Here's Chapter Three with the apartment scene reworked so it's her first time. I kept the love scene tasteful and closed the door on it, as before.
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The taxi ride was quiet.
Yoongi sat on the far side of the back seat with his hood up and his eyes on the window. Seo watched the streetlights slide past and tried to think of something normal to say. Nothing came.
"You can still change your mind," he said, low enough that the driver couldn't hear.
"I know."
"I mean it."
"I know you do." She looked at him. "I haven't changed it."
He nodded once and turned back to the window, but his knee started bouncing. It took her a moment to realize he was nervous too. That made her feel steadier.
Her apartment was on the fourth floor of an old building with no elevator. They climbed the stairs one behind the other, and she was very aware of him behind her. At her door she dropped her keys twice.
"Sorry," she muttered. "I'm not usually like this."
"Like what?"
"Anything. I don't bring people home." She hesitated. "I don't bring anyone home."
He picked up the keys and held them out. "You've watched every interview, remember? You already know me."
She laughed, took the keys, and got the door open on the first try.
Inside, she turned on the small lamp by the couch and immediately regretted it. The apartment looked exactly like what it was: a tired person's home. A laundry rack by the window. Dishes in the sink. A poster of his group half hidden behind the bookshelf.
Yoongi saw it right away.
"You have a poster."
"Don't."
"That's the tour poster. Second year." He was grinning. "You kept it."
"I said don't." She dropped her bag on a chair. "Water?"
"Sure."
She poured two glasses and handed him one. Their fingers touched. Neither of them pulled away.
The room went quiet. She could hear the refrigerator humming and the clock above the stove.
"Seo." He set his glass down. "You've gone quiet on me."
"I'm thinking."
"About what?"
She stared at the floor. It was easier than looking at him. "There's something I should tell you, and it's embarrassing."
"Okay."
"I've never done this before." The words came out in a rush. "Any of it. Daehyun and I were together two years and we never did. He said he understood, that he'd wait. I thought that meant something." She let out a short, bitter laugh. "Now I know what it meant."
Yoongi didn't say anything for a moment. When she finally looked up, his face was serious, without a trace of teasing.
"Why didn't you tell me at the bar?"
"Because you might have said no."
"I might have," he admitted. "And that would have been the right answer."
"Then I'm glad I didn't tell you."
"Seo." He stepped closer, but not too close. "If you're doing this because of what he did, because you feel like you owe yourself something..."
"I'm not." She shook her head. "I thought about it the whole ride here. I'm not doing this to punish anyone. I'm doing it because I want to, and because I'd rather it be with someone who's been kind to me."
He looked at her for a long time.
"Then we go slowly," he said. "As slowly as you want. We stop whenever you say. Understood?"
"Understood."
"Say it back to me. Whenever you want to stop."
"I say so, and we stop." Her mouth curved a little. "You're very serious about this."
"I'm very serious about this."
She reached up and touched the edge of his mask, still hanging under his chin. He held perfectly still, letting her. She unhooked it and set it on the counter.
He kissed her gently, so gently she barely felt it. It felt like a question. She answered by holding on to the front of his hoodie, and the kiss deepened, unhurried, until her nervousness settled into something warmer.
"Still okay?" he murmured.
"Still okay."
"Bedroom?"
"Left."
They didn't get there gracefully. He bumped the doorframe and laughed, and she laughed too, and for a moment it felt easy and ordinary. In the dim room, her hands trembled as she unbuttoned her cardigan, and he covered them with his own.
"Let me," he said quietly. "If you want."
"Okay."
He was careful with her, patient, checking her face at every step and slowing whenever she tensed. Once she whispered that she was nervous, and he only said, "Me too," and she believed him. Somewhere along the way, the fear stopped mattering. There was his voice close to her ear, her name spoken softly, and the strange, wonderful feeling of being wanted and treated gently in the same breath.
The lamp in the other room stayed on for the rest of the night.
---
Seo woke with sunlight across her face and a dull ache behind her eyes.
The other side of the bed was empty.
She lay still and listened. No footsteps. No water running. The apartment was silent.
There was a folded piece of paper on the pillow. She sat up, holding the sheet against her chest, and opened it.
*I had to go before the staff noticed I was missing. I'm sorry I didn't wake you. Thank you for trusting me last night. I hope it was what you wanted.*
*Take care of yourself, Seo.*
No number. No email. Just neat, slanted handwriting.
She read it three times. Then she folded it, put it in the nightstand drawer, and told herself that was the end of it. One night. He had said so himself: nobody could know.
She got up, showered, and went to work. She deleted Daehyun's voicemails without listening to a single one. She blocked Yerin's number. The following weekend she changed the lock on her door and told herself she was fine.
For about six weeks, she was.
---
Now, on the edge of the bathtub, Seo stared at the pregnancy test in her hand.
Two lines. Still two lines.
She had read the box four times. She had taken a second test twenty minutes earlier, and it said the same thing. Both sat on the sink like evidence.
"Okay," she said out loud. "Okay. Think."
She was twenty-six. She had a job, a small savings account, and a landlord who was already unhappy with her. Her mother lived three hours away and would ask questions she couldn't answer. And the father was a man she had no way of reaching, someone who had spent the last two months on stages in front of thousands of people.
Her first time, and this was what came of it.
She almost laughed. Then she pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes.
"You can't just call his company," she muttered. "'Hello, I'd like to tell your idol he's going to be a father.' They'd hang up on you."
When she lowered her hands, something in her chest had gone still.
She wasn't panicking anymore. She was thinking about a small person with her stubborn chin and his crooked smile. About a name. About the fact that out of the worst night of her life, something had stayed.
Her hand moved to her stomach.
"I'm not going to figure it all out today," she said quietly.
She wrapped both tests in a tissue and dropped them in the trash. Then she washed her face and looked at herself in the mirror.
"First," she told her reflection, "a doctor."
The phone on the edge of the sink lit up.
A news alert. She almost swiped it away, but the headline caught her eye.
*Min Yoongi confirmed to attend fan signing in Seoul this Saturday.*
Seo stared at the screen. Her heart began to pound.
Saturday was three days away.