47| I'll Wait for You (Seungmin)

The air between Nari and Seungmin is electric—heavy with heat, laughter, and breathless anticipation.

Nari's back hits the mattress, her lips parting in a soft gasp as Seungmin's mouth captures hers again, hot and insistent. His hands frame her face, thumbs brushing against her cheeks with a gentleness that contrasts the way his lips move—hungry, searching, needing.

She threads her fingers into his hair, tugging slightly, earning a low groan from him. His hands slide down, fingertips tracing the line of her neck, skimming over her shoulders until they reach the hem of her shirt. With one smooth motion, the fabric is tugged upward and discarded somewhere behind them.

It's dizzying, how natural this has become.

Nari barely has time to think between kisses, but the thought still floats to the surface:When did this become so familiar?

These moments... tangled limbs, flushed skin, hands exploring, lips grazing every bit of exposed skin—they have become more frequent. More effortless. More theirs. And what startles her most isn't the frequency—it's how much she wants this. How much she craves him.

The realization sends a spark of something wild and exciting shooting through her—right as Seungmin's lips drag down to her collarbone, teeth grazing just enough to make her gasp.

"Seungmin..." she whispers, breath shaky but smiling all the same

"Hm?" his voice is muffled against her skin, lips ghosting over the curve of her shoulder

"I—I think we should..." she isn't even sure what she's trying to say—her brain is foggy, her heart pounding in her ears

Seungmin lifts his head just enough to meet her gaze, eyes dark and glinting with both affection and something much hungrier "What?" he asks, a teasing edge curling at the corner of his lips "You want to go on top again?"

Before Nari can answer—

Riiing. Riiing.

Her phone buzzes against the nightstand, the sound jarring in the quiet intimacy of the room.

Both of them groan in unison, their foreheads falling together.

Seungmin sighs dramatically, "Ignore it" his lips brush against hers again, thumb grazing her jaw "Just for a while. No one's here. Just us"

Nari wants to agree. Every fiber of her body screams to agree. But—

"Ugh, if it's my mom..." she mumbles, squeezing her eyes shut as the phone rings again "If she's calling to tell me to come home, I'm actually going to lose it"

Seungmin chuckles against her mouth, but even as his hands skim her sides, she's already stretching one arm out, blindly patting the table until her fingers close around her phone.

She glances at the screen—and freezes.

"It's... not my mom," she mutters, her brow furrowing

Seungmin blinks "Who is it?"

She stares for a second longer before mumbling "My professor"

At that, Seungmin pulls back just enough to process it. His hair is tousled, his lips kiss-swollen, and there is still a flush on his cheeks—but the teasing faded slightly "Huh? But it's the weekend"

Nari sits up a bit, pulling her shirt against her chest but not fully putting it back on yet "Why is he calling me?" she swipes to answer "Hello? Professor?"

Seungmin leans back, watching her, the change in mood settling between them but not erasing the warmth in his gaze.

On the other end, her professor's voice is clear and direct: "Nari, good evening. Sorry for the sudden call—I hope I'm not interrupting anything"

Nari winces. If only he knew "Uh, no, it's okay. What's... what's going on?"

"I wanted to let you know the results for the writing contest you entered a few months ago have finally arrived"

Her breath catches "R-Really?"

"Yes. I have the sealed envelope here in my office. I thought it would be appropriate to have you present when I open it. Are you available to come in?"

Nari's mouth opens, then closes. Her eyes flicker to Seungmin. He is watching her, still a bit breathless, shirt slightly askew, his expression caught somewhere between concern and anticipation.

"I... uh..." she hesitates "I could maybe... come on Monday?"

Seungmin shifts, leaning forward. His hand finds her knee, squeezing it gently, his voice soft but firm "Is he asking you to go somewhere?"

She covers the receiver of her phone to whisper to him "Remember that essay contest I entered?"

"Yeah"

"He has the results and wants me to go in so we can look at it"

"Then you should definitely go, don't wait until Monday"

Nari blinks at him "But—"

"Go," he repeats, smiling—this time fully, with that familiar, sincere warmth that never fails to make her stomach flutter "This is important. I don't mind. I'll wait. I'll always wait for you"

Her chest tightens—not from nerves, not from guilt—but from how easily he said it. How easily he meant it.

On the line, her professor clears his throat "If now isn't a good time—"

"No, no," Nari cuts in quickly "It's fine. I'll come now. Thank you for calling"

"Excellent. I'll see you soon"

The call ends, and she drops the phone onto the bed with a breathy sigh.

Seungmin chuckles softly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear "Guess the universe really didn't want us to finish that, huh?"

Nari laughs, still flushed, still breathless "Apparently not"

He presses a lingering kiss to her temple "Go get your award"

"You don't even know if I won yet" she scoffs

"I have no doubts about it" he smirks "I know you knocked them dead with your essay"

She grins, already tugging her shirt back on "I'll be back. Don't go anywhere"

Seungmin's gaze softens even further "I wouldn't dream of it"

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The cool air bites at Nari's skin the moment she steps out of Seungmin's apartment. The sudden contrast to the warmth she has just left behind makes her shiver—not entirely from the temperature.

Her heart is still beating faster than it should be, her skin still buzzing with the ghost of his touch, his lips. Part of her half-considers turning back—just a quick kiss, maybe another minute or two wrapped up in him—but she forces herself to keep moving.

This is important. This matters too.

Seungmin's words echo in her mind:"I'll wait. I'll always wait for you"

A small, soft smile tugs at her lips despite the nerves pooling in her stomach.

The campus is quieter than usual when she arrives. There are only a few people around, leaving the hallways dim and hollow-sounding, her footsteps echoing a little too loudly as she makes her way toward the literature department.

Her stomach twists as she turns the corner and spots the familiar office door—Professor Kwon's name printed neatly on the frosted glass.

To her surprise—and maybe, not surprise at all—Ryu Taeyang is already there.

He's seated stiffly on one of the waiting chairs outside the office, arms crossed, foot tapping an agitated rhythm against the floor. His scowl deepens the moment his eyes land on her.

Nari inhales sharply, steeling herself as flashes of their last encounter run through her mind. She gives him a curt nod—civil, polite—but doesn't say anything. She isn't in the mood for whatever passive-aggressive nonsense he is brewing today.

Before the silence can stretch into something unbearable, the office door creaks open.

"Ah, you're both here. Come in," Professor Kwon says, stepping aside and gesturing them in

Nari sits, clasping her hands in her lap, feeling the nervous tension coil tighter in her chest. Taeyang drops heavily into the chair beside her, arms still crossed, jaw locked so tight she can hear the faint grind of his teeth.

On the desk sits a single envelope. Crisp, white. Sealed.

Professor Kwon sits behind the desk, adjusting his glasses "The judges sent their decision this morning," he explains, fingers brushing over the envelope "I haven't opened it yet. I wanted both of you here when I did"

Nari swallows, her fingers curling into the fabric of her skirt.

The tension in the room is palpable—thick enough to choke on. Even the steady ticking of the wall clock seems loud, each second stretching unbearably.

Nari can't seem to tear her eyes away from the envelope. Her heart pounds so loud in her ears that she barely registers the sound of the office clock ticking, or the faint hum of hallway lights beyond the closed door.

Her fingers twitch in her lap. She squeezes them together, trying to steady herself—but her leg bounces despite her efforts.

She risks a glance to her side.

Taeyang sits rigid, his arms folded tightly across his chest, his jaw set so sharply it looks like it might crack. His gaze is fixed forward, dead silent but radiating tension like a storm cloud about to burst. His presence alone makes her stomach coil uncomfortably, dredging up every unpleasant memory of every passive-aggressive comment, every subtle jab, every time he treated her like a threat instead of a classmate.

This wasn't supposed to be this intense, Nari thinks, her throat tightening. But it is.

She bites her lip, hard.

This isn't just a contest.

It isn't just a simple essay submission.

It's a competition meant for students above their grade level, typically reserved for third and fourth years, graduate students—the ones already paving their paths toward professional writing. When the contest was announced, Nari had almost dismissed it entirely, thinking she didn't stand a chance.

But Professor Kwon had encouraged her "You're more than capable, Nari. I think you should submit something. Same for you, Taeyang"

And so she had. They both had.

And now, this envelope contains more than just a winner's name.

It holds a possible turning point.

Winning means more than just the hefty cash prize—which, yes, would be incredibly helpful. It means recognition. Credibility. It means being seen as a serious writer. Someone with potential. Someone worth paying attention to.

For Nari, it's more than validation. It's the first step into a future she has always dreamed of but barely dares to believe is possible.

Her fingers clench tighter.

If I win... this changes everything.

But then the other voice creeps in—the one laced with doubt, the one that has always lived somewhere deep in her mind.

What if you don't?What if Taeyang wins?What if you were never good enough to try in the first place?

She inhales shakily, trying to steady her thoughts, but the tension is suffocating. Even the professor's measured movements—the careful way he slides a letter opener beneath the seal—feels agonizingly slow, stretching time until every breath feels suspended.

Please... just say it already...

Nari closes her eyes for a beat. Her heart thuds so violently she can feel it in her fingertips.

This is it.

With a deliberate motion, the professor breaks the seal, unfolding the letter slowly, eyes scanning the contents.

His face shifts—a flicker of something that looks like pride, like satisfaction—and then he smiles.

"Well," he begins, glancing up over the rim of his glasses, "Congratulations, Nari. You've won"

For a moment, the words don't compute.

Nari blinks "I... what?"

"You're the winner," the professor repeats with a warm smile "Your essay stood out among all the submissions. The judges were very impressed"

Nari's lips part, her mind struggling to catch up. A swirl of disbelief, joy, and sheer shock starts to form—

But it's immediately shattered.

A chair scrapes violently against the floor as Taeyang shoots to his feet.

"What?!"

Nari flinches, head whipping toward him.

"You've got to be kidding me!" Taeyang explodes, his face flushing with anger "There's no way. No way she won over me. This is rigged!"

"Taeyang—" the professor's voice is stern, warning, but Taeyang steamrolls over it

"Don't pretend this was fair!" he spits, pointing a trembling finger toward Nari "You've been favoring her since the beginning! Everyone knows it!"

Nari sits frozen, eyes wide, lips trembling.

"You think you're better than everyone, don't you?" he snarls, turning fully toward her now "Acting so innocent and humble, but always making sure you come out on top"

"That's enough," the professor snaps, standing. His tone is sharp, unforgiving "The judging was anonymous. I had no part in selecting the winner"

But Taeyang isn't listening. His hands clench into fists at his sides, body trembling with barely-contained rage.

"This whole thing's a joke," he spits "You're a joke" his eyes burn holes into Nari, whose breath feels thin, her throat tight

Before either of them can say a word, Taeyang shoves his chair back and storms toward the door. His parting words—low but vicious—echo sharply:

"You'll regret this"

The door slams shut behind him, rattling the glass.

Silence.

Nari sits there, stunned, her heartbeat crashing in her ears.

The professor sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose "...I'm sorry you had to experience that. I'll handle him. You don't need to worry" his tone softens as he looks at her "And Nari... congratulations. You did an excellent job. This win is well-deserved"

She nods numbly "Thank you... I... thank you"

"Let's discuss the award presentation later, when things are calmer," he adds gently "You've earned this moment. Try to remember that"

Nari stands, legs shaky, offering him a small bow before turning to leave. Her mind is a tangled mess of emotions—disbelief, pride, guilt, and a creeping sting of fear planted by Taeyang's words.

She walks briskly down the hallway, arms crossed tightly over her chest as if that alone could hold her together. Her heart is still rattling from Taeyang's explosion in the office. The professor's reassurances echo in her mind—"Don't worry. I'll handle him"

But worry is all she can do.

Every step toward the exit feels heavier. Her mind is spinning, barely able to hold onto the fact that she has won. This was supposed to be a victory, something she had worked toward, hoped for, dreamed about.

So why does it feel like the air is getting thinner with every breath?

As she turns the corner toward the main entrance—

A hand shoots out. Fingers close around her wrist—tight, sudden, forceful.

"Wha—?" her gasp is swallowed as she's yanked sideways, stumbling into an empty classroom. Her back hits the wall before she fully registers what is happening.

The door slams shut behind them.

Taeyang.

His face is twisted, his hands trembling at his sides, fists clenching and unclenching like he doesn't know whether he wants to scream or punch something—or both.

Nari's pulse skyrockets "What the hell—"

"You" his voice is sharp, ragged, bordering on a growl

Taeyang paces the small classroom like a caged animal, tension radiating from every stiff line of his body. His jaw is clenched so tight it looks painful, his fists trembling at his sides.

"Unbelievable," he hisses, half to himself. Then louder—sharper—directed at her: "You just can't help yourself, can you?"

Nari's voice is quieter than she intended when she speaks "What are you even talking about—"

"Oh, don't act clueless" his voice sharpens into something cruel "You've been riding on favoritism since day one. You think I don't see it? The professors fawn over you. The way everyone pretends your childish little essays are worth something"

Her breath hitches "That's not true"

"It's absolutely true" his eyes narrow, vicious "There's no way—no logical way—you beat me. I write like the greats. Clean. Polished. Refined. And you..." he lets out a bitter, hollow laugh "You write this—this overdramatic, sentimental crap. All feelings. No structure. No discipline. It's pathetic"

The words hit like slaps, each one sharper than the last.

"Your work reads like diary entries dressed up as literature. It's immature. Naive. Amateur" he spits the last word like it's poison on his tongue

Nari opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. Her throat is tight, dry. Her own doubts twist cruelly inside her, echoing everything he is saying.

What if he's right? What if it's all just flowery fluff?

"But it doesn't matter, does it?" Taeyang sneers, pacing toward her, forcing her to shrink back "Because somehow, you've got this whole department wrapped around your finger. You must..." his voice drops into something low, conspiratorial, ugly "Maybe it's because you're the sweet, quiet little girl. Maybe they needed someone like you to parade around. 'Look, we're not biased. Look, we support women in literature'"

Nari's stomach turns, her breath stuttering.

Stop. Stop. Stop.

"They pick you because you're a convenient mascot," he snarls "Not because you're talented. Not because you're better. You could never be better"

Her fingers tremble. She tries to force the words out—"That's not true. I worked for this. I—" but her voice catches.

"And don't think I don't see it," Taeyang spits, voice rising, hands gesturing wildly, coming too close to touching her "The special treatment. The endless praise. You think no one notices how every professor falls over themselves to give you perfect grades? It doesn't add up. Your work doesn't deserve it. You don't deserve it"

Nari's chest tightens painfully.

He isn't saying anything her own inner voice hadn't whispered to her in her worst moments.

Maybe my writing is too emotional.Maybe I sound naive.Maybe it's not sophisticated enough.Maybe I'll never be good enough.

Her vision blurs.

"I'm done," Taeyang snaps suddenly, shoving his hands through his hair, pacing like he can't stand to be still "I'm done wasting my time in a place that rewards mediocrity. In a place that pretends someone like you is the future of writing"

He kicks a chair, sending it clattering against the wall, making Nari whimper in fear "This whole program's a joke. You've somehow got this place under your thumb, but you won't get away with it everywhere. I'll go somewhere real. Somewhere that respects actual talent. Where people take writing seriously"

His glare pins her in place one final time, pure venom "You can have this pathetic little department. Clearly, it was always rigged for you anyway"

Then, with one final shove, he yanks the door open so hard it bangs against the stopper, the sound echoing down the empty hallway, so jarring Nari almost feels it in her own heart.

His parting words shoot back at her like a curse.

"But don't get too comfortable. I'll find out what you did to cheat your way to the top. And I'll make you pay for all of it"

The door slams shut behind him.

More silence.

A suffocating, crushing silence.

Nari stands there, pressed against the wall, unable to move. Her whole body feels like it was vibrating—but from what? Rage? Hurt? Shame?

Her throat burns. Her hands shake. Her body feels heavy, her breath coming in shallow, broken gasps. Her fingers curl into fists at her sides, but her knees feel unsteady, her vision swimming.

The words Taeyang hurled at her stuck—barbed, poisonous things that wrapped around the fragile threads of her confidence, squeezing tighter.

What if he's right?

What if they chose her just to prove something? What if they don't actually believe in her work—but like the way it looks to have her succeed? What if her writing really is too emotional, too naive, too... small compared to people like him?

Her win, something that should have been a triumph, now sits like a stone in her chest.

Nari squeezes her eyes shut, willing the sting in her chest to go away.

This was supposed to be a victory. A turning point.

But instead, it just left her feeling... small.

Small, and shaken, and so, so scared.

With shaky hands, Nari reaches for the door.

She needs to leave. She needs air. She needs—

Seungmin.

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The apartment is quiet when Nari returns.

She opens the door softly, her fingers trembling against the handle. Her body feels heavy, like she'd walked through a storm and left pieces of herself scattered along the way.

Inside, Seungmin is sitting on the couch, scrolling absentmindedly on his phone, one hand propped against his cheek. The moment he hears the door click, his head snaps up—and his entire face lights up.

"You're back" he rises to his feet, smiling wide "So? Did you win?"

Nari opens her mouth—but the words catch. Her hands clutch the strap of her bag tightly, her throat suddenly tight.

"I... yeah" she nods "I did"

Seungmin's face breaks into an even bigger smile "I knew it! Nari, that's—"

But he pauses. His smile falters as his gaze sweeps over her face, his expression softening into concern. The light in his eyes shifts, the excitement giving way to something more careful, more tender.

"...Wait. What's wrong?"

Nari tries to brush it off "It's... nothing, it's fine. I don't—"

"Nari" Seungmin steps closer, his voice gentler now. His hands reach out, hovering just for a second before settling lightly on her arms "Talk to me. Please"

The way he says it—so quiet, so steady, like an anchor—makes something inside her crack.

She folds in on herself, her forehead pressing against his chest "It's... it's stupid"

"Hey," his arms wrap around her, pulling her in securely "It's not stupid if it's upsetting you"

She stays like that for a beat longer, taking comfort in the slow, steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her ear. Then, finally—quietly, haltingly—the words begin to tumble out.

She tells him everything.

The fight. The accusations. The way Taeyang had cornered her and shredded every thread of confidence she had. His words, his insults, the awful, creeping thought that maybe—just maybe—he is right.

"What if I'm not good enough?" she sniffles "What if I only won because I'm convenient for them? Because I'm the 'girl' who writes emotional little stories that they can parade around? What if I'm... not actually talented? What if I'm just naive?" her voice breaks on the last word, and Seungmin's arms tighten instinctively around her

For a long moment, he doesn't speak. He just holds her, one hand smoothing up and down her back, the other cupping the back of her head like he's trying to shield her from the world.

When he finally speaks, his voice is soft—but steady. Sure. Completely certain.

"Nari... look at me"

She hesitates, but he tilts her chin up gently with two fingers, waiting until her teary eyes meet his.

"None of what he said is true. None of it" his thumb brushes over her cheek, wiping away a stray tear "You're allowed to feel like this. You're allowed to hurt. You're allowed to doubt. But I need you to know that what he said says everything about him—and nothing about you"

Her lower lip trembles "But what if—"

"No" he shakes his head, his voice firmer but still gentle "No what ifs. Nari... your writing is beautiful. Not because it fits into some stiff box of what's considered 'classic' or 'proper.' It's beautiful because it's yours. Because it's honest. Because it has heart. You have heart. And that's something a lot of people don't have the courage to put into their work"

She sucks in a shaky breath, blinking rapidly.

"I've read your writing," Seungmin continues, softer now "I've seen the way your words move people. I've seen how you make someone feel something real. That's not amateur. That's not naive. That's talent"

Her chest tightens, but this time—for a different reason.

"And if someone can't see that... if they think success only comes from copying the classics, from being cold and technical and detached..." he shakes his head, a faint scoff of disbelief "Then that's their failure. Not yours"

Nari presses her lips together, swallowing back the lump in her throat "But... it hurts" her voice is barely a whisper "Hearing it out loud. Because... because those are the things I already worry about sometimes. What if I'm not... what if I'm not really meant to do this?"

Seungmin's hands cradle her face, his thumbs brushing her cheeks "Then let me say it louder until you believe it" his gaze is so sincere it makes her breath catch "You are meant to do this. You are meant to write. You are one of the most talented people I've ever known. And I'm not just saying that because I'm your boyfriend. I'm saying that because it's true"

Her eyes water slightly at his words— there is no hesitation in his voice, no realization like it has slipped by accident. He means it. He knows it.

"And this is just the start, Nari," he continues "This is one contest. One milestone. And yeah, it matters. But it's not the only one. You're going to write so many beautiful things. You're going to win more contests, publish books, change lives with your words. I believe that. I believe in you"

Nari's vision blurs again—but not from sadness this time. Her hands clutch at his shirt, grounding herself in the reality of him—his warmth, his steady presence, the soft tremor in his voice as he whispers, "I'm so, so proud of you"

Her lips tremble "Seungmin..."

He smiles, soft and full of affection, pressing his forehead to hers "I've got you. Always"

A tear slips down her cheek, but this time, it isn't pain. It's relief.

For a long while, they don't move.

Seungmin simply holds her—his arms wrapped tight around her, one hand cradling the back of her head, the other splayed between her shoulder blades like he could hold her together with the weight of his palm alone.

Nari buries her face into his chest, her fingers fisting into the fabric of his shirt. She can still feel the remnants of the ache—raw and sharp—but slowly, it begins to dull. The warmth of him, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, the gentle rise and fall of his breath—it all grounds her, wraps her in a kind of safety she hadn't known she needed so desperately until now.

Seungmin shifts slightly, just enough to tilt her face back, brushing his thumbs over her cheeks to wipe the lingering tear tracks away. His touch is feather-light and so, so careful.

"You okay?" he asks softly, voice barely above a whisper

Nari nods, her lips trembling into a small, exhausted smile "Yeah... yeah, I think I am now"

Her fingers loosen their grip on his shirt, smoothing over the wrinkles there instead. She lets out a shaky breath and tilts her gaze up to meet his "Thank you... for saying all of that. For... being you. You always make me feel good about myself"

For a split second, something like surprise flickers in Seungmin's eyes—soft and stunned—but it's quickly swallowed by warmth. His lips tug into a smile, crooked, sweet, but full of something deeper.

"You have no idea how happy that makes me," he murmurs

And then—he leans in, pressing his lips to hers.

It's soft. Gentle. The kind of kiss that says I'm here. You're safe. I've got you.

Nari sighs against him, melting into it, her fingers sliding up to cup his jaw. But when Seungmin starts to pull away—reluctantly, like he knows this needs to stay slow—Nari's fingers curl tighter.

She pulls him back, tilting her chin up, and kisses him again—this time deeper.

Seungmin stills for half a second, startled by the sudden shift—but then he lets out a low hum, his hands sliding instinctively down her back, pulling her closer until there is barely space left between them.

The kiss grows more urgent—less about reassurance and more about feeling. About needing to lose themselves in something warm, something familiar, something only they can give each other.

When they finally break apart, both of them breathing just a little heavier, their foreheads rest together, lips still brushing.

It's Nari who speaks first—soft, but certain, her fingers toying with the collar of his shirt.

"...Do you maybe wanna... finish what we started earlier?"

Seungmin blinks, momentarily stunned, then—his lips curve into the most beautiful, breathless smile.

A quiet chuckle rumbles from his chest as he tilts her chin up, kissing her once more, sweet and slow, but full of promise.

"Yeah," he murmurs against her lips "Yeah, I really do"

Their lips collide again in a kiss that is anything but soft—hungry, needy, desperate to consume any space that has ever existed between them. It's the kind of kiss that pulls breath from lungs and sets every nerve alight, hands roaming with an urgency that feels both frantic and reverent.

Fingers map familiar paths—along waists, over ribs, tracing the dip of spines and the curves of hips. Each touch is a silent promise: I'm here. I'm yours.

They stumble toward the bedroom, bumping shoulders into the wall, half-laughing between kisses, hands tangled in hair and fabric. The door slams shut behind them, but this time, the sound isn't jarring—it's exhilarating. Nari's heart pounds, not with fear, but with a sharp thrill of anticipation.

A few staggered steps bring them to the edge of the bed, but just before Seungmin can guide her down, Nari shifts them with a quick, confident movement.

This time—she pushes him.

Seungmin falls back onto the mattress with a muffled grunt, startled but clearly delighted as Nari climbs over him, her knees bracketing his hips. Their lips crash together again, her fingers threading into his hair, tugging just enough to draw a hiss from his throat.

"So you do want to be on top again," he murmurs against her lips, the curve of a smirk tugging at his mouth, breath hitching between words. Amusement drips from his voice, but it's laced with something deeper—awe.

"Yeah," she replies simply, a smile ghosting across her lips as her hands slide down to tug at the hem of his shirt. Her voice is sure, steady in a way that makes his heart stutter.

Fabric is pulled over his head and discarded. Her hands smooth down his chest, fingers splaying out to feel the thrum of his heartbeat beneath her palms—quick, erratic, just like hers.

Their kisses turn messier, deeper, lips parting only to breathe each other in again. Clothes disappear at a pace that feels both rushed and agonizingly slow—like they can't strip each other fast enough, yet want to savor every inch of newly exposed skin.

Nari's hand wraps around him—warm, soft, confident—and Seungmin's breath catches, his head tipping back against the pillows with a ragged gasp. His eyes flutter shut for a second, but when he opens them again, the sight above him nearly undoes him.

Nari.

Sitting on top of him, lips kiss-swollen, cheeks flushed, hair tumbling down around her face like a curtain of silk. Her eyes—dark, heavy-lidded, and burning with something that makes his chest tighten.

He can barely breathe.

How did we get here?How did I get so lucky?

The realization hits him square in the chest: not just the fact that they are doing this—but how far she has come. How far they've come together. The vulnerability, the trust, the care threaded between every kiss, every touch—it overwhelms him.

Before he can even try to voice it, Nari leans forward, her teeth catching the edge of a foil packet. She tears it open, her hand never faltering on him as she works the condom down his length, her fingers slick and sure, the touch so good it makes his thighs twitch.

Her voice softens, breathy but clear "May I?" she asks as she shifts, positioning herself over him, her knees pressing into the mattress for balance.

Seungmin swallows hard, his hands flexing against her thighs. His voice fails him, so he nods—wide-eyed, breathless.

Her hand guides him to her entrance, and then—slowly, carefully—she sinks down onto him.

A low, broken moan tears from his throat as her warmth envelops him, her body taking him in inch by inch. His fingers dig into her thighs, grounding himself against the overwhelming flood of sensation.

Nari's hands find his chest, nails lightly scraping over his skin as her brows draw together in concentration. Her lips part as she lets out a slow, shaky exhale, adjusting to the stretch.

It isn't as difficult as it used to be—each time becomes easier, her body learning, growing more comfortable with the rhythm of him, of them. But it still carries that edge of intensity—the full, intimate ache of being filled so deeply by someone she trusts completely.

When she finally begins to move, rocking her hips in steady rolls like he taught her last time, it isn't just for release—it's an act of connection.

A soft moan spills from her lips, her head tipping back, hair cascading down her back, causing faint tickles. The motion sends waves of pleasure up her spine, blooming in her belly, tightening with every movement.

Seungmin can only stare.

Her body catches the light, skin glowing soft and warm, shadows pooling in every curve—the gentle swell of her breasts, the delicate line of her collarbone, the elegant column of her throat that makes his fingers twitch with the urge to touch, kiss, worship.

The mere sight of her neck is enough to make his pulse stutter now. He knows every dip and curve of it, knows exactly how sensitive it is. Knows how the softest graze of his lips there can unravel her, how her breath would hitch, how the sweetest moans would spill from her lips when he touches her just right.

He craves that reaction—the way her skin would grow warmer beneath his mouth, trembling with the tiniest shivers, her pulse fluttering against his lips like something fragile and precious... something that belongs entirely to him.

God—she's stunning.

His hands slide up her sides, memorizing every line, every dip of her waist, fingertips trailing reverently over her ribs, her hips, her thighs.

Her scent surrounds him—warm, familiar, intoxicating. A mix of skin, the subtle floral perfume she always wears, and something purely her—like aged paper and fresh ink, comfort and quiet strength woven into the air between them.

And the sounds—God, the sounds.

Nari's voice, always soft and gentle, is now breathy, unrestrained, beautifully raw. Every whimper, every gasped moan tangles around his heartbeat, threatening to pull him under completely.

"Fuck..." Seungmin mutters, hands gripping tighter at her hips as she rolls over him just right, the tension coiling fast and sharp in his belly. His vision blurs for a moment as his body shudders beneath her.

At the sound of his voice—wrecked, needy—Nari blinks down at him, her gaze heavy, sultry, pupils blown wide. Her lips part as she watches his face contort with pleasure, drinking in the sight of him unraveling beneath her.

His hand slides up, fingers brushing her cheek, curling behind her neck. His thumb sweeps softly over her jaw, anchoring her there—not just in the physical, but in the sheer reality of them.

This isn't just about the heat.

It's about the way her body knows his now—how she fits him like something destined, familiar, right.

It's about the way his hands tremble when he touches her, not because of lust, but because his heart is too full of her.

It's about trust. About healing. About love.

And neither of them ever wants it to stop.

Seungmin's fingers flex against Nari's hips as she rides him, his breath coming in quick, ragged gasps, every muscle in his body pulls taut. His chest heaves beneath her palms, his head tipping back as a deep, broken moan slips past his lips.

"God, Nari..." his voice is strained, heavy with desperation and awe "You feel... so—fuck—so perfect"

Her thighs tremble, the rhythm of her hips quickening, chasing that intoxicating high as heat spirals tighter and tighter in her belly. Each motion sends electric sparks through her nerves—the slide of him inside her, the delicious drag, the dizzying friction.

Her hands trail over his chest, nails grazing lightly down to his abdomen, feeling the way his stomach clenches beneath her touch. Her name falls from his lips like a prayer—over and over—as if speaking it anchors him to reality.

"Seungmin..." her voice is a gasp, breathy and cracking under the weight of sensation. Her brows knit together, lips parted as her movements grow more frantic "It feels... so good..."

His hands slide up, one cupping her breast, thumb brushing over her sensitive peak, making her cry out. His other hand grips her hip harder, guiding her movements, helping her grind down on him exactly where they both need it most.

"You're incredible," he groans, his eyes fluttering shut, fighting to keep them open just so he can watch her fall apart on top of him "You're... God, Nari... you're everything"

The words—raw, earnest—hits her harder than the physical.

Her hips stutter, pleasure overwhelming her, but she reaches down, threading her fingers into his, grounding herself in his hands as much as in his body.

Seungmin sits up suddenly, wrapping one arm around her waist, pressing her chest flush against his. His lips find her neck, grazing, sucking, tasting the soft skin just below her jaw—the spot he knows makes her tremble.

Nari whimpers, her hands fisting in his hair as her rhythm falters, hips bucking instinctively.

"Seungmin—p-ple..."

"Let me," he whispers, breath hot against her skin "Let me take you there"

And then—he thrusts up into her, deep and deliberate, sending a sharp jolt of pleasure straight through her. Her moan catches in her throat, her whole body arching into him.

Again.And again.

Every movement grows rougher, messier, lost in the spiral of need. His lips never leave her skin, trailing kisses along her jaw, her shoulder, whispering broken strings of praise.

"You're so beautiful like this""So perfect""Mine... all mine..."

Her arms wrap around his shoulders, holding on as the tension in her belly snaps tighter, tighter—her entire body trembling as that peak creeps closer, burning hot, stealing her breath.

"Seungmin... I—I'm close—"

"I know," he gasps, hips snapping up faster, chasing his own edge but desperate to take her with him. His hand slips between them, fingers finding her swollen clit, rubbing in tight, relentless circles that send her head spinning.

"Come on, baby. Let go for me. I've got you... I've always got you"

His words—his voice, so full of care and need—send her tumbling over the edge.

Her cry echoes through the room, her whole body locking tight before shattering into tremors of pure pleasure. Her nails dig into his shoulders as her climax hits, hard and all-consuming. Her pulse races, her breath coming in broken sobs as waves of release roll through her.

Seungmin barely holds on, the clench of her around him tipping him over the edge right after.

"N-Nari—"

His moan is ragged, deep, his entire body curling into hers as he spills inside her, his hips jerking uncontrollably. His face buries in her neck, holding her like he never wants to let go.

They tremble together, breath mingling, skin slick with sweat, bodies molded as one.

For a long moment, neither of them could speak.

Nari slumps against Seungmin's chest, her heartbeat still racing, her limbs heavy, but her body filled with an overwhelming warmth that isn't just physical. It's something softer. Deeper.

Seungmin's arms wrap fully around her, holding her close like something precious. His lips brush her temple, gentle, reverent, as his hand smooth up and down her spine.

"You okay?" he whispers softly, voice raspy from exertion but layered with tenderness

Nari nods slowly, pressing her face into the crook of his neck "Mhm... better than okay"

Seungmin lets out a quiet chuckle, the sound vibrating softly through his chest "Yeah... me too"

For a moment, they stay like that—bodies tangled, skin pressed tight, neither of them willing to break the closeness. His hands trail aimlessly along her back, fingers tracing gentle shapes, as if memorizing her all over again.

"Thank you," she murmurs into his skin, so quietly he almost misses it "For... everything. For earlier. For this. You always... you always make me feel safe. And... appreciated"

Seungmin's breath catches for a second. He pulls back just enough to look at her, brushing a damp strand of hair from her face. His eyes are soft, but glassy with something deeper—something full.

"You are," he says simply "You are appreciated, Nari. So... unbelievably appreciated"

The softness in his voice nearly undoes her again.

His fingers tip her chin up, and he presses the gentlest kiss to her lips—sweet, lingering, filled with so much more than words could ever express.

They lie tangled together beneath the covers, skin still warm and damp from the aftermath, limbs loosely wrapped around each other. Nari rests her head on Seungmin's chest, listening to the slow, steady thrum of his heartbeat—a quiet, grounding rhythm that soothes every frayed edge inside her.

Seungmin's fingers drift lazily along her spine, feather-light, tracing patterns only he can see. Every so often, he presses a soft kiss to the crown of her head, like he can't quite believe she is real, that she is here.

For a while, there is only the sound of their breathing, the quiet rhythm of their hearts slowly calming in sync. But then—

A thought tugs at the edge of Nari's mind. Something that had slipped past in the heat of the moment but now came rushing back with startling clarity.

She shifts slightly, tilting her head to look up at him, her brows pulling together in a curious crease "Hey..." she starts softly, voice still a little breathless, laced with hesitation "Did you... um..." her lips press together, fighting the faint smile threatening to form

Seungmin blinks down at her, his thumb brushing absentmindedly along her spine "Hm?"

Nari bites her lip, a hint of teasing creeping into her voice now "Did you... did you call me 'baby'... earlier?"

For a split second, Seungmin freezes. His fingers pause mid-stroke, and his eyes widen ever so slightly as the realization hits him like a sudden wave.

"Oh," his voice cracks just barely "I... I guess... yeah. I guess I did"

A flush blooms quickly across his cheeks, crawling all the way to the tips of his ears. His gaze flickers away, like he's debating whether to bury his face in his hands or pretend it hadn't happened.

"I... didn't really mean to," he mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand, visibly flustered but clearly unable to take it back now "It just... kind of slipped out..."

Nari blinks at him for a moment, then laughs softly—quiet, fond, a little breathless "I... I didn't hate it," she admits, her voice smaller now, more sincere

His gaze snaps back to her, something soft and almost vulnerable flickering in his eyes "Yeah?"

"Yeah..." she ducks her head slightly, fingers curling against his chest as if trying to hide how much it actually affected her "I mean... if you ever... wanted to... say it again... or whatever... I wouldn't mind"

Seungmin's lips pull into the most ridiculously soft smile, the kind that makes her stomach flip in that stupid, wonderful way. His arms tighten around her, pulling her closer until their noses brush.

"Noted," he murmurs, voice quieter now, warmer "Maybe... yeah. Maybe I will"

And neither of them say it out loud, but they both feel it—that quiet, steady truth settling between them. This is something new. Something more.

And Nari... secretly hopes he will.

The silence that follows isn't empty—it's full. Full of the weight of everything they've shared tonight. Full of warmth, of safety, of the kind of closeness that needs no words to be understood.

But then—

Riiing. Riiing.

The sudden buzz of Nari's phone jolts them both slightly, breaking the hush that had settled over the room.

Seungmin groans, letting out a long, exaggerated sigh. His arms tighten around her, and he buries his face against the curve of her neck, his lips brushing her skin as he mumbles, "No. Absolutely not. Not again..."

Nari lets out a quiet, breathy laugh, even as she reaches out reluctantly toward the nightstand where her phone buzzes insistently "Who is it this time?" she murmurs

Her screen lights up—this time, it really is her mom.

Nari sighs. For a moment, her thumb hovers over the answer button... but instead, she flips the switch to silence it.

Seungmin smiles into her neck when he feels her press back into him instead, her arms circling around his shoulders, her lips pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head.

Neither of them say it out loud—but they both feel it. This moment? This is theirs. And they aren't ready to let it go just yet.

They stay like that—wrapped up in each other, chasing a few more precious minutes of borrowed peace—until the silence eventually shifts into something heavier.

Nari sighs, fingers tracing absent circles over his shoulder. She doesn't need to say anything. Seungmin's arms loosen around her, reluctantly letting her go even though every part of him wants to hold her tighter.

No words need to be exchanged in that moment. They are both used to this—the way their time together always seems to run out too quickly.

Nari sits up slowly, reaching for her clothes scattered across the floor. Seungmin leans back against the headboard, watching her, the lazy softness in his gaze tinged with something bittersweet.

Once she's dressed, she turns to grab her bag—only to feel his hand slip into hers, his fingers threading through hers like it's the most natural thing in the world.

When she looks at him, his expression has shifted—quieter now, more serious.

"Hey... before you go," he murmurs, giving her hand a gentle squeeze, "I need to tell you something"

Nari tilts her head, her heart skipping a little "What is it?"

"I'm... gonna be traveling for a bit. With the group," he explains softly "We've got schedules abroad. I won't be around for a little while"

The news makes her blink, a small pang of disappointment settling in her chest "Oh... how long?"

"A few weeks, maybe more" his thumb brushes over the back of her hand "I wanted to tell you earlier, but... well..." a small smile tugs at his lips "Things got... busy"

She smiles softly despite the small ache "Yeah... they did"

Seungmin exhales, leaning his forehead briefly against hers "I'm gonna miss you," he murmurs "I'll call you the second I'm back"

Her chest squeezes, but she nods "I'll miss you too"

Then his expression sobers just a little more "Also... please be careful. Stay away from him, okay? Your classmate. I don't like the way he's acting. I don't want him near you"

Nari gives his hand another squeeze, offering him a reassuring smile "I will. I promise. You don't have to worry"

His thumb brushes over her knuckles once more before, reluctantly, he lets her hand go.

"Okay," he sighs "Go before I change my mind and lock you in here"

She laughs softly, leaning in to press a final, lingering kiss to his lips "I'll be waiting for you," she whispers

"Thank you," he whispers back

With one last smile—soft, full of so many unspoken things—Nari slips out the door, her heart heavier than when she'd arrived... but also fuller.

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Thank you for reading!