I am utterly calm as I knock on his door at 11 in the morning, the day after Christmas.

Who knows if he’s home? I could have texted, but I figured he would be too suspicious.

It doesn’t matter. If he doesn’t open the door today, I’ll come tomorrow. If he isn’t here tomorrow, I’ll keep coming back, again and again, until he sees me.

The lock clicks.

Joonmyeon opens the door. His expression could freeze flames. I can see the holster of a gun peek out from inside his coat.

But I am not afraid.

“Why are you here?” Joonmyeon says coldly.

I step up to him and take a deep breath. He arches an eyebrow. Sneers down at me.

The malicious look on his face is replaced by shock as I lace my fingers through his.

“I want to spend the day with you,” I tell him evenly. “Everything we’ve ever wanted to do. Let’s do it today.”

He stares at me in disbelief. Like he expects me to change my mind at any moment. Burst into tears or start screaming at him or stab him while he is not looking.

But I simply stand in front of him.

I have never been so sure about anything.

He locks eyes with me.

An eternity passes between us.

And then he closes the gaps between us and takes my lips.

I close my eyes as I melt into his embrace. He is so tentative as he gently caresses my face, so tender and loving. A surge of affection rushes into my chest; I love him so much, I appreciate him so much, he is so caring, so kind. He detaches from my lips, moves down my neck, leaving a trail of soft kisses. There is no urgency now like there has always been between our romantic encounters. I sigh with pleasure. He nuzzles his face into the nape of my neck.

“Why?” he murmurs.

“Because.”

He pulls back, scans my face with wide eyes.

“Let’s go to Jeju,” he says in a low voice. “I’ll rent out a resort- or let’s go to Japan, or Fiji, or-,”

I smile and shake my head. “No, no. Joonmyeon, I just want to spend a normal day with you. Let’s just have fun.”

He gives me a long look.

And then says, “Okay.”

“Oh my god, you !” I giggle as Joonmyeon wobbles around on his skates.

“Shut up,” Joonmyeon grunts. Other skaters duck around his outstretched arms, trying not to get hit as he teeters back and forth.

“I can’t believe this. The Kim Joonmyeon can’t skate?” I smirk. “I should record this and send this to your gang cronies.”

He gives me a sharp look. I laugh even harder as he desperately tries to stomp over to me- only to tumble down onto the ice instead.

“Here.” I make a big deal out of sighing and sliding over to help him up.

But when I reach out a hand, he pulls me down with him.

“Wow, , I try and help and this is what happens?!”

Joonmyeon smirks. “That’s what you get for making fun of me.”

After much difficulty, and several pointed jabs of “I thought you could bench 350,” and “You said you were stronger than me,” we manage to hoist ourselves up off the ice. The frosty winter air nips at my skin as I draw closer to Joonmyeon; he pulls me into a warm embrace and rests his chin on the top of my head.

“You wanna go get hot chocolate?” he murmurs.

“No way,” I whine softly. “We just got our skates.”

“Then teach me how to skate.”

“Fine. I’ll stop laughing at you.”

“Good.” He places a light kiss on the tip of my nose. “Then let’s buy hot chocolate.”

I feel like I am flying as we drift across the ice, my mittened hand in Joonmyeon’s. People give us smiles as we pass by them; I can practically hear them thinking, What a lovely couple! When a little girl points at Joonmyeon and loudly tells her mother, “Boyfriend!”, I turn red while Joonmyeon beams with pleasure.

“What’s next?” I murmur. “Couple rings? T-shirts with our faces on them? Lockets with locks of each other’s hair in them?”

“I was thinking matching tattoos,” Joonmyeon says nonchalantly. “You know, the usual.”

“Of course.”

He grins, gently running the backs of his fingers of my cheek. I allow a wave of pleasure to flow through my body.

“Why are we doing this?” he whispers.

A lump wells up in my throat- I quickly swallow it away.

“Let’s go get that hot chocolate you were talking about.”

Roses. That is the first thing I see when we step off the elevator. Pink and white and red and yellow scattered around the rooftop as far as I can see. Softly glowing candles sit between the wreaths of flowers, creating a bright contrast to the grey winter sky.

“It’s beautiful,” I breathe. “I didn’t know a restaurant like this existed in Seoul.”

“I was saving this place,” he tells me.

“For what?”

There is a wistful expression on his face as he responds, “For some day.”  

The waiter brings out platters of focaccia bread accompanied with ox bone soup, bruschetta topped with kimchi. It is a unique fusion of Western and Eastern cuisine; a perfect blend of something new yet familiar.

“This is so you,” I mutter. Joonmyeon looks up from his bowl, his mouth bulging with soup, and I almost choke on my bread.

“Whas’ just me?” he finally asks.

“This place. It’s so fancy, but not fancy.” Something dawns upon me, and I smirk. “You’re like those artsy hipster dudes-,”

“Don’t even say it-,”

“-who go to all these quirky places and are like, oh, these hors d'oeuvres are so posh, I love how the garlic complements the paprika in the flour-,”

“What are you even saying?” Joonmyeon scowls. “Paprika- that makes no sense!”

“That’s the kind of person you are!” I am laughing so loudly that people sitting at surrounding tables look at us.

“Okay, we’re not getting dessert, then.”

“Wha- hey!”

“You can’t bully me and have no consequences!”

“Joonmyeon.”

He rolls his eyes as I stick out my bottom lip and stare at him with a pathetic pout.

“Fine,” he grumbles. “Look up a good place near here. I’ll leave the dessert-picking place to you.”

“It’s fine. You pick.” I rest my head on my hands. “I trust your judgement.”

He gives me a cocky smile as he pulls out his phone.

I don’t mention that my phone is sitting at the bottom of my purse, turned off.

I have no plans of turning it back on today.

We are strolling hand-in-hand down Dongdaemun Street, admiring the setting sun, when we hear, “Hyo?”

Joonmyeon and I turn. Seolhyun and Yuna are gaping at us in astonishment. Their eyes flit down to me and Joonmyeon interlocked hands, and then up to our sheepish expressions.

“Hey,” Joonmyeon finally coughs, breaking the silence.

“I knew it!” Yuna shrieks. She frantically jiggles Seolhyun’s arm. “Seol, I called it! How long have you two been dating?”

“We’re not-,” I try to say, but she jabbers over me.

“I knew your fight was, like, a lovers’ quarrel or something!” Yuna abruptly sticks her hand out in front of Seolhyun. “Pay up.”

Joonmyeon snorts. “You two bet on us?”

“Kyungsoo and Sehun were a part of this too,” Seolhyun shrugs.

“Oh, and Chanyeol,” Yuna adds.

I shake my head at the sheer absurdity of this situation. We weren’t even dating; the tension Joonmyeon and I were having was caused by something a lot more serious than that. Anger begins to rise up in me as I remember why exactly Joonmyeon and I were fighting, but I have to quickly force it down, tell myself to drop it.

    Seolhyun subtly withdraws her phone from her pocket and directs it at me and Joonmyeon. “And... got it. I can’t wait to see how Chanyeol reacts to this.”

    “Guys, what the ,” I groan, and Yuna and Seolhyun quickly scurry off, giggling uncontrollably. Just as they round the corner, Yuna hollers, “Don’t forget to use protection, you two!” Passerby pointedly look at Joonmyeon and I as I proceed to nearly melt on the sidewalk in a puddle of embarrassed goop.

    Joonmyeon clears his throat. “So, sweetie, did you bring the whips and chains, or was I supposed to?” he loudly asks. If the people around us weren’t staring, they sure are now.

    “ you,” I hiss. “Let’s go back. We’ve humiliated ourselves enough today.”

    “Aw, but you love me.”

    “Go yourself.”

A/N: LMFAO WARNING SXUAL CONTENT LMFAO LMFAO 

    “, Joonmyeon, I love you,” I whimper an hour later as Joonmyeon dives in between my legs. He’s made it impossible for me to do anything but moan incomprehensible expressions of bliss as he plays with me like a jar of putty. I want nothing more than to thread my fingers through his hair, yank that perfectly styled coif into a messy tangle of hair. I can feel him smirk against me; he nips the skin right at the top of my inner thigh and my back arches in pleasure.

    “Tell me you belong to,” he growls.

“You,” I whisper- and then inhale sharply when he nips my skin once more, harder.

“Say it like you mean it.”

“I’m yours, Joonmyeon,” I breathe. “I- I love you so ing much. We...,"

I swallow. My gaze searches his.

There is something in his eyes that looks desperate, painful.

And then it hits me.

He knows.

The realization sinks through my stomach, seeps through my body.

Slowly, I tilt my head upwards and press a gentle kiss onto his lips.

“I’m ready,” I whisper.

A look of understanding passes between us.

He nods.

Sora had said her first time had hurt. She’d talked about a lot of other awkward things that had happened, too.

But something about this seems completely natural- nearly instinctive. Joonmyeon and I know each other so well; our union is almost effortless. The sensation of him moving inside of me causes a sense of elation to build inside my stomach that I have never felt before. Nothing I have ever experienced has come close to this feeling. It is indescribable. Unbeatable.

His pace intensifies; our movements grow sloppier and rougher. He yanks my head back by my hair and buries his face into the nape of my neck- my nails dig through the skin on his back- there are sighs and grunts and whispers of yes and fingers everywhere and holy , I have never felt this close to another human being before, and the fact that my first time is with Joonmyeon makes it all the more thrilling. I clench around him and he tightens his grip around me, increases his pace.

I love him.

We both release at the same time in a chorus of moans and it takes me a few moments to gain a sense of reality once more. My vision is blurred at the edges and the only feelings I am aware of are the weight of Joonmyeon’s body against mine, the sensuality of our linked forms, and the rush of his come pumping through me.

It continues for the rest of the night, until I am too exhausted to do anything but slump down onto the bed next to him. Joonmyeon tucks me into his downy comforter and gently wraps his arms around my waist.

Silence hangs in the air.

And then he utters, “I know why today happened.”

I keep quiet.

“You’re letting me go.”

A lump wells up in my throat. I cannot bring myself to speak.

“I understand,” Joonmyeon murmurs.

I want to tell him that this has gone on for long enough. That he used me and lied to me and ed up my life and I am finally letting him go, so that I can get closure, experience what I could have experienced with him in an alternate universe. So that I can turn him in and will stop suffering from the emotional turmoil that I undergo every single time I even hear his ing name mentioned.

Instead, I unsuccessfully try and hold back my tears.

“Shh,” Joonmyeon breathes, tenderly wiping my face with his fingers. “Don’t think about it now, Hyolin. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

“I ing love you, Joonmyeon,” I whisper. “I- I can’t-,”

“I love you, too, Hyo. You are my world.” Joonmyeon takes my face in his hands. “But you know this can’t go on for any longer. We both have our duties. And this is ruining both of us. We need to be done.”

I rub my eyes, nod in agreement. Take a deep, staggering breath.

“But for now,” he says. “Let’s just talk."

We spend the night recounting our best moments. How pretentious and jocky I thought Joonmyeon was when I first saw him. How he knew he hated me, yes, but how he couldn't help but notice how beautiful I was. We laugh about all the pranks we pulled on Baekhyun, all the stupid adventures we had in downtown Seoul ("That wouldn't have happened if you didn't have such a ty sense of direction!" I tell him, laughing). The study sessions, the long student council meetings ("Can Dean Choi tell how fake I'm being around him?" Joonmyeon muses), the school soccer matches that he dragged me to.

"We never got to make that brownie cheesecake recipe I wanted to try," I say.

Joonmyeon nestles my head under his chin and tells me about how attracted he was to me. How he craved my laugh and how he loved when I kicked his while sparring and how he'd turn to me after getting back a test and just know that I got a perfect score. How he tried to deny for the longest time that he was in love with me.

It is the best night of my life.

But like all good things, it must come to a close sooner or later.

By the time the sun rises the next morning, I am gone.

A/N: i cant believe i just wrote this lmao wtf jesus...... had a v fun day tonight and last night, college is ok but i still have so much to do im procrastinating hella by writing this!! 

edit: i put something about a but everyone thought hyo waas gnna have joonmyeons kids so i took it out. no children in this story. kids. i hate kids. anyway

this is tgross i am rereading this this is nasty