remembrme
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There are some people you love quietly, so quietly that the world never notices, and perhaps that's the cruelest part of it all.
Seonghyeon has spent years loving keonho in all the little ways that mean nothing to anyone else. in the glances he holds a second too long, in the words he swallows before they can become something more, in the thousand different ways he has learned to be close to someone without ever asking to be loved in return.
And then comes a night of pouring rain, music spilling into the darkness, and keonho smiling at him like tomorrow isn't already waiting.
For a little while, the world feels softer. the rain falls, the music plays, and seonghyeon allows himself the smallest, most foolish thing imaginable: to pretend that some people aren't already slipping away from him, even while they're still in his arms.
Bookmarked by remembrme
21 Oct 2026
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Seonghyeon, Keonho, and Juhoon decide to run away from home, not knowing the fate that awaits them.
Bookmarked by remembrme
13 Oct 2026
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“What’s up with you spreading mistletoe around the dorm?” Seonghyeon asked gently.
Keonho’s shoulders tensed. Slowly, he turned around. “Uh,” He hesitated, cheeks already pink. “It’s just a festive touch.”
Seonghyeon leaned back against the door, arms folding loosely. “Festive?”
Keonho nodded too quickly. “Yeah. It’s Christmas.”
Or Seonghyeon wants Keonho to have the best Christmas possible, not realising what his boyfriend actually wants.
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Bookmarked by remembrme
13 Oct 2026
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Seonghyeon and Keonho are roommates. They don’t dislike each other, but they’ve already spent half the semester just minding their own business. That is, until Eom Seonghyeon ruined one of Ahn Keonho’s paintings and masterpiece, prompting Keonho to demand compensation in the strangest way possible:
He wanted Seonghyeon to become his muse.
Bookmarked by remembrme
13 Oct 2026
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"Hyeonie, I’m hungry," Keonho groaned. He was sprawled across the sofa in the corner of the room, his long limbs dangling off the edge. He’d been staring at visual mood boards for three hours, and his stomach was finally staging a protest.
Cooking at 3 am.
Bookmarked by remembrme
13 Oct 2026