sweetsungie

[sweetsungie]

Part 4 of the hanji fic was amazingly heartbreaking!!! i LIVE for the angst!!!

but like also, i just love how you write! your characterization of everyone???? just everything is perfect 🫶🏼

ahhhhh YASS THE ANGST 😭😭 (even tho it be breaking my heart while writing)

tysm for ur kind words anon!! i appreciate them sm 💗

[sweetsungie]

the silence between two special songs | h.j | part 4

pairing: souncloud! jisung x reader (ft. dancer! hyunjin)

genre: college au, childhood friends to lovers, fluff, angst, mature content, fwb, mutual pining, unrequited love, rapper jisung, english major reader

series: the silence between two special songs

word count: 22k

warnings: cursing, fluff, total angst fest, marijuana use, smoking, a lot of making out, jealousy, mentions of sex, oral (f. receiving), teasing, dirty talk (???), slight dry humping, heartbreak, toxic situationships :(

synopsis:

falling in love with someone was one of the best and worst things a person could do. you'd remember the first time your heart skipped a beat at the sound of their voice and how perfectly their lips fit into yours. you'd remember how they encapsulated every single fiber being within you that you could no longer breathe when you were around them; likewise, you didn't want to.

you'd remember all the good things about them.

but then you'd remember the first time it ached knowing that they cared about you, but not enough. how they loved you, but not the way you wanted them to.

not the way you wanted hyunjin to.

and not the way jisung wanted you to.

•°. *࿐

a/n: this was such a hectic couple of weeks ughhh!!! i hope you guys enjoy this chapter though, a lot of heartbreak and angst and feels and ahhhhh :’( 

as always though, the series spotify playlist is linked below so listen as you read, if you can (i’ve updated with skz replay 2022 hehe)

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

comment to be a part of the taglist <3

masterlist

series playlist

You believed that loving him was like chasing after the clouds. 

“We never made it, did we?”

You knew it was impossible, but you still craved it, just for the excitement, the thrill it gave you; for the feeling of adrenaline coursing through your veins. 

But after a while, you realized it was pointless. 

Absolutely pointless going after something that was completely out of your reach.

It was scary to find someone that made you happy. 

You would start giving them all your attention because they were what made you forget everything and consume anything. And for a split second—that felt like forever—you would find yourself realizing that everything bad in your life had disappeared.

They would be the first person you would want to talk to in the morning and the last one before you slept, just so you could start and end your day with a smile. It all sounded great to have that someone, but it was scary to think about how easily they could just leave and take that happiness away with them.

But still, it was the best thing in the world and you wouldn't trade it in for anything else.

“Fuck Hanji—” You sobbed, back arched, nails digging, and fingers gripping into the sheets below you. This had to be your fourth orgasm of the night—no, maybe fifth. Who knew? You honestly weren't keeping track anymore.

All you knew was that this shouldn't be happening… again.

Jisung’s voice was muffled. “Mhm I know baby, let it out.” He peered up from in between your legs, watching you unfold before his very eyes into a blissful contracting high, over and over, all because of his mouth. “Let me know how good I’m making you feel.”

He, out of all people, knew that he really should not be doing this. 

He shouldn’t keep coming back to you—not like this. Not when he had his heart delicately worn on his sleeve and you were the one to play with it.

Words suddenly didn't seem to exist anymore as you struggled to keep your trembling legs apart. Ultimately you failed, nearly trapping the boy’s head in between your thighs as you rolled over to your side. 

And although Jisung should’ve been regretting it, scolding himself to stop after the first time he made you finish tonight, he couldn't keep a smug smirk from forming on his lips. He lifted himself up to watch you fucked out, eyes shut. 

Sure, he was used to it by now. But he could never get tired of the view. 

He rolled you so you were wholly on your back again, your body limp as you were still in the process of regaining any sense of strength you had. Lowering himself onto his forearms, he leaned himself slightly onto the top of your chest, upper bodies pressed together. Like always, he wanted to feel you closer.

Kissing you gently at first, soft skin gliding over softer skin, he pulled your lower lip between his, drawing on it slightly. “Another?” His warm breath blew across your cheek, a hungry look in his eyes. 

It should’ve felt like you've both done something terrible, like robbed a liquor store, or swallowed pills, maybe even stole some candy from a kid—but as his embrace became more heated, his hand clasping around your neck and stroking up and down until he felt you relax—it felt like complete bliss. 

You shuttered so easily against his touch. The barest tip of his tongue moved forward to tease your upper lip. You welcomed him, and he began to explore your mouth with purpose, catching you almost unaware. 

The lack of words from you was what caused his hand to wander. It trailed down the side of your waist, down your hips, and right in between your legs again before grazing a finger against your wet, throbbing bud. 

You moaned against him, your hips lifting from the contact. It was ridiculous how needy you had gotten within the past few weeks. Ever since you had gotten a taste of what a real orgasm felt like, you just couldn't stop. 

Partly because it felt so good in it by itself, and partly because, well, it felt so good that you seemingly forgot about all your worries.

Ever since break had begun, there had been a constant routine in place. 

You’d wake up, think about Hyunjin, go on your morning walk, read, take a nap with a random movie playing in the back, think about Hyunjin some more, read again, and get into bed. 

Then, you’d end up not being able to fall asleep. So, you’d spend some time on your phone—an hour, maybe even two. Just long enough until you’d run out of applications to fornicate with, ultimately leading you to think about Hyunjin again.

What was he doing? What did he wear today? Did he have a good day? A bad one?

It was embarrassing, pitiful, and pathetic and all you wanted to do was shame yourself in the mirror because of how utterly miserable you were acting over a boy.

So later you’d result in texting Jisung, and bother him until he’d understand what was going on with you. He had mastered the language of ‘girl’ after spending his whole life dealing with you.

And because of that, he’d end up calling you even though he was flooded with work right next door at his desk and was too lazy to get up and talk to you in person.

You’d always let it ring twice—sometimes two and a half just because you didn't want to seem too desperate for what you had in mind.

"I'm bored," you’d sigh dramatically.

He would simply laugh as his heart quickened, mind running back and forth between yes, no, yes, no, until he was stuck on yes as if some malware had corrupted his system. A beautiful, yet dangerous virus.

After what happened the first night, you had told Jisung multiple times that he didn't need to do this anymore. You felt bad because it seemed like he was just doing this for you. 

When you made the first move, he was hesitant and overly nervous.

"Are you sure?"

He paused for a second before nodding his head. "Yes,” and he told you honestly. He had made a contract with himself before even entering your room that he’d forget the consequences—just this once. He could have everything.

He’d insist and tell you that he didn't mind—that if you needed to release your stress, he could help you. And because of this, it didn't help that he seemed to be feeding into your addiction. You had no choice but to believe it. 

So now, if it wasn't for the sudden discomfort you felt against his fingers, you would've kept going to have your next climax—because you needed it, and because you wanted it.

But it would all happen again tomorrow, right? 

Wincing from the overstimulation, you pulled away from his swollen lips slightly. “Mm—I don’t think I can go again.” Your pelvis was growing sore and the space between your legs began to ache.

He nodded, his mouth moving against the surface of your skin for a few moments more before halting his movements. He lifted himself, falling over beside you with a sigh. 

Turning to look at him, you took in his flushed-out face. “You want next?” You asked, beginning to reach for the waistband of his sweatpants before he stopped you.

He shook his head, eyes closed with sleep. “No, that’s okay.”

“Are you sure? I feel bad.”

“Don’t feel bad.”

“Easy for you to say. You never let me go down on you,” you huffed out. “I feel like it’s not fair.”

It was true. Based on the laws of orgasms between more than one person, it wasn't fair. Everyone involved should be able to feel the sweet sensation of release. But Jisung felt like he didn't deserve that—especially not from you. 

And it wasn't as if he hadn't lost all his self-respect already, he somehow managed to save the last shred of it by not letting your lips anywhere near his dick.

Surely, you both have had sex multiple times by now, with the two of you chasing your highs. And if he was lucky, sometimes he’d even finish twice. But something about the thought of you solely out to please him, and only him—He’d lose his mind once and for all.

Jisung was nothing but a humble servant. It was better this way for him. Opening an eye to glance over at you, he plastered a ridiculous smile onto his lips. “Don’t feel bad for abusing my skills.”

Your mouth fell agape and you slapped his chest. “Bitch, I literally just offered!”

His hands came up to shield himself, now fully awake. He laughed until you huffed out in playful frustration. “I just want to sleep with you, that’s all.” 

“You can silly.” You engulf him in a kiss and he hummed, pulling away ever so slightly.

“But like in the innocent way.” He wasn't sure if you understood where he was going with this.

You groaned dramatically, a humorous smile forming on your lips. “You're so boring…”

“Oh, am I?” He raised an eyebrow, quizzically, and you nodded. “If I’m being honest, I was expecting you to get down on one knee while asking to give me head… so if anyone's boring, that’s all you.” 

You paused for a moment. "Now, you're the stupidest person I've ever met. Did you know that?"

He let out a complacent laugh. "I get that a lot. Good thing you help me with my homework! But you love it, don't you?" He teased, taking a strand of your hair and twirling it around his finger.

Whatever. You rolled your eyes, "I don't know, do I?" 

His phone sounded with his ringtone. "I sure hope so.” 

As he turned over to your nightstand to grab his phone to answer it, you sat up, cringing at the big mess you made between your legs. You needed to shower quickly before Minho came home and hogged all the hot water. 

He was finally coming back after a full week away for break. He had gone on vacation with his parents and cats and you couldn't wait to hear about it tomorrow. 

“In the morning?” Jisung groaned slightly from beside you. He sat up, leaning to grab one of your plushies that found its way onto the ground, and lazily hugged it to his chest. “That’s so early… Yeah, yeah I know… Fine… I’ll see you then.”

And with that he hung up, tossing his phone down on the space in front of him. His expression screamed with slight annoyance and despair and you couldn’t help but teasingly question him over it.

“What's with the face?” You chuckled, tossing on a shirt.

“I have to go to the studio tomorrow at like seven in the morning,” he exhaustingly hurled his head back onto a pillow.

Immediately your eyes brightened and you hopped back onto the bed beside him. “I wanna go!”

For the past couple of days since break had begun, Jisung, Chan, and Changbin had been trying to rent out a spot at a studio to record and plan for their third mini album.

This was a big deal for them because they were never able to do it in any other place besides their small studio setup at their houses. So they did a lot of research and were slowly trying to expand their resources.

Jisung looked at you with the utmost confusion ever, “Did you miss the part where I said it was at seven in the morning?”

“So what? That means we get an early start to our days!”

Now he was really fucking confused. “Let me get this straight. You—Y/N—wants to get an early start to your day? It must be opposite day.”

Your jaw dropped, “What do you take me for? I can get up early.” He gave you a look that screamed with ‘in your dreams.’ It made you scoff at his audacity. “You really underestimate me.”

He lightheartedly rolled his eyes, trying his best to fight an amused smile at your annoyance, “Hmm, I guess I do.” He could feel his face beginning to heat up and he mentally cursed himself out for it. “Either way, the answer is no.”

"Why?"

He paused for a moment, thinking. "Because you talk too much it’s distracting."

You raised your eyebrows and pointed at yourself. "Me? I’m the one who talks too much?" 

He nodded in response, just to get you worked up for his own personal enjoyment. And it worked considering you glared at him for a couple of seconds. 

“Jisung, you and I both know that you’re the one who never shuts up.”

“Woah, now I’m just offended.”

“How?”

“Because you make it seem like it's a bad thing Y/N.”

“Well, that's because you made it seem like it too—You know what? Never mind, I don't wanna go anymore.”

If anybody heard you both, they would've assumed you were an old bickering couple.

He bursted out laughing and kept trying to reach for you—trying to touch you to apologize. You had to tell him to stop many times until you relentlessly gave up. "I’m sorry," he cheekily grinned, poking the fat of your cheek, "Forgive me."

“Shut up, Han.” You swatted his hand away.

Placing a hand on his chest, he gasped. “Ouch, not the government.” After a moment, he exhaled loudly like he had been keeping in a breath for too long. "You know what?" He said to you. He slid his fingers through yours and squeezed your hand.

"What loser?" You were still kind of mad at him.

"You're my favorite person.” 

He felt you laugh a little and it made him smile.

"Oh yeah? Out of how many people?" You asked.

"All of them babe,” he winked. “So, fine, you can come.” You squinted at him for a few seconds, suspicious of his sudden switch-up. “What?” He laughed, giving your hand another squeeze. “C’mon, I’ll buy you coffee and food too.”

“I feel like this is a joke and you're just trying to get my hopes up.”

“Definitely the case.”

You pushed him away from you, jokingly. “Fuck you.”

But when he brought himself back to you, touched your bare arm, and then cupped your chin, he turned your head to face him. “Kidding.” It felt as if the stars were dancing across his skin. "You can actually come. And if it helps I’ll give you kisses all over your face,” he proudly stated, lifting a finger, “but don't even dare try to nap on Changbin’s shoulder either, even though he has more muscles than me! You can only nap on mine… or the arm of the sofa.”

You laughed, shaking your chin from out of his grip. "Are you always so greedy?"

His eyes glinted, "With you, yes.” Easily, yes.

“Gross, Sungie. You made it sound real for a second,” you faked a gag. "But okay. I’ll go if you want me to so badly.”

The two of you didn't know what to call it, what was happening between you, but you both liked it. It felt silly and fragile and good.

Usually, he would’ve argued back but he’d let you have it just this once. “As aggravating as it is, I do.”

You laughed, “See, this is why you're my favorite person, too, Ji.” You snuggled your head against him. “By a long shot.”

Silly, fragile. good, and everything else in between.

By the time you both needed to leave the next morning, it managed to take a lot of willpower in getting the both of you out of bed than expected.

It didn't help that you and Jisung were running off of only a couple of hours of sleep either, so the thought of ever getting out of the warmth of your sheets was pushed far back in both of your minds. 

But soon enough, you realized that someone had to take one for the team and get up first, or else neither of you would ever make it. Yet every time you mustered enough energy to attempt to get up, Jisung would always pull you right back in into the warmth of his embrace. 

And of course, you had no other choice but to let your body fall into his control.

This was why the both of you were an hour late. 

As expected, Chan lectured the both of you when arriving—more so Jisung, since the older boy didn't have the heart to blame you entirely for his friend’s laziness. Although, he knew in reality you were all the more reason for it.

“I told you that we should’ve said six instead of seven,” Changbin butted in from where he was seated. “If we did, he would’ve come right on time.”

Jisung flicked him off, “Shut up. This isn't even fair because you live with Chan. If you were me you would’ve overslept too.”

Changbin mocked him in a childlike manner and Jisung nearly launched himself on top of him. This was normal behavior between the both of them so you and Chan simply laughed as a result. 

Soon after the bickering ended (with Chan having to interfere of course), the boys finally began to work and you found a spot in the back where there were couches to catch up on some reading. 

Despite the fact that you had read a lot during the break already, you had only been reading the book Hyunjin had given you. And you were nearly finished with it, but for some reason, you couldn't bring yourself to actually complete it.

This was why you were stuck reading some random book that you ordered online a couple of days ago now. 

You weren't too sure as to how long they had rented out the studio for, but you had assumed it was for a good part day by the looks of it. A couple of hours had passed by now, with the three of them in and out of the recording booth. It was interesting at first watching the music process behind the scenes, but now you were starting to grow bored.

What did you expect though? They paid for this room so surely, they would be doing what they planned on doing which was working. 

You sighed to yourself, flipping to the next page. Where was your free coffee and food? Maybe you should bother Jisung about it soon because he made a bold claim about it yesterday.

You looked up to watch him from where he was at. You could hear his light mumbles as he repeated the lyrics. He was sat across, his back facing you, and tapped his pen against the table whilst he made up a random tune to go along with it. You resisted the urge to let your eyes linger on him for too long. 

Although you couldn't see it from where you were sat, his eyes traced his notebook as he lazily swayed himself in his chair. But you didn't need to see his face to know that he had a faint crease between his eyebrows as he focused. 

And suddenly you felt something pool in between your legs at the thought. You imagined your mouth moving down to his neck and breathing in the scent of his skin so he would gasp. You imagined taking in the taste of him, running your hands down his chest, kissing your way across and down the line of his torso.

You tried to not make it obvious that you were openly studying him. 

But ultimately, you failed as you suddenly felt a pair of eyes on you—and it was Chan’s. He had caught you staring and immediately after, your cheeks flushed red. Undeniably enough, he most definitely did not know the reason behind your stare, but still, you felt icky.

Why were you so aroused all the time? It was embarrassing.

You would have shaken your head if you could have found it.

"Alright, tell me what you think," Jisung said to the boys beside him, passing his notebook. It woke you up from your daze. He leaned back in his chair, spinning around in it briefly to face you and give you a quick smile. 

But, looking at your flushed-out appearance, curiosity quickly washed over him as he wondered what had been on your mind. 

The boys soon gave their input, agreeing with some of his additions. “But maybe you should ask Y/N. She has a fresh eye,” Chan suggested suddenly. 

Jisung’s eyes widened slightly, at your name. He needed to stop getting flustered so easily. He was just unsure of where his friend was taking this so abruptly. 

He took his notebook back, silently hoping that Changbin wouldn't agree with Chan. 

“That’s true. Sometimes a new person could help,” Changbin added before turning back to look at you. “Y/N, come here real quick. We need your input.”

With a sigh, you stood up from where you sat and walked over to them. Jisung hesitantly passed you his notebook and a minute passed before you finished reading what he had wrote. 

You were silent for a moment, reflecting.

"Hmm… I think," you said slowly as you leaned over to place his notebook in the space in front of him. His eyes followed your actions. "I think that you really can drive a person crazy by simply refusing to look at them. I like it.”

You were referring to a specific line you had read.

Jisung chuckled to himself softly, tracing his tongue lightly against the bottom of his lip. He turned around in his chair properly so his back was facing you again and he couldn't see you anymore. 

His elbows now rested on the table as he sucked in against his teeth. "I suppose there isn't anything quite like being ignored by someone you have feelings for, huh?"

It was nearly two in the afternoon before you decided you were pretty close to disliking books. You had spent so much time today reading and pausing and reading and pausing—you were so tired of looking at pages.

You also didn't have any room to voice your complaints. You were the one who basically begged to go last night but now you were slowly starting to regret it. And sure, it would've been easier to just leave right then, by yourself, but a part of you wanted to prove to Jisung that you wanted to be there. 

It was your stupid and really lame way of trying to show your appreciation to the boys because this was their first time in an official studio. But the clock was moving too damn slow, probably even slower than usual.

You sighed to yourself, throwing the paperback book onto the opposite side of the couch. That was enough of that. How much longer was this going to take…

“Alright, let’s take it from the top.”

It took everything in you to not groan loudly for everyone to hear you. Today wasn't about you and you had to keep reminding yourself of that. And it worked… for maybe another half an hour until you just couldn't take it anymore.

You picked up your phone and began to type away.

you: i’m bored

No response. You waited a few minutes before texting again.

you: like realllyyyyyyy fucking bored

Nothing.

you: han jisung

Okay, clearly, he was busy working right in front of you… but still. His phone at the very least should’ve lit up. Maybe he was on do not disturb. You were growing irritable.

You stood up, ever so abruptly, and walked over to him. You grabbed his phone that was facing down. He was too busy looking at whatever was on his laptop screen before shooting you a glance from the side.

“Yes?” He asked and stopped typing.

You unlocked his phone and placed it on his keyboard before walking back to the couch. Luckily the other two boys beside him were too busy on their own devices to pay attention to what happened.

It took a few seconds before your phone lit up with a text.

jisung: oh

jisung: me too

jisung: wanna cuddle?

You rolled your eyes still a bit moody but quickly typed nonetheless.

you: yes

jisung: wait

jisung: i was joking

you: oh 

You paused briefly, unsure of what to say next. Now what. 

jisung: fuck it lol

jisung: bathroom? 🫠

Your eyes glanced up from your phone, and Jisung casually stole a look at you before setting his phone back down. It was like you both knew what the answer was going to be. Almost immediately after, you stood up and told the boys that you were going to the bathroom. 

You were very, very restless. 

But the second you stepped out of the room, you realized that you didn't know where anything was. Maybe this would be the perfect time to reflect on your poor, polluted thoughts from earlier. 

“Y/N?” A familiar voice suddenly called out.

You turned to the voice at the end of the hallway behind you, and soon after, you took a stumble backward. It was Seungmin and Hyunjin. 

The same voice, which was Seungmin’s, spoke once more. “Thank God we found you! We’ve been lost for the past ten minutes walking around this building.” His hands carried two brown bags and he made his way to you. “Where are the boys?” 

You were still quite startled by the sudden sight. Then everything processed once Hyunjin took his first step towards you. You looked absolutely disgusting right now. Your hair was a mess, your body was engulfed with a hoodie that was quadruple your size, and you probably still had morning face—you just didn't feel too good about yourself.

The two of them finally met you where you stood, frozen. “Oh—um… hey guys,” you coughed out. Gosh, you were making it so awkward.

“Hi,” Hyunjin waved at you with his usual dimpled smile. His hands were full as he held a cup tray of sodas.

“So, do you know where the room is?” Seungmin prodded, impatiently. 

You swallowed, your eyes struggling to break away from admiring the long-haired boy. “Y-Yeah sorry. It’s just down there.” You pointed over at a door on the right side of the hallway. 

Seungmin thanked you shortly after and headed towards the door. It took him a couple of seconds before he realized Hyunjin wasn't by his side but rather, still in front of you. 

“You coming?”

Hyunjin looked over his shoulder, “Hm? Uh, in a sec. You can head in without me.” You could hear the ice in the sodas clink together as he turned back to face you.

The beanie Hyunjin wore prevented his hair from getting into his eyes. The color was periwinkle and it complimented his skin nicely. 

Yeah, you definitely felt and looked like shit. 

Silence followed subsequentially after Seungmin disappeared behind the studio door. You cleared your throat, “I didn't know you were back.”

His eyes brightened a bit when you spoke. Usually, he had to be the one to start the conversations when it came to you. “I came back last night.”

You nodded slowly, wanting to hear more about it. “How was home?”

“I mean, it was nice seeing my family and KKami,” he shrugged, “the weather wasn't too cold either, so that was nice.”

He paused, trying to think about what more he could say. 

“... Ah—and I worked on my art a lot! I would love for you to see it.”

“Oh…” Your eyes grew slightly bigger at the second half of his response. “Me?” You were feeling like you didn't hear him properly. 

“Yes! When you have time, of course,” he nodded giving you a warm smile. “But um… art aside, overall, I missed everyone a lot,” he proceeded to say regarding the conversation. He felt himself getting off track.

You wondered who fell under the category of everyone.

It had been so confusing these past few weeks with Hyunjin and you weren't too sure about what he was thinking. Maybe before you would have had an inkling, but now? You had no clue.

All you knew what that every time you looked at him you were sure of how you felt. You’d passed by each other and your heart raced and you were sure of how you felt. One day he was acting cute with you and the next it was awkward and you’d never speak. 

“I’m sure everyone missed you too, Jinnie.”

It just made you unsure about everything on his end. He was never yours to begin with, but you couldn't live without him. 

He laughed softly, “So does that mean you missed me then?”

You sucked in a breath, quietly, unsure of how to respond. Was he flirting? You weren't too sure if this was considered that. He was probably being nice… just like he was nice for inviting you to see his art.

Just as you were about to answer, the studio door opened, revealing Jisung.

His eyes instantly widened as he took in the view of the both of you, “Oh—um, sorry.” He suddenly felt bad for interrupting your time with Hyunjin. He quickly walked back into the room not bothering to wait for the both of you to respond.

You and Hyunjin both looked at each other for a moment before deciding to follow Jisung into the studio. Whatever was left of your slightly awkward conversation soon died out and suddenly you didn't need to go to the bathroom anymore now that Hyunjin was here.

Once entering, Seungmin was in the process of unpacking the food he had bought for everyone out of the bags. The smell alone made you want to smother him in a big hug because you were starving. You hadn't gotten a proper meal today yet because of how late you and Jisung were and there just wasn't any time for that beforehand.

By the time everyone sat and ate, the room was full of conversation. It seemed to be a mutual understanding between both you and Jisung that you both just weren't going to be needing the bathroom anymore anytime soon. 

It was pretty obvious by how you sat beside Hyunjin and nearly laughed at everything he said.

Jisung was pretty sure that whatever it was that had you laughing so loudly every other minute couldn't have been that funny. He was a much better comedian than Hyunjin. Well, that's what he liked to believe anyway.

Soon enough everyone took the lunch break a bit too much to their leisure because Changbin was currently standing at the front of the room—with Chan by his side as his special assistant—in the middle of a game of charades. 

This was obviously not the time for it, especially when the boys had paid money for this room to get work done. But a few games didn't hurt. 

Changbin grabbed spun Chan around so everyone could see his back, and smacked his butt. 

“Bin, you’re clearly mimicking Minho.” Seungmin blandly said immediately, which made everyone laugh. “Who else smacks ass?”

The boy sighed dramatically in defeat before plopping down on the couch. “You guys could’ve at least tried to act like it was good.” He took a long sip of his drink before speaking up, “Hyune, you’re next,” he called out. “Make it hard or else Seungmin’s going to win.”

Seungmin gave Changbin a quick sarcastic smile before directing his attention to his phone. 

“I’m not good at this,” Hyunjin complained, laughing. He stood near the producing tables in an effort to somehow mimic one of the members of 3Racha someway. He was honestly just going to make it up on the spot.

Which he did… sort of. It was just really, really bad.

Changbin looked at the boy confused, “You need to be a little clearer than that my guy.”

“Take it easy on him,” Chan chuckled. “Just try it again Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin grabbed a pair of headphones from the table, not realizing that the wire had tipped over Jisung’s drink. It wasn't until his eyes caught a glimpse of the white cup on its side and sheets of paper starting to darken from the liquid seeping through it that he gasped.

"Oh shit!” He set the headphones back down and quickly picked up the cup hoping to prevent any more damage. But honestly, it was already too late.

Chan immediately stood up, speeding over to the scene. It took him a moment before he slowly lifted a notebook and looked over at Jisung who was busy listening to whatever nonsense Changbin had to say. 

And as Jisung caught a glance at Chan’s expression, his lingering smile faded when he realized the notebook Chan had in his hands was his, except completely soaked with soda. 

He shot up from his seat to see what happened and his heart almost broke at the sight. He saw his notebook—the one which housed literally every song from the past few years, ruined. There was no way this actually happened. He had to be dreaming. 

“Hanji—Shit—I’m so sorry!” Hyunjin felt terrible.

Your eyes widened and you walked over to them to see what the commotion was about.

Jisung was completely silent. He honestly had no words. He was just overwhelmed with so many emotions and was afraid that if he did speak, he’d regret what would come out.

You gasped, as you watched him carefully go through the pages to see how much was destroyed. “Ji…” You knew how much this meant to him.

He sighed and closed his notebook, setting it right back down on the wet table. 

And he walked out of the room.

Hyunjin’s face was pale, all the color basically sucked out of his face. This was all his fault, he thought. Why did he always have to go and ruin everything?

Chan swallowed, not knowing how to break the silence that overtook the entire room. He honestly never saw Jisung that angry before—neither have you. He was silent, not showing an ounce of emotion, and simply just left.

The tall boy began to panic. “What do I do? I fucked up—”

"It was an accident,” Chan sucked in a breath of air, picking up the notebook from the mess again and setting it off to a drier side of the table. He also knew how important this was for Jisung but he saw no point in shaming Hyunjin for it. It was already done. "Ahh... Binnie, can you grab some napkins? Let me go and check up on him.”

And you were about to offer to take his place and talk to Jisung yourself, but Chan already walked out of the room.

There was music that sounded loudly throughout the entire apartment. 

It was nearly eleven at the night and soon enough your neighbors would start knocking at the front door because of it.

“What the fuck is he still on about?” Minho grunted as he stood up from the sofa. He was in the middle of trying to finish his show. 

Your bedroom door was open so you glanced over at Minho from where you were seated at your desk, and watched him as he went and knocked on Jisung’s door. 

Ever since the incident at the studio, Jisung had been so quiet—completely silent in fact. You felt like you were walking on eggshells around him for the first time in your life and it scared you because you never saw him like that before.

Usually, when he was upset, he’d get over it after a day or two. But now it had been almost a week since and you didn't know how to tackle it.

Sure, you’ve definitely been mad before—definitely too many times to count—but you always had him to help you out of it. He’d always suffocate you with hugs, bring you food, and refuse to leave your side until you cracked a smile. 

But now that the situation was flipped, you weren't sure if acting all bubbly and joking around would help him feel better the way it had always worked on you.

Minho knocked again much more adamantly, “Jisung.” Still nothing. “We will get a noise complaint if you don’t turn your stupid music down.”

A few moments later, the music stopped and Jisung swung his door open. He brushed past Minho, who furrowed his eyebrows at the boy's borderline rude demeanor, and then proceeded to zip up his coat and put his shoes on by the door.

Where was he going?

Once he walked out, the apartment fell silent. You felt like a bystander, especially by the way you watched this all happen from your room.

If this was what he was like when he was mad, order would never be restored on Earth. There was no way.

The remaining boy, let out a loud breath, sitting back down on the couch and pressing resume. “I’m trying my best to give him the benefit of the doubt but…”

“I know,” you sighed. You understood where both of them were coming from. Jisung had been acting out irrationally ever since and it was so irresponsible. He hadn't even been replying to Chan or Changbin—so much so, they were worried and came over to check up on him.

But still, you felt sorry for him.

That was years of his hard work down the drain. 

You grew worried about him now, wondering where he actually went. He probably shouldn't be alone out in public and you were afraid he’d get into trouble somehow. Maybe he went to the roof? You were name-dropping a few places in your mind, but the roof seemed like the most plausible option.

Standing up from your chair, you grabbed a hoodie and threw it on. Before leaving your room though, you made sure to grab the new notebook you had bought for him a couple of days ago. You weren't sure if he already had a new one by now, but you still wanted to give him it just in case.

You walked over to the front door to put on your shoes and Minho said, “Let me know when you find him.” 

Of course, Minho was still upset with Jisung’s behavior, quite frankly he wanted to explode, but he was still his best friend. He knew that this was just his own way of coping with what happened.

You nodded, giving him a light smile before heading off to the rooftop of your building. You really hoped Jisung was there, frankly, you honestly had no other locations in mind that made sense.

He rarely went out and when he did, it was to his friend's houses. But since you already knew that he wasn't actively talking to any of them, that wouldn't be the case.

Once walking out of the elevator, you heard soft faded sounds of music playing from the farthest end of the roof. You smiled to yourself softly, quickly realizing that it had to be him. 

You quietly walked over to him, sitting down beside him without a word. He was in the middle of taking a hit from his pipe, later blowing out the smoke. And now that you were there beside him, you honestly didn't know what to say. You didn't think that far ahead.

He glanced over at you, offering his pipe which you gladly accepted. You placed the colorful glass in between your lips as he lit the weed that was inside of it. 

None of you said anything yet and for the first time, you felt an awkward tension arise between the both of you. You weren't good at consoling other people. It was just something that you struggled with your whole life. 

So after taking a hit, you breathed out a simple, “I’m sorry.”

After a few more moments of silence, Jisung lightly scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“No, I’m sorry. You didn't deserve that,” you frowned. “How can I help?” He shook his head, releasing smoke into the cold air again. “Seriously, Ji I—”

His voice snapped and was much sterner this time around, “Stop it, Y/N. It doesn't matter anymore. It’s done and there's no going back now.” 

You flinched at his tone and immediately his features softened once he realized. 

“I…” He sighed. This was why he had been avoiding everybody. He didn't want to blow up or say anything that would make anyone feel bad. It would've made him feel even worse—seeing you now, made him feel worse. “I’m sorry. I really don't know why I’m like this.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not okay. I know I’ve been annoying and I feel like shit knowing I’m stressing everybody out,” he quickly refuted. “I feel terrible for feeling this way, but I’m upset. I can’t not be upset.”

Within these past few days, he had been going through trials and tribulations. He knew Hyunjin didn't do it on purpose so he couldn't be too mad at him about that. He was just upset. And it was stupid because he was upset at Hyunjin more for stealing your heart away than ruining all the work he had down for the past few years.

It annoyed him so much because of this. 

Hyunjin stole you and now the only other thing Jisung had for himself—his music. 

He took a deep breath to himself, feeling a bit lightheaded now from all the weed he had smoked. 

And he guessed that was how a person knew they loved someone: when their heart ached; when their stomach dropped; when their lungs felt like they were caving in, just because of the thought of them with someone else.

You placed something on the faux grass that suddenly captured his attention: a new notebook. “I know that it may not have everything your old one had, likewise, it never will—but I hope that you could at least make new memories with it?” You suggested.

His quiet music still played from the speakers of his phone and he could've sworn to himself that the world was moving in slow motion. Any normal best friend would've gotten their grieving friend another notebook if that was the reason for the sadness. It’s obvious. 

But, the gesture was too much for his heart to handle. Especially when he was this high. Especially when he was this upset about himself—and you—and Hyunjin—and life.

Immediately his heart rate increased. “I love you,” he blurted out. 

You laughed sweetly, not paying attention to the weight of his words. “I’m glad you like it, Sungie.”

“Too much—I love you too much,” he continued, quietly this time. 

You shoved his shoulder gently. “Quit it. You're making me blush.” You tried to make the conversation turn into something light-hearted. Something you hoped to help his mood.

But he was slightly feeling even worse. You weren't taking him seriously.

After talking with Chan that one night a few weeks back, Jisung had tried his best to get you out of his mind. But even still, he found himself thinking of you late into every night, hoping that there was a chance that you might’ve fallen asleep thinking about him, even for a second. 

He found himself making lists in his head of what new things made you laugh every day, just so he could hear it more and more. He found himself unable to look away even when you were just carelessly reading a book; sometimes, especially then. 

He could not erase your beauty from his mind, because the moment he'd look at you from that different perspective, he could not go back. After seeing you as beautiful, he could never again just look at you with indifference.

So he kissed you—without warning, without permission, without even deciding to do it but simply because he couldn't have done anything else—he kissed you. 

He was in pain, hurting, and all he wanted to do was feel you—you were the source of quite literally everything good and bad in his life. And he needed that breath you were holding because it belonged to him, and he wanted it back. So much so that he kissed you deeply enough that as he fought for what was his, you forgot whose air you were breathing.

The smell of your hair, the taste of your mouth, and the feeling of your skin seemed to have gotten inside him, moreover, into the air all around him. You had become a physical necessity.

"Ji…" You mumbled against his lips. 

You were on the roof with a beautiful boy, and he was trying to tell you that he loves you, but you didn't care to listen. He loves you, you know?

The formerly quiet music was now concealed by both of your loud breaths. Once he moved his mouth to suck onto your delicate neck, lightly biting, that's when you whimpered, unable to keep your composure. 

Seemingly so, it affected him the same because he pulled you on top of him so you straddled his waist. He didn't like the space between you and him. He moved his lips against your jaw, and your chin, and painstakingly slow down the left side of your neck until he was kissing the hollow at the base of your throat.

"Jisung." You breathed out again, your eyes beginning to feel heavy from the sensual feeling between your thighs. You weren't expecting this to happen. He tugged at your hoodie, beginning to pull it off, but you jumped at the sudden contact of coolness hitting your exposed skin. "Shit– Ji, we can’t," you whispered, pulling your hoodie back down.

"Why not?" He asked. 

“Because.”

He tilted his head up slightly to look at you, his hands continuing to explore underneath your hoodie. “Because?”

Seconds later, his lips hovered themselves against yours again, lightly brushing over them. He gave you the one thing that you wanted most. He made you feel desired. You knew it was wrong but the very thought of his hands gliding up against your bare torso and touching you made you blush in all the right places.

“Honestly I thought you’d participate more,” he hummed. You moved your hips against his very much clear hard-on and he bucked his hips. "Fuck." He caressed as much of you as he could reach and kissed you hard. Tightening every muscle in his body. He had to force himself to not go back downstairs and throw you on his bed. 

So what if Minho saw?

He wanted to go slow with you, for his sake. But it was just so hard. He wondered if there would ever be a time when he’d actually need foreplay to get hard with you.

You let out a half-chuckle, amused by how affected he was. “I'd participate.” You stopped grinding your hips and pushed away his hair from his forehead, endearingly. "But not today.”

It didn't quite hit him that he had basically confessed that he loved you until he felt you try to move from off his lap. His grip around your waist tightened. 

He wondered if it could be so hard for you to love him. 

Maybe tonight wasn't the night for you to know that. Maybe someday he’d tell you again, but instead, he’d write it and put the message in a bottle and throw it into the ocean hoping it would somehow reach you when the timing was right. 

“Can we just stay like this?” He asked, suddenly afraid to look into your eyes. “Please.”

You gave him a warm smile, nodding. 

He bit the inner corner of his cheek and squeezed his eyes shut in hopes of it maybe stopping him from saying anything he’d regret tomorrow. He leaned forward, his head fitting perfectly in the crook of your neck. 

“Could it really be so hard to love someone like me?” he repeated to himself.

Letting out a wisp of smoke into the air, he reopened his eyes. 

“Perhaps, it is.”

You checked your phone briefly to see if Minho had texted you but all your eyes captured was the time displayed. You began to get lost in the ticking of the clock you had imagined in your head.

“It’s 11:11 make a wish,” you whispered, setting your phone back down. You wrapped your arms around his neck to hug him closer and squeezed him a little tighter. 

“I’ve got mine,” Jisung replied instantly and you were too curious to keep yourself from asking what wish provoked such a quick response. “Can I tell you?” He questioned, wondering if sharing a wish truly kept it from coming true. 

“I don't know, write it down in your new notebook and tell me in a month,” you offered.

“How about in 20 years?” He asked with a contagious smile that you knew was there although you couldn’t see it.

You rolled your eyes, laughing. “Sure, that works too.”

He lifted his head from your neck and pulled away slightly. He stared at you while you were in the middle of asking him if he had felt better now, but the look in his eyes made you pause, "What?" You asked self-consciously.

He shook his head lightly. "Nothing," he said, maddeningly. You scrunched your nose in distaste. "I just," he said slowly, carefully. "I just want to hang out with you my whole life. You know?”

You made your way to the art studio with your hands both carrying a coffee each and with a pastry bag hugged against your chest. It was raining and you probably looked ridiculous without an umbrella, but you didn't mind as you were on your way to see your man that wasn't your man but was at the same time. 

It was complicated. 

Surely, the both of you hadn't been spending nearly as much time as before. But, you had hoped that now that he had invited you back to the art studio, things could go back to how they were.

Finally arriving, you used your shoulder to push open the parted door of the art studio since your hands were clearly already occupied. As you opened the door, Hyunjin turned his head to meet you, and his pink lips automatically curved into a smile. 

Then, it took him half a second before gasping at the sight of you basically drenched from the rain.

He quickly stood up from his stool to assist you, "Oh no!" He helped you by taking the coffee and pastry bag from your hands and setting them down on a nearby table. “Let me get you an extra sweater.”

“Hyunjin, it's okay,” you waved off. “I’m not cold.”

He shook his head not wanting to hear it. “No, no—you can get sick. Wait here, let me get it from my bag.”

It took him a minute before locating his extra sweater from his dance bag. He quickly draped it over your shoulders and your heart did that thing again. The thing where it sped up ever so instantly. You were entering dangerous territory by having his clothing encompass you like this. 

It smelled too much like him.

He gave you a dimpled grin, "Thank you for bringing these. You really didn't need to… especially since you got soaked in the process."

You chuckled, “Don't worry about it. I hope the pastries survived.”

He passed you one of the coffees you had brought. "They should be okay.” 

It didn't really hit you until now that you were back at the place where you kissed Hyunjin for the first time. It had been a while since it happened and you couldn't help but feel your mouth grow dry from the thought of reliving it. 

You took a sip of the lukewarm drink and looked at him.

It didn't take long for you to see the boy of your dreams staring right back at you, with his smile so wide and bright. He held a big canvas in his hands, ready to show you, and you felt content. You felt secure and safe around him. And when he looked at you, he made you feel so whole.

And it was simple, really. You wanted the feeling. 

The feeling where the world stopped and started all at the same time. You wanted to feel the rest of the world fade away when that one person was holding your hand. You wanted to know a pair of eyes in a crowd that saw only you. You wanted that warmth—the kind of love that filled every space within you and spilled out into the rest of your world. 

Coloring it with hope. And love. And that feeling that only true love can awaken in a heart. 

The feeling of being whole.

Although his look alone could make you feel an adrenaline rush like you were high off him, there was something about the way he watched you as you were busy observing his work. It was like you had years of artistic experience and it was your opinion that only mattered to him. 

It was almost six in the evening and there you were, still sitting beside him on a stool while he explained what everything meant in his piece. It was exciting and meaningful and pure—it was him. 

He stopped speaking for a second, noticing your sudden gaze on him. You were too busy in thought. You really couldn't pinpoint a single flaw on his face. 

He let out a breathy chuckle, "If you’re looking for a way out, I can stop." He didn't take much offense in it as art could sometimes be boring after a while, but you shook your head rather swiftly in response.

"No! I’m awake,” you cleared your throat. “I was just looking at you," you confessed bluntly.

He laughed loudly, his head dipping back slightly. "You're cute."

“You’re cute too.”

"I guess we make a pretty good team, then," he responded. You hadn't noticed how quiet the room had gotten afterward. 

It was funny how much tension could construct itself out of thin air. 

He stood up, grabbing a much smaller piece of work to replace the one you had just looked at. “Does this kind of remind you of anything?” He asked. You looked at the canvas, unable to understand what he meant. He saw how confusion narrowed in between your eyebrows and he giggled. “It's based on the book I gave you a while ago.”

You looked away and took a few moments to think to yourself before meeting his eyes. They were the ones that didn't seem to stray away from you during your short departure. “I haven't finished reading it yet.”

Of course, it was the truth but, you were nearly close to doing so. You could easily depict what he was trying to express in his work but you didn't want to ruin it.

You recalled how the girl in the book didn't fall in love with the boy when she first saw him. She didn't feel any change in heartbeat. Having those feelings for a random boy that she just happened to see often never crossed her mind. 

But then the girl began to notice him, in the ways he spoke, how he chose his words carefully and politely. She began to notice how he always held the door for people and how he respected them. She noticed how he smiled at others and how he got others to smile and her. 

She noticed all of those little details and moments and combined they showed her how beautiful of a person he truly was—-maybe that’s what made the girl fall in love with him completely.

He quickly removed the canvas and flipped it over, “Oh! I shouldn't spoil it then, huh?”

A small breath left your nose and you nodded. “Yeah. You can show me after I finish, okay?”

His eye contact was goosebump-inducing as his lips began curling into a smile while he muttered a sweet, "Okay."

You wished you could explain his eyes instead, and how the sound of his voice gave you butterflies. How his smile made your heart skip a beat and how every time you were literally just around him, you felt so nervous but so complete.

You just wished that you could show him how much he meant to you. Exceptionally so, that you wished you could let him take a look into your mind so that he would see for himself just how much you were in love with him. He was your world and you honestly would’ve spent every day for the rest of your life proving this to him if you could. 

That you were wholeheartedly his. You’d always be for him. 

“Let me show you this one instead!” He offered, setting another similar-sized canvas on the easel. 

As he spoke, you looked over at him, wondering how you could begin to describe your feelings. His smile was so consuming that all you could see were the tops of his cheeks, and the fact that he could literally blind you with happiness was a perfect representation of the kind of effect he had on people. 

He made you happy.

He didn't know the spell he casted over you. He didn't know how every time you were around him it felt like you were living your own self-made fairy tale. You were detached from the world, fallen completely into his—and you never wanted to leave. 

You wanted the fairytale to go on and on, never wanting the story to end. You wanted to stay in this time and place forever, because, with him, there was nowhere else you’d rather be.

You looked at him like he was art and you held onto his words like they were falling stars. 

"You give good advice," you said shortly after he finished explaining his thought process behind this piece of work.

He sheepishly smiled, "I know."

"... Maybe you should start taking it," you looked into his brown eyes in deep thought.

"Hm?"

You shrugged, tilting your head as you thought to yourself for a couple of seconds. You knew that ever since he had come back, he was having trouble readjusting to everything here. You acted like you didn't notice but he was so close to falling apart and you didn't want him to deal with it alone. 

"I mean, you always call art beautiful and courageously mean it, but how is it that the most beautiful person doesn't realize that he too is all of those things and more?"

Maybe you were digging up a hole that he wanted to keep buried and maybe you did regret those words as soon as they left your mouth—but it was said and no matter how much you tried to somehow take it back, it was done. 

He looked down at his lap, clearing his throat as he bit down on the bottom of his lip lightly.

Maybe you did cross a line this time. "You know what, forget I said any—" you started.

"Sometimes, I don't know…I just feel like," he groaned, not appreciating his inability to form his thoughts into coherent sentences. "I just feel like I don't really matter anymore—well, not Hwang Hyunjin me, but like me, me.”

He was the boy who fed into his insecurities and starved himself of potential.

“And it’s not like it's anybody’s fault! It’s really not—it’s just…” He was struggling immensely. “I want people to be happy, I always do. But now I feel like I’ve found myself trying more.”

He never usually said much, but his mind was a storm, his creativity insatiable; he was an enigma. Truly a mystery to you, but the depths of his eyes spoke volumes. His head housed the most intelligent conversations and although he never spoke them out loud all the time, you knew it. 

He never said much, but in the end, that didn't matter. You read him so clearly and he had no idea.

You sighed, “Are you still hung up on what happened with Jisung?”

After that day, Hyunjin felt the worst he’d ever felt in a while. His thoughts were brutal. They were vicious, and mean, and picked out every flaw that he had. 

His mind always won against his heart and they became too much for him. His heart became heavy and he needed to remind himself to breathe and that he was okay—that everything was okay—clearly knowing that it wasn't at all.

“Kinda,” he exhaled before he ran his hands down his face trying to sober up his dilemma. Suddenly his phone rang and it startled the both of you.

He glanced at the contact and sighed to himself again before turning to look at you with a frown. He felt guilt wash over him as he saw the contact although you couldn’t see it for yourself.

You were too busy trying to find the words to tell him that you liked that he trusted you enough that he was willing to confide in you. 

He paused for a moment, and as you were about to say something, he beat you to it.

“I’m sorry, I need to go.”

“Can you like… stop using your phone?” You snatched Jisung’s device from his hands and hid it underneath your leg. “We’re watching a movie.”

He groaned, throwing his head back against the couch. “Well, the movie you chose is lame. Right Lix?”

Felix looked up from his phone, “Huh?”

You rolled your eyes, “You guys suck.”

It was the weekend before finals began and you had sacrificed your studying time to hang out with your friends. Felix was finally free from his theatre escapades for the semester and suggested a night of baking and watching movies. 

You weren't even too sure how Jisung managed to sneak his way into these plans. He had been spending an awful amount of time locked in his room lately, granted, he was trying to catch up on everything he lost. But today he had left for a couple of hours, probably to meet up with his friends, and somehow made it just in time for the movie to begin.

Yet, of course, they took you for granted and clearly wasted your time though.

Felix set his phone down, throwing an arm over your shoulder. “Okay, I’m sorry! I’m done.”

You squinted at him, testingly. “Really?” He nodded and gave you a pinky promise.

“Okay, wait—why won't you take Felix’s phone too?” Jisung pointed out from the side. You shushed him before redirecting your attention back to the movie. 

In their defense, the movie was actually pretty bad. You didn't want to agree with them though because technically, it’d be your fault for choosing a horrible film then. 

As a matter of fact, before watching the movie, you wished Minho hadn't been busy preparing for his dance final so he could stay and spend time with you all. But now, you were thankful he had other plans. He would’ve eaten you alive for wasting his time like this.

Once the movie came to an end, Felix ran to the kitchen to check on the brownies. 

Jisung held his palm out to you, “Phone please.”

“You’re so annoying.” You chuckled, placing it into his hand nonetheless. “This is why you don't have an ‘M’ on your palm, loser.”

You were referring to the old childhood myth behind the meaning of palm lines. 

Apparently, if the lines managed to create an ‘M’ letter, then it meant that you would get married in the future. It was stupid, you both knew it. But it was a debate you two had sometimes when you were younger.

“I might not have an ‘M’ but,” Jisung opened your hands and began to trace tiny little circles on the lines of your palm, "didn't you know? I can read palms too." He concluded it with a sarcastic gasp.

Your eyebrows rose as you looked at the boy with an amused expression, "Oh really?" He nodded and you studied the boy for a few moments not believing him in the slightest, but went along with it anyway. "Fine, what's my future then?"

"Us."

You sat up, now laughing as you threw a pillow at him. "I can't believe you just said that.”

He brought a hand up in defense, "Listen, I just made that up on the spot. You should be proud of me that I am still able to do that even though my brain is fried."

Not bothering to entertain him any longer, you joined Felix in the kitchen and the both of you snacked on brownies. As much as you wanted to say you did most of the work when it came to baking it, Felix was the pro. He had many years of brownie baking on his belt.

The both of you managed to spend the rest of the evening talking about life and honestly anything else that was interesting or new. You could tell that both of you needed it. He’d been overworking himself the entire semester so to finally be done, was so rewarding. Plus, talking to Felix was always like a breath of fresh air.

By the time he left, it was nearly ten o’clock. You weren't too sure if Jisung was still home since his bedroom door was closed and he wasn't anywhere in the living room. So, you went back onto the couch and kept yourself busy with your phone.

You should've really been studying though because shortly after, Jisung peeked his head through his door. It seemed like it was all the more reason for him to bother you.

“Is he gone?” He whispered even though it was sort of loud.

You raised an eyebrow, “Who? Felix?” He nodded. “Yeah, he just left.”

Without a word, he walked over to where you were on the couch and basically snuggled up against you—more so his entire body nearly on top of you. 

"Ji, what are you doing?" You questioned him. 

He nestled himself in a little more, "Making sure you're comfortable." 

"And how will you accomplish that by lying on top of me?"

"I won't." A shadowy grin appeared on his face although you couldn't see it. "I'm just doing that because I like lying on top of you.”

"Well, I don't," you rolled your eyes. His chest brushed against yours, sending a velvet shiver through you. 

"That's a lie."

You huffed, letting his clinginess be. This was normal Jisung behavior anyway. So, you stuck to using your phone some more. 

After a few silent minutes, the faded noise of the television still present, Jisung lifted his head up to look at you. "Just so you know, if you want my lips on any piece of you, I'm more than willing to appease you,” he said suddenly.

Your mouth dropped.

"And my willingness to comply extends to my hands, my fingers, and my dic-”

"Oh, my gosh," you cut him off. “You could’ve just said you were horny instead of listing all your… services.”

"Services?" He tipped his head toward you. "That sounds so dirty."

“Jisung.”

“Yes?”

"You're so annoying." You sighed, obviously frustrated by him.

He lightly smirked, "What? How?" You gave him a look. “So annoying, that you wouldn't walk straight the next day? Or, so annoying that you want me to get off of you?”

You couldn't help but feel the familiar chills run down your back and hit you ten times harder. Suddenly you were too desperate for his touch and taste in a matter of seconds. Desperate enough that your inner thighs begged for a kiss and you wanted his lips to make it rain.

"What's with the weird eyes? Relax, I was joking," he laughed and began to lift himself from your body.

You pulled him back on you almost immediately, "I was just thinking about how big you are."

You briefly glanced down at your joined hands. He carefully stroked the length of your palm with his thumb. And when you looked at each other again, his eyes were a little darker.

"Yeah? I'll fit you just right."

Now guiding your hand to rest over his hard-on, you felt the entire length of him. He let you, of course, but still kept a distance probably in an attempt to tease you. It was bothersome.

So you took it upon yourself and kissed your way up to the corner of his lips, and he finally turned his head and swallowed your sigh in his mouth.

The kiss was wet and rough, maybe a little annoyed. Your tongue slid against his, and a flame pulsed to life in your lower belly. Goosebumps scattered your skin and you pressed your thighs together. 

You looked over your shoulder at his bedroom. It was so close it would take maybe a few big strides to be pushed back down onto his mattress. His tongue could be on your skin in under thirty seconds.

"If you're going to fit me so well, show me then.”

He nipped your bottom lip, "I will."

In a matter of seconds, the both of you stumbled into his room, making sure to close and lock the door behind you. Minho would probably be home soon so the two of you needed to be careful.

"Kiss me," he whispered and that was all it took for you to kiss him like every fiber of your being was dying, and he was your medicine. And oh did it feel like it, because suddenly, you were more alive. You felt stronger. You consumed him like a drug, inhaling and exhaling.

People made mistakes. They kissed the wrong people and pretended to be okay. They would do anything to distract their hearts, and they would do anything to deviate it from missing someone. 

Was that what you both were doing? Surely, that was the case...

There was no doubt that Jisung had this extraordinary energy about him that consumed and calmed you all at once. The way he dismantled your defenses and challenged you at every turn helped you to become a stronger and more passionate person. And despite your resistance to admitting it, you felt capable of anything around him and couldn't help but believe that he brought out your best self.

He brought out the best in you, and you didn't mean better manners, or a sense of maturity, or whatever else this tired world expected of you. You meant that he just made you want to climb roofs, run wild, and act inappropriately, take risks, and pursue your dreams with passion and integrity. 

Around him, you were living.

And to him, you were not just the two a.m. thoughts when he was alone in his bed. You were the three p.m. laughs when he was busy with his friends, the six p.m. dinner when he was in the kitchen, and the ten p.m. songs when he was writing new lyrics. You were always on his mind.

You were the most beautiful thing he’d ever felt, and he was convinced you’d remain the most beautiful thing he’d ever feel. Did you know how limiting that was? 

To think at such a ripe young age he’d experience the most exhilarating person he’d ever meet, and he’d spend the rest of his life just… settling. To think he tasted the most natural rawest form of sugar and everything else would be refined and synthetic. 

That nothing beyond this moment would add up. That all the years beyond him could not combine themselves to be sweeter than you.

He grabbed the back of your neck and then kissed you deeper and slower. He kissed you until your heartbeat continued to throb between your legs. A frenzy burned through your blood. 

You pressed your body to him, tracing your nails down his clothed stomach, and tugged at the belt loop of his pants. He made a rough sound in his throat, but his lips began to slow down against yours. 

When you realized he was pulling away, you moaned in frustration. 

His thumb brushed over your mouth. "Are you sure you're in love with Hwang Hyunjin?" His tone was ridiculing and teasing. 

"I am," you protested trying to close the distance between your lips again. 

You were surely acting like it, he wondered. He stifled a light laugh and you could feel the coolness of his breath against your face. “Then tell him.”

And it wasn't until later that night he regretted even bringing Hyunjin up. He was prepared for what was to come, but it still hurt.

The both of you lay in Jisung’s disheveled sheets, finally clothed again. 

"Jisung?" You voiced out, your fingers traced his arm lazily and you were trying to fight off the heavy slumber you felt dawn over you.

"Yeah?"

"Have you ever regretted it?" You asked.

He paused for a moment. “Regretted what?”

“You know… kissing me… sleeping with me. All of it.”

"Of course not," he stated. Even though he wasn't too sure what the truth wholly was. No matter how happy you made him, he believed that there would always be a part of him that kind of regretted everything. "Why would you even think that?" 

You shrugged and settled your head on his shoulder. "I—I’m not sure. I guess it’s just—" 

That night you let him see what made your world spin. And for you, those were your dreams. 

But not just any dreams—dreams about love and passion. You shared with him your words and your feelings. There were quotes, stories, and hopes. All the inner workings of your mind were captured in these dreams. Dreaming about the boy you loved was the only thing that kept you sane. 

You turned Hyunjin into a metaphor and thought of him as everything from a drug to a hurricane.

And there you laid, legs entangled, speaking about a boy that you loved again to another who struggled to cope with his own feelings. Your eyes glistened as you spoke of Hyunjin. You spoke about him like he would move mountains for you. 

But Jisung, he would've moved mountains for you too. You didn't know that though. You would never know that. Because as he gazed at the galaxies in your eyes like star watching was one of his favorite things to do, you were too lost in your thoughts of another to notice anything. 

You loved Hyunjin’s everything just like Jisung did—but with you. He guessed, the only difference was that he knew you wouldn't have chosen him.

So that night, you smiled and leaned on Jisung’s shoulder, half-clothed, as you told him your masterpiece. It was breathtaking. It was you—undeniably you. 

You giggled and turned to him and placed your finger against his lips—and all he could think about was what it would've felt like to have you say all these things about him. 

But then you said, "I want to tell him." Your voice was so quiet and he realized just how still the whole world felt as your breaths became the same.

His heart stopped. “Oh.” He didn't expect you to take to his advice from earlier. It happened in the heat of the moment and he wasn't thinking straight. It was a joke. And part of him began to hope that you were joking with him too, calling the whole thing off—to take it back right now. 

“Well,” he scratched the back of his head, “He better not be an idiot. I hope he knows he’s got something special.”

Jisung wouldn’t show it, and he really hoped you couldn’t tell either, but it felt like a ton of bricks were laid perfectly on top of his heart. 

You laughed weakly as you still felt tired. "It’s just—” You were stuck over how to ask him. “How do you know when it's over though? That it wouldn’t work out?"

Sleep crept up to your eyes and you closed them, letting them rest. “Just for a moment,” you told yourself. 

The boy beside you heard your breaths get heavier and gazed down to see that you had fallen asleep before he could even answer. 

A sad smile crept onto his lips and he softly pressed a kiss to your temple. 

"It's in the silence.”

The last dance practice for the semester had just come to an end and you were in between the idea of either throwing up your lunch or just running away forever. Neither seemed really plausible though considering you actually enjoyed your lunch and you had your last final tomorrow, so you needed to be present. 

Either way, you were nearly about to defy all things appropriate and dissipate with good reason, of course.

Confessing. You nearly struggled to breathe for a moment. It shouldn't be too hard. Hyunjin had to feel something for you, right? After all, you both had been through together—all the memories—he had to. 

Before, it sounded insane to even contemplate, but your mind otherwise convinced itself that something was definitely there. All the talks, laughs, glances across the rooms—something had to be there.

And as much as you wanted to call it bluff just so it wouldn't get your hopes up too much for when the truth came out, you couldn't bring yourself to do so. No matter how many times you fell into your thoughts, they all somehow reminded you about everything beautiful that came along with him—Hyunjin.

His soft skin, his scent, the crescents in his eyes that shined a bit too much it was almost blinding. He was endearing and captivating, and everything you had ever wanted. Surely, the most exquisite in human form. 

He had to feel the same.

You found yourself outside of the dance studio knowing who was waiting behind the door, and you shuttered at the thought of leaving the room either the happiest girl in the world or the saddest. 

You didn't want to sound too selfish, but you wanted him all to yourself. And it was with that desire, you felt the need to confess. 

Sure, your late-night conversation with Jisung somehow, someway, made you actually want to pursue it. A part of you was bluffing when you told him that you would do it—you were half asleep in fact. You were hoping for your friend to talk you out of it—out of the so-called crazy idea—but he didn't.

And now that you were separated from Hyunjin by only a door, you couldn't help but want to take the easy way out of it, which was simply just leaving.

But you were bound to tell him at some point, regardless of Jisung’s input—regardless of your nerves and lack of confidence.

Well, that’s what you liked to believe anyway. You just didn't expect it to be so soon.

You hesitantly opened the door, walking in to be greeted by the boy that you couldn't ever stop thinking about. Although practice had already concluded a while ago, he was still in the middle of the empty studio in the midst of practicing. You wanted to simply melt onto the ground as you locked eyes through the mirror. 

He was a symbol of your weakness.

He didn't have to do anything to make you fall for him, and you didn't fall for him because of what he could or couldn't do for you. You fell for him simply because he was unapologetically himself—you fell for him for everything he was and everything he was not. 

He was so perfectly flawed, but also perfectly himself. 

He turned around to face you, "Y/N?"

You were still by the door, scared to fully make your way into the room. "Hey..." Your eyes trailed him as he headed towards his bag.

"What are you doing here?" He grabbed a water bottle from inside. It gave you enough time to make your way to him, slowly, at your own pace. He took a long sip, parting from the bottle with a soft smile. “I thought you were studying for your exam.”

You exhaled lightly, letting out a breathy laugh. "Yeah, I was going to."

He placed the clear bottle back into his bag and peered over at you. Slightly knitting his eyebrows together, he refocused his attention back toward you. “Do you want me to help you?”

“Huh? No, no… that’s okay.”

“Are you sure? I’m just messing around in here before the studio closed for the semester but I can make some time—”

You shook your head, “Jinnie. I…” Your train of thought was faulted by the look in his eyes. He waited for you to finish but he distracted you. Was he aware of how you just couldn't speak anymore?

You just didn't understand how anybody could look the way that he did. He had the prettiest eyes and the warmest yet most killer stare. You wanted answers. You wanted him to take accountability for it—for everything. 

But quite frankly, you didn’t even think he would ever because he probably didn't know it.

"I... I just wanted to talk to you about something,” you finished quietly. 

Hyunjin grew quite curious and it was evident in the way his eyebrows softened at your tone. He nodded before sitting on the ground and patting the spot beside him for you to join him. You sat down, both of your bodies parallel to each other.

You sighed.

He wasn't sure what direction you were headed in. Something was clearly bothering you. Many thoughts flooded into his mind as he listed different possible explanations that could've left you this way. 

“Is everything okay?” 

"Do you know what you do to me?" You abruptly stated as the butterflies in your stomach began to erupt—so much that they could've lifted you up. 

He stopped his mind from wandering further and froze. This was what was happening? 

You shouldn't be doing this. 

"I get lost in your eyes, all the time actually—and whenever I hear your name I get tripped out so easily..." 

Were you making a fool out of yourself? You really didn't know. Your mouth was just moving on its own and you lacked control. 

"—And you'd always look into my eyes and show this wide grin. I always asked why you did it, but you’d shake your head and ignore the question." You tried your best to avoid his piercing eye contact. "Maybe that's why I fell for you."

You finally met his gaze but he broke it away almost immediately. That was when you felt your heart shatter into a million little pieces like a sheet of glass. 

You thought that somehow, someway, you were getting closer to the truth and knew it. You see, deep down, a part of you always knew that nothing would really happen between the both of you. You believed that maybe those types of things were only possible in a world you could only possibly dream of. 

Surely, Hyunjin seemed to just be the person of your dreams... so much so, you felt sorry that you fell. You were so sorry. Sorry that despite his refusal to look at you now, you still found his soul absolutely enchanting, fascinating, and breathtakingly beautiful.

It took him a minute before taking a deep sigh, "Y/N."

You always dreamt of all the moments you were never going to have. You guessed that this was just your way of dealing with the fact that he didn't want you—and he probably never will. And despite how badly you wanted him to reciprocate your feelings, what you both had was ruined. 

And so you came up with a separate reality in which everything was okay, where he was by your side and where he finally would fall.

Hyunjin wanted to tell you that he knew your favorite color and your favorite book and the way you’d always talk to yourself whenever you got annoyed. He wanted to tell you that he prided himself in the fact that he memorized the way your mouth would curve into a smile. 

He wanted to tell you that he would be there for you on the bad days too. He wanted to continue to hear you laugh and see your eyes glow in gold, just to know that you were happy.  

And he really wanted to tell you too that you had completely captivated him—but instead, he sympathetically looked at you, his eyes finally meeting yours once again.

He knew that you both couldn't be together because he was supposed to be in love with someone else, and well because, someone else had fallen for you too. 

Hyunjin noticed it for the first time a couple of months back that Jisung was in love with you. 

He nearly called himself stupid when he realized it. How could he have been so blind? So oblivious to everything. How could no one else realize that when you walked into the room, Jisung would suck in his breath at the very sight of you? 

There was that silence. The kind of silence Jisung spoke about. You weren’t too sure if you imagined him saying it but it didn't hurt any less.

"I-I’m sorry—I don't know why I just said that.” You were beginning to panic. 

He looked over at you, tracing every feature of your face like he had a million times before, and his heart began to beat to the rhythm of your short breaths. He turned away. “We can’t do this. I…”

This all could've been easily solved if he had brought himself to confess that he felt something for you. But he couldn't. 

It made sense to him—it all did. How you’d always admire him silently when he wasn't looking. He always saw something in your eyes when he did catch you staring though; a shine of wonder. 

If only you knew how much those little moments mattered to him too. 

But now you were left confused and heartbroken by the boy who always told you that you were amazing, but seemingly enough, wasn't good enough to commit to.

"We started this at a strange time in my life,” Hyunjin said softly. “I was broken and sad and in serious need of someone to listen. I was that guy that needed someone by his side to feel validated. And you were beautiful and charming and most importantly broken too.” 

You hated how you felt like shit and you hated how he looked at you—as if he felt bad for you. 

He sighed, “I didn't realize you were just as damaged as me when I met you. But that's why we clicked, wasn't it? I was messed up over a girl—over life—and you were the one constant that made me feel sane.”

Your breathing stilled. Messed up over a girl? Until it clicked. “Bora?”

He looked at you with concern, as if he never meant to hurt you the way that he did.

“I still love her Y/N.”

It was silent for a moment before your voice broke, "Still?”

Jisung hadn't told you? Hyunjin wondered to himself. He had expected Jisung to tell you about her the second she showed up that night at the club and also at the party.

You on the other hand wished you could rid yourself of the parts of you that beg for understanding. The parts of you that desire an answer to the question, “Why did you choose her over me?” Because there was no real answer. It was never about you. He simply chose to be with her. You were an innocent casualty. 

But still, you were always going to love him more, weren't you?

Words didn't seem easy anymore to Hyunjin. Everything he’d said and will continue to say would only worsen everything. “I—uh, I met her when I was away and I just… We just fell in love and—I’m sorry.” He felt ashamed.

“Why are you sorry?” You quickly refuted. “You can’t help how you feel.” You cleared your throat, shifting in your seated position. The boy beside you could tell how much the color drained from your cheeks. "It was my fault for getting attached to you," you said and your voice cracked, "both of us knew it wouldn't have worked out anyway.”

His heart stung. 

He wanted to tell you everything that you wanted to hear—to make you happy. To tell you that he felt the same way, unapologetically. But he couldn’t—not when he knew couldn't be the guy you needed him to be.

If he told you that, you would've told him that anything he did would've been enough and begged him to stay. To have him would make you throw away quite literally any sense of morality just because he was who he was, and you loved him because of that. 

Every day you woke up and thought about him, and you hated it. Why did you have to be the one to get so attached? It didn't seem fair.

And it wasn't right—Hyunjin knew that. So he wished that you’d become full of so much happiness that it healed every part of you. There was a whole world out there waiting for you. Great cities and art and music. Genuine beauty, and you could have it all, but without him. 

You guessed, deep down, you both were bound to end, and he would be the one to end it. You just kind of hoped that maybe he would have loved you too—enough to fight against it, you know? 

He pulled you into his chest and you didn't fight it. You were in the process of growing numb. "I care about you Y/N, I will always be here for you,” he assured you while gently running his fingers through your hair. 

Hyunjin was everything you needed, but you weren't that for him. You knew he cared about you, but you also knew that he didn't care enough to try. And yet, you didn't know which was worse.

You should have never texted him that one day that led into another and another and soon became a daily thing, morning and night, to text him and pray he would respond as fast as he did. 

You shouldn't have ever gotten your hopes up as high as you did when Jisung told you there was the slightest chance that Hyunjin was interested in you. You should have never kissed him back that night in the art room; it wouldn’t have led to even more hope. 

Then maybe it wouldn’t hurt this bad.

Hyunjin only wanted you when it was okay for him. You were the second option. You were his backup when he had nothing else to do. You were the one he’d give up for someone else. Easily replaceable. 

His second option.

But knowing this didn't change the fact that now when you pictured him and Bora together, you wondered why it was her instead of you; and when you thought of him holding her hand, you wondered why it was her instead of you; and when you imagined him kissing her lips, and touching her face, and lying in bed beside her at night, you wondered why it was her instead of you.

When you thought of the moment when he chose to share his life with her instead of you, you couldn't help but analyze your components, piece by piece, in an attempt to figure out which fault of yours led him to that choice.

You really wanted to be her. You so badly wanted to be her. 

Yet, tables tended to turn quite quickly on this Earth now that his presence was no longer on your plate, how bitter. And now you were left a mess wondering if you had ever meant anything to him at all.

Letting him hold you, you whispered something that confused him, "No, you don't care. But that's okay."

It didn't take too long for Jisung to get back home that night. 

You had locked yourself in your room for the rest of the evening, hearing Minho come and leave the apartment every so often. You were hurting so badly that you were even desperate enough to sacrifice Minho knowing everything, just so you could cry your heart out and be heard by someone. 

But that was easier said than done. If you had to tell Minho the entire story, it would have opened your wound even more. Plus, if you were being honest, he probably didn't even think that you were home to begin with. Usually, he’d call out for you or knock on your door, but he didn't.

So instead of bringing yourself to his attention, you rather continued to fester in the darkness of your room, trying your best to deal with everything alone. And you were attempting—like really, really trying to do it so you could push the thought of Hyunjin out of your mind. 

But with a knock at your bedroom door, everything was ruined.

You stayed silent for a few moments, looking at the dimly lit white-framed door. 

“Y/N.” Jisung muttered, lightly knocking once more. “What’s going on with you? I’ve been texting you all night.”

You weren't too sure of what to respond with. You hadn't been on your phone since everything happened and you were pretty sure it was still somewhere at the bottom of your school bag.

“I know you're in there, your sneakers are by the front door.”

Wiping your wet nose, you rolled your eyes. He was so stupidly annoying even at a time like this. He’d never let you rest over your damaged sneakers.

You stood from where you sat and walked over to unlock the door for him. As much as you wanted to be alone, there wasn't any reason to hide yourself from Jisung. Not like this—not anymore. He knew everything about you and he’d continue to do so, always.

When you opened the door, he immediately noticed your tear-stained cheeks and his heart dropped. Had you done it?

You tried your best to smile at him. "Hi, Sungie." 

It was so much easier to act like none of it mattered, and to pretend to wear a smile than to confess that your heart was broken from losing someone who was never even yours to begin with. 

But there didn't seem to be a reason to fake it in front of him. He deciphered everything about you within a matter of seconds. He didn't fall for your act and without a word, he engulfed you in a hug.

You didn't resist, instead, letting your body go limp as the boy hugged you. You didn't want to cry anymore, but the feeling of his arms around you made it so fucking hard. You were just so tired and drained.

The both of you stayed like that for what felt like minutes, his hands stroking up and down your back. As much as you were hurting during every moment of it, Jisung felt like his world was crashing down too. Seeing you like this, so quiet, so hidden—you didn’t deserve it.

"It's his loss," he hummed against you. 

Your heart fell for a moment. You lifted your head from against his chest and voiced your concerns quietly. “W-What?” 

He sighed, gently brushing the hair that stuck onto your forehead away. “Hyunjin. It’s his loss.” 

He wanted to tell you—to express to you that you deserved to be chosen undoubtedly over and over and over again—not merely considered. 

Seeing you like this did so much more to him than you could have ever imagined. 

But you wanted to tell Jisung that—to Hyunjin, he didn't lose anything. He just wasn't interested. It was as simple as that. He was good at making people believe that they were more important than they actually were.

Jisung was hesitant when asking, “What happened?” 

You tipped your chin back to look at him fully. “Nothing happened,” you admitted, eventually. You shoved aside your pride and felt the words scorching your tongue. “He just… didn't want me the way that I wanted him.”

You kept telling yourself that if Hyunjin wanted to talk to you—wanted to be with you, he would’ve. It’d only take a second of his time to text you, maybe even to tell you that he had made a mistake and loved you all this time. 

In all honestly, you were disappointed that he occupied your mind and that your heart still jumped whenever you thought about receiving a text or a call hoping that it was him. Simply hoping that he would tell you that he wanted you instead of her.

"And I think he knew," you continued after a while, "It just didn't matter enough for him to care."

Jisung was struggling to keep his composure against you when in reality, he really wanted to give Hyunjin the worst punch in the world for doing this to you. But what did he expect though? His friend had been seeing another girl this entire time, quite frankly, he should’ve told you about Bora to begin with. 

Was this all his own fault then?

He gently grabbed your hands, interlocking his fingers with your own. Your palms were warm—fingers so soft. It was something he always loved. 

He guided the both of you over to your bed to sit. “You know what I see?” For a few moments, he studied you, taking in your frayed tank top and bare legs.

You tilted your head, waiting for him to go on. The moonlight that peered into your room from the window dimly lit the carpet beside your bed. It gave you both just enough light to take in each other.

“I see a beautiful girl with an amazing heart and a corrupted mind,” he said.

Confusion marred your otherwise flawless features. 

He continued, “Thoughts and ideas damaged by broken promises and lies. I see a girl whose mind is constantly battling with her heart because her heart chooses to feel what her mind chooses to ignore.”

To Jisung, you deserved someone who loved you with every single beat of their heart, someone who thought about you constantly, someone who’d spend every minute of every day just wondering what you were doing, where you were, who you were with, and if you were okay. 

You needed someone who could help you reach your dreams and who could protect you from your fears. You needed someone who would treat you with respect, and love every part of you, especially your flaws. 

You should be with someone who could make you happy, really happy, dancing on air happy.

You paused for a short while, unable to figure out what to respond with. He was more than right—you weren't dumb. Your mind could tell wrong from right, but your heart struggled immensely to comprehend that. You really wished it did though. It would have made everything a hundred times easier.

Suddenly, the rain, which had been lightly falling all night, began to pick up in speed. You closed your eyes getting lost in the sound of it, the thought of the cold water against your skin spread peace throughout your body for a moment. 

One of Jisung’s hands remained interlocked with your fingers, and the other was caressed your bare thigh. He held you like you were his lifeline and he was scared to release you.

"You have to let it all go.” He traced his thumb over yours, still moving every so softly to keep your emotions at bay. “The way he kissed you, the way he smelled, the way he touched your waist and pulled you in. You have to try to let it go and you have to try to let him go."

“It’s not that easy, Jisung. I can’t just forget.”

You understood that love wasn't always flowers and chocolates. It wasn't always afternoon cuddles or laughing together at two in the morning. Sometimes it was crying and begging them to stay. 

Sometimes it was screaming at the wall because you heard something you didn't want to hear and a part of you just broke inside. Sometimes it was staying up all night, wondering why you weren't enough. Or it was sometimes self-doubting yourself because you wanted to know what she had that you didn't. 

“I know that,” he mumbled. “I know that it’s hard.”

You see as much as you thought you knew everything about the boy beside you, you didn't.

Jisung was aware that love was sometimes scrubbing your skin at four in the morning in the shower, trying to wash away their smell. Of course, it wasn't fucking easy. Love wasn't always romantic. It was painful and it would sometimes tear you apart.

To him, words were beautiful. To produce them, he allowed his fingers to move about in a rhythmic and rather therapeutic manner. Those movements then delivered his thoughts and emotions into the minds of human beings who couldn't be reached by the sound of his voice. 

He thought it was time for him to start understanding that you were now just one of those people that was out of his reach. He wanted to ask you what it felt like to be told you were perfect in every way and will always be taken care of. 

He wanted to convey the emotions that ripped through someone like himself. He wanted to express the hope and loyalty that was instilled inside him—the kind that was built up wall after wall, only to feel as though they were peacefully torn down by someone like you, who pulled him deeper into your love. 

“I know that it’s hard, Y/N,” he repeated, “and you’re right, it’s hard to forget.” 

You nodded, “If I could I woul—”

He cut you off. “But I just can't do it.” He bursted out, his eyes suddenly began to fill to the brim with tears. 

Your eyes widened at the sight, taken off guard by his abrupt tone and reaction. “What?” 

He shook his head and looked up to keep himself from looking at you. “I just can't watch you love him like that.” 

“Like what?” You asked, cupping his face so he could meet your eyes. You traced in his dark orbs, hoping to quickly find an answer to his unexpected outburst. “What are you talking about?”

Jisung knew you would never look at him the way you did Hyunjin. He felt like he was being selfish with his emotions now.

“Like he’s everything you ever wanted.”

And suddenly now, while you both stared at each other at that very second, he couldn't take it anymore. He wanted more, he wanted more than just looks and brushes of arms and legs and the stupid endless teasing and meaningless fucking on your end. 

He wanted to taste your lips and your neck and everything, again, like always. But this time, he wanted to pull you in and never let you go.

"I'm in love with you," he blurted out. "I’ve been for all my life, actually, but you've never noticed because you never paid attention."

Your heart dropped nearly twenty stories and you felt lightheaded. He could feel your body tense up as you sat still, slowly struggling to breathe properly. 

"I have never loved anyone as I love you." He continued, confessing. Was there a chance you could believe him this time? "I can't put it into words—there are none that come close to expressing how I feel."

You shook your head, loosening your grip against his palm and removing his hand from your leg. “Jisung, stop it. You don’t love me—”

This had to be a joke. Just like when he said it before on the rooftop—yeah, that's what it was. He saw you in your emotional state and thought this would be a funny prank to get you to laugh, right? You were still very upset from earlier so he should've expected you to not—hmm, maybe if he pulled this stunt again next week, you would’ve cracked a laugh from it.

Your mind was very convincing to you.

“I love you!” He shouted, the impact of his words lost on you. 

“Be fucking for real.” You still weren't taking him seriously. “This isn't funny.”

“Funny? I have loved you since the day I met you, and since then, you’ve been driving me crazy Y/N. My thoughts can't fucking move without constantly being drawn back to you.” Hand-dropping, his voice cracked as he continued. “You’re it.” 

You were his world. But he wasn't yours, and he would never be.

He proceeded to pour his heart out, unable to realize what damage he was creating while doing so. "It’s you. It’s always been you.” 

He was so vulnerable, and you tried your best to understand how suddenly, in a matter of seconds, his heart was in your hands. 

“I can’t describe it anymore, it is you. You are the only one that I will ever want. I belong with you. You are my home. I look at you, and somehow I can see us fifty years from now on the front porch of some old house in the middle of nowhere and we're together.”  

You stayed silent as everything ever good in your life came crashing down on you. This didn't sound like a joke anymore. And suddenly, just by searching his dark eyes from where you sat, the countless times he tried to express to you of his endless love began to show. Each time he poured his heart out to you, you never noticed. 

He paused to take a breath. “And as pathetic as it sounds, I need you. You are the only thing that matters to me. You are my only constant. You are my good."

“No, no, no. You must be confused.” You shook your head for what seemed like forever. “Please just talk to me tomorrow—”

You attempted to stand up in an attempt to open your door so he could leave but he grabbed your arm. “What?” His voice broke. You were starting to make him feel like a crazy person.

You sat back on your bed with broken stars in your eyes and burnt promises on your tongue, and you told him after a brief pause, “Jisung, you and I both know that your life would be so much easier without me.” 

He continued to sit by your side, taking your hand into his like before. He was close enough that your arms and hips and legs still touched and he said, “But not better.”

By now, your eyes were looking around at everything except his. In some measure, you wanted to cut open his mind and let yourself into the secret world he had created just for you, but, you were scared of what you would find. 

This wasn't what you had expected. It wasn't anything you could have ever imagined. Because he tried to be poetic in the way that he loved you, but it was so passionate he couldn't string words together in any way that made sense to you.

So there it was; the silence.

You wanted to speak—to answer—but words couldn't formulate your emotions the same way he couldn't describe the way it felt to have his heart ripped to pieces.

During the haunting stillness, Jisung finally figured out why it hurt so much. He was stuck in limbo, the liminal space between what you both were and whatever came next. It wasn't good for either of you.

Sure, he attempted to move on after listening to Chan’s advice but he couldn’t. It took him days of staring at the ceiling at four in the morning and numerous discussions with himself before he woke up one morning and decided that he wanted you still.

However, he knew, logically, that what you both had was done now; your silence is more than enough proof.

But he couldn't help but wonder if this time, the silence—your silence—fostered hope, that small "what-if" in the back of his mind. And even the smallest glimpse of hope was enough to keep him here in front of you, trapped in this uncertainty.

Despite how bewildered you still were, you gingerly pushed the fallen strands of hair from his eyes. He was still your best friend. Of course, you loved him. You’d always love him. 

And he was aware that he had always been just your boy friend you’d come to whenever you needed sympathy or company. Not your boyfriend, but your friend that was a boy.

“I just—I just don't deserve you,” you finally whispered. 

Of course, in a sense, he did deserve so, so much better, but all he wanted was you. He knew that he should have refrained from doing anything with you. He was doing just fine before… everything—before you came back into his life as the person he loved. 

Because loving you now was just so fucking destroying.

He opened his mouth to tell you what you didn't want to hear, but you shook your head, not letting him speak. 

Tears burned your eyes, “No, Jisung. I don't. You're so amazing and caring and someone like me doesn't deserve someone like you,” you assured him, his grip tightened around your hand. 

Please, don’t do this.

He was too pure and too sweet to love you.

Nevertheless, he wanted you to know everything. That he’d still love you through every emotional part of the roller coaster you had brought into his life. He loved you on the days that you were pleasant and kind and also on the days you were unrecognizable to him. 

He loved you through changing circumstances and the rapid movement of time. He was loving you now, even when you decided that you didn't love him. 

"I don't care," he said and he didn’t. He brought himself closer to your lips. "Do you even know?" He drew back for an instant, his eyebrows knit together. "Do you know what it's like around you? I can't..." He ran one hand through his hair and stared at you. "I can't breathe whenever you're around."

He was just so deeply in love with you, but you never cared to notice. You always cared about another boy, and not the one that mattered. He loved you so much and you took it for granted. You always went crying to him about your problems, and the boy beside you always lit himself on fire to keep you warm. 

And judging by the way you treated him, it was only a matter of time before his flame went out.

“Why didn't you tell me before?” You asked him, your eyes darted wildly across his although your vision was more than blurry by now. “You were my best friend.” 

His lips and hands shook at the sound of the cold rain pounding against your window, and his stomach turned because, at once, he struggled to find air to breathe. 

What was he supposed to tell you? That you weren't just a best friend to him? That his soul ached for you every time he wasn't busy talking? That he couldn't bear to hear you talk about him in a way that got his hopes up? 

Or was it that he couldn't watch you love Hyunjin the way you were supposed to love him?

“I couldn't bring myself to tell you,” he resulted in saying.

“Why? Because of who—Hyunjin?” You searched for an understanding. It took him a while before he nodded hesitantly at your question, afraid of how you’d take it. “But this goes way farther back than Hyunjin. You had so many years to tell me—to be honest with me.”

It was easier then. 

Before, Jisung hadn't touched you, he hadn't kissed you, he hadn't done nearly enough stuff with you. It was completely different now and he didn't think you understood that.

“I know but—”

 “Do you even know what Hyunjin said?” You continued to ask, cutting him off.

Suddenly it felt like a crime to look into your gaze. Jisung was avoiding it like a plague.

“This entire time, he had been in love with another girl,” you confessed, wincing as you relived yourself swallowing the biggest pill ever imaginable. It cut your throat and nearly made you bleed out. You couldn't believe what you were saying. 

“Bora?” His eyes finally snapped over to yours, widening. “H-He told you about her?”

You nodded, feeling the tears you’d been failing to desperately keep in, continue to roll down. “Yes, and I was so stupid and blind and I just wanted to cry and cry and cry—so I just need you to tell me the truth,” you sobbed. “I can’t do this anymore.”

You didn't want secrets anymore. You couldn't even begin to understand how your best friend had been in love with you for so many years. It didn't seem real. You didn't want to accept it.

But somehow, someway, you both were in love, he was so sure of it.

It hadn't been processed to you yet that Jisung had said the girl's name—Bora—ever so immediately as he did. You didn't think much about it until you could see the look of shame wash down on his face.

He had been keeping the information between Hyunjin and Bora from you for how long? It was pitiful and downright unacceptable considering you were his best friend. How could he tell you now?

But you wanted honesty, right? You wanted to know everything.

“If you want to know the truth,” he still couldn't even look at you anymore, “I’ve known about their… situation.”

He could hear the breath you sucked in quietly. You shook your head, unable to wrap your mind around his confession. “No, you didn't.”

Please, please, please. This couldn't be true. Please.

“Yes—”

“No. You didn't know Jisung. You couldn't have known.” You were still so adamant about not believing him. None of this was supposed to happen. He didn't know—there was no way he had known about Hyunjin and Bora this entire time. “You also can't love me, it’s not possible.”

He grabbed your chin, holding you firmly, and stared into your vacant eyes. “Please, why are you doing this? Why don’t you believe me?” He whispered to you like two children shading a secret.

You pushed his hand away, standing up from where you were sitting. “You didn't fucking make me look stupid for all these months—you didn't make me look stupid for all these years. Jisung, tell me that you didn't.” You began to break down.

You both were in love, he was so sure of it. 

“I couldn't help it. I couldn't help it, I'm sorry.” He couldn't even begin to express the guilt and the pain he was experiencing. He didn't even dare to value them either. You were all he could see. 

This was when he realized that this was a mistake.

He stood and attempted to hold your hand again, to which you took a step back. He wanted it to go back to how it was. “Please understand that I was in pain,” the words were now being pulled up from his throat like a clown’s handkerchief trick, but he was choking, “I never meant to ruin things. I never meant to ruin us.”

Part of you wanted to forgive him. You were so heartbroken because you not only lost the boy you loved earlier, but also your best friend tonight.

You knew that Jisung wasn't a selfish person, and he probably had his reasons. You wanted to see the brighter side of everything but you couldn't. Not now anyway. Not when he had told you his true feelings that he had kept a secret for so long. 

It felt as if your whole life with him had been a lie.

But he was your best friend and even if you tried with all your heart, you could never fully hate him. So the other part of you wanted to tell him that you loved him back so badly, even if it wasn't the truth. You wanted to tell this boy who you knew would give you the world if you asked, that his feelings were reciprocated, but they weren't. 

You believed that maybe could’ve been, though. They could’ve been if you weren't so hung up on someone that didn't love you. 

And you wanted to tell him that, but you thought it would’ve hurt even more.

You finally took the first step closer to him to hold his hand, just as he tried before. It was what he wanted right? He let you.

It was funny how something that should’ve felt so good could feel so bad when the circumstances weren't right. And your circumstances were definitely not right. But you squeezed his hand anyway, letting him know that you were feeling exactly what he was feeling, and you were just as torn as he was. 

Jisung dropped his forehead against yours, your eyes closing while you both just silently breathed through whatever this moment was. You could feel everything he was not saying. 

You could even somehow feel the kiss he wasn't giving you. But if you both slipped back into the moment you shared last night or even the night before, it would’ve ripped his wound open even wider, until that was all he was. 

And as much as he wanted to deny it, he knew just as much as you did that this wasn't a good idea.

So Jisung stood there, defeated, trying to break the silence, but secretly afraid that if he stayed he’d only break everything more.

With your features blurring past his closed eyes, just like how he had memorized you his entire life, he breathed out. “I’m sorry—I don't think I was supposed to tell you any of that.”

let me know your thoughts about this chapter! i’m interested to hear your opinions :) stay healthy <3

masterlist

taglist: (pls lmk if i missed you or if ur interested!)

@hyynee @keilykat @sikebishes @soobin-chois​ ​ @chxrry-chris @0x1lovesong1 @drhsthl @rindomo @ooshanaya

#stray kids #skz #skz han jisung #skz fanfic #skz imagines #han jisung #han jisung fanfic #han jisung smut #han jisung imagines #han jisung x reader #hyunjin fanfic #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin imagines #series #chapter four

[sweetsungie]

I dont think ive ever been as invested in a fanfic, im so invested in your Jisung fic

thank u!! 💗 i hope u look out for more :)

[sweetsungie]

hi guyssss! so i just have one more final tmrw and then i’m done!!! sorry for the long wait for chapter 4 🥲 hopefully will be posted by friday 💗

[sweetsungie]

Your hanji fic is satisfying all my angst cravings i luvvv

oop 🤭

[sweetsungie]

mwahhhh 🫶

Do you think you’ll actually continue to finish the hanji story you have going on ? i don’t want to get attached if you won’t continue LOL

yes ofc! it’s only been a week since last update! 😂💓 i‘ve just been having final exams/projects this week so school has been really busy! don’t worry!! :)

[sweetsungie]

Do you think you’ll actually continue to finish the hanji story you have going on ? i don’t want to get attached if you won’t continue LOL

yes ofc! it’s only been a week since last update! 😂💓 i‘ve just been having final exams/projects this week so school has been really busy! don’t worry!! :)

[sweetsungie]

I love your jisung series so much i literally cant stop thinking about it, its just so good!!!!!!!!!!

thank u!!! 💓

[sweetsungie]

tysm 🥹🫶

the silence between two special songs | h.j

pairing: souncloud! jisung x reader (ft. dancer! hyunjin)

genre: college au, childhood friends to lovers, fluff, angst, mature content, fwb, mutual pining, unrequited love, rapper jisung, english major reader

fic type: mini series

status: ongoing

synopsis:

falling in love with someone was one of the best and worst things a person could do. you’d remember the first time your heart skipped a beat at the sound of their voice and how perfectly their lips fit into yours. you’d remember how they encapsulated every single fiber being within you that you could no longer breathe when you were around them; likewise, you didn’t want to.

you’d remember all the good things about them.

but then you’d remember the first time it ached knowing that they cared about you, but not enough. how they loved you, but not the way you wanted them to.

not the way you wanted hyunjin to.

and not the way jisung wanted you to.

•°. *࿐

please note: all works are fiction. they do not in any way represent the real person. these are fictional characters.

this is intended for an 18+ audience and will contain mature themes and language. please do not interact if you aren’t interested!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

comment to be a part of the taglist!

series playlist

Continuar lendo

[sweetsungie]

i binge read your hanji fic and i haven’t stopped crying for an hour

😭😭 noooooooo

[sweetsungie]

dass so weird whaaa😂😂 hopefully it fixed itself now !! but tysm for ur kind words it’s always nice to hear them <333 ilysm!!

the silence between two special songs | h.j

pairing: souncloud! jisung x reader (ft. dancer! hyunjin)

genre: college au, childhood friends to lovers, fluff, angst, mature content, fwb, mutual pining, unrequited love, rapper jisung, english major reader

fic type: mini series

status: ongoing

synopsis:

falling in love with someone was one of the best and worst things a person could do. you’d remember the first time your heart skipped a beat at the sound of their voice and how perfectly their lips fit into yours. you’d remember how they encapsulated every single fiber being within you that you could no longer breathe when you were around them; likewise, you didn’t want to.

you’d remember all the good things about them.

but then you’d remember the first time it ached knowing that they cared about you, but not enough. how they loved you, but not the way you wanted them to.

not the way you wanted hyunjin to.

and not the way jisung wanted you to.

•°. *࿐

please note: all works are fiction. they do not in any way represent the real person. these are fictional characters.

this is intended for an 18+ audience and will contain mature themes and language. please do not engage if you aren’t interested!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

comment to be a part of the taglist!

series playlist

Keep reading

[sweetsungie]

🌃🌙

[sweetsungie]

the whole emotional turmoil in part 3 i love it😂

ahaha our poor hanji :')

#protectjisungsheart

[sweetsungie]

I just finished both the part 1 and 2 of your Jisung fic and the endings of both are like so good!! Like I can literally imagine it like its a movie and I know its Jisung fic and I love their relationship and im sooo excited for how it develops, but i also love how you portray her feelings towards Hyunjin too, and even his characterization is mwah, i want keep rambling on about how much i love this to anyone who will listen❣️

omg stop!!!! i could listen to you for hours <3 thank u for the compliments and your thoughts! i’m so glad that i’m able to portray the characters in a way that’s meaningful and expressive :’) part three was just posted too hehe so enjoy 💗💗💗

[sweetsungie]

the silence between two special songs | h.j | part 3

pairing: souncloud! jisung x reader (ft. dancer! hyunjin)

genre: college au, childhood friends to lovers, fluff, angst, mature content, fwb, mutual pining, unrequited love, rapper jisung, english major reader

series: the silence between two special songs

word count: 20k

warnings: cursing, fluff, lotssss of angst, drinking, making out, jealousy, protected sex, oral (f. receiving), pet names, sad love story, y/n is oblivious and makes you want to just (!!), hyunjin playboy era?? 

synopsis:

falling in love with someone was one of the best and worst things a person could do. you'd remember the first time your heart skipped a beat at the sound of their voice and how perfectly their lips fit into yours. you'd remember how they encapsulated every single fiber being within you that you could no longer breathe when you were around them; likewise, you didn't want to.

you'd remember all the good things about them.

but then you'd remember the first time it ached knowing that they cared about you, but not enough. how they loved you, but not the way you wanted them to.

not the way you wanted hyunjin to.

and not the way jisung wanted you to.

•°. *࿐

a/n: bye i’m sorry this came out so late… i procrastinated so much it’s embarrassing!!!! anyways i hope you guys still enjoy this chapter, things get a little sad and steamy and ugh i just wish the best for our hanji <3 also!! pls listen to the series playlist as well for ultimate feels :)

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

comment to be a part of the taglist <3

masterlist

series playlist

JISUNG’S INTERLUDE:

“I've held back for so long, I don't think I can do this…

I pulled together my courage and took another step toward you, just this one step was too hard. It took me a while to do it even after making up my mind.

Did I take too long? Did it all fall back on me because the timing wasn't right? 

What I did hoping to get closer to you is what built up this wall that's keeping me from you. 

It's ridiculous.

I hate myself, I hate you. I don't know who to blame, so all I'm left with is a grudge. 

I tried to break down that wall, but all that broke was my own heart. I tried to pull my heart together and lost something more important—You.

I’m sorry, I love you.”

Your bedroom felt warm, but it was cold outside. You could tell because of the foggy windows. 

You thought about it for a minute. There were things you knew but couldn't feel and there were things you could feel but didn't know how to explain. How did you get to this point?

The days did not seem special anymore: summer’s refusal to perform brought about the mischief of winter and this meticulous aftertaste was something that you had to grow to accept.

“But you loved the percussion of the summer breeze: the searing golden hues, and the warm underfoot.” The season had all the hallmarks of two lovers fighting under the glare of a subdued sun, winding up nature's orchestra into a barren landscape, just because it was fitting to do so. 

And well, no season before had ever stopped them, not spring, winter, or fall.

That was all over now, and it was only after meeting the rock that crashed through your window, you realized how love can disintegrate at a different rate from when it did implode.

felix: sorry i’m late! i’m outside :D

Earlier in the week, you had fallen with a light cold preventing you from attending class or any other place that was open to interacting with people. 

It wasn’t anything serious so by today you woke up completely healed, meaning you were able to continue life as normal. But if you were being honest, you skipped all your classes again and planned on skipping practice too, noting to come up with a lame excuse later for Minho.

And your plan was going as planned, you’d even ordered some food from your favorite restaurant. Despite your limited human interaction throughout this break, you thoroughly enjoyed your alone time. 

That was… until Felix begged you to go to practice. 

Now, as someone as resilient as you, even you could admit that it was always hard to refuse Felix. He was always just so bright and cheerful, just about everything you wanted to be. So how could you ever say no?

You attempted to bring up Hyunjin as a possible candidate to accompany him, but you were quick to remember that he had gone home for break already, which meant you needed to suck it up and go yourself.

You slipped on your shoes and grabbed your bag, making your way outside. Gosh, it was really cold today. 

The wind was blowing, making it much colder than it was supposed to be. Maybe you really should’ve skipped practice. It would've been much easier than hitchhiking through campus in the dry cold. 

You hoped Felix’s happiness would be worth it in the end.

Tracing the courtyard, you spotted him… but then, your eyes traveled even further until they found Hyunjin. What was he doing here? Now you really wished you skipped practice. 

Although you were feeling better with a hearty immune system, you still felt like a complete mess, and probably looked like one too.

But there he was, his hands shoved in the pockets of his puffer, beanie on, as he laughed at whatever Felix said. He looked beautiful without even trying.

“Y/N! Over here!” Felix called out once seeing you. 

You see, you didn't expect anybody else to tag along with the both of you—especially not Hyunjin. He was supposed to be going home for break earlier than the rest of you, spending time with his family—well this was according to what he told you sometime last week. 

Maybe something had come up. You really wouldn't have known, you barely spoke to him all week to even have a clue.

Walking over to the boys, you waved, “Hey.” 

Your eyes fell on Hyunjin briefly, and he greeted you with a smile that suddenly went against the cold wind that hit your face. This past week had been awfully hard. You couldn't see him or touch him—or quite literally do anything you wanted to do. 

Sure, both you and Hyunjin had texted a few times throughout, but it quickly died down once you both realized that there just wasn't anything to talk about. The day went on, just as did every other day and the hours ticked by as the shades of the sky grew darker.

So when you saw Hyunjin and saw that all he did was smile and wave, you frowned to yourself. 

Of course, you both weren't together—you knew that. In fact, you hadn't even discussed the kiss. He hadn't brought it up and you were too afraid that you would've ended up confessing quite literally everything you felt, scaring him away. 

But somehow you still hoped he’d be more excited to see you.

Felix's voice invaded your thoughts. “Let’s go before we’re late.” 

The three of you began your walk toward the dance studio, fueling yourselves with conversations about anything and everything you could think of. Felix was great at talking, leading, and guiding, it reminded you of how much you missed hanging out with him.

You were surprised he was able to make it to practice today to begin with. He’d been getting busier with theatre so you didn’t have the opportunity to see him that much. You could count the number of times he actually showed up to the dance studio.

Felix’s phone rang and he answered it, separating himself from the current conversation about what your winter break plans were. Soon after he did so, Hyunjin glanced over at you waiting for you to continue.

“I don't really have anything planned,” you confessed. “I’m probably going to just read and watch movies—I don't know… Not really interesting.” You felt utterly and completely boring.

Hyunjin always spoke to you gently, “Reading and watching movies sounds perfectly interesting to me, Y/N.” You couldn't help but focus on your heartbeat that suddenly grew, beating—no, pounding twice as fast. He proceeded to talk about what he had planned with his family once he went back home later this week. 

His existence seemed to be full of life and passion when he spoke, and you couldn't help but feel envious of it. You wished that could be you too.

“Are you feeling better?” He continued to shatter your expectations by being kind and compassionate. 

Suddenly, you had to shy away from the emotions in his gaze, because your heart was already a tight fist in your chest. It was constricting it so much that it was like you were wearing a corset. 

You couldn't breathe under the heaviness of his gaze.

The world needed people like him. People who cared, who: allowed vulnerability into their lives, who didn't run at the first sign of complexity, who invested time and effort into what they wanted, who were tolerant and open-minded, welcoming and caring. People who were soft with a fierce heart. The world needed him. 

Everyone hoped to be him.

Felix had somehow managed to create distance between the both of you, still lost within his own conversation with whoever it was on the other line.

You swallowed, “Yeah, all better now.” He nodded to himself, happy to hear that your cold had subsided. 

A few moments passed before he spoke again, accidentally cutting you off.

“I’m sorry!” He laughed, apologizing. He had the most beautiful eyes and couldn't remember not ever looking at them when you were with him. The gold specks in them deepened when he laughed and when he looked at you they just shined.

You waved a hand, “No, it's okay! What were you going to say?”

A smile never left his face, “It’s just that I heard that there was something going on at Chan’s and Changbin’s before break. Monday, I think?”

Your hands accidentally brushed against his as you both continued to walk, and you felt like you were alive again by simple contact. “Oh, I didn't hear about it…”

His eyebrows rose, surprised. “I thought Jisung would've told you,” he stated, flickering his eyes down at your innocent hands for a second before holding it gently. “Sorry, your hand must be freezing.”

No... Your mind was busy running around, doing laps and laps. His hand was soft, too warm and you wanted to stay here forever. “Are you going?” You mustered to ask.

You were falling to pieces by his touch. Your fists were full of unlucky pennies and your heart was a jukebox demanding a few nickels. Your head was flipping quarters, heads or tails, heads or tails, heads or tails, heads or tails.

He nodded and you raised an eyebrow, confused. “I thought you were going home early?” You questioned.

“I decided to leave on Tuesday.”

“So you’re not going home now because of a party?” You clarified, your tone accidentally coming out to be much more belittling than you intended. 

He thought about it for a few moments, awkwardly laughing. “It sounds bad when you say it like that…” He was having a hard time trying to express himself in a way that didn't make it seem like he was just throwing his family time under the bus for some stupid, lame party.

For him, he found this party to be a perfect time to rekindle his friendships. The semester was almost finished but he found himself still struggling to find his place within a group. 

Before coming back, he knew that it was going to be different—an entire year had passed. People changed, lives developed, and things just weren't the same anymore. He knew that.

But, Hyunjin never expected it to take this long.

You quickly shook your head, not wanting him to misunderstand. “I didn't mean it like that, Jinnie! It’s just… it doesn't seem like you, that's all.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Of course not! I—” You stopped yourself, not wanting to dig yourself deeper in the hole you were already in. It was his decision, he could do whatever he wanted. It really didn't concern you. 

"You know your voice can literally make flowers grow," you stated, taking out an earbud. 

It was a Sunday evening and you were lying sprawled out on Jisung’s bed. To your surprise, the weekend consisted of nothing of substance and you remembered what that felt like after weeks to be utterly plan-less as if you hadn't dealt with it constantly before.

You felt crazy. Part of you hoped that on Friday, Hyunjin would have asked you to hang out this weekend, and when he didn't, you assumed in him asking you Saturday. Pitifully so, you spent the entire day in your empty apartment, your roommates coming in and out whenever they pleased. 

The realization that you were being quite pathetic didn't hit you until you woke up from your nap on the couch, to the sound of Jisung walking in at three in the morning. And it wasn't until you laid your head against your satin pillowcase later that night you classified yourself as insane. 

If Hyunjin texted you to see him in the middle of the night, you would’ve ran—no matter the hour. To you, anything last minute was never last minute with him.

But by the next morning, you’d figured that it would be best to stop moping around and actually get some work done. You had wasted away all weekend that even thinking of falling into the habit again made you grow sick. Self-restraint was hard but it was necessary. 

So instead of waiting for a text or call, you trapped yourself in Jisung’s room forcing yourself to not think of anything considered Hwang Hyunjin—and it worked. It worked until you realized the book he had given you was in your hands in the process of being read. In fact, you had been reading it all day. Maybe there truly was no escape. 

Although you spent most of your day in your best friend’s room, reading the now-forbidden book, Jisung’s presence was a great distraction from the constant reminders. 

He was busy himself. His headphones were on and his laptop was open, displaying his usual applications. His eyes were glued onto his screen as he worked on a song, full-focus. Yet, still, he never failed to keep up with conversation whenever you wanted.

In fact, he love the way you’d lie in his bed reading your book, unbothered and forgetting you’d spoken to him. You’d shoo him away because you hit a good part. He’d brush off your gruff attitude with a smile and continue his work.

“Oh, shut up.” Jisung’s cheeks turned into a brighter shade of pink. He shook his head humbly and retrieved the earbud from your hand. 

You playfully rolled your eyes, “I’ll never ever shut up, Sungie.” Both of you knew it was the truth. It just wasn't plausible.

"You really must have liked it then, huh?" He laughed, unscrewing the cap of his water bottle to take a sip. His throat suddenly fell dry at your compliment.

You nodded almost a million times and he found you to be so incredibly adorable doing so. It took a lot for him to not grab you and pull you closer. 

He had only shown you only a snippet, roughly about fifteen seconds, of the ballad he was working on. And although it wasn't done, he spent a lot of time on the track—more than he expected; he struggled to keep his creativity flowing due to how cloudy his mind had gotten recently.

You were definitely to blame for that. But when your compliments left your mouth like the symphony he never knew he craved, he could've sworn he had perfect pitch. It made no sense to fault you. In fact, he would've taken all responsibility over and over again before you could.

Practicing his self-restraint like always, he opted in fiddling with the faded Rubix cube on his desk. He was growing to become restless. "Good, because you're my girl. I want you to genuinely like it." 

You studied him for a few moments suspiciously, an amused smile growing on your lips. His tone seemed much more serious than he had intended and it caught you off guard.

He felt your stare and briefly looked up. “Stop, you are starting to make me self-conscious over how I speak.” 

Shrugging, you shook your head. “Don't be. It's cute in a way.” He felt blood rush through his cheeks. Was that a bad thing? You noticed his sudden fluster and scoffed lightheartedly, “Relax Sungie. It’s a good look on you.” 

“It's cute, you say…" He set the Rubix cube down and closed his laptop to join you on his bed. He leaned closer to you, and you pushed him to the side, making a face at him.

"Oh, don't pretend as if you haven't ever been told that you're cute.”

He had been sitting at his desk for hours upon hours and all he wanted to do was stretch all his limbs and muscles out—and that’s what he did. With a satisfying groan, he finished. "No, never," he lied, pleased by the direction of the conversation.

You suppressed a giggle, “You’re so stupid.” He leaned in again, this time to place his head on your open lap. You didn't push him away this time around.

"No, I’m so cute," he teased, grinning. The hands that formerly held your forbidden book now began to play with his hair. “...and so fucking tired.” He closed his eyes, instantly feeling encapsulated by the warmth of your touch. 

One thing he’d never get tired of besides your face was how your fingers moved.

"Who told you to write a song until three a.m. in the morning?" You pondered for a moment although already knowing the answer, "Oh wait. You did."

“Trust me, one look at you made me realize that I'd spend far too much time trying to write a song as beautiful as you.” He lay silent, eyes still closed. It was best he didn't continue in that direction.

He sighed, unknowingly, against your thigh. Feelings never did make sense. They’d get you all confused, then they drive you around for hours before they drop you right back where you started. 

Beginning to trace small circles on your bare skin, he decided to change the subject. "How's the book going along?"

“It’s… going.”

He opened an eye, quizically. “What does that mean?”

You shrugged, unable to correctly express your feelings. How you constantly thought about Hyunjin this weekend because you missed him. You had seen him on Friday but still, you missed his laugh, his eyes, his touch, his lips. You missed quite literally everything.

“I’m not too sure,” you answered quietly as shame washed over you.

He tutted, “You see? I knew I hated that book for a reason.” He closed his eyes once more. “It’s best you stop reading—Fuck Y/N, you’re about to make me pass out, seriously.” Peaceful bliss washed over him as you continued to run your fingers through his hair.

You laughed and halted your actions which made him groan needly. “The book itself is fine Jisung. It’s just…”

Concluding that you weren't going to continue the head rubs, he turned his head over to properly look at you. “Is it Hyunjin?” He sighed concerningly.

“I’ve been trying to avoid thinking about him.” You frowned at your words, unable to fully believe that you were telling the truth yourself. 

Frankly, Jisung was confused as hell. Not sure why you wanted to avoid the boy that you absolutely adored and loved. “And why would you want to do that?”

Words just didn't make sense to you anymore. “I don't know. He's just... I don't know. I don’t think he’s thinking of me like I do.”

At that moment, Jisung wanted to exclaim, “Hi, hello! Yes, I’m here! I may not be the tall boy with the long hair and pretty face, but I thought about you every fucking day. Does that count?”

Because it was true, he thought about you every single day. 

Everything he did always traced back to you. Scrolling through his feed, "Wow she would love that" or seeing a place so familiar that it reminded him of you. Both funny and sentimental. It was such a bittersweet feeling. It was strange being able to love someone who cared for him so little in the way he wanted. 

He wondered if you thought the way he did. Of course not about him, but about Hyunjin. Jisung wasn't naive enough anymore to think he could ever be a part of the equation. 

He was just curious—curious to know if the reminders and happy memories that raced through your mind every time you saw Hyunjin’s face or heard his endearing voice, affected you the same way you affected him. 

Had you wondered if what the both of you had together was real, too? Was it something to you at all? Did you feel what he felt? Or was he the only one thinking somehow that you and he would last a lifetime in the end?

Maybe you didn't think that way with Hyunjin, or maybe you did. He honestly didn't know and he didn't want to bother himself to learn. 

All Jisung knew was that he was jealous of the way you weren't thinking this way with him.

“We can stop talking about it, you know?” You spoke up breaking the silence that stilled in the room. Jisung’s eyes grew bigger, puzzled on where you were headed with the conversation. “I can tell when you're uncomfortable. I mean… I get it, Ji. I never spoke to you about my ‘boy problems’ before so please tell me when to stop. This is all new to me, so I can’t really tell.”

You were just so damn perfect. Everything about you was perfect. You knew him better than anyone else. You knew when he was sad or annoyed and how to cheer him up—and you always managed to cheer him up. You’d always write him paragraphs just because you wanted to and because well, with writing skills like yours, you were so good at it. 

“No, no. It’s okay. Please don’t stop.”

It couldn't get any more perfect than that. Waking up to a text bright and early in the morning when you were just sleeping next door. 

You weren't sure if you believed him. “Are you sure?”

And it would’ve continued to feel amazing if the person Jisung loved more than anything in the world loved him back. It would’ve been the best feeling in the world.

He nodded, “Yes. So please, tell me more.” No matter how he felt, he still wanted you to speak freely—unapologetically. What he was dealing with was his own issue, not yours.  

Was he in love with you again? He guessed he’d never really know for sure. He just knew he was beginning to feel things he’d worked so hard to put past him. The kind of wrenching feeling that he fought so hard to ignore, it just tore at his heart. 

But Jisung knew that he didn't own you, and perhaps he never will. So his sadness when you spoke about the boy you loved—he had no right to feel. He knew that you didn't owe him anything, and he shouldn't ask for more; he shouldn't feel so let down. 

So he spent the next few hours sprawled out on his bed with open arms, listening to your insecurities and doubts. How everything started, how it was going, quite literally everything you needed to get off your chest—you did.

“Maybe I should just let him go." You held the pillow closer to your chest. 

"Then do it. Leave him."

You looked up at your friend, frowning. "It’s easier said than done. I just feel like if I do I won't ever be this close to anyone again." A few moments passed, "You have to understand, I put so much into our friendship hoping for more. I poured so much into him, gave him so much..." You trailed off.

Jisung tilted your chin up to meet his, “Exactly. You love him with a love that absolutely consumed you and he still doesn't seem to put you first." 

And it wasn't until the clock hit eleven at night that you realized that you were probably overreacting. 

Jisung had given you advice, more biased towards his own feelings, but regardless you didn't take it. Seemingly enough, you had spent yet another day thinking about Hyunjin except you had dragged your friend down the rabbit hole with you.

“You really should’ve told me to shut up!” You groaned, rolling your eyes at how much you rambled and word-vomited for hours. “Now I wasted our entire night.”

No, he was right there, and he wanted to listen. Whenever you were sad, he wanted to hear why. He wanted to know what you were feeling, all the time, so he could share those feelings with you.

Jisung chuckled, giving you a soft smile. “It’s alright. I didn't have anything planned anyways.” Except for the fact that he needed to be at Chan and Changbin’s almost two hours ago. Surely, they understood Jisung’s situation though as he sent them a bullshit, yet believable excuse. 

Sighing, you snuggled your head against him to get more comfortable. “How did we get so boring? I feel like we’re thirty with a nine-to-five.”

“People with nine-to-five don't rot on their beds for this long, Y/N.” He laughed loudly, “But I agree. I guess it’s ‘cause nothing is exciting anymore.”

“Hm, that's probably the reason,” you wondered to yourself. “I guess we should probably make it exciting then, huh?” A sly smirk formed on your lips.

He looked at you slightly confused for a few moments before he understood the direction you were headed in. 

“Sleepover?” The both of you said it in unison and laughed immediately after. 

Let’s just say he owed you a soda after the jinx contest.

Jisung’s head was propped in his hand, his elbow, body angled toward you. The light from the TV screen in his room just barely caught his eyes, drawing liquidy slivers of color in them.

He rolled his eyes, "Fine, I take it back. I love his character. Does that make you happy?" 

You maneuvered onto your side, facing him, and nodded with a ridiculous grin. "It makes me very happy, Sungie.”

His knee bumped yours. You bumped his back.

A shadow of a smile passed over his serious face; there and gone so fast you might've imagined it. "Good," he said.

The both of you stayed like that for a long time, watching the movie from an angle where neither of you could possibly see more than half the screen, your knees pressed into one another.

Whenever one of you rearranged, the other followed. Whenever one of you could no longer bear the discomfort of one position, you both shifted. But you both never stopped touching, and Jisung believed he was in dangerous territory.

It was nearly two in the morning before both of you realized that it was inevitably time to call it a night and go to bed.

Although the both of you were film junkies and often tended to have binge parties with each other on a normal occurrence, it was rare to have sleepovers nowadays—especially when your rooms were right beside each other. There just didn't seem to be a point in them anymore.

The last time you remembered having one was when you two moved into your apartment sophomore year. Before that, you nearly had them every weekend. You’d never forget the unexpected sleepovers in high school where Jisung would always run back home across the street to quickly grab his toothbrush. 

It was strange how your childhood sort of felt like forever. Then suddenly you both were sixteen and the world became an hourglass, and you're watching the sand pile up at the wrong end. 

“We really, really need to sleep,” Jisung yawned. His tired eyes were evident in showing the lack of sleep he had been getting this past week. You agreed and stood up, causing him to watch you, “Oh, are you not spending the night?” 

He wanted you to stay.

“I’ll be back. Just gonna use the bathroom.”

The apartment looked abandoned, so dark and quiet. It made sense for the hour. Minho was surely in the middle of his rem cycle, peacefully asleep. You wished you took care of yourself half as well as Minho took care of himself. 

Entering the bathroom, you quickly brushed your teeth and ran back over to Jisung’s room. Were you excited? Of course, you were. It had been a long time and you missed the feeling of having an authentic sleepover without one of you going to your own bed.

Soon after you came back, he headed to the bathroom himself. You let your back fall onto his bed with a sigh. 

You should probably change into your sleepwear before you passed out soon, but the thought of walking over to your room sounded like the biggest mission ever.

Your eyes felt heavy. Maybe you could just sleep in what you were already in, that would've been the easiest way to satisfy your desire for slumber. But you’d feel uncomfortable in your tight shirt though. You pondered for a moment before deciding on wearing one of Jisung’s shirts. 

Yeah, that sounded much better.

Slapping yourself awake and mustering what little energy you had, you dragged your feet over to his dresser. His drawers were always a mess and honestly, you had found his shirts thrown in about every single one of them. 

So what you saw—it really wasn't your fault.

You blinked a few times, your eyes focusing on the box that was underneath the shirt you just picked up. A box of condoms was placed near the corner of the drawer, some of the foiled elastics scattered messily around.

Just in time, Jisung walked back in and noticed your blank expression. He snickered, “What?” He took off his hoodie, throwing it onto his empty desk chair before jumping into bed. The lack of words concerned him. “Earth to Y/N-”

Fear was strange. 

You supposed it settled on chests and seeped through skin—through layers of tissue, muscle, and bone—collecting itself in a black hole and sucking the joy out of life. The pleasure, and the beauty. 

But not the hope. Somehow, the hope was the only thing resistant to the fear, and it was that hope that made the next breath possible, the next step, the next tiny act of rebellion, even if that rebellion was simply a kiss.

Within a matter of seconds, you found yourself on the bed beside Jisung. The shirt in your hands was thrown on the end of his bed. Confusion still narrowed his face as you brought your hand to his cheek. He didn't flinch or move—even speak. 

Suddenly he wasn't capable of it anymore.  

And unexpectedly, without a word, you kissed him. Your breathing sounded too loud. Your heart was beating too quickly.

Oh, God. What had you done?

He could’ve sworn that he felt the stars turn emerald and gold to match your aura. The moon would’ve given your skin enough radiance to leave glowing traces on his skin when you did so. This made him long to be underneath the night sky with you once more.

Honesty, you felt so stupid. You felt so stupid because your feelings were heightened from confessing and stupidly sharing your feelings earlier—so much so, you kissed Jisung. It was a mistake. 

You were sitting vulnerable, lips pressed against your best friend. You felt naked—not literally. But that's how it felt. You were sitting there trembling and metaphorically naked, and you had no idea what he was thinking.

Terror rushed through you as you pulled away and met his eyes. You were expecting him to be upset, rightfully so. You had kissed him without warning, without a word. But your doubts quickly subsided in a matter of seconds. 

He always envied people like that, people like you. People could just act on their impulses and go out on a whim. He envied how you could just decide to go and do without worrying about what could happen until after. He envied how free you were, and how your energy could bring a room to life. 

Maybe that was what compelled him to kiss you again.

In one quick move, he reached for you, tugging you against his chest as he claimed your mouth in a kiss that was so much hotter, but no less intimate than the first. 

His lips slanted over yours, hot and needy as his tongue tasted your mouth. His arms held you so tightly it made you feel more secure than you had ever felt in a very long time.

You suddenly felt more than secure; you felt adored. You felt seen and heard, and like the most important person on the planet.

But you see, people like him could merely dream of people like you.

He pulled away with a light groan, “I’m sorry.” He felt shame wash over him as he caught himself getting carried away.

“Jisung—”

“No, no. I’m sorry,” he repeated, shaking his head.

They always said that the moon loved the sun. Jisung never understood the pain that the moon must have been in. How much those moments when they crossed paths must have meant to it. 

He was starting to understand now. He couldn't ever have you. He could never hold you or need you because, in the end, he couldn't have you. 

So it all felt wrong. He shouldn't be kissing you—not right now at least. Not when he could be easily convinced that you wanted him. It was too late in the night for him to separate your real feelings from the agreement you’d both made together.

Sure, he could’ve pretended that you wished to be his and make it easier for both of you. He could create this idea that you had secretly wanted him all along. And then, he’d forget that it was just something he had made up. But, he’d be dumb to do that. You didn't want him and you were not his.

You on the other hand were unable to decide on what you should've felt. Embarrassment should've been the first thing on the list, but somehow desire still found its way to the top. And because of that, you were so selfish, so inconsiderate, so self-centered for what you were about to do.

“Don’t be sorry, Sungie.”

You stood, grabbing the shirt you had previously tossed on the bed. Jisung had no other choice but to watch you as you took off your shirt, unhooked your bra, and let it slip to the floor before pulling one of his shirts over your head.

Jisung’s eyes flare wide and he shot up. Suddenly he was taking back his apology and morals. One night wouldn’t hurt him as bad, he hoped. 

"No, no. That was way too fast... do it again.” His voice was strained and you huffed out a laugh.

Purposely ignoring his request, you pulled off your lounge shorts, and Jisung bit back his tongue, dramatically throwing himself back on the pillow to face the ceiling.

"What?" you asked, continuing to laugh at his expense.

"Well, first of all. You just flashed me for the first time—you're evil for that, by the way..." He raised himself to lean on one elbow. "Second, you said you'd be cool with spending the night with me after a long time, which is very sweet of you because I think there are ghosts in this room…” 

He was trying his hardest to not address the elephant in the room, and you let him continue to speak because he wasn’t done yet.

"Lastly, you look so fucking adorable in my clothes.”

Raising an eyebrow quizzically, you gasped in disbelief, “Hey! Don’t I always?” You sat back on his bed, close to him, still aware of the frustration that was lurking in the air. 

It was clear he was also fighting the urge to grab you and swallow you. He nervously chuckled, opting to bunch the fabric at your waist into his grasp. 

No, you didn't understand… You looked so adorable in his clothes that he wanted to rip them off you. 

He pulled you closer to him because he just couldn't help himself anymore. And you couldn't either by the way you didn't bother hearing what he had to say next. 

Instead, you reconnected both of your lips and the both of you felt a wave of ecstasy fill your bodies in excitement. 

You never really processed what was happening as it was all going too fast. But, this was Jisung. The Jisung who would never judge you—who would never make you feel as little as you made yourself feel. Who would tease you, but never fail to compliment you. He was good to you in his own way. A little too good. 

You pulled back, trying to breathe. When you eased back on your heels, it seemed like for a fraction of a moment before Jisung followed you, trying to fill the gap between your mouths again. He wanted this so much more than you could ever imagine.

So, lightly pushing him back on the bed—your lips still connected—you slid on top and straddled him. Perfect. A shot of adrenaline coursed through him when he felt your arms trap him, your clothed core pressed against his.

He felt your muscles relax this time around. It wasn't common that you found yourself this close to Jisung despite your long history. This was far too different, far too new.

With a sigh of something like defeat, he ran his hands up and down your bare thighs, repeating, "You're perfect. So, so perfect for me” like a mantra in his head. Your lips were soft, so soft. He had kissed you before but he nearly melted this time.

And you moved, grinding slowly against him teasingly, which made his heart race and mouth go dry. His breathing sped up. All of his blood rushed south, and he was harder than a fucking brick. He was definitely in a lot more pain than he’d ever been before. 

He needed to be inside of you. But he was patient—of course, he was.

You pushed his hand down to where your butt met your thigh. He had to bend down a lot and it got his mouth much closer. Now, you pulled his other hand up from your ribs, to the side of your breast. 

He looked like he was about to pass out. Your ego was nearly too big to fit in this room.

He had his hands on you. Too bold for your own good. You lifted his hand and snuck it up underneath the loose shirt, pressing his fingertips up your hips… up your torso… and up to your breasts… just to see what happened.

Whatever control he had over himself slipped significantly and his hand regained its autonomy. His thumb traced your nipple, gently, making you suck in a breath at the coldness of his finger. "Jisung." You muttered, parting from his lips.

His eyes grew to be hooded, heavy with slumber still as he quietly spoke, "Do you want to stop?" His thumb continued to make patterns and it made you have the urge to press your body closer to him.

"No,” you answered. "Do you?"

He shook his head, feeling rather pathetic realizing how quickly he did so. 

You brushed away the hair from his forehead. “How badly do you want it?”

So badly—More than anything.

But then reality hit him. This was your first time. It wasn't fair of him to do this, right? His thumb came to a stop and he loosened his grip around you. 

He thought he was finally over you. He really thought he was finally over you. But his mind slowly always crept back. No matter the situation, the people around him, or what he was doing. You were always there. 

In the deepest parts of his mind. He still wanted you. He began to think that he always will.

“You seem hesitant.”

“I’m not,” he defended which made you give him a certain look, causing him to sigh. He pulled away just enough to look at you, “It’s just…” He spoke up once more. “It’s your first time—I just can't help but think—”

“You don't have to worry about me.” Yes, he did. He will always end up worrying about you. You grabbed his hand, wrapping it around your torso so he could hold you tighter like before, like you missed the feeling of his weight pressed against you.

He looked down at you, eyes wide, unable to stop himself from looking from your eyes to your lips and back again. This feeling was not new to him, he had sex with a few girls before, but you were different, and he just didn't want to rob you of your first. 

It took every ounce within him to pull away, "No, I'm being serious—” 

He wanted you so badly, not just sexually. He would’ve been just fine with continuing to listen to you talk for hours about nothing. 

His eyes fell onto your wet lips again. He just wanted you. All of your flaws, mistakes, smiles, giggles, jokes, sarcasm, habits—everything the world had to offer. He just wanted you.

Your thumb caressed his jaw, sweetly, “Are you afraid that something would happen to me, Sungie?”

He nodded back trying his hardest to not focus on the way you looked at him so suddenly. You gently placed your hand on his cheek, guiding his head lower to you. 

See for Jisung, he didn't care about himself. He would always put you before him and it was no doubt a question up for discussion. But, he had promised himself that the next girl he would end up having sex with would be someone he would love. Someone he would end up being with, hopefully, for the rest of his life. 

He didn't expect that to be you.

You tilted your head, and ever so softly pressed your lips against his. And suddenly he felt his body tense up from underneath you because he was afraid. Afraid about who he would be after everything. 

Are you afraid that something would happen to me? It kept replaying in his mind, over and over again.

He wanted to say, “No no, maybe it wasn't that… maybe I’m just afraid of falling,” but he remained silent, falling into a sorrowful euphoria as he drowned that were your lips. 

Maybe if he did say it though, you would’ve said something along the lines of “You're not going to fall, silly,” and then he would’ve followed up with, “Yes, I will—if we continue this, I'm a goner.”

But he remained silent. 

Instead, he put a hand under your knee to lift your leg over his hip. His fingertips stroked up under the hem of the shirt you wore, making a smooth line up your outer thigh to the side of your underwear. 

When his fingertips touched the elastic and you shivered. "Have you ever… touched yourself?" He breathed out against your lips.

You nodded and he nearly came at the thought of you unraveling yourself next door. What did you think about? Who were you thinking of? How come he hadn't heard you? 

Suddenly he felt like a creep, wondering and fantasizing about how you got off.

“Have you?” You redirected it to him. He scoffed lightheartedly, pulling your hand to his lower half where the evidence of his attraction was obvious through his sweatpants. 

The answer was clear and you dared to glance down his body—to what strained under his pants. 

His lips were so swollen, so red. He already looked so fucked out and nothing even happened yet. You wondered how you looked from his perspective. 

All you knew was that whenever his cold fingers traced you anywhere, you shuttered. 

“W-What do you like?” He choked out, his fingers continuing to graze the lining of your underwear.

He was absolutely in love with the way your breathing changed as soon as he touched your body. He could only imagine your sweet moans mixed in with little screams of pleasure, all because of him. But still, he was afraid of making the wrong move that would fuck it all up. 

You didn’t answer his question and instead tugged on the fabric of his shirt, “Off.” 

In his world, your wish was his command, and seconds later, he threw off his shirt somewhere in his room. Your hands desperately traveled down to the waistband of his sweatpants in an attempt to help him take it off too.

"No," he said, stopping your hands from continuing further. "Let me touch you first.” He had wanted to do it for so long. 

You didn't say no. Instead, you laid, wide-eyed, gazing up at him as his fingertips traced your temples, then your cheekbones, then—softly despite his rough calluses—outlined the shape of your mouth as if he meant to commit it to memory. 

The gesture made your heart abruptly spin inside your chest. His eyes remained fixated on you, as dark as the bottom of the ocean, wondering, dazed with discovery. 

Laying still, his fingertips left your mouth and trailed a path down your throat, stopping at your pulse. Your eyelids fluttered half-closed as his warm hand covered your bare collarbone. 

You recalled when you felt Hyunjin’s hair graze your neck that moment in the art studio—when you really believed nothing could feel better than feeling his presence overtop you. It was as if Jisung’s hands did the same to your skin. 

You burned where he touched you, and could feel where his fingers had been even when they had moved on. 

His hands moved lightly but lower, over the bodice of your shirt, following the curves of your hips. You gasped, as his hands slid to grip your waist and draw you toward him, pulling your bodies together until there was not a millimeter of space.

You ached for more contact. Your hand slid to your ribs to cover his through the cotton. He looked up at you through dark lashes and began to lift a corner of your shirt, up your thighs, and past your hip, until it caught right under your breast. 

You gave him a helpless look, and he prowled closer. His fingers found the loose hem of your shirt. "Can I?" he asked quietly.

You whispered, "Yes.”

Jisung still studied your eyes, as if reading the sincerity of that word and deeming it true. Gently, he pulled the fabric from you. Cool air kissed your skin, pebbling it. The flexible band around your hips remained, but Jisung’s gaze remained on your own. 

"Tell me what you want next," he said, tucking the strands of hair that had fallen onto your face.

Hand nervous, you grazed a finger over your underwear.

Jisung’s own hands shook as he reached to pull it down. As he revealed you to the air, to him. His eyes seemed to go wholly black as he took in the entire sight of you, your uneven breathing.

Beautiful.

Your mouth curled as his expression settled within you. It gave you enough courage that you grabbed his hand and guided him to your seeping heat. His eyes widened, the darkness concealing his sudden shock. 

You were so wet. So, incredibly and seemingly wet that he could pull his fingers away and see the string of arousal follow him. 

And at that moment, he realized, you couldn't get any more attractive than this. Seeping out and he barely even touched you. Not because of Hyunjin—not because of yourself—but because of him.

Jisung trembled with restraint. It was an emotion, you weren't aware he had.

That darling purr of his rumbled into you as he pressed his mouth against yours once more. His hand drifted to your hair, each stroke unbinding the braid you lazily made earlier sometime during the movie.

"We only go as far and long as you want," he muttered, his tongue exploring yours. He was trying his hardest to leave his mark. The one Hyunjin had taken and erased from you with his lips before. “Okay?”

“Okay.”

Jisung gently brushed his thumb over your throbbing clit and you felt your muscles tighten at the contact. 

"Good?" He asked. It was clear he was trying to understand and study what you liked. He worked a finger up and down your slit, much to your demise, lazily playing with your arousal. 

You were growing light-headed.

You pulled him back in, capturing his lips hungrily—fingers getting stuck in his messy hair. “Sungie. Please.”

“I know—I know shhh,” he hushed sweetly into your ear, before kissing below your jawline and making his way in between your legs. You couldn't be held responsible for what happened next.

He slipped a finger, your mouth agape at the feeling. You had only fingered yourself before and you had grown used to the feeling of your own fingers inside you. But his—they were longer and thicker, you couldn't think straight. 

He started to move them in and out slowly to get you adjusted to the pressure of his fingers inside you. But you were extremely wet that it didn't take long for him to start fingering you properly, hooking his fingers into you. 

“You’re so tight,” he sighed beginning to play with your clit with his other hand. Your hands quickly grabbed ahold of his shoulders, eyes rolling to the back of your head from the stimulation. “But, you have to be quiet…” He was referring to your clueless friend who was just across the hallway fast asleep.

You see, you would have answered, praising him for fitting you and making you feel so good that he needed to warn you about being loud... if he hadn't closed the distance between your clit and his mouth. 

It was a little more than you’d expected—your hips rising at the sudden contact. His hand went onto your waist to steady you a little. 

Your jaw dropped, “Fuck—” 

Jisung was eating you out, his tongue playing so skillfully against your bud. He was really trying to ruin you, huh? You couldn't think straight anymore and it certainly didn't warrant the way his heart pounded in his chest wondering if you fell in love with his mouth. 

He inserted another finger into your cunt, making you muffle your moan with the back of your hand. Your head was spinning. His fingers pumped, curling into you so perfectly as his mouth was on your heat, tasting you, devouring you.

You forced yourself to think straight and it worked until the pressure on your lower stomach began to build. You had no idea how much time you had left but all you knew was that you couldn't go on for much longer. 

“Ji, I-I’m going to cum.”

He felt something warm as he felt you release into his mouth. You tasted so pure and sweet. It didn't help that you looked so alluring contracting against his fingers either, as your walls pulsated with pleasure. 

It was powerful and perfect and beautiful. When it was too much, you pulled him up to you. He watched as you twitched with the last aftershocks of pleasure, feeling your little heart beat a drum against his own. 

At this moment, he had everything. Every last thing he needed.

He waited a few moments, the sounds of both of your breaths filling up the room. His chin was glistening in your arousal and you had the oddest impulse to just lick it off. 

Understanding the sudden hunger in your eyes, he hovered himself over you. "Can I fuck you?" he asked against your mouth fulfilling your desire.

Kissing him back, you pulled him even closer, tracing his hot, sweaty skin. He knew he wasn't worthy, but he selfishly wanted you anyway. 

"Mmm?" Your breaths were still heavy from your orgasm and you clenched on nothing but his words.

"Can I fuck you? Please?"

Nodding, you reached down for him to help take off his sweatpants, but he wasn't sure if there was time for that. He was hard in a way that was painful and urgent—different from ever before, and your flawless, soft, tight core was right there, ready for him.

Nonetheless, he quickly parted from you to slip out of his pants and boxers, grabbing a condom from the drawer you had mistakenly opened. You began to wonder what would've happened if you hadn't opened the drawer. Would you have been fucking your best friend? Maybe it would've happened in a week from now—maybe two. 

You weren't sure. 

All you were certain about was that you needed him to fill you up.

He glided his tip along your slit, teasing you. And when he began to slide inside of you—slowly—afraid of hurting you in any way, his existence narrowed to the bare details: the pressure around his dick, strained, world-defining; Your eyes held his own, shocked-wide; the air between you, warm, heavy.

"You're so big," you gasped, wincing.

He groaned into your neck. Maybe he was big. Still. "You can take it." Nothing, nothing existed, except for the pleasure tingling at the base of his spine.

"I can," you agreed, still adjusting to him. Your walls clenched on Jisung’s length and he had to close his eyes, or else it would’ve been over right now.

And when he finally moved from inside of you, your toes curled with the unbelievable feeling. It was so much deeper like this, and he lifted your hips a little so you were able to absorb every inch. You were filled and stretched, and he felt like his work was only halfway finished. He wanted you to feel complete.

He rocked inside you, and it was torture. Delicious, drowning torture.

You grabbed his hand, guiding it to your swollen bud below. He was quick to catch on and began rubbing circles which made you slap your hand over your mouth to silence yourself. 

“It was too late in the night—and Minho was right across the hallway,” you kept reminding yourself.

Jisung worked your clit slowly, making your thighs tighter at his sides. You were purely in bliss. Nothing could make you mad or upset when you were filled with pleasure in this way. 

You began to wonder why you had waited so long to fuck someone. For Hyunjin? Suddenly you didn't care.

He hit the spot deep inside of you, and your head flipped back, jaw-dropping as you released quite literally the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard. You were convinced that you’d still feel where he was inside of you the next day. 

He pushed his hips up hard against you, sending shudders through your body. “Y-You’re doing so well,” he moaned out. If he was being honest, he could've came the second he felt your walls close in on him. 

His breath against your ear made you shudder with each deliberate release of air. "I’ve wanted to make you feel this way," he repeated over and over again to himself. "Every moment of every hour of every day that I have been with you since the day I met you. But you know that. You must know. Don't you?"

“Faster—please.”

"Are you close baby?" He whimpered, his brows furrowing as he began to feel his high rising. He was getting sloppier and sloppier.

The feeling was so erotic and the sounds he made weren’t helping. It was only getting you closer and closer to your release. 

Your body had lost control as you nodded frantically at his question. The ripple inside you turned into a wave, your mouth pooling with whines. 

It wasn't supposed to happen. He wasn't supposed to love you like this. 

When he first met you— when you had moved into the house across the street, sleeping so beautifully in your carrier, just like him, he wouldn't have ever imagined that you would be the one he would ache for. That you would be the one whose name left him with a nostalgic pain. 

You meant more to him than ever expected.

You moaned loudly into your hand, afraid to wake Minho as your high washed over you—diligently this time around. Your body fell into waves of contractions as Jisung’s head dropped in the nook of your neck, fucking through your sweet release until his own shot right into the condom.

He always told you that no matter what you did or what he did, he’d always love you. You’d always hug him and smother him with kisses all over saying how much you’d always love him too. 

Of course, you meant it completely platonically—but at the time, he savored your words and couldn't stop smiling for weeks. 

Jisung wished he could tell his younger self a few things. Never did he ever picture you underneath, tears brimming in your eyes as he made you come so well. And it was harder for him to believe that he was doing it for the wrong reasons. You didn't do it out of love or lust. It wasn't infatuation or hate.

But seemingly enough, he couldn't be too bothered right now. You both were fucked out, unable to speak as your throat grew sore just like the space in between your legs. 

To him, it was worth it.

This was when part of him realized he would always be stuck on you. It was clear he had little to no self-respect for himself when it came to you. Why? He had no idea. Maybe because you were the first person he had truly unconditionally loved. Maybe because you were the only one who was able to put him in this excruciating pain.

He kissed your forehead, sweetly, and thought to himself, "I swear there is no one I would ever love the way I love you."

Pulling out of you, he instantly missed the warmth and tightness that you had given him prior. He believed that was when he had gotten scared of the world around him, feeling so vulnerable and open. He wanted to go back into the world he had created with you and stay there forever. And ever. And ever.

It was silent as Jisung threw away the sticky condom in his bin. The air in the room was still and he couldn't bring himself to say a word to break the tension. You were still recovering from everything and could only focus on the white ceiling while doing so. 

He threw his sweatpants back on, grabbing a towel from his closet to clean you up. He wasn't sure if you minded the mess you made all over yourself, but he took it up himself to wipe it away nonetheless.

"So this is what sex with you would be like.”

His face fell pale and he peered up from in between your legs. You couldn't resist teasing him regardless of the hour. 

Clearing his throat, he licked his dry lips, unsure of what to say. He suddenly felt so awkward—something that was rare when it came to the both of you. Instead of replying, he did his last swipe and finished cleaning you. 

Throwing the towel in his hamper, he joined you in his sheets, quickly not favoring the space in between you both.

You turned around to face him. “Sungie?”

It was dark in his room, but he could still see your face so well. He had memorized every part of you so skillfully that it began to petrify him. 

What if he’d never forget you? What if, all his life, whenever he’d meet someone new, he could never fall for them because they weren't you? 

“Hm?” He hummed in a low voice.

He’d never forget the songs you’d listened to or the things you’d talked about. He wouldn't dare forget the little inside jokes you both had or the laughs you shared. Surely, he wouldn't ever forget your smile or the sound of your voice. 

He’d never forget you, so please, don't forget him.

You woke up to the blaring sound of Jisung’s alarm.

Fluttering your eyes open, you were faced with him peacefully asleep. His hair was a mess and his arm was lazily draped over your body. The sunlight that crept past the blinds hit his bare back, a golden hue forming, and you had the sudden impulse to touch it. Just trace it and feel the marks you made last night.

The alarm continued.

“Maybe that would have been odd of you to do that,”  you wondered. But it was just so tempting that your fingers began to tingle from the thought. Your eyes were still hooded from your slumber and your eyesight wasn't the best but it almost looked like Heaven had appeared from behind him. 

Faded footsteps around the apartment began to sound, growing to become evidently prominent as they came to a stop behind the bedroom door. That was when the realization hit you. 

You had fucking class today. 

There was a knock at the bedroom door.

“Ji, you up?” Minho called out. 

Your eyes widened and you jumped up, throwing Jisung’s arm off you. It was evident he didn't hear or feel a single thing as he simply snuggled up against his pillow once more. 

Panicked by your compromising position with Minho behind the door, you tried to look for your phone. 

“Jisung!” You whispered adamantly, attempting to wake the boy up. 

His room was a mess. It wasn't like it was anything new, but today, it was too messy. His comforter reached the bottom of his bed, and blankets and pillows fallen off to the ground. Both of your clothes were scattered, pizza boxes and empty soda cans cluttered on his desk. 

It also didn't help that his alarm was still blaring that annoying tune.

Minho knocked again, louder. You jumped at the sound, throwing on Jisung’s shirt from last night. “Hanji, your alarm is loud as shit. Wake up,” he groaned and knocked for the third time.

Nothing.

Jisung was the heaviest sleeper ever. You grabbed a pillow from off the ground and smacked it onto his head and almost instantly his eyes shot open, startled. 

“What the fu—”

You covered his mouth with your hand, “Minho is here and I think I’m late for class.” He was still shocked by his abrupt awakening to process the words that exited your mouth. “Can you please turn off your alarm?” 

He wordlessly clicked the off button, unable to form a coherent sentence still.

Minho spoke again from behind the door, “Took you long enough.”

Aggressively signaling for Jisung to reply, his eyes widened, unsure of what to say. Ultimately enough the boy cleared his dry throat. “O-Oh sorry Lino?” He was rather confused and it was clear by the tone of his response.

“Don’t worry about it. It was just so loud,” Minho stifled a lighthearted laugh. You rolled your eyes at his laid-back tone. If you were in Jisung’s shoes, your door would've been busted down by now. “Anyways, I’m making pancakes. You want some?”

“Yeah sure, thanks. I'll be out in a bit.” 

Once Minho walked off, you groaned continuing to scavenge the mess on the ground in search of your phone. Pancakes sounded really good right now and you could feel your stomach begin to grumble as you thought about devouring them. 

You picked up a stray pillow from off the ground and finally saw a familiar case. “Thank God,” you sighed. Once turning it on, you noticed two things. One, that you were indeed late for class, and two, that you had a few missed messages from Hyunjin.

hyunjin: hey, are you coming to lit? 

hyunjin: maybe we can walk togetherrrr

hyunjin: lol i guess ur skipping??

Jisung finally spoke up, “So are you actually late?” You nodded, busy as you figured out how to respond to Hyunjin. 

He sat up against his headboard, rubbing his sleepy eyes. Noticing your stale expression as you looked at your phone, he leaned over to grab his phone from his nightstand. 

“What time is it? Is it that bad?” 

You sat back on his bed, “No, it’s only ten but—it’s just that Hyunjin texted me.”

Jisung glanced up from his phone briefly before looking back down. He tried his hardest to not show how bothered he’d become in a matter of seconds. “What did he say?” He yawned. Honestly, he could've cared less, especially after last night, but he was always such a curious soul.

“He wanted to walk to class together.” You were attempting to formulate a text to respond with, but your mind kept blanking. “I’m not sure of what to say…” You turned to him, handing your phone over with pleading eyes. “Can you please make something up?”

You see, most people compared eyes to oceans or galaxies. Not your eyes though. They reminded him of his favorite thing, coffee. He thought about it for a moment, and then met your eyes. That was when he realized that's probably why he felt so awake when you looked at him. You were like coffee in the morning. 

He sat up straighter, gulping, with wide eyes. “Y-Yeah, of course.” It was when he took your phone he wondered why you wouldn't just tell Hyunjin the truth—that you woke up late. But he’d rather not question you, not when he was simply willing to do anything you wanted him to.

He sent a text and handed the phone back to you.

You didn't bother reading what he had sent, too ashamed of yourself for waking up late and missing an opportunity with Hyunjin after a long weekend apart. 

“Thanks.” 

Jisung gave you a thin-lipped smile, finally standing up from his bed. Not only did he realize his room was an utter mess, but he felt like he was about to pass out again when he took a look at you on his bed still.

Of course, you were clothed this time around, but even seeing you wearing his shirt made his chest flutter. It wasn't good for his sanity to see you there anymore. 

“Aren't you late for class?” 

You groaned, throwing your head on his pillow in despair. You were killing him, seriously. “I’m already late. Should I still g-”

“Yes.” His tone was adamant which caught you by surprise

“Woah, did I suck that bad last night?” You scoffed, jokingly. Jisung felt something in his pants twitch as he finally recalled the events that he wanted to ignore. Your eyes trailed down to his sweatpants and you laughed. “Hmm, I guess not.”

His jaw dropped and he quickly grabbed a pillow from the floor to cover his very clear hard-on. For the first time, in a long time, he was embarrassed in front of you. There was no doubt that he was flustered, his cheeks darkened in color as he tried whatever he could to suppress the feeling between his legs. 

But his mind kept running to when you first kissed him last night to when you begged for him, and when he begged for you—it was all too much to take right now.

Of course, you were good. 

He decided to let that topic of conversation die out because he’d die of embarrassment himself if he didn't. “So, are you coming tonight?” Clearing his throat, he hugged the pillow against his crotch tighter silently praying that by the time he removed it, everything would be okay. 

“Tonight? What’s tonight?”

“Chan and Bin’s party.”

Ah, the event Hyunjin referred to on Friday that he was going to—well, maybe he wasn't anymore. Who knew? The lack of communication was killing you and you felt a pit in your stomach again when you recalled the missed opportunity with him this morning again. 

You were getting tired of yourself, you shouldn't think too much about him.

So you thought about it for a moment, unknowingly letting your eyes drift down to the pillow that was held against Jisung’s trembling hands. “Whose going to be there?”

“Everyone you know. Come.” 

“Well, what if it's boring?” 

The boy rolled his eyes at your obvious attempt to be difficult on purpose. “It won't be boring! I’ll be there.”

“That's interesting considering you're in the middle of hiding your boner Jisung.” You suppressed another laugh, a smile was plastered on your face. Toying with him was one of the best things you knew how to do.

That’s interesting, considering you fucked your best friend.

If it was possible for someone's face to catch on fire, his would’ve been by now. He didn't even know what to say, he was at a loss for words. His expression was evident and he didn't even bother to conceal it.

“Relax, I’ll think about it.”

It wasn't long until you found yourself getting ready for the party later that night. Inevitably enough, you already knew that you were going to end up attending. Especially since you were about eighty percent sure that Hyunjin was going to be there. 

You just missed him a lot, and you couldn't stop thinking about him.

“Are you almost ready?” Minho peered into your room. Seeing how you were in the middle of grabbing your bag and already dressed, he assumed you were. “Nevermind, I guess you are. ” 

The both of you ended up walking over to your friend's house together as it wasn't too far away. You were really starting to get tired of the cold, mostly at night when the sun was gone and the wind went crazy. 

Minho turned over to you, “Ji said he that he’s already there, right?”

You nodded. “Yeah, he went early to set up. Let’s hope they are done by now.”

“If they aren't, I’m going back home. I still need to pack for break,” he nonchalantly said, causing you to laugh. His personality was very unique that often you wondered if he’d ever find someone to be with.

You looped your arm in his, partly because you knew he would roll his eyes and because, well, you were cold. “I’m sure they’re done Lino.”

Finally arriving, the both of you were greeted by Changbin at the door. 

“Hey guys!” He was a cheerful mess and you wondered if he was already drunk. The party technically hadn't even started yet but still, suddenly you wanted to be on his level. 

Minho scrunched his nose in distaste, “How are you already drunk?” You stifled a laugh, covering your mouth with your free hand. 

“I kept taste testing the punch…” Changbin confessed, a grin still plastered onto his face.

There was a voice in the back that abruptly called out to Changbin. “Are people here already? You automatically knew who it was just by that.

Jisung appeared, his eyes instantly catching yours. “O-Oh hey guys.” He cleared his throat realizing how weird he sounded. You just looked so pretty that you caught him by surprise. Not that it was anything new—but he had to stop getting nervous like this. “Finally, you guys made it! We need some help.”

There was a groan from beside you, “I knew it…Y/N, didn't I tell you.”

“Mhm, you did,” you nodded, pursing your lips.

“Tell her what?” Jisung wanted to know too.

Minho sighed dramatically at the boy, “That you guys were going to take forever to set up!”

Jisung’s mouth fell into an ‘O’ shape because it was true. Low expectations were needed when it came to setting up for parties. But despite the struggle in doing so, 3Racha always ended up throwing the best functions on campus, so for that, he was still happy.

“Ji, where do you guys need us? We’ll help.” You asked, disregarding your friend's complaints from beside you.

After hearing his orders, you all headed to your designated stations. Yours was to blow up the remainder of the balloons and you thought that was a pretty easy task… until you were actually doing it. 

Your lungs were suffering by the time you tied the tenth balloon. There was no way you were going to finish the entire bag.

Jisung on the other hand was making some random concoction with Changbin in the kitchen as Minho, annoyed as ever, poured snacks into several big bowls.

All of you had about an hour until people would show up and that was more than enough time to finish everything. Well, aside from the current balloon you were attempting to blow.

Your phone buzzed with a text, and you gladly took it as a sign to give your lungs a break.

jisung: i hate you for looking so pretty today wtf

You laughed to yourself, rolling your eyes. He was too ridiculous.

you: that’s not very nice

jisung: fine, what do you want me to say?

jisung: damn ma the universe took its time with you

you: definitely not that…

The both of you texted for a minute more before somebody walked over to you. Setting your phone down, you realized that it was Chan.

He sat beside you on the couch, “Do you need some help? I know balloons can be a tad bit tricky.”

Your eyes lit up and you smiled. “Oh my gosh, yes! Thank you! I thought I was going to die.”

Soon enough the both of you were able to finish whatever was left of the bag in a reasonable amount of time and Chan proceeded to then work on the music.

Minho walked in and plopped onto the couch beside you. Assuming his task was done too, you offered if he wanted a drink. He thought about it for a second before ultimately agreeing.

You walked over to the kitchen where your friends were still creating their concoction. Why was it taking forever to make spiked punch? You grew slightly concerned by its contents before ultimately letting them be. 

After grabbing two beers from off the counter, Jisung called out for you.

“Wait, Y/N. Come try this!” He offered, pouring some of the liquid he made into a plastic cup. “Changbin is too drunk.”

You looked at him suspiciously, “Why won't you try it?”

“Bro, I’ll get fucked up after one sip. I’d prefer to let the party start first.” 

That sounded about correct. Agreeing, you walked over to him and took the cup, taking a long sip. You winced as it went down, it was too strong. 

“You need to add more juice. Are you trying to give someone fucking alcohol poisoning?” You gagged at the aftertaste that was left on your tongue.

Jisung laughed at your reaction, “Wait, let me try it actually.” He took your cup back and added another ladle in. Taking a sip, he immediately spat it back. “This tastes like nail polish remover.”

The both of you fell into a fit of laughter, daring each other to take just one more sip. For a moment, Jisung had forgotten that he was in love with you. After all that had happened between you both, he felt like a kid with his best friend again.

He missed this feeling. He missed having you as his best friend.

“Y/N, you would be a horrible waitress, you know?” Minho said walking into the kitchen and interrupting your playtime. “You were supposed to get us drinks like ten years ago.”

You rolled your eyes, a smile still on your face from the laughter you just had. “You are such a drama queen Lino.”

“And stupid. Every time Y/N and Hanji are put in the same room, they are like"—Changbin suddenly clapped his hands—"magnets,” he staggered a chuckle. 

If you were honest, you’d forgotten he was in the room with you guys the entire time. 

Jisung felt his cheeks redden at the sound and refocused his attention on the awful punch he made. He should listen to your advice and add more juice instead of playing around—especially when people were supposed to start coming in now. 

But he was stuck between, "I really want to talk to you,” and "I really need to get over you.”

He internally groaned, cursing himself. He just needed to stop thinking, and let go.

He just loved you so much. He was in love with every single thing about you. Hearing your voice made him feel happy in seconds, and hearing your laugh made him smile no matter how hard he tried not to. When you smiled at him from across the room, his heart went all crazy and he had gotten the familiar butterflies—the ones that guided themselves back into his stomach not so long ago.

And when you finally hugged him before leaving the kitchen and held him in your arms, he didn't care about anything else except you and him. The both of you. You were just so important to him. 

You were his best friend and literally, his everything.

Soon enough, people staggered into the house—some already drunk. It wasn't too far into it that you realized you weren't really a party girl anymore. After the three years, you had been in college, they had just gotten too repetitive to enjoy them anymore.

You looked around the living room, there were a lot of people scattered everywhere. So many different personalities and lives. You see, you never wish to be easily defined. You’d rather float over other people's minds as something strictly fluid and non-perceivable; more like a transparent, paradoxically iridescent creature rather than an actual person.

But that would be too hard to explain in this complex world.

Sighing, you swallowed the rest of the punch in your cup. Where was Hyunjin? You kept thinking about him, hoping he’d walk in sometime soon but he hadn’t for over an hour now. 

You walked over to the punch, pouring another serving. It also didn't help that you felt like your tolerance had turned out to be better than you expected. You simply just weren't getting drunk and at this moment, you really wanted to.

Chugging down what you had poured, you almost spit it back out when your eyes finally landed on Hyunjin. He came.

When he walked into a room, people were aware. He was esoteric, distinctive, and different. His aura commanded intrigue and people would watch and stare in awe.

You finally saw him. It almost felt like you were drunk and just imagining it all.

Do you go up to him? Maybe he already found people to hang out with? You weren't sure what to do.

Jisung scared you from behind, grabbing ahold of your shoulders. You scowled, hitting him. “Don't fucking scare me like that.”

He brought his hands up in surrender, “Sorry! You just looked like you were zoning out. I couldn't help myself.” Just seconds ago, his eyes had spotted you and he couldn't help but gawk and your beauty when you didn't notice it. 

The dress you wore complimented your body very well.

But until he heard you speak, despite the aggression, it wasn't even about how you looked anymore, it was about who you were. He may meet other beautiful girls, but there was something unforgettable about you. It could be your character, your essence, or your vibe, or it could just be the fact that in a world so superficial, you chose to be yourself. 

You rolled your eyes at Jisung and went back to looking at Hyunjin who stood at the same spot. He looked so fucking pretty it hurt. You wanted to run over and shower him with kisses and tell him how much you missed him. 

And maybe you were starting to finally feel the alcohol hit you because you were so tempted to do so, that you took one step forward before you saw Hyunjin reach out his hand for someone.

You halted your movement and it was almost as if you felt your world come crashing down when you saw that the person who grabbed his hand was the girl from the night at the club, Bora.

In a perfect world, it was smooth, it was bliss, it was peaceful. Overwhelmed with content, Hyunjin would hold your hand and body close endlessly and it would feel so good because you knew just how much he loved you. 

He’d want to learn more and more about you and you’d answer each question because you could never bare to leave him clueless. 

But it never occurred to you that each question was a step closer to the end. You never realized that one day he was going to run out of questions. 

Jisung’s eyes followed your gaze and he sighed. And by the way Hyunjin’s face was filled with contentment as he laughed with Bora now, playing with her hands, he knew you had to be hurt.

You see, you saw the signs but chose to ignore them; the distant look in his eyes lately, and the lack of emotion. It wasn't the same as before when you and Hyunjin both started to see each other in the beginning. The lack of effort he began to give and how your conversations just seemed to end. 

You didn't want to accept the truth that was bluntly in front of your face. What did she have that you didn't? Maybe he was slowly losing interest in you. So much so, it made your heart break.

You weren't hurt because he didn't talk to you, he most likely didn't see you yet. You were hurt because you expected him to. You expected him to feel your presence and just look at you. Smile at you. 

You expected him to be waiting impatiently to see you, just to tell you “Hi”, just like you had been. To tell you that you looked beautiful. That your smile lit up his world.

You expected him to tell you about the funny stories you had missed all weekend, and laugh together. Not leaving until he told you goodbye and made you smile. You were hoping he didn't change, but your expectations made it worse. 

He never looked at you. Never talked to you. Never smiled. Nor laughed. And while you were waiting for him to, you knew he wouldn't. He was too busy with her.

And that's what made you feel worse. Expectations.

This would've been the best time for Jisung to tell you about who Bora was to Hyunjin but something compelled him to stay silent.

You turned around in your shoes, pouring another cup and drinking it within seconds. Jisung’s eyebrows rose in shock as he saw you refilling it yet again. 

“Woah, woah. Slow down.” He attempted to take the cup from you but you finished it before he could. “Just forget about him at least for tonight, Y/N.” 

You ignored him, throwing your cup away in the bin beside him. “Hey Jisung.” His eyes looked at you, waiting for you to continue as he was unsure of where you were headed. You leaned in and brought your lips to his ear, “Do you want to fuck me again?”

The color quickly drained from his face, growing pale. “W-What?”

You weren't in the right state of mind. You just saw the boy you loved with another girl, of course, you weren't thinking straight. 

“Do you?” You wrapped your arms around his neck, giving him a small kiss on his jaw. 

Yes. A million times, yes. But not now when your judgment was skewed. Still, he didn't have the heart to say no to you.

The lack of response made you scoff. “Well okay then.” You removed your arms from his neck, adjusting your small dress. “I’ll just find someone else, I guess.”

It was so much easier to act like none of it mattered. To pretend to wear a smile than to confess that his heart was ever so delicately dangling on a tight rope. It could be easily broken, you know? Completely and utterly shattered from losing someone who was never his, to begin with. You just needed to say the right words.

You attempted to walk away, but he held your wrist, not letting you distance yourself further from him. “You’re drunk. Stop it,” he sighed.

Laughing, you shook your head. “But I’m not, Ji. I’m perfectly sober—maybe a little tipsy, if anything.” You pulled your wrist away from his grasp, “I just hate being in love with someone who doesn't want to be with me.”

“That’s not true, he might…”

“Now, you’re just saying things to make me feel better.” You hugged your arms around your torso. “You really wouldn't understand, Sungie.”

How fucking ironic.

All the times you didn't look at him or call him over earlier in the night because you were too busy looking at the front door to see if Hyunjin would walk in. What he felt because of it—Jisung didn't show you. So when he finally came to you, he told himself that he wouldn't: he knew he had no right to feel it. 

But still, it didn't mean he didn't.

He hated how he told himself that he was giving up on you and yet years later, he was here, still trying. Because nothing made him happier and nothing made him sadder than you.

Every time you appeared, his heart grew a little too big and broke a little more.

His eyebrows rose, "So, that’s what you really think?" You bit on the inside of your cheek, not answering him. "You are probably the most interesting girl I've ever met.” 

It was the nicest way he could possibly call you the dumbest girl he’d ever met.

You didn't understand. You didn't see how he looked at you, how he fell for you every time you smiled, whenever he looked at you, he had to think about something else because all he wanted to do was kiss you. You didn't understand how whenever you were with Hyunjin, it literally killed him because he didn't love you like he loved you.

You loved Hyunjin more than he would ever know, and Jisung loved you more than he would ever show. What a tragedy.

Jisung grabbed your hand, guiding you toward the bathroom. At this point, he needed to be alone with you. You were driving him insane and if he was being sincere, he didn't seem to care anymore.

He shut the door and his eyes focused on you.

Everything around you suddenly smelled like him, like it belonged to him—like he was poured into the bottle you were drowning in. 

You didn't even realize that you were leaning into him, inhaling the scent of his neck until you found his hands were around your waist, and he said, "You," and he whispered it, he pressed the word into your skin before he hesitated. 

Then again, softer.

His chest, heaving harder this time. His words, almost gasping this time. "You destroy me."

At the time, you didn't know what he meant. You were too engrossed by the stillness around you. His voice in your ear... it did interesting things to you. It curved your back and parted your lips. You felt lazy and feline.

You saw Jisung get closer, and you closed your eyes, opening them to find him mere inches away. You suck in a breath as he cupped your face, bringing you closer still. In a matter of seconds, his lips touched yours, and your eyes close once more. 

His lips continue their exploration, gently at first, and then unyieldingly hard. You opened for him and his tongue snaked its way inside your mouth. His hands move from your face to your lower back as he pulled you toward him, closing whatever space was left between you. 

A few moments later, he broke the kiss, whispering something in your ear that sounded like nonsense. You pulled him even closer, grabbed a fistful of his hair, and kissed him as hard as you could. Your fingers were already attempting to release the button on his jeans. 

Jisung tasted like peppermint and smelled like cinnamon and gardenias. His arms were wrapped around you, his lips soft, almost sweet against your skin. There was an electric charge between you both that you hadn't anticipated.

Your head was spinning.

His lips were on your neck, tasting you, and you forced yourself to think straight. To force yourself to understand the issue of this situation. It was wrong, you knew it. But you didn't know how to reconcile the confusion in your mind, your hesitant repulsion, your inexplicable chemical reaction to his lips. 

You needed to feel him. Now.

Jisung lifted you by the waist, hoisting you up onto the edge of the sink, his hands cupping your rear, forcing your legs to wrap around him. He didn't realize that he had given you the perfect angle to press yourself against him.

"Do you want me to leave?" Jisung’s lips were at your ear when he spoke. He was breathing harder now and you felt his heart pound against you.

"No," you said too quickly. "No."

He leaned back, just a little. "Tell me what you want then," he said desperately. "Tell me what to do," he said, "and I'll do it."

What you were both doing—it wasn't normal. 

You could choose to look away if you wanted to, but you didn't. Your chest rose and fell as your breathing became labored. And suddenly your clothes felt far too tight on your skin. 

The moment he turned his head to lock eyes with yours, you knew what you both were about to do.

He lifted his right hand to move a strand of hair that had become stuck to your forehead and placed it behind your ear.

Your mouth went dry. "I—I don't know what I'm doing.”

"Anything you do will be enough."

You tried to remember how to speak, but you were too focused on the fingers he was running down your thighs to form sentences. There's something about the absolute darkness, about not being able to see what was happening that made you drunk, not with the liquor, but with a delicious dizziness. 

Sometimes he’d look at you and you’d look at him and just know. Both of your eyes spoke more than your mouths ever did. Some of your glances said, "I want you right now" and he said, "It's okay, I'm here."

And that was all you managed to say.

He leaned his forehead against yours and lightly scoffed knowing that was far from the truth. "You know," he said. "It's so hard for me to stop myself." His words tingled on your skin.

You allowed your hands to slip under his shirt. You traced the perfectly sculpted lines of his body. He was nothing but lean muscle. "You don't have to," you told him. His fingers were at the dip right below your hip bone, teasing the small piece of fabric that kept you halfway decent

Surely, he had to.

It was hard for him that you weren't together. He never knew where the lines were. He wanted to cross them all the time. You’d kissed and touched, but then you’d both go back to being just friends and it was confusing.

He wanted to feel your wet core swallow his fingers whole. He wanted to give you everything you wanted tonight. 

Your hands landed flat above his collarbones, fingers curling into his shirt. He kept one hand on your waist and moved the other across your jaw. Still, he didn't bring his mouth down on yours. His eyes shifted between your own half-closed eyelids and then focused in on your lips—which pouted in response.

"You've got to stop looking at me like that." He brushed his thumb across your bottom lip, and your eyes were fully closed. He groaned, "Don't do that either."

Your voice was breathier than you’d heard before. "Do what?" 

"Act like you want my touch that much."

“But I do.”

He brushed your lip again, longer this time, from one corner to the other. You reeled from it, but you held still so he wouldn't pull away. You didn't want him to stop.

“No, you don't.”

Your tongue found the pad of his thumb. Rough and salty. Possessing by whatever force there was between you both, you nipped his thumb gently as you looked up at him. Ask him to stay, and he would. 

You wrapped your legs around his waist and whispered in his ear. "Stay.” 

This was his cue to kiss you again, much more softly this time around. To wrap his fingers in your hair and later enclose them around your neck. Gently, but just hard enough to feel your pulse. The quiet beat, beating. 

You wouldn't always be this vulnerable, this open. Right now your trust was in the palm of his hand. This was his cue to pull you closer. He placed a gentle thumb on your bottom lip and you breathed out. 

"Stay, stay, stay," you said as you rubbed yourself against his leg. 

He loved you. You: it's such a simple word. How did a three-letter word make him think of three thousand different things? Your smile, your laugh, your voice. The tingles that were sent up his spine when you touched him. His heart skipped a beat when you looked at him. You, the girl who made him happy.

His eyes drifted down to yours, and it was over. His lips caught yours in a hard kiss, driving them apart with the force of it. Now, there was nothing gentle about it. You felt the sink creak as you shifted, him pressing you against it.

Every thought in your head exploded to a pure, pounding white, and you felt the dark curl of desire begin to twist inside you, bending all your rules, snapping that last trembling bit of restraint. 

It was just like it had been before you slid your hands under his shirt to press him closer. The low groan at the back of his throat, a small, pleading noise that set every inch of your skin on fire.

To him, you were an electrical storm dazzling with light and intensity and he would gladly stand like a fool, arm outstretched, just to be struck down by you.

So he told you he would stay. He said: "Okay."

Jisung watched you today. 

As you turned through the pages of the book, you cried. 

You looked beautiful as he watched the different stages of your emotions. And one day he wanted to make you feel all those things. 

Emotions were a beautiful thing and he wanted to thank you for showing them. When he saw you cry, he had to fight the urge to run toward you and hold you. It was in his natural instinct to do so, but he didn't want to ruin it. Ruin how beautiful your eyes were as they shed a tear over the story you lived, over a character you loved. 

He looked at a tree wistfully, trying to keep his mind busy away from you. But even the simplest thing as a tree, allowed memories to flow in, full force. 

He remembered when he was about fourteen he ran away from home for the first time. The reasoning was stupid, probably over a small argument between his parents—but all Jisung remembered was that he didn't know where to go. 

So he came and sat under a sycamore tree, the peculiar sun beaming down on him.

It turned out that he wasn't the only one with that idea.

Under the sycamore tree, he found you reading, your hair was messily thrown into a ponytail, unaware of his presence just yet. He wanted to run up to you and spill whatever it was inside his busy mind, but you looked too peaceful and he didn't want to ruin it. 

So instead, under the sycamore tree, he watched the stars and talked about the meaning of life with someone he truly cared about. Soon enough he would end up ranting to you, you’d listen, and he’d thank you for that.

Under the sycamore tree, he looked at you, his best friend who he had never really given a second thought to, and felt his heart turn. You began to be everything he had wanted. He watched the sun set on the most beautiful pair of eyes he had probably ever seen.

Have you ever seen your own eyes? They were rich and bright, he could get lost in them. But on that particular night, when the leaves were falling all around you, your eyes were just pure, radiant gold. He got lost in the shadows of those eyes for the first time.

Your eyes were his favorite, you know?

He shook that memory away.

As your watery eyes scanned the page, you laughed and then smiled. The type of smile that started off from the side of your face and then stretched out entirely. At that moment, he knew that he had to have you. 

And he guessed he wouldn't stop until he could wake up to that smile. 

If he was being honest, he always thought he'd be alone. Surely the two of you were going to be best friends forever, but he knew that you’d find someone who really loved you the way you wanted to be loved. And deep down he knew he was never a part of that equation. 

That's how he lived ever since he chose to forget, and to be honest he liked it until he saw you. Until he really saw you. 

When he was younger, he wasn't afraid of anything. But then, everything changed. Suddenly he started to think that, he wanted to be better—do better. For the first time, the idea of being alone began to scare him. It was on his mind and he never felt that kind of feeling—until he was almost paralyzed.

Until he was looking at the sunset, with you by his side, your head on his shoulder. You both watched all the colors melt and everything seemed calm at that moment.

And he felt like he could actually breathe. The stars started to appear and he could feel it in his soul. 

He felt alive.

Now, it was until he heard the soft sound of your laughter. How your cheeks turned rosy pink as you blushed over a character. And until he saw your emotions, how they all came from that one book. 

The Silence Between Two Special Songs.

He remembered saying how much he hated that book before… and suddenly you changed him. 

Had you ever felt that way? Have you ever had your entire perspective of something change so quickly because of a person? Of course, you had.

He didn't want to be alone anymore. Being alone seemed even more lonely. He just wanted you. So today, you fell in love with a book and he fell in love with you falling for a book. 

And it was bad because he couldn't get you out of his mind for the rest of the day. 

He’d focus on the sounds of the floorboard creaking as you did whatever you needed to do in your room. He’d hear your muffled laughter and conversations you had on your phone, even though he tried his best to drown it out.

Jisung was so hyperaware around you that it was driving him crazy. Everything about you was a reminder. His bed, his sheets, the movies he saw, the music he listened to—quite literally everything you had shared together was tainted with the memory of you.

It was all too much for him, especially with a song due in a couple of days. He needed to get his work done but you were just so distracting, and you didn't even know it. 

This resulted in him making his way over to his best friend’s apartment. They’d be home and working on what he needed to be doing too, so this was the only plausible option. 

Chan opened the front door wide enough to let him in, “Hey Ji.”

“Thanks for letting me crash here tonight, I just need a space to work tonight peacefully. My apartment was just so loud I couldn't think straight.” Jisung rambled. 

It was obvious by the way color came back to his face that he finally took a breath—one he had been holding in all fucking day. 

Aside from Minho, Chan was also a quick study, able to know when things just weren't okay. In his nature, he was a problem solver and always wanted to be of help, offering the best solutions. 

But with this came along with being aware and respectful of boundaries, which was why he stopped himself from questioning his obviously frantic friend.

He watched as Jisung set his bag down on the couch, unsure of how to correctly approach the situation. “Do you want to watch something before we work? Maybe a movie? Bin suggested this short film that he watched earlier today was good. We can watch that, yeah?” 

Chan grabbed the disc from the coffee table. It’d be best to get whatever it was off Jisung’s mind, he thought.

Jisung wanted to say no so he could just finish the song that was due. But if he was being honest with himself, his mind was not in the correct place. So he plopped down onto the couch, complying.

Luckily the movie lasted an hour. Changbin had come home midway, bearing some chicken and beer that Chan texted him privately about to bring. The sinister music played as the movie ended, and white credits rolled down the screen.

“And that my boys, is why falling in love with someone is a no-go.” Changbin crossed his arms together. 

Chan cleared his throat, sipping on his can of beer. “Actually, love is a pretty nice thing.”

Changbin rolled his eyes, knowing where this was headed. “Chan just because you’re dating my sister doesn't mean this doesn't apply to you too.”

“So you want me to break your sister’s heart, Binnie?”

“You can try all you want.” Changbin waved off, although he knew his friend wouldn't do it. And he was right, Chan would never break her heart. He loved her so much that it consumed him. 

They wouldn't know yet, but Jisung was all too familiar with that feeling. He bitterly laughed, “Changbin, come back to us when you fall in love with someone.”

It was comical, the way Changbin laughed from his side of the couch. “And what do you know about love, Jisung? The last girl you dated was during our first year and you got the biggest ick after.”

Jisung waited a few moments before dropping his shoulders. What did he know about love, he wondered. Despite his only relationship lasting a couple of months, he could confidently say that he never even thought about the idea of love with them.

It wasn't that he was too young, he already felt love way before that. And now, it kind of made sense to him. It seemed as though the category of love had always been tucked away safely for you, and only you.

He grabbed the remote, pausing the movie that ran through its credits. "I guess when you love someone, they become a part of who you are. They're in everything you do. They're in the air you breathe and the water you drink and the blood in your veins.” 

He thought about you. You became more deep and meaningful. And when he was with you, that was probably the highlight of his day, just sitting next to you in silence made him happy. 

Surely that was when it was supposed to hit him—that he was supposed to realize that he might love you more than a friend because he couldn't get rid of the knot in his heart that he constantly felt around you.

Now, every touch, every hug, became so precious to him, because he finally understood what was happening to him. So no, he wasn't too young to know about love. She just wasn't you.

Jisung continued to speak, “Their touch stays on your skin and their voice stays in your ears and their thoughts stay in your mind. You know their dreams because their nightmares pierce your heart and their good dreams are your dreams too.” He had a sad smile as he reminisced on the dreams he had that were so vivid. “And I guess, although they don't think they're perfect, you know their flaws, the deep-down truth of them, and the shadows of all their secrets, and they are perfect to you; in fact, you love them more for it. You want them. You want-”

He broke it off then, realizing his friends were looking at him.

"You want what?" Changbin’s looked at him with enormous eyes.

"Nothing," Jisung said. "I'm just talking." And he shut off the TV and picked up the empty boxes and cans of beer. "I'm going to throw these away," he said, and left.

Changbin looked over at Chan who was still in the midst of attempting to process what just happened. "When he falls in love, it's going to be like…wow."

"Of course, then we'll probably never see him again," said Chan, looking after his friend from afar, who was in the kitchen tying the trash bag closed. "Lucky girl, whoever she'll be."

It was nearly midnight by the time the boys began to finally work on their music. Of course soon after, much to their demise, Changbin made an excuse to grab something from his room and ended up passing out on his bed.

The remaining two decided against waking him up as he probably would’ve been groggy and of no help at all. Writing songs was something that they had all been used to for years but having the experience never made it any easier. 

“I never knew you knew so much about love, Hanji.” Chan abruptly stated, leaning back in his chair with a sigh. He needed to give his mind a break or else it would've overclocked.

Jisung’s eyes widened slightly, flustered by the sudden conversation. “Oh,” he shrugged. “I don't know that much.”

His friend staggered a laugh, unable to believe him after what he heard earlier. “You sure? You seemed to take the words right out of my mouth if I'm being honest.”

He rolled his eyes playfully now, “I suppose I watch a lot of dramas.”

“I mean, it starts out with friendship it always does. But then it starts to bloom into something more, right?” Chan continued disregarding his friend’s excuse. It caused Jisung to raise his eyebrows, unsure of where Chan was headed. “At first, it’s always pointless banter and small talk, but slowly it progresses into long conversations about your past, and what you want for the future.”  

He paused waiting for Jisung to respond, but he didn't.

Chan hummed, “Well, that was the case with me. I thought that maybe it was the same in the dramas…” He picked up his phone to reply back to his girlfriend.

Jisung was hesitant in what he was about to admit. He wasn't sure if this was wise of him, quite frankly, he was not confident in how it will play out.

 Nonetheless, he emitted a long, deep, audible breath, “I slept with Y/N.”

“Don't you always?” Chan was unbothered, still typing away.

“No, I slept with her.” Jisung reiterated it, slowly.

He looked up from his phone, frozen. “Wait, what?”

Jisung put his hands on his head. His brain felt like it was going to explode. “I fucked up. I know. But—”

“Jisung, you need to explain what you just said. You had sex with Y/N?” Chan sat up, adamant in trying to understand where this was coming from. There was no way he was lying, it was evident by the way he was acting. But sex? It was far from what he had expected.

The boy sighed, “Twice. We had sex twice.”

“Fuck Ji.” Chan stood up, his mouth covered by his hand. 

“I know but I think we could’ve had something real,” Jisung confessed. “Maybe I’m wrong, but I think she could’ve loved me.” His world began to spin and spin. “She meant a lot to me. Every smile, every glance from across a room, every time she made me laugh so hard I couldn’t breathe meant a lot to me,” he said and smiled, but his eyes were in the midst of collecting a few tears.

Chan bent down where Jisung sat, still trying to grasp the information he was told. He was aware of his friend's crackling emotions. “Do you guys like each other? Where did all of this suddenly come from?”

He bitterly chuckled, “She doesn't like me.”

You always seemed too good for Jisung, and that had nothing to do with how you looked. You always put three sugars in your coffee because you couldn’t stand the bitter taste alone and you often smelled like lavender because once you read somewhere that lavender made people happier, and you liked to see the people around you smile.

“Then how di-”

Jisung shook his head, not wanting to stop expressing the truth despite it all. “She’s in love with Hyunjin.” His voice curdled into jealousy.

Chan sighed at the news. But wasn't Hyunjin with Bora? He was so confused but Jisung had become a fragile vase and he was scared of breaking him by asking too many questions. 

“The worst part is, I think I could still have kissed her all day though,” Jisung continued quietly. “I could have swept back the loose strands of hair from her eyes and spent the morning just like that.” He quickly wiped his eyes, “And maybe it was because there was too much sadness in her heart, but she kissed like she needed to be kissed—like she was aching all over.”

One could see it in Jisung’s eyes. you both weren't quite friends anymore. You both had crossed such a big boundary. The way he smiled with you? Friends didn't smile like that. The way he put his hand on your back? Friends didn't touch each other like that. The way his face lit up when you spoke? Friends didn't look at each other like that. The way his voice changed when he said your name? Friends didn't talk like that. 

Slowly, everything started to make sense to his friend.

“You love her, don't you?”

"For me, it was never a case of loving her. I’ve loved her my entire fucking life and I have never stopped,” Jisung exhaled, running a hand down his face. “I tried to let her go before—I told myself to think about everything my feelings for her had done to hurt me, but all I can think about was my smile in the mornings and my laughs late at night.”

He let out a broken whisper, continuing. “She was the reason for that, she made my days better. Sure, people have bad days but in the end, the good always outweighed them.” He pulled onto the drawstring of his hoodie gently, “I guess what I'm trying to say is that she was my good and everything in between.”

In Jisung’s pitiful mind, no matter how much he knew you were a bad idea, he couldn't completely give up on you. In the back of his mind, he believed that this was his second chance to do it all over again… but correctly. Correct enough to the point where you would be his.

It could be six a.m. and all he’d want to do is lay next to you with your hands locked together, and legs intertwined. He’d want your face buried in his neck, and he’d want to listen to your breathing. 

He’d want you to wake up and tell him, "I'm so tired" because he’d want to whisper, "Go back to sleep" and he’d want to hold you tighter when you did.

He’d want to lie in bed alone with you, in the comforting quiet of the early morning hours, and maybe write a song in his dreams while you both slept. 

He wanted to be simple with you, and he wanted to be whatever you need him to be. Because it was real for him. 

He didn't know what it was for you. But for him, it was real. Everything meant more than it should have. So much that he was willing to be with you forever. And that's what hurt the most.

He looked at you with what ifs and could haves and hearts full of regret.

“Back in high school, I tried to write a song about her,” Jisung admitted.

Chan continued to be weary of what he said. He needed to make sure that it wouldn't end up being the wrong thing. “Tried? You mean you finished it but it wasn't good enough?” And although he had so many questions, the best thing he could do right there was to listen to the boy.

“No, I didn't even finish it. I stopped writing it because I was wrong.” He scoffed. “I was so completely wrong about it all.”

You see, Jisung thought he could make it beautiful. He thought he could tear himself apart and make a mosaic out of the pieces. He thought the heartbreak was temporary, that the words could be beautiful enough to show just how liberating love could be despite the pain. He thought he could have roses without thorns.

There was just so much Jisung could say to his friend that he could've spent hours talking about it. It wasn't wise for him to do so, his emotions were all over the place and he needed to calm down.

He let out a breath, "I don't know.” He slumped over against the couch, his arm resting against his side. "Is this a mistake?" 

It took Chan a few moments to respond. "Of course it is,” he hummed. Jisung felt his heart drop at his answer. “You’re getting involved with your best friend, don't look too shocked... But, who knows?” 

Chan was trying his best to find the right thing to say to him and the boy waited to take in every word. 

"Who knows if something good will happen—or something worse. All I'm trying to say is that it's okay if you don't know what to feel or if you don't know what you want. Sometimes it's okay to not want something you worked so hard on getting after realizing it wasn't what you thought it was.” Chan clarified.

Jisung sighed, “I’m just scared.”

"It’s okay to be scared. You can change your mind or make however mistakes you want. It's your life and you don't need validation from anyone other than you." Chan patted his thigh, gently, giving him a soft smile. "But I just want you to know that it’s not selfish to love yourself, to take care of yourself, and make your happiness a priority." 

Jisung’s body began to heat up, his friend was right. 

It was four in the morning when he answered your text. He was sprawled out on the couch, wrapped in a blanket Chan had given him. After his conversation with him, Jisung was left with a much more sensible head than the one he came with. 

His eyes felt heavy and he just wanted slumber to come up and whisk him away. 

It was annoying though, every time he closed his eyes, he still thought of you. Everything was still fresh and maybe he needed time to figure things out more. 

Many years later and he still stayed up at night, your smile and laughter etched in his mind, wondering where you were and what you were doing, he’d smile to himself thinking of the memories with you. His heart yearned for you, to hold you close to him right now. 

You replied right as he was falling asleep. He sighed and read your message. 

you: you're up? 

The only people actually up this late were either heartbroken or in love. He rubbed his sleepy eyes and wrote back. 

jisung: yes. need to talk?

And you did. The both of you texted for what felt like hours and soon enough he could see the sky beginning to lighten from the living room window. 

He hugged the blanket tighter to his chest. When was he going to ever listen to something other than his heart? Because he loved you and he almost laughed at the thought of ever stopping.

It wasn't until five a.m. he realized that you were fast asleep and he wasn't. He was right back to where he was, every time. It seemed as though he had taken one step forward and two steps back.

This wasn't supposed to happen. He wasn't supposed to love you like this again. And he’d kept trying to make his love for you go away, he swore. But how do you kill a feeling? 

You still lived in the silence between his thoughts.

The only people up this late were the heartbroken and in love. And pathetically so, he was both.

let me know your thoughts about this chapter! i’m interested to hear your opinions :) stay healthy <3

masterlist

taglist: (pls lmk if i missed you or if ur interested!)

@hyynee @keilykat @chxrry-holland @sikebishes @soobin-chois @drhsthl​ @ooshanaya @rindomo @chxrry-chris

#stray kids #skz han jisung #skz fanfic #skz imagines #skz #han jisung #han jisung fanfic #han jisung smut #han jisung imagines #han jisung x reader #hyunjin fanfic #hyunjin imagines #series #friends to lovers #chapter 3

[sweetsungie]

i’m hoping that me saying part 3 will come out tmrw will actually allow me to finish it ^^ 

p.s. ty so much for all ur kind words abt my hanji fic! i read them all and i feel so warm and full of love ahhh <333 yall r amazing!!! 

#too busy watching variety shows

[sweetsungie]

screaming crying and absolutely loving your hanji fic

and i’m sliding down my wall bc ur the sweetest 🧍‍♀️💗