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The first thing you notice is that he's handsome. The second is that there appears to be a lot of zeroes in the amount of money that arrives in your bank account along with this request.
It makes sense at first—the good-looking ones are always worth a ton of money. It's not easy to worm your way into their big circle of friends, and it's even harder to ensure that you're the one they fall for instead of one of the several others crushing on them. But when the request form comes in, you have to do a double take at what the description says.
Kim Younghoon, junior at Creker University. Tall, handsome, but... a bit of a loser.
"Chanhee, are you seeing this?"
Your roommate bends over to take a look at the screen from over your shoulder, narrowing his eyes at the tiny lines of words. A frown forms on his lips as he reads.
An outcast who doesn't have many friends, preferring to spend his time alone as he reads or writes poetry.
"Are you sure someone like him even exists?" Chanhee takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes. "They also don't state a reason for sending the request."
You shrug at him. "Not all of them do. I would assume it's the usual ex or someone who got rejected by him. Maybe he's a heartbreaker himself." Clicking on the picture of this Younghoon guy reveals that he's even more handsome in full screen than he was in the thumbnail. "He certainly has the looks to be one."
"Wait, is that his schedule attached?" He puts his hand on the mouse over your own and clicks the next attachment. "Whoa. Okay, whoever sent this in really wants their revenge, huh?"
"I guess this is going to be an interesting one."
"Alright," Chanhee stifles a yawn, "I'm off to bed. Show me what you have tomorrow, okay?"
"Yeah, of course." You nod at him before going to open a new document. And then, you begin to work on the plan.
Heartbreak for Hire. The red words stare back at you as you go to look at Younghoon's description again before you start jotting down a vague timeline. Chanhee had been the one to come up with the name of the website this time, seeing as he kept calling you 'a walking heartbreak waiting to happen.' Maybe it was time to change the name though. You'd have to ask him if any of the ones you brainstormed sounded good at all, even if you personally thought this was the best name it had in the past two years.
It hadn't even meant to be an official business—it only started in freshman year, when resident fuckboy Kim Sunwoo had broken Jiwon's heart only to go after yours right after. You'd used that chance to play around for a bit, mostly because you were curious about the mindset of a fuckboy, but you never predicted that he would actually fall for you. Chanhee had said you had an affinity for making people fall for you when you wanted them to, and Jiwon had been ecstatic that Sunwoo had finally been put in his place.
Then it became taking requests from some of Jiwon's friends. Star quarterback Juyeon had been left in tears, foodie Haknyeon had stopped going to his favourite restaurant that he'd taken you to, and gamer Hyunjae had quit spending his days at the internet cafe. You'd paid your tuition and rent comfortably and then split the rest with Chanhee when he built the site as a project for a computer science class.
Thus, Heartbreak for Hire had started.
The description wasn't exactly wrong. In the week that you've silently observed him for, he does exactly what the description said he would do. Younghoon sits alone during lecture, usually off to the side of the room, and he doesn't speak in class until he's called on by the professor. In between classes, he's either visiting the student center for lunch or at the library. He sits alone at both places too, sometimes pulling out a book to keep him occupied and other times a little notebook where he writes stuff down. You'd never gotten close enough to actually see what he reads or writes, but it could very well be the poetry that the description form had mentioned.
Kim Younghoon was tall, handsome, and a bit of a recluse.
You sigh, jotting down the last of your plan as you tune out the professor droning on and on about some French book. The course didn't matter to you after all—you were simply auditing the class as part of your plan.
Younghoon sits a few rows in front of you, taking down notes in a fairly neat scrawl from what you could see. That didn't matter either though; this vantage point was only so that after class, you could start executing your perfect plan.
Three, two, one.
You trip on the steps of the lecture hall, bumping right into Younghoon as he walks out from his row after class. The impact makes you tumble a bit, which was a sacrifice that you'd have to make if this were to be realistic at all. So you end up on the floor along with your binder and the couple of notebooks he was holding.
"Oh, I'm so sorry!" You give him an apologetic look. A bit of a pout, extra twinkle in the eyes. "These stairs are spaced so terribly, aren't they?"
He seems to freeze in place with a dazed look in his eyes as he stares back at you. Clears his throat softly before reaching for your binder, then proceeding to offer you a hand to help you up.
You quickly gather the notebooks on the ground before taking his hand. This part was entirely unplanned—you hadn't expected him to help you in any way, so this was going even better than you'd hoped for.
"Thanks," you flash a smile. Forty watts; bright but nothing crazy. "Oh, I believe these are yours."
He takes the notebooks from you and offers your binder in exchange. And there, you had your perfect opportunity to brush his hand just slightly when you reach for it. Younghoon gives you a stiff smile almost as if it's something he hadn't done in years, and then quickly leaves the room.
This was going to be a fun project.
You find him in class the next day—a different class this time, though he still sits in his typical spot midway and off to the side.
"Oh hey! Do you mind if I sit here? Sorry," you quickly add, putting on the harmless person pout, "it's just that transferring to a completely different major has been a rough time and—you're the only familiar face here."
You wouldn't be surprised if he says no, if he simply continues to sit there and stare at you before ignoring you entirely. But he doesn't do that. Younghoon moves his bag over to the seat on his other side, clearing the space for you beside him.
"Thanks." You give him little more than a forty watt smile this time.
"So," he starts quietly, though it takes you by surprise anyway. His voice is fairly low but a soft sort of timbre. "You just transferred into English?"
"Yeah. You know, biology wasn't really my thing."
He hums. "You do know that English isn't easy, right? It's not just bird courses and an easy way out."
Was he implying that you're stupid now?
"Of course not. I just wanted a challenge that wasn't biology." Fingers playing with your necklace. You look over to him to attempt some eye contact, but he doesn't look your way. It's hard to blame him though; these lecture seats are so close together that it's definitely weird to look at the person beside you. "But I guess judging by what you said, you must be so good at it."
The corner of his lip rises just slightly. "Depends on which of the profs you ask."
Then the lecture starts. You pull out your laptop and take some notes to make it look realistic even though they don't make much sense to you, but at least you could grasp that the professor was talking about one of Shakespeare's plays. Was this an entire course on Shakespeare? You'd have to check Younghoon's schedule again and see what each of his courses were.
"Wow, that was quite heavy for a first day." You give him a wry smile as you put away your stuff at the end of class.
Younghoon's expression doesn't change but you could see that there's a look of amusement in his eyes. "Yeah, you have a lot of catching up to do."
"Tell me about it," you chuckle. "I'll see you tomorrow?" Then you give him a small wave, with just enough hesitance, and another flash of the forty-watt smile before heading out of the lecture hall and back to your apartment.
You let out a breath of relief as soon as you're out of the vicinity. The acting wasn't exactly difficult, but it does take a toll on you when there was much more to remember than simply playing a role. You had to control each and every expression on your face as well as your actions to make yourself seem more attractive. To make yourself become someone worth falling for.
"So?" Chanhee looks up from where he sits on the couch, already a permanent part of the living room view you come home to. "Did you scope him out? Did you get a gauge of the difficulty?"
You roll your eyes at him. "My day was great, roommate, thank you for asking. How was yours?"
"I'm taking that as a good sign."
"Hmm, it's kind of hard to gauge right now." You set your bag down and settle in beside him on the couch. "He's tall and handsome, which you might think would make it difficult. Yet he's quiet and doesn't seem to have many friends, which might make it easy? But at the same time, he seems so guarded all the time that making him open up to the idea of love might be a challenge in itself."
Chanhee eyes you carefully and you could see the wheels turning in his sharp mind.
"What?"
"Nothing," he waves dismissingly, turning back to his laptop. "I'm sure it'll be just fine. Make yourself seem harmless and not so intimidating. Or whatever it is you do in these situations."
"Oh, let me tell you a story about that. I sat beside him in his lit class or whatever it was and told him about switching majors and all, and—you know what? He totally thinks I'm dumb." You have to wait for Chanhee to stop laughing before continuing. "He said something like 'this isn't going to be bird courses or an easy way out.' So yeah, I would say the plan is going quite well so far."
"Well, isn't that a good thing? This should be easy then."
"Yeah," you nod, "very easy."
The following week consists of time spent clinging onto Younghoon whenever you could. Not to the point where it would be creepy, obviously, but you played the role of a confused and helpless student in need of a tutor perfectly. And surprisingly enough, he was receptive to your attachment and was willing to help you catch up with the couple of courses you'd planted yourself in.
Soon your days began to consist of hours spent at the coffee shop analyzing pieces of literature. Sixty-watt smiles. Stops by the student center where you'd buy him food to make up for the time he spends tutoring you, which was really just a nice excuse to eat together. Playing with your earrings. Classes where he'd have his bag on the other side of him so that you could sit right beside him when you arrive if you weren't already walking to the lecture hall together. Subtle but intentional brushes of your hand against his.
"Have you taken any of the English courses from first or second year?" Younghoon asks, looking up from the book to peer at you.
"Um." You glance at the upper left corner of the room, as if trying to recall past memories. "Yeah, actually. I took a few courses as electives last year just to have some variety in my life."
Of course the story was all prepared in case it came up in conversations. You would have two courses with him, and the other three this term would be in lower-level English courses that you would have to catch up with. It was all a meticulously crafted lie—in reality, the rest of your time would be spent in your actual life of biology lectures and labs.
"Hmm, that would be helpful. Your graduation shouldn't be too delayed then." He hesitates a little before adding, "Why did you want to switch majors?"
"Well," you say slowly, dragging out the word so you can whip up some more of your little story. "Not all of us want to follow our parents' wishes for us to become doctors."
"Oh." Younghoon nods at your words, but you can see the way he bites his lip and looks away.
You quickly backtrack. "But anyway, I'm sure you can understand that it's important to live your life the way you want to."
"Yeah," he shrugs, "maybe you're right."
It becomes silent again when he turns back to the book, and you pretend to follow suit. Had you touched a nerve? You didn't know anything about his story other than what the request description had told you, but he already seemed different from all of your previous targets—there was definitely much more to him than meets the eye. It would be interesting to try to figure him out like putting pieces of a puzzle together.
When you glance at him again, Younghoon seems to have retreated into his head. His eyes may be gliding over the words silently, but it looks like he doesn't absorb much of the content. You hoped that this wasn't what you looked like every time you tried to read, but if it was, at least he hasn't called you out on it yet.
"You can say it, you know?"
He slowly blinks at you. "What?"
"Whatever it is on your mind. You don't have to hold back your thoughts."
"What, you want to hear what I think about this passage?" It comes out almost sarcastic as Younghoon gives you a strange look. Like he doesn't believe what you're saying.
You nod. "Yeah, if that's what you want to talk about. But I mean, if you want to say something outrageous about it then uh. Maybe don't do it in front of the prof," you chuckle. Shrug a little. "But it's fine here. It's just me."
"Oh. Yeah, I guess."
"So," you give him a warm smile, "tell me all about how stupid you think our main character is."
Slowly but surely, you can see the way he relaxes in front of you. With your carefree demeanor and poor attempts at humour, his initial hesitation gradually fades a little more with each turn of the page until he's comfortable enough with freely sharing his thoughts. He still maintains his distance like you knew he would, but you begin to get the sense that he really does want to open up to someone—at least in terms of the material you're studying together, you could feel that he wants to share his analyses of text and his opinions on each author's works. He wants someone to listen to his thoughts.
And listening to him makes you notice just how natural your role comes to you. You hadn't anticipated it to be easy when you'd have to pretend to like something you'd always found boring, but somehow the hours always fly by so quickly whenever you're with him. It makes you notice just how immersed you are in the role that it seems to become your new reality. You find yourself slowly becoming interested in the literary works you analyze with him, looking at them in a different light that allows you to appreciate them despite how you expected them to be putting you to sleep. Then there's the excitement in Younghoon's voice when he explains a passage or the twinkle in his eye when you answer a question correctly—somehow they motivate you to actually want to do better and to learn properly.
"Wait. You don't think it's crazy that Romeo and Juliet happened within a few days?" Younghoon peers at you incredulously over the book he's holding. "That they fell in love within one night?"
"Well, if you put it that way, just remember that Macbeth went from saying no to murder to being very enthusiastic about murder within one night."
He blinks at you, mouth slightly parted like he wants to say something, but nothing comes out.
"What?" you prompt, setting down your own book. "Are you surprised that I remembered?"
Were you really that good at playing your clueless student role or was he still under the impression that you were actually dumb? You didn't know whether to be offended by this or to be glad that everything was going slightly too well according to plan.
"Maybe a little," he admits. "I just... didn't think you'd pay attention to any of the things I said. Or remember them."
Oh.
"Why not? Of course I would pay attention." You gently rest your hand on top of his across the table, encouragingly. "You should give yourself more credit. You've already gotten me caught up with everything that happened in the term so far, and frankly, I like hearing what you have to say. I like—" you, nearly comes out of your mouth. But it wasn't time for that yet. You clear you throat. "I like seeing your perspective on different works."
"Oh." Maybe it's just the lighting but there's a pale pink that seems to creep across his cheeks. His skin feels hot under your hand, so you let go.
"Anyway, going back to Romeo and Juliet. You can't put a timeline on love, Younghoon. It just happens whenever it happens." Then in a quieter voice, you add, "There's no need to hold back from it or to try to dodge it."
"Fair enough." Younghoon nods slowly. He goes back to his book and a comfortable silence falls between the two of you again.
When you glance at the calendar on your phone, it tells you that you're supposed to fall in love with him two days from now.
The day of your confession comes in the form of both Chanhee's text and your own calendar reminder, which were actually quite unnecessary when this day hasn't been off your mind for a moment. It had required some intensive planning—Younghoon seemed like a romantic after all, so you wanted to do something that would suit him.
He agrees to your suggestion of a nice dinner at a place near campus that was just slightly above casual yet wasn't over the top. You're not sure why he agrees. But at this point you couldn't think of any reason that he would agree to this if it wasn't for being interested in you, so you take it as a good sign.
Dinner goes smoothly for the most part. You set out for ordering food that wouldn't be too difficult or messy to eat, but the main turns out to be much saucier than it sounded. Definitely not cute, but you could only hope that he was already in deep enough that he could overlook it.
"There's no way that actually happened." Your jaw drops as he finishes telling a whole rollercoaster of a story about his friend. "That's crazy."
"I can't believe it happened either," Younghoon laughs. "Meeting someone who also got stood up is already such a rare occurrence, but having to hide under the table so that they could get free dessert?"
"And the fact that they got together after that? Absolutely wild. Your friend Eric sounds like a fun person though." You look up to see the waiter coming by with your dessert. "Speaking of dessert, ours is finally here."
"Unfortunately not free," he chuckles, "but I'd rather have your company than free food."
The waiter sets a couple of candles on your table along with the dessert—you're not sure why but this would work to your advantage for the next few minutes.
"Hey, Younghoon," you start hesitantly, "can I talk to you about something?"
"Yeah, of course."
You dig into the cake first, taking a bite of it as you let the words hang in the air. "I guess there's really no good way of saying this."
"Hmm?"
"I didn't mean for this to happen. But I guess I should've seen it coming." You take a deep breath, "I like you. I really like you, Kim Younghoon."
If it were anyone else, you might expect a smile or some sort of pleased expression. But Younghoon simply furrows his brows. He frowns at your confession. "Are you sure? You barely know me, Y/N."
"Then let me know more of you. Let me see more of you and let me like more of you." So sappy, you think. Would it inspire a poem? Would adding sugar to these words make them more convincing? "I just know that you're a good person. I've seen the way you care for others, the way you're in love with life itself. And I just want you to know that I admire that."
Younghoon doesn't say anything, but you could tell that there's a wavering in his eyes. As if he's just barely holding himself back from wanting to give in.
The rest of your confession gets lost amongst the waiters that come by to take away the empty plates and used cutlery. It was bad timing on your part, but you were sure Younghoon wouldn't have said much in response anyway. Maybe he found the interruption to be a relief that saves him from having to talk. Well, as long as it does the job, it doesn't matter if your confession wasn't perfect.
The night air is cool when the two of you take your time walking in a comfortable silence. Younghoon looks deep in thought beside you, too stuck in his own head to notice you constantly sneaking glances at him.
So you ground him—you walk a little closer to him so that the back of your hand grazes lightly against his, and then you're taking his hand. Intertwining your fingers until his fit so perfectly between yours. He glances at you with surprise, but soon there's a shy smile that spreads across his lips.
"But anyhow, don't let my confession plague you," you say when it's time to part after you get back to campus. You pause only to look down and fiddle with the ring on his finger—a mask of the nervousness that you're supposed to be feeling. Perhaps there's some real nervousness too since your heart does pound loudly when you glance at him and try to read every one of his expressions. That much is real. "My feelings for you are my responsibility only, so you don't have to worry about letting them get between us, okay?"
Just before you turn to leave, you give him a small wave that he returns. The same shy smile is on his face—a tiny one that barely moves the corners of his lips, but you see it in his eyes. His eyes have softened, the wall lowered.
You smile a little to yourself as you pull out your phone to update Chanhee.
You: first mission accomplished. he's on the hook.
Younghoon doesn't respond to your confession. At least, not verbally.
The lack of empty tables at the library and cafe led to taking the study session to his apartment, a cozy place just on the outskirts of campus. It was quite neat for someone who lived alone; there were none of the piles of clothes you expected to find, and the books you thought would be scattered across tables were neatly organized on the shelves instead.
"You want a drink?" He takes the stuff out of his bag and sets them on the small table in front of the couch. "I have coffee, tea, and some other things."
"Hmm, surprise me."
It ends up being some sort of strawberry soda.
He settles in on the couch beside you and that's when notice the small black notebook lying on the table. The one that you've seen him carry around with him when you silently observed him all those weeks ago. You pick it up, tracing your fingers over the worn-out edges.
"Oh, is this the notebook that you've been doing your writing in?"
"Wait—" he immediately makes a move to grab it from your hands but stops himself halfway.
"Hmm? I was just kidding." You give him a reassuring smile, holding out the notebook to him. "Younghoon, I would never invade your privacy like that."
"Oh. Well, actually..." He bites his lip, suddenly avoiding your gaze. "If you did want to look through it," he takes a deep breath, "you can."
No, it's okay—I didn't mean to pressure you, is on the tip of your tongue when you realize. Despite his initial reaction, you get the feeling that he wants you to see it. As if he's letting you in and wants you to get a glimpse of his heart through his work.
"Are you sure?" you say instead.
Younghoon nods, hesitant but firm. "The last couple of pages. I-I wrote some poems... about you."
"About me?" You carefully flip open the notebook, turning to the last few pages with writing on them. "Oh."
You recognize his familiar penmanship in black ink across the pages. The letters have a slight tilt as if one leading on to the next, a graceful balance between print and cursive. But what you notice the most is how the words seem to be alive. As you read through his delicately written poems, his words begin to paint a picture in your mind. You start to see yourself from his perspective, from the moment your hands brushed in the lecture hall, to the brilliant smiles you'd shown him, to your confession. You see the times he wanted to smile back, the times when he was touched you remembered something he said. The times his heart thudded when you met his eyes. Each moment was captured in the fine lines of ink gracing the pages.
"This is really embarrassing," he mumbles, turning away from you. "Maybe you shouldn't be reading them. It's kind of stupid."
"No, Younghoon. It's not stupid. Anything that's worth liking is not stupid." You set down the notebook and go to cup his jaw, turning his head so that he's looking right at you. There's a flush on his cheeks that feels hot under your fingertips, but he doesn't avoid your gaze this time. "They're amazing. You're amazing. If it's any reassurance, I can easily say that this is the most romantic thing anyone's ever done for me. You have such a way with words that the emotions they bring are almost tangible. It's a gift, really. I've always admired your perspective and how look at life like you're right where you belong."
He's not the only one who's surprised by your little speech. It surprises you too. You had meant to give one of your typical responses from your plans, something casual but just enough to keep him in your subtle game of push and pull. But everything you said had ended up being the truth.
"Really?" he whispers. His eyes shine with such a bright glimmer of hope that it you find it hard to breathe. The weight of it crushes you, knowing that all of this is not as real as he thinks it is.
But you brush the thought away.
You give him a soft smile. "Yeah, Younghoon. Thank you for showing me."
What you do next is not in your calendar nor in the plans. It's as if you throw everything to the wind when an urge tells you to lean in towards him. It tells you to forget all about the plans because none of it matters except for Younghoon's lips and the way his gaze slowly travels down to yours. The way you really want to find out what it's like to kiss him, to have him in such a vulnerable state of intimacy that he once felt was impossible.
So you lean in, giving in like you've always said he should. You give in to the fluttering of your heart when his eyes close bit by bit, and you give into the burning of your cheeks when he wets his lips.
And then you finally close the distance. You can sense his hesitation at first, holding back like he always does. But as you kiss him and as your hands caress his cheeks ever so tenderly, he slowly relaxes into your kiss. Younghoon's lips move against yours until he's kissing you back, until his lips part and you can taste the heat of his mouth and the strawberry soda on his tongue. A faint sweetness, just like his presence.
The books and notes stay on the table and the studying long forgotten by the time you decide to head home. A glance at the stream of unread texts from Chanhee makes you realize that you'd also completely forgotten about updating him with today's progress.
Your roommate confronts you first thing in the morning. Chanhee waits for you in the kitchen with coffee for the two of you, which usually would've been a very nice start to your day, but there's a sense of dread weighing down your stomach. You'd wanted to avoid updating about yesterday because it seemed wrong to be telling anyone about how Younghoon's hair felt between your fingers or how he smelled like orange blossoms when you buried your face in his chest. The poems were a different realm entirely—maybe you'd talk about the kissing if Chanhee asks but revealing anything about the poems felt too much like an invasion of privacy.
So you give him quite a watered-down version of what happened. The two of you had gone to Younghoon's place, and you'd studied the passage that would be on your upcoming quiz, obviously. You'd had strawberry soda and ordered takeout. And that was it. No mentions of kissing, and no mentions of the poems.
Chanhee narrows his eyes at you as if searching yours for answers omitted from your words. "So when are you planning on ending it with him?"
"Maybe in a few more weeks?" you say hesitantly. "I just need to be sure that's he's actually on the hook."
A lie. You don't know why you lie, but perhaps you really weren't completely sure that he has feelings for you. Perhaps you really don't know how long you needed to get him to fully open up to you. Younghoon seemed to guard his heart so tightly that for once you weren't confident in your ability to worm your way in.
Chanhee rolls his eyes dramatically. "Y/N, there's no doubt he's on the hook. The guy is absolutely in love with you already."
"What, did you see him on campus or something?"
"Yeah, I saw the two of you," Chanhee nods, staring at you like it's something obvious. "It was so apparent from the way he looked at you. He's never come close to making such facial expressions before meeting you."
"Um," you pause to take in his words. Stare at him. "So you've also seen him before I met him?"
"I had my own observation period, you know?" He shrugs nonchalantly but a hint of a smirk appears on his face. "The description made him sound so strange that I wanted to see him with my own eyes."
"And? What did you think of him?" you ask nervously. Why did it suddenly feel like you were seeking your friend's approval for a boyfriend?
Chanhee takes a sip of his coffee as he thinks. "Well, the description wasn't wrong..."
"But?"
"But there seems to be much more to him than meets the eye."
"Yeah, of course." You take a sip of your own coffee, then try to search his face for any clues of what he's thinking. "That description barely did him any justice. Clearly whoever sent in this request took his strengths and turned them into his flaws. I just don't get why anyone would hate him so much though."
Your roommate nods slowly, though his face shows he's completely unconvinced. "Right. So. He's definitely in love with you already. And as your manager, I would advise you to end it soon."
"I guess," you mutter under your breath. "Just give me a few more weeks to make sure."
"Don't drag this out, Y/N. Nothing good will come out of it."
You down the rest of the coffee and flash a convincing smile before heading out. Younghoon would be expecting you soon.
But on your walk to campus, Chanhee's words keep repeating in your mind. Was Younghoon really in love with you already? That sentence alone should be enough to make you pleased, because this is what you wanted this whole time. It was a sign that you've successfully completed most of your mission. But for some reason, it's hard to feel happy about it.
Asking Younghoon for the translated version of The Little Prince was not an excuse to go back to his place. It wasn't, since you really did not want to attempt analyzing the original copy in French when you could barely count to ten in the language. Yet the shy look he gives you has your heart doing a little leap. The knowledge that you would be alone with him again certainly did not help, nor did the knowledge that he was all too aware of it too.
Maybe the two of you would actually be studying this time though—you'd asked for his copy of the book after all. Maybe you would just be silently reading while he works on that essay he had yet to finish.
And it does go well. The two of you end up lying on the couch, reading the book together as he points out his favourite quotes and helps you with their analyses.
"What do you think of this one?" Younghoon holds the book closer to you, pointing at a couple of lines near the top of the page.
It's the time you spent on your rose that makes your rose so important...People have forgotten this truth, but you mustn't forget it. You become responsible forever for what you've tamed. You're responsible for your rose.
"Oh, I remember seeing this one before when I read a summary earlier." You take the book and flip through it briefly, glancing at the cute drawings of the little prince on all of the planets he travels to. It brings back some memories from when the book had been mentioned in high school, although you hadn't paid much attention in class at the time when you'd found it so boring. When you hadn't had the ability to appreciate things like you do now. "Hmm, I feel like it sums up the central moral of the story quite nicely. What do you think of it?"
"It's one of my favourite quotes," Younghoon says, setting the book down. There's a sparkle in his eye that makes you stop to catch your breath for a second. "Isn't it beautiful that the time and effort you put into something is what ends up making it unique?"
"Yeah," you nod. "There may be hundreds of roses that look the same as yours, but they're not the same because they're not the one that you personally watered and watched grow."
That makes him break into a soft smile. "Exactly. And that alone is what makes it more special to you than the rest of the roses in the world." He pauses to brush a strand of hair away from your face. "That's what makes your rose something you can call yours."
His fingers trail to your cheek and then your jaw, tracing over your features lightly as if a paintbrush on a canvas. And you try not to stare at the warmth contained in his gaze and in his fond smile, but it's as if they cradle you, they coax you until the lines blur and you're unsure of whether this is real or an act. They make you want to give in in the same way you want him to.
"So are you my rose, Younghoon?" you murmur. "Are you mine?"
His thumb lingers on your lower lip for just a second before he answers. "I'll be your rose. Then Y/N, you know you're responsible for my heart now?"
"Yeah, I suppose I am."
The smile on his face widens and it's the last thing you see before his lips are on yours. He kisses you first this time as if he's finally opening up to you, and you find yourself wanting, always wanting, more and more. To hear what it's like when his breath hitches, when he lets out muffled moans against your neck. To see the pleasure written across his face when he stops holding back and lets go. You find yourself wanting him in more ways than you can fathom.
The thought leads to a slight twisting of your stomach, though it quickly becomes hard to remember why when he's now giving in like you'd always wanted him to. When his kisses you and touches you so gently as if you're as delicate as a rose. Maybe you were actually the rose, and he was your prince. Maybe he was responsible for the quickening of your pulse and the inevitable smiles on your face when you're with him.
In the morning when you go to grab the book for class, you can see another quote on the page it's open to.
But if you tame me, then we shall need each other.
Chanhee confronts you again as soon as you open the door. At this rate, you'd been avoiding his messages—you'd sent short and vague texts updating him on what had been happening, but some nights you'd put your phone on do not disturb before entirely ignoring it.
"Are you avoiding me?" is the first thing he says. He takes your hand and sits you down at the table before you could run off to hide in your room.
"Um. No?"
"Then why are you ignoring my texts?" Chanhee narrows his eyes suspiciously. "Y/N, what's been going on?"
You avoid his gaze, staying silent even though it would only make you seem more guilty.
"Jiwon stopped by yesterday. Dropped off some bio notes for you." He passes you the folder sitting on top of the counter, a questioning expression on his face. "Have you not been keeping up with school?"
"Um." You shrug. "I might be a little behind?"
Chanhee raises an eyebrow. "Yeah, but this is the first time I've seen you so enthusiastic about reading a play that you'd rather do that than study your gene regulation or whatever it was."
"Oh."
The folder feels thick beneath your hands even though you've only missed a few classes. But when you flip through it, the practice tests and the slides with Jiwon's neat writing filling the margins only serve as a reminder of how much of your real life you've missed while stuck in the role of your fake one.
"Y/N, this is about Younghoon, isn't it?" Chanhee sighs, sitting down beside you. "I knew it wasn't a good idea for you to take him on. Everything from the amount of money to the way his profile was written all looked strange."
You meet his gaze. "Wait, Chanhee, that's exactly it. I've been feeling quite hesitant about," you gesture vaguely, "ending this. But I think that's because I really can't understand why anyone would target him."
"So you haven't spotted any red flags?"
"No, I don't think so." You frown, trying to recall if you'd felt anything but safe and loved while around him. "He's sweet. Literally like a big teddy bear. And of course I don't know everything about him, but I know for a fact that he's different from all of our previous targets."
Chanhee matches your puzzled expression. "That makes it sound like this is a personal vendetta against him. Maybe stemming from a misunderstanding? Do you think there was someone he's rejected in the past?"
"He hasn't mentioned anyone," you shake your head. "But even if there was someone like that, I'm not liking the look of this."
"Does he not have any red flags at all? Maybe something that he's hiding from you?"
"Hmm, well." You pause to think. "Actually, the only red flag might the way he pours the milk before the cereal. Other than that, I really can't think of anything else."
Chanhee's frown deepens. "He—wait what?"
"Yeah, I had to do a double take when he did that."
"That's not what I meant," he waves dismissingly. "You were at his place? Eating breakfast? When this happened?"
"Um." Oh. You quickly wrack your brain, trying to think of excuses that didn't place you in Younghoon's apartment in the morning. Though you suspect that Chanhee must've known anyway when you didn't answer his texts nor come home that night. "Yeah."
"I'm not going to comment on your... personal life," he gives you a pointed look, "but you have to stick with the plan, Y/N. Someone's bound to get hurt if you don't."
"Yeah. Right."
Indeed it had been a stupid thing to do. Kissing your targets was already a sort of grey area but sleeping with them was entirely outside of the agreement. It was stupid of you to spend the night at his place, waking up in his bed with limbs intertwined and sheets tangled as if it were something truer than it should've been. Something real. And then staying for breakfast on top of that and walking to class together with your hand in his—it seemed like a lot of your actions concerning Younghoon had become quite reckless lately.
You check the calendar once you collapse into your bed. It tells you the breakup should've happened three days ago.
There's a sinking of your heart when you think about seeing him today. How was it possible to simultaneously feel such happiness and such dread? You wanted to see that beautiful smile of his; you hated the fact that what he was smiling at was only a facade. You wanted him to open his heart; you wanted him to keep his guard up so that he could protect himself from the impending heartbreak. You wanted him to love you; you wanted him to hate you and leave you before you could leave him.
"Hey, are you okay?" The sound of Younghoon's voice pulls you out of your thoughts.
"What?"
"What's wrong, Y/N?" He gives you a worried frown before enveloping you into a hug. "Talk to me."
You heave a sigh, tightening your arms around him as you breathe in his faint scent of orange blossoms and jasmines. Would it be so bad to just stay in his arms forever? You wanted to drown in him, to be so overwhelmed by his love that you forget everything except for the sound of your own name coming out of his mouth. But unfortunately, he couldn't be the solution to your problems if he was also the cause of them.
"Have you ever been stuck in your own kind of 'to be or not to be' moment?" you ask quietly.
Younghoon pulls back to look at you with wide eyes. "You can't mean you're actually contemplating life or death here, right?"
"No," you shake your head. "But I feel like I'm stuck between two decisions. To suffer through the slings and arrows of one even though it may be comfortable and safe, or to end the heartache even though it's uncertain what might happen next."
"Do you think I could help you with this?" An ironic question. It makes you heart hurt seeing that he was so willing to help you make this decision, one that he had no idea was about him.
"Sure," you meet his eyes just briefly, "but um, I can't give you any details."
"That's okay, I get it." He smiles and takes your hand in his, lacing your fingers together. "Well, if it's not concerning matters of life or death like in the play, hmm," he hums as he thinks. "I would say that there's no point in suffering through your sea of troubles. If you're not happy with where you are, then there must be some things that need to change. And even if it's uncertain what may happen next, there are so many possibilities out there that you could run into something good. You'd just have to take a leap of faith to find out."
You nod slowly, trying to process his words. Maybe he was right. Maybe continuing on the path to breaking his heart wasn't the answer, but rather taking a leap of faith and revealing the truth. Whether that might lead to losing him forever or... something else entirely.
"You're smart, Y/N. I trust that you'll make the right decision." Younghoon leans over to gently press a kiss to your lips. "Whichever one you end up deciding on."
When he kisses you again, his lips taste like sadness.
You nearly run home after giving some lame excuse that you can barely remember. With all the uncertainties and dilemmas in your mind, there was one thought that was now crystal clear to you: Younghoon doesn't deserve this. You had to stop this agreement somehow.
"Chanhee, I need to find out who sent in that request," you blurt as soon as you yank the door open.
"Are you okay?" He blinks at you, lowering his glasses. "And why? We said they would all be anonymous, Y/N. This is breaking the contract that you made them sign."
"I just—I can't do this anymore. I need to find out who sent it because Younghoon doesn't deserve this. He never did, and I have no idea who in the world would want to break his heart. If we find out who sent it, maybe I could go talk to them." You start pacing around in front of him, yanking at your hair in frustration. "I could return their money and back out of the deal."
"It's a lot of money though."
"I know. But he doesn't deserve this, Chanhee. There has to be something else going on, something strange. You've got to trust me on this." You then heave a sigh and collapse onto the couch beside him. "Even I have morals, you know."
Chanhee looks at you and then suddenly bends over in laughter. "Kind of hard to believe when we've been running this business since freshman year."
You sigh again.
"But Y/N," he takes your hand and gives it a squeeze, "if this is what you want, I'll find them for you, okay?"
"You're the best, roommate."
You try your hardest to avoid Younghoon for a while whenever you could. It wasn't that you didn't want to see him, but rather you couldn't stand seeing him show you so much love when you'd lied about everything. It was like kicking a puppy—the one person that he trusted was now betraying him. So the studying at the library became needing to help your roommate clean the apartment. Going over to Younghoon's place became a meeting for a group project in one of the courses you didn't share with him. Lunch breaks in the student center became catching up with your friend Jiwon.
Luckily, the result comes out fairly quickly. Chanhee was quite a genius after all, so it really shouldn't be too surprising when he corners you the moment you walk through the door a few days later. He's holding his laptop, glasses on his head, and bathrobe crumpled and half off his shoulder as if he hasn't slept in days.
"So," he stares you down. "Bad news first or good?"
You give him a questioning glance, stepping around him. "Um. Good news?"
"Okay." Chanhee nods, clicking around on his laptop as he follows you to the couch. "The good news is that I found the person who sent in that request."
"Oh. So who was it?" You had not prepared yourself for this moment.
"That," he glances over at you with a frown, "is the bad news."
"Why? Does he have some crazy ex? From what he's told me, I don't think he's dated anyone before—"
"Y/N." He puts the laptop down on the table and sits beside you. Takes both of your hands in his. "It's not his crazy ex... it's yours. Kim Sunwoo."
You couldn't believe it. Of all the people that you'd imagined who could've sent the request, Sunwoo was probably the farthest from what you expected. Why did it do it? Younghoon didn't seem to have any ties with the guy, and you certainly didn't either since breaking up with him in freshman year. Could they have known each other in the past? The worse case scenario you could think of was that maybe Sunwoo used to bully Younghoon in high school. Maybe he sent the request to continue it.
Sunwoo doesn't notice you until you're right in front of his table at the student center. He looks up lazily, a tiny smirk ghosting his lips.
"You sent in that request, didn't you?"
He stares at you silently before shrugging. "I might have. What's it to you?"
"Why did you do it?"
"Kind of wanted to see the infamous Y/N dating a loser," he shrugs again, the smirk on his face growing. "How's that been going for you?"
"Younghoon is not a loser," you growl. "He's a better person than you will ever be."
"Yeah? What, are you dating him for real now or something?" Sunwoo laughs and you want to smack that look right off his face. "Wow, didn't think you were this easy."
"Just shut up." Reaching into your bag, you pull out the wad of cash that you'd taken out of the bank today. You shove it at him. "I'm returning this to you and backing out of our deal. So don't contact me ever again."
Then you leave. You leave thinking that doing this made things right. That maybe this would make telling Younghoon the truth a little easier on your guilty conscience. Or that maybe you wouldn't need to break up with him at all, and what you had with him could become real.
But the rumours begin to spread shortly after the confrontation with Sunwoo.
There's no doubt that it was Sunwoo who spread them, seeing as he was the only other person who knew about your fake relationship with Younghoon. It was easy to brush off the whispers in class and the stares in the student center; it didn't matter what people thought of you since you've always had some sort of reputation anyway.
None of it mattered except for the way Younghoon doesn't text back that night, and the way he wears his emotions on his face when you walk into class the next morning.
"Tell me it's not true. Please, Y/N. Say it's not true." Sadness clouds his features as he fights back the tears. He looks absolutely broken.
You wanted to lie to him. To tell him that none of this was true. But for the amount of damage you'd already caused, you owed him the truth no matter how difficult it was.
"I... I'm sorry, Younghoon."
"But how could you, Y/N? I trusted you. I thought we—you were—" Younghoon bites his lip and then quickly wipes his eyes with the back of his hands. He runs out of the room.
You leave too. There was no longer any reason for you to sit in a class you weren't even enrolled in.
There's no reason to chase after him either, so you allow your steps to slow to a stop right outside the lecture hall. Because when you think about it, wasn't this what you wanted when you first laid eyes on the request that came in? Seeing him broken like this was supposed to indicate that you've successfully completed another mission. But the way he'd squeezed his eyes shut and the way his lip had quivered—seeing that had only made your own heart hurt. They make you regret ever accepting this request, ever starting this business in the first place.
When you get home, you finally reveal everything to Chanhee. Everything from your feelings for Younghoon and how you were going to tell him the truth, to the confrontation with Sunwoo and the start of the rumours. And as he listens, it dawns on the two of you that the website should be shut down. That maybe it should've never existed. There would be no more requests, no more targets, and no more pretending to be someone you're not for the sake of hurting others. It was already difficult to remember why you thought it was such a good idea in the first place—taking pride in being able to make anyone fall for you, and then using it to hurt them? It all sounds so stupid and hurtful now. But none of it mattered anymore.
None of it matters aside from the way Younghoon leaves the room right when you walk in. The way he sits in a corner as far from you as possible when he spots you in the library or at the student center, the way he seems to cower until he's so small despite being so tall. It's as if he's gone back to the way he was before meeting you, but to an even more extreme level—the walls are up and barricaded, refusing to as much as let anyone give him a glance.
It takes a week before you can muster up the courage to try to talk to him.
"Younghoon! Wait up. Can we talk?" You reach for his arm on instinct, but he flinches away from you. "Please?"
His eyes are already guarded but you can see the way they harden even more. "What is there to talk about? Haven't you done enough?"
"What?"
"You've managed to do what you set out to do, right?" He scoffs. "You win."
"No, Younghoon," you shake your head. "Listen, I gave that money back. I backed out of the deal because I couldn't do it anymore—"
"So?"
"So I care about you, genuinely. I couldn't go on with the deal anymore because I actually care about you. I don't want to break your heart, Younghoon. I want to love y—"
"Sorry to disappoint, Y/N." He finally looks you right in the eye. "But you can't exactly break my heart if I never fell for you in the first place."
"H-hey," you say just as he's about to turn away. "You can't just trust everything you hear, you know."
He barely spares you a glance. "Yeah? You also can't trust everyone who's nice to you."
And with that, he leaves. Never once turning back.
You heave a sigh, heading back home instead of going to any of the bio lectures you had scheduled for the rest of the day. You tell yourself that this was to be expected—surely, you couldn't have hoped that he would just magically forgive you and that things would fall back together so easily? If you'd learned anything from all the reading you'd done, it was that 'The course of true love never did run smooth.'
Ever since starting the business, you'd always thought that there was bound to be some red flags with each of your targets because surely they're targets for a reason, right? Maybe they were an asshole to everyone around them, maybe they were playing around with people and stringing them on. Maybe they spread nasty rumours. But in all of the time you spent with Younghoon looking for a red flag, you never realized that maybe you were the red flag. You were the one playing around with hearts, breaking them one by one until they're crushed beneath your feet. And this time with Younghoon, it was never about the target. It was about you.
Maybe Sunwoo didn't send that request because he wanted you to date someone he thought was a loser. Maybe this was his way of getting revenge on you—sending you a good guy whom he knew you'd actually fall for, and then having the heartbreaker's own heart get broken.
In the weeks you spend hanging around the apartment, you notice that Chanhee seems to feel guilty too. He helps you clean the living room, makes you coffee, and tries to cheer you up. It felt to you as if he was putting his efforts into the wrong person because you didn't deserve it at all, but you could also understand him. He may not have been the one to do the heartbreaking nor was he the one in direct contact with the people you went after, but you could tell that the guilt from creating the website and managing it seemed to be catching up with him now.
It was as if the haze in your mind had lifted once the website was shut down, and you were finally able to take a step back and evaluate the choices you'd made. How had the two of you become so lost in this journey? It's not that you had no morals—you knew that you were both decent people. But how had this business clouded your judgment so much? How was it possible to lose every sense of your being to such a worthless cause?
Perhaps now you realize how Macbeth had met his downfall, and how Hamlet had spiralled into his descent to madness.
"If you're that miserable then at least try to win him back," Chanhee raises an eyebrow at you from his usual spot at the couch. "Do something. Don't just mope around."
"I can't just do that. How could I ever dare show my face again when I've hurt him so much?"
The black coffee you're holding barely tastes bitter over the mask of how bitter your life had become. Between all the catching up you've had to do for your biology classes, you'd thought that there would be no time to think about him. And it wasn't like you've never been through a breakup before, but none of them had felt like this.
Your roommate glances at you up and down, frowning. "You do know it's not that simple? Yeah, you've hurt him but that doesn't mean his feelings for you will be erased just like that. And if you really want this, then you shouldn't be giving up so easily either."
"Maybe, but this isn't some kind of romance novel where the main characters always end up together," you groan. "And besides, how am I supposed to just win him back? He's probably blocked me on all platforms and never wants to see me again."
"Well, how did you get him to fall for you? Could you use the same tactics?"
"Ugh, don't even talk about that." You bury your head in your hands. "Everything was so fake, okay? No more tactics or games. I want to throw up just thinking about how I did that to him."
Chanhee crosses the room and sits down in the chair beside you. "Y/N, I'm sure not all of it was fake. If you're feeling this way right now, then that means you really did bare a part of your heart to him." He puts an arm around you, rubbing soothing circles on your back. "Everything you did for him outside of the plans when you strayed from them—those things weren't fake, okay? You did them out of your sincere feelings towards him."
"I guess." You sniffle, wiping the tears away with your sleeve. "But what am I supposed to do now?"
For someone who's always had a way of winning people's hearts and a bunch of tricks up your sleeve, you suddenly feel so lost. Without knowing the end result, without having the plan that you'd always so intricately built, it felt like you were grasping with the unknown.
"Show him your sincerity," Chanhee suggests. "He likes poetry right? You can attempt to write a poem."
You nearly spit out your coffee. "Is that a joke?"
"Obviously. Please don't actually write any," he deadpans. Then he nudges you playfully. "Hmm, how about a love letter? Handwritten on paper of course. I don't mean typing it out and printing it or anything like that."
"That might work." You nod, already thinking of potential things to write about. "Thanks for the idea."
"Just make sure your writing is neat, okay? You might need a bit of practice first."
You flick him on the forehead before retreating to your room.
Younghoon, I'm sorry. If you do decide to read this, just know that I honestly regret what I did. Though you have to know that I don't regret getting to know you or being with you. I don't regret any moment I've spent with you. The things I said to you were all genuine. I didn't need to fake those. I only lied about switching majors but the things that you've taught me were things that I've actually come to enjoy. My feelings for you are genuine too. I'm really sorry that we met this way, but maybe in another life—
You shake your head, erasing the last part. That was dramatic even for him.
I'm really sorry that we met this way, but I'm not sorry to have loved you—
Was that any better? Maybe it should be erased too.
"It's fine, Y/N. You're allowed to express your love in a love letter," Chanhee rolls his eyes from where he stands behind you, looking at your letter from over your shoulder. His face wears an expression of disgust despite the reassuring words he just said.
"Hey!" You quickly cover up your letter. "Were you standing there the whole time?"
He chuckles, nodding. "Are you done? Let's go send it to lover boy, shall we?"
And so, Chanhee walks you to the library. You don't have to check Younghoon's schedule to know that he would be between classes, probably studying by himself at this hour. It briefly makes your heart clench; you'd missed the times when the two of you hung out together, but now he'd be alone just as he'd been before you came along and ruined his life.
"This makes me feel like some boy in a romcom," you mutter under your breath. The envelope sits between your fingers, slightly wrinkled from how much you've fiddled with it on your way to campus. "You know. The whole throwing a stone at your window, waiting there with a giant sign and a boombox."
"That would be a little difficult to do when he lives in an apartment building," Chanhee laughs. "Just stick with your love letters, okay? I'm sure he'll appreciate those."
Chanhee lingers a few paces behind you when you walk up to the section of desks in the library. Younghoon was easy to find—this was one of the usual tables where the two of you had spent your time.
You're standing right in front of him when he finally looks up, but Younghoon quickly lowers his head back to his notes when he realizes it's you. It nearly makes you back out of this entire plan, and if it weren't for Chanhee making somewhat encouraging faces at you, maybe you really would have. But you don't. You reach over and quietly set down the envelope on the desk in front of him, then you leave.
The love letter delivery continues the next day.
Truthfully, you had no idea what to write now that the words you wanted to say had already been said. You've already expressed how sorry you were, and you'd said before how much you admired him, how you wanted to learn about every part of him. What was left for you to write to him about?
So you tell him about yourself instead—your true self. You tell him about your real major, your roommate Chanhee, your friend Jiwon. Some of your notable memories from childhood. Your favourite books and movies and foods. Then you tell him how the idea for this business started, and how you lost yourself in the process. Being intrigued by him, straying from your plans, and then falling for him. Having this teach you that maybe you weren't better than your targets with red flags all over, and that maybe you weren't better than the ex that put you up to this. You give him a piece of your heart in this letter in the hopes that you could return how much of his he's given you.
You find Younghoon at the student center this time, during the hour-long lunch break between classes. At least he hasn't made any major changes to his routine. You would be in trouble if you couldn't even find him on campus, and maybe then you'd really have to resort to throwing stones on his sixth-floor apartment window.
Younghoon gives no indication of having read the first letter, nor does he look at you when you place it on the table in front of him this time. He leaves it sitting there as he continues eating, and you leave before you could see what he does with it. But at least he's no longer going out of his way to avoid you now—maybe that was a good sign.
The third letter goes over some of your memories together. You write about how grateful you are that he was willing to tutor you, how sorry you are that that part had been fake. The way you wanted to impress him not to make him fall for you, but rather just to see him smile and hear him laugh. The way literature no longer became another boring page for you to read, but rather came to life around you with each word that came out of his mouth.
The fourth letter is conversational. You ask him about his life: what he likes to do for fun, how he spends his spare time. What he's hoping to do after graduation, what he wants to do with his life. What inspires him each day. What made him fall in love with the words across pages. You ask him what love means to him.
When you go to deliver this one to him, what you don't expect is for him to look up at you.
"I wrote you one back," Younghoon holds out the envelope just before you could turn to leave. He quickly goes back to his notes after you take it, but the simple gesture makes your heart quicken tenfold.
"Oh," you manage to get out. "Okay."
Chanhee isn't home when you ultimately decide to open the letter that night. Perhaps it might be better with some moral support around, but you couldn't bear to let him see your tears if the contents are saddening.
Dearest Y/N,
Thank you for your letters. Thank you for being truthful. I appreciate it, truly.
I'll start by saying that I don't hate you. I'm not sure if I forgive you yet, though I'll save that for another time. Ever since meeting you, my life has become a rollercoaster. You've made me so incredibly happy, Y/N. I loved the time that we've spent together and cherished every moment of it. You've taught me to feel an incredible range of emotions that I would've never imagined possible, and you've taught me that it's okay to experience different things and to live life fully without holding back. That being said, I've also felt the lowest of lows when the truth was revealed. It hurt, Y/N. It hurt to know that I wasn't wanted, but it hurt more knowing that someone as lovely as you would do such a cruel thing.
But as much as I wanted to hate you for what you've done, I know that we are not perfect. I know that people make mistakes and that oftentimes, things don't happen the way we intend them to. Maybe you had not intended to love me, but I had also not intended on falling in love with you. Maybe that makes us even.
Thank you for giving me some time and space. I think I'm ready to talk now.
Love always,
Younghoon
"Hi."
"Hi."
When he sits down on the bench beside you, all of the words you'd wanted to say suddenly leave your mind. You'd wanted nothing more than to pull him in and bury yourself in him, to make sure that he's real. That everything the two of you had was tangible. But now there's a tentative silence lingering in the air. It's filled with the chirping of birds in the background and the distant shouts of kids at the playground on the other side of the park, and the warmth of the sun on your face; even if nothing goes well then at least there was something good from today.
"I've missed you, Y/N," Younghoon says softly. An admission that takes you by surprise. "And I'm sorry for what I said to you that time... about. Not falling for you." He gives you a wry smile. "I think you already know by now, but it wasn't true."
"Yeah, but it's okay. I deserved it."
He shakes his head. "You don't need to be so hard on yourself. You're not a bad person, Y/N. Maybe it took some time for you to find yourself again, but you're still you."
Then he goes on to respond to everything you'd written in your letters: he laughs at your memory of dropping your scoop of ice cream with the first lick, and glances at you with worry at the part where you'd fallen out of a tree house in your backyard. A jokingly judgmental face when he questions your taste in books, and a restaurant suggestion when he gets to your favourite foods.
Younghoon doesn't mention the business, however, and it makes you realize that he doesn't need to. Because it's not something that's essential to who you are as a person and shouldn't be a part of your identity. The way his eyes light up when talking about the other parts of your life is enough to reassure you of that.
He answers all the questions you'd asked him too. He tells you about being in a city far from home, drowning himself in studies and hiding himself between the pages of books. Losing inspiration and then finding it again in people and in the beauty of the simple things in everyday life. Feeling lost in life and then realizing that maybe he's exactly where he's meant to be.
Younghoon hesitates when he gets to your last question. What love means to him.
"Honestly, aren't we all trying to figure that out?" he says thoughtfully. "I don't think it can be defined in just one way; it's something that we learn a little more about each day. The stories we live to tell and the events that shape our lives—they may teach us to love the world a little more, and by extension, each other. So in a way, love can be anything you want it to be."
You nod slowly, letting the words sink in. Feeling a wave of admiration wash over you again at the reminder of what made you fall for him in the first place.
His voice is barely audible when he asks, "What do you want it to be, Y/N?"
"I—"
This was something you hadn't thought about in a long time. With all of your recent relationships being fake, you'd not only lost your sense of self but also your definition of love. Your mind blanks and it doesn't help that each moment in the lingering silence sends your stomach into a frenzy of butterflies and makes your heart jump out of your chest. But when you see how he gazes at you so patiently, so lovingly, the answer becomes quite clear to you.
"I want it to be with you." You pause, trying to organize your words. They're cheesy and might've been something that would've made you cringe before, but now they feel right. "Dancing in the kitchen with you at midnight, as I ignore my roommate's texts. Having your face be the first thing I see when I wake up, and the last thing I see before I fall asleep. And well, coming home to you would be a much better sight that having Chanhee glare at me from across the living room."
Younghoon bursts out laughing. "Why am I getting the feeling that you hate him more than you like me?"
And then you join him, laughing freely until your stomach is hurting.
"But Younghoon, I don't just like you. There may be a million people out there and maybe we could've simply been nothing to each other. But it's the time that we spent together that has made you so special to me. And maybe there are millions of roses in the world, but you're my only one, unique rose."
You no longer have to fake your nervousness when it's now real. The heat on your cheeks and the loud thuds of your heart are enough to prove that this was never just a fake relationship—it was never fake when he means so much to you that you want to scream it from the rooftops until he finally knows.
When you see the way Younghoon presses his lips together as if holding back the grin that threatens to break on his face, you take it as a good sign. So you do tell him.
"And I want to be responsible for your heart, if you would let me."
This time, he gives in to the smile on his lips and his whole face lights up. "Y/N, you don't have to ask when it was already yours to begin with. Just take care of it, okay?"
"I will. I promise."
And despite the way you already have his heart, you can still see him continue to give you more of it. He gives you a tiny piece when he pulls you closer, and another when he wraps you in his arms like he can't stand another minute of being apart. The angle is awkward, your knees bump, and you have to twist your neck a little, but everything fades into the background once you meet his warm lips halfway.
He tastes sweeter than you remembered; the faint sweetness that had lingered on your tongue and then in your mind for much longer. And he gives in to you easily. He gives you the little fragments of a heart that you'd broken, piece by piece until they stitch themselves together and become whole again.
A high-pitched scream sounds in the distance, making you pull apart immediately. When you turn to look, there's a little girl running across the field in front of you followed by her group of friends.
"Ew, cooties!" she screams, laughing as she runs.
"Um. Let's take this elsewhere, yeah?" Younghoon says with a laugh. "Don't want to be scarring the kids for life."
You can't help the grin that creeps onto your face. "Good idea," you nod, "lead the way."
When you go to text Chanhee about not going home tonight, there's no longer any dread or fear since your update is no longer for some sort of mission. This time when you text him, you thank him for the idea of the love letters and let him know just how in love you are. He sends the vomit emoji back, but even that puts a smile on your face when your heart was blooming with warmth.