A Backstage Love I Han Jisung x Reader

Dispatch Broke Everything

Han blinked, caught off guard for a split second. His breath hitched in his chest, and for a moment, he forgot how to respond, his usual confident composure slipping. A soft flush crept up his neck, the warmth on his cheek where her lips had just been still lingering. He rubbed the spot absently, his smile faltering slightly as his eyes met hers.

"Y/N..." he began, his voice unusually quiet, the usual teasing edge replaced by something gentler. He cleared his throat, trying to shake off the unexpected warmth flooding his chest. "You really know how to keep me on my toes, don't you?"

The lightheartedness in his words didn't quite match the softness in his gaze, his usual playful grin now laced with a trace of vulnerability. He paused, stepping a little closer as his smile became more genuine, a quiet chuckle escaping him. "You're making it hard for me to focus here, you know that, right?"

His eyes sparkled with affection, but there was something more there now-a deeper understanding, a shift in the dynamic between them. He didn't say it, but the unspoken message was clear: this moment, this simple touch, meant more to him than he let on.

As we arrived at my apartment door, Han paused, his expression softening. "I guess I should let you get some rest. You've had a long day."

I nodded, but I felt a pang of reluctance. "Yeah, I guess so. But..."

Han looked at me expectantly, his eyes warm. "But what?"

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding as I tried to muster the courage to say something-anything-that might hint at the feelings I was struggling to contain. But nothing came out. Instead, I simply said, "I just wanted to say thank you. For everything."

Han's smile was kind, but there was a hint of something unreadable in his eyes. "Anytime. I'll see you soon, okay?"

I managed a nod, watching as he turned to leave. As he walked away, a wave of frustration washed over me. Why couldn't I just tell him? Why was I so cowardly, hiding behind vague expressions of gratitude instead of being honest about what I felt?

The door clicked shut behind him, and I leaned back against it, feeling a surge of self-reproach. I was so familiar with the clean, yet empty environment of my recovery, but the emotional mess I was in was something new and disorienting. My internal struggle seemed to echo the therapy equipment that lined the walls of my apartment.

Sinking onto the couch, I ran my fingers through my hair, gripping it as if trying to hold onto some semblance of control. The ache in my chest was not just from the physical pain but from the crushing weight of unspoken emotions.

As I stared out the window at the city lights, a realization began to crystallize in my mind. Maybe life was about more than just dancing. Maybe-just maybe-Han was worth more than the dance studio and all its rehearsals. I felt a stirring of something profound and unsettling, a sense that he was becoming something central in my life, something I hadn't fully acknowledged until now.

I remained there, wrapped in my blanket, wrestling with my thoughts and feelings. I knew I wasn't ready to declare anything outright, not when I was still so uncertain and guarded. But the growing realization that Han was becoming increasingly important to me was undeniable.

As I let the silence envelop me, I realized that, for now, all I could do was focus on healing and try to manage the tangled mess of my heart. Why must I be so stubborn? I just want to tell him how I truly feel. I've been feeling this way since the early days of the year-almost a whole year now. So why is it so hard to accept and express these feelings?

As I awoke the next morning, I felt a mixture of excitement and apprehension. Han had promised to visit with an update about the group's upcoming performance. I was eager to hear about their progress, yet the thought of seeing him stirred the complex emotions I had been struggling with.

When Han arrived, he carried a folder with details about the upcoming performance and a small bouquet of flowers. "These are for you," he said, setting them down on the table. "I thought you might like a bit of color to brighten up your day."

The gesture was sweet, and I couldn't help but become bashful. "Thanks, Han. It's really thoughtful of you."

As he began to talk about the performance, I listened intently, trying to keep my emotions in check. But it was impossible to ignore the way my heart raced whenever he spoke. It felt like every word he said was a reminder of how much I cared for him.

In the middle of our conversation, my phone buzzed with an incoming call from an unknown number. I answered, and to my surprise, it was my old mentor from a previous dance program, offering me an opportunity to join a new project. The catch was that it would require relocating temporarily, after my full recovery of course.

The timing couldn't have been more complicated. The chance was incredible, but it also meant leaving everything behind, including Han and the group. I was torn, and Han could see the conflicted expression on my face.

Later that day, as Han and I sat together in the apartment, I finally opened up. "Han, I got an offer to join a new project, but it means moving away for a while. I'm not sure what to do."

Han's face softened, and he took my hand gently. "It sounds like a great opportunity, but I understand if you're scared about leaving everything behind. Whatever you decide, I'm here for you."

His words were comforting, but they also made me realize how much I didn't want to leave him. I still hadn't confessed my feelings, but the idea of being apart from him was painful. It was clear that my feelings were growing deeper than just friendship.

As Han left for the day, I was left with a heavy heart. I stared at the flowers he had brought and reflected on the possibility of leaving. It dawned on me that my feelings for him were more significant than I had allowed myself to admit. Maybe, just maybe, my life could be about more than dance. Maybe Han was worth more to me than the world of performance I had been so focused on.

In the following days, I found myself increasingly focused on my physical therapy and preparing for the possible move. Each moment with Han became more precious, and our interactions were tinged with an unspoken understanding. We both knew something was changing, though neither of us voiced it.

As I continued to work on my recovery, I began to accept that while I was still working on my dance and future, my feelings for Han were becoming a significant part of my journey. It was a new chapter I had yet to fully explore, but one I was beginning to embrace.

As I settled into the routine of my physical therapy, my phone buzzed with a text from Hana. I was eager to share some updates about my physical therapy progress, but when I opened the message, my heart sank.

Hana's text was filled with a mix of concern and surprise. "Y/N, have you seen the news? There's a rumor going around that Han is dating Choi Jisu from ITZY. The photos are everywhere. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I thought you should know."