Jaemin and I had been best friends since we were kids. He was the quiet, sweet boy who always went along with my antics, while I was the one who couldn’t sit still. From the moment we met, I made it my mission to be his personal cheerleader, his safe space, and the one person who could always make him smile.

I was the affectionate one, always throwing my arms around him in a tight hug when we met up, or resting my head on his shoulder when we’d sit on the couch watching movies. If he seemed stressed, I’d run my fingers through his hair, smoothing it back until I felt his shoulders relax. Kissing his cheeks became my way of saying hello and goodbye, a casual act of closeness that felt as natural as breathing.

Jaemin didn’t seem to mind—at least, he never said he did. If anything, he’d smile softly, his ears turning pink as he let me shower him with attention. I liked being his source of comfort, his constant, especially as we grew older and life started throwing bigger challenges our way.

But then, things started to change.

Jaemin became…bolder. At first, it was little things—him holding on to my hand for a bit too long after I’d grabbed his in excitement, or leaning into my touch more than usual. But then, one day, when I gave him my usual goodbye cheek kiss, he caught me completely off guard.

He turned his head just slightly, enough that my lips grazed the corner of his. My face flushed, and I immediately stepped back.

From that moment on, it was like he’d flipped a switch. Whenever I rested my head on his shoulder, he’d tilt his head to rest against mine, his closeness making my heart race. If I tried to playfully ruffle his hair, he’d grab my hand and hold it, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. And when I hugged him, he’d wrap his arms around me just a little too tightly, like he didn’t want to let go.

“Why do you always get to be the affectionate one?” he teased one day, his voice light but his eyes serious. “What if I want to spoil you for once?”