Inspired by Songs.......Gongfourz Oneshots (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

Mr. Perfectly Fine-Part 1 :Perfect mess

Hello Mr. "Perfectly fine"
How's your heart after breaking mine?

They were that couple.

Oh, not the kind people thought would last — definitely not that.

They were the couple everyone thought was hot. The couple that ruled, even with their toxicity. The kind you couldn't look away from, even when it was burning.

Leehan and Taesan didn't date, they collided. Every kiss was a power struggle, every fight a performance. They were chaos dressed as perfection — matching bruises, matching grins, matching lies.

And when they finally broke up, it wasn't a breakup.
It was a detonation.

Now? They don't speak. Not properly, anyway. They throw words like knives across rooms, cut each other with memories sharper than glass.

But the thing about Leehan and Taesan is — even their silence feels loud.
Every time they're in the same space, the air hums.
Hate, want, history — all tangled up in one messy heartbeat.

Everyone else sees enemies.
They see ghosts.

Ghosts of hands once held too tight, of mouths that knew each other too well, of nights that tasted like love and regret.

2 years.

It had been 2 years since they broke up and some snide remarks when they came across eachother.

well—

2 years 3 months 1 week 2 days 5hr 3min and 47 sec to be exact ...it wasnt what only one of them knew...they both knew it .it was saved on their phns cause smth abt keeping the time felt safe.something familiar still lingered...it was a reminder.

It had been two years since they broke up — two years of bitter silence, sharp glares, and the occasional snide remark when they accidentally crossed paths.

Well—

Two years, three months, one week, two days, five hours, three minutes, and forty-seven seconds, to be exact.
Not that either of them was counting.
Except... they both were.

It was saved in their phones, tucked away behind passwords and playlists. A timer neither could bring themselves to delete. There was something oddly safe about keeping track — like if they knew exactly how long it had been, it would hurt a little less.

Something familiar still lingered between them, stubborn and heavy. It wasn't love anymore, not exactly, but it wasn't gone either. It was a reminder — of everything they were, everything they lost, and everything they swore they didn't still feel.

And there they were — standing in the middle of class.

Assigned as partners for a duo project.

Not like they actually worked together or anything.
No, they just bullied someone into doing it for them.

Not because they didn't care about grades.
Not because they could bully someone and get away with it — though they totally could.

But because it hurt.
Because sitting next to each other, pretending to be fine, pretending they didn't remember every look, every word, every touch — that was worse than failing.

So yeah. They let someone else do the work.
Because facing each other felt harder than facing the consequences.

"Mr. Han and Mr. Kim," Professor Park began, voice sharper than usual, "you're both among the top five students in this university. Your work could've been way better than this. I had my expectations set high for you two."