stars × cnblue kangminhyuk

15 : Unmasked Desire

That evening was really something else. Everything was crumpling inside my head to the point that I was literally walking around like a middle-aged woman who had lost her sanity. Luckily, I had my shades with me—my only shield from the world. They saved me from being seen all messed up by strangers and, more importantly, from the public. It was hard being an idol's so-called "girlfriend." You constantly had to take care of your image because people were always watching. Every step you took felt like it was being observed and judged.

Even on the bus, I could feel eyes on me. I noticed the way people stared when I first got in. I knew why. My "boyfriend" was Kang Minhyuk, drummer of CNBLUE. What was I doing, riding a bus like some normal girl? Shouldn't I be hiding in a car with tinted windows? I almost laughed. Let the media see me on a bus, let the whole world know an idol let his girlfriend ride public transportation like anyone else. Would Minhyuk care if he knew? Probably not.

By the time I arrived at my doorstep, my chest felt hollow. But something else quickly caught my attention. A brown medium-sized box sat in front of the door. I blinked, my lips tugging upward the moment I spotted a small yellow post-it note stuck to it. I knew that handwriting too well.

*"You shouldn't go around crying, leaving behind your groceries. This is why you won't make a good housewife.

—HandsomeCheol."*

"Aw, shut it, stalker," I muttered under my breath, chuckling despite myself. Seungcheol. He always had his way of making me feel seen, cared for. Sweet, thoughtful... though I had no idea how he'd even found my address—or more like, Minhyuk's address. I really needed to stop referring to everything of his as mine. This wasn't my home.

The lock beeped as I punched in the password. Chichi and Ttatta came sprinting to the door, tails wagging, little paws clicking against the floor. It felt like I was coming home to my kids. At least these kids cared about me. Damn it—why did everything around me remind me of him?

I carried the box inside, unpacked the groceries, and neatly stored them in the fridge after cleaning up a bit. Domestic, mundane—it almost felt like home. If home was the right word for this place we were temporarily sharing.

I finally slumped onto the couch, turning on the TV, letting the noise fill the silence. But just as I began to breathe, the sound of the door opening startled me. My head snapped up.

Chichi and Ttatta ran to greet the newcomer. But before I could even process, Minhyuk came rushing inside. He was drenched in sweat, chest heaving, his face flushed. He looked like he had run straight from the stage—or from the edge of the world itself.

"Hyojin..." His voice was strained as he fell to his knees, palms pressed against the floor to support himself. He was gasping for air, drenched as if he'd sprinted a marathon. "Why, Hyojin? Why would you do that? I was so worried..."

I froze. Shock pinned me to the couch. My body wouldn't move. My brain wouldn't catch up. I just stared at him, unable to process what was happening.

Slowly, he pushed himself up, staggering toward me. Without hesitation, he pulled me into his arms.

"Yah... do you know how worried I was?" His embrace tightened, one hand pressing against the back of my head, his fingers threading gently through my hair. His body was still trembling, his chest rising and falling against mine.

My own heartbeat spiked uncontrollably, my face burning, my brain melting. "W-why?" My voice cracked, the word trembling out.

"You don't know what it did to me when I heard..." He drew in a shaky breath, his lips brushing close to my ear as he spoke. "You won't believe how fast I drove back as soon as I saw the articles about the mart incident. I've never been so thankful to the media before."

He pulled away just enough to look at me, his hands gripping my shoulders, his eyes locking onto mine. His gaze was unlike anything I had ever seen on him—soft, raw, brimming with emotions he never showed anyone. "Were you scared?"

I dropped my gaze instantly, my throat tight. "No," I muttered quickly. But the word was hollow, fragile.

I could practically hear the grin tugging at his lips. He knew me too well. He knew about my phobia, knew exactly how shaken I really was. Why even ask?

And then, his arms were around my waist, pulling me against him. His voice dropped low, almost a whisper, yet it vibrated right into my bones.

"Date me."

My head shot up. His eyes... God, his eyes. They were unwavering, searing into me with an intensity that made my stomach flip.

I let out a nervous, ridiculous giggle. "But... we're already dating, aren't we?" My attempt at a joke fell flat, my awkward laugh sounding so fake I wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out.

But then, his hand lifted my chin gently, tilting my face up to meet his gaze. "No," he whispered, voice trembling yet steady at the same time. "Date me for real, Hyojin."

The words hit me like lightning. My sanity cracked, my restraint shattered. Before I could even think, I leaned forward and slammed my lips against his. I didn't care anymore. Damn it, I was falling for him. And I was helpless against it.

He smirked against the kiss, his lips moving with mine, deepening it, claiming it. My heart roared inside my chest as he tilted his head, pulling me closer, his hand sliding along my waist as though afraid I'd slip away. I had never imagined I would crave him like this, need him so desperately that I'd throw all sense of logic aside just to feel his mouth on mine.

And God, he kissed me back like he had been starving for it too. Like he'd been holding himself back all this time, and now he couldn't anymore. Every second felt like fire—his warmth, his breath, the way he pulled me impossibly closer.

I wanted him. All of him. No explanations, no deals, no pretending. Just him.

¤

The room was quiet again, except for the sound of our breaths and the loud thumping of my heart. The TV screen in front of us was still black, reflecting only our flushed faces. I sat stiffly on the couch, awkward, the memory of his lips still burning against mine. I shifted an inch away, trying to cool the heat crawling up my neck.

Minhyuk sat beside me, silent. Then, without a word, his right hand reached for mine, covering it, pressing it down gently on the couch cushion. His warmth spread through my skin. My fingers twitched, but I didn't pull away. His heartbeat throbbed faintly against his veins, pulsing through his touch. Was he as wrecked as I was?

The ticking of the clock grew louder, filling the silence, stretching time between us. Every second felt heavier.

I had never expected him to worry so much. Never expected him to run home like this, to look at me that way, to kiss me back with such hunger. Everything I thought I knew about the three-month "deal" between us suddenly felt like a fragile lie ready to shatter.

Finally, he broke the silence. His voice was low, husky, trembling in the air between us. "I know this doesn't make sense. I know it feels too soon, too fast..."

He turned to me fully, gripping my shoulders. His eyes burned with a mix of desperation and fear, like he was standing on the edge of a cliff with me. Sweat slid down from his temple, even though the air conditioner was blowing cool air across us.

"Hyojin..." His voice cracked, and then steadied, firm and unyielding.

"Will you marry me?"

The words crashed into me like thunder.