**There’s one part of the chapter that I’ve marked with red asterisks (it’s near the end) because there’s a bit of violence (nothing graphic) and a couple of threats, but I personally don’t think it’s enough to be marked M and it’s very, very short. You’ll see what the content is when you get there, but if you’re not comfortable with it, I’ll sum it up in my A/N. The start of the scene and the end are all indicated with the red asterisks.  

Part 2: Duet

Soyoung huddles closer together in the closet, trying to keep her breathing low and inaudible, though it’s difficult because her heart is racing and she can barely breathe if she keeps quiet. She’s hidden underneath a layer of clothing that’s hung up in her closet, and while she’s made sure that every single part of her isn’t in view, she’s still terrified. Her breathing sounds overwhelmingly loud in the silence, and she strains to hear for her stepfather’s footsteps. He’s going to be looking for her anytime soon, she knows—it’s just a matter of time, ripping apart her room and yelling at her to come out, and if she does—

She muffles the sob into her hand. It’s happened uncountable times; yet still, Soyoung’s terrified. It’s fine, she tells herself, though none of her believes it. It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine, except it isn’t really and she knows that full well.

Footsteps sound—he’s going up the staircase—and she brings her knees closer to her chest. She counts the steps to calm herself—one, two, three, four—and she knows that he’s reaching for the knob. Three seconds later, the door to her room is thrown open.

“Soyoung!” he bellows, and she holds her breath. “Hwa Soyoung, get out here!”

Something shatters. Soyoung squeezes her eyes shut. He’ll check the closet for sure, but she’s hidden deep inside and her clothes cover all of her, and she can only hope that he won’t look there. Please, please, please, she thinks. Whoever’s listening, whoever’s out there, don’t let him find me tonight.

The door to the closet is ripped open. Soyoung nearly screams at how sudden the noise it, but she manages to keep shut. Don’t look here. Please don’t look here.

He curses angrily under his breath, but after a couple seconds later, the footsteps fade from her closet. He remains in her room for a little while longer, and then Soyoung hears him storm out, sounding more angry than he was when he came inside.

She releases the breath she’s been holding. She’ll most likely have to stay where she’s hiding until the next morning because if she doesn’t, he’ll find her, but that’s a better option than being found, no matter how uncomfortable it is in the tiny space. Her left wrist aches from where she’s been grabbed before she ran, but Soyoung tells herself to ignore.

When the house falls under complete silence again, all the fear and terror and pain seems to spill. She tries to muffle her sobs into her sleeves, though they come out pathetically loud. Soyoung spends the rest of the night there, huddled inside her closet, too scared to fall asleep yet so exhausted that she can’t help it when she finally drifts off.

***

The daycare isn’t small, which Soyoung supposes makes sense because the fact that they’re teaching four hours means that there’s more than one class to teach. She heads inside hesitantly, patting her hair down in the reflective doors before stopping at the reception desk. The place is even fancier on the inside, nicely air conditioned too, and she wonders how exactly Baekhyun landed himself and her a job in such a place.

“Hi,” she greets nervously. “I’m… here to teach music.”

The lady glances up. She looks like she’s somewhere in her late thirties to early forties with a cheerful smile and glasses that seem to magnify her eyes. “Your name?” she asks.

“Hwa Soyoung.”

She pulls something from her desk—it’s the file she had given to Baekhyun before—lowers her glasses and scans it. After fifteen seconds, she glances up at Soyoung, back at her paper, and then picks up something from the side near the pen stand. “Your nametag, dear,” she says as she hands the pin to her. “The staff room is down the hallway right across from us and room 207 on the right. The young man that’s teaching with you… Baekhyun? He’s already there.”

It’s been a week since Soyoung’s seen him, which is the longest she’s gone in the past two months. She pulls her bag up more, thanks the woman, and heads down in the direction with her nametag in hand.

She pauses in front of room 207. The door is a dark mahogany, with the words staff room written under it on a piece of paper taped there, and Soyoung hesitates. After all of Seulgi’s not-so-subtle teasing, she’s not too sure how to greet Baekhyun. It’s stupid, really, because there’s nothing different and she knows that she should treat him just how she normally does, but for some reason, it feels odd.

Just as she attempts to decide whether or not to open the door, it swings open.

Baekhyun skids to a stop the moment he sees her. Soyoung looks up at him in surprise—his eyes are wide, like he’s not expecting her yet, and then he straightens and clears his throat.

“Hi,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “We start in forty five minutes, and I have the lesson plan here if you’d like to go through it. It’s nothing fancy, honestly.”

It’s odd seeing Baekhyun in clothes that aren’t as casual—he has a crisp white button up that’s tucked in black pants with matching shoes, though his hair is still normal and his bangs are a little bit too long. Her first thought is that he looks really good—it’s not on purpose, but it’s the first thing that comes to mind, really, that he’s even more attractive dressed like that—and then Soyoung realizes just what she’s thinking. She can feel her face turn red as she turns to look at her feet instead.

There’s a pause. “Are you okay?” he asks tentatively.

She glances up automatically for that. “Pardon?”

Baekhyun frowns, before he scans her up and down. Then, he gives another lopsided smile before pushing the door wider. “You look…different,” he says.

Soyoung tugs at her blouse uncomfortably. “You do too.”

“You look pretty,” he corrects, and just as she thinks her face couldn’t turn redder, it does. “Come inside.”

They remain in the same, awkward silence as Baekhyun flips through his book. The staff room is nice, just like everything else in the daycare—there’s a circle of couches and a tea table in the middle, and so far, they’re the only ones there. Soyoung takes a seat on the couch next to Baekhyun, peering at the book he has in hand. The lesson plans aren’t hard at all—Baekhyun’s right that not much preparation needs to be done—and then all of a sudden, he turns back so he’s looking at her. “My friend’s going to be teaching with us on Wednesdays and Fridays,” he tells her. “I was thinking… for practice, do you want to drop by at where I’m staying to practice there? We could go after teaching because it’s not too far away from here, unless there’s somewhere else you’d like to meet up.”

“I don’t know anywhere else with a piano,” she replies. “I guess… that works. I don’t have my violin today, though.”

“That’s fine.” He smiles at her. “You do look nice, though. I’m not joking.”

So do you, she thinks, but she doesn’t say it because Soyoung’s way too embarrassed to say a thing. “Thanks,” she mumbles, face burning, and they spend the rest of the time studying the class guide.

***

“I’m tired,” Baekhyun says as he leans back. “I don’t want to practice today.”

“I don’t have my violin anyway,” Soyoung says as she follows him out of the daycare. “There’s not much to practice. We’ve got mostly everything down, and we can just do it on Wednesday—“

“Do you want to go somewhere instead, then?” His shirt sleeves are rolled up now to his elbows—it’s pretty warm outside with the sun out properly, and Soyoung’s thankful she changed up her outfit because she’d really be dying of heat if she didn’t—and once again, she tries to (unsuccessfully) ignore the fact that he looks really good—and then he gives her yet another smile and she thinks that she can’t handle even just one more. “Want to grab ice cream? I know a good shop nearby and it’s pretty hot today. Celebrate one successful day of work.”

“Ice cream?” The thought sounds nice. She blinks at him. “But I’m paying this time, because you bought me coffee last time.”

Baekhyun laughs at her. “All right, whatever you want.”

She follows him as they turn down two streets, and then they’re inside the shop and Soyoung’s peeking at the flavors and trying to decide on what to choose. It goes from the usual—strawberry, chocolate, and vanilla—to more unique flavors—there’s matcha, blueberry cheesecake, Tiramisu. Baekhyun decides a couple minutes later with mango and a waffle cone. Soyoung gets two scoops in a bowl, and then they’re sitting at the side and Baekhyun’s trying to away his ice cream before it all drips down his cone.

“What do you think of the kids?” he asks as he pauses for three seconds before going back to trying to save his ice cream. “They’re cute, aren’t they?”

Soyoung stabs her spoon through the middle of the ice cream so it comes out with two flavors. “They are cute,” she admits. “Some of them are really energetic, though. And they’re really off key when they sing.”

“That’s cute,” Baekhyun argues. “They’re trying and they’re super enthusiastic about it.”

Soyoung studies him. It’s so nice like this, she realizes—just her and Baekhyun sitting there, a companionable kind of quiet with a slight breeze. He looks so at peace too, and somehow, that’s enough to settle her down too. If everything can be this perfect forever, Soyoung thinks, then I really can’t ask for more.

“You know,” Baekhyun starts, and she glances back up at him. He’s finished enough of his ice cream so that it’s not melting down the cone, though he seems to have completely forgotten about that and his eyes are strangely serious when he meets hers. It’s sudden, and Soyoung has no idea what he’s going to say. She meets his eyes for a second, then turns back to her ice cream. “Hwa Soyoung,” he tries again.

She swallows. “Yeah?”

He hesitates, fingers tightening around his cone. He meets her gaze for a couple seconds more, and then takes a huge, loud bite from his cone. “Never mind,” he says around his mouthful of ice cream. “I forgot.”

Even she can tell that lie, but Soyoung really can’t even say anything about because she does the same thing a lot of the time. They both finish their remaining ice cream in silence, and then Baekhyun’s telling her he’ll see her again on Wednesday before she runs for the bus home.

***

Wednesday isn’t bad either. Soyoung spends most of her time trying to memorize at least half of the kids’ names, and Baekhyun also introduces her to his friend—Park Chanyeol, who’s also the friend whose house he’s staying at for the summer. Chanyeol’s tall and he towers over both her and Baekhyun by a significant amount, and his personality reminds her a bit of Seungwan because he always seems to be cheery, though he is relatively louder. He bids her an enthusiastic goodbye when they’ve finished the lesson on Wednesday, and then waltzes off to the parking lot as Soyoung follows Baekhyun.

“Don’t mind him,” he tells her. “He’s always like that.”

She adjusts her violin case and tries to balance her backpack. “He reminds me a little of the girl Seulgi and I are sharing the apartment with.”

“I don’t think she’s that insufferable,” Baekhyun grumbles. “Chanyeol’s so loud I can’t handle him most of the time. He always hogs the piano so that I can’t practice.”

The rest of the walk is spent in mostly silence until they approach the apartment complex Baekhyun’s living in. The place is fancy on the inside, a lot cooler with the air conditioner, and he leads her to the elevator as Soyoung takes in the interior. The ceilings in the first floor are high, and it reminds her a bit of a hotel instead of an apartment.

Baekhyun notices her staring. “Chanyeol’s rich,” he says drily.

Soyoung turned another full circle around and then looked at Baekhyun. “It’s fancy,” she mumbles.

“Again, rich.” He steers her towards the direction of the elevator. “Let’s go.”

***

The inside of Chanyeol’s apartment is just as fancy as the outside, and Soyoung’s at a loss of where to go when she follows Baekhyun inside and sets her shoes aside. For a while, she stands there until he gestures for her to come in, and hesitantly, she shuffles inside. It’s still fairly large, though the living room is much messier and it feels more home-like. She’s been in her fair share of large homes—since her mother remarried, really—but the fact that Chanyeol himself has such a large place is a bit incomprehensible. She lingers a second more—it’s not the fact that it’s large and fancy that necessarily unnerves her—or maybe unnerve isn’t the right word—but Soyoung realizes then that it’s because she hasn’t been to someone else’s home for a long time. It’s just something that makes her wish that something that would’ve been casual to any other person could’ve happened more when she was younger—it’s not necessarily a bad thing, but the twinge of melancholy isn’t ignorable.

There’s a grand piano near the left corner, and she gapes at it. It seems so different from the old one they practice with in the music room.

“Your friend has a grand piano,” she manages, and it comes out somewhere between a question and a disbelieving statement.

“Rich,” Baekhyun says in a purposefully nasally voice.

Soyoung laughs, feeling a bit more at ease, though it dies in a couple of second later.

“Sit down.” He gestures at the couch, and then realizes that there’s a pile of clothing on it. “Uh… sorry, come into the kitchen instead.”

She follows him around the living room to where the kitchen is. It’s a lot tidier than the rest of the house, but Baekhyun tells her that it’s because neither he nor Chanyeol can really cook, so they don’t really use the kitchen that much. She sits down at the table as Baekhyun rummages through the fridge. “What do you want?” he asks. “There’s soy milk, orange juice, mango juice… and… I think this was the smoothie we tried to make yesterday, but I don’t really think you can drink that.”

“Is there water?”

“No, Soyoung, there isn’t.” He shuts the fridge and gives her a large grin. “Why are you looking at me like that? Ice?”

“…Yes please.”

She watches as Baekhyun flips through a cupboard for a glass, then he goes on tiptoes when he looks in the next one. It’s not as hot as it was on Monday, but Baekhyun’s ed the top three buttons of his blouse—it’s a blue one this time—and for some reason, her mind decides to notice that first. His bangs are a little bit messy, and Soyoung really wants to pat it down so that it’s orderly again.

It’s too late when she finally realizes that she’s staring at him because at that point, Baekhyun’s looking back at her, eyes wide, and she makes the stupid decision of looking away as quickly as possible so that it’s even more obvious. Face burning, Soyoung glares at her hands, but he’s obviously caught her and she can’t think of anything to say.

Baekhyun clears his throat when he approaches her. “Here,” he mumbles as he slides the glass over to her.

He waits patiently as Soyoung sips on the water slowly. “I don’t have a music stand anywhere for you to use,” he says. “We can probably put it up on the piano, but I think you have it memorized by now, right?”

She nods again, finishes up the rest of her water, and follows Baekhyun back into the living room.

He picks up a stack of books from underneath the piano bench. “Chanyeol has so much stuff,” he mutters as he flips through the papers. “He was trying to play my music and now it’s all mixed up and I don’t know where my sheets are.”

“Can you play something else?” Soyoung peers down at the books. One of them reads something about Beethoven and his five best piano pieces, and another is Chopin. “I’ve never really heard you play.”

He glances towards her like he’s surprised by the request. “Do you want me to?”

“That’ll be nice,” Soyoung admits quietly. It feels weird requesting something like that out of the blue, but music is a calming factor and she often dismisses how good Baekhyun is at the piano simply because how much she’s practiced with him and because he plays the same piece every single time. Not just that, though—there’s something about watching Baekhyun play that’s strangely mesmerizing.

He holds up a book. “Mozart?” he asks. “Beethoven? Chopin? Stravinsky?”

Soyoung studies all four books. “Beethoven,” she finally decides.

“Classic.” He gives a grin.

“All of them are classic, Baekhyun.”

He ignores the comment and opens the book. “Sit down, then.”

“Where?”

“Uh…” Baekhyun scans the room once, and then shrugs. “Just take the side of the piano bench. It fits, like, three people anyway. The rest of the living room is too messy.”

“But you’re…”

“That’s fine.” He dismisses it with a shrug, and Soyoung can’t say anything more that won’t give herself away, so hesitantly, she takes the very left corner of the bench as Baekhyun slides to sit down next to her as he opens the music sheet in front of him and sets it down. Pathetique, it reads, and Soyoung recognizes the song—she’s mostly heard the second and third movement. “I haven’t played this in a while,” he murmured, half to himself. “I’m probably going to be rusty.”

That’s okay, Soyoung wants to say, but her voice isn’t working. He’s sitting so close—shoulders bumping hers, and she doesn’t know how he’s going to even reach for lower notes without her interference—but even with the closer-than-normal proximity, it doesn’t feel uncomfortable. At least it’s not the sort that makes her nervous, though when she thinks about it again, she also is nervous. Her heart is pounding unnaturally quick, and even as he plays the first couple bars of the song, she can’t concentrate on the music.

It takes a page into the piece for Soyoung to force herself to focus on what’s being played and not who is playing, but even then, she finds herself watching Baekhyun instead, entranced by both what he’s playing and the person who’s playing it. His fingers flow across the keys like it’s the easiest thing in the world, so fast that Soyoung can’t even tell where they are until he’s moving onto a different chord.

Baekhyun pauses briefly to turn the pages, but apart from that, he keeps playing. Somewhere into the second movement, he forgets to turn the page, but then continues on the rest easily, completely from memory.

Soyoung listens silently until he’s finally reached the end. The last chord almost resonates seconds after he takes his hands off the keys, followed complete quietude as Baekhyun looks down at the piano, like the thought that he’s finished just hits him. Then he turns to look at Soyoung, and she’s not responding enough to even look away.

“That was…” She trails off. Beautiful, really, and there’s nothing else that comes to mind to describe it, but somehow, the word doesn’t come out. Beautiful, Soyoung thinks again. There’s something that magical about music that she finds awes her every time—when played well, there’s something beautiful and healing about it. It’s as if—even for a moment—she can exist with it and be as beautiful and carefree and as pure as it is.

The thought jars her. She stands up so quickly that the bench is pushed backwards a bit, and Baekhyun blinks in surprise. “I’m sorry,” she says yet again, and she doesn’t know if the word means anything at that point. “Let’s practice.”

Baekhyun doesn’t move. His eyes are still fixed on her, and it feels like he’s trying to dig through, past the I’m sorry’s, but the worst part is that Soyoung doesn’t know what he’s looking for.

“Soyoung,” he says finally. “I was… going to say this on Monday, but I wanted to apologize for how I treated you when I just met you.”

It’s probably the thing she least expected to hear from him. “Pardon?” she manages.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats. “I know I made you uncomfortable when I first met you—and I knew I was making you uncomfortable and I was purposely aiming for that—but… I know—I mean, I hope that we’re past that—but I’ve never really apologized for that and it definitely warrants an apology.”

She gulps. “Why are you apologizing to me now? We’re… past that. It doesn’t matter.”

He stands up to his full height. He’s a fair amount taller than she is, and there’s something sincere about the expression in his eyes that puts a part of her deep, deep down at ease already even though the rest is still nervous for what he’s going to say. “I told myself that I wasn’t going to say this until I got the guts to apologize,” he said, half to himself, and then gave a slightly embarrassed laugh.

“Say what?” she interrupts before he can say anything else.

His eyes crinkle into crescent moons. Soyoung’s rooted to the spot, and she’s too frozen to move when Baekhyun presses both of his hands on her shoulders gently. “I like you,” he says. “I don’t need a confirmation from you right now, but… well, admittedly, one would be nice. Just a yes or a no. Whenever you’re ready.”

He steps back then, leaving a trail of warmth from where his hands used to be. Soyoung’s still frozen, unable to say or do anything as Baekhyun sits back down on his piano bench. He reaches for his sheet music, pauses like he’s remembered something, and looks back towards her. “And in case you’re wondering,” he says, so seriously that Soyoung would’ve laughed in other situation, “I’m not… I’m not trying to play with you, I genuinely really like you and it would be great—“ He clamps his mouth shut. “Let’s just practice for today.”

***

It’s probably the worst practice they’ve ever had, and Soyoung’s more uncoordinated than ever when she buses back home. When she gets back, Seulgi and Seungwan are gone, and she stands in front of the sink and washes her face for a solid five minutes before deciding that it’s too surreal to be a dream.

Still, it’s not computing. I was practicing at Byun Baekhyun’s house. Byun Baekhyun played a piece. Byun Baekhyun told me he liked me. We went back to practicing. The sequence doesn’t quite make sense in her head, and the name Byun Baekhyun in itself doesn’t seem to fit in all of that. Isn’t Byun Baekhyun the player from a year above who she knows of and doesn’t speak to? How has that Byun Baekhyun turned into this one in the span of three and a half months?

Soyoung shakes her head one more time before deciding that it’s too impossible of a thing to run through her head at the moment, especially by herself. After a moment of hesitance, she heads towards the living room and dials her mother’s phone number.

No one picks up until three rings later, and even then, her mother’s voice is quiet. “Soyoung?” she asks. “Are you okay? Why are you calling?”

That, she realizes, and she never has before—is sad. The fact that she’s calling is something hard to believe—she should be used to it, but at the same time, it’s another reminder of how distant they’ve gotten. “I’m fine,” she reassures. “Just… I was wondering…”

“Is it about your father? It’s fine, he hasn’t even been home that much lately.”

“Not him, but…”

There’s a soft laugh on the other side, and it sounds fond. “Spill it, honey,” she urges, and there’s something about her voice that holds that motherly aspect that it seems to have lacked so many times that makes close up.

“Hypothetically speaking,” Soyoung begins, “if someone you like confessed to you, what would you do?”

“In this hypothetical situation, do I like this person?”

That’s a question she hasn’t really considered properly. Do I like him? She’s spent so much of her time in the past month around Baekhyun, doing stuff with Baekhyun from practicing to studying, and she’s never quite thought of it that way. Maybe she’s scared. It’s a natural instinct at this point, after all, to be terrified of the unknown and things she isn’t sure about, to avoid all of that because it’s safer that way. Results in less pain. Results in less wounds to heal, less things to try to forget.

“You don’t know,” she tells her mom.

“Well, I wouldn’t think too much to it,” her mother replies. “If I like them too and if there’s nothing hindering me, I don’t see why I wouldn’t tell them I return those feelings. The same goes for the opposite.”

If there’s nothing hindering me. That makes her wonder, then. She can always think of a reason or an excuse to bail, a hindrance if she wants to make up one, but the other answer is a simple yes. And while it’s an option she would’ve laughed at three and a half months ago, there’s a small twinge of hope amidst the confusion of fear and shame and all the negative emotions crowding her that Soyoung’s never managed to get rid of.

“Thanks,” she manages to her phone.

***

Seeing Baekhyun again on Friday is painfully normal. He acts like how he usually does, and they go through the lesson without much exchange of words (Soyoung’s extremely out of it, and apparently it’s to the point where one kid notices because he asks her if she’s sick). By the time they’re drawing to a close, she’s too distracted to do much and part of her is wondering if what happened at Chanyeol’s house on Wednesday was just some stupidly vivid dream she dreamt. It’s only when she’s gathering her bag in the staffroom, hyperaware of Baekhyn’s presence, that he approaches her slowly again. “Soyoung,” he starts, and she all but throws her bag into his arms.

“I’m going to the washroom,” Soyoung yells before she bolts.

It’s only a momentary escape, because there’s nothing she can do as she stands in front of the mirror, trying to catch her breath and sort out her thoughts. For a couple of seconds, Soyoung goes with staring at the mirror, before she attempts to calm herself.

Just say it, she thinks, but it’s most likely the least helpful thing ever. He’s just Byun Baekhyun, I’m used to Byun Baekhyun—

She steels her back and walks out of the washroom before she can lose the rest of her courage to do it. Baekhyun’s still waiting in the staffroom when she gets back, holding her backpack, which he hands back when she enters, a questioning look on his face. “Are you okay?” he finally asks tentatively. “Your face is a bit red.”

“Yes,” Soyoung blurts, and then she realizes and claps her hands over . “I mean, yes—yeah, they’re red, it’s really warm in here—“

He gives her a strange look. “And by the way, do you—“

“Yes,” she repeats, and Soyoung’s positively sure she wants to throw herself off a cliff at that moment. “I also…” she drifts off, the rest of the sentence completely lost, but it’s easy enough for Baekhyun to understand what she’s trying to say. Like usual, his eyes light up, and Soyoung wants to melt into the floor. She’s never done anything more embarrassing in her life.

“That means…” Baekhyun’s eyes are sparkling. “Then if I ask you to be my girlfriend, is that also a yes?”

***

They end up at the ice cream parlor yet again on his insistence. She still can’t quite wrap her mind around what’s happening, and especially with how overly-enthusiastic Baekhyun is, she can’t catch up. It’s not necessarily a bad feeling, though, because as she peers at the flavors for the second time that week with Baekhyun insisting on holding her hand, she thinks that she can remain like that forever and be content, even if whatever’s going on still isn’t making sense.

Baekhyun’s all questions when they sit down. Soyoung tries to preoccupy herself as best as she can with her ice cream, but that can only do so much and she’s not saved from the onslaught of questions.

Baekhyun’s not even trying to save his ice cream this time. “Are you free on Sunday?” is his first question.

Soyoung blinks. “Yeah.”

“We should go somewhere.” He takes a bite from his cone. “By the way, when did you start liking me?”

Her face goes bright red. “I don’t know.”

“What do you like about me?”

That, Soyoung can answer, but she’s too embarrassed to do so. She shakes her head and concentrates on scooping two flavors onto her spoon each time. Baekhyun continues for a little while before finally realizing that it’s futile, though he looks far too content to even act exasperated as he props his chin on his hand. “I can’t believe this is happening,” he murmurs.

Soyoung peeks up at him. “Why me?” she asks.

Baekhyun frowns. “What do you mean?”

“What do you even like about me? You’ve...” She can’t find a proper way to phrase it—you’ve dated so many people in the past that are probably prettier than me, more outgoing, more fashionable, all of that—and now why me? I’m… The things that come to mind are automatic. I’m already tainted, I’ll never be clean anymore. She wonders about herself, too—Baekhyun’s the exact opposite of her, yet at the same time, there’s just something about him that brings an indescribable sort of peace to her that she really yearns for, and there’s just something about him that words fail to describe. Maybe it’s the fact that with him, she can almost forget all of those things.

“I know I went through a lot of… other people before you.” He shifts, and then winces. “Sorry, that sounds bad. I told you before, right? It was just a stupid way of coping and trying to take my mind off my mother’s death and I just abused the freedom I got. There was popularity and it was fun for a short while of time, but at the end of the day, it made me feel worse. I never really genuinely liked the four people I tried going out with. It was the attention that I thought I wanted, but it really wasn’t that either because after the temporary thrill it was empty afterwards.”

“Why me, though?”

“You annoyed me.” He poked her arm lightly, and Soyoung drew back, frowning. “People knew about you, but they didn’t know you. You obviously hated attention, but you were... one time, I asked you if college was boring. You didn’t go to parties, you didn’t show up to student events, and you just didn’t do anything. And yet you seemed fine with that, and that really bothered me for some reason. But because of that, there’s also something really sincere about you. College is fun, but just sometimes the amount of fakeness and backstabbing that goes on when you have a lot of friends and just the lack of someone sincere to confide in really takes a toll. And once I got over that annoyance, I guess I was also curious—“ He breaks off. “Sorry, I’m rambling.”

“It’s fine.” Soyoung blinks at him. “I didn’t know you felt that way.”

“I know you didn’t like me at first too.” He gives a slightly awkward laugh before running his fingers through his hair. “I was an .”

“Well…”

He jerks his chin at her ice cream. “Eat your ice cream before it melts.”

***

Nothing’s too different, which is the one part that both relieves her and confuses her. Baekhyun treats her the same, and while sometimes he holds her hands when they’re walking, it’s literally the only thing he does. She doesn’t get any less used to it, anyway, though sometimes, Chanyeol laughs at them in class between when they’re teaching.

She gets used to it bit by bit, though. Soyoung’s not sure why, but he keeps a respectable distance like he knows that she’s not extremely comfortable with physical contact, and that she appreciates, even though part of her is a bit scared that he’ll find out.

Seulgi catches on exactly two weeks after they start dating, and she barrels into the apartment on a Friday afternoon. Soyoung’s unpacking her backpack from teaching when the door to her room is thrown open and Seulgi rushes up to her and all put jumps onto her bed.

“You’re dating him,” she exclaims breathlessly. “Oh my god, you guys are actually dating—why haven’t you told me earlier?”

Soyoung sets down one of her books slowly. “I… don’t know?” she tries.

“I can’t believe this.” She flops over on the bed and stares at the ceiling. “Do you remember when I first asked you what you thought of Baekhyun? The only thing you could say was talkative and I thought you hated him and now look what happened.” She reaches over and pats her on the back. “Congratulations. You two look cute together. I knew something was up when he offered to carry your bags for you when you were moving out of your dorm.”

“Seulgi,” she groans, face flushing, though she’s beginning to laugh too.

“So, what’s he like?”

Soyoung hesitates for a little while. Then, she gives Seulgi another grin before standing up. “Talkative,” she replies.

***

Another week rushes by. They’re approaching the last week of July, and the weather has gotten so insufferably hot that even what Soyoung’s wearing at the moment doesn’t suffice. She considers getting dresses, but all the ones she’s seen people wear so far are far too revealing, especially around the shoulder area—they’re either strapless or are too low—so she sticks with fighting the heat in what she normally wears.

They’re existing the last class of the week when Baekhyun pulls her to the side. “We should go somewhere,” he says, completely out of the blue, and Soyoung stares up at him and frowns.

“Where?” she finally asks tentatively.

“It’s too hot to stay in Seoul,” he continues. “It’s only one thirty right now. We can go to the beach.”

“A beach,” she echoes. “How planned was this?”

“Uh…” He shuffles his feet on the ground. “I checked the weather this morning and it turned out to be really hot. Chanyeol says he’s just going to go home and sleep because I think he got a grand total of two and a half hours last night, so I was like, why don’t I just borrow his car for the day because it’ll be nice to take a break since we’re pretty set with the duet and just do something apart from the usual?”

Soyoung’s never been to the beach. At least she doesn’t think she has—not that she can remember, anyways, though the thought does, admittedly, sound nice. She wanted to for the longest time, but just like a lot of other things, it became an impossible wish that she left behind when it was deemed never going to happen. Finally, she tells him, “I don’t know how to swim.”

“You don’t have to,” he replies immediately. “I went with my friends last year for a day, and it’s pretty relaxing just to be there. If you’re not hot in that, you can just wear that over and we can leave right now. It takes around… forty five minutes to drive there?”

She hesitates. It sounds nice, of course—time with just Baekhyun going somewhere she’s always wanted to go, but there’s always that stupid fear that lingers every single time. It’s more muted that before, and she’s grateful for that, but the thought that it’s never quite gone is a bit disconcerting too. What if he finds out? What will he say if he knows? Would what he thinks of me change?

“We can… go,” Soyoung finally decides before she can chicken out of it. “Around what time will we be getting back at, then?”

***

She falls asleep on the ride there. Baekhyun’s driving is a lot more decent than she expected it to be and he keeps his keeps his grip on the wheel extremely steady, and there’s mostly no traffic along the way and Soyoung drifts off with her head against the window. Baekhyun shakes her awake when they finally get there, and groggily, she sits up and tries to gather her bearings.

“We’re here,” he murmurs, then a hand lands on her forehead and brushes away her bangs for her. Soyoung’s wide awake immediately, stiffening under his touch before forcing herself to relax.

Outside is still sunny—there’s one singular cloud in sight and it’s barely a wisp—though when she glances at the side mirror, Soyoung can see the stretch of beach and the blue-green of the sea in the background. She sits up immediately. “We’re here,” she repeats after Baekhyun, then snaps shut and shakes her head. She doesn’t even hear his next sentence when she’s opened the car door and scrambles outside.

The air is a lot fresher than it is in Seoul—cleaner, and with the breeze there’s the scent of the sea carried with it. It’s definitely still hot, but there’s something refreshing about being at the seaside that makes it feel a lot better. The car door on the other side opens and Baekhyun steps out, squinting in the sun, and then he shuts it and makes his way around.

“Have you never been to the beach?” he asks.

Soyoung stares at the sea. It’s so wide—she can’t see an end to it as it reaches the horizon—and mutely, she shakes her head at Baekhyun. “I’ve never seen the sea.”

“You’ve never seen the sea,” Baekhyun repeats in disbelief, and then he shakes his head. “Wait here. I’m going to change in the car because I can’t wear dress pants in the sand.”

Exactly four minutes later they’re walking towards the beach, with Baekhyun in a much more casual pair of shorts and a t-shirt. Soyoung rolls up her pants as far as they can go, which is around her knees, and she figures she’ll probably just have to do with that because anything else feels too short and it refuses to go further anyway.

The beach is relatively crowded, though it’s not too bad. People have pitched sun umbrellas and there’s a girl around their age who looks like she’s completely fallen asleep on her beach towel. Soyoung tries to walk across the sand with her sneakers on, though it proves virtually impossible and a bit grudgingly, she takes them off so she’s walking across the sand barefoot like Baekhyun is.

It’s warm to the touch, almost hot, but it’s a nice feeling. They walk in silence for a little while as she stares at the sea. The sound of the waves pounding against the sand one after another is soothing and rhythmic, sunlight gleaming off the water. It’s cut through with the noise of people shouting—there’s a group of children who are basically tackling each other in the water—and Soyoung spends the next few minutes wishing she’d been to the beach sooner. There’s regret, too, watching them laugh so easily in the water—the most she can do is walk near the water. All those scars and bruises—before Soyoung knows it, she’s gnawing on her lip hard, blinking rapidly as she stares at the water. It should be a happy scene, but all she can feel is bitter, and then angry at herself for feeling that way. I wasn’t like this before. She kicks at the sand. I was content, I was fine with everything, but now that I have more, why do I keep on wanting even more?

“Soyoung,” Baekhyun says, voice breaking through her thoughts. Her head snaps upwards and she tries to shake it off, though she must’ve still been frowning because Baekhyun reaches out with his index finger and thumb and pinches her cheek. “Stop that,” he chastises. “Smile. The only time you’re allowed to frown is if you’re squinting because the sun is too bright.”

That’s enough to make her laugh. She gives him a mock wince, and Baekhyun snorts before grabbing one of her hands. “The sand’s nice, but you can’t stay there all the time,” he says. “I know you can’t go that deep into the water, but we’re not leaving this place until you’ve at least touched the ocean.”

Soyoung relents and lets him drag her towards the waves. They lap steadily, rising and falling and then racing upwards over wet sand before receding slowly. Another wave takes its place not long after it’s gone.

She stares at the water for a couple of seconds. “Is it cold?” she asks Baekhyun.

“It’s probably not that bad,” Baekhyun replies. He steps forward so that he’s standing just in reach of the waves. “I’ll throw you into the water if you don’t move,” he threatens.

Soyoung takes a hesitant step forward. The wet sand is lot cooler, and then water’s washing over her toes and she nearly jumps because of the difference in temperature.

Baekhyun laughs at her expression. “It’s not that bad, is it?” he asks. He wades in a bit deeper, so the water’s up to mid-calf. “It’s actually pretty nice because it’s so hot today.”

Soyoung follows, though she stops when the waves are rising up to her ankles. She stops there, because getting her pant legs wet doesn’t sound fun, but before she can back up again, Baekhyun wraps a hand around her wrist and pulls her towards him, where the water is deeper.

She shrieks in surprise, though it’s no use because just as she stumbles forward, a wave rises and crashes down. The water rises rapidly up to her knees, and Soyoung can feel it soak through her jeans, cold, and the cloth sticks to her skin uncomfortably. She stands there for a second, shocked as the water draws back, replaced by another wave that’s equally high, and then she gathers her senses and gapes at Baekhyun. “I don’t have a change of pants,” she protests stupidly.

He shrugs, grinning. “I don’t either—hey!”

Soyoung scrambles back after she’s kicked the water at him, splashing through the waves. Baekhyun stares at her with wide eyes for a couple of seconds, and then he shakes his head, beginning to laugh.

The rest of the afternoon is spent in water-fights and running from the waves. Most of Soyoung’s clothing is wet by the end of the day, but she finds herself not caring either.

***

“You’re not prepared,” she says.

“I have a change of clothes,” he replies. He has on the same outfit from the daycare (she shoved him too hard into the water and he ended up completely soaked) again, and they managed to buy a towel from a shop nearby and she huddles under it, shivering. The sun’s beginning to go down and it’s a lot colder, and they hurry towards the car.

It’s the heat that Baekhyun turns on this time. They sit in the car for a little while, watching as the sun dips towards the horizon, and Soyoung pauses in between drying her hair with the end of the towel.

“Thanks,” she tells him.

He blinks. “Pardon?”

“Thanks,” she repeats, and it’s the full truth. “I had a lot of fun today.”

His eyes brighten. “I’m glad you did,” he says so quickly with so little hesitation that she doesn’t doubt for a moment that he means it. “We can go again sometime when it’s this hot again, but you should probably bring a change of clothes.”

“Or you can buy me another towel.”

He wrinkles his nose at that, but doesn’t say anything else. For a while, they sit still in the car—the fact that he’s not rushing to get back brings a sort of serenity that Soyoung really likes. The sun has almost disappeared when she sees Baekhyun turn towards her in her peripheral vision.

For some reason, Soyoung can’t bring herself to look towards him. She keeps her eyes fixed on the red shine of the sun on the sea, painfully aware of the fact that he’s looking at her, until he finally murmurs, “Soyoung.”

She can’t look away anymore. “Yeah?”

He doesn’t reply for the longest time, eyes fixed on hers. Soyoung can’t break his gaze for some reason—maybe there’s something his expression holds that makes it impossible for her to look away. The longer she looks, the more she wonders. With the shadows, his face is all angles, and he looks a lot older too, maybe more mature. It feels so surreal she’s sitting there with him and she can’t help wonder whether or not it’s actually real. The whole summer has felt like a dream simply because it’s been so perfect, and such perfection doesn’t last in reality.

Baekhyun moves first. He reaches towards her, lifting her chin slightly with one hand, touch so delicate that Soyoung can barely feel it. She freezes then, and he pauses. The hesitation is something she doesn’t regularly associate with Byun Baekhyun because he rarely falters, always goes forward with what he’s going to do, and for some reason, the fact that he stops there is enough reassurance. The sunset turns into a blur of red and gold in her peripheral before she shuts her eyes.

And then he’s kissing her, hand moving to cup her cheek instead, the other steadying her back. It’s still delicate, gentle, and very, very careful, though there’s something so sweet about the gesture that Soyoung doesn’t mind at all. She relaxes into his grip, content despite the fact that she was shivering from cold a moment ago, and she hopes this time—hopes that everything will remain like that because maybe, just maybe, things can be perfect without being ruined.

***

The embarrassment kicks in when she’s bidding goodbye and running for the apartment, still with the towel wrapped around her because Soyoung still feels cold. It’s ridiculous, really, but part of her is expecting Seulgi to find out even though it’s completely impossible for her to. She can almost hear Seulgi say, Byun Baekhyun kissed you? in the voice she uses when she’s half surprised half triumphant over something that’s happened that she predicted.

Surprisingly, the apartment is empty when she gets back. Soyoung has to flick all the lights on before she goes into the kitchen, still in the towel and wet clothing.

There’s food on the table along with a note. Heat this up if it’s cold when you’re back, it says in Seulgi’s neat handwriting. Seungwan and I are going out tonight for karaoke and you weren’t picking up, so we went without you.

The fact that they considered both going with her and left her food is touching. Soyoung puts it in the microwave before going into her room and looking for something more comfortable to wear.

The adrenaline from the day still hasn’t worn off when she runs back into the kitchen to get her dinner. She feels so giddy that she can’t sit still, and a moment later, Soyoung remembers that she left her phone at home and she goes to retrieve it from her bedroom.

On the top of the notification list, there’s a bunch of texts from Baekhyun. Pictures, the top one reads, and the rest are the pictures he took during the day. Most of them are either of her that he took when she hadn’t noticed or they’re of the sunset. There's even one of her hitting his hand away. She scrolls down more.

Three missed calls from Kang Seulgi. One missed call from Son Seungwan. Nine missed calls from Mom.

She freezes. Nine calls.

Her mother’s never been the person to call so much, and Soyoung knows—one call, and if she doesn't pick up, she’ll wait for a fair amount of time before trying again. It’s only been a couple hours since she’s been out, and the fact that she’s been called nine times means that there’s something that’s definitely off.

Fingers trembling, Soyoung dials back. The whole day suddenly seems much darker, and the dial tone has never felt so long as she waits for her mother to pick up. She can’t think of anything else that happened—Baekhyun, the beach—and the only thing that seems to be important is that there were nine missed calls and something’s terribly wrong.

She does pick up, eventually, after the fifth dial tone. “Soyoung?” she asks immediately.

Soyoung swallows. The fact that she picked up makes her feel a bit better, but there’s still something that’s wrong. “You called me nine times,” she manages. “Is there something… is he…”

“That.” There’s slightly nervous laughter on the other side, forced. “I didn’t mean to worry you, sweetheart, and it’s nothing urgent. It’s just—your stepfather has a business trip and I think he’s coming to Seoul for this one.”

Soyoung freezes. “He’s…”

“Don’t worry about it,” her mother cuts in quickly. “It’s only for four days, and it’s going to be at the very end of August, but I think he’s still a bit angry you didn’t come home for the summer. I told him a friend offered for you to stay at their place and there’s nothing he can do about that as long as he believes it, and… well, just a heads up.”

That’s in another five or so weeks. Soyoung feels so numb that she doesn’t know what to say.

“Soyoung?” her mom asks again. “Please don’t worry about it. He knows better than to try to find you, but I thought I’d just—” her voice quivers, and all of a sudden, Soyoung feels like an idiot for thinking everything would remain so simple and ideal. Even if she’s supposed to “not worry about it”, that’s impossible. She’s fine here—doing what she likes, free from the yelling and hitting and terror of never being able to be safe, but her mother’s still at home, probably suffering and at the same time pretending she’s fine. “—I thought I should tell you. How are you doing at the daycare? Do the kids listen to you?”

They lapse into smalltalk that Soyoung can barely keep up with. She’s too distracted, worries, for the first time in a long time, beginning to feel overwhelming.

It’s a couple minutes later when her mother seems to realize that she won’t be getting anything out of Soyoung. She gives a quiet apology and an equally meek goodnight, and then it’s silent once again.

***

Soyoung can’t sleep.

The clock at the bedside table reads that it’s already one thirty four. Seungwan and Seulgi came back an hour ago, and the apartment’s settled down and she’s pretty sure that they’ve both gone to bed. She lies awake, too jittery to sleep, thoughts a mess. It’s been so long since she’s felt such unrest, and the only thing it does is bring back more terrible memories and more fear. It’s not so much the fact that he’ll be coming to Seoul—that’s a bit scary, but he doesn’t know where she lives and it’s only for a total of four days, and she knows him well enough to be mostly sure that he won’t cause any trouble in somewhere so public.

But it’s still a reminder, nonetheless, that Soyoung’s doing better without. She can pretty much ignore it with Baekhyun because around him, she can almost pretend nothing’s wrong, but now, it doesn’t seem that easy anymore.

Maybe she’s being dramatic. She would’ve brushed it off before, steeled her back and pretended it was fine. I’m past crying, she’d tell herself, and then pretend it was true. I’m fine now. There’s no point shedding tears over something I need to forget.

Those end up being empty words. Soyoung does eventually fall asleep, emotionally spent from trying to battle back tears in vain because she still ends up crying, unable to help herself. She drifts off almost overwhelm under a thick cloud of doubt, fear, and most of all, shame.

***

Morning doesn’t make her feel any better. Soyoung has a headache when she wakes up so she tries to sleep more, squeezing her eyes shut as tight as possible as if it would force away all the emotions even though that’s just a stupid wish.

Seulgi knocks on her door when it’s nearing noon. “Soyoung?” she calls. “Are you okay?”

For some reason, the thought of someone being inside the room too terrifies her to no end. It’s so irrational, and Soyoung’s almost angry at herself for feeling that way. She was never that bad, even before, so why she being like this at all times when things are getting better?

“I think I’m sick,” she calls back at Seulgi, and she hopes that her voice doesn’t shake. “I’ll… it’s probably best if you don’t come inside.”

Seulgi hesitates. “Are you sure you don’t want anything? Water? Soup?”

“I’m fine.” That’s a lie. “I’ll just sleep for a while more.”

***

Somehow, she’s able to escape it until Sunday. Soyoung spends the rest of Saturday in her room. She tries to make herself look over her music—both her solo and the duet—but she can’t concentrate on anything and she ends up staring at it, none of it going through her head. By Sunday lunch, Seungwan decides rightfully so that something’s up and she barges inside with a glass of hot water and freshly made chicken noodle soup.

“You,” she declares. “Need to eat something. Even if you’re sick. Even if you throw it back up right after.”

Seulgi comes inside a moment later. “She’s right.”

Soyoung’s not sick, and the fact that they actually made her something for that specially just makes her feel worse. Everything makes her feel bad, and she hates it. But as much as she does, she can’t help it either. “I’m not very hungry—” she starts, and then Seungwan’s pulling her up by the wrist.

“You have to eat—” she begins.

Soyoung snatches her hand away so hard that she nearly knocks over the glass of water Seungwan’s holding in her other hand, drawing back under the covers. It takes her a full moment to realize what she’s done, and then the fact that both of them are staring at her with wide eyes. Seulgi looks surprised, and so does Seungwan, but a little hurt too.

A tense silence settles down. Soyoung can’t even bring herself to speak, and when she does, the sorry she croaks out is barely audible.

Seungwan straightens and sets the soup down on the table. “I’ll leave this here,” she says quietly. “Get better soon.”

***

Nothing’s going right, and she feels like an absolute idiot for it. It shouldn’t affect her, and the more Soyoung tells herself that, the more daunting it seems to be. She can’t even pinpoint why it’s getting so bad, and she’s a mess Monday morning as she hurries to prepare for busing to the daycare and the materials she has planned for the lesson. She ends up late to the bus stop, watching as it just leaves, and then just as she’s sure that it can’t get worse, it starts pouring out of the blue.

Soyoung arrives at the daycare drenched, exhausted, and on the verge of tears. She doesn’t want to take off her sweater because she’s only wearing a t-shirt underneath, and she’s pretty sure that that’s wet too. She doesn’t want to see Baekhyun in such a state either—she feels too vulnerable, too weighed down, and almost transparent. She doesn’t want him to see her, or the scars and what’s behind them, and from the way things are going, he might just if she has to face him.

Still, it’s too late to turn back. Soyoung trudges inside miserably, leaving a trail of wet footprints behind her. She’s going to the teacher lounge to put down her bag when footsteps sound behind her. Before she even has time to turn around, a pair of hands have landed on her shoulder and Baekhyun’s spinning her around.

Her first reaction is to shake him off, but his grip is firm and at the same time familiar. Soyoung forces herself to relax, though she can’t quite summon the courage to look at him. She stares at her hands.

“You’re—” he starts, and then he shakes his head. “Soyoung, how are you even…”

“It was raining.” She gives him a wince that doesn’t pass for a smile at all. “I got caught in the rain, and I didn’t have an umbrella and I missed the bus—”

“That’s not it. You’re crying.”

She brings a hand up to her eyes and wipes it, a bit surprised. He’s right—it’s not the rain, after all, and Soyoung immediately flinches away from him. She blinks rapidly, hoping that the tears will go away from doing so, but it just makes her eyes water more. “I’m fine,” she manages. It’s a lie she’s used to telling others and herself, but this time, it makes close up more so than before. “I’m late and class has already started—”

“We’re going to go back,” he interrupts firmly. “You look sick too. Yo