In a world where dreams and fame collide, Naeun is a hardworking freelance model trying to balance her studies while secretly in love with Taemin, the rising star of SHINee. Their romance began when he was just a trainee and grew stronger as he prep...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ:✧⋆.:･ﾟ✧.: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ☾
Naeun's POV,
Naeun stretched out her arm, still groggy from sleep, blinking against the morning light. The soft chime of a phone continued to buzz beside her. She reached toward the sound, her fingers brushing against Taemin's phone, its screen lighting up with notifications. One in particular caught her eye—a missed call from Joonwoon.
She turned to the other side of the bed, only to find it empty. The sheets were still warm, but Taemin was gone.
Curiosity stirred. She slipped out of bed, following the faint sound of running water that echoed from the bathroom. Knocking gently, she raised her voice just enough to be heard. "Joonwoon called you just now. Want me to call him back?"
Taemin's voice came muffled through the door. "Just text him. Tell him I'm in the shower."
Unlocking his phone, she began typing the message as she leaned casually against the wall. She was still mid-sentence when the door suddenly creaked open—and before she could react, Taemin's hand reached out and pulled her inside.
Water splashed onto her sleeves, dampening her pajamas. "Taemin!" she gasped, laughing in surprise.
"My pajamas are getting soaked because of you," she whined, stomping her foot in exaggerated frustration, a mock pout forming on her lips.
But he only grinned, unbothered. His hand slid gently behind her neck, drawing her in for a kiss. It was slow, tender—melting away any resistance. Her heart fluttered at the quiet intensity of his touch. It didn't matter how many times he held her like this, and still, he left her breathless.
The morning light streamed gently through the window, wrapping around them like a secret only they shared. Moments like these were fleeting now—stolen between rehearsals, shoots, and classes. But they mattered. They grounded them. They reminded her of what they were holding onto.
And then, days turned into weeks.
The pace of life picked up again, quietly and relentlessly. Taemin's schedule grew heavier with back-to-back promotions, fan signs, and late-night rehearsals. Naeun's days filled with lectures, modeling gigs, and quiet evenings studying in cafés.
Their time together became rarer, the moments shorter—quick phone calls between shoots, sleepy texts after midnight, soft "I miss you"s spoken through screens. And yet, even in the quiet spaces between them, their bond never wavered.
Now, weeks after that quiet morning, Naeun sat in class, her chin resting on her hand as her mind drifted. The professor's voice faded into the background, eclipsed by thoughts of Taemin. She wondered what he was doing—if he was already at the studio, or maybe still resting from yesterday's performance. The image of his tired smile flickered across her memory, warming her chest.
