I realize that going straight to Irene’s place after our fight was probably the stupidest thing I could’ve done.

How many times has she given me the same advice? When happens, you take a step back and examine the situation. Admitting that you’re wrong is part of adulting, but clearly, I can’t adult for . On top of that, I may have just driven away who is possibly the love of my life.

Irene is not happy to see me when she pulls open her door. She looks tired. How is it possible that she looks like she’s lost ten pounds in the span of an hour?

Nonetheless, she lets me in.

“Hi,” I say.

She doesn’t acknowledge my little hi, proceeding to make her way into her kitchen to grab the pot of coffee.

“Are you okay?” I ask, trying to figure what was going on with her.

Irene shakes her head. “Kind of too late for that, don’t you think?”

I stare at her. “You’re mad at me.”

“I’m not mad at you,” she insists with a sigh.

“But—“ I tilt my head, scrutinizing her appearance. “Then, what’s wrong?”

Irene crosses her arms. “I’m tired, Yun. I’m so ing tired of this same dynamic. Quite frankly, you’ve been a ty friend these past weeks, okay?”

Goddamn it. Will people quit calling me out on my flaws? Normally, I could deal with it in person and break down later, but two in one day?

That was way past my limit.

She wasn’t lying at all. I have been a bad friend. I couldn’t remember the last time I reached out to her other than for my personal problems. The last time she came to my apartment—in hindsight, something must’ve been up. She doesn’t usually show up without calling.

So, yes, sue me for being confused.

“I’m not a mind reader,” I drawl lightheartedly.

She doesn’t take my joke to heart, and instead, she goes for setting down her mug of coffee. “I’m pregnant.”

The silence crashes through my reality. What the hell?

“Is it…my brother’s?” I begin, not sure how to grasp this news. They weren’t even serious, first of all. And right now, Chanyeol was the furthest person I wanted to talk about.

Her silence is affirmation.

I chew on my bottom lip, feigning a casual smile. “Should you be drinking coffee?”

Irene fixes an exasperated look at me. “I don’t know,” she says harshly. “I’m not sure what to do with my ing life right now, Yun. Truthfully, I’m not in the mental space to give you advice on part five-hundred of you ing up.”

I blow a raspberry. “That was kind of rude.”

“Can you blame me?”

Again, there’s silence. I’m not sure what kind of comfort I can offer her.

“Are you thinking of keeping it?” I ask, breaking the long and awful silence.

She merely shrugs like she hasn’t even gotten to that thought yet.

More silence. Oh god. I’m like the furthest thing from a person you should be getting any type of affirmation from.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask.

She doesn’t answer.

“Can I distract you with my problems?” I try again.

She shakes her head. “You are insufferable. Do you ever just take a look in the mirror, Yun? Do you not see how exhausting it is to give advice that you never listen to? You come to me only when you up. Only when you need to hear your side of things. Not the entire picture. Never the entire picture. God forbid that you hear the truth, right? You’ll end up running again. And I don’t have the energy to smile and comfort you because does it occur to you that I have a breaking point?”

“Jesus,” I mutter. “That bad?”

“Get. Out.”

I do as she says because the truth is one of us needs to put the other out of misery. My life, as complicated as it feels, is nothing as complicated as Irene’s.

I know her fairly well after years of friendship. I knew that even though Chanyeol would jump at nothing to be in the picture, this was about her.

I assume that she has more than apathy for Chanyeol, considering how hard this was for someone who usually made decisions in point-blank. She was the most level-headed person I knew.

The Irene I knew didn’t want to be tied down by anything. She was the most self-aware person I knew. Irene craved nothing but freedom. To have a life where she didn’t have the restraints of children or a partner. Chanyeol blurred those lines.

It’s why they kept going back to each other, despite her non-committal talk.

Maybe the thing that we had in common at the moment was needing space. All of us needed to take a humongous step away from the problem and take a deep breath. And so my very next thought was fixing the very first problem I made.

 

 

###

 

 

Perhaps what I needed was to right my wrongs. It’s been long overdue. When I said that I wanted to break away from the same pattern of resorting to my terrible habits, half of me wanted to believe that I was finally changing.

What I didn’t realize was that it took more than my half-assed efforts. I should’ve gone back to the root of my problems and nailed that in the bud. But what did I do?

I changed my environment and grew complacent to it again. I ed up again.

I literally have no excuses for myself. I . I’m a terrible girlfriend. A ty friend, daughter, sister—is there a role that I haven’t failed at?

This time, I decided my best option at this point was to change my scenery. If I was going to take a step back, I needed to leave. If I stayed in my apartment any longer and wallowed, I would resort back to the same complacency in the first place.

I would probably never see the light of day or try to figure out what went so wrong.

There were relics of Baekhyun in every inch of my apartment. When I took a much-needed shower after a week of being a couch potato, I’d tripped over his fallen toothbrush.

The bristles were so worn out, and I remembered teasing him about baptizing his teeth. He used to brush so hard that it could kill a dead person twice.

After remembering him, I’d sunken down into a squat and stared at his toothbrush for fifteen minutes straight.

My chest ached, and I missed him. I wondered how he was doing. Whether or not he was still kicking at work, being the amazing chief editor that he was.

I wondered if he still read books aloud in that soft-spoken voice.

Geez. We hadn’t talked for roughly two weeks, and I was acting like I lost a limb or something.

It was then at that moment that I knew what I needed to do.

I booked the very first flight to Dublin, Ireland, coincidentally, where my dad was staying for his most recent role.

Okay. Maybe it wasn’t at all coincidental.

He and I—we had our own dynamic separate from Chanyeol’s.

Dad knew I was terrible about calling, so for the most part of my childhood, he sent me postcards of the places he stayed at while filming his movies. I’m sure he didn’t expect me to find a practical use like I did now.

I pack a getaway bag, and then I lingered on my couch, reminiscing the person I shared it with. My heart fractures—the larger pieces shattering into smaller ones, but I will myself to shut the door.

I would not resort to crying. I checked my bank accounts and made sure I would have enough to go by for at least until I could finish my first draft. I would figure out everything else after that.

I knew that if I were to put off doing my first draft, I would never finish it. I’d just keep pushing it until the next day, and one day, I’ll wake up and realize that I wasted all this time making excuses for tomorrow.

The flight, as expected, was half a day and full of turbulence. I’d been lucky to make it to the toilet before I hurled out the light snack I had at the airport on my flight mate.

He was a balding elderly who shot me dirty looks when I would open the window to check out the view. So, I just ended up closing it and stared off into space as he snored away.

The touchdown brings relief into my bloodstream. If I were stuck on this seat for a second longer, I was going to blow. The balding guy next to me didn’t appreciate my fidgeting but who was going to tell him that I couldn’t help it.

The weather forecast in Dublin, as we neared the end of November, wasn’t too far off from New York. The weather was chilly, sure, but it wasn’t full-on parka weather.

I wore a long beige coat with a fluffy scarf, and it was enough to stow away the cold.

When I step out of the crowded airport, it was nearing night. The sun had indeed sunk to the bottom of the horizon.

I hail a taxi, showing my dad’s address to the cab driver. He welcomed me to Ireland with a drab sigh. I didn’t hold it against him. You could find obnoxious Americans no matter what part of the country you were in.

I could only hope he doesn’t drive us into a tree or something. It looks like it’s been a long day for him.

Dad resides in a nice neighborhood where the houses have that kind of ancient feel to them. I mean—not to discount them of their beauty.

His is a generous rustic brown bricked single with patterned chocolate shingles and blindingly white bay windows that were angled to shield from the sunlight.

The lawn was freshly mowed which I assumed from the smell of dew and grass.

When I knock on the door, there’s a five-minute delay before someone pulls the door open.

Dad is standing there with his abnormally long legs and torso. See, Chanyeol got that blustering height from Dad. I wasn’t too short, but I wasn’t tall either.

I could see the familiar dimples in his smile, the ones that I grew up with.

Dad has aged evident from his peppered hair and the deep wrinkles around his eyes. His dark hair still sticks out just like Chanyeol’s. I did remember Dad being taller, so I conclude that aging has knocked a couple of inches off of him. But most importantly, he was still a rockstar in my heart.

I throw my arms around him, and he pulls me into him. He smells just like my childhood. It takes me back to his screenwriting days when he would come home when the clock struck five-forty-five with takeout in his hands.

We shared something in common, and that was our blatant dislike for Mother’s home-cooked meals.

“Yun,” he drawls with happy contentment. “You didn’t call. Is something up?”

“I didn’t bring my cell.”

I’m not sure how he’s taking this. His daughter, someone that is unreliable who he has to seek out to contact, has shown up on his doorstep for the very first time, willingly.

My lips tremble.

I blame it on the nauseating flight. Or maybe the familiar sweet smell of home. Dad carried it everywhere with him. It was in his demeanor. I haven’t felt this nostalgia in so long that it hits all at once.

Everything. Even the delayed mortification of my possible break-up with Baekhyun.

He pulls back to clue on how I’m doing. He gets the full unwarranted snotty-nosed, bawling daughter that he should be glad he’s never seen.

Instead of acting grossed out like anyone would, he pulls me back into his chest, patting my back.

It only makes me cry harder.

How could he dote on his daughter, who is quite literally the tiest daughter known to man?

I never call. I never text. I never visit him on the holidays after moving out of my childhood home.

How could he still hug me like it was the most natural reaction on this planet?

“You’re going to be okay, honey. Everything is going to be okay,” he murmurs. It’s the exact words he told me when Mother walked out the door and never came back.

I didn’t know how desperately I needed those words. Affirmation that I was still alive and that the crackling, hissing pain in my heart would eventually subside.

Embarrassingly, after my random meltdown, I felt like myself again. The emptiness that I was worried about was gone to the wind. I tried searching for it in my locked chest, but no, it wasn’t there.

I didn’t get it. It couldn’t be as simple as visiting my dad, right? There had to be more to it.

“Tea?” Dad offers, holding out a mug after I got situated on his couch.

I nod, sniffling. “I’m sorry. You probably would pay to see anything but your grown daughter crying her eyes out this late.”

Dad holds up a hand, sitting on the opposite side of me. “Don’t apologize. You’ll always be my child. Even when you’re thirty and you have your own children, I’ll never see you any differently.”

I bite back a smile. “So,” I say, trying to move on, “how have you been doing?”

“I should be asking you that.”

“Well, I asked first.”

He snorts. “I’m not sure how to react at the knowledge of my icy daughter inquiring about my life all of a sudden.”

After that teasing bit, he tells me about his day-to-day. I was surprised to find out that Dad was doing extremely well. Not that I didn’t expect him not to.

Dad was not only cast as one of the mains, but he was also participating in the directing of the movie.

It was a sci-fi adaptation from a book that if I were to recall properly was published by FPP.

“Are you seeing anyone?” He asks me after he finishes talking about himself.

I hesitate, and he sees that.

“Ah. He’s the reason you’re here,” Dad jests with a knowing look.

I shake my head. “No, I’m here because of you. I’ve had a bit of a revelation these days.”

“Oh? Any life lessons that you want to share?”

I roll my eyes. He was definitely still witty and charismatic. That, ladies and gentlemen, is where I get it from.

“Tell me about him,” Dad says.

I bite my lip. “I don’t know. What do you want to know?”

“How did you guys meet?”

“You know him, Dad.”

He did, indeed. Chanyeol brought him over constantly. I should’ve known that something was up with Baekhyun from that alone. Baekhyun always looked more excited at the notion of being over at ours than going back to his place.

Dad squints. “You don’t have a lot of friends.”

“That’s because he wasn’t my friend. He was Chanyeol’s.”

Recognition shines in Dad’s eyes when he snaps his fingers. “Baekhyun? Goodness, that’s very fateful.”

I shake my head. “Believe me. The irony of it all.”

“Did you guys fight?”

“I screwed it up,” I murmur.

Dad looks interested. “You do have a history of doing that…”

“Not helpful, dude.”

He chuckles. “I’m just kidding, honey. You can stay here as long as you need to figure things out.”

I blink. “You’re not going to ask about it?”

Dad shrugs. “I doubt you would tell me.” Guilt floods my system, but before I can apologize, he shakes his head. “I don’t expect to know every detail. We don’t have to change our dynamic to fix things between us. I’m just glad you chose to show up here rather than resort to worse options.”

It was like he knew. I was in awe of my dad. I didn’t have to say anything, and he understood why I showed up randomly.

Still, I wanted him to hear that I was truly sorry. “Dad…I can’t begin to make up for everything that I’ve put you through. But…” I swallow. “I’m trying.”

He smiles. “That’s very thoughtful of you.”

After our little moment, he shows me to my room, bidding me good night.

Surprisingly, it’s the first night in ages that I wasn’t plagued with insomnia.

 

 

###

 

 

We have a short breakfast because Dad needs to rush to his set. There was some rain overnight, and he had to figure out the situation.

I spend the day alone, contemplating if I want to sightsee or write.

I peruse the thought of writing, but I don’t feel motivated to. There was something missing, and I couldn’t put a finger on it.

So, after grueling over what I would do, I finally get up and go see the city. Dad recommended St. Stephen’s Green which is a historical park stretching for miles on each side.

I went to see it myself, and it was breathtaking. The grass was dull, but the trees made up for it.

I could see signs of fall. The orange leaves. The giant piles of fallen leaves. The earthy smell of the park.

I watch people spread out on the grass, some with laptops, some with picnics. It made me sad because here I was seeing something so beautiful without Baekhyun.

I didn’t want to wallow in another depressing thought, but I let this one roam above me. I let it drift in my head, watching it like I would with a cloud.

Then, it’s gone, and the pain isn’t so forefront.

I wondered about my future. I wondered whether I would finish my first book here or wherever else. I wondered if Baekhyun thought about me like I did with him.

I did some self-reflecting, regretting some of the words that I threw at him. How rash of me to assume that my problems were bigger than his and how it was better to pretend that they only existed outside of our relationship.

I thought about Irene and her troubles. I wondered if she told my brother, and what their next course of action would be.

I missed Chanyeol, and I thought about our fight. It was at this time that I think I’m seeing things.

Chanyeol. Workaholic Chanyeol was standing a hundred yards from me. What the hell?

I squint my eyes, and it is him, judging from the distance that was closing on us. My frown disappears as a smile graces my lips. I run the rest of the distance and throw myself at him.

“Hi!” I yelp, hugging him tightly.

He responds with a tight squeeze. “Yun.”

“I’m sorry, Yeol. I didn’t mean to be such an .”

Chanyeol’s hairs tickle my forehead when he shakes his head. “No, I’m sorry. I let my anger run rampant, and I couldn’t see that my stubbornness was hurting you. I’m sorry about Mom and what I said about Baekhyun.”

“You don’t have to apologize for Baekhyun, Yeol. You were partially right anyway.”

He pulls back, watching me with a strange expression. “No. I wasn’t. I was spewing nonsense because I was angry that he knew more about you than I did in the span of one dinner. But then when I thought about why you found him to be more reliable than your own brother, I began to question myself. You weren’t wrong about half the things you said. I didn’t even try to see you. I just assumed you were my Yun, and that you would never change from that girl.”

I smile. “Well, I’m glad you’re here. It’s surprising considering that you don’t voluntarily take a day off of work.”

Chanyeol returns my smile. “Well, what can I say? Drastic times require drastic measures.”

“What about Irene?” I ask.

“We talked, and we decided to try the baby thing out after all.”

I hold in my breath. “What? Congratulations!”

My excitement rubs off on him. “Yeah, I’m kind of terrified of the dad thing, but thankfully, the universe decided to give us the best dad ever.”

I grin. “Oh my gosh. I’m gonna be an aunt.”

“I can’t imagine you being all doting and mushy. Christ. That’ll be a sight to behold. I’m sure Baekhyun’s already seen it all.”

My excitement dims at the mention of him.

Chanyeol clears his throat. “Well, we kind of talked it out before I left. I called him over and apologized for being a douche. We’re not the best of friends, but we’re trying to put the past behind us. I’m not against him being in our lives again. You’re probably curious as to why I reached out first. I was there when you stormed out of the restaurant. Okay, not gonna lie, I really wanted to punch Baekhyun in the face, but then I saw the panic attack that you were having. Jesus. I’d never seen you like that. But then I saw how he reacted, and he just knew what to do. It stunned me. Shocked the anger right out of my system.”

I should be happy. But I’m not.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asks, patting my arm.

“I’m not sure what we’re doing, Yeol. He found out about my OCD, and this time, I was in the wrong because I hid it from him without the intent of telling him.”

Chanyeol hums, “at least you’re self-aware.”

“That’s only half of the battle,” I chirp with feigned exuberance.

“He’s not going to dump you over having a disorder. That’s the only thing you can’t change about yourself. Baekhyun isn’t that much of an .”

I realize then that Chanyeol doesn’t know about Baekhyun’s familial situation. It’s not my place to divulge, so instead, I opt for, “I can only hope.”

“It won’t be long. Judging by his reaction when I mentioned you, I think he actually likes you.”

I try not to be so hung up on the memory of Baekhyun stopping himself in the midst of telling me that he loved me.

But just because I let the thought drift by didn’t mean that I patched up the wound.

I spend a couple of days with Chanyeol. We go sightseeing together and visit Dad at his set.

He was delighted to see us both together. It was a family reunion that was long overdue.

I haven’t felt this happy and fulfilled in a while. It makes me wonder why I was so afraid to emotionally rely on them.

I still have worries that come now and then about disappointing them, but it isn’t as rampant as before. This time, the difference was that I didn’t let it take over my instincts.

Chanyeol was a stickler about taking my medication, but I appreciated being cared for. It was a nice change from solitude.

I got some of my life together and get this—I actually wrote. I sat down and let the words that I’d been holding back take a life of their own.

My story was about kismet. How two married people from the opposite ends of the world found love in each other. How they discovered that love changes and matures to reflect the type of person they become.

Maybe I was self-projecting a little, but I wrote in the spirit of all the good memories I shared with Baekhyun. How happy he made me in the time that we were together.

The thought of him tickled my chest. The bitterness and resentment faded away because I let it go. I let myself feel it out instead of holding it in just as I mistakenly have done in the past.

I patched things up with Irene. She read my completed manuscript and wrote a million notes about the scenes that she liked and the scenes that she thought could be better.

I couldn’t wish for a better friend, a better dad, or a better brother. I’m truly happy where I am. Sure, I couldn’t fix the gap that Baekhyun left, but Irene advised that I didn’t need to.

I didn’t need to rush to feel whole again. It’s okay to have a little friction because that’s what drives you to be better.

It motivated me to get my life together, and I think with a proud heart that I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Of course, it would be nice to have some closure. I owed him an apology for being manipulative and for making him feel small as a result.

With that in mind, I email him from my old work email.

TO: [email protected]

FROM: [email protected]

SUBJECT: Hope You’re Doing Okay

DATE: November 30th

Hi. Hey. Hello. I tried covering formalities in the subject, but I guess I’ll say it again. I hope you’re doing well. I miss you. In a friendly manner, of course. No pressure.

I’m sorry for how things went between the two of us. It could’ve gone much better if I wasn’t such an idiot.

If this is us breaking up and if I never do see you again, I’m really sorry for gaslighting you. I admit to being a crappy person, and I’m trying to be better about it.

On another note, I liked dating you, and I would never change a thing. Maybe just the last part. You know why. I’m sweating through my right now, nervous about the possibility of you actually reading this. Yikes. That sounded much better in my brain.

Okay. Gotta go.

Sincerely,

Yun

P.S. I loved you too. None of our relationship was a lie. It’s up to you whether you choose to believe me or not. Just know, I wouldn’t do that in a goodbye email.

P.P.S. Sorry just disregard the message above. I’m not trying to guilt-trip you or anything. But I did want to say that I finished my first ever draft. It needs a lot of work, but I thought you should know nonetheless.

P.P.P.S. I miss you so ing much.

 

 

###

 

 

I went to bed at four AM after intensive editing. Then, I worked up the courage to email some agents. I wouldn’t receive emails back until Monday but that didn’t mean I wasn’t close to pissing my pants.

When I wake from the dead, it takes me a second to realize that I wasn’t dreaming. I stumble out of bed, gaping at Baekhyun who is flipping through a stack of paper propped against the headboard of my bed as we speak.

“W-what the hell?” I croak, swatting at the air and pinching myself. “How did you get in? How are you even here?”

I couldn’t fathom that he was literally right here in front of me. I even question my sanity and wonder if I was just lucid dreaming. Or if I went crazy from heartbreak.

Baekhyun says, “your dad let me in before he left.”

“Why didn’t you wake me?”

He considers, “you looked exhausted.”

“I—“ I stop talking and breathing. This isn’t real. There is no way this is reality. This was too easy. If my life were a video game, I would be playing in difficult mode.

“Cerise,” he says, waving his hands. “I read through your book as you were sleeping—“

I stare at him before his words dawn on me. “You did what?” I jump to snatch the papers from his hand and hug it to my body.

Baekhyun chuckles like there was absolutely nothing wrong with this situation. He doesn’t even address the randomness of his appearance. My head is spinning, and I’m on his lap—

I try to move but he already has a grip on my waist. The smell of him is so intoxicating that I almost want to burrow into his neck and never come out.

“Baekhyun.”

“Yun,” he returns meaningfully. This time, unlike the last, there’s no menace. No anger. I can’t believe it.

“You read my email.” My embarrassment comes full-blast, and I try to cower away but he refuses to let me go.

“I read your email,” he surmises. His calmness is unbelievable. This. Everything about him physically being here is surreal.

“And you’re here.”

“I’m right here, cerise.”

At the sound of my nickname, I don’t waste a second longer and do what I’ve been wanting to do for the last minute. When I wrap my arms around his neck, he moves his arms to the small of my back and squeezes.

I sniffle. “You’re real. This isn’t a dream.”

For starters, I could feel his pulse against my chest. I could feel the brush of his hair against my cheeks. I could see the tiny moles in his face. Yep. He was here alright.

“I missed you too,” he says. I can practically hear him smile.

“I’m so sorry for not telling you. I’m sorry for being such a terrible girlfriend and I’m sorry for hurting you and for deceiving you and everything else in between.”

“I know,” he says. “I sort of figured from the email.”

“Right…” I trail off awkwardly. When I pull back, something gets caught on my shirt. I glance down to tug the pressure free but see a necklace that wasn’t there the night before. “What is that?”

Baekhyun pushes a couple of strands of my hair entangled between the chain and the neckline of my t-shirt away. “It’s a necklace.”

“No , Sherlock. I meant—how did it get there? It’s not mine.”

“Sure it is,” he responds easily.

“First of all, you are way too casual for someone who literally appeared in my bed overnight, and now I’m wearing a necklace that I never bought and—“

Baekhyun kisses me. Cuts me right off from my rambling and weakens me in the knee.

That certainly is one way of doing it.

He cups both of my cheeks and doesn’t let a single breath in. I sigh happily, tangling my fingers in his luscious hair and locking my legs around his waist.

I sure hope I wasn’t dreaming or that would be so anticlimactic, and I’d be pissed as hell.

“Do you trust me?” He asks.

I nod, unable to give him any verbal signs because hello? The man just kissed the bejeezus out of me.

“This is so there’s a piece of me whenever we’re apart,” he tells me in earnest. He slips his finger around the metal chain, skimming the pad of his thumb over the chain.

A diamond-studded cherry.

My stomach dips, and I’ve never felt so full. Full of euphoria. Full of content. Yet, in the same body and spirit, I feel so, so light. Like I’m air. I’m the clouds themselves.

“I hope you always think of me even if we fight and tear each other apart. I know I’m not always the best. You aren’t alone, Yun. I can’t guarantee that I won’t run away too. On top of that, I’m not level-headed. I’m sure you can find a better guy. A guy that didn’t break your heart into pieces the very last time you spoke to each other. I don’t open up easily. I’m stubborn as .” He pauses, smiling sheepishly. “I’m aware that I’m not really selling the idea of myself to you.”

He threads a hand into my hair, holding me by the back of my neck. “But I thank you for choosing me. You see, cerise, I love you so much that sometimes, I’m unable to make the best decisions. You make me see red.

“Hate and love are both the color red. Hate me as much as you want because, at the end of the day, I’ll love you more than the nasty names you’ll call me or the mean looks you’ll give me. Even if you curse me to the depths of hell, I’ll always welcome you back when you’re ready.”

I’m crying. Part of the reason I figured is that his handsomeness morphed into a blurry blob.

“Sounds perfect,” I choke out, aware that I’m probably the furthest thing from presentable.

I appreciate him in all of the 5’8 goodness that he has to offer. In all of his imperfections. In all of the moments that I find myself reeling in the thought that I was dating this amazing person.

I didn’t need a perfect meet-cute story to tell people when they ask me how I met Baekhyun.

I didn’t need perfection because Baekhyun didn’t care whether I was perfect or not. To him, I was just Yun.

The Yun that he knew since prep school. The girl who didn’t take no for an answer. The competitive Yun that drove him to the edge.

I didn’t have a doubt in the world that Baekhyun loved me. The OCD me. The girl who was still trying to figure out how to adult. Still, he was obsessed with me just as I was obsessed with him.

There he was. My prince charming. He was better than Romeo, and this wasn’t a tragedy.

And here’s what I concur: my favorite color undoubtedly is the color red.

Because it’s us.

It stands for hate, love, passion, and everything in between. It’s the transition from enemies to comrades to friends to lovers.

“By the way,” he announces, “I think you should name your novel The Color Red.”

And that’s when I knew right then and there that he was my happily ever after.

 

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[a/n] i don’t know how to thank you guys for reading this story until the end. i appreciate all the comments that i’ve received throughout this journey.

like wow. haha. as much as i keep spamming you guys with new story ideas, i managed to finish yet another one. i’m literally so grateful for all the support. the constant support.

y’all make me so happy when you sub to my new stories. you have no idea. thank you so much, once again, for reading yun and baek’s story. i hope it taught you something about life.

their love and journey is unconventional but that doesn’t mean they’re not perfect!!1

i’m going to be dwelling on yun and this baek for a while. i wrote another unattainable male lead. ughhhh. i have no regrets for how i wrote these characters. they were a joy to write. imperfections and all.

i hope you guys love yourself even though sometimes, it’s not easy.

okay until next time <3

love,

vee