itzy oneshots

you x yeji : dripping promises

published july 21, 2025. 1978 words
au
y/n pov.

I glance at my glass of white wine, untouched and half full. Then at hers. I was slouched in my seat despite my girlfriend's past warnings about posture. But now, what do I care?

"I love you," she leans in to mumble, puppy-eyed, hands laced on the table. "I don't like having to remind you because..." She minds our surroundings as if the rest of her sentence is there, brushing back the side of her scalp.

I blink my tears away. "Why are we broken up then? Then—then you drag me here?"

We sat in a private room at one of the highest rated restaurants downtown. Yeji's favorite spot. They tend to dim the lights when it rains. The air was warm and breathable. A tinge too heavy for my taste.

She takes a deep breath, her makeup barely masking her exhaustion. "Because it'll ruin your life if we're together any longer," she hisses through her teeth and rubs her temple.

"But I don't care!" I muster my shout as I rocket up from the chair and circle the table. "I don't care what it takes, Yeji!"

She stands up after me, marking herself with that towering stature. "That's why I'm not answering your calls. I care enough to do this."

"But it hurts." I reach for her hands, but she's careful to nudge it away. I bring my chin down, lips trembling with fear and loss. At least the urge to sob out diminished. Because she was ultimately acknowledging me.

"It hurts me more when they ask me about you." She leans in to cup my cheek, our faces inches away from a kiss. "Everything I do is for you, though, alright?" she coos hushedly.

We're both thunderstruck, the nearby lightning paralyzing us. Just a moment before, I flinched toward her. We froze like a pair of icicles, aware that the following decision would define us.

She fluttered her eyelashes, starstruck, before lowering her chin to strip her coat off. She draped it over me lovingly as her arm smoothly went around.

She didn't push me away. She kept me close. But why?

She abandons me one week, then drags me along the next.

She sets something down on the table. "You don't always have to try and look good for me," she mutters quietly and collects our bags, mine hanging by her forearm and hers slung over her shoulder.

"I..." My entire head bursts into flames, grateful we aren't eye to eye as we walk out. "I'm not trying to look good."

She leans over to inspect my outfit, then bursts into laughter, tossing her head back. "We both know that's not true."

Okay. She wins.

I exaggerate with a pout and cross my arms. I'll go to war if it means she'll care.

Her arm is tighter around me as she opens the restaurant's door. "It's okay! You look— Just not... for this weather."

We step under the overhang, streetlights and a blur shine through the showers. Rain crashes down, pattering across the roof and the streets. Darkness is much to see, and everything else is quiet. No splashes of cars racing by large puddles, zero pedestrians, nothing.

I glance down at my dolly shoes, almost soaked through. The itch is bound to bite through the wet fabric onto my soles, so I step back. My skirt swooshes with each gust of wind, so I close my thighs, kicking a pond of water so it'd fret from sneaking in my socks.

Of course I wore this.

"You did this to amuse me, right?" She gestures toward my legs.

"Shut up..."