A Backstage Love I Han Jisung x Reader

The Long Awaited Expression

The kiss began softly, a gentle connection that carried a thousand unspoken words. His hand cradled my face, his touch tender yet firm, as if afraid I might slip away. The warmth of his skin seeped into mine, and I felt the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. It was grounding, raw, alive. The world outside disappeared, leaving only the quiet hum of our breathing, the syncopated beats of our hearts, and the weight of the words neither of us had spoken.

Then, the kiss deepened. His hesitation melted away, replaced by something more intense. My back met the wall with a quiet thud, and his body closed the space between us, the heat of his presence brushing against my cheek. A shiver ran through me, sharp and consuming, as his scent—earthy thyme mingled with warm sandalwood—wrapped around me like a cocoon. It felt like every nerve in my body came alive at once, all focused on him.

In that moment, time seemed to stretch, each second a lifetime. Every touch, every movement, felt deliberate, as if the universe had paused to give us this. I lost myself in the sensation of his lips, his warmth, his unwavering presence filling spaces in me I hadn't realized were empty.

But then, too soon, he pulled away. Reality snapped back like a taut rubber band, and the absence of him left a hollow ache in its wake. I inhaled sharply, my chest rising and falling with the force of a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. My lips tingled with the memory of his kiss, the intensity of what had just passed lingering between us like an unspoken promise.

Han's gaze was tender, his eyes brimming with emotions he didn't need to voice. "Goodnight, Y/N," he whispered, his voice low, almost trembling.

"Goodnight, Han," I replied, my own voice barely above a whisper.

He hesitated, his hand twitching as though he wanted to reach for me again but couldn't. Then, with a quiet sigh, he turned and stepped through the door. I closed it softly behind him, leaning against it to steady myself. My heart raced, my body still humming with the memory of his touch.

I was about to collapse onto the couch when I spotted his jacket on the coffee table. Without thinking, I grabbed it and ran outside to return it, but he was already gone.

I stood there for a moment, clutching his jacket. The fabric was still warm, carrying his scent, and I felt the ache of his absence settle deeper. Back inside, I curled up on the couch, running my fingers over the sleeve as my mind replayed the kiss, the way he'd left so abruptly, the emotions in his eyes.

Just as I began to overthink, my phone buzzed. His name lit up the screen.

"I'm sorry."

I frowned at the message, my stomach twisting. "Sorry for what?"

The reply came almost instantly. "For leaving like that. I didn't want to make things uncomfortable."

I chewed my lip, my heart fluttering. His uncertainty, his effort to be careful with me—it tugged at something deep inside. I typed slowly, wanting to be honest but not too much.

"You didn't make me uncomfortable. You made me want more. Please don't overthink this."

A pause. Then: "It's just... being with you feels like everything I've been missing. It's overwhelming, in the best and worst ways."

I stared at the screen, my chest tightening. The vulnerability in his words mirrored my own feelings.

"You don't have to stay away," I typed. "Just don't run."

I hit send before I could second-guess it. A moment later, the doorbell rang.

I froze, my heart hammering. When I opened the door, Han stood there, his expression hesitant but determined.

"I—" he started, then stopped. His hands fidgeted at his sides before he finally looked me in the eyes. "I didn't want to leave it like that. I'm sorry if I—"

"You don't have to apologize," I interrupted, stepping closer. My hand brushed his, grounding him, grounding us.

His lips parted as though to say more, but instead, he reached up, cupping my face in his hands. "I'm trying to figure this out," he admitted, his voice shaky but firm. "I never said it properly but- I love you so much Y/N. I've loved you for longer than I want to admit, and I need you to know that."

The words hit me like a wave, crashing over every wall I'd built to guard my heart. For a moment, I couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't do anything but feel the truth in his confession.

Before I could respond, he kissed me again, more urgently this time, as if he needed me to understand everything he couldn't put into words.

When he pulled back, I pressed my forehead to his, my voice trembling but sure. "I love you too, Han. I think I always have."

Relief washed over his face, and he smiled—soft, genuine, and so full of emotion it stole the air from my lungs. "Good," he said, a hint of laughter in his voice. "Because I don't think I'll ever stop."

As the silence stretched between us, I felt his hand tighten around mine, his thumb brushing against my skin in slow, deliberate circles. There was a gravity to the moment, an unspoken understanding that words could never fully capture.

"Do you want to come inside?" I asked softly, my voice steady but filled with uncertainty.

Han hesitated, his gaze flickering to the doorway behind me before settling back on my face. "If I come in," he said, his tone low and measured, "I don't think I'll want to leave."

The weight of his confession sent a shiver down my spine. There was no pretense, no veil to hide behind—just raw vulnerability.

"You don't have to," I whispered, stepping aside to let him in.

He lingered on the threshold for a moment before crossing it, his presence filling the room like he belonged there. The door clicked shut behind us, and suddenly the space felt smaller, more intimate.