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mingigoo · 16 days

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oh shit, are we in love? || Jongho (m.)

🏀 pairing ⇢ cheerleader! (fem) reader x best friend/basketball player! Jongho

🏀 summary ⇢ you’ve called Jongho your best friend all your life. You were attached at the hip for ages, and even as you take on college together. With no other relationship experience other than with him, when you decide to go after a cute classmate, you look to Jongho for some help. Asking him to practice “things” with you seemed like nothing—that is, until kissing him made you think that you couldn’t kiss anyone else.

🏀 genre/au ⇢ best friends to lovers, college au, smut, fluff

🏀 warnings/tags ⇢ 18+ MINORS DNI, unprotected sex, oral sex (male recieving), cum shot, Jongho is a virgin, also is a slut for y/n, drinking, mentions of knee injury, best friends to lovers, college love, cheerleader x basketball player

🏀 word count ⇢ 15.8k (so sorry I just couldnt stop)

🏀 taglist ⇢ @jjhmk @yukine-smx @roe-sinning @meowmeowminnie @yeritheloml @y00nzin0 @yesv01 @halesandy @shegotboreddsoo @kangyeosangelic @gayliljoong @sanshineeeeee @kodzukein @baguette-atiny @seokwoosmole @nyeatinyjunkie @juliettechokilo @pockyddalgi @justaqueerbufoin @hwaightme @likexaxdaydream @ssaboala @gtr-skyline-lover @miriamxsworld @daegale @knucklesdeepmingi @naiify @yeoyeoland @arya9111 @mdibby @8tinytings @angelicyeo @wooyoungjpg @lonewolfjinji @asjkdk @charreddonuts @mangishii @yeoyeoland @pink-hwaberry @wooyoluvrr @maru-matt @pearltinyy @loveuwoo @m3chigo @northerngalxy @silverpixiedust23 @interweab @skz1-4-3 (if I missed you please lmk!! bold = can’t tag)

spotify playlist

When you were kids, Jongho gave you a ring—a ring made out of straw paper he kept after a trip to get milkshakes after school.

With the paper straw ring, he stuck it on your ring finger. The wrong one, but that didn't matter to him, anyway. He declared to you that he would marry you someday. Someday, whatever that meant to a young kid. With the ring already on your finger, you couldn't exactly decline his proposal, so you just shrugged and told him, “Why not?”

At seventeen, you went to prom together. Not because you liked each other, no. Because it was convenient, it made sense. How could you go with someone else? You wore a beautiful red gown, Jongho matching you with a patterned red tie. You had a great time, went home together, and nearly kissed at your doorstep—you didn't think too much of it. You blamed it on the atmosphere. So did he.

You sat at your desk in your cramped dorm room, your bed pushed up on the left side of the room and a mess of pillows and blankets covering it.

Suddenly, as you were finally getting to the good part in your book, Jongho barged into your room, dropping his basketball bag onto the floor with a groan. He tossed his slides off, not even meeting your gaze before walking like a zombie towards your messy bed, throwing himself on top.

“Well hello to you too,” you blinked, losing your page in your book. “Get out of my damn bed, you're sweaty as fuck.”

He huffed, crossing his muscular arms across his chest, staring up at the glow stars you put on the ceiling. “Leave me be. My roommate is fucking some chick right now. I just need to lay down.”

“San seems like he gets around a lot,” you scoffed, picking up your book again. You were currently reading a very, very smutty book—although you were supposed to be studying your literature anthology text for the exam you had in the morning. You flipped a page.

“Oh, he does,” Jongho sniffed. You looked over at him, his cut-off t-shirt revealing a good bit of skin on his side, his sweat gleaming on his body. “I mean, practice just ended. He had to have the damn girl in there even before he got back. It’s ridiculous.”

He sat up now, putting his back against his headboard. He winced a bit as he moved, his hand going to the brace around his knee.

You paused, completely forgetting the smut you were reading. “What is it? Is it hurting again?”

“Just a little, it’s no biggie.” Jongho offered you a smile, but it looked more like a grimace. “Don't give me that look, y/n. I hurt it a while ago. It's normal for it to ache occasionally.”

Back in your senior year, he tore his ACL before the season, causing him to never have his final year of basketball. He was a mess, but at least he had you. He got surgery, had physical therapy, but yet, he still has pain to this day.

You met his eyes for a moment, sighing when that gorgeous smile of his poked through his lips. “Fine, fine. Just get outa here when you can. I got some…important things to do alone tonight.”

He furrowed his brows, confused. “What could you possibly…..oh,” he shut his eyes painfully. “Please, I don't want to imagine it.” He scooted back down on the bed and tossed your blanket on top of him. “My eyes, my eyes.”

“Oh, shut up, you pussy.” You set your book down, crossing your legs. “A girl gotta live out her fantasies somehow, alright?”

“La la la,” he repeated, trying his best to ignore the conversation. “I don't wanna hear it.”

You let out a chuckle, stood up from your seat, and tossed yourself onto the bed with him, tackling him as he thrashed from your grip.

“Stop it, stop it,” he groaned, wriggling away from your hands as you tickled him. He giggled, childlike. You giggled right along with him, not even caring about the damn sweat that coated his skin, his clothes. You tangled together under the blanket, and after a good couple minutes of a tickle fight, you grabbed your laptop to watch your favorite TV show.

Jongho stayed under the blankets with you, his leg strewn on top of your body, his head in the crook of your neck as you watched the show together. He let out a few snide comments—earning a slap from you, but he just chuckled and nuzzled closer into you.

And after a few episodes, he fell asleep on you, legs tangled in yours, your arm wrapped around him.

—

“Dude, you wouldn't answer your phone last night,” Wooyoung mumbled as he stuffed a couple of chips into his mouth. “Do you literally have a new bitch every night?”

You and your friends were sitting at a table in the dining hall, munching on some lunch before you had class. Wooyoung, San, and Mingi sat across from you and Jongho, all of them in workout gear—they were going to the gym after lunch.

“Listen, last night wasn't even that good,” San hummed dully, taking a sip of his protein shake. “She was too damn loud—”

“I thought you liked them whiny,” Mingi deadpanned.

San’s eyes narrowed on the giant. “Your point? She was loud, not whiny—there’s a difference.” San looked to Jongho now, a slight smirk on his pretty little lips. “Where’d you go? You could've joined us.”

Jongho waved his hands sporadically. “No, no, I’d rather not, thank you.”

San huffed playfully, eyes dancing to you. They glimmered knowingly. “Ah, you’d rather be in her bed, right?” he nodded his head towards you, earning a harsh glare from Jongho.

“So what if I'm in her bed, it’s not like we do anything.” Jongho’s eyes went frantic, and his fists balled. “We’ve always slept with each other—wait, that came out wrong—”

“What he’s trying to say is that we’ve slept in the same bed since we were little, that nothing is ever gonna happen,” you interjected, crossing your arms across your chest.

San laughed at that. “Ah yeah, that nothing’s gonna happen, gotcha,” he said, taking the last sip of his protein shake. I’m going to the gym if you guys are ready. Jongho, y/n, you coming?”

You shook your head, but stood up with everyone else, anyway. “I have class, but you guys have fun. I’ll walk out with you.”

As you and your friends left the dining hall, the cool, winter air breezed through you, sending chills down your spine. Your winter coat wasn't enough. You shoved your hands into your pockets, walking stiffly next to jongho, who simply—possibly even without thinking, tossed his arm around your shoulder, warming you up instantly. Your friends continued to talk and carry on, and you snuggled up into Jongho’s warm side.

—

Class was a bore. As per usual. The spring semester had just started, and the new classes you had were far from entertaining. Anything to get through school, though.

As you packed up your things, a phone fell from the seat in front of you, landing right by your feet. You picked it up, but when the person was no longer sitting there, you quickly tossed your bag over your shoulder to follow him.

“Hey, excuse me!” you huffed, chasing after the guy—damn, his legs were long. He moved way too fast for you. “Your phone….dude!” you finally reached him, tapping him on the shoulder, only for the most gorgeous man to grace the earth to turn around.

You forced yourself to keep your jaw from falling to the floor as you met his dark eyes. His hair was even darker, his lips a soft pink, curling up slightly.

“I’m sorry,” you breathed, holding up the phone. “But you dropped this.”

The pretty guy blinked, smirking. The classroom emptied as you stood staring at each other, oblivious to the professor giving you a side-eye as he left.

“I don't think that’s mine,” he said blandly, but his eyes glimmered mischievously. He looked a bit older—definitely older than you, at least.

You furrowed your brows, looking at the phone in your hands. “I could've sworn you were the one sitting in front of me,” you wondered, confused. You pushed it forward into his chest. “Just take it I don't have time to find the owner if it's not yours.”

He smiled down at you, his thick eyebrows raising. “I won't take it.”

“Why the hell not?” your patience was running thin—you had to get the cheer practice. This stupidly pretty guy was not allowed to make you late. You were not running laps. Not today.

You were about to just shove it into his pockets until his mouth opened. “Not without your number.”

You frowned. “Is that….is that supposed to be a pickup line?”

He shrugged. “If you want it to be, then yes.”

God, the smile this damn boy had. You were gonna crumble under his gaze like some schoolgirl, but you kept your cool.

His eyes were so bright, so clear. He was tall, much taller than you, much older. You watched as he looked around, away from you. “If not, then I’ll just take the phone back—”

“No, no,” you laughed awkwardly, looking at the phone in your hands. “You just…you’ll just need to unlock it.”

He smiled gorgeously. “I can do that.”

He took the phone, typed in a few numbers, and gave it right back to you. “What’s your name?”

“y/n,” you hummed, forcing your blush away. This was the first time you had been asked for your number, the first time a guy other than Jongho or your friends had looked at you. “You?”

“Seonghwa,” the pretty boy smiled, a name now to the face. You couldn't help but grin at his expression—and the utter insanity that just happened. It was totally random; a pretty guy asking for your number? That’s never happened in all your years. Never.

“If I ask to buy you a coffee,” he started as you fumbled on your phone number. “Would you say yes?”

“Depends,” you shrugged, unable to look up at him. “If you get me food, too.”

“Deal.” Goddamn, that smile, those teeth. “Tomorrow, after class? Before class?”

You bit your lip, handing the phone back to him. “Before, I have practice after class.” actually, you had practice like, right now. You probably looked crazy, eyes wide as you realized where you needed to be. “I gotta go—speaking of which—”

Before you could leave, he called for you. “Hey, where should we meet?”

“Outside the library?” you tossed out, hoping he answered hastily.

He nodded, giving you that smile once again.

“Perfect.”

—

You were in bed after practice, and Jongho was sitting quietly on your desk chair, slowly taking off his knee brace and hissing.

“God, this thing sucks,” he groaned, the velcro tearing as he peeled it off. The brace was like a metal cage, going from his thigh to his lower calf, looking like a deathtrap.

“And it stinks,” you mumbled dramatically, staring up at your ceiling, hands folded on your stomach as your mind wandered. You sat up quickly, startling your best friend.

“What? What is it?” he spat out, running a hand through his sweaty hair. “You just sat up like a goddamn zombie.”

“If, let’s just say, hypothetically,” you wondered, looking out into space. “That I got asked out on a date to a coffee shop, how would I dress?”

Jongho’s eyes widened. “You got asked out? You?” he asked incredulously.

You scoffed, looking over at him with a playful sneer. “Is that so hard to believe?”

He laughed, finally taking off his brace and setting it on the side of your desk. “Oh yeah—y/n, you’ve never once gone on a date in all of our years of friendship. It's shocking.”

You blinked at him, gripping a pillow from behind you and tossing it at him. Of course, he caught it.

“I’m just saying—”

“Okay, but for real,” you groaned, shifting to get comfy again. “You’ve been on some dates, how did the girls usually dress for them? Did you ever go on a coffee date—”

“Who’s the guy?” he huffed out, completely ignoring your worries.

You flattened your lips. “Does that matter?”

“Uh, yeah. What if the guy is a scumbag?” Jongho leaned back in the chair, stretching out his arms.

“He’s definitely not a scumbag,” you sighed, thinking of how dreamy he looked, missing Jongho’s worried expression. “Anyway, you didn't answer my question.”

You couldn't figure out the look on your best friend’s face. He knitted his brows, his eyes raising to yours. “Just dress normally,” he spoke softly. “When’s your date?”

“Tomorrow.” You hopped off your bed and walked towards your closet across from Jongho. He followed you as you moved and hesitated to look as you tore off your top, leaving you standing in your sports bra.

Jongho gulped but rolled his eyes playfully. “Why do you always undress in front of me?” His eyes naturally dropped to your hips as you slid off your sweatpants. “I am a man, too, you know.”

“Pfft, man, my ass,” you turned your back to him as he tried his best not to look. You grabbed a t-shirt—his t-shirt that you kept from a while ago—and tossed it on. You didn't even bother with pants.

Jongho gave you a look as you turned to face him. “My shirt? Really?” He groaned, mouth parted as he looked at you. “Where the hell are your pants?”

“I don't like pants.”

“Then put shorts on—”

“Is it a crime to sleep in my underwear? God, at least I have something on, dammit.” you walked past him and hopped back onto your bed. “I could be completely naked—this is my room, remember?”

Jongho didn't change his expression—he blinked at you while you sat on the bed, bare-legged, the skin up to the top of your thigh visible. He took in a gulp. “I, uh, I got an assignment due at midnight. I’m gonna head back to my room.”

You shrugged and shuffled into bed to get comfy. “Have fun with that, babycakes,” you said, giving him a wink, but he ignored it and left your room without another look.

—

Maybe it was a bad idea to wear jeans on a day like today.

A day when you woke up painfully bloated, bleeding, and aching from your period. Out of all the days, you had to get it today.

You stood outside the library, your back against the red brick building. You wore a cute pink top with the flared jeans you were struggling with, and you added a cute little bow to hold your hair back.

You saw Seonghwa walk up to you. His lower half was also dawned in wonderfully-fitting jeans. They hugged his thighs, loosening a bit at his knees, and fell over a pair of sparkling clean white sneakers that looked like they were worth more than your car.

The white shirt was also slim against his lean frame. You held back any reaction you had like a damn cat in heat. “Hey,” he started as he neared. “Ready to go? We can go to the coffee shop on campus since we have class coming up.”

You nodded, hoping to god the smile on your face was not grimace-like.

“Yep, let’s go.”

You sat with your hands in your lap, fiddling with your fingers anxiously as Seonghwa waited for your drinks. You looked over at him, watching his figure lean against the closest wall, how his long, long legs looked in those damn pants, how his fingers tapped against his arm as he waited. You barely knew him, nothing much other than knowing his name and now his coffee order, and you wondered what it would be like to get to know him.

When he sat down in front of you, he handed you your coffee, a bright, blinding smile on his face. “I pegged you as the type to like ridiculously flavored seasonal drinks….” he paused, smirking, as you froze mid-sip on your….seasonal drink. Highly, highly sugary seasonal drink. “Guess I’m a good judge of character.”

You swallowed the party of sugar and cinnamon before giving him a shy smile. “I’m a sucker for them, to be honest.”

You sat quietly for a good while, sipping on your drink, him sipping on his. The feeling was…nice. However, you were a bit anxious as he looked at you, at your lips, as you drank from the straw.

“You’re a cheerleader for the basketball team, right?” He tilted his head slightly, looking at you. “I feel like I’ve seen you somewhere—besides class, I mean.”

You nodded. “Yep, I cheer for the basketball team,” you took another sip of your drink. “Do you play? I think I would've seen you before, though.”

“Actually,” he started, offering you a kind smile. “I just transferred in from another university. I start official practice today, but I’ve been to many games already.”

Oh, so he’d seen you and known that you were on the cheer squad even before he approached you?

Cute.

“Oh, wow,” you smiled, leaning closer without realizing it. “So, will you be playing in the next game, then?”

“Yes,” he looked ecstatic, like he can't wait. “We’ll see how much playing time I actually get, though. Those guys are very good—”

“Oh, I know!” you didn't mean to interrupt him, but you would take any chance to brag about your Jongho. “My best friend is the point guard.”

“You know Jongho?” Seonghwa smiled, but it looked a bit weary. “He’s a great guy.”

“He really is.” you took a large sip of your coffee, meeting Seonghwa’s gaze as you did it. His gaze fluttered to your lips once more, and he licked his own.

He tapped against the wooden table. “Would you….want to do this again?”

You raised your brows. “This? You mean, getting coffee?”

“Not exactly,” he blinked, letting out a little chuckle. “Anything, just…we can hang out more, if you're down with that.”

Your heart fluttered a bit. “Ah, yeah, I would like that.”

He smiled. “Good,” he looked at the clock on the wall near your seat. “We gotta get to class.”

“Class, yeah, that’s right,” you were lost in his gaze, not even realizing how captivating his entire being was. You followed him out of the coffee shop, walking next to each other, until you got to the classroom.

He took the seat next to you this time, and you were beginning to suffocate from the feeling of his body being so close.

—

“I think I’m doomed.”

Jongho, like always, is in your room when you come back from practice. He sat up from his lazy position on your bed, eyebrows raised.

“Why’s that?”

You huffed, tossing your cheer bag onto the floor next to your desk. “What if he kisses me? I’ve never kissed anyone, fuck, I bet I’ll look like a fish trying to gulp fucking water—”

“God, you’ve been here for not even a minute, and you're blabbing on like a maniac already.” He blinked, his face deadpanned as he looked at you. “Why are you so concerned? Did the date go well?”

You groaned dramatically, tossing off your sneakers, and balancing yourself on the back of your desk chair. “He asked me for another date, but I know damn well what that means, and I can't let him find out that I am a twenty-something-year-old virgin that’s only ever kissed books and my mother.”

Jongho looked like he was about to burst out laughing at your desperate words, biting the inside of his cheek. He managed to squeak out, “Oh, I think you’re a lost cause,” he giggled. Giggled.

“This is not funny. You're no help,” you groaned, tossing your head back as you walked to your closet—when a perfect idea came to you.

“Wait a damn minute–”

“What is it now?” Jongho sat up on your bed, legs dangling off the side.

You turned around sharply, facing him, eyes wide with mischief. His eyes widened at your expression.

“Lend me your lips,” you said, walking up to him, but he leaned back in confusion, his arms holding himself behind him.

“What?” He scoffed, unable to meet your gaze. “The hell do you mean?”

You leaned over him on the bed, him unable to lean any further back without falling. You held yourself up on both sides of him. “Oh, come on. Just once. You can help me learn how to kiss. Who else could?”

He furrowed his brows. “You’re crazy.”

“I know,” you shrugged. “But I’d rather die than embarrass myself.”

“You do know,” He started, letting out a sigh. “That friends don't kiss each other? Or did you miss that memo?”

“I swear it won't mean anything,” you pleaded, knowing you were acting crazy, immature, whatever.

Jongho huffed, leaning forward, but grabbing your shoulders to move you away. “Listen,” he sighed, meeting your eyes. “Why don't you go ask San or Mingi?”

“Because San scares me,” you shrugged. “He’d probably eat me. And Mingi is….Mingi….”

“What does that even mean—”

“For fuck’s sake, Jongie,” you grabbed his shoulders. “Is this asking too much? We’ve been best friends for so long. How would something so trivial as a kiss mess with it?”

Jongho looked like he had something to say—a lot to say, actually. But he stayed quiet, sighing, as he looked up at you from his seated position on the bed.

“Okay, but if I have to kiss someone as filthy as you,” he huffed, crossing his arms. “What do I get out of it?”

You hummed. “Hmm. well, what do you want?”

He smiled mischievously. “Do my paper for me. For my lit class.”

“Easy, done,” you leaned forward. “Now gimme your lips—”

“Ah ah ah, slow down,” he scoffed. “You can't just toss yourself into the kiss. You have to lead into it.”

“Got it,” you blinked, looking into his golden brown eyes, noticing how…nice they were. “How do I do that?”

“Well, I bet he’ll try to kiss you first,” Jongho ran a hand through his fluffy brown hair, matching his eyes. You took note of it, too. He stood up, causing you to subconsciously step away from him. You both now stood in the middle of your dorm room, the room dimly lit by your desk lamp, the warm hue coloring the tanned skin of his face.

“Okay,” you nodded, almost freaking yourself out for noticing his details, the slight curve of his lips, the way his hair fell across his forehead.

Jongho’s calloused hand slowly, hesitantly, moved towards your face. You watched his eyes as his fingertips brushed your skin, watching them scrunch, watching them focus on his movements. “Maybe he’d hold you like this,” he spoke softly, eyes jumping to yours, his hand twitching slightly.

“But what do I do?” you weakly jutted out, biting the corner of your bottom lip. “Do I…touch you—touch him, too?”

He shrugged, swallowing hard. “I mean, you do what comes naturally.”

He was so close. So close. It's not like you’ve never been closer to him, because you have, but something was suffocating. Maybe this wasn't a good idea.

Maybe this is just how it’s supposed to feel.

You stared into his eyes, those brown eyes, those….sparkling, pretty eyes. You swallowed as his hand slid down to your chin, tilting it up softly.

There was an unknown emotion dancing in his gaze. You were extremely aware of the spark that was setting off from his touch.

He leaned in closer, and as he got closer and closer, you felt your heartbeat flutter in your chest. You heard it in your ears, felt your stomach tighten.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” he said hushedly. You noticed that the tips of his ears were flushed red, and a dusting of the color was across his cheeks. When he pressed his lips to yours, you widened your eyes from the feeling, then shut them to savor it.

His mouth moved across yours, you felt the warmth of his lips, the softness of them. His other hand—the one that wasn't holding onto your chin, rested around your hip, his grip tightening.

You froze under his lips, unsure of how to do this. You moved your mouth against his, then, trying to move with his movements. You hesitantly wrapped your arms around his neck, unsure of what to do with them if you didn't do that. You felt a small smile in his kiss.

You pressed your body into him as his lips parted against yours. You felt the soft tickle of his shaky breaths against your skin—you could only imagine what you felt like to him.

He parted from you, only slightly, and took a sharp inhale. You still had your eyes shut tight, lips parted, as you got lost in the feeling.

You opened them, meeting his gaze, meeting that heart-shattering look he had. His lips were red like his ears, like his cheeks. His eyes were hazy, his hands still on you. You felt your heart crumbling inside you.

Without another word, you leaned back up to him, awkwardly wrapping your hand around his neck, fingers tangling into his hair. He shut his eyes, and let out a pleasured sound, stirring something, awakening something inside.

You kissed him this time, even knowing that you had no idea what you were doing. You just trusted these instincts you were feeling, the emotions that were overtaking your mind. Your body told you to part your lips against his sweet lips, to savor the slightly salty taste against them. To lean into his body. You couldn't help but allow yourself to touch his waist, gliding your hand down his abs, his stomach, feeling his muscles tighten under your touch.

He sighed into your mouth, his hands gripping your waist, his fingertips brushing the bare skin under your blouse. His lips felt so good, so soft, so electrifying. This feeling was unlike any other, you were beginning to lose your breath, your senses, your mind.

And when you let out a little moan—without intending to, you were shocked back to reality. You pulled away from him quickly, moving your hands to your sides, trying to catch your breath. Jongho was also huffing, begging for oxygen, as he stood in front of you. His lips were bright red now; his eyes were wide.

“Ah, um,” you cleared your throat, forcing out a laugh. “So, did I do a good job?”

Jongho blinked, still looking out of it. “Huh? Oh, uh, yeah.” He swallowed, nodded, and crossed his arms across his chest. “Mhm. For your first kiss, you did good.”

Good? Good? God, that felt euphoric. Like you were drugged, high, out in space. You still couldn't get your heartbeat to slow. “Great.” That was all you managed to squeak out, now that you were suddenly aware of the ability to just kiss him again. You realized that the air was odd now, that something felt different.

“You tasted like sweat,” you playfully added, letting out an awkward laugh as you gave him a shoulder punch. “Maybe I should've kissed San or Mingi instead.”

“I am a great kisser, I’ll have you know—” Jongho boasted, but you interrupted him.

“Pfft,” you waved a hand as if you weren't just about to hyperventilate from his kiss, his touch. “You sucked, you’re a horrible teacher—”

“Oh?” he huffed, gripping your arms just below your elbows. “I’ll kiss you again, I’ll prove it, I’ll do you one better—”

“Fine! More practice for me, anyway.”

Jongho let out a grumble of incoherent words before grabbing you by the back of the neck and pressing his mouth to yours once more, his lips gliding against yours.

You grabbed the fabric of his shirt, tightening your grip as he pushed his tongue through your lips, into your mouth. You let out a sigh as he did it, his fingertips gripping your hair on the back of your head.

After a long few minutes of eating each other, He pulled away this time. He let go of you, his hands falling at his sides. “There,” he breathed. “Now you know how to handle a kiss like that. You know, just in case.”

You licked your bottom lip, sparks still flying around your body. You tasted him still, the saltiness of his sweat. You smelled the woodsy cologne he used, the minty taste of gum.

“Thanks,” you smiled, trying your best not to let these thoughts of him overtake you. “For helping me with this. You’re such a good best friend.”

“Ah, yeah,” he sniffed, forcing a smile. “I should, uh. I should go, I have something to submit before midnight, so,” He gulped, taking a step away from you. “But happy to help, of course. Now you owe me my paper.”

“Aye, aye, captain,” you scoffed, smiling playfully as he walked to the door to put on his shoes.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” he called out as he opened the door, leaving after you offered him a wave goodbye.

And once the door shut, you nearly lost your breath, falling onto your bed.

“Oh god,” you breathed, putting a hand to your mouth. “What was that? I—ugh!” you groaned, thrashing your legs around. “Why the fuck was he so hot? Get a grip, get a grip.” you ran your hands aggressively through your hair and gripping it. “Fuck I think my brain lost too much oxygen.”

You couldn't sleep one bit—not at all. Every time you closed your eyes, all you saw was Jongho, and all you felt was him.

—

A few days pass and you barely see your best friend.

It's not that he’s ignoring you or vice versa; it's that he had an away game a good distance away and was off campus for a good few days.

While he was gone, you wondered if he was thinking the same way you were, if he felt something, too, or if it was just normal to have feelings during a kiss.

Irritated by your stupid mind, you were unsure about the feeling in your chest when you saw Jongho in the library; his baseball hat flipped backwards over his soft brown hair.

You would look odd if you ran away, right? Right.

You strutted over to where he was sitting. He always loved the window seats, mainly to people watch. You sat down in the seat across from him.

“When’d you get back?”

He lifted his eyes to yours. “Last night,” he grumbled, flipping a page in the book in front of him.

“What are you reading?” you leaned forward on your elbows.

He reacted much worse than you thought, flying backward into his chair, a terrified look on his face.

“Yo, I’m not gonna bite you, Jeez,” you raised a brow, moving your gaze to the book. “Oh, ew, anatomy. No thanks.”

He scoffed, picking off an invisible—or maybe an extremely small—piece of lint from his black hoodie. He didn't say anything in response, he just continued what he was doing.

“So,” you tried to continue the conversation with him without it turning to mush. “I’m gonna be going to Seonghwa’s frat tonight. There's a party or something.”

He looked at you with shock. “You’re going to a party?”

“Is that so hard to believe?” you rolled your eyes, leaning back to cross your arms around your chest. Jongho’s vision dipped to the movement.

“Well, given that you hate crowded places,” he trailed off, not really having another excuse. “I just can't see you going to—”

“y/n?” a voice softly murmured from your left, and both you and Jongho turned to see Seonghwa walking up to your table, a bag slung across his broad shoulder. His hair was pulled up in a half up half down do, little black strands framing his unfathomable face.

Jongho, in the corner of your eye, looked away from the tall basketball player, opting for the view outside the library.

“Seonghwa?” you smiled, uncrossing your arms to look less like a grumpy bitch. “What’s up?”

You didn't even look to see the irritation on Jongho’s face.

“I was coming in to study but then I saw you in the corner of my eye,” he smiled, beamed, really, adjusting the bag on his shoulder. He then nodded to Jongho, offering him a smile, too. “Hey, Jongho.”

Your best friend managed to give him a smile back, although you knew his face all too well—that was a damn grimace. “Hey.”

You looked between the two boys as seonghwa spoke again. “Hey, me and y/n are gonna be at the party tonight. You wanna come? The other guys on the team will be there, too.”

“Well, I can't imagine San missing a function,” Jongho scoffed, cracking his knuckles aggressively. “But I guess I’ll come, too.”

You nearly dropped your jaw onto the floor.

“Really?” you interjected, shocked. “I can't imagine you going to a party—”

“Anyway,” Jongho cleared his throat, ignoring you. “What time?”

Seonghwa furrowed his brows as he tried to recall. “Uh, I think ten? It goes till two, no later,” He looked to you then. “Do you wanna go for some lunch?”

You blushed. Jongho huffed. “Oh, yes. That would be nice,” you smiled, to which Jongho rolled his eyes in response. You stood up from your seat and offered your best friend a playful wink. “See you tonight, jongie.”

When you walked away, seonghwa slugged an arm around your shoulder on the way out. Jongho, still in his seat, tightened his grip on the textbook as he watched you leave.

And then he couldn't even enjoy people-watching when he saw you walk down the sidewalk with that string bean.

—

You didn't hear from jongho the rest of the day, and even when ten o’clock came, he was M.I.A. You shrugged it off, trying too hard to ignore the tug in your chest, the desire to go to his room and kiss him again.

You made it to the frat house that sat on the end of the Greek life strip in town. It was a tall, skinny building that looked way too nice to be lived in by a bunch of boys. You made sure to wear your filthy Converse, knowing damn well whether booze, puke, or a plethora of other fluids would end up all over them. Despite not going to many parties in your lifetime, you still had common sense.

You walked into the house, getting bombarded with tons of odd smells, some good and some bad. The interior was dark, lit with random colored lights that danced all over the walls, the people.

Loud, ungodly music blared through oddly positioned speakers in the wall, and there was a sea of people talking and carrying on. You weren't sure how the fuck they could hear each other over the awful music.

You walked further into the house, making a B-line to where you assumed the alcohol was. There was a bunch of beer cans, and you grabbed one with ease, cracking it open and chugging it like a champ. However, the beer sucked ass, leaving an awful taste in your mouth. You must've made a face.

“Icky?” Seonghwa’s smooth voice envelopes you with comfort.

You turn to him, offering him a sincere smile. He looked great, as always, with his hair growing even longer. “Very, but if it gets me drunk, I’ll handle it.”

“So brave,” he chuckled, standing closer to you by the second. Your mind wanders to the thought of him touching you. Would it feel as good as it did with Jongho? Would his hands be gentle? Would his lips taste as sweet?

His hand on the small of your back interrupted your thoughts.

You needed to be drunk. Quick, so you can handle these stupid ideas.

“It’s good to see you here,” he starts, but you can't help but look at his lips. You weren't thinking about them—no, rather, you were thinking of Jongho’s. Would Seonghwa feel the same?

You took another sip of your drink to get the last drop before grabbing another. “Do they have something else? This shit sucks.”

Seonghwa looked at you for a long moment before nodding in a direction. “There’s vodka in the cabinet if you want it?”

You let out a sigh of relief, but still, you kept drinking the shitty beer. “Yes, god, yes.”

After you got ahold of the vodka, you regretted your choice against the beer.

You must've blacked out for a bit—you don't remember how you got in the living room, how you got onto Seonghwa’s lap, how his lips were on your neck. You delightfully craned your neck to feel it better, to feel his hot breaths, his hands on your waist. However, when you opened your eyes, you realized that you were imagining someone else under you.

You pulled away from him, but you didn't get off him. You looked into his eyes, seeing the desire drip from them. You were too messed up—blame that on your shitty tolerance, to care what you were doing right now. “Can I try something?” you fluttered your eyelashes, not meaning it in a sultry way, but it came out that way.

“Of course,” Seonghwa mused, a little smile prickling at his lips.

Lips that you wanted to kiss—not because you needed to, but because you needed to see something, feel something—have something to compare to that ethereal experience you had with your best friend.

And at his approval, you leaned forward, doing everything that you were taught, and pressed your lips to Seonghwa’s. He responded well, gripping the back of your head as he kissed you back, and you slid your tongue in his mouth, half expecting to feel something, anything.

But there you were, imagining Jongho, his smell, his taste, the way he cautiously touched you and held you. Nothing can compare, not even this.

You pulled away from him, eyebrows raised, mouth agape. He looked confused at your reaction but put on a sloppy smile. “Everything okay?”

You were going to say no. you were going to cry out and say that you were going to die because you kept thinking about Jongho. You couldn't even kiss a hot guy, a guy you wanted to date, without thinking how much better it felt with Jongho. Everything felt better with him. It was comfortable, unnerving, exciting, all at the same time.

You smiled, but with how drunk you were, you could assume that it looked like a grimace. “I uh, yeah, I just gotta….go do something—-bye,” you huffed out, offering him a little, awkward wave, before you ran out of the spinning room.

You ended up on the back porch, not sure how you got there, but the world was spinning. Your chest was aching. You needed air, anything, you needed to breathe.

The cool air hit you just right, enveloping your lungs, helping you breathe. Your skin was hot, flaming underneath your clothes, and you were sure your cheeks were bright red. After noticing a couple making out in the corner, you grimaced and ran back into the house.

God, what a shitshow.

You avoided seonghwa narrowly, making your way up the creaky, thin staircase to get your own space. You opened the first door you got to, tossed yourself in, and slammed your back against the door with a sigh of relief.

That relief didn't last long.

“y/n, what the hell?” Jongho nearly screeched, turning his body slightly as he stood over the toilet, zipping up his pants in a frenzy. “The fuck? Don't you know how to knock?”

You didn't say anything. You just took a deep breath, your gaze falling over him.

“y/n?” He repeated, standing a bit awkwardly on the other side of the room, leaning over to flush the toilet. He looked a bit rough around the edges as he washed his hands quickly, looking over at you as he dried them. He walked up to you now, hesitantly, unsure about your expression.

You fiddled with your fingers as the world slowed around you.

“Are you gonna talk?” He scoffed playfully, his eyes raking your body, forcing themselves up to your face. “Are you okay?”

“No,” you swallowed, shaking your head, the door behind you the only thing holding you up.

He gave you a concerned look, running a damp hand through his silky hair, and you couldn't help but think about how wonderful it would be to rake your hands through it, too. “No, that you're not okay, or no, that you’re not gonna talk?

You blinked. “....yes.”

He sighed. His eyes looked hazy, not quite to the extent yours probably looked, but still, he was not in his right mind, either. You took a shaky breath, watching those brown irises fall to your lips, to your chest.

You clench your fingers together, your body, dying to do something your heart would regret. You swallowed hard, sighing.

“Aren’t you acting like this because you have something to say?” He asked, his words dripping like honey from his lips.

You shook your head. “No.”

He looked like he was fighting a smile. “I think you are.”

“No, I’m not–I’m not acting like this because I have something to say.” Your mind was already screaming at you, begging you not to do anything. Begging you not to say anything. “Because I want to do something.”

The air was stuffy. The bathroom was filthy, the window was cracked open, blowing in a slight breeze, gently running up your arms, sending chills down your spine.

Jongho tilted his head. “To do what?”

The vodka in your basically vodka-virgin body was bubbling under your skin, infiltrating your mind, your blood. It was taking control over your every move, every idea, everything. So when he asked you that, when he looked like the most beautiful person in the world as he spoke, with his pretty ass hair and his lips and his flushed cheeks, you knew what you wanted to do.

“To kiss you,” you didn't stutter. You stayed put against the door despite your words. “I just wanna do it again. Every time I look at you, I want to do it.”

Jongho’s eyes widened, but he didn't run away like you thought he would. He just stood there, breathlessly, his hands at his sides and his mouth parted. It’s like he wanted to do it too, with the way his fingers twitched as you spoke, with the way his lips almost curled up completely.

You pushed off the door, taking a step towards him. When he didn't back away, you took another step. You were so close to him that you were able to feel the soft, hot breaths he was letting out against your skin. His breath smelled like that disgusting beer, but it didn't matter at all—actually, you wanted to taste it on his lips, on his tongue.

You reached out a hand, the room spinning around you. Your fingertips met his cheek, his hot skin. You felt a surge of electricity run through your body as you touched him, as you looked into his eyes. His gaze was unlike anything else you have ever seen. His eyes were zeroed in on you, shutting slowly as you rubbed your hand against his skin. He let out a soft breath, a content sigh, and his eyes were on yours again.

He took in a breath, eyes on your lips. You were too drunk to think about how the look on his face made no sense—friends shouldn't look at each other the way he was looking at you.

You leaned forward, and when he didn't flinch away, when he actually leaned forward as well, you smiled to yourself, and pressed your lips to his.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling his body to yours. His hips knocked into yours, his mouth parting, swallowing you whole. He shoved you against the sink, the countertop stabbing the small of your back, but you felt absolutely no pain. You arched your body into his, as if it were instinct, and his hands ravaged your bare skin. He was desperate, trying to catch his breath as best he could while he kissed you.

Your hands found the nape of his neck, fingers tightening in his brown hair. He let out a little moan into your mouth, his hands caging you in against the sink. Accidentally, his forehead bumped yours, causing you to bite his lip.

You pulled away, but just for a moment, smiling at him, at the redness of his lips from your gloss and your bite. He looked breathtaking in front of you, so human, so perfect. So you leaned in to kiss him again, nose knocking into his, but it didn't matter if you were sloppy. It just mattered that he was the one you were kissing.

“y/n,” he breathed against your lips, his hands now on your hips, one curving around your ass. “We shouldn't be doing this—”

“Shh,” you hissed, slapping his shoulder, keeping your lips against his. “I don't care right now.”

You deepened the kiss, and as he pressed up against you, you felt something hard press into you; you felt a deep rumble from him into your mouth. The pool between your thighs.

Suddenly, the door to the bathroom opened. Mingi stood there, his jaw down to the floor, as he took in the scene in front of him. Jongho must not have heard the door, as his hands were still clawing at you like a goddamn animal, his lips on your neck now. You quickly gripped Jongho’s shoulders and pushed him away.

“What? You just said—” He took notice of where you were looking, turning his head to see Mingi’s shocked expression. “Oh.”

“Oh, dear god!” Mingi looked like he couldn't hide the smile peeking through his lips. “I knew it!”

Jongho took a whole century taking his hands off you, finally stepping away, leaving you cold, empty. “It’s not what you think—”

Mingi threw his hands up in the air, smirking. “Ay, I didn't see anything. Carry on.”

With one last look, Mingi shut the door, leaving you alone with Jongho. The feeling in the room was completely different from a moment ago.

“I….” he started, then sighed, unable to look at you. “I gotta go.”

“Jongho—” You went to move toward him, but he left the bathroom as quickly as he could, stumbling into the doorframe, and out of sight. You were left to your own devices, standing in the middle of the bathroom, hair a mess, lips bright and painful, and a mark on your neck from your best friend.

If you could call him that…

—

It’s as if he disappeared.

You haven't seen Jongho in days. You were even too nervous to go to his room this time, not knowing how to approach him after kissing him like that. After you felt the hardness of his cock against your stomach. The wetness between your thighs. Something you have never felt before.

After a few, empty, lonely nights in your room, you took the initiative to go find him at the late hour of midnight—To ask if he feels this intense craving for you just like you do for him. But when you arrived at his dorm, San told you he wasn't there.

“He’s been super sick. I thought he was with you,” He shrugged, confused.

“He’s sick?” your eyes widened.

San nodded, messy hair from sleep. “Sorry, maybe he’s with Mingi?”

After your encounter with San, you made your way to Mingi’s dorm. But, once again, Jongho was nowhere to be found.

So you went to the only place you thought to look.

And there he was, under the bright lights, taking a shot at the three-point line on the courts near the rec center. He missed the shot and stood there a moment before going to grab his rebound.

But the ball rolled to where you were, as if it meant to. Jongho stood still as you grabbed the ball.

He stayed silent. You weren't sure whether to move closer or just pass him the ball back.

“Are you going to give me it?” He spoke blandly, sweat dripping down his forehead despite the cold air surrounding him.

You sighed, putting the ball under your arm. “Jongho, it’s cold out here.”

He sniffed, his nose red. He didn't look at you. “Just give me the ball, dammit.”

You blinked, watching the cold air show as you exhaled. “Why are you ignoring me?”

He rolled his eyes, taking in a breath. “Dammit, y/n—”

“You’re doing it on purpose,” you began to dribble the ball—very sloppily, but it didn't matter. You dribbled past him towards the hoop, tossing the ball up, watching it go through the net. “Ignoring me, I mean.”

“No, I’m not,” he huffed, moving to grab the ball from your shot. He made his way back up to the top of the key, away from you.

“Yes, you are.” you walked up to him, putting your hand out so he couldn't shoot. “Just be honest!”

With a huff of cold air, jongho tossed the ball away, an aggravated look on his face. “For fuck’s sake, y/n, Yes. I’m annoyed.”

You blinked, standing only a few feet away from him. “Why?” you asked, probably stupidly, given the irritated look on his face.

He sighed, tightening his hands into fists. “...Because….because I’m a man, too, you know.” he started, running his hands through his hair aggressively, clenching his jaw. “ You change in front of me, kiss me, do everything that causes my brain to spin. I’m sick of acting like I'm okay with it.”

You stood there, frozen. The air felt even colder as winter wrapped its arms around your bare skin.

“Does that mean you didn't like it?” you wondered out loud, possibly too immature, too inexperienced. You had no idea what you were feeling, why you felt this way. All you knew is that you wanted to spend every moment with him, to kiss him, to lay in bed with him. Things you did normally, but things felt different.

“Didn't like what?” He asked, his eyes wide.

“The kiss,” you looked into his eyes. “The kisses.”

Jongho stood tensely, unsure of what to do. You watched his eyes flicker up to the sky as little flurries fell, catching themselves in his hair.

“y/n,” he took a sharp breath in. “don't you get it? I can't kiss you. You can't kiss me. You can't….touch me like that, change in front of me, and not expect me to get flustered!” He nearly shouted the last part, and turned to the side away from you, aggravated beyond words.

“I….I’m sorry,” you spoke out, taking a step towards him. “I’m sorry that I feel this way—”

“Feel what?” he scoffed, turning back to you, a pained smirk on his lips. “You should be sorry for making me feel this….for causing me so many headaches, for god sake why the fuck am I out here when it’s fucking snowing, jesus christ you piss me off—”

“Jongho,” you interrupted his freakout, his word vomit. He stared at you with those beautiful eyes of his. “What are you trying to say?” you spoke in a small voice.

His eyes were frantic, going back and forth from eye to eye. “I…. can't do this.”

“Do what?” you felt the flurries dance against your skin, dance as they fell around you.

“I can't act like your friend anymore.” He bit his lip. “You have no idea what you do to me. What you’ve been doing to me.”

You took a step closer, but he backed away.

“I don't understand—”

“Just go,” He pleaded.

“You do things to me too!” you groaned, finally done with his attitude. “Will you knock it off? You’re not the only one confused here—”

“Oh, I confuse you?” He looked at you like you had two heads. “I’m sorry, I only kissed you because you were trying to get another guy. I kissed you so you could know how to do it, but you want to know something?” He paused, suddenly right up on you, the space gone between you. “I haven't kissed anyone either. I just…you. It’s just been you! I didn't know what I was doing, either!”

“Is that so bad?” you pleaded, your eyes bleeding into his. “Is it so bad that you had to kiss me? Should I apologize for wanting to do it again? That I haven't stopped thinking about you since?” you frantically looked into his eyes.

“Just…” Jongho sighed, his eyes a bit watery. “Lleave me be.”

The look on his face was enough. You took a step back, and then another.

“I won't apologize for my feelings, for whatever this feeling is,” you admitted. “But I am sorry I caused you trouble.” before you left him there, you looked up to him once more, snow falling around you. “Good luck at your game, tomorrow.”

You turned on your heel, not understanding a single thing that just unfolded, that was just said. He made no sense; you made none, either. It was just a bunch of words, unnecessary words, rifting your friendship. But one thing was for certain—you couldn't repair this without a few missing pieces.

Jongho stood as still as a statue as he watched you walk away.

—

You sat on the bench in your cheerleading uniform, your heart beating a mile a minute as you watched the game unfold in front of you.

It was approaching halftime. Jongho was sprinting down the sideline, limping slightly as he moved. He passed the ball beautifully to San, who was wide open for the layup.

You couldn't focus on anything—didn't even cheer when San made the shot. You just sat and stared into space, your eyes following jongho, watching his wince as he backed up down the court.

“He’s hurt,” you muttered under your breath, stomach tightening.

Jongho continued playing his heart out, but you knew something was wrong. However, as halftime came, he walked away from the court just fine and into the locker room, not giving you a single passing glance as he walked past you. Seonghwa did, however, but you weren't even paying attention to that.

After a few long moments, the team came back out. You had to cheer, but your heart wasn't in it. Jongho, once again, walked right by you, and when you were about to jump up and ignore everything that was said yesterday to make sure you were okay, the buzzer rang.

The game went on, the score going back and forth until the last quarter. Jongho stood at mid-court, calling a play, but the guy guarding him was aggressive. He tried to make a move around him, squeaking his sneakers against the hardwood, but it was no use. The defender followed him with ease, sliding his feet in perfect position.

The gym was in hysterics as Jongho pushed for the bucket, taking a side step into a euro step, but suddenly, oh so suddenly, Jongho crashed to the ground in a thud before getting the shot off.

The gym went silent. Jongho hissed in pain, his eyebrows knit tight. The athletic trainer ran out to see him as the game was put on hold with less than a minute to go. You stood up, not even realizing what you were doing. All you could feel was a pain in your chest as you saw him hurt, the intense feeling to take his pain away. You watched in despair as he was lifted off the floor, as he was carried out of the gym.

You swallowed hard, your ears ringing. Your teammates tried to get you focused, as the game was going to continue, but you jumped up and pushed through, making your way to the locker room desperately.

“Jongho?” you panted, turning the corner to enter the boy's locker room. You sucked in a breath as you see him in pain, lying down on the bench, a few others around him as he nearly cried in pain.

“Jongho!” you cried out, rushing to his side. His eyes were frantic, wide, a mess. The trainer took off his knee brace slowly as you approached. “Oh my god, are you okay?”

Jongho met your gaze through his watery eyes, every other emotion gone other than…whatever this was. He almost let out a sigh of relief as he saw you. You knelt down next to him, gripping his hand, and he held yours tighter.

“y/n,” he murmured, sucking in a sharp breath as the trainer surveyed his leg. “Did I…did I do it again? Please tell me I didn't—”

You looked at the man who was assessing his injury. “Did he tear it again?” you panicked, remembering how awful this was for him back then. How traumatizing it was, how horrible it was for him to gain his strength again. You couldn't stand to see him in pain.

“I…I don't know,” the man admitted. “It’s too swollen to tell. You’ll need to get this checked out—”

“Goddammit,” Jongho hissed, shutting his eyes tightly, and swallowing hard. That was when you realized that it might not even be the pain from the injury—no, it was his trauma. The memory of his hard work all down the drain.

“I’m here,” you breathed, tucking his hair behind his ear and away from his face. “It’ll be okay.”

The buzzer rang, and screams followed. Jongho looked at you, not a care in the world other than that you were there with him, just like before.

“You’ll be alright,” you repeated softly, your heart aching at his pain. “This will be okay.”

—

“From the MRI, it looks like everything is still intact,” the doctor spoke with a tone of arrogance. “You did weaken your surgical graft, however. You’ll need some PT and rest.”

Jongho stared down at his leg, his hand still gripping yours. He breathed a sigh of relief but didn't say anything else.

“I’ll write up a referral for that, so just hold on a moment.”

You were left in silence in the middle of the emergency room, Jongho sitting up straight on the bed with a big icepack on top of his knee. He was starting right at it, his lips downturned.

You wanted to ease his troubles. To make him feel better. Nothing felt worse than seeing him like this.

You didn't know what to say. You really couldn't say anything. You were so overwhelmed with the pain you felt as you looked at him as if it were your own. You hated his tears that begged to fall and never did.

“Hey,” you mumbled softly, squeezing his hand. It took him a minute to move his gaze to you, and when he did, his eyes spoke a thousand words. “See? It will be okay.”

He sighed, his face contorting as he fought his tears. “I…I’m sorry.”

“For what?” you weren't thinking of anything else other than what was in front of you. You rubbed your thumb against his knuckles, trying to soothe him.

“For how I acted.” He looked down at your hands, how yours was touching his, how his fingers were tight around yours. He didn't want to let go—neither did you. “I was just upset.”

“I know,” you nodded, swallowing. “I was, too.”

He looked into your eyes. “y/n, I…” he paused, the beeping of his heart rate speeding up in the background. “I just don't know why I acted like that I…I guess I got caught up in how I feel about you, and it confused me.”

You blinked. “How do you feel about me?”

He let out an uneasy laugh. “Isn't it obvious?”

You shook your head. “I… don't really know much of anything. Much of these feelings,” you acknowledged, biting your bottom lip anxiously.

He let out a genuine laugh. “Me too.”

“So, how do you feel?” You tucked a piece of your hair that fell loose from your bow, suddenly aware of how much of a wreck you probably looked like. You were still in your cheer uniform, Jongho in his basketball one, and you were sure you had smeared mascara everywhere. “About me, I mean.”

He took in a sharp breath. “This isn't fair, I’m like, high from pain meds. I don't know what i’m saying.”

You smiled widely, feeling such immense love for the man in front of you.

Oh shit.

Are you….in love?

“All I know is that I haven't stopped thinking about you since I met you,” He chuckled anxiously. “I don't understand why, and it's just increasingly worse after you keep kissing me, it's making my head spin.”

Jongho yawned slightly after his somewhat confession, his eyes fluttering.

He was so pretty. So, so pretty. You wanted to sleep with him. Next to him, cuddle with him, kiss his face, his eyelids, his cheeks, his everything. You wanted him to do everything to you that you dreamed of.

Oh fuck, you definitely are in love with him.

“Holy fuck—” you paused, staring at him, wide eyed at your realization.

“What?” He furrowed his brows.

You tried to control your overwhelming thoughts. “I just realized something…” you met his gaze, holding onto it tightly. “Are we…are we in love? I mean, I think at least I might be—”

“Holy shit, we might be,” Jongho gulped, a knowing smile curling at his lips. As if he knew this, at least on his end, for much longer than you have. He looked at you, then at his leg, and back at you. “Are you in love with me?”

“I think so?” you questioned, your chest aching. Jongho’s heart began to beat faster and faster, as seen on the monitor next to him. You leaned towards him, blushing as his heart rate jumped over one hundred.

Jongho let out an anxious laugh. “You sound super confident.”

You would've kissed him right then and there, prove to him that you loved him, if it wasn't for that awful doctor.

You helped jongho hobble out of the hospital, his leg wrapped in ice and his arms wrapped around you. You were hyper aware of the smell of sweat, the light remnant of his woodsy cologne. You heard his breath hitch as your fingertips curled around his arm as you walked toward the street for a cab.

“God, standing up really messed me up.” he wobbled a bit. “I don't know what they gave me, but fuck, I feel wonderful,” he giggled, nudging his head into the crook of your neck.

There was a mix of comfort and chaos as you got in the cab, his head on your shoulder, his hair a mess. His arm was slung over you, his eyes closed, his lips parted against your collarbone. He felt comforting, yes, but also his damn lips started to move against your skin.

“Jongho,” you breathed, trying to keep quiet as the cab driver carried on. “Stop it—”

“Mmmh,” he groaned into your neck, kissing it again, trailing up towards your jawline.

“The fuck, did they give you viagra?” you nearly choked as his hand that was around your shoulder fell to your waist, tightening on the curve above your hip. His hand moved lower, past your hip, meeting the curve right before he could reach your—

“Hey,” you whisper yelled, smacking his cheek lightly.

He opened his eyes, those brown irises sparkling despite the dark car. “Oh, its y/n,” he smiled, meeting your gaze, but you watched it fall to your lips. “You look pretty.”

You scoffed. “You don't know what you're talking about right now—”

“Oh, I do,” he smiled lopsidedly, his hand now coming up to cradle your cheek. “I know what i’m doing.”

You smirked. “I think you’re loopy.”

“Maybe a little,” he shrugged, smiling, his eyes curving into smiles too. “But I know what I want to do.”

You tilted your head, raising your brows. “And what’s that?”

He smiled villianously, teeth barred. “Do you really want to know?”

You held in your laugh, but managed to nod.

He took in a breath, letting it out in an exaggerated sigh. “I want to fuck you so bad,” he huffed, his head falling right back onto your shoulder. “So, so bad. I’ve always wanted to—”

“Jongho,” you blinked. “You’re high from pain meds, you don't know what you're—”

“Oh, but I do know,” he sat up quickly, eyes dazed, hair a mess on top of his head. He reached out a hand, tucking your hair behind your ears with a boyish smile. He focused on your face, on your eyes, your lips. His expression changed, his smile falling. “I wanted to tell you about how I feel about you.”

You bit your lip. “You did.”

He waved a hand, flopping it around. “Nah, I didn't.”

“Yes, don't you remember?” you scoffed playfully. “We just had this whole talk like twenty minutes ago—”

“Aye, stop it, I had something to say but now I forgot!” he groaned, tossing his head back against the headrest. He then turned his head to your direction. “Did I ever tell you how pretty you are?”

“You just did,” you smiled.

“Oh, that’s right.” he swallowed, looking at your lips. “Did I ever tell you that I want to kiss you? Like, all the time?”

You shook your head, giving up on the fight against his high ass.

“Well, I just want to kiss you, over and over again, and then when you started kissing me, I think I went crazy,” he blinked slowly, eyes covering every inch of your face. He leaned forward. “You really fucked me up, you know?”

You frowned. “Did I?”

“Pfft,” he huffed. “Are you kidding? You would change in front of me, lay in bed with me, touch me, everything I….” he swallowed hard. “How was I supposed to react to your tits? Your ass? You think i’ve never gotten hard from it?” you wanted to shut his nonsense up, but he kept going on. “I’ve had to literally leave just to jack off so you didn't find out—”

“Woah, woah,” you rose your eyebvrows. “You’re a mess right now, youll regret what you’re saying tomorrow—”

“I wont,” he sniffed, eyes meeting yours. “I’m done with acting like I don't think about you naked—”

“Jongho, shut it, we’re not alone—”

“We should be alone so I can do everything I want to you,” he pressed a sloppy kiss to your temple. “God, I want to do everything to you.”

You wanted to push him away. You wanted to tell him no—but…his lips, his words, his breath felt so good, so intoxicating. He pressed a kiss to your jaw, to the corner of your lips. “Can we fuck now?”

You closed your eyes, taking in a breath. “The hell is wrong with you? We’re in a cab—”

He ignored you, his lips continuing to find their way around your face. “When we get back?”

You looked down at his knee, how it was wrapped, how much pain it had caused him. “You just hurt your leg, and you’re not in your right mind.”

“Oh, i’m completely in my right mind,” he kissed your ear, letting a little breath of air tickle you. “I’ve wanted this forever.”

You sighed, your breath shaking, your chest tight. You had absolutely no experience—you’ve never had sex, never did anything with a man other than what you were doing now, and the little kiss you gave seonghwa.

“I’m a virgin,” you whispered softly, embarrased. However, you felt the most comfortable with jongho. He was your everything.

“So am I,” he admitted, smiling. “We can learn together.”

“God, we’re so lame,” you breathed, smiling.

Jongho, however, did not care about any words. He nuzzled into your collarbone, pressing a kiss there, over and over again.

“So, does that mean we can have sex?”

—

You assisted jongho into your building, helping him into the elevator and pressing your floor while he leaned against the wall.

The silence was deafening. You were sure he was able to hear your heart beat through your chest.

As the doors closed, you let a sigh out.

“y/n,” he breathed. Behind you, his eyes were on you.

“Hm?” you hummed, afraid to turn to him, afraid of what you would do, what he would do.

“I love you,” he spoke.

You’ve both basically said it only an hour before. Only then, it didn't feel real. Now, maybe it was the fact that Jongho’s eyes have cleared up, his expression was raw. He looked nervous, he looked anxious. This was all new, all foreign—but Jongho wasn't new, wasn't different. He’s always been him, been by your side, your rock, your everything.

“I….love you too, dummy.”

When the elevator reached your floor, it took you a second to move. You helped him down the hall, and when you reached your door, you paused.

“Do you…want to…” you trailed off, unsure if that was only the drugs talking earlier.

When you turned to jongho, he had a sinister smile on his face.

“You mean,” he nodded toward your room. “What I think you mean?”

“Well, jeez,” you scoffed, turning around to open your door. “As if you weren't the one all over me in the cab—”

A second later, you both stood in the entrance of your room, both of your hearts beating like crazy.

He entered the room after you, slowly shutting the door. The room was dark—you weren't even trying to turn the lights on.

You turned to jongho, watching him stand with his fists at his sides, his fingers gripping the fabric of his basketball shorts.

“How do we…” you took in a sharp breath, meeting his gaze. His eyes were wide, dripping with love, lust, with so much. You weren't sure if they always looked like that, if they looked at you like that. Those eyes….

“Let’s just, he winced a bit as he stepped closer. “Just stay where you are.”

When he got close enough, you saw the worry in his expression. The hesitancy, the love. He looked up, and his eyes spoke a thousand unspeakable words. His hand reached out, pausing at the hem of your cheerleading uniform.

You let out an anxious laugh at his face, as he looked so conflicted. You didn't say anything though, and after a moment, he tugged your top right over your head, grinning like a goofball at the red lacy bra you had on.

“For me?” he murmured, his hand subconsciously drifting to run over your skin, his fingertips pressing against the thin fabric of your bra. He met your gaze, his jaw tightening.

You reached for his top now, the loose jersey easily pulling over his head—the jersey that was hiding the soft curves of muscle. You’ve seen him shirtless many times, an unimaginable amount of times—but this time, it was different. You ran a hand down the pane of his chest, across the mounds of muscle, down his soft but muscular frame. He was perfect, absolutely sexy, breathtaking, gorgeous.

He shivered under your touch, meeting your gaze. He moved to take his shorts off, but winced. “Hold on, i’ll take them off—” but you both leaned down at the same time, crashing your heads together, causing a storm of laughter.

“God, we’re so not good at this,” He chuckled, smiling bright even in the dark room.

“No, not really,” you grinned, reaching down at his hips, pulling his shorts off, tugging a bit at the erection that bulged out. You held in your pride, the fact that he was already so turned on by just taking your clothes off.

His shorts fell down to his ankles, his underwear with them, leaving him completely naked, completely vulnerable in front of you. He looked at you with those damn eyes, those irises that held every emotion possible for you.

You took a second to take him in, his thickness, his length. You swallowed hard, suddenly aware that…that would go inside you, and it would probably tear your virgin self to shreds.

He then gripped the waistband of your skirt, tugging you to him. He was slightly taller than you, so when your body hit his, you felt his cock against your lower stomach, feeling a pulsing ache in your body. His fingers glided against the bare skin of your waist as he pulled your skirt over your hips, and when they fell, you were left standing in your mismatched underwear, begging him to take it off of you, too.

However, he just stood there like a deer in headlights, staring at the curves of your body, and the smoothness of your skin. His mouth parted, his eyes grew wide, and his hands twitched to touch you, to ravage you, to swallow you whole as if you were roadkill and he was a vulture.

An anxious vulture.

He reached around you, the heat of his body warming you, and his hands clasped around the clip of your bra. He fiddled with it for a good moment, and as he started getting irritated that he couldn't get it, you laughed. “Goddamn this thing has you locked up like fort knox—”

“Do you want me to get it—”

“No, no, i’ll be extremely embarassed, let me do it.” he continued to try to get it off you, and finally, it fell off you, onto the ground, and Jongho stood with a proud smile on his lips. “Fuck yeah, finally.”

But, right after his words of triumph, his eyes fell to your full breasts. His eyes widened, and he gave into his desires, letting himself grab one, calloused fingers gliding against your nipple.

“Oh, fuck y/n,” he breathed, both his hands coming up to cradle your breasts, to feel you up. He took in a breath, eyes unable to leave your body. “You’re absolutely beautiful.”

He dipped his head, taking in a breast into his mouth, flicking his tongue over your nipple. You felt your stomach tighten, felt your wetness pool at your thighs. He looked up to your eyes as he sucked, and when he saw your ecstatic expression, he quickly pulled away.

He didn't spare an extra second to claw at your underwear, satisfyingly watching them fall to the ground, leaving you both completely naked in the middle of the room. He looked at you, love dripping from his chocolate eyes.

And thats when you gripped the back of his neck. “I’m sorry if I don't do this very well,” you admitted, twirling your fingers in his hair. He didn't seem to even hear what you said as his eyes remained on your lips.

“God, we cant be friends anymore,” he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours, he hesitated, lips hovering over yours, his breath shaky, tangling with yours. “Definetly not, fuck.”

You tilted your chin forward, lips so close, so so close. His hands found your hips, fingernails leaving marks in your skin.

And with one last look into your eyes, jongho sighed, letting go of everything. He pressed his soft lips to yours, taking you in like he hasn't kissed you before. Like he’s always wanted to. He breathed into you, moving his hands to cradle your face, to get as close to you as possible.

You arched your body against his, bucking your hips into his, and he grunted in response. You fell backwards onto the bed, him on top of you, but as you fell, he bit your lip so hard you let out a little yelp.

“Oh shit,” he gasped, parting from you, eyes wide with worry. “Are you okay? Did that hurt? I didn't mean to do that—-”

“Shh, shut your face,” you patted him on the cheek, giggling at his reaction.

He adjusted himself on top of you. “Here, make sure you’re head’s on your pillow, I want you to be comfortable.” he adjusted you, too, and he looked so sincere and serious it made you laugh. “Why are you laughing?” he asked, but couldn't help but let out a little chuckle, too. “Stop, this is serious.”

You laughed even more. “Sorry, sorry, you’re just really cute.” you watched his eyes twinkle as he looked at you. “And you look so pretty on top of me.”

He smirked, holding back his giggle. “Stop it.”

“I’m just saying,” you reached a hand out to wrap around his neck, tugging his lips right back down to yours, kissing him softly. “Mhm. I cant get enough of this.”

He smiled into the kiss. “Me neither, I cant believe you’re under me right now.”

You couldn't help the blush that heated your cheeks. You were suddenly aware of his dick against your thighs, of your skin against his. You looked into his eyes, looked at how they were looking at you, how he held himself over you.

And then, after a look of utter love, he smiled and kissed you. This time, he stuck his tongue into your mouth, running over the ridges of the roof of your mouth. You opened your mouth wider, deepening the kiss, knocking your nose against his.

His lips parted as he gasped for air, his chest heaved against yours. His hand delicately glided up your ribs, meeting the skin of your breasts. He gripped your breast in his hand, moaning into your mouth, hips bucking into yours. You couldve sworn you felt his heartbeat through his chest as he made out with you, as his hands covered you. He pulled away only to make sure you still wanted this, and when you nodded, he reached down to line himself up with you. The concept of sex always felt so difficult. So worrisome, so new. But with jongho, it felt like you've done this forever.

“If it hurts, tell me,” he whispered against your lips, kissing you gently. “I’ll take care of you.”

You literally couldve came at those words. You swallowed hard, and forced out a nod.

He pecked your lips, smiling, kissing them again. His hands hesitated, not knowing what to touch as his tip pressed into your cunt, his breath shortening, sweat dripping down his forehead.

You reached out, gliding a hand across his cheek, across his lips, smiling up at him.

“I….” he hesitated before entering you. “Are you wet enough? Should I spit?”

He looked terrified. Absolutely terrified. So you ran a hand soothingly through his hair, watching his eyes shut tight in pleasure, in delight. “Don't worry about anything and just do it.”

“Okay,” he mumbled, letting out a little laugh. “Okay, okay.”

And then, his eyes bled into yours as he tilted his hips, pushing his cock slowly into you, so gently, as if he was terrified of hurting you. You watched his mouth part, watched his expression change to euphoria as he filled you, every inch sparking a new feeling.

He snapped his hips, his length fully in you, and you nearly cried out from the feeling. You moaned as he moved slowly, clawing at his shoulders, this feeling unlike anything else—your damn vibrator held nothing on Jongho.

He relaxed his expression, his eyes fluttering open, looking right down on you. You met his gaze as he moved in and out of you.

“Does it hurt, if it hurts, I can stop—”

“Shut the hell up and fuck me, jongho,” you grumbled, your hands finding a home on his hips, the feeling of them snapping under your hands sent you spiraling. You moaned as his dick reached a new spot, as you felt your walls tighten around him. You wanted to cry out, rip your hair out, tear at his skin as you felt the intense crave for him. The way he looked down on you fueled the fire in your hips, in your back. You felt an ache in your hips, slamming your head back, fighting the urge to claw the bedsheets.

But then you sae his grimace, and you frowned. “Oh my god, you’re knee, you’re in pain.”

He kept moving, but he was definitely in pain. “I-I think the meds wore off—”

Without thinking, you pushed him off you, making him roll over so now he was the one on th bottom. You straddled him, looking at his shocked expression, how his breaths quickened, how his cock twitched for you. To be inside you.

You had an unimaginable amount of knowledge from all your smutty books, so you might as well try to use what you know, right?

“y/n, what are you—”

“Let me please you,” you breathed, and with a slow, calculative movement, you sat on his dick, sliding his length into you, once again gaining the extreme pleasure of his expression and the absolute desperation he expressed. He gasped as you moved up and down on his cock, and he watched you, watched him dissapear into you. He slammed his head back into the pillow, his face contorting, moans fluttering through his lips, his eyebrows knitting together in pleasure and a million other things.

“God, fuck,” his hands gripped your hips as you rode him, his eyes rolling to the back of his head, his breaths shallow. He gasped for air. “You feel so good, oh my god. So fucking good.”

You tossed your head back, resting your hands on his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin, the smoothness of it. He blinked up at you, a smile on his lips, completely in bliss.

He moved his hands with you, nearly lifting you up as you moved on his cock, moved on his body. You forgot how strong he was.

“You sure you’ve never done this?” he gasped, his eyes shut tight. “Because fuck, this is better than I ever imagined.”

You smiled down on him, giddy at his words. You moved even faster, causing him to moan, and moan, and moan.

You didn't even know what to say—you just enjoyed his little commentary as he took you in, his gaze dripping like honey.

“Godamn,” he hissed, eyes meeting yours. He looked frantic. “Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he seethed, hips slamming up into yours. “Fuck, you’re so hot, so so hot.”

You felt him twitch inside you, felt your walls collapse. You began to see spots in your vision as he moved his hips, too, just as you were. You felt so much pride as he looked absolutely pathetic underneath you, his gaze hazy, his lips bright red from your kisses.

“I love you, I…love you,” he hissed out. “I love you.”

You reached your climax just from looking at him, crying out in a moan, leaning forward over his body. His hands flooded all over you, sending sparks at every touch, every spot of your body. And when you came, when you felt the rush of cum, the rush of the high finally hit, you continued to move as he did. Then, suddenly, his eyes grew so wide, he lifted you off his cock hastily, gasping for air.

You leaned back on his legs, onto your heels, trying to breathe, trying to see, as his hands grasped his own dick, moving up and down before he came, his cum shooting onto you, over your chest, your boobs, your stomach. You watched him gasp as it happened, his lips curling up in an embarrassed smile.

“Oh, oops,” he laughed, looking absolutely delectable with the hair stuck to his forehead and his eyes wide with pleasure. “Totally meant to do that….”

Something burned under your skin, something foreign, something you never felt before. You’ve only read about this feeling, this moment. But now, here you were. You just had sex, sex with your best friend, and it was the best thing you’ve ever felt before. You needed more, so so much more.

“Please tell me we can do that again,” you breathed, falling onto him, sticking to him, feeling the beat of his heart as you pressed your ear to his chest.

“Oh, fuck yes,” his hand wrapped around you, holding you to him. He pressed a gentle, exasperated his to the top of your head. “You don't even have to ask that, i’m planning on doing that all night.”

You moved a bit so you could lay against his side, totally forgetting about the cum on you that now got all over the place. “You seemed like you knew what you were doing for a virgin,” you side eyed him. “You have to be lying.”

He smirked, a light blush on his cheeks. “Uh, well,” he swallowed, eyes looking all over your face. “I mean, I have been thinking about what I would do if I ever got to sleep with you.”

You furrowed your brows. “You’re so cheesy.”

“Well I didn't get to do exactly what I wanted,” he looked down at your lips, at your body pressed to his. “Because of my damn knee, but,” he pressed a kiss to your nose. “That means we have to do this again.”

“Oh, baby,” you pinched his cheek. “We’ll be doing this way more than we probably should.”

He smiled, that blush still on his face, across his nose. He looked so beautiful, so so pretty, it actually hurt you to look at him.

You kissed him, kissed his lips, his nose, his flushed cheeks.

And you looked at him, at his eyes, the same eyes you’ve known forever.

“I love you, Jongho.”

—

The next morning, you parted ways with a sleepy jongho, late for your early class. You couldn't stop thinking about him all day, that is, until you ran into Mingi and San in the library cafe.

Mingi grinned like the cheshire cat, an eye smile brighter than the sun. “Well, hello there, you.”

You rolled your eyes as the line for the coffee moved. San and Mingi stood behind you, giggling like little kids.

“So, Jongho didn't come back last night,” San started, and you quickly cut in.

“So? He always stays in my room, its not anything odd—”

“Oh, sweetie,” Mingi crossed his arms, grinning. “But it is odd.”

“Why?” you crossed your arms, too, facing him. San stood by with a little chuckle.

“Because he came back to the room before his class and his jersey was on inside out—”

“So? He likes to sleep shirtless—”

“His lips were covered in red lipstick—”

“I don't know what you were talking about—”

“Oh, and he told me that he had sex with you—”

You slammed a hand against San’s mouth, giving him a death glare while mingi giggled like a school girl. You grimaced, pulling your hand away. “Shut up, or i’ll make you.”

“Ooh, so scary,” San waved his hands in the air dramatically. “Anyway, are you dating him now? You better date him, he’s been dreaming of that for so long.”

You blinked. “I mean, we said we loved each other, but nothing about dating….”

Mingi smirked. “Welp, guess you better go figure that out.”

After class, you found yourself in front of Jongho’s door, a shake in your breath as you knocked. He opened the door, shirtless, a smile on his face the minute he met your gaze.

And then he grabbed you by the waist and planted a big kiss onto your lips, smiling into it, and then pulled away.

“Hi,” you smiled.

“Hi.” he tilted his head, looking you up and down.

“I heard you told San everything.”

He bit his lip. “Was I supposed to keep it to myself?”

You shook your head, smiling.

“Do you want to come in?” he hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Mhm,” you nodded, following him in.

The minute the door shut, Jongho slammed you up against it, swallowing you whole with his mouth as he kissed you. His hands gripped the side of your head, tugging at your hair, causing you to let out a hiss. He took the opportunity of your open mouth to shove his tongue into you, exploring your mouth with pleasure. He moaned into you, and you couldn't help but moan yourself.

His hands gripped your thighs, lifting you up, slamming your back into the door as he held you to him. He then started to walk towards his bed, but you realized his injury.

“Jongho, you’re leg,” you breathed with worry, trying to get him to put you down. “You’ll hurt yourself—”

“Shut up,” he spoke into your mouth, indeed shutting you up immediately. You sighed as he kissed you, as he touched you. He gently set you down onto his bed, and you went under his duvet since he kept his room like an icebox.

He followed you suit, crawling on top of you under the covers, but you had a better idea. Once again, you flipped him so he was on his back, and with one quick look at the shock in his gaze, you kissed his collarbone, then his chest, down his sternum, over the soft muscle of his stomach. You slowly pulled his pants down over his cock, his underwear along with them.

You felt his muscles tighten underneath your lips, you heard his breath hitch as you moved lower and lower, until your lips met the soft skin of his hard cock. He gasped his hands searching for you under the covers, his legs moving in pleasure as you licked his tip.

“Oh my…oh…” he arched his back against your kiss, your hands holding onto his hips as you surrounded your mouth around his erection. He thrashed against you, absolutely liquid in your embrace.

But before you could take him fully, the door of his room opened, and in came san blabbing about god knows what.

You quickly moved, trying to lay flat the best you could to hide. Jongho sat up fast, pulling the blanket up and bunching it around his dick, making sure it wasn't so obvious that you were under there….and that he was literally throbbing hard.

“I ran into y/n earlier, she admitted to it!” san roared, and you assumed he was taking his shoes off considering the sound. “Good for you buddy, I know how long you wanted to tap that—”

“Ah, yeah,” Jongho awkwardly laughed. You wish you could see the look on his face, the embarrassment. Just how long did he want you?

You couldn't help but stroke your hand against his dick, causing him to gasp.

“You alright?” San questioned, now making his way to the other side of the room.

You continued to rub him. Jongho gripped the blanket tight.

“Peachy,” Jongho grunted.

San didn't speak for a while.

“Are you gonna finally ask her out?”

You paused.

Jongho sighed. “Huh?” he was totally out of it.

“I mean, you’ve been in love with y/n for ages, you might as well make if official while you can.”

“Am I?” Jongho swallowed hard. “Am I in love with her?”

“Ah shut up, you know it,” San scoffed,and a bed creaked—assumingly his. You decided to continue to suck Jongho off, taking him in your mouth, causing him to jolt.

“I uh, i’ll ask her out later,” Jongho took in a breath. “But, um, do you think you could….you know, give me a moment?”

“A moment, why—”San paused, then gasped. “Are you beating your meat right now? Oh fuck man, my bad!”

You nearly cackled against Jongho at the way they conversed with each other, how normal it seemed. It made you wonder how often this happened, how often Jongho did this to himself, how many times he thought about you while doing it…

That turned you on even more.

The minute you heard the door shut, you tossed the covers over your head, meeting Jongho’s shocked, mind-boggled expression.

“Jeez, y/n, fuck,” he couldn't help but smile as he looked at you, as you sucked him. “You’re a freak.”

“Well, you should see the things I read,” you chuckled, and then licked up the column of his cock, causing him to take hold of your head.

He shoved you up and down on his dick, his fingers tearing into your scalp, causing you to choke on him. He groaned, moaned, hummed every note possible, and then without warning, he came into your mouth, his body going still, his eyes open wide as he watched you swallow his load.

Oh, he tasted better than you ever imagined.

His saltiness still coated your lips as you leaned over to kiss him, his eyes lost in you. He looked so in love, so in lust, in everything.

“Are you gonna ask me out?” you asked in between kisses.

“Mhm,” he leaned into your kiss, not wanting to break apart.

“Are we dating now?”

Kiss.

He blinked, looking up at you. His smile defined beauty, his lips desire.

“If you’d like.”

“Of course.”

You kissed him once more, wrapping your arms around his neck, rolling around in bed with him. He chuckled, smiled, nuzzled his head into you.

“I have practice,” you kissed his cheek, trying to get up, but his arms wrapped around you, holding you to him. “I have to go.”

“One more minute,” he mumbled into your ear as he nibbled it, then kissed it. “Just a minute.”

You smiled. “Okay, fine, I guess I can spare a minute.”

He held you, breathed in your scent, his scent on your lips. He didn't let go, even after the minute, and you hand to force yourself out of his hold.

“Meet me in my room tonight?” you raised a brow,

He nodded. “Of fucking course.”

You quickly tried to fix your hair up, tucking it behind your ears, before you gave your boyfriend a wink while you walked out.

And, funny enough, when you shut the door behind you and turned around, San stood there, smirking devilishly.

“Well damn, when’s it my turn?”

#ateez #ateez smut #ateez fanfic #ateez angst #jongho #jongho smut #ateez jongho #choi jongho #jongho x reader #best friends #best friends to lovers #colle #college au

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nonclassyparty · 1 year

Text

Starring Role - ACT XI (C.S; S.MG)

title; you know i’d rather walk alone than play a supporting role, if i can’t get the starring role

summary:

We’ve all read about the infamous player who falls in love with the good girl that manages to make him change his ways…but what happens to the other girl? The pretty, popular one that has warmed his bed before the good girl came along and took him away.

Well, no one cares about her. After all, she’s just a side character.

It almost feels like a joke to play a part, when you are not the starring role in someone else’s heart.

pairing: choi san x reader, song mingi x reader

warnings: angst! errrr idk what else, cursing??? drinking???

wc: almost 22k

taglist: @joonsthethicc @marievllr-abg @cookiechristie @purenjuniverse @hwamourr @littleparkseonghwa @hwasong @hwadump @hongshines @kitty4hwa @knisterlicht @flamingi @revehosh @gayliljoong @naiify @btshook @atzcoke @circusjanreblogs @baguette-atiny @kpopnightingale @raineadlr @ilikepalta @m4rsluv @smimingi @bubbleteakittyy @mingkiyoo @theactresstarringinurbadreams @mangishii @cryingaboutskz @pr1ncessm1ng1 @layzfeelit @khjssss @rdiamond2727 @adajoemaya @outrologist @smuchsmut @flaminghotcheetoos @dogsongy @seesaw-jk @seojonneh @hyukssunflower @haatohwa @wonwowzers @downbadreading @moonchele @leeknowsnothing @noone356097 @raspberryhong @xciiiomwliah @belle643 @doom-fics @cutesince2000 @ad0rechuu @miriamxsworld @plants-w0rld @lilactangerine @maru-matt @ateezourstars

buy me a coffee!

act x / masterlist /

a/n: well....here it is guys, this is the last chapter i never thought we’d make it here but look at us now..who would’ve thought!!!! but on a serious note, i want to thank everyone who stuck by my side while writing this and giving amazing feedback and contributing to the fun discussions we’ve been having, i had a blast! <3 i started this story a little less than a year ago and i wanted to write it for the longest time, so thank you truly and from the bottom of my heart for joining me on this ride!

“To by held above the earth and be brushed by the wind," she said, "it's like your heart has been kissed by beauty.” ― Wendelin Van Draanen, Flipped

It's hard not to stare.

The conversation that goes around the table during the appetizers is vapid, the two businessmen are taking subtle jabs at each other's expenses, their bored wives are not so subtly ogling the two waiters that are assigned to your table and the younger men sitting at your table (him included). Shallow conversations served with the only purpose of showing off who has more of what and so on and so on.

Two years ago, this was your territory. The exaggerated delight when speaking about vacations you've been to, talking up your family like you don't all hate each other one way or another and pretending you actually enjoy the presence of your company. Now, you feel awfully out of place.

The times when you were at the top of the food chain are long gone because at this table right here; you are the lowest rank. The weakest player. The artist invited for their amusement because they don't take you seriously, not really. The jester.

You learn pretty quickly into the night that you were never brought here from your boss' good grace to help you sell your art, it's for her to be able to show off the new addition to her company even if it is temporary (after this, you know it will be). Look at this new shiny, pretty little thing I have everyone. Isn't she just the cutest?

That's why it's hard not to stare.

Choi San sits opposite of you, just a couple of seats down and looks like he's completely in his element and it's mindboggling because you don't think you've ever seen him like this.

You always found him charming, good looks paired with pretty words and a smooth voice but here...it's a completely different game. The other two younger guys whose names you didn't bother to remember, seem to wait for his every word with a bated breath, the men laugh at his jokes and the women swoon at the charming grin. He is charismatic and everybody seems to be under his spell. Even you find yourself pressing your lips together to stop from smiling at an occasional quip that comes from him.

It's infuriating.

You're the outsider despite growing up in these people's circles and running around fancy restaurants since you were a toddler but Choi San...well, he fit right in.

You don't miss the way he smiles that godforsaken smile at the wife of one of the younger businessmen here. She's gorgeous and on the younger side which isn't surprising since her husband seems barely forty. She seems to be in her mid-30s though and tries to hide her flustered smile by taking a sip of the red wine in front of her.

A breathless chuckle escapes you as your eyes fall from the obvious (and fucking shameless) flirting done by both of them all while her husband is sitting right next to her but is too busy to notice because he's currently in a dick measuring contest with the others.

All that time that San spent making jabs at your wealth and the rich people you were surrounded with, only for him to land in the middle of that same table that he judged you for not even two years later.

A fucking comedy is what this is.

"I need some fresh air." You mumble to particularly no-one but one of the younger guys that seem to have come here with San and has also been laying it on pretty thick to you the entire night, is the only one to notice. When he offers to go with you, you're quick to decline.

The terrace of the restaurant is gorgeous and you feel yourself sigh once you're presented with the wide view of the city in front of you and the cool evening air enveloping you. You figure you still have some time before the main course and it's almost tempting to just spend it all here.

Your heart can't stop rattling in your chest despite it being almost an hour and a half since the short introduction between you and San and you grip the banister tightly with your hands as you try to keep your thoughts in check.

It's not even a big deal that he's here. The introduction was the only exchange between the two of you and so far, the night has been going well. It will be a bust business wise but at least you will get a free fancy meal out of it.

And San...he was acting normal. Whatever the new normal was for him. So yeah, it's not even a big deal that he's here.

"So we have to introduce ourselves to each other now?" A voice quietly says and you freeze at the sound of footsteps until he's standing by your side and his elbow is brushing yours. "Is that what we are now, Y/N? Strangers?"

He's here. And it's a big fucking deal.

You're gripping the banister so tightly that your knuckles turn white but with the utmost grace, you utter; "I don't see what else we could be."

"That's..." He starts before giving you a nod, "Fair."

He pulls something from the pocket of his slacks and you don't give into the curiosity to check what it is until he leans over to you.

An opened pack of cigarettes is presented to you and you glance at it for a second in contemplation before sighing and reluctantly pulling one out before placing it between your lips. After the night you've had, might as well.

He's quick to offer you a light and you take a drag in and exhale as you turn to mirror his position so your back is leaning on the banister and you're observing the people inside the restaurant rather the view.

San takes a cigarette out for himself, lighting it up in similar fashion as he did for you and takes a drag, exhaling with a soft sigh.

"How have you been?"

You scoff out a short, barely there laugh, "What do you want?"

San's head turns to observe you and you will yourself to just keep staring forward.

"Nothing." He responds quietly and you roll your eyes. "I don't want anything. I'm just...just trying to make conversation."

A silence engulfs you as you both take a couple of drags from the cigarettes and watch it get turned into ashes. You watch your figures in the glass in front of you and can notice him glancing at you one too many times.

"Listen, I'm-"

"I don't want your sorry's." You're quick to interrupt him but he's quick to reply back.

"I wasn't gonna say I'm sorry." Your head whips to him for the first time, brows furrowed in insult. He sighs, eyes falling shut for a moment before the flutter open again and meet yours, "Well, okay, you got me there. There is something I was going to say I'm sorry for."

Your frown doesn't move but you don't say anything otherwise so he takes it as a chance to continue. "You told me something in confidence and I-..."

"San." You warn him and uttering his name out loud causes a shiver to run up your spine.

"No. And I couldn't keep my mouth shut because I'm an idiot that let my frustrations get the best of me. And I'm sorry, Y/N, it was a shitty thing to do and you didn't deserve that." He takes a deep breath, "I never promised you much, we both knew what it was between us from the start but I did promise to keep your secrets safe and I failed at that. I know an apology might not mean shit now and I'm not saying it because I expect forgiveness but because you deserve an apology. I'm really sorry."

You stare up at him, chest heaving up and down as you watch him. He's right, you're not going to forgive him...so what now? What do you do and what do you say?

"Kind of weird to apologize here of all places." You comment stoically.

"Don't know when I'll ever see you again." San says back in almost a whisper.

Almost angrily, at yourself and at him, you take another drag from the cigarette before your eyes fall back on your table inside the restaurant. The woman San was subtly flirting with is laughing with her husband now.

You respond back in the only way you know how when it comes to talking to San. Women.

"You've moved on from unsuspecting college girls to older women now?" You ask, flicking your cigarette and taking another drag.

At the look of confusion he gives you, you nudge your head to the direction of the table you both have shared for the majority of the night. He follows your gaze and the realization sets in.

"Oh," He chuckles, one dimple showing as he glances at you. "She's cute."

"She's also married." You grit out quietly, quickly looking around to make sure no-one else hears.

San's brows furrow and his lips are pressed to stop himself from smiling as he leans over to you as if to let you in on a little secret, "Not happily married."

You scoff, rolling your eyes dramatically as you look away from him. He chuckles again.

"It's them who make the first move, never me." San clarifies, smile dimming, "I may be a lot of things but not a homewrecker."

"That is still being a homewrecker, San."

"That home has been wrecked a long time ago, princess."

You shake your head, keeping your judgement to yourself but the curiosity is still there.

What has Choi San been up to these past two years? While you were in Paris shutting yourself off from anyone and everything to focus on your art, what was he doing?

"Them who make the first move?" You repeat in disbelief, turning to him again and you place your done cigarette in the ashtray before crossing your arms and now the judgement is very obvious, "Don't tell me you're one of those guys who's chasing after older women now."

San presses his lips together.

"Seriously? Did you completely skip the co-worker phase?"

His brow quirks up in thought, "Hm, funnily enough I don't think I've ever slept with a co-worker." You shake your head at him again and are about to open your mouth to scold him but he continues deep in thought, "Does a boss' wife count as a co-worker?"

Your jaw drops at the genuine question and you have to turn your head to the side just so he won't notice the fact that you're holding back laughter, still a snort escapes you. "Jesus."

At that, San lets out a short, husky laugh as well, seemingly unbothered as he takes another drag from his cigarette.

Same old San.

There is still so much left unsaid between the two of you. So much pain and anger, pure rage, so much sadness that is kept bottled away and so many memories repressed but in that moment...well, you are fucking nosy! Sue you!

"You slept with your boss' wife?!" You whisper yell at him with wide eyes, horrified yet equally amused and if that makes you a horrible person then so be it.

"She-" He tries to explain but you're already shaking your head in judgement, "No, hey, listen listen. She came onto me-"

"And you just couldn't resist, could you?"

His brows furrow in defense, "Hey, my boss is a dick."

You both fall into a silence after that, a summer breeze coasting over and you watch the guy who's been flirting with you the entire night stand up and step away from the table.

"Hey, you know that guy?" You ask San, nodding towards the tall figure walking away.

"Jaehyun?" He responds back and at your nod, "We work together. Why?"

"Can you tell him to lay off? He keeps mentioning drinks at some bar after this and I'm not interested."

San frowns, jaw clenching, "He made you uncomfortable?"

You snort, "Please, he's harmless but I'm just not interested."

"Okay, I'll let him know." He nods before turning around, hands finally free of the cigarette and placed on the banister. He glances at you again after a moment of silence. "So...are you seeing...anyone?"

You tense a little at that. "Yeah."

His gaze is glued to the side of your face.

"Good." San nods, "That's good."

You shrug, not really wanting to talk about it. Not because it's San but because...you just don't want to think about your relationship with Mingi right now despite it being at the forefront of your mind at all times.

Noticing the waiters start walking to your tables with trays of food, you straighten out as well. "Looks like the food is here."

San looks over his shoulder with raised eyebrows and reluctantly straightens out his posture, as if he's not ready to go back inside. Hm. It's seems like San wasn't exactly in his element back there, just a good actor.

You're the first to move towards the glass door but he's quick to stop you.

"Uh," A hand wraps around your elbow and you turn to him in confusion, freeing yourself from his gentle hold. San clears his throat before handing you a small white card. "Here. Have it...for, I don't know...Just in case."

You stare at the business card, a fancy name of a firm that you'd probably know if you were in his field of work, printed at the top with San's contact info below.

With a nod, you simply take the card and tuck it into your handbag.

San motions for you to go first, holding the door open for you and you walk pass him without a word.

The moment you both shared outside, seemingly broken the moment you both join the same table again.

Dinner lasts close to another two hours and the moment one of the couples stands up to leave, bidding their goodbyes - you are quick to follow after them, hurriedly wishing everyone a good night while avoiding San's eyes and leaving the hall.

You don't even mind the five minutes you spend outside waiting for a cab.

Not telling anyone that you've seen San doesn't feel like a big deal this time. You're not on speaking terms with Wooyoung so he doesn't have the right to expect shit from you and Mingi...well, that's a whole other story.

You don't see Mingi through the week as much because you're busy with work that's piling on since your job at the book publishing company is soon coming to an end as your sketches start getting finalized and Mingi is sent out to some conference to Busan for three days.

On Thursday, when he texts you in the morning that he is back - you buy some take-out and walk to his place after work.

And yeah, you might kiss a little first. Okay, a lot.

But you haven't seen him in nearly a week and it's hard not to straddle him on his couch and lick into his mouth when he's so pliant and needy underneath you. Even if something tells you that the relationship with Mingi and you isn't exactly right, you still like him.

It's almost easy to forget it all when he kisses you, big warm hands trailing under your shirt and brushing across your lower back as you pull him closer by the back of his neck.

After a make-out session that lasts definitely longer that it almost turns into something else, you break apart and through giggles and hushed conversation, move over to the kitchen to prepare the food.

Mingi is such a guy sometimes. His glasses are all dusty in the cupboards since he mostly drinks everything out of bottles or mugs, so you take two and quickly foam them up to wash them so they can be used for your early dinner.

"I missed you," He sighs, leaned against the counter as he watches you with his arms crossed. "The conference was so fucking boring."

You laugh lightly, water splashing around, "I thought you'd take it as an opportunity to catch a break from me. I've been at your place more than I was at my own before you left."

Mingi shakes his head with a hum.

He walks over to the sink and wraps his arms around you. "If it didn't sound insane, I would tell you to move in."

Carefully setting the glasses in the dish strainer beside the sink, you tilt your head enough to kiss his jaw. "Is that something you want? Or is that something your dick suggested loudly enough for your ears to hear?"

He hums, slightly amused and turns his head so he can bite your chin. "Are you accusing me of thinking with my dick, pretty girl?" He murmurs playfully.

"Yes I am." You hum pleasantly at the nip and lean into his arms "Am I wrong?"

"Only partially." He kisses up your jaw and bites your ear next. "But there's also the fact that I want to spend time with you. All that I can. Two years to make up for."

He leans his forehead against your temple, swaying both of your bodies lightly to the tune coming from the radio set up in his kitchen and you want to smile, want to enjoy it but something isn't letting you.

Two years to make up for.

It's the first time he mentioned anything regarding that time, even if he wasn't doing so directly right now either.

Suddenly, standing in his arms feels suffocating. Any other day, you would want nothing more than to be like this with him but now, it's like there is a bag of rocks sitting in your chest and constricting your airways every time he gets too close.

You shuffle away, pretending like you're focusing on preparing the take-out you both bought and Mingi doesn't seem to notice your awkwardness as he simply starts pulling out plates and utensils from his cupboards.

Now might not be the best time but...you should tell him about San, shouldn't you? You've been weighing out the pros and cons all weekend, the white business card feeling like a thorn stuck in your hand every time you catch a glimpse of it laying on your drawing desk.

If you add another thing to the list of things you haven't spoken to Mingi about, it would only make matters worse.

You should tell him. He deserves to know and it's not like you have anything to hide.

"Hey, you remember that dinner party I had on Friday?" You ask, trying your best to seem nonchalant about it.

"Oh, yeah!" Mingi exclaims, "How did that go? You make any money?" He asks jokingly as he moves past you to get the drinks from the fridge.

"No, no, it kind of sucked actually." You reply with a chuckle and quickly jump in to explain once you notice him turn around to look at you with a frown. "They weren't really there for my art, I was just there to be my boss' accessory I guess but it's whatever."

"Wait, wha-"

You sigh, smiling at him. "It's not a big deal. I mean, selling a piece or two would've been nice but at least I got free food out of it," You turn your back to him to wash your hands, "but that's not why I brought it up."

"....okay." Mingi is properly confused now, leaning on the counter.

You take a deep breath.

"San was there."

It's almost funny how quickly the entire mood of the apartment changes.

Mingi stares at the counter with a stoic expression on his face as he drags his fingers slowly over the clean surface.

"San." He repeats with pursued lips and you swallow.

"Yeah." You continue lightly, trying to uplift the mood that you successfully brought down, "He-...well, we talked and he gave me his business card and-"

"You took his business card?" Mingi questions in faint disbelief and you stare at him, stopped mid sentence and with your mouth parted.

"Well, I didn't really think much about it-"

"Of course." He chuckles, tongue peeking out to lick the corner of his lip before he turns to you with crossed arms, leaning against the counter again. He has that almost sarcastic smile that reminds you of how he treated you when you first met him. "So what, are you going to be attending more dinner parties with him or will you just straight up start seeing him again? Like good old times, huh."

He's being passive aggressive in a way that only Song Mingi knows how to be. Because his thing is to never outright be an asshole. He instead tiptoes around it because he's too smart and too fucking noble but it doesn't change the end goal, which is to, without a doubt, be a condescending asshole no matter how much he's trying to lessen the blow.

"It's just a business card, Mingi." You explain quietly and he chuckles humorlessly with a shake of his head.

"It's never 'just' anything with you and San, Y/N." He easily says back and your mouth turns downwards as your brows furrow in slight hurt.

"If you're saying you think I slept with him or something, then I'm here to tell you right now that's not-"

"No, of course I don't think that." Mingi quickly defends before pausing with a quick glance thrown your way, "But usually when something like this happens, it's not far from it."

You take a step back at that, the linoleum cold under your bare feet. "Excuse me?"

He sighs, running a hand through his dark hair as you silently stare at him with furrowed eyebrows.

You decide to speak because he didn't look like he was planning to.

"We just talked a little bit, y'know...he apologized and that was it. I took the card because...well, I already told you; I don't know. I just took it because he was offering it." You quietly explain trying to remain calm despite the storm brewing in your chest. "I didn't plan on using it or anything."

Mingi chews on his lower lip while staring at you before chuckling humorlessly.

"I don't believe you." He whispers with another head shake and you face falls in hurt, "I mean, is it that easy to forgive him? After everything he's done? It's that easy for him?"

And that's where your nerves start getting grated.

Certain words are at the tip of your tongue but you refrain yourself from using them, wanting to see how far will he go. Instead;

"Forgive him? Who said anything about forgiving him?" Your voice slightly raises, "I just said I don't plan on using his number. I don't plan on calling him, Mingi."

Something in your brain tells you that it's wrong to have to explain yourself to him like this.

"And I just told you that I don't believe you and you know why I don't believe you?" Mingi retaliates with an equally loud voice, "Because two years you went back to him! Even after seeing how he threw you away for Boyoung, the moment they broke up and he appeared with his tail between his legs, you allowed him back in. So I'm fucking sorry for assuming that it would be any different this time, seeing as you're accepting to talk to him. I don't plan on being anyone's second choice I'll tell you that, straight up, because I, as opposed to some people, have some respect for myself."

You freeze up at that.

San fucks you. He doesn't give a shit about you otherwise and he knows you have very little self-respect for yourself to ever call him out on it.

His voice is laced with sarcasm. Or maybe it's not even sarcasm but it's something aching to mocking and it makes you feel bad. It hurts you and it makes you equally angry.

Maybe you've had it wrong all this time. Maybe you underestimated yourself expeditiously and maybe only Wooyoung has some sort of safety net when it comes to your temper. Maybe you could always hurt Mingi.

Because he was really getting on your last fucking nerve.

You must stay silent for far too long because Mingi seems rigid as well, almost sensing that he pushed too far. Which he did.

His eyes stray away from your face as he furiously blinks around, rolling his tongue over his teeth.

You feel like you're back in the same spot you were in two years ago, only this time the hinges on your face aren't close to breaking. The rusty mechanisms and dirty, bent out of shape nails that lay beneath the surface stay hidden by the tightly screwed shut door. No, it won't be like two years ago.

Because maybe it's time to show Song Mingi just who Park Y/N really is.

"I don't like the way you speak to me when you're angry." You start off calmly, too calmly because Mingi seems perturbed at your tone and then even more so at your words.

He blinks, looking around with furrowed brows before his eyes settle on you, "What?"

You quirk an eyebrow at him. "I don't like how you treat me like I'm some dumb bitch who doesn't know left from right when you get all fired up. There. Is that better?"

"I don't-..." He starts, still blinking at you confusedly before his expression turns colder, "Don't turn this around on me, Y/N."

You let out a laugh which seems to annoy Mingi. Good. "Oh, I think I will, Mingi. I think I'll turn this around on you."

He goes silent at that, staring at you in slight hurt which in your opinion shouldn't even be there. What is he supposed to get hurt over?

"You wanna know what I think?" You ask, placing your hands on your hips as you stare him down, "I think you're so caught up in all this self-righteous bullshit that you don't even realize what kind of a hypocritical asshole you really are."

"What-"

"What? Huh?" You mimic childishly but you don't give a fuck. "All this talk about what San did two years ago, what I did two years ago but what about what you did two years ago? Huh? Wanna preach about that a little?"

It's almost comical how silent the room is.

"Come on. You had so much to say not even a minute ago, so talk." You glare at Mingi's crestfallen face and you would normally feel bad for bringing any of this up. But you're too far gone and you can't find it in yourself to care anymore. "Do you want me to remind you? Want me to remind you how you treated me like an idiot that day? How you choose her over me? Want me to remind you how you said I was trying to trap you into a relationship with me?"

Just saying it makes your eyes burn from the unshed tears that you suck in. You're too pretty to cry, Y/N.

"Y/N-" Mingi starts off calmly, definitely feeling like the argument is going in a completely uncharted territory that he doesn't look like he'll be able to handle.

Thankfully, you're an expert at verbal fights.

"You have a lot of balls to stand there in front of me and judge me for...what? Talking to San? Taking his number? Should that mean that I'm also an idiot that has no respect for myself for standing in this apartment with you at this very moment?" You ask loudly despite the tremble in your voice. "Because let me remind you Mingi, you didn't even apologize. You didn't even bring up what happened two years ago, instead you just went about it as if it never happened. Do you think you're better than San or something?"

His mouth opens and closes a couple of times as he blinks at you bewilderment before he recollects himself.

"First of all, I never called you an idiot." Mingi says quietly before his tone hardens, "And second of all, I am nothing like San."

"No, obviously not." You agree immediately, "But to think that you didn't hurt me would be ridiculous, don't you think? In fact, you hurt me more because you actually made me think that I stood a chance!"

"I never said that I didn't hurt you-"

"So what? You just didn't think I deserved an apology? Or to have at least addressed that between us?"

"Of course-" Mingi groans, rubbing his eyes before loudly exclaiming; "You're turning everything I say into something it's not!"

"Yeah, doesn't feel good does it? To be talked to like an idiot." You throw back meanly before looking away with an eye roll.

"Y/N." He says with a sigh, definitely fed up with the attitude which is too bad because he just scratched the surface.

There is a moment of silence in which you pace along the space of his kitchen as he just stands near the counter staring at you.

"Well, fucking talk!" You exclaim loudly, "Do I have to pull the words out of you with a pair of claw scissors, Jesus Christ. You had so much-"

"I was ashamed!" Mingi exclaims equally loud and you falter a bit with your pacing. He sighs, eyes falling shut as he runs a hand down his face before he's back to staring at you. "Of course, I think you deserve an apology. Don't you think I haven't felt guilty at the way I decided to approach this?"

He's speaking quietly now and you protectively cross your arms over your chest as you stop in one place, to carefully listen.

"I was ashamed. I've never spoken to anyone like that the way I spoke to you that day and...well, it was to you of all people." The words fall from his lips as his cheeks flush, "I've contemplated countless of times, back then, to call you and ask to meet up so we can...so I can talk to you and apologize but I never did and I fucked up, okay? I should've. And then I fucked up again when I just tried to brush it all off when we saw each other again this summer but you seemed like you were in a genuinely good place and...I didn't want to fucking bring it up. I was scared that would just push you away further."

Your eyes fall to the floor as you let his words, delivered in a honey-like voice, sink through your skin.

"I was an asshole that day and I was an asshole now and I am sorry for everything I said, I didn't mean it. Of course I'd go on a date with you, who in their right mind wouldn't want to go on a date with you?" Mingi chuckles weakly and when you look up, only then you notice his teary eyes. "But Y/N, you have to try and understand that I had no idea where we stood back then."

When your brows furrow, he is quick to explain.

"I know we were hooking up and spending a lot of time together and you asked me out on a date but in my head that was all just to get over San and with Boyoung...there were too many things at stake and I couldn't rely on a chance where there was a possibility I would get thrown away in exchange for him." He trails off and you nod.

"So you decided to throw me away instead."

Mingi observes you in silence, sad eyes staring into your teary ones but he doesn't say anything to correct you.

"Damn." You let out a shaky breath, "That...sucks."

The permanent feeling of being something so easily disposable, yeah, it fucking sucks.

"But Y/N, I mean, surely you understand where I'm coming from now, right? After everything with Wooyoung?" Your blood runs cold at his quiet admission, "I mean, being in Boyoung's place-"

"Don't." You whisper harshly, the sole comparison to Boyoung feeling like a dozen thorns stuck in your palm.

"But-"

"Don't mention Wooyoung." You say curtly and Mingi nods after a beat of contemplation.

"Alright, I-I'm sorry but...I'm trying to make it better. I want to be with you. I wanted to be with you then and I especially want to be with you now." He whispers and the first tears slide down your cheeks.

You stare at him with your mind jumbled and emotions at an all time high. Memories from two years ago resurfacing from good ones to bad ones and you find yourself at a crossroad, not knowing where to go.

"I don't think we should be together."

Mingi's face falls, "What?"

"Did you ever watch that movie 'Flipped'?" You whisper and Mingi stares at you flabbergasted, watery eyes and red cheeks.

"Y/N-...what? Flipped?"

"If you haven't, you should watch it, it's a good movie. I read the book too so I know many of the quotes from the top of my head." You talk, ignoring his questioning panicked stare because the easiest way to hold yourself together right now is to go on a tangent about a fucking movie you've been watching since you were a teenager. "I just remembered one of the quotes from it...It goes something like how sometimes a little discomfort in the beginning can save a whole lot of pain down the road."

Mingi is staring at you like you've grown three extra heads. Like you've completely lost your mind.

You laugh faintly, tears still falling. "We're both at fault now. We should have talked about all of this when we saw each other again, no matter how ashamed or hurt we were. We should've talked, cleared everything up, got closure and then went our separate ways...because look where we are now." You shrug motioning to the distance between the two of you, both seemingly heartbroken. "Ended up in the same place, only this will hurt about a hundred times worse."

"Wh-what will hurt, Y/N? What are you saying?" The desperation seeps into Mingi's voice as he takes a step closer to you, almost to reach out but he refrains himself from doing so.

"I'm saying that...right now, all of this...us...it feels wrong."

All this time, while convincing yourself to push it under the rug, you thought that talking about it would be the thing that fixes everything between Mingi and you. But weirdly enough, you feel only slightly better just because there is no longer a rock sitting in the middle of your chest but not in any way enough to say that all is well.

If anything, you feel like things are only worse.

"Wrong?" Mingi asks weakly, watching as you move to take your bag and you bite your trembling lip.

"Wrong." You confirm, trying to act tough despite knowing that you will cry a river once you're in the safety of your home. "And now I'm going to go."

"Go? You can't go!" Mingi exclaims in panic, staring at you with wide eyes and you sniffle a little, "Y/N, d-don't go! Please, don't go, let's just...let's sit down, yeah?"

You glance at him and his face fills with the saddest expression of hope. "Let's just sit down and talk, please. We...we were both upset so let's just-"

"This isn't about how the fight started and it most definitely isn't about San." You say firmly, making sure he knows that. "t's just now that we talked, I'm starting to see how out of place everything between us is."

"No, it's-" You cut him off and he turns his back to you in a hurry. Your heart aches when you see him run a hand under his eyes again.

"Mingi, I like you. So much. I could see myself loving you one day." Your voice cracks when he turns to face you again, "But I don't think I want to fall in love with someone who had to make a choice and that choice didn't include me. Like, really....you didn't even try."

Mingi's crestfallen face is the last thing you see before you turn around and head for the front door, quietly exiting as the guilt, the sadness, the hurt all settle in deep in your gut.

You don't remember the bus ride home. You think someone sat next to you because of rush hour but you're not sure.

You walk up the steps to your apartment and when you close the door shut behind yourself, is when you let the tears flow.

Wooyoung is sitting in the dinning area again, typing away on his laptop with a spreadsheet in front of him when you walk past him without a word.

"Y/N?" He calls after you but you don't grace him with a response, only slam the door to your bedroom shut.

Through your sniffles, you know the best thing to do right now is definitely not go to bed. You will only cry harder, possibly regret the decision, possibly go into a spiral of convincing yourself that you will never be truly loved. You can't do that.

So you slowly start unpacking your work bag, taking out the sketches and notepad and placing them carefully on your desk with your pencils following right after.

You can hear footsteps pacing in front of your door and it's only another reason for the heartache.

It's Wooyoung, probably wanting to come in and see what's wrong, but he doesn't know if he's allowed so now he's pacing in front of your room. You know him so well that you can imagine it and it causes a small watery smile to grow before it's dissolved by the tears again.

Your life is such a mess.

He disappears from the front of your door and you can hear him talking to someone quietly on the phone. You wonder if it's Yeosang.

"Shit." You mutter through the tears as you clumsily knock over the ceramic cup holding your brushes off the desk and sending it into bits and pieces to the floor. "Fuck." You whimper, bending down and trying to collect it, minimize the mess as Wooyoung keeps talking to someone.

"What?!" Is heard faintly from down the hall but you ignore it, too busy trying not to injure yourself.

You cry, crouching on the floor with a piece of the cup in your hand as you have no strength to clean up the mess you made. You never do.

Soft sobs that you try to muffle wreck through your body that you barely even register the bedroom door flinging open and seconds later, a figure is crouching by your side.

"Give me that." Wooyoung whispers, taking the shard from your hand and throwing it back to the floor before wrapping both of his arms tightly around you.

You try to push at him but it only causes his arms to tighten and he mutters; "You can hate me and be angry at me all you want but I'm not letting you cry alone."

A loud sob escapes you and Wooyoung moves both of you to the bed.

"T-the mess-" You try to free yourself from his hold but he doesn't budge.

"I'll clean it up, don't worry about it." He whispers, hand coming up to slowly pat you on your head and it all causes you to cry harder.

The loneliness, the destruction, the feeling of being disposable and always loving people more than they love you; it all comes crashing down on you today and you cry so much that you eventually tire yourself out and fall asleep against Wooyoung's side.

When you wake up, there is a headache cursing through you and a scratchy throat. You're alone in your room and when you move to the kitchen to see the empty coffee pot, you figure that it's still too early for Wooyoung to be up.

After showering and drying your hair half-heartedly, you pull on a long floral skirt and a white blouse, minimal make-up just to hide the dark eye circles and make it seem like you haven't been crying your eyes out the night before.

You make the coffee instead, leaving half of the pot on the counter after pouring yourself a cup which you drink staring at the surface of the dark wood of the dinning table before grabbing your bag for work and leaving.

There is a million thoughts running through your head and you're like a zombie for the entire day. Jihyo and Sana definitely notice so they keep their distance.

"You're finishing up in a week." Your boss stops by your desk and you nod with a fake smile at her. "I'd hope we get to keep working with you even after this book. Hyejeong really likes your illustrations, she feels like they fit her stories perfectly."

"Thank you." You say quietly with a bow, keeping the fact that you're probably not coming back to yourself. You kind of hold a grudge for the dinner party which immediately taints the image you've had of your boss but still, it's good money so you might change your mind. You're not sure.

You're not sure about anything these days.

Mingi texted so many times. Even called a couple but you've ignored all of it. Leaving your phone on silent and even tempted to turn it off completely.

The messages start all the same...'I'm sorry, can we-' and 'Please allow me to explain-' and well, that's all you can see on your phone without actually opening them.

Since it's Friday, you get to pack up your stuff and leave early. While you're at the market picking out some fresh fruit, you come to an idea...or more of a conclusion. You need a couple of days by yourself. You need to be on your own and figure yourself out.

But how do you do that when you have a roommate? The thought of kicking Wooyoung out isn't even a possibility even though Yeosang would definitely let him stay at his place but that's something you refuse to get into.

So the only thing that remains, is that you leave.

When you walk into your apartment, Wooyoung is already home. You can hear him shuffling around the kitchen as you take of your shoes in the small, narrow hallway and you sigh lowly before entering.

Your plan is just to leave the raspberries and plums you bought into the fridge and disappear into the bedroom but of course, Jung Wooyoung doesn't allow that.

"Hey, can...can we talk?" He asks cautiously, fully destroying your plan of just sneaking away in silence and you stop at the entrance of the hallway leading to your bedrooms and shared bathroom.

It would've happened sooner or later but you're real tired of 'talking' to anyone. "Yeah."

Wooyoung wrings his hands nervously, "I heard what happened with Mingi...and I know now might not be the right time... I want to be there for you. And in order for me to be able to be there for you, I need for you to be able to talk to me. So let me apologize...properly."

You just stare at him in silence and he takes it as his cue to continue.

"I'm sorry for lying to you and hiding stuff from you. I wanted to tell you at the beginning but things just kept escalating and I kept putting it off because I knew you would be upset. I wanted to do it on my own terms, sit you down and calmly explain everything to you and tell you about...Yeosang and when it happened so unexpectedly I lost control of the situation and I said stuff I didn't mean, I handled everything in the worst possible way and I'm sorry. But I'm not...I'm not going to break up with him, I...I really like him, love him I think and I'm sorry. I'm really sorry." He finishes quietly and you run your tongue over your top row of teeth as you observe his taller figure, nervously fidgeting a couple of feet away from you.

"Okay." You give him a nod and turn to walk to your room again.

"O-Okay?" Wooyoung calls after you hesitantly, "That...that's it?"

You stop again, turning to him, "What do you want me to say?"

He huffs, "I don't know. Anything. More than this, that's for sure."

You know he feels awful. You know it. Because Wooyoung loves you. You two are more than friends, you're family and you love him too. He's the most important person in your life and maybe that's why you're so closed off now.

The most important person in your life hurt you immensely.

"Do you want me to tell you that I forgive you?" You start off, your voice raspy and low. "Because I don't but I'll say it if it will make you feel better."

He opens and closes his mouth before shaking his head furiously, "No. No, that's not what I want but I just want you to talk to me again. I'm not saying this to make myself feel better."

"We're talking, aren't we?" You shrug with a chuckle, avoiding his eyes as yours start to burn again. You're so tired of crying.

"Y/N, you know what I mean." Wooyoung groans, running a hand through his jet black hair that he's been growing out recently. "I hate that you're avoiding me and that-"

"Yeah, well I'm fucking hurt Wooyoung." You cut him off snippily and he immediately clamps his mouth shut. "I'm sorry that's an inconvenience for you but I'm hurt. You lied to me. You hid stuff from me and then you got angry that I got upset because of that and mind you, I have every fucking right to be upset because you know what happened between Yeosang and I. And then..." You pause swallowing down your tears, "And then you threw the thing with San in my face despite...despite knowing everything. You knew I wasn't like that anymore, you knew I never kept anything from you after that but you still said it because you wanted to hurt me."

Wooyoung presses his lips together, harshly blinking away the tears as you try to keep your own at bay.

"I just..." You pause, biting on your lower lip and focusing your gaze on the blank wall next to you so the tears don't fall and you don't get swept away by your emotions but all of that is always easier said than done. "I never want to hurt you."

You continue through a whisper, "Every time we fought and I'd get so angry that I wanted say so much shitty stuff just so I could come out as the winner but I never did because I never want to hurt you..." Trailing off, your face twisting as you swallow down the tears, "So why was it so easy for you to hurt me?"

Wooyoung seems heartbroken by your last admission, brows furrowed and bottom lip trembling as his jaw locks into place and teary eyes stare into your own. He shakes his head quickly, "It's not-...I wasn't-...."

He doesn't know what to say because really, what can you say to that?

You try to put yourself in Wooyoung's shoes, wondering what you would say and then you realize that you have no idea how to even apologize let alone do enough to be forgiven.

Apart from the time you woke up to a silent Seonghwa by your side in the hospital, you don't remember ever apologizing in your life to anyone. And you definitely had apologies to give.

Girls who wanted to be your friend in middle school so they were an easy target, boys who liked you in high school so they were fun to play with and drag along like puppies, people who tried to stand up against you and only got burnt in return, people who simply looked at you wrong sometimes...

Years of purposefully inflicting pain onto others because you were in pain yourself and having so many apologies to give that you don't even remember all the faces that you've been cruel to when you just wanted to feel more...or sometimes less.

It didn't mean that you never felt guilty over it but usually, it was a temporary type of guilt that would pass as days, hours, sometimes even minutes trickled by and then you would never think of the person you hurt again. You wonder did they think of you more? Did they remember?

You hope not. You hope they haven't thought about you once after they stopped hurting. You don't think you're someone worth remembering.

Do you even deserve to stand here and accept apologies? Did you have the right to ask Mingi for anything? To be chosen? Why?

You're not a good person.

The more you stand in front of a silent Wooyoung who is sniffling in the middle of your apartment, the harder you spiral and it becomes more difficult to be surrounded by anyone.

"I'm leaving for a couple of days." You break the silence looking straight ahead as Wooyoung's head snaps up, face falling.

"L-leaving where?" He asks, wiping away the tears under his eyes.

"Just somewhere."

"Y/N, you can't leave. Where the fuck will you go?" He asks, the previous fragile exterior quickly hardening up the more he sees how serious you are.

" Yes, I can and I'll figure it out." You respond back, already tracking back to your bedroom.

"Don't fucking leave. If you need to be alone then I'll leave for a couple of days but..."

"It's not about just you, Wooyoung." You say loudly, turning over your shoulder to level him with a look. "I just need to leave the apartment-"

"Then go for a fucking walk and then come back!" Wooyoung throws back equally loud and you groan, mussing up your hair as you fully turn to face him.

"It's just for the weekend."

"I don't give a fuck! You're not leaving all of a sudden to go God knows where-!"

"And I'm not asking you for permission!" You yell back. "We're both adults who do whatever the fuck we want, aren't we? So now, I'm going to pack a bag and leave and you're going to let me."

You slam the bedroom door in his face, tears burning once again at the corners of your eyes as you pull out your small duffel bag from where you placed it in your closet and throw in a couple of articles of clothes in it. The hallway is empty when you open the door, so you quickly shuffle into the bathroom and collect your skincare and toothbrush before weaseling into your room again.

You pack your sketchbook as well along with some pencils.

When everything is done, you stand in the middle of your bedroom and rub your eyes with a sigh, definitely smudging up your make-up in the process.

What are you doing, Y/N?

Not allowing yourself to start doubting, you make sure you have everything before you fling the door open and head straight for the front door.

"Don't leave." He weakly calls out and it's only then you notice that he retrieved to his own bedroom and only came out when he heard your door open.

You stop in your tracks at how vulnerable he sounds but you just want to be alone now.

"I'll be back on Sunday, Young-ah." You say equally as quiet, not having the bravado to even look at him before opening the front door and walking out.

There was a small hotel on the edge of the city that you've often admired because it was pale pink.

You've never stayed there for a couple of reasons. One being that you lived with your parents and had no reason to book yourself a room anywhere else in the city. Another being that it wasn't a fancy hotel but something considered below you back then.

It's why you decide to go there now.

They give you a single bed room with a balcony, a humble mini fridge and a dresser on which you place your duffle bag.

It's a three star hotel but it was clean. Clean sheets, clean bathroom, clean towels. And at the moment, you really didn't need anything more.

So you change from the clothes you went to work in and into a pair of white cotton pants and a T-Shirt that you suspect is Wooyoung's but you absentmindedly stuffed it into the bag when you were packing. Clipping your hair back in a low bun, you open the balcony door wide open and sit down behind the small table fixed in the corner, carrying the bottle of whiskey you found in the mini-fridge and a glass.

It was nearing 7 p.m. and the summer heat was slowly simmering down so you lean back, observing the view in front of you of the city and all it's modern beauty.

Your eyes fall to your handbag sitting on the dresser inside the room and you stand up with glass in hand, walking over it and pulling out your wallet.

The white business card sits tucked between the numerous pieces of paper, coupons and cards and you pull it out, throwing it onto the surface of the dresser.

Your phone is next to it.

After a long moment of contemplation, biting your lip in thought and eye flickering over the figures printed on it - you grab your phone.

He comes nearing sundown, two knocks on the hotel door which have you standing up and walking towards the door with a sigh before unlocking it.

San stands leaning on the doorframe, head cocked to the side and dark eyes immediately latching onto yours.

"Didn't peg you as the type to bring your lovers to hotel rooms. You're really a changed woman now, Y/N." He says, lips perking up.

"Get in." You with an eye roll before turning around and heading for the balcony again but not before picking up an extra glass from the tray.

"Okay, wow, you're in a mood." He comments, lips folded in a pout when he finds you back in your chair on the balcony and plops himself in the chair next to yours. "Bad day?"

You snort in response; one- because yeah, bad day is an understatement and two- it's San who is asking.

Silently, you pour him a drink before refilling your own glass.

You pull your legs up on the chair and lean your chin against your knee as you watch him take a sip. San grimaces at the taste, tipping the glass towards you in question.

You sigh. "It was in the mini-fridge."

The whiskey is no doubt cheap. You wouldn't know because it's not usually your drink of choice but it seems like it is San's who instantly recognizes the difference.

Snob.

"Ah."

You fall into an oddly comfortable silence, both staring at the view in front of you. The sun is almost set now, the sky painted the most beautiful mix of oranges and purples and pinks that you've seen in awhile.

"Okay, so since you don't seem like you have any intention of speaking even though you were the one who, y'know, called me up here...I'll start." San says popping his lips as he places his glass on the table, you feel him glance at you from the corner of your eyes. "It's a rather...delicate subject from what I could gather but I think it's best if I just ripped off the band-aid."

At that you turn to him slightly intrigued at whatever bullshit is about to spill from his mouth.

"You called me so I have your number now, right?" Your eyebrow furrow at the question before he continues, "I was wondering if...if I could give it to Seonghwa."

You don't know if your expression gives you away. You try to smooth out your features but your jaw is clenched so tight you think your teeth might break.

You observe San's expression, his eyes boring into yours from across the small garden table between the two of you, trying to gauge if he just somehow found out who your brother is and is just fucking with you.

But San, for all the times he was cruel, isn't that cruel.

"How the fuck do you know Seonghwa?" You whisper, voice coming out slightly hoarse and confusion only deepening when you see San grimace.

"It's a long story." He chuckles almost awkwardly and you clench your jaw again.

"Amuse me."

San sighs, head tipping forwards a bit in contemplation before he straightens out again. "When I got your letter, thanks for that by the way it was a real...whatever, he came to the frat and beat the shit out of me."

Your jaw drops at that in genuine surprise because it just doesn't sound like Seonghwa. At all.

Your brother did boxing occasionally for shits and giggles with his friends but physical altercation is so not him. He couldn't hurt a fly.

"Seonghwa did?"

San chuckles bitterly, almost pained by the question.

"Oh, he sure did. Broke my nose, busted my lip, black eye...yep, the whole package." He recollects with a sigh, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest. "But that's not...anyway, that's not the point."

You open your mouth ready to ask for more information but he is quick to derail the conversation.

He seems...embarrassed. "Um, a couple of days after that I stopped by your house thinking your mom or dad would be home so I could ask them for your number or e-mail or I don't know...something."

As the shock crosses your face, San is quick to explain.

"Don't overthink it!" He quickly defends himself then lets out a low groan, tipping back the rest of his glass. "I wasn't trying to do a romantic gesture or anything-"

"Oh, God forbid." You comment sarcastically. Of course Choi San would think being romantic is the worst thing in the world. He just shoots you a quick glare before continuing.

"I just wanted to...uh," His finger runs over the tip of the glass, eyes avoiding yours, "Wanted to apologize, I don't know."

You stay silent at that and he sighs again, licking his lips before looking up to you again.

"But they weren't there, instead Seonghwa opened the door and after the, y'know, initial urge to break my face...again, he, uh, let me in. I think it was because he was drinking so it made him all...sentimental and shit." Yeah, that sounds like your brother. "But anyway, he offered me a drink, we got to talking a little bit and yeah..."

You stare at him, gaping.

"So, wait, so...you're friends with my brother...?"

San grimaces at that again, "Well, I wouldn't really call us friends. I'm pretty sure Seonghwa hates me and," He scoffs with an eye roll, "It's not like I'm awfully fond of him either but we sometimes go to a bar and just be...bitter and miserable adults together."

"Oh, so you're fucking friends with my brother now." You conclude sharply, nodding as you run your tongue over the top row of your teeth while staring at the city lights in front of you.

"But can I? Give him your number?" He asks again, this time quieter, "I didn't mention seeing you again or anything and it's sort of making me feel like shit because I know he'd love to hear from you."

You swallow down all the emotion pilling up in your throat. You hadn't seen Seonghwa since the day you got disowned but you surely thought about him. Often. For better or for worse, you always will love Seonghwa.

He was your hero and it's hard to just will all of that away.

"I'll think about it." You say in the end, tipping the rest of your glass back and immediately going in for a refill before pouring into San's glass as well.

"That's all I ask." He nods in thanks when you slide his glass over to him. "So, now that we got that out of the way; Why did you call me here?"

Now it's your turn to avoid his gaze. You focus on the cars passing by below you and pursue your lips.

"I...I don't know." It's such a shitty answer. The last thing you wanted San to think was that you invited him so you could fuck him. Given your history, you can't exactly blame him for it but it's not why.

Since you've seen San again, the thought of sleeping with him hadn't crossed your mind.

Not because you don't find him sexually appealing anymore, no, you don't think that will ever happen. It's not possible with San.

But maybe, you just stopped chasing for relationships where the only goal is to get off. They leave you feeling empty, hollow. You want to be whole.

And there is something about San and everything you've been through with him that makes you want to talk to him.

"My life is kind of shitty right now and I feel like every single relationship I have is falling apart one way or another and I don't know what to do so I just..." You trail off shaking your head, not knowing where you're going with this.

"I understand." San responds quietly. You let out a bitter laugh.

"You do?" You ask meanly, cocking your head at him with a smirk.

He doesn't take it to heart. "Yeah, sometimes you need to spill your guts to someone who you don't like all that much just to hear what they'll say and who's better than the asshole you were hooking up with in college."

"Shit." You let out unintentionally because maybe he does get it. He lets out a laugh.

"Why do you think I have your brother for?" San asks jokingly and you let out a snort at that. He snickers, pushing your shoulder gently with his hand. "So tell me, princess, what's going on?"

So you do tell him. Everything.

You tell him about Mingi. About what happened two years, what happened at the beginning of summer, what happened yesterday.

Then you tell him about Wooyoung. About Yeosang. About everything. You notice how his eyes dim a bit at the mention of Yeosang's name.

The pain, the tears, the anger - you tell San all of it until he's staring at you silently when you finish.

"Well, shit." He chooses to be his opening words, "I can see what you're so fucked up about now."

"Yep." You take another gulp of the whiskey, the nasty overly strong and somehow sweet taste not even being that bad anymore.

"I know this might come off real fuckin' hypocritical but you have to give me more than that. Like, what's the actual issue here?" San asks, grabbing the half empty bottle by now and pouring himself another glass. You give him a confused look. "What I got from this is that they both apologized so what's the actual problem? Forgiving them?"

"It's not..." You start but pause, mulling over your next words. "I'll forgive both of them but...it's not...it doesn't feel enough."

You quickly fix your words, "It's enough with Wooyoung. I'll be mad and sad over it for awhile and then...things will go back to normal because he's Wooyoung. I have a feeling I'd forgive him if he killed someone."

"So, Mingi...?" He asks, taking another sip before pulling out his pack of cigarettes from the back pocket of his jeans. He offers you one and you take it with a sigh.

"Yeah, Mingi." You nod, leaning closer when he offers you a light before lighting up the stick between his own lips. "I don't know...I...It's going to sound stupid."

"It might but it doesn't matter." San shrugs blowing out the smoke. "I don't judge."

You stare at him, taking a drag from the cigarette silently. The alcohol makes you more loose-lipped so it's easier to talk even about the things that have been eating you up inside for so long.

"I don't like how he didn't choose me."

"Of course." San nods, flicking the cigarette in the small metal ashtray on the table.

"But he apologized...he feels bad about it...." You trail of weakly, not sure of your own defense.

"So what?" He shrugs, looking at you for a response as he takes another drag. "He apologized because it's the right thing to do but you don't owe him anything."

"But-"

"Y/N, do you wanna be with him?"

"Yeah," You nod before pursuing your lips, "But I don't want to be with someone who just...who just ditched me like that. It doesn't feel okay. It makes me...it feels wrong to me."

And that is the complete and honest truth. You want to be with Mingi. He makes you feel warm and fuzzy and everything you expect you should feel in a relationship with someone but the choice he made two years ago drove a wedge through you and now sits in your chest like a stake which you just can't pull out.

"Well there you have it." San says as if it's the easiest thing in the world. You scoff.

"It's not that simple."

"It feels pretty fuckin' simple to me." He shrugs and it makes you roll your eyes in annoyance. San bites on his lower lip before he decides to speak again. "You shouldn't lower your standards or force yourself to get over something that's obviously bothering you just because you want to be with someone."

"But," You chuckle humorlessly just to hide the tears brimming at your eyes as you turn forward again, to avoid his gaze. "Do I even deserve to have those standards?"

San looks at you in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I just think I'm asking for too much considering I'm not exactly a person that deserves all of that." You say quietly, taking another drag of the cigarette before exhaling. "I'm a bad person, San, do I even deserve to ask someone to pick me? Shouldn't I just be happy that he seems to want to be with me now?"

San stays silent next to you and you clench your jaw, fearing what his response may be. You might've asked him to come here to talk but that still doesn't mean you're not scared of getting hurt.

"That's bullshit."

"Wha-" You open your mouth in frustration but he interrupts with a shake of his head, eyebrows raised as if he's telling you the most obvious thing in the world.

"It's bullshit." He shrugs, taking a last drag from the cigarette before putting it out in the ashtray. "First of all, you're not a bad person, Y/N, I don't know who told you that but you're not. It takes more than saying a few mean words to be a bad person."

"Second of all, don't ever allow yourself to feel like you don't deserve something you want." San states with determination. You open your mouth but he holds his hand up, "No, listen, when you're shopping, right?"

You groan because of course. Of fucking course, San would still associate you with shopping.

"Listen, when you're shopping for, I don't fuckin' know, a bag or something do you buy a bag even though you're like, 'hm this one doesn't have enough pockets and I don't really like the color and it might be too small but it's okay I'll still buy it'...?" You stare at him. "No, you fuckin' don't. You're buying it. You've investing in it. So it should be perfect. It needs to be the best fucking bag in the entire mall."

"Mingi isn't an object, San. He isn't a thing I invest in so I don't see how-"

"Well, obviously he's not a thing but of course you invest in him. You invest your time, your feelings, yourself." He lists holding up his fingers, "So if you're investing all of that in him but still carry that burden of what he's done at the back of your mind then I don't really see the point? Why would you do that to yourself?"

"That's ridiculous." You let out a laugh. "Nobody is perfect, like, everybody will make mistakes. If everyone acted that way and just never got over shit, nobody would be in relationships or have friends or-"

"But we're not talking about everyone here, Y/N, we're talking about you." San remarks giving you a pointed stare. "Some other person would maybe accept Mingi's apology and get over it and I'm not saying that's wrong but you are obviously still bothered by it even after the apology because you said it yourself, it feels wrong to be with him to you."

"And that's fine." He discloses softly and you swallow, taking another sip from your glass. "There's nothing wrong with that either. Nobody can tell you how to feel, Y/N."

You mull over his words, surprised that San of all people is so good at understanding others around him so well. You always took the fact that he was closed off emotionally as a sign that he didn't understand or read emotions all that well or that he didn't care but now you're starting to realize that maybe he reads them a little too well but just keeps it all to himself.

"Wouldn't it be a bit hypocritical to go back to how things were with Wooyoung but leave Mingi?" You ask unsure, the cool air of the summer evening feeling comforting on your skin.

You've thought about it since yesterday. After you told Mingi it might've been better if you hadn't started anything at all, yet still allowed Wooyoung to hold you as you cried.

"Maybe." He shrugs, taking another sip of the golden liquid from his glass, "But who cares? Like, they're not comparable at all in my opinion but genuinely, it's your life. You decide who you want in it."

"That's...a bit selfish, no?" You scrunch up your nose and San laughs lightly.

"Selfish? Sure but everyone is selfish." He gives you an 'are you kidding?' look when you look at him ready to argue, "Everyone is selfish. Everyone around you is selfish and everyone around me is selfish. You and I, we're selfish as well."

"I don't...not everyone..." You mumble, pouring yourself another drink. The alcohol is starting to hit fully now, San seems fine despite drinking more than you though.

"You think your friend wasn't selfish? He started seeing Yeosang despite knowing you were on bad terms with him, that's selfish." San points a finger at you as if to prove a point, "And then he hid it from you despite knowing it would hurt you because he just wanted to keep you and your friendship the way it was. That's selfish as well."

"Mingi as well, he didn't bring anything up even though he knew it would be the right thing to do because it was easier to pretend like nothing happened because he wanted you and knew that bringing it up would make it fresh again for you and maybe drive you away further." He remarks with a shrug. "It's all selfishness but I don't see it as a bad thing necessarily, it all seems to prove their love and care for you. But it's still selfish."

You don't dare interrupt his little rant, probably drunken ramblings at this point but you're equally as drunk and you want to listen.

"You know people sometimes say they want the best for you and sure, that might be true to an extent but really I see it as a 'I don't think you should do this because you'll feel like shit and as someone who cares for you, it will be an inconvenience to me because I'll feel bad as well because I love you' like, they still put themselves first in a way even without realizing it so maybe that's not selfishness but it sure damn is close to it." He nods with his lips folded in a natural pout, "And it's not bad, it's inherently human to be selfish."

You store everything he says at the back of your mind, hoping you will remember it in the morning.

"You know," You start off quietly after a moment of silence, "You're really good at this for someone who hates dealing with their feelings."

San smiles at you over the rim of his glass before taking another sip. "Maybe that's why I hate it. Because I understand how fucking complicated and hard it is."

You really didn't want it to get to this point. Where you're given a chance to talk about San but the opportunity is still too good to pass up on. After all this time, it would still be pretty sweet to figure him out.

"Don't you want someone?" You ask curiously, laying your cheek on your knee as you stare at him while running your finger over the rim of your glass. "To love you? To love?"

San sighs lowly, leaning back in his chair again as he stares out to the city. He murmurs slowly, "I don't think that's in the cards for me."

"Why not?" You push, the one question that's been plaguing your mind for so long. Why not, San?

"Because..." He starts, gaze casted downwards, "Uh, I don't think I would be good to them."

Your brows raise at that, cheek sloshed against your cheek and he glances at you for a brief moment before turning his eyes to the city lights again.

"I'm not saying I'd treat them badly, no, I can do all the superficial shit if I really want to like, remembering dates and buying flowers and being a good boyfriend but..." He smacks his lips in thought, "At one point, that won't be enough. They'd want to know me, want to know more than I want to show and I'd get... I don't fuckin' know, it would start being suffocating. Like I genuinely think I'd feel sick to my stomach as dramatic as it sounds because...it's scary. To be vulnerable."

"You know," He angles his body towards you and he continues speaking almost through a whisper, "That's why I draw the lines. Like, 'we can do this and we can do that but no feelings, no relationship'. And sometimes they'd think they're in love with me," His eyes are on you when he says it before they fall to the table, "And I'd pretend I don't see it because I'm doing them a favor, really. Despite popular belief, Y/N, inflicting emotional pain on women isn't something I enjoy. But making them think they have a chance by starting a relationship, making their feelings more real only for it to fall through in the end when they realize that I can't give them all of me...now, that's cruel. I don't want to do that."

He reclines back in his seat again and you're completely silent, the traffic from the world below you is the only thing heard.

“Boyoung...she might’ve been the closest thing to love I’ve known and the moment she started to want more, to know more, to ask more...I couldn’t do it. It’s like I couldn’t fuckin’ breathe when I was with her when she’d start asking about my parents, my childhood...anything that I obviously avoid. I just couldn’t. I tried that one time and I don’t plan on trying again. I’m just not made for it...” He trails off in thought, "I don't want to hurt anyone more than I have to so it's just best to do what I've been doing until I can."

"And for how long do you think that will work?" You wonder out loud, picking your head up to take another sip from your glass.

"For as long as I can drag it out." San responds quickly with a chuckle, "I've been working for about two years now. Big company, rich people, a lot of money...I'll be moving up the ladder soon and I already think I know what the rest of my life will look like."

"And? What does it look like?"

He starts with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "I'm on the way to becoming a workaholic so I'll mostly focus on that. Spend my twenties and thirties fucking around with different women because a relationship isn't an option and climbing up the company ladder. By the time I'm in my forties, I won't be as desirable to women anymore but I'll have money and probably a top position at the firm."

Listening carefully, you can't help but think what a miserable life that is.

"Then I'll marry someone younger because she'll make me look good but I won't love her. And that's okay because she won't love me either, she'll definitely marry me for the money and won't mind that I only gave her a small part of myself." San takes a sip of the whiskey, swallowing the drink with pursued lips, "And she'll cheat on me with the pool boy or some other younger guy because I'll always be working but that's also okay because I won't be faithful either. And I'll probably develop a drinking problem somewhere in between and we won't have kids because I don't want to bring innocent babies into such a fucked up marriage."

When he goes quiet, you can't help but watch him with furrowed brows and feeling awfully saddened.

"Why would you want to imagine your life like that?" You probe, strands of hair that were framing your face swaying in the cool breeze.

San shrugs, eyes focused on the city lights with his eyebrows pinched. "Just think that's how it's going to be...or at least something similar to it."

He turns to find you watching him and lets out a soft smile, "Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?" You give him a one sided shoulder shrug and he eyes you.

"Like you feel sorry for me. I don't need your pity." San shakes his head, looking away again. "If I wanted things to be differently I know what I'd have to do to change it but I simply don't see that happening anytime soon. Kind of a bummer, huh?" He glances at you, "How our futures depend solely on us and no-one else."

You give him a weak chuckle in return before both of you fall into another silence.

Another thought crosses your mind and you contemplate whether or not you should say it. You've already told San enough and he told you a little bit as well. But you're both silent now and there's nothing else to do so you decide to say it anyway. You're drunk so maybe you won't even remember it in the morning.

"I want to be in a relationship so badly." You start of shy, back to avoiding San's eyes when he turns to look at you, "I crave stability and I think that's why I started this...thing with Mingi again because he made me really happy back then so I thought...maybe it's not that important that he didn't choose me then if he's back now."

"Mhm," San nods in agreement, playing with the glass in his hand, "And I think you're worried that no-one will come after Mingi."

You scrunch up your face at that, "Well, that...that makes it sound like I'm settling for Mingi or something. It's not like that, he's not someone you settle for. He's great, anyone would be lucky to be with him."

San's expression twists up, "You need to stop putting everyone you're in a relationship with on such a high pedestal while downplaying yourself. You're making it seem like he's doing you a favor by being with you. Anyone would be lucky to be with you as well, Y/N."

"San." You warn him, shaking your head with a laugh.

"What?" He ponders, genuinely confused, "You know for someone who always seemed so confident and acted like they're better than everyone else, you are weirdly insecure."

Your jaw drops, "Uh, fuck you."

"I'm just saying," San groans, popping his lips again, " You have a lot going for you and you're always going to have options so even if things don't work out with him, someone else will eventually come along. If that's one of the things you worry about, I'm just telling you that you shouldn't."

That is one of the things that you worry about....a lot. If you decide not to pursue anything further with Mingi, what if everyone else that comes after him just doesn't treat you as good in comparison to him. And in the end, what if you regret letting him go?

Why couldn't you simply stomach what happened two years ago and just be with him?

"He's a good guy..." You trail off quietly, lips folding into a pout unintentionally.

"I'm sure he is but there are other good guys as well." He maintains eye contact with you, "If you want to be with him then it should be for the right reasons and if you're sure that you won't hold the past against him, not because you're scared of ending up alone or placing your own worries at the backburner for him."

You slump back on your knees as you let San's words sink in.

Forgiving Mingi is easy. You know he feels sorry, you know he didn't mean anything he said that day or yesterday, you know he cares about you in some way.

But letting go of the resentment you feel deep inside over not being worth the fight in his eyes and not holding that against him if you do decide to continue anything with him?

You are not sure you are capable of that.

So is it really fully forgiveness? If you can't let it go?

"This is such a mess." You sigh, pouring yourself another drink clumsily before handing the bottle to San.

"Tell me about it." He responds, speech slightly slurred.

"You really are good at giving advice though, maybe you should listen to yourself more often." You say teasingly, giving him a drunken smile.

San gives you a faint glare. "Shut up. You mention this to anyone and I'll deny every word."

You giggle. "Can't have people thinking you have a heart, yeah?"

"Exactly." He smiles before bringing the glass back up to his lips.

"So..." San starts, pulling you out of your thoughts after the moment of prolonged silence that enveloped you both as you stared at the city in front of you, "How is Yeosang?"

You glare at him. "Seriously?"

"Come on." He rubs the back of his neck, puppy eyes coming out the longer he stares. You sigh.

"He's working at the same IT company as Mingi and lives in a nice big apartment that he shares with a roommate I haven't met before." You list off from the top of your head, "He has a small poodle named Butter and he's also dating my best friend who just happens to be the best person in the world so...I'd say Yeosang won the life lottery out of all of us. Lucky motherfucker."

San goes quiet, rapidly blinking as he stares at the surface of the table but a ghost of a smile appears on his lips. "That's good, yeah."

"You want me to-..."

"No." He shakes his head immediately, already knowing what you were about to say. "I was shitty to him and after I apologized, he said he wanted nothing to do with me anymore. I have to respect that, reap what you sow."

You nod with a hum.

"Your friend is in good hands though, Yeosang is...great. Yeah, he's great." San adds and you nod your head absentmindedly, not really in the mood to talk about Yeosang.

"Why did you choose this hotel out of all places?" He asks suddenly, changing the subject as he turns his attention to you again. "Everything else was full?"

"No, uh," You glance at him, "It's pink."

There's a moment of silence and your cheeks warm up.

"Right." San smiles, dimples on display.

"Shut up." You grumble, grabbing your glass again and taking a sip as he laughs.

"No, it's cute." He adds when he's done laughing, "It's very on brand."

"Whatever."

You sit there for another hour, quietly murmuring drunken stupidities amongst yourselves as you keep drinking. When he mentions college days, it doesn't sting as much as you thought it would. It's so weird.

"I don't think I was ever in love with you." You murmur out of nowhere and San slows down his action of going after the bottle, eyes finding yours.

He smiles, "I know, Y/N."

Choi San was always an enigma. Something you desperately wanted to figure out and have because no-one else could. You mistook your ego getting wounded at the thought of not getting your way with him as love somehow but it was never love. You just didn't know it back then, too blinded by your pain and anger and Choi San's ability to be devastatingly irresistible.

He broke your heart multiple times but it was never a heartbreak that came from love, it was something else.

You smile as well and then sit up to snatch the bottle from his hand.

"Well, time to brotherly share this." You say swishing the small amount of whiskey left in the bottle which you divide as fair as you can between your two glasses.

"Cheers." San says quietly, clinking his glass against yours before you both take a sip.

After both of your glasses are drained and you are sufficiently drunk, San decides it's time to leave so you follow after to walk him out.

"The reception said your cab will be downstairs in two minutes." You tell him, waiting by the door as you watch him check if all his belongings are there and that he didn't leave anything behind on the balcony in drunken stupor.

"Okay." He nods, brushing past you and walking out.

"San," You call softly after him because it is the middle of the night now. He turns in question, just a step away from you. You pursue your lips, arms crossed over your chest as you stand leaned on the doorframe. "You can give Seonghwa my number."

His eyebrows perk up at that faintly but he nods in response.

"And..." You start, the words dying in your throat as you look at him, feeling oddly sad that he has to go.

"...and?" He insists turning to face you fully now, taller frame towering over you that you have to crane your neck a little to look at him.

"And after this, let's not see each other again." You tell him quietly, tears burning at the corner of your eyes but holding your head up high.

San smiles softly, surprising you when his hand reaches up and gently tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear before leaning closer and pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead.

He steps back, soft smile, soft eyes, soft voice. Soft. "Okay. Let's not see each other again."

You give him a watery smile, "Good night."

"Take care, princess. Good night." He gives you one last smile, dimples and all, before turning his back to you and walking away.

Locking the door shut, you make sure the balcony door is closed as well before plopping down on the still neatly made bed with a groan. You're out like a light in minutes.

On Saturday, you nurse your hangover and take full advantage of room service by ordering greasy food that you would usually avoid. You draw a little, back on the balcony.

You think you can imagine Miguel The Skeleton owning a pink hotel just like this but it's kind of a busted job because no human wants to go to a hotel owned by a skeleton wearing a hula skirt and a 50s grandma hat. Miguel The Skeleton doesn't look as smug at that revelation.

Maybe if he ditched the ugly hat, you tell him...Would make him look far more approachable.

You don't check your phone at all on Saturday, just put it on silent and leave it to get charged.

On Sunday, you're ready to go home.

In the morning, you take a nice shower and pack up all your belongings. Dutifully make sure all your pencils and papers are in place and get dressed in a floral dress that feels light on you which is perfect for the God awful temperature rising outside even if it's barely noon.

After you check out, you take a cab to your neighborhood and stop by the local restaurant to get lunch from there. Given everything, you still feel bad for just leaving Wooyoung like that. The two of you haven't been separated this long in the last two years and you don't know if that's a bad or good thing.

You unlock the front door and walk in, leaving your duffle bag in the hallway while taking off your shoes and walking inside, carrying the food you got in the plastic bag hanging from your hand.

As you place it on the dinning table, you hear a door slam open and footsteps stomping up to the main area.

"I brought food." You quietly say, focused on taking out the containers without letting anything spill that you don't even notice Wooyoung staring at you.

"You b-bitch." You hear him say, more like whimper and it immediately has your head snapping towards him, brows furrowed in confusion that melts to worry when you notice his disheveled state.

Red, swollen eyes, messy hair and tear-stained blotchy face. Dressed in his pajamas and just standing there, looking at you as his bottom lip wobbles.

"Wooyoung, what-" You straighten out slowly but he glares at you.

"Are you going to move out?" He's trying to glare, seem angry but all it does is make him look so vulnerable as more tears slide down his cheeks and his face scrunches up.

You do a double take.

"What?" You question as you near him cautiously, brows furrowed as your confusion deepens. "Why would I move out? I live here."

"Were you out for the weekend looking for a new place? Be honest with me! Is that what you were doing?" He interrogates you loudly, before breaking out in another sob that immediately has you latching onto his arm to calm him down. "Are you g-going to leave me? Yeosang said you wouldn't leave no matter h-how angry you a-are but I'm n-not so sure now!"

You sigh, placing your hands on his shoulders gently as he stares at his feet, tears dripping down his face.

"Well, it's hard for me to say this but Yeosang is right." You start off quietly, calm and collected. "I'm not going anywhere, Young-ah."

He sniffles, wiping the tears away with his sleeve before bringing his gaze up to meet yours. You immediately soften once you see the fear and insecurity in his eyes and you hate yourself for leaving a little bit despite having the full right to do so.

You place your hand on his cheek before giving him a small smile, "Wooyoung, I would never leave. I just took a little weekend vacation to the city, that's it."

He breaks at that, hands going up to hide his eyes as he cries. "I'm sorry. I'-I'm sorry, I'm s-so sorry. I'm-"

Your gaze softens and you start to realize that this took a toll on him more than you expected and on instinct, you grab him by the nape of his neck and pull him in for a hug as he latches onto the skirt of your dress while crying into your neck.

"It's okay." You whisper comfortingly to him but feel him shake his head against you.

"It's n-not okay! It's not. I h-hurt you and I-..every t-time I tried to talk to y-you I ended up m-making it worse and I'm s-so sorry-" Wooyoung rambles through his hears.

You push at his shoulder until he lets go of you and cup his face with your hands, your own tears threatening to fall.

Nobody can tell you how to feel, Y/N. San's words echo in your mind.

"Wooyoung, listen to me," You shush him gently, "I love you, Wooyoung and before we left for Paris, I made a promise to myself that I'd do my best for you to be happy, like you deserve and if Yeosang makes you happy then that's just something I'll have to get over, okay?" You wipe the tears under his eyes with your thumbs as he stares at you, face still crunched up, eyes glossed over with tears and lips wobbling as he tries to hold in his sobs, "So don't even think about that anymore. And the rest, well I'm hurt...and it might take awhile for us to go back to how things were but...but we'll get there. I swear, Young-ah, I'm not going anywhere and everything will be okay, hm?"

His face crumbles again as more tears fall but he nods shakily before burying his face in your neck. "I love you, too."

You sigh quietly, wrapping your arms around him again as your tears slowly get soaked up by his shirt.

You squeeze him lightly one more time before moving to untangle yourself from his hold and he steps back, wiping away his tears again. You smile faintly.

"Come on, I brought lunch from that place down the street." You tell him, heading to get the cutlery and plates from the kitchen cupboard as Wooyoung watches you for a second longer before following your lead and quietly grabbing the judge of juice from the fridge and a handful of napkins.

"There we go. Bon appétit!" You proclaim as you fill up your plate, trying to be as cheery as possible just to make him feel slightly better. Seeing him so down feels like a punch in the gut.

You both eat in silence, neither knowing what to exactly say so you just stick to keeping quiet until finally, Wooyoung starts.

"So...where did you go?" He asks hesitantly, voice hoarse and you perk up in your chair as you chew.

"Oh, I was in that pink hotel near the center." You say while chewing before you slow down, glancing to the side for a split second. "San came to see me there."

The revelation causes Wooyoung to start choking on the bite he was chewing and he quickly flails around, grabbing the napkin as he coughs into it. You take a sip of your juice and clear your throat before innocently taking a peak at him.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, y-yeah. Just went down the wrong pipe." Wooyoung croaks out, loudly clearing his throat before looking up at you.

You know he has a plethora of words for you right now and it's almost fun to watch him try to hold himself back from say them.

"Just say it." You shrug, bringing the chopsticks up to your mouth again and chewing.

"No, no, no. I'm not going to say anything." Wooyoung shakes his head, trying to play cool and you raise an eyebrow watching as his fingers bounce off of the surface of the dinning table for a moment, obviously in distress and knee probably bouncing underneath it. "Okay, fine! I am going to say something!"

Your lips quirk up. You didn't expect anything less.

"Did you-...Why-....I mean, what-..." It's almost amusing to watch him scramble for words, hands going around in the air as if it's enough to explain anything. He sighs, hands resting on the table, "Did you fuck him?"

"No." Is your quick and simple response.

He quirks an eyebrow, tilting his head to the side, "You...didn't?"

"No." You confirm one more time, "I invited him over, we drank and we talked and then I told him I don't want to see him again and he left."

"...oh."

"Yeah."

"Hm."

"Mhm."

Wooyoung sighs, standing up from his chair. "I need something stronger than this fuckin' orange juice. Do you want some vodka with that?"

"Uh," You look around the room, "It's a Sunday noon."

Wooyoung blinks, bottle of vodka already in his hand as he stares at you besides the open fridge.

"Sure." You nod, pushing your glass towards him.

Wooyoung tips a generous amount of vodka in your glass before doing the same to his and then returns to his seat, taking a big gulp.

He sighs in content before giving you his full attention, eyes puffy and hair still a bird's nest. "Now. Tell me everything."

You get tipsy while you re-tell Wooyoung all about your night with San filled with deep, drunken musings that create a ridiculous image in your head as it's not something you ever expected to have to describe.

Wooyoung is shocked, then slightly peeved then confused but all in all, seems to be interested by the newly developed relationship that ended on the same night it started. He even says he's proud of you and you don't exactly know what to say to that.

"So, what about Mingi?" He asks, leaning back against the couch. It's been an hour since the two of you moved to the living room with the bottle of vodka and jug of orange juice accompanying you.

You give him a look.

"Right." Wooyoung nods with his bottom lip jutted out in understanding.

Sighing, you run a hand through your hair. "I'll ask him to meet up this week. To talk properly."

"That's good. Clear the air completely." He says in a supportive manner, stretching his arms above his head.

"...yeah." Is what you decide to respond with. It's not just that, neither is it that simple but you are also not ready to talk to Wooyoung about your current feelings just yet. You might've told him about San but you didn't describe in details what you talked about like you usually would, more so kept to the funny bits and stuff that wasn't all to serious or specific. Not because you're trying to punish him or anything but just...you just can't. And that's okay. It is.

"I'm gonna go to my room." You add after a moment of silence with just the two of you lounging on the couch. "I have to unpack and...get ready for work tomorrow."

Wooyoung's eyes dim a little at the obvious distancing, it's barely noticeable but you know him well enough to read him. Still he gives you a small smile and nods, moving his legs out of the way to let you pass.

After unpacking the little clothes you brought and placing everyone back to it's original place whether it's skincare or sketching supplies, you open the window of your bedroom to let the fresh air in since there seems to be a slight breeze today and plop down on your bed with laptop on your lap, ready to maybe watch a movie or just waste time online...it makes no difference.

A random movie starts playing, just something to fill out the silence as you change into a comfortable pair of shorts and an old shirt before return to bed and get lost in your own thoughts, blankly staring at the screen while thinking of what to say to Mingi if....when you see him this week.

The buzzing of your phone from the nightstand interrupts you and you frown slightly when you see 'unknown caller' on the screen. Only a handful of people here know your new number...

"Hello?" You say into the speaker, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as your frown only grows when you're met with silence from the other side. "Hellooooo?"

Your lips part as a thought crosses your mind. It's silly. It's fucking ridiculous but hope is always the saddest feeling in the world and if you don't try, you feel like it will eat you up from inside. You take a deep breath,

"Hwa?" You ask with a shaky voice, clutching the phone to your ear as you wait for something. Anything.

"H-hey. Hi." His voice cracks from the other side and your eyes burn almost on command.

"Hwa, hi." You chuckle shakily, watery smile growing on your face because it's your brother. It's your brother, it's your brother, it's your brother.

"How, uh, h-how are you?" He clears his throat, "How are you, Y/N-ie?"

You sniffle, tears streaming down your cheeks and getting soaked up by the collar of your shirt. "I'm g-good! I'm-...I got back in May with Wooyoung...I, uh, I....mm, how are you?"

"I'm good as well, yeah." Seonghwa says softly over the other line, "I, uh, I-...San gave me your number. H-He told me that you said it's okay but I didn't...really believe him." He chuckles awkwardly, nervously, "So I...that's why it took me this long to call but I still...I still wanted to hear from you even if...even if he lied or something I still..."

Your face breaks at that and you try to muffle the hiccups with your hand before forcefully clearing your throat, "I d-did! I did, I said it's...it's okay."

A moment of silence ensues.

"Can I see you?" You ask self-consciously, timid of hearing his response.

"Y-Yes! Yeah," Seonghwa laughs nervously again, "Sorry, yeah...definitely."

"So, when..."

"Well, does tomorrow...? I-I mean do you have a-....Would tomorrow work?"

"I finish with work at four." You offer quietly, anxiously waiting to hear his response.

"Okay, so...so would around eight work?...Dinner?"

"Yeah, yeah...okay."

"That...that Italian place near the fountain in the center?" Seonghwa offers and you nod quickly before almost face palming, remember he can't see you.

"That works..." You utter softly and hear him sigh from the other line.

"Okay, great. So...so I guess I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah..."

You indulge in some small talk after that, nothing long or too important...mostly discussing the weather awkwardly if you were completely honest before biding him goodbye and placing your phone back on the nightstand before laying down in your bed, curled up but somehow with a heart that was starting to get halfway full.

The next day you're on autopilot for the majority of it, only being aware of the clock ticking away and every hour passing by while you giddily sit behind your desk at work and try to do some finishing touches to the illustrations.

As soon as the clock hits four, you are out of your seat like a skyrocket, packing up your bag in a rush and bidding the room a quick goodbye before heading for the stairs.

You're excited to see Seonghwa, you really are.

You can't even find it in yourself to be mad or hurt anymore because all you can feel is how much you've missed him. You've been missing him so long even before you left two years ago.

Maybe that's how siblings work. They hurt each other and hate each other but still nothing can break them apart in a way.

Blood is thicker than water after all.

Well, you have a couple of examples that have proven that to be wrong but still...Seonghwa is Seonghwa.

Wooyoung isn't home when you arrive so you take a quick shower and change into something more casual like a cute patterned mini skirt and white halter top, washing your face of any make-up you've had on before grabbing your bag and heading for the door again.

The Italian place Seonghwa mentioned as your meeting spot was a small restaurant where the two of you used to go to when you were younger, both sharing the same appetite when it came to cheese and pasta.

You worried that you might've arrived too early, almost half hour earlier than planned but you were nervous but excited, feeling too many things to just sit at home and wait as you watch the clock.

It seems like it wouldn't be too bold to assume that Seonghwa felt the same way because as you enter a little deeper into the restaurant, you spot a familiar figure sitting alone at the table in the corner and your heart jumps to your throat as you cautiously approach him, shy and unsure like he's not your own brother.

Seonghwa glances in your direction before doing a double take, immediately standing up from his seat, even from a couple of feet away you can see him fiddling with his fingers.

You clear your throat, gracing him with an awkward smile that probably resembles a grimace more than anything else because the longer you stare the more your eyes burn with unshed tears.

"Hey." He utters once you're close enough and you can't help yourself, you walk around the table and throw your arms around him like you're that kid once again who's only friend she had was her big brother.

His arms come around your frame, holding you tightly against him and you squeeze your eyes shut as you latch onto him.

"I'm sorry. I'm so...I'm so sorry, I-..." Seonghwa keeps repeating over and over again and you're not even sure what he is apologizing for but you forgive him. You don't know why or how but you forgive him.

You wish things were different, you wish you were never put into a situation where you didn't see him for two years and had to have him apologize like this but you forgive him. You will always forgive him.

"It's okay." You say quietly against his shoulder. He shakes his head.

"It's not okay. It's...it's not okay, I should've been there. I should've..." His voice cracks and you can tell he's holding back tears, "I should've done more, I should've done more to protect you, to help you, I should've..."

"It's okay." You interrupt him even firmer, pulling away to meet his eye as you step back slightly, "You're here now...right?"

It's never too late when it comes to your brother.

Seonghwa presses his lips together, face pinched as he blinks away the unshed tears before nodding decidedly. "Yes. Yes I am."

You nod as well with a small sad smile before clearing your throat again and pulling out a chair for yourself across from him.

It's awkward and neither of you know how to act, slipping into the siblings act proving to be more difficult than you expected but you don't mind. You missed him so, so much.

"I ordered, uh, press juice or something." He shakes his head with brows furrowed and a small smile on his lips, "So the waiter should be here soon, so you can order-"

"Yeah, yeah." You chuckle, not minding the wait as you lean your elbows on the table.

Seonghwa stays quiet and so do you, eyes coasting over the restaurant before settling back on him. His hair is shorter than it was before you left but still kept neat. He looks somewhat more mature, like a proper adult and it's odd. Does he think the same way about you?

Do you look like an adult?

You certainly don't feel like an adult. People often tell you to quit acting like a child. Parents told you that you weren't a kid no longer but you really can't remember when was the exact moment you grew up.

His eyes meet yours and his expression falters again.

"Y/N, I'm really...I'm..." Seonghwa starts but then pauses, probably searching for the right words to say.

Growing up, Seonghwa and you rarely fought but when you did, you never apologized to each other afterwards. You had no idea if that was how all siblings operated but the two of you would just act like nothing happened after you cooled off and then tried to butter each other up with being out of the ordinary nice to each other.

Maybe that's why you have trouble speaking now.

"I know." You assure him with honest eyes, "Me too."

Seonghwa seems thankful when he nods and then quickly jumps in to wave down a waiter that walks over to take your order.

Throughout the dinner, you indulge in small talk. Paris, work, Wooyoung, Seonghwa's new girlfriend. You both avoid the big elephant in the room but you can't go avoiding it forever, you have to ask even if it's just out of decency.

"How are mom and dad?" You ask before taking a bite of your pasta.

Seonghwa's chewing slows down and he glances at you before shrugging. "They're...same old mom and dad."

You both chuckle after that.

You haven't heard from your parents since that same night but your grandma, your mom's mom, called you one night while you were in Paris.

Apparently, to save face as always, your mother was telling everyone how Wooyoung and you escaped to France because the constant attention here was a bother to your relationship. More privacy where less people know you. So you both transferred schools to Paris to be a happy little couple away from the nosy upper circle and experience normalcy of the Average Joe.

What a load of bullshit that she was still trying to sell and his parents didn't seem to mind either. It was a quick explanation as to why neither of their kids were in touch with them that much when someone asks, even if it is a lie.

It caused your blood pressure to soar when you first heard it and almost made you not return to Seoul at all but in the end, Wooyoung managed to talk you into it thankfully.

The longer dinner stretches on, the easier it is to speak even if the subjects were still fairly superficial. But you really enjoy dinner.

"Will...Will I see you more often?" You ask quietly playing with the napkin on your half empty plate, timid of his response after so much time of getting brushed off and barked at by him.

Seonghwa's eyes soften as he stares at you, "Do you want to?"

"Yes...yeah." Is your immediate answer as you gulp down the happy tears.

Seonghwa seems to be doing the same thing, "Then yes. Whenever."

You wring your hands in front of your face as you look at him before nodding, "Okay."

"I'm really..." Seonghwa sighs before smiling again, glancing at you before looking away, "I'm glad we did this, kid. I'm really happy and you look...you look like you're doing very good, I'm proud."

"Thank you." You whisper, unusually shy to hear the praise but you always craved his approval.

"Would you like me to drive you home?" He asks, waving down the waiter again to get the check.

"Yeah," You sigh, draining your glass of juice, "It's getting kind of late."

Seonghwa snorts with eyebrows raised. "That is something I never thought I'd hear from you. It's barely past ten."

"Hey," You whine, "I'm a working woman now and I'm not so young anymore."

"So I take it you retired from the college parties and shitfests in general." He jokes and you scoff.

"Pfft, awhile back." He laughs again.

"Let's go." Once the check is paid, he gives you a ride to your apartment and you point out the window of your living room to him, you don't know why but it's just in case you guess. If he ever decides to stop by.

When you enter your apartment, you let out a sigh before tiredly taking off your sandals and walking inside.

Wooyoung is always doing something in your shared space. He makes the dinning table his work table on most nights so you're not all that surprised to see him sitting behind his laptop, glasses slipping down his nose as he types away, grumbling under his breath.

"Hey." You greet quietly and his head picks up in surprise.

"Oh, hey." You can hear the 'where-...' before he stops himself and your heart slightly aches. He's always so nosy but now keeps his distance as well until he figures out where exactly you two stand and when he's allowed to start butting in your business again.

You want to tell him about Seonghwa though. You're so happy to see your brother again and you want to share it with someone. Not just someone, your best friend. Your Wooyoung.

You leave your bag on the counter before turning around and leaning against it so you can look at Wooyoung.

You mull over your thoughts for a moment and when you glance at him, you already see Wooyoung staring at you in question.

Clearing your throat, you smile lightly. "I just had dinner with Seonghwa."

His eyes widen in surprise, "Seonghwa? You did?"

You nod, peering up at him and Wooyoung stands up from his seat and mirrors your position of leaning against the counter.

He nods, "That's really great, Y/N. Really...that's...I'm happy for you."

You don't know what to respond. You're happy too, heart full at 68% now and you smile lightly, staring at the floor.

You don't know what to say, so you just lean your head against Wooyoung's shoulder and he chuckles, wrapping his arm around you to gently rub your shoulder.

You: hey...

You: can we meet today?

Mingi: Yes

Mingi: What time

Mingi: And where

When you get to the park in your neighborhood, Mingi is already waiting.

He's sitting on one of the empty benches staring at the sun that's slowly setting and you feel your heart pitter-patter with dread.

"Hi." You greet him, sitting down next to him but making sure there is some space between the two of you. Mingi gives you a small smile.

"Hey."

"Uh," You decide to start first, "I'm sorry for just leaving like that last week and then...not answering your texts and stuff, I needed some time to think about everything."

"...it's okay." He says quietly, still staring in front of himself before taking a deep sigh. "I want to tell you something before you say anything else."

"...okay." You abide, placing your small handbag in your lap as you basically straddle the bench so he can have your full attention. When Mingi notices your movement, he does the same thing.

He sighs again. "Remember two years ago, you asked me if I thought that you weren't worth the fight?" His eyes trail up to yours and you nod in confirmation in confusion. "Well, I definitely don't think that because I'm pretty sure I fought with Boyoung every single day for a whole year after you left."

You look at him in confusion and Mingi chuckles, "I might've not fought when it mattered but when I...turned you down...I was so angry and resented Boyoung so much for something that wasn't even her fault that I just nagged and snapped at her and..." He rubs his face with one hand, "I was so angry at myself for what I've done to you, what I said that day, that I took it all out on her until our friendship crumbled completely. She never even knew that the two of us had...a thing back then." He shrugs almost pitifully, "I ended up losing both of you in the end. I turned you down because I wanted to be a good friend I guess and then I wasn't a good friend because I liked you so much that I resented her until I chased her away."

"That's not my fa-"

"I'm not saying it's your fault." Mingi quickly interrupts you, voice soft and eyes reassuring, "It's my fault completely but I'm just telling you this in case you think I took what I did lightly. I realized I made it seem like that when I mentioned Wooyoung last time, like I was downplaying what I did but I always knew that I did wrong by you, I just never knew how to handle it properly."

He gently takes your hand, fingers starting to play with your own and he stares at your two intertwined hands while you stare at him, heart pitter-pattering again louder and louder.

"I'm sorry for what happened that day, for what I said and how I acted and for not...for being so fucking passive that I let you slip away without a fight because you are most certainly worth the fight, Y/N." Your eyes gloss over as you stare at him, "I'm sorry about last time as well, I had no right to attack you like that about San. I literally...I literally behaved the exact same as I did two years ago. Got insecure and took it out on you."

Mingi glances up at you, licking his lips nervously. "I'm really sorry. Whatever happens between us, I need you to know I'm sorry."

You nod after a moment of contemplation. "Thank you."

Now, it's your turn.

You've spent days tossing and turning in your bed at night, thinking if the choice you're about to make is the right one.

And you don't know. You may never know if it's the right choice or if it's something you will regret for the rest of your life but in this moment, it's your choice.

Only yours and no-one else's.

"Mingi, the reason why I asked you to meet me today is because I wanted to bring it all to an end in the right way..." His eyes falter a bit and you squeeze his hand, biting your lip before you continue, "I don't want you to...I guess that I don't want you to carry this burden with you anymore, what's done is done." You try to comb through your thoughts a bit better, jumbled mind making it hard to form sentences when he's staring at you and hanging onto every word that leaves your mouth, "What I'm trying to say is that I understand why you did what you did. I get it, objectively I can't blame you for it because I wish Wooyoung would've done the same for me." You chuckle and his mouth quirks up a bit.

"I forgive you...but I don't think we should be together." You continue and his eyes cast downwards again, your own start to burn as you try your hardest to blink away the tears, "I like you a lot, I already told you that but I can't get past it. I know myself, the first big fight we'd have when we'd be screaming at each other's faces and trying to take digs at each other, when I'd have nothing else to say, I would throw you not choosing me in your face because I'd know you wouldn't have anything else to say to that."

Mingi opens his mouth to refute you but you shake your head with a smile, "I would. I'm that kind of person. Even when I say that I forgive you, which I do, there is still a part of me that resents you and I don't think that will ever change."

You look down at your joined hands, "And you don't deserve that. You don't deserve to have to tip-toe around someone you're in a relationship with or be with someone that resents you in any way for something you've done two years ago and I...I deserve to be someone's first choice in that moment. I deserve to have someone choose me."

"I'm choosing you now." Mingi says, voice hoarse and you look away to stop the flood of tears from coming.

"There's nothing to choose from now." You say quietly. No decision to be made, only cheapened stakes that make the choice obvious.

You gently graze his cheek with your free hand and he picks up his eyes to look at you. He seems on the verge of tears as well.

"You're a good guy...you're a great guy. I'm not doing this out of pettiness or because I'm trying to punish you or something. You...you were the closest thing I ever had to love." His face crumbles a bit at that and you can't keep the influx of tears at bay anymore, "But I deserve to have someone choose me when things get hard and I don't want to continue this relationship that will become emotional torture for both of us sooner or later because it will, it's just how the two of us are it seems..."

"I still think we made a mistake by starting a relationship like this again but..." You trail off, thumb still running circles on his cheek as his eyes bore into yours and bigger hand squeezes yours, "But I don't regret a single second of it even if it ended. It was a really great summer, I enjoyed spending it with you." You give him a watery smile.

"I'm sorry." He whispers shakily and your smile falters, tears still streaming down your cheeks and collarbones, getting soaked up by your shirt.

"Me too." You whisper back, leaning over and pressing your lips to his. A small indulgence you allow yourself just this time before pulling away and burying your face in his neck.

Mingi's arms quickly wrap around you, as he pulls you deeper into his chest and his hand smooths your hair falling down your back.

You don't know how long you stay crying, wrapped up in each other but the sun sets, the night encapsulates you and with the utmost strength you part from him.

You bid Mingi one last goodbye with a smile and then turn around and walk away.

When you walk into your apartment, all the lights are off and you hear Wooyoung in his room probably watching something on his laptop. So you quietly strip and pull on your pajamas before washing your face squeaky clean and then your teeth, trying not to dwell on how red and puffy your eyes are as you stare into the mirror's reflection before tip-toeing to his side of the hall and into his room.

He's laying in bed with his laptop on his lap watching 'Succession' you believe and he turns to you, surprised.

"Hey-" You don't allow him to finish, you quietly climb into his bed and snuggle into his side.

Wooyoung is still faintly frozen in surprise but he lets out a small breath and moves his arm to wrap it around you, "You okay?"

You nod.

"I'm okay."

Time stops for no-one.

The days continue to trickle by. You see Seonghwa more often (usually for coffee or lunch) and each time you do it feels like it gets easier to talk to him.You know that one day, it will be like when you were thirteen again - when it was the two of you against the world.

(He never mentions San and you never ask.)

Only this time you have Wooyoung as well, with whom you go back to normal easily. Easier than you expected after the initial bump in the road, you never ask about Yeosang though and he never mentions him which you think is a bit unfair to Yeosang.

Now, you might not like the guy all that much but...obviously Wooyoung doesn't plan on letting him go any time soon.

So against your better judgement, you tell Wooyoung that he can invite Yeosang (and Butter) to hang out at your apartment. You invite Seonghwa as well.

It's been a couple of weeks since you stopped working at the publishing company and are back to being a freelancer and doing illustrations for smaller businesses while focusing on your own art in between.

On that God forsaken Friday, you invite Seonghwa and Yeosang back to your place after work and Wooyoung orders take-out and buys beers for everyone.

Yeosang and you don't talk much. You don't really have much to say besides the times it is polite to speak to him but hey, at least the animosity is gone.

He seems to be shy and timid towards you and it takes you by surprise as those were the words you never associated him with before but Wooyoung doesn't seem surprised at all, so you conclude that Yeosang may be a shy person in general only you never saw it because you two were constantly at each other's throats.

Wooyoung puts on Succession again which seems to be a new obsession of his and you don't mind, finding the character of Roman Roy to be quite amusing as you all sit in the living room with the food and drinks and watch the show, someone throwing in a comment or two once in awhile.

"Hey," Seonghwa calls out from the other side of the couch and you turn to him in question, "Can I talk to you for a sec?"

You glance at Wooyoung and Yeosang who notice the conversation but don't pay it much thought. You nod at Seonghwa before you motion for him to follow you.

"Oh, cozy set-up you got here." He says, throwing himself on the chair by your desk, you chuckle sitting down on your bed.

"Thanks. So what's up?" You ask, leaning back on your palms.

"So," He drags out with a small grin, "I was thinking, I'm going to New York next month for work but nothing too much, it's more out of courtesy than anything."

You blink at him, "Okay?"

"How would you like to come with?" He asks, eyes gleaming with excitement.

You frown faintly, "Is this...does this have anything to do with mom or dad-"

"What? No! Fuck them!" Seonghwa interrupts you quickly, "So? You wanna go?"

You chuckle as you stare at him in disbelief, "To New York?"

"Yep. Three weeks."

"Three weeks? I can't go to New York for three weeks, Hwa." You scold him and he frowns at you.

"Why not? You work from home now, right? It might be good for some new inspiration, y'know, might meet some new connections there. I can set you up, I know people." He winks at you and you roll yours. Seonghwa barely knows any people. "We could spend time together, just the two of us. Autumn in New York is something else from what I hear."

"And I hear they have rats the size of skunks. Definitely something else." You deadpan and he laughs.

"That might be something new to see as well."

You sigh, "I have to think about it. Three weeks isn't that short of a time."

"Well, you can always return early or something." Your brother shrugs in response, already standing up from the chair.

"That's it?" You ask, wondering if that was all he wanted to talk about.

"Well, yeah. Just wanted to ask." He chuckles, moving towards the door.

"I'll think about it..."

"Okay."

When you both return to the living room, you notice Wooyoung not even hiding the way he eyes you while Yeosang glares at him.

"And what were you two whispering about that the rest of us can't hear, hm?" He asks nosily, crossing his arms over his chest as Yeosang facepalms.

"Nosy ass." You mutter, plopping down in the seat next to him on the couch.

"I was just asking Y/N if she wanted to come to New York with me next month." Seonghwa explains with an easy smile, being the ever people pleaser he was.

"New York?!" Wooyoung quickly passes the current episode as he turns to you with wide eyes. "You can't leave for New York, what if you don't come back?!" He cries out.

"You are so ridiculous, why wouldn't I come back?"

"So you're going?!"

"Well, I said I'll think about it but I'll definitely come back to Korea, Wooyoung, for the last time, I live here." You roll your eyes in humor as Seonghwa snorts from the other side of the couch.

"New York is nice during fall, the Central Park..." Yeosang trails off once all three of you turn to stare at him. Wooyoung is glaring at his boyfriend.

"Wooooow, Yeosang, don't be so happy. I bet you just can't wait to see me go." You drawl out with a stoic face and you see Yeosang pale, quickly glancing at Wooyoung and blinking rapidly. You almost feel bad when you think he might cry.

Wooyoung laughs, pulling his boyfriend closer by the neck, "She's fucking with you."

Yeosang turns to you again like a deer caught in headlights and you glance at him before turning to the screen again.

"Not you just wanting me to leave so you can..." You motion with your chin towards your best friend who sits between the two of you with a shit-eating grin, "Just so you can do things to my Wooyoung, Yeosang."

Yeosang gapes at you, cheeks flushing red and you press your lips to stop the grin from showing as you go back to watching the TV. Seonghwa snorts but Wooyoung goes all out, almost throwing himself in your lap from laughter.

The sound of it makes your facade break and you let a small smile show once you see the look of pure happiness on Wooyoung's face.

Poor Yeosang, completely red in the face, glances between all of you before pointing at himself, "Me-" Then points to Wooyoung, "-doing things to him?"

"Hey-" Wooyoung tries to defend himself but the laughter overtakes him again.

"Y/N, your best friend is the literal Spawn of Satan." Yeosang deadpans, smacking Wooyoung's thigh who tries to pull him closer but Yeosang smacks him away again lightly, "I am the innocent one here who somehow gets caught up in all of his debauchery."

Seonghwa laughs loudly at that and you let out a laugh as well because you can definitely see that to be true.

"Oh, somehow gets caught up!" Wooyoung rolls his eyes at Yeosang, voice sarcastic. "Oh, okay!"

Once the laughter and teasing has died down, Yeosang leans back on the couch with a small grin, throwing you a glance that you pretend not to notice.

Two days later, you text Seonghwa.

You: new york sounds nice.

(One year later)

One room is the bedroom while the smaller one across the hall is designated for the art supplies, a big wooden sketching desk with papers thrown across it pulled up to the window, painting aisles leaning up in every corner and blank or filled canvases stacked up against the wall. A huge book shelf stretches across the wall filled with pencils and brushes all divided into neat jars and other art supplies lining the shelves below it.

The kitchen is a pretty marble green color with cooking books that she doesn't really touch that often stacked up in an open cupboard and a small shelf for spices that her best friend set up, especially for her. The counter is filled with whatever newest hobby is occupying her time, currently it's building Lego sets. Magnets on the fridge that she started to collect over time along with a postcard from Tokyo.

There are fresh flowers in a see-through vase on the dinning table made out of dark wood (it is used for most Friday night dinners, as they say she has the prettiest apartment now).

In the living room, her favorite show plays on the TV and there is a row of waxed autumn leaves from Central Park hanging above the big screen.

A cozy couch with mismatched pillows and a soft duvet for rainy days along with a coffee table and a colorful rug she got from her grandma as a housewarming gift. And another bookshelf, this one filled with candles, knick-knacks and souvenirs, an old CD player and an array of framed photos that appear all over the apartment.

Some with her best friend, arms thrown around one another in front of the Eiffel Tower, another one of the two of them cheesing at the camera. Some with her brother from the trip to New York. Some of her best friend and his boyfriend with her wedged in between, all three wearing bright smiles and eyes crinkled as they stare in the camera. Two side by side of a certain friend with orange hair, that she met when she was crying in a library, from her trip to Tokyo where she spent last New Years Eve.

There is one with her brother and her, one aged six and the other almost ten, cheeks smudged from chocolate and both having terrible haircuts that they'll get teased about relentlessly as they hug each other clumsily and smile for the camera.

Two big windows stretch across the other wall, the curtains moved to the sides and allowing the sunrays to seep inside along with the view of the park across the street and the market next to it, there is a lower shelf set up underneath the windows with a record player on top and filled with miscellaneous items like records, CDs, books, more candles and magazines.

The windows are wide open letting in the fresh morning air in, the birds chirp and there is laughter heard from kids heading to school so early in the morning.

On the wall next to the windows, there is a drawing framed.

It's her. The girl with smiles made out of rusty nails and little sparks of electricity coming from empty eye sockets. That's her place now. Only all of the moss covered parts, the rusty nails, the loose bolts and screws that she hid for so long are covered by marigolds, violets and daisies which daintily envelop each crevice, make each loose bolt stronger and replace missing pieces that aren't coming back.

She is whole now.

#san x reader #choi san x reader #mingi x reader #ateez angst #ateez x reader

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