect on him as this was his first game as the coach, but you knew how important it was to him to win, for the team and for himself. 

“And who would I be not coming to support my students?” You yelled back, his smirk widening as he flung his clipboard towards the assistant coach who flinched, you figured he’d be used to that by now. His cheeky grin complimented his smiling eyes and it made you realize this was were Sunghoon belonged, on the court where he always called home.

As the game continued, you knew it was going to be an even game— with the team leading alongside a new coach, it was expected for a few mistake calls here and there. But being against a long time rival defending their wining title, everyone was tense throughout the first half. With the crowd growing weary you could see the stress seeping through Sunghoons stern expression. 

You couldn’t help but dismay your feelings aside noting Sunghoon motioning Niki in with a frown, he’s been missing all his shots and making many out of play moves costing the team points and fouls. Flopping on the bench, the boy was told to calm down by Sunghoon who went back to strategizing with the team with a tight frown on his face. 

With his head hung low and chest heaving— you stood up making your way down to the benches, away from the rest of the team where Niki was sitting.

“Niki.” Whispering to him, you heart melted seeing his upset expression under the towel draped around his head. He reminded you a lot of your brother back then, passionate and driven by the game but also very emotional in the heat of the moment; that could lead to some bumps in the road— you knew better than anyone growing up with it. 

“Ms. Kim I keep messing it up for the team.” You heard him groan, his fingers tightly intertwined trying to blur out the loud crowd from all around. 

“It’s not just your fault Niki, like you said it’s a team… you win as a team you lose as a team—and you mess up as a team.” Nodding slowly you grinned seeing him losen the tight grip on his fingers.  

“You know Sunghoon only benched you because you were getting upset, not because you’re bad. The last thing he wants is for you to put the blame all on yourself….but he shouldn’t have made that three pointer call if you want to point fingers.” You chuckled, grateful to see his smile again despite the sweat lining his hair. You noted the way his eyes flickered back to the group of players— huddled together as Sunghoon was desperately trying to keep his team together. 

____________

“You guys we can still win the game we just need to calm down and rethink our strats.” Sunghoon couldn’t help but feel anxious at the sight of the scoreboard before them, they were ten points down and one of his best players is sitting out for the rest of the quarter for his own sake. He knew how they felt, the pressure to perform well and to win against one of the biggest rivals this year, he saw himself in many of the players on his team.

But instead of forcing them to go through the burden and anger he grew familiar with, he knew it was the right thing to do seeing how upset Niki was getting both on and off the court. 

“Coach we need Niki— he’s usually the one leading all the plays down the court, it’s gonna be hard to get past their defense.” Jungwon breathlessly stated. 

“ I know but I’m not gonna force him to play when he’s spiraling, we’re just gonna have to play around not having him in the formation.” From his peripheral, his eyes caught your figure rushing back into the crowd— sitting amongst the other students and supporters with a heartfelt expression.

“Coach Park!” 

Seeing Niki rush over, he was surprised to see a smile plastered across his flushed face. 

“I can play Coach, I’m good.” despite his reassurance Sunghoon was still skeptical noting he wasn’t this spirited a few minutes ago. “Niki I’m not sure if—”

“Coach I didn’t come to play today just to lose.” he made sure to emphasize, and it all clicked for him— a familiar phrase that rang in his ear like bells. 

‘I didn’t come just to see you lose.’ 

It was a joke you’ve always said to him before his games to shake the nerves off his shoulders, even through the wins and losses he knew you were there to support him regardless of the results, and a part of him missed that. It was just something that ticked his heart a bit from the memories.

Bringing his gaze to yours, despite the rather obvious intent to look away— you knew Sunghoon understood your intent; he needed to give Niki the reassurance you gave him.

“Okay, I believe in you but you gotta believe in yourself kid—all of you do.” grinning at the team, Sunghoon felt relieved to see everyone jump in excitement despite the fatigue that overtook their faces not long before this. With less than a quarter left, he knew this was the last push both physically and mentally for the boys— with the whistle blowing the sound of the crowd grew both in excitement once again.

Niki was in a whole different state of mind compared to before the timeout, with both him and Jungwon finally on the same page; gaining points back was easy. However, with the other team being the best of the best, the score was still close— too close. With the clock ticking down and the difference being two points, either the team had to score a three-pointer or prevent the rival team from tieing.

“Niki go, run!” you suddenly exclaimed, ignoring the looks from those around as you could see the thoughts running through his mind faster than his feet were. With his fingers gripping the ball, you could feel your own gripping your pants. This was it. The adrenaline, the rush, the quick silence as everyone held their breath down to the last millisecond.

This was what you missed. 

A wide smile made its way to your face, seeing Niki and Jungwon jumping in both happiness and exhaustion as the students ran to the court to celebrate with them— you could only smile. 

They won, despite being the underdogs; they won fair and square. Nodding in satisfaction, you gave both of them a proud thumbs up as the both of them kept waving towards you in the crowd. If you were a little younger you would’ve found yourself down there with them.

But despite the happy occasion, it felt bittersweet. You were happy, so happy for the team but you didn’t want the neglected feelings you’ve tried so hard to push away overtake the joyousness you should be feeling. 

What should you be feeling? 

What were you feeling?

“Y/N!” Turning towards a familiar voice, your heart shunk realizing why the dread you’ve been feeling for the past couple weeks have been eating you up inside. 

“We did it! They did it.” Sunghoon grinned down towards you in joy. 

You noticed it that one evening— you could still see the Sunghoon you met in college, filled with drive and passion both in basketball and life. He wanted to do a lot of things, visit a lot of places, and accomplish a lot of things. You’ve never admitted it but, it tore you up inside wondering if he ever wanted you to be a part of that.

Has he been well since then?

Did he still think of you the way you thought of him?

Were over-easy eggs with a pinch of salt and garlic still his favorite?

What you and he had, is it gone— forever? You never admitted it, but he always lingered in the back of your mind without effort.

“What’s wrong?” You heard him ask you, shaking your head you held back a small cry trying to pass it off as being emotional for the boys. Your response was hushed out by the loud crowd while your eyes trailed to focus on something else other than Sunghoon who recongized that small glint in your gaze.

“Well I think we can thank you for talking some sense into Niki.” he blurted out, making you shake your head in defiance still admiring the confetti falling from above with a small smile. Sunghoon couldn’t help but admire the way your glossy eyes shimmered from the silver confetti falling above, they looked like the stars he used name in his head while stargazing with you on the campus lawn. 

“I owe you one— after this actually if that’s okay.” 

What you didn’t expect was Sunghoon secretly picking you up after the game behind the school. With kids celebrating in the main parking lot and on the field, the last thing you wanted was for a rumor to start about the science teacher and coach leaving with each other after the game. 

“Sorry did you wait long?” he whispered unlocking the door for you, shaking your head with a chuckle you slid in leaving your things in the backseat swiftly. 

“Are you picking a place to eat this time?” you grinned softly, his laugh echoing lightly throughout the car as he quickly pulled out of the parking lot passing by familiar faces you’ve seen in the halls. 

“Well it wouldn’t be much of a treat if you did all the work— did anyone see you?” He asked, eyeing you from his peripheral with a finger tapping the wheel. 

“No only a few teachers left through the back but other than that just Jeno.” you hummed. 

“Jeno?” he whispered, grip tightening on the wheel slightly making you bite back a grin unconsciously. “Mhm, he even asked if I needed any help going to where I needed to go.” you sighed nonchalantly, his occasional glances turning into full head turns— waiting for you to continue. 

“Did you tell him you were taking the bus?” His perplexed tone makes you giggle slightly as you continue to admire the colorful lights blending outside of the window. Sunghoon could feel himself breaking out in a cold sweat waiting for your response, with your head turned the other way he wasn’t sure what to think.

“Nope I told him I was going with you,” A smile broke across his face after realization hit him that you had no problem telling Jeno who you were with, and it was with him— silly he figured but it made his ego swell and cheeks heat. 

“Hey eyes on the road sir.” You playfully reminded him, pushing a finger into his dimple softly causing him to clear his throat in embarrassment —coughing nonchalantly to hide his giddiness.

After pulling into the destination, Sunghoon held a hand out to grab as you confusingly looked at him and then the empty parking lot you were standing in. 

“I was planning on taking you to a nice restaurant worth half of my paycheck but I figured you would’ve liked this a lot better.” he grinned cheekily, closing the trunk with a bag of take-out in one hand and alcohol in the other. Leading you up the stairs, your eyes widened slightly taking in the bright city skyline and busy traffic. 

“It’s not the prettiest but I think it’s still pretty.” He sighed, straightening a small towel he took from the locker room on one of the cemented platforms for you to sit on. 

“No Sunghoon it’s beautiful.” You whispered in a hush, leaning against the cemented edge with your elbows admiring the breeze from this high up, “Seriously.” you weren’t sure why but the view brought a content smile to your lips, after working nonstop for quite a while— you sometimes forget you step back and enjoy the moment. You learned to find the small and ordinary things beautiful, the lining car lights twinkling in the distance to the cicadas singing in the breeze.

Things will continue on in the world whether you comply to that idea or not, and it’s okay.

After perfecting his set up Sunghoon was glad you weren’t too picky about the setting, but you never were. Seeing you stare out to the view in fascination was a reason why he loved experiencing new things with you, not only was he getting to experience something new— but he was able to see you do as well. He loved it. 

“Yeah— it really is beautiful.” He repeated, your head turning at his agreeance only to see his gaze on you. The tip of his nose slightly red from the cold while his eyes were filled with solace as he looked down at you. 

Your heart was doing that thing again…. 

“Um, so did you decide on takeout? How’d you find the place?” You managed to let out, walking towards the small setup Sunghoon laid out as he rushed over to make sure the towel was still flat for you to sit on. “Y-yeah the boys said it was pretty good so I thought maybe we should try it.” He explained, motioning towards the pack of beer that you excitedly opened up. 

“The boys did?” kids were trendy these days and that could mean one of two things— it was gonna be really good, or just really hyped up. Surprisingly it was pretty good, Sunghoon could be a picky eater from what you remember but he was fully enjoying himself—that could also be from the alcohol. 

By now you were a few shots in, a couple of beer cans opened and a whole box of fried chicken finished. With the cold breeze brushing against your hot cheeks you couldn’t help but glance at Sunghoon from time to time secretly. His styled hair was now messed up slightly from the wind and his cheeks were slightly flushed from the alcohol. 

“Sunghoon.” You softly called out, eyes slightly hazed from the can of beer you chugged down wondering if this was a good idea to talk unsober. His low hum sent shivers down your spine as you stared off in the distance towards the twinkling city lights. 

Sunghoon was buzzed, he knew he needed to sober up soon to take you home but the thought of you next to him somehow made him anxious— leading to one too many shots. 

Maybe it was the way you were picking at the empty can between your fingers, or the blank stare off in the distance; he couldn’t tell what you were thinking and it made him wonder. Your somehow sad expression when he found you after the game made him realize one thing, with this time apart he didn’t know how you’ve been at all. 

Were you and your mom still on bad terms? You’ve confided to him one night after he found you crying to yourself when you thought he was asleep, despite how well and proud you presented yourself at school; you never felt good enough which broke his heart. You were sensitive, he knew that— a person who’d rather show off only your happy and good sides despite how polar opposite you might’ve felt.

“Do you regret it?” your small voice broke his thoughts, Sunghoon wasn’t sure if he heard right, the feeling of his heart suddenly dropping along with your solemn expression showed him you were speaking as yourself right now, not as the respective Ms.Kim, not YN from college but you right now in the moment. 

“Regret what?”

With a shaky sigh, you shook your head trying to mask the slight tremor in your voice. 

“I-I don’t know, everything?” You managed to let out, despite everything that happened, you had more good memories to grieve over than the bad—hardly any. Sunghoon was quiet for a while, and it made the thoughts in your mind run for miles wondering why. 

Maybe he did regret it. 

With your mouth gaping slightly the words ‘forget it-–it’s a stupid question’ were at the tip of your tongue. But a part of you knew it wasn’t stupid, it was just closure. 

“You know sometimes I think about it.” He sighed, his voice low from the unexpected question. 

“Just because we didn’t work out doesn’t mean you weren’t one of the best things that happened to me Y/N.” you unknowingly let out a shaky sigh, of relief? Content? You were happy to confirm what Sunghoon felt wasn’t a silly fling you tried to convince yourself he saw you as.

Acceptance? With the words ‘we didn’t work out’ solidifying your long-time question of what happened, you were somehow at the same time struggling to accept that this was how things happened. 

We just didn’t work out, despite for how bad you wanted things to— they didn’t.

“Me too—” it was the alcohol. Had to be the alcohol from the way your eyes found his, looking at you with a besotted gaze as warm as the feeling pitting inside. 

“You were mine too.” 

Unable to process what happened next, all you could feel was Sunghoon’s nose brushing against yours while your eyes fluttered on their own. 

His fingertips brushing through your hair and against your jaw had you gasping slightly— had to be the alcohol. The feeling of warmth radiating off his lips had your heart ticking to death, lips so soft you could remember your first shared kiss with Sunghoon under your covers that one night.

His blazer that was on your lap was slipping as the feeling of his chest brushing against yours made you melt inside— it most definitely the alcohol. 

“I regret it.” Your eyes immediately widened, freezing in place not understanding the meaning behind the sudden change in his answer. 

“Fuck I regret it so much Y/N.” he pulled away, running a hand through his locks as your hand slowly falls down on your lap, heart beating loudly from the mix of liquor and your emotions. 

“But you just said you didn’t…” you couldn’t help but notice your voice coming out softly from shock and fear— fear of your worst nightmare coming true. You didn’t realize but a small drop of sadness touched the palm of your hand, a tear. Sunghoon immediately cupped your cheeks whipping them away despite you telling him to let go. 

“No Y/N I meant I regret not reaching out to you after that night at the stupid party— I fucked up.” Your brows furrowed slightly not understanding his confession. 

“I accidentally ran into Naeun a while ago and she told me, everything.” he emphasized, bringing the blazer that was no longer near you back to your lap in a hurry. 

“I was stupid, I was lost, and I ruined everything.” he softly told you, his eyes downcasted towards your hands with remnants of tears that you collected in the past minutes. 

“Did you know her?” his questioning gaze led you to clarify the question further. 

“Did you know the girl you left with that night?” You whispered, playing with your fingers while the wind blew through your hair across your tear-stained skin.  

“What? No Y/N there was no girl… there was never another girl—ever.” He emphasized, turning to you quickly brushing your cheek with his thumb. “I just went outside to see if my friend left and went around the block a few times before talking to Jay…” he explained, hoping you remembered his college friends from that night that could vouch for him. 

Glancing towards Sunghoon your brows furrowed slightly trying to connect the dots, with his soft gaze taking in your reaction you immediately turned to face him as well. 

“And when I came back you were together with Kyungmin—” he cursed slightly his eyes looking into the distance with his brows pulled together. The name was unfamiliar, but you exactly who he was talking about.

“Sunghoon no— I” you denied, shaking your head expressing that you certainly weren’t together with Kyungmin. 

“I know.” he muffled, taking your hand in his before pulling to sit close, the heat from his arm radiating off onto you slightly making it painfully obvious about how close he was to you. Chewing the inside of your cheek, the urge to tell him that you missed him fell at the tip of your tongue—much to your surprise he beat you to it. Bringing your enclasped hands together, a small peck was placed in the center of your dorsal palm, your skin burning with butterflies as a small smile made it’s way to your lips. 

“I missed you so much.” He whispered, his eyes meeting yours filled with solace and sorrow— the moonlight perfectly highlighting the tip of his nose and the darkness of his pupils. 

“I missed you too Hoon.” your small voice making him sigh into your palm almost in content. 

“Missed you too much.” You added seeing his gaze travel across your face made your throat tighten— breathing hitched as the pink of his cheeks and the deep color of his lips became more visible with each passing second.

No matter what happened you realized after meeting Sunghoon again after all these years— you will always find your way back to eachother, back to the person who was meant to have your heart. That’s just how things worked for the both of you.

Two souls such as yourself don’t find eachother by accident or coincidence. 

You could say goodbye to everyone else but not Sunghoon, never Sunghoon. Not when his brown eyes were gazing like you owned his world. His lips pecking your cheek softly as you felt your heart burst in love and jolity.                           

And that feeling of love and jolity continued with each moment of intimacy shared between you two after that night. The secret kisses under the blanket at your condo as he stays the night after only wanting to drop you off after work— to the secret kisses inbetween classes behind the printer in the faculty room and underneath your lab tables.

His slender pinky that would hook onto yours underneath the table during faculty meeting were your favorite, it was quit obvious by the smile ghosting on your lips absentmindedly while Sunghoon swung your intertwined pinkies across his lap. With the festival coming up soon, alot of these sweet moments were limited as the both of you not only had the ending semester work to complete but also responsibilities with the school festival.

But Sunghoon never failed to call you after work, whether you were preparing dinner or getting ready for bed; the chime of your ringtone always brought a smile to your tired expression. 

“Ms.Kim where do you want us to place these chairs?” Twirling the pen between your fingers you motioned for your students to carry the stack of chairs towards the otherside of the court yard. With the festival happening later tonight there were still plenty of tasked to be done and last minute details to perfect before you could call it a day. When hours became one, you were basically running around campus like a crazed chicken to find the missing signs that were needed to complete your photobooth stand.

“Shoot where the hell did I place the signs.” you mumbled, swiftly going to your class that was filled with supplies and crafts done by the students. It was a festive time for the students, exams were over and the holidays were coming up; with the new year came new things to look forward to and the festival was the cherry on top.

“Ow!” You cursed, holding onto your knee that accidentally bumped one of the desk as you rushed to the missing signs that you were looking for. 

“Y/N?” Your eyes instantly darted towards the door seeing an equally disheveled Sunghoon with a box of snacks by his foot, you figured he came up to the class to get supplies as well. 

“Hoon!” you exclaimed softly, getting up from your position noting that despite looking disheveled— Sunghoon was still so handsome. 

“That’s gonna leave a bruise.” he snickered, eyeing the size of your christmas sweater the two of you decided to secretly match with. The memory alone made him smile, the one you initially wanted was out of stock and the next option was two times the size of what you would usually buy. But you looked adorable; slightly flushed from running around, hair was pushed behind the backs of your ears by the headband you were wearing.

“My little reindeer is so cute.” he cheesed, poking your antlers as you looked up to him with a sparkling glimmer in your eyes. Feeling him pull you into his embrace, your arms immediately circled around his wasit, face buried into the wool of his santa sweater as you felt him kiss the top of your crown, whispering a small I missed you inbetween kisses that eventually landed around your face. 

“Everyone did a pretty good job setting up for the festival.” You hummed, looking outside of the window at the twinkling colored lights from down below and the line of people waiting for the festival to begin. 

“Well if it wasn’t for you always on our asses–”

“Sunghoon!” You exclaimed softly, pushing him away as he apologized with a chuckle—reaching to pull you back into his embrace. With your arms leaning against the window, you couldn’t help but smile in silence, silence that was no more filled with pain or acted like a void, it was silence of appreciation. 

“This is kind of familiar don’t you think?” you heard him say beside you, his elbow slightly touching yours against the window as the two of you looked off into the courtyard, a small giggle leaving your lips as he made fun of Jeno for tripping over a few boxes from behind.

Looking up you realized what he meant from his comment as your smile softened at the warm twinkling bulb lights you decorated along the upper rim of your windows.

“Yeah instead this time Jake won’t interrupt us right?” You teased feeling him wrap an arm around your frame trapping you against the window. Leaning down he hummed a thought, his warm breath tickling the apples of your cheeks— the flashes of his friend interrupting his first kiss with you making him chuckle from the thought alone.

“I don’t know wanna try?” Slapping his chest lightly, you couldn’t help but look away shyly, bitting the bottom of your lip at how flustered he was able to make you. Using his free hand, Sunghoon brought your face to look at his again, his fingers tracing the lines of your features while his eyes took in every inch of your face. The two of you gazed at each other again in silence, not saying anything; but it was the kind of nothing that meant and told you all you needed to know once again. 

Sunghoon had a place in your heart you knew was always going to be there. 

“Ms.Kim WOAH–”

Niki.

Pushing Sunghoon away with all your might, you couldn’t help but apologize softly at his taken aback expression as his stumbled back against the lab tables. Clearing his throat as Jungwon and Niki both came rushing in with other students who seemed to have caught the two of you by the window. 

“Y-you were looking for these right? I found them lets go!” grabbing the posters you couldn’t help but curse as the students began talking over you, understanding the situation a little more as Sunghoon smuggly grinned not denying any of the accusations, rubbing the nape of his neck as he took in your flustered expression. 

“Okay okay, I hope everyone here can keep a secret right?” he announced gaining everyone’s attention. Small sounds of disbelief and annoyance echoed throughout the quiet classroom, some of them scoffing at the idea of keep this big of a secret while others were still in shock about their two favorite teachers caught almost kissing.

“If you do I’ll sneak everyone here a breakfast sandwhich for the first day of school after winter break.” he sighed in defeat, grinning in relief as everyone collectively cheered and agreed as one. You quickly told everyone to go down towards the courtyard, as the lines of people began to fill going towards different booths and activities.

“And make sure no one finds out! Actually you can tell Coach Lee I don’t really care.” Sunghoon stated, earning a few chuckles from the students and a glare from you. Shoving the posters towards Jungwon, his dimple came into view as his fond eyes traveled between the you and Sunghoon; a small ‘your secret is safe with me’ making you grin halfheartedly. 

While the room grew quiet, you couldn’t help but snicker slightly as Niki came running back, passing Sunghoon a poster you assumed was a draft or one that was messed up before it was finished. The two of you stood there looking at each other knowing you were caught red handed by your students, gosh this was bad if the board found out. You couldn’t help but notice his grin brightening as you began to freak out at the fact you and Sunghoon almost made out in front of your own kids. 

You were getting fired. Demoted at best, but most definitely fired. This would ruin all the plains you had lining up for your career— THIS was gonna ruin your reputation and—

“Y/N.” pausing mid rant you looked at him and couldn’t help the warmth that spread throughout your chest as your shoulders relaxed almost immediately. 

Of course Niki gave him that one specifically. The cutout poster that had a mistletoe drawn just above his head, small hearts and snowflakes lining the borders with the words ‘I like you, from my head to my mistletoe’ written on the bottom. Your laugh echoing through the class as Sunghoon quickly embraced you placing kisses around your face. 

In moments like this is when you realized you were grateful for Sunghoon in more ways than one. When you picture yourself being happy, there are many things that come to mind. Traveling the world to places that have always been on your bucketlist, learning how to cook michelin star dishes that you’ve had at restaurants, you wanted to raise a puppy on your own and even thought about going back to school to get your doctoral degree in science. 

Those were all things you want to do, things you wanted to do with Sunghoon. You weren’t going to make him your sole reason of happiness that’s a little silly, but you smiled more when you were with him, and you realized he understood you more than anyone else has. He made your ordinary moments feel magical and was the kind of person who pushes you to be better, he was your best friend.

In between kisses and embraces Sunghoon never failed to let you know he loved you both in tone and in silence, and he never failed to show you a different side of living that was of course filled with love.

Because that was just who Sunghoon was, someone filled — With Love.

“how to make max verstappen no glue no activator”

— toto wolff probably