Archive of Our Own

He’s been with you since the breakup. Which is to say, he’s been here since last night, curled up on your couch. It’s a comfortable couch at least. Perfect for sprawling across in a fit of despair, which is what he’s doing now.

Your even voice breaks through his haze. “Cheol, you didn’t even like her very much.”

Didn’t he? He tries to remember Jihyun and all his favorite parts of her, but all he can conjure up is the way she’d douse herself in body spray every spare second. She smelled like she’d stumbled into a perfumery and knocked down every shelf on the way in.

So you’re right, he didn’t really like that about her. Or how she snapped her gum or turned her cheek when he tried to kiss her in public. Or–okay, he doesn’t like how long this list is getting, either.

She liked him, that’s what was most important. He doesn’t appreciate how calm you are about the entire situation. He’s got the worst dating luck and you, someone who barely dates, have no right to judge him over it.

Which isn’t to say you’ve been heartless. After all, you let him in at 11 p.m., morose and whining. Made him ramyeon with a soft-boiled egg and extra green onions on top, just the way he likes it. Sat up way too late with him while he groused and moaned and leaned on your shoulder most of the night.

His grief over losing Jihyun seems to have worn out its welcome already though, given how you’re surfing your phone instead of listening to him. He should go. He doesn’t want to.

“I’m alone,” he says, slumping deeper into the couch. “On Valentine’s Day.”

“So am I,” you point out. “You don’t hear me whining about it.”

But Seungcheol doesn’t care about your loneliness. Instead, he pulls a throw pillow over his face and groans into it. “This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. I should be with the love of my life.”

“Ouch.”

“Sorry. It’s just….” He’s not used to being alone and never on such a crucial holiday. He had a plan. There were going to be flowers and chocolates and–the jewelry, shit. There’s a very expensive bracelet sitting on his coffee table at home that needs to be returned now. He groans deeper.

Going over to him, you nudge his ankle with your foot. “Well. You’ve got me. So let’s go.”

He lowers the pillow to peer at you, lips jutting out in a full pout. “Go where?”

“I’m going to take you out for Valentine’s Day.”

Now you’re just making fun of him. “Be serious.”

But you’re not laughing. “I am. You don’t want to be alone and neither do I. So we’re going to spend the day together. Now get up and let’s go.” You clap your hands loudly a few times. It’s a terrible sound and it propels him from the couch, if only to get away from it.

“I don’t have any nice clothes,” he points out, pulling at the oversized hoodie he’s stolen from the stash he keeps at your place. The fact that he even has a stash at all makes him rethink how many breakups he’s had. The clothes have been here long enough to even smell like you.

“You’ll be wearing your jacket most of the day, it’s fine. I’m going out like this.” You show off your knitted sweater with the small hole in the side seam, the one you keep saying you’re going to learn to fix yourself and still haven’t. “We’ll be sadness twins.”

You don’t seem very sad. In fact, you’re smiling to yourself as you zip up your boots and pull on a hat.

“Maybe I should just go home.”

“Maybe you should shut up,” you say pleasantly, tucking your mittened hand into the crook of his arm. “We’re going to have fun and that’s final.”

He’s not convinced, but he follows your lead outside anyway. It’s not snowing at least, but the wind chill is shocking after the comfort of your apartment.

“Don’t fall in love with me today.”

“What?” 

You’re teasing him, he knows that. The two of you have been friends for years–there’s no risk of him falling in love. Sure, he loves the way your hair smells when you stand close to him, and sure, he hates every guy you’ve ever dated, but that’s because you’re his friend. He wants you to be with someone worth your while. And you use nice shampoo. He can smell a hint of it on his hoodie somehow.

You give him an impish grin. “You heard me.”

“I heard you speaking nonsense.” It’s freezing out here. He snuggles his face deeper into his coat, trying to ignore how the sharp air nips at his nose and cheeks. He just wants to go back to your couch. Maybe convince you to make him another bowl of ramyeon. Who cares about daily sodium intake after a breakup?

But you’re plowing ahead like a sled dog with a goal. Seungcheol can’t do much besides stagger along after you.

“Where are we going?”

As he follows you, he recognizes that most of the buildings you pass are coffee shops. Busan is full of trendy cafes and he’s been to many of them with you. It’s become a game to find a new cafe and share it with each other. Sure enough, you stop pulling him along in front of one. The inside looks mostly full, but it also looks warm. This is fine. You’ll get a coffee together and go back home. He can handle that.

It’s gloriously warm inside and fragrant with the smell of roasted coffee and sugar. He feels his shoulders relax immediately. A nice hot Americano will improve his mood for sure.

Except you say, “You can’t order an Americano.”

“What? But that’s what I always get,” he points out. You know this.

“Too bad. You have to order something different. Something fun.”

“Hang on–”

“Think fast! It’s almost our turn!”

His eyes scan the menu in a panic. He’s still looking as you step up to the register and order a pistachio latte. The word “Americano” is on the tip of his tongue but you’re already giving him a warning look as the cashier waits on him.

“Tiramisu latte,” he blurts out, much to the amusement of the cashier.

She rings it up and you rest your card on the reader before he’s even had a chance to process.

“Wait–”

“Thanks so much!” you call out, pulling him away to an empty table. 

“Wait,” he tries feebly. “I’m supposed to pay.”

“Don’t be silly. I’m taking you out, remember?”

He remembers, but there’s a process, a specific order to how these things go. You force him into a chair and go back to wait for the coffee. He’s got nothing else to do besides look around at the couples happily sequestered in the cafe. Everyone’s got bags near their feet, or flowers on their tables. Everyone is also dressed nicely and smiling as they sip their drinks together.

Maybe Jihyun is out dressed up and drinking coffee with someone new already. She implied she already had a better option; why else would she leave him before Valentine’s Day?

Nope. This is just making him feel worse.

Before he can get up, you return, thunking down a tray. On it are the two drinks, along with a slice of chocolate cake.

“More sugar?”

“Doesn’t it look delicious?” you ask. “I saw it in the case while I was waiting and I knew we had to try it. Ferrero Rocher cake!”

“I’m going to have a blood sugar spike,” he replies, staring glumly at the small table packed with sweets.

“You’re going to need the energy,” is your cryptic response. You take a sip of your latte, immediately getting foam along your lip. 

He’s busy watching the entrance though, where yet another pretty couple is entering. The woman has a bouquet of pink roses in her arms and she looks thrilled to have them. Seungcheol sighs, absently picking up his cup.

Except you’re out of your chair again. “Wait here!”

“What are you doing?

“You’ll see.” 

You hurry past the couple and out the door. Your mittens are still on the table, along with your coffee. What are you doing?

He can see you from the window as you rush across the street and disappear into a shop. He leans a little further out of his chair to see the sign. It’s a florist’s. What the hell are you doing at a florist shop when you’re supposed to be here tanking your pancreas with him?

You burst out of the shop again a few minutes later, this time with a huge bouquet of roses in your arms. Oh, he thinks suddenly. Oh no.

You cannot be bringing those into the store and definitely not for him. Except you are. You’re all smiles as you re-enter the coffee shop. He can feel everyone’s eyes on him as you present him with the massive bouquet. “What are you doing?”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetie,” you croon.

Seungcheol’s face is on fire. “I can’t take those!”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m supposed to give them to you!”

“Not today you aren’t,” you reply easily. “Now take your flowers, please.”

There’s no space to set them on the table, so he tucks them into the crook of his arm instead, feeling absolutely ridiculous. The intense scent of roses wafts up to him, overwhelming the smell of coffee. They’re beautiful: pink, white, and red, all wrapped up in a pristine ribbon and sparkling white tissue.

He’s mortified.

You’re busy helping yourself to cake. “This is so good. You’ve got to try some.”

“Don’t–” You take advantage of his open mouth and feed a forkful of cake into it. Seungcheol chews at it hurriedly. “You don’t need to feed me!”

“I thought you liked that kind of romantic stuff.”

“Not with us. And it’s supposed to be the other way around.”

You shrug and scoop another bit of cake into your mouth.

What is with you today? You’re leaning into the adoring girlfriend role far too hard. When he sets his coffee down (which is delicious, if insanely sweet), you make grabby hands for his cup. Yours is too nutty and savory for him and he immediately passes it back. You continue holding his hostage.

“Hira.”

“I’m almost done.”

He motions for it back with his free hand and you reluctantly pass it over, then comfort yourself with more cake.

It’s silly. He finds himself relaxing nonetheless. If it wasn’t for the flowers, this would feel almost normal. He had his second meeting with you in a cafe just like this one. Since then, the two of you have tried so many new coffee shops together. This one, he realizes, is also new. You must have saved it for the next opportunity.

But he needs real food, not just sweets. It’s been a long time since last night’s ramyeon.

“You’ll get a meal,” you promise him as you scrap the cake plate clean. “We’re just switching up the order a bit today, don’t worry.”

You end up returning the used dishes because his arms are a bit full.

“Please take the flowers.”

“They’re yours though.”

“I can’t carry these around all day!”

“Why not?”
“I’m going to look like an asshole,” he protests.

Grinning again, you respond, “No, you’re going to look like the pretty princess that you are. Now finish your coffee. We gotta get to the next place on time.”

“Is there a schedule?”

“Of course.”

“And I have to carry these all day?”

If you smile any harder you’re going to hurt yourself, he thinks sullenly. “Of course.”

If he ignores how insufferable you are about this, it is nice to carry around the flowers. All his life he’s bought the flowers, never received them before. He doesn’t even own a vase. 

It’s also nice to have you at his side. Your hand resting on his bicep, the hint of warmth from having your body so close–all of these are a comfort. He doesn’t mind being back out in the cold so much like this. It almost feels like a real date.

The next building you stop in front of is blindingly bright. There’s a ruckus of light and sound from the gacha games and machines that can be heard from outside.

He calls your name warningly, but you’re already pulling open the door. Here, too, is filled with couples. Partners lean close to each other as they try to win prizes from the chirping and singing machines filling the space. More than one person walks past Seungcheol with their arms wrapped around a massive plushie.

“Now what?” he asks as you stop in front of a claw machine filled to the brim with teddy bears. 

“I’m going to win you a stuffed animal to go along with your roses. What do you think about a bear? Classic, but overdone?” Your eyes gleam as they spot the next machine. “How about a stuffed shark?”

“Hira, no.”

But you’re already putting coins into the machine.

The claw springs to life as you jog the joystick over your prey. Your first attempt is a total failure. The second attempt catches the tail of the shark, but drops it almost immediately. Huffing, you feed the machine more coins. 

“I really don't need a shark,” he says. 

“What about a giraffe?” You scoot the claw in the direction of your new target. 

That goes just as poorly though, the long neck slipping out of the claw's weak grip. 

He wonders just how long you can keep this up. It’s embarrassing, but also kind of funny now. And he appreciates your dedication to the bit.

“Maybe you should let it go,” he advises as you miss again. “I can’t watch you spend your money like this.”

“Ugh!” Grumbling, you head over to another claw machine and shove a few more coins into it. He gamely follows you.

This one has smaller toys inside of it, ones that can fit into the radius of the claw. You have to win something this time, otherwise he really can’t let you continue. The claw clamps down around a chunk of fuzz and carries it over to the chute.

“Yes!”

It’s the tiniest bunny, a stuffed toy that fits in the palm of his large hand. But you did what you said you would do and you look so pleased as you present it to him that he can’t help but smile.

“My hero,” he teases.

He tucks it into the front of the bouquet, amused by your delight. “Now what?”

“Surprise wedding?”

“If you wanted to propose, you should have won me the shark.”

“Good to know,” you laugh. 

You tuck your hand back into the crook of his arm and lead him out, gently this time. Some of your initial urgency has left you, but you’re still the one in charge. There’s a place nearby selling couples clothing and jewelry, but you turn away after a brief longing look. It’s too busy inside with real couples. He’s a bit relieved–after all, that would be taking things too far. But it’s still nice knowing that’s something you’d like to do. Maybe he can pass the information on to a future partner of yours, if you ever find someone worth dating.

The few relationships he knows about crashed and burned within weeks. It’s been a long time since you’ve mentioned anyone new. Selfishly, he’s glad you’re single right now. He can’t imagine having to be alone today.

With you pressed against his side like an actual girlfriend would be, he can almost imagine this is real. And why not? It doesn’t hurt anyone. After today you’ll go back to being just friends. This is a bit of fun, something to comfort the two of you, so why not lean into it?

Even with the cold, there are a lot of street vendors out trying to capitalize on the holiday. You pause in front of a tiny stall selling bracelets in a variety of colors. The vendor perks up a bit, raising herself up out of her burrowed form.

“They’re all beaded by hand. By me.”

They’re pretty, if a little clumsy. Seungcheol searches the rows of bracelets for a match since you seem so fixated on them. The vendor seems to realize what he’s looking for.

“No two are the same,” she explains.

Seungcheol can see why her stall isn’t very busy. Couples want matching trinkets, not unique ones. It’s not a very sound business idea. You’re busy examining the bracelets, gently holding them up to each other.

“Let me buy these ones,” he says, struggling to free his wallet without tipping the roses onto the ground. He knows that look in your eye, knows that you can’t abide passing up this stall. You’ve always had a soft heart for the small, the ignored, the overlooked. You won’t leave without bracelets, so he should at least contribute to the day.

You choose a white and red one for him, with tiny iridescent crystals placed neatly between the larger beads. For you he picks a delicate pastel rainbow, bright and cheery to match your disposition today. You help each other slip them on and admire them in front of the vendor, whose cheeks have gone pink with joy.

“Thank you so much,” she whispers, adjusting the rest of the bracelets to fill the spaces.

Seungcheol already knows that if you see her again, you’re going to buy more. It’s just how you are.

Hefting the roses into a more comfortable position, he places your mittened hand back into the crook of his arm. “Okay. What next?”

“Kalguksu!”

He could use something hot and savory after all that sugar. There are fewer couples at the market, likely opting for fancier restaurants given the holiday, but Seungcheol doesn’t mind. He’s had many good meals at markets just like this one and you’re a pro at finding hole-in-the-wall restaurants that are more delicious than anything along the main street.

Even in the cold, vendors are set up along the winding alleys and paths through the marketplace. Some have portable heaters and all are bundled up against the chill. Many of them call out to the two of you despite the cold, trying to entice you to slow and shop.

A man selling vintage electronics is sitting up against his shop, looking bored. His eyes rove across the people milling past before settling on you.

“Hey! Hey pretty lady!”

You pause, pointing at yourself. He nods rapidly. 

Inwardly, Seungcheol groans. He absolutely is not going to let you spend any money at this idiot’s shop.

But the guy doesn’t want you as a customer. He just wants your attention.

“Give me a try, won’t you?” calls the guy, grinning wildly. “I can win you a bigger stuffed animal than that.”

Fury surges through Seungcheol’s chest like a wave. The arrogance of this man, thinking that Seungcheol would settle for winning you such a small toy! If he were taking you out today, only the biggest, softest stuffed animal would satisfy him. After all, you deserve the absolute best of the best and it doesn’t take a stranger to recognize it.

Similarly, he’s angry that this idiot is judging your hard work. His bunny may be small, but it’s cute and you won it specially for him with a good heart. He’s ready to curse the guy out in the middle of the market, but you stop him.

“I won it for him!” you shout back, leaving the guy with a perplexed expression. Giggling, you pull Seungcheol along, ignoring the man’s bewildered attempts at a comeback.

“Calm down,” you tell Seungcheol. “You’re all puffed up like an angry peacock.”

He’s not sure he appreciates the comparison. “I hate guys like that.”

“Yeah, but he’s just an idiot. Oh! This is the place!”

As expected, it’s a slim door with nothing special about it. Inside is sparse but warm, the air filled with the savory scent of anchovy broth and flour. Seungcheol can see a chef in the back making the knife-cut noodles from scratch. Oh, so this is definitely going to be good.

There’s a menu pasted to the wall, the faded prices taped over and new ones written in marker. Only five items are listed, three of which are soup.

You call out an order and he lets you. After all, you know him well and you know what he’ll like. He’s happy to follow your lead when it comes to food.

Seungcheol sets the flowers and toy on the far end of the table.

“It is tiny,” you admit, tapping the bunny’s nose. “I really did want to win you a big one.”

“It’s perfect,” he insists. “I love it.”

He does. No one’s ever won him a plushie just like no one has ever bought him flowers before. Until today. Until you.

He watches you wind your hair back so you can slurp noodles comfortably and feels an aching fondness. Have you always been this pretty? Maybe he shouldn’t be surprised that market guys are cat-calling you.

The owner comes by with two huge, steaming bowls of soup. She thunks them down on the table, the broth rising dangerously close to the edge for a second before settling again. Before you can thank her she’s disappeared again, only to return with a plate of warm, handmade dumplings you didn’t order.

“You two are cute,” she explains, with the same stern expression that leaves no room for argument. 

You bow your heads in thanks to her, which she accepts with little reaction. 

“This is like the fifth place to do this,” he whispers after the owner has left.

“I guess we are just really cute together,” you whisper back, lifting a dumpling to your mouth. Your expression brightens after the first bite. Holding your hand to hide your chewing, you say, “These are amazing!”

“Don’t let your noodles get soggy!” shouts the owner where she’s watching you from the kitchen with the chef, who Seungcheol assumes is her husband. Thankfully, another group of customers enter, protecting the two of you from further scrutiny.

You obediently twist the noodles up onto your spoon, sighing with pleasure. “Just how I remember it.”

Seungcheol has no previous visit to compare it to, but it’s the best bowl of kalguksu he’s had in years. He attacks the noodles with fervor, letting the hot broth defrost his chilled body from the inside out.

“How come you’ve never told me about this place?”

“Hm? I’ve wanted to take you for a while, but you’re always busy.”

Right. With Jihyun. In fact, he’s barely made any time for you at all. Between work and dating, he doesn’t have much time to spare. It’s only now that he’s realizing how shitty that is.

Before showing up at your door last night, he hadn’t seen you in almost a month. A sad, lonely, frustrating month. He’s only now realizing just how much being around you cheers him up, especially in these grey months.

You’re busy twirling noodles onto your long spoon, humming a little to yourself. He smiles as he watches you for a moment.

If he had a girlfriend like you…

It’s a crazy thought. You’re a good friend–no, a great friend–cheering him up after a breakup. Imagining you as more than that is dangerous. If you had any interest in him, he’d know by now. Seungcheol isn’t about to let himself get swept up in the moment and have his heart broken twice.

He focuses on his own soup. The dumplings are also delicious; it doesn’t take long to clear the table. He leans back with a contented sigh, feeling renewed. 

“Better than moping on my couch, huh?” you tease.

“Much better,” he agrees. “Though either way I’d get to be with you.”

A strange expression crosses your face then, something almost sad that he can’t define. It’s only for a moment before you’re back to your cheerful self.

Before he can stop you, you’ve leapt out of your seat to go pay.

“You’ve got to stop doing that,” he scolds you when you return.

“You can take me out next time.”

He’s not sure what you mean by next time. He hopes you’re not expecting the two of you to be single again next year–he’s not sure he can handle it. Though if it means another day like this, spent with you, maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.

He scoops his flowers and bunny back into his arms.

You take the long way out of the market, languid and cozy from a delicious meal.

“I can’t believe you really bought me roses.”

“Why not? Boys deserve flowers, too.”

“It’s just…” How does he explain that he’s done nothing for you today besides whine? You deserve more than this. He wants to treat you like a princess, too.

“Oh! Book Street!” you cry out.

You’re standing at the entrance of Bosu Book Street, a narrow path packed with bookshops. He’s been through it once before, a long time ago. It made an impression on him even as someone who doesn’t read much, but you’re looking down the alley with palpable longing.

“Let’s go.”

“But today is about you,” you protest. “You don’t care about old books.”

“I care about you,” he replies, nudging you towards the entrance. “Let’s go look.”

You make it past three shops before caving before a massive stack of vintage hardcovers. Seungcheol can’t recognize any of the titles, but you must, because you pull each one up with a gasp. 

“Look!” you show him and he nods accordingly. You move deeper into the shop. At this rate he thinks the bookstore might swallow you whole and you wouldn’t mind.

There’s another guy with his arms full of flowers and gifts. He gives Seungcheol a tired look to commiserate. You’re elbow deep in books and rapid conversation with another woman who Seungcheol assumes is the guy’s partner.

“As long as they’re happy, right?” asks the guy.

“Right,” Seungcheol agrees.

And you do look happy, parsing through the old books with delight. You’ve got a small pile that’s getting larger by the second. Seungcheol wonders if he should try and stop you. After all, you still have to carry all the books home.

The guy across from him must have the same idea. He’s got a huge stuffed teddy bear in his arms and a bouquet of red roses, along with a fancy cake in a heavily embossed box. He doesn’t look like he has space for any of the books his partner is currently sorting through.

His eyes dart over Seungcheol’s gifts for a moment.

“That looks much easier to carry,” the guy remarks, though not without a hint of arrogance. It makes Seungcheol smile.

“They’re for me,” he explains. “She bought them for me.”

The guy looks perplexed by this, even though it’s not against tradition for guys to receive gifts today. Still, only a few hours ago, Seungcheol would have been embarrassed to admit it. Now, he’s proud.

You return to him with a bag holding several wrapped books and a wide smile. “All done.”

“You sure?”

“My wallet says so.”

Your wallet has taken a lot of hits today. He’s going to have to do a lot to make it up to you.

The two of you move through the rest of the book street. Occasionally, you stop to study something, but your wallet remains otherwise safe. When you exit the other side of the street, Seungcheol stops you.

“Hey. Thank you for this. For spending your day with me.”

“It’s much better than what I was going to be doing,” you reply. “Eating takeout and watching YouTube all night is fine sometimes, but not great on Valentine’s Day.”

He doesn’t like thinking about you being alone like that. You deserve this: the flowers, the fancy coffee, delicious noodles, joy. More than anything, he likes seeing you happy. He likes you holding his arm, being close by his side. He hasn’t thought about Jihyun in hours and honestly, he doesn’t care.

At this rate he really is going to fall in love with you.

Before he can say something, you take off for a stone path that leads…to the beach. Are you insane?

“You aren’t,” he accuses you as he takes a few long strides to catch up.

“Of course we are!”

He doesn’t know how you still have energy, but you clamber down the stairs towards the beach like a child released from a stuffy car after a road trip. You throw your arms up as you jump the final few steps straight into the sand.

“It’s freezing,” he calls out.

“So what?” you shout back over the waves. “You’ve got a jacket!”

He’s also got a beanie, but that doesn’t make him any less cold. The air near the water is absolutely frigid; even his eyelashes are frozen. Still, he trudges through the sand towards a huge chunk of driftwood that you’ve claimed as a bench. Phone in hand, you’re snapping pictures of his approach like he’s some kind of celebrity.

“Pose for me!”

“No!”

Lowering your phone, you glower at him. “Choi Seungcheol, I paid a lot of money for those roses. Now pose.”

There’s nothing he can say back to that, so he smiles obediently instead. There’s even couples out here, braving the freezing weather to get their Instagram-worthy photos together. None of them are doing what you’re doing though: crouching and leaning in exaggerated poses to get a perfect shot. It makes him laugh, which, he realizes belatedly, was exactly the point. 

So he leans into it, showing off his roses, holding the bunny in his gloved hands and hiding his face behind it. He doesn’t care anymore who might be watching.

You hurry over to his side, raising your phone high to snap a few awkward photos before he relieves you of your burden, using his height to his advantage. “How’s that?” he asks, passing your phone back.

“Much better, thank you!”

You retreat back to the driftwood together. Seungcheol tucks the roses into a divot; the stuffed bunny is safely sequestered in his coat pocket now. You swipe through the photos, tapping the heart to mark your favorites. There are a lot of favorites.

When you’re done, you brace your hands on the driftwood and stare out at the water. The sound of the waves is soothing; out in the distance, he can see lights winking on as the winter sun prepares to set. It’s beautiful out here despite the cold. And if it wasn’t for you, he would have missed all of this today.

He can’t help but glance over at you, at how radiant you look in the soft afternoon light. You haven’t stumbled once today in your mission to cheer him up.

“You look happy,” he says.

“I am,” is your easy reply. You glance over at him with a bright smile. “Getting to spend time with you is always the best.”

He thinks you truly mean that. After so many failed relationships, the thought that he could be special to someone has become almost foreign. That someone could value and desire him. And you make caring for him seem so easy. So why has it been so hard before?

Your smile falters as his silence drags on. “Am I annoying you? Is today awful?”

“What? No! Today…” Is the best day I’ve had in a long time. “I think this is the best Valentine’s Day I could have asked for. Really.”

Relief washes over you. “I’m glad. I want you to feel loved.”

“I do,” he assures you. “I can’t believe you pulled off such a wonderful day on short notice like this.”

But you shock him by saying, “I’ve had a long time to think about what I’d do if I ever got to take you on a date.”

He’s about to laugh until he realizes you’re not joking. You’re still smiling, but there’s something sad about it as you look out towards the ocean again.

“We met in February, remember?” you ask him. “At Jeonghan’s party. Soonyoung spilled wine all over my coat and you gave me yours, told me to wear it home. Said you ran hot. You must have been so cold, but you lied to me, practically a stranger, and I let you.”

He remembers. You were so kind to Soonyoung, who was drunk out of his mind, but Seungcheol could see your despair as you held your wine-soaked jacket away from your body. He couldn’t let you travel home like that. He’d offered you his coat without thinking, but he was glad he had even as he shivered and sniffled going home. After all, you were so pretty and he wanted to see more of you.

“Your coat smelled so good. I didn’t want to give it back, but I wanted to see you again so I called you up the next day and offered to return it. To treat you to coffee as a thank you.”

He remembers that, too. You talked for hours together, actual hours. His ass was so numb by the time he got up he almost fell over and he hadn’t even noticed.

  Shifting a little on the log, you continue. “I called Jeonghan after I got home and cursed him out for introducing you to me. ‘He’s the one for me,’ I told him. ‘He’s perfect and he’s going to ruin my life.’”

It’s a startling thing to hear. “Why ruin your life?”

But he knows why before you even say it.

“Because Soonja. And Eunha and Sohee and–”

“Jihyun,” he finishes.

You turn your sad smile towards him. “There’s always someone else for you. So I figured hey, why not take advantage of today? I doubt I’ll get another chance.”

How long, he wonders. How long have you quietly watched him go from one bad relationship to another, searching blindly for his soulmate when you’ve been here the whole time? He’s not sure he wants the answer.

He could have asked you out at that coffee shop years ago. Maybe even would have, if he hadn’t already agreed to a blind date with Soonja. By the time that relationship ended your friendship was firmly entrenched and he didn’t even consider you an option anymore.

He’s an idiot. And you’ve given him the best Valentine’s Day–hell, the best date–he’s ever had. And all he’s given you in return is heartbreak.

“Hira…”

Reaching out, you pat his knee. “It got your mind off of things for a while though, right? Sorry, I ruined it.”

“You didn’t ruin it.”

“You don’t have to be nice. I know your feelings aren’t the same. It’s okay, really.”

“You don’t know my feelings.”

But you don’t want to hear him. You shake your head, smile fading.

Turning his body towards you, Seungcheol says, “Hira, I’m serious. All day I’ve been thinking, ‘God, I wish I was lucky enough to date her.’”

“That’s not the same as having feelings for me. You’ve had a fun day and I’ve spoiled you, that’s all.”

“That’s not all. I want more than this. I want more of this. I want…to kiss you,” he realizes.

Your head jerks up to meet his gaze and there’s no more of the joy from before. “No.”

Has he misunderstood your confession? After all those words are you just a really good friend trying to cheer him up and he’s the one getting his signals crossed and making things weird? That seems impossible, so why…?

“It’s Valentine’s Day,” you explain, your hand still resting on his knee. “You’re all caught up in your feelings now, but how do you know you’re still going to feel them tomorrow?”

“You think I’m really that fickle? That I’d drag you along like that?”

“I think you might not know yourself.”

“I know myself,” he retorts. “And I know that I’ve realized things today about me, about us, that I’ve known deep down for a long time. They’re true now and they’ll still be true tomorrow.”

“Then you can kiss me tomorrow,” you say softly. He can see the longing in your gaze now and it soothes his heart. 

One day. He can wait one more day; after all, he’s waited this long.

The lights across the water are plentiful now. It’s getting harder to see you and the other couples are almost completely gone from the beach.

“It’s getting dark.”

“I’m cold,” you admit. 

“Let me take you home then.”

The two of you catch the light rail back to your apartment. It lets you out close enough for just a short walk; Seungcheol pulls your hand back onto his arm as you walk. Much to his relief, you don’t pull away.

The time, which has suddenly become so precious, passes quickly. Before he knows it, he’s standing outside your door. 

“Can I stay?”

“Cheol…”

“I know. I can’t kiss you until tomorrow. But today is still Valentine’s Day and neither of us want to be alone, right? I’ll stay on the couch again, I swear.”

But you smile, tapping his lips with your finger. “You’re dangerous. Go home. If you still want to kiss me tomorrow, you can come back then.”

“Fine,” he says, mouth burning where you’ve touched him. “I’ll be back soon.”

“We’ll see.”

You and your books disappear inside. He hovers for a moment longer before finally making the cold trek to his own apartment. There are fewer people on the street in the dark. Busan is lit up prettily. As he walks, he can see the restaurants and cafes are filled to the brim now. The street vendors are gone; his bracelet still catches the lights as he passes them.

The roses are starting to look a bit sad after their long day out. At home, he finds an old pasta sauce jar that’s just wide enough to fit them. Tomorrow he’ll get a proper vase. After he kisses you.

Anticipation thrums in his veins. There are still too many hours until morning and he doesn’t know what to do with himself. 

He eats. What he eats, he can’t remember, but it’s been a long time since the kalguksu and he’s done a lot of walking. You were right about him needing that sugar. You were right about a lot of things. If he’d only listened earlier, the two of you could be curled up together now.

The two of you. He likes the thought, is enamored with it in a way he didn’t know he could be. How was it so difficult to imagine before?

He needs an objective opinion because it’s impossible to think straight anymore. Without considering the day or the time, he calls the one person he knows he can trust besides you.

“This better be an emergency,” says Jeonghan after three rings. “Because my gorgeous husband is making me a gorgeous dinner right now and I do not have time to talk to you.”

“Hira,” Seungcheol says without preamble. “Is she in love with me?”

Jeonghan goes quiet for a moment. “Why are you asking?”

“Because it’s important. Because I think I’ve been a moron this entire time.”

His friend chuckles softly. “Oh, you’ve definitely been a moron. You’re being a moron right now. It’s Valentine’s Day, Cheol. Get the fuck off my phone.” 

“But how do I know–?”

It’s too late. Jeonghan has already hung up.

It doesn’t matter. Seungcheol knows how he feels. You’ve said how you feel. He’s simply looking for someone to tell him that what he’s feeling is right. Sensible. Not motivated by a sudden heartbreak. Except he’s barely thought of Jihyun all day and he certainly doesn’t want to think about her now. 

All he can think about is you.

He tries to sleep. Dozes here and there, seeing the hours on the clock go by one by one. It’s tomorrow, he thinks, after it passes midnight. He doesn’t think you’ll appreciate him showing up at your door at an ungodly hour though.

Except at 4:45 a.m. he throws himself out of bed, unable to stand it anymore. He drags on his coat with the bunny still in his pocket.  Nothing is open–he can’t show up to your door with roses and candy and gifts. All he has is the unshakeable knowledge that he loves you. He has to hope that’s enough.

He’s managed the coat but not gloves, shows up to your front door with shaking hands and a trembling heart. It’s only as he’s knocking that he becomes painfully aware of how early it is. You peer out at him with half-closed eyes and gently mussed hair.

“Cheol? Wha–?”

“It’s tomorrow,” he says impatiently. 

“Yeah, I know. It’s five a.m…” you reply, voice trailing off as you realize what he means.

“It’s tomorrow and I still want to kiss you. So can I?”

You laugh into your hands. “Cheol, I’m in my pajamas.”

He flashes you a glimpse of his sweatpants hidden under his winter coat. “So am I. Please?”

“You don’t have to do this.”

“I’ve been up all night trying to understand my feelings towards you and I…am such a fucking idiot, Hira. You’re the person I want to go to when something good happens. You’re the first person I think of when I’m upset. Your smile makes me smile. I feel your happiness in my chest every time.”

He brushes his hand over his heart for emphasis.

“I have to do this. I have to make you understand what I finally understand–that you are my person. Have been. I called Jeonghan to ask him if I was crazy and he hung up on me. I…” He trails off into a weak laugh. 

“I’m not crazy. Or maybe I am. I want to see you happy again, like yesterday. I want to make you smile.”

It’s a messy speech but he’s a mess. He hasn’t brushed his own hair yet, feels it tangled over his forehead.

You reach out and rest your hand on the back of his neck, guiding him closer. The warmth of your lips is a balm for his chilled ones, sending a rush of heat through his body, revitalizing him. Seungcheol feels his eyelids flutter closed as he leans into the kiss, hands on your waist, not daring to go further.

The realization hits him hard. That’s how this happened in the first place, because he was too much of a coward to make a move when he should have. Gripping your hips, he lifts you up, hearing your muffled squeak as he carries you backwards into your apartment. He nudges the door shut as you pull away.

“What was that?”

“I don’t want to hesitate anymore.”

“Oh. Me neither.”

The next kiss is deeper, the two of you falling into sync. You must have been up late, too, because he can still faintly taste your toothpaste on the curve of your tongue as it brushes his. Fuck, who knew you’d kiss so well? Every second of this is worth every hour he’s spent awake.

“Next Valentine’s Day you won’t be alone. I’ll do it right.”

A smile warms your sleepy face. “Yeah? You think you can keep up with me?”

“I’ll give it my best shot.”

You lean forward to nuzzle against his neck. “Cheol.”

“Hm?”

“I’m so tired. I want to go back to bed.”

Right. It’s still painfully early and neither of you have slept much. He can’t bring himself to let you go yet though.

“Can I stay? On the couch?”

“You can stay,” you confirm, voice just a murmur against his coat. You’re already drifting off. “But you don’t have to sleep on the couch.”

His heart thumps hard in his chest. “Then can I take us to bed?”

“Mhm.”

There’s still a hint of your body heat left in your sheets as he pulls them over the two of you. Immediately, you scoot yourself closer to him, tucking your head against his chest like you’ve done it a million times before. Seungcheol tugs the thick down comforter up and over you.

“Comfy?”

“Mm…”

He kisses the top of your head, rests his chin against your hair. “Sleep well, baby.”

It won’t be long until dawn now, but it doesn’t matter. Here, wrapped up in each other like you’re supposed to be, he follows you to sleep.