Operation-Make-Her-Love-Me was in action and Jeno woke up the next morning with a newfound plan to make you fall in love with him. What was the plan? To show up at your doorstep over and over again. The more you see him, the more you’d find it hard to ignore him.

“Hi,” he greeted you at 7 am in the morning and you blinked, stepping away from the door. What in the world was he doing there at 7 am on a Saturday?

“Lee Jeno,” you began. “You could be a stalker.”

“You wouldn’t let a stalker into your house,” he pointed out and you grumbled, telling him that you were still not yet done sleeping. He brought his hands in front of him and shoved flowers towards you. “Flowers.”

“Thanks, Jeno. But you do know, I’m hardly home.” You stopped yourself before you’d say something you’d regret. You should act grateful even though you thought flowers were a waste of money. “I mean, thank you.”

“That’s why they are fake,” he told you and you glanced down at the flowers. They, indeed, were. “Jaemin bought them for me.”

“Thank Jaemin for me.”

“But it was my idea.”

“But Jaemin bought them, didn’t he?” you asked, Jeno frowning at you. He did not expect the conversation to go this way. “Is there a reason why you’re here at 7 am in the morning, Jeno?”

“You keep bringing time up. You don’t sleep past 7 am, anyway,” he pointed out but you yawned, shaking your head.

“That was five years ago.” You slumped down on the couch. “I sleep ‘till ten now.”

Jeno realized a bunch of things that day. You changed, a lot. You were still you, thankfully. But you now wore colored clothes. Your wardrobe was filled with black before and now there was an array of colors. Blue, red, gray. Jungwoo, you told him. Jungwoo loved color. He must have rubbed off on you.

Your traits were a combination of someone else and yours all in one. You no longer drank the same brand of coffee. You liked tea more now. You loved staying in bed with nothing to do other than going out to do something productive.

You did not change, you told Jeno. You simply grew older.

Your conversations with Jeno were still the same, however, and he was still the same way he was with you years ago as he was now. He was older, a little bit more mature but he still followed you around the apartment like a lost dog.

Attention! He wanted attention. He wasn’t scared of asking for it.

It worked so many times before, it would work now.

You found something to keep him in one spot—the laundry. Sort it for me, Jeno. The reds and the blacks in one. Colored in one. Socks in another.

“What if I can’t find another pair?” Jeno asked, whipping one of your socks back and forth.

“It’s just there, Jeno. You’re not looking hard enough!”

“No, I swear. This is the only yellow—” Jeno’s voice stopped and you chuckled, knowing full well he must have found the other pair of the yellow sock. “Nevermind, found it. Where are you?”

“In my study.”

“Why are you there and I am here?” he asked and you sighed, telling him that you were sorting files for Monday. “Then why can’t I sort the laundry in the study?”

“I’ll be right out, Jeno.”

“When?”

Silence.

“Are you coming out now?”

Jesus Christ, Lee Jeno. You sighed, finishing everyone up to see that the laundry was sorted and he was staring expectantly at the door that you just walked through. You reached down to pinch his nose.

“Why are you so whiny?”

“Because that’s the only way for you to pay attention to me,” he told you and you told him that it wasn’t true. He held up a pair of socks in the air before throwing them at you. “I’m here begging for attention and you put me on the ground with mounds of laundry to sort through.”

You chuckled.

“And instead of telling me you love me like that, you keep telling me I’m cute. It’s been five years. I’m not cute.”

You both went out for a bit to buy a few things from the mart downstairs, Jeno beginning to tell you that he felt like you both picked up right off when it ended.

“At least now, I can tell you how much I love you in French,” he said and you laughed, staring at the cereal box you held in your hand. He wasn’t going to hold back, oh no. He was scared that if he stopped saying it, you’d forget and he’d lose you again. To someone else. To another Jungwoo.

It did not end there, Jeno showing up between days until you began to give him your apartment keycard. You'd enter the apartment to see him waiting for you, popcorn in hand and candles lit. On some days, you’d get a random text message from Jeno asking you what you wanted for dinner.

So subtle yet so strong. What mattered was that it did not feel unnatural. It felt like he was always meant to be there.

“I have to go to the dentist tomorrow,” Jeno said one day as you thumbed through the files. You looked up to see him by the door of your study that he insisted on keeping open because he wanted to see and hear you without having to open the door over and over again.

“Mhm?” you raised an eyebrow. “What time?”

“Ten,” he said and you nodded.

“Okay.”

He loved how he didn’t need to ask you to come with him, how he didn’t need to mention that he wanted you there. It was simply natural for you to call him at nine to tell him that you were awake and that he should pick you up so both of you could go to the dentist for his appointment.

“You know, Matthew is scared of me getting into a scandal,” he mentioned while waiting for the dentist to call his name. You froze. God, you were traumatized from your whole experience with Jay the Model. You wanted nothing to do with the entertainment industry the way Jay and Jeno did.

“We should stop going out,” you said to him and Jeno shook his head. He didn’t know, however, that his words would change the way you lived. After that, you simply refused to step a foot out of the apartment with Jeno.

“No!” you said, Jeno pulling on your leg.

“No one is going to see us!”

“No!”

Jeno sulked the whole day, telling you that he was tired of staying in your apartment. Who cared if he was dating you? He was allowed to date who he wanted!

But every fight with you ended with both of you sprawled on the bed, Jeno and you enjoying the silence together. On some days, you’d forget that you both were arguing like bulldogs and pitbulls just a moment prior.

“Did I tell you I love you today?” he’d ask every day and you would tell him if he did say it. If he didn’t, you’d tell him that he didn’t. “Oh. Okay. I love you.”

They say the more you tell someone you love them, it loses meaning. Not with Jeno. For every time he said it and for every day he mentioned how much he loved you, he showed it.

On this particular day, he had come with boxed spaghetti to make. Your orders.

You began to make spaghetti and he sat there, waiting for you as you placed the finished product on his plate. He chewed on his lip and you wondered what he was thinking about.  

“Promise me you’re done dating other people,” he said suddenly and you blinked, unable to keep the surprise flashing through your pupils. It was so sudden, a conversation that had nothing to lead to it. You saw him look up from his spaghetti, Jeno biting down on his lower lip.

“Jeno.”

“Years ago back in Belgium, you said you couldn’t and years ago I wasn’t mature enough.” Jeno twirled the fork with his hand. “And I agree about then but what about now?”

“Jeno,” you began, Jeno shaking his head. “Eat your food.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Jeno grumbled, putting down his fork. You stood up to go get cold water, your back against him when you heard the scraping of the chair. You felt his body against y