𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐃𝐄; boysnextdoor

stay ; woonhak

Y/N always knew what it was like to have friends—or, at least, people who called themselves her friends. Her life was littered with the remnants of broken connections, like shards of glass from a fragile vase that had fallen one too many times. She wasn't bitter about it, not exactly. People came and went, and she'd learned to accept that she was the kind of person who others liked for a while, but not forever.

Her friends always had someone else, someone better, who they chose when things got tough or complicated. Y/N was the backup plan, the option when all others failed.

That was until she met Woonhak.

It wasn't an instant bond, the kind people wrote about in novels or sang about in songs. It was slow, like watching the first buds of spring unfurl after a long, cold winter.

They met during the second semester of her senior year. Y/N had been sitting on the edge of the school courtyard, her back pressed against the rough bark of an old oak tree, a book resting on her lap. The courtyard was her refuge, a place where she could pretend she didn't notice the laughter and chatter of her classmates echoing through the air.

"Is this seat taken?"

The voice startled her, pulling her from her thoughts. She looked up to find Woonhak standing there, a slight grin tugging at his lips and a soccer ball tucked under his arm.

She blinked at him, unsure why someone like him—popular, effortlessly charming, the kind of person who seemed to belong everywhere—would want to sit next to her.

"No," she said finally, shifting slightly to make room.

"Cool," he said, dropping to the ground beside her.

At first, they sat in silence. Woonhak started juggling his soccer ball with his knees, his focus on the ball rather than her. Y/N tried to return to her book, but she found herself sneaking glances at him, curious about why he was here.

"You're Y/N, right?" he asked suddenly, catching the ball and holding it still.

"Yeah," she replied cautiously.

"I've seen you around. You're in the literature club, aren't you?"

She nodded, surprised that he even knew that.

"You always seem like you're in your own world," he said, his tone light and without judgment. "I thought maybe you'd like some company."

Y/N didn't know how to respond to that. She wasn't used to people seeking her out, especially not someone like Woonhak. But there was something about his presence that didn't feel threatening or intrusive. It felt... nice.

From that day on, Woonhak made a habit of finding her during breaks. Sometimes he'd bring snacks and share them with her, tossing her a bag of chips as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Other times, he'd drag her into conversations about the most random topics—like whether aliens existed or what her favorite childhood cartoon was.

It was disarming, how easily he slipped into her life.

Y/N found herself looking forward to those moments more than she wanted to admit. She still felt cautious, still kept a part of herself guarded, but Woonhak never seemed to mind. He just kept showing up, like clockwork, without expecting anything in return.

One afternoon, as they sat under the oak tree, Woonhak turned to her with a serious expression.

"Why do you always sit alone?" he asked.

Y/N hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her book. "I don't know. I guess I'm just used to it."

"Used to it?" He frowned. "That doesn't sound right. Don't you have friends?"

She shrugged, avoiding his gaze. "I have friends. Or I did. They just... moved on, I guess."

There was a pause, and she wondered if she'd said too much. But then Woonhak spoke, his voice softer than usual.

"People are stupid sometimes," he said. "If they didn't stay, that's their loss."

Y/N looked at him, surprised by the conviction in his voice. He met her gaze, his eyes steady and sincere.

"I'd stay," he added.

Her chest tightened at those words, a mix of hope and fear swirling inside her. She wanted to believe him, but she'd been let down too many times before.

As the weeks turned into months, Woonhak proved that he meant what he said. He wasn't just there during the good moments; he was there during the hard ones too.

When Y/N had a bad day, he'd show up with her favorite snack or crack a joke so ridiculous that she couldn't help but laugh. When she was quiet and withdrawn, he didn't push her to talk. He just sat with her, his presence a silent reassurance.

One evening, after a particularly tough day, Y/N found herself opening up to him in a way she never had with anyone else.

"I don't think I'm good at keeping people around," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Woonhak frowned, leaning closer. "Why would you say that?"

She hesitated, her hands twisting in her lap. "It's just... I feel like people always leave. Like I'm not enough to make them stay."

"That's not true," he said firmly. "You're more than enough, Y/N. Anyone who leaves doesn't deserve you in the first place."

His words hit her like a punch to the gut, not because they hurt, but because they felt like the truth she'd been too afraid to believe.

"Why do you care so much?" she asked, her voice trembling.

He smiled, that warm, genuine smile that always made her feel like the world wasn't such a bad place after all.

"Because you matter to me," he said simply

It wasn't just words with Woonhak. He showed her what it meant to have someone who chose you, who stayed even when it wasn't convenient or easy.

When Y/N's birthday rolled around, Woonhak surprised her with a small celebration under the oak tree. He brought a cupcake with a single candle and sang "Happy Birthday" off-key, making her laugh so hard she cried.

"No one's ever done this for me before," she admitted as she blew out the candle.

"Well, get used to it," he said with a grin. "You've got me now."

There were moments when Y/N's insecurities tried to creep back in, moments when she wondered if Woonhak would eventually get tired of her like everyone else had. But every time those thoughts surfaced, he proved her wrong.

One day, as they walked home from school, Y/N voiced her fears.

"What if you leave too?" she asked, her voice barely audible.

Woonhak stopped walking and turned to her, his expression serious.

"I won't," he said. "You're stuck with me, Y/N. No matter what."

She searched his face, looking for any hint of doubt or hesitation, but there was none.

"Promise?" she whispered.

"Promise," he said, holding out his pinky.

She hesitated for a moment before linking her pinky with his.