The first time Ezra met Kian, the world felt lighter. It was autumn, the air crisp and filled with the scent of fallen leaves. Kian had smiled at him across the campus library, and that was it—Ezra was gone, lost in the warmth of a boy who burned too brightly.

Their love was all-consuming. Midnight walks, whispered secrets, kisses stolen between rainstorms. Kian was a wildfire—unpredictable, passionate, full of reckless dreams. And Ezra, steady and quiet, became the boy who tried to hold him in place.

But love is not always enough.

"You don’t understand, Ezra!" Kian’s voice cracked as he threw his backpack onto the couch. "This town suffocates me! I need to leave. I need to breathe."

Ezra stood frozen in the doorway. "And what about me?"

Kian sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "Come with me, then."

"You know I can’t." Ezra’s voice was barely a whisper. His mother was sick. His responsibilities held him here like invisible chains.

Kian scoffed. "So you're choosing to stay stuck while I go chase my dreams?"

Ezra’s heart clenched. "I’m not stuck, Kian. I just… I can’t drop everything the way you can."

Silence stretched between them, thick with things left unsaid. Kian had always been the boy who ran, and Ezra had always been the boy who stayed. Maybe they had been doomed from the start.

The night Kian left, Ezra sat by their favorite bridge, staring at the city lights reflecting in the river. His phone buzzed—one last message.

Kian: I’ll wait for you. But not forever.

Months passed. Then a year. Ezra told himself he would go, that he would chase after him. But life had a way of keeping people in place, and time had a way of turning promises into memories.

One day, he saw Kian’s name in a magazine—living in another city, another world. His smile was still the same, but the light in his eyes was one Ezra no longer recognized.

That night, Ezra finally let the love they once shared fade into the wind. Some people are meant to burn bright in your life, but not to stay. And Kian… Kian had always been too much like smoke—beautiful, fleeting, impossible to hold.

The first time Adrian saw Ethan, it was raining. Not the soft drizzle that kissed the earth gently, but a downpour that soaked everything in sight. Adrian had been standing under the awning of a bookstore, watching as the streets shimmered with puddles. That was when Ethan came crashing into his life—literally.

"Shit, sorry!" Ethan had gasped, colliding into him, his umbrella flipping inside out from the wind. He was drenched, curls sticking to his forehead, his glasses fogged up.

Adrian blinked at him, momentarily stunned. Then he chuckled, handing over a napkin from his pocket. "Rough day?"

"You have no idea," Ethan muttered, wiping his glasses. "I missed my bus, my laptop died in the middle of a presentation, and now I’m soaked."

Adrian smiled. "Looks like you need coffee."

Ethan raised an eyebrow. "Are you offering?"

And just like that, a cup of coffee turned into hours of conversation.

They became something without realizing it. Late-night calls, weekend bookstore visits, long walks under city lights. Adrian, quiet and thoughtful, found himself drawn to Ethan’s vibrant energy, his animated gestures when he spoke, the way he always had a book tucked under his arm.

Ethan, in turn, found comfort in Adrian’s steady presence—the way he listened without judgment, how he never minded Ethan’s ramblings about literature and philosophy.

One evening, as they sat on Adrian’s tiny apartment balcony, Ethan looked over at him, eyes soft. "You ever think about love?"

Adrian glanced at him. "Sometimes."

Ethan took a breath. "And us?"

Adrian’s heart pounded. He had never been good with words, never been the type to spill his feelings easily. But looking at Ethan, he knew.

"I think about you. All the time."

Ethan smiled—small, hesitant, but real. "Good. Because I think about you too."

But love isn’t always smooth.

Ethan was offered a job in another city—a dream opportunity, the kind that didn’t come twice. The night he told Adrian, there was a storm outside, wind rattling the windows.

Adrian tried to be happy for him, but something ached deep inside. "So… when do you leave?"

Ethan hesitated. "Next month."

Silence stretched between them. Then, softly, Ethan whispered, "Come with me."

Adrian exhaled sharply. "Ethan, my work, my life—it's here."

Ethan’s eyes darkened. "So we just… end?"

Adrian reached for his hand. "I don’t want that."

"Then what do we do?"

Adrian thought for a long moment. Then he smiled. "We figure it out. Together."

A year later, Adrian stood at the train station, bags in hand, heart racing. The city had been his home for so long, but home wasn’t a place anymore. It was a person.

The train pulled in, doors sliding open. And there, waiting on the platform, was Ethan—smiling like the sun after the rain.

Adrian stepped forward, and Ethan pulled him into a tight embrace.

"Ready?" Ethan whispered.

Adrian squeezed his hand. "Always."

[THE END]

Title: Trouble Meets Perfection

Jihoon was a menace.

Not the kind of high school troublemaker who got into serious fights or broke windows—but the kind who set off the fire alarm for fun, slipped fake love letters into random lockers, and somehow always convinced their homeroom teacher he had "absolutely no idea" how a frog ended up in the principal’s office.

Taemin, on the other hand, was perfect.

Top of the class, captain of the debate team, beloved by every teacher. He always had his tie properly knotted, his assignments submitted on time, and his hair neatly styled. If there was an opposite to chaos, it was Taemin.

So naturally, the universe thought it would be hilarious to make them seatmates.

"Jihoon, what are you doing?" Taemin hissed, watching in horror as Jihoon casually stuck a piece of gum under the teacher’s desk.

"Enhancing the learning environment," Jihoon grinned.

Taemin smacked his forehead. "Do you have a death wish?"

Jihoon just winked at him. "Relax, angel, no one will know."

"Don't call me that!" Taemin snapped, his ears turning red.

Unfortunately, the nickname stuck.

And so did Jihoon.

It started with small things—Jihoon "borrowing" Taemin’s pens, passing him ridiculous notes in class (Would you rather fight 100 duck-sized horses or one horse-sized duck?), and appearing next to him out of nowhere between classes.

Taemin tried to ignore him, but it was hard when Jihoon insisted on putting his head on Taemin’s shoulder during history lectures.

"Your uniform smells nice," Jihoon murmured one day, eyes half-closed.

Taemin stiffened. "Get off me."

Jihoon grinned but didn’t move.

Taemin prided himself on being patient. He could handle anything.

But he snapped when Jihoon walked into school with his uniform completely ruined—shirt untucked, tie missing, blazer covered in what looked like… ketchup?

"What happened to you?" Taemin demanded.

Jihoon scratched the back of his head. "Oh, you know… science experiment gone wrong."

Taemin groaned. "You are an embarrassment to this school."

"You love it," Jihoon smirked.

"I do not!"

Jihoon leaned closer, his smirk widening. "You do. Why else would you keep fixing my tie every morning?"

Taemin gaped. "I— I— That’s because you look like a disaster!"

Jihoon only laughed, letting Taemin fix his collar.

One afternoon, Jihoon didn’t show up to class.

Taemin told himself he didn’t care, but his foot tapped anxiously under his desk. When lunch came, he finally gave in and went looking for him.

He found Jihoon sitting on the rooftop, staring at the sky.

"Hey," Taemin said, sitting beside him. "You okay?"

Jihoon hummed. "Got in trouble. Again."

Taemin sighed. "Of course you did."

Jihoon turned to him, grinning. "You worried about me, angel?"

Taemin turned red. "I’m leaving."

Jihoon grabbed his wrist. "Wait. Let me ask you something first."

Taemin frowned. "What?"

Jihoon smirked. "Would you rather go on a date with me or have me cause absolute mayhem at prom?"

Taemin groaned. "You’re impossible."

"And yet, you haven’t run away," Jihoon teased.

Taemin hesitated. Then, rolling his eyes, he mumbled, "Fine. One date. But if you ruin prom, I’ll personally make sure you regret it."

Jihoon beamed. "Deal."

And that was how trouble met perfection—and fell completely, ridiculously in love.