The Tummy…i Just Woke Up…im Gonna Go Into Hibernation Atp

till forever falls apart 𑁍ࠬܓ jake sim

pairing: widower!jake x fem!reader

genre: LOTS of angst like a lot, childhood friends to lovers, hurt/comfort/no comfort, some fluff here and there, coming of age, bittersweet ending.

word count: 8k words (or more..)

synopsis: jake came unto your life when you needed it the most. you didn’t expect it but he did and it all did happen on that one specific bench behind the beach you both grew up on, that one summer night. jake just had no idea you would slip through his fingers the way you did. and not that fast either.

warnings: character death, grief & loss, jake is a widower and has a daughter, unknown illness, mature language & cursing, low self worth, depression, mental break downs, fighting, marriage, mentions of seizures, hospitality, medication, just a lot of sad shit i’m so sorry in advanced.

a/n: here it is. mind you i wrote this with a heavy heart and a lot of thoughts in mind ( ; ω ; ) but either way i hope you all like this as much as i liked writing it. this is not proofread by the way, i apologize.

Jake’s feet were practically dragging. Everyone would probably have noticed that but in that moment, his biggest wish would probably be to erase everyone’s existence. He’s been living in his own shadow for felt like years. The only one he’s been vividly making eye contact with was his daughter and the florist he’s been going to for the past few months. Yet it felt for much longer. After all he was counting the days. With a heavy heart that was once filled to the brim with happiness and all the things he’s ever wanted.

The florist, a lady in her late fifties, always welcomed Jake with open arms and it was gestures like that, that made him feel smaller than ever. He wanted to return it, he really did but all he could do, was request the bouquet of flower he was in search for, with an even heavier heart. And if the words weren’t enough, he would point to that one specific section where they were kept. It usually didn’t take long since he memorized it.

Your favorite ones.

Peonies.

His mom called him before he left to buy those flowers. He was surprised with how different she sounded compared to him, or maybe it was because he was starting to forget how everyone sounded, especially those the closest to him. After all he was completely wrapped up in his own arms that felt far too empty and cold to the touch that he couldn’t help but let it happen. With his phone pressed to his ear, he let his mom do the talking while he was busy staring at nothing. More like the place where you used to sleep beside him and him basking in the comfort of your soft snores. You felt so close, so warm. You provided the warm that was missing and now he had to bask unto nothing but coldness. A lit up candle couldn’t even mend the wounds together. He had no idea how long he stayed on the phone with his mom for but at some point he could hear her sniffle and being in the state he was, he couldn’t ask her what was wrong. He was barely doing better himself.

And the call ended with him saying nothing and her saying it wasn’t his fault. The exact same thing she said the last time he saw her those many months ago.

He was debating whether to go check in on his daughter, knowing she would question the state he was. It wad the witty and her ability to be attentive and Jake knew she got that from you. He saw you right through her.

These were one of the days where he was far too deep unto the dark corners of his mindset where he didn’t bother with himself and how hard he was on himself. Jake almost breathed a sigh in relief when he saw his daughter still passed out in her bed, white sheets pulled up to her chin and tightly wrapped around her, the cloud lamp that you gifted to her on her fourth birthday, perfectly dimmed and casting a mellow glow over the roundness of her cheeks. Down on the floor, was Layla sleeping, with her resting on her front paws. The dog he got when he was ten, the one you raised with him.

This was one of the moments where Jake allowed himself to smile, a small smile without feeling bad for doing so.

Jake shook his head when he heard a voice briefly pull him out of his thoughts. His visions cleared and he saw the florist give him a sympathetic smile, probably sensing something, the grey hair framing her face in a way that matched her soft yet gentle features.

“Are you okay, young man?”

Jake was a bit taken aback but settled for a nod before eyeing the bouquet that the lady has managed to wrap up with obvious care.

It was like she saw right through him.

“I know what it’s like to lose someone.” She sadly smiled.

“These flowers,” She gestured to the Peonies, “They are for someone.. someone special, aren’t they?”

Gulping, Jake averted his eyes but still nodded.

“She was my everything,” He slowly forced out and he saw the lady perk up, “My childhood sweetheart, my best friend, my wife. And the mother to our daughter.”

“She was also basically everything I wasn’t yet she still made sure to remind me that she would love me no matter what. Her grip on my hand was tight until it wasn’t but even so, I knew she wouldn’t let go no matter what,” Jake swallowed back his urge to cry, but talking about her tugged at the strings holding him together. And he felt like the lady sensed that before she settled a old wrinkly hand on his shoulder.

The tears were already rolling down by then. Tears he’s been holding in all those months ever since.

“She sounded lovely,” Patting his shoulder, she continued, “I know she would’ve been proud of you especially for still being here, somewhere on the ground where she can look at you from afar,”

“I miss her, ma’am.” Looking up with bloodshot eyes, the lady offered another sympathetic smile, before handling him a tissue.

“I know, child.” She nodded, “I’m not saying you will overcome this grief soon or frankly ever. But you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. When you think about her, please do not always think about the negatives that comes along with it, think about the fact that out of everyone, you were the one she chose. Think about how she chose to love you even with all your flaws and how none of those things would ever change the way she saw you.”

Jake remembered the day. Clear and bright under the moonlight. He was eleven, fairly tall for his height with black strands that always fell over his eyes with how the wind always loved to mess with it. Everyone said that he had that soft look yet gentle demeanor look from his mom, he’s heard it so much to the point where he started believing them. After all his mom was a phenomenal woman.

Ever since dad walked out on both of them, mom has tried her hardest to raise him by herself despite her being young still. She was still in her youth and it was a sad sight to not see her do all the things people her age did. Travel the world, figure out themselves and planning their future without anyone standing in their way of doing so. Jake’s biggest fear was being in her way specifically, being a burden but the warmth from her embrace managed to tell him everything he needed to know. And so he tried his best to help her despite not knowing half of the things he did but he didn’t want his mom to cry anymore. He didn’t want her to downgrade herself and blame herself for things that were out of her control. He wanted her to go to bed with a gentle mindset and now all of the things that used to eat her up.

His mom went to sleep early that night and Jake promised himself that he would prep himself his own dinner and cut up some fruit for his mom since he knew she loved those, and then take out the trash.

Opening the gates, he dragged the plastic bag behind him before dumping it in the big green trash container. The summer nights were getting warmer and times like this reminded Jake off how much he loved it. Giving a toothy grin, he whipped his two hands on the front of his shorts before turning back to head inside, but not before casting a look over his shoulder.

There he saw someone. A few feet away from him.

At first, Jake had no idea what they were doing before walking closer. They were just. Sitting on the bench, in front of the beach. How odd.

“If you’re gonna stare, can you at least be less.. obvious with it?” The person asked, almost nonchalantly.

It was a girl.

Jake didn’t respond, fear of embarrassing himself further so he settled for walking closer to her before taking a seat beside her. So this was what she was doing, just looking at the waves. This late at night?

The young boy scratched behind his head with a small chuckle, “Sorry.. I didn’t think you would notice me,”

She casted him a side eye look before rolling her eyes.

“You’re not exactly quiet.”

And then she turned to stare back at the beach’s many waves. The stars glimmering in reflection with the water. It was beautiful, he couldn’t deny that.

He never bothered looking at where she was looking. But instead he decided to take her in. She was dressed in a white nightgown with a scruff at the end and at the ends of the sleeves, her hair wasn’t tied up or anything but fell behind her shoulders due to the wind, pointy nose, eyelashes casting a dim shadow on her the top of her cheeks which were a bit flushed due to the not too chilly breeze.

Jake might’ve been young but he wasn’t young enough to not know was beauty was when he saw it. And this might have been the prettiest girl he’s ever laid his eyes on. She might’ve been as beautiful as his mom.

“You really have a staring problem,” She told him, amusement evident in her voice.

“What!” Jake shook his head before scooting away from her, “What is that even supposed to mean!”

“Hmmm…” The still unknown girl tapped her chin lightly.

“It means you stare too much. My mom says that stuff will have you go blind.”

So this was how she wanted to play.

“Well, she’s wrong!”

He knew he hit a sensitive spot when the girl before him gaped lightly at what he said before huffing. He felt the panic dwell in and he was about to apologize before he heard her burst unto a fit of laughter.

“You should have seen the look on your face!”

Jake knew that day, that her laughter, that sound was his favorite melody of all time.

⋆

If anyone asked what you thought of Jake, the first thing that immediately came to your mind was — an oddball.

It didn’t add more to it when you both lived in the same neighborhood. Only two houses away from each other. To add more to it, your mom and his mom knew each other since they used to go to the same highschool together. They both suffered from the loss of their husbands, with yours dying before you were even born, which meant you had no idea who he was. So you lived off your mom’s words about him, the picture frames around the house and the photobooks your mom kept in a small box in the basement.

It was like your moms’ relationship drew you closer to Jake and now that you took a closer look at him, he wasn’t so bad and he wasn’t as irritating as the other boys in your class. The ones who said girls had cooties and girl disease. In fact, you took a hold of how Jake wanted or more so, looked forward to spending time with you any chance he got. He also came by a lot especially after school asking for you. You were pretty sure your mom held some kind of favoritism towards him because she never wasted a breath when it came to the boy with the brightest eyes you’ve ever seen. And before you knew it, you warmed up to him. It didn’t take long but it wasn’t fast either. You were a girl with a lot of things on your mind and frankly, you were just perfectly fine in your own world and peace. But Jake managed to add something to that. You had no idea what or how, but he did.

“Y/N look!”

You looked up from how absentmindedly you were coloring in a butterfly, when you saw Jake running towards you..

With a dog? On a leash?

You sat up with a slight gasp at the sight out of the creature and before you knew it, the dog hopped on you leaving gentle but happy licks all over your face.

“Layla, no!” Jake yelled sternly.

Holding up your arms, you tried blocking them away with a loud laugh before you settled for petting her. Not before pushing her away tho.

“Oh my,” The boy before you sighed in distress, a hand coming up to wipe the sweat off his forehead. “I’m so sorry about that Y/N. She’s still a puppy, so she’s full of energy,”

“Don’t apologize,” You shake your head before allowing Layla to take up the space on your lap for some more scritches.

“But I’m kinda mad, why didn’t you tell me you had a dog!”

“Umm…” Jake giggled sheepishly, “I actually just got her a few days ago. I was gonna tell you eventually..”

You gasped in mock offense before picking up a coloring pencil to throw at him.

“Hey!”

“You could’ve still have told me!”

“I was going to!”

Your bickering stopped by Layla jumping off your lap and running around the both of you in circles, indicating she wanted to play and have some energy spent. As if she hasn’t done that already.

“We we’re actually planning on going to the beach,”

Jake saw the way your eyes lit up and he couldn’t help the quick stutter his heart did. What was this feeling?

“Really? Can I join?”

“That was the plan, silly,”

Dusting off your lap from Layla’s jump earlier, you were about to stand up before two hands grabbed yours. Gently, they pulled you up to your feet and then gently let go. Almost as if knowing what was going on, Layla looked back and forth between the two young humans in front of her, before she barked to gather their attention.

“Oh! Uh, she’s getting impatient, we should go,” Jake quickly mumbled out before picking up his dog’s leash off the where he dropped it in the grass.

“Wait!” You looked back at your house before looking back at your friend.

And by then, Jake already knew what was stirring up your hesitation. He smiled at you reassuringly.

“I already told your mom. She said dinner will be done by the time you’re home.”

You could finally let out the breath you’ve been holding.

“Plus your mom loves me,” Jake quipped teasingly.

The young boy laughed at your eye roll and before you both knew it, you were both running, along with Layla down to the beach, with the dog before the both of you barking profusely with a hint of excitement. The whole afternoon was just you and Jake by each other’s side, with his dog running back and forth in the water. She even shook all of her water from her fur at both of you at some point to the point where you both were on the sand rolling around, both of your laughters mixing together that mingled in the sky above off you. It added more to the memories and you both knew you would be thinking about that day till the day you both grew old and wrinkly.

You knew that day, that you wouldn’t wanna spend days like these with anybody but with Jake.

⋆

Years went by, things blossomed and so did your bond with Jake.

It went from meeting him to that one random night on the beach, to you finding out you lived just barely away from each other, to you starting classes together properly after your mom’s job paid her enough for that to happened. You remember the sheer happiness when she told you that and how much that meant to younger you. You weren’t isolated by any means, in fact, your mom encouraged you to check the world for yourself. But you would rather have things done at your pace, so that’s what you did. Luckily she understood and you were beyond thankful.

You also noticed changes about Jake. At some point you and him were the same height, but ever since highschool hit, he’s grown like a head, almost two heads taller than you. He’s grown his fringes out, even at some point dyed it through the school years to the point where you had no idea how many times he did it. You remember one time dyeing it for him tho and that shit was a complete disaster and you wouldn’t have blamed him if he wanted to bald that way. You were still attached to the hip pretty much.

But something that has been coming back to biting you, was that you had no idea where you and Jake’s relationship were interlinked at. You were both seniors in highschool now and things were rocky. God forbid your younger self thought that growing older would result in you being able to talk about your feelings and emotions better, but no. You realized that wasn’t the case. There was definitely something holding you back. You just didn’t wanna come to terms with what it was. Running a hand through your head, you plopped down your bed, arms and legs spread out.

“Y/N?” You suddenly heard someone knock on your door before a head peeked in.

“Did you remember to take your medication?” She asked before stepping foot unto your room.

“Mom.. we already talked about this,”

“You can’t just keep pushing me away,” She insisted

You huffed before sitting, “Can’t we talk about this later please? I have to study for an upcoming exam. I promise I’ll take them later,”

“Y/N—“

“—Mom please..” You looked away from her, voice wavering, “Don’t make this harder than it already is.”

You heard her sigh, before footsteps and the sound of your door being closed.

Reaching out for your phone on your bedside, your first instinct was to text Jake. But you knew the sound of his voice was exactly what you needed right now. More than anything. Hovering your thumb over his Caller ID, you slowly started debating if this really was a good idea. Now that you think about it, you and Jake haven’t really talked much due to busy schedules, and you’ve also noticed him confiding comfort in a group of friends you’ve never talked to before, while you had a group of friends of your own.

You missed him. And it was eating you up from the inside.

“Fuck it,” You whispered before dialing his number.

The ringing was not a fit match for how quick your heart was beating, it was practically beating out of your chest and you didn’t like it. Not one bit. But you couldn’t deny in how much need you were of his voice. It was almost embarrassing.

He still had no idea.

“Y/N?”

You smiled. After all this time, his voice was still your favorite tune.

“Hi Jake..”

“Y/N? Hey. Is everything okay?”

“Why do you always assume that something’s wrong?” You giggled and even tho you couldn’t see his face, you knew his face was definitely scrunched up in his one infamous frowns.

“Well, I’m sorry for caring I guess,”

“No you’re not,”

“You’re right, I’m not.”

The same old Jake.

“I miss you, y’know?” He finally spoke up, “I feel like I barely see you anymore.”

“I’m still here, Jake. Life has just.. been busy you know—“

“—Y/N, no,”

You heard some shuffling on the other side of the line, before a dejected sigh.

“It’s because I barely see you anymore. Even your friends are worried about you. You’re still at school, I know you are because I know you wouldn’t miss any of your classes no matter how busy or tired you are but you always disappear so quickly after..”

“Like is there something you aren’t telling me?”

You wanted to tell him.

You wanted to tell him so badly but you couldn’t bear the thought of seeing the look on his face when you did. He would be crushed and you wouldn’t be able to forgive yourself for that.

“Nothing is wrong. Everything is fine. Why wouldn’t they be?”

“Y/N—“

“No y’know what? I actually called you because I needed you and now you throw this on me—You and my mom are exactly the same. You both say the same shit and it’s pissing me off,” Not wasting a second thought, you hung up before throwing your phone on your bed, silent tears rolling down your face.

You went to sit on the bench by the beach the same day, after you heard your mom went to bed. Pulling up your knees closer to yourself, you were silently beating yourself up for not wearing something warmer. Though, you were eyeing your jacket, more or so Jake’s jacket that was hanging around your chair but decided not to take it at last minute.

Wrapping your arms around your knees, you took a look up at the night sky. The moon was seeking it’s place behind some dark clouds, the stars were doing their own things, the wind was getting colder. It was as if everything was going by slower? Or faster? You were not sure anymore but you knew it’s been an push and pull trick ever since that day.

Would it be too early to give up now?

“I knew I would find you here.”

“You can’t keep running away from us, from me, Y/N. I won’t let that happen,”

You turned your head, tears slowly starting to brim your eyes again. You didn’t want him to see you this way. Then there is a sudden pressure on your shoulders and by now you knew Jake has wrapped your upper body up in his jacket, with him now in his white sweatshirt and black plaid pajamas pants. He wasn’t expecting any response from you, in fact, he was just happy to be in your presence and not you running away nor pushing him away.

“I won’t force you to say anything,” He slowly sits down, the space beside you always available for him. There hasn’t been a day where it hasn’t been.

“But.. I hope you know you can talk—“

“I don’t have a lot of time, Jake,”

The first pen drop.

When you didn’t receive any response, you turned your head and hoped for the worst. Jake was still staring forward, towards the waves and how more far away they suddenly sounded.

“I only have two years left.”

That made him turn his head to look at you. The look in his eyes made your heart drop. In all these many years you’ve known Jake, you have never seen him look like this, so empty, so hollow of thoughts, so broken and if you weren’t such a mess yourself, you would have tried to pick up pieces back together. But what was it worth if you couldn’t even pick up your own? Staying alive at this point felt like a chore, a walk even down to the beach sometimes took all the air out of your lungs if you didn’t take your medications.

You managed to catch the tear you saw roll down his cheek with the soft pad of your thump. He gripped your wrist in his hand when he felt it about to retreat and held it up to his cheek, fearing you would disappear faster if he didn’t. Your warmth was all he needed now. Jake hated asking for too much but he wanted to be selfish for once, right now.

“I’m sorry,” You shook your head, feeling the tears roll again, “I should’ve told you. But this was what I was fearing for. Seeing your reaction, seeing the look on your face especially after—“

Feeling a warm gentle hand cupping your cheek, you felt your words get caught in your throat when you took in the way he looked at you now. There was still sadness lingering but you really couldn’t put a finger on what the rest was. But that didn’t really occur your mind. You just needed him to say something.

“Jake, please say something..” You begged, voice cracking, “Yell at me, scream at me, anything!”

You failed to see the way he moved closer.

“Especially for the way I’ve been treating you. That’s the least I deserve,” Pushing at his chest, you couldn’t help but let more tears roll, the place on your lap a sea of your own sorrows by that point

“Why are you looking at me like that, Jake please—“

Your hands faltered their pushing on his chest when you felt something soft yet wet on your lips. Closing your eyes which were still filled with tears, you pushed yourself closer and basked in the gentle kiss that belonged to him.

It was always him.

You knew it by now, you knew it ever since your first encounter on that one night at the beach, at the exact same place where you were at now.

⋆

A lot has changed, with how low your energy has gotten, you couldn’t bring yourself to attend to classes psychically anymore. And by what your personal doctor has said, any stress can trigger the most especially in the state you’re in right now and nobody, especially your mother wouldn’t ever wanna take that risk. So you settled for going to school but at home instead, in the walls of your room. Your routine has gotten progressively more straightforward than what it usually was. You were drained and the eye bags under your would tell anyone a story that you, yourself wouldn’t be able to, lips chapped and peeling. You could barely recognize the sight of yourself anymore.

Jake was walking around with a heavy heart. You were finally his but at what cost? These past weeks has just been him lingering by your side more and more each day to the point he might practically live at your place now. Frankly, he wasn’t doing better himself. He was beating himself up for making everything seem like your fault when nothing was ever your fault to begin it. The world was just too cruel to make space for someone as precious and as delicate as you, the world never deserved you. Jake can’t count the amount of times he’s managed to utter those words to you, while trailing his browns over your features, with your hands interlocked under the sea of stars and crescent moon. And he memorized your reaction to his words each time. You were really the most endearing piece of art to him.

He knew you were trying. You even told him you were so he wouldn’t worry too much, you would fe your ribs construct whenever you saw the way he was trying so hard to keep himself from breaking down when he felt the warmth from your hands, from your body slowly leave your body day by then. All that warmth that you usually provided, was all gone. All the warmth he would confide in whether it was after a stressful day after of classes, work or the insignificant days where he got unto an argument with his mother. He was seeking for your warmth everywhere he went.

Yet Jake held unto the last amount of warmth you had left. That was all he could do.

“Jake,” He heard his mother’s voice speak up before he felt her shake his shoulders, obviously trying to wake him from his afternoon nap.

“I’m up, I’m up,” Groaning he sat up and was met with his mom’s frantic pacing.

He gave her a confused look.

“Mom—?”

“It’s Y/N,” She breathed out, “Her mom just called from the at the hospital..”

“Apparently she had a seizure,”

That was then Jake felt his whole world collapse.

This couldn’t be..

“B-But how.. I.. She was okay when I saw her last day..” He felt his breath getting stuck along with his world. This couldn’t be. His mom didn’t say anything but instead pulled him unto his arms and that was where Jake allowed himself to break down fully. Without any care in the world. You were getting further and further away each day and he had no idea how to cope with it. He was angry, frustrated, why was he letting this happen? Why couldn’t he have done more? For you?

You deserved everything, but this.

⋆

“I will miss seeing the stars,”

Even with a light hoarse lilt to your voice, it still sounded soft and gentle in Jake’s ears. Like it always has. You were wearing a soft smile when looking at the stars from the hospital window, that never seemed to falter when you turned to look at him.

“I know you will, my love.”

Your smile faltered when you noticed that he was in deep in thoughts. He always we’re but this time it wasn’t out of sheer sadness and distress but more like.. he was bashful?

“Is something bothering you, my Jake?”

He didn’t respond but from the corner of your eyes, you saw him pull out a small black velvet box. You gasped.

“I know we’re still young and all but..” He says carefully, “But you’re probably the only person I’ve ever felt this sure with. This secure with and I honestly couldn’t have asked for someone better,”

Slowly opening the box, there was it. A ring. A silver ring littered with small diamonds on the sides, with the biggest one being shaped in a crystallized star. You looked up and you realized Jake hasn’t looked away from you once, trying his best to read your reaction and body language, making sure he hasn’t been overstepping anything.

“I know you hate asking for much, just like I do but..”

“Jake I..” You shake your head, eyes wide, “It’s beautiful..”

Taking out the ring from the box, he gently took your hand before slipping the ring on before bringing it up to seal it with a kiss to your knuckles.

“You don’t have to say anything.. I know that—“

“My Jake, of course I wanna marry you..”

⋆

Jake woke up startled to the someone knocking on his front door. Automatically he reached beside him but was met with nothing but the cold sheets.

Heaving another deep sigh from his chest, he slipped on slippers before walking downstairs, careful not to wake up his daughter. He was met with Layla who was pressing her snout against the door, curious herself, tail slightly wagging before letting out a small bark at the sight of her owner

“Hey girl,” He cooed with a scratch to the canine’s head, “Be quiet now, wouldn’t wanna wake anyone up would we?”

Honestly, Jake had no idea what he was expecting when opening the door but..

“Mrs. Y/N?”

“Hi son..” She muttered, “I hope you’re doing okay. Look, I-I don’t have much time but this morning I came across this while cleaning up in Y/N’s room and found this,”

The woman gave a careful smile and that was then he noticed a small envelope in her hand.

“I was about to open it but I think it was meant for you,”

Carefully taking the letter, he examined it before turning it around where he noticed something written in messy yet distinguished writing.

‘For him <3’

⋆

‘Dear you,

I don’t know what this letter will be when you receive it but I hope it lands safely in your hands.

Life hasn’t been easy and to be honest, I never expected it to be. You and I both know that. But what I do know is that you’ve made my life easier. I don’t know if that has do with the solace from your words or the stars from your eyes. But in me somewhere, I knew you changed my life for the better. I can’t think of a person who’s made me laugh and smile as much as you have, I think that itself alone is impossible if you ask me.

I hope you aren’t too hard on yourself. And if you are, a reminder that I never wanted you to be and neither does your mother and our daughter. I may not be here when you read this so please think about them when life gets hard and when you can feel yourself shift the blame on yourself for all the things that was never your fault to begin with. I didn’t ask for how my life turned out, neither did you. None of us did. Life just has some dwelling sometimes and at some point, they like to take it out on one of us.

It’s not fair. I know.

But I hope you can look up at the stars and see me.

I will always be here with you.

Your, Y/N L/N.’

taglist: @karinasbaby @nishions @hittoki @superbbananananana @mimizen127 @jjunie-0 @ghostiiess

2024 © fariest, do not copy, modify or post my work to other sites

Masterlist.

Perv!Heeseung

Manners.

Tight.

Blessings. Part Two

Heeseung Chubby Reader Ask

Bridgerton Heeseung

Step brother Heeseung

non-sexual dominance w/ Heeseung .

Plaything

Training.

Angel.

Cherub. Ask about Cherub

Random Tropes about Jay

Soft.

Daddy!Jay fucking you into subspace

Decisions

Lessons.

nsfw Jake Link

Sunghoon x Jake threesome ask

Plush.

Step-brother!Jake and his best friend Heeseung

Cupcake.

Cravings.

Sunghoon x Jay Ask

Tiny.

Sunghoon x Chubby reader ask

Behave

Step brother Sunghoon

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Multi/Random Thoughts

Men who use “unorthodox” ways to show you’re his…

men who treat you like a cocksleeve

Men who help you reach your special spots

౨ৎ ROUGH PATCH

──── 𝗂𝗍 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖺’𝗌 𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗄.

2024 pairing. poly!ot7엔하 x fem!member oc cw. illness & injury, fan mobbing, claustrophobia, brief mention of suspected violence, not proofread req. mila hiding bruises from the boys. ❨ back to LIBRARY ?! ❩

IT WAS LIKE DEJA VU. Mila had foolishly that maybe she would be able to go one day without the feeling of being suffocated — without feeling like her head was held underwater and her hands were tied behind her back. She hadn’t learned her lesson: to never underestimate the power of her fans.

“Out of the way!” Mila’s manager held an arm around her shoulder, keeping her as close as possible to avoid the hands that reached out to her. And yet, it was fruitless — she could feel them on her clothes, on her hair, any part of her that they could touch. She jolted when one of them landed dangerously low on her back, and she resisted the urge to cry as another managed to grab her arm with a death grip, before her manager was able to pull her away.

There was no room to breathe. The parking lot felt no bigger than an elevator, with people crowding her and her staff in from all sides. A flash of a camera caused her to flinch, and the sounds of people screaming her name overlapped each other and became loud ringing in her ears. The heat of her body was not cooled by the perspiration that slid down the skin of her neck and face, but instead served to suffocate her more as it dampened her clothes. Her limbs felt like lead weighing her down and even breathing became difficult to do.

Mila could feel her eyelids start to drop. Her manager’s arm tightened around her as her legs became weak, threatening to buckle under her weight.

How ironic, she thought. She came to the doctor’s to get better, but it looked like doing so was only going to make her health worse.

“Move out of the way! Get away!”

Mila stumbled as fans pushed into each other, before tripping over each other’s limbs and falling to the asphalt. There was more screaming and flashing cameras, but at least this time Mila was able to see the company van through the mob, just a few feet away. She could make it. She just had to hold on a little bit longer.

But she could feel herself slipping away, black spots covering her vision, her breaths short and shallow. She could vaguely hear the sound of her manager was opening the door, covering her back as she stepped into the vehicle and telling her something. But she couldn’t quite make out the words, his voice muffled like she was underwater and water was filling her ears. It took everything in her just to make the step into the backseat, before she was collapsing onto the leather seat.

The last thing Mila saw before she let her eyes fall shut was the sight of flashing cameras, against the tinted windows, and the screams of her name.

By the time Mila woke up, it was to the sound of muffled voices and the feeling of someone softly caressing her hair.

“What did the doctor say?” came Kiara’s voice.

A sigh that Mila recognised as her manager’s followed his question. “She’s feeling weak from over exertion. She has a Vitamin C deficiency, which is why she’s alway getting tired recently…”

Heeseung exhaled deeply through his nose. “And what about those people who crowded her at the doctor’s building? What happened to them?”

There was a pause. “You know we can’t do anything about them.”

“What sort of bullsh—”

Mila chose that moment to let her eyes flutter open to see Jongseong’s gentle eyes as they regarded her awakened state. “Hi, Angel.”

Mila groaned, unable to form words. Before she could say anything, Jongseong was being nudged aside by Heeseung, who took his place by her bedside, eyes full of worry as his hand gently cradled her face. In another situation. “How are you feeling? Are you hurt anywhere?”

Mila furrowed her eyebrows. Ah, Mila thought. Right. She had been mobbed by a group of fans at her doctor’s appointment, which the public should have even been aware of. She took a second to gather her surroundings: she was in her room and lying in bed, meaning she must have been carried inside. She still felt heavy, but at least the migraine from when she was being surrounded by manic fans had subsided. She could acutely feel pain in her limbs, but she brushed it off as being a side effect of overexerting herself.

She shook her head, smiling gently at the older male. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

Heeseung sighed in relief, before bidding his head. “Okay. Then gets me sleep, okay? I’ll be here with Jongseong if you need anything.”

Mila hummed. But she couldn’t muster the strength to reply. It didn’t even take a second after she closed her eyes before she fell into darkness again. But even then, she could still recognise the voices of her boyfriends and her eonnie as they spoke to each other.

“I should have gone with her…”

“You couldn’t have known what was going to happen, Heeseung-ah. Don’t blame yourself.”

Mila wanted to agree, to reassure him and let him know that he wasn’t to blame — that Mila was simply having a bad day. But she couldn’t. She was already fading into deep slumber before she could utter a word.

Mila was alone when she opened her eyes again. But she couldn’t feel upset about it — not when pain shot up her limbs when she tried to sit up, an ache spreading through her body. She winced, clutching her side, only to flinch back when the pressure caused another age of pain to shoot up her body.

“What even?” Mila cursed as she lifted her top, only to spot a large purple bruise blooming across her ribs. Figures. Her Vitamin C deficiency would have made her vulnerable to bruising, and the fan mobbing from earlier was more than enough stimulus to cause injury — what, with all the limbs falling everywhere as she tried to make her way through the crowd, barely conscious.

She pulled up her pyjama sleeve. More bruises. She pulled up the leg of her pants — and of course, there were even more. And when she looked at the spots, she could still feel the phantom touches lingering on her — especially the ones that had gotten too close for comfort. It was like there wasn’t a single part of her body that remained unaffected by the wondering hands of total strangers that were doing everything in their power to get as close as physically possible.

And for what? What could they have possibly gained from it? (She shuddered to think about what would happen if there was someone there with evil intentions.)

Mila sighed. She thought she would have been more frustrated… But she couldn’t even find the strength to do so. All she could do was lie back down on her pillows, staring up at the ceiling as she pondered her situation.

It seemed like nothing was going her way these past few days. She had back to back promotions to attend to, including filming for a variety show and a radio talk show, followed immediately by an opening event, and then another photoshoot for her brand endorsements. She barely managed to make it through the past week, but now the exhaustion she felt from constantly working, day in and day out, caught up to her, and she found herself unable to even lift a spoon without faltering.

It was frustrating. Not being able to do what she usually did, feeling helpless as she watched her boyfriends run around and attempt to assist her with duties that she should have been able to do on her own. But it was even more annoying after today, hearing Heeseung blame himself for something that was never his fault.

She wished that she hadn’t gotten sick in the first place. She wished that she’d have been more resilient. But now she was causing everyone to worry about her, and she didn’t even want to think about what would happen if they found out about the bruises that were littered across her skin.

“Who is it?” Mila squinted her eyes. She woke up in the middle of the night when she felt another figure slip into her bed, before arms wrapped around her. She smiled when she realised who it was. “It’s just me.”

“It’s just me,” Riki whispered. “The hyungs said not to disturb you but I missed you.”

Mila hummed as she reached up and caressed the top of the younger male’s head, doing her best to make sure his arms didn’t come into contact with her bruises. It had been a while since she was able to cuddle, and she admitted that she missed the warmth that the tall boy provided.

“Are you doing okay?”

Mila nodded, biting back a wince when Riki hugged her closer to him. “I’m fine.”

But it wasn’t. Not really. And there was only so long before it became obvious.

“Yah, what’s this?” Mila was jolted out of her thoughts when a hand grabbed her wrist, pulling up the sleeve of her jumper to reveal spots of blue littered across the length of her pale skin. Sunghoon’s eyebrows furrowed, his eyes snapping to Mila’s for an explanation. “Where did this come from?”

Mila had been careful not to let anyone see the injuries that she discovered on herself, and she had thought she would at least be able to keep up the act until they faded. But as it happened, it hadn’t even been a day. And really, she should have expected as much — nothing escaped her boyfriend’s notice when it came to her. It only took her flinching slightly when Sunghoon gently squeezed her bicep before his eyes had narrowed in suspicion.

Mila opened her mouth to explain, not wanting him to worry, but instead, she ended up getting cut off by someone else.

“What’s wrong?” Jungwon peered over Sunghoon’s shoulder, before gasping, his eyes widening in shock. They scanned over her skin before landing on Mila’s face. Voice shaking, he asked, “Noona, what are these?”

“I just got them from bumping into people,” Mila said hurriedly, recognising the tone in his voice. “It’s nothing serious.”

“‘Nothing serious?’” Sunghoon repeated incredulously as he joined the others. By now, the others had crowded around Mila to get a look at what was happening, and all had been in shock to see the bruises on Mila’s arm, before it then shifted into worry… and perhaps, maybe even fear.

Heeseung had a stern expression. He lifted her arm slightly, though still careful not to pull too hard or for his fingers to accidentally apply pressure to the purple spots. “This doesn’t seem ‘serious’ to you?” His eyes bore into Mila with a desperation evident in his gaze, serving as a thin veil to his anger. (Not towards her, though — and that was honestly more worrisome.) “Answer me properly: who did this?”

Mila opened her mouth and closed it again. She didn’t sense any anger in his voice or his tone, instead all she could find was panic — and the look made something in her gut drop with guilt. She could briefly see Riki’s conflicted expression from where he stood behind Heeseung, and Sunoo looked as if he had seen a ghost.

She felt hands on her face, bringing her attention back to Jongseong. “Please,” he said, “don’t hide this from us.”

Mila sighed. “I don’t know… There were just too many people there, and I didn’t know who was who…” The boys were silent as the words sunk in. “But it wouldn’t have been this bad if it weren’t for my Vitamin C deficit. It wasn’t that anyone intentionally hurt me or anything… I just happen to bruise easily these days.”

There was a pause. For a second, Mila thought she was going to be scolded, but instead, she was pulled into a firm chest, as a large palm cradled the back of her head. Jaeyun was careful not to hold her too tightly, but still firmly enough that Mila was engulfed in his warmth. “Damn it, don’t scare us like that.”

Heeseung sighed, reaching up to hold a hand against his forehead. Jungwon glanced at him before looking back at Mila. “Next time, please don’t hide this from us,” he said with a frown. “I honestly thought my heart stopped for a second.”

Sunoo furrowed his eyebrows, his worried eyes skimming over Mila’s revealed skin. There weren’t any words to describe how much his heart hurt seeing Mila’s sickened state these past few days, but seeing those bruises had caused his heart to drop in his stomach in fear — a fear he recognised on the day they got the news of the mob who crowded her on her way back from her doctor’s appointment.

He wasn’t the only one, either. They had all reached a similar conclusion: What if someone really got their hands her that day? What if they hurt her? What if — goodness forbid — she had been alone that day and didn’t have anyone by her side? No bodyguards, no manager, no members… Just her against a mob of crazed “fans” who would do anything to be close to her, no matter the lengths they had to take?

For a second, Jongseong really thought he was going to lose all control of his sanity. He couldn’t even imagine Heeseung or Sunghoon’s feelings; just the news alone of the fan mob was enough to make them clench his fists in anger, as if ready to strike — but if something were to actually happen? If things turned out worse than they did?

Jongseong didn’t want to think about it.

“Still, how could it be this bad?” Sunoo asked. “You look like someone…”

It looked like someone had hit her. And that thought alone made him sick to the stomach, and his eyes sting with tear.

“I promise that wasn’t the case. Really. The worse that happened was someone grabbing onto my arm, but manager pulled me away before anything happened.” Mila raised her arms, and he fell into them immediately. “I’m sorry for worrying you.”

“Don’t apologise.” Riki placed a hand on Mila’s head like he was too scared that she might break with the slightest touch. “We just want you to be okay.”

Mila nodded. She looked around at her boyfriends, a sense of heaviness in her chest. It hurt more seeing them this heartbroken, than it did to be bruised, and she really wished they never had to experience sadness in their lives. But it was only natural that these things happened. At the very least, they were together.

“Group hug?” Mila asked, opened her arms to the rest of them. They looked sceptical at first, clearly wondering over the severity of her injuries, but Mila reassured them with a smile. “I promise I’ll tell you if it hurts.”

That seems to ease their worries, because next thing Mila knew, she was being held in the centre of seven boys. She only wished Kiara was with them, to complete the Enhypen group huddle, but the older female was filling in for a schedule that Mila had to miss because of her illness. (She would have to inform the older girl later of what happened, if only to prevent her for panicking if she got the report from anyone else.)

“It won’t happen again,” Heeseung whispered into her ears. “I promise I won’t let anyone hurt you, okay?”

Mila smiled. “I know.”

“None of us will,” Sunghoon said. “That’s a promise.”

It was impossible for her to live as an idol, and to be safe. This was the first or last time she would find herself in a situation like this. But somehow, she felt like she could believe them when they said it with so much conviction. And if she could, she would do her best to protect them as well.

“We’ll look after each other,” she said. Just as they always did.

By the time they pulled away from the hug, she was already being ‘treated’, watching with a small smile as their young leader blew on her bruises, placing gentle kisses along them. “So they get better,” Jungwon said with a cute smile, and Mila felt her heart melt.

“Let me, too!” Riki said, before repeating the same actions. His hyungs simply chuckled, watching with fond smiles as their maknaes took turns playing nurse.

Mila couldn’t say that the past few days were good ones. But at times like this, things didn’t seem so bad after all.

✉️ NOTE. just a little mini chapter that came to mind… it was more of practice to get back into writing longer works, bc i’ve only done drabbles so far since recovering my account and i cooks had the training lol 😆 so please do excuse if the quality isn’t as good as usual 🥸

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— i

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And if you’re right?”

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

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

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

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

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

But you were wrong.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not human.

You were correct, after all.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That was when it hit you.

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

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

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

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

— ii

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s not—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And yet you trust me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— iii

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“—prick,” you muttered under your breath.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Pass?”

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

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

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

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

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

“y/n?”

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

You turned sharply, and your breath caught.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— iv

“Wine?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Park Sunghoon.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You barrelled straight into something—or rather, someone.

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

It wasn’t one of them.

It was Sunghoon.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But they—”

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

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

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

— v

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You frowned. “Noctis what now?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Excuse me?”

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

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

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

Your stomach twisted. Sunghoon.

You mumbled a distracted thanks.

Of course, he is also invited.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your resolve solidified in that moment.

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

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

— vi

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

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

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

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

“A manor?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It felt like preparation.

— vii

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They were too graceful. Too perfect.

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

“y/n!”

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

Sunoo.

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

But then—

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

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

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

Then—

A hand seized yours.

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

“I’m sorry, I’m not—”

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

Park Sunghoon.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then, something caught your attention.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck—what the heck, Park Sunghoon?!”

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

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

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

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

“Shut it," you snapped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— viii

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

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

But tonight, something felt different.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Word of advice?”

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

Your brows furrowed. “Excuse me?”

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

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

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

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

Sunghoon.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then he was behind him.

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

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

You had to flee now.

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

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

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

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

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

Park Sunghoon.

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

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

Then, his head snapped up.

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

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

Sunghoon.

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

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

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

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

“Not the most gentlemanly, is it?”

Both of you turned sharply.

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

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

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

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

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

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

At this rate, he’d find you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This wasn't just a game.

This was the prelude to a Reaping.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was the opening you needed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sunghoon, st—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His gaze sharpened, but he didn’t interrupt.

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

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

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

“That’s not an answer,” you cut off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— ix

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sunghoon, however, wasn’t there.

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then you saw it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And your enemy is?”

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

“Are you not a pureblood?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But the danger wasn’t over.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But all you found was stillness.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He scoffed, “Of course.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You swallowed thickly, realising how utterly compromising the moment was. His sheer size, the commanding breadth of his shoulders, the dominance in the way he loomed over you, left no room for doubt: he could crush you if he wanted to. The sharp lines of his torso, from the broad planes of his chest to the rigid definition of his abdomen, were marked by bruises and wounds that should have humanized him, softened the edge of his dominance—but they didn’t. Even in his weakened state, he radiated sheer power, every ripple of muscle a quiet, unspoken warning that he could break you, overwhelm you, overpower you, without much effort. His grip on you wrist wasn’t painful, but it thrummed with latent power, the kind that made you all too aware of the control he wasn’t even exerting yet.

You hated how easily he made you feel so small. Yet, despite the tightness in your chest and the way his gaze bore into yours with a storm of unspoken emotions, you refused to flinch. Refused to show that he has an effect on you. You knew him—getting you flustered and yield had always been something he thrived on and now, in a set-up that is meant to amplify it, you refused to give him that satisfaction.

“My turn,” you murmured, the words cutting through the silence like a thread pulled too tight. “Did you?” the question wasn’t a slip—it was purposeful, a strike meant to turn the tables.

Except, the joke was probably on you because instead of a response, something in him snapped. His grip on your wrist tightened almost too punishingly and his other hand shot to your jaw, holding you still as his lips crashed against yours.

Your body tensed at the unexpected contact, but his arm had slithered around your back—locking you in place like a steel band—fingers digging into your ribs as if tethering you in place—closer, ever closer—leaving no room to move, no air to breathe, only the suffocating weight of his presence pressing down on you. The curve of his palm seemed to mold perfectly to your body, a gesture that felt both infuriatingly possessive and unnervingly intimate. His hand, a possessive vice around your nape, tilted your head, allowing him to plunder your mouth with a punishing intensity, his lips slotting against yours with a brutal, consuming force.

You hands clawed at his shoulders, frantically trying to push him off, to break free, but every resistance seemed to ignite a darker hunger within him. With a grunt, he crushed you against him, making you feel every plane and contour of his chest and muscles, the searing heat of his skin branding yours, the unyielding planes of his chest pressing into you, heavy and demanding. Before you could catch your breath, he pressed forward with a brutal force, throwing off your balance and sending you crashing down onto the sheets—his lips never leaving yours as if it was his very lifeline. The world around you spun and you struggled to regain your bearings, but he was relentless, his lips moving with ever greater fervour, forcing your lips apart, his tongue invading your mouth with a forceful, dominant stroke.

The weight of his body pinned you down, heavy and unyielding, his bare skin hot against yours—suffocating and intoxicating all at once. Your breath was coming up in ragged gasps as you struggled against the tide of sensations that threatened to drown you. Like sandcastles against the tide, your resistance crumbled under the unrelenting force of his lips and touch. Your hands, grasping for purchase, clung to his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as you struggled to anchor yourself, as his tongue plundered your mouth with renewed vigor, claiming every inch, demanding your surrender, refusing to accept anything less.

As you softened under him, his hands glided along your sides, caressing every curve and dip with purposeful precision, setting every nerve alight, while making you feel every plane and contour of his chest and muscles. His taut muscles rippled beneath your touch, a testament to his restrained power. Lost in the tempest of sensations, you barely noticed his his hand creeping higher up your thigh, bunching your dress dangerously high. It was only then did you realised just how far things had escalated. Jerking back to reality, you wedged a hand against his chest, breaking the kiss, and grabbed for his wandering hand, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

But like a raging inferno, Sunghoon was unstoppable, his lips now trailing a scorching path down your neck, leaving a wake of fiery, open-mouthed kisses that seared your skin. "Sunghoon, stop," you gasped, panic lacing your voice as his hand pried yours away and pinned it painfully against the bed. You were utterly powerless then, your movements and strength futile against his onslaught.  For a terrifying moment, you thought he might sink his fangs into your neck, draining you of your lifesource, but instead, he continued to ravage you with his lips and hands—leaving marks and that burned and bruised. It was quickly dawning on you just how far gone Sunghoon was and the prospect of where it was heading terrified you more than getting bitten was. “Sunghoon, please—"  you begged, your voice breaking, and that seemed to have to snap him back to reality for his movements stilled, face hovering inches from yours. The look in his eyes was wild and uncertain, as if he was struggling to reign himself in from crossing a dangerous line.

"I- I’m sorry," he muttered, voice low and hoarse, tinged with something that almost sounded like guilt. He moved off you in one fluid motion, retreating like a shadow, his usual composure slowly slipping back into place. "I shouldn’t have—" He ran a hand through his hair, sighing heavily. "— just stay here for the night, okay? It’s safer. I’ll stay watch outside."

You remained frozen, your breathing uneven, your heart pounding in the deafening silence he left behind. The door clicked shut, but the echoes of his presence lingered, searing into you like a brand. Your bruised lips throbbed, the faint crescent-shaped imprints of his nails burned on your skin, and your neck felt alive with the memory of where his lips had lingered. Every mark he left wasn’t just a reminder of him—it was a reminder of what lay beneath the surface: a beast, barely leashed.

And yet, it wasn’t his loss of control that haunted you most. It was the way, in the charged stillness of the moment, you hadn’t fought him. You hadn’t turned away. Some part of you had yielded—not out of weakness, but out of something more dangerous.

The truth gripped you now, unrelenting: it wasn’t just Sunghoon you didn’t trust.

It was yourself.

— x

As foretold, the sun set the following day beneath a blood moon, casting an eerie reddish glow over the fourth evening, which was to be held in the Hall of Glory. As if mirroring your impending doom, the castle had been unnaturally still all day. The familiar footsteps of maids in the hall and the muted clink of silverware being set had disappeared, replaced by an oppressive, almost reverent silence. No maids brought breakfast to your door. No butlers appeared with fresh linens.

The absence wasn’t coincidence—it was tradition. You’d overheard whispers in the days before, half-muttered exchanges between the staff about “the sacred day” when they were to leave the castle as it would be reserved only for the “worthy.” You hadn’t understood the gravity of those words then, but now, under the ominous glow of the blood moon and the oppressive stillness of the castle’s grandeur, it felt like a prelude to slaughter. As if you’d stepped willingly into a gilded abattoir.

Unlike the vast, awe-inspiring spaces of the previous halls, the Hall of Glory was smaller, darker, and far more intimate, as though it were designed to suffocate rather than inspire. Towering columns stood sentinel around the circular chamber, their presence oppressive and unyielding. Between them loomed statues of tragedy: alabaster angels with torn wings, warriors collapsing under unseen burdens, veiled women weeping into gilded boxes clutched reverently in their hands. Each figure radiated its own unique agony, frozen mid-suffering, their despair immortalized in marble—a chilling homage to the 'glory' promised by the hall’s name.

At the center rose a massive stained-glass window, its grotesque designs seeming to shift under scrutiny. The blood moon’s crimson light spilled through, bleeding into the chamber and fracturing into jagged patterns across the polished floor, pooling like spilled wine—or something darker.

Then, as though drawn by the room’s gravity, the host appeared at the grand doorway, his jubilance a stark contrast to the oppressive room. “Welcome, my survivors!” he proclaimed, arms flung wide. “The best part of our tradition has finally arrived! As you can see, the hall is surrounded by statues. If they seem to call to you, perhaps they are. In fact,” he paused for emphasis, “at their base, you’ll find your names, and in their hands lie a gilded box where your prize awaits.”

You followed the rest as they hesitantly approached the statues. Yours, a marble depiction of a woman being hauled away by a man, felt like a cruel joke. A mocking reflection of your predicament, carved in cold, unfeeling stone. Your jaw tightened as you pried open the gilded box at its base, the air in the hall suddenly feeling heavier. Inside lay two pieces of burgundy parchment.

Suppressing the uneasy churn in your stomach, you picked up the closer parchment, revealing a name etched in elegant script: “Jaeyun.”

Nearby, a man’s voice rose, sharp with indignation. “A name?! What the hell are we supposed to do with a name?!”

The host’s laugh cut through the hall like a razor, too bright, too sharp, ricocheting off the oppressive walls. “Of course they’re names,” he drawled, his grin widening to something feral. “They’re the ones who will grant you eternal glory.”

The words settled over you like a vice, their meaning sinking deeper with each passing second. If this was the Reaping, then... The thought trailed off, unfinished but heavy, tugging your gaze upward instinctively where your eyes lock with Jaeyun who was perched casually at the triforium near the stained glass, as if he’d been waiting for you to look. Jaeyun leaned against the edge, his grin splitting his face like a sinister mask, hand lifting in a greeting in an almost maddeningly casual way like a predator toying with its prey. Mocking you without a word.

“—The Reaper," you finished your thought aloud, the title slipping from your lips as if it had been lurking there all along, waiting to be named.

Your throat tightened, but your hands remained steady as you reached for the second parchment. When you flipped it, the name seemed to glare back at you, heavier, crueler. You whispered it aloud, the word sharp on your tongue: “Sunghoon.”

Your gaze darted across the room, where Sunghoon stood at the opposite triforium from Jaeyun. His eyes found yours instantly, dark and inscrutable. No surprise. No panic. Not even a flicker of emotion. Just that infuriatingly calm, unbothered facade that made your skin crawl. Jaeyun’s taunting words from the library echoed in your mind: What if he’s saving you for himself?

“I can see some victors are rather popular this evening,” the host chimed, his clapping hands slicing through the suffocating tension. His smile stretched wider, dripping with theatrical delight. “But fret not! As tradition dictates, the popular ones will be granted five minutes with each of their suitors in this hall—for one final waltz. Serenade them, threaten them, confess your undying love—whatever suits your fancy. But remember—at the end, only one name must be chosen.”

A man nearby let out a hysterical laugh, his voice cracking as it spiralled into something desperate. “You’re insane—this is insane! I’m not doing this!” His words barely finished before he bolted for the door.

Not that he made it far.

In a blur of motion, one of the vampires materialized before him. The creature’s clawed hand plunged into his chest with a sickening crunch, emerging a moment later clutching his pulsating heart. The man crumpled, lifeless, as a fresh scream tore through the air from the woman beside you.

“And that,” the host exclaimed, his voice still so bright and cheerful, “is what becomes of the ungrateful.” He gestured theatrically to the room, as if he’d just delivered a perfectly rehearsed line in a play. “Come now, victors. Look alive. You’ve earned this. Eternal glory is yours to claim.”

Without waiting for a response, the orchestra struck a jarring chord, the music swelling into something both grand and ominous. Above, the vampires descended from their balconies like a wave of predators, their movements too fast to track. They poured into the hall with eerie precision, seizing their chosen humans without ceremony. The room erupted into chaos—screams, cries, and the sound of shattering glass blending into a cacophony that seemed to mock the elegant setting.

“And now the Waltz commences,” the host declared, his voice ringing with perverse joy.

You barely had time to react before strong hands wrapped around your waist, spinning you with a force that nearly knocked you off balance. “Jaeyun,” you said bitterly, as he grabbed your hand, the other already planted possessively on your waist.

“I told you so,” he drawled, his voice smooth but tinged with mockery. “Your savior is your undoing.”

“And you’re not?” you shot back, trying to pull away, but his grip only tightened as he began to move, forcing you into the dance. His movements were elegant yet aggressive, dragging you along like a puppet on strings.

“Can’t you see?  I’m the one saving you from him,” he scoffed, exasperated, “don’t tell me his sob story about the his family's sins and the Council of Elders is all it took to sway you—" he clicked his tongue as he spun you around before pulling you back against him, “Can’t you see the double entrende here? he’s not working under the Council of Elders to promote good. It’s completely self-serving – it grants him what is essentially a license to kill vampires. Less powerful purebloods mean fewer threats. It’s all about power, darling.”

You faltered for a moment, his words digging under your skin. “Even if that’s true,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady, “I’m still being passed from one wolf to another. You’re not exactly an ideal choice either…”

He spun you away from the center, the shadows engulfing you both, “tell you what, after this charade, they’ll give you a chance to escape through the Maze outside the castle. People would run aimlessly through the maze, thinking that it will eventually get them somewhere but it wont. The secret lies in the statues. Their hands are always pointing at the right way.”

You stared at him, trying to see past those unfathomable eyes. “Why are you telling me this? Why help me?”

He murmured, his lips ghosting dangerously close to your ear, “because we have the same goal, albeit in different forms, which is survival. And Sunghoon is the only one staying in our way. He’s playing the long game y/n. Look at him. Look at how he watches you—like a chess piece he hasn’t figured out how to move yet. You think he saved you? Sunghoon doesn’t save people. He removes and collects them, like a relic. That’s how it is with the royal Purebloods—it's always all about control and servitude. He’ll never let anyone be his equal.”

“Still, even if I choose you. It won’t guarantee my safety,” you said adamantly, “you could still end up reaping me.”

“And what for?” he said matter-of-factly, “My mother was reaped and I became a ‘tainted’ child in a world that worships purity. Can you see now? why I hate collateral damage?"

He paused, his gaze piercing. “And frankly, with what I hear about you and him… the Reaping might just be his way to stake his claim on you you—to make you his in every sense. Among other things.” His lips twisted into a bitter smirk. “Trust me, you’ll wish he’d killed you instead.”

You wanted to open your mouth, say something defiant, but nothing came. He pressed on, “I know you’re smart and rational so think of me as the lesser evil. I, at least, have no motive to want to reap you specifically and if you choose me at the end—I’ll really let you go because then I know that we are of the same understanding.”

Suddenly you feel his hand creep higher over your back, like a vine reclaiming its hold. His face was inches from yours, and for a fleeting moment, the interplay of shadow and light caught you off guard. Jaeyun’s usual devil-may-care grin—mischievous, boyish—seemed to warp under the flickering half-light. The shadows deepened the sharp angles of his cheekbones, the tilt of his lips more predator than prankster, as though the ease in his expression was a veneer stretched over something far more calculated. The light, faint and fleeting, only accentuated the unsettling duality—a face that could charm or terrify, depending on how you looked at it.

“If you choose Sunghoon however” his voice dipped lower, his head tilting so his breath brushed against your ear, “I’ll take it that you’re no different from him. And trust me—I won’t even let you get past any statues in the maze.”

You barely had the time to process the onslaught of words—teetering confusingly between helpful and threatening—when his hand cupped your face. Gentle yet deliberate, he tipped your chin ever so slightly toward him before pressing his lips languidly on your cheek—the kiss too slow, too deliberate to be mistaken for tenderness. No, it was a warning—a searing brand meant to remind you of the stakes.

He was like a thorny vine—subtle, insidious. The more you moved, the more you were pricked, and if you stayed still, it would creep over you, wrapping tighter until it claimed you entirely.

The heat lingered long after he pulled away, your skin prickling as though it carried the weight of his words. He loosened his grip just enough to spin you away, the force dismissive yet laced with an unsettling possessiveness.

The force sent you stumbling, disoriented, until strong arms caught you mid-motion, halting your fall. You looked up, your breath hitching as Sunghoon’s dark gaze locked onto yours. His presence was grounding, anchoring you in the chaos—but it was suffocating too, a storm restrained just beneath the surface, its weight pressing down on you.

“You look like you had an enjoyable time with the loach,” Sunghoon muttered, bitterness lacing every syllable. His grip tightened slightly on your waist, dragging you closer as the music swelled around you.

“And you look like you’re exactly where you should be,” you shot back, trying to twist out of his grip, “—the Reaping’s poster child. Is that why you saved me so far?” you pressed on, unable to conceal your own bitterness, “because you’re actually saving me for this.”

His grip tightened—not enough to hurt, but enough to keep you tethered to him. “Would you rather there only be a single name?” he asked coldly, his tone as biting as the frigid air between you. “His?”

“At least he’s honest, Sunghoon,” you snapped, your voice cracking under the weight of your frustration. “At least I know where I stand with him. You—” your hand pressed against his chest, a futile attempt to create space as he guided you into a sharp turn. “You twist everything until I don’t know what’s real anymore.”

“You don’t know what’s real?” His laugh was bitter, humorless, as he spun you again, this time keeping you so close you could feel the rise and fall of his chest against yours. “You poisoned me, y/n. You ran from me. You were the one who destroyed what was real.”

The pang of guilt that surged through you was like a knife, but you refused to let it show. “Oh, I see,” you said, mockery dripping from every word. “Killing two birds with one stone, are we? Reclaim your glory and punish me in one fell swoop. Immortality, bound to you for eternity—that’s the perfect revenge for me, isn’t it? You’ve outdone yourself, Park Sunghoon.”

His jaw tightened, his calm facade cracking just slightly. “You think this is about power?” he asked quietly, his voice simmering with frustration. “I’ve lived for centuries and gone through several wars. If I cared about reclaiming anything, I would have done it long ago.”

“So this is about us, is it?” you pressed, your voice trembling with both anger and something rawer. “Punishing me for what I did eight years ago? You knew the Reaping would break me irreparably more than killing me ever could. That’s why you kept me alive—so you could tether me to you, curse me with eternity, all under your control.”

 “You think I want you bound to me just to feed some twisted sense of power?” he scoffed, the bitterness in his tone cutting sharper than any blade. “God, y/n, this isn’t about control.”

“Then what is it about?” you demanded. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks a hell of a lot like revenge. A power play.”

His jaw clenched, the restraint in his expression cracking further as he took another step toward you. “You think I want revenge? That I want to punish you?” he snapped, his voice rising. “Can’t you see that it’s you that I want?” his voice cracking, “I can’t afford to lose you. Not to him, not to anyone. I’d tear this place apart before I let him have you.”

“I am not yours,” you said bitterly, the words like venom on your tongue. “And you don’t get to play saviour by making me your captive.”

“Captive?” he echoed, the hint of hurt in his voice was subtle but evident. “Sure. Paint me as the villain then—that’s easier, isn’t it? Easier than admitting you’re the one who’s afraid.”

“Afraid?” you scoffed, though the tremor in your voice betrayed you. “Of you?”

“No,” he said sharply, his gaze piercing through you. “Afraid of what you feel. Of what you felt back then, and what you still feel now.”

You flinched as if his words had physically struck you, the momentary crack in your resolve giving him an opening. He stepped closer, his movements calculated as he swept you into a slow, deliberate turn, each step forcing you to follow, leaving you breathless and off balance. “Because if you were really sure,” he murmured, his voice dropping dangerously low, “you wouldn’t need to convince yourself I’m the villain. You wouldn’t be standing here, accusing me of using you, when the truth is you’re just looking for a reason to run.”

Your laugh was hollow, brittle. “You think I’d run from you?”

“I think you’ve been running since the moment we met,” he said simply, his voice cutting through your bravado like a blade. “And I think you’ll keep running until you admit why you poisoned me in the first place.”

He spun you again, his movements sharp and unrelenting, before pulling you back into him, his voice soft but no less cutting. “You knew what we were, what we could’ve been—and you destroyed it. You burned it all to the ground before it could burn you.”

Your fingers curled against his shoulder, nails lightly digging into the fabric, your voice cracking as you hissed, “What you felt for me is not love, Sunghoon. It’s control wrapped in obsession; possession, dressed up as affection.”

He swallowed thickly, and for a moment, you couldn’t tell why—was it because he had called you out, or because your words had cut too deep? The silence between you seemed to stretch, taut and unyielding. His jaw tightened, his gaze darkening, and when he finally spoke, his voice was quieter, sharper, cutting through the air like frost.

“Maybe it is,” he murmured, each word deliberate, his brows furrowing as a glint flashed in his eyes—something cold, something you’d never seen before. “Maybe that’s all I am now.” The faint curve of his lips followed, but it wasn’t a smile—it was bitterness made flesh, a weapon unsheathed.

“Fine, y/n.” His voice dropped lower, darker, as though he were sealing a pact. “I’ll be the villain you so desperately need me to be.”

Before you could respond, he stepped closer, manoeuvring you sharply across the hall. The motion was unrelenting, his grip tightening with a force that felt like it could crush you if he chose. His movements were forceful, almost punishing, the elegance of the waltz tainted by the sheer rawness of his frustration.

“I’ll selfishly take back what you tore from me—what you tore from us—eight years ago,” he continued, his voice low and cutting, each word laced with an accusation that burned. His fingers moved with a slithery precision, curling with just enough force to press you against him, like a marionette in his grasp. His arm, firm and unrelenting, coiled around you like a serpent, each step tethering you closer, suffocating you with its possessiveness.

The curve of his palm seemed to mold perfectly to your body, a gesture that felt both possessive and unnervingly intimate. When he spun you, his hand didn’t falter—it followed the contours of your frame, reclaiming its position with a fluidity that felt inevitable, like gravity itself had shifted in his favour. His grip tightened subtly, fingers splaying just enough to press into the delicate fabric of your gown, branding you in a way that felt both commanding and terrifyingly intimate.

“You tore us apart,” he murmured, his voice dropping into something darker, heavier, as though he was drawing from a well of buried pain. His face hovered inches from yours, his breath searing against your skin. “This time, I’ll make sure you can’t end anything. Because if I can’t have you, no one can.”

The finality in his words hit you like a physical blow, leaving you frozen as he guided you through another step, his movements precise yet devoid of tenderness. The music surged around you, its crescendo mimicking the storm of emotions churning in the air.

And then, as the final note reverberated through the hall, Sunghoon stepped back. His retreat was slow, deliberate, each step like a crumbling facade. His dark eyes burned with an intensity you’d never seen before, emotions swirling just beneath the surface—anger, pain, longing, and something far darker. You couldn’t bring yourself to move, trapped in the gravity of what had just passed between you.

“Now, now,” the host’s voice shattered the silence like breaking glass, his cheerful tone jarring against the tension that lingered in the air. “You know the rules,” he announced, his grin sharp. “Burn the name of the rejected and put the chosen name in the gilded chest.”

Your gaze dropped to the two burgundy parchments in your hand. Slowly, deliberately, you picked up the one with Jaeyun’s name, placing it inside the chest that was meant for the chosen one. The soft click of the lid sealed your choice, a decision made for all to see.

Your gaze instinctively sought Sunghoon in the crowd. His eyes locked with yours for a fleeting second, and in that moment, something flickered across his face—fury, yes, but beneath it, a flash of raw hurt that cut deeper than any words. Then he turned sharply, vanishing into the sea of bodies.

What he didn’t see, what no one would ever see, was how you never burnt the name you rejected—Sunghoon's. You couldn’t.

Instead you folded the parchment with painstaking care, tucking it into the lining of your dress, just over your heart. As though it carried every unspoken word between you.

As if it meant more than you dared to admit.

A/N: No this isn't the end HAHAHAHA told you it was a 40k work so it's actually supposed to be longer but bloody hell apparently tumblr has a 1000 blocks per post limit and it exceeded. So I gotta chop it here. See you in the next one ((i might post it immediately after, or space it out hohoh so let me know what you think about this one)) !

Taglist: @axartia | @my5colours | @elinushka-ka | @nowjillsandwich | @leaderwon | @moniqueovermoney | @ashrocker123 | @seungkwan-s | @hydroyaksha | @ikayyyyyy | @capri-cuntz| @asyleums | @lovialy | @nikikookie | @lunateez | @reithecat | @hocestmundi | tagging those who have explicitly wanted to be tagged eheh apologies if I missed some out :(

I will kms this is too cute, it's 5:13 am rn omd 😭

୨ৎ — With Love, Sunghoon

pairing: non-idol!sunghoon x fem-reader

synopsis: Almost is sometimes never enough, Sunghoon needed a tutor and Y/N needed the extra credit. What happens when two failed lovers meet again after years of running away and misunderstandings?

w/c: 23.3K :o

tags: teacher x teacher, first love, baby baby (?) angst, sunghoon kinda a dick, then he turns into a loser LOL, lots of gussy gussy fluff at the end, niki and jungwon cameo as hoon’s gremlins. And yes hoon blonde obsession.

a/n: oh em gee, its been MONTHS. been so busy with irl stuff and other responsibilities I've neglected dazed-hee </3. BUT pls expect more content to come out soon because I am stressed and writing helps me destress HAHAHA. ending is not how I would like but I honestly did not want to scrap this fic and start a new ): this is little fic was supposed to be a present for my hoon girlie @hoonvrs AND IT STILL IS! i hope everyone enjoys and pls lml what you think! ALSO With Love Series going on mini break bc I have so so many ideas I want to write about I can't be limited to this series ASDAKJSD

likes & reblogs are encouraged thank you!!

“So class I’m happy to say you don’t have any homework this weekend.” You sighed, placing all the files you went through from the past hour on the side as the class cheered lightly,  some even clapping at the thought of a free weekend mixed with fun and more studying.. 

“But—” you interjected, biting back a small smile as some of them instantly stopped cheering; some even holding in groans while you pointed at the calendar on the wall. 

“Don’t be surprised if you walk into class Monday with a quiz on your desk about cell biology and functions.” You hastily announced, a slight grin on your face finally hearing the groans and complaints travel through the room, quickly turning around you began cleaning the whiteboard while bidding goodbye to your students. 

“Hey be happy it wasn’t a real pop quiz— and I told you what unit it’s going to be about!” You reasoned out loud in the hall, smiling at some of the girls in your class who argued it was guys in the back doing most of the complaining. Compared to the other teachers you felt like you were quite lenient with the students, making class and learning as interactive and fun as possible. Being one of the youngest teachers you made it your job to sympathize with the students since you were in their position not that long ago. 

“Ah wait–” You called out, grabbing onto two sneaky individuals hiding behind the girls on the way out. 

“I need you two to stay back for an hour of tutoring starting next week. If you don’t you won’t have a passing grade for eligibility.” You warned. 

“Ms.Kim please our coach moved practice to after school hours and he’s been really strict about being there.” the boy plead, his eyes glistening brightly looking down at you. 

“Well Jungwon maybe we shouldn’t have failed the last unit exam and for you Niki— start doing corrections you’ll earn half your points back.” You nodded toward the other who was sulking softly. You knew the pressures and tight schedules student-athletes went through and you honestly felt bad, the two weren’t even doing terribly you just wanted to make sure they had leisure with their grades when it came to eligibility check. 

“What about I have a talk with your Coach and have him push back practice by an hour or something, I’m only doing this for the two of you; trust me I know what it feels like.” You sighed patting their shoulders as they nodded to your offer. Heading to the faculty room you were greeted by other teachers finishing up for the day, you weren’t sure who this new coach was but practice usually took place early mornings. Partly so it doesn’t run into afterschool activities and studying sessions but also because the weather was more favorable most of the time. 

“Ms.Kim, how are you today?” Your boss greeted you by the printer, greeting her back with a smile you saw the way some of the female coworkers were actively glancing out the window, chatting amongst each other with shy grins painting their lips. 

“I’m doing good Mrs.Go, just printing out a few practice sheets for tutoring starting soon.” 

The older lady nodded at you with a warm smile, when you first got the job a little over two years ago Ms.Go stepped up as the new principal from her vice position. You’ve always felt welcomed because of her and she always had nothing but good and encouraging things to say to and about you.

“I’m glad you’ve found your pacing with the students, I get nothing but compliments from them and their parents— keep up the good work.” she rubbed your shoulder softly bidding you goodbye. Shaking out a small sigh you stood tapping the table as the beeping of the machine printed what felt like endless amounts of pages.

“Oh my god he’s so good-looking.” 

“Did you see when he was running with the students earlier?”

“I heard he’s the new literature teacher who’s also coaching the basketball team.” 

Gathering your things you acknowledged your coworker's excited expressions; curiosity overtaking as you made your way to the window to see what all the fuss was about, all you could see were the student-athletes running back inside towards the gym. A flash of blonde catches your eye before forcing yourself to peel away knowing there were lots to do and students to expect soon.

Seeing a few students greet you on the way back to class had your shoulders high in pride at the familiar faces of kids you’ve tutored before. Many of them respected you as a teacher but also saw you as a friend— well most. 

“Ms.Kim!” turning at the group of boys your brow raised as a few of them offered to help carry the stack of papers you were gripping back to class, their shoulders bumping against each other to gain your attention which only prompted a short scoff under your breath. Being one of the younger teachers you also noticed the uncanny amount of attention you received from students, girls asking for advice about dating and what to look forward to in college while the boys were being— well boys.

“Coach is looking for you guys, something about wanting to run another lap.” cutting between them you were glad Jungwon showed up when he did, brows furrowed slightly at some of them murmuring lowly to each other. After everyone left the boy greeted you with a dimple, one you saw frequently in class from what you recalled.

“I talked to Coach and I don’t think he’s willing to push back practice.” You heard him sigh, placing the stack of paper he insisted to carry on your desk as you pushed your fingers into the back of your dress pants.

“Well I would love to talk to your Coach, he knows if you and Niki don’t qualify for eligibility you won’t be able to play till the next check, right?” Your voice confused with shock seeing the boy nod with a conflicted expression on his face. 

“Where’s Niki?” You asked softly sitting at your desk checking the time on your wristwatch knowing students were going to show up anytime soon. 

“He’s distracting Coach Park while I’m here.” 

“Well tell Coach Park, when he’s done with practice to come to my class.” You ordered him, filing some notes in the file cabinet before standing up heading to the lab stations. With a nod Jungwon left swiftly, his sneakers squeaking against the tile floor as you leaned against the table, appreciating the evening sun seeping through the tall windows lining the class walls with your eyes closed. 

A knock on your door pulled you from your thoughts realizing some of your students came for their quick tutoring session. “Alright, should we get started?” You greeted them, a feeling of sentiment washed over you. 

It was bittersweet in a way. 

“Ms.Kim we’re almost done with the worksheet!” 

“Okay once you’re done just leave it on my desk and you three are free to leave.” You nodded, going back to the rows of beakers and test tubes you were prepping for the planned lab on Monday. You’ve always loved science, being a biochemist double major in college, you’re practically a pro at handling bunsen burners and microscopes. You weren’t sure when you decided to be a teacher and to be completely fair, you’ve never thought to be one when asked about your future endeavors as a kid.

But maybe it was from the multiple classmates you’ve tutored as a side job and extra credit, you found you had a talent for working with others and teaching them what you’ve mastered best. The satisfaction of seeing others click with the information and concepts you present always made you proud, proud that they could grasp complex ideas, and proud that you were an influence and part of the reason why. Nostalgia overtook your thoughts recalling back about your college days, from friends to strangers and those in between. 

Brushing your fingers against the clear tubes absentmindedly, a bitter smile took your lips— almosts were never enough sometimes. It was nearing five in the evening and you were finishing the final touches to each station carefully, making sure all the lab equipment was properly placed for the students, by now the ones who came have left and you were here alone in your thoughts.

“I heard you wanted to speak with me about something?” You heard someone call from the door, slightly muffled as you were quickly packing up the mess you made from preparations into the table cabinets below. 

“Yeah actually, it’s about your afternoon practices—” You replied slightly vexed, none of the other coaches have changed their practice hours so you weren’t sure why the basketball team in particular did. 

“I won’t be able to change or push back practice since that’s the only time that works for us.” huffing out a sigh you quickly set the extra box of test tubes back into their protective cases in the lower cabinets. 

“Okay well, you know if your athletes don’t qualify for eligibility they won’t be able to play correct?” confused as to why you weren’t getting a response you stood up with a huff. Your eyes widened while your words jumbled to get out, realizing who the new coach was and who you were talking to. 

It’s been a while, years to be exact since you last had eyes on him. He was blonde now, and it fit him well; just as tall as you remember taking in the way he was leaning against the door frame with his hands shoved in track pants. His slightly raised shoulders and wide eyes told you he was just as surprised to see you, a stoic expression overtaking his shocked one when he straightened his posture. 

He was exactly the same as he was before, but so different. 

“Sunghoon?” his name became foreign to you over time, like a bitter fruit you bit into and wished to forget. A wave of emotions swirled across your face you were sure of it. His eyes flickered around the classroom and a small sigh could be heard through the thick tension that had formed between you two. 

“Looks like you’re doing well,” he mumbled jingling the keys in his pockets as he watched your frown deepen further. 

“I’m not changing practice times Y/N, don’t ask me again.” his voice was firm and cold, you saw the way his eyes flickered over you once more before turning to leave.

After your brief conversation with Sunghoon, he left you standing there questioning if what just happened— really happened. With both of your hands gripping the table behind you, the sound of him making his way through the hall confirmed that it was indeed Sunghoon.

Park Sunghoon whom you fell in love with in college, Park Sunghoon who also broke your heart as well. It was him. He was the new coach that is already causing trouble the same way he did back then in your mundane life.

“Alright and the enzymes only react during the active site, get it?” Tapping your pen against the desk you sighed out of relief seeing your classmate nod enthusiastically finally understanding the unit concepts from the past lectures. It was warm, with the University library lined with large windows you wouldn’t be able to get a good nap here without the bright sun bearing down on your back, that’s why people nap in the reserved study rooms instead.

“So if the enzymes are heated or enter a different pH environment what happens then?” You asked carefully— there was no hope for the kid but for extra credit, your professor offered you to tutor students. You could only hope a higher being blessed you with the ability to input knowledge into these empty vessels because fuck; how were people this bad at studying? 

“They become unnaturalized?” She answered unconfidently, eyes lighting up seeing how your head tilted giving her a slight sound of approval. It was wrong but at least it was close.

“Close, denatured,” closing the workbook you nodded slightly acknowledging this was a lot better than when you first began tutoring her. “Keep studying like this and you’ll be caught up before the final in no time.” You smiled softly as she quickly packed her things. 

Oh, the things you did for extra credit, from extra lab hours to volunteer research assignments you needed every single point you could gain to balance out the fact you had no extracurricular and social hours to back up your pretty GPA. 

“Thank you Y/N it feels so good to finally understand what’s going on in class.” she gratefully thanked you, gripping the extra workbooks you recommended to her enthusiastically. With a smile, you bid her goodbye before peering back down at your laptop to see what you had next— a meeting with your professor. 

“I must say the classmates you are tutoring have been improving quite a bit, slowly but surely.” Your professor said looking at his notes with a satisfied nod. It was true, it started with your friend Naeun who was failing before despite passing with flying colors now. You now tutored kids who weren’t even from your own lecture, some in different years even.

 “If there are any other students you need me to tutor I’ll be more than happy to take them during my free time.” You added quickly, rubbing your palms against your jeans to mask the shake in your leg from his peripheral. 

Before he could answer, a knock on the door caused you to turn as a rather tall boy came in with a guitar case in one hand and a packet of papers in the other. With his hair messily put together he looked like every other boy in your class, but the moment his eyes met yours you quickly shifted back into your seat; trying your best to avoid the heat running through your face. 

“Professor Lee I’m here to talk about my exam..” he announced demeaningly. You could only watch as the older male stood up, pulling the boy to sit beside you in the empty seat while you shifted looking at the grade on his recent exam. 

Yikes.

“Sunghoon this is Y/N she’s in your lecture and also one of my tutors.” you reluctantly nodded toward him in acknowledgment as he did the same. “She’s one of my best students and I’m asking her to tutor you in hopes it’ll bring your grade up so you can pass the class.” With wide eyes, you glanced at Sunghoon, a hand rubbing the nape of his neck assuming he was weighing out the options he didn’t really have. 

“And you know you need to pass the class to graduate Sunghoon, I advise you to do your best with Y/N or you’ll run into big trouble once finals come.” He sighed, gathering his things while glancing at the clock on the wall. While bidding the two of you goodbye, you faintly heard him whisper to the boy a small ‘be nice to her’ before the door closed shut. Picking up your bag you pulled your phone out looking at your rather busy calendar for an open spot in your schedule. 

“I’m free every Tuesday Wednesday and Friday in the late afternoon, just pick two days and let me know before next week. Or you could tell Professor Lee and he’ll relay the info to me.” you could only give him a shy smile despite him sitting there blinking at you. With an awkward nod, you gave him one last forced grin before making your way toward the door.

“Wait!” His sudden exclamation startled you slightly, a quizzical stare greeting him while your fingers were already grazing the cold door handle.

“Where are you going right now?” He briefly asked, adjusting the grip on his guitar case while stuffing his exam back into his backpack. 

“The library.”

“I’ll come with.” 

Your solo studying session today suddenly turned into a plus one, watching as your new friend pull his things from his bag, you failed to hold the slight snicker earning his curiosity. Shrugging at his raised brow, you opened your laptop pulling out a practice workbook with a smile.

“Could’ve fooled me with that study setup if you never told me you were failing Biology.” You nodded at his set of pencils and eraser neatly placed in front of him, his frown turning into a grin knowing you were right, unfortunately. 

“Listen I’m good at everything but science, it might be hard to imagine but I’m a TA for my English professor.” he boasted proudly, sitting up in his seat as you smiled humming in acknowledgment. 

“Oh and to answer your question from earlier, I’m able to do Tuesdays and Wednesdays, I just finished an important project so I should be available a lot more often now.” He politely added, taking in your gaze as you nodded slowly before turning back to your workbook. 

After an hour of studying you noticed Sunghoon was actually quite diligent, not getting distracted by his phone nor did he daze into space even you’d catch yourself doing at times. If this was your conclusion then you weren’t sure where his problem was that had him failing— terribly. 

“That’s wrong.” You softly stopped him, pointing at the question he’s been working on for the past couple of minutes after seeing the frustrated expression overtake his face promptly. 

“I’m not good with genetics, I get the whole structure and basic….stuff, but once it gets to this I get lost.” He admitted running his fingers through his hair. Peeling your gaze away from the mole beside his jaw you coughed before opening up your notes.

“From what I see you're making it way more difficult than it should be—” You started, pulling your chair beside his before sliding your tablet across the table with a holistic breakdown of the concepts you took notes on for the genetics unit. After a few minutes of explaining and correcting his question, you allowed him to scroll through your notes a little longer, grinning at the fascinated look in his eye as he complimented the way your notes looked. 

“I can send you the notes later if you like them that much.” You chuckled, scooting your chair back after feeling his elbow graze your own, a little too close you figured. Hearing no response your eyes naturally found his again realizing he was looking between you and the space now in between. Once he realized you were waiting for a response, he pushed your tablet toward you quickly, his pen tapping against the table softly with a nod.

“Please if you don’t mind, I don’t know how you have time to do them like that they’re really nice.” He complimented, checking his phone before handing it to you with the contacts app opened. “Well I don’t do much of anything else so I have a lot of time to spare.” You snickered. 

“Oh come on, nothing? Like nothing seriously?” He asked you again, holding back a wide grin noting your name displayed on the screen along with your number. “Why do I look like I do a lot of stuff?” You questioned, his nod surprising you somewhat. 

“Yeah I mean, our classmates always say how fun and nice you are to be around so I just assumed,” he explained truthfully, from what he’s heard, a lot of your classmates had nothing but good things to say to you. 

“I only go out with a few of my close friends from time to time but seeing that you pretty much—”  glancing at his duffle bag you assumed was for whatever club he was a part of and his guitar case beside it; you could tell he was a busy man. “ —you literally do everything, it could look like not much for you.” You smiled genuinely. 

“Well trust me when I say I rather have a few things to focus on over this,” he emphasized, nodding toward all his things, earning a wholehearted laugh from you quickly disagreeing. 

“Yeah? I really wish I could put myself out there like that, I’m tutoring to make up for the fact I don’t do anything else but study.” You shook your head, playing with the pen between your fingers with your gaze set on the sunlighy shining on the table.

“Well I wish I didn’t do all of–”

“Don’t lie.” You cut him off, turning towards him quickly causing the both of you to laugh softly, your lips turned into a grin as you forcefully peeled your gaze away from his dimple that caught your eye. Sunghoon could only admire you from the side, smugly grinning at how you’d get so shy from meeting his gaze while your fingers busied themselves playing with the pages from your notebook. 

He understood why all the guys on the team wanted you as their tutor, what was better than a pretty girl spending her evening with you in the library or cafe? Your cute flustered expression when he smiled at you or when he caught you smiling back, it all made sense to him. Sunghoon made a mental note to inform the others you weren’t looking for any more tutees, and he only hoped they will believe him.

When he was called into the professor's office he really thought it was the end for him, with graduation around the corner and a science class holding him back from sweet victory; nervousness was an understatement. Shitting his pants would’ve been a better way to describe the feeling pooling in his gut when he saw a big red 43 plastered on the recent unit exam. But when he saw your small confused face peering up at him he knew he lucked out this time. 

You were known to take kids who look like they don’t have a single thought behind their eyes and tutor them into high B passing students. He was sure anyone else tutoring him would’ve helped with an extra brain processing his mistakes, but he was glad it was you. 

Third week of tutoring and you noted Sunghoon worked hard— and worked harder when he knew there was a reward for his accomplishments. A coffee stop before class or a meal before practice, you kept your promise and rewarded him for the commitment you knew he put in. What started as a reward for his improving quiz grades turned into what you felt was a normalized occurrence.

‘Wanna grab a meal from the cafeteria? I’ll drop you off after.’

‘Let’s meet before class for a bit, I want to see you.’

‘Are you free later today? We should go watch that new movie you were talking about.’

He explained it was just the athlete in him addicted to the dopamine he got when he succeeded, specifically doing good in class; but you argued it was just a way for him to trick you to agree into doing things he wanted. Hell he didn’t even know how dopamine worked up until last week’s study session. 

“Sunghoon you can literally ask for anything else, I’ll even buy you dinner again just not this.” You sighed, holding up the singular ticket he presented you as his wish for earning a 90 on his exam; the highest he’s received yet. 

“Y/N you said I can ask for whatever I wanted.” he pointed out, tapping the back of your seat with his fingers watching you groan at the thought of attending this weekend. 

“This is seriously what you want?” watching his court nod your lips pressed in a tight line before sighing in defeat. A promise is a promise, and you were one to keep promises. 

“Fine just please study this well for the next exam coming up.” You didn’t earn a response, but the cheeky dimple and upturned brows told you that if studying well meant pulling you to do things like attending his game to support him— Sunghoon promised to turn into Einstien. He’ll be reborn as Issac Newton himself if that’s what it took. 

“Oh and—” turning back to him your eyes widened slightly feeling his fingers graze against your back, a simple action you still haven’t grown used to lately. “Sunghoon, no.” you refused shaking your head wholeheartedly, seeing him pull out a jersey from his duffle bag with a smirk on his face as he laughed to himself.

“You didn’t even let me explain.” He reasoned, eyes twinkling watching you continue to disagree, mumbling about how ridiculous this was since you already agreed to even go in the first place. 

“Y/N how weird would it be to show up and not show off who you’re supporting?” He hummed, pushing his jersey from last year over to your side. “Hoon I think people are gonna think it’s weird regardless.” You whispered, knowing the type of people he was around would already view it odd you came in the first place. Sunghoon was someone you thought you’d only admire from afar, his likable personality and seemingly good looks made a memorable first impression not only on you but apparently to every living— breathing eligible girl on campus.

The looks and whispers anyone with a working brain would dread were to be expected if you walked into that stadium with his jersey, you were already getting looks from simply walking with him to class. 

Sunghoon was just someone you weren’t supposed to mingle with, as crazy as it sounded; opposites weren’t supposed to attract. There were plenty of girls in his social circle you knew were interested in him— it just felt wrong, scary even that you and Sunghoon were this close. 

“Hey…don’t think like that,” He reassured you, brushing a few strands of hair away while you stared at him, admiring the pinches of electricity shifting across your cheek when his fingertips grazed against your skin. In the many weeks you and Sunghoon have hung out, you realized he was a lot different from what you assumed. 

He was sensitive; you concluded that when he received his first quiz two weeks after your first session. His grade wasn’t— what the two of you were aiming for, and it was evident in his expression how disappointed he was in himself. After your constant reassurance that learning was about process and progress; not instant results, you grew to appreciate his soft grin and high shoulders that were filled with confidence and motivation. 

But he was also very attentive, even on days you didn’t feel your best Sunghoon was always understanding without having to say anything. And you were grateful, you tend to hold back and push through with plans even when you didn’t feel in the best shape, especially for your tutees. Sunghoon didn’t jest around much on days he saw you weren’t responding how you usually did, and he still managed to find time to ask if you were okay. Cheering you up in ways that had your cheeks flushing and heart racing. 

It was like skinship came naturally for the two of you, what started off as friendly nudges and taps on the arm shifted to his hand casually drawing lines on your back, your fingers tracing the veins on his arm or your shoulders casually touching while sitting beside one another. Things just felt comfortable with him, you realized that the one day the two of you were at his apartment, the library was starting to become a distraction but looking back— you weren’t sure if his place was much better.

While working on genomes and thermodynamics the two of you often shared snacks with one another, however when your eyes caught his pink lips around your bottle of coke you realized then and there that you and Sunghoon were more than tutor and tutee, more than friends. He made that known when you felt the same pink lips press a kiss on your temples after bidding you goodbye, making sure you made it inside your condo before he left, a small pep in his step noted while catching one last glimpse at him.

“Just think about it, hm?” he nodded toward you, bottom lip pulled between his teeth watching you roll your eyes before stuffing the jersey in your bag, ushering him to continue studying much to his resistance. 

“So are you gonna wear his jersey?” your friend sang with a smirk ghosting her lips, watching you hastily fix your hair in the mirror that she quickly helped you with not that long ago, fixing the top you picked to avoid that exact question purposely. It was the day of his game and you were already running slightly (really) behind schedule from a last-minute tutoring session you were asked to do despite making sure to state this weekend— you were unavailable. 

The game started a couple of minutes ago and it would take almost thirty minutes for you to get to the arena.

“Do I look good?” You asked her nervously, palms clammy against your jeans realizing what you got yourself into. 

“You look cute babe, Sunghoon is gonna miss every three-pointer with you in the crowd.” She joked, yelping in response when a dry shampoo bottle was thrown her way. “Naeun I’m serious, people are already gonna look at me weird for being there— the least you can do is make sure nothing is stuck between my teeth.” You whined, checking yourself in the mirror again out of pure paranoia.

“Y/N the only reason why they’ll be looking at you is because the Y/N is there for Park Sunghoon, so go! You’re late already.”

“Your seat is in row 4, enjoy! Go Cougs!” Awkwardly grabbing the ticket you were greeted by rows and rows of students cheering for the ongoing game, it was almost halftime and the team was a little under fifteen points. Excusing yourself through the crowd— you realized where exactly Sunghoon’s extra ticket landed you. 

Maneuvering through, you did your best to ignore the glances from some of the girls you recognized, they were people who frequently hung around the team; people whose crowd you weren’t a part of. Gratefully you weren’t seated beside any of them but figured this was the guest section for the team, you saw both students and family seated in the area. 

“Oh? Are you here for Sunghoon hyung?” A voice pulled you from your observation, glancing down you noted a younger boy looking up at you; dressed in your school colors with a sticker decorating his rather full cheek— a slushy in one hand and a pretzel in the other. He was cute, his wide eyes waiting for your answer as you smiled at how adorable he looked. 

“What made it obvious?” You asked him in a whisper, giggling slightly when his eyes crinkled in a smile pointing back at you. 

“Y/N!” Sunghoon’s sudden voice made you snap your gaze to the court, your eyes meeting his almost instantly. Breathing was human nature, a biological process of the body responding to your blood oxygen levels with an automatic retort that you’re born with instantly; yet somehow when you see Sunghoon every now and then, you forget how to breathe sometimes. 

The few strands of hair sticking against his temples distract you from his absolutely dazzling smile and shining eyes that grew in size making you smile shyly. Glancing down, you coughed awkwardly, feeling his jersey's smooth fabric against your fingers. Before heading out the door, the white jersey caught your eye and had you changing in the livingroom before leaving.

You were here for Sunghoon and you wanted him to feel like you were too, and by the deep dimple showcasing on his face, you knew you made the right decision. 

Raising your brow— you quirked your head towards the scoreboard, you didn’t need to say anything because Sunghoon knew exactly what you meant from your expression alone. 

‘You invited me to your game just to lose?’ snickering at the way drops of sweat shook from the tips of his hair, you scoffed watching his shoulders raise proudly when a few of his teammates noted your presence in the crowd. You were never one to be interested in sports, but after another quarter into the game; you were one of the many that were standing in your seat, watching the tick of the clock count down and the score narrow with each pass on the court. 

“Sunghoon..” You whispered, fingers clutching in anxiety noting the clock hitting the twenty-second mark, he needed to shoot a three-pointer for the team to finally take the lead and ultimately win the game. With his eyes darting across the court Sunghoon has never felt this much pressure in his whole entire life. The game was whatever, he had plenty more games to play and win, but the past few months have been hell for him. 

With graduation around the corner, he didn’t really have any more time to ‘play’ on the court, plans after graduation? No clue. Did he have enough credits to actually graduate? Another problem at a later time. Was the girl he’s been dying to ask out finally warming up to him? Well... 

Meeting you has been one of the best if not the best thing that has happened to him in a while, not only were you practically carrying him to the graduation finish line, you seemed to make even the unexpected— exciting, comforting even. Things just got more bearable for him since you’ve been around.

Even now with the whole fate of the game twirling between his fingers, he couldn’t help but smile knowing you were there in the crowd, there for him. The moment he saw you sitting in his jersey he knew these feelings weren’t just mere lingering feelings that come and go, what a plot twist you were. 

“Sunghoon!” Your voice always caught his attention, even now in a crowd of roaring support or those who wished for the opposite, it was like he could only hear you. He wasn’t sure what to expect when he first walked into the professor's office that one day, but he wouldn’t wish for it any other way. 

“Sunghoon shoot the fucking ball?!” Blinking at your unexpected exclamation his body automatically did what he did best, react in stressful situations— muscle memory from what he recalled you teaching him. With the sound of the ball rolling around the rim, Sunghoon could only let out a sigh of relief when the roar from the student section doubled, quadrupled even after the basketball bounced on the court after scoring the final basket. 

They fucking won.

Jumping from excitement you finally understood why people attend games in person, the experience was so different, exhilarating. It was like regardless of who you were, everyone was there cheering for the same thing, even the girls who were looking at you earlier were cheering with you, bright smiles filled with pride and joy despite how indifferent they were to you earlier. 

In the midst of the crowd, you made your way through the bodies of people making sure to say goodbye to the small boy who accompanied you during the game. You were grateful he made sure to explain the rules of the court— it only made things easier to catch on. Gasping in shock, you felt someone grab your wrist stopping you hastily, Sunghoon. 

“Congrats on winning Hoon!” You cheered, smiling widely as other students and teammates congratulated him with pats on the back and chants of victory. “It’s hard not to when someone yelling at me from the stands, ‘Sunghoon shoot the fucking ball!’ ” he mocked jokingly, his fingers finding the slim of your wrist after you brought your hands up to push his shoulder. With your eyes glued on each other, you couldn’t help but grin softly as you felt his fingers melt down your wrist and between your own. Even with the chaos around the two of you, with him, things felt like the way they should be.

A comfort you never felt with anyone else in midst of what used to be unfamiliarity. You found yourself following Sunghoon to the celebration after, your laughs filling the night sky as the two of you sat on the rooftop of the science building; looking over a lit-up field filled with Uni students drinking in victory. The cool breeze tickled your lashes as you took in the smell of flowers and plants that lined the railings and wooden pergola that was decorated with string lights. You’ve been here a few times for a couple of labs and projects, legs dangling over the side admiring the sound of distant music from the field afar.

“You take all girls you talk to here after your games?” rolling the bottle of beer between your palms, you raised a brow when he hesitated, his dark ones furrowed as a contemplating hum left his lips. Gapping you slid over slightly, mumbling in disbelief ignoring his chuckle promising he was just joking. 

“You might be like…the third?” He continued, scratching the nape of his neck watching your eyes double in size before you nodded to his honest answer. “So, who was it?” You asked nonchalantly. 

“To be honest I don’t think Sieun counts if she was my lab partner last semester, right?” he sighed, attempting to grab your hand only to be pushed away quickly. Sunghoon loved this part of you, trying your best to hide the relief in your eyes by shaking off the hand he purposely placed on your shoulder. It was cute, your slightly upset expression and groans accompanied by puffed-out cheeks, he loved it all. 

“Sieun?” You repeated, recognizing her as a classmate from your past Chemistry course. You didn’t notice but his eyes were trailing across your shoulders that rose absentmindedly from realization, taking the chance to move closer his lips bit back a smile— glad that your eyes were finally looking up at him. 

Turning away with a cough, you were able to catch yourself before falling right into his little charm, if it wasn’t Sieun there was still another girl who was here before you he hasn’t mentioned. It seemed stupid really, what were you expecting— someone like Sunghoon had girls waiting for him around the corner at every class, he was different from you. It was stupid for you to ask the question knowing you weren’t going to like the answer.

“I guess Professor Oh doesn’t count either— she was the one who lead us up here for the whole experiment and all.” he finally stated, with a sly smile his chuckle rang in your ear watching you realize he was messing with you the whole time. Much to your horror you were glad that was the truth.

With your legs swinging over the side, you flinched slightly when the breeze blew against your skin. It was pretty chilly that night and in a rush you forgot to grab the jacket you had laid out on the couch. The sound of Sunghoon shuffling pulled you back into the moment as you watched him shrug off his varsity jacket, placing it over your shoulders much to your dismay. 

Muttering a small ‘thanks’, you giggled when Sunghoon nudged your side with his elbow, making it annoyingly obvious he wasn’t going to move away anytime soon, you were used to this, his little antics that always had you smiling to the point the apples of your cheeks ached. “Thanks for coming today Y/N— I mean it really.” he softly muttered meeting your eyes that smiled back at him. 

“Of course, I came— I told you I keep promises.” You whispered back, your smiling fading slowly feeling his finger slowly grab onto yours.

“So if you promise to keep coming to my games…you will?” he challenged, gripping your hand softly as you nodded firmly. 

“And you promise we’ll keep studying together, even after the next exam?” 

“Only if you want to Hoon.”

“Then can you promise—” he paused; bringing your intertwined fingers up to his lips, the glint in his eye shining brighter than the string lights that could be mistaken as fireflies above you. It was a feeling you’ve never felt before, you wonder at times if meeting Sunghoon in these circumstances was a coincidence, maybe if you weren’t so different from him you wouldn’t think this was all a mistake. But in moments like this, when it was just the two of you in each other’s ambiance and warmth you hoped those mistakes only took you to the right place— with Sunghoon.

“Promise we’ll stay like this.” his words echoing as the two of you sat gazing at each other intently, his thumb rubbing circles around your skin as you nodded softly with a small smile. How strange was this you thought, sitting here with him felt like a dream— but you were wide awake. Feeling him lean in slightly; your fingers gripped his as the warmth of his sigh cascaded across your cheek, his bangs tickling your forehead feeling his nose brushed against yours softly. Inhaling softly you gasp when his lip touched yours ever so gently, his mole you’ve only glanced at when he wasn’t looking was staring right at you.

“Yo Sunghoon! You going to that party later this week?” A sudden voice surprised you from down below, pulling away quickly you chugged a gulp of beer eyeing the frat symbol on the jacket the boy was wearing. “Yeah, it’s Jay’s birthday, right? Think I promised a friend I was going.” he huffed out, slightly unamused from the disruption leaning on the side with one hand. 

“Hey Y/N…” the guy greeted, his smile hinting a teasing tone before walking away quickly back towards the field. “You should come this weekend it’ll be fun, promise?” You heard him whisper, his lip brushing the shell of your ear softly and you had no choice but to nod.

 And you truly wished you didn’t.

The weekend came in a blink of an eye and you found yourself surrounded by classmates you’ve seen around but never got the chance to mingle with. You would’ve never guessed you’d be asking Naeun for help picking an outfit for tonight but you found yourself not believing in a lot of things when it came to Sunghoon. 

“Waiting for me?” You heard someone say from behind, his familiar warmth spreading across your back as a smile made its way to your lips. “Sunghoon.” You whispered, turning to embrace him as you admired his styled-up hair and simple grin. 

All sense of insecurity washed away feeling him pull you in a hug, greeting his friends passing by with a bright smile as you held your drink over his shoulders; a red cup in one hand while the other patted him softly. You couldn’t help but laugh feeling him turn you in different directions to say hello to everyone greeting him. He was here with you, and he made sure to make that painfully obvious. 

Since that night on the rooftop, neither you nor Sunghoon addressed the almost kiss the two of you shared—embarrassment on your part and your gut, more like Naeun’s input, told you it was gonna happen tonight…something was. At this point, it’s been a few months since you and Sunghoon have grown close, and your feelings have grown over time and so have his affections around you. 

Sunghoon wasn’t afraid to make it known you were with him, whether it be holding your hand as the two of you walked on campus or stopping by classes to pick you up after lectures. He’s made a home in your apartment and you could only wonder where things would lead for the two of you if he just popped the question.

“Sunghoon the girl you showed up with just ran out.” You heard his friend whisper, his eyes suddenly darting around before pulling out his phone. You knew Sunghoon came with a friend, and you couldn’t help but worry as well seeing how panicked he was scrolling through his contacts. You’ve seen her around before, a music major— you guessed the two of them knew each other from a class or club. 

“Hey can you stay here and wait for me? I’ll make it quick I promise baby.” You heard him hastily whisper, leaving you standing there nodding absentmindedly as he made his way through the crowd. 

When twenty minutes turned into an hour, you found yourself sitting on the couch, checking your phone in hopes of seeing his name pop up asking where you were in the unfamiliar place. Your heart immediately jumped feeling the buzz of your notification ignoring the way the people around you were wondering why you were suddenly sitting alone, silently alone after socializing with others not that long ago. 

“Naeun?” You answered quietly, digging your fingers into the fabric of the couch as you tried to tune out the mix of music and voices you couldn’t seem to understand from around you. 

“I’m at the party waiting for Sunghoon but—” You flinched; yelping when someone jumped over you— laughing a hasty ‘sorry’. You reassured her you were fine but by the way your voice was trembling, she knew you were lying. 

Biting your lip you could hear her concern laced voice asking you again if you were okay. Naeun offered to come along but you assured her Sunghoon would take care of you, Sunghoon would be here for you, Sunghoon—-

“Hey you’re here with Park right?” an unfamiliar voice pulled you away from call, a faint ‘I’m on my way’ brushing past your ears. Nodding, your eyes widened in realization it was Sunghoon’s friend from earlier. Naeun had hung up long ago and despite ignoring the male trying to pull you into a conversation, your mind couldn’t help but drift wondering where Sunghoon disappeared off to.

“I’m honestly surprised Sunghoon kept you around for how long he did.” Snapping your attention back to the man, your furrowed brows were enough to tell him he finally piqued your interest. “Sunghoon left a while ago with some girl, she wasn’t the one who he showed up with but he seemed pretty happy to leave.” The male shrugged, your head shaking in disbelief taking another look at your phone still cleared of notifications. 

“No he said he was coming right back— he promised.” You argued softly, tensing when you felt him throw an arm over your shoulder before a red cup disrupted your view. 

You weren’t sure how many cups you’d had since then, the colored lights blurring together while your cheek was leaned against whoever the fuck was closest to you. Naeun was nowhere to be seen and you could feel the alcohol hitting your system harder than it ever had before. Sunghoon still wasn’t here, you didn’t want to believe he left you here for another girl— but with no text and no sign of him anywhere, maybe it was true. His friend from earlier seemed to have disappeared as well, your last memory of him was asking you to take another shot before someone else piqued his interest. 

“Y/N. Y/N stand up.” Shaking your head you threw your arm over the familiar girl who mumbled to whoever was next to you in annoyance. 

“Sunghoon—” 

“He’s not coming let’s go.” You heard her firmly say, dragging you carefully out of the house with your feet tripping over themselves down the stairs. Catching a brief view of the clock you realized it’s been four hours since Sunghoon said he’d be back. 

“Naeun let go he’s coming back!” 

“Y/N he’s not! I asked around while looking for you and they said he fucking left a while ago, he’s not coming so snap out of it.” she struggled to say, her teeth gritting together from dragging you to sit on the curbside watching the realization settle in your eyes he really did leave with someone else—when he promised. 

You were prepared for this, sort of, someone like Sunghoon was just never made to be with someone like you, it was too good to be true. 

You ready for this,or so you thought, the utter realization that maybe this was all fun and games for him until he got bored and moved onto the next. 

You expected this, though you wished for it to never happen, yet somehow it still hurt.

“He promised.” You whispered, a tear escaping down your cheek as Naeun stood there in pity, slowly engulfed in the cloud of grief overtaking your eyes and mind— and all she could do was hope the pain would go away, or so she promised, but since that night you weren’t too sure about promises anymore.

“Ms Kim!” 

“I’m so sorry, is everyone done with the quiz?” You asked while standing from your desk, smiling at the students who nodded in unison as you collected the sheets of paper passed to the front in stacks. You’ve had a rough weekend, on top of preparing for the upcoming faculty meeting you were still processing the reality that Sunghoon was indeed the new teacher in the literature department—and the new coach. With the bell ringing you dismissed everyone who seemed to be in high spirits after hearing that you weren’t assigning any homework for today. 

Sitting back down you hummed in acknowledgment seeing both Jungwon and Niki by your desk, the coffee you had earlier cold in your palms grinning at the both of them shifting in their place nervously. After your talk with Sunghoon last week, the boys told you he was adamant about practice hours— being that stubborn you didn’t expect anything less.

“So can I expect to see the two of you later for tutoring? Or am I going to stop by practice to pull the both of you out myself?” Arduously looking at the two boys, you knew the answer was the latter; by their tight smiles, they didn’t have much of a choice. 

You were hoping— slightly hoping Sunghoon had it in him to not be an asshole making you walk all the way to the gym where practice was being held, especially not in your stilettos. He’s always been this way, the first couple of days the two of you studied together you concluded he wasn’t much of a listener nor much of a compromiser.

And when it was time to start after school tutoring, you could only tap your heel as it’s been ten minutes since you were scheduled to start.

“Mother fucker.” You hushed under your breath, shooting up in your chair hastily, you did your best to ignore the looks from your students waiting for tutoring to start at their desks. With your heels clicking against the tiles you quickly found your way to the gym, the sound of whistles and basketballs bouncing against the gym floor echoed through the opened doors as you walked in. 

It was a familiar feeling, quite familiar noting Sunghoon from across the court with a clipboard in one hand and a whistle in the other. You weren’t sure what overcame you, but you found yourself bee-lining towards the blonde— his brow quirked up from your sudden appearance.

Switching practice times was something Sunghoon just— felt like doing, well not really. Seeing you here was one of the last cursed encounters he expected to face after the last time the two of you met eyes years ago. 

When your widened eyes greeted him that evening, something instantly sparked in him, nostalgia? He wasn’t sure if it was the good or bad kind yet— it felt surreal in a way. The one girl he wished he met sooner back in college was the science teacher at the new high school he was transferred to for the spring semester. 

You were different, so different from the last time he’d seen you. Your usual smile that warmed his heart back then was now replaced with an unfamiliar one, a tired gaze that seemed so distant from the ones that used to look up at him in affection. Your hair was longer than before and it was weird to see you dressed in business attire when he only remembered your casual ones. 

And then it hit him—it has been a while. 

He liked to believe things stayed how they were before, he hoped they did— and maybe they were.

“I told you to change practice hours, how are you a literature teacher who lacks comprehension skills?”

Well, it wouldn’t be the first time he was wrong about something.

Practice was going well today, the students were finally back into a healthy energetic mindset after weeks of exams. He was aware of the eligibility rule and your request but seeing how tired most of them were, he knew it was important to let his athletes have that extra three hours of sleep. As a former student-athlete, Sunghoon knew how important it was for rest and recovery, he’ll do what he has to do to ensure his students got just that. 

“You said I lack comprehension skills?” he huffed amused, his eyes on your figure recovering from walking across campus, your face visibly flushed from being winded and irritated. 

“Ms.Kim this is a closed practice, does that mean you lack common courtesy to follow rules?” he argued back, roughly shoving the clipboard to the assistant without hesitation– earning a surprised grunt from the poor man.

You could practically feel your eye twitch watching the smug look overtake his features, enjoying the frustration seething from your eyes in real time. 

“Maybe don’t leave the gym doors open next time if it’s a closed practice, plus Coach Lee let me in.” You grinned phonily, your upturned smile dropping instantly pushing past him as your eyes scanned the court for Niki and Jungwon. Many of the students greeted you politely despite being in the midst of drills and training. Calling their names they immediately ran towards you, a conflicted expression painting their face as a whistle was blown directly behind you. 

Flinching you were greeted with a now annoyed Sunghoon eyeing the two boys behind you who were ready to leave with their things. 

“Move and I’m not going to repeat myself, Mr.Park.” You exhaled tremulously, your words not really reaching his ears after noticing exactly how close you were after turning to face him. 

“Don’t disrupt my practice again or I promise you’ll be dealing with a lot more than conflicting hours,” he whispered, his brows furrowing at the way your pupils wavered softly. You almost scoffed really, here you were face to face to Park Sunghoon after a long time.

You had every right and opportunity to confront him, yell at him even; asking why he left that night and why he never bothered to call or text after. The two of you after that party went back to how you were before— strangers.

Instead here you were merely inches away staring at the mole beside his nose you remember clearly. His minty breath fanned your lashes after the huffed out a sigh of disbelief. He could have ended up at any other high school, why did it have to be here? 

“I don’t think you’re someone who should be making promises Sunghoon.” You sneered in a whisper, his eyes widening slightly before dropping the silver whistle from his lips. Scoffing softly you called for the two to follow you and thankfully, they did. With your heels clicking against the court, you did your best to ignore the burning sensation spreading through your chest, nodding at the students bidding you goodbye with a smile. 

“I guess your talk with Coach didn’t go well the other day.”  You heard Jungwon whisper, a small chuckle to lighten the mood which you appreciated. “Let’s just say Coach Park and I know each other well.” opening the door to the class with a huff, you apologized to the other kids with a smile. 

“We can come every other day— if that’s okay,” Niki suggested, setting his bag on the floor taking a seat next to his teammate.

“Is he going to allow you to come every other day?” You asked with a raised brow,  seeing the both of them nod genuinely you heaved a sigh and smiled softly. And to your surprise, they did come every other day, you haven’t seen Sunghoon since then, and thankfully so. 

Making sure to ignore him in the faculty lounge during lunches— you even committed to coming early hours in the morning to print all your things just to avoid him in the storage units. It’s been exactly four days since your heated argument with him— Naeun saying it was fate when you mentioned it to her over the phone. 

“Fate my asshole.” you cursed, gripping your shoulder bag as you got off the terminal making your way to work. It was the day of the faculty meeting you’ve dreaded while preparing for— Ms.Go appointed you as the new head of the science department at the last meeting and not many people were too fond of that. Greeting your other colleagues your eyes trailed over those who were smiling while greeting you a hello. Some were your friends and seniors you looked up to while others were just those who respected you and your efforts for your job.

“Someone is sitting here—from my department.” Blinking at the women your gaze settled on her hand blocking the chair you were going to pull out to sit in. That was a lie, you knew it was. With good people also came the ones who weren’t that nice when the news dropped that you were appointed to the new position. Nodding an apology you couldn’t help but chew on your bottom noting the only other seat left unoccupied. 

Slowly setting your bag on the floor you pulled out all the paperwork needed for the meeting starting soon, ignoring the obvious stare on your right as you huffed out a sigh. Not able to ignore it any longer you gave the blonde a curt nod, brows furrowing as he didn’t acknowledge your greeting at all. 

“Oh? Y/N!” A familiar voice caused you to look up from your files, grinning at the familiar smile walking back to his seat with a cup of coffee. 

“Coach Lee!” You snickered softly, eyeing the extra cup of coffee he pushed towards you trying to ignore the looks from some of the older ladies down the table. Jeno was another Coach at the school for the soccer team who was also head of the math department. Being similar in age the two of you got along as assistants when you first started.

“Thank you..” giving him a soft whisper, you admired the swirls of creme floating on top of the expresso, a sigh escaping from you feeling the warmth spread between your fingers. After a couple of savoring sips, you paused as something—more like someone, was bothering you. You could only watch as Sunghoon glanced between you and the cup of coffee between your palms. His dark brows in a stern frown before scoffing and fixing his tie; it was the first time you had a good look at Sunghoon outside of his baggy sports attire after so long. 

His tall nose and pushed-up hair perfectly enhanced his face while the white dress shirt snugged nicely against his shoulders. He had grown into his features, that boyish charm now replaced with a cold stare and small frown. 

What was his problem? It wasn’t like you wanted to sit here in the first place, sneering slightly you took one last sip; purposefully glaring at him when your eye caught his gaze once again. 

“Are you ready for the presentation? I know it’s your first one since becoming the head of your department.” You heard Jeno ask you, nodding you smiled glancing at all the paperwork you were able to compress into a ten-fifteen-minute presentation.

“I’m not going to lie I had some trouble since there’s so much to talk about but— I think I did good.” You nodded, catching his smile as he pulled out his own set of notes. “Well, you ever need my help you can always ask me, you know my hours and my email.” With a thankful nod, your smile dropped hearing someone scoff beside you— a little too loudly you noted, glancing at the blonde with an irritated glint.

Before you could ask him what his problem was Ms. Go entered the room as everyone stood to greet her respectfully. As she caught your figure her smile widened in acknowledgment that you knew many people took note of, with everyone taking their seats you could feel your palms grow clammy as each department presented one by one. Jeno’s bright smile and convincing talk about changing the math curriculum passed quicker than you expected which meant one thing, it was your turn soon— next actually.

“Ms.Kim you’re up.”

Heaving out a shaky ‘yes’ your legs felt like jelly as you gathered all your notes, glancing at the other teachers in your department giving you an encouraging smile as you passed them walking to the front. The sound of your heels clicking against the floor seemed to be the only thing echoing in your thoughts as the gazes and judgmental stares seemed to have filled your vision making you visibly tense. It was true, there were many teachers here with way more years of experience and opinions but Ms.Go and the board choose you for a reason— that’s what you kept telling yourself. After a brief introduction, you noted Ms.Go’s intent gaze causing you to stutter slightly. 

“After working with the students and seeing the science program here, I have some changes that I believe would be beneficial.” Despite the scoffs heard from a few, you could feel the relief wash over you as Ms.Go nodded writing down some notes. “Looking at the curriculum a lot of the lesson plans are very outdated and don’t tend to the needs of the students now— I suggest we change our approach on what we expect from the kids. Things have changed in the new age which makes it only appropriate to change how we teach as well.” 

“And we trust the kids in your hands why?” Trying your best to hold back the frown leaking through your stiff smile you turned to Ms.Jung who was part of the literature and linguistics department, honesty you were expecting this type of question to come up somewhere in your presentation. However, when some of your other colleagues began dabbling in the conversation, you couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed at the amount of unwanted opinions directed towards you and the other teachers in your department. 

“Why would I take your word when I’ve been doing this for as long you’ve been alive.” Ms.Jung scoffed– her face clearly satisfied by the mess she caused making you look down in embarrassment. 

“What type of meeting is this if no one listens to what is being presented.” The sudden silence was caused by Sunghoon’s slightly irritated tone, his brows in a deep frown while tapping his pen against the desk in a steady beat. 

“Who do you think you’re talking to young man? I heard you’re new here and that’s how you treat your seniors—”

“What kind of seniors treats their younger colleagues that way? Ms.Kim is obviously really passionate and good at her job if she’s the science department leader… I think she knows better than anyone here what to do with the students,” he interjected, observing the way Ms.Jung looked taken aback by his sudden comment, a smug look casting over his face.

“It’s true since Ms.Kim became one of the main teachers— our science sector has seen tremendous amounts of improvement in overall scores and individual performances.” Ms.Go added with a nod, a small genuine smile making its way to your face with a humble nod. 

“Working with Ms.Kim I trust her enough to listen— I hope everyone can as well.” Surprised, you gave Jeno a grateful grin before you continued your presentation, your eyes catching Sunghoon’s deepen frown making you look away confused every once in a while. He was the one who helped you in the first place so why did he look so upset? 

However, you were unaware that his frown wasn’t directed towards you— but instead to Jeno who added a comment earlier he considered unnecessary, very unnecessary. 

After the meeting ended you searched for Sunghoon who already made his way out of the faculty room. You wanted to thank him for deescalating the situation earlier but he never gave you a second glance the moment you sat down again beside him. Making your way through the crowd, your eye searched for the blonde male making his way down the hall before pausing at your voice calling for him. 

“Hey.” You huffed fixing the bag on your shoulder, awkwardly glancing down to his hand gripping his own bag beside him. The cold air blowing from the conditioner made you shiver, you didn’t realize but your voice came out a lot softer than you expected. “I just wanted to say thank you— for earlier you know.” You could only watch as Sunghoon stared down at you, his head nodding in acknowledgment before turning away slowly. 

“Wait!” You didn’t know what prompted you to grab his blazer, maybe it was the way you haven’t heard his voice in so long, but all you wanted was to savor this moment with him a little longer. 

“I’ll buy you a coffee, my treat.” the offer quickly slipping from your lips.

“This wasn’t what I was thinking.” You heard him scoff beside you, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed as you mixed coffee and some milk from the faculty vending machine. With a grin you shrugged your shoulders, ripping some sugar packets before whisking with a spoon, a drink that you often had going through hell and back since working here. 

“Well Coach Lee and I would whip this up for each other ever since the both of us started as assistants, it’s my treat so be grateful at least.” You mumbled, throwing away all the trash while admiring the way the coffee swirled from the momentum of your mixing. His expression still cold as he pulled his phone from his pocket ignoring your statement.

You didn’t know why but this was making you slightly annoyed— hurt even. The two of you were colleagues now and you were doing your best to extend an olive branch despite what happened in the past. The least he could do was— 

Your eyes widen slightly at an unfamiliar scent mixed with the bitterness of the coffee, lashes fluttering as you felt his arm brush your chest faintly. Grabbing the cup of coffee from your grasp, you could only watch as Sunghoon took a sip from the drink, his furrowed brows relaxing softly seeing you look up to him in a daze. 

“I didn’t say I wasn’t going to drink it— jeez.” Taking another long sip, your lips lifted slightly seeing him finish the drink in one go. 

“The coffee isn’t going to run away from you Mr. Park slow down.” You huffed, picking up your bag before making your way to the door; a slight warmth spreading throughout your chest hearing him call out your name as you didn’t bother turning back. 

Since then none of the other teachers have bothered you in and out of the faculty meetings, you weren’t sure if it was because of Sunghoon or the fact they’ve accepted your new position— but it was one less thing to worry about. And to your surprise since your little barista session, the two of you kept it respectful and greeted each other whether it be passing in the halls or coincidentally seeing each other in the storage room; it was better than acting like each other’s existence didn’t matter because deep down— you at least knew it did.

“Right, so you need to move all the pH variables to this side and—” While helping some of the kids, you were interrupted by the sound of your door opening hastily. Immediately fixing your posture, your eyes widened at the sight of Sunghoon standing at the doorway with Niki and Jungwon. His gaze looked around the room almost in embarrassment with his hands shoved in his track pants. It was the first time he was in your class after your first encounter at the start of the month.

“I forgot it was your day with the kids— here.” You heard him say, pushing the two who were still dressed in their athletic clothing as he huffed a cough from your soft greeting towards the both of them. 

“Well they’re doing really well recently so I wouldn’t have minded the two of them staying with you.” Pushing your hands into your back pockets, you stood next to Sunghoon after giving Jungwon a small pat on the back with a sigh. With the first big game against the rival school coming soon— you understood the need for practice on the court. 

“If I didn’t know what both of you were talking about I’d assume it was about co-parenting,” Niki mumbled throwing his bag on the floor after you failed to greet him the same way you did Jungwon. Hearing a few snickers from the other students you quickly denied his statement, blinking rapidly as you moved away from an equally flustered Sunghoon who was mentioning extra laps around the track if Niki didn’t get to work.

After a few minutes of settling everyone in their seats, you noted Sunghoon still by the door, “Are you not going to return to practice?” You asked him, watching his eyes flicker back to you after gazing into space again.

“Oh— my assistant has it covered, the boys are just doing a practice game so I don’t really need to be there.” He nodded ruffling his track pants quietly. With a nod you motioned for him to have a seat at the lab tables if he wished to. 

“Well you’re welcome to stay if you want to, I’m just going to go over a few topics before assigning practice worksheets.” You told him with a grin. Sunghoon obviously took the opportunity to stay as for the past couple of days; he purposely changed his route around campus to find more opportunities to run into you. 

It’s just been—- so long. Hearing your voice again somehow pulled him back into this warm serenity he’s been missing for years. Your soft laugh that rang like wedding bells in his ear resurfaced drowned out thoughts and emotions that kept him up during the night and distracted him during the day. Things didn’t end the way he wished—nor did they end the way he thought they would. 

He should’ve never asked you to go to that damn party, the two of you were fine before that whole hell hole. Sunghoon trusted you— trusted you when it came to tutoring him to his full potential and trusted you to be honest when it came to if his hair looked weird in the morning. But he never thought he had to question his trust when it came to your feelings towards him. 

One minute he left to go find a friend who was light years braver than him when it came to words of love and confession— and the next he came back to you with another person; another man. An acquaintance, one who never really had good things to say about him. To see you leaning against him with your face cradled into his neck sharing shots together, made his stomach drop.

Dread? Sorrow? Regret? 

What else was there to say, he hadn’t asked to you be his girlfriend officially yet since he was so scared. 

Of rejection? No. Commitment? No, so what was it?

There he was, standing in the midst of the party seeing you slip away from his fingers in what felt like seconds, and he never looked back. 

Pride? Prejudice? He was sure the english novel that was apart of his assignment at the time persuaded the labels listed but things seemed better off this way. He never reached out and you didn’t either— apart of him hoped you did, but seeing you pass him on campus reassured him that maybe he was expecting too much; and he did. 

Years later despite what happened, he couldn’t help but feel a part of him yearn for that fulfillment again. To feel your hands cradling his face, your voice warming him in love and solace. But he concluded since those days being someone who feels too deeply— is just too exhausting.

“Woah—” Sunghoon mumbled out of his daze, your hand slamming slightly on the lab table startled him as the students left one by one as it’s been almost an hour since tutoring started. “Tutoring is over, you can leave now Coach Park.” holding back a grin, you couldn’t help but snicker at his flustered expression, something you haven’t seen in a while. Sunghoon stood hastily— embarrassed as his two athletes were glancing at him with slight snickers.

“Hey! Be ready for practice tomorrow, on time or I’m adding two extra sets to each workout.” Despite Niki and Jungwon’s teasing gaze towards him as they left— ones you didn’t notice, Sunghoon couldn’t help but shift in place seeing you struggle to put all the chairs on top of the tables for evening cleaning. 

Moving to help you, the sound of the clock ticking and chairs scratching against the tile floor filled the unfamiliar silence that surrounded you btoh— unfamiliar in a way where for the first time in a while for you and him; the silence didn’t have to hurt anymore.

“Are you heading home soon?” You heard him ask beside you, glancing out the window with the sun setting in the distance; you let out a tired sigh with a nod. 

“Okay I’ll go grab my things and walk you to the lot, meet me in front.” Before you could deny his request he was already out your door in a blink. A small snicker escaped your lips as you swiftly went to gather your things, you weren’t sure what was going through that little mind of his at the moment, but a part of you was glad he wasn’t acting like the two of you were complete strangers. 

“Is your car this way?” you heard him ask, the two of you meeting outside your hall before walking to the front of the school.

“Uh— I’m actually taking the bus, my car is still in the dealer because the breaks were acting up last month.” running a hand through your hair you thanked him softly for walking you this far until you felt him grab ahold of your forearm. 

“Then I’ll just take you home it’s probably on the way—”

“No! I’ll probably stop by to get dinner, it’s fine really you don’t have to.” You reassured him, doing your best to pull away from his grasp that only tightened the more you resisted. 

“Then let’s just catch up.” His suggestion makes you pause in shock, “I should probably eat dinner too.” How could you say no, he was looking at you with those hopeful eyes again, a glint of excitement in them when you unconsciously nodded to his offer.

“Auntie can we have two bowls please!” you called out— greeting the workers you saw often at the local noodle shop with a smile sitting down across Sunghoon, you thanked the waiter who was placing drinks infront of the both of you. 

“You seem to come here often, is it that good?” His light-hearted comment caused you to chuckle as you passed him the utensils from the box. 

“Once you eat what I ordered you won’t question my taste again.” Slightly glaring at him your cheeks immediately lifted as his laugh filled the booth. 

“That’s what you said about that one pizza place on campus— I’m sure you remember the fish bones underneath the cheese.” he pointed out, his foot tapping yours slightly as your lips puckered at the memory of Sunghoon pulling out a few fish bones from his slice of pizza. 

It was one of your weekend dates where you offered to find a place for dinner, despite it being one of the worst meals you’ve had during college it was a sweet memory the two of you cherished.

“And there wasn’t even fish on the menu.” with your expression in a scrunch, a smile broke onto your face as Sunghoon’s dimple was full display, recalling the utter horror the both of you shared realizing the crunches on your pizza weren’t dried onions. 

“Okay this does look good…”Gawking at the bowl of hot noodles in front of him, Sunghoon couldn’t help but dig in as you nodded watching him sip the broth; savoring the taste and warmth of each spoonful. 

You and Sunghoon did have many cherishing moments together. Figured as time went by you could push down these memories and hopefully, they would fade away the same way your happiness did with each passing month. Maybe the storm brewing in your heart could wash away any traces of him you had left in your mind, but of course, those prayers went unanswered.

You hoped it was one of those instances where you missed the memories more than the person, but deep down you knew that wasn’t true. Just a mental coping mechanism to convince yourself the closure you never got wasn’t the one thing you needed to move on with what happened. 

Why? Self-depreciation perhaps, emotions do that to a person. Maybe it clicked that you simply refused to let go of the memories— feelings you felt when things were good till they weren’t as it was a reminder that what you had was a good thing that should’ve never ended. 

But maybe it needed to.

“You were right this place is pretty good.” He huffed a chuckle, watching your eyes travel back to your bowl as you scoffed slightly.

“Niki and Jungwon don’t have to come every other day anymore, they should be fine with eligibility just send them when you can.” You nodded finishing the last of your meal, Sunghoon sat watching you quietly as you hummed with each bite. You kept your habits over the years, fingers pushing your hair behind your ears ever so often to the way your eyes were unable to meet his when you spoke or caught his gaze by accident, it was all the same. 

“And I know I’ve said this already but seriously thank you—for speaking up during the meeting,” pausing your eyes met his as the soft music within the restaurant feathered your words of appreciation. 

“They haven’t bothered me since which takes so much stress off of me.” With a small laugh, you expected him to follow, but your expression falls short when you noted his contemplating eyes gazing down with a frown. 

With the two of you here in the moment, despite the cordial decency you wanted to keep, Sunghoon couldn’t help but wish to know the truth. In the few months it took for the two of you to grow close, there was always the unknown if you would be more than friends. After being accustomed to your minuscule characteristics and habits, something never truly settled right with him about what happened. 

You just weren’t that type of person.

If things never worked out between the both of you it would’ve been because a few reasons, but none of them being what he saw that night. Your slight aggression towards him now after the obvious change of attitude from that night told him maybe things weren’t the way it seemed.

“Stop thanking me, just take it as a very delayed thank you for helping me graduate.” He huffed out, making sure to keep the cordial atmosphere you tried so hard to create during work despite the curiosity brewing inside him. 

“Speaking of graduation, did you miss the ceremony? I don’t remember seeing you when I went for friends who were in the same major.” he finally spit out—his question obviously making you freeze, you weren’t expecting him to bring up anything from back then. 

But Sunghoon was always full of surprises.

“Uh— yeah I, actually attended an overseas internship so that required me to leave a few days before the ceremony.” Picking the vegetables in your bowl, you could practically feel his gaze burning holes into you. Sunghoon knew you were lying, but he wasn’t going to let you know that. 

“Are you sure it didn’t have anything to deal with what happened?” your jaw tensed as you set down the pair of chopsticks bringing your eyes to meet his. 

“And what exactly are you referring to Sunghoon?” voice tinted with anger taking in the solemn expression that suddenly overtook his face. 

“Are you recalling to the fact I was in between what I wanted to do with my major so I took an extra semester to graduate or the fact the both of us just— went back to pretending like we were strangers?” You didn’t know what snapped inside you, past anger and resentment like skeletons in a closet finally acknowledged for the first time; in a long time. 

“Strangers?” Sunghoon scoffed, trailing his eyes away from you to the empty booth beside you two in exasperation. “You think what happened was something that happened for the fuck of it? Is that all it was to you?” his tone cold looking back at you. 

Confusion? Indignation? You couldn’t pinpoint what exactly blossomed when your eyes met, but something made his eyes turn cold as the realization settled that you weren’t the only one hurting. Eyes that once looked at you with warmth and tenderness now looked at you in vexation. 

“You made a promise you couldn’t keep then left taking no responsibility like the coward you were.” slamming the money you found to cover the bill on the table, you stood from your seat in a hurry. You did your best to make things seem as if the two of you shared nothing more than a few classes back in college; normal— so why the hell did he have to show up in your life again when you were starting to realize what’s coming will be better than what was gone.

“Wait Y/N let’s just talk—”

“There’s nothing to talk about Sunghoon! You made things painfully clear that night so please just… pretend like we don’t know each other.” And with a frown you left, this whole acting normal bit was bullshit to begin with. Sitting back down in the booth Sunghoon couldn’t help but curse as the sight of your back leaving the shop quickly seemed a little too familiar. 

Instead of clarity, he left with more questions to fill his thoughts at night. 

“And you’re saying he was basically hinted you were the reason things didn’t work out.” Naeun pointed out; brows raised in revelation as the both of you were seated in your living room, cans of beer lining the coffee table alongside bags of snacks she prepared after asking her to come over. After your small altercation with Sunghoon last night you really needed another opinion on the situation— and a drink. 

“Well, he didn’t say it but it felt like he was insinuating it— I don’t know! Either way, I saw what I saw and heard what I heard, and you did too.” whining slightly you took one last gulp from the nearly empty can before crushing it within your palm. You thought it was ridiculous how Sunghoon had the impudence to turn this around on you, but what would be the reason?  

“Y/N just ignore him, it’s not worth thinking about it this much… I say you distract yourself with that cute coworker you’ve been friends with.” she chuckled passing you another can which you accepted with a frown. 

“You mean Jeno?” 

“Well— you said he was your type and the two of you get along well, I say why not.” she shrugged, nodding to the beat of the music playing from your speaker you let out a sigh of… consideration. 

It was true, the both of you always got along well, both in the work setting and away. Maybe you were too busy with forwarding your career, but you never thought about getting involved romantically with anyone else, that’s what you told yourself. 

And there was truth to it, in the years since you’ve accomplished a lot in your line of work. Aspirations became reachable goals, and you were finally at a point in your career which you considered stable for your age and experience. You wouldn’t lie and say you didn’t try to to talk to other men in these few years, but they just never worked out, they weren’t—

“Sunghoon is going to be a part of the school festival committee with you?” Blinking out from your daze, you nodded bringing your knees to your chest. “You make it sound like it’s just the two of us.” Chuckling slightly you popped open another can of beer to refresh the lingering bitterness on your tongue.

“But yes, the Science and Literature department are paired up for the festival. I’ll just do my best to ignore him but I’ll be hard if he keeps being confrontational.”

“Are you sure you’ll be fine?” Nodding at her softly you gave her a hug thanking her for coming over to make you feel better. 

“Go— your clingy boyfriend is about to call me again asking if you’re coming home.” With a smile she flicked you off before bidding you goodbye quietly in the hall outside of your condo.

Naeun always found you and Sunghoon odd, how such contrasting individuals were able to grow so fond of one another, adapt to each other so quickly and willingly. You were kind at heart with a mind that was filled with never-ending dreams while he was someone who lived in the moment with a dubious reserved mind. You’d think two people of similar nature would get along much better, but once she met her own lover in her grad years, she understood that wasn’t the case. 

“Yeah can I get one americano with milk please.” Glancing up from her phone, Naeun had to glance again to make sure what she saw— more like who, wasn’t who she thought it was. Naeun was here to have a drink before meeting with her boyfriend for a date to end the weekend, and the last person she expected to see was the guy her best friend was reviling last night.

“Park Sunghoon what are you doing here?” being just as shocked as she was, Sunghoon gave her an amused nod before walking over with his receipt. “She wasn’t lying when she said you were back huh, what are you doing getting coffee this afternoon.” Acknowledging his backpack she let out a hum when he told her he was here to fish a few assignments he had for upcoming lesson plans. 

Shifting on his feet, Sunghoon offered for them to take a seat recognizing that glint in Naeun’s glare that he knew well from before— she had questions, and he could guess about who.

“Did you know Y/N worked there before coming?” Being thrown off by the sudden question, Sunghoon couldn’t help but choke a bit on his coffee. Americano with milk and sugar, a staple he grew to love after you made him a slightly different version a while back at work. 

“If I knew she was here I wouldn’t have taken the offer.” With a raised brow Naeun couldn’t help but scoff slightly. 

“Wow you really do have the uttermost audacity.” leaning back in her chair as Sunghoon stared at her in confusion. 

“Listen I know you’re friends so you’d defend her despite anything and I’m not demeaning you for that—”

“And what would I be defending her for? Giving you a chance when other people were making her feel like she shouldn’t have? You broke her heart Sunghoon, embarrassed her in front of people who didn’t even know her.” Rolling her eyes Naeun was growing frustrated looking at the way his upset expression turned confused.

“Don’t act stupid Sunghoon people saw and told Y/N, people even told me that you left with some girl that night and never came back.” Sitting in silence, Naeun couldn’t help but cross her arms at the sudden quietude overcoming the table, the silent noise in the background filling the empty ambiance between the two. 

“Are you finally remembering now? Because I had to show up and pull Y/N off some—”

“Wait. Who told you that, who told her that? I told Y/N I was going to look for a friend— but I never left… she knows that.” A shift in his voice was clearly acknowledged by Naeun as she sat up in her seat shaking her head.

“I don’t know it was some guy she kept saying was your friend when I found her; drunk and delirious might I add, but she trusted you.” Disappointment laced her tone while Sunghoon looked away, thoughts running miles she could see, his eyes darting from the busy sidewalk outside back to the blending of coffee beans at the counter.

“I went to go talk to a friend— who I ended up not being able to find, then I came back and she was with an acquaintance I knew…he was all over her and I don’t know.” rubbing the paper cover over his cup, Sunghoon felt the weight shifting off his shoulders being able to finally talk to someone about what happened. But when Naeun didn’t respond; he couldn’t help but look up only to be met with bundled-up tissue paper thrown at him.

“You think she would really do that to you Sunghoon? She liked you, way too much for that to happen.” Hissing through her teeth Naeun couldn’t help but let out a frustrated sigh, not at Sunghoon— but to you as well. What type of misunderstanding led to two different views of what happened? 

Running his fingers through his hair Sunghoon couldn’t help but grimace at her response. “Naeun that guy she was with was someone who showed interest in her before, he was a teammate of mine and I don’t know—”

“Well that would explain why he told people you left with someone else. I found her leaning against someone else for support because that asshole got her drunk and then left to god knows where.” With his eyes doubling in size, he couldn’t exactly explain the feeling traveling through him as he chugged the last of his coffee in one go. Foolishness? He knew better than to think you would do that, a mix of internal and external variables engrained him with a different memory than what happened.

But was it wrong for him to feel slightly hopeful? 

Cursing was the only thing Sunghoon could do sitting with this new information as Naeun finally understood the grasp of how big the misunderstanding was. 

“Is she at home now?” His question caused her gaze to snap toward him with a nod. “Then I should go talk to her about this—this mistake.” Stopping him quickly, Sunghoon knew it was imprudent to confront you at the moment, with what happened a few days ago he could conclude you probably wanted nothing else to do with him.

“Well you see, I might or might not have encouraged her to move on and forget about you and everything that happened.” Sheepishly scratching her cheek, she rolled her eyes as Sunghoon reassured her it was nothing to be sorry for.

“And I may or may not have told her to take a chance with the cute Coach from the math department.”

“Oh.” 

Naeun couldn’t help the guilt taking over her expression as Sunghoon sat down slowly with a slight frown, realization hitting him that she meant Jeno. 

So you were considering Jeno all this time. 

“Trust me when I say it was just a suggestion, she seemed conflicted about it first just… try to talk to her when you can, I promise she’ll listen.”

Well, she lied.

Every chance he took to talk to you never seemed to work out for him, from seeing you in the staff lounge to the storage units and printing stations— you were ignoring him, and he knew that. 

Somehow you always finished lunch when it was his turn to have a break or you managed to print all your paperwork magically when he showed up to the storage units after calculating your routes in between classes. It was hopeless. 

“Coach!” 

“Yeah sorry, um you two not going to tutoring today?” Tapping his fingers on the clipboard, Sunghoon could only watch as Jungwon shook his head with a grin knowing he caught his coach dazing off— again. 

“Nope! Ms.Kim said we’re all good with eligibility.” 

“He’s only asking because he wants to walk us to class again… right Coach Park?” Grabbing Niki by his jersey, Sunghoon couldn’t help but pull him into a headlock as the younger boy laughed at the teasing. He wasn’t sure when kids suddenly became aware of feelings; especially his, but if you asked the boys they would’ve said it was obvious from the way his eyes followed you when you were around. Or the way his head turns immediately at the mention of your name by staff or students.

But if you asked Niki thinks its obvious from the way he always volunteers to walk them to tutoring, your tutoring.

“Sunghoon!” Letting go of Niki he turned to see Jeno greeting him coming in from the outside field with the soccer team. Being the main coaches on campus it was expected the both of them would see each other often— unfortunately for him, as the idea that you were somehow considering on pursuing something with Jeno did not sit well with him. Sending him a nod, he couldn’t help but roll his eyes as the boys greeted their ‘favorite’ math teacher. 

“It’s not that hard to do math you know, I could help the two of you if you need it.” He sighed nonchalantly, crossing his arms as the two scoffed at him chugging their water bottles. “No offense Coach Park but why would we ask you if we have a math teacher who’s willing to tutor us?” Shaking his head Niki walked away leaving Sunghoon gawking, the whistle falling from between his lips as Jungwon shifted on his toes awkwardly. 

“Coach it’s true, plus Mr.Lee is super nice don’t worry! I always see him with Ms.Kim in the morning before class starts— yeah hold up!” Grinning at his teammates he gave Sunghoon one last knowing grin before running off to the others. 

“What do they know about being super nice?” He mumbled, blowing the whistle while motioning towards his assistant coach to go through with another round of cardio. 

It was funny really.

“Do you know today’s date?” Glancing between you working on a few notes and the other teachers talking about their plans for the upcoming school festival, he was grateful for agreeing to participate. Despite being one of the only people in his department to take charge of the role, Sunghoon truly was here to find a chance to talk to you— even if it meant asking for today’s date.

Seeing you weren’t paying much attention to him, he made sure to clear his throat a little louder this time. 

“What’s today’s date?” 

“It’s the twentieth…” Dropping his pen on the table, his jaw clenched hearing Jeno answer instead, his tone slightly annoyed at Sunghoon asking you the same question repreatedly.

“I wasn’t asking you.” He mumbled quietly, causing the latter to roll his eyes as he stated the date for Sunghoon to acknowledge again. 

He didn’t care. 

“What’s today’s date?” Sunghoon asked again, this time directly asking you with a tint of hope in his voice.

“O-oh it’s the twentieth.” You told him with a small smile, going back to answering questions some of the other teachers had about preparation time and supplies. With a successful smug, Sunghoon glanced over at Jeno who shook his head out of bewilderment. 

He found this to be an improvement, hell this was the first thing you’ve said to him since the dinner from over a week ago. “Do you need help with this?” You heard him ask, before you could answer Sunghoon was already grabbing the boxes you were carrying back to the paperwork room. 

“Yeah, you can just leave them here.” You pointed out, an awkward grin on your lips knowing the last time you spoke to him wasn’t the friendliest. 

“Hey I’m sorry about last time, I shouldn’t have blown up on you the way I did so I apologize—”

“No you shouldn’t apologize I sort of antagonized you so I’m the one who should be saying sorry.” He interjected, bringing his hands up in an attempt to stop you from interrupting him with a small huff. 

“Sunghoon I just don’t want us to be fighting anymore, it’s been so long we should both just get over it— I’m ready to forget about it if you are.” thinking it was the best solution you huffed softly seeing Sunghoon slowly nod shoving his hands in his pockets with a slight frown. 

“Is this not what you wanted?” Seeing him slowly bring his gaze up to yours, you released a relieved sigh as he nodded quietly. 

“Yeah I really do Y/N.” With a small smile, you nodded as the sound of other teachers down the hall interrupted the two of you. 

“Great because I’m gonna need a lot of help for the upcoming festival.” You pointed out, standing beside him letting the other staff walk into the room past you with a grin. 

“And I’ll be there to help you, always.” You heard him mumble beside you, heart fluttering lightly as your fingers gripped the fabric of your pants. 

You weren’t sure if your olive branch was going to do much in effort when it came to Sunghoon but— the two of you were now on good terms, really good terms to say. 

Maybe it was the effort of meeting up before or after school to brainstorm ideas for the festival but apart of you felt somewhat displeased. It was stupid really, you were upset when he was too caught up in the past with what happened, but now you were slightly displeased at the fact he was willing to forget everything just like that. 

Complicated— you knew. 

The sudden knock against the wood door made you flinch lightly from your desk as the sight of Sunghoon made you grin. After a few hours of grading papers, you didn’t notice the setting sun and quiet halls. Sunghoon has been coming either before or after school to discuss plans and set up ideas for the festival, when you learned he out of everyone signed up to run his department, a part of you grew in excitement. 

Seeing him at your door right now made you realize that, whether the halls and classes were empty in the bright early mornings or late in the setting sun, part of you felt a bit of self-sorrow. 

It reminded you of the way you were back in college, waiting for each other after classes with exciting smiles and playful hands. If things stayed the way they were, would the two of you have made it this far? Even if the exciting smiles turned into tired ones, and warm hugs replaced the playful ones— you could only leave it up to your imagination.

“Hey.” You whispered, his coming figure making you drop your pen softly. Eyes widening you scoffed as Sunghoon placed a cup of warm coffee on your desk. “I figured you needed a quick coffee break seeing how you’re still working this late.” He sighed, sitting ontop of one of the desk in front of you. 

“You came earlier?” His hum was enough to let you know he did as you were busy in your own world to be bother any further. “Isn’t this the coffee combo I made you before?” Your voice slightly amused as he nodded with a chuckle. 

“Yeah it’s been my go-to since you made me one— I guess you just know exactly what I like.” 

“So I think the class came to a consensus on their final ideas for the festival.” Changing the subject quickly, you failed to realize Sunghoon caught the sight of your eyes wavering, flustered.

“Oh yeah? What did they choose, our class came down to one as well.” Blinking quickly you did your best to remain calm as Sunghoon made his way around your desk beside you, his cologne tickling your nose while trying to ignore the obvious sound of your chair squeaking from scooting back slightly. 

“I-I think they all agreed to do a snack booth.” You replied, focusing your gaze across the room to the lab tables, an attempt to prevent your cheeks from heating up in embarrassment. “The kids chose a photobooth, I think that’s a good combination for our section.” He commented earning a nod from you. 

The feeling of something fluttering against your hair made you to flinch until the calluses of Sunghoon’s fingers caressing a few strands of hair came into view. 

“Stop overworking yourself.” he whispered. 

“I’m not Sunghoon I’m just behind on a few assignments is all.” You reasoned, leaning back into your seat as his fingers continued to play through your loose strands of hair. Being alone for so long, you often forget what it’s like to have someone asking you from time to time to slow down.

But to Sunghoon it was just one of your habits he knew you couldn’t get rid of, meticulous and compassionate to what you put your mind to, that was what he loved about you. But he knew it was important to put a limit on that habit. He knew you didn’t like people critiquing your work style as it was what you were used to— a small detail he noted back when you grew frustrated at the professor for telling you to take a break.

“Okay I believe you.” He sighed in a whisper, fingers still brushing the side of your face before continuing. 

“Just remember to rest from time to time… sleep can’t wait but graded assignments can.” he reasoned making you giggle slightly at how unserious he was with a nod. 

“The kids wanted me to let you know they’re expecting to see you at the game this Friday— especially Niki.” he brought up, leaning an arm against the head of your chair as you looked up at him confused. You haven’t been to any of the school games on campus, to be fair any games really since back in college when you went to support Sunghoon. 

“I think it’ll be important for them that their favorite teacher is there so think about it.” you heard him say, he knew you had a soft spot for the boys and they had one for you.  

And so here you were, after days of debating whether you were going to show up or not, you found yourself standing in your classroom overlooking the line of supporters outside the entrance to the gym. 

The moment you step foot onto the court, you noticed the home side of the bleachers were lined with hand-painted posters and school-colored streamers hanging from the ceiling of the gym, visible around the poles of the bleachers and floor of the gym. The loud cheering from the student section and low percussion from the band brought a smile to your face, it felt familiar yet so unfamiliar.

“Ms. Kim?” Smiling at the flushed boy you waved at him as he called over for the taller one with a grin. 

“You made it! I didn’t think you were coming,” Niki exclaimed with a towel wrapped around his neck. 

“Of course I came! You know I have some basketball knowledge up my sleeve.” you winked as two of them laughed feeling you pat them on the shoulder in encouragement. You recognized many students from class and coworkers with anticipating expressions, being one of the biggest games this season the energy was high, high in excitement and pressure. 

Trailing your eyes across the gym, it was a surprise to see so many people from the enemy team seated on the opposite side, school colors contrasting against each other as the tension grew on the court. Before you knew it, a grin ghosted on your face as your wondering gaze paused on Sunghoon; dressed in his suit with his clipboard in hand and a pen in the other. His brows were pulled into a frown behind his styled locks looking across the court to the other coach with a scowl, typical competitive Sunghoon.

You didn’t know what but something made you nervous, maybe it was because haven’t been in this type of environment in so long? Or maybe you were feeling the the stress from all the players on the sideline.

The moment his eyes met yours, it was like seeing him for the first time again at his game. 

Nostalgia, you were nervous because you knew coming here would’ve made you reminisce on all the good times you had with him those years ago. 

You were shown nostalgia was the hearts way of reminding you of what you once loved, what you once cherished. It wasn’t like someone told you, you learned to acknowledge it over the years. 

Through your favorite song that oftened played on the radio station you two enjoyed, Goodnight Radio. Photos and scents… nostalgia seemed to have always traveled to you, leaving a bittersweet feeling as sometimes happy memories make you sad–- despite the intended meaning of those words.

You gave him a shy smile, Sunghoon’s grin widening as he nodded in acknowledgement ignoring the looks of Niki and Jungwon glancing between you two. Finding your seat amongst the students, you were happy most of them greeted you with enthusiasm, partly shocked to see you here in the first place. 

“I’m surprised to see you here. Not really since I knew you’d come.” Sunghoon called out to you from the benches, yelling over the loud crowd in excitement as the band performance was coming to an end. You knew how important this was for Sunghoon, coming from a background where he was once in their position— this was a big game for him. 

Sure, you knew it would reflect on him as this was his first game as the coach, but you knew how important it was to him to win, for the team and for himself. 

“And who would I be not coming to support my students?” You yelled back, his smirk widening as he flung his clipboard towards the assistant coach who flinched, you figured he’d be used to that by now. His cheeky grin complimented his smiling eyes and it made you realize this was were Sunghoon belonged, on the court where he always called home.

As the game continued, you knew it was going to be an even game— with the team leading alongside a new coach, it was expected for a few mistake calls here and there. But being against a long time rival defending their wining title, everyone was tense throughout the first half. With the crowd growing weary you could see the stress seeping through Sunghoons stern expression. 

You couldn’t help but dismay your feelings aside noting Sunghoon motioning Niki in with a frown, he’s been missing all his shots and making many out of play moves costing the team points and fouls. Flopping on the bench, the boy was told to calm down by Sunghoon who went back to strategizing with the team with a tight frown on his face. 

With his head hung low and chest heaving— you stood up making your way down to the benches, away from the rest of the team where Niki was sitting.

“Niki.” Whispering to him, you heart melted seeing his upset expression under the towel draped around his head. He reminded you a lot of your brother back then, passionate and driven by the game but also very emotional in the heat of the moment; that could lead to some bumps in the road— you knew better than anyone growing up with it. 

“Ms. Kim I keep messing it up for the team.” You heard him groan, his fingers tightly intertwined trying to blur out the loud crowd from all around. 

“It’s not just your fault Niki, like you said it’s a team… you win as a team you lose as a team—and you mess up as a team.” Nodding slowly you grinned seeing him losen the tight grip on his fingers.  

“You know Sunghoon only benched you because you were getting upset, not because you’re bad. The last thing he wants is for you to put the blame all on yourself….but he shouldn’t have made that three pointer call if you want to point fingers.” You chuckled, grateful to see his smile again despite the sweat lining his hair. You noted the way his eyes flickered back to the group of players— huddled together as Sunghoon was desperately trying to keep his team together. 

____________

“You guys we can still win the game we just need to calm down and rethink our strats.” Sunghoon couldn’t help but feel anxious at the sight of the scoreboard before them, they were ten points down and one of his best players is sitting out for the rest of the quarter for his own sake. He knew how they felt, the pressure to perform well and to win against one of the biggest rivals this year, he saw himself in many of the players on his team.

But instead of forcing them to go through the burden and anger he grew familiar with, he knew it was the right thing to do seeing how upset Niki was getting both on and off the court. 

“Coach we need Niki— he’s usually the one leading all the plays down the court, it’s gonna be hard to get past their defense.” Jungwon breathlessly stated. 

“ I know but I’m not gonna force him to play when he’s spiraling, we’re just gonna have to play around not having him in the formation.” From his peripheral, his eyes caught your figure rushing back into the crowd— sitting amongst the other students and supporters with a heartfelt expression.

“Coach Park!” 

Seeing Niki rush over, he was surprised to see a smile plastered across his flushed face. 

“I can play Coach, I’m good.” despite his reassurance Sunghoon was still skeptical noting he wasn’t this spirited a few minutes ago. “Niki I’m not sure if—”

“Coach I didn’t come to play today just to lose.” he made sure to emphasize, and it all clicked for him— a familiar phrase that rang in his ear like bells. 

‘I didn’t come just to see you lose.’ 

It was a joke you’ve always said to him before his games to shake the nerves off his shoulders, even through the wins and losses he knew you were there to support him regardless of the results, and a part of him missed that. It was just something that ticked his heart a bit from the memories.

Bringing his gaze to yours, despite the rather obvious intent to look away— you knew Sunghoon understood your intent; he needed to give Niki the reassurance you gave him.

“Okay, I believe in you but you gotta believe in yourself kid—all of you do.” grinning at the team, Sunghoon felt relieved to see everyone jump in excitement despite the fatigue that overtook their faces not long before this. With less than a quarter left, he knew this was the last push both physically and mentally for the boys— with the whistle blowing the sound of the crowd grew both in excitement once again.

Niki was in a whole different state of mind compared to before the timeout, with both him and Jungwon finally on the same page; gaining points back was easy. However, with the other team being the best of the best, the score was still close— too close. With the clock ticking down and the difference being two points, either the team had to score a three-pointer or prevent the rival team from tieing.

“Niki go, run!” you suddenly exclaimed, ignoring the looks from those around as you could see the thoughts running through his mind faster than his feet were. With his fingers gripping the ball, you could feel your own gripping your pants. This was it. The adrenaline, the rush, the quick silence as everyone held their breath down to the last millisecond.

This was what you missed. 

A wide smile made its way to your face, seeing Niki and Jungwon jumping in both happiness and exhaustion as the students ran to the court to celebrate with them— you could only smile. 

They won, despite being the underdogs; they won fair and square. Nodding in satisfaction, you gave both of them a proud thumbs up as the both of them kept waving towards you in the crowd. If you were a little younger you would’ve found yourself down there with them.

But despite the happy occasion, it felt bittersweet. You were happy, so happy for the team but you didn’t want the neglected feelings you’ve tried so hard to push away overtake the joyousness you should be feeling. 

What should you be feeling? 

What were you feeling?

“Y/N!” Turning towards a familiar voice, your heart shunk realizing why the dread you’ve been feeling for the past couple weeks have been eating you up inside. 

“We did it! They did it.” Sunghoon grinned down towards you in joy. 

You noticed it that one evening— you could still see the Sunghoon you met in college, filled with drive and passion both in basketball and life. He wanted to do a lot of things, visit a lot of places, and accomplish a lot of things. You’ve never admitted it but, it tore you up inside wondering if he ever wanted you to be a part of that.

Has he been well since then?

Did he still think of you the way you thought of him?

Were over-easy eggs with a pinch of salt and garlic still his favorite?

What you and he had, is it gone— forever? You never admitted it, but he always lingered in the back of your mind without effort.

“What’s wrong?” You heard him ask you, shaking your head you held back a small cry trying to pass it off as being emotional for the boys. Your response was hushed out by the loud crowd while your eyes trailed to focus on something else other than Sunghoon who recongized that small glint in your gaze.

“Well I think we can thank you for talking some sense into Niki.” he blurted out, making you shake your head in defiance still admiring the confetti falling from above with a small smile. Sunghoon couldn’t help but admire the way your glossy eyes shimmered from the silver confetti falling above, they looked like the stars he used name in his head while stargazing with you on the campus lawn. 

“I owe you one— after this actually if that’s okay.” 

What you didn’t expect was Sunghoon secretly picking you up after the game behind the school. With kids celebrating in the main parking lot and on the field, the last thing you wanted was for a rumor to start about the science teacher and coach leaving with each other after the game. 

“Sorry did you wait long?” he whispered unlocking the door for you, shaking your head with a chuckle you slid in leaving your things in the backseat swiftly. 

“Are you picking a place to eat this time?” you grinned softly, his laugh echoing lightly throughout the car as he quickly pulled out of the parking lot passing by familiar faces you’ve seen in the halls. 

“Well it wouldn’t be much of a treat if you did all the work— did anyone see you?” He asked, eyeing you from his peripheral with a finger tapping the wheel. 

“No only a few teachers left through the back but other than that just Jeno.” you hummed. 

“Jeno?” he whispered, grip tightening on the wheel slightly making you bite back a grin unconsciously. “Mhm, he even asked if I needed any help going to where I needed to go.” you sighed nonchalantly, his occasional glances turning into full head turns— waiting for you to continue. 

“Did you tell him you were taking the bus?” His perplexed tone makes you giggle slightly as you continue to admire the colorful lights blending outside of the window. Sunghoon could feel himself breaking out in a cold sweat waiting for your response, with your head turned the other way he wasn’t sure what to think.

“Nope I told him I was going with you,” A smile broke across his face after realization hit him that you had no problem telling Jeno who you were with, and it was with him— silly he figured but it made his ego swell and cheeks heat. 

“Hey eyes on the road sir.” You playfully reminded him, pushing a finger into his dimple softly causing him to clear his throat in embarrassment —coughing nonchalantly to hide his giddiness.

After pulling into the destination, Sunghoon held a hand out to grab as you confusingly looked at him and then the empty parking lot you were standing in. 

“I was planning on taking you to a nice restaurant worth half of my paycheck but I figured you would’ve liked this a lot better.” he grinned cheekily, closing the trunk with a bag of take-out in one hand and alcohol in the other. Leading you up the stairs, your eyes widened slightly taking in the bright city skyline and busy traffic. 

“It’s not the prettiest but I think it’s still pretty.” He sighed, straightening a small towel he took from the locker room on one of the cemented platforms for you to sit on. 

“No Sunghoon it’s beautiful.” You whispered in a hush, leaning against the cemented edge with your elbows admiring the breeze from this high up, “Seriously.” you weren’t sure why but the view brought a content smile to your lips, after working nonstop for quite a while— you sometimes forget you step back and enjoy the moment. You learned to find the small and ordinary things beautiful, the lining car lights twinkling in the distance to the cicadas singing in the breeze.

Things will continue on in the world whether you comply to that idea or not, and it’s okay.

After perfecting his set up Sunghoon was glad you weren’t too picky about the setting, but you never were. Seeing you stare out to the view in fascination was a reason why he loved experiencing new things with you, not only was he getting to experience something new— but he was able to see you do as well. He loved it. 

“Yeah— it really is beautiful.” He repeated, your head turning at his agreeance only to see his gaze on you. The tip of his nose slightly red from the cold while his eyes were filled with solace as he looked down at you. 

Your heart was doing that thing again…. 

“Um, so did you decide on takeout? How’d you find the place?” You managed to let out, walking towards the small setup Sunghoon laid out as he rushed over to make sure the towel was still flat for you to sit on. “Y-yeah the boys said it was pretty good so I thought maybe we should try it.” He explained, motioning towards the pack of beer that you excitedly opened up. 

“The boys did?” kids were trendy these days and that could mean one of two things— it was gonna be really good, or just really hyped up. Surprisingly it was pretty good, Sunghoon could be a picky eater from what you remember but he was fully enjoying himself—that could also be from the alcohol. 

By now you were a few shots in, a couple of beer cans opened and a whole box of fried chicken finished. With the cold breeze brushing against your hot cheeks you couldn’t help but glance at Sunghoon from time to time secretly. His styled hair was now messed up slightly from the wind and his cheeks were slightly flushed from the alcohol. 

“Sunghoon.” You softly called out, eyes slightly hazed from the can of beer you chugged down wondering if this was a good idea to talk unsober. His low hum sent shivers down your spine as you stared off in the distance towards the twinkling city lights. 

Sunghoon was buzzed, he knew he needed to sober up soon to take you home but the thought of you next to him somehow made him anxious— leading to one too many shots. 

Maybe it was the way you were picking at the empty can between your fingers, or the blank stare off in the distance; he couldn’t tell what you were thinking and it made him wonder. Your somehow sad expression when he found you after the game made him realize one thing, with this time apart he didn’t know how you’ve been at all. 

Were you and your mom still on bad terms? You’ve confided to him one night after he found you crying to yourself when you thought he was asleep, despite how well and proud you presented yourself at school; you never felt good enough which broke his heart. You were sensitive, he knew that— a person who’d rather show off only your happy and good sides despite how polar opposite you might’ve felt.

“Do you regret it?” your small voice broke his thoughts, Sunghoon wasn’t sure if he heard right, the feeling of his heart suddenly dropping along with your solemn expression showed him you were speaking as yourself right now, not as the respective Ms.Kim, not YN from college but you right now in the moment. 

“Regret what?”

With a shaky sigh, you shook your head trying to mask the slight tremor in your voice. 

“I-I don’t know, everything?” You managed to let out, despite everything that happened, you had more good memories to grieve over than the bad—hardly any. Sunghoon was quiet for a while, and it made the thoughts in your mind run for miles wondering why. 

Maybe he did regret it. 

With your mouth gaping slightly the words ‘forget it-–it’s a stupid question’ were at the tip of your tongue. But a part of you knew it wasn’t stupid, it was just closure. 

“You know sometimes I think about it.” He sighed, his voice low from the unexpected question. 

“Just because we didn’t work out doesn’t mean you weren’t one of the best things that happened to me Y/N.” you unknowingly let out a shaky sigh, of relief? Content? You were happy to confirm what Sunghoon felt wasn’t a silly fling you tried to convince yourself he saw you as.

Acceptance? With the words ‘we didn’t work out’ solidifying your long-time question of what happened, you were somehow at the same time struggling to accept that this was how things happened. 

We just didn’t work out, despite for how bad you wanted things to— they didn’t.

“Me too—” it was the alcohol. Had to be the alcohol from the way your eyes found his, looking at you with a besotted gaze as warm as the feeling pitting inside. 

“You were mine too.” 

Unable to process what happened next, all you could feel was Sunghoon’s nose brushing against yours while your eyes fluttered on their own. 

His fingertips brushing through your hair and against your jaw had you gasping slightly— had to be the alcohol. The feeling of warmth radiating off his lips had your heart ticking to death, lips so soft you could remember your first shared kiss with Sunghoon under your covers that one night.

His blazer that was on your lap was slipping as the feeling of his chest brushing against yours made you melt inside— it most definitely the alcohol. 

“I regret it.” Your eyes immediately widened, freezing in place not understanding the meaning behind the sudden change in his answer. 

“Fuck I regret it so much Y/N.” he pulled away, running a hand through his locks as your hand slowly falls down on your lap, heart beating loudly from the mix of liquor and your emotions. 

“But you just said you didn’t…” you couldn’t help but notice your voice coming out softly from shock and fear— fear of your worst nightmare coming true. You didn’t realize but a small drop of sadness touched the palm of your hand, a tear. Sunghoon immediately cupped your cheeks whipping them away despite you telling him to let go. 

“No Y/N I meant I regret not reaching out to you after that night at the stupid party— I fucked up.” Your brows furrowed slightly not understanding his confession. 

“I accidentally ran into Naeun a while ago and she told me, everything.” he emphasized, bringing the blazer that was no longer near you back to your lap in a hurry. 

“I was stupid, I was lost, and I ruined everything.” he softly told you, his eyes downcasted towards your hands with remnants of tears that you collected in the past minutes. 

“Did you know her?” his questioning gaze led you to clarify the question further. 

“Did you know the girl you left with that night?” You whispered, playing with your fingers while the wind blew through your hair across your tear-stained skin.  

“What? No Y/N there was no girl… there was never another girl—ever.” He emphasized, turning to you quickly brushing your cheek with his thumb. “I just went outside to see if my friend left and went around the block a few times before talking to Jay…” he explained, hoping you remembered his college friends from that night that could vouch for him. 

Glancing towards Sunghoon your brows furrowed slightly trying to connect the dots, with his soft gaze taking in your reaction you immediately turned to face him as well. 

“And when I came back you were together with Kyungmin—” he cursed slightly his eyes looking into the distance with his brows pulled together. The name was unfamiliar, but you exactly who he was talking about.

“Sunghoon no— I” you denied, shaking your head expressing that you certainly weren’t together with Kyungmin. 

“I know.” he muffled, taking your hand in his before pulling to sit close, the heat from his arm radiating off onto you slightly making it painfully obvious about how close he was to you. Chewing the inside of your cheek, the urge to tell him that you missed him fell at the tip of your tongue—much to your surprise he beat you to it. Bringing your enclasped hands together, a small peck was placed in the center of your dorsal palm, your skin burning with butterflies as a small smile made it’s way to your lips. 

“I missed you so much.” He whispered, his eyes meeting yours filled with solace and sorrow— the moonlight perfectly highlighting the tip of his nose and the darkness of his pupils. 

“I missed you too Hoon.” your small voice making him sigh into your palm almost in content. 

“Missed you too much.” You added seeing his gaze travel across your face made your throat tighten— breathing hitched as the pink of his cheeks and the deep color of his lips became more visible with each passing second.

No matter what happened you realized after meeting Sunghoon again after all these years— you will always find your way back to eachother, back to the person who was meant to have your heart. That’s just how things worked for the both of you.

Two souls such as yourself don’t find eachother by accident or coincidence. 

You could say goodbye to everyone else but not Sunghoon, never Sunghoon. Not when his brown eyes were gazing like you owned his world. His lips pecking your cheek softly as you felt your heart burst in love and jolity.                           

And that feeling of love and jolity continued with each moment of intimacy shared between you two after that night. The secret kisses under the blanket at your condo as he stays the night after only wanting to drop you off after work— to the secret kisses inbetween classes behind the printer in the faculty room and underneath your lab tables.

His slender pinky that would hook onto yours underneath the table during faculty meeting were your favorite, it was quit obvious by the smile ghosting on your lips absentmindedly while Sunghoon swung your intertwined pinkies across his lap. With the festival coming up soon, alot of these sweet moments were limited as the both of you not only had the ending semester work to complete but also responsibilities with the school festival.

But Sunghoon never failed to call you after work, whether you were preparing dinner or getting ready for bed; the chime of your ringtone always brought a smile to your tired expression. 

“Ms.Kim where do you want us to place these chairs?” Twirling the pen between your fingers you motioned for your students to carry the stack of chairs towards the otherside of the court yard. With the festival happening later tonight there were still plenty of tasked to be done and last minute details to perfect before you could call it a day. When hours became one, you were basically running around campus like a crazed chicken to find the missing signs that were needed to complete your photobooth stand.

“Shoot where the hell did I place the signs.” you mumbled, swiftly going to your class that was filled with supplies and crafts done by the students. It was a festive time for the students, exams were over and the holidays were coming up; with the new year came new things to look forward to and the festival was the cherry on top.

“Ow!” You cursed, holding onto your knee that accidentally bumped one of the desk as you rushed to the missing signs that you were looking for. 

“Y/N?” Your eyes instantly darted towards the door seeing an equally disheveled Sunghoon with a box of snacks by his foot, you figured he came up to the class to get supplies as well. 

“Hoon!” you exclaimed softly, getting up from your position noting that despite looking disheveled— Sunghoon was still so handsome. 

“That’s gonna leave a bruise.” he snickered, eyeing the size of your christmas sweater the two of you decided to secretly match with. The memory alone made him smile, the one you initially wanted was out of stock and the next option was two times the size of what you would usually buy. But you looked adorable; slightly flushed from running around, hair was pushed behind the backs of your ears by the headband you were wearing.

“My little reindeer is so cute.” he cheesed, poking your antlers as you looked up to him with a sparkling glimmer in your eyes. Feeling him pull you into his embrace, your arms immediately circled around his wasit, face buried into the wool of his santa sweater as you felt him kiss the top of your crown, whispering a small I missed you inbetween kisses that eventually landed around your face. 

“Everyone did a pretty good job setting up for the festival.” You hummed, looking outside of the window at the twinkling colored lights from down below and the line of people waiting for the festival to begin. 

“Well if it wasn’t for you always on our asses–”

“Sunghoon!” You exclaimed softly, pushing him away as he apologized with a chuckle—reaching to pull you back into his embrace. With your arms leaning against the window, you couldn’t help but smile in silence, silence that was no more filled with pain or acted like a void, it was silence of appreciation. 

“This is kind of familiar don’t you think?” you heard him say beside you, his elbow slightly touching yours against the window as the two of you looked off into the courtyard, a small giggle leaving your lips as he made fun of Jeno for tripping over a few boxes from behind.

Looking up you realized what he meant from his comment as your smile softened at the warm twinkling bulb lights you decorated along the upper rim of your windows.

“Yeah instead this time Jake won’t interrupt us right?” You teased feeling him wrap an arm around your frame trapping you against the window. Leaning down he hummed a thought, his warm breath tickling the apples of your cheeks— the flashes of his friend interrupting his first kiss with you making him chuckle from the thought alone.

“I don’t know wanna try?” Slapping his chest lightly, you couldn’t help but look away shyly, bitting the bottom of your lip at how flustered he was able to make you. Using his free hand, Sunghoon brought your face to look at his again, his fingers tracing the lines of your features while his eyes took in every inch of your face. The two of you gazed at each other again in silence, not saying anything; but it was the kind of nothing that meant and told you all you needed to know once again. 

Sunghoon had a place in your heart you knew was always going to be there. 

“Ms.Kim WOAH–”

Niki.

Pushing Sunghoon away with all your might, you couldn’t help but apologize softly at his taken aback expression as his stumbled back against the lab tables. Clearing his throat as Jungwon and Niki both came rushing in with other students who seemed to have caught the two of you by the window. 

“Y-you were looking for these right? I found them lets go!” grabbing the posters you couldn’t help but curse as the students began talking over you, understanding the situation a little more as Sunghoon smuggly grinned not denying any of the accusations, rubbing the nape of his neck as he took in your flustered expression. 

“Okay okay, I hope everyone here can keep a secret right?” he announced gaining everyone’s attention. Small sounds of disbelief and annoyance echoed throughout the quiet classroom, some of them scoffing at the idea of keep this big of a secret while others were still in shock about their two favorite teachers caught almost kissing.

“If you do I’ll sneak everyone here a breakfast sandwhich for the first day of school after winter break.” he sighed in defeat, grinning in relief as everyone collectively cheered and agreed as one. You quickly told everyone to go down towards the courtyard, as the lines of people began to fill going towards different booths and activities.

“And make sure no one finds out! Actually you can tell Coach Lee I don’t really care.” Sunghoon stated, earning a few chuckles from the students and a glare from you. Shoving the posters towards Jungwon, his dimple came into view as his fond eyes traveled between the you and Sunghoon; a small ‘your secret is safe with me’ making you grin halfheartedly. 

While the room grew quiet, you couldn’t help but snicker slightly as Niki came running back, passing Sunghoon a poster you assumed was a draft or one that was messed up before it was finished. The two of you stood there looking at each other knowing you were caught red handed by your students, gosh this was bad if the board found out. You couldn’t help but notice his grin brightening as you began to freak out at the fact you and Sunghoon almost made out in front of your own kids. 

You were getting fired. Demoted at best, but most definitely fired. This would ruin all the plains you had lining up for your career— THIS was gonna ruin your reputation and—

“Y/N.” pausing mid rant you looked at him and couldn’t help the warmth that spread throughout your chest as your shoulders relaxed almost immediately. 

Of course Niki gave him that one specifically. The cutout poster that had a mistletoe drawn just above his head, small hearts and snowflakes lining the borders with the words ‘I like you, from my head to my mistletoe’ written on the bottom. Your laugh echoing through the class as Sunghoon quickly embraced you placing kisses around your face. 

In moments like this is when you realized you were grateful for Sunghoon in more ways than one. When you picture yourself being happy, there are many things that come to mind. Traveling the world to places that have always been on your bucketlist, learning how to cook michelin star dishes that you’ve had at restaurants, you wanted to raise a puppy on your own and even thought about going back to school to get your doctoral degree in science. 

Those were all things you want to do, things you wanted to do with Sunghoon. You weren’t going to make him your sole reason of happiness that’s a little silly, but you smiled more when you were with him, and you realized he understood you more than anyone else has. He made your ordinary moments feel magical and was the kind of person who pushes you to be better, he was your best friend.

In between kisses and embraces Sunghoon never failed to let you know he loved you both in tone and in silence, and he never failed to show you a different side of living that was of course filled with love.

Because that was just who Sunghoon was, someone filled — With Love.

Bye he’s so hot I will kms

⟡ ━━ 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗦𝗜𝗖𝗞 ˎ yjw ˊ˗

概括. MiLA is weak for JUNGWON, and he won’t let her forget it. 警告. mildly suggestive, not proofread, jealous mila, jungwon being a little shit (affectionate) 笔记. inspired by @v4mpsunghoon

MILA WAS NOT THE STRONGEST WOMAN. She was faint of heart and weak in the knees. And if there was anything that could best describe her malady, it was not in any common diagnosis from a medical professional, but in the lyrics of a song by one of her seniors: “No doctor could help when I’m lovesick.”

Mila was more prone to swooning than a Victorian lady after a gentlemen picked up her handkerchief from the floor. And that was exactly what Mila felt when she laid eyes on Jungwon, as he stepped out from the changing room, clothed in the outfit she chose for him: sleek pants, paired with a white button up shirt — whose sleeves were rolled up to reveal his veiny forearms and Bulvari watch — and a tie hung loosely around his neck.

Mila lips parted, a silent gasp escaping without her permission. When she had asked Jungwon to accompany her to go shopping, she would admit she had ulterior motives. Using the excuse of buying herself more clothes, she entered every designer boutique she could find. But each and every time she perused their items, she would gradually begin to drift towards the menswear, meticulously picking out items for Jungwon to try on.

And, boy, did Mila love herself for it.

“How is it?” Jungwon asked, leering at Mila from under his long lashes.

Fiddling with the waistband of his pants. He made a movement to tuck in his shirt at the back, and Mila’s eyes were immediately drawn to the way the fabric of his shirt stretched against his broad shoulders and defined back muscles, which she caught sight of through the mirror behind him.

“E-eo…” Mila said with a struggle. She nodded furiously and smiled brightly. “You look so handsome, really…”

If she thought she could hide how starstruck she was by the sight of her own boyfriend, then she was dead wrong. Jungwon was nothing if not observant, and her noticed every little change in her body language — her fidgety leg, her avoidant eyes, her flushed cheeks and awkwardly straight postures. All things that gave away the flustered mess she was inside. He smirked slightly, his eyes never once leaving her as she sat stiffly on the lounge.

It was too bad she had turned to the sales clerk to her side in order to avoid looking at him. But then, he had always been good at catching her attention again.

“Is it okay if I wear my tie like this?” Jungwon asked one of the sales clerks, who looked as if a Greek god was standing before her.

Surely enough, through the corner of his eyes, Jungwon spotted Mila abruptly stopping her conversation with the sales clerk standing beside her. He couldn’t resist the urge to smirk as he tilted his head slightly to allow her a bette review of his expression, and looking at the sale’s clerk in front of him through half-lidded eyes. Mila frowned and Jungwon knew she wouldn’t be looking away anytime soon.

“Well, yes, you can!” The clerk replied eagerly — perhaps, a little too eagerly, in fact, if Mila’s twisting expression was anything to go by. “But you can also try and loosen it a bit more. May I?”

The sales clerk lifted her hands up to Jungwon’s tie. She was polite enough to ask permission as she was the employee and Jungwon was a customer, but ultimately, that was where the line was crossed. Because before her fingers could graze the fabric, Mila’s slender fingers had swiftly appeared in Jungwon’s vision, and snatched it in her hands.

“It’s okay,” Mila said with a sweet smile — her ‘idol’ smile. “I can do it.”

The clerk blinked in surprise, but bowed her head nonetheless, and moved out of the way, so that Mila was standing in front of Jungwon. He bit back a smile at her obvious display of jealousy, pleased that his plan to rile her up had worked as planned. And while the soft flush on Mila’s face when she first laid eyes on Jungwon was now gone, the fierceness in her eyes as she glared up at him gave him a different kind of satisfaction

Mila’s eyes flickered down at the tie in her hands as she tugged it, a scoff bucking in the back of her throat. Even in her annoyed state, she couldn’t help but feel flustered by the intimacy of the action — especially with the way Jungwon looked down at her, a smug smirk tugging at his lips. And it made her even more annoyed, because Jungwon was actually going to let the sales clerk do this.

She pursed her lips. When had her cute Wonie become so adept at teasing her? Or was he always that way, and simply hid it behind his sweet face and smile, which he knew she would give the world to see on his face?

It was dangerous, really, how much he got away with. Especially since Mila couldn’t even stay mad at him, with how good he looked.

“There.” Mila let go of the tie and glared up at Jungwon, whose eyes shone with delight. She huffed and turned away to face the sales clerk. “We’ll take what he’s wearing, and the other clothes he picked out before.”

The sales clerk bowed her head. “We’ll prepare your items while he gets changed.”

As soon as the sales clerks disappeared from sight, Jungwon pulled Mila into the changing room with him, taking advantage of the fact that everyone was too busy preparing their items for purchase. Mila gasped in surprise when his fingers found her waist, before pulling her right to him so that their chests were flush against each other.

“Darling,” he whispered sweetly, to coax her out of her bitter mood, “you’re going to get frown lines if you keep glaring like that.”

Mila scoffed. Without another word, she grabbed the end of his tie and tugged on it roughly, pulling Jungwon’s face down to hers and pressing his lips against her own. Jungwon smiled into their kiss, instantly meeting the rhythm of Mila’s passionate. His thumbs ran circles into her waist, and slowly the began to drift towards, until the cool touch of his finger tips snuck up the sides of her crop top to lay against her warm skin.

Mila gasped into his mouth at the sudden coldness, but leaned in further to his touch. He hummed softly against her mouth, and with a sigh, their mouths parted ways.

Mila’s face was flushed as she glared playfully up at Jungwon. “You’re not off the hook, yet.”

Jungwon smiled. “But I will be after a couple more kisses, right?”

Mila couldn’t even argue with him there. She fell silent, and Jungwon smiled like the cat that caught the canary. She rolled her eyes before stepping away from him, turning the lock on the changing room door to see herself out before the sales clerks returned and realised they were in the stall together. “Let me know when you’re done.”

With that, Mila left the changing room, while a chuckling Jungwon watched her go.

Little did Jungwon know that she had sighed as soon as she was alone, holding a hand over her wild heart — which felt seconds away from bursting from her chest — and another on the wall to stop her jelly-like legs from buckling under her weight. The kiss they shared replayed in her mind, and she held a hand to her face to check the temperature.

It was piping hot.

Truly, Yang Jungwon would be the end of her.

---

What I look like at the function knowing I should be in bed reading a reader insert rn

broken confessions

masterlist | requesting rules

summary: in the haze of a drunken night out, you finally confess your feelings to max. but instead of the joyful moment you imagined, you’re met with a harsh dose of reality as max struggles to accept your drunken confession.

WARNINGS: angst, use of alcohol, hurt no comfort

w.c: 1.7k

a/n: first piece of sole angst posted on here yayy. however this was written for @inevesgf and is still solely dedicated to her !! you guys get to see too though, i hope you all enjoy. let me know your thoughts on this via reblog, comments or asks!

the bass thrums through the floor, vibrating up through your heels, but it’s nothing compared to the pounding in your chest. it wasn’t just the alcohol causing it— no, it was the fact that max was only a few metres away from you, happily dancing away with people he had just met that night.

it wasn’t his attention on others people that made your heart race; it was how deeply in love with him you were, though he remained completely oblivious.

inviting you out for drinks might not have been the best idea, because one thing was certain when you were drunk: you got honest— a little too honest.

that’s what got you to where you were now. you weren’t sure exactly what possessed you to do it— maybe it was the alcohol taking effect, maybe it was the way max’s laughter made your chest tighten, or maybe you just couldn’t keep it together any longer.

before you know it, you’re standing infront of max himself, grabbing onto his arm to get his attention. he turns, a little shocked, but his expression quickly softens, a smile overtaking his face. he greets you, his other hand ruffling your hair as he lets out a chuckle; he’s tipsy himself.

he asks you what’s the matter, and if you needed him for anything particular. you shake your head though, squeezing his arm tighter before leaning on the tips of your toes to reach his ear. then, “maxie, i’m in love with youuuu,” drunkenly tumbles from your lips.

max freezes, his smile faltering as he stares at you, eyes wide. all he can manage to murmur is a quiet “what?” which was barely audible over the pounding music.

you misinterpret his reaction, thinking he didn’t hear you. determined, you straighten up and repeat yourself, almost shouting it this time. “max, i’m in love with you!”

max’s eyes impossibly widen, panic flashing across his face. without a second thought, he moves his hand over your mouth, muffling your words. “shhh, not so loud!” he whisper-yells, urgently looking around to see if anyone heard.

you blink up at him confused, your words lost behind his palm. the look on his face wasn’t what you expected— there’s no joy, no relief, just shock and something which you could only recognise as fear.

after max finishes his frantic glancing around, he pulls his hand from your mouth. before you can utter another word, his hand is gripping your wrist tightly as he tries to guide you out of the place. you can barely hear anything from the loud thumping of your heart and the booming music, but you catch bits of max politely trying to excuse you both as he leads you towards the exit.

as max pulls you through the crowd, your mind races to catch up with what just happened. the warmth of his hand on your wrist is a stark contrast to the cold dread you feel settling within you. he pushes the club door open, leading you into the chilly night air. the sudden quietness compared to the almost deafening sound inside the club makes everything feel too real, too raw.

he finally released his grip on your wrist, turning around to face you, his face mixed with confusion and frustration. “what were you thinking??” he asks, voice sharp but low, as if to keep himself in check.

your chest tightens, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. your voice is small and trembling as you try to talk to him. “i couldn’t keep it in anymore—“

you weren’t able to finish though, as max is interrupting you again. at first it’s with a groan, as he lifts a hand to run through his hair and ruffle it, an anxious habit he developed long ago. “this isn’t something you say in the middle of a club, with hundreds of people around— and especially when you’re drunk!” he tells you, hands in the air as he tried to convey his frustrations.

the tears spill over, and you wipe at them angrily, embarrassed and hurt. “so when am i supposed to say it? you know i wouldn’t have the confidence when i’m sober.”

max’s eyes soften, but only momentarily before his expressions harden again. “i don’t know! but it was a mistake to do it now.” he harshly let out, taking you aback as your eyes widen.

“this was a mistake? i think loving you might’ve been a mistake too,” you tell him, tears overflowing now as your vision is too blurry to make out his expression. you rub harshly at your eyes, trying to stop the tears.

you can only hear max let out a frustrated sigh, as well as him fidgeting around. it’s silent for a moment, before you hear the ringing of a phone. you go to ask what he’s doing, but you aren’t able to as someone picks up on the other end too quickly.

turns out, max was calling you a cab home. the thought made you anxious, you didn’t want to go home with him, not when you were both like this. “i don’t want to go home with you, i’ll—“

“you’re not. i called a cab for you,” he interrupts again, shoving his phone back in his pocket. “you’re too drunk to be having this conversation. sober up, and we’ll talk,” he tells you, looking you right in the eyes.

it hurts him to see you so upset and broken about it all, but he can’t have this conversation with you when you’re intoxicated. he needs you to be sober, in the right mindset.

you want to protest, but at the same time you don’t. your mind is all over the place, some thoughts telling you to stay here and talk it out with him, while others tell you to just go home. you put your hands on your head, squeezing your eyes shut as you desperately try to gather your thoughts, but to no avail.

you feel yourself jump when a hand is placed on your shoulder, and you look up to see max looking at you, stoically. you flinch at the touch, not sure if it’s the cold, emotionless look in his eyes or if it’s the suddenness of the move. his hand lingers on your shoulder momentarily, and for a brief second, you think he’s going to talk to you, say something to make this situation better.

but he doesn’t.

instead, max’s grip tightens slightly before his hand slides off of your shoulder, and back to his side. “the cab will be here in a few minutes,” he tells you, voice devoid of the warmth it usually has, stepping back. there’s not much distance between you realistically, but to you— in your drunken state— it feels like there’s miles.

you stare at him, eyes desperately searching for any hint of emotion, any clue that might show he’s just as torn about this as you are. but his expression is unreadable, and it’s as if his emotions are locked away, behind the emotionless wall that was built as soon as you confessed your feelings.

“i don’t— i don’t want to leave things like this, max,” you hiccup, voice still trembling like earlier. “can we please just talk? i’m sorry, i was—“

“we’re not talking tonight,” he states, shaking his head. a weary sigh escapes his lips, before clarifying, “not tonight anyways, not like this,” and he waves his finger between you both.

you’re not sure when max got so.. serious, when he was drunk. granted, he wasn’t as drunk as you were, only a little tipsy; but it still scared you. the reality was starting to set in, and you felt yourself go still.

you thought tonight would have gone better, you thought max would be happy to hear you loved him. you even thought he’d reciprocate the feelings. but now, all you could think about was how cold he was being, and how it felt too much like rejection to think otherwise.

you watch as his mount opens, and your heart starts to beat faster as you anxiously wait for what he’s about to say. but, the words die on his tongue as the headlights of the cab shine through the darkness, breaking you both out of your own world.

at the side of your eye, you see max take another step back as the cab pulls up infront of you. you want to turn to him, ask him what he was going to say. but your mind betrays your wants, and you feel yourself walking towards the cab, hand resting on the door handle.

you’re frozen, as if you’re fighting your mind to let you stay and talk to max, begging it to allow you to fix the mess it created tonight. but alas, you end up simply opening the car door and sliding into the back seat, before slamming the car door shut.

you glance out the window, praying max will pull a move that would resemble something of a romance film. stopping you from going in the cab, regretting his decisions and pulling you back to him, allowing a quick and easy resolve—

but it never happened.

max just stood there, hands shoved in his pocket as his eyes drifted from yours to the drivers, giving him a nod to signal he was fine to leave.

the cab starts to pull away, and you can’t bring yourself to keep looking at max. the engine roars, and you look down at your trembling hands, a shaky sigh escaping your lips before you felt the tears from your eyes drop onto your soft skin. squeezing your eyes shut, you allow yourself to cry it out on the way home.

there’s no chat from the driver, no asking if you’re okay, but also no asking you to keep it down. it’s silent, and all that can be heard is the faint sound of the crackly radio, and your own sniffling.

for the first time since max had been brought into your life, you felt completely and utterly alone.

Me if i was the realest anon

i miss Sejun 😔😔

@silcry is this you?? no but in all seriousness same here 😞😞 fortunately he does have a few cameos in future chapters hehe 🤭🤭 he’s too much of an iconic oc not to have him feature in some more works you know 😉

Please stop, don't stop

Pairing; [Jake Sim x Fem!Reader]!Mob au

Summary; Y/N, despite living in luxury, had always felt like a prisoner with the way her brother treated her. Jay would drag her to countries, only to have her locked up in a hotel room with two bodyguards that weren't allowed to interact with her. She had no friends, her parents were estranged from her and the only person she had was Jay.

Jay, deciding to realise that his sister wasn't a child anymore, gives her a little freedom. It's a long-shot, for a mobster like him to let loose and not keep his guard down. Amidst trying to build a better relationship with his sister, he agrees to let his right-hand man walk into her life.

He expected them to be friends. Someone she could lean on when he wasn't there. Nothing more, nothing less. But God forbid the undeniable chemistry between Y/N and Jake.

A/N; so I hope the summary made sense. And before any of y'all come at me, this is an AU aka alternate universe. The Maknae line might as well be older hehe. All legal. Yes. And, I don't know how the word count got so out of hand. AND, i don't own any of these people except Y/N, and some other mentioned characters.

Words; 15.8k

Masterlist | Enhypen Masterlist

For the longest time, all Y/N knew was to hide under the shadows of her brother. Wherever he went, she had no choice but to follow. She'd been to exotic countries but stayed locked in hotel rooms while her brother tended to business. Never did she get the chance to enjoy travelling, never did she find herself smiling while she stared out of a balcony, and never did she feel sociable.

Granted, she had bodyguards with her, Sunoo and Jungwon, suffocatingly accompanying her wherever she went. They were at her feet, tracking everything from a lift of her finger to a dart of her eyes to report back to their boss by the end of the day. For all she knew, she thought they were insufferable.

They were all insufferable, blindly following her brother's orders in the hopes of getting a minuscule ounce of validation. She wondered how her brother managed to get them wrapped around his fingers, having them- all six of them- live for him and his needs and his desires.

Because at the end of the day, Jay Park was in charge, the strongest of them all, the one that could wipe off their existence with a snap of his fingers. Y/N never believed her brother could possibly hold that much power. Maybe power was just a figure of speech, maybe it was just fear that drove everyone to fall at his feet. Maybe it was because they had all signed their souls to him- a devil's contract.

Her brother, the same boy that fed her popcorn when they were kids, couldn't possibly be the cruel man he now showed himself to be.

Her brother, who once thought of her as the apple of his eye, only coldly glanced at her when he cried or complained. With a glass of whiskey in one hand, the other tracing his jawline, he'd tut at her. "Don't be pathetic," he'd sneer. "What would mum and dad say if they saw you like this?"

Y/N would ask herself the same question. If her mum and dad saw her locked away in random hotel rooms with two men watching her like hawks, they would be disappointed. If her mum and dad saw her cry to her brother about her loneliness, their hearts would ache.

Well, those were the answers concocted from fantasy.

In reality, her mum and dad would tell Jay to do whatever he could in his power to keep her safe. Her mum and dad would allow her to live the rest of her life miserably, as long as it meant she was still alive, breathing. Her mum and dad would applaud Jay for making the decisions he made.

She hated it, Y/N hated him with every fibre of her being- in the beginning, at least. It got exhausting, after a point. To hate her brother was to hate someone he was forced to become. To hate her brother was to hate the industry she saw herself taking over someday. To hate her brother was to mar the good memories she had with him.

Y/N accepted it just around the time she turned eighteen. She accepted spending half her life around expensive hotels and services. She accepted being an unknown sibling when she attended gatherings with her brother on one of those rare days. She accepted being helpless.

She was pathetic. Or maybe she wasn't, her life was. She had overheard Heeseung and Niki talk pithily of her to Jay. She had watched Sunghoon give her half-hearted glances as he walked past her. She would let Sunoo and Jungwon- who were ordered to not converse with her- ignore her mundane requests. She would endure the helpless shrugs Jake passed her-

Jake. How she envied him sometimes. How she envied the way treated him, his right-hand man, more like a sibling than he treated her. Y/N didn't know what it was about Jake that her brother admired so much. What was it that he could do that she couldn't? What was it that Jake had to offer that she couldn't?

He was so loyal to him, Y/N noticed. Jake Sim would do anything to protect Jay Park. To be fair, she did hear them argue quite a lot. She wasn't sure about what, but every time they argued, Jay would become a little angrier, a little more controlling and a little more on edge.

In the world she lived in, loyalty was the only thing keeping them alive. Keeping her alive. Y/N stayed loyal to Jay by not running away. The boys he strung alone stayed loyal to him by obeying him, not selling him out.

In the world she lived in, looking over her shoulder was her priority. Physically and metaphorically, of course. Everything had safety precautions, from the keychains on her purse to her beloved phone- the same phone that Jay controlled with through regulations.

He baned her from using social media. All she did with it was watch movies, listen to music or play games. Nevertheless, it was better than having nothing at all. It was better than enduring an eternity of boredom.

Because, Y/N was currently tucked away in boredom, locked in a room with her two trusted bodyguards. They were somewhere in Italy- her balcony gave her a splendid view of the city and with the moon shining in the corner of her sight, her room sparkled with silver.

While she shamelessly hummed a tune and looked out the balcony, Sunoo and Jungwon sat in the room on separate chairs. The pair stared at their phone, thumbs typing away yet somehow, half their attention was on Y/N.

Their one order was to take care of her, and she was sure they vowed to do a damn well job at it.

"Y/N," she heard Jungwon step into the balcony, his phone fisted into his hand as he waited for a response. She simply hummed at him, telling him to continue. "Your brother wants to speak with you."

A groan drawled from her throat, head tilting over her shoulder as she glanced at him. Jungwon, though he wasn't innocent, he certainly did look like it. With his beady eyes and puffy cheeks- Jay must have gone to hell and back to have him and Sunoo on his side. Both of them didn't look like they belonged. Perhaps that was their advantage.

"What does he want?" Her eyes tiredly narrowed as she spoke but ultimately received no answer.

She rolled her eyes, following Jungwon back into the room. She was being guided out by him and Sunoo, strolling behind her as she strutted out the door and down the hall until the door to her brother's hotel room came to view.

Swinging the door open, she was immediately met with the sight of two tramps- one entertaining her brother while the other danced in the middle of the room.

Niki sat on one couch, holding up a phone to record the tramps while Heeseung sat beside him. Jake and Sunghoon sat on another, smirks of amusement plastered on their faces as they watched. Y/N scoffed when Jungwon left her side to sit with Jay and Sunoo left to sit beside Niki.

"Dismiss your prostitutes before asking for your sister next time," she crossed her arms, heels clicking as she came closer to her brother.

With a tut and a snap of his fingers, the two girls disappeared into the bathroom. Niki groaned out a complaint, something about being bored, and tucked his phone away. He was the youngest, yet he was the strongest out of them all. Y/N had heard rumours about his talents in wielding knives.

Heeseung, who sat beside him, was the oldest and smartest. The one in charge of planning and executing- or so she heard. He had his arm wrapped around Niki's shoulders, a stoic scowl taking over his face as he looked at Y/N.

"I know you hate me but try being nice to me when my friends are around," Jay smirked, standing to meet his sister's gaze.

"It's exhausting to feel anything towards you, brother," as Y/N rolled her eyes, Niki involuntarily snickered.

Jay flashed the boy a glare and he quickly covered his mouth. "As I said," he looked back at his sister. "Play nice."

Y/N hid her disbelief by sucking in a breath, digging her nails into her arms. "Why'd you want to see me?"

"Mum called," he said so casually, it made her raise a brow.

"What am I to do with that piece of information?"

"Again with the attitude," he warned, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "She wants us to attend a gathering tomorrow," he informed.

"Tomorrow?" She asked.

"Yes, tomorrow," he echoed. "And not to worry, mum already has a dress sent for you," he offered her a teasing smile which earned him another roll of her eyes.

"Are you bringing all six of your playthings or is it just gonna be the two of us?" She waved her hand, pointing towards the rest of the boys, eyes still trained on her brother.

"Have some manners," Jay scowled. "They haven't done anything to you."

"Doesn't matter. They're all loyal to you, aren't they?" Y/N cocked her head. "I don't feel like giving you lot manners," she seethed.

"I'm not gonna repeat myself," Jay seethed back, snapping his fingers at her face.

Y/N flinched. She shamelessly flinched, eyes blinking and body leaning back. But then she shook away the shock on her face, standing straight and offering him the same stoic expression she gave her when she was angry.

"Just answer my question."

Jay rolled his eyes this time, hand retreating to his side. "It's only going to be me, you and Jake," he promised.

"Awe, am I not gonna have my lovely bodyguards there?" She pouted, clearly showing off her sarcasm.

"Jake is more than capable of taking care of you for one night," Jay smiled teasingly, looking over her shoulder to steal a glance from his right-hand man. "The rest of them have business to attend to."

"Of course," she smiled right back at him, narrowing her eyes. "Is that all?"

"Yes, that is all," Jay nodded. "I expect you to be ready by tomorrow evening."

"The dress better look pretty, then."

"Oh, don't worry. It is," Jay cooed. "Mum even got it in pink."

Her scoff went unnoticed by everyone when they fell into a stupor of laughter. Y/N was used to it, to be openly made fun of. Maybe she didn't care, either. Regardless, if something happened to Jay one day, it would be her they listened to. She knew how she could get her way.

"Sunoo and Jungwon can stay here for the night. Have some fun," Jay announced.

"Yay, I get to spend the night alone," she leaned her weight on one leg. "Generous of you," she crooned.

"I know," Jay crooned back, eyes trailing towards his right-hand man. "Be a gentleman, Jake, and bring my sister back to her room, will you?"

Jake stood up, rubbing his palms against his jeans and giving Jay an assuring nod. Y/N didn't bother to meet Jake's eyes or bid her brother a good night. She trailed towards the door, leaving as she felt Jake's hand hovering over her back.

The halls were empty, ground matted with blue carpets, walls plastered with ivory wallpaper, all the glory made visible by dimly lit golden lights. Yet her senses drowned in the sounds of their feet padding against the carpet, his hand guiding her by her back.

Jay must have trusted him the most. If it were anyone else, he probably would have chopped their fingers off for even dreaming of touching her- his sister. For someone that acted like she deserved no happiness, he sure was overprotective.

"Jay only wants to keep you safe."

Jake's voice rang loud and clear, his accent giving away his nerves. Y/N scoffed again, rolling her head to the side to get a better look at his perfectly styled hair and sculptured nose.

"I thought none of you were allowed to talk to me?"

Then came silence, just as she expected. And Jake had let her into her hotel room, locking the door as he left, leaving her in silence. Lonely silence and she liked that she was alone. For once she wouldn't have two bodyguards shielding her to sleep.

The next morning, she was happy to realise that Jay was wrong. The dress her mum sent was, in fact, black. The satin wrapped around her frame effortlessly and Y/N admired herself in the mirror, her hands brushing over her collarbones and neck that hung a thin chain. Her fingers adorned with rings, ones that Jay bought for her.

She was brave enough to wear stilettos, and her feet tapped against each other while she sat in the back of her car, staring out the window. Jake drove, Jay sat in the passenger's seat. The rearview mirror angled directly at Y/N, giving Jay a clean picture of his sister.

"When'd you get your nails done?"

Y/N admired her nails, shiny black liquor matching her dress. "I did them myself," she spoke with a smile.

Jay hummed, amused by the way his sister entertained herself. He didn't say anything else, just tapped his phone against his cheek and looked out the window. Jake found himself glancing at her through the rearview mirror.

Soon Y/N found herself standing in front of another hotel. The party hall, she presumed, where the gathering would be held. That would be the third time she was attending a party that year, to be able to witness human interaction.

Jay made sure to keep his hand wrapped around her forearm, subtly dragging her around as Jake followed them into a room lit by chandeliers and organised with circular tables- covered by white cloth, of course.

"Alright, listen," Jay held her at an arm's length, eyes sternly begging her to listen to his requests. "I need you to stay in one place. Where I can keep an easy eye on you," he blinked.

"Am I not allowed to have fun?" Y/N crooked a brow, a smile creeping up her cheeks. "Dance with the rest of the guests, maybe?"

"Jake will be with you at all times. I'm sure he can give you all the entertainment you need for the night," he clenched his jaw. Jake let out a hum, his hands clasped behind his back.

"Then why do you need to keep an eye on me?"

"Because I'm paranoid, Y/N," he said, rolling his eyes. "Just tell me where you'll be sitting. At least I'm letting you pick."

"Yeah, because that's being charitable," despite her annoyance, she looked around the room, eyes landing on the open bar with tall stools. She pointed in its direction. "There. You'll be able to see me from any corner and I'll at least be able to drink."

"Fine," he agreed. "Just don't get drunk. I expect to see you be able to walk by the end of the night."

Then he exchanged a promising nod with Jake, leaving the pair alone while he went away to act like a polite guest. Jake, after a moment of silence, offered Y/N his arm and she hesitantly looped in hers. He guided her to the bar and helped her sit on the stool.

She fixed her dress, one leg crossed on the other as she ordered champagne. "What would you like to have?" She turned to Jake, her earrings shining under the light.

"I can order for myself," he said, weaving his fingers together as he sat beside her.

"Too proud to let a girl speak for you, huh?" Y/N chuckled, wrapping her fingers around the drink that was being handed to her.

"Funny," Jake passed her an annoyed glance. He called for the bartender with a wave of two fingers, asking for a whiskey that was handed to him within seconds.

"Strong men only enjoy strong drinks, I guess," she mumbled, smirking as she brought the rim of her glass to her lips.

Jake scoffed. "You're full of opinions, aren't you?" He narrowed his eyes. "You don't know how to be nice to people?"

"What?" Y/N scoffed right back at him. "I've been stripped away of living my life and now I can't have emotions and opinions?"

Jake looked away, clenching his jaw and gripping his glass of whiskey. He wore his own set of rings, ones that strained against his skin and clanked against his glass.

"And please enlighten me as to why I have to be nice," she continued. "Have any of you been nice to me? Hence, do I owe any of you my kindness?"

"Fair enough," Jake let the words push past his teeth.

"That's what I thought," her lips frowned into a scowl as she sipped her champagne again. Upon looking at his defeated face, though, she recoiled. "But since my brother's forcing you to keep me company tonight, perhaps I should play nice."

Jake chuckled, involuntarily letting himself enjoy Y/N's humour. "Here I thought you didn't owe me your kindness," he cocked his head, hiding his smile with his glass of whiskey.

"Don't make me regret it," she tipped her glass towards him.

Jake hummed, nodding as he mustered up the courage to look at Y/N- his boss' sister, the same girl he wasn't allowed to cross paths with until the previous night. He smiled at her, pondering if striking up a conversation was a good idea.

If he was allowed to, he might as well let himself use his freedom to his advantage. Y/N was doing it, too, after all.

"Your life's always been this way, huh?" He asked, shamelessly showing his curiosity.

"What way?" She wondered, pushing her newly emptied glass away. Her fingers curled under his chin, propping her elbows on the counter.

"This," he pointed his finger at her, looking her up and down. "Controlled by your brother, denied of freedom," he listed.

Y/N pondered over his question while asking for a refill of champagne. She swirled her glass around, watching the bubbles fizz away. She cleared her throat, nostalgia filling her conscience.

"I used to be a wild girl while I was still in high school," she chuckled. "You know, typical high school parties, cheap beer and making mistakes?"

Jake nodded. "Then what drove Jay to treat you like this?" He cringed. "He pulled you out of school, didn't he?"

"You know, I thought he would have told you of all people the reason for his actions," she chuckled but continued explaining. "Yes, he pulled me out of school. He forced me to live in secrecy and whatnot," she shrugged.

"We're all just as clueless are you are," he shrugged back. "All we know is that you and your brother have an... Unconventional relationship."

"Unconventional doesn't even begin to explain it," she sipped her champagne. "He was forced into all of this, you know? The Mob, the violent mentality. With that came paranoia and the constant need to keep up his guard."

"You seem quite sympathetic towards him," he noticed.

"Maybe I am," she agreed. "But whatever he's been through doesn't excuse how he treats me," she insisted, pressing her finger to her chest.

"Right," Jake pursed his lips.

"His overprotective act just made me despise him a little. He ruined my life, after all," Y/N rolled her eyes.

"Of course," he let out a scoff, a slight grin taking over his features as he finished off his whiskey.

Y/N tilted her head, attempting to get a better glance at Jake. "What's so funny?" She asked, the same grin spreading on her lips.

The more she examined him, the more she realised how little she knew of him. Of any of them, for that matter. They lived under the same roof, travelled everywhere but the only information she gathered of them was by overhearing conversations. To be fair, her brother did ban them from interacting with her, regardless of how much he trusted them.

She came to realise that this was probably the closest she had to a conversation in a long time.

Jake, on the other hand, shook away the glee on his face when he looked over Y/N's shoulder, only to find Jay approaching them. He looked away, clenching his jaw and weaving his fingers together. Y/N's brows knitted together, confusion slapping her harder than a wave.

When Jay finally made himself known, her expression contorted into realisation. Brow raising, she watched him smile at her and Jake. "I see you've been enjoying yourselves so far," he said. "I hate to interrupt but I have a certain someone that was begging to meet you."

Beside him stood a woman that Y/N found much too familiar. Her auburn hair flowed past her shoulders, almond eyes shining with a smile as she looked at her.

"Pearl?" Y/N's eyes widened, excited as she started the woman up and down. She used to babysit her and her brother when she was still children, oblivious to the bad in the world.

Pearl was a reminder of her past, a sliver of naivety.

"Yeah, It's me," the woman fondly opened her arms and Y/N found herself leaping at the hug.

"My God, it's been years," Y/N gasped, holding her at an arm's length.

"I know, a lot has changed," Pearl enthused. "You look great, Y/N."

"You too," she agreed. "How have you been?"

"Good. Great," Pearl nodded. "I've got two kids, a great husband," she smiled at her, then craned her neck to smile at Jay.

Jake watched the scene unravel from behind with a refill of whiskey held between his fingers. He saw the way Jay licked his top teeth as Pearl smiled feverishly at him and that Y/N wasn't oblivious to the looks they shared. Unloyal she was, it was obvious.

Jay was quick to cut the reunion, standing between his sister and their once babysitter. "Nostalgia is a joy, isn't it?" He grinned. "Now, Pearl. I'll have a few words with my sister and then come find you. Go on now."

Pearl nodded, waving Y/N goodbye. "I'll be waiting," she said to Jay and breezed past them.

Y/N gaped at her brother, wide-eyed as she realised what she just witnessed. Jay raised a brow. "What?" He asked, holding his hands by his side.

"She's married," she reminded him. "She has two kids. And you want to sleep with her?"

"Since when did you have a say in my actions?" Jay jeered, completely careless towards her point. Y/N rolled her eyes, Jake scoffed and shook his head.

"Unbelievable," she cursed. "You're unbelievable."

"I know," her brother smirked, then strolled past her, leaving her alone with Jake again.

Y/N scoffed at him, returning to her stool while shaking her head out of disbelief. She didn't say anything, just thought to herself that this was probably the most eventful night she's had since her eighteenth birthday.

"He disappoints you, doesn't he?" Jake swirled around his whiskey, training his eyes on the way her mouth gaped.

"He has no self-respect, does he?" Y/N ran her fingers through her scalp, meddling with her hair as she hollered for more drinks- this time, wine.

"No, I guess not," he mumbled, too entranced by the anger that seemed to suit her so well. The way her brows furrowed and eyes narrowed, mouth parted and chest rising a little more than usual- Jake looked away.

For the rest of the night, he stripped her and himself of any interaction between them. The pair enjoyed their drinks, lost in their phones. A part of Jake hoped that she'd ask him for a dance or whine about how bored she was.

Maybe she was too proud to ask for anything else, maybe she was just angry towards her intolerable brother.

It was proven to be the latter when Jay came striding back, hair tousled and shirt wrinkled from his controversial expedition. "You're insufferable," she said to him

"Don't ruin my mood," he dismissed her, and it was back to being ignored by her brother.

She was taken back to the hotel, her diner waiting in her room along with Sunoo and Jungwon. She quietly changed her clothes, freshened up before eating and replayed the events of the night over and over again.

She thought about Pearl and Jay and Jake- Oh, especially Jake and the conversation she had with him. She found herself craving more conversations, desperate for an escape. But, wishing for leisure was like wishing for a unicorn.

She got over it by tomorrow, accepting her loneliness once again while she ate pancakes in bed while her brother and his friends were enjoying breakfast together. She swore she could hear laughter echoing from the banquet hall, overpowering the melodies she had playing on her phone.

A knock on her door, however, was not what she expected. She didn't have to get out of bed and open the door, though that was the whole point of knocking. It opened on its own and Jake's head peaked through the crack, his hand gripping the doorknob.

Y/N immediately sat straight, duvet pooling at her waist as she turned off her music and put away her pancakes. A breath left her lips as he entered her room, followed by her brother and Sunghoon.

"What a surprise," she mumbled, fisting the duvet as the three boys stood around her bed, one on each side.

"Good morning," her brother offered her a curt smile and she nodded at him.

"Am I in trouble?" She almost laughed. "Or do you need something?"

"I just need to talk to you," Jay rolled his eyes. "Andrei has been asking to see you for a while."

"And who's Andrei?"

Jay smiled viciously, realising that his sister was curious, giving him the attention he expected. "He's a work buddy of mine, it's not important."

"Seems like it is," she furrowed her brows. "He wants to see me, after all," she argued.

"Just listen, will you?" He scoffed. "I'm attending a meeting of his and he wants you there."

"Then why are these two here?"

"They will be taking care of you. I'd much rather have these two look after you while the rest of the boys attend the meeting with me."

Jake pursed his lips, nodding as he listened. Sunghoon passed Y/N a stoic glance from the corner of his eyes. She gulped, covering up her second guesses with a furrow of her brows.

"So, what? I'm just gonna sit outside while you have all the fun?" She chuckled half-heartedly, a hesitant smile gracing her face.

"I don't call this fun, Y/N" Jay seethed. "You've been popular around my colleagues and I'd rather not know the reason. The least you can do is not ask questions and follow simple orders."

"I am not one of your playthings to follow orders, Jay," she seethed back. "It's early in the morning, I don't need you snapping at me."

Jay, with a smile that screamed anything but good, crouched beside her bed, face inching towards hers. "I can say the same," he chuckled, two puffs of air escaping his lungs.

Y/N glared at him, jaw clenching as she let go of her duvet and crossed her arms. "You're insatiable," she growled.

"I know," Jay smirked. "Now get out of bed, get ready and change into something presentable," he stood to his feet, stomping towards her suitcases and flinging them open. Y/N followed him, jumping out of her bed and yelping.

"I'm obviously not going to show up in my pyjamas!" She yelled. "Now, stop going through my stuff and get out!"

She swore she heard Jake and Sunghoon stifle their laughter as Y/N pushed her brother towards her door. Their hands covered their mouths, unsubtly looking away.

"Out!" She continued yelling. "The lot of you!"

"I'm only messing with you," her brother grinned at her as he stepped out the door, ushering the two other boys with his hand.

"You show brotherly affection at the worse times," she clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, Jake and Sunghoon strolling past her and out the door.

Jay shook his head, crooning. "Be ready before I get annoyed."

Y/N slammed the door in his face.

Sighing, she brushed her hands down her face as silence consumed her once again. She strolled around her room, taking ten minutes to waste before ultimately disappearing into the bathroom.

It was rather dramatic of her to saunter out of her door in a little red dress, hands shifting her hair to one side of her shoulder. The carpet muffled the click of her heels and at the end of the hall stood Jake like a knight in tailored clothes.

His presence took her by surprise and her lips parted as she approached him. "Jay told me to get you," he said and she curtly nodded.

Jake walked her downstairs, an awkward silence following their path as Y/N looked ahead; he fought to steal glances of her. Then they entered the elevator, metal doors sliding behind them.

He cleared his throat, licking his lips. "Had a good breakfast?"

"Of course," she answered nonchalantly, eyes trained forward. It was a lie, obviously, but neither of them felt the need to acknowledge it.

She was piled into a car with him, Jay and Sunghoon. She didn't say a word, didn't seem like she wanted to either. Her earphones stuck to her ear, feet bobbing up and down to an unknown beat.

Jake, despite fighting his urges, had his eyes trained on her arms, legs, exposed neck and collarbones- any exposed skin he could get his gaze on, gaping from the corner of his eyes. He'd surely get in trouble if Jay caught his subtle glances.

An exhausted sigh left her lips when they reached her destination, her shoulders slumping as she stood in front of a rather tall building. "Come on, now," Jay had clasped his hand around her arm and dragged her inside- Jake and Sunghoon followed.

"I can walk on my own," she complained, a breathy whine escaping her throat as they entered a meeting room. Empty, it was- a long table surrounded by cushioned chairs for privileged backs to lean on.

"I know, I just don't want my baby sister to get lost in this mess," he taunted. "So, listen carefully and just follow the rules, yeah?"

"You make this sound like mission impossible," she groaned. "Why are you making this such a big deal? I'm just meeting one of your colleagues," she argued, tilting her head to the side.

"You're meeting a colleague that's killed people for fun," he glared. "As surprising as it may seem, I'd like to keep you alive."

"You've killed people too. What's the difference?" She almost chuckled, disbelief taking over her features.

Jay had the same reaction. "The difference is that I'm your brother," he reminded. "Now, can you just listen?"

"Fine. I'm listening."

"Good," he started. "When Andrei comes in, he's gonna want to see you. obviously. All you have to do is behave, smile like the little princess you are and minimally answer all his questions. Simple enough, right?" He shrugged his shoulders, a sarcastic smile appearing on his face.

"Right," Y/N rolled her eyes.

"Exactly," he enthused. "When he's done talking to you, Jake will take you away and you'll wait in the bar, right across from this room," he pointed his arm out the door, towards the area he was referring to. "Sunghoon will join you later."

"Great plan, brother," it was clearly a sardonic compliment. "Keeping me alive and all... You deserve an award."

"I'm not in the mood for jokes, Y/N," he sighed and she furrowed her brows, telling him that she wasn't joking either.

Her reaction went ignored when the door to the meeting room flung open, revealing a man taller than the three boys Y/N was surrounded by. She presumed it was Andrei and he did fit the mental image she created for him. Tall, as old as her dad and holding pride as he walked in.

All three boys curtly turned their heads towards him, bodies stiffening as they greeted him with their hands meeting in the middle. "It's good to see you boys," he smiled.

"It's good to see you too, boss," Jay exhaled, letting go of his hand. Y/N lightly gaped at her brother, confused by his choice of... Words.

Andrew crisply turned around, surprised when his gaze was met with the presence of Y/N. He bellowed out a chuckle, brows raising as his arms extending past him. "My, God!" He cheered. "I didn't actually think you'd bring her," he directed towards Jay.

"I thought it'd be nice if you took a trip down memory lane," Jay offered, shrugging.

"It's been years since I've seen you!" Then he wrapped his arms around her, bringing her into a hug.

Y/N was taken by surprise as her cheek pressed into the man's chest. She didn't know what he was talking about, she didn't know what either of them were talking about and Andrei sure as hell didn't seem like he was the murderous type. Towards her, at least. So the confusion stayed on her face when she was released from the embrace.

"Do you remember me, sweetheart?" Andrei asked.

Y/N shook her head, almost embarrassed. "I'm sorry," she chuckled.

"Oh, I don't blame you," he waved it off. "You were a baby the last time I saw you, clinging to your father's side," he smiled warmly, a stark contrast to the description she received of him.

"I'm sure she'll remember if our dad gives her a little push towards remembering," Jay smiled sarcastically again. Andrei agreed with a laugh.

"Regardless," Andrei started. "It's good to see you, Y/N."

"Goodie," Jay clasped his hands together, ushering at Jake with a nod. "I'd rather have my sister out of here before the rest arrive. Wouldn't want her to die of boredom," he took two steps towards his sister, a hand pressing on her back as Jake stood on her other side.

Andrei raised a questioning brow, turning to Sunghoon who answered with an inattentive shrug.

"I have so many questions," Y/N whispered to Jay.

"I'll answer them later," Jay added. "If I feel like it."

Then, Jake was guiding her away to the bar. It was like the previous night all over again as he helped her sit on one of the chairs, keeping the meeting room out of her sight. Y/N dryly laughed, scratching the corner of her brow with her pinky.

"He calls this entertainment," the span of her palms spread across her thighs.

"He's just being protective," Jake debated.

Y/N shook her head again, chuckling out of disbelief. She ordered a glass of wine- a whiskey for Jake with it. The thought of being granted recreation was completely thrown out the window as her eyes met with Jake's.

She scoffed. "You'd think that the right-hand man has to sit through every meeting," she commented.

"There's a lot more to my job than attending meetings and tending to your brother's requests," he chuckled. "Besides, my presence isn't required. We already know what the meeting's about."

"Wow," Y/N leaned her head on her shoulder. "There's a lot about my brother I'm unaware of," she stated. With that, it sounded like she affirmed it.

"I'm sure he'll give you your answers when he thinks your ready."

"I'm eighteen and he's been dragging me along for three years. I think I'm ready," she sipped her wine, eyes narrowed at the sight of Jake sighing. Her shoulders slumped again. "You know," she trailed. "Jay treats you more like a sibling than me."

Jake's eyes widened, almost coughed up his whiskey as he gawked at her. Her statement came out nonchalantly, almost like she'd been waiting to finally say it.

At his reaction, Y/N laughed, waving her hand in front of her as she put away her wine. "No, no," he coaxed. "Don't freak out, I'm just saying," she grinned.

He wiped the corner of his mouth with the side of his hand. "You don't just say things like that," he scoffed.

"Eh," she shrugged a shoulder. "Am I wrong?"

"You are," he insisted.

"You could be wrong, too," she reasoned. "But then again, he wouldn't be treating the lot of you like playthings if he actually cared," Y/N raised her brows, hiding her expression by drinking her wine.

"Playthings," he echoed. "You throw that phrase around a lot- what do you even mean by it?" He weaved his fingers together, perfectly styled hair falling over his left eye, curiosity taking over his duty.

"Well," Y/N pondered, swirling around her wine glass. "You let him boss you around, use you, made sure that your sole purpose was to serve him-"

"Alright, I'm gonna stop you right there," he silenced her with a wave of her hand and she couldn't help but realise how similar he was to her brother. She exhaled, giving up. "You sound really stupid."

"Is that so?" She hummed. "Please enlighten me," she squinted her eyes, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth.

"He doesn't use us or boss us around," he waved around his fingers, body language suddenly animated. "You think he's some sort of monster and I don't blame you for it but he cares, Y/N. He just shows it in a messed up way," he crossed one leg over the other, finishing his whiskey in one gulp.

"I feel very cared for," she rolled her eyes.

Y/N wasn't going to admit the pit she felt in her chest, a rock of disgust and jealousy churning her stomach, making her abandon her wine. It stung to know that he treated his friends better than he treated his own sister.

"Protect me, my ass," she mumbled, rolling her head and looking past Jake's shoulder.

Heeseung, Niki, Jungwon and Sunoo walked down the hall, leading a small crowd into the meeting room. Her fingers drummed against the counter, lips pursing as she pondered.

"Listen," she heard Jake sigh. "I know it stings but he cares for you. More than any of us. Hence the overprotective act he puts on," he coaxed.

"Act?" She huffed. "Was that supposed to make me feel better?"

"I mean, did it work?" He tried, clearly getting a laugh out of her.

"No."

"Fair," he pursed his lips. "Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?"

"We don't even know each other," she said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, pointing between themselves.

"So?" He asked. "We can get to know each other now?" He offered.

"Is that allowed?"

Jake smirked, tracing his tongue over his teeth. "I'll let you in on a secret," he whispered, leaning closer to her for dramatic effect. "Your brother trusts me more than anyone, which means he trusts me around you more than Jungwon or Sunoo."

Y/N raised a brow, smirking back. "Which means what?"

"He doesn't mind me interacting with you," he let out. "I've always been looking out for you. Longer than Sunoo and Jungwon."

She gaped at his confession, a shiver of shock running down her spine. "How am I only finding out about this now?" She inquired.

He shrugged. "I told you. There's a lot more to being the right-hand man than you think," he grinned. "Plus, he knows you're going crazy. That's why he needs me to tag along with him if he's bringing you," he explained.

"And here I thought my day was ruined," she enthused, finding it in her to finish her abandoned wine. "So Jungwon and Sunoo aren't my bodyguards anymore?"

"I guess you could say that," he said. "They're not gonna be locked in your room with you all day. They have other work to tend to for now is all I know. And I'll be looking after you when you need to be."

With the new information that was practically being fed to her, Y/N felt a rush of relief wash over her. "I can be alone in my room now," she gushed.

"Yeah," Jake chuckled, nodding.

She was still being babied, she knew. But the little splinter of freedom she was being given gave her a little hope. Maybe this was just the beginning of a better future, maybe Jay was realising how unfair he had always been. Regardless, she still felt happy and confident.

Hopefully, nothing would burst that bubble.

"And, by the way," he added. "You didn't hear any of this from me."

"Of course," she grinned and Jake found his hand moving towards hers, cupping it right on top of her knuckles. Y/N didn't oppose it, she let his contact be the big red bow to her good day.

Jake thought her skin was warm. He thought the sight of their hands touching was more than just a pretty picture. He thought he wanted to hold her hand for longer than he'd like. He spent more than a couple of years watching over her like a fairy godmother- or guardian angel, whatever it was they called them these days. This was probably the last thing he expected, but it happened.

He wished for the moment to last a little longer, but Y/N's face contorted into realisation, her gaze moving past his shoulder. She slipped her hand away from his, clearing her throat and dusting her dress as Sunghoon stood in front of them, the same stoic expression gracing his expression.

"The meeting's almost over. Jay should be out soon," he informed and Y/N nodded, pulling her lips to the side.

Before Sunghoon could make himself comfortable on one of the stools and enjoy himself a drink, Jay was striding towards them. With his hands balled into fists, his arms swung as he approached them.

Y/N found it in herself to smile at her brother, head innocently tilting as he looked at her with confusion. "What?" He asked. "What's so amusing? Why are you smiling?" He wondered, looking between her and Jake.

"Am I not allowed to smile?" She blinked innocently.

"You don't smile for no reason," he pointed out, then rolled his eyes. "Where's the angry remark I usually get?"

Jake and Sunghoon exchanged glances.

"Don't be a bore, Jay," Y/N chuckled. "I'm just excited to ask you those questions I was talking about earlier."

Jay sucked in a breath, face relaxing as realisation washed over him. He glanced at the ceiling, then at the ground, helplessly sighing. He only realised just how much his sister was going to pester him.

"Let's just go, shall we?" He pursed his lips.

Jay grabbed her forearm, smoothly dragging her out of her stool and past the hallway, all the way down to the ground floor. Y/N let him, yet curious questions tumbled out of her mouth, none stop. By the time they reached the car, Jay was annoyed.

He ushered Jake and Sunghoon to get in the car as he held Y/N by the arm, glaring at her until she shut up and gave him a reaction deemed serious enough. "What do you want from me?" He fumed.

Y/N took a deep breath, throwing away the questions she had on Andrei, or her parents or about the business he leads. Instead, she pursed her lips into a smile. "I just want you to be my brother," she freely admitted.

"I am your brother."

"But you don't act like one!" She argued. "I just want you to let me live my life and be happy when I find happiness. I want you to let me explore the places you drag me to, let me interact with people," she listed breathlessly, hope filling her voice.

"Y/N, you know how dangerous it is to just let you wander," he sighed. "I'm not willing to take that risk."

Her tongue poked her cheek as her brother looked away, eyes frantically blinking as a wind blew past them. "Okay, then Jake can follow me around while I go wandering," she offered. "You trust him, and he keeps me safe. I'll be a good girl and won't talk to strangers."

Jay immediately let out a chuckle. "What did you and Jake talk about while I was gone?"

Her brows furrowed, lips forced into a frown. "What? We didn't talk," she insisted. "it was more of a chat. And he didn't exactly tell me anything."

With that, Jay pondered, hands resting on his hips as he looked his sister up and down. He sighed defeatedly. "Fine," he said. "I'm not going to let you wander all by yourself. You can stay in your room alone and do whatever you want but when you're outside, you're either with me or him. Understood?"

Y/N couldn't help the smile that reached her eyes, stretching her cheeks and showing her teeth. She'd jump up and down if she could. "Understood," she said to him.

"Good," he nodded. "I trust him enough to know that he'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe. So, make friends with him or something, I don't know. I'm only letting you do this because I don't want you going crazy."

"I know," she nodded, lovingly looking at her brother who had his guard down. "Thank you, brother."

"Don't make me regret this," he warned and she was being piled into the car, sitting in the back seat with Jake.

As Sunghoon started driving, Jake managed to catch Y/N's attention. He curiously nodded at her, silently asking what she was smiling about. She only shrugged at him and looked away, hands resting on the exposed skin of her knee.

She was alone when she reached her, a silence she accompanied on her own. She starting squealing out of joy, skipping towards the bathroom with a smile that refused to leave her face. Music blasted through her phone and she shamelessly sang along.

Dinner was sent to her room later in the night and she happily located herself on the bed, duvet pooling at her waist as the TV played a random movie she'd never watched or understood. Nevertheless, she watched intently, wide eyes scanning across the subtitles as she stuffed her mouth with carbonara pasta.

She didn't cross paths with her brother since their merry little conversation. And neither did she expect to see him or any of his friends. But her door creaked open, and a familiar set of fingers adorned with a familiar set of rings held the door frame and Y/N was wiping her mouth and placing her plate on a table.

Deja vu washed over her.

"Jake?" She raised a brow as he entered the room without an invitation, slowly and softly clicking the door closed behind him.

Jake gazed at her with doe-eyes, filled with some amount of hope and desperation. His lips crooned into a sheepish smile as his fingers laced together in front of him. "When I said I wanted us to get to know each other, I meant it."

Y/N smiled involuntarily, blinking twice as Jake took two steps towards her bed. She had to admit, the conversation she had with him was forgotten about, overshadowed by the satisfaction of her new predicament.

For starters, she didn't know if Jake alone was allowed in there. She didn't know how her brother would react if he found out he was in her room. Bending and breaking the rules so early into freedom wasn't the best idea.

But what the hell did she know? She let him walk right up to her.

"I don't know why but something in me thought it'd be a good idea to sneak into your room," he chuckled, pulling a chair towards the foot of her bed. He sat comfortably, eyes trained on the sight of Y/N pulling the duvet to her shoulders.

"He knows you won't hurt me," she waved it off. "He made it quite clear that he trusts you with his life. Ergo, he trusts you enough to keep my life in the palm of your hands. You chatting with me alone in my room shouldn't bother him-"

"-But Jay's ego is so big that if he finds me here, he'll wig out," he gladly finished for her, waving around his fingers as he spoke. "He told me about the small changes he allowed."

"Exactly," she laughed.

"Were you just saying all that to convince yourself that it's fine for me to be here?" He inquired, smirking

"Maybe," she trailed. "I just don't want to mess up, cross a line, have Jay find out and wig out and treat me like a doll again. You know?" She shrugged, belting out her explanation with a single breath.

"I know," Jake nodded, giving her a comforting smile.

Y/N had to wonder why she was letting this happening, why she found herself enjoying his company and the conversations he started up. She could have easily chalked it up to the lack of human interaction during all these years. She could have easily chalked it up to the desperation of needing valid attention.

He was sitting in front of her, with the first two buttons of his shirt undone, his fingers trailing up and down his thigh and he listened and spoke. He had a perfectly charming smile and a perfectly carved nose. He had eyes shaped like pointy almonds and his laugh- Y/N loved making him laugh.

If Y/N could box up his laugher and get lost in how ridiculously restricted it sounded, she would. Perhaps it was his laughter that put her to sleep that night, unaware of just how tired the adrenaline rush made her.

But it was the same adrenaline rush and the absence of laughter that woke her up hours later. Her head lifted off her pillow with a gasp, hands fisting her duvet when she realised Jake was still in her room, sleeping in the chair with his head thrown back.

The sight of him at peace didn't stop her from gaping, though. "Oh, my God," she said, then repeated herself a little louder. That was enough for Jake's eyes to shoot open and look around in complete confusion.

"What?" He rubbed his eyes with his palms, fingers scaling through his scalp as he fixed his hair. "What is it?" He mumbled.

Y/N squinted her eyes, forgetting for a split second that he wasn't supposed to be in her room. "How is it that your hair is still perfect?" Her lips parted while she dramatically parted.

Jake's face fell, a disinterest washing over him as he stared at the messily clothed girl in front of him. "You were freaking out a second ago and now this?" He raised his brows.

"Oh, yeah!" Her fingers buried in her face. "You're still in my room!" She reminded him like it was no big deal but the clench of her jaw betrayed her.

The warm Italian sun was rising and shone its light through the curtains. Jake found himself flinching at the hasty realisation, jumping out of his chair and straightening his shirt. "Shit," he cursed. "I'm not supposed to be here."

"No shit Sherlock!" Y/N scoffed, pushing the duvet off her legs and trudging towards the door. "Go back to your room before Jay wakes up," she opened the door and Jake gladly followed with fisted hands.

"You think he'll find out?" He stood at the entrance, hands holding the doorframe.

"He will if you stay any longer," she closed the door as a scoff left his lips. "I'm sorry you had to sleep on a chair!" Then the door clicked shut and her back leaned on the door, a hand running down her face.

It was then she realised the grim on her face and stench on her skin but she didn't find it in her to shower. Instead, she mulled over the number of ways the rest of the day could go while sitting on the edge of her bed and fixating on the chair Jake had slept on.

Now that she thought about it, her hotel room wasn't as spacious as she thought. The ivory carpet was comfortable, and the golden lights seemed to brighten the bathroom more than the actual room. The bed was large and had pillows cosier than the ones back at home- Jay's house.

All of that didn't matter because today would be the day she would venture the streets of Naples and eat something other than five-star dishes for every meal. The thought brought a smile on her face, an exhausted smile but a smile nonetheless.

When she moved towards her suitcases, her door opened again and her face fell, lips pursing. "Good morning," she heard her brother say, his sarcastic smile could be heard from a mile away.

"Morning," she sang, the same sarcastic smile spreading on her face as she turned to look at him.

"You're chipper," he commented. "Why?"

He was oblivious to the fact that his trusted, loyal and honest right-hand man was previously in the room.

"Because I have a request that I know you won't turn down," she smiled ignorantly, a sparkle in her eyes and Jay strolled towards her, rolling his eyes.

"Ah, yes," he mused. "Last day in Italy and the first day of filling your dream of getting the small sliver of freedom you've been chasing," he taunted, holding up his thumb and index as he described what he meant by small.

"Come on, don't ruin my mood," she slapped his chest with the back of her hand. "When are we leaving, anyway?"

"Late in the evening," he informed. "So whatever activities you have planned for today, they better fit the schedule," he added.

"Don't worry," she said. "I just want to go shopping and try pastries," she shrugged. Jay's face contorted into mild disgust.

"You really are miserable," he commented, though it was obvious to be passed on as a joke.

"No, I just want to enjoy the little things in life," she insisted.

"Please, don't become a romantic," he whined, his hand raising to hover in front of him.

"I've always been a romantic," she snarled. "You'd know that if you bothered to spend a little time with me."

"You'd be surprised," he rolled his eyes. "Just don't drag Jake into your romantic fantasies," he waved his hand.

"You're not funny," she rolled her eyes. "And for someone who trusts Jake so much, you really have a way of being subtle about your concerns," she pointed out. "Why?"

"Doesn't matter how much I trust him," Jay replied. "I know you and I know you'll do something stupid and drag him into it with you. Why did you think I ordered Sunoo and Jungwon never to talk to you?"

"Seriously?" She scoffed, mouth gaping. "You thought I'd fall in love with them or something?"

"No," he trailed. "But that might as well happen with Jake."

"Wow, you trust him so much," he taunted, drawling out her sarcasm.

"Seriously, Y/N. Don't make me regret being lenient," he scrunched up his face. "And it's weird enough that I'm having a conversation about love and emotions with you," he cringed while pulling out his phone. Y/N assumed he was going to call Jake.

She agreed with a tut, hands reaching into her suitcase to find new clothes to wear. Curiosity washed over her and she looked at her brother through her lashes. She licked her lips. "What would you do if something did happen between him and me?"

Her question was unacknowledged because he already had his phone pressed to his ear.

When Jake entered his hotel room, he wasn't expecting Heeseung and Sunghoon to be sitting on his bed, with looks of what he thought was concern on their faces. He furrowed his brows and tilted his head. "What are you doing here?"

"Waiting for you," Heeseung replied. "You're supposed to join us for breakfast in a couple minutes, Jake. Where were you?"

Heeseung and Sunghoon glared at him, though it was unintentional. Jake looked between the pair with hard eyes, contemplating if he could be honest with them. They'd find out, anyway. One way or another.

"I was in Y/N's room the entire night," he confessed.

Heeseung's jaw fell and he stood up, stepping towards Jake. "What, are you her new bodyguard?"

"I guess you could say that," he shrugged. "But I wasn't supposed to be in her room."

That was enough to have Heeseung leering at him, his hands reaching to fist his collar and dared to threaten him. "Listen," he seethed. "I know Jay won't literally kill us- his friends- when we mess up but his sister is a different story. He will explode if he finds out-"

"Can you calm down?" Jake pushed Heeseung off of himself, just as annoyed as he was. "I was just in there talking to her," he defended.

"Without his permission," Heeseung added.

"He won't find out unless one of us tells him," Jake rolled his eyes.

Heeseung looked over his shoulder to connect his eyes with Sunghoon. The pair were worried, for Jake and themselves. They'd keep a secret, no questions asked, but it wouldn't take long for the situation to unravel and become something more than a mess.

"You're gonna get caught up with her," Heeseung warned.

Jake tutted, then scoffed as his hands rested on his hips. "I already am!" He exclaimed. "I've been watching over her for years, I know all her schedules and the books she reads like the back of my hand. Can you honestly blame me for wanting to know more?"

Sunghoon sighed, leaving the bed and strolling towards Jake with furrowed brows. "No, I guess we can't blame you," he agreed, but the twitch on his mouth told him that he had more to say. "But whatever you do, don't get yourself in trouble. Don't throw around Jay's trust. Don't fuck yourself over."

He clapped Jake's shoulder twice and pursed his lips. Before the conversation could continue further, Jake's phone rang and he rushed to get it out of his pocket. "It's Jay," he mumbled but a part of him knew that he wasn't in trouble. He ushered the pair in front of him to calm down when he pressed the phone to his ear.

"Are you awake?" Jay's voice rang loud and clear.

"Wide awake," Jake answered.

"Good," Jay said. "Be ready in thirty minutes. My sister wants to go shopping and as much as I dread it, I'll still have to comply."

Jake found himself chuckling and the boys in front of him looked at him, confused. "Where am I supposed to take her?"

"I don't know, a mall? Some shopping street?" The confusion in Jake's voice was hard to miss. No one could blame him, though. He didn't know the first thing about letting his sister have fun. "She said something about enjoying the little things in life."

"Right, got it," Jake nodded and then hung up the phone.

He ushered Heeseung and Sunghoon out of his room after explaining the schedule for his day. The two boys glanced warningly at him for the last time before Jake shut the door and took a minute to himself. He leaned his back on the door, hands covering his face as he groaned and cursed at himself.

The next half an hour went past like a blur- he wore a shirt similar to the one he wore prior, black pants and leather shoes, a watch to top it all off. When he entered Y/N's room, he walked into the sight of Jay handing Y/N his credit card. They then turned to him and bid him their greetings.

The rest went downhill from there because he found himself driving to the nearest shopping street. Y/N thought malls were suffocating. He found himself glancing at her while she sat beside him, wanting to reach over and play with the end of her sundress.

Then he found himself carrying at least five shopping bags, filled with cheap dresses and tacky jewellery that looked beautiful regardless- and would certainly look stunning on her. She laughed and giggled and twirled as she skipped down the rocky pavement with a newly bought sun hat on her head. It matched her outfit to a tea.

Jake followed her without complaints. He was annoyed, yes, but that didn't stop him from smiling at how happy she was. It was like she was on top of the world, exploring for the first time in her life.

"You know, Jay was being nice to me this morning?" She said while walking beside him, a few shopping bags hanging from her forearm too. "Sort of."

"Oh, yeah?" Jake smirked as she nodded enthusiastically. "What'd he say?"

"Well, he was being his usual overprotective self and all," she started. "But in like a nice way. A funny, trying to keep it loose kind of way. He was talking about love and all with me," she glanced at him from the corner of his eyes, waiting for a response.

"I knew he was trying to be open with you but I wasn't expecting that," he chuckled. "What'd he say exactly?"

"To not drag you into a mess," she responded nonchalantly with a shrug.

"Me?" He asked, blinking with surprise as he gripped the shopping bags tighter. "Odd," he commented.

"I know," she crooned. "He thinks I'll fall in love with you or something. I don't blame him for thinking that but Jay saying it out loud is just weird."

Jake stared at the ground, swallowing a lump in his throat as he nodded. His hair covered his forehead, rosy red lips threatening to fall into a frown. "Yeah," he said. "Weird."

Y/N laughed, apologising for even bringing up the topic and skipping past him and into a cafe. He followed with a groan, padding his way past the door and letting her order whatever it was that she was craving- a cheesecake, blonde brownies and two cups of coffee, one for her and the other for him.

They found a booth somewhere in the corner, against the yellow bricked wall and beside a few potted plants. They rid themselves of the weight of the shopping bags and sat across from each other, sipping their coffees and enjoying the warm blonde brownies and cheesecake.

"Did you enjoy today?" Jake asked while he jabbed his fork into Y/N's cheesecake.

"Very much," she grinned, chewing on a mouthful of brownies. "I plan on dragging Jay into my room so I can do a little haul for him. I'm sure he'll love it."

"He'll suffer," he laughed and as did she, agreeing.

"I'm just trying to bond with him," she reasoned. "He'll go back to being cold-hearted soon but I plan on breaking that shell," she smiled proudly.

"Well, good luck on that," Jake offered. "I'm sure he'll come around."

"Hopefully," she groaned. "I want to have a good relationship with someone from my family," she grabbed a fork and dug at her cheesecake too.

"You don't talk to your parents?"

"Nope," she shook her head. "Jay acts like a messenger between them and me. They basically just handed me over to Jay and said figure it out. I have no idea why but I'm honestly better off," she explained.

Jake didn't understand how none of what she said bothered her. Or maybe it did, the indifference of her demeanour just hid it. He didn't know. "Why are you better off?"

"Because," she started, running her tongue across her teeth. "My parents are worse than my brother. Jay at least tries to keep me happy. My parents would just throw me in some room," she cringed.

"They can't be that bad," Jake furrowed his brows.

"Fine, maybe I exaggerated," she confessed. "But they still don't care."

"I didn't know all that," he waved his at her.

"Oh, really?" Y/N raised her brows in surprise. "I thought Jay would have told all of you."

"He never talks about it."

"Don't blame him for that either."

"Yeah," he agreed, shaking the great of his questions out of his head. He blinked and wet his lips. "What else do you have planned for the day?"

"Nothing else, I had my fair share of fun," she finished the cheesecake. "Why? Do you have something in mind?"

As a matter of fact, Jake did have something in mind. He was going to take her to Museo Cappella Sansevero which wasn't far from where they currently were. He was going to take her to an aquarium as well and call it an unofficial date.

He'd tell Sunghoon all about how she enjoyed it and how he made her laugh. He'd brag about how he spent an entire day with a pretty girl in a building surrounded by ancient paintings and sculptures and he'd gloat about how he took pictures of her in front of fish tanks.

Well, the fantasy was thrown out the window as the image of Jay's livid face fogged his head. It was only then that he realised the idea of an unofficial date was foolish. Selfish, too. Y/N might as well have laughed in his face if he carried it out.

So he just shook his head, a tight-lipped smile answering her question. "We don't have much time before the evening," he reminded. "We should get back soon so you can torture your brother with your haul."

That is exactly what she did. She dragged Jay out of his room and into hers and forced him to sit on a chair. Despite his groans, objections and complaints, he still sat with his fingers weaved on his thigh. Y/N put on a parade, showing him the various tops, skirts and dresses she bought.

Jay thought the necklaces and earrings she got were garish. Y/N silenced him and continued gushing. She talked about how warm the sun was and how she talked to the shop owners with the little Italian she learnt in her free time. She told him about the lovely cafe where she and Jake enjoyed a cheesecake and coffee.

"What, like a date?" Was Jay's response and Y/N threw a pillow at his disappointed face.

"The thought didn't cross my mind," she said. "Even if I do end up falling for your right-hand man, you should allow it because you trust him so much-"

"One, don't cross the line. It doesn't matter how much I trust him, my ego will still get hurt," he cut her off. "Two, Jake shall not find out about this conversation," he held up two fingers. "Three, I'm never talking about love with you ever again. And four, I'm trying to be a better brother so let me."

Y/N laughed at him, collapsing on her bed as Jay chuckled with her. They couldn't remember the last time they laughed together, a moment where anger or arguments didn't come into the way of siblingly bonding.

That smile stayed on her face as she was being guided around the airport, arm linked with her stoic-faced brother who gently sat her down beside him in the charted flight. They didn't talk. In fact, the siblings enjoyed the comfortable silence between them as one read a magazine and the other sat with earphones plugged.

When they reached home, Jay told her to sleep in her room while he and the rest of the boys dealt with something he wouldn't tell her about. "You can worry about unpacking tomorrow," he said and she fell right to sleep.

She thought her sleep schedule would start messing up if she kept waking up in the middle of the night. A creak made her groan awake and as she opened her eyes, she was met by the sight of Jake and his innocent smile.

Y/N tiredly smiled back at him, mumbling out a question that neither of them could comprehend. He chuckled, allowing his fingers to brush away the hair from her face. She rubbed her eyes, pushing herself to lean against her headboard. "What are you doing here?" She murmured.

"Thought I'd wish you a good night," he whispered back, crouching down to get a better look at her.

"How sweet of you," she cracked a smile, leaning into the fingers that rested against her cheek. "But you didn't have to wake me up."

"Sorry, I wasn't trying to," he coyed. "I'm not supposed to be here," he said, reminding himself rather than informing her.

"No, no you're not," she agreed. "But now you woke me up and I won't fall back asleep any time soon," her expression fell somewhere between a pout and frown and Jake found himself swooning.

"I can't sleep either," he shrugged a shoulder, tracing his fingers down her jaw.

Y/N doesn't respond to that, just smiled warmly and moved enough to push away her blanket. Jake looked at her a little confused, then questioningly but complied anyway. He crawled beside her, meekly moving his arm over her shoulders and she gladly got comfortable.

"If only Jay could see this," she snorted. "He'd be furious if he saw his right-hand man putting his sister to sleep."

"Which is why you need to speak a little more quietly," he uttered, but the pair laughed anyway. They struggled to hold it in and ended up in a laughing mess. But they were quiet enough. Nobody woke up.

"Sorry," she chuckled. "My sense of humour is broken."

"Pretty obvious."

Y/N laughed at that again, one hand covering her mouth and the other lightly hitting his chest. "Oh, my God," she snickered. "Not laughing is harder than I thought."

"Tell me about it," Jake took a deep breath. "But it's better than lying awake all night with nothing to do, right?"

"Exactly."

The pair turn towards each other, eyes connecting for only a second, smiles stretching to create a memory that would probably be burnt into their heads. Y/N looks away first, mostly because it was an involuntary action but also because she wasn't ready to break another rule in one night. Jake took a second, eyes easily gliding down the bridge of her nose to the turn of her jaw. Then he looked away too.

It was quiet for exactly twenty seconds where Y/N thought about what conversation to strike up next while Jake's head was riddled with ifs and possibilities of what would happen if Jay walked into her room. It was probably not the best thing to think about while her head was nestling into his arm.

"Why do you think Jay is trying to be better?"

Turns out, Y/N was thinking about the same person. A different reason but the same person, regardless. Fear was what she felt, a small dent in her stomach bringing her nerves. She knew what she was doing was wrong, to be letting herself feel so comfortable lying next to someone she acquainted with for less than a week.

"Because you asked him," he said, though he wasn't so sure of his answer. "He probably realised that he can't control you for the rest of your life."

"I hope so," she sighed. "I'm turning nineteen soon, I'd like to build a life for myself," she stated.

Jake shifts his head, eyes glancing at her hair. "When?"

"In a week," she said, fingers reaching to play with the ends of her hair.

"Oh, Yeah," he breathed. "I remember."

"You do?" Y/N shifted her head too and Jake's chin touches her hair. She doesn't seem to give a response to the contact but a swarm of butterflies rushed to his stomach and a chill ran down his spine- stark emotions colliding within his body.

"Of course," he swallowed. "Jay always reminds us. He gets excited."

"Really?" Her heart swelled, a warmth wrapping around her as she realised just how much her brother actually cared. "I didn't know."

"He didn't want you to know," he said. "He'd be embarrassed if he found out you knew."

"I can keep a secret," she grinned.

Jake grinned back, tightly. "What presents does he give you?"

"A ring," she simply said and Jake's brows lifted at the mundane response.

"A ring?"

"Yeah," she nodded enthusiastically. "Every year since I was three, he buys me a ring for every birthday. I'm going to get the sixteenth one next week," she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. "I'm only realising how much he cares."

"I don't blame you," he cleared his throat, slumping further into her bed. That made her head fall against his shoulder- he had no complaints. "The bad parts overshadow the good parts, most of the time."

"That's true," she nodded.

They were both tired, it was becoming rather obvious. Y/N smacked her lips together, eyes fighting to stay open. But she slipped into slumber, soon enough. Jake didn't notice until he looked at her again, her breath steady and moonlight highlighting her cheekbone.

He sighed in defeat, slowly sliding his arm away as she fell back on her pillow and Jake slipped out of her bed. He took the liberty to properly drape the blanket over her body, covering her arms and legs equally. She nuzzled into her pillow, humming. He slowly crept out of her room.

The nights leading to her birthday went the same way. She didn't ask him to, but he'd slip into her room to talk to her every night. He'd blame it on the lack of interaction between them during the day because he was either busy with paperwork or she was given no other choice but to stay in her room.

She usually spent breakfast with Jay, where they would talk about the most random things that came to mind. It was an unspoken rule- for Y/N to never ask about what he did for work every day. She was content enough with laughing and bonding with her brother.

Lunch and dinner, though, she was either sitting alone on the dining table in an empty house or sitting in her room with her face stuffed with food. The tv was usually playing a movie, other times she listened to music.

It wasn't as depressing as it sounded, the constant loop her life scheduled. Because she had two highlights in her days. One in the morning, where she'd chat with her brother and the other at night, where Jake would lay beside her and keep her company until she fell asleep.

Neither did Jake talk about what he did in his day. He'd usually just tell her the gist- exhausting, boring, typical day for someone who worked in the business he did. With that answer, Y/N had to wonder what it was that she was being protected from, why she was being guarded like a precious gem that could be stolen. She realised she'd rather not know and she'd realised that they'd rather not tell. Living in a plane of oblivion was always better.

He once told her about his life in Australia and how he used to be with his parents and big brother. He talked about his dog, Layla, like he was talking about the love of his life and it made her smile. His accent finally made sense.

Y/N didn't have much to tell Jake. Her life was boring. She elaborated on Pearl and how Jay had always had a crush on her when they were kids. They collectively made fun of him for sleeping with her even with the knowledge of her marriage.

She also told him how Jay finally told her about Andrei and how he and her dad were childhood friends. Andrei was the reason Jay was part of a mob and he was the reason they got to live in both luxury and misery.

When her birthday finally came, Jake didn't have the chance to wish her. He knew for a fact that Jay would be surprising her at the stroke of twelve. That was exactly what happened.

Y/N, oblivious to her brother's plans, was still awake, waiting for Jake to come into her like he was doing for the past week. But it was safe to say that she was much happier seeing Jay tip-toe into her room with a small birthday cake in his palms.

He had an excited smile on his face- a smile she rarely saw- as he sang Happy Birthday. A single candle was lit on the birthday cake and she quickly blew it out. The small celebration happened quietly and lasted until the pair managed to finish the cake. Before he let her sleep, despite knowing it'd be hard with the sugar rush, he handed her a birthday gift.

Another ring, like Y/N wished and expected for. A ring that was shaped with flowers, colourful enamel painted on the petals. "That is the opposite of tacky," he said and she laughed at his humour.

She was glad that he could freely joke around with her, regardless of the situation.

She didn't see Jake that entire day because her brother took her out for the first time in a long time. She wasn't complaining, mostly because she was too engrossed in the empty park they walked around and the empty theatre they watched a movie in.

Regardless of how much Jay was willing to let Y/N have fun, he sure as hell wasn't going to pass up an opportunity to book out entire parks and theatres. He had the money, so why not.

Y/N honestly didn't care as long as she was with him. She couldn't remember the last time she enjoyed a day out with her brother.

They got home later in the evening and Y/N agreed to stay in her room for the rest of the day. When she walked past Jungwon and Sunoo, they wished her a happy birthday- she smiled gratefully at them, then shut the door of her room and sunk into the white sheets of her bed.

Suddenly it was like her old life chased her down, following the same loop she was so used to. Today was a rare day, a special day that probably wouldn't be repeating itself until next year. It was just one day.

She wondered if she could plan something special for Jay's birthday, too.

That night, when the moonlight filtered through her curtains and crickets chirped, Jake snuck into her room again, a determined look on his face. He held something in his hand, hiding it behind his back as he cautiously made his way towards her bed.

"Hey," Y/N whispered to him, a beaming smile on her face.

"Hey," he cooed back. "I didn't get to see you all day," he said as he slipped under the sheets beside her.

"I was with Jay the entire day," she explained. "A special birthday surprise," she jazzed her hands, earning a low chuckle from Jake.

"Before you tell me about it," he started. "Happy birthday," he crooned as a finger reached to tap her nose. They smiled at each other, humming. "And I got you something," he added and pulled out an averagely sized box.

Y/N gasped softly. "You really didn't have to," she insisted but he shook his head, ushering her to move and sit in front of him. She complied, both crossing their legs as they sat in front of each other. Jake opened the box to reveal a bracelet, a simple, silver chain that would wrap around her wrist.

"It's not much, but it's something you'd like," he smiled sheepishly.

"You're right," she gushed. "I love it."

"Can I put it on for you?"

She nodded enthusiastically and Jake softly reached for her hands, fingers nimbly wrapping the bracelet around her wrist, cool metal touching warm skin. He was right, it suited her.

"Thank you," she lifted her hand to ogle at the bracelet around her wrist. "It's so pretty."

"Pretty girl deserves pretty gifts," the words slipped out involuntarily. He played it off with a shrug and leaned against the headboard. Y/N trained her eyes on him, moving closer so that their knees were touching. "How'd your day go, then?"

"Oh, right," she chewed the inside of her cheek. "Jay came into my room with cake at exactly twelve in the night and then in the morning we went to a park and ate ice cream. Then we went to watch a movie."

"Jay really did all that?"

"Granted, he did book out the entire park and theatre but it was still fun," she added, a sly grin taking over her pursed lips.

"That's the catch I was waiting for," he laughed. "What about your parents?"

"They messaged me a birthday wish and sent me some money," she scoffed, darting her eyes away for a brief second. "They act like they're some distant relative of mine," she commented.

"At least, you have Jay and me," he offered. Y/N nodded, agreeing with a minuscule grin.

Silence followed with that. Neither of them were complaining, though, because they just gazed at each other, pupils fighting the dim moonlight. Y/N found it in herself to move her hands towards his, nimble fingers playing with his. She always thought he had pretty hands and she knew how bizarre it sounded.

Jake watched as her hands played with his fingers and recalled how he wanted her to do the exact thing. Her index scaled the span of his palm, then the crevices between his knuckles and veins. She paid so much attention to the one thing she was doing, he found it adorable.

"Can you believe that less than two weeks ago, Jay and I were at each others' throats?" She mumbled, a light chuckle following her observation.

Jake hummed. "Can you believe that less than two weeks ago, you and I were strangers to each other?" He nodded between himself and her.

"Yeah," she giggled. "And all it took was for me to be a whiney brat," she muffled the cackle that left her mouth.

Jake laughed at her, chest rising and falling as he felt his heart race, banging against his ribs as Y/N absentmindedly wrapped her palm around his two fingers. Her delicate, little hand around his. He would curse if he could.

"I'm pleased with the way things turned out."

While Y/N nodded, Jake let his free hand wrap around her wrist, tugging her towards him. It was clear that she wasn't expecting it, almost slipping onto his lap. But Jake caught her, his other hand holding her waist as her palms landed on his chest.

He exhaled, chest heaving as her body pressed against his, lips parted. Y/N darted her eyes across his face, flitting to read what he was feeling. "I'm pleased too," she gulped, smiling ever so lightly that anyone could have missed it.

"Good," then his fingers were wrapped around her chin, guiding her face closer to his. Their eyes fluttered shut in unison and Jake caught her lips with his.

Y/N wouldn't say that she felt sparks fly. No, it was something subtler yet more intense. It was like waves of butterflies crashed down on her, the back of her head tingled and her spine would have given up if it wasn't for Jake holding her tight. As her hand travelled towards his jaw, she felt fire between her fingers.

A moan parted from her throat, her brows furrowing when Jake's lips parted from her with a wet smack. Y/N's eyes fluttered open, breathless just as he was. "Was that supposed to be my second birthday gift?"

Jake chuckled dryly, shaking his head as he leaned towards her again. "Take it as whatever you want," he pecked her, repeatedly, punctuating each with a smile as his hands buried in her hair.

If it weren't for the air conditioning, she was sure she'd spontaneously combust out of joy, excitement and ardour. She wouldn't say she was pining over him. Hell, they only started talking a week ago. But a part of her knew he was pining for her, for a longer time than she knew.

He made it quite obvious. He was so nice to her, so caring and endearing. The bracelet as a birthday gift just gave him away. Maybe she was happy, maybe she was scared. She didn't know which overpowered what as her brain turned into mush while he held her.

All she knew was that she liked him and he liked her. What more could she possibly ask for?

Right. Her brother's acceptance.

"Shit," she cursed as Jake's palm pressed the small of her back, her chest arching into his. He sighed, darting his eyes up and down her face before kissing her nose, and then her cheek and then her forehead but his lips found their way back to hers nevertheless.

"What is it?" He breathed, giving up and resting his chin in the croon of her neck. She slumped against him, her arms latching around his neck and the smell of lavender filled her nose.

"Jay," she reminded him.

"I just kissed you," he pointed out. "And you're thinking of your brother?"

"Exactly, you just kissed me," she whined. "And if he finds out-"

"How will he find out?" Jake hummed as Y/N pushed herself off him, sitting inches away from his touch. His fingertips traced her cheek, pushing back any strand of hair that covered her face.

Oh, how long he had waited for this exact moment, to have her freely for him to touch. For her hands to explore his face and chest and for his hands to disappear in her hair. But there would always be something stopping him- them.

"I don't know," she hissed. "It's Jay! He'll find out somehow!"

"Then let's just hope he doesn't find out any time soon," he tried. "I'm not gonna let him ruin this."

Then Y/N felt butterflies in her stomach again and she fought the smile that threatened to grace her features. Jake didn't hesitate to grin, pulling her closer to him and letting his hand roam her waist, fingers sliding under her shirt and trailing lines across the band of her pants.

She giggled, lips tracing his jaw and complaint that she felt ticklish. He told her that it was the whole point- she whined as she kissed his jugular. Jake's hands refused to leave her hips, he held her in place, praying that he could have a few more minutes to spend just like that.

They didn't know how long they stayed that way, lips on each other's necks, hands teasing the little exposed skin they could find. But however long it was, nothing seemed to be enough. Jake left her room when Y/N started feeling sleepy. He left with a kiss to her head and mouth and slipped past her door.

She woke up early regardless and she chalked it up to the adrenaline that still surged through her veins. The previous night's activities dazed her head as she raced down the stairs and into the kitchen. Jay sat at the dining table just like she expected, a plate of waffles with whipped cream sitting in front of him. His attention stayed on his phone, though, even when she settled beside him.

"Good morning," she sang but received no answer. Well, if she counted a hum as an answer, then so be it.

The cook hurried to hand her a plate of waffles as well and she smiled at him, reaching for a fork and knife. She wasted no time in eating, oblivious to the way her brother's jaw clenched and unclenched, eyes narrowed to an empty screen on her phone.

"Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed or something?" She chuckled, chewing a mouthful of waffles.

Jay tutted, shaking his head and shoving his phone into his pocket. "I might as well have," he grumbled. "How does one react to finding their right-hand man sneaking out of their sister's room in the middle of the night," and his hand reached for a tissue, wiping it between his fingers.

Y/N stilled her actions, fork falling out of her hand as her eyes connected with her brother. He was truly livid, fires of anger blazing in his eyes as his fingers intertwined under his chin.

"What?" She blinked, a chill running down her spine. Her hand hovered in the air, hair falling into her eyes, mouth agape.

"Don't play dumb," he rolled his eyes. "Do you know how angry I was?"

"What did you do?" She panicked, palms pressing against the slick wood of the table. The cutlery shook, her plate might as well have dropped to the floor.

"Yelled at him for a good fucking hour," he seethed.

"That's all you did?"

Jay doesn't respond but takes his knife and fork to his waffles. Y/N watched patiently but it felt like her head could detonate at any given second. The worse possible scenarios crossed her mind- was Jake still his right-hand man?

"He's still alive, if that's what you're wondering," he said nonchalantly. "He's not just my right-hand man. He's my best friend. I'm not cruel enough to kill him."

If she could, she would sigh out of relief. But more questions surfaced. But she wasn't in a place to ask him anything. After all, she did betray him.

"Not two weeks and he's bought you a gift for your birthday and had the nerve to kiss you," he let out a breath in disappointment. Y/N bowed her head down, embarrassed by just how much he knew. She couldn't blame Jake for confessing, though. She would have confessed too. "To be fair, it was inevitable, right? Falling for the brother's best friend- you've always been a clichè, right, Y/N?."

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, playing with her thumbs. She wasn't sure if it was the right thing to say but it was the only appropriate response she could muster.

Jay ignored her, continuing to eat calmly. The shiny watch on his wrist slid up and down as he moved his arm while eating. Y/N knew her brother well enough to know that he was seconds away from exploding into fury. This was the calm before the storm, for all she knew.

"You'd think that I wouldn't mind you having a rendezvous with him. You know, because I trust him and whatnot," he continued, echoing the words she had said to him before. "But that's the thing. I remember telling you not to drag him into your romantic fantasies," he chewed on another piece of his waffle.

Y/N sat in her chair shaking, wondering how on earth she messed up so bad. Not two weeks and she had ruined her chance of freedom and a better relationship with her brother. Not two weeks and she proved that she didn't deserve anything she asked for.

"Now I'm sitting here with my ego hurt. And we all know how I am when my ego is hurt" he reminded. "But I'm torn between minding my own business and doing something about it. So tell me, what should I do?"

It was a rhetorical question. Y/N knew that. She felt like a little girl being scolded by her parents after committing a small crime. But this wasn't a small crime. It was a mistake that might as well cost her relationship with her brother. So she just sat there and took it. She was on the verge of tears, the corners of her lips twitching downwards.

"Because I don't want to do something about it. You're legally an adult. You can do whatever you want, right?" He coaxed, staring daggers into her head. "Right?" Y/N hesitantly nodded as he persisted. "Which means you can take care of yourself. So why need me at all? Why do I have to bend over backwards to do everything in my power to make sure not a hair on your head gets hurt?"

"Jay-"

"I'm doing everything I can to keep you safe," he said. "But guess what? You aren't the only one telling me that I'm being unfair. Heeseung, Sunghoon, Jungwon- all of them. I don't want to know why they have a sudden interest in you and the way I treat you. But call it peer pressure. I was being convinced. And not two weeks, you find a way to make me regret being nice to you."

"So you only put effort into being a better brother because of them?"

"No, Y/N. Everything I did was so I could call you a sister. So that you could look at me like I'm your brother. Not some monster that locks you up in your room all day," he insisted, slamming the cutlery in his hands onto the table. "Can you blame me for being angry that you and Jake have your thing going on?"

"No."

"What am I going to do when you have a falling out? What am I going to do if Jake, my right-hand man, my best friend, is the reason you get hurt?" He retorted, eyes squinting. "I can't abandon him. Neither can I abandon you, can I?"

"What if we don't have a falling out?" With the sudden surge of confidence, Y/N spoke back, head tilting at her proposal.

"Funny thing is, Jake said the same thing," he scoffed. Like on cue, Jake was walking into the kitchen. The fear in his eyes covered by the clench in his jaw and fisted hands. Jay and Y/N turned their heads to look at him. "You did say that, didn't you, Jake?"

Jake nodded, training his eyes on Jay as Y/N willed herself not to cry. Everything was going to be fine.

"But that's the thing. Who are you to predict what might happen in the future?" He pursued. "It's always best to prepare for the worse, right?"

"But why?" Y/N whispered. "Nothing bad will happen- Jay, I like him," she reasoned. The girl might as well burst into sobs as she pointed between Jake and herself. "You and him are the only people I have in my life."

"I know," Jay growled. "That is what leads me to my conclusion."

Jake and Y/N shared glances, both scared and confused. "What's your conclusion?" Jake urged.

Silence was what followed as Jay continued eating. All Y/N and Jake could do was stare and wait patiently. This was their punishment, the silence that followed the verdict. The numerous thoughts and possibilities that conjured in their heads.

What could possibly happen now?

The sound of metal clattering with porcelain seemed to be the only distraction. Y/N fought the urge to coax him, force an answer out of him because she swore if she waited any longer, she'd go crazy.

Jay even stood up and kept his plate in the dishwasher. He cleared his throat, dusted his shirt and ran a hand through his annoyingly bleached blonde hair. He glanced at his sister and his right-hand man and gave them a curt not.

"You can do whatever you want."

Y/N gaped, her jaw might as well have hit the floor, eyes involuntarily widening as she started her brother up and down. It was safe to say Jake gave the same expression, hands hovering in front of him.

"What?" Y/N asked.

"I'm furious," Jay reminded the pair, the same stoic expression on his face. "But I'll allow it. You're so confident in yourselves, right? So be it, I'll let you two live it down. Call this a test. I was just trying to see if you're answers would stay the same."

"You can't be serious," Jake stared, stepping closer to Y/N.

"I am being serious," Jay said simply. "I accept this relationship," it took every muscle in his body not to cringe.

Then Jay walked out of the kitchen because he didn't know what he would do if he continued the conversation. Y/N and Jake were left frozen in their spots. They were still confused, puzzled at what just happened. So there was no storm, Y/N thought to herself, and he raged for so long just because he was mad.

Would it be appropriate to cause after her brother and hug him? Probably not the right timing.

She knew how much Jay had to suppress to let out the words he just said. So all she could do was be grateful. Her mouth only closed when Jake touched her chin with his fingers. She blinked, shaking her head and looking at Jake.

"What just happened?" She asked.

"I think we just got Jay's blessings," Jake mused, pulling a chair beside her and collapsing in it. A sigh left his lips, hands resting on the table as he tilted his head towards her.

"How are you so calm?"

"Why would I not be?"

Jake looked back to the prior night when Jay had caught him walking out of her room. He looked back to the way Jay seethed at him and spewed words but the tears that brimmed his eyes were unmistakable. Jay wasn't just angry, he was giving Jake the protective brother talk.

Maybe a part of him saw this coming. Jay couldn't do anything to stop it. Well, he could turn to physical force but he wasn't as cruel as people made him out to be. So he wasn't worried. He knew Jay would come around to it someday, learn to be happy with the way things turned out.

Because the way things turned out wasn't so bad, after all.

"What did he say to you?" Y/N's hand moved to rest on his, thumb touching his knuckles. She moved closer to him; Jake chuckled and placed his hand on her knee.

"Not important," he assured. "But can we just celebrate? This is the best day of my life!"

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