Jihan
As the night stretches on, I start to notice it in small ways first.
Wonbin doesn’t stray far from me anymore—not even when people call his name or tap his shoulder to say their goodbyes.
He always circles back, always ends up beside me again, like it’s instinct.
When someone unfamiliar approaches, he’s already there, introducing me before I can even think of what to say.
His hand rests lightly against my back when the crowd presses in, warm and grounding, like he’s anchoring me in place.
“You okay?” he murmurs more than once, leaning close enough that only I can hear him.
I nod every time, because I am.
More than okay.
I feel… cared for.
Seen.
At one point, he guides me gently through a cluster of people, fingers brushing my arm as he leads me forward.
Later, when the music swells again, he leans in to whisper something near my ear—something silly, something meant only for me—and I laugh before I can stop myself.
He smiles like that sound is worth everything.
We’re always just a little too close.
Shoulders brushing.
Hands grazing.
Quiet comments exchanged between laughter and music.
I don’t know when it started feeling so natural, but it does.
Like we’ve slipped into a rhythm neither of us wants to break.
As the party begins to wind down, people start gathering around him again—friends, relatives, coworkers—all wanting a moment of the birthday boy’s attention.
And yet, even then, his eyes keep drifting back to me.
No matter who he’s talking to, he checks where I am, as if making sure I haven’t disappeared.
It makes something warm unfurl in my chest.
“Are you guys staying for the after party?” his hyung asks, glancing between me and my friends.
I hesitate and look toward my parents, then my grandmother.
My appa frowns slightly.
“Isn’t it too late?” he says, concerned.
I pout before I can stop myself.
“Maybe we could stay the night here, appa. Please. Just this once.”
My parents exchange a look.
Grandma chuckles softly, clearly amused.
“Well,” she says thoughtfully, eyes glinting as they slide toward Wonbin, “I don’t see a problem with you staying—as long as the birthday boy keeps entertaining you and doesn’t leave you alone.”
I roll my eyes, already ready to protest, but Wonbin beats me to it.
“Of course, Grandma Kim,” he says without hesitation.
“I’ll stay with him all night if you want.”
The words hit me harder than I expect.
His mom blinks, clearly surprised.
“Oh? Would you really?” Mihyun asks, studying him like she’s waiting for him to back out.
“Of course, Mom,” he replies easily.
Then he looks at me, just for a second, before adding, “He’s the most important guest here.”
My heart stutters.
I don’t know why that makes something twist faintly in my chest—not bad, just… complicated.
Important guest.
Not something else.
I tell myself I’m overthinking it.
“So Jaehyun’s staying for the after party too?” Jihoon asks.
Wonbin smiles.
“No. He’s busy.”
Jaehyun nods.
“Yeah, lots going on at the office lately.
Besides,” he adds with a teasing glance, “I don’t think Jihan’s going to escape when his friends are all here.”
Everyone laughs, and I feel my cheeks warm.
Soon after, goodbyes begin in earnest.
Hands wave.
Promises to meet again soon are exchanged.
One by one, people leave, and before I realize it, the space feels quieter, more intimate. This chapter was taken from g.com without permission.
Wonbin stays close the entire time.
When my parents finally head out, he bows politely.
When my grandma squeezes my cheek and teases me one last time, he smiles like he doesn’t mind at all.
“Well then,” someone says, “we’ll go ahead now.”
Wonbin, Chansoo, Yunjoo, and I wave as the rest head home.
As the doors close behind them, I realize something gently, almost shyly settling in my chest.
Wonbin hasn’t let go of me once—not really.
Not tonight.
And the way he’s treated me—the way he checks on me, stands beside me, chooses me again and again—it makes me feel light.
Hopeful.
Like maybe, just maybe, this is the beginning of something good.
I don’t say it out loud.
But I carry it with me as the after party begins, my heart quietly full.
________
There are still people around, but not the overwhelming kind anymore.
The ones who remain feel… intentional.
Familiar with Wonbin in a way that makes me acutely aware I’m stepping into his space now.
His world.
Close friends, relatives, people who know his habits and his tells.
We stand there for a moment, the four of us—me, Chansoo, Yunjoo, and Wonbin—hovering in that awkward pause where the party has ended but the night hasn’t yet decided what it wants to be.
Wonbin breaks the silence first.
“So,” he says, glancing between us, lips curved in a small, careful smile.
“Do you guys drink?”
Chansoo answers before I can.
“Yeah, we do. Jihan-hyung’s just a lightweight.”
I shoot him a glare.
“I am not.”
Wonbin laughs softly, the sound low and warm, and it makes my chest flutter in a way I’m not prepared for.
His eyes flick back to me, amused but gentle, like he’s already decided I’m something he needs to be careful with.
“That’s okay,” he says easily.
“You can stay in the hotel rooms if you end up too drunk to go home.”
Something about the way he says you can stay makes my heart stumble.
Like he’s already planned for us to be here.
Like the idea of me staying never felt strange to him at all.
We start walking toward the bar together, and without thinking, he falls into step beside me.
Close.
Not touching, but close enough that I feel his presence everywhere—his warmth, his scent, the way his arm occasionally brushes mine when the space narrows.
I’m painfully aware of myself.
Of my posture.
My hands.
My voice when I speak.
It’s like every nerve ending is awake all at once, buzzing with this giddy, electric happiness that makes me feel almost lightheaded even before the alcohol.
At the bar, he stands slightly angled toward me, ordering drinks for the group.
He checks in quietly, asks what I want, waits for my answer like it matters.
When he passes me my glass, our fingers touch, and I swear my heart skips.
For a while, it’s just… good.
I don’t even notice when Chansoo and Yunjoo drift a little farther down the counter, laughing with someone else.
All I know is that Wonbin’s attention keeps circling back to me.
He listens when I speak.
Laughs at my jokes like they’re funnier than they probably are.
Introduces me proudly when someone comes over.
“This is Jihan,” he says at one point, hand briefly resting against my back.
“I told you about him.”
The words make my ears burn.
Then more people arrive.
Friends of his, I think. The source of this chapter is g.com.
Comfortable.
Easy.
They slip into conversation naturally, and suddenly I’m being introduced to names and relationships I have to work to keep up with.
The omega Wonbin brought before—someone I’d noticed earlier in the night—is introduced properly this time.
His cousin.
Kim Juhwan.
The realization makes me relax instantly, a quiet oh settling in my chest.
Juhwan’s boyfriend, Junhyung, is warm and teasing, immediately dragging him into conversation.
Then there’s Donghyun—Wonbin’s best friend—who keeps glancing at Yunjoo like he’s already half gone.
It’s… nice.
Easy.
Laughter flows, drinks refill, stories overlap.
I feel included.
Welcomed.
For a while, I’m still right there—right beside Wonbin.
His shoulder close.
His attention flicking back to me every few minutes, checking in, making sure I’m still smiling.
And I am.
Until I’m not.
I don’t know exactly when it happens.
There’s no sharp moment, no clear line.
Just… a slow drifting.
A conversation I’m not part of.
A laugh that doesn’t include me.
Wonbin leaning slightly away to answer someone else.
His hand no longer warm against my back.
I look around, suddenly realizing I don’t know where Chansoo is.
Or when Yunjoo moved farther away.
The bar feels louder now.
Brighter.
Less intimate.
Wonbin is still there—right in front of me—but his attention is split.
Pulled in different directions.
He’s smiling, talking, being the person everyone knows him to be.
And I feel it, all at once.
The happiness.
The giddiness.
The warmth of having been chosen.
And then the quiet, sinking realization that I can’t hold that attention forever.
Not here.
Not like this.
I take a slow sip of my drink, grounding myself, reminding myself that this is normal.
That this doesn’t mean anything bad.
That I’m still here.
That I’m still allowed to feel happy about what I had—even if it’s shifting now.
But my chest aches anyway.
Because for a little while… I was the center of his world.
And now I’m just another part of it.