liam

⋆ 𐙚 ̊.CHAPTER 29✶⋆.˚

🇽​​🇴​, ​🇪​​🇻​​🇪​​🇱​​🇾​​🇳

The first thing Evelyn registered when she woke up was warmth.

For a moment, she forgot where she was, but then—

A steady heartbeat. A strong arm wrapped around her waist. Soft breathing against the top of her head.

Her eyes fluttered open.

She was curled up against Minho, her head resting on his chest. His arm was still around her, holding her close.

Oh.

Memories from last night flooded her mind. The breakdown. The confession.

Her confession.

She sucked in a breath, trying to process everything. Did that really happen?

Before she could dwell on it, Minho stirred beside her.

Evelyn stiffened.

His grip on her waist tightened for a second before loosening. He let out a soft sigh, his voice groggy.

"Five more minutes," he mumbled sleepily.

Evelyn blinked.

"Minho," she said, her voice slightly hoarse from crying the night before.

"Mhm?" His eyes were still closed, his tone lazy.

"You're in my bed."

A beat of silence.

Then, as if a switch had flipped, Minho's eyes snapped open.

"...Shit."

Evelyn bit her lip to stop herself from laughing at the way he immediately stiffened, his entire body going rigid as he processed their position.

"Oh my God," he muttered under his breath, running a hand through his already messy hair. "Did we...? I mean—did I...?" He trailed off, looking at her, wide-eyed.

Evelyn rolled her eyes. "No, idiot. You just stayed with me the whole night."

Minho exhaled in relief. "Thank God."

Evelyn raised an eyebrow. "Wow, thanks."

Minho smirked sleepily. "You know what I mean."

Evelyn just shook her head before looking away. The morning light seeped through the curtains, casting a soft glow over them.

It felt... weirdly peaceful.

She was never a morning person, but this—waking up like this—felt different. Safe.

Minho yawned, stretching slightly but still keeping one arm draped around her. "So... are you gonna take back what you said last night?"

Evelyn turned to him, confused. "What?"

"The boyfriend thing." Minho grinned, propping himself up on his elbow. "You were a mess when you said it. Maybe it was just a trauma response."

Evelyn scoffed. "So, you want me to take it back?"

Minho smirked. "I didn't say that."

Evelyn rolled her eyes. "Well, I did mean it."

Minho's teasing expression faltered for a second. His eyes softened as he watched her, his smirk replaced by something... gentle

"Good," he said simply.

Evelyn looked away, pretending to be unfazed, but her heart was doing all sorts of flips.

Minho suddenly poked her cheek. "So, does this mean I get boyfriend privileges now?"

Evelyn shot him a look. "Like what?"

"Like... waking up next to you every morning?" His voice was playful, but there was something in his tone—something deeper.

Evelyn blinked. Why does he have to say stuff like this so casually?

She huffed, turning away from him. "Don't get used to it."

Minho chuckled, lying back down. "We'll see about that, princess."

Evelyn's lips twitched.

A WEEK LATER:

The warm LA sun hung high in the sky, casting golden rays over the city as Minho pulled up in front of Evelyn's house. She stepped outside in a casual but effortlessly pretty outfit—ripped jeans, a cropped cardigan, and her signature silver bracelet. Minho, leaning lazily against his sleek black Mercedes, gave her a once-over before smirking.

"Took you long enough, princess. Thought I'd have to grow old waiting."

Evelyn rolled her eyes, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. "Patience, Minnie. Ever heard of it?"

Minho simply shook his head and opened the car door for her. "Not when it comes to you."

🎡

Their first stop was the Santa Monica Pier—a mix of nostalgia, chaos, and laughter. The salty breeze from the ocean tangled in Evelyn's hair as they walked through the crowded boardwalk, the sounds of roller coasters and carnival games filling the air.

 Evelyn forced Minho onto a rollercoaster. He pretended to be unaffected, but when they went down the biggest drop, he definitely screamed louder than her. Evelyn wouldn't let him live it down.

Minho, with his usual competitive nature, refused to leave without winning her a stuffed animal. After five attempts at the ring toss (and several frustrated groans), he finally got it—a ridiculously huge pink teddy bear. "See? I always win." He said smugly.

They shared a massive funnel cake, the powdered sugar dusting their fingers. At one point, Minho casually wiped a bit off the corner of Evelyn's lips, making her freeze for a moment. He smirked at her reaction but didn't say anything.

Minho drove them to a quieter part of the city—a park near a lake, where the sky painted itself in hues of orange, pink, and gold as the sun dipped lower. They sat on the grass, Evelyn hugging her knees, Minho leaning back on his elbows.

"It's so pretty," Evelyn sighed, watching the way the water reflected the sky's colors.

Minho, who had been watching her instead of the sunset, replied softly, "Yeah, it is."

Evelyn turned to see him already looking at her, his gaze unreadable. If it had been a few months ago, she would've made a sarcastic comment, but now? Now, she felt drawn to him.

"Minnie?" she asked, her voice quieter.

"Hmm?"

"Did you ever think we'd end up like this?"

Minho tilted his head. "Like what?"

"Like... us? Going on dates, watching sunsets together, you winning me stupidly big teddy bears?" Evelyn chuckled lightly, looking at the reflection of the sky on the water.

Minho was quiet for a second before replying, "I don't know. But if you told me a year ago that I'd be sitting here with you, calling you my girlfriend, I'd probably think you were insane."

Evelyn raised an eyebrow. "Wow, thanks."

Minho laughed, shaking his head. "That's not what I meant, idiot. I just... never thought I'd deserve this." His voice softened. "Deserve you."

Evelyn's breath hitched. She turned to face him properly, searching his face. He always acted so confident, so cocky—but moments like this, when he let his guard down, they made her heart ache in a way she didn't understand.

"Minho, that's the dumbest thing you've ever said."

He scoffed. "I say dumb things all the time, so you'll have to be more specific."

Evelyn rolled her eyes but reached out, lacing her fingers with his. "I mean it. You deserve everything, Minho. Don't ever think otherwise."

Minho stared at her for a long moment before squeezing her hand. "You make me want to believe that."

And as the sun disappeared beyond the horizon, leaving them wrapped in golden light, Evelyn realized—this was different. Whatever was happening between them, it was real. And it terrified her just as much as it thrilled her.

Maybe falling for Minho Moon wasn't the worst thing that had ever happened to her.

Back home after a fun day, Evelyn said, "So, marvel and snacks tonight?"

Minho quirked an eyebrow at her sudden enthusiasm. Just moments ago, she had been unusually quiet in the car, lost in her own world. Now, she was acting like nothing was wrong. He

 wasn't buying it."Marvel and snacks, huh?" He crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe as she walked into his apartment like it was her own."Yeah," Evelyn said, already kicking off her shoes and heading towards the kitchen. "Unless you have something better to do?"Minho

 narrowed his eyes. "No, but you do."She froze mid-step but recovered quickly, pretending to ignore his words as she rummaged through his cabinets. "Where do you keep the chips?"Minho sighed, walking up behind her and easily reaching for the top shelf where he kept his secret

 stash. He handed her a bag of Doritos. "Alright, princess, spill it."Evelyn turned around, frowning. "Spill what?""You've been weirdly quiet since the drive back. Something's up.""Nothing's up.""Liar.""Annoying.""Flustered."Evelyn scowled. "I'm not flustered." 

 "See? Only flustered people say that." Minho smirked, leaning closer.She huffed dramatically and walked past him, heading towards the couch. "If you must know, I was just... thinking."Minho followed her, flopping down next to her. "About?"

Minho watched Evelyn carefully as she sat down, pulling her legs up onto the couch. He wasn't convinced.

"Leave it, Minho. It's all in the past now, I don't care," she muttered, avoiding his gaze as she tore open the bag of chips.

Minho scoffed, plopping down beside her. "Someone was looking like she cared a lot in the car."

Evelyn rolled her eyes, popping a chip into her mouth. "C'mon, I want to watch Spider-Man again. Let's not spoil the mood."

Minho sighed but let it go. He wasn't going to push her if she didn't want to talk—at least not tonight.

As the movie started, they naturally gravitated toward each other. It wasn't planned or intentional, but at some point, Evelyn's head found its way onto Minho's chest, and his arm settled comfortably around her shoulder. Neither of them acknowledged it, too absorbed in the film.

It was peaceful. The kind of quiet that didn't need words.

Then, the iconic scene played—the one where Gwen and Peter kissed.

Minho felt Evelyn tense slightly in his arms. He swallowed. It wasn't like they hadn't been close before, but something about this moment felt... different. There was an unspoken tension in the air, something they were both aware of but neither wanted to admit.

Evelyn could feel Minho's heartbeat under her cheek, steady yet slightly quicker than before. Her fingers twitched against his hoodie, and she caught herself staring at his jawline from the corner of her eye.

Minho, on the other hand, was hyper-aware of every movement she made. The way her breathing hitched ever so slightly. The way her fingers absentmindedly gripped his sleeve. His gaze flickered down to her, just for a second.

But then, as quickly as it came, the tension passed.

Evelyn turned her attention back to the movie, exhaling softly. Minho adjusted his grip on her, pulling her just a little closer, and they continued watching in comfortable silence.

It had been a quiet morning. Evelyn was lounging on her bed, scrolling absentmindedly through her phone when her screen suddenly lit up with an incoming call.

Her father.

She stared at the name for a moment, her thumb hovering over the answer button. It was rare for him to call her—he usually left those responsibilities to her mother. The fact that he was calling directly could only mean one thing: something important.

With a sigh, she pressed accept and brought the phone to her ear.

"Hello?" she said hesitantly.

Her father's deep voice came through the speaker, firm as ever. "There's a business party tonight. You need to attend it."

Evelyn immediately tensed. A business party. Another one of those unbearable nights filled with fake smiles, suffocating formalities, and people she wanted nothing to do with.

"Dad, do you not remember—" she started, but he cut her off before she could even finish.

"Yes, I do," he said, his tone clipped. "But this is important. And I promise to give you all the security you need."

She bit her lip, gripping her phone tighter. "I'm still not sure, Dad," she murmured, uncertainty laced in her voice.

Her father's voice hardened. "I didn't call to ask you, Evelyn. I'm ordering you to come. That's my final decision. We'll pick you up at seven. Your mother has already sent your dress."

And just like that, the call ended.

Evelyn let out a slow, shaky breath, staring at her phone in frustration. Of course. There was no room for discussion, no way for her to refuse. Her father had spoken, and that was the end of it.

She collapsed back onto her bed, her heart pounding as a familiar sense of dread began creeping up her spine.

She needed someone.

Without thinking, she tapped on Minho's contact and called him. The line barely rang twice before he picked up.

"Hey, what's up?" His voice was light, casual—completely unaware of the storm brewing inside her.

"Hey..." Evelyn exhaled, trying to steady herself. "Dad just called. I think I have to attend a business party tonight. Can you come with me?"

She didn't realize how desperate she sounded until the words left her lips.

There was a pause on the other end, and then Minho sighed. "Oh sweetheart, I'm so, so sorry," he said, sounding genuinely regretful. "But I have dinner plans with my mom and her co-actress today, so... I can't. I swear I'll make it up to you."

Evelyn swallowed. 

The thought of going alone made her chest tighten with anxiety.

"It's fine, Minnie. You don't have to be sorry," she said, forcing her voice to stay light.

"I don't have to, yeah," Minho admitted. "But I am. I really am." His voice softened. "Make sure to call me if something happens, okay? And share your live location."

A small smile tugged at the corner of Evelyn's lips despite the weight pressing on her chest. Always so protective.

"Thanks, I will, see you later!" she promised.

If I'm still alive, Evelyn thought grimly to herself.

"See you tomorrow, princess!" Minho chirped, his voice bright and carefree, completely unaware of the darkness swirling in her mind. "Bye!"

The call ended, and Evelyn let the phone drop onto her bed.

She stared at the ceiling, feeling the weight of the night ahead sink into her bones.

Her phone buzzed again, snapping her out of her thoughts.

Mom: Your dress has arrived. It's in the living room.

Evelyn closed her eyes, inhaling sharply before forcing herself to sit up. She couldn't back out of this one, not when her father had ordered her to attend.

Dragging herself out of bed, she walked to the living room. A sleek, elegant gown rested inside a garment bag. Dark emerald green, floor-length, with a subtle shimmer that made it look almost ethereal. It was beautiful—too beautiful for a night she already dreaded.

She wanted to call Minho again, to beg him to change his plans. But she knew that wasn't fair. He had a life outside of her, and it wasn't like she could rely on him every single time.

Evelyn clenched her fists. You'll be fine. You've done this before. It's just one night.

Then why did it feel like she was walking straight into a nightmare?

Evelyn stood in front of the mirror, her fingers smoothing down the fabric of her gown. The dress her mother had sent was elegant—a deep navy blue, off-shoulder with a fitted bodice that flared into a flowing skirt. It was beautiful, but it felt suffocating. It wasn't hers. None of this was.

Her makeup was light yet refined, and her hair was styled in loose waves that framed her face. She looked perfect for the role she had to play tonight—the perfect daughter, the perfect guest. But on the inside, she was anything but.

A horn blared from outside. Her ride was here.

Evelyn sighed, taking one last glance at herself before grabbing her clutch and stepping out of the house. The sleek black car was parked in front, her parents already seated inside. She reached for the door handle, but before she could pull it open, a hand appeared from nowhere and did it for her.

Startled, she turned around sharply, her eyes meeting the unfamiliar face of a man dressed in an expensive black suit. He was tall, with sharp features and neatly styled hair, exuding the kind of confidence that only came from privilege.

She looked at him in confusion.

"That's your date for tonight," her mother's amused voice chimed in from the passenger seat.

Evelyn's head snapped toward her. "Mom!" she exclaimed, but her mother only chuckled.

Annoyed, Evelyn clenched her jaw but didn't argue. She didn't have the energy for it. Instead, she reluctantly got into the car, sitting as far away from the stranger as she could.

The ride was silent.

Evelyn kept her gaze fixed on the window, watching the city lights blur past. She had no interest in making small talk, and thankfully, neither did he.

Her mother had told her that businessmen from all over the world would be attending tonight's party. The venue itself was highly exclusive, hidden from the public eye. It was the kind of place where deals worth millions were made behind closed doors, where power and greed mixed in the air like expensive cologne.

She hated it.

She hated all of it.

And the night had only just begun.

The venue was breathtaking—an extravagant ballroom with high ceilings adorned with crystal chandeliers. The entire place gleamed with gold and white, and soft classical music played in the background. Well-dressed men and women filled the space, engaged in hushed conversations over glasses of expensive champagne.

Evelyn could feel the weight of their gazes as she entered, but she kept her expression unreadable. She had mastered this long ago—how to blend in without being seen, how to be present but invisible.

She barely noticed when her so-called date stepped closer to her.

"Daniel," he introduced himself smoothly, holding out his hand.

Evelyn eyed it for a second before shaking it briefly. "Evelyn."

"Pleasure to meet you, Evelyn," Daniel said, his voice warm.

She gave him a small nod but didn't say much else. Enthusiasm wasn't something she could fake tonight.

However, Daniel didn't seem to mind. He was easygoing, effortlessly slipping into conversation, making comments about the party, the guests, the ridiculousness of the whole event.

And surprisingly, Evelyn found herself relaxing.

She still wasn't fully comfortable, but at least she wasn't completely alone. And tonight, that was enough.

She needed someone to stick by her, even if it was a stranger.

Anything to keep her away from him.

"Hey," Daniel said after a while, leaning in slightly. "I know this might be a bit overwhelming. Do you want to step outside for some fresh air? There's a quieter balcony upstairs."

Evelyn hesitated.

The ballroom was too loud, too stifling. Maybe some air would do her good.

And Daniel had been kind to her.

"Alright," she agreed softly.

He smiled and gestured for her to follow him. They weaved through the crowd, Daniel leading her toward a more secluded part of the venue. A grand staircase led up to a private hallway. The lights were dimmer here, the noise from the party fading into the background.

She felt a slight unease creep up her spine, but she brushed it off.

Then Daniel slowed his steps, and just as Evelyn was about to ask where exactly they were going—

A familiar voice sent ice through her veins.

"Well, well."

Evelyn froze.

Her blood turned to stone as she turned her head slowly—too slowly—her entire body locking up.

He was there.

Liam.

The air in her lungs vanished.

He was standing just a few steps away, dressed in a sharp suit, his lips curled into a smirk that made her skin crawl.

No. No, no, no, no.

She couldn't breathe. She couldn't think.

Her mind replayed everything.

The cold grip on her wrist.The suffocating darkness.The feeling of helplessness.The things he did.The things he whispered in her ear.

Her fingers twitched, her nails digging into her palm, but she didn't move.

She couldn't move.

Daniel took a step back, his demeanor completely changing. The warmth, the friendliness—it was gone.

"You made it," Liam drawled, tilting his head, eyes gleaming with something wicked. "I was hoping you would."

Evelyn's nails dug deeper into her palm. The pain was the only thing grounding her.

"Speechless?" Liam taunted. "That's rare for you, Evelyn."

She still didn't say anything.

Screaming would make her look weak. And she refused to look weak.

Liam took a slow step forward, and Evelyn's entire body screamed at her to run. But her legs didn't listen.

Her mind was too lost in the past.

Trapped in a nightmare she thought she had escaped.

p.s: Liam is the guy from the rooftop lounge