you never meant to fall for him. not really. but then you saw heeseung — warm smile, ring on his finger, eyes that looked tired of something you couldn’t name yet. he laughed at your jokes, stayed longer than necessary when you talked, looked at you like he was trying to remember how desire felt.

you found out about his wife by accident. it didn’t stop you. it should’ve, maybe. but you liked the thrill, the way it felt like a secret blooming between you two. he told you things in the dark — how she stopped listening, how he stopped trying, how he didn’t recognize the life he built anymore.

you listened. carefully. like you cared. maybe you did. maybe you just loved being the reason he stayed out late.

it started with his hand brushing yours. then lips, soft and slow. then a hotel room with dim lights and quiet music and his wedding ring placed carefully on the nightstand. he whispered your name like a prayer. you kissed him like a sin.

you knew what this was. not love. not yet. but something close. something dangerous.

still, you stayed. you always do.

after all, you never liked easy. you liked taken. and heeseung? he was yours. at least in the hours between dusk and dawn.

the rest — the guilt, the mess, the wife — didn’t matter when he touched you like that.

not to you.