Blue Flag, with doyoung and yedam.

Note: this does follow Ao No Flag, yet there are minor plot changes such as time setting! You don’t have to read Ao No Flag unless you want to! The plot was to be described a bit, Maybe? Hopefully— through my writing!

Dialogue heavy!

• For the first time since third grade, they share a classroom together. It’s Doyoung that shone with genuine appreciation it: smile wide, enough to make Yedam feel something — something other than a sense of guilt, guilt for feeling insecure. Although he shouldn’t be. They’re completely different people, not at all the same— and yet.
• Doyoung’s hands grab his shoulders when he raises his voice, and shouts out his name; Yedam’s body moves on it’s own, jumping toward to Asahi, his face paling, and heart hammering.
• Doyoung laughs, and it does something to Yedam’s heart. Makes his gut churn, and fists tighten.
• “What class are you in, man?” Doyoung asks, his smile is wide— and his eyes are curled, and his face is bright beneath the sun beating down on him, it shone yellow high in the sky. Doyoung looked happy, and Yedam wishes he wasn't— only for a moment.
• “Class A,” He replies, heart calming down from the scare. Palm rubbing over his chest, over his uniform— heart beating under his palm, drumming against bone, hard. Doyoung’s face shifts, into something like surprise, or— Yedam doesn’t know, he really doesn’t.
• Doyoung’s arm wraps around Yedam’s shoulder, pulling him into his side. “Woah! We’re in the same class? That’s crazy! Haven’t been since the third grade!” He says, voice heightened. Laced with appreciation, or maybe, gratefulness. He smiles.
• Then it shifts.
• Voices call out for Doyoung, and he goes. Just as easy as he came, and it makes Yedam stare after him; Doyoung walking into arms, into his friends—
• “‘Sup to you too, Yedam,” A friend of Doyoung’s says, staring down at him. A smile on his face. Yedam’s shoulders bunch up, and he smiles, doesn’t feel right on his face. “… Uh, thanks. You too.”
• He’s unaware of the eyes watching. Burning on Doyoung, then on him.

—

• During lunch, Asahi and Haruto pry. Not that they usually do, it’s just different when it’s about Doyoung, Haruto asks— “Hey… Something’s been bugging me,” A beat of silence, “how are you and Doyoung such good friends?”
• Yedam stops eating, thinking before he speaks, “We’re been best friends since primary school,” and maybe that’s why his heart does something for Doyoung, “but I don’t think we’re that close.”
• Yedam really doesn’t know— maybe they were close before. But they grew out of it, their closeness. Or maybe, it’s a closeness that became one-sided, on Doyoung’s part, or maybe on Yedam’s part,— or maybe they’ve never really been close— his thoughts don’t stick together anymore after that, Haruto speaks up again, “Nah, you both seem to get along well. Even though you are a completely different ‘class’, right”
• “‘Class?’” Yedam’s brow furrows. Face shifting, eyes staring— what did he mean? Class?— Yedam just, he doesn’t know. It makes his heart drop, a bit. “Yeah,” Haruto shrugs, finger pointing out the classroom window, down onto the field outside.
• Doyoung is out there, in his uniform playing soccer. The sleeves rolled up, and beads of sweat formed on his skin, the sun beating down, and other boys chasing after him. His forearm wipes his skin, the people out there cheer him on— Haruto continues, “Because that Doyoung… Has unrivalled skills in the baseball club, and his dexterity is above most, as well. He has great manners and a sense of humor so the girls are always fawning over him–” And it gets Yedam thinking. Really thinking. Heart sinking as he does. “He’s someone who makes the most of life.”
• “And yet he doesn’t have a girlfriend, does he?” Asahi says, slow, curious. But not really caring. Just, curious.
• Haruto jokes, “Maybe he just loves to lead people on,”
• That makes Yedam lose his appetite, shoving his sandwich into his lunchbox, his face scowls. And Asahi pales, leaning toward Yedam, Yedam’s voice lowers, sinks. “Stop it, Haru… Doyoung isn’t that kind of guy.”
• Haruto leans toward him, finger touching his forehead, “Maybe. But he’s on a completely different field than us,” A beat of silence, and Yedam’s heart is sinking so low into his gut, “You are being used.” Yedam wishes Haruto never spoke. His heart sinks as well.
• A boy shouts. And clutter is loud. Echoing everywhere in the classroom.
• “Hey, what the hell are you doing!” A dark-haired boy has a finger pointed at a light-haired boy, voice deep. Irritated, and angered. The light-haired boy points his finger at the dark-haired one, “… He pushed me!” It comes out quick.
• Someone:s voice echoes, “(name) hasn’t even eaten half,”
• Your lunch lays on the floor— scattered, and you’re picking it up, face flushed— burning red, cheeks colored so deep, Yedam begins to think it hurts. Yedam lowers his brows, the side of his mouth raised. He doesn’t really like you.
• Your friend, her voice is low, has a softened edge lingering beneath, “Are you okay, (name)?” You don’t answer, just continue picking up your food. Burning beneath her gaze, and everyone else’s. “Apologize properly to (name).” She says, and the light-haired boy raises his voice, “It’s her fault for always eating so slowly, and always diddy-dallying!”
• And your friend’s face hardens. She’s always been scary, Yedam thinks. And her voice goes even lower, anger lulled low, humming beneath. “Huh? It’s your fault for rampaging through here!”
• A voice perks up, mocking, taunting. “Ah, it’s the gorilla girl run,” And they snicker beneath palms, the boys move. Run toward their desks.
• Asahi asks, quietly, “Was that (name)’s lunch?” And Haruto clicks his tongue, “Looks like it.”
• Yedam stares at you, just watches. The burning of your skin, your blush infectious. “As always, (name) is stupid and slow…” Yedam says, and it makes Asahi stare at him like he’s grown another head, and Haruto calls out Yedam’s name.
• “Yeah?” He turns around. Eyes curious, wondering— “I have another question, why don’t you like (name)?”
• Asahi speaks, easing his way in, “You’re pretty cold to that girl, aren’t you?”
• “I don’t mean to be…” It’s true. That much is very true. And Haruto says something Yedam doesn’t get that quickly, “Even though you like small animals,”
• “Huh?” His hand rubs over the nape of his neck, smoothing down the hairs. “(name) kind of seems like a small animal, doesn’t she? Kind of like a hamster.” Asahi brightens up at that, and looks your way. “Ah. Hamster-ish girls.”
• “Hamster girls?“ He questions. Looks your way too— your hands are clasped together, and your face is still red. “Hamster lady?” That makes Asahi stare Haruto down, Haruto says, “Nah, that’s wrong, right, Asahi?”
• Yedam has so many questions. But he doesn’t ask. He just, he doesn’t know. He doesn’t—

—

• He walks down a hall toward his classroom. Wondering what the problem was— his relationship with Doyoung was the problem. That he hadn’t changed, but was of a different ‘class’.
• Then he thinks of you. How long he’s known you, yet hasn’t really known you— he’s always been in the same classroom as you. Your eyes had met often. You never really spoke to each other— Yedam halts, gazes absentmindedly out the window. His reflection staring back. You’re slow. And always looking down— and it’s exactly like—
• “Whatcha’ looking at?” Doyoung’s face is suddenly too close, and it makes Yedam jump back. Doyoung laughs easily, “You’re such a wimp, Yedam!”
• “You always appear so suddenly!”
• “Ah, really? Sorry.” Yedam wonders why Doyoung’s face softens when he rubs the back of his head. They walk into class together.
• The voices again. They tell him he’s amazing, and he’s good, and they question why he’s so good, and what can’t he do?— and he stutters a bit— “W–well,”
• Yedam just, he doesn’t know. It’s not like he doesn’t like Doyoung, they just don’t get along anymore— Yedam walks toward his desk, without saying anything. Misses the way Doyoung falters, the way he stares after him.
• Your desk is beside Yedam’s.

—

• Yedam finds you.
• At the library near school. Reaching high, on a stepping ladder. Fingers spread outward, touching. But missing the book your reaching for— Yedam turns. Frowning. Wishes this weren’t happening, because he feels like he’d feel bad if he didn’t help you, you look like you desperately need it—
• “Are you okay?”
• You stiffen. Face burning again, “Eh? Eh? I— Yed—” and Yedam moves toward you, “Move.”
• You do, slowly. And you’re burning so much, he feels like he can feel the flames touching his skin, a butterfly-touch, too soft— “Which one? I’ll grab it for you.”
• “Th– there’s no need! You can’t look!” And Yedam looks up toward the shelf where you were reaching— and he immediately wishes he hadn’t tried to help you—
• About romance, about love, about liking, about having crushes— he turns red. And your hands cover your face. Your blush is, infectious. Is all he thinks. And he’s embarassed too.
• He reaches up anyways. And he spreads his fingers out. Missing the book your reaching for too. Fingers grazing against it— he can’t reach either— and when he does reach it, it’s crammed too tightly between the other books. He gives up.
• It’s embarassing for the both of you — you both leave the library, and find yourselves at the intersection outside of the look. Waiting for the light to change color.
• He can feel your gaze, sometimes it burns, and other times it’s too light to even feel— you look like you want to say something.
• You do. “Um… — S–so… Yedam!” And he looks at you. You’re set ablaze, and you’re staring at him. Bright. Radiate. The universe. Silence surrounds you, and the street noise is faded. “… (name)?”
• You jump. Burning even more. “Ah! I— I’m sorry!” The light changes color. And Yedam is desperate to leave, to never try be around you again— he apologizes. “… No, I’m sorry about earlier, I went a little overboard.”
• Your hands clasp together, close to your chest. “That’s completely!—” And Yedam is staring at the light, wishing he could leave— your eyes shut tight, and you burn bright— Yedam begins to speak again, because the light is going to change soon, and he really wants to get to the other side of the street already, he’s embarassed enough— “Well, I won’t tell anyone so it’s fine,” His hand gestures to the other side of the street, and you’re burning up even more, “I’ve been out for a while, so I should probably head back now. Ah, well, I’ll be–” then the light switches and his insides are screaming.
• You don’t mind though, and he thinks, of course you wouldn’t— you fumble with your words, “Um… Yedam… I…— Well, I…”
• “I have something I want to talk about with you!” Your eyes are closed tight when he looks to you, you burn beneath his stare— it must hurt— you’ve just shouted at him, and he thinks about how infectious your blush is— “Talk about? With me?” He questions. You open your eyes, and you nod a bit— “W-what…?”
• “D… Doyoung… He…” Yedam stares. Waits for you. You inhale, before exhaling, the tension in your body leaving, but not entirely. “What kind of person is he?” Your hands come to your face, touching your cheeks— The universe, radiate, bright. “Doyoung?” He echoes, wondering why him, why why why— “Y-you and Doyoung are good friends so…” You reason softly, shyly, words almost tender— Yedam scratches his head, “but that’s not really the case…” Because it isn’t, they aren’t good friends, they aren’t close— “The discussion… It’s about Doyoung? What kind of person is he?” It dawns on him. Softly, brightly— the library, the books, everything else.
• “(name), could it be…” it’s not far-fetched, why wouldn’t you? his hand drops, and the world is still, “you like Doyoung?”
• “E… Eh… Eh?!” You set ablaze. “Wh-why? Why? Wh–” You’re burning, and Yedam just knows. You’re so easy to read. “Well… no reason?” He says, and thinks, (name) and Doyoung, they won’t get on well. It doesn’t look like they have anything in common... But thinks about Doyoung, and remembers how well he gets along with everyone— This is about Doyoung. About you. About romance— crushes, love. “If it’s that kind of conversation then I’m useless!” The light switches again, and he’s moving to the train station, “When it comes to love advice I’ve got nothing!” Yedam says, chest tightening. “And I’m not that good of friends with Doyoung anymore…” You follow after him. Steps slower, softer, “That’s… But you guys chat so easily!” Your hands are clasped tightly in fists, and Yedam— he keeps talking anyways. “We don’t chat that much!” He argues back. Thinks different classes, we’re on completely different fields— “Now, We’re completely… – It’s just that I’ve known Doyoung since primary school.” Different classes, different fields, different— “Our friend groups are different. He’s in the baseball club, and I’m in the ‘go home’ club,” different classes, different fields, different— “Since we entered high school, we’ve been in completely different classes too. So–” Different classes, different fields, completely different— “We’ve been with him since primary school?” You question, making him stop. “Eh. Well–” He begins, before you cut him off.
• “What was he like in primary school?” your eyes brighten, the universe— it does something to him, his chest tightens, a pressure growing in in his chest— sweat forms on his skin. Doyoung? What was he like? — “Doyoung hasn’t changed at all. Same as now, he was everyone’s favorite.” Is? Was? He doesn’t know—
• He thinks, about primary school, about Doyoung— “Whenever he started something new… It would become a fad for the entire class,” Classes, fields— Doyoung is in a class, in a different field— he thinks of primary school, thinks of Doyoung, and then thinks of battle pencils. “Ah, battle pencils.”
• It’s nostalgic thinking about it, reminds him of being a kid. When he was free and at ease to be one— you repeat after him, eyes brightened, searching, curious— “Pencils?” It makes him smile.
• “You roll the pencil then battle with the side you rolled.” Yedam gestures, mimics a pencil rolling— it’s weird, seeing him do it without a pencil, but it’s enough, enough for you— “Back then, they were super popular! Doyoung started that one too.”
• Thinking back, it’s the most friends he’s had— for a moment, it makes him happy, to have had more friends, to have been enough— he turns to you, and you stare at him. Pink embedded in your cheeks, like that’s where it’s supposed to bloom, and he thinks, what the hell am I talking about.
• He doesn’t realize the train is pulling in, and he’s still. Standing there, with you— Yedam panics, “The train is already here,” He turns red. Face heating up. Setting ablaze. “W-well, if that’s the case,” You let out a small noise, confused, curious— “Eh?” and Yedam says, “Bye.” Before he’s running off.
• You watch after him, and on the inside, Yedam is feeling so, embarassed.

—

• “Are these okay?” You’re holding your hands together, staring down at the battle pencils you set on his desk. Yedam stares, “How did you get these?” And you mumble, stutter over your words. “T– they’re my brother’s, but will they be okay?” And Yedam doesn’t understand why you’re asking him. Doesn’t know— “Why?” He asks, he knows he’s mentioned it— of course he does— what will they be okay for? Why?— Why ask him?— “What’s that, Yedam?”
• Doyoung is there. Reaching, and touching the pencils on his desk. Holding one in between his fingers, says, these are nostalgic, and you turn. Just a bit, and stare. You set ablaze, and Yedam swears he feels your cells burning.
• “Where’s this from, Yedam? Is it yours?” He’s staring at you— Yedam is staring at you, and you do look like a hamster— one that’s in trouble, and one that’s shocked, it can’t move— “Nah…” Yedam tells him, and burns too when he realizes how much you like Doyoung— burning so bright, and so hot— bright, radiate, the universe— “Huh? so it’s (name)’s, then?” And you burn even more when Doyoung shifts his attention to you, you shake your head, body vibrating, trembling almost. “Huh? It’s not?” Doyoung questions, uneased— “Apparently, they’re her brother’s,” Yedam says, his face dropping. You lied, and he’s not finding it amusing, it’s getting annoying— “Ah,” Doyoung replies.
• Your brows furrow, and you make a face at Yedam— fists coming up, and you turn to Doyoung, your mouth opens, and Yedam is thinking, you’re about to talk— “Doyoung!” You say the same time Doyoung speaks, “By the way, Yedam!” His voice louder, clearer— Yedam burns a little, “Do you still have them?” Doyoung asks, and Yedam is confused a bit— because what? “The ones you were making!”
• Doyoung holds up a battle pencil. Smiles, bright— “Custom battle pencils!” He says, and his smile is so bright, Yedam’s chest begins to get heavy, “I used to really love those!”
• “Custom?” Quiet, softly, you echo to Doyoung— and he’s quick to look at you, leaning in, “Yeah! Yedam was super good!”
• Yedam begins to burn, everything— from the back of his neck to the whole of his face— “That’s a nice story but! Aren’t these ones better, they look hard to make.” And Doyoung is getting the chair from your desk, and saying, “Let’s do it, let’s do it!”
• Doyoung looks to you, “come on, (name) too!”
• You burn, setting every cell in your aflame. “Eh?” And your face is red, so very red, “But…” Yedam is staring, “The rules…” Doyoung is sitting, staring so brightly at you, “You don’t know them? That’s fine, I’ll teach you!”
• You stare back, burning— bright, radiate, the universe— Doyoung smiles, eyes closing, curling, “Yeah?” And Yedam is thinking, good grief…
• You three okay with the battle pencils, and without even knowing, Yedam ends up helping you with Doyoung, and that’s fine.
• After, when class begins. When he’s sitting, staring ahead, thinking— you place a folded piece of paper on his desk and he looks to you, and unfolds it. The paper scratches against his skin when he opens it, his heart beats in his chest— and he just, doesn’t know. Thank you for earlier.
• Yedam looks at you, and your face is burning— you’re already staring at him, and the book you have in your hands move a bit, away from your mouth, uncovering it. You smile, bright, radiate, the universe— your eyes are closed, and your face is pink, blooming— he burns too.
• Doyoung watches, pencil pressing against his bottom lip.

—

• At lunch, a day later, Doyoung’s friends, the voices call for him— and he goes. You watch after him. Holding your pencil case full of battle pencils, just watching Doyoung— Yedam watches you.
• He stands, “Ah! Yedam…” You say, so softly. Burning. “Today, do you…” He knows, yet he doesn't— “Nah,” he says, you flinch, eyes widening. “With just two people, it’s…” You deflate, even more when Yedam says that. “… You’re right.” A moment of silence, awkward, and too long— Yedam scratches his cheek. “You want to do it with Doyoung, anyway, right?” And you flinch again, burning, setting ablaze. “Then invite him, not me.”
• Yedam stares at you, thinking, it’s not like you’ll do it— you look up at him, determined, “Ok!” And Yedam turns white, paling— you’re going? You stand, and then you sit back down. “What should I say…” You’re thinking aloud. And you look to him, “If it was you, what would you say?” And Yedam— he doesn’t know, why are you asking him— “Eh?! Me?” Why am I apart of this— Yedam thinks aloud, “What would I… Would… Normally, I’d say yo.” There’s a cold sweat forming. And his voice gets louder, “I have absolutely no idea!” He’s annoyed, with himself, with—
• “O… O- of course… I’m sorry…” A breath, soft. It’s timid, and enough— Yedam stills. His annoyance halting completely, “You don’t need to apologize…”
• He stares at you, watching, lingering— your hair is different, tied into braids— puffy, and messy, and so, you— you touch the ends, and Yedam thinks, P.E. is today?
• “Do we have P.E. today?” His head is tilting, staring at you— you straighten up, “Eh? I don’t… Think so.” And you wonder too. He speaks again, gesturing to his hair, “It’s just, tat you’ve tied your hair all up, and I thought you only tie your hair up when we have P.E…” He doesn’t know how he knows— maybe because he’s always shared classes with you— maybe because he—
• You burn. Like always. “W- well. There’s no special reason for it today.” And Yedam hums. And you touch the ends again, wondering. “I wonder… What hairstyles do boys like.” You brightened, burn a bit more. “Doyoung’s prefered style… And stuff.”
• “I don’t really know Doyoung’s preferences, but I don’t think preferences mean anything really.”
• You make a noise, and Yedam continues. “Honestly, when it comes to hair and stuff, guys don’t notice small changes.” And he thinks, and yet he doesn't— “Obviously, if you go and cut it all off. You’d make an impression.” His hand gestures again, shorter this time. And you stare. A boy comes in, “Yedam,” and he turns, “Huh, Asahi?”
• Asahi asks, “Can I borrow your dictionary?” and he sees you, “Are you in the middle of something?” Not anymore— Yedam says, “Nah…” Looks to you, before stepping away, “It’s fine.”
• He takes a glance back. Lingering, let’s himself look— he’s not thinking, when is he ever though?

—

• He knows it’d happen, he should have known— but when he walks into class, he’s surprised— “… (name)?” It’s short, really short— touching your cheeks, it— it suits you. “That…” But he isn’t thinking, not at all. “…Head…” And you smile, hand coming up, touching the ends of your hair, you smile again, just like before, when you handed him that note— thank you for earlier— and you ask, “How… Is it?” And Yedam is frozen.
• Until Doyoung tells him good morning, his attention shifting to you— “Woah, what happened?!” It sets you ablaze, and Doyoung’s tone is, nice, nicer than Yedam’s. Doyoung sounds, impressed. “Amazing! You went and cut it all in one go!” And you don’t burn, but Doyoung’s eyes sparkle— they brighten, like how yours do when you see him— Yedam begins, says Doyoung’s name because it might hurt you— “It looks good. It suits you.”
• You burn this time. There’s hesitation in your voice, a shake— so soft, slow— “I… I-i, it’s not weir–” Your shoulders almost touch your chin, they’re so bunched up— Doyoung cuts you off, “Looks good. It’s great!” And he looks at Yedam, stares right at him, “Right, Yedam?” Smiles, so bright it hurts. Makes Yedam’s chest feel heavy— Yedam looks at look, you’re red and burning and bright and radiate and the universe—
• A voice takes Doyoung away. And It’s just you and Yedam, and Yedam moves. Scratches his head, and tries to sit down— setting his schoolbag down, not turning toward you, you whisper a thank you Yedam!, and he wonders— “What for?” And you repeat after him, slower— like— like him…
• “My hair. You told me, I should cut it short. Thanks to you, he complimented me!” He hates it, he hates this— there’s a heaviness on his shoulders, like responsibility—yet, why would you go so far? why? why—yet… “Thanks to me…? When did I say you should cut it short?” It’s terrifying— feeling this much responsibility— it’s your hair— you make a noise, confused, you’re still smiling, bright, radiate, the universe— “Eh…? Yesterday, you said—”
• And he doesn’t mean it— maybe he does, maybe in the moment he means it, he doesn’t know— when does he know?— He shouts. At you, at himself at everyone— because he wasn’t thinking, when does he ever think?— “I didn’t say… Anything like that!”
• The world stills. And Everything is quiet except for his heart racing rapidly in his chest— he wasn’t thinking— and he’s running, only after seeing everyone, after seeing Doyoung staring at him— you chase after him. Asking him what’s wrong, that you’re sorry, that you didn’t mean to hurt his feelings— he turns abruptly once you’re outside, near a stone wall, lower enough to sit, shouting again, because that heaviness, it won’t leave— “I didn’t say like “you should cut it short” did I?” He heaves, “I take no responsibility!” and you echo the last word. You panic, arms coming to your head, “It… It’s really that strange? It’s weird?!”
• “No! That’s not it at all! It suits you!” His hands come to his head, he feels— he doesn’t know— he wonders why him, why you would go so far, for someone like, someone like Doyoung. And you, you’re so— “So far…? He complimented me, didn’t he?” You’re so you, you’re so slow, and always looking down, and— you ask Yedam it so easily.
• “He complimented you…”” Yedam repeats, echoes it so indifferently. “He complimented you, but.” He’s no longer holding his head, his hands coming together. “(name), what do you want to do with your love for Doyoung,” you make a noise, and he continues, “You want to confess? Do you want to go out?” And you’re burning, making noises, “Um…” And he shouldn’t mean it, but he does. “You’ve got no chance!” And the world is still again. He apologizes, “Sorry, I… I knew Doyoung’s preference… I mean, the person Doyoung likes is… Slim, tall, and older than him. Has a mature girl vibe. She’s sporty and straight to the point. As well as very colorful, and says things clearly.” A heartbeat later, “And also… Has long straight, brown hair.” His chest is tightening, you’re you— bright, radiate, the universe— he continues speaking, “You’re saying that his characteristics are just your type, right? He might be the perfect fit for you, but maybe you’re not the perfect fit for him.” You hand touches your mouth, your heart hurts— “In Doyoung’s case…” Yedam stops.
• “I see… So the complete opposite of me, isn’t it?” And you ask him, “Is Doyoung dating that person right now?” And Yedam looks to you, “No, It’s his unrequited love.”
• You smile, glancing at the ground. Yedam stares. “Well then. I really am thankful. You thought I had no chance, didn’t you?” your hands move, fingers spreading. “But… You told me that straight from the beginning, so…” You smile, eyes closed. Your fists tighten, “I’ll do my best!”
• “Eh?!” Yedam feels, surprised, and— “If Doyoung isn’t dating anyone right now, I still have a change, right? Even though you said I’m not his type, even if just a little he mag start to like me… Just a little.” And your voice is beginning to trembling, beginning to shake— “Even just a little.” Your eyes are glossy, and you’re smiling— your face does something weird, and you’re crying, and Yedam panics. “Are you okay?!” And your voice is trembling, “I’m fine! It’s nothing! It will stop soon!” And your face is still weird, eyes wet and face squished together, red and blotchy— “But your face is…” Yedam is— he doesn’t know. And a slow realization grows, he asks, “are you crying… Because of that?” Because maybe he’ll like you, even just a little? Because, maybe he won’t?
• “I’m not crying!” You say, and your face twists, relaxes. Then you say, “Because I decided to change. I’ll give up. I can’t do it. I thought before doing this, I had no chance. But if I didn’t do it, I would regret it… I won’t like myself if I stay like this.” Yedam feels relieved, even though he had no reason to. Thinks, you won’t have any regrets if you understand yourself and know your place. More than that, this— you won’t have any reason to dislike yourself.
• You’re crying. And Yedam is awkward, heart beating heavy in his chest. “So… Are you going to stop crying?” Your hands cover your face, you burn, set ablaze— he’s unaware of the cells beginning to burn in him— “don’t look!” you say.
• He remembers something, “You know, if you don’t want to cry… Opening your mouth a little helps,” He opens his mouth a bit, staring intently at you, and your uncovering your face, “like this,” he says. His mouth open, “when you open your mouth, you can’t focus on other things,” his mouth closes, and he stares, at the glossiness of your eyes, the sheen of glass, the tears threatening to fall, and the pink blooming in your cheeks— “so you won’t cry.” Yedam opens his mouth, head tilting back. And you copy, slowly. Staring at one another until your tears at gone, and you both laugh— at free, and at ease.
• “Yedam… I’m starting to like this hairstyle.”

—

• Doyoung finds Yedam, Doyoung calls out Yedam’s name, and he walks near, closer— “What was up earlier? You don’t normally raise your voice like that,” Yedam stands, and so do you, “Ah.” Doyoung says. And he leans toward Yedam, quietly asking, “Did I get in the way here?” and Yedam asks, “Of what?”
• “Huh? What was wrong earlier?” And Yedam stiffens, flinches, “Nothing really…” And you and Yedam both say, “It was my fault,” at the same time, it’s enduring. You both argue, back and forth— “Huh? You’re wrong, I said it’s my fault,” Yedam begins, and you mumble, “Eh? That’s not right, it’s my fault!” “I told you, you’re wrong, it’s my fault!” “Why? I selfishly–” “Wrong.” “Why, I–” — Doyoung laughs, smiles. His hands raise, and they touch your heads, ruffling hair.

Life is a series of choices. In your first year of high school, you three, — maybe everyone, was living in ambivalence, choosing careers, taking exams, the future is spread out before you. It was going to be hectic, at this stage… The three of you landed in the same class. Best friends… Lovers… At this time, Yedam doesn’t know how it ends.

your second kiss is your first real kiss. [or: five times you kissed Jihoon, and the one time he kissed you].

He sits still, feels it first. Let’s it linger.

On the corner of his mouth, resting there on his pale skin and the sliver of pink. Soft and sweet, and fleeting, a breath of warmth stuttering over skin, flesh, past bones, through him. Then gone, setting his nerves to tip over, prickling all over inside of him.

And then he stares, watching as your face sets ablaze, makes his throat dry.

“I… — I like you so much, Jihoon!”

Chest heaving, cheeks tinged pink – and in a heartbeat, your face twitches, eyes glossen, then you’re gone. Steps brisk, almost dashing. There is only Jihoon, and a loneliness once you leave.

Burning, “… Me too.”

He sits still, feels it first. Let’s it linger.

It burns.

—

Your second kiss is your first real kiss.

His palms sweat, together between his knees. Thumb tracing the joints in his fingers, stretched, open-palmed.

“– Color?”

His face twists, frowns. A crease between his brows. “Sorry?”

You smile, knees folding beneath you on your bed, the bed creaks – your head tilting just a bit, “What color?”

Four tubes held up to his face, they all look the same to Jihoon, – he chooses the glittery one, the one you wear, that gets hair stuck to your lips. Light pink, full of sparkles – glossy. And smells of strawberry, or something sweet.

“This one,” You smile at him. Cheeks reddening, eyes brightening. “That one’s my favorite!”

He knows, you’ve told him before. More times than he could count.

You hold it between your faces, twisting the lid off.

Then you’re holding his jaw between gentle fingers, pressing against bone. Brows coming together, face coming close, a warm breath, “Stay still, okay?”

He sucks in a breath, holds still. Stares at the crease between your brows, shifting to the slope of your nose, the pink tinge of your cheeks – then at your lips.

It drags across his bottom lip, and you pull away just a bit. “Go like this,” You rub your lips together, and he does too.

You run a finger at the corner of his mouth, beneath the line of his lips. Hands coming to his cheeks, holding him in place.

Then you see Jihoon.

Face burns, just like his chest.

Then you bring your mouths together, slow. Then fleeting.

Hands coming to your mouth, stammering, “I’m… — I’m sorry!”

Gone again, dashing out of your own room. Into the hall, and into the bathroom, where the door slams shut.

He doesn’t catch his breath, instead sinks into your bed, into the softness of your room – and burning, “… I’m sorry too.”

Jihoon wonders if you know how much he likes you. And the lipgloss sticks to the corners of his mouth, it must be everywhere.

—

In summer, Jihoon licks the side of your face.

“Ew, Jihoon!” You’re grabbing napkins, shoving your ice cream cone into his hands. Your nose is wrinkling, hands rubbing your cheek hard, and a discoloration comes after, red and rubbed raw – “You had ice cream on your face,” He smiles, making you frown.

You scoff, holding out your hand for your ice cream. Fingers brushing when he hands it back. He says, “It didn’t even taste like strawberry anyway.”

And you elbow his side. “Never do that again,”

Jihoon watches as your face reddens, and smiles. Notices just how beautiful you are, wishes he’d noticed before.

You smile again, lean closer into him. Eyes twinkling, “Can I have some of yours? You can have some of mine!”

Jihoon holds his ice cream out, a hand held out at the bottom of your chin, ready to catch any if it leaks out.

“Mint ice cream is just toothpaste,”

“You’re dumb for saying that,”

You sputter, mouth opening and closing – you whine, “But I’m right! It does!”

And the sun sets, sinks lower into the horizon. Jihoon watches, and you watch him.

He looks to you, and you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, soft and sweet. You redden, standing and holding out your hand.

“Walk me home.”

He does, he always does – Jihoon wonders when the burning will stop, that fades, or etches itself somewhere else in his mind when you squeeze his hand.

—

Jihoon stares at your eyebrows, the crease between your brows.

Your hands rub sunscreen on his neck, tilting his head up, neck stretching. Then onto his ears, thumbs gently tracing the shell of his ear, his shoulder comes up, head presses close to it. “It’ll come off,” You say and he’s looking up again, this time at the blue sky. Feet digging into the sand.

“There,” You smile, patting him on the head. And pressing a peck to his mouth. “Go play!”

Jihoon burns, and not from the sun.

Smiles at you, and watches you tinge red.

(You take a bus home after, sitting close together. Hands in his lap, you trace the ridges on his knuckles, his head on your shoulder. You tell him you love him, and he can’t breathe).

—

You’re overthinking, face downcast.

“Jihoon,” It’s a breath, you breathe his name out. Eyes glossed over, looking at his mouth.

“… Jihoon,” He’s staring at you, hand touching your wrist. “Are you –”

It’s just a press of lips, mouth together. Gentle, but it sets ablaze in his chest. Spreading all over his body from the inside.

You pull away, mouth twitching.

You leave again, slower. Face down, eyes glossened. And Jihoon is afraid of the loneliness that comes once you’re out of his room, the door slamming.

Kissing you burns, and it makes him wonder.

—

+ 1.

“I’m in love with you.”

Your brows furrow, “I mean, that’s why we’re together, right?”

His hands come to his hair, tugging, and he paces, “No, like I want to be with you all the time, and… — I don’t know how to be without you,”

You’re sitting still on his bed, listening. Always focused on him, always aware of him – “I can’t be without you. You’re always with me, you’re like a… — A leech.”

“Jihoon, that’s not very nice…” Your hands rubbed your upper arms. Grounding into them like pulp, digging into flesh.

“CanI kiss you?” He’s staring at you. Watching you redden. You say too softly, “But you said you don’t like kissing…”

“When?” His head is tilting, eyebrows knitting deep together. A crease between his brows. You sigh, “Before we started dating… I thought that kissing made you uncomfortable –”

“But that was before. I don’t like kissing, but I like kissing you! There’s a difference…”

You stare at him, nodding soft. Gentle, eyes tender. And face red.

When you barely stand, and Jihoon takes your face into his hands, kissing you.

Your hand takes hold of his wrist, grounding into his pulse. The thrum of his heart in his veins, throughout his body. Heartbeat at his wrist, and the other hand grounds onto his chest, fingers unfurl, spreading open. Pressing into his breastbone, into the soft flesh of his chest – it beats just as fast as yours.

Then the kiss is different, more certain. Different than yours – his tongue drifts across your bottom lip, making you melt into him. Your knees together, sinking.

Jihoon pulls away, and you smile so beautifully at him. Cheeks darkened, flushed.

“I like you so much, Jihoon!”

His chest heaves, burning, searing. He nods.

˗ˏˋ Ygtb (Jyunhao and Yedam) messy layouts ↷ like or reblog if you save;♡°

losing drabble

❄️Fluffy Winter Drabble with Park Jihoon

Outside the wind was howling, snow falling from the cloudy sky and coating the ground outside. Though it was freezing outside you were toasty, sitting beside the window sill and looking out at the winter wonderland outside. Lifting your cup of cocoa up and taking a sip you felt grateful, you were inside wrapped up in a warm hoodie and sweatpants instead of outside trudging through the snow. Just like Jihoon was doing outside.

He has a warmer heart than you, leaving the warmth of your shared bed to help the single mother next door clear her driveway. Maybe that’s what keeps him warm while he’s outside, unable to enjoy a cup of hot cocoa and the heater on full blast.

Think of the devil and he shall look up from his spot, snow shovel in hand and look up to where you sat in the window, face indiscernible underneath his many layers. Lifting his hand he waved it at you eagerly, childlike almost. Waving back you waited until he turned back around to finally stand up.

Might as well start on breakfast.

Halfway through cooking, pancake batter already fully whisked and poured into the pan, the smell of butter and chocolate wafting through the air the front door opened. Sounds of children screaming while they played filtered in before quieting with a thud as Jihoon closed the door behind him. It never became silent, thanks to Jihoon’s audible struggle to remove his snow boots thanks to his two jackets and sweater.

It was only moments after you focused on the pancakes, carefully flipping them to make sure they didn’t become too deformed (it’s hard to make them perfect) when arms wrapped around your waist, accompanied by Jihoon pressing himself against your back and resting his head on your shoulder. “Hi baby.”

Pressing a kiss to your cheek you groaned, playfully wiping it off after feeling just how sweaty he was.

“Go take a shower, you stink.” Without turning you knew he was pouting.

“What if I just want to cuddle with my baby while the snow falls?”

“We can cuddle after you take a shower. By the time you’re done breakfast will be ready. Otherwise I might just have to give it to the neighborhood kids. You know they love my cooking.” And with a little teasing Jihoon was racing towards your room, not without biting your cheek in revenge. When he returned from the shower, hair wet and dripping onto his t-shirt you had just finished plating the food. Three pancakes each, stacked high and topped with whipped cream, strawberries, and chocolate chips. Perfect breakfast for a perfect winter morning.

With a kiss, and a muttered thank you Jihoon sat across from you, digging into his food with an over exaggerated moan. “Your cooking just gets better and better.” Rolling your eyes in an attempt to ignore the heat rushing to your face you quickly cut into your pancakes, lifting them to your mouth and suppressing your own moan. For once he wasn’t lying, cooking classes had really paid off. Both of you finished eating in silence, sliding your dishes into the sink with a promise to wash them later before sinking into the couch cushions. Despite your denial earlier all you wanted to do was curl up in his arms.

Jihoon was never going to let it be that easy, waiting until you curled into his side before flipping you over, you had no time to react in between your back  hitting the couch cushions and his hands dropping to your sides, fingers moving rapidly as he slid up your shirt.

You were pinned completely underneath him, unable to move. You were expecting to be met with a cocky smirk, the one where he knows you’re vulnerable to only him, instead you were graced with a genuine smile.

“I love you.” And an unexpected confession that caused butterflies to flutter throughout your body, a smile threatening to show itself. Instead of allowing the sudden shyness to win you leaned up as far as you could, pressing your lips together before mumbling ‘I love you more’, promptly starting a competition that you were unable to win. With the heat of his hands on your waist and the feelings of his lips moving against yours, you were fine with losing.

Cutedorksboyfriends.

AFTER MONTHS OF BEGGING

WHYGEE IS RESIGNING AND WE HAVE HAD OUR WISHES GRANTED. RETWEET WITH ALL OF THE YG IDOLS WHO DESERVED BETTER FROM WHYGEE AND WILL GET BETTER NOW THAT HES GONE

Unpopular Treasure 13 Opinions

1. If Yedam had debuted with silver boys he would be less distant, and I am sure that the reason he is distant is because he is trying to keep up with his friends and school
2. Treasure 13 is a bit of a mess, but a mess that needs to be addressed by YG. He needs to address the fans and let us know what the fuck is going on. This hear-say shit is toxic
3. Our fandom is toxic like Stray kids atm, (Stays are arguing abt line distribution & we are arguing about stupid shit like ??? what are we doing, these boys deserve better)
4. my previous point isn’t an attack, its like ,, the toxicity is bad, but will blow over ily stays
5. I can’t wait for the boys to debut but I think it would be best to debut them as a whole.
6. I don’t think the fandom would’ve prospered without YG exploiting Silver Boys
7. Without the other members *in ygtb* the group wouldn’t be as popular.
8. YG needs to go to jail.

hayoonbiin:

Something Different || Part 7 ½

Warning: Suggestive themes, cursing, flashbacks w/ triggering themes

—

You got lost in the party, surrounded by all the excited bodies dancing around. You smiled as you found the older boys, Jihoon, Seunghun, Byounggon, and Hyunsuk. Yoonbin quickly began talking to them and you searched for Junkyu and Kae, Jihoon told you he had seen them and pointed you up the stairs. After about 15 minutes you stumbled into a room where Jihoon sat alone, looking kind of sad

“Hoonie?? You alright?” You crept into the room shutting the door behind you, shutting out all the loud music and drunks. Jihoon was out of it, “Why not me, Yn?” His voice sounded a bit hoarse as he looked at you with puffy eyes. Your feet took over taking you to the bed to sit with him, and try to understand. “Jihoon what do you mean,” you whispered, he took your hand tenderly and held it in his hand, “You always overlooked me, Y/N.” Your hand came up to his face and wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, as the other pushed his hair back. Your eyes caught the others, and your heads began to get closer, and your instincts took over as your lips met softly, and off center. As soon as your lips crashed everything became a blur. Jihoon’s lips made hearts around your neck as he hovered above you, you gave him way, leaving your mouth agape. The only thing that ripped you out was the sound of the door opening. What an awkward position to be in, Jihoons hands pushing up your shirt as you had your hands wrapped around his neck, his torso shirtless, and your lip tint glowing on his lips. Byounggon was a mix between stunned, excited, and angry, and since he couldn’t decide what to do the people behind him did what his feet couldn’t. Run to tell Yoonbin.

You launched from the bed as flashes came into the room, as everyone began to laugh at you. This was the second time you looked a fool at a party, but this was the first time you caused someone else pain. Someone you truly cared for.

:)) would you guys want me to uh

finish?

this?

or should I just

scrap

it?

DROP UR SUGGESTION IN MY ASK!!

Seunghun As Your Boyfriend

Requested: No

Genre: Soft and Fluffy Bby

—

• He asked you out after meeting you at a coffee shop
• also saw you a few other places and couldn’t decide if you were a stalker or if it was a sign to make a move
• smiled at you brightly even though he was losing it in his mind
• probably texted Byounggon to tell him how cute you are
• Byounggon probably pushed him to make a move

Dating

• Took you out to the fair for your first date
• You managed to get food poisoning while you were there
• he took care of you the rest of the night
• went on rides!!
• cute little walks!!
• then he dropped you off at your house and pouted when you got out of the car
• “goodnight y/n,.”
• texted you as soon as the door shut
• asked you to be his “girl”
• like this is the 1950s

together

• cuddling!!
• late night shows
• low confidence when fans attack him on social media
• so you make him detox from his phone and monitor his phone
• taking care of him when he really just babies you 98% of the time
• squishes your cheeks 110%
• nose boops!!
• Big spoon but doesn’t mind being held
• Small face kisses
• Absolutely loves you to death

“Hey,, Y/N”

“Hm??”

“I think I love… you?”

Silver Boys family

• ever since you were a kid, you were made fun of for the soulmate markings on your arm which happened to be the first words your soulmate would ever say to you
• at the age of 2 years old, the words formed on your arms, shocking everyone around you, including yourself
• the words on your arm were “i love you so much”
• like wtf ….
• who tells someone they love them wHEN THEY FIRST MEET THEM?
• either a psychopath or hopeless romantic… psychopath
• your friends ALWAYS teased you about it
• “y/n i-i think i-i- I love you”
• they would even make their other friends go up to you and tell them they loved you .. which was a shit move cuz when you were younger, you would believe it 
• now they usually ended up with a slap in the face 
• you envied the people who had cute things like “hey… can i get your number?” or “shit you look HOT” or “hi i’m __” or even “IM SORRY I PUNCHED YOU IN THE FACE”
• ANYTHING
• SOMETHING BESIDES 
• I L O V E Y O U S O M U C H 
• anywhO
• this led you to become quite pessimistic about love .. not trusting people who said ‘i love you’ to one another cuz obviously these words were thrown around carelessly 
• bUT
• one day , you and your friend were lounging around after watching the latest Avengers movie 
• trash talking Thanos and his evil plan to kill us all
• boy got problems
• “do you think the avengers will come back in the end??” your friend asked
  
• you scoffed at her and sipped on your coffee “oh please, of course they will. theyre the AVENGERS. the ALMIGHTY humans… well except thor, but you know what i mean”
• you kicked her lightly underneath the table
• “plus… iron man and captain america arent canon yet” at that comment, your friend started to laugh
  
• you swore milk started to spill from her nose
• “i love you so much”
  
• suddenly you heard a voice say
• you immediately stopped everything you were doing and whipped your head around. your eyes widened when you saw a handsome boy smiling at you and laughing hard 
• “i cant believe you just said iron man and captain america are gonna be canon AAHAHA” the boy dubbled over in laughter… but all you could think of were those words “i love you so much”
• “you’re my soulmate” you blurted out
  
• at those words, he sobered up and stared at you with wide eyes 
• “oh shit, i didnt think this is how it would happen” the boy said, a blush forming on his face
  
• you never believe in love at first sight, but when you saw this boy, your heart started to beat fast and your cheeks were turning a bright pink
• you felt an instant connection with him… like all of your missing pieces were locking together with his 
• “umm… i think i’ll… go over there now” 
  
• you didnt pay attention as your friends skedaddled away from you, leaving you to be alone with your s o u l m a t e 
• “um, is it ok if i sit here?
  
• you nodded quickly
• “well i’m hyunsuk” he introduced quickly, holding out his hand
  
• you shook it awkwardly
• “y/n”
  
• it was silent for a few moments as you werent the best with strangers. especially with ones as hot as him 
• “well, when i came out today, i didnt think i would be on a date with a pretty person like you” he gave you a cocky smile where you immediately knew he was a flirt
  
• but now he was y o u r flirt
• stop you only JUST met him 
• “well when i came out today, i thought the only thing i would be talking about was the new avengers movie” you shrugged
  
• hyunsuk laughed and shook his head
• “thats odd, i just came from the theater too… watching the same movie” your eyes widened
  
• it was crazy about how you and your soulmate could be in the same place without even knowing it
• “wow, that’s like fate r-right?” 
  
• you noted shyly
• the boy nodded
• “exactly like fate” 
  

❀ genre: college life + romance + a dash of angst 

❀word count: 5491

❀ a/n: just read the tags below but if ur too lazy to basically: don’t expect lots of updates and i just wrote this as a form of therapy for me. i guess i missed writing and needed to rant /shrugs/ 

also this title sucks but idk what to do with it either LMAO 

❀ ❀ ❀

It was a quiet, winter evening; the snow was gently falling outside and the laughter of college students filled the dorm hallways. 

I, on the other hand, was curled up in a ball on my bed, reading a book. The soft sounds of my hand turning the pages lulled me in a dreamland of swoon-worthy boys. 

Suddenly, I heard a loud bang. 

I flinched and jumped up on my bed to see what had dropped. 

“Sorry! Just dropped my pan, how’s it going?” I sighed thankfully, realizing it was just my roommate, Naeun. Naeun was a freshman like me; we hadn’t talked much before rooming together. We got along most of the time, but being around people just irked me sometimes.

I pointed at the book, trying to hide the girlish daze in my eyes. 

“Just reading, like usual.” I kept my words short, hoping she would get the hint that I wasn’t in the mood to talk. It wasn’t like I was mad at her or anything, but I need my breaks with all the socialness of college. I don’t think people understand how tiring it is for introverts to have to be “on” all the time; “on” meaning social. 

She nodded. “What book?” 

“It’s called ‘Win Some, Lose Some’ by Shay Savage. It’s a really amazing novel about a boy who was Autism and a girl who …” I trailed off when I realized she had her back towards me. The sound of her pots and pans flying into her drawer was distracting. “A girl who befriends him basically. How was your day?” I asked politely. 

I braced myself for her long winded answer. Most people just say “good” or “it was pretty alright” but not Naeun, she pops off and talks about things no one really needs to know, and no one really cares. 

“It was okay. I saw one of my friends on campus and I waved to her because it’s so weird, right? Seeing people you know on such a large campus. And then I walked to English and my professor was just such in a good mood today, she’s so nice, I love her.” 

I smiled carefully, hoping she doesn’t realize how much I do not care about who she waves at or how her professor looks. 

“Then, I went to the library and did some of my math homework and I got started on the next chapter. And then I started to do my English homework which I got kind of stumped on. Anyway, all I could think about is this big burrito when I was studying.” She took out two large burritos and plopped them on a blue plate. 

I nodded and told her I was going to go back to my book. She nodded and right as I was about to plug in my earbuds to drown out her voice while I read, she stopped me with her voice.

“Hey, I’m bored, do you think Ahyoung and Somi are busy?” I took out my earbuds once more and shrugged. 

“Probably not.” 

“Hm. Is it cool if I invite them over? I mean, you don’t have to say yes if you just want to be alone, I know how you get like that.” 

I forced an awkward smile. “Um, I actually want to just chill and be alone, but you can always go to their rooms… they live in the same building.” I tried not to let my annoyance show in my voice, but it was rising. 

She furrowed her brows and sighed. “Yeah, but they’re so far…” She whined. 

Don’t roll your eyes. Don’t roll your eyes. Don’t roll your eyes. 

“I mean, they always come to our dorm, maybe go to them today?” I really didn’t care what she did, I just wanted to be alone. 

I turned on my music and opened my book so I didn’t have to hear her complain. She went back on her phone and I was content reading in peace. 

Five minutes later, I heard loud knocking on the door. 

What? She did not just…

“Oh, hey, Ahyoung! How’s it going?” 

No way, she did not just invite people over after I told her not to. 

I felt my blood boil, but I tried to keep my calm. I was not going to make a scene, especially since Ahyoung was my friend. 

I locked eyes with Naeun, who I visibly glared at. 

“It’s chill, y/n, you don’t have to talk we are just gonna hang a bit and then go watch some TV.” 

I bit my tongue to not snap at her. Her insensitivity was rubbing me the wrong way, but I didn’t want to blow up. We were all adults here, I didn’t want to seem like a child who got irritated when they were forced to socialize with their mom’s friends. 

Soon, I heard another knock. 

“Hey, Sooyoung! Come in, we are picking a show to watch.” 

I tried to calm down and read my book, but when I say I want to be alone, I really mean I want to be alone. 

I felt myself boil over in anger as I could still hear them over my earbuds. Their laughter and constant chatter couldn’t be tuned out. 

“Ok, we are gonna go to the lounge and watch TV. High five!” Naeun held her hand right in front of my face and I hit it just to make her leave. I swear, I’d rather hit her face instead. 

As soon as I heard the door slam shut, I pulled out my earbuds and went to rinse my face. 

How insensitive of her! I explicitly told her not to invite anyone over to the dorm, and there she goes. She can’t walk up one flight of stairs to see our friends?? So fucking rude. 

Living in the dorms as an introverted person was terribly hard. I don’t even know if introverted is the right word for it anymore if I want to go days without talking to people. And it sucks when no one truly understands me and doesn’t take my words seriously. 

I groaned and stared at myself in the mirror.

“Just two more quarters and you’re free for the summer.” 

I sighed and wiped my face on my towel. 

College was hard. 

I had found my group in college, but unfortunately, I had made the same mistakes as I did in high school. First, I stayed connected with some friends from high school who I had planned on cutting off. And most importantly, I put too much time and effort into people who disrespect me and don’t care for me. 

And now I live with someone like that. 

It angered me to feel so out of place, so alone in the dorms even when I had friends. Whenever I wanted to escape, there was no where to go. All my friends were here. 

I clenched my fist. 

All of a sudden, I couldn’t just sit down and read. I glanced over in the corner of the room and saw the camera from my photography class sitting there. 

I looked outside my window and saw the soft snow falling down. 

I quickly pulled on a warm, puffy jacket, jeans, and headed out to take some photos with my trustworthy camera. 

—–

The air was colder than I remembered. I felt my nose crinkle as the wind blew snow into my nose. 

The city was beautiful; it was painted in white sparkles. I snapped a few photos and took a deep breath. 

I loved being outside and having no one notice me; this was one of my favorite things about living in the city and college in general. I snapped pictures of groups of people walking across the street. The blur of the street lights combined with the softness of the snow captivated me. 

“Some nice pics you got there.” 

I jumped at the voice and almost dropped my camera; thankfully, it’s always wrapped around my neck.

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t think you’d get so scared.” 

I looked up and saw a boy around my age staring at me. And dang, was he cute. 

I thanked God for the weather because my cheeks were already red. 

“Uh, um, it’s fine.” I fibbed quickly. I felt awkward because I didn’t know how to act around guys my age, especially ones as cute as him. 

Be friendly, be friendly. He just wants to be friends.

“Um, I’m y/n by the way.” I took out my hand to shake his. He chuckled and reciprocated the action.

“Jihoon, Park Jihoon. You live in this building too?” He pointed at the building next door to me. I shook my head and watched as the snow fell onto my shoulders.

“Oh no, I live in this one.” He nodded. “Are you a freshman?” I asked. 

He laughed heartily. I liked how he didn’t hide his emotions. “Oh no, I’m a sophomore this year but I’m an RA in this building.” 

I made an “O” shape with my mouth. “Ah, a resident adviser. I’m applying to be one next year, kinda nervous but hopefully I’ll get the job.” 

His eyes widened. “Oh really? I rarely meet people who want to baby a bunch of freshmen.” I laughed at his comment. “But hey, it’d be cool if we were in the same dorm next year. You could teach me to take such pretty pictures.” I laughed and flipped through the photos on my camera out of habit.

“Don’t get your hopes up, I haven’t even been accepted for the job yet. Also, I’m taking photography 101 with Professor Lee Miyoung, I’m sure she’s a better teacher than I am.” I teased. 

He shrugged. “Well, I doubt she’s as pretty as you.” 

My heart froze. 

W-what? Did he just flirt with me? Oh god, what do I say now? How do I flirt back? I-

“Sorry, was that weird? I wanted to call you pretty but I didn’t mean to lowkey talk about a professor’s beauty either.” He looked mildly embarrassed when he shook out his hair full of snow. 

I gave him a small smile. “Um, no, not weird, it was actually kind of smooth. I don’t really know how to respond to flirting.” 

Oh my god. I just said that. 

His eyes lit up mischievously as I tried not to blush even harder.

“Oh flirting? Is that what we are doing?” He teased.

“Technically, that’s what you are doing.” He laughed loudly and his voice echoed throughout the streets. I only hoped to have that loud of a voice as an RA. 

“You got me there.” He then looked down at his watch and frowned. 

“What’s wrong?”

He looked up at me with his soft brown puppy eyes. I swear this guy is too cute to be real. “Um, my shift is starting soon.” He then took out his phone. “I know we just met, but you seem pretty cool-”

Before he could finish, I took his phone and typed in my number.

“There, now you can teach me how to be an RA and I can teach you how to take photos.” I said as confidently as I could. 

He seemed a bit surprised at my voice, but nodded.

“Sounds great, see you later.” He waved to be as he walked away, but slipped on a patch of snow. 

“Ah, be careful!” I shouted. He gave me a small smile and walked back into his dorm.

Well, at least this day ended on a high note. 

—–

“Hey, where’d you go last night? We were wondering where you were at.” 

I’m an adult, I don’t have to tell you everywhere I go.

I bit back the words and forced a small smile. “Oh, I just went to take some photos for my photography class. The snow looked really pretty last night.” I left out the minor detail that a cute boy started to talk to me. I wanted to keep the giddiness to myself. 

“Oh cool. I just came back from the gym. I saw a really cute boy in there. He was really fit, dark skinned, dark hair. And he smiled at me and I smiled back. We didn’t get to talk because I was so out of breath, but I hope he’s at the gym again.” She went off without me asking her too. 

I understand that I’m being a bit tough on her, but she irritated me first by inviting people over when I told her not to. People always talk about communication in college, but sometimes people just don’t listen to you. 

“Cool, hope you see him again.” I said nicely. I have to put on a nice face with my roommates, as I don’t want to be in an awkward living situation. 

“Yeah… how was your day today?” 

—–

“And then she just invited you guys over, disregarding what I had just said before! Isn’t that rude?” I voiced to Ahyoung, my best friend. I’d known her before going to college, well, I’ve known her since we were 8. 

She looked a bit hesitant on what to say. 

I went on about the situation. “I’m not saying I hate seeing you guys, but you know how I get when I want to be alone. I…I just want to be alone and it makes me crazy when I see people. Plus, I told Naeun I wanted to chill out and be alone and then she just invites you guys over, without telling me?? I’m not crazy.” I ranted. 

Ahyoung sighed and took a sip of her coffee filled with milk and sugar. 

“I mean, she did say she was inviting us over in the groupchat.” 

I glared at the younger girl. “Excuse me, I was sitting right next to her, she knows I didn’t check my phone. It’s rude to not tell your roommate you’re inviting people over, and it’s even ruder when we just talked about how I didn’t want her to invite people over. It’s not like she forgot within the five minutes.” 

“True. That wasn’t nice of her.” I noticed she hesitated on saying anything bad about her. We were all friends, but I was the one who had problems with friends in the group, as usual. I didn’t like very many people, but I was civil and nice to everyone; that’s what being an adult is all about. 

“Yeah…” I trailed off. I don’t know when it got so weird between us, but it felt like I couldn’t talk to my best friend about things in my life. I didn’t even tell her about the cute guy who flirted with me. Deep inside of me, I knew she didn’t deserve to know these things about me when she didn’t want to hear the bad parts of my life. 

It felt like everyone wants to be around me when I’m laughing and joking, never when I’m serious and want to talk about my feelings. No one wants to listen when I want to rant about real things in life, yet they love when someone rants about some “dumb” thing a girl did in the hallway. 

I didn’t get why they judged people before they knew them. I always tried to talk with people before I made judgements, yet people think it’s weird when I judge people I talk to. That’s the way you’re supposed to judge people… when you get to know them personally. Duh.

As I was talking, I saw her eyes focused on something far away from me. 

I turned around and saw her crush standing there. She stopped listening to me as he waved at her. I saw her eyes bright up when she saw him and I grew annoyed. I was telling her about something that was bothering me, and then she chooses a boy over me. Not cool. 

“Hello? Earth to Ahyoung??” I teased. She shrugged me off. 

“He’s so cute. I know he doesn’t like me, but I can’t help myself.” 

I snorted. “Yeah, he doesn’t like you and actually, he only dates white girls and you my friend, are not white.” I knew I was being harsh, but I hear about him every single second and it angers me when I want to vent about something in my life and she doesn’t think I’m as important as her crush.

She flinched at my harsh words. 

“You just wouldn’t understand, you’ve never had a crush before. You’ve never been in love before.” She said matter of factly. 

Ouch. 

This was all true, but it hurt when she said it like that. I’ve never felt romantic love, wow, thanks for reminding me. Maybe I’m too busy taking care of my dumb friends who don’t care about me. 

Maybe.

—–

“Bye, see you later.” I waved her off as we both went to class.

As soon as I turned around, I saw a familiar face. 

Jihoon. 

I fixed my hair and prayed none of my mascara had smeared on my face. 

Be confident, make friends. 

“Hey, Jihoon.” He turned around with a confused look on his face. I felt a leap in my heart when he smiled at me.

“Oh hey y/n, it’s weird to see you without a camera.” He joked. 

I felt my heart skip a beat when he said my name; I was so used to people forgetting about me. 

“Hah, well it’s weird to see you in the daylight.” I joked. When I saw him left an eyebrow, I knew I said something wrong. 

I felt my face burn up at my own words. 

“Not like that.” I blubbered out. He let out a light laugh. 

“Well, I mean, you’re right.” He took note of my embarrassed state and changed the subject. “So, what class are you headed to?”

“History of the Ancient Greek and Roman worlds, how bout you?” 

“Woah, what an interesting class. I’m heading to choir practice actually.” That made me stop in my tracks.

“Wait, you sing?” 

He chuckled. “Yup, that is what you do in choir.” I felt a bit embarrassed at my statement. “I’m joking, I’m joking, but yes, I do sing. Have been doing so for my whole life.”

“I did choir up until high school, I didn’t feel good enough for college. I still don’t know how to read music and it’s been years.” 

“It’s hard, but you get used to it. You should give it a shot if you really want to though. Or come watch one of our performances.” I smiled at him.

“One day.” I stopped walking and pointed at the building in front of us. “This is me. I’ll see you later?” 

He nodded and smiled. 

“I’ll see you later.”

—–

Two weeks had passed and I hadn’t seen much of Jihoon. We waved to each other in passing, but it was midterms soon, and exams were the only thing on my mind. We sent each other memes daily though and we just got each other’s humor- that was rare. 

I was filling out my history study guide until I heard my roommate, Naeun, walk in.

“Hey, y/n~ Ahyoung, Sooyoung and I saw you talking to a boy yesterday~ Oooooooo what’s his name?” 

She sat right in front of me, not giving me any personal space. 

I tried not to blush but honestly, my face was turning red because I was so annoyed at her.

“His name is Jihoon. He’s an RA in the dorm next to us, we met at an RA informational meeting.” I lied. I didn’t want to tell her I ran out of the dorm because I couldn’t handle her and people.

“He’s cute, nice body too.” I felt a an overwhelming sense of jealously and protectiveness wash over me. I hated it. I didn’t want to be this person. I probably only felt this way because I didn’t like Naeun right now. 

“Yeah, you can have him if you want. I’m not into him.” I lied. 

She raised a brow. “Really? Don’t be upset if he falls for me then.” I knew she was joking when she flipped her hair dramatically, but I wasn’t into it. 

I felt my buried insecurities rise when I stared intensely at her face. Her eyebrows were neatly plucked, which I was always too scared to do. Her skin was tanned and even, not blotchy and red like mine. Her fashion was trendy and most boys liked her because of her socialness, on the contrary, I was awkward and mean to boys, unintentionally. 

I just went back to doing my homework, shaking off the comparison. 

—–

Later that night, I saw a message pop up in my texts which was weird because I usually mute everyone.

‘hey midterms are killing me and i dont understand anything… want ice cream?’ 

I tried not to laugh even though both my roommates were at the library. 

‘uhhh shouldnt u be studying if u dont understand anything?? mayb??’ 

‘LOL thats not how it works young padawan’ I rolled my eyes. He thinks he’s so much older than me. 

‘also I don’t eat ice cream, i don’t eat dairy’

‘… aight imma head out’ 

I snorted and tilted my head back in laughter. 

‘ok, no ice cream… what DO you like?’

You. I like you. 

… Definitely not sending that.

‘UMMM i like hot chocolate?’ 

‘okay, i’ll be at your dorm in 5. what is your room number again?’

‘303′ 

‘aight’ 

I looked down at short shorts and tank top and then at the harsh winds outside. I threw on a pair of cute leggings and a heavy sweater. I put on a black jacket over it and placed a beanie on my head. 

I did my brows and put on a few swipes of mascara. I carefully applied my lightly colored lip balm and sprayed face mist to look dewy and cute. 

Is this a date? Or is this just two friends being adventurous? 

Whatever, I want to look cute at least.

Seconds after I finish, I hear a knock at my door. I took a deep breath.

This isn’t a date. This isn’t a date. Calm down.

I opened the door. 

He was wearing a puffy jacket and dark black jeans that outlined his thigh muscles. Yum.

I also noticed he was wearing a gray beanie… which was identical to mine.

“Cute hat.” I noted. He grinned and tugged on my beanie. 

“Same goes for you. Ready for some hot chocolate?” 

“Yes, where are we going to get said chocolate caliente?” 

Jihoon gave me a weird look. “Chocolate what?” 

I stared at him, stunned. “Chocolate caliente. Caliente means hot in Spanish. Therefore, hot chocolate. You didn’t take Spanish in high school?” 

He shook his head. “Nope, I took Japanese because I’m a weeb.” I snorted. 

“Wow, I should be surprised but I’m not.” He pushed me playfully and I tried not to freak out over the warmth of his skin. 

“You’re telling me you don’t watch any anime?” 

I rolled my eyes. “Of course I watch some anime. But am I full blown weeb… no.” 

He narrowed his eyes at me. “I can change that, don’t worry.”

“You still didn’t tell me where we are going.” My fingers felt crisp from the cold air. It wasn’t snowing tonight, but the ground was still white. 

“Aha, we are going to my favorite cafe called ‘Pink Heart Cafe’. It is decked in pink hearts.” 

“As expected from a Pink Heart Cafe.” I joked. In the near distance, I noticed a sign that had a baby pink heart that wrote ‘Pink Heart Cafe’ in cute lettering. 

I crinkled my nose from the cold air. “What, you don’t like pink?” 

“No, no, I love the color pink actually. It’s just kinda cold out here.” He nodded. 

“Maybe it would be warmed if we held hands… maybe.” 

For the first time, I felt comfortable with someone’s flirtatious comment.

I smirked and hooked my hand with his. I felt my heart beater faster. Much faster. And I loved it. 

I saw him smile widely and hide it with his hair. 

“I’m a lucky guy.” He whispered. 

We walked into the cafe. 

“Hi! Welcome to Pink Heart Cafe, for here or to go?” 

“For here, please.” The woman nodded. 

“Please take a seat. We will come take your order soon.”

We took our seats in the corner, next to the pink fairy lights. I was in love with the aesthetic. 

“Cute place. And fancy it seems, they come take our order at the table.” I sang a bit of Twice’s Fancy. 

“Oh gosh, you love Twice?? Me too!” I shrugged nonchalantly. 

“I mean, I like them, their songs are cute and catchy but I’m not a diehard fan.” 

He frowned. I can change that too. 

I sighed and rolled my eyes dramatically. “Wow, it seems like there are a lot of things you want to change about me. What do you even like about me?” I teased. 

He smiled harder and I noticed a blush on his face. 

“Uhhh, that’s a good question. I like… I like how you’re honest with your emotions. I like how you’re good at photography. I like that you want to become an RA because of the money and–” I gasped and pushed him on the arm.

“That’s not the only reason! Yes… the pay is good, but I like helping people.” 

Our laughter died down as he gazed at me intensely. 

“You like helping people? Tell me more about that.” 

I paused. No one had asked me that before. 

“Um, no one’s asked me that before. I guess I just like to see people happy. I like appealing to people’s emotions and most times, I’m pretty good at making people like me.” I said honestly. I saw his face light up at my words. “And I also want to be a teacher after I graduate, so being an RA would help improve my social skills and teach me how to interact with those younger than me and work through their problems. I don’t know, people say it’s hard and that it can be tough if kids come to you with suicidal thoughts and feelings of anxiety and depression, but I mean, I just want to do it and give back to the community somehow… I don’t know. ” I mumbled off, feeling like I said too much.

His gaze was so serious, I was scared I bored him to death.

He leaned closer to me and I freaked out. I held my breath, waiting for what was next until he spoke. 

“You’re so awesome.” He finally said. 

That… that was surprising.

“Um, thanks?”

“I’m serious! That’s so amazing why you want to be an RA. Honestly, I took up this job because it pays well and I’m good at talking to people, but sometimes I couldn’t care less about my residents. I like how you’re so kind to people.”

I laughed, “I’m not that nice.” 

“Yeah right, you were nice to me the first time we met. And I could’ve been a creepy dude and I almost made you break your camera.” 

“Well, I was nice to you because you are a cute boy.” He choked on his drink at my blunt words. I grew shy all of a sudden and laughed with him. 

“Jesus, give a boy a warning before you say such words.” He was pink in the face and I felt my heart warm. 

“It’s true, you are attractive. But it is also true that I’m not nice. My roommate is irritating the heck out of me and I have to tell myself every time I talk to her to say nice things and not hurt her feelings ‘cause she’s so damn sensitive.” 

He paused for a moment. I was nervous he would think I was a bad person. Which… technically is what I’m trying to convince him of. 

“Wow, you just got ten times nicer.” Now it was my turn to choke on my drink. 

“What? I just told you I have to force myself to be nice to my roommate even though I just want to snap at her all the time.” 

Jihoon leaned back in his chair with a smug look on his face. “Exactly! Most people would’ve just called her a bitch and moved on! Moved out or from what I’ve seen, some girls do mean shit like throwing another girl’s clothes out of her closet or flirting with her boyfriend. You… you just be nice when someone is mean to you.”

“She’s not mean, just rubbing me the wrong way.” Jihoon rolled his eyes.

“See? You are still defending her even though I’m sure she’s putting you through more than other people would take.” 

I shrugged. “I don’t know, most people don’t take me seriously when I talk about it.” 

“Try me.” 

I hesitated at first, but when I saw his open and honest look, I spilled.

“Well, I’m quite an introverted person so I need my alone time. And when I told her, this was actually the night that I met you, um, I told her that I wanted to be alone. And then she invited people over to the room and yes, they left soon, but when I’m in my isolation mood, I just… I just don’t even want to look at people.” 

He stared at me with a curious look so I rambled on. “I know, it’s dumb-”

He placed a gentle hand on top of mine.

“No, that’s not dumb at all. She should’ve respected your words. I would be so mad. Give me more!” He pounded his fist on the table for dramatic effect. 

I felt my heart lighten when he wanted to hear more of my words. I was so used to people ignoring me and brushing over my concerns.

“Uh, well, just… well not just Naeun, my roommate, but some of my friends in the same dorm as me. They are just really judgmental and the negativity just pains me. I don’t like judging others before getting to know them, so hearing them talk bad about random people they don’t know just pains me. And I’m no saint, yes I judge people, but I make sure I talk to them first and get to know them before I make judgments.”

Jihoon smiled. “You keep getting better the more I get to know you. I do the same thing, my friends think I’m crazy when I say ‘hey that dude looks kinda mean and no one likes him, i’ll be friends with him’!” 

My eyes widened. “Oh my god, that’s how I met most of my friends!” 

We laughed as we bad mouthed our friends and the people who have hurt us. 

“Why do you stick with such crappy friends? No offense, you deserve so much better.” 

I shrugged. “I mean, everyone says that to me and truly, I don’t even know. I just feel so connected to them now and they have their good moments-”

“Good moments aren’t enough if they consistently hurt you.”

“I know, I know! I just… maybe I’m not that good of a person then if I stay with them. Like people say, you are who your friends are.” 

“That’s bull, you’re a good person, I know that. And your friends don’t even care to listen to you rant, I can tell I’m the first person you told all this stuff too because you have flames in your eyes. You deserve friends you can trust and are able to rant to. I promise.” 

I bit my lip, thinking of what to say. 

“Thank you, I guess I just think I am helping them by staying with them. I don’t want to hurt their feelings.” 

“Just know that you have me now, and if you ever need to rant or vent or whatever, I’m here for you. You have me now.” 

I felt a wave of emotion wash over me. No one’s ever said that to me before and meant it. I know he meant it, it was written all over his face. 

I nodded slowly, accepting the moment we were having. 

We sat in a moment of silence until the waiter came for the check.

I dug through my pockets to get out the ten dollar bill I stuffed in there. 

“Hah funny,” Jihoon chided when he whipped out his card before I could do anything. I gasped. 

“Ah, Jihoon, I brought money!” 

He tsked and stood when the waiter gave him his card back. “Yeah right, I’d never let a girl pay on the first date, that’s like… illegal.” I rolled my eyes, until I realized what he had just admit.

“Date?” I questioned carefully. 

He looked away from my gaze, like he didn’t mean to say the word. 

“Yes… date. Do you have a problem with that?” 

I grinned.

“Nope.”