pov: you started avoiding jake ever since you transferred into his school. you weren't surprised at all when you witnessed it with your own eyes, just a pang of hurt in your chest—the way all the girls went crazy over him and would literally do anything just to get his attention. and you? you were just like a little sister to him. his friend's sister. your brother and he had been friends for a long time, and you started having a crush on him since then. they hung out most of the time at your house, and you got closer to him. jake is kind, and that's something you admire about him. he’d offer to help you with school projects, patiently explaining complicated concepts in a way that made them seem simple. no matter how busy he was, he made time for his friends, and he always made you feel included. “need help with that math assignment?” he’d ask, leaning over your shoulder whenever he saw you struggling. his presence was somehow both comforting and nerve-wracking. you’d try to focus on the questions, but his closeness made your heart race. you thought that he'd never notice you, but there he was, always reaching out, asking if you were okay, noticing when your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes. and although you tried to keep your distance, there was a part of you that wanted to lean in, to bask in his kindness, hoping that maybe, just maybe, he saw you the way you saw him. it's been a week since you've kept your distance, and as you expected, you received messages from him asking if you were okay. you never responded to any. whenever he came to your house, it was just an excuse to hang out with your brother when, in fact, he just wanted to check on you. but you never came out of your room. you stayed locked up and only came out when he was gone. this isn't right—avoiding him without explanation. but you can't tell him the truth about your feelings. for you, it's better this way because you just keep falling for him every time you look him in the eye. one night, you were lying in bed when you heard countless notifications from your phone. "hey, talk to me please." "you know you can tell me anything, right?" "are we good?" you didn’t reply. not because you didn’t want to. god, you wanted to. your fingers hovered over the keyboard more than once, wanting to type i’m fine, or sorry, or i just need space— but every word felt like a lie. so you turned your phone facedown, swallowed the ache in your chest, and squeezed your eyes shut. minutes passed. maybe hours. the house was quiet; your thoughts were anything but. your throat felt dry—uncomfortably so—so you finally forced yourself out of bed and padded quietly toward the stairs. you told yourself your brother was probably already asleep. you told yourself jake wasn’t here tonight. you told yourself it was safe. but when you reached the bottom of the stairs and stepped into the dimly lit living room— you froze. jake was there. sitting on the couch. hoodie on. elbows on his knees. head in his hands, like he had been waiting a long, long time. your breath hitched. you stepped back, instinctively turning to retreat to your room— but his hand shot out and gently wrapped around your wrist. soft. warm. firm enough to stop you. “please don’t go,” he said quietly. his voice wasn’t angry. it wasn’t disappointed. it was tired. worried. something deeper threaded through it, something you didn’t dare name. “jake—” you whispered, heart pounding. “you’ve been avoiding me,” he said, still holding your wrist but not pulling—just keeping you from running. “a week, but it feels a lot longer than that.” you swallowed, trying to pull away, but he only tightened his hold—not enough to hurt, just enough to tell you he wasn’t letting you slip away again. “i shouldn’t be here,” you murmured. “you should,” he said softly. “you live here.” you closed your eyes. “you know what I mean.” “i do,” he sighed. “and that’s exactly why we need to talk.” (comsec++) #enhypen #enhypenpov #jake #enhypenjake #fyp - @jayaein_