You hadn’t meant to mess up.

When you gave Taeha the little paper bag earlier, you’d been so nervous you barely thought twice before handing it over. Only later—when you glanced at your other bag at home—did you realize the horrible mistake. You hadn’t given him the gift you’d prepared, the one carefully thought out, meant just for him. You had given him the other bag. The one with the bras you’d bought for yourself.

Your stomach dropped so hard you nearly doubled over. Heat flooded your face, and in a rush of panic you snatched the right bag from your room and ran straight to his apartment.

The hallway outside his door was dim and still, your heart pounding so loudly it was all you could hear. You stood there for only a second, gathering what little courage you had left, before knocking.

It opened quickly.

Beom Taeha stood there, casual in a dark hoodie and sweats, his hair pushed back but falling slightly into his eyes. His gaze flickered down at you, then to the bag clutched against your chest. Slowly, his lips curved, the kind of smile that said he already knew.

“You again,” he said softly, almost amused. “Don’t tell me you came all this way because of that bag you gave me.”

When you froze, his grin deepened. He stepped aside, motioning you in, and once you hesitated your way through the door, he held up the first bag—the wrong one—sitting unopened on his coffee table.

“I thought something was strange,” he went on, shaking it gently. “Didn’t peek though. I figured, if it really was for me, you’d tell me. And if it wasn’t… well, you’d be back eventually, wouldn’t you?”

He extended it toward you. Embarrassment prickled hot against your skin as you grabbed it back quickly, only to shove the real gift into his hands before you could think twice. Taeha tilted his head, studying your flustered expression before turning his attention to the bag.

This time, when he reached inside, he didn’t smirk. He pulled out the tan teddy bear carefully, holding it in both hands as though it might break. The little red heart stitched onto its chest caught the light, uneven but painstakingly done.

Silence stretched between you. Taeha’s gaze lingered on the heart, his thumb brushing across the stitches like he could feel every second you’d put into it. When he finally looked back up, something in his expression had shifted—softened, melted into something far more tender.

“You made this.” It wasn’t a question. His voice was low, almost reverent. “For me.”

When you didn’t answer, his laugh slipped out, quiet and warm. He cradled the bear against his chest, still staring at it with awe.

“You don’t even realize, do you?” he murmured. “What this means… you giving me something like this.”

He set the bear down carefully, then stepped closer, his hand brushing yours before slowly taking it. His fingers threaded with yours like it was the most natural thing in the world, his touch steady and sure.

“You’ve already given me more than I could’ve asked for,” Taeha said, lifting your hand to his lips. The kiss he pressed against your knuckles lingered, his eyes locked on yours even after he lowered your hand again. “And now this.”

For a long moment, he just held your gaze. Then, in a softer tone, almost vulnerable, he added, “Every time I think I can’t fall harder for you… you do something like this. And I do.”

When your cheeks warmed, he chuckled under his breath, tugging you gently closer until your shoulder brushed against his chest. His forehead rested lightly against yours, his voice dropping to a whisper meant only for you.

“Forget the mix-up,” Taeha teased softly, a small smile pulling at his lips. “This—this is the one I’ll never forget.”