Desperate | P.SH

the hot dad next door (m) | park sunghoon.

﹙ 🎬 ﹚ ぃ ────𝗶𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗵𝗼𝘁 𝗱𝗮𝗱 𝗻𝗲𝘅𝘁 𝗱𝗼𝗼𝗿 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂?

preview. the ever quintessential first time dad moves in next door with his five year old and finds it impossible not to fall for you, the pretty girl who gives his daughter cookies and him; the doll eyes. obsessed with your entire being, unable to keep his hands off you, park sunghoon questions if he's just crazy or he's crazy over you.

or where, he notices the way you look at his hands a little too long for it to be innocent.

meet the cast. single dad!park sunghoon with his pretty neighbour fem!reader.

genre. DILFF AUU !!, SMUT MDNI, fluff, neighbours to lovers, sunghoon is quite literally yes insanely crazed over you and for the sake of god can't keep his dick soft, domestic a little bit i guess, i want to make her my wife trope EEEKKK, slight age gap (hoon in late twenties and reader in early twenties) more to be added.

word count. est around 10k (current wc, 2k)

warnings. inaccuracies about parenting cause i aint a parent, i got no idea. more will be mentioned in the actual post.

releasing. very soon!!

park sunghoon was hot, he was a walking greek god. was single and wore these fitted suits that had you weak in the knees. if that wasn't hot enough, park sunghoon also had the cutest baby girl you had ever come across and it just made him hotter than he could ever have been.

"hey, um .. is ji—" sunghoon stands at the threshold of your open apartment door, one hand holding his creased blazer and the other rubbing at the back of his neck. embarrassed and shy at having to show up at yours looking like a mess after work because his daughter ran off while he was busy on a call and taking out her school bag from the backseat. and because everytime his daughter ran off, it was to the pretty girl next door who gives away sweet cookies all the time.

"is jia here? yeah she's in the kitchen," you answer, smiling soft and knowingly at the worried guy who barely looked like a dad. he worked in a corporate editorial, out before eight in the morning just as you prepared ingredients for your bakery. taking his daughter along to school, her excited voice resonating through the halls talking about how they were going to play with clay in class. around seven in the evening you'd hear her again, this time alone as she would skip over to your door because dada was too slow.

on weekends it'd be impossible to ignore the ruckus they made playing around, sometimes inviting you over for lunch because sunghoon apparently made too much and jia wanted to share her dada's delicious food. on some occasional weekends when he'd be called in to work for a few hours, jia would promise him to stay home and behave only to call you through the landline the moment he'd step out the door. and you would text sunghoon to come over to yours after work, his daughter munching on the new flavored cupcakes you made, unbothered about her dad and his scoldings.

"come on in, i made some almond lime tart, you could give me some feedbacks along with jia. you know she always says it's good and i can never know if it's actually good," sunghoon can't help but chuckle at that, slipping off his shoes by the front and walking inside. his eyes following your figure with a fond look as you tend to his daughter delicately, and might he admit— even more so than him.

you're sweet, you know how to handle kids; cue that one time jia was crying her eyes out after school and he had no idea what to do to comfort her, knocking at your door frantically and having his mind blown at how quickly you figured things out and calmed her down.

you're sweet, you know how to handle kids, you treat them both so well, always ready to help him out with jia, giving them sweet treats every other day and most of all— you're fucking pretty. way too pretty for him to handle.

taglist ( open. ) @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @shawnyle @enhastolemyheart @belowbun @aaa-sia @niniissus @tobiosbbyghorl @imjakes-wifeofc1 @youresolivlie @eun-cherry @kimsunoops @aiden2001 @brownsugarbaybee @pockettwinzz @bangtancultsposts @diorikis @heelvsted @crimnalseung

I LOVED YOU FIRST PT3 | FC43

part one | part two |

an: this is the most requested part three. i fell asleep so many times writing this but i’m waiting for tate’s new song so it gave me something to do. not proof read.

wc: 8.3k

It was nearly dawn when Franco turned off the engine, but the silence felt hollow. He sat motionless in the cockpit of his car, his hands still gripping the wheel even though he had finished his lap over an hour ago. The empty track stretched before him, a stark grey line splitting the waking sky, and for a fleeting moment, he considered taking off down it one more time, just for the noise.

That had been the only reason he'd even bothered coming out this morning. Noise. Anything loud enough to cut through the thick numbness that had settled over his life the last two years. Even racing—his childhood dream, his only real thrill—felt distant, just another repetition in an endless loop of things he used to care about.

He let go of the wheel, his fingers stiff and aching, and slumped back into his seat. The inside of the car still smelled new, though he’d driven this car all season. But everything in his life felt new in the wrong way, like he was breaking in someone else's skin.

Franco closed his eyes, but there was no escape there either. As much as he tried to avoid it, the image still came easily: two years ago, his wedding day. The hushed gasp of the guests as he had walked back down the aisle alone, the weight of his father-in-law’s hand on his shoulder. And her eyes—his childhood best friend, his first love, his confession to her still raw in his throat. He'd bared his heart, thought he was finally doing the right thing, only to watch her turn him down, her gaze steady and unwavering.

It was strange how clearly he could remember it. She had moved on. He was too late.

And yet here he was, two years later, sitting in the emptiness his choices had carved out. His marriage was the result of the aftermath—inevitable, unstoppable, once her father had coerced him into making it right. He’d been a fool to think he could live with it, that he could somehow build a life out of that hollowed-out choice. But every day he woke up, and every day it was the same. A stranger beside him, a public charade. He was trapped in a marriage more binding than he had ever imagined, one that had closed off any other life he might have had.

A tap on the side of the car startled him out of his thoughts. His agent, Eddie, looked at him expectantly, his face creased with concern. Franco forced himself to meet his gaze, pulling on a blank expression he’d perfected over the last two years.

"You good, man?" Eddie's voice sounded so distant for some reason.

Franco forced a nod. “Just getting in some practice.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. "You finished over an hour ago."

Franco shrugged, not offering any other excuse. What could he say? That he no longer felt the rush, that even the raw thrill of racing at 200 miles per hour left him feeling nothing? It would be admitting too much. He wasn’t sure he could handle what Eddie would say if he knew.

As he finally climbed out of the car, his gaze drifted toward the track, that endless stretch of asphalt, and for just a second, he felt a flicker of what it used to mean to him. Freedom, purpose, maybe even love. But that had been before her—before he had thrown it all away, thinking he could have her back. And now all he was left with was this: the shadow of a life he hadn’t chosen, the memory of a love that had been real once, and a future he couldn’t bring himself to face.

Franco shook his head, stuffing the thought away. "Let’s just get through today" he muttered to himself, the words a quiet vow.

Tomorrow, he’d put on the act again.

The house was silent when Franco walked in. He closed the door softly, slipping off his shoes out of habit rather than any real desire to keep the peace. She was there, sitting in the dimly lit living room, curled on one end of the couch with her legs tucked under her. A book lay open on her lap, though her eyes weren’t moving over the words.

They hadn’t spoken much in days, maybe even weeks, except for the occasional small-talk exchange over morning coffee or at some public event. When they were alone, it was as if they were two strangers who’d agreed on a routine. She looked up as he walked in, and he wondered if she was waiting for him to speak first.

But he didn’t. He simply nodded, moving past her as if it were just another evening in this quiet, loveless house. He heard her shift, a quick intake of breath, and he paused, feeling her eyes on his back.

“I cheated,” she said, her voice flat, almost as if it were a statement she’d practised a thousand times, something she needed to let out before it grew stale.

Franco slowly turned to face her, letting the words settle, though he didn’t feel anything sharp or raw. Instead, there was just the dull, familiar weight of something like resignation. He studied her face, waiting for the anger or betrayal to come, but there was nothing. Just the same emptiness that had been there for two years.

“Okay,” he said, his voice calm, resigned.

She blinked, her expression faltering. “Okay?” she repeated, as if she hadn’t expected that response. Her brow furrowed, and she set her book aside, sitting up straighter. “That’s it? Just… okay?”

He shrugged, slipping his hands into his pockets. “What do you want me to do about it? You’ve already done it.”

She searched his face, a flicker of frustration and hurt sparking in her eyes. “Why aren’t you angry, Franco?” Her voice was louder now, cracking slightly. “Why don’t you care? Why don’t you… love me? What did I do wrong?”

For the first time that evening, he felt something stir. Not anger, exactly, but a kind of distant ache. He looked at her—really looked at her—and saw the exhaustion in her face, the years of pretending, of building a life on a foundation that had never been real. And he knew, somehow, that she felt as trapped as he did.

“This isn’t about what you did wrong,” he said quietly. “I just… I don’t have it in me to love you, not in the way you want.”

She shook her head, her eyes brimming with frustration. “But we were supposed to be in this together. My father… Your team. The whole world expects it. I have tried, Franco. I’ve done everything I could to make this work. I just wanted you to see me, to try…”

He sighed, looking away. “We’ve been pretending for two years. It’s not that I haven’t seen you—I just don’t think we were ever meant to see each other this way.”

Her shoulders slumped, the fight draining out of her. She stared at her hands, twisted together in her lap. “So what now? We just keep living like this, sharing the same house, putting on a show for everyone?”

Franco didn’t have an answer for her. He didn’t know what they were supposed to do, what the next step would even look like. They were bound together by more than their vows—by the expectations, the pressure, the image of a life neither of them had chosen. He knew she deserved better than this emptiness, the hollow echo of what might have been.

After a moment, he sat down across from her, resting his elbows on his knees, his voice barely more than a whisper. “What do you want from me?”

She looked away, biting her lip, and for the first time he saw the loneliness in her eyes. "I don’t know," she murmured, her voice quiet. "I don’t know if I ever knew."

She looked down, fidgeting with the hem of her sweater, and then let out a long, quiet breath. "I’ll speak to my father," she said, her voice steady. “We’ll break it off. There’s… someone else. For me, I mean.”

Franco nodded, feeling only a strange sort of relief. “Okay.”

She gave a small, sad smile, as if she’d expected more—anger, maybe, or regret. “I’ll make sure he keeps the sponsors on your team,” she added, her voice softening. “It’s the least I can do.”

Franco shook his head. “He doesn’t have to. I don’t want you worrying about that.”

For a moment, she looked at him with something almost like sympathy. “Franco… it’s not your fault,” she said.

He frowned slightly, unsure what she meant. “What isn’t?”

She looked away, gathering her thoughts, and then back at him, her gaze unwavering. “It’s not your fault you still love her after all these years. Some things… they just don’t go away.”

His throat tightened, and he couldn’t find the words to respond. Her words hung between them, exposing something he’d tried to bury, something he hadn’t even admitted to himself. His silence was answer enough.

“She was a very lovely woman when I met her,” she continued, her voice softer, almost wistful. “I’m sure she hasn’t changed. I’m sure you two would be perfect together.”

He looked down, swallowing the ache in his chest. For all their distance, she’d seen more of him than he’d realised, even if they had never truly belonged to each other. Maybe she’d known all along. Maybe that’s why they’d been drifting from the beginning, like two people playing their parts, waiting for the script to finally run out.

He stood up, running a hand over the back of his neck, his voice low. “I’ll sleep in the guest room tonight.”

She nodded, her eyes full of an understanding that somehow made this harder. “Okay. Goodnight, Franco.”

He gave her a brief nod, then turned and headed down the hall, his footsteps soft against the hardwood. The walls of the house felt like a cage, closing in with every step, but he knew that maybe, for the first time, there was a way out—for both of them.

Franco closed the door to the guest room, feeling the weight of everything settling over him. He felt like a visitor in his own life, just as he had every day for the past two years. He slipped off his watch, set it on the nightstand, and reached for his phone to set an alarm.

Just as he did, his mother’s name lit up the screen. She called him every night, their routine barely wavering since he’d left home all those years ago to chase his dream. He answered, feeling a bit of the tension ease from his shoulders.

“Hey, Mama.”

“Oh, finally, you picked up! I thought I’d missed you tonight, hijo.” she said, her voice bright and warm, filling the room with a bit of comfort he hadn’t known he needed.

“Sorry. It’s been… a long day,” he replied, not sure where to start even if he’d wanted to.

“Oh, mi amor, I’m sorry to hear that,” she said, sympathy lacing her voice. She paused, her tone shifting to something lighter. “Well, you’ll never guess who I ran into today.”

He smiled slightly, settling back against the pillows. “Knowing you, mama, it could be anyone.”

“You flatter me,” she laughed. “But no, this one you’ll want to hear. I ran into your chiquita's mama at the market this morning.”

At the mention of his childhood best friend, Franco’s heart gave a small, involuntary jolt. He kept his voice casual, though he could feel his pulse quicken. “Oh yeah?”

“Guess who’s moving back home?” she said, her voice bright with excitement. “She’s coming back without that boyfriend of hers—what was his name, Angelo or something? Anyway, I don’t know what happened there, but her mama didn’t say much, just that she’ll be moving back in soon.”

Franco fell silent, her words sinking in. She was moving back. Back to the same town, back to where they’d both grown up. It was strange hearing it now, after all this time—especially tonight. He tried to imagine her there, close by, after years of being nothing more than a memory, a lingering ache. She hadn’t been in touch since his wedding. They hadn’t spoken, not really, since that day he’d confessed everything.

“Franco?” his mother asked, her voice pulling him back. “You still there?”

“Yeah,” he murmured. “Yeah, I’m here. Just… surprised, I guess.”

“Well, I thought you’d be pleased to know,” she said gently. “I don’t know why she’s moving back, and I suppose it’s none of my business, but I hope she’s doing alright. I always liked that girl.”

“Me too,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper.

He wondered what could have happened to bring her back. She’d seemed happy, at least in the few times he’d seen her in the public eye over the last two years—smiling, vibrant, that spark still in her. Whatever had drawn her back, he doubted it was anything good.

“Anyway, I just thought I’d tell you,” his mother went on, a hint of cheer in her voice. “I’m sure you’ll see her around when she’s back. Goodness knows you two could catch up. I’ll let you get some sleep, though. You sound tired, love.”

“I am,” he said honestly. “Thanks, mama.”

“Goodnight, mi amor,” she said softly. “Try not to worry so much. Things have a way of working out.”

He hung up, setting the phone down on the nightstand, but his mind kept circling back to her, the unanswered questions piling up. Why was she moving home? Why now, after everything?

He lay back, staring at the ceiling, feeling the quiet gnaw at him. For the first time in a long while, he felt something stirring beneath the emptiness—something that he hadn’t let himself feel since that day two years ago. A flicker of hope, of curiosity. And maybe, just maybe, the faintest hint of longing.

Franco woke up to an unsettling silence the following morning. The kind that felt thick, heavy, and somehow different from the usual quiet he’d grown accustomed to in this house. He rubbed his eyes, groggy, his mind still tangled in the remnants of last night’s conversation with his mother. She was moving back home. The thought had settled somewhere deep, like a stone sinking to the bottom of his chest, and he hadn’t stopped wondering why she’d come back.

He rose slowly, crossing the hall toward the master bedroom to grab his things, but as he reached the door, he noticed it was open just a crack. There was an odd stillness inside, an emptiness. Pushing the door open fully, he froze.

The wardrobes were wide open, their shelves bare, nothing left but empty hangers. He scanned the room, taking in the strange absence of her things: the jewellery stand, her perfumes, even the photos from the dresser—all gone.

On the bed, her wedding band glinted in the morning light, sitting atop a folded sheet of paper. Heart pounding, Franco walked over and picked up the note, her familiar handwriting scrawled across the page in clean, deliberate strokes.

"Go live a life you’ll enjoy. Go get the girl."

He read the words over and over, the reality slowly sinking in. She had really left. It was over, finally—no more strained conversations, no more pretences, no more empty rooms they shared out of duty. She had made the choice for both of them, letting him go in a way neither of them had been able to until now.

He let out a slow, deep breath, feeling a strange mixture of relief and regret. She had given him a way out, but he felt a twinge of sadness for the life they’d tried and failed to build, and for the woman who’d known him well enough to let him go.

After a moment, he picked up his phone and scrolled to his agent’s number. It rang twice before Eddie answered, his voice thick with sleep.

“Franco? It’s barely morning. You okay?”

Franco ran a hand through his hair, still processing everything. “Yeah. Listen, Eddie, I need you to book me a flight.”

“A flight? Where are you going?”

“Home. To Argentina.” He paused, and for the first time in two years, the words felt right. “I just need to go home.”

Eddie hesitated on the other end. “You sure about this?”

“Yes. I’ll figure everything out when I get there,” Franco replied, feeling a resolve he hadn’t felt in years.

Eddie sighed, but there was something like approval in his voice. “Alright, I’ll get it sorted. You’ll be on a plane by tonight.”

“Thank you, Eddie.” Franco hung up, glancing around the room one last time. He pocketed her note, her words still echoing in his mind.

True to Eddie's word, Franco was on a flight six hours later. The journey was a blur of cramped seats, stale air, and the faint taste of regret that clung to the back of his throat. The turbulence was relentless, like some cosmic joke, as if the universe itself wanted to remind him that nothing had ever been easy. He tried to sleep, but the aching pull of everything he’d left behind in that house—his marriage, his choices, his dreams—kept him awake, staring out at the dark sky, thinking of all the roads that had led him here.

By the time he landed in Buenos Aires and caught a car for the long drive north to his family's old village, the exhaustion had crept under his skin, weighing him down like a thousand unspoken words. But the quiet beauty of the countryside—the sun setting over fields that stretched on forever—started to soothe him, even if just a little.

The car ride seemed endless, every minute dragging with the weight of his thoughts. But when the familiar sight of his family’s village finally came into view—cobblestone streets, thatched roofs, the scent of freshly baked bread hanging in the air—something inside Franco began to shift. The city felt miles away, the noise, the crowds, the weight of his past life all falling away as he crossed into the place that had always felt like home.

The moment he stepped through the door of his childhood house, all of that exhaustion seemed to vanish. The house was exactly as he remembered it—warm, full of life, and alive with the kind of energy he hadn't felt in so long. His mother’s soft humming from the kitchen filled the air, the scent of her cooking familiar and comforting in a way nothing else ever had been.

“Mama?” he called, stepping into the kitchen.

She looked up from the stove, a warm smile spreading across her face as she caught sight of him. It was like the years had slipped away in an instant, and before he could even move, she was across the room, enveloping him in her arms.

“Oh, hijo,” she said, pulling him in tight. “You’re home. You’re really home.”

Franco closed his eyes for a moment, inhaling the comforting smells of garlic and simmering stew. It was the same as it had always been. His mother’s embrace felt like a balm, her steady, familiar presence filling up the spaces in his chest that had been empty for so long. He let himself relax into the hug, feeling like he could finally breathe again.

“Yeah, mama,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m home.”

She pulled back, looking at him with concern now, her gaze soft but knowing. “You look like you’ve been through a storm. What happened, Franco?”

He shook his head, a slight smile tugging at his lips. “It’s… been a hot minute.”

She stepped back, eyes still lingering on him as she turned toward the counter, gesturing for him to sit. "Come, sit. You must be starving."

As he slid into the chair at the table, his mother’s eyes flickered to his left hand, where the ring had once sat. The absence of it didn’t go unnoticed.

"Franco," she said softly, her voice delicate but insistent, “Where’s your wedding ring?”

He froze, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the spot where the band had once been. The question hit him harder than he expected, like a weight on his chest.

He took a deep breath, his words coming out slow, almost reluctant. "I… I never loved her, Mama. Not like I should’ve. Not like I should’ve loved the person I married."

His mother didn’t flinch, didn’t offer a shocked look or try to comfort him with false reassurances. Instead, she simply nodded, as if she had known all along. The silence between them was calm, understanding.

"I knew," she said, her voice gentle but firm. "I knew from the start, Franco. I could see it. You were never... you were never right with her."

He exhaled, a small weight lifting from his chest. His mother didn’t judge him. She hadn’t expected him to make some fairy tale of a marriage. She had always known him better than anyone.

"Why didn’t you say something?" he asked, the question slipping out before he could stop it.

She smiled softly, her hand brushing his cheek. "You had to learn it on your own, cariño. I couldn’t take that from you."

He sat back in his chair, letting her words sink in. This was home. The quiet understanding, the unconditional love. The very things he had been running from for so long. And now, in this moment, he felt like he was finally allowed to come back to it.

His mother leaned in, brushing the hair from his forehead as if he were still that little boy who had left for the big city years ago. "You’ll be alright, Franco. I know you will. You always find your way back."

He smiled, his heart full, and reached across the table to squeeze her hand. "Thanks, Mama," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I think I’m ready to find it now."

His mother studied him for a moment, as if weighing whether to say more. The comfortable silence stretched between them before she finally spoke, her voice casual, but with a slight undercurrent of something he couldn’t quite place.

“You know, she moved back this morning,” she said, a soft note of curiosity in her tone.

Franco looked up sharply, his stomach tightening at the mention of her. “She did?”

His mother nodded, stirring a pot on the stove. He shifted in his seat, trying to steady the flutter of emotions that were beginning to rise in his chest. She was back. The thought of her living just next door made his heart ache in ways he wasn’t prepared for, especially after everything that had happened. It felt like a sign, but it also felt like a question—one he didn’t know if he was ready to answer.

“I don’t know what’s happened,” he said, the words coming out quieter than he intended. “But I’m sure it’s for the best. She’s probably just trying to figure things out.”

His mother gave him a thoughtful look before turning back to the stove. "It’s not easy, you know. Coming back here after all those years. Maybe she just needs some time. Things haven't been easy for her, either."

Franco nodded absently, his mind already racing, a thousand thoughts flooding his mind. He’d always wondered what it would be like if they were close again—if the years between them could just vanish, and they could pick up where they left off. But that was before everything had changed.

Before he’d made a mess of everything.

“I’ll give her space,” he said after a long pause. “She clearly needs it if she’s come back home. I don’t want to crowd her, not like this.”

His mother looked at him for a long moment, her gaze soft and full of the kind of love only a mother could offer. She didn’t press, but Franco could tell she was seeing more in him than he was letting on. She always had that way of reading him, even when he didn’t want to be read.

“I think that’s wise, Franco,” she said quietly. “But don’t wait too long. Sometimes, the right things—people—can slip away if we don’t take the chance when we can.” She gave him a small smile, her eyes gentle but full of a mother’s wisdom. “Don’t make the same mistake twice.”

He swallowed hard, looking down at his hands. The right things... people. Was she talking about her?

He wasn’t sure. What he was sure of was that he had already lost so much—lost the girl he had once called his best friend. His true love. That much was clear.

But he couldn’t make the same mistake again. Not with her. Not now.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I won’t. I’ll give her the time she needs… and then, I’ll figure out what comes next.” He forced a small smile, looking back up at her. “But first, I think I need to settle in here, Mama. Just for a bit.”

She smiled warmly at him, nodding as she moved to set the table. “Take your time, cariño. You’ve earned it.” Then she added softly, almost to herself, “And when you’re ready, you know where she is.”

Franco nodded, the weight of her words hanging in the air like a promise he wasn’t sure he was ready to make. He had to sort through the years of distance, the pain, the confusion, and the mess he had made before he could even think of approaching her again.

That night the house was quiet as Franco prepared for bed, the kind of quiet that settled deep into the bones. The weight of the day’s emotions, of the journey—of everything—pressed on him like a physical force, but he couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something was still missing.

He stood in front of the mirror, his eyes scanning the reflection—a man who hadn’t truly looked at himself in a long time. His face was a little more worn, the years of racing and the strain of the past two had carved lines into his features. And yet, there was a boy in those eyes too—the one who used to laugh freely, who used to dream of more than just what life had given him.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, the quiet ache of the past two years swirling in his chest again. Where did it all go wrong? He’d asked himself this so many times, but the answer had never been clear. His life had seemed like it was on track, until it suddenly wasn’t. Until it all came crashing down, leaving him here, in his childhood home, looking at a version of himself he didn’t recognise.

Where did it all go to shit?

He turned away from the mirror, needing a moment of peace, a change of scenery. The night air felt crisp as he stepped out onto the balcony, the soft night breeze brushing against his skin. The village was quiet, the distant sound of crickets filling the silence. The stars above him were impossibly bright, as if they had been waiting for him to step out into this space to show themselves.

For a moment, he just stood there, taking it all in. The vast sky, the deep silence, the comfort of being home, of being away from all the chaos of the life he’d left behind. He closed his eyes for a beat, letting himself breathe.

Then, he froze.

From across the yard, on the roof of the house next door, a figure was sitting—her silhouette outlined by the soft glow of the stars.

Franco didn’t know how long she’d been sitting there. The sight of her—after all these years—was like a jolt to the chest, a flood of old memories and emotions crashing over him.

At first, he considered turning back into the house, pretending he hadn’t seen her, pretending the universe wasn’t trying to push him into a conversation he wasn’t ready for. But his feet stayed rooted to the ground, his eyes locked on her figure, so familiar, so her. He hadn’t expected to see her tonight, especially not like this. Not sitting on the roof, in the same place they used to sit together as kids, watching the stars and talking about everything and nothing.

He had no idea how to approach her.

Before he could make up his mind, she spoke, her voice drifting through the night air, quiet but unmistakable. “Staring’s rude, you know.”

Franco’s breath caught in his throat, his chest tightening at the sound of her voice. It had been so long since he’d heard it, and yet it felt like no time had passed at all.

He stayed where he was, still unsure, a little frozen by the way his heart was racing. “I didn’t think you’d notice,” he finally said, his voice coming out quieter than he intended.

She tilted her head slightly, but didn’t look directly at him. “I always notice,” she replied, a faint smile playing on her lips, though her tone was more playful than anything else.

He let out a small laugh, a bit surprised by her nonchalance. It was just like her to act so casual, even in the middle of something heavy.

“I wasn’t planning to interrupt,” he added, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. "Just thought I'd leave you to it."

She didn’t respond right away, but he could see the way her gaze flickered toward him, though she didn’t move. After a beat, she spoke again, her voice quieter now. “You came home.”

“I did,” he said, his heart racing as he stood there, not knowing where to go from here. “Took me a while, but I’m here.”

She nodded, the soft rustle of her hair catching the starlight. "Good. I didn’t think you would."

Franco swallowed, the weight of the unspoken words hanging thick between them. "I... didn’t think I would either."

There was another pause, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Just... heavy, in a way that felt like they were both waiting for something. Waiting for the moment when they could go back to being what they once were. But Franco knew, deep down, that it wasn’t going to be that simple. Too much had happened between them, too many years spent apart.

Her voice broke the quiet, her words soft but inviting. “There’s space next to me. You should come up here.”

Franco hesitated for a second longer, unsure, but something in her tone, a subtle pull, urged him forward. He glanced around briefly before deciding to take a chance.

Carefully, he climbed over the small stone wall dividing their balconies, his fingers finding familiar purchase as he pulled himself over. The moment his feet hit the roof, the memories of their childhood came rushing back—sitting on the very same roof, talking about everything and nothing, watching the stars as if they were the only two people in the world.

It felt surreal, like no time had passed at all, even though everything between them had changed.

She was already sitting cross-legged, her back turned slightly toward him, but she patted the spot next to her, silently urging him to join her. He moved toward her, then sat down, the cool roof beneath him grounding him in a way he hadn’t expected.

When he finally reached the top, she shifted to make room, and before he even fully settled beside her, she was resting her head on his shoulder. It was as natural as breathing, a comfort he hadn’t realised he’d been starved for.

The night seemed to stretch on forever as they sat together, not speaking, just sharing the same space, the same memories that lingered between them like a soft, delicate thread. It was as though the silence held all the things they couldn’t say out loud.

Finally, it was her who broke the quiet, her voice low and tinged with regret. “Sorry I never replied to your letter.”

Franco’s heart stuttered in his chest at the mention of the letter. He hadn’t expected her to bring it up, not after everything that had happened. Slowly, he turned his head to look at her, his voice barely a whisper. “You... you received it?”

She nodded slowly, lifting her head from his shoulder but not fully pulling away. She stared up at the stars, her fingers absentmindedly tracing shapes in the air. “Four days ago,” she said, her voice soft and distant, as though the words were hard to say.

Four days ago.

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. The letter. The letter he’d written years ago, before everything spiralled out of control, before the wedding, before he called it all off. The letter where he had laid bare his feelings for her—telling her everything he’d never had the courage to say before. Telling her that he loved her. That he’d leave his fiancé for her. That he wanted to be with her.

The letter had been the final step, the desperate confession that he couldn’t hold inside any longer.

“I… I didn’t know,” Franco muttered, his throat tight. “I sent it because I thought you needed to know. I thought you needed to hear it.” He paused, looking down at his hands. “I didn’t expect you to just—ignore it.”

Her breath hitched slightly, and she looked over at him, her eyes meeting his with an intensity that made him ache. “I didn’t ignore it,” she said softly. “I didn’t know about it. Angelo hid it from me.”

Franco froze. Angelo. The same guy she’d been with all those years, the one who had kept the letter from her. The weight of it hit him hard, a cold knot in his stomach. “He hid it?” His voice barely came out above a whisper.

She nodded, her eyes not leaving his. “I only found it four days ago when I was packing.” She paused, as though weighing whether or not to say more, then sighed. “He kept it from me, Franco. Told me it was nothing, just some silly thing from the past. But it wasn’t nothing. It was you. It was everything you were trying to say. And I didn’t even know until hours before your wedding.”

Franco could feel his chest tighten, the words he had written, the words that had been locked inside of him for so long, echoing in the space between them. He had no idea she’d never received it. No idea she had been living in that oblivion, thinking that nothing had changed when, in reality, everything had been laid out for her years ago.

Franco closed his eyes, the weight of her words settling over him. His entire life had been built around the lies he’d told himself, and in the end, he had only hurt the one person who had always been there for him.

When he opened his eyes again, he was staring at the sky, the stars so far away. “I never stopped loving you,” he said quietly, the confession falling from his lips before he could stop it. “I never stopped thinking about you, even when I thought I should. Even when I tried to move on, I always... always thought about you. About Monza.”

Her voice was soft but steady, a quiet confession in the night air. “I shouldn’t have come to that wedding,” she said, her words hanging in the space between them like a breath held too long.

Franco blinked, his heart stuttering slightly in his chest as he turned to look at her. “Why?”

She sighed, her eyes focused on the distant horizon, her expression unreadable in the soft glow of the moon. “Because I thought I was over you, Franco. I really did. I thought that seeing you get married to someone else, someone who wasn’t me, would help me move on. But when I watched you declare your love for me in front of everyone... it hit me all at once. I felt like I was coasting through a lie with Angelo for two years.”

Franco’s chest tightened at the mention of Angelo again, but he didn’t interrupt. He knew this was something that had been simmering beneath the surface for a long time, something they had never really spoken about. She took a slow breath, her fingers playing with the hem of her shirt as she spoke again.

“I couldn’t give him all of me,” she continued, her voice wavering for the first time, just the slightest crack in her calm demeanour. “When you still had half my heart.”

Franco felt a lump form in his throat at her words. She still loved him. Despite everything, despite the time apart, despite the man she had been with, a part of her had never truly moved on.

He didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t find the right words to express the swirl of emotions inside him. The guilt, the confusion, the longing. All he could do was listen, his heart aching with each word she spoke.

“Amor…” His voice faltered, and he cleared his throat, trying to find his grounding. “She cheated on me. My wife.” He added as though she needed clarification.

Her head jerked up, her eyes wide with surprise, but she said nothing. She waited for him to continue, her breath catching in her throat.

Franco stared out at the stars, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I didn’t feel much at first. I think I expected it. In some way, I always did. I’d been living in a marriage where I wasn’t really present for a long time.” He paused, his eyes distant as he recalled the feeling of his world unravelling. “But... when I found out, I couldn’t feel anything. It was like I had already shut myself off from it all.”

She studied him, her gaze soft but piercing. “Really? You didn’t feel... anything?”

Franco’s heart twisted, “I felt guilty,” he admitted, his voice low. "I didn’t feel hurt or anger. I just felt... guilty."

She frowned, the confusion and concern evident in her eyes. “Guilty? Why? You didn’t cheat. You weren’t the one betraying her.”

Franco chuckled bitterly, a hollow sound that felt foreign to him. “No, I didn’t cheat. But I’ve been mentally cheating on her for years now.” His voice cracked slightly, the admission slipping out before he could stop it. “With you. I’ve been thinking about you. Wanting you. Wondering... what could have been.”

Her breath caught in her throat, and she stared at him for a long moment, the weight of his confession hanging between them like an invisible force. The air was thick, heavy with the things they hadn’t said, the things they had both buried for too long.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The only sound was the distant rustle of the trees, the wind whispering through the leaves. Then, she shifted slightly, her fingers brushing against his, tentative, like she wasn’t sure if it was okay to reach out. But Franco didn’t pull away. He let her fingers weave through his, and for a moment, they were back to the way they used to be—close, without words, just a connection that had never truly faded.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice breaking the silence again. “I didn’t mean to make things more complicated for you. I never wanted you to feel guilty.”

Franco shook his head, his fingers tightening around hers. “You didn’t. It’s my fault. I should’ve been honest with myself. With you. With everyone.”

Her hand found his, her grip soft but reassuring. “We can’t undo the past, Franco. But maybe... maybe we can stop running from it.” She looked up at him, her eyes searching his face for something—maybe a sign that they were on the same page, that this wasn’t just a momentary lapse, but the beginning of something else.

Franco’s heart skipped a beat. The ache inside him—this pull, this longing—felt more real now than it ever had before. But he couldn’t let himself get lost in it. Not yet. Not before he figured out what came next.

“Maybe,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “Maybe we can.”

But for now, they stayed there, hand in hand, watching the stars as the night stretched on—together, but not quite ready to bridge the distance between them. The future was uncertain, but in that moment, with her close to him again, it felt like the possibility of a new beginning was still there.

And maybe that was enough.

She shifted slightly, pulling her knees closer to her chest as she stared up at the night sky, the stars scattered above them like little pieces of a puzzle they couldn’t quite put together. Her voice broke the quiet again, this time more introspective, tinged with a kind of sadness that Franco couldn’t shake. “Why are we like this?” she asked softly, the question hanging in the air between them. “Why can’t we ever get it right? Why does it feel like we keep missing each other?”

Franco felt a lump form in his throat as he turned his head to look at her. He had no answer. No easy explanation for the years of missed opportunities, the broken promises, the things left unsaid. All he could do was let the silence stretch for a moment before he spoke, his voice thick with regret.

“I don’t deserve you,” he said, his words barely audible, but full of the weight of everything he had kept buried for so long.

Her hand tightened around his, her fingers warm and steady against his skin. She didn’t look at him immediately. She just stared at the stars, letting the night take them both in. But when she did speak, her voice was clear, almost a little too sharp, as if she were trying to distance herself from the ache inside.

“I know,” she said, her words simple, yet filled with the unspoken truth between them.

Franco exhaled slowly, his chest tight with the unrelenting guilt that seemed to follow him wherever he went. “I really don’t,” he added, his tone heavier this time, the words more raw, like they were scraping against his very soul.

She turned her head slightly, her eyes soft but steady as she met his gaze. “But you’ll always have me anyway,” she said, her voice gentle, almost a whisper, but strong in its promise. “All of me. Even if you think you don’t deserve it, even if you feel like you’ve lost me, I’m still here. I always will be.”

Franco closed his eyes, his heart pounding in his chest. He wanted to believe her. He wanted to reach out and pull her into him, to hold on to the promise she was offering, but he knew that he had to fix everything first. He had to prove to himself, to her, that he was worthy.

After a long moment, his mind shifted, a question bubbling up to the surface, something that had been nagging at him for a while now. “What happened to Angelo?” he asked, his voice quiet, but urgent with curiosity.

Her gaze flickered away, her expression becoming unreadable for a brief second. She didn’t speak at first, but then, she sighed, her voice small as she turned her head back toward the night sky.

“He proposed,” she said softly, her words hitting Franco like a punch to the gut. “He got down on one knee, right there in the middle of a restaurant, and asked me to marry him.”

Franco’s heart sank. He had imagined the two of them together, but hearing her speak those words, hearing the finality in her tone, made something inside him shift. His breath caught in his throat.

“And you didn’t say yes,” he whispered, the realisation washing over him slowly, painfully.

She shook her head, her fingers grazing the edge of her sleeve as she gathered her thoughts. “I couldn’t bring myself to say yes,” she murmured, her voice distant, like the memory still held weight over her. “I couldn’t lie to him, and I couldn’t lie to myself anymore. Not after everything. I just... I couldn’t. And when I looked at him, I knew something wasn’t right. I knew that the whole time, I had been lying to both of us, pretending that he was enough when I wasn’t even sure of myself.”

Franco felt his chest tighten, his heart aching with understanding. “I’m sorry,” he said, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. He wasn’t sure if he was apologising for Angelo, for her, or for himself, but it felt like the right thing to say. “I’m sorry for everything.”

She didn’t respond right away. She just sat there beside him, her head back on his shoulder, her fingers still twined with his. The night stretched on, both of them lost in their own thoughts, but there was something in the air that felt different now. It wasn’t just the weight of their shared history or the unsaid words that hovered between them. There was something else.

Something that, for the first time, felt like the beginning of something new.

After a while, she spoke again, her voice barely audible. “I never wanted to hurt him. But I couldn’t pretend anymore. Not when you’re still here, not when you’ve always been here, Franco.”

Franco closed his eyes, his fingers tracing the curve of her hand. “I understand,” he whispered, though he wasn’t sure if he did. He wasn’t sure of anything right now except that he needed to make it right—whatever that looked like.

They stayed like that for what felt like hours, the quiet stretching between them, neither of them in a rush to break the stillness. The night air was cool against their skin, and the stars above seemed to twinkle with the same quiet understanding that hung in the air. For the first time in years, it felt like they were both exactly where they were meant to be—together.

But slowly, the rhythm of her breathing changed, softening, slowing. Franco felt it before he saw it, the gentle shift in the weight on his shoulder. He glanced down, his heart softening at the sight of her—her lashes fluttering closed, her face serene and peaceful in sleep. She was completely relaxed, as if the weight of everything had been lifted, even if just for a moment.

He didn’t move, didn’t want to disturb the quiet that had settled between them. But as minutes ticked by, he knew it was time to move her. Carefully, he slipped his arm beneath her, lifting her gently, cradling her close. Her head rested on his chest as he stood, her body instinctively curling against him. She felt weightless in his arms, and for a second, he couldn’t believe how natural it all felt.

As he carried her through the door to her room, the familiar smell of her childhood home wrapped around him—the scent of lavender and old wood, a place both foreign and intimately familiar. The room was just as he remembered, simple and cosy, with little traces of her scattered throughout. He looked down at the floor he used to sleep on when they were young The soft, pale light of the moon filtered through the window, casting everything in a gentle glow.

He placed her gently in the bed, tucking the covers around her small frame. For a moment, he just stood there, watching her, his chest heavy with emotion. Everything about this felt so right, so painfully wrong at the same time. He should have been here years ago. He should have never let things get so far. But now, he was here. And he wasn’t going anywhere.

He leaned down, brushing a strand of hair away from her face before pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. His lips lingered there for a second longer than he meant to, his heart aching with all the things he never said.

Just as he turned to leave, to head back to his own house, her voice stopped him.

“Don’t.”

Franco froze. His hand rested on the window frame , his heart stalling in his chest. He turned slowly, not sure if he had heard her correctly.

“What?” he asked, his voice quiet, almost unsure.

She looked up at him, her eyes still heavy with sleep, but there was something in her gaze—vulnerable, raw, but full of longing. “Don’t go,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I can’t watch you walk away again. Please don’t.”

For a moment, Franco stood there, his chest tight as he processed her words. Don’t go. It was all he needed to hear. She didn’t want him to leave. After everything that had happened, after all the distance between them, she still wanted him here.

He walked back toward the bed, his movements slow and deliberate. He didn’t need to say anything; the weight of the moment, the look in her eyes, said it all. He carefully slid under the covers, settling beside her, the warmth of her body so familiar yet so new.

Without a word, she shifted, curling into him, her head finding its place on his chest, her hand resting gently against his side. Franco wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close, and for the first time in a long time, he felt at peace. It wasn’t a perfect moment, but it was real. And it was theirs.

They stayed there, the rhythm of their breathing slowly syncing, the quiet of the night wrapping around them. No more words were needed. No more distance. Just the two of them, together, holding on to each other like they were afraid to let go.

And as they drifted off to sleep, tangled together beneath the covers, Franco realised that this moment—this feeling of being home—was everything he had been searching for.

Home.

Her.

It was all synonymous.

She was his home.

the end.

taglist: @sp1rl @yennasaurusrex @ellen3101 @firefirevampire @directioner5life @littlegrapejuice @obxstiles @scopeiguess @newlifeforus @justsisse @zestytimbit @taygrls @charlosvibesonly @sparkleofpizza

jake ver of "bro she's busy" ........ please 🙏🏽

bro she’s busy

- jake texts

enhypen texts masterlist

ur wish is my command! heeseung vers coming soon too dw it’s on my list ^^

---

AITA for cheating on my girlfriend with her best friend?

Poster: u/sukunathekingofcurus69 4 days. ago

Alright, listen up. I know this sounds bad, and yeah, it is bad, but I need some advice here. Me and my girl, Y/N, have been together for almost three years. She’s... incredible. Like, the kind of woman you actually settle down with, build a life with, y'know? Problem is, we've never been intimate. She's waiting for marriage. She was upfront about it, told me from the start. Said I could walk if that wasn’t gonna work for me, but I didn’t care. I thought I could handle it because I love her. But, man, it’s been tough.

So here’s where I really screwed up. One day, her best friend—yeah, her best friend—came by the apartment when Y/N wasn’t home. She had to grab something, whatever. We started talking, and somehow, one thing led to another, and we ended up sleeping together. In our bed. It was a one-time thing, and I feel like absolute trash about it.

The thing is, I don’t have feelings for her friend. At all. It just happened, and I’ve realized she’s been waiting for an opportunity like this to mess things up for Y/N. Her friends, they don’t really like Y/N, and I’m only seeing now that I walked right into her trap. Now her friend’s telling me to leave Y/N and be with her, but that’s not happening. I love Y/N. I just made one really, really bad mistake.

So, yeah, I screwed up big time. I don’t know how to tell Y/N because I know it’s gonna destroy her. But if I don’t tell her, it’ll eat me alive. Think she could ever forgive me for this, or am I just done here? What’s my next move?

Top comments on this post

u/gojohatesyourass : Dude... what did you expect? You cheated on your girlfriend with her best friend. There’s no way to sugarcoat this. Y/N trusted you with something really important to her, and instead of talking to her about how you were feeling, you went and slept with her friend? That’s just a massive betrayal on both sides. You didn’t just hurt her—you disrespected her completely.

u/yujithegoatttt : Bro, you’re so wrong here, it’s not even funny. She was clear with you about what she wanted from the start, and you agreed to it. If you couldn’t handle it, you should have talked to her or even left the relationship if it was too much. But nah, you decided to sleep with her friend instead. What’s even worse is doing it in your bed. Total lack of respect for your girl.

u/tojiownyourass88 : Yikes. “It was just one mistake.” Dude, cheating isn't a mistake, it's a choice. And not only did you cheat, but you did it with someone who doesn’t even respect your girlfriend. Like, how do you expect her to ever trust you again? Not to mention, you're just now realizing that her friends don’t like her? It’s messed up on so many levels.

u/getoKFCowner : You said it yourself: she's the type of girl you marry, but you just trashed your future with her. If you really cared about her, you wouldn’t have let yourself get into this situation. "I was pent up" isn’t an excuse—you're an adult, and you need to be able to control yourself. You owe her the truth, even if it hurts. And be ready for her to walk away because that’s what most people would do.

u/ballsack63973 : What gets me is that you’re still trying to make excuses. “I was pent up for years.” Come on, man. You’ve got a brain, right? If you were struggling with not being intimate, you should have talked to her about it. Cheating on her with her friend? That’s on you. You need to tell her ASAP and be ready for whatever she decides because honestly, she deserves better than this.

Update: u/sukunathekingofcurus69 (2 days. ago)

I’ve read all of your comments, and things have taken a turn. I think her friends might’ve said something because Y/N has been acting distant with me. And honestly, I’m terrified. Normally, Y/N is quiet, but it’s always been a comfortable silence. Now, though? It feels heavy, like she knows something’s wrong.

Last night, I couldn’t sleep, and I heard her crying. When I asked her what was going on, she just said she didn’t know, but that she felt like something had gone wrong. Her intuition is crazy strong—like, ridiculously on point. She can always sense when something’s off, and I couldn’t even bring myself to tell her the truth. I lied again.

I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up. I’m planning to tell her in the morning, but I’m terrified that when I do, it’ll be the last time I see her. I feel like I’ve already lost her.

The friend I slept with? She’s been texting and calling non-stop, to the point where I had to block her. But I’m scared she’s going to get mad and tell Y/N everything before I do. Almost everyone knows now, except Y/N, and it’s killing me. I feel like absolute trash, and I even broke down and cried for the first time in years.

I wish I could take it all back. Y/N didn’t deserve any of this, and I know I have to come clean.

Top comments on this post

u/gojohatesyourass : You’re already losing her, man. You can feel it, and now she’s crying, probably sensing that something’s off. She might not know the details yet, but her intuition is telling her something is wrong. Every second you don’t come clean, the deeper you’re digging this hole. You’re already in a bad spot—if you don’t tell her now, she’s gonna hear it from someone else, and that’s gonna hurt even worse.

u/tojiownyourass88 : I get that you're scared, but it's too late to keep running from this. Your girlfriend deserves the truth, especially if she's already sensing something's up. Do it face-to-face, be completely honest, and don't let her hear it from her so-called friends. You've already hurt her, but lying further will just make it worse.

u/yujithegoatttt : You’re scared to lose her, but you already have lost her trust, man. Keeping this secret longer will destroy any chance you have at even remaining civil with her. If she finds out from someone else? Game over. She’s already crying because she can sense something’s wrong. Be honest with her before this gets even worse.

Update: u/sukunathekingofcurus69 (1 day. ago)

So, yeah… it’s done. I told her. And now, I genuinely feel like I want to disappear. This woman has done nothing but love and care for me, and I completely shattered her.

I told her everything—everything that happened—and I was terrified. I thought she’d scream, or maybe even hit me, because honestly, I deserve the worst. But none of that happened.

She just sat there, in complete silence, and I watched as her face went from shock to pure devastation. She didn’t yell. She didn’t cry. She just looked like a part of her soul had been ripped out.

And now she’s blaming herself for what I did. She kept saying how she wasn’t enough, how she must’ve pushed me away. I’ve never seen her like this—so hurt and so broken. I hate myself for putting her through this. I don’t know why I did it. Like… why?

I don’t know if this will be my last update, but I need time to figure things out and try to see things more clearly. She’s gone. She didn’t say where she was going—she just left. I’m lost, man. I don’t know what to do anymore.

Top comments on this post

u/meumidontholdback : You really didn’t understand the weight of your actions until now, huh? The fact that she’s blaming herself for your mistake is heartbreaking. You broke her trust, her spirit, and probably your entire relationship. It’s not just about her leaving; it’s about the damage you caused. She doesn’t deserve this. You need to face the consequences and stop wallowing in self-pity. If you really loved her, you’d understand the depth of what you’ve done.

u/getoKFCowner : She left, man. That says everything. The fact that she didn’t even argue with you shows just how deeply you’ve hurt her. She’s so broken she’s blaming herself for your betrayal. That’s on you to fix, but honestly, she might be better off without you now. You didn’t just cheat—you tore down the foundation of her self-worth. I don’t even know if you can come back from this, but you owe her an apology from the heart, and then some.

u/ballsack63973 : This is what cheating does, bro. It doesn’t just hurt—it destroys people. She’s gone, and I don’t know if there’s any coming back from this for either of you. You didn’t just hurt her; you made her question her worth, and that’s the worst part. The only thing you can do now is give her space and, if she ever wants to talk, be honest and take full responsibility. But don’t expect forgiveness. You crossed a line that can’t be uncrossed.

Update: u/sukunathekingofcurus69 (1 hr. ago)

This is probably my last update. We’ve officially broken up, and honestly, I don’t think I’ll ever meet someone like her again. I have no one to blame but myself for this mess. I am a degenerate who only think with his dick.

so update on the friend. and the whole friend group I guess. so she seems to have blocked them and everyone. the friend even had the fucking audacity to make it seem like I forced her and it was all me but for fuck sake. y/n did not buy any of it and just told her to fuck off.

I heard she’s going to visit her grandparents in her home country, and I honestly don’t know if she’ll come back. But even if she does, it doesn’t change anything—we’re done.

Now I have the actual freedom to sleep with anyone, but I can't even do it. literally, I didn't even know how good I had it. life was peaceful and so secure that I thought she was boring. but fuck. I want to bash my head into the wall.

Please, anyone reading this—especially guys—don’t do what I did. I’m a complete idiot. a fucking idiot.

I think I should also go and visit my grandfather. I need that old man to straighten me out.

Top comments on this post

u/meumidontholdback: You definitely need to take time to think and reflect. You do sound regretful, which is a good start, but that’s only one step. Make sure you don’t just keep feeling sorry for yourself.

u/nobaratheitgirl: I literally made a Reddit account just to come and say this. You are the biggest loser and asshole this green earth has ever seen. Like, the audacity of some man amazes me. But you got what you deserve. And for that so-called friend and friend group? I hope you all get your karma because this girl is your friend, and you slept with her boyfriend. Your self-esteem is so low that you have to go after your best friend’s man? Shame on all of you. Y/N, I hope you take the time to heal and grow. You deserve better than this shithead. You are the victim here, so don’t blame yourself. I love you, and the rest of you can just fuck off.

u/yujithegoatttt: I totally agree with that girl who just cursed everyone out. Y/N deserves so much better. She was betrayed by snakes, and I hope she gets the help she needs to heal.

u/ballsack63973: Asshole, stupid fuck, cunt. There’s really no other way to say it. What a fucking loser.

Me too dia... me too

one of the girls in a nutshell

mila w/ enha: i just wanna be one of your girls tonight…

mila w/ this mf: lock me up and throw away the key, he knows how to get the best out of me….

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

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“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.

𝐖𝐀𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 (p.sh) — TRAILER

PAIRING: knight!sunghoon x queen!reader (f)

SUMMARY: after your parents death, you were forced to be crowned queen of the north realm and decided to take a young sargent as your personal guard. however, you can’t ignore the evident tension between the two of you, that will lead to some… illicit affairs. well, it never happened if nobody knows, right?

WARNINGS: 1800s au. mentions of war and death, fencing terms, sexual tension, unprotected sex (they didn’t have condoms, did they?), masturbation, dirty talk, missionary, fingering, more to be added!

PUBLISHED: soon! (at least, i hope so)

WC: ??

TAGLIST: (permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @jwnghyuns @bangtancultsposts @shawnyle @jooniesbears-blog @skzenhalove @ro-diaries @onlyhyunjin @xcosmi @strawberrhypen @heeheeswifey comment to be added!

NOW PLAYING: War Of Hearts by Ruelle

GET WELL SOON , P.SH !

﹙ 🍁 ﹚ ぃ ──── I KNOW IT'S MY FAULT, BUT I WANNA MAKE IT BETTER!

PAIRING: racer ! sunghoon × orphan ! afab reader.

SYNOPSIS: You’ve always considered yourself a good person—kind, forgiving, and patient. But Sunghoon tested every bit of that. One reckless, drunken drive was all it took for him to flip your life upside down, leaving you temporarily confined to a wheelchair. The inconvenience was more than just physical; it was a wound to your pride and independence. Sunghoon, however, refused to walk away from his mistake. Guilt-ridden and determined to make amends, he became a constant presence in your life—covering your medical bills, offering you emotional support, and sticking around even when you wished he wouldn’t.

WORD COUNT: 19.2K

FEAT: WONYOUNG from IVE, JAY from ENHYPEN, HANNI from NEWJEANS, + some ocs

MENTIONS OF CRIME & ACCIDENT, OVERALL FLUFF & CRACK !

MORE LIKE THIS? || MASTERLIST?

TAGLIST: @chexnluv @moonpri @wensurr @jiyeons-closet @isa942572 @jkslvsnella @woniefull @aleeza444 @capri-cuntz @vi-ri @hotteokisms @flwwon @shhth @lialaiakalaiiaia (the ones in bold couldn't be tagged)

AS YOU LAY IN THE HOSPITAL BED, the sterile scent of antiseptic in the air, your gaze drifted to the bouquet of white roses on the table beside you. A scoff slipped from your lips before you could stop it, a bitter reminder of why you were even here.

This was all his fault. Park Sunghoon.

For a second, you tried to maintain your calm, the nice person part of you struggling to hold on, but that guy—he tested all of it.

“Throw them away, please?” you asked, your voice clipped as you turned to the nurse adjusting your IV.

Before she could respond, an infuriatingly familiar voice cut through the room, smooth yet utterly exasperating. “You don't like white?”

You didn’t even need to look to know it was him. The sudden rush of irritation heated your cheeks as you whipped your head towards the door. And there he was. Park Sunghoon. Strolling in casually, hands tucked into the pockets of his expensive designer coat, as if he hadn’t ruined your entire week.

“Yeah, I don’t,” you shot back, your glare burning through him. The forced smile on your face was saccharine, dripping with the very clear message that he was definitely not welcome.

He raised an eyebrow, unfazed. Of course, he had the audacity to smirk—like always. "Sadly," he drawled, clearly enjoying himself, “you gotta keep them.”

Without invitation, he sauntered over to the side of your bed, his presence filling the room, as if his wealth and arrogance alone could smother the oxygen. You watched him with narrowed eyes, arms crossed over your chest in defiance.

“Just leave me alone, you rich jerk,” you spat, unable to hold back the venom in your tone. Your fists clenched beneath the thin hospital sheets, a reminder that you couldn’t even storm out of here like you wanted to. You were stuck—and it was all because of him.

His face faltered for a split second, the cockiness slipping ever so slightly as your words hit him. But like clockwork, he masked it, that composed, arrogant look sliding back into place.

It should’ve been satisfying to see the momentary flash of guilt cross his features, but it wasn’t enough. Not when your life had been flipped upside down, not when you were confined to this bed because of his mistake.

BUT HOW DID ALL OF THIS HAPPEN?

Well…

FLASHBACK!

Your eyes were stinging from the tears, and you clumsily wiped them away with the back of your hand. You weren’t exactly drunk—maybe two shots deep after an agonizingly stressful day—but it was enough to make your head spin. Why did it all have to be so sad?

Sniffling, you stumbled down the empty street, your shoes scuffing the pavement as you sobbed quietly into the night. The darkness felt overwhelming, like it was swallowing you whole, and even though your tears blurred your vision, you knew where you were heading—or at least you thought you did.

It wasn’t until you heard the loud, abrupt honk of a motorbike that you even realized you were standing in the middle of the street. You barely had time to turn your head towards the blinding lights before—BAM!

The impact wasn’t as hard as it could’ve been, but it was enough. The bike, thankfully, had slowed down, but not nearly enough to stop it from hitting you. Pain shot through your leg as you collapsed onto the cold, hard ground, the breath knocked out of your lungs.

You groaned loudly, clutching your leg, wincing at the sharp sting that radiated through your body. Meanwhile, the rider, who had also fallen, was busy steadying himself, dusting off his helmet as if he wasn’t the reason your entire life had just flashed before your eyes.

“THE HELL?!” you screamed, your voice cracking as you tried to shift your weight but immediately regretted it. The sharp pain in your leg intensified, forcing you back down onto the concrete. You gritted your teeth, tears stinging your eyes once again as you glared up at him.

The guy finally looked your way, lifting his visor to reveal his face. "Ma’am, are you okay?" he asked, his voice eerily calm, as if he hadn’t just crashed his motorcycle into you. Like it was some minor inconvenience to him.

Your blood boiled. “Okay???" you spat out, your voice a mix of disbelief and fury. "I’m literally bleeding! Are you dumb?!”

The guy blinked, clearly taken aback by your outburst, but remained calm. Too calm. “Alright, alright, just calm down,” he muttered, crouching down next to you, but that only made you angrier.

"Calm down?” you snapped, clenching your fists as the pain and the frustration built up inside of you. “Say that when you’re the one lying here, bleeding out!"

He flinched at your words but didn’t reply. Instead, he reached into his pocket, fumbling for his phone to call an ambulance. Meanwhile, you were still seething, glancing down at your leg where the blood was now slowly trickling down your thigh, staining your jeans. The sight of it made you dizzy, your head swimming with pain and exhaustion.

You could barely keep your eyes open, but you still had enough energy to notice him—freaking fixing his bike. He had the nerve to set it upright on its stand, making sure it was okay before coming back to check on you.

"If you even think about making this a hit and run," you rasped, your voice hoarse from both pain and anger, “I’ll haunt your entire family line.”

The guy stopped, visibly gulping as he knelt down beside you once again, clearly panicking now. "No, no, that’s not—look, the ambulance is coming, okay? Just… try to stay with me.”

Your vision blurred, your breath coming in shallow gasps as the world began to tilt. The last thing you remembered before everything went black was him leaning over, actually cleaning the blood off your thigh with his sleeve, his face a mask of panic and guilt. You didn’t know what was worse—the excruciating pain or the fact that you now hated him with every fiber of your being. Park Sunghoon.

And just like that, you passed out, your hatred for him searing into the darkness of your mind as you slipped into unconsciousness.

AND WHAT EXACTLY HAPPENED AFTER THAT?

You may wonder, but well...

Turns out, the guy—Park Sunghoon—was not just any calm, overly collected motorcyclist who’d crashed into you that night. No, he was the son of a wealthy man, one of those who didn’t have to face consequences because money speaks louder than the truth. And apparently, money really does talk, especially when you’re up against a system rigged to work in favor of the rich.

Even though Sunghoon had confessed to being at fault—had told the police it was his mistake—the tests showed otherwise. Your blood test, which revealed traces of alcohol, was enough to tip the scales in his favor. You weren’t even drunk, for heaven's sake—two shots hardly counted—but that didn’t matter. The system had already labeled you as the reckless one. Your claims of innocence? Brushed off, like dust from his expensive jacket.

It was humiliating. The police barely questioned Sunghoon. His parents swooped in like hawks, ensuring their precious son wouldn’t be held accountable for such a trivial incident, and just like that, there was no investigation, no justice. Just a quick sweep under the rug, and you were left to fester in your anger, helpless against the machine that protected people like him.

Being an orphan only made things worse. You had no guardian, no family to back you up or fight for you. Your best friend, Wonyoung, was the only one who came to your side. She tried covering your hospital bills—she had offered, insisted even—but you couldn’t let her. She needed the money more than you did, and you weren’t about to burden her with your mess. But you couldn't deny her when she showed up every day with packed lunches, smuggling in home-cooked meals like they were contraband.

On one particular afternoon, you sat in the hospital bed, poking at the warm rice she had lovingly packed in a small bento box. Wonyoung sat across from you, her eyes burning with the same hatred you felt. She stabbed at her own food, her anger simmering with every bite.

“I still can’t believe him,” she muttered, barely able to contain her frustration. “How does he get to walk away from this like it’s nothing?”

You let out a humorless chuckle, shaking your head as you swallowed a bite of food. “Because he’s rich. Rich guys don’t face consequences, apparently.”

She nodded, her lips pressed into a thin line. “I hate him. I hate him so much.”

You sighed, your gaze falling to your bandaged leg. It throbbed, a constant reminder of everything that had happened. “Join the club,” you muttered. “He hasn’t even tried to take responsibility. Not once.”

Wonyoung scoffed, glancing over at the sterile hospital room, the fluorescent lights casting a harsh glow over everything. “How does he sleep at night? Like, seriously?”

You thought about that too. How did Park Sunghoon sleep at night? Probably on some ridiculously expensive mattress in his mansion, far away from the mess he’d left you in. You clenched your fists around the edge of your blanket, biting back the urge to cry. Not again. You were so tired of crying, of feeling powerless, of being at the mercy of someone else’s mistakes.

AND AS THE DAYS PASSED, the gnawing anxiety of being kicked out of the hospital clung to you like a dark cloud. Let's be honest—you had no money. The minute the hospital caught wind of that, you were sure they’d toss you out on the curb without a second thought. It wasn’t like you had any guardian to bail you out, no family waiting in the wings to cover the mounting costs. You were an orphan—alone, except for your best friend Wonyoung, who had already done more than she needed to.

Sitting up slightly in your bed, you glanced at the nurse as she came in to check your vitals. She seemed nice—too nice—and it was exactly that thread of hope you grasped at as you hesitantly asked, “So... when do I pay the hospital bill?”

You knew the question was pointless, knew the answer would sink like lead in your gut, but you had to ask. Maybe, just maybe, a miracle would happen.

The nurse adjusted the IV drip, giving you a small smile as she jotted something down on her clipboard. “Someone already paid for you.”

Your jaw didn’t drop—not even a little—because let’s be honest, you knew who had covered it. Sunghoon’s parents. Of course they did. Anything to wipe their son’s record clean, to make sure no trace of this incident marred the reputation of their precious heir. Rich people.

“Right.” You muttered, sinking back into the pillows, staring at the plain white ceiling. It was always the same. Pay, forget, move on. No justice, just convenient cover-ups.

The nurse, oblivious to the tension building inside you, walked out of the room. You sighed heavily, closing your eyes, hoping—praying—that it wasn’t Sunghoon or one of his parents waiting for you outside. But your luck? Yeah, it never worked in your favor.

“Enjoying your stay here?” His voice was as smooth as silk, and when you opened your eyes, there he was, Park Sunghoon, standing in the doorway with that charming smile of his. It was the kind of smile that could have melted hearts—not yours, though. Not now, not when he was the reason you were lying here, stuck in this bed, smelling nothing but disinfectant and medicine.

“Yeah, it’s great,” you bit out, rolling your eyes. “A dream vacation. Smell of medicine, broken bones, IV drips—just paradise.”

Sunghoon chuckled softly, like he wasn’t standing in front of you after nearly ruining your life. You could have thrown the flower pot sitting by your bed at him—would have if the nurse hadn’t spoken up at that exact moment.

“She has a fracture in her leg and some soft tissue damage, but with rehabilitation, she should recover in twelve to eighteen weeks,” the nurse said, looking at Sunghoon like he actually cared about your prognosis.

“Alright. I get it,” he muttered, nodding as if he was taking mental notes, and you wondered why. Why was he still here? Why did he even care? He had already done his job, hadn’t he? Paid the bills, covered the mess—so why was he still hanging around?

The nurse excused herself, flashing what you swore was a knowing smile before she left the room. “Okay, then, enjoy your time with your girlfriend,” she said as she slipped out the door.

Girlfriend?! You nearly choked on your own breath. Girlfriend?? Really?! Your eyes shot to Sunghoon, demanding an explanation as you sat up straighter, the hospital blanket clenched in your fists.

“Explain,” you hissed, glaring at him with all the hatred you could muster. Your leg ached with the movement, but you ignored it, your whole body brimming with frustration.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Well... my dad wouldn’t let me get involved after the accident. But I wanted to take responsibility, and the only way I could stay connected to this without the media getting involved was to pretend you were my girlfriend. That way, it looks like I’m just... you know, paying your bills because I care.”

“Because you care?” You scoffed, your voice dripping with venom. “As expected. Rich people like you don’t actually care—you just want to clean up the mess and move on. Get the media off your back. Don’t worry about me though, Sunghoon. Just stay away from me, because if you keep hanging around, I swear, I will go insane.”

You grabbed the flower pot with one hand, aiming it directly at his face. Your knuckles whitened from the grip, the tension boiling over.

“Whoa, whoa!” Sunghoon raised his hands defensively, stepping back with a sheepish smile that only infuriated you more. “Calm down. I’m going, I’m going.”

He slipped out of the room with a smile that seemed too nonchalant, like none of this was serious to him. He disappeared into the hallway, leaving you to stew in your anger.

You let out a long string of curses under your breath, tossing the flower pot back onto the bedside table with a huff. Your head fell back against the pillow, and you closed your eyes, groaning in frustration.

Why did this guy have to be so infuriating? Every time you thought about him, your blood boiled, and now you were stuck in this mess with him as the person supposedly “taking care” of you. What a joke.

You clutched the blanket tighter, trying to shake off the overwhelming mix of emotions—anger, frustration, and the suffocating feeling of helplessness.

THE NEXT DAY?

SUNGHOON WAS BACK AGAIN.

You groaned inwardly, watching him from the corner of your eye as he quietly settled into the chair beside your hospital bed. He didn't speak, just sat there, his eyes glued to you. What the hell was his deal? You were already too tired to deal with the fact that this guy, who had already caused enough trouble in your life, was now making himself a permanent fixture in your hospital room.

“Can you just go away?” you murmured, voice low and raspy, refusing to look at him directly. It was irritating enough that he was here—you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of eye contact.

He shifted in his seat, leaning forward slightly as if he were genuinely invested in whatever non-existent conversation you were about to have. “I just... I just wanted to apologize,” he started, his tone softer than you expected. “Look, I never wanted this to happen. I didn’t mean for you to get hurt, didn’t want you to get this fracture—”

“Don’t bother me with your false apologies,” you cut him off, your voice sharp as your eyes narrowed in on him. There was no way you were going to sit here and let him play the nice guy when he was the reason you were stuck in this bed. As far as you were concerned, his words were as hollow as his concern.

Sunghoon flinched at your dismissal, but his face quickly returned to that neutral, unreadable expression he always wore. Without missing a beat, he pulled out a small, elegant container from his side, opened it up, and began arranging a steaming bowl of ramen. The fragrant aroma hit your nose almost instantly—rich broth, a soft-boiled egg on the side, and a hint of spice. His personal chef’s touch, no doubt. How typical.

“Here.” He pushed the bowl towards you, chopsticks in hand, offering it like it was some grand gesture of peace.

You stared at it, the smell tempting your empty stomach. But hell no were you going to eat anything he gave you. Not after everything. It felt like taking pity food, and you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of thinking he’d done something nice.

“I don’t want to eat this,” you refused coldly, crossing your arms over your chest and turning your head away as if the sight of it disgusted you.

Sunghoon blinked, clearly taken aback by your blunt rejection. The chopsticks hovered mid-air, the ramen dangling precariously off the ends. “Then... what are you gonna eat?” His tone wasn’t mocking, just confused—like he couldn’t fathom why anyone would refuse gourmet ramen made by a personal chef.

You bit back a sigh, feeling the frustration bubbling under your skin. “The hospital food,” you replied flatly, knowing full well you had no intention of eating it. Who in their right mind actually wanted hospital food? But you weren’t going to let him win. Even if it meant enduring that tasteless mush, you would.

“Suit yourself.” He shrugged, completely unfazed, and with the same calm indifference, he took a bite of the ramen himself. Leaning back in his chair, he made himself comfortable, savoring each bite like he had all the time in the world. The room was suddenly filled with the sound of his quiet chewing, and your irritation spiked.

“What the hell?” you muttered, glaring at him as he continued to eat in silence.

He glanced at you, the corner of his lips twitching as if he found this whole situation amusing. “You said you didn’t want it. So, I’m eating it.” His tone was maddeningly casual, as if the fact that you were lying there in a hospital bed while he enjoyed a meal meant absolutely nothing to him.

“I—” You started, but your words stuck in your throat. Was he doing this on purpose? You glared at him, eyes narrowing, your frustration palpable. Without thinking, you grabbed the nearest pillow and hurled it at him with all the strength you could muster.

It hit him square in the chest, the force of it barely making him flinch, but it was enough to get his attention.

“Just eat somewhere else!” you snapped, your voice raising a bit louder than you intended. “Not near me. You’re making me feel nauseous,” you added, feigning an exaggerated gag as you pressed your hand to your stomach, though in truth, your frustration was more mental than physical.

Sunghoon paused, chopsticks halfway to his mouth, his gaze flickering over to you. For a split second, you saw something in his eyes—something like amusement, or maybe even disbelief. But then, just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by his usual blank, indifferent expression.

“Alright, alright,” he muttered, pushing his chair back a few inches as if to placate you. He continued eating though, leaning further back, seemingly unbothered by your outburst.

You watched him in silence, your hands clenching the hospital blanket in frustration. How could someone be so infuriating? Every fiber of your being screamed to tell him off, to shout at him for being so... so... indifferent.

But deep down, you knew you couldn’t push him too far. As much as you hated it, this guy and his filthy rich family were the ones footing your hospital bills. Without them, you’d be in deep trouble, maybe even kicked out by now. You needed to be civil—just civil enough—to keep this uncomfortable arrangement going. But that didn’t mean you had to like it.

As Sunghoon continued eating, you couldn’t stop your mind from wandering. Your job. What the hell were you supposed to tell your workplace? They were going to fire you for taking such a long break, weren’t they? You were already behind on rent, behind on everything. And now, because of him, you were going to lose the only shred of stability you had left.

You glanced at him again, annoyance bubbling up inside you. This was all his fault.

Every second he stayed here, pretending to be remorseful, pretending to care—it only fueled your hatred more.

After finishing up his food, Sunghoon finally stood up from the chair, and for a blissful second, you thought he was about to leave. Peace, at last.

But no. You watched in dismay as he turned toward the door, only to return moments later with another steaming bowl of food—something undoubtedly made by his annoyingly talented personal chef again. Your stomach growled involuntarily at the sight of it, but you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of knowing you wanted it.

Just as you were about to shoot him a glare, the nurse caring for you entered the room, pushing a small tray cart with the dreaded hospital food on it. Great. She offered a brief, polite smile as she placed the tray on your bedside table. The food looked even worse today—if that was even possible—bland and unappetizing, the kind of meal that probably hadn’t seen salt or seasoning in years.

“Here you go, sweetie. Make sure you eat something,” the nurse said warmly before quickly leaving the room, clearly unaware of the ongoing battle of wills between you and Sunghoon.

As soon as the door clicked shut, you looked over at him. He was watching you, his elbow lazily perched on the arm of the chair, his hand supporting his chin. A slow, amused smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. That damn smirk. The one that made you want to throw something at him—if it weren’t for your fractured leg keeping you bedridden.

“Thank you,” you muttered halfheartedly, reluctantly picking up the plastic spoon that came with the hospital food. You took a bite of the mushy, tasteless concoction, and immediately regretted it. It was like eating wet cardboard. You fought hard not to gag, your throat tightening as the flavorless blob slid down.

Sunghoon chuckled quietly from across the room, his eyes never leaving you. “I thought you wanted hospital food?” he teased, leaning forward just a little as if to get a better look at your suffering.

You made a face, a sickened grimace pulling at your lips as soon as the nurse was out of sight. The taste was vile. And worse yet, Sunghoon seemed to be thoroughly enjoying watching you struggle.

“Well?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, his smirk widening. He knew you didn’t want the hospital food. He knew, and that only seemed to make this entire situation even more entertaining for him.

Your pride was the only thing stopping you from throwing the tray out the window and devouring the meal he brought, but your body was betraying you. Your stomach growled again, loud enough for Sunghoon to hear. He chuckled, clearly amused by your stubbornness.

Before you could protest, he moved closer, balancing the bowl of ramen on his knee as he picked up his chopsticks. With an exaggerated nonchalance, he twirled some noodles around the chopsticks and brought them to your lips.

“Here,” he said, voice soft but teasing. “Just try it.”

You stared at the chopsticks hovering in front of you, your resolve weakening. The savory scent of the ramen was intoxicating, and before you knew it, your body betrayed you once again. You leaned forward and took a bite, unable to resist the warm, perfectly seasoned noodles. The difference in taste was almost enough to make you groan in relief.

Sunghoon’s smirk deepened as he watched you chew, his eyes glinting with amusement. “That’s a good girl,” he murmured, the words rolling off his tongue with a teasing lilt.

Your eyes snapped up to meet his, and you glared at him through a mouthful of ramen. “Don’t call me that,” you muttered, voice muffled as you chewed.

“Why not?” He tilted his head slightly, his lips quirking up in playful curiosity. “You don’t like being called a good girl?”

“It’s cringe,” you replied shortly, swallowing the bite. “Just... feed me, dude.”

He raised an eyebrow at the casual “dude” and let out a soft snort of laughter. “Don’t ‘dude’ me,” he shot back, his tone playfully offended. He twirled more noodles around the chopsticks and held them up for you again.

You glared at him but leaned in for another bite, chewing slowly, savoring the flavor. Dammit, the ramen was good. Stupid rich kids and their personal chefs.

“Why can’t you be nice to me for just one second?” he asked, his voice light but with an edge of genuine curiosity.

You scoffed, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “Maybe because you literally got my leg fractured.”

He let out a low sigh, his face softening as he leaned back in the chair, one hand resting lazily on his thigh while the other still held the chopsticks. “That was a mistake.”

“A mistake that cost me my life,” you shot back, your voice laced with bitter sarcasm. You gestured to your leg, propped up awkwardly with a cast. “I can’t work. I’m stuck here. All because of you.”

He winced slightly, but it was brief, his calm expression returning just as quickly. “Yeah, but I’m paying for your bills and feeding you gourmet food. I think that counts for something.”

“Oh, wow. Thanks. I guess I’m supposed to be grateful that you’re throwing your money at the problem you caused,” you said, sarcasm dripping from every word.

He leaned in again, closer this time, his face just inches from yours as he held up the chopsticks with a piece of soft-boiled egg. “You need protein to recover,” he said with mock seriousness, as if that somehow excused everything.

You gave him a long, unimpressed stare but opened your mouth reluctantly, letting him feed you the egg. It was delicious, of course.

Your bickering continued, the tension between you palpable—part frustration, part something you didn’t want to examine too closely. As much as you hated to admit it, there was something almost... comfortable in this strange back-and-forth. Even if he was insufferable. Even if he had ruined your life. There was something about the way he teased you, the way he looked at you with that annoying smirk, that was... unsettling in a way you couldn’t quite describe.

“Next time,” you muttered between bites, “just don’t call me a good girl.”

Sunghoon grinned, eyes glinting with amusement. “We’ll see.”

A WEEK HAD PASSED,

AND SOMEHOW, THIS GUY,

PARK SUNGHOON—

Had become an inescapable shadow in your life. He was always around, lingering like a ghost in the corner of your hospital room, and frankly, it was getting on your nerves. You’d half expected him to get bored and move on, but no, he was persistent. Today was no exception, as he casually strolled in, dressed far too well for someone who supposedly had nothing better to do.

As if the universe wanted to test you even more, you suddenly realized you needed to use the bathroom. Perfect. With a fractured leg and several other annoying injuries, it wasn’t exactly a simple task to just get up and go.

Your eyes flickered over to Sunghoon, who, as usual, was making himself comfortable in the chair beside your bed, scrolling through his phone like he had all the time in the world. How does he not have work? you wondered. But then again, he was rich. He probably was the boss—no one to yell at him for skipping out.

An idea popped into your head, one so devious it made you almost grin. If you were stuck in this hell because of him, then he was going to suffer for it, too.

“I need to use the washroom,” you said, your voice dripping with forced sweetness. You shot him a smile so sugary it could give someone a cavity.

He looked up from his phone, raising a single eyebrow, his expression both confused and slightly suspicious. “And why are you telling me this?” His tone was casual, but you could tell he was wondering what you were up to.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Did he really not get it?

“Well,” you said, shrugging your shoulders nonchalantly, “because you’re going to help me get there.”

Sunghoon’s face twisted into an expression of disbelief, the confusion deepening as he stared at you. His brows furrowed, and he glanced from you to your cast, clearly trying to make sense of the situation. “Can’t you just call the nurse?” he asked, his voice filled with exasperation.

You shrugged again, acting as though the answer was obvious. “The nurse is probably busy with other patients. You’re here, so... help me.”

For a moment, Sunghoon just stared at you, realizing that this was your revenge—your small, petty way of getting back at him. You could see the gears turning in his head as he weighed his options, but ultimately, he sighed, knowing full well this was his fault. He couldn’t say no. Not this time.

He stood up from his chair, slipping his phone into his pocket, and walked over to you. “Fine,” he grumbled under his breath, though there was a subtle trace of amusement in his voice. “Let’s get this over with.”

You smirked, raising your arms toward him in a silent, exaggerated demand for help. He gave you a look—one that said he knew exactly what you were doing—but he bent down anyway, carefully placing his arm around your back to help you sit up.

His movements were surprisingly gentle as he shifted you, mindful of your injuries. For a moment, you almost forgot you were supposed to hate him, but the memory of your fractured leg came rushing back as you awkwardly stood, balancing on your good leg while he held you up.

“You’ve done this before, right?” you teased, leaning a bit more heavily on him than necessary.

He rolled his eyes but didn’t answer, his grip tightening around your waist as he helped you off the bed. “Just don’t fall on me,” he muttered, his voice laced with mild frustration.

You let out a small, fake gasp. “Are you afraid of a little contact, Sunghoon?” you asked, your tone dripping with mock innocence.

His jaw clenched slightly, but he ignored your jab, shifting his weight to better support you as he guided you toward the bathroom. “Gosh, why can’t you just call the nurse like a normal person?” he groaned, sounding far more exasperated now that he was actually having to deal with you.

“Because,” you said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, “this is your fault. You got me into this mess, and now you get to deal with it.”

He sighed again, clearly trying his hardest not to snap back at you. You could practically hear the patience draining out of him as he helped you into the bathroom, your body leaning heavily on his arm as you hobbled on one leg. His other hand hovered near your cast, careful not to jostle it.

Once you were inside the small bathroom, he slowly backed out, giving you space but not before shooting you a deadpan look. “You good?”

You smirked, biting back a laugh. “I’ll let you know when I’m done.”

Sunghoon closed the door behind him with a soft click, but not before calling through the wood, “Just yell when you’re finished, Your Highness.”

Leaning against the bathroom sink, you couldn’t help but smile in satisfaction. Revenge tasted sweet, even if it was petty. You knew Sunghoon didn’t want to be here, playing nurse, but it felt good to trouble him—just a little.

You took your time, prolonging your stay in the bathroom for as long as possible, savoring the knowledge that Sunghoon was waiting outside. Maybe it was childish, but it made you feel a bit better, if only for a moment.

As you lingered in the bathroom, relishing in your small, mischievous victory, Sunghoon's voice rang out from the other side of the door, his tone laced with irritation.

“You done?” he called out, his voice slightly muffled through the door.

You smirked, leaning your head back against the cool tile of the bathroom wall, debating whether to prolong this little game. But fate, it seemed, had other plans for you. In your attempt to stand up properly, your balance wavered. Your injured leg buckled slightly, causing you to slip, creating a loud thud that echoed off the walls.

“Oh God?! Did you break your leg again?” Sunghoon’s voice immediately shifted from annoyance to a surprising edge of concern. You could hear the door handle jiggle as he attempted to open it.

In a panic, you yelled back before he could barge in. “Don’t even try! I haven’t pulled my pants up!” Your voice wobbled between panic and embarrassment, heat rising to your cheeks despite yourself.

There was a brief pause, followed by a mixture of relief and exasperation in his tone. “Seriously?”

You could practically feel his embarrassment from behind the door as he rubbed the back of his neck, caught between wanting to help and this awkward situation. “Then pull them up!” he said, as though that solved everything. The sheer audacity of his tone made your eye twitch.

“Listen, boy,” you snapped, your voice dripping with sarcasm and frustration. “If I could pull them up, don’t you think I’d be able to walk out? I’m literally stuck on the floor. And it’s disgusting down here!”

His groan was audible through the door, no doubt paired with him running a hand over his face in disbelief. “Are you serious right now?” he muttered, more to himself than to you.

The back-and-forth bickering continued for what felt like forever, with you calling out orders and him grumbling on the other side of the door. After what seemed like an eternity, you finally gave up trying to maintain any shred of dignity in this situation.

“Okay, I pulled them up! Now, help me get out of here,” you finally yelled, exhausted from the struggle.

Sunghoon let out a deep, exaggerated sigh of relief, one that almost made you want to smack him if it weren’t for your current predicament. “Phew, finally.” You could practically hear him rolling his eyes.

The door opened, and Sunghoon stepped inside with a mix of irritation and amusement. He bent down to help you, slipping his arm around your waist once more, lifting you up with practiced ease. You let out a small huff as he guided your weight against him, his warm hand steadying you as your body adjusted to standing again.

Without another word, you wobbled toward the sink, more than ready to return to the bed, but you couldn’t just ignore the fact that your hands were still dirty. Sunghoon kept his arm around you as you leaned over the sink to wash your hands, his eyes narrowing as he observed what you were doing.

"You..." he started, trailing off, his eyes slowly widening in horror. “You haven’t washed your hands yet, have you?”

You glanced up at him through the mirror, raising an eyebrow. “Obviously not. I fell, genius,” you muttered, as though this was the most obvious thing in the world.

Sunghoon’s face instantly paled, his eyes darting from his hands to yours, his expression shifting from shock to absolute disgust. He immediately let go of you, stepping back like you’d just told him you had the plague.

“You did NOT just touch me with unwashed hands,” he said, his voice a mix of horror and disgust as he dramatically recoiled. His hand hovered in the air, shaking slightly, before he rushed to the other side of the sink, furiously scrubbing his hands with soap, as though he were trying to rid himself of every possible germ.

Watching him panic was somehow immensely satisfying, a smug grin curling your lips as you watched him suffer in disgust. “Eww, eww, eww!” he muttered to himself as he scrubbed, his face twisted in revulsion.

“Serves you right,” you quipped, leaning back against the wall, watching him frantically rinse his hands as though his life depended on it.

“You’re disgusting,” he shot back, glaring at you through the mirror, but the corner of his mouth twitched as though he were trying hard not to smile.

"Don’t act like I planned to fall, Sunghoon,” you retorted, crossing your arms as you continued to lean on him for support, your smirk never faltering. “But seeing you in pain—this... disgust—I gotta admit, it feels kinda good.”

He shot you a look, half exasperated and half amused, running a hand through his hair. “You’re something else,” he muttered, shaking his head as he helped you back toward the bed.

As much as you wanted to hate him, there was something oddly... endearing about his reaction. The tension between the two of you simmered beneath the surface, a strange mix of frustration, amusement, and something else you refused to acknowledge.

“I know,” you said, smirking as you let him help you lie down on the bed again. “I’m the best kind of trouble.”

Sunghoon scoffed, rolling his eyes, but there was a flicker of something in his gaze—something that made the air between you shift. For a moment, the banter fell silent, replaced by an unspoken tension. You both looked away at the same time, the quiet hum of the hospital room filling the space where your words had been.

It wasn’t hatred, not anymore—not exactly. It was something far more complicated than that.

AGAIN,

The next week went by in a haze of frustration, playful revenge, and shared irritations. What had started as your deep-seated hatred for Sunghoon for causing your fractured leg evolved into something less easy to define. It became a bizarre game of you tormenting him with every small inconvenience, while he reluctantly dealt with the trouble, almost as if he believed he deserved it. You had no idea why he kept coming back, why he hadn't just left you to the hospital staff—yet here he was. Every day. Helping you.

And today? Today, you were bored out of your mind, sick of the sterile walls of your hospital room and the bland hospital gown clinging uncomfortably to your skin. The thought of sitting in that stiff bed for another minute was unbearable. Naturally, you decided Sunghoon should suffer the consequences of your boredom too. After all, he was the reason you were here in the first place.

“Take me out for a walk,” you’d said earlier, putting on your best guilt-trip face. “It’s the weekend, you have time. I’ve been stuck here for days.”

Sunghoon, standing at the foot of your bed with an exasperated sigh, had rubbed his temples as if debating whether to throw you into the wheelchair himself or just walk out. But he didn't. With a reluctant grunt and a muttered “Fine, whatever,” he agreed, grabbing the wheelchair from the corner and helping you into it.

Now, as he pushed you down the hospital hallway, your eyes gleamed with mischief. Your fractured leg was propped up awkwardly, wrapped in thick layers of bandages, and your body was still healing, but you were reveling in making him work for it.

"The garden!" you demanded, pointing outside through the glass doors like a queen giving orders to her servant.

Sunghoon, visibly tired from both the physical effort and the mental strain of dealing with you, gave a long-suffering sigh. “You enjoy this,” he muttered, his voice barely hiding the annoyance beneath. It wasn’t a question. He knew you were having way too much fun making his life difficult.

You didn’t answer him. Instead, you leaned back in the wheelchair with a smug grin, watching the trees and flowers of the hospital garden come into view. The warm sunlight kissed your skin, a far cry from the cold hospital walls. This, oddly enough, felt freeing. And it was even better knowing Sunghoon was stuck with you through it. He owed you, after all.

As you rolled along the garden’s paths, you caught sight of something from the corner of your eye—flashes. The unmistakable click of cameras. Paparazzi.

Your smile widened. You remembered the lies Sunghoon had told the nurse—how he had casually, with that infuriating confidence, claimed you were his girlfriend to save face. He was wealthy, privileged, and undoubtedly terrified of the media catching wind of the real story—that he was the one who crashed into you and got you in this mess.

A WICKED IDEA BLOOMED IN YOUR MIND.

Without warning, you let out a loud, exaggerated sob, your shoulders shaking dramatically as you hid your face in your hands. The sound echoed across the garden, loud enough that even the photographers several feet away perked up, their lenses immediately focusing on you.

Sunghoon immediately froze, halting the wheelchair in confusion. “What are you doing?” he asked, his brow furrowing as he moved to your side, kneeling down beside you. His eyes darted around, realizing the attention you were drawing.

But you didn’t stop. You cried even louder, your voice cracking as you spoke, “It’s because of you! You ruined me! You ruined my life!” Your words were over the top, a dramatic sob story for the cameras.

Sunghoon’s eyes went wide with panic, his expression a mix of horror and disbelief as the realization hit him like a ton of bricks. He glanced over at the paparazzi, whose cameras were now flashing like crazy, capturing every tear, every quiver of your voice. “You’re kidding, right?” His voice was low, trying to keep his cool but clearly rattled.

You shot him a look through tear-filled eyes that could have won you an Oscar for Best Actress. “I can’t believe you did this to me,” you sobbed again, clutching your leg for dramatic effect. “All because you weren’t paying attention!”

He leaned in closer, his voice barely above a whisper as he desperately tried to contain the situation. “Please, don’t do this,” he pleaded, his eyes darting nervously between you and the flashing cameras.

But you weren’t done. Oh no. You were just getting started. “I should’ve never trusted you!” you wailed, loud enough for the photographers to pick up every word.

Sunghoon’s jaw clenched, panic flooding his features as the paparazzi moved closer, their cameras capturing every second of your breakdown. He looked desperate, and it was almost... satisfying. Watching him squirm under the weight of his own lies felt like sweet revenge.

You were just about to spill the whole truth—about how he’d been the one to hit you with his motorbike, how he’d been pretending you were his girlfriend to save his reputation—when Sunghoon, clearly sensing what you were about to do, suddenly placed his hand firmly over your mouth, silencing you in an instant.

Your eyes widened in shock as his palm pressed against your lips. Without saying a word, he grabbed the wheelchair handles with his other hand and started pushing you back toward the hospital entrance, ignoring the flurry of camera flashes now going wild as the paparazzi captured the scene.

You muffled against his hand, glaring at him furiously as he practically ran down the hospital pathway, steering you out of sight from the media frenzy.

He didn’t stop until you were back inside the hospital, away from prying eyes. When he finally removed his hand from your mouth, you gasped, shooting him a withering glare.

“What the hell, Sunghoon?!” you yelled, still breathless from the intensity of it all.

He turned to face you, his expression a mixture of frustration and something you couldn’t quite place. “What the hell? Are you insane?! You were going to ruin me out there!”

“I should ruin you!” you shot back, crossing your arms as best as you could in the wheelchair. “You deserve it!”

His face softened for just a split second, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his eyes. “Yeah, maybe I do,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “But don’t think for a second I’m going to let you drag me down that easily.”

You stared at him, caught off guard by the sudden tension between you—something beyond the irritation, beyond the bickering. Something you weren’t quite ready to acknowledge.

He turned away, gripping the wheelchair handles once more as he moved you back toward your room in silence. And as much as you hated him, you couldn’t help but feel something else too.

As Sunghoon pushed your wheelchair back into the hospital, you couldn’t help but notice the other patients scattered throughout the halls. Most were older, their faces worn with the kind of wisdom you only get from enduring the passage of time. You saw them glance your way, eyes lighting up with admiration, clearly assuming that you and Sunghoon were some kind of tragic but loving couple, destined to overcome hardship together.

Ha. As if.

There wasn’t a drop of love here. The very thought made you internally cringe. If only they knew the truth—that Sunghoon was the reason you were in this wheelchair in the first place. That this whole ‘boyfriend-girlfriend’ facade was just a cover-up for his recklessness. But, no. To them, he was probably some knight in shining armor, dutifully pushing his beloved around the hospital.

You caught a glimpse of an elderly woman giving you a soft smile, and you had to suppress the urge to roll your eyes. This wasn’t a fairytale romance—it was a mess. A tangled, ridiculous mess.

Sunghoon finally maneuvered you back into your hospital room, the wheels of the chair squeaking as he parked it beside your bed. He bent down, his fingers curling around the handles of the wheelchair as if ready to help you out. For a brief second, you could see the faint lines of stress etched into his face, the way his jaw was clenched just a little too tightly.

Before he could do anything, though, his phone buzzed. He glanced down at the screen, eyebrows knitting together in a frown. He hesitated, clearly debating whether or not to answer, but eventually muttered, “I’ll just take this real quick.”

He stepped away, answering the call with a curt, “Yeah?” His voice was low, tense. As the conversation unfolded, you heard snippets of his replies: “I know better,” and “I’m an adult,” followed by a string of sighs. You couldn’t hear the other person on the line, but you could guess. It was probably one of his parents, likely lecturing him for spending so much time around you. After all, why would the rich, polished Sunghoon waste his precious time with some girl he’d accidentally injured?

But the truth was, Sunghoon couldn’t just up and leave you. Oh no. The media was already onto you both, snapping pictures every time you were in public together. If he suddenly disappeared now, they’d think he was the kind of guy who bailed on his girlfriend just because she got injured. His reputation would plummet faster than you’d hit the ground earlier.

Still, was it the truth? That Sunghoon didn’t want to be around you?

The reality was more complicated. You couldn’t even imagine calling him a friend, let alone anything more. This was a weird, temporary arrangement—nothing else.

“I’ll be back,” Sunghoon muttered under his breath, still distracted by his phone. Without a second glance in your direction, he hurried out of the room, his footsteps echoing down the hallway as he disappeared.

Wait. What?

You blinked, staring at the empty space where he had been just moments ago. Did he seriously just walk out without helping you get back into bed? Your mouth fell open in disbelief.

“Are you kidding me?” you whispered to the empty room.

You waited, expecting him to come back any minute now, to walk in with that same frustrated expression and a sarcastic apology on his lips. Five minutes passed. Then ten. Fifteen. Nothing.

An entire hour dragged by, and still—no Sunghoon. The nurse was nowhere to be found either, probably off on her rounds, leaving you completely and utterly alone.

The frustration boiled inside you. There was no way you were going to stay trapped in this wheelchair any longer. It wasn’t comfortable, and the bed—despite being stiff and unwelcoming—looked like heaven compared to the cold seat you were stuck in.

Taking a deep breath, you decided to do it yourself.

Carefully, you placed your hands on the armrests, trying to hoist yourself up. Your fractured leg protested immediately, the dull ache turning into a sharp pain, but you ignored it. You couldn’t afford to fall, not now. You just had to get onto the bed.

One step. Then another.

You winced as your good leg took the brunt of your weight, wobbling unsteadily. It was like trying to walk a tightrope while holding a stack of plates. Your body swayed, arms trembling as you gripped the bed frame for support. Almost there. You could feel the edge of the mattress pressing against your fingertips.

And then—your foot slipped.

With a sickening thud, you fell face-first into the mattress, your body collapsing awkwardly against the bed frame. Pain shot through your leg as you let out a sharp gasp.

“Damn it!” you cursed under your breath, your voice muffled by the bedspread. “Sunghoon, this is all your fault!”

You lay there for a moment, too stunned and too furious to move. How could he just leave you like that? The idiot was probably off taking some important call while you were stuck in this miserable situation. Your hatred for him simmered again, bubbling to the surface like boiling water ready to spill over.

With a groan, you tried to push yourself up, your muscles straining as you fought to get into a proper position on the bed. Your face burned with embarrassment and anger. All you could think about was how Sunghoon was going to get an earful when—if—he ever came back.

But, despite the frustration, there was something else gnawing at the edges of your thoughts. Something you didn’t want to acknowledge. Something about the way his expression had softened just before he left, like he wasn’t entirely indifferent to you. Like there was something there, beneath all the sarcastic quips and exasperated sighs.

No. You shook your head, refusing to entertain the idea. This wasn’t some cliché hospital romance where the guy who ruined your life suddenly became your savior. Sunghoon wasn’t some misunderstood prince charming. He was just... Sunghoon. Annoying, frustrating, and absolutely the last person you wanted to deal with.

Still, as you lay there, face buried in the hospital bed, you couldn’t help but feel that gnawing frustration twisting into something else. Something far more complicated.

THE NEXT DAY PASSED IN A HAZE.

And the day after that.

And another day.

Each one crawled by, dragging itself through hours that felt like days. But Sunghoon didn’t return. Not a text, not a call, not even a shadow of his presence outside your hospital room. You didn’t want to admit it, but his absence gnawed at you. Was he sick? Had something happened? Why the hell were you even wondering about it?

You shouldn’t care.

You didn’t care.

In fact, you should be overjoyed if he had caught some miserable flu. Or—better yet—if he had gotten into trouble of his own for once. You’d be happy. Relieved, even.

Right?

Except, you weren’t. Something unsettling tugged at the back of your mind. Maybe it was guilt, maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t said a word before disappearing. But the more you tried to push the thought away, the more it latched onto you.

And then the door to your hospital room creaked open, a slow twist of the knob announcing a presence you hadn’t expected.

In walked a woman.

Her aura screamed wealth, a kind of quiet, effortless opulence that you recognized instantly—the tailored coat, the way her silk scarf draped perfectly over her shoulders, and most notably, her glasses. You had never seen anyone wear glasses that looked like they cost more than your entire hospital stay.

She didn’t spare you much of a glance at first, too busy taking off her glasses with a dismissive flick of her wrist. But as soon as her eyes met yours, you felt the air shift. Her gaze was sharp, calculating, and instantly made you sit up straighter in bed, pressing your back against the headboard.

Was this Sunghoon’s mother?

The question popped into your mind, but the answer came without you having to ask. Her next words confirmed everything.

“So, you’re that girl,” she said, her voice clipped as her eyes flickered over you. It wasn’t even a question, more of a statement. You were that girl—the one her son had dragged into this mess. You shifted uncomfortably under her gaze, but somehow managed to muster some sarcasm.

“Yeah, the girl your son fractured the leg of,” you shot back, the words leaving your mouth with a little too much venom. But, realizing this was probably not the time for jokes, you cleared your throat.

The woman didn’t look amused. Instead, she merely hummed, clearly not interested in exchanging pleasantries.

“I’m here to talk,” she said flatly, ignoring your tone entirely. Her eyes, sharp as ever, stayed fixed on you, not even bothering with an introduction. You could hear some faint commotion outside the room, likely the nurses eavesdropping, curious about the sudden appearance of such an elegant woman.

“Okay…” you replied, scratching the back of your neck nervously, your mind already racing. What could she possibly want?

Without a hint of hesitation, Sunghoon’s mother stepped closer to your bed, pulling something out of her bag—a cheque. She laid it on your blanket-covered lap with a kind of quiet authority that made it clear this wasn’t a negotiation.

“Take this,” she said, her voice calm but firm. “And leave my son.”

You blinked, staring at the cheque in disbelief. Was this really happening? It felt like a scene ripped straight out of a cheesy drama. Your mouth opened to respond, but before you could, she continued, her tone icy and business-like.

“If the media says anything, tell them the two of you broke up because of something you did.”

The words hit you like a slap. So this was it, huh? A payoff. A quick exit plan for the inconvenience you had become. Without thinking, you picked up the cheque. Shamelessly, even. You weren’t going to pretend like you weren’t curious. Your eyes widened slightly as you glanced at the amount.

It was a lot.

Enough to cover an expensive surgery. Heck, enough to completely change your life—your face, your identity. Maybe even start fresh. Your heart raced for a moment, but then a sneaky idea popped into your head. Maybe you could push this a little further.

“I can’t take this,” you muttered, putting on your best ‘reluctant’ act. You hoped it came off as genuine, like you were too noble to accept a bribe. You glanced up at her from under your lashes, waiting to see her reaction.

For a split second, her eyes narrowed, and then—without a word—she reached into her bag again, pulling out another cheque. This one was double the amount of the first.

Your internal grin nearly split your face in two.

“I’ll take it,” you replied immediately, the words leaving your mouth faster than you could process them. You grabbed the second cheque, abandoning any pretense of hesitation. This was too good to pass up. Who cared about Sunghoon? You weren’t even his girlfriend. You didn’t owe him anything, and this was way too much money to let go.

Sunghoon’s mother arched a brow, a small smirk curling at the corner of her lips. “You’re smart,” she said, her voice dripping with a patronizing kind of approval. Before you could even react, she patted your head like you were some kind of obedient puppy. The gesture made your skin crawl, but you forced yourself to stay still, biting back the urge to snap at her.

With that, she turned and strode out of the room, her heels clicking against the tiled floor in a rhythm that oozed confidence and control. You watched her leave, the door closing with a soft click behind her.

For a moment, the room was silent, save for the distant chatter outside the door. You glanced down at the cheques in your hands, the weight of them sinking in.

You couldn’t help but laugh under your breath. This was it. After years of living in that godforsaken orphanage, of scraping by, of enduring the endless bullying—you were finally getting a break.

Who knew a fractured leg could be this profitable? If this was what came from one little accident, maybe getting hit again wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

At least you knew one thing for sure: money beats boys. Every time.

YOU EXPECTED TO NEVER SEE SUNGHOON EVER AGAIN. In fact, you had made peace with it—or, at least, you thought you had. But that didn’t stop the daily ritual that had developed between you, Wonyoung, and Hanni.

They sat on either side of your hospital bed, a swirl of indignation and venom, bitching relentlessly about the guy who had caused all of this—Sunghoon.

At least you had your friends. They were here, taking time out of their lives to be by your side, and if that wasn’t love, you didn’t know what was. Wonyoung sat perched on the edge of the hospital bed, her legs crossed with effortless grace, while Hanni lounged at the foot of your bed, absently stroking your hair like you were a cat. They had barely paused for breath since they’d walked into the room, diving headfirst into their favorite topic: how much they despised Sunghoon.

"I mean, the guy just fractures your leg and disappears without so much as a note?" Wonyoung scoffed, her voice dripping with disbelief as she flung her arms in the air like she wanted to strangle him. She shot you a look that said how could you have possibly put up with this idiot?

“And let’s not forget,” Hanni added, leaning forward conspiratorially as if Sunghoon might somehow hear them through the walls, “he’s probably just out there living his little rich boy life while you’re stuck in here, waiting for your leg to heal.”

She shook her head in disgust, fingers still lightly grazing your scalp. “Rich bastards are always like this,” she muttered under her breath, giving you a soft pat like she was reassuring you that you weren’t alone in your suffering.

You could feel a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips, watching the two of them fuel each other’s fire. Neither of them had actually met Sunghoon, but they hated him with the burning passion of a thousand suns, and honestly, it was kind of hilarious to watch.

“I know, right? Like, how dare he?” Wonyoung continued, practically vibrating with indignation. “Does he think just because he’s rich and pretty, he can just act like that and not have any consequences?”

Her eyes narrowed, lips pulling into a thin line, as she mimicked slapping someone in the air. “If I ever see him, I swear to god I’m going to knock some sense into that stupid, spoiled—”

“Oh, please,” Hanni interrupted with a snort. “If you ever saw him, you'd probably get distracted by how disgustingly handsome he is and forget all about punching him.”

Wonyoung blinked at her, feigning innocence. “Me? Never. I’m immune to pretty boys.”

“Sure.” Hanni teased, rolling her eyes. “Tell that to your last crush.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at their bickering, the sound surprising you. It was strange how comforting their presence was, even though all they seemed to do was rip into Sunghoon. Not that you minded, of course. They were right—he deserved it. Completely.

…Right?

You listened as they went back and forth, each taking turns trashing him for his ghosting act. The more they bitched, the more venomous their words became, but somewhere deep down, you couldn’t help but feel a small, annoying tug of… something else.

Sure, you hated Sunghoon. You absolutely detested him. He had caused this whole mess, fractured your leg, and then vanished into thin air without so much as a “Sorry, hope you’re doing okay.” The guy didn’t even have the decency to send flowers. Who does that?

But… still. A part of you—a very, very tiny part—missed him. Even though he was infuriating. Even though he’d probably caused you more stress than anyone else in your life. You couldn’t shake the strange pang of absence, the way the hospital room felt oddly emptier without him awkwardly hovering around like your personal nurse. Maybe it was the fact that, for a few fleeting moments, you’d been able to annoy the hell out of him and enjoy watching him fumble over basic hospital tasks. There was a twisted kind of satisfaction in making a guy like him—a spoiled, oblivious rich boy—take care of you.

But more than that, you missed having someone to direct your frustration at. As much as you enjoyed watching Wonyoung and Hanni tear him to shreds on your behalf, it wasn’t quite the same.

“Seriously, though,” Hanni said, dragging you out of your thoughts, “I bet he’s out at some fancy restaurant right now, eating caviar or whatever rich people eat, without a single thought about you.”

Wonyoung huffed, leaning back on her elbows. “Probably. You know, I bet he’s never even eaten instant ramen. Can you imagine?”

You snorted. “Yeah, because the moment he tastes anything less than five-star cuisine, his delicate palate might collapse.”

Wonyoung laughed, but then her expression grew more serious. “It’s just messed up, though. He leaves you here to rot, and for what? Did he even like you?”

You shrugged, trying to keep your tone light. “Who knows? I think I was just a… distraction for him.”

“That’s even worse,” Hanni said, crossing her arms. “Honestly, you should’ve asked for more when his mom came by with that cheque. They owe you a hell of a lot more than just money after all this.”

Wonyoung’s eyes widened. “Wait, his mom came here? And gave you money?”

“Oh, right. I forgot to mention that part,” you said, suppressing a grin as you leaned back against your pillow. “Yeah, his mom basically bribed me to stay away from him. Two cheques, actually.”

Hanni’s jaw dropped. “You’re kidding.”

“Wish I was,” you replied, the grin breaking free. “Apparently, I was such a nuisance that she wanted to pay me off to disappear from Sunghoon’s life for good.”

Wonyoung let out a low whistle. “Damn. You should’ve held out for a third cheque.”

“Honestly,” Hanni added, shaking her head in disbelief. “Rich people are something else.”

You laughed, a bit more genuinely this time, as they continued to bitch about Sunghoon and his high-society family. But despite the humor and the camaraderie, there was still that nagging feeling. That tiny, irritating itch in the back of your mind.

You didn’t miss him—not exactly. But maybe, just maybe, you missed the chaos that came with him. And, unfortunately, chaos had a way of finding its way back.

You just didn’t know it yet.

“Woah, I didn’t expect you to bad bitch about me the second I disappear,” came a familiar voice from the doorway, smooth and dripping with sarcasm. You didn’t even have to turn your head to know who it was. The all-too-familiar dramatic hurt expression was already imprinted in your mind—the same one Sunghoon wore whenever he wanted to be the center of attention, which was, frankly, all the time.

You snapped your head in his direction, and there he was—leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed as if he hadn't just walked in unannounced, with that smug smirk plastered on his ridiculously perfect face. His brows were raised in mock disbelief, his lips twisted into an amused pout, as if he'd caught you red-handed in the act of a crime. How dare you talk about me when I’m not here? his expression screamed. But it wasn’t just that. No. Sunghoon looked… annoyingly good.

The worst part? He knew it.

Hanni and Wonyoung, who had been enthusiastically leading the charge in your anti-Sunghoon crusade just moments ago, froze mid-rant, their jaws practically hitting the floor. The air thickened with awkward tension, the kind that made your stomach do a weird flip. You glanced at your friends, fully expecting them to keep up the bitching. Surely, they wouldn’t back down now—not after all the trash-talking they’d just unleashed on his name, right? But when you turned to look at them, all you saw were wide eyes and flushed cheeks.

Wait a minute. Were they… shy?

Hanni was the first to break. Her voice, usually sharp and unfiltered, faltered as she stared at Sunghoon like he had descended from the heavens. “Were we talking about him?” she whispered under her breath, as if you hadn’t just spent the last ten minutes cursing his existence. She blinked, clearly taken aback by his presence. So handsome, so— you could practically hear her thoughts scrambling for coherence.

Wonyoung, on the other hand, was shamelessly gawking. Gone was the fire-breathing dragon ready to rip Sunghoon to shreds. Instead, she was wide-eyed, as if she’d never seen a human so beautiful in her life. “Uh…” She trailed off, her brain short-circuiting under his gaze. So much for being immune to pretty boys.

You huffed, rolling your eyes at their sudden change of demeanor. Traitors.

Before you could say anything, Sunghoon took a leisurely step into the room, his presence practically swallowing the space whole. “Your mom told me to stay away from you,” you muttered under your breath, glaring at him in the hopes that it would somehow send him running for the hills. As if mentioning his mother would magically undo his annoying existence. “And by the way,” you added, “I’m not giving that money back. No way.”

Sunghoon’s smirk only widened, the infuriating bastard. “Well, yeah,” he said nonchalantly, as if discussing the weather, “she told you to stay away from me, but I’m still allowed to stay close to you. You’re not the one initiating this.” He shrugged, as if his logic was sound and you were the one being difficult.

You stared at him, dumbfounded. What? You actually had to tilt your head back to process that nonsense. Was he serious? You blinked, glanced up at the ceiling as if the answer to his ridiculous statement might be written up there, and then back at him.

He wasn’t joking.

You were about to retort—about to remind him just how absurd that sounded—when you glanced at your two supposed best friends, expecting them to jump in and tear him a new one. But instead, they were still sitting there, suddenly very preoccupied with… being shy? Their gazes darted anywhere but at Sunghoon, as if he was some untouchable, otherworldly figure they couldn’t dare criticize anymore.

You scoffed under your breath. Unbelievable.

“Well…” You tried to gather your thoughts, but before you could finish, Hanni shifted beside you—by accident, of course—and her elbow brushed against your injured leg. Pain shot through your body, and you winced, sucking in a sharp breath. “Ow!”

Immediately, Sunghoon was at your side, crossing the room in a flash, his expression now serious as he kneeled beside you, his hands hovering over your injured leg. “Are you okay? Let me see.”

Your instinct was to push him away—to tell him to back off and leave you alone. The last thing you needed was him fussing over you like he actually cared. But you were injured, and Sunghoon had the upper hand—literally. His fingers gently pressed against your leg, checking to see if you were in pain, and despite your best efforts, you couldn’t stop him. You tried to shove him off, but he was stronger, and your body wasn’t exactly in fighting shape.

“Stop—” you muttered, but your voice was weak. And, truthfully, despite how much you hated him, you let him check because… well, he was good at it. Annoyingly good.

Hanni, meanwhile, had the audacity to mutter under her breath, “Should’ve brought popcorn. This is hella interesting.” She shot you a guilty look, clearly aware that she’d caused the whole thing by bumping into your leg, but that didn’t stop her from thoroughly enjoying the drama unfolding right before her eyes.

Wonyoung, who had somehow recovered from her stunned silence, leaned back and muttered, “Right.” She was watching the whole scene play out like she was stuck in the middle of some romantic comedy, her eyes darting between you and Sunghoon like she was waiting for the inevitable kiss scene.

“Weren’t you two on the #hatehim team?” you hissed, glaring at both of them as Sunghoon finally pulled back, satisfied that your leg wasn’t worse off than before.

Wonyoung blinked innocently, already gathering her things. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah,” Hanni added with a shrug, standing up and brushing imaginary dust off her jeans. “We’re just, uh… neutral parties.”

Before you could even comprehend what was happening, they both stood, gathered their bags, and exchanged quick looks like they had just silently agreed on something. In unison, they made their way to the door, Wonyoung gesturing for Hanni to follow her like they were in some secret mission.

“Wait—are you leaving?!” you called after them, your voice laced with disbelief.

Hanni flashed you an apologetic smile, but her feet didn’t stop moving. “We’ll see you later! Good luck!”

With that, the two of them excused themselves, slipping out of the room like nothing had happened, leaving you alone with Sunghoon. You blinked after them, incredulous. They had changed their minds way too fast. How the hell did that even happen? Just ten minutes ago, they had been ripping Sunghoon apart, and now? Now they were acting like he was some kind of romantic hero who had fallen from the stars to sweep you off your feet.

You sighed, sinking back against your pillow.

But even as you stared at the door, trying to figure out how your two best friends had suddenly betrayed you, the nagging worry crept back into your mind. The cheques. You couldn’t help but glance at Sunghoon out of the corner of your eye, wondering if he would tell his mom about this little reunion. You would kill him if the money got taken back.

And just like that, Sunghoon was once again at the center of your frustrations—always, always causing trouble.

THE FACT THAT THE SUNGHOON — the only son of Park Corporation—had re-entered your life wasn’t exactly a secret, nor did it stay hidden from the one person who mattered most: his mother. There was no way she’d let this slide. And just as you predicted, not long after Sunghoon's unexpected return, his mother showed up at your hospital room door once again, this time with backup.

And by backup, you meant Sunghoon's older cousin brother, Jay. A man whose only crime, as far as you could tell, was being related to the Park family. If Sunghoon was infuriating, Jay seemed like he’d rather be anywhere else but here. His discomfort radiated off him like a bad cologne—too strong, and kind of pitiful. His eyes darted nervously around the room, like he was scared to make eye contact with you. Honestly, you weren’t even sure if he knew why he was there.

Mrs. Park nudged him sharply, her manicured nails digging into his arm. “Tell her,” she hissed, clearly fed up with his lack of initiative.

Jay, however, looked more like he was preparing for a high school speech than an intimidating favor-demanding confrontation. He rubbed the back of his neck, looked down at his palm, probably reciting some mental script he had prepared on the way here, and cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Uh… so…”

You raised an eyebrow. Was this really happening? The Park Corporation sent this guy? This was their best shot at trying to intimidate you? First, Sunghoon barges into your life like a hurricane, and now his cousin shows up, looking like he’s one deep breath away from fainting. Honestly, you felt bad for Mrs. Park. How did she expect these two to run a massive conglomerate? You stifled a laugh, pity almost bubbling up in your chest.

Before Jay could stumble through another word, though, the door burst open, and in walked the person you least wanted to see. Of course. Of course Sunghoon had perfect timing. He always seemed to show up when things were about to get interesting, like some messed-up alarm system that detected whenever you were about to make some extra cash off his family’s dramatics. You barely blinked before he was standing there, arms crossed, leaning against the doorframe as if he hadn’t just barged in.

“Jay,” Sunghoon muttered, his tone heavy with disappointment, “You too?”

Jay immediately straightened up, as if trying to salvage what little pride he had left. “Your mom asked me to. Trust me, I didn’t want to do this.” He stepped back, throwing his hands up as though he were surrendering to the inevitable.

Sunghoon’s mother, however, had zero patience for this nonsense. She let out a dramatic sigh, pressing a hand to her temple as if dealing with two grown men acting like toddlers was giving her a migraine. “What else could I do when my son is wasting his time on this?” She waved a hand in your direction, as though you were an unpleasant distraction from Sunghoon’s otherwise charmed life. Her voice dripped with irritation, as though you were personally responsible for ruining her perfectly laid plans.

You paused mid-bite, glancing at her with an amused smirk. She had brought her son’s cousin to what? Scare you? Threaten you into backing off? You leaned back against the pillows on your hospital bed, casually spearing another piece of the expensive meal Sunghoon had brought you earlier. A luxurious spread, by the way. How thoughtful. You chewed slowly, savoring both the food and the unfolding chaos in front of you. It was like watching a soap opera, but better, because it was real. And because you were the center of it.

Sunghoon ran a hand through his hair, visibly annoyed by his mother’s theatrics. “This again? Seriously, Mom?” His gaze flickered toward Jay, who was doing his best to blend into the wallpaper. “You got Jay involved in this?”

“He didn’t have a choice,” Mrs. Park snapped, crossing her arms over her chest. She stood in the middle of the room, clearly expecting to command the entire situation with her presence alone. “I can’t just stand by while you throw away your future on—” She glanced at you with disdain, the kind only a Park could muster. “This girl.”

You snorted, taking another bite of food. “This girl is sitting right here, you know.”

Sunghoon’s eyes flicked to you, briefly softening in what might have been sympathy—or maybe annoyance. Hard to tell. Either way, he turned back to his mother, exasperation bleeding into his voice. “I’m not ‘throwing away’ anything. You’re making a big deal out of nothing.”

His mother wasn’t having it. “You’ve been running around for days, ignoring your responsibilities for this… this situation!” She gestured dramatically toward you as if you were some scandalous tabloid headline.

You set down your fork and raised an eyebrow. “It’s cute that you think you can still control him.”

Sunghoon gave you a look that screamed you’re not helping.

Mrs. Park glared at her son, then at you, her lips pressing into a thin line. “This isn’t about control,” she said icily, her voice sharp enough to cut glass. “It’s about ensuring you don’t ruin your life over some impulsive decision.”

Jay, meanwhile, looked like he wanted to melt into the floor. He kept glancing between the three of you, clearly regretting every single decision that led him here. He took a step back, slowly edging toward the door, clearly hoping no one would notice him escaping.

“Oh, no you don’t,” you said, your voice teasing but firm, “You’re part of this mess now, Jay.”

His eyes widened in mild panic. “I—I don’t—”

But before he could defend himself, Sunghoon’s mother cut in, “Jay, tell her.” She prodded him again, practically pushing him into the spotlight.

Jay rubbed the back of his neck, eyes darting around the room like he was looking for an exit. “Uh, look, I… I don’t really want to do this, but…” He paused, throwing an apologetic look your way, “Can you just… maybe think about backing off? Just… consider it? For me?” His voice was pleading, clearly not cut out for this whole intimidation thing.

Sunghoon groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose as if this entire situation was giving him a migraine. “This is ridiculous.”

“Is it?” His mother snapped. “You’re wasting your time. There are other priorities for someone in your position.”

Sunghoon’s patience was clearly wearing thin, his jaw tightening as he responded. “You keep saying that. But you’re not listening to me.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, low and quiet, as you continued to enjoy the spectacle. The three of them—Sunghoon, his mom, and Jay—bickering like some dysfunctional family sitcom, while you sat back, fully immersed in your gourmet meal.

“This is better than TV,” you muttered to yourself, watching as they tried to one-up each other.

Mrs. Park shot you a death glare, but you just smiled back innocently, because really, what was she going to do? Take your meal away?

Sunghoon’s gaze flicked toward you again, and for a moment, there was a hint of something softer in his expression. Frustration, maybe. Or something that bordered on concern. He opened his mouth to say something, but Jay, finally finding his courage, jumped in again.

“You know,” Jay said, sounding more desperate than threatening, “this would all be easier if we just… moved on. You know?”

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, looking unimpressed. “Easier for who?”

Jay hesitated, clearly realizing he was in over his head. His shoulders slumped, clearly realizing that he wasn’t getting out of this alive—figuratively, at least. His eyes darted back and forth between you and Sunghoon, probably weighing whether it was safer to keep talking or to just bolt. He ended up choosing the safer route: silence.

Sunghoon, on the other hand, was far from done. His gaze sharpened as he turned toward his mother, who was glaring at him with the ferocity only a woman scorned by her own son could muster.

“I’m serious, Mom,” Sunghoon said, voice tense but controlled. “You can’t keep barging into my life like this. It’s not going to work.”

Mrs. Park scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. “I barged into your life? Are you kidding me, Sunghoon? You’re the one who keeps throwing everything away for… for her,” she spat, pointing an accusing finger in your direction.

You almost choked on your food but managed to swallow it down, raising your hands in mock surrender. “Whoa, hey. Don’t drag me into this. I’m just eating.”

Sunghoon’s gaze flicked back to you for a moment, his expression softening. It was brief, but there was something almost apologetic in his eyes before he looked back at his mother.

“Whatever you think is going on here, it’s not what you think,” Sunghoon said, his voice taut with frustration. “I’m not ‘throwing anything away.’”

Mrs. Park’s jaw tightened, her nostrils flaring as she crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re wasting your time, Sunghoon. You should be focusing on the company, your future, not this… whatever this is.”

She waved a dismissive hand in your direction, and you couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. You weren’t exactly a fan of being treated like some pesky side project Sunghoon needed to get rid of, but the whole situation was too ridiculous to take seriously.

“So, what,” you said, leaning back in your bed, eyes flicking between the three of them, “You’re all here to—what? Threaten me? Make me back off? Because I gotta be honest, this isn’t working.” You gestured toward Jay, who looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole, and Mrs. Park, who was glaring daggers at you.

Sunghoon’s mother took a step forward, her eyes narrowing dangerously. “I’m not here to play games with you, girl. I’m here to ensure my son’s future. You’re nothing but a distraction.”

“Ouch,” you muttered, feigning hurt. “You really know how to make someone feel special.”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes, running a hand through his hair, clearly exasperated with the whole ordeal. “Mom, you’re not helping. Just… stop, okay?”

“Helping?” Mrs. Park echoed incredulously, as though the very idea was laughable. “You think I’m not helping by trying to save your future from her?”

You were starting to get a little irritated, even if the whole situation was more laughable than threatening. “Look, I don’t know what fantasy land you’re living in, but Sunghoon is the one who came to me. Not the other way around. If you’re so worried about his future, maybe start with him.”

Sunghoon gave you a look that said please stop fanning the flames, but you were past caring at this point. You’d had enough of this woman coming into your life and treating you like you were some common gold-digger. She didn’t know the half of it.

His mother, however, seemed immune to reason. She shot her son a glare. “You’re throwing your life away, Sunghoon. I raised you better than this.”

And finally, something in Sunghoon snapped. His usually calm demeanor cracked as he stepped forward, his voice low and sharp. “No, what you did was control my entire life. And guess what? I’m done. I’m not a kid anymore, and I don’t need you micromanaging every decision I make.”

His mother’s eyes widened in shock, clearly not expecting this outburst. Even Jay looked taken aback, his mouth opening slightly in surprise.

You raised an eyebrow, leaning back and crossing your arms over your chest. This was getting good.

“Sunghoon—”

“No, Mom. Stop,” Sunghoon cut her off, his voice unwavering. “You’re not doing this because you care about me. You’re doing this because you care about your image. About the company’s image.”

His mother recoiled as though she’d been slapped, her perfectly manicured nails curling into fists at her sides. “How dare you—”

“How dare I?” Sunghoon laughed bitterly. “You’ve been treating me like a business deal my whole life, Mom. This isn’t about me. It’s about you.”

The room fell silent, the tension so thick you could practically feel it pressing down on your chest. Sunghoon’s mother stood frozen in place, her face a mixture of fury and shock.

Jay, sensing the growing hostility, started inching toward the door again, but before he could make his grand escape, Mrs. Park turned to him, her voice cutting through the silence like a blade. “Jay, we’re leaving.”

Jay practically tripped over his own feet in his eagerness to comply. He glanced at you briefly—an apologetic look that almost said sorry for the drama—before scurrying out of the room behind his aunt.

Mrs. Park paused in the doorway, turning to throw one last glare in your direction. “This isn’t over.”

You raised an eyebrow, nonchalantly taking another bite of your meal. “Looking forward to round two.”

She glared, and with a sharp turn, she stormed out, slamming the door behind her. The sound echoed through the room, leaving behind a silence that felt heavier than the bickering that had just taken place.

For a moment, neither you nor Sunghoon spoke. He stood there, still reeling from the argument, his jaw clenched, shoulders tense. You swallowed the last bite of your meal, wiping your mouth with a napkin as you glanced up at him.

“Well,” you said, breaking the silence with a wry smile, “that was fun.”

Sunghoon didn’t respond at first, his eyes focused on the floor, as if trying to gather his thoughts. Finally, he let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair again. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, his voice low.

You tilted your head, watching him carefully. “For what?”

“For all of… this,” he said, gesturing vaguely toward the door where his mother and cousin had exited. “I didn’t think it would get this bad.”

You shrugged, leaning back against the pillows. “I’m used to it. Your mom’s not exactly my biggest fan.”

“That’s putting it mildly,” Sunghoon muttered, the corner of his mouth twitching into a small, humorless smile.

A beat of silence passed between you, the tension slowly dissolving now that the storm had passed. But there was still something unspoken lingering in the air, something that felt heavier than the drama with his mother.

You glanced up at him, meeting his eyes. “So… what now?”

Sunghoon hesitated, his gaze softening as he looked at you. For the first time, there was no sarcasm, no playful banter. Just the weight of everything unsaid between the two of you.

“I don’t know,” he admitted quietly, his voice raw. “But I do know one thing.”

You raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said, his tone firm, his eyes locked on yours. “No matter what she says. No matter what anyone says.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the intensity in his voice, but you kept your expression neutral, not wanting to give anything away. “That sounds like a lot of trouble for nothing.”

Sunghoon stood by the edge of your hospital bed, arms crossed over his chest, his tall frame casting a long shadow over the room as the dim light from the ceiling flickered slightly. His gaze was a mix of disbelief and frustration, but there was an edge of something softer, something unreadable, as if he wasn’t quite sure whether to laugh or get defensive at your latest jab.

"Anyways, aren't you the heir?" You muttered, the words slipping out casually as you fiddled with the blanket, your tone attempting to sound neutral. But deep down, you knew exactly what you were doing. Trying to reason with Mrs. Park—despite her endless insults—wasn’t out of some newfound respect for her. No, this was a survival tactic. Sunghoon might equal trouble, but his mother? She was the gateway to all those fat cheques. You knew better than to entirely burn that bridge, even if it was hanging by a thread.

Sunghoon raised a brow at you, clearly not expecting the sudden change in direction. "You think she's worried about me?" he scoffed, almost incredulous.

You shrugged nonchalantly, refusing to meet his gaze for too long. "I just think… maybe she's concerned about your future," you muttered, your words laced with an attempt to seem logical, though your true motive lay elsewhere. You tugged the hospital blanket tighter around your legs, which still ached from the accident. A small price to pay for someone like him smashing into you.

He leaned against the wall, his stance casual but his expression anything but. "Future?" Sunghoon repeated, almost bitterly. He huffed before muttering under his breath, "I'm a racer."

You nearly choked on your own breath at that. A racer. The very notion of it was absurd, especially given how he ended up here with you in the hospital in the first place.

"No wonder she's worried." The words slipped out before you could stop them, your voice barely audible, but loud enough for him to catch. You glanced at him through the corner of your eye, noticing how his expression morphed from mild irritation to downright disbelief.

“What do you mean, ‘no wonder she’s worried’?” He demanded, straightening up, arms uncrossing as he took a step closer to you, like you’d just accused him of being some criminal mastermind.

You didn’t even try to stifle the small smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. "Come on, Sunghoon. Let’s be real for a second. You're not exactly... the best driver." You gestured lazily towards your leg, which was propped up in a cast. “Even on a motorbike, you managed to get my leg broken.”

He let out a deep sigh, frustration evident in the way he rolled his eyes, muttering, “Shut up,” under his breath, though the edges of his lips twitched upwards for a second. He hated that you had a point. But there was no real venom in his words, just mild annoyance, the kind that came from knowing someone had you cornered.

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his gaze drifting from you to the small bouquet of flowers on the side table, then back to you. His posture screamed discomfort, as if he wasn’t used to being in such close proximity to his own vulnerability. After a long pause, he finally asked the question you’d been dodging for a while now, his voice dipping into something almost concerned. “But why were you drunk, though? I mean, they found alcohol in your tests that day."

Your breath hitched for a moment, but you quickly waved it off, eyes flicking away to avoid his gaze. "I just had a bad day, okay?" The words came out a little too quickly, a little too defensive, and you knew it wasn’t the full story. But the last thing you wanted was to dive into your own mess, especially not with him.

Sunghoon didn’t push further, his gaze softening slightly, but he wasn't one to leave a conversation dangling for too long. “Why were you speeding, though?” You shot back, raising an eyebrow in return. If he was going to dig into your mess, you had every right to poke at his.

The corner of his mouth twitched nervously as he chuckled, his usual bravado faltering for a split second. You knew something was up. Sunghoon never got nervous. Not like this.

"Well..." he started, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, his eyes darting away from you, unable to maintain eye contact for too long.

“Well?" You pressed, folding your arms across your chest as you waited for whatever ridiculous excuse he had to offer.

Sunghoon let out a small, almost embarrassed laugh. "My dad saw me riding," he muttered. "So I was kinda in a hurry."

For a second, you just stared at him, blinking in disbelief. "That’s it?" you asked, your voice tinged with disbelief. "Your dad saw you riding, and that made you speed? You didn't even bother to stop when you crashed into me?”

He fidgeted slightly, clearly uncomfortable under your scrutinizing gaze, but he shrugged helplessly. "I didn’t see you, okay? I was too busy trying to avoid him."

You couldn't help but roll your eyes, sinking back into your pillows with a sigh. “That's it? And here I thought you were doing drug deals or something.”

The sarcasm in your voice was unmistakable, though you couldn't help but laugh at how ridiculous this whole situation had turned out to be. For someone who was supposedly the heir to a powerful corporation, Sunghoon had a way of complicating the most straightforward situations.

He blinked at you in disbelief, the tips of his ears turning red. "What? Drug dealing? Really?" he muttered, crossing his arms again as he leaned against the bed frame, clearly not impressed by your comment. But his reaction only made you grin wider.

You shrugged, a smirk tugging at your lips. “I mean, with how secretive you’ve been acting, who could blame me for assuming the worst?”

Sunghoon huffed, shaking his head in mild exasperation, though the ghost of a smile lingered on his face. "Trust me, my life is complicated enough without any of that.”

“Complicated, huh?” you echoed, your gaze drifting toward him. His posture had relaxed slightly, but there was still an air of frustration hanging between the two of you. You could tell there was more to the story, more that he wasn’t saying.

But you weren’t one to push, not when you had your own secrets buried deep.

You let the conversation die down after that, the room filled with a quiet sort of tension that wasn’t entirely uncomfortable. Sunghoon stayed by your side, despite everything, leaning against the frame of your bed as his eyes softened, watching you finish your meal with quiet focus. And for a moment, the tension between you eased, like the storm had passed, leaving behind a fragile calm.

But even in the silence, you couldn’t help but notice the small gestures—the way his fingers absentmindedly drummed against the bedpost, the way his gaze lingered a little too long on you when he thought you weren’t paying attention. There was something between you two, a line that neither of you wanted to cross, yet both kept flirting with.

And for the first time, the thought of it didn't scare you.

THE NEXT MORNING,

Sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting a soft glow across the sterile white walls of the hospital room. The monotonous hum of the machines, the occasional beep from the heart monitor, and the muted footsteps of nurses outside became the background symphony of your stay. You blinked your eyes open slowly, your body stiff from yet another restless night, and as your vision adjusted, the familiar dull ache in your leg grounded you back into the reality you’d been living for the past few days.

BUT TODAY, SOMETHING WAS DIFFERENT.

As you shifted slightly, careful not to agitate the cast on your leg, your gaze fell to the chair beside your bed. There he was—Park Sunghoon, slouched in the chair with his head resting against the armrest, his mouth slightly parted as soft, steady breaths escaped his lips. His long legs were sprawled out in front of him, one arm draped lazily across his stomach while the other rested close to yours, mere inches from the side of your bed. The sight was enough to make your breath hitch.

He’d stayed. Again.

For days, he had made this hospital room his second home, despite the biting remarks and the cold distance that had defined your relationship thus far. As if it was some kind of duty he couldn’t escape, some obligation he had to fulfill for the sake of his reputation or his family. At least, that’s what you convinced yourself. There’s no way he actually cares.

Still, you couldn’t help but wonder, especially in moments like this, when his face was stripped of its usual bravado, his guard completely down. He looked… peaceful. Innocent, even.

“If I didn’t know you were doing this for your reputation,” you murmured softly, barely above a whisper, “I would’ve thought you loved me.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and laced with something unspoken, something you weren’t quite ready to confront. You didn’t mean for him to hear it—he was asleep, after all—but there was a strange comfort in voicing the thought aloud, even if only to yourself.

You found yourself leaning a little closer, the distance between your bed and the chair barely enough to separate you two. Your fingers moved almost of their own accord, hesitating at first, before gently tracing the sharp line of his jaw. His skin was warm under your touch, soft despite the cold exterior he often portrayed. Your heart gave a nervous flutter as your finger ghosted over the delicate curve of his cheek, down to the bridge of his nose, and finally stopping at his lips.

Your breath caught as you stared at them—soft, slightly parted, and so close. There was something about this moment that felt dangerously intimate, a line you weren’t sure you should be crossing. But before you could pull away, his fingers wrapped around your wrist, warm and firm, halting your retreat.

Your heart stilled, the world suddenly reduced to the quiet space between the two of you. Sunghoon's eyes fluttered open slowly, his lashes casting faint shadows across his cheeks. He blinked once, twice, before his sleepy gaze focused on you, still hazy with the remnants of sleep. His grip on your wrist tightened ever so slightly, but not enough to hurt—just enough to keep you from escaping.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice low and raspy from sleep, the kind of voice that sent shivers down your spine. His words hung in the air, thick with confusion but also curiosity, as if he wasn’t entirely sure whether to be offended or amused.

Your mind scrambled for an explanation, anything to diffuse the tension suddenly filling the room. "There was a mosquito," you blurted out, your voice barely steady, attempting to sound casual as you tugged on your wrist, but he didn’t let go.

His brow arched in suspicion, though there was a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "A mosquito… on my lips?” he questioned, the incredulity in his tone barely masked by amusement. He pushed himself up from the chair, his hand still holding yours, and in a fluid motion, he was leaning over the side of the bed, closer—much closer—than he had any right to be.

The proximity was suffocating. You could feel his breath fan across your face, warm and steady, each exhale sending a fresh wave of heat across your skin. His dark eyes, still half-lidded with sleep, were locked onto yours, and for a split second, you forgot how to breathe. The space between you was so small, so intimate, you could practically hear the rapid beat of your own heart pounding in your ears.

Your face flushed crimson, the heat crawling up your neck as if you’d been caught doing something far worse than tracing his face. You swallowed hard, every nerve in your body suddenly on high alert, every muscle tensing under his intense gaze. "There… was something in my eye," you stammered, quickly averting your gaze as you finally pulled your hand away from his grip, your fingers trembling slightly as they found refuge behind your palms. You could feel the burn of embarrassment creeping up, your hands covering your face as if that could somehow hide the fact that you were blushing furiously.

Sunghoon, on the other hand, seemed entirely unfazed by your flustered state. He stood there for a moment longer, watching you with a mix of amusement and something deeper, something unreadable. He straightened up, stretching his arms above his head lazily, as if the moment that just passed was nothing more than a casual conversation.

But you knew better. There was something unspoken between you two, something that neither of you were ready to admit, but it lingered in the air, thick and undeniable.

"Something in your eye, huh?" he murmured, a teasing lilt to his voice as he glanced down at you, his lips curving into a small, knowing smile. He reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from your forehead with a casual familiarity that sent another wave of heat rushing to your cheeks.

You peeked through your fingers, still hiding most of your face as you mumbled, "Shut up."

He chuckled softly, the sound low and warm, and for a moment, the tension in the air eased, replaced by something lighter, something teasing but… comfortable.

But even as he turned away, walking towards the window to stretch his legs, the ghost of his touch still lingered on your skin, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe—just maybe—there was more to Sunghoon’s presence by your side than just reputation.

The clock on the wall ticked steadily as the midday sun spilled golden light into the hospital room, brightening the sterile white space that had become your temporary home. You sat on the edge of the bed, the nurse’s soft, encouraging voice still echoing in your ears after she had just removed your cast. The air felt electric with anticipation; you could finally walk again!

Sunghoon hovered by your side, his expression a mix of curiosity and concern, his brows furrowing slightly as he studied you. “Are you ready for this?” he asked, a teasing lilt in his voice, but the seriousness behind it was unmistakable. You nodded enthusiastically, your heart racing with excitement. It felt like a monumental moment—like the first step of many to reclaiming your independence.

With the adrenaline coursing through you, you stood up, a determined grin stretching across your face. But as you took your first step, everything shifted dramatically. Your foot wobbled, and before you knew it, you were tumbling forward, hitting the floor with a thud that echoed around the room.

“Ugh!” you groaned, your cheeks burning with embarrassment as you lay there, staring up at the fluorescent lights.

Sunghoon rushed forward, worry etched across his features, but before he could say anything, Wonyoung and Hanni burst into laughter, their giggles ringing like chimes through the room.

“Oh my god! Did you really just fall?” Hanni wheezed, nearly doubling over as she struggled to regain her composure.

“Looks like someone needs a little more practice!” Wonyoung added, her laughter infectious as she bent down to help you up, her hands extending towards you.

You couldn’t help but laugh a little at yourself as they pulled you back to your feet. “Thanks, guys,” you mumbled, trying to hide your flushed cheeks.

As they waved goodbye, still chuckling, Sunghoon remained behind, a bemused expression on his face. “That was quite the entrance,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned against the wall, a playful glint in his eye.

“Shut up,” you retorted, trying to brush off your embarrassment as you plopped back onto the bed, sulking a little. “I’m still getting used to this.”

“Come on, you can’t let a little tumble discourage you!” Sunghoon grinned, stepping closer with a theatrical flourish. “I, Park Sunghoon, will be your walking coach! Let’s do this!” He mimicked a sports announcer, waving his arms as if hyping up a crowd. “And by the end of this session, you will be the champion of walking!”

You rolled your eyes, suppressing a smile. “I don’t need a coach. I just need to not fall again.”

“Too late for that! You’ve already set the bar pretty low,” he teased, a playful smirk dancing across his lips. He leaned in closer, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “But don’t worry; I’ll help you reach new heights, or at least keep you from faceplanting again.”

With that, he extended his hand towards you, a gesture of encouragement. You hesitated for a moment, your heart fluttering as you met his gaze, but the absurdity of the situation was too much to resist. Taking a deep breath, you grasped his hand, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours.

“Okay, Mr. Walking Coach. Show me the way,” you said, trying to sound more confident than you felt.

He positioned himself next to you, his grip firm yet gentle. “First lesson: Keep your center of gravity low. Think like a ninja! Light on your feet!”

You couldn’t help but snort at his ridiculousness, the tension of your earlier fall dissipating as you stood next to him. “Ninja? Really? You think I’m going to be stealthy when I can barely stand?”

“Exactly! You’re going to be a stealthy ninja who, like a graceful gazelle, glides across the floor!” he exclaimed, his arms gesturing dramatically as he took a step back to give you space.

With his comedic antics distracting you from your nerves, you took a tentative step forward, wobbling a bit but managing to keep your balance. “See? Look at me! I’m practically a gazelle!” you proclaimed with mock bravado, your voice tinged with sarcasm.

“Gorgeous! Absolutely majestic!” Sunghoon exclaimed, feigning applause as you took another step. “But you know, a gazelle might want to avoid falling on its face. You should really work on that.”

You shot him a glare, but a smile broke through your facade. “You’re such an idiot.”

“That’s why I’m here!” he laughed, inching closer again, still holding your hand to steady you. “Now, let’s go for round two. This time, no falling!”

With a deep breath, you focused on your balance, your heart racing not just from the thrill of standing but from the way his warm hand felt enveloping yours. You took another step, then another, Sunghoon’s encouraging words ringing in your ears, his steady presence anchoring you.

But with every shaky movement, reality set in. You were acutely aware of the gulf between the two of you—the wealth and expectations that surrounded his life, the disparity that loomed like a shadow over this moment of laughter and lightness. He was an heir, bound for greatness, while you felt like a mere accident in his world.

“Just a few more steps,” he encouraged, a slight frown creasing his forehead as he sensed your hesitation. “You’re doing great!”

With his support, you managed to make a few shaky strides, laughter bubbling up with each unsteady movement. “Maybe I’ll actually be able to walk out of here after all,” you joked, feeling lighter with each step.

“See? I told you! You’re going to be my ninja walking prodigy!” he laughed, his eyes bright with excitement.

But as the moment drew on, a bittersweet realization sank in. Once you were well enough to leave, his part in your story would fade into the background like a forgotten dream. You could already picture it—a world where he resumed his life, his responsibilities, leaving you behind like a chapter closed.

Yet here you were, the two of you intertwined in this moment, laughing and learning how to walk again, and for a fleeting second, you wished it could last just a little bit longer.

THE DAY HAD FINALLY COME,

THE ONE YOU DREADED MORE THAN ANYTHING.

Weeks had passed, and despite all the mental notes you made to remind yourself that this was temporary, you couldn’t shake the attachment you’d developed to Sunghoon. Maybe it was the routine, maybe it was the fact that he had been there every step of the way while you healed, or maybe, it was something else entirely—something more dangerous.

You watched from a distance as Sunghoon handled your final hospital bill. The cold sterility of the hospital didn’t bother you as much as the thought of walking out of it without him by your side. He paid the fees like he had promised from the start, his sleek credit card effortlessly handling the expenses that you knew would have financially crippled you otherwise.

You tried to convince yourself that this attachment, this gnawing feeling of loss before he even left, was simply because you had spent too much time with him. After all, you practically lived together for months. But even telling yourself that over and over again didn’t stop the sting behind your eyes, the prickling of tears that threatened to spill.

You took a deep breath and wiped them away quickly, just as you saw him walking towards you, his tall figure cutting through the hospital corridor with ease. His face was calm as usual, though his eyes held a quietness that made your chest tighten. You forced a smile, the same one you always gave him, but this time, it carried a weight of sadness you couldn’t shake.

At least Mrs. Park wasn’t here. You couldn’t imagine how much worse you’d feel with her scrutinizing every little move, every interaction, like she was tallying it up in some invisible ledger. But in this quiet space, where it was just you and Sunghoon, you started to believe that maybe… just maybe, he was worth more than the money she flaunted, more than the reputation you helped him protect.

He smiled back at you, but even that felt distant, as if the finality of this moment weighed on him too. His hand rested casually on your shoulder, the same way it had for the past few weeks, a gesture of familiarity that was once just for show in front of others, but now… now it felt different.

As you walked out of the hospital together, the flashing of cameras and the swarm of paparazzi waiting outside hit you like a tidal wave. They were here, of course they were. The media had been all over this—your fake relationship, the story of his girlfriend who nursed him back to health after an accident. None of them knew the truth. None of them knew that the only reason you were here was because of a fractured leg caused by that same accident. It had all been to protect him from public backlash, to clean up his image, to shield him from the criticism that would have followed.

But now, as his hand lingered on your shoulder longer than necessary, as he guided you through the crowd, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t fake at all. Not anymore.

The car ride back was filled with a silence that felt almost suffocating. You stared out of the window, watching the city blur by, your heart heavy with the realization that this was it. Your leg had healed, the bills were paid, and now Sunghoon was going to disappear from your life just as quickly as he had entered it.

You sighed, the sadness in your chest growing. This was it. The end of whatever this was, of whatever you had convinced yourself wasn’t real.

The car came to a stop at a quiet street, far from the prying eyes of the paparazzi. It wasn’t your home, not really—just the rented apartment you could barely afford. But it was where you were headed, and it was the place where Sunghoon would say goodbye.

You couldn’t stop the sigh that escaped your lips, filled with an aching sadness that even you couldn’t fully comprehend. It felt almost comedic, like the setup for some bad joke. The rich boy, the poor girl, the fake relationship—they always ended like this, right?

“You seem to not enjoy getting better,” Sunghoon’s voice broke the silence, his words light, almost teasing, but you could hear the undercurrent of something more.

You let out a short, bitter laugh, not even bothering to hide your emotions anymore. What was the point? “How could I enjoy it when it meant you would go away?” The words slipped out, raw and unfiltered, before you had a chance to stop them.

He didn’t respond right away. Instead, his hands tightened slightly on the steering wheel, his knuckles whitening as he pulled the car over to the side of the road. The soft hum of the engine faded into the background as he turned to face you, his expression unreadable. His eyes searched yours, as if trying to understand the weight of your words.

And then, in one swift movement, he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “I’ll always be there,” he whispered, his voice low, sending a shiver down your spine. “Wherever you are, in bad shape or sick, I’ll be there.”

“Why?” You barely recognized your own voice, so soft, so vulnerable, as if you were afraid of the answer.

His lips were so close now, his breath fanning across your skin, the space between you shrinking to almost nothing. He paused, giving you a chance to pull away, but when you didn’t, when you stayed frozen in place, his lips brushed against yours. It was barely a kiss, just the softest touch, like a promise not yet fully spoken.

He pulled back just enough to whisper against your lips, “Even when you get sick, I’ll be there. Waiting for you… to get well soon.”

His words were like a balm to your aching heart, but also a dagger to the fear you’d been holding inside. You felt a wave of emotions crash over you—relief, confusion, frustration, but above all, hope.

And just like that, everything between you shifted.

© senascoop | tumblr

► 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 |

►DANCING WITH THE DEVIL #002 [Sunghoon.]

Part 1 of this can be found here ‣ #001

Abstract: As you had foreseen, Sunghoon and you were back to being strangers. While it was all you had initially wished for, the suddenness and extremity of it was gnawing you from inside as it made you feel as if the past few months had been nothing —that you, too, were in fact nothing. All the while, cases around town continued to rise and in tandem, your recurring night terrors intensified, increasingly blurring the lines between dreams, memories and reality. In the midst of it all, you realised that happenings around town and around you did not add up. The more you dig however, the more you realised how close real danger had always been. How deeply entangled you actually were in the whole web with Sunghoon seemingly being connected to. But is he merely connected to it or has he been the one spinning the web intricately all these while?   ‣ [ do check out Part 1 first ]

Genre: vampire!sunghoon | horror | thriller | fantasy | romance // wc: ~10.8k

Warnings: blood; violence; injuries; slight suggestiveness (forced); mentions of crimes (missing persons, murder, serial killings); manipulation; toxicity; trauma.

i : back to square one

To say that the past few months had been a whirlwind would be an understatement. With the amount of unprecedented things happening around you and to you, it all felt kind of like a fever dream. It didn’t help that since you’ve submitted your assignment, Park Sunghoon, the campus heartthrob who somehow couldn’t leave you alone even for a second last semester, has suddenly gone cold on you. Let alone just simply greeting you, he had never even casted you a single glance since the last day you guys worked together. In fact, you could be right in front of him or beside him and his eyes and attention would just always be on anyone and anywhere but you. While you had foreseen this, even being the one to have told him that the assignment was the only thing binding you two together, the way it all shifted just overnight made it impossible to quell the distaste you feel within — that you were used. That all those months, labouring over the assignment, sharing jokes and stories, were nothing — that you were nothing. 

And just like that, you guys were strangers again.

“Are you sure nothing happened that night?” Sunoo elbowed you, bringing you back to reality. Deja vu, you thought, remembering how Sunoo had asked a similar question just months ago when Sunghoon started pestering you. You were going to answer him but got immediately distracted by whatever he was shooting daggers at. You followed his gaze, regretting it almost immediately, as you saw that it was at Sunghoon and his little clique who were walking from the opposite direction. As usual, while the rest of the clique were being rowdy and playful with one another, Sunghoon, at the back, stayed unperturbed, hands in his pockets, eyes straight ahead — always looking so disengaged and aloof. You don’t even have to worry about him catching you staring because he wouldn’t. It is literally as if you had turned invisible since your last day together.

"What a prick," Sunoo scoffed, somehow feeling victimised on behalf of you as Sunghoon just passed you by without as much as a glance, “Something must have happened to have turned him so cold all of a sudden y/n — I mean he can’t just shift like that overnight. Did you not remember the way he stared at you before this so-called Cold War happen? it was disgustingly dripping with attraction and obsession, you’d have to be blind to miss it. Seriously, tell me the truth, did you guys fight or disagree or—”

“Sunoo, first things first. He was never obsessed with me. You were the one making that assumption. While we did work well together, at best we were just groupmates — not even friends probably. So it makes sense for it all to just revert to square one now that the assignment is over,” you sighed exasperatedly as you pressed the button of the elevator in front of you, “and for the umpteenth time Sunoo, no, nothing happened.”

At least that’s what I think, you thought to yourself as you reminisced about that night you last worked with Sunghoon together. You remembered working until dawn with him. You remembered leaning back against his sofa. You remembered him staring. You remembered packing up. Then you remembered waking up in your own bed, apparently having chronically overslept. You couldn’t exactly remember how you got home though, to be honest. You remembered snippets of it — city lights, sound of cars passing by, the sound of the door, certain warmth and pressure — but it was all a blur. When you woke up, you felt so lightheaded and groggy with your body aching and sore in some places. Then there was this unexplained level of hunger which made you dawn a whole 16” box of pizza to yourself that day — it was as if you had been fasting for days.

The ache eventually subsided and your appetite eventually returned to normal but now and then, you'd get dizzy spells. To make matters weirder, when you went for blood donation not long after, the Nurse deemed you ineligible as a donor as your Haemoglobin count was abnormally low — a drop that was quite alarming given how you have never had such histories and considering how you have not donated nor lost massive amounts of blood recently. It was all very weird but in the absence of any rational explanations, you attempted to make sense of it all by attributing it to how bad your sleeping and dietary habits have become weeks following up to the deadline as you only fuelled yourself daily with 2-hours of sleep and an inordinate amount of coffee.

Then of course there was Park Sunghoon, who went from suddenly having perfect attendance during the last semester to suddenly missing most of his classes this semester. During the few times when you do see him on campus grounds, his attention would always be on anywhere and anyone but you. It eventually got pretty obvious to you that with the assignment submitted, whatever you two had, if it was even worth labelling as friendship, must have ended with it.

“Are you going to just stand there?” Sunoo snapped his fingers, bringing you back to reality, as he continued pressing the elevator button to keep the door open.

“Right sorry, I was just—"

“Spacing out?” he cut you mid-sentence, "you have been spacing out a little bit too much lately, do you know that?"

"This semester's schedule is pretty crazy, I'm probably still trying to acclimatise to it," you lied, plastering a smile when Sunoo suddenly took out a yellow file from his bag, beckoning you to take it. It has the word 'CONFIDENTIAL' stamped across the cover. Absentmindedly, you flipped it open, almost cussing out loudly as grisly shots of dead bodies greeted you, “Sunoo, what the f-” you glared at him beside you, shutting the file close almost immediately when the elevator door opened to the 7th floor of the library.

“Right sorry, should've warned you beforehand —” Sunoo smiled sheepishly, "they’re some shots of the latest victims of our town’s serial killings — hey, stop glaring at me, I didn’t steal them from somewhere — I just, you know happen to beat the police to it—”

“Happened to be?” you stressed, eyeing him suspiciously.

“Fine,” Sunoo grunted, “that genius Ni-Ki somehow managed to intercept the police radio station so we receive all these reports at the same time as the police and well, lucky for us, since they are massively incompetent in responding in a timely manner, we got the privilege of seeing the body and the place first before they do. We’re not that stupid though — of course we kept our distance. Otherwise, we’d be mistaken as suspects instead.” 

“You look and sound inappropriately ecstatic about something so grim,” you grumbled, finally opening the file again, grimacing at the grisly shots, “Aren’t you two being too serious about this? I mean, the press and the police are already on it, why meddle further? I get the curiousity but isn't this too much effort and risk?"

“Well, I happen to be serious about getting that scholarship to New York and this, oh boy, this piece, would just throw everyone else's applications down the drain," Sunoo enthused, "and well as for Ni-Ki, that boy loves danger and adventure, he wouldn’t even care about the risks.”

You shook your head dismissively as you flipped through the pages, “but didn’t you say the bodies were drained of blood last time? These are all pretty bloodied. Do you think they might have been done by a different perpetrator?“

Sunoo stopped pacing around and hurried over, peeking over your shoulders, "oh yeah, I almost forgot about that report-"

“Or they could be the same killer actually, just changing up his tactics to throw the police off the trails...” you suggested, seeing Sunoo’s forehead scrunching in deep thoughts as he pored over the idea. You continued, “or a badly-done copycat killing—”

“Oh shit,” Sunoo gasped, snatching the pictures from you, “You are so smart, I didn’t even — I should make a proper timeline, connecting coroner's reports and pictures, maybe—”

“Don’t get too excited though. I’m no criminal profiler, I could be completely off— hey!” you yelped, rubbing your cheek in disgust as Sunoo had just absentmindedly planted a kiss on your cheek.

“Sunoo, stop that! people will get the wrong idea—” you grumbled, trailing off as you looked around the library cautiously. You stopped short when you noticed how, in the midst of people being busy in their own world, someone just across the floor, by the railings overlooking the atrium, was staring right at you. Hands against the railings with gaze so intense, unflinching and unnerving, it was Park Sunghoon. You realised that this had been the first time he had given you any slightest attention since you guys had submitted your work. You scoffed then, remembering all the times he could've been cordial to you before but instead chose to act as if you never existed. You broke the eye contact, walking away towards the side of the floor which would have been out of his field of vision, thinking to yourself, "well, two can play the game."

ii : nightly terrors

It was just supposed to be a quick power nap — one to quench your exhaustion and also to kill time as you wait for Sunoo to finish transcribing his interviews. As your mind flitted through a series of vivid hypnogogic hallucinations however, it all gradually warp into a familiar foreboding scene: a long dark hallway — eerily quiet and hauntingly cold, both ends of which just seemingly leading to a dark abyss. Every time you see this exact scene materialising in your dreams, you were hit with a wave of familiarity — as if you’ve seen the place, as if you’ve been in it. But never could you dwell longer on it because within seconds, you’d always find yourself sprinting towards the darkness, fumbling clumsily to open the door that apparently lay at the end of it, only for it to be slammed close the moment you succeed.

You would then feel yourself harshly spun around, your back slammed against the door. You swallowed thickly as the dark figure loom closer before you, knowing full well what would happen next and bracing yourself for the fate. It was after all the same nightmare that has been plaguing you on most nights since a few weeks ago. Despite the recurrence however, the feeling of terror and dread never subsided — striking you anew each time as you helplessly and passively relive each one of them. You realised however, something was different this time.

For starters, you realised you could feel: the pain on your back, the fabric of the man's sleeves under your grasp, his sharp nails digging onto the skin of your arm — you could feel them all. Then, as you furl and unfurl your fingers as you willed, you were hit by the realisation that unlike in the previous nightmares where you had no control over your body, this time, you were awake — you were lucid.

You wasted no time then, attempting to spin the nightmare around this time. Staring back up boldly at the figure in front of you, you grabbed a fistful of his collar, pulling his face closer to you, "you... I know you don't I?”. You weren’t exactly sure why you said that to him but as the moonlight that had streamed through a nearby window casted a slight glow on the lower part of his face, you realised that that man might really be someone you were familiar with — the paleness, the angular jaw, the plump rosy lips — you had seen it before. Suddenly the smirk on his face widened into a toothy grin, his tongue making a quick swipe across his teeth — the canines of which were abnormally elongated and sharp, they looked almost like fangs.

The next thing you knew he had dipped his head onto the crook of your neck, paralysing you with the vividness of it all: his lips ghosting over your bare neck, his tongue gliding over a particular spot, followed by, you winced, a prick of pain at the exact same spot. Suddenly, the ability to feel felt more like a curse, as you feel him sucking on your neck. While you already expected the move, it had always been painless and sensationless — so with the ability to feel taking the vividness of the dream to new heights, you found real panic and terror rising within you. You lifted your hand and as expected, blood had trickled down your arm but you didn’t expect that it had been dripping down onto the ground, pooling by your feet. You gasped, feeling truly aghast and terrified for your life. You begin thrashing wildly against him, hitting, pushing and screaming for him to get off of you, but alas he was stronger and with every effort and strength you take, the weaker you grew.

You feel yourself slowly giving up when you started hearing someone calling your name faintly, "y/n... y/n!"

The voice grew louder and with each calls, you feel increasingly disconnected from your body with the scene before you slowly getting hazy and blurry. 

“Y/N!”

You suddenly jolted awake, gasping and disoriented as the scene moments ago crumbled into something else. Instead of the faceless tall man from moments ago, you found yourself being held by Sunoo. His brows were furrowed in a mixture of worry and fear, his hands tightly grabbing onto your wrists as if trying to restrain you, “Y/N! Are you alright???!”

“I- uh” you croaked as you looked around the room, trying to acclimatised to the environment and confirm that this is indeed the reality, not whatever bloody terror you had just witnessed earlier. 

“You were screaming and I tried to wake you up but instead you just thrashed around, almost hitting me and I just had to hold you down like this—" he rambled as he loosened his grip and held your face up, as if to further confirm if you were okay. You mustered a weak smile as you started to calm down a little bit, “I’m sorry. It was a nightmare. I’m fine… it’s just — just a nightmare.”

You lied. You did not feel fine at all and it was not just a nightmare — not when it had been plaguing you almost every night since weeks ago, never ceasing to strike so much dread and terror despite the repetitions. You realised that they had gotten increasingly more detailed and vivid as of late — often revealing something new each time but never had you been awake and lucid in it as you just had. It all felt so real — as if it had been a memory that you unlocked, replayed and relived — rather than just some a trickery of the mind once one falls asleep.

“But, I’ve never seen you so—"

“Hey, it’s just a nightmare… I'm okay, really...” you reassured him, though it kind of felt as if you were trying to reassure yourself too, "I'll just get myself some water. Go continue with your work Sunoo..."

You got up, groggily making your way to the pantry near the big board. As you were dawning a glass of water, your eyes darted cautiously across the clippings of the serial killer news on Sunoo’s cork board, wondering if all the morbidity you have exposed yourself to almost on the daily had wormed themselves deep inside your brain that they end up seeping into your dreams as well. Probably the only plausible explanation, you reasoned with yourself when your eyes keep on zeroing in onto the odd marks on the neck of the victims. In the midst of all the cuts and gashes, some of the bodies featured odd puncture wounds: some double, some single. Like a snakebite or something. 

Subconsciously, your finger had travelled up to your neck, grazing a spot where a cut had mysteriously appeared just a few weeks ago. You realised just then that it was around the same spot where that man in your dream had punctured, or rather, bitten into. You winced at the memory, still somehow able to feel the pain despite the fact that it had happened in a dream.

The first time you noticed the cut was the day after the assignment deadline as you were rushing to get ready after having overslept. When you first saw it, it was still red — indicating that it was likely not even 1-2 days old — and about 8 cm long. You remembered being weirded out as you could not remember nor imagined how you could ever accidentally hurt yourself on such a spot, in a such a way. On the elbow or on the knee? sure. But on the crook of your neck? debatable. The more you assessed the cut in the following days however, the more you noticed something odd about it. The cut somehow slightly curved outwards at two points, as if it had run over another wound. Eventually you got busier and forgot about the cut altogether.

Tonight however, you found yourself thinking about the cut again, which by now had fully healed fading closer to the colour of your skin, as you looked at each of the pictures before you, trying to scrutinise the injuries on their neck. Suddenly Sunoo snatched the pictures off the board, “alright, no more dead bodies for you y/n. It was my fault — I didn't even consider how you feel. Perhaps its been too much for you and —”

But you weren't listening anymore. You just watched silently, your mind on overdrive, your finger still rubbing the scar on your neck. “Wait,” you finally said something, grabbing Sunoo’s hand to stop him, “do you have clearer pictures… of the neck perhaps?”

“Well, Ni-Ki is developing the rest so there should be some—" Sunoo mumbled when the door opened.

“Ni-Ki!” you called out, as he emerged out of the photo studio, asking if he has any other pictures. He nodded excitedly as he handed you the bundle of pictures. You grabbed a few clearer ones, trying to confirm your allegations. 

“Guys… what if…-“ you mumbled, “I mean, I dont know for sure, these pictures aren't the clearest but... if you look at the neck, some of them have what looked like puncture wounds — some had like two punctures, just like a snakebite, though some only had one. But,” you continued, pushing some of the pictures forward, “wherever there’s only one, there is always another cut either above or under and look over here, wherever there's none, the necks are mostly covered by frenzied slash wounds—” you swallowed thickly, reminded of your own scar, the possible wound underneath, and the dream, "I mean it could just be nothing... but I can't help but think that what if, what if, the haphazard wounds over the neck is meant to mask the puncture wounds?”

"Okay," Ni-ki scrunched his brows as he considered the possibilities, "but why though?"

"Beats me," you shrugged, sinking onto a nearby stool, "it's just the few common denominators that seem to stick to me. Maybe it's the real weapon? Not sure what kind of tool would have inflicted those kind of wounds though—"

"No you're actually right," Sunoo nodded, rubbing his chin as he pored over all the reports of past serial killings that he had read and researched on, "with that kind of mark, it might have been easier for the police to track the killer through the weapon so maybe his game plan was actually to cover it up hence why most of the bodies have slash wounds haphazardly inflicted around their neck. And then perhaps due to timing, carelessness or just pure laziness, he would end up slashing less than usual, making the puncture mark visible on some of the bodies."

"Do you think it could be a syringe or something? maybe to poison or incapacitate them beforehand," Ni-ki wondered aloud, "or I don't know a modified bat with nails at the end—"

"Wait, since y/n mentioned that it kind of looked like a snakebite... what if it isn't a weapon?" Sunoo gasped, gesticulating wildly, "what if it's actually a snake? like maybe the killer, being sick enough in the head, unleashed a snake on the victims first to torture them or something before —"

"What are the odds of a snake biting someone at the same exact spot though?" Ni-ki raised his brows.

"You're right," Sunoo pondered, "unless they put a bait on that exact spot — wait, what if..." he gulped, lowering his voice to a whisper, "vampires?"

"Get out of here Kim Sunoo," Ni-Ki scoffed, shaking his head dismissively.

What Sunoo said definitely sounded sillier but somehow instead of shooting the idea down immediately, like you would have, the scene from your recurring nightmare flashed across your mind, sending shivers down your spine: the abnormally long canines; the bite on your neck; and the blood dripping. You furrow your brows, trying to quell feeling of dread rising within as you touched the scar on your neck, while your eyes travelled from one pictures to the other, looking at the puncture marks on their necks.

"Vampires are stuff of fables but," you murmured, "there might be some relevancy there. What if it's a fetish or a quirk? maybe he's obsessed with vampire lores or maybe is psychologically ill and believe that he is one — either way, what I'm trying to say is that maybe he's trying to mimic it. But," you sighed, frustrated with your own train of thoughts and deduction, "why cover it then? if you're obsessed with the thought that you are a vampire or something, wouldn't you want to leave it as it is? rather than cover it?"

Sunoo and Ni-Ki nodded in agreement, debating it further, but you weren't listening to any of it anymore as your mind became increasingly preoccupied with more questions — all of which were now directing towards yourself: the cut, the dream, the maniac from before.

"— let's stake at the harbour next," you hear Ni-Ki said and Sunoo agreeing almost immediately. Without missing a beat and without any further thought, you interrupted, "I want in."

“Really?” Sunoo’s face lit up momentarily before suddenly schooling his expressions, “- wait no, you’ve already brushed with a potential serial killer like two months ago. I am not going to put your life in danger.”

“Sunoo, you know how I feel about unsolicited paternalism,” you grumbled, arms folding, “like you said last time, I’m smart — I would be a great asset to you both. Like just now.”

“You’re in,” Ni-Ki pushed Sunoo aside and extended his hands to you, “if we are serious about this, we need her intelligence. I mean even both of our brains can’t analyse and observe the pictures with such insight even though we have been on this case for months.”

You grinned triumphantly, taking in Ni-Ki’s hands proudly before sticking your tongue out at Sunoo. Sunoo opened his mouth to protest but closed it immediately, finding himself wrought in a mental dilemma. He groaned, throwing his hands in the air, “Fine. But you must stick to us whenever we go to the field okay? Must. I know you always go off alone and slip away but not this time.”

“Geez, okay mum,” you mocked, before offering your hand to him, beckoning him to shake it.

You weren't exactly certain what you wanted to gain from this, if not just further troubles. But something about the case and whatever has happened around you seemed to have a link. It might just be something psychological — maybe the fear from the serial killings has insidiously seeped into your mind, making you dream and hallucinate to the point of connecting dots that weren't there in the first place. Still, sitting around and letting yourself be haunted by your own nightmares and news headlines wouldn't do any good, you thought. If anything, at least by tagging along with them, you can either confirm or dispel whatever nagging presumptions you had about whatever has happened around you and to you.

Little did you know just how messy the whole thing was. How true the saying 'ignorance is bliss' is.

iii : confronting the elephant in the room

When results for the last semester was finally released one fine afternoon, all eyes were on you. After all, the assignment that you and Sunghoon had laboriously worked on for Macroeconomics was awarded the only ‘A’ in the module — in fact, the only A awarded ever under the module after like two years.

“Well, that’s what happens when you ask two of the brightest in the faculty to work together,” Sunoo elbowed you, smiling sheepishly as you stared agape at the screen, still in disbelief at the grades displayed on your dashboard.

The joy was however short-lived as you were called to the Professor’s room not soon after. Apparently he was so impressed by the paper, he had invited you and Sunghoon to co-author a paper with him for an upcoming annual conference. As Sunghoon did not show up to his office, the professor had instead asked you to pass the message to him — the task of which you wished you could have outsourced given how Sunghoon does not seem so keen to engage with you anymore. And you, too, weren't exactly ecstatic to engage with him again either.

Hence why you were fiddling nervously with your pen the next morning in lecture as your eyes darted back and forth from Sunghoon, who was seated at the other end of the lecture theatre, to the brochure about the upcoming conference in your hand — your mind set ablaze with dilemma. You really did not want to talk to him again that you even considered turning down the professor’s offer altogether — but that would be irrational, you thought. It was after all an opportunity like no other that could embellish your resumé further, making you more attractive to prospective employers. Then alternatively, you had also considered to just not pass on the message and tell the professor that you haven't seen him or something. But you thought that would be selfish of you. After all, it was a joint paper so he deserves the credit and opportunity as much as you do. Hence, setting your ego aside, you decided to run after him after the lecture ended. 

You didn’t really have any expectations. At worse, you pictured him scoffing and saying “no thanks”. But well, he exceeded your expectations in the worse way possible. The moment you caught up to him, he did not even bother to act friendly or civil. There were no ‘hi’, no smile — nothing, just an expression of disinterest if not, annoyance, as he took his EarPods off. You begun explaining about the Professor's offer and the upcoming paper as you handed the brochure to him, though the lack of interest which was apparent on his face, and the lack of response were making you feel increasingly unnerved and embarrassed. As if that wasn't enough, he further made you feel worse as he interrupted mid-way, handing the brochure back, “and? am I supposed to be happy for you? or interested in this? what?”

“Uh—" you were rendered speechless for a moment, “I mean, the professor is inviting us to both co-author a paper together again. It was after all our work. You deserve the credit as much as-" 

“I couldn’t care less,” he exhaled sharply, “about this or about you taking the credit. Do whatever you want. I’ve done my job as your partner last time.”

You swallowed thickly, his words searing more than you expected, “Well, that’s fine then. I was just passing the message on.”

“Anything else?” he asked with an eyebrow raised, looking as if you had just wasted his time. You never felt so much anger and embarrassment both at the same time. “Okay then,” he shrugged, taking your lack of responses as a 'no' and walking past you.

You scoffed. You weren’t really confrontational as a person but the way this all spun was really bothering you more than you wanted to admit — like a nagging sensation at the back of your neck. The way he acted was almost as if you had done something wrong. But what? You thought to yourself. Suddenly Sunoo’s question and your memory lapse rang in your mind.

“Wait-" you called out, “Did something happen that night?”

You can see him heaving a huge sigh before turning around to answer you, “Unless you mistook or misunderstood something, nothing happened. We finished our work and you went home alone. I didn’t bother sending you. That’s it. You didn’t expect-”

“I don’t. I just-“

“Look, this happens all the time,” Sunghoon said icily, biting his lower lip in annoyance as he took a few steps towards you, “I show any slight attention and people just mistake it as interest, expecting it to bloom into something,” the corner of his lips lifted into a conceited grin, “don’t tell me the Great Wall is buckling too? Let me spell it out to you then —“

“Park Sunghoon,” you cut him off, the anger starting to rise within, “let me spell it out to you because you seem to be blind with narcissism and conceit. I have my suspicions about you from the very start — that you were attempting to toy me around, for whatever reasons. I guess it must have failed since you are mistaking any slight cordiality from me now for attraction when I am just passing on the message and being nice to you for old time's sake. Get off your high horse.”

With that you turned on your heel and walked away, the anger growing with every step you took, the crumpled paper in your grasp being the only evidence of it. That being said, you couldn't help but shake the feeling of familiarity of it all — the way your words rolled so effortlessly out your mouth made it feel as if you had spoken something similar before. But that’s impossible, you thought, no one would have riled you up so much to the point where you had to deliver such a scathing remark.

Most importantly, even if someone had, you should have remembered it.

iv: entanglement

It was not supposed to drag on this long and this deep, Sunghoon thought to himself as he watched you over from their hangout room on the 5th floor of the North Wing. You were sitting by the fountain, rambling animatedly to your ‘guard dog’, making big gestures in between coffee sips while occasionally doubling-over in a fit of laughter with him. Sunghoon hated how he knew exactly what coffee you had ordered and how he could hear your laughter clearly in his mind as if he was right there next to you.

Despite the crowds forming and dispersing around you, his eyes have not left you for even a fraction of a second and if looks could kill, you'd have long been dead. Most frustrating of all to him was how with every smile you flashed, he could feel his heart raced and throbbed — though he wasn’t certain if it had been due to attraction or annoyance because both had indeed been what he had been feeling towards you as of late.

Sunghoon has always been at the top of things. That is, until you came along and become a prominent part of his daily life since the start of the project. While he may have orchestrated the whole thing to turn the way it did: for you to become partners with him; for him to save you; for you to spend inordinate amount of time alone with him; and so on — you were unexpectedly like a force of nature, somehow managing to hold on your own and throw everything into disarray. It always left him feeling so confused, vexed and intrigued — conflicting emotions of which he hadn't felt in a long time — always making him torn over his next moves as he could never know if he wanted you or if he wanted to end you.

He exhaled sharply as he turned around, leaning against the large stained windows and recounting the events from that night. He didn't really plan on biting you that night but everything was indeed unfolding perfectly: you were alone with him, in his own house, with your guards down. For someone like you, who to him, has been unnecessarily a handful to deal with compared to his other victims — this was perfect as he could just quickly and cleanly sink his fangs into you and then have your body disposed somewhere. That was how simple he pictured it to be when he first set sights on you, visions red with contempt. But little did he know, in spending too much time trying to orchestrate everything perfectly from the beginning just to get back at you in the worst way possible, he was getting caught in the intricate web that he himself had spun for you.

And that night, things definitely went awry. Or rather, I went awry, he corrected himself as he threw his head back against the stained windows, suddenly reminded of the way his lips locked with yours in a drunken stupor.

The thing about Park Sunghoon is that he does not kiss — not initiating it, at least. After all, the guy love mind games and power. He relishes in the way people get so easily enchanted and manipulated by him, eventually buckling into submission without him having to lift a finger, begging for him no matter the cost. It was such a pathetic yet satisfying sight, he always thought, the way they beg for him not realising that they were basically begging for their death. Besides, as he always told Jay and Jake, both of whom never tire from indulging in such carnal pleasures, he was getting too old to be beating around the bush so he’d just cut the bullshit and go straight for the neck. As if you’re any older than us, Jake would mock.

That is not to say he would reject it completely though. His being aren’t completely deprived of carnal desires so when someone does initiate it, he wouldn't protest nor reject it, letting himself just enjoy it, treating it like an appetiser before the main course. Though again, unlike Jay and Jake, he wouldn’t drag it on. 

That is, until you happened. You were supposed to be just another pawn — something to fuel his desire for mind games and power. Instead however, you were able to hold on your own, engaging him so effortlessly in a field that he had always trounced in, keeping him on edge and making him wanting more. He found himself obsessed with you and he sought to entrap you further in his games but little did he know that in digging a trench so deep for you to fall into, he himself might end up getting stuck in it. He can now see just how far he had miscalculated his steps and underestimated you, for when the opportunity to get back at you, like he always wanted, materialised that night, he did the stupidest thing he could have ever done — he went for your lips.

The moment his lips enveloped yours, he completely lost all sense and rationality. Like on a drunken stupor, he was so intoxicated by the softness of your lips, the warmth emanating from your body, and the way you struggled against him — it was sickly electrifying and intoxicating and as if karma was getting back at him, he remembered feeling how he was the one getting lulled this time. Then there was the smell and taste of your blood on your lips that sent him delirious but somehow, instead of triggering his predatory feeding mode, it fuelled his hunger for something else.

He remembered then hungrily pressing his lips onto yours, his hands roaming up your body, making you gasp, providing him the perfect opportunity to deepen the kiss, as he slipped his tongue in. He remembered how the harder you protested and rejected him, the more it riled him up, finding himself trailing sloppy kisses down your neck — something he’d hardly have to nor want to do to another human. As he grabbed a fistful of your shirt, tugging it just slightly just off your shoulder, he could feel the desire to sink his fangs into you morphing into something different: it was no longer just to simply satisfy his thirst and get back at you — he wanted to mark you; to own you. That was probably why he was able to stop himself from depriving you completely off of your life source that night despite how much you had riled him — because it wasn’t just hunger alone.  

He could feel his throat now constricting and his gums tingling — an indication of the hunger rising within and his canines extending into its full length — as the memory reawaken his thirst for your blood, for your lips, for you in its entirety. “Fuck,” he cussed breathily, burying his face in his palm, suddenly seeing red again. He hated the hold you seemingly have on him. He had been all over the place the past few weeks trying to prove otherwise: meeting other girls; drinking other blood; and most importantly, avoiding and being an arse towards you. He was afterall, no slave to emotions nor desires — he could overcome this easily, he thought to himself. Yet, here he was, tormented from just mere memories of you. Oh, he wanted you so bad.

“You have got to nip this in the bud,” he suddenly remembered Heeseung cautioning him one night, “otherwise, it will grow into an Achilles Heel Sunghoon.”

He turned back around, dizzy, as he propped his hand against the window, letting his head rest against it as his eyes, which were growing luminescent by the second, zeroed in on you. "I shouldn't have let you live..." Sunghoon breathed, feeling the gravity of Heeseung's words.

v: minefield

With cases rising and no leads, your campus had started to impose a curfew, threatening punishments for those found to be out and about in campus grounds beyond 8 PM. Though you found the newly-imposed curfew ridiculous, given how there had been no cases in campus, you still abide it nevertheless. Except for tonight that is, as you had left your iPad at Sunoo’s club room. Since it had all the important notes from today’s lecture for an upcoming pop quiz, you decided to risk it — breaking into the South Wing and quickly retrieving it before the Student Union members, who would’ve usually be out patrolling by then, could catch you. 

Having quickly retrieved your iPad, your were just about to climb out the window which you had used earlier when you heard a bloodcurdling scream from the upper floors, followed by what sounded like furnitures getting knocked over. For any normal person, that should have been the queue to run off. But then again, you had always been an outlier with a sense of curiousity and fearlessness that is bound to get you into trouble one day — at least that was what Sunoo had always said about you.

“Screw it,” you muttered to yourself, walking away from the window towards the staircase. As you climbed up, you can start to hear the cacophony of noises more clearly: scuffles; furnitures dragged; and some sort whimper or cry. Then it all stopped and suddenly, all the courage left you. In the dark and stillness of the night, all you could hear was your quickening heartbeat and all you could see was either empty corridors with your own reflection on the windows.

You backed away, feeling deeply unsettled by the sudden stillness when suddenly, before you could descend down the stairs to go back, you felt yourself getting yanked back by a bony arm that has wrapped itself around your neck, putting you on a chokehold. You thrashed wildly, clawing on the person's arm, as your croaked, "le-let me go-go. I will scre-scream. There are people down the-there—"

You could hear the person scoff, seeing through your lie easily. You feel the person's other hand coming up to your head, stroking your hair tauntingly, while whispering menacingly close to your ears, “dead people can’t scream though.”

The next thing you knew, you had been pushed down the stairs, tumbling down several flights of stairs, twisting your hand in the process and hitting your head a few times against either the cold ground or the foot of the railing, before coming to a stop by the next landing. You groaned in pain as the back of your head hit the hard cement. Despite the pain, you forced yourself to sit up, panicking as the figure walked down the stairs at a glacial pace. Silhouetted, you can see that the person was a lanky man, with rather wide, yet bony shoulders. Terror-stricken, you were ready to take off again but to your horror, you couldn't feel your legs. You looked back up, horrified, when the man's lower face got momentarily illuminated as he passed by a window, his thin lips curving into a wry, malevolant grin, his tongue then making a quick slow swipe over his bloodied lips. You were immediately reminded of your nightmare.

You mustered every bit of strength left to back away, powering through the pain through gritted teeth but it was futile as he soon loomed over your body. Grabbing a fistful of your collar, he dragged you towards the end of the landing, letting you hover over the next flight of stairs, giving you a slight swing before letting go. You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing for the impact.

It never came.

You felt nothing and saw nothing for a prolonged period of time, before it all suddenly warp into a convoluted mess of dreams, nightmares and bad memories — like an acid trip — then abruptly ending when your eyes flew open.

Still in an almost fight and flight state from both the experience and the dream, you immediately sat bolt upright — panicking as you looked around the room, thinking you were still at the mercy of the murderous man. Instead of the darkness however, the room you were in was so brightly-lit and brightly-painted. Instead of the cold hard tile underneath you, you were sitting on a soft white bed. Instead of a murderous man holding you by the collar, Lee Heeseung, the Student Union President, was the one next to you, eyes lit up in relief as he exclaimed, “Finally! You’re awake!”

You stared at him blankly, confused. Is this a dream, you ruminated, was last night a dream?. After all, the Student Union President, who is also part of Sunghoon’s clique, would be the last person you would ever expect to be by your bedside.

“Where am I- why are y-" you stuttered, trying to fight through the pain that you felt all over. Heeseung quickly reached over, gently grasping both of your shoulders to prevent you from toppling over, “careful, you took a really hard tumble—"

Instinctively, you recoiled away from his touch, still traumatised over whatever you had experienced earlier. 

“Sorry,” he muttered, “I didn’t mean to - you just, you look like you were about to faint...”

You swallowed thickly, still eyeing him in suspicion, “what... what happened?”

“Well, we were patrolling and found you passed out cold at the base of the stairs,” he answered, his gaze remaining soft as if trying to reassure you that he meant no harm and that you are safe now, “brought you here immediately. Thankfully, the doctor said you suffered no major injuries, just a lot of bruises, a twisted wrist, and a small cut by the side of your head. You might have knocked it against the railing or something. But fortunately, they’re just some superficial cuts. Not sure how lon-“

“the girl —" you interjected as the memories from just now, or last night, or whenever the incident actually was, came rushing through, “what about the girl?”

Heeseung stared blankly at you, “what girl? you were alone.”

“No I wasn’t,” you replied adamantly, “there— there should have been someone else-"

"There were no one else, we-"

"No, there was a girl somewhere in the building. She- she screamed! I heard it!" you protested, "I followed the voice and then suddenly," you croaked, losing your voice, "suddenly there was this man and he-" you swallowed thickly, struggling, as your head begin to spin, "he pushed- he pushed me!"

"y/n, but there-"

"No listen, he pushed me!" you insisted, looking up at Heeseung, almost pleading, "I didn't tumble down. I was pushed. He- ouch-"

“Hey hey, take it easy,” Heeseung quickly rose up, looking worried as he beckoned you to lay back. You shook your head, insistent, "there should be someone else. Maybe he ran way and— and maybe he took her with him. Did you guys ev- "

"Look y/n, you did hit your head so maybe-"

“Are you seriously suggesting that my mind is playing tricks on me?” you scoffed, your tone more aggressive than you had intended, “just because I hit my head?”

"Look y/n, the fact is that we found you alone. I promise you, we scoured the whole building, the compound, the adjacent wings and even the nearby woods — no one was out there except for the ones patrolling and you," Heeseung sighed, rubbing his forehead before exhaling sharply, looking stern, "and frankly, no one should. It was curfew hours. You, of all people, should know the implication of it."

You opened your mouth, wanting to protest further but immediately stopped yourself as you now belatedly realised just how much trouble you are possibly in for being out during curfew hours. You sank back onto your propped pillows behind you, defeated.

"y/n... just rest up for now okay? I will keep you posted in case I uncovered anything that might relate to your sightings last night," Heeseung gave you a tight-lipped smile as he drew the cubicle curtains around your bed to lend you some privacy though he stopped short before closing it completely.

"y/n," he called out softly. When you looked up, the warm gaze and smile had disappeared as he cautioned, "I would advise you to not tell anyone about last night unless you want to get in trouble for loitering around during curfew hours. I covered for you last night saying that your body was freezing when I found you which meant you must have passed out before curfew hours. I can assure you however no one else, especially the staffs, would be as lenient if they knew the truth. Not even if you tell them about what you had allegedly see or hear, because without any physical evidence, it just sounds like excuses.”

With that he excused himself, leaving you alone, dejected and defeated, questioning your own memory, "what the hell is going on with me?"

vi: the lifesaver

Its been a few weeks and still, there had been no new updates about that night. No woman, no man, no body — just you, your memories and some fading bruises, which you’ve been diligently covering with turtlenecks and long sleeves. As days passed, the memory melded perfectly with your recurring nightmares, leaving you questioning your own memory and mind — all the while, the feeling of looming terror felt as if it was increasingly gnawing you from within, haunting you. Hence, you’ve sought solace in overworking yourself, staying cooped up in the library, head buried in books — all so you can distract yourself. 

Tonight however, your body was paying the price for having been overworking the past few days, pulling you into a deep sleep when you had only intended the nap to last for 15 minutes. You awoke, panic-stricken, seeing the floor you were on completely desolated. You quickly packed up, your mind on overdrive thinking of what excuses to give the guard or library staff when you pass them by in the lobby.

“Oh you’re awake?”

You screamed, backing against your table and knocking some books off the edge. It's been weeks, but you were still skittish from your last incident. Fortunately, it wasn't yet another maniac. You recognised the vest he was wearing — it was the one that the library guards always wore. You immediately apologised, “Sorry, really - I thought-"

“No, no,” the man quickly rushed over, bending down to help you pick your books up, “I should be the one apologising since I was the one who startled you.”

“No, I’m the one here during curfew hours...“ you sighed, bending down to also pick the books up when it suddenly dawned on you who the man was, “Yang Jungwon?”

His eyes lit up as he nodded excitedly, “for a second there I thought you had completely forgotten about me. Wouldn’t blame you though, I was gone for a long time.”

“Of course I remember you!” you assured him, “It’s just that… your hair. It’s black now. The red hair was pretty much your signature, wasn't it? it earned you that nickname 'The Flaming Tiger the Taekwando Club', right?"

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck shyly, “yeah, I dyed it back to black. Kind of preferring to keep a low profile now.”

“Well, I mean, with all the medals you’ve raked especially after you have gotten out of the hospital, I’m pretty sure you don't need the red hair to make yourself memorable in the Taekwando scene any more,” you concurred, “You’re really amazing you know that? Kicking back stronger after like a 3-week hospitalisation — how is that even possible? And now you're like part-timing as a guard here too.”

"Well, I've been having a hard time sleeping at night so part-timing during graveyard hours actually keeps me sane —anyway enough about me," Jungwon diverted, leaning against your table, "I heard so much about you as well. Heard you got straight A's last semester and is now co-authoring a paper with one of the University's highly-cited professor — come on now, your achievements are more worth praising then mine."

"Oh please stop being humble. Also the A was for a joint assignment so it's not really—" you trailed off, "shoot — they're coming," you gasped, hurriedly packing up as you saw two Student Union members in the compound, making their way towards the library, "well, it was nice catching up with you Jungwon but it's curfew hours and I've got to run. Can you do me a favour and pretend you didn't see me? Thanks!"

“No wait,” he suddenly called out ,grabbing your wrist and stopping you in your tracks, "you’ll get caught if you head that way. Come with me, I know a better way.”

You took the offer almost immediately — trusting Jungwon, who then led you skilfully through a maze of corridors and stairs, explaining how there is a secret passage in the basement — a tunnel — which leads you straight out to the backstreet, "so not only could you evade the 'Cerberus Knock-Offs' of campus, aka the Student Patrols, but if they find you, they can't really do anything since you're technically 'outside' of the campus grounds."

"Wow, it's like THE Yang Jungwon has gone rouge — where did the old uptight and stickler Jungwon go?" you remarked sarcastically as he pushed the heavy door, revealing a brightly-lit yet eerie-looking tunnel.

"Gone with the old shell," Jungwon quipped as he turned around, beckoning you to follow him. You hesitantly did, cautiously looking around the narrow passageway — feeling increasingly unnerved by the stillness, remoteness and desolation of it all, "why does the university need a tunnel any way? I mean, have you heard of how certain sanatoriums would wheel bodies discretely through tunnels back then? what if the same is happening here?"

"Why would the university be wheeling bodies though?" Jungwon gave you a quick glance before tinkering with the locks of the door at the end of the tunnel.

"I'm not saying it's the university," you clarified, suddenly reminded of your incident and the lack of evidence, "but what if the serial killer that's on the loose in town right now made it to campus — these passageways would just help him finish half the job don't you think?"

"You've always been so smart and sharp," Jungwon muttered as he rose up, his body turned towards you as he placed his hand on the crash bar of the door, his eyes narrowing, "but you should be careful with the accusations though, the staffs here are incredibly sensitive to it, fearing that such rumours would incite panic and paranoia, potentially jeopardising the university's reputation."

"But I'm not accusing," you retorted, "I actually he-" you stopped short, reminded of Heeseung's warning.

"Just saying y/n, you don't want to fly too close to the sun for you will get burnt," Jungwon cautioned as he pushed the crash bar with his elbow, his eyes still on you. Your brows knit in confusion at his cryptic words which you couldn't discern whether is a warning to you, or an advice. You can also see now, underneath the harsh lighting of the tunnel, how it wasn't just the hair that made him look and feel different. Particularly, he was skinnier and paler than you last remembered which, together with his sharp feline eyes and arched brows, made him look more intimidating. Feeling the weight of his gaze, you cleared you throat, breaking the eye contact, "I-uh should probably leave now."

"I've ordered a cab for you by the way," he beamed as you slipped outside, "it should be by the bend."

"You shouldn't have- but thanks Jungwon, I owe you twice tonight," you waved at him, "stay safe."

"you should be careful and stay safe too y/n," he replied back, waving at you.

Though thankful for his help, throughout your journey back home, you couldn't help but feel like Jungwon was hiding something.

vii: an ultimatum

“Hey Sunoo, did you remember that one case—" you stopped mid-sentence as you looked up from your phone, realising belatedly that the figure you saw from your periphery vision as you entered the Press Society Club Room was not Sunoo. You knew who it was almost instantaneously though even when he had his back against you: the tall stature; broad shoulders; thick black hair; dark get-up and of course, the air of arrogance. It was none other than Park Sunghoon.

As if hearing his name just being said aloud in your mind, he turned around, lips already curved into a conceited grin as he gestured towards Sunoo's board, “you guys have some interesting collage right here.”

“You have no business being here,” you said curtly. 

Scoffing, he cocked his head in the direction of the photo studio, “nope, but he does.”

Just then, Heeseung emerged out of the studio, carrying a bunch of pictures. Trailing closely behind him, was Sunoo, fuming, “give them back! they are ours!"

“Not anymore," Heeseung sighed, handing the pictures to Sunghoon instead, who clicked his tongue tauntingly as he look through the pictures, “listen, I'm actually doing you guys a favour here. If anyone else finds out about these morbid collections, you and Ni-Ki could become suspects immediately. Trust me, in the absence of any convincing leads — they'd lap it up. Even if they don’t, you guys will still get into trouble, for intercepting and for potentially tempering the scene.”

“But they never went close to the scene!” you quickly defended.

“And who can vouch for that?” Sunghoon derided, looking amused.

"This could put the university's reputation in jeopardy so I am putting a stop to it," Heeseung said adamantly.

“If you really care about the campus and its people, you’d know how important our work and progress is,” Sunoo snapped.

“Look, just because you are able to take a bunch of grotesque pictures and connect them with strings against a map on a board doesn’t mean you guys are making any important discovery,” Sunghoon scoffed, looking down condescendingly at Sunoo, "Just stick to Cluedo, kids."

“What the fuck is your problem,” Sunoo exploded, grabbing Sunghoon by the collar, looking as if he was ready to throw punches. Sunoo had always been the personafication of sunshine and peace but right then you can see how riled up he was from the way he glowered at Sunghoon, the way his fist clenched hard and the way his voice dropped a few octaves lower. He seemed almost like a different person. You couldn't help but quickly rush over, grabbing his arm, fearing that he would really let emotions get the best of him, "Sunoo, don't—"

"Aww," Sunghoon mocked, straightening up the crumpled lapel of his blazer, before turning to you, "you should've let him punch me. It might relieve his anger."

"I'm not stupid to let him get easily framed like that. Not by the likes of you," you snapped back. Sunghoon scoffed, chuckling, "I know you're not. But your blockhead of a friend definitely is. Not so bad for a guard dog though — at least he isn't all bark and no bite. Shame that he has never been around to run to your aid when you need it the most."

Your brows knit in confusion at his words, somehow picking up something in the way he said it.

"Sunghoon, cut it out," Heeseung said authoritatively as he grabbed the main door open before turning his attention back to you and Sunoo, "I'll send someone to confiscate everything as discreetly as possible and turn a blind eye to this just this once but if I found out that you guys are meddling in this case again, or even loitering during curfew hours for whatever reason — I'll report you guys straight to the dean. This applies to you too, y/n — I've already let you go once, remember that."

With that, they excused themselves, and as soon as the door closed, Sunoo sunk onto a nearby couch. While he covered his face with his arm, you could tell he angry and dejected he was — his chest heaving in anger, ears red, "this is fucking unfair," he croaked.

You couldn't help but feel some sort of guilt in the matter. The suddenness of it all and the way Sunghoon seemed to specifically rile him felt rather personal. As if it was done simply out of spite to you not for whatever noble reason that Heeseung just sprouted. "I'll be back, okay?" you assured Sunoo before you ran out the door, frantically looking around to find Sunghoon. Thankfully he hadn't gone far, just by the bend of the corridor,

"Park Sunghoon!" you called out, marching towards him. Again, as if expecting you, he already had that distasteful smirk on his face.

“Look, if you have a problem with me, then you should take it out on me not on the people around me,” you argued, seething, “Sunoo doesn’t deserve this. He worked hard on it.”

“Didn’t we tell you that it was for the best?” he repeated flamboyantly, his grin getting wider with every step he took towards you, “the efforts you guys are putting in are useless anyway and even if, say, you guys somehow solved it — you think the authorities will believe you guys? if anything, you guys will get into trouble for potentially disrupting their work and the scene. Even if you guys actually don't temper around, they will make it seem as if you guys did just to discredit you guys. Because come on, otherwise, they'd become the punching bag of town: authorities beaten by a bunch of campus kids."

“Cut that bullshit Sunghoon, I'm pretty sure you'd rather see us scapegoated and humiliated," you retorted, "What exactly do you want from stopping this?"

"Do you..." he drawled, taking slow steps towards you, biting his lips to suppress the grin that was blooming on his lips, " really want to know what I want?". You opened your mouth, ready to protest, but find yourself frozen as he brought his hand up to your neck, his cold fingers grazing the spot where your scar was. Your brows knit in confusion at his sudden touch — the familiarity of which was threatening to evoke something in your mind. It felt like those moments when you stopped short in doing whatever you were doing because a sensation reminded you of certain memory or a dream. You could feel your mind going on overdrive as it raked through you mind palace for a specific memory but failing, making you feel more disgruntled at the mystery of it all. As if noticing the effect he had on you internally, the corner of his lips tip up, forming a devilish grin, "you left your scarf didn't you? well, since your scar is healing pretty fast, I doubt you'd need it anymore—"

Alarmed at how he noticed the scar which you had so diligently covered all these while, you snapped out of it, shoving his hand away, "how did- mind your own business Sunghoon."

"you should be the one minding your own business y/n," he muttered icily, the smile faltering as he took steps closer towards you, his gaze darkening, "stop knocking on death's door, you're not invincible, just lucky. With your predisposition towards danger however, you're going to run out of them soon."

"What's it to you?" you remarked sarcastically, "thought we're strangers."

He bit lower lips as if restraining the smirk that was blooming on his lips, "you'd wish we were."

The next thing you knew, Sunghoon’s gaze darkened and almost instantaneously, you could feel your heart sink, as if knowing exactly what would follow. Within split seconds, he had cupped your face, his thumb caressing your lips, eyes boring into yours, the intensity searing. “Sunghoon, what are yo-“ you protested, palming his chest, trying to push him off, but it all somehow evoked a strong feeling of familiarity, just like earlier. Except, it had gotten too intense that you find yourself immobilised. All of a sudden, your vision went haywire, fading back and forth between reality and fragments of yourself in a similar setting – it was as if your hallucinations or nightmares were being superimposed into reality. The Sunghoon before you kept on fading into someone else — someone you couldn't properly identify as that man pressed his lips onto yours, devouring it with so much ferocity and hunger, that you find yourself struggling for air. When you were finally able to wedge a space in between, to your horror, it was Sunghoon all along. His tongue making a quick swipe over his lipstick-stained lips, eyes glazed with lust. Within split seconds, he was dipping his head closer to yours again, seeking to reattach his lips to yours. "No- get off!" you protested, blindly hitting him. When he caught your hands in his, the whole scene revert to normal, to the Sunghoon that was caressing your lips at the campus corridor.

You stared at him in a mix of horror and disbelief, disoriented and dizzy. Feeling your self-awareness and will back, you quickly shoved him away. "What was-" you panted, stammering, "that? what was that? what did you do?"

"What was what?" he smirked, backing away at a glacial pace, "I didn't even do anything. You're the one who froze up on me." Just like that, he just turned around and walked away, leaving you rooted on spot, still at loss. It all felt so vivid just now — like remembering a dream or a nightmare but instead of it simply being confined in your mind, it was superimposed into reality, taking over visually and emotionally, rendering you completely struck and helpless.

"y/n!"

You suddenly feel yourself wheeled around, it was Sunoo, looking concerned, "why aren't you responding? I was getting worried since you were gone for too lo-" he paused, noticing how pale you've became, your hands trembling, "hey, are you okay? did he do something to you?"

"Sunoo..." you muttered weakly, forlorn, "I think... I think something is wrong with me."

► Part 003

A/N: Hello everyone! thank you for reading hehe. In case the ending stumps you, fret not, there is a continuation to this. It was getting longer and I thought it would more coherent for it to be ended right here, the rest saved for the next part. That would also be more efficient for me too because as someone who is too perfectionist to a fault, the proofreading bit is taking almost as much effort and time as the initial drafting. Apologies if there are any incoherence and errors. English is after all not my first language. With that said, I hope you like this one as much as the 1st part and hope you'll still stick around for part #003 of Dancing with the Devil — I can assure you that there would be more revelations and more things developing there ;)

Taglist: @axartia | @my5colors | @elinushka-ka ((sorry if I missed out anyone!))

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